#we the chronically neurotic

[letmedownslows]

im late i know. im so sorry.

i always like to give some long reblogs so yeah, get prepared. this is me rambling.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is she being nice to you? I swear to Godric if she even says one mean thing I’ll stick a broom up that witch’s ar—“

how sweet she is (im just like her). you don't fuck with luna and get away with it. not in my presence!

“Glory, riches, power. The usual,” he deadpanned. “What do you think I want? I've been waiting for you at the lab for half an hour.”

he's so effortlessly funny i hate him for it

Mattheo smirked. “Oh, I like her.” 

we like you too mattheo, my beloved

You didn’t even notice that your bantering had stopped every conversation at your table.

i love this thing about Ravenclaws being gossipers, its pretty accurate (im a ravenclaw)

Theo smirked, seizing your wrist. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly so only you could hear. “I’d rather see you wear my jumper again.” 

LMAOOOO

You scoffed. “You want me to relax? I have literally never relaxed in my entire life. I came out of the womb stressed about taxes.”

she's just like me fr.

“Tucking that away for names I’d like for you to call me in bed.”

“Pervert.” 

“Don’t slut shame me, Y/N. We all have our kinks.”

i literally cant NOT laugh bc of him. my man is just hilarious AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

“Only uptight little Ravenclaws who’d rather vex me to death than enjoy a stunning view of the stars.”

i mean-

“Maybe you’re the stick up my arse.” 

“Don’t joke, darling.” Theo quipped, placing a hand over his chest. “You know I’ve been asking for months.”

HES SO UNSERIOUS BYE.

“Jokes on you, I find your threats incredibly arousing. I’m pitching a tent in my trousers just thinking about it.”

AGAIN. i can't stop fucking laughing he's the epitome of comedy

Theo shrugged. “An irritating know-it-all once told me that not everything has to involve magic.”

It was strange to hear him echo your words.

oh. that's sweet.

A set of dimples appeared on Theo’s cheeks. On anyone else, it might’ve been endearing. “Close. There’s also the added bonus of annoying you.”

how lovely

Theo sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He stared at you for a second before his eyes lit up with realization. “Of course. I’m so stupid.” 

“No argument there.”

I look too much like her, it's starting to get personal

Theo rose to his feet and offered you his hand. “Lead the way, diavolina. Show me how the chronically neurotic unwinds.”

oh theo you have no idea what you're getting into

kiss with a fist | chapter three.

masterlist 💋 chapters 💋 playlist

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: high enough by k. flay.

author's note: we're well on our way. this is a shorter(ish) chapter, but that just means that you might get the next one sooner rather than later. as always, please enjoy the banter and sarcasm.

Angel’s Trumpet was going to be the death of you. 

You were convinced of it.

The multiple failed attempts to brew the wretched draught hung over you like a pall and followed you into your second week. When Wednesday night finally rolled around, you were in a proper foul mood. You couldn’t even bring yourself to take more than one bite of lasagne, which was usually your favorite. 

Beside you, Luna set the latest copy of the Quibbler down and looked over at you with concern. “Still having trouble with potions?” 

You nodded, sighing in frustration. “It’s this bloody Angel’s Trumpet. I’ve read over the recipe so many times that it’s practically ingrained into my subconscious, but I just can’t seem to get it right.”

Your roommate smiled faintly. “I know,” she said in her breathy voice. “You do come up with some rather creative curses when you’re studying.” 

You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Loons, have I kept you up with my late night ranting again?” 

“No need to apologize. The wrackspurts are truly doing a number on everyone, not just you. They’re especially rampant during the start of term.” Her dreamy eyes sharpened into something that resembled mischief. “And how are your sessions with Theodore going?” 

The faint smile on your friend’s face told you that she definitely knew more than she let on. Besides you and Theo, Luna was the only person in Hogwarts who knew about your secret little dalliances. She had figured it out rather early on last year when you and Theo kept mysteriously disappearing at the same time. It was a shame that everyone underestimated her. Luna Lovegood was the most astute person you knew. 

You had absolutely no doubt that your secret was just one of many that Luna had uncovered by simply being observant. After all, teenagers weren’t exactly covert even if they were witches and wizards. 

“Miserably,” you finally answered. 

Much to your annoyance, Theo had not let up since the weekend. Day after day, he dragged you into the potions lab with varying disastrous results. Just the other night, the damned cauldron spewed magenta liquid like a geyser, effectively soaking you and Theo in pepto bismol pink like a demented water park ride. No amount of scourgify could wash away the shame. 

Luna laughed. “Pansy said that Theo spent hours scrubbing potion off of his fancy leather shoes.”

“Pansy?” you asked incredulously. “As in, Pansy Parkinson? Since when are you two the best of friends?” 

Your friend shrugged nonchalantly, but you clocked the slight flush in her cheeks. “Don’t worry, I’m not trying to replace you. Pansy and I just have a few classes together, that’s all.” 

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is she being nice to you? I swear to Godric if she even says one mean thing I’ll stick a broom up that witch’s ar—“ 

Luna held her palms up. “I appreciate the concern, but I assure you Pansy is very nice.” 

That wasn’t entirely convincing, but you trusted Luna’s judgment. As protective as you were over your friend, you knew that she was perfectly capable of handling herself. 

“I just worry,” you said, patting her shoulder. “Those little serpents have teeth.” 

“Oh, I think you’re more familiar with the Slytherins and their teeth than I am.” 

“Loons!” 

She smiled unapologetically. “Speaking of which, here comes your serpent now and he does look poised to bite.” 

You turned just in time to see Theo marching down the aisle with two of his housemates. The curly headed one, Mattheo Riddle, swaggered on his right and winked at you. Flanking Theo’s left side was Enzo, who gave you a polite wave. He was by far the most tolerable out of the lot of them. You wholly ignored Mattheo, but acknowledged Enzo with a nod. 

Theo, on the other hand, you openly glared at. “To what do I owe the displeasure?” 

Every head at the Ravenclaw table turned towards your direction. Though your housemates liked to think they were above the petty drama, Ravenclaws were some of the worst gossips in this school. A Slytherin walking amongst their midst was as juicy as it got. 

Completely unfazed by the attention, Theo slid in next to you on the bench. “Someone’s got their wand in a twist.” 

You flashed him a saccharine smile. “I’ll twist more than just your wand if you don’t leave me the hell alone, Nott.” 

Mattheo smirked. “Oh, I like her.” 

The glare you shot his way was full of venom. “The feeling is not mutual.” Enzo fought a smile as Mattheo gaped. You ignored the both of them and turned back to Theo. “Who are they supposed to be? Your cronies?” 

“Merlin, she never truly lets up, does she?” exclaimed Riddle. 

Theo grinned. “You have no fucking idea, mate.” His expression faltered when he saw the ire dancing in your eyes. “Right, I know that look. Leave us before she decides to turn you two into toads.” 

The boys reluctantly backed away. Beside you, Luna followed suit but winked behind her shoulder as she left the Great Hall. Luckily, Theo’s back was turned to her. 

“What do you want?” 

“Glory, riches, power. The usual,” he deadpanned. “What do you think I want? I've been waiting for you at the lab for half an hour.” 

“I can’t,” you said dismissively. “Not tonight.” 

“Oh, yes you can. I’m too invested to give up now. I am going to teach you how to brew Angel’s Trumpet even if it kills me.” 

“I’d prefer to skip the brewing and get right to the fun part.” You didn’t even notice that your bantering had stopped every conversation at your table. Everyone watched as you menacingly twirled your wand. “Shall I buy a new dress for your funeral?” 

Theo smirked, seizing your wrist. He lowered his voice and spoke quietly so only you could hear. “I’d rather see you wear my jumper again.” 

“Let go of my hand and I’ll be sure to turn up to your wake donning your beloved jumper.” 

He sighed in frustration. “I’m serious about the draught, diavolina. We’re trying again. Tonight.” 

“Was my last try not humiliating enough?” 

“There’s definitely room for improvement. Avoiding turning the lab into a slip and slide would be my first suggestion.” His mouth quirked in amusement. Prick. “Aside from that, I think I finally figured out the missing ingredient.” 

“And that would be?”

“Relaxation,” Theo answered proudly. “You’re way too uptight and it’s feeding into your magic, hence all the explosions.” 

You scoffed. “You want me to relax? I have literally never relaxed in my entire life. I came out of the womb stressed about taxes.” 

Theo snorted. “That’s exactly why I’m here. Let the expert teach you, sweetheart. Being relaxed means being confident and being confident means success.” 

“You do know that confidence and arrogance are two different things, right?” 

“Do you want to brew the bloody potion or not?” 

The fact that Theo was the one motivating you to do school work was only slightly despairing. “Fine,” you conceded. “Teach me how to relax, oh Great Master.” 

“Tucking that away for names I’d like for you to call me in bed.”

“Pervert.” 

“Don’t slut shame me, Y/N. We all have our kinks.” 

“Great. Mine is committing acts of violence against snarky Slytherins.” 

“This snarky Slytherin rather enjoys your acts of violence. Especially if it involves your smartass mouth on mine.” You flushed in response, which only made Theo smirk in satisfaction. “Now, come. We’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” 

The Astronomy Tower was the last place you expected Theo to take you to. He didn’t really strike you as a stargazing type of guy, but then again, you probably didn’t strike people as the type of girl who slept with her academic rival out of spite. 

Maybe you both had layers. Layers upon fucked up layers. 

The thought almost made you laugh hysterically as you silently watched Theo transfigure his robe into a blanket. He laid it gently across the wooden floor and beckoned you over. “Sit,” he said simply. 

“This is awfully romantic of you. You take a lot of girls up here, Nott?”

“Only uptight little Ravenclaws who’d rather vex me to death than enjoy a stunning view of the stars.”

You snorted. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

He rolled his eyes and patted the spot next to him. “Sit. I won’t ask again.” 

To be fair to Theo (a statement you never thought you’d make), the stars were stunning tonight. You sat cross legged on the blanket and watched as constellations twinkled in the horizon. If you were up here with anyone other than the present company, you might’ve found it rather nice. 

But alas, this was Theo you were talking about. It was only a matter of time before he ruined it somehow. Probably with a lascivious comment. 

“Why are you sitting like you’ve got a stick up your arse?” Bingo. “Even more than usual, I mean.”

“Maybe you’re the stick up my arse.” 

“Don’t joke, darling.” Theo quipped, placing a hand over his chest. “You know I’ve been asking for months.”

“Do not make me push you over that railing, Theodore.”

“Jokes on you, I find your threats incredibly arousing. I’m pitching a tent in my trousers just thinking about it.” 

You rubbed your temples. “How is irritating the shit out of me supposed to be relaxing?”

Theo grinned, reaching into his pocket. “Because, I have this.” 

With a proud smile, he produced a tightly rolled blunt. 

“That’s your big idea?” you asked, wrinkling your nose at the joint. “Taking me to the highest tower in the castle and getting higher than a hippogriff so we can potentially fall down the stairs and break our necks?”

“It’ll help with your nerves.” 

“The only thing wrong with my nerves is that you’re always on them.” 

He smirked, sticking the joint between his lips. “You’re deflecting. What’s the matter, diavolina? Scared to partake in the devil’s lettuce?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, give it here.” Theo’s eyes widened as you took the joint from his mouth and stuck it in yours. “Well? Are you going to light me up or not?”

He shook his head in mild disbelief before pulling a lighter out of his pocket. You squinted at the silver Zippo, which had initials engraved on the front. The writing was too faded for you to read.

“I got tired of Mattheo stealing my lighters,” he explained. “This way I don’t lose track of it.”

The initials weren’t what surprised you. It was the fact that Theo even had a lighter in the first place. Most wizards just used magic to conjure fire. They certainly didn’t go around carrying muggle inventions in their pockets. It almost made you feel like you were back home in London, bumming a cigarette off some drunk after a night out in the pubs. 

“Why not use incendio?”

Theo shrugged. “An irritating know-it-all once told me that not everything has to involve magic.”

It was strange to hear him echo your words. 

None of it made any sense. Theo would’ve had to venture into a muggle shop to buy that lighter, which was unheard of for a pureblood. Especially not one whose family was part of the now disbanded Sacred Twenty-Eight. The idea of Theo walking around Camden Market to purchase a Zippo was more disorienting than the drugs. 

This little discovery did not line up with what you thought you knew about him. You squinted at him in the dim light, inhaling deeply. The smoke filled your lungs and clouded your senses. Yet one question remained even as you exhaled. 

Who the hell are you, Theodore Nott?

Sensing your gaze, he watched with a small smirk as you passed the joint over to him. It seemed impossible for the drugs to be taking effect so soon, but you found yourself mesmerized as Theo took a long drag. Smoke curled around his mouth as he leaned back on his elbows, tipping his head back to gaze up at the moon. 

“Why the Astronomy Tower?” you asked after a few moments. 

Theo shrugged. “It’s nice up here. Quiet. It helps to get away from the noise.” 

“Strange. I’d become convinced that you sometimes speak just to hear the sound of your own voice.” 

A set of dimples appeared on Theo’s cheeks. On anyone else, it might’ve been endearing. “Close. There’s also the added bonus of annoying you.” 

You didn’t try to stifle your laughter. “Yes, I suppose that sweetens the deal.” 

The two of you sat in silence, passing the joint every so often and quietly contemplating the stars. The absence of noise was jarring. You couldn’t remember the last time that you weren't surrounded by noise. Ravenclaws were a chatty bunch. Whether you were exchanging the newest piece of gossip or bragging about academic achievements, there was always this constant exchange of information. 

Your brain was hardwired to process input. Without it, you felt sort of like a toddler who had just gotten their comfort blanket ripped away from them. 

“Stop fidgeting, Y/N,” Theo commanded with his eyes closed. “You’re supposed to be relaxing.” 

You frowned, picking at your nails. “I don’t think it’s working. Either your drugs are rubbish or my neurosis is canceling it out.” 

He opened one eye lazily. His body language was languid, like he was floating through air. You envied him for it. “Just take a deep breath and empty your mind.” 

“I know that may be easy for someone whose thoughts are typically vacant, but I’m not wired that way. I can’t just turn off my thoughts.” 

Theo sighed and propped himself up on his elbows. He stared at you for a second before his eyes lit up with realization. “Of course. I’m so stupid.” 

“No argument there.” 

He rolled his eyes in response. “I’m trying to get you to relax the Theo way when we should be doing it the Y/N way.” 

“What does that even mean?” 

“Think of the one place in the castle where you feel most at peace.” 

You cocked your head, contemplating. The answer came to you in an instant. “Okay. I’ve got it. What now?” 

Theo rose to his feet and offered you his hand. “Lead the way, diavolina. Show me how the chronically neurotic unwinds.”

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[sapphire-to-the-rain]

absolutely no one asked but my hair is getting so long and every single day i bask in the feeling of having long hair again. like it’s been over a year since i had hair this long that’s crazy!!!!! it’s like mid back length !!!!!!! is that not INSANE

[queenerdloser]

my dad: yeah i'll be there at 3:30p

me, like a normal person: gets ready & is all set to go by 3:30p literally on the dot.

my dad at 3:45p: sike i'll actually be there at 4:30p

me: great :) love this :)

[divinerapturesys]

Welcome to my Ted Talk about AsPD, or Antisocial Personality Disorder, which the internet likes to coin as sociopath 👌🏻 if you don’t like long infodumps about stigmatized mental disorders from someone who is diagnosed, move on.

Quick toxic rundown: People with AsPD are generally characterized as emotionless, violent, manipulative abusers who kill animals and like to make other people their bitches. The biggest pet peeve we have is the emotionless, sadistic and abusive generalization.

Personally, we are highly neurotic, with highs and lows of: depression, frantic drive, self abuse tactics, chronic fear, lapses of rejection, overwhelming over-analyzation, grey area thinking, false goods and false bads, ultimatums, obsessive compulsive behavior, harsh self demands, and irritability.

AsPD is a disorder that is caused primarily (according to current research) by trauma and abuse in childhood; most notably being emotional neglect and absent caregivers that cause a child to have emotional shutdowns and repression episodes in an attempt to self soothe. Primary caregivers who do not bond with their children are also a factor. Children learn how to behave from those around them. If a primary caregiver is emotionally distant and unavailable, children will learn that is normal behavior and that’s how people are. If a primary caregiver does not provide empathy and sympathy during moments of distress and fear, children will learn that aloofness and disregard of others feelings is normal behavior. If a primary caregiver does not keep a child safe, children will learn that they should not prioritize their own safety or the safety of others. You can find my follow up post regarding this here.

Neglected and abused children often act out trying to get attention and help, often acting out in bad ways because they lack the ability to articulate what they’re feeling and what is happening to them. The pipeline for AsPD typically is: Oppositional Defiance Disorder as a child, Conduct Disorder as a teen, AsPD as an adult. There are a lot of warning signs cueing that AsPD is becoming a risk for development, but often kids do not have a support system to help negate it as it’s their support system that is usually a factor in its creation.

Being AsPD is like being an emotional La Croix 70% of the time. If you’re depressed, then it’s like someone in the other room has depression and is telling you about it. The other 30% of the time, if you’re depressed, your brain doesn’t understand how to handle it so it’s an ultimatum between doing something drastic to remove the Trigger or ignoring and dissociating for days on end.

People with AsPD are very good at ignoring things. Honestly it’s problematic as fuck but it’s not hard to ignore major issues when you just, don’t care. It’s not in the terms of being cruel or making ourselves not care, but the fact that finding the emotional willpower is so far out of our feasible reach we don’t do it. This causes us to piss people off because we don’t have the capacity to care as much as they want us to, even if we can and do to an extent.

Think of it this way: empathy/sympathy is a deep tub of water that everyone has. They can easily fill their measuring cup for the needed amount of empathy without any issues and it’s easy for them. People with AsPD don’t have a tub of water. We have shallow skillet. When we try to dip our cup to fill it, we can’t, it always comes up short and it is difficult to get any water in it as there is no room for the cup to dive. Our ability to care is limited because we do not have the same emotional resources everyone else does.

❌ False Positives & False Negatives ❌

I operate on what I’ve learned are called false positives and false negatives. These are things that are trained into the brain from an early age based off of childhood trauma and other factors. False positives are a distorted version of why we do something to help ourself and for our own good, meanwhile a false negative is something we do because it’s a threat, or based out of fear.

❌ Some of my false positives:

- It is good to be afraid of nothing

- It is good to adapt to someone’s personality if they are stronger than you

- It is good to isolate yourself

- It is good to be a silver tongue because you can get into any place you want

- It is good to become a social chameleon and shape yourself to whatever those around you need/want most, because then you have no chance of being abandoned

❌ Some of my false negatives, which can explain the false positives as well as core beliefs:

- it is bad to be afraid, if I am afraid then I am vulnerable and it can be used against me

- It is bad to be emotional or show concern for others emotions because they do not care for mine

- It is bad to be able to be exploited, because I believe it is everywhere

- It is bad to allow myself to be bored, because boredom begets bad thoughts and no one can or wants to help me when I spiral

- It is bad to not shape yourself to the social circle, because people quickly grow tired of those who do not match them perfectly and being discarded means I failed

My core beliefs can be viewed as the root for the false positives and negatives, because they are based on the core of trauma, abuse and neglect. They come from patterns and instances that make someone with AsPD become the opposite of what they experienced:

- eat or be eaten

- If I don’t show that my bite is worse than my bark, I will be taken advantage of and I must remain on top because the ones on top are safe

- I must look out for myself because nobody will do it for me

- It doesn’t matter what happens to me, therefore it doesn’t matter what people think of me

- If I cannot do something well, then I should not do it at all

- If you are dependent on others for emotional and mental well being, you are weak, therefore I must isolate myself to avoid becoming codependent and a burden and useless

- If I can handle the stress of a situation better than everyone else, therefore I will keep the problem (financial, emotional, mental, etc) to myself to reduce chances of being abandoned due to failure of perfection

People with AsPD are hard to get along with. We often:

- are always anticipating a fight

- lack respect for authority

- ignore social structures to an extent

- tendency to lie if it’ll lessen punishment or if we feel the lie is more acceptable than our actions

- limit social support because it’s wrong to be dependent on others

- have an inflated view of our own importance — which turns into a self ridicule for believing someome like me could be found important to others —

- can be rude and inconsiderate of others feelings somewhat unintentionally

- are unable to read the correct social cues in relation to empathy towards people and animals

- am constantly confused by others dependence upon empathy and inability to make desicions from logic based standpoints

We can’t speak for everyone who has AsPD, nor are we saying that no one with AsPD is capable of being a murderer/abuser etc. but we are saying that y’all need to stop automatically classifying someone as a certain “type” as soon as you know about their disorder.

One last thing I do want to point out is that it is not uncommon for people with AsPD to derive some sort of enjoyment in causing harm, doing something illegal, hurting someone or animals, etc. This entirely stems from lack of environmental control as a child. Being able to control what happens to others or being able to control the things you say or do that hurts someone else is a hefty high to get addicted to; it soothes the underlying itch of not being able to control your own trauma and abuse, so in turn you push these behaviors onto others and enjoy it because it gives you a sense of power and control. Some people with AsPD do genuinely love hurting others, and some enjoy hurting others when they believe it’s deserved or their ire has been stoked. Some enjoy causing pain to those they think deserve it, and others don’t care who they hurt as long as they feel like they’re in control of the situation.

Hope this have some insight into AsPD 🤙🏻 if y’all have any questions, shoot.

[letters-to-rosie]

random Ekko thoughts

so I'm trying to get a little fic writing in, and I was thinking of some timebomb takes I've seen recently. I realized that a lot of opinions people have on their relationship and how it's depicted center around Jinx, and I was wondering what care people give towards writing Ekko, so here are some things I like to include when writing him:

perfectionist. Ekko, at least in League canon, goes back and forth over and over to craft a perfect moment. I think he'd be observant, detail-oriented, probably a little neurotic, definitely the type to replay an awkward interaction over and over in his head in the shower or before falling asleep

emotionally guarded. first, I gotta say I don't think Ekko would want to be this way. but he's been through so much he finds it useful to have walls up. it's not like all the toughness is a defense mechanism—he fights for what he believes in and is clearly very brave (who else makes hoverboards ffs). he does miss, though, the times and people that allowed him to be more vulnerable, and he treasures it when he has it. his childhood ended way too soon

chronic overthinker. this goes back to the perfectionism, but I think he'd constantly be questioning everything. he's good on his feet, but he likes to have a plan, and he'd tends to think about those for a long time

charismatic as hell. this one I think is proven by the show, lol. Ekko seems very personable, likes to haggle (at least as a kid), and is liked enough to lead a resistance movement. I think he'd make good speeches and be good at convincing people. this would, of course, cause drama with Jinx, because he'd be like "all these people believe in me and my former best friend doesn't," ow

drama. I like to give him a pretty dramatic inner monologue, lol. I also like to think he's self-aware enough to realize he's being dramatic in the moment and to then continue the drama anyway

enjoyer of thrills. hoverboard. need I say more?

childish and playful side. didn't get to have a full childhood and cherishes getting to let that side out. cue fluff

fidgeter. it preceded the tinkering

player of mind games. this is mostly based on how he treats Caitlyn and Vi after kidnapping them, putting them through what essentially amounts to tests (for, imo, understandable reasons). he also goads Jinx into a game he knows he'll be able to win. I think he'd apply this thinking to other scenarios, be they big or small

too-big sense of responsibility. would feed into the drama for sure. he feels the weight of his community on his shoulders, and because he wants things to go well, and because they're counting on him, he takes on a lot that he maybe should not

self-righteous. he strikes me as filled with righteous anger. he's right, most of the time. on the occasion he isn't, this causes problems

proud. wouldn't be a real issue in most situations, but it's there

irreverent. he flips off cops as a kid. we love him for this

smart. this is obvious, but sometimes can be forgotten in the fandom. I'd see Ekko as book-smart and having street-smarts (or at least a lot more than Jayce, but that's a low bar). I think his verbal skills would also be a bit more polished than some of the other science-inclined characters (cough cough Jinx). I think it's also notable that among the others (Jayce, Viktor, Heimerdinger, Jinx), Ekko is the main science character who has no access to proper schooling at any point. sure, he has his job with Benzo, but it's unclear how much that would have taught him. Silco probably got at least books for Jinx, and the others had real teachers. there's an element of resourcefulness in Ekko's smarts which is laudable, imo

very dorky. we love a man with range. I feel like he would be able to operate on multiple levels, one in which he's this cool charismatic leader and another when you get to know him better, who makes science puns and has a lot of insecurities, which naturally leave him replaying awkward conversations in the shower. layers!

idealistic. you have to give people what they need to live

heart of gold. one thing that always strikes me is that Ekko is really the only member of the main cast concerned enough with the plight of the average person in Zaun to make it his whole business. he's tending to the crisis in a way that is simultaneously very grounded and (again) idealistic, where substance use recovery is very much needed in the setting but he's also (perhaps in contrast to Vander) throwing himself into battles that are unsustainable because he believes in his cause, even if the persecution is so bad he has to hide over it

disaster bi (this one is for me)

Ekko's a really layered and interesting character. I wanted to bring up some things I think about when writing him because of posts I've seen recently about him being reduced to "Jinx's boyfriend" (due to anti-black racism, of course) and posts just kinda about timebomb in general? I think because it's been canon that Ekko has a crush of Jinx for so long, it's easy to take that for granted and not give much thought to his side of the ship. we also spend a lot more time in Jinx's head than his in the show, even though the brief moment we do spend in his head introduces a whole new art style and the best song on the soundtrack (fight me)

obviously, I'm a shameless Ekko and Firelights stan. he's my favorite character in Arcane and one of my favorites in anything ever, so it was fun to flesh out my headcanons, things I think are extrapolatable from canon, and just some of the traits that go into writing him. if people have others (or just traits and things they think are interesting) I'd love to hear them! I love my brilliant and contradictory boy!

[bodhrancomedy]

A Heist is When You Steal Things by Bodhrán M

Elevator Pitch

If your best friend had died a pointless, premature death, would you do everything in your power to fulfil their last wish? Even if their last wish is to have their painting of a pigeon and a chicken jousting hung up in the Scottish National Gallery? That’s a question a neurotic, struggling stagehand will have to grapple with in “A Heist is When You Steal Things”. He gathers a crew of similarly displaced art school graduates – an easily distracted Deaf dancer, a chronically method actor, and an increasingly bewildered camerawoman – to engineer a ‘reverse heist’ in Edinburgh’s National and put the painting in pride of place without ending up in jail. As each failed, documented attempt brings media coverage to the “Edinburgh Four” and their plans and relationships become more convoluted, the story builds to a desperate game of hide-and-seek from the police within the gallery where the stagehand must confront himself and truly admit his reasons for this fool’s quest to atone. It’s What We Do in the Shadows meets Ocean’s Eleven, a Scottish dark comedy about art and grief.

[lightningant]

Welcome to my sideblog. I write story and draw Tom

My Fics

A Rare Red Herring

Gen, OC fic, Dumbledore family slice of life Aberforth Dumbledore is living a quiet life in Hogsmeade until he receives a very alarming owl; he is the closest relative of 7-year-old Harrington Maguire, his muggleborn great-great-granddaughter, who is being given up due to the unique needs of a young autistic witch. He hasn’t looked after a child in over 50 years, and so the uneasy relationships between the Dumbledore family are brought together to raise a single unlucky girl.

Venom or Valor

Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, time travel, enemies-to-lovers classique

20 years old, unemployed, and at the worst point of his life (and that’s saying a lot), Harry gains unrestricted access to a massive unfinished time turner and decides to use it to travel to 1946, when Voldemort only had two horcruxes and had yet to learn the worst of the dark arts. But what he finds isn’t the proud, charismatic Dark-Lord-To-Be, but a neurotic 19-year-old Tom Riddle living quietly in the tiny flat that his retail job barely pays for, isolated and addled by chronic illness.

And the Kitchen Sink

Harry Potter/Voldemort, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Harry makes a horcrux clonebaby and marries it off

In the throes of potion-induced despair, Dumbledore informs Harry of his horcrux status. Harry can’t stomach what it would take to kill Voldemort once and for all, so he’s decided to escape the prophecy through some Unspeakable means. - “So you don’t want him to be physically attracted to it at all?” Neal frowned at Harry. “Wish you told me that before we started.”

Blog Tags

For fics: Herringfic | VoV | HomuncuHarry

Art Topics: Mersnake AU | Tom Design Docs

General: My Art | Metaposting | Asks | HPRB (Reblogs)

[donnerpartyofone]

Tumblr is a funny thing because I think we each have some kind of generality about the character of this platform that we assume is universal, which it really isn't. The other day someone I follow said something about this being the social media site where everyone has tech jobs, and I thought Oh huh, I thought this was the chronic unemployment website! Then I saw a post where someone was saying that she didn't believe that anybody REALLY ruminates on embarrassing experiences forever, she thinks that's a completely made-up unrealistic emo pose and in real life everyone just gets over all their shit in a matter or days or weeks, and several of that person's followers piled on in agreement, and I was like...I mean not only is neurotic ruminating a real and common mental problem, but I definitely thought "everyone on Tumblr" ruminates on their humiliating experiences forever! I thought this was the clinical depression and generalized anxiety disorder website.

But anyway this thing happens where you join Tumblr and you follow whoever looks good to you, and then after seeing that cohort's reblogs and interactions with strangers for a while, you can start to forget that almost everything you see is in some way triggered by your own editorial choices, even if indirectly. It can start to feel like what's on your dash is "everything", it is representative of the entire usership of Tumblr. And then one day you find yourself criticizing this conceptual monolith you created, and you start using that hostile, performative Tumblr "y'all" to address the crimes of a mass of people who you imagine to be simultaneously a) attentively following your blog, and b) in opposition to everything you stand for. You think to yourself People on Tumblr are fucking crazy, why are they all like this?, forgetting entirely that the whole thing is chiefly defined by your choices and you are in no way experiencing objective reality.

This diatribe has been brought to you by a blazed post I just saw featuring a wedding photo of a guy in USMC dress blues, where the guy is saying that he wants to make Taylor Swift say hi to his wife for their 10th anniversary but he doesn't know how to get in touch with her, so he has come to Tumblr where he thinks there are people who know how to get the most famous person on the Planet of Earth to do personal favors for randos. This was so divorced from the reality I'm familiar with on every single level, I just sat there staring at the post for minutes trying to pick a reaction to it. And then after that I saw another blazed post of a girl taking a selfie in a fancy hotel, and I found that her entire blog was just stock photos of hot rich people gently making out in luxury settings. And I remembered, ah yes. This, too, is Tumblr.

[teatitty]

This will not make any sense to anyone who does not religiously follow my Iruka posts but I woke up with the vivid idea of Iruka offhandedly telling Kurenai not to burden herself with his health problems [the chronic back pain] and Kurenai getting so mad about this she tugs his hair to make him look at her and asks if he thinks it's a burden when Kakashi gets migraines. Is it a burden when he has to lay down flat and hold a press over his eye because it throbs so harshly? Is it a burden when Gai's neurotic hyper energy goes too far, and we have to remind him of an inside voice? Is it a burden when we help one another out of the hospital? When Asuma got injured on a mission and needed help limping back?

And Iruka can't say anything to this because no, he doesn't see any of that as a burden he can only say "That's different" without being able to explain why and then Kurenai hits him with "We're friends, Iruka. You could be missing half your limbs and I'd still be in your life." Iruka, of course, doesn't know how to deal with that either, outside of getting irritated and bothered and shrugging her off so he can leave only to feel like an arsehole when he gets back home

He feels so bad about it, in fact, that next time he sees Kurenai he drops off some takowasa for her to eat and awkwardly accepts her invitation to sit at the table with her. He gets better about accepting her help after that

[quicktimeeventfull]

People always characterize Light as neurotic, do you think that they are ignoring L's neuroses or is he just normal?

this is such a good question and also it gives me a chance to talk about my favourite subject on earth: L being neurotic.

SO the short answer is: no, he’s not normal. (or, well, it’s hard to say how many neuroses are normal to have when your life is constantly being threatened by a faceless god, but probably fewer than these.)

my personal read on L is that he tries very, very hard to pretend he’s deeply unaffected by everything that’s going on around him, but he fairly clearly is not. case in point: we can see him calmly discussing his own death after he’s just collapsed off his chair. his eyes are hidden, which is death note’s main signal that someone is hiding their true feelings. 

to me, his desperation to hide that he’s got any sort of feelings about anything speaks to an underlying terror of being perceived and/or taking up other people’s emotional space. he doesn’t want to be seen as human. he doesn’t want to be dealt with as anything but this faceless creature. he wants to be a tool and a resource before he’s a person. 

he is in a unique situation, but i do feel it goes above and beyond what is necessary and also is not strategically useful, since it infuriates literally everyone in the task force apart from soichiro. even watari tells him off for it. it’s not even a trait he values — after aizawa has his outburst, L tells him he likes people like him. i think it’s something he feels he has to do for nebulous reasons. maybe he knows why! maybe he doesn’t! 

i also (& possibly this is a hot take) think L is a chronic people-pleaser. he’s always extremely polite-verging-on-deferent. with a few exceptions that derive from high emotion and danger, he’s polite to people regardless of how rudely they speak to him. there are several points in death note where people are outright yelling at him, and he always responds quietly and politely.

he also folds to the task force at a few crucial points, most notably when they demands he remove the handcuffs and let light walk free.

it’s clear from both his expression and the fact that he does not in any way give up on light being kira that he thinks this is a terrible idea, but he lets him go anyway and apologizes as he signs his own death warrant.

ALSO ok sorry this is already long but i think i would be remiss to talk about L’s neuroticism without also talking about his ✨trauma.✨ it’s never really clear what happened to L prior to the events of death note, but i think we can logically surmise that it wasn’t ideal. he grew up in an orphanage, which is traumatic in and of itself, and clearly something happened to create a situation where this was possible — either his guardians died, or were in some way incapacitated, or he was removed from them.

then there’s the fact of his job. L’s age is ambiguous in the main canon & 24 if you choose to incorporate htr13 — either way, he’s quite young, and he’s already been solving cases for years. we don’t know what exactly the cases were, but i think it’s fairly safe to say that they weren’t pleasant. i feel very strongly that this would impact the way you see people and what sort of behaviour you expect from them. even people who enter similar fields as adults, with proper support systems and the inculcation of years of seeing people behave compassionately towards one another, often end up jaded and distrustful. it burns you out and wrecks havoc on your empathy. 

also during the course of death note he’s been inside for nearly a year, speaking to a grand total of eleven people, one of whom wants to murder him, which is maybe not like the ideal scenario for one’s mental health. imo this & the constant stress of being murdered do contribute to his increasingly erratic behaviour as the series progresses. which is to say: PROVIDE ENRICHMENT FOR YOUR DETECTIVES if you don't want them to develop codependent relationships with their serial killer bffs.

[stephenjaymorrisblog]

Between Narcissism and Altruism

Stephen Jay Morris

3/28/2024

©Scientific Morality

            The voices in my head clutter up the canyons of my mind. “Don’t be a victim!” “Man up!” “Do it yourself!” “Get off my lawn!” “What are you looking at?” “Be a man!” “Ring, ring on the telephone!” “Monday is the deadline!” “Don’t be so selfish!” “You’ve got to think about yourself sometimes!” “Oh! My Bob!” Shut the fuck up! SHUT UP!

            I do care. I really do. When women and children are starving to death, being maimed, and killed by weapons of war, and you express that emotion, most conservatives say, “Why don’t you adopt them and have them sleep in your garage!” Most conservatives are narcissists. Certain political ideologies attract those with personality disorders. Sociopaths make personal liberty into malignant selfishness. That sentiment ranges from libertarians to Paleo-conservatives: Me first, my family second, and my country on third base.

            Oh, those on the left, on the other hand, are neurotic, clinically depressed, anal retentive, and emotionally wrecked. At one point, some smart-ass yells out, “The whole world is fucked up!” To which I reply, “No. Just you.”

            You know what is acceptable? To hate people and despise the world. But if you declare, “I hate the Irish!”—Watch out! You’re a bigot! If you hate the world, you are seen as a prophet from God. Is it acceptable to hate all except for one group of people? If you hate all countries, then you are an Anarchist terrorist. However, if you love America, but hate all other countries, you are a Patriot!

So, let’s review: Collective hatred is just fine. Specific hatred for a particular race is unacceptable. Why is that? I’ll tell you, boobie: On the left, there is the belief of international solidarity. On the right, it’s tribalism. Stick to your own kind.

            Now the main problem with the right is this gigantic contradiction: Individualism versus National pride. You remember that lunatic, Ayn Rand? Not only was she an atheist, but she believed that the rights of the individual triumphed over loyalty to their country. AKA: dying for your country is a sucker’s game. So, do you put your personal liberty over loyalty to your country? According to Ayn Rand, you put yourself over the state.

            Where do I stand politically? Does it matter? I realized, over the years, that I am not special. I try my best to be a good person. Now, in America, selfish people outnumber the good. You need a magnifying glass to find them. Morality does not come from a compass; it comes from the conjunction of your left brain and your right brain. Once you fine tune it, then you are in business.

            When I was young, my priority was to save the Vietnamese people from the American bombers destroying their homeland. Every night, the news gave up the death tolls while we ate our T.V. dinners. So, we protested and got arrested. It was better than going to the high school football game! I think and feel that we did the right thing.

            Now, Israel’s Likud Party is running a near six-month campaign of committing genocide on innocent Palestinian men, women, and children in Gaza. What can I do? Protest? Write a letter to my congressman? Bomb a building? I don’t care if you think this is a major copout, but I am tired, I suffer from comorbidity ailments, and I have chronic pain in various parts of my body. As such, I do nothing. The young people are managing just fine without me.

If I knew I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself. I am 70.

[galaxyedging]

Lucien Flores (that's just his name now)x f!reader.

Part of the Exposed Masterlist

Warnings: talk of anxiety, descriptions of an anxiety attack, sexting, mutual masturbation, erectile dysfunction.

Summary: Things between you and Lucien progress but not to the point he was hoping for.

WC:3.2k

Cat-us Interruptus

Good Morning. 

The little green line steadily blinking after the words held him in a trance as he rethought sending a message. Would he come off as desperate? After last night he felt like he should say something. He didn't want you to get the impression that this new thing was just about sex for him. For the first time in a very long time he felt a connection to someone. Truth be told he hadn't felt this rush since his first love in high-school. They were together until his mid-twenties, after that he hadn't found that same feeling with anyone. Now you're here and everything feels easy and natural when you are around. Even when he's overthinking. He gets a sense of calm from you. From that spark that lights up the room. It burns through his insecurities. We'll, not all of them obviously or he wouldn't have typed and deleted the same two words over and over in the last five minutes.

A message appeared in the chat below his unsent one.

Good Morning.😁

Shit. Now he had to reply. The message will show as read. While he mildly panicked, another message came through. 

I saw you were typing for quite a while. I figured you were typing and deleting like I was. Then I remembered how comfortable I feel with you and hit send.

Fuck. He liked you. Lucien had always felt like two people. He could be bold and confident in his work and in certain social situations, but when it came to anything too personal or close to home, he was a neurotic mess. You had bridged that gap between those people. Not by blurring the lines between business and pleasure. There was something about you that relaxed him enough to merge those two halves.

Yeah I was. I like you. I don't want you to think I'm just interested in sex or to further my work. I wanted to say good morning but I didn't want to come off as desperate or needy.

Thank you for being honest. Next time just tell me that. I'm a chronic over-explainer. I need to feel that people understand me. Not so much with you because you make me feel safe. Which is stupid because we've known each other for like a week but it's true. 

He felt that. It was so weird how strongly he felt for a relative stranger.

Same. I feel safe with you. I enjoy your company. Maybe after the project we can go on a date?

After he sent it, he regretted it. What if he just blew his art project as well as his shot with you?

Why wait? It's just sex that's off the table. It doesn't mean we can't go on a date, does it?

Just tell me. She seems to like honesty in all its forms.

No, it doesn't, but spending more time with you will make the whole thing more difficult. 

Yeah. I get that. Sex is off the table. How about a little mutual masturbation to take the edge off?

Lucien's cock stirred under his sheets. He needed to breathe. To be honest.

When you get here? That could affect the energy for the shoot.

I was thinking more now? Do you have time?

I do. Just give me one minute.

Lucien flew from his bed. Almost tripping on his sheets. He opened his studio window, put food out for Claude's return, washed his hands, and dove back into bed in some sort of record time.

I'm back.

Good. I may have started without you.

I'm sorry I missed that. What are you doing?

I took off my clothes and started playing with my tits. I've really missed someone paying them attention.

I would pay them so much attention. I already do when you're not looking. Sorry.😝

Naughty boy! I've totally seen you.😆 You're not that slick. I appreciate you trying, though. 

I was already asking to take pictures of you masturbating. I didn't want to seem like a total creep.

Good call. Are you touching yourself?

Yes. I'm just coating myself in lube.

So you're nice and hard for me? I felt you the other day. How hard and big you were. I kept thinking about it.

So hard for you. I keep thinking about you coming apart for me.

That was so good. Your voice. Knowing you were watching me. I wanted to come hard for you. 

And you did. You were so good for me. Want are you doing now?

Circling my clit. Wishing it was you. You?

Pumping my cock. Wishing it was you.

When we can be together, how do you want me? 

I thought about fucking you over my desk but I want to be able to see you. Your pretty face. Those tits.

Maybe I should ride you. You could see and touch everything.

I'd like that. The thought of you bouncing  on my cock while I fuck up into you. Would you like that?

Yes.

Are you nice and wet now? Still circling  your clit or…?

I was. All this talk of riding you. I'm going to ride my huge dildo while I play with my clit.

A photo came through underneath. The dildo looked to only be slightly bigger than him. Pride swelled in him at you think of it as huge. Then he thought about how well you could take him. He'd been stroking his cock at a leisurely pace but the thought of you sinking down onto that toy while it spread you open had his hand moving faster.

I bet you look so good riding it.

You can see for yourself at the end of the week.

I changed my mind. I'll have to bend you over and fuck you. Hard. For being such a tease.

Jokes on you. I'd like that. How are you touching yourself now?

Faster. Big long stroke and sweeps across the tip. Are you still playing with your clit?

Yes. Not as much. I've switched hands to type. I'm riding my dildo hard. Thinking of you.

Instead of typing, why don't we send one last message to get each other there then start texting again when we are done?

Sounds good. Anything in particular you want?

Can you take the picture of your tit again but with better lighting?

Are you always on the job? 

I'm a consummate professional. What would you like? 

After you cum could you send me a picture of it? Wherever it lands. 

Of my cum?

Yes.

Sure.

Thank you. I hope this passes your professional standards.

The photo underneath was more than he expected. Instead of a less grainy picture of one partially covered tit. You'd sent a picture of both of them fully uncensored. Your nipples hard and begging for attention. He thought about sucking on them as he worked you to orgasm on his fingers. That was it for him. The cum you wanted a picture of shot up his stomach. When he could think again, he took a picture to send to you.

A few minutes later, a voice note came through.

"I wish that cum was splashed over me. I can't wait to finally….oh…I'm almost there. Oh. Shit. Lucien. Lucien. Oh, god."

Breathy moans punctuated your sentences. He could hear how wet you were. It was the hottest thing Lucien had ever heard. After a few more minutes, another message came through.

Was that good for you too?

So fucking good. Are we good?

What do you mean?

No post horniness regrets?

Nope. Whatever it is we're doing, I like it. I like you.

Me too. Maybe before tonight's shoot we can get takeout? Watch a movie?

I'd like that. I've got to go to work for a few hours but I'll see you tonight. 6?

6 is perfect. See you soon.x

The cum on his stomach started to cool and feel uncomfortable. Part of him wanted to wear it like a badge of honor. A beautiful, smart, confident woman helped him get off. She wants to fuck him so bad that they sexted. He had her pretty tits and the sounds of her orgasm on his phone. Which he would delete just in case. He didn't want to be accidentally responsible for them being seen and heard by anyone else. After committing them to memory, that's what he did before taking a shower and jerking off again.

The day passed pretty quickly. Claude leapt through the window around lunch, just as Lucien was thinking of taking a break from his chores. The cat must have sensed something was on Lucien's mind as he came to sit on his lap as he ate his sandwiches. 

"Yeah, you know I'm in trouble too, huh?" The cat just purred as Lucien scratched his head.

"The longest stable relationship I've had in years has been with you and you come and go as you please. I want this to go well. Wait until you meet her. You're good at reading people. You'll see, she's just…special." He caught how wistful he sounded. "And I'm a loser talking to his mostly indifferent cat."

With that Claude hopped off of Lucien's lap to bask in the sun warming the rug in the middle of the room. 

"This smells amazing! Do you eat from here often?" You savoured the scents coming from the takeout boxes.

Lucien settled back into the sofa next to you after opening them all up. "I try not to too much. I like to keep in the habit of cooking so I don't get lazy. How about you? Do you cook?" 

"I try to be good and make good choices. I batch cook when I can but I would happily live on pizza if I could."

"There's an amazing pizza place a few blocks down. Iannucci's? We should try it next time."

Before Lucien could cringe too much about assuming there would be a next time. You simple reply. "We should."

"So what movie do you want to watch?"

"I don't know. What kind of movies do you like?"

"I've been working my way through the action movies on Disney plus. Air Force One is up next."

"Air Force One? Die Hard on a plane? Really?"

"Really. Why?"

"Nothing. That's not what I expected an artist to be watching. I know! I know! I shouldn't stereotype. It was a stupid thought!"

"It's okay. I'm a little surprised you know what Die Hard is. I thought you'd only watch Erin Brockovich, Legally Blonde…"

"I get it. Thank you."

"....Devil's Advocate, A Few Good Men."

"Point made. Now shut up before I make you." You nudged his arm with yours.

"Oh yeah? How?" A smirk tugged at his lips as his eyes locked with yours in a challenge.

"We ordered enough egg rolls to do the trick or…" Lucien didn't miss how your eyes flickered to his lips.

"Or…?" His thought was answered by your lips. 

How had he forgotten how soft they were? They invited him closer. His hands travelled to your waist as yours came up around his neck. The kiss was slow, your lips took the time to get acquainted with the curves of each other, instead of frantically mashing together like last time. The hands that you had both placed in relatively safe place began to get bold, sliding along clothed skin, sliding until…"Meow!"

"Shit!" You nearly headbutted Lucien in shock. "Sorry, I forgot you had a cat." 

"To be fair. I don't really 'have' a cat. A cat turns up and eats here. He's not the most…" Claude came over and jumped straight into your lap. "....affectionate…but he has his moments. He seems to like you." Claude was purring as you stroked him. 

"The feeling is mutual. I'm not normally a cat person. I'm allergic for one and I don't like their fur getting everywhere. This guy though." To Lucien's surprise you cuddle Claude closer and the cat lets you. "No problems there."

Seeing the smile on your face as you cuddled the cat was almost worth the feline interruption. "Do you wanna watch the movie?"

"Sure." With Claude on your lap you finished your food. Feeding him little bits that Lucien said were okay. 

Once you were all finished eating, Lucien moved your plates. Still with Claude on your lap Lucien pulled you close. His arm remained around you for the rest of the movie. Your body relaxed into him more and more until your heart rested on his chest. His hand came up to play with your hair during the climax of the movie. As the good guys rejoiced, a warmth spread through Lucien's chest. This was all so domestic. 

It was what he craved during quarantine when he saw others spending time with their loved ones. His parents had retired back home to Bolivia. Most of his family were there, save his brother in Chicago. His friends all had partners or families of their own. He hadn't been short of invitations, but it felt wrong to impose on his friends for who knows how long. It turned out to be a long time, considering his health condition. Even if he had stayed with them, he'd just be borrowing a family rather than having one of his own. 

Sitting there with you in his arms all the possibilities scrolled through his mind as the credits scrolled the screen. The comfortable warmth of you next to him slowly started to become too much. The pleasantly full feeling in his stomach started to feel like a lead weight. Pins and needles crept up from his feet. He needed to get up, he needed to move. 

"Sorry. I have to use the bathroom." He gave you a tight smile as he excused himself.

In the privacy of the bathroom, he tried to calm himself. He held a cool flannel to his face. He willed all the irrational bullshit to stop pushing at his mind and affecting his body. He lost track of time as he stood there. He felt trapped. He couldn't stay here and ignore you but he couldn't face you either. If he stayed you might think he had some sort of intestinal situation. If he left you'd see the state of him. A grown man haunted by things that were yet to happen. Things that may never happen. He might not let you down. You might not even give you the chance. Especially if you thought he was currently stuck on the toilet after a bad meal. No, you weren't that shallow. You were caring. You were nice. You were…knocking at the door.

"Lucien? Are you alright?" 

"Yeah. I'll be out in a minute. Er, thanks."

"Sure."

When your footstep receded, Lucien took a few more minutes before he came out to find you. The coffee table was now clear of boxes, Claude was stretched on the sofa alone. Some song that he couldn't quite catch, possibly Rihanna, came from the other side of the screen he'd pulled across to section of his studio from his small living space. Moving around it, he found you washing the dishes, your hips swaying to You Da One. 

"Sorry. Doing dishes bores the hell out of me. I always prefer a little music. How are you?"

"You really didn't have to do these."

"I wanted to. I'm a good house guest." You jutted your chin out proudly. He wanted to press a kiss to it.

"Well, thank you. And I'm fine, just a headache."

"I told you about my husband lying to me, didn't I?" You carried on working as you spoke. Like the words didn't have enough weight for you to make you pause. "I get it if you don't feel comfortable telling me personal stuff, but I'd rather you say that than lie."

How did you do that? Just completely bare yourself for him. This was the truth that he was looking for in his art. It was almost the truth he had given you apart from one thing. "I had a minor…um…anxiety attack."

"Oh. Do you know what triggered it? Do you want me to give you some space?"

Lucien just blinked at you. "What?"

"Nothing. That just wasn't the reaction I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"I don't know. I had a similar rough patch as a teen. I was told to grow up. Man up. This time around, apart from my doctor, I haven't told anyone."

"Except me. Thank you."

"I should be thanking you."

Lucien's hand threaded into yours. His hooded gaze heated you up from the inside out. This connection between you was growing by the second. Not only was he incredibly sexy, funny, sweet, interesting, he was open and honest too. Nothing like your ex-fiance. The end of the week, when you could finally sleep with him, couldn't come fast enough. Even though you'd barely known him a week, you had the sexual tension of a 'will they/won't they couple' in the fourth season.

You had to say something before the tension suffocated you. "Do you want to move on to the shoot now?"

"To be honest right now I couldn't give a damn about my art. I want you." Things clattered to the floor as Lucien's broad frame crowded you into the counter. He lifted you back up onto it while trying to always keep his lips in contact with yours. He succeeded for the most part until he chose to connect his lips somewhere else. They made light contact with your neck before meeting the soft exposed flesh of your cleavage. His tongue darted out to lap in between. "What were you saying about missing someone paying attention to these? Can I?"

When you nodded you found yourself stripped to the waist. Two large, nimble hands tweaked your nipple to peaks as they massaged the flesh around them. Soft lips pressed kisses all over before sealing around each nipple it turns to suck gently. The warmth of his mouth along with the perfect amount of pressure had you woefully aroused in moments. The man could do anything he wanted to to you in that moment and you would thank him for it. 

"Bedroom?" The word managed to croak out of your dry throat. 

With a grin on his face Lucien led the way. Somewhere along the way his shirt was lost. When you got him onto his bed he was only in those damned tight jeans.

"Can I?" When he nodded you made quick work of his belt and fly to drag the jeans down his hips.

His boxers soon followed revealing his semi hard length. It was as pretty as the rest of him and you eagerly welcomed it into the warmth of your mouth. Your tongue ran over the soft flesh, you sucked lightly on it then a little harder but….nothing. He wasn't reacting to your touch at all. "Are you alright?"

"Fuck. Sorry. This hasn't happened before. I…" He rolled away from you to tuck away his soft cock.

"It's okay. It's probably just the anxiety. Those attacks leave you drained. It's fine." Your thumbed rubbed circles on his thigh.

That action from a beautiful woman alone would usually have him hard as a rock. He wanted to believe your words but the anxiety talking over them was too loud for him to truly take them in. He'd fuck this up before it began. All his big talk of fucking you hard and he couldn't deliver. He couldn't even get it up. You were so gorgeous but his body refused to reflect his attraction.

"You're right. I should get some sleep." His tone was brisk.

"Alright. Call me tomorrow?"

"Of course." He pressed a kiss to your temple as you climbed off the bed.

"You rest. I'll see myself out." Straightening your clothes, you left his room to find the rest of them and head out.

Lucien didn't call you the next day. He fired off a quick text, telling you he was fine, but he was busy with his other job. A half truth. He wasn't fine, but hopefully, throwing himself into his work would get him there. They had a stand-alone episode slated to record tomorrow. Lucien decided to change it for a small arc. It was a tight time frame, he'd have to get it done before lunch to run it by the writers. The story flowed easily enough. It was done by the time Claude returned for his nap in the midday sun. The story boards were approved by the writers. They loved it. 'A bold take, on some sensitive issues', 'This is what our fans came for.'

It should have helped. It did to a certain extent. He felt a little better. After he let Claude out for the night, had an early night. Thinking of you in his bed, his cock began to stir. A free porn video later and he was coming to the thought of you underneath him.

With his head clearer, he could see that, in his excitement, he was putting way too much pressure on this thing between you. You were smart and understanding. This could be worked through. All he had to do was call you. Easy. Just call. Instead, he tossed his phone, cleaned himself, and spent a sleepless night in his bed. Alone.

@kirsteng42 @prolix-yuy @thegreenkid2 @hquinzelle @fangirl-316 @gracie7209 @jedifarmerr @doommommy @scorpio-marionette @sturkillerbase @harriedandharassed @aynsleywalker @mswarriorbabe80 @quica-quica-quica @rise-my-angel @adancedivasmom @kinda-nobody @movievillainess721 @munsonownsmyass @mandoloriancookie @faceache111 @elegantduckturtle @manazo @simpingcowboy @pedrit0-pascalit0 @yourcoolauntie @pedrostories @geekrenaissance

[local-hellhound-steals-spaghetti]

We can all agree that doodles are often poorly bred because a lot of people are breeding them for profit rather than passion for preserving a breed.

But wow am I tired of seeing the same “hot take but doodles suck and are ugly lol” post over and over. It’s big on Tiktok too and it’s so petty and immature and people act like purebred dogs aren’t a mix of various breeds that was refined into a standard over years of selective breeding. Every “pure bred” dog was a mutt at some point.

People like doodles. Yes it’s trendy, yes doodle people can suck (especially about grooming) and yes they’re probably a poor fit for some people but they’re not going anywhere. They’re great little dogs and they seem to be fitting into families pretty well, regardless.

Considering that the average person with a dog is probably not using that dog for it’s breed’s intended purpose, why can’t we move towards selectively breeding dogs for the purposes of living in homes? Doodles seem to be what that is. The dog that’s social, cuddly, energetic and doesn’t majorly shed (which makes them more appealing as an indoor dog for people who hate fur everywhere)

To clarify, I’m not saying the mass production of doodles via puppy farms and the irresponsible breeding of backyard breeder doodles is okay. But to me I just feel like there’s such an intense hatred of doodles from purebred fanatics that seems so unwarranted.

I used to be a dog groomer so I get that a lot of the doodles are neurotic - and same with the nuts people that demand you brush out their severely matted Cavoodle and lose their shit when you shave the mats off so the poor dog can move properly again!

But damn it’s not as if other breeds aren’t like that at all! I’ve met many poorly bred purebred dogs that had major anxiety issues, genetic disorders ect.

Doodles can be great little dogs. And there’s a standard being developed for the Cobberdog here in Australia which is a doodle mixed with a bunch of other breeds to create a low shed, fleecy fur dog (great for sensory issues), moderate energy, handler focused dog for assistance dog work. There are breeders that are producing really solid dogs with mixes like these.

And to the people that say - “just get a poodle” for assistance or therapy dog work - they are great but they do have high energy needs and that’s hard for bad mental health days or chronic illness flare ups. I love poodles but I have a sighthound because my mental health can’t deal with a high energy needs dog.

Tbh the main issue is the lax regulation around breeding dogs, especially when it comes to puppy farms and backyard breeding, and the lack of standard, health testing ect. Which is not the fault of the dogs that are just. Existing.

[natroze]

Two independent friends of the bride* both told me they found me intimidating??? From my perspective I am terminally awkward, generally neurotic, and suffer chronically from “just a little guy” syndrome, where do we find intimidating in there???

[viperwhispered]

30 days of twst challenge - day 23: Who do you most relate to?

I mean, I have kinda touched on this earlier in the fave post… But Jamil. No question.

And since this got long (oops), I'm gonna put this behind a readmore.

Now, I feel like I should add the caveat that I’m kinda straitlaced and certainly not as much of a schemer as Jamil is. On the other hand, I did actually have a normal childhood, so… Who knows where I would’ve ended up in his shoes.

But even just seeing the constant worrying and planning and prepping in the Scalding Sands event, which was my first proper introduction to him, was very relatable. I am a planner, through and through, thinking of what’s coming next. Sure, I’d like to think I’m slightly less neurotic, but you’ll have to ask someone else than me about how true that actually is.

And then there was the overblot, and just… Yeah. Like, I totally got it why the constant holding back would get to him. Personally, I would absolutely hate something like that, not being recognized and not being allowed to compete fully and show my all. (I mean yeah there’s more to it, especially with the jp version, but this angle is what resonated with me.)

Also on a less conscious level, for a few years now my husband has been dealing with a chronic illness that limits him quite a bit. A lot of the running of the household is left to me by necessity, as well as managing husband’s things too, and just worrying about him. And like, I can’t help but see the parallels here (which, in hindsight sure are very obvious, even if it took me a while to see them). And I definitely sometimes also dream of just going away just by myself, not having to worry about anyone else but myself.

Also like, with the snarky post-overblot Jamil, it is very much possible he is sometimes saying things similar to what I might be thinking, but choosing to hold back. Because I too sometimes find myself exasperated with people who just don’t get it or who are more chaos than order.

Just, I do generally prefer trying to be nice about it instead.

Also like, the way Jamil tends to think he has to be the one doing things, and believes he’ll be the one who can get it done? Yeah I can definitely see echoes of that in myself too. Both in a healthy self-confidence way and in an unhealthy “gotta keep everything in my hands” / get involved with everything way (definitely something I’m working on). Because for some reason there’s a part of me that thinks I could fix basically everything - or that I have to be the one doing so. Totally a sensible mindset and all.

Which could also lead to talking about hyper-independence, which, uhh, again a bit of a mood. Tho honestly I’m not sure how many good examples of the characters actually relying on others we have in this game anyway so… (Alright Diasomnia and the Shrouds and Vil & Rook seem to be more or less decent about this, at least.)

It’s just, there’s a lot reflected here, some things more clearly than others, but with Jamil its just really feels easy for me to get the whys of what he does. Like I can’t pretend I can truly put myself in his shoes, considering his particular brand of traumatic upbringing and the way it’s warped his way of seeing the world (those with the power and those without, aka masters and servants), but there is just a lot that resonates.

[apthotiosis]

heyyy i see people offering you etoiles thoughts and unfortunately i don't have any that others haven't already said but i DO have Phil thoughts that i think you might appreciate ;3;

today i am thinking about how easily phil suffocates when there's nothing to do. it's not that he thrives under pressure, exactly, he definitely suffers when he's too stressed or chronically in danger, but he's built to Do something. he finds a problem and he observes and he tries to solve it: searching for Federation bases and the end of the train tracks, building Uppies in case his eggs need to hide, throwing himself into purgatory strategies. (in hc!Phil who's not constantly in danger we see him pushing himself with new and ever-growing projects mhm?)

and then when he can't do anything to Solve the problem he still has to Do something yknow? I don't think he ever expected results from lavacasting Fed headquarters, but he couldn't just sit there. He checked the anomalies for messages from his eggs obsessively even though it didn't get him anywhere any faster. He does dungeons with Etoiles to distract himself while the eggs are gone.

I think that's why the birdhouse/early EK stuff got to him so badly--he couldn't do Anything, he was only the object of other entities' actions. He starts to doubt his own convictions and agency after the birdhouse and he's a shell of himself.

anyway i'm also thinking about this because i think it's why i've found that Phil absolutely does not thrive when i put him in a modern AU. he is Not designed to have problems in a society where he has so little ability to control his environment. he has to be able to become a supervillain about it or have the weirdest hobbies imaginable otherwise he somehow gets even more anxious/depressed/neurotic than on regular QSMP. i put him in the suburbs and he starts chewing his own leg off like a fox in a trap.

thank you for coming to my ted talk i hope it was worth it but at the end of the day i just needed to say the words and thought you were most likely to enjoy them

*chant* sprout sprout sprout sprout !!!! banger of a ted talk ! i enjoyed it so very much (*¯︶¯*) phil thoughts are always just as welcome as etoiles thoughts . any and all thoughts r welcome @u@ im just not used to getting them direct to my inbox lmao

espeeecially with hc phil now going for the deep dark but making a massive project in itself , having his huge escape route (tho he did finish if sooner than he thought which , nice , but also sir , you can just set up in the cavern and have an escape tunnel down there.. but noooooo he had to bore his way to the surface -_-) . has to do something has to get the energy out , before during or after the stressful shit . the egg portraits near capitalist spawn ! r also a great example ! of stress but nowhere to put ! fuck it make Egg in protest

the birdhouse thoughts especially hurt ;-; can do nothing but eat gapples and punch walls . or tweet like a cute little burd and hope the feds let him out..

modern au phil ohhhh ! supervillain is a v cute imagine ! i always think of him in a modern au as a remote/shut in potato farmer with no internet and he has someone who Takes his potatoes to the market , he rarely goes himself . (do not ask me abt my reserve fitpac au bc it overlaps w my etoilesza farmer au and i . cant . start another story rn augh) but aaa !!! i ramble - absolutely out-there artisan phil ? love it . mb renaissance crafts phil . old ass printin press , mb forging ? but he 'got into it before it god trendy' ? leatherwork but he refuses to do like necklace thonging n shit , only makes pieces for obscure like , old farm tools or smth ! or tool handle wrapping , belt sheaths/tool belts . omg . hmhm so many options . never put him in the suburbs . goodness me . this man wil dig a tunnel system under the sewers just so he can do kickflips in peace

sprout u always make me pop off lmao ;3; thank you for the msg i loved it , i lov phil thoughts always