#tw impulse control issues

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

Gettin reckless. Impulse control on the floor. Y'all are invited to my wedding as soon as I find a willing candidate.

[knight-engale]

Overestimated how hungry I was... bought more food than I could handle. But if I saved it and put it in the fridge there is a chance (a somewhat slim one, but a chance) that it would be stolen by a sibling. Hopefully I'll at least not be hungry in the morning...

[theduchessofnaxos]

TW: possible disordered eating-ish stuff

Love when I try to search for tips to quit being afraid of eating and get bombarded with lectures about how to quit overeating from stress. I fucking know I'm not overeating but I still *felt* my brain go "they're right, I need to stop eating so much." Brain! We didn't eat dinner! We are actively hungry! But no, thanks to Google reading "tips to stop worrying about eating" as "how to stop stress eating", I am now in MUCH worse shape mentally than I was before. So that's nice. Love trying to find a resource and instead ending up worse off.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hello I'm sorry if I'm bothering you but I had an idea about a hazbin hotel request, so what if everyone at the hotel (except Alastor) consider the reader a big sister who takes shit from no one, like will slap someone without hesitation if they talk bad about any of their friends, especially when Valentino tries something will literally beat him up until he's half dead. (If you're not comfortable with writing this that's completely alright and I wish you a good morning/afternoon or goodnight)

Oh, nonnie, you are never a bother! I love getting new requests, feeds my soul tbh. I love this idea too! As much as I love romantic x readers and NS/FW x readers, I also love me some platonic Hazbin 🤍 good morning/afternoon/evening to you and ENJOY!

Notes: fem!reader, this is kinda short sorry, added Alastor at the end but just a snippet :)

TW: aggression, fighting, swearing

Rough and Tough- Hazbin x platonic!reader

Charlie ❤️‍🔥

Adores your passion and bravery but is often the one to hold you back or stand between you and your foe.

She loves keeping you close tho bc she has a hard time asserting dominance and speaking up for herself and you’re always willing to speak your mind on her behalf. You always help uplift and empower her, she greatly appreciates that.

Charlie also really does see you as a sister. As an only child, she grew up pretty sheltered and lonely, but being with you now is really healing her inner child.

When Charlie is having any kind of issue, she always goes to Vaggie, her darling girlfriend. But, when Charlie feels the need to vent about and get advice on her relationship with Vaggie, she turns to you. When Vaggie is busy and away, Charlie goes to you.

Pretty much every weekend, Charlie invites you and the other girls in the hotel to her room for a sleep over and some fun girly time

You def tagged along with her to the meeting with heaven along with Vaggie and while Vaggie is like “keep a cool head, babe.” You’re literally trying to climb up to where Adam is seated so you can rip that smug smile off his stupid, ignorant, narcissistic face and slap Lute with it.

Vaggie’s just panicking as she tries to keep you and Charlie calm lmao

Vaggie ⚔️

TWO PEAS IN A POD TBH

Vaggie adores you and you are often each other’s impulse control and each others biggest instigators

Vaggie getting pissed that someone is trying to sabotage the hotel and storming up to the traitor with her angelic spear cocked back and ready to kill

Enter big sis pulling her back and trying to talk some sense into her

Also you getting livid when someone talks negatively about Vaggie being a fallen angel, or worse being a former exorcist and being untrustworthy

Bad words and ugly names are pouring from your angry mouth, fists balled up and ready to go, muscles tense in anticipation

Cue Vags hugging you as she pulls you away, whispering that it doesn’t bother her so don’t let it bother you

But it bothers you bc you know it bothers her…she doesn’t deserve that.

As Rosie said, maybe she’s trying to be redeemed too…? Being shit talked is only going to put bad thoughts in her head and you can’t stand to see your family belittled like that

Sometimes, if the situation is just bad enough, you and Vaggie lose it together and no one can stop yall now. It’s honestly just as frightening as when Alastor shows his full demon form, you and Vaggie violently teamed up together like this.

Angry Vaggie + Angry big sis reader = a terrible ending for whoever is at the sharp end of her spear and at the mercy of your fists

Angel Dust 🕸️

Is very intimidated by you at first but grows so fond of you as he gets to know you. He admires your courage so much, he wishes he could be more like you.

He never feels safer than when he’s at the hotel with you near by. He knows that whatever he lacks when up against an opponent, you’ll be there to pick up the slack and watch his back.

Angel doesn’t have many true friends or familial figures in hell, and he misses his own sister so terribly. You fill that empty spot in his heart so perfectly, he wishes you had been around when he was still alive.

You two hang out a lot- his flirty, bubbly, goofy demeanor and your kind, accepting but stubborn attitude makes for some fun late night talks and some exciting outings together

Some dude tries to touch Angel out on the street without his consent? Oh fuck no. Before he knows it, the loser demon is groaning from the hard concrete floor as you grab Angel by the wrist, both of you stepping over the banged up body of the handsy asshole.

“It’s called consent! Look it up, ya fuckin prick.” Angel gets such a confidence boost being with you, you are the physical threat and he is the voice that tears them apart even further. You bruise their skin, he bruises their ego

Angel can’t help but laugh everytime you lose it for him. He just enjoys your company and support so much. He says he can handle himself and while he totally can, it’s just nice to have someone back him up, someone who truly cares for him.

Husk 🃏

BRO IS SUCH AN INSTIGATOR!!!

While Vaggie and Charlie often try to hold you back and calm you down, Husk cheers you on in any and every tense situation you find yourself in

“Oooooh you’re in for it now, bone head.” He’ll smirk and watch with a pleased smirk on his face as you pummel some sinner who dared to threaten the hotel and its residents

Husk’s fav pastime is sitting back with a bottle of booze as he watches you just go ham on some stupid, loud mouth loser who tried to pick a fight with the former overlord

Husk isn’t afraid of a fight, he’s not afraid to get up close and personal with the action but he must admit it’s nice to feel cared for enough to have someone sacrifice their own safety just to protect him.

The only time Husk has intervened during one of your episodes of frustration and rage is when Alastor said something to Husk that rubbed you the wrong way. Seeing Husk’s terrified and helpless expression in response to Alastor’s threats lights a fire in your chest.

“How dare you talk to him like that! I don’t give a shit if you own him, he’s not your fucking pet, you piece of-“

Husk practically, no literally begged Alastor to let it go and leave you be which he did but only bc he sort of admired your lack of fear and your loving but fierce protective attitude.

Husk also greatly admires your lack of fear and strong will. He wishes you were his family for real, maybe he wouldn’t be so depressed and fucked up.

Sir Pentious 🐍

Admires tf out of you, babies tf out of you.

He sees you as more of a little sis, wanting to coddle and defend you always.

Sees you coming back to the hotel one day with some bruises and bloody hands and hes immediately comforting you, trying to clean you up even tho you’re clearly fine.

But, he must confess he loves teaming up with you bc together you’re the perfect pair- Pentious with his tools and inventions and intricate weapons and you with your amazing strength and hot headed, witty comebacks and your courage and your quick thinking.

When he feels that he needs to step in and keep you from doing something stupid, he does so with all his might. Pentious would rather face your wrath himself than let you go and get yourself hurt or killed.

Go ahead, take your anger out on him but don’t risk yourself just for him.

You two totally bond over wanting to be seen as evil, devious and powerful but you’re both actually soft little sweet hearts deep down.

You two cry together a lot lmao. It’s always him crying first and then his crying triggers you.

He would frequently talk to you about how you are always so brave, fearless, strong, never faltering, never second guessing yourself. He’d ask where you learned to be so sure of yourself, he wants to learn to be more like that.

Alastor 🩸

SEES YOU AS HIS EQUAL BUT WILL NEVER ADMIT IT. CANT UNDERSTAND HOW YOU STAND YOUR GROUND AGAINST EVERY ENEMY YOU’VE EVER TAKEN ON, EVEN HIMSELF. YOU HAVE NO POWERS, YOU OWN NO SOULS, YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS PARTNERS OR BLOOD RELATIVES DOWN HERE SO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU’RE SO SPECIAL??? YOU’RE NOT SCARED OF HIM? OH, VERY INTERESTING. HE WANTS TO CUT YOUR LITTLE BRAIN OPEN AND EXAMINE IT, YOU’RE JUST AN ENIGMA TO HIM, HE ADORES YOU. WISHES YOU REALLY WERE THE DAUGHTER HE SPAWNED FOR REAL FOR REAL HE’D BE SO PROUD

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tried to covertly exclude one of my friends from game nights ? 🎮🎧📞

tw: disordered eating, self harm

I've got a discord friend group of about 15 people though only 10 or so are regularly active and game nights often are usually around 6 people but they rotate who participates often. We're all in the 20s and mostly nonbinary / genderqueer / trans one way or another. I'm 25 ftm personally (they them) and the friend this is about in particular is 22mtf (she/they).

Friend is really excited to hit the 1 year marker in her transition and loves sharing how excited she is about her progress - how strangers at her job are gendering her correctly more and more often, how her cup sizes are growing, how much weight she's lost, wardrobe updates, getting to learn girl things from their very supportive mom, etc etc etc. It's all very exciting, I remember hitting my 1 year marker and i'm genuinely really happy for her.

The thing is I struggled with disordered eating in the past. Several others in our friend group have as well and it's something we've talked about both in related and unrelated convos to this issue. Friend keeps an excel spreadsheet with her measurements from bust to hips to weight and will update us frequently whether we've expressed interest in hearing the exact numbers or not. Exact Numbers was one of the things I kept track of and hearing her tracking them (for very different reasons) will often set me off and i'll start taking more and more unhealthy actions, falling back into disordered habits.

Friend has adhd and very poor impulse control. She often joins conversations and talks over people, completely changes conversational topics on a dime, or forgets who is in a call at any moment and brings up someone's triggers. She'll almost always apologize if someone mentions a social mistake she's made, but because the weight/food intake/number watching is so important to them as a way to track their transition it's the one thing that keeps coming back and back and back. I and the others have tried talking in voice calls, mentioning in text chats in the group and even DMing her but because of the topic and this group being the friend group she feels safest in (we were all the first to know and hyped them up on the hrt journey) these are some convos she only gets to have here

and because of the topic, i feel rude or embarrassed when I have to say "hey can we not talk about this right now or i'm gonna have to leave". So on most nights if it comes up I'll just deafen / go afk / just zone out entirely until the conversation has passed. If it doesn't seem like it's going to or they are so in depth that it's genuinely triggering a self harm response i'll fully leave instead so she can keep having her fun and get excited

Game nights are different though

I'm usually the host of game night and so can pick when we play our silly little games. Obviously people can and do still hangout and do things together Not on specific game nights, and we all do, but game nights are my thing. We play party games over discord or multiplayer competition games or lately have been getting into games like content warning and lethal company when there's 4 or sometimes 5 of us (either someone wants to hang out but only watch or we rotate around who plays round by round)

Friend is often working in the evenings and so bc this is an online friend group they don't actually know my work schedule. We usually only have about half the total number of participants be around for game night anyways, so I've been thinking of occasionally lining up game nights for nights when she's mentioned being busy by saying i work the other nights - but only sometimes. I do really like friend. She can be so much fun to hang out with, excitingly competitive and with interesting knowledge to share and generally a good sport no matter the actual game we're playing. But sometimes the worry about the triggering and the trigginering itself are too much. sometimes i just can't handle when she does it and knowing i can't leave and asking her to stop expressing her joy makes me feel like an asshole anyways so i don't want to be around it.

To be clear. I do not think they are an asshole. Friend is genuinely one of my friends. I like her and hanging out with her. they do not trigger me (or any of the others w this same trigger) maliciously. this is solely would I be the asshole.

TLDR: My friends way of tracking her transition sometimes triggers my eating disorder. would I be the asshole for planning game nights that I host and cannot leave / tune out conversations during so that she cannot attend as often in hopes that I am not triggered as often?

[songmingisthighs]

Beefcake Raccoon

group : ateez

pairing : yeosang × reader (ft. boyfriend!jongho)

genre : smut

wc : 6.5 k

tw : mdni, explicit smut, unprotected sex, consensual sex, slight m × m (ofc between jongsang), fingering, cum tasting, dirty talk, cowgirl, creampie, mentions and description of jongho's junk, idk what else to tag here ngl

a/n : pt. 1 of an impulsive mini series with @bro-atz and @skteezcursed. pt. 2 and 3 will be added here once they drop! and yes, i call yeosang beefcake raccoon. how can i nawt when he looks like this ??? and yea i kinda went overboard with this because i had planned on writing 2.5-3k but here we are

a/a/n : it's 12.38 am and i'm sleepy and still sick as fuck and i had the sudden raging NEED to purchase all of the aniteez keyring. which i might do. idk if this is my manic episode making a comeback or me having impulse control issue

buy me coffee ?

beefcake raccoon | concrete bear | manwich

Yeosang isn't really one to butt into other people's business, not even when certain things affect him personally.

For example, he never really voiced out how much he didn't like the way Hongjoong would come into his room, steal his supplements, and just leave things a mess. Mind you, he has no problem with letting the older guy take a couple pills or tablets from what could only be described as a collector's mountain. Heck, he's a firm believer in sharing whatever they own especially with people Yeosang already thought of as family. He just didn't like the way Hongjoong tended to leave some of the bottles not properly screwed. He hates seeing things not properly screwed. So he would just take a breath and clean up after the captain.

Another example is when a tornado came barrelling in. And no, it's not a real tornado which would have probably been better. Yeosang didn't voice out his complaints when his best friend of almost a decade suddenly came by the dorm he shared with Yunho only to kick him out. "Yunho and I are in this small gaming tournament and we need to beat this son of a bitch," Wooyoung said as he set up his gaming stuff on the dining table with Yunho who stopped momentarily and furrowed his eyebrows at this frantic friend, "You do know punchpunch483 is 12 years old, right?" which resulted in Wooyoung glaring at him, "A punk is a punk no matter the age, I will not stand the disrespect that's why he and his guild are going down so deep in the ground he can say hi to his grandpa." At that point, Yeosang simply clocked out of the conversation, dejectedly resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to just watch his show in his bed and fall asleep to it.

There were some conflicts in Yeosang's brain, however. One good thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that he lives with a workaholic nomad and an introverted busybody. One bad thing about the dorm Wooyoung shared was the fact that said dorm is often occupied by a girl Yeosang has a crush on and that girl is dating one of his other best friends.

Yeosang considers Jongho to be one of the luckiest men to be alive to be dating you. You, who in his mind is the most adorable sweetheart of a human being to have ever lived. It wasn't like you were the most polite person what with the names you can throw towards people you dislike and mutter towards rude strangers and the screeching laugh you sometimes let out when someone told you a stupid joke. Everything about you seemed so charming in Yeosang's eyes even when you were being touchy with the friend he was oh so jealous of. Sometimes Yeosang wonders, in his existential crisis-ridden thoughts at 3 am, the chances of the two of you being in the same lifetime. He wouldn't say that he was in love with you, but he wouldn't deny that he would often daydream about what it would be like to be with you, to be the one kissing you and to be the one getting back hugs from you. Well, he wouldn't deny it to himself.

So another good thing about Wooyoung's dorm is probably the fact that he could see and interact with you. But one other bad thing is the fact that sometimes he felt like Jongho knew how he thinks about you and that unnerves him. So he tends to avoid moments where you and Jongho are together because he can never seem to control the longing expression on his face and Jongho would always send him a knowing look and he knew one day he would just crack like an egg under hydraulic pressure.

It seemed like his resolve wasn't faring any better because when he first came by the dorm, he saw you on top of Jongho's lap on the couch, kissing him all over his face and whining. He knew he should at least expect to be met with you and Jongho being all over each other, but maybe not to this extent. The sound of him coming in didn't seem to deter either of you from your... Activities.

Whatever dirty thoughts passed Yeosang's head were almost immediately pushed away however when he saw Jongho pushing you away from him gently and sighing, "I told you I can't do this tonight," he said which earned him a scoff from you, "You've been saying that for the past four days, Jongho and frankly I'm starting to can't do it anymore," you said before pushing yourself off of your boyfriend completely. "That is not even grammatical," Jongho chuckled and you only flipped him off before turning to retire to Jongho's room only to pause when you saw Yeosang.

Yeosang's heart skipped a beat when he saw your frown turn into a bright smile, squealing and hugging him tightly. "Raccoon!" You called out happily. Yeosang never knew why, but you had seemed to start calling him 'beefcake raccoon'. Well, you did explain that it was because he was, in your own words, 'beefy' and his hair for his latest comeback made him look like a raccoon so in a sense, your logic did make sense. What doesn't seem to make sense is how you only call him and your boyfriend with adorable yet odd animal names. To you, Jongho was your concrete bear and Yeosang was your beefcake raccoon which pissed Wooyoung and San off but maybe that's because San is a jealous cat and Wooyoung wanted to be called foxy mama and you scolded them for being so relentless.

Despite his nerves, Yeosang grinned and hugged you back gently, not being able to stop himself from inhaling the scent of your shampoo and enjoying your warmth against his body. "Hi (y/n), is something wrong?" Yeosang asked as you both pulled away. At the mention of something wrong, your frown returned and you snapped your head to glare at your boyfriend who was still just sitting there, smiling innocently as if he hadn't denied you sex for four days straight. "Oh something is very wrong but it's with your buddy Choi Jongho over there. I'm starting to think he's no longer turned on by me or by any vagina-owning creature on earth," you hissed. "Okay you can't say things like that because some animals also own vaginas and I'm not into bestiality," Jongho scolded. At that moment, Yeosang thought he should just go to Wooyoung's room because he felt like he was being dragged into people's business and as fun as it is talking about kinks that could possibly lead him to know yours, he was not about to delve into this particular discussion. Luckily, you threw your arms up in the air and turned to him again, "Seriously Yeosang, if you were Jongho, would you choose vocal recording over sex?" Yeosang's eyes widened and he almost blurted out that he would never choose anything over you but thankfully Jongho beat him into answering you, "I'm telling you, Hongjoong hyung has been riding my ass with this new demo and you know how he is when inspiration struck," Jongho tried to reason. With a roll of your eyes you walked away to Jongho's room but not before yelling out, "Well, at least something's riding you, you cocky bastard!"

Jongho seemed unbothered, chuckling by himself as he watched your figure retreat. "You're not following her?" Yeosang asked, looking back and forth between the couple. Jongho simply shook his head, "Nah, she needs time to just... Cool off and I need to resist the temptation because Hongjoong hyung will be pissed if I come into the studio tired and hoarse," Yeosang nodded in understanding because he does understand what Jongho meant, having been on the receiving end of Hongjoong's wrath in the past for being, in Hongjoong's words, unprofessional, unprepared, and unremarkably disrespectful to people's time. But still, Yeosang felt bad for you and he didn't like seeing you pissed like that which was shown by the way he stared in the direction you went to for quite some time before he excused himself to rest in Woyooung's room, missing the way Jongho was staring at him knowingly with a smug smirk on his face.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Yeosang thought that his involvement in your relationship with Jongho would end that night but when he woke up at 7 am the next day, he was met with the sight of Jongho's door open and as he passed the room, he saw Jongho tucking you in and stroking your hair and taking particular focus in the way his friend's shoulder drop when he sighed in disappointment.

Feeling like Jongho could use a moment, Yeosang just quietly tiptoed to the kitchen and helped himself to Wooyoung's stash of good coffee and started brewing.

Soon enough, Jongho showed up and sat down on the stool of the kitchen counter while opening his phone to check his text message, waiting for the manager to inform him that the car had arrived. Wordlessly, Yeosang poured himself and also Jongho a cup of coffee each. Jongho quietly thanked his older friend before sipping his cup in a slightly slumped position.

"Are you okay?" Yeosang asked, sensing something. Jongho sighed and nodded, "I feel bad for (y/n) for denying her sex and it's not like I don't want to, but I'm just not in the position to considering the state I would be in would not be conducive for recording and I really don't want to deal with Hongjoong hyung getting pissy at me," he sighed. Not knowing what else to say, Yeosand decided that he should at least be polite in this situation, "That's rough man, anything I can do?"

That particular question seemed to have turn a switch in Jongho's head because one moment he had a mopey look on his face, and the next, it was pure intrigue.

"You know what, hyung, I think there is something you can do," he said, finishing his coffee and straightening up. Sensing Jongho's resolve genuinely changing, Yeosang raised an eyebrow, "Okay? What can I do?" "Do you think you can accompany (y/n) and make sure she has all her needs met?" Jongho asked. The prospect of spending the day with you made Yeosang's eyes blink faster and heart beat harder. "S-sure, I guess. I have no schedules today so I can take her to wherever she wants," he ensured, clearing his throat when he felt like his tone showcased how excited he was even if it was only sightly. Jongho raised his eyebrows and smirked, realizing that Yeosang hadn't caught his drift, "You'll take her wherever she wants? What about taking her... However she wants?" Still not getting it, Yeosang nodded slowly, "Yes? I'll... Do whatever it is you want me to do to help your girlfriend feel better?"

Jongho couldn't believe how adorably innocent Yeosang was being. Knowing him for years, Jongho realized how some things could easily go over Yeosang's head by no fault of his own. He was just never introduced to the more scandalous side of life and it wasn't like he sought out information either.

Yeosang stared at Jongho in confusion as the younger chuckled and stood up, "Yes, that's... Correct in a sense I guess," Jongho then rounded the kitchen counter to stand in front of Yeosang. Jongho's phone buzzed and he momentarily checked the message he received before shoving his phone into his pocket, "But just to make sure both you and (y/n) get my point," All of a sudden, Jongho pulled Yeosang by his shirt and planted his lips on the older guy. Yeosang's eyes widened and his hands gripped the counter to regain control of his body because the impact from Jongho's sudden attack suddenly sent him reeling.

Initially, Yesoang was sent into a panicked and confused state because what the hell was Jongho doing? Why was he kissing him? What if you woke up and saw your boyfriend and one of his best friends kissing?

Correction, making out.

Somehow Jongho had managed to slip his tongue into Yeosang's mouth and at first, Yeosang wanted to protest and push him away. Heck, he had already gotten a hand on Jongho's shoulder but for some reason, he melted slightly into Jongho and as fucked up as it is, his mind drifted to thoughts that he knew he shouldn't be having. Those thoughts were mainly in the area of 'this is the tongue that had caressed and tasted (y/n)' and it got him hard faster than he cared to admit. The thought of you helped relax Yeosang slightly and before he realized it, he was kissing Jongho back with the same fervor which made Jongho unknowingly smirk, pleased that Yeosang was responding to him.

It wasn't until Jongho felt his phone buzzed again that he pulled away, realizing that he had to go. He couldn't even hide the satisfied look on his face when he saw how flushed Yeosang was after their little makeout session. For sure, you were going to like things just as much as he did should things go according to his plan. "Please give that to (y/n)," Jongho said all too simply as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Still blear-eyed and slightly confused, Yeosang was trying hard to make his brain work. "W-what?" he managed out after he felt air filling back into his lungs. "Give that kiss to (y/n), the exact same way, please?" Jongho grinned, a little bit too happily.

Even with Jongho repeating himself, Yeosang was still trying to make sure of things, putting 2 and 2 was for him especially since he was practically mauled by Jongho. Seeing the state his friend was in, Jongho exhaled sharply and stood closer to Yeosang, "I am giving you full permission to do ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER it is my girlfriend wants you to do to satisfy her, okay? Starting with that kiss. Carte blanche, sky's your limit!" he then placed a hand on Yeosang's right shoulder and tilted his head, "Capische?" Just to make things more sexually confusing for Yeosang, Jongho smiled at him, showing off the gums that cleverly hid his perverted agenda.

"I- I- Capische, I guess?" Yeosang answered, kind of getting what Jongho expected off of him but also still in disbelief. "Awesome! Thanks hyung, I owe you this, I'll pay you back when I think of something, okay?" he said before leaving his friend with a pat on the chest and an extra squeeze that made Yeosang's eyes bulge out (and almost made him let out a sound but in fear of sounding like a car being honked, Yeosang somehow managed to keep the sound in. Things happened so fast all at once and it made him slightly dizzy. It was only 7 am and so many things already happened. Part of him thought that he was imagining things and that maybe he was still asleep and dreaming but he didn't even know where to justify himself dreaming about kissing his friend.

"Hey Sangie, what are you doing up so early?"

Yeosang snapped his focus back to reality at the sound of your voice but the blush returned to his cheeks when he saw you oh so casually walking your adorable self out of your boyfriend's room and trudging to sit down on one of the stools, right where your boyfriend had just set which effectively set his mind drifting to what had just happened.

"H-hey (y/n), morning! What are you doing up at 7 am?" he asked with nerves thickly laced in his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows and checked the clock on your phone before showing him the screen, "Sangie, it's 8.24," you pointed out. Yeosang had stood alone in the kitchen, so deep in his thoughts that he hadn't even realized that an hour had passed and that time had kept on going while he was making out with your boyfriend in the kitchen. So he turned his back on you after saying a simple 'oh', making it seem like he wasn't flustered by pouring you a cup of coffee before setting it in front of you and heading towards the couch to enjoy his now cold coffee.

For a moment, both you and he were silent, neither of you was sharing anything and just enjoying the silence and calmness of the atmosphere. Even when you moved to the couch when Yeosang turned the TV on, neither of you was conversing over anything substantial.

Well, until you brought up your boyfriend.

"Did Jongho say anything before he left this morning?"'

It was almost comical how Yeosang snapped his head in your direction and blinked twice. "I'm not quite sure but I think he mentioned Cate Blanchett?" You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer, "The lady who played Thor's older sister?" "Yes?" "You sound unsure..." you pointed out, crossing your arms on your chest and turning to look at him fully, "Tell me what Jongho told you and I know he told you something," you pressed.

Now Yeosang found himself between a hard and awkward place. The hard place is between his legs and the awkward place is the position of having to tell you that your boyfriend had practically told him to service you, who is his secret crush, should you request for him to. So he kept stammering, trying to find a way to tell you what he needed to tell you while you stared at him, making him even more nervous than he already was.

"I- I- Well, you see,"

Yeosang sat up straighter and shuffled closer to you, prompting you to do the same.

"W- we- I, Jongho and I, he-"

God, he wasn't even this nervous at his audition and frankly it was starting to annoy you.

"Just spit it out!"

"Fuck it,"

Before you know it, Yeosang pressed his lips on yours, his body no longer at the end of the couch but hovering above you with arms caging your head. The impact caused you to let out a sound of surprise as you were not expecting Yeosang to jump on you like that. There was a nagging voice in the back of your head that was screaming for you to push him away but there was another voice that spoke louder than the former voice. That voice belonged to your boyfriend and it came from the memory you had from earlier in the morning when he woke you up to tell you that he felt bad for disappointing you for the past four days and he was going to make it up to you. Then your brain tried to connect that memory with the text message your boyfriend sent to you, stating that his apology gift has been set up and you can claim it from Yeosang. Was this it?

"Jongho," Yeosang panted as he shifted his lips from yours down to your chin and jaw, "Left you a kiss," your eyes rolled back when he took your earlobe between his teeth and started nibbling, "With me, and he wanted me to deliver it for you," he finished before reconnecting your lips once again. You moaned into his mouth when he slipped his tongue and allowed your own to battle his for dominance.

The kiss was electrifying, breath-taking, and cunt clenching. You couldn't help but spread your legs wider so Yeosang could push your body completely flat on the couch. At this point, his crotch made in contact with yours and you could feel from your short sleeping shorts and his own sweatpants that he was long and hard. Another moan was sent into his mouth and the feeling of vibration made Yeosang grind his crotch onto you, taking it as the perfect moment to let you know the other part of the message.

"A-also," you whined when Yeosang pulled away slightly, resting his forehead on yours, "Jongho wanted me to... Satisfy all of your needs, however you want, wherever you want."

Looking into his eyes, you saw how his pupils were blown and the flush on his face made your heart burn slightly, realizing that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him at that moment. You were not sure if it was because of how needy you were from being denied sex for almost a week or if your teeny tiny crush on your boyfriend's friend was forced to bloom due to the circumstances. Of course, the circumstances are the fact that your boyfriend had allowed his friend to kiss and fuck you should you want to.

"So, Jongho told you to just kiss me or did he specify that you had to kiss me like that?" you teased, starting to relax and opening yourself up for Yeosang who had dropped his gaze from your eyes down to your lips. "He... Left me a kiss but what I gave you is partially from him but mostly from me," he muttered before he dove down to attach his lips to your neck. As he began sucking the sensitive skin, your body reacted automatically to him, your hands curled on the base strands of his hair as your heels hooked on the backs of thighs, allowing his crotch to press closer to yours. "Fuck, is this your way of telling me that you've been wanting to fuck me?" you moaned when his teeth grazed against your jugular, causing your cunt to clench and your spine to tingle. At that point, you were sure that you were soaked but you couldn't be too sure because the warmth pressing on your crotch could Yeosang's body warmth. "No, this is me telling you I didn't like to see you so disappointed because Jongho, your boyfriend, has been denying you sex so I want to help you feel better." As he spoke, you felt his hands creep up to the waistband of your shorts and your breath hitched in both anticipation and excitement, wanting to see just how much you both could go with the fact that you've already gotten your boyfriend's approval in the bag. Toying with the band whilst simultaneously teasing the skin underneath, Yeosang looked up at you with eyes full of hope and desire, "Can I help you feel better?"

It didn't take you long to nod, giving him the confirmation to proceed which he happily obliged by pulling your bottoms so hard he ripped your panties slightly. Yeosang misunderstood the widening of your eyes as a bad thing and he immediately cringed, apologizing profusely as he told you he felt bad and that he would buy you a new pair. So it surprised him when you pulled his face up and hungrily kissed him. "That was so hot, Yeosang, I'm totally okay with that," you said breathlessly, starting to grind your now bare cunt onto his crotch, delighting yourself at the feeling of something hard pushing back against your needy clit. "Jongho has been the only person to be able to do that and fuck did he make such a good decision entrusting you," you whimpered, pulling on Yeosang's bottom lip needily.

Hearing the way you talked about him made Yeosang's heart soar and he suddenly felt the need to show you just how much exactly he had been thinking about you and pleasing you. Confidently, Yeosang pressed two of his fingers against your pussy, effectively trapping your clit between his two digits. His eyes never left your face, enjoying the ecstasy-ridden look on your face as you threw your head back whilst a high-pitched gasp escaped your lips. Wanting to see that expression again, Yeosang began massaging your clit between his two fingers whilst adding more stimulation by moving his fingers up and down. The pleasure was starting to build in you slowly but surely, adding the fact that it was Yesoang who was giving you pleasure and your mind was sent to a pleasure-induced haze. Had it not been for Yeosang's body between your legs, you would have successfully clamped your legs shut.

A shaky breath left Yeosang's lips when he noticed you reacting positively towards his ministration. To the people who would not understand, they would say Yeosang was weird for reading into your reaction so much but how can Yeosang start to describe how much he loved seeing the way your hips rolled onto his hands? Seeing you seeking more of his touch was a whole other level of satisfaction that Yeosang never even knew existed until he saw it with his own eyes. Between your face and glistening cunt, Yeosang couldn't choose which part he liked best. Then again, he had yet to have the chance to feel his aching cock nesting inside your core so he'd have to reserve his decision for after you came on him.

The dynamic of your expression was beyond anything Yeosang could explain because once his fingers slipped inside you, your face contorted to showcase even more of your ecstasy. "You like that, princess?" Yeosang teased as he curled his fingers inside you, caressing the sensitive walls ever so gently that caused your cunt to leak more arousal and your body to shake from the pleasure. "Fuck yes, I do! Jongho, God bless his physique, is chunky and big but so is his fingers but you, Yeosang- Fuck! You and your damn long fingers are reaching so deep inside me- fuck!" you whined, hips rising as Yeosang's finger pulled all the way out only to slam them back in, revelling in how slick you were when they felt your juices staining his palm. "Long, huh? So... Why do you call me a beefcake?" Yeosang teased, lowering himself closer to your cunt which surprisingly made you a bit shy as seen from the way you tried to close your legs. Of course, Yeosang wouldn't let that happen so he used his upper body strength and directed it to his palms, forcing your legs to stay open and not even caring that your stream of slick was trickling down on the couch. "Excuse you, Yeosang, you're not just a beefcake, you're MY beefcake raccoon," you scoffed as you maintained eye contact with Yeosang in faux confidence, oblivious that your stance was being betrayed by your quivering pupils and blush. "Yours, huh? Is that what I am?" Yeosang tried to bite back the grin on his lips as best he could but it was futile as he couldn't even hide the way his hips grind onto your shin when he heard you referring to him as yours. "I don't know about you but fuck, I love the sound of that," he said shakily before diving down to lick a fat stripe from your drenched hole up to nibble on your clit.

That was the last straw. The teasing, the sexual frustration, and seeing Yeosang between your legs had fucked up your brain so much that all you wanted was him.

Sitting up slightly, you somehow managed to pull Yeosang up by the collar of his shirt and push him so he was the one on his back. The frantic movement of your hands pulling Yeosang's sweatpants and underwear paired with the manic, almost crazed look on your face was absolutely thrilling. "I need you inside me Yeosang, please, I want you to fill me up with cock and cum so bad, I need it now!" you whimpered, pussy drenching the fabric of his thigh so embarrassingly bad that it caused Yeosang's cock to twitch as it was released from its confines.

"Use me then, after all, that's why I'm here."

It was the last confirmation you need before you all too easily slip his cock inside of your cunt. For a moment, the both of you only revelled at the feeling of each other for the first time. Yesoang was enjoying how warm you were and how much he liked the sharp contrast between the cool air and your warm core, the sudden change forced the air to be knocked out of his lungs and his eyes to roll to the back of his head. You, on the other hand, were struggling with the fact that Yeosang was reaching inside you so deep that your legs were starting to shake. As crude as it seemed, your immediate reaction was to notice the difference between him and Jongho. It wasn't like you were ranking or making a pros and cons list in your head, you were just noticing how different they pleasured you. Jongho was definitely shorter but girthier, it was always a struggle to take him in as he filled you up almost immediately and even once you got used to the feeling of fullness, you still struggled to move your own body so usually, Jongho would do the work. But Yeosang, he was slimmer but definitely longer, something you didn't take into consideration on the first impact as once he was sheathed inside of you completely, you felt his tip kissing your cervix and it was a new feeling that you had yet to be accustomed to. Whether it was due to his size or the pool you had created down there, you found yourself able to move on your own a lot easier and that made your brain go fuzzy.

Once you both got used to the novelty of feeling each other so intimately, you began fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock. Right off the bat, you were moving so vigorously and Yeosang could only stare with a slacked jaw. "Fuck, Yeosang your cock is hitting me so deep!" you whined, throwing your head back from the feeling and clenching down on him. Yeosang never had much of a comparison material as he was never one to seek out physical relations so often. But even then he knew that the level of pleasure he was experiencing was only achievable because he was getting it from you. Yeosang had to grip your hips to ground him back to reality because he was sure that if he hadn't, he would've definitely thought that he was dreaming. But the feeling of you grounding yourself on top of him was surely something his brain couldn't manipulate no matter how much he tried. And when you changed you changed your position, his brain went haywire. You initially had your knees on either side of his hips and the sight of you rubbing your needy cunt on him was something he could never forget. But then you paused to prop your legs by bending your knees and leaning back with your hands on his muscular thighs. The feeling of Yeosang's flexing muscles beneath your fingers honestly made your cunt clench and weep slightly and Yeosang couldn't help but take note of it.

The very moment you got settled in your new position, you immediately started bouncing yourself on top of Yeosang, impaling yourself multiple times on his cock. If your rhythm was vigorous before, this was... Maniacal. You were jackhammering yourself like a crazed person trying to seek relief. As sick as it was, for some reason, Yeosang loved the way you were basically using his cock for your own release as if he was a toy that you oh so graciously choose to relieve the building ache and need from being denied by your own boyfriend. Your stamina was proof of your desperate need to get sexual release and the way you showcased it could only be described by him as an art performance. "Shit, you're so hot," Yeosang hissed on a particular snap of your hips, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass before his right hand travelled up to your (Jongho's) shirt and grabbing the bottom as he pulled them up to reveal your torso, "Bite this for me please, baby, I wanna see your body, I NEED to see your body," he whimpered, his finger caressing your chin as he tuck the bottom part of your shirt between your teeth. You bit back a grin when he called you baby, feeling giddy all of a sudden but you tried to play it cool. He let out a shuddered breath when he noticed you weren't wearing any bra and frankly, he couldn't help but think about how lucky Jongho was to be able to feel you pressing up to him every night if he wanted to. You moaned and clenched down on him, "Fuck, I didn't peg you for a tits man, Yeosang," you teased but took a moment to tweak your left nipple, "Do you like my tits?" you asked, purposefully moaning and rolling your hips. "No," he huffed as he placed his right hand on your crotch, thumb pressed on your clit which caused you to jolt slightly "I like you," he smirked cheekily.

The confession was rather surprising but you noticed it made your stomach to flutter. Egged by his profession, you started fucking yourself on Yeosang's cock again, this time, the stimulation from his thumb on your clit made your movements harsher but messier. Neither of you could speak clearly, not that you wanted to, you were enjoying the sounds Yeosang was making and he was in a trance as he stared at the way your pussy was swallowing his cock whole. "Greedy baby," he hissed, finally finding the ability to snap his hips back to meet yours, "Taking my cock so good, making sure I'd remember your pussy always." The impact from his hips successfully made your footing falter as you found your right leg slipping and your body tumbling forward, your bare chest met Yeosang's clothed one.

"Fuck me, you got some talented hips there," you giggled, immediately adjusting your thrusts to the new position and enjoying the friction of his shirt on your tits. Moaning, Yeosang held you tight with one arm as the one that was on your clit moved to his face, "Nothing you couldn't escape from your beefcake raccoon, right?" he smirked while licking your arousal clean from his fingers.

With a sharp exhale from you, you planted your lips back onto him, tasting yourself on his tongue before moving your hips even faster. You were thankful that your boyfriend had forced you to ride his thighs so much that you had somehow gained the core strength to ride Yeosang like a champion. "Y-Yeosang, fuck- I'm close!" you whimpered against his mouth, your movements getting sloppy as the tension in your cunt increased, now trying its best to reach climax. Yeosang nodded at your admission, hands moving to hold you by your thighs so that you would still be wide open for him. "I'll make you cum, (y/n), don't worry," he pecked your lips before dropping his forehead on your shoulder, "I'll make sure you're satisfied."

Your hands found purchase on the armrest behind Yeosang and on his shoulder, trying to hold onto your sanity that was being torn apart by each thrust Yeosang delivered. Your head fell slack and your eyebrows furrowed as you felt your climax at the tip of your tongue. Yeosang was trying his best to get you to cum and with the way your walls were hugging him in a vice, he knew it wouldn't take long to push you over the edge. "Y-yeosang!" you whined, your hips now stilling as you reached your climax with a shake of your body from how intense it felt. Yeosang held your legs open for him and his hips never stopped, allowing you to ride out your high while also trying to reach his own.

Though you were induced into a pleasure state, you were still thinking about Yeosang and fuck if there was not one thing in your mind.

"In me, Yeosang, finish in me! I need to be filled!" You managed out, practically begging to be stuffed as how your boyfriend usually would. Though it was Yeosang fucking you, you couldn't help but let the thought of both he and Jongho filling you up with their cum flash through. The mere thought sent shivers down your spine and your hips to suddenly roll.

Yeosang was trying his best to not lose control because Jongho hadn't said anything about allowing him to cum inside you. "A-are you su-re, (y/n)? I can just- fuck, I can just jerk myself off," he assured you. But you whined and started peppering kisses along his jawline, "Please fill me up, Yeosang, you said you- ah! You had to please me, right?" you pouted.

A grunt rumbled through Yeosang's chest and without much complaint, he began thrusting into you in shorter but more precise movements. The overstimulation was trying to get you but you tried your best to hold on by distracting yourself. Your left hand found purchase on Yeosang's right peck and your fingers automatically squeeze the soft flesh and your fingers toy the stiff peaks with each movement.

As it turns out, that seemed to set off Yeosang because suddenly he held your body flush against him and you felt his cum filling you up in spurts as his cock twitched inside you. The sensation made you let out a low hum and your head rolled to nest on the crook of Yeosang's neck.

For a moment, you both could only lay there, resting on each other as you tried to catch your breath. Your haze was dwindling down into a daydream and your body was adjusting so you could rest after the session you just had. Though you had Yeosang under you, you couldn't help but think of your boyfriend and how after this, you're going to need to thank him. But when Yeosang readjusted his position so that his head was resting against the armrest and your head was on his pecks, your thoughts shifted. You propped your arms on Yeosang's chest and your chin on them, smiling up at him, "What got you grinning?" Yeosang asked but he was returning your smile with his. You shrugged, "Not sure, maybe it was post-orgasm bliss," and you wanted to add that it could also be the fact that he had just confessed that he liked you in the middle of sex but you didn't want to make things awkward so you kept that little jewel to yourself.

"So," Yeosang cleared his throat, "Are you feeling happy and satisfied now?" he asked, suddenly remembering the task his friend had given him. You pursed your lips, momentarily thinking of an answer before a mischievous glint past your eyes. "I think... Not quite," you replied, your legs suddenly caging Yeosang's hips which effectively rubbed his softened cock the right way as seen from the way it was starting to twitch back to life. Taking the hint, Yeosang's tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip in hunger.

"Well, I did promise your boyfriend that I would do anything to make you happy, didn't I? We'll just have to keep doing it until you're completely... Satisfied."

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[kriscommitscrimes]

IN-DEPTH CHARACTER ANALYSIS OF KRIS(MAS) DREEMURR

Hello! I've wanted to make this post for a WHILE now, since Kris is my favourite character ever, and I LOVE analyzing characters!!

Anyway before I start just remember that people consume media differently, and this is just what I've personally picked up on. You may interpret certain points I make differently to me, and that's ok! I'm just sharing MY analysis of Kris, at the end of the day, they're a character who has never spoken any dialogue that's visible to us, so their intentions behind certain things could be interpreted differently depending on who's consuming the media.

Kris will be EXCLUSIVELY referred to by they/them (they/them/themself specifically) pronouns throughout this post. If you refer to them as anything other than they/them while interacting with this post I'm gonna block you on the spot sorry.

ANALYSIS BELOW THE CUT BECAUSE IT'S LONG!!! TW there's probably some swearing I can't remember

By the way, I'm not including any screenshots because I. forgot to take them last time I played through Deltarune, but the next time that I do, I'm going to make like a revamped version of this post with screenshots. Sorry about that!!

Kris is their own, separate character from the player. This is a no-brainer if you've actually played through Deltarune and paid the slightest bit of attention to it. Kris is their own, separate character with a VERY distinct, interesting personality, who had a life before the events of Deltarune, and even still has control over some things that they say and do while in our control.

Kris isn't actually a quiet person. Kris, in reality, is an overdramatic, sassy, talkative person who often draws attention to themself by scaring people (especially Noelle), and causing scenes. They CONSTANTLY play mean spirited pranks on Noelle or pressure her into things (I'm NOT talking about Snowgrave, I'll get to thar later), like shaking the ferris wheel carriage despite Noelle being scared of heights, and telling her that ICE-E is real and eats kids. They still do this during the events for Deltarune, like if you go against Noelle's wishes and pet the cheese, Kris strokes it like a cat, and if you give Noelle a healing item called a Choco Diamond, she says something along the lines of 'Umm, it's ok, Kris, I'll share', and both of them get healed. We don't choose for Kris to force Noelle to share, that's a decision they make. As for drawing attention to themself, the first thing that comes to mind is they falling to the ground and sulking when they're too short and weak to play Queen's arcade machine, or them barking at Noelle when she offers them a dog treat. They're loud and impulsive, shown when they eat the pie at the end of chapter one, repeatedly kicking the robot in the basement when nothing happens originally before the Sneo fight, eating all of the chocolate Undyne gives them to give to Alphys if you interact with the box, and screaming that they're normal if you call Toriel after watching her conversation with Alphys at the start of chapter two. Speaking of which...

Kris seems to have identity issues. This is one of the things here that everyone in the fandom is kind of already aware of, but this is a full character analysis, so it's still important to mention. Kris is the only human in Hometown, but desperately wants to be perceived as normal. They scream it at Toriel like I mentioned earlier, they wore a headband with red horns on it when they were little to look more like a boss monster, and they seem actively disgusting or even frightened by other humans. They also seem to be living in their brother's shadow a bit, which may be why they like drawing attention to themself. Everything I've said about their personality seems to be a little on the negative side so far, but everyone in Hometown knows their name, and seems to quite like them, so why is this? Well...

Kris is charming, well-spoken, and funny. They're a prankster known for pulling mean-spirited pranks on people, but even still characters like Noelle look back at those things fondly, and everyone in Hometown seems to like spending time with Kris. Kris' flirting abilities are pretty obvious, and are used to win over loads of Darkners, not to mention their ability to formulate a compelling speech on the spot, as shown during the first Queen battle when toasting to her. They easily win people over, especially if they like a person, I mean, they became best friends with their former bully in a DAY! A DAY!!! People seem to find them just genuinely fun to hang around, probably due to them just being a funny, charming, somewhat balls of the walls kinda person.

Kris is NOT evil or malicious. This is one of the most important points I've wanted to make on this post. I've seen the theory that Kris is evil because they don't actively do anything to prevent Snowgrave from happening tossed around and I'm here to say that that is actually fucking stupid sorry. Normally I HATE being mean about people's theories because, like I said, everyone consumes media differently, but that one is just genuinely terrible. I'd say it's WAY more likely that as Noelle gets strong, out control over Kris becomes stronger. Normally, when we choose an option to make Kris say or do something, they ELABORATE on that, which is confirmed by how characters interact with them. We just can't see them speaking to give the illusion that they're a blank slate, under our full control. But, during Snowgrave, they just say EXACTLY what you tell them to say. If you tell them to say 'We're something else', they just say 'We're something else'. If you tell them to say 'Proceed', they just say 'Proceed'. Sure, you could put this towards them not caring, but after Berdly is frozen and you reunite with Ralsei and Susie, both of them say that Kris looks HURT. And later on, they REFUSE to go and see Noelle in her room. The refuse to THINK about it. They're not happy with what happened. They didn't want to go around freezing people. But the one thing that Really stood out to me, was during the Snowgrave Spamton Neo fight. Near the end, you have the option to call Ralsei and Susie for help, which prompts the flavour text; 'Kris called for Susie and Ralsei... But nobody came'. After that, you have to call Noelle for help to finish the battle, which prompts the dialogue; 'You called for Noelle'. Spamton states that Kris could barely whisper her name. They're trying to stop you from calling for her. Those aren't their words. I think that kind of confirms that they didn't want Snowgrave to happen. Kris is just a funny teenager with identity issues, they're not evil. Sorry evil Kris fans.

Kris probably isn't the Roaring Knight. They're A knight, but not THE knight. So far, they don't REALLY have any motivation for opening the first two fountains that I'm aware of, and I doubt they knew they could open a fountain until Queen's speech at the end of Chapter 2. At the end of Chapter 2, however, they do seem to have a motivation to open a fountain. They (presumably) slash Toriel's tyres to stop her from leaving the house to go and get flour. They want her to see the Dark World. And if you choose the option to talk to Undyne about the Dark World, Kris explains it to her in FULL DETAIL, but she brushes it off as a joke. Toriel finding her tyres slashed leads her to call the guards, and Kris leaves the door of the house wide open. They want Undyne to see the Dark World, I don't know WHY, but they do for some reason. But I REALLY doubt they're the Roaring Knight, they just don't have the motivation, and if it is them, it would be really weird for Toby to reveal that so early. I really doubt that kid wants to bring on the end of the world.

That's all I have for now!! Expect a more fleshed out version of this next time I play Deltarune with screenshots and such, though I may wait until chapter 3 and 4 come out! Thanks for reading!

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Man-Sized 5/9 Rebound Effect

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!OC

Tags: Explicit content, +18 audiences only. Smut, romantic angst, fluff. An unapologetic LOVE STORY. Sexual tension, mutual pining, banter, flirting, developing relationship, strangers to lovers. Simon Riley has a dark past (partly inspired by Modern Warfare 2: Ghost comics).

CW/TW: References to PTSD, depression, past torture and abuse in later chapters.

Summary: A uni student who pole dances at a strip club to pay her rent encounters a mysterious giant of a soldier seemingly incapable of falling in love.

He left after that.

And what was more, he left without saying goodbye, he just sneaked out in the morning and left her with a bunch of money on the table. At some level, it made her feel like a prostitute, even when she knew that was not what Simon had meant.

She didn’t harass him for leaving like a thief in the night because the man had obviously freaked out. It would do no good at this point to try and have a therapy session about it. But what she did comment on was the money roll he had left her with.

She wasn't bitter, only bereft. She had thought Simon would stay at least a few nights if he was on leave. Truth be told, she had thought he'd stay for a week like he used to when he came to watch her at the club. But he was running away from guilt, not her; protecting her by pulling back the potential threat that was him. As soon as she realized he only did what a soldier would do, all confusion left her. It was admirable, but she feared it also meant that the silk gloves were back on.

You forgot something on the table.

A gift. Don't take it the wrong way.

If you say so.

Thank you.

Anytime.

The gratitude came mainly from remembering her manners. But it got under her skin, so much so that she felt like there was more to this than just Simon wanting to help her out or play the provider.

In a furious decision of not submitting to the role of someone who just waited for their man to come home from work or war, she tried to concentrate on her studies. But the next time she visited the library, she walked straight to the psychology shelf and loaned books about PTSD and war-related trauma.

She read about the major symptoms of torture victims, the PTSD treatment for combat veterans, she read how to screen for impulse and control issues. Whatever had happened during Simon's career as a soldier had left more than just scars. Combined with a traumatic childhood, it was a marvel he was doing as well as he was. If she were to continue down this path with him, she would have to take it slow.

Slow and steady would win the race. Creating an atmosphere of safety would win the poker game. Again, she could hear the alarm bells ringing but did nothing about it.

Simon had left but wasn’t wholly unavailable this time. He wasn’t working in the field and had more time for her. He even called, and not just once, but nearly every night. For the first few times, it was only a brief session, just an exchange of how are you’s and how’s it been’s. It was a change and a welcome change at that. The calls soon turned into hour-long marathons.

He shared more details about his life in the base of the unnamed military organization he was working for and revealed that he was the commanding officer of his team. The person she had taken for a shady ladies man and a simple soldier turned out to be a warm-hearted, level-headed leader who was fiercely protective of his subordinates.

The way he and his team found humour, even in the most grim situations, was hilarious, and she spent most of the calls laughing with tears in her eyes. Simon seemed especially vexed with a certain Scottish teammate who was the exact opposite of him: extroverted, silly, and cheerful. So lovably childish that it was clear that Simon was more like a father figure than a superior officer to this man. And it was also clear that he wasn’t actually vexed at all: he loved this particular person, who was codenamed after being good at "cleaning", more than anyone.

"What do they call you? Skeletor?"

"Very funny."

"Why is your alias a secret but Soap’s isn’t?"

He finally told her, and another door into his soul opened. It was labeled with one simple word.

"Ghost."

And of course it would be something memorable and ominous.

"What’s the story behind that one?"

There was a short silence on the other end.

"I was buried alive once but came back."

At her end, the silence was much longer, much more palpable. It sounded like a stupid joke, but she knew better. The men she had previously dated were definitely not in the same league as Simon.

This was fucking crazy. She tried to sound casual as she made a quip about another horrible trauma this man had suffered.

"So you’re the Kill Bill Bride instead of 007."

"I used the jawbone of the dead man I was buried with to get out."

Jesus Christ on a motherfucking surfboard.

"Oh, or a MacGyver."

There was a husky laugh at that, but she was fucking horrified.

That stuff followed her even to her dreams. In them, he was the undertaker, and she had to get out of a coffin by using a skull he gave her. Another test… not assigned by Simon, but by Ghost and those eyes that wanted her dead.

In other dreams, she was there with him in the field, invisible to everyone but him, helping him find a way through bombarded buildings like Ariadne escorting Theseus in a labyrinth. She liked those dreams more because in them, Simon needed her and not the other way around.

He seemed hellbent on his protocol of not updating her on where he was, what he was doing, and when they would be able to see each other again. She kept her apartment always tidy in case he would stop by, she put on makeup, even when she went to grab something from the store. Her eyes roamed the campus in search of a tall man dressed in black, and the smell of cigarette smoke made her stomach pinch with excitement. If Simon was even half as into her as she was into him, he would have serious trouble concentrating on his work.

She was tired of being the one always waiting for him. In that department, slow and steady started to feel like an absolute torment. Appearing calm and collected, playing hard to get had worked for a while, but what would happen if she went all in and made him want and wait? What if there was a hidden jackpot in being a tease?

She sent him photos in various states of nudity, cuteness and temptation: when she was chilling on her bed, or about to walk on the stage, once even when she was at school — always with the enticing words Wish you were here or Thinking of you. It was raunchier than the first time, highly uncharacteristic of her, and so much fun that she didn't even have to fake a smile in those photos. It was a pure attempt to seduce him.

And it worked: after only a few days of sending such pictures, Simon came back. As always, there was no warning, unless the radio silence after the fourth photo could be considered a warning that a storm was coming.

She was at the club, and her gaze had turned inwards when Simon had walked into her life. She didn’t choose a guy from the audience anymore. She only danced for herself and him, wherever he was.

She noticed him only in the middle of her show and started smiling, something she never did while on the pole, at least not here. The second she saw him in that familiar setting with a scotch in front of him and those eyes burning, the whole world shifted. Had he taken a day or two off just to come here and make her pay for her little come-hithering? The rest of the dance was energetic and wild, and that beaming smile gave her a roar of applause she had never experienced before. The whistles followed her even to the bar as she went straight to his table and all but radiated delight.

"I've forgotten how bloody good you are on that thing," he said with a thicker voice than usual.

"Nice to see you too, honey."

He looked at her with a full-blown smirk then and was, all in all, completely different from the guarded stranger she had first met at this very same place.

"I've been promoted to honey?"

"Don't take this new position lightly."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

He downed that scotch, and she went to get her things, and when they walked to her apartment, he took her in a gentlemanly arm-in-arm escort. It felt good, the kind of possessive that said he was committed, that they were in a relationship. An established couple.

But as soon as the front door of her home was closed, the gentleman turned into a ravenous mercenary who pinned her against the wall, much in the same way he had done nearly three months ago. The shared kiss was starved and desperate, and she had no trouble whatsoever getting wet for him anymore.

"You're the most infuriating man I have ever met, did you know that?"

They were both panting at that point, and she was feeling high and wild, especially when Simon seemed suddenly more serious than ever.

"I'll take that as another promotion."

"Of course you will," she whispered out of breath as he devoured her neck and pressed her even more fervently against the wall of her hallway. Her heart was racing, and she had never, ever had a feeling that a man could merely lift her skirt and pull her panties aside and slip inside with no effort. Right now, she did, and right now, she would go mad if he wouldn’t do it.

"Ya missed me?"

"Every day."

The whispers were like long-held secrets finally uttered out into the open air. The lights were off, the city was sleeping, her ghost was here, and she wasn’t afraid at all. She was ready for everything, to conquer the whole world with him.

"How about you?"

"I'll show you just how much," he answered and suddenly detached from her, then grabbed her by the shoulder to spin her around and pin her against the wall again. It was a rough treatment that briefly reminded her of The Incident… But she was so drunk on him that even that didn’t spoil this moment that only felt good and right.

"This too much for you?" A slight trepidation in his voice told her that they were both walking on the brink of something new, but his cautiousness only made her feel more sure about letting him do whatever he wanted before they set the world aflame together. The silk gloves and normal dudes could go to hell; she wanted bare, calloused skin and a revenant, she yearned for the shared suffering that was only a kin to passion.

"No."

That steel of muscle kept her in place as the other hand went under her skirt. The garment was loose enough again and made the plundering far too easy. And of course he commented on it.

"I like the skirts you wear."

The arm from her back disappeared, only to descend down her back and grab hold of the lifted clothing. There was a soft rustle and a poignant click, and then her underwear was stretched away from her skin.

"They're convenient."

She didn’t feel the blade as it cut the fabric, but she could feel the sudden snap as the soft material yielded under a sharp edge. The rest of the ruined clothing was torn down from between her legs, and he didn’t even put the knife away, didn’t fold it with another precise flick and tuck it back to wherever it had been hidden.

He drove it to the wall. Next to her face, not close, but close enough for her to draw a panicked gasp. It wasn’t a classic stiletto or a pocket knife; it was sturdy and tactical, something she would never even have guessed was foldable. The silk gloves were nowhere to be seen, and she was overjoyed about it.

"You know what's infuriating?" The next thing she heard was a zipper opening as he got himself out of his jeans, then pressed his whole body against her.

"Watchin' all those fucking blokes drool after you in that joint."

It was that kinky talk again, but something told her there was more than a few months worth of frustration here too, gushing out like a flash flood. The thickness was guided to her opening in an almost blunderous manner, but he wasn't a brute. He only seemed to be in a hurry to get inside her and chuckled when he found her completely ready for him.

"Makes me wanna shoot everyone." And then he did push inside, with one measured but steady thrust, letting out a shaky sigh as he did it. She was watching the blade jutting out from the wall and didn’t give a single fuck what her landlord would say about the dent left on his property. Her ghost slid in and out of her, finally content. Tender, but thoroughly passionate, like he had missed her far more than mere words could express. He didn’t need his hands to keep her steady anymore; his chest did all that, but a hand found its way to her hair and pulled gently, lovingly, as he nuzzled close to whisper in her ear.

"Would ya like that?"

She tightened around him — she didn’t know whether it was his voice or his words that made her so unhinged. But another huff of silent laughter hit her at the response she gave him without uttering a single word.

"Yeah… That's wha' I thought."

His other hand reached for her thigh, slid down under the knee, and lifted, granting him better access to hit even deeper, and she finally moaned. She could almost hear the good girl talk, even when it never came. He didn’t have time for that, for there were more important matters at hand.

The longing of entire months came undone, and the knife on the wall was evidence enough that Simon was very much dedicated. Somehow that ferocious gesture was a vow, a whole pledge from the man who didn’t fuck anyone else after all. And if that didn’t make her wet, then nothing would.

"Dripping all over me here…" He stated the obvious as he continued the pillage she surrendered to — gladly and with an orgasm that came almost without a warning as the mercenary drove deep and grunted his desperation on her skin. She had to bolt her lips tight to not whisper something stupid that would only ruin the moment that was her first experience of a quickie, first experience of a fierce, intense rutting perfectly capable of having a godly amount of affection in it.

She broke against that wall and knew that she was lost: lost in Simon, in Ghost, or whoever he was. From this day forward, he would be forever inside her. Even if and when he pulled out, she would never get him out again.

Simon was a full package, and she had to accept all of it rather than try and fix him. If he would leave her only with his ghost, she would be forever bound in that frozen state of the engraving, the woman who dropped everything for the sake of sulking and only remembered beauty and meaning from a distant past. It was better to take the risk and die one way or another with this man.

"Simon," she sighed, whispered, because she was afraid that the three words that must not be said would come out if she wasn't careful. His hand found hers and entwined their fingers together, a surprisingly gentle lapse in the middle of a rough fuck.

"You're the one who's infuriating," he grunted. It was his way of telling her that he was nearing the point of loving too, and her only answer was another broken sigh as she came down from the overwhelming realization and the stunning, sinful orgasm that felt more like a love confession.

She was being pressed into pieces between that hard wall and an even harder chest, spread open for his taking, but it only felt safe to be trapped there like this. She was crying inwards by the time he came inside her while having all the earmarks of emotional turmoil as well. The controlled, rigid manners were gone, and he didn’t pull out for a good long time, only panted together with her against that wall that she paid rent for, which had a knife on it, a knife he had probably used to end human lives. How could the same man kill someone one day and bring someone back to life the next?

The desperate clutch that had curled both their hands into a fist loosened its hold, and the chest that had heaved her up pulled away just enough for her to catch some air. He pulled out reluctantly, and the seed gushed forth, making a magnificent mess. A gentle hand ran down her back, another released her leg just to slide up her hip like she was the most precious work of art a bloodied man like him had ever looted. She reached a hand behind his neck to tell him that she was his if he wanted her.

"Love," she whispered the most important one of those three words, and he lowered his head to rest on her shoulder. His was a heavy weight to carry, but she didn’t feel like she was Atlas holding the world. This burden was something she shouldered with joy.

---

The next morning was laced with drowsy tenderness and lazy lovemaking, and she couldn’t hold the question in any longer.

"Simon… are we in a situationship or a relationship?"

"You tell me."

She turned in the loose hold of his arms and admired how comfortable he looked under the mundane, flower-patterned linens. Simon still couldn’t be described as someone joyous or carefree, but he did appear calmer than ever. She liked to think that at least some of it was her influence.

"I like you. I like this."

"Yeah... You're okay, I guess," he muttered with a sleepy smile. She laughed and got up with the intention of making some coffee. And tea.

He soon followed in her trail, and the mood in her apartment was heavenly. He sat on her couch with nothing but his boxers and t-shirt on, the sunlight got in, and the coffee machine made cozy sounds and filled the air with the smell she loved. Simon didn’t even go outside for a smoke: it looked like he was in no hurry at all to get anywhere from that little piece of furniture.

She knew that love was a drug. Would Simon find it amusing if she told him he was the only drug she was on? If she confessed that she was an addict who never wanted to go to rehab...

"Why do you wanna be with me of all people?"

She had already asked the question once before, but today, she was feeling unusually confident. Some of his cockiness was contagious, and something had shifted last night, some fragile power, and she felt wild and optimistic again.

"You're a hot school girl."

"Simon…"

"You remind me of… I dunno. Something from back home."

Again, she didn't quite know what to make of him. Did he mean that he liked the girl from next door look? Was she a nice holiday from his exciting, death-defying work, a small slice of wholesome dullness? It wouldn’t bother her if she was. But something in that remark screeched in her head like nails on a blackboard.

"Something from back home? Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

The sunlight didn’t only fill the room with light; it exposed dust and long-forgotten clutter.

"Tell me about your childhood in Manchester."

"No thanks."

Her confidence this morning was more than enough to move whole mountains and seas. She wanted to know, even if it would hurt to know. If this was supposed to last, she needed to know.

"Was your father a beater?"

"Yeah, and a serial cheater."

He didn’t run away; he didn’t escape this conversation in any way. She had braced herself for resistance, but she was met with none, which caused her to mentally tumble all over the place that was Simon’s past.

And suddenly, she didn't like where this was going. Even if she was the one who had dragged them on this path.

"Only with paid women, though," Simon continued without any filter on.

Hold on…

That didn't sound right.

"Could you please tell me what I remind you of from back home.”

He finally stirred, a torturer who realized he was the one being questioned.

"Sarah…"

"I remind you of a hooker and you're trying to save me?"

"That's not… No."

She saw in his eyes that it was a blatant yes. At least for some part. The jealousy, the offering of money… All made perfect sense now. She felt like a project, not a love interest. She was a nut to be cracked, even if he did it gently and with a tenderness that left her writhing with pleasure. The need to set some things straight suddenly chose to override everything else.

"I’m a dancer, not a sex worker. And just for the record, I've had like three men before you. Plus the relative who abused me when I was… almost of age."

She never said "as a child" because that sounded too fucked up. She had been 16, so it wasn't the same as 6. It fucking wasn't.

She immediately got an excellent reminder of why she didn't share this stuff with people; because that pity stare was even worse than the fact that shit like that had happened. It reduced her back to a helpless victim.

"I don't want your money," she declared.

"Got it."

She turned, feeling guilty and idiotic for having ruined the most beautiful morning they could ever have had. The coffee was ready, but she felt like throwing up. She put the kettle on — would he want milk and sugar with his tea? Perhaps another slice of trauma dump served with it?

Whatever happened to slow and steady, to creating that calm atmosphere…

She hadn’t meant to share that. It simply flew out of her mouth. Not because she wanted pity, but because she wanted him to know that in some way, there were things that needed to be saved, ruins that needed to be haunted by different ghosts…

And hadn't he been her project as well?

She wanted more than this, more than tests and strategies and projects. Raw, naked flesh was what she wanted, not a treatment plan. He had disarmed her last night, and apparently, it was time for the final surrender. She waited for the bullet of mercy, but it never came.

She heard him rise and walk behind her, then felt Simon place his hands on her shoulders. He was here amidst her ruins, and her eyes stung, even after all these years.

"Are we gonna have a pity party?" She squeezed the ear of her favourite Don’t make me use my art historian voice mug. She wondered why the hell she had voiced anything at all.

"No."

"I don't want your money."

"You already said that."

The hands wouldn’t draw away, they stayed and felt soothing. At least as comforting as her snug little home and the familiar smell of coffee in the morning. The nausea had left her shaky, but he held her, just with his hands, making it known that he was here and wouldn’t leave her with her shattered self.

"I only want you," she finally said to the coffee machine and the empty mug and waited for a second or two to see if that warmth would leave her.

It didn't. If anything, the sun seemed to shine on whole new parts of her.

"You have me."

She felt bold enough to finally turn, and he immediately closed her into a hug and pressed her against his chest.

He breathed more life into her, day by day. All the goodness in the world returned, the water reached a boiling point in the kettle, and an exceptionally loud magpie made a racket outside.

"Ok," she whispered and let herself soften against his warmth.

Simon wasn’t a phantom or a cold, emotionless soldier. He was a man and very much alive. There was coffee and tea, and even if they strangled each other occasionally with ghosts that weren’t invited, it wasn’t enough to choke the mass of beautiful things that came from having found something as pure as this.

"You have me too," she announced in his shirt.

"I was hoping you would say that."

[aphroditelovesu]

Yan!Alexander the Great Random Headcanons

❝ 📜— lady l: i managed to convince my sister to let me use the computer just to post this and later I post the sneak peek of The Lost Queen. These hcs are just for fun and contain some facts about Alexander and others are headcanons that I made up, but it doesn't come out of his personality that I wrote in his general hcs, you can read it by clicking here. Good reading and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️❤️

❝tw: not entirely historically accurate, mention of tantrums and heavy drinking and perhaps implied murder (?).

Alexander has a very high tolerance for alcoholic beverages, particularly wine. However, the wine he is used to is the ancient one and not the ones we know, but he would definitely make a point of trying the current drinks just because he likes to get drunk. and he is a violent one

He's a very curious man and that curiosity he has has gotten him into a lot of trouble, more than he's willing to admit. Part of his fascination with you comes from his curiosity.

Rumor has it he had a fear of cats, apparently ailurophobia and will definitely have issues with his darling if they are a cat lover. Basically acting all "the cat or me".

He is short-tempered and acts irrationally and impulsively when he is angry, and even though he regrets his later actions, he is unlikely to apologize. Besides being a greedy and ambitious megalomaniac.

Alexander tends to be very hard on his punishments and they are all in military ways like whipping. He will punish anyone who crosses him, who crosses you, and he will show no mercy. Not even his darling is safe from the King's angry excesses.

He has a low intolerance for spicy foods and you can be sure that when he puts something with too much pepper he won't do well. There was one time you almost swore you saw fire coming out of his mouth 'cause it was so spicy.

If Alexander watched a movie about him, you can be sure he won't like it, especially if it's an adaptation and not faithful to reality. He might want to hunt down whoever portrayed him in such a way and make them understand that the Great King is not to be mocked.

I believe he would be a good father in the "good" sense, better than his father ever was and to me he has a lot of a girl dad vibes, although obviously he would like to have a son, I still imagine he would be a good father to a daughter.

Alexander can have serious tantrums and almost no one may be able to calm him down but you. Usually a few kisses and a soft tone of voice does the trick in trying to keep control over this man. And he gets jealous easily and often of material things or other people's achievements.

It is a fact that he is ruled by you and he wants to satisfy you and conquer all your desires and whims. Do you want a jewelry? Ask him. Do you want an Empire for yourself? It's yours. He's a little bitch for his darling and all he wants, what he'll demand in return, is that you be wholly his and his alone. He has his qualities but he also has his flaws that are difficult to deal with. Do you think you can handle him?

[liquidorcard]

Hey fam we're gunna inact in some sinful behavior again and get real for a sec here on the shitposting blog so TW: Discussion of substance abuse, mental health issues, SA, etc.

You may have noticed I took a bit of a break from posting for a bit. It wasn't entirely due to Lily's "junkie" rant here, but it was partially responsible.

A lot about Lily high key cheeses my biscuits, I've made that pretty clear. Lily and I have a . . . Strange amount in common in some regards. I'm a trans person myself, I come from a similar, shall we say, "dysfunctional home environment" Lily does. We're even both Canadian, close enough in age I grew up with a lot of the exact same regional-specific media she did. We've had some other life experiences in common.

With that said, Lily's almost like the evil funhouse mirror version of my life. I was sexually assaulted for the first time at basically the exact same age Courtney was. Lily reminds me very much of my first partner, who physically, emotionally and sexually abused me. Unlike Lily, I am from an actual multi-racial family and have had the somewhat unique experiences and gotten the somewhat unique perspective of being a white person partially influenced and organically adopted into more predominantly POC culture. I've had to come to terms with my own white privilege and the ways Western colonialism has influenced me on a level far more personal than it would be for someone from a more monoracial and monocultural family than mine. While also coming to terms with and accepting the ways my family has been judged and discriminated against for being so blended.

There's also just the fact that Lily seems to (I wonder if, on some level, intentionally) act like the alt-right caricature of a progressive leftist in the most performative way imaginable, while also clearly not actually being left-wing at all. My pet theory is that the only thing stopping Lily from going full Blaire White MAGA butt monkey is that her pride can't take it. Being treated like a useful idiot for the right to "prove" they're not bigots while treating her with open hostility in every other regard. So she's as "leftist" as she needs to be to get the 12 year olds she's trying to court on her side because they don't know any better. While being profoundly anti-labor, pro-capitalist. Even though the only reason why the alt-right hyper focus on identity politic bullshit like that is becayse it's a wedge issue that allows them to skirt around talking about actual policy.

There's also just the fact that someone can be so, confidently, shit-eating levels of wrong and stupid about the most asinine things. I actually work professionally in the fields Lily has decided her opinions are worth vomiting out into the ether. Fields people in general are way too comfortable speaking with authority on shit they know absolutely nothing about-- but Lily is for sure a special case.

Point is: I'm very used to Lily making me go into turbo big upsetti spaghetti mode. I've been aware of her for YEARS. I'm over it . . . Until I'm not.

I've alluded to it a few times already: I'm a recovered drug user, though I've struggled with general substance abuse and impulse control issues for longer. Particularly because of untreated mental health issues like C-PTSD, a dissociative disorder, gender dysphoria and ADHD. Particularly because of untreated physical health issues that just a few years ago almost killed me. Issues that caused me significant pain, mental distress, and slowly worsening disability since I was 11 years old. Went totally untreated until they came close to taking my life. It's no coincidence that I started stealing my parent's booze when I was around 12 or 13 years old.

The worst, ugliest, most humiliating aspects of yourself? Addiction will put them front and center. It will cause you to do things, act in ways, find out things about yourself you're never going to be able to unknow. You have to live with for the rest of your life.

You're aware of it-- the whole time. What a fucking creature you've become. How you are hurting the people closest to you. It's not fun. The whole time, you want to stop. But you can't. You don't know why you just can't control yourself, what you're supposed to do. You're afraid of asking for help out of fear of judgement or punishment. Drugs are mostly decriminalized in Canada and still, if someone just took access away from my poison of choice and sent me on my way with no further help--- I would have just walked into traffic.

The worst of my issues happened due to some absolutely insane levels of medical irresponsibility that I won't fully get into because they're too long to explain. But I will tell you that, already aware I had substance abuse issues, I *explicitly warned* the doctor who prescribed me the medication that I didn't feel I could be responsible to be put on anything addictive. She assured me it was not. Spoiler altert: it was addictive. A lot of addicts descent into rock bottom beginning with something they were prescribed.

Drug companies will put in these "anti-abuse" measures into otherwise addictive substances that it takes half a brain cell to circumvent. Just take my word for it.

I overdosed at least once, maybe twice on the drug I was originally prescribed. Alone. By some insane luck I survived both times without getting further medical treatment. But as I built up a tolerance what I was originally prescribed wasn't the *only thing* I ended up abusing in that period of my life. I was going to die if I didn't do something soon, and I knew it.

I was lucky. My sister drove two cities over after a night shift to my rescue and quite literally set me on the road to saving my life. My doctor was compassionate enough to allow me to get off of what I was originally addicted to at my own pace, and correctly identified I needed a medication overhaul to do so. My older brother made sure I wasn't dying of dehydration or starvation during my detox period and made sure to do the daily tasks I didn't have the mental capacity to do at that time aswell. Without them I wouldn't be here today.

NOT EVERY DRUG USER IS AS FORTUNATE AS ME, HOWEVER. And even then, recovery is not a straight line, or as simple as having certain substances kept away. It's a demon you'll be fighting the rest of your life, in many instances. Mine included. Part of getting off the harmful substances I was was getting a prescription to Adderall, as I was partially self-medicating for. Something my doctor still monitors me with to ensure I'm not falling back into bad habits with. Something Lily is CURRENTLY bitching about not being able to get a prescription for-- I wonder why, Lily.

I have now gone through THREE surgeries without painkillers. And in one particularly awful incident, was treated rather cruelly by the medical staff over refusing to take them. To quote, of all things, fucking Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo, "if you live with pain long enough, you learn to enjoy the taste." But nothing is like the nightmare of chemical dependence. Pain is immaterial to that kind of hell.

I know Lily is saying this bullshit just to vaguepost about Courtney, but I don't care. Fuck her. Fuck her for daring to judge me, and those like me. That she was that comfortable being this vile about the matter publically should give you a good indication as to how comfortable even other people are to talking down to addicts.

She wouldn't have survived the shit I went through. I dare her to try. She's way too much of a little piss baby to crawl her way out of that kind of suffering.

I know this is a meme page, but I refuse to be ashamed of talking about it. If anyone would like some more information about my experience or has questions as to why Lily's opinion on the matter is dogshit and vile, feel free to dm me or send me an ask. I'll make it clear why Lily is fucking scum for having the balls to say this publically. I'll make her regret it.

[dried-up-f1sh]

This is my Hazbin Hotel OC, Genevieve. She's a siren overlord. In this drawing, I just drew her in a different outfit from her usual ones, so yes, I'm aware it doesn't fit her era. Her main outfit is actually a yellow polkadot swing dress. Anyway, here's some info about her:

TW: brief mentions of murder, and drowning

Death Age: 35

Height: 6'7

Powers: She can control people's emotions with her singing, shapeshift, imitate voices, she has hydrokinesis, and she can detect electric fields underwater (kind of like a shark). She's able to do so because she has ampullae of Lorenzini.

Likes: Gardening, cooking, her kids, singing, keeping the hearts of her victims as trophies, making people smile, old movies

Dislikes: Being undermined, misogynists, being watched, being replaced, not reaching people's expectations

Backstory:

Genevieve, a famous singer in the 1950s, and a scientist with a streak of impulsiveness, was opened to a world of crime after accidentally killing a man in self-defence. After getting away with it, she became bolder, killing those who deserved it by luring them backstage after concerts, but unfortunately one night her recklessness cost her.

While attempting to dispose of a body by throwing it off a pier, her still conscious victim dragged her to the sea with him as they drowned together. One moment she was kicking and screaming against the water as it forced its way into her lungs, the next moment she woke up to the feeling of cold concrete and reddish skies. That's when she realised, she was in hell.

Determined to continue her career as a singer, she decided to work alongside a strange demon who called himself Vox. He promised her a world of ideals, similar to that of the life she lived before it was tainted with sin. Unfortunately, this dream involved the destruction of herself in order to fit the expectations of everyone. To be completely flawless at the expense of her individuality. Sure, it was unhealthy, but she was used to it.

Eventually Vox's partnership with a certain moth man drove her away, but it was for the better... or for her it was. That's when she decided to work for the radio demon, a friend who taught her that she didn't need to create an image of herself for people to enjoy, just to be adored. She assisted him in his killings by broadcasting her songs and putting demons to sleep, so he could carry out his next step. He was more than capable of doing it all on his own but her assistance was appreciated.

She enjoyed it all. She enjoyed showing up to the studio, being greeted by the familiar sight of his wide, almost uncanny, smile every day, but one day it was gone. He was gone. Genevieve's old habits returned and with it, some crippling abandonment issues.

[thisismybrainrot]

thank you, content creator ADHD awareness

(tw: mental health)

I recently watched the “accidental technical difficulties podcast” Jan (PChal) and Tanner (Smallant) made, and it made me feel so validated and hopeful.

For context: I got diagnosed with ADHD earlier this month, but have probably had it since childhood. I've been struggling with it hard, and have had severe self-worth issues due to my seeming inability to get anything done productively and control my impulsive tendencies. I suspected that I had it for a while now, but between self-doubt and a waiting list that was over a year long, getting the diagnosis took some time.

In the video, Jan and Tanner talked about their ADHD, how they deal with it, and that they know a lot of other content creators that have it (with Jan going so far as to say he thinks content creation might self-select to favor people with ADHD). I heard that, and felt so much better about the situation I'm in. These are creators I look up to, who's work I respect, who do things I wish I could be able to do. That made me, for the first time really, be hopeful about my future.

I've since found out about many other content creators I know have ADHD, like Jacob Alpharad, Linus with the Tech Tips, RubberRoss, Giwi etc. (I guess Jan might be onto something). It's been a great awakening, and I guess I'm writing this to say thanks:

Thank you, all you content creators, that are open about your ADHD.

It really means the world to me to have you to look up to as role models, as a proof for me that there are ways to deal with this, do the things you love, and live a happy and successful life.

PS: Here is the link to the "podcast" episode mentioned at the beginning: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UYMbif-BmWM

[overwhelmed-overweight]

hey, i really appreciated the post you made on BED. describing ana habits w bed as pouring oil over a fire is so accurate. do you have any more relevant tips to lose weight? or to break the cycle? im really struggling.

I'm glad (and sad tbh) so many people felt seen by that post!

Honestly I could write a book on how to lose weight, both from a scientific nutritional and psychological standpoint, but the reality is that I haven't even succeed in my own efforts yet lol. Any "proven"(?) tips I could give would be ones that y'all have probably read and heard hundreds of times over.

But I have a feeling this post is gonna get long, so the rest will be under the cut!

In my opinion, the difference between knowing what to do and actually doing it is meeting yourself where you are.

For example, lately I'm dealing with intense stress (family issues, getting ready to sell our house and move to a big city, financial issues, job hunting, a late period...) and it makes it hard to identify emotional eating triggers or fight off addictive tendencies and impulses as a result. It's taking everything in my power and more to not bully the shit out of myself.

As easy as it is to be hard on yourself when facing BED, it only makes things worse. If stress is one of the biggest triggers for BED and you place extra stress on yourself for binging, it ends up being counterproductive as fuuuuck. I know yall know, but it's worth reminding. I know I'm going to binge lately, so instead of fighting it for now I'm just doing damage control.

In terms of tips, I've got a couple that help me personally

Keep a lot of fresh produce and other "safe foods" prepped. I'm a slut for strawberries, air fried tempeh, frozen grapes, rice & gochujang with seaweed, stuff like that.

WATER. This might be an odd one, but before eating anything I'll drink some ice cold water because if I can feel the water hitting my stomach and making it noticeably and entirely cold inside, it means I'm not that full and should/can eat a little. If it's just a little cold, it means I'm mostly full. Preloading with water also keeps me from eating quite as much as I otherwise would.

(TW: sex) If you're so inclined, do something sexual. A lot of the time when I try to figure out what I'm really craving when I'm about to binge, I notice an itch for bold physical stimulation (usually flavor + chewing) and the calming effects that flood my body when that need is met. Masturbation helps me a lot tbh, sometimes I'll make it a whole thing and put on makeup and lingerie. It's not foolproof but it has helped me avoid binges before (especially if you have an enthusiastic partner like mine lmao)

I might edit this post as I think of things. I just want to make sure I'm putting healthy information out there :')

[nikitasys]

TW : brief mentions of RAMCOA/programming

I feel like some people truly don't realise how DID is one hell of a SYSTEMIC (as in, "generalised") DISORDER. Sure, the "main" symptoms consist in varying degrees of amnesia and dissociation. That's already A LOT to handle. Then there's the alters, and some of them have their own personal sh*t to deal with, depending on how their respective identity formed. For example some alters in our system have terrible issues with impulse control, which can be damaging to the whole system in SO MANY WAYS (emotionally, but also physically, financially etc). & that's just ONE example of the kind of problematics we have to face. & THEN, there are systems who went through RAMCOA and programming, who have to fight constantly, on a daily basis, to preserve &/or recover their free will in every single thing they do, and believe me, that struggle alone takes a gigantic amount of energy. It is EXHAUSTING (and quite literally painful) to disobey one's own programming.

It's all worth it, & it's exhausting.

So anyway, whenever disordered systems say there is so much more to DID than what you might think/what is most represented on social media, believe them. These are NOT empty words coming from them.

— Kita (host)

[starkeyshirt]

Manipulated

little! rafe cameron

caregivers! the pogues

in which rafe is manipulated by more people than just his father.

tw//: manipulation, low self esteem, guilt, feeling unwanted, pushing, talk of drug use (cocaine).

<<•>>

When people hear of Rafe Cameron, their minds drift to the cocaine addicted, polo shirt wearing, bad tempered young man with a rich dad and a pretty sister. Those who know him better think of a cold blooded killer, the guilty suspect in Sheriff Peterkin's murder and an accomplice in several others. But truly, do any of those people really know Rafe Cameron?

Rafe Cameron is a boy with a complex personality, substance abuse issues, and a devotion to his father. It's hard to look at such a bad person and think, "Hmm, maybe he's just misunderstood." But the truth about Rafe is that he isn't a bad person; he's a lost boy with daddy issues to a point causing damage beyond repair.

Throughout his entire life, Rafe has wanted to please his father. He wanted to draw the pictures in art class he thought his father would like and do good in the subjects his father enjoyed. He wanted to beat his sister in making his father a father's day breakfast or in buying him a new watch. Rafe wanted to hear his father tell him he was proud of him. He wanted his fathers trust and love, he wanted to be useful and needed with every step he took.

Rafe was never a mean kid. When he was a little boy he didn't have many friends and he didn't like going to school. The other kook boys were loud and obnoxious and uncaring, and Rafe was quieter with a lazier personality. When he first started kindergarten, being his father's only child attending school at the time, he cried every day when his father picked him up and clung to him for dear life. He couldn't tell anyone why; it was that childish urge to hold onto your parents and cry and never let go. He didn't want to be in school wearing polos and khaki pants, he just wanted to be at home with his daddy.

Then one day, when Rafe came crying to his father at the end of the school day, Ward Cameron didn't bend down and scoop his distraught son into a comforting hug. Rafe could tell his father was on the phone, and even though he took his hand and led him to the truck, his father paid him no attention whatsoever. As Rafe sniffled in the backseat, he listened to his father's phone call. It was something about Sarah being upset with whatever babysitter had to watch her while their dad was at work. When they picked his crying little sister up and his father cuddled her and talked to her and comforted her the whole way home, little Rafe felt anger for the very first time. He hated his sister and his father for liking her more.

That night while she slept, Rafe cut a chunk of her hair out with safety scissors.

Rafe was never the same after that day, and he was suddenly aware of the dynamics in their household. Sarah always came first, Rafe was always second. Sarah didn't have to compete for anything, but Rafe sure did. He learned to really and truly hate his sister, to take everything from her that he could in hopes that his father would someday realize he was just as good of a person.

As he grew older, Rafe also grew erratic, impulsive, and emotionally unstable. He received little to no love from his father by the time he was nine, but he still spent every waking moment trying to receive that praise that only Ward could give him. And we all know how things went from there.

Rafe was aware of the things he's done; he knew he was wrong and the guilt ripped away at him everyday. But there were things about Rafe that nobody knew; people controlling him who weren't his father.

•••

Rafe didn't know what he was supposed to do. His brain was short circuiting, but he knew Barry was pissed.

"You do realize what you did, right man? By hurting the guy, you're putting a target on my back, Country Club!" Barry yelled, shoving his finger into Rafe's chest. He watched him quiver.

"I- I didn't know what to do! He was gonna kill him!" Rafe stuttered back, shoving his arms forward in a weak attempt at proving his point.

Barry laughed and rolled his eyes. "That's what you signed up for!"

"I changed my mind..." Rafe mumbled, rocking forward to place his head in his hands. Tears welled at his eyes and his chest was stinging.

Barry knew how to work Rafe. He had his brain wired so he performed when he needed him to but also in a way that Barry could trigger when he crashed. And Barry liked to think he was the only person who could control Rafe in that way; he helped Rafe discover that softness, and he was the only one who could access it.

Rafe's abandonment from his father caused strains on his mental state. A lifetime of fighting for his father's praise, competing for his love - well, that left very little time for a childhood or any way to relax. Barry saw it before Rafe even knew it happened. When Rafe reaches his breaking point and emotions spill from his eyes, that's when Barry can see his mind drifting away; it's a clear switch of mindsets, of headspaces, that Barry recognized well. Something he has used for leverage in many deals, and he could use said leverage to control Rafe.

The first time it ever happened, Rafe was terrified. He couldn't understand what had changed; one second he was freaking out with frustration tears flowing down his cheeks and a heat in his chest, and the next he was being shushed on the drug dealer's shoulder, soaking his shirt with sobs.

Rafe had never let himself be so weak in front of anyone before, not since that last time in kindergarten when he cried on his father's shoulder. He didn't understand what was different either, he didn't feel the switch in his brain - and if he did, he didn't understand it. All he knew was suddenly, he was encapsulated in a warm embrace much like the one he daydreamed about for many years and he had a distinct warm, calming feeling in his chest. His mind was quiet, and things were peaceful until he woke up the next morning and lost his shit again.

Things only became routine when Barry threatened him. When Barry turned him in because he was trying to be resilient against whatever mind games were being played on him, but Rafe learned his lesson. Barry was in control and he had proved that, and when he returned to the Outer Banks, Rafe came back to him like a kicked puppy with his tail between his legs.

Since that day, Barry has felt like a god; he held the remote to control Rafe Cameron, the rich and completely mentally unstable young man with a bad temper and a quick impulse to shoot a gun. Every time he visited Barry, he was freaking out. And every time he was freaking out, Barry did the same thing he did that night before he turned him in: Barry held him and let him cry into his shoulder, he whispered soft things into his ear and Rafe's mind melted away. Rafe would hug Barry tight and embrace himself in having at least one person he felt he could hold onto.

And then Barry would let him sleep in his trailer, he would share his bed and let Rafe lay with his head on his chest. Rafe didn't talk much when he felt like this, but Barry made up for it. He talked nonsense and told him stories Rafe would forget when he woke up in the morning. Rafe would never admit that he enjoyed the relaxation this weird situation brought him, but every morning after, when he was snapped out of his little daze and back into reality, he was always scared and furious. He always felt out of control of his own body and he usually had to break something to feel better.

Rafe felt the familiar fog in his chest starting to well up as he avoided Barry's gaze. He had never felt that way when Barry was angry before; he had only ever fallen into that mindset when Barry was hugging him or saying nicer things. Rafe didn't know what to make of himself, mostly because he didn't trust his mouth to say what his brain wanted it to and partly because he was afraid Barry would hurt him.

  "Are you even listening? Nah nah, don't be starting that baby shit with me, Country Club. Get the hell out of here, man!" Barry shoved Rafe away from his trailer by his chest.

Rafe stumbled, glancing at Barry with a dull and blank look of confusion and highness, but layers of sadness and guilt hid underneath. He could hear Barry shouting as he stumbled away, although he couldn't make out what he was yelling; he was far too busy watching his own far away feet to notice. He felt like he was drunk, his vision blurring and his mind not comprehending right. Rafe didn't know where to go, either. He couldn't walk back to Tannyhill from Barry's, it was much too far. And he didn't really know anybody who lived on the cut.

Rafe started thinking about the things Barry used to talk about when he felt like this. He mumbled to himself about sea animals and the beach, making up little stories as he stumbled along in a childish attempt to keep himself awake and on his feet. Sooner or later, the kook found himself walking up the driveway of the pogues' chauteu, ready to fall over his own feet or fall asleep standing up.

If Rafe was in his normal mindset, he would have never risked going to the pogues with everything going on, but with that fuzzy feeling in his chest and the cloudiness in his head, he found nothing wrong with it. It was Kiara who opened the door after he stumbled up the steps and knocked on the door. Her face dropped into a scowl once she saw him. Rafe flinched and angled his eyes down, something normal Rafe would never do.

"What the hell are you doing here, Rafe?" Kiara hissed. Rafe saw JJ come up behind her with the same scowl on his face.

"I- I didn't know where to go." Rafe stuttered, suddenly very aware of the way his words slurred and how his tone was higher than usual.

Rafe refused to watch either of their faces, but he took the silence as his response; he was not welcomed there, just as he should have assumed. The oldest started to back himself up, still refusing to make eye contact. How could he have expected anything more? After everything he'd done to them he deserved a rightful beating, too.

   "Wait," Kiara blurted just as Rafe had turned to step off the steps. Rafe hesitated to turn back around, but he did just in time to watch JJ punch her in the arm. He looked confused. Rafe didn't blame him. Rafe hated himself too.

   She too hesitated before continuing, "This isn't normal, so please inform us on what the fuck is going on."

   Rafe flinched a little. He didn't know why. He hated how out of his mind he felt. It was like he was high without the bliss, he couldn't function but instead of enjoying it he felt vulnerable and useless. And very tired. "I-"

    JJ looked fed up with his stuttering. He pushed past Kiara, despite her protests, stomping over until he reached Rafe. He then didn't hesitate to shove him with great force down the chauteua's stairs. "That's for messing with us. Now get yourself off of our side of the island."

   JJ wasn't a mean boy, but he protected what little he had and Rafe knew that. He respected it, deep down. He just never showed it and that led to actions that disrespected JJ. Rafe hated everything he'd done. He hated that he helped his father steal the gold, he hated that he stole the cross from Pope, he hated everything he ever did to hurt anyone. Rafe didn't know why he did the thing he did. He wishes he could change.

  Rafe didn't move from the dirt at the bottom of the chateau steps, shaking from his position on his hands and knees on the soggy ground. Wet earth smushed in between his fingers and made him feel real gross on top of everything else. Rafe felt his lip begin to quiver and his breathing grow rapid, and even as much as he tried to hold back the fuzzy feeling in his head, he caved. The blond boy fell forward onto his elbows in the mud, salty tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. He pressed his forehead into the mud, heaving as the floodgates opened and he was left a sobbing mess.

  Rafe just couldn't help it. He hated himself so thoroughly that he might actually do something to himself if he wasn't so afraid. He felt so lost and alone, he had nobody to go to and he didn't even understand what was going on with his body. He felt used and manipulated by everyone, he felt abandoned by his father and like a useless toy of Barry's. Still, he missed them both. As he cried in the mud Rafe wished his dad was next to him, rubbing his back and telling him, "You're a good boy, Rafe. A good boy." He wished he was in Barry's arms instead of on the ground by himself. He even wished Barry was making fun of him for being such a baby, because even negative attention would be some attention.

  Rafe was choking on his saliva and sucking in oxygen roughly and desperately when he felt two grounding hands being placed on his shoulders. He panicked initially, flinching away and diving his face into the mud even more. When the hands didn't move or hurt him any further, he subconsciously dropped his defenses and leaned into the contact. The hands pulled his upper body over and Rafe didn't resist. He still had his eyes closed when the hands placed his head on a warm lap, crying harder with the thought that he might never feel such loving gestures again - he  didn't have anyone who loved him so kindly, and he didn't even know who these hands belonged to. Rafe dropped his butt from its nearly downward dog position, flopping into the mud entirely out of pure exhaustion. He was just so, so tired. So sad and so tired.

  Rafe slowly calmed himself as he felt the mystery hands run themselves through his hair and over his neck in rhythmic motions. They were so gentle and so kind, Rafe questioned who would treat a monster like himself with so much love and care, even if it was just for a moment. As his breathing slowed and the waterworks died down, Rafe came to his senses enough to hear that whoever the hands belonged to was humming softly to him. It wasn't a tune he recognized, but that made it even more comforting.

   Shamefully, Rafe opened his eyes and lifted his red face from the lap that he had properly soaked with his tears. He felt guilty just for that. Looking up, Rafe was met with concerned eyes belonging to none other than Kiara Carrera. "Rafe? Can you hear me?"

  Rafe heard her, but he was terrified. He didn't know how to respond. Glancing over, he was met with the wide eyes of none other than JJ, John B, Pope, and his own sister. He was mortified.

  "Rafe?" Kiara, while in no way liking the other male, couldn't help but be concerned when he collapsed in a full meltdown after being pushed; Kiara had seen him function fine in far worse fights than that. Rafe didn't seem right, and although he never truly did, she knew Rafe enough to know that this was not what normal out of his mind Rafe was like. No, this was very different.

  Rafe shifted his eyes down and nodded, closing his fingers together in his lap. Kiara was just glad for some acknowledgment that he had heard her. She sighed lightly.

  "Okay, good. Can you help me understand what's going on?" Kiara asked kindly. She didn't intentionally start speaking to Rafe like he was a scared child, but when he wasn't answering her, she didn't know how else to talk to him.

   Rafe wasn't sure how to explain what he felt. He felt like he was broken and this wasn't a normal thing to feel. Without looking up, Rafe spoke quietly. "Fuzzy."

  Kiara scrunched her eyebrows together. "Fuzzy? You feel fuzzy?"

  Rafe nodded and then paused. Even quieter this time, he spoke again. "Broken."

  Without a second thought, Sarah intervened. No matter how much Rafe did to hurt her, she couldn't watch her own brother sit in the mud any longer. "Hey, Kiara? Why don't you bring him in to change."

  Kiara sent Sarah a grateful smile. John B, JJ, and Pope made no effort to help, but they separated off to the side to give the girls a clear path into the chateau. Carefully, Kiara stood herself up, extending her hands back down for Rafe to grab onto. Hesitantly, Rafe did just that, He grasped Kiara's hands clumsily, using them to support himself on wobbly legs as he stood. It took a lot of supporting from Kiara and a lot of focus from Rafe to make it up the stairs.

   Pope and John B seemed very neutral; they were neither helping not being ignorant to Rafe. JJ, on the other hand, still sent nasty glares towards him. Rafe physically flinched away from JJ on his way through the door, stumbling into Kiara and almost making them both fall.

  "It's okay," Kiara spoke kindly. "he just doesn't understand that sometimes people aren't what they seem."

  Rafe had merely nodded, but her words meant a lot. He wanted to hug her, but he didn't think she would like it and he didn't want to make her muddier.

Sarah led them both into what Rafe assumed was John B's bedroom. Most of the items in there seemed like they would belong to him and some of Sarah's stuff mixed in with it. Sarah passed Rafe a towel, which he held in his right hand while he shivered. The blond girl then went from drawer to drawer in the dressers, pulling out some shorts and a shirt she thought would fit her skinnier older brother. He was much lankier than John B, but she figured it would just have to do.

"Here you go," Sarah passed Rafe the clothing. "the bathroom is the next room to the right, you're welcome to clean up in there if you would like."

Once again, Rafe adverted his eyes back down to the ground with a slight nod. He then shuffled slowly out of the room and the girls waited until they heard the bathroom door click to move or do anything.

Kiara turned to Sarah. "Have you ever seen him like that before? I mean I know he tried to drown you and all, but something really seems to be up there. "

Sarah nodded. "No, I completely agree. Something's up, and if we want to be even average human beings and try to sort things out, the boys have to be on board."

"Let me handle them." Kiara made a finger gesture to the kitchen.

Sarah smiled fondly and copied her gesture, directing hers towards the bathroom. "And I'll check up on him."

Sarah approached the bathroom door, gently pressing her ear against it for any signs of her older brother still getting himself cleaned up. She was met with silence. Drawing her eyebrows together, she knocked lightly and spoke up. "Hey, Rafe? Are you okay in there?"

On the other side of the door, silent tears slipped down the dirty blond boy's face as he struggled to unbutton his khaki pants. He knew how to unbutton them, he did it every day! So why couldn't he do it now? Rafe let out a frustrated whine as he yanked on the pants to no avail.

Sarah heard the small whine, knocking on the door again. "Rafe, are you okay? Do you need help?"

Rafe sniffled loudly and nodded his head, despite knowing his sister couldn't see him. "Help."

Sarah opened the bathroom door as soon as she heard his small voice, nearly melting at the sight of her older brother clad in just his ruined khakis and his socks with tear tracks down his cheeks and a pout evident on his face. She wasn't sure where this soft spot had came from, but she was pretty sure this is how she remembered Rafe before their father created a drift between them. It strangely made her happy to remember him this way. "Oh, Rafe."

Sarah watched his bottom lip quiver as he adverted his eyes to the ground. "It's okay, buddy. I can help you."

And she did just that, quickly unbuckling his pants for him and allowing him to do the rest. She gave him as much privacy as she could, turning around to grab the new pair of shorts for him, only needing to help him further with buckling those properly. John B's surf shirt somehow managed to still be a bit short on Rafe but also hugely baggy around his shoulders. Sarah giggled about it to herself, finding it funny how two boys of the same height could vary so much.

Rafe was getting very, very tired. At this time of night when he felt this way, he would normally be reading bedtime stories in Barry's camper, all curled up into his side. He let out a yawn. Sarah led Rafe back to the main area of the chateau, where the rest of the pogues were spread out along the floor or the couches. Rafe shuffled his feet as he watched all of their eyes shift to him, feeling guilty and insecure with himself all over again. Kiara elbowed John B, and he awkwardly spoke up. "You can sit over here if you want to."

Rafe looked to Sarah, seemingly asking her to confirm he was being genuine. She smiled and nodded, ushering him forward to sit on John B's right. Sarah took her seat on the couch on the other side of her brother, with Kiara by her feet. JJ and Pope were sat on the other side of John B. Lamps illuminated the space and allowed for a golden glow, the TV quietly playing the news in the background. JJ and Pope were talking amongst themselves about something Rafe couldn't bring himself to find interest in, and Sarah and Kiara did the same. John B was kicked back in his seat with his feet propped up on the coffee table and his arms folded behind his head. His eyes were closed and Rafe studied his face. He thought he looked pretty funny.

Hesitantly but curiously, with a childish hue clouding his brain, Rafe lifted up his fingers and touched John B on his nose. When the other boy's eyes opened in confusion, Rafe leaned back and erupted in a fit of giggles. Despite his better judgment, John B felt himself smiling, too.

"What, is that funny?"John B asked Rafe, a chuckle of his own escaping his lips.

Rafe smiled proudly and nodded. "Funny."

Pausing to watch Rafe for a second, John B could've sworn he had seen these very same mannerisms before. The same giggles and simple happiness that shone through Rafe's eyes; John B knew he had seen them through someone else's, he just couldn't figure out who's. Then, it hit him.

"Hey, JJ?" John B shifted his attention to his blond best friend. Rafe still watched John B intently, like a bored small child.

"What's up, B?" JJ replied, shifting his baby blue eyes from Pope to John B.

John B sighed, "Do you remember that time your cousin was being manipulated by his old dealer? Years ago, before he started his own operation?"

JJ immediately nodded. "Yeah, the dude like, controlled his head. He could shift his headspaces pretty much with a snap of his fingers. It was fucked."

John B raised his eyebrows and looked over at Sarah and Kiara, who seemed to be brought to attention like John B himself was. "Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sarah nodded slightly. "He does buy from that Barry douche. But JJ, how did your cousin act? Rafe seems to be acting like he did when we were younger, as far as I can remember, anyway. "

"Yeah, my cousin did too. It was just like he was a little kid again, and he couldn't come out of it willingly. I don't remember how he got over it, but maybe he never did." JJ put the pieces together in his head, too. It made sense; most of the dealers on this island were all the same, with the same mind games and tricks that they would use to both protect their operations and keep them running. Since Rafe was undeniably hooked on cocaine, it seemed almost certain that what side of him they were seeing was triggered by Barry.

As the others continued to chime in around him, Rafe grew very tired of having no attention. He was trying to be patient, he really was! But it was hard; he was tired and bored and starting to get hungry. Rafe brought his legs up in a crisscross on the couch, shifting around to face his younger sister. Gently, he tugged on her hoodie sleeve and started to fiddle with it between his fingers. Sarah smiled at him, bringing her other hand up to his hair. She rubbed gentle circles in his short hair, and he relished in the feeling by leaning into her touch.

"Well," JJ spoke up. "I would say we have our best bet on what happened, and the only thing left for us to do is keep him comfortable."

"What do you think, brother? You want to crash here for the night?" Sarah asked Rafe, ruffling her hair.

Rafe smiled brightly and nodded with enthusiasm. "Food?"

Kiara giggled. "Yes buddy, we can find some food."

[is-your-blorbo-neurodivergent]

does he have borderline personality disorder and substance abuse disorder?

submit your own characters here to be featured!

reasons under the cut - tw for substance abuse

reason: Anxiety cause look at him. I know it's cause hes a coke addict, but those jitters and anxious stimming and constant sense of danger cant just be from the coke- he's just like that, all the time. Depression for similar-ish reasons, he's literally never content with his situation and almost definitely started seeking out drugs as a way to give him temporary joy or to make the numbness feel purposeful/in his control. Again, substance abuse disorder is basically canon- never explicitly stated but its HEAVILY implied that he's addicted to the drugs and alcohol he takes.

The psychosis isn't AS implied in canon, but its a pretty easy headcanon to come to when theres scenes of him manically talking to himself, talking himself through conversations, believing he's both above the law and that everyone is out to get him, etc. His canon paranoia could easily be interpreted as specifically psychotic/delusional paranoia (I also just personally kinda like the idea that he hallucinates sensations or voices? for no particular reason, I can just imagine it)

the BPD is cause he literally fits all the symptoms. Abandonment issues (severe ones- he hates his dad but is so fucking terrified of losing him or being hated back), impulsivity (cmon.), drastic mood swings (again- cmon.), none of his relationships are stable (even the one with his drug dealer-), complete lack of trust (other than... his drug dealer?), severe anger problems, even some vaguely suicidal behaviours and a SHIT TONNE of self-destructive behaviours.

He also definitely has something else going drastically wrong with his mental health (hes constantly seeking validation, is super erratic, has... just so much trauma, has violent outbursts, strange ideas of his own skills and how the world works, repetition of strange phrases (eg; "I'm a proactive type of person"), etc etc etc), but I don't know what it is, but the boy has so much illness in his brain- someone force him into therapy, I beg- or at least force him to actually medicate himself in a way that isn't just another avenue of self-destruction

*this character was also submitted for anxiety, depression, and psychosis. this was featured in the previous poll.

submitted by @rotteneldritchhorror