#I also had a weird intense emotion reaction to it maybe not turning out related to some personal trauma history

[epersonae]

The Cooking Project: Yakitori-don

The next card in the stack was a recipe from a friend who I believe lived in Japan for a year. She shared it in Slack, and I wrote it down on a card because free Slack instances have limited history availability. (there will be another recipe later, I think, with a similar origin) I don't know exactly how long ago I wrote it down (2 or 3 years ago, probably), and I've never made it.

Summary: pretty good, would make again with a couple of mods. Unfortunately, there will be a long digression into rice cooking first.

Recipe text, transcribed

Yakitori-don (from Amanda C.)

2-4 chicken breasts 1 c soy sauce 1/2 c sugar 1 tsp garlic salt 1 onion, chopped

all into crock pot on low, 8 hrs [arrow leads to a notes that says try instant for 10 min & quick release] shred chicken, stir back into sauce serve over Nishiki (?) rice

[Nishiki rice, when I looked it up, turns out to be a medium grain white rice similar to Calrose. we'll get to Problems With Rice next]

Things that happen when you move while Trauma, or: Problems With Rice

So my favorite way to make rice, not owning a rice cooker, is with an instant pot. As it happens, I own two of them, because Ryn brought one when they moved out here. Which, I thought: perfect! One for the chicken and one for the rice.

Except, as it turns out, Ryn's rice cooker has a detachable cord. Which was detached at some point presumably in August or September 2021, and is........ SOMEWHERE. Is that somewhere in the box, which is probably in the garage? Is it in another shelf in the kitchen behind a bunch of stuff? Is it in the landfill? I have no idea (yet).

[the Instant Pot that betrayed me]

Which means there was only one instant pot, which is a lot less fun than there was only one bed.

I didn't buy medium grain white rice for this recipe, because I had long grain on hand, and, eh. But that means that my rice is in a container and does not have cooking instructions. So I opened up my trusty copy of How to Cook Everything Vegetarian, which I think I got as a Christmas present like 10 years ago, on the assumption that it would have the usual X rice to Y water for Z time formula that one might find on the back of a bag of rice. Instead, he suggests a method that is "Far easier and more reliable [...] which will work well for any kind of white rice at all" that involves a lot of watching and fiddling with the heat. (which on a gas stove can be quite tricky!) Without getting too deep into it:

I think it might have been cooked properly at the bottom, but the top was almost entirely uncooked. So I started over using his microwave method, which was fine (slightly undercooked) but also got wet starch all over the inside of my microwave. Do not recommend.

tl;dr: If I can't find the power cord for that instant pot, I will probably be buying a rice cooker.

Ok, but how was the chicken?

My one mod in prepping is my standard: I hate the texture of onion, cooked or raw, and at some point I discovered that grating an onion gets the umami of it without the texture. So I did that.

Dumped everything in the instant pot (two chicken breasts, btw), stirred it around a bit, and then set it for ...

Possibly 8 minutes, because I was distracted by all the rice shenanigans, and was just glancing at the card when I set the timer, and uh, may have read the number next to "crock pot" instead of the number next to "instant".

In any case, I did that, set it for 5 minutes before releasing (because that matched the time the microwaved rice needed to sit), and shredded, then let that sit for a little bit while I did a few other things in the kitchen.

[none of the photos I took are particularly good or interesting, tbh]

Final thoughts

It was: fine. I think I just don't really like chicken breast very much; the whole thing definitely needed a fat of some kind to be properly satisfying. But also, it's hard to go wrong with soy sauce and sugar and garlic and onion. I will say that I think cooking the onion raw in liquid made the house smell weird.

It was a decent dinner, made just enough to have leftovers for lunch today. Mostly I wish I'd had some snow peas or something, tho.

I will probably make it again with the following modifications: chicken thighs instead of breast, and either onion powder or saute the onion first for a little better onion flavor (slash less-weird house smell).

If I were being ✨ fancy ✨, I'd reduce the sauce a bit, maybe with a little cornstarch, and I can see where this is probably a big difference between crock pot (which I don't own) and instant pot.

All of that contingent on actually being able to make good rice, though.

[buckyownsmylife]

Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby​‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

[blzzrdstryr]

Galatea

Yandere(?) Albedo x gn!reader

Wordcount: 2410

CW: Panic attacks, hallucinations, slight dehumanization.

...and his creation was so beautiful: silent and non judgemental, pure and demure, it would endure any of his whims of love and passion.

Albedo looks calm as usual as he scoops the honey from the beehive, even though he doesn’t wear any protection; Bees are angrily buzzing nearby, but otherwise not attacking him. It would look strange to you if you didn’t know the answer: insects are not real. The alchemist created them, turning pure slabs of carbon, water and organic matter into tiny fuzzy bodies, as you watched the scene with wide eyes, one moment and a non-living becomes living. He commented on the whole process and while you tried your best to listen to him there were so many scientific terms and jargons in his speech that after some time you zoned out, preferring to observe the birth of insects instead.

There are bones and flesh and organs growing and fusing together. They writhe and convulse as blood starts to fill them. Whose body is it?

“Is this for examination too?”, you remember that Albedo was collecting honey several days ago, albeit in much lesser quantities, and when you asked what the alchemist was doing, he said it was for comparative analysis.

“Well, you could say that” alchemist looks at the full jar and closes the lid, “Previous analysis showed that this honey has the same compounds as the natural one in the same proportions and isn’t dangerous for consumption”. You nod, urging him to continue - even though Albedo isn’t the chattiest person, you noticed how talkative he becomes when you ask him for explanations.

“Smell and taste are usually dependent on the composition, but there is always a place for exceptions, so I decided to conduct another experiment, one that needs your help”

You raise eyebrows - alchemist, despite actually enjoying your company, usually didn’t disclose much of his work :“Is that so? How can I help?”

Small smile appears on his lips, subtle and controlled, “I want you to taste it”. He looks happy.

You have seen that smile long before. You can’t remember where.

You hate sweets, but there's something stopping you from declining. It's bone-deep and chilling, woven into every fiber of your flesh. You can’t get out the needed words, even if you wanted, with your lips somehow shutting tight at the mere thought. There's something stopping you from saying "no" to Albedo and you assume it's gratitude.

***

The honey turns out to be as sickly sweet as the one from the real bees. You frown, as you take another sip of tea, trying to wash down the saccharine taste from the tongue. Albedo sits in front of you and scribes something in his notebook, throwing occasional glances at you from time to time.

“It seems that we’ll need to keep this secret from Klee” you muse, no longer tasting the nectar on your tongue.

“Why so?” he asks, still writing - his handwriting is too small for you to see from this distance. You could stretch your neck to have a better glimpse, but it would be rude to do, so you refrain, curiosity still nipping at you.

“Well, you know what a big sweet tooth she is, and if she learns that your bees don’t sting...”

“But they do sting, just not me”.

“Why?”

“Bees were created with my will, so they just can’t. It’s against the nature of alchemical creation to oppose its creator”

You hum, processing the new information and guessing how far he would teach you that in your own alchemy lessons. You are far behind Sucrose or Timaeus in your studies, still stuck on basics, but Kreideprinz doesn't look displeased or bored with you. In contrast, mentoring you is something he really likes, judging by the rare smiles he allows himself to show. He proposed to teach you one day and you couldn't find it in yourself to turn him down.

You thought it was strange at first how the recluse seemed to favour you, but then as you familiarized yourself with a man you realized that he liked all things unseen and unheard before and your selective amnesia must be the one.

There are large gaps in your memory, but you can remember some small moments - peeking into a cave and plunging deeper into a forest out of curiosity, spending hours in the library, completely captivated by the book before you, feeling satisfied from finally solving an advanced math problem.

None of the memories include people.

It's an identity forming memories, Albedo theorized when you shared your concerns, experiences shape who we are, [First], and maybe that's why you retained them, they define you.

Were you as reclusive as him then?

A bit later you see what Albedo was drawing: a familiar bird and decapitated head. You are disturbed - how does he know my dreams?

***

Mondstadtians are weird, it’s the first time you leave Albedo’s lab and side, deciding to take a quick stroll around the city and look around. Some look at you with wide eyes, as if you just grew a second head before their eyes, some shamelessly whisper things to each other.

The knight that was assigned to look after you for the duration of the walk is no better than them. He also treats you like some sort of oddity, with all that persistent glances and hesitancy to interact with you.

What kind of person old you were to prompt such a reaction?

Walking along the streets of the city you can't remember any of it. Books that mentioned amnesia and other memory related issues stated that visiting once familiar places can help with overall recollection. Walking along the streets of the city you can't recollect any of it, memories slipping past your fingers like water.

You can’t remember the blue cloudless sky above, or the deep clear lake of the same shade or the gentlest breezes playing with your hair. You can’t recall the bright red roof tiles, or the giant windmills that dwarf other buildings, or the statue of the anemo archont overseeing the city. You can't think of once being among the other idle citizens, of praying and worshipping Barbatos, of participating in the windtrace or Ludi Harpastum. There’s emptiness where a familiarity should be, a dull ache rotting and festering at the back of your mind - I don’t belong here, I never did.

You don’t feel like a part of Mondstadt, not even a single part of you does. There’s an invisible yet unbreakable wall separating you from other people. You can smile and chat and be all polite and nice, yet there’s always a certain coldness and caution others treat you with. You want to be both accepted and left alone, feel loved yet be distant enough to avoid any emotional hurt.

Of course, there are people who managed to get close to you - Albedo and Klee, with the former one being your official caretaker and mentor and the latter being as bright as the Sun, you doubt there’s anyone that couldn’t fall under little girl’s charms, except acting Grandmaster Jean.

That must be why you act so warm towards them, why you decide to bare your soul and feelings towards them, no matter how scary it can be. That’s why you play with Klee, engaging her in less destructive entertainment than the fish blasting and that is why you never refuse Albedo in any of his requests, be it a quick walk on a sunny day or assistance in his experiments.

***

A familiar dream.

You see a giant owl, it's yellow eyes piercing right through you. It's a majestic creature, with snow white fluffy feathers and razor sharp talons. Bird looks at you with all knowing eyes, and then spreads its wings, soundlessly flying in your direction. You dodge it, still marvelling at its grace, as the bird continues its way to the giant head laying behind you.

You turn back still tracing the bird's flight, eyes then turning to the bodiless head. It has the face of an aged man with wise eyes, it's lips move silently chanting. There's something hypnotizing in the chant - listen to me and you will now, listen to me and I will tell you, listen to me and you will learn things that he doesn’t want you to know.

You take a step, hand outstretched to touch it. It burns your skin, and the world around you darkens, all sounds stop and soon enough darkness consumes the bodiless head too, leaving you all alone.

A memory comes.

You're absolutely naked and shivering with Albedo hovering above you. He says something but you can’t understand the words, liquid(?) in your eyes and ears. You hear Sucrose and Timaeus in the background too and how excited they sound.

You turn your head, catching the sight of slabs of pure carbon, bottles of water, pieces of lime and ammonia solution and the rest of organic and inorganic matter lying around you.

There are no thoughts and feelings - you are nothing but an empty vessel that needs to be filled.

"Timaeus, bring the blanket" It's Albedo's voice, “Sucrose, check.. [First]’s temperature. I will observe them”

“[First]?”

“It’s a fitting name”

The memory ends. You wake up.

***

You wake up to Albedo sitting near your bed. It's not a rare occurrence with him frequently checking up on your health, but the memories of previous dreams make you almost jump when you see his silhouette again.

"Uhm, hello?" you still sound husky from sleep.

"Apologies for coming here, I heard your whimpers and decided to check if everything was alright". His face looks as impassive as ever, but there's a concerned tone in his voice. He must be extremely worried then.

"I..” you start but then trail off, unsure what to say. Is the revelation that you dreamt even true? Aside from the strange coincidence and sense of isolation that loomed over you, becoming a bit unbearable with each day, you had nothing to prove your nonsensical conclusion: you are not real.

“I saw a dream, of me lying among the lime and carbon and water” Albedo gives you an intense stare, eyes and expression completely unreadable: “it wasn’t just a dream, was it?”

A moment passes and then another and you feel even more stupid with each second to just come to that conclusion, not to mention saying it outloud. And then the most unexpected thing happens: Albedo nods.

“Yes, yes it happened to you” he suddenly sounds tired, as if he admitted a dark, dark secret, that it arguably is. A shock goes through you, as you start to gasp for air - it’s one thing to speculate and guess, it’s completely different to hear a confirmation.

You can’t exactly remember what happens next - you think you broke down right there and then, as alchemist awkwardly tried to comfort you. He was explaining how and why he created you - he thought that your creation would give him answers he was looking for, solve his internal conflict, and then he started to wonder how different artificial life is from the natural one and that’s why he decided to give you memories.

It was hard at first, he says, to push back the existing ones back and replace them with new. Make you believe that you were born too. Memories were his favourite thing to do, he had a theory you see, that people are majorly products of their environment, and he wanted to prove that with you. That’s why he decided to mold you into a person with traits he usually finds valuable.

In the end you found yourself nursing a hot tea mug with a few drops of calming concoction dissolved in it. Albedo is lingering around in his own disquieted fashion, as you rethink your whole life - can it even be called a life anymore?

You glance at the alchemist fretting around you, frowning, and unsure what to do, the warmth and happiness you felt upon seeing him replaced by disappointment and confusion. Albedo isn't the one who you thought him to be, Archons, you're not the one who you thought yourself to be!

Suddenly the way all others interacted you became crystal clear - they treated you like oddity because you were one. You remember Klee and how she always seemed to love calling you her "bestest special friend". No way they don't know of your origin. No way they will ever treat you like a person.

There's an ache when you think about Klee also turning away from you; She is a sunshine personified right now, spreading her kindness and enthusiasm without even trying, but who knows what will happen once she grows up, will she have a problem with her peers because of you, or she'll adopt the general public's opinion of you? The thought is almost enough to send you into a crying fit again. You want to run far away.

"I want to travel" you finally say, there's no way you can integrate into society when everyone knows what you are and will always see it before who you are. You want to run away and start anew somewhere far, so the rumors will never reach that place and no one will look at you with that wide eyed stare again. You say what you think about this whole situation.

"Please, don't" he says and you of course stop, legs no longer listening to you, "I understand you are distressed right now, but running away isn't the solution"

"But I will never be able to truly connect with anyone, they know it, of my birth, right? The whole city knows about it, right?"

"I know that you want to feel loved, I… We are the same - before your creation I felt the same loneliness, I couldn't bond with anyone save for Klee, but interacting with you was far more pleasant than expected. Relationships are needlessly tiring and I never understood why people focused on them so much, yet now, looking at you I can understand them. I love you, [First], you are perfect".

You still again, now stunted by his words and sudden love confession. It's all so sudden and strange and confusing and you are too tired and too shocked to deal with this, so you decide to distance yourself. "I can't love you in return"

"But you will"

"Why do you think that?"

"It's against your nature to oppose me in anything"

Note: Galatea is an ivory statue created by Pygmalion, who later fell in love with it. The head in reader's dream is decapitated Mimir, a figure in Norse mythology who is known for his knowledge and wisdom. His decapitated head was reciting secret knowledge and giving counsel to Odin.

[the-cult-of-russo]

headcanon for when billy realizes he’s in love with reader? i’m such a sucker for romantic and soft billy😫

I love this. I'm going to go a little beyond just when he first realises too. You'll see. It's turned into more of a 'when Billy's in love with you' headcanon.

I'll break it down into sections once again. It's just easier that way 😌

-

When he first realises he loves you:

Oh man. Billy doesn't realise he's in love until he's so far gone he's drowning in it lmao

He has no idea why he gets crazy ass butterflies in his stomach every time he just thinks about you. No idea why his heart beats all funny when he looks at you or why his chest feels all warm. He doesn't know why everytime he's away from you his chest hurts and it feels like someone's punched a gaping hole right through it. The boy has no clue.

But then one day, he's out drinking with Frank, having a good time. And Frank's been going on and on about Maria, absolutely gushing about her. Billy being the good best friend he is, teases him of course. Sends him an offhand remark with a smirk. And Frank replies with...

"Yeah well. That's what happens when you're in love."

The words feel like a smack to the face. Suddenly, Billy feels like he's free falling, plummeting at record speed towards the concrete from a 50 story building. Because he relates. All the sickening gushing Frank had been doing, Billy got it. He does it himself about you. And Frank's words make everything click into place, Billy's world is suddenly tilting on its axis. Because what if you don't feel the same? Why would you when own his mother couldn't muster up any love for him?

He freaks out. His mind is going to dark places as his heart feels ready to give out. Frank sees him looking a second away from collapsing in a heap on the floor and takes him outside. After some brotherly advice and tough love, he feels a little better.

He still won't tell you though. Of course not, that's just fucking stupid. The fear of rejection runs far too deep in Billy to admit such a thing and he doesn't know how he'd cope if you broke his heart. If he lost the only person he's ever been in love with. So he resolves to keep it to himself. Its kind of nice though, to finally know just what it is that he's been feeling. It was obvious really. People write love songs about this bullshit. The same songs Billy's been listening to like a love sick fool because he gets it. He relates to the words.

-

How he tells you:

Billy won't outright tell you he loves you first. At least not on purpose. There are three likely scenarios that happen.

The first is you telling him you love him first. This is his best case scenario. He blinks warily at you for a moment, dark eyes rapidly scanning your face as he tries to find even the slightest hint of deception. It's not that he doesn't trust you, but he finds it almost impossible to believe anyone would ever be in love with him.

But when he realises you're telling the truth, he's dumbstruck. He's stunned but overwhelmingly happy and he tells you he loves you too. It feels like a weights been lifted, to finally tell you, to know you haven't turned him away. That you actually love him too.

The second way it might happen is him blurting it out randomly. This might happen during or after some amazing sex. Maybe you're both snuggled on the sofa and laughing about something stupid. He just looks at your wide and radiant smile and it strikes him how absolutely hopelessly in love with you he is. How lucky he is to be with you. And his mouth takes on a life of its own. The words tumble from his lips without his consent and he panics.

Total blind fear claws at his chest when he realises what he's said. He fears the worst. That you'll say you don't feel the same, maybe even laugh at him. Yet you don't do those things. You tell him you love him too. He reacts the same as the other scenario. Wary at first until he sees you mean it. And then he's overjoyed and shocked and confused but ridiculously happy.

The last scenario is similar to the other one in that it gets blurted out. Only this time it's during a heated discussion or argument. I made a whole headcanon post about arguing with Billy and another on the kind of things you might argue about.

This isn't a huge fight but most likely caused by something you did that he saw as reckless. Something like you walking home from work in the dark instead of getting a cab or calling him. Is he being overdramatic? Definitely. He knows this. But he's so terrified something might happen to you and it frustrates him that you don't see that. That you have no idea how much it would kill him if you got hurt. And in the middle of all the anger and the blind fear and intensity in the moment, after a biting remark from you, the words get ripped from his chest.

"Because I fuckin' love you, alright?! I'd die if somethin' happened to you! So you don't get to stand there and tell me it's no big deal!"

He's full of barely restrained rage at the mere thought of someone hurting you and he's sad and upset that you don't seem to care much about your own wellbeing.

But now it's a tense silence because he just blurted those words and worst of all, he yelled them at you. It was all going wrong and he hates it. But his panic was kept at bay by his anger, his only outwards reactions being the clenched jaw, the narrowed eyes and the roll of his shoulder. He's steeling himself for the inevitable. The searing pain of rejection.

But then you're yelling right back that you love him too and calling him an asshole and he's never been happier in his damn life. And with emotions still running high from the fight, he tosses you over his shoulder and takes you to the bedroom so he can show you just how much he loves you.

-

Ways he shows you he loves you:

Any of these that don't involve the words 'I love you' he's already been doing a while. But he continues to do so after that hurdle of first telling you passes and he gets comfortable with telling you verbally at every chance he gets.

He loves taking care of you. If he's off work he loves making you breakfast in bed. He loves cooking for you, he's actually quite good at it. He draws you relaxing baths, sometimes joining you and not even for sex. If you've had a hard day at work, he'll put your feet in his lap as you sit on the sofa with him and rub your sore feet.

He often buys you your favorite flowers, always accompanied by a sweet note. When you're both at work, he stops by your work for lunch because he can't stand a whole day away from you.

Since he wakes before you, he often just lays there and watches you. With the sun rising and bathing you in its glow, he watches in awe of how he managed to get someone as amazing as you. He doesn't dwell on these moments for too long though. His treacherous brain has a habit of poisoning anything good. If he lays there too long, his thoughts turn sour as the voice in the back of his head tells him he's not good enough for you. He doesn't deserve you, deserve your love. You'll leave him one day, realise you deserve way better than someone like him. He was an unloved and unwanted child, and that little boy is still there inside of him, hiding behind his bravado and his fancy ass suits. It's a downward spiral he finds it hard to come back from and he learned his lesson long ago. So instead, he allows himself a moment to admire you, appreciate you, and then he gets up for the day.

He doesn't wake you, you look so sweet and peaceful and he doesn't have the heart to. You don't need to get up as early as he does. Sometimes, if he's feeling particularly sappy, he leaves a note for you on his pillow. Letting you know how much he loves you and that he'll miss you while at work.

Gifts are abundant with Billy. It doesn't matter what it is, if you want it then it's yours. If it's expensive, it's yours. Cheap, it's yours. Weird and rare and very hard to get, he finds a way and it's yours. He's also a sucker for sentimental gifts. Jewellery that means something, maybe the date you met engraved on it. Some kind of photo gift with a picture of the two of you.

Billy has a lot of affection to give you. I've talked about this in other posts but he's a tactile person. He always needs to be touching you, reassuring himself you're real, you're safe and you're there with him. He often puts his hand on your neck, slender fingers feeling your pulse under them. It soothes him to do so. There's plenty of kisses on your head, temples, shoulders, neck, cheeks. He can't help it. He also loves stroking your hair. His hand are always attached to you like there's a gravitational pull towards you he can't resist. There's at least one hand on you at all times if you're near.

-

Billy doesn't fall for people easily. It's never happened before you. But when he falls, he falls hard. It's an all consuming kind of love that takes over his whole being.

[holdyourbreathuntilyouseelight]

Hothead

Summary:  Extended station scene from 1x03 between Carlos and TK, from Carlos' POV. A snapshot of how they started to mend things between them after TK had stormed out on the date that Carlos had tried to spring on him.

Rating: General Audiences

A/N: I do not pretend to know anything about the inner workings of a police station, their rules and regulations or what sort of things are contained in their reports. Tried to be as realistic as I could but apologies for any inaccuracies.I also do not claim any ownership of 9-1-1 Lone Star or the associated characters. Pretty sure they own me instead... (:

First foray into the 9-1-1 fandom but hopefully not the last!

Read on AO3 here.

* * *

Carlos was flipping through the files on his desk, making sure he had signed off on the last of them, when a familiar name being spoken caught his attention.

"TK Strand, yeah. He's a firefighter with the 126. Guess he got a little hot-headed."

"You can't keep reusing the same joke every time something involves a firefighter, Ben, seriously."

Carlos looked up from his desk to see two of his colleagues ribbing each other, all talk and no malice.

Jill was right – Ben liked to reuse the same heat-related jokes about firefighters, but his curiosity was peaked over the implication in regards to TK.

"What's that about one of the 126 firefighters? Did they get hostile at a scene we were at or something?"

The two cops looked over at him in surprise. He wasn't normally one to join in on gossip.

"Nah, he was off duty. Started a fight at a bar. Provoked two built men that were drunk off their asses. Bartender called it in after security tried breaking it up."

Carlos felt his worry double. What was TK doing? Why was he picking a fight? He knew he had freaked out on him the other day, making it clear there was a lot more going on internally than he was letting on, but volunteering to get pummeled? That had to be a cry for help.

"EMS clear him?"

"Yeah, he's fine, just some cuts and bruises. He's cooled off now; just gotta process him, give him back his shit, and do the usual stern warning that means bull."

Carlos seized the presented opportunity, hoping Ben would take the bait. "Hey, if it's that easy, why don't I take over? Your shift just ended and I owe you for staying late when I had my abuela's birthday to run to. I've finished the last of my reports from that three car pile-up earlier, so I'm free."

"Well, me and Ella were supposed to do date night tonight… yeah, all right, Reyes. He's all yours. Thanks, man."

"Of course. Have a good time." Carlos said, trying to play it off casual, like it was no big deal, even though he was itching to corner TK and ask what the hell he was thinking. He didn't need his coworkers knowing details about his private life so it was better they didn't know he knew the guy more intimately than professional overlap.

"I think you still owe Spencer, Reyes. Pretty boy is easy on the eyes, even if he is an idiot who started a bar fight." Officer Porter teased.

Carlos didn't bite; the station knew he was out, at least most of them did, so it wasn't that weird of a comment. Reacting would only make it obvious that something had gone on between them and he didn't need a lecture from the sergeant on duty about professional conduct or bias.

Ben passed over the folder on his way to his desk. Carlos immediately sifted through it, scanning the pages quickly to learn the basics of what had gone down.

Caucasian male, mid-to-late twenties, athletic build. 0.0 BAC on breathalyzer test. No abnormalities on basic toxin screen. No prior records with APD. No registered fingerprints in American database. New York driver's license – Tyler Kennedy Strand. Firefighter identification lists station 126. Charges of assault and disturbing the peace dropped by others involved. Release from policy custody with warning.

He read further through the other two men's files, piecing together that the story detailed matched what he had already been told.

Carlos looked up as another one of his colleagues led a handcuffed TK to his work desk and nodded in his direction. He accepted the plastic bag of TK's belongings from Jill and headed over to his… well, he didn't really know what they were.

He watched as TK held an ice pack to his temple, the odd cough wheezing out of him. He probably had a bruised rib or two, if not fractured, and it no doubt left his chest extra tight.

Carlos strode over and dropped the plastic bag of belongings onto the desk without a word.

TK looked up and groaned at the sight of him. "Seriously?"

Carlos grimaced as he sat down. "Austin's a small town, TK. Or should I say, Tyler Kennedy."

"Ugh." TK grumbled, eyes closed as he kept the ice pack against the side of his head.

"Bummer about getting arrested – people might find out your real name. Which marks the first actual thing I've learned about you."

Being good with his mouth, hands, and body notwithstanding…

"Isn't your processing me, like, a conflict of interest?" TK asked, a thin shred of hope clinging to the words.

It wasn't really an issue, given that Carlos hadn't been the deciding officer on charges and, technically, he wasn't even sure what their relationship could be classified as in order to consider it. If anything, it would be their definable working relationship that was the issue, but most officers in the precinct would have the same problem since they all crossed paths at one time or another on the job.

Carlos chose not to answer him, instead changing the subject. "The good news is that neither of your new friends want to talk about that little scuffle tonight…" he explained while unlocking the cuffs around TK's wrists, trying not to react when their hands brushed in the process. "…and since you blew a 0.0, we're not even giving you a drunk and disorderly."

He finally freed TK entirely of the metal, and TK rubbed his wrists, still not looking at him straight on.

Carlos pushed the bag towards him. "You're free to go."

There was a pause as TK digested that.

"And what's the bad news?" he asked as he picked up his stuff.

Carlos inhaled. "The bad news is that means you did this with a clear head." He swallowed before leaning on the desk to bring them closer together, lowering his voice so any nosy coworkers couldn't overhear. "I'm not trying to be your boyfriend, or even your friend if you're not into it, but you should probably talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so suicidal."

TK's eyes held so much pain as he looked back at him that Carlos had to look away. Needing something to do with his hands before he grabbed TK and refused to let go, he tossed the tissue box in front of him.

"You've got a little crud there, by the way." he added, gesturing to the side of his mouth.

TK plucked a tissue out and rubbed at the opposite side of his mouth to where the blood had piled up.

"Other side." he said, staring unblinking at the computer screen without taking any of it in. He was way too hyperaware of the man he hadn't been able to get out of his head to concentrate on the words on the screen.

TK wiped closer to the spot but still missed and didn't get the bulk of it, so Carlos sighed and grabbed a tissue of his own.

"Stop. Just… let me."

Deep green eyes bore into his brown ones as Carlos gently wiped the area, managing to get at least the worst of it. Their gaze was locked so intensely, Carlos was half-expecting sparks to explode in the air. God, he wished he could read TK's mind. There was some sort of storm brewing behind his eyes and Carlos had no idea what kind of emotion was rolling in.

He pulled the tissue away, crushing it up in his fist to stop him from saying or doing something stupid. He had already put his heart on the line enough with the man. No need to solidify his humiliation any further.

"Thanks." TK muttered, looking away finally.

Carlos didn't look at him, pretending to be wrapped up with finalizing the paperwork on the computer.

TK leaned over the desk, crossing an arm over the space between them. "Hey. I'm sorry I went crazy on you the other night." he said softly.

Carlos didn't want to reveal all of his cards, but there was no denying the thrill that rolled through him that TK was trying to apologize for what went down between them the other day. It had been eating him up inside since. And if TK was bringing it up unprompted, maybe that meant it had been bothering him too. And that he actually wanted to mend things between them.

Carlos managed to play it cool and indifferent. "I'm a cop. I'm used to crazy."

"Look, I just went through a really bad breakup. Like, nuclear bad. And then I relapsed."

Carlos had turned his body to face him but couldn't look him in the face, instead busying himself with a report on his desk. "You mean with me?"

Great, he was just a mistake. A 'relapse'. Guess that meant TK slept around, or used to, and it really had meant nothing to him.

"No. I mean with substances."

Carlos finally looked up at that. He wasn't expecting the confession, nor the way that TK was exposing himself to him right then. TK had addiction issues? Had given up substances likely due to misuse or overuse and his breakup had been bad enough to trigger using again?

Something clicked in his memory from the other night and he felt shame wash over him. "Right. Which explains your reaction to the champagne."

He had never asked if TK was even a fan of champagne or alcohol in general. He should've been more respectful and anticipated the idea that maybe TK had a poor relationship with it, or a bad experience, or just wasn't interested in it at all. No wonder he got his back up right away – Carlos had been trying to have a proper date with him but he didn't know this important thing about him. And TK was still probably pretty raw after his relapse that even the pressure to be polite would've been enough to set off some ugly emotions. That he'd have to come up with an excuse or lie, because who wanted to reveal their deepest secrets that early on?

"I'm such an idiot. I'm-I'm sorry…"

TK cut off his stammering. "No, it's fine, okay? I just… ever since I got here, it's just… it's just grey. And I just feel numb, all the time. I guess I just… I wanted to feel something."

TK's eyes were wet now, and there was nothing but heartbreaking honesty reflecting out of them.

Carlos felt his own eyes filling with moisture. He didn't know what to say. Hearing that TK had been hurting so badly, that he still was struggling so much… it broke his heart.

TK slipped his wallet and phone out of the clear bag finally and stood up to leave, heading in direction of the exit without another word. It seemed he had said all he needed to say.

Carlos couldn't let him go yet, couldn't let that be the last thing said between them tonight. "Judging by that lip, I'd say mission accomplished."

TK stared at him in irritable disbelief, the barest hint of amusement at the edges. "You really busting my balls right now?"

"Yeah. I suppose I am." Carlos replied.

He couldn't help the way the corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smirk, and he felt his heart pick up its pace when he saw TK's expression break into one of his gorgeous smiles.

TK shook his head at him in mock-disappointment. "And all this time, I thought you were too good for me."

It was clearly meant in jest, but Carlos could detect the hidden truth behind the words. He was a little too stunned to say anything to dispute it, their easy banter normally coming naturally to him but he was drawing a blank.

It wasn't until the door closed behind him that Carlos moved, and then he was crossing the station to chase him outside.

"TK! Wait."

TK turned from where he was walking down the sidewalk, his movements more ginger now than they were in the station. He likely was in a lot more physical pain than he had let on.

Carlos stood in front of him and inhaled a breath in the hopes that it would instill some courage in him.

"Thank you for telling me all of that. I know that couldn't have been easy. But I want you to know, it doesn't change anything for me. I still want to be with you. Whenever you decide you're ready. I…" He exhaled shakily, glancing down at his shoes as he tried to dig for that bravery somewhere deep inside him. "I really like you, TK. Not just because you're the best sex I've ever had. I… there's something here. I feel it when I'm around you. You're… you're special. You make me feel… so many things I don't know how to name yet."

Great, now he was rambling. Even better, making it clear how much of a lovesick fool he was over the guy. That wouldn't freak him out or anything.

He corrected his throat, trying to calm his anxiety. "Look, all I'm saying is that if you feel anything for me, I can be patient. I can wait until you're more ready. I think you're worth the wait."

TK's responding smile could outshine the sun. He wasted no time in coiling his arms around Carlos' waist and burying his face in his shoulder.

"I really like you too. And I do want to give this a shot. Just… when it has a better chance of not blowing up before it gets started."

Carlos pressed a quick kiss to his good temple before pulling back.

"For now, try to stay out of trouble, okay? You won't always be so lucky to get such an understanding cop like me processing you at the station."

TK blew out an exasperated breath that turned into a laugh. "I'll do my best."

Carlos couldn't help grinning at him, a much bigger fan of a laughing and teasing TK than a shattered and beaten one.

"I should get back. You gonna be okay to get home?"

TK nodded. "Yeah I already called a ride."

"Well, see you later then." Carlos said, not really sure how to be less awkward as he headed back up the stairs to return to the station.

"Hey, Carlos?"

He turned around. "Yeah?"

"Best sex you've ever had, huh?"

TK was sporting his cockiest grin, and Carlos wished he could kiss it off of his stupid smug face.

"You would pick that as the only takeaway from that whole speech…"

TK chuckled. "No, I remember it all. I just latched onto that because it was the same for me too."

Carlos took an extra second to process and then he felt himself flushing in pride.

TK's smile softened, no doubt reading his reaction even from several feet away. "Goodnight, Officer Reyes." he said cheekily as he moved towards the car marked with the Uber sticker that had pulled up.

Carlos could only watch as the car drove off into the night.

He felt a little bereft being apart from TK after all the honesty of the evening. Something about being so vulnerable together gave him the urge to be within close quarters, not wanting to give up the resulting rush that came with exposing your heart and having it be safe with the other person.

But Carlos knew that TK needed time. And he was willing to wait as long as it took.

For now, he returned to his desk, this time with a little more of a spring in his step.

[tk-writer]

Be quiet! - Haikyuu! [Sugahina]

"Suga?"

The veteran setter was rustled awake by the sound of a timid voice calling his name. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes as they tried to adjust to the darkness. A muted flash of orange standing in the doorway alerted him to the source.

"Oh, Hinata. What's wrong?"

He couldn't tell for sure, but Suga had a funny feeling that something was up with the first year. For one, it was the middle of the night and Hinata usually slept like a rock after an intense game. Also, he usually only approached him in private when he was having some sort of emotional problem. They had only just started to get acquainted with one another, but Hinata seemed to trust him a little more than his other teammates, at least with matters relating to the heart.

"Um... I had a weird dream and I can't get back to sleep..."

Suga sat up in bed and scooted over to one side to make room for his disgruntled teammate. He patted the now empty spot and gave him a soft smile.

"Come. Sit."

Hinata scurried over and sat down, curling up his legs and putting his chin in between his knees.

"Was it a bad dream?"

The shorter boy nodded solemnly. It was still pretty dark in the room, but Suga could sense he was fighting back unpleasant emotions. It broke his heart to see the normally spirited boy in such a state. He wondered if it had anything to do with the previous day's lackluster game play, or perhaps his anxiety against facing the Iron Wall.

"Hey, come here."

Without waiting to hear a response, Suga pulled him into a tight hug and squeezed as much as he could without actually hurting him. Hinata didn't protest; his body relaxed a bit in the upperclassman's arms. Suga rocked him to and fro, humming quietly as he rested his head on Hinata's.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?"

The first year nodded eagerly in response, so Suga lifted the covers over the both of them and slowly laid down with Hinata still in his arms.

"Alright, but only for tonight. If Daichi finds out he'll flip."

He whispered it into his ear to emphasize his point, but all it did was make Hinata twitch and scrunch his neck. Suga thought he heard him make a strange sound, something like a muffled grunt, but he wasn't sure why.

"You okay? You're not uncomfortable like this, are you?"

"Ngh... no!! I'm okay!"

Hinata shook his head, but again Suga noticed him jerk up his shoulders while stifling another strained noise. He didn't know what was causing such a reaction when all he was doing was talking in his ear, unless...

Oh.

Ohhh.

That's right.

Hinata was super ticklish.

Suga wanted to face palm himself for the late realization. How many times had he seen their decoy in hysterics after Kageyama or Tanaka launched surprise tickle attacks during practice, or heard his loud shrieks when Tsukihima snuck up behind and gave him jumper cables? After the orange-haired boy had officially joined the team, he had turned into the most popular target for such shenanigans.

Perhaps it was selfish, but after seeing Hinata look so scared and sad, he wanted to hear that silly laugh again so he could get this depressing image out of his mind...

"Why are you so squirmy? Just relax and close your eyes."

As he spoke, Suga traced lazy lines up and down his back through the fabric of his shirt. This made Hinata jerk around even more, especially when he trailed off to his sides. He was having a harder time holding back his vocalizations now; the longer Suga continued his light touches, the louder his choked back giggles became.

"Don't make so much noise. Someone will hear you."

"Aaaah-! Nghhhh! Suga-ahaha...!"

Feeling a bit adventurous, his light stroking became more purposeful as his hands moved from his back onto the sides of his chest. He fluttered his fingers like butterfly wings, eliciting the first actual giggles from the now trapped first year.

“Eheheehehehe! Sugaaaa, that tihihihickles!!”

“Shhhh, you gotta be quiet.”

He feigned ignorance, sneaking up his night shirt and wisping just the tips of his fingers against his bare skin, which made poor Hinata flinch even more. There wasn’t really anywhere to go, with  all of Suga’s limbs latched around him, so the upperclassman just chuckled as he felt him wiggle around uselessly. He found a good spot right under his belly button after some exploring, but pulled back when touching it spurred louder laughs from Hinata.

“Ahahahaha! Stahahap!”

“Aww, Hinata... I forgot you were so ticklish.”

He started circling his stomach, round and round in a circle while Hinata thrashed as much as he could with limited mobility. He unwrapped his arms briefly, just so he could use both of them to tickle different spots at once. His left hand lightly clawed his ribcage while his right skittered from hip to underarm, all while the poor underclassman giggled and writhed beneath him. Seeing him try his best to keep quiet, even while being tickled like this, made Suga’s heart feel even warmer.

“Sugahahaha! Please!! No mohohore!!”

The setter complied right away, his hands suddenly going still, and after a few short seconds he again felt Hinata relax in his arms. He was smiling against his chest, which he’d wormed into at some point during Suga’s teasing. It was cute how perfectly he fit in his embrace; it might not have been ideal for volleyball, but it was perfect for this.

“Alright. Let’s get some sleep. No more bad dreams.”

He laid down once more next to an already half-sleeping Hinata, secretly wishing it could’ve gone on a little longer. Maybe they could play tomorrow, if fate permitted. Either way, Suga went to bed satisfied, knowing he’d done his part to ease the novice player of his worries.

[ae0nx]

FRUITS BASKET S2 EPISODE 19 + 20 RECAP

Hello!! Decided to pair my recap of episode 19 and 20 together since they both kinda flow into each other and explore the same message in different ways through Yuki and Rin. It’s a really nice and interesting flow of story!

Let’s get into it!

------------------------------------------------------------

- Ok, let me get my Shigure hatred out of the way cos I really like some of the stuff he says later. But the fact that he even ATTEMPTED to try and joke about him and Rin having a relationship after we just had that really dodgy scene earlier in the season with him and Rin in his office makes me wanna kick him in the teeth. Anyways...

all the scenes that take place on these stairs are always stunning and i just wanted to show some appreciation of that first. ✨

I love this scene between Hatori and Shigure (I love most scenes between them tbh). I’m beginning to understand that Shigure is for sure the type who believes in ‘using the lesser evils to kill the greater evil’. And, I guess my view of Shigure gets a lot more complicated when I see him through that lens... 

But, I do secretly love very deep down in my soul when Shigure says stuff like this and kinda acts like a trickster God. I have a weakness for trickster Gods.

- Rin feeling both intensely protective about the kind people in her life vs wanting to push them away is actually very reminiscent of our favourite cat, Kyo! Gave me a lot of reminders of this scene:

That uncomfortableness with vulnerability and kindness runs strong with these zodiac kids. It’s sad.

Everyone eventually folds in to Tohru. God tier? (I’m still working on my Tohru is an empathetic God essay)

Aii-ya...

But again, I appreciate how this thought follows through to a resolution and message of ‘needing people’ at the end of episode 20. I’ll get to that later.

- Every time. I love how these moments of Tohru supporting the zodiac are always highlighted by being in the darkness of the night (or rain) to the brightness of the dawn (or clear skies). Poetic. Tohru is a god.

Shigure’s so on point in this episode. I know he’s essentially ‘seed planting’ but... I... might just give him the title of Best Boi for this episode? Yeah... why not 😅

I. LOVE. KIMI. SOOO MUCH. 😂 Her love for chaos is amazing and I love her! Again! Trickster Gods!!! <3 

I CAN’T. Kakeru bickering with Yuki like a scorned lover. Haru essentially being happy for Yuki and playing along (or maybe he was being fully serious, he would). Kakeru being ridiculous and dramatic. It’s alllll gooood!

- The whole scene with Shigure, Kyo, Yuki and Tohru at dinner with the dessert felt all so normal and domestic! It was great, we haven’t had many ‘regular’ scenes since season 1 and it brought me back a little (Also, Tohru noticing how Kyo has been paying more attention to her in the most Tohru of ways was cute as well 👀)

She did look really cute!!! Of course, Rin’s getting Outfit Appreciation cos of course. That’s it. 4 stars.

I love how this is worded and it’s the perfect description for a toxic family setting, in all situations (like... even without the whole cursed to turn into animals thing). Furuba gets so uncomfortably personal sometimes! And again, mixing this with Yuki’s lesson at the end of episode 20 leads to an interesting conclusion... which I wonder if people would be offended by it... but I’ll get to that later.

Lol, as much as I really appreciated that someone had finally asked Tohru the ‘real question’ of why she’s working so hard to break the curse anyway. Rin’s emotional intelligence and empathy to back down from pressing her about it was really lovely.

In general, I really love that none of the characters are just archetypes. Rin could’ve been written like the bad-ass one with an attitude and an awful past but she also ends up being so emotionally intelligent and caring and loving! SO much! 

Also, showing that love can have many unexpected ways of being displayed and expressed. Something which is an ongoing conversation throughout this series...

- The whole scene of Tohru being in bed but dreaming that she was back in her old apartment with her Mum was painfully amazing and definitely relatable. It’s always so haunting when dreams like that happen in general and the look on Tohru’s face at the end when she opens the door just added to it:

Chilling!

Especially if you find a parallel between Tohru’s desperation to be together with her mother to Akito’s desperation to be together with the zodiac...

Tohru is a god

EPISODE 20!!

- Tohru continuing to be a worried mother about Yuki is sweet but also... it’s like... ‘he’ll be okayyyy, Tohru!’ Haha but it’s okay, I think that it’s shown towards the end of this episode that this is kinda the nature of their relationship and Tohru was reassured that Yuki will be ok

Ah, Yuki! How cool of you!!! <3 

(Although the original sub version of this was hilarious with the sudden drop in his voice 😂)

- Goddamn it, Kakeru! Between him throwing the papers and him knocking the plants over the other episode, I’m beginning to think this is an impulse for him as well... 🤨

Haha, turns out I was right!

It’s really great how much Kakeru and Yuki’s relationship has grown to where they can trust each other with secrets or private stuff while they’re both separately dealing with their own lives. It’s just really nice :)

Said so well. Yuki gets Best Boi of this episode, of course.

But seriously, this is a really great display of having to accept trauma to therefore move on. Of course, what Yuki, Kakeru and Rin’s parents do is cruel and wrong in so many ways, but you can’t rely on the option that they’ll eventually get better because so many times that’s not the case.

Yuki specifically has come to a result of him accepting his fate of having these shitty people in his life through family ties but is also adapting the way he can move on personally and grow up despite his shitty circumstances. I said this might be controversial to say as it’s not on the victim who should have to change and be better, it’s the abuser. And there’s a chance someone could read this scene and feel like the show is saying otherwise but I also think there’s a realness to having difficult family members that you may have to be tied to through circumstances.

In conclusion, I’m not saying it’s on the victim of a situation to have to adapt to their situation, that shouldn’t be so. But, at this point, if any of these characters want to grow and develop and just live, they unfortunately need to fight for it. They can’t rely on their abusers somehow becoming better.

- Yuki’s growth is highlighted so much throughout this whole episode but I think I love the scene with his mother the most and showing that while Yuki has grown and no longer even acknowledges his mother as a threat anymore that his mother as well is growing and trying (again, in her own way). Also, Yuki’s awkward face remembering that moment was adorable :3

Aha! <3

- Lol I low-key wanna see Tohru as an evil step-sister as much as I wanna see Hana and Kyo pairing up to be Cinderella and the Prince just to see how chaotic it’d be 

- The closet scene with the black paint really could’ve gone worse if Yuki was still the same as he was in season 1! While Yuki still had an anxious reaction to the situation which was more than understandable (as Kakeru said <3), I love that he’s in a place now where he can almost pick himself up now, be honest about his feelings and he has other people around to go to now for help! In different friendship circles! Wow.

- Machi knocking down the door for him in a silent mutual acknowledgement is so weirdly... gentle.

A MOTHER!!!

-------------------------------------------------------------

I really like how the message interwove over two episodes in different contexts. And I hope I was clear in explaining how I saw how the messages came through in different perspectives.

Fruits Basket, coming through with the painful reality! 🥲

(Sorry for the weird ending) See you sooon!!

[blueaura]

Lost and Found Ch. 3

A/N: Hey guys, just trying my hand out at this fanfic thing. I love reading everyone’s stuff and decided to write something myself. I’m fairly new to Tumblr so any tips or suggestions are highly appreciated. Let me know if y’all like it and would like me to continue. Feedback would be amazing. Thank you and happy reading.

Summary: Sam and Dean meet a young hunter who is a little rough around the edges and they reluctantly take her under their wing. But she might be a little more connected to them that any of them realise.

Word count: 1.9k

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

16 years ago

It was a slow night. Dean had been scouting out players for half an hour, but no one seemed to be in the gambling mood. Finally giving up, he walked up to the bar, ordered a beer and started to look around. If he couldn’t get money, he could at least get lucky.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean softly swore under his breath, a smirk appearing on his face as he walked towards his target, sitting in the corner of the bar. He didn’t know how he missed it, missed her. What he did know was that his night was about to get a hell of a lot better.

“If it isn’t little Sandy L/N,” Dean had a shit-eating grin on his face as he walked towards her table and paused in front of her, “Always late to the party L/N.”

Sandra looked at Dean with the complete opposite expression. Her usually stoic face was pulled into a scowl as she registered what the hunter was saying.

“You got the werewolf.”

“I got the werewolf,” Dean reiterated, causing Sandra’s frown to deepen. She’d driven for over 8 hours for this hunt.

“Don’t be so mad Sandy, after all, the wolf is dead and it looks like both of us have some free time on our hands now.” Dean’s suggestion wasn’t subtle at all. He made a show of looking at her from head to toe and wriggled his eyebrows playfully.

Sandra sighed. Dean was 5 years younger than her but they always seemed to have a good time. Both parties knew that it was just sex and that was the way she preferred it, but Dean had also just ruined her hunt and she was tempted to turn him down. Looking at him again though, she reconsidered. Angry sex was tempting too.

“Buy me a drink and we’ll see.” That was basically Sandy-talk for ‘Yes, we can have sex but I’m not gonna make it easy for you, asshole’ and Dean knew it.

All in all, it was a fun night. And morning. And afternoon. She left that evening and that was the last time he’d heard from her. After that, he thought about her from time to time but she never did like giving her number to other hunters. Then John disappeared, Jess dies and the world went to shit.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about her. Until now.

 Present

Dean was too lost in his memory to realise that Sam had been calling his name for a few minutes. Y/N looked at Dean suspiciously. Dean’s reaction to her mother’s name confused her. As far as she knew, her mother didn’t know the Winchesters. She had even warned Y/N on several occasions about the dangers of mixing with the Winchesters. Sandra wasn’t one to mince words, and she didn’t have anything good to say about the infamous hunters. If she had known them, she surely would have told Y/N. The woman had loved to brag.

“Sandy’s dead?” he whispered softly.

So, needless to say she was completely blindsided with Dean’s reaction. He almost sounded … sad, which was weird because her mother wasn’t a person who usually invoked that emotion in people. Anger – yes, frustration – sure. But sadness? Because of her death?

“You knew my mother.” It wasn’t a question but Dean answered anyway.

“Yeah. We were … friends? Sort of.” Dean swore softly under his breath, processing the new information.

Y/N was quiet for a moment.

“Wait a minute. She didn’t have a kid the last time I saw her. She was in town alone, on a case. She stayed with me for almost a day.”

Sam’s brain started working in over drive.

“How long ago was this?” he asked his brother.

“15? 16 years ago?”

Sam looked at Y/N, jaw clenching just for a second.

“Y/N? How old are you exactly?”

Shit, Y/N thought. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

She entertained the idea of lying but discarded it immediately. Dean was now analysing her, looking for clues most likely. She sighed and reluctantly mumbled the answer.

“You’re gonna have to be louder than that sweetheart.”

“15, alright? I’m fifteen.”

The reaction was almost immediate. Both of them were looking at her incredulously and swearing like sailors.

“Jesus kid! What the hell are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?” Dean was almost yelling at her, berating her for hunting at such a young age, which she thought was a little hypocritical but go off, I guess.

In the middle of all the commotion, Y/N suddenly realised that there was only one voice yelling. Sam was looking at her intensely, taking in every detail, a peculiar look on his face. Before she could ask him what the hell was wrong with him, he softly called out to Dean.

He was still yelling so Sam called out again.

“Dean!” Finally, Dean stopped, turning towards Sam. Before he could say anything, Sam started talking.

“How long ago did you say you last saw Sandra?” Sam had an urgency in his tone that confused the hell out of Y/N. She couldn’t figure out where he was going with this.

Dean paused at Sam’s question.

“About 16 years, why?”

Sam just looked at his brother meaningfully, further confusing Y/N. Apparently, Dean saw where Sam was going with this.

“Oh, hell no! Fuck. No! You’re crazy,” Dean scoffed.

Sam just glared at him. “So, you’re saying you two didn’t?”

“Of course, we did Sammy! But, I’m not an idiot! We used protection.”

Protection?

“Woah, woah, woah! Rewind an-and freeze! Protection? You slept with my mother?” Y/N’s voice grew shriller towards the end of the sentence, making Dean wince and look away in embarrassment.

“That’s gross. I did not need that image in my head!”

She started pacing the small room. Suddenly she came to a stop.

“Wait, why is this relevant anyway?”

Sam glanced at Dean again, who started shaking his head fervently.

“Dude, stop it. I don’t know what is wrong with your brain, maybe you have a concussion but you need to quit this line of thinking right now. You’re freaking me the fuck out,” Dean snarled.

Realisation hit Y/N like a tonne of bricks. What Sam was insinuating, why the timing was important.

“You think Dean is my father?!” It was her turn to look at Sam incredulously. She started laughing. She couldn’t help it. The idea that Dean Winchester was her father was hilarious.

“You said you never knew your dad,” Sam pointed out, ignoring her cackling.

“So? That doesn’t automatically mean Dean is my father Sam, geez.”

“You also said that he was a hunter,” Sam was determined to at least get them to consider the possibility.

“There are a lot of hunters out there!” Y/N was almost hyperventilating at this point. It was too much. Too soon.

“Sammy, shut up,” Dean said firmly. This was not the time for this. Y/N was clearly overwhelmed. Sam noticed and a flash of guilt crossed his eyes.

“Look, all I’m saying is that there is a very real possibility that you two are related. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll back off, alright? Tell me you don’t see it,” Sam said, softly this time. Dean looked at Y/N. She did look like him, or maybe he was imagining things that weren’t there. Maybe it was just a coincidence and he was investing himself into this for no reason, but he had to know. Now that there was a seed of doubt in his head, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he got a real answer.

“Y/N,” Dean called her softly, “look kid, I’m not saying I’m your father. God knows I don’t know how to be one. But I know that you see the coincidences piling up too. Why don’t we figure this out and if Sammy is wrong, we can laugh in his face about all this. And if he isn’t … well we’ll deal with that too.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time, both brothers holding their breath.

“I don’t care,” she snaps, “I have survived without a family my whole life. I don’t need a father. I don’t want a father. Family is poison and I don’t want any part of it. So, I couldn’t care less about biology. I don’t want to know.”

She goes to storm out of the room, barely able to look at the hurt expression on their faces. Before she can reach the for the handle, Dean’s voice booms through the room.

“Well I do. I need to know if I have a damn daughter who I failed. I need to figure this out or I’m gonna go crazy. So, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna get a damn paternity test and put a lid in this argument until we do. But before all that, we’re gonna come back to the fact that you’ve apparently been hunting alone for the past four years. Do you have any idea how fucking dangerous that is? Me and Sam, we’ve been doing this for years, but we still always take back-up! Because hunting alone is dangerous, and reckless, specially for someone who is new to the field. I’m not gonna berate you for your age, God knows I was younger than you when I first started. Its shitty but it happens. But even I was never dumb enough to hunt alone.”

Y/N was getting a whiplash from the change in the conversation. One minute they’re demanding paternity tests, and the next they’re yelling at her about her life choices.

“First of all, we aren’t getting any tests done because one, I’m in the system and you’re supposed to either be dead or are wanted by the FBI, and two, I don’t want to! And you don’t get to dictate how I live my life. You’re barely an acquaintance, not even a friend. So back the fuck off.”

She knew she was being harsh. But she needed them away from her, out of her life. They represented hope – hope for a safe haven, hope for a family, and she didn’t want any part of it. It was better to be alone than set yourself up for more pain.

Dean was quickly losing his patience.

“Look, you have 2 options. You can either come with us and we can figure all this out, at your pace, or I can give Jody a call and she can arrange for you to live with her. She’s already fostering 3 girls and she’d be happy to take you in. You won’t be able to run away from there either, which is great.”

She glared at him.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to make us angry so that we abandon you. I know all the tricks in the book kiddo, you ain’t fooling me that easily. I don’t know if I’m actually your father but I’ll be damned if I let you go off on your own again. You can either come with us or go to Jody. Choice is yours.”

With that, Dean stormed off to search for a bar. It had been a long day and he needed a damn beer.

Chapter 4 

TAGS:  @vicmc624​ @buttercookiemachoman​  @carisi-sonny​ @link--in--bio

If anyone else would like to be tagged, please send me an ask (: Thanks for reading!

[kwrittink]

Making Sure

Pairing: Human!Reader x Werewolf! Bangchan

Genre: Fluff/Smut

Warnings: language, mentions of intercourse, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of knotting, intercourse, mentions of overstimulation

You stared at the bright pink paper in awe, heart thrumming with force inside your chest enough to make your fingers tremble with the echo.

That was impossible. You couldn't be-

Well, it wasn't exactly impossible and you actually would very much like to be- Sigh. You were scared to even complete the thought. False hope after all those years would break your heart.

The issue to trust that thin strip of testing paper was that everything you convinced yourself to be conformed with, every built hope after all these years would crumble to dust. Because history haven't been kind to some beings in matters of love.

And it wasn't a problem of your own body, gods forbid. It was because of who you loved - what he was.

Christopher Bang - your Chris, your Bangchan, the love of your life - was a werewolf, coming from a secular pure-blood family, to top. It didn't bother you the kind your boyfriend, actually was even something you've pointed out as a joke for him being from Australia, a country that withheld the most dangerous animals in the whole world.

The only thing that was surprising was the incompatibility of genes between his kind and your simple, feeble human species. Of course, there was a reason for that, which when you first decided to go steady and live together, he made sure to explain, in a way giving you option to back up from the whole relationship. So silly of him. What mattered that humans had, over the centuries, developed their genes in a way that made it almost impossible to be mated with other species that not their own? You loved him, anything else was manageable. If you or him wanted kids in the future you could always adopt, was it a little were-baby or a human one. Or both.

But it was weird. You had an irregular cycle naturally but didn't really worry about that - for obvious reasons - and maintained a really healthy sexual life with your mate, for his instincts of breeding you couldn't be suppressed, and you wouldn't want them to for the world. The weird thing is that you haven't been late for this long ever. It's been four months already and not a sign of blood.

At first you didn't pay any mind, only sighing at the thought of the cramps that would come once your period decided to show up - the longer it took, the worse they were - but no more of that crossed your mind. But after the third month, it started worrying you, and you went to the doctor but nothing was wrong with you, apparently.

One day, you started piecing some things together. Christopher had been away for around two months - three actually, with a little break he took to see you for anniversary - and you were already late for close to a month at that time. You had sexual relations as usual and, as always, he had 'impregnated' you, just for the sake of his instincts, nesting with you afterwards. The memory made you smile sweetly, even if you felt a blush creeping up your neck at the replay of that afternoon in your mind.

Either way, it was impossible. Wasn't it?

So there you sat atop of the toilet, staring at the former white strip of paper you had peed on almost with sarcasm, watching as it turned a hit pink shade gradually, eyes widening at the same rate. Still, you couldn't believe it.

A ping echoed through the bathroom and in the back of your mind you recalled the date, your birthday, and also the date that your boyfriend would be arriving from work, for a well-deserved break. And you weren't exactly sure of how to breathe, what to say act. Not wanting to believe a blessing but desperately wanting to be proved wrong, for once.

---

When Chris arrived home, it was quiet. Of course, he could clearly feel your presence in the house - probably napping - and smiled to himself while placing the bag on the floor, right behind the door. "I'm home," he whispered to himself, chucking his shoes off.

It wasn't till he reached the corridor, stripping off his coat that he smelled it. The scents of jasmine, orange and... Something else, a sweetness he couldn't quite place filled his nostrils and made him halt, right in front of the bathroom door. Whatever you were planning, Chris was already enjoying it a lot.

"Take off everything before entering," your voice instructed as his fingers barely touched the door, bringing a shudder through his whole body. Not hesitating he practically tore his clothes off, excitement coursing through his body heating immediately like a fever, then pushing the door open at once, eyes zeroing on your figure, sitting inside the tub in your birthday suit, water the only cover around your body. As he breathe in again the scents, it almost made him dizzy, that unknown particular tang stirring something inside of him.

"Hi handsome," you smiled at him, and his heart leaped, grin widening and shoulders relaxing, thought his gaze grew hungrier at the sight of your bare skin. "Are you going to stand there the whole night or come bathe with me?"

And that prompted him to move with a small grunt, seeing the glint in your eyes as the now full-standing need hit his navel with every step. But that could wait, he needed to feel you in his arms again, it had been so long. Too long.

"How I've missed that smart mouth," he said, dipping into the warm water right in front of you, hands immediately reaching for your sides and pulling you towards his body, happy with how your legs instantly wrapped around his waist, skin meeting skin almost merging together, lips connecting with yearning after a chuckle had escaped you at his response.

And then you was everything he could taste, everything he wanted to drink, to drown in, all he could feel. Your hands on his body were soothing, fingers mapping territory already claimed, grounding themselves back into their place. It was you, but... This time it was more, for some reason. He knew you inside out and was deeply familiar with all your scents, capable of recognizing your presence a mile away. And it was present, but had something that made his nose itch a little. Wasn't a threatening scent, just... Different. Nothing bad, his gut told him, just unknown. Later on he'd dwell on it further, now he had a different task in mind, and from the way you were teasing him, hands roaming downwards often, you too were focused on something more interesting.

Carefully, you were lifted from the bath and carried to the bedroom, not minding the wet state of your bodies as he laid you on the bed, hovering over you with adoring eyes roaming your figure. It always made you flush, just at if it was the first time, the first encounter.

"Hi," Chris once again smiled, your heart stuttering at the sight of his beautiful face, knowing you were the cause of the expression. "Happy birthday, beautiful."

At that he leaned, pressing his lips back to yours rather briefly, before nuzzling his way to your neck and downwards, tongue laving at you mating scar, nose pressed, inhaling deeply and a low, pleased rumbling inside his chest that somehow only made the inside of your thighs damper. Your eyes fluttered close when one of his hands that supported his weight at either side of you went to tease your chest, fingertips running as light as a feather over a nipple and coaxing a hum from you and a sniffle from Chris, still amazed at how he affected you.

Eyes trained on you he kept silently tasting you, pushing your body towards madness and reveling on your noises, almost torturing himself on the process.

"Chris, I need you... Please-" your breath hitched as finally, his fingers reached the scorching heat between your legs, parting them to give him better access and instantly intoxicating Chris with your needy scent, vision almost blackening and mouth salivating. He too, needed to be sheathed inside your warmth, but not yet. There was a process to avoid hurting you with his girth, as it had been a while since you two were together and barely could fit three fingers inside your wetness.

"Shh love, I know. I too need you terribly, but I don't want to hurt you, babygi-" He felt choked up as he, after retracting his fingers from you, to pop them in his mouth, the instinct in him needing to taste you to know if you were fertile. You always though it was hot and had your eyes wide open to look at the scene, so witnessed the reaction he had, brow furrowing with worry.

"W-what's wrong, Chan?" You tried to ask, voice practically lost and hoarse, hearing a growl starting at his chest, eyes closed and body tense. He'd never growled at you, certainly not in the bedroom, so the behavior was preoccupying to say the least.

At the other hand, Chris was trying to deal with the unknown, at first the scent and then the taste, anxious enough to break into a low growl right in front of you. He couldn't ignore that change anymore. But what was it? It wasn't another male, completely out of the question - you both loved each other to bits - but somehow it was another being.

Another... Being?

"Christopher Bang what is going on?!" You were starting to get annoyed at his lack of response, getting up to your knees to cup his face and maybe snap him out of the trance he found himself in. "Chris-"

"...nant?" All of a sudden Chan stopped growling, choking up half a word that somehow you were able to figure, eyes meeting yours with such intensity and emotion that it felt like a punch to the gut.

"Say it again?" Still you insisted, wanting to hear the truth from the only one that could give you that assurance, that could be sure there was a life growing inside of you.

"You're..." Chris breathed out shakily, as scared to speak as you were to hear it, a rare whimpering undertone to his voice that broke your heart, but made you understand instantly how emotional that made him. "You're pregnant, love. With my pup." Chris broke the news with a cracking voice and teary eyes, arms snaking around your waist to pull you flush to his body, the inferno that was his skin feeling soothing against yours, body relaxing instantly.

"Are you sure, Chan? Is it really true?" You dared to ask, breathless as you hugged him back tighter. While nuzzling your neck he nodded, giving the sensitive skin a peck that made you hum, happy and calm.

"But I," and he had to lean back and look at you, lustful glint back on his deep brown eyes. "I wanna make sure... That you're full of me," Softly, he pushed your body back down to the mattress as you chuckled, predicting that as much. You wanted too, to be sure you were positively pregnant.

"Then by all means, Chan... Knot me." You gave him the push needed to start moving again, palms previously holding your hips sliding further down to knead plumper flesh, the previous worry of stretching you out beforehand flying off the window as you teasingly ground up to his crotch, prompting a pleased hum and a quick pump just to coat himself further with both your juices and lining to yearning entrance, sluggish movements covering for the eagerness you could see stamped on his face.

"You know better than to fuck- Than to say those things to me babygirl," with one push he entered your heat at last, the pain of the stretch always there and present, but something you secretly loved so much it took your breath away, eyes rolling back as he moved, pounding your insides slow and deep. "I'll fuck so many more babies into you Y/N, do you want it?"

"Yes Chris- I want you to keep fucking pups into me," you breathed out, feeling his fingers sink on your butt cheeks as the words sank in. It was so much more than some fetish coming true, it was almost a miracle. Something he had inwardly wished to come true, even if settled with the knowledge that it would probably never be achieved. But the chances weren't zero, as it turned out.

Hips snapping, Chris drew out a loud groan from you as he started a faster pace, your walls clamping around him claiming his seed and from the way the was wound up, it wouldn't take so long.

"Fuck- I c-can't wait to see you so round and plump with our ch-children," you noticed that it was starting to get hard for Chris to speak, the stutter of his voice a clear telltale that he was about to spill at any second, and you probably never wanted his knot so much in your whole life.

"Then - ah! - cum and p-plug your mate... your mmh b-bitch," his whole body shuddered at your words, a grunting mixed with a moan bouncing off the walls as he pushed himself one last time deeply inside of you, hitting that one spot inside so perfectly that it made you see stars the next second, growing orgasm released just like that, in waves of heat that made you blind. Chris, further coaxed by your orgasm, couldn't help the howl that left him while cumming, so hard his whole body shook.

As his knot started to swell, doing exactly its work of plugging you so none of his seed escaped, Chris maneuvered your body from underneath to on top of him, with the pretense of serving as a pillow for you, as always. But even feeling weak, you weren't having it and, at the mere feeling of shrinking you sat up, grinding down to Bang, trying to get him ready for the next round.

"Whoa, I'm still a little sensitive love, just wait a little bit-" you pressed a finger to his lips, dealing with your own sensitivity, but used to the feeling already.

"Weren't you the one wanting to make sure I was full of your pups?" A twitch inside of you made you grin, and you watched his face blushing slightly, grinding again. "Besides, it's time you pay for all those times you fucked orgasm after orgasm out of me."

Biting his lip to stifle a whimper, Chris grinned at you. "Oh but that's just because my mate loves it, right?"

You snickered, leaning to quickly peck his lips. "Yes, and I'll make sure you love it, too."

___________________

masterlist

[royallyprincesslilly]

Do you have any tips on writing angst? I want my writing to contain more of it, but I think I might be missing something?

Oh wow, what a question. This took some time because I really had to get my thoughts planned out. I'm going to try to tackle this, but keep in mind what works for me might not work for everyone. This will be long. I'm sorry if you don't want to read a long, drawn out post. Here it comes.😬 (This took a little over an hour to put together mainly cause I write too much. Smh🤦🏽‍♀️)

That being said, my background in psychology helps a lot when writing angst and characters in general. I like to think of it as my secret weapon. Lol. 😁

However, I like to think of angst as slowing it down, stretching it out, and digging deeper into details, feelings, thoughts, and emotions. It helps to have a significant understanding of how human emotions work and how it connects to the body's reaction to and display of it.

For instance, you're about to confess your love to your BFF. Typically emotions include anxiousness and nervousness (fidgeting, inability to make eye contact, rapidly beating heart, dry mouth, etc.), fear (mirrors above but add racing thoughts, physical shaking, etc.).

Now go back and stretch those feelings out in detail. Describe that anxiousness as it relates to something, talk about what is being fidgeted with, mention things the eyes land on when not making eye contact, etc.

Also, make the character's situation believable. For me, a big part of my writing, unless specified, is reality and grasping close to it. I don't over stylize and create insane situations that could never in a million years happen. Think about "Rumor Has It," this tangled web of Ana, Chris, Uriah, and Christiano. Do you see this happening in everyday life with every couple? No, not really. Probably not, and if so, not on this scale. Is it something that is possible? Yes, absolutely, because people with these issues and characteristics exist.

When writing angst, use imagery. For me, that means describing everything. I describe the physical aspects both immediate(self, person character is with),  exterior (other people around, things), emotional aspects (self unless writing in 3rd person then all), psychological elements and sometimes even social aspects. I try to keep the details down, but I will admit sometimes I get carried away in it and just write like 700 words on description and feelings, and I have to go back and trim. So do it with as much detail as possible for you. Just keep in mind to describe things in a beautiful but sorrowful way. I like to think of it as poetry. That might be weird.😬

I know descriptive writing can be a challenge for anyone. Try your best.

I also love one thing I learned long ago. Ask yourself, "what does the character(s) want"? Figure it out and throw everything at them to prevent it and them getting it while keeping in mind that the past, present, and future should have clear causes and effects on the characters and story.

Details are important. I like to think the smaller the detail, the more description. For example, imagine the button on a peacoat. You are staring at it using it as a focal point; describe that tiny detail, in greater detail. Include feelings as you're focusing on it. Why do you need a focal point? Do you feel like you're going crazy? Why? Does it remind you of anything like a spider's web with the way the thread is tightly wrapped around the button? Does that spider's web make you think of deception? Etc. The same can go for details about people. Keep in mind that old tired thing we learned in H.S English class, the 5Ws and an H. (Who, what, when, where and why then how)

Remember, the level of angst depends on your character's personality and the circumstances of the story.

Angst can be challenging, especially knowing the right level to go to and how much is enough. There's a careful balance to it that can get tricky. You want it to touch the heart, be powerful, even gut-wrenching maybe, and filled with authentic, raw, human emotion. You dont want it to be or feel forced or fake, so going overboard can quickly turn it depressive and confusing.

If possible, I would say, try to draw inspiration from your personal angsty experiences or those close to you that you have interacted with. Make the stories of others that you draw inspiration from, stories that you understand and relate to.

Remember, while angst is cool, all angst 24/7 might be a bit much unless specified from the get-go. I find it essential to give small rewards to readers throughout the process. Think of it as a tug o war game.

You are pulling all these emotions, and while pulling them, you are throwing them out too. When you feel the timing is right, slacken that rope and give some breathers, rays of sunshine, happiness, joy, other positive emotions.

Show the glimmer of hope every once in a while and the progress being made. I use angst as an intense changing factor for my characters. I can't do meaningless angst, and I don't suggest you do it either. Readers can see right through it.

A final thing I can add because I feel like this is long as hell and don't want to make this ridiculously long, you can complete it with a cliffhanger.

I looooove cliffhangers. Lmaoo

I really hope this answered your question, and I hope you found this helpful. Remember, this is what works for me and might not for others, and this is in no way meant to be the end all be all on the topic.

Don't put too much pressure on yourself, You're doing great. The important thing is having fun while writing. So, happy writing. ☺

***If the spacing is off, I apologize. I wrote this in my notes and pasted it here.

[izukult]

This is such a cute idea! I’m addicted to making weirdly specific Spotify playlists so this is perfect. I have an ✨eclectic✨ music taste but my favorites are usually bedroom pop (mxmtoon, chloe moriondo, khai dreams, etc), romantic classical (think Debussy and Revel), and indie (although I like some Megan Thee Stallion, AC/DC, Nirvana, etc when I’m hyping myself up). As far as my personality goes, I’m pretty insightful and like to support people whenever I can, even if I don’t know them well. I can be a little chaotic sometimes, but I like to think it’s a chaotic good. I love tea, blankets, philosophy, deep conversations, the outdoors, and writing. I’m also an INFP and a Taurus :)

Sorry if that was too much, thank you so much! Take care of yourself and stay well

- Elle ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

( @snoozless ) you don’t understand how bad i want to be your friend. 😐😐 ok so you kind of get bonus 😀 but it rly might not be bonus because akfjakdkw. so, i gave you matsukawa!! but he’s not always like revered about so if u want a character lmk!! i am. in love w him tho. you’re so sweet you would balance him out and yall would be equally chaotic together.

he would have philosophical questions w u!! he might just be a little blunt & might accidentally cut the convo short, but he would listen to everything you said.

he’s used to a wide variety of music bc i’m convinced the seijoh playlists are absolutely fucking cracked like so loud. so he really could sit there and listen to anything. and i mean ANYTHING. like if you wanted to put on christian rock he’d awkwardly try to tap his foot on beat for you.

but, that doesn’t mean he’s gonna geek over you i feel like he’d be pretty private about the relationship. he’s not like secretive but he’s not gonna post you every two seconds yknow? he wouldnt put prom photos, but if yall went to look at the stars or go on a little hike he’d take a pic and youre wearing baggy sweats and one of his shirts and your hair isnt brushed for shit and it’s way too dark to properly make your face out and he’d put that shit on his main absolutely 😒

this man would be the kind of mf to look up his “crush’s” zodiac just for shits & giggles, so if he randomly knows a taurus fact, don’t question it<3 (he looked up your compatibility and he will take that to the grave)

issei is an infp idc. so yall got that in common.

he’s genuinely so pretty.

bc i took so long, i’m going to put descriptions for all the songs i love you thanks for requesting sorry for taking forever i’ll link the playlist and list the songs<3

1. silly girl- chloe moriondo

okay while this song is actually kinda sad, i think tHIS is pretty cute. issei comes off as this intimidating guy, and the more you get to know him the more you forget ab this idea of him you had or whatever? like the lyrics “i made him perfect, cause i wanted him to be” are really prominent in the point i’m tryna make because like even tho the lyric is obviously sad bitch shit, music is up for interpretation and this is like “hello ok he actually a real mf and shiiit maybe he cool😁✊”

2. nice boys- TEMPOREX

kinda sad. i don’t care how unemotional he might act, everyone has shit that brings them down. PLUS HES A PISCES THERES NO WAY HES NOT SAD SOMETIMES. this song just really taps into insecurities for him, and the song just gets under his skin in like a very therapeutic way. also “because he’s a pisces” some of his emotions are super intense so the “because he cares too much” line hits him fuckin hard

3. IV. sweatpants- childish gambino

this is some shit he listens to more with his team, absolutely. no doubt they blare this shit during weekly practice. but, he really really likes the song. so, when you’re hanging out and he has the aux? it’s one of the first ones he puts on. you two jam to it together. he’ll come up w dumb little dances to fit with certain lyrics (stole some of them from oikawa and hanamaki, but he won’t tell you)

4. you get me so high- the neighbourhood

okay unfortunately i must say him and hanamaki get fuckin faded in empty fields at two am all trashy like. but they make it look good idc. and if you smoke, cool, if you don’t he does not care. he always associated getting high with,,, getting high and everytime he listened to this song it just was one of his getting blazed jams, but now he’s got like a different kinda “euphoric” feel with loving you? like i said this bitch is a pisces even if he doesn’t overwhelm you with affection, he thinks ab you 24/7

5. 80’s makeout session- dacelynn

thIS SONG IS SO CUTE. but it’s p self explanatory. in love and also spare a kiss pls

6. can i call you tonight- dayglow

i feel like actually coming to terms with genuine feelings for someone would be kind of weird for issei. like no offense, but he sees it as kind of a pain in the ass. i genuinely think he would be someone to put his all into work or a task in front of him. he’s super intuitive, and constantly uses it to be better. whether it’s in volleyball or like cremating ppl i guess (HE WORKS INA FUNERAL HOME POST TIME SKIP IF U DIDNT KNOW). and it’s the same in relationships, but it’s also harder because he can’t have this complete clear head because you make his brain go kinda fuzzy. so, this song is like his little way of expressing that even tho he was like ‘internally conflicted’ this mf chose to go for it and that’s how much u mean to him

7. clair de lune, L. 32- claude debussy

i’m gonna be fucking honest with you. even though he’ll listen to anything, i really don’t think this man is looking up ‘classical romance study tunes’ playlists in his free time. he definitely enjoys the music, but that’s only if someone points it out to him. and he’s listened to you talk about it before, and watched you as you heard the piano and gauged your reactions and thought u were pretty cute he’s not gonna lie😼. so he definitely just looked up classical romance and picked the first recommended song and added it on there. he’ll dance w you a lil bit, but it wouldn’t be that quiet, intimate slow dancing in the dark you think would come w this song. itd just be a little sway as he hugs you from behind while you get water, or he twirls you once randomly with a laugh UGH I LOVE HIM

8. like real people do- hozier

ok. this one was fun for me. idc. double meaning lol. so this song is literally about two dead bodies in a bog and ,,, and he works in a funeral home PLS LMAOFJAJDJA I THINK THATS SO FUCKING FUNNY AND SO DOES HE. but also this song literally is my idea of love. this is my idea of love. and yall listen to it, with your stupid little death joke, but he looks at you and he’s just like ‘oh’. yknow? YKNOW?

9. BS- still woozy

like i said, i think he puts a lot into work. and he literally plays for a powerhouse school there’s no way he doesn’t practice a lot. so that means there’s a lot of time where he’s physically not there and definitely can’t text, because he’s trying to improve. and while he wouldn’t stop volleyball for someone else, he understands that you are like super amazing for being so Cool with him not being the most available. the song just reminds him of how compassionate you are and also he does miss u when he’s at practice YKNOW?

10. i <3 u- boy pablo

this one made me so fucking soft ew. ok. this song reminds him of you so so much. he’s totally okay being vulnerable with you? and even though he has pretty heightened emotions, he’s never felt like so strongly for smth other than like ??? volleyball and caring ab his siblings (BUT HE FEELS DIFFERENT FOR U THAN HE DOES FOR A VOLLEYBALL AND HIS SIBLINGS PLEASE😁). HE LUVVVVV YOU

11. heart-shaped box- nirvana

so many reasons. for one, simply fucking JAM. yall would scream this on a drive. if you ever got drunk together, this would be the first song you play. also, little lyrics remind you of each other. (the pisces lyric in the first and third verse, and even tho the flowers aren’t being used in a sweet sense in the song he does remember talking ab flowers w u, and now any flower is mentioned and he’s like “ah yes. my girlfriend.”)

12. pluto projector- rex orange county

FUCK. FUCK THIS SONG. GOD. NO. LIKE HE REALIZES HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. HE T E L L S YOU HE’S IN LOVE WITH YOU WITH THIS SONG. the first time, he just sends you the name of it like ‘pluto projector <3’ and you listen and it’s so sweet and ur like ayo turn this shit up. and he adds it to your playlist, which definitely gets a smile from you. and then one night like two weeks later youre just laying together, and he’s running his fingers through his hair and he pulls away for a second to grab his phone and he turns the song on and you just listen to it in silence and it’s so fucking intimate. and he’s just like “i don’t think i’ve ever related to a song more” and you think he’s making a joke so you tell him to shut up (also jokingly) and he just laughs and it’s dark in his room and he’s playing with your hair again and he just goes “god, if you’re telling me to shut up over that i don’t even want to imagine how you’re gonna react when i tell you i love you” and it’s right around 3:10 in the song i’m literally so gone for him. bye you cry and try to hide it but he can tell HES PERCEPTIVE

13. i wanna be yours- arctic monkeys

okay for one, it’s a good song. it’s a song he absolutely let’s play in the background, just to cover the static lol. but also? ALSO? THE TITLE APPLIES TO YOU THE FUCK? it’s as if,,, he’s whipped,,

14. supermassive black hole- muse

hanamaki prolly showed him this song, and it’s one of his vibe songs. he will do falsetto while singing it if he’s in a really good mood and it just makes everyone laugh, including himself. it actually kind of grosses him out, because this song used to literally just be a song he would aimlessly go hard to but NOW his little bitch ass is like “you set my soul alight”? i guess i relate and “oh baby, i’m a fool for you” well, surely i’m not a fool but yea i get you muse sing it. it’s so gross. at this point he wants one thing that doesn’t make him think of you, just to prove that he’s not that gone, but he struggling

15. desperado- rhianna

i’m sorry to say it but this song makes him feel like a bad bitch LMAOOOOO. like if he’s ever getting pregame jitters or anything, he will just play this song. whether it’s on the speaker or in his headphones, he puts this shit on full volume and gets a lil too cocky LOL. this is also on the main seijoh playlist no doubt. he wants to share his bad bitch song w you, so you can aLSO feel like a bad bitch?? dUH

IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT BABES! IF YOU WANT ANY OF THE SONGS CHANGED (or even the character) LMK!! UR AMAZING ur so sweet it makes me ill

[ravenwritesstuff]

So we've got Kristanna now, and I TOTALLY agree but could you also share what's bothering you in Elsa in F2, please? I suppose you like her, and I feel like something's off with her, just can't figure out what exactly (except this Christ-like persona she becomes at the end). Even though I liked her creation better than A and K's... I still think characterization was a total disaster in this movie, and so was portrayal of A/K and E/A relations...

Okay. I have a fucking bone to pick with this one.

I have no idea if this will resonate with you or what your cognitive dissonance is with Elsa as a character BUT this is what squicks me.

I say all of this also admitting that Elsa is one of my favorite characters in Frozen because of the potential she had, but not because of how she actually turned out.

The biggest issue I personally have with Elsa is that they mishandle her trauma and anxiety on so many levels.

It seems the writers were never sure if they want her to be a confident queen or a cowering child or intrepid adventurer.

I understand better than most that when it comes to being a chronic over thinker with over bearing/semi-abusive parents and generalized anxiety disorder on top of PTSD - sometimes you have good days. Sometimes you have good minutes. Sometimes you fall into a wasteland that makes suicide seem like a logical choice, but the way they handle it with her was so inconsistent and all over the place.

Even in an irregular mind there are set patterns and triggers.

Which leads me to my next point in that I am not sure if they realized they were writing a character with PTSD and anxiety.

In many ways her reactions are written more like she just lacks confidence in her abilities.

I do not think this is a fair portrayal since we are also shown her panic, her fear, and her intense desire to please authority figures/save face/pressure to not kill someone with the powers she never wanted.

She saw her sister, her favorite human in the world, almost DIE from her abilities and was told by a weird rock creature that people were going to kill her because of her powers.

Hell. If that wasn’t enough to screw her up for life then:

Her parents died (They fucking DIED).

And they were the ones that completely controlled her existence and told her what to do and isolated her form the rest of the world.

Even with their death she cannot even break free of those rules and just be honest with her only other living relative that would support her 2,000% because #PTSD and #EmotionalAbuse.

Elsa is a fucking mess and they show that she is a fucking mess but then they fix it with... I am not exactly sure?

Just like the end of Frozen, Frozen II falls into the same trap of having Elsa experience some revelatory platitude that makes very little sense and then she is just... okay?

She just suddenly rewires every single synapse and behavioral trigger from DECADES of ingrained thinking and mental mapping because you sing a song (Show Yourself)? Or a nebulous concept (Anna mentioning love)?

Yeah.

It’s bull shit.

They have a chance to really show what it is like to have a character struggle with trauma and anxiety in a real way that could be helpful to young people but instead they alienate them further by making it even less approachable by making it seem like if they just found that one simple phrase, that silver bullet, they will suddenly be mentally stable.

That is a fucking nasty worm to plant in the head of a kid that struggles with any form of mental issues.

So instead of being a potential champion of and instructive/conversational aid for people who live with trauma, anxiety, et al. Elsa instead becomes the cultural cancer that keeps most of us silent.

Why can’t we just fix ourselves?

Why can’t we just realize we are loved?

Why can’t we just be fucking normal and stop freaking out about every fucking thing?

BeCauSe ThAt iS nOt HoW tHiS WorKs okAY?

The shit she went through stays for life and takes HUNDREDS of intentional hours with a professional to work through.

Anyway I am so over that noise.

Elsa is a FUCKING TRAINWRECK and not just because of her trauma, but because of how she is written.

She is inconsistent and not because of her underlying emotional state but because writers had to force a plot onto her that did not fit with her mental state and gave her zero opportunity for actually growth.

All of Elsa’s growth in Frozen and Frozen II is synthesized. It has no substance, no backing, no work, no actual effort. It just... happens.

We have no investment in her actually developing or improving as a character.

She has fucking ice powers. Okay?!

What else do we need?

Uhhhh...

A lot?

Maybe her actually working through her massive issues in a productive, effort filled way instead of just have 3 songs and then being 100% normal?

Basically Elsa had potential to be such an amazing avenue for discussion about abuse and mental health and instead that gave her sparkly dresses (the dresses aren’t the issue) and the ability to create sentient life out of snow that has more self-perceptive abilities that she does.

(((ALSO the way the portray her as a ‘loving’ sister is the biggest pile of shit I have ever seen. She is fucking abusive towards Anna from start to finish and it is disgusting)))

But that is another 1,000 word rant so imma sign off now

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi guys! I I'm an ENXP and I was looking for some advice about knowing myself better. I saw the mods are ENPs and maybe you guys could help me. I recently noticed a pattern regarding my own actions that is basically ruining my life. I seem to rely too much on my Ne, specially about my future and my career. I'm ruled by a need of pursuing anything that catches my attention in a determined moment. I obsess over it for a while and then move on. I've changed my major 4 times now. Every activity I do is temporary. And if I don't find something I can obsess over I get depressed and bored. Anyways, I think this has led me to not trust myself anymore, since I can't commit to anything because I lose interest in everything and I'm always looking for new possibilities. I have reached a point where I can't allow myself to pursue everything I want and I have to make decisions and commit. But I'm too scared to become trapped and take responsibility for my own decisions. I think this would be easier if I knew myself better, but I don't think I know who I am besides my own random interests, which is weird I guess. How can I develop my own Fi? Or Ti? How do you guys deal with your dominant Ne? How do you commit to things? I'm 23 by the way. Shouldn't I have developed some Fi or Ti or something by now? I turned to mbti because I wanted to gain a better understanding of myself but holy shit this is hard. I could only recognize my dominant Ne. All this self analysis seems useless if I don't really know myself, I realized I'm not self aware at all. So anyways, as fellows Ne doms how did you guys developed your auxiliary functions? Any advice will be amazing! Thank you guys for everything you do here!

The first thing you need to do is recognize is you are an Enneagram 7 and all of this is ‘normal’ for them in lower health levels. To overcome this, you have to ‘grow up’ as a 7 and stop allowing fear of commitment or quick loss of focus from dominating your life. You have control over yourself, you are not utterly helpless to your whims (said the Fi user who has a moral tone of ‘you make your own choices and messes and you have to get out of them’ ;).

7s have to learn to be open to the scary idea of commitment to reap the dividends of hard work.

Read the 7 profile and see how allowing yourself to ‘run away’ from commitment (which includes not finishing or devoting yourself to any project) can hinder your life. Once you recognize WHAT you are doing, and WHY you are doing it, you can develop the power to STOP YOURSELF from doing it, or from allowing ‘excuses’ or fear to run you away from good things.

ENTP Mod. : Charity is right. Here is also where the judging functions come into play. With Fi, you can eventually weed out that which you aren't personally passionate about/ those goals which don't align with your personal values. With Ti, you can see a chain reaction of the patterns in your life, and determine the most effective path to help yourself using logic to streamline your processes, make it more elegant.

Slow the hell down. Force yourself to stop running toward the future and live right now. Repeat the mantra of ‘right now is all that matters today’ a 100 times an hour if you have to. Be present. Be invested. Bring yourself into ‘now.’

My co-mod is a 7w6 ENTP who suffers from a lot of the same issues; I will nudge her to offer her two cents to this post, in regards as to what she is currently doing about it. Basically, she had to talk herself into getting a permanent job rather than talking herself out of it. Once she got into it, she realized it didn’t suck as much as she feared. Her brain is her own worst enemy.

I had to talk myself into this job. I gave myself lots of reasons why I would love it. It might sound a little unrealistic going in with pre set expectations but at least you will not go in blind. Making a pros cons list is always a good idea. It helps to sift through your multiple ideas, and narrow down the ones which can really work. Test out the feasibility of your ideas, opportunities before hand. Talk to people, do your research. Just remember that things will never be as bad or boring as you think them to be. This is a cliche but something which helps me in the mornings when I know I have boring work to do is "Get up, dress up, show up. Never give up." Also it helps to live from day to day. Don't worry too far into the future, you never know what variables might upset your plans.

Work-wise, a 7 needs to travel, get the ‘high’ of meeting new people, and not to be involved in sheer detail-driven grunt work. They need challenges to work toward and obstacles to overcome. Pick a career that offers you all of that. If you do not, you will have a string of 6 months at ___ jobs that do not look good on your resume. Find a career in something that you feel passionate about, that offers some kind of mental stimulation.

ENTP 7 co-mod is an attorney who loves to find ways to ‘get around things’ in the law.

ENTP Mod. note: Always try to remember the root of your passion when you feel like defecting from one option to another. If you must leave, leverage what you have learned in one place and how you can dress that up to make your hopping about look good. That's what I did, and it worked for me. Some of the reasons I love my job are the constant intellectual stimulation, creative aspects of it, my love for criminology pays off, meeting interesting people. Sure there are sucky days when you have to deal with the bureaucratic demons. But that won't be every day. Unless your role requires you to do something like it. In which case I would suggest that you avoid picking up detail heavy, low Si or adherence related work which will make you feel miserable and frustrated. Try to pick something that plays to your strengths, improve your weaknesses. Compete with nobody but yourself. Every day you are better than you were, yesterday. Even with a little effort. It is important to not give up. It is so hard for 7s but we have the gift of rationalizing. So instead of using it as a mechanism to justify dropping things, use it to tell yourself why you should stick around. You as a 7 can make most things fun. So find little tricks and ways to make the work day fun. Whether it is achieving small, impactful targets or making games out of small, low stakes things. Also, having money and being able to live nicely is fun. Nobody is gonna pay you if they think that their money will be wasted on training you if your pattern is just leaving jobs. It took me a long time to develop this perspective but I am glad I did.

I (ENFP 6w5 sp/so) chose a career in magazine editing, because it gives me time to do what I actually love, which is write novels. I’m afraid I can’t give you advice from my own life that would work for you, because a 6w5 sp/so is far more focused and driven to finish their projects than a 7w6, which means I push through ‘the boring, tedious bits’ of projects regardless of how ‘excited’ I am. It’s not fun to edit a book 7 times, but I still do it. I force myself to show up to work, to sit there for 3 or 4 hours, and commit to X amount of words, pages, etc.

Do you think it’s “fun” for me always to keep this queue stocked, or to type up characters at the end of a long day because the queue is low? Or go back and update old profiles and move them from this blog onto wordpress? No. I hate it sometimes. It’s boring as hell. But I committed to it, I will see it through, even though looking into my “to update” folder makes me want to scream. I tackle huge projects one step at a time. I’m disciplined but I can procrastinate at work, rather than doing whatever needs doing.

Which really is the bottom line. You want to finish things? Just do them. Force yourself to show up and do the work, even if it’s “boring.” Most of life isn’t fun. Paying the bills isn’t fun. You do boring stuff to make a living, so you can have the money to do fun things. If you do not learn to do it, whether or not it is fun, you will wind up ‘stuck at home this month, because I have no money.’

That frustrates a 7 even more than being bored at work.

Accept that your fear of commitment is a fear-driven lie.

You are not going to get trapped by committing to something or someone. Head types massively over-think things and allow fear – in the 7’s case of “missing out” on better things – to dominate their life. Admit it’s fear. Admit that allowing fear to ruin your entire life is stupid. Then do something against the fear. Do the thing fear tells you not to: commit and work at it. Fight the urge every day to leave. Stick it out, and prove you ‘can’ to yourself.

Middle functions. You’re in college so you should be seeing either some Ti analyzing or Te “buckle down and set goals and get this schoolwork finished by the deadline” kicking in. Are you more inclined to self-doubt and beat yourself up like a young FiTe user after ‘failing’ to organize your time efficiently or to make excuses and blame external circumstances like a young TiFe user?

My Fi has always been strongly evident, though I didn’t know what it was at the time. Things that set off a NOPE response in me vs. the ‘rest of everything, which I don’t care about.’ The intense sensitivity as a child. The compassion for other people and especially for small animals. The understanding of emotional dynamics and how people ‘feel.’ The constant angst between caring too much about people’s feelings and being low Te blunt or rude when I’m having an off day. The ‘going away from everyone’ to deal with my feelings in private. I have always fiercely, Fi-ishly known what I like and do not like, and have no ability to ‘tolerate’ things that I do not like. Once, I didn’t like half the people seated at my table at a public event, so I shut down completely and did not say a word to anyone at the table for two hours. My Fe friend also hated them, but smiled and charmed them all. Lucky girl. She can fake her feelings. I can’t.

- ENFP Mod

[forever-rogue]

Supercut - Part X

Summary: Roger didn’t know how good he had it when Y/N was his. But when Y/N became Deacy’s, he realized he had messed up.

A/N: Umm, hi, so it’s been a while, huh? Sorry this took five hundred years to update, but I hope you enjoy! No need to worry, it wasn’t abandoned! Taglists are open! xx

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader (former), John Deacon x Reader (current)

Warnings: infidelity, language

Word Count: 4.1k

Note - this is still in the past.

MASTERLIST

“John,” she pulled back quietly, looking into his bright eyes, “I need you.”

He had asked no questions, but pulled her inside, wrapping his arms around and holding onto her like it was his only job in life. John held her as Y/N sobbed silently into his shoulders for what seemed like an eternity. He didn't mind though, he'd do anything for her after all.

She had remained silent, not speaking a word. The only sounds that came from her were little whimpers that emanated from her mouth in between her tears. He didn't push her to speak, instead just holding her, rubbing a hand soothingly up and down her back, quietly singing in her ear. It was an unfamiliar melody, a little something he had likely composed only for himself, but it was so pleasant and gentle, it slowly made her heart feel lighter.

After a while, she quieted down, seemingly all out of tears, as she laid on the couch, wrapped in a big blanket that John had gotten for her. She had buried her face in it and clung onto it tightly, comforted by his familiar smell which held onto the fibers of the fabric. Mascara tears had dried on her face and her lipstick was smudged, but to him she looked just as beautiful as ever. It only hurt his heart that was so upset about whatever it was.

Once her breathing had evened out and her eyes had closed as she gave into the sweet, saccharine embrace of slumber, he got up and busied himself with making hot chocolate. Hot chocolate had always been her favorite pick me up and she looked like she could use it desperately.

There was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that this was somehow related to Roger, but couldn't be sure. He had made it a conscious decision to remain out of their affairs, knowing it would break his heart even more. He didn't blame anyone but himself though; he had waited to make a move on Y/N and the opportunity had passed. That was the reality of things, hard as it was to accept it.

He let out an inadvertent sigh as he pulled the whip cream from the fridge and topped off the mugs of the warm, delicious drink. Y/N had been as aloof as ever, making her way silently into the kitchen, cocooned under the blanket.

“That’s a big sigh coming from you, Deacy,” she croaked out, her throat dry from all the crying she had done. She had startled him so, causing him to jolt back slightly, a hand flying to his heart. For the first that evening, she let out a small laugh at his reaction, taking a hand and resting it gently onto his shoulder, “I’m so sorry! I thought you heard me get up and walk over!”

“No, you’re too quiet! You’re like a stealthy ninja,” his eyes were wide as his heart started to calm down. He sincerely hoped that he had been silent while messing about in the kitchen and hadn’t accidentally let his worlds roll off of his tongue in his anger and kept them in his head.

“A stealthy ninja?” she chuckled as she took one of the mugs off the counter, wrapping her hands tightly around it, hoping the heat would sink into her bones. Although wrapped in a large, cozy blanket, she still felt cold and numb. He nodded at her, giving her a small half smile as he grabbed his own mug and clinked it against hers before taking a long sip, “thank you for everything.”

“It’s just hot chocolate,” he shrugged, not quite sure why it was such a big deal. But she shook her head, looking at him with a mixture softness and hesitation etched onto her face.

“It’s not just the hot chocolate,” she admitted, taking a drink and promptly getting whipped all over her nose. He grinned at her, that same slightly gap toothed smile she had known for so many years now, before reaching up and wiping the sweet cream off and licking off of his finger. She watched him silently for a few moments, swallowing the lump that had appeared in her throat. It was such a simple gesture, but it still made her stomach flutter, “it’s everything. Always being here for me, no matter what. You’re the one I can always count, Deacy, and I’ve never forgotten that.”

“You’re my best friend, Y/N,” he smiled fondly at her, a light wash of pink creeping up into his cheeks, “I-I-I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

“I know,” she admitted, and a long pause hung in the air. It wasn’t tense or awkward, but it filled with unanswered questions and years of repressed feelings. But neither of them could bring themselves to address it. Instead, the two of them stood there, watching each other intently, both of their hearts beating wildly, unbeknownst to the other, “thank you.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? What’s happened?” he asked quietly, a sort of timid quality to his voice. There was the shy, nervous boy she had grown up with, “are you okay? Please just tell me that much.”

“I don’t know if I can talk about it yet,” she confessed, hanging her head slightly. It was hard, admitting that Roger had cheated on her not once but twice. He had begged her so desperately to take him back, pledging his love and promising her he’d never do it. And she had eaten it right up, relishing in the lavish ways he tried to spoil her and win her back over. Only to do it again, “but am I okay? No. I’m very not okay.”

“I-is it Roger?” he dared to ask, deciding to throw caution out the door. He was her best friend after all - if something bad was happening, he wanted to know what it was so he could help. Her jaw tensed for a moment, a dead give away that he had struck a nerve. It was clear to him that she was struggling with something, but wasn’t able to find the right words. Or perhaps she just didn’t want to tell him.

“I....” she paused, trying around the kitchen, looking at anything and everything but John. She had a nagging feeling in her stomach that she would break down completely if she gazed into his soft hazel eyes, “it’s me. It’s just me being silly.”

“You?” he parroted, not quite believing the words that came out of her mouth. She gave him a weak shrug as if to say yes, and John wrestled with the decision of whether or not to push for more answers. When it came to her and Roger’s relationship, he had no doubt that it was Roger that would be starting things over her, “you’re sure?”

“Yes,” she lied through gritted teeth, trying her very best to keep herself together. She abhorred lying to her best friend, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit that everyone had been right about Roger and she had fallen into his trap. Thinking back to the day she had agreed to go out with him, she closed her eyes and wished she hadn’t given in. She should have listened to her gut and never given in.

“Can I inquire as to what it is that you did that had you coming to my door and crying in the middle of the night? I hate to see you like this, love bug, it breaks my heart,” his voice was a bit shaky as he put a hand on her cheek, his thumb running gently over her cheek. She subconsciously leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his rough, yet somehow soft, fingers on her delicate skin. Maybe it should have been him, she thought to herself.

“No...I’m sorry, I can’t,” she said quietly, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her as he pulled away, tutting at her slightly. She used to be so open and free with him, but ever since she had started dating Roger, she had become increasingly closed off to him. Whether it was by choice or by accident he didn’t know, but he knew he missed how things used to be. How he wished he had kissed her that day. How his heart ached at the thought of her going to bed with Roger. It should have been him.

“Please talk to me,” he was almost desperate at this point, and if he thought that getting on his knees and begging would change her mind, he would have done it in a heartbeat. But she seemed unmoved, keeping her inner turmoil to herself, “Y/N, you used to tell me everything, now you won’t even tell what’s going on? I only want to help you, you know.”

“I should go...” she set the mug on the counter, and stepped back, wondering if she was making the right decision. Should she stay or go? It was a weird sense of inner conflict: a part of her wanted desperately to stay, the other part wanted to go and crawl into bed and cry. She wanted to stay and be held by his strong arms, but she also wanted to be all alone and wallow in self pity and misery.

“Please don’t leave,” he knew her mind was made up as she took the blanket from her around her shoulders and held it out to him. He gingerly took it from her, and she chanced a half smile at him. He didn’t reciprocate the gesture but took the blanket from her in an almost robotic fashion, throwing into on the counter next to the forgotten mugs.

She remained silent, sensing a quiet anger, which was really more annoyance than anything else, as she started to walk towards the door. Normally, he would have gone after her, not letting her just walk away without another. When she reached the door, she took a last look at John, whose eyes were locked onto her, in an intense manner.

“I love you,” she said quietly before turning the knob in her hand. Had she meant it to be a declaration of her love? Was it a statement that they already knew to be true? Or was it a friend stating a fact to another friend? She wasn’t sure herself, but it didn’t help her heart when he remained stoic and didn’t repeat the words to her.

“I know,” he finally said after a long moment. She bit her lip, and gave him a curt nod before opening the door and slipping out into the darkness of the evening. It was the first that he hadn’t said the words back to her, and it felt like a small dagger had been plunged into her heart, twisting and turning due to her own actions. Perhaps it was her own fault, perhaps it was a combination of things. But she knew that if John Deacon was no longer a part of her life, that would be the end of her.

A loud pounding came at her door, startling her out of her slumber. Yawning, she rolled over and glanced at the alarm on her bedside table. It was already nearing noon, meaning she had slept the morning away. Once she had gotten home from John’s, she had curled up in bed and cried herself to sleep. Praying that whoever it was would take the hint and leave, she pulled the covers over her head and tried to lull herself back to sleep.

The loud sounds ceased after a few more moments and she let out a small sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, the sense of sleepy heaviness sunk back into her bones, and the world seemed distant again until -

“Y/N,” his voice reached her ears like a shot and she was unsure if she could feign sleep and remain under the covers or if she should face him. He had been quiet as he came in, smartly utilizing the key she had given him. She wasn’t ready to do this, not now - it was too soon and raw and fresh. But it appeared she’d just have to deal with it. When Roger wanted something, he wouldn’t take no for an answer. That’s how he had gotten her to agree to go on a date with in the first place.

Remaining motionless, she bit her lip and hoped he would just leave. Letting out a sigh, he walked over to her side of the bed, and put a hand on her gently, shaking her ever so slightly, “come on love, I know you’re awake.”

Jerking out of his touch once her facade had dissipated, she removed the covers from her face and stared at him incredulously. He had the audacity to just show up at her house and demand to speak to her - typical Roger. 

“Get out Roger. I’m not doing this with you right now,” she spat at him, taking a moment to look him over. He looked as disheveled and out of it as she felt, his wild hair at all angles, his eyes bloodshot, and lips dry and cracked, “you’ve got a lot of nerve just coming in here, you know!”

“Please, please, please, just give me a chance to explain,” he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand. She pulled away and scooted to the other side of the bed in the vain attempt to keep him at bay.

“How dare you, Roger? You think you can just show up after the stunt you pulled last night? I don’t even know how to being to describe how angry I am,” she folded her arms over her chest, narrowing her eyes at him, “but even more so, I’m hurt and heartbroken. You broke my heart, Rog. Twice.”

“And I don’t know how to begin to apologize or beg for your forgiveness,” he confessed, playing with the corner of the blanket, twisting it in his hand, “but I am so, so sorry, my love. It didn’t mean anything, I swear. It was all a mistake. A few moments of indiscretion.”

“You don’t have sex with someone by mistake, Roger. There are active steps you have to take in order to get to that point. Even if you had been drinking - you chose to drink. You chose to get drunk enough to chat up another woman and take her to bed,” she sighed and ran an exasperated hand through her tangled hair, “you chose to do this. Twice.”

“I’m so sorry,” he choked out, trying to not let the images of last night flood through his mind. He had known it was wrong, and a part of his brain had been nagging him the entire time telling  him to stop what he was doing; but he hadn’t. Instead, it had all blown up in his face, and now there was major fall out to deal with.

“You’re sorry?” she almost laughed at him, “tell me, Rog, how would it have felt if you had been in my shoes? How would you have felt coming home after being gone for the weekend for work and found me having sex with another man. How would that make you feel?”

“Like shit, absolute shit,” he said after a few moments of silence so tense and thick you could have cut it with a knife. If the roles had been reversed, he would have been livid and probably would have tried to kill the guy.

“Would you still trust me?” she posed the theoretical question, “could you like me in the eyes and tell me that you trusted me still? Even if I said I was just drunk?”

“I-it’d be very hard,” he felt like he was confessing his sins and digging his own grave deeper and deeper.

“Now imagine if it had happened twice,” Y/N could tell see was getting to him because his answers become more silent and he hung his head like a child that was being scolded, “imagine it happening twice and getting bullshit excuses in response. How would that make you feel?”

“I-I’d feel like absolute shit and I don’t know if I could ever trust you again,” he was almost angry as he said the words that she had wanted to hear. She  wanted him to know exactly how it felt - the heartache he had imposed on her multiple times, “is that what you wanted to hear, Y/N? Does that make you feel better?”

“No, it doesn’t! Because you’re just saying the words, meanwhile those words have become my reality, Roger. The first time you cheated, I felt like I wasn’t good enough - why would my boyfriend feel the need to have sex with another woman?” she crawled out of the bed and stood at the end, staring him down, “but you insisted you loved me and it didn’t mean anything. Okay, yeah, I was hesitant, but convinced myself that you did love.”

“I do love you, Y/N, truly-”

“Then act like it!” she shouted at him, causing him to pause for a moment. It was one of the first time she had ever raised her voice like this. For all the things she was, she was still a calm and gentle soul, and often shied away from confrontation if possible. But not today - she had had enough, “act like you respect and love if you truly mean it. It’s not that hard, Roger. I asked you, repeatedly for one thing, and one thing only. Do you even remember what that was?”

“To stay faithful to you,” he said quietly, shocked into obedient silence as she took control of the conversation, “and if I want to sleep around to break up with you.”

“Look at you, you’re right on the money,” she tapped the tip of her nose to emphasize her point, “Roger, listen to me. I love you, I do, truly. No matter what dumb stuff you do or say, a piece of my heart belongs to you.”

“You have my heart, baby girl, all of it,” he insisted, trying his best to get her to understand that it was true. His infidelity hadn’t come out of not loving her.

Over the years he had gotten used to a certain lifestyle, getting whatever he wanted handed to him on a silver platter. And it was hard to say no to a beautiful woman offering herself up to him, promising him everything he could want, even if it was only for a night. He knew it was wrong, but it was so much harder to say no, especially as the alcohol coursed through his veins, consuming his senses and clouding his mind. He was Roger Taylor after all, a man of wealth, status, and many desires - and that included beautiful woman. Sure, he didn’t love those women, and he wasn’t lying when he told Y/N that he loved her. But he also loved the company of other beautiful women.

“It doesn’t feel like, Roger, it feels like the opposite,” she replied as he slowly walked over to her, taking trepid steps so she wouldn’t flee out of his touch, “it feels like you just keep me around to for convenience. If that’s all I am to you, then please let me know and we can end this now.”

“You’re so wrong about that,” he whispered quietly as he closed the distance between so they were looking directly at each other, their chests rising and falling rapidly, “I love you more than you could ever know. I don’t want anyone else but you, Y/N. You’re the love of my life.”

“Then why did you do it?” she asked, feeling her bottom lip start to tremble as she did her best to hold back her tears. Here was this beautiful man standing in front of her, telling her he loved her, but it seemed forced and hollow. She was sure a part him did love her, when things were good they were incredible, and she knew some sort of feelings had to be there, “am I not good enough for you? Is there something they give you that I can’t?”

“No,” he whispered, reaching up gently and ghosting his fingers along her jawline. His touch was so different from John’s, a contrast from the calloused fingers to his soft pads. She wasn’t sure which she preferred in that moment, “you’re everything.”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me?” she pouted at him, leaving a few tears spill down her cheeks, her voice suddenly small. His mouth twitched slightly as he wiped away her warm, salty tears. He felt his own heart breaking at her reaction and wished he could take it back. He wished he had never even laid eyes on those other woman.

“I’m sorry, love, I’m so, so, sorry. My words will never be able to properly convey how I feel,” he tried to reassure her, gently putting his hands on the sides of her face, “I never meant to hurt you. I’m a fool, a drunken fool. I drank too much and let it get the best of me. But it’ll never happen again.”

“How? How can I trust you again?” she leaned into his touch, eyes gazing into his, “are you just never going to drink again?”

“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed, bringing his face closer and closer to hers. Her strong resolve had melted away and fast. Roger knew exactly how to get her - sweet words and promises of reassurances, “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”

“P-please don’t ever, ever break my heart again,” it was a plea, a small pathetic one, but she held onto the hope that he would agree and never do anything bad to her again. She wanted to love him and be loved by him, “I don’t know how much more I can take. I don’t know why I’m giving you another chance.”

‘Because I love you and you love me,” he stated, tracing a finger softly along her lips, “and that will never change. I’m an idiot, but you make me want to be a better man. I want to be better for you. I want us to always be together.”

“Do you mean it? Truly?” she looked at him with wide doe eyes, the knot in her stomach coiling and uncoiling itself throughout the conversation, “if you don’t mean it, then walk out the door right now and ever look back.”

“Truly,”  his lips were mere millimeters from hers, his warm, sweet breath fanning over her face, “I’m not walking out that door. I’m here and I want you and only you. This will never happen again.”

“If it does, I will never, ever speak to you again. Am I being clear?’ she asked quietly, and he nodded gently before closing the little bit of remaining gap and pressing his lips against hers.

It was a bit awkward at first, her salty tears mixed in as his hands moved to her waist and she snaked hers around his neck, carding a hand through his hair. They quickly found their rhythm, mouths moving in sync, a few moans escaping from both of them. It was the same as it always was, but it felt different today. Wrong almost, a hollow version of the passion that their kisses normally contained.

Her mind was racing with a million different thoughts; thoughts of worry, excitement, nervousness, and John. For some reason, and deep down in her heart of hearts, she knew exactly why her thoughts always went back to him. 

Because it should have been him.

“I love you, baby girl,” he whispered in her ear before kissing along her jawline, his grip on her hips firm and taught, “I love you so much.”

Biting her lip, she hesitated for a moment before responding, “I love you too.”

“I’ll never hurt you again,” it didn’t seem like a lie in that moment, it felt like a real promise. She wanted noting more than to believe his words and treasure them. She wanted him to love her unconditionally, and to love him just as much.

What was to come was unbeknownst to her, but in that moment nothing mattered but her and Roger. In that moment their love, however strong it was, was the only thing that mattered.

“Let me show you how much I love,” he whispered, looking at her for the sign to go ahead. Pausing, wondering if this was the right decision for just a fraction of time, she pushed the worry to the back of her head nodded.

“Love me, Roger, that’s all I ever wanted from you,” she whispered as he started to play with the hem of her shirt, “please just love me.”

“I love you, Y/N, more than you ever know,” he stated before pulling her shirt over her head and tossing it to the side. He lips found hers and he kissed her feverishly, pushing her back down on the bed, “I’ll never do anything to hurt you again. I swear.”

Permanent Taglist: @ruinerofcheese @courtneychicken  @santa-crew@supernatural508 @ssweet-empowerment@nerissa98@jamesbarnesappreciationsociety@buckybarnesappreciationsociety@wearegoldeninthenight@mannatgalhotra @prxttybirdz @piensa-bonito @mightyhemsworthy@shewalksinanotherworld @jems8241@bookaddic @fairyxxfighter@asguardiansoftheavengers @esoltis280@the-bright-lights@artisticlales @loislp @dixonsbugaboo@sleepylunarwolf @patzammit@thisismysecrethappyplace @princess-evans-addict @bookgirlunicorn@makapaka11 @bornfortherainydays@avipshamitra @clumsy-clara @justanewqueensfan@yourealegendroger @anna1523@queenficarchive@thesecondlastjedi@bitemerog @rogernroll@secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @dinkiplier @deacontaylormercurymay @starrystarrybabe @nicholasbich @musical-prostitute-my-dear @onexlittlespark @benhardyseyes @marvelstuck @thickthighsandbasicbrowneyes @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @wonderwich

Supercut Taglist: @peachypink98 @i-ship-it-ironically @queenficarchive @hesvoid34 @fixedonroger @ma-ntequilla @eagleandthebutterfly @richiethotzierz @subtleperfectionist @wonderfullyridiculous @obsessedwithrogertaylor  @perriwiinkle @mjsholland @bitemerog @screaminggalileochickenwrites @eloquentsunflowers @majorlyextra @jennycidesstuff @deakysgirl  

[ittakesrain]

Psycho Education

Psycho Education: Things I Learned in the Psychiatric Hospital

I knew I needed to be hospitalized. I’ve known that for a while. Hell, I tried to get myself into a hospital prior to this, because I was desperate for some relief, and nothing happened. I guess it all accumulated for the past year or so, though. I went to my psychiatrist for a normal appointment on February 10th, and she sent me to the ER like, immediately. She actually called them and told them I’d be coming (I felt like such a VIP: very important psycho). My boyfriend left work early and picked me up and we went. And thus began an interesting journey where I learned a bunch of things that I’m going to explain in a vaguely chronological but unimportant order. This doesn’t include everything, and I have so many more thoughts that I’m dying to get onto a page, but I think it’s important that my first post is positive and talks about the last month as a learning experience.

I was in the ER for a day and a half. It was an overwhelming experience. I was crying a lot, and I just wanted to lay there on the gurney under the sheets and be “alone.” But I was on Constant Observation (since I was suicidal) and had someone watching me at all times. And apparently I couldn’t go completely under the covers because they had to see that I wasn’t killing myself under there. So I was basically inconsolable.

I hated the guy watching me, at first. He would ask questions and I’d try to answer, but I’d just start crying at the fact that I didn’t think he understood what I was actually experiencing. How much pain I was in. Like…was he belittling me? I couldn’t tell.

I came around to him eventually. I don’t know when, exactly. Maybe after he went on his break. The nurse manager watched me while he was gone, and she was really nice. We talked a little bit, and maybe that little bit where I was broken out of my shell helped me not feel so upset with Charles who had to sit there and stare at me. Not that he was creepy; he wasn’t. He was cool. It was just a hard situation, and I was emotional and all over the place. I realized that seeking comfort is okay and even brave at times, but at the end of the day, when no one else can do it you have to do it yourself. I was lying there, tossing and turning, my mind racing, all of my painfully confused…and I had to just calm myself down. I’m not saying I was successful at that (I wasn’t). But the lesson stuck with me. I asked for help, and I’m proud that I did. But I also learned that I can’t get help with everything. I can’t have someone help me control my emotions, it doesn’t work that way.

Charles and I eventually got into conversation, and he imparted a gem of wisdom that totally relates and that I wrote down as soon as I had a notebook in which to do so: no one can swim for you and no one can breathe for you. I couldn’t tell you what the hell we were talking about (I’m assuming it was the impending hospitalization ahead of me), but it’s true. The coming weeks were something I was gonna have to face on my own.

Yeah, definitely true. Although once I got to the psych hospital, I wasn’t completely on my own. I made friends almost immediately (once I stopped crying, showered for the first time in three days, and actually consumed some sort of food). I guess there’s nothing quite like being locked up together to bring about friendships. It also probably helps that we were all in a similar place mentally and emotionally. We related to one another. We grew into a weird little dysfunctional family.

And dysfunctional we indeed were. Lock a bunch of crazies up together and shit DOES get intense. I realized pretty early on that sometimes it’s best to just walk away. Walk away from a fight or confrontation, walk away from a trigger. Hell, sometimes you even need to walk away from someone crying who just needs to cry. I loved when the other patients there calmed me down as I was crying. A fist-bump and a sneaky hug go a long way (we weren’t technically allowed to touch each other). But there were moments I just needed to cry. And I saw the same being true of other people.

We were a unique bunch.  It became increasingly clear to me why you should never judge anyone without talking to them first. Like, everyone has their own shit. You literally never know someone’s story without asking them. And human beings are interesting, so ask! Listen to everyone’s story and learn from them, because my god is there so much to learn. Not to mention that people are all complicated, with or without mental illness. We’re all just different. It’s fascinating.

I sat down next to the schizophrenic who needed to be restrained and sedated the day before and actually talked to him. I was happy I did because he’s got a lot of wisdom inside of him next to all his fear. We sat there on the floor outside the med window after each taking our cocktail of pills, and started talking. The day after that was not one of my better ones. And he was the one to sit down next to me. “Hey,” he said. “Put out your hands like this.” I wiped my tears and looked up at him. I held out my hands in front of me. “Do you see them?” he asked, to which I responded with a tentative ‘yes.’ “See? You’re here, you’re safe, you’re okay.” I used that technique to ground myself a few more times after that.

I can’t talk about lessons learned in the psych hospital without mentioning how I learned to be thankful in a simple but grand way. I vowed that when I got out I’d stop taking day to day conveniences for granted. My phone and my laptop are wonderful tools I have, and I’ll never again forget how fucking cool they are. I was, however, already thankful for the support I am lucky enough to have. Every morning we had a “community meeting” where we told everyone how we were feeling, what our goal was for the day, and who our support was. I never once forgot how special the people around me are that they love and support me as much as they do.

Then there’s the lesson I’m continually re-learning: let it go. I really tried to tone down my reactions to minor little things while I was there. Like, I put serious effort into it. There were a few instances in the beginning when I was uhh…using humor as a coping mechanism, and it wasn’t received well by some of the staff. So I was told to stop. Which, okay, that’s fine, right? It is, and looking back I realize it right away now. But my general response is to feel stupid and dumb and dwell on the situation for far too long and then feel stupid again and just continue on and on. But I’m actually damn proud of how I let it go because I literally forgot about how angry I was at that staff member until just now. We turned out to be chill with each other anyway, and I’m glad we turned out that way because I feel happy to have known the guy. But yeah, I’m giving myself major props for that one, and I’m gonna remember this exact paragraph next time I go to overthink about something like that. I also want to phrase it differently, in case I didn’t make my point as effectively as I wanted to: don’t worry so much about what’s going on in other people’s heads, because you don’t have to live there.

As I got more stable (I’m gonna write a whole post about how that was able to happen to begin with, because holy shit was it a process), I started to get the itch to get the fuck out of there. I wanted to go home. I was naturally going stir-crazy, as you can imagine would happen after being cooped up for over two weeks, and I was even getting anxious wondering when they were gonna release me. I was tentatively scheduled to be discharged Tuesday the 25th, but on morning on the day before, I’d just about lost my mind wondering if that date was still set. The weekends went slow there, and no doctors or social workers were there, so I was left hanging and wondering. Anyway, as I was freaking out, another patient pulled me aside and told me that in his struggle with drugs, whenever he told himself “just don’t do drugs” every day, he’d inevitably wind up doing them. But “when I told myself I was gonna get up, go for a run, make breakfast, and so on, guess what I did?” I stared at him for a second. “I’m gonna go home tomorrow,” I told him, and he smiled and nodded. The moral of the story, I guess, is either that you attract what you think about, or that it’s easy to spot what you’re always thinking about. And it turns out I did go home the next day!

As I was getting ready to be discharged, I started to reflect back. I’d filled an entire marble notebook with thoughts and feelings, but there was still a lot I wanted to think about. Still a lot I had to think about. I said to the counselors and my social worker that even though I’d done so much work and self-reflection, I knew I still had a lot more work to do once I left. And oh boy is there still a lot of work to do haha. Self-discovery is a never-ending process. I think I used to let that overwhelm me, but honestly? It isn’t such a scary thing. Life is a never-ending process. Self-discovery is just a way of life.

And finally, because I actually do feel hopeful that I’ll succeed in my quest to be the best version of me: remember to have hope.

[courtingstars]

Notes for The Vanishing Prince, Chapter 4

It’s Chapter Four, hurray! This one turned out a little differently than I expected… Mostly because the scene at Rakuzan ended up being so long. But I decided to keep it as is, because I just love Rakuzan’s team SO MUCH. <3

So as promised, this was Rakuzan’s turn to have a cameo (and by cameo I mean a super long scene, with loads of love for the Uncrowned Kings and especially Reo).

Also, I ended up including screenshots from the anime in this post! So if you’re interested in a basic breakdown of my theory about why scenes like this one prove that psychic phenomena were included in the show from the beginning:

Well read on, friend. BECAUSE OH DO I HAVE THEORIES ABOUT THAT.

(Cut for stuff about Rakuzan, a little about why I love the Uncrowned Kings so much, even more love for Reo, a brief explanation of some of the supernatural/psychic references, and a seriously epic yudofu restaurant because tofu is Akashi’s first love, obviously)

On Rakuzan’s Campus

It was fun to try to figure out what Rakuzan as a school would be like… I’ve had a headcanon for a while that each member of the Generation of Miracles chose a high school (and a team) that generally reflected their personality and priorities. So my version of Rakuzan has a lot of Akashi-esque qualities to it. XD

Canonically, Rakuzan is supposed to be a prestigious school that excels in multiple areas. That’s one reason why I included OCs in this chapter, to show that Akashi is far from being the only overachiever at his school. Which, as Furihata realizes, makes his status at the school that much more impressive! (Plus I like to fill out different areas of characters’ lives that we don’t get to see in canon, sometimes by coming up with new characters… I try not to overdo it too much, though, because I know it might only be interesting to me? //laughs)

As a side note, the Rakuzan students are shown preparing for their school’s cultural festival, which is a common event in Japanese schools, and pops up in anime a lot. It frequently involves each class and/or club designing a different booth or event for the festival (like selling food, putting on a play, etc). I’ve read a few series where the festival occurs in late summer to early fall. I don’t know if that’s the typical time of year or not, but that’s why I included the student council working over their vacation to prepare! From what I understand, it’s not uncommon for Japanese students who are really involved in extracurricular activities to continue participating in them over summer vacation (like sports practices, for example).

I Just Really Love The Uncrowned Kings, Okay?

Hopefully I wasn’t the only one looking forward to seeing how Furihata would get along with Rakuzan’s three Uncrowned Kings! I find their canon relationship with Akashi really fascinating, so I wanted to explore some of the implications of it in this chapter. (And then it went on WAYYY longer than I expected. But I was just having too much fun and too many feelings to stop? XD;)

For me, one of the most interesting questions about Rakuzan in KnB is why the other players elected Akashi as captain in his first year… I have a lot of headcanons about it (and a one-shot fic that I started ages ago, that I still really want to finish!). It’s especially interesting because the Uncrowned Kings had a history of competing against the Generation of Miracles in junior high.

So in this chapter, I ended up hinting at some of my theories about why the Kings in particular would decide to make Akashi (and specifically Bokushi!) their leader. I also implied that Akashi wasn’t the only member of Rakuzan who was forced to reevaluate his priorities because of the events of the Winter Cup. (To me this is portrayed really well in the last few episodes, through Reo’s reactions especially.)

Basically, one of the reasons I love Rakuzan so much is because I think of all of them as hyper-competitive people who originally decided to go after victory and focus on dominating the competition, at the cost of everything else… And then were forced to face the consequences of that decision, and realize it was ultimately unfulfilling, at least in part because they came to genuinely value the bonds they’d formed as a team. <3 So I tried to show this in how they explained the situation to Furihata.

… I’m also kind of surprised that I managed to fit in references to all five of the Kings in this chapter? I did not expect that. (And I definitely did not expect how Kiyoshi and Hanamiya would come up in the conversation. //laughs)

Also, I do headcanon Reo as wearing makeup sometimes! I just feel like he would be amazing at it, honestly. (Or maybe I’ve just spent too much time watching beauty gurus on YouTube or something, lol.) In any case, I’m SO HERE for Reo in general… Especially Reo the Love and Sexuality Guru, finally telling it like it really is? //laughs (Oh my god I worked SO MANY self-indulgent headcanons into that silly conversation… Though interestingly enough, Reo flirting with Takao is from some of the anime outtake/bonus scenes. XD So I didn’t make that part up, at least!)

I should probably also mention that some of Furihata’s assumptions/uncertainty about Reo’s identity are related to Japanese culture… In KnB, Reo is depicted as the type of person who would probably be thought of as an “okama,” which usually refers to a gay man who’s also very feminine in their gender expression. (It can also refer to a drag queen, for example.) I think the term was used in the KnB manga, but I wasn’t able to verify that? (And I should also mention that the term itself can be offensive or positive/reclaimed, depending on who uses it.) So gender and sexuality are distinct aspects of a person, but Reo’s choice of self-expression and honorifics, at least to someone who is Japanese, would tend to imply certain things about both. I tried to make that as apparent in the scene as I could, without going into the cultural concept behind it?

(Also a special shout-out to anyone who figured out why Reo asked Furi his date of birth, and why Furi’s answer intrigued him… Because OH HOW I COULD RAMBLE ON AND ON ABOUT THAT.)

On Empaths, Mediums, Clair Senses, and Auras

So for those of you who wanted to see more supernatural stuff in this fic, I really hope you enjoyed Reo’s little conversation with Furi! (I’ve been looking forward to these two finally interacting for SO LONG. I’ve had a million headcanons about them, ever since I wrote that one chapter of Giving Chocolate ages ago… I even hinted at it in several of my other fics, mostly the Christmas ones. XD)

I won’t go into a super-detailed explanation of supernatural abilities here, since the terms I used aren’t culturally specific to Japan, and are pretty easy to research. But since I see Reo as someone who likes to use knowledge from lots of different modalities of the supernatural (like tarot divination, for example), I figured that I would give a quick overview of some of the stuff he mentioned.

An empath is basically someone who is supposed to be able to sense supernatural “energy” in their environment. The idea is that things like a person’s mental health and emotions manifest as energy—in their aura, for example—and empaths can sense this energy and even absorb some of it. (Sometimes to the point that it’s difficult for them to tell the difference between their own feelings and someone else’s.) Empaths can get very overwhelmed and anxious around crowds of people—or a specific person who is emotionally intense or even toxic—for the same reason. Basically, an empath is naturally affected by outside energy, and tends to let that energy in, more than most people. Even though they themselves may not realize it.

A medium, on the other hand, is someone who can connect with spirits, like those of people who have passed on. (I didn’t mention the term in the chapter, but seeing ghosts could potentially fall under this category.) The ability to do this is believed to manifest in a lot of different ways. Some of the possible ways are sometimes called “clair senses.”

“Clair senses” refer to different types of psychic/supernatural perception. The most common term is clairvoyance, which is being able to “see” supernatural phenomena. (From what I understand, it can be literal seeing, or more of a “in your mind’s eye” type of thing.) There are other types of clair senses too, like clairaudience (hearing supernatural things, like a spirit’s voice), and claircognizance (knowing something supernatural, kind of like having a “hunch”).

And finally, an aura is a form of supernatural energy (or light!) that surrounds a person. Some people think it reveals everything from your overall health to your current emotions. (I’ve always been kind of fascinated with the concept, and I even had my aura read for fun once. //laughs) In Chapter Four, we find out that while Akashi’s aura is more or less a single color (red), Furihata’s aura has multiple colors. Believers in auras often claim that the appearance and colors of a person’s aura can tell you a lot about them, and what they’re going through.

So it might seem like a stretch, to be including this stuff in a fic about a basketball anime… But weirdly enough, the canon of Kuroko no Basuke has a lot of intriguing moments that could be interpreted as referring to stuff like auras and clair senses? I could probably ramble on about my theories on this for FOREVER, so instead I’ll just leave a couple of screenshots here:

(Subtitles/translation courtesy of Crunchyroll)

… Yeah. I definitely did not come up with the idea to include this stuff on my own. XD (You can interpret these moments as symbolic too… But I feel like the story actually makes more sense if it’s literal, at least on some level? //laughs)

(Especially since that’s not even counting all the aura-like visuals in the show. And the weird eye stuff. And characters who can apparently predict the future in various ways. AND THE TRIPPY DOOR VISIONS AT THE END. SERIOUSLY DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON THE DOOR VISIONS. Anyway.)

On Platform Dining in Kyoto

I might talk about this in more detail for an upcoming chapter, but yes, the part about dining on platforms in Kyoto in the summer is a real thing! You can find a general overview about it here.

Basically, since it gets so hot and humid in the valley where Kyoto is, some of the restaurants have a tradition of putting up special wooden platforms over the river and serving their customers on them. It’s called “kawayuka” dining when it’s done over the Kamogawa river, inside the city. (An area outside Kyoto called Kibune also participates in the tradition, where this style of dining is called “kawadoko.”)

On the Yudofu Restaurant

Finally, in the longstanding tradition of me doing way too much research about the places in my fics, I did indeed pick out a real place for Akashi’s favorite restaurant!

First off, I should probably mention that yudofu isn’t just Akashi’s favorite food. It’s also one of the most famous regional dishes in Kyoto. (Maybe THE most famous!) Kyoto has a ton of restaurants that specialize in making high-quality tofu, so a boiled tofu dish like yudofu is extremely popular, both with locals and tourists. Yudofu itself was also created in Kyoto, because the monks working in the temples needed vegetarian dishes for their Buddhist diet.

Yudofu is thought to have originated in the area around Nanzenji temple. That being the case, I wanted to choose one of the most traditional, famous restaurants there to be Akashi’s favorite. I had a couple of choices, like this restaurant, which is one of the oldest restaurants in Japan. But in the end, I chose a place called Nanzenji Junsei because the atmosphere of the garden, the ability to reserve a private dining room, and the elaborate set meals all struck me as something Akashi and his family would appreciate. (Plus it seems to be highly rated as well as famous.) You can learn about the history of the restaurant, and see tons of pictures of the buildings, garden, and the food on the absolutely gorgeous official website here.

(Yeah. I want to go there. SO BAD. You can also see more pictures of the restaurant in the TripAdvisor reviews, including more shots of the private dining rooms.)

And while I haven’t been lucky enough to try it in Kyoto, I have made yudofu before! It’s an ultra simple dish that relies on the highest possible quality ingredients. So it’s definitely an appropriate choice for Akashi. (That being said, it does amuse me that his favorite food is basically just, well, tofu cooked in water… Like what teenage guy would say that was his top favorite food EVER? Oh, Akashi. You are such a Kyoto boy. XD)

On a side note, if you want an idea of how old some of the restaurants in Kyoto really are, I thought this article of the top ten oldest restaurants in Japan was interesting! Kyoto still has restaurants in operation that date all the way back to the middle ages.

The city’s culinary fame also inspired a longtime headcanon of mine that the Rakuzan players initially bonded over restaurant hopping… So that’s why that keeps popping up in my fics? //laughs Well, that, and this screenshot from one of the third season endings that literally shows them eating together in a place that looks like a Kibune kawadoko restaurant, and wearing yukata no less:

(Oh Mayu, I miss you, why did you have to graduate before this fic takes place? XD)

(And seriously don’t get me started on the shots of each team from that ending, they’re all adorable with great little geographical/cultural references AND I CAN’T)

Well, that’s it for my notes! I have a draft of the next chapter completed, and while my goal is to work ahead in the story first, I hope to be posting it very soon. (I don’t want to give too much away, but I will say… IT’S A TRIP.) I’ll also be sharing my Pinterest board for the fic then, so if you enjoyed the ones for Storming the Castle, that’s coming up!