#mood swings is her biggest thing I fear

[oizys-naomi]

First Interrogation ; The Words That Hurt The Most

<< @wardenes-official >>

————————————————————————

I let my eyes follow and trace Es’s movements and steps, all the while glaring at them and acting as if my eyes could cut holes into their skin. I didn’t know how to feel, truly. I felt panicked by the mere mention of murder for whatever reason, even if I assumed myself as innocent. Of course I would be. There’s no reason for me to kill someone, so why would I ever bother doing so? Those who I want dead will feel the wrath of karma soon, I had assumed, and controlled my thoughts based off of that fantasy alone.

As they spoke, I sighed quietly and tapped my foot. My empty expression and even emptier eyes didn’t seem to do much in particular, and even when they proposed an idea so ludicrous as a “song extraction” my eyebrow didn’t even budge, nor did my eye twitch. This child really was playing games, I thought. Whoever employed this kid was…interesting, to say the least. What sort of organization would do this? I would doubt the government itself would fund this to seek out personal justice for whatever reason, so whatever company backing this had to have pockets full of money and connections far wider than Japan. It seemed unimaginable, fake, and ridiculous—like I was put onto some sort of television reality TV show made to psyche me out. So, with that thought in mind, I shut my eyes momentarily to regain composure.

When I opened them, I stopped glaring. Not as much as a standoffish expression as before, but it surely was a far cry from the cold one I had previously. My emotions were bouncing everywhere, I realized, and I had to seem somewhat consistent all things considered; emotions, thoughts and expressions all kept under wraps. I couldn’t freak out for a multitude of reasons.

—————

“Song extraction. You’re kidding.”

I sighed loudly, furrowing my eyebrows with a suspicious and somewhat scowling expression on my face. I didn’t come here to play games, I thought, and I huffed in annoyance before taking a deep breath. No more outbursts, I reminded myself.

Maybe I had to play along. For now, anyways. This TV show nonsense…I had to keep a good impression on, lest my family find out I acted borderline insane towards a person much shorter and younger than me.

—————

“Different murderers, you say? What’s the variation of the crimes…? Do you know?”

A fair question, I suppose. If I was with other people, then the least I could do was learn about their crimes and avoid the serious offenders. Get to know the other “cast”, if anything. I had already heard yelling in my sleep from a multitude of voices—a loud, brash voice screaming and throwing something, as well as a meek voice mimicking crocodile tears—so I was sure I’d have quite a colorful bunch of people I’d be working with.

If our crimes were over a single word, “murder”, then it would be sure to vary. I’d expect a serious offender, perhaps some sort of vigilante, or maybe a cyberbully of some sort. Those were quite common nowadays since the internet. Of course, I shouldn’t assume too much about the prison warden or the others. Stick to the goal of getting out, or something. If that idea failed, I’d just plan to learn more and more about those here.

—————

“Sure, maybe this is different from other prisons, but every positive thing has a twist, intentionally or not. I wouldn’t be so surprised that, if I wasn’t forgiven by some standard, my freedoms would be restricted. Do you agree, Es-kun?”

[thebibliosphere]

Wait, is Jason in Gotham Knights body horror? Because it doesn't feel like his body even tho he's controlling it? (He died, he came back, it's not the same and never will be)

Or is it more analogous to puberty and feeling like you don't know anything about your body anymore?

Just having thoughts about that boy again

I think Jason in Gotham Knights is very much connected with his physical body. It's his biggest weapon, possibly more so than his guns, given his lasting connection to the Lazarus Pit and the power it gives him.

His backstory talks about building himself up to peak physical condition into the absolute unit he is now, and you can either see that as someone trying to reconnect with their physical self or someone vowing never to be small or weak again.

I tend to think of it as both. It's a reclamation of his physical form but also a transformation into something bigger and stronger that ensures he's the scariest, meanest-looking mother fucker in the room. Basically someone you can't underestimate as a threat.

(Try not to think too hard about the fact that he now largely resembles Bruce in stature, that he is now the group's heavy hitter, the most menacing and the most likely to strike fear into the heart of his opponents, and that Jason molded himself into the person he needed to be rescued by as a child. Don't do it. Do not. I am normal about this.)

But he obviously struggles with feeling present mentally sometimes.

You'll see him zoning out occasionally, touching the J-shaped scar on his face before violently shaking himself back into the present.

He has panic attacks while playing a dance video game with a coffin in it—a coffin his character becomes trapped in because he's not moving fast enough. (hello, trauma)

He's angry all the time and so relieved when Barbra expresses her own rage at something because, yes, finally, someone else is letting their emotions out instead of bottling it up (Dick).

His emails are littered with orders for self-help books, emails from his therapist moving his sessions around, and concerned messages from his friends (Roy comes to mind) saying if he needs to get out of Gotham, they'll make it happen.

Alfred holding him while he sobs over losing Bruce still breaks me every time. I have to pause the game and walk around my house until I feel normal again.

And then there's the cut scene where Dick asks, "Hey, remember that time we all [insert funny thing here]," and Jason admits, somewhat angrily, that no, he doesn't because Lazarus took entire swaths of memories from him and he hates how he can't connect with people the way he used to and he hates the way they all look at him (the way Dick is looking at him now) when he admits he doesn't remember something they clearly loved about the old him: the version of him who didn't have volatile mood swings or made people flinch when he did something as mundane as handle a kitchen knife -- the undead monster he came back as*.

The fact that Dick then contrives to recreate this memory so Jason can be included in a newer version of it -- while also giving him what is arguably a weapon -- fucks me up every time. Dick just yeets a kitchen knife at him, trusting that Jason will catch it, and then just steamrolls over Jason's rightful 'what the fuck' expression with "Hey, we're making food. Get dicing."

And Jason knows what they're all doing. He's aware of it, and he gets the teeniest, tiniest smile before smothering it out. Except he can't quite. He's still smiling as he chops the vegetables. And yes, they're all hopeless at cooking compared to him, and he knows he's going to end up taking over, but that's okay. Because this is for him. He gets to control it.

And that's how Jason gets to make a new memory, one where he is handed a weapon and gets to turn it into a genuine expression of nurturing and care.

Because he does care about them. He wouldn't conspire with Dick to bake Barbara's favorite childhood cookies if he didn't. He wouldn't try so hard to be gentle with Tim triggering the shit out of him while he's struggling with his grief. He just doesn't always know how to express it because he doesn't always know what he's feeling.

Is his anger valid? Or is this Lazarus Pit Rage? Is he being overly sensitive because of his trauma, or is everyone else underreacting because of their trauma? (Should he sign them all up for therapy, quite probably, yes.)

So, you could perhaps argue that Jason experiences body horror in the sense that he doesn't remember all the pieces of who he used to be. (Speaking as someone with severe memory loss from medical trauma, it's certainly a type of horror.) But I don't think it's because he's detached from it physically or doesn't feel in control of his body. I think it's his mind that worries him.

His body he can control. It's his mind that still sparks green sometimes.

---

*Re the scene with Tim when Tim calls the Talons monsters. "What about me? Do you think I'm a monster?"

No, they don't.

But Jason does. And it scares him shitless.

[alicerosejensen]

I did it!

Papa!Leon and his sweet pumpkin daughter!

I died of cuteness while writing this. I think Leon would be a great father, but being a government agent means he's often away from home. Because of this, he feels wild guilt towards his wife and baby.

I hope you enjoy it too.

Warning: Papa Leon, his child is a girl.

I still stealing gifs and pinterest pictures.

- Leon will definitely do everything to protect his family even from a potential threat. Your house with him is a small island of boundless peace and security. It has no place for bioweapons.

- And the first thing you need to know is that when leon finds out that his S/O is pregnant by him (even if they planned it for a child), he will be a little confused and scared. But only because he understands what a big responsibility falls on his shoulders: Leon wants to protect baby from any troubles.

- Of course, he already loves your child with him. He already has a couple of names in mind, if you don't mind.

- Leon will talk to his baby a lot, constantly stroking and kissing your belly. You will tell him that it is useless and the term is still too short, but he does not care. He will also insist that you get plenty of rest and not take on too much work.

- He likes to equip the children's room.

- His wife (and I'm sure that he will settle down, read the post about the college girl) is always under vigilant supervision. Family is what Leon puts in the first place. You and the baby must be absolutely healthy, so visiting a doctor, taking vitamins for pregnant women, special gymnastics - this is what Leon will not disregard. If you forget something, he will immediately remind you of it.

- Leon has absolutely no revulsion. He is not one of those men who are afraid of pregnant wives. Sure, he can get tired of some of the pregnancy quirks like eating habits or frequent mood swings, but he understands how difficult it is for you in the first place! No matter how desirable a child is, pregnancy is not always wonderful, and often terrible. Leon loves you and will happily massage your feet, bring you whatever you ask for (even if he has to run back and forth a few times) and comfort you if you suddenly feel overwhelmed again.

- His biggest hate is when he gets called to work. This usually goes on for several weeks or even a whole month, and Leon does not want to leave you unattended, so he will most likely ask someone close to visit you (this could be Claire or your parents)

- Leon keeps an ultrasound photo of the baby. He doesn't know a damn thing where everything is, but the very idea that it's HIS baby makes him a little sentimental. No, he will never throw it away.

- He doesn't care about the gender of the baby.

- However, when he takes the babygirl in his arms, Leon decides that she will always need additional protection.

- He will tremble with excitement when he realizes that this rosy-cheeked, chubby baby is his tiny daughter. Leon's tears will flow looking at her.

- He literally has a real diamond at home that sleeps in a crib and let at least one bastard try to harm her!

- If Leon is at home, then taking care of his daughter also lies with him. He really does not understand how can ignore or leave your child! Bathe? Change diaper? Change clothes or put to bed if her wake up at night? Leon will be the one to sing the baby a lullaby.

- I'm sure he has terrible sleep problems. But you can wake up and see that the bed is empty and Leon has gone somewhere, but there is no light in the kitchen. You will find him in the nursery where he will sit silently over the crib and just look at his daughter.

- "I just can't bear it if anything happens to her" - that's what he said when he felt your presence. - "My pumpkin...so small. I would give her the whole world."

- This is another of his giant fears - the loss of his daughter.

- Leon will call the girl pumpkin. Constantly. Or "my sweet pumpkin"

- He will always bring her new toys.

- He likes to spoon feed her when she a little older . Definitely, Leon will rejoice at the first successes and will support the idea of ​​creating a children's album, where the important moments of childhood will be preserved: the first steps, the first word, how many milk teeth, etc...

- Whether he is tired or not, Leon will play with his daughter if she brings him her toys.

- In the future, Leon will most likely learn to braid pigtails. He also knows the plots of many children's cartoons and all these songs.

- Would not mind if the baby fell asleep on his chest. Leon will either fall asleep with her or gently carry her to bed.

- He won't have a single photo or any mention of you or your child on his phone, but that's only because he's protecting you.

- He keeps all the cute pictures at home in his desk drawer.

- Leon will definitely spoil the baby a little.

- However, he can also be a strict father.

- He will not allow more than what is required. Sweets? of course, but only within reasonable limits. This also applies to behavior. Leon will not encourage whims.

- When Leon is away from home, he feels like his heart is breaking because of guilt. Especially if he looks at those puppy dog eyes of his daughter. He would give up everything in the world to stay with his family.

- He always hugs and kisses you and your child before leaving.

- If some son of a bitch from Umbrella or someone like Simmons decides to kidnap his daughter for blackmail or revenge, Leon will turn into a real monster who will do everything to get her back. He might have to ask for help, but once Leon gets to that bastard, no one will save him. However, the baby will be able to calm her father's dead nerves a little.

- His child is literally the meaning of his life. Having lost her, he will lose himself forever. Most likely Leon will want to put a bullet in his forehead.

- However, in a good scenario, Leon always returns home to his cheerful little girl. When they meet, he always picks her up in his arms and kisses her on the cheek. He just adores her! If Leon comes home at night when she is sleeping, he will quietly come into the room to straighten her blanket and just look at her for a couple of minutes.

- Family is what keeps Leon from plunging completely into despair. He can still drink sometimes, especially if he lost someone on a mission, but he believes that he has no right to feel sorry for himself. He is a husband and father. Because of this, it can be emotionally difficult for him, but the embrace of a loved one is what gives him peace and tranquility. If his daughter decides to hug him just like that or saw that Dad was sitting sad, then Leon will not let her out of his arms for a long time. She is his anesthetic for all wounds.

- Leon would not want his daughter to follow in his footsteps. If she tells him one day that she wants to be an agent like him, Leon will be very scared and will most likely try to scare her to dissuade her forever. Quarrels between them regarding this topic are possible in the future.

- Leon is unlikely to have any more children. He will be very careful that you do not get pregnant again. Maybe he'll think about a vasectomy. He is sure that he can protect one child, but two is already problematic. Moreover, he is often not at home and his wife will find it quite difficult to cope with two children.

- Adolescence is a difficult thing. This is the period of growing up of a daughter that Leon would find difficult to survive. Loud music? Conflict-provoking behavior? friendship with dubious guys? Leon's daughter could accuse him of constant absence, so he has no right to scold her for coming home late.

- This is what Leon will always lose all words for.

- You could comfort him by saying that your child is just having such a period and they just need to talk to each other when everything cools down.

- Leon does not encourage night walks, tattoos, etc. If one day he smells alcohol or cigarettes from his daughter (or, God forbid, she came home a little drunk after a party), a scandal will break out.

- It would be like Moira and Barry's relationship.

- The only difference is that a difficult relationship arose against the background of the constant absence of his father. By her behavior, the girl only wants to attract his attention.

- Leon is still ready to go down to hell for his family.

[tealottie]

Dewey is a child and cannot have BPD or hypersexuality unless he has experienced trauma or other terrible causes. I'm very confused by your fixation on Dewey having these mental disorders. Projecting such serious and scary conditions onto a child is both strange and creepy.

I usually do not respond to anonymous messages like this, but the ignorance in this response is so prevalent that I fear it may be dangerous.

I never gave an assigned age to Dewey in my headcanons post - in fact, I believe I stated that he initially had ODD which later developed into BPD which is a very common thing that can happen for children.

With that being said and out of the way, I would now like to discuss BPD in particular. Perpetuating the idea that BPD can only stem from childhood trauma is a dangerous narrative to spread - you can look at several credited sources online stating that, while common, BPD does not HAVE to have stemmed from childhood trauma. Any sort of statement that someone without trauma cannot have Borderline can be very harmful to individuals with BPD who have unconventional diagnoses. And while I'm arguing for those who do not have childhood trauma, I would kindly like to point out another side of ignorance in your response by gesturing to the entirety of the show - the content of the show IS Dewey's childhood.

Dewey grew up from age 1-10 in a financially unstable environment on a houseboat with a single dad/uncle - whom I personally headcanon to have spent time in the navy as well, meaning that there was likely even more turbulence at home. Then at age 10, Dewey is thrown into a mansion with a world class adventurer and billionaire among other amazing adventurers (including the man who raised him), and now on top of his middle kid I-must-stand-out syndrome, he feels the added pressure of living up to his family name. Scrooge is also not a great caretaker (I won't get into that, though, still love the guy). The entirety of Dewey's youth has been severely unconventional, and we see this in the way Dewey's biggest dream is to just be a popular kid in high school - he wants a normal life, but he also wants to be the hero and stand out above everyone else. On top of all of this, he felt an attachment to a mother he never had for years without any explanation of where she is or what happened to her.

And also, throughout the show, Dewey displays common symptoms of Borderline (though these behaviors coincide with other factors of his life, too, which is why I did not explicitly claim that he developed BPD as young as 10 and left his age at which he developed it ambiguous). He yearns for attention and acts on impulse to gain it, his mood swings as soon as something upsets him - usually resulting in anger, he always tries to be the best at everything because of his own views of his self worth, he takes huge risks and does so without thinking a lot, he's a tad grandiose, we've seen him isolate whenever he is sad which turns inter irritability when bothered, he has a lack of restraint (doubling down on that impulsivity), he deals with some form of depression, he developed attachment issues towards a woman he never knew -- Must I go on?

And now let's take a look into Compulsive Sexual Behavior Disorder (Hypersexuality). I, myself, have been hypersexual since an age as young as 10 which developed without any childhood abuse or trauma. Hypersexuality is a sexual addiction in which your brain just cannot shake off the thoughts of sex - even in inappropriate situations, it will still be on your mind, which can lead to intrusive thoughts and internalized guilt. Hypersexuality can be comorbid with things like ADHD and BPD both as well. I personally find it strange that whenever someone gives a realistic mental disorder to a child in writing that even somewhat involves sex, whether that kid can control it or not, everyone gets weird about it. Children know more than either you or they themself realize, and that doesn't mean that that kid is doomed - it just means they need help. I personally find it creepy that you find my headcanon creepy, anon - are you inherently sexualizing Dewey in your own mind because you simply cannot fathom the concept of a minor having an unpretty mental disorder? Yes, you're right, it IS a serious disorder - but that's exactly why I think there needs to be more representation of it. There needs to be more conversation on how to catch these symptoms in children early, and how to help them develop healthy coping skills that won't ruin their sexual health later on in life.

Lastly, I'd like to ask why you specifically targeted BPD and CSBD in this message you sent? You didn't point out the scary logistics of Louie struggling with intense dysphoria - a disorder that can cause suicidal ideations, especially when paired with severe depression. If anything, Louie is at high risk of causing harm to himself, and if your concern is for these kids' safety, then you should have brought that up, too. It feels like you targeted BPD and CSBD specifically because they are the "evil" disorders, and you find headcanoning a kid to have "evil" disorders to make me "evil", too. So I think you should call into question your own morals and ethics surrounding these topics of conversation -- and once you take off that stupid anonymous mask -- THEN we can have a conversation.

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 2

An AU Elvis fic

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis’ full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. [Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, voyeurism, masturbation, blood/gore

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello everyone!

I hope you like this fic so far! I'm having fun writing it and it's getting more spicy 🤭 Reader is going through it and I'm loving the tension between these two. Please let me know what you think in the comments or send me a message!

Thank you again!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes and overall goofs. 🖤

Your alarm clock seems to be louder than usual and the instant feeling of anxiety fills your body when you open your eyes. You dreaded going to work today and wished you could just call out sick. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind you were going to get called into the office today and get scolded, and maybe possibly fired. How did you fuck up the most simple of tasks?! Clean and get out. But no, you had to become a nervous wreck around Elvis and shatter a champagne bottle in your hands, making more of a mess and bleed all over his suite. 

You muster up the courage to get ready and take a shower. Removing the bandages from your hands, you inspect the damage you caused. The cuts didn’t look as bad as yesterday but hurt when stretched your fingers out and flexed your hands. You decided to wrap them back up to keep the wounds dry and clean. 

Looking at the clock, you decide to get to work a bit early incase management needed to talk to you. Might as well prepare for the worse. The drive to the hotel made your stomach turn, the way the air smelled made you sick the closer you got to the parking garage. 

You get to the locker room at noon and it’s buzzing with everyone about to head to lunch. You take a few more steps into the room and everyone grows quiet, throwing disgruntled looks to you. You have no idea what everyone’s problem is but you quickly make it to your locker and get your things out, trying to act like nothing is bothering you. Your friend, Anna, opens her locker next to you and bumps your shoulder.

“What’s with everyone today?” You mutter, looking over your shoulder and seeing the disgusted stares continuing. 

“Everyone found out about you getting promoted to the penthouse and they’re pissed. Especially the ones that have been here a lot longer than you have.” She whispers. “But I’m happy for you, you work your ass off. You have to tell me, what’s he like?” She says in an excited whisper. 

“Well, he’s a dick. Rudest asshole I’ve ever met,” you snicker. She looks at you with wide eyes and covers her mouth from the the laugh that wants to come out. 

“Really?! What did you say to him? What happened?” She presses. 

“Not much but he was just in a foul mood. He watched my every last move and…” you stop yourself, still very much embarrassed about yesterday’s events. 

“Come on tell me,” Anna says eagerly. 

“I broke a champagne bottle and bled all over his suite, then he kicked me out,” you say with a snicker, the nerves getting the best of you and needing to let out the pent up anxiety. 

She lets out a giggle and picks up your bandaged hands. “Y/n, what the hell. That’s awful! You’re like the biggest perfectionist on earth. What happened?” 

“He made me… so nervous. I don’t know what it was about his presence but it just was so intense. The way he’d look at me gave me chills, I don’t know! I have no explanation other than the nerves got the best of me and it broke me, literally,” you say jokingly as you raise up your bandaged hands. 

Anna laughs at you and you continue to change your clothes. 

“Y/n, get in here,” Tanya’s voice echos loudly from the back office. You stomach drops and you look nervously at Anna. 

“Shit, this can’t be good,” you mutter. 

It feels like a death march, and you try to come up with an excuse for your behavior but nothing is good enough to get you out in the clear. 

You swing open the office door and see Tanya looking down at paperwork. 

“Shut the door please,” she says with the wave of her pen. 

You comply and take a seat in the chair, your leg nervously bouncing up and down. 

“How was your shift yesterday?” She asks, her tone unwavering. 

You swallow harshly and clear your throat before speaking. 

“It went well. Was there any notes Mr. Presley left for me?” You say quietly.

She hands you a piece of paper and you hesitate to take it. 

“He sent this down sometime last night. He was so impressed with you y/n. Left you high praise and that’s really a feat! Not even Laura got such high praise when she worked up there. I’m really impressed too,” she says proudly. 

You exhale a sigh of relief and let out a nervous laugh as you take the paper from her hand. 

“Mr. Presley would like to keep y/n as his permanent housekeeper. She gave wonderful care and service.” -Presley Enterprises

You’re at a loss for words and don’t know how you received such a letter. You could have sworn by the wrath in Elvis’ voice you were going to be fired but the opposite tone was conveyed and now you were his permanent housekeeper?

“Thank you Tanya, I’m glad everything worked out smoothly for him. Was there anything else you needed from me?” You say positively. 

“No that was all. Keep up the good work,” she says cheerfully. 

You excuse yourself and close the door behind you, making a swift jog to the bathroom. How were you able to get such high praise when he made it so clear that he hated you. That you were a complete nuisance to him and had to harshly kick you out! That wasn’t normal and you wanted to ask him what the reason for such crass behavior was. You check your hair in the mirror and slick it back in a tight ponytail.

The locker room clears out and it’s left with you and your wandering thought. The shrill sound of the phone makes you race to grab the phone from the wall. It was too early for Elvis to be calling, it was only 2 o clock, so at least you can take a few more moments to calm yourself down and get ready for your shift.  

“Housekeeping, this is y/n,” you quip. 

“Mr. Presley is requesting your services,” the voice says darkly and hangs up. Your heart races and you scramble to make sure you have everything. You sprint your way to the elevator with your key to get to the penthouse, making sure to not make him wait as long as he did yesterday for you in your nervous state. 

The elevator jolts up and you smooth out your uniform. The doors open and the same man is waiting for you when you step out. You quickly make your way to the door and step inside. 

The decedent smell fills your nose again and you quietly close the door behind you. There’s so much more light in the room today and as you turn around, you realize the curtains are all open, letting in that fresh sunlight. Your eyes dart to the moving figure moving in your peripheral. Elvis stands a few feet away from you in all black again, a white shirt buttoned down to the middle of his torso and his hair perfectly combed back in his signature way. 

Again, you’re heart raced by just the sight of him. You stand there for a second trying not to stare but miserably failing. Nerves rush through you, waiting for him to snap at you for yesterday's mishaps and make you feel incompetent. 

“H-hello, Mr. Presley,” you say intimidated, giving a slight smile at the last second.

“Hello, y/n. I’m glad you’re here,” he says with a grin. He makes his way toward you in a slow, nonchalant manner and raises his hand out in front of him. 

You realize he’s not wearing any sunglasses today and can see how blue his eyes are for the first time. They’re electric, so captivating, and alluring. They’re like clear blue tropical waters, something you’ve only seen in books. No photograph could properly capture this shade of blue and you just wanted to swim in them. This makes your heart beat flutter again and you try to regain focus on what Elvis is saying to you.  

“I’m very sorry for how I acted yesterday. Maybe we can start over. I hope you don’t think I’m a rude asshole,” he suggests with a chuckle. 

You wince and the words he said, the same ones you whispered to Anna a few hours ago, and feel bad that you said it based on your one interaction. But if he admits he was wrong, you’ll take the apology. Looking down at his pale hand, it’s covered in rings that are probably worth more than you make in a year’s salary. You carefully wrap your fingers around his large hand and shake it. He still feels cold like he did yesterday or maybe it was just the coolness of the rings making him feel that way, you couldn’t decipher what was the coldest. You tried not to dwell on it and tried to stop staring at his hands as you noticed the scars and calluses on his long fingers. 

You meet his gaze and smile genuinely for the first time. 

“It’s alright Mr. Presley, I was also a bit nervous yesterday and wasn’t myself.” You assure. You notice he still has your hand in his grasp, rubbing the faintest circle on the back of your hand distracting you from making a coherent thought. Even though his temperature was off from yours, the way his skin felt on yours was obsessional. The way it tingled effortlessly through your body down to your toes and you wanted more. Your heart continues to dance in your chest and you feel his gaze intensify. 

“Are you feeling better Mr. Presley? You were very…cold yesterday,” you say shyly. 

He lets out a small hum before answering, “Never better honey. You definitely brightened up my day,” he says coyly. 

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. How does this man have so much charm in his body that he makes you feel like a love-struck puppy? 

He finally lets go of your hand and you want it back on you, liking his touch more than you should. 

He starts to walk toward the couch, looking over his shoulder at you before sitting down, “please, sit with me. I want to get to know you better,” he coos. Standing there unable to speak, you nervously smile and shake your head at him. 

“No, that’s okay Mr. Presley I don’t sit down in the guest's spaces when I’m on the clock. I really should get started cleaning.” You defer. 

For a second, his eyebrows furrow in confusion, then his eyes grow soft and almost plead for you. “Oh no please, I insist,” He smiles softly. 

“That’s okay Mr. Presley. If you want, you can ask me questions while I clean, I’m okay with that,” you say cheerfully. Turning to your cleaning cart you left here last night, you grab a trash bag and begin to clean up the remnants of last night's party. You quickly glance over at him sitting on the couch, watching you like a hawk with a smirk on his face. 

“What did you want to know about me?” You ask, picking up bottles and throwing plates away. 

Elvis hums softly to himself, trying to find the words to ask, “How old are you?” 

“I’m 30, but I really feel like I’m 16 still,” you quip cutely. You hear a low chuckle come from him. “How old are you,” you throwback to him. 

“Hmm, I guess I’m 38 but sometimes I feel 33, maybe even 21 at times but based on how many times I’ve traveled around the sun, I’m just 38.” He remarks. 

“Okay, I’ll say you’re young at heart,” You say and you hear him chuckle. 

“What do you like to do for fun?” He asks next. 

This actually makes you pause and think because quite frankly, you don’t know. 

“Well, it’s hard to say… I work pretty much all the time so the days I do have off, I just clean up my apartment or go swimming or something. I just don’t have a lot of time for fun,” you say a bit defeated. He looks at you with sorrow in his eyes, hearing the sadness that is behind those words. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. That’s no way to live,” He noted. You nod in agreement as you tie off the trash bag and reach for another one. 

“Yeah, it’s not the easiest, but I get by and that’s all that matters,” you try to say cheerfully. 

“So do you ever leave the penthouse?” You ask him cheekily. 

He snickers and nods his head, “only when I have to. I just don’t like it. There’s nothing out there for me,” he broods. 

“Ah I see… do you miss being able to walk down the street without being noticed?” 

“Sometimes, but my fans gave me all of this so I can’t complain,” he says stoically. 

There’s a comfortable silence that is built in between you two as you continue to work. He still watches you intensely like he did yesterday, but there was a sense of curiosity embedded in that stare. You move to the next room and he follows closely behind you. This room you assumed could be a guest room since it didn’t seem to have any personal belongings of Elvis’ in there. There were a dozen candle sticks, all in red, lit up making the room feel eerie and ancient almost. You couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling, was but the more you observed the contents in the room, how strange the things he did collect. There were books on death and philosophy. Books on history and myths. It was all very fascinating to you as you carefully move these items out of the way to clean, trying to read the back cover of them. They were all very dusty and old. You had never seen a book made like this. Bound in a light brown cover with red lettering on the front and golden leafed edges on the paper. 

He sits on the edge of the bed as you reach to dust the books and the shelves above the bed, something you didn’t get an opportunity to get to yesterday. His eyes stare at your ass, watching you make the smallest movements as you are focused on getting the job done. You look over your shoulder at him and see where his gaze is directed at. Your cheeks feel on fire being the object this man is looking at lustfully. You haven’t gotten this much attention from a man in years and you can’t lie to yourself, you kind of like it. 

You get off the bed and fix the comforter, fluffing up the pillows as you stare back at him with a similar intensity. 

“Can I ask what you’re staring at?” You jest. 

“Nothing honey don’t worry. You’re just very beautiful that’s all,” he admits with a grin. You can’t help but smile hearing those words come from one of the most handsome people you’ve ever laid eyes on. And even in your drab pale blue uniform that was uncomfortable, he still managed to see your beauty. 

“So you’re married?” He stipulates and the sound of his voice makes you jump after the comfortable silence that was there previously. 

“Huh?” You asked confused. 

“You have a suntan on your ring finger, I assumed it’s because you’re married and don’t wear your ring while you work,” he observes. If you’re not mistaken, you feel like you can hear slight agitation in his voice? His eyes do that thing that makes you want to crumble before him as he expectantly waits for your answer. 

“Oh, well no, I’m not actually married. I’m just engaged and yeah I don’t normally wear the band at work so it doesn’t get damaged… You have good eyes, Mr. Presley,” you say jokingly. 

“Mhmm…how long have you been engaged?” he continues. 

“A couple years,” you say embarrassed. You were the last one out of all your friends to get married and it weighed on your mind. Maybe Daniel didn’t want to marry you after all since he doesn’t even bring up a date or anything. You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t wear your ring to not get it dirty or lost, but as time has gone on, something about it didn’t feel right wearing a ring there… 

“Why is that?” He snaps. You shoot your eyes back to him and he’s now standing up, looking at you like he could jump over this bed and attack you. 

“I don’t know… We haven’t gotten around to setting a date or pick a venue or anything. It just isn’t the right time,” you say sheepishly, defeat tainting your voice . 

Elvis walks around the bed toward you, analyzing every inch of your body until he’s right in front of you. 

“You deserve better,” he mumbles, reaching out and touching your cheek with his cold hand, rubbing his thumb softly there, giving your body a shiver. His eyes drink you in as he stands there with your face in his hand, chest beginning to rise and fall quicker. You watch as his chest heaves, inspecting every detail of your face and trailing down to your collarbone to the swell of your breast. Your skin gets chills as he does this and he notices, bringing a smirk to his face. 

“If only you knew…” he mutters. 

You grab his wrist, feeling your breathing increase with his close proximity making the room spin. Your vision gets blurry and you grab onto him tighter. You wanted him to comfort you in way you didn’t quite know about. You just wanted his body close to yours, like that would fix all your problems. A complete shift in thought compared to yesterday when all you wanted to do was say thirty yards away from him. 

“Elvis, I-I -I should get back to work,” you say a little breathlessly. 

His chest continues to rise and fall quickly and he bites his lower lip, nodding his head to you. 

“Of course, I’ll leave you alone. Leave whenever you would like,” he says quickly. Before he turns away, he takes his hands off of your face and gives the back of your bandaged hand a kiss. His lips barely grazed your skin but the way his lips dragged down along fingertips before he left was all too much to handle. The way your body screamed for more was frightening. 

You had never even thought of wanting another man since you’ve been with Daniel. You had convinced yourself that he was all you needed. But the way that Elvis makes you feel… you may need to question some of that. 

But it's Elvis. Everyone wanted him so it wasn’t like it made you any more special that you found him attractive too. You’re pretty sure your mom even finds him attractive. 

All this weird tension he’s given you today sizzles in your body and it takes everything in you to not follow him to the other room. He quietly leaves the room and turns in the direction leading to his bedroom, leaving you standing there unable to think. 

If only you knew…

His voice lingers in your head like a soothing whisper and you realize you were holding your breath thinking about this. You have to get a hold of yourself. You can’t actually think you can get Elvis Presley. He’s the most lust-after man on the planet and you’re just his housekeeper. There’s nothing there. 

Cleaning the rest of the penthouse felt atomically challenging. Your head couldn’t focus on anything in front of you and it took 3 different tries to not leave streaks on the mirrors. Your mind kept replaying that kiss on your hand, the way his lips felt so plush and soft on your skin, and wanted them to kiss more than just your hand. The way his hand felt on yours, looking at those long skilled fingers enveloping your small fragile hand. Those fingers that have had years of callouses from playing guitar so much and would probably feel amazing if they were running along your back. 

Shit, focus. 

You look at yourself I’m the mirror and see how frazzled you look. The burning want in your eyes for this man is so palpable, you’re embarrassed you’ve gotten yourself like this. 

Checking your watch, it’s 8 o clock, way past the time you thought you’d be done but with all these distractions, you moved at a snail's pace today. You finally finish and do a last walk-through of the space, making sure nothing is out of place. 

“Mr. Presley I’m all finished. Did you need anything else?” You announce loudly, unsure of what part of the penthouse he’s in. You don’t hear an answer and continue to check everything over, even checking behind the curtains for any wandering champagne bottles, then shutting the curtains for the night. 

Passing by the door that you assume leads to his bedroom, you hear noises. Moans in fact. The door isn’t closed all the way and the glow of the tv shines through the crack. Everything in you told you not to pry but the mystery of his seclusion when it came to his bedroom quarters had your curiosity reeling. You slowly tip-toe to the doorframe, pressing your forehead to it to peek in. 

There was a large tv set against the wall with a mirror to the right of it. On the tv was a pornography movie playing with a man and woman touching each other and making all these sounds. The man was teasing the woman, squeezing her nipples and she let out a pent up moan. You couldn’t see anything else in the room until you looked in the reflection of the mirror. There you saw Elvis sitting on the edge of his bed in his robe, watching intently what was on the screen. His hair looked like he had just come out of the shower with some strands falling onto his forehead, making him look somehow even better than before. Your eyes go back to the tv and watch the man continue to tease the woman with his dick, rubbing his length in between her folds. She moans and your eyes flash back to Elvis, seeing his mouth slightly open and his intense eyes looking at the scene unfold on the screen. 

He looks so good like this, the lust slowly dripping over his face and the way his eyebrows started to furrow. You watched as his fingers pulled the robe ties loose and open the garment. He opens it letting the thick material fan open to expose his naked body underneath. 

You have to hold your breath when you see him sitting there. You haven’t seen many men naked, but this was as beautiful as they get. His body was toned and perfectly pale white all the way down to his toes. Your eyes can’t help but stop and stare at his length. It was a lot longer than you expected and made this feeling grow inside you. 

Want?

Need?

Lust?

Jealousy?

You weren’t sure what it was but God he looked so good. He brings his hand up to his mouth and he spits in it, wrapping it around his length and he starts to rub it back and forth in his hand. You didn’t care what was on the tv you just wanted to watch him. He focuses on the tip of his cock, rubbing some of his precum along the shaft. There’s a vein that pops from his neck the longer he does this, making you wish you could just bite there. 

The moans escalate from the movie and his hand picks up pace, making his own delicious moans that drown out the others. Standing there you cross your legs, squeezing your thighs together as you realize that you’re starting to get wet from just watching him. 

“Oh fuck,” he moans, soft and sultry. His voice brings you a zing of pleasure straight to your core. It scared you that this is how this man makes you feel but you can’t help but keep watching the scene in front of you. 

Another moan slips from his beautiful mouth and his hand jerks his length harder. Your breathing picks up and that need inside you grows. You feel so naughty, so dirty for even remotely liking this. 

“Mmm, yes… you like that,” his voice dripping in temptation making you shiver. 

His hand stops suddenly and your eyes travel up to see his face. There you see piercing ice blue eyes looking back at you in the mirror. His eyes look dangerous and wild, hungry for attention and you were their prey. Your heart thumped louder than it ever did before and your stomach flipped. You quickly back away from the door and make a run for it. 

You swing open the front door open and pull the cleaning cart through after you, making the heavy door slam loudly. Your heart keeps ringing in your ears and you feel like you could throw up at any second. The guys standing in the hallway stare at you like you’ve gone absolutely crazy. You advert your eyes away from their gazes and slam the elevator button, making the doors open quickly and you rush inside. Pulling the cleaning cart in just in time before they close and you press the basement button. 

The elevator cart lurches down and you crouch over, hugging your knees to your chest and feeling like you’ve just jumped into the biggest trench you’ve ever seen, and its filling up with water fast. You have to gasp for air and felt dizzy with everything that you just saw. 

But he was so distracting, so beautiful, you wanted more of him. You knew it was wrong. You were still very much engaged to another man. To a man that doesn’t even care to ask how your day was. 

There was too many confusing thoughts in your head and you had to get out of this place and clear it. You finally reach the locker room and change, shredding off your uniform and grabbing your purse before running to your car. 

You drove through the city like a wanted criminal. Almost blowing red lights and switching lanes any time you felt that person was going too slow. You just needed to be alone and gather your thoughts and calm down. Pulling into the driveway, you quickly turn off the car and rush to get inside. 

Locking the door behind you, you let out a sigh of relief that you’re alone. 

“What are you doing home so late?” Daniel’s voice booming in the otherwise silent house making you tremble even more. 

“I uh, I had some overtime today, it’s busy season because Elvis is in town,” you say assuredly. It wasn’t a total lie. The hotel would get fully booked every time he was there for his residency and would have to put in some extra time cleaning rooms and washing towels and sheets. 

“Ah yeah, I forgot that bum is in town,” he shrugs. His tone stings at you for whatever reason and you move into the living room to put your purse down, trying not to make a big deal about it and try to calm yourself down. He sits down on the couch to put his shoes on and you see what he’s wearing. He had his three-piece navy blue suit on he always wore to work and he did look very handsome in it. The blue made his eyes stand out. 

“You look nice tonight,” you say softly. He doesn’t look at you and nods his head as he goes to grab his keys, “thanks, I’m off to work see you later,” he says dryly. 

The slam of the door doesn’t make you flinch and you sit there annoyed more than anything. You get up to lock the top bolt and feel the stillness of the house as you turn around. You’re used to the silence but today it felt different. 

Heading into the bedroom, you take off your uniform after a very long and eventful day. Sliding the skirt off your hips, you feel something odd between your legs. You pull your panties down too and see the slick that has gathered at the bottom of them. Your cheeks redden, shocked that he made you that wet by just watching him. 

You haven’t been this aroused in years and it terrified you that Elvis had that much power over you. He barely even touched you and you were a wreck. You couldn’t even imagine how it would feel if he touched you intimately…

You quickly take a shower and let the hot water run down your tired body. Trying to calm yourself down, you take your time and wash your hair. Turning off the faucet, you wrap your towel around you and scurry to the bedroom to get your pajamas. Reaching into the dresser for a pair of panties, you throw them on the bed as well as your matching pajamas. You pat your body dry and sit on the edge of the bed, thankful for the soft plush mattress to soothe your tired body. 

Unwrapping the towel, you grab the pair of panties you got out and start to slip them on. But something catches your eye; the arousal that continued to leak out of you. Your heart thumps loudly and you let out a frustrated groan. The effect this man left on you is dangerous. Your body could not forget the feeling he gave you by just being in his presence. The nervousness, the intrigue, the lust, all of that burned inside you as you feel your clit begin to throb because of him. Your fingers carefully slide down and find your aching bud. You take a sharp breath in as you discover how sensitive it is.

Rubbing it in slow circles, you feel so much relief, so much pleasure instantly that you’re pretty sure it’s not going to take you very long until you come undone. The amount of slick that came out of you was embarrassing but you didn’t care, you kept focusing on yourself.

Suddenly those long calloused fingers flash in your mind and your heart gallops at this salacious thought. You can’t help it, in this very moment, you wanted to have those fingers touch you in places that hasn’t gotten any attention in ages. Your hips involuntarily grind into your finger and a louder airy moan comes out of you. Your index and middle finger glide through your sopping folds and moan more as you rub them on your clit, sending another shock in your body.

“Oh god,” you moan breathlessly, putting more pressure on your bud. 

You feel that coil in your belly tighten and about to snap any second. You let your head fall back and squeeze your eyes closed, working yourself up to orgasm.

His voice echoes in your head, the sound of his gruff voice making you tingle when you thought of how it sounded when he was pleasuring himself.

You like that?... you hear his voice again and you cry out in frustration.

You feel your walls flutter and cry out, feeling the euphoric feeling take over your body.

“Ohmygod,” you moan out, “Oh my god E-Elvis,” you hiss and you gasp at what just came out of your mouth so easily. You sit there shaking, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm reel through your body. You felt horrified you just moaned out his name. What the hell was wrong with you?! This should not be happening. You could not be fantasizing about another man, especially one that is Elvis. 

A dark shadow moves in the corner of your eye and you snap your head in the direction of the bedroom door. There’s nothing there but a huge chill runs down your body and your breathing continues to grow heavy. You were being paranoid and the shame and guilt ran through you. 

It was probably nothing. You were the only one home. Just your imagination running wild and making yourself crazy. You get up and shut the bedroom door and lock it for safe measure.

You get underneath the sheets and focus on your breathing. 

You had to get a hold of yourself. You can’t let this get out of hand. You can’t let yourself succumb to his charm. Go to work and don’t get distracted.

Yeah, good luck.

Tagging 🖤 :

@powerofelvis @plasticfantasticIOver @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18lkpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jacqueline19997 @returntopresley @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86

[angst-king]

okay since i've been a die-hard Kiribaku boy (i'm a huge multishipper its just one of my comfort ships. there will be a few sad ones, nothing crazy I promise)

here are some of my HCs for this ship -they confessed to each other while training. Kiri literally had Bakugou pinned down on a mat when he said "I like you alright!" - Bakugou can be surprisingly cuddly n warm and kiri can be surprisingly cold when they want to be - they can trade clothes pretty easily since most of the time Bakugou wears baggy clothing - Kiri likes when Bakugou gives him head pats when his hair is down - they're both rough kissers - its obvious bakugou isn't the best with vocalizing his feelings so he makes food for Kiri as a show of love or appreciation - both of them snore but they have a joke argument every so often about it - forget the 'who wears the pants' or 'who's the top' question. lets ask who's the one who has no problem confronting the waiter or server when their food is messed up (its bakugou, Kiri will eat poison with a smile if Bakugou doesn't do it for him) - they both keep track of each other's lil eating preferences. Kiri has memorized Bakugou's preferred hot sauce and spices and substitutes. While Bakugou has a list of Kiri's favorite sweets (sad HCs) - Kiri often has nightmares about the rescuing bakugou mission, he knows it went well, if it didn't bakugou wouldn't be snuggling him. yet his mind isn't exactly kind to him most days - Bakugou often has a swing/Blast first ask questions later responds if you touch him from behind on the shoulder or neck. - bakugou is more of an external panic while Kiri is internal. The only way Baku knows Kiri is having anxiety or a panic attack is his eyes. He can often see the fear in his eyes. or Kiri will refuse to make eye contact - they have a lil 'ritual' they do before they have to go on long missions or out of the country work. It was something Kiri started after the war, and at first bakugou thought it was dumb but he humored him. the one time bakugou didn't do it Kiri almost died and he blamed himself for it horribly. (more non-sad HCs) - Meeting eachother's families went better than either of them could have expected. Bakugou was genuinely worried his mother would scare off Eijirou or his mothers (yes I will die on my eiji having two moms hill) - Bakugou has a childhood plushie named Bomber that go tossed by his mother on accident (I promise she's not evil ya'll. i may not like her but she's not a monster in general) so Kiri took Bakugou to build-a-bear and got him a new one that Bakugou sleeps with when Kiri goes on away missions - Kiri's favorite holiday is chrismas, bakugou is glad though that kiri waits till the end of November to decorate. he does find it adorable to see him all excited. they even go Christmas tree shopping (yes they get a real one) - Bakugou loves fall, he's not the biggest sweets person or sweet drink person but when he's in the mood he will get fall drinks or just make them himself - they have snowball fights during winter, their neighbors find it to be the most entertaining thing ever - Even as adults their lil shenanigans never stop

[scucharlie]

TELL ME ABOUT THE BPD SLIME .. tell me ..... please ..............

MUTUAL QSMP SLIMERIANA OFC you have unlocked the silly guy ver of pandora's box >:3 this will not be ogrnaized just me going down bpd sympotms and pointing out how many fit qslime o7

A PATTERN OF INSTABLE RELATIONSHIPS -

1) with his dad , as we've heard in like early qsmp

2) mariana. I feel like this one shows more w mariana, for obvious reasons! like how they had a rocky relationship and he would often insult mariana / act like he hated her but would not let bbh insult her , and has shown to care for her multiple times

OH WHEN so after he saw quackity w a picture of Mariana he walked home saying "Mariana cheated on me - I fucking knew it, I've got nothing, I've nothing in the end I've got nothing." < man who fights with but also is insanely attached to his wife

CHRONIC FEELINGS OF EMPTYNESS -

GODDD I can't remember WHEN but I know he mentioned feeling numb or empty around foolish 💔💔 HEELLLLL

INTENSE MOOD SWINGS -

the beginning of the qsmp with mariana, does the gegg thing count? when he found quackity with mariana's photo and attacked the bull, I don't know if I count when juanaflippa died bc obviously his daughter died but! intense moodswihg between that!

EXOLOSIVE ANGER -

^ juanaflippa dying , when he was with mariana , him seeing the quackity picture, there's probably more examples

IMPULSIVE SELF DESTRUTIVE BEHVAIOUR -

exile is the BIGGEST example! (of self destructive stuff at least) obviously he fucked off into a island and completely isolated himself from everyone, and even on exile he wasn't taking care of himself and had very little stuff

attempting to kill the eggs, obviously impulsive,

drinking is another one, he did drink after juana died << again one that can be excused as, well his daughter died

UNCLEAR OR SHIFTING SELF IMAGE -

gegg. literally just the entire gegg arc WAS JUST THIS

FEAR OF ABANDONMENT -

again, it's like I feel like it shows with lije - even with everything, how during the funeral stream he said how he only has mariana left / not quoted i kinda remember this quote / there are probably better examples, but im kinda blanking x_x Mariana was / is a fp throygh cmon

this was probably kinda incoherent 💔💔 but tldr he has bpd to me end post :3

[cursedbanalities]

"There Was a Hole Here..." (A Horror Story)

Index

Kate looked at him half surprised, “Wait, what do you mean?”

“I mean there was a hole here,” he knocked on the wall causing a dull, hollow sound to echo on the other side. “It’s gone now. Yep, someone must’ve patched it right up.”

“Well, that’s impossible!” Kate exclaimed, half chuckling and half trying to tell if he’s pulling her leg, “I mean, ugh I wish you were pranking me or something ‘cause that’s awful. I feel like I keep hearing freaky shit coming out of this wall. Like, I don’t know, faint voices, or something.”

“Well, sorry ta’ say Kate, but I ain’t able ta’ do a whole lot,” he scratched the back of his head. “The buildin’ next door’s prolly got some animals making noises, er’ druggies er’ some shit,” he lets out a raspy belly laugh, before coughing hard into his fist and clearing his throat. He saw Kate’s scowl and put on a guilty look. “Sorry, I know it ain’t funny,” he said, clearing his throat. “That buildin’ over there’s abandoned, though. Has been fer a while, and I personally check it fer squatters. I’ve been through there… prolly a dozen times and I ain’t never seen a hole. Chances are the other side is all bricked up, and this here little tunnel is all that’s left o’ it.”

Kate rubbed her temples. Of course. Not only did half of the stuff in this godforsaken “luxury” apartment barely work– this is the fifth time she’s had to call her landlord in the past month for plumbing, heat and electrical problems– but now there’s a mysterious un-filled hole in her wall. Great.

 “Okay, okay. Can you fill it in now? I don’t want any raccoons or anything tearing into my wall,” she sounded more exasperated than she meant, but this has really thrown a wrench in her mood.

“Erm, suuure,” he sighed and scratched his head. “I mean, we need ta’ get a permit from the city which’ll take a few days. This is an area ‘tween two buildings, so it might be considered a 'major renovation' under city code. I know a few people in the city ‘cause of my drywall business, so they should be able ta’ give us ‘special permission,’” he says with air quotes. “I also own the building next door. Been meanin’ ta’ make it into a rental like this one. I’ll swing by with some tools and start fillin’ it in maybe… in a week er’ so?”

Kate started to complain, groaning and throwing her hands up, but decided to take a deep breath before throwing a fit. It’s not like she had any choice in the matter, anyways. “Well, thanks Ed,” she sighed. “I wish it could be done sooner, but the fact you’re doing this for free is really better than the alternatives, so… yeah.”

Ed shrugged, “Hey, what’re landlords for, eh? See ya next week, and try not to have that ‘hole’ thing stress ya out too much, okay? It’s the middle o’ the summer, so it’s not like any of those pests over there are tryin’ ta’ find someplace warm. Hell, I’ll fix it up before you dwell on it too long!” 

Kate nodded, but wished she could believe him.

***

Waiting for the week to go by was agonizing, especially since Kate still had work to worry about. Thoughts about the hole in her wall thrashed around in her mind; she had to be careful about it, otherwise those thoughts would eventually wrap around her mind, constricting and crushing her sanity like a metaphysical anaconda. Her biggest fear was coming home to a pack of rabid raccoons ripping her whole life to shreds— or worse, a person who’d do the same thing. 

She spent most of her days at work alleviating her anxieties rather than doing anything productive. Security cameras were an idea Kate had, but the earliest she could get them installed was after the hole would’ve been filled. She thought she could fill it herself, but figured Ed would make her pay if she somehow made the problem worse. By the time the weekend rolled around, Kate was beginning to feel anxious about even the slightest things. Open sewer grates, the bagels she ate, even the pores on her face reminded her of that closed tunnel. Even now, as she sits at her desk on a Friday, tapping her pencil and trying to avoid staring at the perforated ceiling tiles, her anxiety was through the roof. Five o’ clock couldn’t come soon enough.

Kate really needed a vacation.

Unfortunately, the closest she could get to Margaritaville was at the bottom of a glass. Her friends took her out to the bar and laughed at her when she talked about the hole in her life, which seemed to be a back-handed way at making her feel better. Though, it could’ve been the drinks they shared and the jokes they made about each other’s lives that lifted Kate’s spirits.

For once this week, Kate forgot about raccoons or people inside of her walls. She even forgot about Ed and his stupid inability to do a complete job the first time. The only thing she remembered at this point was how to get home and get into bed, and that’s all she needed.

***

Kate woke with a groan. Her head pounded and stomach flipped as she stood up.

Ugh. She definitely had a few too many.

Hungover and exhausted, she stumbled into her bathroom and washed her face with cold water to shake the night away. She took a couple of long drinks from the faucet as well. The gulps were desperate. She was taking in the water like a wrung out sponge. It actually helped a bit— at least her stomach wasn’t doing backflips anymore. It was just cartwheels, instead.

Kate decided to brush her teeth as a way to sober herself up more, and was halfway through brushing her teeth when she noticed it. Her eyes widened as she focused on it: somehow, there was a large hole in her bathroom wall. Large enough for a person to easily crawl through. 

Kate peered into the hole with her brow furrowed and toothbrush hanging in her mouth. Toothpaste starts to drip from her mouth and onto her outdated bathroom tiles, but she’s so taken aback by the sudden appearance that doesn’t even notice. The hole in the wall seemed to go on for a while, and it was dark. Too dark for Kate to see the end of it, even when she shined her phone flashlight into it. The inside of the hole was strange, too. It was made of a brownish cement with ridges every inch of it. She has never seen anything like it. 

She spat her toothpaste out and called her landlord as she cleaned herself up. He didn’t pick up the first couple of calls, but on the third try Kate finally got through to him. He sounded groggy, and angry that she’s calling him.

“Geez o’ petes Kate! Y’know it’s my day off, right? What the hell’s going on?” 

Kate’s voice wavered, still shaken from the hole that seemingly appeared in her wall, “L-listen, do you remember that hole in my wall that was ‘gone?’ I-it’s back.” 

The landlord sighed, “Shit, uh, whaddya mean it’s back? Like, sum animal tore its way in ta’ your bathroom?”

Kate shook her head and looked at the hole, “No, it’s like… I don’t know. It’s grafted into the wall, I guess... Like it’s always been there, or maybe like the wall itself just opened up.” The landlord chuckles, causing Kate’s nostrils to flare and her brows to furrow. 

“Listen hun, I know yer stressed about this whole thing-“

“Don’t fucking call me ‘hun,’ Ed. I know what I’m looking at.” She ran her finger along the edge of the hole as she said this, trying to see if there were any gaps indicating it had somehow been added to the wall recently. Instead, it seamlessly blended from white drywall to a strange brownish-gray cement. “Just get your ass over here, please. I cannot go the rest of the weekend thinking I’ll get jumped by raccoons.”

Ed started to say something just as a sound emanated from the hole, causing Kate to jump. It was a strange, strained noise coming from deep in the hole. It started out low, and Kate told Ed to stop talking so she could hear it better. After a second, she realized it was a voice. It was strained and weak, though. Like someone was standing on their chest.

“Kkkkh— khhhaaaaayyyy….aaaatttttttteeeee,” said the voice. “Khhh-Kaaaaattttteeee, hhhhh….hhhheelp me… help me, please!” The voice sounded feminine—slightly deep and distorted as well. Maybe she’s saying it through the hole on the other side of the wall, or maybe she’s stuck in there somehow. Either way, Kate went through a paroxysm of shock. Even though she spent most of her week stressing over someone/something tearing through her wall, the idea of a woman in need was the last thing she expected.

She was silent for a while, ears ringing as she stared at the hole in a horrified silence. After a second, she realized that she still had her phone in her hand. Ed was still yapping, asking Kate where she went. She put the phone to her ear.

“Ed… Ed!” She said, interrupting him. “I think there’s someone inside the fucking hole.” Ed was silent for a second, which seems like an eternity for Kate. The continuous pleading from the woman in the hole grew louder, and more frantic. Finally, Ed just laughed.

“Kate, what- what’re ya talkin’ about?” There was a sense of nervousness in his voice. 

“Listen!” Kate placed her phone up to the hole, allowing Ed to hear the pained wails. After a second, she put her phone back to her ear. “Do you believe me now?” She said, half panicked and half impatient. “Please, you gotta swing by and help. I’m gonna call 911 and crawl in there, or something.”

Kate heard a quiet “Fuck,” come from Ed. Then, he said in a surprisingly stern voice, “Kate listen ta’ me. Do not go into that hole and do not call the cops. I’ll be there in an hour. If anythin’, lock yer bathroom door. Better yet, leave yer apartment. See ya soon.”

Before she had a chance to protest, Ed hung up. It was her turn to cuss, since the idea of just hanging back while this woman was in pain wasn’t one she was entertaining, especially as her cries grew in intensity. Kate wondered if anyone else in the building could hear it.

Screw Ed, she thought. This hole is probably big enough for me to crawl through. If Ed’s going to take that long to lug his ass over here, I might as well just crawl in myself. Besides, these buildings aren’t that far apart. I’ll be back before Ed’s even left his place!

Kate rummaged through her kitchen drawers until she found her flashlight, not wanting to take her phone in case she somehow broke it. She shined the flashlight down the hole, and it hit the darkness as though it hit a wall of black just fifteen feet away. She sighed.

Maybe it’s a bit further out than I anticipated, Kate thought, but still shook her hands to amp herself up. She’s going to go in there regardless. After the time she’s spent in this apartment, she couldn’t trust Ed to find his own ass. Putting her flashlight into her mouth, she grabbed each side of the hole. It was warm to the touch, almost matching her body temperature. It was a weird sensation, but Kate still dove headfirst into the mysterious hole that appeared in her bathroom wall.

She crawled into the darkness. The ridges every inch give good finger holds as she crawls on her hands and knees into the darkness. She realized that she’s been crawling for a while— much longer than what it should’ve been. She tried to turn around to see how far from her bathroom she had crawled so far, but she couldn’t see her bathroom anymore. In fact, it was hard to even turn around and look, the hole itself seemed to have shrunk since she went in, now closing around her shoulders and hips. Panic flared inside of her, and she tries to back up, but something was blocking her. Somehow, a wall came up behind her. After a couple of deep breaths, Kate figured the only way out was to go through, and went onwards. After what felt like a half an hour of crawling she ends up on her stomach. Her arms were like jello. She didn’t know if she’s even the one dragging herself along anymore. For all she knew, the hole is the one pushing her along, bringing her deeper and deeper into its bowels. The warm concrete ridges of the hole scrape against the exposed skin on her arms, legs and stomach. They feel raw, but it doesn’t matter. The hole Kate found herself in was getting tighter, crushing her and making it harder to breathe. The air was stale, and her lungs were being squeezed, causing her to only take short breaths. It hurt. Everything vibrated around her, but she didn’t know when that started. It’s hot. She’s sweating. She can’t breathe.  Even if Kate wanted to turn around, or push herself backwards, she couldn’t. Her arms were pinned to her side, and her head barely had enough space to look forward. She could feel her shoulders begin to pop out of socket. Her ribs cracked. Eventually, her flashlight went out, and she’s left in the all-consuming darkness.

***

Ed unlocked Kate’s door with his skeleton key for the building. He’s pissed at her, and rightfully so, he felt. The bitch who’s been ringing his phone nonstop since she moved in can’t seem to answer hers the one time Ed needed her to. Of course she just had to keep him locked out, too! Ungrateful fucking tennants, he thought.

“Kate! I’m here ta’ fix that damned hole ya keep yammerin’ about!” He stood in the doorway of her apartment. The lights were all still off except for the bathroom. The light seeps out of the doorway, slightly brighter than the glow of the afternoon sun. The silence was deafening, and Ed shifted uneasily. “Aight, well… I’m comin’ in! Don’t call the cops on me, er’ nothin’.” 

He muttered under his breath as he walked into the bathroom, complaining about how much of a bitch Kate was– so much of one that she wouldn’t even speak to him! He stopped in his tracks, though, when he saw the hole in the wall… and no sign of Kate. It’s not until he peered into the hole that he heard her. 

She’s sobbing, calling out to him.

“Eeeeehhhh…. Eeeeeeeeehhhhhddddd,” Her voice called between choked sobs. “Eeeeehhhhhddwaarrddd… hhhhhh….Heeellp me… Help me PLEASE! ” 

Ed swore under his breath. Then, he said to the hole, “Fuckin’…this is the fourth one this year, you piece o’ shit!” He kicked the wall underneath the hole out of frustration, putting another hole into the wall from his steel toe boot. He unleashed a steady stream of cusses, “Great. Just great. Now I need ta’ find another tennant and fill another fuckin’ hole!” He looks into the hole, puts his hands on either side of it, and yells in, “I hope yer happy, diggin’ around in holes ya didn’t belong in!”

Ed quickly plastered the hole from his foot. It was child’s play. He fixes holes in drywall like this three times a day. He looked into the hole that swallowed Kate one last time. The uneasy darkness seemed to reach out to him. Kate continued to scream his name between raspy sobs, but he shrugged it off. He knows that isn’t Kate. Not any more.

He plugged up the hole after an hour of work. Then, he went home and put up a new ad online for Kate’s old apartment:

“A wonderful one-bedroom apartment for rent in downtown Lansing. Rent is $2,500 a month. Fully furnished and recently retouched after the unexpected departure of the previous tenant. Aside from added luxuries, there was a hole in the bathroom wall…

 “...it’s gone now.”

[[I hope you all enjoyed this piece! I first wrote this when shopping for apartments in my state. It felt like, despite having a nice job at the time, nothing was good enough. Those of you who are nerds like me probably recognize the title of this piece. I was inspired by Silent Hill 2 and 4, but it doesn’t go much further than that, haha.]]

[[See you all next time!! 💜]]

Index

[briamichellewrites]

43

Mike went back and forth between Bria and Jason. She found out that he knew about their hookup. He admitted Jason had implied it. She didn’t know how to feel about that. He let her know that while he didn’t like it, mostly because of his brother being under the influence of alcohol, he couldn’t do anything about it. What about them? He asked her what she meant. What about them? She loved him and she thought they would become something more than just friends.

He sighed because he was going to break her heart. No, he couldn’t do that to her because he loved her too much. He didn’t want to trigger her fear of abandonment if they ever broke up. As much as he wanted to make her his girlfriend, he had to be the one to say no to her. He had to be the one she could go to. She sat down on the floor.

He sat down beside her and wrapped his arms around her. She got angry with him and he could tell. Tears were running down her eyes. He had triggered an episode and he was fully prepared for her to hate him. She had done it before when he went home to visit his parents.

“Fuck you. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me! I fucking love you.”

She got up, grabbed her keys, and walked out. He sighed before getting down on the floor. She was angry with him again. You didn’t do anything wrong, Mike. But he felt he had. He hurt her just because he thought he was protecting her. As he sat on the floor, he thought about how to make it up to her. How could he apologize to her? He heard the door open again, so he slowly got up.

It was her still in tears. He walked over to her and wrapped her in his arms. I’m sorry, Mikey.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay. I’m here.”

Mood swings. Anger. Splitting. Black and white thinking. He saw some of the symptoms of her BPD played out in front of him. When she settled down, he hoped they could have a serious conversation about their friendship. His biggest fear was losing her as a friend. He would do everything he could to make sure she was okay because he would worry about her self-medicating with men, alcohol, or drugs. Just like her mother did.

After a while, she stopped crying. He kissed her forehead. She begged him not to leave her. He looked her in the eyes and promised her he would never do that. She wiped her tears from her face. He was going to do everything he could to keep that promise. If everyone walked away from her, he would be the one who stayed. He had to because he saw the girl inside of her begging to be loved.

He saw the amazing woman she was. Her mental health issues were not her fault. He had so much compassion and empathy for her. Her mind was unwell and it was always looking for signs of abandonment. It tricked her into believing things that weren’t true. The world she once saw as safe had suddenly become dangerous. She didn’t know who she could trust. That was another reason why he couldn’t be her boyfriend. He had to be that safety net.

That was the last time he saw her. He tried reaching out to her but she wasn’t answering her phone. After twenty-four hours of not hearing from her, he called Brad to see if he could try getting a hold of her. He would try but he couldn’t promise anything. Thank you. He was concerned she would do something to hurt herself. What was he talking about? Did anything happen?

He told him everything, including how she had become angry with him. Ever since her diagnosis, she seemed to be getting worse. He didn’t know if she needed help or what was going on. Now, she wasn’t answering her phone.

If anyone hears or sees Bria, please let Mike or me know. She’s not answering her phone. She might be having a BPD episode. – Brad

Phoenix decided to go over and make sure she was okay. She was with another man. He introduced himself as Adrien Brody. After saying goodbye to her, he walked out the door. Phoenix sighed as she asked him why he came over. Because Mike was worried about her. He saw her bow her head in shame. What happened? She had him follow her to her studio because the doorway was not a good place to talk.

The dogs followed behind them. When they got to her studio, they sat down. He asked her again what happened. I thought you and Mike were close. They were. Were?

“I fucked up and got angry with him.”

“Bria, please talk to me. I want to help you.”

“He deserves a better friend than me. I got angry when he said he didn’t want to date me and I yelled at him.”

She wiped the tears that were coming down. He then heard everything that happened between her and Mike. Was she beating herself up? Yes. He hugged her and let her cry. She left him but came back because she felt so bad about getting angry. Now, her mind was beating her up and calling her a horrible friend. No, she wasn’t. She had a moment where she lost her temper. They all had them. Mike was not angry or upset with her. He was worried about her.

I found her at home. She is upset with herself over getting angry with you. I’m going to stay with her until she’s okay. I’ll let you know when I leave. – Phoenix

Thank you. Yes, please let me know. I’ll let everyone know that you’re with her. – Mike

Everyone was relieved to find out she was safe! What happened? He told them everything and how hard she had taken it. Was he okay? No, but he would be. He didn’t blame her at all. It was her mind making her believe something that wasn’t true. She reacted the way she felt was appropriate in the moment. Then, she came back and apologized to him.

Phoenix listened to her. Even though they broke up, he would always love her. She slowly came out of her episode and was able to think rationally again. Woody purred while rubbing his face against her leg. He hoped it would help her feel better. She picked him up and set him on her lap. He continued purring as she petted him. That feels good. Thank you, human! Phoenix laughed a little. Who was the guy who just left? Adrien. She met him at In-N-Out Burger while hanging out with Jason.

They were just hanging out. What happened to the other guy? He was here and there making movies. They talked over text messages. It was hard dating an actor because they were always gone. Yes, he could see how that would be difficult. Whoever she dated, he wanted them to treat her well because she deserved it. Thank you. She was very welcome.

I just left Bria’s. She’s doing better. I’ll call her later and see how she’s doing. Can I meet you somewhere? – Phoenix

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[sleepysnk]

Hey can you do Uchiha men x pregnant reader headcanons like how they try their best to comfort the reader..plz do Indra, Madara, Obito and Itachi. 🌙🤍

a/n: AHHHHHHHHH i love this 😩 these are so cute! thank you for requesting babes! enjoy :) i decided to not do indra because i haven’t seen him yet, nor do i know how to write him very well. i hope you understand!

characters: itachi uchiha, madara uchiha, obito uchiha

warnings: fluff, canonverse, non massacre au, mentions of pregnancy, some suggestive content.

Itachi Uchiha:

- oh my goddddd, imagine telling itachi that you’re pregnant. he would honestly flip his shit and he would NOT know how to act at first.

- in all seriousness though, itachi would be SO excited to start this new chapter of your lives. he loves children, and the idea of you being finally pregnant was so amazing to him. he couldn’t contain his happiness when he found out. he almost fell over and passed out from excitement.

- he is a gentleman! so expect him to do absolutely everything for you. he won’t let you lift a finger.

- itachi would fall in love with your baby bump. he’s always felt that he feels closer to your baby whenever he lays his head on your belly. it’s such a comforting feeling to know that his child is growing inside of you. he made something special with you.

- his family would be so happy for you two! expect his mother to constantly visit to help you both out. she knows pregnancy can be pretty difficult, and she wanted to give you as much advice as she could.

- expect itachi to keep an eye on you whenever he has the opportunity. his biggest fear is loosing you or your baby, so he tends to get a little worried whenever you go out without him by your side. the shinobi world can be very dangerous, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to you. he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if that happened.

- he deals with your food cravings or random mood swings. surprisingly, itachi handles them very well. he gets you anything you want to eat and he listens to you if you get mad about something.

- PICKING BABY NAMES WAS SO HARD FOR YOU TWO 😭. itachi had so much fun trying to pick out names.

- if you have morning sickness, you best believe he will make you something to eat or run you a bath to comfort you. the last thing he’d want is to be a bad husband who didn’t help his wife out during her pregnancy.

- he knows how tired you can get, so sometimes he lets you fall asleep on top of him. he would hold you so close and whisper sweet nothings into your ear while you sleep. he just loves you so much 😔.

- “i’m so happy to be blessed with you and our child.. i love you, y/n.”

- when your bump got a lot bigger, itachi would never stop touching it. when you two both go out, he keeps his hand on your stomach, or if you’re cooking something he’ll put both of his hands on you. he loves to feel your baby kick 😭.

- SASUKE IS SO SUPPORTIVE. you already know this guy is excited to be an uncle.

- itachi panicked one night, because you played a prank on him that you were in labor, but you just wanted to see his reaction.

- he would be so excited to become a dad 🥰, so expect him to be perfect. you couldn’t ask for a better man in your life, and he is so so loving.

Obito Uchiha:

- obito would be such a different dad compared to itachi and that’s just my personal opinion.

- when he found out you were pregnant, obito didn’t know how to act. he was genuinely really shocked that you two were both having a baby. he didn’t really have much experience with kids, and being honest, he was kind of scared about this. what if he failed as a father? what if he did something wrong and you hated him?

- he was very worried, and you spent a lot of time convincing him there was no way he could fuck this up. you two were in this together, and you’d both help each other along the way.

- he was very careful with you. the poor guy got scared when he hugged you, because he thought it could hurt the baby. expect him to be very cautious at first, but it will eventually go away as the months go on. this is your first child together after all.

- obito tends to rub your belly a lot. he just likes the idea of holding your stomach. not to mention he just loves touching your skin. it makes him feel closer to you and the baby.

- such a worrywart 😭! he would get nervous when you don’t come back quick enough, or when he’s out on missions he would be thinking of you the whole time. kakashi would have to calm him down sometimes, and it would be kind of funny to see him freak out.

- lots of kisses ❤️! obito loves to kiss you all the time during your pregnancy, and you’d often kiss him to reassure him that you’re doing okay.

- he massages your body a lot when you feel sore or tired. obito would drop what he’s doing to give you a relaxing massage, and of course some kisses and sweet nothings in between them.

- he likes to make fun of you whenever you get up to pee a million times over night. of course, he’s just trying to poke some fun at you, but he can’t help but laugh whenever you sigh and stomp to the toilet again while he’s cuddling you. he once joked that you should get a toilet built into the bed so you don’t have to get up. you hit his arm and threatened to pee on him.

- morning sickness sucks, so expect this sweet guy to cuddle you up and shower you with his love. he lets you wear his clothes too, and he’d even bring you flowers as a gift :((.

- “shh.. just relax, okay, baby? you can lay on me all day.”

- he gets kind of sad when he realizes that your pregnancy is almost over. watching your bump grow definitely was his favorite part, and he kind of got a little attached to it. then he remembered that he’d meet your baby soon, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic about it. obito had been dreaming of this, and he would honestly count down the days until you’re due.

- kakashi often stops by to check in, obito considers him an uncle, and he wants him involved with your baby.

- he loves to leave little kisses on your belly, and he loves feeling your baby kick. one time he almost passed out because he felt a hand hit his when he was touching you. he swore that was his baby giving him a high five and he lost his shit.

- he’d be a good dad. he may be a little paranoid at first, but trust me, he will do his absolute best to give you and your child an amazing life <3.

Madara Uchiha:

- madara? as a dad? sit down babe, you’re about to see a real treat 😮‍💨.

- when you told madara you were pregnant, he was so happy and excited to finally have a child on the way. he wanted to start a family with you ever since you guys got together, and he was all in for this. he loved you so much, and he wanted to be a father so badly. you hadn’t seen him that happy before.

- you are treated like a fucking goddess. madara would do anything for you, and he always made sure to tend to your needs if you ever yearned for something.

- he’s very protective over you. if you thought he was a protective husband, wait until you see protective dad madara. he would barely let anyone from the uchiha clan get near you. he didn’t want anything bad happening to your baby, so expect his hand to be over your belly a lot, or him keeping an eye on strangers who were lingering around longer than they should have been.

- he would shove it in hashirama’s face 😭. he would brag how you were pregnant, and how that baby is going to be strong like him. you’d often hit him in the head if he was going a little overboard.

- madara is into pregnancy sex. he just loves the way your cunt feels, and there’s just something about it that he craves. if you’re feeling sore or tired, he’ll make sure to fuck it out of you.

- he gets a kick out of your mood swings, or your constant food cravings. he thought it was funny one night when he came back from a mission and caught you eating barbecue with chocolate syrup on it. he would NOT shut up about it 😭.

- his favorite thing to do is take a bath and let you lay on his chest. he’d place his hands on your bump and rub it, feeling your skin. he would be so proud that he made this life with you, and he couldn’t ask for anything else.

- madara wants a son so bad. he wants to teach your kid how to fight and defend themselves. you already know he’s praying for a boy.

- whenever you feel sick, he’d take the day off and spend it with you. he doesn’t give a fuck if someone needs him. you are his biggest priority, and leaving you by yourself would not be a good idea. especially if someone tries to hurt you. he’d probably leave a shadow clone around if he had no choice, but expect him to be around a lot more often when you’re pregnant.

- he likes to hold you tightly in bed. his biggest fear is someone coming in the middle of night and trying to harm you. his cuddles are warm and you definitely feel secure in his arms.

- as you got bigger, madara started showing you off a lot more. he wanted the whole world to know that you were having his child. he’d honestly think it’s the biggest flex ever 😭 and he would tell everyone he meets about it.

- madara would remind you how beautiful you are every single day. he would tell you that he’s so excited to meet your child, and how he’s fallen even more in love with you. he knows how you get insecure sometimes, so he always knows what to say to make you feel better. he would shower you with so much love on a daily basis.

- “you are so beautiful, my love. i can’t wait to bring our blessing into the world.”

- he would be SUCH AN AMAZING DAD. madara knows how to take care of you, and he would be so excited for this part of his life. he adores you and he can’t wait for it ❤️.

[ravenkinnie]

oh can you maybe talk about the bpd symptoms and how Jinx fits into them or rather what scenes in the show depict them? That would be so interesting

mind you, I'm not saying arcane set out to portray anything in particular, just that these are things I have noted in jinx and that's I've seen other people point out or relate to

cw for discussion of mental health issues ofc, self harm and suicide

obv she has intense fear of abandonment that pushes her to do impulsive or straight up insane things. it is tied to her self worth and her belief that she needs earn love and value - dinner party is one thing but even when she steals gemstones for silco in ep4. another aspect of this that jumps out of when she specifically hands vi the gun and tells her to kill caitlyn so vi can get powder back - obv jinx is hurt and is spiraling but she's very much manipulating vi there to test her love and that's something I've seen people do in so many ways: hurting themselves, withdrawing emotionally or physically, threats, even stupid little things such as 'if she replies within next hour then she loves me'

I talked about splitting and black and white thinking before ofc, the way she puts people (I mean specifically vi and silco) on a pedestal but if she feels they are against her she can devalue them completely - jinx in general seems to lack that object constancy where her image of and feelings about other people remain stable, they are transient based on most recent encounter (I'll give her credit that she's usually in insane situations where trust is v fragile, like vi disappeared for seven years in her mind and silco is a fishy ass mf)

I've mentioned it somewhere before too but while I don't like the concept of a favorite person and I don't like how it's used in bpd communities often, it is true that sometimes people will fixate on one person who becomes their whole identity and the focal point - I think for jinx that obv people who respond to that need to be taken care of, first vi then silco

on topic of that black and white thinking too, bpd is characterized by identity issues - jinx has a really interesting case of it where she split herself into powder and jinx as a way to conceptualize her identity. we know that there's no powder vs jinx, there's just this one person but putting herself on those two ends of a spectrum is how jinx understands herself

I don't feel like I even need to explain impulsive behaviour and mood swings dhdhhdnsn also self injury and suicidal ideation - none of these are specific to bpd, mind you, also you can be an impulsive emotional person without having any disorder but I have seen a lot of people relate to that. with sh and si, it's never outwardly shown or stated but I'm thinking of that moment on the bridge where jinx just gave up and it's clear that she was 100% ready to die

this isn't specific to bpd but it's def a sentiment I've seen a lot that because there's so much happening internally people become v self absorbed and it becomes hard to be interested in others. I don't think people really register to jinx as real people unless it's through her relationship to them, like I don't think caitlyn feels like an actual real person to her, she's just an obstacle, a concept of one

psychosis isn't, like, bpd-specific but bpd can have psychotic features, it's fairly common really. especially paranoid delusions which jinx does show, she easily believes someone is about to leave or get her, abandonment is also her biggest trigger, next to guilt

in conclusion, I thought about this meme when typing this

[freddie-weaselbee]

Someone Blue//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Slight language, angst, a lot of confusion, fluffy ending

Summary: Fred spots a familiar face at his brother’s wedding, and has a sinking suspicion about why she’s acting so upset during this time of celebration. 

Prompts: Enemies to Lovers (kind of) and Weddings with the dialogue prompts “you look like you need a hug” and “did you need something?”

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Day 1 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge 

Angelina looked absolutely ethereal, skin glowing in the shimmering lights as she glided across the grass as if it was a ballroom floor. Her white dress was slightly stained, mostly from when her now husband tackled her to the ground after their first kiss as a married couple, and yet it only made her seem all the more angelic. 

George’s feet seemed to never touch the ground. He was moving at record speeds, prancing and hopping and skipping around the dance floor, dragging his wife along with him. It was the most joyful Fred had ever seen him. 

Not when they left Hogwarts, not when they opened their shop, not even when Angelina said yes to the proposal could have compared to the happiness on George’s face. Nor Angelina’s. They were in a pure state of bliss. 

The rest of the wedding-goers seemed to match their energy. Fred couldn’t go anywhere without being bombarded with drunken laughs and horrid dancing, and the occasional congratulations or two from some tipsy guests who didn’t know that the man they were talking to wasn’t the groom. 

All in all, it was an amazing night. The field behind the burrow had become a traditional wedding venue for the growing Weasley children, so far hosting Bill, Percy, Ron, and now George’s days to remember. The tents and lights were all set up as they were with Bill and Fleur’s wedding, except this time there was no risk of Death Eaters ruining the event. Hopefully. 

However, while making his way around to talk to (and flirt with) the guests, Fred happened to notice one person who did not fit the overzealous tone. Well, he didn’t really happen to notice. Rather he’d been staring at her throughout the entire night, watching her somber mood break through her happy façade. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone. 

You were standing by yourself, but you weren’t secluded from the action. Rather, you were right in the middle of things, on the very edge of the dance floor, staring out at the masses of bodies swinging their partners around. Your arms were crossed over your chest, a defensive position that Fred had seen so many times in you before. 

He turned away and tried to ignore it. It wasn’t any of his business if you were upset. The two of you were barely even friends anymore. You had cut him out of your life so many years ago and never looked back. To this day, Fred still didn’t know why, and it killed him. 

He wanted to walk away. To go the other direction toward a beautiful guest wearing a flowing red dress, hair done up perfectly. The stranger would be the smart choice. A fun way to spend the evening, dancing around and snogging under moonlit trees. But, against his better judgement, Fred’s heart wouldn't let him leave. 

Sighing, Fred lifted his feet and made his way in the other direction, to the girl who couldn’t care less about him. 

You stood unmoving, except for a subtle sway to the music. People brushed by you, but you paid them no mind. You were too focused on something else. As Fred drew nearer, he was able to follow your line of sight to the people in question. The newlyweds. 

Fred bristled before softening slightly. Of course. This must be about George. Back at Hogwarts, Fred was positive you had the biggest crush on his brother. You were always tagging along with their jokes, even when they got you into huge trouble. You definitely spent more time alone with George than Fred, sharing whispers and stares at the expense of the older twin. He could never get George to break and tell him what you two talked about. George even took you to the Yule Ball in your 6th year. You had never looked as radiant as you did that night, except for maybe this moment. Fred wished he had asked you to dance at the ball, but he never worked up the courage to. He didn’t want you to internally grimace at the thought of dancing with the “lesser” Weasley twin when George was right there. 

In his recollection of memories, Fred hadn’t noticed how close he had gotten to you, and how you were no longer gazing at the couple dancing. You were now staring at him. 

“Did you need something?”

Fred was shaken out of his imagination, met with an annoyed glare but soft smile coming from you. His surprise was immediately replaced with his signature cocky grin, leaning his hand onto one of the wedding tables while keeping his gaze on you. Unfortunately, his hand accidentally dipped into a wine glass, but he quickly pulled it out and hoped you didn’t notice. You did. 

“Well, that’s not a very nice way to greet one of your oldest friends, now is it?” Fred wiped his wine-covered hand on his suit pants and slipped it into his pocket, pretending to be unbothered by his previous mistake. 

You turned your eyes away from him, once again gluing them to the dance floor. “I think it’s fitting, seeing as how you were creepily staring at me for about 5 minutes before I said something.”

Fred’s ears grew pink at the accusation. “I, umm, I didn’t realize it was that long. Or that you noticed. Sorry.” He bashfully rubbed the back of his neck, pretending to glance around at other guests who might interest him more. 

“You still haven’t answered me.”

Fred cocked his head to the side in question. 

“Why’d you come over here? Was there something you needed?”

“Ah, yes well,” Fred began smoothly, “I saw this darling beauty from across the tent and I just could not take my eyes off of her--”

“Fred,” you interrupted. You were looking at him again, your gaze piercing through him, forcing him to tell you the truth, to tell you everything about him. His fears, his hopes and dreams, what he had for breakfast this morning. He wanted to tell you it all. 

“The truth, please.”

Clearing his throat, and his mind of whatever thoughts just plagued him, Fred decided to be honest. You deserved that much. 

“You look like you need a hug,” he said, shrugging nonchalantly. 

Evidently, those were not the words you were expecting to hear. You were prepared with about a dozen quips to say in response to whatever cocky joke Fred was about to make. But he didn’t, and nothing could have prepared you for what he did say. 

“I--I need a what?”

“Sorry, have you lost your hearing or was I not loud enough? It’s definitely not the second; you’ve told me on numerous occasions that I have the biggest mouth of anyone you know.”

There it was. But it still made you giggle, relaxing and gravitating closer to your companion. 

“I heard you,” you said, “just wasn’t expecting that from you, I guess.”

Fred took a half step closer, visibly glad when you didn’t move away. “Wasn’t expecting me to have noticed your behavior, or wasn’t expecting me to care if I did?”

It took you a few seconds to respond. “Both.”

He let out a sound of understanding before you both averted your eyes, looking straight ahead. Occasionally, Fred would try to look at you using his peripheral vision, and you would do the same. It became a kind of game--just an awkward back and forth between two people who used to be so close, and were now so far apart.

You game ended when one of the wedding guests decided to clink their glass, beginning a chorus of high pitched chimes to echo throughout the room. You watched as George turned to find Angelina, running to her to give her a kiss so full of love and passion that it took everything Fred had not to shout out a joke and ruin the moment. He could do that next time. 

He noticed you stiffen at the kiss, presumably because it was just another reminder of what you couldn’t have. George. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a Weasley.”

Fred was surprised that you had spoken to him, and even more surprised about the turn the conversation had taken. 

“I grew up with you guys,” you continued, not waiting for Fred to respond. “Molly was like my second mother, even though she always liked Hermione and Harry a bit more than me.”

“Join the club,” said Fred, causing you to laugh loudly, a sound he hadn’t heard from you in ages. Godric, how he had missed it.

“It’s just…” you trailed off, not knowing if you wanted to be open with Fred, someone you hadn’t spoken to in years. Chances were, you wouldn’t keep in touch much after the wedding, so you might as well. What was there to lose? “It’s just...seeing Angelina, one of my best friends, dance around, wearing that ring, getting to be an actual Weasley. It’s...it’s making me a wee bit jealous.”

Fred watched you fidget with a bracelet on your wrist and decided to push his luck just a bit more. “And you’re wishing that it could be you wearing the ring, married to a certain Weasley gentleman?”

The shock was evident in your expression. “No, no, it’s not--I mean I never…” Sighing, you decided to come clean. “Yeah, I’ve maybe been harboring feelings for a certain twin for, oh I don’t know, my entire life. No biggie though, it’s totally fine that he never asked me out.”

The ginger beside you threw an arm around your shoulder, handing you a glass of wine in the process. “Drink. It makes everything better.”

You glared at him, but took the glass anyways, chugging it down in a few large gulps. “Another, please,” you demanded, and Fred obliged. 

You started to ease into Fred’s side, as soft and comforting as you remembered it to be, before realizing exactly what it was you were doing. “Fred, can I ask you something?”

“‘Course. You can ask me anything.” The absolute last thing Fred wanted to be doing at the moment was talking about your undying love for his twin brother, at his wedding no less, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Not seeing you for so long had had a harsher effect on him than he thought, and he didn’t want to leave your side. 

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, you asked him the question that had been plaguing your mind for years. The one that ate you from the inside out and kept you tossing and turning at night. The reason you had to separate yourself from your love in the first place. “Why am I not good enough?”

Your voice broke a tiny bit, but a lot less than you had been expecting. A tear did happen to slip out, and Fred quickly wiped it away, his fingertip resting on your cheek for a moment too long. 

“Y/N, love, come here.” Fred pulled you into that hug he had talked about earlier, holding you closely to his chest. If he thought you were going to appreciate the gesture, he was wrong. You pushed him away softly, refusing to let any more tears fall. 

“I’m serious, Fred. W-Why am I not good enough? I’ve made it clear for years and yet...nothing. And not even a simple rejection. I could’ve handled that, y’know. If I got a simple no, I could’ve handled it and moved on. But I never did, and it’s killing me. Why am I not good enough?”

It killed Fred to see you this upset, and it hurt him even more to see that the anger was directed at him and not at George. It was his brother that broke your heart after all, not him. “You are good enough!” Fred said, with enough truth and force that a little part of you believed it. “You’re, you’re too good! You’ve been by our side from the beginning and haven’t left it since. Well, we haven’t seen you in years, but that’s probably because of--”

You nodded, confirming what he thought. Your heartbreak had driven you away. 

“But other than that,” he continued, “you’ve been like my third arm. Any guy would be crazy to give you up, you know that?”

 A tiny smile grew on your face, but was gone as soon as it had arrived. “The timing...the timing was just all wrong, wasn’t it?” you asked. 

Fred nodded, watching his brother and his wife greet guests and take pictures that were sure to be on the mantle in the burrow as soon as the wedding was over. “Yeah, I guess so. The prick should’ve asked you out sooner.”

“Oh I agree wholeheartedly, he is a prick,” you said, poking his arm, a gesture that slightly confused him. “So, I’m guessing there’s no chance of anything happening now? No sliver of hope that maybe this could work out?”

He hated that he would be the one to crush your dreams, but he couldn’t let you keep living in false hope. “Well,” he said, “the wedding bands are on and they both said ‘I do.’ Kind of hard to come back from that. I’m sorry.”

You froze, now more befuddled than you had been all night. “I...what?”

Before Fred could say anything you reached to grab his left hand, checking his ring finger for something you knew wasn’t there, but you had to be sure. 

“Wedding bands? What in the world do you--” Realization hit you like a brick, and you wanted to slap yourself. Or Fred. Either one. But preferably the latter. 

“Frederick, my dear love, who do you think we have been talking about this whole time?” you asked, voice genuine but also teasing. 

Fred didn’t know what you all of a sudden found so amusing, but he was already doubting himself and he didn’t want you to make fun of him for whatever he had done wrong. 

“Umm, well you said a Weasley, and then you said a Weasley twin. So I thought the answer was obvious.”

“Say it,” you demanded. “Who have we been talking about? Who am I in love with after years of unrequited feelings?”

He felt like he was walking into a trap, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He hesitated for a few seconds before your searing gaze forced him to answer. “George. We’re talking about my brother George.”

No sooner had his words left his mouth than your hand came up to slap his head. “You idiot! Are you serious right now?”

Fred stood flabbergasted, racking his brain for who else you could have been talking about. George was a Weasley twin. You said you were in love with a Weasley twin. Who else was there?

“It’s you, you big oaf!”

Oh. OH! There were two Weasley twins, and he was one of them. Which meant…

“You’re in love with me?!”

By this point, heads were turned to watch the scene and people were not-so-subtly whispering to their partners. 

You dragged a still surprised Fred through the crowd and out of the tents, finding a secluded enough area where you could talk. 

Fred’s brain had still not been caught up. “It’s me? You’re in love with me? But, but what about George?”

You furrowed your brow, wondering how Fred could have so easily mistaken your feelings for him as those for another. “What about George?”

“You’re in love with him!”

“I most definitely am not!”

“The Yule Ball!” he spat out. “You went to the Yule Ball with him when we were 16!”

“Yes,” you said calmly, “and you went with Angelina, but I don’t see you two getting married. We went as friends and I talked to him about you the entire night. In fact, most of the time when we hung out I was talking about you. Made him swear not to tell though. I was never good about expressing my feelings.”

Fred put a hand to his head, a growing throb threatening to overtake his senses. “But why were you so sad tonight? You wanted to marry George!”

“No,” you said patiently. “I was sad because Angelina and George’s relationship worked out the way I was wishing one between you and I had. They fell in love during school, dated a few years later, and now she’s a part of your family. I wasn’t wishing it was just me out there with your brother. I was wishing that it was our wedding.”

You blushed heavily and buried your face in your hands, embarrassed by your bluntness about your feelings. “Oh, Godric, I shouldn’t have said that, now it’s more awkward. I, umm, I should probably get going.”

Fred grabbed your wrist before you could leave, pulling you into his chest. His eyes were wide, mouth hanging slightly ajar as he gazed down at your muddled expression. 

“It’s me. I’m the one you love.”

He said it as more of a declaration rather than a question, but you could tell that he needed confirmation. 

“Of course, Freddie,” you said. “It’s always been you.”

His hand wasted no time in going to the back of your head, pulling your face into his and melding your lips together in your first kiss with Fred Weasley. After the shock wore off, you were hastily kissing him back, hoping against all hope that he wouldn’t pull back and proclaim what a stupid mistake this all was. But he never did. You kissed and kissed and kissed until you were the one who had to pull back in order to catch your breath. 

It took you both a few seconds to realize what had just happened, and for the first time you both were at a loss for words. “That was, umm…” you mumbled, trying to think of what to say. 

“I love you too.”

Fred’s words were rushed out of his mouth, voice deep ragged. “I mean, when you said it was me, not George, that you loved. I, well, I love you too. Always have. Guess I just thought that you had a thing for George and I had no chance. Pretty silly of me, huh?”

“Downright stupid of you,” you replied, giggling as he pushed you away with a bashful smile gracing his lips. 

“So,” he said quietly, inching closer to you once again, “is there a chance of anything happening now?” Fred repeated the words you had said earlier, making you smile wider than you had all night. 

“Depends,” you said. “Are you gonna get the courage to ask me out?”

Fred waited for a moment before answering. “How about,” he said, offering his arm out for you to link with yours, “we have that dance we never got at the Yule Ball. And then that date we never got after, and then that relationship we never got as well. Oh! And then that wedding, and then a dog, maybe a few kids, a big house in the country--”

“Woahhh, slow down buddy, you haven’t ever properly asked me!”

You took his arm and made your way back to where the music continued to blare and festivities raged on. 

“Y/N, love, may I have this dance?”

You pushed a strand of hair from his face, ruffling it up a little to give it that signature Fred Weasley style. 

“Of course, Freddie. And every dance after that.”

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

[ask-keith-the-basement-dweller]

OTHERS

Karloff Mennis: Their relationship had the biggest glow up, who knew a monster that scared the crap outta you could become your dad - ....w-which he isn't. Keith does not have a dad. He simply called them that by mistake, alright? Don't listen to Byron.

Byron: Speaking of the fuzzball, Keith adores hugging Byron....HE'S SO FLUFFYYYY!!! However, he does not appreciate him teasing Keith for accidentally calling him uncle....he does not know why he called them that, but it won't happen again! ...right? (Also don't let him hug Byron in blob form because he gets stuck to Byron like gum in a child's hair.)

Pat: He loves her very much, that's for sure....but...he's also afraid of being too close with her....he gets this nagging fear that one day his mother will come back and hurt Pat for being so close to him....and Keith isn't exactly making things better when he accidentally called her mom- (Keith also fears of the day when Pat finds out about what he did to her and Matt because there's no way she wouldn't see him as pathetic because he vaguely remembers her saying that to his mom.. and Keith doesn't want Pat to hate him..)

Calico: His new roommate! She's a blast to hang out with! They jump on the bed together, ramble about superheroes together, and are generally very sillyyy. Keith could not have asked for a better roomie!!

Willow & Mr Wood: Like Willow had said a while back, he and Keith have bit of an unspoken friendship where I can just- imagine them doing a secret handshake together and everyone being like "y'all are close enough to have a secret handshake?!?" But yeah, Willow is fun, and they're temporary-powers buddies (...surprisingly Keith did not know Mr. Wood was possessing Willow for the longest time... like he just thought Willow had really powerful mood swings -

K. Aus: BOSS!!! He is so litty and epic, he teaches Keith all the internet slang in all the swaggest way possible lmao. He makes Keith ROTFL so much XD (....he also hopes he would be proud reading this-)

Crow?? (Thea): Keith has now gained a bit of an obsession with crows now ever since one apparently told somebody of his goal of wanting to be a better reader....now he tries his best to befriend the crow that was spying on him so he can write a thank-you letter to....whoever gave him that learning book (he still doesn't know)

Introducing da new Keith!!!

Hope y'all like the new look I gave Keith (and while I couldn't put it on the card I will be playing him a bit differently from now on)

Anywho, questions are officially opened again and expect to see a relationship chart soon!!!

[l-artemisia-del-secolo]

Too many options

Yelena Belova x reader, a lil bit angsty, a lil bit fluffy, mentions of mindcontrol, happy ending as usual, adjusting to ordinary life

You wanted this evening so badly. Dreaming about it for weeks. Finally everything was close to normal. No alien invasions or governmental missions. No nightmares or tears for both of you for almost a month. You were expecting an ordinary date. As much as it can be under your circumstances.

But Yelena wasn't there yet. You were waiting in your meeting spot for almost an hour. It wasn't something new. Out of a sudden she could have a briefing or a mandatory status report. But she always managed to at least send a text. When both of you were particularly lucky she even could call you.

But this time it was different. Not a text, not a call. You yourself tried to contact her a few times. Her number was unavailable.

You had a bad feeling about this. How could you not. You knew too well the nature of her work. The possible outcomes and consequences. The ones that didn't let you sleep at night. Horrific dreams of her possible injury, even death. Yelena tried so hard to help you fight this, while being simultaneously consumed by other fears herself.

Adjusting was hard. Especially in the first few months of your relationship. It was mere weeks when you met after she was freed of mind control.

And in the beginning it was intense. Sure, Avengers did provide the resources for needed support. But it was you who had to deal with mood swings, depressions or anger issues.

Adjusting to the real world was hard, exhausting and painful.

Yelena warned you though in the beginning. She's not used to ordinary life. But with you she'd like to try.

It was getting ridiculous, so you went home.

What you saw there shocked you.You didn't know whether Yelena was there or not so opted to use your own key.

There were piles of clothes on the floor in the hallway. Yelena's clothes. What the hell was going on?

"Lena, are you here?"

No answer. You carefully proceeded to the next room. The same thing. Piles of shirts and jeans, jackets and coats were just lying around. They were not torn or anything. Just there, waiting to be picked up and worn.

"Yelena?" You called again, hoping for at least something.

When you finally reached your bedroom you were almost afraid to get inside.

"Love, are you there?" You asked as you were opening the door.

You sighed with relief. But it lasted only a second.

Your woman was sitting on her knees near the biggest stack of staff. Her hair tangled, eyes red from tears. She was wearing a weird mix of pajama pants and her bra.

As soon as you understood the surrealism of the situation you rushed to her.

"Babe, what's happened?" You clumsily fell on your knees in front of her.

She didn't react, blankly staring at the mirror, which you now were blocking.

"Малыш, что случилось? (Babe, what happened?)" You said in your broken Russian. That was the trick that you often used to calm her down. It was her idea in fact. She taught you this language herself.

Yelena heard you and slowly opened and closed her mouth.

"Лена, кто-то был здесь? Тебя ранили? (Lena, someone was here? Are you hurt?)"

You carefully examined her face, barely touching her. No blood, no visible injury. Same with the neck and shoulders.

It took her almost five minutes to properly feel you on her skin. She was confused, but she was finally there with you.

"What, what are you doing?" She removed your hand from her body. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I mean..."

"I said, I'm fine." Yelena raised her voice, but immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry. I know you have questions. But I did it myself."

"Yourself?" You echoed in disbelief.

"Да. (yes)" She got on her feet. And put on the nearest t-shirt. "I... It's hard to explain."

"Do you want something. Anything?" You couldn't fathom what was going on. But you were sure that Yelena thought of this as "I can handle this on my own" situations. And that wasn't a good sign.

"No." She shrugged. "I'm sorry, I've missed our dinner."

"It's fine. We'll have another one." You gave her a reassuring smile.

"Yeah, if It doesn't happen next time too." She laughed bitterly. "With me you never know, ha? Kinda like a time bomb."

You tried to approach her, but she shook her head.

"It's always like that. Aren't you tired of it? We're having a great day, week, month. But I always find a way to screw it up."

She hated herself during moments like this. Always feeling like she still didn't have control over her own life. Who knew where and when the next outburst could happen. And what could trigger it.

"It's not your fault." You once again tried to reach out to her. This time she stepped away from you.

"Right." She let out a groan. "But it's my fault. But somehow it's because of me, we're standing in this mess instead of enjoying our life together."

She was so angry, so frustrated. This was supposed to be your romantic evening. Personal, intimate. All those things she was always denied.

"We are enjoying ourselves. It's just an episode..."

"Really? That's how you call it?" Yelena was almost hysterical. "A fucking episode. Do you even..."

She clenched her fists, and the vein on her neck could burst at any moment. She started pacing the room, avoiding at any cost looking at you.

"You want to know what happened? I was preparing, you know, choosing the clothes. Started thinking about it. And I..." She suddenly stopped, trying at least to calm her breath. "I... I got overwhelmed. I didn't know what to do. You won't believe it, but suddenly I felt a burden of responsibility... What should I wear, how should I combine clothes and how others would perceive me. How you would. What color, what style...should I copy someone or I'm good enough myself...I...I was always told what to wear and now..."

You didn't care about her protests anymore. You hugged her, immediately feeling her heartbeat, her fire on your skin. She was trembling all this time, devouring herself from inside, killing another Yelena, the one that she didn't control.

"I... I..." She couldn't stop herself. Weeping and shaking, she was finally defeated by reality.

It took her a few minutes to come back to you. You felt it. She kissed your collarbone, asking for attention.

"I'm with you, babe. I can only imagine what it's like. Being overwhelmed by options, by your own responsibility, by the consequences of the actions you yourself took. But it's ok." You were gently stroking her hair. "You hear me? It's ok. We... We are gonna work on that. Simplify everything. Reduce the number of options. And it's not about clothes, it's a...about everything. We'll get there. I promise."

"You're going to throw everything away?" Yelena whispered.

"Maybe. temporary, I guess. We should have thought it through. Not buy mindlessly everything we see."

"Even my vests?' Yelena sounded so timid. She was hiding in your embrace, putting herself together again.

"Of course not. Кем ты меня считаешь? (who do you think I am?). We're keeping the vests at any cost." You could feel Yelena smiled so close to your heart.

You both knew there was so much hard work ahead. Overcoming and fighting, breaking and building. But you were ready for it. Both of you. It was worth it.

[potter-imagines]

Pre-Game Rituals (Fred Weasley)

Request: Hiya!! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Fred. Where Ginny kind of idolises her like at hogwarts she’s always goes up to the reader and asks if she can do her hair for quidditch practice or something...

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.3k

The common room was dead with activity for a Saturday, although that was in large part due to the anticipated match up between Gryffindor and Slytherin tonight. You loved attending Quidditch games, especially seeing as most of your friends were on the Gryffindor team and you got to cheer them on alongside Hermione. Getting to see your boyfriend knocking opponents around and acting as a human bowling ball was an obvious plus as well. Before most games, your boyfriend would coin you into a pre-game ritual, which happened to be a nap. He claimed these snooze sessions next to you gave him his energy to play but, you’d seen him take his O.W.L.s on two hours of sleep and a ‘stay-awake’ creation him and his twin brewed up. Cuddled up in bed sounded like a blissful dream to you on any given occasion but currently, you were in the middle of another event. Not only did you have a pre-game ritual with your boyfriend, you also had one with his little sister who was on the team as well. A few hours to the start of every Gryffindor match, Ginerva Weasley goes prancing around the castle with her hairbrush in hand, searching for you and today was no different.

Your fingers brushed through the ginger locks as you separated the left half of Ginny’s hair into three parts. The silk like strands slipped through your parted fingers as you detangled the frizzed knots. Ginny’s hair was by far the most beautiful you had seen so you hardly turned down her request when she’d ask you to braid her hair. Her deep red hair mixed with auburn tones and long wisps was a unique find outside Hogwarts. Having the Weasley siblings around meant you saw a head of ginger around nearly every corner. In the Muggle world though, you had only passed a few with hair that resembled theirs.

However in those sightings, you never saw a single person whose hair was as fiery and bold as Ginny’s. There were times Ginny despised the color as it made her stick out like a sore thumb and put no mystery in identifying her. Everyone knew on sight that she was a Weasley. To you, she felt the flaming shade complimented Ginny, as well as her personality, to perfection. The youngest Weasley differed immensely from her siblings. Not only in terms of gender, personality as well. It could be argued she was the bravest of the bunch. Already faster on the Quidditch pitch than her older brother Ron, and possibly sneakier than her older twin brothers, Fred and George.

With a small pull, you began to braid from the top of Ginny’s head. You raked in a new strand of hair after every weave. Ginny’s hair was not only long but thick and heavy in weight. It always took a bit more force and harsh knotting to make sure the braids actually stuck, especially seeing as she’d be flying like the wind in a few hours, she needed them tight.

Ginny Weasley sat lazily in a criss-cross style shoulders hunched forward. It was unusual for her not to be talking your ear off in these moments. Ginny always had a story to share, a secret to tell, or an embarrassing memory of her brothers to spill. There was yet to come a day where she ran out of cringe worthy moments of your boyfriend, and her brother, Fred, to leak. In those countless hair sessions, a friendship outside your connection to Ginny through Fred formed. Within a month of hanging out with the youngest Weasley, you sincerely considered her to be a close friend. Between the endless laughter and feistiness of Ginny, a strong friendship grew. You could tell something was off but with Ginny, it was better to give her time to come around and at least open up a bit before you questioned her.

That moment seemed to be approaching as the bottom section of the braid fell from your grasp as Ginny moved her frame abruptly. Her head falling to face the floor caused your hold in her hair to grab her body back a bit. Resting your hand on her shoulder, you leaned her back so she was up snug against the bottom of the couch you sat on.

“You gotta stop fidgeting, Gin. Your braid is gonna be crooked if you keep squirming around!” You smiled softly down at Ginny but as her head turned to face you, you were shocked to find her face was dull, long like a horse. That one-of-a-kind glimmering light that typical lit her eyes was blown out. The residue left a worrisome display instead. She sent you an apologetic look then turned back to face the fire. Her body was as straight as a line and as stiff as Harry’s Great Aunt.

“Sorry… just a bit distracted.” The raspiness in her voice made you wonder if she felt ill. Usually before a match the young girl couldn’t sit still! Her knees would bounce in excitement and you’d have to pin her down to get the braids in but today, she was hardly moving an inch. Pausing your braid in the middle of her scalp, you arch your brows to Ginny.

“What’s on your mind Ginny?”

“A bit nervous about the match- that’s all.” She dismissed your worries with a sigh, clearly still crackling under stress. Although Ginny was your boyfriend's little sister, with time, she became your little sister. You stopped thinking of her as Fred’s sister and one of your best friends. Seeing her flooded with pressure caused concern in you as well but she looked up to you and it was partially your duty to make sure the self doubts you had as a young girl never disrupted Ginny.

Giving the girl a gentle smile, your hands began to rake through her hair again. The first braid was half way done so you resumed your work as you reassured her,

“Slytherin never plays fair but I believe in you guys. You’re gonna pull it off, don’t stress. Just fly clear of Malfoy and Flint and you should be fine.”

“Yeah you’re right…” She trailed off. Furrowing your fixation on her hair, you slowly pried further.

“What else is the matter-” But before you could seek out any further information, your body jerked forward as two arms snaked around your upper body. You shrieked in freight then quickly whipped your head around to see Fred Weasley grinning down at you. Should’ve guessed, you thought to yourself. He was bound to come searching for you sooner or later and drag you to his room for a nap.

“Ah, I was wondering where the two of you snuck off to. Good afternoon, angel.” Fred leaned his head towards you to kiss your cheek. After leaving one, he left another, and another, and another until you had to push him back. You managed to hold onto the already started braid as you held Fred back with your hand on his chest. His hand immediately went to cover yours and squeeze on your grip, then pulled away glancing between his sister sitting in front of you and yourself.

“Hello, lovie. Where is the other, less annoying half of you?” You smiled a sickly sweet grin to Fred as he gave you a warning glare. Reaching up, you used your free hand to pull Fred down by his collar and placed a sugared kiss to his lips. Always ready for your affection Fred returned the kiss softly, his hands cupping around your chin to leaned your head back. An awkward cough ruined the mood as Ginny fidgetted silently. Fred released his grip on your face at once and threw his leg over the couch. Inviting himself into the conversation, he threw either leg over the maroon couch and slipped in besides you. His face was bright and gleeful, the apples of his cheeks a tint red. The orange hair sprouting down to his shoulders was brighter, shinier than normal. You felt your heart race at the sight. Wrapping his arm around your shoulder, Fred glued himself snug to your side.

“Flirting with Alicia or Katie, can’t tell,” He tossed his head back to motion over to his twin talking up your friends in the corner. The three were laughing and talking hushly, all huddled close. You stopped your hands to glance over, then looked down as you felt Ginny moving beneath you.  Fred drummed his finger on the right unbraided, half of her head causing the girl to blindly swing her arm backwards trying to swat at him. You scolded him sternly, threatening him if he messed up the half you were working on. Chuckling at her flailing arms and your attempt at being stern, Fred leaned back into the couch and tossed his arm around your shoulder. “You ready for the big match, Gin?”

Although the only portion visible was the backside of her head, both Fred and yourself watched her shudder and wince at the inquiry. Fred was happier than ever which was a typical mood for him on any given day but especially the day of a match. Most felt the nervous butterflies and sickening feeling before an important game but Fred? You were almost 100% positive Fred had never experienced the feeling of anxiousness. His confidence seemed to flourish under pressure.

Ginny was never to the big stage, though. She didn’t bask in the glory and attention the same way her brothers did. There was that fear of not living up to everyones expectations that crept into her mind as she took the pitch each match. Ginny ducked her head as she scratched the side of her neck.

“Uh huh.” Ginny’s sigh earned a frown on Fred’s lips. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t adorable. The concern read from his features as he sent you a short look. He had an idea based off the alarming gleam in your eyes, but as her brother, he wasn’t willing to back off. His long arms tightened around your shoulder as he tilted his head to Ginny in question.

“You don’t sound very confident at all- what’s the matter with you? It’s the biggest match of the season!” He cheered loudly, causing the young girl to jump in her spot. You tucked the three strands in a weaving pattern trying everything in your power to finish as quickly as you could so Ginny would be free to escape this conversation. Maybe it was a male thing but Fred was just not reading the room correctly. Between Ginny’s uncomfortable shifting and your stern stares, he still just wasn’t understanding her nerves. You snatched the hair tie off the couch cushion and wrapped it around the end of her braid. Tapping his side with your elbow, you looked to Fred sternly.

“I think she realizes that, Fred. Let’s not stress her out even more.” Your tone was pointed and you expected Fred to pick up but clearly, it went straight over his head. This earned a raspy chuckle of disbelief from Fred. Slipping his grip from your waist, Fred leaned forward. Placing his elbows on his knees, his chin rested in the palm of his hands. He had a teasing look as he scoffed,

“Stressed? Since when has a game ever stressed you out, Ginny? You’re the youngest starter on our team! There’s no need to be worried about anything.” Fred’s face was bright with excitement at thought at the upcoming match. His rosy cheeks were squished as he smiled gleefully. A loud groan emanated from Ginny as she threw her head back in frustration, though remained silent. Her once lively orbs reddening by the second as salty tears brimmed. The grin vanished from Fred’s face. He turned to you in confusion, his face resembling that of a wounded puppy.

At times, Fred had moments where he didn’t particularly like his little sister, but he always loved her. It was the brotherly instinct in him; the constant need to keep a watchful eye out for Ginny. He knew she could hold her own, but he couldn’t help that protective nature. Sending him a sharp look, you muttered quietly under your breath,

“Nice work…”

The common room was slowly beginning to scatter out as students made the most of their time before the big match. You caught a glimpse of George walking out the portrait with Lee by his side. You wondered what kind of mischief they were up to, it certainly couldn’t be anything good. Harry and Ron were trudging up the staircase to their room assumingly and Hermione was sitting on the opposite side of the room reading quietly. The atmosphere was relaxed like the calm before a storm. Win or lose, the common room would be buzzing with energy tonight. It was just a matter of happy celebration, or tense aftermath of defeat.

You reached out for the right half of Ginny’s hair and repeated your steps. You parted the bright strands and braided them tightly.

Fred on the other hand was lost to his sister’s emotions and eager for answers. Reaching forward, Fred squeezed Ginny’s shoulder in a comforting manner. His face was scrunched together in concern as he sweetly asked her,

“… what’s the matter, little one? I’m sure your big brother can help.”

You had to physically bite your tongue to keep from ‘aweing’ at him. The one thing you loved more than anything about Fred was how caring and comforting he could be. Your heart was dripping in adoration. There had been a handful of moments you heard Fred refer to Ginny as ‘Little One’. It was typically in mocking sense or playful, however in her fragile moments, it was said with such serenity and gentleness. He was always there to help his little sister and protect her. You couldn’t help but imagine how great of a dad Fred would be in the future. He was the only man you could ever see yourself with and knowing how great of a person he truly is just made you even more certain.

Standing from the couch, Fred shuffled around the two of you so he was sitting in front of Ginny. She sniffled quietly using the sleeve of her sweater to rub her eyes. Your eyes darted between the half finished braid and the pair. Fred was patient in giving Ginny her time and finally, she came around.

“What if I lose it for us? If we don’t win, everyone is gonna hate me! It’ll be my fault and Oliver will probably kick me off the team and I’ll have nothing! And you’ll all be mad at me and mum and dad will be disappointed-” Her frantic ramble was shut down when Fred started to talk over her. It was a crazy thought; one he could not allow to marinate in her mind.

“What’re you talking about? Do you even hear yourself, Ginny?” His voice was booming causing both Ginny and yourself to jump in surprise. Your eyes met for a brief second before he took a deep breath, “First off; Oliver Wood has lost a handful of matches for us and he’s still our captain. I mean, Harry has fallen off his bloody broomstick how many times and he’s still our top Seeker! You’re the best one on that pitch Ginny- well besides George and I, but you know what I mean.” Fred chuckled a bit as a small smile cracked on Ginny’s lips. Her eyes lifted from the ground to glance up at her brother. From your spot on the couch, you couldn’t read her features. You were also too invested in the braid to look away. But Fred bending down to wrap his arms around his sister and practically squish her was answer enough. Ginny squealed at Fred’s bone crushing grip, pleading with him to let go.

You rolled your eyes at the siblings, laughing to yourself as you finished securing the hair tie in the finished braid. Leaning back you smoothed your fingers over the weaved pattern. Her hair was somehow more ginger in this style and you adored it. Peaking your head over Ginny’s shoulder, you pointed out,

“And I don’t think it’s even possible for your parents to be disappointed in you. Fred, George and Ron destroyed the family car and your parents still love them and forgave them.”

“Well I wouldn’t say forgave-” Fred winced as he recalled the event. It had been years and Molly still brought it up when she was angry with the boys. They all knew it was something they’d never fully live down in Molly’s eyes. Even on her deathbed Fred was certain she’d find a way to bring it up. Flicking the material of his sweatshirt, you glared playful at Fred for his interruption. You wrapped Ginny in a hug from behind, your arms captured around her shoulders. She melted in your grip, embracing your comforting hold. Fred folded his legs together and just sort of watched.

There was a sudden jolt of awe, that moment where everything just clicked. It came out of nowhere like a car speeding through a red light. His back pressed into the coffee table for support while he just stared. There was no one more important in this world to Fred Weasley than his family. Seeing his little sister hurt and finding solace in you, it was difficult for Fred to string together the proper words on how it made him feel. The emotions brewing inside him were entirely new- like the feeling of opening presents on Christmas morning and finding you got everything that you asked for. This sheer hypnotic haze that covered Fred went unbeknownst to you as your attention stayed locked on Ginny.

“What I’m trying to say is, it really is just a game. No one's gonna disown you if you make a mistake; Freddie here makes twenty mistakes before breakfast every morning. And even if they are bigger and play dirty, you’re faster and smarter than their entire lineup combined. We all believe in you, Ginny. I’ve seen you do it a million different times and I’ll be right there cheering you on.” Letting go of her, your head lifted to greet the eyes of Fred Weasley. Immediately you took notice of the change in his gaze. Still mesmerizing as ever to be under, yet heavier than before. Instead of throwing a childish jab back, he just held your stare, speechless for once.

Your head tilted in confusion at his odd behavior as Ginny placed her hands on either side of her body to push herself up. This seemed to pull Fred from his trance as he mimicked her actions and stood from the floor. Brushing off her pants and sweater, she gave you both a look of gratitude and said,

“Thank you, Y/n. It really means a lot- thank you too, Freddie.”

“ ‘course, we’ll always be here for you- even if we do lose, you’ll still be my favorite sister.” Fred said with a cheek smirk. Ginny rolled her eyes in slight annoyance. Just when he was sweet, he was sour once again.

“I’m your only sister Fred but thanks. I should probably go get some homework finished so I’ll see you down at the pitch later. Thanks for doing my hair, Y/n. You’re the best- I wish you really were my sister.”

“So you’re telling me, after all this time, I’m not your sister?” You asked teasingly. Ginny laughed happily, clearly pleased with your response. Fred knew how much Ginny looked up to you, how badly she wants to follow in your footsteps, and it makes him thrilled. Not only does he loves how much his sister adores you, but how great of a role model you are to her. He understood how easy it could be to shove her away or dismiss her, and Fred wouldn’t blame you if you did. However you never once turned Ginny away and it played a role in his feelings evolving so intensely. Her cheeks tinted red as she gave you one last wave and skipped up the steps to her dorm. As she disappeared from view, you looked over to Fred only to see his eyes already planted on you. The weight of his stare was suffocating and made you fidget. The second you met his gaze, Fred’s mouth dropped open as he confessed,

“I’m in love with you.” The word vomit rolled effortlessly from his lips. The contagious smile Fred seemed to constantly cause rose to your face. Having been together for some years, Fred was no stranger to broadcasting his feelings for you. Something about this felt more serious than the other times. Sinking into the cushion, you nodded over to the boy in agreeance.

“I’m in love with you, too.” Shaking his head, Fred lunged forward so he was kneeling in front of you. His hands slipped inside your own as he set your intertwined hands in your lap. That playfulness has been swept away as his eyes read full honesty. Fred’s soft features were rough, sharp on the edges as his jaw clenched with tension. Giving your hand a loving squeeze, Fred locked his eyes on yours.

“No, Y/n, I’m like, Alice fell down the rabbit hole, deeply in love with you- I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Just… promise me you’ll stick around, okay?” His voice was filled with worry and fear. You jumped forward to crunch him in a tight embrace. Fred chuckled at your abruptness but exchanged the hug nonetheless. His fingers trailed up and down the bones of your spine drawing circles and shapes as he rubbed your back. You could feel his nose pressing into your hair and soon enough, a sloppy kiss was planted on your head. Grinning like a fool, you glanced up to him with a cheesy smile.

“Hate to break it to you, Fred, but I’m not going anywhere, sorry.” You remarked, reaching up on your tippy toes to kiss his lips. Fred leaned into your lips, his hands wrapping around your waist for support. As he pulled away, you noticed that one of a kind glint reached his eyes. Before you could hypothesize his next move, Fred’s arm swooped around your lower back to scoop you up from your legs. He lifted you up and repositioned so he was carrying you in his arms. You hollered in surprise as Fred just chuckled.

“Good, don’t think I’d let you anyhow, angel. Now c’mon, someone owes me a nap.” He stated, sending you a cheeky wink. Fred began to walk towards the stairwell heading towards the boys dormitory. Clinging to his arm, you glared deathly to Fred.

“If you drop me I am writing to Molly the second I can reach a quill and parchment.” You threatened. Fred walked through the opening to the staircase then started to skip up the steps, still holding your body. You shook with every step, trying your best to mask your giggles with angry looks and sneers. Tightening his face, Fred thought on it for a moment then scowled at the idea.

“Relax, Y/n. Don’t have to take it that far- I just said I’m in love with you and that’s how you’re gonna treat me.” He teased you. His room was on the second to top floor and you could tell you were approaching by the way he slowed down. Fred’s fingers tickled at your side as he made his way towards his door. Instead of setting you down, Fred swung the door open still grasping on to you. He wasted no time slamming the door shut and practically flinging you onto his bed. Your melodic laughter filled every inch of his room making Fred glow red in pleasure. He tugged off his robes and tie, then crawled into his bed next to you. You reached over the side of the mattress for a comfy shirt of his and some pajama pants he kept lying around. He couldn’t tear his gaze, nor did he want to. Winking over to Fred, you threw his comforter over your body and cuddled up next to him.

“If it’s any constellation, I’m like, furthest rock down in the ocean, deeply in love with you.” You admitted softly. Fred’s head snapped down in your direction as he grinned to himself,

“I reckon that’s gotta count for something, love. But could we switch so I’m the little spoon? You know we’ll lose the match if I’m not and then it’ll be your fault, not Ginny’s.”

You let out a dramatic groan as you flipped around to throw your arm over Fred. His face was lit in joy as he snuggled into your hold. You smiled to yourself as you felt his lips brush against your hand and leave a small trail of kisses on each finger. Fred and his rituals, you laughed to yourself as the feeling of sleep entered your body and your eyes fell shut. The soothing sound of Fred humming was a perfect lullaby for any person to find sleep in but it had become your favorite sound. Soon, Fred would have to get ready and go face Slytherin but for now, your arms seemed to be the only place he wanted to be.

[vastayan--vigilante]

Much to his growing bemusement (and uncomfortable sort of relief), Jinx seemed to be more amused by his blunt retorts than anything else. There was no telling when that switch would flip, though. One moment she could be laughing - the next, there could be freshly boiled water getting launched in his face, or a knife plunging for his stomach. That was part of what made her such a fucking problem to deal with.

At the moment, it was obvious she was having fun fucking with him, and not taking anything he said seriously. No doubt she was too pleased with herself to give much of a shit what he thought. He was just a captive audience.

“I have friends.”

Scar gave her a deeply skeptical look. Inanimate objects and figments of imagination were probably the only friendly company this bitch had kept in years, by the state of her social skills.

"Do they have postal address?" He deadpanned. Not that Ekko ever would have permitted the idea of quite literally shipping off their biggest problem to anyone else, of course, even if these alleged friends of hers did exist. But the concept of stuffing her in a freight crate with a couple of air holes and some straw was a soothing replacement fantasy. Imagining how it would feel to break her bones had quickly started to become a dangerous temptation.

A sudden, very urgent knocking at the door immediately made Scar snap to attention. He looked at Jinx; Jinx looked right back at him, with an insolent, all too knowing expression.

There was no question who was on the other side of that door. The only question was how Jinx was going to react now that he finally had backup. Was it safe to call out? What the fuck did he even say?

Fortunately, it appeared that Jinx was in a good enough mood to take care of that for him.

“Who is it?”

To Ekko's credit, he had the door kicked open before Jinx even finished her final syllable. That was the only shred of lenience Scar felt inclined to give him, however. And it was immediately counteracted by the fact that he now had a broken door to add onto his list of things Ekko had to make up for.

The vastayan watched in stony-faced silence as Ekko took in the scene before him, observing the rapid journey from panicked fear (oh, so he knew how badly this could've gone, huh?) to bewildered surprise, relief, and finally awkward chagrin.

Jinx was smiling and swinging her feet, cupping her stolen mug of stolen tea, the picture of infuriating innocence. Nothing in the kitchen was obviously out of place and no one was obviously hurt. By all means, it was a far calmer looking scenario than Ekko had clearly been anticipating to find this morning.

Dark brown eyes darted from Jinx to Scar. Scar simply fixed Ekko with a look that made the younger Firelight swallow hard, his shoulders hunch, and his eye contact hastily avert itself. Message received, clearly. But that wasn't good enough.

"Seventeen minutes," Scar informed him acidly.

She's been in my house for seventeen whole fucking minutes.

How long did it even take anyone to notice she was missing? Way, way too long, obviously. And gods only knew how long she'd actually been loose before she'd decided to break into his house for a "chat".

Ekko's face blanched at his words, clearly realising the same horrible thing.

"What the fuck, Jinx," He rounded on Jinx with a hiss that was equal parts incandescent fury and mortified horror.

"How did you - what did you do?!"

Scar just turned his head to give Jinx a flatly expectant look.

Yeah, you little asshole, what did you do?

She was the center of attention now, just like she apparently wanted, so maybe that would incentivise her to stop dicking around and start talking.

If not, well, he felt significantly more comfortable about his odds of beating the shit out of her now that he had an extra set of hands to whisk Ahri out of the way.

@f1shbonez