#more experience and less pressure for the child? sounds good to me

[httpiastri]

If mercedes ends up getting max, then where would kimi go???

stay in f2 😁 very good 😁 everyone liked that

[im-getting-help]

AND THE THING ABOUT OLIVER AND BOUNDARIES!

Is so obvious to me that his parents were party at fault for his lack of boundaries. Not because they we're malicious and intentional about it, but because they loved him so much they tend to cross his limits.

(Kinda like what Oliver did with Felix, but less obsessive).

From my experience it's something relatively normal about the relationship between parents and their children. The first time we really understand boundaries is when we enforce them to separate ourselves from our parents expectations. It seems to me that Oliver never learned how to do that. He's constantly molding himself to appease and appeal, and when it becomes to much, he flees.

Let's go back to the little things Paula and Jeff share with us in that brief birthday scene.

"He always wanted to be an only child, always beetling off by himself"

"He was so clever, that's why he found it hard to make friends, they were jealous".

"It's been hard not seeing him. But it must be a lot of pressure being the top scholar and being in the rowing team, and the union, and the plays..."

Let's start with the lies.

How long ago Oliver started lying to his parents to make space for himself?

Cause the lies don't necessarily feel like something he used to impress them. It seems to me like the Quicks already thought Oliver was exceptionally smart "he was always so clever" and he's just keeping appearances.

But the amount of things he said he did. The plays, the rowing team, the union, the work of studying to maintain the "top scholar position" like reading, doing work and essays and projects, assisting to classes, lectures and tutorials, it's a lot!.

"It's been hard not seeing him". How many times Paula called just to be ignored or quickly dismissed? with an excuse like "sorry i have an essay due tomorrow" or "im going to practice for the play". And why Oliver wanted to separate himself so much from his family?

"He always wanted to be an only child, always beetling off by himself" why would Oliver wanted to separate himself not only from his parents but his siblings too?

The Quicks said that "We go to to Mykonos every year. Well, not anymore. Not now that the kids are all grown up". That makes me think that Oliver sisters are older than him. Oliver doesn't seem to have a close relationship with them either. Was it because of the age gap? How much older were her sisters? Maybe they had to babysit and that created a second-mother kind of dynamic?

It sounds like he was being smothered by them. And again, i'm not saying it was intentional, but maybe Oliver needed much more space that what the Quicks were able or willing to give. And he didn't know how to ask.

And maybe (only maybe cause i don't really have good foundation for this) Oliver learned that the best way to get space from them was saying he was occupied, specifically studying. So maybe it started at school, him saying that he had to finish homework or read a book or do project, and maybe these were the only times he'll be left alone. Maybe that was the perfect excuse to explain why he didn't have many friends too.

(and i wonder why a kid with no sense of boundaries would have a hard time making friends 👀)

And why Oliver keeps lying?

After moving to Oxford, he could've just draw back and create that space without making an excuse. But he didn't, because he cares, he likes that his family thinks he's intelligent and capable. But he doesn't care for spending time with them.

I don't think he said all those lies to look especially intresting or important, but he did choose to "be occupied" by being a good student. Not in a "i won an award for best performance" but a "I'm too busy to talk, i have tutorial"

And look at the way the Quicks react to Oliver saying he has to go, is very interesting.

Paula just gives up instantly. She offers a compromise, and when rejected she's obviously frustrated but she just lets it go. On the other hand Jeff tries to reason with his son a little "your mother spent all morning doing lunch" but they seem very accustomed to this situation. It's not the first time Oliver escapes a conversation.

So, to me, is obvious that Oliver's parents knowingly or unknowingly contributed to Oliver's lack of healthy boundaries.

He never really draw the line with them, he just made excuses to avoid and elude and ultimately flee when the situation got out of hand. And they never picked up on it, they kept repeating the same scenarios multiple times without having a conversation about it.

I feel like his parents never really confronted him about anything. Maybe because they didn't sense anything was wrong, maybe because, same as the Cattons, they didn't know how to approach the situation or maybe because they know Oliver gets really fcking upset whenever they tried to have a conversation about it, who knows.

So at the end we have a 20yo dude who never learned how to enforce a boundary or why is healthy to have them and has absolutely no idea how to perceive and not cross others limits.

[yanderefairyangel]

Ok. So I’ve heard people complaining about how cheesy Engage’s plot was, e saying that after Three Houses, it was “dissapointing how much they regressed to cheesy stuff like Awakening/Fates”, as if dark story necesarilly equals to a good story. Let me tell you this. This is false. Because EVERY story can sounds dark according to the executions. 

This is a complain a lot has for game saying that since Awakening, stories in FE games are less dark, hence less good. Yeah, cleary, nothing can beat Genealogy with it’s Ring of the Nibelung like plot, plus the infamous Julius’child hunt, as well as some elements from Sacred Stones (*kof,kof, Orson*) when it comes to be dark. But honestly, Awakening, Fates, and Engage’s plot are actually darker than what the games portrays.

SPOILERS

In Awakening, you had Emmeryn, being a 10 year old girl having to deal with her father legacy and having her own people throwing stones at her!! She was a CHILD at this period !! Not to mention what kind of impact this could have on Chrom and Lissa, who were even younger at the time !!!! 

Then you have this timetravel thing. Put yourself into the Shepherd’s shoes. Some of them just recently got wed, and yet there is already an adult version of their yet to be born child that appears, having a whole lot of trauma in them. Seriously ? I mean, some of them are not even born yet and yet they still love them as their child. But at the SAME time, they don’t view them as their child : it’s not the same as having watched them grew up until they become the people they are, it’s more like they had a baby and then a grow up version of arounf 18 years old barges in, sometimes older than them, and tell them that they are the children of their future selves. But whenever they share they experience, the Shepherds were not there when they were born, nor for their first words, first steps, first everything. They did not raise them, they did not watch them grew up, nor were here for them for the sad moments nor the happy one. They don’t and will never be able to share their memories. Whenever the future folks talk about their past, the Shepherds, didn’t they felt like they could not understand it ? like an amnesiac person you talk about memories they don’t and will never have? They were not the one who shared those moments with them, and when they eventually bond together, it’s not the same as bounding with your kids. There they can’t see them as other than their equal, they managed to have a bound as allies, as friend, and that’s not something many parents and children would manage to achieve…. meanwhile when the Shepherds actual kids will be born, they won’t have the same memories : the first words, the first steps, it won’t be the same as what those kids had. Those are going to be new happy memories, new sad memories, new clusmy moments…Imagine the pain of being a parent and learning what happened to your child because you were not there for them, even if it actually is the child of another version of you, hence like someone else’s child but that someone else is an alternate version of your own future... if not making them feel guilty, would it not make the Shepherds scared that their ACTUAL children ends up having to deal with the same things ? would it not makes them fear to also be unable to protect and support their ACTUAL children, the one they raised ? Would they not feel haunted too by those memories that the time traveler shared with them, scared for their ACTUAL children ? Just imagine the pressure. Sure the time travel version are wonderful people, but how much they suffered and they were not here, their other selves where not here for them !!

And the kids. Seriously how can you claim that Awakening’s plot is chessy when half of the cast is filled with young adults more traumatized than teenagers living in Musset’s era ?! 

  Please. They had to face the loss of BOTH of their parents without sometimes knowing their actual fates (I mean seriously, Miriel’s body had disappeared... ), having to fight Risen night and day, day and night,to protect people, when they were barely mature yet!! Seriously ? Lucina was like 6 when Chrom died. When their parents died, some of them were still in diapers (Nah)!! They all had a traumatic childhood!! And then, they have to come back to the past because it was either that, or dying since conviniently enough, all the people in their timeline died due to Grima lauching a giantic attack on Ylisse. And when they come back ? some of them has to face killing actual HUMANS as another traumatic experience (if you recall Harverst scrambble conversation between Owain and Inigo) while Lucina had to hold herself from crying each time she encountered this Chrom!! Must I add the fact, that even though the Shepherds and the Child Units act like actual family, this won’t change the the fact that they are technically STILL ORPHANS ?! They know they ‘re not their real parents, they know their real parents are dead, they will never come back. Yet they can’t help but view as such, to call them “mother”, “father”. Even though, they know that when they talk about the memories they had with their parents, the Shepherds won’t understand much, this are not their memories and will never be. And the sad memories, as well : they saw their parents died, this is something even the Shepherds can’t change, nor erase. Even if they saved them, those memories will never fade away….and evetually some will choose to leave because they don’t want to take their “past” selves’parents as they know they don’t belong in this timeline, even if they marry and have their own kids, they don’t belong here and they have no other place to stay but here. But those babies, they won’t have to same experience, they will never get to watch their loved one dies, nor have to survive all by themselves, but their happy moments won’t be the same, their personlity might even not be the same. Even if they looked alike physically, they would face someone else, someone who has the same name, same physical features, but who in the inside is completely different, whose live will be different, whose spouses, familly, kids will be different than their own… The future version will forever remains with the loss of their parents. Emblem Lucina says that she is still not over mourning Chrom, despite having saved the world with alterante younger Chrom. Owain neither, he literally ask if they can be brought back to live !! Severa too, when in Hidden Truths, she says “ I mean, I've thought about it countless times too. If only I could have my real parents back again... Not the ones we helped save, but the ones I grew up with... “... and so on, and so on... and it gets even darker when you realize that said parents are turn into Risen stuck into a DLC bonus map, the only occasions they have to met again the children they never saw grew up because they died before theu could get this chance !!! Without mentionning, that the only reward that the Time Travek Trio gets is that Anankos ends their suffering, giving them proper graves and a chances to make properly their mourn !! And now you know why in Fates, they refer to Cordelia, Lissa, and Olivia as dead. They are talking about their actual mother from their bad timeline, not our playable units... YES BECAUSE ALTHOUGH THEY SAVED OTHER VERSIONS OF THE PEOPLE THEY FAILED IN THE FUTURE THEY WILL STILL BEAR THE GUILT OF HAVING BEING UNABLE TO SAVED THEIR ACTUAL WORLD!!! ( and it gets awkard considering that most of the camarades that died in their timeline, they will get to met them again but as adult and them as children who they KNOW are not the comarades they fought with in the future and will never be, they are DIFFERENT PEOPLE!!)

Not to mentions they never got to experience anything pleasant... Seriously ! Severa CRIES because she is SO HAPPY cause she never got to experience anything HAPPY IN HER LIFE !! AND MANY OF THE OTHERS FUTURE FOLKS HAVE THE EXACT SAME REACTIONS AS HER!!!!!!!!

Must I also add that unlike the Chrom from Luci’s timeline, our Chrom didn’t get to enjoy his family ? HE HAD TO LEAVE HIS BARELY BORN DAUGHTER TO FIGHT A VALMIAN LOBSTER!!! He won’t be here for her first words, her first time walking, her first time EVERY THING!! GETS DARKER WHEN HE MARRIES A SHEPHERD GIRL BECAUSE THE CHILD DOES NOT EVEN HAVE HER MOTHER NEAR HER!!! In her support with Lucina, her mother can’t help but think of the baby she left in the castle !!! And it’s worse when it’s F! Robin because 1) she was fated to kill Chrom hence Lucina has to choose between her father or her mother ouch !2) Lucina was ready to deprieve the younger alternate self of her from her mother, perpetuating on her alternate self the own trauma she had!!! It’s just as dark when Lucina marries Robin because :1) She has to choose between her father or her lover 2) she is ready to inflict the same being of losing a parent on her own future daughter !! And that’s the same if Robin marries a 1st gen because Lucina is ready to make her friends goes throught the same pain of losing their father again and if Robin marries a 2nd gen because Lucina is ready to deprieve her friends of the person they love and who offers them conforts after having lived a literal hell as well as inflincting th pain of losing a parents on their future child !!!! i’ll add this is even worse if Robin marries Lucina’s sibllings !! Or if Morgan marries Lucina because she is ready to kill the mother of her lover !!! HOW IS THAT NOT DARK ?!!!

And Robin, oh god. Seriously ? they have been saved by their mother from turning into an evil being !! But do you imagine what kind of life it is as a child ? Having to hide from people ready to use you to destroy the world ?! And while we don’t know much about Robin’s life in the original timeline, if they really choose to be Grima over the friends, we can imagine that they must have suffered a whole lot of stuff to make them able to choose THIS!! Gets even darker if Robin marries Chrom cause she sacrifices her husband and her daughter for Grima!!!! AWFUL!! Just awfull!! 

And if you think Robin as it easy because they are amnesiac ( I am talking about our Avatar here, not the Original Robin who becomes Grima) then YOU HAVE IT WRONG!! In their conversations with Chrom, both mentions that they are indeed bothers and scared that they might forget the Shepherd and who they are again. this topic is more developped in the Hot Spring Scramble conversations between Owain and Robin when they are married (you know ? the one that gives me diabetes) where you clearly understands how scared she is to forget about her life AGAIN!! And while Robin never mentions trying to get her memories back unlike Morgan considering the identity crisis that they have at the idea of forgetting again who they are, I think I understand why. Imagine that even though you forget everything, you manage to forge yourself an identity which you considers to be yours, YOUR favorite colour, YOUR favorite meal, most deslike food etc. But you wonder : “If I get my memories back ? Then would I still be the same ? Would I still love and hate the same thing ? The me I believe is myself ? What if it was not truth ? What if it was not my true self ? What if what I like now that makes me are actually not real ? would I still be able to be myself ?” and so many other existential question and as someone who read Anouilh’s Le Voyageur sans bagages where the amnesiac main character rejects his previous identity because he could not believe he was the person his family painted him to be, I can say it is DARK!! 

This only adds to their live as a tactican beings dark. I mean how many supports do you need to not get that their lives is not easy ?! In the support with Virion, they explain how much pressure they feel to have to think of everyone! Although Severa scolds him for not being realist and this tell something of her for having to accept that she had to let people die to survive, Robin not wanting to let anyone dies makes sense!! He has to plan everything, he will hence be to blame for every soldier that die!! Imagine, being responsible for someone’s survival, having to deal with the guilt of letting them die, when you could have done something if you had done things better, differently, and so on and on!! They had to deal with that and also the amount of responsability they are tasked with !! The convos int the barracks even seems to implies that Robin can stays VERY LATE TO WORK!!! There is more than 3 supports that emphazied this, leading them to get sick because of their works, which leads them to neglect their health !! Sometimes this lead to them not being able to fufill their engagement in their supports and yet even when they tries to sneak out from work, it is still to find a way to help others!!! WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THIS ?! And this is because being the tactican of the army, the person everyone relies on and, according to Noire, the parental figure to THE WHOLE ARMY requires you to do all of that!! And when they are married, it’s even worse. I mean, when she marries Chrom, Chrom at least get to spend times with his wife. But for the others... I mean, Tharja summer scramble in both mentions on how she is envious of others spendings times with Robin but she never gets to because Robin is too busy. When he is married to Severa in the Hot Spring Scramble, she CRIES BECAUSE SHE IS SO HAPPY she finally gets to spend time with her husband and goes into a long soliloquy about all the things that Robin is doing for the army... EVEN ROBIN POINTS OUT HOW RANDOMS THE THINGS HE PLANED WHERE YET IT MADE HER HAPPY TO THE POINT SHE BURST INTO TEARS!! When she marries Owain, still in Spring Scrambble, when she promises that she will tries to find some time for them to spend it together, OWAIN BURST IN JOYS!! He is being like “REALLY ?! FOR REAL ?” HE IS OVERJOYED FOR SOMETHING THAT ROBIN HERSELF CONSIDER TO BE SILLY !!!!! Is this not proof enough that being Robin is hard ?!

And what is worse is that Robin being amnesiac they. have. no. home. to. RETURN!!! I mean when I recall Robin’s conversation with any people trying to hire them, they have a point. While it’s no wonder that in heroes Robin talks about how Chrom gives them a “home” and a “new family” within the Shepherds considering there is HIGHT chances their mother died and they clearly can’t return to Valider... having a father just so he could use you as a vessel !! Isn’t that dark !! However I shoul clarify that Chrom offered them a “home” as LONG AS IT WAS WAR because once peace is here ... what are they gonna do? Once the war is over, what is Robin gonna do ? They only knew the live of tactician, sleeping in a tent, battling, etc. Even if they want to stay by Chrom’s side let’s face it. Their friendship won’t give Robin a new job nor  a new home! Unless Robin marries Chrom, or Lissa, or Frederick or Emmeryn, they won’t live in the castle with them!! Unless Robin marries a 1st gen, they won’t have a home nor a family!! Unless Robin marries a 2nd gen, they won’t travel with their spouses to makes themselves a new home !!  Basically, single Robin is like the 2nd gen (which probably explains why I never saw Robin as a “1st gen” or would not label them as such, more a character like Tiki or the spotpass character kind) because they have no family nor a home to return excepts the 2nd gen had actual plans unlike Robin who was too absorbed by their life as a tactitcian to think about it..what is the future waiting for them exactly ? settling down in Ylisstol ? travelling to another country ? WHICH ONE ?! Is there one that allows them to have a 100% happy ending withou having to marry any units JUST so they can have a family and a new home ?! AND YOU SAYS AWAKENING IS NOT DARK ?!!

And you think Fates is not dark ? HA HA HA !! you innocents souls...

Despite it’s poor executions, let’s say the things straight. We have an innocent child who witnessed the death of their step-father being brutally murdered and got kidnapped and brainswash by their murderer, having a “happy childhood” only thanks to the already traumatized children of this man and the few domestics with some hearts, being forced to live like Rapunzel, having only ONE friends from the outside they made everything so they could forget him. Then they feel conflicted because they don’t know what to do, because they found out their “real family” yet still loves the people whom they grew up with despite them being the child of their kidnapper !!! Imagine how the in real life kidnapped kids having being raised by their kidnappers an finally being brought back to their “real” family whom they forgot everything about must feel !!! Adding to that the fact that they have to deal with the loss of the mother they finally found back !!! and the fact that destiny decides how they did not feel confused and conflicted enough and forces them to chooses between the people who preserved their innocence from a man that ruined their life and intended to hurt hem and the people who always love them as family and kept on waiting that one day they would be reunited (seriously ? why no one puts themselves in the shoes of the hoshidans family... just put all the testimony of all the families that finally found back a long lost family member to the Hoshidan family, and you have it! dark) and both your decisions are painfull.

In Birthright, Corrin has to fight the land they grew up in. The people they grew up with !!! In Conquest, they have to deal with the Garon’s way which goes completely against their pacifist ideals, trying hard to spare as many lifes as they can, yet the reality keep strinking them in the face while they try to remain as innocent as they were at first, dealing with blood on their hands !!!! Corrin makes literal nightmare in their support with Azura !!! And Revelations... oh god. Seriously ?! Yes everyone gets along but Corrin still has to face both their parents and kill their father and will never knew it because of 3 worthless idiots too busy brewing tea for their lords rather than accomplishing their actual missions !!! And the kids... SERIOUSLY !! They had to put their babies with stranger into a alternate dimensions, missed many things, many important things in their kids life!! Do you imagine how awful it must be that your kids is already your age after a few weeks, sometimes younger ?! And you missed so many things ?! and you won”t get a second chance unlike Awakening, because it’s not an alternate future version, it’s YOUR ACTUAL CHILD WHOM YOU CONCEIVED WITH YOUR SPOUSES!!! And whoever marries Azura will have to deal with mourning her according to some routes, same things for Kaze, etc. 

And I am not talking about both Awakening and Fates’s character having their own trauma, own issues....

And I’ll add this... the S support. Yes, the freaking S support !!!

Asides from the fact that freaking Nowi, Nah, and Tiki will outlive their husbands which makes their ending incredibly sad, you have the fact that most of the ship are actually pretty tragic. I know, I know, when you look at it the first thing you see are the over the top ridiculous plot holes, but as plot holy as they are the one with Robin are just;... UGHH 

I mean Robin x 1st generation is basically you marrying someone who, in an alternate timeline, gets murdered by you !!! Male Robin may be a good father IN THE GAME TIMELINE but the Robin from Luci’s timeline deserves an award in the top 10 of worst parents ever!!!! This man/woman sacrificed their spouses and made their children’s life a literal HELL!!! Just put yourself in the Shepherds’s shoes for a second : how would you react to discover that in an alternate future, your wife/husband murdered you and screw up your kids’entire life as well as killing millions of innocents life ?!! AS IF FINDING OUT THAT YOUR ACTUAL SPOUSE IS A SERIAL KILLER WAS NOT DARK ENOUGH BUT THIS IS ALMOST SO DARK THAT IT BECOMES RIDICULOUS !!!!

And Robin x 2nd gen is just as dark when you realize that they are basically marrying someone who is the alternate good version of their own parent’s murderer!!! Yes, they fell in love with the alternate version of the person who brutally murdered their parents and destroyed their home and ruined their entire life !!! And who in at least ONE timeline killed them too !!! And also the alternate version of someone they will brutally murder at the end of the game !!!

The Robinsexual not being much better since most of them are alternate version of people brutally murdered by Robin and Co in the playable timeline or that they let die in at least 3 timelines !!! How is that not dark ?!!

Fates is not much better either!! Come on!!! There is a lot of pairings that are formed with at least one units having death flags flying on their freaking head !!!! and the fact that Corrin can marry the children of their kidnapper !! Come on !! how is that not dark ?!

And now, WHAT IN ENGAGE IS NOT DARK ENOUGH TO SUIT YOUR TASTES ?!

This story literaly is the most awful. Sure Alear is amnesiac at the begining of the game. Alear has literaly been raised with the mentality that if they did not fit to Sombron’s expectations, they’be deemed a “defect”!! Like, it’s already hard to be the child of someone who is sooo obsessed by someone else they deemed as the most important person to the point they don’t see you, and don’t even think of you as someone being able to replace the void created by the person you lost, as if this was not hard and awful enough, add the fear and pressure of being killed!!! Alear is TERRIFIED by the Corrupted. THEY. KILLED. ALL. THEIR. SIBLINGS. All of them!! And Alear witnessed that !!! And still feared for Veyle who also had to endure THIS!!! Zephia literally brainwash her into being another person who does awful things !! Imagine someone telling you that your true self is worthless and therefore decides to create a new personality for you ?!! SHE HAD TO LIVE 1000 YEARS OF THAT !!! And Alear was killed by their own father!! when they finally found someone loving in the person of Lumera, a life they WANTED to have, NOT FORCED TO LIVE, but WANTED !! THEY WANTED TO BE A GOOD DRAGON AND PAYED IT WITH THEIR LIFE !! And when they and Lumera finally reunitated with her waiting for YEARS that her “child” and her would finally get to be together ? WHAT happens ? Not only is her child amnesiac but she dies !!! THEY NEVER GOT TO BE TOGETHER!! TO LIVE AS MOTHER AND CHILD!! And VEYLE WAS ALONE FOR 1000 YEARS HOPING TO FINALLY REUNITES WITH HER SIBLINGS AND HAD TO ENDURE ZEPHIA CALLING HER A DEFECT AND WITH THE FEAR OF BEING KILLED TOO!!!  And it’s actually a good thing that Alear forgot about all of this because I don’t see how any average person could bear to have such memories of their siblings being killed by their own father!! No wonder that even amnesiac they are still scared by the Corrupted!!! This adds a new layer to their supports with Diamants because imagine if that one had took place after Alear regains their memories!!! AWFUL !! And I won’t add the traumatic backstory of Marnie who was abandonned by her mother who thought she was useless despite helping her with her brother and finding a mother in Zephia because “finally! someone praised me !! someone noticed my struggles !!” nor Griss explaining why he became addicted to pain !!! Seriously how IS THIS NOT DARK?! 

When you think about it all those games had pretty dark story!!! It’s like Kaori yuki and Jun Mochizuki decided to allies themselves and write a story and GOD!! you know those women are talented at writing story worth making a die hard hearltless criminal who slaughtered many people cry like a big cry-baby a flow, a river of tears in a foetus position !!!

Clearly, Engage’story is actually has dark as Three Houses, maybe even more so. The only reasons why you feel it’s cheesy is the execution.

So does a dark story = a good story ? NOPE.

Does a well executed story = a good story regardles of if it’s dark or not... YES OBVIOUSLY!!

[black-arcana]

BATTLE BEAST's NOORA LOUHIMO Says Health Scare 'Was A Good Wake-Up Call': 'I Really Appreciate Life More Now'

In a new interview with Argentina's Global Legends, BATTLE BEAST's Noora Louhimo opened up about her recent health scare. The 35-year-old Finnish singer revealed in November that she had been diagnosed with a ruptured left carotid artery, causing the postponement the band's tour.

"Well, definitely it scared me a lot, and other people as well," she told Global Legends about the diagnosis and how it has affected her life (as transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET). "And like the doctor said, this can happen to anyone. So if you are coughing too hard… I heard this example that there was a person who was coughing too much and both of the veins got ruptured. This can happen to anyone, but because I really want to — how do you say? — avoid having this again, I have definitely started doing more warm-up before any singing and warming down and taking care of my overall health even more than before. So, actually, the accident was also kind of — it was a good wake-up call for me, because even though I was already on a good path with the lifestyle and how to eat and how to do the sports and stuff like that. But still I noticed that there were some things that I need to concentrate more into and kind of put more effort. So this was actually a really good kind of wake-up call. And also I really — how do you say? — I really appreciate life more now. I'm thankful for each and every day and every moment that I get to live, I get to love, I get to see. I get to see people. I get to be with my loved ones and with my animals here at home. And now I get to tour in the places that I've always dreamed of. And it's not something that you should take [for] granted."

When Louhimo first revealed her diagnosis five months ago, she wrote on her social media: "I went to be examined because of a weird pain in the left side of my neck, throat, ear and chin. At ultrasound examination the doctor found the rupture that had already started healing, and he saved my life. I was hospitalized for more exams and finally got confirmation of the situation. I was ordered to have a break on everything that might stress or increase my blood pressure for the next month. Otherwise, I could have a stroke. As you know how passionate I am as a singer and performer, the blood pressure getting high is a guarantee. So, I did not want to take the risk to die with my boots on, not quite yet".

Louhimo joined BATTLE BEAST in 2012 with no previous experience as a metal vocalist but quickly acclimated herself as the replacement for Nitte Valo (a.k.a. Nitte Vänskä).

Less than two years ago, Noora, who in 2021 released her debut solo album, "Eternal Wheel Of Time And Space", under the NOORA LOUHIMO EXPERIENCE banner, admitted publicly that she had been struggling with eating disorders and her weight since she was "a little child" and said that she was "still trying to find a balance." She added that she had "been depressed and anxious sometimes 'without a reason'."

In an interview with Metal Divas, Noora explained how she ended up fronting BATTLE BEAST: "[In] September [2012], I got a call from [then-BATTLE BEAST guitarist] Anton [Kabanen] that they want me to join BATTLE BEAST. I had heard their music and loved the sound and the vocals, so the next day I called Anton and said I'm in.

"Anton found me by accident on YouTube when he was searching for the new vocalist," she continued. "He had been looking for a vocalist — male or female; [it did not] matter. The only thing that mattered was can that [he or she could] sing his songs without compromises.

"I've been singing since I was four years old," Noora added. "While being a huge fan of heavy metal of '80s and a teenager, I had some classical singing lessons when I was 16 years old. Then at the age of 19, I started studying music in pop/jazz line. At the same time, I started doing some jam sessions at bars. There I found my first band (ADMIRAL OCTOPUS) in the blues bar. We used to play rock and blues music from '60s-'70s and Janis Joplin was the reason I got the rasp in my voice. After ADMIRAL OCTOPUS, in 2011, I took part in a singing competition ('Wanna Be A Rock 'N' Roll Star') at Henry's Pub of Tampere and won it with Janis Joplin's 'Piece Of My Heart'. That's how my single 'Relax' was born."

Photo credit: Terhi Ylimainen

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

22. Fairy Tale by Stephen King--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I've been meaning to pick up FAIRY TALE since the day it came out because it looked so interesting and so different from a lot of King's stories--although I know that he tends to write in different genres (even if they're all put in the horror section in bookstores.) I've had many talks about King with my friends and you know, his writing in the past may have been very polarizing, but this book was a whole other level of Stephen King (in the best way possible). This was an epic fantasy novel with some incredible imagery, world building, and slower cadence writing that King is notorious for in his storytelling. Also, the descriptions of the people the MC encounters in this twisted world were incredibly vivid and memorable--at times even shiver-inducing. Also, much like a couple of other books by him, I cried. Listen, you can't help but get invested in some of the less permanent characters because King writes them in such a way that you can't help but feel an emotional connection with them. One of the things I love about King's writing and why I always find myself falling so readily into his tomes is that he knows how to really pace a story. He creates and weaves worlds together the way only an expert can and then slowly lets the story bloom until the very last page. This felt like such a special story because of that. Unlike other fantasy books, our MC isn't the typical hero. He was more of a grey-area hero when he needed to act in dangerous situations--or at least, he made it very clear to the reader that he wasn't the hero everyone thought he was. He has his dark moments (especially when they're needed) and his imperfections make him more relatable as a lead. And while there are definitely some older moments that challenge the young MC (he was 18, I believe, or close to it), we definitely get to see where his age shines through (for example, who he falls for and how he handles that, and how he deals with the pressures of living up to a promise that feels nearly impossible to live up to.) I loved that vulnerability because it reminded me, as the reader, that this is still a child caught up in an adult situation (violence and responsibility-wise). The side characters were great, especially the puppers--Radar was the cutest little pup and I never expected to feel so invested in her fictional well-being. If you are going into this expecting a typical King horror novel--this isn't it. Instead, King has crafted a standalone fantasy that will leave you with an odd sense of nostalgia and bittersweet happiness both because it's over, AND because you were able to experience it. While it had some cool moments and some King awkwardness (because really, is it a King book without an awkward moment near the end?--but nothing as creepy as IT, promise), FAIRY TALE was not just a story of an older teenage boy setting out to save his best friend and potentially an unknown world, it's a story about growing up, making the expectations placed on you adapt to who you are as a person, and the complexities of relationships that we build on our journey to growing up. It is about goodbyes and hellos; about hope and grief and the understanding that staying static in life is no way to live. FAIRY TALE was about a boy who experienced trauma at a young age, met someone he showed an unimaginable level of compassion for, and as a result, had a life-changing opportunity thrown at him. I loved this book very much, if you can't tell.

___

23. Even Though I Knew the End by C.L. Polk--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

One of my friends read this one earlier this year and I decided to give it a shot because it sounded really good. I'm starting to love the shorter books because of how concise the stories are and how to the point the plots can be because you have less time to showcase the story for the reader. EVEN THOUGH I KNEW THE END was a very enjoyable read. I loved the main character's sass and how she fought for the love she shared with the woman she was destined to live the rest of her life with. I thought their relationship was a beautiful contrast to the idea that life is short so what is the point? Meaning, I love that despite the MC knowing that her life was going to be quite short, she still decided to find her happiness--even if it might be hard-won at the end of the day. I really enjoyed this and I thought the emotions were palpable. I thought the concept was quite unique, especially the MC's partner in crime as she strives to solve the murder mysteries popping up in the city. I'd definitely recommend this--especially if you want more sapphic fantasy that dabbles a little with horror. The ending alone is worth it and offers a strange sense of hope that love can possibly overcome anything, even death and grief. (Not a spoiler)

___

24. Water Bound by Christine Feehan--⭐️⭐️⭐️.5

WATER BOUND had a few things going for it that I enjoyed, but a couple of not so great things on my end that just happened to be bad timing for this reading experience. I found myself falling into a bit of a reading slump right around the time I started reading this, so every time I started the audiobook, I immediately wanted to do something else...or I wanted to write. But despite all of these things and the books I DNF'ed right before starting WATER BOUND, I finished it and enjoyed it for what it was. I really liked the suspense aspect of this book, especially after the twist that helped explain it all. It was interesting and I always forget how enticing Feehan's writing can be when it comes to that element of her storytelling. I also liked the mystery surrounding the second narrator, especially when I realized that I had met him before in a much later book series by Feehan. Even though this is the first in this series, it's still very clear that I need to read more books before it. On one hand, that was a little frustrating because it felt like I was missing key connections and easter eggs that sometimes makes authors like this one so fun to read. But on the other hand, these constant allusions and references made me want to read the other books BECAUSE I JUST WANT TO KNOW IT ALL. I LOVED that the female MC is on the autistic spectrum because I love seeing this representation in romance novels. I always find that the way the story looks through their perspective is both fascinating and beautiful. The male MC however was a little meh, to be completely honest. Feehan's male characters are always so intense from the get-go that it takes a while to get used to them. I did love, however, how he is with the female MC and the connection they share. The magic of their abilities was more pronounced in this book and their interactions surrounding their magic was made more beautiful by that relationship of respect that they cultivated. Will I read the second book in this series? Probably. Even if they're not perfect reads, I do enjoy Feehan's writing and the potential each book offers.

___

25. Princess in Pink by Meg Cabot--⭐️⭐️⭐️

The more I read this series, the more I realize how awful Mia's best friend is. I think that's one of the main things I remember about this book (since I'm writing this review a month later and I barely remember what it was about.) I do remember being a little frustrated, not just with Mia and Michael, but also with the idea that so many people call her annoying and whiny and completely forgetting that she is...fifteen. She is literally a child who can't help but think that she wants this magical night at prom with her older boyfriend before he heads off to college. (Let's not comment on the creepy age gap, again, because Michael actually comments on how he knew the age gap would present issues down the line.) I totally forgot to mention this because these books are kind of forgettable: There was a completely horrible conversation about Autism in this book. It both really dated this series and gave me such a sour taste of the ignorance surrounding Autism. It shows how much more has come to light in the years since this series came out. I'm going to continue reading this series, but I also have to occasionally remind myself that Mia is fifteen, going through a tumultuous high school experience, and is constantly trying to navigate the tricky world of relationships (both with her older boyfriend and her bitch of a best friend.)

___

26. American Predator by Maureen Callahan--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I heard about this book on the clock app after a true crime lover recommended it and said it gave her nightmares. I've been into true crime since I was a teenager and while I don't listen to a lot of the podcasts anymore, I know a bit about serial killers and crimes that have haunted North America for decades. This is all to say that I recognized this case before the details were revealed. I've always been fascinated to see what makes these people tic because they're so far removed from the way I view the world. I wouldn't call this a book that would give me nightmares, but that's mainly because I've learned about other stories that were a lot more terrifying. The expectation of being scared is what lowered my rating, but the rest of this book was intriguing--especially when one thinks about all of the unanswered questions we are left with in the end. Callahan presents a great true crime read and I think it is one of those where the reality of how truly lucky someone has to be to catch one of these kinds of serial killers. They're so good at hiding their crimes and any evidence that might be left behind. I couldn't help but think about all of the unsolved murders and the missing people who have never been found. I think that's the scariest part of a story like this one--the idea that some serial killers have never been caught because they are always adamant on keeping their crime scenes without any clues. And let me be clear: this guy only got caught because of mistakes. Think of those who don't make any mistakes in their careers as serial killers. I'd recommend this to true crime fans simply because of that last sentence I've just written. At the end of the day, it makes you wonder: how much do you really know the person standing beside you?

___

27. Suburban Hell by Maureen Kilmer--⭐️⭐️⭐️

I went into SUBURBAN HELL knowing that two of my friends had recently read it and hadn't enjoyed it. I was skeptical, but I'll admit that I actually enjoyed the experience. It wasn't the best horror book I've ever read, but I found it entertaining. I think it might have hit better if I was a mom stuck at home with a world that repeats itself every day. I love a good haunting and this delivered some fun moments that I think would translate well to a campy horror movie. The creeping sense of dread mixed really well with the monotonous life of a suburban family, and the main character's growing unease was very well shown--even as her life continued on as normal while her friend was rotting away in her demonic filth. I do think there was more focus on the minutiae of a stay at home mom. While I think that was the point and the horror of it all is the things moms sometimes need to do to keep the peace going, or what some moms need to do to fit in with the other moms, it made for an occasionally draggy read. One of my friends mentioned that this was a boring read and I'm torn because on one hand, I agree, and on the other, I am on the fence because the boring aspects of it I think were intentional. I think this book definitely had potential for MORE. I think the horror and terror aspects were a little underused, especially the really cool concept. This was a fun read, but it did this weird thing where it moved both too quickly and too slowly: the possession was a little quick, but the surrounding storyline was too slow. Anyway, this wasn't a favourite but I didn't hate it. I'm curious to see what else Kilmer writes!

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

___

I went through a weird time the last few months, which including a reading and blogging slump. Will hopefully return to posting my reviews and posts!

___

Happy reading!

[babyspacebatclone]

Consumer Review for Flare Calmer® Pro ear inserts.

OMG these actually do what they promise!!!

🤩😍🤩

The ear inserts are hollow, meaning you still hear all the noise around you, which I admit is a tiny problem at the moment because my hearing sensitivity is currently high (being the end of the week, most of this was typed up at work during nap time) and so I am hearing the volume amplified.

But the stated purpose? Even out the highest pitch frequencies, which contribute most towards me going into an Autistic Meltdown?

After wearing them for a few weeks, I can finally definitively say yes, the experience supports the science.

At first, I wasn’t sure. The kind of pitches I respond worst to aren’t exactly common, or at the very least I’m not always going to encounter them.

Well, that’s what I was telling myself.

I have three different factors to noise that contribute to triggering my sensitivity/anxiety:

Noise Volume

Sound Frequency - higher is more painful

Oscillation in Frequencies - think how violins are played.

If all three max out, the result is a 12 out of 10 in my brain for agony and stress accumulation.

I should also mention I, naturally, work at a daycare center.

With crying babies and tantruming preschoolers.

Smart, huh? 🤪

Anyway…

I can tell when I’m specifically hit by a noise not just by the pain, but my response: first I close my eyes, a repressed wince; then the unrepressed winces; then slamming my hands over my ears, at which point I’m going to Meltdown it’s just a question of how quickly I can leave to make it a small one.

Yesterday, one specific child just had her own metldown after waking up from nap.

“Meltdown” in that she was in a spiral of “I’m mad so I’m crying, I’m crying because I’m mad,” it was 80% a tantrum where she was resisting all attempts at us calming her down explicitly because we weren’t going to “listen” to her (that is, let her play with toys she’d already refused while we were trying to get ready for snack, the same routine we do every day).

Anyway, it was 20 minutes of her crying and pouting at us.

And I know this girl, and how bad her tantrums hurt my ears.

It was mostly 8 out of 10, peaking at 9 out of 10, and that was all volume.

No wincing from me. None of that warble along the high frequencies that kills me.

And the day before this, I was definitely getting those while eating out between the “communicate with the waiter” and “put in my Flare Earshades and zone out.”

I’m not going to say they will work for everyone, and I think that’s why they have a pretty average review rating:

For some people, they do nothing, because the frequencies affected by the inserts aren’t ones that bother them.

And for other people - fortunately myself included! - they only protect from one specific thing.

But that very specific thing is a huge Meltdown and anxiety trigger!!!

(Comfort wise: I always feel the Pros in my ears, which have a solid aluminum core inside very well shaped silicon. But it’s literally just “feel” - there’s no pressure like from most noise-managing plugs. My set fit me perfectly, but there are limited sizes so that’s going to be far from universal. I can wear them all the time, but I also have some mild relief touch-wise to take them out.)

Oh, last point.

I’ve been using the Flare Earshade Pros less, but so far they’ve been very good. Definitely less ear pressure than my otherwise favorite foam earplugs, which has become a big problem for me. Decent noise blocking, maybe a bit less than my foam earplugs but I jam those in deep (which is probably why they hurt so much, lol). The comfort to noise reduction ratio is definitely in the Earshades favor.

And they’re so small, because they’re pre-shaped memory foam. I carry earplugs at all times in an Altoids Mini tin with some migraine meds, and instead of playing Tetris with everything I can just drop them in and be happy.

Definitely a recommendation, if you’re cruising the Flare Audio site already!!!

[ask-fell-drones]

Memories

Depictions of death and abuse

I remember being called inside a room by a man. I was unconfortable, but obeying was my duty. It was either that or dying, and I can't die, not when I can still live with him.

Inside the room, the man was sitting on the bed, giving an eerie smile. He looked at me, seeing every part of my body, licking his lips. I knew what he wanted, it was not uncommon.

"Come here child" My stomach hurt and filled with disgust, but I had to hold it, I had to obey. I walked close to him and slowly took my clothes out.

The mansion was pretty calm, no sound could be heard aside from the humans talking to eachother. Maids and Butlers were serving people on the room. I could see that most were doing their jobs, but I haven't seen L, O, Y, and S since yesterday.

They were probably slacking off again, like they always do. In the distance I see a little girl, sadly walking by the other humans. The girl sees me and runs towards my direction.

"Hey J" The girl waved to me. Her expression getting brighter, with a smile forming on her mouth.

"Hello Miss Tessa, what is your order?" I say with a stern tone.

"I don't have any orders now. I just want to talk" She said, leaning on the balcony, on our side.

"I'm afriad I can't do that Miss. I have a job to do right now" I take a plate with food and drinks.

"Aw, c'mon J. There are so many alredy doing their tasks. One less isn't going to break everything" She said with sad eyes, placing her hands together on the side of her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Miss, but I can't, there are alredy four slacking off. On that note, I'm sorry to ask this to you, but could you tell someone to catch the four slacking drones?"

"You don't need the formality with me J, you know that, but who are the slaking?"

"L, O, Y and S. They are probably in the basement" She said, as she made her way to serve those rich bastards.

I start walking. J did ask me to order a drone to check them, but I don't want to, so I'm gonna see it myself. On the way there, I walk by my parents room. It seems that they are having another argument, so better walk as fast as I can.

I hear the sound of door opening. My heart feels the grip of fear, my blood turning cold, making me shiver.

"Tessa! Come here, right now" My ftaher screams are loud and full of force. I know he's not asking, and I know what's going to happen. I see a little butler drone, helping a maid drone with glasses walking down the hall.

"N, V! Could you guys check the basement and library for 4 drone?" I scream, before my arm is grabbed by my father. I can smell the alcohol he has been drinking, vodka.

James throws his daughter inside the room and locks the door behind him. I look at V with a worried face. This wasn't the first time this happened, but it never ended well. We could only hope for the best.

"I'll check the library. You go check the basement" V said.

"Are you sure. Doesn't it hurt to-"

"Shut up. I can go to the library" V said as she pushed me with a little blush on her visor, walking away stumbling a bit. It clearly hurts, but why does she deny my help? Am I really that annoying to her?

I forget that and walk to the basement. This place always creeped me. Some drones say that the Elliots make experiments down here. Raptor drones, crown drones, all type of weird crap.

Most just laugh it off, but can they trully deny that the Elliots could do that one day?

I open the basement door. The stair down is completely dark, like always. A lot of accidents happened here, because of this darkness...

Good job N, now you're more afraid than before. Why do you always do that?

I can feel the cold in my metal skin, it makes this place even more sinister. Descending the stair a little more, I smell the putrid smell of dry oil.

Why is there dry oil here? Did something happen to a drone? Did someone do something to a drone? Or... Did a drone do something to themselves?

My legs start to give up. The fear makes my body weak, I feel the pressure getting stronger, the air getting thicker, the smell getting worse. My stomach moves from place to place, wanting to spill out the liquid it produces, but I hold it in.

When I reach the end of the stairs, my eyes hollow. On the ceiling there is four chain, four arms being held in each of them. The floor is covered in oil, it sticks my foot to the ground. I can't hold in any longer. Whatever was inside of me, is thrown out.

My vomit mixes with the oil on the ground, making a pond of disgust. I have to get out of here, fast!

When I look back, I see that the basement door is closing. I try to reach it, but my light is cut short.

I walk to the library with a lot of effort. I hate this place, I hate humans. They're all pigs that should be exterminated!

Unfortunaly I can't do anything. I'll live like this and die like this. At least I caan by N's side. That is if he doesn't give up on me.

Why am I always so rude to him? He's always nice and kind, but me? I'm a monster. I push him away as if he was disposable drone, as if he doesn't matter.

If things keep going like this... Let's just get the drones and go back to doing our duty.

I enter the library. The bookshelves are huge, reaching the ceilings. Looking from down here it doesn't seem that they have an end. There is a variety of books here, from phylosophy to math. Everything can be found here, but no one ever comes.

I continue walking, looking for any drones that might be here. On the end of the library, I see a little worker, fuck, it's C.

Always acting strange. There's something wrong with them. It seems that they are doing something, must be them that I was sent to find, since there are no more drones out here.

I walk closer to C, but something takes my attention. There's a black liquid, it smells like oil, dripping from the desk C is in. Are they cutting themselves?

Before I walk to them. C turns to face me.

"Hello V. Evil smile" I back away a bit.

"H-Hey. I think the Elliots are calling you" C looks back at the desk.

"Giggle. I wanted to have a talk with them" C gets up and jumps from the chair.

My eyes hollow. No, this can't be, this can't be real. On the desk C was in, I see N's head, oil dripping from his decapitated neck. His visor showing a red warning, with some wires coming out of his head.

I start walking back. This can't be happening. I look at C, but they were alredy gone. Why did they do this? Why N? Why?

"Evil laugh. The reason is pretty simple S I S T E R"

[msdebslp]

WTF: Why Does My Child Say “Curse Words” Clearly but Struggle with Other Words?

Why Does My Child Say “Curse Words” Clearly but Struggle with Other Words?

Parents often ask why their child can say a curse word like "fuck" with perfect clarity, but struggles to tell them they had "fun" with their "friends" or describe "food" at mealtime. This often comes down to how the brain handles different types of speech, particularly for children with language processing or motor speech challenges.

Volitional vs. Non-Volitional Speech

Speech can be divided into two categories: volitional and non-volitional

- Non-volitional speech is automatic. It comes out without much conscious effort, often tied to emotions or habit. Think of a time when you stubbed your toe and a curse word slipped out before you even realized it—that’s non-volitional. Children, especially those who process language in chunks or "gestalts," often find it easier to say emotionally charged or familiar phrases because these are learned as whole units.

- Volitional speech on the other hand, requires conscious thought and planning. It’s when your child has to actively think about what they want to say, organize their thoughts, and then motorically produce the words. For example, describing "fun" at school, saying "food is good," or talking about "friends" involves volitional speech.

"Islands of Clear Speech" in Motor Speech Disorders

Children with motor speech disorders are often described as having "islands of clear speech." This refers to moments when they suddenly produce a word or phrase very clearly. This usually happens when they’re using non-volitional speech—automatic, familiar, or emotionally charged words that come out effortlessly. Meanwhile, volitional speech, like saying new or less familiar words, demands more precise motor planning and control, which can be much harder for these children.

Why Curse Words Are Easier

In many cases, curse words are tied to strong emotions like frustration or excitement, which can make them easier to say. These words or phrases are often learned in chunks as a whole, meaning they don’t require the child to break them down into individual sounds or words. This can be especially true for children who are gestalt language processors, who often learn and use language in larger, more automatic pieces before they develop the ability to break down language into smaller, more intentional parts.

The Challenge of "F" Sounds

Words like "fun," "food," and "friends" require more effort for a few reasons. First, they involve volitional speech, meaning your child has to consciously plan and organize their words. Second, these words start with the "f" sound, which requires **articulatory precision**—bringing the lower lip to the upper teeth and controlling airflow. This type of motor control can be tricky, especially when trying to piece together new or less familiar words.

3 Easy Tips for Parents

1. Model short phrases: Use simple, functional phrases like "I had fun" or "food is good" in everyday conversation. This helps your child absorb new gestalts.

2. Use visual cues: Show pictures of food, activities, or friends while labeling them. This reduces the speech load and helps connect language with meaning.

3. Make it natural: Rather than quizzing your child, provide casual opportunities to talk about things they enjoy, like during playtime or mealtime. This reduces pressure and makes practicing language feel fun.

Understanding the difference between volitional and non-volitional speech, along with recognizing how your child processes language, can help guide your approach in supporting their communication skills.

Here are some gestalt phrases for each word that encourage kids to talk about their experiences:

Fun:

1. "That was so much fun!"

2. "I had a great time!"

3. "Let’s do it again!"

4. "That made me so happy!"

5. "I love doing that!"

Friends:

1. "I played with my friend."

2. "We had so much fun together!"

3. "My friend is so nice!"

4. "I like being with my friend."

5. "I want to play with them again!"

Food:

1. "This food is yummy!"

2. "I like this snack."

3. "That tastes so good!"

4. "Can I have more, please?"

5. "This is my favorite!"

These easy-to-use phrases help kids express enjoyment, socialize, and talk about their favorite foods in a way that feels natural and engaging.

[seaoftales]

All of the above sounded like a lot to handle for somebody as young as she was, so much so he took a swing from his own drink, only to promptly spit it out once it registered with him how actually young she was when she was a Captain in the Marines. Eyes wide, the young swordsman looked at her as if she'd fallen out of the sky right in front of him and grew a pair of wings while she was at it. ❝ What in the actual fuck?! How old were you, ten? Who in their right mind does that? ❞ Ten was maybe an exaggeration, though Javi went off of the fact that she was some years younger than he was. The question still remained, however --- who in their right mind would make a child join the Marines, not to mention make her Captain?

❝ No wonder you're walking around with a face that makes you look like you swallowed a pickled sea cucumber, ❞ he continued, moving to pour her some more of the alcohol. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to get both of them drunk on a hot day like the one that was, but Melody sure as hell looked like she needed to get drink, and going by Shanks' words, people have an easier time getting things off their chests after having some liquid courage. Were he any less of a man, he could have easily used any and all information against her, but he'd be damned if he ever thought about that. Javi just saw that there was a lot on her mind, and he wanted to help.

❝ If it's any consolation, you'll never experience any kind of pressure here. Shanks is just good like that. Like, he knows who my dad is, but there was never once a time where he tried to push me to be like my old man. He let me choose on my own and supported it. The whole crew is like that. ❞

She was just hitching a ride with them, at least, that's what she told herself. Shanks had never extended an offer to her to become a part of his crew. She was just a guest that had lingered among them for months now. Besides, she didn't want to be one of them, or so she told herself any time the thought crossed her mind.

She'd been lost in thought, staring at the clouds overhead, and hadn't meant to speak aloud. When Javi poked his head up it startled her and she flushed, sitting up as he moved to get them drinks.

Shanks and Benn knew her story, but the rest of the crew? She was just some stray they'd picked up along the way. She took the offered drink with a nod of thanks, taking a healthy drink before even contemplating answering any of the questions he'd thrown her way.

She glanced his way, sighing as she looked skyward again. “All of the above… Sort of,” she laughed at the absurdity, taking another healthy swig of her drink.

“I was a Marine,” and she watched him from the corner of her eye for his reaction. “Decade ago I was the youngest Captain in the fleet…” she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the memory. Who the fuck makes a twelve year old a Captain?!

[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[milazka]

not the greatest feeling ever | 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝.

the less i know the better masterlist

main masterlist

summary: fuck it, i’m not doing a summary, i’m so bad at it. oh! there’s smut btw.

warnings: smut, cursing, mentions of blood, underrage drinking

last thought: i’m proud of this one, took me a lot of time to write, but i think it was worth it! enjoy your reading! love, milz.

─── ° • ❀ ───

The gentle breeze twirls her golden locks in all directions. She hums the lyrics of You never can tell, having watched Pulp Fiction for the hundredth time last night. Her irises are fixed to the slightly damp roadside covered with fresh fallen leaves from this morning rainstorm. The last rays of sunlight caress her baby-like skin as they disappear into the horizon, painting the sky in a mixture of orange and rose. 

“C’mon grandpa, you’re slow as hell!” she teases Marcus, turning her head back to stick her tongue out at him. Standing on his skateboard, he sends her the finger, scraping the pavement with his over-used black vans to gain speed and eventually catch up with her. 

“That’s how the turtle won the race, dumbass,” he gently nudges her shoulder with his hand as he rides his board besides her. She gives a sharp turn of the handlebars to move her tires out of the sand and back on the pavement, giving him a death glare. 

“I almost fell in the ditch, shithead!” he simply laughs, his head falling backward. His dark colored hairs, normally slicked back, are ruffled by the warm September wind, giving him a laid back look that fits him perfectly. She adores hearing his laugh; it's one of the purest and most delightful sounds. It was only recently that she heard him laugh again, having not heard it for months after the day they lost the third musketeer of their trio. It was one of the hardest moments of their lives, but sharing this kind of experience brought them closer than ever. Charlie was there for him when he hit rock bottom, stroking his back while he cried on the shower floor, freezing water running down their damped bodies. She was also by his side the first time he went to therapy, soothingly squeezing his hand before he entered the office.

“If someone had to fall in a ditch, it would be me.”

“You know that Max and I made bet on how long it would take you to fall in a ditch?” she replies, checking his reaction at the corner of her cerulean eyes. He grins. 

“How much did you bet?” he curiously asks, one eyebrow arched. 

“Fifty bucks,” his eyes almost snap out of their sockets. He stops, stepping off his board.

“Fifty bucks?! That’s insulting, thought I was worth more than that,” he shouts as she makes a u-turn, retracing her steps, stopping in front of him.

“I’ll give you half of it if you wait ‘till June,” Charlie sarcastically says to him, elbows leaning on the handlebars of her bicycle. He caught a glimpse of light in her gaze; a twinkle of amusement he always finds in the corners of her softly crinkled eyes when she smiles truthfully.

“Deal,” he winks at her, drawing a small laugh from her slightly parted lips. He picks up Charlie's polaroid from the basket at the front of her bike, signaling for her to ride so he can immortalize the moment for her. Marcus knows she keeps those famous polaroids in an old converse box as a source of happiness; they're memories of moments she doesn't want to forget. 

He takes the little camera to his eyes, snapping a picture when Charlie turns her head to the side to look at him, smiling like there is no tomorrow. As the picture is slowly developing, he hears a squeal of tires and a squeal of surprise from the distance. 

“Fuck Charlie!” he shouts, running towards her as she sits, holding firmly her right forearm. His heart tightens at the sight of her painful face, her traits are torn by pain and he can see tears gathering at the corner of her squinted blue eyes. Marcus hates to see her in pain; he knows she's not the type to complain about anything so when he sees her azure eyes filling with water, he knows it's serious. 

“You got a few scratches,” he whispers, running his eyes over her legs and arms. “We’ll go to your house and clean you up, okay?” she nods, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. Marcus tucks his skateboard under his arm, grabbing the handlebars and seat of Charlie's bike simultaneously.

─── ° • ❀ ───

“Hold still,” his hazel eyes are focused on the mid-depth cut on her forearm. His bushy eyebrows furrowed, giving him a severe, almost cold sober look. She takes a big gulp of the rich whiskey she borrowed from her father's secret stash. 

“Oh fucking hell!” she swears between her clenched teeth when the rubbing alcohol makes contact with the exposed flesh of her forearm. “That’s not the greatest feeling ever,” she whimpers, her forehead resting on his shoulder covered by his green olive shirt. 

“I know, angel, I know,” he runs his hand through her blonde hair, gently stroking her scalp in a soothing way. She keeps her head resting against his shoulder, holding back the tears that threaten to run down her flushed cheeks.

“I’m usually the one taking care of you,” he knows it refers as much to all the times he fell off his skateboard as it does to when he hit rock bottom when their friend passed away. Charlie isn't used to being taken care of; she has always been able to look after herself without anyone's help.

Crying is for the weak.

She swallows her tears, putting her mask back on with a slight smile.

“Your new neighbor saw me fall,” she changes the subject, pausing to take another gulp directly from the whisky bottle. “Great way to make a first impression,” a light laugh escapes from her lips, but she halts when she notices his gaze turning away almost discreetly. “What’s wrong?” 

Over the years, she has learned to read him like the palm of her hand; she knows he looks away to the left when he is hiding something from her and that he scrapes the back of his neck when he is embarrassed.

“I-I had sex with her,” he blurts out, avoiding her gaze while he still applies pressure on the bandage covering the wound on her forearm. 

“Holy shit,” her eyes widened, not expecting this kind of disclosure. “Wait, what about Padma?” 

“You know she is not my girlfriend, Charlz,” he sighs, finally sustaining her non-judgmental azure irises. It' s one of the things he likes about her; she never judges him and even if she did, he wouldn't know since she hides it so well. 

“Was it good?” she does not insist about Padma, knowing perfectly well that she is the first one to know. He doesn't answer, looking thoughtful as if a million thoughts are running through his head. He steals the bottle of alcohol from her, gulping down a few ounces of the throat-burning liquid.

“What aren’t you telling me, Marcus?” 

He shuts his eyes, exhaling loudly.

“I don’t know if I was good… God, I don’t even know if she came!” her heart tightens; he looks distraught and she knows that this is a big deal to him, after all, he just lost his virginity. He breathes heavily, his jaw as tightly clenched as his fists.

“Show me.” 

“What?!” he opens one eye, eyebrows furrowed as if he was questioning if she was being serious.

“Show me what you did, I’ll tell you if it’s good,” 

“You’re drunk, Charlz…I don-” he stops as soon as her silver rings coated hands grip the hem of his olive shirt, grazing the soft skin of his lower abdomen with her fingertips. Sitting on her knees, she brings her head up to his neck, pressing her lips against the skin. The feeling of her wet lips on his burning skin sends a shiver running through his spine. 

“I’m sober enough to remember everything and give you my consent,” she whispers to his ear and he almost moans when she slightly nibbles his lobe. Her hands slips to the back of his neck, forcing him to hover over her as she lies on her back.

Both his hands are lingering on the buckle of her belt, struggling to undo it. She clutches his chin with one hand, plunging her reassuring gaze into his. He looks nervous, his hands trembling slightly when he takes off her jeans. She presses her lips to his Adam's apple, feeling him tense up at first, but relax as she sensuously slides her tongue up to his sculpted jaw.

“A-are you good with two figers?” he nervously asks, his right hand resting on the edge of her panties. 

“Yes,” he hesitantly slips his hand into her panties, parting her legs with his other hand before sliding his index and middle fingers up and down her folds.  She can see him blush when an almost quiet moan escapes her lips at the feeling of his fingers inside her core. He pumps them in and out slowly, as if he was afraid to hurt her.

“Try to curl them in a ‘come here’ movement,” she demonstrates with her own fingers. He nods and mimics her actions, making her whimper under him. 

“That feels good,” she encourages him. “What did you do next?” she softly asks, rubbing her thumb against his cheek to sooth him. 

“Hum, well, we-um, you know, did it,” he says, blushing like a little child who just got his first kiss with the popular girl. 

“You didn’t go down on her?” she asks, looking quite shocked. He seemed clueless. “I mean, you didn’t use your mouth?” 

“Uh no, should I have?” 

“You boys really know nothing about female pleasure,” she sights. “Try watching lesbian porn next time, you will learn A LOT more,” He almost chokes, not expecting to hear this come out of his best friend's lips while his fingers are still inside her. They've always been comfortable with each other, but not to the point of talking about the kind of porn they listen to. The idea of her best friend watching porn and getting herself off almost made him cum in his pants.

“You do know what a cunniligus is, right?” 

“God, Charlz, I’m not five years old! Yes, I know what it is!” he exclaims, his ego lightly bruised by her question. 

“Well, show me then, playboy,” she challenges him, a cocky smile slipping on her lips. the alcohol going slightly to her head.

He pulls her to the edge of the mattress, kneeling at the foot of the bed between her legs. His lips kiss the skin on the inside of her thighs, sucking it until he sees a dark red mark appear. He gets rid of her underwear in the blink of an eye  before placing her legs over his shoulders. He darts his tongue out of his mouth, licking a long strip between her folds without giving her the chance to acknowledge what was going on. He stops once his tongue rests on the bundle of nerves, licking around it in a circular motion.

“Fuck,” she moans. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“You really think I've never watched lesbian porn?” he teases her, biting the inside of her thigh, making her body jolt. He dives back his head to her core, sucking her clit into his mouth.

At leats he know where the clit is.

"Oh my god Marcus," she moans, squirming against his grip. He places his arm over her lower abdomen, pinning her body against the mattress. She can feel his two fingers sliding back into her core, the sudden feeling causing her hips to buck up against his face.  

“Are you gonna be a good girl and cum for me, hun?” he praises her, fingers curling inside her just like she taught him. She could barely feel herself, letting out a series of high-pitched moans as Marcus tongue was working on her bundle of nerves. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers, her head pressed down against the matress. Her fingers tangle in his dark hair, tucking at the roots as she let out a cry, the euphoric feeling taking over her body for a moment. Marcus looks up to see her eyes shut tightly, her legs shaking on his shoulders. He can feel her core pulsating around his fingers as she comes down from her high.

He took a mental picture of her, engraving this moment in his memory forever.

─── ° • ❀ ───

taglist; @cognacdelights @ellegotohell @janedartist

[nineteenninety-six]

A Little Bit of Sunshine

↳ Hector x Reader

↳ Word Count: 3.09k

↳ Requested by @shadechu​

A/N: I have never written for Castlevania before but I really enjoyed writing this, it flowed so easily. Hector is probably OOC but who cares lol. 

Anyway, enjoy :D

Hector had moved to a small town after everything had gone down with Lenore. After she died he realised how much damage she caused him, the lasting marks of her abuse and manipulation still scarred his body and mind and he could no longer stay in a place where they had lived and she had died.

The fact that he managed to escape the bond she had on him and that he was able to deceive her was only able to sustain him for a short while before everything fell apart and Hector was no longer able to act as if everything was okay, so he left and started anew.

The new town was on the smaller side but not small to the point where he would stand out. He easily blended into bustling crowds in the town centre and the residents treated him like any other local. For the first time in a long time, he felt normal, as working for Dracula was an experience that words couldn't explain.

He had his own little cabin in the woods where he could be at peace and the distance to the town centre was far but long enough for him to enjoy the sights as he walked past. All in all, he liked this new path of his life, it was almost completely different than it used to be and he expected to miss it but he enjoyed the calmness and serenity of this new path of his life.

On his usual weekly trip to town, someone called out to him, trying to catch his attention. it was a young woman, probably the same age as him and she was calling for his attention, waving him over to her stall.

"Sir! Sir!"

Hector looked up in surprise and as soon as the woman realised she had his attention a bright smile overtook over her face before she eagerly began to wave him over, swinging her arms back and forth over her head, gathering the attention of the other people around them.

Hector quickly shuffled over to them not wanting her to cause an even bigger scene and pull more attention their way.

"You're new aren't you?" Was the first thing out of her mouth.

Hector flinched in shock at her words, not expecting them. No one else knew he was new and that put him on edge.

"Oh don't look so surprised, I just know everyone that comes here."

Hector raises a brow at her words, " ... That's weird. You do realise that right?"

The woman shrugs, "Maybe but it makes for good business. People are more likely to buy something if I remember them from just previously meeting."

Hector realises that he's standing in front of a stall filled with baked goods, "You're a baker?"

"Family business," She clarifies, “I mostly do the selling due to my - "

"Charm?" Hector cuts in with a sarcastic tone.

"Actually, I was going to say my good looks but yes charm too." The woman grins.

Hector couldn't help but bark out a laugh, the woman never missed a beat.

"I'm (Y/N) in case you wanted to know" (Y/N) informed him with a wink.

Hector had to twist his lips so that the smile that so desperately wanted to escape, couldn't.

"Hector" He introduced himself.

"Well Hector, what can I get you? " (Y/N) asked, gesturing to the spread of baked goods in front of her.

Oh, she was smart. Catching his attention, making him come over to his stall and

converse with her in front of everyone and now he could surely not been seen walking away with nothing after taking up her time. While he didn't really care about the local’s opinions about him, he didn't want to be outcasted more than he already was.

"I'll have a loaf and a sweet pie please"

(Y/N) shoots him a bright smile and packs up his items, then collects his money.

"Thank you, Hector. I hope to see you again soon"

"I'll see you again" Hector responded

As he began to walk back home, Hector thought back on how easily (Y/N) made him feel at ease, how he brought a smile to his face and drew laughter from and he got scared.

This is how Lenore got her claws in him, she manipulated and lied to him before tricking him into servitude and he never wanted something like that to ever happen again.

He decided for the health of his mind, he would keep his distance from (Y/N). He couldn't find it in himself to completely ghost her and ignore her so he'll keep cordial. He'll be friendly but he couldn't let himself become close to her.

.•° ✿ °•.

His plan worked well, every time he went up to town he stopped by her stall and bought what ended up being his usual order of a loaf and a sweet pie, engaged in small talk with (Y/N) before leaving and it worked well for weeks until he had a dream about Lenore one night.

A mere dream had knocked him off-kilter. He had awoken a mess and fell out of his bed in his confused and frantic attempt to escape his blankets. He only managed to crawl a few paces before collapsing on the cold floor, his remaining energy only enough to let him roll onto his back. Hector blinked lazily up at the ceiling as everything he had locked away came rushing back. He relived the moment when he fell for her, the moment he realised that she had tricked him, the moment when she realised he betrayed her and then when she had died by her own will.

Everything that had occurred over the last few years played in front of his eyes and he hated every part of it. He could never forgive himself for being so naive and trusting yet he missed those traits of his.

When he 'awoke' again, the sun was moving low, signifying sunset wasn't far away. He pulled himself up and washed his face at the basin before he left his cabin, his feet taking him into town. The town centre was still busy despite the late hour and so was she, the woman who he came to see.

Despite the other stall owners who had either left or were in the process of doing so, her stall was still set up with what remaining items she had left. She was sitting on a stall with a book on her lap in a different world and Hector felt bad about disturbing her but he needed her.

He didn't even have to call her name, as soon as he was a few feet away, she looked up at him with a smile and closed her book shut, though when she got a proper look at him, her smile faltered.

"Hector?" She made her way over to him, brow furrowed in concern, "Is everything okay?"

He must look like a mess. He certainly felt it on the inside and he had been in a trance since he woke up, not paying any attention to his looks.

"I... um, I -" Hector stumbled over his words, his tongue suddenly heavy.

"Why don't you take a seat" (Y/N) guided Hector to her stall and offered him some water from the pouch at her side.

Seeing that he was in no position to talk about what happened, (Y/N) changed the topic slightly, "I thought you were not coming today. I got so used to seeing you, it would be a shame if I did not see you."

"But do not fret, I set aside your usual order for you," She said as she showed him a little wrapped up basket.

Hector nodded, the change in conversation took the pressure off his shoulders and he felt more at ease to speak.

"What do you do with the ones you do not sell? "He asked

"Today these are going to the homeless. I usually alternate between them, the orphanage and poor families"

"That is kind of you. Nobody did anything like that when I was young"

"I think the world is horrible enough with the wars and death and it costs nothing to do a little good within your own community" (Y/N) then looked up at the sky and noticed the changing colours, “Do you want to come with me as I give these out?”

Desperate for more of a distraction, Hector agrees and he helps her clear up her stan before they set off to a different part of town, him carrying the basket of baked goods for the homeless.

“Do you have any family, Hector?” (Y/N) asked.

Hector shook his head, his grey hair swishing around his chin as he did so, “Just me”

“Hm, well if you want any annoying younger siblings, I’ll eagerly give you all of mine”

“Surely they’re not that bad-”

(Y/N) lets out a laugh, “One day I’ll take you to meet them. You’ll regret your words!”

As they walked around, handing the food to the less fortunate, Hector noticed the strange way (Y/N) behaved. Her head constantly twitched one way to the other, as if someone was calling for her attention but she stopped herself before fully turning around to see and her eyes were flickering about like seeing things that weren’t there.

“(Y/N)? Is everything okay?” Hector asked

(Y/N) froze when he spoke, looking at him with wide eyes, she twisted her head around to make sure no one was nearby before she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hidden alcove.

There was fear in her eyes as she gripped his hands tightly, “I am telling you this because I trust you but you cannot tell anyone or they will kill me.”

“(Y/N)...?”

(Y/N) casts one more precautionary look around her before speaking, “I can speak to animals”

Hector blinked in surprise, that was the last thing he expected.

“You...speak to animals?”

“Speak, understand, you know the whole thing”

“...The whole thing?” Hector repeated after her.

(Y/N)’s shoulder slumped in disappointment at his words, “You do not believe me. Of course, you don’t, I sound like a crazy woman.”

“No, no!” Hector was quick to reassure her, “I don’t think you’re crazy, of course not.”

(Y/N) gripped Hector’s hands tighter in relief and he suddenly realised that they had not stopped holding hands since she had dragged him. Her hands were soft but strong and steady and they fit perfectly in his, he never wanted to let go.

“I could do since I was a child and I told my parents but they thought I was a child with a large imagination so they ignored me,” (Y/N) began to elaborate on her talent, “And when I was ten there was a witch-burning in our old town, an older woman was accused of conjuring spirits and setting against the people of the village but in reality, she was just a sick old woman who needed help. After that, I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about you know what”

“Why did you tell me?” Hector asked.

“...I don’t know. There’s something about you, so understanding, empathetic, trustworthy. I know I can trust you.”

(Y/N) had revealed her deepest secret to him, made herself vulnerable yet he could not do the same to her, though the ability to communicate with animals was much different than being a forgemaster.

“You can trust me, I promise I will not tell anyone.”

(Y/N)’s shoulders relaxed and she gave him a brief smile, “Your belief in me means more than you know.”

“Now,” Hector lifted the basket up, “Should we finish what we started?”

It had progressively gotten darker, the sun only moments away from going down completely.

“Of course! We must finish before it gets too dark.” (Y/N) stepped out of the alcove and hurried down the street, dragging Hector behind her, still holding on to his hand.

-

It was dark by the time they began to walk home, Hector insisting on walking her home so that she wasn’t alone at night. She stopped in front of a little cabin, not unlike his, it also wasn’t that far away from his.

“You don’t live with your family?” Hector asked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “It is better for me this way. I love my family, truly but the chance of them finding out about me is something I can’t risk. I cannot truly say that they wouldn’t expose me… there are some things that are beyond even family ties.”

“Anyway,” (Y/N) spoke with a sigh, “It is late, I need to sleep. Thank you for today, Hector. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Hector waited until (Y/N) had reached her door and spoke again, “Can we...meet again soon?”

(Y/N) gave him a toothy smile, “Of course. In two days by the lake? I can bring a picnic for lunch.”

Hector nodded, “I’ll see you then.”

He waited until her door closed before he made his way home, his heart feeling happy. He had forgotten how he felt earlier that day and (Y/N) had completely turned his day around. He did feel guilt though, he went to for help, a distraction which she provided and then she revealed a deep secret of hers yet he couldn’t even tell her about his nor his past with Lenore or history with Dracula and being a forgemaster. The things he carried were heavy yet (Y/N) had already been so understanding and kink that he didn’t fear telling them to her, he knew she would understand.

In two days at the picnic, he would tell her.

.•° ✿ °•.

(Y/N) was already by the lake by the time he arrived, speaking out loud to someone he couldn’t see but when he heard the responding barks and yelps, he realised that she was talking to a dog. He hurried his pace to catch up to her, excited to see her communicate to animals in person.

“Is that a dog you’re speaking to?” He shouted as he jogged over to her.

(Y/N) spun around with a smile, “Yes! I’ll introduce you to him!”

She crouched down and took the dog into her arms before turning towards him after he finally reached her,

“Hector this is- Cezar”

“-Cezar”

Hector and (Y/N) spoke at the same time. Hector stared at the dog he had not seen since Carmilla had dragged him away after Dracula died and (Y/N) stared at Hector, surprised he knew the little mongrel dog.

Cezar eagerly barked at Hector, his tiny body wriggling in excitement as he tried to escape (Y/N)’s hold, so she let him down and watched as he raced over to Hector barking like mad and when Hector kneeled down, the door jumped into his arms and wiggled some more.

“...So I guess you know each other then?” (Y/N) asked.

“Cezar is my dog,” Hector explained, giving the small dog rubs and pats, “I got separated from him a while ago but how did you meet him?”

“We stumbled across each other last year and then we became close companions...but I’ve always been curious about something about him.”

“Is it that he looks like he should be dead?”

(Y/N) laughed, “Yes, Hector. Don’t get me wrong, I love the little dog but he looks a bit beyond his years.”

Hector put Cezar down and together they began walking towards the lake so they could set up their picnic.

He took a deep breath before he began to explain what he could do, “I’m a forgemaster.”

“Forgemaster? What’s that?”

Of course, she wouldn’t know what that was, her world was not the same as his.

“I can bring back animals and humans from the dead and call demons from hell.”

“Wow...that’s uh...wow”

“I’m sorry for dumping this on you, I know it’s quite heavy stuff.”

“I did not know that was possible”

“Many don’t. It’s beyond comprehension.”

“If I wasn’t looking at proof right now” (Y/N) pointed towards Cezar who was trotting ahead of them, “I wouldn’t believe it either.”

“Is that what caused you such distress the other day?” (Y/N) asked as they found a place to sit down.

“No, no, that was about Lenore.”

(Y/N) kept quiet allowing Hector to speak at his own pace.

“I was taken captive, stuck in a cell and Lenore gained my trust, pretending that she was someone that I could trust only to betray me and me her slave to her and her sisters. I was under their or more specifically her control for over a year until I managed to trick her and end the ‘bond’.”

“Where’s she now?”

“Dead. She was a vampire and decided it was her time to go.”

“Did you love her?” (Y/N) asked

“No, I don’t think I did. After I realised what she had done to me any feelings that I may have had disappeared, they were not formed authentically. I still feel incredibly stupid about the whole thing, I was foolish to believe someone who was involved in sisterhood with the person who captured me would genuinely care for me.”

“You were not foolish, you were human Hector '' (Y/N) comforted him, “You were vulnerable and she took advantage of that, you should not feel ashamed. You are strong that’s why you’re here with me right now and Lenore is no longer alive. You will never be proud of yourself if you keep on diminishing what you’ve achieved so far. You’ll never be happy and I want you to be happy”

Hector takes her hand in his, “I want to be happy.”

(Y/N) smiles at him, “You will be, I know you will.”

“I want to be happy with you”

“Oh-” (Y/N) smile changes into a softer one that tickles Hector’s heart, “I want to be happy with you too.”

“Imagine it,” Hector falls onto his back and tugs (Y/N) down with him, “You, me, Cezar in a cabin in the woods and all the animals you wish to speak to”

(Y/N) laughs, “You wouldn’t believe how chatting animals are, I’m fine with just being me you and Cezar for the moment.”

Cezar jumps up on Hector’s chest with a bark before settling down with a huff.

“Sounds like he agrees”

[eclipsednodes]

SHADOW WORK SIMPLIFIED

What is shadow work?

If I had to describe shadow work in one word, it would be introspection. Introspection is the examination of your own mental state and is necessary in order to learn more about your fundamental nature. Although it may sound off-putting and even scary at first, shadow work is a necessary component in the process of healing. We all have aspects of ourselves that we’ve rejected and hidden away out of fear. Through shadow work, we’re able to reflect on our thoughts, emotions, and habits so that we can find the root cause of our suffering and heal ourselves. By reincorporating those aspects of ourselves that we’ve denied, we feel more fulfilled and can begin to love ourselves fully. 

Where does shadow work come from? 

The concept of the shadow self comes from Carl Jung who believed that our shadow self is the subconscious aspect, or “dark side”, of our personality that our conscious ego doesn’t identify with. However, I would like to clarify that “dark” does not imply or equate with bad. That which resides outside of our consciousness can be either good or bad, but aren’t inherently reflective of our value or “goodness” as a person. 

Although these repressed aspects of ourselves can manifest negatively, it isn’t because those parts of us are “bad”, but that the process of repression is inherently painful and toxic. This is reflected by Jung when he states, "Everyone carries a shadow, and the less it is embodied in the individual's conscious life, the blacker and denser it is.” He believed that until we’ve merged our conscious and subconscious selves, that our conscious would be “the slave of the autonomous shadow”. This is due to the shadow self overwhelming our conscious selves by falling victim to our own self-imposed traps. 

Through assimilating this shadow self, not over-identifying with it, Jung believed we go through the process of enantiodromia, thereby integrating the subconscious by reincorporating our shadow selves into our personality and allowing us to solidify ourselves through wholeness. He best described this by stating "assimilation of the shadow gives a man body, so to speak.” However, don’t fall into the misconception that shadow work is a short-term practice. Shadow work is a continuous practice and integration of the shadow self is a will take place throughout your life.

How do I do shadow work?

In the last question, I identified that practicing self-reflection is a key component of shadow work, but what does that mean? What am I supposed to be reflecting on? Well, the first thing that you should focus on is being present throughout the day. Identify feelings that come up throughout the day and observe them objectively. What situation or interaction triggered these emotions? How did I react to those emotions? Were my emotions controlling me or was I in control of my emotions? Why did this situation or interaction cause me to feel this way? How did I cope with those feelings (self-harming, lashing out at others, communicating my feelings, journalling, etc.)? Did I punish myself for getting upset? If so, why? 

There are numerous ways to reflect on your feelings and experiences in order to get a better understanding of yourself. Through evaluating how you react to situations, which situations upset you, and how you managed those feelings, you’re able to build the foundation to understanding your emotions and bridge the gap between your subconscious and conscious mind.

Once you’ve done this, you’ll find that the emotions you feel in the present are reflective of unhealed emotions from your past. Perhaps the reason you feel that you’re unable to set boundaries as an adult is because as a child, your parents never respected your boundaries by going through your phone or diary, yelling at you when you said no to a request, forcing you into situations that made you feel you had no choice. 

By identifying the root cause of your emotional pain, you’re able to address it in the present and heal from the trauma. The simplest way that I’ve found to address them is through journalling. You can purchase a physical journal or even use your notes app, either way, you’re writing out your feelings and reflections to gain deeper insight. It’s important to remember that this looks different for anyone and that the best way to approach shadow work is by doing what feels most natural! You can choose to stick to self-reflective journal prompts, vent about whatever is upsetting you, write letters to whoever has hurt you, etc. Ultimately, you can guide yourself based off of what you feel you need and where you are in your journey.

What parts of yourself do you find yourself rejecting the most? Many of us have experienced the pain of rejection in some aspects of our lives and sometimes, it’s incredibly painful and leaves us with long-lasting wounds. We end up going through our lives carrying baggage that we don’t even know we have! Many times, I’ve found myself wondering why I felt so repulsed by aspects of myself and why I felt so strongly that they needed to be locked away forever. I couldn’t allow myself or others to see my truest self, my whole self, out of fear. I was scared of being rejected, shamed, humiliated by the people around me. I was scared of hurting other people by being myself and of being hurt by others. That’s no way to live, is it? When we tell ourselves that aspects of ourselves aren’t good enough, we end up going through life devaluing ourself. We’ve broken our own trust by rejecting ourselves, we’ve told ourselves that we aren’t good enough or worthy of love. In shadow work, you’re called to go inward and unpack everything that we’ve kept hidden for years and sometimes even decades. 

Bring the parts of yourself that you’ve repressed to the surface and nourish them with love, allow yourself to see that ALL OF YOU is deserving of love and support. For you, that could mean unlearning your unhealthy beliefs about food or eating, allowing yourself to be emotional around the people you love (despite how much you were told that you were too emotional, a crybaby, too sensitive in the past), allowing yourself to relax without feeling guilty about not being productive because you recognize your needs (even though you feel your sense of worth is tied to being productive at the cost of your own health).

Common misconceptions about shadow work?

Shadow work is evil or bad, the shadow is evil or bad 

The purpose of shadow work is healing through working with your subconscious to release repressed aspects of yourself and heal from painful, traumatic experiences. Your shadow side is simply your unconscious and to believe that it’s bad is to believe that you are bad. It’s merely the part of yourself that you aren’t aware of consciously and shouldn’t be feared. 

Certain emotions are “bad”

When you let go of the idea that emotions are either good or bad, you’ll allow yourself to just be and stop putting so much pressure on yourself to feel “good” all of the time. Happiness isn’t a constant state of being so stop expecting to be all of the time, we have a range of emotions for a reason so stop being ashamed of them. Your feelings are natural and if you feel like they’re out of control and something to be ashamed of, there is nothing wrong with that! It’s okay to feel like your emotions are controlling you because that isn’t permanent. Your feelings aren’t permanent and are completely manageable with proper guidance! The reason you feel like your emotions are controlling you is because you probably don’t have the knowledge to cope with them in an effective and healthy way. It’s helpful to sit with your emotions alone and look at them objectively without placing any judgement on them, this will help you calm down and assess your feelings. From there, you can identify what you need to relax and recover as well as acknowledge to yourself that your feelings are natural. When you stop categorizing your emotions as bad, they’re no longer shameful to experience and therefore you can see with better clarity how to cope with them and move on.

I’ve already released it so…

Why am I still upset?

Why does it still keep popping up in my head?

Why haven’t I moved on?

Why am I not making progress?

With the rise of self development and spirituality, I find that more and more people are rushing to complete their healing. Healing is a continuous, life-long cycle and not a destination. Putting the pressure on yourself to reach the place of ultimate healing is not only toxic, but it impedes your ability to actually heal anything. Healing is about love, compassion, and patience and it’s not going to happen according to a timeline. Allow yourself the time to experience your emotions, see them objectively, forgive yourself and others and move on without the pressure of expectations. 

 Another reason that you could be experiencing this is that despite the work you think you’ve done, it hasn’t been sufficient. I’ve found that a lot of journal prompts provided online are surface level at best and can be more pacifying than revealing. If you’re not feeling anything while doing your inner work, you’re not doing it correctly. Ultimately, this is about uncovering what makes us UNCOMFORTABLE and moving through those feelings. When you allow yourself to experience the sadness, hurt, anger, and/or frustration than you’re telling yourself that these feelings are okay and don’t need to be suppressed. The reality is that no matter what you’re feeling, you are allowed to experience those emotions and it’s only human! Unfortunately, many people associate lower vibrational emotions as bad, but this is a huge misconception! Telling yourself that anger, sadness, etc. are “bad” implies that you shouldn’t experience these emotions and that you have to get rid of them which is not only wrong, but unhealthy. There is no right or wrong emotions so don’t buy into the belief that you should feel a certain way, simply allow yourself to be and you’ll find that it’s much easier to navigate your emotions and needs. The only way to make it to the other side is by wading through the water, be patient and know that you’re feeling exactly what you should be. When you stop censoring yourself, you’ll discover a newfound sense of freedom and wholeness. 

 If you find yourself circling back to certain topics, for example, your ex-boyfriend than perhaps there are triggers in your environment that remind you of the situation, you have more that needs to be addressed that you may not have been ready for or aware of previously (hence why shadow work is a practice that is ongoing), or they’re representative of a deeper issue that you’re repressing. Whatever the cause is, the same methods as earlier will apply and can be discerned through your own intuition. 

What are some basic journal prompts that I can do?

What feelings come up when you think of ____?

How did that experience make you feel emotionally? How did it make you feel about yourself? How did it make you feel about the other person or people?

Write a letter to yourself, your inner child, the people who’ve hurt you, and the people you’ve hurt. Express how you feel honestly, without holding back and then forgive yourself and the other person.

If you could say anything to yourself or another person for closure, what would it be?

How have these situations and experiences impacted your mental health? How have they affected your belief system about yourself, other people, and the world?

What about yourself are you ashamed of? What about yourself are you embarrassed of? What about yourself makes you angry? What do you regret? Why do you feel this way about yourself and where do these feelings stem from?

What makes you feel most alone? What makes you feel most loved? How can you incorporate that knowledge into your life to make it better?

What’s the most hurtful thing someone has said or done to you? Why did it hurt you so much? How does it still affect you now? How can you heal from it and allow yourself to move on?

What do you need to forgive yourself for? What do you need to forgive others for?

Where do you feel you lack security in your life? Why? How does this impact your life and your relationships?

This is a list of generic prompts for you to start with, but feel free to message me if you need help with more specific topics or I can make another post altogether for journal prompts.

[commonwealthoccurences]

Companions React: Sole Breaks Down

Request: “Could I ask for companions comforting a sole that’s usually an emotional rock, that they hadn’t seen this vulnerable ever? Like they come back from being away and just crumble into a sobbing mess. Pretty please?”

Note: *bangs spoon against pot* come get the hurt/comfort. CW: Mentions of unnamed characters deaths.

The setting:

Upon Preston’s request, Sole took off to a distant settlement to reorganize their resources, set up defenses, and bring them into the trade route. These excursions usually took about a week or two, so Sole could make sure they were fully stable before returning to Sanctuary to attend to their other duties. With this trip, however, they requested their companion stay in Sanctuary; they could handle this on their own, and the companion deserved a break.

Two weeks later, Sole returns, shoulders weighed down by their pack, ladened with goods the settlers had insisted they take with them. It had been a tough week, though that wasn’t really a new thing in Sole’s book, or anyone’s, really. Unfortunately, Sole hadn’t been able to predict the fact that some sort of disease would run through the tiny settlement while they were there, taking several of the members with it as it left.

They scrubbed at their skin in a nearby body of water every morning of those two weeks, rubbed raw and pink as a result of Sole’s quietly hysterical distress. They wanted no trace of settlement on them. There were elements of guilt in their relief to return home, but with returning home came the fact that they were safe enough to reflect on their weeks away from Sanctuary. There seemed to be no hiding from what had happened.

Sole got through the main street of Sanctuary well enough, sending nods to passing settlers, with a brief stop to drop off some of the food they had brought back with them with their local merchant; he would give it away to those that dropped in throughout the day. Once they made it down the road and to the entrance of their home, they felt the dam break. Their hands shook as they pulled the door open and moved inside, doing their best to ignore the tears that began to trickle down their face.

(*Gage’s scenario takes place upon their return to Nuka World’s Fizztop Grille)

Cait:

Cait was waiting just inside, having taken up residence in Sole’s living room with Dogmeat.

She went to make a joke about Sole being late, but when she looked up, she lost the words quite quickly

Sole’s shoulders were shaking, and it was quite obvious that they were trying to hide that they were crying, but it was impossible to not see

She practically tripped over herself to get to Sole, who was acting casual by rearranging the items in their back they had set on the floor

Her desire to comfort and protect Sole overrode her hesitance for physical affection and she found herself hugging Sole far too tightly than she should’ve

But it was partially panic on her end that caused her to grip them so tight

“Christ, what’s a matter?”

The only sound Sole made was a choking whimper and Cait gripped them even tighter

Curie:

She reads the distress in their stance the moment they cross the threshold into their home

Similarly to Cait, she gets up from where she’s sitting immediately, but stops short of Sole

“Oh, goodness. Are you alright?” She reaches out but doesn’t quite touch them, not wanting to intrude

Sole shakes their head, unable to disguise their very obvious distress

“Physical or emotional?”

Sole opens their mouth to say emotional and gets out about half the word before choking on their own breath and curling forward into themself

“Would you like a hug?” Her voice is quieter this time.

Sole nods and she brings them in for a soft hug, rubbing their back

Danse:

Danse is far more emotionally intelligent when it comes to other people’s feelings than people give him credit for

He’s seen it happen before; soldiers compartmentalize their emotions as much as they can, for years even, but everyone has a breaking point

And sometimes it’s over something one might consider small, like breaking a dish, or sometimes it’s loss that brings them to their knees, as it would anyone

Regardless, he’s known all along that one day Sole won’t be able to suppress their emotions anymore

When they come in crying and shaking, looking defeated, he’s unsurprised. Sad in an inevitably knowing sort of way

He gets up and walks over, taking their pack from their hands and helping them shed the heavy jacket that was weighing them down

He requests they sit and takes off their boots before going to get them a glass of water

He doesn’t say much, considering he doesn’t have much to say, but he’d much rather show how he cares via actions rather than words, anyway

Deacon:

He’s somewhat similar to Danse in the fact that he knows Sole’s going to need to break at some point, however it’s in less of a “I’ve seen this before” attitude and more in the fact that he can relate

But Sole has an easier time trusting than he does, so he knows their break is coming at some point, whereas he knows that there’s never going to be a point where he allows someone else to see what Sole is allowing him to witness

So when they stand there, defeated, looking over at him like a lost child, he simply opens his arms

He’s not one for hugs, but he makes exceptions, and it seems this is one of those situations that calls for an exception

When they sob into his shoulder, he pats them on the back and replies with a simple, “I know, Boss. I know.”

Gage:

Gage is chewing at a piece of dried Mirelurk, grimacing at the salty taste.

Sole makes their way across Fizztop Grille, dropping their pack carelessly next to one of the couches.

Similarly, they drop down next to Gage where he’s sitting overlooking the rest of Nuka World, not saying a word.

After a moment, punctuated by a very obvious sigh, Gage looks over at Sole. He chews contemplatively for a moment, “You and me both. Wanna talk about it?”

Sole shakes their head and Gage responds, “Cool.”

He pats them on the back, admittedly, awkwardly and a bit too harsh to be comforting, but it’s Gage

He’s doing his best

Haylen:

Haylen has Dogmeat in her lap chewing at a Radstag bone, her hand running mindlessly over his fur

She doesn’t jump up when Sole comes in, cautious at the idea of spooking them

“Sole,” She calls out, shifting to move her feet flat on the floor

When they don’t respond and instead sniffle, she’s motioning Dogmeat off her lap and stepping towards them

“Everything alright?”

Sole shakes their head and she presses her lips together in worry, “Anything I can help with?” another shake of Sole’s head

She brushes their hair away from their face with a soft, “Oh, Sole.” and brings them into a light side-hug

Hancock:

He really does like to think he keeps his cool easily, but he really doesn’t in this case

Sole’s crying and that’s not something he thought would ever happen

“Whoa, whoa. Talk to me, what’s going on, Sunshine?”

“Bad day.” Sole chokes out

He suppresses nervous laughter, knowing it can’t just be that, but lets it go and instead puts an arm around their shoulders to pull them in for a tight hug, snug and reassuring, with his other arm finding their waist

MacCready:

He’s alert immediately, thoughts jumping to them being hurt, and potentially fatally so

Considering he thinks its an emergency, he’s in front of them and examining them for injuries within seconds

Sole doesn’t protest for the longest time, but eventually they grab ahold of his wrists and shake their head

He stops for a moment and looks them over again before sighing; this is something he doesn’t know what to do about

“Sit. You’re going to collapse if you’re not careful.”

When they’re seated he helps them shrug off their coat and sits nearby, not pressuring, but available if they want to talk

Nick:

Nick’s view is similar to Danse’s, and he isn’t quite surprised when they come in crying

He sets the pen he was writing with down and shifts back in his chair, opening his arms for a hug if they want

When they cross the room he wraps them in a hug and rubs their lower back, trying his best with the awkward angle him sitting provides

“You need to take time for yourself.” He recommends, but other than that, he remains mostly silent

Piper:

The queen of panic, despite her best efforts

She’s used to tears because of her experiences with Nat, but not from Sole of all people

She does something similar to Mac, where she checks them over briefly, before she realizes this isn’t a physical injury that’s hurting them

She’s competing with Cait when it comes to tight hugs, wishing she could protect them from whatever’s bothering them so

A sympathy crier, she has to blink away her own tears

“Let it out, Blue. We can talk about it later, okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine. I swear.”

Preston:

Preston’s not sure how to handle things, considering how used to Sole being a rock he is

He knows it’s not quite right, considering he knows other people view him the same way, and it’s incredibly difficult being the one holding it together all the time, but he’s still genuinely surprised when he sees they’re crying

He knows what to do when he realizes what’s going on, though; exactly what he wishes he could request from someone else

He brings them into a hug and mumbles reassurances; that they don’t have to be the tough one all the time, that their emotions aren’t weakness, and that everything’s going to be okay

X6-88:

A fan of mutual silence, X6 helps them get comfortable and brings them into their room; he’s always viewed quarters as the safest place to be, both in the Institute and when Sole gave him his own quarters afterwards

He helps them into bed, making sure they’re comfortable, before asking if they have any small injuries they need addressed before settling in

If they say yes he cleans and dresses their wounds as gently as possible before settling into bed near them, a respectable distance away, but within reach if they need, and begins reading a book Sole left on their nightstand

He knows it’s hard to be alone when you’re being attacked by emotions, but they don’t seem to want to talk about what’s going through their head quite yet; instead, he rubs their back and encourages them to cry it out

[one-rosy-sock]

Coming Undone | Abner Krill x fem!Reader (1/2)

Go to the {Ao3 Link} for more info...

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021) Rating: T (M for future chapter) Summery: You’re a psychiatrist. You should know the warning signs when a relationship with a patient is becoming problematic. But you refuse to consider this, because Abner Krill is a lot of things, and violent is not one of them. Warnings: PTSD, childhood abuse, trauma, brief mention of past suicide attempt. 

Notes: no use of y/n Disclaimer: Author is NOT a real therapist. I do not own DC comics. __ The first time you met Abner Krill, he was recommended to you by a colleague at Belle Reve.

It had been several weeks since the convicted metahumans defeated Starro, that giant one-eyed starfish. Sometimes it amazes you to no end what strange things exist in this world. The Corto Maltese coup and monster defeat held onto headlines for several weeks until the next big thing came to top it. Seeing such exciting news affect your patients wasn’t unusual, but to have a high profile patient be a part of such news was a first, you’ll admit.

As for you, well, things were pretty much the same. You see your patients during the week at your office. You’re a licensed psychiatrist, and oftentimes you see men and women who have been convicted of a felony or are ex-prisoners themselves. It wasn’t a dream job for many women, much less anyone, to counsel people so troubled. You aren’t like everyone else, though. No, you might not have x-ray vision or super strength, or any super fancy gear to punch bad guys, but you do have a gift not many have: A good ear and an open heart.

And a prescription notepad, but you are determined to make your sessions more than just a pill dispensary.

You are aware of who Abner Krill is. The Polka-Dot Man. One of the metahumans who went to Corto Maltese and defeated Starro. This has partially immortalized him in the media as a superhero, despite his past as a prisoner. Some of your patients were metahumans too, but none as powerful or as widely known as the Polka-Dot Man. His identity and those of his teammates had been concealed from the general public. As of last week, you know his real name.

His appointment’s in the morning on a Tuesday. Your secretary came by as you were straightening up your office to let you know he had arrived. You fluff the couch pillows, throw blanket over the back, tissue box on the side table, a mild scent infuser on your desk. The century-old computer at your desk whirls to cool itself off. Earlier you'd taken the time to shoot an email to Ms. Waller confirming Mr. Krill's appointment.

You follow your secretary up front. She goes to her desk and you step into the waiting room.

Though foolish, you half expected to see Abner in his super suit. The polka dot suit and headgear. Instead, he’s wearing a pair of khaki trousers that hugged high over his hips, and a somewhat flashy, silk button-up tucked neatly into the waist. And, dare you say, a fanny pack. His outfit looked straight out of the 70s or 80s. You don’t know the definitive difference between the decades. But his shirt looks clean and pressed, the collar tucked down nicely. He has one leg over a knee, bouncing it rhythmically as he watches the fish swim around the tank in the wall. It looks like he tried to read a magazine, but stopped halfway, finger wedged between the pages.

“Mr. Krill?”

He jerked in response to his name, swinging his head up with a guilty look gleaming in his eyes. You think of a puppy who’s been caught peeing on the carpet. His expression, or perhaps the way his face was structured, reminded you of a puppy too. His face was somewhat sallow, somewhat droopy. Lines indicate a lot of frowning. Like a sad, droopy cartoon dog. His face narrowed down from his eyes, making his red cupid’s bow mouth seem small. A strong, straight nose dominates his face. His big eyes seem dark and questioning. Like a scared, lost child.

Krill quickly shoots up like a bean sprout, shaking his hands out. The magazine drops to the floor. He swears, bends down to pick it up, and anxiously fusses over righting it on the coffee table. You watch the way the glossy purple cuffs wave as he moves about in jerky, quick moves.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets warily, avoiding your gaze and staring at your shoes.

“You must be Abner,” you smile. You reach out your hand. In a painful, pregnant pause he visibly wavers as he stares at your hand as if you’d stuck out a gun at him. Finally, he reaches out to take your hand.

He has a strong grip. Sweaty hands.

Hastily, he pulls away.

“Nice to meet you. Why don’t we head on back?”

He nods. His legs are long yet his steps uncertain, reminding you of a gangly adolescent. He follows you down the hall from the waiting room and awkwardly stands by as you open the door to your private office. You hear him pat his thighs as he waits. Like a shadow, he follows and sticks close but careful not to touch. Barely making a sound.

After your office door clicks shut, the two of you sit in your respective places. Your desk chair has a high back, cloaked in a fraying, multicolor knitted throw blanket. A bit garish against the dull beige walls and simple yet whimsical desk decorations beside you. There’s a poster that reads It’s OK to feel this way: over a circle divided by colors and sections, listing different emotions.

You pull your knees up and begin to take off your shoes.

Your patient stares in visible confusion.

“Would you like to take your shoes off?” You ask, setting your shoes aside as you straighten up in your chair. “I find it easier to relax without them.”

“Um…” he trails off, his downturned mouth pursing as he considers this. The tension rolling off him makes him stiff and hard to read. All you’re getting from him so far is how much he doesn't want to be here.

You watch him while occupying your hands with things on your desk so he doesn’t feel pressured to make a decision. From the corner of your eye, you watch him swallow, Adam's apple bobbing, and he slowly reaches down to untie and slip off his oxford shoes. He sets them neatly beside his feet. Hands tucked in his lap, sock feet on the ground. Looking up at you somewhat imploringly.

“This is a safe space, Abner,” you smile at him. You have your clipboard and pen in your lap, but you make yourself relaxed and as welcoming as you can. Note-taking can be done later. Visibly, at least. Don’t want to make him think you’re already assessing him before y'all begin to talk. Can’t force him to talk.

Ex-prisoners often struggle with reforming to civilization after release. He couldn’t be forced to attend therapy here despite the outside forces that pressured him to. If he wanted to walk out, he could. Abner was so tense he seemed to be walking on eggshells. He struggled to relax his shoulders, like his limbs were too long for his body. During all this, he hadn’t met your gaze one.

“Whatever we talk about won’t leave this room, unless, for instance, you said you plan to hurt yourself or someone else.”

This gets a reaction out of him. A grimace, a shake of his head. “No, I wouldn’t…”

“Of course not. You’re a superhero now, right?”

He grins. It’s brief, boyish, sheepish. He’s studying the design of your clothes. You consider that progress from your feet.

“You were recommended to me by Dr. Rooney at Belle Reve,” you begin conversationally, baldly, wanting to get a feel of where he was coming from. Your colleague had said Krill was not a violent inmate, but was often verbally bullied by other prisoners. He tended to avoid crowds, thus mostly avoided. More than once he had been on suicide watch. Casually, you glance down at your clipboard. Born in Philadelphia to Augustine Krill--father unknown--and tried and convicted for first-degree murder as an adult in the city of Metropolis. He was incarcerated at Belle Reve shortly after turning eighteen. He was in his early forties now.

You look back up at Abner. He had that sad puppy dog look again, staring at nothing in particular with his neck hunched.

“Did you and Dr. Rooney get along?”

“D-Doesn’t your notes say?”

You make a face. “I want to know what you think of Rooney, not what he thinks.”

Abner didn’t answer right away. “He was okay.”

“Okay,” you echo, licking your bottom lip as you cock your head up. “Okay is better than nothing.”

“We mostly spoke about my mother.”

“Oh?”

“She experimented on me and my siblings. She wanted us to become superheroes,” he said. His voice held much more confidence than anything he’d said so far, but his expression remained unchanged. It was because he kept words void of emotion.

“I see.” Yes, you did see. You had anticipated the topic of his mother coming up if you didn’t ask him about it first in future sessions. Dr Krill was listed in his files as a scientist at S.T.A.R. Labs, and having six children whom lived on site with her. CPC had been called a few times, rebuffed every time by various means other than being convinced nothing was wrong. The whole thing was fishy, especially after the untimely deaths of three of Dr. Krill’s children. The whereabouts of the other Krill children were unknown. All investigations into S.T.A.R. Labs had been terminated by higher powers, even after Abner’s arrest and psychological evaluation.

Abner continues, to your surprise. “I pictured Starro as my mother.”

“You did?”

“It makes it easier, when I convince myself that my enemy is her. I don't like killing.”

You pick up your pen and tap your lip, looking down at the way he was fidgeting his feet. “Did you regret killing your mother”

Abner’s knee stopped bouncing. “No.”

“Do you regret killing the other scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs? The--”

Abner grimaced and brought his hands to his head, tugging on fistfulls of black hair. “I-I didn’t mean--I-I--”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to answer that today,” you placate with a soft tone, putting down your pen, fingers rubbing along the edge of your clipboard. After a moment of heated silence, you set your things down on the desk and stand up. This makes your patient crumble in on himself, trying to hunch low enough to shield some blow. You smile sadly where he can’t see. “Abner, do you see my poster here? With all the emotions?”

He looks back up, glancing from you to said poster. His attention is answer enough.

“Whatever you feel in this room is valid to you and to me. Not now, but in the future I’d like for you to give me short but detailed descriptions to how you feel on certain things. It's okay to say something you think is taboo or unorthodox. This room doesn't have ears or a head to judge. Do you think you can do that?”

The couch makes no sound as he moves to better see the circle chart of words. Timidly, he nods.

“Great,” you smile sadly and sit back down. “Let’s get back to that later. Today, I’d like to talk about something other than your mother.”

Abner tilts his head. You must be doing something to exceed his expectations, because now he’s looking at you and not at you. “The Corto Maltese mission?”

“No. I want to know about you. I want to talk about Abner Krill. Who are you?”

His blank stare makes your heartache a little for him.

The following silence, where all you can hear is his ragged breath, the whirl of the monitor, and the soft mist of the incense humidifier, is thick. You can cut it with the tip of your pen. The sound of his voice as he speaks is almost staggering. "I am... I am my mother's son."

“No."

He flinches.

"Your mother does not define you. What you think about your mother and how you feel about her should not determine your sense of self or your future. You liked defeating that monster, right?”

Abner nods.

“You’re a superhero because you took action, not because she moved your hand. What you say here today, and any day, should be the same. Do you think you can do this for me?”

“I don’t understand…”

“I want to know the real Abner,” you smile. “Not Dr. Krill’s son.”

He still can’t make eye contact. The fidgeting starts back up. “But, what I am is because of her.”

“Not unless you choose otherwise. Starting today, you and I are going to help define Abner Krill. First, you are not your mother’s son.”

“But I am?”

“No. You are not your mother’s son. You’re Abner Krill, superhero. What does Abner Krill the superhero like to do?”

Understanding slowly started to dawn on him, visible in his eyes as he lifted his slanted brows. Recovering from trauma was no walk in the park, but the two of you had to start somewhere. Rooney over-fixated on Abner’s fixation on his mother and the abuse, and after years of obsessing over it to “fix” him, it seemed to become all Abner could think about. No one had really given him proper trauma recovery therapy, or helped to treat his PTSD. You wanted him to take the first step into self-evolution. No one could do it for him. You want him to define himself other than his mother’s son. Seeing himself as a superhero was perhaps the start of it.

“I-I don’t know,” he frowned. “I like to read…”

“That’s great!” Your enthusiasm startles him. “What sort of things do you like to read?”

“Well… Ah, I-I uh... I like the classics….”

The rest of your session with Abner was mostly casual. The safe topics you steered him to visibly made the man relax. He spoke about the fictional worlds he enjoyed immersing himself in. He liked the classics because they were “soft”. Sweet romances where the only real worries were who’s going to the ball. He didn't like tragedies or novels about war or great violence. With some coaxing, he opens up to talk about his favorite foods, animals, celebrities, songs-- You ask about his (non-virus related) talents or any hobbies he might’ve picked up at the prison or since he’s been out. Steering him away from the topic of his mother confused him in the beginning, leading you to assume he had anticipated mostly speaking about her. He’d been prepared like he might prepare to go into battle.

You know he won’t be able to just brush his mother aside; his virus was because of Dr. Krill. He blamed his 20+ years of incarceration at Belle Reve on his mother’s experimentations. He blamed himself. He hated her. He hated himself. Feared her. Feared himself. It was an inner wound that would never heal, you know this without a doubt, but you hope with time it becomes easier to manage as he takes control and independence of his new life.

“Did you ever go to school, Abner?”

The phantom smile on his face falls, but you haven’t lost him as he turns to you. Looks at your shoulder. “No. We--my siblings and I--were… homeschooled.”

“Right. Well, you at least know what homework is?”

“Yes. Of course. Am--Do you want me to--?”

With a hand gesture you hope is placating, you smile and gently cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not assigning you an essay to write or a month-long project to present. I’m not that cruel,” you chuckle. “But I am going to push you a little. Can you try that for me?”

He looks as if you’ve asked him to consider sacrificing his firstborn. Thankfully, he nods as he plucks a loose string off his knee.

“I want to see you biweekly, so schedule with Patrica upfront. Maybe this Friday or Saturday?”

“I-I can do that, yes ma’am.”

"Now, it's your choice to come back or not but it would make me really happy if you did."

His back straightens. "Yes. I'll be here."

“Beautiful, Abner. Beautiful. Sometime this week I’d like you to do something you normally wouldn't do. Go on a hike, join a gym, take a class on cooking or arts and crafts. It can be simply looking up a food recipe you’ve never tried before and making it. Tell me about your experience. If you’re around strangers, how is your relationship with them? If you see something new, how does it make you feel? This isn’t an order, Abner, just a… strong suggestion, mm? All I’m asking is for you to do something new and spontaneous. It can be at home or outside. Your choice.”

Abner licked his lips. It had taken a great deal of effort to convince him to come here at all today. Today is the first time speaking to him, but you’ve had his file for a few days now. You’re a little grateful for that. There was a lot to read. However, it took outside forces such as one Amanda Waller and fellow ex-prisoner teammates to get him to come here. You suspect someone dropped him off if he didn’t take a cab himself. He had no driver's license.

“Ah… Okay. Um, yes miss. Ma'am. Doctor! Ah--”

“You can call me by my name,” you reassure, tilting your head to him. “This is a safe space for you and I. We may be doctor and patient outside that door, but here, we can be as familiar with each other as we'd like. Like old friends.”

He turned to you with a look that sent a thunderbolt of sensation down your spine. Surprise, awe. A silent question gleamed in his puppy-dog eyes. He doesn't respond, brows raised high as he just stares at you.

You cover for his lapse. “I’ll see you in a few days. It was wonderful to finally meet you, Abner,” you say, looking at him without pretenses to hopefully show your honesty. He had an incredible gift that could help save a lot of people, and from what you've learned from recent character evaluations on him he had the makings of a fine superhero. First thing first, he needed to adjust to civilian life after years of being locked up, and years of having nothing but unresolved trauma. All the while, you hold back a rueful smile at his demeanor. You won't say it aloud of course, but he was so cute. Idly, you wonder about his sexuality- but you can ask that another day. For now you wanted him to be a little more daring to try new things and focus on something other than his mother.

You stand up and shake his hand. His grip is a little looser this time, lingering longer, but he moves away quickly, gathers his shoes, and you see him out. His scurrying reminds you of a startled elk. Large yet quick, stumbling over his long legs. Running from you as if you held a rifle instead of a purple glitter clipboard.

It was hard to believe this man had committed mass homicide.

[2-cute-4-school]

𝓠𝓾𝓲𝓭𝓭𝓲𝓽𝓬𝓱 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮

Group : NCT

Pairing : Griffyndor! Mark Lee x gn! Reader 

Genre : hp au, rivals to lovers, light angst to absolute fluff

Word count : 4.4K words   |    M.list

Warnings : injury, swearing

Summary :  ‘He had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.’

a/n: thank you for 1000 followers you absolute cuties!! sending lots of smooches and snuggles your way!!

“Aren’t you going to ask how the coolest champion is feeling about tomorrow’s match?”

You watched Donghyuck, your fellow housemate and best friend since you first stepped onto the Hogwarts train, expectantly. He spared you a quick glance as he plopped down beside you on the couch in your shared common room, too busy to munch on his chocolate frog to give you any further attention. 

“I’ve already asked Mark.”

You would like to be able to say you were surprised at his answer, but his teasing character has become an usual by now

It still baffled you how you managed to even tolerate each other, much less get to share a bond as deep as the one you developed along the years. You two had next to nothing in common other than your cunning wit. While Donghyuck delved deep into his love for astronomy, which you despised with a burning fervor, you dedicated your time to Quidditch entirely. 

You loved the sport dearly, it offered you that adrenaline rush you were born to chase, that quickened heartbeat as you rushed to catch the Golden Snitch. You spent every spare moment you could find in your hectic schedule on the pitch with the wind threading through strands of your hair and your hands clenched so tightly onto your broomstick your knuckles turn white. And you adored every second of that. But what you definitely didn’t adore was Mark Lee.

“And worst best friend award goes to surprise surprise Lee Donghyuck!”

He shrugged unimpressed by your weak attack and focuses back on his damned frog.

Mark Lee. Unfortunately for your sanity, you had to see him almost as often as you decided to practice on your own. If there was one thing you shared with him and you respected him for was his own commitment to Quidditch. More often that not, you’d have to share the pitch with him in your spare time, taunting each other for the entire period of time you spent practicing. He was the beloved Seeker of Gryffindor, their pride and joy and your rival ever since you were both accepted in your respective teams.

“So what’s your score against him?”

“It’s a draw.”

Yes, you were that petty. You and Mark kept the score on how many times you defeated each other in matches. It didn’t actually matter which team actually won, the only thing that mattered for your childish competition was who managed to catch the Golden Snitch.

“That’s why you’re so tense?”

“Bingo, smartpants.”

“What even is the big deal about your little game? It’s not like either of you actually gets something out of this.”

“I gain the right to stick my win in his face and vice versa.”

Teasing between you and Mark often stretched your patience to its maximum and ended up in one of you snapping like a chord under pressure. Donghyuck shivered as he remembered the final match of your fourth year when your house lost against Gryffindor due to Mark catching the Snitch before you. He could vividly remember the blood rushing through his veins in fear at the sight of you battling Mark shoulder to shoulder at a dangerous speed, arm stretched out so far he believed you’d topple over at any moment.

He doesn’t want a repeat of the miserable image of you he saw at the time, a defeated you, slumped on the bench in your changing room, head lowered in ultimate shame and disappointment as bitter tears rolled off your face, splashing against the floor as Donghyuck watched worriedly through the half opened door. Mark had really done a number on you that day.

“You have to win, Y/N.”

“Why the sudden change of heart, wasn’t our competition meaningless for your highness?”

“I don’t give a frog’s toe about your competition, but I want to spend time time with you this summer. And not just to watch you practice until you drop.”

You scoffed. You knew that he was referring to the summer after your horrifying defeat against Mark. Donghyuck could barely get a hold of you since you spent all day on your broom, tiring yourself out to your limit.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on losing.”

~

“Already wetting your pants, Y/L/N?”

You didn’t have to turn around to put a face to the taunting voice behind you.

“I don’t know, Lee, should I? You must know since you have more experience than me.”

Mark’s face scrunched up at the reminder of his first year when he lost control of his broom and he quite literally saw his life flash before his eyes. Not very Gryffindor from his part.

“Whatever, we both know how this is about to end. Save your cheap defense until after this final. My team will win this year’s tournament and I’ll beat you individually too.”

The reminder of the stakes of this match weren’t soothing your nerves at all, especially mere hours before you were facing Mark on the pitch. You curled your fists and kept a straight face, not daring to show him any weakness from your side.

“Shove that pointless confidence up your ass until you prove you’re worthy of it, Lee.”

“Oh so fourth year isn’t enough proof?”

The corner of your lips twitched and your eyes narrowed. zeroing on his tense featured in a chilling glare.

“You said matches don’t count, didn’t you? You were the one insisting that you didn’t consider anything a victory other than catching the Snitch before me. And in that aspect, last I verified, we’re equals.”

His lips moved soundlessly, trying to come up with a retort, but you didn’t spare him enough time to come up with anything, turning on your heels and marching away to meet Donghyuck.

“You’ll see, Y/L/N, you’ll never be my equal.”

His voice followed you tauntingly through the busy corridors, your rushed footsteps taking you anywhere but close to the only person who could make your blood boil.

~

It took three pep talks and four ‘friendly’ attacks of your personal space from Donghyuck to make you gather your spirits and stop the tremors shaking up your entire body. He walked you to the changing room’s door, patting you roughly on the back one last time

“Give your best, I’ll be watching from the stands. I trust that you won’t let me get bored. Also, remember that if you lose you’re sleeping on the mat in front of the entrance in our common room.”

And with that he skipped away, hurried to find a good spot in the stands that were already starting to fill up with students. You sigh, used to his weird way of encouraging you and stepped inside the room, greeting Jungwoo, your captain and your fellow teammates, starting to change into your Quidditch uniform.

As soon as you set foot on the familiar pitch, your eyes met Mark’s who stood straight and proud side by side with his own captain sporting his Gryffindor red cape and holding his broom, the newest Nimbus model.

You Keeper was talking your ear off about the ‘amazingly efficient’ polish he found, but you couldn’t seem to rip your gaze away from Mark who in turn seemed to burn through you with his gaze. He threw you a smirk as if provoking you to lose your cool. But you decided you wouldn’t allow him the satisfaction.

The stands were already roaring to life. Any match between you and Mark was very sought after by everyone in your school due to the intensity it held each time. Despite the already loudness surrounding the pitch, one high pitched screech couldn’t help but catch your attention.

“KICK SOME ASS, Y/N! Or the mat is waiting for you!”

Count on Donghyuck to be the embarrassing mom rooting for you at her child’s every sport event. You shoot him a warning look to which he only responded with an over dramatic wink and an even louder ’whoop’. You could only sigh, appreciating his support despite your lack of reaction to it.

“I’ll kick your ass, Lee Donghyuck.”

You muttered, trying to stop the smile forming on your lips. A snort came from the side, making your head snap in its direction.

“Try your best, Y/LN, too bad you’ll still disappoint lover boy over there.”

“Jealous, Lee?”

“You wish.”

Madam Hooch interrupted your banter with a shrill whistle, stepping in between the two teams while holding the Quaffle.

“Alright, boys and girls, mount your brooms.”

Within seconds all players were high in the air, adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heated gaze locked with Mark’s. It became kind of a tradition between the two of you, intense stare downs before the official start of the game. Madam Hooch’s voice which carried the same words every time sounded far away as she bent down, ready to throw the Quaffle.

“Alright, I want a clean and fair game, hear me? Good luck and may the best win.”

The long deafening whistle signified the start of the match and Chasers whizzed past you, speeding towards the Quaffle. You and Mark broke eye contact, each of you getting immersed in the game, your sole focus being on catching sight of the Golden Snitch.

The weather worsened as the game progressed, the unpredictable May weather acting up. The clouds darkened, completely shutting out any ray of sunshine trying to sneak past them, a thickening fog suffocating the school grounds. Slowly but surely, what started as a few scattered rain drops soon turned into a full blown storm, a cold shower falling atop of you, the harsh wind whipping your capes back and forth. The stands were barely visible, the cheers from below inaudible over the wind and the players’ yells.

If it wasn’t hard enough already to spot the small, golden ball, now it seemed close to impossible. You could make out Mark’s silhouette flying around, but you didn’t linger any longer on him, focused on catching sight of the Snitch. Bludgers were flying everywhere, the Beaters’ efficiency decreasing because of the lack of visibility, another worry to add to the list.

Gryffindor was in the lead with 20 points, the score remaining tight as the match dragged on and on. You had already been playing for a while, your uniforms were already soaked and your skin paling from the biting cold of the unforgiving rain, but the conditions only spurred you further. You had to catch the Snitch.

Just as your patience was running thin, you caught sight of a fast-moving golden spot, hovering on the sidelines. Without a second thought, you sped towards it, your surroundings blurring as your eyes focused solely on the already moving Snitch. Mark noticed your forceful actions immediately, whizzing past the others players and nearing you.

“And Y/L/N seems to have finally spotted the Golden Snitch! Both Seekers are bolting after it, I can barely keep track of them!”

The crowd exploded, cheering louder than ever, but you couldn’t hear anything, pushing yourself to the limit as Mark caught up to you and you battled side by side once again. The Snitch seemed to be angrier than ever, jerking furiously at every corner, but you didn’t let yourself be caught by surprise, keeping up with it.

Until it started speeding in a straight line, stopping its irregular twists and turns and you knew that was your chance. You flew at top speed, stretching your hand in front of you so much that your muscles almost protested and Mark followed suit. You were shoulder to shoulder with him, subtly knocking into each other in an attempt to make the other lose their balance.

“Move! It’s mine!”

His hoarse voice yelled right by your year, only making you grit your teeth harder.

“Fuck off, Lee!”

Your fingertips were a breath away from the Snitch, Mark’s arm pressing into yours, the cold wind biting at your cheeks. Desperately, you shifted your weight from your bottom to the hand clutching your broomstick, leaning forward on your arm and before Mark could react, you lurched forward slightly, encasing the running object in the palm of your hand, clutching it so tightly it left marks into the skin, but you didn’t care. 

You did it. You caught the Golden Snitch.

“Y/N!”

Before you could regain your stance, a Bludger knocked into your broom forcefully. With your already unsteady grip on the broomstick, you toppled over in an instant, the broom slipping from under you, but you didn’t dare unclench the fingers trapping the Snitch in your hand.

Mark’s desperate yell seemed to be the only sound echoing in your ears as you plummeted. The last thing you saw before you knocked loudly into the ground with a sickening crack were Mark’s distressed features, a hand stretched to its full extent in front of him as he rushed to get a hold of you, your own outstretched fingers slipping right past his.

~

Surprisingly, as soon as you managed to crack your eyes open you weren’t hit with a blinding light. It still seemed to take a great effort to keep them open for longer than a second, your hand twitching in an attempt to bring it to cover your sensitive eyes, but being stopped by a weight forcing it down. 

“Y/N?”

You groaned, scrunching up your face as soreness hit your body full force at your attempt to move.

“Merlin, Y/N, can you open your eyes?”

You could recognize Donghyuck’s voice anywhere, but the almost desperate tone he used was quite foreign to you.

“Come on, babe, open your eyes. Madam Pomfrey! ”

You realized the weight on your hand were actually his fingers which now squeezed yours encouragingly as his other hand came up to smooth strands of your hair away from your face. You clenched your teeth, forcing an eye open.

“Stop fucking yelling, punk.”

At your annoyed retort, he let out a relieved sigh, wrapping his arms gently around you while trying not to jostle you too much.

“Thank Merlin, you’re back.”

After Madam Pomfrey checked on you and updated you on your injuries which were a bit more serious than you expected, she left you with Donghyuck once again. He leaned back in his chair, a lot more relaxed than in the past days he’s had to spend by your bedside. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“The match. We won the match right?”

Donghyuck snorted as your first question was about Quidditch instead of your own health, but it didn’t even surprise him anymore.

“Yes, you crazy hag, you won.”

“Yes! We did it! We won!”

You’ve never felt more relieved in your entire life. You finally proved to yourself that all the time and work you’ve put into Quidditch wasn’t for nothing. And if this was the elevation you’d feel after winning cups, you were ready to spend the rest of your youth chasing the Snitch.

“You should eat some chocolate, gain your energy back.”

Now that he mentioned it, you finally focused on your nightstand that overflowed with sweets. You grabbed the closest one, a chocolate frog, not hesitating to stuff it all in your mouth and collect the card inside. Another Nicolas Flamel, you already had two of those. 

“Those are a lot.”

“Tell me about it. Don’t worry, I’ll help you finish them.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“Hyuck, tell me, did Jungwoo cry?”

“Should’ve seen him, like a baby. I’m pretty sure he filled half of that cup with snot-”

“Ewww, I didn’t need all the gross details. Ah, I’m sorry for missing that. And Lee’s face, I bet I’d sleep like a baby for the next 10 years if I had the chance to see that.“

Donghyuck’s lips were suddenly pulled into a smirk, eyes glinting with a dangerous mischief.

“You should see one of your beaters, damn nice nose Mark delivered.”

Your munching slowed down, gulping down the sweetness loudly.

“What do you mean? Did that petty git start a fight?”

“Wouldn’t say it was out of pettiness actually.”

Mark was the first to land beside your crumpled figure, dismounting his broom faster than ever and crouching hurriedly before you. His hand ghosted over your cold cheek, too scared to touch you in case he did more harm than good. His shaking pupils fixated on you, running a hundred miles per hour over your face, hoping, praying that you’d open your eyes and celebrate in his face.

“Hey, wake up, don’t play games on the pitch, you already won! Y/L/N!”

Mark knew deep inside that you had no games left to play after a fall like that, but it was his first time seeing you so small, so hurt, so defeated despite the shining Golden Snitch still clutched loosely in your limp hand. It scared him.

“Bloody hell, wake up! Madam Hooch! Help! Anyone, help!”

His head snapped around trying to catch sight of anyone coming to your aid, eyes scanning through the fog crazily. The rain seemed to fall faster and faster, the chill settling deep into your bones. Exhausted, Mark lowered his head in defeat, his forehead gently leaning on yours, his nose nudging against yours. One of his hands still touched your cheek, lightly caressing it, thumb running over the apple of your cheek as his other hand curled into a fist against the ground.

Jungwoo landed next, almost tripping over his broom as he rushed over to you and knelt next to you, opting to ignore the position Mark was in and focus on your well being. Mark’s head didn’t even turn as he spoke lowly.

“Do something for Merlin’s sake. Get Madam Hooch, or Pomfrey! Anyone dammit, just to something!”

Mark raised himself at the lack of response from Jungwoo who seemed rotten to his spot, freezing at the sight of you.

“Are you deaf?! Fucking help!”

That seemed to snap Jungwoo out of his frozen state as he jumped to his feet, sprinting towards the stand where teachers usually stayed during matches. One by one, your teams landed and gathered near you as Mark’s yells of help guided them to you.

“Merlin, that doesn’t look good.”

Mark’s burning gaze settled on your beater who stood a few meters away, leaning on his broom.

“It would have looked better if you did your part right.”

The beater rolled his eyes at Mark’s harsh remark.

“Relax, man, I just wasn’t playing attention for a moment.”

“And you think that’s a proper excuse?!”

Mark was fired up by now, lifting himself to his feet as one of your Chasers, a year younger than you crouched by your side, gripping your hand. He sauntered over, coming face to face with the beater who didn’t seem that interested.

“I’m just saying it’s not my fault their own incompetence landed themselves in the hospital wing, I’m not pulling anyone’s wight al-”

He didn’t get to finish his mocking words as Mark’s fist met his nose with a loud crunch, Mark’s powerful swing sending him to the ground as blood started dripping from his nose steadily.

“Don’t you ever talk about Y/N like that. Not ever again. If I hear one bad word about them coming out of your worthless mouth, I’ll hex you into next year. You’ll never be half of the player Y/N already is, remember your place, asshole.”

Madam Hooch was already tending to you by the time Mark turned back to you, deeming it safe enough for you to be moved to the hospital wing. Donghyuck, who sprinted out of the stand as soon as he heard your name coming out of Jungwoo’s mouth, held your head in his lap, smoothed down your hair, pushing away wet strands that covered your eyes.

Mark strode over to you, taking off his cap and laying it over your body as he slotted an arm under your legs, his other coming around your back. He lifted your body, cradling you against his chest as Donghyuck also stood up to fix your position in Mark’s arms into a more comfortable one.

“Off to the hospital wing,now. Quick, quick, quick!”

Mark didn’t waste another moment before he hurried inside the castle with you in his hold and Donghyuck quick on his heels.

“Mark Lee stood up for me? The same Mark Lee who hates my guts since we first got in our Quidditch teams?”

“Do you know another Mark Lee? Maybe he didn’t hate you that much after all, or…not at all. After all, all these chocolate frogs are from him, said something about seeing you exchange some cards with his Griffyndor friend in class or something.”

“He visited?”

“We wouldn’t be able to get rid of him sometimes. He opened up to me once when we met outside the door trying to sneak in one night.”

“Why were you even sneaking in?”

“I was bored, okay? I had no one to tire me out during the day.”

“Hey!”

“Anyway, he said he had nightmares of you slipping right past his fingers and him failing to catch you. He relives that moment.”

“Did it really affect him that much? Accidents happen all the time.”

“Not to you, Y/N.”

“Maybe, but I’m just another player from the opposite team., right? …Do you think he…?”

Donghyuck brought a hand up to his head, massaging his temples as he sighed with annoyance.

“You’re too dense.”

“How could I have known? ”

“Look, just talk to him as soon as you can. That boy needs to finally sleep properly, even my grandma’s bag has a lighter color than his eye bags.”

You just nodded, a bit skeptic.

You were discharged on that same day. Jungwoo almost cried again when you met in the common room, hugging you tightly, praising and scolding you at the same time with a brotherly smile.

You first saw Mark Lee in the halfway, after your Potions class. He was sitting on the ledge of a large window, staring seemingly into space. Donghyuck’s words echo in your mind as you decide to approach him and hop onto the space beside him, settling comfortable against the window behind you.

“Woah, Lee, Donghyuck was right, you could really use some concealer.”

Mark jostled as if he only noticed you now. His wide doe eyes racked over your smiling face and he seemed to panic internally.

“Whe-When did you get here? Why are you out of bed?”

“Because I was discharged?”

“What? Since when?”

“Earlier today.”

“Oh…”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, eyes running wild everywhere but in your direction. You chuckled.

“It’s okay, I already know how much the almighty Mark Lee worried over poor little me.”

Mark scoffed, his embarrassed behavior vanishing. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I see that hit to your head didn’t help with your sharp tongue, disappointingly.”

He swiftly moved away, starting to walk away from you until your hand clasped around his wrist, stopping him mid step.

“Wait, I just… I wanted to thank you.”

Mark seemed confused now, turning back to you with furrowed eyebrows.

“Thank me? What for?”

“Standing up for me and uh, you know, taking care of me.”

Mark’s face darkened at the memory of your beater.

“That git was just asking for it and I barely did anything.”

“Then at least let me repay you for the chocolate frogs you brought me.”

Now he seemed to choke on a confused ‘huh?’ with a bewildered expression that just melted your otherwise cocky demeanor.

“W-what? How-”

Mark’s words died in his throat as you slotted your lips against his in a teasing kiss, your hand holding the nape of his next affectionately and pulling him closer you. Mark took a few moments to realize it was actually happening in reality, not just an illusion from the lack of sleep. His hands came up to your waist, wrapping you in his embrace and pulling you against him impossibly closer. Years of pushed down passion and longing were exchanged in that moment, dizzying both of you.

As you pulled away from each other for air, Mark could taste the faint sweetness of chocolate on his lips. He smiled and his whole rival image turned into a lovesick teenage boy with a smile brighter than the sun. He laughed quietly, thumbs caressing your sides gently.

“I see you enjoyed your chocolate.”

You leaned more into him, pulling his face so close to yours that your noses brushed against each other’s, your ravished breath fanning across his lips as you whispered.

“I did. I’m glad I’m so interesting to you that you observe me in class enough to know that I collect chocolate frogs cards.”

You expected a blush to paint his cheeks red, an elbow in your side or at least an annoyed huff but you got none of that. Instead, one of Mark’s hands came up to cradle your cheek as he stared deep into your eyes with an unreadable look.

“Excuse me but it’s hard not to look when I have the prettiest person I’ve ever seen who also happens to be my crush since 3rd year.”

Your eyes widened, searching his for any hint that he may be just lying or teasing you. But all you could find was pure, unadulterated fondness, a withheld fire burning low in his eyes. He leaned down, lips brushing against the shell of your ear and sending goosebumps across the expanse of your skin.

“It’s been so hard not to just pull you aside and snog you senseless, especially in your Quidditch uniform.”

You decided to play along. You brought your fingers to his heated neck, running them faintly over his skin and you smirked seeing him shiver at your touch.

“Having a kink for uniforms, Lee?”

Mark screeched lowly, pulling away from you as if burned. He smoothed down his robes, fixating you with a glare that made you laugh.

“Y/N, I’m serious, though. I like you, I really really lo-….like you.”

You noticed his stutter, but it only made your smile widen as you stretched out a hand to intertwine his fingers with yours and pull him along down the corridor.

“Hm, I’ll need some more proof of that.”

Mark squeezed your hand in response, chuckling at you sweetly. He leaned over, pressing a feather like kiss to your temple.

“Don’t worry, you’re nowhere done with your payment back to me. And I only accept it in the form of kisses and cuddles.”

You smiled at each other, your hearts finally settling satisfied in your chests after years of internal turmoil that finally burned out.

“That can be arranged easily.”