#like the first person who knows exactly what is wrong with you and isn’t offering you a death sentence

[moghedien]

Jaheira offering to watch Durge while they sleep legit caught me so off guard the first time I got there and made me so emotional that it completely changed the way I was playing my Durge for the rest of the game and I’m still emotional about it

[starmapz]

hiromi higuruma is your divorce lawyer, and he thinks you might be the most beautiful person he's ever laid eyes on. ❦ cw ; mdni. 18+ only. f!reader. divorce themes. fluff. p in v. fingering. oral (f!receiving). slight body worship. unprotected. creampie. kinda hurt/comfort if you squint?

masterlist

divorce lawyer!higuruma who makes a point of not dating clients, but he can’t help but think that you’re gorgeous.

divorce lawyer!higuruma who feels his blood boil during the first meeting with your husband- ex-husband- and his lawyer as the asshole tries to defend himself for cheating. he can hardly bear to see the way you cover the fact that you’re holding back tears with nothing more than a glance at the table and a dejected smile.

divorce lawyer!higuruma surprises you when he suggests a more aggressive split of your belongings, favoring you of course. it wasn’t previously discussed but you don’t argue and when the opposing side agrees, you feel a weight lifted off your shoulders knowing you can support yourself.

divorce lawyer!higuruma doesn’t say a word when you return to his office and cry. he’s no stranger to having those recently divorced cry in front of him, but this time there’s a very real and raw pang in his chest.

divorce lawyer!higuruma offers to take you for drinks. it’s not a date, no formalities, just his way of offering you some comfort. you tilt your head so cutely as you contemplate his question, wiping your tears with the back of hand as you decidedly nod.

divorce lawyer!higuruma feels his grasp slipping on his self-imposed rule to not date clients. you’re so kind, so caring, so beautiful, that he wonders how your sleazy ex-husband ever let you go.

divorce lawyer!higuruma pays for all of your drinks and your uber, much to your dismay, insisting it’s the right thing to do.

divorce lawyer!higuruma looks forward to your next meeting, in spite of the fact that he’ll need to see your ex-husband. there’s a sort of pride blooming deep within his chest when you speak of the divorce to your ex, but look to hiromi for encouragement. he offers you nods and smiles and you relax somewhat, seeming much more at ease and confident.

divorce lawyer!higuruma who has a smile on his face walking out of the meeting with you as your ex-husband seethes over the fact that you’re squeezing more money out of him, and doing it with a smile.

divorce lawyer!higuruma doesn’t even think twice about accepting when you insist on taking him for dinner as a thank you once the proceedings are finished. he intends nothing more than to have a friendly dinner with you, but after several hours and his insistence to make sure you get home safe, you find yourself sharing a kiss.

divorce lawyer!higuruma hasn’t even had a drink, but he thinks he’s drunk on you. you’re so saccharine sweet and the way you sweetly invite him in with bright eyes is irresistible. he doesn’t even mind potentially being a rebound if it means getting the chance to show you what it means to be taken care of by a real man.

divorce lawyer!higuruma carries you so confidently to your guest room that you just giggle when you tell him it’s the wrong room, directing him to your bedroom. there’s something so sweet and charming about the whole situation, the way you’re able to laugh together, that he hopes he isn’t just a rebound. but for you? he will be, if that’s what you want.

divorce lawyer!higuruma spends the night practically worshiping your body. he takes his time kissing each and every inch of your skin, so gentle and caring even as his cock absolutely throbs in the confines of his slacks, because he wants to show you exactly what you’ve missed out on.

divorce lawyer!higuruma absolutely snaps when his tongue is buried in your pussy and you begin to beg him to cum as his ministrations are so slow, drawing your pleasure out. it’s like he’s a different man when he meanly strokes long fingers against your g spot while he sucks your clit until your body is trembling with pleasure.

divorce lawyer!higuruma’s words when he talks dirty send you into a spiral as he asks if your ex-husband could get you off like he is, if he knew how to make you beg and scream and shake while he pounds your poor cunt in a mean mating press. what sends him into a frenzy is the way you tell him he’s the best you’ve ever had.

divorce lawyer!higuruma doesn’t relent as your moans turn to babbles and your nails rake his back. he relishes in the sting, knowing he’s hitting your sweet spot with each stroke as white hot pleasure courses through your body and with a cry you hit your climax. You cling to him as your arousal coats his cock, your walls tightening around his length and with only a few more thrusts, he fills you with his seed when you beg him to cum inside.

divorce lawyer!higuruma still fears being a rebound, but there’s something satisfying in seeing him seeping from your folds and soaking the sheets beneath you.

divorce lawyer!higuruma takes his time caring for you, cleaning you gently with a towel as he asks if you enjoyed yourself before he lifts the sheets and blankets over you, comfortably holding you against his broad chest as though you belong there, and he wonders if you feel that sensation too.

divorce lawyer!higuruma who tries to leave early in the morning, as a courtesy to you, under the assumption that he’s a rebound. a delicate hand around his wrist has his eyes widening as he tries to step out of the bed, but you don’t let him, a hurt expression on your face as you ask if he’s leaving.

divorce lawyer!higuruma who realizes he’s underestimated you in every way as he comfortably holds you against his bare chest again in the early hours of the morning, basking in the feeling of being wanted. the feeling of being wanted by you, nonetheless. he wonders how your ex-husband ever let you go, how any man could possibly bear to not see the entire sun, you, each and every morning upon waking up.

divorce lawyer!higuruma relaxes into you, forgetting about your ex as he falls into a deep slumber, silent plans to take you on countless dates and spoil you rotten floating in his mind if you’ll allow him to. little does he know, you’re as smitten with him as he is with you.

masterlist

❦ a/n ; just a lil something for hiromi while i work on my last kinktober piece and my sukuna college au ♡ as always, likes, reblogs, and comments super appreciated!

[suguann]

an. another ex-husband gojo fic because i'll die with this trope. this ends exactly how you'd expect (if you know me)

Satoru doesn’t take it well when you tell him you have a boyfriend after bumping into him in the grocery store parking lot. At least, you don’t think he does. It’s hard to tell, his expression inscrutable as ever behind his dark sunglasses—the sharp arch of his brow the only indication he’s heard you at all.

“Is that so?” he finally says, and for some reason, it makes you nervous. Has you grasping at straws to make something right that isn’t even wrong yet. Has any thought of this being an easy conversation shattered at your feet.

You clear your throat. “Yeah…he’s nice. You might even like him.” 

No, he wouldn’t—a little voice in the back of your head tells you. Knowing it's because all of the unreadable parts of you are no longer connected to him, but instead to a man you've barely spent two months dating, and that must infuriate him.

He doesn’t ask (not that you expect him to) when you find yourself prattling on about how you met Rin through a friend, how he’s an investment banker and takes you out to his cabin on the weekends, that he’s predictable—stable is what you really mean, but don't say—with an ordinary life who wants kids—

Satoru seems to chew on that last bit of information like he’s suddenly tasted something unpleasant, the line of his brow flat and unimpressed, the slant in his mouth mutinous. He’s uttered all but three words, and so far, this entire conversation leaves you with nothing short of a stomach ache.

“He really is a good person,” you add, just because you have nothing else to say and your penchant for filling awkward, empty spaces.

Then he smiles, and you relax a little. “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

You smile, too, a soft, sure thing this time that makes his widen.

But if you'd been more level-headed and less flustered about bumping into your ex-husband after several months of silence—since he signed his name beside yours in front of your lawyer—you’d realize how dangerous that smile is.

You’re unsure if it’s too contingent to be considered a coincidence, but he starts showing up in odd places after that all-too-uncomfortable one-sided conversation in the parking lot.

First, it’s at your favorite coffee shop you usually stop at on your way to work. It’s strange because you remember him hating coffee, how he'd always preferred to load it with creamer and sweetener just to get rid of the bitter taste. But you don’t mention it when he offers—no, insists on paying for your coffee and blueberry streusel muffin.

When the total pops up on the register, he doesn’t even blink when he opens his wallet.

Of course, you can't let him pay. There must be something in writing somewhere that says ex-husbands shouldn't pay for their recently divorced ex-wife's coffee.

He shrugs, smiling, after you tell him it’s expensive—has that ever bothered me?—and slides a shiny black card across the counter to the barista.

“You can't show up out of nowhere and start buying me things,” you hiss afterward, slightly flustered by the whole ordeal. The city’s big, but you still worry about one of your friends or colleagues seeing you with Satoru—they may get the wrong idea. “We’re not together anymore.”

"Do I have to message you the next time I want to get you coffee?" he tucks his hands into his coat.

"No, we shouldn't even be getting coffee together."

“Am I not allowed to be nice now that you have a boyfriend?”

“That’s not what I said,” you huff. “And you didn’t even buy yourself anything. How am I supposed to look at it?”

He shrugs, “I decided I didn’t want anything,” and you don't even think he notices that he holds your hand when you go to cross the street.

Habit. You'll write that one off as a habit, but he doesn't let go until you're in front of the tall, shiny doors of your office building.

The second time he shows up unannounced is while you're walking through the quaint park near your apartment, which you know is far from his sleek penthouse on 5th Avenue, the one with a perfect view of the city and the bay—a thirty-minute drive, at least.

“I bought a house out here,” he tells you when you ask. “It’s up on the hill.”

You know which one he’s talking about. You’ve driven past it a few times. It's a cozy brick stone with lots of windows, a white picket fence, and a large backyard, something you’ve always wanted since before you were married. According to a real estate website, his house is a little over a million. 

Interest must be written all over your face because he asks: “You want to see it?”

There are a number of reasons why you shouldn’t say yes, why you should politely decline and finish your last lap along the trail and run to the grocery store afterward to pick up something for dinner and call Rin to let him hear about your day—

“Okay,” you say, hands on your hips. “But make it quick.”

He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling at the corners with something akin to affection. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You open your mouth to remind him, again, that you’re not together, so he’s not allowed to use pet names, but a large hand on the small of your back to usher you towards the shiny, sleek SUV across the street leaves you with a mouth full of cotton.

He watches you take in the hardwood floors and tall ceilings trimmed with crown molding. When you stop in the massive kitchen to run your fingers over the granite countertops, it almost feels bittersweet walking through the house of your dreams while your ex-husband eyes you questioningly as if he's looking for your approval.

“So? What do you think?”

The smile you give him is genuine. “It’s beautiful.”

Satoru matches your smile with a bigger one, almost blinding. “That’s good, that’s really good.”

You feel like you should ask why he bought a house this big in the first place, but there’s a pebble in your stomach if you think about family photos on the walls with him happy and smiling, his arm around a pretty wife who wears frilly aprons and kisses him on the cheek when he comes home. A future where you don’t exist, yet he’s letting you take a peak into it, anyway.

So you don’t say anything.

You meant to leave an hour ago, but he plied you with dinner— friends can have dinner together, can’t they? —which leads to two glasses of wine and then watching movies together on his very soft couch. If everything didn't feel so fuzzy around the edges, you probably would have noticed the signs sooner, that he’s trying to—

(He presses you into the couch cushions, biting marks into your neck and chest until your breaths come out fast and high-pitched.

“We shouldn’t,” you manage to say, still tipsy and tongue heavy in your mouth from the wine you had. "Toru, I should really go."

He huffs a laugh against your cheek—you note how he still wears the same cologne you bought him all those years ago when everything was so new, and there wasn't a ring on your finger yet—pressing a messy kiss there that makes you squirm. “Doesn’t this remind you of old times, though?”

“B-but I have a boyfriend.”

In retaliation, he sinks his teeth into the tender flesh around the fluttering pulse in your neck, just shy of too rough, though your fingers in his hair pull him into you like you can’t get enough.)

That maybe this means he—

(Satoru bunches the lace of your panties in his fist, shoving them up around your knees, trapping your legs together against your chest. A long, drawn-out groan rumbles in his chest at discovering the creamy mess between your thighs. “Always had such a pretty wet pussy, fuck. Do you get this wet for him, too?”

“Shut up.”

He laughs because he hears what you don’t say: No, you’ve never been this turned on when it’s with Rin. Satoru’s the only one to ever leave you wet and shaky just from a few words.)

It’s an insane thought, but it’s almost like Satoru—

(He holds his hand up to your mouth, telling you to lick before he wraps it around his cock, pressing the tip into the slick seam of your cunt. And you forgot how big he is, just on the side of too much, the bit of effort it takes for him to sink in a little, and then all at once, rending you right down the middle.

You whimper, fingers scrabbling clumsily for one of the throw pillows near your head, needing something to hold on to.

“There you go, pretty girl,” Gojo breathes, hips tight and close, grinding into you so that you can feel how deep he is. “I see she can still take it.”)

No, he wouldn’t—

(He fucks you hard enough to send you skittering up the couch, only to pull you back down again, grinding you on his cock to touch places inside you that he’s only ever managed to reach. You whine into where your face is pressed against the back cushions, biting down to muffle how loud you’re being.

He makes a displeased sound and forces you to look at him again with his fingers digging into your cheeks.

"What if I give you a little baby, huh? We'll be a family together. You, me, and our baby in this big house. Doesn't that sound nice? We'll fill the house with babies," he mutters, bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth, forcing your legs further against your chest.

The angle rubs just right inside you. You make an unintelligible noise at the back of your throat, unable to move or get better friction in this position.

“We did it your way last time, didn’t we, baby?” his little laugh is breathless, kind of mean. “I let you leave with all those silly thoughts in your head; thought you knew what you wanted, but now we’re going to do it my way from now on.”

His words should strike alarm bells, but when he fits his hand between your bodies to strum his thumb against your clit, your mind empties.

"You've always been mine." Words barely audible, he still sounds breathless; wrecked. "It's about time you get that through your head.")

Except you know he would. 

A month later, you’re packing away the fine china in your apartment, wondering how the few things you own will fill a house so large.

[seeker-ophelia]

Mythal, Solas, and Lavellan

So there’s lots of discussion about Mythal and Solas, and we need to talk about it.

I too, at first, was mad that Lavellan wasn’t enough for Solas.

And then I started thinking about it.

Not only was Mythal his mother, his creator, she coaxed him into being. Into changing his spirit and his purpose.

Regret Number 1.

He let her use his knowledge and wisdom to do a terrible thing, to kill (tranquil) the titans, changing a whole race of people at a molecular magical level.

Regret Number 2.

When that choice created the worst power known to Thedas (the blight) he was responsible again. And Mythal asked him to step up and fight against it, and he did. And a lot of people died.

Regret 3.

Mythal DIED. (IMO The gods blighted her because she stood against them for wanting to use the blight but that’s not important here). And Solas blames himself.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her puppy. Her Emerald Knight. Her General. Her Protector. Her Wisdom. Her servant, her SLAVE. He is BOUND TO HER. And he caused her downfall.

And you’re all like, GEAS! GEAS!

But wait.

From HIS perspective.

Rook says something somewhere along the lines of like, by abstainsing from being the good guy (oh wait maybe it was Varric in the fade…)

By choosing to be the villain instead of the hero is he absolving himself of the guilt (regret) that comes from having to have made those choices.

From Solas’ perspective, he is her slave.

LOOK AT HIS BODY LANGUAGE.

He is a worm in the dirt in front of her. He is a scolded child, a puppy with his tail between his legs.

But in the eyes of Mythal, he was always her friend. The one person who had always stood by her. She did not literally entrap him, or bind him. It was all in Solas’ own head.

He refused to take accountability for his actions, only able to survive through the crushing weight of his own guilt by blaming it on servitude to Mythal.

That’s why Rook escaped the prison. Because she faced her own choices, choices with terrible consequences, and accepted them. Took responsibility for them, and promised to do better.

Remember, after the Temple of Mythal…

Solas…

You gave yourself into the service of an ancient elvhen god!

What does that mean exactly?

You are Mythal’s creature now, everything you do whether you know it or not will be for her. *** You have given up a part of yourself.

***THIS WAS NEVER TRUE. IT WAS NOT TRUE FOR FLEMYTHAL & MORRIGAN, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR ABELAS, NOR WAS IT TRUE FOR SOLAS. HE JUST WANTED TO BELIVE THAT IT WAS.

…I suppose it is better you have the power than Corypheus. Which leads to the next logical question… What will you do with the power of the Well once Corypheus is dead?

The war proved that we can’t go back to the way things were. I’ll try to help this world move forward. **Lavellan is talking about the mage/templar conflict, but Solas is putting her in his own shoes. Solas reached for power he could not control and fucked the whole world up.

You would risk everything you have with the hope that the future is better? What if it isn’t? What if you wake up to find that the future you shaped is worse than what was? **

**This is literally him asking her what she would do in his shoes. He woke up and the world was in chaos OF HIS MAKING. To prevent an evil HE CAUSED from spreading, he orchestrated the downfall of the people he loved and swore to protect.

I’ll take a breath, see where things went wrong, and then try again.

Just like that?

*He is in shock that she can be so cavalier about the guilt that has rocked him for (4?) millennia.

If we don’t keep trying, we’ll never get it right.

*And this is the only thing that calms him down.

You’re right. Thank You.

For what?

You have not been what I expected, Inquisitor, you have… impressed me.

You have offered hope that is one keeps trying, even if the consequences are grave… that someday, things will be better.

Then, of course, he takes this to mean that he needs to try to put The Evanuris in a different prison and take down the veil which isn’t at all what we meant sweetie but that’s okay get up and try again.

This is a classic case of a person in power not understanding the terrible, horrible consequences of unfettered power imbalances. Because Solas was always Friend to Mythal (Im not going into Freudian sex shit with you weirdos right now).

Solas was Mythals FRIEND.

Mythal was Solas’ EVERYTHING.

co·de·pend·en·cy

/ˌkōdəˈpend(ə)nsē/

noun

excessive emotional or psychological reliance on a partner,

His Mother, General, Creator, Protector, Queen, Goddess.

And he loved her so fiercely with every fiber of his new, physical being.

And he hated it.

And when Lavellan fell for him, and he for her, he was afraid.

Because he would never force a spirit against her purpose, and in his eyes the only way to love is the sick and twisted way he loved Mythal.

But again, from Mythal’s perspective, it wasn’t twisted. Solas was just Solas. And once again the powerful care not for the thoughts and opinions of those beneath them.

And that sin is on Mythal.

And that’s why she comes out and talks to Solas. Both aspects of her. To release him from the bonds that never existed. Be free, friend. You always were, but if you need me to say it I will because I love you.

“I pulled you from the fade and sent you into war. I used your wisdom as a weapon… and it broke you.”

Cole: Is there a way to save more spirits, Solas?

Solas: Not until the Veil is healed. The rifts draw spirits through, and the shock makes demons of them.

Cole: Pushing through makes you be yourself. You can hold onto the you. Being pulled through means you don't have enough you. You become what batters you, bruises your being.

Be free.

“The things that I have done…”

“Are not for you to bear alone, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.”

And he COWERS before her. Shaking and shuddering. FNALLY being absolved of the guilt he’s carried since his inception.

“I release you from my service.”

And he SOBBS. At the RELIEF.

And Lavellan kneels before him (wrong, IMO because they should be equals but its fine)

And he can go back to his original purpose.

Not Pride.

Not Knowledge.

Not even Wisdom.

But Protection.   

“My life force now sustains the veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.”

The Shepherds Wolf. Protecting his flock from those who would do them harm.

And Lavellan promises it won’t be terrible, as long as they’re together.

And maybe Solas can try this different kind of love. A love built on respect, and trust, instead of fear, and obedience.

And he can be his purpose, Protection, and also be a man. And love his vhenan.

Because he is free.

[ironunderstands]

Sunday’s worldview sucks, his outlook and perception of himself and others sucks… and that’s why he’s so interesting

In honor of his drip marketing releasing tonight (or maybe yesterday for you depending on when I get this out), I’d like to talk about why I think Sunday’s beliefs and perspective is very, very flawed and how his own biases rather than the actions of those who oppose him are what led to his downfall.

Sunday is entirely responsible for his own failure, and that’s exactly why he’s incredible.

This contains mentions of leaks and spoilers for the Penacony quest line… you have been warned

To start with, oh my lord do Sunday’s preconceived notions kick him in the ass. 

I think the best example of this is his conversation with Dr. Ratio in which Ratio pretends to betray Aventurine, selling out his plan to Sunday. Now, what’s incredibly interesting about this exchange is that Ratio doesn’t fully lie to Sunday once in this exchange, rather he says half truths and makes vague statements which Sunday himself interprets as being in support of him. 

Take what Ratio said the whole, “A scholar knows their position and wouldn’t forsake it for the sake of petty pride.” In retrospect, we know this line is actually referring to Aventurine- aka Ratio is saying he’s not just going to sell him out to Sunday for the sake of information about the Stellaron (which he would get anyways if the IPC attained Penacony, plus Mr. Incredibly Dedicated Knowledge Spreader probably has other means of gaining it then through The Family). 

However, since Ratio answered the invitation Sunday gave him, Sunday assumes that Ratio is on his side, believes his cause is righteous, and that he won Ratio over with offering him information about the Stellaron, therefore making that previous statement of Ratio’s null, because Sunday interpreted it as, “convince me this is worth my time + prove to me you’re correct,” when it really meant, “there is no way in hell I’m about to sacrifice my friend to you, and there is nothing you could offer me to make me do so you crazed lunatic.”

But why did Sunday not weigh the options? Why did he unquestioningly believe his perception of the situation was the correct one?

Well- partly it’s because Ratio and Aventurine were doing their damndest to make it seem like they hate each other and that their plan was going off the rails.

But the more important part is that even without Ratio saying a word or even accepting the invitation, Sunday already believes he’d be on his side. 

Let me demonstrate this through Sunday's perspective:

I am a righteous person, I am doing the correct things, my worldview is the correct one. Dr. Ratio is also a righteous person who seems to be doing the correct things. Therefore, since we are both on the side of good, and Aventurine is clearly not on that side considering his status as Stoneheart and his negative relationship to Ratio, then Ratio will naturally want to be on my side. After all, the good guys work together, do they not?- and together will vanquish this evil villain.

This perspective is a simple one, but Sunday’s unshaking belief (up until the end of 2.2) that he is 100% in correct and in the right, that any and everyone who he also perceives to be in the right (like Ratio) would believe/side with him without truly needing to be convinced. Sunday doesn’t come out the gate offering the Stellaron information- he only keeps it as a backup just in case. 

However, this is complicated because Sunday is also not an idiot, and he’s extremely paranoid, so he’s going to make sure that the way he views the world is 100% correct on the off chance he’s wrong which could foil his plans- which is why he invited Ratio in the first place. Nevertheless, this isn’t him hunting for new perspectives, but rather him desiring to prove himself right again, which is a bad thing because Sunday is very much not right. 

A perfect world is a perfect pris- *gets shot*

Reference that approximately 2 ½ people will get beside, Sunday’s ideology that he is fully confident in.. sucks. It sucks ass, it’s terrible, and let me explain.

I’m not going to try going over all the little intricacies to how the dreamscape works because I a) don’t know and b) don’t particularly care because they aren’t relevant to the argument I will be making- which is that Sunday’s ideology is inherently flawed and immediately falls apart under scrutiny.

Essentially, he desires to create the perfect fake reality, enveloping the whole galaxy in Ena’s dream and fulfilling their every desire and whim within it, with himself as the sacrifice to allow it to exist. The seven rest days, no illness, no pain, no challenge, you get the idea. 

And, this perfect world paradoxically sucks ass because of its perfectness.

Improving society is great, eliminating hardship is great, increasing quality of life is great.

But declawing reality itself- absolutely not.

I’m going to try to explain this through my favorite strangely specific anecdote- the process of obtaining diamonds in Minecraft.

Stay with me now.

You essentially have two options- go out and mine them yourselves the hard way, which takes hours, gives you less diamonds per the amount of time spent on it, and likely with you exhausting some of your resources like food, torches, and tools which you will need to replenish.

Or.

You can just.. get them from creative mode or commands, and you can get as many as your heart desires.

However, despite the fact that option one is harder, gives you less diamonds and takes significantly more time, I, as well as hopefully you, would pick it every time (at least in a survival world, although honestly idk why you would even need pure diamonds in creative).

And that’s because the first option is rewarding. 

You did not earn the diamonds you easily and magically summoned into your inventory, there is no struggle, no journey, no challenge to it, therefore it feels entirely unremarkable, as compared to the feeling you (hopefully) get from mining diamonds, which makes you happy because you earned it. Yeah, it was harder, but the process itself is fun- the anticipation of not knowing when you’re going to find them, if at all, the danger, the fighting and digging and mauvering you will have to do in the process.

And with this unconventional example, the fatal flaw with Sunday’s ideology is revealed- it’s boring. 

It’s boring as shit.

Yeah, for the first few months or even years it might be enjoyable- having everything you could ever want served on a silver platter. However, humans are a) inherently a bit greedy and b) desire challenge, and this scenario fulfilles neither of those things. Naturally having everything means your desire for more can never be fulfilled, leaving the wanter forever unsatisfied, whereas in the real world, things are truly out of your reach, meaning that even if you never end up getting them, they are still a tangible thing just out of reach… as strange at it sounds, we like being tantalilus-ed more than you think. After all, if what you want is so easy to get, you will never run out of things to want, and eventually that gets draining. 

Continually, if everything is easy, if everything is just right there whenever you want it- existence itself no longer has stakes. 

And that’s the problem, because much like how a story with no stakes is extremely hard to find compelling, a life with no stakes feels boring at best and downright pointless and meaningless at worst.

I’m just saying, there is a reason why the Nihility was such a strong presence and problem in Penacony.

Anyways, like with the diamond problem, a lack of stakes means that nothing you do feels rewarding, because you didn’t truly earn it. 

Which is where the Sunday’s idea of a “perfect” reality falls apart, because the most enjoyable reality for humans to live in is not one literally devoid of any possible flaw.

So why does he believe in it? When it’s so clearly flawed?

Well, it’s because Sunday doesn’t think a better alternative exists.

The world made you this way.. and you chose to continue what it started.

I’m sure I don’t need to repeat the story of the Charmony Dove all over again because trust me, we’ve all heard it before. Nonetheless, it reveals something important both about Sunday’s personality and his ideology- he’s fundamentally a defeatist.

He doesn’t believe that there is any alternative for the dove, that it could ever be able to fly again with its deformed nature, so instead of being “cruel” and letting it “inevitably fall to its death,” he’d rather keep it in a cage all its life where it has no freedom, but at least it would he alive and “happy”.

And this is where his defeatism reveals itself- Sunday doesn’t believe reality itself can get better because improving it when there are so many factors and things out of your control is hard at best and impossible at worst. Therefore, he resorts to creating an escapist, false version of it- a perfect golden cage, because constructing that is far, far easier than trying to help the dove fly again. 

The universe has endless possibilities, if Robin and Sunday had tried hard enough, they probably could have found a solution. Sure, they were both children, so the capabilities necessary to even attempt that were likely far out of their reach. However, it was still possible, but Sunday doesn’t believe in possibilities- he believes he’s right above all else, which is where that stubbornness and arrogance comes into play again.

Sunday doesn’t think better solutions than his exists, and he believes everyone would could possibly stand in his noble way are either villains, or horribly misguided; so it’s his job to show them the light.

This is why he lets the Express Crew + Firefly try to change his mind- Sunday wasn’t actually interesting in shifting his perspective, or really what they wanted to say. Rather, he just wanted to let them say there peace, because well, Sunday’s a good, righteous person (at least from his perspective), and good, righteous people listen to others. Good, righteous people will let these poor, ignorant souls offer their foolish words before exposing them to the harsh truth- or at least that’s how Sunday sees it. 

Moreover, this also explains his arrogance. If he believes his worldview is the sole correct one, then why listen to anyone else? He’s this world's savior, or at least he’s been raised to believe that- so why not relish in it? He enjoys punishing Aventurine, enjoys the bastard who stood in the way of Sunday’s plans, shrinks away in “defeat” and get what he “deserves.” Despite how miserable it sounds, Sunday also takes pride in having to be a martyr to bring about his beautiful dream. The belief that he is a selfless, good person is a selfish desire of his, even if a genuine one, and it’s what leads to his downfall.

Sunday could have actually listened. He could have reevaluated his loss to Aventurine and realized it was not through the others clever deception, but through his own biases. He could have actually taken the Express’s and Firefly’s advice. He could have looked for other avenues to help the people he truly does care about. 

Despite Gopher Wood’s manipulation- Sunday’s decision to go forward with the pain is entirely his own, because he truly believes- even with all the evidence for the contrary- that he is correct.

And that’s why he fails. Not because of the Express. Not because of Ratio. Not because of Aventurine. Not because of Gopher, or even the rest of The Family.

No, Sunday fails because he is flawed, and he is wrong, and he is the arrogant, selfish and biased one, and his worldview is wrong.

So what now?

This might have seemed like I think Sunday is pure evil and irredeemable, but I think it’s quite the opposite.

He has very good intentions, and he does genuinely care about it the well being of other people around him. He gives Aventurine a chance to prove his innocence, even if he never intended on changing, he does listen to what the Express + Firefly have to say. He pauses when Robin shows up, as she’s the one person (until the very end) he’s actually willing to accept the perspective of. The whole reason he ended up here in the first place is because Gopher Wood twisted Sunday’s good intentions into a fatal arrogance and utmost belief in a flawed worldview. 

However, what really sells me on Sunday’s goodness is when eyes widen at that final moment, the light draining from him as he realizes he is wrong. 

And once Sunday realizes he is wrong, those flaws that bind him can finally be examined and improved upon, as they all stem from that worldview he no longer believes in. 

His whole life, Sunday has been enacting out someone else’s plan for him, even if he’s come to internalize it over time, at the end of the day- it was never his, and without it, he’s empty.

Which is exactly why the only place he can go now is the Express, and the only thing left for him is redemption and growth.

Dan Heng is right- Sunday has a noble soul, and now that he has stopped believing in himself, he’s no longer shackled by the past either. Improvement or utter demise (in a likely nihility-flavored manner) are his only options remaining.

I understand a lot of people want to see him become a Stellaron Hunter, but imo, that just does nothing for him. He’d still be following someone else’s path/script, and Mr. I Will Sacrifice My Whole Existence To Become The Sun To Illuminate These Wandering Souls probably wouldn’t be so on board with the whole.. terrorism part of being a SH. Like yeah, they are our friends (kinda), but they absolutely kill innocent people and cause millions of dollars in property damage to people who don’t deserve it. 

Also, being on the Express Just Makes Sense. This is a game about choices, a game about accepting the mistakes of your past, but not letting them define you in order to move on and forge a better future for yourself and others- with the Astral Express + Trailblaze as a concept being the literal embodiment of it. There’s a reason when you switch to the Trailblazer’s POV in stories, it includes Kafka’s most important words to us- “When you have the chance to make a choice, make one you won’t regret.”

Therefore, I hope the choices Sunday will make in 2.7 are ones he’s proud of, and I can’t wait to see how exactly they get him on board with the crew, because there still is a LOT of development he needs to do before then. 

Anyways, thank you so much for reading, and if you have any thoughts I’d love to hear them. This was a stream of consciousness mess, but I hope it was still valuable nonetheless! Also if you are reading this on the day it was written, I hope we don’t get disappointed by his drip marketing!

[harrywavycurly]

Ohhh sarahhh I’ve been thinking about this all week and it’s just what if Harry was our sugar daddy and we needed something in a time crunch and didn’t tell him?? So we bought it ourselves and he finds out?? But like make it fluffy??🫠🫠🩷

Hiii babes!!! Sugar daddy Harry? I’m listening 👀🤤 also I’ve never written him as a sugar daddy so I went with him just being his regular famous self so hope that’s okay with you? Also the thing you end up buying is the first idea that came to my mind for needing to buy it in a time crunch, hope you enjoy!💖

CW: Mentions of a slight panic attack, talks about money

A/N: You and Harry have a very special relationship and you did something he might not be too happy about, not gonna lie this is a tiny bit dramatic but also fluffy so hope you enjoy✨

You’re anxious, you keep looking at the clock on the stove in your kitchen knowing that any minute now your boyfriend will be walking through your door because it’s Sunday and you and Harry have been spending every Sunday afternoon together since you started dating almost a year ago. It’s the one day a week the two of you don’t make plans and just see where the day takes you, sometimes the two of you end up at the beach soaking up some sun while reading or sometimes you don’t even leave your apartment and just enjoy each others company. But today you’re on edge because you did something the day before that might have the man that’s usually all dimpled grins and soft loving gazes when it comes to you to be a little mad or upset with you when he finds out. Because that’s the thing, you know he’s going to find out because you’re going to tell him but you just don’t know when because Harry looks forward to his Sunday afternoons with you and you just don’t want to ruin the day for him.

It’s not as if you did something so wrong that he’ll be angry, Harry very rarely gets angry especially with you. The issue is that your relationship with Harry isn’t like any other relationship you’ve been in before and it oddly enough has nothing to do with the fact he’s Harry Styles, a world famous musician, it has to do with the fact Harry enjoys paying for everything. When you met him almost a year ago you didn’t even expect him to even notice you in the crowded bar let alone find you interesting enough to want to ask for your phone number but he did. It was around your fourth date with him that he decided to let you know exactly what he was looking for because he could tell he was already starting to like you so it would be better to put everything out in the open so you could tell him if this was something you would even be interested in.

You knew Harry had money, even if you didn’t know who he was you would’ve been able to tell simply by the way he dressed and the cars he drove when he felt like driving himself and not calling for his personal driver or by the expensive dates he took you on. You just never thought he would be looking for someone to spend his money on because you were used to men wanting you to contribute to paying for things in someway such as covering the bill on some dates or paying for gas when you’d go on road trips so Harry telling you he was looking for someone to dote on and spoil in terms of money took you by surprise. He made it a point to explain that aside from the money aspect of things, everything else he wanted in a relationship was pretty normal or as normal as he could offer due to his sometimes hectic lifestyle. But it was an easy decision to make because you liked Harry and wanted to see where this could go so you told him you were happy to give it a go and the smile he gave you was all the reassurance you needed that you made the right choice.

Harry told you he’d be patient with you as this type of relationship can take time to get used to and patient he was, he would just give you a playful glare and softly pinch your elbow when you’d reach for your wallet at the checkout of a store or sometimes he would simply distract you with a hand on the side of your neck pulling you in for a kiss that would leave you breathless and your mind a bit of a muddled mess letting him quickly place his card down without you noticing. You learned that Harry not only wanted to pay for things he knew you considered luxury items such as a new Gucci bag or some designer sunglasses but he got the most joy out of buying you things you actually needed such as your weekly groceries or your rent, that being the latest thing he was adamant on wanting to take over for you.

Harry’s whole thing with wanting to pay for everything is that it not only makes your life a little less stressful but it makes him feel needed. Harry has explained that at the end of the day that’s really what he craves the most, knowing that you actually need him and that’s just his personality, he has this desire to be wanted and needed by you so much that money is actually a small but still important part of it all. So when he finds out what you did while he won’t be angry, you can’t help but think he will be a little annoyed and upset with you.

“Hey baby.” Harry’s arms wrapping around your waist makes you jump the tinniest bit having not heard him even come in due to being lost in your thoughts. “You okay?” He asks as he places his lips to the side of your head while he pulls you closer so your back is flush with his chest.

“I’m good yeah I just didn’t hear you come in.” You explain as you bring your hands up and place them over his. He just hums in response as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck making you smile. “What did you want to do today?” You ask as he loosens his hold on your waist and gives your neck a soft kiss before lifting his head allowing you to turn around in his arms.

“There she is.” You smile as Harry looks down at you with a soft smile as his bright eyes slowly roam over your face before they land on yours and you don’t miss the way the corners of Harry’s mouth twitch as he fights back a smirk when you feel your cheeks get warm, because even after almost a year you still find yourself getting flustered when he stares at you. “How was your day with the girls? Didn’t get into too much trouble did you love?” You feel your anxiousness begin to resurface at the mention of yesterday causing you to look away from him and wiggle out of his hold so you can walk towards your fridge and pull out a bottle of water.

“Uhm it was-” You start to explain as you go to turn around so your back is facing the fridge but Harry is already standing in front of you making your words get lost in your throat, his facial expression is one of confusion but also worry as he takes the bottle from your hands so he can place it on the counter behind him before turning his attention back to you.

“What happened?” You want to melt at how concerned he sounds but all you do is feel a sense of guilt for causing him to worry, you look down at your feet but he only allows it for a moment before his index finger is under your chin gently tilting your head up so you’re looking at him. “What happened baby? Did someone do-”

“No no it’s nothing like that I just.” You mentally curse yourself when you feel a familiar stinging at the back of your eyes and a lump forming in your throat. “I don’t want to make you upset because you’re so good to me-I didn’t think I just did it and I know we have rules for this but I just forgot about it and then I was in a rush and and I panicked I’m sorry I’m so sor-” Harry’s hands cupping the sides of your face as he bends his knees a bit so he’s eye level with you brings your rambling to a stop as his thumbs ever so gently wipe away the few tears that escape when you blink at him a few times.

“Sweetheart I need you to take a few deep breaths for me okay?” Harry’s voice is soothing but with the smallest hint of sternness that he knows you need in moments like this so you’ll be more inclined to do what he asks. “Breathe in,” you mimic him as he takes a deep breath and holds it a few seconds. “Good girl now let it out but slowly.” He smiles when you slowly breathe out and repeat that process a few more times before you feel your heartbeat begin to go back to normal as he unbends his knees and stands up straighter and you just swallow the lump in your throat as your eyes look down at Harry’s forearms only to see your hands tightly wrapped around them in an attempt to feel grounded to something.

“Look at me please.” You instantly snap your eyes up to meet his stare, the soft smile he gives you makes your heart flutter in your chest. “What’s got you so worked up hmm?” He asks before he leans down and presses his lips against your forehead making you let out a sigh at his comforting gesture.

“I bought something last night that was expensive and I did it without even bringing it up to you.” You want to close your eyes so you don’t have to see his reaction to your confession but you don’t, you just watch him slowly nod his head but when you don’t elaborate further he quirks a brow at you.

“Is that it?” The way he calmly asks the question takes you by surprise, so you drop your hands from his forearms and Harry knows you’re going to try to get out of his grasp so he drops his hands from your face and quickly wraps them around your wrists. “What did you buy?” He asks as you stare at him with a look of almost disbelief on your face making Harry just tilt his head to the side a bit as he waits for you to answer.

“Concert tickets uh are you-you not mad at me?” Harry can’t help the chuckle that comes out of him as he shakes his head at you.

“Mad? No baby I’m not mad at you.” He can’t help but feel a little bad for somehow giving you the impression that you buying something without telling him would cause him to be mad at you resulting in you almost having a full on panic attack while trying to tell him about it.

“I used my own money and everything though and I know we have rules-”

“And what are those rules love?” You watch with slightly wide eyes as Harry brings your hands up to his lips as he asks you the question, you feel his lips on your knuckles as he patiently waits for you to recite the rules to him.

“I’m not supposed to spend my own money unless we talked about it before hand.” Your voice isn’t as shaky as you tell Harry the main rule the two of you have regarding money, he just smiles and nods as he lets go of your wrists so he can place his hands on your hips.

“And did we talk about these concert tickets?” You slowly shake your head as you place your palms flat against Harry’s chest feeling the soft material of his worn out t shirt. “Are you sure? You don’t normally break the rules love so just tell me what happened.” The deepness of his voice makes you relax as you feel his hands give your hips a little squeeze encouraging you to speak.

“I don’t think we did? I just forgot they were going on sale and then I got the email about it so without really thinking I got online and then I was in the ticket queue for like half an hour and then my card was the only one saved and I only had five minutes to complete the checkout so I just-”

“Panicked?”

“Yes.” You can’t really say much else because it’s the truth, you were in a rush and in the moment you didn’t think to even call Harry because what if by the time he gave you his card information the timer went out? Then you’d have to do the whole process all over again and it was already stressful.

“You have one of my cards in your wallet baby why didn’t you just use that to buy them?” He’s not asking in a mean way he’s just genuinely curious as to why you didn’t try to use the card you carry around with you.

“Well that’s the uh other thing.” Harry already knows what you’re going to say before you say it so he just lets out a sigh and shakes his head playfully at you.

“You left it at your friend’s house didn’t you?” When you just nod your head at him he lets out a breathy laugh as one of his hands comes up to the side of your neck. “What am I going to do with you?” You still find yourself in a bit of shock that he’s not mad or even a little annoyed with you so you just shrug and look at his chest where his cross pendant lays against his shirt.

“If it uhm makes you feel better I got really crappy seats.” Harry lets out a scoff making you look at him as your hands go from his chest to the tops of his shoulders.

“Why would that make me feel better?” You feel him pull you a little closer as he leans back against your counter.

“Because I broke the rules so it can be my punishment?” Harry rubs his lips together as it all begins to click for him what exactly is going on in your mind. When the two of you first started dating he knew you were new to this type of situation but he’s not quite sure where along the lines he gave you the impression that if you broke a rule that you were going to be reprimanded for it because when it comes to you Harry doesn’t think he has it in him to punish you, especially in a way that would make you unhappy.

“Rules can get broken every now and then love it’s okay.” He explains as his hands slide from your hips to your lower back. “I don’t want you to think you’re going to be punished when it happens though because that’s not how this works.” You feel his hands slowly begin to run up and down your back making you relax under his touch. “I do things for you to make your life a little easier but I also just want to make you happy because that’s what makes me happy.” His tone is extra soft as he reminds you why he does the things he does for you.

“You make me very happy.” Harry smiles at your words as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead.

“Good.” Is all he says before you feel his lips on yours making your hands go from his shoulders to the back of his neck pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. “You know I’m not going to let you keep your shitty seats right? I’m going to have to fix that.” He tells you when he finally pulls away and you just nod because of course Harry isn’t going to let you go to a concert and have bad seats.

“Okay.”

“Where is the show at?”

“The Forum.”

“Oh really? I’m sort of familiar with that venue.” You just playfully roll your eyes at Harry’s teasing tone making him laugh as he leans down and places a kiss to your cheek. “Where are your seats?”

“Uh section 233.” Harry nods as you begin playing with the hair at the back of his neck. “I got four tickets.”

“Am I invited?” He asks with a playful smirk and you just nod. “And you wanted me to sit in a shitty seat?” He jokes as you bring your hands from around his neck to try to hide your face making Harry laugh as your cheeks get warm from embarrassment. “Just give me the details and I’ll handle it baby.” He wraps his hands around your wrists so he can pull your hands away from your face.

“Okay.” You say with a nod while Harry gives you a warm smile. “Can we have a lazy day?” You ask expecting him to just nod and pull you into his arms so he can hold you a bit but to your surprise he shakes his head as he stands up and drops your hands from his.

“Sorry love we have a few errands to run.” You raise an eyebrow as he grabs one of your hands and interlocks his fingers with yours before leading you out of the kitchen and towards your front door. “Firstly we need to go get your wallet and then I’m thinking a little shopping?” The mention of shopping lets you know this is Harry’s way of getting to spend money on you to sort of make up for the money you spent yesterday but you also won’t be surprised if later in the week he sends you the amount you spent on the tickets to put back into your account.

“Then we can cuddle on the couch and watch a movie?” Harry turns to look at you before he grabs his keys from the table by your front door, he can’t help the grin that takes over his face at how adorable you look standing there asking him for a cuddle.

“Yes then we can have a cuddle.” He answers before he leans in and places a quick kiss to your lips making you smile. “I love you sweetheart you know that right?” You nod as he gives your hand a nice squeeze.

“I know and I love you too.” He can’t help himself when he steals another kiss from you making you giggle when he pulls away.

“Good now let’s get going.”

[izvmimi]

cw: mildly suggestive.

Yuuji doesn’t typically call without priming through a text or when he’s on his way to his former sensei’s home, which is why when Gojo picks up the phone at the crack of dawn on a Sunday morning, to hear Yuuji’s loud greeting on the other end of the receiver, he is genuinely taken off guard.

“What’s up?”

It’s barely 7am, and even the great Satoru Gojo is still rubbing the crust out of his eyes. Yuuji sounded partially out of breath when greeting him, and Satoru is partially suspicious that something must be wrong, but the idea of his former student running from a curse on God’s good morning and calling him instead of taking care of the problem at hand is laughable if anything. 

“When did you know?”

Gojo rises, stretching his left arm over his head as he swings his legs over the edge of the bed, instead of rising up straight like a board like the creature he is, and yawns.

“The hell are you talking about?”

Yuuji is still slightly out of breath, and Gojo suspects that he’s outside from the whooshing of air hitting the receiver. “Yuuji where exactly are you?”

“Running.”

Gojo decides not to probe further, but Yuuji always seems to offer more information than necessary anyway. 

“I can’t get her out of my head. I’ve been out here for two hours, just circling the neighborhood. People are looking suspicious. If I get arrested, please bail me out.”

The words come out choppy and agitated and Gojo can’t help but chuckle, knowing exactly who the ‘her’ is.

“So you thought to call me and not Megumi or Todo?” Gojo laughs. The phone is now on speakerphone as Gojo makes his way to the bathroom, setting the phone down on the sink counter as he splashes water on his face.

“You’re the only one who can relate,” is Yuuji’s simple reply.

“Well, that’s silly.” Gojo replies. But he knows it’s true - after all, the first thing he did upon waking is send his favorite person a good morning message that she’ll pretend didn’t make her heart flutter. And now, just like that, he’s thinking about you, and just maybe he should join Yuuji on that lap.

“So how did you know? When does it end?”

Yuuji has finally stopped, and his pants are louder now. Gojo can imagine him, hunched over, possibly at an intersection of roads, squinting from the light of the morning sun, discharging the energy of unrealized feelings.

“Never.”

Gojo was once there, many nights prior where lovesickness made it hard for him to eat or drink, instead preferring to feast his eyes on the image of you smiling, laughing, pouting, turning your head to him and away, biting your lip, scrunching your nose, twiddling your thumbs, reaching out for him… On that alone, he could feed and feed until he were full to bursting, and then more.

“That’s awful news!”

“Isn’t that the truth?” He replies. Gojo’s camera flips on and he lowers the hem of his pajamas just enough to expose his V-line, the miniscule more reasonable part of his psyche praying that he didn’t actually turn on Facetime, before snapping a suggestive photo and sending it to you.

‘Missed u’ it says in the caption, before he hits send.

Two seconds pass before Yuuji finally says, “Dude what the hell.”

Gojo’s stomach sinks. He was sure he had checked…

“That wasn’t meant-“

“Forget it, I’m going to call Aoi. Thanks though.”

Gojo ends up laughing as Yuuji hangs up, amused that his student has turned out more like him than expected. 

A last text message comes from Yuuji.

Angle more on the side and move the towel from the background. I’m sure she’ll like it.

The student surpasses the master.

[yousaveeveryonebutwhosavesyou]

How to Talk to Someone Who is Struggling⁣

It can be tough to talk to someone who is struggling with their mental health. We want our friends and family to feel comfortable reaching out to us, but most people aren’t actually sure how to react when that happens. I’ve heard a lot of people express fears that they might say the wrong thing or even make the situation worse. And that’s valid. It took a lot of training for me to learn how to talk to suicidal and depressed people, and they just don’t teach those skills in regular school. But having those skills can save lives. ⁣

So if you’ve got a struggling person in your life and you’re not sure how to talk to them, remember:⁣

Don’t be afraid of using the word ‘suicide’. It’s a harsh word, and a lot of people are scared that talking about it directly might push someone to do it. It won’t. Suicidal people are thinking about suicide in explicit terms all the time; hearing the word out loud isn’t any worse than the things they’ve already been thinking. Using euphemisms and beating around the bush just makes it hard to have an honest conversation. Be direct. Say exactly what you mean. Ask your loved ones if they are thinking about killing themselves. Say the word suicide. It’s hard, but it’s important.⁣

Don’t make the conversation all about you. It is really, really tempting to jump in and tell a struggling person all about your own struggles with mental health in order to empathize with them. Don’t do it. Not right away. You might mean well, but when you launch into your own mental health struggles, you are suddenly putting the other person in a position where they have to comfort and empathize with you, when it should be the other way around. They don’t have the energy for that right now. Let them talk about themselves first. ⁣

Don’t have an intense emotional reaction to what they’re saying. This is really, really hard, but it’s important. When someone is telling you about their self-harm or suicidal thoughts, try to keep your face and your voice as neutral as possible. Offer empathy in a calm, comforting way, and avoid crying in their presence if you can. They are watching you closely to see what’s okay and what’s not okay to disclose; if they see you getting upset at what they’re saying, they won’t want to talk about it anymore. And once again, it puts them in a position where they have to stop and comfort you. ⁣

Don’t say “I know exactly how you feel”. Because you don’t. And hearing statements like this, even if they’re well-meaning, can come across as dismissive or patronizing. Even if you’ve been in a very similar situation, you can’t really know what it feels like to be someone else, or feel the pain they feel. Instead of saying “I know what you’re going through”, validate their pain and say “I can’t imagine what you’re going through” - because you can’t. ⁣

Don’t ask “why” questions. Asking questions that start with “why” automatically puts people on the defensive. When you ask “why do you feel that way”, it makes people feel like they have to justify themselves to you. Instead, ask “what are some of the reasons you feel that way?” This is a much more non-judgmental way to phrase things, and it allows people to explain what’s going on without feeling like they’re on trial. ⁣

Don’t be afraid of silence. When someone tells you something really heavy, sometimes you just won’t know what to say. That’s okay. A lot of the time, distressed people aren’t looking for comforting words - they just need someone to sit there in their pain with them, by their side. Silences are a natural part of intense conversations, and they’re important. Let them happen. And sometimes, a long silence gives someone the space to say the things they were afraid to say before. ⁣

Don’t try to “fix” the problem. When someone comes to you with a problem - their partner dumped them, they lost their job, they’re broke - it can be really, really tempting to just start hurling solutions at them. We’ll sign you up for dating sites! We’ll spruce up your resume! We’ll make you a budget! If the person reaching out to you wanted that kind of help, they would ask for it. If they’re reaching out to talk about their problems, they aren’t looking for practical solutions right now - they don’t need you to fix it, they need you to listen to them, understand how much they’re hurting, and sit by them when they cry. ⁣

Validate their feelings. Distressed people often feel that their emotions are ridiculous, or that they don’t “deserve” to feel sad because they are better off in life than other people. Remind them that they have a right to their own feelings. Confirm that, yes, their situation sucks and it’s okay for them to be upset about it. Never confirm suicidal feelings, but do let them know that their sadness or anger or shame is okay to feel, and they have a right to feel it.⁣

Offer resources only if they are okay with it. Pelting a suicidal person with unwanted pamphlets isn’t helpful. Even if you know a great mental health resource in your area, it’s important to ask if the person even wants resources, or feels comfortable reaching out to a resource. Always check in with the person’s comfort after providing a resource, and ask if you can help them to be more comfortable accessing this resource. If you gave them the name of a local mental health clinic, ask if they would like you to call the clinic for them, or accompany them to the clinic - offer whatever help you can, but don’t push resources, and always check in with their needs and comfort. ⁣

These tips aren’t perfect, and they won’t necessarily work for everyone - they are a guideline to get you started, and to feel more confident approaching struggling family and friends. Having intense conversations about mental health or suicide with a loved one can be overwhelming, and many people don’t feel prepared to have these conversations, even if they want to. Do your best. Even if you make mistakes, showing someone that you honestly care about them and you’re making an effort to be there for them can make a world of difference. Having an imperfect conversation is better than no conversation at all. ⁣

If you’re still having doubts about your ability to have these conversations, remember that there are helpful videos online that you can learn from, and you can always call suicide hotlines to get tips and reassurance about approaching a loved one you’re concerned about. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter how you have this conversation - it matters that you have it.

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (15)

She ever thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer is determined to find her whereabouts. wc: 3.5k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA

A/n: I want to thank everyone for sticking to this series, don’t worry, I didn’t forget it, life has just been weird lately😔 Also I want to mention there’s like 5 parts left? I think

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"REID, NONE OF THIS IS YOUR FAULT."

Spencer wasn't sure how many times he heard those words. He knew they were told to bring him comfort, something his team members kept on reciting, yet a sense of skepticism gnawed at him. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were nothing more than lies. How could he not when the only thing he could do was blame himself for what happened?

His shoulders slumped, his eyes were filled with anguish, and his heart held a heavy burden of guilt.

He should've deduced the real Unsub.

He should've been the one keeping her safe.

You also should've never left her fucking house, you idiot.

He hated swearing, even if it was in his own mind—which, truthfully, was so much worse considering he despised being trapped in his own head. Possessing a psychology degree enabled him to understand the detrimental effects of being trapped within one's own thoughts, yet he couldn't escape the clutches of his own mind. The knowledge of this predicament weighed heavily on him, a cruel irony that he understood all too well.

"Pretty boy, are you even listening to me?"

He was, he just didn't want to respond. Morgan was the third person to say those words to him. The first came from JJ, who was the first one to assure him when he had a panic attack at the warehouse. Second was from Prentiss, who he met when he rushed to Y/n's house after collecting himself. And now Morgan was cornering him at the hospital as they waited for Sandy, laid in one of the rooms, to recover from her concussion.

"Reid."

"I heard you," he snapped. Then a thought occurred to him at Morgan's sudden knowledge of his involvement with their witness. "How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"The reason why I'm acting this way." He had to elaborate when Morgan merely raised his eyebrows. "Why I'm... blaming myself so much."

"Everyone knows you're involved with her. Heck, I knew it the first time we met her that night. Remember that? You pretended you didn't know her," Morgan recalled. "You weren't as subtle as you think."

God, that night seemed like it happened yesterday. He couldn't believe how much had happened, and to think she was just a stranger when he first met her, a stranger he would never see again... now all he could think about was her. Her smile. Her safety. His stomach churned. The guilt he felt was a relentless, gnawing ache that refused to let go.

Morgan suddenly pulled him. His sudden, determined grip propelled him toward the vending machine stationed at the far end of the hospital corridor. Irritated, he couldn't help but drag his feet along the floor. "What are you doing?"

"You need coffee," Morgan replied, "you function better with caffeine in your system."

"We need to wait for Sandy—"

"She's not going anywhere, Kid. There's no use hovering in front of her door now."

Reluctantly, Spencer gave in. He allowed his friend to pour a cup of coffee; the warmth and aroma offering a small comfort amidst the hospital's stark surroundings. Slowly, with a nod of gratitude, he accepted the cup from his outstretched hand.

"How are you holding up?" Morgan asked.

Spencer took a moment to collect his thoughts before responding to the question. "It's hard to process everything."

A heavy silence hung between them. Morgan's sigh broke the stillness, and he began, "Look, it's not—"

But Spencer cut him off, his voice tinged with guilt and self-blame. "Not my fault?" he said with a mix of frustration and anguish. "Morgan, I was there before it happened. I was at her house before I left to check the warehouse, just to step into his trap. The Unsub managed to pass through Officer Anderson and hurt her closest friend at the same time. If I was still there..."

"Reid, it's not about placing blame. You couldn't have known what would happen. The Unsub's actions were calculated and malicious, even if you had stayed, we can't predict how events would have unfolded." Morgan gave him a pointed look. "Blaming yourself won't help her, and it won't help you either."

Spencer's head shook with regret as he leaned against the cool hospital wall, his thoughts consumed by the painful memories of that night. "I hurt her," he confessed, his voice filled with remorse. "My words were hurtful, and so were my actions, and the thought of... the thought of her being in danger with the last thought of me—"

"We'll find her," Morgan assured him. "And when we do, you'll apologize to her for whatever happened."

Spencer gazed at him with a sense of desperation. In that instant, he unearthed a deep, previously unrecognized truth buried within his heart. It was a stark revelation, an understanding that struck him like a bolt of lightning amidst the storm of emotions he was weathering.

For the first time, he comprehended the true extent of his feelings. Until now, her presence in his life had been a catalyst, a spur-of-a-moment he never expected. He had taken her warmth for granted, never fully appreciating the depth of his attachment to her.

However, the threat to her safety had shattered his complacency. The fear of losing her, coupled with the regret of leaving their last interaction on such a bitter note, had awakened a realization within him. It hit him with a force that was as terrifying as it was enlightening. It was a moment of clarity, a realization that his feelings were far more significant than he had ever allowed himself to admit.

"You really like her, don't you?"

Spencer looked up, but before he could respond, his brief moment of vulnerability was abruptly interrupted by a sudden commotion. Without a second thought, he hastily left his coffee on a nearby chair and rushed toward the end of the hallway, Morgan following closely behind, as a doctor rushed into Sandy's room.

Between the flurry of medical staff, Spencer spotted a passing nurse and stepped into her line of vision. His voice was urgent, laced with concern as he asked, "What happened?"

The nurse delivered the news, "She's gaining consciousness," before swiftly disappearing into the room.

"We'll get some answers," Morgan reassured him from behind. "Don't worry, Reid, we'll find her."

Spencer nodded, his heart filled with a renewed sense of determination. The fact that Sandy had woken up was a glimmer of hope. It wasn't until a few minutes later the doctor emerged from the room, regarding the two men waiting in front of the door.

"She's awake and stable, but we'll need to monitor her for any potential complications." After a brief pause, the doctor continued, "It's apparent that she's still quite shaken. I would recommend that only one of you Agents speak with her."

They both nodded in agreement as the doctor left. Morgan turned toward Spencer. "You should talk to her."

He hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Morgan confirmed. "I'll go check on Oliver in the meantime."

Spencer's thoughts swirled with unease at the mention of Oliver, their suspected Unsub who had turned out to be a pawn in a larger scheme, who was lying unconscious on another floor. He nodded, and as Morgan walked away, he slowly gathered himself and entered the room.

Stark, white walls greeted him as he stepped inside, followed by the beeping sound of the monitors rhythmically punctuating the silence. Sandy lay in the bed, a fragile figure amidst the pristine white sheets. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling as he called out to her.

"Sandy?" Spencer carefully addressed her, observing the way she shifted on the bed before her gaze slowly met his. "I'm Dr. Spencer—"

"Reid," she finished for him, locking her gaze onto his with a surprising familiarity. "You're the FBI agent she's been talking about."

A moment of surprise shot through him, the realization that she had been talking about him caught him off guard. "She told you about me?"

"On a few occasions," she confessed, and then her gaze sharpened as she looked at him. "You hurt her."

Spencer's heart sank deeper, a heavy burden of guilt weighing him down. "What did she say?"

"She never really told us why she looked so sad that night, and considering you were mostly the topic of conversation when I was with her, I just assumed you had something to do with her mood swings."

His guilt deepened, yet he couldn't help but notice Sandy's choice of words. "Us? You both weren't alone?"

Sandy's gaze held a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What happened?" she pressed instead, her brows furrowing. "What happened after I passed out?"

Spencer took a hesitant step closer to the bed. "What do you remember?"

"I remember inhaling something disgusting."

He nodded gravely. "We suspect the Unsub used Chloroform on you."

Sandy's furrowed brow reflected both her confusion and unease. "What's an Unsub?"

"Unknown Subject, it's a term used when we haven't yet identified a suspect in a crime."

A heavy silence enveloped the room as Sandy absorbed the information. Her thoughts churned, and a growing sense of unease gnawed at her. A thought suddenly hit her. She glanced around the room, her anxiety mounting in the absence of her friend.

The question escaped her lips with an anxious edge to her voice. "Where's Y/n?"

Sandy didn't like the expression that crossed Spencer's face. It was a look that confirmed her worst suspicions, and a wave of dread washed over her as she braced herself for what he was about to say.

"We don't have that information," Spencer confessed, and the shock in her widened eyes was unmistakable. Her lips quivered as her thoughts raced, grappling with the gravity of the situation. She found herself haunted by guilt that this had somehow happened because of her.

"It's my fault," she whispered, her voice a mere breath, but the weight of her confession carried regret.

Spencer now understood what Morgan meant about avoiding self-blame. "It's not your fault," he reiterated. "Listen, there's no use in blaming yourself, what you can do is help us by recalling what you remembered that night."

Sandy's gaze remained troubled, but she eventually opened up about what had transpired, something he didn't see coming.

"I- It was Eric," she admitted, her voice trembling with the admission. "Eric came with me to her house."

Spencer was struck by shock and disbelief, his mind racing to process this revelation.

"Eric Adler?"

She nodded in confirmation, and his world collapsed.

Spencer wasn't perfect. He knew that, like anyone else, he could make mistakes. Typically, he accepted his humanity and the occasional errors that came with it. However, now was not the time for him to make any mistakes, not when her life hung on the line.

He felt like a complete idiot. He was renowned for his intellect and now it seemed as if his stupidity was mocking him. The realization of his own oversight infuriated him and a storm of anger surged through his veins. He was mad at himself, seething with frustration. He hastily fished out his phone and sent a message to Garcia.

Find everything you can on Eric Adler. Now.

Turning his gaze back to Sandy, his features shifted to a more grave demeanor. The urgency in his voice was palpable.

"Tell me everything you know."

Her head was spinning. Y/n groaned at the relentless ache throbbing inside her head. It felt as though a sledgehammer was pounding her skull, every throb sending ripples of pain through her. Her body felt heavy, each limb an effort to move, and her eyelids seemed to be fused.

She managed to shift, and it was at that moment, as her fingers brushed against the coarse bedcover, that she realized she was lying on what appeared to be a bed. The mattress beneath her was surprisingly comfortable, a stark contrast to the chaos inside her head. She shifted again, and after countless attempts, she finally managed to blink her eyes open.

"Took you long enough, Sleeping Beauty."

The voice sent a jolt of panic surging through her, eyes widening as she strained to focus on her surroundings. The room was shrouded in darkness, save for the faint, flickering glow of an old lamp perched on top of a crate. Occasional beams of moonlight pierced through the dusty window panes, casting eerie, uneven patterns on the wooden floor.

The unmistakable scent of hay filled her senses, reinforcing the realization that she was in an old, rustic barn, long past its days of use. The walls, rough and weathered, seemed to close in on her, the space surprisingly narrow with the mattress beneath her positioned by the floor.

But that wasn't what surprised her the most. It was Eric, seated on a wooden chair that had clearly seen better days, watching her intensely with a smile on his face.

"If you hadn't woke up earlier, I would have resorted to my own methods," his smile looked even more ominous. "And I can assure you, you wouldn't have liked it."

Her wide eyes remained fixed on him. What happened to her kind coworker? Or her good friend? This was an entirely different man that she knew of. The eerie smile, so out of place in their past interactions, was etched onto his face like a sinister mask.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he pondered, leaning forward, his voice carrying an unsettling calmness. In his hand, she now realized, was a glinting knife, pointed at her way. "It's just me, Y/n, I'm no stranger to you."

He wasn't a stranger then, but he certainly was now. She stared at him, a creeping realization dawning as she slowly sat up, her fingers brushing against something cold and unyielding, and her heart sank.

"I wouldn't move too much if I were you."

Her eyes moved to the chain holding her, the metal bolted securely into the wall. It was a thick, unforgiving shackle, the links rough against her skin, the very sight of it sent shivers down her spine. Fear took a firm hold of her, like a vice squeezing her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She trembled, her voice shaking as she finally managed to speak, "W-Why are you doing this?"

"You're seriously questioning me when you should be thanking me instead?"

Her voice wavered as she responded, her fear making way for a touch of anger. "Thanking you for what? Murdering people?"

"They weren't innocent,” he spat, his anger flaring as he glared at her. "You should know better than to act as if you didn't want them dead."

"I didn't," she assured him.

"You resented them."

She let out a shaky breath. "...maybe, but I would never wish any of them harm." Then she choked out, "Why are you doing this, Eric?"

His features softened, his gaze locked onto hers as he leaned closer. "You really want to know the reason?" He held her gaze with a disturbing tenderness as he whispered, "Because I love you, Sweetheart."

Her heart pounded as his words hung in the air. "No, you don't," she quickly responded, her voice laced with a mixture of fear and disbelief. "If you did, you wouldn't have—"

"I said," he pressed on, the knife still pointing toward her, his eyes locked onto hers with an eerie intensity. "Because I love you."

She knew it was best not to provoke someone holding a knife. Instead, she carefully asked, her voice trembling, "Since when?"

"Ever since you started working with us," he replied with a smile that felt more disconcerting than affectionate. "You've always been very special to me."

"Why... why didn't you tell me?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, I was scared of rejection, I guess. You never took any interest in me, and surprisingly I was fine with that, so the only way I could care for you was to be your friend." He grinned, his smile devoid of any warmth. "And kill people who hurt you, of course."

Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over and streaming down her face. Her trembling lips caught them, the taste of her own despair lingering on her tongue, a bitter flavor that seemed to confine the darkness of the moment.

"Oh, stop crying. They were never good enough for you," he chided. He got up and started to pace in front of her, his words steeped in a delusional justification for his actions. "Your scumbag of an ex? He should've seen it coming. That pervert of a lawyer? Should've cut him into pieces. And Jamison? Well, I honestly think I was doing a favor for everyone who hated him."

He gazed at her with a mixture of pity and disdain as she continued to cry, his expression an eerie blend of false sympathy. "Don't worry, I didn't kill them all..." He let out a sigh. "I took pity on Oliver."

"W-What did you do to him?" She cried, her voice breaking with a mix of fear and desperation.

"Gave him a few stabs, but nothing too serious," he replied casually, waving the knife through the air as if discussing a minor inconvenience. "He'll be fine."

Her heart sank at his callous response. "I thought you grew up together."

"I lied about not being close with him the other day, you know? We were best friends, actually. But that's another story to tell," he admitted, his words revealing a chilling aspect of his twisted psyche. He then glared at her, a mix of frustration and hostility in his eyes. "You seriously need to stop looking at me like that. I spared him, it was only a few stabs."

Anger surged within her, ignited by his disturbingly casual demeanor, and she found herself unable to suppress her mounting fury any longer. "You're fucking sick," she spat.

He took a step forward, his eyes narrowing as he loomed closer. "You shouldn't talk to me like that," he emphasized, pointing the knife at her once more. "You're chained to the wall, I could do anything to you."

She took a deep breath, trying to calm the erratic beat of her heart, though the horror still gripped her like a vice. Her face was etched with a stark, unmistakable expression of fear and disbelief. He rolled his eyes.

"Don't act so scared now, I won't do anything—well, not now, at least," he stated with a laugh, taking a step back, as if he were granting her some temporary respite. "For now... I have yet to finish my vengeance for you."

"V- Vengeance? You think of them as vengeance?" She asked in disbelief. "Oliver didn't even hurt me."

"He kept pestering you when you clearly weren't interested in him, he needed a little lesson," he explained, a chilling justification in his tone. Then he narrowed his eyes at her. "But there is one person who has hurt you recently, and I think we both know who that is."

His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, filling her with a growing sense of dread. Her eyes widened, her voice heavy with desperation. "No! Eric, no, please, don't hurt him—"

"He's not good for you, Y/n. He never will be."

"Eric! Please!" She was beginning to wail, her pleas filled with anguish and despair, as she felt the walls of her world closing in on her. The chains rattled ominously when she moved. "Please..."

"I need to punish him, Sweetheart, he hurt you," he said with a chilling detachment. He gave her a pitiful look. "Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows."

"Please—Please don't, Eric," She pleaded desperately, her voice shaking with an overwhelming fear. "No..." She shook her head and sobbed, "Don't h-hurt him... please..."

Her pleas fell on deaf ears, and the disturbing determination in his gaze made it clear that he had made up his mind. He turned around, leaving her in a state of helpless dread. "I'll see you later," he added with a sinister remark. "Don't cry too much while I visit your FBI boyfriend."

As he walked away, the barn's shadows seemed to close in around her. She did exactly the opposite—she relentlessly cried herself to sleep, seeking solace in the safety of her dreams, however fleeting, as she yearned for an end to this nightmare that had somehow become her reality.

>> NEXT PART

a/n: y'all can stop cursing poor Oliver now😭

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PLEASE READ: If you already asked me to be added but you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched or I can't tag you. Or if you want to be removed you can also tell me. Thank you :)

Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[moriartyluver]

Can we get vampire william james moriarty x reader?🙏🏻

A/N: vampire liam is so 🛐 would let him suck my blood. Anyways, in honour of Halloween 🤭

Character(s): William James Moriarty x gn! reader

Prompt: Vampire William James Moriarty

Format: headcannons

Genre: miscellaneous/ mildly spicy

Warnings: blood, vampires, reader’s gender isn’t specified, mildly nsfw but it’s mostly me being silly. Vampires can see sunlight it just makes them feel a bit faint. Also they’re allergic to garlic but it doesn’t kill them for the sake of the fic

This man is so fine no matter what but as a vampire???? 🤭

When you first met, he wasn’t like Edward from twilight and trying not to devour you or something but you did attract his attention and smelt nice to him.

He was more attracted to your personality though, not so much the scent of your blood. Don’t get me wrong though, he’d love a bite but he’s a respectful gentleman and wouldn’t say that aloud.

He might keep an eye on your for a bit before you start courting, as a bat. You’d see this silly little bat appearing on your windowsill every night after your first meeting and all it does it watch you. Sometimes he watches you as you sleep considering vampires are a little nocturnal. I mean, he doesn’t sleep much anyways, vampire or not. And when a pretty girl is added to the equation? Yeah no chance.

He definitely has a very vampy appearance, but you don’t think much of it first, when you bump into the handsome stranger at a ball. He asks you to dance, so hesitant you might’ve assumed he was shy.

Dark red eyes and sharp teeth? Aswell as a very chiselled and slim face? Nah, just hot. Nothing to see here.

Obviously he charms you quickly, but before he can even bring up marriage (because that’s what you did back then when a girl was attractive. You asked to marry her after meeting her three times) , he doesn’t know whether to tell you the truth about his situation.

When he does, you don’t exactly care too much. Is it even a flaw at this point? Regardless, you still love him because it’s William fucking Moriarty, who wouldn’t?

Anyways, when you are in a relationship, whether it be betrothed or married, he tried to force a distance between the two of you, out of fear he may lose control and kill you

If he wants your blood, he won’t ask and try to survive off animals, but honestly, if you matched his freak, you might just offer your neck up.

It takes some convincing but he eventually gives in to his impulses and sucks a decent amount of blood out of your neck (wow that’s hot)

I feel like he’d be afraid of what would happen to him after you die. He’s immortal, and you aren’t. You might offer to change, but he doesn’t want to curse you with becoming a vampire.

I can imagine a sort of meeting in every life thing, with Liam. Like as if you keep getting reincarnated, he finds you every time, and then you eventually die.

He might decide to be selfish and let you be immortal with him, after all those times of having to watch you die whilst he continues to love you. It’s more worth it in his eyes to make you suffer with him than continue to watch you suffer for the rest of eternity. That’s when he finally turns you into a vampire. And you never get bored of him.

[patrophthia]

Hii soo I have a request for Regulus x reader :) okay so like maybe the reader got like a bad haircut or smt and feels very insecure and so Regulus comforts them and says like it's not that bad lol. You don't have to write it if you don't want to it's just a request! :)

i’m sorry this took so long, i have no excuse ive just been lazy 😭😭😭 but this idea, is so so cute hello?!?!

veritaserum | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, comforting, a bit suggestive, not proof read!

One thing about Regulus Black is that he tends to take things a little too seriously. Just a little, he promises as he watch you fuss over your new hair do. 

A slight frown playing at your lips as you try to toss your locks in different directions. Left, right, left again, right again. Only to finally give up and huff out in frustration, turning to him with an all too upset look on your face. 

“I told them to only take a few inches off, this way too much and it’s not even the style I asked for them to do! How am I supposed to go around looking like this, Reg?” 

Regulus narrow his eyes, squinting as he tried to find what exactly was so wrong about your new cut. Sure it’s short, and definitely different from the pass styles he’s seen on you but you still look breathtaking, isn’t that all that matters? “Looking like…?” 

“A derange person who doesn’t know how to take care of themselves,” you say, flailing your hands up in frustration. “Merlin, what am I going to do?”

“It’s not bad,” he offers, shrugging. And when your frowns deepens, he adds. “Really, it isn’t.” 

“You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” your murmur, “just admit it doesn’t look good, I won’t be mad at you.” 

“I’m not! I genuinely think it looks good on you.” And because Regulus tends to take things about too seriously, he reaches into his book bag before pulling out a small clear vial. “Here, this is veritaserum.” 

He doesn’t need to explain it to you, the both of you having studied the content within the while a few classes ago in Potions. Regulus, pulls the cork open before quickly downing the clear substance.

There’s a few moments of silence where you both stared at one another. You not believing that he really downed an entire vial of truth serum just to prove of his point, and when you take a step forward; Regulus opens up his mouth to speak. 

“Your new hair cut looks amazing on you, Mon chéri,” he says first. “Breath taking even.” 

The corner of your lips twist upwards on its own accord, heart softening at his words. “You didn’t have to drink that just to tell me.” 

“You wouldn’t have believe me otherwise,” he hiccups, short dark curls falling gracefully onto his forehead. Regulus, pushes it off his face, gazing at you with content. “Matter of fact, I think I’m getting hard just looking at you, I can’t fake that.” 

“Gross, Reg,” you groaned, making your way towards him with a fake disgusted look, “you didn’t have to tell me that.” 

“I didn’t want to either,” he says, reaching out for you, and you let him take your hand, “but I can’t really control what I want to say right now since I—” he lifts up the empty vial into your line of sight “—anyways, your hair looks good on you. And if you’re so worried about it then I’m sure there’s hair tonic that’ll grow it back out in a moments time.” 

“Mhmm,” you hum, nodding as you agreed with him, “think I’ll keep it like this for a few weeks though.” 

And when Regulus lets out a quiet —barely even there, “yes!” You think that he might’ve liked this hair cut more than he lets on. 

[takaraphoenix]

Sunday WIP

I got tagged yesterday by @jadezdominion and let's pretend I wasn't too damn beat from three days of con and posted this yesterday - here's an excerpt from the next chapter of The Clever One, Chapter 3: Congratulations, It's Puppies (1)!

--

“I went to see the Alpha,” Jackson growled softly.

Oh, crap. Stiles’ face scrunched up. Jackson hadn’t exactly made a secret about wanting the Bite and considering the way Stiles had used Jackson as his personal Uber to Kate Argent’s execution, there was no hiding where the Hales were or who was in charge. Stiles sighed and leaned back.

“So, what. Now you want to join Scotty’s Werewolf 101 classes?”

The constipated look on Jackson’s face intensified. “No. He didn’t turn me.”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow. Peculiar. Even Stiles thought Jackson would make the perfect werewolf.

“He said I needed your…” Jackson made a disgruntled sound. “Permission first.”

Scott next to Stiles nearly died from swallowing his drink the wrong way, wheezing and coughing. Stiles clapped him half-heartedly on the back while a wicked grin spread over his lips. Okay. Sure, he’d asked Peter to get a heads up, but he hadn’t expected Peter to want his permission. Taking a slow, deep breath, Stiles tuned down the smirk and offered a more serious expression.

“Did he explain it to you?” Stiles asked. “What the bite really means? That it may not take? That being a werewolf is dangerous, risky? The full moon, the hunters roaming our territory?”

Jackson seemed startled by this down-to-business side of Stiles, heck, even Scott looked surprised. Well, Stiles couldn’t snark his way through being Alpha Mate if he wanted to be taken seriously.

“Yeah,” Jackson answered after a moment. “After he told me that he’d only turn me if you… allowed… it, he gave me the whole spiel. I still want it.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow at the determination in Jackson’s voice. “Why? Give me a good reason. And don’t make it your pissing contest with Scott, because that’s not a reason to trade safety for being hunted, for losing control of yourself during the full moon, for potentially dying if it doesn’t take. Beating Scott at Lacrosse isn’t worth any of that.”

There was a stretch of silence and Jackson looked so uncomfortable. “Well, out with it. You need my permission? Convince me why you want the bite.”

“Pack,” Jackson growled out with a frown. “Peter… Peter said pack means family. Trust, loyalty, relying on each other, having each other’s backs. I want that. That’s… That’s what I really want.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if Jackson even noticed just how vulnerable his voice sounded with that statement. How genuine. It startled Stiles. This was a side of Jackson he’d never seen before, a side maybe only Lydia knew. A side the jock might be covering up with the asshole attitude.

“Okay,” Stiles agreed after a moment, earning a startled whine from Scott. “You heard him, Scotty. He knows what he’s signing up for. If he really wants it, and if he understands what pack means – and that it will mean he’ll have to bring that same trust and loyalty to you and me – then okay.”

Jackson still looked wary, as though he didn’t fully believe Stiles. “Just like that. After-”

“Yeah,” Stiles cut him off, waving a dismissive hand in a near playful manner, before offering Jackson the sharpest, coldest look he could muster. “But don’t think you will ever get away with any of that bullshit again. I will not be pushed around or bullied in my own pack. If you sign up for this, you aren’t just signing up for us being pack-mates. I’m the Alpha Mate. In this pack, I’m the co-captain. There is no debate about it, whatever you do, you are not the leader here, you are a follower, a beta, and I outrank you. Think carefully on that. And if you still want in, then meet Scott and me in the parking lot after school, we’re driving out to the Hales anyway.”

With a sharp nod did Jackson get up, leaving Scott and Stiles alone. As soon as Jackson was out of earshot did Scott slap Stiles on the chest, staring at him with the largest eyes.

“What the fuck, dude, you want Jackson in the pack? Why and how and why?”

“Three excellent questions, Scotty boy,” Stiles grinned for a second before sobering up. “Because there was something to the look in his eyes when he said why he wants to be pack that I… believe.”

Recognize. It was the haunted, lonely look he’d seen in his own mirror after his mother’s death. Desperate to belong somewhere, to get a sense of family while his dad was drinking too much, his mom was six feet under and all of her family had left for Poland again. A bone-deep loneliness. That, that was a reason Stiles could understand, could relate to. Could accept.

[sharkboywrites]

Um. Hi. Im currently going......through something right now. so if requests are open, can i maybe request Hurt/Comfort Ruggie or Ace with a male reader who currently found out that reader lost/is losing someone or something important to them?

It would help me a lot thanks. Um. have a nice day and dont force yourself to fufil my request. And remember to take care of yourself or take breaks (This is my first time requesting anything from anyone, so thats also why i sound nervous and kind of word vomit a little bit.)

Ruggie and Ace With a Male S/O: Losing someone important to them

A/N: Hi, sorry I took so long to get to this, I’ve been very busy. Around the time that I got this request I also lost someone close to me, so it kinda hits hard. Hope you’re doing well

Male reader, mentions of death/loss

Ruggie

- Ruggie was doing his usual shenanigans, probably running errands for Leona, when he found you curled up by a tree in the courtyard

- At first he was hesitant to approach you. Maybe you were upset, maybe you were just trying to rest, maybe you hurt yourself

- When he did approach you he noticed that you were upset right off the bat

- Instead of immediately asking questions, he decided to sit by you instead, wrapping an arm around you, but only if you gave him permission to

- He waited until you were ready to explain what happened, and when you did he was upset for you

- He knows what loss is like, his life growing up in the Savannah wasn’t easy, and it was always a fear that sat in the back of his mind

- He isn’t exactly the best person at comforting, but he does his best

- He lets you lay on him, use him as support to lay on while he tells you it’s gonna be okay

- He won’t downplay it or pretend like nothings happened, in fact he’ll probably directly address it

- He’ll use the reality of what’s happening to try and calm you down. Yes it is happening, but there’s nothing either of you can do about it and while it takes time to heal, the world doesn’t stop moving

- He’ll give you all the comfort you want, and when you feel a bit better, he’ll offer to spend more time with you and go do something, like stealing food from the cafeteria

- He’s there for you when you need him, anything you want and he’ll be running to get it, and while his approach at comforting is a bit straight forward, he’s still doing his best and wants you to be okay

Ace

- Ace isn’t really the best at comforting

- He’s more of the teasing type, so when it suddenly comes to such a serious situation, he’s not exactly sure what to do

- He’s noticed that something’s wrong, the way you’ve been so distant lately

- You seem so tired and upset, barley having the energy for school let alone his nagging

- He does eventually ask you what’s wrong, still teasing but you can tell through the act that he’s genuinely concerned for you

- When you tell him, he’s not exactly sure what to do

- Like we said before, he’s not the best at comforting, he gives a few awkward “I’m sorry”s and “that’s terrible”s

- While he isn’t good with his words, he shows that he wants to support you through his actions

- He’ll buy you a snack or two, invite you to his basketball practice, or suggest you two go do something fun as a way to distract you

- Distraction is his go to, he just wants to make you feel better

- It doesn’t have to be anything big either, it can be hanging out and putting on a show to get your mind off it

- If you do end up getting worse, starting to cry, he will comfort you

- He’ll hold you and run his fingers through your hair while telling you that everything will be okay

- It’s a bit awkward, but he really does put in his best effort

- He may not be perfect when it comes to comforting you, but he’ll always be there for you in different ways, even if one of those ways is getting in trouble with Riddle because you broke a few rules

[kenshimybeloved]

Part 3 of rambling !

The next time we see Johnny record something it’s Raiden using the amulet given to him by Liu Kang, and he’s finally excited to film. As things start to get significantly more interesting (considering they’re about to enter another realm through a fiery portal), we’ll see him pull his phone out more. But even with all of this going on around him, you’ll notice his facial expressions still aren’t exactly ecstatic. Impressed? Absolutely. Mesmerized? Not quite yet. However, we see him look over towards Kenshi while still recording the fiery portal, implying he didn’t have the conscious thought ‘I should get Kenshis reaction to this’- rather, he knows he should be paying attention to what’s happening in front of him, but he can’t help but look at the sexy swordsman. It’s then that he smiles and makes the decision to record him, maybe wanting to have a permanent reminder of what he looked like in this moment (who could blame him?). I also wanna point out real quick that Johnnys smile isn’t smug- it’s genuine. He’s not shoving the phone in Kenshis face to be purposely obnoxious, he just really likes him- even if he knows the feeling isn’t mutual (allegedly). It’s confirmed at the end of the game that Johnnys already decided Kenshi would be a main character of one or more of his films (he offers Kenshi to play himself at the end of the campaign, and in Johnnys tower ending as he’s saying he’s going to tell a bunch of mini stories we see Kenshi as one of the protags on his slideshow), so we can safely assume he’s recording Kenshi for the sake of his films, right? WRONG! That’s too easy. We also know he’s written Kung Lao and Raiden into his films, and he doesn’t make a point to shove his phone in their faces in this scene. There’s something special about Kenshi. Something intriguing. He’s so much more stoic and mysterious than the other two earth realmers he’s with, and quite the opposite of himself. When Kenshi notices Johnnys phone, he immediately pushes his hand away, clearly upset. Outside of their initial fight, this is the first time we see the two physically interact.

Edit: I forgot to add that while Kenshis reaction is definitely partly due to the fact that he finds Johnny to be annoying and disrespectful, I also think he’s uncomfortable with the idea of being seen. Throughout the story you’ll see Kenshi being his usual quiet self and nobody else really bats an eye- and I think he prefers it this way, it’s what he’s used to. When nobody’s looking at you there aren’t any expectations. But here comes Johnny, eager to make him more open. If I were Kenshi, this would definitely add to my apprehensions about Johnny. Why does he care so much? Why can’t he just let Kenshi be Kenshi? Not only do I think he’s uncomfortable being seen, I think it’s upsetting to him when Johnny pokes at him in front of others. It’s one thing to slowly open up to someone one-on-one, but in front of a bunch of strangers who’s opinions you highly value? What would they think if he started openly associating with Johnny? Would they lose respect for him? But again, I don’t even think Johnny was doing this intentionally this time. But Kenshi doesn’t know that, and I don’t think he even cares. It’s almost like Kenshi is also equally interested in Johnny, but because their personalities are so different they express it in different ways. Johnnys used to being in the spotlight and having zero privacy, trying to hide his feelings is just a waste of time. Kenshi is used to be reserved and unseen, the thought of openly liking someone is scary, especially someone like Johnny who draws a lot of attention. I also can’t really imagine it’s easy to form connections with people when you’ve been in a gang for such a long time. Anyways y’all know that song Golden by Harry Styles?

[ireallyliketalldarksultrymen]

HIII!! Can i get a fic of Creakblings? (Wild life Bigb and scott creakings!)

I LOVE RHEM SM!!! (this fic can be found here on ao3, and go vote mumskizzscott at @trafficblrpolyamshipbracket !!!)

—

BigB was a person who enjoyed to keep to himself. 

Now, don’t get him wrong. He liked people. Loved them, even! Cleo, Lizzie, Ren—those were his friends he was content with throughout last life (minus a couple of instances), and he wouldn’t have it any other way. But, if you had to ask BigB if he’d rather spend an afternoon with them at a bonfire, or eat dinner alone in his house on a clifftop, let it be known he’s running for the hills.

It’s mainly the silence that he enjoys, being able to pause and take a breather in a server full of constant hurry. Hurry to obtain materials, hurry to thieve, to slaughter. With each and every explosion, after explosion, after explosion, BigB’s longing for peace swells.

It wasn’t as if solitude was foreign to him, either; he’s spent games without allies, living right beside the border in shacks of wood. There, he found comfort in the flowers and fireflies, the frogs and fish that ran through his lakes. Those were enough for him.

And again, ages after secret life, his journey has aligned with seventeen others, hurtled into a biome and given one goal: barter, kill, win. Alliances shift like the wind, and the air thick with desperation. At this point, he’s lost all energy to complain; BigB’s fought long and hard enough to know the inevitable.

As sunlight wanes and the day’s star dips, players scattered across the map begin to settle for the night. The air once full with laughter and retorts starts to quiet, but not without a few disturbances. There’s the cows of Gem’s barn lowing at their calves, and Billy yipping at Pearl whenever she leaves for bed, offering those wide, glossy eyes in exchange for more scratches behind his ear. 

The Pale Garden whistles, a soft churr that flies by your ears. It’s both eerie and comforting, like a canary held in a cage that’s grasped by coal miner navigating dark tunnels of the underground. Silver bushels of leaves gleam like glitter, dangling from gnarled, cadet branches. It groans when wind dances between them, straining at the lightest pressure.

The chill in the forest wraps arounds you and clings like a second skin, seeping into the fabric of your clothes and causing gooseflesh to arise. It isn’t exactly the worst—he’s managed it for long enough to practically resist it—though BigB hated enduring the constant feeling of his fingers and toes numb.

He would think the eerie stillness of the forest would be enough from him. I mean, it did had everything he could want—a marsh, good scenery, and amazing view. The moment BigB stumbled upon, he figured he’d spend his days in forest alone.

Ultimately, he proved himself wrong.

BigB was a person who enjoyed to keep to himself…or so he thought.

Originally they weren’t the closest; Scott lived along the river way, residing among the flowers in the valley with his husband. BigB, on the other hand, settled far west in a forest of birch. He was on his own, days filled with mining for resources and building his castle. 

Their paths rarely crossed in the early days. BigB’s world was self-contained, and Scott had a want for more with every day that went by. While he thrived with the bustling alliances at his fingertips, BigB rarely had anyone knocking on his front door.

Soon enough came the Battle of the Red Desert. BigB had been adopted into fighting for Dogwarts alongside Ren’s knights. He remembers spotting Scott on the other end of the battlefield, aligned with Scar and Grian’s faction. He donned armor and a sword similar to BigB’s own that glinted in the dust bowel’s Sun.

He isn’t sure what had him drawn to Scott in the first place. Maybe it was his laugh, sticky-sweet, light, and able to fill the air in the harshest of circumstances. Something about it stood out among others, the noise feeling far from forced and carrying a warmth that settled in your chest. BigB found it to be harmonic, a melody sung by a songbird. 

Or, maybe it was his kindness. It always caught him off guard, being in a death game and all. He remembers the day after Cleo abandoned the Fairy Fort, bitterness radiating off of her. Scott had visited later in the day and offered a place to stay in his cottage if things ever got rough. When BigB couldn’t thank him enough, he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

On opposite sides of war, they were never meant to meet.

Looking back on it, BigB chuckles.

Tonight, he sits atop his enormous head that he dubs his house, perched high above acres of monochromatic trees. From this vantage point, BigB could see almost everything—from the Tuff Guys’ mineral structures towering in the distance,  to Joel’s car, sitting idle in the plains. Even the high stalks of bamboo surrounding Lizzie’s parrots come into view, their careful eyes watching over the server.

Sat next to him is Scott, dangled legs swinging carefully against the staccato-y breeze. His locs tickle Bigb’s where his head his rested against his shoulder, eyes closed as he hums a tune with no particular rhythm. BigB smiles.

Scott’s the only person who understands him, BigB thinks. He doesn’t mind his preference for listening to someone over speaking, nor disinterest for conversation. He doesn’t mind the silence.

When Scott first saw him—the real him, vines curling around his forearm and an unsettling amount of golden eyes scattered across his form, he didn’t find him unnerving, nor appalling. Instead, Scott gasped, face lighting up. “You’re gorgeous, B!”

So the next time when he saw Scott, BigB wasn’t entirely surprised to see his sweater embroidered with amber orbs, or the honey curl that bounced against his forehead.

“You two!” Pearl laughed, eyes darting between them, stood side-by-side as their bodies shook from laughter. “Attached at the hip, eh? At this point, you’re practically brothers!”

Brothers. The word rolled off his tongue with no problem.

BigB thought he would’ve been a person that kept to himself his entire life, that wasn’t until he met Scott.

That wasn’t until he met his brother.

[weirdthinkingdragon]

Obsession of Kamisatos

Can you guys imagine a friendly you coming to visit for a few weeks after Inazuma was opened to other places after the vision hun decree was over, and having the Kamisato siblings and their housekeeper grow obsessed?

You all can fight me on this (doubt it though because it’s most possible), but Thoma latches on quick. Obviously being the first to also meet you. Him somehow being able to show you a bit around Inazuma from having a bit of free time, and your little playful clips back at whatever he says already was enough to drag him into starting to be obsessed. 

Days go by and the two of you made it a thing to meet up at one point of his day he has free. it just gets worse and he starts slipping a few times around Ayaka and Ayato about you. 

That draws Ayaka’s attention, making her want to meet you. Because who in the world is making him even more naturally smiley and happy than he already was? 

At first it was rather awkward meeting her, but with the help of Thoma on both ends, you and Ayaka quickly become surprisingly good friends. 

It’s like 2 dogs seem to start following you around whenever possible. Lingering touches, especially on your lower back became very common with Thoma. Unfortunately for them, they do still have their responsibilities to take care of. You’ve caught some stares and glares, but nothing bad ever seems to really happen to you. One person who shoved you rather harshly while walking past once never seemed to be seen again. A rumor was they fled Inazuma for some sort of misconduct not accepted by the Kamisato clan. And no one questioned it. 

That leads to Ayato. He helped do it only because Ayaka was so adamant what that person did was wrong. He knows it isn’t the whole truth and eventually figures it out. That leads him into knowing he has to meet you. He has to make sure you’re not a threat to him or his sister. 

At first, Ayato was heavily guarded because usually such kind people around him had ulterior motives. That guard goes down though the more you seem confused of his sharp tongue that would be able to pick apart pretty much anyone guilty of something. 

He was still in the process of becoming obsessed when you told the three of them you’re leaving in a week. The panic in Thoma’s expression for a second was alarming even to you. 

The two try to lengthen your stay the next few days by even offering to let you stay with them, which weirds you out, but that’s fine. Maybe it’s just an Inazuma thing? after all, usually people who tried to leave didn’t exactly make it out. 

Their desperation slightly gets to Ayato, and he finally falls to the obsession when you awkwardly pat his shoulder when he was in a rather stressful situation. In the most bizarre way, it helped. But then he craved your touch. 

He starts having you be dragged everywhere, even to his meetings with Thoma not far behind. They have a mutual shared understanding of their obsession in that moment, and Ayaka wills it. She’s so happy there’s someone around now to make Ayato more truly happy, AND Thoma. Better yet, she knows they’re willing to share you! 

The day comes for you to leave, but you find out you can’t. Your travel documents have been denied? That makes you freak out. You’re sure they were fine before! After all, how else would you have gotten to Inazuma? 

Ayato and Thoma come up and say they have plenty of room with them until you can figure it out. They each carry a luggage of yours. Ayato on your left, carrying it in his left, and interlocking his right hand with your left hand. Thoma on your right and again having his arm on your lower back. 

little do you know just how... permanent the stay is to be.