#so for my sake as i learn to be kind to myself and be healthy and take care of myself take care of yourself

[boxwinebaddie]

an uncle nina clean-a upgayte! <3 c':

i'd apologize for all the personal posts but this is, in fact, my personal blog and i don't want to try to write/create until this is all sorted ( and i think it will be my best writing yet when it's here! fingers crossed. )

we've reached the halfway point in uncle nina *rp vc* vanquishes the evil that is her horror movie level scary depression nightmare room!

yay! <333 i am in surprisingly good spirits, have several loads of laundry going, hung a lot of clothes, can currently see my floor (epic), i made a schedule, all parts of my shift were covered, and this is just a reminder to all my friends ( especially a dear one who reached out to me and told me they are also overwhelmed) that you are so much BIGGER than the things that scare you, angels.

you can do anything that you set your mind to and i promise those things that seem impossible now will be so silly and small later when you are sittin at the summit of shit mountain w/ a smile on ur face. :)

take care, be well, be merry, be proud of ur accomplishments, big or small and know that every breath you take is a battle, baby.

so keep fighting the good fight, okay? <3

i love you and i hope you heal,

uncle nina <333

[merakiui]

angel/angler.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, stalking, non-con, non-consensual photography, chikan/groping (train molestation), obsession, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, violence, blood, death (or is it??), azul's insecurities and low self-esteem, azul’s not-so-subtle breeding kink, implied disordered eating, reader's height isn't described, but it's written that azul is taller note - to obsess is to hunger like an angler from the deep sea. living his entire life in pitch-black solitude, entranced by an angel's halo; his only purpose is to find the body that will become his lifeline and, one day, his cemetery.

entry 1: 18 April, 20XX.

For anonymity’s sake, I’ve chosen to write using a vague pronoun. Additionally, this diary will be a record of my thoughts so that I can keep my mind and senses intact. In my youth, I was prone to terrible fits of self-destructive rage, and as a result they suggested I write my feelings down to prevent any outbursts. I’m not very physical towards others. Rather, it was the harm I posed to myself that fostered concern.

But this space isn’t for my own views on myself. It’s about someone else. 

I have a confession: I’ve fallen in love with you from the train, and I’ve been in love with you for the four months I’ve come to know you.

You wear perfectly pressed suits, heels of a modest height, tights, and pencil skirts that cut just at your knees. I want to touch you, but if I do you might stop wearing skirts altogether and then I’ll never see your legs again. I suppose trousers aren’t so unattractive. They’re appealing in their own right. Everything looks good on you, though. (Nothing would look even better.)

You work in an office building. I’m not sure which floor, but I’ll know soon enough. I wanted to follow you inside, but there’s a security guard in the lobby. He always greets you, and you always smile and chat with him. You’re a kind person, so I let this pass without incident. But I can’t lie to these pages and say it’s not troublesome when I watch his gaze linger longer than it needs to. 

I’d kill him, but then they’d employ a new guard and you’d make friends with him because you’re so kind. I don’t admire kind people. Rather, I find kindness to be a double-edged blade (Is that the correct phrasing? It’s different in my hometown. We say kindness is like pufferfish—harmless until it’s provoked and then it becomes poisonous). It’s not that I look down on kind people. I just think you shouldn’t be so quick to befriend the world in its entirety.

After plenty of observation, I’ve learned that you often leave your building to get lunch by yourself. This is what you’ve eaten in the week:

Monday - A salad at a popular café. Iced tea because it was a sunny day. A tiny cheesecake for dessert. It was blueberry.

Tuesday - A wrap of some kind. Chicken? Or was it vegetarian? Sweet potato fries. Water.

Wednesday - You didn’t leave your building. Were you at work today? 

Thursday - Another salad. Water. Same café. No tiny cheesecake.

Friday - You went to lunch with that guard. I only remember my irritation and so I’m afraid I can’t make note of your meal for today. He looks at you like an obsessed puppy waiting for its owner to give it attention. I want to pluck his eyes from his sockets so he’ll never look at you in that way again.

You lead a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t help wondering if you’re eating well. Did someone say something about your figure? I’ll eviscerate them for you and then they can see how much it hurts when unnecessary scrutiny is thrown around.

It’s quite late. I want to sleep, but thinking about you has my body wide-awake. I wonder if your mouth tastes like the moonlight shining in through my window. I wonder if your body is soft like mine… Of course it is. A silly, irrational thought. You’re much warmer than me. This is just a theory. I’ve yet to feel and confirm for myself. I will in the foreseeable future.

Before we part ways, I want you to know that I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve picked up a few books and hope to learn. I’m going to practice so that I can feed you better meals one day. Salads are the worst. Fried chicken is the true meal of heaven. I’m certain you would share this sentiment.

If I were to be condemned to a last meal like those serial killers on death row, I’d ask for fried chicken. Knowing you, you’re too good to kill anyone. In this hypothetical, supposing you’re a heinous criminal, your last meal would be something healthy. Do you even like those salads, or are you forcing yourself because you must? I understand calorie-counting well enough, but if there’s one thing to enjoy in life it should be food.

I suppose that makes me a hypocrite. I ought to take my own advice.

Oh. I’m starting to grip my pen with more force and the lines have become shaky. I usually break my writing utensils if my focus strays. I’ll stop here for today. Ink is a pain to clean.

AA.

The morning rush is your greatest enemy.

Jack Howl, the lobby’s security, has suggested giving you a ride on numerous occasions. “It’s part of the reason I got my license,” he explained once, “so that I can protect those who work in this building from the rush. Not like you have to accept my offer. It’s just…convenient for both of us. Again, I don’t care what you do.”

(He does. You see through his gruff surface.)

According to him, the morning and night rushes bring out the worst kinds of characters.

But isn’t that everywhere? you think as you peer out the window, watching the city come into clarity.

Like every morning, the train car is more crowded than a sardine tin. You’re used to being pressed up against other commuters, pinned to the window or between people. You’re flattered to know someone’s concerned, but nothing has happened yet. And why would it? It’s bright outside. No one would dare do something during the day. At least, not in a crowded area where anyone could see and hear.

I wonder what I should have for dinner. I still need to go shopping. My fridge is way too empty, you think, sighing. And I need to follow up with that one author. They’ve yet to get back to me about my edits. Perhaps we should meet in the office instead of through video call… And I also need to finalize that other style sheet after the last round of editing. And then another conference… There was something else. Was I scheduled to have lunch with an author? Or was that next week? I should check before—

The train shudders as it slides into the station. Someone brushes against you from behind. Their hand is pressed against the window just near your head. They steady themselves, their body so close to yours you can hear their staggered breathing.

“Ah. S-Sorry…”

It’s next week, right? I really should check once I get to my stop. This is going to eat me alive all day.

“Mhm,” you hum, waving dismissively.

The stranger standing behind you peels his hand away from the window. A sweaty palm print is left in its wake.

“We will be approaching the next stop shortly.”

Just one more and you’ll be getting off.

A pair of bright eyes blinks back at you in the reflection, watching the city just as you are.

entry 5: 22 April, 20XX.

I’m not a social person by any means. If I can avoid crowds, I usually do. An introvert’s paradise is best spent in the comfort of their own room, after all. But if you prefer outdoor dates I can become extroverted for your sake. There are lots of things I’m willing to do for your sake.

Which is why I’ve forced myself to tolerate the train. I loathe it. It’s cramped and uncomfortable. Most days I’m not even near you, and so all I can do is stare longingly from afar. I content myself with imaginary scenarios like in the books you edit. I’ve mentioned it sparsely in this diary, but you’re a brilliant editor. Most of the novels you work on aren’t exactly my taste, but there’s something to appreciate about them. Reading through them knowing your very eyes pored over these pages dozens of times before publication… I admire your work. Immense time and effort goes into all professions, especially ones that involve meticulous touches. 

With this discussion of careers, you might wonder what I do for a living. I manage my own restaurant chain off-site. It must be shocking news for you to realize: your secret admirer is actually quite successful.

If I’m not able to provide an adequate life—no, more than that. If I cannot drown you in all of life’s luxuries, I should sooner throw myself on the beach and let this soft, wriggling body of mine dry out than settle for the barest of minimums. You deserve only the finest.

In fact, I have a room in my home dedicated to you. A private office in which you can write and edit in peace. It’s furnished with everything you’d ever need. I hope to gift it to you one day.

Remote work is very relaxing. (You’ll know this once you try it here.) When you’re boss, you work your own schedule. That’s why I’m able to fit our secret meetings into my weekly itinerary.

Today’s meeting was quite fortuitous. I felt like I’d won the lottery. Mostly because I was finally given the opportunity to be close to you. So close, in fact, that you didn’t even notice when I slid my phone under your skirt to take a few photos. Your undergarments are unexpectedly plain. Truthfully, I’m somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to learn your lingerie preferences. At the very least, I know your tights are sheer enough to show me the color of your panties.

I consider myself a connoisseur of many things, and I’ve done enough interior decorating in my time to become well-accustomed to color palettes. A fool would say your panties are red, but they’re actually maroon.

That same fool wouldn’t take another breath after glimpsing such a private side of you.

If you must know, my dear, I am excessively avaricious when it comes to the things I like. I have always been this way. I am a collector. A hoarder of secrets. I refuse to let others touch or take the things that belong to me, especially when they are wholly undeserving…

I’ve broken another pen. Thankfully, the mess wasn’t so extreme. Not-so-thankfully, I’ve lost my train of thought.

Ah. Right. Trains.

Today I rode the train, and I was standing right behind you. You were looking out the window, lost in your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice me. You must have seen my reflection, but I wear a mask and a hooded sweatshirt when I go outside. Perhaps it’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but I am very self-conscious of the way I look. Firstly, my eyes are too tired. I’ve read that many people are not fond of eyes with dark circles under them. Secondly, my face is average—unworthy of your love by my lofty standards. My hair never cooperates. My smiles never fit properly. My skin is too pale. My eyes are too blue and my pupils are abnormal. My weight is just a few kilograms above the average. I will work hard to bring it back down for your sake and for my own so that it won’t show. I prefer a slim waist, so I must stomach all manner of healthy foods for the weekend. What a pity… Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could eat whatever you wanted without having to worry about caloric intake and numbers on a scale?

That aside, there are times in which my glasses sit crooked on my face and it’s a horrifying thought to imagine I walk around looking like that! As if I’ve rolled right out of bed with no regard for my appearance whatsoever!

Perhaps the both of us share one similarity. We are vain creatures who care too much about how we present ourselves to others.

Thus, I conceal myself so that you won’t judge me harshly should you look upon me. Not like you’d do that. You were so immersed in your head that you hardly paid any attention to your surroundings. You should be more careful. What if something were to happen and I wasn’t there to protect you?

The train stuttered to a halt at the first stop, and some fool bumped into me. I should thank them because I got to brush against you. You gasped softly. I watched your breath fog the window. I placed my hand just above your head and apologized softly, and you weren’t bothered in the slightest. Oh, how I envy your carefree nature.

As a result of that stranger’s mishap, I’ve learned something new. You wear perfume. Even with my mask, I could smell it. Strong and flowery, overwhelmingly sweet. Maybe you prefer these scents? I’m more partial to mature scents, but I admit there’s a certain charm to the scents you wear. I wish I knew the exact brand. There are dozens of perfumes with the same notes as the ones I picked up, but none can compare to the one you use. I want to be able to hold the bottle knowing it’s your favorite.

I’ve prattled enough. With the length of my entries, you’d assume I was this chatty beyond the page. I’m not. I only say as much as I think is necessary.

Once again, I’m having trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m looking through the photos I snapped and the outline of your lips against your panties is lovely. I’m sure you’re just as soft and sweet inside as you are on the outside. If only I could experience it right now. My hand can’t replicate the softness or the wetness or the way you’ll probably clamp down when we finally make love.

I can only fantasize for now. What a pain. 

AA.

“It’s going to rain today,” Jack tells you the minute you step through the lift doors into the lobby. He stands straight like a soldier, his shoulders squared and features set into something serious.

“Looks like it, huh?” You glance at the darkening sky outside, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hopefully it rains after I get home. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“I’ll drive you.” He falls into step beside you. “It’s dark out and the station is—”

“It’s only five minutes away. I’ll be fine. I take this way all the time.”

Jack’s lip twitches into a grim frown. The beginnings of a sharp, pearly-white canine flashes at you as his mouth curls. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and looks elsewhere. “Do what you want. I’m not forcing you or anything.”

You smile at him. “You’re very considerate, Jack. I appreciate the concern.”

He’s like a puppy. It’s really sweet.

“W-Wha—who said anything about concern?” His face is growing warmer by the second, thawing his external ice.

“I’ll be okay. It’s not even that dark out either.”

“Still…” He sighs and cards his hand through his hair. “You haven’t noticed anything weird lately, have you?”

“Anything weird?” You furrow your brows, suddenly confused.

“On your way home. Nothing out of the ordinary? It’s the same every day?”

“Mostly, yeah. Why? Did something happen?”

“No. Just wondering…” Jack looks past you then, searching for something you can’t seem to see. “You sure you don’t want a ride? I can walk you to the station. Protect you if anything or anyone—”

You force yourself to laugh. “Come on. You’re trying to scare me on purpose. This is because I told you I’m editing a horror novel, isn’t it?”

Jack doesn’t share in your humor. Instead, his frown tightens on his face.

“While I’m grateful you want to help, I really don’t want to put that on you. It’s not your job to chauffeur me around. I’d feel bad if I made you do that. So thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”

You turn swiftly on your heel before he can protest, striding out the door into the gloomy night.

When is it going to be summer? It’s way too chilly.

You burrow into your jacket as you beeline for the station. A brisk breeze blows through busy city streets. Even though there are still people out and about, it feels strangely desolate.

Jack’s heart was in the right place, but did he really have to phrase it like that? 

You wrap your arms around yourself and hurry along. Your steps are in time with your pounding heart. A cold sweat beads along your forehead. 

Relax. It’s nothing to get worked up over. I’m fine.

Crunch.

You whirl around, clutching your bag between your arms. There’s no one in sight. The city seems eerily quiet tonight.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing’s there.

No, it’s not something that could make that sound—a noise akin to a footstep. That belongs to someone.

Is someone following you?

You aren’t going to wait around and find out. Now you’re jogging the rest of the way, your heels clicking against the pavement. Your breath comes in shaky heaves, and by the time you finally step into the station’s blinding fluorescents, adrenaline still vibrating through your veins, you notice the time.

My train—it’s already here! Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!

You rush through the station in a flurry, and the relief is tangible once you’re safe and sound inside the train car. You squirm through the throng of late-night commuters towards the window.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” you murmur as you navigate the crowded space.

You make it to the window just as the doors slide shut. Moments later, the train squeaks into motion.

I worked up such a sweat. I can’t believe I got so frazzled over something as small as a snapped twig…or whatever that was. It wasn’t a footstep. And if it was, it was probably my own.

You shake your head at your reflection.

Look at me, losing my mind all because I let someone’s words get to my head. 

The stranger standing behind you sighs alongside you. You’re about to turn around, but it’s their hands on your waist that stop you. Your blood freezes. Your spine goes rigid.

“Excuse me? Um… C-Can I help you?”

You gasp, horrified, as the hands creep higher until they’re wrapped around your chest. The stranger squeezes almost curiously. Their breath catches on an eager hitch. You peer helplessly at the window. Two blue eyes blink back.

“Wait… Hold on—”

“It’s okay.” A man’s voice. Sweet and silky-smooth. A reassuring whisper. Only you can hear it with this invasively close proximity. It might as well be a drop in the ocean that is the rickety din of the train on the rails. You reach to grab his arms, hoping to pry him off. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you’re quiet…”

“No, you can’t. Please, sir. S-Stop… Don’t touch there.” Your fingers curl around his wrists. You squirm against him, your brain blanking.

This can’t be happening… There’s just no way…

Something stiff prods at your ass from behind. You yelp softly when he rubs himself against you. You try to catch sight of his features when you crane your neck, but all you get is a faceful of a dark hoodie. He’s tall enough to block you from the other passengers, his body caging yours against the window. One hand slides away from your chest to slip under your skirt. He gropes at your inner thigh; his fingers draw dangerously close to private territory.

“Sir—”

He inhales a dreamy breath. “Perfect,” he babbles, his words muffled by his mask. “So perfect. Warm… And soft. Just as I thought.”

There’s nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re trapped here with this fiend until you get off at your stop.

“We will be approaching the stop shortly,” the woman on the intercom says, but it doesn’t give you the relief you’re after.

Three more stops and then you’ll be at yours. Three more. Three. Your stop might as well be years away.

Two fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties. You’re grateful you’re wearing tights.

His breathing is heavy. He’s mumbling filth in your ear. You hardly register it over the static in your brain.

Gross. So gross. Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want this.

A whine bubbles low in your throat when he presses down against your clit. He caresses you through the fabric of your panties. You slump against the window with your palms on the glass. Your heart is in your throat. You feel sick and dizzy. It’s too hot in here. Everything is spinning. Your heart is picking up its pace. Your hands are starting to shake. 

And there’s nowhere to go. No amount of begging will stop him. He’s all over you, pressed impossibly close—so close you think he’s trying to fuse his body to yours, becoming one mutual unit.

You want to scream, but you can’t find your voice. You can’t do anything. You can’t even think.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, twining his fingers around your trembling ones. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmh, no… No—stop. P-Please, sir, please stop.” You shudder against him, and a choked, broken sob rattles through your ribs. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. His other circles your tender, sensitive clit, and the contact elicits a whimper from you. “Even though you’re making the cutest sounds? Aah, I wanna be inside you so badly… I’m sure it’s even softer there.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that your teeth pierce the skin. A thin ribbon of blood dribbles down your chin. You refuse to give him that satisfaction. Even though your attempt to snuff your voice is successful, your body doesn’t seem to agree. It shakes in fear and arousal. When he presses against your panties next, he feels the growing damp spot. 

That’s just a natural reaction, right? I’m not actually aroused by this. There’s no way!

Just when you think he might pursue further, he pulls back. His hips are still flush to your ass. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. It’s gross and demoralizing. You’re nothing but a doll for him to get off to. Less than a person.

The train glides to a halt and the doors open. People exit and enter in a busy fashion. You stare out the window at your blurred surroundings.

When the train eases back into motion, you realize tears are welling in your eyes. They don’t fall. Not yet.

It isn’t until you get off at your stop, sprint the rest of the way home, hurry up into your apartment, and lock the door that the horror of it all finally catches up to you. You collapse to your knees and wail like you’ve just lost something precious—something you’ll never be able to get back.

You’ve never felt more dirty before.

entry 36: 4 May, 20XX.

I did it. I finally did it.

My hand is shaking; I’m so happy. No, I’m more than happy. I’m absolutely overjoyed!

You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m terribly envious. I suppose that’s why I could muster the confidence to touch you and hold you… Your body is so soft against mine. Every inch of you is beautiful. I wish I could have felt beneath your shirt, lifted your bra to see your bare breasts in the window’s reflection. This is quite the shameless admission. Even I, despite admiring you for so long, am loath to admit it.

You mesmerize me. I’m already flustered just thinking about the way your hand fit in mine when I held it… And you were aroused! I was so close to such a precious area, and you were wet for me and only me. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s a dream come true. You’re such an angel. My angel.

My dear, darling angel, I’m sorry for startling you. That was the only way, you see, and certain circumstances led me to that point. You must understand.

To be unfiltered about it, it was annoying seeing that security guard pester you. I had the strongest urge to kill him, but that’s not something you can do on a whim. Murder is like running a business, in a way. One misstep, a bad investment or a sliver of evidence left behind, and it might spell the end.

That’s besides the point. It’s hardly worth the time. 

Regrettably, while on the train into the city, I noticed you were wearing trousers today. I was right. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A pity. Your legs in those sheer tights is a vision to behold. Luckily, I have enough pictures to satisfy the craving to see you in them. When you live with me, I’ll buy plenty of tights for you to wear around the house. That way you won’t have to worry if I rip them.

That aside, you’ve started looking over your shoulder more. You talked to that security guard longer than you normally do. It’s irritating. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

I don’t want to be childish. I understand you’re stressed and nervous. Anyone would be. That’s normal. But I’m not going to hurt you. I even told you those exact words! I’m certain you would have calmed down if you could see my face. Unfortunately, I’m not very blessed in that department. I assure you my personality is far prettier…despite the ugly truths I’ve penned here.

But then those don’t matter when it comes to love. Even in love, couples are supposed to recognize and accept each other’s flaws. So it’s fine if I’m an ugly person. It’s fine if I’m a devil or something grotesque from the deepest trench in the sea. At least, in spite of such darkness, your halo will continue to light the way and I will always be lured in by your luminosity.

I can’t do much of anything right now and that has led me to feel increasingly itchy. I want to feel you again. Smell you. Touch you. I’d like to taste you next time. Part your legs or tear your skirt off and indulge in the space you keep hidden from me. I want to sink into your depths and know the shape of you just as you twist yourself to take the shape of me. 

It’s just not enough. I desire more of you. 

AA.

entry 40: 8 May, 20XX.

It’s been a few days. You haven’t taken the train since. Now you’re driven to and from work by that pest. I was overcome with such frustration yesterday that I slammed my hands down upon my desk and fractured my wrist. For the time being, until my wrist heals, I must wear this unsightly stabilizer-brace-thing and write carefully with my non-dominant hand. I like to consider myself ambidextrous, if only because it’s a talent I’m sure will impress you, as you seem to surround yourself with successful, talented people, but I must admit my lettering is rather…subpar.

It’s not as neat as I hoped it would be. Something to practice while my wrist heals, I suppose.

There’s only so much strain I can take, my angel. Are you really so afraid of me that you’ve chosen to rely on someone else to protect you? If it was funny, I’d laugh. But it’s not. It’s annoying. Must I chain you up by the throat so that you won’t run away? Must I cuff our wrists together so that neither of us can part ways? What must I do to ensure you’ll never leave me?

Every day I spend in solitude, you grow closer to everyone but me. It’s infuriating.

However, there are always silvers of hope to be found and exploited in misfortune. As a businessman, I know this well enough.

I can plan around this. I’ve taken a few photos of your house at every angle. It’s important to think ahead when making a calculated risk.

When you go to kidnap the love of your life, you must dress appropriately, no? Now should I wear a formal suit or something casual?

I have some time and plenty to look forward to.

AA.

Like always, early as usual, Jack is waiting for you below your apartment. You see his car from the window and light up at once.

It’s been two months since the incident on the train. Jack insisted you go to the police when you confided in him a week after the fact. But what could they do? A story isn’t evidence. Evidence is evidence. So to combat that, you’ve avoided public transport altogether. Jack drives you to and from work and anywhere else you need to go. You never knew him very well before this mess, and you regret not starting a friendship sooner. He’s everything you need right now: a friend, a listener, and someone you can trust and rely on.

Like always, he unlocks the door so you can put your things in the back. “It’s my turn to treat for lunch today, so let’s go somewhere you like.”

You shut the door and open the passenger side, sliding in seamlessly.

“There’s no need for that.”

Your heart skips. Your breath stumbles in your lungs. Your body tenses.

You finally look at the driver.

He’s wearing what appears to be an expensive collared shirt with a tie, but the top half is covered by the soft hoodie he’s thrown on over it. He has a mask like before, but there’s no denying his eyes. Bright and blue, deep and deceptive like the ocean, they blink back at you.

The door locks with a click.

You throw yourself at it in a useless effort to escape. The masked stranger seizes your wrist. You scream.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I-It’s only me! I won’t hurt you.” He tugs his mask down to his chin so that you can see the wobbly smile on his face. “Please don’t be scared…”

“Let go of me, you pervert!” You rip your arm free and reach for the door once more. “What the hell are you doing here?! W-Where’s Jack? Why are you—”

You choke around the rest of your words when he wraps his arms around you and yanks you over the seat towards him. You kick out like a deranged animal, breathing heavy and frantic, your eyes darting to and fro. The stranger manages to manhandle you into a chokehold despite the struggle. With his arm wrapped around your neck, he grabs a plastic water bottle with his free hand. Clumsily, he unscrews the cap and presses the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

“I’m sorry for being so rough, but I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me? Drink all of it.” As he says this, he tips the bottle and the strange liquid fills your mouth. You fight against his hold, doing everything you can to resist. He tightens his grip on you, dragging your body closer to his. “Swallow it, or I’ll slit your throat.”

Against your will, very shakily, you gulp down the solution. It tastes bitter and vile like medicine. A little salty.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, my angel, but this is the only way you’ll listen.” He swipes the tear threatening to spill from your eye. “You don’t have to cry. I’ll take you home and keep you safe. Just drink the rest of this and take a nap until we get there. That’s it. You’re almost done. I know it’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all, my love.”

“Why…” you sputter, coughing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He blinks at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because I love you.”

You can’t understand the logic there. You don’t want to.

Slumping against the seat, boneless and disturbed, you tremble when he leans over to buckle you in. And you continue to do so until you’re pulled into sleep. 

Two blue eyes follow you in your dreams, sticking to your body like old gum under a school desk. In sleep, you feel his hands on you—clinging and cloying like tentacles and the stench of brine, all-enveloping.

entry 179: 24 September, 20XX.

Summer is winding to a close. The last few vestiges of warmth are slipping away. Today’s weather was crisp. Autumn is approaching. 

It’s been a difficult few months. I’ve catalogued my process in the time you’ve spent with me, locked away in our bedroom. I must keep you chained to the bed for the time being. It’s long enough to lead into the bathroom. Until I can trust you, this is the arrangement at present.

They’re still searching for you, albeit not as frantically and frequently. I hope they assume you’ve met some grisly end so that I can finally shelve that anxiety and move on with my life. While I’m relieved it wasn’t as messy as I thought it’d be, I’m just a touch disheartened. I would have loved to watch the light fade from that guard’s eyes.

But that just wasn’t feasible or smart. Besides, what else am I to use my current fortune for, if not the props needed for that day? You call it kidnapping, and while that term is technically true I prefer something sweeter. A reunion of sorts. 

There’s nothing of note to discuss. You haven’t accepted your new home or me yet, so I will continue to wait. I can be patient. I must be if this relationship is going to work (and it will). 

I don’t particularly believe in soulmates. Rather, I find the concept to be foolish. Fate does not dictate an entire life. It is the decisions you make along the way that shape your paths. Just like in my favorite board game. I’d like to play it with you. Although I must admit I already know how our life goes. I have a few routes in mind.

You look at me with such scalding contempt when I imply we ought to start a family, and even though I’ve been victim to that look so many times it doesn’t burn any less. You just can’t see how good this is for you yet.

What else are we to do with our time if not use it to fill quiet halls with the pitter-patter of tiny feet? I have a few names in mind, but for now we’ll take it one day at a time. I’m a patient man despite my temper.

AA.

entry 257: 11 December, 20XX.

Exciting news! Though it may seem small, we’ve reached an understanding. Or so I suspect. You’re not so averse to me anymore. In fact, we take baths together, eat meals together, watch TV together, play board games together… There are so many things we do together as a couple and so, despite the encroaching winter frost, my days have become warmer! Just last night you allowed me to sleep beside you on our bed, and I held you close and you kissed me and I felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally! Genuine progress!

I won’t delude myself and say that you may finally love me in the way I love you, but a start is a start. I admit I couldn’t help myself. I returned your kiss tenfold, all over your face, down the column of your throat to your collarbone. I was gentle and careful. I didn’t rush.

I like to play experienced in all fields, but even I can’t act perfectly. How should I describe our first time without all of the shameless vulgarity? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Sex is sex no matter how you try to embellish it. Filthy and imperfect, sweaty and sticky, more effort and exercise than I realized.

You pulled me in close, pursued my mouth with the same want in mine, and it was more cathartic than anything I’ve ever known. Oh, to be kissed by the love of your life! I wasn’t aware such joy existed.

You palmed me through my pajamas and told me you wanted a family—that the idea of raising a little one was perfectly charming. I admit it’s an alluring thought I’ve had long before you lived with me. I’ve always thought you would look very enchanting while pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Even though it isn’t official yet, it doesn’t hurt to call myself your husband. In my mind and heart, we’re married. It may not seem so to you yet, but it will be.

Back to the matter at hand. Hearing that you wanted a child with me made me happy. I can’t remember if I cried. I must have because you pulled me in close and you, lying beneath me, wiped at my face and told me you wanted me to give you a child. And who am I if not the most doting, most benevolent husband? I’d do anything for you.

This must be what a predator feels when they tear into prey: a rapture so absolute and all-consuming that it covers their brain like a cotton shroud and renders every other action a hazy instinct.

It was a blur even though I was sure I moved slowly. Clothes weren’t exactly shucked. They were in the way and we had a singular goal, far too focused to remove them completely. Thus, they were pulled up, down, to the side, in whichever way provided easiest access. I closed my hands around your breasts and they feel so much softer without the obstruction of clothes.

Perhaps, rather than humans, we’re just anglerfish. Hungry for each other, using the other, a voracious relationship full of mutual benefits. If I could, I’d love to live inside you. I want nothing more than to press myself close enough to feel your heart beat alongside mine. To feel rushing blood. To turn myself inside-out just to satisfy you. Give you every little thing I can offer—brain and body—and we’d cleave through sunless waters as one, together forever.

The word ‘love’ is not large enough to truly encapsulate all that I feel for you.

My forehead pressed to yours. You kissed me once. I felt sloppy. I was sloppy. Inexperienced. We both are. Your hand wrapped around me. I told you it was okay, to do it at your own pace, to tell me if it hurts. But you kissed my every anxiety away, and in just a few strokes we were connected. Perhaps I died then and I’m still dead now.

Maybe I’m writing this from the moon or the deep, dark sea. Maybe all of this is just a long dream and I’m not even human. Maybe I’m the anglerfish stuck to your side, latched on with my sharp teeth, our lives forever intertwined. You taste of fruit and blood and every beautifully painful thing in this world.

For the first time in the many months we’ve lived together, you called me by my name. You gasped it as you curled your legs around my waist and clung to my chest, your arms draped over my neck, nails in my back. You chanted it like a song. I must have done the same with yours.

However, no amount of carnal euphoria can change the fact that I still have my reservations about unchaining you.

A deliberation for another day. It’s time to cook dinner. I’ve improved lots in the time we’ve known each other. You help around the kitchen as well. Harmless things like stirring batter or mixing a salad. I can’t trust you with actual food prep for reasons I’m sure are obvious and understandable. I try to create balanced meal plans. Now that I’m no longer eating alone and surviving off of misery, I want to show you that I’m both a great chef and a conscientious eater.

AA.

You watch the seasons shift outside the bedroom window and there’s nothing you can do.

You live life chained like a prisoner and there’s nothing you can do.

You eat off paper plates with the same utensils made for toddlers and there’s nothing you can do.

You let the same man whose touch was once so covetous pet you all over with his hands and mouth and there’s nothing you can do.

You’re stuck here forever and there’s nothing you can do.

There are highs higher than the clouds and then there are lows lower than the sea. You oscillate between these temperaments, a body thrown around on rocky waves. How you’ve yet to sink and drown for good, you’re not sure.

Today’s low has brought Azul to his knees. You stand over him, gripping the knife in a shaky hold. Chopped vegetables scatter in a rainbow on the floor. He had been chopping them so methodically, so wrapped up in pleasant conversation with you, that he hadn’t been expecting the retaliation. The blade is freshly sharpened. The perfect weapon. The perfect opportunity. Freedom just after this final hurdle.

Freedom that comes with its burdens—with a child and the law and the media and… And then what? A life of loneliness. A life spent working through mountains of trauma. A life in which you can never look at the train again.

Two blue eyes blink up at you. For the first time, Azul looks scared and weak—a small, pitiful thing. For the first time, you have him trapped beneath your thumb.

You want to bring the knife down and put an end to these cyclical days. You want to crush his spirits in the same way he crushed yours. You want him to know pain so brutal it rots him from the inside.

But you can’t. You want to and in an ideal scenario devoid of fear you would. But you can’t.

You dig your heel palms into your eyes and sob. “I can’t! I’m sorry. I… I can’t do it!”

Azul deflates with a deep sigh. “Oh… Oh, my angel, it’s all right. I forgive you. You’re just a little confused. A little emotional—I get it. We all have emotional moments. I’m not upset.”

“But I—I almost… I was going to—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t, my love, and that’s what matters.” 

He beckons you to his height; you lower to your knees. The knife is still clutched in your hands. He looks between it and you, as if weighing which is more dangerous. Volatile emotions or a blade. Maybe both.

Azul wraps his arms around you and rubs your back consolingly. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

You sniffle, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “Still… I almost did such a horrible thing to you. I could’ve hurt you—k-killed you!”

“My dear, it’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head, tucking you beneath his chin. “I forgive you.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle. “You do?”

“I do. I always will.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Angel—”

You turn the sharpened point inwards and slam it into his side, just below his rib. It pierces through soft flesh. You pull away just in time to see hurt and betrayal flash across his face, hot like the tears you’re now drying.

Shakily, his movements unsteady, he reaches for the handle. His fingers dance across it, assessing the reality of the situation. You stabbed him. You did it.

He hisses through his teeth when he tears it out. Blood spatters the kitchen floor in a brilliant, vermillion arc. Azul, knife in hand, staggers to his feet and lunges.

You stumble away in a blind panic. 

“How dare you…” He clutches his side with one hand while the other slashes through the air. You narrowly dodge before the knife can slice your arm. Blood seeps through Azul’s shirt, staining his palm red. His expression is twisted in a dark concoction of agony and anger. “I’ve shown you nothing but love and care… I’ve been nothing but patient. I’ve done everything! You were beginning to warm up to me—to this life—our life! I was wrong to trust you. Get back here—”

“You’re crazy! You assaulted me, kidnapped me, threatened me! Do you really think I’d love you after all of that?!” You yelp when his slick, blood-stained fingers wrap around your wrist to drag you down. “Stop! Let go of me!”

You elbow him in the ribs, which causes a shockwave of pain to travel through him, and it gives you enough time to wriggle free. Ripping your arm from his hold, you try to get away when he, aiming to subdue you, grabs hold of your ankle next. You feel the blade sink into your calf before you see it. A terrible cry frays your throat, torn from the depths of your chest like a flower pried from the soil.

“If I’m going to die…” He flops to his knees, wheezing. “If I’m going to die, you’ll die with me.”

“Like hell I will!” you hiss through your teeth, thrashing wildly.

Stupidly, you pull the knife from where it’s wedged in. Blood spurts from the wound, trickling down your leg in a thick, steady stream. You wince and limp towards the door. Closer… You’re almost there.

Azul reaches out with a bloodied hand, his expression utterly shattered. “Wait… Don’t go any further. Please… I need you. We need each other. My angel, my love, please don’t go!”

You tear your eyes away. He’s a monster. You’ll never sympathize with him.

Just before you can get to the front door, Azul picks himself up and wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you down and your head hits the floor with a harsh smack. You see stars. The ceiling spins above you. You try to get up, crawl away, escape—whatever it takes to lose him—but he clings to your side, holding tight. His blood is warm and wet against your shirt. The pain in your calf is sparking up your leg, joining the ache at the back of your head in duet.

Pressed so closely, the flow of blood slows. Your shirt soaks up what the rest of his already drenched shirt can’t hold.

You watch the ceiling. The light looks like a halo; it shines brightly. Azul blinks up at you, hopelessly, sickly enthralled. The tip of the knife prods at your stomach. If it pierces, you don’t feel it. You’re sore all over. Bruises are already beginning to bloom.

At the bottom of the sea, clothed in frigid darkness, there is no sense of direction.

That’s the sweetest relief while you wade into unconsciousness with a parasitic angler.

[wolfiihoney]

You need him to love himself a little.

Okay, I got another one out for my tumbler Besties! I know Toji is a horrible killer and all but lets imagine he isn’t?! Anybody? If this is a little cringe just ignore it please I’m still learning. Reblogs are appreciated always.♡

pairing: Toji x Reader

warnings: none I don’t think

wc: 1139

<<33

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t a nice man and that’s something you knew, but what bothered you the most was how he treated himself.

Toji's expression hardened at your response. "So you're telling me that you won't move in with me because I'm... mean?" he repeated, his voice laced with disbelief and a hint of hurt underneath, he could not find out what he was doing wrong.

"Because I'm rude and don't value my own life, is that it?"

Y/n let out a shaky breath, your eyes still watery from crying. "Toji, you may be 'nice' to me, but you're not kind to yourself," you protested, you’re voice filled with concern. "You treat yourself like you don't matter, like your life is worthless. And I can't just sit by and watch you destroy yourself like this."

Toji's expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. "You're just overreacting," he said gruffly, avoiding your gaze. "I'm fine. I've always been fine."

Y/n wiped away her tears, determined to get through to him. "But you don't have to be just fine," you protested. "You could be happy, Toji, and not just with me but yourself as well. Don't you want that?" Y/n said getting close. Toji paused for a moment, his tough exterior softening even more at Y/n's words. "I don't know if I even deserve to be happy," he murmured, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of regret.

Y/n's heart ached at his words. "Of course you do, Toji," y/n said, voice filled with love and determination. "You deserve more than just being 'fine.' You deserve joy and happiness. And I want to help you achieve that.” You said bending down next to his seated level.

Toji's facade of indifference began to crumble, and he let out a small sigh. "I've spent so much time just...existing, y/n it’s the only way I know how to be." he said, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. "I've never really allowed myself to care about much, including myself, I wasn’t raised that way."

Y/n leaned closer to him in the dim living room of his apartment, eyes filled with compassion. "But you do care, Toji," she whispered, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "You just won't let yourself feel anything deeper than that. I mean you care about me…"

Toji's shoulders sagged, his tough demeanor slipping a little at what y/n said. He cared a lot about y/n more than anything in his life.

He looked at Y/n with gratitude in his eyes. "You know I care about you y/n, you know that" he said, his voice low and deep.

Y/n nodded fiercely. "Of course I do." she said, her eyes shining with conviction. "And I care about you, Toji. More than you realize. I want you to be happy and healthy.”

Toji let out a sigh, his tough exterior cracking even further under Y/n's earnest words. "You're really something else, doll," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Y/n couldn't help but return his smile, her heart swelling with affection. "And you're just as stubborn as ever," she teased gently. "But I mean every word, Toji. I want you to take care of yourself, not just for my sake, but for your own."

You could tell Toji still wanted to protest.

Y/n took a deep breath, her expression determined. "Okay, Toji, how about this. I'll consider moving in with you," she said, her tone firm but loving. "But only if you promise me two things."

Toji raised an eyebrow, surprised by the unexpected offer. "Alright, doll. What's the catch?" he asked, his voice gruff but intrigued.

"First," Y/n began, counting off on her fingers. "You have to promise me that you'll work on being kinder to yourself and others. I don't want you to keep putting yourself down."

Toji let out a huff, but nodded reluctantly. "Fine, fine. I'll try to be less of an ass," he grumbled.

Y/n allowed herself a small grin, glad he was at least willing to listen. "And secondly," she continued, "You have to promise me that you'll stop being so reckless with your own life. I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt or worse because of some stupid risky decision you made, I don’t want you to change everything about yourself toji,” y/n said “I just want you to be safe.”

Toji's expression wavered for a moment, his tough facade coming back again. "I can't promise that, doll," he said gruffly. "My job is risky. There's always a chance something could go wrong.” He said sternly until he looked at You, seeing the genuine concern in your eyes, and his resistance faded.

"Alright, doll," he said gruffly, sighing. "I'll promise to be more careful. But I can't promise I won't still live life on the edge a little bit. It's who I am, after all."

Y/n's expression softened, but she stayed firm. "I know your job is dangerous, Toji, but that's exactly my point. You need to be more careful. I just want you to value your own life as much as I value it” y/n said looking into his eyes. Toji finally decided to listen to someone other than his self for once.

“Okay Y/n, I promise.” He said determined to try and love himself a little more

Y/n smiled warmly, feeling hopeful that Toji was willing to make some changes for the sake of their relationship. "I know you're always going to be a bit of a thrill-seeker, Toji," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Toji let out a low deep chuckle, his tough exterior softening even more. "Can you really blame me? Life's more fun that way, doll," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.

Y/n let out a soft laugh, shaking her head in fond disbelief. "I should have known you'd say something like that but I’m very serious toji fushiguro." she said, playfully slapping his arm.

Toji feigned hurt, clutching his arm dramatically knowing y/n couldn’t hurt him physically even if she wanted to, his body was like a brick wall.

"Hey now, what happened to being nice to me?" he protested, pretending to pout. Y/n couldn't help but giggle at his silly theatrics. "Oh, don't pretend like you don't like a little rough treatment every now and then," she teased, poking him in the chest.

Toji let out a low laugh, his eyes sparkling with affection and something else a little less innocent. "Don’t threaten me with a good time doll," he said, reaching out to pull her closer. Y/n chuckled again, enjoying Toji's playful antics. "I'll be nice to you as long as you stay true to your promises, Toji," y/n said, poking him in the chest gently.

Toji mock-grumbled, but his eyes were sparkling with affection. "Fine, doll. I'll hold up my end of the deal, if it means I get to see that smile on your face," he said, pulling you into his arms.

[juyomiao]

Only ONE - sung hanbin x gn!reader

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17 ☆ love bomb

< prev | masterlist

chapter warnings : boring , chae threatens hanbin's life at some point , ynbin being so sweet n healthy its sickening

☆ note: aaand with this very boring n underwhelming chapter , only one finally comes to an end (not all hope is lost , tho , as much as i hated writing it at times im so emotionally attached to this series i might consider a little epilogue/spin-off chapter) . AND i managed to squeeze in the haoyn beef explanation ?? tbh when i first posted it i kind of expected it to do fairly well (the boys planet smau writers demographic was like 10 ppl at best back then) but i did not expect it to do this well n singlehandedly gain me almost 500 followers . thats crazy insane bonkers . why am i getting kind of emotional writing this i dont think listening to light the way by cravity was a good idea . anyways , im sorry by the end of it i kind of lost the 'spark' that made this fic good - i couldn't even get to 20 chapters ffs - writing it was more of a chore than a fun little hobby for me n at times it made me genuinely anxious to the point of crying/getting nauseous . yes user li juyomiao is fucking insane but hey ! im alright now i promise ! jumping right into another series is probably not the smartest thing to do but im so excited abt it n i really really want to branch out into writing for other groups n the idea i had was so so good ,, i'll learn from my mistakes n write a few chapters in advance so i can take it easy n not pressure myself , tho :] thank u to everyone who supported only one until its very last chapter !! this authors note is long asf so if u read it all heres a dumpling for u my lovelies 🥟 thats it , li out‼️‼️ (im fr getting emotional good lord help me)

☆ SYNOPSIS: sung hanbin is everyone's dream guy: perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, he has it all. he's even class AND student council president! everyone loves him, and you, as his vice-president, are no exception to that. having been in love with him since you were 12, you try to tone down your feelings "for the sake of professionalism" and claim it's simple admiration for someone who objectively has no flaws. but there is one small detail you missed, in all these years admiring him: he has an even bigger crush on you.

☆ TAGLIST: (italics = couldn't tag) @hananovi @soobeaniee @idkwatodoanymore @huipinkhair @homohoons @rikitachquita @lethalvenus @sunoksunny @tocupid @deafeningtyrantmilkshake @winteringdream @ikeryn @ilovechanhee @thesiriusmap @heelanat @baekstans @blaycke @vernonfernandez @8turning @yeolsbestie @asteroidchenle @hvnyujiq @hikyeom @r4innoms @enhypen-scholarship @sulkygyu @meowrinz @rikimylove @ridinhyuck @lumixen @neohyxn @ceanairy @beomibeom @cherriegyu @sunwcloud @k4hzuhas @annoyingbitch83 @stickersim @dreamyyn @anawesomeaquatic @softforjungwoo @utopiakys @247hrs @sunswoonie @minhui896 @chanhee-hee @nxurxn @peachysohn @kpoprhia @haesunflower

[myneurospicyspirit]

If Manifesting Makes You Uncomfortable, You Are Not Alone.

I struggled a lot when I was first on shiftblr because it overlaps a lot with manifestation and loa posts, and a lot of manifestation and loa content is... well, it's not always healthy.

Phrases like "your thoughts control your reality" can be difficult for those who experience intrusive thoughts, anxiety, difficulty with emotional regulation, etc.. "You are god" can cause massive overwhelm. The 3d and 4d "imagination is the one true reality" is unfair to those who malidaptive daydream, experience derealization, experience depersonalization, and (in my personal experience) struggle with executive dysfunction.

It's sad that these phrases are hard to escape, but then to have that be the advice/topic of so much shifting content as well is just kind of terrible. Why? Because it makes shifting and manifesting unhealthy and inaccessible to a large group of people.

I, no joke, went from shifting multiple times (momentary shifts) within a month of learning what shifting was (from shiftok for fucks sake) to being so anxious about shifting that I couldn't think about my DR without spirling. It went a little like this:

Me: I want to stay in my DR longer than a moment so I will look on shiftblr for advice! -> shiftblr: "Reality shifting is just manifesting. The only true reality is imagination. Your thoughts create your reality." -> Me: that means I must only be imagining my life-altering disabilities and I can manifest them away since I reality shifted already. -> imposter syndrome, self-hatred, identity crisis, anxiety over shifting, anxiety over manifesting, being scared of my thoughts, being scared of my imagination, being scared of everything -> going back to select shiftokers, going through old amino things, lots of meditation, doing things that made me feel like myself again. -> realized there's probably a lot of other people out there who are struggling like I was. -> started this blog.

If you're feeling any of the things I was feeling because of shiftblr overlapping with manifestblr, you're not alone.

Your struggles are valid.

You're not faking it.

You are safe here.

[moriartyluver]

can we have some mtp boys (separate) on how they’d treat a fem! Reader who is on her period. You don’t need to make it historically accurate & if you’d prefer, you can make it modern au. Thank you!!!

A/N: I did this in a modern AU as suggested because I have no idea how people would have dealt with periods in the 19th century

Characters: William James Moriarty x fem! Reader , Albert James Moriarty x fem! Reader ,Louis James Moriarty x fem! Reader (separate)

Format: headcannons

Genre: hurt/ comfort, fluff

Prompt: the Moriarty brothers with a reader who is on their period.

Warnings: reader is afab, reader is female, established relationships, periods/menstruation etc.

LOUIS would be such a good partner in general so when you’re on your period? He is doing everything!

He’s already very much a househusband male wife kind of guy but it just gets so much more malewifey when you’re on your period

Oh you’re hot water bottle got slightly less warm? Louis is filling it up for your instantly

He will literally shower you in heating pads

I don’t think he’d be very physically affectionate in general, his love language is definitely acts of service and it’s very evident all the time, but if you ask to be held, hold you he will.

He’ll make you anything you want to eat no matter how strange (I always get really weird cravings on my period so if you do aswell, be prepared because Louis will stop at nothing to make you happy)

He has a whole storage cupboard packed with pads and tampons and whatever else you may use, all with your preferred sizes and brands because he’s just that caring. You never run out of pads or tampons with him around.

If any ones annoying you, he’ll be super pissed off and will actually get into a fight for your sake.

If you’re feeling emotional, he’ll be by your side reassuring you that everything’s okay. He’s a bit emotionally constipated but he tries his best for you.

If you ever need sheets to be washed or clothes to be cleaned, he won’t mind at all and he will definitely not get upset.

He himself doesn’t go out unless necessary so he’ll try stay at home with you all the time, just in case you need something (even if you insist that you’re fine)

Overall rating? 10/10 wifey material

WILLIAM probably knows more about your period than you do. Not in a gross mansplaining way but in a well educated husband kind of way

Like he definitely knows when you’re going to start you’re period based on symptoms and stuff before you get that little red surprise in your underwear. Worst feeling tbh.

He helps you learn how to track your cycle and if you’re an inconsistent period girlie like myself, he’s a great help. Imagine just getting ready to go out and then William tells you to make sure to take a pad/tampon/cup with you before you leave 💀

He pampers you too, especially if you live together, but not in the same way louis does.

He’s a bit more strict when it comes to what you should and shouldn’t eat (it’s the protective teacher in him). Liam makes you take magnesium supplements and makes sure you eat healthy even if you’re craving junk food so your cramps don’t get worse.

He’s probably calculated the perfect temperature for your heat pad/hot water bottle 😭

Probably a little more affectionate than his younger brother would be. If you’re complaining about being cold or uncomfortable, he’d put whatever book he’s reading down and hold his arms wide open for you. William absentmindedly rubs your back while listening to you complain about having a uterus

Definitely pressed kisses to your forehead while you ramble like the old fashioned lover he is 🤭

He makes sure to buy you really good quality pads/tampons and is sure to memorise which brands or types you prefer. Might slip a chocolate bar in there too. He also buys you painkillers and gives you the correct doses and everything at the right times

If you don’t feel like speaking much (he loves talking to you for some reason. its adorable) he gets a little upset but he’s a surprisingly good communicator. He doesn’t want to make you feel uneasy and bless his heart, he does all the chores and everything so you don’t have to suffer further while your uterus tries to fucking kill you

Overall rating? ∞/10 (I am totally not biased) I want to marry him idc if he’s a drawing

ALBERT is stupid. I’m sorry that’s a mean way to start off

I think we can all agree he has OCD or OCPD but he’s so sweet to you despite some seeing periods as a ‘Filthy’ thing.

You bled through the sheets? He’ll calmly help you fix that dw sweetie. If you bleed through your pants in public and anyone gives you any dirty looks or some weird shit because people hate uterus havers, he’s not called one of the most unhinged mtp characters for nothing 😊

Ok but this man knows nothing about periods though. I’m so sorry. Like you had to explain to him that no you can’t hold in the blood nor do you use your pad as a bandaid of some sort

Would probably send you one of these :(yes I made that)

He needs Louis to go shopping with him to help get you stuff because this man is smart enough for eton but not enough to know that different colours on pad packages are not flavours 🙄

Also he’s a shit cook so you still have to do that if u don’t wanna starve

Probably the most affectionate out of the brothers. He’s very cuddly with you when you need him to be (mainly because he feels bad for being so damn useless)

Overall rating? 2/10 💀

[juni-ravenhall]

updated these since the old ones were from 2020. not much is different, erased with white a bunch of options to make it easier to look at for me, changed some minor numbers that dont rly matter bc its not that easy to put those numbers down anyway.

some talk thats mostly about their relation to me and stuff about me instead of stuff about them below ⬇ (actually i should fill one of those out for me myself too. that could be fun)

i adjusted junis brother a bit focusing on just how hes like at the moment of having been rescued to jorvik, rather than thinking about his potential "real personality" if he was able to heal and become a more developed person instead of just full of trauma. i do want to eventually do something with the concept of what if he healed, or what if he hadnt been abandoned in pandoria to begin with? if hes intj like me (his behaviour is based on how i am when im completely broken down, which sadly has happened a lot in my life) then what would it be like to see him healthy and happy? its stuff id like to think about more eventually

also filled in that juni is enfj. back then i wasnt so sure what parts of her were different than me, over time i developed it and she really clearly became enfj. we both share high Ni aka my dominant function as intj but her dom Fe plays into the whole constantly being in contact w ppl thing - im also very caring and loyal, and i genuinely want to save everyone on earth and want everyone to be healthy and happy. i want society to be fixed (and ive got the ideas) and i want ppl to be kind and loving to each other. me and juni share that. but for me, i cant really handle talking to normies much bc their reality is just too different than mine. juni has no problem socialising with anyone, even if she ofc also has ppl shes the closest to and others who she might not get along with as much, its still easy for her bc Fe just has that harmonising feelings thing with others that i dont have (and being a dominant extrovert function, and not being ND, shes also not as exhausted by socialisation).

for me with low Fi i just dont really get much out of socialising for socialisations sake. its part of why i cant handle being on discord servers and stuff like that. i dont "vibe" with people in that way, i want to actually have interesting and intimate conversations and learn more about my friends, their backstory, their problems (can i help them?), their deep and genuine feelings (not stemming from copying others and peer pressure, group-think is extremely irrelevant to me and i dont view people differently if theyre supposedly in-group or out-group - im interested in everyone as an individual). for my whole life ive just been too different and for many reasons not been part of normie's society, so its just really alien to talk to normies. (as in, the abuse and isolation, the disability, the ptsd and depression, the queerness, and also just being intj, not really having a normal brain. i often wonder if the ppl who say bad things about mbti - besides the obvious "job and school mbti use is bad" yeah it is - have known what its like to just not be able to relate to almost anyone around you ever when it comes to personality. even online, even in a nerdy group, even in a place with ND people, even with queer people, even with disabled people, youre still different. you still cant relate. for me, finding out that im just a weird personality type was really important, and then i was able to study other ppl's personality types and now i actually get why people behave the way they do and why society functions the way it does for better or worse. which is a great thing to understand imo. the "omg mbti bad bc jobs and school and the tests are dumb" is one thing, but studying the functions and really truly diving into how other people function and how theyre different from you and how you all work and how the human history of the world has happened, is beautiful to me.)

as a low Fi person, with a focus on 1-on-1 connection rather than groups, i focus on talking intensely to the beloved weirdos on my computer, or posting my rambles and reading you guys rambles in return. u guys prob dont even realise, but for a lot of u, i remember like... u posting about ur job or school one time. what u posted about that u wanted to do or what ur upset about. i think about what ur ocs symbolise, why u write them that way, what part of ur personality and your lived experience, your feelings, makes u project this or that on characters. i think that a lot of ppl treat social media as a more shallow and "a drop in the ocean" type of thing, but for me, even ppl ive not talked to much on my dash, if youve been my mutual for some time, i think about you and remember things about you. if you post music i listen to it both to see if i might like the song but also bc im interested in what you like. i like learning things about people around me, the same way i like learning things about the world in general and spend obscene amounts of time studying and analysing the world both in its current and past. its an intj thing because its about my dominant Ni function, which loves analysing patterns and taking in information to process. but i dont mean that in a cold way, its an intimacy and friendship to me to learn things about you and understand you. not to "vibe" but to really know someone and see the puzzle pieces of their life. im very much about all the puzzle pieces that makes you You. im not saying its wrong to vibe and chill instead of analysing your mutuals like puzzles, just that this is something thats very different from how i am, and its been hard for me in life to relate to the way most people are.

idk if anyones reading this but some of you also prob noticed that i will pop out of nowhere and talk to you about some random thing you posted thats interesting to me, or send you a message of support if youre going through hard times. i remember when you posted that you were really sad and i notice that youre having a hard time when you post that youre sad again a month later. idk, its hard for me because im not always very emotional in a way that other people understand. i can come off as cold or quiet which in turn can come off as disinterested. but i just wanted to write it somewhere, to put out into the cosmos, that actually i care a lot about the little creatures on my dashboard and i hope that you notice even if my personality and behaviour is a bit different than what people are used to. people project mean things on me sometimes because im confident, for example, or because i stand up against things i think are harmful. because im not "loyal" if i tell a friend that theyre being rude, or im "rude" if im saying capitalism is bad. i can be projected as controlling (telling people "no" when theyre mean) or self-important (being confident in my skills and analysis) and other negative traits which is really unfair to do to someone just bc theyre different. to me i view everyone equally and i will tell off a friend if i have to, without meaning anything unkind by it. idk. ill stop rambling now bc its too much again (high Te will also do that) but i just have feelings and thoughts about that my beloved mutuals dont even know that theyre beloved and that my way of expressing myself is weird and its hard to live in society based around ppl who are very different than me in many ways. but learning mbti / jung functions was really great for me to feel understood and to understand others.

[rat-prophetess]

ASSIGNING PATHO CHARACTERS QUOTES FROM STOIC PHILOSOPHERS, PART 1/?? (EPICTETUS)

Daniil:

“Confidence (courage) then ought to be employed against death, and caution against the fear of death. But now we do the contrary, and employ against death the attempt to escape; and to our opinion about it we employ carelessness, rashness, and indifference. These things Socrates properly used to call tragic masks; for as to children masks appear terrible and fearful from inexperience, we are also affected in like manner by events (the things which happen in life) for no other reason than children are by masks… What is death? A tragic mask. Turn it and examine it. See, it does not bite. The poor body must be separated from the spirit either now or later as it was separated from it before. Why then are you troubled if it is separated now?”

Artemy:

“You say: “Philosophers talk paradoxes.” But are there no paradoxes in the other arts? And what is more paradoxical than to puncture a man’s eye in order that he may see? If any one said this to a man ignorant of the surgical art, would he not ridicule the speaker? Where is the wonder, then, if in philosophy also many things which are true appear paradoxical to the inexperienced?”

Clara:

“Why do you not know whence you came? will you not remember when you are eating who you are who eat and whom you feed? When you are in social intercourse, when you are exercising yourself, when you are engaged in discussion, know you not that you are nourishing a god, that you are exercising a god? Wretch, you are carrying about a god with you, and you know it not.”

Plague:

“Therefore, the philosophers say well, that if the good man had foreknowledge of what would happen, he would co-operate towards his own sickness and death and mutilation, since he knows that these things are assigned to him according to the universal arrangement, and that the whole is superior to the part, and the state to the citizen.”

Mark Immortell:

“Remember that thou art an actor in a play; of such a kind as the teacher (author) may choose; if short, of a short one; if long, of a long one… this is your duty, to act well the part that is given to you; but to select the part, belongs to another.”

Rat Prophet:

“Why do you care about the way of going down to Hades? All ways are equal. But if you will listen to the truth, the way which the tyrant sends you is shorter. A tyrant never killed a man in six months: but a fever is often a year about it. All these things are only the sound and the noise of empty names.”

The Kin:

“Who are you? A man. If you consider yourself as detached from other men, it is affording to nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if you consider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is for the sake of that whole that at one time you should be sick, at another time take a voyage and run into danger, and at another time be in want, and in some cases die prematurely. Why then are you troubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no longer a foot if it is detached from the body, so you are no longer a man if you are separated from other men.”

Oyun:

“Through an unreasonable regard to divination many of us omit many duties. For what more can the diviner see than death or danger or disease or generally things of that kind? If then must I expose myself to danger for a friend, and if it is my duty even to die for him, what need have I then for divination? Have I not within me a diviner who has told me the nature or good and evil, and has explained to me the signs (or marks) of both? What need have I then to consult the viscera of victims or the flight of birds, and why do I submit when he says, It is for your interest? For does he know what is for my interest, does he know what is good; and as he has learned the signs of the viscera, has he also learned the signs of good and evil?”

Utopians:

“… since these two things are mingled in the generation of man, body in common with the animals, and reason and intelligence in common with the gods, many incline to this kinship, which is miserable and mortal; and some few to that which is divine and happy. Since then it is of necessity that every man uses everything according to the opinion which he has about it, those, the few… have no mean or ignoble thoughts about themselves; but with the many it is quite the contrary. For they say, What am I? A poor, miserable man, with my wretched bit of flesh. Wretched, indeed; but you possess something better than your bit of flesh. Why then do you neglect that which is better, and why do you attach yourself to this?”

[bakedbakermom]

a prime example of why i don't fucking talk to my mother

tw my mom, weight stuff

so my mom and dad currently have some form of custody over my niece (almost 14, i don't know all the legal details, it's mostly a handshake thing) because my brother is an abusive alcoholic piece of shit and his ex-wife can barely manage to take care of herself, let alone a child.

part of their arrangement means niece spends part of every summer with her mother back in her home state. niece just returned from such a trip, and by her own admission, had a miserable time; ex-sil was working the whole time, so niece was mostly alone playing video games, and her phone wasn't working down there so she couldn't even keep in contact with her friends (or me!). she has some social and developmental issues and has shown a marked regression from where she was before this trip.

my mom's biggest concern though? her weight. with no friends and no physical activity and nothing but [notoriously obese home state foods combined with ex-sils' terrible cooking skills] had some kind of impact on her weight. how much, i don't actually know, because i'm a decent person and didn't ask, and also because my mom doesn't exactly know what healthy looks like on anyone, let alone an adolescent girl.

my mom says she's not going to address this directly with niece (hey wait is that growth?) and instead quietly replace all the food in the house with "healthier" options in the hopes of slimming niece down without her noticing (nope that's not growth, that's despicable actually).

this is the woman who encouraged me to drink SlimFast shakes in fifth fucking grade. i shudder to think what her plan is.

my mom is tall and naturally slim (though she has taken it to a truly horrifying place in the last few years, which is part of why i never see her - it hurts and it's triggering). niece takes after her mom, who is short and chubby. that, btw, is not at all a dig. i am also short and chubby. i have spent the last 20 years learning not to hate myself for that, for not looking like my mom, for not living up to her standards. for not being tall and skinny like her, like my sister. i tried, and nearly died for it.

i hate that my mom thought this was okay to gossip with me about, when she knows my history (however much she denies her role in it). i hate that i don't want her to see me, don't want her in my life, because what if she's judging my body too, gossiping with other people about me too? i don't want her in my daughter's life, either, for the same reason. eating disorders are a complex interaction of nature and nurture, and i'm fighting tooth and bloody nail to save my own life and protect my child from both.

but most of all i hate this for my niece. i hate that her bodily autonomy is being undermined. i hate that the person who is supposed to be watching out for her, teaching her, guiding her, is instead tricking her and judging her and gossiping about her. my mom always claims to be a safe person to talk to, a judgement free zone. she is NOT. "oh honey nothing you could ever say would upset me - wait you're suffering??? how dare you! do you want me to kill myself in front of you to show you how much that hurts me?" (i am paraphrasing, but not by much.)

i wish i could cut her out of my life completely without risking the contact i have with my niece. i wish i felt strong enough to tell her to shut the fuck up any time she brings up food or weight with me. i wish i could scream at her at the top of my lungs - for the sake of me now, and me then, and my niece, and my daughter, and my sister (who despite being the clear favorite did not get out unscathed either), and frankly every girl on the face of the fucking planet.

at least i won't have to talk to her again for at least a month. longer if she forgets my daughter's birthday again.

[soartfullydone]

Did you ever read ACOSF? What did you think of the twilight baby plot?

Everything I know about ACOSF I've learned against my will lol. One of my best friends kept a play-by-play of each chapter in a Google Doc, so she could spare me the reading experience but also so we could make fun of it mercilessly.

In all seriousness, I knew I was never going to subject my eyes to it directly because I hate Nessian with a burning passion. I one-hundred percent believe that Nesta deserves better than everything she got, and she should've been meaner actually. Even when I somewhat liked ACOMAF, I felt utterly indifferent to Cassian. Who is this bland rice cake taking up the space where Lucien should be? No good dialogue or anything out of that guy. And then SJM wrote Nessian into MAF with all the subtlety of a clown show, and it was over. Nesta hates him! Keep him away from her! If she doesn't kill him, I will!

Most baby plots are horrendous in fiction, and I hate them deeply also. They often reduce women to being pure idiots (why do I have morning sickness after unprotected sex? a mystery!) or they reinforce this false idea that women can only achieve ultimate happiness by having their One True Love's baby. Ah, the number of women I know who are stuck in unhappy marriages, their sense of self completely lost because being a Wife and Mother comes first! Can those things be fulfilling? Absolutely. But a lot of folks are selling a romanticized idea of both, and SJM is no exception here.

Because look at what the Twilight baby plot does. It takes away all of Nesta's power, asserts her feelings of worthlessness, and encourages her to be a breeder for Cassian, who never even told her he loved her in their romance book. It puts her firmly and forever under Rhysand's and the Night Court's boot. It confirms that Feyre has also lost all her agency, that the High Lady title is meaningless, that her found family and Court do not respect her, that Rhysand will lie to her and trap her if it serves him to do so. That, ultimately, her body does not belong to her and she doesn't have a choice.

What really gets to me, too, is that these two women have to change their bodies to accommodate their love interests, their supposed fated mates. Methinks if it was fated, if they really were perfect for each other, this kind of change wouldn’t have been necessary 🤔. But also if this really were a fantasy story with all-powerful magical beings, there’s no reason why Feyre’s pregnancy should’ve been so risky to begin with. Barring that, there’s no reason why a C-section couldn’t have been an option. It was drama for the sake of drama, pain for the sake of pain. All filler, no substance.

Everything surrounding the baby plot and Nesta's forced captivity prove ACOMAF for the lie it is, a romanticized idea about overwritten trauma and choosing the Perfect Guy because he can read your mind and tell you the things you want to hear. I mean, how else do we go from Feyre earnestly believing she wants time with her new love, that a child can wait, to a Feyre who can't think of a single gift to give Rhys besides the news of her pregnancy? (Cue him cumming to the sight of their unborn child. I will never forget, and neither will you, dear anon, I'm sorry. But I didn't write it!)

And idk, given how much pregnancy in general squicks me out despite being a woman myself, how much medical care for women generally sucks, how many people are going through such pain with miscarriages, unviable pregnancies, and unclear yet strict abortion laws... This ain't it, fam! If SJM wants to talk real-life application with her trauma bullshit, then let's talk real-life application! Because no one, not a single person, has an I Am Become Death magic sister who can pull a dying mother and their dying baby back from the brink where medicine and the law have failed them. No one can have their premie who can't survive on its own suddenly turned into a healthy six-month-old. Who does this plot serve? Neither the reader nor the characters benefited.

I genuinely can't understand how SJM, as a mother herself, could write something so tone deaf, without even being brave enough to explore this kind of fear and pain with any care whatsoever. If she wanted Feyre and Nesta to actually bond over something... Feyre's pregnancy and what that means as a human-turned-fae and a mother could have been it. That could have been something the sisters discussed and helped each other with, where they could have learned more about each other and their deeper fears as young women in a society that does not truly respect them. Both of them share in family trauma, for fuck's sake! Now here Feyre is starting a new family at great risk while Nesta is still guiltily mourning the one she lost! The dots are there!

But no. Instead, not even Feyre is allowed to learn the truth about her pregnancy until Nesta tells her, and then Nesta is painted as a villain for doing so. Feyre isn't allowed to have any real opinion or lingering fears or doubts about her fate whatsoever. Because none of this stuff really matters, especially not the trauma. It's about the fucking, rutting, animal sex. It's about the smirking males, their dripping seed, and their inability to be anything besides horny at any given moment. It's about the washboard abs. Hey, a sexy story would be just fine with me! I just wish SJM would fully embrace that (and also write it better lmao) and get off her "I'm God's gift to feminism" soap box. Maybe take off the girlboss shades, too, because ain't none of her female characters even living up to the shallowness of a girlboss. The narrative undermines and undervalues them too much.

Actually, I have to clap my hands to SJM for this baby plot. I've never seen one that destroys two main female characters in a single stroke before. That's how powerful Rhysand's dick is.

[fairycosmos]

girl hey how are you?? any tips when you get rejected from a job you really wanted?? 🤡🤡 please send me your wisdom also hope ur doing well hows georgie give her a kiss from me xx

godddddd i'm so sorry to hear this!! the job-hunting landscape is fucking awful at the minute and i know it's extremely difficult to hold out any sort of hope when stuff like this keeps happening. i feel like whenever this has happened to me that i was always told to just kind of move on and pick myself up and while that's true to an extent it's also like ok but i'm losing my mind this is the fucking worst so i think you should allow yourself room to feel like shit over it. don't judge it or try to push it away but don't internalise it or drown in it either (e.g don't fall into the trap of thinking in absolutes such as "this is always going to keep happening" or "i've got no chance of finding a good role because that was my only shot" - it just leads to pointless despair that often isn't based on anything factual.) it's ok to cry or vent or write or scream about it, it's ok that you feel bad because something bad happened. and no it won't always be like this and yes you will have ample opportunity in the future to find another version of your dream job but recognising that right now you're in pain can be healthy and good, too. whenever i'm job-hunting i always try to get to a place where rejection just feels like a dull hit and then i move on to the next, like truly i just force myself to go in with no expectations, fuck it nothings real, trying out whatever persona i think they'll like best and then leaving it all behind me when i get the rejection email LOL. but when it's a position you deeply want, understandably, you'd need some time and space to process not getting it. i rmr what sometimes made me feel a tiny bit better was going over what i learned from the experience, even if it was just getting more comfortable in an interview setting or answering a question well, and building a plan to optimise my approach and basically give myself a better shot at the next interview based on the one i'd lost out on. i could console myself by saying at least i'm growing and at least i'm building up my interview skills and how i present myself every time i do this crap. i can say it wasn't a waste of time even if i didn't get it. if they offer feedback ask for some so you can work on whatever so-called "weak" spots they perceived if any (at the same time though seriously! do not internalise anything job people say to you as like a severe moral flaw like these people would reject an applicant for not smiling enough it's truly meaningless. but for the sake of job-hunting it's just something to keep in mind.) anyway i've noticed sometimes we feel a bit better about this sort of thing if we're able to exert some control over it, if there's some actionable steps we can take like working on our speaking skills or upgrading your CV or whatever. ultimately i think it's good to remember that there are so many different ways for your life to turn out well. the illusion of one path being the absolute key to everything you've ever wanted or dreamed of is just that, an illusion. there's endless versions of the future spanning out in front of you and you have happiness in so many of them - when it comes to friendships, jobs, dating, whatever - there's no singular right way to "be." sending you a massive hug. i know words ring hollow then you feel terrible so maybe come back to this another day if you want to. will give georgie the biggest forehead kiss from you <3 mwah xx

[nimarts]

trying to figure out how to make art for myself again is genuinely, like, one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

going to art school and then freelancing full-time for two years made me beat as many "inefficiencies" out of my art as possible. for a while, making illustrations became purely a matter of streamlining my process to take as little time as possible in achieving a result. even now, I feel a little demon in the back of my head screaming at me when I try out a new coloring technique, or take a little too long settling on a sketch.

the demon is also always screaming at me about marketability. you know, like:

"how will this fit in with the rest of your portfolio?"

"what skills of yours will this piece highlight in the eyes of recruiters?"

"will the dimensions of this canvas be eye-catching on twitter? what about instagram?"

they get a little quieter every day. but not by much. not as quiet as I want them to be. not quiet enough to keep me from still being too intimidated to draw on a lot of days, because god forbid I draw anything that looks a little rough, or imperfect, or abstract. when you have clients paying you for art, there's a standard of quality to be adhered to. there's a way they expect it to look. anything else wouldn't make for very strong branding as an artist, now would it?

I don't think that my art is bad. I think I'm pretty good at it, actually. it's why I tried taking a professional route with it in the first place. I thought that with my passion driving me, I'd always be able to strike a healthy balance between making art for a living and making it for myself.

but I... I don't think that I can. I don't think that I ever can. not even in a self-depreciating way; it's just, how can I pour my heart and soul into creating just for the sake of creating the way I used to... while also making sure that I stand out amongst my peers? making sure that I can work consistently and efficiently? making sure that my art is appealing to others?

I don't think that I can get the two to coexist, personally. and that sucks to figure out. I wish I had figured it out before I'd pushed my relationship with my truest passion to the brink of destruction. it sucks to figure out now, after I've gone to art school because art was the only thing my teen self had ever loved for so long, so wholeheartedly. because it was the only thing I ever felt I was kind of good at. like it was the only thing that could possibly get me anywhere in life or make people proud of me.

I think I pushed myself so hard to make art for a living because I couldn't let go of those ideas for a really long time. of course, as an adult, I've learned plenty of different ways at this point to be proud of myself, and that other people will also be proud of me outside of my career and the material things I'm capable of producing. crazy!

even so, trying to draw now after everything feels like trying to coax a hurt, traumatized animal out of its hiding place, knowing that it used to be so sweet and full of love and life. like, I'm trying to make it understand that if it comes to me, I'm not going to yell at it or try beating it with a stick.

and... I'm making progress! I definitely am. it'll sniff my hand now before scurrying away again. and if I'm patient, maybe soon I can give it a pat on the head, too. it's an agonizingly slow process that I know I can't rush, no matter how much I want to.

trying to figure out how to make art for myself again is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. but there's a certain comfort in knowing it is something i have to do- for myself and myself only.

[cometrose]

i watched season 1 and caught up with season 2 of mashle in like a day and a half

blame bling bang bang born, that opening is so fucking catchy that i guilt-tripped myself into watching the anime because it didn't feel fair to stream without at least watching the first ep

i don't regret it this anime is like really fun im surprised

the casual eugenics??? everyone without magic is unworthy and deserves to die because it is unnatural and goes against the blessings of god?

you would think since lack of magic keeps finding its way into the gene pool and subsequent offspring these people would do more soul searching and question it!

I also think its really interesting how everyone suffers in the eugenics society, it is not just having magic, you have to have good magic otherwise you are just as worthless as the nonmages. You may hold yourself to a higher standard and think yourself superior but you are essentially still trash. Having magic isn't enough you have to be perfect all the time. Everyone suffers even the talented mages cause the slightest imperfection means you are lesser than dirt. You can't tell me this world is happy and blissful when anyone slightly out of the ordinary lives in fear of someone coming to strangle them in the night.

the story also acknowledges this there are tons of people who think they are superior to mash because they have magic even when they themselves are incredibly weak. like shoutout for commentary on racism and racial supremacy on how the weakest of people will act prideful and egotistical at the chance to walk over others.

i love mash, he's cute, i find his empty-headedness endearing i thought i would grow tired of his gimmick but I am pleasantly entertained. he's the realest guy ever

I ADORE LEMON SHE IS SO GOOD SHE IS SO PERFECT i love girls with a loose screw SHE IS SOOOOO GOOOD I LOVE YOU

finn has to be the straight man in a comedy anime and i mourn for him but he's cute as well

i forgive lance, i know i shouldn't but he's also kind of funny i'll ignore his siscon nature for my sake and his as well

dot surprised me like i was really expecting a crazy hot-headed incel weirdo but he's very respectful towards woman and for that you I rock with you! I also like how he plays the straight man role with finn like out of the boys in terms of self-awareness it goes mash > lance > dot > finn and thats neat

does mash have two dads...did that cop turn into his second father...

this is just ha*** po**** but that's okay im not mad

the magia lupus? yeah i cringed every time they came on screen I can't handle that blood purity speech at my age. I always remember reigen's (mp100) speech at the end of season 1. you're not special cause you have magic you're human just like everyone else here! GROW UP

speaking of them, they're kind of neat at least love, abyss and abel. they're cute im a sucker for rivals turned friends

rayne...i might have feelings for you

i was scared rayne was gonna be a dick when he appeared but he happily surprised me he is so sweet to mash thats great i love that and he's super cool and strong i respect that. I hope i see some brother moments with him and finn soon!!!

everyone has a specialty magic like is that innate? do they learn anything else or is their breed of magic just determined by their bloodline

i haven't even acknowledged cream puffs...thats okay too

i love how the main cast of friends is like "thank god im the only normal person here"

pretty good comedic timing i appreciate a healthy balance of humor and drama

i love how the cast moves to the beat of their own drum and i love teenagers rebelling against society! change da world my final message!

[cobiehaven]

Painting with Our Hearts — Lee Juyeon

SYNPOSIS; you despised your best friend for asking you to mentor her in the field of dating when you yourself hated the idea of being tied down to a man. but soon enough, she got the hang of it without the usage of your advice. so much so that her relationship escalated with a ring of engagement! in only 6 months? you know you should focus on your studies and get ready for graduation in dreams of starting your new life, fresh and problem free, but you face something much more scary than freedom. the side effects of this forbidden relationship you have fallen into with a man who you know you shouldn’t love..

PAIRING; artist!juyeon x fem!reader

GENRE; drama, fluff, angst

WORD COUNT; 4.7k

TAGS/WARNINGS; collage au, art major au, strangers to lovers, lowkey obsessive!juyeon, reader hates basically everyone, cheating (im sorry ily juju), strong language, tension, mentions of starving for weight loss, a bit suggestive, mentions of engagement, mention of starting a family, legal drinking, lying and betrayal, arguing, broken friendship, lowkey didn’t know where i was going with the ending, procrastinated wayyy too long on this so probably ass 😀.

AUTHORS NOTE; i felt awkward writing this because never in a million years would i imagine juyeon cheating but then again it was for the sake of the fic so enjoy.

FLASHBACK

“don’t you think you’re going a little too overboard? at this rate, you’re going to gain some kind of disorder,” you sat with your chin resting in the palm of your hand as you watched your best friend, feng, continue to whine and complain about her body.

you swore you had never seen her whip her head around so fast. “what?! overboard? psh, as if,” she waved off but was awkwardly cut off when a loud rumble erupted from her stomach. you raised a brow, her expression lowering to a pout.

“okay, and what about it?” she stuck her chin out at you.

“you’re going to get sick.”

“so? it’s worth it.”

your eyes trailed from head to toe and pressed your lips together with tension. how could she possibly care more about her image over her health?

“what are you even doing this for? doesn’t your rich family already force you to keep a healthy diet?” you asked, lifting your head out of your hand and instead, leaning back in the comfort of your chair. “which makes it even easier to loose all of this fat!” it was silent for a moment as your friend took her sweet time to check herself out in the long body mirror she had behind her overly decorated door. “anyways,” you waited for her go on with her sentence. “you know that boy that sits in the back of your arts class?”

“oh my god.”

“no, listen!”

“i’m leaving.”

“please!” she pouted.

you still sent her the most uninterested look known to man. but with one hard eye roll and loud groan, you sunk down into your chair. “go on.”

“good!” her emotion changing within seconds. “i heard he likes girls on the smaller side. the ones with small waists and tiny faces! minjoo told me so last week! i’m setting goals for myself,” she shot her brightest smile and swayed around her room as she went on and on about the likes and dislikes she had heard from others about this boy. this boy that had been the talk of the school since he moved into the fine arts department. the exact one that had many other girls soothing over him when he didn’t even do as much as even look their direction. sure, he was good-looking but was that really all anyone needed to fall head over heels for someone?

“minjoo? as in the minjoo that supposedly dated and dumped juyeon after 2 days because he was too ‘quiet’?” you raised your brow again, this time tilting your head down in a ‘you’ve got to be joking’ kind of way. “yes! her!” feng smiles. “as if two days is enough time to learn all about someone’s likes, dislikes, turn-ons, turn-offs!” you sighed. “have you even talked to him before?”

feng shook her head which only had you rolling your eyes for probably the 5th time this morning.

“i was planning on asking you to help me approach him..?” she tangled her fingers together in front of herself, shrugging up her shoulders in a pleading manner. “i know it’s a stretch to think i have a chance with him but please!” she begged. “why me?” she knew how much you hated things like this. much less men. you’d never be able to understand them. “because you love me~!” she shot you the biggest smile as she took your hands into hers. you gave her a playful and shocked expression, “ain’t no way you just pulled that card on me.”

her glued on poker face seemed to prove you wrong.

pushing her away, you stood up and crossed your arms in front of her and with one deep sigh, “what do i get out of this?” you asked.

payment was expected for hard and excruciating work.

“i’ll do all of your house work including running hall errands for you during the school day for a month!”

“two months.”

“a month and one week?”

“listen, i’m getting involved with a man for you.”

“okay okay!! a month and a half.”

“cool, now go get me a soda.”

“what?! but i said during the school day!” she complained while you wandered over to the bed. falling down into it with a satisfied grunt. “and technically we have class in 30 minutes, so you better get the drink quick so we can walk there in less than a hurry,” you replied which had her shuffling her way to the door.

PRESENT TIME

you didn’t really know why you agreed to this. why you didn’t just gather up everything in you to just tell her no and get on with your life. it would have been easier for you. without feng around, it was awkward to see juyeon’s face around. neither of you went out of your way to say hi to each other but you could feel his eyes staring into the back of your head during classes.

without feng, you would have no business with juyeon at all.

so why was he the one to invite you to your departments celebration party for winning 1st in competition during winter break? saying that he needed to discuss something with you in private?

especially when he was already dating your best friend?

what exactly was he in need of telling you so badly?

sucking up a large sigh, you swung open the door to the korean bbq place everyone had agreed to meet at. you were a little surprised by the amount of people this place agreed to let in but it seemed to be the class presidents last resort since many in the class were still too young to go clubbing. luckily, not everyone showed up.

“y/n!” a familiar voice called, gesturing you over to the table.

you sat at the end, not wanting to be squished in between anybody who reeked of alcohol and grease. you insisted on getting a table for yourself but the staff wouldn’t let you as they were already finding a hard time serving your department as it was. maybe it would have been easier to just not come. while juyeon was the one to invite you, he didn’t seem to be anywhere around the tables that were already set.

“hey, where’s juyeon?” you asked the girl sitting next to you. “i think he said he was running a bit late.”

speaking of juyeon, your head whipped around when you heard your department cheering for his arrival. he looked winded and messy coming in through the door but he shot a happy smile when everyone was glad to see him. you rolled your eyes at how obnoxious everyone was being.

unfortunately, you had to give up your edge seat and slide further down the booth for him to sit down. it was the only space that was left.

yeah, you really shouldn’t have come.

claustrophobia was overcoming you as you could feel juyeons cold pressing against your side. “i’m glad you could come,” he turned towards you. “i’m glad you could come late,” even without looking his way, you could feel his expression falling into a frown.

it was silent amongst you two. you really didn’t have much to talk about with him considering you only knew each other through feng. only chiming in when the guys across from you both had interesting things to comment on. the reek of alcohol became stronger as you started to get more and more out of it with each sip.

it went on like that for a while before your attention was caught by the girl next to you suddenly banging her hands on the table. “soojin?” you called out her name over the booming music. “are you okay?” you asked half-slurred. before you knew it, she had turned towards you and spilled whatever she had eaten that night all into your lap. the guys around the table all backing away with disgust and shock. but you were paying no attention to them and only at the pool of vomit seeping through the thickness of your clothes. your eyes trailed up to the girls in front of you before she slurred some “im sorry”’s before slumping back against the booth.

“oh my god, i think im going to throw up,” one of the guys across from you slapped his hand over his mouth. to which the other guy had yelled out an abundant of curses for him not too.

you were still in shock. you could feel the warm liquid seeping far enough to touch your bare skin, that alone making you want to wake the girl up and sock her right in the nose for putting you in such a disgusting situation. if it wasn’t for your hazy mind, you probably would have. suddenly, you felt a pair of hands on your legs making you nearly jump out of your seat, but you just tensed when you realized it was juyeons, scraping the chunks off of your pants with a thick handful of napkins. it wasn’t long before he grabbed your hand and dragged you to the mens bathroom, not even having the mind to argue with his actions.

“im sorry, y/n.”

was he apologizing for touching you? or forcing you into the bathroom with him? or maybe inviting you to this overly crowded korean bbq?

“i have spare clothes in my car. do you think you’re okay enough to wait here while i go get them?” he asked, looking into your hooded eyes. “im not fucking five. i don’t need your help,” you shrugged his protective arm off of you and headed for the door. “wait!” juyeon grabbed your wrist, making you whip your head around. “you have shit all over you. please, let me help you.”

technically he did get you into this situation. even if he didn’t know something like this was going to happen.

“fine. just hurry,” you huffed. “its already embarrassing enough just standing here in front of you like this..” you mumbled as your arms coiled around your body.

just as so, juyeon didn’t take long. he came back to hand you a change of clothes, even adding a pair of socks to the pile. patiently waiting outside the family stall as you took your sweet time changing, you grumbled with each peel of damp clothing off of your body.

“juyeon?” you called.

“yeah?”

“can you hand me a wet paper towel?”

within seconds, you shuffled over to take the wet cloth out of juyeon’s hands from under the stall door. “thanks.” it took you a while to wipe yourself down, trying not to stumble over every time your mind started to give in to the heavy alcoholic haze overcoming you but soon enough, you flushed the paper down the toilet and shrugged on the loose fitting clothes into your body.

“please, let me take your clothes home and wash them for you,” he insisted the moment you unlocked the stall door. his eyes locking on his oversized clothes quite literally engulfing your figure. it took you a moment to register his staring, much less his words. but once you did, you just scoffed and crossed your arms over yourself. “stop staring you perv,” you fixed a hardened gaze on him. “forget it, just, thank you for the clothes.”

“wait!” he stopped you after you had pushed past him.

“ugh, what now?”

“how are you getting home?”

“why do you care?” you asked with a raise of your brow. “because if you plan on driving home, you’re way too drunk to be driving,” he exclaimed. “its fine, ill just take a taxi or something,” you said before rushing out of the bathroom, this time not giving him the time to stop you. “oh? y/n? why did you just come out of the boys- hey!” you pushed past your classmate rudely just to get out of there. you could care less about the many voices calling for you, not wanting you to leave so soon. you were done with ‘parties’.

you just wanted the embarrassment to stop.

the next few days seemed to go by normally. along with the next month or two. nothing out of the ordinary seemed to happen and primarily just went back to your daily school work and boring life. feng and juyeon were together per usual and you stayed silent for a lot of their interactions. the only times you seemed to see juyeon without feng around was whenever he happened to pass by you in the halls or in class but other than that, it became a common occurrence that juyeon joined in on you and feng’s time together. it annoyed you a lot, especially when feng never gave you the option to leave when she wasn’t even paying attention to you in the first place.

actually, the annoying part wasn’t the two of them together, necessarily, it was more so juyeon that wanted to get your attention outside of that time that started to get you annoyed of the times when he was with you and feng. for example, the multiple times he begged you during class to lend your notes to him, or the times he asked you to do the bare minimum like open his milk carton for him during lunch, or even the time he made you walk 5 blocks down the street during a heatwave just to return his clothes to him while he was working.

as much as you hated him for wasting your time, the more you started to have less of a reason to want to hate him with the efforts he made in occupying your time.

but of course, at the end of the day, he still belonged to your best friend.

you found it easier to block them out with the help of your headphones and laptop. your music and videos was much more worth it than some guy and his obsessive girlfriend.

oh, you mean, your best friend.

you sat quietly as you were trying your best to block out the distracting noise coming from the two of them, focusing more on your homework that was giving you more of a headache than their love language. you brushed it off for as long as you could before you sighed and stood up, the scrapping of your seat against the floor made feng crank her neck towards you.

“where are you going?” she asked. “home, i can’t focus here and my head is killing me,” you replied, packing up your stuff as the enormous pile of books weighed you down everyday.

you failed to notice juyeon’s visible concern.

“oh okay,” she shrugged.

“feel better.”

you and juyeon shared eye contact with each other for a few seconds before heading off. you didn’t know why but something about that sounded like it had much more of a deeper meaning than just a get well wish.

when you got home, you were relieved with how still your house was. it started to subside your headache. but your relaxation was cut short when you felt a buzz in your pocket.

juyeon:

that’s quite the amount of stress you have packing on

you:

what?

juyeon:

the books

you’ve been working non-stop on papers for the past three days, you really deserve a break

you:

i’ll be fine, it’s nothing to worry about

you stared at the messages for a few seconds before realizing he probably wasn’t going to say anything else. putting your phone to your side, you sat up on your bed with a deep sigh. “i’ll probably just take some pain killers and work some more..” you mumbled to yourself, rubbing your palms over your tired eyes.

another buzz caught your attention.

juyeon:

meet me in 10 in the loft.

the period scared you.

15 MINUTES LATER

you arrived in the loft as told, figuring that there would be no reason to ignore it when you knew he’d probably just come to your house if you didn’t answer.

he was really confusing sometimes.

“juyeon?” you called.

the lights were still off. had you gotten there too early? surely not, a walk from your house to the studio was 15 minutes, not 10.

“juyeon, this isn’t funny. let’s just make this quick.” you called again, this time stating your conditions. you were about to get fed up with waiting before you suddenly felt something cold splash onto your back, making you yelp and jump forward, whipping your head around in the plain darkness. you could see a dark silhouette and quickly made it out to be juyeon’s slender figure. “what the fuck?!” you cursed before the lights were flashed on. your eyes having to take a moment to adjust to the sudden change.

he was laughing. crying, even. looking at yourself, you realized he had thrown white paint on you seeing as he still had the bucket in his hands.

you were not going to let him get away with this.

“you little shit,” you cursed again before taking all of your anger and grabbing the first bucket you saw and prying open the top, chasing juyeon around the room and successfully whisking the liquid onto him. you both when back and forth, the challenge becoming so much that you soon started to forget about your troubles, about your work, about feng and even the ones deep down that you didn’t want to admit.

this was the most fun you’ve had in a long, long, time.

“please! have mercy!” juyeon cried with added laughter as you continued to pour, purple, paint onto him. “you’ve brought this upon yourself,” you laughed before he tried pushing you away from him, somehow fully knocking you over in the process and bringing himself down along with you.

he shielded your fall with his hands behind your back and head but once he came to realization as to what position you were in, his eyes widened and his whole body tensed up. yours did the same.

it was silent. the short few moments of you both having fun was turned into long and breathtaking moments. not to mention how close he was to you, what it felt like to have his fingers tangled in your hair, what it felt like to hear both of your hearts beating the same cadence in this silent room. you watched as his eyes trailed from yours, down to your lips, and then back up. the look he was giving you was almost inviting but also scared.

you really didn’t know how to describe this feeling.

in a panic, you broke the moment to trail your hands up the tiny space between you both to quickly smear what paint you had left on your hands. the colors mixing into his caramel tone and making him not any less beautiful than he already was.

maybe you were starting to see what girls saw in this man.

“hey..!” he whined, smacking your hands off of him. he squinted his eyes at you challengingly, but just gave you a sly smirk instead.

it was hard to believe this was the same timid guy from a few days ago.

helping you to your feet, he ran his fingers through his dry but, at the same time, wet, hair. “how do you feel?” he asked.

“definitely better, no more headache.”

“that’s good. that was the goal,” he smiled and fixed himself up. just as you were about to straighten your clothes, you paused and looked up at him. “wait, you brought me here just for that?” you asked.

“don’t get mad. i was just trying to-“

“i’m not mad. it’s just.. i thought you wanted to talk.”

“about what?”

you rolled your eyes at his stupidity.

“about whatever it was you wanted to tell me a couple months back? you never ended up telling me.”

it took him a second to try and think back on it, but eventually he did.

“yeah because you left before i could!” he protested. you giving him yet another eye roll. “well i’m here now so what was it?”

he hesitated. you could tell by the way he was looking around at anything but you that the same timidness from before was back.

“juyeon?” you called out to him, awaiting his answer.

“feng proposed to me.”

the silence was long. extremely long. nothing could express the amount of shock and unknown pain that you were overcome with. you swore you felt your heart sink down into the pit of your stomach.

“what..?” you refused to believe it.

“she proposed to me. a week ago. after 5 months of dating and she’s waiting for my answer on our 6th month anniversary.”

“which is when?”

“…today.”

you wanted nothing more than for the world to open up from underneath you and swallow you whole. what was feng thinking? what were you thinking? how could you get flustered over some boy who you barely know? especially one who was about to get engaged to your best friend. one that you helped your best friend get together with!

“well, what are you going to say?” you asked, you could feel your blood starting to boil with anger. but not knowing where exactly it was coming from. but you tried your best to sound calm and collected as your biggest fear was probably him finding out that you were lowkey crushing on him, this way.

“i don’t know yet,” juyeon murmured. “i was going to ask you.”

“why do you need to ask me for advice on your own personal problems?”

“because.”

“because?”

“because!”

“i’m not following.”

you could tell he was starting to get riled up. “because i’m not sure if i actually like her!” he screamed. to your own shock, you could tell he was holding in those exact words for a long while.

“so.. you played her?” you weren’t sure wether to feel relieved or pissed off about that. “or i guess.. playing her?” you switched to present tense.

“i don’t know..” he ran his hands down his face in frustration. “i just.. im not sure if i’m ready for marriage? but knowing her, if i reject her, she’ll think i don’t love her anymore and i don’t want to have that sort of confusion within our relationship all of the time. she already thinks i talk to you too much,” he sighed.

feng thinks he talks to you too much? since when has she ever been around to see the both of you have a consistent conversation other than about school work?

whatever, you didn’t want to worry about that right now. you had a boy stressed out of his mind right in front of you. “juyeon, it sounds more to me that you’re just in a toxic relationship.”

it was silent for a moment as all he did was just stare at the ground but as much as he didn’t want to agree with you, he knew you were right. “what should i do?” he asked. but he already knew what your answer was going to be… and you didn’t want to give him that kind of heartbreak. “do what you feel is right,” you said softly. you hesitated but after a while, you snaked your arm around his back and rubbed light circles onto his shoulder blades. he lowered himself to your height and buried his face into your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you into a deep hug. he didn’t cry, but you could tell he was confused and hurt. this had been bothering him for quite some time.

cutting the relaxing hug short, you were met with his eyes as your own filtered with confusion. “are you feeling better now?” you asked. “no,” he replied. as you were about to open your mouth to respond, he quickly furthered your confusion as he captured your lips into a soft kiss. your eyes growing wide in utter shock as you didn’t know what to do with your hands. much less your anything else. this was the first time you had ever kissed someone. or.. be kissed by someone. nonetheless, with your little knowledge from the various kdramas you had watched in your time, you closed your eyes and tried to act like you knew what you were doing. luckily, juyeon sensed your embarrassment and swiftly led your arms around his neck as he did all of the work for you. leading the kiss into soft multiple ones that had you getting the flow down instantly. after about a minute or so, you broke away, or maybe he did. you couldn’t tell with how hazed your mind was right now.

“are you.. feeling better now?” you asked for the second time.

you didn’t get an answer.

“did you have a talk with feng?” you asked juyeon as the two of you walked into class together, having conveniently run into each other in the hallway. “i don’t want to talk about it,” he sighed out, though it sounded more of like a groan. luckily for you, you sat right in front of juyeon so you didn’t have to cut the conversation short.

“you should just be honest with her, it’s the better option.”

he agreed yet he still looked so troubled.

“don’t tell me you were planning to do it through text-“

“do you really think that lowly of me?”

well… considering he got himself into this whole mess…

“please don’t just bare through it when you know it won’t work out. that’s possibly the worst thing you could do,” you sighed, reaching your hand out to place on top of his in a comforting way. but he snatched his hand away with such force that it had you even more confused than before.

did he not want to be around you? if so, then why did he kiss you?

“am i just that bad at kissing?” you said half-heartedly but you were immediately shut down by juyeon who hushed you. “don’t say it so loud!” he whisper-yelled at you. you understood that he didn’t want anyone to know that he technically cheated on his girlfriend—which you still weren’t sure if you were happy or upset about—but he didn’t have to reject your comfort when you tried to give it to him for his sake. “then what is it?” he rubbed at his temples, “y/n, i think she already knows.”

juyeon sighed and stared down at his fingers that sat in his lap. when he felt like he could muster up the courage to tell you more, he glanced around one time just to make sure no one was within close enough range. “today, before school, she told me that as soon as we got married with our parents approval.. she wanted to move abroad and start a family. she kept going on about how much of a future she wanted with me and i wasn’t sure how to respond to it all. i got so stressed out that i ended up snapping at her and walking away.” he shifted awkwardly in his seat as if he was waiting for the moment his girlfriend would walk in through that door despite not sharing a single class together. “she didn’t chance after me like she usually does when we have arguments,” he said.

for as long as you knew feng, she had always been an overbearing person. she was a very ‘up in your face’ kind of girl and that’s what made people either really like her or really hate her.

hearing about how she bombarded juyeon with such a wide topic, you could only imagine how he must of felt.

luckily, she knew her place when it came to conversations with you. it was a blessing.

“that’s good, though!” you exclaimed. “it would make it easier for you to break it off.”

“i just cant stop thinking about what she’d say if she found out i kissed her best friend on the day of our 6 months,” he sighed and cupped his hands over his face, leaning forward onto the desk.

your attention was caught when you felt a buzz in your back pocket. pulling out your phone, you were greet by a message from your best friend. except.. maybe said best friend, didn’t want to be best friends anymore.

“oh no..” you trailed off.

“what?” juyeon asked, peeking at you from between his fingers.

you hesitated for a long minute but eventually flipped your phone around enough for him to view the screen.

.

.

.

feng:

[sent attached photo]

once a cheater, always a cheater.

fuck you both.

proof read by @hwasluvr

© cobiehaven 2023

[ploompkin]

FELLOW RESEARCH ETHIC FAN RAAAHH

(Do you have any headcanonns for both of them? I'm extremely desperate for content of them please I am begging like a small victorian child for bread)

OMG HELLOOOO DO I EVER—

(I tried to restrain myself a little, but long post incoming)

- Faba— (Chaotic) Bisexual

- Colress— Grey romantic and grey sexual (rarely experiences romantic attraction, and doesn’t experience sexual attraction without romantic att. first and gender blind when he does).

- One of the reasons they work so well together is because they are both obsessed with their work and therefore understand and respect the other’s dedication to it and are both content to put their relationship second, unless it’s urgent. Faba’s more concerned about his career, and Colress is more concerned about science for the sake of discovery, but as the two slowly become friends they learn to see the other’s point of view and respect one another’s vision. Colress helps Faba get back the enthusiasm for his work that he had lost over the years and to go with the flow a little more, and Faba helps Colress stay organised and focused. They make a fantastic team both as scientists and a couple because they balance each other out so well.

- The slowest of slow burns. Neither of them confess first. It just sort of happens naturally… they go from acquaintances to friends, to close friends all the while crushing on one another. At first they both fight against their feelings because they’re worried it’ll distract from work and also they both feel overwhelmed, but over time they settle into them. Both are vaguely aware of the other’s interest which leads to tension slowly building up until one day they’re hanging out and just one, single factor (something cheesy, like they accidentally touch hands, or they’re both a bit tipsy, or they’re on a walk and they end up in a romantic setting) leads them both to just lean in aaaand…

- Colress isn’t very good at kissing (sorryyy). At first, anyway. It makes sense, given my hc that he has very little experience or practice because he just wasn’t motivated to explore romance. Luckily, he’s a fast learner and because of Faba’s whole inferiority/superiority complex (it’s both, c’mon), he’s actually kind of relieved that perfect, tall, blonde and handsome Colress doesn’t know his way around that kind of thing. Faba does very much take the lead during the early stages of their relationship since he has more experience (I hc he used to be married but then divorced), and Colress is grateful for that.

(More under the cut)

- Colress is a bit of a bad influence on Faba, lol. We know Faba is canonically morally grey on his own (genetic experimentation, his being prepared to freeze the unwanted Type: Nulls, Rainbow Rocket, etc.) but Colress just enables him further. In the beginning of their relationship they’re both very cautious about revealing the more distasteful aspects of their work, worrying about the other’s reaction. Little by little the truth comes out though, and they’re both relieved at their partner’s willingness to accept/excuse how far they’ll both go for their work. We’ve got to be honest here: they’re not exactly good people, but because of their shared values and complimentary personalities they’ve managed to create a healthy and loving relationship for themselves. Too bad that’s just made their scientific practice even less morally viable as they encourage one another in the worst way. To everyone else they’re a nightmare. To each other? They’re ridiculously sweet.

- I think Colress would actually LIKE that Faba’s sharp with other people (and even to himself when they didn’t know each other well). I can see Colress being drawn to more feisty and outspoken individuals because he likes people who speak their mind. There’s much more to my interp. of Faba than that though, and there’s a reason he grew up to be such an asshole. It’s complicated, because Faba exaggerates his sense of self importance as a coping mechanism to fight against his deep insecurities, but he also… kind of believes it? His way of thinking is very messy because reasons that I could write about here, but won’t because it would turn out way too long haha. But Faba’s rude, spiteful, insecure and messy and complicated, and Colress knows this and loves him for it all the same.

- Faba hates PDA it makes him sooo embarrassed. If there’s a quiet corner where he’s sure no one can see them then he’ll allow a quick smooch though. … Unless he’s drunk. He’s very openly affectionate and flirty with Colress when he’s had a few. Speaking of, they’re both lightweights lol, Faba more so because he’s smaller and even more slightly built than Colress. They both like wine; Faba prefers red, Colress prefers white. Back to the original topic, even though Faba hates PDA, he’s still incredibly proud of his partner and is constantly praising him and bringing him up to other people, because he NEEDS absolutely everyone to know he’s dating such an amazingly intelligent and beautiful man. He thinks he’s subtle about it. The employees at Aether Paradise will tell you otherwise. At least he’s so distracted by prattling on about his partner that he has less time to belittle them, they suppose?

- There’s a massive height difference between the two. My Faba’s 5’4”, and Colress I see as being 6’2”. Before they started dating Faba hated this, because he saw it as something Colress is superior to him in. After they start dating though… Faba admits he finds it very attractive, and finds being held against his partner’s chest is very calming for him because when Colress hugs him, Faba’s so small he basically just disappears into him. Hidden from judgemental eyes… he also really likes it when Colress wraps his coat around him at the same time- it feels just like a weighted blanket. My hc for Faba is that he’s autistic and has anxiety (both of which he denies because of internalised ableism), so the pure sensory bliss of this helps him if he’s having a rough day.

- Faba is a morning person… Colress isn’t. If they need to go somewhere early Faba will wake Colress up with breakfast in bed and coffee in an effort to make it easier for him <3 he finds it very cute when Colress gets all whiney since he’s usually so composed and quiet when something irritates him.

- Faba’s love language is more about physical affection and gift giving, and Colress’ is more words of affirmation and romantic/sacrificial gestures. The longer they’re together though, the easier Faba finds it to voice his affection, and the more Colress initiates psychical contact. He’s learned that Faba especially appreciates massages- foot massages because wearing those fuckin’ heels wedges day in day out must take its toll, and head massages are his favourite. Basically, he’s a cat. Likewise Faba learns that one unexpected ‘I love you’ is enough to get Colress to step away from his work and join him, which is a technique he now uses whenever he wants attention.

- Colress prefers a more submissive role in their relationship, and Faba tends to be more dominant. For Colress, submissive doesn’t necessarily mean more easily flustered though. He’s very good at keeping his composure and enjoys getting Faba hot and bothered with sweet/dirty talk, teasing him throughout the day until he breaks. (Cough,, power bottom)

- Faba is very easily jealous, which is unfortunate for him because Colress is both polite and charming as well as conventionally attractive and so gets quite a lot of attention- especially at research conferences and the like where he’s dressed up very fancy and pretty. This is one of the rare instances Faba might engage with PDA. He gets very possessive if another flirts with his partner, and Colress actually enjoys that- in part because he doesn’t appreciate the attention and is relieved when a very ruffled Faba chases off whomever is bothering him, but also because he just likes when Faba makes a show of claiming him. Colress is far harder to make jealous which used to upset Faba, before Colress reassured him it’s simply because he trusts him so completely he hardly sees other people as a threat. When he does though, he gets very moody and sulky about it. He’ll generally leave whomever is flirting with Faba alone (which is rare because Faba is well, Faba) unless he decides they’re getting too friendly, or his partner seems uncomfortable. He knows his height and manner of speaking makes him intimidating to some, and he’ll shamelessly use it to his advantage in those situations.

I COULD LITERALLY KEEP GOING FOREVER but I’ll stop now before I make it way too long. Thank you for enabling me fellow shipper <3

[silversiren1101]

💎💎💎 - for Mino from Hemlock!

[Thanks for the ask! - I did some extra research through your tags so hopefully I got it right!]

Minovae smiles, then looks a bit guilty as she answers. "I know her far less well than I'd like to, and that's a shame. Everything I've seen and learned of her tells me we're more alike than not." She lowers her voice, and looks around to see no one else within earshot. "Honestly, Hemlock is how people should be. She's the type of model, ideal character that the Orders would consider all the signs of a successful, lawful, healthy society. I still stand by my beliefs that the Orders strive towards obsolesce and we need to embrace it, and Hemlock gives me hope for that."

She waves her hands, tail rattling, acknowledging the awkwardness of that statement. "I know I shouldn't say such things! That people should be one way or another, but, truly, if there were more Hemlocks the world would be a much better place. An ounce of that sense of accountability and care for others spread across the people would disband us faster than anything." With a chuckle, she notes, "It's funny she has the name she does, honestly. Her and Camellia should swap."

An even grin and light in her eyes mellows as she sighs. "What more can I say? Her sense of duty is beyond reproach yet balanced with a kindness that keeps her from falling into the kind of zealotry that gives my fellow Hellknights a bad name. She has a good head on her shoulders and doesn't blindly follow written law for the sake of it. She's brave. She's funny. She knows how to have a good time and can spread a smile like an infection! Even Regill thinks nothing but highly of her, and that says a lot."

A tense moment of silence passes. "Honestly... I'm a little jealous of her. She makes it seem so easy... I know that's probably not the truth. That she probably struggles as much as I do, duty and kindness, justice and mercy, reason and decisiveness... Balancing it all without losing yourself... But damn does it make me second guess myself sometimes, that maybe I'm not so naturally as good a person as I think I am if it's so hard sometimes. She seems so sure of herself and I always feel just about to drown..."

She shakes her head. "Don't tell her I said that. She's a beacon of hope for damn near everyone and I wouldn't dare compromise that just because of my own self doubts, you hear?! Ugh... I really should just, go talk to her more. Maybe it'll rub off on me in turn. Would the dog be a good in? I do love animals..."