#might be getting a bit too mentally ill on here

[shini--chan]

Do you mind If I can get Yandere Allies with a broken and heartless darling. All of the punishments the darling had to go through has left them a husk of their former self. It's to the point the darling won't speak to them, can't bear to look at them, and just flat out ignores them. And punishments won't do any good to make them change. Basically the boys didn't end up having the darling in the end, they lost the darling in a different way. I just want something angust and depressing to read 😗👉👈.

Angst is requested, angst is given.

Yandere Allies - Apathy

Trigger warnings: human experimentation, neglect, emotional abuse, suicidal ideation, depression

America would be distraught - not out of empathy for you, rather because broken toys are not human to play with. This would be paired with the need to be seen as good and righteous, and you being broken would have anything to do with that. If anything, it would reflect badly on his reputation. He might try fixing you, attempt to desperately breathe life back into you. There would be nothing that would be too brutal or absurd in his pursuit of that. It could range from blackmail to torture to surprise holiday trips to heavily indulging in one of your late hobbies. 

If any of that would work, then he would pat himself on the back for a job well done. The whole affair would be framed as fate and proper and the path to make you a better person. Should there be no betterment, then you would be consigned to being experimented on. Maybe that way he could find a source of your ills and extract it from you. In the case of making everything worse, then he would discard you because you would no longer be the person he'd have fallen “in love” with. 

Canada would actually leave you alone for a bit to see if you'd recover. The logic would be that your preservation instincts would kick in and thus you would drag yourself out of your depression. It would also be a further opportunity to see how you'd react to an unusual situation. Having to care for yourself might shake you out of your stupor. Should there be hints of recovery, then he would try to accelerate the whole thing by making life about surviving and not thriving. 

Stay broken, and he would re-enter your life and try best to continue as before. Should the period of neglect leave you in a squalid state, then he would clean you and nurse you back to health. While you would be broken, he wouldn't be all too worried, since it would mean that you'd no longer yearn for a life without him. Matthew would coddle you, treating you like a glass doll. Long walks and drawn out baths would become the norm. Maybe he'd even go on holiday with you, under the pretext of doing it for your health should anybody ask questions. 

China would scoff and roll his eyes. Life would continue as it had before, because he would label the whole matter as you trying to trick him into letting his guard down. There would even be times where he would be harsher than usual in an attempt to get you to snap out of the “farce” you'd be engaging in. It would take some time for the full reality of the situation to sink in, especially since he would refuse to see you as somebody that can break. Or to be more precise, he would deem the idea of you breaking under his tender mercies to be impossible. 

When it would finally sink in, then he would hastily revise his strategies. Both of you would move out into the countryside and he would put you to work in the fields or in another practical job. Here, he would hope that work would stimulate your mental faculties and give you some purpose, and thus return your will to live. Of course, he would be very wary should you suddenly make a 180 degree turn in demeanor. The spontaneous happiness would be rightly seen as a sign of suicidal ideation. Should that happen, then you would be placed under strict surveillance, and he would try various medical treatments on you. 

England wouldn't be all too worried and it might even be what he'd planned. You would be a masterpiece in the making, and if he'd have to break you down to piece you back together in order to obtain perfection, then so be it. Naturally, he would see it as a tragedy in its own right that you'd break before you'd bend, though he'd work with what he has. To Arthur, the real work would have only just begun. 

Slowly, he would try to piece you together again, just without all the irritating parts from before. If you would stay broken, then he would become frustrated; if you would try to escape him through death, then he'd become most irate. Your life would be his end or preserve and you wouldn't have any say in that. In the case of there being no betterment on your end, he would either “shelve” you or discard you. 

France would be very distraught about this development. Apathy would be a look that would suit you very badly, in his opinion. As such, he would beg you to snap out of it, would coddle in an effort to coax you back to life. Your favourite meals would be served, and he would read to you and wash you daily. Distraught love letters would be left on your pillow and he would try to cheer you up with grand romantic gestures. 

Should you suddenly become very happy and lively then before, then he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. Should you end your life, then he would be broken a bit himself. Of course, he would pick up the parts again and continue with his life. 

Russia would also not want to accept your situation at first either. It would be a trick, or you being dramatic and he would elect to wait you out. Surely you would see the futility of your theatrics and then resume a normal life. When the gravity of the situation would finally sink in, then he would jump into action. Fasting and lots of sport would come to dominate your life, and he would make you drink various herbal teas. 

Nursing you back to health would be a bonding exercise for him. Should he succeed, then he would constantly remind you that he held your life in his hands and treated it with great care. Since he was so tender with you when you were broken, he would argue that you should be more grateful towards him. Should he fail, then he'd drop you off at the monestary. 

[tkomptgoedluv]

revenge.

tear you apart pt.2

pt.1 here | pt.2

grumpycafeworkervampire! joost x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, internetcafe & vampire au, reader doesn’t know how to cope very well, joost’s heart is too big for his body, they’re both desperate to be the other one’s peace, so much hurt, possibly even more comfort, plenty of angst, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 8,489.

warnings: very detailed descriptions of blood and self harm, descriptions of an un-specific mental illness, semi-heavy stalking, breaking and entering, mentions of gore, brief mentions of violence + abuse, rpf.

notes: hello my lovelies <3 thank you so much for being so patient with this one! it’s not only the longest fic that i’ve ever written, but also genuinely my pride and absolute joy. i fear that i might not ever be able to top this one, actually, so please enjoy it! just keep in mind that this fic comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING.

also once again, a big big shoutout to my BABY @joosthead for putting up with me constantly asking her to check the doc every time that i added something. please go check out her work if you haven’t already — she’s got some mad shit coming 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

you never really were too good at knowing when to stop, were you?

it’s always been easy for you to get lost in it, lost in the feeling of your old razor blades carving line after line into your skin. once you started, you just had to keep going until you physically couldn’t. not until you’d get too dizzy to focus, until you just couldn’t quite keep your grip tight enough on the razor anymore.

you never learned how to cope any other way; since you were fifteen, it had been your default. cutting yourself up whenever you started to feel too much, or whenever levi would push you too far. as a kid, it was more of a punishment but with him, it was your way of controlling all the pain that you felt.

that’s why you’d done it again, why it’s been the only thing that you’ve managed to do over the past five days or so. you were trying to control things, trying to come to terms with what you had seen and all the big feelings that came right along with it.

you’d spent so long wishing him away — daydreaming of all the terrible things that could happen so you’d finally be free of him. you never actually thought that it would happen, though. that you’d witness your own boyfriend get ripped apart limb from limb; devoured as if he was nothing more than a piece of meat.

you hated that some sick and twisted part of you deep down, missed him. that you just couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he was gone now. and you hated that when it came to joost, you weren’t quite sure what you felt. for less than a fucking hour he’d been the closest thing to friend that you’d had in years, but then he’d gone and done that and —

blood dripped down from your wrists, the tops of your arms, and your thighs, and onto the dirty white tiles of your bathroom floor. you’d never gotten this carried away before, and you had made such a mess of it. all the cleaning up would have to be done tomorrow because right now you doubted that you’d even be able to stand.

at least you weren’t feeling quite so much anymore; only the stinging of each and every single one of the fresh cuts. it all hurt, but it was a better thing to feel than the guilt that had kept you confined inside the walls of your own home for so long. you couldn’t help but wonder if you would die here, alone and bleeding on your bathroom floor, or if the police would find you before you’d get the chance to.

you’ve seen bits and pieces of what his friends had been saying online— knew that they wanted to report levi as a missing person now. you wondered how long it would be before the police would come for you, either looking for him or his killer. then again, you weren’t actually sure if there was even a body left behind for them to find.

finally, after god knows how many, you put the razor blade down. it clattered against the linoleum and laid still in one of the few small pools of your own blood. honestly, you were a little proud of what you had done to yourself, even though it still felt like it wasn’t enough. 

in a daze, you just sat there quietly as the time passed, as the blood slowly began to dry. you weren’t entirely sure of the time but it had to have been late from how dark it was outside. your phone was somewhere in your flat, having died a while ago after you neglected to charge it for a few days, but it’s time probably would’ve read something like one or two o’clock in the morning.

no one had been by to check on you, not that you had expected them to, especially not at a time like this, so you jumped when you heard a knock at your front door. silence rang out as you waited, too afraid to move, until you finally heard another one. only then did you get up.

it was with wobbly legs that you limped your way out of the bathroom and through your hallway, your heart hammering away inside your chest. you tried to peer out through your front room windows as you hobbled over to the door, certain that you’d see flashing blue lights or the silhouette of a police officer waiting for you on your doorstep.

but as you opened your front door just an inch, barely wide enough to peak your head around outside, all you saw was nothing. no cars going past, no people wandering by, nothing.

for just a moment, you could have laughed. because this was it now, surely; your breaking point. all that guilt, all of that paranoia — it was finally driving you mad. 

the old hinges of your door squeaked as you went to close it again, turning on your heels as you did so. you glanced up as one of the floorboard creaked from behind you, the gloss in your eyes only slightly blurring the sight of him standing right there, somehow.

you went to scream, a high pitched, blood-curdling shriek right on the rip of your tongue when his hand came up to cup your mouth shut. he knocked you back into the door, slamming it shut as his entire body weight came down to have you pinned against it. you could feel just how hard he was shaking as he held you there, see how those big, panicked eyes of his were flickering between blue and red.

“no no no, please, please don’t scream. i’m not gonna hurt you.”

joost was frantic as he spoke, almost choking on each of his words, begging for you to keep quiet. no matter how desperately you were trying to fight against him, your nails clawing at his chest through his shirt as you fought to get him off of you, you weren’t going anywhere. the more that you struggled, the harder his grip on you got.

you had no way of knowing it yet, but this was killing him. seeing you so small like this, crying out, sobbing, against his hand as you used what little strength you had left to try and push him away — it was undoubtedly going to haunt him. 

he knew that he shouldn't be here, not really. he shouldn’t know where you live, shouldn’t have followed you home that one night a couple months ago. it was just that there had been an attack in your city that week; some poor girl found dead in an alleyway, all bloody and beaten, barely clothed. he’d already had your routine memorised by then, so he knew that you’d be making your way back from the cafe alone, in the middle of the night.

joost had just wanted to protect you, he’d just wanted to make sure that you weren’t about to become the next headline in the local newspaper. at least, that was what he had told himself as he’d stayed hidden away in the shadows, his head down low and hood pulled up as he’d ‘escorted’ you home without you ever knowing it.

sure, it had definitely crossed some lines, him sneaking out of the cafe’s back door after you’d left that night to follow you, but the alternative was worse, right?

that’s what all this came down to, really. his insatiable need to know that you were safe. because last week, you’d ran from him that night with marks on your arm that your boyfriend hadn’t been the one to put there. and you’d ran from him, no less, scared out of your mind at the mere sight of him as he’d stood there pleading with you to stay.

and joost couldn’t stand that.

everyone else could view him as a monster and treat him as such, but not you.

never you. 

that was the only reason why he’d ended up on your doorstep tonight. he needed to know that you were okay, that you were still alive, and that you understood that what he had done to levi, he would never, ever, do to you. 

it was never his plan to ‘invite’ himself in the way that he had. he was going to knock on your door and wait for you to answer it, and he was prepared to spend the rest of the night out there, reasoning with you to just hear him out if he had to. and if by the end of it all you were to still cast him out with the promise of never wanting to see him again, he’d find a way to live with it. just as long as you’d be okay; he’d live with it.

it was never his plan to get to the top of your street and already be able to smell it. the thick, sweet, iron-heavy smell of your blood already so strong that he was gagging by the time he made it to your doorstep. hunched over and heaving, he’d stumbled up to your front door, forcing himself to take deep, slow breaths through his mouth before finally knocking. it took everything in him, every little last bit of willpower, not to turn right then and there.

“lieverd, it’s okay. i promise it’s okay; i’m just here to talk. you…you don’t have to fight me.”

even as you were still thrashing, joost leant down to rest his forehead against yours. his eyes bore into yours as they continued to flash between the two different colours, a few tears of his own welling up behind his waterline. the last time that you were up this close, close enough to see the sweat shining on his temples, you were grasping onto his arm in such a feeble attempt to hide yourself from who you thought to be the only monster in the room.

the one whose blood you’d later seen dripping down from in between joost’s fingers, as he’d clutched onto his heart like a trophy.

he should be the real monster to you — a small part of you even wanted him to be. as terrible as levi truly was, he’d never bitten the head off of anyone, never ripped a heart straight out of someone’s chest. he was just…levi. he was your boyfriend and you hated him, but you never wanted him to die.

there was a bigger part inside of you, though, one that twisted up at the thought of joost being anything like one of the ‘bad guys’ from your old bedtime stories. because despite everything that you’d seen, despite how he’d found out where you lived, somehow, and now had you pinned up against your own front door with his hand holding your mouth shut, you knew that he wasn’t. he wasn’t evil, wasn’t dangerous like how your boyfriend had been, and you knew that. you just didn’t quite know it yet.

still, you began to relax. whether it was by choice or because you simply didn’t have any fight left in you anymore, you weren’t entirely sure. your whole body felt as though it was on fire from how several of your cuts had ripped open slightly from your struggle. small spots of blood started to seep through the thin, white cotton of your shorts as you almost went limp against joost; your eye-contact unbreaking. 

there was just something about the way in which he was looking at you. it was the exact same one he gave you that night last week, when he was desperately trying to convince you not to go back home to levi. his hands had been cupping each one of your cheeks, his warm breath fanning across your face as he panted. seeing that same look on him now, it was enough for you.

joost had felt you start to ease, had heard the fast beating of your heart start to slow. his grip on your mouth loosened as he gently wiped away the wet from your face with his free hand, tucking the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes.

“i’m gonna let you go now, okay? then we can talk?”

you nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes.

as he held back a breath, joost finally moved his hand away from your mouth and took a single step back — allowing you just enough space to stand up on your own. he still hadn’t looked away from your face, his eyes stuck on yours as he searched your features for any signs of fear, any signs that you were about to turn and run. 

but instead you seemed…calm. still very much in shock; your hands still very much trembling as you wrapped your arms around your middle. but you were calm enough to stand your ground and not shrink underneath his gaze. you didn’t flinch when both of his hands came up to cup either side of your jaw, the pads of his thumbs caressing along the skin.

“are-are you okay? i’ve not seen you in…i thought that maybe you had…”

he couldn’t quite find it in him to finish his sentence. it wasn’t like he needed to, you already knew exactly what he was talking about, and now it all started to make sense. 

that look in his eyes, the way his voice kept shaking every time that he spoke. he was here because he was scared, terrified even, that you’d done something to yourself. that night you’d told him, more rather shown him your secret so he knew what you were capable of now, and it had been driving him mad ever since you disappeared.

you hadn’t needed to say anything; the way you suddenly pulled yourself away from him had said enough. in all of the chaos he hadn’t thought to simply look down. if he had, he would have seen all the damage you’ve already done; every single one of the fresh cuts that you’ve given yourself tonight and all of the ones from the nights before. the old vest top and pyjama shorts that you were wearing weren’t hiding anything — from your shoulders down to your shins, he could see everything now that he had finally dropped his gaze.

with his head down, you couldn’t see his face but you could feel the way he tensed up. you could hear him sniff, cough, and swallow down the bile that was rising up in his throat as he stumbled back a few steps.

you were still bleeding. 

it was making his teeth ache.

neither of you said anything for a while. you stood frozen by the door, your arms still wrapped around yourself as he just stared blankly at you with tears running down his cheeks. 

he felt sick; sickened by the very thing he’d been so afraid of now staring at him right back in the face. he couldn’t stand the sight of it but couldn’t bring himself to look away, either — there was just so much red. long, neat lines of red that covered you almost completely from head to toe; no patch of skin left unmarked. it was vile, it was abhorrent, it was breaking his heart.

“why?”

that was all joost could muster. a pathetic, broken question as he tried so desperately to pull himself back together. 

“i…i don’t know.” you paused only to wipe your teary eyes on the back of your hand. “i never know what else to do when i feel like this; it’s just been hard, joost -”

you trailed off, quickly losing your train of thought when you heard him sob all of a sudden. you hadn’t seen him start to crack because you’d been staring down at your feet, suddenly feeling too shy to meet his eyes. except now he was the one trying to hide, his arm coming up to cover his face as he cried hard enough to make his shoulders bounce.

he repeated ‘i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.’ like a mantra in between shallow gasps of breath and hiccups.

he was blaming himself for this because how could he not? all those cuts along your skin; you might have been the one behind the blade but he had been the one to do it. he’d been the one to scar you like this. that one irreversible act of his that he prayed would keep you safe had pushed you to an edge that he feared he wouldn’t be able to pull you back from. 

it wasn’t even his responsibility to, not really. he didn’t know you and you didn’t know him, either. still, he found himself loving you in a way that didn’t make any sense. 

and you loved him too, didn’t you? in a way that you couldn’t quite wrap your head around because of course you did. you proved that to both yourself and to him by how you finally moved from your spot by the door just so you could take his hands and pry his arms away from his face. you let him engulf you, cradling you close to his chest as he cried into your shoulder because you knew that he needed it.

you didn’t know who he was or even what he was, but you knew that he wasn’t something to truly fear. deep down you knew that you loved him in such an awfully twisted way, and you knew that he needed to feel you just to know that you weren’t going anywhere. 

joost was still spilling out his apologies as you tried so hard to soothe him. you felt him shiver under your touch when you let your hands slip underneath the hem of his t-shirt to rub the hot skin of his sides, your soft little whispered assurances filling his ear. 

it wasn’t his fault, nor was it levi’s or anyone else’s. you were like this long before he’d ever set his eyes on you and a part of you had already accepted that you always will be. the very last thing that you wanted was for it to be a burden someone else had to carry, let alone somebody like joost.

“you didn’t do this, okay? it’s alright. i’m gonna be alright.”

maybe it was cruel of you to try and calm him with words that even you didn’t fully believe in. what you had done to yourself only an hour ago, only you would ever be to blame for it, but you didn’t know if you were going to be alright in the end. you were still a witness to what he’d done and you were still doomed to live with the guilt of that.

“you don’t need to apologise for what i’ve done; you know that this is what i do. it’s not your fault.”

“but i fucked up, lieverd.”  joost shuddered as he sucked in a sharp breath, sniffing. “i fucked up and i did this to you; you did it because of me.”

you hushed him, carefully stepping back just enough so that you had the room to cradle either side of his neck in your hands, urging him to look back at you. as soon as he did, you could see that his eyes were back to being just their usual sweet blue, nothing else.

“i did it because i was scared, joost. i didn’t know what else to do.”

“what, scared of me?”

his question was more like a punch to the gut than anything else. for just a moment it knocked the air out of you; left you winded and with no idea on how to go about answering it. truthfully, the answer was yes, but also no, because it was never actually him that you were so afraid of.

you were just afraid of what he did; what you know joost is truly capable of now. you were afraid of the part of you that was almost relieved to see levi suffer what he did, knowing that it meant that he wouldn’t be able to hurt you anymore. but again, you never wanted him to die. you never wanted to see him get torn apart, piece by piece.

joost whimpered out your name when you didn’t answer and instead just stood there with your mouth slightly agape. your lack of an actual, verbal answer was an answer in itself, really, and he knew that; knew that you were probably just too scared and too kind to tell him the truth. still he needed to hear you say it though, purely for his own sake, he needed to hear you say that he wasn’t just another monster to you.

but the longer that he waited, the weaker his knees started to feel. he kind of fell into you, in a way, burying his face deeper into the crook of your neck as your arms came up to hold him against you. his hot tears ran down your skin and pooled together in the dip of your collarbone and it was right then that your own eyes started to burn. 

slipping out from his grasp, you wordlessly led him by the hand over to your sofa. you watched him collapse onto it as you took a seat next to him, his elbows rested on his knees as his head hung low in between them. his shoulders were still shaking and you could still hear each of the muffled cries that were spilling from his lips.

“please, please, believe me, lieverd. what i did…i never wanted it to hurt you. i’m so sorry.”

you curled yourself into a tight little ball and let out a long, deep breath, one that you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. you had questions; so, so many questions that had been festering, growing like mould in the back of your head. and joost could almost feel you holding them back as he looked up at you with such watery eyes, the only red in them being the sore, puffy rings around them.

“ask me anything, whatever you wanna know.”

“why did you do it?”

there was no emotion in your voice and you kept your face blank as you spoke — it was only the slight quiver of your bottom lip that gave you away.

“he was going to hurt you, schatje.” 

“but how…how were you even…?”

it had happened decades ago, back when internet cafes were still just your average libraries and when only the rich could afford to have their own mobile phones. 

joost had been young, living off the high of infamy and adoration that came with being in one of the best punk bands in the scene at the time. him and his friends, they’d been something of local legends; for good and for bad, it just depended on who you asked. those that loved them deemed them god-like in their old denim and rusted chains, and those that hated them, simply feared them.

he’s not proud of it, how they spent day after day rotting away in a garage, doing whatever drugs they could get their hands on and writing songs just to spend night after night playing shows at only the worst bars they could find. how they’d get even more off their faces afterwards and start fights, smashing up the venues and spray-painting anarchy symbols anywhere and everywhere that they could. how if the night didn’t end with them running away from the cops then it would end with them in the bed of anything with a pretty face, two legs, and a heartbeat.

and then what was supposed to be the best night of the band’s life, the biggest show they’d ever played to a crowd that already knew all the words to their songs, became nothing more than the beginning of the end. it’d happened after they’d all really outdone themselves, whilst those so-called ‘friends’ of his that only ever brought out the worst of him were all passed out somewhere, and joost had decided to go out for a little wander. 

still to this day, he can’t remember the face of who had jumped him. the alleyway had been too dark and he’d been too drunk to even know where he was, so all that truly stuck with him was the agony of it all. the searing pain of a pair of fangs plunging deep into the side of his neck, the gradual, stinging cold he’d felt as the life was almost all but drained from him. whoever it was, they’d left him there to die afterwards — still to this day, a part of him wishes that he had. 

waking up that next morning something so much worse than human, consumed by an appetite so uncontrollable that he just couldn’t help himself when he came across that lone jogger whilst on his way back to his friends. surely it had to have been worse than death. he’d torn that poor guy to shreds as if it was nothing, as if he was just pulling chicken off the bone. 

but he hadn’t stopped there, had he? he couldn’t, he didn’t know how to. even after he’d shown up on his drummer’s doorstep covered in blood and crying his eyes out, he had to keep going, keep feeding. because joost wasn’t too good at knowing when to stop, either, was he?

it had taken him years to figure it out, actually. years of mindless, reckless slaughter to realise that he actually hated what he was now, and that his ‘friends’ weren’t ever really his friends. from the moment he’d shown up that day, all stained red and babbling about the man he’d just killed, the band played him like a puppet simply because they knew that they could.

regardless of the change, he was still joost. they knew that it really wouldn’t take much to get inside of his head, to spin whatever that had happened to him into something almost profitable for them all. and it hadn’t, because everything they had him do was always ‘for the band’, so really, how could he have said no? 

besides, he would have been lying if he’d said he hadn’t come to enjoy it, after a while. seeing the life drain from their eyes as they’d beg for mercy, pleading with him, promising him that they’d do whatever he wanted if he’d just let them go. he’d always laugh then, before sinking his teeth into their throats. 

and it helped that these people also happened to be nobodies, too. from shitty bar owners that wouldn’t let them play to members of a rival band that had just gotten a little too cocky for their own good. no one ever missed them, most hardly noticed that they were gone.

joost was never a monster to them, to the band, just an over-glamorised attack dog that could do a lot more than just bite.

it had taken him far too many years to realise it.

“that’s how i ended up with the cafe…i wanted to get away; i didn’t want to be like that anymore.” he paused only to gauge your reaction, or more so your lack of one. you hadn’t said a word the entire time, hadn’t flinched or pulled a face; you had barely even blinked. 

“what did you do with the body?…his body?”

the sudden sound of your voice, it made him glance back up at you with a small quiver in his lip. you were still staring blankly at the wall ahead, your expression borderline unreadable, but your words hadn’t cracked and your hands weren’t shaking anymore, either.

“i know some people that are…like me; they handled it.” when you fell quiet again, joost continued, wiping the snot from his nose as he did so. “i’ve done a lot of bad things, lieverd. what i did to levi, fuck, that’s not even the worst of it. you should be scared of me; i’m scared of me.”

“i’m not.” 

“why?”

“because if you were still the monster that you think you are, i wouldn’t have even made it halfway out the door that night.” 

after only another moment or two of silence had passed did you finally look down to meet his eyes again. whilst there was a shine in yours that definitely matched his own, there was something so soft about the way you were gazing at him. it made the muscles beneath his shoulders relax and drop down as he breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.

you didn’t need to elaborate any further, didn’t need to say anything else to prove to him that you knew he wasn’t that person anymore. he could tell simply from the hint of a smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth. from how it was with careful, delicate movements that you moved to crawl onto his lap and hugged him, nuzzling your face into the curve of his neck.

the large, warm palms of joost’s hands slid underneath the cotton of your tank top and soothed the cool skin of your spine as he rested his head against yours. instead of asking how you were even real, how someone so undeniably good was able to look past each and every single one of his sins, he kept quiet to let the last few tears of his fall.

but if he had in fact asked, then you would’ve told him that truly, you couldn’t hold any of it against him. 

of course it was all awful, from the countless faces he’d torn apart to the people that he terrorised even before the change. your skin had been crawling as joost had spoken and you just couldn’t ignore the fact that anyone else in your position probably would’ve taken off running by now. that, and that they’d have every right to.

except you weren’t just anyone, were you? as far as you were concerned, those old so-called ‘friends’ of his were the real monsters, because you of all people knew what it was like to be hurt by those you trusted most. to have someone so deep inside your mind that you quickly became blind to everything else. you couldn’t hold it against him because in your heart, you got it. you could feel that, that wasn’t who joost was anymore.

“can you stay tonight? for a little while?”

you felt his hands trail down to the side of your hips and squeeze as you pulled away just enough to see his face, your own two hands falling down to rest against his stomach.

“i’ll stay for as long as you want me to, schatje. i’m here.” 

being on the brink of almost giddiness as you nodded, that small smile of yours twisting up into an almost grin, you hadn’t realised how his fingers were starting to roam. that his hands were gently moving around, rubbing up and down the flesh of your waist until they reached the very front of your hips. 

you hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been able to take hold of his wrists to stop him before the soft pads of his thumbs could find the aching, bumpy lines of the cuts you’d put there a few days ago. as you froze, you watched his own sweet smile drop and his eyebrows furrow, and felt him slowly lift up the hem of your top just enough to see the true extent of it.

even in the low light of your living room, even if his eyesight wasn’t as unnaturally good as it was, he still wouldn’t have been able to miss it. just like the rest of you was, the tight skin of your stomach and all the way across to your hips were marked with the same harsh, red gashes. most were scabbed over but a couple were sprouting fresh drops of blood from where you’d been moving around so much, pulling them apart at the seams.

you went to stand and then tried to simply twist yourself away when you couldn’t, but even then joost’s hold on you was too strong. his touches were feather-soft as he traced the tips of his fingers along every single one, following them down to the ones on your things and then back up along the ones on your arms. by the time that he reached your eyes again they were already scrunched up closed, hiding from him.

“because of me.”

it was more of a statement than a question, partly because he already knew the answer, and partly because he knew that you’d still deny it if he asked.

“joost -”

“- you have a first aid kid somewhere, right? lemme help.”

you shook your head as you went to tug your vest top back down, only to freeze when you finally caught a glimpse of all the little spots of blood that had seeped through your clothes. you stopped and stared at them for longer than you meant to, your hands trembling as you toyed with the material between your fingers. 

the blood was always your favourite part. how it would slowly peek through the small breaks in your skin before oozing out, running down your body until the drops would fall and hit the floor. it had a way of hypnotising you every single time, making you want to keep going and going just so you could see it happen over again and again. even now, when the tiny red polka dots were nothing more than just a few sticky stains on your top, turning the tips of your fingers a deep pink.

it took joost gently prying your hands away for you to snap out of it. 

“n-no, no, i can’t let you do that. it wouldn’t be fair, not when there’s so much blood and you’re…”

“i’ll be fine, lieverd, i promise.”  you felt him give your hands a soft squeeze as he paused, “let me help you.”

there was no point in trying to change his mind. once you lifted your head back up and saw how those big blue eyes of his were staring back at you, the smudged, dark makeup around them making them seem so might brighter, you no longer had the heart to tell him no again. he could have asked anything of you, and you would’ve said yes.

“it’s in the bathroom.”

without warning, joost moved to grip the backs of each of your thighs and stood up, smiling when you squealed as you wrapped your arms and legs around him. it baffled you for a moment how it seemed as though he already knew where to go, that he already knew that your bathroom was all the way down the hall, last door on the left. you chalked his strong sense of direction up to it just being another one of the many perks that came along with being…well, him.

and whilst that was true, maybe it wasn’t the only reason why he specifically knew the layout of your home already. maybe he’s escorted you home more than just the once, twice, three times. maybe this wasn’t actually his first time walking down your hallway at all. 

the cold of your bathroom counter underneath you made you jump slightly as joost carefully set you down on it. you’d left the light on from when you were in here earlier; your razor still laying discarded on the floor, coated in a drying layer of your own blood. you hadn’t even thought he’d seen it until he was picking it up and tossing it in the bin as if it was just a piece of rubbish that he’d dropped. 

neither of you were saying anything. joost had fallen uncharacteristically quiet, breathing somewhat heavily through his mouth as he dug through your cabinets until he finally found that little green box with the red cross on on the front. his hands were shaking as he opened it, pulling out the countless packets of alcohol wipes and plasters, dropping a few things as he did so.

had you been paying more attention, then you would’ve noticed that actually, this was taking quite the toll on him. but you couldn’t shift your eyes away from the bin, the one that now contained the very last one of your razor blades amongst a small collection of used tissues and tampon wrappers. joost had thrown away your last one, and now you had none.

“okay, i’m sorry if this stings, schat. let me know if you need me to stop, okay?”

it was as you were nodding that you suddenly hissed, your leg jolting from the pain of the alcohol wipe joost had used to clean the first of the cuts on your upper thigh. on instinct you tried to pull away, fighting against the grip that he held on you to keep your leg still against the counter.

you weren’t expecting it to hurt as much as it did. considering how many times that you’ve been here before, cleaning yourself up because you didn’t always have someone around that cared enough to want to do it for you, you thought you would have been used to it by now. you never would have guessed that it would have you in near tears all over again, gripping the edge of the bathroom counter until your knuckles slowly started to turn white. 

maybe this was just the price you had to pay for going a little deeper than you meant to. 

“hey, do you think you could just…i don’t know, talk, for a while? tell me something about yourself?” at the look of confusion on your face joost just smiled, raising his hands a little to show you just how hard they were shaking. “it’ll help me concentrate.”

he was struggling more than he thought he’d be.

except how could he not be? this was a lot for him. all that blood of yours smeared and stained across his fingers aside, simply just being this close to you was enough to somehow make him feel lightheaded. feeling your knees on either side of his thighs as he stood in between your legs, so close to you in fact that he could hear your heartbeat louder than anything else. 

he just needed to hear your voice, needed something else to focus on besides your blood that now laid underneath his fingernails.

“oh shit, uh, okay….um…”

you weren’t sure why you started to chuckle, almost, stumbling over these noises that barely even resembled words. you wanted to come up with something to talk about fast, to help get joost’s mind off of what he was actually doing, but the harder you thought the quicker your mind went blank. nobody’s ever really asked you to talk about yourself before; you had no idea what to say.

there wasn’t a whole lot to say, really. you used to have interests; hobbies that you used to put your heart and soul into, dreams that you were so determined to make a reality for yourself. levi had, had other plans for you, though. either, he would simply take up too much of your time, or he’d be so insistent that those hobbies of yours were ‘pointless’, that eventually you grew to lose interest in them. since day one of the relationship, everything about you had to be about him.

you used to think that it was probably for the best, that maybe he was right and you really were just wasting your time. but now that he’s gone for good, and you’re stuck with someone in front of you that genuinely wants to get to know you, you realise now that there’s nothing for you to tell them. there’s nothing of who you used to be left.

joost gave your knee a quick squeeze before turning his attention onto your arms, having slowly picked up on the fact that once again, your lack of an answer told him far more than you wanted it to. 

“okay, let’s start with the easy stuff — what did you want to be when you were growing up?”

“i wanted to be a painter.”

you hissed again at the burn of one of the alcohol wipes against your skin; smiling softly when he reassured you of just how brave you were being.

“a painter? that’s sick! did that happen?”

“almost. i went to school for it, got a degree and everything, but uh, levi always said that it’s not a ‘real job’ so…”

joost’s frown was immediate. he was shaking his head, the lines in his forehead already so prominent. “did you really give it all up because of that? that’s bullshit.” 

“i didn’t really have much of a choice, joostie.”

you both fell quiet again after that.

he felt horrible for reacting like that, fearing that you mistook all of his anger towards levi and each of the silly little ideas that the guy had planted in your head to be aimed at you. you’d sounded so defeated as your shoulders slumped, your voice falling to a near-whisper as you moved your gaze onto the floor. of course you didn’t have a choice; that much should’ve already been obvious. 

and it was the look on your face now that was hurting him the most. a look of mourning as you pondered the life that you almost had, had it not been for that asshole and the hold that he’d once had over you. as joost wiped another cut clean, he regretted for just a moment not going back for seconds that night — it would’ve been the least that levi deserved.

“what kind of art did you do?”

that brought something of a smile back to your face as your mind drifted back to all of the scrapbooks you had hidden underneath your bed. old, dust-covered notebooks filled to the brim with page after page of everything from doodles to full-fledged paintings. your bottom lip wobbled when you thought of all the canvases though, the same ones you once watched levi destroy one night just because he’d wanted to see you cry after a fight.

“everything — oil paint, acrylics, watercolour. i really loved chalk, though. seeing all the stains it would leave behind made it feel like it meant something more, you know? like i was really creating something.”

a gentle grin curled the corners of your mouth up as you spoke, beginning to ramble so passionately about what you loved that joost really did almost forget what he was doing. he had to stop for a second just so that he could witness that smile of yours, see that gleam in your eyes that he’d once had himself back when he was just kid writing songs in his bedroom. in a blink of an eye, you had suddenly become so alive and it had him floored.

it had him captivated, actually; irrevocably wrapped around your finger.

his hands weren’t shaking so much anymore.

“i have a friend that’s a painter; he mainly does the oil stuff, i think, but maybe i could introduce the two of you one day? he’ll probably have some chalk laying around somewhere.”

“is he…?”

“no, he’s not like me. can i lift your shirt up a little bit? we’re almost done, i’ve just got to get the last ones.”

you nodded, wondering how it was that his skin felt so warm against yours, all things considered.

“it wouldn’t have mattered to me if he was.”

joost knew that you were telling the truth, could hear it in the way that your heartbeat kept its rhythm. 

and the conversation continued to flow as joost patched up the last few cuts of yours, sticking little hello kitty plasters delicately across your hip bones. he told you all about this oil-painter friend of his, ‘daan’ — how he’d been the first genuine friend that joost had made after the change, how he never would’ve been able to get away from the band if it wasn’t for him.

joost even opened up to you about his family, his parents. even after so many years, you still had to help him breathe through it as he told you their story with tears all in his eyes. it was only fair that you did the same after that; he almost couldn’t believe it when you’d said you'd lost your parents when you were younger too, spent some time in the system just as he had. after all, that was how you met levi. 

and he told you all about another friend of his, ‘lenny’, how it’s because of her that he likes foreign graphic novels so much. whenever he’s not reading those porn mags that he swears he only picks up for the articles, he’s reading and then re-reading her old japanese comic books. you were never much of a comic book kid yourself, having always preferred to lose yourself inside the pages of a stephen king or a neil gaiman instead, so you promised to read ‘death note’ if joost read ‘the shining’.

by the time that he was pulling your shirt back down and chucking away all of the used, bloodied wipes that had accumulated, you were fighting to keep your eyes open. joost could tell that he was losing you just from the way that you kept swaying from side to side and nodding your head slightly even when he hadn’t asked you a question. it made his heart ache, knowing that you were so, so exhausted but still so unwilling to sleep because you wanted to keep the conversation going.

he hadn’t told you his favourite colour yet.

“cmon you, i think it's bedtime.”

you were yawning before you could argue, letting your head fall back against the cabinet behind you. the thought of your bed was undeniably heavenly; the feeling of your mattress dipping below your weight as you curl yourself into a ball beneath your blankets. the only problem was that you were just as comfy here as you would be over there, though, perched on the edge of your bathroom countertop with joost still standing in between your legs, his hands resting on each of your thighs.

this bubble you had created with him — it wasn’t one you were ready to leave quite just yet. there was still that fear of waking up alone again lurking in the back of your mind.

and it was before you could argue that joost was also scooping you up again, holding you up by the backs of your thighs as he began to carry you back down the hall. you let your head fall to rest against his shoulder, your arms draped loosely around his neck. if it wasn’t for that fear of yours twisting your insides and rotting your brain from the inside out, you could have fallen asleep right there. 

you probably would have.

“you’re gonna stay with me, right?”

joost glanced down at the top of your head with a crease in his eyebrows, carefully nudging your bedroom door open with his foot. “i already told you, lieverd, i’m not going anywhere. i promise.”

“no, i know that. i just mean -” you paused when he gently set you down just beside your bed, only stepping away to turn on the light until you made a sudden, desperate reach for his wrist. 

when the warm glow of the lamp flooded the room, you could see that he wasn’t smiling anymore. instead there was worry in his eyes as he took that step back closer to you again, his hands coming up to tuck loose strands of hair behind your ears.

“what’s wrong?”

“- i meant that you’re not gonna exile yourself to the sofa or anything, right? you’ll stay with me?”

it finally clicked in his head what you were asking. 

and it definitely felt like a lot to be asking of him, again all things considered. you just couldn’t do it though, you couldn’t handle the idea of being by yourself anymore. it was why you always stayed in the end, with levi, why a part of you couldn’t help but miss him. his presence would be chilling but his side of the bed would always be warm when you would wake up in the mornings. 

you didn’t want to start crying when you felt as though it was taking joost too long to answer. you didn’t want to guilt trip him like that, make him feel as though he had to even if he didn’t want to. but it was just another thing that you couldn’t help, because you were so tired and so afraid that you just didn’t know what else to do besides sit down and cry.

he copied you by sinking down into a squat, placing both of his hands onto each one of your knees. since you kept your eyes focused on the ceiling, trying and failing at trying to blink away your tears as you hiccuped, it was from the corners of your sight that you saw joost reach up to wipe them away himself. the pads of his thumbs stroked along the skin of your cheekbone and lingered there for a moment or two before he spoke.

“can you look at me, schatje?”

you did so almost reluctantly.

“i’m not going anywhere, alright? i’m not gonna leave you.”

nodding as you sniffled, you kept your eyes locked with his as you crawled back onto your bed and pulled back the covers. neither of you said anything nor dared to look away from the other as joost kicked off his shoes and undid the clasp of his watch, slipping it off of his wrist to leave it on your bedside table. 

that was all he did before he climbed into bed with you, still dressed in the same hoodie and sweatpants that he’s had on all night. you let his arms wrap around you and tug you up into his chest as you grabbed onto fistfalls of his sweatshirt, trusting that he meant it when he said he’d stay with you but still feeling too afraid to let go. 

more tears began to fall from your eyes, your shoulders wracking against him as you cried. soft, gentle circles were drawn anywhere on your skin that he could reach; your shoulders, your hips, your sides, and he murmured sweet little assurances into your ear.

“i mean it, okay? i’ve got you. i’m right here.”

it was with your whole heart that you believed him. with your tears slowly soaking through the cotton of his jumper, you believed that he’ll still be here when you wake up, all curled up with you with his hand still rubbing up and down your back. 

“i’m here.”

[finniestoncrane]

🩷 Connie (OC) x Riddler x Boomerang, multi-part fic 🩷 constance dorothea drum (connie/conundrum) is my sorta self-insert OC who i like to put into situations!! i'm finally getting around to writing out her backstory and her love triangle and it is filled with fluff and angst and good old smut based in the arkham!verse in terms of character/place design, but divergent as far as the timeline goes fic masterlist • AO3 link • tag: auc fic • plushie doodles by @/march-harrigan

💚 Chapter 2: Perfect Timing, word count: 2.8k 💚 10 years ago: connie and harley spend an agonising day in the library trying to solve connie's thesis problems. luckily, she comes up with the perfect topic, one that ends up grabbing her attention in more ways than one. request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: we finally see how mentally ill connie is for eddie, even at these early stages of her career, and there's a bit more harley and connie friendship to absorb because they're cute ok

“I’m really cutting it close now, Harley. My meeting with the advisor is in ten minutes, and if I don’t take an actual concrete idea to my supervisor today, then I might as well drop out now.”

Of course, Connie could be as vocal about how stressed she was all that she wanted, but she was also very aware that it was her own fault for leaving things so late. She was one for getting distracted, unable to start things, unable to keep her mind focused on one train of thought. Undiagnosed ADHD, that’s what Harley had said while she was practising her clinical work on her, although how much of that was truthful could be argued, given Harley was studying psychology and not psychiatry. Whatever was wrong with her, though, she had to try and overcome it or all of her years of study so far at Gotham State would all be for nothing. 

“Bubby, I don’t know what you want me to say. We’ve been trying to come up with a topic for your thesis for… years now. Literally years. You just gotta pick one from the pile of rejects and go with it, that’s what I think!”

“But I want to believe in my idea! I want it to be something I can write about confidently, passionately. I want a good grade.”

Harley tossed the book she was absent-mindedly reading to the ground, kicking her legs up on the table and leaning back with a sigh that turned into a groan before she spoke.

“What does it matter anyway, really? All of this studying? I mean, have you ever thought about how many criminals lately have doctorate degrees? Real life actual doctors, people who studied their tight little asses off like you’re trying to right now, driven eventually to a life of crime. Good grade or not, if you really think about it, we’re just here studying to end up as Batman and the GCPDs punching bags.”

“Huh… you’re right…”

“I am!?” Harley sat up straight like a dog hearing their favourite word, grinning wide at Connie’s agreement. “So does that mean we can blow this dump and go to the pier?”

With an expression of disappointment, Connie raised her eyebrows, exasperatedly dropping her hands to the table as she renewed her patience for Harley before bursting her bubble.

“No. I mean that you’re right about the doctorates. The list must be pretty long. Let me think… you’ve got… Oh, Freeze, he was a doctor, wasn’t he?”

“Oh yeah, he was a babe, too.”

“Another one… Langstrom!”

“Babe.”

“Sartorius.”

“Babe.”

“Hellfern!”

“Spooky babe!”

“And Isley, of course.”

“ Super babe.”

“All of them, intelligent people with ambitions and passion, driven to criminality because of… what? There must be some relation to super intelligence, a correlation between super intellect and… maybe a lack of stimulation? Or perhaps they have a greater understanding of the unfairness of society? A clinical mind that can compartmentalise morals in the name of the greater good of humanity of science? Looking for an outlet of their genius? And just a little sprinkling of autism?”

“Well, you would be the expert there.”

“I would… But I’m still not sure what it is that definitively pushes them…”

“Maybe you find out when you study it for your thesis then? You ask the question, you find some evidence. Sounds like as good an idea as any of the others we’ve talked and talked and talked and talked about.”

“Hmm… Yeah, I think I like it!”

“So now can we get out of here? I hate the library. It’s too quiet! Which really tests my need for chaos .”

“It’s not exactly quiet when you’re in here.” Connie shoved Harley’s arm playfully, watching as she very intentionally, and very dramatically, fell to the ground with a ridiculous groan. “Ok, ok, I have my meeting in five minutes and then once I’m done we can leave. Wish me luck!”

Harley offered a smile and a salute, her way of sending positive vibes to Connie as she left for her meeting, but she really didn’t need any luck or good will at all. When she posed the question to her advisor, he had smiled knowingly, satisfied with the proposal and definitely intrigued by it. And that was despite her unprepared stammering and lack of any preliminary research to accompany it. She assumed the enthusiasm would bode well for her once she actually got to the meat of the project. 

“There’s just one thing, though…” he had said, smoothing his fingers over the stubble on his chin, a self-satisfactory move from the proclaimed intellectual, who Connie hoped would soon enter his own criminal phase and be swiftly beaten to a bloody pulp. “Do you intend to only focus on those with doctorates? Or would you be interested in intelligence which hasn’t been professionally recognised, so to speak?”

Connie tilted her head slightly, trying to understand the question.

“Do you mean like… Emotional or social intelligence? Like how Roman Sionis seems to be able to charm or threaten his way out of, well, literally everything and anything?”

“No, no. God no. We’d be here forever discussing that kind of thing. I mean, every criminal must have an ounce of charisma or muscle to back up their actions. No, I mean those who might not necessarily have a professional title, or even a formal education, but who still exhibit, or present themselves as having, the same level of intelligence as your aforementioned doctorates. Perhaps there might be some who are even smarter?”

“Like?”

“Well, I’m thinking of people like Jervis Tetch, the Mad Hatter as he was perhaps better known. Incredibly intelligent man, talented in so many different skills, but not necessarily renowned for his intellect, and I’m sure he will have a degree, but not necessarily an academic ranking.”

“Hm, interesting.”

“Or take, for instance, Garfield Lynns. Are you familiar?”

“That’s Firefly, no?”

“Indeed. He worked with highly dangerous chemicals for a living, and for fun. Pyrotechnic work, bombs, explosives. Jobs which require an advanced degree of training and study and knowledge, but don't necessarily need a doctorate. And his engineering skills were admirable too, even if they were being put towards his criminal activities.”

“Oh! Or Bane!”

“Precisely! His work with chemicals and the study of his own sickness and addiction are fascinating on their own, even putting aside the fact that he had no formal teaching during his upbringing in prison. I’d kill to take a look at his research. Someone like him would make an excellent case study! That’s what I’m talking about, people like that. There’s always a modicum of intelligence behind being a successful criminal. The stupider ones get caught far too quickly. To last a while, to be a pain to the criminal justice system, you have to be able to outsmart it.”

Connie nodded, her eyes wide with excitement as she felt the inspiration flowing through her, her advisor continuing to lecture on the point which he wished he was making under his own name. 

“Of course, bring up the doctorates too. Bring up as many examples as you can. But I would advise you to have one star of the show, as it were. Just something to focus the research on. An example that can relate to all the examples. Got it?”

Connie left the room feeling lighter than she had in months. Although the last thing her advisor had said did cling to her chest, a little nugget of anxiety in itself. Sure, she had the plan, but now she needed a star to pull everything together. Someone to focus on, someone interesting, appealing, intelligent and an example of criminality. Someone, preferably, without a professional title since that felt like an interesting angle to her. As she pondered, deep in thought, she could make out Harley ahead of her. She was face down at one of the tables at the end of the shelves of books, impatiently waiting to leave the library and forget about her studies for a moment, the complete opposite attitude from Connie. 

That was understandable, Connie thought. She was planning on getting her masters in Library Science, finishing her degree in Psychology this year without the intention of becoming a doctor or a researcher or a therapist or a professor. Those seemed far too daunting to her, she’d realised in her studies. It was too much for her to have that kind of responsibility, she had learned. She was far too gentle, far too manipulatable. She was leaving all of that to Harley, who was the kind of person that Connie was certain could speak to a criminal and not be afraid, and definitely not be sucked in and swayed by their charms. So for Connie, there were only two and a half more years to go of the relentless essays and exams and presentations. For Harley, it could take anywhere between six and nine, and that was if she could sit still for long enough to actually apply herself. She was intelligent enough, but she was so easily distracted, always in need of excitement, of something new. So regular breaks were a necessity. But Connie just couldn’t commit to that today. 

“So? How did it go? We off the hook for the day?”

“It went great, actually. He liked the idea a lot, and he gave me some really good notes too.”

“Then why do ya look like he told you he slept with your grandmother and now he’s getting your share of the inheritance?”

“... Because I can’t come out with you.”

“Aw, c’mon, Bubby, I-”

“I know, I know. But I really need to get started on this. I’m so sorry! I just really need to find someone to be the focal point of this stupid thesis and then find my bearings with it. I am really sorry, Harls.”

“Urgh…” Harley tossed her head back, her flexibility pushed as she seemed to completely curl backwards on herself before springing back to attention. “Fine! But you owe me, Bubby! I just wanna get out of here more than anything else, so you’re lucky! Have fun finding the perfect criminal. I would suggest checking today’s paper if you want a head start!”

The last part she spoke in a sing-songy voice before picking up her backpack and heading out, keychains jingling, flipping her fingers up to Connie on her way out, followed by her usual call of “LOVE YA!” and then she disappeared from sight. It was odd of her to mention the newspaper, given how unlikely it was for her to actually sit down and read one. “She must have been really bored…” Connie thought, as she settled herself down at the table and picked up the paper. The edges had been torn, some of the articles outlined in doodles of love hearts and smiley faces, all the work of Harley’s nervous, fidgeting fingers. But it was easy to look past them to the particular article of interest. 

“Oh… Oh!”

As Connie read the article, pieces of the information rang a bell in her memory. Edward Nigma, previously known as Edward Nashton and Enigma, who had a while back begun operating under the moniker The Riddler , was now free again. High-priced lawyers will get a man anything, Connie mused. She remembered him, and she definitely remembered Enigma for sure. That was one of the first times that Gotham had really heard of Batman in a positive light after being touted for so long as a menace, a criminal vigilante. And Enigma seemed to be the same thing, just written in a different font. 

And then, of course, there was his work as The Riddler. He’d been under the radar for the longest time, all through her studies it seemed, after being apprehended by Batman in Arkham City. Since then, he’d been unusually silent, behaving himself during his time at Arkham Asylum. So he had sort of disappeared from everyone’s minds, an easy feat in Gotham even for big name criminals, given the onslaught of entirely ubiquitous criminality that found its home there. But she remembered him now, very clearly, as she gazed at the old image of him being dragged from his lair by Aaron Cash. 

And she remembered how she felt at the time of his arrest. It had been difficult for her to reconcile herself with her feelings, knowing what crimes he committed and still being unable to deny the fact that he was actually quite cute. Those feelings stirred themselves up again as she read the article describing his release with excitement. 

“Egotistical, egomaniacal.”

“Superiority complex, God complex.”

“Intelligent, superior intellect.”

“Self-assured, irritating, compulsive, obsessive.”

No mention of a degree though, no doctorate, no title. After a records search, she pulled out the few newspapers that mentioned him, noting that none of them mentioned his schooling, his degree titles, where he might have studied. And then, the jackpot. One which actually explicitly mentioned his lack thereof. 

“Edward Nigma, as he now prefers to be called, refused to attend university. He claims his school life was boring and a test of his patience, and that levels of intelligence such as his cannot be measured by peers, as he has none.”

“Wow. What an ass. He’s perfect .”

So perfect, in fact, that Connie had no concept of just how much time had passed while she read everything she could about The Riddler and his crimes. That was until Harley was smacking her on the back, causing her to choke and splutter on the soda she was sipping. She’d been caught in the middle of reading yet another report which barely even mentioned Edward except in passing, but which she was intent on reading anyway in order to satisfy her desire to find out more, and more, and more. 

“Jeez, Harley! You scared me!”

“ I scared you!? You terrified me! Have you been in here this whole time!?”

“Yeah! You knew that! I said I was going to stay here and study for a little bit.”

“Bubby, I left you eight hours ago. Eight hours! And you’re not answering your phone!”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, shit! Have you been sitting here studying this whole time? And is that… OH, I see you picked up the paper then? I mentioned that as a joke .” She looked to the piles of reference materials littering the table and the floor. “Oh… Connie, Bubby. Is he who you’re focusing on?”

Connie tried to conceal her embarrassment, scrambling to cover the sheets of paper, knowing it was pointless now that the secret was out. 

“Are you blushing ? Oh my god . Connie, you’re supposed to be studying him like the nasty little loser bug he is. This is a psychological deep dive, not a… well, you’re not supposed to have a crush on your patients!”

“He’s not a patient!” Connie reminded herself to keep her voice quiet, rushing to clarify the second part of Harley’s statement. “And I don’t have a crush on him! He’s just… fascinating, that’s all.”

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Fascinating . Next you’re going to be telling me he’s dreamy, so clever, a handsome face for someone so much older than you.”

Desperate to change the subject, Connie closed her notebooks and began packing things into her bag as she spoke. 

“And I’m pretty far ahead with where I wanted to be, so now we can do whatever you want this weekend if you can promise to drop this and not make fun of me.”

“No can do, Bubby. But we are leaving this place, I gotta deprogramme you before you go completely wacko for some puzzle-brained doofus. Pack up your things, say goodbye to your boyfriend and let’s GO!”

Harley was right. Time to relax, let the idea simmer, and then come back to it with a fresh mind on Monday. But it was easier said than put into practice. Surprisingly, it was not all that easy to stop thinking about Nigma. He really was just fascinating . And as her studies continued, the crush developed, to the point where she had considered thanking him in the acknowledgements of the finished product, thought about him as she walked across the stage to get her diploma, wrote about him in her application for her masters, and almost, though luckily she saw sense at the last minute, sent him a copy of her thesis to read. 

But by the time she had finished her masters she was far too focused on the looming threat of real life. There were bills to pay, apartments to rent, work to be done at her new job in the Asylum, a place where Edward had been free of for years. In the back of her mind though, he always lingered, it’s just that there was so little opportunity for her to actually think for herself that he remained just a shadow, a memory of her past life. But not entirely forgettable.

[niragisqueenofhearts]

i love seeing posts from niragi antis (or any other villain antis, just using niragi as an example) on twt where it’s like, “oh my god you’re so gross, i wish niragi was real, so he could beat the shit out of you”

y’all really think that’s a threat??? i fantasize about that 24/7 baby girl, best believe i’d say thank you the whole time and lick my blood off his boots.

[moldy-flowers]

Idk I just hate when people get offended when someone says "Sasuke was mentally unstable" Like okay 1- he broke out into genuine LAUGHTER and I dont understand how you can't be a little weirded out by that and 2- Being mentally unstable isn't like??? A bad thing???

Like??? Being unstable or mentally unwell is in no circumstance a bad thing. You're sick. Would you refute it with the same vigor if I said he had the flu too? Like idk it might just be me but Sasuke finally breaking down makes so much sense for his journey. Like I get people who just explain it away or don't like that hc. But people who outwardly get offended and hurt by me saying he was unwell like? Its really not that serious and it says a LOT about you that you can't handle your favourite character being sick.

[dandyshucks]

[crawling out of the pits of hell]: happy birfday Gu.zma.... ouaauughh [collapses and disintegrates]

[poorks]

I always feel so bad about not being able to donate. We are some broke ass bitches but I love and appreciate the effort!

You should never feel bad about not being able to contribute! We're all broke ass bitches, never donate to things if you don't have the means! Its completely okay not to!

[subarashiihibi]

What I rly need to do is write up a thing abt this excerpt I read in one of the novels …. Ah it was so good I was filled with such emptiness and dread and suicidal ideation as soon as I read it … i have a final to take later (and get I am awake at nearly 4am) so after I get home from that maybe I will…

[nomaishuttle]

hrmm much thinking many thoughts

[no-144444]

guilt tripping- o.piastri

summary: oscar asks something of you that you know you can't do. you do it anyway and it ends in you two almost breaking up. almost.

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! chronic illness! reader

a/n: hey yall, I just broke two ribs (lol) and got diagnosed with a chronic illness (lmao) so I might not be posting as frequently- just dealing with it physically and mentally so yah 😹

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“I don’t know if I can go,” you sighed, feeling even worse. 

“That’s alright,” he assured you, but you could hear the way his excitement depleted and his mood lowered. 

“M-maybe I can work something out, I don’t want to leave you alone,” your guilt grew everyday, this wasn’t healthy for either of you. 

“I don’t want you over-exerting yourself,” he spoke softly into the phone. “I’ll just ask mum if she has any friends that want to go or something. She always brings a million people with her.”

“I don’t want to leave you hanging Oscar. Melbourne is a big race. I’d be happy to come over like a week before, and then come to the race once I’ve had a few days to heal,” you bargained. A 22 hour connecting flight was not something you’d ever wanted to do. You couldn’t do it. You knew the pain would be too bad, yet you still stood there, offering it anyway. “And then I’d come for the race on Sunday, or just small bits on all the days.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excited now. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure Osc, I love seeing you race,” your smile was more of a grimace than anything, but still, the guilt in your chest lessened as you listened to Oscar speak animatedly about the race weekend, while your anxiety ran through the roof. You couldn’t do all the things he wanted you to do, you never could. This had been a problem at the beginning of your relationship, every time he’d plan a date that wasn’t dinner or a movie, you’d have to break the news that a 15 kilometre hike wasn’t something you’d be able to do on a whim. Things like that took planning, physio, and preparation. Your chronic illness was no joke, and had limited you since you were a teenager. In the past few years he’d gotten much better at everything, from helping you with your physio exercises, attending pilates classes with you, knowing what to do on bad pain days, and always looking out for you in public. You knew he was just getting away with himself, and you didn't want to disappoint, so you agreed to it all, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be a bad week of pain or flare-ups wise. 

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You got into Melbourne and sobbed when you got in the car. Thankfully, it was Hattie picking you up, so she just held your hand as you silently cried, the joint and too much to bear. You went straight to bed as Hattie explained to the rest of the house that you were exhausted, and Oscar took it at face value. You usually get extremely tired after long days, and you’d just had a 22-hour day of travel. 

“I’ll go check on her-” he started, desperate to see you but Hattie cut him off. 

“NO!” she squeaked, trying to not sound suspicious. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “She’s really tired and she’s already gone to sleep.”

“Yeah, well I’m tired so I’m going to bed,” he explained, stretching then yawning. 

“Osc,” Hattie sighed, knowing she had to tell him. “She’s not… alright. She can’t do 22 hour travel days like you or I can. She has Lupus and she’s still trying to figure out her medication, so it hurts all the time. She cried from the airport to here, all to support you because you asked her to, and she feels guilty every single time she can’t say yes. She’s done real damage to herself by coming here. I want you to understand that, do you understand that?” 

Oscar nodded, because the other option was breaking down into tears. Yes, he’d felt guilty that he couldn’t be there to take care of you while travelling, and he knew he was asking a lot of you when he asked. The guilt settled deep in his stomach and made him nauseous, but still he continued on to his bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. He could see the puffy eyes, the red nose, the open bottles of medication on the nightstand. He wrapped an arm around your waist, another in your hair and pulled you as close as possible, whispering teary sorrys into your ear. 

When you woke up the next morning, you knew what you had to do. This wasn’t fair on either of you, and you needed to make a change. You quickly (but silently) got up, and started to leave the room, but Oscar grabbed ahold of your hand before you could leave. 

“Please don’t sneak out on me,” he begged, sitting up. He looked wrecked, puffy eyes, red rose- had he been crying? God, had you made him cry? 

“Osc, what’s wrong?” you asked, concern clear as day on your face as you cupped his face with your hands.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I knew I was asking too much when I asked you to come here, I’m so sorry.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Osc, I’m alright, I was just tired last night and-”

“Hattie told me,” his voice was deep, deeper than usual, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. “And I’m so sorry.”

“Osc, I could’ve said no if I didn’t think I was able for it,” you tried to reassure him but he shook his head. 

“Y/n, you did say no and I didn’t take it as an answer,” he scoffed. 

You were stunned into silence. “I think we need to have a talk about us, Osc.”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. 

“This isn’t fair on you. I know I can't control my illness, and neither can you. It sucks, but it’s a fact. I wish I could be there for every single race and cheer you on with the other girls, but I can’t. It’s not in the cards for me right now, and I don’t know when it will be. Oscar, I love you so much, and you’ve been with me through everything and I know you deserve someone who can always be there for you, and I’m not that person right now. I love you but I know it’s not enough,” You finally looked at him and he was biting his lip as tears streamed down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and stood up, dropping your hands as he paced his bedroom. “You know how much I love you, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded as you held back more tears. “So you know that I still feel your support even when we’re in different time zones or on different continents, right? You know that I value you being in as little pain as possible more than being at the barricade after a race, right? You know that I fucking love you more than I love racing, right? Y/n, I’ve been here the entire time, since we were 14 years old. You’re the reason I get in the car, you make me better, all the time it’s just you. I plan on being with you for my whole life, Y/n. I want to be there for everything. I plan to sit there through every appointment about medication until you find the one that actually helps you, I plan on being there for every day where you don’t feel up to it, I plan on being there for you, always. I never want to let go of you, and yeah, it is nice to be able to see you after a race, and I know that because fucking facetime exists. If you still want to break up because I fucked up by asking you to come here, go ahead, but don’t ever think that I’m without because I’m with you. I am so in love with you, Y/n. I mean it. I want to marry you one day, I want a family with you, I want to be old with you so we get to reminisce on the good ol’ days and make some more while we have time. ‘The good ol’ days’ will be the days I spend with you. More than any race win, more than any trophy, or than anything. My favourite part about a race weekend is coming home because I know no matter what my result was, you’ll be there with open arms, loving me anyways. You’re more than enough for me.”

You crossed the room and wrapped your arms around him, crying into his hoodie as he held you. “I love you too.”

After a few moments of both of you calming down, he finally spoke. “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?” he asked, wiping his eyes. 

You nodded, a small smile on your face. “I can, can you forgive me for being such an idiot?”

He chuckled. “You’re no idiot,” he picked you up and gently placed you back on the bed lying beside you. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[k-aemi]

blue lock ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ doctors note.

obsessive behavior, a bit erotic but no smut, self-harm, use of force, multiple mental illnesses exposed, some mischaracterization but its for the plot pls forgive me :<, traumatic events(?)

a/n: haii so this might not be accurately correct im no expert in this category but if you guys catch any mistakes ive made pls tell me thru asks or message me ^^ id like to improve anything and fix.

this is part 1! i will be writing more if you guys like it

for context youre a psychiatrist that works by yourself....kind of. its sort of a family business owned thing. but youre the main worker with the degree, your family was just there to assist you with checking in patients and cleaning around the small facility you owned.

though, it did seemed youd have to relocate else where, you were barely getting patients because of the unknown location you were at, and judged from the outside. just because your place was small doesnt mean you sucked! you were top of medical school!

just on a random day you get over 10+ appointments. you werent sure if someone had mis-clicked and meant to only add one. but there were a list of names, and all their information...

you werent even sure what to do, you dont think youve gotten this many patients at the same time before, possibly 3 at best and that was all.

the one who even assigned all of them to you was some person named Ego Jinpachi. youve heard of him, hes one of the workers of blue lock wasnt he? that football facility not too far from your place. youve found out hes bringing in football lunatics whos suddenly lost their minds. he says if you can, keep them confined in here until theyre able to function properly. this isnt the mental asylum!

he told you hes only chose this one because of the lost of money due the change of behavior in his players, investors soon losing the interest in investing in blue lock. he only has so much to spend.

so he asks you, which of course youll get two percent of what blue lock makes as soon as his players are back in top notch shape, which will make blue lock shine again.

you have no choice but to accept, this is your job anyways! its time to show your full potential!

patient #1: isagi yoichi.

checking in on isagi yoichi. who is dealing with severe anxiety. as hes constantly overcoming obstacles to try and exceed his performance, success and ability to meet beyond expectations. this always leads to him overthinking and anxious in high pressure situations.

he must becomes the best, but he fears falling behind his peers. he sets these expectations himself. his anxiety could worsen if hes pushing himself too hard, he wont be able to take care of himself for the future.

poor boy, always comparing himself with the geniuses surrounding him, he self-doubts himself, he thinks if he cant live up to their level, he cant be number one. he wants to be the best, he wants someone to recognize his talent in order to keep his drive to become number one striker. even an ounce of feeling ignored by the dominant players on field, he doubts his worth in football.

he was only the stepping stone to evolve rin and kaiser? he hates it. it feels like hes left alone in the dark. he wants to be the best, even with his best efforts, he cant do it! only there to unlock others potentials...but what about his?

getting to know him better, you fully understand as he warms up to you. you know the feeling of being left out, having that passion but never recognized for what youre worth for. he looks so drained and you feel so bad about it, for a doctor you feel like you get more sentimental than your patients.

he thinks youre always so patient with him, you would never pry into him forcing how he feels, or force positive thoughts into him. you patiently guide him through it and makes sure to take it step by step. sharing methods that could help with the anxiety.

your voice is so soft and youre not too much for him to handle. he thinks your presence is calming and warm, like he can forget all of his problems with you in there. every time you see a little improvement in his anxiety, youre always there to validate him. you just think with the praises, itd help motivate him!

oh and it does. to the point he lives for your validation. he thinks its a change of pace since youre no competitor from blue lock. he thinks of you as a safe space. you listen to him with no judgement, even when he thinks his diagnosed anxiety was for a stupid reason.

you view him not just as an athlete, but someone with emotions and vulnerabilities. he thinks thats the charm of you. he doesnt even notice it himself, but he starts to depend on you to make sure he doesnt feel rejected from society.

whenever youd come into his room to ask your daily questions, hes always asking further "are you happy im doing well..?" just to hear your sweet praises fall into his ears. hes love to hear it from you. thats his only source of living comfortably right now.

"yes 'm so happy 'ichi! im so excited to see you back onto the fields!" you clasped your hands together. the way the nickname rolls off your tongue makes him feel hes important to you, normally when someones important to someone, they love them right? you love him dont you? just as much as he does?

"[name..] you care about me right...? like a lot?" hed randomly ask you when youre checking up on him. it was very out of no where considering you were talking about the very famous franchise kamen rider shows. "hm? yeah care about you s'much!" you flashed your sweet smile at him.

your presence feels so warm...he...he wonders what its like for lovers to kiss is like, which is what he assumes you are to him. he cups your cheeks, staring intensely at your lips. youre a tad confused, you wondered if he just wanted to grab hold of something. not until you see him lean him and your eyes widened. coming back to your senses, you hands came in between your lips and his, stopping the kiss.

isagi can only look so confuse. what are you doing? youre his lover arent you? he can kiss you. why are you refusing him? his affection? are you rejecting him?

"i-ichi...what are you doing..?" you awkwardly back up and you see his gaze darkened. "this is what lovers do right...? we have to kiss. or are you rejecting me like everyone else does. am i just a background character to your story too?!" he lashes out on you.

"no no-what-lover..?" you should of perhaps saw this coming, in some rare cases it happens. your trance of thoughts were interrupted when isagi knocks down the vase on his nightstand.

"fuck-! knew it. fucking knew it. youre just toying with me too huh? youre rejecting me." he growls. the vase shatters you hurriedly try to pick up the pieces, youre scared isagi might try to hurt himself with these shards, if you dont take action fast, hell do it, so youll pick it up with hand first, the broom is kind of far and if you come back to him in a worsened condition, it can only lead to the bad.

you cut yourself on accident and you hissed at the pain. isagi immediately notices, grabbing hold of your finger...looking at it intently.

"u-uh ichi..?" you try to retreat your hand from him, but his gaze leaves you fazed. those eyes of his were so scary. isagi licks the blood that spills from your finger and licks it tenderly. sucking on the digists, tasting your precious blood which he thinks is sacred.

"i love you so much [name]...you feel the same way dont you..?"

patient #2: bachira meguru.

focusing on bachira meguru. a bit energetic...well thats probably an understatement, he really is energetic. studying him for a while it seems he has borderline personality disorder.

bachira who longs for deep connections may connect to fear of abandonment. he always struggled with loneliness and was always called weird by the other kids. as a coping mechanism, it led to him creating his "monster" he talks about to deal with the isolation hes faced.

he has an intense fear of being alone, even if its all in his head, he hates it. hes really dependent and have a strong sense of attachments to certain indivduals, just like isagi. he saw isagi as a crucial part to his well-being, knowing he can play football with him, hes like him, he has a monster too.

he yearns for someone to understand him. creating a sense of acceptance and validation from others. if he cant play football with anyone else, who else can but his monster..?

he doesnt even know who he is, he relies on others to define himself. just like how he relies on isagi a lot. whenever he sees isagi becoming more independent in his plays, he feels left behind because he thinks thered be no one else to play with him. :(

without the monster inside of him, he doesnt know how else to see himself. hes sees himself within that monster, without it, he struggles to find his true self.

whenever you come to visit him, hes always mentioning the monster to you. saying he wants to play, but you must help him get better first so he can succeed without the monster!

of course, you always ask him about the monster, you want to slowly try and make him self aware he can build other connections than his inner monster. you try to understand what triggers or triggered this abandonment, and when he tells you, you start to tear up on the inside!

you tell him to jolt down whenever he feels lonely or abandoned. or when his monster appears, what does it say? what does it do to him? giving him a little journal and a cute little pen with a sunflower on top to match his golden locks that touch the tips.

"you can tell me anything in this journal ok?" you flashed a smile at him. and he finally feels like youre the only one who understands him and this monster. honestly, if you were trying to make him to stop depending on the monster, hell just depend on you instead, thats the only reasonable thing to do right?

he sees you as a special person he doesnt want to lose. youre always so caring and give him the comfort he needs when he crys in the middle of night, saying he just feels so alone, he needs you to be there for him :(

hes never had this sort of comfort before aside from his mom. but having you and going through the process with it, he thinks this is what love feels like. he was always too silly to form a crush on anyone, or to even get a girlfriend, but with you by his side, this was definitely the love he yearned for, you understood him better than anyone. youre the only one for him.

he thinks whenever you visit him, its like going on a date! youre always coming in looking so pretty (you dont even have makeup on and youre in casual clothing www) for him and you look so happy to talk to him just as much as he does, he loves his doctor girlfriend<3

you dont even realize hes falling in love with you. you just think its his playful manner and excitement! youre so naive. what the hell did you mean you didnt know when he told you "you know if you werent my doctor id totally make you mine! kidding.." sticking out his tongue, hes so silly you just laugh.

sometimes hed randomly text you things outside of professional settings if you werent available right now, either out food shopping or helping out family matters. not that you mind, but itd be super random. "i drew two dogs. its us! :D”

even when hed say some "weird" things you suppose, something along the lines of him complaining why you have other patients. he tells you to just tend to him! you can only raise your eyebrow in confusion. "you do know its my job right?" you giggled a bit. "mmm... dont care. youre my doctor. and i hate sharing."

bachira always comes up to hug you first thing when you open the door to his room, he hears your footsteps from the hallway so he just stands to the side and jump at you when you enter in.

"[name]!!!" he nuzzled against your neck, the thud was so loud you think your sister probably heard it like 3 rooms away. his head rested above your chest as he rubbed his face on it, holding you tight around the waist.

"megu...stop doing that! im gonna get a head concussion one day!" you playfully bonk his head and he let out a soft grunt. he only giggles before inhaling your scent. god he loved this smell, it was at least better than the smell of antiseptics and disinfectants, it made his head hurt a bit.

"but missed you s'much.." he pouts. how did you not see the signs? you let out a content sigh, flashing a smile to him before patting his head, ruffling his hair. "sorry sorry, i was really busy. lets get you checked up yeah?" he nods eagerly. getting up to help you by handing his hand out, you grabbed it as he pulled you up. you never really realized how tall he was, judging by looks, he doesnt even look that tall!

but your trance of thoughts is immediately interrupted by a soft pair of lips on your cheek. did bachira just...? you back away, rubbing the part he kissed.

"im so excited for our date! were gonna talk lots and lots of things!" he grips your wrist, dragging you to the stool next to his bed. but you didnt budge an inch.

"hmm whats wrong? why do you look so upset?" he leaned closer to you but you back away. he notices this and doesnt take it so lightly.

"why are you avoiding me now..? do you think im weird? do you see me as a monster?" he starts to overthink it, as he clenches onto your shirt with a pained look. whats with this sudden demeanor?! you were never like this...so why now? was it the kiss? he thought you loved him so he thought you wouldnt mind!

"of course not megu...but you really cant just-" youre interrupted with a kiss on the lips. he didnt want to hear it. he was too dependent on you already, and youre gonna leave him like you guys had nothing? like you didnt have a single ounce of feelings for him either?! hes furious. how could you.

"dont leave me now [name]...please...i need you."

patient #3: chigiri hyoma.

onto the next model-uh patient. chigiri hyoma. seriously did he come from blue lock? he looks like a model with that beautiful hair of his. you accidentally mistook him for a woman! recording his actions and behaviors, you assume he suffers from ptsd, or post-traumatic stress disorder.

you found out that he had a acl tear and it was a traumatic event he just cant seem to forget, it nearly destroyed and shattered his dreams of being the best striker. sure he recovered, but this shaped his behavior and caused him emotional distress.

he was most confident in his speed, and for it to just be taken away from him again makes him scared. it would mean losing who he was as a player. stripping away that confidence and sense of security. poor baby.

hed never told anyone about this event. making it even hard to process having to bottle up is fears. even with his body healed, his mind didnt, still facing the fear and hesitation. :(

that traumatic event always replay back in his mind, and the words of his doctors still echoed inside of his head. hearing those devastating words that of he were to tore his acl again, his career of a soccer player is over.

whenever out on the field he gets the image of the injury happening, which he hesitates to show his full potential. whenever hed see someone to fall or hurt their knee, he cant help but feel that trigger, causing fear. it reminds him of what had happened and he cant escape from it.

just even thinking about running full speed, he hesitates and starts to hyperventilate. he gets so scared, he doesnt want to quit, he wants to keep playing! it gets so bad to the point hed have to be switched out with another person.

all he can do is run away from his fear, he wants to protect himself in order to keep playing. but how can he keep it up if his speed is what defined him? he wants to, but hes too scared of the risk.

he sees his strength in his speed. without it, hes nothing. hes nothing worth more than lead. he hated the feeling. the feeling of being weak, the feeling of being so scared. he hates himself. with his hesitation, he cant help but always feel like hes dragging his teammates down.

because youre his doctor and not one of the blue lock competitors, he thinks it might be alright to just fill you in, but he ended up telling you everything, and how he felt. he even cried, knowing he was weak after he lost his sense of self.

you sob listening to his story. youre determined to make him feel like he will be the best without having to worry! youre the first person hes ever told anyone outside his family. you give him the reassurance youll never tell a single soul about what happened to him.

to start off you think itd be best if you can help change his mindset! you help him challenge the negative thoughts that may occur in his head with confidence! "sure your speed is your gift, but its not the only thing that defines you! you need to remember just because it happened once, it wont happen again!"

hes never even thought of it like that, this whole time all he could think about is how hell destroy his body, and that stops him from showing his full potential.

you guide him through training to increase his comfort with getting used to full speed movements to boost his confidence his knee is strong and the past wont control him anymore! you give him some methods and techniques on to calm his anxiety before matches so that he wouldnt be so hesitant anymore.

you hope hed focus on the present, than cling onto the repeat of the past.

knowing youre the first person to know about his knee, you understand the weight of his trauma and you see past the talent he was gifted, he was more than just a speedy person! thats what he enjoyed about you. he feels like youre his safe space.

he gets these stir of feelings, hes confused on what it is. it happened when you told him..."you dont have to prove anything to me! whether you run or not, youre still the chigiri hyoma i know" followed by a giggle. what...what was this burning sensation in his chest. he cant wrap a finger around it.

he feels like around you, he can show his most vulnerable state. whether hes crying, angry, or scared. he can show it all to you without feeling judged. that always led to him wanting to seek your reassurance all the time. outside of football, he can be himself if youre around.

he loved how you were able to help him overcome his fears, even if it took a while, all throughout his whole years of liviing he was able to feel better about himself. due to his avoidant ways, he feels such a deep connection with you, causing him to think, maybe this is the feeling of love. he may thinks its admiration but he shrugged that feeling. its definitely love.

he starts to take mental notes of the little things you like or do. oh you prefer to use the air fryer than oil fry your food? its noted. you like to pick out the tomatoes from your burgers because you think the texture is gross? hes got it down. you like this certain movie at this specific time? you know it.

he loves your approval. everything you say to him puts in a trance really but he specifically loves whenever you help train his knee, seeing his progress, you tell him, "im so proud of you hyo!" his heart will always skip a beat.

he thinks the only patient you should tend to is him. i mean...you look like you enjoy his presence a lot, it means youre his favorite right? thats what he sees at least. so whenever youd leave his room, hed just mutter under his breath. "arent i better than them..?" with his furrowed eyebrows.

he knows the rules, he cant be a patient that falls in love with his doctor, but can you blame him? youre so caring and nice to him, its such a reliever from all of the egoists from blue lock. you dont think hed at least build some sort of dependency on you?

"alright hyo! im so happy youre recovering, i know its a long process but just some progress is a lot!" clasping your hands together to show your happiness. he knows its genuine, i mean you cant fake a smile like that. its so warm...youre like the sun to him.

"[n-name]...." he suddenly called out to you as he was sat on the edge of his bed, gripping onto the sheets with fear. he wants to tell you how he feels. i mean, you could potentially have feelings for him too right? theres no way a doctor is this nice to their patients unless theres one reasonable explanation. you like him too.

"yes hyo?" you didnt look up from your clipboard, jolting down some notes and writing some important details. you can hear some slight hesitation in chigiris words. but didnt really pay no attention to it.

"please just...listen...i..think...no scratch that..i know i have feelings for you." he would rub the back of his neck, slowly trailing his gaze from the ground to your eyes. he hated being vulnerable but for you, and for this opportunity, he couldnt waste it. he loved you so much.

you can only just stare at him dumbfounded, your pen dropping to the floor. you didnt expect him to openly express his feelings. you didnt even think he would have feelings for you. he most of the time had a stoic face to him, it was kind of hard to read him, but you still got through him.

you struggle to say the words you want to say. youre an extreme people pleaser and youd hate to hurt another patients feelings. "im glad youre aware hyo, but as your doctor, its a built on trust on your healing process. if i crossed that line, id be failing you. i wont dismiss or disregard your feelings like its nothing, youre important to me and i care deeply about you." you frown at him and you can see his eyes lower as his lips quivered.

you figured hed try and undestand, but he just persist, and it maybe fueled his anger. "so...thats it? just because...of some fucking stupid rule? is this your excuse? just fucking tell me you dont love me. at least make an exception! for me!" he lashed out and you kind of get scared. youve never seen him raise his voice at you. he hyperventilates as he continues with his fuel.

"you cant just tell me, just because youre my doctor...youre telling me we didnt have a thing going on? because it sure as hell didnt feel that way. i cant just pretend youre werent the only person who truly understood me! tell me...how to do that." he walked up to you, hovering over your figure.

you didnt dare to look at him, knowing youd be met with his cold gaze. you just bit your lip and clutched your clipboard in anticipation. until he took hold of your shoulders leaning down to your level and meet your eyes.

"fucking tell me [name]!" his eyebrows furrowed as his teeth grit. youre so scared, you feel threatened, but youre not sure what to do, hes much stronger than you. theres nothing you can do in this situation.

when he sees your trembling figure, he loosen his grip on you and sighed. hesitantly wrapping his arms around your neck when he sees you wince a bit. he soften a bits before letting out a content sigh.

"'m so sorry...didnt mean to... i love you, you know that...?"

patient #4: itoshi rin.

the brother of itoshi sae, itoshi rin. you could of swore you treated to itoshi sae once. but thats for another story. judging by his actions, you think hes suffering from depression.

this patient sure was a bit difficult. he rarely talks about his feelings. instead its mostly hatred he expresses it as. hes always talking to himself, "its not enough.." repeatedly you dont even know if hes aware youre still in his presence.

when he wants to get away from the suffering, he fixates on sae. he hates the way sae just did him like that, seriously his only goal was to play football to become the second best aside sae. now he wanted to change? he doesnt matter in saes life anymore? how could he. how fucking dare he.

he cant express his sadness so easily. even if he tried to, it turns into anger, lashing out on others. but he doesnt mean it, it just happens. he doesnt mean to push others way.

hes so harsh on himself, he thinks every loss granted feels like a personal failure, making him hate himself even more. when you had first tried to help him, he could only scoff to himself. "dont ask me stupid questions." you kind of cried from that harsh tone but dealt with it (www).

hes always keeping his distance. hes so focused on winning, he barely express genuine joy and rarely smiles. but its not like he wants to. he wants to prove himself the best of the best, after what had happened with his big brother. hes terrified of being betrayed again. he cant just let people walk into his life, just to be betrayed.

he will never allow himself to feel good enough. every failure and loss of his will only increase his self-loathing. he pushes himself, pass his limit, to the point hes at the passing out point. but he must do what he must, hell never rest. you know his excessive training? he thinks for not being strong enough hell punish himself with it. thats why hes so well built.

hell never waste time, meaning he runs to little to no sleep. how could he when he has people to exceed. he must train harder than ever before, push his limits. when you question why he does that he gives you an annoyed glance. (makes you cry on the inside) "only the weak rest. i dont have time for that."

he cant ever forget that night. how could he? its a wound hes not able to stich up. rin hates sae, but on the look of his eyes, he yearns for saes validation. it only fuels when he praised isagi. shattering rins heart. he cant stand it anymore.

no matter how much he can do, hell never be better than sae, he never feels enough. he thinks the reason why sae is gone is because hes too weak, it hurts, it really fucking does.

though rin was a difficult patient to get a hold of, you never had the thought to give up, everyone has their breaking point, even for someone like rin. youd be so patient with him, even if it felt like everyday was a failure to try to get him to open up.

rin hates how persistent you are. he hates being vulnerable towards others. but you never shut up do you? why cant you just give up. but this feels all too familiar. still persistent yet no where close to the main goal. he can only punch the wall, leaving a hole in the room hes assigned in.

you think the most effective way to help him was to challenge his toxic thought patterns by questions. "if you think losing makes you worthless, why do people respect those who lose but improve?"

rin can only halt for a moment and rethink his harsh self judgement. he tries something to counter it, but nothing comes to mind at first.

rin never directly told you, but you can imply someone important has either left him or betrayed him of some sort. was a friend? girlfriend? parental figure of some sort? youre not sure.

"who is this person you wish to surpass? i noticed you tend to say "i will destroy him." you had hope this could maybe expose his intentions? but rin only scoff.

"that man...i swear ill destroy him hell regret everything he said to me that night.!" he raised his voice. honestly you dont know who else can it be.

"is it perhaps your older brother, itoshi sae?" and his ears perked up. you notice his change of behavior. guessing it was him. "why did sae leave you?"

"theres nothing to talk about."

"then...just hearing his name, why does it make you angry? if he didnt matter, you wouldnt care." and rin cant even run away from his feelings. he knew he had to confront them sooner or later.

rin only knows how to push himself, he doesnt have any healthy coping mechanisms. poor boy. rin would sometimes refuse to talk to you, only resulting to telling to him to write down his feelings to realize whats going on and see that hes actually harming himself.

as he writes his feelings down, he starts to read aloud what he writes to you and your heart lights up, youre so happy hes able to warm up to you even after a whopping of two weeks. once you validate his feelings, he finally learns...maybe allowing being able to express himself doesn't make him feel weak.

though you did need to help his other unhealthy coping mechanisms, such as not getting enough sleep and punishing himself for being so "weak". youd give him advice to try an improve those coping methods. "if youre trying to improve yourself please dont push yourself. you need to recover too. you need to take care of yourself okay? in order to beat sae." at least to match up with his goals to motivate him to change his unhealthy ways.

rin generally thought of you just as a doctor who has to tolerate with his issues. hes emotionally distant and refuse to acknowledge any pain or feelings. but just seeing your ways of helping him puts him in a sense of comfort.

youre always calm and non-judgmental, someting rin isnt used to, due to the environment hes in and because of his brother. with you around he feels like he can slowly open up. not fully but just...slowly.

the more he talks about sae, the more he expresses his struggles. throughout his whole life he was incapable of expressing himself, but with you around, you create that space for him to open himself more.

the more and more he talks, he doesnt even realize it himself. he just lets himself go, is it because youre here? he feels like time goes by fast when hes with you. he finds...comfort within you.

as your job, youre always here to remind him to care for himself, something he heavily struggles with. whenever he seems to be so stressed out, you give him the upmost attention which rin doesnt realize he likes when youre showing your concern for him. at first he feels its weird when he receives your comfort, but he lets down his guard with you within time.

sometimes when he realizes hes becoming too close to you, he wants to push you away. well he does. when youre trying to pry his feelings out, he just makes excuses to end the session early, or just refuse to talk to you.

even with his refusal you dont give up on him, which is what he hates. whenever you keep up at it, he feels sting at his chest. he cant even describe what he feels. was this a bad feeling? good? scared? he cant get a hold of it.

its subtle but he does show he cares for you too. he would notice the eyebags under your eyes and the way you would slur your words a bit in sessions. hed only get a bit ticked off, "stop pushing yourself so hard. its annoying seeing you like this." honestly its so unexpected of him, but you just figured hed want a more professional doctor instead of a tired one.

sometimes when he does catch on with what he does, he tries to distance himself, skipping sessions to see if the feeling will go away. but it only worsens and lingers, he wants--no, needs to see you.

at a session, he does seem to be uncooperative, not like its anything new, but you do see that somethings been on his mind. you wonder what could it be. "everything alright rin? you seem to be on edge today. whats bothering you?" you cross your legs tapping on your clipboard.

rin can only scoff with his jaw clenched. just seeing you made him even more frustrated. "obviously. you." you halt your movements in confusion, oh no did you do something wrong as his doctor?

"me? im sorry can you recall what you dislike?" you leaned back on your chair in anticipation of his response. "i hate it. its confusing. i dont get why i always think of you. why i feel like i cant stand being here, but also the idea of not coming back. i dont know anymore. everytime i leave this room, its like i leave something behind. and i dont want to go." clenching his fist as his gaze falls to the floor.

you think hes just expressing his frustration, only until his words hit you cold. "its more than that. I-" you cut him off. you already knew what was to come. "rin please. i care about you, but i cant be that person for you. i am only here to better your wellbeing."

he didnt like that answer. it only fueled his anger in fact. slamming the table in front of him before angrily scurrying off. "rin!" you called out to him, but hes already left your office. you can only sigh frustratingly before continuing to note down some information.

its late at night. and your up in your office, just up to finish some work for the other 10 patients you need to tend to....its such hard work! only until someone opened your door and it was so unexpected you jumped. but its only rin, and you sighed. "rin? your session was over hours ago."

he can only click his tongue before walking up to your desk. "i needed to talk." he says with his stoic face. "you know its late, i cant make exceptions." now standing in front of your desk, the only light that emitted was from the door, and the white from the computer screen. "you do it for other patients." he shifts his gaze to the side.

"rin, if its about that-i care about you as my patient, but thats all there is to it." "i know." you frown, you hated confronting your patients, it always felt so mean but you had to! "then why are you still here?" rin can only clench his fist. "because i dont believe you."

his eyes flickered with determination and desperation as he grits his teeth. "if you didnt feel the same, you wouldnt care this much. i know it. i know you can feel it too, dont you?" he really did try to make you admit you did have feelings for him. you dont even know what to do anymore! "you treat me different than others."

"i treat my all my patients equally."

"liar. you hesitate when you look at me. you dont do that with others! i know how you look at me." he kept eye contact with you, slowly walking to your figure.

"Rin-"

"youre scared how i make you feel." he interrupted. "you think you know how i feel. but i know exactly what it is." his arm would reach out to caress your cheek, but you grip is wrist. his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

"rin, i care about you a lot than you think, but not in the way you want me to!" but he could only swat your hand away before taking hold of your cheeks, as he forces you to stare at his teal eyes.

"liar. i know you feel it. the connection we have. its stronger than any other patient you have." he closes in. you turn to face the other direction, avoiding his ways with you.

"stop refusing me already! look at me." he whispered to you, in a calmer tone to convince you. but his patient wears thin. he was always impatient. "i said look at me!" forcing you to look at his eyes. fear in your eyes, youre scared he might hurt you at this point.

"thats a better look for you." eyeing your lips, he feels some sort of excitement, that flow. your lips quivered, but its okay, rin will comfort you now, its to repay you back for everything youve done for him.

he leans in kissing you. his knee rested in between the negative spot in the chair, as his arms rests on the sides.

"see..? this kiss proves our connection."

patient #5: mikage reo.

from the mikage corp, reo mikage. for such a once bright person hes so gloomy and unmotivated now. hes always talking about your other patient named nagi seishiro. was there some sort of conflict between the two? the way he talks about him leaving, it seems like he has dependent personality disorder.

reos entire motivation for football intiailly revolved around nagi it seems. he always believed they could achieve such greatness together and that nagi was his treasure. he fixates a lot on their relationship and uses that to define his own worth.

but thats when his whole world shattered when he left him for isagi. really, was he not good enough in nagis eyes to partner up with him? he struggles to cope after that whole event. hes not confident in his ability alone, and refers himself nagis partner only, not as a person himself.

you know how he lost to isagi and nagi? and when nagi didnt choose him? he panics so much when nagi chooses to move on without him. he feels lost and betrayed. why didnt he choose him? the way he pleaded nagi just shows the fear of him being left behind. he doesnt want to succeed by himself, he wants--no...needs to do it with someone by his side.

observing reo more, he seems more of a follower than a leader himself. always relying on nagi rather than himself as a striker while lacking the self confidence without his partner. he feels as if hes not enough on his own. showing that part of his dependency needs.

he feels distressed when he thinks nagi will leave him behind and abandon him. he doesnt know how, but he just wants to keep nagi close to him. he was always perfect with everything, but he cant even keep his relationship perfect with nagi.

he needs nagis guidance in order to succeed, whenever out in the field, he looks for nagi for confirmation or approval of some sort. showing that lack of confidence in his own judgement.

he does have goals of his own, but he buts his own needs behind nagis. he finds nagis well being more important than his, he sacrifices his needs to make sure nagi feels secure, even neglecting his own desires. he lets nagi take control of situations because hes scared getting into conflict with nagi :(

taking all of this, you figured why not focus on increasing his self-confidence and help with emotional stability! though you did know this would be a difficult challenge as a lot of people struggle with that.

his biggest issue would be his worth and purpose to other people, which in this case was nagi...you would help work on building a sense of self outside of relationships! you would try to make reo aware of his dependency on others and talk about his own strengths when playing football, or just any personal achievements since he was good at anything.

you encourage him to make decisions alone! you start off small though, since nagi isnt there to decide for him, you think it will help build that individualism. you ask for what kind of meal would he like to eat, not what nagi would want. and then youd start with what would he want to do after he has won the world cup. something along the lines of that!

you do take note on what he told you how he felt during nagis "betrayal", you do believe he has a fear of abandonment. so you would try to suggest and develop coping mechanisms for him! you would try to prove to himself he can handle it, control is emotions, and communicate his needs without fear!

you teach him to set boundaries, so he isnt so dependent on one person or fixate on it. but you feel like you just made it worse.

hes never received such emotional support for his feelings, he thinks the way you treat him like hes so delicate makes him feels such things. youre one of the first people to listen to him, guide him, and see him more than just the mikage kid from a rich family who can do anything. but you see the side where hes most vulnerable.

he feels less alone venting his emotions to you, he develops that attachment. somewhere close where nagi lies.

he loves your reassurance that you give when he tries to work on his independency. but its not like you do that to make him rely on you, you just want him to be more confident in his healing progress! "Reo, you can do this, you dont need anyone to be strong." youd flash that sweet smile of yours and he gives you a soft look. "you really think so..?"

the more time you guys connect, the more he just sees you more that go beyond that patient-doctor bond. he admires the way you talk, the way you comfort him, and your sweet smile. hed always be in a trance when you speak because your voice is so soft, sometimes he doesnt even realize you asked him a questioned and youd have to shake him to come back to reality.

"reo? you okay?" you raised your eyebrow in confusion and concern. but hed only be startled, avoiding your gaze. "y-yes...just thinking." hed cover his mouth with his hand with such a flushed face. just from that moment, hes not just attached, but in love.

but hed always tried to reject that possibility. no no, hes not in love, he just really appreciate you for trying your best to help him...yeah thats it. he justifies his feeling as you just doing your job and you help him a lot. like when hed want to talk to you more often than scheduled sessions...or when youre so kind to him. sure everyones been super friendly with him, but you were just so different from others.

finishing up your session you click your pen and settle down your clipboard. "reo, youre making such great progress! you should be proud of yourself!" you clasped your hand together with that cheery face of yours. reo really didnt care about feeling better anymore. he just wanted to be with you at all times. sometimes he might even slip up to make his feelings for you obvious, but your naive self just take it as him still in the healing process.

he wouldnt want to try and make it obvious, but how could he make it known that he did love you? ah, thats right. money! hes rich, he can basically use that as a way to win your affection, its worked on others, itll work on you too.

at first hed test the waters, buying you such expensive gifts that not even you can afford or would even have thought of buying. designer clothes, watches, or some sort of vacation, telling you that you deserve a break from your hard work. (the trip will just be you and him www).

hell donate to the clinic, he tells your family members to keep it a secret from you because he doesnt want you to know hes funding your workplace, youd probably just try to refuse the money, but he just wants to make your life easier! and by that...he also wants to help with any bills you have under your name or debts you need to pay off like medical school.

he thinks its his way of showing his newfound "love" to you. everybody loves money dont they? its perfect. whenever hed suggest giving you an abundance of money, you just refuse, shaking your head.

"reo, i cant accept this," youd frown while crossing your arms.

hed get nervous from the way you react, why are you rejecting his money? no one ever has. "just let me do something nice for you. its a way of repaying back." hed laughed it off, but hes so scared you might catch on. whenever you reject his gifts, he gets so frustrated. he thinks even his money isnt enough for you. or was he, himself whole wasnt enough?

if you werent going to tend to his advances, he might as well just...say it to you right? hed gaslight himself into thinking maybe you wanted him to directly say it, maybe thats why you refused to take anything from him.

"alright reo, thank you for your time today! im glad to see you almost in shape and youll back to blue lock!" seeing you stand up from your chair, hed take hold of your wrist, not budging.

"[n-name]...i know this is very sudden. but." he stopped in his tracks, standing up looking down at your figure before taking both of your hands in his. hed inhale a breath before making eye contact with you again.

"i see you more as my doctor [name]. you make me feel like i could be the person i truly want to be..." hed caress your hands with his thumb. he thinks he just made it worse for the both of you. the silence is heavy as you stare at him in disbelief.

"im glad i can provide that space for you reo, but you cannot do this, nor can i accept any of the gifts you give me." reo can only frown, his desperation clearly showing.

"why? because im just a patient to your eyes? i can be more than that. you can quit your job and ill provide the money for you. you and your family!" he tightens his hold on you and his look is pleading. but you can only shake your head in refusal. "i must remain professional reo."

after that confession reo would pretend like hes fine, but thats because he was embarrassed and sadden. but its not like hed give up, he just wanted to give off the impression that he didnt care, but he did.

"to think someone could reject me, its refreshing." hed smile it off but you can only sigh, it just seems like hes trying to remind you of that.

he thinks to himself that if expensive gifts wont work on you, hed switch to personalized ones. like a favorite show you mentioned, he would buy merch and give it to you. or if you mentioned a book you wanted to read but never had the time to go buy it, hed buy it for you alright.

hed try to make it hard for you to completely cut him off by just spending an abundance amount on the funds, donations or buying out your workplace...

hes always offering to help, but even when you did refuse hed just play it off as being generous, but really he just doesnt want to give up on you.

he resorts to more desperate measures without even realizing it. "youre the only person who sees who i really am. if you leave too...whats left of me..?" hed caress your hand with his thumbs. lifting the hand to give a sweet gentle kiss to it.

"reo, you have to learn how-" he cuts you off, pulling you in to take hold of your waist.

"why do you fight so much? you care about me, i know you do!" your hands lay on his chest to try and push him off, but he wouldnt budge even a bit! "not in the way you want me to reo. youre my patient." hed stay silent for a bit, biting his lips from your response until blood was drawn. only to let out a bitter laugh.

"so im just another patient for you? just another worthless being you have to fix?!" hed squeeze you tighter, until your bodies connected. "youre not worthless reo. and youre important to me, but it isnt right to do this." youd frown hoping he can finally understand the situation hes in right now.

"then why does it feel like youre the only thing keeping me together..?" hed rest his forehead on your shoulder with his voice cracking. "please. just let me love you. youre my treasure."

this took forever to write and think out i hope it is okay to you guys! since it is not smut i feel like it will flop ( ‾́ ◡ ‾́ )

[goshtoon]

NEEDS

Jayce x gn!reader (established relationship)

Wordcount: 3k

Warnings: 18+, fluff, sub!Jayce, Thighjob, hurt/comfort (a bit), pre mental illness influx, still crying while sex (male giving),

Heavy footfalls echo trough the silent floor, each one wearier than the last.

As former student, turned to up-starting inventor, now turned councilor: Jayce Talis commands his limbs to obey him for merely five minutes more.

The pressure of being a protector to not only his close circle but all of piltover weighing each step down more than the last.

On top of that he had a fall out with Viktor, who seemed to only get more weak by the day, as his illness festers within him.

Jayce suppresses a broken sob, lifting his palm to steady himself upon one of the walls, before regaining his ragged pace.

It’s all too much, he feels as though he might just crumble to the floor and sob waiting for his mothers grounding hands to comb through his locks.

But there’s something much more reachable, and arguably just as soothing.

You, and your firm presence, the perhaps only unchanging constant, waiting for him just through the door at the end of the stretching hall.

At the sight of your apartment door, Jayce’s body gets a rush, as if pricked by a needle, as something starts tugging within his chest.

An undeniable yearning pressing his feet to move faster, fishing out the key you had made for him.

It clicks in the lock and he moves in, pressing himself against the shut door heaving a low sigh.

„There you are…“ your voice drifts to his ears, almost as if cradling them each in some healing balm.

He finds himself unable to open his dry lips to speak back, almost as if something got stuck in his throat.

You’re clad in your sleep wear, having seemingly come from the kitchen, a steaming cup lodged between your hands.

Taking him in it doesn’t take a genius to take a guess at how he’s feeling. Tussled hair, a twitching hand, the slightly hunched back and his wobbling reddened bottom-lip.

These past few weeks it’s become a scarily common occurrence.

Brows furrowed, you step forward taking one of his shaky hands in your own, gently leading it to cradle the warm mug.

The warmth seeps into his skin, soothing the tension striking through his fingers. Letting out a small more content sigh he smiles at you, your own face mirroring his as you lean up to peck his lips. He almost collapsed into the kiss, desperately letting your warm soft lips mold against his own, bitten bloody on his own volition.

Pulling back, you give a gentle smile, partnered with his own lovestruck one.

„Don’t feel like talking right now?“ you incline your head, his own still too full of worry to form words, he wouldn’t know where to begin.

A slight tilt of his head confirms his intent to rest his voice for now, as you lead him into your living space.

It’s beyond dark out by now, and the main source of light are the fairylights strung all around the living room, that he made for you. They illuminate your shape in a golden like hue, as you cradle his unoccupied hand and draw him onto the couch.

„Now how about you sit here finish your tea and I give you a small massage?“ you quip up, a tender finger drawing circles on his palm.

The thought of your hands on him, gliding over his shoulders, his back and drifting lower and lower— do unspeakable things to his already spinning head. Mangled rotten worrisome thoughts are now partnered with guilt for the undeniable lust pulsing through him.

The thought of worrying about nothing at all, while you pamper him with all means at your disposal, a delightful prospect nesting in his emptying mind. Though the fear of not performing as he should, as he would want rips into the rosy notions.

He visibly deflates, rubbing his neck, giving a low hum.

„I’d love that“ he croaks, you perk up, moving behind the couch to rest your hands on his jacket. Slowly and gently you pry it off of him, with a little help from the wearer.

The mere ambience, you and the echoing silence seem to do wonders on Jayce’s static filled mind, as he closes his eyes and leans back into your touch.

You make sure to fold the jacket on the armrest, before starting of gently on his shoulders. Feeling the amount of tightness, as you give a considering hum, making sure to rub firm circles into them.

Jayce’s body goes slack under your calculated movements, his head falling back into the backrest, giving you a beautiful view of his visibly relaxing face.

His lashes flutter, as his lips part gently letting out small huffs of air and noises of distinct approval when you unfurl a particularly tight spot.

You almost lose yourself in the task, finding the sight of him and the noises to be the most rewarding of things.

“You’re incredible” he breaths, his eyes still closed and you believe the stray praise is more instinctive rather than targeted.

Making sure to firmly yet gently disperse all the knots within his muscles.

It doesn’t take long before Jayce is almost slipping off the couch, his body turning into putty beneath your firm touches.

“There we are” you mutter gently, earning a content sigh from the man who now gazes at you with his amber eyes, the most lovestruck expression gracing his sculpted features, the teacup long abandoned on the coffee table.

“Wow” he smiles at you, fumbling to upright himself. Having seemingly significant trouble, probably due to parts of his body having fallen asleep.

When he finally does his hands gently lay upon your hips as he presses a gentle kiss to the area above your stomach within reach of his still sitting frame.

“Thank you” he mumbles, snuggling into the previously kissed area, as you comb through his stray locks.

He’s still in his head you note, though his body may seem free of tension.

“How about you get ready for bed” you murmur, earning a huff from Jayce, his arms tightening around your waist, holding you steady like an anker.

Having to resist the urge to let him mope like this

As adorable as he is whiningly pouting like this, you have another idea how to get him to unwind even more— and for that you need him in bed.

“If you get to bed, I might have something for you” you whisper, his gaze snaps up as he gauges your mischievous smile and raises brow.

“I see” he grins up boyishly, before letting go of you and propping himself off the couch.

He wavers a bit, instinctively you reach out a steading hand though your lovers catches himself, uttering out a slight curse.

The plan forming in your mind, is to get Jayce to bed, knowing him though his body might be at ease no, his mind is most certainly still full of worry. Full of worry for Viktor, the council, the city both upper and under parts. You know it’s getting to him, having to take a place to make live changing decisions when you were just a mere inventor.

Hoping to be able to get him to lose himself for the night you gather a few things, hearing the unmistakable clatter of Jayce rifling through your stuff, most likely searching for some of his own clothes.

Though he has been around a lot more since joining the council, he technically hadn’t moved in yet.

“On the cupboard” you shout across the floor, hearing a pause before the clicking of his tongue.

Collecting a bottle of chamomile oil, taking a quick waft of it and a towel— you make your way to the bedroom yourself.

The scene upon entering is one which leaves your heart aching, Jayce fumbling with the top buttons of his shirt, seemingly a puzzle to his weary fingers.

Stepping forward, you lay the bought items on your bed, before laying your palms upon his own. His wide glittering eyes meet yours, as he pouts down in frustration. He lets his arms fall slack to his side as you gently undo the buttons.

„You’re still in your head“ you note, as you see his fingers twitch at his side, urging to do something.

„It feels wrong to rest“ he whispers frustrated, nursing his bottom lip between his teeth. He lets out a sigh as you press your fingers through the crevice of the open shirt, laying your warm palm upon his fuzzy chest.

It’s warm and rising as well as falling steadily, while his heart thumping beneath picks up speed when you coo at him.

„Jayce, pushing yourself like this, it’s taking from your ability to help when it might truly count..“

You’re meet with silence, your words might ring true within him tough he can’t accept them right now. He has a lot of people counting on him.

„It’s okay for now“ you move to turn, hands slipping of his chest.

Before your left hand can fall to your side he grasps for it, before pulling it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your wrist.

„Come here“ you shift to sit on the bed, tugging him along, his weight finding its place beside you.

„You can’t resolve all the cities troubles in one night“ you remind, his face a reflection of his inner turmoil, before he sighs and his shoulders sack.

„You’re right“ he smiles at you, though his eyebrows still mirror his distress.

Then his eyes shift onto the items laid upon the comforter. His face visibly flushing at the sight of the oil, knowing very well what its usage usually entails.

„I’m not sure if I could relax enough for—„ seeing where his thoughts are headed you are quick to lay your hand upon his thigh.

„No, that’s not what I had in mind— I was thinking of something else“ his initial thought rings in your mind, having thought about it earlier though sensing he might be in need of something else for now.

„And what’s that?“ he leans closer, you love him when he gets like this. It’s always such a stark contrast to when you both actually go at it, and he’s reduced to something more akin to a whining mutt.

„How about you lose the slacks and find out?“ you tease, shifting your form fully into the bed.

The pants are seemingly less of a challenge than the shirt was and in mere seconds Jayce’s frame clad in a lose linen shirt and a lose pair of underpants joins you.

„Those too“ you instruct, Jayce faltering as his gaze follows the point of your own, as you spread the towel you’ve brought earlier on the bed.

Gently he pries the underpants off, and no matter how many times you two do this it does not sway his face from flushing.

“Ah” he’s not only flush in his face you come to realize, but his cockhead has similarly flushed, a spurt of pre beading at the tip.

“My, Jayce, maybe I needn’t massage your insides anymore if a mere shoulder massage gets you just as excited” the remark gets him to gasp under his breath, furrowing his brows.

“I’m not opposed to either massages….” He counters, though its leverage falls short with his leaky cock out and twitching.

“Me neither” you remark, getting a hold of the oil, screwing open the cap to drizzle a decent amount onto your hand.

Jayce swallows sharply at the sight of the liquid pouring into your warm waiting palm, wishing it was an other substance.

You don’t need to lend him your pointed gaze to gauge his reaction. To most of Piltover who Jayce is, is by no means a mystery. Though only your sharp gaze truly can pick him apart and know him for what he truly is.

It pleases him to know end, knowing the power your attention holds over him.

Clasping your hands together you spread the oil across your skin, the scent wafting up your nostrils. When your hands are coated evenly you give Jayce an incline of your head.

His gaze is partially glazed over staring at your hands before meeting your gaze, the scent alone doesn’t fail to remind him off past intimacy, his cock already straining in his lose slacks.

“Please” it’s not exactly what you were hoping for, but what he pleads for is evident, when it’s punctuated with a jutting of his hips.

The warm digits of your fingers slowly take his twitching cock into their warm slick embrace. As you slowly nurse over the shaft, Jayce keeps the back of his hand over his face, his mouth agape in a silent moan.

Your left hand moves you the shaft, your palm doing circular motions over his leaking tip, whilst the other pays attention to his balls, gently coating them in a thin sheen of oil.

“I— can’t ah-“ Jayce is evidently overwhelmed, his face adopting one of your favorite expressions, with his eyes unfocused, face a flush and eyebrows furrowed.

Just when he starts to hump up into your hand you swiftly pull them both back. A whine bubbling from within Jayce’s chest as he heaves out a small sob.

The sound is not an uncommon indication for his pleasure to rough you lean over his lying frame to make sure he’s still with you.

“Hey there” you mumble

“Eh- hey” he responds, still breathing a bit heavily.

“Are you still okay with proceeding?” He finally meets your gaze, one you meet with a gentle smile. His own lips not quirking up but his eyes shimmer in determination as he eagerly nods.

“Good, now i need you to lay on your side like this” you pull back situating yourself on your side, Jayce slowly props himself up before paralleling your pose.

“Like this?”

“Yes, very good, a bit closer perhaps” his brow furrows a tad but he does as instructed without queries, his hand hovering above your hip.

Before he can move to do anything else you pull down your own sleep wear, your arousal very apparent.

Jayce’s eyes take you in immediately, his darkened gaze drinking in the sight of your wet twitching need, ultimately at arm’s length.

When his eyes drift up to your face again you’ve gotten a bit more oil into your hand, reaching down to spread it across your thighs.

Right about now he’s glad you took the time earlier to spread a towel on top of the blanket as he watched with bated breath how your thighs starts glistening much like his cock.

It’s probably about now that he realizes your intent, his face growing impossibly red as his lower lips starts shaking. He’s readily embarrassed, having admitted in a drunken stupor not long ago that he’s had a very similar fantasy akin to what you’ve constructed for a while now. With him being as busy as he is as of late, you’d both hadn’t come to have a lot of time to be intimate. Despite that, he had counted on you having forgotten about this particular confession, as he found himself embarrassed to have admitted it in a weakened state.

“Gods…” he whispers at the sight of your shining thighs so close to his pulsing need.

“You still in this sweetheart?” You murmur, leaning close to peek at the corner of his mouth.

He presses out a pathetic string of yes yes yes yes, as he tries chasing after your lips with his own.

“Good, put it between then.” You instruct gently, denying him of another kiss for now.

Instinctively Jayce juts his hip forward, the leaky tip of his cock pressing a brief kiss against the crevice between your thighs. You let out a sharp breath, gauging Jayce’s expression, as another whine slips from his lips.

“Slowly” you coo at him, laying your hand on his own, allowing him to find purchase against your waist.

Granted he tries to go slow, but pressing forth, the tight warmth of your slippery thighs, enclosing his throbbing cock, ultimate leads to an irrational thrust. Embracing his sensitive shaft fully.

Jayce head spins almost painfully as his thoughts wholly become consumed by the sensation of you.

“Wo— I- mu-ch better than anticipated…” he sobs and you see small tears pearl at the corner of his eyes.

Your hands reach up to cradle his cheeks as well as disperse the oncoming droplets.

“You’re doing amazing” the praise makes the hard appendage between your thighs throb, Jayce pulling at your hips to press his cock further through your thighs. His cock head jutting against your own arousal at the sudden movement.

“Jayce—“ you warn, when he burrows his face in your neck, his lips molding against your jaw to a leave a trail of apology kisses.

“‘M sorry” he sobs, and you gently embrace him, drawing small circles on his back.

“It’s okay” you whisper, as you start moving your hips back and forth gently. A shiver wreaks through his frame, as he buries his nose against the crock of your neck.

“There you are” you say pressing your thighs together putting pressure on jayces shaft.

The action makes him grow rigid as he Pulls you impossibly close. Spurts of his release pairing the inside of your thighs, bursting out below your ass.

Jayce tosses his head back, and you take the chance to nibble at his jaw, littering it with kisses as he rides out his orgasm high.

He suppresses a string on sobs, his face tear streaked as you part your thighs. His hand shots out, pressing it back down.

“Please” you stare at him, noting the need to just bask in this, your, warmth a bit more.

“Okay, we can stay like this for now”

You look behind yourself taking note of the mess

“Really glad I thought of a towel, such a mess” you playfully tsk, turning to Jayce as his face grows redder.

“It was definitely worth it” he utters “I think I wanna pull out now”

You slowly raise your thigh, as Jayce pulls back in tandem, falling onto his back.

Then shifts onto his side again facing from you, you’re familiar with the gesture, pulling around his frame from the back as he lets out a very content sigh.

“I need to tell you of fantasies while pissed beyond comprehension more often”

“You can tell me anytime, Jayce” he cuddles back into your frame, you pressing your lips against his shoulder blade.

“I know”

[topazadine]

Writing Post Masterlist

All my posts about writing - plus some I absolutely loved by other writers.

Masterlists by Other People (all good)

"Writing Tips Masterpost" by @deception-united - Deception-United has an incredibly wealth of resources available, far more comprehensive and detailed than mine. Go check it out!

"WQA Post Master Lists" by @writingquestionsanswered - Another fantastic and wonderfully comprehensive resource that covers damn near everything you need to know about writing. Genuinely one of the best free resources on writing that you could find on the internet.

General Advice for a Happy Writing Life

"The Myth of the Martyr Artist" - An incredibly important post, perhaps my most important one ever, that discusses why mental illness is a burden, not a benefit. I have no idea why this even needs to be said, but it does, apparently.

"Building Self-Esteem as a Writer" - Why you gotta be nice to yourself. You gotta.

"Identifying bad writing advice" - Warning signs that the post you are reading kinda sucks and you should click off.

"Advice to Beginner Writers: The Good, the Bad, and the Unpleasant" - How long it takes to become a good writer, what to focus on when learning, and why fanfic is such a useful tool.

"Mindset Shifts: Fanfiction -> Original Fiction" - What fanfic writers should know about deciding to take on original characters and stories.

"Defeating Protracted Writer's Block" - What to do when you find it impossible to write for days, weeks, or months at a time.

"Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified" - Explorations of five mindsets that can set younger writers back as they learn their craft, including overcompetitiveness, overdescribing, and fearing they're "too old."

"Good Motivations for Continuing to Write" - Why it is crucial to have a passion for writing beyond fame and fortune.

"Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)" - Things you really don't want to hear, but need to be said. A bit of tough love, including the insignificance of ideas, the cold hard truth about how non-writers react to your writing, and the essentiality of having a well-rounded life.

"Why Mindfulness Is a Key Practice for Writers" - On the need to slow down and let our brain rest - plus some options that are categorically not sitting there in dead silence (boring).

"Writing When Happy" - Wherein I hijack someone's question to discuss the Myth of the Martyr Artist, why we might self-limit because of it, and how to do the impossible: write when we're happy.

"The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity" by @bookishdiplodocus - Excellent advice on how enjoying the process and reminding yourself that writing is supposed to be fun can help you stay motivated and productive, even when your brain is not cooperating.

"The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces" by @nicolkoutoulakiauthor - I've discussed before how crucial it is to have a healthy self-esteem when writing, but Nicol does it even better here. Nicol also includes some excellent reframing tactics so you can stay motivated.

Generalish Writing Advice (multifactorial)

"Signs That You Will Probably Finish Your Writing Project" - An analysis of the mindset that leads to results, and encouragement on how to develop them.

"'How Do I Start Writing?'" (Or; A Psychoanalysis of Newbie Writer Fears) - Inspired by the dozens of Reddit posts that ask this exact same thing, often with useless responses. So why do people ask this? I offer my theory.

"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!" - A consideration of the many reasons you might find it difficult to get started on your precious idea-baby.

"How to elevate your writing style with 6 simple hacks" - Information about how to develop a prettier prose style, catch errors, develop good dialogue, and focus on brevity.

"How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide" by @writer-logbook - Especially great information on why reading widely is so helpful for your craft!

"Some Writing Advice" by @whispers-whump - Especially great discussion of why you shouldn't write what you mean.

"Practical Writing Advice Part 2" by @so-many-ocs - Does what it says on the tin. Simple, easy-to-follow advice that can break you out of writer's block.

"25 Prose Tips for Writers" by @thewriteadviceforwriters - I absolutely love the emphasis on sound and harmony here. As someone whose entire book series revolves around the magic of poetry, of course I think this is incredibly important advice!

"Pacing and Show Don't Tell" by @mylordshesacactus - Two for one deal! First, learn more about why pacing is important; then, look at some examples of the classic advice "show, don't tell." The post does a great job on breaking down what show don't tell actually means and what is not a violation of this guideline so that newer writers aren't confused.

Writing tools

"How to Build a Sustainable Writing Habit Through SCIENCE (Fuck Off, NaNoWriMo)" - Why NaNoWriMo doesn't actually motivate young writers and how to do better through a spreadsheet (yes, really, a spreadsheet). It also explains the importance of intrinsic motivation!

"'I've Outlined Too Much and Now I Can't Write!' (Or: the Double Outline Method for Overanxious Plotters)" - Some of us tend to go absolutely ham on our outlines, to the point where they're practically their own books. But then we also tend to not actually do the writing attached to said outline. Does this mean outlining is useless? Of course not. My method lets you have your outline and eat it too. (.... Wait.)

"'How Do I Make Myself Start Writing?' (Tips to Get the Damn Thing Done) - In this post, I provide a step-by-step guide to start writing, including a few tools to help improve motivation and concentration.

"How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)" - Eliminating distractions and forcing your brain to write is key to getting more done. Here, I explain how you might be limiting yourself by too much thinking and not enough doing.

Worldbuilding

"Stop Making Everything So Damn Complicated!" - Why fantasy (and scifi) does not need to be dizzyingly intricate to be enjoyable.

"How to Kick Ass at Worldbuilding" - I offer some suggestions on how to create a grounded and interesting world that will not bore your readers, based on real life examples.

"Grounded vs. Airy Fantasy" by @aethersea - Excellent breakdown of different levels of groundedness in fantasy and why it's important to understand your own approach.

"Fantasy Guide to Building a Culture" by @inky-duchess - Thorough and methodical analysis of what can create a compelling fantasy culture, including those things that many fail to think about when writing.

"Writing tip - Research" by @pygmi-cygni - Fantastic assessment of the importance of research, including for fantasy stories. As Pygmi-Cygni said, a lot of people claim that they don't need to do any research for fantasy novels, which isn't true! Any parallels to IRL need to be realistic, or you will lose credibility.

Plotting

"How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method" - If you're sick of saving felines who should really figure their own shit out, it's time to head to Plot Mountain. In this post, I offer you an alternative to the formulaic "Save the Cat" and "Hero's Journey" which also incorporates tension, characterization, and forward momentum.

"Avoiding Melodrama In Your Writing" - The most annoying all things: melodrama. My least favorite thing. Do not do it. I will show you how.

"How to Find a Plot When All You Have is Characters and Setting" by @rheas-chaos-motivation - This is a common problem for many writers, when you have cool characters or an intriguing setting. This short post can help you kickstart your ideas for how to create an intriguing plot that has built-in tension.

Description

"Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions" - Key factors to think about when describing other characters or settings from your POV.

"Description, Momentum, and Tension; Or, How Not to Bore a Reader" - Why, when, and where to put description so that people don't skip over it. Hopefully.

"Writing Notes: Seasons" - Each season has both benefits and downsides. In this post, we look at the negatives and positive aspects of each so you can decide how a particular season may strengthen your themes - plus some descriptions to help inspire you.

"Writing Advice: Spicy Mundanity" - Wherein I explain how to stop having boring descriptions by packing in characterization.

"How to Write Smut?" by @unfriendlywriter - Wonderful examples of how to write heartstopping smut.

"How to pull off descriptions" by @fictionstudent - Fictionstudent has a ton of great posts, both about film analysis and about the art of writing. I especially liked this one because it discusses how important perspective is for descriptions and the importance of filling in the details as a character would rather than just throwing it all at the reader at one time.

"How to avoid White Room Syndrome" by @writerthreads - Fantastic and focused advice on how to ensure you're offering readers just enough setting to help them envision the world.

Characterization

"Writing Relatable Characters; Or, Using Human Failures to Your Advantage" - Explaining how you can use character flaws and human needs to create a relatable character. Also explains the basic development of a plot, which is about equilibrium.

"How NOT to Write a Character" - Wherein I give you some examples of annoying characters we want to punt off a cliff so you can watch yourself.

"Writing Strong Female Characters" - Why you should give your female characters a secret goal, as well as how to avoid common 'strong female' stereotypes.

"Writing Compelling Trauma in Fiction: Dos and Don'ts" - How to avoid melodrama and create intriguing emotional wounds for characters.

"Quality Assurance Checks for Character Development" - Thought exercises that can help you differentiate characters, prune down unnecessary characters, develop true chemistry between LI and MC, and avoid having too many POVs.

"Developing Character Agency (Or; Cutting the Plot Strings)" - A discussion of character agency and how to ensure your characters are not bound by the narrative.

"Writing Notes: Thought Distortions" by @literaryvein-reblogs - Some psychological concepts you can use in your writing to add depth to characters.

"Questions about your character’s perspective on love and relationships" by @luna-azzurra - Excellent questions that can help you delve into your character's attachment style, what baggage they may bring to a current relationship, and how to create conflict through mentality.

"How to Write a Confession of Love," also by luna-azzurra - Perfect discussion of how to create tension, the utility of setting, not making it perfect, and including the other character's response.

Revisions

"Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability" - Examples of fixes for four common issues: double describing, long sentences, overexplaining, and head hopping.

"How to Avoid Purple Prose" - A critical part of the revision process is making sure your writing is clear and balanced. In this post, I show a blatant example of purple prose and provide suggestions on how to make a more elegant passage.

"Differential Diagnosis When Your Writing Is Getting Worse" by @ariaste - Fantastic explanation by a professional writer about why you might feel like your writing is getting worse and what to do about it.

"How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3" by @physalian - Physalian's whole blog has some excellent advice, so definitely give it a look!

"How to Improve Your Writing" - Also by literaryvein-reblogs, this offers some excellent exercises to help with sentence-level issues, such as modifiers, parallelism, and details.

Publishing

"How to promote your book online : a discussion about social media (and few tips)" by writer-logbook - Great tips about how to get more interest in your book. I especially enjoyed the emphasis on patience and consistency. Writer-logbook has some excellent info overall about the nitty-gritty of writing, so I definitely recommend poring through their blog in general. (That's why they're included here twice!)

"A masterclass in how not to market your books, in one singular tweet" - Wherein I help you derive lessons from an abysmal tweet by an author.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 1: Mindset Edition)" - I talk about how being delulu is not the solulu, that yes marketing is important (even if it is horrible), and how a bit of self-confidence can go a long way.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 2: Presentation Edition)" - Graphics and covers and blurbs! Learn about them. Do not do what I did.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 3: Ads and Reviews Edition)" - Why you have to get reviews. You gotta. And you gotta demand them. Shake those reviews out of your readers. You'll thank me later.

Specific Research Advice

"Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook" by @hayatheauthor - A thorough review of different assassination methods, including a section discussing common assassination methods by region!

"How to Write Someone in a Wheelchair" - A group effort! This is a reblog chain discussing body language in manual wheelchairs, the mechanics of power wheelchairs, wheelchair propulsion methods, and a reminder that just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't walk short distances.

"Writing Research Notes: Caves" - Oh caves how I love them. Caves. Let me tell you about them if you want to write about caves. Blessed.

"Writing Research Notes: Horses" - A beginner's guide to horse mindsets, whether horses like working, approaching horses, how to ride, and tips on training.

"Writing Research Notes: Bipolar Disorder" - Written by me, a writer with bipolar disorder! This shares basic facts about bipolar, offers a list of symptoms you can use, and cautions you against spreading misinformation through poor characterization or myths.

"Writing Research Notes: Politics" - I provide a quick overview about governments and international relations, based off my suffering while getting an MA in International Relations.

"Stop Doing This in Injury Fics!" by @pygmi-says-hi - Discusses some common errors when writing whump/angst. The fever part was especially helpful for me!

"Writing US Military Characters" by @lookbluesoup - An explanation of the habits and mentality of US military characters. Many of these were quite helpful for my fantasy military characters, so you can get a lot of mileage out of these for soldiers in other militaries too!

Little Funsies

"What Painting Style Is Your Writing?" - A short exploration of different writing styles to help you better understand your own approach.

I'll be adding onto this as I continue to scroll through my old likes and, of course, as I find more resources.

[tkomptgoedluv]

tear you apart.

pt.1 | pt. 2 here

grumpycafeworkervampire! joost x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, internetcafe & vampire au, very much the ‘he hates everyone but her’ trope, even more so the ‘who did this to you?’ trope, reader’s boyfriend is an asshole and deserves everything he gets, joostie has a crush and it’s bad, hurt angst and comfort all in one, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 5,039.

warnings: descriptions of an un-specific mental illness, light stalking, cheating, descriptions of self harm, mentions of & scenes of DV, violence, gore, rpf.

notes: hello!! thank you guys so much for waiting on this even though it’s been over a month since we all lost our minds a little over vampire joost. i’m very proud of this one, even if the ending is kind of rushed, and i may or may not have already planned out parts 2 & 3 as well so please lemme know if you want a series out of this! (if you don’t say yes then juno might kill you btw). this fic also comes with a MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING so please read at your own risk and stay safe!

love you all lots — enjoy!! 💋

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

the whole point of joost setting up his little internet cafe was that he needed something simple, for a while. something quiet, something normal. he needed to get away from his life with the band, and away from all of the blood and guts that came right along with it. for once, he wanted to be invisible.

that’s what the cafe was supposed to do for him; become an escape, of sorts. he wanted to spend all day, everyday, sat behind that desk of his, with his earphones in his ears and a magazine in his hands. if someone needed help with one of the computers or something, then he’d do so, but only with a roll of his eyes and a scowl on his face. anything more than that and he’d flip them off, flash his fangs at them maybe, and laugh as they’d run out the door, screaming.

he didn’t want to talk to these people, his customers — a lot of them he actually couldn’t stand. they were messy and far too loud for his liking, always leaving their rubbish on the floor and shouting at each other. but at the very least they were simple, so he could handle teaching them how to find youtube and cleaning up after them if it meant that they’d all leave him alone. besides, he still had his ways of disposing of the ones that just wouldn’t behave themselves.

and then you had to come along, didn’t you?

you, with your big sad eyes and your soft, soft smile that was such a rarity to see. this plan of his, you were ruining it and you didn’t even know it.

joost could never admit it to himself, but he was a little infatuated with you. all you ever did was just sit in the corner, as far away from everyone else as you could possibly get, and stare at the computer screen until your eyes would grow too heavy. it made you such a stark contrast to the rest of them that joost couldn’t help but feel something towards you, even if he wouldn’t show it.

he found himself quickly learning your routine, making a note of how you only ever came in at night, no earlier than nine o’clock, and always left before the early hours of the morning. he had no choice but to notice how you always had the same heartbroken look on your face, with red-rimmed eyes and a frown pulling down at your lips. and he could never ignore how you only ever seemed to wear clothes that were at least a few sizes too big for you, always drowning in the fabric of old hoodies and sweatpants.

all of these little things that he couldn’t stop himself from knowing about you…well it was all a little bit weird, wasn’t it? because joost, he was yet to speak to you, to even acknowledge you, really. only when your back was turned would he ever dare to glance in your direction, and even then it was quick, only ever from the corner of his eye.

whatever this was, this thing joost had for you, it was starting to blur the lines between a normal, human crush and borderline stalking. that was why no matter what, it could never be anything more than just a few glances here and there. no matter what, he had to stay away.

joost wanted simple, and you just weren’t that.

but like all of his other plans, you had to go and ruin that one too, because then you started to smell.

not of anything bad, of course, just of blood. and to joost, everyone smelt like blood to some extent; it was one of the many consequences of his particular…lifestyle. he should’ve been used to it by then. the sweet, sweet smell of you shouldn’t have almost knocked him off of his chair when you walked in that day.

at first he just assumed it was nature taking its course; you were a girl after all, and it explained the constant grimace on your face. but after a week, the smell hadn’t gone away — now four months later, it was still there. if anything, it was only getting stronger.

like tonight, there you were, sat in your usual spot right by the window, and joost could smell it. he could barely concentrate on reading his magazine the way it was making his head spin and his heart race. for a human, a scent like that wasn’t normal; despite his better judgment, joost found himself worrying about you.

even more so when you started to cry at your desk.

your head was down and your hands were hiding your face, muffling the sound. no one else around you could hear it, they were too engrossed in playing their silly little video games to really notice. but joost wasn’t like them, was he? he could hear it. he could hear it over the sound of a ‘SUM 41’ song playing on full blast in his ears, in fact.

it made him freeze in his seat, his hands grip the pages of his ‘SPICE’ magazine a little too tightly. then he looked over at you only because he knew that you wouldn’t see it, and caught a glimpse of your shoulders shaking slightly. the sight alone made his eyebrows crease and his knuckles turn white, but it was your small gasp of breath that made him growl.

everyone’s head turned at the sound as the click-clacking of the keyboards ceased, and suddenly joost had sixteen pairs of eyes all staring at him. the only one that hadn’t looked up was you, who merely flinched at the sudden noise as you finally lowered your hands, only to wipe your nose and go back to staring at your computer screen.

in slow movements, joost slammed his magazine down and kicked his feet up off of his desk, muttering a low ‘we’re closing, everyone get out.’ with a cigarette still hanging from his lips. when nobody moved he rose from his chair and stubbed out his cig into his garfield-shaped ashtray, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.

that was all it took to get everyone up, shoving their shit into their pockets, and heading out the door. you went to stand as well, having already pulled your hood well up over your head in preparation for the hard-falling rain outside. but you stopped when you heard the guy at the reception desk clear his throat not just once but twice, his attention only on you as everybody else made their exits.

“not you, grey hoodie. you stay.”

joost could hear a ringing in his ears from how silent the room became once the last person had left, the cafe door swinging shut behind them, it’s sign now reading ‘closed: come again soon!’

there was a certain…hesitation behind the way that he moved closer to you. behind the way that he grabbed a new cigarette from his pack, letting it dangle between his lips as he pulled up a chair next to you. the absolute last thing that he wanted was to wind up scaring you, somehow, even if the look on your face told him that you already were.

joost could see you shaking, could see all of the tears welling up in your eyes no matter how many times you tried to blink them away. he could hear your heart hammering away inside your chest, the rush of warm blood inside your veins. for once, maybe for even the first time, joost was starting to regret having the reputation that he did.

“i know i’m not exactly known for my ‘outstanding customer service’, but i just want to make sure that you’re okay.” he paused only to take a drag of his cigarette, the ash falling down and dirtying the denim of his jeans. “are you okay?”

no, you really weren’t.

without a word you turned away to press the ‘on’ button of your computer screen, its cold, blue light casting a dark shadow across your face. it showed him exactly what you had been looking at before you’d tried to leave, having forgotten to properly log out first. whilst the receptionist leaned forward and squinted at the screen, you let your head hang low to hide the fresh tears that burned along your waterline.

you’d been scrolling through facebook rather aimlessly when you came across the picture. at first, you thought that it was just an old one someone had reshared simply for nostalgia sake; one of those ‘on this day five years ago’ type things. then you had seen that it had only been posted an hour ago, so you tried convincing yourself that it wasn’t actually him in the photo — even though he’d been tagged in the fucking thing.

whether you could accept it or not, it was very much him. it was him sucking on the neck of your best friend, at a party he insisted that you couldn’t go to.

“what exactly am i looking at here?”

but to joost, it was just a picture of what he guessed was a house party. the girls were half dressed, the guys were clutching onto their beer cans, and nobody in sight looked sober. not exactly something worth crying over, he thought.

“that’s uh, that’s my boyfriend right there…and that’s my best friend next to him.”

he didn’t say anything for a minute; he didn’t really know what to say. joost just kept glancing back and forth between you and the computer screen, with his lips ever so slightly parted and the cigarette between his fingertips long forgotten about. he understood it now, and couldn’t blame you for any of the tears running down your cheeks anymore.

“for what it’s worth, i’m sorry. dude’s a fucking scumbag for doing that to you.”

you merely chuckled, the laugh coming out all dry and hoarse. “you have no idea.”

it was a small comment, maybe just your own way of saying ‘yeah, i know’, but something about your choice of words made joost frown. he didn’t like the gut feeling it gave him, nor did he like the way he saw you flinch again, this time at the way he raised his hand, though only to toss his now burnt-out cigarette into the bin.

it was making him think, making him realise that, that definitely wasn’t the first time you’d reacted to something so minuscule like that. how even the slightest of movements normally had you ducking your head and cowering, with your shoulders all bunched up by your ears. and it was making him wonder if there was maybe another reason behind the clothes that you wore, besides how you just ran a little colder than the average person.

the crease in joost’s eyebrows deepened as he swivelled his seat more to face you rather than the computer, and rested a careful hand on your knee. as you looked up, he swapped his frown for a smile that you just about managed to mirror.

“i’m here if you wanna talk about anything, okay? i’m joost.”

when you told him your name back, he acted as though he hadn’t know what it was already.

the sudden ringing of your phone cut through the soft silence like a jagged knife, the sound of your shitty, pirated ‘AFI’ ringtone bringing a genuine smile to joost’s face as he got up to walk away. it was merely a formality at this point, stepping away to give someone a bit of ‘privacy’ whilst they took a phone call. joost could be all the way across the street and he’d still hear it, whether he was trying to or not.

although admittedly, this was one he was purposefully trying to eavesdrop on. he caught a glimpse of the caller ID — saw the bright red love heart next to the name ‘levi’. since it matched the name tagged in the photos, it was a safe assumption to presume it was the boyfriend calling.

he hoped to hear the guy grovel, begging on his knees for your forgiveness or at the very least offering you some kind of explanation. anything to prove this gut feeling of his wrong. but even the shouting from the other end of the line made joost wince, his palms starting to sweat as he began tidying up the other desks.

it started out as just pure name calling, accusing you of facebook-stalking his friends and not trusting him, that you were ‘fucking crazy’ and a ‘stupid little bitch’. then it became about how he’d already made it clear that you weren’t to go to the cafe tonight, not under any circumstances, and he could see online that you were.

joost really did try to busy himself, tried to grit his teeth and bear with what he was hearing this asshole scream at you. he wasn’t supposed to have been listening, anyway. he was supposed to have been staying away, like he was always meant to.

but he just couldn’t take it though, could he? he couldn’t handle hearing this boyfriend of yours threaten to beat you black and blue, and not for the first time this week. he had to storm across the room and snatch the phone right out of your hands, flipping it shut to disconnect the call. honestly, he probably would’ve smashed the fucking thing had you not taken it back from him and slipped it into your trouser pocket.

“tell me he didn’t mean that.”

you weren’t given a chance to scold him for his eavesdropping, even though you weren’t entirely sure how he was able to hear your conversation in the first place. joost was already staring you down, his arms crossed and chest heaving as he towered over you. you could almost feel the anger he radiated; see the darkening of his eyes and flare of his nostrils.

it was no wonder that you couldn’t look at him; you didn’t have the guts to.

“tell me he doesn’t fucking hit you.”

you couldn’t.

you couldn’t lie to him like that. you weren’t quite sure why, you were lying to everybody else in your life about it. he wasn’t the first to ask you that kind of question, and he wouldn’t be the last, either. but you just didn’t have it in you to try and feed him the same old bullshit that you always fed anyone else that asks you about it. chances were, he wouldn’t have believed it anyway.

so instead, you showed him. still with your eyes focused on the wall behind him, you peeled off that god-awful hoodie and let it fall to the floor, leaving you to shiver in a thin, white t-shirt. it exposed each and every single one of the bruises that levi had given you, both old and new, as well as those half-a-dozen little cuts that you’d given yourself.

you felt joost’s fingertips trail along every single one of the marks, gently brushing along the skin of your arms and only stopping once he reached your wrists. he hesitated then, though only because he didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you already had yourself. it was with such a delicate hold that he took your arms in his hands, turning them over in the light just so that he could see it all a little easier.

“this wasn’t him, was it?”

you already knew what he was referring to and so you shook your head, still too scared to meet his eyes. if you had, you would’ve seen his own tears welling up in his.

this was what he had been smelling. all those spots of blood pooling underneath your skin, slowly turning into bruises. the thin, red lines that ran up and down each one of your arms; some old and scabbed over, some not. all of it, every single mark, was why he could always smell so much blood on you.

joost didn’t even know he still knew how to cry, it had been so long. he hadn’t shed a tear in years; not since way before the…change. and you were the reason that streak was broken now, because he soon found himself dropping your arms to wipe the wet from his face, further smudging the dark eyeliner around his eyes.

“fuck, okay, we’re gonna…there’s a pull-out bed in the back, we’re gonna make you a bed for the night — for as long as you need. you’re not going back there.”

he was pacing around as he rambled, wiping the snot from his nose as he did so. by the time you’d pulled your hoodie back on he had a whole plan laid out for you, the kind that had you moving into the cafe, sleeping in the staff room, never to see your boyfriend again.

it was getting harder and harder to believe that this was the same guy that you’d heard so many horror stories about. all the gossip, the whispers, the rumours, they all painted joost out to be some kind of monster. yet here he was in tears over you, doing laps of the room with his hands pulling at his hair in a panic, all because he knew your secret now. knew that you’d been dealing with enough monsters of your own to know that he wasn’t one.

“why do you care, joost?” your voice betrayed you as you spoke because with each word it waivered, coming out all cracked and broken until you could barely say anything at all. “you don’t know me.”

“i do! i mean, i know enough to know that a guy like that is gonna fucking kill you one day and that can’t happen, okay? it can’t. do you understand that?”

in a moment of weakness he made his way back over to you and placed his hands on either side of your face, gently tilting your head up so you had no choice but to look at him. under the warm, yellow lights of the cafe you could see every ounce of fear in his eyes, feel the shake in his hands as he tucked loose strands of hair behind your ears.

“i’m sorry. i know that this is a lot and you don’t really know me like that but i need you to trust me, lieverd. i’m gonna keep you safe, i promise.”

just like that, every single one of those little promises that he’d made himself about staying away from you, gone.

you found yourself nodding before you’d really even given a thought to what it was you were actually agreeing to. just as long as joost kept looking at you like that, you’d probably agree to anything.

“okay, okay, that’s good. just…stay here, alright? i’ll be right back.”

you blinked, and you were alone.

the staff room door was open ajar now, with a dimmer, yellow light spilling out. there was a lot of faint rustling around; a few little bangs and crashes followed by some muffled swearing. besides that and the rain hitting against the cafe windows, it was silent — almost eerily so.

it gave you the space to actually try to understand what it was that was happening. joost was back there setting up that bed for you, turning the cafe's staff room into a makeshift bedroom, just as he promised. you wouldn’t be going home tonight, not tomorrow, maybe not ever. as for levi? it was hard to wrap your head around the fact that you weren’t ever going to see him again.

you took a seat back at your desk, closing each one of your tabs and logging out of whatever websites that you needed to. myspace, youtube, facebook; you had to stop and stare when that fucking picture popped up again.

calling her your best friend was a stretch, she was always more his friend than she ever was yours, but still, it stung. besides joost now, she was the only one who knew your secret, who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and seen him hit you so hard it knocked you clean off your feet. she still convinced you to stay, giving you the exact same excuses for it that levi did.

he was always stressed and going through something that you just wouldn’t understand, and you were always the one making him feel worse, so it really couldn’t be his fault then, could it?

you were just about to close that very last tab, the cursor hovering over the big red ‘x’ in the top right-hand corner, when the front door swung back open. the sudden ding of the electronic doorbell made you jump, as did the bang of the door slamming against the wall. you heard his voice before you saw him standing there on the worn-out welcome mat, soaking wet and seething.

“i fucking knew you were here.”

levi.

even from where you were sitting you could smell the alcohol on him, see the glazed-over look in his bloodshot eyes. peaking out from the collar of his jacket were small, dark hickies dotted all across his neck and there was a faint smudge of pink smeared across his bottom lip. he hadn’t even had the decency to clean himself up, to wipe the last speck of her literal fucking lipstick from off of his face.

“you little fucking bitch, what did i say to you, huh? i told you to stay home. why is it that you can’t ever fucking listen?”

“i’m not doing this with you, levi.”

he laughed at what you said, more so chuckled, darkly underneath his breath. he always found it funny when you tried to talk back to him, refusing to do whatever it was he demanded or throwing any of his endless insults right back at him. it didn’t happen often because when it did, you’d pay for it.

“oh yeah? you’re not gonna ‘do’ this with me? who the fuck do you think you are to say that to me?” when you didn’t say anything else and turned away from him, deciding to instead face the now black screen of your computer, he continued. “cmon, get the fuck up, we’re going home.”

you didn’t move. you focused on your breathing, focused on the feeling of the grey cotton between your fingers as you played with the fraying threads of your hoodie’s sleeves.

“i’m not talking to myself here. i said get up!”

levi’s voice bellowed from all the way across the room and you could’ve sworn that it made the keyboards shake. still, you stayed exactly where you were, making it clear to him that you weren’t going to be going anywhere tonight — especially not home, especially not with him.

being ignored like that was almost worse than anything you could’ve possibly said back to him. you've never done that before, never tried to disobey him quite so outrightly. you had always been one to break as soon as he’d raise his voice, a shadow of a smirk curling the corners of his lips as he’d dare you to say whatever it was again.

only this time, you weren’t saying anything at all, and he really didn’t like that.

his strides over to you were so quick that you didn’t have any time at all to react before you were being yanked out of your seat and dragged back over to the door. you were tripping over all of the other chairs as you tried to pull your arm free, begging for him to stop and to let you go whilst he dug his nails deeper into the flesh of your forearm.

it hadn’t even occurred to you that the background noise of joost moving furniture around couldn’t be heard anymore, that the staff room door was no longer closed ajar and instead now wide open. it hadn’t even occurred to you, not until levi was being teared away from you, leaving behind a small rip in your hoodie and faint claw marks in your skin.

from where you were standing now, you couldn’t see much anymore. tall, broad shoulders became the barrier that separated you from levi, keeping you hidden away from him. you weren’t sure how long joost had been back there listening, how he was able to intervene so quickly or how he had the strength to toss your boyfriend almost to the other side of the room. you were just grateful for it, for him, and tightly clutched onto one of his arms so that he couldn’t disappear on you again.

“woah, what the fuck is this? who the fuck are you?”

levi had knocked into a couple of desks as he stumbled but eventually found his footing, his leather jacket hanging off of his shoulders from where joost had yanked at it. he shrugged it back on, eyes glued onto and glaring at the man you were cowering behind. neither of you expected him to start laughing like how he did, a deep, bitter chuckle that somehow made the air around you feel colder.

“so this is what she’s been doing here all this time, huh? been fucking around with some freak behind my back?”

“get out.”

there was no laughter in joost’s voice, no humour peaking through the cracks of his expression. there was only a silent begging behind his anger, a slight pleading in his words because joost already knew how this would end if levi didn’t turn on his heel and run.

but levi just wasn’t one to listen, was he?

instead he made a beeline for what was now your bedroom, supposedly, with no regard for the ‘staff only’ sign that was stuck to the door. without even taking a full step inside he could see the sofa bed that had been pulled out for you, decorated with scattered cushions and a messed up, old white duvet. it didn’t matter that it actually wasn’t what it looked like, because he’d already made his mind up and seeing that was all the ‘proof’ that he needed.

so levi wasn’t laughing anymore as he slowly turned around, now in a position where you were in his full view. he could see how you had yourself wrapped around joost’s arm, almost hugging it, and was starting to shrink under his gaze. he stared you both down for a moment before he locked eyes with you, his teeth gritted and jaw twitching.

“you fucking whore, you’re so fucking dead -”

he’d charged at you with one hand balled up into a fist and the other stretched out, a single finger pointing right at you. you jumped back and away from joost, your arms up and shielding your head as you turned away and readied yourself to feel it. a hard knee to the stomach, a sharp pull at your hair, something.

you only moved again when you heard a small whimper; an impossibly pathetic sound that you’d never heard before, but one that only levi could have made. you lowered your arms and raised your head, and immediately crashed into the desk behind you, choking on a cry that became lodged in your throat.

joost; sweet, misunderstood joost had his hand plunged inside levi’s chest, his fingers wrapped around and squeezing at his heart. those once soft blue eyes of his were now a deep, glowing shade of red, and as he grinned, you caught a glimpse of two long, sharp fangs. blood stained his lips and dribbled down his chin as he took a chunk out of levi’s neck, swallowing down every last piece of flesh and spitting out the odd little bone.

and he started to moan into it with each large gulp that he took, becoming so lost in the pleasure of it all that for just a moment, he seemed to forget that you were there. it had just been so long since he’d last indulged like this — feeling that warm rush of blood slide down the back of his throat, the heavy pulse of his prey slowly growing weaker and weaker.

joost didn’t stop until whatever was left of levi’s head was in one hand and his still heart was in the other, his body already turning cold at his feet. he easily could have stayed there for a little while longer, gone in for seconds and thirds perhaps, when he finally hears you. he hears you choking on your tears, on the single breath that you were holding.

you hadn’t been able to look away even though you had so desperately wanted to; you could feel the image of levi standing there all helpless, his mouth bobbing up and down as he tried so hard to scream out, burning into your eyes.

“lieverd?…”

his voice was so gentle, sounding almost frightened, and yet you still jumped when joost finally spoke. he was just standing there staring at you, eyes all wide, with blood smeared across his face and splattered across his button-up shirt. even as he stood above the body parts of your boyfriend, joost somehow looked small now, like a dog that had been found chained to a fence for a few too many days.

for every step that he tried to take towards you, you took another five back, carefully inching your way closer and closer towards the front door as you did so. you could see it start to click in his head, the welling up of tears in his eyes as he glanced back and forth between you and the door.

“no no no, please, please don’t do that. i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry. please, i’m not gonna hurt you, please don’t go.”

joost took another step forward and you shrieked, bumping hard into the wall behind you, scraping your elbow against the brick. you hadn’t needed to say anything after that, hadn’t needed to beg for him to let you go because you watched him recoil, his hands held up in surrender.

you took one last look at levi, at what was left of him.

“fuck, i didn’t…i’m so sorry, lieverd.”

and you ran, without ever looking back.

[tarotofhope]

PAC : Your Year 2025- Advice and Predictions.

(Please Read My Pinned post *IMPORTANT NOTE* before selecting a Pile.

❤️ All dividers on this blog are provided by @uzmacchiato ❤️

Masterlist | Paid Services

Please Note: It's just a general reading so please take the finances part of the reading with a grain of salt just like other parts of this reading. Take your decisions wisely, I, @tarotofhope and @tarotforpeace will not be responsible if you make decisions based on my readings. I have not included health(though I wanted to first) in here because I'm afraid if I mention any serious things like surgery and illness, you guys might take that seriously and also because it's a general reading, I don't want that to happen. Deck Used- Osho Zen Tarot

Pick an Image by meditating and selecting the image you feel called to. You can be attracted towards more than 1 image. If you are not able to select maybe this reading isn't for you.

⪩⪨ Pile - 1 ⪩⪨

LOVE -

Cards: The Miser(4 of Pentacles)

You'd like to keep a good distance from love this year. Either you recently came out of a relationship(most probably last year), or you've always remained single(by choice or not). There is a sense of fear with the 4 of Pentacles here, that the person may turn out toxic, and if this happens, you might lose your precious peace of mind and soul, somehow they might become an hindrance, so you try to stay away from love as much as possible. For people who are single by choice, especially, you guys really enjoy being single. For people who are already in a relationship, you guys are staying private and reserved as much as possible.

CAREER -

Cards: Past Lives(The Moon)

You guys are being advised to not let your past hold you back, if there were any negative experiences in your last job, it's not going to repeat itself. You're also being told to make good use of your talents(with past lives, It makes me think of Ketu which is the South Node, which talks about talents and gifts you inherited from your past lives). You don't need to hide yourself anymore. Get out there and show what you're capable of.

FAMILY -

Cards: Morality(Queen of Swords) clarified by Suppression(10 of Wands).

Your family might have burdened you with a lot of responsibility and stress, like somehow your family is the reason for your low self-esteem, lack of confidence, bad mental health, any or all of these. Somebody's pushing you to go over your limits. Someone has too high expectations from you. But this year, you'll find the courage to stay back and fight for yourself. If you don't like to do something, you'll say so. Just because someone is family, you'll not allow them to take advantage of you anymore.

FRIENDSHIP -

Cards: Trust(Knight of Cups)

You'll be placing your focus on trust this year, in friendships. Unless you find someone you can really trust, you're not going to make new friends, which also means that you're also going to analyse your current and old friends' behavioural patterns. You might want to leave some old mean/toxic friends behind because of this. Though I cannot say whether your friends are actually toxic or not, it might just be your perception of them as per your circumstances. Trust has become your main criteria for accepting people and their friendships. You're available but not open, not to everyone.

FINANCES -

Cards: Friendliness(2 of Cups)

Those of you who are into partnerships or teamwork, this year is going to be good for money. You're being advised to make more connections at workplace and in general too, it will be good for your work. Surround yourself with like-minded people but also be careful of two-faced people and backbiters.

FOCUS -

Cards: Playfulness(Page of Wands)

You're being advised to loosen up a bit and do things that make you happy. Don't let life take you by the neck and drag you into a pit of darkness. You need to enjoy a bit and don't let your surroundings have a negative effect on your mind. Focus your mind on happiness and getting out of things that drain your mind.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 1.

Love, light, peace and hope to you .🌼🌺🌸🪻

⪩⪨ Pile - 2 ⪩⪨

LOVE -

Cards: Turning In(4 of Cups).

You guys might also be attracted to Pile 1, so if you want, you can check that pile too. You guys have the similar urge like Pile 1, to remain single or atleast not get involved in love this year. With the 4 of Cups, I'm seeing that this decision of yours is by choice, half of this group have had negative experiences in love earlier while the other half of you are enjoying being single currently. You're trying to find out about yourself more and your rich inner self. You're more involved in self-care activities currently.

CAREER -

Cards: Integration(Temperance)

You guys are being advised to have balance in your work life. Either you're taking free time too much or working too much. With integration here, you're also advised to be more co-operative and involve yourselves in teamwork, this year.

FAMILY -

Cards: Totality(5 of Wands)

You might be in an argument with some of your family members or maybe even, not in good terms with someone in your family. There may be disagreements and conflicts so you're being advised to take your decisions wisely, not in rush or rage.

FRIENDSHIP -

Cards: Ripeness(9 of Pentacles)

Your friendships will be good this year, it's almost like you've worked so hard in the past years on being a good friend, being trustworthy and loyal in friendships, so you'll be on good terms with your friends. You can rely on your friends and they can rely on you.

FINANCES -

Cards: Transformation(Death)

Your finances might take a turn this year, either you'll start earning money from a totally different source if you're already working(so it can mean change of jobs, change of location). For some of you, it can be that you've resigned or retired, so there is a change in the flow of money. This might look like a necessary change which cannot be avoided, I'm saying this because of the intensity of this card.

FOCUS -

Cards: Change(Wheel of Fortune)

You're being advised to focus your mind on whatever change this is, don't restrain yourself from it, don't try to push it back, it might look like a divine intervention, but if you're meant to do it anyway, you'll also be helped by your guides to get through it.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 2.

Love, light, peace and hope to you .🌼🌺🌸🪻

⪩⪨ Pile - 3 ⪩⪨

LOVE -

Cards: Slowing Down(Knight of Pentacles) clarified by Clinging to the past(5 of Cups).

You're going slow in love, you're calculating, analysing, measuring every aspect of what a love relationship can offer, what you like and dislike, not wanting to repeat past mistakes again. Some of you are in a dating phase and meeting new people, while others of you are stuck with thoughts of your ex or toxic relationships. So some of you are not giving chances to new people. You're being advised to look forward in life, move on and think of the good things you possess.

CAREER -

Cards: Sorrow(9 of Swords) and Politics(7 of Swords)

You look tired of your job, you might not be happy with your workplace, colleagues or seniors. There might be discrimination, low compensation, overtime work with no proper pay. The overall energy of your work environment is draining you, it seems. You're being advised to leave if you can, and if not, you can lessen your stress by extra-curricular activities.

FAMILY -

Cards: Innocence(The Sun)

The Sun card here, gives a positive energy. Your relationship with your family is going to be very good, you might even go out on family trips this year. There is an environment of enjoyment and playfulness. People are supportive and understanding. They are going to be like a stress-reliever.

FRIENDSHIP -

Cards: Suppression(10 of Wands)

You're either feeling like you're the one who's taking all the efforts in your friendships or you're being burdened with too many expectations from your friend/s. You're being advised to communicate and solve the problem and if they're doing this even after communicating about it n number of times, you need to take your leave.

FINANCES -

Cards: Projections(7 of Cups) clarified by Intensity(Knight of Wands).

You're being advised not to take rash decisions when it comes to spending money. You're also being too indecisive about different things on which you want to spend your money, so you're putting your money impulsively into too many things, things you might further realise you do not need. So spend wisely.

FOCUS -

Cards: Trust(Knight of Cups)

You're being advised to focus on building trust within friendships and relationships. Also, If you're being offered a romantic proposal, do think about it. You need to focus on your relationships this year, on how to make them better. You're advised to be more open and accepting in terms of love.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 3.

Love, light, peace and hope to you .🌼🌺🌸🪻

⪩⪨ Pile - 4 ⪩⪨

LOVE -

Cards: Postponement(4 of Swords).

Actually, it's funny how so many of the piles here got 4s for love(except the 4 of Wands), I think everybody just wants peace in life or be accepted just as they are, no drama of adjusting with new people. Coming to your reading, you want to be out of the picture of love this year, you don't want unnecessary new drama in your life. People are too full of expectations and that's exhausting. Maybe currently you're trying to make things easier in your own life. You're tired of people, I think, so you want to be left on your own. Maybe you're also waiting for the right person to come in, so you're just focusing on yourself this year. Those who are already in a relationship or married are taking a back seat, not being on social media too much, minding your own businesses separately.

CAREER -

Cards: Aloneness(Hermit) clarified by Playfulness(Page of Wands).

You might either be into a monopoly business/work or you work alone/self employed. I can see that you're also happy with whatever it is that you do, you enjoy your work. You're happy to manage everything on your own.

FAMILY -

Cards: The Burden(6 of Swords) clarified by Trust(Knight of Cups).

Your family thinks you're like a burden to them or they're like a burden to you or both(it can be due to physical health, mental health, control issues, strict-behaviour etc..). Your family and/or you guys might feel like cutting ties with each other but you guys might still be staying together or are in a toxic connection with each other. There's a lack of trust, acceptance and love here. I know this part of the reading is sad, but if you're going through it, I wish you all the luck. These issues are not the ones to suddenly generate, if they're present, that means they were already there since a long time.

FRIENDSHIP -

Cards: Transformation(Death).

You might have recently ended a friendship and in the process of finding new friends. You don't need to extend relationships unnecessarily which are not going to stay. If you're almost on the verge of ending a friendship(which has turned bitter), then please do it without doubting yourselves any further. It would be good for all the people involved in this connection.

FINANCES -

Cards: Courage(Strength)

You might have earned money with a lot of efforts and courage, so you're proud of it and you're using it decisively. I'm not saying that other people do not put efforts, It's just that people of this pile might have faced extreme difficulties in regards to their career and have worked tooth and nail for getting a certain job, their job might have asked a lot of them and they gave it. Like just for example: A woman who is not allowed to work but wants to make her own career, starts working after too many fights and arguments with family, maybe even leaving them.

FOCUS -

Cards: Politics(7 of Swords) clarified by The Master.

People of this pile are very intuitive and aware, so you will know when somebody is attacking you or stealing from you or taking advantage of you, you just need to stay that way.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 4.

Love, light, peace and hope to you .🌼🌺🌸🪻

⪩⪨ Pile - 5 ⪩⪨

LOVE -

Cards: Ordinariness(8 of Pentacles) clarified by Sorrow(9 of Swords).

You're just a simple person who needs very simple things in life. So, same goes with your love life too, you just want things to work out and you're not afraid to put the required efforts in your relationships. You've been tired of people wanting too much from you, in love. Maybe you're also simple with your looks, makeup and fashion but people always want you to wear a certain way, look a certain way, so you've gotten uncomfortable and tired of this. You might be working on yourself currently but not to entertain people, just for yourself or you're just focused on your career this year.

CAREER -

Cards: Understanding(Page of Cups) and Creativity(The Empress).

Just as I've mentioned above, you might be focused on yourself or your career. Your career might be of creative nature and you feel like you've found your people and place. Doing what you like best, putting your all in it. People really admire your work and passion. You really feel understood and appreciated for your work and you're happy with it. You might even come up with more creative ideas for your work.

FAMILY -

Cards: The Master.

The Master card suggests that you're very aware of yourself. You know how to be the master of your own life, how to tackle things on your own. Maybe you've always felt lonely, misunderstood and unappreciated by your family. You might have realised that you're enough on your own. This year, you might think that you don't need anybody. It might be that you understand and support your family but they take you for granted. You're also not afraid to call other people 'family', people who feel more familiar and are more understanding than your own family.

FRIENDSHIP -

Cards: Mind(Page of Swords).

You'll be very defensive when it comes to friends too. You don't want people who make you go crazy in the head, who make relationships complicated. You think you'll be better off alone. You'll only make new friends when you find someone really reliable and trustworthy. You feel like you've had enough of people calling themselves 'friends'(iykyk).

FINANCES -

Cards: Flowering(Queen of Pentacles).

Your finances will be good this year. You'll have money for all of your requirements and with your mind completely focused on career and money, you'll be able to handle your finances properly too.

FOCUS -

Cards: Clinging to the Past(5 of Cups)

You're being advised to count your blessings and leave the spilled milk behind. There's no use of crying over previous relationships or friendships. They came as a lesson, learn from them and move on. Everything will not stay forever. Some of you also feel guilty for something, try to make peace with it by doing the right thing always and helping people and animals. For a few of you, if you're grieving the passing away of a loved one who's passed away long time ago, you're advised to make peace with it and stop hurting yourself. Live life righteously for them.

That's all I got for you, my dear Pile 5.

Love, light, peace and hope to you .🌼🌺🌸🪻

Thank you so much for being here. I post PAC readings once every week. Do love and support by reblogging, liking or following.

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[writers-potion]

Writing Mad Characters

Okay this is a bit awkward because I had this question copypasted into Google Docs I use to draft my answers, and I realized I've lost the question in my inbox (which is being flooded).

So...I'm so sorry for whoever asked this question. Sorry for the delay because I was struggling with life in general for the past month and definitely SORRY for losing your question (－‸ლ)

Q: I'm writing a story where a major character is slowly spiraling into madness where small details kinda hint into the downfall right before the bigger details appear and then it the floodgates open. Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that I should keep in mind? Anything that I should research?

Things to Avoid

“Mad” or “Insane” is too general. Writing a cliched ‘crazy’ character who randomly talks to imaginary people and lashes out at strangers, you’ll offend a whole bunch of people who've gone through/have mental illnesses. Read up on existing mental conditions (schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, post-traumatic disorder and borderline personality disorder, etc.) to see what your character might have. 

Words like “mad” “crazy” or “insane” aren’t enough when you’re describing their status. As mentioned, these words hardly mean much when it comes to providing a clear description.

Contradicting yourself. Throwing random unhinged symptoms here and there wouldn’t work. In fact, you must have a clear arc on which they’re traveling and ensure that your “hints” are all getting at something.

Making the character overly destructive or harmful to others (when nothing really justifies it)

Justifying damaging behavior with this “madness”. Mad or not, your character will still have motives and goals that drive them forward. 

Making them look incompetent just the fact that they have a mental condition that makes them appear “mad” to others shouldn’t prevent them from achieving success. In fact, they may be even more cool-hearted and logical when it comes to their obsessions/goals. 

Research Tips

Narrow down the mental conditions your character experiences. Even if it’s a fictional condition, try basing it on existing ones and building on top of them. 

Take some time to study characters and/or real clinical cases that resemble the kind of madness you’re going for. 

- Anxiety Disorders: excessive fear and dread (ex. phobias) - Mood Disorders: persistent swings in mood or persistent feelings that interfere with daily life (ex. Depression, bipolar) - Psychotic Disorders: disordered thinking (ex. schizophrenia) - Eating Disorders: extreme emotional attitudes toward food (ex. Bulimia, anorexia) - Impulse Disorders: unable to resist urges (ex. Kleptomania, pyromania, gambling) - Personality Disorders: extreme inflexible personality traits (ex. Anti-social disorder, OCPD) - Past Traumatic Stress: persistent, frightening memories leading to emotional numbness 

Does your character have empathy?  

A sociopathic kind of madness is different. 

General Writing Tips for Spiraling into Madness

Establish a Baseline 

A lot of factors (stress, family history, innate personality, trauma, etc.) can contribute to madness, but it is not going to happen in a week. Define the existing mental and physical conditions your character has, and start from there. 

If you’re aiming for suicidal tendencies at the end, you want to start with symptoms of depression (a condition that may lead to suicide) - growing apathetic, erratic sleeping patterns, irritability, etc. 

This is also the stage where you want to plant some triggers that’ll go off later.

Trigger Events

A perfectly sound character suddenly spiraling down the madness route due to a single accident or traumatizing event isn’t convincing. 

A madness “snap” denies the reader the experience of watching the character’s journey into madness and how they feel about it. 

Internal Conflict (antagonist in himself) 

You must remember that madness is incurable. If someone could “cure” themselves by eating healthy, exercising and taking a few pills, it wouldn’t be much of a madness, would it? This means that the worst antagonist is going to be the character themselves, or the part of them that’s been taken away. 

Show how they are frustrated with themselves, scared of themselves, angry at their “alternative self”. The experience of not knowing yourself is a whole journey of its own.

Physical Manifestations/Quirks

If your character has a routine, show how they break down. 

They might develop habits that they otherwise would never allow themselves to have, perhaps as an effort to “keep this madness out”

Deteriorating Relationships

Depict how the character’s madness impacts his closed/loved ones. In the earlier stages, those close to him might be faster to notice and accept the signs of madness, even if the character denies it him/herself.

The first signs of madness might show when the character is trying to deal with difficult relationships - like losing patience and being unable to pick up subtle social clues.

Choosing Obsessions Over Primal Urges 

For these characters, obsession can take over a person’s normal urge to eat, sleep or even live. This can lead to, more or less, suicide. 

Example: In Black Swan, Nina’s obsession with becoming the perfect ballerina drive her to insanity, to the point where she doesn't mind dying on stage for the show.