#But it still amazes me how right I can be about people

[puppyplayhouse]

Step brother Hyunjin things

Warnings: puppy reader, degradation, blackmail, choking at some point, dub con, kissing.

Lil headcanon of mean step bro Hyunjin (who maybe is possessive) being a dick (it's so delicious tho)

Has known you since you were both little because your parents were family friends before their respective divorces, so he knows every button to push.

Constantly using Dad against you. It's a core part of his blackmail, really. Every time you're a little less than compliant, he pulls up one of the thousands of pictures he's taken of you during your times together and asks what you think Dad would have to say about it.

Calls you puppy when people are around just to get you flustered. He's amazing at playing it off so that nobody questions it because well, he's just a good brother and you've always been SO close.

Any time he sees you alone on the couch, he's tugging his pants down and tapping his cock against your cheek. Of course, you protest. You tell him that you don't know when your parents are getting back. He doesn't care, though. He tells you that you should shut up and get to work if you don't want them to find out.

He's not always mean, though. You'd even say he's somewhat nice when you've had a really hard day and you come to him reluctantly, kneeling in front of him because you just can't be in control right now, and he's the only person who can take that from you.

He rewards you so well for that. For any willing submission you offer him, he returns it by making you cum over and over again on his fingers before he fucks you nice and slow, rolling his hips lazily into yours to drag out the low, whimpered moans that you let slip. He's only gentle with you when you earn it.

He loves to make you cum. He loves it even more when your pretty mouth is objecting to it and telling him he shouldn't be doing it, but your hips are bucking against him and your nails are digging into his arm in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

And he takes pictures every time. Sometimes, he'll force you to pose and use his fancy camera. Those are the more tasteful shots of you in pretty lingerie with wide doe eyes. Other times he's using his phone to capture the tears that spill down your cheeks as you gag around the length of his cock. He loves both equally.

He always has to degrade you. He'll pin you down completely still the movement of his hips as he makes you beg, always something along the lines of "C'mon, puppy. You were all talk before begging me to stop and now you're panting like a bitch in heat. Tell me you want it. That's it, more. I know you can do better than that. Tell me you're my worthless slut."

He knows you like it because your pussy is always dripping and practically pulses around him.

He would never admit it, but after a while you become the only person he fucks. Sure, he could have his pick, but he knows nobody else would look as cute as you do when you're staring up at him wide, panicked eyes, and tear stained cheeks.

He fucking loves seeing you cry. He loves watching you bite your pillow when he finds you laid on your bed and forces your pants down without a word, easily sliding his cock inside of you because you're always soaked at this point.

At some point he starts making you tell him that you love him. He has a firm grip of your throat and you're overstimulated to the point of becoming delirious as he uses one of your toys on you, thrusting it in an out of your aching cunt. "Tell me, and I'll stop, yeah? All you have to do is tell me how much you love me."

And you do. You say it like a prayer. You say it over and over again even after he's stopped, and he's got your cheeks cradled in his hands, cooing at you because you took everything he gave you without a complaint this time.

He was recording it, of course.

Recording you is his second favourite form of torture. He has so many videos of you sat pretty between his legs, your hands in fist infront of you like little paws as your tongue sticks out of your mouth, drool dripping down onto his lap to create a messy wet patch on the fabric of his pants. Those are his favourite to get himself off to.

Sweet brother Hyunjin is always nice enough to let you know when he's getting himself off to you. Which is every time. He sends you videos and pictures of his gorgeous cock fucking up into his hand and it's the only time he seems out of control, desperate for it to be you that he was burying his cock into instead.

Very rarely does he lay back and let you do the work. He likes taking charge and making a mess of you, but very rarely when you're being a good dog and sitting patiently, waiting almost excitedly for his next round of abuse, he lets you do the work. He'll pat his lap and wait for you to climb on top of him, watching in amusement as you fumble with his zipper and shove his pants down, messily grinding yourself against his bulge until he quietly tells you that if you don't move on, he'll leave.

You always perk up at that, taking it less as a threat and more as permission to sink yourself down on his cock. This is when he praises you.

He tells you how pretty you look and that you take his cock so fucking well, looking up at you with something akin to adoration sparkling in his eyes. He might even kiss you. His kisses are the ultimately reward, always slow and sensual. You become ravenous when he kisses you.

Maybe he'll even tell you he loves you. That you're his favourite puppy. He knows he loves you, and he has accepted that. But maybe he'll let you know when your grinding down onto his cock like the well trained mutt he has made you into.

He doesn't make it too sweet though. More like, "that's it. Take my cock, baby. Fuck, I love you. My desperate little slut. All fucking mine, yeah?"

[a-lexia11]

Age of love (part 2)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Word count:Around 2k

Warning:none, just fluff.

Part 1

Based on this request.

You’ve been dating Alexia for a year now, and while your relationship is thriving, the public reaction hasn’t always been smooth sailing.

Initially, the 10-year age gap between you sparked intense debate. Some fans struggled to understand how the two of you could be together, while others were outright critical.

It was tough to navigate that scrutiny, but over time, more people began to see what you both already knew—that you complement each other perfectly.

Now, you’re recognized as more than just “Alexia’s younger girlfriend.” Fans respect you for who you are beyond the relationship.

Balancing college, a part-time job at the cafe, and your commitment to being at Alexia’s games whenever possible has earned you admiration. The fans genuinely appreciate that about you.

At one match, you overheard a fan say, “Y/N’s got it all together. She’s smart, she works hard, and she’s always there for Alexia. We love a queen for our Reina” Hearing that made you beam with pride; it felt good to know that people appreciated you.

During halftime of Alexia’s matches, social media is abuzz with tweets and comments about you. You’ve been spotted studying during games more than once, and fans have embraced that with enthusiasm.

“Can’t believe Y/N is literally studying at halftime,” one fan tweeted. “She’s an icon, honestly.”

Another post went viral, featuring a candid shot of you in the stands with your laptop open on your knees and textbooks spread around you. The caption read, “The REAL MVP,” followed by a queen emoji. It was a moment that captured your dedication, both to your studies and to supporting Alexia.

As you scrolled through your phone, reading these comments and posts, your heart swells with pride. It’s uplifting to see that people appreciate you not just as Alexia’s girlfriend, but for your own hard work, determination, and the unique path you’re forging.

Each supportive message reinforces your belief in yourself and the relationship, making all the challenges worthwhile.

——

Being at Alexia’s games has always been enjoyable, but recently, there’s been an unexpected twist—people have started asking you for pictures. At first, it completely caught you off guard.

During one of Alexia’s matches, a young fan nervously approached you at halftime. “Disculpa” the girl stammered, glancing up at you with wide eyes, “¿eres Y/N?” (Excuse me, are you Y/N?)

You blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback. “Uh, sí. Soy yo.” (Uh, yeah. That’s me)

The girl’s face lit up. “¿Puedo... puedo tomarme una foto contigo?” (Can I... can I get a picture with you?)

You felt a rush of warmth and smiled, even though the request still felt surreal. “¡Por supuesto! Me encantaría.” (Of course! I’d love to.)

As she fumbled with her phone, trying to get the camera to work, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. You were used to standing by Alexia’s side, not being the one in the spotlight. “Aquí, déjame ayudarte con eso.” you offered, gently adjusting the phone. (Here, let me help you with that)

Once the picture was taken, the girl beamed. “¡Muchas gracias! ¡Eres increíble!” (Thank you so much! You’re amazing!)

You felt humbled by her excitement, waving goodbye as she rushed back to her friends.

Later, when you told Alexia about it, she burst into laughter.

“¡Mira a ti, cariño! ¡Ya eres famosa! Muy pronto te estarán pidiendo un autógrafo” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief. (Look at you, baby! Famous already! Pretty soon, they’re gonna be asking for your autograph)

You rolled your eyes, grinning back at her. “Yeah, right. They’re here for you, superstar.”

Alexia wrapped her arm around you, pulling you closer. “Maybe, but they love you too! “¿Cómo se siente ser parte del ‘club de novias famosas’?” she asked with a playful smirk. (How does it feel to be part of the ‘famous girlfriend club’?)

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Honestly? It’s still weird. I didn’t sign up for this!”

“Oh, come on! You’re a natural,” she said, nudging you playfully. “Just wait until you start getting fan mail. ‘Y/N, will you marry me?’”

You laughed, shaking your head again. “Not happening! They’ll always love you more.”

“Maybe,” Alexia said, leaning in closer, “but they appreciate you for who you are too.And it’s only a matter of time before you’re getting recognized at the grocery store. ‘¿Es Y/N? ¿La que estudia durante los partidos?’ (Is that Y/N? The one who studies during matches?)

You burst out laughing, feeling a mix of pride and disbelief. “Yeah, and I’ll be like, ‘Please, no photos while I’m buying groceries!’”

Alexia laughed along with you, wrapping you in a side hug. “Simplemente acéptalo, mi amor. ¡Ahora eres famosa!” (Just embrace it, my love. You’re famous now!)

——

Your social media following has grown since you started dating Alexia, largely because fans have loved the glimpses into your relationship. Nothing has sparked more conversation than the TikToks you've convinced Alexia to make with you.

One afternoon, you lounged on the couch scrolling through TikTok when you stumbled upon a new couple’s challenge.

Excitedly, you turned to Alexia, who was next to you, absorbed in her own phone. “Alexia, we absolutely have to try this one!” you exclaimed, your eyes shining with enthusiasm as you showed her the video.

She glanced at the screen, her expression falling. “No way. Absolutamente no. Ni siquiera entiendo cómo funcionan estas cosas.” she replied, half-joking, half-serious. (Absolutely not. I don’t even get how these things work)

You leaned closer, knowing she had a soft spot for you. “Please? It’ll be fun! I promise it’s easy.”

Alexia raised an eyebrow, skepticism clear on her face. “Siempre dices que es fácil, y luego yo termino viéndome ridícula.” she countered, crossing her arms. (You always say it’s easy, and then I end up looking ridiculous)

You pouted playfully, knowing it usually worked on her. “You’ve never looked ridiculous! You look adorable,” you whispered, leaning in for a quick kiss.

She sighed dramatically, a small smile escaping despite herself. “Fine. But if it’s no good, it’s your fault.”

You laughed, pulling her off the couch. “Deal! Let’s do this!”

Alexia pulled out her Samsung, the same one she had been using since the Olympic Games, and you felt a wave of disgust wash over you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, scrunching your nose as you looked at the phone, its sleek design somehow still managing to irk you.

“To film?” she replied innocently, a mischievous glint in her eye, fully aware of your aversion to that phone.

“Absolutely not! Get this thing out of my face!” you exclaimed, your voice rising as you reached out to snatch the phone from her hand.

You tossed it onto the sofa with a dramatic flair, feeling a little triumphant as she huffed in response.

“no es tan malo” Alexia argued, trying to defend her beloved device. But you just shook your head, unable to contain your disdain. (it’s not that bad!)

“It’s so… I don’t know, just not you!” you insisted, crossing your arms and pouting slightly. “You’re La Reina; you shouldn’t be using that!”

She laughed, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her amusement. “¿De verdad lo odias tanto?” (You really hate it that much?)

“Yes! It’s like, why not use something cooler?” you retorted, your expression earnest as you gestured dramatically toward her phone.

“¡Está bien, está bien! Conseguiré uno nuevo, lo prometo.” she chuckled, giving in to your playful disgust. (Okay, okay! I’ll get a new one, I promise)

“Good but no more Samsungs!” you warned her.

You pulled out your phone, your beautiful phone which is not a Samsung and set it up on a tripod, you started the music and began explaining the steps.

Alexia stood next to you, looking stiff and clearly out of her element. You could see her glancing around, visibly nervous. “¿Qué pasa si me caigo?”she asked, biting her lip. (What if I trip?)

“You won’t! Just follow my lead,” you assured her, trying to stifle your laughter. “Okay, now move your arms like this.” You demonstrated a simple move, your arms flowing gracefully.

Alexia watched intently, her brows furrowed in concentration. When she tried to copy you, her arms flailed awkwardly, and you burst into laughter.

“What are you doing?” you giggled between breaths.

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “"Me veo ridícula.” (I look ridiculous!)

You reached out to reassure her. “You don���t! You’re just... unique! Here, try it again. Just feel the music.”

“¿Sentir la música?” she echoed, looking even more confused. “What does that mean?” (Feel the music?)

“Just go with the flow! Like this!” You swayed your hips, demonstrating with exaggerated flair.

Alexia tried to mimic you, but she ended up swaying stiffly, her shoulders hunched. “¿Así es como se supone que debe verse?”she asked, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. (Is this how it’s supposed to look?)

“Not quite, but it’s getting there!” you said, stifling another laugh. “Okay, that was better! But maybe try to be a little looser?”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “I feel like una idiota”

You pulled her in for a quick hug. “You’re my adorable idiota! Now, let’s do it again!”

After several more attempts, Alexia finally managed to get through the challenge, though her movements remained stiff and a little awkward. You couldn’t help but smile at how cute she looked trying so hard.

Once you posted the video, the comments started rolling in within hours.

“Alexia is so awkward, I love it,” one fan commented.

“She’s trying so hard, bless her,” another added.

“She’s so awkwardly hot”, another said.

You glanced over at Alexia, who was shaking her head and laughing. “They’re too nice. I’m terrible” she admitted, still slightly embarrassed.

“They love it!” you reassured her, snuggling into her side. “And so do I. You’re giving them something real to enjoy.”

“Really?” she asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

“Absolutely! Especially when you’re moving around like a baby giraffe,” you replied with a laugh, nudging her playfully.

Alexia chuckled, finally relaxing. “Okay, maybe this was not bad. ¡Solo no me hagas hacerlo de nuevo pronto!” (Just don’t make me do it again anytime soon!)

“Deal!” you grinned knowing that you’ll definitely will make her do it again.

——

One night, after an exhilarating victory, the team invited you out to celebrate. They had come to cherish you almost as much as the fans did, and you were always included in their post-game festivities.

That night, the atmosphere was electric, filled with laughter and excitement, and you found yourself swept up in the joy of the evening.

The music thumped in the background, drinks flowed, and you felt lighter than you had in weeks. Alexia stood beside you, her laughter ringing out as she chatted animatedly with her teammates, her arm casually wrapped around your waist.

“Can you believe we won?” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely! You were amazing out there!” you replied, nudging her playfully.

As the night went on, the music shifted to something upbeat, and the energy in the room changed. People started dancing, letting loose, and you felt a bold urge bubbling up inside you.

Fueled by a few too many drinks, you suddenly had an idea. Climbing onto a chair, you grinned down at Alexia and the team. “Watch this!” you shouted, your voice barely cutting through the music.

Alexia raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and concern on her face. “Y/N, ¿Qué estás haciendo?” she asked, a laugh escaping her lips.(what are you doing?)

“Just having fun!” you replied, adrenaline coursing through you as you pulled off your shirt and spun it around your head screaming at the top of your lungs “Vamos chicas”

The team erupted in cheers, their voices blending into a cacophony of encouragement. Soon, others joined in, twirling their own shirts in the air.

“¡Vamos, Y/N! ¡Muéstranos lo que tienes!” Cata yelled, laughter ringing out. (Go, Y/N! Show us what you’ve got!”)

“Is this how we celebrate a win?” Alexia shook her head but couldn’t suppress her smile. “¡Vas a arrepentirte de esto por la mañana!” (You’re going to regret this in the morning!)

“Nunca!” you shouted back, fully embracing the moment, feeling like the star of the show. (Never!)

The next morning, you woke up with a headache and a sinking feeling. Groggily, you grabbed your phone and discovered that someone had recorded the entire incident.

It had already gone viral. “Y/N is a whole vibe!” the caption read, and the woso community was eating it up, sharing the video across social media.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god, I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

Alexia walked in, a sly smile on her face as she saw your reaction and lied down next to you. “Asumo por tu reacción que has visto el video.”she said, laughing. “But you know what? I think it’s iconic.” (You saw the video I assume by your reaction)

“Iconic? More like embarrassing!” you grumbled, but a smile started to break through.

“Embrace it!” she nudged you playfully. “It was very funny and people like it!”

“I just hope my mom doesn’t see this,” you joked, shaking your head.

“¡Demasiado tarde! ¡Ya se lo he enviado!”Alexia teased, winking at you. (Too late! I’ve already sent it to her!)

“Noooo! You’re the worst!” You both burst into laughter, the earlier embarrassment fading as you enjoyed the moment together.

——

A few weeks later, you sat in your usual spot at one of Alexia’s matches, watching her dominate the field as always. The game was intense, and your heart raced as the clock ticked down.

In the final moments, Alexia broke free, charging toward the goal with laser focus on the ball. You held your breath, eyes glued to her as she struck the ball cleanly, sending it soaring into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted in cheers, and you jumped to your feet, screaming her name. “Alexia!”

But what happened next completely took you by surprise. Instead of her usual celebration, Alexia turned to the crowd, a huge grin on her face.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she pulled off her jersey and spun it around her head screaming at the top of her lungs “Vamos chicas!”, imitating the move you had pulled at the party weeks before.

The crowd went absolutely wild, and Alexia received a yellow card for taking off her shirt. She just shrugged it off, clearly not caring at all.

You stood there, mouth agape, shaking your head in disbelief. “Did she really just—?”

Fans around you lost it, chanting her name and cheering. “This is amazing!” one fan yelled, while another shouted, “Alexia, you’re the best!”

Social media exploded almost immediately, with fans praising her bold new celebration. “Alexia spinning her shirt like Y/N? This is the content we live for!” one tweet said, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the comments.

Later, after the game, you waited for Alexia in the tunnel, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as she approached, still buzzing from the excitement. “Really?” you asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Alexia beamed, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “What? You started it! I had to do something fun!”

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” you laughed, shaking your head in disbelief.

She stepped closer, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Fue un homenaje. Para mi reina.”she whispered, her tone teasing but sincere. (It was a tribute. For my queen)

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth in your chest. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

Alexia laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. “Solo para ti. ¡Ahora todos recordarán nuestra celebración!” (Only for you. Now everyone will remember our celebration!)

You looked up at her and gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “La próxima vez, haré una voltereta. A ver cómo logras ese tributo.” you murmured against her lips, causing Alexia to laugh. (Next time, I’ll do a backflip.Let’s see how you’ll manage that tribute)

You both walked out together, the excitement of the match still buzzing around you, feeling grateful for moments like these.

FIN

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment

"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.

Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.

On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.

"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.

"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.

"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.

"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.

"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.

"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.

New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.

Crikey, mate.

There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.

"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."

Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."

I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."

"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.

"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."

Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."

"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."

"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.

"Oh be so serious with me now,"

"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"

Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”

“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.

“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.

“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”

“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”

"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.

"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.

"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.

I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.

"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"

My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”

Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”

I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.

“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”

His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”

My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”

I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”

Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.

I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”

My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”

My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.

Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."

My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."

As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?

It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.

What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.

Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.

My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.

His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.

Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.

My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.

I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.

Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”

I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.

Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.

As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”

My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”

Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”

I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”

He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”

Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”

His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.

“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?

“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”

I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.

The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.

I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”

I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.

“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”

Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”

Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”

Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”

The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.

“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.

The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”

Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”

Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”

I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.

“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.

Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”

Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”

The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.

I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.

Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”

Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”

But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”

I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.

Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”

I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.

Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”

Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”

“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”

Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.

Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”

Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.

I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”

As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.

I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”

“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”

His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.

My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.

Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.

The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.

“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”

There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”

The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”

As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.

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taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09

[alpaca-clouds]

BG3 fans, we gotta talk CPTSD

Okay, I have spend about a week considering writing this blog, but I really gotta say, that it is something people really need to understand. See, I mostly see this issue with Astarion and his depiction in fandom. However, I would argue that it is a thing that affects literally all characters that play some sort of bigger in this entire game. Including many NPCs.

But let me start with Astarion. See, I wrote the blog two weeks ago about people being judgy on people, who do not want to have graveyard sex with him. Mostly people will argue how Astarion should be allowed to have his agency in that moment - while I argued that whoever the player is playing should have also agency in that scene. Including the agency to say "no" for whatever reason. I also included that my Tav absolutely denied Astarion, because he was not trusting that Astarion in the scene really was ready for it, for a variety of reasons. Which is very much a valid reason for someone not to want to sleep with someone else. (Literally every reason is a good reason for that, mind you.)

And obviously there came the comment, that went basically: "As someone who was raped I am very appalled by you saying that raped people cannot consent." Which is very much not what I said.

What I said was, that my Tav did not consent. Yes, he did not consent because he thought Astarion was not ready for it - but he is the one not consenting. It does not matter for this whether his assumption about Astarion is true or not. Tav does not feel comfortable in the scene, so Tav does not want sex right there.

However... If you consider the drow orgy scene, Tav is also very much right. If you do that scene after defeating Cazador, Astarion is enthusiastically consenting to that orgy, but he still ends up dissociating during the scene. (And in that scene, even if your character notices it, you cannot go "Stop!" Which I hate.)

Here is the thing. If you are in the BDSM scene, you might actually have encountered a scenario in real life where someone was enthusiastically consenting to something - only to them realize, that they were not into it at all. And people can withdraw their consent IRL at this point. Only that in this game, obviously you can't. So within the game choices I will just start out with "no" for this character.

Still, that is actually not what I mainly wanted to talk about. No.

What I wanted to talk about is the other thing. I absolutely know that for a variety of reasons a lot of SA survivors do identify with Astarion, and I do not want to take that from anyone. I think it is amazing that we got a character with whom we see this issue portrayed seriously. And let's face it. Especially in tumblr fandom circles, we will have a lot of SA survivors, because the userbase of this website is majority afab, and many are queer. And we know from statistics that queer afab people are even more likely than non-queer afab people to experience SA at some point in there life. So, yes, Astarion is going to be embraced by this community makes sense - even without his dashing looks.

But here we get to the actual meat of the issue: Astarion was not just raped. Astarion was abused in a variety of ways - some of them sexual - over the course of 200 years. He went not through a single traumatic event, but an ongoing trauma that, again, lasted for 200 years.

Or to put different: Astarion does not have PTSD. He has C-PTSD. Complex trauma. The kind of trauma that develops when the trauma lasts over a long, long time, without the survivor getting a chance to ever really properly ever relax. Something that was very true for Astarion's time under Cazador. He was under constant threat of rape, torture, and other forms of violence.

While CPTSD is a form of PTSD, it has some differing symptoms - and additional symptoms from plain old PTSD.

I found this graphic on this blog here, and found it fairly good in the depictions. (If you google CPTSD you will find several graphics like this.) It shows very well the additional symptoms, compared to normal trauma.

Generally speaking, CPTSD brings a lot stronger issues with self-worth, interpersonal problems, and emotional regulation. CPTSD folks are often prone to emotional outbursts (this graphic names anger, but technically it can be all other kinds of emotional outbursts - which is why at times CPTSD gets confused with BPD).

And Astarion is written like this. He shows very much all the symptoms of CPTSD. And let's be honest: That is an issue he will have to deal with for a long, long while.

But... As I said, the same is actually true for pretty much all the characters.

If you look at the companions, it is obvious.

Gale spent at least a year in constant fear of blowing up. While Mystra's abusiveness towards him within the relationship prior the orb is more fanon than canon (though the relationship was defnitely not an easy one), the "one year in constant fear of death" is very likely going to instill some form of CPTSD in him.

Karlach was a slave for 10 years, forced to fight in the hells. While she will also probably suffer from certain forms of PTSD more common in soldiers. Additionally I would argue that she also has some CPTSD from tiefling-racism. While she does not bring it up often... She does seem to have a thing there.

With Wyll it is a bit more complicated. Yes, for him I would see the kind of CPTSD I have - parental abuse related. Ulder was not openly abusive, but neither was my mother, and guess what fucked me most up in my childhood, despite experiencing some really bad violence elsewhere.

Shadowheart was abused by Viconia and midwashed and tortured and was forced to kill her fucking pet mouse. Bonus points that a lot of it happened during her childhood. She very much is gonna suffer the consequences.

Lae'zel... Do I really need to say something about her upbringing among the Gith?

Then we have Halsin. We know fairly little about his background, given that he is very coy in talking about it. But his "three years as a drow slave" definitely make it likely that he has developed some form of CPTSD.

And then we have Jaheira and Minsc. For whom just the... Well, look folks, the adventuring lifestyle would logically also leave you with CPTSD of some sort.

Even if you play a Tav who entered the game after having a very untraumatic life... They will spent what has to be at least two months with a tadpole in their head threatening to kill them - while half of Baldur's Gate is trying to do the same. They'll have PTSD after this at the very least, if not CPTSD. (Even though, let's face it, chances are we all gave our Tavs more than enough background trauma to go along with it, right?)

And same goes for so many other characters. The tiefling refugees. Our main villains (especially Gortash and Orin). Cazador. The other vampire spawn (duh). The list goes on.

So, what am I trying to say here?

Well, for once I just want to make sure folks understand that CPTSD is a thing that exists and while being similar to normal PTSD differs in some points. Including the fact that people with CPTSD have a high likelihood to make very rash decisions driven by instable emotional states, that might be harmful to them on the long run.

And mind you. In real life most people with CPTSD have it because either they were bullied for a long time, or were in an abusive relationship of some sort. (Abusive parents, abusive partners, abusive friends/roommates.) But even in those heightened scenarios the game represents for the most part - the issues are gonna be still mainly the same.

[jung-koook]

are you making those gifs just from the yt shorts/ig reels of I AM STILL that they are posting? it doesn't even look like it bc the quality of the gifs is so good D:

If you want to talk about quality you've come to the right person! LAKSKSALKS everyone loves high quality files but sometimes I do crazy things for files that not even my friends can do. such as my paid weverse files. I always want the original quality and with screen record we don't have that, so I literally gave my email and password to someone on a forum so they can download my files from my weverse account in the original quality. this person just said "hi, I know how to download paid files from weverse using codes, do you want me to do it for you?" and I, who don't know this person, said "omg please, thank you so much for doing this for me". 😅😭 also download torrent files from suspicious websites. the list is long LKASKLAKSAS but I can give you some tips on how to always find good quality files, at least files that are free or easier to find.

try to join in exclusive forums like kpop24hrs or a harder like jpopsuki and avistaz. I had an account on jpopsuki, but maintaining an account there is very hard for me, I am someone who doesn't keep files saved on my laptop. there is a forum called "torrent invites" where some people go there and offer invitations or even exclusive forum accounts. I got a jpopsuki invitation account for a friend there. check torrent invites forum if you want an invitation to another forum! now youtube videos. to download youtube videos I use 4k video downloader. but before downloading the videos you can also try to change the format of the video to see if the quality changes too. sometimes videos in mkv format have better quality, so it's always good to check if the quality changes.

I always do that on bangtantv like bangtanbomb or the episodes videos which most of the time are always only uploaded on youtube. BUT we have some videos that are not only uploaded on yt but also on instagram and tiktok~~~~ and this is where we win heheheh~~ if a video is uploaded on these three platforms ALWAYS download it from tiktok. 99% of the time, videos on tiktok have a thousand times better quality than those on youtube and instagram. or you can also download the video on these three platforms so you can compare and see which quality is better, but I'm sure that tiktok's quality will always be the best. here's an amazing example, jin video that I giffed earlier.

first i only saw people sharing the instagram link but i went and searched if the instagram account also had a tiktok account and BAM they did 🥹 I downloaded the video from instagram and the quality was poor:

but when i download the tiktok video the quality was:

damn... this is sexy🫦

when instagram doesn't always make videos available in 1080p, most videos on tiktok are 1080p. just go and search "where to download instagram videos online" "where to download tiktok videos online" and open a website that does that and that's it.

another example, my tae and jeongguk recent gifset that you talk about here in this ask.

the quality of the video uploaded on youtube and instagram is very similar.

yt:

instagram:

but look how the quality is a thousand times better on tiktok:

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹 so beautiful that I almost got emotional LAKSKASKASKA

my advice is to always look for other platforms they may have uploaded the files to! like for example jeongguk vogue photoshoot. many people thought that the videos were only uploaded on twitter and instagram but no, they were also uploaded on facebook! always look for accounts on facebook as well. but facebook is weird… from what I understand they won't upload all the quality at the same time so sometimes it takes a while for a video to be in 1080p there. another thing, sometimes they will also change the quality lol. for example, when I downloaded jeongguk photoshoot there the highest quality available was 2k but now it only has 1080p.

now:

😭😭😭😭😭😭

now torrent files~ I don't recommend the websites I download my files from because I'm not sure they are trustworthy but as I have a good program to protect my laptop so I feel safer lakskas. for torrent files I use eztvx, kpkuang, 1lou. "are you sure" files I had to search for jung kook or jimin to find the files on some of these websites.

and now free websites where we can download high quality bangtan files are namuspromised, sharemania, soowoozoooo and ouranxingg.

there are others but I feel like these are the ones who always share high quality files.

this was me trying to explain to you guys how to always find high quality files with my bad english LAKSKSKASK I just love helping people find good quality files ♡

EDIT: I forgot to talk about vimeo but @galatariel reminded me of them too ♡ many photoshoot are uploaded there with high quality so also check vimeo when a photoshoot comes out! I downloaded most of my recent tae photoshoot there~

[khoirkid]

Whumptober Interview with Amethyst!

Before the glorious event that is whumptober, I reached out to Amethyst to ask a bit about her process and what to look forward to. (Everything is shared with her permission.) You can find her tumblr @amethystfairy1 so hop on over and give her some support for October!

Q. How does the writing style and process change for a month-long event verses just writing?

A. I guess with like, my long form stuff, I write with a ton more detail for the month long events, especially since I've done multiple now, I try to pick out a specific thing to center the fic around and use that as a through line, strip it down to it's bones, and just go with that... I try to be a bit more abstract and use extended metaphors for the month long events

Q. How do you find a balance between the TTSBC AU and the TT au?

A. I don't. [A]ctual answer... um...I don't (Interviewer: Well, you know you have a 50/50 split for whumptober, right?) I DO... WAIT... I DO???... THAT WAS A TOTAL ******* FLUKE... you give me far to much credit... no that was a total coincidence

Q. Are there any characters you feel like you’re drawn to for whump?

A. Tango and Scott. [I]ts just because they feel so bright and spunky... so breaking them in different ways is really interesting... And it's different from like, Grian Pearl and Jimmy because with the three of them their fannon characters have such a wide expanse of styles that slotting them into the broken avian mindset wasn't impossible...it was tricky at times for Grian to write him being so docile and obedient because pesky bird and all but even still, with Tango it doesn't fit, and so finding a way to make it fit is super interesting! Same with Scott!

Q. Is there anyone who isn't easy/fun to whump?

A. Everyone is fun to whump in some way... As far as not easy ...Pearl has been tricky, mainly because I write her so as being so solid in her emotions usually

Q. Is there anything you think will surprise readers for the coming whumptober?

A. I think there's a lot more plot relevance than people realize on the way. Several of the fics are... crucial to the plot going forward.

Q. Do these writing challenges help you come up with some of the plot or does the plot just fall into them?

A. Both! The plot has it's shapes and curves already, but doing these writing challenges sometimes helps me put pins in specific themes to tie in important plot points and drive the au forward.

Q. Finally, is there anything readers should watch for and what day are you most excited for?

A. Day 10 and Day 25 will probably be the most plot relevant of the bunch! As well as Day 31! I'm personally the most excited to for Day 10, as I think it's going to be super amazing seeing the response to that from everyone who's been so kind as to follow my AUs for so long!!!! (Interviewer: It's a well done major ouchie) I love thinking about that as I'm writing, especially since both TT and TTSBC have gotten so much love, imagining what folks are going to comment and enjoy about it!

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷����🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷

I'm just getting too excited reading the snippets

Thank you! Damn 186 for 🦷:

---

“Dad, can I tell you something?” Chris asks, with a little sigh, like he’s having to break something very simply down to a child.

“Uh, of course, Chris.”

“I only have one day left of being smarter than you, so I should maybe give you advice.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie asks. 

“Because I still have my wisdom teeth,” Chris explains.

Right, Eddie. Keep up. 

“That’s true,” Eddie mumbles. “It’s all downhill after today. Your brain will turn to mush.”

Chris rolls his eyes. 

“I’m just saying,” Chris presses. “I’m more wise than you still. So listen to me.”

There’s something really serious in his tone, so Eddie stops joking. 

“Okay,” he says. 

“The first person you said who made you feel comforted was Buck. Twice. That means something, Dad. I think you’re used to feeling bad and you don’t know how to do things that make you feel good.”

Eddie feels like he’s been struck. Not for the first time today. 

“So, you think I should try something different, huh?” Eddie asks, voice cracking over tears just a little. 

Chris nods. “Yep. I think whatever the opposite of what Grandma and Abuelo would say is what you should do, probably.”

Well, that’s an idea. That logic carried him from El Paso to Los Angeles. Kept him here despite their pressure for him to return. That logic wrote Buck’s name in his will instead of theirs. And none of those things have been decisions that Eddie regrets. 

“That…” Eddie exhales. “That might be really good advice.”

“Because of my wisdom teeth,” Chris says.

Eddie smiles. “Yeah, buddy. Because of your wisdom teeth, for sure.”

iv.

Buck ends up coming with them to Christopher’s surgery appointment. Eddie didn’t ask. He just sort of shows up in the morning, assuming Eddie would want someone to sit with him. He’s right, of course. Eddie knows it’s just dental surgery and comes with very little risk, but Eddie absolutely wants company. Buck’s company. 

They sit side-by-side in waiting room chairs, clutching paper cups of coffee, during the surgery. They’re the only people in the room. Eddie can hear a clock ticking. There’s a television playing the news silently. Eddie’s leg is tapping.

“Hey,” Buck says gently, hand resting on Eddie’s shoulder. “He’s going to be totally fine.”

“Yeah, I know,” Eddie nods. “It’s a simple procedure. That’s… That’s not why I’m nervous.”

Buck frowns. “Why are you nervous, then?”

Well, great question. Not one Eddie really wants to answer. 

“Uh…” Eddie struggles. His throat feels very dry. He takes another sip of coffee before answering. “I have… Well, I had a sort of crazy conversation with Christopher yesterday while grocery shopping.”

“This is why you shouldn’t grocery shop without me,” Buck says, kissing his teeth chidingly. “Always ends in chaos.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “I can remember grocery store chaos caused by you. And uh, it was actually a good conversation.”

“Yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.”

“What was it about?” Buck asks, leading the conversation because he can see Eddie is too nervous to just do it himself. 

“Uh, a lot of things,” Eddie says. “But I ended up sort of… Well, I came out to him.”

Buck’s eyebrows shoot up. He grins. “Eddie, that’s amazing! How did he take it?”

“Good,” Eddie nods. “He… Yeah, he was great.”

“Ah, man. I’m so happy to hear that. I know that was weighing on you.”

“It was,” Eddie agrees quietly.

“So, then… Why are you nervous?”

Eddie takes a deep breath. Here it goes.

“Well, Chris is a smart kid, you know?”

“Of course,” Buck replies, still confused. 

“It didn’t take him very long to ask if this meant I’m in love with you.”

Buck’s expression goes completely still. His eyes get big. Wide. Anxious. 

“Uh, wh-what… What did you tell him?” Buck stammers. 

“That I do,” Eddie whispers. His eyes flicker to the floor. He almost doesn’t want to see Buck’s reaction. 

“Oh,” Buck exhales. “And, uh… He-he was okay with that?”

Eddie nods. “Pretty much told me not to be stupid and do something about it.”

“Is that what this is?” Buck asks. 

Eddie chuckles a little breathlessly. “Not enough for you?” 

“It doesn’t hurt to be given roses or something,” Buck smirks. “A string of pearls even.”

“Well, we’re in the waiting room of a dental surgery clinic. So I can offer you…” Eddie looks around the room. “An issue of USA Today from four months ago.”

“I’ve always wanted that,” Buck says. “I just need to know about Ben and Jennifer. Do you think they’re going to make it this time?”

“I have bad news,” Eddie tells him.

Buck smiles. His eyes crinkle a little. Eddie’s not sure if they did that, back when they met. Eddie thinks, somehow, he just keeps getting more and more beautiful with every year that he knows him. He’s sitting right beside him now, all loose curls and twinkling eyes. And Eddie realizes he’s so fucking lucky. Because as nervous as he is right now, he’s not uncertain. He knows. He knows this beautiful, kind, unbelievably generous, and not nearly as funny as he thinks man loves him back. 

“I still don’t understand why you’re nervous,” Buck says softly. “Eddie, you have to know…”

“I know,” Eddie replies quickly. 

“I love you, too,” Buck says. “Like… Obviously.”

Eddie smiles. “I thought so… I just…” 

“What?” Buck asks gently. 

Fuck. Eddie doesn’t really know how to explain. 

“My son sort of psychoanalyzed me,” Eddie blurts. “And, uh… And the conclusion was… He thinks maybe I don’t make decisions that are good for me because I’m used to feeling bad.”

Buck’s jaw drops. “Chris said that?”

“Yeah, I think my parents kind of messed him up in a different way from what I did.” Eddie admits. 

“He’s not messed up, Eddie. Just hurt. That’s all.”

“See?” Eddie says. “See, it’s that. He’s right. It’s like my brain is sort of wired for guilt, and… And I don’t want it to be. I just, I’m scared I’ll screw it up with you, too.”

Buck nods, thinking. He takes a good moment to contemplate.

“Okay,” he eventually sighs. “Okay, well then I won’t let you.”

Eddie sighs. “What?”

“Yeah, I just won’t,” Buck presses. “I’m good at that. I think Bobby and I are the only people you listen to.”

Because they’re the only people close enough to Eddie to know what he wants and have his best interest at heart. They always have. 

“Buck, it’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is,” Buck replies, turning in the seat a little so his knees are pressing into Eddie. “I-I know you, Eddie. You wouldn’t have brought this up at all if you didn’t want me to talk you into it.”

Eddie opens his mouth to object. That’s just… 

Okay, it’s completely true. He does that, doesn’t he? Waits until he’s ready for Buck to give him permission to do right by himself. He always has. 

Wow.

“We know each other better than anyone,” Buck says. “We won’t let each other be idiots.”

And that’s… Well, that’s true, too. Eddie has always been able to talk Buck down from letting things get out of hand. From spiraling. From making every problem on earth his problem. So… So maybe Buck is right. 

“Promise?” Eddie asks. 

Buck grabs his hand. “I promise.”

[sergle]

i've litchrally been going crazymode listening to Maintenence Phase, which is my current favorite podcast, and i highly highly recommend it if you like informative podcasts about debunking misinfo around the wellness/health/diet sphere. it's also just really fucking funny, Michael Hobbs and Aubrey Gordon are great hosts and i love their chemistry together. i'd say "if you're a fat person, you gotta listen to this shit" but honestly i don't even need to be that specific, i just think it's good listening in general. like actually, i think skinny people with or without fat friends would greatly benefit from hearing some of these episodes.

[itskindnessinfinite]

the recency bias in the f1 community is insane actually

[icewindandboringhorror]

While I don't know much about it, I would probably bet there are tons of issues with the cruise industry that would make me not actually appreciate it broadly speaking - HOWEVER, I do really love a lot of the interior design of some cruise ships.. How it's almost like a miniature city crammed into one area. Multiple sections with all different aesthetic designs, a variety of shops, restaurants, activity centers, community seating areas, communal use spaces (like gyms, laundry, pools, cafeteria/buffet (which I always love anywhere)), etc. etc. but then also everyone has a little nice clean comfortable looking space of their own to retreat back to if they'd like to be alone. Maybe it's something akin to the idea of 'walkable cities', where everything you could ever want to do is kind of right there just a short walk away? I also especially love how so much stuff is stacked on top of other stuff, a layered cluster of spaces, bright open atriums, and when they're set up with little walkways down the center between a bunch of rooms so it's almost like a mini city street with apartments lining it, etc.. They often seem like they'd be SUCH a cool place to live permanently, IF only something identical was just built on solid land instead lol

[coquelicoq]

yeah sex is great but have you ever unflooded your street by removing leaves from the storm drains using the litter-grabber tool you bought from lowe's two weeks ago for that exact purpose?

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[spicypussywave]

i see a stupid take on a show i had no interest in thinking about (bc others do enough of that) and now i wanna defend it and make op see how delusional they've gotten

[tvs-coach]

Part 1 of a reoccuring series of sketches from Series 10 of Spitting Image, "The Making Of Major"

[nerdnag]

I hope everyone who reads this is having a better day than I am 🙏

[timeisacephalopod]

It really strikes me that people treat fanfic authors as if they don't know anything about writing, which is weird because even before I wrote fic I cowrote a stage play I got an award for back in high school, poetry my teachers would frequently compliment, and my own original ideas in novel format- which structurally you learn in high school it's not some fucking Devine Knowledge no one knows about? If you didn't learn what an inciting incident is and the basic structure of a novel and tropes like The Heroes Journey by eleventh grade then fine but don't project that onto a format of writing you have some weird vendetta against. After that I went to uni and wrote dozens of academic essays for my degree, some of them quite extensive in length and obviously there's technical skill involved in that writing.

Besides that after I stopped writing fic I learned how to write screenplays and wrote like 3 episodes of TV shows in film school- which by the way used other showrunners ideas because writing an episode of an existing show is how you build a portfolio. That's right fanfic hating assholes, if you want a tv writing job pull out ur fuckin fanfic out so your ability to capture the voice of another show can be judged. I also wrote a movie script in school and I highly doubt I'm some Special Snowflake among fic authors, so where the hell does this idea that fic authors are all 13 year old yaoi obsessed morons who've never even seen a book their whole life and never learned even the most basics of writing like what an adjective is come from?

I know people who hold this idea don't seem to think they're misogynists but they treat fic identical to how people treat romance and erotica outside of Fic World and I highly doubt two areas in which women are the ones doing most of the writing would get targeted with the exact same rhetoric of "that's not real writing" for completely different reasons if the arguments against the fiction are basically the same. Because obviously Real Literature doesn't have romance, sex, or women writing it.

Regardless, it's utterly asinine to assume fic authors have no idea how to write because they're writing fic- like actually no, technically speaking I'm qualified to write all kinds of shit as far as what I know, so I don't much appreciate that my writing a single form of writing somehow means I have no skills or training just because Ive written that particular format according to some people. It's deeply insulting and I really do wonder if people think people who write as a hobby should even be allowed to have that hobby if theyre this obsessed with publish or don't ever even LOOK at a word. Like not only is it insulting to suggest that my hobby is somehow some particularly god awful drivel, but apparently those people don't know what a hobby is given that zero other hobbies get treated like this. No one walks around telling people if they aren't playing professional sports they can't play them at all- we just know that normal dudes playing football probably aren't Tom Brady and aren't looking to be either.