#I don’t feel like any of us are really in a relevant position

[socra-time]

Alright, here it is: the Konoha clan headcanons masterpost!

*well, it’s the non-story-relevant Konoha clans. I have a feeling I’ll learn more about the Uchihas and Uzumakis a little further into the show, so I’m holding off on making hcs for them for now.

**also I wanna hear other ppl’s clan headcanons so drop yours in the comments/tags👀

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ABURAME CLAN HCS

General:

-any clan-born Aburame is technically eligible to become clan head and may challenge the current clan leader for the position if they so desire (otherwise, clan heirs are based on the current leader’s bloodline). A formal voting process is then carried out among all clan-born adults to determine who will lead, making the Aburame clan Konoha’s most prominent democratic clan (of which there are very few)

-however, they hardly ever actually have a change in power due to general contentment with how things are run: usually, the only reasons for a change in power to a new bloodline within the clan are the old leader’s bloodline ending or their blood relatives refusing the position. In general, political infighting among the Aburame is very rare

-they’re well-respected for their strength and usefulness, but other clans don’t make it a habit to socialize with them. As it stands, the Aburame don’t really have many notable relationships with other clans. Their closest relationship is actually with the Yamanaka clan: the Yamanaka respect the Aburame’s non-talkative ways, the Aburame have helped the Yamanaka with growing their flowers, and both clans have a sizeable presence in both the Torture and Interrogation unit and the Intelligence unit

-not many outsiders marry into the clan: this, coupled with the clan’s low birth rates, means that the Aburame are one of the smallest of Konoha’s major clans

-the Aburame seem closed-off, but they actually have a very communal culture where almost everything is shared. They also live in large complexes instead of single-family homes

-the clan culture values uniformity, which is why Aburames do not tend to show much outward emotion

-because of their unique physiology, sick or hurt Aburames are often tended to by Aburame doctors

-Aburames who have a very close relationship with each other often can recognize the unique buzzing of each other’s insects

-Aburames tend to like very bland food, and they tend to avoid spicy foods and alcohol because it agitates their insects

Traits:

-Aburame clan members wear dark glasses because their eyes are very light-sensitive

-their eyes are black and have no pupils, and the irises have an unusual hexagonal pattern

-Aburames tend to have somewhat poor vision. They sometimes use their insects to help them see

-Aburames are naturally susceptible to extreme temperatures

Attire:

-as insect hosts, Aburames value preserving their bodies’ natural states and thus do not engage in any form of body modification like tattoos or piercings

-the Aburame have much simpler traditional clothing than most other clans, but each member does have a special scarf to wear during formal events. The scarves are made from silk that can only be produced by a silkworm colony that is tended to at the center of the Aburame compound

-the coats that Aburame members wear for shinobi duties are made out of special thermal-regulating fabric

-the Aburame favor plain, simple, and uniform clothing. The only jewelry they wear are beaded charms that are worn either around someone’s neck or hanging from their glasses

Events:

-clan funerals are the only events where Aburames are expected to take their glasses off. They do this as a sign of respect for the dead

-Aburame weddings are very private. The only people who attend them are the immediate families of the people getting married

HYUGA CLAN HCS

General:

-the Hyuga clan is the most picky about other clan members marrying into their clan and usually do not allow for civilians to marry into the clan at all

-the Hyuga and Nara clans (and the Uchiha clan when it was still around) are the only major clans that do not allow divorce

-overzealous Hyuga children are told that using their Byakugan too much will cause them to develop wrinkles (it’s not true, but it’s effective in encouraging restraint)

-Hyugas are big fans of the arts. Many clan members are taught how to play flutes or stringed instruments from a young age, and it’s practically mandatory within the clan to practice calligraphy

-Hyuga shinobi practice meditation often, particularly “body scan” types of mediation that they use to get in touch with their chakra system

-extreme pain/discomfort and even extreme emotions can make someone unconsciously activate their Byakugan. This is especially true for younger Hyugas, as they have less training and experience using their Byakugan and thus may accidentally activate it while doing something like eating really spicy food or stubbing their toe

-overuse of the Byakugan causes itchiness and facial discomfort. The Hyuga have developed a special balm to help with this

Traits:

-most Hyugas are colorblind to varying degrees

-the gene for the Byakugan is extremely strong. All Hyugas born to two Hyuga parents have it, and even those with mixed heritage are very likely to inherit it

-Hyuga eyes reflect light

Attire:

-Hyugas are very proud of their eyes, and it’s the clan beauty standard for women to accentuate their eyes with makeup when they get dressed-up for events

-traditional Hyuga robes are very simple and are similar between the main house and branch house, but main house robes have more dramatic sleeves. Main house members also wear purple sashes: women wear them around their arms, and men wear them around their waists

-it’s tradition for Hyugas within the clan leader’s bloodline to wear their hair long as a mark of their status (though others are allowed to do so as well)

-Hyugas wear ceremonial hairpins at important clan events

-Branch house members wear headbands to cover their seals

Events:

-on the last day of the year, the Hyuga hold a remembrance ceremony to honor their ancestors. This involves lighting incense at the Hyuga burial shrine, a period of prayer to the ancestors, and a feast at the end

-the continuation of the clan leader’s bloodline is considered to be extremely important. As such, there is a big celebration each time a child of the clan leader is born. The clan heir’s birthday is also celebrated throughout the clan when they turn 3 and again when they turn 16

INUZUKA CLAN HCS

General:

-the Inuzuka are a purely matriarchal clan (and the most prominent of the few matriarchal clans in Konoha, since the other matriarchal clans are smaller and less powerful)

-they’re highly uninvolved with politics compared to other clans of their standing (in the past, part of this was because of misogynistic political standards, but now it’s partly out of the Inuzuka’s own spite and mostly out of their disinterest)

-anyone can marry into the clan and receive full clan membership, but only clan-born Inuzukas can receive facial tattoos

-the clan’s signature facial tattoos are done with a special ink by a designated clan elder. The elder trains an apprentice in how to make the ink and do the tattoos so that they can take over the practice when the elder dies

-it is considered treason of the highest degree for an Inuzuka to abandon their dog for any reason. Anyone who does so is disowned from the clan

-the Inuzuka have a “pack” culture and deeply value community and clan loyalty

-the humans don’t pick their dogs. Instead, the dogs are the ones who pick their human partners: something carrying a person’s scent (usually a piece of clothing) is presented to a group of eligible dogs, and if a dog chooses to be with that person, they will howl to indicate their choice

-dogs and their human partners are buried side-by-side in designated plots

-Inuzukas do basically all of their training outdoors, so they’re known to be good survivalists. Because of their sense of smell, they’re especially good at identifying useful plants

-the Inuzuka have a specialized method of drying and preserving meat in order to make a very tough jerky. Inuzuka children chew the jerky as their fangs develop in order to help wear down rapid fang growth, and it’s also a popular snack for both the humans and dogs in the clan

-Inuzuka medics are specially trained to heal dogs as well as humans

Traits:

-about half of the Inuzuka clan members are semi-colorblind. That said, while they don’t have perfect night vision by any means, Inuzukas have a better than average ability to see in the dark

-it’s a minor characteristic compared to their sense of smell, but Inuzukas also have a noticeably heightened sense of hearing

-Inuzukas are born with normal teeth, and their fangs grow in after they lose their canine teeth. The development of a child’s fangs marks when they are ready to be partnered with a dog

Attire:

-it’s a clan tradition for Inuzukas to wear their dogs’ puppy teeth (dogs lose their baby teeth like humans) as jewelry, usually on a cord around their necks

-Inuzuka facial markings are done with face paint until an Inuzuka turns 16. At that point the markings are tattooed on

-Inuzuka ceremonial clothing consists of a ceremonial fur (which is made from the skins of animals they hunt) and a red sash

-Inuzukas outline their eyes and paint their nails red during clan celebrations, symbolizing past victories in battle via the blood of enemies. The clan head also paints a small red triangle on their forehead

Events:

-the Inuzuka celebrate the new year in winter. During this celebration, it is tradition for each Inuzuka with a dog to braid a short cord from their dog’s fur and give it to a loved one as a token of love and luck

-the clan has a group hunt every summer. They love the thrill of the hunt, but they also make it a point to respect the taking of an animal’s life and avoid killing just for the sake of killing. At the end of the hunting period, the clan gathers to celebrate their successful hunting and honor the lives of the animals they hunted

-when an Inuzuka turns 16 and gets their markings tattooed on, it is tradition for them to do a ritual where they do not let anyone see their face for three days. At the end of the three-day period, the clan members each contribute a piece of kindling to build a fire, which is used to purify a bowl of water that the newly-tattooed Inuzuka uses to wash their face and hands as well as the front paws of their dog. It is also tradition that they are not allowed to let anyone outside the clan see their face for another four days after completing the ritual (so not until a week after getting the tattoos)

NARA CLAN HCS

General:

-the head of the Nara clan is determined by bloodline, but a council of advisors to the clan head is elected democratically. This is somewhat unusual, as the other major clans generally have a council of elders to advise the clan head

-Nara members are granted full political power within the clan once they complete the clan’s coming-of-age ritual during their 16th spring, meaning they can participate in clan votes and hold clan positions. They actually grant this power earlier than many other clans: the age for it in most clans is 18.

-Naras are actually quite superstitious. Many of them engage in lots of little habits to ensure good luck and/or prevent bad luck (such as always facing in a particular direction when sleeping or keeping the windows closed on the first day of the year), which (among other things) has contributed to a stereotype about the clan being somewhat neurotic

-anyone who harms a Nara deer is considered an enemy of the clan

Traits:

-members of the Nara clan have higher than average rates of chronic insomnia

-like the Inuzuka, the Nara have a higher than average (but not outstanding) ability to see in the dark

-people joke that the Nara genes are the strongest in the village, since Nara children tend to have somewhat similar physical traits regardless of their parentage

Attire:

-Nara shinobi grow their hair out as a symbol of longevity and wear it pulled back as a symbol of discipline, resulting in their signature ponytails. A Nara shinobi wearing their hair down while on duty is frowned upon as undignified

-traditional Nara robes include a long, flowing black skirt, which is meant to symbolize flowing shadows. Their robes also are decorated with patterns meant to look like creeping shadow tendrils. The clan leader’s robes have a deer skin collar

-Nara clan members who complete the coming-of-age ritual wear a pendant made from deer antler that’s carved with the clan symbol, which marks the person as a full-fledged member of the clan (regardless of whether they are a chunin who is already considered an adult)

-also, while it isn’t a firm tradition the way the coming-of-age ritual is, many Nara members save the antler their pendant is made from and cut a second piece of it to make into a piece of betrothal jewelry (usually a ring) when they become engaged

Events:

-the Nara have a big bonfire in the winter, during which they light lanterns and hang them from the trees in the forest in a celebration of light (after all, there can’t be shadows without light)

-the Nara coming-of-age ritual consists of a nonstop two-day meditation in the Nara forest to reflect on one’s childhood and gain a clearer understanding of one’s adult path. At the end of their meditation, the person completing the ritual selects a single shed deer antler from the forest, which is then turned into their clan pendant. Nara children complete this ritual during their 16th spring (since the deer shed their antlers in late winter/early spring), so some people have to wait a little longer to do it depending on when they were born

-Nara clan funerals exclusively take place at night. They burn their dead and scatter the ashes in the forest (they also do this when a Nara deer dies)

AKIMICHI CLAN HCS

General:

-the Akimichi clan is one of the largest of Konoha’s major clans, probably because they have no restrictions on who can marry into the clan and they have high birth rates

-however, due to the potentially destructive nature of their clan techniques, not all Akimichi members are taught said techniques. A council of clan elders decides whether each child will be allowed to learn: the only exceptions are those who are related to the clan head, who are guaranteed to be taught the techniques

-leaving a plate of food unfinished is considered exceptionally rude by the Akimichi. In the early days of Akimichi-Nara-Yamanaka shared feasts, several Naras and Yamanakas found this out the hard way

-music is very popular in the Akimichi clan, but unlike the flutes and stringed instruments of the Hyuga clan, Akimichi music is made up of purely percussive instruments like gongs and drums. Unlike the Hyuga, they also do a lot of dancing, which is similarly percussive and utilizes a lot of stomping and clapping

Traits:

-the Akimichi have one of the highest life expectancies of the Konoha clans

-Akimichis handle their alcohol well regardless of what size they are- because of this, the clan has a reputation for being big drinkers

Attire:

-unlike the Inuzuka’s tattoos, the Akimichi’s facial markings are nonpermanent face paint. Each member chooses their own markings, and the different colors have different meanings (such as kindness, strength, and wisdom) that are supposed to represent the key trait each Akimichi wishes to embody

-the Akimichi wear ceremonial armor for important events to signify their strength as a warrior clan. They also wear tasseled headbands with the clan symbol on them: children’s headbands have one tassel on the left side of their faces, and those considered adults by the clan have headbands with tassels on both sides. The tassels have beads on them that are the same color as the wearer’s facial markings

-like the Aburame, the Akimichi clan places high cultural value in their bodies. There’s a big emphasis on taking care of one’s body within the clan, so they’re known for being very hygienic. Unlike the Aburame, the Akimichi also encourage decorating one’s body and dressing however one desires

-the clan head wears a long scarf that represents the vitality of the clan

Events:

-the Akimichi, Nara, and Yamanaka clans have a shared feast every summer in order to foster inter-clan relations, which is always hosted at the Akimichi compound. The signature dish served at the feast is a stew made with meat from Akimichi livestock, tree bark from the Nara forest, and herbs grown by the Yamanaka

-the Akimichis love their feasts in general. Weddings and funerals within the clan are both marked by feasts

-Akimichis are buried with their favorite foods, and the first cup of alcohol poured at an Akimichi funeral is set aside and left at the dead person’s grave

-the Akimichi like to have competitions of physical strength during celebrations, with the most common of these competitions being stone-lifting. Akimichi weddings also involve a wrestling match between the married couple, so they’re always great fun

-when a couple announces their engagement, the clan head bestows them with a caterpillar. They must tend to the caterpillar as it undergoes metamorphosis and becomes a butterfly, at which point they release it: the release of the butterfly signifies that the couple is ready to be wed. It is said that the longer the metamorphosis takes, the more blessed the marriage will be

YAMANAKA CLAN HCS

General:

-unlike the Akimichi (who grant members political power on their 18th birthday) and the Nara (who grant members power after the coming-of-age ritual during their 16th spring), a Yamanaka who is promoted to chunin receives full political power and status in their clan regardless of age, and all non-chunins receive power on their 20th birthday, later than most other clans

-several Yamanaka traditions include special teas made from different flower blends. One of them is a tea drank by a newly-married couple at their wedding to promote a love-filled partnership, one is a tea drank by a child on their first birthday to promote healthy growth and a long life, and one is a tea drank by everyone during the yearly Yamanaka springtime celebration to promote a prosperous and happy year

-Yamanakas have a reputation for being gossips. A juicy secret known by one Yamanaka is soon known by at least five of them

-when they get very old, it’s not unheard of for Yamanakas to stop talking and exclusively communicate mentally

-Yamanakas are very big on meditative practices and mindfulness

Traits:

-it is very rare for a Yamanaka, even one with mixed heritage, to have dark-colored eyes. It’s said that their light eyes allow them to see clearly into the mind

-for whatever reason, Yamanakas can’t grow facial hair

Attire:

-the vast majority of Yamanakas wear their hair long, but no one is allowed to have longer hair than the clan head

-most Yamanakas wear their hair in ponytails, but for ceremonial events, they favor more elaborate braided hairstyles. During the springtime celebration, they braid flowers into their hair

-Yamanaka traditional robes are sleeveless and patterned with flower designs

-the clan head wears a wooden pendant with the clan symbol

Events:

-the Yamanaka clan has a big springtime celebration every year when the flowers bloom, which is also when most of the courtship within the clan happens. They mark their years by springs, so it’s like their New Year’s celebration, and tons of friends and allies from other clans are invited

-before a Yamanaka wedding, the people getting married must spend three days living together. During this time, they are not allowed to see anyone else and are not allowed to speak to each other: this is supposed to strengthen their mental connection with each other

[dannyriccsystem]

hi Z! I have scoliosis (around 20 degrees) and sometimes people like us experience back pain during sex, especially if it’s rough. so imagine the reader has scoliosis. her and the driver just finished having sex but they were really rough on her and she was in pain but didn’t want to say anything because she didn’t want to ruin the moment. she tries to get up or move around and the drivers see her struggling, they thought at first that she was so sore because of them (they’re like 😏😏). but they realize she was in instead pain and she tells them about her scoliosis, and they feel bad for not knowing and promise to go softer or at her pace next time. then cue the soft aftercare. thank you for indulging in my delusions 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

NOT SO ROUGH!

FORMULA ONE DRIVERS X READER

SUMMARY: You have scoliosis, and the drivers go just a tad bit too rough on you! Cue the aftercare.

WARNINGS: Rough sex causing pain (not intentional), aftercare, fluff, Y/N usage, smut/mentions of smut, not entirely proofread

FEATURING: MV1, DR3, LN4, CL16, LH44, CS55, GR63, OP81

I actually dropped everything to do this request this is so cute.

MAX VERSTAPPEN - MV1

Sex with Max was unlike any other, and you found that out the hard way— Literally. You never thought it was relevant to mention the scoliosis, because you hadn’t expected it to be an issue. It never proved as one before, but you were beginning to realize the mistake you’ve made.

He was rough, to sum it up. At first it was fine, your body gently rocking on the soft mattress with every pound of his hips against yours. Then, like a train, it hit you all at once. Your back started to throb, and your cries of pain mixed in with your soft moans, which fueled him more. You climaxed hard, finally falling flat against the mattress as he pulled out.

“You were so good my love,” He whispered as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You groaned, trying to sit up, but it just hurt even more. He chuckled softly, mistaking your pain for soreness. “Can’t move?”

You hissed, eyes welling with tears. He paused, freezing up immediately. He cupped your face, hands suddenly so gentle. The same hands that were roughing you around just moments ago. “Y/N, hey. What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Just-… Just a little,” You breathed in slowly, letting his hands pull you up into a sitting position. “I should have told you, I have scoliosis… It really hurts, I just… I was enjoying it, and I didn’t want to ruin your moment.”

“Oh, lieverd.” He pulled you towards him softly, peppering your face with kisses. “I will always prioritize your comfort over my pleasure. I want you to feel good too.” He propped up some pillow behind you, helping you lean back against them. “I’m glad you felt good, but next time, tell me as soon as it starts hurting.”

He kissed away your tears, sitting down beside you. “Okay… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He climbed off the bed and stepped into the connecting bathroom, returning seconds later with a towel. Max carefully wiped the sweat and arousal from your naked body, before draping you with a soft blanket. You hummed, your soreness seeping away. “Can I get you anything else?”

“No, I think I’m okay.” He climbed in beside you, softly kissing your forehead again. You smiled softly, relaxing against your mountain of pillows.

“You did great, I’m sorry I hurt you.” With those final words, you pressed yourself against his side and drifted off into a gentle snore.

—

DANIEL RICCIARDO - DR3

Unfortunately for you, it was hard for Daniel to tell the difference between whines of pain and whines of pleasure, which is why he didn’t take note of the excruciating back pain you were in. It was partially stupid on your end to hold back the information from him, as it could prove to be helpful, especially in a time like this. However, in your defense, you didn’t know that your first night together would be so rough.

And I mean literally. He was manhandling you, slamming his hips against yours. Of course, you enjoyed it at first, but as the minutes went by, the pain in your back grew. You hissed out in pain, clawing at his back. He figured this was part of your expression of arousal, and continued. It wasn’t until the tears began to well that he got the hint.

He slowly withdrew his length, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. You breathed heavily, your back throbbing in pain. “Hey, hey…” He whispered in a hushed tone as you quietly cried. “Too rough? I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His hands softened as he lowered you back against the mattress.

You twitched, trying to shift into an upright position, and then cried out in pain. With quick reaction time, he grabbed your waist to steady you, brows furrowed. “What’s going on? Did I hurt you?” The sincerity in his eyes pained your heart.

“No- Well, yes, but it’s not your fault.” Your voice was shaking. With his help you sat up, your legs feeling like jelly and your back hurting like hell. “I have scoliosis, Danny. It was just a bit too rough for me.” You felt ashamed saying it, because you realized you should have said something sooner.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He kissed your cheeks apologetically, hands rubbing soothing circles across your exposed back. “I wish you would have told me, I would have been much more careful.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll be okay, it just hurt,” You giggled softly at his worried expression, and leaned back against the headboard.

“Next time I’ll be more mindful. We can establish a safe word just in case it starts to hurt again.” You nodded in agreement, and shortly after Danny scampered off to collect some items to help soothe your pain.

—

LANDO NORRIS - LN4

Lando was a pent up guy. Racing really restricted his access to his lover, you, and when he was traveling so much he barely had any time to get himself off. It sounded gross, but the guy desperately needed a release. Thankfully, the week after the triple header was a free week, meaning he could come home and cherish you like he had been yearning for.

Cherish you he did. Your first time was a wild ride with Lando. He had assured your pleasure came first before he finally let himself enjoy you, sinking into your plush walls and losing control of himself. He hammered his hips into yours at a relentless pace, truly sinking in the glory of it all.

It felt great at first— Better than anything you had tried yourself, but the pleasure had melted into pain as soon as he started getting rougher. You hissed in pain, which was subsided by loud and uncontrollable moans. It felt like ages you were laying there until he pulled out, releasing on your stomach.

You breathed in shakily as he flopped onto the bed beside you, panting from over exertion. Even an athlete like himself would get tired after that. He rolled onto his side to face you, chuckling under his breath when he saw you struggling to move. “Sore?” He asked softly, amusement in his tone.

Except the color drained from his face when he realized you were in pain. He should have noticed it instantly, but he was caught up in the adrenaline of it all still. He sat up quickly, cupping your cheek with his palm and soothingly brushing his thumb over your soft skin. “Hey, Y/N? What’s happening?”

“Pain,” You uttered out. His heart immediately shattered for you, and he lifted to cradle your head in his lap, brushing a few baby hairs away from your face. “My back— Scoliosis flaring up-”

“Oh, Y/N… I didn’t know,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “What can I do?” You huffed, breathing out shakily. You slowly tried to lift yourself, and he took the hint to help you sit up. In a more steady position, you felt like you could breathe clearly again.

“‘M sorry, Lan. I should have told you.” He gently rubbed circles onto your back, checking your eyes for clarity. “I never thought it would be necessary until now.” You locked eyes with him, and he offered an apologetic smile. “I felt really good, but… Maybe we should take it slow next time.”

He nodded immediately, pulling a blanket up to cover your exposed skin. You softened, feeling the throbbing pain start to slowly creep away. “Yes, thank you for understanding.” You felt your lips quirk into a smile as you shared a gentle kiss.

—

CHARLES LECLERC - CL16

Maybe it was the position. Sitting up straight with no support, moving your hips as you rode your boyfriend, was probably not the best idea considering your back condition. Charles could barely contain himself, his passion too strong to hold back.

You hadn’t expressed your pain, trying to push it aside. It wasn’t until you went limp against his body that he realized something was wrong. Charles slowly pulled himself out of your tight heat, feeling himself soften instantly. He cupped your cheeks, shaking you fully awake.

“Y/N? Hey, Y/N-” He froze when you blinked your eyes, seeming barely awake. He gave a sigh of relief. “Are you okay? Too rough?” He tried to keep calm, but it was hard. Pain was the last feeling he wanted you to experience during sex, unless you asked for it of course.

“Just a little bit.” You tried to push yourself up, but pain shot up your spine and you froze. “I should have told you. Charles, I have scoliosis. I never thought it would be important to mention.” You frowned, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, I wish I had known. Either way, I should have checked in to make sure you felt good.” He lifted you carefully, his strong arms picking you up with ease. He placed you back on the mattress, tucking the covers in around you. “What can I get for you?”

“Maybe some painkillers and a heating pad.” You weren’t mad, just in pain, and thankfully… Charles was willing to care for you.

He rushed off out of the bedroom to gather your things. Roughly five minutes later he returned with some tea, medicine, and a heating pad for you to lay on. After you were situated, he climbed in beside you and carefully held you in the safety of his arms.

He drew patterns into the skin of your arm with his finger, tracing random shapes. You were 90% sure some of them were outlines of circuits. “Next time, we can go at your pace. Maybe even use a safe word, hm?” His voice was barely a whisper.

“I’d like that.”

—

LEWIS HAMILTON - LH44

Lewis was a sincere guy. He always asked for permission, and assured that you were comfortable and safe during the act of sex. Tonight was no different, except he was testing the waters to see how rough he could go.

He was unaware of your scoliosis, and you were equally unaware of how much of an issue it would pose. Your pleasure had softened into pain, and your moans started to sound more like desperate cries. It didn’t take long for him to notice.

He tried to keep a good eye on you, and when he realized the subtle change, he froze his movements. “Everything okay?” Lewis asked, brushing a stray tear from your eyes. You shook your head softly, and he pulled out, his focus now entirely on you. “Okay, okay… Shh..”

He scooped you up into his arms and carried you off the hard couch, and set you down on his bed. You could barely move any part of your body without an unbearable ache. He kissed your jaw and collarbones, soothing your muscles. “Talk to me, pretty. What’s going on?”

“My scoliosis is acting up.” You watched his brows furrow.

“I didn’t realize you had scoliosis.” You seemed to shrink down into yourself, feeling slightly ashamed for not saying anything. “Well now I know, and I won’t cross that line again.” He positioned both hands on your waist. “Can you roll onto your stomach? How about a back massage?”

—

CARLOS SAINZ - CS55

This was a new position for the both of you. You always liked missionary, because you liked to see the expressions Carlos made, and it was nice and relaxing that way. Sex felt so much more intimate, but after a particularly grueling race, he came back to your hotel room feeling a little more wound up than usual.

You ended up on your hands and knees on the bed, back slightly arched. You were in pain from the start, but the pleasure helped to mask it. Right up until the end. You managed to stick it out until you both came, leaving each of your satisfactory. It was after your climax that you collapsed against the uncomfortable hotel bed, quivering.

You felt Carlos lean over you, his chest brushing against the bareness of your back as he left little kisses all over the skin. “Sore, mi amor?” His accent was thick as he whispered against you. You shuddered, but it wasn’t like the typical one. Something felt off.

He lifted himself up and helped you tilt your head to the side, realizing you were in pain. He helped you roll onto your back and sit up, making sure your every move was supported. After giving you some water and helping you breathe again, you looked away and explained yourself. “Carlos, I should have told you earlier but I didn’t want to ruin the moment… I have scoliosis.”

“Ah, amor…” He kissed your temple, holding the side of your head with his large hand. “I don’t care about that, I just care that you’re okay and safe. In the future, tell me if I’m too rough. I’ll never be too out of it to listen to your wishes, especially during intimate moment.”

His sincere response made you feel emotional. You buried your face in his neck, letting him cradle you gently to ease the pain.

—

GEORGE RUSSELL - GR63

Your relationship with George had been practically perfect, but things were still going at a slower pace. Tonight in itself was a big step, because it was the first night you both showed interest in having sex— So you did.

You wanted to tell him, you really did, but it never came up naturally. It was hard to talk about, because even though it didn’t look too obvious, scoliosis made a lot of everyday things difficult for you. What you didn’t realize was that sex would be one of these things.

You initially were fine, but as George lost himself in the pleasure, the pain started to become more prominent. You seethed between gritted teeth, clinging to him tight. He took this as a sign to continue his efforts, letting the both of you climax simultaneously. He laid down beside you, rolling the two of you onto your sides as he held you.

You winced, tears finally spilling. Finally paying attention fully, George quickly realized and hopped out of bed, ready to do whatever you asked of him. “Y/N? What’s wrong? Can I get you anything?”

You almost laughed, but the pain was too prevalent. You just shook your head. “Scoliosis- Back hurts.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He helped you shift into a position that was comfortable, and sat down beside you. “Deep breaths with me, like this.”

Once he was certain you would be okay, he gathered some towels, fresh clothes, some hot tea, and put on your favorite movie while he gently massaged your aching back muscles, reassuring you that this would not be a repeat cause. It was safe to say you felt very loved that night.

—

OSCAR PIASTRI - OP81

It actually started as your idea. You and Oscar had always been fairly vanilla in bed, and while you loved it, you wanted to experiment more- Find out what you were really in to. He didn’t mind your request to be a bit rougher, even if it was awkward for him at first. He was used to being gentle with you.

You really did enjoy it at first, and then rough turned into hurtful, and your back started throbbing like hell. You scratched his bare back, for sure leaving deep marks from your nails. He groaned, head dipping down to bury into your neck. You whispered out a hoarse, “stop,” and he didn’t even have to think twice.

There was no safe word in place, but he didn’t want to take any chances. Oscar pulled out immediately, staring down at your face and searching for emotion. He could tell you were hurting, and your pain usually meant he felt pain too.

“What? What happened?” He stared down at you, and you slowly tried to reach up, but couldn’t really move your arm. Even that alone hurt like hell.

“Scoliosis. I think you went too rough,” Her tone wasn’t accusatory or mad, but he still felt awful. “Help me sit,” He did it without question, pulling your body up to sit against the headboards. He stood up and grabbed his hoodie off the floor, helping you pull it over your head.

“What can I get for you, baby?” He kissed your forehead, voice soft as he rubbed your arms soothingly. You shook your head.

“Nothing, it’ll pass… I just need to relax.” After dressing himself, he joined you on the bed and let you get settled in his arms.

“Maybe we should stick to being gentle.”

“Couldn’t agree more.”

[litsenn]

Hi, I hope it's alright to ask your thoughts on something about Astarion. I just think your posts always show a very deep understanding of Astarion as a character, especially in regards to his complicated views on sex and intimacy, and I really appreciate and respect your analyses. I'm only on my second playthrough, so I like to hear from people who have played a lot more than I have.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Astarion’s state of mind in the first sex scene in act one (I'm currently writing about it). The more I think about it, his experience seems to be a very complex mixture of both positive and negative that exist simultaneously. These are just some of my current personal thoughts (all of this in the context of the PC being someone who treats him well and is generally a good person):

This is the first time he's getting to have sex on his own terms in 200 years, and that's probably liberating, in a slightly terrified and overwhelmed way. He is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling. 

He knows the PC better than he ever knew any of his past targets, but he doesn’t yet believe that they truly care about him, either.

The sex ends up meaning more to him than he thought it would, but I also imagine it isn't exactly enjoyable for him, given his dissociation, feelings of disgust, and the fact that this was all just supposed to be an act. 

He is also probably struggling to reconcile the fact that he’s growing to genuinely like the PC with his belief that they are fetishizing him (this also connects with your incredible post about Astarion’s feelings about feeding on the PC at this point, and how biting during sex can be enjoyable for him, though still uncomfortable in that he views it as transactional) 

He feels like his performance here is important to his survival, because in his mind he is using sex as currency to get the PC on his side. The transactional nature of it is probably comfortable in its familiarity, yet no less disgusting for him.

 So what I’m ultimately trying to ask is: 

In your opinion, how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative? 

Which of the feelings mentioned above do you think are at the forefront of his mind going into the encounter? Which ones “win out” over others? Are there more factors I forgot / didn’t list?

(I hope I made this sound somewhat coherent. I’ve had a hard time articulating my thoughts about this scene.)

First of all, thank you so much for your kind words 😭 I’m always very touched when people say they enjoy reading my stuff. I don’t know if my understanding of the character is so relevant, all I can say is that I relate to him on many levels, and therefore I analyse him from my personal perspective. Which also means that my posts are just one interpretation among many others.

Now, concerning this scene, there’s a lot to unpack. And I first have to say that there is no clear answer to the question "Did he enjoy it or not?". IMO, it will always be yes and no. And I'm only offering a personal analysis of this ambivalent situation.

Proceed at your own discretion because I’m going to talk about trauma, SA, sex-work and complicated relations to sex in general. Be careful.

Please, keep in mind that al of this is pure speculation (and forgive the typos😅)(and this post is long and chaotic, sorry).

I globally agree with all your points, and I love that you mentioned the complexity of his feelings during this scene. We can all agree that he has contradictive feelings about sex in Act 1. It's not just disgust, not just hedonism, not just attraction, not just manipulation: it's all of this and more.

And that’s one of the things I love about the writing of this character.

Sex is always complex (for everyone) but for survivors it’s even more complicated. And I love that Astarion’s narrative stands against the “perfect victim” tropes and the idea that SA survivors are incapable of enjoying sex. Despite the decades of SA, Astarion still enjoys it and wants it, but his desire is tainted with self-loathing, with fear. He deals with those through defence mechanisms and what I’d call “automatisms” from his former experiences and obligations.  

That's why before I answer your questions, I want to add one point which can also work as a foreword to the rest of the post: Astarion is attracted to the PC.

He says it during the confession scene, and there's no reason for him to lie at this point. Likewise, if the PC tells him they can be together without having sex, he's indeed relieved, pleasantly surprised, but he jests about it being a challenge.

I think there's some truth in those words: it will be somehow challenging. First because sex is the only kind of intimacy he's known for 200 years; it's will be difficult to "quit the habit", to discover and get used to new ways to get close to someone. Secondly, because he does find the PC attractive and probably wants to be able to have sex with them without feeling bad about it.

After all, it seems like he enjoyed sex very much before Cazador turned him, since at the beginning, he thought he could still enjoy having sex with his targets.

Meaning sex wasn’t something that disgusted him before all this. He might be able to remember (deep down) that sex can be 100% enjoyable.

Yet, it doesn’t necessarily means he’s now incapable of enjoying it; it only means that it’s going to be more complicated. He needs to rediscover how to fully enjoy it again – on his own terms – now that he’s free to give his consent.

Take the brothel scene for instance; if the PC has sex with Astarion and the Drow twins after dealing with Cazador, he's at first very excited about it. And I don't see any lie here, he's genuinely enthusiastic.

Unfortunately, during the orgy, he realises that it’s not for him ( not yet at least). Being with many people, and/or with someone that is not the PC is still an experience that triggers his trauma. But he didn't know that, he wasn't expecting his trauma to manifest. He wanted to do it, he wanted to enjoy it.

Not only he falls back into his old mechanism: sex as a performance, Astarion as an entertainer who must give the best performance to his partners, paying no attention to his own desire and needs. Followed by dissociation, which is something that happen automatically. You don't decide to dissociate. It's your brain switching off because the reality is too uncomfortable. It's survival.

Anyways, this bad experience is typical of what can happen to someone who's healing. It's normal. You want to explore your sexuality, and sometimes it works perfectly well, and sometimes not. That’s what healing is about. It's not linear, and sometimes it's messy.

It is true that some SA survivors are perpetually sex revulsed. And some of them become sex-addicts. And for most of them, it’s somewhere in-between. Still capable of enjoying sex VERY MUCH, but also finding themselves disgusted by sex sometimes for reasons they can’t really explain. There’s no rule as to how survivors experience sexual attraction. 

All of this to say that it is clear to me that Astarion experience sexual attraction, that he is attracted to the PC and that even in Act 1, an important part of him wants to have sex with the PC.

Back to your points.

Control, habits and defence mechanisms

I like how you said he “is likely trying to convince himself that he feels more empowered and in-control than he actually does, because he needs that feeling.”

There’s definitely something in his mind that still thinks as a slave, something which believes that he must have sex to be safe. Because it was the case for as long as he can remember.

Seducing people, sleeping with them without thinking about his own needs, that's part of his habitus. His body has been a tool for so long that he still sees it as such.

It’s ingrained in his mind, and even if he’s regaining his agency, some of the seeds planted by Cazador persist in his mind (and will until the Act 2 confession). Astarion says it himself, it's instinctive. And as you put it, it's somehow comfortable, it's charted territories.

A part of him tells him his only value relies on his sexual skills. Therefore he associates sex to a “safety net”. But he probably hasn’t acknowledged that yet in act 1; he prefers to lie to himself and to pretend he’s sleeping with the PC because he has become the puppet master. It's easier to think that way. But in fact, it was just a automatism, his survival instinct. So even if he’s really attracted to the PC, Astarion is still driven by fear and by a need to control how the PC feels about him (precisely because he's so afraid to lose control over the situation). And sex is the perfect tool for that. His body is the perfect tool.

[I can recall a few numbers of times when I had sex with people while lying to myself and pretending I 100% wanted it, pretending I was the one in control, when in fact, I had sex with those persons for reasons that had nothing to do with my own desire. It doesn't mean I didn't find them attractive, it doesn't mean I regret having sex with them, but it still means that my motivations weren’t what I thought they were, that my decision to have sex was still controlled by something else in my mind, something different from my actual desire. I acknowledged it months and sometimes years later.]

When Astarion welcomes the PC in the clearing, he’s performing. When I say he’s performing, I mean in the way he presents himself as as a person craving for sex, and he expresses his desire as such. He puts on the mask of the “mysterious sexy vampire”, keeping his voice low and his smirk sharp. He plays his part, the one he's played for years. He pretends to be the lover he thinks the PC wants him to be, the overly seductive vampire with his exaggerated declarations.

I think there are several ways to explain why he feels the need to perform:

It has always worked with his target up to now

That's the only way he knows

The exaggeration is also a shield behind which he can hide his vulnerabilities

Let me explain that last point : Saying a simple “I’m attracted to you, I want to be with you tonight”, without all the grandiloquence, is not something he would do at this point (even if that's how he feels), because that would make him look vulnerable. That would mean being honest with himself and with you, letting you see his raw desire, so to speak. It would feel too real (I purposely insist on that word and you all know why), and it's easier to exaggerate the whole thing and to pretend to be the hedonistic and over-the-top vampire. After all, he’s confident, he’s been doing that for years. He knows it works. He knows he’s hard to resist.

But when you think about it, he's obviously lying, saying he wanted this to happen since his first meeting with the PC... Come on, the first time they met he was ready to kill them.

It's a lovely lie, just like the "I love you" during his second proposition for sex (I talked about it here), but when you look into it, it's far grimmer.

Once more, there's a parallel between sex and death: "to have you"= Killing you. I already talked about that connection here, so I'll just quote myself: "It's possible to see Astarion's offer to kill you as a foreshadowing of him offering you to have sex with you. And considering what sex means to him at this point of his life - a tool to manipulate, which can lead to his partners to death - the parallel between the two in early act 1 makes a lot of sense to me."

But oh! µTav/Durge survived that first night with him! The PC is still here in the morning! That's new! It never happened to him before, waking up next to his partner. He needs to control this unusual and terrifying experience! Quick!

So I tend to think that the little remark about the PC being loud all night falls along those lines. He displays his (exaggerated) hedonistic and over-confident part of his persona, as a way to reassert that he’s the one in control. As if saying, reminding them: "I made you (the leader of the group) scream all night because I decided to, and everybody knows about it. I’m the one calling the shots.” 

But I think it's also as way to hide how he really feels about that night. So instead of opening up and saying how he feels about it, he teases the PC about their own enjoyment. Another defence mechanism.

And yet, the mask cracks a little bit when he asks if the PC wants to lose themselves in him; he suddenly looks terribly sad…

he asks for a consent he was never able to give before that

That’s probably a line he’s said thousands of times before and those who agreed did get lost… in death

It brings him back to the feeling of being a toy for others to enjoy, for people to use so they can "lose themselves"

The look on his face here is what he's trying to hide during this scene. He's wearing that mask (which will come back later if you ascend him), because he needs to protect himself. I'm not even sure if he acknowledges it at this point. It's an automatism.

But I believe that, as the night unfolds, he finds himself enjoying it.

Maybe it's just me, but I tend to feel like he’s getting more like his playful and silly self when you let him bite you. Whereas if you trust him to not bite, he keeps on performing, in control, like he was told to do by Cazador. 

If you let him bite you, you roll on the ground and he looks pleasantly surprised. And I think he starts to have fun here.

(Shadowheart, please)

And I think he can enjoy it even if he dissociates. As I said, the switch is automatic when the brain finds itself in a situation that represents some kind of danger or discomfort. For two hundred years, Astarion experienced sex in a way that was all but comfortable, sex he didn’t really want. It makes sense that his brain automatically switches off. Even though he’s having a good time here, intimacy itself is a trigger, no matter how much he's enjoying it. It’s instinctive, just like flirting is instinctive to him, paradoxically.

And I find the way he explains it quite interesting: he pretends it’s because of his bloodlust, because he didn't want to get carried away.

You see in his eyes that he’s lying. And I kinda like it because it’s sooo relatable. Finding excuses to justify dissociation or plain detachment during sex? yeah, that something I did, with answers along those lines: “I didn’t want to hurt you/I didn’t want to be too intense/I didn’t want to be too loud/I didn't want to scare you/I'm a little tired/etc."

And I still think he enjoys it even if he’s not 100% into it. He keeps his distance (mentally, emotionally) and it’s normal because he’s careful, because he doesn’t really know how to let go. And (healthy, happy) sex is about letting go completely, it‘s about trusting someone and allowing yourself to be completely free from your mental and physical restrains and automatisms.

It’s easy to understand why he can’t fully let go: he’s afraid, because he’s not 100% sure he can enjoy this, because he doesn't know how the PC will behave, and because he must be in control to feel safe.

His body knows how it works, so he lets his body act automatically,  that body which have danced the same dance thousands of time. He doesn’t have to think and it’s easier not to think. Easier and apparently safer than following his true desires. Here again, it's an automatism: his body knows, he can switch his mind off, protecting it from potential bad memories, protecting him from his own desire and feelings, protecting him from the temptation of being himself.

He can’t let go, he has to be in control. if only to make sure he will offer his partner the best performance. Even if he's enjoying the moment because the PC is respectful, playful, gentle or whatever you imagine for this first night, he can't let go.

As you said, he’s convinced the PC is only here for his looks – But think about it: Astarion himself never offered anything other than sex, he didn’t pretend he was in love with the PC. He only offered his body. By doing so, he's also protecting himself from potential feelings (theirs or his) of attachment and affection.

It's like saying “Don’t get attached to me. It’s just SEX”. He pulls up his own walls to keep the PC outside. It's another contradiction: he suffers from being seen as a beautiful and shallow individual who’s only good for sex, but he says upfront that he won’t give more than sex. He keeps the PC away (emotionally) while suffering from it. That’s another defence mechanism, combined with the fact that he probably still sees himself as a "mean to an end" (unconsciously), unable to see that he can be someone else than the "hedonistic and heartless vampire."

Besides, it's probable that he doesn’t believe it’s even possible for anyone to care about him. So he anticipates a potential emotional disappointment by saying that it’s only sex, convincing himself as much as to convince the PC that there’s nothing more to expect from it.

Positive/negative experience

You asked how much of this experience feels positive to him vs negative. Let's recap.

Positive feelings:

Excitement (first time having sex on his own terms + he’s attracted to the PC)

Physical pleasure (sex + blood if the PC lets him bite them)

Fun

A sense of freedom

Relief and a sense of pride (they fell into his trap)

A newfound affection (they trust him, they respect him)

Good surprise (he can still have fun while having sex!)

The PC being who they are (more about this later)

Negative feelings:

A sense of obligation

Fear

PTSD

The need to perform and make sure they enjoy it

Habits that make him serve instead of just enjoy the moment

Guilt

Shame

Confusion

Disgust

Feeling of being used (even if the PC isn't exactly "using him"; they accept his offer and they're not to be blamed for it)

One could think that the negative feelings are more important, and true, those bad feelings can be destructive. But I don’t think the unbalance is so evident, maybe because the positive feelings are all completely new to him, therefore they may be particularly powerful.

But in fact, they're all entangled and messy, and I believe Astarion himself can’t really make sense of them.

And later, he sums it up all on his own.

What we know, is that a few days later, he remembers that night as a good experience. And exceptionally good experience.

And tbh I think that’s what matters: What he makes of this night, how he digests and, remembers it, and how he looks back at it. It was special. Special enough for him to admit it.

He admits it feels different with you, it feels good with you -- but he can't yet get rid of the negative feelings sneaking in the back of his mind, ruining what should be a lovely moment.

As for the main feeling at the forefront of his mind… I don’t think it would be one feeling, but more a motivation: “I must stay in control” (whether he succeeded is up to discussion). In the end, I think he manages to suppress his main fears, to keep a certain distance, while at the same time finding himself surprised to be enjoying it.

Questionable motivations and enjoyment

As a SA survivor myself and a former sex-worker, there are so many things that fall close to home both in terms of ptsd, of performance and habitus. I perfectly see how desire, obligations, attraction and disgust can mingle until they become difficult to set apart. {Mind you, I’m not saying that sex-work and sex-abuse are one and the same, far from it. One can be a sex-worker and have never been abused].

In the case of Astarion, he’s first and foremost a survivor, and even if he compares himself to a prostitute a few times, he had no choice in doing it. Therefore, it's not sex-work, it’s human trafficking.

Yet, it's still transactional, and just like a sex-worker, he had to perform, to let the partner(/client) believe that he wanted them, that he wanted it, that he was enjoying it, even when it wasn’t the case. Remember how he made Sebastian believe he was head over heels for him.

During the first night with the PC, Astarion decides to have sex without anyone forcing him to do it. But he doesn’t do it out of sheer lust and attraction. He does it because he wants to keep himself safe and he thinks that’s the only way. Which is, imo, closer to what a sex-worker would do: having sex for money because they need that money to pay the rent or whatever they need to survive. No one is forcing them, except the material conditions and (in Astarion’s case at least) cognitive bias (the belief that he’s “only good at that”) + long terms habits.

And just like a SW, he has to make them believe that he's totally into it (believe me, client don't enjoy it as much if the SW doesn't pretend to be attracted to them).

Look at him, he’s performing. He's said those lines multiples times before. Even the movement of his hand: it’s theatrical. It’s planned and calculated.

This too is instinctive. He's done that for years and he is good at it.

Look at the shift, look how easy it is for him to put on a smiling face to "open a lot of doors" (and legs).

And after pretending to be attracted to those persons, he had to pretend sleeping with them didn't affect him. That too falls close to home.

That line in particular. SO FUCKING RELATABLE IT HURTS.

In my experience, there had been bad experiences. But you go on, because you need to. And to protect your own sanity, you stick to the idea that it's fine, that you can do that again. That it doesn't matter.

But it does matter.

And yet....

In the case of SW (which should always be consensual), being with a client can be a nice experience. Some clients are attractive, some clients are very sweet and respectful, some clients are very good fucks, some clients are all of this (and some clients are bastards but we’re not talking about them here). In any case, they are still clients. As a SW, I didn’t see them as potential ‘real’ lovers, and I wouldn’t have considered sleeping with them in any other situation. It doesn’t mean the experience was bad. I had genuine O with some clients and really enjoyed the company of some of them.

It seems contradictory, but it's real.

Back to Astarion: at the beginning of the meeting it ultimately starts with a performance, like the SW pretending they really want it (whereas they're only do it for money), but it might turn into a really good moment for everyone involved.

And IMO, that's more or less what's happening here with Astarion.

It's a tricky thing to explain because I really don’t want to look like I’m promoting forcing anyone to do anything. Sex should ALWAYS happen in a situation in which all the persons involved are 100% sure they want to do it, and 100% sure their partner(s) want to do it.

But there are exceptional situations (such as sex-work or what Astarion’s going through here, and I can think of other cases), where sex remains enjoyable even if the original motivations weren’t that clear. It’s not fully incompatible. Clearly, that’s NOT a healthy way to deal with your sexuality!!! But it can happen. And the main point here is that it still relies on consent. The person fully consents to do it, but they do it for “questionable” reasons (whether they acknowledge it or not), and they enjoy it in spite of having questionable reasons to do it. It can happen.

I think that’s what happens to Astarion at this point.

(That being said, I repeat it: ALWAYS make sure your partner is fully into it, and NEVER force yourself to have sex if you’re not 100% sure you want it!)

From a transaction to something else

It’s interesting to notice that if the PC refuses to have sex with him in the clearing, he doesn’t really seem to care.

He’s probably disappointed because his plan failed, but his reaction is very different from the reaction you get if the PC rejects him after the first night (my post on this matter here) when he seems really sad to be rejected. It means, I think, that this first night was REALLY meaningful – his heartfelt reaction to your rejection to spend another night together makes it clear. That first night was special since his reaction to your refusal is so very different.

In any case, if the PC refuses during that first night, he says he thought you had an “understanding", and it somehow evokes me something like a transaction (as you rightly mentioned in your message).

And it's not the first time he compares sex with the PC to a transaction. The first time he offers them to sleep with him, he presents it as a reward for letting him bite the PC. It's transactional: You let me feed, I give you sex.

He thinks that’s what sex is about. He has never known anything else, or maybe he did a long time ago but can’t remember.

I wrote that long post about how feeding him can be quite problematic given how he might see it as a transaction (here and here): Offering the the vampire bite kink in order to be fed and survive. It’s the same here.

He knows the PC enjoyed being bitten, he’s convinced they're attracted to him, and by being the one who gives "a reward", he presents himself in a position of control. I “allow” you to have sex with me, since you want it so much: I’m the one making that decision, having more power over you.

After all, in his mind at this point, sex is a question of power. (And if he ascends he undeniably falls back into that pattern; treating sex as a reward, as something to use to better control the PC)

You put it rightly in your message, there's also some sort of familiarity with that transactional system that is deeply comforting.

I won't lie, back in the days, it was sometimes difficult for me to be with someone who wasn't a client, because my partners then didn't expect anything from me. Whereas clients always expect something specific, if only in the SW's behaviour, or/and concerning the acts themselves. And it was comforting. I knew what I had to do to please them. But as I said, it didn't always keep me from having a good time with some clients. It's not incompatible. That's why I think Astarion can still enjoy it even though he's performing, and can get attached to the PC even if it started as something more or less transactional.

And that's precisely why it must have been so destabilizing for him!

After all, when that first night together happens, he appreciates the PC (you need enough approval to sleep with him). As you pointed out, they've already spent several days/weeks together, shared a lot things... That's new to him, sleeping with someone he knows and appreciates.

As a SW, I had defined through the years a clear line between people I met for the job, and people I met outside of it. There was no confusion between the two, even for the long-terms clients – even for the clients I cared about. I liked them, but we weren’t friends, we weren’t partners, we weren’t lovers. And we would never be.

I would say that in the case of Astarion, that separation exists, but it’s not as well defined because, despite his experience, all his partners were destined to end up dead (for all he knew) and he barely knew them anyway. He didn’t have to clearly define that separation because there was no opportunity, no room for him to get attached to them. He saw a target, seduced them, slept with them and they disappeared forever.

It was “easy”, he didn’t have to question the nature of his relationship with them. Whereas after that first night with the PC, they’re still there, alive, and they’re still being this great leader who cares about him and his needs, who values him as a person, someone whose company feels good. His habitus is all messed up and his mental pattern is no long relevant.

{From personal experience, and SW put aside, many years ago, before I really started working on my traumas, I forced myself to believe that I didn’t need affection, tenderness, care. I would never allow myself to cry, I refused to get attached to people (except some very close friends). Because I wanted to be in control of my feelings, I thought it made me look stronger, not showing any kind of vulnerability. I was 27 or 28 when I first experienced genuine tenderness and care while having sex and I realized that there was a softness inside me I had hindered for years and that I actually loved tenderness. Before that, I would run away at the first sign of affection, because it made me feel deeply uncomfortable (and vulnerable).  And when I finally accepted to experience it, it was completely destabilizing. It felt good, but I needed time to adapt.}

Astarion realizing that he wanted something real, soft, and gentle with the PC might have had the same kind of effect, but worse.  Because he was supposed to be manipulating the PC, to pull the strings, and he suddenly found himself being “manipulated” by his own feelings.

It must have been terrifying for him, realising that he could feel something like this. Because it means he doesn’t control himself (his feelings) as much as he wants to, as much as he thought he could. He "falls" for the PC, the expression itself being one of vulnerability.

For him, falling in love = falling into a trap. He was supposed to be the one crafting that trap, and he ends up being trapped by his (uncontrollable) feelings.

That's why he can sound so cynical about your affair. This banter is from Act 2 if you romance him:

He feels uncomfortable, not because you had sex, but because it actually means something, and he doesn't not how to deal with it. It's easier to joke about it than to admit that maybe he's not so much in control.

It's not the PC's fault

He’s hurt, he has PTSD, but he can now think by himself and make his own choices, for better or worse.

It’s normal for us, fans who know the rest of the story, to worry about him and to not want to have him do something he's not fully into. But we should give him some credits and let him experience sex his own way.

When you’re a survivor, sometimes you have great sex experience, sometimes your PTSD will ruin it, and you won’t be able to go through with it. Sometimes you have sex for bad reasons, sometimes you regret it and sometimes you’re proud of it. Sometimes you have healthy sex and sometimes you use it to hurt yourself. It’s normal. That’s what healing is about and how you learn to define your boundaries.

Astarion didn’t have any body agency for two centuries, it’s coherent that his first experience as a free man is driven by questionable reasons. You can’t expect him to immediately find a healthy way to deal with his sexuality.

For instance, if you don't sleep with him at the party, he spends the night with Lae'zel, and imho it's even worse.

She shamelessly uses him like a toy, and he knows about it. But it's still his decision to sleep with her, even if his motivations aren't "good". You can't take that away from him on the pretext of protecting him. He doesn't need that kind of infantilisation. Same thing when he decides to sleep with the PC.

The thing is that the PC can’t know. As benevolent and respectful and selfless as the PC is, it’s part of Astarion's storyline that they don’t notice anything. He does his best to keep the mask up because the last thing he wants is to look vulnerable to you.

And he knows it's not the PC's fault. He slept with them for questionable reasons and he feels bad about it; not because he thinks they hurt him, but because he knows he mostly hurt himself, and he feels bad for manipulating the PC.

He doesn't blame the PC for it, and I'm sure it's not because he's deluded by his sense of guilt. After all, he never blamed his targets for sleeping with him, even the "villains" among them. They're not the enemies.

Those who hurt him didn't hurt him because they accepted to sleep with him, but more probably because of their behaviours during sex.

Besides, if the PC uses the confession dialogue to trick him into sleeping with them again, Astarion accepts before realising how disgusted he feels about it, and there he blames the PC for it, because here they explicitly abused his trust, using his vulnerabilities against him. It's still difficult for him to say no, especially to someone he respects, but he can say no when he's not taken aback in his most vulnerable moments (again: he doesn't sleep with the PC at all if there's not enough approval). Sleeping with him that first night doesn't make the PC an abuser.

In act 1, the PC has no way to know how Astarion is feeling about sex, The PC is one that fool who wanted to love him...

Trust

I already mentioned how pleased he looks when the PC let him bite them, and I think it has to do with trust. They accept to spend the night with him although they know he's a vampire and they trust him not to drink too much. Look at his reaction if the PC warn him not to bite.

He's really disappointed, enough to put an end to this affair. The tone he uses here doesn't seem 100% genuine, though, masking indignation? frustration? sadness? I don't know, but the "it's about pleasure" sounds so fake to me.

He nonetheless decides to not sleep with the PC - he listens to himself and realises he doesn't want to spend the night with someone who can't trust him. The PC has taken back their trust and reduced him to his vampiric nature (as something bad). Whereas if they sleep with him, they show him that they accept him.

That’s what makes that night so special: not thanks to some sort of “collective ecstasy” but thanks to mutual trust. The PC trusts him not to hurt them. Astarion trust them not to abuse him. He’s not ready to be vulnerable, but he allows himself to enjoy that moment with the PC, despite his plan, despite his past. Because they've both come this far and the PC has proved him multiple times that he could rely on them. It’s a fragile trust at this point, but it’s still more than  what he’d ever had before.

An essential step

IMHO this scene is essential in the romance route. I know some players wished there could be an option to romance him without sleeping with him, and I perfectly understand why. Realizing that he might have not be totally into it is painful. It’s uncomfortable. I also understand that if the PC is demi-sexual/ace, it makes the romance road a bit awkward. And it’s a valid feeling.

You can romance him without sleeping with him as Karlach origin, and that's because it's Karlach. The tension arises from the fact she can’t and wants it so much (for good reasons), whereas Astarion can and wants it somehow (for questionable reasons). That road is specific to them both because they are a mirroring one another.

Karlach aside, the thing is that in terms of narrative growth and storyline, this first night is the starting point of his healing journey. For the first time in 200 years, he has sex in a safe environment. For the first time, he finds a partner who trusts him enough to sleep with him even though they know he’s a vampire who could bite them. For the first time in his existence he can have real fun while having sex, he can be silly and roll on the ground. And maybe during this moment, he’s no longer the “sexy vampire” but just a man frolicking in the forest with someone he's attracted to. And again, it's still his decision, no matter how "bad" his motivations are. We should give him some credit.

I think it’s a brave move from Larian to put the players in that situation, to make them face the harsh reality of trauma. The harsh reality of being with someone who has such complicated feelings towards sex because of their trauma. It’s real. Very real. And it feels good to be seen.

You don’t always know the past of your sexual partners. You don’t always know what’s in their mind when you’re sleeping together. And if you happen to learn the harsh truth, it stings.

The Act 2 confession wouldn't be such a powerful scene without the first night. Astarion wouldn't have appeared so brave. Telling the PC about his former motivations must have been incredibly difficult, telling them "I wanted it but wasn't really into it" is freaking brave, and it's a token of trust he gives to the PC. Without that first night, it would have fallen flat. The PC would have just felt some kind of pride for not falling for his flirting and...that's it. Good, have a medal. Instead, the narrative puts the PC in an uncomfortable position, asking them: "Can you accept that? Because that's what trauma looks like and it's ugly."

That first night is inherent to Astarion's storyline, and to its message. That man goes from someone whose only reason to exist is being a sensual, sexual being in a cruel environment - someone who cannot connect with others without sex - to a man who finds out that he’s more than that, that sex doesn’t have to be dangerous, that’s it’s so much more than a game of power. And when you compare his grandiloquent attitude during that first night to his behaviour in the graveyard scene, it’s even more telling.

Those two scenes need to exist side by side to make sense, to reveal the evolution.

Everything about him in the graveyard scene - his body language, the look in his eyes, his voice - is a reversed image of that first night. He’s at peace, he doesn’t have to use those stupid lines about “mutual ecstasy” and how he will “taste you”, he doesn’t look down on the PC or look away. He looks into their eyes and tells them with his own words that he’d love to have sex with them.

But you have to experience both situations for the graveyard one to be so powerful. To witness that beautiful evolution. And Astarion too; he has to experience a “not so real” night with the PC to know that he wants something real with them.

It makes it all the more meaningful and sweeter. And imo, the graveyard scene is so freaking hot! Much more than that first night! Because it's genuine. It’s simple. He knows what he wants, his motivations are clear. It’s a man telling his lover “I want you”. A man who's learning to decipher what he really wants and to express it. And it’s more than enough.

[Let’s be honest, it’s been quite challenging to write all this. I rarely talk about my past online (for obvious reasons) and this scene means so much to me. Analysing it feels a little bit like analysing myself. And if you ever went through therapy, you know how hard it is xD In any case, that’s still my pov, based on my personal experience. I don’t pretend I hold the keys to a universal truth about it. We all have our own experience and sensibilities, and all of them are valid, even if we don’t agree in our interpretations.]

Thank you again @rivereverie for giving me the opportunity to dig into all this. I hope my humble opinion will help.

Last thing, some time ago I wrote a short fic about Astarion’s preparing himself for that first night, and it’s here.

[remxedmoon]

You should tell us about color psychology that sounds cool as hell

YES… HA HA HA… YES!

GGGOD I WISH I WASN’T OUT OF THE HOUSE RIGHT NOW. but i’ve been thinking about colors literally all day so you all get to be subject to my madness! sorry this is long and rambly wauaua. nightmarishly long post under the cut.

okay. first things first, a few basics. color theory and color psychology tend to get confused a lot in discussions, but they usually refer to different things. color theory is more about we physically perceive colors (color wheels and color schemes the like), while color psychology focuses on our emotional response to colors. if you’re familiar with the children’s hospital color theory post, that poster wasn’t actually talking about color theory, but color psychology (and also it’s incredibly surface level and heavily misunderstands the subject because in what fucking universe does the quantity of positive associations with a color matter more than the context it’s used in and sorry i have personal beef with this tumblr post).

color theory is also a special interest of mine but i’m not gonna touch on it too much here because it’s not entirely important. mmmaybe another time…

essentially, certain colors (and color combinations) have associations in our brains and that affect our behavior and emotions. these associations are also very much affected by the context a color is used in. colors don’t exist in a vacuum! so while red can symbolize passion and love when used in something like a dress or a bouquet of flowers, it has a very different connotation when it’s, say, splattered on the walls or smeared on the ground in a snail trail.

or for a less Children’s Hospital Themed example, i’ll put my euphrasie and king designs here!

(of course the saturation and brightness of these blues play a massive part in how they’re perceived but this is not a post about color theory this is n)

and, of course, combining colors in a piece can also change their meanings!! i’m about to get real fucking normal.

i’m gonna be focusing on the color combo of red and yellow here because it’s the one that’s most relevant to my art (and also it’s really interesting.) basically, seeing these two colors together activates the part of our brain that controls our appetite, making us actually feel hungry. this is why so many food companies use red and yellow in their branding! it’s neat stuff!!

also, if you’re familiar with it, this is why the mv for butcher vanity uses this color palette!! along with red’s general associations with danger and blood, the color combo also physically induces hunger. pretty fitting for a song about cannibalism!

(there is also red’s association with lust and passion and how that intersects with the double meaning in the lyrics but i cannot derail this post into being an analysis of butcher vanity i’m sorry. we’d be here all week. maybe another day... wipes a tear from my eye)

and i think this might be the reason why some people feel hungry when they see my art, even when i’m not drawing food. while i don’t tend to use red outright, most of my art has very warm undertones (red-oranges and yellows especially), which could be activating that hunger response??

(ah fuck color theory managed to weasel its way into this post again)

admittedly this part is just speculation on my end. i think my rendering style and Shapes also play a role in it, but it’s interesting for me to think about!!

this is only scratching the surface of how complicated colors can get. i was going to go on an entire tangent about color grading and how green lighting can make a scene feel unnerving but this post is already Too Fucking Long. aaaa super sorry if this is Rambly or hard to understand!! i’m not Entirely sure how much the average person knows about color theory and psychology so if there’s any confusing terms here i’m fine with adding stuff for clarity!

wauauuaa thank you so much for asking!!!! i love talking about colors.

tl;dr colors have a bunch of different emotions and meanings tied to them, but you’ve gotta pay attention to the context in which it’s being used. so maybe take a step back before you put that thick red trail on the floor of your children’s hospital.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 29

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.

“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 

Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.

Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 

Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 

Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 

After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 

“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 

“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”

You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”

“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”

“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 

Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”

You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 

“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 

“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 

Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 

“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 

“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 

“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 

“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 

“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”

You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 

“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”

Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 

“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 

“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 

“You’d really let me do that?”

“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 

“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 

When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 

“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 

“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 

You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 

He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”

Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 

“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 

Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”

“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 

The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 

“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 

“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 

“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”

Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 

“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 

“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”

“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”

“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”

“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 

Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 

“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 

Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 

“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 

Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 

“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 

The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 

“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”

“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”

“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”

The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 

“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”

“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”

You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 

You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 

But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.

“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.

His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 

There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 

“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 

“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 

“Herd?” You whispered. 

“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 

“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 

Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 

“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 

“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 

The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 

“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 

“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 

“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”

The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 

You were so close to being a mother. 

But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 

You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 

“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 

“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 

“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 

“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 

“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”

The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”

“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 

“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 

“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”

You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 

“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 

Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 

“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 

“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 

“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”

“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 

“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 

“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 

“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.

You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 

“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”

You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”

“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 

“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.

“The baby is crowning!” 

Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”

“The head will be out soon.” 

“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”

“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”

“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.

You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 

“The head is out!” 

Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 

“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”

“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 

Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 

You gasped. “Daryl.”

The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”

“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.

Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.

“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 

“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”

Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”

Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 

“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”

“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.

“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.

“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”

“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”

You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.

The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 

“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.

“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”

“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 

Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”

You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 

“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”

“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.

“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”

You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.

“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 

You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.

“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”

You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.

He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.

You could do this.

When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 

The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 

“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 

“Doc—”

The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.

“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.

Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.

“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

[lis-likes-fics]

Perfection

Pairings: Spencer Reid x bau!adhd!Reader Word Count: 2.6k words Warnings: Mentions of rape, mentions of murder, dead body, crime scene, descriptions of gore, typical Criminals Minds stuff, character with ADHD, mentions of medication... A/N: This is a little more self-indulgent than I meant for it to be, but I do want to point out that this is some of my experience with ADHD, so I'm not just writing random stuff. It is slightly exaggerated, but I also say that about everything I do and it is pointed out that this is based off an off day.

The long alleyway makes for a nice crime scene, specifically because, despite the busy streets of this city, it's secluded and easy to overlook. It's not too small that the police team cannot fit, but it's small enough that you couldn't cram a really small building into the space. You don’t know how that’s relevant, but somehow it is.

The scene is relatively fresh, the latest of three that brought the BAU to the case. The police handling the scene had it cleared off for you, Spencer, and Derek to examine, via Hotch’s orders.

Spencer's watching you because he loves watching you, and because you're a little off today. There's something about the way you shuffle on your feet or the way you chew on the dead skin of your lip that he finds peculiar. To be fair, you're like this a lot, but today your symptoms are more obvious than usual.

Your eyes scan over the scene with a million different thoughts rushing through your head, less than fifty percent of them actually coherent and fit for conversation.

The three of you spitball ideas back and forth as you look at the man laying cold on the concrete. He's white, lean with light hair and a relatively thin frame. He's nothing like the other two victims, who's physical profiles were all over the place. The only thing they have in common with one another is a single occupation—male prostitution. While this and the first worked on the streets, the second’s job actually took place within a gay strip club a few blocks away from here.

He's got a starting blow to the back of the head, like the other two, and a number of bad bruising and heavy brutality to the rest with overkill to the chest, hands, and genitals. The message feels clear, but there's something a little off.

“Judging by the position of the body,” you speak, your hands restless, “and the way the weapon is discarded, I think our unsub snuck up on our victim in a blitz attack, hit him with the lead pipe, and ran that way.”

You don't point in any particular direction. Spencer glances up from his spot crouched next to the body. Your eyes are stuck on the bloody pipe several feet away from the body toward the secluded area around the back of the building that leads to more secluded walkways through more alleyways.

There is a long pause where they wait for you to explain, but you never do. Spencer thinks you look far off as he examines your face. Derek looks at you, his brow furrowed as he glances around. “Which way?”

“What?” you hum, looking up at him.

Derek elaborates, “Which way did the unsub go?”

It’s your turn to furrow your brow, turning the thin ring on your middle finger. “Did I say something about the unsub?”

Spencer stands, moving over to your side without spending too much time looking at your face. He doesn't want you to feel dumb or awkward, because he loves you and you're just a little forgetful sometimes.

“Yes,” he says in no particular way. “You said the unsub blitzed the victim and ran. Which way did he run?”

He achieves his goal, because you seem to make an “Oh, duh!” face before pointing in the direction of the street. “That way.”

He follows your finger, his brows knitting together. “That way toward the street?” He looks at the pipe, sitting in the exact opposite direction, like they ran and dropped it. “The pipe looks like he'd run the other way to avoid the street. Why do you think he ran toward?” It's a genuine question.

“To throw us off,” you shrug. “It's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.”

He hums. You add on, speaking as quickly as Spencer usually does, “It also means he looks normal enough that he blends in with the crowd. Someone would see a strange figure coming out of a dark alley, no one would really notice a passerby turning a corner. And if this is a popular spot, it's too loud to hear anything going on all the way back here anyway, or no one thinks much of grunting noises when they do hear it.”

You trail off at the end, tight brows staring at the corpse. Derek shrugs, “But what was our victim doing all the way over here in the first pla–”

“There's something in his mouth,” you interrupt accidentally.

“What?”

You kneel down, taking the offered gloves from Spencer and putting them on. You open his mouth just a slight, spotting the white sticking out from under his tongue. Upon seeing it, both of the boys furrow their brows and tilt their heads. Spencer hands you some tweezers he'd borrowed from forensics for this reason.

Carefully, without disturbing the body as much as possible, you remove the strange object from under the tongue. It's a tiny slip of paper, folded up very small and still a little damp from saliva and any other bodily fluids it may have come in contact with. You unfold it.

“‘Unclean’,” Spencer reads from over your shoulder.

“That makes sense for the victimology mixed with the profile. He's a male prostitute,” Derek points out.

“Which explains the locale,” you say, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“What?”

“The locale,” you look up. “You asked why he was here. He must have been working, lured down here by the unsub, who waited for him to turn his back before he struck.”

Spencer agrees, taking a picture of the slip to send to Hotch. “He was killed at night. The streets are crowded, easy to slip into and not be seen. It's more risky to stray by yourself. What you said makes sense.”

You look up at him, standing to your full height again. “What did I say?” There you go again.

Morgan speaks up, “What you said about him runnin’ toward the street.”

Confusion passes your mind momentarily. “He ran toward the street.” You don't say it like a question, you say it like you're trying to back yourself up on it.

“That's what you said,” he insists.

You remember thinking that, but you don't remember saying that out loud.

Spencer swoops in like your hero, brushing his knuckles against the side of your arm. “Remember? You said,” he licks his lips, “ ‘it's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.’ ”

You nod, remembering his word-by-word recitation as you watch him. “Yeah. I did say that.” You flag down one of the forensics workers to bag the evidence. She does so, taking your contaminated gloves with her as she leaves. You squirt a hefty amount of hand sanitizer on your hands from its place on your belt loop. “This is the first victim who's been left behind with a note, right?”

“Yes, autopsy results found nothing like this on the other victims.”

“If the victim was working when he was attacked, it’s possible that, paired with the brutality of the assault and the note left behind, our unsub may be experiencing some kind of internalized homophobia.” You trail off at the end.

Derek shrugs, looking down at the body. “There’s no evidence of sexual assault. Not on the other victims, at least.”

“How old do you think this building is?”

Spencer looks at you, your eyes scanning the wall of one of the buildings you’re between. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, picking at the dead skin again. He thinks you’re cute.

“Focus, honeybun,” Derek reminds you, pulling your attention again.

“Sorry.”

“Judging by the faded color and uneven edges of the brick, and the decay in the mortar,” Spencer says, “I’d say this building is at least 50 years old. Well kept at one point and then let go not long after its production.”

You nod along slowly, taking in the information with a hum. “That’s cool…” Now that that’s out of your mind, you think for a moment. What were you saying again? Spencer watches your eyes light up. “Oh!” You turn to Derek. “He’s obviously confrontational, but he may still be very insecure in his ability and, thus, have to make up for his pent up energy with an excess of violence. Homophobia would explain the obliteration of the chest, hands, and especially the genitalia.”

Derek raises a brow. “What?”

“You asked about sexual assault,” you shrug. “If he continues to escalate above the note, we may see these words carved into the skin as a substitute for sexual violence, or even just blatant rape activity.”

Derek thinks about that, considering your analysis with a nodding head. He sighs and hums, “Alright, I’ll talk to Hotch.” He begins to turn away, grabbing his phone.

Spencer thinks you may have gotten distracted again because you ask, “Did I do something wrong?”

Derek looks back at you, shaking his head and flashing you one of his charming smiles. “No, honeybun, you’re perfect.”

“Oh.”

He leaves to take that call. You start to walk after him and Spencer gently takes your hand. You turn to face him, confused at first but giving him a sweet smile only a second later. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his voice soft.

You tilt your head, “What do you mean?”

Spencer shrugs, taking your other hand just to rub his thumbs over your knuckles. “You’re hyper today, a little more distracted.”

As if proving his point, you begin shifting back and forth on your feet, shrugging and then shaking your head at the same time. “I’m okay,” you assure him, squeezing his hands gently. “I haven’t taken my medication in a couple days.”

He furrows his brow, suddenly a little worried. “Why not?”

“Didn’t feel like it. Also, I forgot it.” That makes sense. Spencer makes a mental note to remind you to take them as soon as you get back home. “But I’m okay, prommy.”

He smiles. “Prommy?”

“Promise,” you clarify, letting both your hands down so you can swing his from side to side. He lets you.

“I know what you mean,” he says. Though he knows he should probably be more professional because you’re both in public and leaving a crime scene (and Hotch might reprimand the both of you for it if he saw) he raises a hand to cradle your cheek because he doesn’t care. He just wants you to feel safe and loved. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod definitely. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” The way he says it is soft, as soft as a kiss to your forehead or a brush of his knuckles on your skin. “You know, I love you, right?”

You nod, smiling at him like he’s the world—because he is. “Yeah. I love you, too, honey.” You kiss his cheek quickly and pat it. You probably shouldn’t have done it right then, but you did, and you don’t regret it for even a moment.

Spencer’s just happy you know he loves you. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go before Morgan leaves us.” He takes your hand as you both begin walking. He swings your joined hands, just as he knows you like it.

“He wouldn’t leave me,” you shake your head. “He likes me too much.”

Spencer chuckles. “Everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone.”

He looks at you, furrowing his brow. “Who doesn’t like you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. And then immediately after, “Why does the sun look yellow? Isn��t it supposed to be white or something? I heard that somewhere.”

Spencer is happy to answer your questions as he opens the car door for you. Derek is already sitting in the front, his hands on the wheel. The passenger’s seat is empty, but Spencer sits in the back with you. You both speak gently so you’re not disturbing Derek. “The Earth’s atmosphere scatters blue light more efficiently than red light, so the slight deficit in blue light means the eye perceives the color of the sun as yellow. But, yes, the sun is actually white.”

“That’s cool,” you mumble. “I think sharks would look cool as hell with piercings. Do you?”

“I do,” Spencer chuckles. In the front seat, Derek shakes his head and smiles to himself, amused by your conversation.

“Did you know that sharks don’t have bones, so when they die, the saltwater dissolves their bodies so the only thing that’s left is their teeth?” You begin ranting, absent-mindedly picking at dirty under your nails. “And also, their bodies are primarily made of cartilage and connective tissue. It’s lighter than bone and keeps them flamboyant. Also, their skin has a similar feel to sandpaper.”

When you ramble, you sound like Spencer. You spend so much time with him and endorse his info dumps so much that you take on his speech style when you go on info dumps of your own. Spencer loves this because he knows that people tend to mimic the people they love as a sign of affection, and you mimic him a lot more than you think.

He also knew about all your shark facts, but he’s happy to listen. He smiles, “Is that what you were doing up late last night?”

You smile a little, turning away from him. “I got distracted.”

“What’s your thought process behind getting from the sun to sharks?” he wonders. “I’m curious.”

You shrug. “Well, you said your thing and I said it was cool. And then I remembered a post I saw that sharks would be cool with piercings. Then I remembered my shark things.” You glance down at your fingers, bringing them to your lips as you notice a tiny part at the very edge of the nail where it would probably tear off. “I just think sharks are cool,” you mumble around your finger.

“They are cool,” he says. He doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself so he adds on, “Will you hold my hand? It’s a little cold.”

You look down at them, “Yeah.” With a nod, you take his hand between both of yours and let them warm his back up. They’re a bit chilly but they don’t feel that cold to you. You hold them anyway, because you love holding his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his and then cover what’s left.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says. He thinks for a moment. “Did you eat today?”

You nod, still watching his hand as you turn it to look at his palm. You gently trace the lines of it, forgetting for the moment that he’d wanted you to warm his hand up for him. But, as usual, he doesn’t mind. “I had a cereal bar this morning. One of those Coco Puff ones. They’re like Rice Krispy Treats.” He doesn’t think that’s sustainable. “And, before you ask, I did have water.”

He smiles. “I know. I told you to drink some before we left. You hungry?”

You shake your head, “Not really.”

“You want a snack?” he compromises, hoping—and knowing—you’ll say yes.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” he hums. “We’ll grab one on the way back.” Derek nods gently, remembering to do just that. It will only take a moment.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer says, his voice lowering to a whisper. He knows Derek can still hear him, but he always just wants to whisper to you.

You look up at him, “For what?”

“Being so perfect.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately smiling at the warmth in your chest. “You’re so cheesy, Spencer Reid.”

He’ll gladly be cheesy for you.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 Tag yourself here...

[gb-patch]

Sorry to send another ask amongst the sea I'm sure you're receiving, but I find myself more concerned about Rose being a sensitivity reader as I find more information. One of Rose's friends continues to insist that the conversation about Tamarack and male MCs was part of a larger discussion about biphobia in the fandom. However, they claim that Rose's position is "people erase Tam's bi/pansexuality by refusing to portray [her] as being attracted to anything other than men." This explanation of Rose's belief is, in-and-of-itself, biphobic. It claims that portraying Tamarack as attracted to men erases her queerness. This is textbook biphobia and bi-erasure that I as a bisexual encounter every day. It is NOT a good-faith defense of a queer character. It reduces us down to our partners and makes the claim that if we end up in a relationship that's "straight-passing," we're erasing our queerness. Especially as a bi sapphic myself, it reduces my identity strictly to the perceived-man I'm dating, and not my inner or previous experiences, or those of my partner. It's very uncomfortable that Rose, a non-bisexual, was discussing this like they're defending Tamarack's queerness when they're doing the opposite.

This is a doubly strange position when Our Life is a game about the acceptance of love in all its forms. The conversation could be different, MAYBE, if Our Life was a TV show or a book or a comic. But this is a game where people are meant to play as characters of their own design. I do not feel confident about Rose being a sensitivity reader for a game with bi/pansexual love interests if these are their beliefs about bi/pansexuality, particularly if they're unable to adapt their opinions to be relevant to different formats of media; this shows they're lacking in skill in the areas of media literacy and critical thinking.

I’ve been trying to make a post that presents the concerns people have about this, but your ask touches on the points I was going to, and I’d say it’s better to have it said by a player than me deciding what people are thinking. So, this is something that I want to make clear- that I see this and other asks/comments about it. What you’ve said is something a lot of people are unsure and upset about. I am sorry that you feel so out of place in this community now. And I am also sorry to players of any sexuality who use a male MC. That comment dismissed players and Tamarack’s identity.

It did come from a longer discussion about bi-phobia issues. The overall feelings were “if people did only want Tamarack to be interested in men, I really wouldn’t like that and wouldn’t it be a funny concept if Tamarack then left them for a woman?”. The comment itself didn’t encompass that idea at all. It does not give a good impression about where they’re coming from. It was unkind.

The viewpoint Rose is trying to have isn’t that “Tamarack can never express an interest in men” which would be wrong, it’s “I stand by the fact that Tamarack is someone who wouldn’t only be interested in men and no one else”. If it’s true that Rose likes Tamarack being interested in all genders and doesn’t want her bi-ness to be forgotten, I’d say that’s an acceptable view. If the point actually is that Tamarack should only be with women and if she’s not than Tamarack is no longer bi or she’s a bad character, then you're right- that isn't acceptable and that is going to get someone removed from the project. I do believe Rose agrees with what you’re saying and means it when they say they want to stop bi-erasure, not participate in it for real. But they had a very harsh way of talking about it.

I understand that people don’t know Rose and this situation has made them believe they do seriously hold that first view. But from working with them, there’s never been any feedback that shows an opinion of the sort.

Right now, I think that comment was being edgy and making a quick, very poorly-worded quip to people they’d been chatting with about that topic already. Rose has left the GB Patch discord servers, they used to be a mod, and may or may not ever be back in there. Rose won’t make blog posts responding to players going forward. They’re going to take a break from this and then try to give helpful feedback. We’re going to see if things can be okay from here.

And with this coming up, we’re all really aware that it’s something to consider about the game. I’m going to be as conscious as I can for any advice that seems to go against the character’s identities and I’m going to question my own knee-jerk choices for how I handle things. Other sensitivity readers will be able to give their viewpoints as well, so will the players. If the game’s content isn’t welcoming or is biased people will notice, and I’ll be here to accept what I’ve done. I don’t want that to be the result of this, of course. I hope the game will be thoughtful and considerate, but I can’t fire Rose at this point to try doing that.

No one has to keep following the game, though. I’m sympathetic to anyone who is too uncomfortable with all this to stay around.

[k-tarotz]

PICK A CARD; Your & Your F/O’s Dynamic

PILE ONE PILE TWO PILE THREE

hii and welcome to this pick a card! 🫶🏻 it will be a reading related to your fictional other! if that’s not your thing remember to not judge, everyone has different interests. that being said, if you are unsure how to pick a pile take a deep breath and choose the one your eyes first landed on, or the one you feel most drawn to. have fun and thank you for participating.

F/o reading | Kpop reading | personal reading | masterlist

PILE ONE

the sun, nine of pentacles, six of pentacles

so right of the bat this is someone who genuinely adores you a lot. they love the way you laugh, dress and carry yourself. they have a deep sense of love and adoration for you! not a single thing they don’t like about you.

they see you as the sun. the brightest, best thing in their life that they cannot live without. it doesn’t matter it you are a gloomy person, or not as positive as you could be. they will see only the good in you, never focus on your faults. they have a really high sense of love and adoration for you and nothing can change that. in their eyes you can do no harm, and that stays like that, most probably forever.

they would also most probably love to spoil you rotten, whatever you want is yours because they will get it for you in a heartbeat. they won’t accept a no. for some of you, your f/o could be really rich so they have no problem spending money on you. for another half of the group this is someone who doesn’t have a lot but is an insanely hardworking person and will do anything to provide you comfort.

they love you too much to just sit and watch you daydream about the things you could have. they are very action oriented and it will show in your relationship. there is also a possibility they aren’t good with words but they for sure will love you so much EVERYONE will know it. even strangers.

they love you dearly and would never ask for anyone else in their life, to them you are like a sweet summer song on a warm night under the stars. something that is impossible to forget.

this dynamic mainly sun x moon, but there is also a really strong power dynamic here. neither one of you less than the other but both having different roles. i don’t think theres a specific name for this one but the vibe is ‘would give up the world for them x not used to affection but secretly loving it’

some of you might be very shy receiving so much love and affection because you aren’t used to it or have never been loved this way before but this would only motivate your person further to love you deeply and show it to you everyday, let that be with big or small actions.

channeled messages: “ I love you, my dearest “, “ I wouldn’t mind dying in your arms”, “Do you love me like I love you?”, “Catch me before I fall”, “Wether you are 20 or a 200 years old I love you regardless”, “Summer Time Sadness”

other things that might be relevant:

ice, distance, natto?, orange, laces, black, aesthetics, gold, music/singing, fashion, pool (pool parties for some), king

PILE TWO

judgment, hermit, the world

this one is soooo cute! with all due respect, each pile is insanely cute, but this one is especially sweet. your f/o could be a person that has a hard time opening up to people and could be labeled as a cold person even if they are not. so, ultimately a misunderstood person.

regardless of that they do have a hard time with affection, as i have already said~ they could push people away on purpose and hurting them before getting hurt themselves. now with you this would change. no matter what happens and what they do you just keep loving them without needing a specific reason. you just love them for themselves without any bad intentions and it’s so new to them and they love it so much they just want to be around you all the time and they get so overwhelmed with this feeling they aren’t quite sure how to react to it but before they realise it they fell in love already.

you fell first, they fell harder. way harder. they love you so much they feel like their heart can jump out of their chest at any minute.

since we have the hermit & the world card together it is also very possible that you are their first and last love. (even if they are written to have romantic interest in the show.. it does not matter.)

however don’t be mistaken though, they do have a very ‘fuck it, i am going to love you on purpose’ energy. they want you to know that they love you, are in love with you and that it’s not because of some accident or uncontrollable force but they adore you for the person you are. for the things you do, for the way you talk and because you are you. they love everything about you, even your habits. they find it very endearing.

once they are comfortable accepting the fact that they are in love with you they will be very affectionate with you. let that be cuddling, holding you on their lap (or vise versa, whatever you prefer), kissing you, defending you even when they know you are wrong but correcting you in private, helping you cook, doing the things you have no energy for or whatever makes you feel loved they will do it. you won’t have to tell them. they are attentive and always pay attention to you. they adore you more than you could ever imagine.

channeled messages: “Please don’t cry for me”, “I love you the most”, “Don’t take your eyes of me”, “Theres a million worlds where I love you and I would destroy each one where I don’t if I had the power”

other things that might be relevant:

white cat, car, hell (??), tent, snake, help, healing crystals (?), bites, tags (?), spices, red, power

PILE THREE

queen of swords, nine of swords, four of pentacles

alright so for your person you are someone very healing, maybe not intentionally but you heal them in ways no one could ever do before and they adore you so much for it. you give them more perspective in life and teach them things they wouldn’t have been able to think about before. this could be views on life or specific things. definitely related to how different you two are as people, but in a good way.

do you know that saying? “i can change them” well you actually can, and it’s really cute.

they could be someone that is known as a powerful but morally not correct character, or perhaps just have a personal growth arc. well, with you they would have this not only faster but better. i am not saving that you would be their saviour and they cannot live without you, but that’s kind of the energy here.

maybe at first you wouldn’t be willing to get together or like them? either way, they would want your approval a lot, straight from the get go. they look up to you like to no other and want to be someone you approve of. they have this deep desire for your love. so they would naturally change themselves for the better.

i know some people look at change as a negative thing so i would like to say: they wouldn’t force their personality or anything of the sort to change, but rather their morals/principles and the way they view life. ultimately they would have more understanding and love in their heart because of you. they would want to see the world from your eyes, understanding what you think and why you do the things you do.

they view you as someone deserving of their love, their trust and such. you would be one of, if not the only, people they show their vulnerable side to. you are a diamond in a rough in their eyes.

you are also someone they wish to protect with all their might and will, they could be very possessive over you. (though not in a toxic way.)

channeled messages: “come with me”, “kiss me just one time”, “they might leave but i will never leave you”, “ i understand, you don’t have to say a word”

things that might be relevant:

royal, river, tenten (?), kelp, yoyo, yagami (death note), bandages, fire torches, silver, rings, sunlight

thank you for participating

- Candy

[siggiedraws]

I like your essay but does it really irk you if Sonic is Ever portrayed differently even somewhat in other media? He can still have great character even if it doesn't always fit your ideal for it

Thank you, I'm glad you like my essay! My response to this will be quite long-winded, so bear with me.

I am not oblivious to how irrational it may come across for me to essentially admit I dislike all different interpretations of Sonic. But personally speaking, if I am to be completely honest with myself, yes, it does irk me. Their differences almost always compromise Sonic’s appeal, making them unlikeable to me.

My question is, if you are going to remove what makes pre-existing material so special in an adaptation, why is it even an adaptation of pre-existing material? This is a rhetorical question; I know the answer is purely due to cynical marketability reasons. Media is almost guaranteed to generate money if it features a popular, recognizable character. For obvious reasons, I do not think prioritizing marketability over artistic integrity is a good thing that should be defended or encouraged.

My argument is simple: Is it possible for a different interpretation of Sonic to be a good character? Sure, in a vacuum. You can replace any beloved character in fiction with Sonic instead by doing nothing but slapping some blue spikes on it and calling it a day.

My issue is that wouldn't make it a good interpretation of Sonic the Hedgehog because there is no reason for it to be Sonic.

I feel that now is a good time to finally talk about this.

My wariness of divergences in Sonic adaptations, is in part, based in the knowledge that the people at Sonic Team had their creative vision completely disrespected and dismissed overseas.

(SOURCE) - Yasushi Yamaguchi's Twitter

(SOURCE) - Masato Nishimura's Twitter

(SOURCE)

(SOURCE)

(SOURCE)

Sonic Team had no say or power in how Sonic was depicted in the U.S. In some cases, they had no idea that changes were even made until they were told by someone.

There is this distinct sense of cultural superiority coming from Sega of America. Did you know that Sega of America considered Sonic's design "unsalvageable" and insisted it needed to be changed? Did you know that Sega of America tried to "educate" Sega of Japan at character design because they saw them as incompetent at designing good characters?

(SOURCE)

Yes, this is primarily about Sonic's design being "too Japanese." This is corroborated in Sonic the Hedgehog Gametap Retrospective.

As an artist, it is really devastating to hear this story. Putting myself in Sonic Team's shoes yields nothing but sorrow. This flagrant disrespect towards artists' creative visions is odious to me.

Now compound this with the fact that Sonic has had a consistent lack of fidelity in adaptations since he was created, especially in the West, and I hope you can see my perspective here.

To go back to my initial topic on Sonic's characterization, I think that my position can come across unreasonable if you are a person who does not feel particularly strongly one way or another about it. It is completely fine to feel this way. Everyone can enjoy media however they please. For the vast majority of media I consume, I do not pay nearly as much attention and devotion to character consistency.

Sonic is different.

Sonic as a character is extremely important to me. He has gotten me through many hard times in my life and he continues to endlessly inspire me. Whenever I am faced with a tough situation, I hear Sonic’s voice in my head, encouraging me to be strong. Encouraging me to do my best. Encouraging me to keep living. Sonic is my favourite fictional character of all time. He means so much to me that it’s impossible to put into words.

I don’t want to get too emotional here, but I believe that a character like Sonic should continue to propagate and stay culturally relevant because I think kids nowadays really deserve a character like that in their lives. How he is characterized and used in the narrative in Sonic media really matters. There are Tailses in the world who need to learn how to be confident. There are Blazes in the world who need to learn how to accept help. There are Elises in the world who need to learn to let go of the responsibilities that burden them. There are Shahras in the world who struggle from having been in abusive relationships. And there are Merlinas in the world who are afraid of death. These people would benefit from a positive figure to guide them out of dark places.

My feelings about Sonic are far from an anomaly. See an excerpt from this artwork by sludgetoons, in response to this video essay:

"This one fucking video finally has made me realize WHAT Sonic is to me. he's my hero he's my inspiration hell hes a role model yes but none of those terms ever felt right to place onto this character that is so beautifully painted to be this characters free from the shackles of humanity and a need to be "relatable". He's not a hero or a role model, hes a DIRECTION. Sonic himself is an impossible goal to reach as a person, but just trying to live my life in a way that is free, appreciating the world that is around me, exploring and climbing and running and rebelling, lending a hand where I can but understanding ultimately im free to do as I please and I owe no one anything as they owe me nothing. as long as i am FOLLOWING him in those big footprints those red sneakers leave I am becoming a better version of myself. The goal is not to become Sonic, that's impossible. But by ignoring that impossibility and pushing on anyways I still WONT become Sonic. but I'll inadvertently become this better version of myself.

There's no way I can explain it properly how much this character means to me. When I picked up the pencil to draw for the first time it was because I thought he looked cool and inspired me and I wanted to replicate that magic. When I was feeling trapped in my past relationship and thought I had no say in what was happening to me his voice was in my head telling me this wasn't right and that "I could do anything". Start of 2024 I found myself asking "what would sonic do" more often than ever and 2024 was the best year of my entire fucking life. I couldn't give a fuck if it makes me seem insane he made who who I am and I love myself and I hope someday somehow, in another time or space, I can meet him just to say thank you."

This is just someone spilling their heart out on the internet about how much they love Sonic. It has over 9,000 likes at the time of this post.

I do not like different interpretations of Sonic.

None of them inspire power in others quite like this.

[othertalearchive]

Othertale Asks

(This is not all the asks, just the ones I thought were important, funny, or relevant. More could possibly be added if I find any.)

OTHERTALE:

English isn’t youmna’s first language, she’s from Egypt.

Is Othertale Youmna’s story, or did someone else write it?

Is Othertale a comic that’s already out, or is it just going to be videos?

Caring Short is an extra scene.

When are you going to update Othertale?

Othertale is an alternate timeline, NOT an alternate universe.

Othertale is an AT, not an AU. There is no 7th soul. Sans is forgotten but not in Gaster’s position. And what funeral?

What did pre-core Gaster look like?

Refs for Othertale Chara & Frisk?

What kind of personality does othertale Frisk have?

Frisk doesn’t exist anymore.

Frisk was supposed to have a great role even though they no longer exist like Sans doesn’t.

Does Flowey exist, if the six souls don’t?

Who created Flowey in this timeline, Gaster or Alphys?

Chara falling down and Asriel’s creation into Flowey still happened.

Othertale monsters can’t break the barrier, but they still have hope.

Does Papyrus know he has a brother, does anyone know about Sans?

Where did Youmna get the idea for Othertale?

Is there a swap AU to othertale?

Is Othertale an animation? Comic?

Differences in Othertale vs Undertale bc of Sans & the souls erasure.

Othertale focuses on everyone.

After the Hack means season 2.

Who’s stronger: Othertale or Undertale Toriel, Asgore, and Flowey? Othertale MTT is stronger than Undertale MTT because he got his body earlier, Alphys main research was to turn monster souls into weapons since the human souls don’t exist, meaning MTT is more of a weapon than a famous star.

Corrupted!Chara.

Amalgamates don’t exist in Othertale.

Do Gaster, Chara, and Frisk exist?

Are there royal guards in Othertale?

Alphyne is canon, Soriel is not, Chara and Asriel happen as usual though youmna cannot say what happened after Chara and Asriel died.

Are Asgore and Toriel still married?

Is it okay to create an alternative version of Othertale?:

Dreemurr’s designs never changed from Undertale.

COLOR & THE SOULS:

Are the souls like MPD/DID for Color?

Color is stronger than Killer and Murder, Error will cause him problems.

Color’s views on canon NM according to rahafwabas: he hurt a lot of people, innocent people and aus, he hurt Killer the most, nightmare doesn’t deserve mercy.

Color is sure Killer will choose a new name someday, but thinks he just needs time. (Also canonically calls him buddy. :] )

Both Gaster and Sans are forgotten.

Are there hints in the Underground that Sans existed?

Like a mysterious sock?

Anyone can do what they want with Color.

Sans only has control over the game from the Void, which is how Undyne got out.

Did he die?

Color gets his name. (+ possible old peek of his soul.)

Color doesn’t like the idea of being shipped with someone he doesn’t know.

Bro doesn’t like the joke.

Explosive flames when he sneezes.

Color, Geno, & Seraphim as Pokemon evolution.

Flames take on longer colors when he has a characteristic trait.

Color’s okay with being a 2nd favorite.

Heya Color!

Is Gaster with you, C? (First use of C as a nickname)

C still loves ketchup.

Color prefers the Patience trait/soul because he cannot control his feelings and Patience calms him down.

Color is sad and looks sad all the time because Papyrus doesn’t remember him.

After absorbing the souls, does Sans feel different? He regrets what he did, and wishes he hadn’t, he misses the good old days at Grillby’s. He can still eat and sleep, but there is no time in the Void, no food, but hunger cues seem to have been taken away as well. He can’t really do anything but sleep anymore. Color has the ability to heal just about anything, except for the dead.

Does Color get headaches when looking at himself too long in the mirror?

Can I get a hug from Color!Sans?

Color!Sans 2C.

Why didn’t Sans get Gaster out? Why isn’t Gaster out yet?

UNDYNE & PAPYRUS:

How did she get the ability to teleport?

Undyne & Papyrus are siblings, Sans in the Void.

Undyne is Paps’ sister, is more responsible, and did not join the royal guard.

In the Royal Guard armor in trailer, didn’t join the Royal Guard.

Undyne would not be stronger than Color, though she has a portion of his powers.

Who is the big sibling?

How did Undyne get Determination?

Undyne can use Gaster Blasters.

Undyne’s “f” heart locket.

Does Papyrus have a necklace that says “best”?

Drawing of Undyne saying thank you.

Undyne drawing.

Are After the Hack Undyne’s stats the same, weaker than, or stronger than Undyne the Undying’s?

After the Hack Undyne is 3x stronger than Undyne the Undying.

Undyne has an important role in Othertale.

Undyne 1A.

Othertale Papyrus is weaker than Undertale Papyrus, he doesn’t have royal guard training and never aspired to join. Sage is nice and kind, but he works as a math teacher as he likes problem solving and children.

Since Papyrus doesn’t want to join the Royal Guard, what does he do? Does he have a job?

Undyne is youmna’s fav character.

Undyne reminds of the Underfell AU itself.

ATH Undyne looks like Underfell Undyne’s design.

How old are Undyne and Papyrus?

Undyne & Papyrus animation short sneak peek.

Undyne still likes anime and manga. She spends every weekend at home with Papyrus, waiting for Alphys to come over with a new anime.

Are the Gaster Blasters a special attack, or just a slightly more powerful regular attack?

1C Undyne.

Othertale meets Undertale Undyne. Ivory thinks lifting rocks is irresponsible and would never do that, is highly protective of Papyrus and describes him as the only person she cares about in this world. She can play piano, she cooks for her and Papyrus, and she and Papyrus watch the MTT show together.

Ivory would not like Undertale Undyne or troublemakers. Ivory is a lot more careful and cautious with new people.

Papyrus & Undyne live in the same house, in Snowdin.

What happened to Undyne’s parents? Did she have parents? Did they die?

HER:

Smiley face can be attributed to anyone, not just Chara.

Error!Undyne?

Have we met her in classic Undertale?

Is she Core!Frisk?

She could be the Player.

She is not Undyne or Chara.

She just wants fun.

Is she a specific person with a name?

She is the Player.

[cassylost-inspace]

The object show community has honestly become so unsafe and toxic. I’ve only been in the community for a year and a half ,but the difference between now and then is honestly drastic. People don’t even enjoy the media anymore, all everyone does is criticise. While criticizing is fine, I don't think a community should be based on that. I have barely seen ANY positive posts about the ii movie, everyone treats it like it's meant to be God tier and I get that everyone thinks they should get what they deserve, but holy shit you guys have nothing good to say. Shipping has also become such a difficult point of discussion in the community, considering that everyone believes that their ship and their ship ONLY is good. Most of the shipping stuff wasn't relevant to me, because I'm a multi-shipper but the fandom takes ship wars to an extreme,honesty speaking. Another point is the fact that people are mad at ii for making canon ships,, again this doesn't bother me,because I have always liked all of the popular ships but it's honestly not that deep. I think I've seen like a million posts about the payjay scene from ii 18,, and people got SO mad over fan service despite the fact that it was like 3 minutes long 😭 Another thing is, I haven't talked about c2bc on here b4, but Cole getting cancelled proved how fast the fandom is willing to act immediately on a show's downfall. "I never really liked the show" that's really not the point here. I feel like people should take the situation of cole being racist more seriously instead of just taking this as a chance to bash the show. Moving on,, I remember seeing a post of someone saying "how could you even cry to object shows,, they're so unserious" why do you care? Genuinely WHO is it hurting.Moreover people saying stuff like only "12 year olds watch object shows" is dumb; because have you ever been in a fandom before??Teenagers literally keep fandoms alive, also who DO you want to be in this community. My last point is how almost everyone acts like object shows are meant to be "amazing works of art",, like they literally started off as terrible. These shows are indie and run by an even amount of people, stop treating the shows like Hollywood. Reminder that these people can do WHATEVER they want with their characters. Animationepic is one of the most listening teams out there, they sacrifice a lot for their fans and I personally think that they're allowed to do anything they want with their characters especially since they put so much effort into what the fans want. As someone who uses object shows and animation in general as a way to escape reality,, it is evident that most of you do the same. So I don't understand why there is just SO MUCH negativity coming from the community,, when os fans are so clearly talented and instead of putting effort into being hateful they can use this energy to make art, amvs, maps and animation memes and help uplift the community and it's overall impact on others.

Ik I normally don't post stuff like this, but the osc is REALLY important to me and I feel like this should be brought to more people's attention.

-Cassy

[lassify]

Behind Test Subject 007: The Science of Anya’s Telepathy

Okay guys… I’m gonna come clean. I’ve had some scientific hypotheses brewing for a while now (not least to use in my fanfic, lol), but since we might be getting close to getting an Anya arc in the SxF manga, I figured that now was as good a time as any to actually try to arrange those theories in something resembling coherent and share them with you all. 

Disclaimer: I am not trying to position myself as an expert. I have studied Psychology and Cognitive Neuroscience at university level, so just for fun I ended up doing a ton of research on this, and I’ve got a lot to cover, so… wish me luck 😅 References will be embedded in the text!

Heads up that this is on the long side and complex as hell and my head physically hurts, so I’ll tackle it in sections:

Part 1: Psychology

My actual subject, but I’ll only skim over a couple of theories…

Part 2: Cognitive Neuroscience (Structural basis)

In which I will look at the individual brain areas which could be relevant to telepathy

Part 3: Cognitive Neuroscience (Functional basis)

In which I talk about how those brain areas communicate to each other

Part 4: Physics

I’ll admit, not my strongest subject, but I’ll mention a couple of theories which could be relevant

If you're ready for your brain to melt, feel free to keep reading...

Part 1: Psychology

There are 2 main theories in Psychology which could offer some explanation for Anya’s psychic abilities. 

Theory 1: Theory of Mind

In short, this describes a person’s capacity to understand other people. It is similar to sympathy or empathy, but actually it is the ability to understand that another person is different to ourselves, that they have their own desires, motivations, and thoughts, and that this is reflected in their behaviour. Even more importantly, it’s about being able to decode other’s mental states, whilst still being able to differentiate it from our own.

Any parent will know that it is a real effort to teach children about trying to understand other people’s perspectives: this is because children typically have an undeveloped Theory of Mind, and it is something that continues to develop even into adulthood. In adults, having a developed Theory of Mind helps us to understand other people’s perspectives, predict other people’s behaviour, and use both empathy and deception. 

Anya has a really strong Theory of Mind, which is actually so impressive for her young age. She understands the complex web of all the secrets: that Twilight is a spy, Yor is an assassin, Yuri is in the Secret Service, and Bond is precognisant. She also understands who knows what about each other, and how she can use all of this information to her advantage - those are some crazy cognitive skills!!

In terms of how this is related to telepathy, you could argue that someone with a strong Theory of Mind (like Anya) may be more likely to:

Understand that people have hidden feelings that they don’t show 

Demonstrate empathy for emotions 

Collate information about their likes and dislikes and past behaviour to predict future behaviour. 

If she is highly sensitive to these things, then it could look like telepathy (even if it isn’t). 

Theory 2: Hyperesthesia.

Many people will have heard of synesthesia, which is a synthesis of the senses to the extent that the sensory information overlaps, but hyperesthesia is about being highly sensitive to external stimuli of the senses such as sight, sound, taste, smell, and touch. 

I can imagine an overlap with Anya’s hyperesthesia and her Theory of Mind to pick up on the nuances of other people’s behaviour, to the extent that reading behaviour could inform the sensation of “reading minds”. 

In a science-fictional world like SxF we could imagine that hyperesthesia could stretch into the sense of extra-sensory perception, by being sensitive to the electromagnetic signals in other people’s brains (or even geomagnetic - more on that in Part 4). From this, it is possible that Anya could “read” people’s minds through deciphering the electromagnetic waveforms that people’s brains might project (more on deciphering brainwaves in Part 3…). 

Part 2: Cognitive Neuroscience - Structural Basis

I think we can all agree that Anya’s telepathic powers would largely be supported by the specific structures of her brain, especially given that Endo has already dropped hints of neuroscience in the manga, and we know that he’s very much interested in accurately depicting psychology and neuropsychology in his story. 

The best way to encourage certain brain areas to develop is by doing exercises and tasks which would use that part of the brain repeatedly: for example, consistent gymnastics practice would enhance the cerebellum, the centre of balance and motor coordination. But, I can picture the experimenters in SxF trying something a lot less… humane.

Like, experimental neurosurgery. 

For example, theoretically, they could artificially enhance certain brain areas by using a neural growth factor serum (this doesn’t exist in real life, but let’s indulge the science fiction elements for a second), and, theoretically, if the experimenters used glycoproteins as the serum’s main content (like laminins and netrins), they could control the pace and direction of neurons growing in a brain, choosing to focus on cellular growth in certain areas. Then, they would be able to view the activity of the targeted areas using functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI), and measure it with electroencephalography (EEG, see Part 3 for more on this).

If Anya ever had experimental neurosurgeries during her childhood, they would have likely focused on the following areas: 

Corpus Callosum: The corpus callosum is the thick structure of white matter that connects the two hemispheres of the brain, allowing each hemisphere to send signals to the other. With an enlarged corpus callosum, Anya would be able to process neural signals at a much faster rate, and at an increased volume, helping her to process the additional load required for telepathy.

Wernicke’s Area: Named after German neurologist Carl Wernicke, this part of the superior temporal gyrus (usually of the left hemisphere) is a major part of being able to understand language. With an enhanced Wernicke’s area, Anya would be more sensitive to decoding the neural signals associated with linguistic thoughts, effectively enabling telepathic communication through language. (As an aside, this would also give Anya an advantage in understanding other languages… which could explain her natural talent with Classical Language!)

Superior Temporal Sulcus: This is another area that is important for processing human speech, and is critical for processing social cues, such as understanding others’ intentions (including Theory of Mind!). With experimentation in the STS, Anya would be better able to decode the subtle cues in others’ brains relating to thoughts and emotions.

Inferior parietal lobule: As well as assisting in the interpretation of language and sensory information, the IPL is also involved in tasks like perspective-taking and understanding others' mental states. By increasing connectivity in this area, Anya can "tune into" the thought processes of others. It’s also well-known for its’ role in visuospatial processing, which can help Anya see visual thoughts as well.

Anterior Cingulate Cortex: This system is composed of a number of different parts of the brain, all working together to be able to process things like attention, decision making, inhibition and emotions. Most interestingly, it is associated with detecting conflicts and errors. Increased sensitivity to the ACC would likely help Anya to detect cognitive dissonance and conflicting thoughts in others (the perfect formula to eventually understand tsundere tendencies…).

Amygdala: The amygdala is often known as the centre of fear, but actually it is hugely important in threat detection, emotional processing and emotional memory. If Anya’s amygdala was enhanced, this would aid her ability to detect threats quickly, as well as her empathy skills and help her to intuit others’ emotions and thoughts. (A negative side effect of an enlarged amygdala would be that Anya may be more vulnerable to the effects of toxic stress, possibly making her less resistant to the effects of psychological trauma.)

Mirror neurons: Mirror neurons specialise in helping us to carry out and understand other people’s actions and behaviours, playing a key role in empathy and Theory of Mind. These hold internal representations of thoughts or actions, and could potentially be the key for Anya to be able to translate another person’s thoughts or intentions, assuming that she has a particularly active mirror neuron system.

Precuneus: The precuneus is really difficult to research and is super complex, so I’ll do my best to keep this simple: Located in the medial parietal cortex, this part of the brain is essential for visuospatial imagining and processing, as well as episodic memory, self-reflection, and some aspects of consciousness. I suppose the main thing is that it has a big role in mental imagery, including being able to model other people’s views, therefore helping Anya to process the mental images in other people’s thoughts.

Broca’s area: This is very much non-canon, but I imagine that if Anya ever developed the ability to project her thoughts, the Broca’s area would be key for this. While Wernicke’s area helps with speech understanding, Broca’s area is key for speech production. In my fanfic (SSS), Anya’s Broca’s area probably functioned normally for most of her life, but in the recent experiments imposed on her, the ability to project her thoughts was ‘unlocked’ through the increased activation of the Broca’s area.

Part 3: Cognitive Neuroscience - Functional basis

The thing is, it’s not enough to just know which parts of the brain work for what - there is also the question of how they connect and work together to be able to fulfil their functions. 

Think of it as the wiring which connects the parts of a computer: a motherboard, mouse, keyboard, and graphics card (as examples) are built to fulfil their specific functions, but the real magic is in how they connect and send signals between each other so that everything works smoothly.

That’s where neural oscillations come in - otherwise known as brainwaves. These are generated by the action potentials of nerve cells, and their different speeds can be measured using electroencephalography, or EEG machines, which can measure the patterns of activity across a brain.

Let’s bear in mind that I’m really skimming the surface of this subject, so I won’t go into all the types of brainwaves in too much detail, but I will focus on the ones that I think could be more relevant to Anya’s telepathy:

Gamma waves

This is the pattern of neural oscillations which are correlated with large-scale brain network activity, and are largely predominant in learning, working memory, and processing new information. In other words: gamma waves help Anya to connect all the different parts of her brain which are relevant to her telepathy, so that all the areas can communicate to each other.

(Just as an aside: I found this hilarious study that looked at the effects of different types of nuts on brainwaves, which saw gamma wave responses being improved through pistachios, while peanuts aided in generating more delta waves. I wonder if the lab scientists of SxF caught on…) 

Theta waves

Theta waves are especially prominent in childhood (during sleep). I imagine that the lab may have recruited children partially for this reason (the other reason would be that brains have more plasticity at a younger age, and so can be altered easier than an adult’s brain). In adults, theta waves are also prominent in hypnotic or meditative states, mind wandering, and the early stages of sleep.

I think it is really interesting that theta waves occur during deep relaxation, as well as the early stages of sleep, making it the only brainwave that can activate both during sleep and during wakefulness. (From what I can tell, anyway.) This could make theta waves an important component of Anya’s telepathy - for example, if her telepathy was important to her survival, then it is critical for her to be able to detect thoughts during sleep, and her amygdala could alert her if the thoughts were at all threatening.

During wakefulness, I can imagine that Anya’s theta waves serve as the precursor for the activation of psi waves…

Psi waves

Just to confirm, Psi waves are definitely fictional, but my rationale is that historically, ‘Psi’ (ψ) has been used to denote the unknown factor which is linked with parapsychology and psychic phenomena. 

My theory is that psi waves would be the frequency required for telepathy, which would allow Anya to detect and interpret other people’s thoughts through their pattern of neural activation. In other words: she can probably read brainwaves. 

Modern science is already trying out methods to interpret people’s brainwaves (which is honestly both supremely cool and extremely terrifying), so it’s not too far out of the realm of possibility that Anya would be able to do the same thing just by unconsciously using her psi waves. The psi-waves would essentially mimic a brain-computer interface in being able to process and interpret neural activity (aka thoughts).

If you require a bit more concrete evidence to believe me, I’ve made a list below.

Right now, we can analyse brainwaves using EEG to:

Decode whether someone answers “yes” or “no” to conversational questions 

Control the movement of simple robots, including wheelchairs, which can be locked/unlocked using EEG (and EMG) as a biometric security system

Detect and interpret what emotion someone is feeling, as well as learn how strong that emotion is (at an accuracy rate of 80-94%)

Deconstruct the cognitive processes underlying social interaction in people who struggle to verbally express themselves

And this study analysed brain activation using fMRI to interpret and reconstruct visual images

Neuroscience is really crazy, guys.

Part 4: Physics

So… this is the part I am the least confident about. Please be patient with me and forgive me for any mistakes 🙏.  Also, this is the perfect time to remind you guys that I am really engaging with science fiction here. Emphasis on the fiction 😂. 

Basically, there are 2 main theories from Physics that I think could explain Anya’s telepathy, as well as her weakness(es):

Theory 1: Geomagnetic Field Sensitivity:

All brain waves are generated by electrical activity in the brain, and they also generate electrical activity of their own, which creates an electromagnetic field around the brain.

Anya’s abilities could be tied to the geomagnetic field of the earth, especially during the New Moon: when the moon is positioned between the earth and the sun, this could affect the field’s strength. The subtle alteration in the geomagnetic field could disrupt the electromagnetic field generated by Anya’s brain, thus disrupting the neural processing. 

In other words: the New Moon could interfere with Anya’s own electromagnetic field around her brain, via sensitivity to changes in the geomagnetic field, which could be why she can’t read minds during the New Moon. 

Theory 2: Resonance:

Resonance can be observed in physics, acoustics, musical, electrical, and mechanical systems - but now scientists are even looking at resonance in consciousness, and resonance in brain waves on a quantum level. 

Without going into too much detail (I am not qualified), I think Anya would generate a resonance frequency of her own that helps her to facilitate telepathic communication: through resonance, Anya could synchronise her Psi waves with the brain waves of another person, and it is this synchronicity that helps her to interpret the other person’s brainwaves. 

If Anya ever encountered another telepath (as she does in SSS), I imagine that they wouldn’t be able to read each other’s minds because their resonance frequencies would cancel each other out. 

In SSS, I also introduced the idea of a sub-auditory sound wave which would stop Anya from being able to use her telepathy. The idea behind this was to introduce another weakness for Anya: when this sound wave is emitted or detected, it interferes with the brain's natural telepathic frequency. This is because the sound wave oscillates at a frequency that masks the neural signals required for telepathy, and means that Anya can’t interpret those signals as easily. 

Thanks for reading!

I told you this was long. Sorry 😅

The above is really just a collective mishmash of stuff I’ve been slowly putting together for about the last 6 months, and I fully accept there will be parts that are more plausible than others. 😂 But it was fun, and more than anything I am really excited to see what we get to find out in Anya’s backstory arc (when it gets here…), and if I see any mentions of brains or neuroscience in SxF I will literally die of joy

[comfortless]

I have some thoughts about König I wanna run by you. 

I really like the concept of him following rules to the letter, but not the intention. 

like he would never steal from friends, but that only applies to items, job opportunities, romantic interests, and ideas don’t count. 

he would never cheat on his lover, EVER! but…that doesn’t mean he can’t entertain thoughts of the nice recruit who for sure has a crush on him, he could lead her on just a lil bit, live off the attention when he’s deployed and claim ignorance if anything gets serious. 

oh and he would never hit you, of course not! but if he got you riled up enough or angry enough to throw a punch his way he could hold you down and restrain you so you don’t hurt yourself, he’s not a monster for kind of liking how you struggle to break free from his grip, and he’s barely even exerting any energy, it’s a safe kind of powerplay to him. 

ok i am listening and nodding my head yes!

König didn’t get the positive attention he so craved when he was younger, so any little bit of it he can grapple at is his for the taking. He’s a bit impulsive.

Mental health and repercussions are not at all relevant to him when he sees something that he wants and is within the realm of possibility for him to attain. He would have a sort of conniving way when it comes to going about these things, too. It isn’t intentional, but to him, his reasoning is absolute. Probably gets that from his father, but he prefers not to think of that.

He’s no master manipulator here, just a man that is very aware of his few talents. He’s not even good at telling a lie, far too blunt and always speaking the first thing that pops into his head.

There’s a promotion at work another operator is vying for? Well, he’s far more suited for it anyway— look at him. He’s big and good with his weapons, handles them nicely and can plow through an enemy with as much ease as he can a wooden door. His confirmed kills far exceed the number of things that his parents could find and scrape together and deem themselves proud of him for. König’s not entirely withdrawn, either, his people respect him. Some might even admire him a bit, wishing they had the things that he never even asked for: his height, the creepy look upon his face, his lack of hesitation when pulling a trigger or burying his hunting knife in another man’s guts.

They’re on good terms, still on good terms even after he presents his argument as to why he’s just that little bit more deserving. He doesn’t need to bring up his childhood or much of his past to anyone here, but he knows down to his very marrow that people tend to think there’s something off or wrong about him and in turn he’s met with pity or fear. He utilizes it, gets what he feels he deserves by coming off gruff and demanding, even whiny if the situation calls for it. Time and time again, he comes to realize it’s much easier and more rewarding for him to play people like toy soldiers in these situations.

He might not be able to get a girlfriend in any authentic way, but as Ghost said in her reblog here, I do think he would have at least tried a tryst with a friend’s girlfriend at some point. König could reason away any guilt. She came onto him, batting her lashes and wearing that low cut blouse while telling him about just how selfish her man/his friend was in bed. And when it ends terribly as these things do, he’ll learn his lesson well enough, gives some hashed apology over a pint of ale. It doesn’t mend a void, only forces another distance between himself and another person. König is more than used to that.

It is always the wrong thing said or done, always a ship with no harbor to dock. He would have friends, yes, but it’s up in the air as to whether or not any of them last very long. He’s self aware enough to realize that he creates these problems, that he could have just done x instead of y, but there’s this tentative, newfound pride wrought up within him that he doesn’t ever let go of. He doesn’t want to be seen as that weak little boy he once was. Apologies are like pulling teeth, even getting one from him is a big deal.

It isn’t his fault he didn’t get as much pussy as any other man and surely… any true friend of his would know enough about him to accept that he was not entirely the one at fault here. Richtig..?

He’ll be happy to take credit for a job well done. It wasn’t his idea to burst through that door and clear out a room of enemies, but he did the work. He deserves the praise, the increase in pay, whatever benefit he can gain from it. It didn’t matter that Fender barked out the order over the comms, warned his team of potential danger, what matters to König is that he got it taken care of with no casualties on his side.

New recruits come and go often, and more often than not, they’re horrified of this giant that outranks them. König still hasn’t mastered any way with women, but he’s been fortunate enough to land himself a sweet, cute girlfriend that waits for him at home. He’s not an idiot, either, knows a little romp at work isn’t worth a thing in comparison to her and would only add another fire to the desolate world he lives in in his head. His girlfriend’s the only garden he has, and he would rather damn himself entirely than ever see something he loves burn.

So, when one bold woman does approach him, placing her hand on his arm and complimenting his stature, he doesn’t feel a thing except some strange twist of pride.

He’s come a long way from the boy who was ridiculed and bullied relentlessly, worked himself tirelessly into becoming this broad mimicry of a god made flesh. But fuck. The attention is nice. He would compliment this recruit’s aim from time to time, pat her on the head like a good little dog when she takes out an enemy or stacks on extra work for herself. It never goes further than that, but she practically eats out of the palm of his hand, begging with her eyes rather than her voice to ask for a night with her colonel.

And when he’s on leave, and his girlfriend is asking why this woman is texting him so often, he shrugs and casually tosses her his phone. He’s got nothing to hide, hasn’t even entertained the thought of sleeping with this girl. If anything, she reminds him of himself before he ever got laid. That desperation is certainly there, and it does kind of unsettle him. Is this how he came off to women before…? A pitiful little thing that just wants to be loved and cared for?

He doesn’t even respond to the recruit’s messages, even when there are so many of them. He kisses his girlfriend everywhere, fucks her like it’s the first few times all over again, and falls asleep nestled up against her. There’s no room in his heart for anyone except the object of his affection, but a part of him does hope this lost little lady finds her own sliver of heaven too. He knows how she feels and hates the thought of making a woman cry outside of fucking her well. So he lets the recruit down easy next time they meet, tells her he doesn’t care for relationships at work, that he loves his girlfriend and he doesn’t want to hurt her. It’s spoken candidly, and doesn’t leave any room for discussion.

Shame about the lack of affection while deployed, but he’s managed on his own longer than most. He’s got an entire album of pretty photos of his girl in and out of the lingerie he bought for her to keep him company, anyway.

And admittedly, arguments with his beloved turn him on.

They both know that she can’t actually hurt him. When her hand is raised to give him a good slap for being a complete asshole over something as trivial as a cashier for accidentally ringing something up twice, he’s already hard. The grin on his face is nothing short of ugly, because he knows how this ends, the same way that it always does. He would take her wrist only after she’s hit him, let her stew in what she’s done, murmur her apologies through stilted breaths and lashes heavy with tears. She tells him she just doesn’t understand why he is the way that he is sometimes while trying to wrench her hand away from his grip.

He’s not rough enough to hurt her when the argument sparks up again, even guides her down onto the floor with a steady hand on her back while she pleads with him for answers that he just doesn’t have. He would go back to seeing a regular therapist for her, maybe. He would do anything for her and that’s just another thing that they both know.

“Heh… you like me crazy,” König would breathe into her hair when her thighs are locked around his middle. Poor thing can barely speak when she’s exerted her energy trying to best him in a battle she could never hope to win. She’s all whimper and no bite, nails raking over his shoulders with each slow, teasing thrust.

“Look at you.” He practically purrs when her face is taken into one callused palm, brought forward to lock eyes with him when the sounds spilling from her lips grow more needy. And then he gives her the fucking she deserves, rougher when she’s sighing his name and trembling from the residual waves of her own orgasm. It didn’t matter who was right or wrong anymore; argument long-forgotten, buried under a blanket of white heat. He chases his own end, lets her watch him unravel all for her as his seed fills her, spills out where they connect to make a mess of the carpet below.

He’s selfish in those ways.

[maxdibert]

Hey!!!

Do you think Lily should have forgiven Snape for his insult? Do you think Snape and Lily were bad for each other (friendship wise)?

(By the way I love your posts :) also to anyone who has insulted you or anything, they’re wrong, only cool people can interact or be open on the internet like you :D so don’t listen to the haters, you’re great!)

I think they were two people who didn’t have much in common. They became friends because they were the only magical children in their area, and that’s something that can bond you deeply with someone when you’re a kid—the fact that you both identify with something and recognize each other as equals in a context where you’re quite different from everyone else. But those similarities were merely circumstantial and superficial. The moment they were placed in an environment where that difference was no longer unusual but rather the norm, their differences in character, goals, and worldview started to emerge, and they turned out to be completely incompatible.

It’s actually very common to have close friends in childhood and then suddenly stop talking to them during adolescence, and there doesn’t necessarily have to be a major reason or a moment of rupture like in Lily and Severus’s case—sometimes, things just happen that way. In their specific case, I think that’s part of what happened, but on one hand, Lily maintained the friendship out of habit, while for Severus, she represented an attachment figure, and he had a certain dependence on her because she was the only person he associated with the positive aspects of his childhood and the only one he saw as truly accepting him. It’s very common for abuse victims to cling to those who show them affection, especially in childhood, and to make those people their main emotional pillar.

I also think neither of them made any real effort to understand the other. Clearly, Severus never saw what the problem was if Lily wasn’t directly affected by what other Slytherins did—because he was there to intervene—even though we can all see what the problem was. But people rarely mention that Lily also made no effort whatsoever to understand why Severus ended up surrounding himself with those people. She never tried to understand the shit he was going through either, because she very matter-of-factly dismissed him as being obsessed with the Marauders, even though she knew they bullied him. On top of that, she directly told him that he should be grateful to James Potter, whom she knew was his main abuser.

Severus was a troubled kid, too focused on getting out of his problems and moving forward in life to realize how that might damage his relationship with Lily. And honestly, I think Lily was very used to being liked, she liked being liked, and she wanted to maintain the “gilded child” status she had at home in Hogwarts as well. That made her conveniently overlook aspects of Severus’s reality that weren’t convenient for her to confront because doing so would mean jeopardizing her status as the beloved Gryffindor golden girl, liked by everyone and pursued by the most popular guy in her house, who just so happened to be rich and a pureblood, despite her being Muggle-born. In the end, it all comes down to teenage narcissism in both of them, and that’s not unusual at all—relationships like that are extremely common during adolescence.

As for whether I think she should have forgiven him or not? That’s not really relevant, because everyone has the right to set whatever boundaries they see fit in their relationships. If for her, that was the limit, then that’s fine and should be respected. You don’t need a strong justification to end a relationship, a friendship, or to cut off a family member. I don’t think that’s something you need to defend. If you feel that someone isn’t good for you, then you have the right to walk away.

Now, if you’re asking me personally whether I would stop being friends with someone over a shitty insult, then no, I wouldn’t. I’ve stayed friends with people who have literally attacked me during psychotic episodes. I’ve remained friends with people I’ve physically fought with. I’ve continued friendships with people I stopped talking to for months. I’ve had brutally intense fights where we’ve said truly terrible things to each other, hit rock-bottom levels of cruelty, and still stayed friends.

Because my view of friendship is all or nothing. Friends are there for the good times, but especially for the bad times. I’m not interested in friends just for fun—hell, I can have fun moments even with my neighbor if I down three beers. Friends are there to put up with your shit, to stick around when you can’t even stand yourself, and to help you when you have problems, even if two days ago you were the biggest asshole on earth. That’s how I’ve always lived friendship, and that’s how it works with my lifelong group of friends.

[outsidethebeautybox]

Boys Need Better Representation Too

If we stop and think about it, most of the content trying to help people work through their insecurities and build confidence is catered toward women. 

Sure, there’s self-improvement content catered toward more general audiences, but when it comes to helping people celebrate the physical features they were born with, most of us prioritize women’s insecurities over male insecurities.

Whether you’re self-conscious about curly hair, dark skin, a few extra pounds or acne, there’s an encouraging artwork or inspirational video out there to remind you you’re beautiful. But once again, most of this content is by women, for women.

I’m guilty of this too.

The artists I follow (and love) who do ‘drawing insecurities’ videos are all drawing women. The fashion brands I watch videos for (and love) which feature inclusive sizing are all made for or marketing to women.

But boys have insecurities too, and they are also seriously lacking representation.

Those of us who really care about encouraging diversity-positivity and self love are pouring our hearts and souls into creating content to help women across the world realize that they are beautiful.. We make dark skinned female leads. We make drawings of beautiful plus-sized queens.

But there aren’t a whole lot of relevant dark-skinned or plus-sized guys in the media either. Or skinny superheroes. Or short male leads. The list goes on.

There are a LOT of male beauty standards that many guys still feel frustrated and depressed by being unable to fit, whether they’re “not muscular enough” or they can’t grow a beard.

In countries where colorism is an ongoing issue, it often affects boys as well as girls, and yet, when I read webcomics like “Your Smile Is a Trap” and “Love Love Fighting” (again, stories that I love) the female leads stray outside the beauty box, while the male leads still fit the cultural beauty standard.

How many Black superheroes can you think of who have TV shows currently airing? 

How many male superheroes can you think of who don’t have the quintessential square jaw and perfect hair?

I know of a few Asian romance webcomics with brown skinned female leads but I’ve not seen any with brown skinned male leads.

Part of what it means to work outside the beauty box is to prioritize people other than ourselves. We work to help more people feel seen. I spend a lot of time promoting diversity positivity for women, hispanics and members of the black diaspora, but with the world the way it is now, there is almost always some demographic or another being ignored or overlooked, and that means we need to keep widening our perspectives.

The media needs more male leads who are shorter than the female lead. We need male characters who are plus-sized or disabled or dark skinned but aren’t deemed second rate or stuck playing second fiddle to the guys who fit the beauty standard.

I’m not sure why, but working outside the beauty box actually seems to be even harder to manage with male characters than it is with female characters. I think it’s because of a subconscious global bias. We know girls are sensitive about their looks and so anyone who wants to diss a girl for not fitting the beauty standard is labeled a monster. Yet people constantly dismiss guys coldly and carelessly and they’re just expected to suck it up.

I had to cancel a comic project I was working on because the artist didn’t want to give the male lead dark skin, and I still haven’t found a new artist to work with. The project before that, the artist didn’t mind the female lead being black but was bigoted against the male lead for being Korean.

People of every ethnicity, shape, and size deserve to see themselves in the media.

Our bodies are beautiful. Individuality is beautiful, and men’s mental health and self-esteem matters every bit as much as women’s mental health and self-esteem.

Guys deserve to live in a world that accepts and loves them. They shouldn’t have to quietly deal with being bullied for their physical appearances while being expected to ‘suck it up’ or ‘be a man’ and get over it.

Beauty standards are hurtful. Period. Everyone needs to hear the words ‘you’re beautiful’ sometimes.

So I’ll be the first one to say it.

You’re beautiful.

[karikarasuno]

sonder ch. x

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader x Levi Ackerman

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Reader is always going through it so there's that, Also Kissing (finally), Oh and Angry Erwin (his sexiest form)

Word Count: 8.8k

song(s) for the chapter: go easy, kid by monica martin & hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

chapter ix | chapter x | chapter xi

Under any other circumstance, you would be fine. Cool as a cucumber. You have done the whole dress up charade before. Since Onyankopon was in the music industry, a night in a fancy dress with too high heels and pretty jewelry became a normal occurrence. But this time. This night, as you stood in the mirror staring at your reflection, you couldn’t help but feel nervous and a touch shaky. You didn’t look bad by any means. In fact, you would venture out and say you looked quite beautiful. This particular shade of red complimented your complexion elegantly and the style of the gown fit you like a glove. It clung to all the right places while also smoothing out the rest. It was a dress that seemed to be made with you in mind. 

But suddenly and without warning, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was too much. The strappy black heels, the gold dangling earrings, and the complicated updo you spent far too much time on. You were uncomfortable. And, ironically enough, it seemed to stem from a strong sense of insecurity. 

You couldn’t really remember the last time you felt so outwardly insecure. It could be that this was your first formal work event at this job. Or the fact that this was the first time you were truly dressing up since the break up. Or even–and probably the most relevant– was the other fact that you seemed to have two dates tonight. Who were bound to be knocking at your door any second and you still hadn’t applied your lipstick. 

But two dates wasn’t the problem. It was who they were. What they meant to you. It was clear to you that this friendship had effectively surpassed the shallow waters of platonic companionship. It was obvious that you definitely, positively, irrevocably fell in love with them. 

Falling in love, the act, was always accompanied with self-doubt. It was the free falling through endless skies that seemed to shift between day and night, light and dark, without any idea of when you would finally touch the ground that was the most terrifying. Because the ground was hard, firm. And without anyone to catch you, it almost always felt like death when you inevitably hit it. 

You were so lost in the trance of your reflection and the paralyzing thoughts of your insecurities that you didn’t hear them approach the door like you typically did. So when they unlocked the front door and entered your eerily silent home, you nearly jumped out of your skin when Erwin stepped through the open door of your bedroom.

“Holy shit!” You screamed, your hand flying to your chest and the other flew out to brace you against your dresser to keep you from actually falling to the floor. Which would’ve been embarrassing to say the least. 

“Did you not hear us come in?” Erwin said, doubled over in laughter from what you were sure was an absolutely outrageous reaction. 

“No,” you huffed out, a blush already forming at your cheeks. “I was too busy looking at myself.”

“I don’t blame you,” he took a step in your direction, hand reaching out to grab yours and lifting your arm above your head to gesture for you to spin for him. “You look incredible.”

“You think so?” You said, trying to play your insecurity off as a joke, but you were too vulnerable to pass it off as anything else. But before he could answer, Levi walked in. He was in the middle of adjusting the button on his shirt sleeve when he looked over at you. His eyes traveled from your shoes, lingered on the fabric that sat hanging around your neck, and then finally his gaze touched your face. He smiled warmly. Which for some reason or another you hadn’t expected. 

The clear affection made you look away. And now of all things, you were feeling shy. It was very much a regression in your eyes and you wanted to scream at how absurd you were acting. Suddenly you were 17 all over again and sending up silent prayers that the boy you liked actually liked you back. The confidence you earned with age was waning rather rapidly in their presence. 

“Wow,” he said, nodding as if he was also agreeing with himself. “Very pretty,” he added with that same small, appreciative smile that made butterflies flutter recklessly in your stomach.

“And I haven’t even put my lipstick on yet,” you deflected with a coy smile before hurrying into your bathroom to breathe for a moment. Your hand was trembling slightly as you added the red lipstick, but when you scrutinized yourself in the mirror again it was strange. You looked so different. Almost unrecognizable. It has officially been over a year since you moved to this city. And while you felt different internally, those differences seemed to quickly manifest externally. There was this undeniable glow about you. Even a cliche sparkle to your eyes that wasn’t there before. 

You were a woman in love. And that alone made your palms sweat and your pulse thump carelessly in your neck. You were in the midst of a love that very well could be unrequited. But it didn’t stop that love from blossoming nonetheless. 

“How long does it take to put lipstick on?” Erwin asked, reclining against the doorframe as you looked at each other through the mirror. His smile was lazy when your eyes met in the reflection and his posture was comfortable. As if merely being in your presence was enough to award him solace. 

“You can’t rush perfection, Erwin,” you flirted back, attempting to regain some of that errant confidence you swore you had at some point before the last ten minutes. You then made an effort to fix the outline of red on your bottom lip with your pinky to emphasize your point. 

“I sure as hell can when you rush me all the time,” he responded with a playful scoff to punctuate his point. 

“Oh and you’re so perfect?” You laughed, sliding the cap back onto your lipstick before turning to face him instead of continuing this conversation through the mirror. But you hadn’t realized how close the door was to the sink, so when you turned you were met with an Erwin that was a good three inches shorter than he typically was since he was leaning against the door at such a drastic angle. While you were a solid three and a half inches taller in the heels you were wearing. This was the closest your faces have ever been to each other while standing up. Your eyes involuntarily drifted to his lips for a split second, but when you tore them away to look into his eyes instead, you found that he was unabashedly staring at yours. 

“That color looks really good on you,” he said in a breathy whisper and you fought the urge to roll your lips together because you would smear the color and have to redo them. You also fought the urge to kiss him because no one has ever looked at your lips as reverently as Erwin was right then and there. It was pure seduction and you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle under the weight of his stare. 

“It really completes the look, doesn’t it?” 

“Mhmm.” His nod of confirmation was almost imperceptible. The bathroom suddenly felt much, much smaller than it ever had before. There wasn’t enough space between the two of you. Not enough to breathe and certainly not enough to think. Your lips parted but all you were capable of releasing was a tiny puff of air. For a moment you even stopped breathing from how violently charged the energy was between the two of you. 

Without any conscious volition, your hand rose. Your fingers found the crisp texture of his white button up and you could feel the warm firmness of his chest beneath your palm. You could feel his eyes track your movements predatorily, your pulse ran wildly in your throat and chest and wrist. And you took a step towards him, invading his space and practically bathing in his cologne. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly just to indulge in the scene because it didn’t feel real and it was easier to convince yourself of a delusion your hopelessly romantic heart would create rather than burst your bubble with the reality that this all could be one sided. And that for them, this was friendship. 

“We should get going,” you said, eyes blinking back open to peer up at him. 

“What?” His eyes skittered across the features of your face. Confusion, however naive or innocent it may have been, was evident on his face when his blue eyes finally found yours. 

“We’ll be late if we don’t leave soon,” you explained gently, regret beginning to crawl its way up your arm and into your chest. “I’m sure Levi is starting to pace in the living room,” you added with a small laugh while gingerly pushing Erwin away from you. The distance made the fog start to clear up and your heart, while still palpitating beneath your breast, began to ease. He nodded again and when you looked up at him, eyes searching his, you weren’t too sure at what you were seeing in them. And you didn’t have the time nor energy to decipher it for fear of hurting your own feelings with an answer you wouldn’t like. 

You didn’t look back at him as you walked out of the bedroom and you kept your head down when you saw Levi standing at the window in your living room talking on the phone. When he heard your heels tapping on the floor, he said a hasty goodbye to whoever he was speaking to and his gaze burned against your body. Oddly, you felt like exposed wires and if both of them kept up whatever searing looks they shared with each other and subsequently you, your body would suddenly burst into flames. 

It was easy enough to deduce that there was a very palpable and tangible attraction between the three of you. That was especially evident in the car ride to the venue where the tension was the thickest it had ever been. The air, while perfumed with a blend of your fragrances, smelled distinctly of lust. As if Aphrodite herself was misting the air with whatever godly essence she had at her disposal. 

You sat tensely in the backseat as you attempted not to fidget with your jewelry and failed. There were electric sparks twitching through your fingertips and your knee bounced slightly as you kept your gaze fixed on the scenery blurring past your window. It was only a fifteen minute drive. But eternity wanted to make herself relevant that evening, so she wedged herself in between the seconds of time and stretched them infinitely. 

No words were spoken the entire way besides Erwin muttering under his breath about some song that began to play before he turned the radio off completely. Levi was typically quiet so this wasn’t out of the norm for him. But you, your senses were dialed all the way up. Colors were brighter, smells were stronger, sounds were louder. 

Maybe you were overstimulated. Maybe you couldn’t handle what was actually brewing in your previously nonexistent love life. Maybe you weren’t ready. 

The love was there. The love filled your heart so powerfully you were sure you could drown in its shores. But what if the love wasn’t enough and you were still too broken to accept anything more than silent yearning and painful moments of faux intimacy?

What if you were no longer worthy of the love that was right in front of you? It was easier to convince yourself that you weren’t enough now then get heartbroken later.

Erwin pulled up in front of the venue. It was being hosted in one of the fancy hotels downtown that Moblit was stressfully able to secure after the last venue canceled at the last minute due to double booking the space. Before you could get out of the car, Levi had already opened the door for you. You heard Erwin call out that he would meet you two up there while he found parking, but it was all so distant and muddled in your brain because you were too in your head about everything. 

“You alright?” Levi said, leaning in close so the words were said directly into your ear. He was shorter than you when you wore your heels, so when you glanced over at him your eyes had to look down. You bit the inside of your cheek as you nodded, your skin goosebumping despite the warmth of the evening. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat as you slipped your hand through the crook of his elbow, “just nervous, I think.”

“About?” He asked, guiding you through the glass doors of the hotel and straight into the chilly lobby. It was grander than you expected, the ceiling light years above you and adorned with twinkling chandeliers and elegant arches. It gave the impression of old money and status. Probably because it was one of the oldest buildings in the city, but to say you were stuck in a state of admiration was an understatement. There weren’t buildings like this back home. The architecture, in all of its artful integrity, made you oddly nostalgic for something you never had experienced before. And the ambience alone only added to the air of romanticism that draped over your evening. It was getting more difficult to deny that this night meant more to the three of you than you would care to admit. 

Levi tugged gently at your arm, reminding you that you had to continue to walk, but also that he asked you a question. When you turned to him he was already looking at you with clear amusement and the slightest of smiles pulling at the corners of his lips. You smiled back sheepishly, that annoying shyness returning to your body without your consent. 

“Sorry,” you replied, allowing him to pull you to an elevator that led to the rooftop where the fundraiser was being hosted. “I just don’t want to screw this up.”

You were purposefully vague in your answer. And you had a strong sense that Levi knew that, which was why he didn’t press you further on the issue. That was what you appreciated most about him. He was someone who allowed you to sit in silence beside him without the pressure of feeling like you had to explain yourself. Levi knew that when you were ready you would talk to him. You just weren’t sure when or if you ever would be ready. 

Luckily, some being unknown to you seemed to be watching over you because as soon as you stepped foot onto that beautifully decorated rooftop, sleek with modern detailing that stood as a drastic juxtaposition to the rest of the hotel, your hand was clasped between an excited Hange’s as they word vomited the last three hours of their life to you. 

“Well, thank you for the rundown, Hange,” you laughed, stepping away from Levi and finding that the air wasn’t as dizzying when you weren’t wrapped in his cologne. “And you look great by the way.”

“Me?” They practically squeaked out, “look at you! You look so stunning, I can’t believe I picked this out.”

“You’ve always had a good, if not wandering eye, my love,” Moblit responded, leaning over to kiss their cheek as he moved over to greet you with a steady hug and warm smile. You were beginning to feel more overwhelmed than you anticipated you would be. The air, even though you were outdoors, was stifling. It was a warm night, but not enough to have you choking inaudibly at every inhale. Your mind and body were torn between immense gratitude that after what could be such a short amount of time you found a group of people that you could no longer imagine life without and the growing dread that somehow, someway you would fuck this up. Life shouldn’t just go on, but it does. Love shouldn’t have just found you again, but it did. And you knew better than anyone that time and the future and all of its vast uncertainties waited for no one. 

So, as you watched Levi and Erwin mingle through the crowd. As you stood and conversed with Pixis about how much of a great addition you were to the staff. As your eyes scanned over the people around you, halting at Historia and her girlfriend, Ymir, Marco and Jean, Moblit and Hange. And finally, Levi and Erwin. 

The loneliness that you hadn’t felt in so long crept its way through your body. It scraped against your bones and clotted your bloodstream. Your heart thumped too quickly, but also stopped all together. You were going to ruin this. It hit you like a brick of certainty straight over the head and nearly enough to render you unconscious. 

You smiled at Erwin through the panic when his eyes found you across the rooftop. There was a momentary look of concern that you knew was a result of your shaky disposition, but you waved him off trying your best to reassure him that you were fine. You held up your glass of barely sipped chardonnay and tipped it his way to silently cheers him. He responded in kind with his glass of whiskey. And that small gesture should have been enough to quell your nerves. To let you know that no matter how alone you felt, you never truly were. But the music continued to play and couples began to filter towards the small makeshift dance floor and when you saw Erwin slip his hand into Levi’s to drag him to an outside corner of the floor to dance with him, envy coiled around your limbs. Its python-like grip held you in a vice that you knew you didn’t have the capacity to escape from. All you knew was the bright red exit sign glaring at you and your instinct to flee. There was no fight in you. You had to run like you always did. If not, the snake of jealousy would surely squeeze you to death. And unfortunately you weren’t ready to die. 

So, as they danced you downed the rest of your drink and headed for the exit. You were nearly to the door when someone caught your arm. The heavy hand startled you where their fingers held onto your forearm. 

“Are you okay?” Moblit asked, his grip loosening when you turned around to look up at him. Concern. It was there, reflecting beautifully across his irises, and knowing. He always seemed to see right through you and yet you still chose to lie to him. You squared your shoulders, smiled faintly, and said, “of course! I was just heading to the bathroom to cool off for a bit. It’s a little warm up here.”

He ignored the goosebumps that blossomed across your skin and the way you took a teetering step away from his body. He ignored the look of panic he surely saw plastered across your face beneath the mask you wore. However cracked or faded it may have been. And he let you leave. He watched as you walked towards the elevator and practically punched a hole into the button with your forefinger. Your mind was swimming with insecurities and fright and heart wrenching anxiety. You didn’t spare him or anyone a backwards glance as you stepped through the opening doors and pulled your phone out of your purse to order yourself an Uber.

Your vision was blurring and you knew tears were traitorously gathering in your lash line, but you swallowed them down. It wasn’t the time to fall apart. Maybe once you got home, to the familiarity of your belongings, you could find comfort in the loneliness that was starting to settle within you anew. The driver was only two minutes away and if you were lucky that was enough time not to raise any suspicions because you couldn’t explain your actions let alone your feelings to anyone without admitting how you were stupid enough to fall in love with your best friends. 

The sound of your heels on clean tile guided you through the lobby. It was the only sound to truly permeate the volume of your racing heart and screeching thoughts. There was a vibration coursing through you, one that thrummed harsher the longer you stood on the pavement and waited for the uber to arrive. When a black Nissan Sentra pulled up to the curb you didn’t think twice before opening the backseat door, which was dumb, but you didn’t have room to think about anything other than getting home as soon as possible.

“Ma’am, can you confirm your name please?” The driver said, angled slightly in his seat to look back at you. You cleared your throat before giving him your name, grateful that this was indeed your ride and you didn’t jump into the wrong car. Which would’ve been a much too late realization since you would have already gotten yourself voluntarily kidnapped. 

“Thank you,” you called out over your shoulder as he stopped in front of your home a few minutes later. Your palms were beginning to sweat from the way you were wringing your fingers in your lap the entire drive over. It was as if your body had too much energy coursing through it while also feeling completely drained. 

You were exhausted but knew you wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. Your heels were the first to go when you entered your house, and next the bobby pins that held up your hair as you tossed them on the coffee table the further you walked inside. Your fingers immediately kneaded at your scalp in the hopes that it would relieve some of the pressure building inside your skull, but you knew it was hopeless when the stress only stacked higher in your chest. Guilt clawed its way through you again. Guilt for leaving Levi and Erwin wordlessly at an event you invited them to and guilt for even loving them as anything more than a friend. 

You braced your hands on the edge of the island as you tried to regulate your breathing and clear your mind from all the muddled thoughts plaguing you. Nothing was coherent. It was all irrational and blinding and you knew that if you didn’t get it together soon you’d be losing everything you built over the last year. And that wasn’t an option. Because you loved your home, your job, your annoyingly perceptive coworker, and most of all your stupidly handsome and considerate neighbors. 

You released a groan of frustration, the heels of your palms pressed into your closed eyes to keep the burning sensation from producing actual tears. Because there was nothing to cry over. Yet, anyways. You simply had to speak with them and maybe talking out loud about your feelings would resolve all the sickening turmoil swirling around your gut day in and day out.

Maybe you should pray. Maybe God or the universe or even whatever spirit guide was bestowed upon you in this life could offer you some insight on how to navigate this truly complicated situation you have somehow found yourself in but also managed to create. You reached an arm around to unzip your dress because the fabric was now clinging to you in a way that you didn’t like. In a way that was suffocating and invasive. But as you struggled to grip the zipper slider between your fingers the entire house seemed to shake with the force of whoever was knocking on your door. The banging stopped after three sharp knocks. Your heart and stomach seemed to swap places in your body as your heartbeat plummeted to your abdomen and acid rose to burn your chest. To say you were startled was an understatement. You were paralyzed with fear from the intrusion and as you slowly turned to face the door the banging resumed. This time it was accompanied by your name and a voice that sounded eerily like Erwin’s except this one was angry. Unfamiliar. The step you were prompted to take was halted midair when the realization struck that he was angry with you.

You didn’t think of that possibility when your spiral began. That your reaction to the overload of emotions brewing inside of you would hurt Erwin or Levi to the point of anger. Neither of them had ever been mad at you, so whatever was occurring or even about to occur was territory you had never ventured into. So, you hesitated. 

“Open the door,” Erwin said through the door and you could vividly imagine the words spitting from between a clenched jaw and gritted teeth. It was rare that Erwin was ever angry and never so outwardly so. He preferred to contain his anger and redirect it elsewhere. Like work or running. But this was directed at you. Plain and simple. 

Any anxiety that was coursing through you before was now swiftly replaced by distinct dread and child-like fear of being scolded. You didn’t want to open the door because you didn’t want to admit that you did anything wrong. But the guilt that followed you home said otherwise. 

You opened the door. Erwin stood there with his hand braced on the doorframe and the other on his hip, his hair tousled and a mess, and the tie he wore was loosened and hung limply around his neck. You hated the way your body reacted to him. You hated how when his eyes, darkened with anger and glistening with hurt, met yours, your heart stuttered and a breathless ‘oh’ left your lips. You hated that even while seemingly livid with you, you couldn’t help but find him just as astonishingly beautiful as the day you met. 

“Before I say what I really wanna say,” he started, inhaling deeply as he unclenched his jaw clearly restraining himself. “Are you okay?”

It wasn’t what you were expecting him to ask so all you could manage was a surprised blink, parted lips, and a stuttered exhale. 

“Answer me,” he added with much less resolve and you had to take a physical step back to gather your thoughts. 

“Y-yeah, I just,” you couldn’t come up with anything remotely convincing so you settled with, “I was feeling off.”

He scoffed incredulously as he stood at his full height forcing your head to follow. His gaze was practically predatory as he stepped over the threshold and into your home. Backing you into the wall that was at the entrance.

“You were feeling off,” he said slowly, ruminating over the words trying to decide where the truth was in that statement. 

You nodded. He chuckled.

“Where’s Levi?” You asked in an attempt to divert some of the tension onto something else, someone else. 

“Not sure,” he said, eyes still locked on you as you both stood rooted to the floor of your entryway. “Why’d you leave?”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” you scrambled for words. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could’ve left,” he responded evenly, like it was the most sensible option. And it was, but an hour ago that option wasn’t viable.

“I-” you sighed trying to force words up your throat and out of your lips, “I didn’t wanna be a bother. You two were mingling and dancing and I didn’t wanna ruin that.”

“So you thought that leaving unannounced without saying goodbye without pulling me or Levi to let us know something was wrong wasn’t going to ruin that?” His voice rose towards the end of his question out of frustration you assumed, but you felt yourself growing defensive. Regardless of whether or not you were in the wrong, an anger that you knew was rooted in jealousy and falsely placed resentment was beginning to rival Erwin’s. 

“No, Erwin, I didn’t think that-”

“Maybe that’s the problem! You didn’t think, you just left. Because if you really thought it through you would've come to me.” You walked away from him, needing to physically remove yourself from his overwhelming presence that you usually found such comfort in, but couldn’t bear at the moment. 

“I couldn’t!” You shouted, unable to think straight anymore with every single emotion you’ve ever felt bubbling uncomfortably in your gut. 

“Why?!” He was growing more agitated purely because he didn’t understand. Every time he tried to wrap his head around the decisions you made he couldn’t find a logical conclusion. “Do you not trust me?”

Your head reared back as if you had just been slapped. The hurt in his tone was evident, but you were mostly shocked by the mere idea that he would believe you didn’t trust him. After everything you all had been through together. 

“Of course I trust you,” you said, voice broken and exhaustion seeping through every syllable. 

“Then why do you keep running?” It was a valid question and one you’ve asked yourself more times than you could count. And even after all the contemplation, you still couldn’t come up with an answer that was satisfactory. Not to you and surely not to Erwin.

“Because,” you struggled to find the words. Erwin was looking at you so expectantly, so patiently yet you couldn’t arrange a coherent sentence in your mind that would constitute a normal response. Panic began to rise like bile in your throat. Your breathing hiccupped not once, but twice when you forced yourself to look at Erwin’s face. 

The heart that you worked so hard on repairing was starting to crack. The honey that you tirelessly poured into every gash to piece it back together was starting to reveal itself as just a sticky mess. You were about to fall apart again but this time the only person to blame was yourself. Your insecurities and self doubt. Your fear and self-loathing. It was all you. Only you struck the match of sabotage and now there was a fire burning around you that you couldn’t put out. 

“Because I-” Everything was stuck, your vocal chords were shrinking, your chest was tight and with blurred vision you swore that when you stared into Erwin’s eyes in desperation you found a love there that was so profound and deeply moving that your body swayed and your knees could no longer bear the weight of you. 

His hands found your face before you sunk to the ground from weariness. His fingers were strong as they met at the back of your head and his thumbs were reassuring as they wiped what you could only assume were tears from your cheeks. 

“I need you to stay with me,” he said reverently, “with Levi. We need you to get it together and stay.”

You swallow a sob. “I don’t think you understand what you’re asking of me.”

“I’m asking you to stay.” His grip tightened slightly against your cheeks and your breathing while still irregular became deeper, more natural. “We can stay like this. Like we have been for all this time or…”

His face drew nearer and for a second you thought it was something you were imagining. Something that you have imagined, countless times. A figment of your delusion that you swore would never be a reality. But then his nose touched the tip of yours. A gasp caught in your throat. And before you could begin to utter his name, his lips slotted between yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and everything that never made sense started to. Every question suddenly had an answer. The sticky sweet residue of a honey repaired heart was being wiped clean. 

Your hands rose to grip the lapels of his suit jacket and for the first time in an abnormally long time, you leaned in. Trusted that if you fell, someone would catch you. Erwin’s lips became more insistent, his tongue gently slipped into your open mouth and you rose higher on your toes to be closer to him. You needed to be closer to him because he anchored you to this world. To this reality that you never thought would be within reach. 

Then you thought of Levi and how he wasn’t here and how this moment felt wrong. Out of place. Your soles met the cold floor again and you took a staggering step away from the warmth and familiarity of Erwin’s embrace. 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” Your fingers touched your kiss bitten lips with a twisted sort of awe. It was right. At least it felt that way. But you still shouldn’t have done it because he was your best friend and in a relationship with someone you loved so dearly. So, it must have been wrong.

“It’s okay.” Levi stood in the entrance of your home. The door was still open and the moonlight lit him up like a beacon. Your eyes, although they were still a bit watery, drank him in. He no longer wore his suit jacket and his shirt was unbuttoned enough for the open collar to expose his collarbones. He wore a faint blush on his cheeks but it was impossible to see the extent of it since you never bothered to turn on any lights when you arrived. You were guided solely by the alluring temptation of the moon’s gentle white light. 

“Levi, I’m so s-sorry,” you stuttered out, eyes jumping between Erwin, who looked just as disheveled as you felt, and Levi. 

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, but I do. We got carried away and we shouldn’t have done that,” you pointedly made that last remark at Erwin, whose lips were still painted red from your lipstick. While you felt the gravity of regret on your shoulders none of it was reflected in Erwin and of all things that gave you pause. He seemed just as self assured and confident as the day you met him under the serenity of that early spring morning. 

“We’ve already talked about this,” he said, trying to close that distance between you again but you only retreated further into your living room. 

“Already talked about what?”

“Us. The idea of us, at least,” Erwin said, but confusion still lingered on your face. 

“I think we can all agree that it has felt different between us for quite some time now,” Levi said delicately. As if he was trying to soothe a cornered animal. You knew exactly what he meant. It’s felt different for you for months, but you never said anything because you weren’t about to look like a homewrecker or destroy a friendship that has been invaluable to you since you moved to this city. So, the frustration, in all of its wayward forms, was rumbling within you like the commencement of a volcanic eruption. 

“If the two of you knew you had feelings for me…” Your mind was tracing back over all the moments that you thought you were reading too much into. The touching, the nearly kissing, the flirting. It was all so obvious, but you ignored it all because it only made you feel like you were dipping your toes into the deep waters of insanity. “If you talked about it, why not tell me?”

“We didn’t really know how.” Levi said.

“And we didn’t wanna scare you off,” Erwin added. Breathing was becoming foreign to you and the ground beneath your feet swayed in an unfamiliar way. You were almost frustrated by this confession. Nearly angry at this proclamation because while you sat in your feelings, alone and petrified at the idea of loss. Of losing them. They had each other. Their feelings and flirting seemed so easy to you because it was so much easier for them. 

“I can’t do this,” you gasped, hands smoothing over your dress in a frantic move to try to soothe yourself. 

“But-”

“Right now,” you added, interrupting Erwin when the clear look of hurt flashed across his features. “I’m- this is a lot and I think I need some time.”

“Do you not feel the same?” Levi asked, his voice hardening in an attempt to shield how upset he was. 

“Of course I feel the same! It’s all I’ve been feeling for months, but until now I thought I was alone in that. Can you even begin to imagine the guilt I’ve been feeling the moment I realized I was in love with you?!” The words erupted from your chest and out your lips before you could consider using a bit more tact. But tact was for the patient and you ran out of that a long time ago. 

“You two have had each other in this and you always will, but until two seconds ago I thought that my feelings would ruin us. I thought my love for you would end this and I couldn’t bear the idea of losing either of you so I left,” you rambled out the words in a single breath. Your heart raced and your skin grew clammy. 

They both stood silently as you inhaled a breath far shakier than you intended. You hated the feeling of hopelessness that was building in your chest. It was aggravating. The lack of control you had was morphing every emotion you felt into anger and you didn’t want to continue this conversation angry. It would just cause everything to blow up and that was the last possible thing you wanted. 

Levi said your name in a whisper so soft it was only heard because of how eerily quiet your home was. Not even the hum of the air conditioning filled the still air. When your eyes met his, you saw the emotional conflict you were positive was a reflection of your own features. It was starting to seem like you were dedicated to living a life where all you did was inflict heartbreak. 

“I think we should continue this conversation tomorrow,” you said, voice thick with emotion but above all else, complete exhaustion. And when Levi took a step towards you in protest, you took one away from him. 

“Ok,” Erwin cut in, his hand heavy on Levi’s shoulder. You could tell neither of them wanted to actually leave, but you weren’t really giving them an option. Your brain was muddled and your feelings were an absolute clusterfuck that you needed to untangle before you could even begin to express them to Levi and Erwin. 

The door shut and the distinct sound of the lock turning into place served as a reminder that you were alone again. You intended to be alone. You technically wanted and even asked for it. But the cavity it left behind was a gruesome, bleeding hole right through where your heart was supposed to be. 

Funnily enough though, you didn’t cry. You couldn’t really bring yourself to produce tears anymore. So that night, instead of sleeping, you laid restlessly staring at the moving blades of your ceiling fan until the sun peeked through the tiny sliver where your curtains didn’t quite meet. You laid there until your weekend alarm rang signalling that it was now eight o’clock in the morning. The floor was cold when your bare feet met it, but it didn’t bother you much. You were beginning to fear that if you continued to tear yourself away from endings that could award you happiness even if short lived, you would just end up numbing yourself to everything. 

In an attempt to protect yourself from sadness, you had chosen again and again to dull whatever traces of happiness that came your way. It was dumb. And absolutely no way to live life. Even if all you were truly searching for was contentment. 

You drank your coffee black that morning in some weird effort to punish yourself. Again, stupid. Because you hated black coffee. So, it then sat untouched after two pathetic sips in your sink. It wasn’t difficult to come to a decision, but you wanted to make sure your words were chosen carefully and articulately. There was no room for error. Even when you knew that with Erwin and Levi mistakes were easily forgiven when it came to you. But you were sure their patience would only last so long. So you gave yourself the afternoon. 

The pier always seemed to call to you in moments like these. The wind was sharp even in the hottest months with the way it whipped at your clothes. There was the distinct smell of algae that the breeze carried that in a very odd way felt comforting to you. The horizon was endless except when the sun was setting. At that point, the water ended in a fiery blaze of pinks and oranges. It was beautiful and a gentle reminder that despite life’s hardships the sun will always set and waves will always lap at the earth’s shore. 

It was your most indulgent form of escapism. It was where you decided to grow past the woes of your broken heart and begin anew. This decision, however, was not nearly as difficult to make. There was only one true option in your mind for you and even though that rational and annoying part of your brain questioned the logistics of entering a relationship that already had roots and branches and leaves that had fallen and grew back again. You were sure flowers even bloomed and died for them a million times over. It wasn’t a question of if you should take this chance, but how willing you were to give yourself away entirely. 

Insecurities that you carried around for far longer than you cared to admit still mingled and nestled their way into your life. But you were tired of allowing them to dictate who you were and what love you were deserving of. Because in front of you, beside you, and surrounding you was a love being offered in its purest form. And in some comically ironic way, if you denied yourself that it would be the most selfish thing you ever did. 

You took one last grounding breath before peeling yourself away from the railing that separated you from the water. It was resolute and for the first time in quite awhile, there was no doubt clouding your mind and obscuring your thoughts. It was as clear as the skies overhead and your heart wasn’t sitting heavily in your chest like you had become accustomed to. 

On the way home, you stopped by the bakery you knew had the lemon cake Levi was so fond of. Then from there, you stopped by the grocery store to grab some white wine to accompany it. It almost felt like you were trying to impress them. Which brought a small smile to your face because you kind of were. And even though you had sat in their home and them in yours dozens of times before eating and drinking wine, you knew that the outcome of this one would be drastically different. 

You thought of Erwin’s kiss as you rode the train through downtown and how even in a fit of such volatile emotions, his lips were earnest and tender as they pressed against yours. It annoyed you a little that that was how your first kiss went after so many nights imagining a hundred different scenarios. The passion was always there in the moments you allowed yourself to daydream, but there was none of that angry insecurity you seemed to harbor so closely to your chest last night. 

It was a disservice to everyone the way you reacted, but you were grateful that when you knocked on their door, cake and wine in hand, Erwin greeted you. His hair was slightly messy like he never washed out the product from the night before. He also looked comfortable in a graphic t-shirt you knew wasn’t his, but Miche’s after he spilled a drink on his own shirt one night at the bar. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes like it usually did. And that sight alone had guilt creeping up your throat like bile. 

“Can I come in?” You asked, shy and unsure. 

“Yeah,” he said, voice scratchy from lack of use as he side stepped to let you through the door. 

Their home smelled like freshly brewed coffee. Their drip machine still gurgled in the corner to indicate that a pot was ready. The air was tense despite the comfort you found in their space. And you walked over to the island, like you had done so many times before, with measured steps so as to not disturb whatever illusion of peace the atmosphere carried. 

You heard Erwin’s footsteps retreat behind you and you assumed he was walking down the hall to get Levi. Suddenly, nerves washed over you like nausea on a swaying boat in the middle of the Atlantic. Your mouth filled with saliva yet your throat was too dry to swallow and all the words you carefully practiced in your head were gone. Not a single one remained and were instead replaced with a sprawling landscape of nothing. 

Before you had the chance to come up with anything, you heard them return. It was Levi’s voice that broke the silence, but instead of turning around to face them you opened the box that held the lemon cake. Only twisting around to look at them once it was securely out of its container. 

“I brought cake,” you offered meekly, hands gesturing to the small pastry on their island. The tension was so incredibly thick you felt like you might as well have been at the bottom of the ocean. The weight of being crushed by water would have probably been easier than this. Not to be dramatic. 

“I see that,” Levi said, face serious and eyes skeptical as he looked between your awkward fidgeting and the cake beside you. You realized rather belatedly that they were not going to save you from this mess you created. They waited, Levi impatiently and Erwin impatiently amused. You could tell because he seemed to be enjoying the view of you squirming even though his lips were set in a thin line, his eyes told a wildly different story. You decided to rip off the bandaid.

“Maybe I freaked out a little last night,” you said, pathetic and a bit dismissively.

“Maybe?” Levi.

“A little?” Erwin. 

“Ok fine. I definitely freaked out last night,” you amended, hands wringing together in front of you as you looked through the sliver of space between them. Your eyes drew up to the ceiling as you took a deep breath, stress and anxiety holding hands within your body. 

“After I realized that I wanted more from this relationship than just friendship, I became almost obsessed with the idea of losing you,” you admitted, eyes still averted. “And I understand how dramatic that might sound, but my life here would be nothing without either of you in it so I settled. I settled for friends with this really weird undercurrent of sexual tension.”

You heard a breathy chuckle and when you looked over, you were surprised to see that it was Levi. His head was bowed and he was shaking it softly from one side to the other. There was a smile on his face that he attempted to hide from you. The sight baffled you. And it wasn’t like Levi never laughed. 

“What’s so funny?” There was obvious petulance in your tone, you couldn’t help it. Stomping your proverbial foot. 

“You,” he answered, looking up at you between the curtains of his bangs. “You’re funny. You’re also ridiculous. And occasionally irrational. Emotional-”

“Ok,” you interrupted, not appreciating the sudden onslaught of insults. 

“And smart. Too smart to be this in denial about our situation.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Levi,” you huffed, annoyed now.

“And pretty, which makes it hard to ever stay mad at you even when I want to be.”

You blushed. Hot and fierce. It shouldn’t have been this easy to disarm you. But it clearly was. And now he was stepping closer to you and you couldn’t move. Not that you wanted to. It also was no longer a problem. You didn’t have to force space between you whenever tensions became too thick. Too unbearable. 

You looked at Erwin over Levi’s shoulder. He winked. Your face grew hotter. Levi could surely feel the rise in your temperature whenever his hand lifted to cup your cheek. 

“Can we just go back to normal now? You were starting to give me a stress headache,” he said, face closer than it had ever been. 

“I think we’re actually in a weirder place than we started,” you responded, a whispered laugh punctuating your sentence with nerves. 

“No,” he shook his head, smiling as his thumb moved to caress the apple of your cheek. “We’re exactly where we should’ve been months ago.”

Your eyes drifted to his lips. The same lips you almost kissed once before. You swallowed thickly. God, you wanted to kiss him so bad, but he was taking forever. 

When your eyes lifted to look at him, he was already looking at you. His eyes were dark and he waited, as if awaiting your permission. He had it. He’s had it for such a long time. But maybe he needed something more. Something more explicit. But words were so useless to you from the moment you stepped into their home.

Instead your hands rose to hold his face, fingers feeling the short cropped hair at the back of his head. You didn’t want to wait anymore. You were so sick of waiting. Your whole life was spent just waiting. Wasting time. Mourning moments lost to the ticking hands of a clock. 

So without thought or a morsel of apprehension you kissed him. His lips were soft and his mouth tasted of coffee. The world went fuzzy as your vision blacked out and all you could feel was him. 

His free hand found your waist and he tugged you closer. He was so warm. His fingers felt hot as they drifted down your cheek to your neck. Sparks were everywhere. Skirting across your exposed skin. Rioting behind your eyelids. 

Oh, the kiss was better than anything your imagination could ever conjure. It felt so right. Just like Erwin’s. It was perfect. And you hated how long it took you to take this leap. Your body fit so wonderfully against his. 

Goosebumps. They erupted when his fingers somehow slipped beneath the hem of your t-shirt. You gasped. Touch-starved wouldn’t even begin to explain how deprived you have been. 

“Ehem,” Erwin cleared his throat. The lusty, dense fog that hung over your kiss dissipated. You jolted away from Levi out of shock. 

You forgot you were being watched. Your skin was far too hot. Your clothes were now constricting. And when you looked at Erwin, your fingers pressing against your lips, his eyes were darker than you’ve ever seen them. The blue was nearly gone, overtaken but his black pupils. And his ears were a deep scarlet.

Erwin looked relaxed but you knew he wasn’t. His shoulders were too tight. His breathing was too ragged. Uneven. He was barely restraining himself. 

“I was thinking,” you started, voice roughened from an arousal that was erupting erratically beneath your skin. Levi was looking at you reverently. It shocked you because the furrow between his brows and the way his eyes narrowed could be mistaken for anger. But you knew better. 

He wanted you. Your stomach twisted and your lips parted and something wild was rattling between your three bodies. Untamed. 

“I was thinking,” you started again, looking down at the counter, eyes trained on the cake you brought. Your voice was wobbly, hands sweating.

“We should go on a date,” you said quickly, everything rushed out in a breath. 

Erwin’s laugh boomed in the quiet of their home. It was loud, shocked, and his muscles eased. He nearly doubled over. The laughing was contagious. It struck Levi first, who’s hand rose to massage the bridge of his nose and his shoulders shook. 

Your lips pursed to one side in an attempt not to join them. Unsure of what was so comical. But understanding that it effectively burst the bubble of desire that was surely about to kill you.

“We’ve been on a million dates,” Erwin said between chuckles. 

“No,” you pointed at him with a light laugh of your own. “We’ve hung out as friends. Friends who lacked real boundaries but still friends.”

“What are we gonna do? Go to dinner?” He asked, taunting your suggestion. But all in good fun.

“No, not dinner,” you rolled your eyes. “Something different. Romantic.”

“Like what?” Levi asked, skeptical, face still red from kissing you. 

“I’ll plan it.” You grabbed your bag that you dropped onto one of the barstools when you first arrived and slung it over your shoulder. Excitement shot through you. Raw; unbridled excitement. You wanted to do something silly. Like jump up and down. Or twirl in dizzying circles. Your smile nearly split your face. 

“Next Saturday be prepared to be romanced.”