#this might just happen every so often sos

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

what do you think the third years would be like 10 years from now?

What comes after Ever After?

You’re looking at the new buff baker that helps man the Clover Patisserie. He’s beloved by the local housewives and school girls— His parents are getting up there in age, so Trey has taken up a bulk of the responsibilities: ordering supplies, prepping ingredients, baking, stocking, and customer service.

After hours, Trey experiments with new recipes and leftover ingredients. Sometimes he comes up with some truly awful inventions, but other times they end up working out really well. Who knew that adding oyster sauce would enhance the flavor of this bread? He calls these the “Clover Specials, Piping Hot and Fresh Off the Trey” (yes, that was a pun).

He tries to make the bakery more whimsical for the customers. Little seasonal decorations, cute little doodles on the placards that indicate what each item is, a sign that reminds folks to brush well after eating sweets, etc. (Trey claims he doesn't really care for little flourishes like this; it might just be the nostalgia of the unbirthday party days getting to him.)

If there are things that haven’t sold at the end of the day, he’ll offer them for a discount in a blind box style. You’ll never know what you’ll pull, but it’s always delicious, if not a little stale or slightly lumpy looking. Waste not, what not!

Every so often, he has nights out with his childhood friends Chenya and Riddle. Trey's responsible for bringing the snacks (he uses his friends as a test audience for his experiments), and the three spend that time drinking, sharing stories, and catching up on each others' lives.

Cater’s a social media manager and agent for various influencers. His career allows him to basically work from anywhere (which is convenient because he travels to various promotional events) and to be on his phone 24/7, monitoring stats, attending strategy meetings, and coordinating with PR teams.

Keeps up with the latest trends! He's not one of those "how do you do, fellow kids?" types though. Cater is genuinely on top of what's cool--so much so that he's sometimes contacted as a style consultant. It feels like he's got his hands in many facets of the entertainment industry.

He regularly sees a therapist (although he doesn't let any of his friends or family know) to talk through his insecurities and other darker thoughts. It's really been helping him sort out these complex emotions he's been sitting and stewing in for the longest time. He's hoping that, someday, he can reach the point where he can open up to everyone about this other side of himself.

Every now and again, the thought to text an old NRC classmate strikes him--but something keeps Cater back. Doubt, apprehension. The worst that can happen is being left on read, but to Cater the consequences feel so much worse than that. It's a huge relief to him when he gets a text out of the blue from Trey one day--an excuse to text back, to make that connection. Though it's still difficult for Cater to gather the courage to initiate another conversation, this is still a foot in the door for him, the potential start of something new.

Cater still has the Magicam accounts of his school mates. He'll sort of like... cyberstalk their pages just to keep up with their lives, to feel a sense of closeness with the people he failed to reach out to during his NRC days. When he stops to reflect on it, he really regrets his inaction--and, on some nights, he scrolls and scrolls until the dread and the loneliness lulls him into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

It took a lot of resistance and arguing, but--much to the delight of Kifaji and his family members--Leona has (begrudgingly) taken on the role of a royal advisor to support Sunset Savanna. There were of course some growing pains, especially with Leona's callous and arrogant attitude clashing with those of the other (older, much more conservative) advisors--but for the most part, it's been a net positive.

His focus is on improving infrastructure while also conserving as much of the environment as they can. The knowledge and experience he has gained from his 4th year internship comes in handy here, and thankfully they've been able to take small but steady steps to modernize the country.

In addition to improving infrastructure, Leona has made efforts to strengthen the Sunset Savanna's soft power. He has established new schools and food banks, particularly in impoverished areas, and started magift/spelldrive teams. This has made him popular with certain groups, such as the hyena beastmen and children.

Leona loathes putting on airs, but it's a necessity when facing the public so he manages. Unfortunately, he's still in the habit of skipping meetings and ceremonies he deems unnecessary or a waste of his time, which earns him pockets of ire. He usually just shoots back with, "Yeah? So what? I'm still gettin' results, ain't I?"

Political demands? Not a problem for him. But family? That's the real pain in his tail. Cheka, now an energetic 15-year old, has not let up on bothering him one bit. Then there's also the affectionate Falena, who is trying to desperately reconnect with his estranged brother. Leona just tosses out the excuse of "being busy" to dodge the both of them.

Vil continues to be an A-list celebrity and triple threat--actor, model, and influencer. He has racked up several more leading roles since his school days, including non-traditional bad guys. Vil has been an anti-villain and sympathetic villain.

Having aged like fine wine, he was able to play the character of a father too, just like how he dreamed of as a third-year student. When Vil got the call about the role, he excitedly told his own dad about it, who was so ecstatic and joked that Vil "takes after his old man". They went out for a little father-son bonding time to celebrate, dining at a high-class establishment and having a toast to Vil's future.

It was a Big Deal when Vil was offered his first-ever hero role. Social media and news outlets were popping off about it, and Vil himself was so excited he actually squealed. To this day he still considers it a turning point in his career and one of the most fun characters he ever played. Since then, he's been getting much more diverse roles, which has really opened up the door for him to expand his skills.

Vil is also a business owner now, having several brands under him. A skincare brand, a clothing brand, a makeup brand… Despite them being celebrity owned, the products are actually high quality (Vil won’t sign his name off on subpar products) and very popular, particularly whenever his face is plastered on the marketing campaigns.

These days, he allows himself to be a little less guarded with his front-facing persona. Vil still comes off as cool and regal, but notably laughs more, smiles more, even giggles more. He has a bit of a youthful sparkle to him and talks openly about his own struggles, fears, hopes, and dreams. Fans praise him for being so much more "relatable" and honest.

Rook claims that he is a globe-trotting archeologist now, but you get the feeling that he’s not telling the full truth. What kind of archeologist carries around a belt of weirdly invasive tools on it? Are those teeny-tiny listening devices? And why is his camera (which he says is strictly for his photography hobby) loaded with shots of suspicious characters taken from a distance?

He shares all kinds of crazy stories, like about the time he swung from a vine with a family of gorillas or how he discovered a lever that revealed a roller coaster to a secret underground laboratory. “Um, are those the kinds of things an archaeologist does…?” you ask him. Rook just smiles and laughs, but doesn’t provide a clear answer.

His stealth and marksman skills have developed to a scary degree. You sometimes forget that Rook is even standing beside you, and you've witnessed him kill bugs with frightening precision with nothing more than his gloved fingers. He brushes it off as abilities he sharpened "on the job".

... In any case, whatever Rook's actual occupation is, it requires a lot of travel. He lavishes his friends with souvenirs and post cards of the loveliest sights, then babbles on and on about local attractions, culture, art, and charming hole-in-the-wall destinations. It seems like he has accumulated a lot of knowledge about Twisted Wonderland in the 10 years since you've last seen him, and he's all too eager to blab about it all.

He's become an artist, although he operates under a pen name. You'll find paintings, sculptures, or collages he has assembled in various small exhibitions, and poetry he has penned where you least expect it. Rook puts his talent out in hopes of beautifying the world.

Idia has succeeded his father as the Director of S.T.Y.X. There’s a lot riding on his shoulders, but the pressure surprisingly never really gets to him. He’s cooler, more methodical now—almost as though he were a machine himself, set so clearly on his task that he won’t budge until it is completed first. (He worries that he has become just like his downer dad 💀)

Sometimes he spirals and his nerves get the best of him. In those cases, he has to resort to the text to speech device he invented back at NRC to get through his meetings. The staff at S.T.Y.X. get used to it and are largely alright with it.

He has the habit of snacking on the job. There's chip crumbs and gummy worms scattered on his desk, which is already messy enough with important documents. (He complains that this should all be digitalized anyway!) Idia keeps even more snacks in his pockets, munching on them whenever he’s annoyed or needs to give himself something to do.

The dark circles under his eyes get way worse. With work eating up so much of his day, Idia has less free time to games and other hobbies. That just means he ends up staying up super late into the night to catch up on his dailies and to grind out events, read manga, watch anime, etc. (“Sleep is for the weak!” he insists.) It’s a miracle he can still get up in the mornings to clock in for his next shift!

Shockingly, Idia takes breaks to go outside and touch grass soak up some (artificial) sunshine. He has learned from past experience that being locked up indoors all the time isn't exactly healthy. That, and his Chief of Cybersecurity (Ortho) pesters him to put himself out there more! Sometimes Idia even awkwardly tries to converse with his coworkers around the water cooler, though that's never quite as relaxing as him just chilling by himself in some quiet corner of the Island of Woe.

Make way for the reigning king of Briar Valley! Maleficia has finally retired, passing on her title to her grandson Malleus. There was a coronation ceremony (now recognized as the holiday or Ascension in Briar Valley), which you were of course invited to as a guest. You had a seat up front and were one of the first to congratulate him right after he was officially crowned.

As a relatively young king, Malleus isn’t the perfect ruler right away. Learning about ruling is nothing close to actually ruling. He stumbles and has to adjust to the role and, most of all, he has to balance the conservative values of his country and his people with the ever-changing lands beyond his home. Not an easy task, especially when he has only just gotten used to the concept of change himself—but with the support of his like-minded retainers, Malleus knows he isn’t alone in his endeavors for a brighter tomorrow.

His power also poses another challenge. Malleus is so used to solving his issues by casting a spell or terrifying his opposition into backing down. He’s no longer in a position to do such things or to let his emotions run wild, lest he risk tearing apart his own court and driving a wedge between the valley and other countries. A leash on his temper, a regal demeanor—this is how a mature adult presents himself. The anger only truly comes out when his people are in danger or he is deeply insulted.

His top priority once he is in power is restoring the bonds that were put in jeopardy on account of his… “oopsie” in his third year at NRC. There’s still lingering distrust between him and other nations due to that incident, so Malleus makes it clear that he’s apologetic and willing to come to the table for discussion, should other countries wish. His schedule is jam-packed with meetings with foreign dignitaries.

Massive and sweeping reform is not happening—not anytime soon. No opening of the borders, no sudden introduction of new technology. There would be massive outcry and resistance from the public + senators, not to mention that Malleus himself isn’t entirely comfortable yet with the concept. However, he has put together incremental proposals and tries convince others of the benefits, implanting the seeds in the minds of the people. He’s also supportive of initiatives which promote learning and cultural exchange, such as the import of reading materials from overseas (Sebek’s idea) and has even appointed Silver as Briar Valley’s very first human ambassador.

Lilia has comfortably retired to the Land of Crimson Long. He lives in a little hut far removed from civilization, but he ventures out into the town to pick up the essentials and to play board games with the local retirees. For the most part, it’s just Lilia and the wilderness! ... Which has led to rumors of a monster haunting the forest. This, Lilia entertains in by dropping down from the trees and frightening any hooligans who come close to his territory.

Though his magical abilities have been in decline, he does his best to stay active and in shape! Lilia once snuck into a nearby military camp, disguising himself as one of the new recruits, and partook in their training with them! He even stopped to lend extra help to the recruits who seemed to be struggling the most--though he still came first place in all of their exercises and holds the record time for climbing to the top of a pole to retrieve the arrow there.

He delights in partaking in the local customs and cuisine. Lilia loves to travel to shrines and admire the temples built to honor ancestors. He lights up some incense and joins others in prayer, knowing that he, too, will one day be among the dead. Best to pay respects now! Lilia has also taken to several cups of tea (as recommended by his doctor) with his meals, and has rice porridge with sunnyside egg eyes and bacon smiles whenever he needs something comforting.

Lilia of course keeps in touch with his loved ones! He's still gaming with his online companion Gloomurai and texts his Diasomnia boys all the time. Lilia also sends cards for special occasions, putting much love and care into his notes and the pictures + souvenirs he attaches to them.

His whole face lights up when his friends are able to make the time to pay him a visit. Lilia makes a big show of it, insisting to arrange a big feast or to play a tune for them—oh, and how about a fireworks show?! But his guests just tell him to sit down and take it easy while they take care of everything for him. It’s his turn to be doted on!

[igotanidea]

Bound by business: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Jason x information dealer reader. He only came for the info, but one thing led to another, a bit of whiskey and some teasing and - .... And she's a self made gotham.boss bitch falling for no one...

Warnings: SMUT MDNI!, dirty talk, p in v, teasing, angst

A/N : Been a while since I wrote smut and a story this long. Let me down gently. XD

***

It was dark and the rain was heavy, doing nothing to hide Jason’s irritation as he speeded on his motorcycle to the bad side of Gotham if there was any good side of Gotham in the first place.

Once having reached his destination, he took his helmet off letting rain wet his ruffled hair and started banging on the door.

His contact in the criminal world had been hard lately and he had no idea why, but the reasons behind the sudden change in the attitude were far from his interest.

HE and Y/N had a long history, went way back to the times when he was Robin and she was a good girl, both memories seeming like a fucking grotesque now.

“Y/N! Open the fuck up!”

“The hell Jason?!”

The door opened but she made no move to invite him inside despite the downpour on the outside. Instead she settled on watching him shake the water off like a dog, deriving some sadistic pleasure from the fact he could barely see with his hair stuck to his forehead and falling into his eyes.  

“The gun shipment. Tonight. I need details. Time, place, figures involved.

“Well hello to you too, Jason. I’ve been fine thanks for asking.” She scoffed and then smirked.

“I don’t have time for this shit-“

“Right, right, of course. I probably should thank you for not putting a gun to my head right away, right?”

“That is to be rectified at any moment now.” He reached towards his holster.

“Don’t be stupid, Jason. You know you only get this far with things because of me. You don’t want to lose an ally, do you?”

“You’re just an information dealer. Plenty of those in Gotham.”

“Mhm. Sure. And how many of them are as skilled as I am?”

He scoffed, pushing right past her, casually shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the couch.

“Yeah by all means, ruin my furniture. Drink?” she asked, heading towards the cabinet

“Whiskey. Neat.”

“Wow, someone finally developed some standards. What gives?”

Jason scoffed again.

“Standards, my ass. It’s at your expense so why would I hold back?”

“I might hold you accountable to that in the future. Cheers.”

“Cheers.”

The glasses clinked and for a moment they both sipped their drinks in silence which gave Jason a second to actually look at her. She was a badass, that was what he knew. But every time he came around to her place, which was not really happening that often, she was almost innocent. Ironically. No make up, comfy clothes, just hoodie and yoga pants. He had seen women try harder to look I-woke-up-like-this.

Y/N was just being comfortable. 

“What’s with the look Jace?” she smirked from under the rim of her glass, her eyes piercing into him.

“I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About why you are suddenly not giving me shit.”

“It’s been a long day if you must know. Long and hard day. My shit giving attitude and my humor might be a little off. ”

“Huh!” he huffed dismissively “hard day? You want to hear about a hard day? The one involving guns and fights? And being stabbed with a knife? Twice?“

“We all have our own definition of a hard day, you fool. You deal with bullets, I deal with people.”

“So you’re basically saying that people are worse than guns? Seriously? Damn, girl you got some audacity there.” He half-laughed, taking another sip of the whiskey and swirling the beverage “so, spill. Which one of your usual charming assholes got under your skin?”

“Luckily someone I do not have any respect for.”

“You have respect for no one, sunshine. But please, do tell. Did you kick him in the groin or punched him in the face?”

“Something like that.” She smirked, clearly so full of herself.

“Please tell me you at least broke his nose.”

“I did no permanent damage, that's all I can say.”

“Meaning you did something painful, but not crippling.” He nodded. He was actually learning to use the same method. Putting a gun to people's heads and shooting them dead was not very useful while searching for info. But then again, he had Y/N for that latter purpose. “Black eye? Twisted arm?”

“I thought you came here about the gun shipment info?” she finally sat on the couch and turned to face him with a hint of tease in her eyes.

“I did. But should it stop me from having a little polite conversation with my favorite partner in crime?” Jason leaned back on the coach with a sly smile

“Mh! I call bullshit.”

“How’s your hand doing?”

The question took her by surprise. Right, the hand, of course he knew about it. She got injured during one of her quests last week and has been dealing with the consequences ever since.

“I’m handling.”

“Uh!” Jason raised his hand stopping her in the middle of the sentence “Let me translate: it hurts like hell but you won’t admit it.” Y/N would never confront her pain – neither physical nor emotional. And yes, he was doing the same but it was easier to notice it in someone else than in himself. “So, given the state of that limb you must have got to that asshole pretty hard. Good job, I’ll give you that. It’s not every day I get to hear about your violent tendencies….” He chuckled and sipped the last of his drink, putting the glass back on the table, his eyes fixed on hers with a mischief in them.

“Oh you know damn well about my violent tendencies…”

“Damn right I do. And don’t I just love every fucking one of them…” his voice dropped an octave as he leaned forward, never dropping the gaze.  “Nothing sexier than a woman who can handle herself…”

“Oh yeah?” she allowed him the sudden closeness, clearly enjoying the blooming game “never took you for a guy who loved being manhandled..”

“Oh I am not. But I’m a sucker for watching someone deserving of it experiencing that treatment.” Jason's gaze moved down her body appreciatively, lingering on the swell of her breast under the hoodie and the curve of her hips accentuated by that stupid leggings. He knew she had curves under all those clothes. “It’s a fucking turn on.” He added in a husky tone. 

“Is it now…?” she hummed moving a little closer on the couch, her own drink landing on the table as well as she placed palms on his thighs, using it to lean even more forwards, leaving less than an inch between their faces.

“Fuck yeah it is…” his breath caught in his throat a little at the unexpected but not unwelcomed touch. “Seeing you lay someone down with those gorgeous hands of yours….” He licked his lips.

“Mhm… keep talking…” Y/N switched positions, now sitting on his lap, straddling him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and he instinctively grabbed onto her hips.  Gods, he was a man and suddenly realized how long it’s been since he had a one night stand, too busy with work.

But this?

This was getting dangerous and deep down he knew that once started, wouldn’t end up easily.

This was not going to be just scratching an itch like it usually was. This would hurt a lot and mixing business with pleasure was never a good idea.

But he couldn’t stop, the primal part of his brain already awakened by the closeness of her body, her almost gentle caresses and the soft, sweet yet seductive tone he had never heard before but she had mastered to perfection.

“I said…” she leaned to his ear “keep talking…”

“Fucks…” he groaned staring at her with undisguised lust “the though of you getting dirty… rough….”

“Uh-huh…” she hummed and started grinding on him. Slowly, almost torturously, causing Jason to take a sharp inhale of breath, but quickly composing himself.

“You always fight like that, princess?” his hands wandered from her hips to her ass, squeezing the ample flesh, pulling her closer to the bulge in his pants.

“Only for the special ones.”

 “Special ones, huh?” he held her hips tighter guiding her movements “Like when you want to prove a point? Or-“

“Or. Definitely or.”

She threw her head back, exposing her neck, giving him not-so-subtle hints.

“Or when you want to send a message?” he willingly moved his lips down her skin, sucking on the pulse points, earning a little, delicious moan and hand tangling in his hair. “A message that you’re taken?”

“Am I taken? Can’t remember…” she pulled back, taking off her hoodie and discarding her bra.

“Fuck yeah, you’re taken.” His lips moved lower, kissing her collarbone and cleavage.

“Good to know…” she made a quick movement to pull and toss his shirt somewhere in the room intensifying her movements on his ever growing tent “I think the gun shipment changed the location…”

“You fucking tease.” Jason hissed, changing the positions so she was trapped beneath his body. “Eight inches. Semi-automatic. Brand new and ready for action.”

“Well don’t I love being at a gunpoint…” her hand found a way to his groin, starting to palm the bulge, enjoying the way she seemed to still be in control, even with him on top.

“Oh yeah? A gun to your head?” he groaned, barely controlling himself.

“Maybe not to my head…”

Y/N wriggled on the bed, rolling on her belly for a moment to reach for the condom in the nightstand and that moment was enough for Jason to get hypnotized by that bounding piece of ass.

“I really hope the biggest size will fit you—”

“Fuck, I’ll stuff you so full you won’t walk for a week.”

He pushed her legs open with his knee, doing a quick job of rolling the latex on his length, teasing her clit with a few featherlight touches, loving how she seemed to beg for more with every squirm and entered her in one deep thrust.

“Big enough for you?” he bit her earlobe licking the shell right after, his voice low.  

“I – mmm… shit…”

“Have you ever had this big?” The thrusts were long and hard and deliciously painful at first before turning into a series of perfectly aimed and ideally paced movements that made her gasp from pleasure. “Answer the question, princess.”

“I – ah! Ah, shit!” nails of the right hand dug into the mattress hard enough to make holes, the other hand reaching for the pillow, quickly pressing it between her head and the headboard to prevent the potential concussion. He was not a semi-automatic gun machine. More like a rifle, never shooting blanks. Thank fucks, she was prepared in many ways and started taking pills a few weeks prior. Not that it was her plan or anything. 

“What was that?” he rocked faster and harder, pulling all the way back only to slam right back inside. “Too much for you, slut?”

“Make me come! Make me fucking come to give me incentive to answer that stupid question!”

“Seems to me like I’m fucking your brains out. Is that right, pretty? Am I fucking you stupid?”

“Fuck!”

“Yeah… you’re so fucked, baby.” He was now hitting her cervix with such a speed and strength as if his life was depending on it. “Fucked by no. One. Else. But. The. Red. Hood.“ Each word was punctuated by a deep movement and if someone asked she would swear it was reaching her stomach. Or maybe she just ate something bad.

“It’s an – ohhh! – oh shit!” she gasped, unable to finish the sentence for a moment. “It’s an honor for you to have me like this….” There was no way she was going to let him win and really fuck her stupid.

“Oh I know… But no one else is big and strong enough for you” he circled her clit, bending head to suck her nipple, leaving a wet trail from one breast to another “now, come for me… come baby…”

She bit her lips so hard that a blood appeared on the bottom one, quickly licking it off, turning Jason wild. He was a sucker for blood. Not only the shooting kind, clearly.

“Yeah…. Yeah…oh! Oh!”

She could feel his pace faltering a little as he was so close to his own climax.

And used it against him, hitting right into the momentum, somehow managing to end up on top of him again, hands on his chest, breasts bouncing, ass slapping on his cock as she rocked up and down, still in control.

“Fuck! Y/n!”

“Yeah, yeah that’s right, moan my name as you come Jason Todd. Red Hood. Whatever. Scream my name.”

“You- where did you learn how to take cock like that—”

“You wouldn’t like the answer. Now come on!” It was immensely hard to keep herself from diving into the sea of release but she knew how to get what she wanted. Years of effing experience in this fucked up place.  

His hands were on her ass, squeezing mercilessly, almost to the point of pain as he finally reached the stars.

Only then she allowed herself to let go as well. Winning, yet again, falling on top of him like a marathon runner who scored a gold medal even if there were truly no losers in this game of love. At least not in terms of the body.

“Damn… you’re heavy…” he hissed, wrapping arms around her, trapping her on top of him, nuzzling nose into her hair. She was right with him, next to him, so warm and soft and tender, making him feel so good, so nice, so liberated.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy my fat ass bouncing on you.”

“Too tired to even try to pretend.” He whispered, trying to kiss her softly, but much to his surprise, she rolled off him, swiftly avoiding his grip, grabbed the hoodie from the floor and stood up fixing her hair, letting it fall down her back like a h/c waterfall.

“Well this was nice.” Her tone was flat, unamused and the warmth in his chest turned into icy cold right away.

“Wait… what? But-“

“I’m gonna go piss now. Can’t risk any STIs. Those hurt like hell, not to mention it’s kind of embarrassing explaining to my Ob-gyn why I wasn’t careful again. I swear one more time and she’ll drop me as a patient.”

Was this a joke to her!?

“But-“ he stuttered looking at her with wide eyes. This was not what he expected at all and there were like a million questions in his head.  “Y/n-“

“I’ll be right back, but hey – hygiene right? You should get yourself cleaned too” she grabbed the towel from the rack and threw it on him, effectively flattening his still semi-hard cock and his appetite and energy for another round.

“But –“

“This is serious shit Jason! Gotta stay healthy if we’re to repeat it.”

She winked suggestively, rushing to the bathroom, leaving a little crack in the door, so he could faintly hear her peeing.

What was wrong with this girl!?

This must have been just some stupid nightmare, a product of his tired, messed up, beaten brain--

“So. You wanted to talk about something?” she was back about a minute later. “hey, you still didn’t clean up?”

“Are you always like this?”

“Like what?” she touched her right buttock and hissed at the contact with a scratch his hands left on the skin.

“This no-nonsense attitude!”

“What else do you want me to do?” she tilted her head, looking at him quizzically

 “Oh I don’t know!” he finally lost his patience, feeling too vulnerable and too emotional for his own liking, feeling the compelling need to cover himself. Both physically and emotionally. “Normally people like to – oh, I don’t know – talk after sex? Maybe cuddle a little? But you’re just like oh, hey, it was a nice fuck, thanks for letting me use you, dressing and washing up like a freaking germophobe!” he got tangled in his pants, hardly preventing himself from tripping which would be even more condescending.

“Jason-“

“I’m being serious here Y/N!”

‘You called me slut.” She deadpanned, raising an eyebrow.

‘I called you – ok, fine! Fine I called you slut. Is that why you’re suddenly icing me out?”

“No.”

“No!? That’s it? That’s all you got? I can’t fucking believe it!” he punched the wall leaving a little dent, but the broken pride clearly did not affect Y/N.

“Could you please calm down and stop depriving me of my deposit on this place? I’d appreciate it.”

“You’re fucking unbelievable!”

“I don’t understand why you’re being so emotional about it Jason.” It might have been a mirage but from Jason’s perspective it looked like Y/N literally rolled her eyes!

“We had sex!”

“Yes? and?” She hesitated giving him a chance to explain further but he was just standing there with eyes wide and mouth open. “Oh come on, this was just an itch, right? We’re bound by business, not pleasure. You don’t mix two explosives like us. It’s just unwise. We’re both adults, sex is not always about deeper feelings-”

She was still talking but he could hardly hear anything with the way blood was humming in his ears, successfully blocking any other bullshit coming out of her mouth (thankfully for Jason though).

Bound by business.

Mixing explosives.

Unwise.

Unwise!

Fucking unwise!?

“Jason?” she smiled softly, as if nothing happened, bending down and searching his eyes. “That gun shipment of yours? It happens in an hour at the docks and everything is orchestrated by Black Mask. I would take some backup if I were you, it might get ugly.”

“Yeah. Whatever.”

Without any further words he walked outside, feeling defeated like never before and the nail to the coffin was the sound of the door being locked right after him.

He should have known better that a girl who climbed this high in the criminal underworld would be fucked up in some way.

But how can one prepare for the reality of the broken heart?

Back up his ass. He was about to turn his newly found pain into rage and kill each and every one of Sionis’ men himself.

The moon was about to turn bloody that night….

And the worst part?

She was still his information dealer. The best in Gotham, regardless of what he might have said before.

And he was still going to work with her.

Do you know that warning : don’t drink and drive or better : don’t drink and text?

Yep.

Another one should be the warning of developing feelings for your literal partner in crime. 

@lettucel0ver @oohyasumi @apple---cider---vinegar

[softtdaisy]

a better father / Aaron Hotchner

summary. All Hotch wanted was to get a second chance to be a better dad. And now that you were offering him this chance, he fears he might have failed already.

words count. 2,465

a/n.  I got this idea with the episode from season two when Haley comes and she tells Hotch that he forgot about an appointment for Jack and I was like omg I need to do something with that so here's sad Aaron again

Being an FBI agent and a dad was sometimes hard to combine. Hotch knew something about that. 

He had a lot of regrets about Jack. Not being there much when he was a baby, not seeing his first steps, hearing his first word, and missing so many memories that were nicely caught on camera by Haley. Things he could never make up for.

And no matter how often Jack could tell him that he didn’t hold any grudge against his dad, Hotch still felt bad most of the time. Wishing he could get a second chance to be a better dad. 

At some point, he accepted that it would never happen. He was getting older, and the morality wanted him to date women close to his age. Which wasn’t a bad thing at all. He had wonderful dates with them. But none of them wanted to have a child. Some already had one, some never wanted to get pregnant, and some simply couldn’t. And of course it was never a cause of a breakup—or stop seeing them, because Hotch didn’t date most of them. Hotch simply accepted he won’t be a dad again. 

Then he met you.

You were an old friend of JJ's that he met at her birthday. Your work made you travel around the world for many years, which explained your absence during the past parties and you being unknown to most of the team. But you were back in town, ready to meet new people and start a new life.

Hotch never believed in fate.

But he was sure he was destined to meet you.

You were so full of life, acting like a ray of sunshine in every room you were in. And not that he considered himself dark, but he had to admit that his life and job had quite an impact on how he perceived himself. As someone who wasn’t very funny or joyful to be around. Not a very good dad or a nice partner. And sometimes, not even a great boss.

His life was pretty much in black and white. And when you came around, you brought colors with you.

It started that very first night, when you spent almost an hour sitting outside with Aaron. Drinking and watching the stars.

“Shouldn’t you be with JJ?” He asked after you finished a conversation about your favorite countries to visit and the one you recommended for someone like him.

“Don’t know,” you replied, shrugging. “I like being with you.”

Aaron could blame the alcohol for the redness on his cheeks, but you both knew it was insecurity and flattering. It’s been a long time since someone pointed out how they liked spending time with him. He felt…alive, knowing that you wanted to be around him.

And you weren’t lying for a single second. “You’re an interesting man, Aaron Hotchner. You need to let people see that.” you added, giving him a little shoulder bump. You kept your shoulder against his for a second. You loved the little smile your words created and the sparks that appeared in his eyes.

You felt lucky that you were one of the few people he offered a glimpse of the real him.

It started with coffee dates once a week. Before he went to work, and while you were still discovering your new life back in town, you met at the same coffee shop for an hour. You talked about everything, more life than work. You wanted to see Aaron, and not Hotch, the man JJ told you about. 

Even if she gave you such a good description of him that you were already willing to give him your heart without any hesitation.

You loved discovering new things about him every week. 

Each smile was breaking the wall around him.

Each time he put his hand on yours was him installing himself in your life.

And each kiss was you giving your heart to each other. 

These coffee dates were still a thing.

They just happened every day, at the place you were now sharing together.

And not only did you give him a lot of things already, you offered him the chance he thought wouldn’t come again, which he sadly accepted. 

To be a dad again.

You were four months pregnant, and it wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. Either the stress that comes from work or the fact Aaron still felt like he was too old for this, for you. But he was trying his best to make things as perfect as they could be. He was leaving the BAU earlier than before, and every day off was for Jack and for you. 

And every night, he made sure to have at least half an hour with you in the baby’s room to talk about the future.

But sometimes, dealing with both situations can be difficult. And today was another proof.

What was supposed to be a calm office day turned out to be more rough and animated. A new case came in the morning and turned out to be in town. 

Hotch was part of the team that went out to catch the unsub. He was going less on the field these days. There was a selfish reason behind that: he didn’t want to stress you or miss anything important with the baby. But the case being in Virginia, he took the opportunity to follow Spencer and Emily outside while JJ stayed with Penelope, like the good old days.

“God, I wish every case were as simple as this one.” Emily said when they came back to the car, the unsub was with the police officers. And Hotch had to admit it was pretty easy this time. He couldn’t wait to tell you about this one, how good it felt to be back there.

He could already hear you say something like, “We’ll tell our baby how their dad is a superhero,” which reminded him of when Jack used to see him like that. He hoped your baby would feel the same about him.

What if they hated him? What if they blame him for being away, for not doing enough? What if someone terrible happened to them because of his job?

Most of the time, Hotch managed to put these bad ideas away. And when he couldn’t, he found comfort in your arms. That’s what he needed right now.

He only had one thing to do: check on JJ and Penelope once he was back at the office to conclude his report and make sure everybody could go back home soon. Him included.

When Hotch entered Penelope’s office, he was welcomed by her confused and surprised face. “Sir? What are you doing here?” she asked. She got up and took a few steps towards him to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” he asked, even more confused than her. 

And the confusion just kept growing when he looked around and noticed Penelope was alone. “Where is JJ?” 

“Hmm, at the hospital?” From her tone, Hotch could tell that Penelope assumed he was supposed to know about her absence and the reason behind it. “[Y/N] called her?” This wasn’t a real question, because Penelope was there when you called. She heard you. But she couldn’t understand why she would know about that before Hotch.

And he couldn’t believe what he just heard. Sure, it made sense that you would call JJ if you needed help. She was one of your emergency contacts. But why wouldn’t you call him? 

Looking for his phone to check on you, Hotch realized his mistake.

He forgot his phone at his office. And spend the whole day assuming you were fine.

Before Penelope could explain the situation, or maybe she did, but he didn’t listen, Hotch ran to his office. He probably jostled some people in the rush, and there was a high possibility that he forgot to apologize. But it wasn’t his priority. Especially not when he grabbed his phone and saw the notification.

Six missing calls.

Around ten texts.

All from you.

You’ve got awful cramps when you wake up, and nothing would make them go away. You spent most of your day in bed, crying—which you didn’t tell Aaron, but he could hear the tears in your voice in one of your voicemails. You were asking him to come and bring you to the hospital to make sure the baby was doing fine.

But he never answered.

“I called JJ; she’s coming. Please don’t worry and text me when you see this. I love you,” said the last one.

When he dialed your phone, Hotch met your answering machine. 

He kept trying during the drive to the hospital. But all he could hear was your joyful voice asking to leave a message and that you would call back later. 

Never has Aaron needed to hear your voice so badly as right now.

The hospital wasn’t too far away from the bureau. Which didn’t prevent him from driving way above the limits. Not that he cared this time. 

Even if Aaron had prepared his speech in the car to appear calm, he lost his words right when he made his first step in the hospital. Being there was scary. Hopefully, when he arrived, the first person he saw was JJ. He rushed to her, almost scaring her from the way he grabbed her arm.

“Where is she? How is she? And the baby?” 

“Slow down, breathe for a second,” she replied, putting a hand on top of his to try and reassure him. “She is fine. And the baby too.”

The seven words that he needed to hear the most.

“I was supposed to bring her home, but she’ll be happy to have you.” JJ added with a sweet smile. If someone could understand Aaron’s position here, it was her.

Once she indicated to him the room you were staying in and he introduced himself to the nurse, Aaron rushed to meet you.

He was relieved to see you, for real. Sitting on the bed with your eyes closed. He took a second to look at you. Aaron hated that feeling in his stomach. He didn’t realize that until now, there was a quiet thought in his head saying that maybe he wouldn’t see you again. 

But you were there, looking better than he imagined you would. 

And when you opened your eyes and saw the man you love in front of you, you lit up the whole room with your eyes. “Aaron, you’re here!”

“Of course, I am,” he sighed, with a tired smile. He finally walked up to you and accepted the arms you were opening for him. It’s been a long time since a hug had felt this good for him. He let it go for a few seconds, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of having you close to him like that. He imagined you were home, in your bed, on a Sunday morning. Not at the hospital. 

Then everything hit him back. You, being sick and pregnant. Him, not being here for you.

Aaron kissed your forehead before cupping your face with his hands. “What happened?”

“The doctor said it wasn’t serious. Sometimes you get cramped and sick during the second semester. Basically, the baby is telling me to relax and stop overworking.” You replied with a soft laugh that wasn’t effective enough to stop him from frowning. “Love, we are both fine.”

“But I wasn’t there.” 

It hurt you how his voice sounded so sad. 

You heard Aaron speaking when he was physically hurt. And you already hated the way he would contain the pain by gritting his teeth, making his voice sound deeper and heavier. You always thought he was blaming himself for not being careful enough, which explained the tone.

But this time it was different. Aaron sounded like he hated himself for what he thought was a disappointment for you. But for him, mostly. His voice was broken, almost unintelligible. Like he didn’t want to be heard. And deep down, even if it was a part of his life you’d barely ever talked about, you knew where this was coming from.

"Aaron," you said softly, asking him to focus on you and not his pain. "I'm good. We're good.”

When he finally looked up to you, you met his red eyes. “These moments, they’ll happen again, you know.” 

He let out a sad sigh. “That’s not what I want.”

“I know, but you can’t blame yourself for that. This is your job. And we all accept it,” you said. You took one of his hands to put on your rounded belly. “She does too.”

Aaron opened his mouth to reply and argue on how this wasn’t the family dynamic he wanted for his second child. Not again. 

But no sound left his mouth. Which made you smile. This was exactly the reaction you expected from your so serious and composed boyfriend.

“She?” he finally replied, this time the glow in his eyes being replaced by happiness and surprise.

“The doctor did an ultrasound to make sure everything was alright. And this little princess inside finally decided to stop the mystery around herself.” You explained, but it would be a miracle if Aaron even heard you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction: his mouth open, his eyes going from yours to your belly like he was trying to comprehend what you said. “We’re having a baby girl, Aaron.” This time, you couldn’t contain your own tears.

This was all Aaron needed to put all his stress behind. He couldn’t think about his job and everything that came with it when now he knew that in a few months, he would hold in his arms the miracle he couldn’t wish for anymore. A daughter that will be the result of the love he had for you. A daughter that he will love as much as he loves you. As much as he loves Jack.

Even if he still couldn’t speak, you could tell he was as excited as you by the situation. But there was still one thing that was waiting to be clarified.

“And wanna know the best part?” you asked, slowly caressing your cheek. “She’ll be the biggest daddy’s girl and will always love you. When you’re home, at work, or away. You’ll hold a special place in her heart, forever, Aaron Hotchner.” 

Being an FBI agent and a dad was sometimes hard to combine. But Aaron knew that he was fighting alone to find the perfect balance between both. 

He had you. And a perfect family to make sure he was a great man and a great father.

[myladysapphire]

A doe a Deer - A name i call myself

being the youngest archeron sister often meant that you were the forgotten one, no one ever saw you, until he did.

Azriel x Archeron!OC

Word count: 2,180

CW: mdi 18+, selective mutism, ableims?, death? self-hate, self-doubt, sad boy Azriel, angst, Daphne goes on a jounrey of self discovery in this one. not beta read!

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

Shock resounded across the field as they took in the state of the once war-torn field. The hight lords had all left the tent where the cauldron had been broken and then re-made, where a high lord had died and been reborn. They had thought that would be the most shocking thing that would have happened. That nothing could beat the very destruction of the very object that created the universe.

And yet as they left the tent, expecting the battle to be in full swing still, they ere left with the sight of Daphne Archeron. On her knees her hands outstretched and holding what seemed to be that of a thousand suns in the palm of her hand.

They heard the screams, the begs and the cries of Hyberns men. How the army that outmatched the combined power of seven courts, was eviscerated into nothing but dust.

And then the light changed from a golden blinding ray to a soft sliver glow. The power expanding to where their soldiers stood or flew, having stooped in shocked as their weapons pointed at nothing but piles of dust. As they all turned their eyes to her.

Fear claimed there faces, only to be meet with nothing but a soothing feeling. As their wounds were healed, and their dead reborn.

Their fear morphed into more shock, then into cries of joy, of celebration and victory.

Her name became a cheer, and the name “the saviour of Prythian” quickly found purchase in Daphne Archeron.

The sky had kept a golden hue to it, as if the sun refused to leave and the moon had simply made space in the sky for it. with the sheer strength of her power lingering even hours after, with no focus or thought, as made apparent by Daphne’s blank face.

The question of how she did it still lingered in the air, though she was cauldron made it seemed she had embodied the very might of the cauldron. Even when it had been broken, her power so strong inside her that even as the universe began to shatter, she could still harness the remnants of it.

And because of it, some had even called her a god.

Though if Daphne hadn’t dissociated completely, she would have scoffed at the word. She wasn’t a god, she was just a girl given powers beyond imaginable thought and magic she didn’t need and never wanted.

Hours later, after being coaxed from the battlefield and taken to her tent, she was still sat staring at her hands shocked and confused.

She only remembered parts of what happened, but not why. She had felt the hopelessness of her new family, the defeat she felt from falling soldiers and rage had built with in her, the grief from loosing her father. And as a result, she had become a unbreakable force, wiping out a large army by herself.

She remembered the looks on everyone’s faces. The shock. The horror.

Nesta and Elain had looked at her in disbelief, almost as if they had started fearing her, despite Nesta holding the decapitated head of the king of Hybern in her hand.

It scared her. Scared her that she was capable of doing something like that and what she even could do that and what else she could possibly do.

What if she hurt someone she loved?

But what scared he the most was the fact that’s she could still feel it bubbling inside her. Surely its should all be gone. Surely, she had used every last drop of her magic and she needed to rebuild it.

But as sun danced on her fingers I her pitch-black tent she feared she would be seen as a weapon, as something to fear. And she hated it.

Feyre had told her how proud she was of her, a smile on her lips as her the inner circle all gathered, following the meetings to discuss the war and a possible new treaty.

She had said nothing. And though that was nothing new.

She made no effort to communicate, not with her eyes or facial expression. Not with her hands. Nothing.

Azriel shadows hugged themselves around her skin, oddly drawn to her light.

They traced over her skin as if to offer comfort. But she didn’t even react to them, causing a frown to tug at Azriel’s lips.

She usually lit up when his shadows surrounded her. A smile always tugging at her lips, a happy glint in her eye.

But now there was nothing.

Nothing as the inner circle cheered and celebrated.

But Daphne simply sat and watched.

Nesta had vanished. Though no one seemed to be notice, expect Cassian of course. whose eyes darted around the tent searching for her.

Later that night, she still sat in the same spot as before, her eyes focused on her hands.

Everyone had left for bed, and only daphne and azriel remained.

“daphne” he spoke, moving to sit beside her.

She didn’t look up, her gaze fixated on her hands, drops of sunlight dancing around her fingers.

“daphne” he spoke again, his voice soft but concerned. “What is it?” he asked, the bond between them thrumming in his chest.

She had cut him off, the little connection they had from their bond, a bond neither of them had yet to acknowledge to the other but both knew they over knew of it.

His hand reached for hers, his eyes drawn to the drops of sunlight that his shadows seemed to play with.

A hot seeing pain pierced his skin as his already scarred and brunt flesh was met with the heat of the sun.

She startled back as he hissed in pain.

Her eyes widening in horror.

Standing up quickly, she ran from the rent. Her eyes swelling with sorrow and the bond filling with pleas of forgiveness.

Days passed and no one had seen Daphne. Not even Azriel’s shadows had found her.

And though she wasn’t the only Archeron sister to leave after the war, at least the inner circle knew where she was, where she lived and could find her when needed.

But Daphne? She was simply gone.

Her room in the townhouse was locked, a barrier in place that know one could breach. And yet Azriel knew she wasn’t in there.

He had tugged and tugged on the bond, but found no purchase, but at least it was there, and she was alive, that was enough, right?

It wasn’t for Daphne, not as she had returned to the sight of the war. The place she became a monster.

At least that was the name she had given herself.

She had ignored the praise, the songs that were sung in her honour. And named herself a monster. It was how she saw herself, because she was. She had heart Azriel without even thinking, had reduced thousands to nothing.

She ignored the good she had done, the healing and allowing solders to return home to their families.

Ignored the long feeling she felt every second of every day, the urge to respond to Azriel’s incessant tugs.

And had simple sat and started to think.

In the dust filled field, the remnants of swords, and arrows. Shields and helmets all left and abandoned; she had reflected on herself.

The burden she had been her how life, the illness that had nearly taken her. And how she was gifted with immortality and an ability to irradicate armies.

She had become everything she ever wanted, in truth.

Her whole life she had wished to be okay, to not be plagued with a constant illness. To not hear the tolls of death every winter season. To be able to speak with out fear or her body rebelling. To not be a burden, to be useful. And she had been. She had ended a war and saved the lives of the entire world. And yet, though she no longer felt as if she was a disappointment, she felt as if she was a monster.

She had abandoned her family, the people who had been nothing but proud, to wallow in self-pity, when she had gotten everything, she had ever wanted, or almost.

She had wanted to be loved and seen, and the whole of Prythian had seen her that day. Had started to worship her even.

Love though? She had received bounds of it from her sisters, even if it was veiled behind their poverty, and their struggles. They had showered her in it as she had them, even if not openly she had always felt it.

And now she felt it more so than ever, it was thrumming in her chest, pulling her to where the mountains meet the stars.

But she feared what she would do, she couldn’t control it, she had hurt him. She had hurt him.

The words played on repeat in her mind.

After everything he had told her, of his story, his youth. She had done the very thing; his half-brothers had done to him.

Though she had done it without malice, without thought. It was an accident, and Azriel didn’t hate her for it.

But she hated herself.

And hated that she couldn’t rely on his, on her family’s love, in order to love herself.

If there was one thing Daphen remembered about herself before her family was poor, was the desire to travel the world.

Her mother had long told her of her tales of traveling the continent, of even visiting fae courts. How she had danced with a fae prince who had won her hurt but had forced her to leave shortly after.

It was all she thought of when she was younger. Of what the world looked like, what it would show her, and the love she might find within it.

Of course, for a small child of four or five, this was very little. The world to her was an unimaginable thing. She had never seen the see or what the world outside their family’s estate looked like. And even when she grew up, she rarely saw outside of their small village.

She had still never seen the see, felt the brush of waves against her ankles, or the annoying caw of seagulls circling her as she feasted on her food.

She had never seen the courts her mother spoke of the cities of the mortal realm.

But now she decided she would. Even if she would spend a day doing each, she wanted to travel, to something for herself.

She felt as if her whole life, she had only ever acted to please. To do things that made her sister happy, whether it was find seeds for elain, sewing her sisters clothes, helping Feyre make her traps, or skin her kills. She had always helped, doing whatever they asked when she could, just to hear them say thank you. Just to feel less of a burden.

She had done it so much that she had started to burden them even more. Working herself to the core, getting sicker every year until it killed you, literally.

And though a part of her still whished to return, a part of her nagged at her that her family must be worried, and she so desperately didn’t wish for them to be, that she had to force herself to think of only herself.

And so, she found herself traveling to Gallia. The mortal kingdom her mother hailed from.

It was strange to her that she knew so much about her mother, when her sisters did not. That she only had happy memories of her and they only negative.

And yet she found herself not caring as she walked to the beaches along the shores of the continent.

She had travelled across the entirety of the mortal realms, seen cities and libraries and experienced human life for the first time, even though she was now fae.

But she had savoured the beach till last. Until she felt ready to go back to Velaris and to make it her home.

Peace settled upon her, as the see kissed at her ankles, and sand covered her feet.

She felt peace here, with the sun on her back. Her magic flared within her, and though she still feared it, the calm of the beach and soft sounds of waves crashing into rocks soothed the magic that bubbled with in her.

The sun had never stopped dancing around her fingers or lingering in the dark. The sun always seemed brighter wherever she went, and a warm always filled her chest.

It was comforting, though she dared not admit it. as the fear of what she could still do lingered with in her.

But for once she allowed herself not to think about the future, simply focused on the want to leave and find home.

So for the first time in a year, she found herself responding to the bond.

she just hoped to much hadn’t changed since she left.

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[andhumanslovedstories]

you think often of how nurses should speak and relate to patients, and i highly appreciate knowing you put this kind of thought in and share it with other nurses. but as someone who often occupies the patient position, i'm curious if you have any thoughts on ways for patients to interact with nurses, when we are in decent enough control of our faculties to make choices about that. i would like this knowledge from both an altruistic perspective in recognizing nursing is difficult and not wanting to voluntarily make it difficulter, and a wholly self interested position of knowing nurses who like interacting with me give better care. what helps as a professional and as a person?

I'm surprised how much I had to think about this question. What do I want patients to do? I don't know. A lot of it is basic human decency, some of it is specific to my nursing workflow, but overall I find it complicated saying what patients "should" do. I cut out about 500 words of navel gazing from this post explaining why. Here are answers I've come up, in no order and not of equal importance.

--a lot of it is basic "polite interaction with another person in a professional setting." If you're asking this question, you probably care about treating people well in general. If you wouldn't say it to a barista, would you say it to your nursing tech?

--don't do joke answers to basic orientation questions like "what's your name" and "where are you right now", because it's annoying to have to clarify if you're actually confused or if you're fucking with me. I know they're annoying. Just answer correctly so we can move on.

--have some flexibility and patience. Hospitals have a lot of moving parts, and each person interacting with you has other patients that also need care. My hospital and state has mandated nursing ratios. The maximum amount of patients I've had in one assignment is five. Other hospitals have far less protection, and nurses may have six, eight, twelve other patients. Our respiratory therapists each cover multiple units. One CNA might cover the entire floor. I know if melatonin is the difference between you sleeping or not sleeping, it is very frustrating for someone to bring it late. I just ask you keep in mind that there's dozens of reasons that might happen besides someone ignoring you.

--help us help you. If you can lift your arm up for me to put a blood pressure cuff on, why are you holding your arm completely limp so it's like putting pants on a toddler than doesn't want to get dressed? If you can help roll yourself in bed, help us roll you. If your IV is beeping, hit the call light so someone can come turn it off. If you don't have urgency issues and you can tell you're going to need to go to the bathroom soon, call before it's an emergency. If your IV hurts when I give you medication at 8 pm, tell me then, not when I'm trying to give you your midnight antibiotic and all the evening staff have already gone home.

--if you don't understand how something works in the hospital (what happens when you hit the call light, how often are people going to take your vital signs, why can't I get up and walk around the room), just ask. It's really easy for people who work in a hospital every day to forget other people aren't familiar with it.

--don't treat doctors noticeably better than you treat everyone else.

--pet peeve number one: if I give you pills in a med cup, you can just use the med cup to get the pills to your mouth. You don't need to pour the pills into the palm of your hand and then pop them into your mouth. You're gonna drop the pills, and I'm gonna end up on the floor looking for a tiny tablet of dilaudid.

--bundle requests, especially low-importance ones. If you ask for crackers and you know crackers make you thirsty, just request your drink at the same time. Don't make me walk to your room, the nutrition room, and your room again ten minutes later.

--I don't expect people in the hospital to be pleasant all the time, and I don't take snappiness personally, but I always really appreciate the patients who apologize or even just acknowledge their behavior.

--I love patients who acknowledge my work. I don't need effusive praise or a thousand thank yous. It means a lot for someone to just be like "hey, thanks for your help tonight."

--have patience with repeating yourself. If you've got something important and complicated to convey, practice a quick understandable blurb that takes no brain power from you. There may be something that you've told the staff a dozen times, and it may be documented in your chart, but in the hospital you see many people who have never worked with you before and for whatever reason didn't read that info in your chart. For example, I'm a float pool nurse which means I almost never see the same patients twice. I can get sent to a different unit and a different patient load at literally any time. I can't familiarize myself with complicated documentation or read every nursing note. Especially not for patients I know I will only have for four hours. I know repeating yourself is annoying, I know it sucks to have to explain your bathroom routine or your preferred pain med or when you like to get pills or whatever every shift. And it's great when people make that information very easy to find! But if you just accept the reality you'll be repeating yourself a lot anyway, it makes doing so less frustrating.

--pet peeve number two: don't exaggerate to make a point. This is such a human thing to do, and god knows I catch myself doing it all the time, but you can raise objections in a way that's factually true. I've got a lot of concrete data that people are very often wrong when they say they're been "waiting for hours" after hitting a call light. The computer has a time stamp of the last time I was in your room. I know it was 45 minutes ago. There's a timer by the call light. I know you called twenty minutes ago. And I know it feels much longer when you are waiting for basic cares or pain control or anything pressing. Things can be unacceptable without needing to be exaggerated. When the exaggeration is the base of your complaint, it undercuts your credibility. Honestly I find it really irritating when I spend a disproportionate amount of my shift with one patient only for that patient to tell another staff member that I've been neglecting them. Just say I did a bad job, don't pretend I wasn't there at all.

--don't ask me to pull my mask down so you can see my face. like cmon dude.

--I'm not saying you have to send all your visitors out of the room when I'm there, I'm just saying have some sympathy for how nerve-wracking it can be to do your job while being intensely watched by five other deeply invested people with limited context for your actions.

--this is a nebulous and difficult one. You might have a lot of emotion that you don't know what to do with. What you shouldn't do with it is channel it into every interaction you have with a healthcare worker. If you feel guilty about how you haven't visited your mother in a while and now she's in the hospital, you gotta find ways to deal that don't involve getting extremely passive aggressive at your mother's night nurse.

[fernpetals]

Precious

An extension of THIS ask

More of Yandere John Wick and his dollification-kink

Warning: Stalking, manipulation, hints of infantilization, implied restraining, implied age-gap, NSFW, John is soft but dark, tracking,dollification(obviously), a hint of corruption kink

Credit to the GIF owner.

Unedited Piece.

I kind of lost myself with this one. Note that the reader does not understand Russian in this one. So if any of my readers do, I apologise.

Precious. That is what you are to John. He sees you as precious and fragile. Especially if you are a civilian working a regular job. That is the most unfortunate of circumstances for you. Canon John is protective as such. Imagine yandere John—he is paranoid that something or someone is going to hurt you. There is a tracker somewhere in your car, and you are never going to find out. And your phone? He has the right connections—people who have your phone bugged for him.

And most probably, all this happens even before he is ‘officially’ your boyfriend. In his eyes, the proposal is simply a formality, just so that you don’t freak out. 

Once in a relationship, it all turns worse. You don't want to move in with him so soon? It has been a month! His patience is now running thin. This might even be the cause of your first major disagreement or serious fight. If you choose to ignore him after that, even for a day, you are only making it worse for you. Suddenly, your home is broken in, thrashed or suddenly, you are locked out of your own home. The lock just wouldn’t open and it’s late at night. But either way, you don’t need to fear, John is just a call away. Or just happens to have been on his way to your place, to apologise, of course.

Sadly, this is just the beginning of manipulation and gaslighting.

Once he has you under his roof, there is no going back. Isn’t it strange? Some of your bathing and beauty products are already lined up in his bathroom cabinet.

 “I bought them just in case you decided to stay for weekends. I was thinking of inviting you over.”

It is reasonable but you can see through it. Anyone can—he is trying to ease you into living with him. It’s harmless in your eyes, only if you knew how far he has gone and is willing to go.

John loves it when you put on pretty dresses—your closet is slowly filled with more and more of them. Either it is a dress he has delivered to you, or left on your bed, or he simply appears with a random dress in a bag. 

“Thought it would look lovely on you.” 

It is incredible how he gets the measurement right, even before you both get intimate. It’s like his hands have a mind of their own, mapping your form even through simple touches.

The truth is, you are all in his mind, every touch, every trace is imprinted in John’s mind. It takes him incredible self-control to not have his hands all over you. His throat dries up when he gets to touch you, even if it seems innocent, a squeeze on your shoulder, holding your hand

Expect random trips to a boutique of his choice, he makes you try on as many dresses as you want, and he wants and every time you give him a twirl, he has to remind himself that you both are in public. If he likes a dress a little too much, he will invite you to his lap.

“Aren’t you a pretty doll?” His eyes have the darkness that unsettles you, just for a moment, before you shake it off

John is a gentleman, a true gentleman. A catch really—that is what you firmly believe. At least until you move in with him and the mask begins to fall. 

Suddenly, you realise that you barely have time for yourself, your closet is filled with the dresses he likes the most and you never go out with your friends as often. In fact, it has been a while since you have gone out. You are always rushing home after work because John prefers that you do not stay out till late. When was the last time you had a night out with your friends?

But by the time you come to realise all this, it is too late, you are so deep in his lair, entangled in his web. It is not easy to keep a sane mind with the amount of times his head is buried between your legs, or his fingers or both. And let’s not talk about what a silly mess his manhood thrusting in and out of your slick folds makes you. 

Like Donaka, John too has a corruption kink. You do not know how cruel the world is, you are a precious angel in this hell on earth. He wants to protect you, he will protect you and take care of you, regardless of what you want but he also gets off at your surprised expression when he bends you to a new position while your pleasure-drunk eyes look up at him. Only he will get to see that, of course. 

What would you do without him? You are going to work? He is dropping you, soon, you will see that you do not need to work at all. He is your protector and provider. You genuinely enjoy it? Well, you can continue what you do as a hobby, what is the need to take the pains of going to work every day?

John does not understand that. As I mentioned before, he sees you as something precious and fragile, a sweet doll that belongs to a safe, cosy, soft dollhouse. He makes sure that you have enough sleep, and enough nutrients and that you do not engage in any ‘dangerous’ activity. You do not need to cook, he will happily do that. If you insist on helping, he will let you mix things up, and even stir maybe, but you are staying away from hot oils and knives.

John is also the type who loves to kiss you on the cheeks for some reason, his lips softly touching your skin has a familiar warmth enveloping his heart. Even during intimate moments, he kisses you all over, like his lips tracing your body.

It is perhaps during the passionate, intimate moments that you get to see a glimpse of carefully concealed darkness. The sweet nothings make you blush. he says things in Russian that you have no idea of-

“You are meant to be fucked stupid and sleep soft and cosy in this bedroom, aren’t you? Why even bother stepping out? I have everything here for you.”

“Aren’t you pretty like this? My precious doll, all dressed up for me.”

“You were mine since the day I laid eyes on you.”

“Should keep you here all the time, huh? It’s too dangerous outside.”

“You need me, don’t you?”

“You are mine, aren’t you? All you need is me.”

“I could have just taken you, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything…”

If you do manage to put the dots and confront him someday, he will try to manipulate you and if that doesn’t work and you still want to leave…Good luck. Besides, he will have a good laugh watching you trying to fight him. Might even be condescending and mean about it.

[ghostgirl-22]

i like the idea of patrick giving art hickeys. art lies to the other guys on the team, says they’re from various girls but everyone knows the truth. maybe patrick even tells them when art isn’t around

I like that idea too actually, thank you for sharing anon<33

(Whoa im not even gonna edit this…good luck everyone!)

CW: 18+ !NSFW! The S/m part of bdsm, if you squint

—-

Art bruises easily. It really shouldn’t be something that turns Patrick on…but it is. He bruises so, so easy. Every time Patrick thinks about it, his dick gets a little hard. Fingerprints on his waist, bite marks his shoulders, hickeys on his throat. He’s not sure if Art really believes him anymore when Patrick says he’s not doing it on purpose.

God.

It’s so fucked up but he barely has to do anything, barely has to bite, barely has to squeeze and little pink-purple marks bloom vividly everywhere. The bruises don’t even stick around, they’re fading almost as easy as they come. Turning pale pink as the blood beneath them disappates before they turn white and disappear. But when they’re there, when they’re fresh, it’s so fucking delicious.

Especially because Art is so goody goody, so strait laced, so careful and controlled and put together. Patrick kinda loves just unraveling him. Sex so good that it makes him forget how to behave himself. Forget they’re doing it in public, forget his grandma is down the hall, forget all decorum. Mostly he forgets to make Patrick stop sucking visible evidence that he’s not a perfect angel into his skin.

Sometimes it’s so obvious… like the other day in class when their English professor noticed “fun night last night?” And then his ex girlfriend noticed. She scrunched her nose up irritated. Patrick can’t help it, he was giddy watching Art try to hide it the rest of the day. Skin all flushed, anxious that everyone was aware of what he’s been up to.

He gets so anxious for it, tells Patrick he’ll mark him back if he doesn’t stop. Patrick promises he will. But it’s not his fault…Art is just so fragile. Especially when he’s… pressed up against the wall taking Patrick’s cock because he couldn’t wait for the bed. Or when he’s on his knees in the back of the movie theater swallowing as much as he can while Patrick’s running his popcornbutter covered fingers through golden blond curls. Patrick doesn’t even mean to mark him. Not really. He just kinda wants everyone to know that this is his.

Patrick’s favorite thing is when their teammates tease Art about it.

It’s one of the last nights of an away tournament and most of the varsity team has gathered in Everett Moore and Lindsay Jefferson's hotel room, because Lindsay happens to be number one singles player and team captain (and he also happens to come from the richest family on campus. One doesn’t necessarily have to do with the other but Patrick knows he’s technically a better player. Hell, Art might even be better but that’s neither here nor there). When they meet up, someone usually sneaks in alcohol or weed and they watch movies or play music, while shooting the shit and discussing previous and upcoming matches and opponents.

They’re all spread out across the room, on the floor, on the beds. The tv is on with the volume low, red solo cups all over the place and two bottles of rum and three two liters of Pepsi are on the dresser. Along with three nearly empty boxes of pizza and a stack of unused paper plates.

As a team they often pick on each other, it’s not just Art. But Patrick’s favorite is when the attention shifts to Art because he gets even more interesting than he already is.

“Donaldson, that one looks fresh?” It’s Scott Jefferson, Lindsay's little (by 10 months) brother, normally everyone blows him off because he’s the youngest on the team. But Lindsay is amused.

“It does look like a new one, who’s been kissing you?” He chimes in.

Art waves it off. “Uh it’s not that new… you just couldn’t see it under the um… my uniform.” He lies. Because it is new, brand, brand new. Patrick did it last night when Art crawled into his bed because the air conditioner wasn’t working and it was too hot. Then it got hotter. They had to take a cold shower after. Art was all pouty when he noticed it in the morning.

“This one is fading, time for a new one,” Alex Kim, who’s right next to Art on the floor, touches at what Patrick knows is a sensitive spot. Art squirms and shifts his shoulder up towards his ear. Alex bites down on a smile and scoots closer to him.

”I thought Shannon broke up with you,” Everett points out, from his spot next to Patrick on the bed.

“She did, I’m— I’m seeing another girl. She’s—“Art gestures vaguely. “She doesn’t go to MRTA.”

“Where does she go?” Someone else asks.

“Yeah who’s this mystery girl, she’s a bit of a freak isn’t she? Marking you up,” Patrick chimes in, grabbing another slice of pizza and then settling back on his spot on the bed.

Art glares at him and then rolls his eyes. “Piney Brook, the all girls school.” He says and he takes another drink.

“What’s her name? One of us might know her,” Alex asks. He’s trying to poke at the hickey and Art shrugs him away. Patrick knows Alex is one of a handful of their teammates who would fuck Art if he got the chance. And maybe it’s because Patrick’s jealous, maybe it’s because he’s a little possessive (he can’t stop leaving little marks all over Art after all) but he told Alex about it, Alex and his doubles partner and roommate, Corey. Corey who cant keep his big fucking mouth shut to save his life. So everyone already fucking knows. But they love to tease Art anyway. See if he’ll admit it.

“She’s- she’s new, I doubt any of you losers would know her,” Art continues to lie.

“Is she here now? Or did you cheat on her?” Callum Harrington pipes up. “Cause that definitely wasn’t there yesterday.”

“He’s a fucking cheat,” Alex teases and Corey snorts a laugh.

“I didn’t cheat,” Art’s cheeks are pinkening, god, Patrick can feel himself getting hard, he’s gonna give him another one. “What about you, Harrington? You had a big one a few weeks ago.” Art says, deflecting.

“When my girl does it, she lets me borrow her make up to hide it. But mostly it’s me sucking hickies on her neck,” Callum says.

“Please, look how pale he is, he probably gets kissed and then it’s turning red,” Everett points out.

“Or poked,” Alex teases, nudging him. Art hiccups, nudging him back playfully before he takes another drink, determinedly not looking in Patrick’s direction.

“You want another hickey, Donaldson? I could give you plenty.” The openly gay kid Jesse Newman asks.

That makes a couple of them laugh and Jesse smirks in Patrick’s direction.

“Guys, come on,” Art says, uncrossing his legs. “Can we talk about something else, I don’t want to um… she’s really private.”

“Private but she’s claimed you publicly,” Lindsay smirks.

“I just… I do bruise a lot. Wait um— you mean this right?” He touches the hickey. “I actually just slept bad that’s nothing.”

“Oh I bet you sleep bad a lot,” Jesse says.

“I do kinda,” Art says, shyly.

“Does he, Zweig?” Lindsay asks.

“Oh absolutely,” Patrick smirks and a few of the guys chuckle.

Art is clearly relieved when the topic shifts away from hickies to Jesse’s birthday party. He’s still flushed for the alcohol, drinks way too much and lets Alex massage a cramp in his calf. All while making these soft little relieved moaning sounds that no one else probably notices but are driving Patrick crazy. Sounds Alex will probably run home and masturbate to. And he wonders why Patrick needs to mark him. He probably thinks Patrick’s not paying attention because he’s talking a lot but he’s always paying attention to Art.

It’s when someone inevitably rents a porno off HBO and Lindsay and Everett get pissed because they’ll likely be in trouble with the coaches, is when the party ends. And Patrick’s guiding Art back to their room, Art is silly drunk and horny. Doesn’t even pretend to get in his own bed. Just climbs in with Patrick. And he sighs contentedly, his body all sticky wet with lube and come as Patrick licks and nibbles at his throat, a new one already blooming.

[elcor-thespian]

YES I get to talk about my character's names.

Nephele Mercar (my canon Rook): So I unintentionally made protagonists for the first three games that I strongly associate with an element. My Warden, Ilayna, is a fire mage, my Hawke is very Water sign coded and loves the sea, and my Inquisitor, Terrwyn, is Dalish and very connected to the earth. Once I realized that (Maybe like 6 months ago?) I knew I had to make my protagonist for this game Air themed. So I picked a name before I knew anything about the game, and I can't believe that we have a companion named Neve, which sounds so similar to Neph. I also named my Hawke Seraphina and then when DAI came out....I'm just saying if I had a nickel for every time DA introduced a companion with a name that sounded like a shortened version of my character's name, I'd have 2 nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

Nephele means "cloud" and in Greek mythology she was a nymph made from a cloud and was the mother of the centaurs, and is also connected to the Golden Fleece.

Names for my other DATV characters under the cut:

Nasreen "Raven" Aldwir: Each of my characters has a different bird code name given to them by Varric. They are all present at the Lighthouse, but Nephele is the protagonist.

Nasreen is a Persian name that means "wild rose". I really wanted something with a nature connection, and something that maybe hinted at something a little darker/edgier. I also just love this name and I think it's pretty.

Aleksei "Magpie" Laidir: means "protector of man". I gotta be honest, I don't remember why I chose this. I often have a harder time choosing male names. I also didn't have the firmest grasp on who his character was going to be at the time. If I were to name him now I probably wouldn't pick this, but now I'm very attached to it and I feel like it fits him perfectly (Although again, it's close to Elek and IF I HAD A NICKEL)

Brenna "Kestrel" Thorne: Brenna is a name I've liked for a while and wanted to use, and for a bit it was going to be my dwarf character's name. Depending on where you look, it might mean "high hill", "princess", "strength", "dark hair" or "burn". I feel like if you mixed all these ideas in to a soup, you would come out with my character.

Elspeth "Crow" de Riva: This was the DATV OC that I named last. Elspeth is the Scottish form of Elizabeth and means "chosen by God". Again, I do not remember why I landed on this. It's not Italian or Spanish. I don't think Elspeth is fully Antivan, and she had this name when she got to the orphanage. I think some people just call them "El", since it's easier to say in an Antivan accent. Elspeth is non-binary and they don't love their name because it's pretty feminine, but they also don't have a strong idea of what they would change it to. I kind of like that their name is at odds with the type of person they are.

Konstantin "Wren" Ingellvar: Russian name meaning "constant or everlasting". I wanted something German/Slavic/Russian, and this was the name I liked the best. I also think that the meaning works for him. He's not the biggest fan of his code name, and to be honest neither am I. But I'm in too deep now.

Paloma "Dove": Paloma literally means "dove". Paloma is my ex-Saarebas character, and so they chose their name. There wasn't a ton of thought behind it. She does a lot of people watching, and she heard a mother calling for her daughter, Paloma, in the market one day. She liked the sound of it, and she wanted a name that wouldn't stand out too much in Minrathous and she had no concept of what a normal name would be. She practiced saying it over and over and decided she could live with it.

It’s Monday Morning 👎👎👎🚫🚫

It’s the Rook Introduction Hour ! 🥳🥳🎊🎊🙌

For new people, it works like this: I ask you about your Rook, and if you want you can rb and answer, and then I’ll rb it back here and comment a bit !

I really made you all work last week, so let’s do something easier: What is the significance of your Rook’s (first) name? Who gave it to them— did they pick it themselves? Do they have any nicknames (besides Rook)? Who gave those to them? Do they like their name?

Feel free to answer as much/little as you like!

[poetlus]

LOVIN’ YOU LOUDLY — atsumu, kuroo, bokuto, & tanaka

these four boys love you loudly, no matter where you are or who you’re with. they will always make it a point to let you know that they don’t just love you, they looooove you. // just cooked this one up, might be hot ass but!! oh well heh

MIYA ATSUMU . . .

atsumu is always alllll over you.

he’ll always have an arm draped over your shoulder or a hand around your waist

he’s not much of a texter, as he’d much prefer to see you in person, he’ll text you constant “i miss you’s” though.

super duper affectionate, especially when he’s tired.

in public, he’s always right behind you, checking for any danger.

sometimes, hes almost too much. you can count on both hands how many times you had to call him off of a poor stranger who happened to be looking in your direction.

he hates when people make noise when he’s doing a killer serve, but you’re the only one he tolerates. when he hears an “i love you, tsumu!” from a familiar voice in the crowd, he concentration is almost doubled.

most of the school knows to be quiet, so when people in the crowd are angry with you, he shoots them a sharp glare.

after games, he searches for you in the stands and blows a cocky kiss, an act you’ve grown to love.

overall, you’re atsumu’s pride and joy, his number one supporter.

TETSURO KUROO . . .

tetsuro is less clingy than most, but when he’s had an especially bad day, he’s constantly on you.

he’s wrapped around you back or leaning his head on your shoulder, and when you two are cuddling, he’s usually on top, covering you like a weighted blanket.

his texts are short and sweet, something like “have a good day ❤️” or “thinking about you!”

not to mention, you’re cool with all of his friends, which he loves. that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get jealous, though.

when you’re talking to kenma a tad too much about his video game, or when lev seems a bit too excited to tell you his progress in volleyball, he sends a killer glare their way.

not that it scares anyone, though. in reality, he’s really just making a stupid face.

kuroo is amazing to you, too. he’s the type of guy to buy you something even if you briefly mention it.

“hey, remember that xyz you said was cute a while back? i got it for you, just because.”

expect random dinner dates, too! fanciness ranges from super ultra mega fancy, to cafe down the street fancy.

kuroo is also big on hand kisses!! when he greets you, when he’s leaving, throughout the day. he just loves the romantic energy of it. grabbing your hand oh so tenderly to plant a soft kiss on it. bonus points if someone’s watching.

KOTARO BOKUTO . . .

with bokuto’s loud personality, comes his loud love for you.

every time he score’s a point in his games, he says “That’s for Y/N!!”

akaashi is starting to get tired of it…

when he loses his games, he’s so upset. he immediately runs to you for support. He puts his full weight on you, leaning against you as you rub his back.

like a puppy, bokuto is at your heel with a big happy smile plastered on his face

he texts you constantly, always informing you of new drama within the team or just random updates about his day. he often includes pictures! his favorite ones are the 0.5’s he takes of akaashi.

he looves when you send pictures back! he makes them widgets on his phone, and when he takes pictures of you, he puts them as his lockscreen and/or homescreen

he has a picture of you sleeping that you think is…rather unflattering. but he always says its his favorite picture and that you look so peaceful!!

along with the pictures he takes, he posts you all the time! he has a “daily y/n post” as he calls it.

RYUNOSUKE TANAKA . . .

oh boy, where do we even begin??

tanaka is the loudest of the bunch.

he’s always huffing and puffing when he’s not near you. when he is, he’s all smiles.

he treats you like a god/goddess. like he LITERALLY worships you.

hes loves to show off, but when you’re around, it’s a million times worse (or better? who’s to say?)

he takes his shirt off and swings it around way more when you’re around LMAOO

like atsumu, he’s constantly looking out for creeps and weirdos, or even fans. even when you reassure him you don’t have fans, he doesn’t understand.

“no, i refuse to believe you don’t have a group of fans. look at you! you’re amazing!”

he absolutely loves to show you off, you give him a sort of confidence boost. he’s so proud to have you at his side, and he makes that known.

when you’re cheering him on from the stands, his gameplay goes from 100% to 150%. before you, he was always talking about how awesome it would be to have a hottie cheering for him and how it would make him much better of a player, and he was right!

[theus-what-are-you-doing]

Final Scene Analysis and Key Sender Theory

A theory below? It might be obvious, but I'm being a dumbass and connecting dots that might not be there. That and I'm trying to wrap my head around the plot of season one while making predictions for season two too.

Words: 768

Okay, I'm not sure if anyone has pointed this out already, but this has been playing on my mind like a catchy song, and I genuinely need to vent it.

Something is telling me that Chase is being used by Buddy, indicated through the interaction shared by him and Violet at the end of season one.

Nox "can't do this" anymore because he's slowly falling for Chase. He's coming to love and care for him, like during the finale arc e.g. shielding him from water, comforting him during his breakdown, kissing him to be his hero.

He doesn't want to hurt the ones he loves, especially knowing how much Chase is trying to help others around him, specifically his own mum. See below:

Now, I think Nox is intelligent enough to put things together. So, I think these lines spoken towards him during Chase's breakdown could have made things click for him: Why Chase was sooooo determined in the beginning of the series to go into the book's for example, despite how irritating and upsetting Nox tried to be.

Given Nox is more familiar with Chase's personality now, it would only make sense for him to use the wish for someone else he cares about, hence Nox's hesitation to continue stealing the naratonin. As Nox cares more for Chase, he may come to want what Chase wants too, like a couple would.

But what's to says he's stealing it?

Well, we know Nox is a key now, and by all means, I don't think he can gather Naratonin by himself as it's established other keys can't. Though he was priorly human, I think he lost the ability to gather Naratonin when he became a key.

Considering we've been shown no other key holders, I don't believe any of them are left too, that there are any humans to help collect this naratonin. I really think it's just the keys.

Yet we've been shown that keys can use naratonin and that Buddy plans to use it to get a wish. But instead of wishing like a birthday wish where you whisper your secrets to the naratonine, I think you need to consume or absorb it, much like Silver did earlier in the series.

Here, it's shown that Silver fixes herself using the Naratonin Chase collected, so who's to say that Buddy isn't either. He just needs more because the thing he is trying to fix is his human self, to regain it.

Now i think that staying close to Chase is just a way to transfer his production of Naratonin to him and Violet, as they're also keys, or that Chase's production of Naratonin also goes over to them. It would explain why Chase gets so little every time and why Buddy wants to be close to him so often.

Keysender Theory

And so here's where my theory comes in. Let's focus on that second panel again!

"After all you've done for this"

I can't help but get a feeling that Nox was the one who sent the other keys out, or at least orchestrated getting them out with someone else acting as a proxy. It would explain why he's done so much work for this, to become human.

If my theory is correct and Libris holds no current key holders, the only way for Buddy to get Naratonin would be to get the keys into the hands of other humans, follow them into the books, and retrieve naratonin from being near them, so he can heal himself much like Silver did but to a larger scale. This is what we see happening with Chase after all.

Yhe keys have been scattered too, perhaps to not only heighten the chances of getting more people into the books but to also prevent them from gathering all the keys to make that wish (Like Silver admitted to Chase, you need all her family to make the wish)

Future predictions

With this in mind and my rambling over, I'd like to throw my hat in the ring for things I'd love to see from this analysis and theory, if they ever became true.

I'd love to see Buddy be confronted for this, perhaps out of guilt he would tell Chase he's been stealing narratonin and thus Chase obviously gets upset, as he's trying to collect if for his mum. I feel like this can be a way for them to share their wants for each other and even help each other with getting their way.

Anyway, that's all my rambles done. I hope they made at least a semblance of sense!!

[crispycoffeestudent]

'there are more good ones out here than you think' imagine being a radfem, calling yourself a radfem and saying that to another woman. the fact of the matter is - theonceandfutureharpy is right. there's simply not enough 'good men' or 'good ones' for every radfem interested in, or currently in relationships. not enough for all of them to be right. and to copy and paste something i sent to a friend a day ago 'if you're going to date men, you truly need to be able to leave at first sign of trouble however minor that red flag might be but no one who's genuinely in love with someone else will be able to do that. you will at the end of the day once attached, attempt to make excuses for seemingly minor and trivial red flags that all point to a larger problem with the man himself, and even if even if he doesn't turn out to be the societal image of an abuser, he can and often is still abusive. i feel like some women truly believe that the patriarchy is abstract only when it comes to their relationship with men and underestimate how much THEY themselves are affected by it. I feel bad for radfems who date men because ... how much of your time will be spent vetting, how often can you afford to be on the look out, how likely are you to upend an entire relationship of idk however many long years when the cracks finally start to show? how likely are you, when deeply in love w someone, able to leave immediately, no hesitation, when he starts gently wheedling you into sex? for that to be possible, there are limits to how deep your connection w him can be, and i think on some level, they realize this.' and to copy what she said 'Everybody thinks they can leave an abuser, but everybody's just thinking of an abuser. Nobody's thinking of who the abuser is, the role they play in their life, and how they feel about the abuser. And dependence is never accounted for, either. What happens when he has successfully isolated you? Either by turning you against people or by turning people against you. Who are you going to call, who are you going to stay with. What happens when he gets you fired from your job? Now you're financially dependent on him, too, because you have nobody else to go to. How people can get in so deep and still believe they have the upper hand will never cease to amaze me.' being in relationships with men is dangerous and puts you in direct risk of male violence. i don't see how you can acknowledge that men commit 90 percent of violent crime, that anywhere from 27-57 percent of men have perpetuated sexual violence against women (self reported btw), that a study in the 90s found that all male and female relationships it studied was abusive at some level (Graham, Foliano) and witness the rise of pornography, and the sheer number of men addicted to that stuff where sexual violence is in the sexual script of porn itself, willing to defend it with their life, and have the audacity and the fucking NERVE to say that there are more good ones that we think. date the men you like but don't come into radical feminist spaces and LIE to us or derail the conversation when we're talking about how men are the oppressors. It's not luck to find a man genuinely devoid of misogyny or willing always to take accountability and catch himself and call the men around him out when he or they are being misogynistic. It's the fucking lottery. And sorry to say but most of y'alls Jakeys are simply not Like That.

Getting into a straight healthy relationship with a man IS a part of radfem agenda, believe it or not. It means you actually expect the world to listen to your values and ideas and change accordingly. It means those of us who are not gay or bisexual will struggle less, and will be in less danger when seeking companionship. If you prefer separation or black pill it's fine, but it simply cannot apply to everyone - unlike the radical feminist beliefs against sexism.

🦥

[77zrose]

ZB1 REALISING THEY FELL FOR THEIR BESTFRIEND

genre : ot9, fluff “ 🧺 .*

김지웅 kim jiwoong

Jiwoong would notice his feelings quietly, during a moment when you’re laughing or doing something mundane. He’d feel a pang in his chest and think, Why does this feel so different now? Jiwoong is someone who values control over his emotions, so he’d likely try to keep things normal.

Over time, his actions would subtly shift. He’d linger a bit too long after walking you home, or his texts would become more thoughtful. One evening, as you both sit on a park bench under the stars, he’d finally let his feelings slip.

Jiwoong: “You know, being with you makes everything feel… easier. Happier. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I… I think I’ve fallen for you. I don’t want to risk ruining what we have, but I can’t pretend anymore.”

성한빈 sung hanbin

Hanbin’s first instinct upon realizing his feelings would be panic. He’d smile through the confusion, but internally he’d be thinking, This can’t be happening. What if I ruin our friendship? He’d probably talk to someone he trusts to figure out what to do, all while being extra attentive toward you.

One evening, after you’ve spent the day together laughing and sharing stories, he’d muster the courage to bring it up.

Hanbin: “I’ve been meaning to tell you something… I think I’ve started seeing you differently lately. I’m not sure when it happened, but… I think I’ve fallen for you. I care about you so much, and I just hope you can feel the same.”

장하오 zhanghao

Zhanghao’s realization would hit him during a quiet moment—like when you’re both reading or working on something together. He’d glance at you and suddenly feel his heart race. His first thought would be, Oh no… this is dangerous.

Zhanghao isn’t one to bottle things up for too long. After spending a week analyzing his feelings, he’d decide to confess in a straightforward but warm way. Over coffee, he’d break the silence.

Zhanghao: “I need to tell you something, and I want you to know I’ve thought about it carefully. I think I’ve fallen for you. I know this changes everything, but you’re too important for me to not be honest.”

석매튜 seok matthew

Matthew would be adorably clumsy about the whole situation. When he first realizes he has feelings for you, he’d start stammering or avoiding eye contact whenever you’re around. He’d try to act normal, but his little gestures—like remembering your favorite drink or texting you late at night—would give him away.

Eventually, he wouldn’t be able to hold it in. During a casual hangout, he’d blurt it out unexpectedly.

Matthew: “Okay, I can’t keep this in anymore! I like you. Like, really like you. You’re my best friend, and I know this might sound crazy, but I don’t think I can keep pretending I don’t feel this way.”

김태래 kim taerae

Taerae’s feelings would sneak up on him gradually. He’d notice how much happier he feels when you’re around, how your smile stays in his mind long after you’ve left. Being the artistic and emotional person he is, he’d likely channel his emotions into music first.

One day, he’d ask you to listen to a song he wrote. As the melody fills the air, the lyrics would describe his feelings—how he fell for his best friend and is scared but hopeful. When the song ends, he’d look at you nervously.

Taerae: “I’ve been writing this for a while because I didn’t know how else to tell you… I like you. More than just a friend.”

리키 ricky

Ricky would try to act like nothing’s changed, but his behavior would say otherwise. He’d tease you more often, throwing playful comments your way to hide his nervousness. Behind the scenes, he’d overthink every interaction, wondering if you feel the same.

Eventually, his confident exterior would crack, and he’d decide to tell you in his own charming way. During a late-night walk, he’d turn to you with a soft smile.

Ricky: “You know, you’re the only person who can make me nervous. I realized it’s because I’ve started liking you—more than a friend should. I don’t know how you feel, but I had to tell you.”

김규빈 kim gyuvin

Gyuvin would be hilariously awkward about his feelings. He’d start stumbling over his words around you, his ears turning red whenever you’re near. The other members would tease him relentlessly for how obvious he’s being.

After working up his courage, he’d sit you down one evening and try to explain.

Gyuvin: “Okay, so… this is really hard for me to say, but I like you. Like, really like you. And I know I’m being super awkward, but I just couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

박건욱 park gunwook

Gunwook would be in denial at first, brushing off his feelings as just admiration. But when he catches himself thinking about you constantly, he’d realize it’s more than that. He’d try to impress you subtly—showing off his skills or taking extra care to support you.

Finally, he’d choose a bold but heartfelt moment to confess, like when you’re both watching a sunset together.

Gunwook: “You mean a lot to me. More than just a friend. I don’t know when it happened, but I’ve fallen for you. And I’d do anything to make you happy, whether or not you feel the same.”

한유진 han yujin

Yujin would be the shyest about his feelings. He’d blush whenever you’re around and would try to avoid making it obvious, but his small acts of kindness—like sharing his snacks or sending you cute messages—would give him away.

One day, he’d finally confess in the sweetest, most innocent way. He’d hand you a small gift, like a handwritten letter, and nervously mumble his feelings.

Yujin: “I… I wanted to tell you something. You’re really important to me, and I think… I think I like you. I know this might be sudden, but I hope you understand how much you mean to me.”

[antisocialxconstruct]

So I've seen this post about recognizing AI fiber art pattern scams a few times, and I think it's really valuable, but something I haven't seen mentioned much at all is that sometimes what you're seeing is not actually a 100% Fake Scam, but often a real product that someone made and photographed and then fed through an AI program to get a "better" version of it. Usually it has the same trademark overly crisp details and saturated colors, visually cluttered but nonsensical backgrounds, and smaller details that may seem wrong or mushy, (and especially with amigurumi, the overly glossy or realistic eyes), BUT with the key difference that they may have multiple equally dubious images of the same item from different angles, with a consistency that isn't really possible when you're just letting the LLM do all the work. I suspect that might actually be the case with the hedgehog in the original post:

Or something like this duck I've seen a couple times:

And I admit my kneejerk reaction to something like that is to assume the artist doesn't have any faith in their own product, or doesn't respect me as a customer enough not to lie to me, but I think more realistically, the most common demographics of fiber arts creators just happen to be people who may not have the specific technical knowledge to create good product photos, but know theirs just don't have the It Factor needed to get sales. Take this person, who at least has the integrity to include their raw photos alongside the edited ones:

Discounting any knowledge or bias you might already have against AI art, which of those would you genuinely be more likely to click on in the endless pages of etsy? I understand why they do it even if I don't agree with it.

My point I guess is just like, don't assume that every single AI image you see in a product listing for things like this is an evil scammer whose only objective is to lie to you and steal your money. Sometimes they are, sometimes they're just well meaning people who don't happen to know how to stage, light, and edit photos better than an app on their phone. It's obviously up to every individual to decide where their threshold is when it comes to supporting or forgiving this kind of thing, but 🤷‍♂️ it's just good to have all the details.

[zorilleerrant]

Movies are too distracting for Cass, most of the time – only a handful of actors play their character as if they were their character; the rest are lying. Books, though. Even when they describe someone’s body, they only call them tall or short, thin or fat, hairy or bald. Left alone is the way they hold their body, the way they walk, the way they stand, the way they turn to look at a sudden noise. The most a book will say is the way a character moves their hands when they talk, brushes a hair aside, snaps for attention. She can picture those.

She can picture, in so much detail, every other thing the books say. The crowd is sad, the book tells her, or they hold each other. Cass has seen crowds in mourning. She knows the ways their feet jiggle and their eyes shift from side to side. She knows the way that some seem tense and some seem deflated, and the book doesn’t need to tell her, because it assumes she knows. If it describes someone, she knows that person is important. She knows the way they hold their emotion is part of the story. And she can see it, even between the imprints the author shows her as the narrative unfolds.

The problem, for Cass, is that it makes all the characters too real. She’s imagining them in just this way with their lips pursed and one fist almost clenched. Sometimes, if they seem like someone she knows, she imagines them in this coat or that pair of shoes. Sometimes her own. Sometimes the ones she would love to have if they weren’t so uncomfortable to move in. She tells people things that were never written down, because they just make sense.

Then she closes the book, and everyone is gone.

It’s not that she’s alone. She could find almost anyone and tell them what she read – some would praise her ability, and some discuss the book, and most listen as she described the looks of characters that seemed so much like them. But, still, all the time spent learning all of their lives and loves and longings, and there they are, gone, like their wishing, like her wishing along with them, never meant anything at all.

Cass needs a way for the story to continue after the story. The same way she’s always needed to look in on the people she’s saved and read follow up reports, she needs to know what happens to the characters after. Even if it is all imagination. Her imagination is so full of certainties, someone else’s must be, too, mustn’t it?

She sneaks her computer under the covers. It’s not that it’s a secret, necessarily, but she wishes it would be. Cass often wishes she had the normal touchpoints everyone else grew up with, that someone would scold her for what’s on her screen, that someone else would laugh. That her cheeks would burn hot and her shoulder slump, even though she doesn’t care very much. Still. If she finds nothing, she doesn’t want that disappointment to show. It’s a small disappointment, and they shouldn’t feel anxious about comforting her over it.

As it turns out, it isn’t a disappointment at all. Cass isn’t alone. She almost stops herself from letting out a cheer, and then figures, why not, and thrusts her fist up in the air, shunting the blanket to the side. Settling it back around her, she starts looking. Not at the stories, at first, but all the names. There are other people, here. There are other people talking about this book, these characters, other people who also don’t want them to go away.

She gets distracted following a conversation about clothes, about what each character might wear. They’re all so fascinatingly wrong. None of those thing they’re saying are any of the clothes she imagined… although some of them – some of them – might, she admits, make sense. Under the right conditions.

The stories, though. Cass breathes a sigh of relief. Everyone else wants the story to continue past the story. For the characters to have lives greater than what was planned for them. To be able to turn into who they want to be, and live how they want to live, and wear – well, not that, that’s for certain. Cass looks up how to make an account.

[those2fireboys]

I cut out the parts that made it fit the final criteria so this is just me being autistic abt autistic house.

Autism spectrum disorder is a difficult thing to represent in movies, tv shows, and books because it is a spectrum. Every person is going to experience it differently, so it gets into dodgy territory when it's portrayed in media, especially when it's not canon confirmed. Lots of characters have autistic traits, or “coding,” which means they have behaviors or characteristics that might align with how autism is understood, but the creators may not explicitly confirm the character as being on the spectrum. This coding can be intentional or unintentional, but it often reflects a lack of clear representation or a misunderstanding of the diversity of the autism spectrum. I am going to do a deep dive into one of these, widely accepted “autistic coded” characters, and explain how the show could have benefited from a confirmation of this character's autism.

Gregory House is the main character of the 2004 medical drama House MD. He is often implied to be autistic by both fans and the show itself. But this was 2004, and Dr Gregory House is supposed to be a suave, intelligent doctor. He cant have autism spectrum disorder.. Right?

Well, not exactly.

Dr. James Wilson: I'm going to read you something. "Asperger's syndrome is a mild and rare form of autism. It is typically characterized by difficulty establishing friendships and playing with peers, trouble accepting conventional social rules, and they dislike any change in setting or routine"... or broadloom. Don't say that last part but you get my point.

Dr. Lisa Cuddy: House doesn't have Asperger's. The diagnosis is much simpler. He's a jerk.

Dr. James Wilson: Why do you think he took this case? Because he believes these parents? Because he wants to help a young boy? He sees himself in this kid, and he's trying to help himself... He doesn't want this, he needs it.

Symptoms

Social Challenges

1a. Difficulty with empathy

1b. Blunt honesty

1c. Difficulty maintain relationships

2. Desire for Sameness

2a. See The Carpet™ situation

2b. His office (S8)

2c. Struggles when his interns leave

3. Sensory issues and Difficulty with Emotional Regulation

3a. Chronic pain, increasing with emotional issues

3b. Emotional overload

3c. He drives a car into his ex’s living room

4. Fidgeting / Stimming

4a. The Tennis Ball

4b. Twirling the Cane

4c. The vicodin bottle

1a. House has a very hard time with empathy, and while this could be interpreted as him just being a jerk, it could also be a symptom of autism. People with autism often struggle with empathy and understanding others emotions.

For example, in season 3 episode 9, House says, "It's a good thing you failed to become a mom, because you suck at it!" to Cuddy, in a moment of anger. Later in the episode he apologizes but struggles to understand why she is still upset at the comment after.

1b. House is extremely blunt. Again this can be interrupted as him being rude but it's also a common symptom of autism. House can be seen being extremely blunt with patients often leaving them and his coworkers shocked with his bedside manner.

1c. House has difficulty with vulnerability, often insulting his friends and people close to him when he's frustrated, or straight up ignoring them when he's focused on work, making it difficult to maintain relationships. These failings often lead to conflicts, and eventual breakdowns. However, when these breakdowns happen, usually House makes an (albeit stilted) effort to get these relationships back in order.

Dr Wilson: “I only have two things that worked for me: this job and this stupid, screwed-up friendship and neither mattered enough for you to give one lousy speech”

Dr. House: “They matter.”

2a. In season 3 House gets shot in his office and when he comes back to work the carpet in his office has obviously been replaced, as it was covering blood and stained. He has a meltdown and refuses to work in his office until the old carpet is restored. He says, “It's my office. It's where I work, where I think, where I save lives, I want it back the way it was.” He works in various places throughout the hospital but refuses to work in his office. Eventually the carpet is restored and he goes back to his office.

Autistic people often struggle with change, and need routine to function. Dr House struggles with this desire for sameness.

2b. Another example of Dr House’s desire for sameness is in season 8. House goes to prison and when he returns to the hospital he discovers that his office has been repurposed for another department. As in season 3, he refuses to work in his office until he gets his office back to the way it was. He annoys the other workers in his former office until they agree to leave and give his office back.

2c.  Many times throughout the show employees leave the hospital or work in another department. Whenever this happens House struggles to adjust to the change. For example, in season 4 all of House's fellows quit and he has to hire new ones. First he refuses to hire new doctors and tries to get the original team to come back. He then hired 40 fellows at once to avoid having to make a choice right away. House has to take time to adjust to the change before he can create a new routine.

3a. House has chronic pain due to an injury, he takes vicodin to help with this pain. However it's revealed in many instances throughout the show that the pain is connected to emotional issues. His pain increases when he can't deal with his emotions.

He takes vicodin to numb emotional pain. A lot of autistic individuals struggle to identify and deal with their emotions. Addiction is also common within autistic individuals because they struggle with pain and physical regulation.

3b. House often struggles with overly emotional situations, often leading to a meltdown. For example season 7 episode 15 “Bombshells,” in this episode House’s girlfriend is in the hospital and he avoids going to support her at all costs because he knows it will be a high emotion situation that he wants to avoid. Eventually he takes vicodin and goes to see her which ends up causing their breakup. After the break up House basically loses his mind, taking vicodin, drinking, and hiring prostitutes. In the end he ends up jumping off the balcony of a hotel into the pool.

These episodes really exemplify how much he struggles with sensory issues, specifically regarding his emotions. This is one of the most common symptoms of autism, in fact its part of the diagnostic criteria.

3c. In season 7 episode 23 House drives his car into Cuddy’s living room in a moment of anger. He misses her, he's angry that they broke up, and he's angry that she has moved on from him. He makes this decision in a split second and he clearly can't talk himself down. He can't emotionally regulate himself once it gets past a certain point.

4. I’ll group these three together for ease. One of the most common symptoms of autism and neurodiversity in general is fidgeting and stimming. Stimming is defined as “a self stimulating behavior, usually characterized as repetitive movements, actions, or vocalizations.” These actions aid in self regulation for autistic individuals.

House is often seen pacing, twirling his cane, or his vicodin bottle, and repeatedly throwing a tennis ball against the wall. These actions all reflect stimming behaviors. He focuses more heavily on these actions when he is deep in thought or struggling with an emotional situation, this reflects the self regulatory nature of these actions.

why do people hate the idea of house being autistic like guys... Have we forgotten headcanons, do we hate the joy of expressing yourself through a character... Also there are actual people giving evidence to their suspicion of house having autism why am I seeing autistic house haters on my dash....

[shyamanuensis]

sisters bf!sebastian - headcanon

sisters bf!sebastian who drops by your place unannounced and often grumbles when you tell him your sister isn't home yet. he could leave, but hey - why not watch another movie together like you always tend to. the house is empty; so is the couch; and it's not like anything is ever going to happen between the two of you.

sisters bf!sebastian who never forgets your birthday - even though it isn't something that should necessarily be on his calendar. this year he got you a cd of your favourite band. last year, it was a book that you'd been trying to find forever but was sold out all over town. the year before, your favourite candy bars which you could have sworn were out of production at the time.

sisters bf!sebastian that just so happens to leave the bathroom door ajar when he's showering. he knows you're curious - god damn merlin of course you sneak a peak in every now and again when you wander by. the way his hair when wet sits like an adorable mess; the low rise of the towel he has wrapped around his waist; the freckles and scars on his back that you're a little to eager to get up close and know in a more… intimate way.

the way that sisters bf!sebastian tells you to stay out of trouble and not do anything stupid when you advice your sister that you're heading out on a date. his eyes narrow, his voice becomes huskier, the gaze that washes over you when you greet your date at the door has an uncomfortable weight to it that you try not to read into; but can't help but wonder if there's not a tad inch of jealousy involved.

whenever you're in a tight space - hallway, kitchen, passing through the front door; and meet one another, sisters bf!sebastian does that infuriatingly innocent thing where he rests his hands on your hips and slides straight by you, his chest coming into contact with you every single time which makes your mouth dry. sometimes depending on proximity, his lips will skim across your hair or temple and you swear you hear him chuckle every - single - time, but perhaps you're just going crazy.

sisters bf!sebastian that drops a dirty joke or innuendo your way in conversation that sounds perfectly innocent but you definitely know better. you can't reach something on a shelf - 'need something to get up on?'; when you're trying to fit the dirty dishes in the diswasher but can't because the plate you've got in hand is bigger than the rest of them - 'here, don't worry; it might be larger than the rest but i can make it fit'. things would be totally fine if these lines weren't delivered with that mischievous smirk tugging at his lips or the playful glisten of his coffee coloured eyes you just happen to get lost in.

warmer weather - yeah sisters bf!sebastian is walking around without a shirt on because… well it's just his thing apparently. your sister just loooovesss raking her nails across his chest any chance she gets and you're more than aware of the bruises and hickeys she's left on him as claim that you wouldn't mind if you were the reason behind. when the weathers cooler? he does that attractive boyish thing of half rolling his sleeves before pushing them up. just when you think you've got yourself composed and under control, he'll comb a hand through his hair and watch as you practically melt in front of him.

rest of the boys coming soon xo