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thelikesoffinn · 8 months

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„Astarion ending as the Vampire Ascendant is the correct ending for him, because it is what he wants.”

That is a claim I’ve been seeing pop up more and more often these days. And I think it’s both a very bold and a very odd claim to make.

But first things first: Hello, I’m a licensed social worker! So far, I’ve worked with children, refugees and youths with behavioural issues stemming from bullying and or abuse.

Please be aware that I will be mentioning different kinds of abuse, coping mechanisms, and victim/abuser relationships. If any of this is difficult for you, don’t force yourself through it. My jabbering about a traumatised vampire is not worth your wellbeing, not ever.

I will, however try to stick to Astarion and not use other examples. If, in any case, I do use a non-Astarion example, I’ll add a warning beforehand so that you can skip the part. And I’ll make it clear what will be discussed in the next bit, so that you have a chance to skip it entirely.

This is an effort to make this as accessible as possible for everyone that wants to indulge on a mad woman’s rambling – and I know there’s a few people that like this sort of stuff!

And, uh, there's obviously spoilers for all three acts. Serious spoilers, even.

Before I can get into the whole ‘why Astarion didn’t really want to ascend,’ we need to understand him a little more. And to understand this pretty boy’s brain, we first need to understand the gist of what we’re talking about when we throw around the word ‘abuse.’

“Abuse” is when someone is treated with cruelty, violence, or neglect – often to bad effect – on a regular basis. Repetitively. Check’s out for Astarion, I’d say, but we all knew that already. I mean, if one thing was obvious, it was this.

1. Astarions Abuse

Next we need to look at what kind of abuse Astarion faced over his long years of torment, seeing as different types of abuse will have different effects on the victim.

Not that that is anything we have to worry about with him – Astarion won the abuse lottery, to put it bluntly. In a horrible game of fate, he got everything. He himself indirectly mentions all the types of abuse he faced, albeit never using the correct terms.

The first we properly notice – fitting, seeing as it is often the most obvious form of abuse – is the physical abuse. Astarions scars are probably the biggest tell Larian could shove down our throats, only underlined by Astarion’s tale about the night itself. About how Cazador ‘misspelled something’ every time he flinched or screamed and had to do ‘many corrections. On top of this, Cazador locked Astarion up for months on end and tortured him – or had him tortured – on a regular basis both as a rite and as a punishment.

Next up, we have the fact that Astarion was forced to basically prostitute himself repeatedly. This is what we call sexual exploitation.

“I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master.” – Act 2

Two hundred years is a long time, filled with great many people. Now, we don’t know how many of those people actually tapped into the sexual exploitation and how many he could just lure back with other means, but the fact that it happened a lot is undeniable.

Next we have a form of abuse that we often disregard in adults: Neglect. It sounds odd, I know, saying that a fully grown adult was neglected. They can care for themselves, can they not?

Well. Yes and no.

Adult neglect is proceeded by the condition that one adult has to lean on another adult to fulfil their needs for whatever reason. This could be anything, from disability to income-based issues.

Seeing as Astarion had absolutely nothing, while Cazador had everything, we can assume this was the case. Cazador had the house, the money, the power. Astarion owns but one pair of clothes, assumedly, that he has fixes over and over again. Fair to say, that’s pretty neglectful. (And it’s one more reason to shower the guy in pretty armour and camp clothes. Go ham, people.)

Last we have the form of abuse we actually get to witness later in the game – emotional abuse.

Once again, it’s undeniable that this happened. Especially since we’re all seeing it in the flesh upon meeting Cazador in his crypt.

“Have you no respect for yourself?”

“I strove for perfection in all things. Even those as imperfect as you.”

“A pity you amounted to so little, despite my efforts.”

“A pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.”

All Act 3, Crypt

Here we have just a few examples of things Cazador throws in his face. It’s like reading a textbook on emotional abuse, this one (and it’s definitely a reason to throw hands).

Blaming the victim, keeping their sense of self and their self-worth as tiny as possible to make them cower and flee. A true classic.

This pretty much shows that Astarion suffered all forms of abuse we commonly see and it is implied – once again by Astarion himself – that at least a few of those instances were ritualistic.

Now, what does that mean exactly? Well, I fear I need to use a real example here, so please skip the next paragraph.

Ritualistic doesn’t refer to a proper ritual – it can, but that’s mostly a thing for those in a cult. So, we’re not necessarily talking about a ‘Vampire Ascendent Ritual’. A husband, beating his wife every evening after his third bottle of beer is also called ritual abuse. It happens regularly. It is part of a routine. Both parties know what will happen.

I can’t find the exact quote, so I’m working of my memory here, but at one point he said that when Cazador invited him to eat and he said yes, he would be served a putrid rat. If he said no, he’d be beaten.

The way it was phrased made it clear that it happened more than once and that Astarion clearly knew what would happen. So, this can be classified as ritualistic abuse.

2. A Note on Conditioning and Compliance

By default, abuse victims are conditioned to behave a certain way or in a certain fashion. This is a natural response to avoid further abuse.

In Astarion, the thing we see most often is his inherent need to please. Not literally, he doesn’t mind being an arsehole. But he initially feels the need to follow Tav’s orders, even if they go against his own wishes.

This can be clearly seen in the conversation with Araj Oblodra. Astarion very clearly doesn’t want to bite her. He doesn’t. But he will do so, if Tav tells him to. This behaviour is not conscious – he doesn’t know why he does it, he just does – and it is to be expected. This is how he kept himself save for two centuries, so of course he will fall back into his usual pattern when the pressure is high.

This goes hand in hand with the fact that most abuse victims don’t fight. Maybe initially, but not after long term abuse. Especially not after two fucking centuries.

This is true in Astarion – offered by his ‘siblings’ during act 3 and unhappily acquiesced by the man himself. Astarion stopped fighting and, once again implied, cowered, and did as he was told in order to survive.

3. The Astarion we know and love

Obviously, all that abuse does have an impact on our vampire boyfriend. He shows various common signs of abuse and just like with the forms of abuse, Astarion raked every coping mechanism he could find. (Not really, but it feels like it.) It’s also important to note that nearly all of the following things happen inwardly. Astarion is not one of the victims, that tries to rationalise and minimise the actions of his abuser. Quite the opposite, actually.

I’ll note from the beginning, that rationalisation will not be covered in this bit, as most examples will be important later on. But he definitely does it.

One of his biggest skills is to hide every ounce of fear or hurt behind sarcasm and snarky theatrics. He doesn’t seem to hide his anger much, though, so that’s something! Our boy is cool with anger, not so much with being afraid.

“Ahahaha, now that you mention it….I might have done…that.” – Act 3, regarding the Gur children

“The thing that will decide my fate forever more? Yeees, it’s been on my miiiind. Why?” – Act 2, regarding the Ritual

And there’s many more instances that prove this. Honestly, half his dialogue is sarcasm, so it would really be too long to get into and we all know what I mean, right? We have alltalked to the guy before. It’s obvious that he’s sarcastic to a fault.

This goes hand in hand with his penchant for defensiveness. I would personally state that he’s simply not really good with guilt. When talking about fear, he usually just opts for sarcasm or avoids the topic completely, but guilt especially has his defences going up. This is also when he’s most likely to shove all the blame off to Cazador.

“Don’t look at me like that. Cazadors orders.” – Act 3, Crypt

“I just did what I had to!” – Act 3, Crypt

And don’t get me wrong, he does that anyway. And with good reason. Astarion didn’t have a choice for the most part, but he’s still easy to shove things off.

This kind of connects to his penchant for denial.

Astarion doesn’t really like to talk about most things. He firmly believes he is an ‘action’ sort of person that just does instead of plans, which invertedly just means he’s great at pushing the thinking stuff away. He also likes to get rid of stuff, so that he doesn’t need to face it ever again.

“I never want to see these little scraps of misery again. The world doesn’t need to know my shame.” – Act 3, about the children

And yes, this partly rings true. He’s probably ashamed and doesn’t want anyone to know what he’s done. But it’s also very clear that he himself simply doesn’t want to face his own actions, something that is just underlined by his extreme willingness to red rid of the other spawn.

As mentioned by Astarion himself, he’s big on manipulation. I mean, I don’t think there is much explaining necessary. The guy is willing to do a whole lot in order to get what he desires – which mostly revolves around safety and survival, to be honest – and he’s not really shy about it either. And that’s despite the fact that he doesn’t really like intimacy – especially in form of sex.

It’s not a secret that Astarion is not big on sex and anything surrounding it. This goes far enough for people to consider him either ace or ace coded.

A claim that, personally, I’m not super in line with.

Now, it’s not entirely wrong and if this is your head cannon I’m surely not going to stand in your way – but on a larger spectrum, I think he’s more traumatised than ace. And while those go hand in hand sometimes, it’s a bit difficult for the ace community if you attach traumatised characters to them because it can fuel a whole lot of stigma that is honestly neither needed nor wanted. But I digress!

If it comes to his own behaviour, he’s great at minimising his mistakes. Honestly, he’s a master of minimisation. A very obvious and famous example would be:

“’Killed’ feels like a…strong word. Not many corpses have your vigour.” – Act 1, after killing Tav

Astarion. You literally sucked poor Tav dry and left them flopping around, cold, and dead. Killed is exactly the right word and we all know it.

“Quite the deviation from my usual routine. Capture, not lure. I didn’t bring them in with sweet rolls or anything.” – Act 3, Gur Children

This is another attempt at minimising what he did, if a bit less obvious because at this point there isn’t much he can say. But at least he didn’t sexualise the gur children, right? They’re still spawn but whoo, at least that didn’t happen.

The next point would be dissociation, which is extremely common in abuse victims – of all forms of abuse.

Astarion himself mentioned certain moments that could be classified as dissociation over course of the story, which is probably the coping mechanism I personally expected the most.

The pale elf has a penchant for violence, but he’s not entirely shameless or abhorrently vile, which gets clearer the more the story progresses. So, two hundred years of forced prostitution, torture and doing whatever other horrible things? Yeah, I’d be more surprised if he didn’t dissociate.

Examples of that would be:

“A moment of disgust to push myself through and then I could’ve carried on, just like before.” – Act 2, after Araj

“I felt nothing the moment I handed them over.” – Act 3, Gur Children

“Did you enjoy it? It felt like you weren’t fully there.” – Act 1, Tav after Sex

The latter is generally more of an assumption than actual prove, but with context it does make sense.

The last common sign of abuse we find in our boyfriend would be his low self-worth. It’s a consistent trait that stays over the course of all three acts, noticeable in many different conversations.

We can see it in his reaction to wanting to break up before finishing his story. We can see it in his genuine surprise when Tav picks him over any of the other characters. We see it in his insecurity whenever Tav asks to sleep with another character. He’s fine with it, but he still worries their decision to sleep with someone else is based on something he did.

It eases up ever so slightly after Cazador is dead, but even then he’s still struggling which is once again perfectly illustrated if you try to break up with him.

“Oh shit. I- Did I do something wrong?”

That is the first thing he asks and I think it speaks for itself. He genuinely doesn’t believe he has much to offer and for Astarion, it’s likely that Astarion will always be the problem.

4. "Oh, I tried them all none of them answered.”

Another big thing that’s important to note, is that Astarion was never saved. No one came to save him from Cazador. There was no darling boy on a white steed riding into that castle to rescue him and princess carry him away. Not even the gods answered his desperate calls.

So, he never received any kindness or luck. To him, the world seems as cruel and horrid as before because he didn’t have the chance to experience goodness in two centuries.

But worse than that, he didn’t even get to save himself. Astarion didn’t stand up to Cazador, he didn’t run out of his own might.

He was beaten to near death and ‘saved’ by Cazador, who would become his abuser.

He tried to save someone and, in turn, was locked up and starved for an entire year.

He was abducted by mind flayers, i.e., saved from Cazador, only to end up tadpoled and on the cusp of getting a fancy, squiddy beard.

Anything that’s good, any kindness, any selfless action…it all came with a ginormous price tag.

5. Over the Course of the Story

Astarions behaviour changes a whole lot over the course of three acts – which is important once we talk about his quests climax – so let’s review what we’re working with!

Act 1 Astarion is guarded as fuck. The man has walls around him that are so high, even the gods can touch them.

A lot of his behaviour in act 1 revolves around staying save and staying liked. He lies, manipulates, and flutters his lashes in order to get what he wants and needs. Instead of asking, like Wyll, Karlach and Gale do, Astarion uses all he has to offer to get by. He is still very much in survival mode and tries to weasel his way through an unfamiliar situation with familiar methods.

On top of that, and most notably, he’s absolutely not fond of kindness or selflessness.

#I saved a child and now my boyfriend is mad

Here, we are most likely to gain disapproval for doing the decent thing – unless you sent him outside for a minute whenever you’re being a good person.

And I’d assume that this is because of two things.

First: The very traditional ‘Why not me?’

As I mentioned before, Astarion wasn’t saved. He hasn’t experienced kindness in a very long time so seeing that the world is literally filled with kind people is hurtful. Why didn’t anyone save him? Why was he left to his own devices for so long? Why should he care about others when it’s so clear that no one ever cared about him? No, dead to all of them. If he didn’t get it, neither will they.

“And what am I owed? What about the injustices I suffered? Am I not entitled to anything?” – Act 3, Crypt

“I was in the prime of my life when I was turned. Everything was taken from me too.” – Act 3, Crypt

And secondly is the fact that, as I mentioned, goodness always has a price. And it’s one most people won’t be willing to pay. That’s how his life has been, so why would theirs be different?

This is precisely why Astarion may disapprove of kind actions, but he mostly neither approves nor disapproves if Tav asks for payment. That’s just how the world works.

Once you venture out into act 2, after getting to know him a whole lot more, he starts to mellow a bit – if only towards Tav.

“He’s afraid, so afraid, of everyone but you, who she should fear the most.” – Sceleritas about Astarion

His approval is a lot easier to gain – or at least keep! – and he tends to approve of some more proper actions. He doesn’t throw a fit if you promise to find Mol, he approves of Tav being kind to His Majesty, of saving Aylin and he even approves of Durge apologising to Isobel after threatening to rip her to pieces.

He's slowly starting to open up, allowing Tav to see some parts of him he previously kept hidden. He accepts their offer to help, if hesitantly and, by god, the man starts experimenting with boundaries.

The social worker in me is shedding tears at this. It’s my favourite thing to see in my clients and it’s no different here. Yay to saying no!

Of course, it’s still a bit hit or miss. If Tav urges him to bite Araj, for example, he will only to later notice that he didn’t fucking have to. He recognises this on his own and he calls Tav out on it. Just like he calls them out on not helping him with his Orthon quest.

Good job, chap. Good fucking job.

And the growth-train won’t stop going even as we reach act 3.

In act 3, there’s not many things he disapproves as of right now – those he does, mostly have to do with how Tav treats him and not with anyone else. In fact, he’s more likely to approve good behaviour now, like giving Yenna food or money.

And yes, we need to consider that this could simply be because he gets used to Tav’s behaviour and just learns to roll with it. But it’s also highly likely that he notices that there’s truly good people around. At least one person. And that person is not only good, no, they’re in the process of helping him break free once and for all.

They’re helping him save himself.

By act 3, he has learned that he can absolutely say his piece where Tav is concerned and he’s more likely to disagree with them on certain things. It’s seen during a lot of small dialogue that he’s no longer terribly afraid to be honest with them, willing to listen and talk and he’ll ask for help if he needs it.

“I can do this. But I need your help.” – Act 3, Crypt

Something that can be viewed both positively and negatively is that he’s definitely loyal to a fault. He will stick by Tav’s side, no matter what.

“I really hoped we could avoid being pawns for a dark god, but here we are, I suppose. I’m with you, my dear, wherever this might lead.” – Act 3, After Jaheira confronts durge

As I said, this can be both positive and negative. On one count, it’s a recipe for disaster, seeing as he could be waltzing into a really bad situation for Tav alone.

But on the other side…this is a man who only cared about himself because that is the only person he could afford to care about. He needed to survive. He now has enough room to breathe and the capacity to care for someone else and I’d be inclined to count that as a good thing.

6. The Crypt

All the progress he made in act 2 and 3 is nearly tossed into the wind as soon as the crew enters Cazadors castle.

It’s not an immediate thing, of course.

At first, Astarion tries to stay light and simple and he hides behind flippant tones and relaxed faces. The way he recounts this is almost comically disinterested and the façade is actually quite good.

It’s start’s cracking after we meet Godie, one of the people who tortured him on more than one account, but he mostly manages to remain as upbeat as one can honestly expect for the first half of the journey.

All that, however, is done for the very moment we meet Sebastian. His mask not only slips, no, it full on shatters and there’s none of his apparent lightness left.

Which, of course it does.

The man is suddenly faced with years and years and years of victims. Innocent, unlucky people he lured back to his master over two centuries. People he liked, people he pitied.

“It’s sickening, seeing them again.”

It’s basically a room filled with guilt, exclusively for Astarion. And, as we mentioned before…Astarion is not great with guilt.

The guilt, however, is not where it ends.

No, he’s also faced with reflections of his own past. The spawn pose as reminders of what he did, sure, but also as reminders of what he was.

Weak, desperate, hungry.

There’s an abundance of images of his worst moments, reflected back at him in the thousands. It’s probably like staring into a funhouse mirror, but instead of seeing yourself in a funky way he just sees everything he so desperately doesn’t want to be.

“It should be [who I am]! I don’t want to be like them. They’re pathetic, horrible…”

He’s forcefully made aware of how darn weak he can be, which claws at all the wounds he’s barely had time to close. Something, he of course won’t admit if asked.

“THEY DO NOT [remind me of myself]. That weakness in me is dead, IT’S DEAD. I have a higher purpose.”

The high pressure of the moment brings out all of his act 1 traits in but a few moments. You can pretty much watch how he starts to shut down mid conversation, one of his old walls snapping back into place to remove himself from the situation.

Thing is though, walls usually become a bit brittle after disuse. Especially when talking to a person you don’t usually want to wall out.

Or, in his case, when talking to Tav.

After meeting Sebastian, Astarion shows extreme reactions to Tav nudging any of his weak spots. His reaction varies on whatever choice you make, but it ranges from aggression to defensiveness, to denial and even to downright begging Tav.

“Don’t hate me. I just did what I had to. I swear I did what I had to.”

This probably the most shocking out of all of them, since that is not something we got to witness before. The begging is likely a mixture of intense fear of losing Tav, his low self-esteem and pre-Tav behaviour, since we can assume that Cazador made him beg more than once.

Another old coat he puts back on would also be the least surprising of them all.

Manipulation.

He falls right back into it, using Tav’s affection to get what he want if we trigger the right action.

“If they die and I ascend, I won't have to rely on the parasite to walk in the sun. I'll be free. Truly completely free. Isn't that what you want?”

This, to me, was probably the biggest tell that Astarion was back in survival mode. He’s panicking, for fucks sake, and who can blame the guy? He’s back. He’s about to face down his abuser.

Of course he’s fucking panicking.

Panic leads to an increased craving for safety and, in his case, power. This is why he clings to Tav, why he begs them to love him still. And this is why he jumps head first into the rationalisation pool.

“I will need to sacrifice them all if I want to perform the ritual. - [You can save them.] – What’s the point? They're as good as dead! I thought they were dead. If they are unleashed, they will cause incredible carnage. […] They must die. Better they serve a purpose.”

Another textbook example.

They must die anyway. They’re basically dead. No need to save them now. They’re dangerous, I’m doing the right thing by sacrificing them. I already thought they were dead, so it’s not changing anything for me. They’re a lost cause and I deserve all this power. I deserve it, because I suffered and nothing will change if they die.

So, seeing as we already spoke about his usual behaviour in act 3 – behaviour he showed after we allowed him to breathe and be himself for a while – I think we can fairly easily conclude he’s not thinking straight.

Astarion is right back in survival mode, where all that matters is he himself. If it weren’t for the seven thousand spawns, he might have moved through this more gracefully, but seeing those tipped the scales and Astarion is absolutely losing it.

Remember that for the last section, per favore.

7. The Ascension

“Astarion wants to ascend and Tav manipulates him into doing what they want.”

That is basically the essence of what people often claim and I can’t help but shake my head at such a blatant disregard of everything he has become. This is completely ignoring the change and growth he has gone through over the course of their journey.

Astarion wants to be free. He wants to be safe. That does not mean he wants to ascend.

And the claim that Tav manipulates him into doing anything is even more baffling. We are all aware that Tav is not manipulative by nature, yes? That is entirely on you. You decide who your Tav is.

And then let’s remember: Astarion is panicked. He’s afraid and he’s not thinking straight. His abuser is on his knees before him and he still feels so weak. And there’s seven thousand spawns that need handling.

Astarion is very much not okay right now.

In fact, reading his thoughts just proves this theory.

“You can see the fear in his eyes but also the hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close is intoxicating to him. All he can see is the power of the ritual and the freedom that power brings. The freedom to do anything. To be anything.”

Tav, however, has none of those problems. They can actually see beyond the current situation and they are fully aware what the consequences are. Astarion is not. As we previously established, Astarion is a doer. Not a thinker. He didn’t think this through, not at all.

The only thing Tav is doing – the persuasion roll – is reminding him of the very real consequences he is facing. The consequences he hasn’t thought about before.

"I know you think this will set you free, but it won't. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador."

And that is the kindest thing Tav could do in this situation. They’re not bodily dragging him away from Cazador. They’re not even telling him to not do it. They’re just offering him the truth. He can do with that information whatever he desires.

“Astarion cries when he doesn’t ascend, that just shows that it was the wrong choice.”

A hare-brained point that I thankfully have only seen once so far.

That crying? That is healthy crying.

That is him, crumbling under the stress that suddenly dissipates. That is him mourning two hundred years of torment. That’s him letting out feelings he hasn’t been able to for centuries.

And, for the love of god, try to put yourself in his shoes.

Two hundred years of torment, ended in but a moment.

Astarion was abused and tortured for so long, afraid for so long only to see his tormentor die just like that.

Cazador died within a moment and all Astarion needed was a darn blade. Of course he fucking cries.

Seeing how pathetic a being the very core of your life’s misery actually is hurts. It hurts like hell because not only are you finally free – free! – no, you’re faced with the fact that this pile of nothing, the thing that’s bleeding out right in front of you…this was what tortured for so long.

This thing hurt you so much. That guy took everything from you, everything you once were, and broke it again and again and again over years.

You were so scared of this thing.

And yet he has the gall and the gumption to die just like that.

It was so easy.

And yet you suffered for so long.

8. Evil Playthrough?

An evil playthrough is really a different setting altogether.

All of this, as you can probably tell, is really only applicable on a good playthrough. Realistically speaking. I’m not sure how the game mechanics handle it.

On an evil path, Astarion never really gets to experience kindness and goodness. Evil Tav will just prove him right in his believe that the world is a vile and cold place, meaning that he realistically would be more inclined to actually want to ascend.

9. Final Conclusion

I think all of this should be enough to make it clear that no, ascended Astarion is not the best ending for the guy. In fact, it is probably the worst. Because it’s just him, running away. He’s running into a lonely and cold state of being, where cruelty and power lord over everything else and he’s running because he’s terrified of being hurt again. He’s running despite desperately wanting to stop running.

“I'll spend the rest of my life running watching the shadows, never feeling safe…no, this has to happen. Here and now.”

And, the worst part is: Nothing about Astarion is left after he ascends. Even his tone of speaking gradually changes, his theatrics fading. He’s slowly losing himself, until there’s nothing but an evil caricature left.

So, in the end, ascension will have proven him right.

That version of him is dead.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate #bg3 #astarion #the dark urge #tav #astarion romance #astarion ancunin #astarion and tav #bg3 act 1 #bg3 act 2 #bg3 act 3 #act 3 #act 2 #act 1 #araj oblodra

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lookwhatitcost · 17 days

Text

I miss the way you say my name.

Authors note: I had this idea on my flight back home, I hope you like it!

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader!

Warnings!: smut, fingering, oral (F receiving), mentions of cheating, angst. Let me know if I need to add more!

Tags!: @xxkittenkissesxx @starsomens @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram

You and Noah had broken up exactly 1 month and 8 days ago. Why you may ask? He fucked up. he had broken up with you for reasons that you didn't know why, you always thought that he wasn't ready or that you were just another girl he had then left, and him breaking up with you out of the blue almost confirmed those thoughts.

Flashback.

"Noah why? Why do you not want me anymore?" You said with hot tears rolling down your face.

"I don't know y/n I just, can't anymore. I can't keep pretending that I want this to keep going anymore."

"Well you know what noah? Fuck you. Fuck you for letting me spend 3 FUCKING YEARS OF MY LIFE with you just so you could throw it out the window like it was nothing."

"Y/N baby-" he said clearly trying to calm you down.

"Don't fucking baby me Noah you know what you're doing and its your choice. I'm fucking leaving." You said with anger coming out of you.

"Don't leave, l don't want you to hate me because of this."

"well then you failed miserably. Goodbye noah" you said standing up to leave you and Noah's shared apartment. But you felt his hand grasp your wrist to halt you from leaving.

"Y/N I need you to fucking understand that I don't want you to get mad, but I can't do this, I've been thinking and I don't think this is going to work, At. All." His words broke your heart in 2 seconds.

"What was it noah? Was it the fact that we could never spend time together because you were always so fucking 'busy' with work!?! Huh? Was it because most of the fucking time I had spent trying to help you with everything but you just chose to fucking ignore me!"

"Oh now you're gonna blame it on me working my ass off on tour and bad omens because of this!?! No, you know what Y/N fuck you. You have never appreciated what I do for you and me! All you do is complain and complain like the fucking brat you are!" When he said that you felt as if you had a different person in front of you, of course you had Noah had your fights and your arguments but he would never insult you like that. that was your last straw. So you said what would hurt him most.

"Well, its not like you ever actually loved me to begin with, so I expected this from you. I hope you find someone as fucked up as you to love you properly, because apparently I never did. Bye Noah." You knew Noah loved you he always stated that, but you knew that would break his heart, you not feeling loved by him. Gently getting out of his grasp you walked to the front door and left your home.

1 month, 8 days later...

As you lay down on your bed after running some errands in the morning all you think about is the thing you've been thinking about for the past month, constantly trying to get it out of your brain. Noah. You thought of all the love, the hate, the good, the bad that happened in the span of 3 years together, but today it wasn't just thinking about him because you miss him, you had to actually see him today, at Folio's party. He had said "you don't have to go if you don't want to especially if Noah is gonna be a problem." But you had said that you wouldn't miss it for the world and decided to face your fears of seeing Noah again.

As you got ready you fixed your hair that was in a curly blowout and looked over yourself in the mirror one last time checking if you looked good with the rock-ish style makeup you were wearing. You will admit you got a little more dressed up than usual wearing, a black mini skirt and corset set, with platform leather boots and a leather jacket for the chill that was upon the month of October. No you didn't get dressed up to make Noah jealous... ok well maybe you did but who cares anyway?

Later on...

You got to the guys house approximately 10 minutes ago, the entire time you've been sitting in your car debating wether you actually want to face Noah. You were thinking of leaving and making an excuse by saying you didn't feel well to folio, well that was until he knocked on your car window. You rolled it down to reveal folio and his sheepish smile.

"Hiiiii Y/N, are you coming in anytime soon?" He said while hanging on to the car.

"Uh yeah sorry I was uh lost in thought." You said trying to make up an excuse.

You and folio walked up to the house and went inside, you saw the familiar place and you started to get a feeling of regret deep in your mind, but you also remembered all the beautiful memories you had made with the guys here.

"Y/N! Long time no fucking see huh?" You heard the stupid ass voice of Matt say. "Oh shit, hi Matt haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah I hope we can hang out more these next couple of weeks before we go on tour!" He said, you didn't know Bad Omens were going on tour at all. But you guessed since you're not really apart of their lives anymore they wouldn't tell you.

"Oh! You guys are going on tour?"

"yeah! I thought you would've seen it on social media by now, sorry I didn't tell you." Matt said.

"No problem! Its just unexpected, you know."

You had a nice conversation with most of the guys and caught up on things you'd missed this past month everything was great, that was until the part you most dreaded of the night happened. Seeing Noah. He had came up to one of the guys and when he saw you he mirrored your position and froze, no saying anything, no moving, until he muttered a quick "hi Y/N." all you could say was "hi ba- noah. Sorry." He looked good, in his stupid shorts with the dumb white tank top you used to take off of him. you quietly cursed yourself for not having a drink before doing this so you wouldn't feel the heat that rushed into your core when you saw him lick his lips and rub his neck, so you decided to opt for the best option, leaving the party. You quickly turned to the guys to tell them "Uh I gotta go thank you guys for inviting me here, I'll see you all soon." You felt Matt gently grab your wrist and ask you "are you okay? You've only been here for 30 minutes." You tried to come up with a quick response. "Yeah I'm fine. I just gotta wake up early tomorrow, got a lot to do." You hoped this would suffice for an excuse. Fortunately it did, you managed to say your goodbyes and go to leave the house, well you thought it was great and fun until Noah ran up to you.

"Y/N!" He called after you.

"Yeah Noah?"

"Can we talk? In private?" You didn't know whether to run away or face it and actually clear things up with him.

"Um, Yeah sure" you said nodding slightly. "Um well we can go to my room, to have privacy." You felt slightly nervous as you were walking up the stairs to his room, when you walked in you thought you would feel weird since he had moved out after breaking up with you, but actually felt a sense of warmth and comfort. He motioned for you to take a seat on the bed, so you did next to him.

"Look Y/N I'm not gonna make small talk, I want to explain everything that had happened. The warm and comfort was gone, now I was just fucking overloading with nerves.

"Go ahead."

"Um okay well. The night that I had broken up with you wasn't because I didn't want to be with you, I had fucked up, big time." I knew what he was gonna say next "I miss you, I was so wrong to let you go." I wasn't gonna hear him if thats what's he was gonna say so I just said. "Look Noah if you are gonna say you miss me and want to get back together its not gonna work, I don't know why I'm wasting my time." I tried to stand up but I got pushed back down by Noah.

"Y/N can you fucking hear me out for once, please?"

"fine."

"as I was saying, I didn't break up with you because I wanted to, I broke up with you because I felt guilty."

"and by that you mean??"

"you remember that before we broke up we had gone to a bar with the guys when we were on the trip in New York three days prior?"

"Yeah I remember that, that's when you started getting distant from me."

"Um well, that day I had um, cheated on you. But not for the reasons that you think." I froze I felt like my body was alive but my soul was completely dead. Noah had cheated on me? I had to keep my cool.

"What. The. Fuck. Do you mean?"

"Let me explain. I was drunk and there was this girl, and she looked like you in my drunk eyes tiny tattoos and everything and I'm guessing she was also off the rails because she was flirting with me and she had kissed me at the bar. And you remember I disappeared for like 10 minutes? I was- I was with her in the bathroom." He said full of guilt and regret. The tears that were hidden when I heard him first talk, turned into hot fat tears running down my face as I tried to process what was going on.

"You- i- Noah why did you tell me that same day?" I said sniffling and wiping my tears. I hadn't been looking at him this entire time but when I turn, I see him biting his bottom lip with tears rolling down his cheeks as he looked at the floor.

"I was disappointed in myself and I thought that what would be best fro us was me breaking up with you. I was wrong so fucking wrong. The um, the next day me and the girl apologized to each other and she had said that she didn't know what she was doing and she wanted to apologize to you but I didn't let her.

"How the hell did you find her??"

I felt all of my emotions crash into each other and I was confused, mad, sad, but I also felt a little hope for whatever reason.

"She was staying in the same hotel as us, I ran in to her in the lobby."

"So now what? That's it, that's all you wanted to tell me?" I said wanting to desperately leave soon.

"No. Y/N I wanted to apologize and I wanted to say I fucking love you with all of my heart and soul, I would die for you. But now I fucked it up, all of this was my fault." I don't know why, but I felt bad, I knew Noah would never tolerate cheating especially because he's been cheated on many times before, but I don't know if I could forgive him.

"Noah, at this point it doesn't really matter. You fucked up. I had fucked up by not listening to you, and its over, we don't hate each other we can still be friendly but I don't really think that right now is the best moment. I thought he would understand until next thing I now he's on his knees, face buried into my chest, crying.

"Noah? Noah come here." I pulled him into me to hug him even though I should probably be the one crying, I know he's been keeping this in for a long time. He pulled away and muttered a quiet "thank you" I looked him in the eye desperately wanting to curse him out, but at the same time my body- no, my soul ached for his love and touch. As we were looking at each other lost in our eyes I just said to him.

"Noah i don't care if I regret what I'm about to do, fuck it." I crashed my lips on to his in a passionate way, tangling my hands with his short soft hair. It started as a sweet and innocent kiss, then turned into a heated hungry kiss. I lifted myself to go on his lap, and when I felt his hard, I started to grind on him without thinking.

"Fuck princess, are you sure?" Of course hearing his old pet name made you go fucking wild.

"I'm more than sure handsome."

He turned us around and started peppering kisses down my jaw, neck, and chest. I started whining which he knew was a sign that I wanted needed more.

"Angel, right now, I'm gonna worship you like you're my goddess, like your my muse. Because you're my fucking everything" he said while going to take off your skirt and corset. Once he saw that you were wearing his favorite lace set underneath his eyes went black with lust and desire for you. He took his shirt off and went down to kiss my thighs.

"Noah- fuck, more, I need mo-"

"Shhh princess, don't worry I'm gonna take care of you. So. Well."

He had been smothering me in kisses for five minutes straight. I thought it was going to keep going until I felt his finger rub the damp spot on my panties, "Fuck noah" I breathed out. His finger slowly rubbed lazy circles on the same spot until he took off my panties off and went right in, he started with giving me soft kisses at first he was being gentle, then he started sucking and licking harder, and faster, I felt like I would cum three times just because of this and he wasn't even doing much yet, and yet the first time I came on his tongue was because of that.

"Baby do you want more? You want to come on my tongue again?"

"uh huh, please noah."

"such good manners princess."

Just him saying that, made me go absolutely feral. He slipped a finger inside of me without warning, spelling his name with his tongue on me marking me as his forever, just like he promised.

"Noah, fuck, I need m- more" I said desperately wanting to be badly to body, deeply connected to him in all different forms.

"More of what angel?" He said while still pumping his finger in and out of me.

"I need you Noah, only you- Ahhhh" I felt the euphoric feeling wash over me in the moment I hit my second climax, my fingers gripped the bed sheets and my back arched as I bit my lip to the point where there was a little blood, to then which Noah licked off when he came back up and kissed me gently, I could taste myself on his lips. It felt as I was in heaven in this moment and Noah was angel, but it also felt as if this was the worst sin that I would commit, but if it was, I would sin for the rest of my life with him.

"Ahh noah?"

"yes princess?"

"I. Need. Your. Cock." I asked, I knew I sounded needy but I didn't give a fuck in the moment.

"Doll, you forgot the magic word"

"I need your cock, please Noah."

"Of course baby." He stood from the mattress and took of his shirt, then his shorts and boxers all in one, when I saw his dick I wanted to fucking jump this man, I don't know what came over me but I forgot the need to feel him inside of me and I just got on my knees on the floor and start lightly stroking him.

"Oh fuck baby what are you doing?" He asked while throwing his head back. "Giving you a little gift" I took the head of his cock in my mouth, and I started peppering kisses at first just like he did to me, then I took him entirely in my mouth, usually I would work up to it but I just needed to taste him. I bobbed my head up and down his cock, while taking with my hands what I couldn't take in my mouth. He started grabbing my head and guiding me to where he wanted me most. A sign that he was gong to release soon.

"Oh fuck- im, I'm gonna cum babe." He said, his voice a low growl. "I know baby, you can cum for me." Right as I said that he came all over my tongue and after I swallowed it I showed him my tongue so he could see. I stood up from the ground and lightly kissed him.

Later.

We cleaned up and got our clothes back on and shared a romantic kiss. *Knock knock* "Who is it?" Noah called.

"its Nicholas."

"come in" the door opened to reveal Nicholas, he looked confused on how and why you were still here.

"Y/N? I thought you had left an hour ago."

"oh uh no, me and Noah were catching up and talking but, I'm about to leave."

"ok... Well, Noah I was gonna ask if you wanted pizza since its like 11:30."

"Yeah sure man." Nicholas gave a nod and said bye to you. Noah looked at you in relief that you guys weren't caught earlier.

"Sooo." You said awkwardly. "sooo." Noah mirrored.

"You wanna get sushi with me tomorrow?" Of fucking course that's the first thing he says.

You lightly chuckled and said, "sure ba-Noah. Fuck sorry I keep saying that" you said while your cheeks flushed red.

"You don't have to apologize Y/N. Look just in warning, I'm gonna try till the day I die to get you back, but I know you won't forgive me right away, with all of my soul I'm going to make it feel like we're falling in love again. Just like the day I first laid my eyes on you." He said when he placed his hand on your thigh.

"Noah, you're already winning me back, because I will always be stupidly in love with you." You kissed him right after you said that seeing hope and love sparkle in his eyes. You didn't care how much time it took you wanted to spend eternity with Noah and even then, it wouldn't be enough. You would go through good and bad in your lives, but you would go through it together.

Forever.

AHHHHH!!!

I hope you guys liked it!

so I have some news! If you guys like this little one-shot I will start taking requests for one-shots, headcanons and blurbs every friday!! So if you like it then you can send in requests anyway and I will post different ones on Friday's!!!

-Evelyn❤

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #heavy metal #bad omens fanfiction #noahsebastian #badomens #noah sebastian x reader #fan fiction

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fictionalslvr · 1 year

Text

SYNOPSIS:Leon is a rookie cop who needs an instructor for practical classes, you. But you're so damn pretty that he can't control himself.

PAIRING: Rookie cop¡RE2Leon x Instructor¡F¡Reader

WORD COUNT:1.478k

WARNINGS: SMUT/NSFW Sub¡Leon. Male!Masturbation. Virgin!Leon. Whimpering mess!Leon. Pervert!Leon.

NOTES:This was my first work for tumblr, so this might not represent what I'm actually writing like at the moment. In fact, i envolved a lot since this one.

It have the part 2 of this post, check it please!

Leon is a dedicated rookie. Since he arrived, he's always studying and taking notes of everything his boss says. With a notepad and a pen, everything that is said to him (even if it's a lie) he will write down and study about it. He will do a long research every day and tries to get better every time, like he's in a competition, but he's too kind to think he is superior to others, no, he's not that type of guy. One day, his boss was doing a speech, and Leon was writing down what he was saying, his boss would obviously notice and ask him why.

—"Leon Kennedy…are you taking notes of my speech?"

He lifts his head immediately and faces his boss, his coworkers looking at him too.

—"Y-Yes…sir."

The boss would only look at him and chuckle softly, nodding without saying a word more. And how could he not feel proud of this dedicated rookie? He is the most excited to work here, and this is adorable. When he notices the potential of Leon Kennedy, he decides to make him even better, by giving him some new classes that will make him even more experienced.

—"I found someone that will teach you some practical classes. Like how to hold a gun properly, how to defend citizens, how to approach enemies or victims, all of this stuff. You will learn that before the others. Would you like those extra classes, Leon?"

And oh, of course he will accept. He's looking at his boss with his eyes sparkling, and if he had a tail, it would be wagging a lot now.

It's his first day of extra classes, he's the only one in the police station right now, sitting on a chair while waiting for his instructor while his leg goes up and down in full anxiety. He's playing with his own fingers, trying to distract himself for a while. The cracky door suddenly opens and Leon gets up to greet his instructor, who is superior to him.

—"Uhm, hello! I'm Leon Kennedy, nice to meet you."

He offers his hand to a hand shake and looks up to see the person in front of him. It's a pretty woman, who chuckles at his good humor and shakes his hands. She has soft hands and a scent that is as sweet as her smile. Leon had his mouth a little open in surprise, he could almost drool at this wonderful woman.

—"Nice to meet you, Leon." You tell him your name, greeting him back with a soft smile, he's adorable. He can't help but look at every feature of you, looking up and down rapidly and trying to hide that he was staring at you. You're just so beautiful…he can't help himself.

After a while looking at everything about you, Leon finally snaps out and starts to remember why are you here, he needs to focus on the practical class. He's holding a gun while pointing to the shooting dummy, a little goofy while holding it, and he suddenly feels a hot breath against his ear, chuckling while wrapping hands in his to show him how to hold it right.

–"Hold it like this, Leon…" You taught him, your soft voice going inside his brain and making him shiver. He gulps down and as you tell him, your body is very close to his and he's almost sweating.

And this is a torture to Leon now, each friday, it's the day that he does the practical classes. Right now, he's a bit more comfortable around you, but each class he seems more distracted with something. He's indeed distracted, because of you. Using some tight shorts that almost shows your butt, making your legs exposed and your thighs being suffocated in those shorts. Walking around Leon, going close to him and teaching him like that would only drive him crazy.

One day, he was out of his mind, he took a picture with his phone of you, walking through the police station with those slutty shorts and tight clothes. He took the picture without you knowing and kept it for himself, everyday looking at it and biting his lips in desire, that is so wrong…

He shouldn't be doing that, he knows. He's on his bed, panting heavily while his abs shakes softly at the pain. Leon bites his lips, almost making it bleed while trying to hold his obsenic sounds he's doing, he's feeling so guilty for doing this. But how could he hold himself with such a pretty instructor like you? Your voice is framed on his brain while his hands go up and down at his throbbing dick, all red and the tip already leaking pre cum while he jerks off to the picture he took of you.

–"Im sorry…im sososo sorry…." Leon is almost crying, he's been overstimulating himself for a while now, like he's been denying his own orgasm to punish himself for doing this. It's so wrong, he shouldn't be doing this. After this time, his poor cock was in pain, Leon had watery eyes, looking for a release after all this time punishing himself for doing that. He feels like a dirty pervert, and maybe he really is.

–"Nnggh…oh my god…im soooorry…"

Some tears run down his red cheek, all his face is red while he does that, he's embarrassed for his behavior. But his body keeps doing, hands going up and down while he shakes and begs for your sorry, even if you're not listening to it, if you would, you would never look at his face again. Leon is so close, his mind is blurry at this point, his hips cups his own hands in pure desire, he's about to cum after torturing himself, and the release is everything he can think right now. But his phone vibrates before he could cum, not showing your picture on the screen anymore, and Leon just sobs like a child before seeing that is a unknown number calling him, he sighs and take a deep breath before answering the call, his hand static on his dick while his dick hurts for more.

—"I'm sorry for calling so late, Leon. I just want you to know that i can't go tomorrow for our class, so you don't need to stay at the police station. By the way, i got your number from your boss if you're wondering."

Leon became silent for a while on the call, and you can hear him breathing heavily for a while before answering you.

—"O-Oh…it's you. Uhm, it's okay, thanks for letting me know."

He says rapidly, like he's in a rush. Only listening to your voice would be enough for him to cum at this voice call, he has to end it quickly.

—"So, i just called you for that, sorry for bothering, you seem occupied."

He gulps down and stares at his own cock throbbing again while listening to your soft voice. Leon bites his own lips, containing himself. "Quick, end this call" he thinks, but he doesn't want to be rude with you.

–"Yes, yes. I-I…have to go, I'm sorry. Goodbye!" Leon says in a sudden urge, leaving you with a raised eyebrow. He touches the screen to end the call, not even hearing your answer, he can't take this much longer, after all.

His body shivers completely, while he's panting heavily, jerking himself again at a fast pace, very needy of this, he's not even trying to hide his whimpers and moans now, he's calling your name and begging to cum. He's close again, his mind is a little dizzy while he closes his eyes to the desired release, letting himself finally cum after all of this.

Leon is a virgin, so he only masturbates himself sometimes. After he cums, it makes him completely messy, his face all red, his abs dirty in his own cum while he tries to recover. He's trying to recover his breath slowly, recovering his mind too as well, he had never cum a lot like that. And you're the reason for that, you make him feel desperate like that.

–"Leon Kennedy…I heard you."

His eyes go wide as he listens to your voice, searching for you at every inch of his dark room. Just to find his phone, still on that call. Leon was so desperate to cum, that he didn't end up the call like he thought, and you had to listen to this show he made for you. Calling your name while jerking himself like a desperate puppy in heat. He's so embarrassed, he doesn't know what to answer now, he picks his phone on the bed and leans his ear closer to it. You will hate him now, he's sure about this. He's a dirty pervert, and you know that.

#fanfic #leon kennedy #re2 leon #smut #leon x you #leon x reader #leon x fem reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #fictionalslvr

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spidey-x-male-reader · 11 months

Note

Pls do spot with a non-binary spider reader who not only thinks he and his abilities are cool, but teaches him how to properly use them. Pls I have so much brains of for this man I'LL TAKE EVEN THE TINIEST CRUMB JUST PLS🙏🙏

Pairing: The Spot x nonbinary!reader

Warnings: ///

A/N: God I was really trying my best with this one. I hope it's alright!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

Being part of the spider society probably isn’t your dream job (mostly because you don’t get paid for some reason?) but it was fun most of the time.

You hang out with people who understand you better than most people around you do, you have fun missions and get to kick ass. What’s better than that?

Of course there’s the occasional multiversal threat but you are great at dealing with that. And you would never get compromised because of anything…never…definitely…

“Oh my god he’s so cool” you mumble to yourself while swinging after the spot.

You were alone for the while, Jess having stayed back to do some damage control, but Miguel has clearly tasked you to catch the Spot and make sure he didn’t do anything dangerous. But currently you are way too focused on how cool the guy looks to think about catching him.

“Hey! Can I ask a question?” you ask while swinging next to him.

“Wha– I guess?” He seems more confused than anything. As much as you can judge from…his non-existent facial features.

“Do your powers have some kind of limit of distance or could you like…go to Italy right now if you wanted?”

“I–” he stops moving and stays standing on a rooftop. “That’s a good question actually.”

You stop standing next to him, carefully touching his shoulder. It feels pretty normal. You imagined something else.

“...aren’t you going to arrest me or something?”

“I’ll think about it when my boss starts paying me.” you shrug. “My name is (y/n) by the way.” you hold your hand out to him. Ah yes. Telling your secret identity to the guy you’re supposed to be hunting. Miguel would give you the most disapproving glare if he saw you right now.

“The spot.” he shakes your hand. “But…I guess Jonathan if we go by first names” this was probably the weirdest interaction you had all week…or the second weirdest.

“So…tell me more about your powers. How do they work?”

“What? So you can make fun of them?”

“Fun? Are you kidding? This is like…the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. And I saw a guy that turned into a giant rhino. And that’s pretty cool. But those powers are like…” you look up to (were you guess) his face is. “...absolutely incredible. They’re beautiful.”

“Well that’s the first time someone says that…usually they tend to make fun of it or just…the way I look.”

“What’s wrong about the way you look?” you frown, looking at him. “Sure…it’s a bit weird to not have a face to look at but I think we can work with that.”

He doesn’t say something for a few seconds, just studying you silently. “Thank you” he eventually says.

You want to say something when your communicator blinks as you hear Jessica’s voice out of it. “(y/n)? Have you caught the spot?”

You look up at him for a moment. “...no. I lost him. Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Meet me at the meet up point. We’re going to have to think about a new strategy.”

“Of course. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll check the territory once more.” you say before hanging up. “I do not like lying to Jess.”

“Why…did you lie?”

“I didn’t see the reason for turning you in.” you smile at him. “And…you know. Maybe I can help you if you need some more help with your powers. I mean I’m not an expert at portals and stuff but I’m good…positive affirmation.” you grin at him before stepping to the edge of the building.

“How am I…going to find you for that?” he asks, taking a step towards you again.

You turn back to him again. “Don’t worry. I’ll be the one finding you.” you grin and let yourself fall off the building backwards.

That looked cool, right?

You are hoping it looked cool.

And you’re trying to do your best to not think about the fact that you wanted to impress the new villain.

….that was okay….right?

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saintsenara · 26 days

Note

SORRY I KNOW ITS WEIRD ASKING A HP TUMBLR BLOG FOR LIFE ADVICE BUT IM SO CURIOUS HOW DO YOU MANAGE YOUR TIME

this is a genuine answer.

i think it's very important for there to be no doubt about the fact that - without medication - i would be fucked. there are plenty of non-medical ways of helping to manage adhd, but stimulant medication is the frontline treatment for a reason - no matter what the latest moral panic says. you cannot girlboss your way out of having an incurable neurological condition - and i will be honest that the few people in my life who think that you can are also the few people in my life i consider to be actively contemptible.

time management starts and ends with easily having executive function - and "easily" is the operative word. i can - of course - survive without medication - but i do so while stalked by a constant state of nervous energy which is just exhausting. not least because it ruins my sleep.

[the experience of realising that - no - you're not semi-nocturnal, you've just never before been properly calm the first time you take your pills... exquisite.]

and when i'm in the state of relative normality that legal amphetamine use brings, i manage my time by...

1. wearing a watch

no checking the time on my phone - i'll just get distracted by scrolling.

2. setting huge numbers of alarms

beat time-blindness with this one weird trick.

bonus points - if you're someone who finds it hard to switch between tasks or gets stuck hyper-focusing on things, then set the alarm and then put the device it's on far enough away from you that you have to move in order to turn it off.

3. putting everything on the wall

if you are dopamine-challenged, the best tip i can give you is that you are deluding yourself if you think you can use normal diaries/planners/to-do lists. this is why you probably have cupboards full of them.

stick everything on the wall, where you can see it, and set it up in a way that you can easily move tasks around [i.e. by using a whiteboard you can erase, or sticking your planner inside a plastic wallet and writing on it, or by having everything on sticky notes you can move around].

numbered task lists [i have to do x first, then move onto y] are a no-go - because if you don't do x, then you won't move onto y. but having groups of tasks - organised by urgency or difficulty, for example - which are right there in front of you can be selected from work much better with the adhd brain.

4. being a shark

by which i mean, being constantly on the move. desk chairs are the enemy. never sit still.

if you have adhd - and, to be frank, even if you don't - you will find that doing something physical while you need to concentrate on a task improves your ability to focus on that task. it also helps with managing time-blindness, task-switching, hyper-focus which is to the detriment of what you're supposed to be doing, and being easily distracted.

when i'm at work i literally never sit down. i use a standing desk [which, if you have a diagnosis of adhd and you're uk-based, counts as a reasonable adjustment your employer has to provide for you, fyi], and i have an under-desk treadmill [which i had to pay for myself, which i do not regret in the slightest] for tasks which really need a lot of effort to power through.

at home, i have an adjustable desk which i use as a standing desk or which i sit at while using an under-desk bike [which i use when i'm likely to get stuck hyper-focusing on something and need not to be - like if i'm writing fic but i need to meet up with friends at a certain time - because it's really uncomfortable and it therefore compels me to get up] or an exercise ball [the effort of not falling off really helps with concentration].

obviously, these types of movement are possible for me because i'm not physically disabled - it will look different for everyone, but any level of physical movement [including using fidget toys] helps with time management by improving focus.

5. body-doubling

this is a classic adhd-and-productivity thing, which means having someone physically with you while you work. they're not there to supervise you [or indeed to engage with you at all] - they're working on their own things - but the way that the adhd brain is primed for pattern recognition [and is very good at mimicry] means that you end up falling into the same rhythm as the other person.

if you need to complete something in a finite amount of time, then having someone you can body-double with is really useful, because you're less likely to get distracted from or overwhelmed by the task at hand. similarly, having a double helps prevent you getting stuck hyper-focusing.

6. owning my shit

everyone - even the most neurotypical of people - is late, or misses deadlines, or forgets meetings, or puts off tasks sometimes. it will happen no matter how brilliant your organisational system is. it's part of life.

but if you have adhd, it's very easy to fall into "well, this is just what i'm like" thinking - both self-critically ["i can't improve this, i'm a fuck-up"] and self-indulgently ["he has no right to be angry at me for being late for his party, he knows i have adhd"]

untrue. if you struggle with time management you have a responsibility to get a grip on aspects of those struggles which inconvenience other people. you will have to be quite strict with yourself in order to do this - i've ended up in a position, for example, where i'm always extremely [and often inconveniently - i do a lot of lurking outside the function waiting until it's time to go in] early for things. this is because i know that if i give myself an inch ["oh, i can wait fifteen minutes before leaving, it'll be fine!"] then i'll take a mile ["fuck, i should have left half an hour ago"].

so too with tasks. that "you can do this later... just go on your phone for a bit" voice is the devil speaking. do not listen.

i'm afraid that i've not found this becoming more intuitive with time - i have to be constantly strict with myself, in a way that neurotypical people don't - but it's just the way it is, you just have to do your best.

be community-minded about the things you need to do, be proactive in identifying what your weak areas are and thinking about how you can get around them [as i've said, mine is being late, and so i'm always hyper-alert about not slipping into complacency around this] forgive yourself for the odd slip, say sorry without caveats to people you inconvenience, thank people who are gracious, and extend grace in turn.

7. taking every bit of help going

i'm open about my diagnosis at work - which is a piece of good fortune which isn't available to everyone.

[although, if you're uk-based, a diagnosis of adhd counts as a disability under the equality act - your employer is obligated to make reasonable adjustments for you, you can't be dismissed just for having adhd, and you are entitled to bring a claim of disability discrimination if you are not provided with reasonable adjustments. you are also entitled to apply for an access to work grant - which provides financial assistance for adjustments which fall outside of the reasonable costs your employer is legally obliged to incur.]

i have adjustments at work [not only my standing desk, but things like permission to record meetings and to have all instructions issued in writing] and i feel absolutely no shame over it. if i can get something for free from the government to make my life easier, i will take it.

i am also absolutely shameless about taking advantage of my colleagues to help with time management - using them as body doubles, or asking them to get me from my office so i'm not late to things, for example - and i take advantage of my friends and family along the same lines.

human beings are social creatures - this is literally what we're designed to do - and it's incredibly important to reject the "i owe nobody anything" paradigm [which is one of the most egregious crimes of modern, poorly-regulated therapy]. i receive support, and i repay it turn by doing things for the people who help me.

8. constantly having a little treat

i am a grown adult with three degrees and a mortgage. i have also been known to use a star chart for a little flutter of pride in myself.

if you have a time management triumph, give yourself a little treat. you deserve it.

#asks answered #general chat

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johnslittlespoon · 24 days

Note

hi sorry i can't stop thinking about your leaving!bikeriders au aaaaaa

big tough intimidating gale and his sweet little puppy boyfriend is just *chefs kiss*

but also just the potential for the future of these two is driving me crazy

john's always been a little smaller than gale, or just the fact that he's so pretty thin and lanky makes him seem smaller in comparison

but the years go by and suddenly he's got a couple inches on gale and he's beefy as all hell

gales loves it

gale gushing to his biker buddies about his baby bucky and then this brick wall of a man walks up and theyre all like holy shit

and bucky never loses his puppy tendancies, he just kinda becomes like a big dog that doesn't know his size, draping himself all over gale and almost crushing him in the process

and also gale with a little white in his beard im going insane

au post | STOP IT THIS MADE ME SO <33 i loooove this (also it won't let me add a 'read more' without messing up the images so forgive this wall of text lol)

just the thought of them growing so close and their lives intertwining over the years, sorting through their issues, getting over every hurdle and going through so much together. gale in a suit bringing flowers to john's college graduation, john getting a part time job despite gale's protests because he wants to help out but also so they can take a celebratory vacation together when he finishes his exams :((

they meet when john looks like this sweet little thing in his second year of college, early 20s, shy and still growing into gangly limbs:

and then suddenly a couple years have passed and he's graduating and he looks like this twunky frat boy (gale realizes somewhere in the first few months of living together that john's vision is absolute dogshit and john's just been writing it off as a lack of focus lmfao so he forces him to an eye doctor):

and part of gale feels a little bit sad when john doesn't have to tilt his chin up to kiss him properly anymore because yk it's like watching a puppy grow up lol but mostly he's just. insane. about his boy. he's in love with his brain, and getting to see him grow confidence and become at peace with himself over the years only makes him more infatuated (and he'll be damned if he doesn't go a little crazy at the feeling of muscular thighs beneath his hands when he's got john pinned down) <3

gale's friends going a good chunk of time without seeing john during his last year of college because john's so busy juggling part time and cramming for his final exams, and when he finally does show up at the pub or biker club or whatever just before summer, there's jokes about "what the hell have you been feeding him, buck?" because that is not the lanky awkward pretty boy that had been hanging off of gale's arm the summer before. although john's absolutely still the same personality–wise, still crawling into gale's lap whenever he can, making gale carry him to bed, loving to sit on the floor by the couch between gale's legs so gale has to lean down to kiss him. :')

maybe john gets an internship after graduating and ends up working part time at the mechanic shop instead of his old part time since gale can give him whatever hours he needs to balance the internship and income (i'm pretty sure that's what i'll have gale's job be, running a car and bike shop, because yk it just checks out). john does a lot of heavy lifting and physical activity working there and bulks tf up and it makes him feel so much more confident in himself and gale would lose his mind at the way john's work shirts stretch across his broad shoulders hsdgdskhj !?!

and oh my god yes salt and pepper beard gale. john would go fucking feral over him, catching himself staring all the time, as if he doesn't already do that enough. they both become more and more attracted to each other as time goes on, like they keep waiting for the 'honeymoon' phase to end but it just doesn't, even through whatever conflicts and fights they go through, even once they fall into routine and domesticity– they're just as crazy about each other sigh.

thx. these two are gonna live rent free in my head forever. i love them so much and i haven't even written them yet fml. ALSO THANK U FOR UR OTHER ASK WITH ALL THE BIKER INFO!!! i will absolutely msg u if i have questions ur a life saverrrr omg. i screenshot and saved that ask to my drafting doc bc god knows i'm gonna need it SJKDJG ur awesome <33

#leaving bikeriders au #just wait till i draw art for this au i'm gonna end myself #making myself wait until the dog fic is done and this one is actually started but #it'll happen eventually #johnslittlespoon asks #johnslittlespoon brainrot #buckbucky

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naminethewriter · 2 months

Text

On the Road, Just the Two of Us

Chapter Seven: Outside a Bar, Just the Two of Us

Masterpost | First | Previous | Next | Ao3

Summary: This was written for @dukeceit-week-2024, @dukeceitweek

Janus and Remus are living in a campervan at the moment. Are they going somewhere? Who knows. The only thing that’s important is that they’re together.

Content Warnings: Innuendo, Heavy Flirting, Kink mention, Drunkenness, Alcohol consumption off screen

🌻🌻🌻🌻

Janus gulped down the fresh air as he stepped out of the warm and loud bar. Remus had begged him to stay in this town for the rest of the day when he’d seen it and the poster advertising a gig of a local punk band playing there that evening. He hadn’t minded staying, it seemed like a fun evening, and it was! But it was getting close to midnight and Janus needed a break from the used-up air and bass vibrations that he still felt rattling around his brain.

Or maybe that was the alcohol.

He hadn’t drunk all that much – he never did. He enjoyed the buzz but not more than that.

Remus on the other hand had taken a few more shots. But he also had a higher tolerance than Janus, so he wasn’t worried. His boyfriend was currently having fun on the dance floor and while Janus hadn’t felt comfortable there, he would never take Remus’ enjoyment away from him.

He’d made sure Remus had seen him head outside. He wouldn’t make him worry.

Janus took another few, deep breaths. He looked up, admiring the starry sky for a moment. It was a smaller town, so he could see a lot more of the stars than he could at home.

It made him not want to go back.

But there were responsibilities. And this trip was already three months long.

…Maybe he should check his e-mails. He hadn’t this entire time, knew it would make him anxious about how much work he’d return to. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

Janus pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the icon of his e-mail program, but before he could tap it, the bar door swung open and Remus came stumbling out.

“Where’s my snake boy??” he slurred, looking around. Janus had enough time to put his phone away before he was spotted and as soon as Remus did, his face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Janny! Love of my life! There you are!” He giggled, clumsily making it over to Janus and pulling him close. “I missed you. So much.”

“I was gone for not even five minutes, dear. How much more did you have to drink?” Janus chuckled, gently rubbing Remus’ cheek with his thumb. He was running rather hot but considering the temperature inside, the fact that he had been dancing and a good amount of alcohol, it wasn’t concerning.

Remus leaned into his touch and sighed.

“The band like, paid for like three rounds for everyone. I probably shouldn’t’ve taken all three shots directly after the other, but c’mon! It was fun!”

“I’m sure it was, darling. Don’t you dare throw up on my shoes, though.”

“I would never. I love your boots, they’re so sexy and way too good to be ruined by puke. If it happens anyway, I will clean them for you though. With my tongue. Or I can clean them now, I would love to worship your boots for you, Janny.”

Janus listened to Remus’ drunken rambling while gently guiding him away from the bar and towards where they parked the van. He definitely had enough for the night and while it wasn’t uncommon for Remus to declare his various kinks so openly, the fact that he was swaying on his feet and slurring slightly was enough indication that it was time to call it a night for him, too.

“I know you would, darling, and we can experiment with that when we’re back home and I have cleaned these properly. You’re not touching them with your tongue after I’ve worn them outside. Especially not before the wedding.”

Remus whined and Janus sympathetically patted his cheek.

“I know, I’m so mean to you.”

“You’re not,” Remus insisted immediately, pushing himself away a bit and trying to stay more steadily on his own so that he could look Janus in the eyes. “You’re the one person that isn’t mean to me. At least not in any way I don’t like. You’re the best and I love you. Want me to prove it to you? I can kill a guy for you!”

“I know you can, darling, and I love you, too, but what I want from you right now is to get back to the car and cuddle me until the sun comes up again.”

“I’d love to.”

“Good.”

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niuniente · 11 months

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I stumbled upon above image from this blog and went “Huh, that’s exactly how my fingernails grow. I know it can be a sign of a severe health problem but doctors haven’t found anything and my fingernails have looked like that for my whole life”. (I’d like to grow my nails long but I can’t because the pressure of the curving is too much and painful.)

(and here’s a pic of healthy nails, growing as they should)

I checked the origin of the photo and found the blog I just mentioned. It’s run by an English person who was diagnosed with BJHS - Benign Joint Hybermobility Syndrome. I read all the person’s experiences and symptoms and yikes! That’s me! (with overlapping IBS and iron deficiency which can’t be treated)

“Benign meaning “it will not kill me,” not that it’s all fluffy-kittens-and-sunshine. Joint Hypermobility meaning my joints move too much in the wrong ways (yes, “double jointed,” though of course I have only a single set of each joint). Syndrome meaning that this problem creates a cascade of other issues throughout my body. BJHS is a connective tissue-based disorder. Somewhere along the line, my genetics have made it so that I don’t either produce enough of, or don’t process completely, the protein collagen. Collagen is like the scaffolding for every connective tissue in your body. Connective tissues include: skin, muscles, ligaments, tendons, hair, bones, eyes, blood vessels, spinal discs, cartilage, the intestines, the heart, the liver… basically, everywhere. In fact, I can’t actually name a part of the body that doesn’t contain it.”

Here are the blog person’s experiences VS my experiences

Insomnia: did I mention the hyper-wired, jazzed-up, over-talkative, never-shuts-down nature of my brain? That I get more hyper the more exhausted I become? That I used to sleep so lightly that my roommate in college could wake me up by writing in her journal? Did I mention that, without the right meds, I probably get one or two nights of truly deep, restful sleep… a year? Me: Yup! I sleep so slightly that when I had a flatmate, I woke up when she touched the handle of her door. Though my insomnia isn’t as bad as this persons, I do regularly need melatonin to sleep normally. Otherwise I can’t fall asleep until 8am, even if I was super tired during the day. Otherwise I sleep well.

Liver metabolism: I have serious problems processing medications, as I have a liver that is slow to metabolize chemicals. I cannot take a very long list of drugs, including most pain killers. This also includes naturopathic treatments… even my own hormones! I get side effects (or no effects) with everything I take. As my naturopath likes to say: “You just walk by a chemical, and it affects you.” Me: My shiatsu healer said that my liver is not working properly. I have hormonal problems. Even with the IUD I still get them monthly, though IUD has improved my health tremendously.

Complex PTSD and anxiety: like the stuff combat veterans get, only not quite. Caused by excessive exposure to stressful situations that one cannot escape, like, say… a bully at work (not saying that was my situation. Just as an example…). Though I received great treatment, people with BJHS are prone to stuff like this: fight or flight, remember? Me: I’m getting better but I’m 24/7 anxious more or less. I hope I can continue having anxiety medication for “bad things” like traveling. Do you know how annoying it is that you love traveling and have traveled the same journey for 10+ years and your anxiety still says “Okay but this time, something bad CAN happen!!” I was also pretty much mute for 12 years. My muscles are tense 24/7 due hyperactive nervous system and anxiety.

Heart palpitations: yucky, but harmless Me: Sometimes they happen, ugh...

Irritable bowel syndrome Me: TELL ME ABOUT IT QoQ The IUD has helped with this, too, as apparently I also have endometriosis which causes IBS to some.

Sinus problems and severe allergies (go immune system, go!) Me: YUP! Just got finally an allergy medication after sneezing daily, 20 times a day for 30 years. I new life has began! My nose isn’t running! I don’t need to have a truckload of tissues everywhere!

GERD (bad acid reflux) Me: And it gets worse with hormonal changes... I’ve got 4 different medications for this.

Poor balance and an inability to fully understand where my body is in relation to everything else. Me: Not really my issue but I do get clumsy with hormonal chances. It’s a common joke between me and my sister by now.

An inability to regulate body temperature, including both freezing extremities and excessive sweating, sometimes at the same time Me: This is genuinely THE WORST! It’s -30C outside, I go there half-naked, walk for 3 minutes and I’m sweating like a little big. All my clothes are trenched with sweat in 10 minutes. I’m inside and it’s 23C and I need wool socks and wake up with a sore throat because it’s too cold. I also “catch” the temperatures easily and shower (or sauna) is then the only option. If I catch “cold”, I will not warm up no matter how warmly I dress and sit in front of a heater. If I catch “hot”, I will not cool down even if I sat in front of a fan naked with ice-cubes on my body.

Hair that breaks easily and nails that are bent and curl off the tips of my fingers, as well as fingers that wrinkle like I’ve been in the tub for days Me: Yes. I need to use hair oil daily and baby oil for body and my eyes are like Sahara desert. Nails curve and my fingers are always wrinkly.

I have painful big toe joints, so no high heels for me. Walking long distances can be a disaster, so good shoes are very important. I suffer from plantar fasciitis, which means the bottoms of my feet hurt, especially in the morning. Me: Same. I went to doctor to complain how my toes hurt but they couldn’t find anything. My soles hurt extremely easily - like 5h walking and I’m already in pain. Doesn’t matter if I’m 45kg or 100kg in weight, it still hurts the same. Fingers hurt all the time.

My immune system is hyper-active as well, mounting elaborate, full-scale mucus or lymph node or other responses to mild colds and viruses. I’m sick a lot longer than normal people, and a lot more seriously, yet it’s not due to a poor immune system, but rather one that’s too strong. Me: Same. Last time I was sick was in 2017. It was just a normal cold but it took 4 weeks from me to recover. I was bedridden for a week. I’ve not gotten covid and despite my shitty bowl I don’t get sick easily. I don’t remember the last time I was sick prior 2017. Probably in 2007? With a bit runny nose though.

Loose connective tissues mean joints that move too easily, which means pinched nerves and pain. Think about how it feels when you throw your back out, or get carpal tunnel syndrome. Now imagine this feeling all over your body. My nerves get pinched, causing several types of pain. I get back pain, obviously. I get numbness and mild paralysis in my thighs and hands. I get weakness in my legs and arms, and sciatica/restless leg sensations if I sit too long. Worst of all, I get parasthesia in my fingers and toes (that’s the tingling, painful sensation you get when you sit funny and your foot goes numb, then starts to wake up). I have this sensation, in varying degrees, all the time. Me: I’m literally in pain all around my body from neck below, for 24/7. Only the level of pain differs. I get easily numbness to arms and legs. I’ve started to suffer of restless legs and middle body with heavy jolting, especially if I’m tired. If I’m stressed and go to sleep, my nose and lips switch a lot.

#niu's life #over the years I've tried to figure out what's wrong #but it seems - also by docs - that there's plenty of wrong #I guess whoever assembled my body must have done it on Monday #after a rough party weekend with eyes closed

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nihil-ism · 18 days

Text

𝟐𝟎 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Nine and counting! I do have the occasional scraps of WIPs stashed in various places, including my singular brain cell, but I usually only start publishing once they are fleshed out enough.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 110,204 words.

3. What fandoms do you write for? Resident Evil and Final Fantasy for the most part. I am working on a draft for a Dune fic as well, but due to my shifted writing time, which is sadly not much presently, I put it on hold in favor of continuing my re fic.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Unquiet Grave (Resident Evil) | @virologikal

The Darker the Weather, The Better The Man (Final Fantasy VIII)

Fallacy (Final Fantasy VIII)

Day 1 - A White Lie (Final Fantasy XV)

Obsession (Final Fantasy VIII)

5. Do you respond to comments? Absolutely! I try to do so in a timely fashion, sometimes it does take me a while though, especially when I'm busy doing other things and not checking in on my AO3. I am deeply humbled whenever someone takes some time out of their day to leave some words (or even compliments!) on my fics and it means a lot to me.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? ...is this a bad time to menion I haven't really finished a fic before? x'D I mean, aside from my one shots of course. I have a penchant for working on massive ideas that take forever to write, so yeah. Anyroad though, the answer currently would be a hard tie between either The Price of Perfection (Resident Evil) or Love me whole (Final Fantasy VIII). The first is a glimpse at Wesker's life from birth to death, the second is a songfic based off of Missio's Love me whole, and focuses on a toxic interpretation of Squall and Seifer's ... "relationship".

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Day 2 - Festivities (Final Fantasy XV), easily. It was part of a series for an event or somesuch a couple years ago and focused on more casual themes (which I admittedly usually don't tackle).

8. Do you get hate on fics? Thankfully no.

9. Do you write smut? Big yes to that. I actually love writing intricate smut, which I did for Final Fantasy VIII without much story or context. I should get back on that for Resident Evil and Dune at some point (not everything has to be a novel Nihil, gdi.....) But admittedly, I enjoy when there is some set up around the actual smut just as much. It can be an amazing vehicle to convey character development, power dynamics, show trust or the loss thereof... I am a fan hahah.

10. Do you write crossovers? I did write crossovers in rp, so I think technically I could. But in fanfic, I personally don't really see the need to as I prefer to take the canon lore and expand on it, see how many headcanons I can make work with the actual lore so it fits seamlessly as if it was intended to be there. I do enjoy reading the occasional crossover though!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet, no. I am comfortable writing in English, despite German being my mother language, and honestly I don't think I could properly translate certain things into German without it sounding weird/cringe.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nope! I could imagine doing that if I ever get my time schedule sorted. And I actually had plans to do a co-written fic with a friend ( looking at you, Bee :p ) but alas, time. I do sometimes help people brainstorm some fic ideas though if that counts^^

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship? Almahart (Squall Leonhart & Seifer Almasy), and of course Chrisker (Chris Redfield & Albert Wesker). Something about the blond bad guys and the brunet heroes ig °^^ With Almahart it's the tragedy binding the two together, the fact that Squall became everything Seifer wanted to be (without Squall even really trying/wanting it!), the resentment and rivalry that only barely manages to conceil the real feelings. I like them both as a ship that solves their hardships eventually, and as a toxic ship with Seifer never redeeming himself and not wanting to, either. As for Chrisker, it's a similar streak but darker, more violent, with a lot of psychological warfare included. The hardest thing is to convey Wesker's machinations and how he views the world (according to my interpretation) because I write him as extremely closed off, keeping to himself even with his facial expressions. It's a challenge to portray him correctly and I like it a lot. I love the tangle the both of them are in, how Chris wants to hate Wes so much for all he has done, while simultaneously being unable to let go, even decades later. There is desperation, hatred, blood, passion, everything I love in a ship.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I am absolutely convinced I will finish both my Resident Evil project (which will consist of multiple one shots, The Unquiet Grave, as well as a sidestory to it focusing on HUNK), as well as The Darker the Weather, The Better the Man. What I will say though is that I am also certain it will take a long ass while. Both are huge and complex stories, so building them up and telling them correctly is time consuming, and oftentimes real life gets in the way, sadly. I hope the people who were excited about The Darker the Weather will have patience with me.

16. What are your writing strengths? I want to say my high standards when it comes to fleshing out characters, finding their voice and writing their perspective. It's at least something I get a lot of compliments for, so I seem to be doing something right ^^ Also, I am very thorough when it comes to canon. I try to keep everything in mind and weave my story into the existing lore and world as seamlessly as possible. For The Unquiet Grave I took a whole day to collect all possible information about the entire Resident Evil Timeline (it spans from 1909 to 2037), which I regularly consult while I am writing to make sure I have events lined up properly.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I definitely question myself too much. As in, if the quality I am providing is good enough; if the characters are OOC, things like that. It's my perfectionism getting in the way of things. Generally I have a bad habit on putting too much unneccessary pressure on myself (publish within a certain time, write a certain amount of words, etc.) - silly, really.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Ohhh yeah I love that! I don't use this enough and definitely should. (needless to say but it should not be too much untranslated content of course, and made available for the readers in some way so they know what is being said)

19. First fandom you wrote for? I believe my very first fic was Ville Valo x Lauri Ylönen, don't hit me for writing smut about real life people please xD I was young! Aside from that, Final Fantasy VIII or Angel Sanctuary, not sure anymore (I am rather certain it was FFVIII though because I have always been obsessed with it)

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Urgh this is hard.... Given how much my writing has improved and how I learned to apply certain tools (like drafting properly etc), I'd have to say The Unquiet Grave. Since I am not writing in my first language, the time I practised between this and The Darker the Weather definitely had a positive impact.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @judasiskariot (thanks again!) 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: @sauron-kraut . @no-bee (if you like ofc) - any everyone who would like to do this, feel free to steal!

#this was fun!#I rarely get to ramble about my fics bc I am not mutuals with many writers so AYYY

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dandylovesturtles · 8 months

Note

OKAY sorry to send two asks in a row (and sorry to send a picture instead of copy and paste, my c&p isnt working well for some reason?) but this part is. Also my favourite.

Haha no worries!

AH YES the Brains and Brawn floor cuddles + Leo Rejection Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. I'm sensing a theme with these asks lol.

"Donnie!" Raph hurried over, reaching out for him.

"Raph, I don't think that's-"

He put his hand on Donnie's shoulder, and Leo watched as Donnie sagged into the touch. Raph knelt, getting in close, and Donnie slumped so he was resting his head on Raph's plastron.

"I gotcha, Donnie," said Raph softly, stroking his arm. "You're good, you're good. Just breathe."

Donnie hasn't been okay this whole fic, but he's especially not okay right now. And with everything going on, Raph and Donnie haven't really had time to work out that big blowout fight that happened between them. Sure, Leo bullied them into apologizing, and they both meant what they said. But they still haven't really had a time to fully work through what happened with just them, without meddling from Leo and Mikey.

Donnie's dealing with a mix of guilt and the leftover adrenaline of "I almost committed murder for real" and he needs help right now. Donnie seems to distance himself from Raph's babying more than the others, but at the end of the day that's still his big brother, and Donnie is still going to go to him when he needs just the right brand of comforting that only his big bro can provide.

After everything is over, Raph and Donnie are definitely going to take some time to properly mend their relationship back up. Not that it was ever truly broken, of course, but they need to have a real talk. But this is the first real overture between them: Raph will always be there when one of his little brothers is in trouble, and Donnie having the trust to let Raph in when he's this vulnerable is a big deal.

tl;dr it was really important to me that Raph be the one to comfort Donnie here. Too bad we don't actually get to know what they said because Leo didn't eavesdrop on their conversation haha

Leo stood stock still, watching his brothers cuddle on the medbay floor. Okay, so not all touch is bad. Just me.

But of course Leo is not in his brother's head and he doesn't know what all Donnie is thinking right now. And normally he might be clear-eyed about his brothers' various ways to know this isn't really a rejection of him, but he's been through so much that his brain isn't quite firing on all cylinders. He's making everything about himself again, which I don't mean as a criticism of him (he is really really not alright right now), just a fact.

Sometimes we hurt people without meaning to and it's not anyone's fault but that doesn't stop it from hurting.

It felt like the stab of a white hot knife.

I use this phrase way too often lol it makes me cringe seeing it here. This is why you get yourselves a beta, kids. Don't be like me.

"I'm gonna go..." Leo stopped, swallowed hard to banish the tremble in his voice. "I'm gonna check for any more damage to the lair."

Raph looked in the direction of his voice. "Wait, Leo-"

"I'll be right back," he promised, and was out of there before Raph could say anything more.

Run! Run from the bad feelings!

Poor Raph, he knows Leo isn't okay either but he can't just leave Donnie in the floor and it's not like he can clone himself! (Okay he can kinda clone himself but not in the way Leo needs right now, haha.) It'd be helpful if Mikey was here but Mikey is not. Cowabummer.

Leo does want Raph to stay and help Donnie. He knows Donnie needs that right now. And it's not like he even really needs to be the comforter over Raph; if Donnie hadn't pulled away from his touch earlier then he wouldn't be as upset by this now. But he's definitely feeling singled out right now.

Thanks for the ask!

#fic: i may be invisible but i still look good

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sophieinwonderland · 1 month

Note

Hiya! It's your maladaptive daydreamer anon. I should really start using an emoji or something if im going to keep using anon.. im just so worried about the hate mob, sadly. instead ill be 🦈because i love sharks!

I'm sending you another ask just to kinda work through this to someone who understand tulpa's properly. I've basically come to terms with the fact that my "para" (daydream character) who is the main character may not just be a para after all.

I was going through all of your resources in your pinned tweet and it made me realize that i do ALL of these things. i was able to build my own world and without realizing it, the front of the door was created. it wasn't anything i even meant to do. i built a room, and a room need a door, obviously. but it where all my "daydreams" start. my daydreams which consists of me talking to two daydream characters, and almost nothing else.

Obviously i still have days where i am daydreaming, but i catch myself so often just... checking in with my character. I'm able to talk to her, and she's able to respond to me. she's BEEN sentient for awhile, but us MADDers have our own terminology for it. Veritbonds. Sentient para's who know they're in a daydream.

But it extends PAST my daydreams into my normal life. I think this is why i'm sending this anon. At what point does it go too far and pass into the realm of a tulpa? She acts on her own. She is her own person, to the point that i consider myself plural because of it, and she's different from the other daydream character i mentioned. He's also sentient, but its...different. like he's limited to just my daydream. my brain can "shut it off" and forget about it, but she's always there.

Could you offer any opinions on this? I know it's a lot but i understand if you don't have a reply or are too busy

It sounds like she's a headmate to me!

And I can kind of get what you mean about the divide with some that feel less sentient than others. I've talked a bit before about how we had Abby and Almond and originally interacted with them only in daydreams of a sort.

While they were like that, they were only in the daydream or inner world. They weren't aware of the outer world and didn't connect with our thoughts fully. Then one day Abby started being able to hear what I was thinking, she learned that her world wasn't real, and then she became more self-aware. And then we told Almond in order to wake her up.

But before we revealed things to them, they were already sort of sentient even if not fully self-aware.

So, I guess I find it relateable.

As to the question, I consider a daydream character a full headmate when they...

Have their own agency and autonomy, with emotions that you can't control. (For example, if one were sad or angry, you couldn't make things better by simply imagining them being happy again like you could a true imaginary character.)

Have autobiographical connections to memories of past interactions. Being able to recall something they did without before, and get a sense of "I did that."

Develop awareness of the outside world and the body.

Some might disagree with this, but these are my criteria.

And be sure to ask potential headmates their opinions. Does she feel sentient? Does she want to identify as a headmate?

Best of luck figuring things out. Have a great day! And wish her a great day from me too! 😁

#plural #pluralgang #maladaptive daydreaming #tulpa #tulpamancy #plurality #endogenic #multiplicity #systems #system #pro endo #pro endogenic #paracosm #veritbond #sysblr #endo safe #plural community #actually plural #actually a system

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lavendertales · 2 years

Text

Under the influence—Javier Peña x f!reader**

Chapter 4 of the Unholy series

summary: things are tense at work between you and Javier, but you agree to never speak of what happened, nor it happening ever again. Yet, you can’t stop thinking about it late at night.

word count: 3.2k

WARNINGS: female & male masturbation.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @azertyrobaz

series masterlist | AO3

The moment the door closed behind Javier, guilt consumed you.

After last night—after that—you immediately crawled your wobbly legs to bed, curled up inside your blanket, as if it would somehow shield you of the regret that threatened to seize up your whole body. There’s nothing you can say or do to take it back; the deed has been done, the sin has been consummated and the need has been sated.

God, your cunt still aches.

Your body works on sheer muscle memory this morning, each step providing you with an unsolicited flashback from last night, moments that went by too fast. You have no idea what prompted Javier to make that move last night. But if he hadn’t, you probably would have, and that is something you are not sure you can forgive yourself for. You don’t like to think about the amount of weakness you carried within your body for it to be molded, kneaded and groped the way it had been. What else could it be but weakness?

The thought of being weak before Javier Peña, your sworn rival and worst nemesis since college, is filthier than the sex you had.

But once you step out the door and head for the embassy, you force yourself to forget all about it. It never happened, and there is no reason to let it affect you in any way.

You could say you were surprised how swiftly Javier moved, how determined and passionate he felt, and give him credit for the fact that he was, if nothing else, a good lover. Great, even.

Ugh. You’d never hear the end of it if he would ever hear such a thing.

So you decide to be as polite as usual, saluting all your co-workers and superiors as you march to your shared office with Sofia. You don a bright smile, impenetrable.

“Hey!” she greets you, and you respond in the same cheerful manner. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You left in a hurry last night after that… argument with Javier and you seemed upset.”

You use every ounce of strength your body still carries to not react to his name.

“That wasn’t an argument. Trust me, when we have one, you’ll know,” you try to laugh, and to your ease, Sofia chuckles too. “He was just trying to get under my skin, but it’s just same old with us.”

“If you’re sure, then.”

“I am. I appreciate you checking in on me, though.”

You’ve only known her for a few weeks—has it barely been two months there?—but Sofia already grew on you. She was far sweeter than you could’ve imagined someone in that field of work should be, but she was incredibly hardworking and focused.

Unlike you today.

But your plan is working: you almost forget that you’ve only had like two hours of sleep. Almost – hence why you rush to the break room to pour yourself another cup of coffee.

“So,” Steve welcomes you. “Did you and Javi do it?”

Shit.

As opposed to earlier, you cannot hide your shock. You focus on the coffee pitcher instead, avoiding his glare.

“Uh,” you chuckle nervously. “Do what?”

“Talk. I figured after you left, clearly upset, Javi would’ve followed you to at least apologize.”

You close your eyes momentarily, the same unwanted flashbacks of how carelessly he ripped the clothes off your body invading your brain. But at the very least, you can breathe properly knowing that Steve remains unsuspecting.

“Right,” you gulp and finally turn to him, taking a sip from the cup. “No, he uh—he did. Well, in not so many words...”

“Sounds about right.”

“Barely using words, actually, but he did make it up for last night.”

“That’s gotta be good then, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was… shockingly good.”

Steve purses his lips together, his eyes stuck on the far exit.

“I don’t expect you two are gonna be best buddies now, right?” he asks, still checking the embassy’s main entrance.

“Not a chance. Last night… didn’t change anything. It was just something for the time being.”

“Like a nicotine patch.”

“Exactly. A Peña patch.”

Steve laughs wholeheartedly, suddenly rushing out of the room. “Oh hey, when you have the chance, I’d still love to hear stories about him in college. I need some intel in case he ever pulls some shit.”

You nod, a faint smile on your lips. “Sure thing.”

You’re left alone with your cup of coffee, for which you’re grateful for. You haven’t seen Javier so far and frankly, you could go the rest of the day without seeing him. Or the rest of the week.

It’s enough that you still feel him.

Luckily, Steve walks back into the room, with a beautiful blonde woman on his arm. He introduces you to her and you quickly do the math.

“And this is my hot-shot, intelligent wife, Connie.”

You two shake hands, and you clearly see the appeal. All in all, Steve and Connie make one attractive pair of spouses.

“Steve’s been telling me about this badass new agent for weeks, so I had to come in quickly and meet her at last,” Connie smiles.

“Well, you found her! Unless you came in here to investigate if she’s trouble because she might have an interest in your husband, in which case I am not her.”

Both Connie and Steve laugh.

“But really, it’s so nice to meet you,” you continue. “I am here strictly for work. I really don’t have time for anything else.”

“I know what you mean. Often Steve is so busy, we barely get to eat together.”

“I always end up eating you though, don’t I?”

You stifle a giggle as Connie slaps his arm playfully, scolding him for revealing personal information in an official space, but you take another sip of the coffee and pretend you don’t hear it.

“There are some lookers around here,” Connie tells you as she cuddles up next to Steve.

“If I were to get involved with colleagues, I’d say Sofia has better chances.”

More chuckles. “You could give it a shot,” Connie jokes.

“You know what? If things ease down, maybe I will. Anyone else just—“

Javier walks by the window, accidentally catching your eyes as he sips from his own cup, and you hold your breath. You gulp, hoping to mask it somehow, and return to your conversation.

“Anyway, I should get to work,” you conclude as politely as possible. “Lots to do.”

“Thanks for bringing me lunch, baby.”

“Sure, sweetie.”

The two share a light kiss on the lips, and again you look away. Probably because you don’t want to think about the last kiss you had and how it was engraved on your lips.

“We’d love to have you over for dinner sometime, if you’d like to,” she tells you.

Though the invitation takes you aback, it’s a lovely surprise. You smile, honestly and radiantly. “I would love that, absolutely.”

You bid Connie goodbye, pleasantly remarking how utterly smitten Steve seems as he walks her out. A long time ago, you ardently wished for a relationship like that. But dating was out of the question, particularly when you have a job such as this one. The best you can settle for is something physical.

You rub the back of your neck, feeling the phantom of Javier’s grip over the flesh, still oddly sensitive. You ache all over again, but you persist. You shake your head, take a deep breath, and return to your office.

But even with the amount of work to be done, you feel Javier’s presence and, subsequently, his sharp eyes on you the whole time. Whenever you look up from your files to catch him in the act, he’s not doing anything of the sort. In fact, you see him moving around, talking, looking over evidence, literally anything else but stare at you.

Are you imagining things now? Are you imagining that he’s sitting miserably at his desk, staring at you, lustfully thinking about last night?

No. That can’t be. Again you push the thoughts to the back of your mind. Not as if you can state that the image of having your ach nemesis weak for and because of you isn’t attractive in itself, but you don’t need the aggravation.

Nothing happened. Nothing’s changed.

You find yourself wondering fleetingly if his dick aches and longs as much as your pussy does. You brush that thought away, too.

It probably doesn’t. And if it does, you don’t wanna know.

Nothing happened.

You do your best to carry out the day’s tasks as usual. You find that going through every single written recording of Escobar’s rise to power in the evidence room is much more pleasant than sitting at your office in the open space and dreading to make eye contact with Javier.

That is, until the problem himself walks in the room, spoiling your thirst for information.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you huff and roll your eyes, returning to the folder in your hands.

“It’s no picnic for me either.”

When you don’t respond, Javier walks closer to you, his cologne infiltrating your nostrils, as does your perfume his. You frown, clueless towards his intentions.

“What are you doing?” you instantly ask.

“We need to talk.”

“About what? There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Last night—nothing happened.”

You step away from him, biting on your tongue till you taste warm blood in your mouth.

“I don’t know,” you respond, and your answer worries Javier. “Having a few drinks with our colleagues and then going straight home felt pretty real to me.”

Javier exhales, relief washing over him. “Yeah, okay.”

But this time, you’re the one who catches his wrist, pulling away not a second too late, surprised by your own reaction.

“Did you come in here to bring that up?” you ask, then you gasp. “Oh my God, do you care?”

Javier makes a disapproving sound. “I got work to do. I don’t care about your annoying face.”

“Then what business do you have in the evidence room?”

Javier looks around, slightly thrown off.

“I—need this,” he says, and picks up a dusty folder that’s got a French name dated 1923. “Smart-ass.”

You grin. “I hope you catch the guy. I’m sure… Pierre over there, infamous for stealing eclairs, by the looks of that subtitle, has plenty of intel on Escobar.”

Before Javier can reply with anything snarky, you add, “Let me know if you need it translated. I know French isn’t one of your strongest suits. I wouldn’t want that pretty head of yours to hurt from overthinking.”

“I’d rather choke.”

“Well—“

“Oh, shut up.”

You swear you see him smile too. Not in thrill of victory as yours, but a smile nonetheless. Still, you decide to leave this one out, counting it as a win for you.

“But just so you know,” he tells you right before he exits, “last night was nothing. It was just a means to an end.”

“I know.”

He’s amazed to hear you agree with him so easily, submit to his words without the urge to contradict him—it messes with his head, badly. It’s an image he didn’t think he’d get the chance to see, or that he’ll find it so appealing.

“We clearly needed a little relief and since there was no one else around—“

“I get it, Peña, okay? I agree with you, in a… rather shocking turn of events. But we shouldn’t have done that.”

Javier needs to more clarification as to what that is. You both know it, painfully and shamefully well.

“Definitely not,” he finds himself agreeing with you. “And it won’t happen again.”

You narrow your glare, hoping to mask whatever blurred and confused thoughts that might’ve been put on display. You again wonder if he’s just as sore as you are, quickly dismissing the embarrassing thought.

“It better not,” you say. “Now quit talking about something that never happened.”

The way you put emphasis on the word reassures Javier that you have the same intentions as he does—at least in this regard. You both want the previous night to fade into oblivion, a regrettable spur-of-the-moment choice that brought you nothing more than a quick fix.

Javier leaves the room, feeling like a fool with that random folder in his hand, but he’s too committed to the bid to give up now, and he definitely can’t do that while you’re there. It would go against the very nature of your dynamic; he could never purposely allow himself to lose before you. What he can concede though, the bare minimum he can admit to, is that the previous night’s late activities did not occur. And it didn’t change anything.

It didn’t make him feel any different than his regular booty calls did.

It did not make his whole body burn and crave, hours after the deed has been done.

It did not make his head spin just by reminiscing it.

You are just his opponent, his now-work rival. And what didn’t transpire between the two of you was nothing more but a means to end, as he’s told you. It was a one-time thing, a mistake.

But, while the day began as productive for Javier, its descent into evening brought immense distress. The moment he arrived home, he removed his leather jacket and poured himself a whiskey neat, crashing on the couch like he had been on the run the whole day.

His limbs hurt; his mind is racing as much as his heart does, and he knows no peace on account of his own thoughts. Now, in the privacy of his own place, he lets them consume him entirely. He cannot control them anymore, not when they make him this hard.

Fucking hell, how can he be so hard just thinking of the wrong, yet shameless way he slid inside of you? What have you done to him that you had your claws sunk into his skin so deeply?

It’s forbidden, thrilling, unlike anything he’s experienced till now. He feels a bizarre concoction of emotions, from the excited shiver that runs down his back when he closes his eyes to work on muscle memory, to the sentiment of this is wrong as he unzips his pants, freeing his cock from the confinement of his boxers.

His erection rests now against his stomach, throbbing, practically weeping and begging for attention. Javier grunts as he gives the first stroke, eyes shut close for better visualization.

He sees you clearly; you’re staring at him from across the conference room, your eyes sparkling with purpose and anger alike. He’s never seen in anyone’s eyes what he sees in yours, and he doubts he ever will. You barely blink as you stare him down, as if dead set on making him break in any way you can, but Javier only swells with desire. You’re devilishly gorgeous, a sinner in angel’s clothing, and he can’t help himself.

Javier sucks in a deep breath, brushing his thumb over his tip, jerking his length faster and faster. He’s close—so painfully close. He can’t stop, not now. You’re a distraction, and you do your number all too well: he’s gonna cum to the thought of you, to the thought of what you did last night, and then he will stop.

It’s just for tonight, just for now. It doesn’t mean anything. After it’s done, it won’t happen.

Javier grunts louder as ecstasy finally hits his body like a tidal wave. He spills over his stomach and hand, his breaths hitched and his voice now a guttural whine. It feels so good, so damn good—not like the real deal, but it scratches the itch. He’s somewhat still hard as he still has his hand wrapped around his cock, waiting.

Waiting for something that won’t come.

Suddenly, the silence is deafening and almost cruel. The pleasure is gone; there’s only guilt to be felt in this moment.

You hate what this is doing to you. You hate the vulnerability that it brings out of you, even in the intimacy of your home.

But you can’t help it anymore. In the poorly lit living room, you lie with your legs spread, hand reaching in between them to find your heat, oddly wet already.

You’ve been thinking about it the whole day, even if you were so good at lying about it. It was unbearable—you craved that feeling from last night when Javier fucked you on the very couch you are sitting on now. You felt so full, so complete, in spite of everything else that ever transpired between you two. If it was so wrong, then how come it felt so good?

You circle your fingers around your clit, discovering how sensitive you feel—almost like Javier’s touch remained a sorely residual pleasure phantom over you. Your muscles tighten at your own soft touch, but you strive to relax. A smile breaks from the corners of your lips and you coo in delight at the rush of excitement traveling throughout your body. You feel intoxicated already, though you’ve barely had a glass of wine.

You needed this; it was a long day of playing pretend and keeping the enemy at bay. Enemy that made you mewl and purr less than twenty four hours ago.

You scissor your fingers around your clit faster, the pleasure mounting to the highest level. You suppress a loud groan as you come, squirming under the impact. And before you know it, you keep going: your fingers pump in and out of you, eyes fluttering shut in your attempt to evoke last night’s events.

You shamefully imagine it’s Javier that’s filling you up; that his husky groans fill the room with each thrust as your fingers work in tandem with the pace you’ve experienced. Mouth open ajar and body on fire, you gently moan under the controlled motions, eager as they could possibly be. Your hips buck upwards when you feel that pressure build in your lower body for the second time. This moment, vulnerable and immoral, is all you allow yourself.

Tomorrow, there’ll be none of this. No more. Just for tonight.

You nearly lose control over your own motions as you moan louder; your chest heaves, breaths spasming as much as your body does. Although you crave another kind of thickness, a different throbbing sensation, this is more than enough—for now.

Tomorrow, no more.

You let your second climax surround you like a warm embrace. It carries along with it a certain hollowness and sorrow, but you focus on the afterglow. You shudder and gasp, your heat now emptied and the need sated. Not in full, though, but just enough.

No more of this. It was already enough that you’d done this thinking of the most sinful moment you’ve ever shared with anyone.

But, for the first time in days, sleep comes to you with ease.

It does the same for Javier.

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 2 years

Text

Whumptober Day 4: Dead on your feet

No. 4 DEAD ON YOUR FEET

Hidden Injury | Waking Up Disoriented | Can’t Pass Out

Warnings: stab/slash wound, knife, knives, blood, blood loss, makeshift bandages, self done first aid, medical inaccuracies

Word count: 1947

In your defence, you didn’t realise you had been stabbed until the paramedics were gone and you were processing the crime scene. And sure, you probably should have told someone and said ‘hey, you know, I think the unsub has slashed me a bit and by that I mean hey look here’s a massive slash wound from his knife’, but you didn’t. You simply had an internal panic before covering the problem with your FBI windbreaker - which were waterproof, so theoretically also blood proof? Your plan also wasn’t the best (wait until you get to the police station and patch yourself up, last the jet journey and drive yourself to the closest hospital when your shift ended) but it was the most coherent plan you’d be able to come up with.

“You alright, (Y/N)?” Morgan grinned, “You’re quieter than usual,”

“Just thinking about how hard it must be for you to be second best around me,” You teased trying your best not to show your panic to the rest of the team, Derek gave a laugh, clapping you on the back, missing your wince.

You rode with Hotch, Rossi, and JJ, hoping that Hotch’s driving would make you feel less like you were going to throw up than Morgan’s driving. That wasn’t the case (nothing against Hotch, it was simply the odds were not in his favour). It wasn’t long until you were at the police station and you all piled out of the car and into the station.

You didn’t get a chance to stop at the police station and properly try and patch yourself up, as it turns out. Spencer had decided to stay behind and pack up during the arrest and normally you would appreciate that but you could have throttled the younger agent tonight. You didn’t say anything though, just gave him a smile and a nod as you slowly started to pack your things. You knew Hotch and Rossi had noticed something was wrong, but they hadn’t confronted you about it, so you were taking it as a win. It wasn’t hurting as much, not yet anyway. But you knew it was going to soon. Part of you thought the anticipation of the pain might actually be the worse part. Although, you doubted that you’d think that once the pain started kicking in full. You felt it, sure, but it was more a light dull ache than anything else.

“The caffeine addiction kicking in there?” Derek joked, nodding at your shaking hands.

You forced a laugh and a nod, “Always,” There was a small pause, “No, all that adrenaline’s after effects, apparently it decided to hit me hard today,”

“Huh,” Derek said, both of you continuing to make sure your things were packed.

“The funny thing about adrenaline is that not only does it increase blood levels to the brain and muscles, but can also decrease blood flow to some organs too,” Spencer chimed.

You nodded, “I think I remember my psychology teacher telling me that once,”

Hotch straightened up, turning to the whole team, “Are we all ready to go?”

Everyone, but you nodded, “I need to pee,” You said, Hotch fought back a smile but nodded. It had become almost a ritual, you would go to the toilet before getting on the jet everytime without a doubt.

This time, however, it wasn’t so much needing to pee as it was ‘figure out a way to stop the hole - well, gaping wound - in my stomach from bleeding so damn much'. You walk at your usual pace, despite wanting to run and crawl at the same time.

You looked around the men's bathroom when you got there, checking for officers as well as supplies. There wasn't much to work with, in fact, there was no first aid kit, nothing. All you had to go on was toilet paper and disposable hand towels. You decide on the hand towels, grabbing a handful, placing against your wound (having lifted your shirt) You couldn’t see anything to hold it in place and you very much doubted wrapping toilet paper around your stomach would secure the make-shift gauze. With a sigh, you settled with your belt, quickly undoing the buckle, you placed it over the wound and ‘gauze’ with a hiss, you did the buckle back up before dropping your shirt to cover everything - thankful that your shirt was rather baggy today. You place your windbreaker back on. If anyone asks, you can say that you’re cold. You were starting to feel a bit on the colder side, actually.

This did not look good. You had a six hour flight. You should probably tell Hotch. The thought of that was immediately knocked out of your head when you imagined his disapproving glare. Nope. You did not need that on top of a stab-slash wound. With a sigh (and then a wince) you headed out of the bathroom.

“There he is!” Morgan teased.

“We thought you might have fallen down the toilet,” Emily laughed. You gave a laugh, doing your best to hide your pain.

“You okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” You give JJ a smile.

“Yeah, I think I’m just getting a migraine,” The lie slips off your tongue easily and you feel bad, until you see the worry leave her eyes.

“I’ve got pain killers?”

“That would be great, thank you,” You smiled, it was really starting to hurt now.

After you downed two painkillers and had a glass of water, you swung by the hotel to grab your go bags (already packed). You groaned, turning to Morgan, "Morgan, be a dear and grab my bag for me? Please?" Morgan looked at you, observing the way you covered your eyes with your hand, your pale complexion, and the way you were hunched in on yourself.

He nodded, "Yeah, of course," Must have been a bad migraine.

Hotch was always the last one to board the jet. Often, the rest of the team would get on whilst he was saying goodbye to the local police before he boarded - letting them know that they would help whenever and wherever they could with any upcoming cases. This didn’t change.

Hotch walked next to you as you all made your way to the jet, “Are you alright?” You nodded, giving him a strained smile. This was all a massive mistake, but you were too stubborn to say anything now. You made your grave.

“I’m fine,” The rest of the team were now boarded. You gave a quiet huff, shifting the strap of your go-bag before beginning your slow ascent up the stairs (not wanting to push your body). You nearly made it. You were so close to the top of the stairs when the dizziness hit. Hotch right behind you, he furrowed his eyebrows.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” You gave a sluggish nod. You were quite cold, now that you thought about it. The dizziness hadn’t let up and you felt incredibly nauseous. But still you said nothing, determined to push on. You went up two more steps before the world blurred into a variety of colours and Hotch was the only thing holding you up.

“I need some help here!” Hotch yelled, shifting his position to prevent you both from falling down the stairs. The team poked their heads out of the door, seeing you limp in Hotch’s arms caused them all to kick into action. “Morgan, help me get him on the jet, Emily call 911, Reid get the first aid kit, we need to figure out what’s wrong.” Everyone nodded and scrambled to follow Hotch’s orders. They placed you on the sofa, Reid kneeling beside you with the first aid kit next to him. He scanned your frame, deciphering where the injury could be when a flash of blood caught his eye. There was a long and thin hole in your shirt. He lifted your shirt up gently, eyes widening when they landed on the large laceration that ran across your side, from hip to ribs - as much tissue as possible held in place by a belt.

Reid heard Hotch sigh behind him and JJ and Emily gasp and turn away. Reid got to work, apparently the paramedics were going to be ten minutes so he needed to stem the bleeding as much as possible. He could try and stitch it up but that would increase the chance of infection - plus ten minutes wasn’t too bad. Reid nodded his thanks to Morgan when he handed him a wad of gauze to apply to the wound. Rummaging through the first aid kit, Spencer grabs the saline solution, pouring it onto the wound to keep it clean whilst they were waiting for the paramedics before Spencer placed the bandages on top and put pressure on the wound.

All eyes snapped to you when you gave a groan as Spencer put more pressure on the wound. “Spence?” You asked, voice thick with sleep. “What you doing? What happened?”

“You passed out from blood loss on the stairs,” Hotch said, “We’ll be talking about that when you’re feeling better. The paramedics should be here soon.”

“I passed out?” You asked, look made eye contact with Morgan - who in this situation managed a teasing smirk. “Oh god, I’m never going to live this down.”

“Mum and Dad are so going to ground you,” Morgan said, motioning to Rossi and then Hotch, who both rolled their eyes.

“In all seriousness,” Hotch said, cutting Derek off as he went to add another comment, “I will be grounding you."

You gave a chuckle, grimacing at the pain that flooded through your side. "Sorry," Hotch said, you shook your head.

"My fault," You admitted, Hotch rolled his eyes.

"Paramedics are three minutes out,"

"That's fine," You said, waving your hand dismissively.

"I'm not sure the blood flow is reducing," Spencer chimed, eyes flicking up to Hotch.

"You sure?" You asked, "Nah, it'll be alright. The writers can't kill off the best looking character. Derek would get too confident,"

Morgan gave a snort, rolling his eyes, "What are you on about?"

"I don't even know," You said with a wince.

Morgan turned to Reid, "Is delusional a symptom of blood loss?" Spencer gently shook his head.

Hotch gave Morgan a look and opened his mouth ready to lecture you both, when the paramedics jogged up the stairs to the jet.

You gave them a small wave, "Oh, hey," Morgan face palmed.

"Can we take a look?" The paramedic asked.

"At least take me to dinner first," You muttered, before giving them a nod. "Yeah, sure,"

"We're going to need to you take to hospital, we'll give you some painkillers to help with the pain, and you'll be taken to surgery,"

"How long is that gonna take?" If Hotch’s glare was anything to go by, that was not the right thing to say. "I mean, thank you."

JJ quickly told the paramedics you had taken some painkillers, they nodded, noting it down. Before they began their work. Soon enough you were in the back of an ambulance with Hotch, high on morphine.

"Morgan’s right," You said, turning to Hotch, patting his arm, "You really are the dad of the team."

"Rossi’s going to be so happy to find out that he's the mum of the team,"

"He does tend to mother hen," You acknowledged, Hotch huffed a laugh.

When the paramedics edged the gurney out of the ambulance, Rossi stood anxiously at the entrance. "Are you okay?" He turned to the paramedics, "Is he okay?"

You and Hotch glanced at each other, you giggling and Hotch trying his best to hold back a laugh.

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sour-heart-treats · 5 months

Text

[Almnesia Was His Name Pt. 4 - CW: Memory Loss - Previous, Next]

The hospital lights were a lot brighter than Almond wished for them to be. Sitting in the waiting room of the hospital Latte had booked him for had the detective more than a bit fidgety. It reminded him too much of the times he was stuck inside waiting for a moment to escape and grab a smoke. Though rather than wanting to escape for a cigarette, he was more worried about his work and the discovery that there could be something wrong with him. His unfocused gaze stared so deep into the floor that he may as well be digging it out, he would only be interrupted from his anxieties by the shifting of his overcoat. Perking up and rubbing at his eyes to get a clearer vision, he'd look to his side and find Walnut trying to slink underneath his coat. "It's cold..." She'd complain lightly, the fact that there were metal arms on the chairs between them making this whole crawling situation more awkward for the both of them.

The older detective looked away for a moment, unsure of what entirely to do. He didn't even realize it was that cold until it was mentioned. Right... what would be the 'mom' thing to do in this situation? "Uh." Alm buffered a response, then decided perhaps it would be better to just give up his coat. It's not like he was wearing it properly anyway, even if the cold got to his body before it got to his brain. "Here, kid. You can have it until you get too warm, okay?" There was a happy little 'yay!' from the kid as she practically snatched the overcoat from Almond's shoulders and put it on herself with practiced ease. Ha. She looked cute wearing something way too big for her.

"Mothers always know best, huh?" The second voice nearly startled Almond out of his chair. Whipping around, he'd practically forgotten that Latte was here. Right... Walnut needed someone to watch over her while he was getting checked on. Whatever that entailed... he wasn't exactly looking forward to it. "Right, yea, Mother knows best," the investigator would echo half-heartedly, hoping that his heart that tried beating out of his chest would calm before he was called back. Right. Since he was here, he may as well pry some information out of his colleague. "So... how are they gonna go about this whole thing? Scan my brain with magic or something?" The medical magical field may be well-researched and strongly supported, but as someone who's run across so many uses of magic malpractice...

"Oh, no, not at all! This place actually uses a lot of alternative methods to magic instead! I know how you are when it comes to medmagic." He doesn't recall ever expressing distaste for it, but perhaps that's just his demeanor giving it away. "There's this one doctor that I've heard hasn't failed a patient yet! I'm surprised I was able to schedule something so soon... and something that matched your schedule, too!" "Sure, 'matched'... If my communicator goes off, then I will have to dart out of here. You know that, right?" "Well, at least you won't be leaving Walnut all alone again!" Almond does not want to acknowledge the multiple times he has forgotten Walnut at the local park or school from having to commit to his duties at his second job. If he has to pretend to be some child's mom, can't he at least pretend to be a good mom? Though... he does feel horrible about it, as much as he wants to push that into the back of his mind and forget about it. It's not as if he could remember the kid's name for more than ten minutes at a time.

"Almond Cookie. Almond, the doctor is ready to see you." Oh. It's time. The detective would take a deep breath and push himself up from his chair, feeling a lingering chill on his hands from the metal bars of the chair's arms as he'd take a few steps then pause. Alm glanced behind him, making sure the two were following before following whatever nurse was going to give him a briefing and whatever else. Height and weight gauging, going over the medical history he had- noting that he didn't have any form of memory issues beforehand. Whilst that was being mentioned, Almond side-eyed Walnut, wondering if she should really be hearing this part. She didn't seem to mind, though, clinging to Latte's side and just enjoying the coat that was far beyond her proper size. It made him... smile. Wally wasn't something he'd expect to care for much, but in fleeting moments like these, he'd find that there was something in his mind that liked it far more than just anyone else's child grinning from ear to ear.

Most general go-overs were a blur. They were nothing important and were promptly treated as such by the detective's mind. It wasn't until his mind was prompted back to focus by a slab of red coming into his vision. Oh... the doctor. Blinking back to take in his surroundings properly, he was sat on the cushioned bed-turned-chair of an examination room. To his side, seats filled by the two ladies that'd come with him. Latte seemed to be staring at him worriedly while holding the kiddo's hand. The little one on the other hand seemed to be curious about her surroundings and staring at the doctor who greeted them all warmly. "Good afternoon! I'm Dr. Cassonade... I heard that you all are here with some concerns about memory issues?" Latte would nod, turning her attention to the medical professional. Red suit, dark brown hair with orange-ish speckles of brown sugar darted through it, dark green tie, and glasses reminiscent of a certain lawyer... This was the one she'd heard about, certainly. "Yes! Yes, I'm certain you've heard about the oddities... We were wondering if you could see if something had gone on to cause this."

The doctor would nod, looking between the two in the chairs before raising their gaze to Almond, who stared back incredulously. "You must be Almond, I assume? It is very nice to meet you!" Such warmth would only be met with a gruff 'mhm'. Cassonade stood awkwardly still at the unfriendly response, though continued to smile and acted as if the moment hadn't happened. He'd head to the other side of the small room the four were all in, poking at some monitor with information that Almond couldn't see from where he sat. Probably a whole bunch of medical mumbo-jumbo he couldn't begin to understand. "Right," Casso would begin, "when it comes to things like this... I would first like to do some prerequisite testing. See what you do and don't remember- along with some general mental faculty tests! Now, most of it was done when you completed the check-in form-" he doesn't remember filling one of those out, but he does remember holding a pen recently for some reason, "-I still have other things I wish to check... Like response time and personal memory!"

The doc would lean out from behind their monitor and look at non-patients with a certain softness that Almond almost read as some form of empathy. "So, for that, I'll need to be alone with Almond here, if that's okay? You can stand outside, I just need the room for us." "Oh, sure!" Latte chirped, gracefully standing up and adjusting her hat with her still available hand. "Come on, sweetie. Mom's going to have the doctor make sure he's all healthy and happy, okay?" "Okay!" The mentioned 'sweetie' would follow behind Latte, though would keep the heavy door open for just a moment as she stared down the medic with something akin to scorn. Though she looked more like an angry puppy than anything else. "You better make mommy feel better!!" There was a laugh from Casso as they gave her a pat on the helmet that Almond found nearly gave him a knee-jerk reaction of a growl. Why would he...? He doesn't know this kid.

Once the door was closed, Dr. Cassonade would take a deep breath and keep that damned smile on their face. They adjusted their glasses, then reached into a drawer underneath the screen that they were using earlier to pull out a whiteboard, marker, and sterile cleaning rag. "What is this, elementary school?" Almond would state with underlying scorn. How is this supposed to show that he has memory issues? "I know, I know... It may seem childish, but I promise it will help! Unless you'd... like to just tell me your answers verbally." "Yes. Yes, I would." "A-ah, alright then!" And thusly, the objects would be put away in favor of some flash cards. Two packs, one with shapes, colors, numbers... and one with people- with the second one looking handmade. Equally as degrading to see. He's not five! He's-... how old was he again? Ugh, that didn't matter! "Now, I'm going to show you some simple images, and I want you to identify them, okay? If you don't recognize one, just tell me and I'll tell you what it is and skip to the next one. Does that sound alright to you?" Almond rubbed at his face, reluctant but nodding all the same. "Sure, sure. Let's just get this over with."

Answering the cards was a breeze, truly. These were things anybody knew. Animals, shapes, colors, and numbers, all things someone would learn in early years of school. It was almost patronizing how delighted the doctor was to see him succeed at something so simple. Every time they'd write something down, he couldn't help but glower at the medic. This almost felt like being at a pediatric's office rather than being at an actual hospital. "Alright, I'm happy to say that things are going relatively swimmingly right now, but... this may be a lot harder for you." That second set of flashcards seemed to tease him the way it glinted under the room's lights, which were still too bright for him to enjoy. Perhaps he's been taking too many late-night calls and the brightness was becoming adverse for him. The doctor took off the rubber band that held the cards together, picking out the first of what was arguably a very thin deck. "These are people that I've heard you've been close to. Family, friends, coworkers... All of those. Don't feel bad if you don't remember all of them! Heck, even I forget some of the names of the ones I've worked with for months..." The doctor gave a light laugh, then turned over the first card for Almond to look at.

Some dark-eyed person with brown and white hair, looking sleep-deprived in his black and purple garments. Silence fell through the room, a bead of sweat forming on the investigator's forehead from the lack of recognition. "I... don't know." He'd admit in a low voice, trying to hide whatever shame was bubbling in his chest. "That's Cappuccino," the doctor would answer for him, "he's a friend of yours. He's a very famous prosecutor! From what I've heard, you two share case information all the time..." Odd. He should know this person. Hell, he saw those texts a while back with that name! Ugh, at least some of the dots connected. "Next card?" Casso would ask, earning a hesitant nod.

A person with slitted eyes, wearing a cloak with an oversized collar. With glasses like that, some suit that seemed to double as a lab coat... It took a bit too long, but Almond knew this one. "That's... Espresso, isn't it? One of the Parfaedia teachers?" A coworker, albeit one he didn't speak to much. Didn't he work on coffee magic or something with Latte? "Good! Next one!" "Eclair." "Yes! The museum curator. You looked into multiple cases of thieves trying to get into his museum every now and then... And who is this?" "Ruh... Phan..." Almond had to parse through his thoughts for a moment, but gave a proper answer to the expectant doc whose smile looked a little less infantilizing. "Phantom Bleu." "Yes, famous phantom thief! Who wouldn't know them?" Hypothetical question, of course. Especially since the detective barely held any memory of who that was outside of some newspaper bits that he'd read over the past few days... with the exact details missing from his thoughts. "And this one?" "Oh, Latte." "Nice, yes! She came in with you, just like..." Though there was a given hint, the image before him gave a blank. He'd just seen her. He'd given her something to stay warm- though Almond had to reach back to realize that his overcoat wasn't there to remember what he'd given-...

There was a sudden migraine in his head as something tried to claw its way out of his mind. Almond raised a hand to his head, to which the doctor looked at him worriedly. "No need to stress! You know her, certainly..." That didn't make things better. Squeezing a portion of his hair to try and lessen the pain, he'd try to pry out an answer. The little girl with the sweetest smile and ponytail that looked just like her name... what was... who was she again? What was her name? "I..." He didn't know. He didn't know the little one with the helmet and little detective garb, who felt so important in his heart but was lost in his mind. Stress-induced sweat dripped down the side of the commissioner's face before the card was inevitably given a name. "Walnut... you know her." He should. He should, and yet... "I don't... I don't know her." Why did his face feel red? Why did his head hurt so much? Where did this sudden spike of stress come from?

The doctor would write a quick note with his one open hand and approach Almond with haste at the sight of the other's mental starting to deteriorate with the onset of panic. "Ah, it's okay! You are okay, I promise-... Simply because you may not remember your daughter right now doesn't mean-" "How could I not remember my own daughter?! How is that in any way okay?!" The detective's raised voice would cause the doctor to flinch, a few specks of brown sugar falling from their hair before they composed themself and took the patient's hand. Not the best course of action, especially if the patient was adverse to touch- he was- but... "Deep breaths. Your mind may just be a little scrambled right now. We still need to run a few more so we can determine what's wrong with you...! If there is anything-" "Do you hear yourself?! Of course there is! How could I-" Almond paused, breath stifling to the point where Cassonade had gotten worried that his heart stopped. But no... Something had brought a sudden soothing sensation across him. Or- at least- it left him numb. The detective blinked and looked down at the card that was in the medic's hand, seemingly mildly confused. "...and who is that supposed to be?"

"Wally, sweetheart... you shouldn't be peeking in on your mother..." Latte would give a very light scold, looking up from her phone to see Walnut's back with her body pressed against the door. Her helmet was set on the ground so that she could more firmly press against the hardwood and determine what was being said. And though Latte wouldn't get a response at first, the moment she gave Walnut a light touch, the child would rip away from her. Swinging around to face Latte, Walnut would look at the teacher with tears in her eyes. "He... he forgot about me..." She'd whimper, one hand gripping the coat that was practically half on the floor from her lack of height. "Huh? Sweetie, no, he'd never-..."

"He doesn't remember me!! He- he knows you, but not me!" A sob tore itself from Walnut's throat as Latte would kneel to her height. Her hand would hover over the child's shoulder. "I bet mom doesn't even love me anymore!! How- how could he-?!" Latte's heart hurt. How does she even begin to explain the situation at hand? "Mommy still loves you sweetie, it's just that he's... his brain is being a little weird right now." "IT'S BEING MEAN!! HE'S BEING MEAN!!" Walnut whipped off the overcoat, pausing for a moment with the cloth balled up in her hands while her breathing stuttered from the emotional agony that coursed through her. Though it wasn't processing entirely, she knew that she was hurting. Her mother forgot her. Everything they did together- it meant Nothing to him!! With a screeching yell, Walnut would throw the overcoat she'd been wearing at Latte and run off. And though the teacher tried reaching for Walnut, being pelted in the face with the elder's jacket made her unable to see well enough- or at all, for that matter- to catch her. By the time the coat had been pulled off, dragging her hat off with it, Walnut was already turning the corner of the hospital hallway.

"...oh dear." Latte stood herself up, brushing herself off and picking up Almond's jacket to hold as she gave chase. "This is- This is going to be a long car ride home...!"

#latte cookie #almond cookie #bredele de cassonade cookie #walnut cookie #cookie run #crob #crk #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #self indulgent writings #angst drabbles #ask to tag #cw memory loss

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