#what coping mechanism can i use now!! damn it!!

[jackass-jones]

Girl like. The reason he said "this is how it should be" and faced death with a smile....is cuz he wanted to die. For 2 years he sat there thinking he was worthless and deserved to die. If he hadn’t be shot, his death would’ve been suicide, he was fully planning to die in a gutter somewhere undetected. When saying "this is how it should be" hes literally saying "don’t cry because I’m dying, my death is a good thing actually because I fucking suck and you are better off without me". I don’t think that’s badass even slightly, it’s actually really sad and really shitty. Shinjiro is so convinced that he deserves to die and hates the idea of anyone giving a shit about him because he literally can’t wrap his mind around the idea that he will be missed when he’s gone, that his death is a bad thing actually. And his last words were meant to be comforting because he fully did not intend for anyone to be there when he died, he intended to die alone, so he says them as a reminder that he’s not worth crying over

Personally, if it were me, if I was holding my dying best friend in my arms who was deeply depressed and suicidal and he said "this is how it should be" uh. I wouldn’t admire him for it??? Like am I losing my mind when I say the way this game handles Shinji is bad or is anyone else seeing this too 😰

[enchantressiren]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.. 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭.. 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮.❞

Which sex position is your future lover’s favorite and why? (Detailed)

Masterlist

Author's note,

It's been a while since I last posted, hi everyone. I hope you enjoy your Christmas coming up!

Divider

Pile I.

“I want to devour the sweet nectar of the sin that lies beneath me. To feel it dripping on the sin of my fingertips, the graze that will melt us into ecstasy burning in the brain of our subconscious, such a beauty that I only get to see—for how lucky I am.. a lucky bastard.. that I am.”

Your future lover’s energy puts me in a calm trance, the calmest one could be. I feel like I am sleeping or walking on a path of water that will lead me to paradise. They are so soft with you, their love, or shall I say devotion, to you is something they cherished tremendously, and they could not bear losing that with you. To lose you would simply be their death, and they cannot have that done, and that is why their favorite sex position is all over the place. They do not have one and could never dare; they want to feel you everywhere, in every position, and want to see your beautiful face move and show pure pleasure as they please you with the utmost respect. “That is something you deserve, you deserve the utmost respect one could bear, and that is the one thing you never have to ask or prove with me—it will be with you the minute you are my lover, though I am sorry it was not done when we were fighting.”

Enemies to lovers, or rivals to lovers, is your trope with them. You honestly made them want to fall in love, and made them understand what it was to actually love. Their ex, (or multiple, energies are flying around like crazy), were nasty. That’s really it, so awful, but they used that to improve on what they wanted, which was building walls around until you had the audacity to break them and make them fall for you, “shame on you!’’

(I can feel them next to me, they are so animated, so damn loving, it’s like they want to grab you right here and right now and pull you to their future).

Aside from your “audacity,” they are very happy that you did because they were spiraling into something darker and started to use something dangerous, not illegal or self-harming (it’s not my place to tell you), as a coping mechanism, yet now.. you are their drug. Not literally, but you basically saved them from this impending doom of shame and guilt. I believe you should get ready to heal your inner child (even if you have) with them because they will be spoiling you .. like crazy, maybe a bit too much? I see a vision with an insane amount of gifts, teddy bears, jewelry, sports gear, food, or something to do with your religion. Also art supplies or crystals that are insanely expensive, but if it is for you, then “fuck it, right?” That is how their attitude is with you.

Ten of wands.

I took a break because something was missing from them, and they could not tell me. Meaning they kept focusing on the positive aspects when it comes to your relationship and sex with you. However, with the ten of wands, they actually do not know how to have a favorite sexual position. In a way, they thought it was off-putting that others always picked a favorite; if you picked a favorite, then you lost the chance to explore around and make your lover feel sexual pleasure. So, intuition tells me they feel overburdened and overwhelmed picking a favorite, but at the same time, they feel pressured to pick one.

They know that you would not give a damn whether or not they had one, but their colleagues, co-workers, a boss, or some type of group pops up with how they think about sex, and it is affecting your future lover right now, and when you meet; they will feel insecure throughout your sexual journey with you thus why the relationship with them will be enemies or rivals to lovers. I believe it's peer pressure with them. My intuition tells me this is the reason why you saved them and why they would do anything for you.

I feel a lot of anxious energy with them, a part of me wants to hug them and tell them they are okay, okay to love and show their pleasure in their own way, but I already know this is how you feel with them and what you will tell them. And when you do, they will confess you saved them.

As I was editing, I had to give you a message and also saw 777. Listen here. You are absolutely allowed to love whoever you want, you are allowed to be spoiled and pampered, you are allowed to be kissed in the most romantic ways, and you are allowed to have someone help you take showers. No, this person will not treat you in a bad way because you struggle with mental health problems. And no, they will not let anyone laugh at you even when you guys are not together because you do not deserve that, and they also think someone who does that is a "fucking asshole.'' You are so so so .. and many so worthy of love and I hope each day you tell yourself that, because it is true or else I would not have said it nor left this message, understood? Allow yourself to have the happiness you deserve and stop being your own blockage because, at the end of the day, it is not worth it, and seeing you struggle to have your happiness, do you think your kid self would like that? Would that be okay with them or is that okay—to have yourself struggling to make amends with your past, forcefully giving yourself guilt for something that should have been forgiven a long time ago? Let it go, it is seriously okay, let it go. Yes, what you did was awful, and should not have happened with them, but let it go and do and become better for the mistakes you caused and for yourself so it does not happen again. So as I said before, if I didn't mean it, I would not have mentioned it in your pile, so let it go.

Masterlist

Pile II.

Your future lover's favorite sex position is face sitting. They love, and I mean this very heavily, love eating you out, giving you oral, sucking you off, whatever the case is, they are very addicted to your private parts. “All you, all you, and .. all you, you are so fucking delicious baby, fuckkkkk.” I see a scene where they are covered in your juices, your cum, everything about you, and they are still eating you out as you grab their arms, body parts, or hair. Gripping for dear life, begging for relief, but nothing happens other than using their tongue in or on you faster, swirling it until it hits that sensitive spot of yours and, as well, as they are filled to the brim with your essence. The whole idea of eating dessert does not appeal to them UNTIL it is yours.

I hope you are ready for a very smutty scene since I cannot channel anymore other than their fantasies.. for you. I will address you as Y/N (your name), and them as F/L (future lover).

Scene A)

Your F/L will grab your leg and flip you over as they crawl towards your body, grabbing your skin to feel your skin. To feel the heat of your body because of how aroused you are. They will crawl towards your lips and greedily suck your top lips, nibbling the bottom to feel the taste from the last meal you ate, and chew softly. Then they will roughly thrust their tongue into your lips, sucking and grazing their tongue on yours and your teeth; they want to feel everything about you. Then they will pull out, grope your jaw and spit into your mouth as they crawl down and then sensually drag their tongue down to your chest area, sucking on them, and then to your private part as they blow air on it, seeing you twitch, whimper, groan, moan, etc. They will lean down and then give you oral.

Scene B)

Y/N is focused on doing their work, finishing up a coming project, and their deadline is coming within a week or two. F/L comes waltzing in as if they own the place and gazes at Y/N, smirking at their inconvenience. Though it would have been better if they could have helped Y/N, but no, it did not fit their shenanigans or their agenda. They stride over to Y/N as they massaged Y/N's shoulder, building trust with them. Once gaining their trust, they forcefully kiss Y/N, tasting their sweet nectar and feeling their tension dropping down until they remember their work as they push away F/L. But no, you would assume F/L will hold back and respect that push, yet they will not (still consent here). F/L will pick Y/N over their shoulder despite the weight of Y/N, and walk towards a countertop or over a table and bend them over. F/L will look at Y/N, and undress them as they crouch down and tease Y/N’s undergarment until they see a wet spot and then take it off only to tease Y/N with a toy, waiting for them to release but not cum since it is not allowed.

It will last for 2 hours straight, and once Y/N has had enough, they will face Y/N over their shoulders, similar to someone sitting on someone’s shoulder, only in this case, Y/N is sitting in front of F/L. F/L will suck or eat out Y/N until they are cumming over.. and over again and sobbing for F/L to stop. But it will not happen until Y/N uses their safe word(s) and once that does happen, pampering aftercare will erupt and leave Y/N comforted to the highest degree possible. With an insane amount of kisses, "because you deserve that and you deserve me to eat you out more!''

Masterlist

[alchemistc]

Everything's so damn dark when the blindfold slips off that for a second she can't see a thing.

Don't panic. Don't scream. Don't hurt the baby.

Something groans at her feet and she startles straight into the pipe behind her head.

"'lo?" A voice asks, familiar enough to give her pause, and she wonders for a moment if this is a joke, if this is a trick, if this - "s'there?"

His words are slurred. A concussion, maybe, then. Great. Biggest man she knows and he's gonna be a useless pile of puke to her.

Don't panic, Maddie reminds herself, and then she starts giggling.

"Tommy?"

He groans an affirmative.

"Oh good. I feel a lot better about getting overpowered, now."

A hand grabs for her ankle and Maddie bites back a scream. It's Tommy's hand, big and warm and - fully unbound, which feels a little unfair. "Cunt drugged me," he says, then pauses. Squeezes her ankle. "Sorry for the language."

"No, it's, uh - I think it's warranted this time."

Maddie can't remember exactly how it'd happened to her. Had she been hit? Is she injured? She does a mental tally. Her lip feels swollen. Nose and eyes feel fine, though, so maybe she bit it? Neck, shoulders, all good. She's been bending her elbows and wrists just fine, she just doesn't have the leverage to do anything about the zip ties keeping her affixed to the probably pipe behind her. Hips, legs, knees. She wiggles her toes and in the darkness Tommy chuckles. "Everything accounted for?"

He must have done his own check while she was working through hers. She can hear him rustling around. "I'm still incredibly mad at you, but it's nice to hear your voice," she says, and Tommy goes still. "Tommy? All good?"

"...why are you mad at me?"

"Like you don't know?" Oh. Actually maybe she is more mad than she is glad. "You broke my brother's heart, idiot. I don't have any more room in my entire house for the coping mechanism he's come up with." She kicks, a little. Tommy grunts and shifts. "I hope that hit something painful and non-essential to our escape."

"He's - he'll be fine."

"What exactly is your definition of fine? Because it's been a few months and he's still bringing me baked goods on a bi-weekly basis."

"Bi-weekly like -."

"Do not get pedantic on me, Kinard. Two times a week. What's your status? Moving parts all still moving?"

"I think my balls have taken a vacation, but that's more a reflection on how terrifying you are than on this current situation."

Flippant. Sarcasm in the face of Maddie trying to get a full picture. Buck had called him funny and charming. Maddie's second kick doesn't land, but only because he's got a hand wrapped around her foot. "Once we're out of here, I'm gonna punch you in the face."

He hums. "For the balls comment, or the cunt thing?"

Maddie shrugs. Remembers that he can't see it. "Which part of 'broke my brother's heart' are you not getting?"

He sounds like he's moving gingerly. She can hear heavy bulky fabric rustle and she wonders if he's in three layers like usual. She could use something warm. "I - figured he'd be over it by now."

Maddie snorts. If she had to make a guess, Tommy glowers at the noise. "Dumbass."

And then it hits her. "The cunt? Skinny, brunette, pretty? Kind of...angular face?"

Tommy hums and takes her weight as she tries to kick again. "Sounds like her."

"Oh, Buck's gonna be pissed and embarrassed. She's rebound attempt number two."

Tommy's silent long enough that Maddie has to check in. He hums, and goes back to silence. "Rebound attempt?"

"If you hadn't noticed, we've actually been kidnapped, so maybe I can save your relationship afterwards?"

"I think she was trying to kill me," Tommy admits. "Otherwise why am I unbound in this shitty Saw knockoff?"

Maddie feels some extra pieces dropping into place. Oh, Buck is never gonna live this down actually.

"Can you overpower her if she comes in?"

"If she's not quick to try to drug me again. If I can figure out where the fucking door is. If -."

"A yes or no is fine. Pretty sure she's the Bay Butcher, if that helps you answer."

His pause is long. "...maybe," he says, and accepts the kick this time without block or protest.

[luveline]

hi honey, i love you so so much!!

what about stripper!reader with derek morgan?? he's on a case where strippers are being murdered, and while hotch is driving morgan calls you and tells you not to go into work because of what's going on, and emily is listening in on the conversation from the backseat and they tease him

thank youu!! love you!

ty for requesting lovely!! ilysm ♡

"I know you don't like listening to me, but could you do me a favour? Just this once?" 

Emily leans over in her seat so Spencer can see her side eye. "Who's Morgan talking to?" 

"Stay home tonight. No, this isn't a jealousy thing, you vixen–" 

Spencer shrugs. "No idea. But–" 

"But," Emily agrees. They've just left a crime scene with a specific victim, and now Morgan's on the phone asking someone to stay home. That someone would have reason to visit said crime scene's location, and the word vixen suggests female rather than male, which means, "Morgan has a secret stripper girlfriend." 

Spencer's entire face takes his frown, eyebrows pinched, mouth quirked into a telling line. "I like the implausible," he murmurs, "but that feels illogical. Where would they have met?"

"Uh," Emily says, widening her eyes at him. "Where do you think, Spence?" 

"Morgan doesn't need to go to a strip club." 

Emily understands what Spencer's saying. There are lots of reasons that people frequent strip clubs or gentlemen's clubs and none of those reasons apply to Derek. It's possible he could go socially, but it's just so unlike him, it doesn't add up. 

"I'm telling you the truth. I can't give you more detail than that, I just need you to stay home tonight." Derek pauses, laughs. "Alright," —his voice takes on a mechanical rendition, clearly having been fed a line he has to repeat aloud— "I, Derek Morgan, am an ignorant, jealous man, who can't cope with the fact that you don't want me, and am making up sad and childish lies to get you to stay home from your job. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, laugh it up." 

Emily laughs and grabs the headrest as he hangs up on you, pulling herself forward to taunt him as is required. "Care to explain yourself?" 

Derek sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you guys." 

"What!" Spencer says, though his smile is more audible than his incredulity. 

"So you have something to tell us?" Emily asks. 

Derek knows he can't weasel his way out of telling them, and he doesn't really want to. "I don't have a secret stripper girlfriend," he says, rolling his eyes, "she's not my girlfriend. She is an exotic dancer at one of the clubs downtown, and I met her at Home Depot." 

Emily isn't perturbed that Derek heard their gossiping. She's shameless. She doesn't even care that Hotch is frowning behind the wheel. "What was an exotic dancer doing at Home Depot?"

"Weirdly, Emily, she has a home. She wanted help finding renter friendly flooring." 

"Can we meet her?" 

"Never," Derek says with a smile. Emily couldn't know this, but he really likes you. You're sweet, super funny, and yes, you're a stripper. You work hard. Pole dancing is as physically demanding as any manual labour and you're damn good at it. "Ever." 

Spencer interjects the ensuing argument with a statistical analysis of strippers who are homeowners (unfairly few), but Morgan doesn't answer, trying to read a new text from you discretely. 

Sorry if I embarrassed you at work :( is it really not safe to go ?? Maybe u can come and be my bodyguard. I won't even make u tip me 4:10PM

He sends back, Really not safe. Stay home for me, relax for a few days. Call you tonight even if nothing changes 4:11PM

My hero <3 I trust u, but be careful OK ? and pls if it isn't too much trouble can u bring back some of those weird candies again? thank u thank u <3<3<3 4:14PM

Hotch makes a quiet sound of approval, eyes on the road. "The same girl you were with at Docklands? Rossi said she was cute." 

"She is." 

"Rossi met her?" Emily asks. "Oh, you're the worst."

[artytaeh]

hello. hi! 🌷 do i have your attention now? nice. ♡

because let me tell you something, reader; if you were to date theodore nott, your spot— yours and theo's, the corner of hogwarts that belongs to you, where he doesn't take any other girl and you better not take any other boy, is the astronomy tower.

♡ : SMOKING UNDER THE STARS, as the smoke joins the fog and few clouds seen in the night sky, is a time of the day that theodore enthusiastically awaits— from the moment he wakes up, to the time he falls asleep, tolerating classes with the hope of night arriving at a faster pace. sometimes, theo even uses those classes to sleep; a slumber over the wooden surface of those desks, all for the sake of being able to be fully awake for a few more hours, later when he's with you.

initially, theodore feels somewhat guilty to indulge a new bad habit of yours; constantly fighting with his conscience and that selfishness of his, because theodore longs for the companionship— for a woman that embraces his whole being. not just the attractive part, not just the pleasant lust; to have someone accepting his problems that have those nasty, bad habits as a coping mechanism, a consequence.

when you share a cigarette with him, theodore doesn't know whether he finds it terribly attractive (the sight of your lipstick lingering on the cigarette, where he puts his lips too, an indirect kiss [how childish of him, to think that!]) or if theodore nott should melt in front of you.

a drag from that cigarette you share, is perceived as a gentle try to take a weight from his shoulders. someone willing to listen. to know, to show interest about what breaks his heart, even though theodore is a challenging person to get any kind of personal information from.

theo runs up those stairs as if the dark lord himself was chasing him— he runs with a huge grin on his face, like a bloody child in christmas' morning; however, theodore takes a deep breath, brushes his long fingers through his hair, regains his stoic posture; as if he had taken his sweet time getting there.

as if that hand of his doesn't twitch in excitement to open this damn door, that is keeping you and him at a room of distance.

and when you smile at him, waving with your lighter in hand, one that he has put on stickers and silly doodles for each smoking session together?

theodore nott accepts the fate of his broken heart; pieces melting like butter in a pan, mushing together with hope as glue, daring to slowly put the pieces back together— if someone is capable of mending theo's heart and belief of being a lost cause, it's you.

and all you had to do was listen and smile at him.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

♡ : STARGAZING WITH THEODORE NOTT is a must; an unofficial date of yours, even before you started dating. at first, blankets are brought to lay on top of them; because the night wasn't chilly yet. however, when winter approaches hogwarts with snowy days and cold nights, the chance to share a blanket isn't wasted by theo— who nonchalantly wraps his arm around your shoulders, bringing the blanket with him, so your backs and arms are warm with the soft, warm fabric. this nonchalance, this smooth movements of theodore; they're all a facade, because his mind races with prayers that you're not able to hear his heart beating so loudly inside his ribcage.

theodore used to think that winter is a bothersome season; having to wear more layers of clothes, waking up in the middle of the night from the cold breeze (blaise has this irritating habit of leaving windows open to ventilate the bedroom) or because he, unconsciously, kicked the sheets away only to wake up freezing cold.

now, winter is a prayer, is a pleading to the gods or whoever deity brings the snow, the cold, the fog, the rain, the cold wind: "Dio mio, per favore, rendilo freddo come l'Antartide, così posso coccolare la mia ragazza con una scusa!" (God of mine, please, make it as cold as Antarctica, so I can cuddle my girl with an excuse!)

he brings a blanket. why not two? you'd ask one fateful night; theo was thankful for his wit, for that quick tongue of his, because the excuse he found was believable enough.

apparently, mattheo riddle is easily cold; and impolite, too, since he steals some of theodore's rightful blankets to warm himself up.

huh, who'd say that about the dark lord's son. thankfully, hopefully, this white lie will never reach mattheo's ears.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

♡ : DEEP CONVERSATIONS ABOUT everything and anything, shouldn't be a surprise for you either. after all, despite his group of friends being constituted by a doberman willing to fight any moving student, a womanizer with a pretty face, mama's boy from the quidditch team and nepo baby gone wrong— theodore nott is an intelligent young man.

and truthfully, as much as theo adores his friends and having a laugh with them... nothing beats these conversations between you two. where theodore has asked you about your philosophy; what do you believe? in your perspective, deities exist? what happens after you die? how are your dreams like? where would you go, if you could go to anywhere in the world? after hogwarts, what will you do— he wants to know your idealistic and realistic plans!

the more he learns about you, the deeper he falls for you, he thinks.

even when you tell him about some silly fear of yours. despite that embarrassment moment that you retold him, making the two of you laugh and almost cough amidst the smoke. those little quirks, even things you'd be ashamed to tell anyone else, your deepest, most secret thoughts...

theodore nott loves them all.

his blue eyes, unfeeling and void of any happiness, soften at the sight of you. theo perceives you as the most perfect being in the world— his Dea.

Dea mia, he calls you in his own thoughts. theodore discovers that he admires your flaws, more than he ever tolerated anyone else's— qualities and good traits can be shared among many people.

but flaws? thoughts, ideologies, habits? that makes you, well, you.

that's what makes his Dea different from other girls of your house. that mole that you find silly, that insecurity that you wished to remove from your body, that habit of yours when you're nervous or when you have to lie— those are so charming to him.

it's charming because it's you, theodore admits to himself one day, when he's smoking alone, already missing you by his side. such a realization makes him sigh.

wasn't love the most terrifying emotion, for a boy who only knew pain and devastation?

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

♡ : HOWEVER, YOU MUST KNOW THAT when something is wrong— be it a stressful day for theodore, a letter from his father, a wave of depression, a fight between you two; he'll be there. on the spot you share, that little secret of yours: the astronomy tower.

he'll be there; be it because he finds a shade of comfort to be there where you've spent time with him once, or because some silly part of him hopes that you'll notice his missing presence, that somehow, you'll read his thoughts and know that he needs you.

even if theodore is angry with you, he'll wait there. unconsciously, of course! i doubt that theo himself rationalizes this habit, of seeking refuge on the place that "belongs" to you and him, as a way to await for the moment where you'll find him, to talk things over.

even if he'll be smoking his lungs out of stress, out of anger, out of sadness, out of hope that maybe if he smokes enough, he'll drop dead with his sorrow.

depending on what he's feeling and the reason why he's there, waiting for you . . .

theo hugs you tightly. of course, such a thing requires a closer relationship with him; even as a friend, theodore will find comfort on you. to have your body inside his arms, to feel your warmth, your scent; suddenly, that hopelessness inside his heart, that void, is filled with love for you. theodore nott doesn't cry; it's weak to do so. what the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel— so if he buries his face on your shoulder and you feel your clothes getting wet from tears... well, that might be your imagination. for the sake of his sanity and peace, please, don't comment about it. just hug him back. theo doesn't feel the kindness of comfort ever since his mother died.

theo averts his gaze, taking a drag of his cigarette before opening his heart. this would be a consequence of a stressful day. usually where anger for himself and hatred towards his father subsides to melancholy. an anguished cry of his heart, where theo isn't sure if he's allowed to pity himself or to scream at the world for what he lacked, what he deserved to have during his childhood and teenage years. he'll take to you, eventually— maybe after a cigarette or two. because theodore knows that whatever you talk there, won't leave those four walls. that's how much he trusts you.

theo leans against the window frame, smoking, pretending as if he didn't see you entering the tower and walking towards him. letting you lead the conversation, introducing the topic of that fight between the two of you. as intelligent and witty as he is, theodore couldn't start a sincere conversation about feelings, honesty and vulnerability even if his life depends on it.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

BUT PLEASE, FOR THE SAKE OF EVERYTHING, don't bring another boy there. not to the astronomy tower— to yours and theo's secret place, a silent agreement between you two, that this is a spot, a moment, a deal that is special and exclusive to the other.

after all, before theo can feel sadness, anger will consume him like a vicious virus. fury boils on his blood, spreads through his veins, as jealousy burns on that aching (and fragile) heart of theodore nott's at the sight of his ragazza with someone else.

the silent threat of someone being on his rightful place— oh, that drives him insane.

so, like a child, like an immature and impulsive guy, theodore returns the favor: bringing another girl there. anyone, really; the first one that falls to his feet.

and he'll kiss her there, too. theo's lips show no mercy, roughly kissing that girl that he barely remembers the name, imagining that it's you on his lap— as if he's taking revenge on you for breaking his heart, diminishing the value that theo thought he had. out of spite, he'll bite that girl's lip; making it hurt, almost bleed, when his mind cruelly invades his thoughts with the image of you and that bastard smiling in the astronomy tower.

a place that should be reserved for him.

soon, theo regrets this. as awful as it sounds, he's not particularly worried about that girl's feelings— he's worried about yours. theodore panics at the idea of you finding out, as if he hadn't done this to get some sick sense of revenge, of having his feelings avenged in some kind of way.

and you betrayed this silent agreement first!

nevermind that. theo is terrified that if you find out he did this, then any chance he build up with you, with such effort and daydreams, is crushed by his stupid, impulsive hot-headed behavior of his.

theo genuinely despises the idea of having another woman by his side, on that window frame, touching his pack of cigarettes; lighting them up with a lighter that isn't yours. engage conversation with someone that isn't you, on those nights spent talking and smoking together.

it doesn't matter if you find out or not— theodore shows up at your door, with flowers on his hands; picked by himself, stolen from professor pomfrey's garden. his abandonment issues, the terror of the idea of being alone as he was before he had a glimpse of you, makes the prideful slytherin beg.

and he does. no more games. no more longing gazes that wonder if the feelings are mutual or not.

he wants to be yours. please, be mine. his blue eyes gaze into yours, seeking for the truth of your soul, pleading for a sign that you were meant to be. sii la mia ragazza, non riesco a respirare quando non sei vicino. soffocherò senza di te.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

the next time you enter the astronomy tower, you'd find that the place had a different tranquility to it. something like little lamps, with a blanket on the floor— facing the window, where the stars shine so bright, as if the universe required such a beautiful starry sky for you and theo only; nevermind the students who are already sleeping, exhausted from the day full of classes.

theo didn't have the time to buy you something; at his command, there were only food and snacks in the castle's kitchen, warm blankets, pillows and two willing best friends to help.

( while lorenzo kept giving suggestions to further increase the romance of this surprise date between the two of you, looking more excited about it than theo himself— well, mattheo riddle lends more than a hand, to make sure that he'd stop hearing such nonsenses about you. every. single. day. from the moment when theo wakes up sighing because of you, eats as he steals glances at your table, rambles about you and dares to avert each topic to your existence. mattheo might sympathize with you— but god, theo is so in love with you, that mattheo's eye starts twitching at the mention of your name. )

it's for the best if you don't make him wait; in those five minutes that he spent waiting for you, theo fixed the blanket to be an inch straighter. two minutes in, and theodore considers changing the position of the blanket and those snacks perfectly pilled up, his mind playing tricks that this blanket is crooked.

and he stresses. as if he'd lose the love of his life because he couldn't put a blanket on a perfect straight position. thirty seconds later, he's fixing the places he put the lamps; checking with an attentive eye if they're symmetrical.

maybe he should have brought a ruler.

because there's nothing else he can fix, theo's critical eye stares at the snacks. some he likes, most of them food that he knows you like.

however, theo is panicking. what if you're suddenly allergic to a food he brought?

does he know how to deal with a person having an allergic reaction?

thankfully, this paranoia spiraling on that genius mind of his reaches its end— the door opens, and you enter the astronomy tower; eyes shining at the sight of that familiar room, now decorated. beautifully decorated. the cherry on top is theodore nott standing there: smiling at you, looking somewhat shy, because theo never really put such an effort for someone.

never cared this much. never loved this much. never craved the approval, never needed the praise from someone of his age.

you spend hours there. if theo was nervous at first, such anxiety dissipates into thin air— the familiarity of being alone with you here, in the astronomy tower, calming his senses, subsiding such a silly nervousness with the happiness of being with you.

you definitely cuddle. and if you two fall asleep there, in each other's arms, probably holding hands, warm between blankets and pillows— well, that's a secret shared between you two.

morning arrives with the interruption of such peaceful slumber; the sunrise bringing too much light for you both. of course, theo walks you to your dorm, even to your room if you let him; saying goodbye with a tender, soft kiss that displays the vulnerability of his stolen heart.

heart that is on your hands. heart that remains with you, as he walks away to his own dorm, already missing you. your scent. your voice. your touch, your warmth.

and even though you'd have to wake up in a few hours for breakfast at the great hall— well, theo still misses you, anyways.

unable to sleep, theo spends those three hours looking at the ceiling. a silly smile on his face, that makes mattheo riddle groan at the sight of this.

god. theodore nott would NOT shut the fuck up for a whole month.

౨ৎ you know where to find me, ♡ ͡

and i know where to look . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— by far, my weakest work. but it was written in fifteen minutes, so why not post it! as always, you're more than welcome to interact with me + send messages. tysm for the feedback!

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[avocado-writing]

Hey there, if you’re still doing requests for BG3... I'm terribly angry about something big and outside of my control at the moment. Could you let me know what you'd think the BG3 companions do if Tav started self destructing? Like Tav passing harsher judgments, snapping at neutral NPCs, or fighting more dangerously and recklessly with bad guys?

Oooo the angst possibilities! Fun! Going to write like you’re self destructing due to stress, and you’re picking unhealthy coping mechanisms. Here we go:

Astarion

at first probably thinks that it’s quite funny. We know he enjoys seeing a little bit of suffering.

but, the more it goes on, the more worried you can see him become.

this isn’t like you. He knows you by now. You’re… kinder than this, damn it.

he takes you to the side one day after he’s seen you be short with a friend.

“whats the matter?” “Nothing, Astarion.” “If you’re going to lie to me, darling, you’d better do a better job of it than that.”

you go to snap at him, fire on your tongue, and then something inside you breaks. You just start sobbing. Everything which has been weighing on your mind has finally become too much.

he isn’t good at comforting words, but he does hold you. Runs his hand up and down your back, and lets you know you he’s here for you whenever you’re ready to speak.

helps you centre yourself again, eventually. He loves you. He’ll do what he can to make things better.

Gale

Makes a couple of snide remarks about how you’re acting, suggesting maybe you be a bit kinder, but then he stops to reassess how you’re acting.

there’s something wrong. You’re pent up. Furious, but not with the people you talk to. They just happen to be the ones bearing the brunt of it.

he sees the injuries you nurse on yourself after battles too. You used to be a clever fighter. Now you are a reckless one.

takes you aside one night at camp and presents his findings very matter-of-factly, concluding that there must be something the matter. When he puts it so astutely, you know you have no chance of hiding from him.

tears slip down your face and he is there in an instant drying your eyes. Telling you there’s nothing to worry about. Reassuring you that “the great Gale of Waterdeep is on your side, we’ll find a way to work things out.”

he puffs his chest out, you chuckle and bury your face in the crook of his neck. Yes. You will find a way to work things out.

Wyll

When he first sees you acting out, as it were, he immediately intervenes.

he knows what it’s like to be under great levels of stress. He made his contact when he was a teenager, after all, and had to deal with all the fallout that happened consequently.

he takes you to the side, holds your hand tightly in his, gets you to look at him.

“i love you, you know that, yes? If there’s something the matter, you need only tell me.”

you begin to crack immediately. Damn this sweet man and his emotional intelligence. Why is he perfect.

you let him know you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. You agree you’re not coping with it very well. He says he’ll help you however he can, but you need to stop being so unkind to yourself.

“you matter, my love. You deserve sweetness.”

holds you close, and you just stand there for a while, together. From then on whenever something is wrong, he is the first one you go to.

Karlach

Sees you snapping at a friend, jumps in.

“whoa, whoa, whoa! Soldier, where is all this coming from?”

you snap to tell her it’s none of her business, she wouldn’t understand… but then you see the hurt in her eyes and immediately feel awful.

“Oh gods, Karlach, I’m sorry…” your voice is wobbly, cracking a bit, and she cups your face in her warm hands.

“hey, hey. it’s okay. Tell me what’s going on.”

you blurt out all your feelings to her in one, long, run-on sentence. She can’t help with a lot of the personal stuff, but she can listen, and she holds you to her chest and rocks you a little. Being engulfed by her embrace is very comforting.

”I’ve got you, babe, eh?” You know she does. For better or for worse.

Lae’zel

She sees the vicious way that you’ve been acting in battle. Strange, usually it’s her attempting to take the big hit, not you. She can take it, you can’t.

She finds you when you’re tending to your battle wounds. Sits down. Stares at you until you instigate conversation.

“what?” “You are not acting like yourself.” “Oh? And how would you know what that is?”

you’re just saying these things to be hurtful, but she’s stalwart. You’re deflecting.

She tells you she’s been enamoured with you long enough to see how you usually are. That you’re kinder, smarter. You’re lapsing into these feelings out of some sort of self-preservation, but you don’t need to.

”if there is something weighing on your mind, share it. I am here to help ease your burdens.”

you don’t love to cry in front of her but that is remarkably… sweet. It breaks you a bit.

You promise to stop being so foolhardy, especially in battle. She says that must be for the best, lest you get rended in half.

“Hey!” but she’s smiling. Your heart swells as you realise she’s trying to make you laugh.

Shadowheart

Lets you get quite far down the burrow of self-destruction before she does anything.

once again, she’s loyal to the lady of loss. Nothing you’re doing is exactly alarming to her.

but it does get worse and worse… she sees you snapping at friends, being harsher to passers-by, and she’s constantly having to patch you up after battle due to your wounds.

eventually one day you snap at her, and that’s her limit.

“I know something’s causing you stress but it isn’t me. I’m trying to help. So you can either pull your head out of your arse or I’m leaving this tent.”

the two of you have a little squabble, but it quickly becomes obvious your heart isn’t in it. Your anger turns to sadness. You collapse in tears and she pulls you to her without a second thought, holding you close.

despite her sharran devotion, she starts whispering how things can get better, how they will change. How the first step is letting people in.

her hand wound throbs as she comforts you. But in this moment she knows she’d pick you every time.

things are easier from then on, knowing she is with you.

[signanothername]

I know next to nothing about Delta Sans lol... what are some of his main traits and characteristics? /nf

I GET TO RAMBLE ABOUT DELTA LETS GOOOOO

Funny enough, Delta’s canon material isn’t very vast, considering most his canon story is animated, so you can imagine how long it takes to animate and how few animations there are, despite that i just can’t help but love this bitch

Let’s start with basics since you don’t know much, you might see Delta’s Au with 3 names: Ultratale, Vitaltale, and Delta’s tale, which are all canon as they’re all used by Delta’s creator Animated Zorox

Ultratale is the Au’s series old name when it was first animated (and is now cancelled), Vitaltale is the Au’s current name which refers to the new repooted series, Delta’s tale use is honestly unclear for me, but i like to believe it’s more of a general name for the Au

Kay so with that out of the way, Delta is a sans that fused with the human soul of bravery, that’s why he has his signature orange gloves, (and Delta can talk and communicate with the bravery soul inside his head)

Delta is from a Genocide timeline and is the only survivor, so after he defeats Chara (who’s called “Omega Chara” in the Au) Delta takes it upon himself to become a protector of Aus (imagine it as his coping mechanism for losing his own Au fused with Bravery’s sense of protection) but he’s not a protector in the same sense that is Ink, Delta travels from Au to Au pretty much looking for a fight, looking to see if the Au he’s in is in trouble and fighting whoever causes it to save it from the same fate his own Au faced

So he’s kind, brave, righteous and honest… too honest chchchch

But he’s also egotistical, super hot headed, and can easily rage, and despite deeming himself a protector, he’s only a protector to those who need protection, so the poor bitches who threaten the Au? Yeah Delta isn’t above tainting his hands with someone else’s blood (ma boi is passionate about murdering fr fr) in his defense tho he tries listening and talking to them and convincing them (for roughly 10 seconds) if it doesn’t work then he goes for the kill

Look at him telling Cross he’ll kill him (god I love him)

But he’s also willing to put himself in danger if it meant protecting someone else (basically putting the life of others above his own)

What’s also fun is the fact Delta can easily give up like a normal Sans would, It’s Bravery that keeps him going

But what I also really love is his way of fighting/using his powers, Delta tends to use his own blaster’s jaws as a super speed jet pack, and his fighting style tends to mostly be up close and personal, like this bitch will break bones with his bare hands, and believe me, this bitch sure got stamina cause DAMN

He can even fully fuse with Bravery, like he becomes a glowing orange lamp hcchchchch

he’s a bit reckless but still smart to know when to stay a safe distance or change tactics

One of my fave things is him using his gloves as armored shoes cause why the fuck not y’know?

Delta is also semi canonically friends with Color and Epic (semi-canon as in the creators of these three drew them together as the “Epic Sanses Trio” but are not necessarily part of their own respective timeline’s stories chchhcch) but it’s fully canon in my heart <3333

If you’d like to see the actual canon content for Delta, I recommend checking this doc made by @howlsofbloodhounds they’ve done an amazing job at collecting as much as they can <3

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 8 - Catharsis

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 4,900

Warnings: self-deprecating thoughts, thoughts of death, heavy drinking, use of alcohol and sexual behavior as coping mechanisms. you know it's what you can expect from a blitzo-centered chapter. this happens right after the ozzie's chapter.

Blitzø is going to die alone. 

He’s going to die alone and no one will attend his funeral or even visit his grave other than to spit on it and his gravestone will read ‘Here Lies Blitzo Buckzo’ and nothing more because no one will be there to tell them to cross out the O and he most certainly won’t be a beloved anything. He'll just stay Blitzo Buckzo, forever.

And Blitzo Buckzo fucking sucks. 

Sometimes he wishes he was able to think before he spoke. He never does much of that and he’s aware he’d probably have refrained from hurting half the people he’s hurt if he could just keep his damn mouth shut. He didn’t think about this all that much… except for when he did. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Her voice rings in his head non-stop, like one of those annoying fucking church bells he’d come across once in the living world that ring every single hour, making it unable for its existence to be forgotten.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

It rings over and over again, stubborn, and it just won’t fucking go away.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Blitzø drives home on his own, but not in silence. He turns the radio on and the volume up until he figures it must be loud enough that he’ll have trouble hearing his own thoughts. It doesn’t work. The shit thing about thoughts is that they’re not something you can just turn off when you get sick of them. They follow you everywhere, all the time, inconvenient and impossible to get rid of. He proceeds to ignore the songs that come on in favor of mumbling incoherent things under his breath in a desperate attempt to reassure himself that he’s not bothered by everything that just happened.  Things like I can think about people’s fuckin’ feelings and think you’re so much better than me, well fuck you and rich fuckin’ asshole thinks he’s hot shit and probably suckin’ face right now. 

You know, things that prove he doesn’t care one bit. 

Whatever.

He parks the van without a care, still too busy mumbling to himself, leaving it askew, taking up almost half of the parking spot next to his own. The old lady from 22 is gonna be pissed at the inconvenience. Well fuck her too. He doesn’t spare another thought on that. 

He dreads the walk up the stairs to the apartment, wishing he lived somewhere with an elevator, or in a house, or in a super sick fancy mansion where he used money as toilet paper when he took a shit because he was just that rich. Actually, scratch that, that sounds uncomfortable. At least his shitty apartment with limited hot water and four flights of stairs before it had real toilet paper, and it was the nice kind even, he always made sure of it even if it was a little more expensive. 

His little luxuries start to sound stupid when he’s been spending so much time around Stolas and all his fancy stuff.

When he opens the door and enters the apartment, his first immediate thought is to knock on Loona’s door. He groans once as he walks towards it and then once again when he spots the note she left taped to it. ‘Tex invited me to a party. Don’t wait up.’ Yeah of course he fucking did.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

Does he? 

He does. He thinks he does, at least. Maybe not all the time, but why else would he have said those things to her other than to protect her feelings? It’s not his fault if she was setting herself up for heartbreak. She needed to kill those feelings and if she wouldn’t then he would, fuck being the bad guy. In fact, fuck her too! He could so think about other people’s feelings.

He groans a third time at the thought of spending the night all alone, because he already knows what being alone makes out of him, and he doesn't like it one bit. If he could, he’d never be alone, not even for a single second, ever. Maybe that way he wouldn’t be so pathetic and so sad, because that’s what being alone made of him: pathetic and sad. 

It’s why Blitzø used to hate weekends. 

Satan, he fucking hated them. Why couldn’t every day be a work day? Why would they need a break? If it were up to him, there would be no such thing as a weekend. Because on weekends he had nothing to distract him from the ever-growing nothing in the pit of his chest and that wasn’t much fun at all.

Until Y/N accepted the job at I.M.P.

Before that, they used to speak almost exclusively through text, extremely inconsistently. He’s never really been the greatest at texting, but he could spam her with stupid memes and pictures of him doing random things throughout his day and horse doodles that she didn’t seem mad about receiving. They spent a whole year like that, only meeting in person a few times here and there.

When he offered her the job he promised himself not to have any expectations because, well shit, why would she trade in an obviously well-paying job, with her best friend as her boss, where she’d been working for years on end without having to hurt or kill anybody, for whatever it was he was asking her to do? 

But then she said yes.

It wasn’t long until he figured out they weren’t all that different from each other. Apparently, as much as she liked to complain about needing a break, just to annoy him, she dreaded weekends too. Not that she’d just admit that point-blank, but they did go out on on a Friday night after work and she did drink one too many and she sighed and complained about having to go home and it was all so much like him. ‘I don’t wanna be alone, Blitz,’ she’d told him. 

He didn't wanna be alone either.

And so he took her back home and he slept on her couch and he stayed there the next day, keeping her company and, honestly, enjoying hers. 

That’s how their tradition started. Almost every single weekend, the two will find themselves in either of their apartments, in the ugliest clothes they own, to cook or order something extremely greasy and unhealthy and marathon a shit-ton of movies, staying in on Saturday after going out somewhere on Friday. Loona would routinely call it ‘patheticville’ and ‘loser day’ and things like that. 

He doesn't hate weekends anymore. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

And now he’d fucking gone and done this. 

He still wanted to fight, then. To argue, to scream, to yell. He wanted them to do it too. To get down and dirty and scream back at him. He wanted a reason to react.

Blitzø has always been very good at reacting. 

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than you own?

But how was he supposed to react to that? The thought of grabbing his phone and texting her something along the lines of ‘fuck you and your pet bird too’ crosses his mind for a moment and, shit, maybe he is a prick, and he was gonna die alone wasn’t he? He was sure to if he kept doing this kind of thing. 

And maybe he fucking deserves it. 

Sometimes he wonders just how he’s going to die. Will it be peaceful? He hopes not. He sure as shit does not deserve peaceful. Maybe it could at least be cool. Maybe he could go down in a super badass shootout in the human world or a cool-as-fuck sword fight or something. Or maybe he’ll die in some dumbass way like tripping on the sidewalk and cracking his head open on the pavement. Maybe it’ll be in one of those days when he’ll be climbing up Stolas’ balcony and then he’ll slip and fall and break all his bones only to be found dead on the grass surrounded by ball gags and anal plugs. A stupid send-off for a stupid motherfucker. 

He throws himself on the couch instead and curls up into a ball, wishing he had a big royal-size bed with soft sheets and like three or four fluffy pillows, or even a simple twin-sized one, or at least that the couch was a pull-out. 

He grabs his phone and inevitably goes where he always goes when he feels like this- his ‘people I care about’ folder. He swipes through the various pictures. The ones of himself with I.M.P. in the living world, the one he made Moxxie pose with him for with them pointing their guns at each other, the one with Millie when she still had her long hair. The one from the day of Loona’s adoption, the one he took of Stolas sleeping next to him. The selfie with Verosika, the one he secretly took of Y/N watching the screen when he first showed ‘Spirit’ to her. 

And then he lands on the one. The one with Barbie and his mom. 

Blitzø is a 35 years old single father who kills people for a living. He’s been handling his own shit for almost two decades now. But in this moment… he just wants his mama.

Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? 

What would she have thought of that?

Yeah, he should have known it would be a ‘cry himself to sleep’ kind of night.

Blitzø doesn’t know for how long he’s been passed out when he wakes up disoriented. He doesn’t remember falling asleep, and that probably explains why his body ached so much with how uncomfortable the position he’d slept in was. He wakes up with the barking sounds of Loona’s special ringtone and scrambles to pick it up. 

“Loonie baby? You alright? Did something happen to you, are you hurt?”

“No, Blitz. I just- can you just come pick me up?” She sounds like she’s been crying. Fuck, no, his baby needs him. No time to be sad.

He’s up in a second. “On my way. Send me the address.” He hangs up, searching for his car keys (which he found between the couch seats) and running down the stairs.

Loona went two rings down to Gluttony for this party. It makes sense, he supposes. He’s more of a Lust Ring party kind of guy himself, but he’s heard Gluttony parties got crazy. He accelerates as fast as the shitty van will let him and gets there pretty quickly, only to find her outside, still crying.

He rolls down the window before he even stops the car completely. “Hey, Loonie. How ya doin’, you alright?”

She wipes a tear with the back of her hand and enters the car with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine! I just wanna go.” She sounds anything but fine.

He’s about to ask her what happened when some fuckface he definitely doesn’t remember calls him by name. The wrong one. “Hey! That sounds like Blitzo!”

“The ‘O’ is silent, asshole!”

“Hey, I knew it was you! Fuck, man, where you been? You here for the party?”

“No, I’m just here picking up my daughter.”

The guy walks up to Loona’s window, and she hides her face from him with her hands, embarrassed. “Oh, shit, you have a daughter now?”

“Adopted!” She yells out, and it stings a bit, regardless of being objectively true. 

“Oh, man, you’re already leaving? Things just got started! Come in and show us all up again.”

Blitzø groans, annoyed by the insistence. “No, no, thank you, but I think Loonie wants to head back now.” 

Some other weirdo approaches the van, leaning on the passenger’s window. “Huh, the hottie wants to leave?” Come on, right in front of him? 

He instinctively starts to growl. “Watch it.”

“I mean, we could stay a little longer,” Loona tells him.

He sighs. He’s not normally one to turn down a party, especially one with free booze, but he feels that’s probably what he should do.. “I think we need to go, ‘kay? I think it’s been a long night.”

“Well, these people seem to know you. Come on! I think I wanna give this another try. Pleeeeaaase?” She gives him the goddamn puppy dog eyes and she knows he can already hardly resist fulfilling her requests.

Well, if she insists. He could definitely use a drink…

“Okay, fine. Maybe one drink.”

… Or a good old night of drinking to forget.

Blitzø downs two tequila shots before he’s even made it into the house. He downs four beers at rapid speed as soon as he does manage to get inside, crushing the cans and cheering loudly when he was done, and then suddenly he finds himself saying yes to a keg stand. It’s so easy he can do it in his sleep. Fuck being too old for this, he’d never be too old to have fun. And he can handle so much more than a keg stand. “Ha-ha! That was nothing, bitch! Give me a real challenge!”

Beelzebub herself appears in front of him, seemingly materializing out of nowhere (or maybe he’s just drunk), all cheers and neon colors and psychedelic paraphernalia floating around her, and she does challenge him. “Oh yeah? Wanna fucks with the big bitch, imp boy? I got a challenge for ya.” 

Someone somewhere murmurs “He’s gonna die.”

Now that sounds like a challenge he can get behind.

Vortex walks up to them, carrying two huge gallons of something and placing them on the floor between him and the Sin. “Aaaaight, let’s do this! From Bee’s personal supply, the hardest shit there is.” He crouches down to Blitzø’s height. “You ready, my man?” 

Fuck, this better fucking kill him alright. “Bring it, barky! I will drink you under this fucking table, you have no idea what kind of night I’ve had.” He struggles trying to pry the gallon open, and Bee uses her magic or whatever to make them levitate, extending a straw from it. Of course she’d flaunt her magical powers and her easy fucking life to him.

“Alright, shit-talker, but there hasn’t been a soul yet who can beat me at my own game, so you better bring the fire, baby!.” 

“Ohh, is Queen Bee too scawed to lose to a widdle imp like me?” He bets she is. And he bets she’ll be embarrassed when she loses to him (because she is going to lose). Fucking big names like her always are. 

“Oh, okay. Let’s get it on, you little bastard!”

Vortex signs for them to begin and it takes about two seconds for Blitzø to have downed about a fourth of it already, but why stop there? He pulls the straw out and pours the drink straight into his mouth, downing the entirety of it at light speed. He’s so quick Beelzebub even stops chugging her own, amused… Concerned? Noo, no way. Amused. 

He climbs on top of the huge gallon to be at face level with her and properly rub it on her face, high on the adrenaline of it all (and perhaps a little bit on the buzz from the extremely strong drink too). “Yeah, who’s the queen now?”

Loona cheers for him loudly, and it fills him with joy when she proudly yells out “yeah! That’s my dad!” Yeah. That’s damn right. 

Bee lets her own unfinished gallon fall down to the floor and crosses her arms over her chest. Yeah, definitely impressed. “Well, fuck me. That’s a first. I haven’t had a first in a while. That was magical, seriously. Impressive. I tip my crown to you, imp boy. Respect.” Fuck her still calling him imp boy, but she’s actually admitting his victory and shes bowing to him, as she fucking should. 

She howls, every hellhound around following suit, and Blitzø feels on top of the world. 

Why does the world start spinning when you get yourself on top of it? 

He almost falls to the ground, but then he’s getting held up by a bunch of strangers like a cool-as-fuck goddamn rockstar and, shit, why had he stopped getting wasted and doing this kind of thing every night again?

He doesn’t exactly remember when people started doing body shots off of him but he does remember getting freaky with a few of them, which did very little to make him feel good and honestly felt a little gross with the amounts of drinks getting spilled all over and making things rather… sticky, but it was doing wonders to his thought problem. 

Who would have known having four strangers’ tongues inside of you at once could be a great way to muffle the unsolicited thoughts in his head?

The second those people fuck off somewhere else the thoughts come in again, though. Stolas hiding his face in shame behind the menu. Do you ever think about anyone’s feelings other than your own? Y/n unable to look him in the eye. Are you worried someday I may have enough of it as well? Fizz is gonna hate him forever. You’re not my real dad! Verosika will always regret him. We could just… talk. Or… watch a movie? Or maybe… cuddle? Y/n’s crying face, Stolas’ disappointed one. Oh, they both had such fuckable faces didn’t they? Which reminded him: he really wanted to fuck someone.

He’s making out with a guy whose name he doesn’t know and whose face he doesn’t even remember when Loona pulls him off of him. “Oh, piss on a dick! What the fuck are you doing, Blitz?”

“This guy,” he grins, pointing to the unnamed man, who now stands still behind him. Wasn’t it obvious?

“It looks like you’re in the middle of a goddamn orgy. Stop!” Oh shit. Loona saw all that? An orgy does sound like some real fucking fun right now. Wait, focus, Loona. Fuck.

“Look, I didn’t expect you to come here and see any of this, Loonie, I’m so sorry, but it’s a party! I’m just having fun with uh… uh…” he turns back around to the man Loona pulled him off of. “The fuck is your name again?”

“Dennis.”

Ew. “Christ on a stick, you would be a Dennis. Get the fuck away from me! I’m not fucking a Dennis tonight. I need a Monica or an Alejandro here, stat.” He’s genuinely surprised that works when some hunky dude pulls him into his huuuge chest. Fuck yeah. “Better.”

Loona punches his Alejandro in the face, and he sincerely doesn’t give a fuck about it, because the world is spinning again, which is weird because this time he does not feel like he’s on top of it at all. In fact, it feels like the world is the meanest dom top ever and he’s a whiny, whiny bottom just sore all over from getting spanked ‘till his ass hurt. Not in a good way.

He falls back on Loona, and she catches him. “You don’t need anyone else sucking your face, freaky weirdo.” She throws him over her shoulder. “You need to drink something other than beelzejuice.”

She pulls him into the van, and she doesn’t rush to get home, because, according to her, she can see he’s already about to throw up. No he’s not, no sir! Ma’am. Loonie. 

Whatever. 

His mind clears a little as they make their way back home, and he pulls out his phone from his back pocket. Thankfully it’s still there.

“The fuck are you doing, dumbass? That’s gonna make you dizzy.”

“Gotta… gotta draw a thing.”

“You gotta draw a thing?”

“Yeah,” he affirms, as if that was enough information for everything to be self-explanatory, even nodding his head yes for emphasis. He surprisingly manages to take his time and put real effort into doodling it, showing it to Loona before sending it.

“Does it look like I did it drunk?” He slurs, letting out an unintentional burp.

“It actually looks pretty good, Blitz.”

“Okay.” 

“So. Who’d you call stupid?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay.”

“Can you call me dad again?”

“Nope.”

“Okay.”

He presses send and clicks on Stolas’ contact next, only to see there’s an unread message in their chat.

Stols:  I’m sorry if anything I said or did offended you tonight. 

Ha. Bet you really fucking are. 

Still, he’s not Stolas’ fucking boyfriend. What was there to expect from him? Why would he expect anything? 

Blitzy: ITZ WUTEVS

To Blitzø’s surprise, Stolas begins typing immediately, as if he’d been waiting obsessively for his reply.

Stols: Next time you come over, maybe we can talk about what happened at Ozzie’s?

Talk about it? What was there to talk about? Blitzø wanted nothing more than to bury the memories of tonight the deepest under the ground he possibly could. But of course Stolas would want to talk about it.

He always wants to fucking talk about shit.

Blitzy: Y?

Stolas types for what feels like forever, and it must have been, seen that they’re now only one street from the apartment complex, before he sends in a huge-ass paragraph. 

Stols: I’m sorry! Nevermind, it’s not a big deal. I was just worried about you. You seemed very upset and you took off so fast. I’m sure things will be fine with Y/N, she likes you very much, I can see it. Maybe I read too much into everything, though. Not everything is about me, haha. I’m  glad that’s not the case. I wasn’t upset either I just wanted to make sure you weren’t and obviously you can handle a stupid joke a clown can make. Asmodeus can be very invasive in his humor, and Y/N says she’ll talk to him about it, but I thought it was funny myself. What he said about me at least. I enjoy being the subject of jest. Maybe you can say mean things to me too next time you come over. 

Now that is too much to fucking deal with right now. Which means he won’t. 

Blitzy: SHUR.

He clicks out of Stolas’ chat, taking one last glance at Y/N’s before turning his phone off. She hasn’t seen what he sent yet, and that’s actually okay. 

Loona parks the van messily, doing the same thing he’d done earlier and letting the car occupy some space from the neighbour’s spot. He doesn’t even think before asking her to fix it.  “Sweetie, could you just park it a little more to the right?”

“Why?”

Yeah, Blitzø, why do you even care? “Well I don’t want that freaky cat lady to be up my ass about it tomorrow.” Yeah, that. Sure.

She doesn’t seem to find it in her to argue or even as much as groan, simply readjusting the car. She has to carry him over her shoulder again and all he wishes on the way up this time around is that he were a little more sober. She plops him down on the couch and he curls into himself once again while she grabs him a glass of water. 

Nothing to distract him from his thoughts now. 

“I had a really shitty day,” he tells her.

“Oh, yeah? Is that why you drank like five gallons of who-knows-what?”

“I don’t want her to hate me.”

“The person you called stupid?” 

He nods, hiding his face from her when the tears start coming in. “Fuck, Fizz was right. I’m gonna die alone, aren’t I? Just a wrinkly, old, withered waste. Will you be there, Loonie?” Blitzø feels whatever consciousness he’d gained back slipping away again by the second, this time from the need to sleep rather than the alcohol. At what point did he get so tired?

“Be where?” Loona asks, and he’s too out of it to respond properly, only mumbling half-coherent things like lonely and die alone over and over. “I’ll be there, dad," she tells him anyway, and covers him with a blanket, the softest one they own. “Now go the fuck to sleep,” she orders, and he does hear it, he just doesn’t have the strength to say anything in response as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, his last thoughts being that at least he can’t think about anything while asleep and that… 

He vomits all over the living room floor. 

“Oh, fuck, I did need to throw up.”

[. . .]

You feel stupid when it’s Fizzarolli who finds you crying in Ozzie’s waiting area. He skips his way to the room, humming along to some song you can’t quite make out, and he almost doesn’t see you on his way into the office. He hears you sniffling, though, and turns to face you. It takes him a couple seconds to process that it’s you.

“Y/N? What are you doing here? Um. You okay there?”

You look up at him, but it doesn’t feel like you can say anything yet. 

“I-” He motions behind him with his thumb. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna get Ozzie. Stay here, yeah?”

You don’t even know why exactly you’d asked Stolas to send you here when you were still mad at Ozzie. Or maybe not mad. Just… sad about everything that spiraled out of what he did. 

Then again, did you even have anywhere else to go? You could absolutely not make the night worse for Millie and Moxxie by showing up at their place, thinking of Blitzø made you sad and Stolas was not an option. You had Ozzie, though. And you know you always will, despite whatever stupid shit one of you might do. 

And it honestly beats going home to a big pile of nothing. 

Ozzie appears shortly, Fizz having done as promised and fetched him. Fizz doesn’t come back, though, letting you and Ozzie have a moment to talk on your own, which is nice of him.  

“Hey, pretty babe. Fizz said you were here.” He looks you up and down, worried. “Are you crying?”

“Why did you do that?” 

“What?”

“Why did you fucking sing about all that, why did you- it was so humiliating, Oz, fuck!”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. It got out of control. I didn’t even know you would be here tonight. You didn’t call me.”

“I didn’t know I was coming either.”

“You wanna tell me what that means?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Alright. That’s okay. I am sorry, though. We took the joke too far and I realized too late that it wasn’t funny.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t. So please don’t fucking do that again. It’s humiliating enough to… fuck... and everybody saw it, and- I…” You groan in frustration, struggling to get your words out. 

“No more about Stolas or any of you. Okay? Promise.” He sits down next to you on the fancy couch and he lets you lean on him. “Did something happen between you?”

You hesitate before speaking. “I didn’t- I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe I am stupid. Of course he’s ashamed to be seen with us.”

“Stolas?”

You nod. 

“Did he… tell you that?”

“Well he didn’t deny it.”

“Okay." He takes a deep breath, probably trying to think of how to handle the situation. "You’ll have time to think about all of this. Alright? Now you’re coming with me, you’re taking a bath and you’re sleeping over, and we’ll talk about everything tomorrow. There’s no need to hurt yourself more thinking about it right now.”

He stands up and turns to leave the room, but looks back when he doesn’t hear you do the same. You’re still sat sit still on the couch.

You look up at him. “Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

“What?”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” You repeat yourself.

“What- of course not. Did somebody say that to you?”

You don’t reply. 

He purses his lips together, thinking. “Are they worth feeling stupid for?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve gone through this before.”

“It’s different, you know that.”

“Yeah, it’s worse. They’re not hurting you back this time around, they’re just hurting you.”

You decide he was right. You don't want to talk about this right now. “Can we please not talk about it?”

He hesitates before nodding in agreement. “Yeah. ‘Course, babe.” He grabs your hands and pulls you up. “Come on.”

All the crying makes you so tired you’re almost passed out the second you lie down on the soft, silky bedsheets of Ozzie's guest room bed. Taking a look through your texts before you let yourself fall asleep, you click on Stolas’ contact once you see a notification for an unread text. 

Stolas: I am truly sorry if I did something to hurt you or make you uncomfortable with me tonight. It’s not your obligation to talk Asmodeus  out of doing anything and I did not feel embarrassed because of you or Blitz. If you need space from me I will understand, but I want you to know that is not how I feel. And, for the record, I don’t care what that Verosika person said about you. I hope you’re alright. 

It is way too late and you are way too tired to process or deal with all of that, and honestly? You still do feel stupid, and don’t want to further that feeling by replying to him immediately. That feels too pathetic- it feels like proving Blitzø right.

You’ll reply tomorrow.

You click on Blitzø’s contact next, which also had a notification signaling an unseen message, and you brace yourself for a 'fuck you’ text or something of the sorts. 

You can't keep yourself from smiling when you open the text, turning the phone off and just waiting for sleep come to you, and things feel a lot less shitty than just a second before.

Having friends is pretty fucking okay.

A/N: everybody say thank you @sweetadonisbutbetter and also wish them a happy birthday!! the adorable little doodle blitzo drew is theirs and they did it especially so i could put it in this chapter which is so nice of them and so fucking cool!!

[thinkingofausername]

Mutual Misunderstanding (Astarion x Tav)

Summary: Tav has doubts after sleeping with Astarion and leaves him to wake up alone. He draws the worst conclusion.

A/N: This was my first attempt at writing a fanfic and MAN do I have even more respect for fic writers than I already did. This is based on a request/prompt of mine that I posted some time ago.

CW: mention of sex, insecurity, mental health issues, PTSD, mention of noncon, mention of vomiting, bad coping mechanisms, miscommunication, it all ends well though

Tav woke up with the bright heat of the morning sun on their face. They rubbed their eyes and stretched with a pleased sigh before looking at their surrounding. When their gaze fell on Astarion, something in them tightened their chest and pulled the corners of their lips into a small, giddy smile.

For a person doomed to have the sun as his enemy, he looked divine in its glow. His soft curls looked even whiter than usual, his face uncommonly peaceful. No smirk, no snark, just his features, so soft and off guard it caused a fondness to bloom in their chest.

His shirtless chest rose and fell calmly, though he needn't take any breaths at all. Some phantom need, or habit, perhaps. Though his skin was like marble, practically golden in the light, it arose no heat within them. They simply found him beautiful.

They recalled the previous night like a warm, panting, thrilling rush of glimpses. Though filled with passion led by quite an experienced person, they found themselves seeing it as quite... genuine. Astarion knew they haven't had many experiences in the sheets and that they found themselves at a loss at what to do. He gently took the reigns and they had felt genuine safety and care.

Like the sudden feeling of grass beneath their naked back as grogginess gives way for clarity, some overthinking, insecure voice reared its head and paved the way for regret.

All the caresses felt smooth as silk, how many others felt them? All the whispers and rumbles of his voice toyed with their heartbeats, how many others can recall that? All the promises of pleasure and consent reassured them, how many others have had their doubts quelled in such ways?

All that had felt so true and blissful was rapidly becoming nauseating. With all the countless "dances" of his, how can one know spontaneous steps from practiced ones? How could they be sure they were pleasurable enough, appealing enough, exciting enough? They felt a new chapter turning for the two of them, a genuine and loyal one. Now they weren't sure of anything. Now they felt foolish, naïve, played. Gods forgive them, they cared for Astarion so much, but that damned elven, bastardly, precious vampire had them feeling like a cheap one-night-stand. They couldn't blame him but they couldn't think either.

As quickly and quietly as possible, they got dressed and rushed back towards the camp.

When Astarion woke up, he turned on his side towards Tav's smell which still lingered and reached out. His eyes sprang open as his hand met only air and ground. It took him a second to gather himself, remember where he was and what he had been doing. He couldn't even think of the fact he had slept without a nightmare in gods know how long, or that last night was a rarity during which he was fully and gladly present. Any good feelings got thrust into the background as an all too familiar one washed over him.

He couldn't even tell if it was his voice or Cazador's ringing in his head. "You were weak. You put your guard down. You enjoyed yourself. You are a fool. You are a dirty, cheap body to be gripped and groped and thrown away. You are a temporary pleasure with no face and no voice."

If he had a mortal body, he surely would've vomited.

A too complicated clashing of reasonings overwhelmed him. "They used you, but of course they did. Why are you even surprised? You approached them for your own gain, why would you expect a transaction to turn into anything real? Just swallow your trivial feelings and move on." And yet on the other hand - he had felt it was becoming real. It never should've, he never planned for it, but it happened. He subconsciously gave it a chance and look where it got him. Feeling like a naïve fool.

He got dressed, doing it mechanically through memories of filth, bruises, a ringing in his ears and a painful and shameful throbbing between his legs. He walked back to camp, readying his charm on the way.

When he approached them in camp, it felt like a play. Like last night was an episode and they were now back on track.

"Hello, darling", he purred, "Was the walk here terribly difficult? I imagine after last night's... performance, your legs would be quite shaky."

"I'm... fine."

"Well... that's good to hear. We wouldn't want our precious leader experiencing any unwanted effects after sleeping with the nasty, suspicious vampire, now would we?"

Something felt so terribly wrong and regretful. They found no humor in his smirk, no charm in his expertly seductive voice. They just saw... hurt. Poorly disguised at that.

"Wait, Star, I feel like there's a misunderstanding here. Can we just-"

"Oh, so it's 'Star' now, is it? See that's funny, I thought nicknames and other such mushy things were reserved for couples, not late night trysts. But what would I know, after all I have bedded many a person but not one have I greeted in the morning, so don't take my word for anything."

It felt like everything was falling apart with no prior warning, like last night was a crucial moment and they missed out on some defining que.

"Astarion, can we please talk? Something's gone wrong here."

"Whatever do you mean, darling? Nothing's wrong. We had fun last night, lots of fun I might add, and now it is the next day, simple as that. There's nothing to talk about. Now, let's leave this dramatic business behind us and move on, shall we?"

"Astarion, I-"

"Darling, I think we've used our mouths more than enough last night, let's give them a break, yes?"

As he sauntered off, the sinking feeling rattled. In a matter of hours, it seems whatever they had built has managed to fall apart and put them back at the start.

Astarion had quite a talent for ignoring a person while giving them attention. It was the most ironic, painful thing they had witnessed in a long while. He responded, but they felt it would've hurt less if he had stayed quiet. He kept charming, and they yearned for every uncovered softness they had managed to receive from him.

Whenever they attempted to talk to him, either another companion needed them, or Astarion went on a hunt, or they needed to get moving. A few days passed when they got desperate.

"Astarion, we have to talk."

That was it, he thought. He was finally getting thrown away. He tried pretending everything was fine, but he knew that couldn't be the case. They had tasted the only valuable thing about him and they needed nothing else from him.

"Hello, my sweet." His voice almost shook. Gods, he can feel his throat getting tighter. "Do you need something?"

They were still struggling to understand what exactly happened between them, but all they knew at the moment was that Astarion seemed strangely nervous. Afraid, even.

"Easy, Star. I really just want to clear some things up."

"Well... did something happen?"

"Something did, I would just like to know what."

"Whatever could you mean, darling? Things have been perfectly fine."

"Star, please. There's been enough of this. We've been growing more and more distant after a night when we were closer than ever, it really doesn't make sense."

"Darling, if we were to get any closer than we were that night, we would become conjoined", he said with a strained chuckle.

"Okay...", they sighed, "I know that whatever we did some nights ago was a dance very familiar to you and so it likely meant nothing special to you, but it did to me. I'm sorry if I have managed to ruin things between us, but I just couldn't digest the thought of it meaning so little when it felt like so much."

"Oh no, no, no. Wait a gods damned minute, darling. I feel you might have mixed up our lines somehow. 'Likely meant nothing to me'? You're the one who was conveniently absent the following morning, or has the worm messed with my memory?"

He seemed shocked, a bit angry and against all his effort and hesitation, hopeful.

"I...", they huffed a sigh of realization with a small, self-deprecating smile. "It seems I misread your intentions. I'm sorry, Star, I really never meant to hurt you."

His relief was very apparent.

"It's alright, my sweet. I might've also, perhaps, let my dark thoughts get the better of me. It seems old habits truly do die hard. But just to be sure - that night... did mean something, to the both of us?"

"It certainly seems so."

"Well. That is good to know. I'm not sure where this leaves us though."

"Me neither. I've never really done things like this before."

"Reassuring news, truly. I was about to start feeling a bit... lacking, in the area."

"Then we can lack together."

"That doesn't sound so bad", he said with a chuckle and a softness in his eyes they had missed so much.

"Then let's raise an imaginary toast to figuring things out", they said with their hand raised as if holding a glass.

"You're positively ridiculous, my sweet. But yes", he said raising his own "glass", "and also to not leaving me to wake up alone on the dirt as if I had been robbed and knocked unconscious."

"That too. I really am sorry, Star."

"Oh, it's quite alright. Just don't do it again."

"Pinky promise?"

"Now you're overdoing it."

They chuckled as they finally felt the heaviness in the air between them dissipate.

[losersiren]

Yandere! Vault Dweller

N: I just finished the Fallout show, went on YouTube and fell down a rabbit hole of lore about the game. I decided Vault 11 shall be sacrificed (hehe). Everything I put in this fic is from the videos I've watched and the fan wiki, so it's like semi-accurate… Cw: talks about suicide, suicide (not the reader), violence, yandere tendencies, gore(?), death, manipulation, coercion, talks of death, should be gn! reader safe.... if not, put me in the chamber WC: 2.2k

Quiet. It was quiet. The silence is deafening, yet the ringing in your ear grows louder and louder, each second feeling as if eons had passed. The automated computer voice repeats in your head like a catchy song you’ll hear on those dusty records, the ones Mama used to play and dance to.

“Congratulations, citizens of Vault 11! You have made the decision not to sacrifice one of your own. You can walk with your head held high, knowing that your commitment to human life is a shining example to us all. And to make that feeling of pride even sweeter, I have some exciting news. Despite what you were led to believe, the population of Vault 11 is not going to be exterminated for its disobedience. Instead, the mechanism to open the main vault door has now been enabled, and you can come and go at your leisure. But not so fast! Be sure to check with your overseer to find out if it's safe to leave. Here at Vault-Tec, your safety is our number one priority.”

You were young when your parents escaped the bombs to the vault you're situated in right now; you grew up believing that damned computer about sacrifices and watched your fellow vault mates get killed one by one. You waited for the time it would be you in that same chamber. Now, with this information surfaced…they died for what? An experiment? What would have happened if you had been voted overseer…

The lump in your throat grows heavier, and the arguments and yelling in the background become more and more apparent that you can't ignore them anymore. Your eyes drift to the man standing tall and proud beside you, Charli, his hair still somehow slick back; he still looks perfect even after the maddening chaos of events that transpired these past few days. His blue jumpsuit was as crisp as an ironed suit that the actors would wear from the moving pictures on television before the vault. His expression is as vacant as his blue eyes, his soft lips decorated with a barely visible smile. As he watches the other three vault survivors argue, Your brows furrow. 

Why isn’t he affected by the news like everyone else? This information is soul-crushing and life-changing!

Then again, you reason with yourself that maybe this is his way of coping; who are you to judge and microanalysis him like some psycho? Perhaps it’s the lack of sleep or the sense of safety ripped out of your hand like candy stolen from a baby. Heavens, you might nearly flip your lid entirely if something else happens. You sigh. To believe you almost were insinuating that Charli would even be a drop suspicious, and of what, exactly? He saved and shielded you from the massacre that only left the five of you remaining; he was your childhood best friend..how could you? You reprimand yourself.

His eyes finally meet yours, and the sympathy and worry you sought appeared when the blonde saw how distressed you were. “Are you alright?” his soft voice fills your head–drowning out the talks of whether the group should commit suicide in honour of your dead vault men or venture into the outside world to educate others on how your vault was misled. You were somewhat dissociated from the whole conversation. Reasonably so.

His hands, soft yet calloused, turn your head side to side to check for any visible injuries he might’ve missed, which he shouldn’t have—knitted eyebrows and razor-sharp eyes search frantically for anything. 

Charles or… As you’ll call him later in your relationship, Charlie, has always been like this. When you met him, he was a reserved kid, a trait that would carry on from his pubescent to adolescent years. 

When other kids grew out of their shyness and worrisome attitude and eventually adapted to the vault, he was pushed aside. Well, that wouldn’t be the only reason. His father was the first overseer of Vault 11, the same overseer who thought the best course of action was not to tell the vault residents about the sacrificial system they were now to live with. That same choice he made was the reason for his death, and he was the first to test the new system. He wasn’t a good man. He was greedy, a neglectful father and husband, and so on. A family now ruined by one man’s ill-considered decision; Charles's mom wasn’t much better, the textbook definition of a hypocrite. Bad-mouthing her dead husband, the same one she defended when said husband would push his son away.

Most would fear having no one at the end of the world, but it became Charles's life; while everyone adapted to vault life, Charles adapted to the misfortune of the consequences of his old man’s actions. You decided one day to talk to him while others stood clear. It was a simple conversation; others would just brush it off…which he did initially. But after that day, you would constantly seek him out, and with that, you wore a genuine smile and interest every time you talked to him. His walls crumbled into dust for you and only you. You were like a shooting star he wished for. His reputation grew because of you and, with that, his feelings for you sored. You became his way of life. In his teen years, he decided to become the best match for you– He would participate in every extracurricular activity the vault would provide to make him an unstoppable force of a man. The perfect golden boy was made..for you.

He had the “perfect body,” perfect sperm count, unmatched intelligence, and charisma—he perfected them (even if you were the only one he talked to for long periods)—strength, agility, endurance—all of it. He will be everything you need and more. With that, he made sure no one would vote you as overseer…

He was so soft on you that it would rival feathers. Do you need help lifting that? He's already there. Do you need help with your pre-war history? He’ll just sit you down and study with you for hours. Are you bleeding from an accidental cut? Don’t worry he just finished his first aid training. He already had a plan for you both for everything that would happen.

Everything

“I’m fine…” You grab both of his hands gently. “...Well, not fine, fine, but I'm not hurt.” You smile weakly up at him. “It’s okay. You and I will get through this,” He coos, pushing strands of your hair away from your face and behind your ear. His touch is warm and tender, yet the words you hear next aren’t.

“Fuck..I..I can’t do this I’m sorry.” A man, short in stature, starts backing away, gun in hand, clearly distressed. Your eyes move away from Charli’s to your fellow survivor; unknowingly to you, Charli rolls his eyes at the man's “dramatics.”  “We don’t deserve to leave...That thing called us a shiny example..f..f.fucked! Thats fucked! I..I can’t live with that!” Another man says, “Anyone would’ve done what we did.” A woman comments, “You ask me? That's exactly the problem. Now, let’s get on with this.”

“Wait,” you say, stunned, as if he had predicted this would happen. Charles moves his hands to cover your eyes. The short man is first, putting his gun on the roof of his mouth and pulling the trigger, not sparing any more time; the woman is next, the second gunshot. Then, with a sigh and short prayer, the last man repeats the action done by the others. Each lifeless body hits the floor one by one, and then there is silence.

What the hell.

You try to understand the situation, but your brain has yet to catch up…it’s all too much. Charli whispers calming phrases while he shields your eyes with one hand and rubs patterns along your back with the other. Tears start rolling down your face…and you sob. Hard. His hand moves to pet your hair, soothing you while you let it all out of your system.

He moves his body to shield you from the gruesome events that have just taken place; he moves both of his hands and cradles your face. You try looking behind him out of curiosity, but he stops you before you can.”Hey! Look at me with those gorgeous eyes,” He mummers, and of course, you comply. “There we go. You listen to me so well,” he whispers lovingly. “Here’s what we’re going to do. We’ll both go back to my vault room. I have enough supplies for the both of us to survive outside for a while, okay?” He asks you, and you nod, agreeing to whatever he says. 

“I need to hear you say it..” 

“…yes, of course, whatever you think is best.” He smiles at you, thumb caressing your cheek. “Keep your eyes on me, okay?” He takes your hand and leads you through the halls. It's quiet… you don't like it. Your eyes are trained on his back, Charli…he’s your lifebuoy in the angry sea, the only thing keeping you afloat; if it wasn’t for him…you might’ve met your end with the others. As if sensing your inner turmoil, he squeezes your hand, comforting you…and you squeeze back. Your world just fell apart, yet…it doesn’t seem entirely gone with Charli by your side. 

It's only a short time till you reach his vault. You’ve been here so many times it's basically your room by now. The tall blonde turns to look at you. “I’m going to let you go, just for a second, okay..? I just need to get the supplies.” He holds your one hand with both of his– you reply with a soft okay, and with your permission, he starts to move. He moves towards his small desk to grab a small, flat-headed screwdriver, walks to a particular spot, and pops the floor title beneath him, revealing a hidden compartment. It's filled with two modular military backpacks, filled to the bream with necessities for outside the vault.

He was prepared for all of this…

Then he starts talking about what he has in mind for the two of you, settling on the surface of living together and everything. Charles gets lost when talking to you; he can speak his mind about almost anything, and rambling is second nature with you. The hermit turned a social butterfly in your presence.

“You know that computer may have been our downfall, but god did bless me with more information than I could handle…good thing, huh, glad I went through all that code…Vault-tec tried to make it secure, but I found a way...We could go somewhere called New Vegas…” He keeps talking. 

But you stand there, still, as a statue, looking down at him as he gathers everything…What did he just say? 

You think back to the start when killing between the blocs started..he was right there, ready to protect you, when you and the other surviving tested out if the chamber would kill all of you…he almost seemed to be too assured nothing bad would happen to any of you, almost like…no…no. You’re overthinking, right? But the more you listen…

“You knew…” you shakingly exclaim out loud, cutting him off. “Hmm?” He looks up at you as he puts the tile back…” You knew we didn’t need sacrifices…you knew it would play out like this…” you say louder and more confidently. Those once-homey blue eyes become cold and distant… analyzing you.  

You both stare at each other.

You turn and run.

 But your efforts are in vain; you don’t even leave the room before two muscular arms wrap around behind you, overtaking you, holding your arms down around your waist, dragging you back. You scream and kick with no success. You end up with his arms around you while he sits down, his back against the wall, and you in front of him with his head in your neck while you let it all out. “When?” you croak out, “When we were fifteen, I didn’t want you to become overseer…I didn’t want you to die..so I wondered if it was the computer that sent signals to kill whoever was sent in that chamber and wondered if I could stop it from killing you specifically; that's when I found out .” He answers swiftly and truthfully, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?” You question, “I didn’t care, honestly, the only thing that matters is you…If everyone died in the process, it would be less work for me…I wanted it to be us from the beginning, anyway. I want you to need me as much as I need you…and now you finally do.”  

You feel weak and sick to your stomach… All your peers would’ve ended up dead either way. “I want to leave.” he hums, not mocking you but in acknowledgment. “And do what? You don’t know how to defend yourself; you have no supplies prepared, barely any survival instincts, and you don’t even know any information on the surface above. You can leave, but you’ll die…I can’t let that happen, sorry.” Charles buries himself more into you. 

“I hate you,” You whisper.

“That’s okay…all that matters is that you're here…with me and only me… I’ll keep you safe and sound.”

N: This was a long one, whew! I had to think about how I could make a Yandere fic with Fallout, and I had tons of concepts, but this one stood out the most. I hope my execution was good enough....Anyway, my next fic will most likely be a jealous fic about my Yandere lord, so stay tuned! Till then! see you soon my little guppies (´꒳`)♡ extra note: Throughout writing this, I thought "My Way of Life by Frank Sinatra" would fit Charli perfectly.

[saoirseyun]

━━━━FIGURE IT OUT, MY BAD HABIT.

⸝⸝ x fem!secretary!reader

IN WHICH━━ beast!dazai can't seem to find himself to love you back any further than what you two currently have.

CONTENT WARNING━━ angst, emotional hurt no comfort, arguements, fear of commitment, lack of proper communication, manipulative behaviors where both parties may be at fault*, sick and or twisted narrations, unhealthy coping mechanisms, sexual imagery, proceed with caution.

AUTHOR'S NOTE━━ written for a fantastic writer, @moomuzan. definitely check out ella's works every now and then if you got the time to—swear on my life, you wouldn't get hurt :]

WORD COUNT━━ 1.7k words, proofread

—He's implicitly tense tonight.

Maybe much more tense than normal, you'd eventually notice. After how he's hardly safekeeping those stiff emotions in check, his face in itself was becoming all too transparent for the eye's witness; your boss—the leader of Port Mafia himself—Dazai unable to stabilize his own nerves.

Why can't he; why must it have to be now, of all times? A begrudge—horrible look to his expression that blur between such nervous eyebrows and lips, the more you stared, and the longer he hesitates. It dishearten you, of rigid sensations from Dazai's skin in itself despite coming to be used to such sweet specks from those fingers, his hands... Eyes were barely ever on yours either tonight—anxious. And knowing Dazai he isn't a man to subject the tenderness of the heart.... It's inevitable to say that it's foreign to observe, closely, he's failing breaths and tearing his own body apart in that brain. You loosen your own grasp of his hand, the way it trembles shyly little by little.

He pulls away last second from your kiss, the thumb lazing on your delicious lips strokes itself away as Dazai took a step back and stares downward to your pretty face. He's not so confident, where as taking the move without drawled backs or even regretting to take it as his own, sort of confidence. Especially the sudden pause in Dazai's maple eyes and just knowing you'll be too intoxicating for him, he'd think. Was all he ever thinks inching away from you. "Do you still know what you're getting yourself into?" Dazai ensures,

And this? Far too often has this happen, for god's sake. A damn hassle just to get Dazai convinced enough that he does maybe loves you the fullest of his heart.

"...Dazai-san, please, it's obvious enough." Bathed breath evaporates from those shaky, tired lips. Frustration felt against the once comforting closure with Dazai... your brows knit together. "I've already told you about it time after time, why are you reacting this way?"

"I only desire to make sure so."

"...You're my secretary, are you not? I don't know much about you yet."

When you've lean your head to the side and take a couple moments blindly admire his brown eyes. Only, to some degree frizzled with the liberal strands of his brunet hair in the way—oh naturally so, you'd take the sweet time fixing Dazai's unkempt front bangs. He, in himself, maybe can only do very much less as he fixates his watch on you.

"It can't be."

You say, softly, rather defensively. Touch for touch, you felt his body beneath your hand. "You weren't one to act so hesitant." Which can be said towards anything he does. You've come to learn his sweet little mannerisms and etiquette regarding anything. "So what is it, 'samu? What's gotten into your head?"

But asking that is the worst possible thing you could've done imaginable right now. Watch attentively now—the click of his tongue and slipping those fine digits off from yours.

"Listen, we..."Dazai stops himself. A flick of his slim hand off the delicate skin that is your cheeks, a shift to his demeanor. "We've brought this up a couple of times. I'm still sure of that... However, I—"

"—can't have myself falling in love like this. Nor could I even let you."

He'd reminded—ramble on how it's too dangerous for you to be this close this life more than only being his secretary. Strictly. You weren't going to stand right there and listen, were you? You two—you two can make it out! Have it work, it's proven. Time after time, you and Dazai only seems natural to become a couple. How could he say those kinds of words so casually? What kind of sick freak. Frantic to think for some sort of explanation before—

"And why not? It's as difficult enough to make myself come to admit all of... this! My love!" You weren't even anticipating those same insults to blurt out your lips. To the palpable air and terrible, terrible vibe. "Now you're right here in front of me, telling that you're not allowed?" A scoff, "You've kissed my mouth several other times before, held this hand of mine into yours and just keeping each other as close as possible..." ...It scares you to think. To think that, perhaps, nonetheless the times he had mutter delectable, sweet words to your ear in times of need—private rendezvous underneath rain's cover or the safety of his locked office space—Dazai's an all-talk attitude. Albeit having the kind of demeanor of a sicken, lonely freak who's quite the gentleman regardless in reality. You've come to know him deeper by now, delicate, close, genuine, raw. Yet here you stand in the moment—doubting your own head.

...Guessing that it could potentially even be what Dazai wants all along—playing, foolish through your head and loosen the guard of your own senses. And him? He was disappointed with the ignorant faces you're making, unaware. "Please, now, my precious bella. Don't think of me so lowly. I'm not like myself as... much as I would like today. Trust me, have a little faith in me?" For your beloved? Yes, yes. A thousand times—without second thoughts or barely some times to think it thoroughly more. Definitely. Now? What about now? You'd think, not at all. "...Osamu, you're not sugarcoating me into believing that. I hate it when you try sweet talk on me too, y'know!?"

"I'm not trying anything." He'd raise his hands in defense. Headlock a terrifying shiver to the ear and falling to his spine as Dazai frowns at your reaction.

And then, you're tense. Tenser than ever.

Now, he'll ask himself, what has he done wrong? Can't you get it? You agreed to make it casual too, nothing serious—thus nothing more. It harms the heart nevertheless of such nonchalant words and mentally damaging, that's the jist. For some reason you've felt truer affection for the Port Mafia boss.

He's right on the money. You never wanted committment either from the start.

"Just take a look at us! I mean, it's been some time since we've began to privately date one another and I'm coming to realize that maybe I belong with you." It was exactly... naïve-esque much to Dazai's expectations. That desperate almost glint in the reflection of your darling eyes and such insistence. Kind of blissfully unaware which makes it all come crashing down in a major offense. Sorry if it hurts you in a way, surely he would've thought too alongside that in his head.

"That right there... That is one major problem."

A direct slap to your face, is what it all felt him muttering those words coldly with the bare minimum to pause and... Think. Think about you. Of certain love. "You're only getting it in your head! Don't act so cowardly to it."

"...[name], what I'm doing is for your benefit to be safe and sound—out of every fucking mess I get into with Mafia work. Now it won't even be smart and get with me... What's it to you, stubborn woman? You're a mere assistant to me; You shouldn't be explicitly involved."

Must he mistaken you to a underling? Working for a year under the organization's belt, you stood by Dazai's side for more than a single 12 months... You've felt the heart gone to hell and return between conflict after conflict, an unending cycle of relentless violence, blood smudge to the floors and grounds until the building themself stink of death and rotten flesh.

It's vile.

You can't help the words your mouth involuntarily spoke out in rebel to Dazai's repetitive rejection. Perhaps you did, or even not— "We can still be together and have that same level of security!" Is what you argue. Maybe double—or triple is what an unrealistic dream seems to be, but it can't hurt and imagine sometimes towards on that.

It was in the heat of the moment specifically why you won't back down, however.

As much as temptation touches the heart of his in sound of that ideal life, the two of you knew that deep down, it remains as nothing more as an ideal for another life instead. It's dangerous, life-threatening. If he falls for you now, it'll all collapse under a swift gaze of brute enemies dying of bloodthirst. That's all, all he ever knew. Ponder longer and for once the mafioso might be able to snap out of frustration, agony. Pain to what can't be have in his bandaged hands or held even a fraction near his bruised wrists. In shock, Dazai didn't notice the insult your lips blurt out, failure to comprehend after thought. Better yet, why must Dazai wonder about the whole ordeal now—his problematic worries and indescribable hyperbole fears. The man would've overthink and handle the situation at hand with ease... Thus maybe resting another couple of bottles last night was not the brightest.

Without a second to talk back you take in the irritation. "...Actually, y'know what? I don't even know why I agreed to this relationship." But fine, it was fun and scandalous to mess around oh so unprofessional with the man who's status much stands higher than you, wasn't it? Don't lie. Enter the office and share a brief kiss, exchange little gifts every now and then but often suggest a quickie or two on the chair—maybe his desk that you just so happen to enjoy ruining out of pleasure and sadism.

You turn from Dazai. Facing the flat exit in view, only the heel of your feet readying to walk away.

"I'll spell it out, though. I won't get sick for who you are but instead for what."

"I know I'll be in your heart until the end." Dazai observes how furious you would've been, rushing out of the office at once. "...You'll miss me, but don't beg me, babe."

...It is what it is. After that very last time of an encounter holding him as if Dazai was truly nothing but your own, you'll quit; first thing in the morning, and that settles it. Regardless of Dazai's disapproval.

You can't help but wonder if he really did meant well.

postscript: i knew that writing this kind of dynamic could be delicate, complex, and or even complicated to write in a way the [narrator] can't stand on either side; a losing battle where neither are satisfied and feels unhealthy. i guess that's the appeal to stubborn, rehashed arguements particularly anyway. id want the reader make up their own conclusion.

~from south korea with love, 수빈

[latenightbreezeinheaven]

Solar return chart observations (2019)

Scorpio rising at 29 degrees

🌪️That year was my most traumatic year.

🌪️There were countless transformations (mostly endings and also new life-changing beginnings) in that year.

🌪️I lost many friends. I got gossiped by the whole class. The whole class didn’t talk to me. I was slut-shamed and they even spread rumors about me being pregnant while I was just gaining some weight. I was notorious with bad reputation in my school. My first love left me. I tried to run away with my first love. My parents caught me and grounded me for several months. I was literally in solitude. I had no one by my side. Both emotionally and physically. I can even write a whole damn book about this year.😭

🌪️However, I learned how to stay alone happily in that year. (It was not an option. The universe was like BAM you need to encounter THIS to achieve THIS success or whatsoever😃).

🌪️My whole personality before and after that year was so different that no one couldn’t recognize me after that year when I went back to school.

Moon in 1st house conjuncts ascendant (in Sagittarius at 0 degrees)

🌪️Maybe due to these traumatic events, my emotions were running high all the time.

🌪️Even though I tried to hide my pain and act like a typical scary silent scorpio rising, people still attacked me because I looked so vulnerable.

🌪️I cried almost everyday in that year.

🌪️Also I gained weight like A LOT MY FACE WAS LIKE AN ENORMOUS MEAT DUMPLING👹👹👹

**I also notice that I gained weight so easily last year when I had scorpio rising even though my moon was in 7th house in Taurus. Might be because of Taurus moon but Idk, scorpio rising year scares me hell a lot now.😺**

Jupiter in 1st house (in Sagittarius at 18 degrees)

🌪️I gained tons of weight because of my only coping mechanism : binge eating and also due to covid and quarantine.

🌪️I felt like food was the only escape in my life and I gained like 60 lbs.🤦🏻‍♀️

🌪️However, I had lucky academic opportunities.

🌪️I had to change my tuition because everyone including the teachers slut-shamed me and only because of that transformation, I finished high school with high marks and now I’m in medical school.

🌪️Thanks to my new teachers from new tuition and also those stupid bitches who believed everything they heard without clearly thinking as grown-up adults.😍

Saturn conjunct Pluto in 2nd house (in Capricorn)

🌪️My self-esteem declined so low that I rarely even went out in that year.

🌪️I felt like no one wanted me and I questioned about my worth like thousand times.

🌪️Throughout the year, transformations related to self-worth and self-love questioned my existence.

🌪️I was always thinking like “do I even deserve to eat this or go to this or be friends with them?” every damn time my mom asked me what I needed and every time someone approached me.

Neptune and Lilith in 4th house (in Pisces)

🌪️My whole family was very confused about me.

🌪️They even thought I was possessed by some ghost because I acted very unusual eg I couldn’t control my anger and I kinda self-sabotaged and I just bursted out and cried so suddenly when I was at home (that was just my trauma response I mean I don’t really know how they expected me to act after all those punishment they gave me and personal attacks received from my ex-mates)😺.

🌪️My parents kept really close eyes on me because they were worried that I would commit su-ici-de and they also had their respective assumptions about me but at the same time, they also outcasted me and thought I was really a slut who slept with lots of men because I did many reckless things without thinking about consequences.

🌪️I also often had intense vivid dreams and nightmares.

🌪️I was addicted to vapes and used them secretly in my room in that year.

🌪️So effed up🔫

Chiron in 5th house (in Aries)

🌪️My first love broke my heart.

🌪️My first serious heartbreak.

🌪️I had to take about 9 months to fully move on from him.

🌪️My inner child got hurt and my creativity and self-expression left my soul in that year.

🌪️I lost my silly child-like spirit in that year.

Uranus in 6th house (in Taurus at 5 degrees)

🌪️At first I was planning to study really hard to prepare for my matriculation exam but due to covid, there were huge unexpected changes in my routines and habits.

🌪️My plans got ruined.

Venus in 7th house conjuncts Amor (in Gemini)

🌪️Amor asteroid represents soulmate.

🌪️I met my first love and fell in love with him like a fool.

🌪️Everyone warned me because they saw red flags🚩🚩🚩🚩but I was blindly in love and was like “I’m gonna marry him”😭😭.*dies of embarrassment*

🌪️That was my first time that I gave actual commitment to someone and I felt like he was my soulmate.

🌪️I couldn’t let go of him for so long.

🌪️I wrote songs about him.

🌪️I wrote short stories about him.

🌪️It was bitter-sweet but now it’s just a memory.🌌

Sun in 7th house (in Gemini)

🌪️My main focus was on relationships relationships RELATIONSHIPS and I strongly desired to build meaningful social connections rather than superficial ones in that year.

🌪️My hidden enemies also pulled their masks off lmao I had to deal with them the whole year because they kept saying things about me that I didn’t even know I did.😩

Mercury conjunct mars in 8th house (in Cancer)

🌪️I remember that I was fully in my hermit mode the year I had this placement.

🌪️I searched articles about how to attack those arseholes spiritually but didn’t really take an action because I believed in karma.🧘🏻‍♀️

🌪️I was always reading books about magic, detective, occult and death and I even thought about committing a su-ici-de because I was severely depressed.

🌪️I was alone but also so blunt (I think I was just trying to protect myself) every time someone tried to befriend me.

🌪️I cursed a lot and my anger issues were like high up in the sky that one time, the wall cracked because I punched while I was angry and I’m just A GIRL🎀💕🥰).

Vertex in 9th house (in Leo at 15 degrees)

🌪️Maybe because of all of this, I started to pray to Buddha every single day in that year.

🌪️I suddenly became so religious and I felt like I only had him by my side.

🌪️My beliefs about religion expanded and I started to learn about other religions too in that year.

🌪️Also fated events occurred at my school so yeah vertex can say a lot about your upcoming year.

🌪️Immediately CHECK YOUR VERTEX IN YOUR SOLAR RETURN CHART RIGHT NOW!!!🥱

My scorpio ascendant was in my natal 5th house

🌪️My main focus was on relationships and dating as I’ve already said.

🌪️I also think I was so fertile in that year or maybe horny?

🌪️I wanted to get pregnant with my first love and I was only 14 at that time💀💀💀 (I know I was so silly but I was just a kid so I forgive myself for that *dies of embarrassment again*).

🌪️Sex education and vapes and drugs might be normal for teenagers in western countries but in my country, they’re like really taboo topics and parents biggest nightmare was their drug addict children getting pregnant😭.

🌪️Almost everyone did not dare to discuss about those openly in those days.

🌪️Also I was just 14 at that time so it’s not my parents’ fault that they stopped me and restricted me too much but however, their punishment was directed in a wrong way and that’s why I had to find other ways to suppress my pain. I don’t know who to blame, myself or those so-called friends or my parents😭.

So in conclusion, it was a very hard year and very life-changing and unforgettable but it shaped me into who I am today so I’m really happy to receive all of those new experiences. English is not my first language so please bear with me if I made some mistakes.🫰🏼💕

Also you can ask me about two placements (maximum) you want from your solar return chart. I’ll answer them as soon as I get free time.❤️

My mood in 2019 as GIF be like:

[theshipden]

How would the main 6 react to finding out Mc has ptsd?

Cracks knuckles oh baby as someone with C-PTSD this is my JAM

Julien;

He listens to your explanation, never breaking eye contact. He understands, he’s a doctor, he talks you through it

When you’re having an attack, he’s quick to ground you and help you seek a good therapist

Protective asf, he will not let you do anything alone since it makes you nervous.

Learns every one of your triggers so he can prevent them, whether that’s stopping himself from doing it or someone else

Holds you and cries about what you’ve been through, promises to never let it happen again

Portia;

Post-traumatic- down-syndrome? (Tiktok reference)

Nah but she isn’t certain what that is or what it means, but she DOES read about it and teaches herself what it all entails

Asks julien for further knowledge and how to help

Asks if you need space, to talk, advice, or just her company

In the middle of your attacks, she rubs you. Whether it’s your hand, your back, carding her fingers through your hair, she’s anchoring you back to the ground again

Asks what you need from her when you’re anxious

“Reassurance? Quality time? A listening ear—a shoulder? I have two of those!”

Muriel;

He understands you more then anyone. And funny enough, your anxiety seems to go hand in hand with his own

You’re damn right people are scary!! And loud noises are overwhelming!! And you’re angry and scared and just want to feel safe!! Him too!!

He isn’t the best at staying grounded, honestly he’s still learning healthy coping mechanisms

But when he sees you struggling, he finds himself in the clearest state of mind. He listens, he’s nurturing, and very intuitive.

Smiles so soft and so warm when you calm down from an episode, never pushes you to talk

Sometimes, you panic together about the same thing. Something about seeing someone you love feel the same way as you do….feels like home. You’re not dramatic, you’re more in control then you originally thought, and you’re cared for. Just as you care for him, he cares for you

Nadia;

She’s very good at rationalizing your racing thoughts, using logic to soothe your panic when it seems to be becoming too much

Uses her hands to massage the tension out of your muscles and help you process and work through the feelings you’re having

Aromatherapy, 100%

Reserved a spa day for you, just you and her, no one else. She knows the company of the servants would make you mask

Probably offers to buy you an exotic animal just so you have someone at your side if she’s away when you spiral

Lucio;

This man probably tells you to calm down, not realizing that’s making it worse.

Blubbers an apology immediately after, stuttering wildly as he waves his arms frantically

“No! Don’t cry—-! Hey, darling, it’s alright! What’s happened? My love, can you look at me? Show me those gorgeous eyes, there you go, wonderful. Now, what’s gotten you so upset?”

Thinks someone’s responsible, fully plans on lynching them as soon as he’s figured out the culprit

If your trigger is an inanimate object, he WILL destroy it. And yell at the servants not to trigger you

Drapes his cape over you so you feel sheltered and calm, so you can hide if you don’t want to be seen but don’t want to be alone

Definitely glares at anyone who attempts to call you emotional or puts you down for a natural reaction to trauma

Showers you in compliments, covers the mirrors in little affirmations with lipstick

Asra;

He knew. He’s always known. Even before you did.

He’s very patient, extremely passive and cautious

He educates others on your behalf so you’re never in an unwanted situation or triggered on accident

Reminds you to take medicine, eat, drink water, etc

Asks the arcana to guide you and offer you wisdom and clarity

Constantly ensures you’re never in a night terror/flashback

Can immediately tell when your anxiety spikes, doesn’t even ask before he brings you into the shop in a controlled and familiar environment and asks to talk

Admires you and your courage, he tells you everyday how strong you are and how proud of you he is

[ghosts-bandwagon]

can we have a headcannon of y/n (female) thats throwing dark humour around everytime and have 141 + Rudy, Alejandro nd konig react to her lmao 🤣

Can we have that? 💜 Thank you

Girl. Literally me. (I give my coworkers whiplash but they dish it pretty good too lmao)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Might actually get a decent laugh out of him, we’ve all heard his horrendous hilarious jokes, so we all know he can dish it, but can he take it? Depends on the type of humor

If it’s self-depreciating, probably not. Doesn’t really get it? Like he does but he sees you too positively for the humor to click.

Unalive jokes? Definitely not. Hates hearing it from you even if you’re laughing about it, so if you want to make them, you better be cheeky about it (“Head down, sergeant you’ll get spotted.” “Aw sweet, you think so?” You don’t have to be near him or even see him to feel his glare)

Jokes about your traumas? Not super keen on it but if you’re at a point in your life that you feel ok enough to laugh about it, he’s not one to take wind out of your sails (“Damn, this drink hits harder than my dad.” “Sweetheart. Please.”

But if your jokes are similar to his, then your chances of getting a laugh out of him went up exponentially (he thinks he’s so god damn funny and he’s right. king.)

“How do you turn a salad into a Cesar salad?”

“How?”

“Stab it 23 times.” Soap audibly groaned,

“That’s my girl.”

All in all, you’ll get a deep sigh with pinching the bridge of his nose for every joke you make, and maybe you’ll get a pretty laugh from him (god I bet his laugh is so nice 😭)

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

(laughs nervously) what the fuck?

He’s heard Ghost’s jokes firsthand, so the dark humor isn’t new to him. He might even laugh with you and crack a few of his own

Honestly, as long you’re having a laugh he’s not really that worried (still a little worried tho)

He trusts that if you’re feeling particularly bad about something, you’d talk to him about it and he’s here for that

He kind of enjoys the theatre of it, the dramatic reactions to something so seemingly mundane,

“So when are you gonna take me out?”

“To dinner? We just ate, bonnie.”

“… not what I meant but I love where your heads at.”

“Not in a million years.” He laughs kissing your temple and squeezing you against him

“So you’re saying there’s a chance? It’s just a matter of when, got it. Thanks babe, I owe you”

John Price:

He’s not thrilled about it but he’s worked with Ghost so he’s somewhat built a tolerance

He knows you sometimes use dark humor as a coping mechanism but he’ll tease you saying you should come with a warning label

He’s definitely choked at hearing some of the things come out of your mouth, at least the jokes relating to your own traumas, those always give him whiplash

He finds your situational dark humor much funnier than anything you might say that involves you being harmed, even if it is a joke that’s kind a nightmare scenario for him

Those will definitely get a chuckle out of him, just please stop making jokes about yourself, he loves you a little too much to stomach them

“What does my dad have in common with Nemo?” He refuses to answer, he knows, he fucking knows

“They both can’t be found.”

God damn it, sweetheart

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’ll join you for sure lmao

He’ll see you sparring on the mats with Soap and he sees you land a particularly rough kick that he managed to block

“Damn babe, that was clean. Now do it right here.” He’s pointing at his temple, you laugh and throw your sweaty towel at him

You’re out on recon and you’re making your way towards the targeted area,

“I’d be terrible if I was discovered, sure hope there aren’t any snipers to take me out. That’d be awful.”

Price groaned even as Kyle stifled a chuckle,

“Come on, love, we’re a bit too good to let that happen to you.”

“That’s the real tragedy, honestly.”

“Enough, you two.”

König:

He thinks you’re funny but low key a little worried at how easily the jokes come to you

But if you’re laughing and having a good time, then so is he!

Sometimes you really do say some crazy things and he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to hug you

He likes the jokes that have nothing to do with you much better, you’d be sitting at a briefing in the far corner when you lean in and whisper quietly,

“Köni, what’s red and bad for your teeth?”

“Hm?”

“A brick.”

He stifles a laugh and shakes his head, you can see the corners of his eyes crinkle as he tries to hide the smile.

Alejandro Vargas:

Honestly, he kind of gives me the vibe of “telling a joke becomes receiving a lecture”

Like you’ll make a joke and look at him and he’s deadpanned,

“Mi amor, that’s no laughing matter.” And then he goes into a full lecture about why what you said was out of pocket and a little hurtful

It’s not that he doesn’t understand the humor he’s just concerned

But, he prefers the goofier jokes I feel like,

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away, or at least it does if you throw it hard enough.”

“Mensa.” He pushes your shoulder playfully with a laugh.

Dumb jokes like that get a good laugh out of him, just don’t make them about you please he loves you so much and he will lecture you

Rodolfo Parra:

Mortified in Spanish

“Mi vida, please don’t make those jokes.”

They break his poor little heart :( he loves you so much it makes him sad to hear make such harsh jokes about yourself or even see such awful things

He sighs every time he hears one of your jokes and gives this look 🥺

He doesn’t like that you joke about yourself or the things that have happened to you like that

He understands that humor is sometimes a coping mechanism, but he’d much rather talk through the things you’re joking about

He just cares about you so god damn MUCH

But if they’re nonsensical, then he’ll chuckle quietly,

“You don’t need a parachute to go skydiving.”

“What? Amor you definitely-”

“You need a parachute to go skydiving twice.”

“Dios mío, amor.” He chuckles.

[silamander]

My Arcane season two act 2 thoughts (SPOILERS)

- Not Jinx rallying an army of blue hair and prounouns.

- Diversity win, the leader of a dictatorship and a slightly prejudiced cop are lesbians and they're fucking! :D

- Idc what anyone says, they'll never make me hate Maddie, I wanna pinch her wittle cheeks.

- AND JINX IS A SHOWMAN? CAN SHE MARRY ME ALREADY???

- Jinx and Isha are adorable I can't-

- The way she went from "Get the fuck off me" to "Lemme give you a makeover" girl I adore you.

- Piltover go twenty four hours without fucking with the arcane challenge: IMPOSSIBLE

- Sevika...what have they done to you.

- And she uses quips as a coping mechanism...I need her in my bed right now.

- "I think your pants look great, babe" Silas said, out loud.

- I know damn well she only made a prosthetic finger just so she could flip people off and I love her for that.

- God, Warwick is so fuckin' cool.

- Sapphics do NOT handle break ups well. They'll literally join a fighting ring before going to therapy.

- Jinx isn't even wrong tho, she's accomplished wayyyyy more than Vi did.

- The way Singed instantly became one of my favorites in episode 5

- "If he had read this, maybe it all would've been different" I cried-

- The way I instantly went "Woo Mama" when I saw Vi's mom

- Young Silco being so sweet...I can't

- WHERE'S EKKO AND HEIMERDINGER

- Wow, Jayce is fucked up...I kinda like it

- Salo is so sweet now, Viktor really is Robo Jesus

- Oh...okay then

- I'm so proud of Viktor. He's finally living his dream of using Hextech to help the people of Zaun.

- Jinx i love you, but don't talk to Robo Jesus like that.

- Viktor don't you say it, DON'T YOU SAY IT

- ...I hate you Robo Jesus

- The way Singed walks is funny to me, I don't know why.

- Cait and Vi, always bickering like they've been married for 10 years

- Hehehehe Ambessa you fucking idiot

- WHY DIDN'T VI JUST SHOOT AMBESSA???

- "Don't touch my daughter" Chills...CHILLS I TELL YOU

- Jayce...you stupid prick

- Welp, Isha went out like a goat

- In the flashbacks, Jinx's eyes flashed blue because Isha brought Powder out...

- Whatever Jinx does after this is so justified, I don't give a damn. She just lost her daughter. She could kill every character and I'd be cheering for her.

[emmabirb8]

Bill Cipher really is the funkiest little guy, isn't he?

He's a demon. He had parents. He destroyed his home dimension save for one singular atom. He was born different from the rest of his people and could see in 3D. He's a narcissistic maniac. He misses his mommy. He's a cruel, manipulative asshole. He accidentally got a little too attached and fell in love with a human, then had a drunken meltdown when they broke up. He created a throne of frozen human agony and tried to kill two twelve year olds.

He's incredibly lonely.

Personally, my biggest takeaway from The Book of Bill is the confirmation that my suspicions about him are (most likely) correct. Bill Cipher is miserable. He's been miserable since losing his family and entire home dimension, and everything he's done since then is nothing but one big attempt to distract himself from his mistakes.

Like, okay. I get that Bill is a master manipulator. He's a big fat liar, and everything he says and does is meant to be taken with a grain of salt. He wants readers and viewers to feel bad for him. He wants us to sympathize and woobify and get attached so he can use that to his advantage. BUT ALSO, I think The Book of Bill still sheds light on the fact that he IS broken deep down.

Everything that we know of Bill is almost entirely a meticulously constructed facade. He's a faker. He's all smoke and mirrors. He suffered a massive trauma (whether it happened on purpose or by accident is up for debate since he is nothing if not a horrendously unreliable narrator), and he had to find some way to cope. So he decided to live in denial. Denial of his failures, his true feelings, and, ultimately, everything that he is. He described the "entity" that destroyed his home dimension as a "monster," and, knowing what we know, that's what he believes about himself. He told Ford the answer of who that entity was would "eat [him] alive" and, in actuality, I think that was more of a thinly veiled admission that his deep-seated guilt over what he did eats him alive. Bill buried that guilt, all those negative feelings, all his mistakes deep, DEEP down, and then decided that if he was a monster, he might as well be a damn fierce one.

Bill became great at manipulation because that was the key to making his whole scheme work -- if he could control what everyone thought of him, make people fear him, bend them to his will and squeeze whatever he can out of them, he could be the meanest, nastiest, most cunning monster to ever exist, and he could keep living in denial. They can't make fun of you for your differences, for being weird (something I suspect happened to him in his home dimension) if you're the KING of weird and can kill with the snap of your fingers. If they fear you, they won't look too closely, into the tiny minuscule cracks in your facade, and see the painful truth.

Bill leaned hard into his role as Nightmare Demon to fool himself into believing all of that too.

But like I said, he's lonely. He has no one (besides his "henchmaniacs," but they're no substitute for real connection). I find it SO interesting how he speaks to Ford in The Book of Bill. "We both know you don't really want to be left alone. Admit it, you LOVE how important I make you feel. . . . [N]obody else really gets you, do they? Without me, you'll always feel unseen, surrounded by dolts who don't recognize your true potential. You've always felt alone in a crowd, haven't you? . . . you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?" -- I think he's projecting. Those are all things that are true about himself and his connection to Ford, but he's pinning it on Ford because he can't bring himself to face it head on.

Bill Cipher is a villain. He's evil. He's a demon. He really did ALL OF THAT.

But he is also a pathetic dorky sopping wet meow meow of a character who is constantly desperately trying to run away from himself.

And now, in the Theraprism, he has no access to his usual coping mechanisms. He has no choice but to finally face reality and figure out a way to do what he's been avoiding doing for literal millennia: to just be.