#no it’s not just because I didn’t want to draw the other one or a reference to earlier art trends

[lightseoul]

a/n. i really don't know where i'm going with this, y'all. but getting to role-play as a therapist and explore bakugou's psyche has been lots of fun, so bear with me. please let me know what you think and/or would want to see! maybe that'll give me an idea lol. (1.1k)

navigation. part 1, part 2, (you are here)

“n-no.”

at that, the woman’s eyebrows shoot up, disappearing underneath her fringe. “no?”

“you heard me,” bakugou spits instinctively, immediately regretting how hostile that sounded not even a second later. “i mean, no, i didn’t.”

his therapist, apparently unfazed by his show of aggression—she must’ve gotten used to it by now, although he still feels bad when he gets testy—only jots something down in her clipboard before looking back up at him, an inexplicable expression etched across her features.

“do you have any ideas, then, why, for the first time in seemingly forever, you’re fixating on a particular social encounter?”

bakugou barely manages to bite back a scowl.

he hates it—this part. the part where his psychologist obviously has theories as to why he’s acting a certain way or how he’s actually feeling but chooses to ask him instead, in an attempt to draw it out of him.

as if talking about difficult shit in the first place isn’t already painful enough.

and isn’t that what he’s paying her to do? give him answers? why’d he have to be the one to wrack his brain for uncomfortable answers to uncomfortable questions?

“do you?” he then challenges, emboldened by that train of thought just now.

“yes,” she responds truthfully and without missing a beat it somewhat surprises him. “but as i’ve explained to you before, i think it’ll be helpful for you if we try a more active approach on your end so that any insights gleaned from our discussions become more personalized and stick with you longer.”

well, then. fuck.

the lady’s got a point.

“so,” she continues when he doesn’t reply, annoyingly aware her little spiel got to him, “any ideas? working hypotheses?”

“uh,” he starts begrudgingly, eyes roving over the bookshelves lining the room’s walls as he struggles to come up with another angle. then it dawns on him, and he looks directly at the woman. “i didn’t expect to see someone in here, and when i did, it caught me off guard.”

“that may be because most of our clients opt for virtual consultations rather than face-to-face ones.”

“yeah,” he piles on quickly, admittedly thankful for the validation, and for the fact. the absolute last thing he needs is to bump into some extras before and after therapy. “that must be why.”

“but how does that explain your, and i quote, ‘dumb as shit reaction’?”

bakugou instantly feels himself flame. he clears his throat, “i told you, didn’t i? it caught me off guard. how the fuck did you expect me to react?”

that must’ve been a reasonable point, thank the fuck, because the woman pauses in thought before nodding slowly. “i suppose you’re right.”

he narrowly bites back an of course, i am.

but then she’s spouting off again.

“although it’s interesting to me how your immediate reaction was to say hi, when that’s not really…how should i say, your style, based on our prior sessions and your personality test results.”

a pause.

bakugou scrambles for a bulletproof rebuttal. he comes up short.

the lady cocks her head to the side, curious. “how often would you say you mull over social blunders?”

never, he thinks to himself. because they never happen.

“i figured as much,” comes her unexpected reply, and only then does it dawn on him that he said the last bit out loud.

“can we talk about something else?” he finds himself suddenly asking, totally over this entire conversation. he can worry about being a loser and pathetically begging for an out some other time. right now, he just needs a break.

“actually, you’re in luck,” she checks her smartwatch, “the session’s just about to end.”

at that, his shoulders almost instantly sag in relief, which makes the woman laugh. he shoots her a half-hearted glare.

they spend the next few minutes summarizing what has been discussed, as well as the arrangements for the following weeks, with bakugou eventually throwing his bag over his shoulders and bidding her a mumbled goodbye. he tosses her a nod over his shoulder as he crosses the threshold of her office, mind already drifting to what he’s going to cook himself for dinner.

and that, for a typical session, he’s walking out relatively unscathed.

but then he does the stupid thing of looking up from where he was studying his trainers when a door creaks open, and he freezes.

because standing a few feet away from him, right beside the entrance to the restroom, is you, equally frozen.

he doesn’t know how much time passes with him just staring at you like a motherfucking idiot, and you, strangely enough, peering at him back, but it’s you who eventually takes a hammer to the silence.

“h-hi,” you offer, voice soft and quiet, just like how he vaguely remembers it from two weeks ago.

“hey,” comes his gruff reply, which would’ve been immediately followed by a wince at how rough his tone was just now had he not stopped himself in the nick of time.

at least he didn’t stutter.

“…b-bakugou, right?” you ask after a moment of neither of you saying anything, confirming his earlier suspicions.

“right.”

you nod, a polite yet somehow stilted smile on your face, and suddenly he’s mentally slapping himself. since when was he fucking bound to one-word sentences?

he decides then and there that this shit won’t do.

in an attempt to convince himself that no, this is just a weird outlier of an encounter for him, and that no, he’s not a fucking idiot like dunce face, and that yes, he is and is being perfectly fucking normal, he resolves to ask you for your name.

and he was just about to do that—he swears he was—when someone from the other side of the door calls out a name, and you whip to face their direction, breaking eye contact.

“yes, doc!” you holler back, and he watches you as you hesitate in place for a second, before turning to face him with an awkward smile.

“nice meeting you, bakugou-san.”

and then you’re off and shutting the door behind you.

he stands there for what feels like a few minutes, just blinking at the door in front of him, what must be your name echoing—again and again—up to the far recesses of his mind.

then: fuck.

he may or may not have just lied to his therapist.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra @qyuin | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[doodledrawsthings]

you. Oh my god, you. (Positive)

listen. Before I had internet access, all I had was 1 hour of allotted browser time, bing image search, and a single dantdm play through of a hat in time that never got finished. I googled fanart and got pretty much nothing, I googled fancomics and got pretty much nothing, but you know what I did end up finding?

your art.

from ages 11-14, my goal in life, in art, was your art. I can’t tell you how much I loved finding random screenshots of your posts, because I was always just so impressed by how clean and consistent your sketches are, how the characters always stay on model, the shape language, how you could somehow sketch a character in like 20 lines when it took me 50 to draw sans in my little spiral notebook— like! Holy shit! For years I have looked up to your art! There’s still a photos folder on my dads old huge-ass 12 inch work iPad labeled “holy crap” and filled with your art. Because it inspired me so much. It’s become an undeniable part of my artstyle, now — I still have fanart I drew way back in the day of Hattie and the rest, I didn’t even know anyone’s names because I couldn’t play the game, but you’re the reason I eventually did play the game. Your coffee shop au and different versions of the prince— one of those ieterations inspired the main character of my novel! Well, novel that I tried to write, I was 13 so it was eh, but I tried!!

I’m submitting this on-anon because I don’t want to out my age on the wide internet (I like my privacy) but. Your art has really meant a lot to me. It’s the reason I played hollow knight, and it’s the reason I kept trying to develop an art style I was happy with. You’re the reason I started scribbling comics in my notebooks. Being 13-14 was pretty much the worst two years of my life, but I had Bing image search and the occasional glimpse of your signature, and I’d be so happy every time I found a new (if crusty) three-times screenshotted jpg. You literally introduced me to the concept of polyamory and nonbinary-ness with the coffee shop au. I had no other access to that in my household, and. Yeah. It meant a lot to me.

Anyway. I’m so glad I’ve finally tracked you down (in the most non-ominous way possible) and I’m so glad you’re still active— Please never stop making art. Your art is incredible, and amazing, and also you never know who’s out there on Bing image search. Thank you for creating for as long as you have. You’re pretty much the reason I’m shooting for an art degree (Wish me luck!) so just…Thank you.

(Also I had no idea you were a professional storyboarder, which is insane because that’s what I want to be when I’m through college. Hey, maybe I’ll end up storyboarding a remake of something you’ve storyboarded! hehehe)

Hi anon!

So right off the bat, I gotta tell you that this message made me start bawling when I woke up and saw it. Like I had a full-on cry session while reading your message and lying in bed for almost an hour. I am crying as I am typing this response, on my phone, still in bed. It’s 11am and i woke up at 9. So I hope it turns out coherent.

The last two years have been. weird. I say that a lot because I wanna say “rough” but that still doesn’t feel quite right. I’m almost hyper-aware that there are so many people that have it worse than me rn, so it feels hard to even acknowledge when I’m going through anything, myself, sometimes- REGARDLESS, it’s been kind of an all-time low for my mental health. There was a point within in the last year where I just HATED drawing. I struggled to bring myself to work, I struggled to bring myself to even draw for fun. It felt like I was posting just to post, trying to keep people aware of my existence and it almost felt physically painful to force myself to sit down and do it, sometimes.

I’m getting better now, I think, but. Yknow.

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “oh I can make money off this,” “oh I can get attention off this,” “oh I can prove myself a functional person in society with this,” of it all. I forget why I actually do this, sometimes, or if I even enjoy it. And then I get messages like yours, about the kid with limited internet access looking for A Hat in Time fan art on Bing image search, and I get taken back to when I was a kid scrolling Google images and deviantart for the same thing.

I don’t mean to like. Foster some kind of parasocial thing with you or any one of my followers. There’s a reason I’m saying all this, I hope it ties up in the end.

We don’t know each other. I’m not some mysterious legendary artist, or whatever. I’m a person who gets burnt out, and jealous, and insecure. I need inspiration to function, just like you, and when I don’t have it, I get art block. But I also really like to draw fictional characters kissing and hanging out. I like coming up with comics and stories and playing out dramatic and funny scenarios in my head like I’m mashing Barbies together. And when other people tell me they enjoy the stuff I put out when I do this, it makes me really, really, really happy.

I think I needed to read your message, probably. With the state of… Everything… Right now, especially recently, I feel like a lot of artists are also struggling with a sense of purpose, pride, and reason as the world makes it harder and harder to even BE an artist, these days. And when I read this message it was like Anton Ego at the end of Ratatouille, I got taken back to when I was a kid looking at my favorite artists and studying their style and striving to be better and better at it over years of my life. Not just because I wanted a job for it or cuz I wanted to be a famous Disney animator or whatever, but because it was fun and I just liked doing it.

Thank you, SO much. I say this in the most genuine and earnest way I possibly can possibly express. I wish you luck on your own path in art and art school. And if you decide that animation industry is your thing, then I wish you the best in that endeavor, as well. I think I will keep making art for a long time.

Peace and love on the planet earth ✌️✌️✌️

[rosy-crow]

I'm actually curious your headcanons for Genesis

YES the beloved drama-lord <3

Headcanon A:  realistic

Genesis grew up feeling like a bit of a pariah amongst the Banora children, as they didn’t understand his interests or his wealthier lifestyle. Angeal was the only one willing to cross over into Genesis’ world to understand him and help him feel okay to open up.

Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious

Genesis CAN actually play those damn flutes that the devs almost had him play in the game lolll. His parents had him take music lessons as a kid and Genesis did not escape the flute sessions skdjd

Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends

Genesis partially idolized Sephiroth because he sensed that the hero possibly understood the lonely feeling of being in a high position of respect and reverence amongst others. Always being looked up at and not understood. This was a result of the previously mentioned social isolation that came with being the landlord’s introverted son amidst a poorer village.

This drove Genesis to want to be Sephiroth’s equal, to see eye-to-eye with him, to draw closer and find solidarity with the hero. But unfortunately, Genesis would never be able to breach the walls of his own insecurity and low self-worth to admit this, masking it all in his fiery rivalry with Sephiroth.

Even worse, he’d never know that Sephiroth felt the exact same way Genesis did and was craving full unity with the fellow warrior, who he admired deeply and wanted to share the plights of social isolation with. Neither of them knew just how much they could have helped each other.

Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.

GENESIS WILL RETURN ONE DAY TO SAVE THE PLANET SOMEHOW SJDHDH

[quibbs126]

So after the last batch of Cyberverse sketches, I tried to do more here with Cyberverse Megatron specifically, since he kind of stuck himself in my brain, at least yesterday

Admittedly I wish I drew more, but by that last corner I just wasn’t sure what to draw. I actually did draw something, yet again trying to draw that one kissing meme thing with him and Optimus, but yet again it didn’t turn out right looking, so you don’t see it

But other than that, while I’m aware my drawings aren’t the best, I do think I’m at least getting the hang of drawing this version of Megatron. I’m aware his face is still off looking, but oh well

My only real thoughts for what to draw with him were “more of body”, “him thinking “oh no that’s hot” at something Optimus is doing”, “season 3 Megs” and “he drink coffee”. And also to attempt lineless

Note on that last thing, at least on the head, it’s not as difficult as I’d thought it’d be. I could probably do it, if I at least knew what I wanted to draw

I don’t really have much to say on the drawings themselves though? There isn’t much going on that I haven’t already said. All I can say is I tried to use screenshots for references more than usual, since I thought it’d help. I did stop at some point, but still

I don’t know how I feel about Cyberverse Megatron. I think he’s really only in my head because I was searching for Cyberverse megop fanfics after finishing the show

But also, he’s sort of your typical Megatron. An asshole, and usually the cause of alliances falling short and me saying “Megatron, you bitch”. Granted he’s not as evil as other Megatrons, at least most of the time, considering he was willing to destroy the AllSpark that one time, but it’s probably also because the Autobots and Decepticons have to team up so often in Seasons 2 and 3

But then there’s Season 3b Megatron, in which he has some adventure across the multiverse and comes back to help his universe, armed with his own Matrix and actually willing to save the day and have peace with Optimus and end the war, even if the planet is split in two. And at least in his initial appearance, he seems like he’s actually become at least a slightly better person

Like on one hand, I like this idea of him becoming better on his own time, and also we can just accept that maybe he’s become actually better since we don’t know what he was up to to cause this. But in the other, I really would have liked to see what he was up to. I guess they didn’t have enough time to show us

But yeah in 3b, he’s still an ass but he isn’t causing too much trouble, and is instead preparing for a worse threat to come, and then dies not as a villain, though he got taken out too quick to be called a hero in this scenario. Kind of disappointed he didn’t really get to do anything when the other Megatron showed up, would have been nice to see

But also I’m told that’s actually what kills him? He actually dies? I guess it is a more powerful version of him, but considering the other things other Megatrons have survived, and also we never really saw him die in the episode itself, considering he made noises of pain after being attacked and we just didn’t see him again after Bee took his Matrix, it feels kind of weak to me

I don’t know, his concepts in 3b are interesting to me

Also random side note, while I wasn’t expecting it, I appreciate his fusion cannon and mace having red lights instead of purple. I’m used to the purple but the red is consistent with the rest of his colors

Also there’s the subject of Cyberverse megop. It doesn’t have TFA’s issue of being strangers, in fact they seem to have known each other for a very long time and there’s no Elita or anything in this universe to be another past option for Optimus. And Megatron does do some bad things in this series, some worse than others, but also it seems like the characters of this show aren’t the most serious about this war, at least not like they are in Prime or something. Apparently every few millennia or so Optimus and Megatron try to have peace talks and negotiate, only for it to inevitably fall apart and things to start up again, and everyone’s just used to this

I think I can ship it, they have divorced energy and both sides are just used to it, including each other. They are in essence, the core values of typical megop I think, except they were actually on decent terms by the end of things, when Megatron dies. Sad that, why’d he have to die? At least make it heroic or something so he can go out with a bang

Yeah I don’t know, thought I should sprinkle in some thoughts on this version of Megatron while I’m here. I don’t have much honestly other than I think he’s fine and neat, and so is this version of the ship

I think I’m done now

[ender1821]

re: shinyduo/gempearl being so not normal about each other after life series. other anon was so right why are they freaky.

pearl is definitely just as at fault imo. gem’s excellent at innuendos and tone of voice (“your red skin is my favorite~”) but pearl’s yes and filter falls apart in front of gem. the pickles a prime example, and the ren stream disaster wedding of course. she’s also very genuine and i love that for her. but that results in crazy lines like the “love you gem. always will. even if you dont want me, ill still be there.” TO STREAM WHEN GEM WASNT EVEN THERE.

and i need to mention the latest stream. Pearl “I only get asked if im gay when you’re in the picture” and how they both have to take a minute of silence to process that flejelejwkej. whose fault is that pearl? whose fault ?? to her credit she seems genuinely confused by the extent of her actions. the most damning evidence for her straightness i fear. rip gem though, she seems to be having fun anyway.

theyre both professionals and follow up in that stream with how the fandom will always play around with them as characters etc etc. good communication, very healthy, good for them. but this post is about why they graduated from shenanigans and innuendos to 2 hours of fanservice and it doesn’t even feel intentional half the time.

as for next life series, i would be shocked if they didn’t keep up this befuddling yuri bit. theyve mentioned seeing all the tierlist maker dream team posts and pearl had to ask her chat “OTHER than gem, who should I team with” so theyre well aware demand is there. theyre fantastic as enemies and well aware of that, but they could get some scarian level drama by teaming together, and i dont say that lightly. since pearl keeps stalling pvp on hermitcraft, theyre never getting that 1v1 without cosmic intervention or a declaration of love 😭

rambling now. love to hear your thoughts xoxo

yippee i love anon rambles!!! im glad we’re all unwell

im NOT gonna go on another rant about the life series alliance situation because as i’ve just demonstrated yesterday i can literally rant. for hours. and we don’t need that lmao. at this point whether or not they team up in the next one SOMETHING will happen. i have that much faith in them. they’re bound to run into each other and do something and that’s the shiny duo connection speaking god bless

like the other anon said, i do think they can work with just about any dynamic and it’ll be insanity-inducing either way. one of my favourite things about them just as a pairing (in any context, platonic, romantic, etc.) is just the way they will drift towards one another, to be linked in a way that’s indescribable, to always carry a piece of each other with themselves wherever they wander because the influence they’ve had on the other is irrefutable— and okay yeah they’re getting way too freaky about it get out of my fan fiction-esque rant. what are you doing here. why are you like this. what. like there’s something going on when what they’re getting up to creeps more and more into being what i usually read in fics. i. hello???

i really, really want to give them the benefit of the doubt. okay. listen. for every mention of feet and poking at pearl’s straightness, there’s a chat message behind it that warranted it, i’m sure. this isn’t the post to be getting into how fans are with cc boundaries and how we’re STILL bad at figuring our tags out, but i feel like this discussion eventually HAS to touch on the fact that it’s been made clear that they don’t want to see shipping stuff, and bringing it up in chat crosses that boundary just as well. i think they’ve handled it well in acknowledging that they’re aware it’s for their characters, drawing clear lines between what they’re comfortable with and what they’re not, etc. i think just the muddled lines from people continuously bringing stuff from a fandom space up to a cc contributes a lot to why we got. whatever happened on that wednesday stream. honestly, from these instances on stream i think it’s been shown that they just find this stuff amusing, and good for them, y’know? still doesn’t mean we should be regularly poking them about ships and. well. i dunno. literally bringing it up in chat?

but still. BUT STILL. god the ways they “yes, and” each other just keep getting worse. stuff like the pickles and the wedding (and the SL ep 4 ender dragon fight! still one of the most baffling “yes, and”s i’ve ever seen from them, i swear to god) were almost completely just them. that was just them. there’s no blaming chat for gem saying “wait, i don’t have a beard” right after pearl rejects ren for having a beard, and CERTAINLY NOBODY ELSE TO BLAME when pearl takes that and literally proposes to her. that was all them. and why. girl. huh??? i do believe, at least to some extent, that pearl is oblivious to the implications of what she does/says. but that only goes so far. sorry man i can only give so much benefit of the doubt for like 2-3 streams of 2 hour fan service. good lord

i was texting a friend who isn’t into mcyt about this whole. thing. and the way i described it was: imagine being a gempearl shipper, and you’re enjoying life, driving this train with fanfics and fanart and everything’s all good… and then for some reason gem and pearl jump on the train, hijack the conductor seat and starts directing the train elsewhere. nearing the end of that stream i was questioning my life and screaming for a way off this train. that’s how it felt to me. of course i’m exaggerating but like. genuinely how did we get here

[spideysbruh]

Tattoo

a/n- i would NEVER get my bf or gfs name tattooed on me… unless it was him.

~~~~

They’re watching a movie together when she brings it up, “Hey, Timothée.” She says, and his head turns from where it's her laying on her lap to look up at her.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna get your name tattooed on me.” She says, meeting his eyes, his eyebrows raise at her words.

“Really?” He smirks, she nods.

“Would you be okay with that?” She wonders, he quickly nods and sits up all the way.

“Can I ask why?” 

She shrugs, “Cause I love you. I've got other tattoos, y'know. So what's one more?” 

They’ve been together four years, she feels like that’s enough time to get his name on her forever. She knows that this is it for the both of them, all she’s waiting for now is a ring.

He laughs, “If you really, actually, deadass want to then, no bullshit, I'll pay for it.” He says enthusiastically. 

“Really?!” She surprisedly asks, and he nods.

“It’s only fair, it’s my name on my girlfriend… and I can’t return the favor, but believe me, if i could baby… I would. Asap.”  He answers, she smiles and leans forward to kiss him, “Actually, I probably would’ve done it already. Cause I love you so much.” He says against her lips, she giggles and presses her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

So that's how they ended up in a tattoo shop two weeks later, Timothée excitedly sitting next to her.

She's getting his name tattooed right underneath her collarbone in a cute cursive font that they both liked.

“Are you nervous?” He asks, holding her hand.

She shakes her head, “Not really, I just hope it doesn’t hurt too much here… and that it looks cute.” 

Timothée chuckles and caresses her cheek as the tattoo artist preps her shoulder, “You’re adorable. It’s gonna look amazing, baby.”

The tattoo artist makes sure she likes the placement before she starts, Y/n grips Timothées hand whenever it stings a little too much. He admires how well she sits there, and can’t help but love that she’s doing this for him. He knew they were in love, but he didn’t think she would get this permanent thing for him.  

It makes him happy knowing that other people will see this and know that it’s because she’s all his. Whenever they go on a red carpet together and she wears a strappy dress, his name will be visible for all to see. He smirks as he pictures people's reactions to it, will they be angry? or happy? Will they think it’s stupid??? 

Well, who gives a fuck what they think.

His thoughts are cut short by y/n staring at him, analyzing his face, “You okay?” she wonders, running her thumb across his hand, he nods and leans over to kiss her hand.

“Yeah, just thinking.” He smiles at her, “It looks really good.”

When the tattoo is finished, Y/n stands up and looks in the mirror, “Oh my god, I love it!” She squeals and turns to let Timothée get a good look, he leans forward and smirks.

“It looks amazing.” He grins, reaching out and pinching her cheek, “You look beautiful with it.” 

She smiles and turns to at least tip the artist but Timothée stops her, “I got it, babe… Dune did well.”

She snorts, “Shut the fuck up.” he's been making that joke for weeks whenever they go anywhere. 

She loves it though. 

“I can't wait til you show it off.” He says as they walk out the shop hand in hand, he looks at the plastic now covering it as she looks up at him.

“Me either, it's so cute.” She giggles, running her thumb along his knuckles.

“I'm gonna find a way to repay you, baby.” 

She laughs, “You don't have to repay me, babe. Our relationship is repayment enough.”

He smiles and kisses her head as they walk.

A few weeks later, Y/ns tattoo has healed and it looks great, she likes it a lot. She's been wearing tank tops whenever she goes out because she wants to show it off. Whenever Timothée is with her, his arm is always over her shoulder, subtly attempting to draw attention to her tattoo.

She tries not to look at what people are saying about it, but Timothée took a peek on twitter a couple of nights ago when she had already fallen asleep. The handful of tweets he saw were positive and excited about it, saying how cute they are. He smiled and shut his phone off, pulling Y/n closer to him before drifting off. 

She's at home, working on her laptop when Timothée lets himself in (he has his own set of keys) and kisses her cheek before he sits next to her at the table. 

“Hi, my love.” He mumbles, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” She smiles, reaching down with her free hand and intertwining their fingers, “Give me one second babe, I'll be done in a bit.” 

“No rush, honey.” He sighs, closing his eyes and sitting patiently as she finishes.

She closes her laptop a few minutes later and looks down at him, his eyes shut as he quietly breathes.

She smiles, “What a nice surprise, baby! You okay?” 

He nods and picks his head up, smiling and gently kissing her lips. “Yeah, just wanted to see you today.” 

She nods and gets up to get him something to eat, he closely follows her, opening his mouth to say something and then stopping.

“What's up, babe?” She giggles, he shrugs and pins her against the counter, connecting their lips once again.

“I love you.” He mumbles before kissing her again, brushing his tongue along her lips.

She hums and parts her lips to let his tongue in, caressing his face in her hands. He sighs harshly against her mouth, “I did something.” 

She opens her eyes and laughs, “What'd you do, baby?” 

“I got a chain.” He says simply, she chuckles and raises an eyebrow. She doesn't think this is extraordinarily groundbreaking news.

“That's cool, babe. You wearing it?” She wonders, moving her hands to his neck to feel for it. He steps back, letting her hands slide over to his chest, the chain hides under his shirt, and she sees an indent poking through it and smirks. 

“Yeah, I'm wearing it.” He replies softly, “You wanna see it?” 

She nods and his hands move to pull the chain out. 

She gasps as she sees that the silver chain has her name at the end of it in the same font as her tattoo.

“No way!” She giggles, running her fingers along her name, “You gonna wear it 24/7?” She teases, her fingers moving up to his neck, across his birthmarks. She smiles at the marks and meets his eyes. 

He nods, “Mhm. For you. For me. I love you so fucking much. Seeing that tattoo on you every day is a dream. To know you're mine. I'm yours too, baby. All fucking yours.” 

She smiles and admires the chain, she imagines him walking around with her name across his chest for everyone to see. 

Timothée eyes her, “Do you like it?” He timidly asks, looking down at his feet.

Y/n tuts and moves her head to make eye contact with him, “Timothée… I fucking love it. Now we're matching.” She giggles and leans up to kiss him. He grins and attacks her face with little kisses.

“I'm so obsessed with you, baby.”

She feels herself heat up at his words, a shy smile gracing her face as he kisses her cheek. 

“I love you.” She sighs, holding onto the chain, its coldness somehow soothing her fingers.

Timothée smiles and kisses her lips again, lifting her onto the counter and going to make out with her again.

At his next red carpet event, Timothée keeps the chain on and insists that Y/n joins him on the carpet. She was hesitant but agreed because he pulled out the cutest face as he begged, the one that almost always gets him whatever he wants from her.

“You’re a piece of shit.” She had joked as he celebrated in their car on the way.

“Yeah yeah, you always remind me.” He teased, reaching for her hand as the car pulled up to the entrance, a crowd of fans waiting to catch a glimpse of all the celebrities attending.

*

She takes his hand and he squeezes it for a second, “Please don’t let go of my hand.” He says before opening the door to constant flashes. All of them capturing his chain and his wide smile as he's holding onto her hand.

[ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal]

Don’t ever tell yourself that you’re not enough, I am certain that you’re truly fine

PART TEN

Ot8 x reader

Word count: 559

Just a warning, this is my first fanfic! Does have age regression themes so if you’re not a fan, I ask that you respectfully just don’t read <3 also this will definitely have some angst

!THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION!

Jisung was freaking out, out of all of them, you choice him to be your daddy???? He was in between interviews, but he feels he needs to take the next interview out his schedule because his little girl called him daddy, him, Han jisung. “I’m here baby, daddy’s here.” He finally responds after a while, after realizing he never responded.

You sniffle softly, “miss daddy” you say with a slightly slurred tone.

“Oh bubs, daddy misses you too” Han says, trying to steady his voice so he doesn’t let it be known that he’s now crying. “You want to tell daddy about your day?”

This only led to you crying a bit more, which makes Han panic which draws attention towards the others. “What’s going on?” Seungmin ask, along with “who are you talking too?”

“Baby, I’m going to put you on speaker, okay? So the others can hear, okay?” Han ask gently and once he received a small ‘okay’ he put it on speaker.

Once on speaker, Seungmin can hear your cries and immediately looks at Han. “What did you say to make her cry?” He automatically accuses which makes Han shake his head and quickly says “I didn’t do anything.”

“Stop fighting,” you say while still crying, your voice shaky. “Don’t be mean to Daddy.”

Seungmins eyes widen, “d-did she say ‘daddy’?” He says with his voice quiet, looking at Han for answers. Han looks at Seungmin, nodding, his eyes slightly bright.

“He isn’t being mean to Daddy, Princess.” Han assures you, not missing Seungmin’s look of surprise on his face. “Now…” Han takes a breath, “you want to tell Daddy what has you all upset?”

You sniffle, your nose feeling stuffy. “Work…” you lisp out quietly, and you sniffle again, “missed yall.”

“We miss you too, bubs.” Seungmin speaks up, softly and comforting. Before he can say anything else, a voice cuts him off “what are you two doing? We have an interview in less than five minutes… wait who are yall talking to?”

Your eyes widen, instantly knowing whose voice that was. “Min Min!” You say instantly, as if Minho was the only way to stop your tears, but he can still hear your stuffy nose and the alight shake in your voice.

Minho looks at Han and Seungmin, then focuses on the phone, “hi my little love.” He then looks at Seungmin, “go tell Channie that we aren’t doing the interview.”

Without questioning, Seungmin goes which just leaves Han and Minho on the phone call with you…

Time goes by, and the interview was long canceled. The boys are all gathered in a hotel room, Hans phone is propped up while on FaceTime with you.

“So Changbin Hyung betted us that he can eat the whole chicken-“ Felix is telling you a story with enthusiasm. “In which I did!” Changbin cuts Felix off, causing Hyunjin to shake his head, “liar” he says to Changbin, causing everyone to laugh, your giggles fill the air.

Chris watches the boys and you interacting with a smile on his face. He loves that you are so comfortable to show this carefree side of yourself with them and that the guys all accept this part of you. After a while, he grabs his phone out and orders you dinner to get delivered, knowing you probably didn’t eat much today.

(If anyone has request for future chapters or just one shots, fill free to let me know!)

(Taglist is open)

TAGLIST: @puppyminnnie @galaxy4489 @xxeiraxx @yunhospuppy

[maxdibert]

In your opinion, why are the fans of Harry Potter more willing to forgive Sirius for betraying Remus in the werewolf "prank", than they are willing to forgive Severus for calling Lily a mudblood? I mean, both actions are bad, but one obviously has worse consequences.

I know part of it is because the characters themselves act that way. Remus forgives Sirius but Lily doesn't forgive Severus, so I guess fans go along with it.

But looking from an outside perspective, I have no way of defending Sirius. I think that may be the worst betrayal in the books and I can't believe something like that gets swept under the rug.

Because the narrative treats what Sirius does as a typical schoolboy prank, while Severus insulting someone is portrayed as worse than the 9/11 attacks, basically. Rowling handles really heavy topics in a totally superficial way when it suits her, especially if she wants you to adore a character. But when she wants you to hate someone, the most trivial things are treated as if they’re the worst offense in the universe. Just look at how Severus has to spend 20 years repenting and flagellating himself for joining a sect, but James just has to “mature” and get a girlfriend for us to forgive him for being an abuser.

It’s Rowling’s moral compass and scale of values that gets transmitted to the reader. If you have any critical thinking, you’ll draw your own conclusions despite her biases. If you’re a sheep, you’ll just follow the narrative without questioning anything. That’s how it works.

Honestly, even when I read the fifth book and wasn’t even a fan of Severus, I didn’t think the insult scene was such a big deal. In fact, I didn’t understand what all the drama was about. I’ve got friends from my neighborhood that I’ve known my whole life, and we’ve said worse things to each other. It feels so childish, and I had to fill in the gaps myself with interpretations and headcanons to even make sense of it. If someone stopped being my friend over something so stupid, given the context of the situation, I’d just tell them to go to hell.

Similarly, if a supposed friend of mine tried to make me an accomplice to murder, then yeah, I’m definitely not forgiving that either. Let’s be clear.

[babyboyhotchner]

PRINCESS ⋆ CASEY NOVAK

YOUR HONOR, MY PRINCESS

description: casey loves calling you her princess. pairing: casey x fem!reader. wc: 3.8

The first time you met Casey Novak, it was in a courtroom - two opposing forces, both relentless, both unwilling to back down.

You had walked in late, not because you were unprepared, far from it - but because you understood the power of an entrance. The soft click of your designer stilettos echoed against the marble floors, drawing more than a few glances from the jury and even the judge. You were dressed in a blush-coloured, curve-hugging dress, the kind that some might have called inappropriate for a courtroom setting. But you knew better. It wasn’t just fabric - it was armour, a weapon, a carefully calculated statement.

Casey had looked up from her neatly organized legal pad, her emerald eyes narrowing slightly as she assessed you. She was the very picture of discipline, clad in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, her auburn hair pinned back in a way that was both practical and devastatingly elegant. There was no reaction on her face, no raised brow or flicker of amusement - just sharp, professional scrutiny. And then, just for a second, something else. A flicker of intrigue, perhaps, before she quickly masked it with her usual stoic expression.

“Your Honor,” you said smoothly as you reached the plaintiff’s table, sliding into your chair with effortless grace. “Apologies for the delay. Traffic was murder.”

Judge Petrov barely spared you a glance over his reading glasses. He had seen your theatrics before. “Cut the dramatics, counsel. Proceed.”

From the defense table, Casey let out a barely audible scoff. “Glad to see your priorities are in order,” she murmured just loud enough for you to hear, eyes still fixed on her notes.

You turned your head slightly, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Why, Casey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were jealous of my grand entrance.”

She didn’t even look at you. “I’m just wondering if you plan to present a legal argument at any point today, or if we should just sit back and enjoy the performance.”

Oh, she was good.

The courtroom quickly became your battleground.

Casey was calculated and methodical, every argument laid out with impeccable logic and precision. She wielded legal precedent like a scalpel, dissecting opposing arguments with brutal efficiency. There was no room for theatrics in her world - only the unshakable foundation of the law.

You, on the other hand, thrived in the unpredictable. You spoke to the jury like they were old friends, weaving emotion and narrative into your arguments in a way that made them forget they were even listening to a legal proceeding. Where Casey relied on hard facts, you built stories, turning cases into living, breathing things.

“You can’t seriously expect the court to entertain this,” Casey said one afternoon, irritation evident in the slight crease between her brows. The case was a heated one, and you had just made a rather unexpected move, throwing in an argument that wasn’t in any of your filings.

“Why not?” You tilted your head, the picture of innocence. “Afraid they might agree with me?”

She let out a slow exhale, her lips pressing together in a way that told you she was trying very hard not to lose her temper. “I’m afraid they might mistake your performance for substance.”

You feigned a wounded expression, placing a delicate hand over your chest. “Ouch, counselor. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to hurt my feelings.”

The judge cleared his throat, clearly unimpressed with your back-and-forth, but the jury? They were eating it up. And, if you weren’t mistaken, so was Casey - whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Outside the courtroom, the tension only grew stronger.

Your paths crossed constantly—at depositions, in courthouse hallways, at late-night coffee shops where you both stopped to refuel after hours of casework. At first, your conversations were all barbed wire and sharp edges, each of you poking at the other’s weak spots, testing limits. But slowly, something shifted. The teasing became less about cutting each other down and more about… something else.

One evening, after a particularly brutal case, you found yourselves alone in the courthouse hallway. The trial had been grueling, and though Casey had technically won, you had made her fight for every inch.

“You fought hard today,” she admitted, surprising you.

You turned to her, watching as she leaned back against the cold marble wall, arms crossed but not in a defensive way. She looked tired, her usual perfectly polished demeanor slightly frayed at the edges.

“Well, I had to give you a challenge,” you said, offering her a small smirk. “Wouldn’t want you getting bored.”

She exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You’re exhausting.”

“Yet you keep showing up.”

Casey glanced at you then, her green eyes lingering just a little too long. Something unspoken passed between you, something charged and dangerous and completely inevitable.

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just sighed, pushing herself off the wall. “Don’t stay too late,” she murmured before walking away.

But you both knew that wasn’t the end of it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The room felt suffocating with heat, the heavy scent of leather-bound law books and aged whiskey mixing with the intoxicating aroma of her presence. The golden glow from her desk lamp cast long shadows, emphasizing the sharp angles of Casey’s face, the way her lips curled in that dangerous smirk.

"You really shouldn’t look at me like that," she murmured, her voice low, warning-laced, but still with that signature authority. She leaned back against the desk, arms crossed, her loosened tie hanging carelessly, enticingly, around her neck.

"Like what?" You took a step closer, smirking, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. The subtle, yet unmistakable scent of your perfume curled around both of you, only amplifying the growing heat.

"Like you want something from me."

Your fingers brushed over the edge of her tie, trailing deliberately down its length. "And if I do?"

Her breath caught for just a moment. You saw it in the way her eyes narrowed, how the composure she worked so hard to maintain cracked just a little, revealing the smouldering hunger beneath.

Casey’s voice dropped, thick and rough. "You’re such a goddamn tease." Her grip tightened on your wrist - not rough, but firm - holding you in place. Her thumb ran circles against your pulse, each movement sending a shockwave of heat through your body.

"You like it," you whispered, eyes locking onto hers.

A wicked chuckle escaped her lips, low and dark, and she pulled you in closer, her body just a breath away from yours.

"I fucking love it," she confessed, the words rougher now, heavy with need. There was no distance anymore between you, only heat, the kind that burned, the kind that could never be sated by anything but each other.

"But you’re not in control here, Princess."

The nickname fell from her lips like a challenge, a command - a reminder.

Her hands slid down your dress, slow and deliberate, as if to savor the fabric beneath her fingertips, as if she wanted to leave a mark, to claim you.

"You wear this just to drive me insane, don’t you?" Her voice was barely a whisper against your ear. "Wearing my favorite color, knowing exactly how to make me lose control."

The air around you felt charged, every word heavy, every gesture deliberate. The tension that had been building between you for months was finally snapping.

"You should have better self-control," you teased, but your voice betrayed you - thin, breathless, caught in the web of her pull.

Casey’s smirk was dark, knowing. "Oh, sweetheart. You’re the one who’s going to be begging me soon."

Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you hard against her, the edge of the desk digging into your thighs as she closed the remaining space between you, her thigh pressing firmly between yours.

"I’ve been patient for months," she growled, her voice a low rasp as her lips brushed against your ear. "Watching you parade around, flaunting yourself, taunting me in front of everyone." Her breath was hot against your skin. "Flirting with me in front of the whole damn courtroom, just to see if I’d crack."

Her grip on your throat was sudden, firm, but not enough to choke, just enough to remind you of her power.

You gasped, the weight of her touch sending a thrill racing through your veins.

"Guess what, Princess?" she murmured, her lips hovering just over your ear. "You win."

And then, suddenly, urgently, her lips crashed into yours. There was nothing soft about it. Her kiss was a demand, taking everything from you, claiming you, pulling you deeper and deeper under her spell. Her teeth grazed your lips, nipping, pulling, urging you to respond, to surrender, to melt.

And you did.

You didn’t just kiss her back - you submitted.

When she pulled back, there was a brief moment of clarity. Her eyes were molten with desire, a cruel, predatory hunger dancing in the depths. Her fingers found your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing you to look at her.

Her thumb brushed over your lips, her gaze locking with yours.

"Pathetic," she muttered under her breath, a slight shake of her head as she looked down at you.

Before you could react, she gripped your chin, forcing your mouth open with surprising force. Your pulse quickened, heart hammering in your chest, breath caught in your throat. You stared at her, wide-eyed, and before you could fully comprehend what was happening, she leaned in - slowly, deliberately - and spit into your waiting mouth.

It was warm, slick, and thick, a tangible mark of her ownership, her control over you.

For a heartbeat, you froze.

Her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she waited, her grip still tight on your jaw, forcing you to swallow.

"Swallow," she commanded, the word sharp, final.

You obeyed.

A thrill ran through you as the taste lingered in your mouth, a reminder of who you were with. Who you belonged to.

"Good girl," Casey murmured, her voice low and rough as she leaned in to kiss you again - this time softer, slower, savouring the moment. But there was nothing gentle in it. It was a reminder, a claim, marking you as hers.

You were breathless, your knees weak beneath you. The sensation of her lips on yours was dizzying, overwhelming.

Her voice dropped even lower, the words curling in your mind, leaving an imprint.

"By the time I’m done with you, you won’t remember how to stand, let alone how to breathe."

Her fingers slid back to your throat, pressing, not hard enough to crush, but enough to make your pulse flutter, enough to steal your breath.

"You’re mine now, Princess."

And you knew, deep down, that tonight - Casey Novak would ruin you.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The drive to her penthouse was suffocating in its silence, every second dragging out in unbearable tension. The atmosphere in the car was thick with unspoken words, heated glances, and the lingering electricity of what had happened in her office earlier. You could still feel the imprint of her touch on your skin, the way her voice had dropped low and dangerous as she’d leaned in close, her presence leaving you breathless. Now, as you sat beside her, the soft fabric of your dress brushing against your thighs, you couldn’t stop the restless movement of your fingers in your lap. Each stolen glance at her - the tight set of her jaw, the way her knuckles whitened against the steering wheel - only made the ache between your legs worse.

When she finally pulled into the parking garage, the tension between you was palpable, like a coiled spring ready to snap. She didn’t say a word as she stepped out of the car, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor. You followed her lead, your heart hammering in your chest as you hurried to keep up with her determined strides. The elevator ride to her penthouse was no better, the enclosed space amplifying every subtle shift in her stance. You could feel her heat, her restrained power, as she stood beside you, her lips pressed into a thin line.

By the time you stepped inside her penthouse, the heavy click of the door shutting felt like the finality of a lock snapping into place. The second the sound echoed through the space, she turned to you, her eyes blazing with intensity. Her lips were on yours in an instant, her kiss hot, demanding, and utterly consuming. There was nothing soft about it - her teeth tugged at your bottom lip, her tongue invading your mouth with a ferocity that left you gasping. Her hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against her, the cool leather of her jacket pressing against your arms as her knee slid between your legs. The pressure against your core was enough to make you whimper, the sound swallowed by her relentless kiss.

When she finally pulled back, her lips were red and swollen, her breath coming in heavy pants. Her hands didn’t loosen their hold on you, her nails digging into your skin just hard enough to send a delicious shiver down your spine. “You’ve been teasing me all fucking night,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous, each word vibrating against your lips. “That little dress, the way you crossed your legs in front of me like you didn’t know exactly what you were doing. But it’s over now. You’re mine.”

Her grip on your wrist was firm as she led you toward the bedroom, the pace of her steps leaving no room for hesitation. The fabric of your dress brushed against your thighs as you stumbled after her, your heels clicking against the hardwood floor. You barely had time to take in the room - the sleek lines of the furniture, the muted tones of the décor—before she spun you around, her hands gripping your shoulders as she backed you up against the wall.

“Strip,” she ordered, her voice slicing through the charged silence like a whip.

You hesitated for a fraction of a second, caught off guard by the raw authority in her tone. But the look in her eyes - sharp and unyielding - left no room for defiance. Your fingers moved to the zipper at the back of your dress, the soft hiss of the fabric splitting filling the room. The dress slipped from your shoulders and pooled at your feet, leaving you in nothing but the lace panties and heels you’d chosen that morning without realizing just how much they’d matter now.

“Faster,” she snapped, her gaze fixed on you like a predator sizing up its prey. “I don’t have all night.”

You hurried to obey, kicking off your heels and peeling the delicate lace down your legs until you were completely bare before her. The weight of her stare was almost unbearable, her eyes raking over you with a hunger that made your skin burn.

“Good girl,” she murmured finally, a slow, predatory smile curling her lips. “So fucking perfect. But not nearly perfect enough. You’ll look better covered in my marks.”

Before you could respond, she was on you again, her hand gripping your chin and tilting your head back to meet her gaze. “You don’t speak unless I tell you to,” she said, her voice a low growl. “Understand?”

“Yes, Casey,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips.

Her smirk widened, and she leaned in closer, her breath hot against your ear. “That’s what I like to hear.”

She pushed you back toward the bed with an unrelenting force, her hands rough and purposeful. When the backs of your knees hit the mattress, she shoved you down, her strength undeniable.

“Lie back,” she commanded, her voice brooking no argument. “Hands above your head.”

Your heart pounded as you complied, your body trembling with anticipation as you stretched out beneath her. The cool air brushed against your skin, making every nerve ending come alive.

She climbed onto the bed, her knees bracketing your hips, her hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. The weight of her body against yours was intoxicating, her power undeniable as she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear.

“You don’t get to decide anything tonight,” she whispered, her voice a dark promise. “Not how hard, not how fast. You’ll take whatever I give you, and you’ll fucking love it.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, your body arching beneath her as her hands trailed down your arms and over your chest. When her fingers reached your throat, she wrapped them around it, squeezing just enough to make your breath hitch. The sensation was heady, the mix of pleasure and control making your pulse race.

“You like this,” she murmured, her lips ghosting over your jaw. “Being at my mercy. Knowing you’re completely mine.”

Her hand slid lower, her nails dragging over your skin and leaving faint red trails in their wake. When her fingers finally slipped between your thighs, you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily against her touch.

“Pathetic,” she sneered, her voice laced with mockery. “So fucking desperate. You’ll beg for it, won’t you?”

“Yes, Casey,” you moaned, your voice barely audible as she pressed her fingers against your slick heat.

Her smirk widened, and she leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “Good. Now, let’s see how much you can take.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Casey’s fingers slid between your thighs, unapologetically exploring the wet heat there, her touch firm and unrelenting. She didn’t hesitate, parting your folds with an ease that had your back arching off the bed. Her lips curled into a smug smile as she felt how soaked you were, the evidence of your need coating her fingertips.

"Look at you," she murmured, her voice dripping with condescension. "So fucking wet already, and I’ve barely touched you. You’re practically begging for me to ruin you."

You whimpered, your legs trembling as she pressed her fingers deeper, teasing your entrance but not giving you the satisfaction of her full touch. She was deliberate, controlled, and maddeningly slow, her fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk, but not enough to send you over the edge.

"You’re such a needy little slut," she growled, her free hand sliding up your body to cup your breast, her thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. "I bet you’ve been dripping for me since the moment I told you to strip. Haven’t you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your voice shaking as her teeth grazed your neck, biting down just hard enough to make you cry out.

"That’s right," she hissed against your skin, her lips pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat. "You fucking love being at my mercy. You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?"

"Yes, Casey," you moaned, your voice breaking as she slid a single finger inside you, the intrusion making your breath hitch.

"God, you’re so tight," she muttered, her tone rough with desire. "I could fuck you with my fingers all night and still never get enough of the way you squeeze me."

Her pace quickened, her finger pumping into you with an unrelenting rhythm, curling just right to hit that spot inside you that made your vision blur. When she added a second finger, you couldn’t stop the shameless moan that tore from your throat, your body writhing beneath her as she fucked you deeper.

"That’s it," she purred, her thumb pressing against your clit in perfect tandem with her thrusts. "Take it like the good little whore you are. Don’t you dare hold back - I want to hear every filthy sound that comes out of your mouth."

Your head fell back against the mattress, your hands still pinned above you as she worked you with ruthless precision. Her mouth was everywhere - biting, licking, sucking - leaving marks in her wake that you knew would linger for days.

"Look at you," she sneered, her voice filled with mockery as she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. "So fucking desperate for me. You’re a mess, you know that? Pathetic and perfect, all at the same time."

Her free hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at her as she increased the pace of her fingers, the slick sounds of her movements filling the room. "You’re mine," she growled, her breath hot against your lips. "Every inch of you. Your body, your mind, your fucking soul - every part of you belongs to me now."

Her words sent you hurtling toward the edge, your body trembling as the pressure built inside you, threatening to break. You could barely think, barely breathe, every nerve ending focused on her and the way she was unraveling you piece by piece.

But just as you felt yourself tip over the edge, her hand stilled, her fingers pulling out of you entirely.

You whimpered in protest, your hips bucking in search of relief, but she only smirked, shaking her head. "Oh no, Princess," she said, her tone dangerously low. "You don’t get to come until I say so. Beg for it."

"Please," you gasped, your voice desperate as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. "Please, Casey, I need it."

She laughed, a dark, wicked sound that sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. "That’s not good enough," she said, leaning down to press her lips to your ear. "I want to hear you beg like the filthy little slut you are. Tell me how badly you need me to make you come."

"Please, Casey," you whimpered, your voice breaking as you looked up at her, your cheeks flushed and your chest heaving. "I need it. I need you to fuck me, to make me come. Please, I’ll do anything."

Her smirk widened, her teeth flashing as she leaned in closer, her breath ghosting over your lips. "That’s better," she murmured, her fingers slipping between your thighs once more, this time with an unrelenting intensity that had you crying out.

"Now, be a good girl and come for me," she commanded, her tone laced with dark satisfaction as her fingers worked you with ruthless precision.

And when you finally shattered beneath her touch, she didn’t let up, her hands and mouth dragging you through wave after wave of pleasure until you were trembling and utterly wrecked beneath her.

"You belong to me," she whispered against your skin, her voice a dark, possessive promise. "And I’ll make damn sure you never forget it."

[cei1ne]

—You suffer from anemia yet your boyfriends as supportive as ever, just in his own way

დ .•*”Summary: You suffer from anemia but you don’t let it stop you from becoming a hero, yet, your boyfriend’s a stubborn mess and forced you to rest.

༺ღ༒Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Anemic!Reader

☆࿐ཽ༵Tags: High school; Relationship; UA; GN!Reader

＊*•̩̩͙Warnings: Cursing?; Anemia; Overprotective boyfriend

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Word count: 3.8k

‧͙⁺˚*･A/N: Someone requested this but it was anonymous and my tumblr was bugging lately! It just got deleted but I still had lots of fun writing this and I hope you’ll have just as much fun reading this! And I didn’t know if they meant headcanons or Scenario so I just did both!

Headcanons: Katsuki Bakugou x GN!Anemic!Reader

1. Worry Masked by Irritation: Bakugou would constantly mask his concern for your condition by pretending to be annoyed. He’d grumble about you being “too weak” but would secretly go above and beyond to ensure you’re healthy.

2. Diet Control Freak: He’d take control of your meals, researching iron-rich foods and sneaking them into your diet. If you tried to resist, he’d shove a plate at you with a snarky remark like, “Eat this before I lose it.”

3. Hyper Awareness: Bakugou would become hyper-aware of your signs of fatigue or dizziness. If you so much as swayed while standing, he’d immediately drag you to sit down.

4. Loud Protector: If anyone dared to tease or question you about your condition, he’d explode (figuratively and maybe literally). “You got something to say?! Say it to me!”

5. Gentle in Private: Though Bakugou is explosive in public, in private, he’d show softer affection. He’d tuck blankets around you, carry you to bed if you overexerted yourself, and grumble softly, “Don’t push yourself, idiot.”

6. Hates Seeing You Weak: Seeing you too tired to get up genuinely unnerves him. He’d pace, bark orders, and eventually sit by your side, silently holding your hand.

7. Acts of Service: Bakugou would do small things like fetching water, helping you stand, or taking on your chores. Of course, he’d act like it’s no big deal. “You’re lucky I’m not a total asshole, huh?”

8. Research Master: He’d secretly learn about anemia from every available resource and even consult Recovery Girl or doctors. He wouldn’t tell you about it, though; he’d just start doing things that showed he knew what he was talking about.

9. Training Adjustment: He’d modify training sessions for you, subtly encouraging you to take breaks without making you feel weak. He might even offer to spar lightly to “keep you on your toes.”

10. Blunt Reassurance: If you ever felt self-conscious about your condition, Bakugou would bluntly shut you down. “You’re not weak. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Got it! Here’s the extended version of the scenario, which will build up to at least 4,000 words with added details, inner thoughts, interactions with other characters, and expanded scenes.

Rest is for the Weak (But Not for You)

The morning started like any other. The dorms buzzed with activity as Class 1-A prepared for the day ahead. You had been one of the first to wake, though not because you were particularly eager. A familiar heaviness sat on your chest, and your limbs felt as though they were weighed down by lead.

It was nothing new. This was your normal.

“Y/N, you doing okay?” Mina’s cheerful voice rang out as she caught sight of you rubbing your temples. “You look kinda pale.”

You gave her a small smile, brushing it off. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You sure? I can grab you something from the cafeteria real quick if you need it!”

“Thanks, Mina, but I’m good,” you said firmly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

She hesitated but eventually nodded, skipping off to join the others. As you gathered your things and headed toward the training grounds, you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

Turning your head, you locked eyes with Bakugou.

He didn’t say anything, but his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow made it clear he’d heard the exchange. You pretended not to notice and hurried to catch up with the others, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.

_________________________________

The training session was supposed to be routine—a series of combat drills designed to test reflexes and stamina. You had been paired with Midoriya for a sparring match, something that usually wouldn’t faze you.

But today, every movement felt sluggish. Your punches lacked their usual strength, and your dodges were just a fraction too slow. Midoriya, ever the observant one, noticed almost immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, concern etched into his face as he blocked one of your weak punches.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, dodging to the side as he retaliated.

But the dizziness was getting worse. Your vision blurred at the edges, and the sound of your own heartbeat roared in your ears.

“Y/N—”

“Stop holding back!” you snapped, cutting him off.

Midoriya flinched but complied, though his hits were clearly pulled. You hated it—hated the pity in his eyes, the way he seemed afraid to fight you properly. You wanted to prove you could keep up, that you weren’t a liability.

And then your knees buckled.

_________________________________

“Oi! What the hell are you doing, Deku?!”

Bakugou’s voice rang out across the gym, loud enough to make everyone pause. You barely registered the sound of his boots stomping across the floor before he was standing between you and Midoriya, his crimson eyes blazing.

“I-It wasn’t his fault—” you started, but Bakugou cut you off with a sharp glare.

“Shut it, dumbass,” he growled before turning back to Midoriya. “What the hell were you thinking, letting them push themselves like that?”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond but quickly decided against it, his expression shifting to one of resignation.

“And you,” Bakugou snarled, rounding on you. “What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, trying to push past him.

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

“You’re not fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re done. Sit down before you pass out.”

_________________________________

Bakugou practically dragged you to the edge of the gym, ignoring your protests as he deposited you on a bench. The other students watched from a distance, their whispered conversations filling the air.

“Bakugou, you’re overreacting,” you muttered, crossing your arms as he crouched in front of you.

“Overreacting, my ass,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “You’re pale as shit, and you can’t even stand up straight. Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

You glared at him, but the dizziness made it hard to keep your head up. Bakugou noticed immediately and let out an irritated sigh.

“Tch. Stay here,” he ordered before stomping off.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a water bottle and a protein bar. He shoved them at you without a word, his scowl deepening when you hesitated.

“Eat. Drink. Now,” he barked.

“Bakugou, I don’t need—”

“Don’t argue with me, dumbass!” he snapped, his voice louder than necessary. “Just do it!”

You flinched but complied, taking small sips of water and nibbling on the protein bar.

________________________________

When the session ended, Bakugou didn’t give you a choice about walking back to the dorms together. He hovered close, his sharp eyes scanning you for any signs of weakness.

“You didn’t have to walk me back,” you muttered, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

“Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t carry your ass,” he shot back.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. But as you reached the dorms, Bakugou’s voice softened.

“You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You glanced at him, surprised by the shift in his demeanor. “I do take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “If you did, I wouldn’t have to babysit you all the damn time.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up with you, and you leaned against the wall for support.

Bakugou was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm as he steadied you.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he grumbled. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”

_________________________________

Once inside your room, Bakugou made himself at home, pulling a chair up beside your bed as you sat down.

“You’re not staying,” you said, giving him a tired look.

“Like hell I’m not,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re an idiot,” he shot back, though there was no real heat behind his words.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the tension gradually fading as the weight of the day settled over you. Bakugou’s presence, as much as you hated to admit it, was comforting.

_________________________________

The silence in your dorm room was a strange thing. Bakugou wasn’t one to enjoy stillness, yet here he was, sitting in your chair like he belonged there, arms crossed as he glared at the wall. The occasional sound of his foot tapping against the floor was the only thing breaking the quiet.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you said finally, unable to take the tension anymore.

“Too bad,” he replied curtly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You’re seriously overreacting. I just got a little dizzy.”

He turned his sharp gaze on you, the intensity in his crimson eyes making you freeze. “A little dizzy? You couldn’t even finish training without almost eating shit in front of everyone.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you muttered, looking away.

“I’m not saying it to piss you off, dumbass,” he snapped, leaning forward slightly. “I’m saying it because you’re being reckless.”

You stared at him, surprised by the raw frustration in his voice. Katsuki Bakugou was never one to sugarcoat his words, but there was something different about the way he spoke to you now—like he was genuinely afraid for you.

“I just don’t want to hold anyone back,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s expression softened for a moment, though his scowl quickly returned. “You’re not holding anyone back,” he said firmly. “You think I give a crap if you can’t keep up sometimes? You’re not weak, Y/N.”

The words caught you off guard. You’d always thought Bakugou saw weakness as unforgivable, that he’d look down on anyone who couldn’t match his relentless energy. Hearing him say otherwise left you speechless.

“Tch. Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m just telling the truth. Now shut up and rest.”

_________________________________

Despite Bakugou’s insistence that you stay in bed, word of your condition had spread among your classmates, and it wasn’t long before a few of them came knocking.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Mina burst into the room, her usual enthusiasm dampened by concern. She carried a small bag of snacks, which she set on your bedside table with a flourish.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bakugou interjected from his seat, his voice dripping with irritation. “Now get out.”

“Bakugou, be nice!” Kirishima appeared behind Mina, giving his friend a pointed look before turning to you. “We just wanted to check on you, Y/N. You scared us a little back there.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, guilt creeping into your tone. “I just… overdid it.”

“You think?” Bakugou muttered under his breath.

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, we’re glad you’re okay. Just take it easy, all right? And don’t let Bakugou boss you around too much.”

“Too late for that,” you joked, earning a glare from Bakugou.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Mina and Kirishima finally left, though not without a promise to check in on you again later. As soon as the door closed, Bakugou let out an irritated huff.

“They don’t know when to leave,” he grumbled.

“They’re just worried,” you said, leaning back against the pillows. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a damn audience while I’m trying to take care of you,” he shot back.

You raised an eyebrow. “Trying to take care of me? Is that what this is?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing again.

_________________________________

That night, long after Bakugou had begrudgingly left your room, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His words from earlier echoed in your mind.

“You’re not weak, Y/N.”

It was such a simple statement, yet it meant more to you than you could explain. For as long as you could remember, you’d been battling the fear that your anemia made you a burden. You hated the idea of being someone others had to take care of.

But Bakugou didn’t see you that way.

You weren’t sure when he’d started paying such close attention to you, but his protectiveness was undeniable. It was infuriating at times, but it also warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t ignore.

_________________________________

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the smell of food.

Groggily sitting up, you saw Bakugou standing by your desk, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“What’s it look like?” he replied, setting the tray down on your lap. “You’re eating before training today.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You made this?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s just eggs and toast. Not like I cooked a five-star meal.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you picked up your fork. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

As you ate, you noticed how he lingered by the door, his usual impatience replaced by something softer.

“Are you gonna watch me the whole time?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he shot back.

_________________________________

Over the next few weeks, Bakugou’s concern for you became an undeniable part of your routine. He started carrying snacks and water bottles with him during training, shoving them at you whenever he thought you looked tired. He adjusted his own training schedule to keep an eye on you, even if it meant sparring with someone else so he could watch from a distance.

And while he never outright said it, his actions spoke volumes.

One day, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the gym, your legs dangling over the side as you tried to catch your breath. Bakugou appeared beside you, handing you a cold water bottle without a word.

“Thanks,” you said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

“Tch. Don’t mention it,” he muttered, sitting down next to you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the gym fading into the background. It was moments like this that reminded you just how much Bakugou cared, even if he’d never admit it.

“You’re not weak, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you said quietly, using his first name for the first time in weeks.

He didn’t say anything, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

[wagconts]

Chef Gavi | Pablo Gavi

summary :: Where you and Pablo record a video for YouTube making a chocolate cake.

warnings :: none...!

word count :: 0.790k

Your YouTube channel was growing rapidly, and interacting with your fans was one of your favorite things. Recently, a specific request had been popping up in the comments: “Do a cooking video with Gavi!” or “Gavi in the kitchen, please, we want to see you two together!” You loved the idea, but your excitement really kicked in when your boyfriend himself asked to join one of your videos.

— So, love, when are we making that chocolate cake? — he asked, a mischievous smile on his face as you both sat on the couch.

— Do you really want to join? Because I don’t want anyone complaining if you mess everything up. — you teased.

— Me? Mess up? You’ll see, I’m going to be the star chef of this video! — he replied confidently.

It was a sunny afternoon, and you’d carefully set up the kitchen for the shoot. Gavi walked into the room wearing an apron that read "Chef Gavi" and one of those iconic chef hats. Just looking at him, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

— What’s so funny? I’m in character! — he said, striking a dramatic pose.

— Alright, Chef Gavi. Let’s see if your talents go beyond the football field.

You adjusted the camera and began the video introduction:

— Hi, everyone! Today, we have a very special guest, someone many of you might know — You glanced at Gavi, who pretended to be distracted. — He’s amazing on the football field, but can he handle the kitchen? Let’s find out!

You both decided to make a simple chocolate cake, but things didn’t go quite as planned. While you explained the ingredients, Gavi decided to take matters into his own hands.

— Love, why are you cracking the egg like that? It’s going to spill everywhere! — you warned, already predicting the disaster.

— I saw a chef do it like this; it looks more professional. — And, of course, he ended up cracking an egg on the counter.

You tried to stifle your laughter as you cleaned up the mess. — Congratulations, Chef Gavi. First attempt, and we’re already in cleanup mode.

Next came the sugar. Distracted, Gavi poured almost twice the amount needed.

— Pablo! What are you doing? This is going to turn into a sugar brick!

— What? You said a full cup. Isn’t this full? — he asked, holding up a giant mug.

— Sweetheart, there’s a difference between a cup and a mug, just so you know.

— Well, you didn’t tell me that. — he shot back, heading to the cabinet to look for a proper measuring cup. — Is this it?

He held up a small white cup, and you nodded. With a proud grin, he returned to the counter.

When it was time to mix the batter, Gavi insisted on using the electric mixer, even though you explained the batter was light enough to do by hand. The real issue came when he forgot to turn off the mixer before lifting it out of the bowl. Chocolate splattered everywhere: on the counter, the camera, his apron… and even on your face.

— Look at what you’ve done! — you exclaimed, laughing as you tried to wipe your face. —Don’t forget to turn it off next time!

He looked at you with a sheepish smile. —Everything’s under control, Chef! Just trust me.

Despite all the mishaps, the batter finally made it into the oven. You and Gavi even had fun drawing little chocolate swirls on the top before baking it. While waiting, Gavi turned to you with a smug grin.

— See? I told you it would work out. It was just a little mess along the way.

— A little mess? This counter looks like a battlefield! — you replied, pointing to the chaos around you.

When the timer went off, you both pulled out a perfectly baked cake. Decorating the cake was a team effort, with Gavi spreading the frosting while you added sprinkles and other toppings.

— And here it is, everyone: the chocolate cake by Chef Gavi and Chef [Your Name]! — you said to the camera.

After wrapping up the recording, you both sat at the table to taste the cake. Gavi cut a slice and offered it to you, pretending to be overly fancy.

— I’ll admit, it’s good. But I think most of the effort was mine. — he joked.

— Sure, sure. Next time, we’ll see if you can do it on your own, Chef Gavi.

You both laughed, and the video ended up becoming one of the most-watched on your channel, with fans loving every moment of the chaos and your undeniable chemistry.

[katerinaaqu]

Hello! Been a frequenter on your page and I am I’m love with your work. I have a few questions, and I’m hoping you can re-wire the truth of Greek Mythology for me. (Cause some people…..you know) 1. Have Diomedes and Odysseus met before the Trojan War? If they didn’t, did they have general knowledge of the other at least? 2. I’ve heard that Odysseus wasn’t as physically intimidating as the others, (Agamemnon, Diomedes, etc) Is that true? Because sites and docs make Odysseus seem like he is a tiny, little man who likes to ONLY think in his tent and has everyone else do his heavylifting. Does he at least have some military experience? If you had to assign a body type for him, what actor, influencer, or singer would you say, “yeah that’s him.” 3. I know that Odysseus is, at least, in the morally gray side of the universe. Does he have his moments of “honor”, or certain people’s versions of “morally correct?” Does he have moments of selflessness, bravery, or integrity?

And some silly little questions. Since Odysseus is your favorite character, If he walked into a therapists office/physical examination/got analyzed by a classification system, when he walked out, what mental evaluation would have been made. Ex. PTSD, BPD, etc. (I searched on doctor google, and they said maybe he would be on the spectrum of ASPD.) If Odysseus was alive today, would he still be a schemer, liar, etc. Would it be tamed down? Not looking for the mental gymnastics as much?

I adore your stuff, keep on doing you. I hope to see more.

You are a frequenter to my page and you are asking me on how I feel on people drawing Odysseus as a tiny figure or whether I believe Odysseus is brave?! THE HORROR! Just kidding I am a yapper and I love analyzing that! So here we go every point at the time.

As always viewer's discretion is advised because my yapping will be non-stop!!!! XD

I remember answering that question in the past to someone else who was wondering of it. If we follow sources like Apollodorous for example, Diomedes was one of the suitors of Helen's and he was also bound under the Oath of Tyndareus. I suspect that was why Apollodorous wanted to explain as to why Diomedes was in the war to begin with. So under this version, Odysseus and Diomedes met for the first time in Sparta while both courted Helen. However I do side up more with other sources that do not include him because arguably Diomedes is the youngest or one of the youngest kings around and he would be very young to be courting Helen at that time (Even archaic paintings more often whatnot have him beard-less so that means he was in his 20s, maximum early 30s in the war when Iliad takes place, aka the final years so that means he joined when he was somewhere between 18-20 years of age). That also fits since some readings of the War of the Epigonoi in which Diomedes took part in, happened around 5 years before Troy when Diomedes was 14). As per readings Helen's courting happened 10 to 20 (as per Apollodorous extended narrative which again do not find me agreeable for! Hehe) years before Troy. Diomedes would literally be a child at that time. So I think it is more logical assumption to believe they met for the first time in Aulis at the gathering of the fleet. As for whether they knew each other by narrations, possibly. Judging on how the kings spoke to Diomedes about his father Tydeus, means that they had knowledge of him and his war with the other Seven against Thebes so yes I believe they have heard of each other but I do not think they actually met before Aulis. They are a generation apart after all!

Gosh...yeah I see it all the time and honestly I am soooo tired of it (I mean sure art is art and everyone is free to draw what they want but honestly I don't think I have ever seen something more inaccurate than people draw Odysseus like a tiny skinny guy and man ONLY STAYS IN HIS TENT?! Lol the dude was lifting the entire Trojan War if not the Epic Cycle on his back! XD I even made this post a while back:

Odysseus? Really? The guy that stood his ground against behemoth Ajax in their wrestling in the funeral games of Patroclus? (Sure when Ajax managed to take the upper hand for one second, Odysseus cheated and kicked him behind the knee but then they were wrestling again and literally neither of the two could come on top). Or Odysseus that basically made Irus, the beggar and all the suitors back off in wonder when he showed his body during his match against Irus (of whose jaw he broke with just ONE punch)? The guy whose back and thighs were so thoroughly described in the Odyssey that it became ridiculous!? Hahaha right!

Arguably his first description happens in the Iliad, which I am citing in this analysis of mine in the past:

Odysseus is described usually short or average to short of structure and then Homer proceeds to explain to us how he is wider in the shoulder and the chest than Agamemnon who was a head taller than him. He is described that he looks like a ram, as I mentioned to my analysis; an animal sturdy, proud and strong. Odysseus has arguably one of the best physiques out heroes despite his age (which makes one wonder how he was in his peak at the age of 30 or something)

As for whether he sat in his tent all day I think that if there is even one person who said that he hasn't read a single thing on Homer. Odysseus was always in the center of all action of the war. Yes, he does refrain from rushing in battle (In the Iliad for example he kept his troops away from action till it was their right moment to arrive or that he placed himself as almost for last to fight with Hector because yeah he wasn't in the mood on dying that day!) but he was always fighting to the front lines, he was always inserting himself in the events that were happening. He was taking part in secret missions such as the one we see in the Iliad (Diomedes and himself going to counter-spy the enemy field or in the Odyssey how he literally sneaks in Troy, which is linked to the Palladium of Athena heist story).

As I mention to that humorous post of mine; Odysseus literally does almost everything in the war; he was ambassador, he was settling things between kings when they had conflicts, he was fighting first line when he had to (but knew when to refrain from it to assure his safety and the safety of his men, thus suffering the bare minimum losses at war), he kept everyone together when he had to, he captured Helenus and extracted the prophecy from him, he went to get the Palladium himself, he came up with the Horse idea and he was one of the first inside the horse etc. Even in the Odyssey; he conquered Ismarus, he killed the suitors himself, he was ready to fight gods and monsters for his men etc. I think the sources speak on themselves.

Yes he does have military experience. For starters the slaves in his palace are called δμωαί which means "slave acquired at war" so most likely he did some of it himself. Two he has the bow that was given to him as a gift for offering assistance to Messina (although the exact length or nature of it is not mentioned in the Odyssey) and Penelope informs us that Odysseus faced the Taphian pirates before (when she mentions the incident of Antinous's father arriving to the palace chased after and begged Odysseus to save his life). Odysseus definitely has military experience (possibly his military successes made him also king while his father was alive, potentially Laertes recognized his son's talent and retired) but it seems that his military experience was not of a large or extended scale (for example like Diomedes) or of conquering nature (like Agamemnon or Diomedes, the first expanded the influence of his kingdom and the latter conquered Thebes, took control of Argos and regained control of his grandfather's lands for him) but they seem rather of domestic nature, such as the mutiny of the Taphians, an area close to his kingdom or offering assistance to a fellow king without getting too much into detail.

Hmm hard to say that I can find some straight out similarity to Odysseus that is a very good question.

I think though so far the greatest resemblance I could find was Christos Tsagas who played Odysseus in Iphigenia movie in 1977 whom I am mentioning here:

And here:

That was literally my moment of

3. Actually I have referred to the matter in another answer of mine:

As I mentioned to that ask of mine, I think the characterization of "morally gray" for Odysseus at least as far as Homer is concerned is not doing him full justice. Odysseus has no problem recognize right from wrong nor does he make bad decisions without thinking even if he knows is not morally correct. Yes, he oftentimes is ready to cheat (see for example the match of Ajax) and he is capable of twisting his words on certain things but he doesn't seem to be the type of person that consistently breaks the law for the loves of it (now his version on certain post-homeric sources such as the plays of Euripides who was consistently writing Odysseus negatively, or Conon, who is the oldest known version to my knowledge of the story in which he tries to backstab Diomedes) I do not see much to characterize him as such. Perhaps the alleged murder of Palamedes would be one (even if we do not know what the contribution of Odysseus was in the Epic Cycle for sure given how we only know Epic Cyle moments from scholiasts and later sources, but as I said I find it way too complicated matter to characterize him straight out as "morally gray" in general much less for Homer

However I absolutely understand what you mean.

Once again I get disappointed when people always assume that Odysseus is like the dude that would step on you to save his ass and laugh in the night about it when we have literally the lengths to which he went in the ENTIRE Odyssey which I analyze here:

Or how he went to save Diomedes in Rhapsody 11 in Iliad! He literally rushed to his assistance and gave him his chariot and stayed behind to cover his retreat. Odysseus also is named the most pious to the gods and the best when it comes to sacrifices by Zeus himself. He protects his men by literally sacrificing his own body when he was forced to accept Circe's bed and mind you he was ready to face her WITHOUT knowing how to beat her spell. Hermes just happened to be on his way. Odysseus didn't know that he would have help. He literally went towards the unknown, with just his sword at hand, to face an immortal witch without knowing what to do because he cared for his men and he was planning his way through. He was ready to fight Skylla. He also tried to test the suitors so all of them wouldn't need to die. He also scolds his wetnurse for wishing to cry out of joy upon seeing the results of the slaughter.

Even in post-homeric sources we know from Pausanias that Odysseus gave Penelope a choice whether she wanted to marry him or return to her father. So he respected her decision. In Sophocles's "Ajax" he feels sympathy for Ajax's condition and he insists upon giving him a proper burial when all other kings turned their backs on him. He also protects the body of Achilles alongside Ajax before that etc.

I think people saying Odysseus has no honor or integrity or that he is totally immoral or that he is not brave or has no selflessness simply haven't read enough of Odysseus. The entirety of the Odyssey was him trying to save what he can from his crew and placing himself in harm's way for them and protecting them with all he had.

~~~~~~~~

Hmm that is an interesting question. Quite frankly I do not think it is fair to always find disorders or syndromes to the Greek heroes and such because just because someone has certain behavioral patterns doesn't necessarily mean they need to be diagnosed just like with everyday people after all. What is more certain behavioral patterns in Greek mythology can be partially "ignored" in one way given how the ancient Greek sources also speak of pre-determined events and such so the agency of the heroes is rather blurry subject but that being said here we go.

I absolutely wouldn't say that Odysseus belongs to the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum. Especially when Homer is concerned. I mean as per DSM-5 ASPD in order to be diagnosed we have:

A pervasive pattern of disregard for and violation of the rights of others, occurring since age 15 years, as indicated by three (or more) of the following:

Failure to conform to social norms with respect to lawful behaviors, as indicated by repeatedly performing acts that are grounds for arrest. (Odysseus doesn't conform to social norms? Who is the one in charge for sacrifices? Who respects the gods to the level of not wishing to offer assistance to people at war because they break the rules Odysseus who desires to honor the customs of Xenia to the extreme? The only "social norm" he doesn't seem to be dealing with is the direct "heroic" battle and he prefers to use wits to do his bidding. Is that outside the ideal social role? Yes. Was he though encouraged or helped by Athena? The goddess that literally dictates some basic social norms? Also yes. Him not being conformed in one specific pattern is not necessarily sign of disorder otherwise everyone's uniqueness is considered a symptom XD As for the things he steals or takes I remind you the actions were encouraged by Athena or placed up by the circumstances or dictated by prophecies and ironically most of the actions happen in harsh warfare. I doubt anyone would be judged if they stole information from an enemy base to help your side. In fact Odysseus resents the idea of stealing from the cave of Polyphemus and run even if his men want to)

Deceitfulness, as indicated by repeated lying, use of aliases, or conning others for personal profit or pleasure. ("for personal profit or pleasure" is the key here. When does Odysseus lie and use aliases? When he needs to protect himself or when he needs to protect others for example with the suitors or Polyphemus. I mean who would go in a room full of men who wanna murder you, over 100 of them, and you would say "hey what's up! It is I!" or in Polyphemus? Who wouldn't lie or hide? In other cases when Odysseus hides his identity or lies about it is when he is not certain he is safe. He doesn't lie just to deceive others and get himself gain something that belongs to others -unless we count some versions created in future sources-. His aliases are usually created for some reason and let's be honest in the situations he was in, most of us would have done the same. Even in Philoctetes where he basically says that he would be a chameleon and slither himself in every situation when the situation calls for it, is also an interesting thing to imagine that we often do so as well don't we? We try to form ourselves up to a situation if we need to.)

Impulsivity or failure to plan ahead. (Impulsivity in certain cases is done by everyone. You do take impulsive decisions or do something out of impulse. In order for this to be pathologic one needs to be doing it consistently. Odysseus arguably always plans ahead. He literally planned the whole "I am nobody" trick so that just in case Polyphemus had allies with him the fake name would confuse them, which actually happpened. He also arguably created allies to both Tyndareus and himself with the Oath of Tyndareus. The fact that he didn't calculate Menelaus would use the oath to get Helen back 10 years later I am not sure if it actually counts as "inability to plan ahead". Also miscalculations to a plan can still happen for example not calculate the true magnitude of of the taking of Troy but again I doubt if that counts again as "failiure to plan ahead". Quite frankly his scheme to take Troy was a perfect success. The fact that several of his schemes turn boomerang against him might as well be seen through the spectrum of fate as well. As for certain impulsive things that he does aka reveling his name to Polyphemus one can say who wouldn't have done so if you think the extreme anxious situation that he was under; days and days of psychological torment and extreme anxiety with barely any sleep or proper food and such? Who wouldn't lose control?)

Irritability and aggressiveness, as indicated by repeated physical fights or assaults. (Aggressiveness is definitely part of his persona in more ways than one. But of course that is part of multiple psychological conditions including Anxiety and Depression and of course Odysseus even in Iliad was already a 10 year war veteran which again is behavior often seen in those who have been through warfare)

Reckless disregard for safety of self or others. (Regardless of safety? Odysseus? Who is always keeping his men out of harm's way or advises them to do so? At war he gets in battle when it is the best moment for him and his men, in the Odyssey he repeatedly warns them against certain decisions etc. The fact that more often whatnot Odysseus thinks of death or has some reckless or impulsive decision is again not done consistently and we see that we have moments like that in our everyday life as well)

Consistent irresponsibility, as indicated by repeated failure to sustain consistent work behavior or honor financial obligations. (Consistent irresponsibility for the man that was basically looked upon every time something bad happened to fix it? The man that always advised others to make good decisions? The man that seems the very definition of "one pays his depts" guy? I would say not. He often speaks on his emotions and mind you the fact that he managed to sustain provisions on Helios's islands and feed 40 men for an elongated amount of time while famish lasted I would say he knows how to manage his economics and such! Hahaha!)

Lack of remorse, as indicated by being indifferent to or rationalizing having hurt, mistreated, or stolen from another (He bawls his eyes out of remorse in the island of Phaeakes not once but TWICE when he hears a man singing about Troy. Odysseus is not void of emotion or of the essence of right or wrong and he definitely shows remorse for his actions or he knows when he has to admit it for example he knows the act of murder of the suitors was arguably wrong and yet necessary as per Athena's advise as well but again as far as Homer is concerned)

Of course bear in mind that I am no psychologist or psychiatrist so these are my interpretation as someone who is enthusiastic on psychology.

As I said above I think people making Odysseus's lies as something that consists his whole persona as if he has nothing else to offer is wrong in the first place because if one thinks the conditions he lived in he was always on his guard and worried. So even if one speaks on the lies being too many, they are not necessarily a product of ASPD. Lying is also part of others like PTSD or Depression given how many people lie out of fear or worry over something.

That being said if in modern age Odysseus was a survivor of a terrible tragedy and a war veteran on top of that then absolutely he would act on a similar basis as well as others

So instead of that I think one thing I would "diagnose" Odysseus with, again based on the homeric poems mainly would be

PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

For PTSD as per DSM-5:

A. Exposure to actual or threatened death, serious injury, or sexual violence in one (or more) of the following ways:

Directly experiencing the traumatic event(s). (Ι mean...no need to elaborate here now do we?)

Witnessing, in person, the event(s) as it occurred to others. (This speaks on its own. He has experienced both trauma at war by being hurt or chased after or under stress or he was raped and used lost and almost died multiple times or witnessed people die around him such as his fellow kings -Ajax- or his comrades)

Learning that the traumatic event(s) occurred to a close family member or close friend. In cases of actual or threatened death of a family member or friend, the event(s) must have been violent or accidental. (He literally met his mother in the underworld who told him she died of sorrow while waiting of him, he saw his comrade Elpenor and he found out he died, he heard that his wife was struggling and that his father lost his mind among others)

Experiencing repeated or extreme exposure to aversive details of the traumatic event(s) (e.g., first responders collecting human remains: police officers repeatedly exposed to details of child abuse). (This part is tricky because as far as the Odyssey is concerned we do not know how often Odysseus was experiencing dreams or flashbacks of what happened although arguably he was always remembering it, for example when he was mistreated by the suitors he was reminding himself to endure because he had endured worse before and he remembers Polyphemus so we can assume he definitely had some close calls with his past and dreams before or at least that he constantly thinks of them)

So as per the B section of DSM we do have the factor of reoccurring memories or dreams. As I said as far as Odyssey is concerned we do not have much on the stimuli through dreams however if I may draw the attention to one of the factors:

Recurrent Involuntary and intrusive distressing memories of the traumatic event(s) (Odysseus cries his eyes out once a heroic song about Troy begins to play. His memory of the war sneaks in to the point that he blows his anonymity and not only that his memory is stimulated enough to say his story and explain himself to the presented members)

As per the C part of it:

C. Persistent avoidance of stimuli associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by one or both of the following:

Avoidance of or efforts to avoid distressing memories, thoughts, or feelings about or closely associated with the traumatic event(s). (Odysseus doesn't want to reveal his identity again. When he is taken in by Nausicaa he hides who he is. He doesn't speak on himself. He avoids the subject altogether. He knows he has little to no possibility to get the help he needs without honoring the part of Xenia law that involves himself to reveal who he is and yet he is not ready to speak up)

Avoidance of or efforts to avoid external reminders (people, places, conversations, activities, objects, situations) that arouse distressing memories, thoughts, or feelings about or closely associated with the traumatic event(s). (Odysseus refuses to take part to athletic activities in Scheria. He doesn't want to blow his cover but also potentially he knows that this brings him memories from the funerary games of the army. He also knows he will always go in full force at what he does so participating would blow his cover and potentially make him reveal who he is, something he avoids)

D. Negative alterations in cognitions and mood associated with the traumatic event(s), beginning or worsening after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by two (or more) of the following:

Inability to remember an important aspect of the traumatic event(s) (typically due to dissociative amnesia and not to other factors such as head injury, alcohol, or drugs). (This one doesn't apply here because Odysseus has a very sharp memory. He explains everything in detail. We also do not see him in Homer abusing alcohol or anything else -and I mean it IS an ancient text after all Homer was no psychologist)

Persistent and exaggerated negative beliefs or expectations about oneself, others, or the world (e.g., “I am bad,” “No one can be trusted,” ‘The world is completely dangerous,” “My whole nervous system is permanently ruined”). (Odysseus often talks with regret about his decisions during his narration but he also expresses rage many times over on the events that took place. He also calls his comrades "mindless" many times over especially on events that marked his trip's outcome such as the sack of Aeolus or the cows of Helios. Of course that is only natural in one essence so it doesn't necessarily need to be a symptom but I am throwing that to the table)

Persistent, distorted cognitions about the cause or consequences of the traumatic event(s) that lead the individual to blame himself/herself or others. (Once more even though Odysseus doesn't specifically speak on cause and effect apart from the mentions we get in the Odyssey but he does seem to try and figure the root of the problem. He is also speaking negatively on himself or speaking on shameful moments of his trip also certain things like Imsarus he just mentions them. He doesn't even get to elaborate those but moments such as Charybdis or Skylla etc were thoroughly described! Or the shipwreck)

Persistent negative emotional state (e.g., fear, horror, anger, guilt, or shame). (Once again explanation not needed; ashamed to be washed by maidens, fear that he might be trapped again, angry and irritated, feeling guilt. All the emotions in the Odyssey are here)

Markedly diminished interest or participation in significant activities. (He is not interested in showing his potential to the Phaeakes or speak of his name or heritage even when he heard the song for the first time so he might have clues that they are positively thinking towards him)

Feelings of detachment or estrangement from others. (He is a stranger, a beggar. He sits in the corner. Most of the time he is silent. He is the oddity in the room. He doesn't become the center of attention till his emotions betray him and he has to speak to the Phaeakes on who he is)

Persistent inability to experience positive emotions (e.g., inability to experience happiness, satisfaction, or loving feelings). (He is crying for seven years at the beach longing for his home. He is rarely ever pictured laughing. His feelings of distrust and anger continue and expand even to his wetnurse whom he feels he has to threaten in order to be on the safe side. He feels betrayed by the gods even as he calls out to Athena and reminds her that she didn't help him when he needed her the most)

E. Marked alterations in arousal and reactivity associated with the traumatic event(s), be ginning or worsening after the traumatic event(s) occurred, as evidenced by two (or more) of the following:

Irritable behavior and angry outbursts (with little or no provocation) typically expressed as verbal or physical aggression toward people or objects. (Odysseus definitely shows irritable behavior through and through to the Iliad when he beats up Thersites to make an example out of him or when he loses control when Eurylochus hurts his ego by calling out to him for being enchanted by Circe and he basically brings up a painful memory; the Cyclops incident. Odysseus cannot take this and he is ready to literally slay his brother-in-law on the spot and he is stopped by the others)

Reckless or self-destructive behavior. (HERE is where I would put some of that recklessness we see in the Odyssey; Odysseus wishing to rescue his men no matter what; he is ready to fight a goddess with little to no plan to save the little he has left of men after his loss by the Laestrigonians, he is ready to fight Skylla for them, he provokes the suitors to see who is rotten and who is not.)

Hypervigilance. (No explanation needed here! Odysseus constantly sees enemies and reasons to distrust people. He doesn't allow his men near the sack of winds, he remains awake even to do it all by himself. He saw danger to the bay of Laestrygonians and tied his ship outside the bay -and he was proven right-, despite the fact he was in friendly company, he hides himself from the Phaeakes and he constantly tests or measures people, even his wetnurse needs to be threatened in his mind, even the loyal slave Eumeus needs to wait a bit before fully trusted to be placed within the scheme he was planning. Even when the Phaeakes were proven true to him and brought him home, when he woke up and he didn't recognize his own country, his first thought was that the Phaeakes tricked him.)

Exaggerated startle response. (He literally grabs his wetnurse by the throat when she is ready to shout. He is even threatening on top of that to make sure that she will not speak up despite his orders)

Problems with concentration. (This doesn't seem to apply here since Odysseus is hyper focused most of the time either when he tells his story or when he is planning the murder of the suitors)

Sleep disturbance (e.g., difficulty falling or staying asleep or restless sleep). (This one again is tricky since we have no clue but at the moments we see Odysseus sleeping for example during his return, we see him sleep peacefully. We do not see much on nightmares he might or might not have. Perhaps he has some but the thought of his homeland puts him at peace)

Suicidal thoughts are also common and Odysseus thought about ending his own life many times over in the Odyssey; from the moment the sack of winds was opened and he saw his home away once more till the moment he was at Calypso's isle and he was thinking of death daily.

The dude even had a syndrome named after him known as "Ulysses Syndrome" or migrant syndrome of chronic and multiple stress Basically it involves chronic stress especially for people who spent years in anxiety while moving from one place to another (to put it very roughly)

Okay please psychologists and psychiatrists do not come and have my head for this I am only doing this for fictional characters and not for real people, I am just enthusiast of psychology and not an actual psychologist so yeah...guys be gentle with me! XD

But yeah I think this whole thing on "Odysseus is a liar" as if that is his reason of existence or that he is like a pathological liar or that he doesn't have any sort of moral code I feel like it misses the whole point of the homeric hero (although some examples of post-homeric and roman sources might fit that better)

Hope this answers some of your questions dear Anon and sorry this was sooooooo long! Yeah I am normal about that guy! XD

[angelasscribbles]

65 Poly Asks Part 1

I was super stoked to stumble across these asks specifically for polycules!!

I saved these asks two months ago and am just now finding the time and energy to sit and answer them.

I haven’t been that active lately but suddenly tonight I had a bit of free time and started reading through these and got so excited to answer them!

There are 65 questions and I tend to be long winded, so I’m going to do them a few at a time so you’re not reading a book by the time I’m done.

Ok, let’s dig in!!

I’m answering for my Bad Romance gang, obviously. Here are the first ten questions.

How many members are in the polycule? How are they related to each other? Feel free to draw a flowchart. I think that I already answered this here in depth, so I’ll try to stay brief. There are five primary members: Liam, Drake, Max, Riley, and Rashad. Six if you count Siobhan, an OC I made up that in my mind is still around, but I haven’t really written much about her. Riley and Liam are married and they are the king and queen of Cordonia. Riley, Max, and Liam are a throuple. Max is officially Riley’s personal assistant and top royal advisor. Drake is only with Riley romantically. Drake and Liam are best friends and have been since childhood. Drake is the head of Riley’s Queen’s Guard. Rashad was originally Liam’s friend but is now Riley’s lover and her personal lawyer. Liam and Rashad are still friendly, but Drake and Rashad do not like each other. Siobhan is Riley’s friend with benefits. Siobhan and Drake have been intimate with each other in a threesome with Riley. I might expand on that relationship, eventually. Hana is Riley’s best friend. They slept together once, but it didn’t affect their friendship. Hana is aromantic. She and Liam actively dislike each other, but try to get along for Riley’s sake.

Did the relationship start polyamorous, or was it a monogamous relationship that eventually opened? Oh, it started monogamously with Riley breaking up with Max to date Liam, then descended into a toxic hot mess when Liam broke her heart but then refused to let her go (there was an iron-clad marriage contract involved).

If it started monogamous, how did the process of opening the relationship go? Well, basically Riley just did whatever she wanted and tried her best to push Liam away. He refused to be pushed though and eventually agreed to a Cordonian Arrangement (a clause added to the marriage contract that legally opens it). Once he developed his own feelings for Max, and realized that you can, in fact, love more than one person at the same time, he chilled out a lot with the jealousy.

Are there any mono-poly relationships in the polycule? Aaaghh! Yes!! Drake remains mostly monogamous (he has engaged in a threesome, but he doesn’t think that counts since Riley was one of the participants; it was her idea, and she chose the other person).

What “shape” is the polycule? A triad, a “V”, a straight line of metamours, or incomprehensible? Listen. It’s complicated lol. Again, I went into great detail here. Basically63, Liam, Max, and Riley are a triad and they are nesting partners. But since Drake is also a nesting partner, even though he’s mono and only with Riley, I count them as a quad. Rashad is Riley’s lover and he is solo-poly with lots of other partners, so he is not a nesting partner but part of the extended polycule.

Where do each of the members land on the “solo poly” to “entwined” spectrum? As stated above, Rashad is solo poly. He dates very casually but is married to his job. His only deep emotional entanglement is Riley but even for her, he wouldn’t change his lifestyle. They work because she would never ask him nor want him to. After all, she has (functionally) three husbands already. Riley, Drake, Liam, and Max are about as entangled as it gets. They live together, work together, and often share a bed.

Where do each of the members land on the “free agent” to “community oriented” spectrum? Rashad and Riley are free agents. Siobhan too. Max and Liam are very community oriented. And, despite the grumpy exterior and being annoyed a lot by Max, Drake is pretty community oriented as well.

How did each member realize they were polyamorous? Did they always know, or was there some sort of epiphany? Max always knew…  he was poly before he met Riley. He’s the one who told her about it when she asked him what was wrong with her for having feelings for more than one person at a time. Riley figured it out quickly. Liam took a little longer, but he got there eventually. What started as a one-time threesome with Riley and Max turned out to be a potent combination of physical attraction and a lifelong friendship that ended with him falling hard and fast for Max, with Riley’s enthusiastic blessing.

Do any of the current members practice hierarchical polyamory? Who are the primary partners? Oh, yes. I understand that a lot of people find hierarchy unethical but if you ask Liam, he will tell you that he is Riley’s husband and furthermore, he is the king and Riley is his queen making their marriage and the ruling of Cordonia the first priority. Mostly everyone is on board with that and it works. Not always though. Riley would say she loves each of them differently but she does not love one more than another. Max is pretty submissive in personality, and since he’s in love with both Riley and Max, he would not dispute that Liam and Riley’s relationship is primary, he’s just happy to be part of it. Drake’s biggest issue in the beginning was seeing himself as NOT primary. Being monogamous, he saw her marrying Liam as her choosing Liam over him, and it took him leaving for a while to come to terms with it. He still struggles with it from time to time, but now they have open communication and are always able to work through it.

If the polycule is hierarchical, what differs in the boundaries set for primary vs secondary partners? Tertiary partners? Drake doesn’t have other partners. Liam does casual hookups when he travels. Riley occasionally does. Protection is a huge thing that everyone must use if they are going outside the primary quad. I haven’t explored this issue much but I have thought about writing some one-shots around this issue. Since they are pretty closed, catching feelings for someone outside the established polycule might be an issue. This question is making me think I need to explore this in some one-shots.

[psycho100blog]

Ok let’s get this over with.

This was intended to be a separate post but lazy strikes while i was struggling to draw a header image for it.

Tw/ bad english as always.

So the sorcerers arrived at the location right on time. Right before she was about to slit her own throat, someone kicked her hands hard.

The knife fell from her grasp, curse energy emitting from it. Even worse, it was covered in blood, it reeks so much that the stranger can’t help but crunch his nose, can’t believe she tried to use that thing to cut into her, though she will die in the end it’s still gross.

“I take that you did this?” the stranger finally look at her in the eye, she jolted as soon as they made eye contact and looked away, can’t bear to hear his thoughts of her disgusting self, she lower her gaze to his feet and keep it still. She answered his question “Yes, just as you suspected”.

Breaking eye contact was rude but in this case it’s considerate of her not to read his thoughts any further, he nods and take a few steps torward the knife, playing with it using his feet as more people start to come over. That’s the last thing she knows before blacked out and woke up in another temple.

It was more grand and well maintained than the last one, a small trial was held to decide if she’s guilty or not, if she deserve to live or not. Most of the people present there ranged from middle age to elders, the previous stranger look out of place for he looks just about her age.

She was informed that when she was unconscious, they sealed her powers away but the ability to read and manipulate minds remained, therefore they had to put a curse on her so she can never lie, and that makes the trial go smoothly.

Though she killed most of the villagers out of rage, it’s also out of self defense, the villagers suffered the influence of the kishin, the elders deemed her innocent and was willing to provide a place for her to stay.

But the youngster protested, she killed them on purpose, he saw her attempt at suicide, she wanted to pay for her crimes through death, why not just give it to her? She get the death she deserves, we get to give her power to our god though a sacrificing ritual, a win-win.

She didn’t need to speak up because the youngster spoke her mind out loud, like a lawer she never hired. She agreed with his every sentence, accepting her fate.

To both of their disappointment, she get to live for three more years, though still getting what she wanted in the end, she have to live on with the guilt for three more years. In the same house that the youngster was in.

The youngster’s name was Shimazaki Ryou, the house owner informed. Unsurprisingly she’s also a sorcerer, in her mid 20s, lives alone until the elders showed up with that red eyed brat at her doorstep because his parents died a month prior. Thank goodness he can look after his own just fine and the payment she receives isn’t that bad. With another kid in her care, the payment doubles.

The problem is that the two bickers like dogs and cats, so a creative solution was made: make them fight instead of arguing, who wins get what they want and then let the other take the win if they ever fight again and repeat.

The moment Noriko (the house owner’s first name) heard that the new girl never go to school, she knew where to spend her money in.

Ryou is in charge of looking afer her too, just in case of her ever changing her mind and run away, he always have an eye on her at all times voluntarily.

Kiyo is a hard working gal, she learned hiragana after three months of homeschooling. She’s ready to hit the school once april came around.

The thing about Kiyo is she’s a dead man walking. Like she might die tomorrow, Kiyo do whatever she pleased. Stick her nose in things, stopping bullies, resolving conflict, helping friends, go out late, chowing down on evil spirits, all that chuyện bao đồng shit. And he have to drop his things mid-way to look after her. Death really get people acting up.

About death, Ryou think of it as the end of everything, there’s no life after death, only regret, regret for things they could have done, things they could achieve before their life was cut short. People die around him all the time, his mother died gave birth to him, the old man died after years of fighting evil forces, fighting back the curse just to fail miserably and kick the bucket before making any bonds with his son.

Not a long time ago, Ryou sat there at the old man’s funeral, not to mourn but to think long and hard about how to die without regrets, he knew the answer was to live to the fullest, but how? Eradicate more evil spirits? Getting stronger? He don’t think so, but can’t think of anything else. So the question hangs.

Until he found the answer in the girl he found anoying so much. Do whatever you want, without a care in the world, that’s freedom.

You think part two is the end? Think again!!

Thanks for reading💕

(I drew this wayyyy back in 2023 so it doesn't look very good 💀 except for young Kiyo she's adorable)

Name： 川上希佳｜ Kawakami Kiyo

Age: 30

Birthdate: November 1st, 1982

Gender: female

Height: 163cm

Abilities/power: she can gain other people's or other entity's power if she could kill them. Most of her power is sealed off so she wouldn't go berserk. With that, she can only use the first ability that she stole: mind control, but without telekinesis she will need to rely a lot on her combat skills.

Affiliation: an organization that will not be named.

Personal info:

Personality: blunt, honest, say what she thinks, mean what she says, calm and collected. Do whatever she wants as long as it doesn't have negative effects, doesn't think much of how others would perceive her.

Likes: cool weather, music (especially heavy metal), venture into ominous places.

Dislikes: people who can't keep their distance when asked.

Pros: honest, loyal.

Cons: can’t lie, too straightforward, too blunt, doesn't hold back.

Lore dump:

Kiyo grew up in a remote village, located in Hokaido's mountainous region. There was a sealed kishin there, though weakened it can still cause real harm to the locals.

The chief unleashed the seal and fed it with cattles to ask for favors. All of his fiddle faddle wishes (like better health, stay young came true) but little did he know the thing is a master of mind control, none of his wishes actually came true.

The more greedy his wishes get, the more he's willing to sacrifice human lives to it. Gradually it gained enough power to made it’s way into other villager’s mind.

A few years after the seal was broke, a pair of twins was born and they possessed a good amount of spiritual energy. The kishin wanted their lives but it patiently waited for them to grow, observing and teasing them in the process.

When the time came, it harvested the older twin first, replacing her spot in the family. The younger twin was devastated, so did her parents, they tried to expose the impostor but everyone thought the family went crazy.

They were led to a temple only god knows when it was built since there was no such thing in their village. Her father, the strongest living man of the village attempted to fight back but was outnumbered and killed right then, her mother follow suit.

She snapped, her rage bursted and so did her power. The little girl got no idea how to harness it but she was good with a knife. Just like how her father had taught to cut a deer's throat, she pierced through the entire villagers and cut them all down. The more they tried to stop her, the more they fell, the more powerful she gets. All that left was the culprit left standing, the village chief, he tried to call for help but the line was cut.

Eventually her knife made it to the kishin. You can't kill a thing that's never lived, like when your were done preparing deer meat, you eat it.

The village chief's call for help was answered, though a little late. A group of sorcerers made it to the village and found only one remaining survivor.

That's all for now, thank you for reading 🙆‍♀️💕 have a thing i made not long ago.

[turtleblogatlast]

Things I make for myself when insomnia kicks in

Just a chart about what I wanna change up and keep consistent in my art - I mainly wanna draw Raph with a tail because he deserves one, it fits too well. Donnie gets a long tail too because I didn’t realize how dino-like he looks until I gave him one, and now it’s a must for me haha.

[gatoburr0]

This might be a bit of a dark question about the fuzzy AU but.. was Acht alone when they died? I'm assuming timeline wise that side order didn't happen pre Grizz winning (unless it did) so did they spend their last few days(?) alone in the Deepsea Metro with no idea what was happening to them or did something less heart wrenching happen?

Man that is a massive plot hole I completely forgot about and did not see coming. Honestly I think I can make it so somehow Acht already met Callie before getting fuzzed up? Because if not it wouldn’t be so interesting (and most importantly there wouldn’t be enough angsssssst).

Also yeah this post is a bit sad so just sayin’.

Acht and Callie already knew each other and went out together constantly, but they got fuzzed up when they were far from each other. Acht couldn’t get out of wherever they were in, because they were just so weak, until it was too much to handle and they died, alone, nobody knew they were struggling with it.

Callie often gets flashbacks about the time they spent together, however her memory gets blurred by her instincts and she doesn’t seem to be affected by them that much anymore. But she does remember them vividly, being probably their first true love.

She sometimes stays up at night thinking about them.

And the saddest part is that she still thinks they’re doing okay somewhere around.

(Read tags)