#as-is then like… it feels Fine even if it’s completely changing almost every aspect of his character

[cospinol]

carefully skirting the issue of nerea in that last post, if he did die as per current canon it was 100% lorien’s fault but again lately i’m feeling like what if he Didn’t… letting him live undoes a huge portion of centre of the sun plot / setup but if i’m kind of overhauling all the anda and lyn stuff Anyways i can’t help but keep being like ok why not then

[jjsmaybank20]

Hiiiii, I was wondering if you could write a Barca femini x teen reader fic where she is under an immense amount of pressure from the media and more specifically her father and believes she has to do it all, she has to be perfect, she has to make her father proud. So she balances the weight of school, Barca training and matches, and the extra training she does (she legit runs herself into the ground in an attempt to forgot about all the pressure she is under, however this only causes her to feel even more stressed). The team specifically the captains, More so Alexia start to notice. They ask her if she is doing well and she denies anything is wrong saying she is fine with no further Answer. Reader decides she doesn’t have time for sleep and has to get as much school work done, so she has more time to do extra trainings. So she starts getting like 5 hours of sleep per night or less which is definitely not enough for a pro athlete to function. She keeps this up for a few weeks or days idk. When Alexia and the other decide enough is enough and they intervene. Reader tries to deny it and get up and leave but Alexia isn’t having it and just hugs reader tightly and then they all end up comforting her. They all tell her she needs more sleep and it’s okay to take a day off so she can take care of herself.

You def dont have to write this i jus though i would ask🫶

Feel Good

Barcelona Femení x Fem!Teen!Reader Alexia Putellas x Fem!Teen!Reader

Summary: R is under immense pressure to succeed, but it doesn't take long for it to become too much.

Warnings: R passing out, R doesn't have a good relationship with her father

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Sorry this took so long! I changed a few small things, but not too dramatically. Hope you like it!

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---

From a young age, you always strove to be the best you could possibly be. You worked hard, constantly pushing yourself to be better. When watching you study, train, and play in matches, people would describe you as a perfectionist. You didn’t disagree with that description, but you did believe that you needed to be perfect in order to gain the approval of your team, the fans, and especially your father. 

Y/F/N had always been a cold and tough man. Never generous with his praise, and almost overwhelming with his need for perfection, he ruled your life and your career with an iron fist since the day you showed an exceptional talent for football. You made your way through the youth teams with impressive speed, finding yourself on the Barça B team at the age of 15 and finally being promoted to the first team at the young age of 16. 

Being one of the youngest on the team, the senior players took you under their wing. Lucy and Mapi would joke around with you, while Alexia and Irene would take care of you and keep you on the right track to the point that you saw them as your motherly figures. For a long time, it had just been you and your dad, your mother never really in the picture. You grew up thinking that the only way for someone to love you was if you were practically flawless in every aspect of life, so naturally you assumed it would be the same with the team. 

---

For a while, you were able to balance everything. There was a delicate routine that needed to be followed that guaranteed you would complete your schoolwork on time while also performing the best you possibly could in matches and practices. You were strict with yourself, keeping up a rigorous schedule that impressed even the senior players. 

Slowly, though, your rigid daily life starts to slip through your fingers. It begins when your father starts to comment more and more on a slip in your performance that you don’t even notice. You don’t argue back with him, though. Instead, you decide to add extra practice every day to your regimen. Those added hours of practice means you have to push your schoolwork further into the night, telling yourself that it needs to get done, no matter how late it is. 

Your nights get continuously later, and it begins to take a toll on your performance at practice. At first, your teammates think you're having an off day, and then an off week. When your performance doesn’t improve after that first week, the girls start to get worried. Watching you idly kick a ball around from the sidelines, Alexia murmurs, “I’m worried about la pequeña. She’s been so quiet lately.” Mapi hums in agreement. “She won’t joke around with me anymore. Says that she needs to focus.” The Zaragozan looks at you just as you miss the ball you were juggling. You let out a deep sigh before picking it up and starting again. Mapi’s chest fills with concern at the sight. “She looks so tired.”

You continue to practice, not noticing the two senior player’s eyes on you. After completing the exercise you were working on, you pack the balls up and head inside to the gym. Placing your earbuds in, you don’t notice how Patri and Pina watch you with shock in their eyes as you slip past them on their way out of the gym. 

They flag down Alexia and Mapi as they pass the duo, hoping that they would be able to give some insight as to why you were working out after practice was over. Instead of reassuring them, their captain and Mapi share a glance full of concern. They quickly walk towards the gym, hoping to get some sort of explanation out of you as to why you were pushing yourself so hard. 

As you side step with a resistance band around your legs, you begin to feel light headed. Instead of stopping, you decide that you can just push through and that it will pass with time. Just as Alexia and Mapi reach the gym, your body finally gives up out of exhaustion and your eyes roll back into your head as you crumple to the ground. 

Alexia rushes to your side, pulling your head into her lap. “Get the trainers, now!” Mapi rushes out of the room, following the order immediately. As she anxiously waits, Alexia runs her hands through your hair. Up close, she can now see the dark bags under your eyes from a lack of sleep. “Oh, cariño. What is going on with you?” 

---

As you come to, you are met with the semi-harsh fluorescent lights of the recovery room. Everything seems blurry at first, causing you to blink your eyes to clear away the fog. You groan as you try to sit up, realizing with a start that your head is absolutely throbbing. Even through the pain, you still feel more rested than you have in weeks. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to block out the bright light. Someone lightly touches your back, startling you. 

“Hey, hey! Calm down, cariño. It’s just me.” You settle slightly at the soothing tone of Alexia’s voice. When you finally glance around the room, you are met with quite a few pairs of worried eyes belonging to your teammates. 

Finally, you look at Alexia. Her eyes are filled with such deep concern that you can’t help but turn away again. She softly speaks up from beside you, asking, “What is going on with you? You look like you haven’t slept in weeks, you seem constantly stressed out, and you haven’t taken a day off in months. I mean, you literally passed out from exhaustion, por dios!” 

You stare at your lap, knowing that as soon as you look up, you’re going to break down. “I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” Alexia can’t help but get a tiny bit frustrated with you. Your stubbornness has always been there, and she admires your refusal to quit. In this case, though, she just wishes you would let her help. “Cariño, passing out like that isn’t something normal or fine. Please, tell me what’s happening.”

When Alexia leans down to try to look at your face, she can see the tears forming in your eyes. You glance up slightly, and when you are met with one of the kindest and most caring looks you have ever received in your life, the dam breaks. “I can’t take it anymore! It never ends. It’s always something. One day it’s my footwork, the next it's my shooting. There’s always something to pick apart. And when I’ve finally satisfied him with my football, it’s ‘your grades are dropping’ or ‘your not focusing on school enough’. There's no end to it. I can’t ever stop, and it’s. just. too. much!” You punctuate your last couple words by smacking the medical bed underneath you. 

Your teammates sit in stunned silence for a second, watching as hot tears stream down your face. Finally, Alexia springs forward and pulls you into her arms. Everyone else follows suit, and you finally let yourself let out your anger and frustration in the arms of the people you trust. As you cry, Alexia murmurs into your hair, “It’s okay, cariño. Let it all out. It’s okay. You can rest now. It’s always okay to take a break. Needing to take a break just means that you're human.”

Even when you finally tire yourself out and drift asleep, Alexia holds you tightly. Subconsciously, you burrow further into her arms, the stress crease between your eyebrows that has become a permanent fixture on your face finally relaxing. As she watches you, the captain knows what she needs to do. “I’m getting you out of that house. You’re going to come live with me, and we are going to figure this out. Together.”

---

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[curvykittyyssmutfics]

o.k I am a fan of bruce wayne/batman, so i would like you to write where bruce wayne has a short-size bossy assistant, reader who knew about his batman vigilante secret and he has a secret crush on him. She teased him, one day wearing a short skirt in a hot summer, made him want to bang her against the office table

The Proposal

So estastic to finally have a night off work, I enthusiastically hum while the evening news plays low in the background as I put the finishing touches on my look. Running my fingers through my long, soft, dark tresses, I twist left and right to asses my sultry outfit through the body length mirror on the wall of my bedroom. I do one spin, then another, smirking at the way my mini skirt barely covers my plump chocolate rear.

I cannot believe Bruce is actually gonna let me outta his sight for more than 2 seconds. It's a God damn miracle and I plan on shakin my ass with my girls all night while sippin the fruitiest dranks I can buy. That is till I hear my phone vibrate and beep from my vanity beside me, notifying me of an incoming text. Hmm.. Need I guess who the fuck that is? I roll my eyes as I grab my phone and see a text from Bruce Wayne tellin, not askin, me to come do his bidding.

Bruce: Hey, honey. Come by the office round 10 tonight and drop of the proposal we've been working on.

Seriously? It was my first night off in 2 weeks and here's comes the infamous Batman, swoopin in to destroy my plans. So, his sexy ass refuses to fuck me and release the tension from years of workin under him but not letting me actually be under him- yet commands I wait on him hand and foot.

My eyes almost tear up from the immediate disappointment and frustration I feel. Not being dicked down in over a year was making my need for a good fuck damn near animalistic. The concept of a fun evening with the possibility of gettin some dick, since Bruce's fine ass ignored each and every one of my filthy advances, is now completely ruined; makes me have to take a deep breath before I pick up my glitter encased cellphone.

Me: Whyyyy? This is the only night I have off for like another couple of weeks and I have plans. Can't you reschedule?

His response back is lighting fast and I can't help but give a small giggle as I imagine his sexy stern ass all frowned up, nostrils flaring at the prospect of me not givin in to his demands instantly. Bruce isn't the kinda man that likes to be told no. Plus, the proposal we'd recently been working on was imperative to the deal he was currently trying to close. Still, I wouldn't be me if I didn't turn into a full blown brat with him for impeding my plans.

Bruce: Late night meeting, no cannot reschedule. Also, thought you said you were staying home tonight..

Me: Omfg Bruce. My girls begged me to go out tonight so I changed my mind! Didn't know I had to goddamn call and let you know.

Jesus did this man have to always interrogate me on every aspect of my life? He knows everything about me- though it was fair to say I knew him almost as well as Alfred. And it was kinda exciting to secretly know about his extracurricular activities, even if that had less to do with any honesty on his part and more to do with my snoopy ass overhearing a heated conversation between him and his long time friend about hanging up the the towel.

Bruce: Well now you know, sweetheart. What time will you be here?

Condescending bastard! He really never has a doubt that he can bend me to his every whim and normally he fucking can but it's time to get a rile outta him.

Me: Well if I gotta cancel my plans to get some fuckin dick tonight then I think I'll take my sweet fuckin time!

His response isn't as quick this time but it's short enough to know I ticked him off. Serves him right, his 'I can't have you but nobody else can' attitude was tiring.

Bruce: You have 15 minutes.

I roll my eyes at his attempt to scare me as I pull up the Uber app and tap in his office's address. Before I can confirm I hear a firm knock on my apartments front door and Alfred's voice speaking loudly from the other side.

"Ms. y/l/n, Mr. Wayne has sent me to come get you. I've recently been updated that he's in no mood to be kept waiting."

Uh oh, perhaps I should've thought this through. I'm not sure how mad he is or what he'll say when he sees me and now I'm directly and knowingly heading into to the lions cage.

"Coming!" I yell back, grabbing the file from drawer and heading for the door.

30 mins later

I exit the elevator and quickly rush to the where Bruce waits for me, catching a glimpse of my reflection through the glass walls of the other conference rooms. I wish I had time to change the skimpy outfit adorning my frame, doing nothing to contain my juicy ass cheeks as I lightly jog to the room where the meetings being held.

I don't bother knocking, quickly entering the room silently. Walking up behind Bruce sitting like a king at the end of the table as he talks on his cellphone, leaning back lazily in his chair with spread legs. His hips flex in his crisp midnight blue suit as he readjusts himself in his seat. The hefty bulge between his legs draws my eyes for a hot second as he spins slowly in his chair to look at me.

It's as if in an instant he's hungry, eyes sharply roving over every inch of me as he licks his lips sensually. He openly stares at the way my mini skirt barely covers my bottom, how my sheer top does nothing to hide my puckered nipples. The loud expletive he groans out as he eyefucks me goes straight to my empty core, has my abandoned, untouched little hole fluttering as I start to get wet.

"Nah I'm good, stomache ache. Let them know who you're here for when you arrive and someone will let you up. We can go over the proposal and see if you agree to the terms."

Bruce hangs up and sets his phone on the long light brown table that stretches across the room as he looks at me slowly from head to toe; wide dark brown eyes that linger at my plump tits and curvy hips. His mouth open and closes a few times, his shoulders now tense as hell as he sits stiff in his seat and stares at my outfit.

"You really are a fuckin brat, you know that? Did I not fuckin tell you to be here in 15?" He snarls at me, quickly standing to grab the file from between my fingers and toss it next to his phone.

The aggressive action has me swiftly backing up, not being able to take more than few steps before my back hits the wall. Absolutely shocked at the way he stalks towards me, arm quickly stretching out to grip my throat. One of his thick eyebrows remain raised as he waits for me to respond.

"I'm sor- sorry, sir. Traffic-" I stutter out, voice low.

"Yeah the fuck right, dont gimme that bullshit. We both know you think you can say and do whatever the fuck you want with me and I'm not into that, sweetheart. Unless you count me enjoyin punishing your pretty ass for it." He tells me, leaning so close that the tips of our noses almost touch.

My heart pounds as his hand squeezes a bit firmer at my neck, the other smoothing down the side of my tits and torso to my hips and thick brown thighs. The bulky protrusion between his legs presses against my center, makin me weakly grasp at his suit jacket as I lewdly hump at him.

"You look so damn gorgeous rubbing against me like this. Almost distracts me from the fact that you left your house dressed like a fuckin whore."

The mean words and sharp smack to the inside of my thigh makes me yelp his name pathetically; has me spreading my legs as I try to fuck him through his clothing, already so damn close to beggin him to touch me. The sting of the slap is so welcoming, has my eyes and pussy simultaneously getting wet.

"Look at you, tiny little fuckin skirt.. Bet you woulda showed off all my fuckin curves tonight huh? Would done more than that. What didcha say earlier? You had plans to get some dick tonight?" He asks me, pressing me closer between him and the wall.

Bruce smells so fuckin good, the clean smell of a fresh shower and his Burberry cologne mixing deliciously. That plus the shock of his abrasive approach quickly culminates into wanton need. I can't care that I'm already rendered speechless, that I can only gasp for air like a fish outta water at his filthy words.

"You sure fuckin do. But now you wanna be quiet, cant even answer cause your slidin that little pussy allover my lap. Now you wanna act like your my good girl. Actin like your nothing more than my own little slut. Cant take you constantly goading me into fucking you whenever you see me. I can't goddamn take it anymore!"

He lets go of my throat to drop to his knees and lift my mini skirt up. Doesn't waste a second pulling my silky baby blue thong to the side and slurping at the opening of my pussy. I wail as he messily licks inside of me, his tongue jabbing repeatedly to get inside. Nails of both hands scratching at the wall behind me, I come unglued at the intense pleasure he suddenly forces on me.

"Plee- ahhh! P-pleeeeeea-se! Haah, uhnuhnuhnuhn Bru- ah!!" I stutter out my pleasure as I look down and meet his eyes.

The way he takes me in as he devours has me trembling even more against his mouth. As much as I need this, I'm too fucking sensitive. From the way Bruce stares as he eats me it's obvious he knows; is fucking using it to his advantage as his grips each of my ass cheeks and pulls me onto his mouth and fucks me with his tongue as deep as he can. His filthy moans about how good I taste but how bad I am are muffled against my cunt.

His right hand slides down my smooth brown skin, rubbing and groping my thick thighs. He sensually massages down my leg to my calf before slowly making his way back up to my clenched cheeks. A hard smack resonates through me and I shove upwards off his mouth from the impact. His answering growl as he pulls me backs down is clear: don't fucking pull away again.

"Toomuch! Ohohoh pleeeeeeease Bruce!"

He sends me into a blissful spiral, the intense sensation spiking in my core. I'm begging for the torture to end, for him to make me cum. But he only wiggles his tongue inside me widly as he moves his hands to my pussy lips and spreads them wider so he can get deeper.

My eyes must be at the back of my skull from the force of how they roll eye back. I wordlessly plead for reprieve, which he seems to only delight in. He chuckles heartily into the pink of me as he leers at my tits jiggling underneath my shirt.

I'm sure my souls about to rip out my body when I feel his thumb lightly swipe at my throbbing clit once. The tumultuous orgasm tumbling to the surface frightens me, has me seriously doubting my endurance to take it. So it's no fault of mine that I tug at my bosses short brown locks, ripping his swollen lips from my frantically pulsating pussy. He stares at me through narrowed eyes, his straight nose inna prominent snarl as I apologize profusely.

"Imsorryi'msorryi'msorry!" I rush out with heavy breaths and a heaving chest.

"No the fuck you're not, goddamn brat." He spits out as he stands and lifts me up against his strong chest with hands to the back of my thighs.

Walking me to the conference table, Bruce's sits me down atop it. He says nothing, towering above me as he looks down at while unbuckling his belt. His stare is lecherous while unbottoms his pants, so god damn domineering as he pulls out his twitching monster cock and presses it through the wetness between my legs.

It's not gonna fit, no way it'll fit. His dick is to thick, somehow his tip flaring out to become even wider. It's fuckin scary and thats without describing the girthy shaft. Still, I moan at the breathtaking feeling of him tappin the head at my opening. Even though my sweaty body is tense, my insides quiver rapidly hoping to catch his tip.

"I have a proposal for you too, y/n.." He leans in close to whisper against my lips, blocking me from the view of his fat cock at my entrance. "Your gonna take this dick like a good girl and I might not fuck your pretty little mouth and bust down your throat till your unconscious. You agree to the terms?"

I nod slowly, helplessly, my gaze briefly straying to his swollen mouth. Knowing how he ate me moments before and the way he damn near pins me to the table now that he's not letting me go till he's done.

"Look at you being a good girl for once." He compliments, smacking my sensitive clit with his rigid dick over and over.

My eyes roll back as I shout Bruce's name repeatedly, feeling my orgasm race back to the surface with double the intensity. My frame shakes like a leaf underneath him as my back arches and I dig my nails into the wood table beneath me. My mean ass boss only slaps his dick at my pulsing little gem quicker, drinking in my frantic reaction.

He greedily soaks in my pitiful body in the throes of the best orgasm I've ever received. The smile on his face is sinister, so damn dangerous as he replaces his dick with his thumb, sliding the head of his dick to my opening and shoving between my drenched, unprepared fluttering walls.

Time almost seems to stand still, as my lids fly open and I choke, trying and failing to pull in a gasping breaths against his pretty pink lips as he bullies his cock into my pussy while I'm still cumming. He groans like a wounded animal and I'm fucking alarmed that he actually gets in on the first push, though no explanation is needed for the unbearable pressure weighing in my gut.

My legs kick out behind him uncontrollably while I grip onto his suit jacket for dear life and stare at him with big teary eyes. Try as I might to inch off Bruce's cock by scooting backwards, I don't get very far before he's gripping me and pullin me back onto his leaking dick by my neck again.

"Keep. Fuckin. Still!"

Each word accentuated by him sliding in and out of my little hole. His other hand holds himself above me as he fucks into me roughly. My head thrashes side to side as I apologize nonstop. Hair from my two buns loosens and falls, sticking to the perspiration on my face.

"Oooooooh fuck, I can't believe I waited so loooong! Ah, ah, ah, pussyfeelssogood! Uhn, fuck y/n! Not gonna last, too damn tight.. so weeet! Haaaaah!"

His cock digs deep, finally in a bit more than half way as he pumps into me ferociously. It's so fuckin amazing, nothings ever felt so good, so intense. I light years beyond coherence as drool unknowingly seeps from the corner of my mouth as I share my pleasure into the air. All my strength is split between processing the sensations between my legs and breathing.

"Fuuuuuck, sweety.. Gonna make me nut so damn hard. You want that? Fill that pretty little pussy till I can't anymore?

Bruce's grip around my throat tightens and it's a bit hard to breath but my normal reaction of instant panic is delayed by the dizzy feeling filling my head. I'm unaware of the suffocating clenches my pussy gives the big dick invading my insides as he huffs and puffs his pleasure at my ear.

"Ooooh shit, your so perfecttome! Haaaa! Mmmm sweetheart, made for me huh? Uhn, thaaaas a good fuckin girl!"

His back hunches him over my body as he stabs in to the hilt, grinding his pelvis into mine as holds my seizing body to the table. The sudden unlimited pressure against my button sends me off; I take in as much air as I can unaware that my hips lightly hump back at him. Black and white spots dot in and out of my vision as the pressure in my tummy explodes through my battered cunt.

I squirt all over Bruce's suit, sliding my hands through his freshly cut hair down his neck to claw at his thick, muscular shoulders. His name is all I know as I desperately cry it out more times than I can count. No man has fucked to the point of tears and I'd tell him that if I could formulate sentences at the moment.

But I know he's in the same boat as his fingers loosen around my neck and he bites his lip hard, eyebrows drawn together from the way my pussy milks the cum from his cock.

"Oh heeell.. Fuuuuuuuuck, take it honey! Aaaaahhh, that's it, allforyouy/n! Take this nut like a gooooood giiiirrrrl!" He groans, eyes locked where we connect as he continuously pumps into me at his leisure.

It feels foreign but oh so fuckin welcoming as large splashes of cum gush my already soakin wet pussy. My needy insides clasp at Bruce's cock as if demanding he shoot more. He definitely fulfills his promise of stuffing my puffy cunt till she leaks.

"Mmmmm.. oh my fuckin God princess. You okay?" He asks between tiny grunts of pleasure, his hips still slowly pumping his cock into me.

I'm not sure how he expects me to answer; my lungs feel tight and my head is so fuzzy. I fight to steady my breathing, fingers remaining inna death grip around his shoulders. I finally feel the heavy trails of make up streaking down my chest and my wavy hair sticking to my sweaty temples. I know I looked fucked out to the max.

I can't even muster energy to cover myself as my head falls limply to the right and I see a group of men staring lewdly at us through the glass walls, each with a tented bulge in their business attire.

Bruce's phone beeps at that moment and he leans over slightly to read the text aloud.

"We agree to your terms of the proposal." He says with a dazzling smile.

Yeah, I fucking bet..

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back): Soft 🔞

It's his favorite word to describe you.

Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute, smut in this, manhandling, he cums inside but she's got an IUD please practice safe bed-athletics thank you, we explore Jungkook's hidden kinks together haha

Length: 1.4k Words

Masterlist

A/N: There's still no taglist.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

Soft.

It's the perfect word to describe you, in his opinion. From your skin to your hair to the way you smell or touch him. Soft.

It's been a little over half a year since dating you, and there's already been changes happening with him. His mom had noticed the way he carries himself changing, had told him earlier this week how much confidence he'd apparently gained- and it had been then that he'd told her he's finally found a girlfriend. He's never brought anyone over to his parents before, way too worried about how it might look like if he and his partner would change frequently, just because he's not good at choosing the right people to surround himself with. So, revealing that he's got a girlfriend had been a huge thing to his entire family.

But he doesn't actually feel worried at all. You're the sweetest thing he's ever met- it's just the first impression you give that can sometimes be a little too bold.

But he doesn't mind any of your antics. You're honest- and he appreciates that.

And he can't deny that your love isn't exciting in other ways, too.

You've made a joke about him being the best lover you've ever had up until this point- but from the way you arch your back and close your eyes, he's got to believe that there was some truth to it. You're completely out of it, underneath him as he thrusts his hips into yours, hands on your thighs keeping you in place for him. They're soft, too- just like the sounds you make.

He's become more comfortable and confident in that aspect, too. Sex.

It's been somewhat of a necessity almost in past relationships- something he'd want to have over and done quick with the lights off because it's just awkward. Everything about it was awkward to him- from the noises to the smell to the act in general-

But with you? It changed. Awakened something even.

You're addicting, in the way that you're just so raw and unfiltered. You don't hide any side of yourself, you're bold and bright and colorful and confident, and you're just so fucking pretty to him that it makes his head spin.

The first time with you had been a little awkward. The second time after, it was a bit more relaxed. On the third, he'd jumped over his shadow and eaten you out for the first time in his life.

And oddly enough, that had changed something within him.

Ever since then, he'd become experimental. Sex in the shower, a handjob in the bathtub, taking you in the back of his car, or buying a remote controlled vibrator for you online just because. He can never just leave it at something simple anymore, has to take you until his body gives out, has started to imagine things one dirtier than the next.

Especially after yesterday, when you'd told him nonchalantly how your IUD insertion had been the most cruel and painful thing you've ever had to go through- and after some questions of his own, he now knows that you still have it.

And right now, he's in bare, without any condom, and he wants, no needs to see that scene that had been haunting his dreams last night in real life for himself.

It had been a thought in his head for a while now. His main fantasy he'd think of whenever he was trying to get off by himself.

And it worked every single time.

"Can I-" He presses out between his teeth, slowing down for just a moment to lean down and kiss your neck, giving you a second to collect your thoughts back again as you squirm, legs wrapping around him as you try and move on your own. "Can I cum inside?" He asks, and you nod instantly.

"Yes, Jungkook just- just move!" You whine, trying to move your hips, but one of his hands instead pushes them down into the bed, your strength not enough to go against him. "Fuck you-" You start to complain, but he's got the audacity to chuckle.

"Though you wanted me to fuck you?" He jokes, and your eyes tear up in frustration, making him move his hands to instead hold your cheeks as he kisses you-

Hips slowly picking up pace again.

"Don't worry, princess-" he hums, making you hold onto his forearms as if to need something to keep you grounded. "-I never let you down, do I?" He wonders, and you nod, quietly. "I always take good care of you, don't I?" He asks, pushing his hips in deep before he stays there. "Right?"

"Yes!" You whine, nails digging into his skin a little as he laughs again, leaning back to straighten his back out, hands grabbing your thighs. He finally moves again, rolls his hips into yours while holding your legs again, skin slapping loudly against skin, but he doesn't care.

All he can see is your back arching, your head pushing back into the pillows, your tits rhythmically swaying up and down with every thrust he delivers. It's a sight he never wants to ever forget, a sight he knows he's blessed enough to witness.

It's a sight that's his to see. It's a sight that only belongs to him. He's never really thought about it, hasn't really been considering him possessive or anything- after all, you're a free spirit, and he allows you to do whatever, really. You can dress how you want, you can playfully flirt with your friends if you like, it's not a big issue to him.

Maybe because at least up until now, he's not really felt like anyone had truly challenged the idea of him being together with you. There's not been any instance of someone trying to take you away from him.

And maybe once that happens, his mind will change a bit.

But right now, he's got you, right in his hands. Right now, you're undeniably his as he clenches his jaw, watches you come undone underneath him, thighs trembling under the force of your orgasm, before he pushes himself in deep, throwing back his head himself for a moment as he reaches his peak as well.

The room is filled with the sounds of your shared heavy breaths, before he pulls out, his own chest still rising and falling with deep breaths. He can't help but reach out as he watches your clenching core, fingers spreading you open for him to see as you jump a little, still sensitive-

but he soon notices the way you move your hips again, toes curling as his thumb begins to more gently coax another, last orgasm out of you-

and then, it happens.

As soon as you come undone, he watches almost hypnotized how his cum starts to run down your core, and it's such a scandalous sight- no porn he's ever watched coming close to this.

"Kook, I'm gonna leak on the bed-" You whine tiredly, as he barely catches what's running down your leg, before his hand pushes it back in, while he leans over your body, kissing your lips, before he moves to your neck, making you giggle as the tips of his hairs tickle your skin.

"Better keep it inside then." He hums against your neck, and you dramatically whine at that.

"Kook please, I'm gonna die!" You complain, and he laughs.

"What?" He chuckles. "I'm just saying." He shrugs.

"You're making me horny again, please stop you demon!" You argue weakly, wrapping your legs around his waist. "Now get off me so I can go pee." You say, and he nods with a smile.

"You better keep it in though, or you might get it on your pretty carpet-" He teases-

a slap sounding through the room as you playfully hit his thigh, making him laugh while he watches you run to the bathroom with one hand between your legs.

[bluetorchsky]

Birthday Thoughts

I just ramble about stuff since it's my birthday today. I'll put it under a read more but like, TL;DR: I want to keep growing and keep finding the bits and pieces of who I am, keep loving the person that I am, and be kinder to the person (me) who does and tries their best no matter what.

*blows party maker* Happy Birthday to me! I'm gonna be spending the day by myself, just going out and doing stuff. But it's gonna be a good one, I know it.

Another day, another year where my age ticks up another number. It's been one hell of a year since my last birthday and just, a lot of stuff has happened. Usually stuff happens but like...it definitely felt a lot more than usual. I just felt a lot of stuff, I did a lot of stuff in regards to work and school, even if I didn't finish school.

I don't really see myself going back to college or university at this point, just to take a course that might get me in a career that's not needed anymore. It's also been really stressful, and I think I'm just not ready to be back there. Which is totally fine, I need a break from it. Sometimes I do feel bad for not completing any of the courses in Animation, but it just didn't really click with me at all. The technically stuff stumped me, but doing character designs and what not (except layout) is what I liked doing better.

Still, I'm not about to throw more money just to take another course. At this point, I just want to take it day by day and try and enjoy the time I have. Even when I'm dealing with customers almost every day, I'm at least in a department where I don't always have to do that, heh.

I would love to learn more skills in art, but I also want to get back to writing. The last fic I did "You Are Here (You Are Love)", I really felt proud writing it. I want to do more, I want to be able to write stories and create images in the minds of the readers, that at some point they will feel like they are there, even for just one second. It's ambitious, but it really just comes down to wanting to improve on my writing.

Another day, another year where I turn a year older and feel like it's any other day in my life. But at least I know that I have changed in some ways, that I have improved in some aspects of my life, that there are people who do look to me not just for help but because I'm their friends, and even though I try to be more than myself, I love the person who I am now. I love that I am still learning more about myself. I love that I can find a piece of me either in my family or friends.

I know there are days when I put myself under so much pressure and stress, that I'm never kind to myself if something goes wrong or what I say doesn't happen. I am only human, I can only do what I can do that is in my control. So I'll keep being who I am and continue finding out who I am.

I think I've yapped a bit too much, haha. So much I want to say, but I can't always say all of it. I do want to say thank you to those who speak and interact with me as mutuals or as friends. You guys really do mean a lot to me, and I know I would not have been able to do what I do without y'all there with your support. You all really mean a lot to me, I love ya guys.

[blues824]

If requests are open,

Please. MC that's like Malleus but without the royalty aspect. No friends but well mannered and respectful and all. Tries to look at the better side of life despite the loneliness nipping at their soul on okay days and hattering them on the very bad ones

With the brothers and the royals pls? If that's too much then the first 2-3 brothers and the royals

To speed this up, I will be doing the older brothers and the royals. I apologize. By the way, you’re still a dragon fae as well as a powerful mage in this.

Lucifer 

His interest started when you appeared. He could tell that you didn’t belong in any of the three realms, mainly because you suddenly appeared but also because you used a different kind of magic. Since he is a demon, he can sense it.

You were very polite towards each and every one of them. It was honestly refreshing to see someone so well-mannered. He honestly enjoys having conversations with you because it gives him a break from the headaches he calls his brothers.

Because you’re an exchange student, you get a lot of attention which isn’t something you’re very used to. You tend to stick by Lucifer’s side, which he is completely fine with, as you try and adjust to your new life as an exchange student in Hell.

He noticed that whenever he or someone else invited you out somewhere, you always got super excited. It reminded him of Cerberus as a puppy, before he was trained to be the menacing three-headed dog that he is now. He asked you about it and you told him that back in your world, everyone was scared of you because you were one of the most powerful mages. He’s rather sad to hear that, so he makes a conscious effort to involve you in as much as possible.

Speaking of, he is very impressed by your magical abilities. You explain that you were magical yourself, being a dragon fae and all. He noticed your horns, but never asked you to. It stated that you were a fae in your student profile, so there was no need to ask. He also knows that asking someone to help care for them or come close to them is a very personal and intimate thing, so when you asked him for help he was absolutely delighted.

That night, he brought out his demon form so that you wouldn’t be the only one who’s vulnerable and nervous. He asked you to help him clean his horns and his wings. It had you and him blushing a lot, but when he was helping you with yours, he pressed a kiss on each horn once he finished with them. It made you a flustered mess, and he decided to continue teasing you by taking your hand gently in his and pressing a kiss on the back of it.

Mammon

He was surprised to see that you weren’t scared of him. I mean, they were demons after all! But you held a graceful (and probably practiced) smile as you were introduced to each and every one of the brothers as well as the other exchange students, Diavolo, and Barbatos.

He probably thought you were stuck-up or something when you showed perfect manners. However, it hadn’t ever changed even in the time you’ve been there. You were one of the only people who was kind to him, so he became attached.

Since you were both attached to the hip, Mammon loved taking you out and spoiling you whenever he could. He also loved that you would stick close by him because you were still trying to adjust. He was helping you, so it made him feel good inside.

You told him one night when you both went on a drive that you were almost never included in activities back in your world because you were a very powerful mage, and that made Mammon sad to hear as well. He promised that he would hang out with you as much as possible so that you never felt lonely ever again.

Speaking of being a powerful mage, Mammon will try to use you as his ‘secret weapon’, as if you were his Pokemon in a Pokemon Battle. It’s amusing, but you always step to the side to up the comedy for yourself instead of actually defending and protecting him.

One day, Mammon busted into your room while you were taking care of your horns and he could see that you were having a bit of trouble. He asked if he could help and you blushed while nodding. His hands were actually pretty soft and gentle as he tended to your horns, all while teasing you about how red your face was.

Leviathan

For someone as intimidating as you were, he didn’t expect you to be so polite and kind. What was weirder was that you weren’t scared of being an exchange student in Hell while living in a house with 6 (remember, he didn’t know Belphie was in the attic at this point) demons.

He was a bit wary when you were acting so polite and kind towards him. His brothers usually just brushed him off, so it was unusual to see someone act so compassionate and considerate towards him. He absolutely loved it.

You got so happy whenever someone invited you somewhere, and it made him incredibly jealous. He should be the only one bringing you such big amounts of joy. So he invites you to a bunch of anime and cosplay events as well as takes you out every once in a while. You loved the new experiences, so you were happy to go.

One day, after walking back from one of your outings, you mentioned how you were never invited to anything back in your world because everyone was scared of the power you had as one of the most powerful mages in your world. He chose to be alone so he doesn’t really understand, but it still made you sad which made him sad in turn.

However, he was intrigued when you told him about you being a powerful mage. You added that you were a dragon fae so you were magical yourself. He already had noticed your horns considering they were protruding from your head, but he brought out his demon form and showed you that he also had horns but he also had a tail as well.

He knows how intimate it is to touch someone else’s horns. He barely lets his brothers help him with his horns, so you know it’s a serious matter when he asks you to help him. He pressed his face into your stomach as you stood and gently tended to his horns. His breath stopped when you pressed a kiss to his left horn, and his face quickly turned red.

Diavolo

He was very excited to meet you. This was the first step in many to uniting the 3 Realms, and you seemed just as happy once he had explained everything. He had to admit that your smile was absolutely gorgeous.

He was brought up to be respectful and polite, so he reciprocates your amicable and cordial disposition. A lot of people act this way towards him because of his position as the Prince of the Devildom, but you seemed very genuine in your actions.

Considering he was raised a single child, he understood your excitement whenever you were invited somewhere. He loves to invite you over for a picnic or a walk in the castle gardens just so the two of you could enjoy each other’s company.

You both just totally connected. As a powerful mage of the Briar Valley, you swore your service to the Royal Family and were therefore raised alone so that you could practice your magical skills. It did make Diavolo sad that such a wonderful person such as yourself had to experience the pain of loneliness, but you didn’t need to experience it anymore since you had him now!

You both were very powerful in many ways. You were a dragon fae and he was the son of the Demon Lord (and he was a demon himself). Your magic was more mystical while his was more satanic (get it?) and therefore you were able to do many different things. He loved ‘showing off’ what he could do because he loved trying to impress you.

When you text and ask him if you could come over so that he could help you with your horns, he blushes. Surely you were aware how special this was? Well, apparently you did because you were blushing the entire time. To make you a bit more comfortable (or to even the embarrassment), he transformed into his demon form and asked you to help him with his.

Barbatos

He was another one who was very intrigued at the lack of fear you had in response to being teleported to the Devildom, the Realm of Demons. You actually seemed excited to be here and be a part of accomplishing Diavolo’s dream.

As the butler of Diavolo, he is obviously well-versed in manners because he needs to maintain the young master’s image. He makes sure to greet you and bid you farewell at the beginning and end of every conversation the both of you have.

He knows that you have felt lonely and left out in your world, so he always asks if you would like to help him in the kitchen. He doesn’t have a ton of time to hang out with anyone, but this little bit of time spent with you making food hopefully makes you feel less lonely.

He used this time to get to know you more. After all, you didn’t hail from any of the usual 3 realms. You told him that you had come from Twisted Wonderland and were one of the most powerful mages there, and you swore your service to the Royal Family much like how he had.

You added that you were a dragon fae which gave you your horns and the ability to transform into a dragon so you could fight against powerful enemies. He found it extremely interesting because it’s not everyday you meet someone who could turn into an actual dragon.

Once, you asked if he could help you with your horns and he was honored. He knew how personal horns were, considering he helps Diavolo with his all the time. He gladly helps you, using a gentle but swift hand. He quietly chuckled at your blissful expression, but didn’t tease you about it.

[animeyanderelover]

May I request Chuuya, Dazai, and Tendou with an s/o who realizes that their partner is a yandere so they and talk then about an set up so ground rules such as no kidnapping but other then that they are fine with it.

I already did something really similar for Tendou in another request so I left him out.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, clinginess, stalking, paranoia, jealousy, manipulation

This is fine

Dazai Osamu

🤎 Honestly, he gives you credit for finding out since he's fooled almost everyone else so far with his sappy and charming facade. Dazai has a smile on his face for now although it does seem to your knowing eyes fake as he asks you what you plan to do now that you're aware, leans very close to you as both of his hands grab your arms in a tighter grip. You don't plan to leave him now, do you? There's something more malicious brooding behind his grin. One wrong word could lead to Dazai unleashing something no one would want to see. When you instead say that you want to sit down and talk with him about some things, he blinks at you confused before you drag him with you so both of you can sit down. You feel his eyes trying to drill through your soul, trying to read you. His grip on you is still tight, if you try to fool him so you can run away he won't let you.

🤎 When you start talking with him about rules you'd like Dazai to keep such as not killing others or kidnapping you, he's pleasantly surprised by how well you take everything. By the end of it he's chuckling amused, a lighthearted grin on his face. Dazai is honestly just absolutely ecstatic that you love the side of him that could easily crush your body and soul. Sufficient to say that Dazai adores his s/o even more after their confession. He dotes on them even more and starts worshipping them strongly since they accept everything about him. He also starts trusting you more and gives you slightly more freedom although he is still clingly and most of the time glued to your hip. Whether he sticks to your silly rules regarding hurting others or not is a mystery though. Obviously he doesn't want to upset his sweetheart but what you never know will not hurt you.

Nakahara Chuuya

🟠 Chuuya curses himself in his mind for slipping up to the point where his s/o found out although to be fair, he's a little hothead. He tries to brush it off as a joke and attempts to change the topic, distract you so you just forget it. His eyes narrow when you stay firm though, fists subtly clenching. What do you want to do now that you know the truth? Instead of trying to convince you that you're overreacting, Chuuya starts defending his behavior, tells you that he has done everything out of love for you, for your safety. He's about to ramble a bit, scared that you'll try to leave him but instead you just hush him. You only wish to set some conditions with him, a statement that leaves Chuuya baffled. He trails behind you so he can quickly block your route if you try to dash to the front door, his slight paranoia not eased just yet.

🟠 He's even more perplexed when you explain your rules to him. That you just don't want him to abduct you or hurt innocent people but that you're otherwise completely fine with his possessive streak and clinginess. Technically he knows that his behavior is unhealthy but he is far too flustered in that moment by your confession to care. You love him unconditionally for every aspect for him and that knowledge causes his heart to swell with joy. Chuuya agrees to your rules, relieved that everything went so smoothly despite your awareness of the situation. He feels like he can be more open now without having to fear that you'd be scared of him, feels like the connection between you two is more intimate and stronger too. He spoils and loves you even more, tries to keep his short temper in check so you don't have to be sad and disappointed in him.

[zeke-in-devildom]

Dissonance - Chapter 26: Wrathful Hearts

The relief was almost immediate. Zeke felt his shoulders sag slightly the moment the cool Devildom night air hit him, releasing a tension even he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He could still hear the pounding music inside the club, but mercifully his body no longer felt like it vibrated through every one of his frayed nerve endings. The throbbing behind his eyes even subsided into a dull ache. 

It wasn’t a complete respite, however. Taking a deep breath of fresh air caused a twinge of pain in his chest, and before thinking about it Zeke had raised a hand to rub tenderly at the phantom wound that had not yet been sustained. How could possible futures cause him actual pain? Before coming to the Devildom his abilities had certainly caused him plenty of issues, but never like this. All his difficulties had been regulated firmly to his own mind and  the ignorance of the non-magical and mundane aspects of human society. He did not like these new developments.

There had to be a way to control this better.

“Are you alright? Does it hurt?” Satan’s concerned voice reminded him that he needed to keep his head firmly in the here and now. Zeke let his eyes flutter closed, brow furrowing as he brought his focus sharply to the present and away from distant futures that might never come. He used the warmth of the arm around his waist, holding him protectively, to anchor himself to what was real. 

“I’m okay. It’s just the stress of midterms, deadlines, and being outed. I’m exhausted.” All reasonable excuses and all true enough, but Zeke didn’t want to deal with the visions or try to explain them or how they were evolving. A part of him did consider telling Satan just to spite Barbatos and the butler’s warning to keep them to himself. The more reasonable part of him knew that there was no reason to stress or sadden the brothers with something they couldn’t actually help change or control. He would figure this out on his own.

“Excessive stress can cause many troubling symptoms in humans. If your stress has reached a level that you’re in physical pain perhaps we need to find a way to address that. As much as I hate to ask Lucifer for anything, I’m sure he could arrange for your school workload to be reduced if it is causing your physical health to deteriorate.” It was sweet, how attentive and worried Satan could get. 

“It’s fine, Satan. Midterms are over, my publisher has the final draft of my next book, and we can’t really change that everyone knows who I am now. I’m sure I’ll feel better if I just get a little rest.” He had only managed to get one halfway decent night of sleep since before midterms started, and that had only been thanks to Belphie’s intervention.

“Then I will make sure my idiotic brothers don’t bother you with their inane nonsense over the weekend.” It was adorable how very serious Satan could get, and he could appreciate the Avatar of Wrath’s sentiments. The brothers did tend to try to drag him everywhere and include him in everything all of the time. Zeke honestly appreciated that too. Satan himself had taken him to plenty of museums and art galleries since he had arrived. Still, being pulled in so many directions constantly was exhausting.

“My hero.” Zeke let a satisfied smile tug the corners of his mouth upwards as he watched the Avatar of Wrath’s cheeks flush a pretty shade of pink. 

“You’re too cheeky for a human.” Satan huffed, but his hand stayed against Zeke’s lower back as he guided the way back towards the House of Lamentation. For his part, Zeke was more than happy to walk in silence, close enough to feel the heat radiating off the demon beside him. Despite what he had said to Asmo in the club, he couldn’t help but gravitate towards Satan even if he knew it was foolish. Just getting to be this close to him would have to be enough, that was what he told himself, but deep down he knew that was a blatant lie.

He tried to distract himself by observing his surroundings. The lesser demons on the street gave a wide berth to the pair, none wanting to provoke the ire of Satan. Zeke could see the hunger radiating off many of them, they would gladly rip him to pieces in a heartbeat if he wasn’t with one of the brothers. It was a sober reminder that he was a sheep among wolves, helpless without one of his guardians. Except those guardians were also wolves. Every logical thing told him that he didn’t belong here.

Too bad the heart rarely listened to logic. All the visions of the future suggested that he would die sooner rather than later. Even if he lived to be old, it was nothing to them. Why did his gut tell him he was exactly where he was supposed to be when all the evidence was to the contrary? 

Zeke sighed and turned his attention away from the streets and up towards the Devildom sky. He could see the stars so clearly here, there was too much light pollution in the city he lived to actually see the stars in the human world. They reached the gates of the House of Lamentation. There was something particularly enchanting about the Devildom moon. It was hauntingly beautiful. He stopped walking so that he could stare up at it, feeling Satan stop beside him.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” The words left him without his consent, but he couldn’t find it in him to be upset about it either. Did Satan even know the significance of the words? Zeke could tell that the demon had fixed that intense emerald gaze on him, as he did so often when they were together, but he didn’t turn to look at him. He could imagine Levi absolutely losing it if he’d heard it. The otaku would have had a full-on nerd out, if he didn’t blue screen. That was actually an amusing thought. Except that was not something he would have ever said to Levi. Or any of the others for that matter. 

The silence stretched between them. 

“I can die happy.” Zeke felt his heart stutter as Satan’s normally smooth voice came out hushed and a little breathless. Of course Satan would know. Also leave it to Satan to give the most direct response possible. He liked that about him. Even if Zeke couldn’t read auras, he knew that the fourth born was not one to mince his words when it came to his feelings, unlike some of his other brothers. 

A warm hand brushed against his, Zeke finally turning to look at Satan as their fingers intertwined. He was surprised to see the familiar curling black horns of Satan’s demon form. Those green eyes were gleaming, full of starlight as they gazed at him with the softest, most adoring look - one he had thought only reserved for all the stray cats that the demon loved to feed. When something hard and cold curled loosely around his waist Zeke didn’t have to glance down to know that it was Satan’s armor plated tail.

“I’m only human.” They were being illogical. Satan had no good reason to care for him this much.

“I don’t care.” Zeke felt his heart flutter traitorously in his chest as Satan raised his free hand to cup his face tenderly.

“I’m not going to be here very long.” This could never last.

“All the more reason to take advantage of the time we have.” Zeke closed his eyes as he felt Satan press their foreheads together gently, careful of his horns. 

“Fuck it.” The moment he felt Satan’s lips brush against his, the entirety of the three realms faded away. The kiss was perfect. It was tender and sensual, Satan’s lips were warm and surprisingly soft, and they slotted against his like they were made to be there. 

Zeke really was only human, how could he possibly resist the temptation of a demon? Whatever the future might be, right now all he wanted was to be with Satan. Maybe that was selfish when he knew it could only end in tragedy, but he desperately wanted to be selfish this time.

The world came rushing back when the kiss finally ended, Zeke wasn’t sure if it had been a few seconds or a few minutes, but they were both breathing heavily. It was good to know the demon was as affected as he was. He enjoyed how flushed Satan’s handsome face was, and how his pupils were blown wide with desire. There was a sense of pride there, he, a lowly human, had the Avatar of Wrath wanting him.

“Make a pact with me.” The words flew from Zeke’s mouth, like the confession it felt so right that he couldn’t control his own voice. All of the brothers had offered him their pacts, all but Satan, but it was Satan’s he wanted most of all.

Rather than words, his demon responded by moving his hand from Zeke’s jaw to grasp the back of his neck and forcefully pull him back into another, deeper kiss. A low growl rumbled through Satan’s chest, which Zeke was now pressed flush against as his mouth opened, their tongues tangling together. One of his hands had found its way into blond hair, twisting the messy strands between his fingers and giving gentle tugs as he tried to pull Satan impossibly closer.

A shock of infernal magic wove around them, he could feel the now familiar tingle racing across his tongue, his piercing clacking briefly against a sharp fang as a faint coppery taste blended with the tang of demonus that lingered on Satan’s tongue. He felt taloned fingers dig just a little harder into his neck, and realized that the Avatar of Wrath was squeezing over Lucifer’s mark. His heart ached as he realized the jealousy and insecurity that Satan was feeling as Lucifer’s mark had been placed first. Zeke bit the demon’s bottom lip to distract him, which must have worked because the grip on his neck loosened immediately.

Bracing himself for the next part he wondered for only a moment where Satan’s pact mark would etch itself into his flesh. The sudden burning sensation over his heart seemed so obvious in retrospect. That was the only fitting place for the mark of Wrath to sit. He broke the kiss so that he could bury his face against the side of Satan’s neck, sagging against his beautiful demon as the infernal magic dispersed, seemingly taking most of his energy with it. Forging the pacts was always so draining.

Strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close for the time being, both just basking in the afterglow of the kiss and the new pact. Zeke didn’t know exactly how long they stood there, but eventually he felt Satan pull away. He missed how warm he was, but not for long, because suddenly his feet were off the ground as Satan picked him up, cradling him like a princess from one of the demon’s cheesy romance novels. If it was anyone else he’d have been indignant about being carried, but he was feeling just tired and sappy enough to allow it. 

They ended up curled up on one of the library sofas in front of the fireplace, Zeke sprawled out on Satan’s chest while the demon quietly read aloud, holding the book with one hand and gently running the other through Zeke’s hair soothingly until they both eventually fell asleep.

[hindahoney]

I've had this question for a while, and Google is useless. Can you help (or redirect me to someone who can?)? I am Sicilian and I have spent the last 5 or so years of my life working to reconnect to my culture and heritage (I grew up/live abroad). It is imperative to me that I live my life with a connection to Sicily and Sicilian culture because I didn't grow up with it and I want to stay connected to my ancestors and history. However, I'm considering converting to Judaism. Judaism has deeply affected Sicilian culture and plays a big but unspoken role in Sicilian culture and identity, from customs to food to how we decorate our religious places. If I do convert, would it be possible to be both Jewish and Sicilian? I don't want to sacrifice my culture for my faith, but I will hybridize the two if possible.

This is a complicated question, and I think my answer isn't going to be the most well-rounded because I'm not intimately familiar with Sicilian culture. This might be a better question for @spacelazarwolf, as I know that they are Italki. I'd like to preface this by saying that if you were to ask another Jew you'd probably get a different answer (and if someone disagrees with me, feel free to reply with your own answer, I'm sure more answers would help anon). I'm relatively traditional, so my answers reflect this.

I know that Jews have maintained a presence in Italy for centuries, so I have no doubt that Italian culture has at least been somewhat shaped by Judaism, though I can't imagine by much considering most of the country is Roman Catholic. There are no rules saying that you cannot maintain your own ethnic identity and culture along with your Jewish identity. Jews exist in every multitude you could think of, so it's certainly possible and allowed for you to have two identities at once.

What I question, though, is how you would hybridize a predominantly roman Catholic culture with a Jewish one, and more than that, why you would want to. Converting to Judaism is a complete lifestyle change and is incredibly difficult, it's something that you need to really want and be willing to do almost anything for. If you are already saying that you aren't willing to sacrifice for it, it makes me wonder if it's necessarily for you. Which is fine, you can appreciate and learn about Jewish culture and religion without converting. There is an aspect of Judaism that encourages (some would even say requires) a rejection of assimilation into any outside culture, and is something that is stressed in the Torah numerous times. Now, actually enacting this rejection is complicated, as we don't realize just how much the hegemonic culture affects us, but depending on the movement you're converting to I imagine more right-wing sects of Judaism would have an issue with a convert who wanted to convert to Judaism just to "hybridize" it to a separate culture they're trying to adopt. Traditionalists would say it's inappropriate and potentially disrespectful to go into a religion that has existed for thousands of years just to change it to what you want it to be, but others would argue that Judaism is constantly evolving, so there is space for you to be Jewish and whatever else you want to be, and that everyone's Judaism looks different.

So, TLDR: many Jews would not see a problem with this at all and say if you can find a balance, go for it. While others would say that when you convert to Judaism you, in many ways, reject your own culture in favor for another, and that Judaism should not just be part of your life, it should be your life. So, certainly, this depends on what movement you want to convert to, and while it's possible to convert to Judaism and also acquire a separate culture at the same time, some people would have a problem with this.

[ciel-bell]

My thoughts on Shinjiro and the changes made in P3P

I wrote this analysis to post on reddit, where I feel like the sentiment towards the changes made to Shinjiro's arc in Persona 3 Portable are more negative. But I thought it was worth posting here as well.

Long post under the cut:

(Major spoilers for Persona 3 up to October 4th.)

The changes that Persona 3 Portable made to Shinjiro and Akihiko’s arcs by allowing you to save Shinjiro from death are understandably controversial. I completely get why people don’t like that change, and think it cheapens the game’s messages of death or ruins Akihiko’s arc. However, I’d like to explain why I think it makes the story work better in other ways.

Persona 3 deals with the acceptance of our inevitable deaths, of course, but the enjoyment of the lives we have is a key part of this. The game tries to depict the dangers of not just accepting, but almost worshipping death through the Nyx cultists that show up later through the game.

Shinjiro’s outlook on life is not as extreme as these characters, but can still be compared to them. I think that he can be best compared to Chidori: both live their lives with the overwhelming knowledge of their imminent deaths, avoiding connection with others because of it. They’ve basically both resigned themselves to living as if they are already dead, with Chidori following Takaya’s orders and not ever considering another way of living; and Shinji not acting or helping SEES until his past regrets are staring him directly in the face, making him feel like there’s absolutely no other choice.

But while Chidori connects with Junpei and manages to feel the joy she’d pushed away, even if it’s only in the last few moments of her life, Shinjiro just… dies. He doesn’t have a moment where his views are questioned or challenged. He doesn’t grow past his passivly-suicidal mindset. His way of “living” is never questioned. He dies as he planned, even saying “this is how it should be” as his last words.

This is probably entirely intentional.

Shinjiro’s death serves as a cautionary tale for Ken on how his life could turn out if he keeps devoting himself single mindedly to hate and revenge, without letting himself live and love others. The resolution Shinji never got in life is transferred onto Ken.

However, I don’t think that this works as well as Shinji reaching that conclusion himself. Ken’s character arc is kinda... abandoned after this point? He comes to the conclusion that he wants to keep living in a way that Shinjiro didn’t get to, and then… that’s it. He’s pushed to the side for the rest of the game. (I feel like the movies fix this, but I want to focus on the games for now.) Ken’s social link in P3P tries to address this by focusing on him deciding what kind of life he wants to live as the next step of deciding that he wants to live. But, uh, the SL takes a turn at rank seven or so, messing with the development it was trying to set up, and cementing it one of the most uncomfortable social links ever lol.

In P3P’s main story Ken gets most of the same development that he gets in the other versions, but Shinjiro gets more character alongside him.

This character, whose every aspect is so intertwined with death and his coming end, from his Persona’s design to his relationships to others to his every line of dialogue, is forced to live. His social link is basically him getting his last will and testament in order. He tries to get the members of SEES to take care of themselves, because he knows no one else will do it when he’s not there. His second to last rank is just him asking Kotone to talk with him as long as possible, so that he can be content with that last happy moment with her before he dies. In his last rank, he asks Kotone to take care of Akihiko in his stead. And at that point, in his eyes, everything is done. He’s done all he can for SEES, for Ken and Aki specifically, and he trusts that Kotone will be fine and will still be happy after he’s gone. He’s even gotten back the watch that he was sure he’d never see again. The game makes this conclusion clear as well: you’re at Rank 10, so there should be nothing more to do. From a pure gameplay perspective, and from Shinji’s perspective, any other time you try to spend with him is a waste. If you try to talk to him after Rank 10, (only possible on 10/2 or 10/3, right before he dies) you get a message saying “It doesn’t seem that your relationship can get any closer than it is… Would you still like to spend time with him?”

His impending death and his acceptance of it are so baked into the narrative that the game itself seems confused that you’d try to keep spending time with him. Shinjiro, of course, repeats this sentiment.

But he spends time with you anyway, whether you do his romance route or not, defying the path that he’s set up for himself. He’s tried to exist in the world without really living in it, basically living through the most elaborate suicide plot in history, but strays for that for a moment because he’s grown to care for Kotone.

But it isn’t enough to change his outlook completely. During the romance scene, he says that “this isn’t how it’s supposed to be.” If you try to hang out with him the next day he basically refuses to talk to you, says that it would be a waste and that you should spend time with the others.

He is still resigned to his death, and acts in much the same way he does in Male MC’s route on 10/4. He still protects Ken, still gets shot, still says “this is how it should be,” a direct contrast to the line from the romance scene, and he… doesn’t die.

The one event in his arc that it seemed so sure everything was moving towards, and it doesn’t happen. He doesn’t die. Kotone’s actions flip everything on its head. The bullet is even blocked by the watch you have to give him before seeing Rank 10, an obvious physical representation of their relationship and how it's beginning to change his outlook.

Is this kind of cheesy? Maybe?

But I think that it’s also meaningful.

After that he basically vanishes from the story other than a couple mentions of him being in a coma for the rest of the story and a missable NPC on 3/3 saying that he got out of the hospital lol. This is kinda underwhelming.

BUT in new game plus there’s a conclusion to all of this! He shows up in the last moments of the game and finally gets to talk to Kotone again. He talks about how he saw Kotone in his dreams the whole time and it gave him the strength to keep going, a reversal of his line in the romance scene lamenting that she’s “all he can think about, day and night.” Then the game ends with him saying this:

“I’m glad I met you.”

This single line encapsulated so much of the game’s themes for me. He’s saying that he’s glad he didn’t die in that moment, that he’s gained a life worth living, that even if having known her brings pain in the future that it was worth it for what little time they got together. He’s learned once and for all that life is worth living.

We get none of that if he dies. Instead, we get a Shinjiro who, while compelling, acts as more of a plot device and a springboard for Akihiko and Ken’s stories than his own character. His original arc captures the inevitability of death, yes, but I feel like it missed the imperative component of the importance of life. So the existence of P3P as an alternate scenario where he is more fleshed out is valuable to me.

I don’t think these themes would have worked as well if the route we saw portrayed in P3P was the only version of the game. The fact that we see the flip side makes this version of Shinji’s arc stand out more. The fact that we’ve seen him die before highlights how fated it was to happen, and the wonderful anomaly that his second chance at life is.

However, while I think that Shinji’s survival improves his own arc, it does lessen the impact of Akihiko’s arc. Akihiko’s resolution was still undeniably meaningful to me as someone who started with FeMC’s route, but the original version of it probably works better. But I think it’s fine that the game trades Aki’s arc for Shinji’s in this way, as the original version of Aki’s arc still exists untouched in the male route. FeMC’s route is a complement, not a replacement. It does some things worse, and other things better in their place.

[roseworth]

vote in my poll boy but also im gonna skew my own results by giving my opinion. here’s my personal ranking of rose writers

sean mckeever: FRESH HELL <3 literally THE rose book. also tt03 #57 slayed. he ALMOST gets knocked down on the list because a) the fucking shitshow that was terror titans and b) he backtracked on like 3 different character arcs as soon as he started writing tt and it pisses me off. but he redeemed himself with fresh hell

geoff johns: i hate johns so much. but he solidified sooo much about rose as a character that he has pretty much the definitive rose. what he did completely defined rose's relationship with her father and her attitude towards the titans/being a hero in general. whether they realize it or not, every rose writer after johns is writing his version of her. as much as i hate him he is one of the best rose writers and i will stand by that

christopher priest: i have not made it a secret that i love ds16. there are some aspects of his characterization that i dont agree with but for the most part he killed it tbh. hating her dad but still coming back to him, loving her brother but still keeping him at arms length, HOSUN!!! HER HMONG FAMILY!!!!!!! ily priest

ed brisson: SLAY. the only reason he's not higher is because i dont like the fact in general that she chose to be on stormwatch (she would not do that), and he used baby rose in ktr and didnt even mention lili (and DID mention that foster family. im still mad). other than that!!! everything about her struggle to be a good person in batb was soooo good, and so much about ktr was so good for her <3 thank u mr brisson

marv wolfman: i feel a little bad not ranking him higher given that. he created rose. but she doesnt really do much in the issues he writes. which is fair given that she was a new character that was just made to hang around on the sidelines at the time, so theres not a lot to judge in his writing. but he definitely laid the foundation that johns expanded on, and he was the one that made her so uh thnx marv

jt krul: i wish he had gotten more time :( i wish he had gotten to do whatever he was planning with lili, i wish we could've gotten to see more of his rose. his rose was def a different take than before given that she was more... mellowed out ig? it was a lot more lighthearted, just her hanging out with the team, being an older sister to damian (<3), and looking for her mom. hes not my fav just because i like it when shes a crazy bitch instead of a normal girl, but i completely understand why people like his rose. not to mention tt03 #77-78 slays so unbelievably hard

jay faerber: NANNY ROSE <33333 i love love love rose in titans 99 <3 this version of rose is DRASTICALLY different than any other rose, which is the reason hes in the bottom half, but i like it in the sense that its nice to know that she was just hanging out in between the two worst things to ever happen to her (her mom dying & slade drugging her). rose with roy and lian lives rent free in my head every single day of my life i love it so much, also that issue with rose & toni was so fun. titans 99 rose you will always be famous

adam beechen: he is going to hell for what he did to cass but for rose? he was fine. he helped with that one really good wilson family arc (tt03 #43-46), and wrote the only pre-52 rose & jason interaction (#47) so he gets points for that. and batgirl 2008 was pretty good for rose. but unfortunately he just didnt make enough of an impact on me to be ranked any higher

matthew rosenberg: unfortunately im mentally ill so i have a detailed explanation of what i think of rosenberg's rose but the short version is: i like him, he writes a good rose. its fun, shes well-written for the most part, but there are some :/ parts about it to me. i think if he continues writing her he'd be ranked higher but for now hes sitting pretty near the bottom of the list

devin grayson: i used to really like devin grayson's rose but. i have since changed my mind. it doesnt feel like rose. this is NOT the rose that stabbed her eye out because she thought slade was disappointed in her! shes too Quirky Girl here even though this is theoretically during the period where shes being drugged (honestly. i dont think grayson actually knew about the super soldier serum. and if she did it does not show) and we've seen rose in this era in tt03 and bg00, and this arc does not read as the same character at all. it was a good arc for her, and she had a lot of good moments here! but the characterization overall wasnt great

joshua williamson: i won't go on a whole tangent about the way williamson writes but. he has no sense of character voice, his characters all feel like blank slates to get the plot across, there are no character decisions being made besides what's needed for the plot. theres not a lot that i can put my finger on and say that its bad, but there are so few choices being made that its hard to say anything about his rose. to put a completely different character in rose's place in robin 2021, all you'd have to do is switch a few words around. williamson uses a vague idea of who a character is to guide what he wants them to do, and all his characters come out shallow. his rose wasnt BAD but it wasnt good at all

scott lobdell: every day i blow on a dandelion and wish for scott lobdell to kill himself

[thnxforknowingme]

Christmas Eves (1/21)

Summary: Blaine makes a quick trip to Ohio to see his parents over Christmas. He certainly doesn't expect to run into his ex-boyfriend Kurt, or to reexamine every aspect of his life, but this Christmas Eve is full of surprises.

Rating: Let's say T? G or T.

Notes: I desperately wanted to participate in the December Klaine Fanworks Challenge this year, but have had no time for writing. This weekend I had a dedicated writing session with some friends and managed to complete chapters for 9 of the prompt words, so I think I have the momentum to actually write the whole story. Will it be done by December 21st, or even by Christmas? Almost certainly not. My quasi-reasonable goal is to get it all written and posted by the new year. Anyway, enough of my rambling - I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: Plead

Blaine slept in on Christmas Eve, groggy from travel and still accustomed to Pacific time. He woke up with the winter sun streaming through the window of his former bedroom, long turned into a generic guest room since he moved West for college. His mother had a passion for redecorating, and the room currently had a nautical theme - everything in shades of blue or white, boat motifs abundant, and a sign above the closet door proclaiming that You cannot control the wind, you can only adjust your sail.

He glanced at his phone, the calendar widget reminding him it was Christmas Eve, forecasting Christmas tomorrow and his scheduled flight back to LAX on the 26th. It was a short, perfunctory trip home for the holiday.

There was a knock on the door. “Blaine, honey!” His mother called. “Are you up yet? I need to run out for a few things, I’d love if you came along!”

Blaine dropped his phone onto the bedspread and squeezed his eyes shut, little starbursts appearing behind his eyelids.

“Just a minute!” he replied, and then rolled out of bed.

.

“Oh, this is nice,” Pam said, pausing by a display of velvety bathrobes in the department store they were exiting the mall through. “But I’ve already gotten you something cozy.”

Blaine resisted the urge to squeeze the cup of to-go coffee in his hand. His mother’s quick errands had turned into a trip to the mall, which was complete chaos as desperate shoppers searched for last-minute gifts and bedraggled parents lined up for hours to get their kids’ photos with Santa. Blaine was already nursing a headache and his mother’s words set off his internal alarm bells. “Please tell me you didn’t get me pajamas,” he said.

“It’s a tradition,” she replied simply, feeling the lapel on one of the robes and then continuing forward.

“Mom,” Blaine pleaded as they walked outside. “I told you this last year - I don’t need them. I don’t wear pajamas, and flannel is way too warm for Los Angeles anyway.”

His mother paused on the sidewalk curb, turning back to face him with an unconcerned smile. “Darling,” she said, reaching up to cup his cheek, “Let me have this, okay?”

Blaine took a deep breath. Arguing was apparently futile. “Fine,” he muttered, and set off towards the car.

.

Christmas Eve dinner was an elegant affair, but small. The next day they’d make the 40-minute drive to Blaine’s grandparents’ house, where other extended family would congregate, but tonight just he and his parents gathered around the dining table.

After saying grace and passing around dishes and complimenting the food, Blaine’s dad turned to his favorite topic of conversation - the importance of networking.

“Did I tell you my old classmate Andrew is going to be in LA next month?”

“Yes,” Blaine replied, “You copied me on an email to him.”

“Have you reached out to try and set something up? He owns a rental property somewhere out there so he might know someone useful in the industry. And he’d be a good connection for you to cultivate even if he doesn’t know anyone in film, if you were ever interested in changing directions.”

The only direction Blaine felt like going in now was far, far away from this conversation. He put on a polite smile and said, “I’ve been busy with the holidays, but I’ll make sure to reach out once I get back.”

“Good,” his father said. “Andrew was in my fraternity, we lived together my junior year. Have I told you the story about the Michigan game that year?”

Blaine had heard the story multiple times before, but he let his dad tell it again anyway, making sure to laugh and gasp in the right places. He had the wry thought that at least he was getting some acting practice, playing the role of an engaged, doting son.

.

At 10pm, Blaine grabbed his mother’s keys from the hook by the door and drove her car into town, parking outside the Watering Hole.

Blaine had never gone to bars much in Ohio - he’d moved away before he was 21, and had visited infrequently since. Sam had taken him to this place over a Thanksgiving break in college, and it seemed the kind of bar that would still be open on Christmas Eve. He just needed to be out of his childhood home, away from his parents and their expectations for an hour or two.

He went in and found it unexpectedly busy. Not crowded, but far from deserted. He ordered a beer and perched at an open table against one wall, where he could people-watch or stare at the TV behind the bar.

“Excuse me?”

Blaine turned towards the voice, and when he saw the man standing behind him, he felt like he’d taken a punch to the chest. It wasn’t pain so much as shock, the air temporarily knocked out of his lungs as he beheld the older - but definitely very recognizable - form of none other than Kurt Hummel.

[girlinlotsoffandoms]

day nineteen - ptsd

notes: for those who wanted a follow-up to 'presumed dead' and 'survivor's guilt', this one's for you

TW for (another) plane crash

read on AO3 or below

Trauma was a beast. It didn’t discriminate against who it affected or how, it just did. Trauma could (and would) change every aspect of your life. Trauma could make you unrecognizable.

Kelly Severide was completely different after the plane crash than he was before.

To the untrained, unfamiliar eye, Kelly seemed fine. He did his job to the level of excellence that was usually associated with him, he still hung out off-shift at Molly’s with the rest of the crew, he still taught classes at the Academy, and he still spent the rest of his free time with Stella. Those who knew Kelly, however, knew better.

They were aware of the nightmares and sleepless nights, how he often isolated himself in the firehouse, how he was quieter than usual, and how he was still attending regular therapy appointments of his own volition despite already being cleared by the CFD’s psychologist; they saw it all.

It has been six months since the plane crash and Kelly’s friends and teammates still struggled to find a way to help him. In the initial days after the accident and Kelly’s return to Chicago, the CFD chaplain and psychologist stopped by the station to help them all through the shock and trauma. The further removed from the situation they got, the easier it became to return to “normal”. 

But not for Stella. And definitely not for Kelly. Their “normal” died when the plane went down and now, they were grappling with what their new normal would look like.

It was a challenge they faced every day.

… … …

Kelly was having a good day—a good week—for the first time in months. He’d been sleeping better, was more talkative, and had even started teasing Capp again. It was a welcomed sight for his wife and teammates. 

But all good things must come to an end, as had been the usual for a while now.

It all started when Squad was called out with Squad 7 to a rescue on Lake Michigan. Dispatch had reported a crash and they assumed, at first, that a few boats had collided. Pulling up to the scene, they quickly learned that was not the case. 

There, slowly sinking in the water of Lake Michigan, was a small plane. One of the wings had already sunk below the waterline and the rest of the plane was sure to follow soon. There was no time to waste; if there were still survivors, they needed out as soon as possible.

Cruz, Capp, and Tony shared a look before looking at their Lieutenant. This call was going to be a hard one, one that was sure to stir up some very unpleasant memories. If he needed to sit this one out, if he needed them to step up, they would with no hesitation and with no judgment. Even the guys from Squad 7 shot a look to Severide–news of the plane crash and Kelly’s almost demise had quickly made the rounds through the CFD, as had the after effects on Kelly. The CFD rumor mill was strong and things like that tended to spread fast.

They all watched as Severide took a deep breath and steeled himself. In a surprise to no one, Severide jumped right into action and started dishing out orders and directions. Within seconds there were Squad divers and boats in the water heading towards the plane. 

… … …

It was a hard rescue, physically and emotionally. The damage to the plane was worse than they expected and of the six passengers on the plane, three were still alive but only one made it to the hospital alive. It wasn’t until after all the bodies and rescuers were out of the water that all of the victims of the crash were in the same family.

The ride back to the firehouse was a quiet one; no one spoke, no one made the usual jokes to help lighten the mood as they normally did after rough calls. There was a heaviness in the truck, memories of a situation so similar just a few months prior stirring up all too familiar feelings of grief that the loved ones of the victims lost today would be feeling.

When they pulled back into the station, Cruz, Capp, and Tony all climbed out of the truck as soon as it was parked. They were almost to the common room before they realized Severide wasn’t following them. Turning to look back at the Squad truck, they noticed Severide was still sitting in his spot in the passenger seat, staring off into space.

“Should we?” Capp asked, gesturing towards Severide and the Squad truck.

Cruz sighed and shook his head. “Give him a minute and we’ll send Stella out to talk to him.”

They continued into the common room where the rest of their teammates were.

“Hey! Squad’s back!” Mouch called out. “How was the call?”

The members of Squad sighed and collapsed into the first seat they could find. They were bone tired, not just from the physicality required during the rescue but the emotional drain as well.

“That well huh?”

“A plane crashed into Lake Michigan,” Cruz answered, blankly. “Six victims, all members of the same family. Only one made it to the hospital alive and it’s touch and go.”

The rest of the team sat up quickly in their seats at the mention of a plane crash. Stella, specifically, looked ready to throw up. All the fear and emotion from six months ago came flooding back at the mere mention of a plane crash. “Where’s Kelly?”

“He’s in the truck still.” Cruz started but before he could finish Stella was out of her seat and rushing to the truck bay.

The others watched her leave.

“How is he?” Boden asked, fully prepared to call in replacements for both his Squad and Truck lieutenants.

“He was great at the scene—collected and professional as always.” Tony answered.

Capp continued. “He kind of shut down in the truck on the way back though. Then again, we all did.”

“It shook him up more than he wanted us to see,” Cruz added. “And now that he doesn’t have a rescue to focus on, I think it’s all hitting him.” 

Boden nodded. He couldn’t imagine what the Squad Lieutenant was feeling. “I’ll call in a floater for Kidd.” He looked at Cruz. “You okay to lead Squad for the rest of shift?”

“Yes Chief.”

… … …

Stella knew Kelly needed to go home after that call. She knew he wouldn’t be in the right headspace to continue the rest of the shift. She would’ve been more worried if he’d tried to fight her and Boden on the decision but the fact that he accepted being sent home without so much as a word told Stella the call had affected him far more than she realized. 

Kelly didn’t say a word the entirety of the ride home or the trip up to the loft. He barely made it in the front door before dropping his bag and heading to take a shower. 

Stella didn’t push or try to get him to talk. She knew he’d come talk to her eventually; she could see it bubbling up just under the surface. 

She tried to keep the nerves at bay while waiting for Kelly to get out of the shower but as ten minutes turned to thirty, Stella became even more worried. She made her way to the bathroom and knocked on the closed door. “Kelly?”

She heard the shower still running but didn’t hear a response from Kelly. Opening the door, Stella entered the bathroom where she found Kelly on the floor of the shower, pushed up against the glass wall with his knees to his chest. Despite not being in the water’s direct stream and the water still being hot, Kelly was shaking. 

Stella grabbed a towel, quickly turned the water off, and knelt down in front of Kelly. She draped the towel around him and it was then that Stella realized Kelly wasn’t shaking from the cold–he was shaking from the hyperventilating sobs wracking his body. Recognizing a panic attack, Stella moved closer to Kelly, the knees and legs of her jeans now thoroughly soaked from the shower floor, and grabbed his hand. “Kelly? Hey, focus on me. I need you to breathe..”

“I - I can’t.” Kelly choked out. 

“Yes you can,” Stella nodded encouragingly. She moved his hand to her chest. “Focus on my breathing.”  

It took several agonizing minutes but Kelly finally managed to get his breathing under control. When Kelly was ready, Stella helped him dry off and get changed and sat him on the couch with a cup of coffee while she quickly ducked into their bedroom to change herself. 

She joined Kelly on the couch and her heart hurt to see his hands still shaking. Stella just hugged him close, vowed to be there for him whenever he was ready to talk, and prayed this was just a blip in his recovery and not an entire setback.

[dollyboned]

i hate having mcas.

that's it. i said it.

it's so tiring. i can't run, or go for long walks, or just sweat a little. i don't have enough strength for staying up for more than 20min, i can't eat some spices that i totally adore, and my spoons are usually so low. sometimes i simply don't want to get out of bed because im so tired but i have to do so anyway, and usually it happens when i know i'll have p.e. classes. i don't think i completed the two classes since the start of the academic year (february) without stopping and sitting and breathing heavily and feeling so itchy because i can't exercise too much or my histamine levels go high as the sky and being covered by sweat is like wearing a full costume made out of histamine, that im *specially* allergic to.

i see people running and jumping and simply walking under the sun and i feel like im missing something because im so young yet so limited. i should be able to be just fine if the climate changes, or if there's something spicy in the food, or if i need to walk a little, or if i just need to walk by a slightly inclined street, but im totally not able to be "just fine" and move on. my dad gets worried everytime we come back from school and i almost faint because of the exercise, and even though i try to explain how i feel, i know he still thinks that maybe it'd be better if i just exercised a little more to build up strength — and he's not the devil because he can't understand it as we only discovered my histamine intolerance this year because of some medical exams i made when i was 4 and my pediatrist never properly explained. i was 4 and now im 15 — it's basically 11 years being exposed to something im deeply allergic to and never understanding why i'd never get better from dermatitis and why i was so weak.

i feel fragile. my parents know i hate being seen as fragile and breakable and weak yet i can't take any longer. im constantly itching, my mind is always kinda numb, im always tired, my periods always hurt, i have constant migraines, my mood swings are worsening and on top of everything comes the game changer: im also neurodivergent. there's always going to exist someone that have the energy to do everything, and that's not me. socially im basically incapable of approaching people i find cool, the amount of work i've got to do to simply exist like a normal person is unbearable and yet i have to be responsible, good, well mannered, pretty, smart, cool, cute, role model, the best. i never learned to fail. i was always the smartest, the joyful, the responsible, the "i wish your grades were like her's" — i feel so bad to everyone who felt so little next to me because i never wanted anyone to live under a shadow of a version of me that i can't even recognize or remember anymore.

the little me would've looked at me with fear on her eyes and asked if we are failing for being so weak and so tired we can't even really care about learning something. are we really failing? i'm just so tired. i could do better if i wasn't constantly battling in order to only navigate my days without this haunting exhaustion taking me over, or if my head didn't hurt that bad, or if my emotional regulation was a little bit more effective, or if the sounds weren't so loud and the light so bright and people so confusing. i could do better if i wasn't restraining myself from eating something i love because i don't want an allergic reaction, or if i could just stim around, or if i could run around under the sun and laugh about it after. maybe if i had some adjustments my life would get so better. i don't want to run with anyone to feel like im part of something; i just want to feel okay with every aspect of myself, and maybe feeling okay is sitting down everytime i feel tired and taking medicine everytime there's an allergic reaction going on, not reducing myself to grades and stop wearing a damn mask in order to be liked.

i hate having mcas, i hate how my scoliosis correction surgery is never taken seriously when it comes to "it's painfully tiring to carry titanium inside me everyday", and i hate how misunderstood i am. i get it now: im not lazy, im simply chronically exposing myself to a lot of things and now my body is totally overloaded. i've been deeply sick for the past weeks and it's caused mainly by the overwhelming sensation of getting up, getting tired, being misunderstood and having everything to do when i don't have that energy to expend. i want to sleep, watch things about my favorite anime, write a little about it, allow myself to really rest for the first time in my life, eat healthy things that aren't like an allergy bomb inside my organism and i really, really, really want to get to live again, being understood and taken seriously, not ever being called lazy or nothing else. i just want to control what happens to myself and stop feeling on the verge of tears everytime i have to do something that requires movements and focus.

little me would be so sad we lost control over our own body to an allergy that could've been minimized before it ruined our life.

[dreadfutures]

there's something here ok

my mom used to be a bigot. she was abusive and alcoholic and had self esteem issues that she self medicated and took out on the world. she hated homeless people, hippies, liberals, anti gun activists, didn't believe in climate change.

in 15 years she has changed a lot. She carries a bag around full of food and blankets and water to give to the unhoused. She always has cash in her wallet to give to people on the street. She believes in climate change and votes green. She changed her mind about guns.

I can talk to her without worrying I'm going to be judged just for being antiwar. Her biggest priority isn't whether or not I'm going to church but whether I'm helping people and being kind.

I feel like I can tell her about (some) things about my childhood, and my relationships, and I'll be heard and respected. That is more than before, where I felt like I had to lie about every aspect of my life to avoid a berating and harassment.

She apologized to me once three years ago for my childhood and I don't care. It means more to me that she was at a place personally where she could apologize, than anything else.

Nothing makes up for how I was made to feel growing up. But I never needed her to be a part of my healing. It happened, and I deal with it in my own way, divorced from her. I don't need anything from her except the answer to my ONE WISH growing up: I wished she'd grow up, and be kinder, and be more secure. Even then, when I hated her, I knew that what would be good for ME would be to get away and become the person I wanted to be; what would be good for her, my family, the world, would be for her to BE BETTER. I was so angry because to me, I KNEW she could just BE BETTER, KINDER, than this, but it felt like she refused to do the work. It made me SO ANGRY. And so hopeless.

It took almost two decades. It was not a pleasant 15 years for her I'm sure. But she did it.

She is a different person than the one who hurt me; the person who hurt me is the same person who always had the potential to be better.

There's something here.

My old therapist and I talked about compartmentalization and how it's boxing things up and shoving them under the bed. We discussed how that's not what I'm doing with this approach. When I say the person my mom is now deserves to be treated independently of the person she was. I think it's the only way to have a community. We have to meet people where they're at, and if they want to and are able to engage with community the way the community engages, then. we should.

I had cut off my family almost completely when I moved away for college. They just continued to prove that they weren't going to engage with me in a healthy way, and they weren't people I wanted in my personal community. I told them why I didn't want to be around them.

And I was fine; I found my community, identified my needs and found ways to meet them with the resources and people I wanted in my life. There are unique pains in that, too, but they're just different pains than the agony of dealing with family like that. Fixing them wasn't my responsibility; getting out of a situation where I was suffering, was something in my power.

If my mom hadn't genuinely changed, I wouldn't engage the way I am now. But she could, and she did. The rest of my family is also better but for reasons I still hold them at a distance. There's something to that, too. and all of it just. really validates an important part of my world view that needed strengthening. Hope without evidence of possibility feels like a vain exercise. But this one example solidified something in me. There's something there.

[yellowocaballero]

hi! i know that i'm fated to read your every work despite not knowing the media half the time. this time i would like to finally be one step ahead. so uhh. where do i read orv? do i go for the webtoon or the novel? to clarify, i did try to search, but got confused by reddit. also i am going to watch trigun. i've been eyeing animorphs too but the 54 (?) books are making me go hmm. thank you for existing you're pretty great. you're like the spiderman of writing but instead you got asbestos rat'd.

THIS ASK IS INSANE. WE'RE REFERENCING MY LORE NOW?

But thank you, you're insane. People ask why I have stupid high standards for the fics i post on AO3 and it is because there are people like you who will just read whatever regardless of whether or not it's good. I have a responsibility.

This ask also made me wonder if I have good taste. Because every time somebody says this my first reaction is "oh god and the source materials aren't even good". I read a lot of trashy stuff (but, like, define trashy), and I consume too many bad things to be able to say I have discerning taste. If I enjoy something I almost never call it bad, because things were made to be enjoyed and I enjoyed them then they had value in at least one aspect. If you were to ask me if my favorite TV show of all time the Incredible Hulk 1974 was actually, unironically, good, then I'd break into a cold sweat. Is somebody bad because it's camp? Is something bad only if it's unintentional camp?

Regardless, I never write fic for something that isn't only like 80% good - there's a sweet spot of 'good enough for me to obsess over' and 'bad enough that I'm rewriting it in my head'. It's rare I write for anything I find completely good. Which is why I feel bad when people say that they're reading this thing I'm writing fic for jalksdf there's better things out there I SWEAR.

ORV is in the sweet spot of "this isn't high literature" and "this has given me brain worms". Definitely for sure start with the webtoon - the webnovel is clunkily translated, you don't read it for the writing at all, and it is also a literal million words. Don't read the webnovel unless you're like "I'm going insane and I need more of this". It starts off kind of slow ("This is a well executed very banal isekai") and you're like a frog in the pot of it slowly going more insane until you're a ways in and you are in a tangle of ridiculously complicated gambits and convoluted storytelling. There is literally no other way to describe it than the Homestuck of webnovels. If you're completely unfamiliar with isekai that's fine, but as a warning - ORV being your first webtoon/webnovel isekai is like your first shoujo manga being Ouran High Schol Host Club, or your first magical girl show being Madoka, or your first mecha anime to be Neon Genesis Evangelion. It's one of the best works in its genre but it's supposed to be viewed in context of the genre. Or maybe it's more like if Homura starred in Evangelion, which was Ouran. I'm just saying words.

Animorphs is kind of like Mother 3 in which everybody who has ever read/played it said that it changed them as a person, it changed their relationship with media and storytelling forever, if you read/play it you will be born again from the world's egg, etc. Works that genuinely become part of your personality. I also never recommend it to people because it is incredibly hit or miss. I remember using a spreadsheet of just "what books are skippable or not" because some of them are incredibly weird and some of them are incredibly weird in the bad way. The only Animorphs fic I've ever written is from 2019 so it's also not that great. Each book only takes an hour to read and the pdfs are free online, so it's incredibly accessible in terms of the reading experience, but it's kinda the Animorphs gestalt that changes you forever and not the individual books. I try not to recommend stuff that's like 25% bad.

Watch Trigun if you like what Trigun is - it's not going to deliver on something it's not. Also watch 98 first. Watch Stampede/read Trimax if you want more Trigun. The Trigun fic is based off Stampede but refer to my "I only write fic for smth that's 80% good and not 100% good" statement.

Also I think being bit by an asbestos rat just means that I probably have mold and drywall in my lungs, which would explain a lot about this blog. Thanks for the ask I love it.