#this is an opinion piece so i better not catch nobody going

[salixsociety]

Love Magic and Ethics

On why you can't pick and choose which forms of magic are ethical and which are not based on fate and free will alone.

Love magic in particular has held a contentious position in the contemporary witchcraft community for some time now. A topic of frequent debate, those practicing it are often accused of taking people's free will or even such heinous things as committing 'spiritual assault'. I would like to examine today why people consider love magic unethical, and why I think that opinion is fundamentally flawed, based on cultural and cosmological evidence viewed through a modern lens.

It doesn't take much searching on social media to run into strong opinions against love magic. The common consensus among contemporary practitioners these days appears to be that love magic as a whole is evil and cannot be practiced in ways that aren't inherently extortionary. Many online communities, especially closed communities such as those on Discord, have strict rules against the promoting or even mentioning of love magic. I've seen many unsavory words used to describe this practice: coercion, control, assault, manipulation, abuse.

The logic behind these claims is more or less the same everywhere, the claims ringing that love magic overrides people's free will, that it messes with fate, that it's forcing someone to fall in love against their will, that it creates toxic relationships, and my favorite: that it creates karmic debt.

I'd like to knock the latter out first: if we are to discuss the ethics of magic, let us not be culturally appropriative while doing so. Karma is a Dharmic concept, as seen in such faiths as Buddhism. It has nothing to do with witchcraft, and unless the practitioner is Buddhist, they do not need to worry about Karma. As I understand it, Karmic debt is also plainly made up, there's no such thing within the faiths that the concept originates from.

But what about the rest? What about free will, and fate? Free will is a finicky topic, and it falls apart quickly when inspected with some care in the context of magic. I am not here to take anyone's belief from them, or here to state that free will does not exist. But do consider what is and isn't free will, and how you think free will works. If you can strip someone of their free will, do we really have any? More importantly, there's no universal law that states that love magic is stripping someone of their free will. How many times have you done magic intending to command someone to do something and watched them do it like a robot? Never, I imagine, both out of a lack of desire and out of a lack of faith that that is how magic works, because realistically, it isn't.

The question of fate is just as unbalanced. All magic is interfering with fate, and with people's fates too. If I do a spell to try to make sure my lawyer works hard to help me succeed in immigration, I have interfered with their fate, and not in an inherently harmful way. But it can be even smaller! What if I did a spell to attract more squirrels to my yard, people might have to brake for the squirrels crossing the road to get to my yard, and be late for work. They might get fired for that, or might not. Either way their fate is altered. What if the person braking for the squirrel gets rear-ended? Is that my fault? Should I not have done the magic? Should he have braked slower? Was it fate that I did that spell and it caused him to have a car accident? Was he always fated to have that car accident, and was I just an instrument in its coming to fruition? There is no action without reaction. There is no action without impact. So the question of altering someone's fate is moot, and if you think altering someone's fate is unethical, you should at the very least cease to practice magic, and likely confine yourself to a room forever. Assuming that doesn't alter the fate of your concerned mother. By that logic, the question of free will also becomes obsolete. If it was never in this person's fate to fall in love with you, no amount of magic you could do would change that. And if you don't make them fall for you, someone else will.

Because that's the next consideration: from this very common cosmological lens, what is really the moral difference between love magic and dressing up for a date? If you go to a date dressed to the nines, with nice makeup on, and you make yourself sound incredibly cool and active, are you not also attempting to make someone fall for you? Is that stripping them of their free will? At what point is the love entirely natural in origin? I could even argue that the act of making yourself look, smell, and sound good is love magic, or at least glamor magic for the sake of love, in its own right.

And there is yet another consideration: the actual nature of most (open) historic love magic. A lot of historical records of love magic that we have from such places as, for example, ancient Greece, is not coercive magic. Much of it is petitioning the gods or praying to them for the love or person you desire. Other spells are intended to draw them to you, simply send out a message on the web of fate and let your future lover follow it to you, such as by placing a basil plant in one's windowsill. The spells that do intend to truly instil love in a single person are rarer, but of course exist, and I readily excuse them based on the points made above.

Another problem with dismissing love magic as a whole is how integral it is to culture. Even if your intention is not to accidentally condemn all magic - which you might well be on accident just by virtue of the cosmology of this claim not checking out - you are denying the validity of a practice seen in nearly every culture, and integral to many magical traditions. There are no universal laws of magic, that is a rather Wiccan notion. By extension, why would there be universal ethics? Why would all love magic be bad?

Lastly, there's the concern of creating a toxic relationship. Yes, love magic may draw a toxic love to you. But I can assure you that it was not the magic that made it toxic. Wearing a nice dress to the club can attract toxic love to you, looking cute at a café can, anything can. Any love has the potential to be toxic. The love being found through magic will not inherently make it toxic, because the love isn't artificial. Love being found through magic is no different than love found on a dating app, because factually, the line between magic and mundane is next to nonexistent. Moreover, I think if love magic only ever created toxic relationships, we'd know that by now. Love magic is as old as the desire for love itself is, and so is mankind's penchant for gossip. "I heard Ethel did a love spell to find her husband, and he beats her silly!" So would the tales go even in ye olden days, and it would spread. If love magic only ever drew harmful love, we'd have figured that out and stopped using it, because ultimately we do tend to eventually notice when things have a habit of going awry.

Much magic was the domain of women in our open traditions across Europe, and by extension there was much care for how love magic was done and what for. I could also argue that condemning a form of magic that was and is often done by and for women, for their own joy, health, and wealth, is just unfortunate. Because of course, as a final note, it is important to remember that folk magic is alive and well across the globe. Outside of the online magical community, there is much magic being done, entirely unaware of our debates. And hopefully it will continue to be done! Folk magic is important and beautiful, and so are its love magic practices.

---- If you enjoy my work, please consider purchasing or commissioning some of my written resarch, ordering a reading, or commissioning my art. Click here to see the options. Thank you!

[inc0mple]

Reiterating this on Tumblr. (These are my own thoughts and opinions that I am expressing for myself.)

You are allowed to be excited about a piece of media, and want to scream about it to the heavens. That's the mark of a good author.

You are also allowed to feel negatively towards media! It's your brain and your opinions!

But if your opinion is positive, I think it cultivates a better community environment to leave positive/affirming comments. Yes the new episode has us all feeling the feels, and I know hyperbole comments like "Author when I catch you author" are very common on Webtoon, especially with big plot events, and are written to be complimentary.

But sometimes threats and accusations towards the author, even meant in a positive way, can start to look like a slew of pure hate mail. You can, generally, say whatever you want on the internet without major retribution (a block or a deleted comment at most, usually). And if it's a well used/obvious hyperbole, like "OMGGGG HOW DARE YOU I'M NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE THIS" or "IM DROPPING THE COMIC" or even wishing misfortune onto the creator of a series (which is never okay to do online, by the way), there likely will not be repercussions because the understanding is that it isn't serious. However, in masses, these comments feel very heavy. I'm not saying you aren't allowed to scream in the comments (and to be fair I'm not allowed to make any rules, I'm just expressing my opinion and easing my own consciousness, but I ask you to at least hear it out), but simply keeping expressively negative language about hating the comic and telling the author to stop making it out of digital spaces can cultivate an equally excited community that feels much better to look at. You can type "AHHHHHHH SCREAMING ABOUT THE NEW EPISODE" without adding the /nrs toxic stuff, sucky words about hate and anger directed towards the comic or creator. This goes for more things than just Cinderella Boy.

And if you do dislike it you're allowed to do that. Just remember nobody owes you. We are reading this comic for free, and we are not entitled to the enjoyment of it. If you want to drop it, drop it; you're allowed to. If you have a grievance with it you can maintain that! But spamming public forums just because the plot didn't go your way isn't really cool. And if you are typing the types of comments y'all know I'm talking about and mean them, check yourself. Those are not okay things to say. Be a good person.

The internet doesn't take away the people behind the screen. I thought this was something we learned in elementary school. You are not just talking to a profile picture and a username. This also doesn't just go for statements directly towards Punko; let's all just be nice to each other and make sure we aren't stepping over people's conversational boundaries that they would have with any reasonable, human stranger - because most of us are strangers, or vague acquaintances. And you wouldn't be yelling at people like that if you were standing in front of you irl, unless they were your friends. And you do not have that level of familiarity with most people online.

How big of an issue this is in this fandom depends on who you ask - for the most part people are so nice here and it's so great - but I just wanted to make a blanket statement because it's something to keep in mind and I've been seeing a lot of it as the finale approaches. If you don't like a piece of media it's probably best to just disengage with it. Also, threats are not okay.

[cherish--these--times]

Okay. Enough of this. I'm trying to be more positive LOL

The ending riled me up real bad for multiple reasons I've already mentioned, and we can't change it. It is what it is. But they gave us a lot to be happy about in regards to Tedbecca in the last episode. I see hope in the way Ted seemed incapable of saying anything. His usual chirpy-self, who was always babbling on, filling the silence at every turn, disappeared when Rebecca was concerned. Because he knew that he was hurting her by leaving. Which in turn hurt him. Because that's what love is. The writers might have tried to avoid making it romantic, but they had created a monster. Lemme explain.

Short answer: They were soulmates, they said. No need for it to be romantic, they said. It can be platonic, they said. Men and women can be friends!! they said.

BUT.

Ted and Rebecca were not friends. And that's the catch right there. That's the mistake the writers made.

And that's why this was a love story, no matter how hard they tried to squash the idea.

Long answer:

Rebecca was quite far down on the list of Ted's go-to people by the time season 3 landed. He had Beard of course, the Diamond Dogs, Dr. Sharon, even Keeley was admittidly closer to him by that point.

Rebecca was in a league of her own. They were both navigating their life separately but somehow showing up for one another at a time when nobody else would do. Understanding each other on a level that can't even be articulated.

And when it was time for him to leave, the only one he could not quite face and say goodbye to was her. Because there was something there, unacknowledged, unsaid, looming over them. Even BH alluded to this in his infamous reddit debacle. About saying I love you to one another. I had to read that section back. What I wouldn't do for you people? :D

In my personal opinion, in the airport scene they are both struggling with whether or not to say it. But they both know instinctively that if they do, it could open a floodgate they’d rather not open.

Had they been the BFF that a lot of people mistakenly painted them as, this would have been a no-brainer for them. But they couldn't. Because there was something there. That is something the writers did to themselves.

I blame and thank deeply Hannah W. for this. She instilled so much care and fondness and tenderness towards Ted in season one; Rebecca always liked him, even when she was trying real hard to hate him. And the chemistry was just off the charts.

So she carved a very special place for Rebecca in Ted's orbit, that even the writers could not help but lean into. Resulting in the soulmate idea which didn't take root until season 2.

And BOOM. They fucked themselves over. Because Ted and Rebecca were now bonded in a way that could not be undone, and could not even be strictly defined. But one thing is clear: they are destined to be together if they want a real shot at happiness. It's just the truth that the writers established without trying to. Because they make each other better. They understand each other in a way that is beyond words. They can kiss each other's bruises without judgement or fear of judgement. And yes, in a way that would not have been undermined by also wanting to have sex with one another, contrary to popular belief. As two straight people who enjoy sex, it would have been the logicial last piece of the puzzle.

So the ending is fucking sad, because Ted left without really wanting to, letting yesterday be in the way of today, as Rebecca put it. But the last episode also proved once and for all that Ted and Rebecca are fucking IT for each other. Even if they were not ready to let themselves go there yet.

[sugaredraspberries]

Brat or nat - what music would the Arcana MCs listen to?

My recent post about brat Malak received a small amount of vague attention, so I decided to double down on it and answer the question nobody was asking themselves - are our arcana faves brat or nat? (and what music are they listening to if they don’t have what it takes to appreciate 365 Party Girl)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Julian:

Julian doesn’t know how that crow learned to use his '90s CD player OR where the hell did he get that CD from, but every time he tries to sit peacefully in his favourite armchair and read - it be bumpin' that on full volume. And he will shout and complain that he doesn't want to listen to that crap…… but then, in a club/bar, he SUDDENLY knows all the words to “Club classics”. His music taste is kinda dad-coded - rock ballads and sea chants + some musical theatre and comedy songs (lived and breathed Bo Burnham during the plagggdemic but says these new age pieces are too computronic and digital for him).

Favourite song - All Eyes On Me by Bo Burnham  Enjoy the Silence by Depeche Mode  Killer Queen by Queen

Malak: 

Drop down, yeah. Put the camera flash on. So stylish. Baby tee is all gone.

Favourite song - 360 featuring shygirl by Charli xcx

Portia: 

Quoting Charli xcx - “I thought you’d be a fan. Most lesbians are.” Portia listens to a lot of pop music - you can hear her humming “Espresso” while she’s working in her garden. On top of that, she likes to dabble in some indie artists, like Clairo and Harriette, which are her go-to when she’s having some sad girl time.

CANONICALLY Chappel Roan is her favourite artist. 

Favourite song - Pink Pony Club by Chappel Roan

Pepi:

Prefers more indie things and of course - cat music (Google that cuz it exists). But overall doesn’t care that much.

Favourite song - "Cats Prefer Species-Appropriate Music" by Snowdown &  Teie

Nadia:

She doesn’t care whatsoever for electronic music, but she has an appreciation for Charli's lyricism. To her - the message is one of the most important part parts of the song, but she likes to hear human voices harmonise with the raw sounds of real instruments. That’s why she appreciates artist such as Billie Eilish and Taylor Swift.

Favourite song - The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Chandra:

Fancy-as, better-then-you bird will listen only to philharmonic, classical music. 

Favourite song - Beethoven, I guess? She wouldn’t tell you because you wouldn’t get it

Asra:

He likes a few songs from the "brat" album - particularly “Talk, talk”, “Girl, so confusing” and “Everything is romantic”.  On a daily basis, Asra listens mostly to 80s and 70s classics. Whitney, Amy, Abba… But of course, he likes some contemporary music. Portia and he talk about the newest pop releases with each other all the time. Their chat would consist mostly of questions and opinions about their most and least favourite songs.

Favourite song - I Will Always Love You by Dolly Parton

Faust:

Not only is she a girly girl - she's the girl's girl. Being a snake doesn't stop her from getting and relating to the raw journey through womanhood that "brat" is.

Favorite song - Milkshake by Fergie

Muriel:

He is not into music like that - like at all. He has some small radio in his hut, and would mindlessly listen to some station playing non-particular music. He has some preferred melodies, but doesn’t know any lyrics, names or titles.

Favourite song - Morning chirps of birds and wind blowing through the forest

Inanna:

Due to Muriel's preferences and lifestyle, she doesn't get to listen to music, much… but if she could choose? Taylor Swift's Cardigan album would be her favourite.

Favourite song - The quiet sizzle and pops of the burning fire.

Lucio:

He is the sweat party girl. Listens to whatever is popular at the time, and of course - he has known that artist for years now, and he’s shocked other people are only now catching up. And it's totally true - he wouldn’t lie about things like that… No real personal taste. Too afraid to lose relevance, if he paid too much attention to non-mainstream artists.

Favorite song? *Nervously looks to see what’s nr 1 on Billboard*

Spirit song? Von dutch a.g. cook remix feat. addison rae by Chari xcx

Mercedes & Melchior:

They demand and they NEED to be played this one song on repeat, or they WILL destroy your house and eat your children.

Favorite song - Four Seasons by Vivaldi

[fanficrocks]

Scarecrow

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Fandom: Endeavour (TV)

WC: 523

Peter, on a date with Hope, spies Morse and Joan. And has opinions on Morse's sartorial choices.

Peter stretches his legs with a huge sigh of relief and settles his arm more comfortably around Hope’s shoulders. The pub is now at just that right level of bustle to ensure nobody will bother them in this shadowed corner booth unless he calls for the waitress - and not so busy that another couple will be waiting for them to vacate the space. As Hope nestles closer, rubbing her cheek appreciatively against the soft wool of his jumper, Peter feels vindicated in his decision to save up for it. His casual wardrobe may be small, but each piece is carefully chosen with an eye towards quality and fit. Successfully too, if Hope’s reactions are anything to go by. 

Leaning his cheek against Hope’s hair as he responds to her question about the upcoming weekend, Peter catches sight of another couple seated at a table near the centre of the pub. The girl has her back towards them but that wavy dark hair is easily recognised, and the man - slight yet graceful with red-brown hair unable to make up its mind between curls and waves, and dressed in clothes he seems to be swimming in  - well, the man is most certainly Morse. Watching his colleague’s slightly awkward movements, Peter can’t help grinning. The movement brings Hope’s head up and she follows his line of sight to see what is amusing him so much.

“Well, well, well!”

“What?”

“See that couple over there? The bloke is my colleague, and the girl with him is our boss’s daughter.”

“Isn’t he taking a bit of a risk - going out with the boss’s daughter?”

“Bit of a teacher’s pet, is Morse. I guess if anyone in the nick can take Joan Thursday out with her father’s blessing, it is he.”

“I wonder if they will follow our example.”

“I didn’t know your curiosity went that far.”

“Hey! That’s not what I meant. I was wondering if they will end up tying the knot.”

“Not if he continues to dress like a scarecrow. I can’t stand it - a man in his late twenties, and looks like he is still buying clothes to grow into like parents do for kids.”

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you help him out? Maybe he just doesn’t know better and is too shy to ask.”

“It’s not that easy - he is a touchy sort. Not given to accepting advice, however well meant.”

“You can talk. But he is a mate?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he is now.”

“Well then. Faint heart never won fair maiden.”

This pronouncement has Peter sputtering and turning to take a good look at her, and it is all she can do to stop herself from peals of laughter at the sight of his startled face.

“Don’t be so literal, surely you have heard that idiom before! Sometimes you have to work hard to achieve your goal, that’s all.”

“Hard work - Morse is that, alright.”

“But you think he is worth nudging in the right direction?”

“Didn’t think so at first. But he has hidden depths. So, yeah.”

“Fabulous! Now let’s plot just how you can go about it.”

[silenttale22]

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND/PJM/ - Chapter 8

Summary: Someone once told her she had to learn to live in pieces as there would be nobody to glue them up. But what if a person with similar pieces to her appears? What if by complete coincidence her crying is heard in the middle of the night? What if together they can create a whole new masterpiece? Dancer!Jimin x Student!Reader Genre: Fluff, Angst, Slice of life. hurt/comfort, Soulmate!AU, SchoolAU Warnings: Curses

Word count: 5k

Note: I think we so much closer to the end now! So I hope you enjoy

MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 7/CHAPTER 8/CHAPTER 9

Despite coming across as totally confident, without any panics going inside his head, Jimin's caramel eyes still hold a hidden fear. Fear of rejection, and of being judged in the most ordinary way. Of how he looks like, how he moves or how he lives. He was so scared about the other peoples opinion, looking for someone else validation, that he was losing himself slowly.

Over the years, his excessive obsession with things to be perfect grew, and when he found a person who caught his attention for a longer term - he felt lost.

He felt the need to please everything and everyone, so now an uneasiness blossomed in his chest that slowly sprouted vines outside as well.

He had lost, or was about to lose.

These were now his musings as thoughts of you ran through his head. He tried to reach out and get in touch with you, but you just ghosted him and gave him the cold shoulder. You disappeared.

And this made him feel vulnerable. Because for a long time he had the feeling that the only reason for his better state was you. Getting up every day, eating a good full breakfast and getting the right amount of rest…that's all he was trying to do for you.

And it was probably wrong, a red light should have been glare in front of his eyes because - he should be doing it for himself, not for someone. What's the point of trying to be a better person for someone if you can't be sure as soon as that person disappears, that better version of you will simply fall away.

It was precisely why Jimin was slowly losing his mind. Because he gradually didn't know which version could be the real one.

When the contact with you broke off, he couldn't stop wondering what had happened. Did he messed up so bad?

He couldn't just stop thinking, because that's how he was - putting others above himself, worrying about others, making time for others. Only that in this he often found himself losing his own self.

This time, however, he thought a lot about your behavior. And by spending time with you, he could see similar patterns to himself, which he often mirrored with fear of losing someone, or something.

It was hard for him to stop wondering what was really going on in your life, because no matter how strong feelings blossomed inside him at the very thought of you - he still didn't know anything about you. He didn't know your story, but neither did you know his.

You both wanted to start with the walls already built, forgetting to think in the beginning how important the fundamentals could be.

Just as quickly as Jimin began to realize this, he wanted to take action. However, he couldn't, because you disappeared. Responses to the knocks on your apartment door were silent, and the messages he managed to send you a little (leaving aside the ones deleted before sending each time) were mostly not even read.

Jimin began to doubt whether he would ever be able to catch you.

That's why one cooler day, when Hoseok had mercy on his exhausted body and finished practice sooner, the blond man didn't wait to wear his coat real quick and sprinted to your department's entrance, hoping you were still there like you usually do. His body was shivering a bit after an hour from the continuing cold that was getting through the door opening every now and then, but he refused to move. Fearing that he might accidentally miss you by sight.

After two hours, he caught a glimpse of your hunched posture poking through between the bodies. Your nose dipped in a huge scarf, and your hands tucked deep in your pockets. You looked like a cute little ball to him. But when you passed him at the door without a thing, his heart squeezed sharply almost stopping him from grabbing your sleeve.

Eventually he got brave to catch you, but your reaction put even more pins in his fast-beating heart. Your eyes met his, for moments gazing sharply, but just as quickly as your gazes met, you took your eyes off him as if embarrassed by his presence.

"You good?" Jimin asked, but seeing your confusion, and slight anxiety glimpsing inside the eye, he knew something was wrong.

But he still didn't know what.

"As you can see," you said quickly, escaping his gaze with your eyes

"You've been out recently a lot," he tried hard to sound normal, but the heaviness were lying on his chest, making it hard to breath

"Working," Jimin hummed quietly, but he wished to came closer you, hold you tight and protect from everything around.

But he couldn't, so the only thing he could tried was to plaster a smile on his face, and with hurting heart say

“Hope to spend some time soon,”

But you didn't respond. Left him there still cold, not really sure what to do.

The next few days became nothing but torment for him. A strange feeling of loneliness had begun to cling to his body even though he was surrounded by many people. The longer he stayed with others, the more he noticed how your presence eased his insecurities.

Jimin also noticed that being among people and keeping even some sort of close friendship with them didn't mean that they ever understood or would understand what was really going through his head. However, you seemed to be such a lost piece of his soul to patch up the hole inside that was felt more and more with time.

In the evenings after long practice sessions, right after coming back home with his headphones still pressed into his ears blasting loud music, Jimin would make himself a meal. He ate it slowly, sitting then for a long while in the kitchen looking dully out the window, where the sun was setting slowly over the horizon, and the beat in his headphones massaged his tired brain pleasantly.

It wasn't until an hour later that he pulled off his headphones to take a shower and ended up comfortably laid out on the cold ground of his bedroom and kept his eyes on the ceiling. The chill spreading from the ground eased his roaming thoughts a bit, but it was still hard for him to stop completely. So listening to the sounds of your apartment every day, he wondered if anything would change.

As he thought about it longer and longer, the more he wondered if he had done the right thing by invading your life. Truth be told, after the night you gave him a helping hand, you never mentioned that you wanted to continue any friendship with him. Jimin simply tried hard to stay within your reach, and you never seemed to refuse his presence. However, now he felt like an intruder. Slowly, he was unsure himself whether he should continue to meddle in your life without a clear invitation.

With his head still in the clouds, practice seemed arduous for him, not exciting as much as it should have been. The steps, even though they seemed to come out perfectly, still didn't bring him satisfaction so each time he would go up to the equipment playing the music from the beginning and - with or without Hoseok - dance the whole choreography from the start.

“Jimin, I know you have ants in pants but sit on your ass for once” Hoseok's voice was loud, as his finger found the turning off button making blond one groan.

“Just let me dance, for fuck sake” he grunted, leading his steps to the console.

“Nah, come here. We have to talk.” Hoseok sat on the floor, and patted the place next to him so Jimin right after rolling his eyes with annoyance, took the same pointed spot. “So…” he said, stopping just after, making blond one to look with a side eye.

“What” low and rough tone came out but for first minutes he only heard the snort as an answer.

“Will you ask her properly out?” The question finally falls, and Jimin's eyes widen, feeling as the blood rushed to his cheeks.

“We're friends…I think we're one…” he mumbled, now making Hoseok to groan and nudge him hard onto shoulder “Hey! what was that for”

“Just ask her out or you will be again the grumpy bitch” snort left Jimin's lips yet uneasy feeling on his chest made him dizzy

“We barely know each other, and I don't think its a goo-” as boy wanted to find any reasonable explanation, another time the voice interrupts him in mid-sentence

“Bullshit, I'm not asking you to buy an engagement ring idiot. I want you to give her a hint that your stupid ass likes her more.” the eye roll and loud huff making Jimin annoyed even if he know that his friends speak some truth and theoretically this should not make him feel this way.

A sense of unease clings to him with the thought that the proposal that Hoseok mentions might be most simply rejected. Although you never seemed unwilling to be in his presence, no one said you would just want to go out with him like that.

Jimin's gaze rises slightly, and the reflection of his face stares miserably askance. His skin had become a bit more dull through several sleepless nights, even pale in places, and small bags under his eyes had begun to decorate his face.

But he couldn't do anything about the fact that every spare moment his thoughts returned to you and to the feeling bottled up inside him. Every little thing about you made

Jimin's only desire is to know you better. He wanted to know your story from the past and wanted to be a part of it in the future. However, he couldn't do that without your permission, whether he wanted it or not.

“I know you're scared” Hoseok's voice shakes him out of his momentary musings, gaze from his reflection jumps quickly to the face of a friend "I know that your past, more intimate relationships of this kind didn't tend to end ,uhm well…but, she really seems to be different. Seeing you two together in the hallway that day, if I hadn't talked to you I could have said you were already pretty close."

“Hobi, she don't want to talk to me anymore. I tried, and she just-”

“Because maybe she's scared too? You, yourself said that you just met, she may be scared of doing the wrong step. Or maybe just as you has not the best story behind” Jimin hummed quietly, playing with his fingers and listening attentively every other word “I just want to say, both of you can come through similar pain but in different way so its may be easier for both of you to understand your needs but first you need to talk. Without it, you will do nothing and she will just disappear.” and that's how Hoseok's words came his to mind, because the thought of losing you forever punched Jimin in face hard.

“Fine, I'll talk to her but-”

“Great, that's what I wanted to hear!” blond boy huffed with anger, eyeing Hoseok with narrowed eyes

“Okay you big shit, interrupt me one more time and I'll punch you. That's your third time” Jimin's voice was sharp, exaggerated sigh left his lips right after the sentence

“Not my fault you're talking bullshit.” Hoseok grumbled, but wrapping it all up with a crooked smile causing Jimin to just nod and the room fell silent again

And since then, the boy's head was heavily filled not only with questions as to why you stopped speaking so overnight, but also how to make it all right so that you could come to his side again. However, with each passing day, Jimin felt his nerves embrace him tightly, and his every attempt to approach you one more time and get into any kind of conversation ended in fiasco. Because of this he would often return home that same day, once again skipping any meals, going to bed and trying to sleep for the sake of it.

He could feel his body weakening, and the twinkling in front of his eyes, which had been gone for a long time, began to return. Sitting indoors more and more, his body was shivering from the cold even though it was supposedly warm enough inside.

He no longer knew what to do himself, and the days once again began to flow with monotony and sadness. When classes at the university ended and a particular day of practice wasn't scheduled Jimin found himself at a dance school. Smiling children learning new steps lifted his spirits a bit, sometimes even a sincere smile danced on his lips. However, he knew inside that something was missing and he could no longer patch the hole.

He slowly presented the next moves, and the juniors at first gazed at his silhouette mesmerized, only to try to repeat the same later. Jimin's group was much smaller in number than the others, but this was not due to his lack of experience. He had already been teaching here for a good three years, so as if that were a problem, he would most likely be fired a long time ago.

The reason is, not many younger people find interest in contemporary dance, which is exactly what he has been teaching. He knew this from himself, as a much younger boy he used to see himself more in street dance, in much looser styles, but one day in high school everything changed, and today he was grateful for it. He actually rather like his body to gently glide through the air or move gracefully on the ground than to make his body mimic robotic movements and put in some soulful steps.

“Seonsaengnim, I can't do that!” a little girl with a pout sat on the floor, as the music stopped playing. Jimin's head perked up to firstly look at the hunched posture he saw only in the reflection. Her face now tucked into knees, as he walked quickly and crouched next to her side “I'm trying, and not even the new one steps but the old are hard for me and I am so so terrible. I'm so sorry.” she was about to cry, and Jimin's heart stung painfully at this sight

“Hey, look at me, little one,'' he begin gently, waiting patiently as her big shining from tears eyes looked into his “There's nothing to be sorry about, and you're not terrible. You did nothing wrong”

“Every step was wrong! I was out of sync with the rest, almost bumping others! I'm terrible” Jimin sighed and took a seat on the floor right next to the girl

“Okay, come here everyone. Let's sit in the circle.'' Every other kid easily listened to his words and did what he asked for. “There is this really important thing in dancing, and it's called patience. I know we all want to be perfect at everything from the first whistle, and I know what you are feeling, little one, because I have the same when something is going wrong. I know you are frustrated, and It's okay. As long as you still will keep trying.”

“But Seonsaengnim, you're always perfect with choreographies” one of the kids whined, and Jimin chuckled quietly.

“I'm perfect in front of you, because I spend days and hours preparing all of the moves just for all of you. What kind of teacher would I be, not knowing the right steps, hm?” he said with a smile, and kids hummed understandably “Everything will come in time, okay? Let's be patient and work hard. Just because you have one bitter day, doesn't mean your whole life will be like that, right? So little ones, just let's take it easy today, don't overwhelm yourself with the steps. Understood?'

“Okay Seonsaengnim!” and the adorable scream from kids makes Jimin smile, because that's the reason he loved this work so much. Encouraging others to follow their dream.

Because who would we all be without dreams?

A couple of days that were spent alternating between classes with the children and university work, another week came filled with nothing but preparations for the festival itself. Thoughts of you dimmed somewhat, but still in the back of his mind the questions of why you just so simply faded away without a sign of life could not let go.

Several times he found himself at the door of your apartment with his hand up in the air, ready to knock and see if you were okay.

Except instead, with each such try, a voice in his head screamed for him to stop with the pestering. So even though his heart innocently whined for any contact with you, the silly voice was winning out, and Jimin would return to his apartment with his head drooped, swallowing single tears that he considered pitiful more and more often. Wished to throw his sensitivity in the trash.

Still, there were moments when his thoughts completely turned off. And that was when he danced, or took the chance for any kind of physical activity. So today, as well, with his backpack tightly pulled, he ran toward the practice room, and more upbeat music played in his headphones, he felt easiness on chest at least for some minutes.

For the first time in a long, he was the first to get on the spot, so he wasted no time to grab the key from the school reception desk after showing his ID and start stretching before a friend got to join him.

The room was peaceful, covered in semi-darkness. Only Jimin's quiet humming spreading around the room from time to time to which the boy made some single arm stretches or took slow steps across the floor. He liked doing this, liked feeling the music even before it resounded in his head. He loved it when his body spontaneously wanted to create new steps to an unfamiliar melody.

However, he quickly stopped his silent stepping and found himself on the floor stretching out his tired muscles. The nights were still not very favorable for him. Although he tried to get as much sleep as he could, sometimes his eyes simply chose to stare at the ceiling rather than shut down and drift off into another space-time dimension.

A sudden clatter at the door of the room made his head pop up alarmed, but seeing Hoseok's face, he quickly went back to stretching. However, when your familiar scent entered his nostrils right as his friend crossed the threshold, his eyebrows quickly furrowed however he could not take his eyes off the ground while stretching. The movements were much louder than those usually made by the black-haired man himself, making it hard for Jimin not to cast a glance toward the mirror to see who was the next person in the room. His eyes widened when he saw your hunched posture, uncertainly pulling the bag off your shoulder right next to the legs of the other dancer.

"I see your surprise, probably by the amount, hm?" smile on Hoseok lips draw Jimin crazy mad, as you smiled back at him. Even if it was the smallest one. "It's just the two of us as this is our last time to prepare for the festival. I thought Jimin told you. You'll be at it, right? To see us…" you seemed shocked, and it was hard for him to not feel guilty. But on the other hand, how could he tell you anything, if right after he come to know both of you go to the same university, you disappeared.

"Yeah, sure. If you tell me exactly where and when it's going to be, I can come. I'll keep my fingers crossed for both of you," and Jimin's eyes widened, because you still want to come and see him. See their duet…even after not talking for so long.

"So Jimin really didn't mention anything to you?" Hoseok smiled again, but it only makes the blond one to clench his jaw, because its not his fucking business.

And ever since you stepped across the practice room with Hoseok, Jimin couldn't throw away that uncomfortable feeling that made him feel less confident than usual. Not just because he wasn't sure enough about his dancing, but a far deeper reason was the fear of being mocked. Of making himself a laughing stock in front of the person he damn well cares about.

No words seemed to want to go through his throat. Most simply, he couldn't speak…but more and more, it boiled inside him when a dark-haired friend would toss out sentences with a smile, and you would respond with an equally twisted happy face on your lips.

"Shall we get started? The hall isn't free for too long." He did not like the tone that escaped his lips one bit, but was unable to do otherwise, trying to ignore your hard gaze.

As the music and the strong bass spread through the room, Park almost automatically took every step. He was aware that there were many flaws in this, and Hoseok might be looking from beneath the bull's-eye at what the boy was doing, but he cared about simply not falling, as he always ended up doing in practice.

After one song and another several minutes of continuous dancing, they both stopped out of breath for a bit. The blond felt that his cheeks had turned a satiny red, and his sweaty face and extreme embarrassment did not make him look attractive at all. So all he could do was start nervously looking around for a white rough towel that could cover his face. However, Hoseok was quicker and commanded a rerun, so all Jimin could do was get his head stuck a little more sheepishly in his arms and position himself once again for the choreography.

So the next few minutes were full of focus and stress for Jimin, not wanting to make any mistakes. Desiring to make an impression on you that he hadn't had the chance to make before. He only glanced in your direction from time to time, trying to read from your facial expression whether he was making any impression on you, and despite your gently bared lips, he wasn't sure of anything. Because Hoseok was right next to him and he was the one who could make that impression.

“Let's take a break, kay?” Jimin slumped on the floor as Hoseok's voice echoed in the room, and after that ran out of the room, shouting that he was going to the bathroom.

His gaze went to you for a short second. He saw how you jumped from the sudden loud bang but still didn't say a thing. Should he now properly ask you? Or may he just stay quiet and give you your space. His breathing was heavy, heart pounding hard inside his chest and he didn't know if it was because of the dancing or your presence right next to him.

He wished to get up and hug you after so long.

But he couldn't.

Because what if you don't want him anymore.

“I-I can…” your voice was quiet, and broke down even before Jimin's head snapped in your direction “I can leave…” Saliva went down his throat hard, and hands shake a little bit at the thought of losing you again.

“What?” his voice was rough, and he hated that so much

“I can leave if you don't want me here, I'm sorry for invading your private space.” the boost of adrenaline in his body, make him get up quickly, almost dripping on his own feet and by accident throwed himself onto your back, but his arms embraced you tightly, and he felt like crying just at the thought of you leaving.

“Stay, please” he hide his face onto your shirt, and as you sighed quietly, your body less tense, kind of relief went over him. You will stay.

“You avoid my gaze, never mentioned it all…S-so I just thought I shouldn't be here, that I crossed the line.” Jimin heart almost broke, as you turn in his direction and then lead to sit on the floor with hard expression painted on your face.

But how could you think that way? For Jimin you just being around meant more than anything else. Yet you couldn't have known that your laughter - though damn rare, made his world light up with millions of colors. It made his day better in the simplest way. And he wanted more and more to prove to you that you were a miracle, someone irreplaceable, someone who appears to turn a life full of uncertainty and fear into light, even when your soul seems crushed by the weight of everyday life.

“Crossed the line? I thought you don't want to see me anymore or something, after this day on the corridor, and all…You just stopped talking to me,” he said hesitantly, being afraid of pulling you closer and keep in arms as he should earlier.

“I had to think, there was some…things bothering my mind. I wasn't sure what to do, and your behavior does not help. And still…I saw you were uncomfortable with me here.” he sighed with heavy feeling full of guild that he made you feel this way, so he grabbed your hand and squeeze it gently

“It's not that,” He shake his head, denying your words “I don't want you to see me all sweaty and red. I don't want you to be disgusted in me or something” words came out naturally, opening up to you his eternally clinging fear. That anyone who sees him in such a state will most simply leave him. However, your eyes get big looking at his face. And Jimin freezes, unsure of your reaction.

"What the heck? You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen…Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” your voice is rough, but still weird feeling raging inside his chest “Like, damn boy…you're handsome as fuck yet you worry about my opinion," warm. He feels warm yet still insecure at the same time.

"How can you even say that?" face getting warmer that the feeling inside his chest, cheeks are burning so he tries to turn his face in the other way but he can't

"I'm telling only the truth" your hands grabbed his shoulders, then one of them gently took his face and let it hide in the crook of your neck.

And it's so unfamiliar for Jimin, but in such a small gesture he feels filled with so much care that he can't stop tears coming to his eyes. Not a minute passed, and streams of tears went down his cheeks. And he wasn't scared of shedding tears in front of you. Because he felt safe with you "And nothing will ever change my mind."

He was calm feeling you right next to him. Because you fitted just right. The pieces he thought couldn't be patched were filled with your presence only. And he wanted to stay like this. Not wanting to let you go.

“What kind of my behavior bothered you?” words left his lips, and your body tense slightly under him.

“Just...your looks sometimes make me confused. Like...I'm questioning myself if you want me around or not.”

“That's why you disappeared?” He couldn't stop himself from asking this question. Wanted to know if it was all his fault, because if it was, he would do anything to make up for his mistake

“Not only, but yeah at some point.” she chuckled, but the heavy feeling was still on his chest

“I'm sorry.”

“It's fine Jimin, it's fine.”

But even if you said it was fine, Jimin couldn't stop thinking about it.

Because something was off with you, and he just wished to know what it was about exactly.

That mixed feeling that he needs you the most in this world, that his greatest desire is to live by your side conflicted with the thought of whether your broken pieces would fit with his for sure. Questions about whether the feeling blossoming in his chest would begin to overwhelm not so much him as you. He wondered if it all won't make it all disappear like a soap bubble impaled on the tiniest object.

Jimin was about to try hard.

To make sure you feel comfortable around him with the same manner as he felt with you. He wanted his words to affect you in the same way that yours affected him. Because you made every negative thing he saw in himself shrink to such a degree that the hope in his heart that maybe you saw something more in him than a naive boy after all blossomed overgrowing any flaws.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

More weeks passed, and as you spent more and more time with Jimin, the boy began to notice how, despite the toughest armor you put on yourself each day, a shadow of sadness ran across your face despite a relatively happy-looking day. He began to notice how well you were doing at hiding the pain that was bottled up inside you, and he couldn't stop thinking about how to help. Because you do your best to make sure that no one experiences the bitter taste of sorrow when you are alone drowning in despair.

And Jimin wanted to show you that the darkness you try so hard to lock yourself in is not good for you. That your repetitive panic attacks may not be just a momentary weakness but suffering deeply settled in your soul that needs to get a little light that you give to others instead of to yourself. Although he didn't know how long you had been stuck in all this stress, he noticed how addicted you might be to your own thoughts, which weren't necessarily true, and only made you feel worse.

He was after his classes with the kids when a message from you popped up unexpectedly on his phone screen asking if he could pick you up from outside the university building because you weren't feeling well. The boy didn't even hesitate to completely change direction and start running towards you. Knowing perfectly well that you are not someone easily asking for help. Therefore, with a heavy heart, he took no speed in his legs to get next to you as quickly as possible.

He noticed your figure from a distance, you were standing in front of the gate to the college, your face hidden in a scarf, and when he was close enough a quiet sob entered his ears. The stinging sensation in his chest only quickened his steps, and his arms quickly embraced you in a tight hug soothing your crying. Your body trembled under his arms, and your lungs seemed to be having trouble getting enough oxygen.

"J-Jimin?" your voice was weak and at this short sound of it his heart clenched painfully

“I'm right here, for you, and you're safe I promise you're safe.” Jimin was repeating it like a mantra, swaying from side to side and trying to calm you down.

"It's all my fault. I'm the only one to blame" you cried harder, tightening grip on his jacked.

"What happened, why are you saying this?" he tried to look at your face, but you were buried between his arm and muffled around his neck scarf.

"He died because of me, I should be the one dead." Jimin's eyes widen, saliva hard to swallow as his throat was deadly dry. He frozen for a short second trying to digest your words

"Y/N…" he try to coo you, not knowing what actually happened he don't want to believe that you can blame yourself with something like that "This is not true, so please let me just take you home"

"No, you don't understand!" you jerked out of his embrace, eyes quickly looked at your face - red from crying and cold at the same time

"Then explain" your body was shaking, breaths you took was shallow making Jimin himself panic. He wanted to hold you again, promising that everything will be okay

"I walk these damn corridors day after day, the looks of all these people drive me crazy, his friends looking at me with feigned sympathy when I know they blame me every time. Because it's my fault"

"Y/N I don't-" you groaned

“Of course you don't. You know it was a mistake.” he stopped breathing for a second, looking at you with disbelief “I really shouldn't write to you, I shouldn't waste your time, I'm sorry”

"No" it was rough, and astonishment and confusion were plain on your face; he could only hear a faint "huh" from you. Nevertheless, Jimin didn't waste any time and came towards you, embracing you more strongly than when you first attempted to escape. He hugged you as if you were about to break apart in his arms. “I don't care what it was about, I'm sure it wasn't your damn fault. You don't have to tell me. Not now. But you're not wasting my time. Never.” you sobbed harder in his jacket “Just, please let me hold your hand, you'll be okay. I promise you, I'll keep you safe. Just let me hold you.”

“But I am fucked up Jimin, I don't deserve you to be for me.” you said as if wanting to push him away, but your hands were clenched on his jacket, begging him not to leave.

“I am fucked up too, and I don't deserve to be by your side yet I can't let you go” he said, pulling you even closer

“But-”

“Nah, now just breathe. We will get these broken pieces together."

[monkifuraibo]

Has he talked with Kensei about this issue? No, of course not. At least, not in any way directly. Shuuhei knows it's a bad habit of his to dance around subjects when he fears what will happen when the can of proverbial worms finally opens. If he forced himself to confront it rationally, he could reason that he needn't fear anything from Kensei, and yet… it's difficult to stop the instinctual conclusion upon making Kensei angry in any regard that he must be to blame for it. He's been doing better at catching himself, at least enough to admit to feeling that way rather than cowering in silence, but… that's far from making it magically go away.

"Not yet," he therefore couches. "I know it won't be a pleasant conversation, so… maybe I want to forestall bringing the high of being recognized by him crashing down into the cold reality where this is going to cause all sorts of problems for him."

After a little sigh, he asks, "Any tips on how to go about broaching the subject?"

--- Yeah, he expected as much.. Renji himself doesn't manage to keep his feelings in. Shuuhei is much better at grinning and bearing things than he, though Renji supposes that is not always a virtue. At least not for Shuuhei's own health. Renji's spoken to Byakuya about his concerns regarding his family many a time. Their distaste for him, personally, and their opinion with regards to his being beneath the noble. Not just for being a man, but being a commoner, to boot. Renji cannot even parse exactly which of those two bothers the Kuchiki elders more. Possibly his being a man, since he cannot give Byakuya an heir.. His late wife had at least had that potential, even if she had been a commoner, too. Like Rukia, her sister had been a nobody from the Rukongai, after all.

"I think yer doin' yerself a disservice thinkin' 'a this in terms'f how this is gonna bring him problems. Focus on th'positive, yanno? He didn't publicize this kinda thing without thinkin', right?" Kensei doesn't seem the type. "The good of yer bein' t'gether musta outweighed any potential bad." Maybe all the ninth's captain needs is support..? He seems the strong, stoic type, so maybe it doesn't occur to Shuuhei that he, too, might be at least somewhat apprehensive of his family's reaction. Not because of Shuuhei, but because of them.

But how to start talking about it..? Renji scratches into his sideburn, laughing self-deprecatingly. "I'll be honest, I ain't a star at that myself, I kinda just... Explode when somethin' bothers me," and Byakuya had to pick up the pieces and reassure him.. It wasn't the best pattern.

"I guess.. Askin' if he'd like ya ta be there when he tells his family might be a good way ta ask when he plans ta tell 'em without actually pushin' for a tight timeframe, 'r somethin'? But then y'd have to be willin' ta go if he says yes.."

[sjbodyofwork]

PSYCHOPATHIA AND PSYCHEDELIA

short diary entries about worship and resurrection in my creative pursuit

I write daily—it’s a habit that keeps me afloat. They say it helps improve focus if done properly. They also say not to revisit what you’ve written as diaries are meant to be kept secret. I do the opposite. Since I had nothing ready to publish this week, I decided to sift through my old diary entries and piece together a somewhat cohesive post. Every word here comes from a time when I questioned my creative pursuits and talent. And after reading through them—fixing a ton of mistakes—I feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like I’m standing bare in front of my readers. But to sell, you have to, right? Be naked, I mean.

P.S. I know the title has a mistake—it’s intentional ty <3

January

I haven't slept much and my job is draining my creativity. I find comfort in worship and commitment in habits.

To become great there has to be something that will push you to do the unordinary. The world is uncertain. You can’t choose to become great. Nobody knows your abilities. Your potential is completely in your own hands. To escape a 9 to 5 job isn’t so simple. It isn’t simply to work your ass off in a creative space and lose all sense of originality on the way of becoming something. But want it or not - our success is defined by our wealth. One does not recognize greatness without a price tag attached. That’s the way it works, and the harsh truth is catching up to me. To want to be creative is to also wish to find a new source of income. I’m stuck. Stuck in the loop. I’m a rat in a cage and a hamster in a bigger cage and I don’t know which is better. Writers without readers and painters without frames. Their names would’ve been lost if it wasn’t for their artistry and mastery in their own ways of working.

I sometimes catch myself yearning for a different life while planning my future. Sometimes the things I wish to complete seem so out of reach that my hands can't even make the effort. I often think that my life could've turned out completely differently if I had been more in tune with myself growing up. I was, however, quite distant from myself and others around me, and that made me feel like an observer. Being an observer has been my go-to response when someone asks what purpose my life holds.

I like to observe.

I observe people and phenomena, objects and concepts. It sometimes makes me sad that everyone can't experience life the same way I do. But the ultimate wish to be someone else, to be reborn, or to have never been born is a concept worth thinking through. What makes one's life something they wish to erase? Is it mistakes?

When it is too hard to truly exist in the moment, we wish not to. Since I've been through it all—depression and manic episodes—I know what it feels like to finally see some clarity in the pits of hell you're thrown into. I wish people who couldn't see life in colors could see the way I see. Without colors, life would be bland, they say, but I think that gives colors way too much credit. They're overrated, in my opinion.

Rebirth.

It's a weird concept. But a part of becoming an artist is that you have to come to terms with the weirdness of your past and present. It's impossible to escape but surprisingly easy to forget. Though, to forgive and forget aren't the same thing.

Find fuel from regretting. Explore your inner child they say as my tired hands can’t even pick up the pen. I’ve failed as an artist. I haven’t written a single word in weeks.

February

Is it psychotic to want the best for yourself?

Little girls like me are always taught to keep it to themselves—stay humble. Dream within reason. Aspirations should never outgrow your past; they should be logical, predictable, tethered to where you come from. But my tether is loosening. I'm slipping free. I'm many people at once—myself, and every version of who I could be. I'm not social, yet I dream big. I feel no remorse for my past self. The definition of psychopathy? No remorse. Extreme ambition. A relentless pursuit of what I want. 

I catch myself sinking into despair, reminded that my life has no ultimate purpose. And I envy those who believe theirs does.

March every time i write, i'm newborn every time i wake up, i'm newborn every time i laugh, i'm newborn every time the sun shines, i'm newborn every time i get a new haircut, i’m newborn every time i paint my nails, i'm newborn every time i finish a book, i'm newborn every time i laugh, i'm newborn

[my-dear-anonym]

Warping the Veil: Chapter 3 Sneak Peek

Warping the Veil Masterpost

Prelude | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2| Chapter 3

Read Full Chapters on Ao3

A Sovellan and Rookanis Story

Redcliffe

“Face it, Grand Enchanter, you need my assistance. Your people cannot survive long without.”

Lavellan’s instinct had been right. Rumors of a Magister are spread all throughout the village. Nobody seems to know what to make of it. Some of the mages seem grateful that he’s arrived to offer them a helping hand. Others are too scared of the looming templar threat to care all that much.

Lavellan cares.

The man in red, the supposed Magister, sits at a small table, talking with a woman in blue, Fiona: the previous Grand Enchanter before she had abandoned the post to join the rebellion. Lavellan sits a few tables away, pretending to be just another mage and listening in on their conversation. It’s easy enough to fit in. Just another elf gifted with magic amongst the refugee masses.

“I…will have to think on this offer for a little longer,” Fiona says slowly.

The Magister sits back, clearly disappointed. “Think quickly, you are running out of time.” His lips twist into a well-meaning smile. Fiona gets up out of her chair and leaves the tavern, her posture uncertain. The Magister takes his time to finish his drink before finding reason to leave himself. It’s only when the tavern seems to return to a more relaxed atmosphere that Lavellan leaves as well. Everybody here has different opinions about everything. Some support the rebellion, but many seem scared to be considered one of the rebel mages. There’s even those that wish to return to the safety of their Circle. Lavellan doesn’t blame them all that much. What would she do to return to her clan? Sometimes it’s easier to put up with injustice so long as it isn’t happening to you specifically, than to risk yourself and fight for change.

Other than the concerning presence of a Tevinter Magister, it almost feels like just another day in this village. It’s clear they’ve seen their fair share of disasters before. Those that seem the most frightened are the mages taking refuge. Those that actually live here go about their daily lives, seeing to chores and jobs. It’s safe within the defenses of Redcliffe, away from the looming presence of demons. And once one gets used to the greenish glare across the sky, it’s easy enough to ignore. Easier than admitting that the world may very well end.

It's almost amusing. Everyone believes that the end of the world is something no one would miss. That it would be so shattering and sudden that it would be over quickly, instantly, with no time for people to adapt or pretend. That’s never how it works. It’s a gradual fall until there’s nothing quite the same anymore. The world had already ended for the Elves and even the Dwarves.  This? This is just the aftershocks. The slap in the face for the Humans to catch up.

Her feet carry her along the homely paths of the town. She catches bits and pieces of conversation. Stops and talks to a few people, getting a better grasp of the current tension between the population and the mages taking refuge there. It’s an uneasy tension. Where is Grand Enchantress Fiona?

The Chantry

Why do Lavellan’s instincts pull there? Does Fiona think to find answers to her rebellion within the Chant?

It’s not far. Might as well check it out.

The Redcliffe Chantry seems similar to the one at Haven at first glance. There are a few people there. With the majority of the Sisters having been forced out of Redcliffe, the services are rather limited. There’s a man in white lounging in a chair, talking to a man dressed in yellow. The yellow clothes catch Lavellan’s eyes. They’re of the same cut and style that Alexius, the Magister, had been wearing. The two’s conversation stills and their eyes slide to her, almost disgruntled at her presence. She looks away quickly, trying to avoid the contact and make it seem like she’s simply a worshipper coming to pray.

Except, how does she do that exactly? She’d never actually been in a Chantry for religious purposes. Had never been in one until she woke up in one with a mark branded to her hand. Her feet falter halfway into the place, looking around. There are no sisters to help her with the process either.

She hears a chair scrape across the floor suddenly. “There you are! I’ve been waiting.” The man in white had jumped out of his chair and was already striding purposefully across the room towards her. “What took you so long?”

Bright, like the fish that kill you if you eat them. Can't hate you for hiding if you burn so brilliantly.

She looks him up and down. There’s something about his face. It’s almost like she should know it. Isn’t there a legend about that? Knowing people you’ve never actually met. Her keeper had told it once to her before, but she can’t remember it well. Something about the Fade and mages. “Who are you?” she asks.

He stops midstride. Arms drop to his side and his delighted grins turns to a worried frown. “Ah. Getting ahead of myself again, I see.” He dips into a light flourish of a bow. “Dorian of House Pavus—”

“Most recently of Minrathous,” Lavellan finishes for him. “How do you do?” She can feel a small grin creep over her face, but she can’t say why exactly, except that she’s happy to see this man.

Dorian pauses. “You evil thing, you had me going there for a moment,” he says. “Look, I’m shaking. I expect an apology of candied dates.”

Lavellan laughs. “If you think I’ve got candied dates, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Well, put in an order,” he says. “Maker! What have you done to your fingers?” he asks.

“Oh. Um…” she hesitates. Should she really be telling this stranger that she broke into the city? Well, he’s Tevinter, so either he’s with Alexius, or he’s also not supposed to be here. Logic strongly suggests the former. Her instinct is convinced it’s the latter. “Tar,” she says. “The guard wouldn’t let me in so I scaled the wall.”

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “That’s never going to come off. Try not to touch me. I’d appreciate it. I have an image to maintain.”

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[teetlestansecond]

NO BUT I HAVE THE SANS UNDERTALE JACKET AND THE MENTAL IMAGE OF LEO STEAL/BORROWING IT IS SO GOOD ACTUALLY??? HELP???

THIS INSPIRED A HOODIE THIEF PT. 2 HANG ON

raph! ❤️

Raph is the only one who didn't know you wanted to steal his hoodies.

what's his is yours! he doesn't think there's a need to steal!

now, we all know Raphie here is a big boy. like clifford, he was given plenty of love and it helped him grow.

but this means there's no way he can steal your clothes and wear them. he's simply devastated over this.

Raph has to improvise. adapt. overcome.

he starts stealing your shirts and turns them into things. pillowcases, stuffed animals, he's even working on a patchwork quilt.

it's all very sweet but for the longest time you're just so lost and confused because??????

where are your clothes?????????

because Raph really does steal them in bulk for a while until he overhears you complaining to April that you're just losing clothes at the speed of fucking sound.

he chills out a little bit after that.

you never would have guessed what was happening on your own, Raph just comes clean a couple of weeks after your hoodie heist.

he shows you the teddy bear made from an old sweater, and of course he shares the quilt, and you just have to take a second.

it's just so sweet??? he can't wear your clothes but he can still turn them into something he can enjoy.

from then on, anytime you decide you don't want a piece of clothing anymore, you leave it in Raph's room for him to turn into something new.

every time he finishes something new he brings it to you to see what you think and every time you just can't get over how sweet it is.

your boyfriend is just precious okay idk what to tell you.

Leo! 💙

now, Leo's hoping you won't steal his clothes. he knows better, of course, but he's hoping.

which is hypocritical because, of course, he's looking in your closet with envy. he wants that jacket and it taunts him day and night.

anytime you leave it unattended, he's putting it on. and listen. it fits like a glove. what's he supposed to do????????

he looks good in that thing, he's asked Donnie and Mikey both for their opinions and they both agreed with him. even you've given him compliments when you've seen him in the jacket.

Leo holds off as long as he can but ultimately he can't help himself anymore, and three days before your heist Leo comes over to hang out and, while you go to the bathroom, sneaks your jacket out onto the fire escape, out of your sight.

you totally miss it, and after kissing you goodnight he hops out onto the fire escape, grabs the jacket in one fluid movement, and he's off. mission: success.

it's three days of bliss, okay? he does think he looks like sans from undertale and he's so pleased over it.

but he gets a stain on the jacket on the day Donnie offers to do laundry, and the rest is a sworn secret that nobody talks about ever.

he's never going to forget it - the wide-eyed look of horror on your face, his hoodie in your hands, Donnie off to the side with a slow-growing grin taking over his face.

Leo can't imagine what expression had settled on his own face.

it's still funny to him though. sometimes Leo just chuckles to himself, and if you're in the room you always know what he's laughing about and then you start laughing and everyone else just has to sit there in confusion.

sometimes Donnie catches on and snorts, but then you both glare at him because he's not allowed to think about it.

the others all live on in confusion. there are myths and rumors as to how you two ended up switching jackets, and Mikey knows that Donnie knows, but he can't get the truth out of him.

mainly because Donnie's amused by the stories Raph, Mikey, April, and Splinter come up with.

Leo calls it the sans jacket and you just have to live with that for the rest of your life bestie.

Donnie! 💜

Donnie saw this day coming.

he knows the stories. he knows the drill. everyone wants their boyfriend's hoodie, it's a cliche that has held true time and time again.

not this time, though. Donnie isn't letting it happen. he's defending his closet with his life okay.

he actually really likes seeing you in his jackets and hoodies, and he's considered giving one to you before.

but you know how it goes. if you give a mouse a cookie and all that. by the end of it all Donnie knows he'll end up without a thread in his closet.

he's vigilant, he's careful, Donnie does everything right, or so he thinks. he wasn't counting on you being insane and bold as fuck.

that fateful day he really just doesn't see it coming. poor guy's just coming back into his room with some cookies and there you are, in his jacket.

the look in your eyes is absolutely feral and he'll never forget it.

he doesn't even process what's happening before you knock him over, and it takes him a minute after that to get up because he's just stunned.

he's scrambling after you and he still feels like he's got no clue what's going on. he's struggling to understand how this happened, how he could have been so blind and lower his defenses.

but he's impressed too. you really did that and as your place comes into sight he has to admit defeat.

it's not so bad. you're cute when you're so pleased with yourself and like i said he really loves seeing you in his stuff.

he's not letting it happen again, though. no way in hell.

you're monitored like a hawk and if you complain he'll tell a dramatic retelling of your betrayal to anyone who will listen.

Mikey! 🧡

Mikey also loves seeing you in his clothes, but he read about the mouse and the cookies too and he doesn't want to end up with an empty closet.

he knows you want to steal his stuff but he doesn't think you will. you're innocent in his eyes until proven guilty.

you can only imagine the shock he feels when he realizes that he's underestimated you, though. he almost can't believe it.

once he gets over the shock though, he has to admit it's absolutely ingenious.

you get the best of both worlds, really. his closet will always be full, and you get the hoodies and sweatshirts you want so badly.

because trust me, once you start with one you just keep going.

you've basically cloned his closet and Mikey can't help but laugh every time he catches a new doppelganger.

he doesn't ever intend to tell you, but listen. being a hero is dangerous work.

there's 100% a day some years down the road where Mikey thinks he's going to die and confesses to knowing.

he makes it out of the scenario alive, and you're absolutely relieved, but once things calmed down you and the others are asking all the questions.

Mikey is sitting there with the most smug expression in the world.

but you have to admit it's pretty sweet that your boyfriend's been indulging you this whole time, and you tell him so.

you guys live like that for the rest of your lives though, you never outright tell one another when one of you decides to clone a clothing article but you both chuckle when you catch a new one.

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

Of Homilies And Crosswords

Father Paul battles feelings and dreams he shouldn't have as a priest. Loses spectaculary. - Set before A Sweet Tooth. Ok, I'm currently on ✨writer's block✨ and this fic probably shows it. Yet, I did try to write this from Paul's prespective (more or less), therefore there are waay more (F/N)s [First Name] here than in any other of my fics. It's a little dirty, but only a little, as a treat, but what it lacks in smut it makes up in cheesiness. (If somethings make no sense, I’m sorry) Bone Apple Tea.

Of Homilies And Crosswords - 4.1K

tw: suggestive themes (not explicit 💦 dreams)

Father Paul never before realised how quiet Crockett Island really was when (F/N) wasn’t around. The young woman said she was feeling a little homesick, therefore she decided to go and visit her family, staying a week back at her birthplace. She left merely a few hours ago really, coming to bid goodbye to him before catching the Breeze, but Paul missed her already. It was odd, the priest supposed. He got so accustomed to her presence in his daily life.

It was just after 2 o’clock in the afternoon and father Paul sat behind the desk in his little rectory, elbows on the desktop, hands folded underneath his chin and just gazing into nothingness. Most days at this time he’d be sharing tea with (F/N), working on a homily for the next day while she sat across from him, either reading or doing crosswords. Every once in a while, she’d ask for his input on some particularly tricky clues and, in return, he’d ask for her opinion of his choice of words. Paul liked such afternoons, they felt calm and warm. Comfortable. They felt like home.

Currently however, the sermon he was preparing was half written on a piece of paper before him, long forgotten, with scratched over words littering the page. The priest finally sighed and straightened up, letting his hands drop onto his thighs. Perhaps a stroll would do him good, clear his head a little bit. Paul got up and walked over to his bedroom where he put on a soft dark-grey cardigan. It had been lying on his dresser where (F/N) put it a day before. The man smiled unconsciously.

In his mind’s eye he saw himself draping the cardigan over (F/N)’s shoulders during one of their walks around the island. She kept insisting that she wasn’t cold, but after an extraordinarily chilly gust of wind hit the bare skin of her arms and made her involuntarily shiver, the woman gratefully accepted the warm woollen garment and wrapped it around herself tightly. Paul thought she looked precious. It was too big for her, the sleeves so long only the tips of her fingers were visible. He insisted she keep the sweater for as long as she needed it. Her sweet scent still lingered on the wool.

Father Paul took a deep breath once he stepped outside. Cool air filled his lungs and he could nearly feel his red blood cells rushing to distribute the oxygen throughout his body, instantly making him feel somewhat better. He stretched his neck and back and set off in a random direction, not really set on any specific destination.

His stroll really did him good, offering a pleasant distraction as he made his way through the lonely little fishing town, engaging in some verbal exchanges with various islanders on his way. He even chatted up the Sheriff for a while. While they were divided in matters of religion, both of them were still pretty much newcomers and could relate in certain subjects, and so they did share the odd conversation here and there. When he returned to the rectory later in the afternoon, he felt a bit jollier and managed to finally finish the homily he started writing shortly after he finished confessions in the morning.

Father Paul ate his dinner (a portion of casserole brought to him by Dolly Scarborough), took a shower, brushed his teeth and slid into his bed in a set of warm pyjamas, intent on a little Bible study before settling for sleep. But now, in the quiet of night, when there was really nothing he had to do and nobody to talk to, he was once more becoming distracted. He sighed again when he realised that he read the exact same verse three times without really noticing. Closing the book, he laid it upon the bedside table and turned the light off. It wasn’t late by any means, but still the priest lied down and shifted until he found a comfortable position.

Normally, he didn’t have problems nodding off, generally managing to do so within twenty minutes of settling, but tonight was different. Twenty minutes passed, then fourty, then an hour. He flipped and turned, but it seemed like every position became uncomfortable after a few minutes. Then he was cold, so he walked barefoot to the living room to fetch the blanket that was draped over his couch. Not ten minutes after he lay back down under the double layer of covers, he started sweating and had to kick one of his blankets away again. Father Paul groaned in frustration. He couldn’t concentrate, he couldn’t sleep, what was he to do?

A beeping sound tore through the still and quiet. Paul opened his eyes and searched the room with his gaze. The opposite wall was slightly bathed in faint blue light. The priest got up again to walk towards his dresser where his phone was. (F/N) recently got him a simple smartphone. He still chuckled at the memory of her eyes adorably wide in shock upon seeing his old phone - It was already old by the time he got it, but he never really felt he needed a new one. He didn’t use it often at all, mainly for the occasional calls from his friends then, now from the dioceses, or the nursing home where Monsignor Pruitt currently resided.This time however, it was no call but rather a text message. A text message from (F/N). He carried the phone back to his bed and lied down again before opening the text.

“Hey,” it read, “I know it’s late and you’re probably long asleep, but I wanted to wish you goodnight anyway. x”  

Father Paul grinned at the phone and his hands began automatically writing a reply: “That’s very kind, thank you. Did you have a nice journey?” He waited a minute or two. Then came another ‘beep beep’.

“Yep. It’s great to be back. I’m so sorry though, did I wake you?”

Paul was on his side, phone in front of his face, and he was finally feeling comfortable in his position, pleasantly warm but not overheating like before. “No,” he wrote back, “I was awake,” the priest barely stifled a yawn and found himself surprised at how heavy his eyelids became. “But now that you mention it…” he finished his text and sent it. He was in the middle of another yawn when the phone beeped once more.

“You better get your beauty sleep, father ;) Night night then, sweet dreams! x”

“Sweet dreams to you”

Paul put his phone on the bedside table and closed his eyes once more. This time it took no time at all for sleep to claim him. The priest slept with a smile on his face.

—

“You’re in a fine mood today, what gives?” asked Riley, annoyed. For once, it was just the two of them, as Joe was on the mainland, visiting his late sister’s family, probably for the first time ever. Paul was awfully grumpy today and he didn’t even really know why. He actually blamed it on the day itself - he woke up tired and groggy after only barely five hours of sleep. In his hurry to get to the daily mass, he forgot to tie one of his shoelaces - which backfired in him tripping over it and spilling communion wine all over his purple chasuble. Then after Bev came to collect the vestment so she could wash it (condescendingly telling him to be more careful, because he ‘could’ve gotten hurt’ in the process), there came a very unpleasant sound from the kitchen sink. Father Paul went towards it to investigate and tried turning the water on. Only a few tiny droplets of water came out of the faucet before another awful loud sound rumbled through it. The priest squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger in frustration.

It was a shitty day.

He snapped at Riley during the AA meeting (for not even a good enough reason) three times exactly, and it was obvious the young man was growing impatient with the priest. Paul sighed (he felt he did that an awful lot these days). “I’m sorry, Riley,” he began, and he meant it, “I’m having a rough day. Which is no excuse, of course, I shouldn’t take it out on you, so, sorry.” Riley’s eyes softened: “‘it’s alright.” They sat in silence for a while. “If you need to, you know, we can just wrap it up for today and meet up again when you’re more… yourself. The priest looked at him gratefully.

Sturge was standing in front of the rectory already when Paul and Riley exited the rec centre and Paul locked it. They said their goodbyes and both made their way home. The bearded man held a bag of tools in one of his hands, waiting for the pastor patiently. “Evening , father,” he said once Paul got within earshot. He greeted the man in return and was soon unlocking the door to his home. He explained everything to the handyman over the phone, so Sturge immediately set off to work, leaving Paul to his own devices. Father Paul felt rather miserable about the entire day and was pretty content to just morosely stare out of the windows and into the darkness. Until…

‘Beep, beep’

His ears perked up and he started fishing for his phone in his messenger bag. It was another message from (F/N). He opened it, but instead of text there was now a picture. It was a photo of her, standing in front of a waterfall with sun shining into her face. She was wearing a simple outdoor outfit, complete with large hiking boots and a trucker cap and she was smiling wide, as if right at him. Paul thought she looked absolutely beautiful. But then again, she always looked beautiful… He felt blood rush into his cheeks at the thought and was very glad Sturge was currently focusing on his work at the sink and couldn’t see him,

Father Paul was very much fond of his friend, enjoying every second he got to spend with her, but then there was… the other thing. Something more was growing within his heart ever since he met the young woman. And as their friendship got stronger, so did this feeling. This entirely unpriestly affection. And Paul tried to push it away, and he tried to bury it, and he tried to banish it with prayers. And it always came back, twice as strong.

He thought back on their conversations, both lighthearted and deep. Their gentle touches, all within the safe ranges of innocent friendship… Unlike his mind. He thought how she looked as she slept beside him, no more than a metre away. Once he was ill, the other time she was hurt. He wanted to reach for her both times, wanted to enfold her in his arms and hold her. He never did, of course. It wouldn’t be right. Only thing he allowed himself was to squeeze her hand or give a single light caress to her smooth cheek.

Father Paul was perfectly aware how inappropriate his feelings were for a catholic priest, he did vow to a life of celibacy after all. However, as much as he tried, he just couldn’t seem to shake them off. He spent hours and hours praying, pleading to be relieved of them, begging to be forgiven and yet one look at her always made him realise the futility of such prayers. Because everytime she looked back at him, he could see her eyes. He could feel the intensity with which she was regarding him. He could still feel where her lips touched his cheek and his forehead, he had the sensation of her warm body pressed into his when they fell asleep on his couch.

When their eyes locked, he was nearly certain. Nearly certain that she felt the same, that if he was to trap her in his arms and crush his mouth against her own, she would answer him in the same way. However, every time he was just about sure he was going to do just that, a horrible fear trapped him in its arms instead, and he cowardly ran away with his tail between his legs. Figuratively, that is.

“Uh, father?” Father Paul jumped so much it managed to startle Sturge as well. “Oh, sorry, my mind is a bit… elsewhere…” said the priest awkwardly, glad to be able to blame his hot cheeks on embarrassment rather than the fictional images of him engaging in all kinds of fun activities with (F/N)(L/N). “Um, the faucet is fixed. The filter was completely blocked. I checked the bathroom sink and shower too, they’re fine.” Paul, now recovered, nodded and thanked the bearded man, offering to make tea for him now the water was running again. Sturge politely declined and said his goodbyes, leaving the rectory a few moments later.

Looking at his phone again, Paul discovered another text message.

“Went hiking, hope your day was ok! x”

The pastor smiled at (F/N)’s photo again and then, in a moment of (madness) courage pressed the call symbol. For a few moments, he only listened to the dull dial tone, trying to calm his hammering heart and then: “Hey!” sounded her giddy voice and Paul’s heart skipped a beat, “how’s it going?” And despite feeling anything but calm, Paul sat on his sofa and began telling the young woman of his misfortune that day.

“Well, at least the faucet’s running. Small victories, Paul!” giggled (F/N) when he was finished, and to his own surprise, he chuckled too. Somehow, all the irritation he felt throughout the day due to his bad luck faded away once he told her and he felt like he could breathe a little lighter. He inquired about her hiking trip and even managed to compliment her on the photo without embarrassing himself too bad or weirding her out.

They could have spoken for 30 minutes, they could have spoken for 2 hours, Paul didn’t really know, but finally (F/N) said: “As much as I love talking to you, you should really try to get some more sleep today. Bev’s going to be vexed enough you’ll be wearing a different colour chasuble until the purple one’s clean. If you were to ruin another one the very next day, the next time I’d be seeing you would be in a wooden onesie,” Paul chuckled softly. “Still, I’m glad you called, it’s nice to hear you.” “It’s nice to hear you too,” Paul murmured. There was silence on the other end. “Well,” said the priest then, “Good night then, (Y/N).” He almost heard her smile into the phone. “Sweet dreams, Paul. Miss you,” and with that she hung up. The priest’s fingers were holding the phone in a vice grip. He was doomed.

—

Paul really did fall asleep easily that night. In his dreams, he saw himself as a young altar boy again, carrying the incense between pews. His parents were so proud of him, smiling from their seats at the very front. The image shifted - now he was laughing with his friends from seminary, sitting in a quiet little bar where the bartender didn’t want to see any IDs. He never really attended some of the crazier parties his mates went to, being more than happy to simply hang around with them somewhere calm. It was gone in the blink of an eye. Now he was standing in Saint Patrick’s wearing a golden chasuble on the second Sunday of ordinary time and looking at his new flock. In one of the pews sat a girl with what he could only describe as an angelic aura. She looked into his eyes and his breath caught in his throat.

Finally, he was back in his bed, but… not really. It was still his bedroom, his bed, his pyjamas, but it was neither reality nor a memory. (F/N) lied beside him - no, not quite beside him as on top of him. Her upper body was flush with his own, her head was resting on her hand on top of his breast and she was looking through her lashes at him, a soft smile on her face. One hand came to caress his cheek and he could swear he actually felt it. “I wish you were here,” he said, for once with no shame and guilt, knowing she’d never actually know. Hoping He would never know.

The Dream sighed and pulled herself a bit closer, making him gasp. He could oh so clearly feel her soft body sliding against his, her skin smoother than silk. Only now it occurred to him that she was barely dressed, covered only by a lightweight nightgown. Paul blushed heavily as he felt his body respond. The Dream again stroked his cheek: “She could be here, you know,” she said in that voice he adored. “I’m not sure about that…” he said truthfully again and shivered when she moved against him once more. She giggled airily and pressed a single kiss to his lips. “You’ll see when she gets back. But since I’m already here…” And Paul moaned into the next kiss. Their clothes disappeared.

Paul woke red faced and ashamed, soaked with sweat, with a stained hand and ruined pyjama bottoms.

—

The next few days were all spent in a similar fashion. Father Paul would do his duties as a priest, he’d lead sermons, hear confessions, prepare homilies. He’d walk around town, stroll through the island, talk to anyone who wished to talk to him. He’d listen to Bev’s passive-aggressive remarks about everyone (whom she deemed) who was unworthy of God’s love, and he’d meet with Riley and Joe in the rec centre some evenings. Afterwards he’d eat and only then would he call (F/N).

They always talked late into the evening, sharing stories, laughing quietly. Every night, she would mention the amount of days until she came. ‘Just four more days, then you’ll tell me everything in person.’ or ‘Three days left, can’t wait for all the gossip over tea!’ . And everytime, before she hung up, the young woman would say ‘Miss you’. Paul never said it back. He missed her like mad, and he did want to tell her so, but everytime he tried his voice failed him and he just sat on his couch, dumb as a fish. And after that The Dream would come back… Sometimes he’d just hold her, kiss her, sometimes they’d just talk. Other times she’d do things to him, things his mind would never dare imagine while conscious. Every morning was the same - The priest woke up either painfully aroused or already spent. In both cases a cold shower would fix the damage, and a prayer for strength and forgiveness would follow.

He was doomed. At the start, he was just so intrigued by her, by her wit and charm… by her beauty. If he only knew just how much he would (and he supposed there was no point in lying to himself anymore) fall in love with her, he’d probably keep some distance. A lot of distance. Then maybe he wouldn’t feel like he’d been torn apart and sloppily put back together now she was actually away. The very thought of beginning to set that distance now made him feel nauseous. Paul couldn’t just stop caring, couldn’t simply end their strolls, their quiet afternoons spent together, but neither did he feel at all ready to tell her how he felt. Maybe he should though.

The Dream told him once that he’s going to go mad, if he only ever lets himself face his feelings while he’s asleep. If he only allows himself relief when he has no control. He told her he felt rather mad already.

—

Two days to go. Paul sighed and crossed his legs, letting the Bible in his hands drop onto his thigh. Afternoon sun shone through the rectory’s windows, basking the room in golden light. He had no idea what he was going to do when (F/N) came back, no idea what he was going to say. It had been easier before The Dream started visiting him - before that he could try to fool himself into thinking that they really are only just friends, that his infatuation is a silly little crush on a pretty girl and that’s it. He could at the very least attempt to convince himself that even if he was in love with her, he had no carnal desires, no want to break his vows.

But oh, he yearned now. The Dream awoke a part of him he had forgotten long before his studies, if he ever really had it in the first place. And it was frightening. He was so afraid now, so afraid of his own body betraying him in her presence now. His heart longed for her to be back already, and his mind cowered in a corner with fear of her actually being here. The uneasy feeling inside of him only grew until he could no longer just sit still and do nothing, so he bookmarked his page and got up with the intention to make some tea to calm his nerves. He was just about to put the kettle on.

Knock knock-knock knock

The sound, the rhythm so familiar now, made his heart skip a beat and he nearly dropped everything he was holding. While his mind raced and heartbeat increased, his hands subconsciously moved to retrieve a second mug from a shelf. A mug he never used, because she always drank out of it. (F/N)’s mug, essentially. Finally he inhaled deeply, gathered up his courage and walked towards the front door. His breath caught in his throat once he opened them. (F/N) was smiling wide at him from where she stood, hair a mess and face flushed, and next to her feet lay a duffel bag. It hit Paul that she’s just arrived on the Belle and came directly to him, not even taking the time to drop off her luggage at home. All kinds of emotions rushed over him like a giant wave. He had so much to tell her and no idea how much he could tell her.

“Hi,” she said then a little awkwardly, “I know I said that I’d be gone for two more days, but um… I came back early, I guess?” Father Paul could see heavy blush settling on her cheeks and couldn’t help but grin at her too. “Hi yourself,” he said only, before he wrapped his arms around her in what he hoped she’d see as only a simple friendly ‘welcome’ hug. He froze a bit as she actually curled her arms around his waist before he fully closed his own. Her forehead touched the priest’s jaw and he felt her nose bump into his collar bone, before the young woman shifted and tucked her head under his chin.

Father Paul’s worries all seemed to melt away and he gratefully squeezed (F/N) close, her scent filling his nostrils and making him feel warm and content. “Welcome back,” he said once he pulled away, though his hands were holding her shoulders still. Her eyes were so open and inviting, so soulful Paul was sure he’d find all answers to the universe in them, if he only looked deep enough. Their little moment was shattered by a high pitched whistling. “Uh,” he dropped his gaze to his feet, “tea?” “Oh yes!” she replied, enthusiastically, “I want to know everything that happened while I was gone. I’m interrogating, I mean, visiting Erin later.” The priest laughed as he led the way inside: “I’m afraid there’s not much more other than what I already told you. It’s a small island after all.”

Father Paul was not ready to reveal his feelings just yet, but something told him the day was coming.

—

That something was proven right merely a week and a half later, when he walked towards the rectory with a slice of cherry pie. And it was proven right once more, when the very next day (or rather night) his tongue was sliding softly against that of (F/N)(L/N) and her body was trapped under his own, hanging onto him like a lifeline. The feeling of her hands - her actual, real hands - carding through his hair and caressing every inch of him they could reach was a million times better than any dream.

No, not doomed. Father Paul was blessed.

Thank you for reading, as always you can find this work and the entire series on AO3. I’m a happy little potato for reviews ;-; k, i’m going to bed, sweet dreams, x

[mbti-notes]

hi i’m an istj. i fear the problem im going to describe is resolved by being more Te proactive and taking on more leader responsibilities and failing. just typing that out makes me feel burned out and miserable. anyway i get involved with groups that align with my values to get things done but it always feels like i somehow join things that aren’t as efficient as i’d want them to be or stagnate. at the same time that i have strong opinions about what to do i resent having to take on more responsibility to enact it. i want to be part of an established, moral, process/group but it seems like everything is in flux all the time. just making sure: is this Te-Ne dysfunction ?

Your question is about type development. An important aspect of type development is understanding the weaknesses and flaws of your type, in terms of the ways that your type tends to misuse functions. You seem to believe that your problem boils down to a simple lack of desire to lead in group situations (weak Te?), but it probably goes far deeper than that.

Si-Ne problems often manifest as a general aversion to change, specifically, unwillingness to change how one looks at a situation, which would then significantly alter one's approach to it. Imbalance between Si and Ne becomes a very unhealthy stubbornness when one is also prone to Si-Fi loop that thinks in terms of pure absolutes. In essence, you believe what you believe and you want what you want, and nothing and nobody can break through that mental wall. Perhaps not even you.

Auxiliary development is meant to help with Si extremes and Si-Fi loop stubbornness by making you care more about empirical facts (Te) than your frustration (Fi). It isn't always easy to develop the auxiliary function when you come to believe that it interferes with what makes Si feel most comfortable (e.g. "just typing that out makes me feel burned out and miserable"). If using the auxiliary function feels so "tiring", it doesn't mean that you should avoid using it. Quite the contrary. It's an indication that you haven't yet learned to use it properly, which means further development is necessary.

Te wants efficiency, that much is true. However, what separates immature Te from mature Te is how exactly one conceptualizes "efficiency". When Te is immature, one has a very rudimentary understanding of how to be efficient. For example, one is likely to believe that efficiency is achieved through assertiveness or even brute force, i.e., "making" things happen despite all the obstacles in the way. Is it any wonder that using Te feels tiring, then? You're essentially forcing yourself to swim against the current. Si doms are painfully aware that their energy is finite, so they quickly run out of steam.

However, Te isn't really about mustering up energy. This is not what makes TJs smart, strong, and formidable. Mature Te conceptualizes efficiency as reducing the amount of energy required whenever possible, which is why they have a lot of energy to take on very heavy workloads - some people call it "working smart". This is done through facing the empirical facts of a situation head on and learning to work closely with them, which makes it far easier to make them work in your favor.

Your problem requires a two pronged attack:

Are you able to change how you look at situations in order to improve your approach (to address Si-Ne imbalance)?

Are you able to face the empirical facts of the situation and work with them rather than against them (to develop better use of Te)?

Wanting to be part of a process/group that aligns with your values in order to enact some good in the world is an admirable thing to strive for. Presumably, the other people involved in the group have the same sense of mission, otherwise, they wouldn't have joined. However, what you fail to take into account is that people aren't generally single-minded.

Human beings are complex because they are motivated by a multitude of factors, whether they realize it or not. They are full of psychological conflicts, contradictory desires, irrational impulses, old baggage, and unconscious bad habits. And when you bring people together, all that stuff comes out and creates complicated entanglements. A "group" only becomes a "team" when it is able to overcome those psychological obstacles together, and it can be a very long process of learning how to maximize strengths and mitigate weaknesses in every individual member. That's why a lot of groups simply fall apart. While your intention to join the group seems simple and straightforward (because Si-Te is admirable in its ability to keep things simple and straightforward), other people's intentions might not be so simple. If you fail to take into account the irrational aspects of human nature, you will cause yourself needless suffering.

Your frustration with people is likely a manifestation of your unrealistic expectations of them. Perhaps you aren't able to understand people who don't resemble you, let alone work with them. And you will certainly be doomed to fail if the only way Te knows to deal with individual differences is to force everyone to become more like you. That's an impossible task, not because it requires the energy of a thousand suns as you assume, but because you're choosing to fight against reality. Mature Te would advise that you should first face down the empirical facts of how people operate if you hope to discover the most effective way to influence them. Your repeated experience of feeling disenchanted with groups tells you that you're missing an important piece of knowledge about groups and how they operate.

I'll give you a very simple example from my own life. I used to gather with a group of 30-50 people once a week to conduct planned discussions. The discussions never really started on time despite everyone being in their seats because people weren't focused enough at the start of the session. There was often whispering and sidetalking and such that would go on for about half an hour before the room felt settled and focused.

One method of addressing the problem arose organically. Whoever was the main speaker simply started shushing people and it became a thing. Sometimes, it would even escalate to calling people out, like a teacher scolding a student in a classroom. This definitely made the social atmosphere less inviting and more tense. Sure, people would shut up after being called out, but they became less focused due to seething with resentment. Power struggles aren't great for group morale, especially if it's supposed to be a group of equals coming together for a common cause.

It all sounds quite childish, but these kinds of judgments are useless. You can call people childish, inefficient, incompetent, etc etc, but it doesn't solve the problem. And, worse, being judgmental blocks you from understanding people better and working with them. Perhaps an ISTJ would see this as a "mess", an "inefficiency" that wastes time, and evidence of bad character when people break the rules.

However, if you change the way you look at the situation, you might not be so quick to make such judgments. Actually, it's kind of weird for a bunch of people who know each other well to enter a room and immediately sit down quietly. Humans have a natural tendency to socialize as a way to strengthen interpersonal bonds. Isn't group cohesiveness a good thing, since it encourages better cooperation? If you are able to see the benefits of their chatty behavior and how it contributes to group cohesiveness, then instead of fighting against it, you would think of ways to harness it.

The real problem wasn't inefficiency; inefficiency was merely the symptom. The more primary problem was that a lot of people joined the group not just to "get things done", but also to make friends. The structure of the event denied them from fulfilling that important need and then they were more likely to act out. This problem was discovered when people had a chance to talk about what was frustrating them, which meant that the group had to make space to conduct some uncomfortable conversations.

To address the problem, the group eventually decided that the first 15 minutes would be devoted to socializing and allowing people to catch up, with the explicit promise to get down to business when the time was up. Some people brought drinks, others brought snacks. Some even showed up early to have more time to socialize. It enlivened people and enriched their relationships. Being "officially" allowed to get the chattiness out of their system, they were better able to sit down and focus on the planned agenda. The meeting felt like fun rather than a chore. And if you're interested in a cause, don't you want to recruit more people to support it? Making things more fun is one good way to attract support. You can look at it as wasting 15 minutes OR you can look at it as a 15 minute investment.

Solutions to human problems require:

cognitive empathy: figuring out what's really going on inside people's heads (in Te terms it means working only with the empirical facts of the situation, rather than indulging negative Fi judgments)

strategy: taking the time to work with people and figuring out the best way to help them get over obstacles (in Te terms it means investing energy early and wisely to maximize your returns later, rather than putting effort into the wrong places or only stepping in to tackle mere symptoms of the problem)

creativity: harnessing natural human tendencies to produce something useful or worthwhile (in Te terms in means taking what's already there and transforming it into a NET positive, rather than getting too fixated on every little negative detail and losing sight of the bigger picture)

Te can be a great function for dealing with human problems as long as you overcome the immature aspects of it, such as impatience, bluntness, or inflexibility. Every person is unique, so every group is different. Let go of the idea that there is only one way to approach a problem/conflict and you will start to be more creative in your approach. By accepting the fact that things are always in flux and using empirical evidence to understand and predict how change works, TJs become much more effective and efficient at everything they do. When it comes to people, meeting someone different from you is an opportunity to learn how to deal with that kind of person. The more knowledge you have of human psychology under your belt, the better you get at dealing with people's weird or negative tendencies. If a strategy works, use it again. If it doesn't work, adjust it to fit their psychology better.

In your situation, you see the problem as people being inefficient, so your inclination is to step forward and do something to "make" them more efficient. Humans aren't built with the prime directive to be efficient. They're not machines. Their psychology is messy, so trying to force them to behave like a machine is to force them to go against their psychology. In other words, you're choosing the least efficient approach. The more efficient approach, though it requires more intelligent thinking on your part (you want to become more intelligent, right?), is to properly understand the more primary problem of what's really causing them to be so inefficient in the first place. That is the way to discover the right strategy. If you are able to target those obstacles at the very root, efficiency improves more naturally.

Oftentimes, working smart doesn't require you to step up and be THE leader for everyone. As an introvert, it's probably more comfortable for you to work behind the scenes to talk to people, get a better idea of what they need and/or what problems they're experiencing, and incrementally remove the obstacles that are preventing them from focusing on what they should be focused on. You can't fix everything all at once, so just do what you can to fix what you are able to fix at any given point in time. It's a process and some progress is better than no progress.

[blu-joons]

The Other Members Find Out That Your Pregnant ~ BTS Reaction

Jin:

All of you sat around the living room of the dorm as you did most evenings, only to be disturbed by a shriek of Hobi’s that came from the bathroom. Straight away he ran down the stairs, hiding something behind his back.

“Does anyone have any explaining to do?” He challenged before he revealed what it was that he was hiding.

Everyone’s heads shook, “what could there possibly be for someone to explain?” Jimin asked.

Hobi took a step forwards, throwing a pregnancy test onto the coffee table for everyone to see. You had sunk down in your seat as Jin reached forwards and picked it up, “I think I might be able to explain what’s happened here?”

“Y/N’s pregnant?”

“Yeah,” he proudly responded to Taehyung’s question, glancing across at your bright red cheeks. “I thought Y/N had done a better job of hiding the evidence for now, this wasn’t exactly what we had planned to tell you.”

“I’m just relieved no one had a one-night stand.”

“No one’s been bringing girls back to the dorm,” Jin chuckled at Hobi’s relief, “but thanks for ruining our moment to tell you guys we’re expecting.”

“Who cares how you told us? This is amazing news!”

Yoongi:

The boys were all growing impatient as Yoongi waited for you to make your way downstairs to tell them all your news. Questions were being fired at him from all directions, anticipating what you had to share.

“Are the two of you breaking up?” Jimin teased as you made your way into the room, taking a seat beside Yoongi on the sofa.

A laugh came from you, “do you really think we’d gather you up to tell you we were breaking up?”

Jinin’s head shook as Yoongi draped an arm tightly around your shoulders. “We thought we’d get you all together so we could share some more exciting news. We thought it was about time we told you we were expecting.”

“As in a baby?”

“What else Kook?” Yoongi sighed, rolling his eyes at youngest’s innocence. “We wanted to wait until we were sure everything was healthy, but Y/N was too excited to keep it all a secret from you guys for any longer.”

“I did think you’d been acting a little weird lately.”

“Sorry,” you blushed back to Namjoon, “but I hope you guys know that these mood swings and hormones are only going to get worse.”

“It sounds like we’re in for a long few months too.”

Hoseok:

Your hands gripped tightly onto the scan picture as Hobi opened up the door to the dorm, instantly greeted by a chorus of cheers from the living room as the boys were enthralled in yet another game with one another.

“You’re back!” Taehyung smiled, walking out of his bedroom, noticing how quick you were to move your hands behind your back.

You nodded back at him, “we only went out for a walk, it’s hardly like we went very far.”

His brows knitted together, quickly cottoning on to how suspicious the two of you were acting. However, his suspicions were quickly confirmed when he reached behind you and pulled at your hand. “Tae.”

“A baby scan?”

“Keep your voice down,” Hobi muttered, pushing gently against his shoulder. “Nobody knows yet, and you shouldn’t either, if you weren’t so damn nosey and on everyone’s back,” Hobi harshly muttered to him.

“I’m sorry, I never thought you’d have something like this.”

“You weren’t to know,” you smiled, a lot calmer than Hobi was. “Just please do us a favour and don’t tell any of the others just yet.”

“I’m the best at keep secrets, you guys can trust in me.”

Namjoon:

Your smile grew as you sat back in the studio and watched on as each of the boys opened up the bags that you’d given to them. Each one was packed, ready to reveal your secret that you’d been holding onto for so long.

“I don’t get it,” Jimin frowned, holding up the blue dummy that he’d lifted out of his bag, staring at it cluelessly.

The others all nodded, each holding up different items. “Is there a message in all of this guys?”

Namjoon nodded back at them, “think properly,” he instructed, waiting a few moments until Yoongi was the first to catch on to what the big surprise was. “It’s really not as difficult as you’re all making it out to be.”

“They’re having a baby.”

“Thank you Yoongi,” Namjoon chuckled, as finally the penny dropped for the rest of the boys as Yoongi informed them. “I really didn’t think it would be this much of a struggle to tell you that you’re going to be uncles.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell us you were pregnant?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Namjoon challenged back to Jungkook, “although I thought you’d all get it straight away with all the hints.”

“It all makes sense now that you’ve told us.”

Jimin:

The sounds of Namjoon groaning from the other side of the door caused Jimin’s heart to sink as he held your hair back. You didn’t intend to take as long as you did in the bathroom, but it was one of those things that couldn’t be helped.

“Are you planning on spending all day in there?” Namjoon questioned, banging loudly on the door, unaware of who was on the other side.

You let go of a heavy sigh, “I think I’ve got rid of it all, we might as well tidy up and let him in.”

Jimin nodded, flushing the toilet and spraying the aerosol, helping you to your feet before opening the door. Namjoon stood, stunned, when he noticed the two of you walking out together. “Sorry for such a wait Joon.”

“What took you so long?”

“Oh,” you stuttered, dropping your hands to your sides as you realised where they were resting. It wasn’t quick enough however for Namjoon not to pick up on it and end up placing all the pieces of the puzzle together too.

“Are you guys having a baby? Are you sick?”

“Maybe,” Jimin giggled, unable to hide the smile that grew on his face, “but none of the others know yet, please keep it quiet, for Y/N’s sake.”

“Don’t worry, when you tell them, I’ll act surprised too.”

Taehyung:

The moment Taehyung led the group of boys into the baby section of the clothes store had them all confused. It was an aisle they’d never walked down before, and one none of them planned on walking down for quite some time.

“Is this a prank?” Hobi whined from the front of the line that they walked down, following behind Taehyung’s lead.

Jin sighed at the back, “I was in the middle of a game, I didn’t quit it just to mess around shopping.”

Taehyung stopped once they reached a rail of baby grows, picking up a couple of his favourite ones and holding them tightly into his chest. “I needed to get your opinions otherwise how else is my child going to look good.”

“Your child?”

“You heard me,” he chuckled, as each one of their expressions dropped at his sudden words. “Don’t all look too surprised, I told you that there was a reason that I wanted you all to come out shopping with me today.”

“But we didn’t think you were going to tell us this.”

“I didn’t quite know how to tell you,” he grinned, placing the items into the basket that Namjoon carried. “You’re all going to be uncles.”

“But more importantly, our Taehyungie is going to be a dad.”

Jungkook:

Your head continued to shake as Jungkook pleaded with you to finally tell the others your news. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, but you were terrified that you were yet to reach the mark when these things were recommended.

“Will you please just listen to me?” You asked of him, “I don’t want to tell the others just yet, why can’t you see that?”

As you finished speaking, Yoongi walked around the corner. “What do you not want to tell us?”

You took a step back, leaving this one for Jungkook to handle. He sighed softly, feeling Yoongi’s deep stare watch his every move. “Nothing,” Jungkook whispered, but Yoongi was far from convinced, noticing your hand on your tummy.

“Are you pregnant?”

“Be quiet,” Jungkook snapped in a whisper, quickly realising his flash reaction had given your secret away to Yoongi instantly. “Please, don’t tell anyone just yet. It’s still early on, and we don’t want too many people to know.”

“You know that they’d all be thrilled for you?”

“Of course,” you smiled, finally breaking your silence. “But until we know the baby is fine, we don’t want too much of a fuss to be caused.”

“I get it, don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

---

Masterlist

[pippenpaddlopsicopolisthethird]

Top 5 anime you think are criminally underrated!

This is a really good question, and it was VERY difficult to keep myself to only 5. These are all anime that I think deserve a much wider viewership! (Plus five more!)

I ended up spending waaayyyy longer on this than I thought, I can’t imagine how much I would have written if you’d said top 10. I can literally talk about anime forever. Here’s some I wholeheartedly recommend.

1. Shojo Kageki Revue Starlight (Action, drama, romance)

This is my newest love, as of yesterday, when I binged the whole thing. The best way I can describe it is by mashing up other anime. Take Revolutionary Girl Utena, iron out about three layers of metaphor, and trim off all of the dark themes related to the Rose Bride. Then throw it in a blender with Madoka Magica and Love Live!, add half a cup of Gay Concentrate, and serve up the result: A character-driven drama about girls at a performing arts school, who settle their differences in magical-girl-fantasy duels styled as impossibly gorgeous theatrical stage-combat musical numbers. Beyond the flash and high concept, there’s a well-written cast, solid emotional core, and really engaging plot.

2. The Eccentric Family (Drama, comedy)

This show is my favorite genre of fantasy; mythical creatures living in the modern world, right under humans’ noses. In this series, humans only know tanuki as the cute little raccoon-dogs, but tanuki are really sentient shapeshifters whose goals are to outsmart the humans who live in the cities, pester the tengu who rule the heavens, live a life of freedom and trickery, and not end up on the inside of a hunter’s trap. The story follows a family of a mother and four sons whose widely-respected father was killed to end up in a human’s hot pot, as they try to enjoy their lives, live up to his imposing reputation, and unravel the increasingly suspicious circumstances of his death.

I have called this one “deceptively light-hearted” when describing it. My friend got halfway through the first season and came back to me with the verdict, “consider me fucking deceived.” This show has weight and does not pull its emotional punches, but neither does it ever stumble into becoming grimdark. Its worldbuilding is solid and the characters are all fantastically developed. Plus I wrote a whole post about one of the main antagonists(?) who I hadn’t even mentioned here.

3. Dennou Coil (Mystery, sci-fi)

Dennou Coil is a masterclass in worldbuilding, in my opinion. It’s a near-future sci-fi world, basically if Google Glass had taken off and become as common as cell phones are today. Many people don’t see the real world, they see the virtual textures of the world as they’re rendered through the glasses. Kids in one city have learned to mess around with codes, collecting tradeable fragments that break off the edges where the system glitches, chasing viruses that hide in pockets of obselete code in abandoned areas of the city where the software doesn’t get updated often. They spend their time after school saving virtual pets from being accidentally deleted by the city’s antivirus, trading tall tales about kids who get caught by the antivirus and get their glasses bricked, and spinning urban legends about ghosts waiting just behind anything that’s visibly rendered, waiting to steal kids when they least expect it. Every detail they introduce is critical to laying the foundation for the mystery that forms the show’s plot.

Everything about this world feels real in a way I’ve never seen in a sci-fi anime. It’s all grounded in a clear understanding of programming, and lives by show-don’t-tell. The stakes aren’t life-and-death; the kids tagging glitches like graffiti to distract the city’s antivirus software are only at risk of ruining their glasses, at least at first. The plot and escalation is perfectly-paced, and the mystery is so satisfying to piece together as it unfolds.

4. ID:Invaded (Sci-fi, action, thriller, murder mystery)

This show is like Psycho-Pass meets Silence of the Lambs. To catch a serial killer, you need to think like a killer, and nobody does that better than killers. A contraption called an “id well” can manifest an uncaught killer’s unconscious mind as a bizarre, unique, deadly terrain driven by stream-of-consciousness, and convicted murderers turned “detectives” dive into these wells to try to solve the mystery each well presents and discern the identity of other killers before they can strike again.

This show is a tightly-written, perfectly paced, edge-of-your-seat thriller. The two layers of mysteries inside and outside of the wells balance high-octane, big-screen action with tight, tense realism. Plus the soundtrack is an absolute banger.

5. Ping Pong the Animation (drama, sports)

Imagine if I told you that there was a show that, in 11 episodes, unpacked how patterns of relationships are repeated across generations, how the tradeoff between talent, practice, and who you are outside of your achievements can scar the spirits of kids, and what it feels like to wrestle with the tension between your core understanding of yourself and how others expect you to be. Imagine if I told you that every major character goes through massive restructurings of their fundamental sense of self and how they see others, and that every single arc comes to a well-rounded and satisfying end. Imagine if the animation style pushed the limits of both realism and absurdity, landing somewhere between rotoscoping and caricature, pushing the impact of action and stretching the character’s expressiveness without betraying faces that are animated like real human people. Imagine that it had a dub so fantastic that it sits next to Baccano and Cowboy Bebop in my mind, shows where the cast threw themselves into their roles with their whole hearts.

Now imagine that I told you that this story is told in the context of high schoolers playing ping pong, and that it’s arguably the best show I’ve ever seen. Go watch this show.

[happyselves]

Pacify Him { Daniel Ricciardo x reader } /// WARNING EXPLICIT ///

Chapter : One shot Rating : Mature / Explicit / NSFW Words : 3,622 words

“Pacify her, she is getting on my nerves, hold your bitch before I push her away. You’re free to bring anyone here as long as they are behaving, but her … I don’t judge the person you are seeing, obviously I could give two shits about it but please tell her to calm herself down … This isn’t professional.”

You were fuming as you entered Daniel’s driver room,as his PR assistante you never interfere in his frequentation, but when it was impacting the reputation of the team and bugging people visiting the motorhome you had to step him. You calm yourself after a few breaths, stepping aside from Daniel a bit before looking at him again.

“ I didn’t mean to come that hard on you Daniel, but please you know how this is important right. You always ask for my honest opinion and there it is, I didn’t mean it for it to step out this hard on you but I can’t apologize for my words when I was thinking about them. She is toxic for you, she brings the bad in you when you are someone adorable usually. What is happening to you that you don’t trust me enough anymore to tell me when something is going wrong ? And before you are shushing me off, you know I am right, you and I are a package deal. “

He was defeated, not even looking at you, his whole body was shutting down and his legs were giving up on him. He takes the closest seat near him, almost falling and barely able to sit gracefully like he used to do.

“ I don’t know … I am so lost, I keep doing stuff wrong, I can’t find my soul anymore, I’m not very myself recently, I can’t even find my smile being genuine in the morning when I wake up in the morning. I’m putting a mask for people to see, but I’m like an empty shell. This bitch as you call her is only here to distract me and try to make me feel alive. She is nothing and it was a mistake to bring her… “

You were very concerned about Daniel’s attitude, it was the first time since you have known him that he worries about you right now. You were kneeling in front of him, trying your best not to invade his personal space. It’s something new for you, not invading it, you never ever thought he needed one but he looked so fragile, then you were under the impression that if you were touching him he would vanish into dust.

“ You are scaring me, what’s happening, is it the team ? Something personal ? You know you can tell me everything … “ A long silence got installed, your eyes were starting to water by all the pain you were seeing in him. You thought he wouldn’t open up, he was shutting you out by the way his body was curling up and turning to avoid your gaze on him. He was protecting himself like a kid that was terrified of a big stormy night.

You wanted to be the one to reassure one, but you were practically sure you were part of the problem. You stand quietly, ready to leave him alone in his driver room because there was nothing you could do if he wasn’t letting you.

His reaction was imminent, the driver inside of him was popping up and his muscles memories acting for him as it was his turn to get up and close the space between you, shutting the opened door. You yelped out of surprise before feeling his pressing body against you. You were stuck between the wooden door and his warm torso. Feeling his heretic heartbeat pounding in his chest. You couldn’t speak, you were too shocked for that. You and him were friends, close friends but not that physically close. You never cross that boundaries, but today was different, you felt it was.

The seconds looked like hours waiting for the confirmation of your assumption. Daniel seems to be as surprised as you to have acted the way he did, it was too late to back away now.

“ Don’t leave … don’t walk out that door “ His forehead was now resting on the back of your head, slightly not to hurt you and put weight on it. You wanted to ignore all the fuzzy feelings flooding in your whole body, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you awakens a deep feeling hidden in you. “ The bitch will go away I promise, I am sorry “

Why was he apologizing to you, he didn’t disappoint anyone, yet. You weren’t even mad, you learn better to not judge someone's fucked up attitude when you could recognize the coping mechanics of someone keeping a secret and trying to turn the attention away from himself for nobody to catch the true meaning behind these actions. Does that make it acceptable ? It was each individual to have their own opinion. It was annoying you, that Daniel was suffering but preferred to distract himself and run away from his problem instead of talking to you or anyone else.

You close your eyes, your own forehead finds the cold surface of the door, his own head following yours not breaking the contact. HIs hands find the side of your hip.

“ The bitch isn’t the problem isn’t it ? “ You asked without any certainty he will give you a proper answer to that. His thumbs were caressing the skin of your hips through the tissues of your teamwear shirt, drawing a circle. You were sure he didn’t even notice he was doing it, his body was only responding to one mood and it was the auto-pilot one.

You were searching for breath and the driver’s room was starting to get tighter by the meanings, you were about to suffocate if the situation in which you both were wasn’t going to change fast enough.

“ You are the only one that can take away my pain … “ It could pass for a simple sentence if it wasn’t so Daniel, you had learned the code of conduct of Daniel Ricciardo and that … that was a declaration. “ It was you and I before, remember ? “

You were missing a piece of puzzle here, what was he talking about, is he drunk ? You never act differently around him, nothing changes, it never does. Yes it was him and you, always have been.

“ What are you talking about Daniel, you are confusing me “

“ Why did it change, the two of us … “ He was responding to your question by another one, like he was having his own conversation in his head, you were tempted to let him speak his mind to discover the bottom of the problem.

“ It didn’t change Daniel … “ You were trying as much as you could to put everything together, in vain.

“ It did change, I can’t look at you the same way as before … “ There it was, a little clue. If only he knew that it has been a long time since you have been able to look at him the way he used to when you meet him the first time. It was more than annoying you that he had brought someone with him for the weekend, more than it should. You were fuming when you saw the unknown name on the list of guests and asked someone to lighten it for you.

“ I know you are lying, why would you react the way you just did before if you weren’t “ You wanted to look at him, but his body was still pressing you against the cold wood. You had so much to say and him as well, all this unspoken tension you both tried to make yourself believe was a liar. You were both frauds, your friendship switched into something more months ago after a drunk night. Nothing happened that night, only looks were exchanged. The battle you both had as a joke at first turned into something way more deeper than you both were expecting and when you both tried to pull out of it, the damage had been done. That night was an epiphany moment for you, awaking the true desire between you. Your bodies couldn’t lie, the need for them to touch, the flaming sensation of his skin against yours like it was happening right now. Everything happened before and since that night, it never was the same thing for Daniel and everything went downhill.

You move your hand, posting on the door and Daniel understands the message and detaches himself from you. You slowly turn, god he was a mess and you bet you weren’t better.

“ You bewitched me that night, seduced me with your eyes. It was a game at first and now look at us, where is the game now ? “ He wasn’t accusing you of anything, it was a simple statement, an understanding between you. Two people were playing the game and two people ended up losing.

“ That wasn’t my intention, I tried to pull away, it was too late “ Who sounds defeated now, the tables have turned and he brings you down with him to the bottom of his misery. A couple bruises on your heart that he created was all you needed to have the proof that at least you two had shared a moment. It had to stay professional, but as his face was closing up the gap, all your convictions were being erased one by one.

You didn’t wait for him, you joined him in the middle, your lips connected quicker than he had anticipated, your eyes shut down in synchronisation. You didn’t who reacted first and kissed the other one back. That lip was perfect, far from it, it was messy just like him, but it was passionate. His teeth were teasing your bottom lips, asking permission to tear the flesh of it apart. You moaned when his tongue was inviting you to open your mouth. The taste of your two saliva was so intoxicated that you almost fell and he had to catch you with both of his arms, supporting you from your lower back. His smile came back to life against your mouth, letting out a childish giggle and you hit his arm to make him stop making fun of your lack of stability.

HIs reaction was quick, if you couldn’t stand up anymore he would use that door to help you. He pushes you toward it and your back gets lean on it, his arms unlocking themselves to explore your body, finding where they were before except this style the hem of your shirt came loose, letting the palm of his hand directly enter in contact with your skin, sending you shivers.

You had forgotten your environnement, too busy burying your own hands in his dark curls, bringing him closer as much as possible. Your teeth were still clenching and air was starting to lack in your lounge. You didn’t want to let go, scared for the reality to be brought back. You have been dreaming for months about this. Having the fantasy in your head when the night was setting and the moon shining.

DSaniel didn’t let you think for another second as he used this little moment of rest when you stop kissing him for a second, to lift you up, grabbing your ass, his palm firmly around it. He moves you and remembered to lock the door before turning back his focus on you as he finally break the kiss to look at you. Lust could be seen all over your two faces. His face was not showing any sadness anymore, only mischievousness and happiness. If you knew that all you needed to do to bring back the Daniel you knew was to let your own desire take over you, you would have done it sooner.

He took the direction of the massage table beside him, putting you on the edge before finding your neck and kissing the soft skin. You let a snort escape when his scruff tickles a sensitive spot behind your ear. He laughs against the skin and the vibration changes the snort into a whining complaint. He traveled all the way down to your clavicle but the fabric of your shirt was stopping him. He didn’t wait for your approval to remove it, the force of the removal making you lift your arm automatically. They fall back on his neck when he throws the piece of tissue somewhere you will have a hard time finding back.

That was extremely hot from him and by your legs starting to spread a little bit and the heat you were starting to feel between them, he noticed acknowledge the effect he had on you and smirk, visibly proud of himself. It was not the time to hide yourself even if you could feel embarrassed, this man in front of you was everything you had dreamt of and it had the talent to make you feel confident of your body, just by the way he looks at every detail of your body.

You were eager to let him take the situation under his control and only his, not doing anything and just being the prize he was working on to have for so long. All the torment, the torture and the conviction he will never have you, he deserved it. You will get your prize another time … it was only the beginning for you.

He was taking his time with you,no matter how much his desire was waking up, he had one mission and one mission only; your pleasure. You could see the forming bulge in his pants and felt for him, imagining how inconfortable it must be for him.

It all went to dust when his hands found their way under your bra cupping your breast and his lips traveled your chest as he was kissing his way down. He was leaving wet kisses and blowing air on it, goosebumps started to appear quickly, head being jolted back.

You wish you knew what to do with your hands but they were gripping the leather of the massage table so hard your knuckles were getting white by the second. He didn’t seem to care as his hands found your pants, he pushed you a bit behind, making unspeakable demands for you to lift your ass so he could slide the piece of clothes down for it to join your shirt somewhere in the room.

You could barely keep your eyes open as you witnessed the extremely hot scene in front of you. Daniel between your legs, keeping the same pace with you, kissing his way up toward the inner of your thighs. You sensed his teeth nibbling your skin, licking every spot afterward, like he was trying to heal the pain he just caused you. Little did he know that pain you were feeling was arousing you even more, your panty was starting to visibly licked your excitement. It was feeling like torture, you thougth that Daniel would be like the others partner you had, your skin would get used to the touch after a moment and the horniness would stop at a certain level, thinking you had reach the maximal of his possibility. How wrong were you when you were on the verge to cum without him actually pleasuring you in this area. You knew it was coming, Daniel kisses were more hungry, teasing the flesh of your thigh turning red by the bite and the kisses.

His lips were swallowing, getting bigger by the unusual exercise they were carrying on, his tongue would feel numb if it was for the desire he had to taste you, letting it survive for a couple minutes still. You watch him, leaving a kiss on the wet fabric of your underwear, your eyes were blurrying by the anticipation of him finally finding your clit. His teeth end up moving the piece of dentelle that was the last barrier between you and him.

It was like he was home and belonged there, here with you, right in this instance, it was you and him against the world. Forgetting your environnement you let a cry escape a little bit too loud as soon his thick tongue was licking arousal. You thought that seeing the start was a legend, a fantasy, but Daniel had made you become reality as your head was banged back, finding the cold wall, your neck was stretching so hard that the blood was lacking in your brain making you see some sparkling spot. He needed you to stay quiet and as he tried to put one of his hands on your mouth he ended up finding the neck instead, squeezing it enough for you to moan his name as he was continuing his exploration of your pussy.

Your hands finally leave the grip of the massage table to find their new place around Daniel's arm. You were stretched out in front of him, so vulnerable, just for him and you were unable to give a proper reaction to being buried in the pleasure he was giving you. His tongue was teasing your entrance, making it hardening, pushing himself in you as you will. The thumb of his free hand was moving in a slow circle around your clit. He didn’t know the dilemma you were encountering, keeping your eyes shut and your head back or fighting his firm hand on your neck for you to see him eating you alive. You sure had to make a decision quickly because you were soon to arrive at the edge before you will let the orgasm consume your whole body.

By the sound you were making, Daniel had the confirmation he was doing everything in the right way for you. He never experienced such joy to make someone lose their composure due to his actions. He was feeling proud that he was finding it out with you. Every woman he had been with didn’t sound or look as beautiful and real as you spread in front of him right now. He could spend hours tasting you, how good you were for him, how reactive and sensitive your skin was becoming after being torn apart by him. How the thought of fucking you with his tongue had haunt his dream for the past couples of month now, but the reality of this was surpassing all his expectations. He wanted to be rough with you, all the dirty thoughts came back rushing into his brain, overwhelming him and sending twitch to his dick. Rather than being dominant, it was all about showing you how much he had wanted you and how willing he was to give you anything you wanted, because you deserved it. You deserved for him to make you forget every man you had sex with. Replacing all the bad and good memories with his own. Changing all the faces in your dream, planting his own in the own DNA of your imagination.

He could feel that you were holding it together for it to last longer, even if that meant losing the self-control you had in you. Your wall was tightening around his fat tongue. You were completely losing your mind at the foreword of sensation throwing at you at the same time. You were sure it was too much for one person and you could care less about the verbal explosion you might have in a couple of seconds. Daniel however, foreseeing your release, put two fingers in your mouth holding your jaw from your mouth, your lips closed themself around them and your tongue was soon relaxing on them. You bite his knuckles when his tongue replaces his thumb in one flick of the tongue, finally letting cum. Your legs were shaking and Daniel had to hold you for you not to hurt yourself, your eyes were rolling back as your orgasm hit you in small waves, sending you jolts of electricity around your body. Your brain was shutting down, the stifled moan never reaching the exterior of your mouth, dying down on Daniel’s fingers in sensual vibration that made his bulge react, begging to be taken care of.

It tooks you minutes to come back to the open world, Daniel’s eyes not leaving you for a second, admiring his work. You slowly come back to reality and automatically search for him, missing his touch already. Your eyes were still not open when you found the collar of his shirt and pulled him rather violently, crashing your lips together, taking a taste of your own juice still lingering on his lips. You sigh in the kiss, reassured that what just happened wasn’t just a dream and that you were far needing to wake up from it.You rest your forehead on his, the wave of pleasure was still leaving some after effects on you including dizziness.

You had to clear your throat as you realised no sound was coming it out the first time you tried to speak.

“ That bitch needs to go, tell her you replace her with a more living version. “

You couldn’t help but laugh at your own words and Daniel was smiling at the way you just described yourself.

“ She’s already gone, she was already gone before you burst into my room.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, but one thing for sure is that you will have a hard time making people outside of this room say that nothing happened between the two of you. At least you would not pissed them off and you were able to pacify him at any time.

MASTERLIST

[silenceofthecookies]

Author san!!! Can I use my free pass for the Black bull team pleasee!! I am sure one piece requests will flood away but I wanna read about the black bulls team so much. Fluff/Romance HCs. It can be anything like first meetings or kiss idk what ever you wish and feel like writing. Its your choice. The black bulls, I love them so much especially Zora... I absolutely fell in love with his charecter design, his outfit and his personality. Sadly he is not that popular. Please do justice for him. Thankyou!!!

Hi Abhi! I’m so glad to see you requesting something for the Black Bulls, they are such an amazing squad! For this one I decided to go with first kisses, since I recently wrote more kissing headcanons and I think they’re surprisingly fun to write UwU Zora is up first, and since you mentioned him not being popular, I decided to put more of the less-popular Bulls in here! I hope you enjoy ❤

Zora Ideale

Behind his though exterior, Zora is actually a little bit of a romantic. He doesn't quickly grow attached to someone, let alone fall in love, but it happened. Zora believes you deserve someone better than him, but you picked him so he'll just have to be the best version of himself for you.

He'll make sure the setting is right for the first kiss. Some place away from people, some please you can relax. Probably one of your favourite places. A first kiss should be memorable, right?

He'll place his hand on your cheek and lean In slowly, giving you enough time to turn away in case you'd be uncomfortable. He half expects you to punch him in the face or something.

The kiss is soft, your lips just barely touching. Zora is a little worried he'd hurt you or make you uncomfortable, and his pointy teeth may or may not be part of that worry. He's not changing them though, he likes them this way.

When he takes his hand off your cheek after the kiss there's a stinkbug on there. Zora wouldn't be himself if he was a perfect gentleman, right?

Charmy Pappitson

Your first kiss with Charmy will be kind of spontaneous, a kiss that will surprise both you and Charmy. It will, however, also be a sweet one, in more ways than one.

You and Charmy will just be relaxing, eating something sweet Charmy has made. Cupcakes, donuts, anything. As you're both enjoying it and gushing over the taste, Charmy notices a bit of frosting/filling/whatever stuck just above your lips. She'll point it out, but instead of describing exactly where it is so you can remove it yourself, she'll grab her chance, quickly lean in and clean it up herself.

The kiss lasts about a second, it's over before you even realise what just happened.

Charmy herself is a little surprised at her sudden bravado and looks away with a blush on her face, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. She liked it alright, but what if you didn't like it?

She'll be so taken off guard by her own action, that you have the perfect opportunity to lean in and place a kiss on her lips, this time a proper one. Once your lips part, she will be laughing awkwardly, probably avoiding your eyes by looking at the sweets.

Asta

“Y/n! Can I kiss you?!”

It's Asta's typical stressed/flustered way of shouting and even though he asked you away from other people, you're pretty sure anyone within the vicinity has heard him yelling.

Once Asta falls in love, he wastes no time getting his feelings across. He has no problem proclaiming them to you, be in privacy or in front of others. Once he knows you return his feelings, he will be so ecstatic that he forgets everything else. Including that he wants to kiss you.

So somewhere between 30 minutes and 3 hours after he confessed, he will be asking you if he can kiss you. When you say yes, he'll step closer to close the distance between the two of you, put his hands, which you can feel are a little sweaty because of the nerves, on your cheeks and slowly closes the distance.

The kiss itself is very careful, Asta has no idea what he's doing and he doesn't want to do anything wrong either. First kisses are special, right? He keeps his lips pressed to yours for a few seconds before pulling away with a big grin.

Grey, Henry, Luck, Noelle, Gauche, Gordon and Secre after the cut!

Grey

Grey is just not doing it. She's way too embarrassed, and there's just no way she can get herself to ask you to kiss you. She'll consider catching you by surprise and just doing it, but what if you don't want a kiss? Or what if she does it wrong?

She's an absolute mess. She'll ask Gauche and Noelle for help, but their advice is simply ‘just ask it’ or ‘just do it’. It's no help to her, which only makes her believe even more that she's a lost cause.

She will make several attempts to ask you, but she just never can get any further than the word ‘can'. The stuttering already starts when she calls out your name to get your attention, and after a few attempts to ask ‘can I kiss you?’ the embarrassment becomes too much and she transforms herself into the big guy. She's not finishing that sentence and no matter how much you ask her about it afterwards, she won't complete it.

Ideally, she'll wait for you to kiss her first. It'll still be super embarrassing, but at least she won't be the one who has to make the moves.

Henry Legolant

Henry is a little hesitant about kissing you, he knows what effect he has on the people who come too close to him, but he really wants to! So he'll think about it for a good while before hatching a little plan.

On a moment when nobody is around, he'll call out your name, step closer to you slowly so you can step away if you become uncomfortable, slowly leans in when he's close enough and kisses you. He has his arms around you to support you, in case he's draining too much mana from you.

The kiss is soft and slow, and he stays close to you for a few seconds, not wanting to part from you too quickly. He tightens his hold on you a little, enjoying the rare feeling of being close, certainly this close, to someone.

He'll then hand you a little plate of food he had asked Charmy to prepare for him beforehand and step back to give you some space. It's Charmy's special food to restore mana. Of course Charmy was in on his plan, he had to tell her to get her to make something for him, and unknown to you she's sneakily watching through the keyhole of the door to see if their plan worked.

Luck Voltia

Luck didn't plan on kissing you today. Luck doesn't plan on anything. He always goes with the slow and his only goal is for the two of you to have fun. Aside from that, it really doesn't matter what happens. Though if fighting or pranks are involved, that's a plus! And that's exactly what put him in a good enough mood to kiss you.

The two of you had just played a huge prank and were running away from your poor victim, who seemed about ready to murder you. You were laughing like maniacs as you ran and you eventually lost them. The two of you now stood still, catching your breath and laughing.

That's when he does it, suddenly and unexpectedly. The kiss is story and sweet, gone as soon as you felt it. Just a little peck. Luck simply keeps smiling at you while you're trying to process what just happened. He'll start laughing at your reaction, and it makes you unable to stop yourself from laughing as well.

The whole situation is a little absurd, but there's no uncomfortable silences, no tension, no awkwardness. Just your boyfriend playing a little prank on you, one you certainly don't mind.

Noelle Silva

Noelle is going to do everything in her power to make you be the one to kiss her first. She's a royal, she shouldn't be the one making the first moves. Right?

She's tried to a few times, but she just gets too embarrassed every time and chickens out. Hence her new plan: make you want to kiss her. You're already attracted to her so it shouldn't be too hard, right?

She'll put some extra effort into looking pretty, and she'll try to bait you with things like a subtle with pretty lipgloss, or by leaving a little bit of food hanging on her lip. She's not the most subtle person, so her message should come across pretty easily. It's up to you whether you want to tease her a little about it and pretend to not notice, or to just give her what she wants.

If you keep ignoring her hints, she'll eventually find a moment to just tell you that you can kiss her. Mostly likely when you've gotten her something or done something for her.

“You did good, as a reward, you're allowed to kiss me.”

No, even though she said it, she's still not making that first move herself.

Gauche Adlai

Gauche is not a very subtle person. When he wants something, it's obvious. Usually he just makes sure he gets it too. You, however, are the one exception to that. The one person aside from Marie that he's careful with, about whose opinion he cares. So, instead of just kissing you right the moment when he feels like it, he waits a little.

He's not too worried about setting up a good romantic setting, that's not what matters anyway, it's the kiss that matters, but he does try to get some privacy for that moment. He doesn't need people commenting on him kissing you when he does, it's a pain in the ass.

But getting some privacy with the Black Bulls around is nearly impossible, and Gauche is struggling to even create such an opportunity. His patience runs thin pretty quickly, he just wants to kiss you already, so he pulls you away behind a corner, pulls you close to him and kisses you there.

The kiss is a little on the rough side, mostly due to Gauche's annoyance at the whole situation and at how long he had to wait. He calms down pretty fast though, now that he's gotten what he wanted.

Gordon Agrippa

Gordon usually goes with the flow, letting you take the lead, letting you set the boundaries. It was like that in his friendship with you, and it will continue to be like that in his relationship with you. However, you two have yet to have your first kiss and he's getting a little worried about it. So this time, he decides to make a move.

When the two of you are relaxed and away from prying eyes, he'll just talk to you about it. Not in a sad or an accusing kind of way, but in a way filled with curiosity. Were you shy? Were you uncomfortable? Did you just not want to? Were you waiting for him to make the first move? Despite the somewhat weird topic, it's a comfortable conversation.

Once you let him know you're comfortable with it, be it during that conversation or later, he'll carefully cup your cheek in his right hand, put his left hand around you to pull you close and then he'll kiss you in a soft yet sweet kiss. Nothing too overwhelming, just a relaxed and loving moment.

Mind the lipstick stains though. The other Bulls will have a riot when they see them.

Secre Swallowtail

Secre never really thought too much about kissing you. Sure, she loved you, but physical displays of affection are not really her forte, nor are they extremely important to her. She always figured that if you wanted to kiss, you'd come to her and kiss her, simple as that.

However, when Vanessa, be it in an alcohol-induced haze, informed her that kisses were needed to assure the other of your love for them, she got a little insecure. Was that the ramblings of a drunk woman? Or was there some truth in that and were you doubting her love for you?

She remembered Tetia and Licht, and how happy they seemed when they kissed, so there must be some truth in it at least, right?

So she asks you if it's bothering you. Expressing her emotions aren't her strongest point, but you can see some worry and uncertainty in her eyes. If you assure her you're fine, that's that. If you let her know in any way that you would like to kiss her though, she'll lean towards you and place a quick peck on your lips. The contact doesn't even last for a second, but Secre can't help herself from smiling. Maybe kisses were better than she thought.