#this is my mantra anymore lol

[leothelionsaysgrrrr]

I have been making some progress on writing The Swim Upstream since playing Veilguard, but going between the two has been pretty jarring. I’m proud of Rook!Rexus. I’m SO proud of him. He’s still got some issues with acceptance of his past and the person he used to be, but he’s done the work to rise above it, own his mistakes, learn from them, and be better. He can be a good friend and part of a team, love genuinely and selflessly and push himself to do the right things, even if they’re hard.

Meanwhile, TSU!Rexus is a hot mess who treats every interaction like a power struggle and is currently bemoaning the consequences of coercing a bar maid into rifling through Emma’s room at the inn for him and then telling her boss she did it so she would get fired and he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore while telling said former bar maid it was actually all her fault.

Oh well. At least I know he’ll get there eventually.

[ahalliance]

vi arcane is making me see the naked but bandaged chest potential and i may be making adjustments to my post code death qetoiles design

[thatone-churro]

dauntless update looking so bleak it’s got me checking out monster hunter

[rosenclaws]

Hi!! I’d love to see you do the prompt “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” with Logan! Was thinking of the reader who’s so self loathing of her own powers opening up for the first time towards Logan 🥺

warnings: angst/fluff, Logan has interesting teaching methods lol

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.2k

a/n: So this also...turned into more than a drabble oops. I got carried away I can't help it asdflk;h. Anyways I totally got inspired by ATLA for some of the logan pep talk if u can tell lol.

The mansion was so lonely. It shouldn't be but it is. Especially for you. Brought here as a child you grew up here. You were excited, hopeful that maybe you could start a new life here. But then your powers went haywire.

Just when you thought things could be different your emotions got the better of you. Fire raged through the mansion and you couldn't stop it. The more you panicked the worst it got.

When the flames were put out all you could see was the destruction that ravaged the once spotless mansion. It was an accident. Charles knew it and so did everyone else but that didn't stop the whispers, the fear. You never wanted this.

You did all you could to suppress your powers for years. Leaving the school and never looking back. Years passed and you managed to live a quite life. You went to work and went home. It was a lonely life but you couldn't hurt anyone so it you learned to live it.

Then one day you got a letter from Charles. It was a matter of such importance that you had no choice but to return. It was weird being back.

It was in the dead of the night that you found yourself alone. Just as you remembered. This time wandering through the halls of the mansion. Your fingers traced the familiar paintings and furniture. A frown coming over your face as you trace the faint scorch marks that still remain.

"So those were you." A deep voice startles you.

You feel a light flame escape your fingertips as you shove you cross your arms and hide your hands away. There stands Logan with a cigar in his mouth. You breathe a sigh of relief as you lower your arms.

"Sorry, didn't meant to scare you." He holds out his cigar and you roll your eyes. He's been trying to get you to use your powers, to light his damn cigars because he's too lazy to reach into his own pocket.

"Come on, just a little flame." He says with a smirk.

"Can I help you Logan?" Though you're glaring he can see that small smile.

You and Logan were unlikely friends as you put it. The two of you understood each other. Understood the want to hide away. Don't get close and you won't get hurt. Even with that mantra somehow you were each others exception.

Maybe it was stupid but having Logan was nice. He was nice in his own weird way. Looked out for you, joked with you on the rare occasion. Plus he was easy on the eyes, but you don't let yourself go there. Love...it's just not meant for you. You don't do love and neither does Logan. Even if you want it, even if sometimes he finds his way into your dreams.

"Nope." He gestures for you to follow him so you do. Walking quietly through the halls until he leads you outside. A chill washes over you step outside.

"Just a little light for me sweetheart?" Okay the first time was charming but now it's getting annoying.

"Will you quit it." You snap. Logan raises an eyebrow and you sigh. Sitting down on a bench and looking down at your hands.

"You know I don't use my powers anymore."

"I know."

"So why do you keep asking?" He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Because, I think you're being ridiculous."

"Excuse me?" You scoff. You clench your fists as you glare at Logan.

"So what you burned some wood big deal. That really all it takes for you to run?"

You're hurt and confused where the hell this is coming from. You thought he'd understand you but clearly you were wrong.

"You know what Logan fuck you." You hiss as you stand up.

Logan grabs your wrist before you can walk away and in a fit of anger you push him away. Flames coming out of your hand and hitting him square in the chest. You gasp as his flannel catches fire. Without thinking you press your hand and kill the flame.

"Logan I-"

"Stop." He grabs your wrist and points to an empty fire pit.

"Light it."

"Logan I can't."

"Yes you can sweetheart," He tilts your head towards him. Looking at you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Trust yourself." You take a deep breath and send a fireball into the pit, lighting it up.

Your hand tingles as you use your powers for the first time in a long time. You wait for the other shoe to drop. For the fire to rage past what it's meant to be but it never does. Slowly you hold your hand out focus, the fire slowly gets smaller until it's snuffed out. You stare at your hand in awe. Control. You had control.

"Fire is destruction." Logan interlaces your fingers with his. He's got this smile that you've never really seen before.

"But it's also life, it's beautiful. You're beautiful." You bite your lip as he squeezes your hand. There's a fear that you'll burn him without thinking but he heals. You can't hurt him.

"Why are you helping me?" Why does he care this much? He didn't have to do this, you're not a student and yet here he is. Pushing you past your worries.

"I..." Logan tries to find the words. You're right he doesn't do this but he did for you because, well because..."I love you sweetheart."

Your eyes cloud with tears as you take in his words. He doesn't mean it can he? I mean, it's does he understand what that means. What it means to love you.

“Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it. Please." You don't think you could handle it. He's already got your heart and it won't take much to crush it.

"Are you doubting me? I'm over a hundred years old I know what love feels like." Logan brushes your lips with his thumb, he's not great with words but he knows what he feels. No one can tell him any different.

Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you. He smells like cigar smoke and he tastes like honey. The kiss a little rough, you can tell he's trying to hold back. To be gentle which he's not always great at. You pout when he breaks the kiss, already wanting more.

"Later." He promises after noticing the look on your face.

You walk back through the mansion hand in hand. It's better at this hour, no prying eyes and whispers. For now it's just you and him. Though something does cross your mind as you reach your room.

"Did you...Were you trying to make me mad on purpose?" He smirks and pulls out another cigar from somewhere.

"It worked didn't it?" Unbelievable.

"You're an idiot Logan, what if I couldn't control it? What if I burned down the mansion, again?!" Logan rolls his eyes and kisses you again. Pushing you against the door. Your thoughts turn to mush as he kisses your neck.

"You aren't the monster you think you are." He whispers and you freeze. His words hitting you like a brick. Logan knows what it's like to be a monster, a weapon. He's the monster if anything. But you? You could never be. Not in his eyes.

Before he leaves he hands you his cigar. You shake your head and laugh. Holding out your hand you produce a small flame and he lights his cigar.

"Was all this just so I could give you a light?" You ask teasingly. Logan chuckles and presses another kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely." As much as you want to invite him in your room, you decide to wait. Rushing anything with Logan is the last thing you want. You want the time to be together. A good fire needs to grow before it becomes a roar.

"Goodnight Logan."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Your fingers slowly unlace as he walks away. You don't want him to go, fearing that this is just a one off night. There's no way you can have control so easily but then he looks back at you. He's got this look on his face that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright and for once you believe it.

[rosemariiaa]

𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 01, 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙪𝙨𝙚𝙧.

“I wish I was a normal girl, oh, my How do I be,

how do I be your baby?”

˖˙ ᰋ ── pairing: Paige x Azzi

˖˙ ᰋ ── synopsis: tell the truth?

˖˙ ᰋ ── rosie note: ahh first chapter! i’m really excited to see how this series goes..(i hope you guys are too). i do wanna say I will not be dropping chapters back to back just because ik each chapter will be long enough and also i have other things to do. but you never know what i have up my sleeve sooo just wait! i actually did cry a lot writing this so yw. happy reading lovelies 💌

˖˙ ᰋ ── themes: hurt/comfort, mentions of depression, some fluff

enjoy!!!

May, 2014. Virginia MN

Azzis days felt like she was wading through an invisible fog, where each step felt heavier than the last. She moved through school in a daze, surrounded by classmates and noise but feeling distanced from it all, as if she were behind a glass wall. Teachers spoke, friends laughed, yet nothing seemed to reach her, and nothing seemed worth responding to.

She leaned against her bedroom wall, her gaze fixed on the ceiling, the thoughts came like waves, too heavy to escape but too constant to ignore. At home, the silence only deepened. Her puppy was her only real source of comfort, a small warmth that reminded her she wasn’t completely alone.

Yet, even with him there, the sadness was like a relentless wave, threatening to pull her under. As she lay in bed, Azzi’s mind circled around her own thoughts, dark and tangled, the weight pressing down on her chest. Sometimes, she felt the urge to cry, but the tears would stall. Other times, they would pour out uncontrollably, as if her body knew it needed to release the heaviness she carried.

Azzi remembered words that lingered in her mind like a mantra:

“Cry. Cry for an hour, cry for a day, cry for a week. Cry until you can’t cry anymore, until the tears stop coming, until you feel better, until you heal.

Crying is your body’s way of releasing sadness; let it out and then let it go.”

But the letting go part felt impossible.

She knew she was lucky—talented, even—but that didn’t stop the weight pressing down on her, making everything she did feel more like a chore than a choice.

Sometimes it felt like she was just going through the motions: school, basketball practice, homework, repeat. But there was a deeper loneliness, one that made her question what any of it even meant. Every now and then, she’d think, Would anyone even notice if I disappeared for a day? A week? That quiet thought haunted her, lingering in the back of her mind as she navigated her days, waiting for someone to prove it wrong. But no one ever did.

Grabbing her laptop, she opened up her anonymous Blogspot account. Writing had become her escape, a safe place to let her thoughts spill out without anyone knowing they were hers. She’d been posting as @unicornpuppy35 for a while now, hoping someone out there might understand her, even if they never knew her name. A new notification popped up.

Azzi blinked at the screen, surprised to see a comment on her latest post. It was from someone called @boogers_p.

“hey, I saw your post about feeling stuck. I get that. I feel like that a lot, too.”

For a moment, she almost ignored it. Just another user on the internet, right? But something about the way they’d phrased it struck a chord. She found herself typing back before she even knew what she wanted to say.

unicornpuppy35: Oh yeah? What’s got you feeling stuck?

The reply came quickly.

boogers_p: lol, how much time u got? but mostly… everything’s just movin’, and i’m still here. it’s like ur doing all this stuff, but half the time u can’t even tell if u actually care abt it.

Azzi frowned, feeling that weird sense of familiarity in the words.

unicornpuppy35: Exactly, like a constant loop. But what’s the point, right?

boogers_p: fr! it’s like… i’m goin’ thru the motions but who even knows why.

A smile tugged at her lips. Whoever this was, they got it. They actually understood what she was feeling. And it was strange, but it made her feel just a little less alone.

unicornpuppy35: So, what’s your thing? Like, if you had to pick.

boogers_p: lol basketball. but sometimes i’m like… is this all there is?

Azzi blinked. Out of all the things they could have in common, it was basketball. Funny, or maybe just ironic.

unicornpuppy35: Wait, seriously? Are we living the same life or what?

boogers_p: guess that means we’re stuck in the same boat, huh?

Azzi let herself relax into the conversation, forgetting for a moment that she was talking to a stranger. She leaned back, fingers tapping against the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: So, if we’re both stuck… what’s the plan? How do we get out?

boogers_p: girl, if i knew, we’d be out already, trust. maybe we keep chattin n figure it out.

Azzi laughed softly, a weight lifting from her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there.

unicornpuppy35: Deal. Looks like I just made a new friend.

There was a pause, then @boogers_p’s next message popped up.

boogers_p: btw, ‘unicornpuppy35’? gotta ask: what’s the story there?

Azzi rolled her eyes, smirking as she typed back.

unicornpuppy35: What? You don’t like it?

boogers_p: nah it’s cool, just funny. u like unicorns that much?

unicornpuppy35: Who doesn’t like unicorns? And I have a puppy, so it made sense at the time.

boogers_p: lol alright then, unicorn girl.

unicornpuppy35: “Boogers” is somehow less embarrassing to you?

The reply was fast.

boogers_p: hey! don’t come for my name. so do u even keep up w ball like that?

Azzi laughed, a real laugh, and typed, I mean, I love the game, especially the wcbb, but I barely keep up with men’s college basketball.

boogers_p: WHAT i can’t believe that …u at least know who Kyrie is right??

Azzi smiled, rolling her eyes as she typed, I know who he is, I just don’t watch him like that. I’m more into Breanna Stewart.

boogers_p: ohh okay stewie’s dope. but trust, kyrie’s handles r insane. hold up lemme get u the link.

Azzi barely clicked on the link before skimming, smiling at Paige’s excitement.

As Azzi sat back, scrolling through this user’s texts, a small part of her was overwhelmed by everything, like a weight on her chest she couldn’t quite shake off. It felt strange how this stranger’s blunt and funny messages could draw her out of her own head—even if just for a bit. She was used to feeling invisible, yes, her struggles buried under her quiet exterior, but this strangers presence, even from behind a screen, felt real.

A few seconds ticked by as she sank into her thoughts, that weight of loneliness and uncertainty creeping in again. She knew people saw her as the “soft one,” but beneath that, her emotions felt raw, and she wondered if anyone truly understood.

Suddenly, her phone screen lit up with rapid notifications.

boogers_p: hellooooooo? did u leave?

boogers_p: r u asleep already or smth??

Azzi’s lips turned up in a small smile. She quickly replied.

unicornpuppy35: “Geez, relax. I’m still here.”

boogers_p: “finally! thought I lost ya for a sec. kinda rude to just ghost me like that, you know?”

Azzi smirked, typing back slowly.

unicornpuppy35: “Yeah, yeah. Guess I was just thinking.”

boogers_p: “Ooooh, deep thoughts? Or like… deep-deep thoughts?”

Azzi hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, but she quickly brushed it off.

unicornpuppy35: “nope, just regular deep, I guess.”

boogers_p: “good, I thought you might’ve been drafting your escape from my endless questions.”

unicornpuppy35: “ y’know you’re kind of funny , i’ll give you that. lol”

boogers_p: “ik ik. btw, where do you go to school? And don’t tell me it’s some fancy private place or whatever.”

unicornpuppy35: “Haha, what are you, a stalker? why do you wanna know?”

boogers_p: “what? nah, just curious! alright, lemme guess… you seem like a midwest kid. Iowa?”

unicornpuppy35: “nope, not even close. Try again, Sherlock.”

boogers_p: “alright, alright… new jersey?”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head at her screen.

unicornpuppy35: “nope. You’re pretty bad at this, you know.”

boogers_p: “whatever, I’m warming up! Um… cali? bet you’re like, all into the beach.”

unicornpuppy35: “keep guessing P! maybe you’ll get it right before I graduate.”

boogers_p: “damn, you’re killin’ me here. fine, one more—Texas?”

unicornpuppy35: “Guess you’re gonna have to stay curious, stalker.”

“P” sent a string of laughing emojis, clearly frustrated but amused.

boogers_p: “oh, okay, I see how it is. mysterious and all that. fine, keep your secrets.”

Azzi smiled, finding herself genuinely entertained by Paige’s playful determination to figure her out. It was nice, having someone care enough to ask.

Azzi shook her head, laughing at the sight of P typing “helloooooo?” over and over.

unicornpuppy35: Still here! Just still laughing at your terrible guesses.

boogers_p: ohhh shut up 😆 one day you’ll tell me!

As they continued chatting, Azzi couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, like maybe she wasn’t quite so alone after all.

————-

I glanced at the clock in the corner of my screen. Midnight. Crap. How had it gotten so late?

unicornpuppy35: alright, P, it’s late. I should get some sleep—school tomorrow and all 😊

I typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send. I didn’t want the conversation to end, not when it felt so… easy.

The reply came almost instantly.

boogers_p: lame but yeah, same here. don’t oversleep, though, or I’ll roast you about it next time

I smiled softly, my fingers moving across the keyboard.

unicornpuppy35: gnn P

boogers_p: night unicorn, catch you later.

I closed my laptop, leaning back against my pillow with a soft sigh. My room was quiet except for the gentle snuffling of my puppy curled up at the end of the bed. I hated how much I didn’t want to stop talking to her—or whoever she was—but I could already hear my mom’s voice in my head if I overslept tomorrow.

Still, the flicker of warmth in my chest wouldn’t go away. For the first time in a while, I didn’t feel so alone.

————-

The warm weight of my puppy’s paws jolted me awake, followed by his enthusiastic tongue licking my cheek. I groaned, shoving him away gently before squinting at my phone.

“Crap.” 7:40. At least practice was after school today, but I still had school before then.

“Azzi!” Mom’s voice carried from the kitchen, sharp and frustrated. “Do you even know what time it is? You’re going to be late—again!”

“I know, Mom!” I called back, stumbling out of bed and tossing clothes around my room.

When I finally trudged downstairs, backpack slung over one shoulder, she was waiting, arms crossed. “Do you? Because this is becoming a habit. You need to start taking this seriously, Azzi. Coaches notice stuff like this.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing a grabbing a piece of nutella toast from the plate on the counter. “It’s not like I’m failing or anything.”

“That’s not the point!” Her voice rose a notch, and I flinched. “You’re juggling basketball, school, and everything else. If you can’t manage your mornings, how are you supposed to handle the rest?”

“I’ve got it under control.” The words came out sharper than I intended, and guilt immediately twisted in my stomach.

She softened slightly but shook her head. “You have so much potential, Azzi. I just don’t want you to waste it. That’s all.”

I sighed, hugging the puppy briefly before heading out the door. “I won’t.”

Her voice followed me, softer now. “Make sure you don’t.”

As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air hit me, making me shiver slightly. My puppy barked once from the window, his tail wagging furiously. I couldn’t help but smile, even as Mom’s words echoed in my head.

She wasn’t wrong, but sometimes it felt like the pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations, especially hers was just all so suffocating. I jogged toward the bus stop, earbuds in, my mind already racing through the day ahead: school, practice, and maybe—if I had time—another chat with P.

The bus ride wasn’t much better than waking up. Just the usual hum of the engine and kids mumbling into their phones. I leaned my head against the window, the cold glass biting at my cheek, and zoned out. School wasn’t exactly a place I looked forward to.

By the time I walked into first period, I was already tuning out the chatter around me. The teacher called for us to break into groups, and I found myself sitting with three classmates who barely glanced my way.

“We should start with the data chart,” I said, glancing at the worksheet.

“Yeah, yeah,” one of them mumbled, already scribbling something down.

Another classmate leaned over to add something, completely ignoring what I’d just said. My lips pressed into a thin line. This wasn’t new. It was like my words existed in a bubble, bouncing off everyone and disappearing into thin air. I tried again.

“If we divide the work, we’ll finish faster—”

“Wait, no, let’s do this first,” someone interrupted, their voice cutting over mine.

I stopped mid-sentence, letting my pen drop to the table. They didn’t even notice. Just kept talking like I wasn’t there.

I didn’t bother saying anything else for the rest of the class. It wasn’t worth it.

By lunch, I was drained. I slid into a chair at the edge of the cafeteria, next to a group of friends who were already knee-deep in some conversation.

“Azzi, did you see that ridiculous shot Ty took in practice yesterday?” one of them asked, barely waiting for my answer before launching into their own commentary.

I nodded, offering a small laugh. It wasn’t worth jumping in. Every time I tried to add something to a conversation, it either got talked over or shifted in another direction.

But it didn’t stop me from noticing.

As I picked at my food, my thoughts drifted back to last night’s chat with P. They actually listened. Responded. It felt… different. Maybe that’s why it was still on my mind.

————-

By the time I got to practice, my head was already in a fog. It felt like no matter where I went, no one really saw me. At school, at home—was it too much to ask for someone to actually listen?

“Azzi, let’s go! You’re up!” Coach’s voice snapped me back. I jogged to the front of the line, grabbing a ball. Simple drill. Layups. Easy.

Except I missed.

“Come on, Azzi!” one of the captains called, exasperation clear in her voice. My jaw tightened.

I grabbed the rebound and tried again, but my footwork was off. The ball clanged off the rim.

“Focus, Azzi!” Coach barked.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat, and got back in line. When my turn came again, I nailed the layup, but the damage was already done.

As we transitioned to scrimmage, it only got worse. I called for the ball—wide open on the wing—but my teammate didn’t even look my way. I sprinted to the other side of the court, yelling louder this time. Nothing.

“Azzi, move the ball!” someone shouted when I finally had possession, cutting me off before I could even make a decision.

It was like being invisible. Nothing new though.

By the time practice ended, my legs ached, and my chest felt even heavier than when I’d started. I stayed behind to shoot free throws, trying to shake off the weight.

One ball after another swished through the net, but the sinking feeling didn’t budge.

By the time I finally walked out of the gym, the sun had dipped low, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. My legs felt like lead, and I slung my bag over one shoulder, the strap digging in just enough to annoy me. God.

I spotted our car parked at the far end of the lot, Mom’s silhouette visible through the windshield. She was scrolling on her phone, waiting. I sighed, tugging my hoodie tighter as I trudged toward her.

As I got closer, I caught sight of my brothers in the backseat. Jose was watching something on his tablet, headphones on, and Jon was playing with a Rubik’s cube. Lucky them—they didn’t have to deal with “the talk” I was sure was coming.

The second I opened the door and tossed my bag onto the floor, Mom started in.

“So, your coach called me today,” she said, her tone sharp but controlled.

I froze, mid-seatbelt click. Great.

She said you’ve been distracted. Not focused. Is something going on?”

I stared out the window, watching the streetlights blur past. “I’m fine,” I mumbled.

“Azzi, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough. You’re not putting in the work, and it’s starting to show. You need to get your head in the game. You think colleges are going to be interested in someone who’s half-assing it?”

Her words stung, but I bit my tongue, glancing at Jose and Jon in the backseat. Jon was tapping away on his tablet, and Jose had his headphones in. Good. I didn’t want them listening to this.

“I’m not half-a wording it,” I said quietly.

“Oh, really? Because that’s not what I heard today. Your coach says otherwise.”

I clenched my jaw, willing myself not to argue. I couldn’t let this turn into something bigger, not with my brothers right here.

“Mom, I said I’m fine,” I repeated, more firmly this time.

She sighed, shaking her head. “Azzi, you can’t afford to slack off. You’ve worked too hard for this. Don’t throw it all away now.”

I stared straight ahead, tuning her out as best I could. My chest felt tight, but I refused to let it show. I nodded along, letting her words wash over me without sticking.

When we finally pulled into the driveway, I bolted from the car, mumbling something about needing to shower. The second my bedroom door shut, I collapsed onto my bed, burying my face in the pillow.

For a few minutes, I just lay there, letting the weight of the day press down on me. Then I grabbed my laptop and opened the chat.

unicornpuppy35: “hey, you around?”

The reply came quicker than I expected.

boogers_p: “yup what’s up?”

I hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. How much could I even say without sounding like I was whining?

unicornpuppy35: “rough day.”

boogers_p: “wanna talk about it?”

I stared at the screen. Did I?

unicornpuppy35: “not really. just needed a distraction.”

boogers_p: “fair. ok, here’s a distraction: what’s your dream ice cream flavor? like if you could invent anything.”

I blinked at the random question, a laugh escaping before I could stop it.

unicornpuppy35: “that’s… so random.”

boogers_p: “that’s the point. distraction, remember?”

boogers_p: “but… you do know you don’t have to push it down, y’know? sometimes it helps to just let it out. Especially with me.”

My chest tightened again. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to talk—I just wasn’t sure how.

unicornpuppy35: “oh um okay, it’s just been a lot. school sucks, practice was worse, and my mom’s acting like I’m throwing my whole future away. But what’s the point in saying anything? It’s not like it changes.”

I stared at the screen, half-wishing I could take it back. But, I typed again.

unicornpuppy35: “it’s like… everybody talks to me like I’m supposed to change. like they’ve already decided what’s wrong with me and what I need to do to fix it. but how am I supposed to change when I don’t even know who I am yet? it’s like no one cares about that part.”

The typing bubble appeared almost immediately.

boogers_p: “damn, unicorn. that’s real. people are so quick to act like they know what’s best for you, but they don’t live your life. you don’t owe them anything.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I stared at P’s message.

unicornpuppy35: “exactly. like… they’ve already made up their minds, and nothing I say matters. but I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be yet. And then when I try to figure it out, they’re just like, ‘No, not like that.’ it’s so exhausting.”

boogers_p: “i get it. they want you to follow their script, but maybe their script sucks. you’re allowed to write your own, even if it takes time.”

My fingers hesitated over the keyboard. I feel the tears running down my cheeks and falling onto the keypad.

unicornpuppy35: “sometimes I feel like I’m never gonna figure it out. like I’ll just keep messing up until everyone gives up on me.”

P didn’t reply right away, and for a moment, I worried I’d said too much. I’m trying my best to wipe the tears that are falling, but they just won’t stop coming.

But then their message popped up

boogers_p: “ listen to me. you’re allowed to take up space, to mess up, to figure things out in your own time. screw what everyone else thinks. you’re not a project they get to fix.”

A shaky breath left my chest, and I swiped at my eyes before more of my tears could fall onto the laptop.

unicornpuppy35: “thanks, P. I mean it. you’re the only one who really listens.”

boogers_p: “anytime you’re stuck with me now, remember?”

I didn’t mind that one bit and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.

————-

March 21, Minneapolis, Minnesota

I stared at the screen, the cursor blinking against the blank message box. Her words replayed in my mind like a song I couldn’t shake off.

“Nobody listens. Nobody sees me.”

I didn’t know what to say back, not really. Azzi didn’t just sound tired—she sounded done. And it scared me more than I wanted to admit.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard.

“Azzi…”

I typed..wanting to send but no.

I couldn’t. Not yet.

————-

taglist ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

@thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @sierrale8ne @mrsarnold @absolutelydreadful @authentic-girl03 @lupinqs @d3arapril @pboogerswbb @imaginespazzi

₊˚ෆ always lmk if u wanna be added to my taglist muah ₊˚ෆ

[ghoulification]

[SSE] Expansion and Romance for Miraak Follower Dialogue Overhaul - 1.1.1 UPDATE

This mini-update removes the mask conditional from his player home dialogue, to make it easier to trigger. I recommend keeping his mask on him until after this conversation for maximum immersion lol.

Download from my Proton Drive

Previosu Update: 1.1

implements the fixes added since version 1.71 to Miraak Follower Dialogue Overhaul by Yogibir (Mantra lip sync, new script to fix Bend Will's usage on him during the battle), as well as fixes an issue that prevented some of his new lines in "Anything on your mind" from playing, and missing audio and data for one of these lines. Now, if you're romancing him, he won't be shy anymore, and will say his new lines.

Safe to update mid-save as far as I can tell. Same information from the original post applies. This may receive future updates in the form of additional lines if I have time and patience to sort that out haha.

[shutyourfacemonsterlover]

There's an element in many BATB stories that I feel goes a little unnoticed by the general audiences, and it's something lost in the year of white feminism / pearl clutching / Buzzfeed media analysis, that categorizes these stories as "problematic" and in that...when you strip these stories down, these stories are about disabled people finding humanity. Abuse survivors attempting to gain control of life after years of trauma.

I mean it's a bit obvious, but you take out the allegory, the fantastical elements...the Beast is disabled, in a way, that their physical functions can't allow them to function in society.

Like, even Quasimodo is mute. the fantasy isn't even that dense some times lol.

Their abusers (and often the true villains) are often figures in power: parents, religious leaders, politicians...Precisely the type of people in reality that mistreat the disabled in the first place, from abusing at home to passing laws in society that invalidate and downright exterminate their existence.

Like, there's no coinicidence why a lot of these stories shaped the horror genre. and how both genres attract a lot of neurodivergent or queer fans.

So to see these stories being transformed to be thought of "ew creepy incel nice guys" fantasies is so tone deaf. Men dont fantasize being ugly, traumatized and living isolated by society, fam. they like imagining themselves being either the Luke Skywalkers or the world or the Darth Vaders, lol. Something active and with power. (And why Fr*llo in Hunchback isn't the same- he has power and represents society, but that's a talk for another day)

And if you think disabled, deformed, neurodivergent people aren't mistreated, mocked or osctracized anymore...like girl what fairytale you livin' in. i want in lol.

And why these stories hit stronger when the Beast was born a monster (or deformed as a child), instead of a relatively "normal" man committing an accident (but that's just me). Life can be cruel to you just for something you can't control, and a lifetime of pain changes you, not often for the good, but it's real. (and also why that mantra of "abuse turns you kind" can be very very dangerous talk, not all victims respond the same to trauma)

And that's also why BATB adaptations where the Beauty also is an outcast herself (Elisa, Entrapta, Dea, modern adaptations of Esmeralda), and can relate to the Beast's alienation, hit stronger in my eyes. Because compassion is often the key to these stories, and well, who understands your pain better than somebody who's gone through the same thing? (and also why "female monster"-type characters are also very fascinating to read about but also rarer to see ).

[radioactivepeasant]

Free Day Thursday:

"Responsible Adults", the sequel: Jak tries to do a regular Jak Stunt and is shocked that it doesn't go over well

(Roughly a week after this one ends. Long post warning, as most of these are lol)

Night terrors were not an uncommon experience for Jak. They may not have been his nightly companions anymore, but when he did have them, they were intense. He woke up in a corner of his room, wedged beneath the sink. There was a vague sense that he was taking cover from something, or someone.

Blessedly, he remembered no details of the nightmare. But the terror still sent his guts quivering the way they had in the prison. Huddled under the cot both for warmth and silently praying the boots wouldn't stop at his door. That he wouldn't end up Tyber's new punching bag when he got bored of the old man in the cell above Jak's.

Tyber is dead. Errol is dead. Praxis is dead. I watched them die.

Jak repeated the words like a mantra until he could move his limbs again. He crawled out from beneath the sink, but the lingering fear made his room feel claustrophobic. Smaller than it really was.

At least he hadn't woken Daxter this time.

Jak put on his boots, but didn't bother getting fully dressed. He didn't even know what time it was. Why bother if the doctor and the king guy were just going to nag him about being sleep-deprived anyway?

It must have been early morning, before dawn; the moon had vanished and people were outside doing repair work on houses and fog-catchers.

Early morning was the best time to get any outdoor work done in Spargus. A small girl led a flock of caprids out of the stables and towards one of the other districts to graze on the cactus there, and a gang of trainees only a little older than Jak were taking advantage of the temperature to do an endurance run around the city.

Personally, Jak didn't see the good of such things. You learned to be fast enough or smart enough to escape your enemies, or you didn't. He'd learned through life and death experience, not a footrace with no winners.

"Easy with the straps there!" A stocky man backed into Jak, calling up to a team of three people.

"Ope-! Scuse me there, pipsqueak." The Wastelander stepped to the side as if Jak was barely worth noticing.

"Howland, that thing ain't cinched tight enough!"

They seemed to be trying to remove a corroded beam from the supports of one of the multi dwelling houses. It was already leaning at a precarious angle, as big around as a grown man. If that beam came down the wrong way, it would take a lot of the adobe structure -- and probably a lot of people -- with it.

"It's fine, Daru!" Howland complained, "I just cinched it!"

"Well cinch it again! That sucker’s leanin'!"

Jak frowned, but let his curiosity wash away the dregs of the night terrors.

"What's wrong with it?"

The unofficial foreman tugged at a bushy red mustache and shook his head. "Don't rightly know yet. Could just be age. Sand storms and salt air will do a number on this kind of metal after a while."

Jak wondered if that had anything to do with Sandover using wood and stone almost exclusively. He was about to ask why it had been anchored to a mud wall when there was a loud metallic clang. The last bracket holding the beam snapped under the weight, and the straps weren't enough to hold it.

Jak didn't remember moving. But then he was there, with the beam on his shoulders and the foreman on the ground, having narrowly avoided being crushed to death. Cold metal dug into his hands, pressed down against his head, and Jak knew that by rights he should've been dead.

There was a thrill of revulsion in his chest when he reluctantly acknowledged that the only reason he was standing right now was that the dark eco experiments had lengthened his muscle strands to twice the size of a normal hu'men's. It wasn't just in his dark form. That element of...unnatural...was just with him. Every moment.

"Frith! Oh my- HOWLAND! GET DOWN HERE!" Daru roared, "YOU COULDA KILLED SOMEBODY!"

"I got it," Jak said through gritted teeth. "Is there a place to put this thing down?"

"Not yet," Howland admitted as he shimmied down a ladder.

"We were going to cut it into pieces once it was secure, transport it that way to be recycled."

Jak craned his neck, but the motion jarred the beam. Hastily, he adjusted his grip.

"What's- What's around me?"

"Too much," said Daru grimly. "Just- Hold on, kid."

He winced at the boy's flat stare.

"Er...no pun intended. We're gonna, gonna get you out from under there, I promise!"

"Get it cut up first," Jak grunted, "And you won't have to worry about getting me out."

"And what if your hands get sweaty, huh?" Daru demanded, "Fat chance, little man! We're going to find something to hold this up!"

The other two men hurried down from the roof with saws in hand.

Oh gods. Handsaws. This was going to take a while.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Honestly, Damas should have been expecting trouble when he didn't start his day with a free heart attack after seeing eyeshine in the kitchen. The kid was diametrically opposed to the concept of sleep, so he wouldn't have been in bed. If he was off his routine -- and by now Damas had learned to dread something interrupting the kid's self-imposed routine -- then there was probably going to be trouble later.

When he refilled the fuel in the Beacon, fed the birds, and actually had a cup of coffee uninterrupted, he was suspicious.

When the sun rose and there were no echoes of truncated curses in the halls from guards running into Jak, he started to wonder if the kid had decided to work outside. Unusual, but as long as he didn't do anything that would make Dr. Petros yell at them both, more power to him.

But when the talking ottsel showed up in the throne room about an hour after dawn, frantically demanding to know where Jak was, Damas was concerned.

Those two were attached at the hip! Jak wouldn't have gone to look for work without Daxter.

There was a small crowd forming by the time Damas stepped outside. People were shouting encouragements, or conflicting advice about pulleys and snatchblocks. Had something fallen? Damas hadn't heard any impacts. As he began to pick his way through the crowd, the shouts took on new meaning.

"He's slipping! Somebody get under there!"

"How many more hands do you want? There's ten people holding the beam up!"

"Why won't he just let go?!"

"Standing this long, maybe his arms locked up-?"

A beam? People holding a beam-?

An accident. There'd been an accident and night watch hadn't caught it.

Thoughts of crushed citizens and mangled houses circled Damas’s imagination as he pushed through the rest of the crowd, close enough to hear the rasp of handsaws and the buzz of a lone angle grinder.

"Get the cart back in!" Someone yelled, "Next piece is almost off!"

From the looks of things, a crew of four had reduced a two-story high support beam by a third.

Ten Wastelanders were beneath the colossal pole, hands and shoulders braced against the metal as it shrieked and groaned. If even one of them slipped-!

Damas threw down his staff without thinking to join them, racing to catch the end beginning to slide.

"What happened?" he demanded, straining with the others to keep it from crushing the houses and themselves.

"Tie straps broke!" a man three people down called back, "If it weren't for the kid, it woulda come down right through the roofs of a couple houses!"

Kid?

Oh gods don't tell me...

Jak was standing in the very center of the line. His arms trembled, and sweat poured down his face. He didn't seem to hear anything happening around him, too focused on keeping his grip. He was beginning to pale.

"What's he doing here?!"

"Dunno!" A woman to the left answered. "He was already there when me and the girls showed up, but that was two hours ago."

"Hours?!"

Jak had been out here for hours, trapped, and Damas had been none the wiser?

"Why hasn't anyone gotten him out yet?!"

"We tried! The poor kid froze up!"

Damas gritted his teeth and pushed away images of the kid standing alone under that crushing weight for hours until help had woken up.

"Get a truck and winch out of the pit!" He ordered, "Forget damage to the streets, we'll fix it later! I want this thing taken care of now."

It took a full twenty minutes to get the Dozer through the narrow streets of the tower district. By that time, those who had been holding the beam first had cycled out for fresh arms to allow for water and eco. All except Jak. He'd accepted some water that someone poured into his mouth earlier, but still seemed to be unable to let go. He was at the fulcrum point, he insisted, and he wasn't going to let it tip. (Not that he thought he'd actually be able to move at this point.)

Fifteen people attached pulleys and cables to the beam from above, careful not to dislodge the hands of those below. When the cables had all been hooked to the Dozer's winch, the weight began, at last, to lessen.

There was a ragged cheer from the assembled Wastelanders as the end of the beam tipped up and the rescuers eased the other end to the ground. There would be extensive damage to infrastructure to deal with. But nobody had died, and there were no major injuries, and Damas would count that as a victory. Shaking out aching arms, he hurried to the center of the line, where someone was physically holding Jak upright. Damas took hold of the boy's stiff arms carefully.

"It's gone," he said, easing the limbs down, "It's gone, let go, Jak. Come on, you're done."

The kid made a sound, a soft rasping whine that might’ve been words. Then he collapsed.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

When the world drifted back into focus, Jak didn't know where he was. The smell of eco lingered around him, confusing the other scents that could have identified his location. He couldn't move his arms. Why couldn't he move his arms?!

It took a massive effort just to pry his eyelids up. Jak’s breath caught harshly between his teeth as he forced himself onto his side.

Well, that explained the lack of mobility in his arms. He ached like he'd been fighting beyond his limits again. The injection sites would be agitated again, he knew without looking. The pain radiated from his shoulders to his fingertips, skin, muscle, and bone.

The room was a blur. Brown and yellow slowly settled into more colors, ending in something either white or pale blue in front of his nose. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he could see. Pills of thread, clinging to loosely woven fabric. The texture and shape of the warp and weft shifted as he tried to move his hand.

He hissed in pain.

"Well that's what happens when you try to make a career as a load-bearing wall."

Jak tensed. Not alone. Not with Daxter.

Biting down on the pain, he dug his fingers into the pallet beneath him and forced himself upright.

This wasn't the hospital -- small blessings -- but it wasn't his room either. There was a low wooden bedframe on a wall a few feet away, on the other side of some kind of half partition full of plants.

"Where...?"

"Well you're about to think of it as prison," Damas answered from the opposite direction.

He was sitting at a table, hunched over a cup of coffee. The empty pot beside him was a story of its own.

"By the way, you're grounded."

"What?!" Jak sputtered. He started to get up, but fell back onto the pallet with a grunt of pain.

"Like rot!"

Damas glanced back over his shoulder. "Take it up with the doctor. He put you on bedrest, not me. Better yet, blame your own self! You could've let go at any time once the rest of the district turned up to help!"

"The whole...district?"

Jak blinked.

"I don't...remember that..."

Damas sighed and peered into into his mug.

"You've been sleeping most of the day, I'm not surprised. Even with the eco you'll probably be sore for a while."

"How -- ow! -- long was I out there?"

Jak cringed at the look in Damas’s eyes when the man turned around fully.

"Four. Hours. Four hours! Why didn't you let go when others arrived?!"

Was this a trick question? It had to be a trick question.

"Be...cause...I'm not supposed to let other people get hurt?" Jak answered with slow confusion.

Damas stared in complete silence for several seconds. Then,

"You're insane. My foster-son is insane. That's insane! In what world is "throw the youngest under the pillar" a rational solution?!"

"Uh. Haven?" Jak muttered peevishly. He tried to sit up again. "Look, just. Tell me which way my room is and I'll get out of your hair."

Damas pushed his chair back with a scraping sound.

"Mn. No. What part of "bed rest" didn't you hear?"

In brusque motions, he knelt and pulled the blanket back over Jak.

"You are not to do anything even mildly strenuous, or Petros will strangle me. And since I apparently can't trust you not to willingly walk into harm's way unsupervised, you get to camp out in here, and I get to work from home for the next few days to make sure you don't go try to lift a car or something!"

Jak was appalled. "You can't do that!"

Dry as dust, Damas retorted, "First of all, I'm king. Secondly, I'm your legal guardian. Yes I can."

Jak groaned in frustration.

"Where's Daxter?"

"Not grounded."

"Oh come on!"

[oldiesstationlover11607]

hii!! 🤗

your dun!x reader fics they’re so *chefs kiss*

i’d love to see one where tyler is sleeping over and the reader is going through a breakup. and tyler hears the readers muffled sobs so he tries his best to comfort her. just some gooddd fluff 😁

Breakup - Tyler Joseph x Dun!Reader

Relationship: Tyler Joseph × Dun!Reader - Platonic

Warnings: Breakup - not with Tyler lol. FLUFF

Word Count: 1404

A/N: WELCOME BACK! Hope you like this one and please request another one! It's not super long but I think it's cute so... 🤷‍♀️

Tom and I had been together for a year and a half when he decided to end things. He asked me out on a "date," knowing full well it would end with us breaking up. Despite spending hours getting ready, hoping to impress him, I came home a wreck.

“It’s just not working anymore,” he said, standing up and leaving me alone in the café. I watched him walk out, sighed, and stared through the window as he drove away. Gripping my coffee, I gave the barista an apologetic smile before heading out. Each step toward my car felt heavier, my lip trembling. The sad playlist in my AirPods matched my mood perfectly, every song amplifying the ache inside. My mind spiraled into a numb mantra: You’re worthless.

Once in the car, I connected my phone to the radio, my fingers fumbling as I pulled up my texts with my brother.

I’m coming home. Tom and I broke up. Please don’t ask. – Me

Ok. I love you. Tyler’s staying over tonight, just so you know. I’ll tell him not to bother you. – Josh

Don’t worry about it, it’s fine. – Me

Your call. Get home safe. – Josh

As the music continued to play, I drove through the now-empty streets of Columbus, the city feeling as desolate as I did. Rain began to pour, each droplet striking the windshield like the tears streaming down my face. Tom had been my person—the one I told everything to. Now, I couldn’t stop wondering: What would he do with all that he knew about me?

The trees blurred together as I sobbed, my chest heaving with the weight of it all. When I finally pulled into the driveway, Josh was waiting on the porch.

“Hey, you,” he said, opening his arms and pulling me into a tight hug. “I know you said not to ask, so I won’t. But I’m here if you need me. Tyler and I will keep our distance. You’ve already eaten, so you can head to bed if you want.”

Josh was the best brother anyone could ask for. He’d always taken care of me, in his own protective way. I tried to smile, but it came out crooked and awkward, making me wish I hadn’t bothered.

“Hey,” he said, gently pulling back to look at me. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

I nodded, adjusted my tote bag, and slipped into the warmth of the house. My gaze stayed glued to the tan carpet as I quietly made my way to my room, shutting the door just enough to hide my tears.

For hours, I lay on my bed, listening to the muffled conversation between Josh and Tyler from the other room. Their voices rose and fell until, around 10:30, Josh finally went to bed. I hadn’t moved from where I lay, sprawled out beneath the huge gray blanket Tyler had given me when I redecorated my room. It was soft, soothing in a way that eased the throbbing in my head. I stared up at the roof of my room, the crushing weight of the breakup causing endless sobs to fall from my mouth. The ‘I love you’s we’d said meant nothing anymore and the darkest truths I’d told him were gone. This wasn’t going to be it, this couldn’t be it for me. I would find someone. Slowly my sobs grew louder as I felt certain both the boys were asleep. 

I couldn’t stop the tears. The more I tried to stifle them, the harder they came, shaking my body as I buried my face into the pillow. I didn’t hear the soft knock at the door until it opened slightly.

“Hey…” Tyler’s voice came in gentle, cautious. “Are you okay?”

I quickly wiped my face and turned away from him, mortified that he’d heard me. “I’m fine,” I managed, though it was clear I wasn’t.

The door creaked open further, and Tyler stepped into the room, his presence bringing a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed. “You don’t have to say you’re fine if you’re not. I can leave, but I just—” he paused, standing awkwardly by the door. “I just didn’t want you to be alone.”

For a moment, I considered asking him to go, letting the walls I’d built around my pain hold strong. But when I glanced over at him, his eyes were soft, full of understanding. Tyler had always been a good friend to both me and Josh, more like family than anything else. Maybe that’s why it felt okay to let him stay.

“Okay,” I whispered.

He moved closer, cautiously sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Wanna talk about it?” Tyler was the therapy friend. Despite having his own issues, Tyler always had the best advice. It was like a gift. He was able to do it in music and he was able to do it in person. I nodded, moving aside so he could climb into the bed with me. “What happened?” 

“You know my boyfriend, Tom?” I started, sniffling slightly. 

“Yeah?” His eyes searched mine. 

“He’s not my boyfriend anymore.” I rubbed my eyes, tears flowing uncontrollably down my face. Tyler said nothing. He looked around my room and let out a loud sigh. My heart was thumping within my chest and I wanted to run away. 

“Breakups suck,” he said after a long silence, looking straight ahead as if he wasn’t sure if he should even be here.

I nodded, my throat still tight with emotion. “Yeah. They do.”

Tyler exhaled slowly, running a hand through his messy hair. “I’ve been there. It feels like the world is caving in. Like… nothing makes sense anymore.” He glanced at me briefly before looking away again. “But you’re not worthless. I know it feels like that right now, but you’re not.” Hearing those words made something in me crack. I couldn’t hold back the sobs any longer. I pressed my face into my hands, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions. Without hesitation, Tyler shifted closer, hesitating for just a second before wrapping his arms around me. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t weird—it was just what I needed. A human connection, someone to remind me I wasn’t alone in this pain.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered as I cried into his shoulder. “You’re going to get through this, I promise.” I didn’t know how long I stayed like that, crying into his hoodie as he sat there, rubbing slow circles on my back. Time seemed to blur as the hurt poured out, and for the first time that night, I felt like maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t completely shattered. When my tears finally subsided, I pulled back, embarrassed by the mess I’d made.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, wiping my nose with the sleeve of my shirt.

Tyler shook his head. “Don’t apologize for feeling stuff. That’s what makes you human. Plus, I’ve cried harder over a pizza delivery that took too long, so you’re good.”

A small, unexpected laugh bubbled out of me, and Tyler grinned. “There it is,” he said, clearly pleased with himself for breaking through my sadness, even for a moment.

I shook my head, smiling despite the tears still clinging to my lashes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but that’s why you keep me around, right?” He raised an eyebrow, making me laugh again.

For the first time all night, the weight on my chest felt a little lighter, the storm inside me beginning to calm. Tyler leaned back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s going to suck for a while. There’s no sugarcoating that. But you’ve got people who care about you—Josh, me, your friends. You’re not alone in this, okay?”

I nodded, feeling a little steadier, a little more grounded. “Thanks, Tyler.”

“Anytime,” he said, giving me a soft smile. “Now, do you want me to stay, or should I head out? No pressure, either way.”

I hesitated for a second, then scooted over slightly. “You can stay. If you want.”

Tyler smiled again and grabbed the spare pillow from the other side of my bed. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

And for the first time since that awful café breakup, I felt a glimmer of hope that things would eventually be okay. Not tonight, not tomorrow, but someday. And until then, I wasn’t alone.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[hismercytomyjustice]

My husband effortlessly outmaneuvered my OCD today. I am still in awe.

I didn’t want to go to my piano lesson. Last week was ROUGH. On top of still struggling with this more advanced piece, I had major migraine brain fog.

The good news is that I didn’t want to fake my own death or wind up in near tears after. Yay, progress! But it wasn’t the best experience otherwise. It was just really frustrating and humiliating to struggle so much.

This more advanced piece has been triggering my OCD like crazy too.

I told him I didn’t want to go today because I hadn’t practiced enough.

He responded with “So?”

It was exactly the right answer. Even though I still tried to push back with, “I haven’t made enough progress.”

And he was just like “The point of you going is to practice. And you did practice.”

“I haven’t practiced enough.”

“Not going isn’t going to help with that.”

T^T !!!

(extended OCD rant below the cut)

I had similar convos with my therapist where she’s insisted that the only thing I need to do for piano is show up for my lessons. That is the only expectation.

My piano teacher would disagree with that, lol. But I get what she’s saying. Because my desire for “doing it right/enough” is my perfectionism OCD talking.

Which is why piano is such good unintentional ERP for me. Because it upsets my perfectionism OCD so much. My therapist has said this multiple times now.

Lol, I also finally told my piano teacher I have OCD and that my OCD loves piano. In that it loves to tell me how bad I am at it. He was telling me last week, “Just play through, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Which has become his new mantra for me lately. orz I was playing some for my husband too to show him how far I’ve come and he said the same thing because I kept stopping when I’d mess up. “Just play it through.”

It is SO HARD TO though. Especially with how hard my OCD focuses on every single mistake I make. Which just leads to building anxiety and more mistakes.

I’ve had moments where I’m struggling while practicing and have literally had to tell myself “practicing will only help, it can’t make you worse at this.”

Because lord knows avoidance is one of my favorite compulsions. Because you can’t be bad at something if you don’t do it, amirite? (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

God, I also realized my OCD has eased up a bit when it comes to writing (sort of), but now it’s decided to focus on replying to comments on my fics instead. Something I genuinely enjoy doing because getting comments fills my heart with rainbows. It gets riled up with me trying to leave comments too.

My perfectionism OCD has decided this is a great time to overthink every single word I type. Just a constant stream of “You have to give the perfect reply to a comment, otherwise people won’t think you’re grateful enough for them taking the time to comment and they won’t want to read your fic anymore and they’ll hate you.”

And “You’ve left comments on other fics that people have said made their day. If you don’t leave a good enough comment or if you don’t comment at all, they’ll think you don’t like their fic anymore. You know how happy getting comments makes you. If you don’t comment on everything you read, that makes you a bad person.”

None of that is true, ofc. I know it’s not true. I know it’s not even logical. But it is all triggering my avoidance SO HARD. Because I can’t mess it up if I don’t do it at all! So now I have a bunch of comments that have piled up and a bunch of fics I’ve read that I haven’t commented on and I’m starting to ruminate on all of it.

And it’s just like…so objectively ridiculous. That’s not self-compassion, I know. But like, it feels so absurd to be in an OCD spiral over this. Where I am actively spending more time agonizing (ruminating) over the fact that I haven’t done either than it would take to just…reply or leave a comment on a fic.

Like. This is not a life or death situation. This doesn’t even have to be a situation! And yet the spiral continues. I stress, I avoid, I stress about avoiding. And I waste time and energy and brainpower on all of it.

I have the same issue with the other fics I’ve promised too. I’ve been deep into the final chapters of my kid!Alastor fic and hyper focusing on it as a result. But I have been talking about posting Part 8 of my Radioapple series for so long. I threw 8k words at it like a month ago and then started overthinking it and then started worrying about falling behind on my kid!fic. The same for the BG3 oneshot I drafted. All I need to do is edit it so I can post it. But editing to me = executive function (writing somehow does not…?). And, again, I wanted to get caught up on my kid!fic. So now I feel guilty for not finishing it and posting when I said I would.

None of this is anything I should feel guilty for! And I know that. I am doing all of this FOR FUN.

It is supposed to be fun!

AND YET.

Ugh. Not me over here like “My OCD hasn’t been that bad! Why can’t I get anything done?”

Because it picked new things to obsess over and I was late to the party on realizing that. ( ˶ •̀ ⤙ •́ ˶ )

I’m glad I’m meeting with my psychiatrist tomorrow. My depression has been better but now that I’m aware my OCD is ~clinically severe~, I’m hoping maybe she can help get me on something that will do more to help with it. Because while the meds I’m currently on are preventing me from a full blown relapse, I don’t think they’ve been very effective at straight up treating my OCD otherwise.

I’m really hoping a different medication will help. It’s just frustrating to be putting all this work into therapy and all, but not seeing more of a reduction in my symptoms.

Literally one of the questions on the YBOC is: “How anxious would you feel if you were prevented from performing your compulsive behaviors?”

I told her it wouldn’t make me anxious because I don’t WANT to do the compulsions. And if I had a magic button in my head that would make them easier to resist, it would be the greatest thing ever. The compulsions are what’s making me anxious. Most of the time I don’t realize I’m obsessing or compulsing.

So then I get frustrated and upset at myself for not getting things done and it’s only then that I’m like, “Wait, is this an OCD spiral?”

If I could get better at recognizing them sooner and acting sooner, I think it’d go a long way toward helping me. The thing is, I don’t know if this is a medication thing or a me thing and tbh I’m worried it’s a me thing. That I’m not doing something right, and that’s why I’m having such a hard time with it all.

I really hope that’s not the case. Like, I am DESPERATE to get out of these never-ending loops. I just really, really hope that the will is already there and that a different medication can help get my OCD under control enough for me to actually make progress.

T^T Guess I’ll find out tomorrow. Lol, not me stressing now that my psychiatrist is just gonna be like “Your problem is that you aren’t trying hard enough!” Because I think my problem is trying so hard to the point I unintentionally actively sabotage myself… Like I’m trying to fight perfectionism OCD with gasoline instead of water or something.

Ugh. Fingers crossed she can give me some better insight into all this tomorrow.

I’m just curious now too if my OCD has always been this bad and I’m only just now realizing it, or if it’s just been worse in general over the past year or so for whatever reason.

FIX ME, SCIENCE! FIX ME!!!

[teopatra]

💙 Happy Blue Moon🌕 💙

💙🌕💙🌕💙💙💙🌕🌕🌕🌕💙💙💙🌕💙🌕💙

Posts like these you don’t sea 👁️ often .. maybe once every blue moon 🧿👄🧿

🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️🪩♓️

Todays pick a pile messages are songs since Pisces energy and full moons are likened to mermaids whom are know for being sirens 🚨 🧜🏽‍♀️ 🧜‍♂️

Message 1:

During the full moon transit you’ll feel like there is a stillness in their air. Kind of like when the ocean gets eerily calm before a storm. A peaceful terror. You could feel the urge to be by yourself more or hermit in your own energy; it will befit you to turn off your devices and just listen to the sounds around you and your mind. The best thing you can utilize your phone for right now is noting your synchronicities and your feelings. If you notice people being distant don’t take it personally, but pay attention to how that makes you feel and the conversations people have with you especially your tone. Others you know are facing introspection and are delving into the deepest parts of their psyche. The intensity of repressed emotions may be too much for most to handle. I noticed my social media page engagements are lower than normal today, it reminds me of a ghost town with nothing but tumble weeds lol that’s the energy of this Pisces full moon. Work with quartz crystals, protect your immune system and indulge in a warm bath, shower, or foot soak since Pisces rules the feet.

Message 2:

At this time you will experience MORE lucid dreams. Pay attention to the people in your dreams and what these particular people may say to you in your dreams. It’s one thing to be lucid in the dream state but it’s another to wake up with dream amnesia. Why is that? Bc something in your waking life is not aligned with your higher self meaning you could indulging in bad habits like not getting enough rest and over saturating your third eye with too much media. You’re prob a creative person or a water sign so you should be clearing your mind. Create something that is visually stimulating for you to aid in your create process and ease/unload the mind; mercury rx is cashing a lot of mental tension rn. A salt bath, a foot soak with pink Himalayan salt or you may need to gargle with salt water to unblock throat chakra blockages. Try sleeping next to grounding crystals and dream enhancing crystals like blue apatite. Also don’t sleep directly next to your phone, turn TV’s, mirrors, phones, tablets, and other types of black mirrors away from your bed if you can. If not try covering them with a towel or something light. Work on protecting your aura and strengthening your auric field

Message 3:

Worrying about an ex at this time is unhealthy for you. As much as you may think this person will change it’s not up to you to focus on them, pour into yourself wholeheartedly and you’ll see where your shadow work needs to be done and why you feel the need to give to someone who probably doesn’t have your best interest at this time. I see a lot of people from your past being nostalgic over you, but that is none of your concern anymore. Turn from the past and be open to all possibilities ( this is the mantra for piscerian energy). Your destiny is waiting for you, but you are holding on to your karmic energy. The moon has met up with Saturn as he’s been transiting Pisces since the beginning of the year, so challenge yourself to let go of the things that aren’t serving you and you know what they are. Also everyone seems to be on edge so it’s best to just be quiet stay out the way and mind your business until mercury retrograde blows over. If you’ve been overindulging in tarot stop, OR you may notice that tarot isn’t resonating with you lately like it used to. Try intuitive games to improve your own cartomancy or tarot skills if you’re into that

Message 4:

I see you have done a lot of shadow work over the years and it has caused you to feel a bit isolated at times and that’s because others have not done ENOUGH self development therefore you are not resonating with most people. You are supposed to soar and it may feel lonely at the top but know that you are an example of Christ consciousness to those around you. you are a beacon of light that illuminates a path behind you. You are not a flash light searching for dark spots. Reward yourself for how far you’ve come and don’t stop because this is how you will romanize your life turning fantasies into reality. The full moon wants you to relax and to plan ahead so you can have a more fulfilled day. Pisces is a mutable sign meaning ever changing , therefore this energy can be a bit sporadic. Which isn’t always bad, BUT I see time can easily evade you if your daily intentions aren’t set properly. You’ll see what I mean if you haven’t already. I see you thinking back on this post weeks later like ohhhh now I get it. 🤭 also eat some more vegetables, try making more home cooked meals bc it’ll be therapeutic .

Message 5:

Please be mindful that with most people in their late 20’s experiencing their Saturn returns with the moon currently in the same sign as Saturn may force you to observe people change for the better or for worse. It all depends on one’s karma and the work they’ve chosen to do or lack thereof. With the sun being n Virgo and Virgo being the sign of the hermit, the change of season will cause you and others to recluse and maybe even become lethargic. For example during this time of year most people go back to school, and as the older generation phases out and retires, the old “students” are the new teachers. I see a lot of millennials changing the dynamics of school systems compared to how we experienced it growing up. You are the future, help your inner child and inner teenager even if you’re an adult by connecting with those younger than you. If YOU are a teenager pay attention to those in their mid to late twenties. A lot of times we think our lives are going to go certain ways and end up something completely diff. Just know that if you’re aspiring to do something that may not need a traditional education don’t waste your money going to school for something you don’t even really wanna do or you’re doing it for just the money or to satisfy family. Find the moon tonight and do some moon gazing , stare at her and let your mind wonder off; your higher self will handle the rest.

Message 6:

People want to know what you’re up to 👀 I see you have a magnetic energy like the moon. People stare at you like they do the moon, for some reason I see you’re a walking personification of a mirrored portal. You are a conduit of the higher dimensions, you see a person but they see you as a hypnotic metronome. Just like the effect the full moon has on mythological creatures like mermaids and werewolves, I’m seeing you know you had some time of power of psychic gift but you’ll begin to resonate with being other worldly as your gifts play out in front of you. Pisces energy is about illusions and for some reason you create an optical illusion that doesn’t play tricks on peoples eyes but their minds 😵‍💫 THIS message will only resonate with a small few but please comment if you experience any weird nuisances. With great power comes great responsibilities, be careful not to put people in trances at the wrong time, don’t stare at people back if they stare at you but if it’s a lover stare and you’ll both take an astral trip. Please move in silence at this time and work on grounding. Going into hermit mode will benefit you and please don’t get distracted by lust bc I see that being the side effect of this heightened power rn like a hungry vampire. Also stop trying to be captain sage a h*e and realize how earthly you’ve been, lighten your aura in weight.

🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌝🌖🌗🌘🌜

🩻This is your time to illuminate the truth deep within you bc you already hold the answers you seek.. there’s no research to be done at this time because you have spent the time and effort. Now you are reaping the rewards

[amhrosina]

The Red Room - Pt. 1 (Matt Murdock x Reader)

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

Summary: While on surveillance one night, you get interrupted by a strange man wearing a Devil costume. When he offers to help you escape the Red Room, the offer is too good to pass up.

(Warnings: guns, physical fighting, cursing, references to psychological torture, eventual smut lol, references to reader's life as a Black Widow, reader threatens Matt, reader doesn't know Matt is Daredevil, this is somewhat of a divergence from the canon story, watch me make shit up about the Red Room)

Part 2 Part 3 - Coming Soon

You perched on the edge of the rooftop, gargoyle-like in your hunched posture as you watched your target skitter across the alley below you. The infamous grey patches in his hair stood out in the blanketed darkness, and the drunk stagger of messy footsteps echoed around you. He was older than he looked in his picture, but it was definitely him.

“Target acquired.” You whispered into your telecom, reaching for the pistol strapped to your hip.

“Do not engage, Widow. Tail him and wait for further instructions.”

You halted, furrowing your brow.

“Sorry, you’re saying to not shoot him?”

“Affirmative.”

You shrugged, still confused but unwilling to express your curiosity. If you came across as too interested, they’d subject you to another round of “training”, and the last thing you wanted was a doctor to brainwash your personal thoughts away. It’d taken you long enough to snap out of their original training, and you weren’t too eager to go through that again.

“Copy that.”

You jumped down from the ledge onto the gravel rooftop and wiped your palms on your thighs. It didn’t matter to you whether your target was dead, but it was strange that they sent such an experienced Widow on a surveillance mission. The guy was so intoxicated that he could barely walk upright, which meant that for the time being, your new home would be the roof. You muted your telecom and began pacing, working through a familiar plan in your head.

The Red Room was the only place you’d ever been able to call home. It was the place where your earliest memories were coagulated. While other kids dreamt of rainbows and birthday parties, you spent your days in combat training, learning tactical skills, and when you got old enough, sparring girls in matches that would end in either victory or death. You had been lucky enough to come out the victor of these matches, but there was always a cost, and it was always at the expense of another Widow.

It didn’t hurt, couldn’t hurt anymore, but you repeated their names like a mantra as you paced. The ability to express emotions had been brainwashed out of you before you could talk in complete sentences, but it had been years since you’d seen the doctor, and unbeknownst to Dreykov, you’d been independently thinking for over a year now.

Your goal, the reason you were always so eager to leave the Red Room and enter the field, was to find your birth parents. You had almost nothing to go on, other than the story that they’d been feeding you since you could remember. According to Dreykov, your mom was nothing more than a junkie that left you on the steps of a firehouse as an infant, but you’d been having dreams for months about a woman that looked just like you, and you were determined to find her.

“Do you always talk to yourself when you’re spending time on sketchy rooftops?”

You swung around, heart pounding in your chest as you readied yourself for an attack. You’d been so caught up in your planning that you hadn’t been focused on the noise around you, and for the first time since you’d become a Widow, someone had successfully snuck up on you.

Opposite you stood a tall, costumed man, covered from head to toe in red. Horns adorned the top of his masked head, and the smirk resting on his face was the only section of skin that you could make out in the darkness.

“Do you always sneak up on women in the dark?” You barked back, aiming your gun at his head.

“Only when they’re wearing more lead than clothing.”

You cocked your head, eyeing him with distaste. “You can’t possibly know that.”

“I’m right, though, aren’t I?”

You scoffed at his arrogance, but you couldn’t deny that he was right. You were wearing a lot of weapons. Every Widow did when they were on assignment.

“What do you want?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Who do you work for?” He returned.

It quickly devolved into a game of cat and mouse, and you weren’t planning on losing.

“Why do you care?”

“Is it Fisk?”

“Is it?”

“You work for Fisk?”

“What’s it to you?”

He swallowed, and you knew you had him, though you weren’t expecting him to lunge at you so quickly. You side stepped, narrowly avoiding the punch aimed at your face. You brought the butt of your gun down, aiming for the vulnerable skin of your attacker’s face. He was almost as fast as you were, catching your hand when it was millimeters away from striking his jaw and using your own momentum against you to knock the gun loose from your hold.

You didn’t give him a chance to catch his breath. Within seconds, you’d swung your leg out, catching the tip of his foot and causing him to stumble towards you. You brought your fist up, colliding knuckle with jaw in an uppercut that would knock any normal person out cold for hours. Apparently, this guy wasn’t normal, because the only outward sign that the punch had affected him was the slight shake of his head as he steadied himself.

It didn’t matter. You already had another gun in your hand, and this time, you’d shoot first and ask questions later.

“Wait.” His voice echoed around the rooftop, and for the second time that night, you hesitated. He held his hands out in front of him, a silent plea not to shoot. “You’re one of them, right? One of the Widows?”

You blinked. There was no possible way this random, costumed idiot knew anything about the Red Room. How could he? It was one of the most guarded secrets in modern history. But clearly, he knew something, and that meant he had to die. You rolled your shoulders, willing the hesitancy to leave you so you could bury this distraction and get back to your business.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You cocked the gun, finger itching to pull the trigger. He panted, breath billowing out around him in the cold air. Why couldn’t you just pull the damn trigger?

“You were taken when you were a girl, and you trained in the Red Room, right?”

You froze, chest growing tighter with every breath you took. “You are barking up the wrong tree, dude.”

“I like this tree, I think.” A small grin crossed his face, but turned grave again quickly. “I have a – I mean, my friend is a lawyer.”

“So?” You sent him an incredulous look. This guy was all over the place.

“So, he’s helped an ex-Widow get out before. He could help you too if you want.”

Your breath hitched. Black Widows didn’t get to just leave the Red Room. You were in it until death, and there were no loopholes. You’d checked.

“That’s impossible.”

Your mind whirred with possibilities. He could be lying, but what if he wasn’t? What if he was telling the truth, and you could really escape? Was this all an elaborate plan to throw you off your game before he killed you? He did attack you first, but only after you feigned employment with the man he called ‘Fisk’.

Your ear piece crackled, and you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that you’d muted yourself earlier.

“Status report, Widow.”

You eyed the man in front of you. He shifted his stance, leaning ever so slightly toward you, almost like he was listening to your conversation. But that would be impossible, right?

“Widow. Report.”

You kept your gun aimed at the man and reached to unmute your telecom. This inconvenience could be cleared up so easily. All you had to do was mention the man in front of you to the man on the telecom, and a dozen Widows would be at your location in minutes. But what he’d said had managed to crawl under your skin. You wanted, no – needed to know more.

“Nothing major to report. The target is in the diner on 42nd. He’s heavily intoxicated but sobering up. Should I move in?”

“Negative. Hold your position. Your heartrate spiked on our monitors.”

“Oh.” You tried to feign innocence. “One of the residents of the building came to the roof to smoke. I ran so they wouldn’t see me.”

“Did you follow protocol?”

“Yes. It’s been handled.”

“Hold steady, Widow.”

You muted your comm again, narrowing in on the man you were still aiming your gun at.

“Is it normal for Widows to lie to the Red Room?” He asked, cocking his head.

“How do you know about the Red Room?”

“I told you. My friend’s a lawy-”

“No,” you interrupted, “How do you know about the Red Room.”

“My friend and I are…very close.” He shrugged.

“Your friend should learn to keep his mouth shut.” You finally lowered your gun, satisfied that he wouldn’t be attacking you again. “Any other Widow wouldn’t have hesitated to shoot you in the head. After torturing your friend’s name out of you, that is.”

“But you hesitated.” He pointed out, lowering his hands.

“I need the name of your lawyer friend. And I need to know that you won’t rat me out if I let you leave this roof alive.”

“You’re going to get out?”

“I’m going to try.” You shrugged. “The name, Devil-Man. And your word.”

“Nelson & Murdock. They’ll meet you where you’re at, and they’ll know what to do next.” He held out a business card. “And, I give you my word that I won’t tell a soul about our meeting tonight.”

You reached forward, gripping his wrist and pulling him towards you. Your faces were inches apart and the knife you always sheathed in your sleeve was pressed against his neck.

“If I find out that you said anything to anyone, other than your lawyer friend, I will gut you like a fish. Is that clear?”

He smirked. “Crystal.”

“Good.” You plucked the business card from his fingers and pushed off of him, apathetic towards his ability to stay upright. You leaped onto the ledge of the building, searching the diner for your target. Your eyes narrowed on the hulking mass of a man asleep in his omelet in one of the booths.

Yep. It’s going to be a long night.

A/N: Okay, this was originally a request for one fic but I definitely wayyyy over thought it and now it's a series. It'll probably be like 5-7 parts, will definitely be smutty, and will hopefully do Matty some justice. I already have part two written, and I'm hoping to get that edited and published before Monday. I hope you enjoyed! Also, this series has been added to the tag list request form, so if you'd like to update your preferences or fill out a form to be added to this series' tag list, click here!

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @deliciousfestsalad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08 @definitelynotsugar @casualchaoticdevil @peachy-flxwr @nashja @xleiaorgana @mukbee @soft-emo-enby @purple-amaranthe @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @alina02 @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @thedevilwearsblack @merleisapartygod @legocity2 @violet-19999 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @shoxji @layazul @dumb-fawkin-bitch @americaarse @lazyxsquirrel @honeysucklepotter @m0nster-fvcker @matthewmurdockswhore @thatgirljayy @hiyabyeyababy

[mintytealfox]

I need to know any and all hc you have on Fool's Gold aaa I just love the way you write~

b'aaawwWWWWWWW thanks 🥹🥹💞💞

-RUBS HANDS TOGETHER- Fool's Gold hcsssss lets see what ive got cookin in this brain here lol

Most of these are going to be about when he is on his own and doesn't have anyone he cares about in the picture at all, Cause I imagine he is different when he has someone, even something, that brings 'care' back into his thoughts and heart. AND all are subject to change, just my initial thoughts 👀👏👏

1 .(a potential one, still not landed on it yet but) I think he enjoys the dark and fire, sort of being the 180 of his other self. Likely enjoying the thrill it provides and especially since neither can really hurt him anymore. He still craves light and safety, but he isn't desperate for those things anymore. This potential hc of mine came about cause of this:

I put down my very first decoration and I was laughing cause it looks like Norton was like 'oh man Alice gonna love what I added' 😊-A LOUD BLAZING FIRE BLASTING IN ALICE'S APARTMENT-

2. Enjoys being spooky, enjoys being the bully. ITs like his way of saying 'this is how the world showed me it worked, I am just following the same song and dance that was shown me' and now laughing about it. I think he is having the time of his life thinking that morals are no longer a thing to hold him back 🙃I think Norton never had the opportunity to be a child, and is now taking that opportunity to finally let loose and play. Even though that means playing with other's lives -laughs nervously-

3. Singing is easy for him now. He doesn't have that black lung business anymore and is just humming away and enjoying himself. Feeling free of the weight of humanity.

4. He does feel a constant pain though 👀 and is doing what he can to be rid of it. Like phantom pains, they are there but not a thing you can do about them, really. So, he is using the distraction of hunting and hurting others to dull his own agony that feels like his body is being pulled apart and put back together over and over again.

5. When he is alone and quiet, his decent self nags at him (but this doesn't happen often 😔). Just as he nagged and fought for control before the explosion. but Norton's humanity is still in there, never completely snuffed out. FG generally has full control and doesn't give a single care about anything except avoiding pain. for now 👀

6. The fact that his obsession is still 'to change his fate' is interesting to me. The one constant in his adult life is this mantra: 'must change my fate'

7. Significantly more open with his emotions, not holding anything back. When he is mad? HE IS MAD and there is no mistaking it and vice versa. Ah 😭

[damned-desire]

Make love to me.

(Kazuha x Top Male Reader)

Reader making love to Kazuha. 1000+ words (I am insane) I love Kazuha so this is incredibly self indulgent. You have been warned. I also apologize in advance since it’s less smut and more.. emotional lol.

“To you my— oh fuck”, Kazuha whined, feeling you inside him as you touch his sensitive insides, unable to think of words— his mind was occupied by your touch. The feeling of your strong calloused hands make his mind wander into a world of elation. He was on top of you, his cute cock bouncing up and down as he tries his best to please you, soft moans left his velvety lips. A musical number you were all too familiar with as the soft squelching of his hole echoed across the room. His hands held onto your shoulders, clenching onto them for support as he tries to not collapse on your muscular figure; keeping his pace in fear of disappointing you.

“Use your words, my little dove. How will I be moved by your poem if you can’t even finish it?” You whispered into his ear, planting soft kisses on his neck, hands roaming around his petite body, there was possession in your touch, as though he was a treasure you held dearly. Your grasp alone drove him insane, legs shaking from the stimulation of your conquer, he loved that about you. The feeling of being monopolized made him breathless. “I’m sorry (M/N) I can’t.. I can’t” he replied, unable to think of anymore words as his mind was occupied with you. Your words, your body, the way you held him—all of it was enticing and addictive. You had him by the throat, and the only words that came out of his mouth were cries for forgiveness and pleasure. The poet was silent, utterly absorbed in the warmth of your crowded bodies, the friction of movement driving him insane.

You looked at him in adoration, eyes scanning his helpless figure. A mischievous smile was planted on your lips as you wrapped your hand around his sensitive cock, hands gripping on his waist, guiding him down your length. He shakes, unable to handle the force that you placed on his body. That was enough for Kazuha to start losing his mind, babbling your name like a mantra. “Please, please, please, please— (M/n) I can’t anymore.. please..” he looked at you, almost as if he was waiting for you to take the lead. The poem he wrote for you completely left his mind, the words of love he wished to profess were now lost to lust. Drunk in love with the feeling of unrivaled sensual gratification— in other words, he was far too indulged with the feeling of sex. His slutty nature was now up for show; only to you and only for you and you absolutely loved it. Although it was a shame that you couldn’t hear his words of devotion towards you, this was just as favorable.

“Tell me your desires, Zuha.” Your words sent a shiver down his spine; he grinds on you, yearning for more but too nervous to say anything, he tried to show you exactly what he wanted with his body. He moved sensually, looking like something straight out of a pornographic film. Kazuha seduced you with his passionate eyes and his marked body, the marks left by your wicked lips glistened in the moonlight. You were aware of his wants, his desire to feel you deeper inside him, to completely take over his body. He was a slave to your might— the power you hold over him was something indescribable, one word from your lips could already drive him to an orgasmic state. “Make love to me, (M/N).” He begged with his beautiful ruby eyes, burying his head on the nape of your neck, sultry breath making you shudder, the unexpected request caused you to be a little shy. “How could I deny such a request from my little dove?” You replied breathlessly, carrying the smaller man in your arms and leading him to your shared bed, placing him down on the soft mattress; cock still deep inside of him.

He quickly pulls you into a desperate kiss, it was messy, the taste of your saliva fused with his; creating a flavor of longing and complete worship. It was an aroma that you could only get from his peach colored lips. Your tongue skillfully mended with his as you move your hips to the rhythm of his quiet moans, reaching the deepest parts of his appetite, the shape of your member creating a curve on his stomach, kissing his lust with your cock.

It was slow and intimate, it felt all too wonderful. He wrapped his arms around you, hands roaming your back, feeling your muscles pulse with pressure. He pulls away from your lips as soft rivers of tears follow down his ivory cheeks; he looks at you for reassurance, wanting you to feel as euphoric as he does, the validation of your pleasure, he craves it. He wants only the best for you. He wants his body to satisfy you completely; get you addicted to him just as he is with you. You wipe away his tears, kissing his lips once more before whispering words of praise to him— removing his apprehensive thoughts about his body. When he’s with you, every movement, every word, and every emotion he feels is unconditional. His vulnerability, something he has a struggle with accepting, was something that you embraced wholeheartedly; with the way you’re touching him, the words you tell him, and the amount of times you reassure him, it made him feel so surreal.

He gasped, feeling himself get closer to his high as he tightens around you. “I’m close— (M/N) I’m close!”

“It’s alright, you can come. It’s okay.” You groaned, feeling yourself get closer to your orgasm as well. “Let’s do it together.” He nods, replying only with a desperate whine.

You gave him one final thrust before completely letting yourself go inside of him, he wailed as he feels you fill him up and pull yourself out of his pulsating hole. His own juices covered his body as he feels yours slowly leak out of his insides. His chest moves up and down, body collecting itself after such an intense orgasm.

“Let’s get you cleaned up I’m sure you—“ He cuts you off with a kiss, pulling you beside him. He wraps his arms around your torso, burying himself in your warmth yet again. He hums, rubbing his face on your chest before resting his head on your limp arm. “Later..” he replied, slowly dozing off in your arms. You let out a soft chuckle, caressing his head with a kind of gentleness that a mother would give to her child. “Later”, you repeat, staring at his ethereal face, the moonlight serving him justice as it highlights every single beautiful part of his being.

[swageyama-tobiyolo12]

Hold On (pt. 2)

cw: just super angsty, this is mostly just a long argument about kageyama.

a/n: sorry about the lowkey cliffhanger moment, i felt like being dramatic lol. part three will be out tomorrow! thanks for reading :) 

link to part one

As you walk, the rain hides the tears that spill down your cheeks.

Oikawa sat back down and let out a frustrated sigh. He was frustrated at himself, for letting you walk out like that. He was confused, frustrated, and worried. He gripped his hair in frustration and cursed himself. He stayed sitting there, in a flurry of thoughts.

When you arrive, you sit on the grass, leaning against a tree, wishing Kageyama was sitting beside you like he used to. You didn’t always talk, but you didn’t always need to either.

Oikawa continued to sit in the café. He was trying to decide what he should do. He was debating whether he should follow you to make sure you're okay or give you some time alone. After a few more minutes, he couldn't take it anymore. His worry for you overcame his rational thoughts. He got up with a sigh. He pulled up the hood of his jacket and headed out into the rain towards the park. He was hoping he would be able to find you.

“How the hell am I supposed to find her in all of this?” He muttered to himself as he walked faster through the rain.

As memories of your best friend flow through your mind, you stop trying to hold back the tears that have been threatening to spill down your cheeks.

“Please be here. Please don't be anywhere else. Please be safe,” Oikawa muttered the words like a mantra as he walked deeper into the park. He was looking around frantically, searching for you.

He continued walking till he spotted you sitting against a tree. He felt a wave of relief wash over him. He walked towards you, his footsteps quick and light. As he neared you, he could see that you were crying.

“Oh it's you,” you murmur as you look up.

He was glad he found you, but your reaction to seeing him was a jab to his heart. He continued to walk closer to you, his footsteps making sloshing sounds in the damp grass.

“..Yeah. It's me.”

“Did you need something?”

Oikawa reached you and slowly sat down beside you, keeping a bit of a distance. He stared at you, raindrops dripping from his hair and eyelashes.

“I..uh, I just..”

He didn't know what to say. 

“Why are you here?” You continue to look at the ground, refusing to meet his gaze.

He let out a frustrated sigh before continuing to speak, his voice laced with irritation.

“Because I was worried about you, idiot. You just walked off without a word, and I didn't know if you were actually planning to run or not. So I followed you here.”

“I told you what I was doing.” Your jaw clenches.

He let out another sigh. His irritation was increasing with each passing second. He wanted to know more about your relationship with Kageyama. He wanted to know why you were so attached to him, he didn’t understand it.

“Yeah, I know that you said you were going here but you didn't... You didn't say why you were going here.”

“I just miss my fucking best friend okay? Is it really that big a deal?”

That triggered something within Oikawa. He gritted his teeth before speaking again.

“Kageyama? That's what this is all about? You're crying and running off to a secluded place like this because you miss Kageyama? Seriously?”

“God, just because you hate him doesn't mean you get to hate our friendship, it means something to me.”

He let out a sharp scoff. His irritation was turning to anger. He clenched his fists, trying to keep his emotions in check. But he couldn't hold back the next words that came out in a biting tone.

“Hate him? I don't hate him. I just can't believe you're crying over him, of all people. You and Kageyama hung out here and it means so much to you? He's cold and rude. Why is he so important?”

Your breath catches in your throat as he speaks.

“I don't understand it. Why are you even crying like this over him? It's stupid. He's just some guy you used to hang out with. Why does he matter so much to you? And why are you going to some spot in the park to cry over him like some lovesick fool? Don't tell me you have feelings for him,” he sneers.

Your tears had practically dried at that point, but came pouring out once more as he continued, as you placed a shaky hand over your mouth in shock.

He didn't expect his words to have that much of an effect on you. He instantly regretted what he said as he watched you cry even more. Seeing tears stream down your face sent a pang of guilt through him.

“Shit,” he sighs, “I didn't mean that.. I didn't mean-”

He looked worried and ashamed of what he said as he started to reach out towards you, intending to comfort you in some way.

You flinch away from him. 

“I can't believe I have to marry you,” you snap.

His heart sank more as he watched you flinch away from him. Your words sending a pang of hurt and guilt through him. His hand stayed frozen in mid-air, not reaching you. 

“Y-you can't believe…”

He took a shaky breath. He knew he messed up. He didn't even know why he said all those words. Now he was hurting you.

“I am not,” you take a shaky breath, standing up, “a lovesick idiot. Kageyama is not cold or rude. You have no idea what you're talking about and there is no way for you to even begin to fathom what he did for me,” you clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms.

He quickly stood up too. He wanted to apologize, to make things right, but he didn't know how to say the words. So he ended up blurting out something else.

“And you're saying that I don't understand? That I can’t even fathom it? I've known him for years. I've seen how he is. He's a rude, egotistical jerk!”

“He's the reason I'm alive,” you spit back, pushing him.

[loveanddeepspice]

show me love

This was supposed to be a lot longer, but when I realized I couldn't get the quality how I wanted it, I shortened it because my ADHD brain couldn't handle it. I just got back into editing videos, so -

big explanation about the songs and my feelings about the game below the cut. (I arguably spent more time writing it out then making this video lol).

Sri Argala Stotram  is a devotional prayer, also considered a mantra to the Goddess Durga. Durga is a goddess said to bring peace, calm, and order to chaos (in case anyone was wondering). The section of this version of the mantra is by Krishna Dass. A beautiful live version can be found here.

But I won't go into detail about the mantra, since I am not well-versed in its history, meaning, and application. That being said, the above came to mind after listening to it over and over and over and over and loving the part of the song that is portrayed..

I find it interesting how a lot of mainstream media can link me back to the teachings of Ram Dass (I am one of those people, sorry), especially about how relationships can be the mirror to our own minds and our own hearts. When we see chaos and pain in our lives, that is an indicator that our inner space needs attention.

There is so much detail in the lore of Love and Deepspace and how love is the force and energy that powers it, and how love transcends all, and how there are a million and one different types and shades and intensities of love and that there are some that are more important than others, and some are fleeting, and some last a lifetime, and some can span generations and even lifetimes. And the most powerful and most important form of love is the kind that transcends the physical, the material, and the mundane. I guess you could even say the most important kind of love is that which takes place in the present.

"The most important aspect of love is not in giving or the receiving: it's in the being. "

"Unconditional love really exists in each of us... It's not 'I love you' for this or that reason, not 'I love you if you love me' - it's love for no reason, love without an object"

This game taught me a lot about love. In some aspects it's your typical "I'll love you forever I've been looking for you forever" story/trope/whatever. But in other aspects it is just as complex and layered and deep and wonderful as a real relationship can be. It's also about going through hell, grief, and the pain of loss.

Love is a tricky thing, and I think it is so easy to get it wrong, and to make it wrong. I've certainly made it wrong before. And I think the thing about Love is that it is something that should be cultivated and tended, not just taken for granted or assumed, and we have to always be aware of that.

I like the way Love and Deepspace portrays the nature of love. How it's not always "just the way we expected it to be", and that sometimes the most important thing is not about how to make the other person happy, but that you do whatever it takes to keep the love alive. It's also about accepting when love changes and evolves and maybe doesn't fit the way it used to anymore. But most importantly, it's about how the heart of love is compassion, forgiveness, and selflessness.

"When you are in a state of love, you are not thinking about yourself, you are simply being love."