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Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 3: The Debrief

Book Summary: John "Soap" MacTavish has hated you since the very first day you arrived on base and joined their Task Force. You argue all the time, and one day, it pushes Captain Price to his absolute limit. He sends you both away to an isolated cabin in the woods for a week in hopes you can put aside your differences and bond. Will it work? Or will you two just end up hating each other even more?

This is a slow burn enemies to lovers fan fiction featuring Soap and you, the reader.

Word Count: 5,581

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Soap is mean, like really mean, smut later to come, rough smut, lots of swearing, violence, descriptive, blood, angst, fluff, slow burn, (more to come as I write)

A/N: Enjoy this one!

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Bitter Allies • Part 3

It was a relief when you finally pulled up to the rendezvous site. Medics were already on standby outside of the helo with a stretcher and supplies. Ghost, in his classic white skull mask, stood among them, watching as your transport rolled in.

Soap was the first one out, giving information to the medical team as they rushed up to take General Azamat away. You slipped out the other side, walking around the vehicle and straight to the waiting helicopter. The General's blood still stained your hands, and you wanted desperately to wash them. Before you can board though, you pass by Ghost, who stops you by grabbing your arm.

"You look like shit. He give you trouble?" Ghost asks, his voice gruff. Ghost wasn't a man of many words, but there always was an odd comfort in the way he spoke. Though to anyone outside of the military, he probably just seemed intimidating and rude.

"Doesn't he always?" You answer your lieutenant, glancing back over to your shoulder as you watched Soap help the medics lift General Azamat onto the stretcher. Ghost follows your gaze and lets go of your arm.

"Go get cleaned up. You did good today." His words gave you a little reassurance, but you aren't too accepting of them at the moment.

"Johnny would disagree." You grumble to Ghost before stepping up into the helo.

The entire mission seemed like a reck from the very beginning. Nothing seemed to go smoothly. Maybe it was just because you were working with Soap. Or maybe it was because you felt like you'd made too many mistakes, ones that Soap was more than happy to point out constantly. Then again, why should you care what he thought? Maybe things did go fairly well, and you just couldn't see that right now. All you knew was that you were exhausted, and your hands were dirty.

You only had access to wet wipes and rubbing alcohol until you got back to base but that was far better than just sitting with someone else's blood staining your hands. Pulling them from a small metal cabinet attached to the side of the helo, you sit down and get to work on scrubbing away at your hands. Slowly the white pristine cloths turn pink.

Shortly after you get to scrubbing your hands, the General is loaded up next to you. The medics are a mass of chaotic movement as they tend to him, and you find yourself getting up to move to a different spot.

Right as you find a calmer place to sit on the other side of the helicopter, there's a single muddy boot stepping into your line of sight. Looking up, you see Soap is trying to board, and you lock eyes with him for a long tense moment. Him mid-step up onto the helo, and you staying firmly planted where you'd sat down. Before anything can start, Ghost steps in.

"Problem?" He asks, breaking Soap out of his frozen state. Soap steps back down then so both of his feet are firmly planted on the ground.

"With her? Several." He mutters, eyes staying locked onto yours. You roll your eyes at him, clenching your jaw.

"That's enough, Soap." Ghost scolds, his voice firm. "You're going to have to wait for the next bird anyway. This one's full." He continues, which was the best news you'd heard all day. "See you on base, States." Ghost adds.

With that, Ghost gives two rough pats to the side of the metal helo, and the blades start to whirl faster. Before you can fully leave though, you can't help but make one more jab at your annoying field partner.

"Hope next time it doesn't hit the plate!" You shout over the loud sounds of the chopper taking off. You didn't really mean that, but exhaustion and stress were getting the better of you, and you were annoyed.

"Oh, thanks for the parting wish, States! You're a real charmer!!" He shouts back, trying to take a step closer, but Ghost puts an arm in front of him to keep him back.

You roll your eyes and slide the helo door shut. Through the little window, you watch as Soap and Ghost back further away from the helicopter. Ghost gives a thumbs up to the pilot, signaling they were all clear, and then it starts to lift off the ground. Peace until you land back on base and inevitably run into Soap again.

***

Ghost and Soap watch as the bird takes off, carrying their target and teammate away. The next transport would be arriving shortly to take the remaining men and women back. For now, they just needed to sit tight.

As soon as the loud sounds of the helo were fading into the distance, Soap lets out a long groan and rolls his neck and shoulders. Typically, Ghost preferred to stay away from their drama, but his brother-in-arms and close friend seemed a little more tense than usual.

"What was that all about?" He ventures, watching Soap cross his arms tightly across his chest.

"Ah, just fucking stateside bonnie boakin'," he mutters under his breath. "I swear she purposely acts like a brat just to piss me off. Well, she's doing a bloody good job at that, ain't she?" He continues on, letting out a stressed laugh as Ghost continues to listen silently. "Never thought I'd ever meet someone who just grates on my nerves as much as she does."

"I think she'd say the same about you." Ghost replies, getting more exasperated expressions from the Scot.

"Are you really siding with her?! I tell her fucking no, and she does the opposite, I tell her what to do, and she rolls her eyes at me like a fucking child! Whenever she's around, I can just feel my shoulders get tense, and I just had to do an entire mission like that with her!"

Ghost huffs as he listens to Soap. "You two just need to fuck and get it out of your system."

Soap nearly choked on his own spit at Ghost's remark. Ghost was pretty blunt at times, but this was a whole new level. He ran a hand over his face, his cheeks coloring slightly at the thought of even sleeping with States. He'd rather die than ever sleep with her.

"Go fuck yourself, Ghost." He retorted, thinking the man must have been joking. This was just one of Ghost's dry humored jokes. "If you really think sex is going to fix anything, you're as delusional as her." Annoyance was beginning to creep back into his tone.

Ghost rolls his eyes at the Sergeant, though doesn't let him see that. "You never heard of hate-fucking? Sex is a great way to let off steam. Releases tension. And you and States got so much damn tension." Ghost took that moment to light a cigarette then, putting his mask up just enough to light it and take a drag. "Gives me fucking headache," he continues, exhaling slowly. "Watching you two fight all the damn time."

"Well you're just full of great advice, aren't you then?" He rolls his eyes sarcastically, still a bit stunned at his lieutenant's words. "As thrilling as that sounds," Ghost raises a brow at him, making Soap's tone change to a more harsh one. "I prefer my sex not to come with a big ol'side of hostility. What, do you like her or something and want to live vicariously through me?"

Ghost lets out a laugh, which for him was just a light huff of air. Either way, it was very rare for Ghost to laugh at anything. "I'm not the relationship type, Johnny." He says simply, taking another short puff of his cigarette. "Besides," he exhales the smoke. "If she means nothing, then why are you getting all testy about it?"

"I'm not testy!" He retorts defensively, his tone somewhat contradictory to what he was trying to prove. He realizes this and takes a deep breath to calm down. "I just... I don't like her. That's all. There isn't anything deeper than that." There couldn't be anything deeper. He refused to even venture down that path. "Let's just drop it. I don't want to talk about her anymore, and I don't want to fuck her either. End of story."

Ghost had a slight smirk on his face. Whether or not Soap did have deeper feelings beyond hate for the 141 girl, it was just a little amusing to see him so worked up. He didn't really care too much if he was right or wrong. "Whatever you say, Johnny." He muses, finishing off his cigarette and flicking it to the ground to stomp it out.

In the distance, he could hear the spinning blades of the second helo. He hears Soap grumble at his response, clearly not happy that Ghost was acting like he didn't believe him.

As soon as the big metal bird landed, Soap was rushing to board it. Ghost doesn't push the subject of him and States any further though. It was fun to tease the Sergeant and get him worked up, but Ghost knew when to stop too. Still, that doesn't stop Ghost from smirking as he follows him to the helicopter.

***

By the time you arrive on base, you just want to collapse in your room and sleep. First you need to shower though. Blood, sweat, and dirt stuck to your skin, weighting down your tired body even more. You hope that the showers aren't full and that you'll be able to grab one rather quickly. You want to get in some sleep before the mission debrief.

The helicopter doors slide open, and you jump out, feet hitting the tarmac. A dull ache shoots up your legs, a familiar feeling post mission.

Up ahead, you can see Captain Price is waiting. He always touches base with each squad member upon their return from a mission if he's around. It's a rather sweet gesture.

He's standing with his arms behind his back, feet spread shoulder length apart, and spine straight as a board. The bucket hat he never goes anywhere without is atop his head, threatening to blow off due to the wind caused by the helicopter and of course a cigar between his lips. Despite the tiredness, you're happy to see him.

"States, glad you see you've returned to us in one piece." He teases. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, yet they still remain hardened from all the time he's served.

You give him a smile, allowing yourself to stop and enjoy his company. "I don't feel like I'm in one piece. This was a rough one." You admit easily. Despite only knowing him for six months, Price was a man you trusted deeply.

Price raises his brow at your response, looking a little surprised by your answer. "I heard the update from Ghost. Sounds like some unexpected challenges came up. Nothing I didn't think you couldn't handle."

"Just... beating myself up about it. I don't like deviating from the plan." It wasn't a lie, but not the whole truth either.

"Important lesson to be learned there, States. No matter how much you plan for something, never count on it being final. You will never be able to plan for everything. This life will always take you by surprise. You can either let it get you down, or you can run with it."

You can't help but smile at the old man. "Thanks Price. You and your old man wisdom. I'll file that one away."

Price chuckles softly, though you can tell he's trying to read you right now. He's very subtle about it, but you've learned how to detect it. His eyes give him away.

"I might be old, but I'm not blind. What else is buggin' you?"

Of course he'd notice. Nothing gets past the Captain. "What do you think?" You injury, watching as he shifts his weight and crosses his arms.

"Hmm..." He mocks like he needs to think about it. "Wouldn't be MacTavish would it?"

"Wow, that's insane. How'd you know?" You banter, watching as he rolled his eyes at your jesting.

"Lucky guess." He says simply.

"You put us together on a mission," you state, getting a nod from your Captain.

"I did." He confirms.

"Why?" You frown. Price knew you didn't get along. He knew nothing good came from you two being in the same room. Yet for some reason, he sent you out with him anyway.

Price sighs softly, looking away from you for a moment as if he needed to think out what he wanted to say. After a moment, he answers you.

"I don't think you realize the potential of just how good of a team you and Soap could be." He starts. You open your mouth to disagree, but Price holds up a hand to silence you before continuing.

"This mission required someone who can move quick and clean out a building fast. I've never seen someone able to clear out a building like Soap can. And he can do that regardless on if it's stealth or chaos. But when he doesn't know what to do, he slows down. You can think quick under pressure. No matter how stressful things get, you always deliver. You always know how to continue the mission. That combination of skill was perfect for this mission."

You look away from the Captain, not wanting to believe him, but the mission today proved how right Price was. It may have taken a life or death situation, but you and Soap worked together for the first time today, and it was rather incredible. Even you were shocked at how well and quick you moved together, even with a few hiccups. If you just didn't hate each other that combination could be practiced and refined even more.

"But he hates me, Price."

"I don't think he does." Price counters, but you don't believe him. Just like how he said Soap would warm up to you.

"He absolutely does."

"Well the mission was more than less a success. Seems like you've at least had a break through."

You laugh at that, though you can't blame Price for that assumption. You also thought so until Soap reverted back to being a dick.

"Respectfully, Captain, I think you're wrong. Nothing has changed. And I don't know if it ever will."

Before your conversation can continue, the sound of the second helicopter flying in draws your attention to the sky. Soap was on that helo. Unless you'd miraculously gotten your wish, and he'd fallen out on the way over.

Doubtful.

"That's my cue to head out, Cap. I'll see you at the debrief." You tell him, getting a nod from your Captain. You give his arm a pat as you pass by him, catching his parting words.

"You better be heading to the showers! You show up to debrief smelling like shit, and I'll have you cleaning bathrooms for a week!"

***

Soap is both relieved to be back on base as well as dreading it. Relieved because this is his home, a place where he is safe and can rest, and dreading it because the biggest thorn in his side was also here. Where, he wasn't sure, but she was here.

He was currently giving Ghost the silent treatment, childish as it may be. Though he hadn't really gotten the chance to ignore him either. Ghost was fairly silent on the trip back to base, though Soap should have known better than to think he'd be super talkative. Maybe the things Ghost said earlier was just a way to shut him up so he could enjoy a peaceful ride back, but Soap knew Ghost would never lie to him either.

Soap really just wanted to be alone for a bit. Take a nice hot shower to clear his head, maybe get something to eat. He still had the mission debrief he needed to go to later, and he knew he'd run into States there. So really all he needed to do was survive another few hours in her presence and then he can be free of her for a little bit.

As he jumps off the helo, he's already looking around for Price. If he wasn't off on a mission himself or too busy there was usually a 50/50 chance he'd be there post mission. And sure enough, it doesn't take Soap long to spot the Brit. Unfortunately, he really didn't feel up to talking. There was no way to avoid Price though. He stood right where Soap needed to go to leave.

He approaches his Captain, giving him a nod in greeting and hoping he could just slip by. "Captain." He mutters as he attempts to just walk past him.

"Got somewhere you need to be?" Price asks him, turning to look at Soap as he stops by the ramp that leads down to the ground.

"Just wanting to hit the showers." Soap grumbles, unable to keep his irritation from his voice.

Sensing the Sergeant was on edge, Price simply nods, allowing Soap to leave. "Just be on time for the mission debrief." He tells the solider. Soap gives a nod and is off. Price watches him leave, a frown pulling at his lips.

Ghost slowly makes his way over to Price, having watched the encounter between the Sergeant and the Captain. Price was still watching where Soap had just made his exit. "Was it really that bad?" He asks the Lieutenant.

Ghost's voice was steady, a hint of fatigue underlying his words. "It was pretty rough," he replied. "They're like oil and water. Fought the whole way. Thought they might've killed each other at one point—I guess States just got into some trouble. Not really sure."

He paused a moment before continuing. "When it got serious, they managed to get it done. First time I've ever really seen them do a half decent job together. It was still sloppy. States and Soap need to sort their shit out.”

Price lets out a long sigh. "Sucks that the only thing that makes them work together is when their life depends on it."

"I don't think today was a total failure for them." Ghost reassures Price. "At least we know when it matters they'll have each other's backs. They might just need more time."

"I've given them six months. I thought for sure Soap would come around by now."

"Just give them time, old man. Let things settle. I think Johnny'll come around yet."

***

The one thing you hated most about the base you currently resided on was that you were not given your own showers. Your room didn't even have a bathroom to get ready in. There was a communal bathroom in both the men's and women's barracks, equipped with toilets, sinks, and mirrors, but the shower house was a completely different building.

The men's and women's shower houses were separate but they were still right next to each other. The odd design choice could be explained by the fact that the base was older. Back in the day, they didn't have many females in the armed forces, so the shower house was only designed for one gender. When more and more women began to sign up, they simply just modified the current shower house instead of building a new one.

This design meant that the showers were always fairly crowded. And this was unfortunately the reality you faced as you approached the building. There was a line out the door for both the men's and women's section. Sighing, you had no choice but to join the back of the line. Not only were you desperate for a shower, but you also headed Price's warming that if you stank at the mission debrief, there'd be consequences. You really had no choice.

You'd only been waiting for about five minutes before the universe decided to bless you once again. Right as your line was beginning to move up, right as you thought you'd be able to make it into the shower house without running into your field mate, you hear his voice.

"Oh you are fucking with me." You hear him say as he realizes you were also in line. You turn to look towards Soap, watching as he stepped into the men's line, right alongside the women's. You scowl him, folding your arms across your chest as you look him over.

He was covered in a layer of dirt from the mission, and he stank. As you look at the items he was carrying, you can help but raise your brows in surprise.

"How the hell are you taking a shower with only body wash and a wash cloth?" You had a whole set of shampoo, conditioner, soap, face wash, body scrub, a razor, a loofa, deodorant, and a moisturizer. Given this wasn't your everyday routine. Just the one you did after missions to get the blood off you and help you destress. All he had though was a single tiny bottle of body wash. It wasn't even good body wash. It was the crappy stuff they issued to everyone in the military for free.

Soap looks over the shower bag you carried, rolling his eyes as he viewed all the products you had with you. "This is more than enough to get clean. You don't need all that fancy shite." He claims. "This is the military, not a five star hotel or a spa."

"Just cause we're in the military doesn't mean we can't have good hygiene." You grumble back.

"My hygiene is fine."

"Says the man about to only wash his armpits."

"I can wash my whole body with this."

"What about your hair? Just cause you don't have a lot of it doesn't mean you shouldn't wash that too. Oh God..." you realize it then, your face scrunching up. "Please don't tell me you wash your hair with fucking body wash."

"It's an all-in-one wash, princess. It's meant to be used for everything." Soap growls out, getting annoyed very fast.

"Don't you dare call me, princess, John." You knew he hated it when you called him by his first name. But if he was going to be calling you names, then two could play at that game. And boy did he hate that. His face got red as he glared at you.

"Why don't you just worry about your own damn self?! Like figuring out what you're going to tell Price at the mission debrief when it comes up you almost fucked up our cover! Worry about not getting kicked off the team. Or don't, cause I'd love to watch your bonnie little ass walk off this base!" He snaps, his raised voice getting the attention of the officer standing guard near the front of the line at the shower house's entrance.

"Hey! Break it up!" He yells at you both. "If you're going to cause problems then you don't get to shower!"

You and Soap both clench your jaws, glaring daggers at each other and throwing silent threats back and forth with your eyes. "See you at the debrief, States." Soap whispers lowly before turning his gaze forward.

"Get some damn shampoo." You whisper back, mirroring his action and also looking forward.

***

You can't say that taking a shower made you feel much better. You blamed that on Soap. Maybe the shower would have been a lot better had it not been for his awful company.

Now you found yourself standing outside of the debrief room. Normally you weren't too nervous about post mission debriefs, but this one felt different. Soap was in your head, and you worried you really had messed up.

Off in your own little world, staring at the door, you jump hearing a voice.

"You having a staring contest with that door? I hate it say it, but I think it's probably gonna win." It was Gaz. You're not sure how long he'd been standing there. His warm chocolate eyes met yours, and they go from amused to slightly concerned.

"You alright, States?" He asks softly, and you give him a smile.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a long day." You reassure him, finally grabbed the door handle and pushing it open, not giving him a chance to ask anything further.

"Just take it easy, yeah? We've all had tough missions." He smiles, giving your back a gentle pat before taking a seat.

Soap was already inside, chatting away with Ghost. They were sitting next to each other, while Price was standing in the front with Kate Laswell on a screen. Normally she joined you this way. It was rare she was ever in the area to be in-person.

Gaz takes a seat across from Ghost, leaving you to sit across from Soap. It was a rather large table, so there was a sizable distance between you. That doesn't keep Soap from eyeing you as you take a seat though.

"What?" You inquire defensively when he won't stop.

"Oh, nothing. Just want to make sure my poor hygiene isn't bothering your sensitive nose." He throws back, getting an elbow to the ribs from Ghost. A warning.

"Alright," Price says, making everyone in the room turn their focus to him. He was looking right at you and Soap. "Now that everyone is here, let's get started. Let's try to stay on task too, yeah?"

A mixture of "yes sir" or "aye sir" filled the room, and the debrief started.

It began as all debriefs did, with an overview of the mission objectives. Then discussion began on if each one was met. This part of the debrief had actually gone fairly smoothly. All main objectives had been met in one way or another. It wasn't until you got to the part where you'd needed to deviate from the plan that it started going south.

"So as we all know," Price began. "A Russian convoy began to approach the base within 0800. This resulted in our Bravo team having to stray from our original plan."

"Thanks to States, we got back on track quickly." Ghost fills in. "It was her idea to have Alpha team move in so her and Soap could infiltrate the West building."

Price nods towards you. "Good call on that, States. Your plan worked well."

That brings a smile to your face for a moment until you hear Soap huff a little and mutter, "give me a break," under his breath. You turn your gaze to him, jaw tight. He's sitting slouched in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, and still looking towards.

"As solid a plan as it was though, it seems it took Bravo team a long time to reach the West building. Who's to say a back up plan would have been needed if this objective was met sooner." Laswell adds. "It looks like comms went silent for a while. Soap care to weight on what happened during that time?"

Soap was smiling, but he just shakes his head. "Nah, States can probably fill you in better since it was her doing." He says, making you glare harshly at him.

"Laswell asked-" Price starts, but is cut off by you.

"There was a group of four men, and I wanted to take them out so we could continue on the faster route to the building. Soap didn't want to be a team player and wouldn't help me." You start in, making Soap instantly glare at you for, what he believed to be, twisting the story.

"Don't you dare twist this like it was my fault!" He exclaims, before looking back to Price and continuing. "I said it was too risky and opted to go around. But she just had to prove a point and went in to take on four men all by herself!" He points a finger at you.

"It wasn't too risky! You just didn't want to do it cause it was my idea!"

"Who the fuck cares!? You don't do that and put your partner and the entire mission at risk!"

"It was fine! I took out three and you got the last one! Nothing bad happened!"

"Yeah, I took him out right as he was about to call for back up! It's a bloody good thing I got there in time! And just cause nothing bad happened doesn't mean-"

"Enough! Stop!" Price yells. "You were asked a bloody question, fucking answer it and stop addressing each other!" He growls before repeating Laswell's question. "Now, why didn't you make it to your objective in a timely manner?"

"Cause States got a big ego and took on four men herself, and we had to take time to clean up the mess." Soap answers, making you slam a fist to the table.

"That took thirty seconds at most! We were late cause Soap had to lecture me for five minutes about it!" You counter.

"Cause you almost bloody got us killed!" Soap shouts back.

"You're being so fucking dramatic, MacTavish!"

"ENOUGH!!" Price yells, slamming both fists to the table. "Bloody hell! This," he motions between you and Soap. "I've had enough of this! The bickering, the glaring, the dirty looks. I've had enough!" He berated you.

"You two are going to like each other, or at the very least tolerate each other. Pack your shit tonight. I'm sending you both away for team bonding. One week. You two, by yourselves, in the middle of fucking nowhere."

Soap's jaw clenched as Captain Price's words echoed around the debriefing room. His blue eyes narrowed at you before looking back to Price. He didn't want this anymore than you did.

"Sir, with all due respect..." he began, managing to keep his voice steady despite the absolute shitstorm brewing inside of him. But Price raised a hand, cutting him off.

"No, Soap. This is final. I don't want to hear another word."

Soap was furious A week. A week in the middle of nowhere with you. The thought alone was enough to make him want to throw something.

His fists clenched as he glared at the women across from him. This was your fault. All of it. He felt the anger rise up in him as he met your eyes and held your gaze.

"Hope you're fucking happy," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You growl at him, about to make a nasty retort, but Price stops you.

"No! No more fighting on this base. One of you opens your mouth again, and I'm making it two weeks." He threatens, making you swallow the words you had for Soap.

"Price..." You address carefully. "I don't see how-"

"Is that 2 weeks I'm hearing, States?" He raises his voice again, showing how serious he was. It makes you clamp your mouth shut.

"No sir." You answers shortly.

"Good. You two are dismissed. Pack. You're leaving at 0400 hours." When you and Soap didn't make a move to get up, Price reiterated. "Right now! Go!"

Nothing more was said. You and Soap both got up and went to the door. Even in the hallway as you both headed towards the barracks, Soap didn't say a word, and you weren't about to break the silence either. You could practically feel the anger radiating off him though.

A whole fucking week together. This was going to be hell.

You parted ways shortly after, Soap's pace a lot faster than yours. You did see him make the turn for his barracks though before you went to yours.

***

Soap entered his room and slammed the door, his hand scraped over his stubble, frustration gnawing at his insides. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his whirring mind. The thought of being stuck with you for an entire week was enough to make his blood boil.

"Calm down, MacTavish," he muttered to himself, his Scottish accent thick with irritation. "You've survived worse." He tries to tell himself, though a week with you seemed like hell to him.

He growls and kicks his dresser. This was all your fault. He'd been looking forward to his next mission without you, or maybe even a little time off. But no. He got to spend a week alone with you.

All he could hope was that you'd make it through the week without killing each other. Shaking his head, he starts to pack furiously.

This was going to be a long week...

***

When you got to your barracks, you leaned back against the door and buried your face in your hands. You tried to come to terms with the fact that you were about to spend a week with Soap MacTavish. Alone. In the middle of nowhere.

This was your nightmare.

You stayed where you were a good five minutes while you let yourself calm down. Your heart was hammering in your chest.

"A week could go by fast though, right? You didn't even need to speak to him during those seven days... you can do this..." You mutter to yourself, as if saying it out loud would somehow make it true.

Sighing softly, you start to pack, pulling out your military duffle bag from under your bed. Despite you trying to convince yourself otherwise, you knew deep down this was going to be a long week.

83 notes · View notes

the-moon-files · 2 days

Note

YESSSSS I BEG GET INTO THE CULTURAL DIDFERENCES BETWEEN HYLIANS AND HUMANS 🙏🙏

...now ur just sweet talking me 🥰 /lh

Not years, well maybe 1 year-

but i have wanted to ramble desperately to smone, even the tumblr void if i had to, abt humans vs. hylians so much, esp with a guide reader or male reader bc whatdya know im into niche stuff that only u and like 2 other ppl like lmao ¯\(ツ)/¯

Anyway im so shocked, since ur like the third person to be interested in this and wanna hear abt it 🥺 🤲💌 here u go!! Hope u like it <333 👉👈

Sun: Masc!Reader (he/him)

Orbit: Humans are Not Hylians/Humans are Space Orcs AU, Headcanons-ish, long overall but each section is kinda short

Stars: Mostly worldbuilding! you've been warned, don't get mad me for not talking abt the boys too much✌️

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of private area/joke in the clothing headcanons, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

just some quick headcanons bc tbh i haven't given it too much thought, and i feel like I've been able to somewhat get into it in other posts? or maybe im thinking of stuff i have in my drafts idk-

Imma make another list, so buckle up for the short ride lol

Courting periods/dating/marriage

individual/small groups society-based hylians v. large personal groups/large community society-based humans

simpler foods hylians v. complex food humans

clothing modesty/style/relationships with fashion

fighting styles/strategies

entertainment complexity/differences

and language

☆

1st one, not much yet, im also making a separate post bc someone else asked me to talk abt that more 🥺

(tysm for all the enthusiastic asks guys <33)

anyway, basically hylian courting is a lot shorter, think “lesbians with the uhaul” type of energy, like sort of the classical medieval “does thee wish to pursue marriage with this one?” ← how hylians ask u out for the first time lmao

if it helps, they do tend to get to know one another well, talking about morals/kids/life goals/preferred lifestyle/house/etc. pretty clearly and quickly, then using the in between time to sort of stew on that information

id say the total time is sort of something like 6 months? maybe 3/4 if they're really compatible

(so bc i love interpreting video game logic for real world building, I actually blame this on how fast Zelda/link get together in games despite having sometimes never met before that moment lol)

like i said, ill be posting about this later

2nd one!!

pretty basic, just saying we don't really see hylians in big groups, despite the organizations they form, like kingdoms/knights or on a more personal level, towns/families/etc.

(once again, in-game appearances/video game logic translated to real life to draw these conclusions)

like not only are family units pretty small, like nuclear family setup, with like 2 parents and 2 kids, or single parent 1 kid type of situation, but the towns or collections of these families arent very big either

hylians kind of use their government the way it was intended lmao?

like the villages and towns matter more for everyday decisions than the kingdom/royalty, like Zelda would esstientally just be the mayor of Castle Town for those constant decisions,

while occasionally is called on to make decisions like for several towns or like is a natural disaster happens

meanwhile humans are, in comparison, in Way Bigger groups, both on an organization scale, and a personal scale

like u have all these specific branches of government, whereas im sure the population difference doesn't help,

and on a personal level, humans can easily have like multiple parents, lots of siblings, and once u combine that with each parent having family too, and those families like to meet up? All together??

yeah, itd look insane to any hylians (who’s smaller extended family may just make up their own village and that's it)

3. I've touched on this

like the use of spices, syrups, seasonings, etc

but also the complexity of dishes too, like chilling cream and mixing it for awhile to make ice cream, or even just getting ordering a pizza,

that's a lot of processing, like making the dough from flour and other ingredients, to letting it rise, to making the tomato paste, making cheese, then combining those things with any other toppings, all into one dish??

i like to think that hylians have only just started to touch on actual complicated cooking processes (as in BOTW, where they sell flour and salt, so people besides Link/Wild must know what to do with it)

this has the advantage of impressing any hylian with what a “creative genius” you are lol

4. look im just a fan of medieval time periods Links

so i think its funny if the hylians are used to like 4/3 layers and ur over here like, “wym, if i take off my shirt there's nothing underneath?”

one of them gets bold enough to ask, “d-do you not. do you not have undergarments??”

you “just my boxers? like just to cover my di-”

also this makes its easy to seduce people here? LMAO

clothes are def higher quality, after all there's not as many artificial processes or materials interfering,

plus u usually get some sick embroidery on it too!!

5. so like i get it, Link is the main fighter in games

but like, the few times there is a war/army in loz games, there's rlly not a lot of strategy, beyond just finding the enemy and fighting

tho im partial to that hylians/most inhabitants of Hyrule abide by the “lets meet up either literally by inviting each other or just between our territories to fight”

with occasional guerilla warfare (by any means necessary/stealth/ambush attacks/strategy) that's only rlly used either by Demise/Ganon, or by the wilder individuals/races in games

or maybe even the more civilized fighters in an emergency

and so that means by this logic that all of the Chain use kind of wild techniques compared to their race/kingdom lmao

id imagine its not too surprising to also see “every fight is a bar fight if its for my life” from individual travelers, so im sure they're not viewed too crazy (esp when ppl know their the hero that constantly has to deal with guerilla warfare from Ganon)

but its be hilarious to watch the reactions of both the Links realizing they’re in a bigger group that should be using “proper” fighting strategies and seeing the general publics reaction to this absolutely feral, armed to the teeth, trained hylians with their equally wild human lol

LMAO everyone thinks ur the reason they started using the more brutal fighting methods bc ur human, ur a bad influence lol

(humans would use it primarily, esp after we converted to use that method in warfare a couple hundred years ago i think?)

changing course a bit, hylians tend to use weapons (to compensate for difference in strength compared to humans, and since they don't experience/get a lesser version of adrenaline)

while humans tend to equally rely on weapons and our body as a weapon (marital arts/basic self-defense)

6. this is mostly bc the hylians only rlly seem to have the basics of music, books/stories, theater, and art

i have, surprise surprise, another post abt how i think this came to be,

mostly based on how human curiosity is indomitable and insatiable and the endless force that has not yet met its immovable object.

or at least an immovable object they haven't at least poked a little, out of curiosity lol

like we went to space for that reason, we reach the most dangerous corners of our planet (deep underwater/volcanoes) out of sheer curiousity/for the sake of simple knowledge of the thing

so needless to say, curiosity can absolutely drive any field to its limits, including the arts, which is why we can have stained glass, or movies/tv shows, hell, the marvel that is Hatsune Miku lmao

(fully for entertainment, a projection of light and sound, what is essentially magical illusions but u did it hte hard way, to the hylians)

on a different entertainment related note, i don't know if the hylians would be super into sports, or not really at all? mostly bc they have to use their fighting/training against real threats, not the sort of “fake” threats that sports are

but on the other hand i could see people like knights wanting to use their abilities for something other than violence and fighting bc their life or their villages lives depended on it

bet the Links would enjoy it for those reasons especially, what with at least sumo wrestling being a sport or activity for them at some point in history, and practically beg u for any new games to play, or to ref their games, bc whewwww

im sure they could get pretty competitive lol

7. obviously, their mostly influenced by the Japanese language

id almost like to imagine a sort of, if not outright Japanese (like with earlier heroes like Sky) then a sort of English-Japanese hybrid further along the line

sort of like how English has German/Greek/Latin roots and therefore u can see what words or structure comes from where, or even how u can understand a fair amount of basic words when other languages share the same roots (english, pants = spanish, pantalones)

would make for some funny miscommunications

or even better, most hylians liking ur unique accent or the Links love to hear u talk bc of it lol

☆

well the fever has broken, i am now free of the sickness that made me hack this up geez

i hope u got some enjoyment out of these my beloved anon!! esp since u were so nice as to ask abt it <33

hope u guys have a great weekend, look out for some more posts, bc its been great to get some more asks in lately and very motivating,

not to mention i actually have time to write now that my siblings graduated/we’ve moved several states over 💀

so i have reliable internet now too! sheesh :’)

Peace out,

🌙

#all the inspo in the world from u guys to write and yet i am FIGHTING my executive function and life circumstances to be here #its ROUGH out here at the moon company inc.#nothing new to file if i dont make some writing blurbs to file away lol #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #male reader #linked universe reader #lu x male reader #link x reader #loz link x reader #linked universe male reader #moon asks #humans are not hylians au #lu humans are space orcs au

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tellmeallaboutit · 16 hours

Text

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 5, In Which You Turn Out To be Capable of More Than You Thought

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 4 (Part 2)

AO3

You had the sweetest dreams.

You lived in a beautiful mansion in a world where capitalism had fallen (which did not prevent you from living in a mansion), you no longer had to work (well, because capitalism had obviously fallen) and, most importantly, you became Raphael's one and only dark consort (you were not sure how capitalism fit into this narrative), whom he cherished and loved more than anyone, even more than the Crown above his horns.

Perched atop Raphael’s lap in the throne room, surrounded by a crowd of souls kneeling before you and begging for your mercy (including your high school bully Thomas, who once locked you up in the bathroom, and the ex who cheated on you), you suddenly heard the distinct ringtone of a Teams call. It's a sound that could never be mistaken for anything else; it could be used as a method of torture.

You made a mental note to suggest this to Raphael later on.

The call seemed downright disrespectful to your new status as the Archduchess of all Hells, so you ignored it; surprisingly, it did not stop. Thinking about how you would ask Raphael to execute whoever disturbed your bliss, you stretched out your hand to swipe the huge green button that was being projected right across the throne hall.

"Anya?" The voice on the other end was familiar, but you couldn't place it.

Your mind struggled to come to life and make sense of your surroundings.

Why were you lying naked?

What time was it?

Why did your whole body ache?

And why was there a wet patch beneath you?

To answer at least the last question, you reached down to touch the moisture between your legs, and saw thick white liquid coating your fingers in the soft morning light. You went for a sniff: smelt like a freshly burned match and salty musk.

Oh, fuck.

Okay, so Raphael wasn't big on safe sex (which probably should have been expected from someone who lived in the House of Hope). Not that you remembered asking him for protection. Not that you were able to or wanted to. The thought of him coming inside you seemed insanely hot yesterday; but now, in the clear light of day, it just seemed insane.

Don’t human women all die horribly giving birth to half-devils?

The voice on the phone called out again, "Anya, are you still there? Are you okay?"

“Yes?”, you responded hesitantly and pulled your fingers away from your nostrils.

"You're fifteen meetings late for our meeting," the voice reminded you, and you finally remembered who it belonged to.

Your supervisor. Not a bad guy, not a good guy, just a burnt out middle-aged man who never imagined himself stuck in middle management while going through a messy divorce.

"We had a meeting?" You asked, even though somewhere deep down in your foggy brain you knew very well that you did have one scheduled.

You sat down on the bed and did you best to suppress a moan: your arse was bruised raw.

“Your development talk, Anya”, your supervisor sighed. “Did you… did you just wake up? It’s fifteen past ten.”

Quick, think of a believable excuse. Your cat died? No, he knows you don't have one. Your grandmother passed? No, that would be disrespectful to her memory. You were robbed? No, then you wouldn't be sleeping so soundly...

"No, I...I didn't," you stammered, desperately trying to come up with something, anything.

"Do you want to turn your camera on?" He asked. "It helps during these talks."

No, you didn't want to turn on your camera unless you wanted to make absolutely sure he saw you stark naked - which was definitely not going to work in your favour (or maybe it would, but you didn't want to test it). You shifted on the bed (your bed made a very obvious, very loud creaking noise) and your supervisor cleared his throat.

“I am not feeling too well, sorry”, you said. “I’d rather not”.

That wasn't entirely false - between the sore arse and what felt like bite marks on various parts of your body and what the hell was that purple bruise on your thigh?

There was silence before he spoke again, "Well then...I guess we're halfway done here. Did you hear about the news?"

“The news?”, you echoed.

"You haven't checked our company website?"

Does anyone actually bother to check those?

"Mmm-hmm," You responded noncommittally.

"Okay," your supervisor sighed. "We've been acquired, and as a result, there will be some changes and layoffs."

"Oh," was all you could manage to say.

"I'm currently making a list of potential layoffs."

"Oh," you repeated, starting to understand where this conversation was going.

"Anya," he began, his tone more serious now. "I don't want to sound harsh, I have enjoyed working with you. As a friendly suggestion: it might look better on your resume if it appeared that leaving was your own decision."

Hell no, you won’t let the corpo screw you over.

“Hey, no, I want a severance package. I’ve been working for this company for three years”.

"Sure," he responded. "You are fully entitled to it. But first, we'll have to review your work activity. You know, what you did on your work computer, which websites you visited, how often you were active."

Maybe you’ll let the corpo screw you over.

“Never mind,” you surrendered. “I’ll come by today to pick up my stuff.”

“I am glad we could find a mutually beneficial decision”, your supervisor said, wished you a nice day, dropped off the call, and left you naked and pissed off.

As you got up, you felt something dripping down your legs. Wonderful, washing Raphael’s cum off the carpet sounded like the perfect start to your morning. You used your blanket to clean yourself (it would be easier to wash later) and dragged yourself to the bathroom.

On your way there, you caught sight of yourself in the mirror and couldn't help but let out an exasperated laugh. The make-up from yesterday was still smeared on your face in dark trails, making you look like a freshly fired and thoroughly fucked racoon.

Sighing, you stepped into the shower and let the warm water wash away Raphael's seed, sweat and the remnants of yesterday's make-up. Oh, you thought as you washed it all away: maybe you should have brought some of Raphael's DNA to study in the lab. Then you would have a solid proof. They also might have found a way to breed powerful cambion super-soldiers.

Anya, why do you always have to think such bullshit? Raphael is from Dungeons & Dragons, not Warhammer.

Your bruises ached even worse under the hot water.

“You know, Raphael”, you spoke to yourself as you wrapped yourself in a towel. “I start to think there might be some issues with our relationship”.

Your phone chimed with a message.

"good morning my lovely girl," it read, instantly piquing your interest.

Oh, wow. Okay, you guys might have some issues, but he is certainly kind of sweet. You were about to pick up your phone to type something as sweet back (good morning my favorite devil?), when another notification popped up.

“Did you know your Raul is one of the richest people in the country??”

Ah, damn. Your mum seemed to be in an excellent mood - why was that?

Probably because “Raul” made it to some mightiest and greatest list.

“I hope the date went well please call love mama god bless 🙏🥰”

As soon as you got yourself dried up, you were scanning the corporate website (last time you checked it when you prepared for an interview); the acquisition news was on the front page. You hastily scanned through the article.

“…was yesterday acquired by Avernus Capital AG, Zürich. The legal aspects of the transaction were handled by the Managing Partner Raul d'Avergni…”

By whom?

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Raphael! So you can remember to get me fired but a condom slips your mind? Does he even know what those are? Has he ever needed to use one?

Ah, now you understand why he hadn’t called for the whole three days. He was working hard on fucking up your life. Screw reigning over the nine hells as the Archdevil Supreme when there's a girl who spent six months after graduation hunting this job (damn this economy) to torment.

Yes, you hated your job, but it paid the bills. Your emergency fund would cover one month expenses, tops. Raphael gave you a thousand over Twitch, that was nice, but that won’t last long either. If you buy plan B and visit a gyno, that’s one hundred less, easy. You can’t ask your mother for any help, either - she could barely make ends meet as it is.

Fine. Breathe in, breathe out. Perhaps he got you fired to offer you a better job; wasn't that what he mentioned yesterday? That’s right. Your work for me is not yet done, he said. That’s it; he has another job and needs all of your free time.

You grabbed your phone to call him to confirm; and then you realized you still did not have his number, all the times he called you (which was exactly one) it was from a no caller ID.

So much for that plan. Fine, the other way, then. You fired up BG3, the save from his Sharess Caress room.

The sight of his avatar and the inviting huge bed behind him stirred a pang of longing in you. "Hey, I miss you," you murmured to the screen, "Could you call me, please?"

“Give me the Crown that dominates the elder brain”, Raphael answered, not a line off the scripted talk.

“I already did that and now you are here. What’s the next task?”.

“A crown for a hammer, a deal of a lifetime”, Raphael ignored you and carried on with his talk with Tav.

The devil didn't toss you any curveballs, no ad-libbed lines or cheeky glances that shattered the fourth wall; just the same old scripted scenarios you'd already seen and played through. You jumped between saves, but nada. Your mum called you three or four times in the meanwhile. You shot her a short message that everything was okay (everything wasn’t), and you’ll call her later.

Next, you scrolled through the missed discord notifications, filled with images and screen caps of Raphael and other Tavs, hundreds of other Tavs, elves, tieflings, humans, a wide gallery of his bloody harem (especially the modded Durges got under your skin) from the new romance scene Larian dropped. You were very tempted to tell them all about your night with Raphael and how it was the best sex you've ever had and on an unrelated note, do all women really die if they give birth to cambions?

But then again, you’ve been called crazy enough lately. Better to delete the whole app.

Who has time to chat in discord? Definitely not people with full-time jobs.

…Right.

In the afternoon, you decide to go to your office in the center of the city to pick up the few things they still had and hand in the things you still had . Company badge, laptop, chargers; three years' work fit into a cardboard box. Your last pay cheque will arrive on Friday, they said.

Thank you for your hard work and dedication, and for making us a euro while we give you a cent and go get lost. Interviewing for them took a whole day; leaving them took half an hour.

The office was half empty; the few who were there were preparing to celebrate the grand occasion of being taken over by Avernus Capital (wouldn’t have happened without you, by the way, and you doubted that the new owner would be that nice). You mumbled a few hellos and how do you dos, but you realised (not that you ever thought otherwise) how little you cared for these people, and how little they cared for you.

The only one you really wanted to talk to you couldn't be reached.

Wait, but Raphael's office was only two underground stations away, you thought. If you can't call, maybe you can pay him a visit and congratulate him in person on his great acquisition.

Raphael's office, a multi-storey eighteenth-century building with the golden letters D'Avergni & Partners plastered all over it, looked very unwelcoming from the outside; inside it had all the warmth of a mausoleum. Dark grey walls loomed around you, somewhere between an art gallery and a prison cell. Art Deco furniture with sharp angles filled the space as floor-to-ceiling windows let in cold shards of light. You were stopped dead at the reception desk.

The receptionist's lips curved into a polite smile as you approached.

She actually seemed nice, not the snotty bombshell type usual at such kinds of places; she had a tired smile and dark bags under her make-up.

"I would like to see Raul d'Avergni," you said, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

She looked at you as if you had entered a church and asked for a personal audience with God. Doubt gnawed at your resolve, but retreating now would be even more awkward.

Some young men, sipping coffee from their plastic cups next to an espresso robot, looked at you curiously through their thick-rimmed glasses.

"Good morning!" chirped the receptionist, regaining her composure. "Do you have an appointment?"

"Ugh, no..." you replied, trying to sound confident. “I'm his (what, what, what?)… his girlfriend, actually”.

Brilliant.

She arched her eyebrows slightly, looking at your "Astarion approves" badge on your rucksack, which had seen quite a bit of action in its life (the summer festivals!), then at your "nique la police" T-shirt. Yes, you didn't give much thought to what you were wearing, but then again, you weren't planning to visit Raphael when you came here.

The receptionist did her best to remain professional, but you could sense that she was very doubtful about your statement.

"I am afraid Mr. d'Avergni is in meetings all day today," she offered with an apologetic smile. "Perhaps you could try calling him if it is a private matter?"

Yeah, great idea. Your cheeks flushed as embarrassment washed over you. Of course his girlfriend would have his number.

"You do have his private number, don't you?" she continued, her smile unwavering.

Now you felt like a complete idiot. The girl was obviously too tired to make fun of you, but the stares and whispered giggles of the posh idiots behind your back were not nice.

“Sure I do," you blurted out. "Just still couldn't reach him for some reason and it’s pretty urgent. Anyway, just let Raul know I stopped by. My name is Anya. Anya Berger."

"Of course," she replied in that 'not-a-chance' tone. "Have a nice day, Mrs Berger."

You retreated with your dignity in tatters and headed for the exit. What on earth possessed you to come here? You could have just as easily gone to the Microsoft headquarters and said you brought Bill Gates some home-made pancakes, and by the way, where was he?

Fuck.

As you made your way out, you heard the young man with framed glasses murmur to his coworker, "Such bullshit." You couldn't help but eavesdrop. "I've seen the birds Raul brings to the parties and they are top-notch. Not some..."

You stopped in your tracks. Normally, you were not the scandalous type (you were a people pleaser, if anything), but if the world wanted to treat you like a doormat, you would at least bark back.

“Not some what?”, you asked before he would finish the sentence.

"Oh, my apologies, miss. I wasn't talking to you. It was just a conversation with my colleague," he responded with a saccharine smile. All these guys sported slicked-back hairdos, boxy glasses and Patagonia vests. Your socks had more personality than these fucks.

“You were talking about me, you Patrick Bateman knock-off. So, what did you want to say?”

His faux-polite smile vanished in an instant.

"Wow, okay”, the guy sneered. “What did I want to say? In a completely unrelated conversation, I wanted to say that giving a drunk blowjob on a Tuesday night doesn't make someone anyone's girlfriend."

“You know what he will do with you if I ask him to?”, you said, your fists clenched.

You did realise how much of a cunt you sounded, but Raphael burned a guy’s mouth for calling him a two pump chump; surely he can burn this guy for being a jerk to you, too.

There should be some benefit in being Devil’s special little mouse, right?

The guy just scoffed at your threat, small drops of coffee landing on your face. His coworker looked embarrassed and quickly looked away.

"Oh, I don't know," the guy retorted, "Why don't you call Mr. d'Avergni and ask him to fire me? Oh wait… do you really have his number?"

You couldn't come up with a clever response, so your anger gave you a bad one.

“I hope a damn bus runs you over”, you grumbled under your breath.

For a split second, you found yourself hoping that very scenario would unfold. That some rogue city bus would burst through the wall and flatten him. Once wasn’t enough; it’d reverse and do it again for good measure.

Alas, no such luck.

The security at the door started to pay attention, but you didn't want to cause any more of a scene.

You chose to rise above (not that you had any choice) and strutted away.

"Mr. d’Avergni is not going to call you back, nut job," the guy called after you. "He's way out of your league."

Your fingers clenched around the straps of your rucksack, knuckles white as you retreated.

The moment you left the posh building behind, you felt terrible. In an attempt to make yourself feel a little better, you grabbed a subway sandwich with some extra ham and a sugar bomb coffee from Starbucks, but it did nothing to improve your mood. You found a spot on the steps of the library and sat down to eat and brood everything over.

Let's look at the cold, hard facts. You lost your job, that's one thing. You might be pregnant with a devil's spawn that'll tear you apart on its way out, that's two. You've only saved enough money to get by, that's three. And on top of that, some yuppie jerk ridiculed you.

That's four. On the plus side... on the plus side...

Well, you had the best sex of your life last night (by a large, large margin). Just thinking about that orgasm made you dizzy. And that kiss. His lips. His hazel eyes. The way Raphael looked in a waistcoat with a cigar. The way he looked at you.

…yeah.

You stared into the distance, catching the outline of a Catholic cathedral out of the corner of your eye. A thought occurred to you then; Raphael had been so irked by your cross. Going to an actual church will probably make Raphael jealous of the other Big Guy with the magical powers (even though he hadn’t demonstrated them for at least some centuries) that he might actually come out and talk to you.

You wolfed down the rest of the sandwich and got up.

The cathedral door, huge, twice your size, seemed to be closed. In the old days, you would have just walked away; it was clear you weren't welcome. But now, with all the rules and logic thrown out the window, you pushed against it and, lo and behold, it did open for you.

At first glance, the cathedral seemed devoid of life. There is something utterly captivating about an empty cathedral, as there is about all things that are not supposed to be empty. It was a beautiful church; no doubt about that. Obscenely rich, too, gold gilded altars and towering stained glass windows that painted kaleidoscopic patterns on cold marble floors. Marble statues of angels stood sentinel along the walls. Why do they always have these judgemental looks on their faces? Sinner, sinner, sinner.

I am; so fuck off.

Far richer than any church should be, and yet the first humble wooden box that caught your eye was "DONATIONS WELCOME".

As you navigated towards the altar (a good half-minute journey across the vast nave), you discovered you weren't alone after all; an elderly pastor dozed in his throne-like chair and a choirboy leafed through sheet music by the monstrous organ pipes.

"Lord Almighty," the pastor creaked as he looked at you. "How did you get in?"

"The door?" you said, gesturing behind you.

He blinked twice.

"I was sure I had locked it. Oh, my memory. Getting old is no fun, child, I can tell you that."

The pastor was one of the types desperately trying to pass themselves off as your friend.

"Should I go or..." you asked, not really wanting to go anywhere.

The moment you stepped through the door of the church, you felt like you were crossing worlds again; the mundane real world was behind the door, and the world where interesting things happened was right there.

"Or no... Please stay," said the priest. "If you're here, it must be God's will. We don't turn anyone away. It's not like we've had many newcomers lately."

That might have something to do with being kid fiddlers, you thought, looking at the choirboy in the white and red outfit - fourteen, fifteen at the most - but you said nothing and came closer.

"And what brings you to the house of God, my child?" The priest's smile was warm and inviting. "Would you like to make a confession?"

No, no, absolutely not.

“Or, no”, you chuckled nervously. “No, Father, I wanted…”

(to piss off the devil by coming to the church)

“I wanted…to ask you… I wanted to ask you about the devils.”

The choir boy looked up in interest.

“I wanted…to ask you… I wanted to ask you about the devils.”

The choir boy looked up in interest.

"The devils?" the pastor asked incredulously, rubbing the dust off his glasses. "There is but one; you probably mean demons. What about them?"

"Just, ugh... Say, I am haunted by one. Ah, no, you are haunted by ghosts; possessed, then. What would be the procedure?"

You didn't really know what you were asking for. You didn't really believe that there was a step-by-step guide to getting rid of a devil in your bed, especially if you invited him, especially if you liked him very much.

The priest put his hand on his belly and laughed, the old wheezing laugh of a man with a heart condition. God, it smelt like incense in here; such a suffocating smell, as if it was meant to dull any common sense.

"My child," he said, putting a fatherly hand on your shoulder. "The Church may have its doctrines, but the idea of demons is simply a metaphor. A representation of our transgressions, our weaknesses."

He laughed a little more and then told you very gently, carefully, as if you were mentally deficient:

"Demons are not real. They are metaphors, allegories".

Having heard all your life that the Devil is watching, the Devil is waiting, and now all of sudden he is not real, and you were pretty sure he had fucked you raw yesterday.

Very helpful, Father. You suddenly felt an urge to bring forth the Antichrist just to spite the entire Catholic Church.

The cathedral door groaned in protest as it swung open once more. You looked over your shoulder.

The man entering the cathedral was the last person who should be treading on consecrated ground.

"Then who the hell is that, Father?" you muttered under your breath.

"Oh, my dear friend!" replied the priest with the broadest of smiles. "What a joy to see you!”

Raphael's attire was nearly identical to the first time you saw him in the cafe: a three-piece suit with a subtle shift in color, now a deep navy. A bit of a dated look of a wheeler and dealer in smoke-filled rooms; something very much “Mad Men” about him.

"Darling, you claimed not to be religious," Raphael smiled at you as he approached and gave you a light kiss on the cheek. "But look where I find you."

"Well, you're also the last person I would expect to see in a church," you replied.

"Why is that?” The priest asked. “This man has done more for the Church than any other, my dear child!"

They embraced, the priest and the businessman, like good old friends. Well, you always knew that the Church was in cahoots with the Devil, but not so literally. You shook your head at the hypocrisy of the Church, Raphael, and the way things were done in general.

"You exaggerate, Flavio," said Raphael. "Besides, it's my pleasure and duty to contribute to my community. I assume you've already met, but let me introduce you anyway - Anya, my paramour".

Raphael gestured to you. Better tell your colleagues that, you thought, since they doubted it so much. He should also find this guy in the glasses, introduce you to him and then fire him immediately (and have him run over by a bus while he was on his way to collect his things). In fact, that was now your main requirement for staying his little mouse.

"Blessed be, I'm ecstatic for you both," the priest gushed, barely containing his excitement. "Praise the Lord that you are finally doing better, Raul. It's about time..."

Raphael gave him a very cold smile and interrupted with a slight raise of his hand.

“Dimmi, hai preparato i documenti che ti ho chiesto? Il fisco sta facendo dellle indagini”.

"Haha!” the priest laughed. “La tua ragazza è venuta a chiedermi dei diavoli, forse avrei dovuto indicarle l'ufficio delle imposte".

Their conversation dove into rapid Italian, leaving you in the dust. It was rude but precisely their intention. Your attention wandered from them and across the hauntingly beautiful church interior, finally resting on the choir boy standing in the shadows.

He looked very pale. The poor guy was scared, scared shitless. His lips moved soundlessly; words stuck in his throat like swallowed stones. Tracing his petrified stare, your own eyes landed on the towering wall of the church.

The shadow Raphael was casting was not human; wings unfurled from its back and double horns crowned its head. It looked both eerie and beautiful in the soft candlelight. A part of you admired it for its artistic potential; this could be inspiration for some haunting fanart.

Wait a second.

“Do you see it too?” You mouthed silently to the choir boy who nodded frantically, sweat on his forehead.

A surge of relief washed over you - finally someone else shared your madness. But before you could reach out to him, he darted away into the ink-black abyss of the back room. Raphael's touch on your hand halted any thought of following him.

“Ah, pay him no heed,” dismissed the priest nonchalantly. “The boy’s mind is somewhat...disturbed.” He quickly clarified with an awkward laugh: “Not that we judge here – all are welcome under God's roof.”

Even the Devil himself, it seemed.

Your gaze returned to Raphael and then flickered towards the pastor; he either couldn't see or chose to ignore the monstrous shadow of his parishioner.

Or perhaps, he did see it and was merely delighted to meet his true master.

"Take all the time you need, Flavio," Raphael said, his hand dismissive as he sent the pastor scurrying. "We're in no rush."

The priest melted into the shadows of a side corridor, leaving you alone with the Devil in God's house. If Raphael nudged you back just a fraction more, your body would be flush against the cold stone altar.

You found the idea very intriguing.

"Our little escapade last night was quite... memorable, wouldn't you agree?" His fingertips traced a path along your cheekbone. "Did you come here seeking salvation from your sins?"

"Sins? No," you replied coyly. "There are other things that trouble me... Like how I lost my job because of you."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “And how exactly did I manage such a feat?"

"Well, my company was acquired by yours and I was restructured away."

A slight frown creased his brow as he considered this. "So, you were employed by Tenebris? That is an unfortunate twist of fate." He paused before continuing, "Did you enjoy working for them?"

"Not particularly," you admitted, "but it paid my bills and kept me fed."

He smiled, his touch lingering on your skin. "And what price tag did they put on keeping you pliant?"

"Two thousand two hundred euros net”.

And sixty euros. Plus a free travel pass and a discount at a gym you never went to. Plus a yearly bonus!

This revelation seemed to snap him out of his trance-like admiration of you.

"A month?" His tone held an edge of horror and for once, it felt good to see him rattled.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. His gaze was filled with genuine sympathy. It wasn't such a terrible salary - it was above the country's average after all!

"I see," he murmured. "This explains your living situation. My dear Anya, don't let anyone under-value you; your time is worth far more than that. As for your current predicament - and I confess to having contributed to it - I will make amends."

With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a plain leather wallet. You couldn't resist taking a look yourself; there was a government ID card, a driver's licence and several other cards you couldn't identify. He pulled out a sleek black credit card and handed it over.

"I'll let my banker know you're authorized," he said. “He will contact you with regards to security details”.

"No, no, that's not what I meant," you quickly interjected, pride sparking in your chest. "I can fend for myself."

"Don’t you ever say no to me," Raphael warned with a playful edge to his voice as he pulled you closer into his arms. "It won't end well."

His jesting tone didn't quite mask the threat in his words, but you couldn't help but grin. Whatever he says, the very way he says it is just so nice.

"I'd rather have a job," you said, not sure if you were actually that eager to get back into the corporate grind.

"Then I shall arrange one for you," he grinned. "A prestigious position under a very demanding superior. It will keep you very, very occupied."

You were pretty sure that position was not what you went to college for. Then again, didn't he say yesterday that he had a job for you?

"Consider it limitless," Raphael added nonchalantly while your fingers traced the cool metal of the credit card. "If you manage to find its limit, consider me thoroughly impressed."

Did he want you to splash out on new clothes and the like? But there were more pressing matters at hand. Your mum had just cleared her towering credit card debt and was in need of some expensive dental work. The local cat shelter was on the brink of closure and rent was due.

"I actually wanted to help my mum out a bit, if that's okay, she's, ugh"... you started, rolling the credit card in your hands.

"Anya," Raphael interrupted sternly. "You shall have whatever you wish for.”

You nodded and looked into his eyes, remembering the pleasure of lying under him yesterday and how much you wanted to do so again.

"About last night," you said. "Should I take the morning-after pill..."

Raphael shook his head in disbelief.

"You Catholic girls... No need for that considering our activities last night, but even if there was...I've always envisioned having a family but never found the right woman."

It's such a stupid cliché, you thought, as your stomach fluttered and you let him lean in for a kiss.

But maybe. Just maybe. Maybe he really meant it. He had such a horrible life in hell. Maybe you were the first one…

…the actual first one, the one…

Right . You still don't want to die in childbirth, however flattering Raphael’s words might be. If you pay for Plan B with his credit card, will he see it? Nah, better use your own.

"...right," you murmured against his mouth, then remembered what else was bothering you. "And could you please tell your colleagues that we are together?".

Were you even together, you wondered in sudden fear, but Raphael nodded:

"I'll make it very much known, if that's what you wish for."

Your heart pounded in agreement. The more people knew, the more tangible it felt.

As Raphael's lips melted against yours, you glanced at his shadow on the wall and smiled; he must have thought you were looking at the confessional, for apparently the horned outline of his own shadow was not bizarre to him.

"Would you like to confess? I could absolve you of all sins" Raphael whispered in your ear, his hand slowly but surely tracing the full curve of your arse, still sore from his tail-whipping. "I am afraid you have to commit them first, though”.

He gave it a light squeeze and you yelped; he seemed to revel in the sound.

"We're in the sacred house," you blushed, squirming under his very bold advances and enjoying them very much.

"Indeed we are," Raphael concurred, his hands yanking you into the shadowy Catholic confessional, shoving you in first. The image of him cloaked in his holy robes flashed in your mind and a giggle bubbled up at the sheer audacity of it all. “What better place for blasphemy?”

The cabin was barely big enough for the two of you, dimly lit and very narrow; meant for one person only, the other chamber remained empty, separated only by a small window. The smell of old wood and incense filled your nostrils as he closed the door behind you.

The last time you went to confession, you were a teenager and the priest was so old and ugly that no dirty thoughts crossed your mind; but now you suddenly realised that there was no hotter place on earth.

Raphael's lips brushed your earlobe, his stubble against your cheek, "Kneel before me," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "Show me how remorseful you are for cavorting with the Devil."

You weren’t sorry.

Not one bit.

Without hesitation or second thoughts, just like you had before the chair yesterday, you sank to your knees in front of him. Something told you that this will become a familiar position for you in the days to come.

The moment your face was against his groin, Raphael undid his pants. His cock sprang out, large, reddish and throbbing; even better than you had imagined. You couldn't help but wrap your hands around it, almost in disbelief that this thing was so real and so eager for your mouth. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and you licked it off, savouring the salty and musky taste.

Raphael gasped above you, his body tense with pure lust. Your thighs clench together in excitement and you feel the soaked panties stick to your pussy as you feel him guide your head towards his cock.

“Repent, you little sinner”, Raphael muttered, his voice thick with lust. "Plead for your redemption."

Judging by his state, he should be the one pleading.

You teased him with slow, deliberate licks, the tip of your tongue tracing his frenulum up and down (he loved it). You nuzzled your cheek against his rigid shaft, a purr of satisfaction escaping your lips as you lavished it with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Each vein was a roadmap for you to follow, every inch of his cock kissed and licked with a fervour that bordered on reverence.

"Enough," he said. "I want to see the depth of your remorse".

Your tongue slid over the top of his head and your lips followed, parting as you slowly took him into your mouth. Raphael moaned and you echoed him, your voice pulsing against his shaft, the church walls echoing the unholy litany. You sucked his cock greedily, desperately, drawing him into a warm, needy vacuum, and the harder you tried, the wetter you became.

You wanted to give Raphael the blowjob of his millennium; you gave everything to serve him, saliva slicking down his shaft, down your chin, down your t-shirt, as every muscle in your mouth worked hard for his pleasure. The world around blurred into nothingness; all you could focus on was the dark thatch of hair framing his groin and the rhythmic motion of his cock sliding in and out of you.

No one ever wanted to suck him off as much as you did, as deep and sloppy and messy as you did. You liked the scent of him, the taste of him, the feeling of him, the sound of him; everything about him; you’d love to suck him dry.

“Keep going”, Raphael let out a moan of such desperate pleasure it could be pain. "Dare to stop and I promise you'll taste hellfire."

As if you had any intention of stopping; this was an act of worship you could perform for eternity.

You glanced up; he was sweated, chestnut locks clinging to his forehead, the flickering candlelight casting dancing shadows across his face, and you felt more powerful than ever in your life. He tugged his necktie loose and opened the collar, his breathing coming out harsh and shallow. He was at your mercy; at the mercy of your tongue and throat.

Raphael bucked his hips, desperate to thrust in your mouth, and you let him take control; let him grab and hold your head while you simply hang in his grip, pliant and passive, as his cock jerked in and out. He went at it with such ferocity as if he hadn’t fucked for months; which you very well knew not to be true.

Gag reflex kicked in, your body threatening to revolt, and you repressed it with all the will you had, tears gathering in your eyes, and with each move of his hips it became more and more challenging. Thankfully, his bucking became more desperate; your mouth clamped down harder around his cock, and you let your tongue run up and down his shaft.

You felt hot jets of liquid gush against your throat as Raphael cried out, his body shivered and he leaned forward as he came, and you felt stupid happy. A larger bit of his cum dribbled straight down your throat, the rest pooled in your mouth around his cock.

“Swallow”, Raphael said, his voice deeper, rougher now. "Take all of me."

He was not going to pull out, not until every drop of him was inside you, so you made two very deliberate gulps, rolling the slight bitterness of his release on your tongue before you swallowed it all down.

Then you looked up at him like a starving animal - hungry for more. Your fingers carefully gathered the stray droplets of his cum and you greedily licked them off. As a final gesture, you kissed the tip of his cock, to which he cursed under his breath; something in Italian; whichever it was, it sounded hot.

You grinned, licking your lips, so proud of yourself.

"You are divine," Raphael said as he pulled you up by your hair, pressing you hard against the confessional wall before claiming your lips in a rough kiss – tasting himself on them. "Divine. You are a treasure. I cannot believe my own luck. I cannot believe…”

In that moment, if he had told you he loved you, you would have believed him without hesitation.These very words were on the tip of your tongue but you chose to channel it all into the kiss.

The priest's footsteps echoed through the church, amplified by the silence.

"Li ho presi," he happily announced.

Raphael hastily adjusted his clothing, looking genuinely embarrassed for a brief moment. The two of you stumbled out of the confessional, not exactly gracefully.

From the pastor's expression, you could tell he understood what had happened between you and Raphael in the confessional. Your faces were flushed and your hair was disheveled from his hands tugging and pulling on it. Your damp chin, which you hastily wiped with your sleeve, only made things more obvious.

“...Raul," Flavio chided with a tone heavy with disapproval. "I still hope to wed you in this very church, but you're making it exceedingly difficult."

His eyes didn’t even glance at you; apparently, any attempt at salvation or reprimand was wasted on you now.

"I donate millions to this church,” Raphael retorted dismissively, dusting off imaginary lint from his shoulders. "If you want others to overlook certain things, you should be prepared to do the same."

The Father raised an eyebrow but said nothing as he handed over some documents to Raphael.

With that, the audience was over.

The angel statues glared down at you with undisguised contempt; particularly the one clutching a sword. That’s exactly why people turn to devils, you judgemental winged pricks on high horses, you thought. You rolled the aftertaste of devil's cum on your tongue and thought that going to heaven was definitely not in your near future.

Exiting the church, you were met by two armed men standing guard at the doors. For a moment, you thought you were being apprehended for lewd conduct in public. Raphael's security, you realized.. Of course he had security. Both looked like dark, looming, emotionless twin shadows. What were they really? Cambions? Orthons? Surely no one could truly harm him?

You clutched closer to Raphael, his lips brushing your forehead as he attended another phone call.

“Mamma mia,” he blurted out mere moments after he picked up, and a chuckle escaped you at how stereotypically Italian he sounded. You hadn't realized that was an actual phrase they used. His furrowed brows and concerned tone quickly sobered up the mood though, "What happened? Where? Was it on Main Street?"

He looked genuinely troubled and you offered silent comfort by intertwining your fingers with his. He responded with a reassuring squeeze.

“One of my juniors got into a...”, he told you as soon as he had hung up. “Into some macabre road accident”.

Hit by a bus, you realized with a jolt but kept your silence.

You had to witness it yourself.

Without a word, you followed Raphael to the crash scene, the wailing sirens of fire trucks and ambulances echoing in your ears. Security trailed along behind, all of you making your way through the gathering crowd.

The sight that greeted you was both mundane and horrifying, in a way that only real life could be. The bus stood askew, its once deep blue body now painted with crimson streaks. And there, on the cold pavement, was...splattered…what was left of a person.

"I don't know what happened," an older Asian man sobbed nearby, his words falling on deaf ears. "I swear I've been driving this thing for twenty years, I swear I was not drunk..."

The policewoman stood tall and stern above him, her arms crossed in a way that made it clear she had already formed her judgement. Some other kind soul actually offered him an anti-shock blanket. Some less kind souls were taking pictures of their phones. News reports were arriving, too.

This poor man probably had a family to support. What would happen to him now?

You could handle all the exaggerated violence and gore on television, but you absolutely could not watch the man sprawled out on the pavement in real life; or at least what was left of him. It reminded you of the cherry pudding from the evening before. You could see his broken glasses scattered haphazardly on the ground and tears welled up in your eyes.

He was a jerk, sure, but he was also mortal, like you. Now he lay dead, wrapped in plastic sheets, and it could have easily been you.

Where was he now? Did Raphael claim his soul?

Did you cause his death?

You didn't mean for it to happen. Well, maybe you did, but...

“Don’t look, piccola,” Raphael murmured in your ear, his hand shielding your eyes. “You fainted over a cherry pudding once; this is by far worse. Damn it! My youngest and most promising. Just twenty-seven years old and newly engaged. An absolute tragedy.”

The same age as you.

"I'm sorry... he was so rude to me," you choked out between sobs. "I didn't think..."

“Anya, please, it's none of your fault,” Raphael’s voice softened. “Just the cruelty of fate; an accident. We cannot be held responsible for such misfortunes”.

“No?”, you asked with a faint hope.

You were not a bad person, even if you were fucking the devil; in fact, you were going to splurge his credit card on all the animal shelters and children battling cancer to make up for what you had just did. You were not a bad person.

You were not a murderer, no, no, no.

“No,” he repeated and then a slight smile, completely inappropriate to the moment, touched his lips. “Except when very much are responsible; unless we made it happen.”

Raphael’s words made you flinch slightly but he maintained his hold on you.

Yeah, well, you did that, you wanted to say, I did nothing, I only wished for it.

“The driver must have been under the influence,” he continued . “I cannot conceive any other reason for running over a pedestrian at a red light.”

You breathed out. The air was thick with the smell of gasoline, burned rubber and the scent of blood; metallic smell of death.

“Oh, you look rattled, poor thing, look at those tears”, he cooed and offered you a handkerchief with his initials on it. “Anya, love, my apologies, but I have to attend to this immediately. There’s going to be press, rumors that we work people to death that’s why he was not looking around. I need to be there for my company”.

For the company?

“…And for his family, of course”, Raphael added as if reading your thoughts. “That’s his fiance over there, I suppose. Oh, take her away, you morons…”

There she was, the woman in a suit, wailing like a banshee, as somebody tried to hold her close and hug her. What she had seen just now she would never, ever forget.

Raphael held both your shoulders and rotated you to face him.

“You.. you know what? Go shopping, distract yourself a bit. Then call my driver to take you to my place. We'll spend the evening together”.

His words were met with a hollow nod from your side. You cast another side glance at the accident, and he gently turned your face towards him again.

"And learn when to look away," Raphael murmured, punctuating his advice with a soft kiss on your lips, "It's an essential survival skill."

#bg3 raphael #bg3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #fanfic #raphael x tav #raphael x player #raphael x reader #meta

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fatfuckingcatstuff · 17 hours

Note

Babe.

Babe i need platonic reader with the mercs

Them reacting/helping reader get out of sh (Ignor if it makes you uncomfortable)

I just need some motivation to stop burning myself

Pick you fav mercs and maybe gn reader so more folks can enjoy

Luv your work btw <3

Of course you can! And I hope your recovery journey goes well! Sorry it this isn't exactly what you had hoped for but either way I hope you enjoy it.

Medic

- Medic is proud of you for seeking help. He noticed the bandages and, with genuine concern, asked if you wanted to talk. He knows how important it is to have someone listen.

- In his office, he listens without judgment as you open up about your struggles. Medic then suggests regular check-ins, encouraging you to reach out whenever you feel overwhelmed. "You are stronger than you realize, mein freund . There are other ways to cope like harming someone else other than yourself! Remember, my door is always open."

"Oh okay wow thanks medic."

"no worries mein freund :)"

- He offers resources like books on mental health and teaches you stress relief techniques. Medic even shares some basic medical knowledge, so you can better understand your body and how to care for it. He’s always there for you, providing unwavering support.

"Would you like me to help remove those thoughts of yours?"

"you are not going anywhere near my brain."

Spy

- Spy, ever observant, sees the subtle signs of your struggle. He'd brush it off aside during the day but find himself wanting a chat with you alone.

- He'd take you to his smoking room using this private moment to discuss serious matters. "Tell me ma fleur. What's on your mind?"

As you pour your heart out of your struggles and how you've been slowly trying to heal he listens with intent.

"Mon ami, we all have our demons. What matters is how we face them. You have the strength to overcome this, and I will be here to help you every step of the way."

- Spy keeps a watchful eye on you from a distance, ensuring you’re never alone in your vulnerable moments. He wants you to know you can always rely on him for support. Hell he'd start getting noticeably closer to you.

Demoman

- Demoman is proud of you for opening up. He brings it up casually, noticing your reluctance to show your arms. With genuine concern, he gently prods and listens.

"Aye I hear ye lassie/laddie"

- He shares his own struggles, making you feel less isolated and more understood. I feel as though he would occasionally offer a bottle or 2 of scrumpy to *help* in which you would always refuse but thank him.

- He regularly checks in on you, using humor and camaraderie to lighten your mood and make sure you’re doing alright.

"Ye know, we all got our battles. But ye don't have to fight 'em alone. Anytime ye feel down, just come find me. We'll have a laugh, aye?"

Pyro

They notice your distress through your body language and offer comfort without words. Pyro sits beside you, offering his toys and gadgets to play around with to distract your mind from the simple idea of harming yourself.

"Mmphhshs mpyymph mpthhh mthjs mppjdhh"

"Thank you pyro"

- They introduce you to creative activities like painting or building crafts, helping you channel your emotions into art. Pyro’s presence becomes a comforting constant.

- Pyro ensures you always have a safe space to retreat to, filled with comforting and familiar items to help ground you during tough times.

Sniper

- Sniper would be a little taken aback I feel. Sure he had noticed your change in behavior but he wasn't really expecting it.

- He invites you to his perch, sharing the tranquility of the outdoors. Sniper opens up about his own ways of dealing with isolation and stress, teaching you about the calming effects of nature. "It's alright, mate. Sometimes, getting out here and away from it all helps clear the mind. Whenever you need to talk or just want some company, you know where to find me."

- He takes you on walks, introducing you to nature therapy. Mundy would provide steady, reliable support, always there for late-night talks and his presence if you ever need him. He wants you to know you have someone who cares.

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lizhaoyu · 2 days

Note

OMD THE TEA??? TAG ME IN PT 3 PLSPLS 🙏

Why so shy? PART 3

(A/N: Hello, gaymers. I don't know why you guys are shipping Iso x Clove and Iso x Gekko or Iso x Deadlock when you guys should CLEARLY ship ME WITH HIM instead. Anyway, I already wrote parts 3 and 4 in advance, I just forgor. Enjoy thirsting, gaymers.)

(WARNINGS: OOC Omen)

(GN!Reader x Iso) Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (You are here.)

Nervous.

That was no longer what you were feeling right now.

You were too busy running away from the medical ward and back to the privacy of your room.

Maybe it isn't Iso. Maybe it was you. Maybe it was your fault for getting ahead of yourself. Maybe it was your fault for assuming that Iso liked you in the same way that you do.

Maybe you shouldn't have gotten your hopes up.

You stop in front of your door, panting heavily. You had to prevent your tears from falling out of your eyes, especially outside of your room.

Your eyes slowly started blurring from the tears as you tried to pry open your door.

notnownotnownotnownotnow, your mind raced.

You successfully unlocked your door and stumble inside.

Finally, you're alone, just as you always were. You let the tears fall from your eyes, staining your cheeks and clothes.

You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up. Maybe then, you wouldn't be crying, you wouldn't be in pain, you wouldn't be in this situation—

A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts.

You immediately wiped your tears away and sucked everything up, before approaching your door.

"W-Who is it?" You ask through the door, trying your best to sound like you weren't crying.

"It's me, Omen." Omen's gruff voice was muffled from the outside.

You sniffle, slowly getting up and opening the door slightly, enough for you to peek out and see Omen.

"Hey, Omen... Do you need something?" You ask, albeit a little too quiet for your liking.

"Greetings," Omen nods.

"I've noticed that the atmosphere around the HQ seems a little darker than usual," Omen's 'eyes', which were just three slits, moved as he spoke.

"The shadows also seem a little unstable." Omen continued.

"I've already checked up on Fade, and she is in great condition. You however..." Omen paused, 'looking' at your eyes intently.

"I came to check in on you. The hallway leading here was especially dark, and it felt heavy." Omen nods.

"Oh- No, I'm okay, Omen. It must be someone else's ability...?" You reason, although you were bad at lying.

"But you are the only one with shadow-related abilities in this hallway." Omen tilts his head. If Omen had a real, human face, you'd probably see a very unimpressed expression on it.

"Well, shit." You sigh.

"I am your mentor. You can tell me," Omen paused.

"Though I may not understand nor offer any help, I am here." Omen continued.

is it just me or Omen is so very OOC rn lol, you thought.

"...Come in." You sigh, sliding the door open wider, wide enough for Omen to come in.

"Thank you." Omen nods, walking in your room.

You slide the door shut and turn to Omen, who took a seat on your desk chair. You were comfortable enough around Omen, as he was your mentor and your very first friend in the VP.

"It feels even heavier here," Omen breaks the silence.

"I take it that your problem must be even heavier on you." Omen turns to you as you sat down on you bed.

"It's just like what I have told you in the past. Your emotions affect your abilities greatly," Omen nods, clasping his hands together.

"Take Neon or Reyna for example." Omen continued.

"To lift the heavy energy emanating from your abilities, you must let out your emotions; Talk to someone." Omen nods.

"Or like how Reyna does it: Take it out on others." Omen visibly sighed, but no sound of it comes.

"However, I know that you are better than that. So, let's discuss what you are feeling," Omen 'glanced' at you.

"I... I don't know if you'll understand, Omen. It's... about love." You sigh.

this is so cringe bruh who even says its about love bro, you thought.

"I do not expect myself to understand, either. I am not profound in the topic of love," Omen shook his head.

"But I will listen." Omen continued.

"Communication is key, either you tell them, or you tell me. Either works fine," Omen looked around your room

damn bro when did omen suddenly know about love and communication bro im cooked, you thought.

But confessing to Iso? Hell no. You're already hurt by the current situation, you'd be stupid to confess and expect a different outcome.

"It's... about Iso." You sigh, rubbing the back of your head in hesitation.

"The new recruit? I see," Omen nods.

"I've... been interested in him ever since he first arrived," You sigh, averting your gaze.

"I thought I was making progress; That if I pursue him and show him that I like him, he'd feel the same way." You murmur, eyes locked onto your fingers.

"He was starting to say things that might mean something more, in a more than friends way." You say, recalling the things that have happened a few hours earlier.

"It even went as far as him asking me to go out and get some food," You lower your head.

"But I was stupid. I got ahead of myself." Tears started welling in your eyes.

"I started assuming that he liked me back; That he felt the same way." You stifle back a sob.

"So, it was really painful when I heard him asking Sage out on a date," You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

"It was my fault for assuming that he likes me too." You held your hands to your face.

"...I see." Omen nods quietly.

"You can't have everything you want," Omen starts.

"And it's not that easy." Omen shook his head.

"But you have to understand that maybe Sage and Iso have a lot more things in common that you and him," Omen explained.

"Or what maybe Iso likes Sage more, maybe he's had his eye on her since he came." Omen nods

You could feel your heart breaking, slowly shattering into pieces.

"But I'm not saying that to hurt you," Omen shook his head.

"I am opening your eyes to see the truth; To see that you're not the only one for Iso." Omen continued.

"You're not the only one who may have an interest on Iso," Omen shook his head, 'looking' at you.

"Not everyone wins, and you must learn how to accept that; That Iso likes Sage and not you." Omen's words sent a pang of pain in your through your heart.

not you. notyounotyounotyounotyounotyounot-

"The shadows are suffocating." Omen says, snapping you out of your trance.

"I'm sorry, Omen." You sigh.

"Acceptance. Learn to accept it." Omen looked at the closed curtains of your window.

Maybe this was for the best. If Iso wanted to be with Sage, who were you to oppose that? You're just a friend.

Everything was just a friendly gesture.

"I understand. I know better now," You took a deep breath.

"Thank you so much, Omen." You smile softly, drying your tears.

"Do you really know better now?" Omen asks.

"I do, thanks to you. I'm really grateful for that." You nod.

"It's good that you're still learning from my words." Omen nods, standing up from his seat.

"You're the best mentor I could ever ask for, Omen. I'm always learning from you." You smile at him, also standing up.

You walk with Omen to the door, sliding it open for him..

"I expect only the best from you. Don't let this weigh you down." Omen nods, walking out of your room.

You slid the door shut as Omen left your room.

Omen's right. Even if you thought that Omen was a little too out of character earlier, whatever he said was right.

You sigh and walk to your desk, before noticing a little purple octopus gun buddy on the chair that Omen said on.

Omen must've left it on accident. You took it into your hands and headed for the door to chase after Omen.

You slide the door open and wow. Reality and fate must really enjoy hardfucking you in every single angle, huh?

In front of the open door of your room, outside the hallway was Iso with a small smile on his face.

"There you are." Iso smiles, taking out one earbud off of his ear.

whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck, you thought.

"Are you ready to go?" Iso asks.

go where? to heaven? yes im so fucking ready, you thought.

"Uh... huh?" You murmur.

"Did you forget? We're going out for hotpot, remember?" Iso chuckles.

"Oh, right," You avert your gaze.

I FUCKING FORGOT, you thought.

How were you gonna do this? You can't face Iso now.

"Is something wrong? You promised that we'd still go despite my injury," Iso tilts his head.

well shit it might be my fault for promising, you thought.

"I wanted to thank you for healing and saving me." Iso smiles, nodding.

"Right..." You nod hesitantly.

"So, are you ready?" Iso asked.

"Um, yeah." You step out of your room, sliding the door close behind you.

"Nice. Hm?" Iso smiles, then looks at your open palm.

"What's that?" Iso asks, gesturing to the octopus gun buddy.

"Oh... This is Omen's gun buddy. He must've forgotten about it and left it in my room." You show him the gun buddy.

"I was gonna return it to him, but maybe in another time." You shook your head, pocketing the gun buddy.

"Anyway, where are we headed?" You look at him.

"I know this hotpot place in the city. It's not that famous and crowded, so we can chill while eating," Iso smiles, pocketing his phone.

"I mean, we could just buy ingredients for hotpot and make it here, like what me and Sage did..." Iso paused.

Your ears rang. Sage again.

"But since it's gonna be about thanking you. I want it to be extra special." Iso smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

Your heart started beating faster.

No. Remember what Omen said. Don't get ahead of yourself.

Your mind was blank, trying to block out any thought.

"There's a mall near the hotpot place. We could go there if you'd like." Iso smiles.

Why's he acting like he has so much time? Doesn't he have a date with Sage?

Shut up. That's none of your business.

"Let's head to the city." Iso smiles, nodding his head.

You and Iso arrive at the bustling streets of the city. You looked around, observing the food stalls. Some were colorful, some were simple and bland.

Maybe going out with Iso to the city isn't so bad. It could take your mind off of things.

"What kind of food do you like?" Iso asked, walking with you through the bustling street.

"I don't really mind anything, nothing specific." You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders.

"What about flowers?" Iso asked.

Why's he asking that?

"Well, I've never really received flowers, soo... I don't think I have anything I prefer in mind." You shook your head again.

"Do you like lilacs?" Iso asked, question after question.

"I'm sorry if I'm asking too many questions." Iso smiles sheepishly.

"It's okay," You smile, shaking your head AGAIN. STOP SHAKING YOUR HEAD BRUH

This is just him getting to know you in a friendly way.

"Lilacs... I think lilacs are beautiful. Back in my college years, I used to research about lilacs." You hum.

"They have a lot of meaning to them. I think I'm confident that I love lilacs," You nod.

"Lilacs are related to your title, right?" You ask.

"Mm, yeah." Iso nods, his hands in his pockets.

"How about a dream date?" Iso asked.

"Huh? How'd it come to that all of a sudden?" You laugh.

It's getting difficult trying to ignore the thoughts.

"Sorry, was that too personal?" Iso chuckles.

"It's alright, no harm done." You smile.

"Before you answer, let's head to the hotpot place so we can get comfortable." Iso suggests.

"Good idea. Lead the way, then." You nod, trailing behind Iso.

Following Iso proved to be difficult in this lively street.

You lost Iso a couple of times. But thankfully, Iso was tall enough to so you could see his head above the others.

In one instance, you lost track of Iso and simply walked ahead. What startled you was the hand that suddenly grabbed your wrist.

"Hey, where are you going?" You turned and was met with Iso's lavender eyes with a worried expression on his face.

"Oh- Sorry! I lost you and I thought you were just walking ahead." You smile sheepishly.

"You can hold onto my arm so we don't lose each other." Iso offered his arm for you to hold onto.

There you go, you couldn't stop your face from flushing.

ohmygod im litereally about to bust bro someone call cleanup aisle my underwear cuz i have the niagra falls here with me, you thought.

You had to mentally reprimand yourself to stop getting ahead of yourself. Iso only offered it because you keep losing each other.

You nod hesitantly, holding onto his arm.

mygod he's so close to me dude im boutta bust the biggest nut ever, your mind raced, as well as your heart.

Holding onto Iso's arm surprisingly went well, and navigating through the crowd became easier.

Oddly enough, when you and Iso got away from the crowed, he didn't shake your arm off or move away.

It was more than enough to have you overthinking again.

POOKIE STOP THIS OHMYGOD DID YOU NOT LEARN FROM OMEN AT ALL, you mentally scolded yourself.

Okay, stop. Friends do this too, you know?

You and Iso arrived at the hotpot place that he talked about.

Iso went ahead, opening the door for you.

You smile, mouthing a small thank you and entering the restaurant.

While you checked out the place, Iso went to the receptionist for the table. The place looked to be a Chinese restaurant, with some Chinese writings on a red banner or paintings that you may or may not understand.

The tables and chairs looked to be made of red wood, with Chinese-style teapot and cups place in the middle of the table.

The atmosphere was calm and there were at least four groups of three in sight.

Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt a tap on your shoulder and see Iso with two menus on his hand.

"Hey, ready to take a seat?" Iso smiles at you, offering you the menu.

"Yeah," You nod, taking the menu.

You followed Iso to a table for two and sat down.

"So, about your dream date..." Iso paused.

"Oh, right. I don't really have a preference, but I think cafe dates or library dates are really good." You pondered for a moment.

"Dates that are peaceful and calm seems to slow down time, which means I get to appreciate and enjoy the date for longer." You smile at him.

"How about you? Do you have any preferences?" You ask.

"I like museum dates. The pictures I could get from it would look wonderful." Iso nods.

"Have you ever been on a date before?" You blurt out before you could stop yourself.

"Well... Today will be my first time." Iso smiles sheepishly.

Oh. His date with Sage.

Your ears started ringing again.

"We should order," Iso's voice snapped you out of your trance.

"Oh- Right. Sorry, I spaced out." You smile apologetically, looking through the menu with Iso.

Two hours had passed, it was now the afternoon. You and Iso walked around near the lake, talking and laughing, getting to know each other better.

Although you knew that this was nothing more than a friendly gesture, it wasn't so bad.

"We should head back to HQ," Iso sighs, his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, we should." You nod in response.

He still had a date with Sage, after all. Who were you to take up more of his time? Maybe he just wanted to go out with a friend before his date.

"I had a lot of fun." Iso looks at you, a small smile on his lips.

"Me too. I haven't been going out lately, so this was a nice change." You turn to him with a smile.

"I hope we'll do this again soon." Iso adds.

"I hope so too." You nod.

It made you sad that this was the closest as you can get to going on an actual date with Iso.

But that was okay.

You arrived back to HQ with Iso, seeing Sage seemingly waiting for Iso.

Your eyes met with Sage's as she smiled at you.

she must be really excited to go out with iso, you thought.

You said a simple and quick 'bye' to Iso before power-walking back to your room.

You hear Iso calling after you, which only fueled your tears as you ran away.

Here you were, crying from the start, and still crying in the end.

(A/N: wsg gaymers, what'd you guys think of my long ass updates lol, thanks for reading and supporting Why So Shy? and my other Iso works.)

#iso valorant #iso x reader #valorant iso #valorant #valorant x reader #worksbynightowl

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notnights · 2 days

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i legit love the idea of jax leaving anonymous gifts for gangle, and enjoying being on stage w/her bcs he's actually challenged and active enough to a point where he isn't feeling boredom or dread. also, there's a certain escapism in taking on the role of a character.

hmm, other ribbun scenarios? i can imagine gangle infodumping to zooble abt smth she used to watch, and jax feeling irritated by her rambling at first, but soon becoming accustomed to it and enjoying hearing her voice and opinions. perhaps he even remembers some of the shows she talks about. maybe he chimes in absentmindedly from his hiding spot and zoob n gangle are both like "u were here this whole time ??"

or what about caine using his ringmaster authority to make sure that jax is kind to gangle for a day? and now he has to do whatever gangle asks, and he's not allowed to break her mask. i wonder what she would do with that opportunity? dress him up in silly outfits? get him to pose in different ways for art references? like a mannequin doll.

i love seeing dynamics like these in moments where they have to work together for a common goal, as well. like, they get paired up together in an event and the reward is like. new crayon colours and a can of silly string/sticky hand/centipede or smth. i imagine a lot of yelling and fighting and cartoon violence shenanigans, but maybe, mayhaps, a "good job! we crushed em!" every here and there when things go well.

i also think jax trying to drag gangle away from a teaparty (hosted by ragatha ofc, no jaxes allowed) so that he can have an accomplice in ruining said teaparty for everyone would be fun. he wants to cause some chaos with his favourite victim

anyway hope u like these misc thoughts. idk im new to their dynamic :3c

1). Yeah it's a good thought! For a moment he can be someone else, someone who cares or someone who is open about being in the company of others.

2). I like to think sometimes Jax enjoys Gangle talking... but that's also why he doesn't like it. Doesn't like that something as simple as Gangle going on about something she likes makes him happy. Doesn't know why yet. Too close, too sentimental maybe. Feelings he's not ready for. So then he breaks her mask to shut her up. :(

3). I really want to imagine Jax and Gangle can get along in that way a bully and his lackey does. Bully picks on his lackey too but sometimes they get up to nonsense together and laugh at others together. Comedy!Gangle liking funny things too, which can range from something as silly as giving one ice cube to someone who asked for a couple, to seeing people get physically hurt (to the extent it happens in the DC anyways).

She won't go as far as Jax, when the going gets tough she'd start feeling guilty before Jax does, but up until then she's laughing and fooling around at Ragatha stepping on and getting slammed in the face by a misplaced rake.

Rare moments where they get along because Gangle is acting more willingly in Jax's interests. Idk if this idea has any merit with what we've seen so far. We still have no reference for Comedy!Gangle, and Jax atm really doesn't have any respect for her as an actual friend, at least when she's Tragedy!Gangle. I can only really imagine him getting along with Comedy!Gangle if she really is completely different though, and again we don't know if she is yet.

So it's an idea I haven't worked too much with despite how much I want it. I want them to be silly together. They both ave forever smiles in that aspect.

(concept for the next chapter-promo for the zooblecaine fic)

Anyways, with that said yeah something that gets them working with mutual goals is a good way to get that kind of interaction going. Awful together in a different way. Awful at each other vs Awful together at others lol.

4). Yeah I like the idea he'll drag her to help him with things too. Much to her dismay but she goes along with it, she doesn't really have a choice poor girl. Drags her around like a wet rag until he gets bored of dragging her because, what a drag!

"Wants to cause some chaos with his favorite victim," is such a good line also. I hate Jax, love to see him be awful. My poor girl Gangle deserves better.

#ask #ribbun #long post

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aylish91 · 11 hours

Note

Ill ask about this one since I can guess witch one is my request from the WIP list cause i wanna give someone else a chance. What is baby mer about cause it does sounds cute also I hope your doing well friend :3

Baby Mer:

After a very large and devastating storm, Dream and the boys head to the shallows to see the damages. Cross helps dream while the others go on patrol.

Hearing a strange noise, Cross leaves Dream to investigate, finding a baby/small child mur hidden within the rocks and seagrass.

Then the adventures begin~

Something in Cross’s soul tugged and quivered, eyelights wobbling from the sudden onset of foreign emotion. Cursing, he nervously looked around before back to you again. “I-I’m not, uuuuuh… Okay. Okay… Yeah. Um, let’s gooo, find some help?” [...] Letting out another frightened chirp you darted toward the rest of the group to hide under the belly of a startled Dust. The pilot fish that circled him sank down to inspect you.

#my writing #undertale #cross sans #bad sanses #dust sans #murder sans #dream sans #leviathantale #off camera: Killer is always a gremlin #protective cross #baby reader #child reader #mur reader

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confusionmeisss · 2 days

Text

i hate boston - c. sturniolo

🫧 chris sturniolo x fem!reader

🫧 heartbreak makes you hate a city you never in your life expected to hate.

🫧 angst. hurt/no comfort.

🫧 465 words.

🫧 hi lovelies!! thanks for wanting to read! i loop reneé rapp constantly and one day i was listening to her, and i hate boston was playing & i thought, “i can do something with this” & here we are!! enjoy!! <3

Boston was a beautiful city. Honestly, you loved it there. Key word being loved. Because it all faded away once your heart was broken.

Christopher Sturniolo.

The boy who made you fall in love twice over. Once with him, and then with his city.

You met Chris at a thrift store in downtown LA. You thought he was cute, he thought you were pretty, so you exchanged numbers.

On your first date, he took you out to get ice cream, and afterwards you window-shopped along the Venice Beach strip. It ended with you both getting matching turtle hats. Your cheeks hurt when the day was over, it was one of the best dates you’ve ever been on.

After a month of dating he introduced you to his brothers. You got on with Matt and Nick tremendously well. Sitting with Nick on the couch and showing each other your favorite TikToks was a wonderful pastime. And watching cheesy classic rom-coms with Matt was another of your favorites when Chris was busy.

And a year into your relationship he took you home with him for his birthday. There you met his parents, the sweetest pair you’ve ever met.

You spent so many early mornings talking with Mary-Lou, her showing you baby photos without Chris there to stop her. And talking golf with Jimmy in the middle of the day, even though you only knew barely bare minimum knowledge of the sport.

During your time in Boston, Chris showed you so many of his favorite places. He took you to Star Market where he used to work before YouTube. You spent so much time at his best friend Nate’s house. He took you to the beach and the aquarium and the record store. He showed every little nook and cranny of Boston that he could; all the tourist spots and all the unknown, underground places he loved to go to.

Chris intertwined himself with that city so intensely that you couldn’t help but equate it with him. Anytime someone mentioned the word Boston your mind immediately filled with thoughts of Chris.

That’s why it hurt so much when he broke up with you. He made you love him. He made you love his city. With so much pain in your heart, and with nowhere else to put it, you turned around and decided to hate the city he loves so much because it’s easier than hating him.

Because you can’t hate Christopher Sturniolo. Not truly. Not fully. Not ever maybe. Because he didn’t mean to hurt you. But he did. So now you hate Boston because it’s easier than the twisted haunting pain of memory.

You hope one day though, that you can love Boston in full again, because it truly is just a casualty to your heartbreak.

#ali’s writing 🖋️#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #ali’s thoughts & opinions 📼

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onthewaytosomewhere · 1 day

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Going to give you a challenge to do a family friendly(ish) ficlet 😇

3 with the white house trio, you can decide who's in trouble 😂 x

TAYLOR!!! i met the challenge and kept this bb family friendly(ish) lolz

hope ya like what i did with this one - i had planned for more of june and nora but alex got in his head when they wouldn't stop laughing at him

Alex is, quite frankly, fucked. June and Nora are lying on the foot of his bed laughing, and he really wants to kick them out of his room. But he also really wants them to stop laughing because he needs his big sister and best friend to help him. Someone needs to tell him how he didn’t realize he wanted the Prince of England to be not just his best friend but his boyfriend, but his boyfriend. He knew he would do anything for Henry. He just didn’t realize that meant also wanting to kiss him senseless when he was upset by yet another asshat that had treated him like shit so that he would stop feeling sad. He’s a month from graduating from college. He should have already had any revelations about his sexuality that he was going to have. Well, he’s never been the best at conventionally doing things, so why should this be any different? Since that first day, Alex met him as a freshman, Henry has always been a part of his life. At first, Alex thought it was going to be as his ‘archenemy,’ but then June told him he wasn’t cool enough to have an archenemy and that maybe he should give him a chance. After all, Henry was one of her best friends, and if Alex couldn’t get along with him, well maybe he would need to make some other friends. She had no plans to give up time with her friends for Alex to be an anger-pent-up fool. It hadn’t taken long for Alex to see the real Henry, and well, he couldn’t help if he usurped all of the rest of the Super Six, as they now call themselves, as Henry’s best friend. It was inevitable. After all, he was, objectively, the one who was the coolest of them. Well, he’ll admit that’s probably not the case, but the point of it being inevitable still stands. Summer before Alex’s sophomore year, when Henry was looking for a roommate, he had jumped at the chance not to be stuck in another dorm room with another crap-tastic roommate. Especially considering if it had happened, he would most likely be at Henry’s all the time anyway. They might as well cut out any potentially crappy roommates altogether. The first couple of years, neither of them seemed to date, and the amount of time they spent, as Nora called it, ‘practically in each other’s pockets’ didn’t allow much time for anyone else. This last year though, Henry had seemed to be on a mission to work his way through every ‘slimeball’ in the city. Alex didn’t understand what had changed—when his company became not enough, and why Henry couldn’t stop dating all the dudes that just made him look sad when he was with Alex. The look that June had sent him the first time he had said that months ago should have made him think more about why he was thinking that. Needless to say, he hadn’t, and now here he was post my-best-friend-slash-roommate kissed me, and I kissed him back, and now all I want to do is kiss him more. Henry had fled, of course, he had, and Alex had called June because he was also predictable. Now, here he sits, just wanting someone to tell him how to make this all right. He refuses to lose what might be the best thing in his life. He just needs to figure out how to convince Henry that they’re perfect for each other.

this can also be found on ao3 if you'd rather, they'll all be there as they get written

this is part of a pair and goes with it's henry complement

#ficlet friday #firstprince #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #alex mopes a bit after realizing he's in luv with his bff #who kissed him and ran #3 guesses who his bff is and the first 2 don't count #henry kissed him and now alex realizes he's in luv #this one goes with the henry one

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3rinbkk · 1 year

Text

jungkook’s masterlist💗

SERIES

risqué by @mercurygguk - on going

genre: age gap au, angst, smut, fluff. summary: in which Jungkook struggles to keep his relationship with you strictly appropriate and it’s not like you’re making it easy for him.

runaway by @archivedkookie - on going

genre: best friend’s brother au, fwb, 4 years age gap, smut, angst, fluff, slow burn. summary: when your best friend’s brother, your first-ever crush, offers to help you explore your sexual desires, you just can’t refuse. especially when it’s someone as irresistible as Jeon Jungkook.

mutual help by @personasintro - on going

genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fake dating au. summary: in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires– he calls it a mutual help.

bad influence by @noteguk

summary: in which you know Jungkook is a bad influence on you, but you can’t avoid falling for him every time.

practice by @chryblossomjjk

genre: college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst.

blackout by @jjungxkook

genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut. summary: utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

the dilf installments by @mercurygguk - on going

genre: established relationship, smut, angst, fluff. summary: this series follows Jungkook’s life as a divorced father. but wait, how exactly does one balance being a father, a boyfriend, a friend, and a respectable boss at the same time?

to turn a bad thing good by @chateautae - on going

genre: series, arranged marriage!au, fwb!au, haters to lovers, smut, fluff, angst. summary: Jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night– and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

the weekend by @chryblossomjjk

genre: m/18+, fwb, angst, smut. summary: every weekend, you give Jungkook a little taste of something he’s missing monday through friday.

hair dye: the collection by @mercurygguk

genre: established relationship, fluff, sumt. summary: series about Jungkook’s different hair colors.

denial by @girlygguk

genre: fwb au, secret-ish situationship, smut/fluff-ish/angt-ish. summary: it’s been a plethora of secret meetups, quickies in the bathrooms of his awards shows, and 2 am ‘you up?’ texts during you year-long situationship with Jungkook. you both agreed in the beginning that your careers are far too hectic to commit to anything serious, but you can't shake the shitty ache in your chest every time the high wears off, or when you’re crawling out of his bed in the middle of the night, trying to exile the shitty feeling of longing that you harbor for him, you spend time with another one of your guy friends. Jungkook sees, and he’s mad.

colour me in by @taegularities

genre: fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut. summary: Jungkook’s door only opens for you when there’s a barter: a trade of lust and haze. but today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening- and you hope it doesn’t close his door forever.

gradation by @shina913

genre: bf2l, fwb, slow burn; fluff, angst, smut. summary: on your wedding day, your fiancé leaves you at the altar. while reeling from the embarrassment and heartbreak your best friend, Jungkook, wants to do everything that he can to help you heal.

in the seom by @thvhoe

genre: college au, fwb to lovers, smut, angst, fluff.

p&p by @yoon-kooks

genre: smut, fluff, college!au.

spicy n' sweet by @thvhoe

genre: established relationship, fluff, smut, angst, dance au x boxer au. summary: Jeon Jungkook is the perfect guy... to piss off your parents. he's buff, inked up and the definition of their worst nightmare but hey, when love comes knocking on your door there's not much you can do. it's not like you planned on falling for him... it just kinda happened, and honestly, you're not even mad about it. not at all.

in which by @onlyswan

genre: established relationship, fluff. NOTE: this is one of (if not MY) favorite series i've ever read. it's so beautiful and heartwarming and it brings me so much comfort,,, thank u so much for this amazing work of art <3

bitchin' by @kinktae

genre: 1980s au, eventual smut, e2l. summary: the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with Jean Jungkook.

gold rush by @onlyswan

genre: fluff, smut. summary: what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? with your falling into place like dominos.

candles & flames by @taegularities

genre: enemies to lovers, royal!au: angst, fluff, smut. summary: he wasn't supposed to be yours. his foolery wasn't supposed to target you. tis wasn't supposed to happen.

ONE SHOTS

make you mine by @mercurygguk

genre: college au, friends to lovers au, fluff, angst, smut. summary: your first day at your new college is quite eventful to sa th least. but everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way - if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

never be friends by @jjungxkook

genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, crack, suggestive. summary: a healthy mix of irritation and amusement leads to kissing and making out with your best friend. everyone knows that.

white lies by @noteguk

genre: smut, fluff, very minor angst. summary: in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. bet he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

happy birthday loser by @jungk0oksthighs

genre: idiots to lovers, smut. summary: after three years of limping over your roommate, you give him one hell of a birthday celebration.

what if I love you too much? by @taleasnewastime

genre: fluff, angst, smut, single mum reader. summary: jungkook. it’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. and though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. you don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. all the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

roommates by @jjkeverlast

genre: roommates to lovers, roommates au. summary: you’ve been roommates with jeon jungkook for quite some time now, not having a single thought of him other than a roommate. but things take an unexpected turn when you accidentally catch him in the act.

on my knees by @jjkeverlast

genre: smut (seriously this is pure smut) summary: who needs a vibrator when Jeon Jungkook is here to do the job? not you.

the act of falling by @kooktrash

genre: smut, angst, fluff, established fwb, fuckboy!jk x fem!reader. summary: what was supposed to be a meaningless fling has turned into much more before you both realized you were falling. now all you can do is hope that all the challenges you’ve faced are worth something.

stay by @koostarcandy

genre: fluff, angst, slight smut, this is the “she fell first bet he fell harder” trope. summary: Jungkook comes in and out of your life like a recurring side character in a 90s show. you wish that he would stay, just like the main character that he is.

eat me by @7deadlysinsfics

genre: pwp, fwb au, f2l au, smut, fluff. summary: you accuse all men of not knowing how to make women cum, and your best friend, ever the competitive one, challenges you to let him show you that he doesn’t fall into that category. blame the tequila for what ensues.

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @oddinary4bts

genre: fwb to lovers, idol!au, angst (a lot), smut (a whole lot too), fluff. summary: you had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. that is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

changes in between by @taegularities

genre: roommate au, s2f2l; some crack, fluff, angst, smut. summary: “does that mean that I can kiss you now” becoming the roommate of Jeon Jungkook is the biggest change you’ve ever gotten thrown into- but little do you know that the addition of another man will bring even further turbulence into your (love) life.

rockstar 101 by @jeonjcngkook

genre: rockstar au, pwp, established relationship, smut, just pure unadulterated filth. summary: in the words of christina aguilera, “there’s nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm” and Jungkook is certainly coated in it.

groupie by @joonsy2k

genre: smut, fluff if you squint. summary: your best friend Jimin invites you to see his band, painted duck, perform at your local bar. you didn't expect to end up backstage with the bands lead bassist.

feel better by @mercurygguk

summary: your boyfriend arrives home after the Grammys, seeming annoyed and disappointed. and as his girlfriend, you want to make him feel better.

seven days a week by @back2bluesidex

genre: pwp, smut, fluff if you squint. summary: Jungkook promised himself that he will be fucking you right seven days a week.

primrose by @jeonjcngkook

genre: romance, established relationship, fluff, smut. summay: "I said... we're not done. understand?"

concrete king by @bratkook

genre: fluff, smut, limbo energy. summary: when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there's no way you could ever say no to him.

part two: hit the slopes.

cockblocked by @mercurygguk

genre: roommates au + friends (idiots) to lovers, smut/fluff/angst. summary: in which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they're too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. or alternatively; "you're an idiot for thinking i wouldn't love you back."

wicked by @noteguk

genre: smut, demon!jk. summary: in which incubus!jungkook likes to ruin pretty innocent things, and you might just be the perfect target.

many moons by @onlyswan

genre: royalguard!jk x princess!reader, strangers to lovers; fluff, angst a bit, slightly suggestive. summary: your father sets off to find a way to get you the moon, not realizing he has already given it to you.

all over you by @taegularities

genre: fantasy!au, HP!au, exes/e2l!au, light angst, fluff, smut, a lot of smut. summary: you just wanted to win the prize in options class, but it seems as if your ex has other plans.

DRABBLES

strawberry lips by @personasintro

genre: fluff summary: it’s not your fault your professor is extremely young and oh, so hot.

tryna smoke by @kooyeux

summary: little weed smoking sex session with you fuck buddy Jungkook in his lil' studio.

squirtle by @kooyeux

summary: "if you were a pokemon, you would be squirtle".

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hwaitham · 8 days

Text

spent the past three hours of my morning reading about the physics and history behind codd neck bottles i hope everyone is having a splendid sunday so far yaaaayy ! ! 🥰

#𓈒 ۫ 𝓹𝓾𝓹𝓹𝓲𝓮 𐂯 𝓹𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓼 ₊⠀ೀ #you see . . i had a ramune with my dinner yesterday #it was my first time drinking a ramune :3 aside frm tasting so yumz the bottle design is incredibly fascinating ! !#so fascinating that i couldnt help but think about it all of last night + this morning when i woke up . . .#someone wrote a phd thesis on codd bottles so i found myself perusing it over the past few hrs #there were the original bottle design sketches by hiram codd ( who invented these bottles ) n also patents it was rllie coolbeanz :D #anw i just think the idea of using a glass marble to keep aerated liquids bubbly n in turn using the pressure frm these liquids #to keep the glass marble sealed at the lip of the bottle is ingenious . . . engineers are so smart waaah ! !#all this to say that i hv decided to collect ramune bottles ♡ the bottles are pretty but so are the labels for #each of the different flavours ! ! id like to collect them all n arrange them by colour on my bedroom sill (/ω＼)#i think it wld look rllie cute !#WAH anywhosies . . this is my update of the day . . . ehe C: i hv a few fics to read + many asks to answer so i will be closing my mailbox #only for a few days . . ;;^__^7 please bare w me ! ♡♡#but . . Yaaa ! ! i rllie hope ure all having a sweet day so far ! if no one has told u this yet 2dai — i love you !#n if youve alrdie heard it frm someone else . . well . . . u deserve to hear it again :3 i love you ! ! 💐

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wuffgang-ameowdeus-moozart · 4 months

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Oh no I am an anxious wreck once again. What now?

Here are a few tipps and tricks that help me personally to deal with anxiety (plus some I know work for others). Please feel free to add your own coping mechanisms in the notes!!!! Even though I technically know means to calm myself down, I always forget everything when I'm in the thick of it, so while this is mainly a reminder for myself I hope this list can help at least one other person as well :)

First of all: emotions are hard, and they are overwhelming, and shaming yourself will not make it better. Chances are it will make everything worse, actually. So don't you dare feel bad for needing help even with the "easy" stuff, or for not being able to endure as much as your peers, or even for half-assing stuff sometimes. It's fine. Like, for real. I promise it's okay. You don't need to always be at your best. You don't even need to be at your best most of the time.

What helps me personally is imagining that these struggles are affecting another person close to me. If my best friend were to call me because she needs help answering an E-Mail, or even to cancel last minute because she feels too overwhelmed to leave her house right now, I would never make her feel like crap because of it or talk about her behind her back or anything else your brain may be trying to convince you of. I know that she is at least as good a person as me (probably better tbh), so if I wouldn't do any of that, she certainly would never. In fact, believing these thoughts is actually a disservice to her, who did nothing to deserve these mean remarks (quite the opposite actually). Basically, try to twist and out-logic your own brain into being less of a cunt to you. Try guilt-tripping yourself into being kinder. The bad emotions are there anyways, might as well use them to your advantage. I can speak from experience that being anxious is a bit less unbearable if you aren't being a self-obsessed asshole on top of everything else

JUST FUCKING DO IT

If the source of your anxiety isn't a particular task you have been procrastinating on, or is something you can't just do whenever (f. ex. a job interview that's two days away), feel free to skip this part ^^

If you are still here: I know it can feel like actual hell to just do the thing. If you immediately want to click away after seeing this title I don't blame you. I mean, I am currently writing a huge ass post about anxiety instead of answering the two (2) E-Mails literally making my hands tremble. But the truth is, doing the thing is actually never as bad as it seems. Here's some stuff that maybe can help:

-> Remember that it's never been the end of the world before, so surely it won't start being it now. If you've already been through a similar situation: remember that it isn't the first time you've felt this way; remember that doing the thing wasn't as bad as you'd feared and, most importantly; remember how you felt after doing it. If this is the first time you feel like that, I'm sorry. I promise you aren't stupid for "overreacting", and I promise it will feel at least a little bit better if you just get it over with. And when you've managed the first time, you can now use that as an example instead of taking some stranger on the internet on his word. Worst comes to worst, you can still anon hate me (jk please don't)

-> Rewarding yourself. Remember that putting yourself down tends to make things worse. Allow yourself to be proud for your achievements, yes even the small ones that most people barely even think about. Because sometimes shit is just hard, but you still did it, and that's fucking awesome !!! For me personally just the knowledge that my anxiety will lessen (and I will probably get some good sleep - emotions are so fucking exhausting) is enough most of the time, but you can also give yourself a little treat afterwards. You've earned it!

-> Hide it in between chill tasks. Like right now, I'm writing this instead of my fucking E-Mail. I am a bit calmer since this is distracting myself from the daunting task of typing a few words. So I am now going to open my mails on another tab, type this shit, and send it. And I know that when I did that I will feel better about myself. And even if I fuck up somehow (how you ask? i don't fucking know), I will immediately have this task to come back to so I don't have the chance to overthink it. I FUCKING DID IT I AM THE CHAMPION OF THE WORLD

-> If you have a bunch of stuff you swore yourself you would do (a bunch can also mean like 2 btw) starting can seem even more daunting (even if it is, as aforementioned, "only" two). So I am very happy to present written lists my absolute beloved. In my experience, stuff is a lot less overwhelming if it isn't only living inside your head. You get a feeling of accomplishment when you can cross something off your list. You don't have to keep panicking about forgetting something (since everything is already written down on your list.) You can even break down bigger tasks into smaller more manegeable ones (f. ex. instead of "clean your room" -> "1. do your bed; 2. fold your clothes; 3. etc etc".) It's great because even if you don't manage the entire big task you still feel less like a failure since you've got proof of all the small accomplishments you did manage. Plus it's easier to continue on another day since you know exactly what you have to do and have proof of everything you already managed as a motivator.

-> Accept help. Be on the phone with a friend while doing the thing (if possible, of course). Ask your friends to be your hypeman before and after doing the thing. Get reassurance from other people. Go to your friend's house to ask them to read your E-Mails, summarize them verbally, and then type an appropriate answer for you (can you already tell me and electronic mail aren't in the best of terms?) Making things harder on yourself on purpose isn't being strong it's being stupid

-> already mentioned it a bunch of times, I know, but the thing that really helps for me is comparing with past experiences. I know I will feel better after I do it because that's always what happens when my brain blows things out of proportion. I know I can do this because I did even scarier stuff and it went well. Or even: if I manage to do this seemingly super scary thing, I will be able to use it as a motivator for smaller stuff in the future. I mean, what even is a fucking E-Mail in comparison to going to a social event on your own ??! (seriously, do it. in my experience it's surprisingly easy to find friends if you look pathetic enough, plus a lot of things seem a bit less paralyzing in comparison)

-> I turn it into a competition, or a game. If I do the thing I win. If I don't do the thing the anxiety wins. And I refuse to let that happen because I'm competitive AND a sore loser <3 so I do the thing. and then I feel a bit better

JUST DON'T THINK ABOUT IT. THINKING IS THE ANTITHESIS OF DOING. (which you can also use to your advantage, à la better to think about that unhealthy coping mechanism and why you shouldn't do it than to stop thinking about it and actually doing it instead. But that isn't the point right now)

DISTRACTIONS

Sometimes there just isn't anything you can do. Sometimes all you can do is wait. Sometimes you don't even know why the fuck you're feeling like that. And that fucking sucks.

I know there are some people who need an absence of stimuli in order to calm down. (If that's you, please leave some of your own pointers in the notes! I don't really have any ideas for that one tbh)

For me, the opposite is the case. I can't count the times my mom has told me to "try meditating!" or "don't do more than one thing at the same time it'll only stress you out even more!", unaware that giving my thoughts free reign would make everything so much worse.

I need to overwhelm myself in order to be able to forget about my anxiety for a while. Sometimes doing a task I've been dreading is easier after distracting myself for a few hours (being anxious is very tiring so if you let it run its course in the back of your mind for a while you'll have less energy for it later ^^). Here's some stuff that could help (though it should be noted that a) not everything will work on everyone and b) sometimes it just doesn't work. even if it worked the last five times. Don't ask me why it is what it is):

-> Do something (really anything) while listening to a video essay/podcast/audiobook. That's my go-to classic. Feel your mind slipping away from whatever you're doing? Force yourself to really listen to what is being said. Sometimes it helps to mouth the words along to my audio of choice (while still doing your thing at the same time!!) Speed it up (I've usually got my stuff at 1.75x or 2x). Assume that pretty much everything listed below can be done while having this as a second layer of distraction

-> Learn something new. I was literally just teaching myself the tabs for Every Breath You Take by The Police and 26 by Paramore on the guitar before starting this. I tried learning finnish and irish for a while there (learning vocabulary, trying to translate sth, learning grammar, etc.). Sometimes it can take a bit of time to get into it, but once you're there it's easy to lose yourself in it (in my experience at least.) And you can always start another video essay in the background!

-> Baking. I usually do half or fourth the recipe to a.) waste less ingredients; b.) have less stuff to eat so you can go bake more stuff sooner; and c.) feel less bad if it doesn't turn out how you hoped. Plus you can also make yourself more likeable by giving some to your neighbours ;)

-> Comfort book/series/movie/etc. I'll be honest, this one almost never works for me, but I know that for some people it does so on the list it goes

-> Take a walk. Touch some grass. Go outside. Personally have very mixed feelings towards this one. Used to do it all the time during lockdown (walking nowhere for literal hours while listening to music), but when it doesn't help it makes things much much worse (in my experience) So maybe be a bit careful? If you want to get away from your thoughts this is...bad. But otherwise (like if you just have the feeling of anxiety without a specific reason) it's worth a try

-> Do maths. I'm serious. For a while there I couldn't sleep, so I'd go on the net, search for equasion exercises, and just go wild. Don't look at the answer: this isn't the point. It's something with a fixed procedure and no consequences if you mess up (you won't even know if you mess up). Maybe instead of equations you find long division more relaxing. Just try not to think of school, put the pressure away, and give it a go.

-> Go to your comfort place. This is also a bit of a tricky one. First of all, not everyone has one of those. Or maybe you can't really go there (like, I always calm down when I'm at the beach. I adore the ocean. But I don't have sea anywhere near me, so sucks to be me i guess). But if you do have a place near you it's worth a try. Sometimes after a particular stressful therapy session i just...go chill at the library for a while. It helps :)

-> Blorbo scrolling. I personally prefer looking at a bunch of art and comics (visual stuff) since i don't really have the concentration to read when I'm anxious, but see what works best for you <3

-> Menial tasks. I love them. Sorting stuff that actually doesn't really matter (like taking all your books from your shelves and trying a new way to organize them). The already mentioned maths exercises. Washing the dishes/putting them back in their place (you can combine that one with the baking hehe). Volunteering work can also be pretty helpful: they often need help with menial tasks plus you can feel good about yourself for helping. Recently started helping at my local animal shelter and it's actually pretty great !

-> Sports. I personally hate sports and always feel worse afterwards, but so many people talk about it that it must be of help to someone out there. What I used to do when I got suddenly overrun by emotions is taking my skipping rope and jumping as fast as I physically could til I felt a bit better (and sweaty ew)

-> Sometimes I like starting a small project; depending on the mood either with no pressure to finish (or intention to show anyone ever because eww), or posting it in hope for praise that'll make me feel a bit better about myself heh. Just something else I can focus on. (ex. g. I've got a meeting I'm nervous about tomorrow so I started writing this huge-ass post) Just remember: IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE GOOD!! JUST CREATE! I PROMISE BEING CREATIVE AND/OR DOING STUFF IS AWESOME!! (or if nothing else at least frustrating enough to overshadow the anxiety lol)

-> In the wise words of mother mother: Dance and cry, and cry and dance and cry. (And sing. And scream. Or get out that skipping rope. Just let it out my dude.)

-> Watch a show in a foreign language faster (like 2x speed) and with subtitles (less time to read, more required focus, less brain power to panic)

-> immersive reading (audio + text); especially effective if you do it in a language you are currently learning or one that is similar (but not the same!) to your native tongue (f. ex. portuguese and spanish)

-> Try sleeping. Doesn't always work, but at least it wastes time.

I THINK I'M ABOUT TO HAVE A PANIC/ANXIETY ATTACK

-> Strong sudden stimulant. Like smelling a very strong perfume or taking a freezing shower.

-> Just. Let it wash over you. It sucks, yes, but it'll be over. Try keeping calm. I know, easy to say when you yourself aren't currently going through it, but anxiety about a future attack will not, in fact, make things less worse. Once again, remembering past attacks can help as well? It didn't kill you then, it won't kill you now. (My therapist suggested using a mental image, like huge waves or something. I personally don't do that but maybe it'll help)

-> Cover your ears and listen to your heart. Key point: this is NOT aiming to drown out noise, but to ground yourself by listening to your own body (bloodstream and creaking bones etc) (ty anon <3)

-> I'm not sure whether this'll work with panic attacks as well (according to google one of the key differences is that these don't really have a trigger and just....happen) and it probably won't be viable in every situation. But just. Be enough of a spiteful little shit to turn your breakdown into a powermove. (The distressing emotions are there anyways might as well make use of them). You told your teacher you get extreme anxiety when you have to speak in public and they ignored you because the school system actually hates kids? Look them right in the eyes as you start hysterically sobbing so they feel really bad, maybe be extra subdued the next few lessons. As far as you know it'll get you a few pity points that'll make a difference in your overall grade! (Pretty sure I got a better grade in my arts finals than i deserved) Someone knowingly breaks a boundary you set because "oh you've been doing so well" and "it's an irrational fear so it isn't real anyways" or whatever they tell themselves to justify it? This is your chance to make them really see how what they did is wrong (and hopefully will make them think twice before pulling shit like that again). If you warned them, they are literally asking for it. And it'll seem that much more impressive when you are having a good day for once and manage to get through it without one (you've earned that extra credit). Maybe I'm just a bit of a vindictive person, but reframing the narrative like that in my head gives me some semblance of control, which makes it all a bit less scary.

IT DIDN'T FIT ANYWHERE ELSE BUT IS STILL IMPORTAT

This is mostly me reminding myself that it's fine tbh. Because it is.

-> Remember that you can just do shit. I don't know how else to say this, but sometimes my anxiety makes it feel like hiding away in my room is my only option. But that's not true! There is so much stuff you can do, I'm always in awe for a while when I get this through my thick skull once again. Like, you can just go to places. You can just write to your friends. You can just start a chat with that cool mutual you're too nervous to directly interact with. You can move. You can change jobs. You can redecorate your house. You can get into a random train and only get out at the last station, wherever that may be. YOU CAN JUST DO SHIT?!?!?! ISN'T THAT FUCKING AWESOME?!!!!!!!!

-> Extreme emotions can have unpleasant physical side effects. Sweating. Body odor. No appetite and/or extreme hunger cravings (sometimes at the same time??). Diarrhea. It sucks (especially when it continues on for multiple days and your oh so kind peers make sure to constantly remind you of those physical symptoms you are already overly aware of). But it's normal and it's fine. It doesn't make you gross, I promise.

-> THIS TOO SHALL PASS (that's it. Sometimes it's good to remind yourself. This too shall pass.)

-> Sometimes I just do small harmless shit to prove my anxious lizard brain wrong. Randomly say hi on that group chat you haven't entered for months. Create something you aren't really happy with and post it anyways, just cuz you can. Go do something on your own. The more you prove your fears wrong with little things like that, the easier it gets (especially if you have to do bigger scary stuff). Spite can be your best friend. (Plus easy way to gain more points in my mental competition hehehe)

-> Sometimes, despite your best efforts, you will fuck up. You will barely be able to say a word in the social event you forced yourself to go in order to meet cool people. You will be so obviously anxious at your friend's birthday that she will still remember that over a year later (despite your best efforts to hide it at the time). You will get an anxiety attack because of something you thought you had already gotten over months ago. And it sucks, but more importantly, it's fine. This too shall pass. This is another reason why the previous point is so important: it's harder to hold these incidents over your head if you have so many other experiences where you managed to prove yourself.

-> YOU get to decide when you want to try confronting a fear. Nobody else can do that for you, no matter how often they mention "exposure therapy" and shit (it's about the control once again. in my experience it's important for it to be your choice). Occasionally hiding away doesn't make you a failure. There are always more chances, it's never too late to start. Already mentioned it a bazillion times, but this shit is exhausting and you are well within your right to stay in your comfort zone and rest.

-> I don't know if it's just a me thing but self reminder to avoid lactose and gluten when overly anxious. (i never do but i am aware of it that should count for something)

-> gender-affirming stuff can help ^^

-> Not viable to everybody, but sometimes I just delete all social media from my phone. You can still go there through browser of course (that's where I'm actually currently writing this) but just not having the icon on the phone can already feel somewhat of a relief (social media in this case also including messaging apps like discord or WhatsApp or fucking electronic mail my beloathed). That's actually what I am planning to do immediately after posting this thing that came out a bit more personal and stream-of-conscousness than initially planned. You won't even be able to tell cuz I never tag my queues hehehe

-> mentally dunking my stupid anxious lizard brain into salt water rn. Fuck you. I'm posting this. I'm leaving my house tomorrow instead of calling in sick. I'm winning.

#i apologize if there are spelling errors or sentences that dont make sense (my focus is a bit shit rn lol)#once again hope this can help someone? plus always open to more suggestions etc etc #it feels a bit hypocritical to be posting this rn tbh since i am not dealing with my anxiety that well atm tbh #but then i look back to how it was like two years ago and actually i *did* improve even if only a bit so like fuck you too lizard brain #i hope you get to look out of your window and realize that you too have come far <3 #i love being a lil cheeseball hehehehe #anxiety #actually anxious #actually anxiety #uhm idk how else to tag this i guess ill rely on rbgs lol

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