#but i get needing a space to talk freely about that topic

[lilgynt]

listen peace and love imma need ed blogs to start killing themselves

[cadavercrafts]

I hate to start drama so please forgive me, but why would you create a figure of a character (Valentino) that is a rapist? Even if they're fictional, I think it sends a really bad message.

No offense taken at all, anon, but this will be a long one! I heard of other people who like villains getting similar messages but i've never gotten one myself despite all the things i've made fanart for in the past. So i'm almost happy to talk about this?

It's 100% fine to hate certain fictional characters and just not wanting to see them at all. I think many people (especially with trauma) can relate to seeing a character in media that just makes them feel sick, i sure know some! But you're also talking to a dedicated horror nerd here. I have an expensive action figure of a monster-pregnant half skinned man in my shelf, anon. Rape doesn't even BEGIN to cover what some of the characters i like have been doing in their little fake freakworlds.

I love to explore horror and dark themes because fiction gives you a space to do this in a secure controlled environment and that's why it's so wonderful. We all have different levels of hard topics we can handle but if something is too much for you you can step away, shut it off and you are free and safe. No, i would not enjoy to be skinned alive for real and i don't think it's a very nice thing to do to others either, i have zero sympathy or interest in real life criminals. But Hellraiser is still a neat book!

I'm an adult and I'm able to freely chose what kind of themes and media i want to interact with and so are you. I mean, i don't know if you're an adult, but you have the power to chose regardless. My nickname is CADAVERcrafts and i made so so so so much fanart for awful villains before, ones who did way worse things than Valentino. Ripping heads off, killing kids, eating people- you know, the usual! I'm afraid you're not gonna like many things i'll make in the future but i always tag everything so you can absolutely avoid it by putting it on your blacklist. No Valentino jumpscares on your dash from me!

To be quite honest i thought of a lot of kinda funny dismissive replies at first but i don't want to shit on people who are genuinly upset. If you want something trigger tagged in the future just shoot me a message, i like to claim i'm not nearly as much of an asshole as the characters i make in clay. And if you just can't stand it then unfollow me, throw me in the bin! I'm just some online weirdo, you don't need me in your life if my works make you sad. Toss it, it's cool, this is your playzone and you get to decide who gets in!

[persphonesorchid]

Orbiting Jupiter - KNJ

Summary: Namjoon has never met someone like you in a long time. Jupiter to his Ganymede; he's stuck in your orbit.

Warnings: Lots of anxiety on Namjoon's part, mentions of being stalked, Namjoon hurts himself more than anything bc he's clumsy. Smut (Minors begone.): Unprotected sex, mutual masterbation, light spit play, Namjoon's daddy kink is a brief topic of interest lol. I think that's all, let me know if i missed any!

Word count: 13.4k

Genre: Idolverse, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst (it's not much, promise :)) Smut

Notes: FINALLY FINISHED!! This would have been out a whole lot sooner, but i've been dealing with life, stress, a breakup...more stress lol. But it's all good now! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and please leave feedback, even if it's just a little smiley face in the comments! Have a good day!!

Masterlist

Namjoon is dressed casually enough, he thinks. Inconspicuously enough that he won’t be recognized, enough that he could become another face in the crowd; enough to blend in.

It’s early, but the city is bustling with people starting their day. He tries not to be suspicious, as much as he could. Tries to navigate a city he’s been in many times before like he’s lived there his whole life. He tries not to look over his shoulder too much, guard up, like he’s just waiting for someone to run up to him and demand his attention. The mask and hat he picked out before he sneaked out of his hotel room brought him little comfort. He hopes that no one would give him a second glance or look too closely.

To this day he’d never understand how his fans can tell him apart by the way he walks, or by his eyes alone. So, he keeps his head down, hands in his pockets, and tries not to think too much about his stride.

He’s not sure what he’s looking for, what he’s doing out of his hotel room so early. He has no schedule today, free to do what he likes, and he just needed to get out for a minute or two. He wasn’t planning on straying too far, especially since he’s told no one that he was leaving. He found himself just walking, though, enjoying the sights and the people leading simple lives.

He finds a little café after walking some more, and stands outside it, out of the way of the door to avoid being an issue. It’s crowded inside, and anxiety curls in his stomach as he contemplates going in. He believes no one would recognize him, he hopes that no one would look too long, and he steps inside.

It’s a bit quieter than he expected, people talking in low murmurs amongst themselves. The loudest things being the sound of a coffee grinder running and a barista calling someone for their order. It’s a small café, more dining space than workspace, and Namjoon wanders over to the resister and orders without issue.

His eyes trail over the other patrons, everyone absorbed in their own worlds and conversations. The table he eyes quickly gets taken while he collects his iced Americano and he sighs softly, despite the amount of people in, he doesn’t want to leave yet, and the only available spot to sit comes with another person. Namjoon weighs his options. He could go outside, find a little park to sit in and drink his coffee, or he could risk it here, where someone has yet to pay him any mind. It’s been so long since he’s been able to walk freely, he knows he’ll miss it when he goes back through the front door.

So, with cautious steps, he walks over to the table with the only available seat.

“Excuse me...” Namjoon softly calls, briefly contemplating on tapping your shoulder; you’re reading a book, and he knows well how easily one can get lost in those. You look up though, the tiny furrow between your brows gives way to your confusion, as well as the little humming sound you make. “Sorry...do you mind if I...”

Namjoon motions to the chair across from you, and you look at it and then back to him for a few seconds before realization blooms in your eyes.

“Oh! No, of course...just...go ahead.” Your smile is pretty, Namjoon notes, and he realizes, as he thanks you and sits, that you recognize him. You stare at him in a knowing kind of way, and before Namjoon can up and leave, you simply smile the way you had before, as though he was any other stranger wanting to share your table. He watches with bated breath, trying to stay calm just in case, and you just go back to reading your book.

There’s no fanfare, no freaking out and drawing attention, or asking for a photo and too invasive questions. You don’t even look at him again. The sound of you flipping the pages of your book melds into the background noise of the space, and Namjoon finds it strange. He thanks his stars, though, he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk losing his head.

He relaxes when you continue to pretend he isn’t sitting in front of you, your eyes following the words on the page. There’s a tap of your fingers against the wooden tabletop, and a minute shake of your head before you close your eyes for a moment. You take an agitated breath, and Namjoon pauses the movement of him trying to get the straw underneath the bottom of his mask and watching you at the same time. He tries to peek at the cover of the book you’re reading, curious.

You shake your head again, muttering to yourself before going back to reading, your expression quickly blanks as you start back up again. Namjoon sips his coffee, for once feeling relaxed in a room full of strangers and lets his eyes trail elsewhere. Over to the little potted flowers that line the windows, or the people passing outside.

There’s a sudden squeak from you and Namjoon looks at you in time to catch the look of utter disbelief on your face. With frantic fingers you fish a bookmark from the back pages of the book before marking your spot and closing the book with a soft smack. Gently, with enough care that someone would think you’re handling glass, you place the book onto the table with a sigh and pick up your drink. You still don’t look his way, sipping at your drink with a frown and an irritated draw to your brows. Not that Namjoon is complaining, he swears he isn’t. It’s just...weird. He expected you to at least sneak a glance by now.

Curiosity should be a cardinal sin, as it’s gotten him into trouble more times than he could count, but Namjoon decides to dig his own grave anyway.

“What were you reading?” He asks, and it takes a moment, you’re clearly in your head, staring off at nothing and muttering into your drink. You look at him when his words finally break through.

“Huh? Oh...” You set your cup down, turning the book to him, “'The Desolation of Devil’s Acre'. It’s the last book of a series I’m following, and the main character is just...” You sigh through your nose, “He’s an idiot.”

You talk to him like any stranger, it almost made Namjoon think that you didn’t recognize him at all. He still sees it in your eyes, and as you’ve been adamant not to, he doesn’t address it either.

“I’d bet...” Namjoon chuckles, “If your reaction was anything to go by.”

There’s an embarrassed air about you now as you let out a soft laugh. Namjoon wants to smack himself though, he’d just told you that he’s been staring at you long enough to notice.

“Ah, yeah.” You wave a hand, “I bought it earlier...I was too excited and just got into it but Jacob is an idiot. He just makes me wanna reach in there and smack him silly.”

“Is it good?” Namjoon nods at the book, taking a moment to look at the cover. It’s black and white, a little girl sits on a black chair, a wall of photos is the backdrop, staring into the camera with big clear eyes and someone’s hand is tugging on the sleeve of the black and white chequered striped dress. It seems like a horror novel if Namjoon is being honest.

“I haven’t read much of this one yet, but the previous ones are amazing. Too bad the movie didn’t follow it correctly.” There’s an excitement in your eyes, and you seem perfectly content to rave about all the ways the movie went wrong and did the book absolutely no justice. Namjoon nods along, throwing questions at you about the books when he can, and by the time you’re done he’s laughing at something, and you are too. His iced Americano is now just an Americano that’s just slightly cold, more water than coffee, but Namjoon doesn’t mind and drinks it anyway. He still hasn’t removed his mask, but you don’t seem too bothered by it.

“It just would’ve been so much better if they’d followed the book correctly. I was so excited about the movie, and they just went and messed it up.” You sigh, taking a sip at your drink, Namjoon’s sure it’s cold by now. “You should give it a read, though...” You tilt your head at him, humming, and Namjoon tilts his head back, you can’t see it, but he smiles, the furrowing of his brows you do see.

“What?” Namjoon asks, a little amused by your sudden pause. You study him for a minute, but he’s comfortable enough in this space you’ve created that it doesn’t set off the usual alarm bells in his head. You’ve done wonders for treating him as just another person. Simply Kim Namjoon, who wandered into this small café and took the seat opposite you, and not RM of a globally recognized pop septet.

“You don’t strike me as a fantasy guy.” You say, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Oh yeah? And what do I strike you as?”

He leans forward a bit, genuinely curious, unintentionally flirty. He does his best to reel himself in, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You take it in stride, though, despite the flush to your cheeks and the embarrassed air that lingers.

“Philosophy, poetry...maybe a bit of romance.” You finally say, smiling a bit.

Namjoon hums, leaning back into his chair, “You know a lot.” He says, but between the string of words lies the unspoken ‘You know me.’. He studies you as you study him, your face betraying no emotion.

You simply shrug, lifting your cup to your lips again, “Human decency.”

Namjoon quite likes your company, and he spends an hour more sitting opposite you, enjoying the sense of normalcy you provide. He wonders what you both look like to onlookers, like two friends who haven't seen each other in a while and are simply catching up. It feels that way for Namjoon.

He sits there until his coffee is finished and yours is too and you’ve tucked your book away and you're both talking again about anything that comes to mind. You don’t ask him about his work, but you ask about what he’s into these days, he recommends books and music he’s sure you’ve never heard of, and you do the same.

Time passes and then some more, and it's enough time for someone to realize that he’s missing. His phone vibrates against his leg right in the middle of him explaining why he thinks some things that happen in life can’t simply be chalked up to coincidences and he startles, leg jerking, knocking his knee against the underside of the table.

It rattles the empty cups topside with a dull thud and a sharp pain shooting up Namjoon’s leg, you wince with him, and he mutters a string of expletives. Rubbing a hand furiously against the offended spot, Namjoon fishes his phone from the pocket of his jeans, not bothering to check who’s calling before he answers.

“Hello?”

“Namjoon-ah, where are you?” Seokjin’s voice is a little far away and a little distracted. He suddenly yells a curse and Namjoon can only assume he’s spent his morning breaking in some new game he bought. “Sejin-nim was looking for – fuck, I hate this game – something about a briefing. You’re not in your room.”

“Ah, Hyung. I took a walk...I’m not far. Yeah – I'm coming back...Okay.” Namjoon glances at you as he pockets his phone again, smiling with his eyes.

You smile back, waving a hand, understanding as he picks up the empty take away cup and stands to leave. There’s no complaint from you, nothing in your eyes that tells of anything else. “It was nice meeting you.” You say softly, leaning forward a bit even though the chances of you being overheard by anyone else was slim.

“You too.” Namjoon says, and he means it. You’re like a diamond in a coal mine, as finding someone like you – being who he is - was rare. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, Namjoon pauses in the step he makes, faltering at your side and you look up at him curious and confused. He wars with himself for a moment, he’s certain that he’s about to do something stupid.

Something he should never do because of how dangerous it could be not only for him but his groupmates. He stares at you for a moment, long enough that it warrants your concern, and you ask if he's okay.

“Can I... Is it okay if I ask for your number?” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can reel them in, and he’s standing there a little mortified.

Namjoon always prides himself in being self-assured, but that same self-assurance leads him to putting his foot in his mouth sometimes and he says things without thinking first. It’s too late to pull the words back or act like he hadn’t asked because you’re blinking up at him, sitting a little straighter now in your seat.

You glance around, brows furrowed, “Are...are you sure?”

For the first time, it seems as though it just registered that you’re speaking to RM of BTS.

There’s a nervousness about you now, as you glance to the side, and Namjoon finds this strange. He’s not trying to sound like an ass thinking that many others would jump at the offer – or be bold enough to demand it first – it’s simply the truth.

He finds your consideration refreshing, though, and he waits patiently for you to make up your mind. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and Namjoon backtracks, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Namjoon says, putting up a hand. Despite who he is in the eyes of the public; he’s still a man. A man you’ve only spoken to for a half hour who’s now asking for your number, Namjoon would think very hard about it if he were in your shoes, too.

“I don’t meet a lot of people like you, and I thought it would be nice if we spoke often, but if that’s not cool, that’s okay.”

You shake your head, “No... it’s okay. I just...Are you sure? I don’t want to put you in any difficult spots, or myself for that matter...”

You’re surprisingly calm, looking more wary than anything else, and Namjoon takes that as a good sign. “I’m sure, don’t worry.” He smiles and pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans; he unlocks it with a press of his thumb and hands it over to you.

You fumble a little with the device, fingers tapping at the number pads quickly before handing it back to him. He shoots you a quick text, a simple ‘Hi :”)' before he was pocketing his phone again before he was waving and making his way out the café door.

Namjoon tries his hardest to keep walking forward back down the street and not jog back over to the glass window to wave at you. That would be very weird of him.

Namjoon’s day goes on as normal, not like he was expecting anything different. A whirlwind of briefings and meetings and discussions on what would be done during his group’s free time. It's no different to any other time, but by the end of the day Namjoon’s brain feels like mush and he’s lying in bed, palms under his head as he gazes at the swirling patterns etched into the ceiling.

He sighs, it’s long, drawn out and tired. He blinks slowly, sitting up to lean against the headboard. The sun had long set and only the glow of the city lights penetrated the darkness of his hotel room through the large window.

He squints at the lights that are too far off to be anything but hovering blobs in the distance, and briefly, he wonders what you’re up to.

Oh, that’s right.

Namjoon fumbles through the mess of his sheets to find the phone he knows he tossed there somewhere. It’s nowhere near him and he stands, lifting the sheets to look. There’s a dull thud and a clatter, and with a sigh, Namjoon rounds the bed to find his phone on the floor.

He plops back on the bed, pressing the power button and inspecting the screen for cracks. There’s a flurry of notifications and emails and texts from his group mates and work, and Namjoon scrolls through his notification feed. At the bottom, he finds a text from you; a reply to the message he’d sent earlier.

‘Hi (:’

It’s cute in its simplicity, but Namjoon stares at the place where your contact information sits. Just your number and nothing else, and Namjoon comes to the realization that he didn’t ask you for your name at any point this morning.

You had responded hours ago, and had sent nothing else, and with some embarrassment, Namjoon types out a message.

Namjoon: Hey, sorry I missed your text! Busy day, you know?

He frowns at the message when it goes through, at the time stamp that reads a little past midnight. You’re probably asleep and the timing seems a little less than ordeal, a little inappropriate given the hour, but Namjoon lets out a surprised hum when the bubbles appear at the bottom.

Unknown: Hey! No worries, it’s totally okay.

Namjoon: You’re up late...

Namjoon pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, was that a weird thing to mention? He can’t help but feel like he’s blowing this somehow. Is there a right way to text someone you barely know? He shakes his head, deciding not to think too much on it.

Namjoon: Sorry, but I didn’t ask your name earlier.

Unknown: Haha, that’s okay. It’s Y/n. And yeah, I was just finishing up some work.

Namjoon contemplates his next question, nerves running amok in his tummy.

Namjoon: Can I call you? Is that okay?

The bubbles appear and disappear for a moment and Namjoon thinks he’s overstepped. It’s pushing one in the morning and Namjoon’s aware of how it may look to you, how it may look to anyone else for that matter.

Y/n: Sure, we can do that.

Namjoon sighs, looking out the window, away from his phone to give himself a moment. You too – he’s mindful of himself, of course. He taps on the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

The line rings for a couple seconds, and Namjoon thinks that maybe you’ve stepped away for a minute or perhaps this was the wrong move and he shouldn’t have asked, but you pick up before another ring could sound. It’s quiet for a second and then he hears you inhale softly.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds a little different over the phone, or maybe it's just the time and Namjoon’s mind is trying to go places it shouldn’t. You’re as calm as you were this morning in the cafe, nothing in your voice betrays your emotion.

“Hey.” Namjoon can’t help the smile, and he’s sure you heard it in his voice. “I know it’s late, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good. I had a coffee so I’ll be awake for a while again.”

Despite your words your voice sounds tired and Namjoon feels guilty, laying back against the headboard with a soft sigh.

He asks about the book you’re reading and he listens to your rambles about the chapter you finished. Then you both talk about anything that comes to mind.

“How’d your day go? You don’t have to be too specific or anything, just in general.” You murmur softly, when Namjoon’s laying down fighting to keep his eyes open because he doesn’t want to hang up yet.

“Hectic.” He answers honestly, he can hear you shuffle around, getting comfortable in your sheets. “You?”

“It was alright, I spent half the morning freaking out, really. Today felt a little dream-like. If you hadn’t texted, I probably would’ve convinced myself that I imagined the whole thing.” You chuckle, and then there was a small pause, “Sorry, I’ve been so chill about it this whole time.”

“You’re fine. Handling it better than most.” Namjoon says, “I’m glad you didn’t freak out when you met me though.”

“Human decency.” You repeat your words from earlier, and Namjoon feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You’ve probably had enough of that to last you a lifetime.”

“It’s not too bad, sometimes anyway.” He says softly, halfway asleep and he’s sure you are too. Your voice is getting quieter, and Namjoon can’t keep his eyes open.

When Namjoon wakes it’s to the sun shining into his eyes and his phone is still in his palm. It’s a little after eight am when he checks, and the call had already been disconnected sometime around seven. There’s a message wishing him a good morning from you, there’s a flutter in his tummy at the little yellow heart that ends the text, and he thinks it may be a little too early for that kind of response. He can’t help it though, and he lays in bed for another few minutes and stares at it with a stupid smile on his face.

He wonders what to do with his day, now with more than enough free time on his hands to do whatever he likes and then he wonders what you were doing today. There’s an all-consuming longing for the sense of normalcy you provided within the day he’s known you, and he knows that isn’t much time to find comfort in a person, but he guesses that’s just how it is when you live like he does. However, he doesn’t want to scare you away with his need to feel something that was long lost to him, so he puts off asking you anything.

He has a few things lined up on his personal itinerary: Museum crawls and sightseeing, all of which he would do alone and hopefully without any troubles along the way. He finally decides to bite the bullet when he’s done with his breakfast and sitting at the small table in his hotel room, fiddling with his phone and his bottom lip between his teeth. You hadn’t replied to his responding text from earlier and Namjoon can only assume you’re busy, but he texts anyway.

Namjoon: Are you busy today?

He locks his phone and cleans up the table, snatching his phone up when it chimes softly, smiling already.

Y/n: Not particularly…why?

Namjoon could never distinguish tone from texts, so he’s not sure if you’re suspicious or teasing, so he replies carefully.

Namjoon: I’m doing a thing today…some sightseeing or I might go to a museum…wanna come with?

The bubbles disappear and reappear and then you’re calling.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t feel obligated to either.” Is the first thing he says when he answers, just to be certain.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I’d love to. I just need to know if it’s okay.” There’s a hesitance in your voice, a certain type of worry.

Namjoon is quick to ease, “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t, Y/n.” He says with a chuckle.

“Ah, okay.” You laugh a little, “Oh but what about...do I have to sign an NDA?”

Namjoon pauses, he’s forgotten about that. He runs a hand through his hair, “Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.” There’s a smile in your words and Namjoon can’t help but smile back. “Where do I meet you?”

Namjoon sat across from his manager, Sejin, in his hotel room. He clears his throat, feeling a bit nervous about what he was going to ask.

“Sejin,” Namjoon begins, “there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sejin, always attentive to Namjoon’s needs, leaned forward. “Sure, what’s on your mind, Namjoon?”

Namjoon hesitated for a moment before continuing, “There’s a friend I met recently, and I was hoping to bring her along with me when I go to the museum today.”

Sejin raises an eyebrow, his protective instincts kicking in. “A friend? Are you sure that’s a good idea, Namjoon? You know how public spaces can get, especially with a girl by your side.”

Namjoon nods, understanding Sejin’s concern. He’s well aware of how things can get, being who he is, especially in the eyes of some of his fans. “I know, Sejin. She's a good friend of mine, she won’t cause any trouble.”

Of course, Namjoon doesn’t know that for sure, but he’s willing to take the risk, and Sejin doesn't need to know he'd only met you yesterday; what he doesn't know won't kill him. One thing he’s certain of is that you’re different, and that’s something he can bet on.

Sejin contemplates for a moment, silent as he thinks before sighing. “Alright, Namjoon. I trust your judgement. But we need to take some precautions. We’ll have her sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure our privacy and safety.”

Namjoon smiles, relieved that Sejin was willing to accommodate him. “Thank you.”

Namjoon paces in the hotel lobby an hour later, nerves making him unable to stand still for too long. He had met you just a day ago, but there’s something about you that intrigued him deeply. The way you’ve treated him like a regular person, not as the famous musician he was, is perhaps the biggest factor. He found that both fascinating and endearing.

Moments later, you walk into the lobby, looking a bit nervous yourself. You smile when you spot him, lifting your hand in a little wave. Your smile immediately puts Namjoon at ease. You’re wearing a simple dress, a backpack slung over one shoulder, walking over to him in quick steps.

“Hey.” You stop once you’re close enough, still smiling.

Namjoon smiles back, feeling a sense of relief. “Hey, Y/n Thanks for coming.”

You wave him off with a hand, looking around at the large lobby, the lights sparkling in your eyes.

Sejin is waiting at a table near the reception desk, and stands to shake your hand when Namjoon leads you over.

You take a seat and go through the formalities with him, and sign the NDA without complaint. Namjoon can’t help but feel a little worried, like he’s turning your life on its head by knowing him personally.

Namjoon watches the scenery pass by through the tinted glass of the car Sejin rented, the small talk died down as he pulled into the carpark of the museum. He leads you through the private entrance, where the manager meets you both with an enthusiastic greeting.

The museum is empty, and Namjoon catches the wonder in your eyes when he looks at you. “You rented out the whole place?”

Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, I normally do. It’s more so for safety than anything else.”

You hum, nodding in understanding as you trail next to him. “It’s pretty cool, I’ve never been in one while it’s empty before.”

The private tour begins, and Namjoon’s knowledge and passion for art shines through as he explains the significance of each piece, trying his best to keep you entertained. You listen intently, genuine interest evident, even asking questions in between his rambling.

“You know,” You say, staring at a painting of abstract colours, “This is not at all how I imagined this to go.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, intrigued. He’s long stopped paying attention to the art that lined the walls, admiring you, mostly. “Oh? What did you imagine?”

You shrug, turning your head to look at him, a playful glint in your eye. “Well, I expected bodyguards, and a bit of running around. This is nice, though.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding, “Yeah, I would usually have someone close by, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You frown a bit, “Isn’t that dangerous though? You should have someone nearby regardless.”

“Your comfort is important.” Namjoon says, trying to keep you from worrying too much.

“Your safety is too, you know.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you he’s right outside?” Namjoon smiles, he could see you’re ready to debunk his words with the way your eyes narrow. “Don’t worry, someone’s near, just not as near as they would be normally.”

You stare at him for a quiet moment longer, “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

As the both of you continued your tour, the conversation between you flowed effortlessly. Namjoon took the moment he had to know more about you. Asking about your dreams, how far you’ve gotten in that book of yours, and the places you wanted to travel to. He found you easy to talk to, allowing himself to open up to you in a way he hadn’t with many people.

Something in the back of his mind, a learned warning echoed. He really shouldn’t be, considering everything. He chooses to ignore it for now, as you ask him about his favourite pieces of art.

By the time the tour was over and Namjoon actually remembered to take photos of the art, the sun was at its zenith. He tries not to take too long touring, so the museum can at least open to the public for the rest of the day.

You’re scrolling through your phone, looking at the photos you took of the pieces that caught your attention.

“Wanna get some food? There’s a good place nearby.” Namjoon asks, tucking his phone into his jeans.

You nod, smiling, “I can eat.”

Namjoon drives you both to a diner he’d visited once or twice when he was last in this city. The diner was packed for the lunch rush and Namjoon contemplates his next move in the car.

“Oh, that’s...” You glance between him and the view of the people in the diner, “I’ll go, whatchu want?”

“I can go...” You’re already unbuckling your seat belt and leaning down to rummage through your backpack. You find your purse with a soft ‘a-ah!’, smiling at him as you right yourself and turn to him again.

“It’s alright. It’s pretty crowded... you might not be so lucky this time.” You say, “Want anything specific?”

Namjoon smiles at you, shaking his head with a small laugh, “Anything’s fine.”

You nod, opening the door, there’s a rush of warm air that disturbs the AC, and Namjoon is stopping you. “Hang on...”

He sees you shake your head as he reaches for his wallet, and you step out before he can hand you his card.

“You can get it next time.” With that you’re off, and Namjoon watches a little slack jawed as you go.

Something in his chest flips and crawls up his throat, “...next time?”

You come out of the cafe, balancing two cups of something colourful in a cardboard holder and two brown paper bags a good five minutes later. Namjoon leans over to the passenger seat to pop the door open for you, extending his arm to take the holder.

“I got you a smoothie if that’s okay,” You say once you settle, passing him one of the paper bags, “Ham, egg and cheese sandwich.”

“Smoothies are good, thank you,” The smoothie is a mix of some fruit and another he can’t put his finger on. He hums at the sweet taste, “Oh, that’s good.”

For a moment, you both quietly eat, “Thanks for inviting me to come with you. I had fun.”

“Sure you weren’t bored out of your mind?” Namjoon teases, smiling when you reach over to smack his arm lightly.

“I was not!” Your giggle rings like a bell, “I mean it.”

As the days go by and his time in this city draws nearer to an end, Namjoon tries his best to spend as much time with you as he could. He’d text and call when he can and when your time allows it, learning more about you as he went along and liking you more as he did. He felt strange for the most part, as his two-week break comes to an end and he’s packing his things away and double checking that he doesn’t forget anything or pack something that isn’t his. His phone is propped up against the bedpost, distracted from folding his clothes by the view of you coming back into the frame.

“You’ll be busy once you get back, right?” You ask, sipping juice through the straw of a juice box.

Namjoon sighs, “Yeah, I’ll try my best to keep up with you, though.”

“You don’t have to.” You wave him off with a hand, “You’re a busy guy.”

“Would you miss me?” Namjoon asks, curious, because he’ll miss you. Is it normal to feel this way about someone you’ve known for only a short while?

“Nah.”

“Ow.”

“I’m kidding.”

Namjoon rolls his suitcase behind him, taking a moment to wave at the paparazzi and the fans that litter the terminal. He grips his phone tightly in his free hand, smiling at the cameras. He’s slept a little on the plane over, and even though he’s wide awake now he knows he’ll crash later. His phone buzzes in his hold and he briefly glances at it, he texted you right before he landed, and was eagerly awaiting your response.

He waits until he’s seated in the car at the entrance, he waves one last time through the window before he rolls it right up and settles into the leather seat of the car. The silence is soothing and Namjoon watches as the people outside filter away now that he’s inside.

Y/n: Hope your flight went okay!

Namjoon studies the text for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was a little worried, honestly. He likes you, a lot, really, but what if it was simply in passing? A fleeting moment of interest? What if it all amounts to nothing in the end all because you’re you and he’s him? It’s easier to date within your own circle, to be with people who understand the complications and compromises that come with being with someone like him. He feels as though now, with an ocean between you both, everything will simply fade away. He’s known you barely two weeks, and even though he’s let you in, and you him, Namjoon can’t help his growing anxiety at the thought. Funny it occurs to him now that he’s back home.

Namjoon: It did!

He stares out the window for a bit, watching the familiar streets zoom by and shakes his head. When was the last time he actually felt like this? Meeting people is hard enough, and meeting someone like you is even harder. He’s seen and met a lot of people over the years, over his time as RM of BTS, a lot of fans who he thought beautiful and never pursued. He knows what comes of relationships between an idol and a fan, he’s seen it happen and it’s always a disappointment to be used like that. But he doesn’t want to put you in that box, he has no right to when you’ve shown him differently. Though, he’s in his right mind to keep an eye out for tabloids and articles of the things he’s shared with you and he also feels guilty that he does. He’s only known you for a short time, something he constantly has to remind himself of when he’s thinking too hard, but that level of trust is something he’s willing to work towards with you.

Namjoon’s days blur together into the weeks as they would when he’s too busy to do anything else but what’s required of him. Meetings here and there, album preparations; work. As he promised, he tried his best to keep up with you, and even on the days where all he could do when he comes home is pass out wherever he sets himself, you text or call to make sure he’s doing okay with it all. Sometimes it’s too early for you to consider being awake or it’s late at night and you’re too tired to keep your eyes open and Namjoon could barely understand what’s coming out of your mouth.

As the weeks meld into months you both found a routine that works best, and Namjoon finds things to do with you when you’re both free at decent times. Maybe you’ll watch a movie or play games together or simply catch up on things you’ve missed.

Namjoon never really has much to tell, most of his days are filled with work and despite his reputation for spoilers, he’s trying his best to keep things under wraps. You do most of the talking, you never seem to mind it much – smiling with a certain understanding – and Namjoon is always happy to listen about what you did that day or your workplace gossip.

He’s found it impossible to get you out of his head and focus more often, thoughts of you invading his mind more than anything else.

Even now as he tries to focus on putting a track together, he’s barely with it, phone propped up against a speaker and waiting for you to get back from getting some things done. He moved from the living room to his home studio a while ago, determined to get some work done and now just sits and stares at the tracks with a frustrated frown. He squints at the screen, moving some things around and playing the same track over and over.

“Where’re your glasses?”

Namjoon glances at his phone to see you just settling back on your couch, a glass bowl of cereal in your hand. You look cute in blue jellyfish printed pajamas he hasn’t seen you in before, hair pulled up and away from your face and even through the phone screen Namjoon can see it’s still damp.

“They’re…” He thinks for a moment, “…somewhere…”

You chuckle, “You should get those thingies kids and old people put on their glasses so they won’t lose them.”

“Trying to say something?”

“I’m just saying…you either lose them or break them and you can just avoid both by getting the thing. I know contacts are annoying.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding, “Yeah, they’re a pain in the ass.” He sighs, pushing his chair away from the desk to spin around and stretch his fingers. “Isn’t it late for you?”

You put another spoonful of cereal in your mouth, turning your hand to look at your watch and hum, “It’s not that late…trying to get rid of me?”

“Never.” Namjoon smiles at your teasing tone, “Sleep is important, though.”

“Says you.” You point a finger at him, “You texted me at three am two days ago.”

“You were awake though, so…you’re losing this argument.” Namjoon laughs as you snap your mouth shut.

You point your spoon at him, “I’ll win next time.”

“Are those new? The pyjamas.” Namjoon asks, propping his chin on his hand, resigning himself to not getting any work done this morning.

“I’ve had these a while, aren’t they cute? There’s a really big jellyfish printed on the back.” You say, setting your bowl down with a soft clink of the glass against the wood of your coffee table.

“Yeah they’re…” Namjoon feels the words stall in his throat as you stand up, the bottoms of the pajamas aren’t long legged pants as he expected them to be. They end just above the middle of your thighs, and you’re giving him quite the show when you turn and come back down. The sight of the cartoonish jellyfish on the back of the top knocks Namjoon back where he’s supposed to be and he pinches the back of his hand.

When you right yourself, sitting back on the couch, Namjoon can’t stop thinking about the rest of you he can’t see.

“What’s with that look?” You ask after a moment of him just staring.

“What look?” Namjoon asks back, and for a second you simply watch him before you huff out a laugh and look away.

“You’re looking at me like you…” You start, eyes moving back to the camera before they flit away again, “Oh, my mum’s calling. I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

Namjoon laughs a bit, nodding as he waves you goodbye, “Sleep well.”

“Ah, fuck.” Namjoon grunts, the muscles of his arm strains and he tilts his head back, sweat trailing down his neck. He brings his arm up and then back down slowly, letting a breath out through his nose, “Shit.”

The music playing through his Bluetooth headphones suddenly fades out, the specific ringtone he set for you plays softly. Namjoon sets the dumbbell down on the floor, pressing a finger against the touchpad of one of the earbuds and answers.

“Hey Princess, what’s up?” He pulls at the end of his tee, fanning the cool ac air against his warm skin.

“Joon, it’s a video call.”

“Oh.” Namjoon pulls his phone from his pocket, waving at you with a smile, “Hi.” He gets off the bench he’s sitting on, propping his phone somewhere safe and sits again.

“Hi…are you – damn give me a warning, won’t you?”

Namjoon looks up at you just in time to catch you looking away, not missing the motion of you biting your bottom lip. He smirks, whether you’re aware of it or not; this is payback. He had a hard time not thinking of you in those short pyjama pants for two days, and even though this was completely unintentional, it was worth your reaction.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Namjoon smiles innocently.

You shake your head, “Anyway…guess what.” He hears the excitement in your voice rather than see as you’ve stepped out of frame and then quickly back in with a bottle of water in hand. There’s a big bright smile on your lips and you seem to be bouncing a bit in place.

“Well someone’s excited.” Namjoon chuckles and you wave at him frantically, “Okay, okay. What?”

You pout, “It’s no fun if you don’t even attempt to guess, you know?”

“There’s like, so many possibilities of my guess being wrong.” Namjoon says and you sigh dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. Killjoy.” You roll your eyes, the action playful, “I’ll be in your area around this time next week.”

It takes a full minute for Namjoon to process and he almost drops the dumbbell on his foot, “Eh?”

“Hyung…I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon whines, flopping back into the couch in Genius Lab. Seokjin pats his back as Yoongi swivels around in his chair to face him, plucking his headphones out his ears.

“That’s a good thing.” Yoongi says, standing to stretch with a groan, “But also…don’t think about it too much. Overthinking doesn’t do you any good.”

Seokjin sighs, shaking his head, “I think it’s good that she’s coming here. It’s a good way to connect, you know?”

“I know, but…”

“It’s different here, right?” Yoongi supplies, sitting back into his chair but he doesn’t turn away, “Feels like you have to run around in secret. And on top of that she isn’t in ‘our circle’, things can get overwhelming for both of you, especially her.”

Yoongi is right, as he usually was. The last thing he wanted was to have his life and the circumstances of it be too much for you to take. Namjoon told the guys about you once or twice, just in case things between you both became more serious than it is now, he didn’t want them out of the loop and have to explain later.

“I don’t want that to get in the way of a relationship should it happen…” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“Alright Joonie, Hyung is gonna explain something so listen carefully.” Seokjin lays a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and Yoongi makes a face at the tone he uses.

“Why do you sound like you’re gonna talk to him about safe sex?”

Seokjin ignores Yoongi, turning Namjoon to face him with his other hand on the other shoulder, looking serious. “Namjoon. You’re more than your celebrity status. You’re a person with feelings and desires, just like anyone else. If you like this girl, don’t let fame be a barrier. If things get hard, do what all the other adults do; sit and talk about it.”

Namjoon nods, “Right. You’re right. Thank you, Hyung.”

“Now, imagine if I wasn’t here to look after you guys.” Seokjin pats Namjoon’s shoulder, one of his rare deep chuckles filling the brief silence. “Just take her to see all the good places, have fun and you can worry about the rest after.”

It’s a day after you arrive in Korea that Namjoon sees you.

He’s meeting you a block away from the place you’re renting for the two weeks you’ll be here. There’s a slight chill in the air as the tail-end of summer pulls the beginning of autumn, and you’ve unintentionally matched him with your dark clothes and hat. You both had been texting the night before and Namjoon promised to take you somewhere nice while you were free.

“Hi!” your greeting is cheerful, and Namjoon returns it, smiling.

“Settling in okay?” Namjoon asks as he pulls off the curb.

He is determined to make the most of every moment you both spent together, showing you all his favourite spots. You both wandered through bustling markets, sampled street food, and visited historic temples.

When the sun painted the sky with lilac and indigo and the moon chased it away, Namjoon parked his car in the carpark of an observatory. The observatory is closed of course, but there’s an event that Namjoon booked tickets for the moment he saw it. You expressed your love for the cosmos many times before, and Namjoon was more than willing to indulge you. At times he would sit and listen to you ramble on for ages, telling him any and everything.

He flashes you a dimpled smile, making sure his black mask and hat were secured before leading you to the park located at the back of the observatory. The park was a large space with sparse trees and shrubbery dotting the field, the trees are wrapped in fairy lights, which are usually on at night time but are off to allow the best view of the night sky. There are winding paths of gravel that goes every which way, and Namjoon picks the one where less people linger, leading you down it with your hand in his.

He leads you through the winding trails and the other people here for the event until he finds a clear spot where you both can sit comfortably without disturbance.

It’s a clear night, the stars twinkling in the sky above. It’s quiet between you for a moment, where you watch the sky and he’s looking at you. His heart pounds in his ears and he doesn’t know what else to do but look away when you suddenly turn.

“What?” You laugh, leaning slightly to nudge his shoulder with yours.

Namjoon laughs softly, knowing he’s definitely been caught and shakes his head, “Nothing.”

You sigh softly, wrapping your arm around his and leaning your head on his shoulder. He wonders how you both seem to people that may glance a little longer, perhaps like a pair of lovers simply enjoying the night in each other’s company.

Namjoon enters the code for his apartment door, the beep and the sound of the door unlocking is loud in the quiet hallway. He lets you enter first, sliding you a pair of house slippers before he leads you further in.

“Ah, don’t mind the mess...it’s not usually like this...” Namjoon scratches his cheek, eyes caught on the mess that is his coffee table. There’re wads of balled up paper strewn about it, lyrics he started and decided there was nothing he could do with them, his journal left open and his little green cactus pen abandoned. A stack of books on the floor that’s yet to be read.

He quickly walks over to tidy it, picking up the stray pieces of paper.

“Don’t worry about it,” You say, and Namjoon realises you’re not even paying mind to it. Attention fully stolen by the various art pieces he has hung on walls and settled into corners.

The living room of his apartment is large, and in an attempt to make it look less empty, it’s his usual place to put whatever catches his eye. Most of them are paintings, canvases filled with colours and scenery, a book shelf that holds none, instead, a display for finely crafted pottery, potted house plants and a tiny brass horse Taehyung gifted him some time ago. There are picture frames of his family, the boys and other abstract things he took himself filling the emptier spaces on the shelf.

Glass pane windows take up most of the wall on the other side of the room, giving a beautiful view of Hannam in all its glittering glory.

Namjoon makes his way into the kitchen, paper balls clutched in his hands and he asks if you want anything. You’ve wandered over to the shelf, looking at all the different pieces, telling him that water would be fine.

“These are really pretty,” you say, turning to him with genuine admiration. “Are all of them authentic?”

“Some of them are.” He says, getting a glass from his cupboard, and then quietly: “Most of those are from small local ceramists, some of them from charity auctions and things like that.”

There’s something surreal in having you a room away, and not making jokes with him through a phone screen. Namjoon finds himself a little at a loss, a lot clumsier than usual as he knocks his shin against the leg of an island stool. There’s a searing heat that climbs its way from the collar of his shirt to flush the skin of his neck and ears.

He sees the smile that curls the corner of your mouth when you glance at him, “Are you okay?”

Namjoon nudges the stool closer to the lip of the island counter – glaring at it as though it walked into his path just to spite him; he forgot it out this morning, it’s his fault really – and nods. “I’m good.”

He reaches you in three strides, passing you the glass of chilled water. You take small sips of it, and Namjoon tracks the motion of your throat as you swallow.

He gives you a little tour, telling you about the art and any little thing you ask after. Namjoon’s thrilled to share this part of his life with you.

When it got a little later, Namjoon stands in the kitchen, watching water boil because it’s the only thing you let him do. He feels a little embarrassed as you stand somewhere behind him, donned in an apron he barely uses. He’d suggested ordering in and in very you fashion, you’d asked when was the last time he had a home cooked meal. Honestly, it was a while ago, when he visited home.

You’d shook your head, listing the times he would call you while he was eating dinner and you eating breakfast and it would always be some sort of take-out.

You gracefully allow him to crack the pasta and put it in the pot, but that was the most of it.

“I won’t be explaining to anyone how you hurt yourself in here.” You say, lowering the heat under steaming tomato sauce. You’re making pasta, he thinks, as you’ve told him that your knowledge on Korean cuisine isn’t enough for you to try your hand at it.

“You wouldn’t have to, I hurt myself all the time.” Namjoon chuckles, “Can I at least help you cut those?” he motions at the small bowl of washed onions, not waiting for an answer, he pulls a knife from the holder at the corner of the island. He knows how to hold a knife without too much trouble, at least.

As you skilfully prepare dinner, the conversation between you both flow naturally. Talking about whatever comes to mind, anything and everything and laughing over stories. You both settle to eat afterwards, and Namjoon can’t stop singing your praises, he’d go halfway to say that you cook better than Seokjin…Maybe he’s just biassed.

After Namjoon washed the dishes – he swore he wouldn’t let you do anything more – you both took your drinks of bottled beers to the living room. Sitting on the couch, and a movie playing on the mounted tv that neither of you pay attention to, far too engrossed in talking to each other; the well of topics never seems to run dry. Namjoon thinks that’s nice, there’s always something to talk about with you, even if you’re just telling him workplace gossip from two weeks ago, or rambling on about a shell you found on a beach when you were nine.

“Oh shoot-” You turn your wrist to look at your watch, the glass face catching the overhead lights. You squint at the time, something Namjoon once made fun of you for, because who has analogue watches anymore? He doesn’t find it in him to laugh at you now though, as the realisation dawns on him before you can say: “It’s really late…”

He checks his own watch without much reason – thirty minutes past midnight – and he frowns, he’s kept you way later than he intended. “Shit yeah, my bad. Sorry I kept you.”

You wave a hand, smiling at him, “No, it’s okay!” You place the half empty bottle of beer on the little black coaster on the coffee table. You stare out at the city for a quiet moment, “How hard is it to catch a taxi from here?” you ask, and then, quietly to yourself: “Maybe I should call an uber…”

It takes Namjoon a fraction of a second for his mind to fumble, trying to grasp at the words uselessly before they tumble out into the air. His mouth moves faster, though, “Or you could just stay here?”

He blinks at you and you blink back, the words hanging in the air long enough that Namjoon wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him, never to spit him out again. He stumbles with his words, dropping them as though the gears of his mind are grinding to a halt, coating in rust. “Um-If th…uh…you don…”

Then, you smile, your cheeks squishing your eyes. “Only if that’s okay.”

“More than.” Namjoon can’t help his smile back; grateful you didn’t mention him tripping over himself. “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

Twenty minutes later, Namjoon is digging through his drawers for something for you to wear for the night, the blush that had flushed his cheeks earlier had returned with a vengeance as he thought about the fact that you’re staying the night and would be wearing his clothes. He’s still beside himself, not too sure what to do, because this is so far beyond the two of you being friends and talking through calls and texts.

He settles on a long-sleeved tee shirt and black sweatpants and meets you back in the living room, where you stand at the window watching the lights twinkle down below and in the distance. When he announces his return, you turn, looking a little worried and Namjoon once again wonders if he’s crossed a line somewhere. You smile softly, taking the bundle of clothes from his arms.

“Thank you…” You say, and then, softer: “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Namjoon plants his hands on your shoulder, squeezing gently before he leads you back the way he came, following your steps closely with his own. He stops you right outside the bathroom door, “Yes, I’m sure.”

Namjoon lays awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. You’re sleeping in the room across from him, well, he assumes you’re asleep by now. The clock at his bedside blinks sleepily, but Namjoon finds it hard to let his mind settle.

When you’d come out of the bathroom earlier, a little over thirty minutes ago, you were practically drowning in his clothes. You’d rolled the legs of the pants a few times but it still swam around your ankles and the tee was at least three times your size.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in oversized clothing before. It’s simply the fact that it’s his. It’s been a good few months since he’s met you in that cafe, and a good few weeks since he’s realised he liked you.

It may have happened when you went off on one of your many rambles about something or the other. He’s not quite certain. After spending the entire day with you, Namjoon likes you in his space. Not once have you given him the need to run in the opposite direction, not once have you broken his trust.

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, kicking his feet under the blanket. Making up his mind, he gets out of bed and marches confidently to his door. He pulls it open and the edge of the door hits his toe. He stands for a moment, with his eyes closed, brows furrowed in pain and a hand over his mouth keeping the pained yelp trapped. “...Ow.”

He takes the five steps across the hallway, raises a hand to knock, takes a breath and turns on his heel. He walks a little ways up the hall.

“Okay. C’mon, it’s not that hard.” He mutters to himself, and then looks back at the door, “This is very hard.”

He’s not sure. He’s sure of himself, and his feelings, but...what if you’re not in the same place he is?

“Joon?” You poke your head out the door, and Namjoon startles. “You good?”

You didn’t look like you went to sleep and he woke you up, though your hair is a bit tousled and Namjoon would like to hope that you’d been just as restless as he was.

“Yeah...”

You give him a look that says you aren’t too convinced, “I heard a thud.”

“Oh...” The ache in his toe rings with a dull echo, and he looks down at his feet and then back at you, “Door...I jammed it against my toe.”

Your eyes flicker downward, and even in the dimly lit hallway he could see your amusement. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, happens all the time.”

“I’m concerned at the fact that you think accidentally hurting yourself this often is normal.” You laugh and Namjoon makes his way over to you but stops short and stares up at the ceiling. You’ve ditched the pants he gave you.

“What are we looking at?”

He glances at you and you’re also looking at the ceiling.

“You’re not wearing pants.”

You must’ve caught yourself, because there’s a soft gasp and the shuffling of your feet. When Namjoon brings his gaze back down you’re peeking at him from behind the door.

“Sorry!” You squeak out, “Sleeping in long pants is uncomfy.”

“It’s okay, I sleep naked sometimes so...” Namjoon couldn’t stop the words before they hit the air, and for a moment they simply hang there as you both stare at each other.

“Not that you should sleep naked...I mean – you can if you want to, really, doesn’t bug me at all...” He’s really trying to reign it in here. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping like that. As long as you’re comfortable!”

“Relax,” You laugh, sticking your hand out through the gap in the door and the frame to wave him down, “I’m not sleeping naked. I get cold fast.”

“There’s a solution for that.” Another pause, and Namjoon realises how his words sounded as you raise a brow at him, “The heater. There’s a heater in there. I wasn’t suggesting that I could...”

Namjoon sighs, he really does put his foot right in his mouth. So he does what’s best for everyone and just closes it.

Just when he was beginning to think that this moment would be at the top of his 'Awkward situations you’ve created' list, the gap widens just a bit and there’s something shy about your small smile and the way your eyes stay glued to the floor.

“I wouldn’t mind...” Your words are soft and Namjoon wonders for a moment if he misheard. This is the most shy he’s seen you in a while, looking up at him through your eyelashes, fingers caught in the hem of your borrowed tee-shirt; wringing the life out of the piece you hold.

“Yeah?” His voice is equally as soft, giving you room to change your mind if you so wished. You nod mutely and Namjoon gives you a second more to think carefully, only stepping forward when you step back and pull the door with you.

You leave the door open a crack, so that the light from the hallway bleeds into the darkness, and Namjoon watches as you walk over to the bed and crawl under the blankets.

There really isn’t much to this room, equipped with the essentials and a few nick-knacks and a bookshelf he’d put his other books on because there was no space on his other ones. There was a landscape painting hanging above the headboard, something he put there to give the room a bit more personality.

You’re peeking at him from the blankets, the soft mounds of material hiding most of your face from view. It’s a lot cooler here than his room, though the floor is cold under his bare feet and he briefly wondered if you need socks.

He walks soundlessly over and out of habit, he’s already pulling his tee-shirt over his head but pauses when it hangs on the length of his arms. “Shit – sorry.” He pokes his head back through the neck of the tee, “I run hot so I don’t usually sleep with a shirt on.”

“Is that why you sleep naked, too?”

Namjoon is grateful for the dark as heat runs up his neck. He takes it in stride, though, “Yeah. Clothes are constricting sometimes.”

There’s something else in your voice when you giggle, and there’s a shifting of the blankets. “You can keep it off if you want.”

Namjoon hums, “Are you okay with that?”

“As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Your comfort matters, too.” It’s not as though you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before; you shaded video calls during his workout sessions. Even though most of those are spent with you trying not to look at him – Namjoon’s caught you staring more times than he could count. This is different, though, he reminds himself; you’re no longer oceans away.

“I’m comfortable with it.”

“Okay.” Namjoon pulls his shirt off and folds it neatly, placing it on the nightstand before he climbs into bed next to you.

His side of the bed is cold, but he could feel your warmth just inches away. He turns to face you, lying on his side, finding your eyes in the dark.

“Hi.” You’re already facing him and in the darkness, Namjoon smiles.

“Hi.”

Your toes brush his under the covers and Namjoon hisses softly, “Are you cold?”

“A little...”

“Want me to get closer?” Namjoon whispers, and to his surprise, you move over first.

There’s a slight chill to your skin as you settle, resting your head where Namjoon extended his arm and then, close enough that your legs tangle with his and the ghost of your breath tickles his chest. You smell like him, like watermelon and mint; He’s once again grateful for the darkness.

Namjoon lets his other arm rest in the dip where the softness of your stomach meets your waist. It’s quiet when you both stop shuffling about, and your breaths are a tad nervous on the inhale.

“Okay?” Namjoon tries his best not to disturb the quiet, speaking softly. He feels you nod, and a slow flow of warm air as you sigh.

“You’re really warm.”

Namjoon chuckles, and silently, holds you tighter. He lets his chin rest on the top of your head, your hair tickles his nose. It smells faintly of his shampoo – he’s never loved it more. He wants to stay there forever, wrapped in the sweet, gentle scent of honeysuckle, melon and something uniquely you.

Namjoon wonders – and he knows, there’s no point in dwelling on the thought – what would’ve happened if he’d walked out of the cafe that day. Held captive by his responsibilities and his duty to keep his group and their image as spotless as possible. It would’ve been different had you not been the way you are.

He calls your name softly, and he wonders if you can feel the rapid pace of his heart beneath the warmth of your palm. It kicks against his sternum like he’s been running, and he takes a breath. There’s something unspoken here, in this darkened room where only the walls are listening.

Somewhere along the way, during the days that dragged the weeks into months – somewhere – a line was blurred.

Sleep wraps around your tired hum like a warm blanket, the sound of the sheets shifting further shattering the quiet as you lean back a little to look at him.

He lets his hand find the warmth of your cheek, moving until his thumb is resting against the front of your ear and his fingers are nestled in the softness of your hair.

“Wanna ask you something.” He says.

“What’s it?”

Distractedly, Namjoon’s fingers rub tentative circles in your scalp and catches the way your eyes flutter at the feeling.

He smiles when your eyes open and meet his, with the dark he grows confident, and softly: “Can I kiss you?”

His words hang in the air, heavy with desire and affection. In that moment, the weight of his request carries with it a profound realisation.

It’s not just a simple act of physical connection he seeks, but rather a deeper, more profound expression of love. His request bears the weight of all the emotions, vulnerabilities, and hopes he has placed upon this relationship.

The answer now rests in your hands, and Namjoon waits with bated breath for your response.

“Please.” Your answer dances between you both, and Namjoon angles your head upward slightly, and closes the gap with a tentative kiss. Your lips are soft and taste of mint when he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth. He doesn’t ask for much more, gentle in the way that he pulls you closer, fingers tangling in the soft hair at your nape.

In this moment, there is no need for words. The brush of your skin against his, the sweet taste of your kiss, and the way your bodies gravitate towards each other speak volumes.

Namjoon cherishes every second, every breath shared, as he grows more intoxicated by you.

His heart pounding in his chest, all thoughts of caution and restraint fade away. Giving in completely to his desire and lust, he pulls you close, not wanting this moment to end. The kiss is now an embrace, with both of you giving in fully.

His lips caress yours, his touch slowly becoming more and more intimate. His tongue finds yours, and Namjoon swallows the sound you make.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, you both take in a deep breath. It’s like everything around you becomes blurred, with only the two of you visible.

He runs his hands through your hair, looking into your eyes. He draws closer again, resting his forehead against yours.

He’s quiet, still for a moment, simply watching you in the dark. Your fingers tap softly against his chest, confusion and worry sit on the furrow of your brow.

“What wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, your eyes each and then your forehead where he lingers. “It’s nothing... it’s just...”

“I want you to understand...” He continues softly after a breath, “My life can be overwhelming, it’s hard even for me some days. There’s times when I feel like I’ve worked hard only to get myself trapped in a bottle. Dangling above the view of millions who think I should live my life their way.

It isn’t easy. There’s always a risk that maybe one of us would slip up or something else. Privacy is something hard won and I’d hate for anything to happen that puts you in a position that you’ll regret.”

Namjoon lays his worries bare like cards going all in, focusing on the texture of your hair between his fingers. He allows you a moment to absorb his words, to really think.

The life of an idol isn’t for everyone; so many have cracked under the pressure of it. The life of an idol’s partner does not come any easier. Your relationship would be kept buried like a dirty secret to feed into the delusions of a certain variety of ‘fans’, all for the safety of the people involved.

If by some miracle, or a stroke of good luck, you choose to continue onward despite the challenges it would bring, Namjoon would be eternally grateful and he would spend his days making sure you never regret that choice.

“Joon...” Your hand meets his wrist, curling at his pulse. “I’ve known from the beginning what it would be like. You’ve got fans all over the world who adore you, and who would do just about anything to get close to you. It’s not easy to live a life like that, to be constantly watched and judged.

“But I knew that going in,” you continue. “I may not have expected to fall in love with you, but now that it’s happened, nothing else matters. I know what it’s like to have eyes always on you, and I’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

“You...you love me?” Namjoon's mind feels as though it blanked, though somewhere in the back among the cogs grinding to a halt your words have registered. Right now, he could only tunnel focus on that one thing.

“Oh god.” There’s a smile blooming on Namjoon’s lips as you groan an embarrassed sound, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He laughs softly, leaning back to catch your gaze but you evade him, bringing your hands up to cover your face instead.

Namjoon briefly wonders if this is what a moon orbiting a planet feels like. Ganymede does not question the gravity of Jupiter. It simply orbits the planet, accepting its fate. And Namjoon accepts his fate of being drawn to you. He is not swept up by your presence, but rather firmly grounded, and held in place. His feelings for you are as natural as the pull of gravity, as certain as the rotation of the Earth.

In your presence, everything shifts, and nothing else becomes important. Your gravity becomes his universe, and he is perfectly content to reside in it.

“I love you too.”

You peek at him through your fingers, and Namjoon doesn’t let the moment pass, prying your hands gently away from your face. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your lips, there’s nothing gentle about it this time – all teeth and tongue and quiet sounds that Namjoon swallows. He eases you onto your back with a gentle hand, slotting himself between your legs.

He trails his kisses down your neck, catching the skin with his teeth and sucking to leave his mark. He trails his hand down the length of your thigh, over the band of your underwear and under the soft cotton tee-shirt. He brushes his fingers along the curve of your hip, feeling the warmth of your skin and the way you tremble beneath his touch. He travels further still, up your ribcage to your breasts, feeling the soft curves and the way your nipples harden beneath his caress.

He feels the goosebumps that erupted at his touch, feels the hitch of your breath in your chest. Namjoon sucks a mark against your collarbone, he shifts so that he’s at your side, giving his hand more room.

He traces feather light touches along the expanse of your stomach and you giggle into his kiss. His fingers glide just above the waistband of your underwear, teasing until you whine his name.

Namjoon chuckles as he pulls away, “Can I?”

Words seem like more than you can manage and you nod. Namjoon gives a fleeting kiss, as his fingers dip lower, pushing aside your underwear to find your heat. The arousal clinging to your panties cools rapidly against the back of his hand, and Namjoon dips a finger into the warmth of you.

He keeps his eyes on your face as he does, watching the way your eyebrows furrow and your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. He nudges his nose against your cheek and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. He’s barely touching you, keeping his fingers just shy of where he knows you want them the most.

It’s a while of teasing you this way, and Namjoon likes the way frustration bleeds into your soft, breathless moans when he circles your clit with his slick fingers and pulls away. He gives your neck and chest most of his attention, with gentle squeezes and his tongue tracing abstract patterns, drawing your nipples into his mouth with soft tugs of his teeth.

When the next whine of his name comes with teary eyes, Namjoon takes pity on you. The wet, tightness of you makes him groan and he pulls a hissing breath through his teeth, pressing his erection against your hip where he ruts in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He curls them upward, your back bows and he presses the heel of his palm against your clit. He kisses your cheek when your fingers wrap around his wrist, “I got you, baby.”

You gasp, your pleasure mounting until you can’t take it anymore. You writhe beneath his touch as you reach the peak of pleasure, calling out his name as you fall over the edge.

Namjoon gives you a moment to breathe, running his hand along your thighs and tummy. He takes your face in his hands once your breaths evened out, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing in your scent. His lips find yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless.

“Good?”

“Fuck – yeah.” Your fingers tug at his hair and Namjoon groans.

“Want me to go on?” He asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple and then, almost jumps right out of his skin when your other hand squeezes at his cock in his sweats. He lets out a chuckle that gets muddled by a moan that rumbles in his chest. “Baby.”

Namjoon sees the smile that curls in your lips, the innocent way you blink at him. You hum softly when he mouths at your jaw, a shudder runs through him and he can’t stop himself chasing the friction with a buck of his hips.

“You wan’it?” Namjoon’s drunk on you and you’ve barely done anything. You’re tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants, and he groans, letting his forehead rest against your chest when your hand wraps around his cock and tugs upward. “Ah, Fuck.”

He feels your hand against his chest and lies back when you push gently. He watches as you tug his tee-shirt and your underwear off, and he quickly follows to take his sweats off.

He slides his hands up your thighs when you settle on his. A breath catches in his throat when you wrap both hands around the width of his cock. His fingers gripping where your thighs meet your hips, and he watches with heavy lidded eyes as you lean forward slightly and spit. The dollop of saliva lands deftly on the head of his cock and Namjoon’s eyes roll back as you focus there.

You’re twisting your wrists, the slick sound of it and Namjoon’s harsh breaths are the only sounds in the quiet room. When he feels his lower stomach clench he grabs your wrist and still your movement.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of literally anything else, “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.”

Your giggle rings like a bell and Namjoon smiles at the sound. Sitting up he pulls you forward, trapping his throbbing cock between his stomach and the heat of your cunt. He groans at how wet you are, blunt teeth nipping at your jaw. “Wanna ride it?” He breathes, “Hm? Wanna fuck me?”

He feels your nod, feels the shuddering breath you release against his hair. “Words, Princess.”

“Yeah, wanna fuck you.”

Namjoon helps you balance, guiding his cock – slick with your juices – to your entrance. He sucks on your tongue as you come down slowly, and Namjoon swears he’s seeing the pearly gates behind his tightly shut eyes when your walls flutter.

He lies back, giving you a moment and short, shallow thrusts. You look so beautiful above him, your hair a rumpled mess, throat and chest covered in bruises of his own making. He gives a single thrust, a hand sliding up your sweat slicked skin to palm at your breast, his other hand landing a harsh slap against your ass.

You squeak out a moan and Namjoon chuckles, doing it again, “C’mon, baby girl. Fuck me.”

Your hands press against his tummy, hips rising slowly and coming back down. He lets you set the pace, content to lie back and take what you give. He could feel your arousal dripping down his shaft, and Namjoon tightens his grip on your hips.

He plants his feet flat on the bed, meeting you halfway with his thrusts. He pulls you down with a hand behind your neck, when your chest meets his he wraps his other arm around your waist and sets a brutal pace.

“Feels so fucking good.” Namjoon groans, “Pussy’s so good—fuck.”

You’re moaning right in his ear, whining, breathless sounds that makes him fuck you harder. Without warning, your thighs squeeze at his sides and you tremble above him. Your orgasm pools in his groin in a gush of warmth, your moans pitching an octave with his name and Namjoon swears, fucking you through it.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Namjoon groans, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He slows his thrusts and gently eases you off him, he settles behind you when you’re on your stomach, lifting your hips to meet his.

Your moans are muffled by the sheets when he thrusts forward. He holds you steady with a hand gripping your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He focuses his thrusts on the spot that makes your walls tighten and drip.

He looks down to watch his cock disappear inside you, and the way your ass jiggles from the force of his thrusts. “Fuc—M’gonna cum. Where you want it?”

You meet his thrusts halfway, “Inside.”

“You sure?” Namjoon pants, slowing down just a bit.

“Yeah—wanna feel you. Please, daddy.”

Lightning shoots down his spine, curses in his mother tongue trapped behind his teeth as he spills his release inside you. He holds you pressed against him, balls deep, moaning at every throb of his cock.

He pulls you closer when he lays down, peppering kisses all over your face and wherever he could reach. When you’ve both caught your breaths, you finally speak, chin propped on your hand on his chest.

“Daddy, huh? That does it for you?” You’re giggling and Namjoon throws an arm over his eyes, groaning.

“Shut up.” He can’t help his smile, “You’re the one who said it, so I think it’s the other way around actually.”

“We’re both gonna lose if we go there.”

A half hour later, after the sheets in the guest bedroom were stripped and you and him are settled for the night in his room, Namjoon wouldn’t change a thing if he had the power to. He’d go into that cafe and sit at your table every time.

Ganymede has no choice in the matter, he would orbit Jupiter as long as she allows it.

Tagging (Bold means i couldn't tag ):) : @xpeachesncream @luaspersona @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @eren-fall @blog-name-idk @idkreallys-blog @thvunaise @menialthoughts

[msfantasy-comics]

The Opposites Attract

Dick Grayson x Reader

Summary: A Head Cannon on which Dick Grayson and Y/n oppose each other yet remain wholly compatible.

Warning: Y/n is depicted as angsty and a little feral. 

Masterlist - Tip Jar

Opposites attract they say.

Yet Dick and Y/n are such polar opposites surely their difference outweigh each other.

Despite it all, the two love birds gravitate each other due to their completing differences.

Extrovert vs. Introvert

Dick is insanely outgoing and is recharged by socialising. His perfect setting is in a crowded rowdy rooms where the conversation moves like wildfire. Wild and Abrupt.

Y/n on the other hand, prefers a quite space with one-on-one conversations.

In typical extraverted fashion. Dick adopts the introverted Y/n and encourages her to step outside her comfort zone and talk to others.

But it’s just not in her nature.

How the hell are you meant to jump into a conversation?

How are you meant to have a say on a topic when three other people are talking over each other to get their 2 cents in?

You gave up almost immediately and retreated back to your safe corner always from the shoulder bashing and elbow jabbing walk way.

Dick was initially disappointed to see you give up so quickly until he noticed that you were carrying on your socialising in your own way.

You sat silently as strangers poured their heart out to you.

Silently nodding and humming in agreement every now and then before the person sighed, thanked you for listening and walked off.

Dick really admires that about you.

Dick: “Need some company.”

Y/n: “Only if you bring me the good vibes.”

Optimist vs. Pessimist

Dick is a buzzing bundle of bountiful energy.

Dick is never short on absurdly positive outcomes despite all odds indicating otherwise.

Why live in a delusional state? You know the realities of life.

And the reality is that life can be shit and it doesn’t turn out well for everyone no matter how much they try or desperately scramble to achieve their hopes.

Hope is pointless.

There is just something obnoxiously wonderful about Dick.

How is it that your boy wonder lights a flame in you that fills you with certainty that all will be right as long as he is here?

You greatly admire how infectious Dicks positivity can be.

Y/n: “Why keep sending them to Arkham only to escape and ruin lives? Might as well just put an end to their burdensome presence.”

Dick: “Oh honey nooooo. Everyone deserves a chance at redemption. Snuffing out the life of a person doesn’t solve the root of the issue.”

Y/n: “Who cares! Nothing matters in the end anyway, we will all die and become obsolete. Only to let the next generation bitch and moan about the inequality of it all.”

Dick: “Ah, my precious little sunshine can be such a downer, yes you can.”

*Condescendingly pinches cheeks*

Secretive vs. Open

Dick just wants the best of both worlds.

To be the figure head for heroism, hope, peace and safety, without an of the consequences of having your image publicly known.

Dick would never want to endanger the lives of those around him due to his passions in crime fighting.

Therefore, he must maintain the secrecy of the bat and the mask.

You, however, don’t understand how or why your boy wonder hides his true identity.

It’s not like Dick Grayson is an every day normal civilian.

He’s a fricken heir to Gotham wealthiest philanthropist.

It’s not like he doesn’t have any privacy on either alter egos.

But the Bats secret is not your own to share.

So instead you live freely by your own rules.

You admit your identities and aren’t afraid to show the public your true self.

You honestly couldn’t care less about public perception.

Dick, admires your unapologetic lifestyle.

Aggressive Random: “You shouldn’t -“

Y/n: “Piss Off- no one asked you.”

Dick: “Ah sweetie… maybe you should listen to what they have to say.”

Y/n: “I couldn’t give a rats!”

[ask-the-prose]

Writing Mental Health With Compassion

I've gotten a few questions regarding depicting characters with mental health challenges and conditions and I wanted to expand a little more on how to depict these characters with compassion for the real communities represented by these characters.

A little about this guide: this is, as always, coming from a place of love and respect for the writing community and the groups affected by this topic at large. I'm also not coming at this from the outside, I have certain mental illnesses that affect my daily life. With that, I'll say that my perspective may be biased, and as with all writing advice, you should think critically about what is being told to you and how.

So let's get started!

Research

I'm sure we're all tired of hearing the phrase "do your research," but unfortunately it is incredibly important advice. I have a guide that touches on how to do research here, if you need a place to get started.

When researching a mental health condition that we do not experience, we need to do so critically, and most importantly, compassionately. While your characters are not people, they are assigned traits that real people do have, and so your depiction of these traits can have an impact on people who face these conditions themselves.

I've found that reddit is a decent resource for finding threads of people talking about their personal experiences with certain illnesses. For example, bipolar disorder has several subreddits that have very open and candid discussions about bipolar, how it impacts lives, and small things that people who don't have bipolar don't tend to think about.

It's important to note that these spaces are not for you. They are spaces for people to talk about their experiences in a place without judgment or fear or stigma. These are not places for people to give out writing advice. Do NOT flood subreddits for people seeking support with questions that may make others feel like an object to be studied. It's not cool or fair to them for writers to enter their space and start asking questions when they're focused on getting support. Be courteous of the people around you.

Diagnosis

I have the belief that for most stories, a diagnosis for your characters is unnecessary. I have a few reasons for thinking this way.

Firstly, mental health diagnoses are important for treatment, but they're also a giant sign written across your medical documents that says, “I'm crazy!” Doctors may try to remain unbiased when they see mental health diagnoses, but anybody with a diagnosis can say that doctors rarely succeed. This translates to a lot of people never getting diagnoses, never seeking treatment, or refusing to talk about their diagnosis if they do have one.

Secondly, I've seen posts discuss “therapy speak” in fiction, and this is one of those instances where a diagnosis and extensive research may make you vulnerable to it. People don't tend to discuss their diagnoses freely and they certainly don't tend to attribute their behaviors as symptoms.

Finally, this puts you, the writer, into a position where you treat your characters less like people and story devices and more like a list of symptoms and behavioral quirks. First and foremost, your characters serve your story. If they don't feel like people then your characters may fall flat. When it comes to mental illness in characters, the people aspect is the most important part. Mentally ill people are people, not symptoms.

Those are my top three reasons for believing that most characters will never need a specific diagnosis. You will likely never need to depict the difference between bipolar and borderline because the story itself does not need that distinction or to reveal a diagnosis at all. I feel that having a diagnosis in mind for a character has more pitfalls than advantages.

How does treatment work?

Treating mental health conditions may appear in your story. There are a number of ways treatments affect daily life and understanding the levels of care and what those levels treat will help you depict the appropriate settings for your characters.

The levels of care range from minimally restrictive and minimal care to intensive in-patient care in a secure hospital setting.

Regular or semi-regular therapy is considered outpatient care. This is generally the least restrictive. Your characters may or may not also take medications, in which case they may also see a psychiatrist to prescribe those medications. There is a difference between therapists, psychiatrists, and psychologists. Therapists do not prescribe medications, psychiatrists prescribe medications after an evaluation, and psychologists will (sometimes) do both. (I'm US, so this may work differently depending where you are. You should always research the specific setting of your story.) Generally, a person with a mental illness or mental health condition will see both an outpatient therapist and an outpatient psychiatrist for their general continuing care.

Therapists will see their patients anywhere from once in a while as-needed to twice weekly. Psychiatrists will see new patients every few weeks until they report stabilizing results, and then they will move to maintenance check-ins every 90-ish days.

If the patient reports severe symptoms, or worsening symptoms, they will be moved up to more intensive care, also known as IOP (Intensive Outpatient Program). This is usually a group-therapy setting for between 3-7 hours per day between 3-5 days a week. The group-therapy is led by a Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC) or Licensed Professional Social Worker (LPSW). Groups are structured sessions with multiple patients teaching coping mechanisms and focusing on treatment adjustment. IOP’s tend to expect patients to see their own outpatient psychiatrist, but I've encountered programs that have their own in-house psychiatrists.

If the patient still worsens, or is otherwise needing more intensive care, they'll move up to PHP (Partial Hospitalization Program). This can look different per facility, but I've seen them to be more intensive in hours and content than IOP. They also usually have in-house psychiatrists doing diagnostic psychological evaluations. It's very possible for characters with “mild” symptoms to go long periods of time, even most of their lives, without having had a diagnosis. PHP’s tend to need a diagnosis so that they can address specific concerns and help educate the patient on their condition and how it may manifest.

Next step up is residential care. Residential care is a boarding hospital setting. Patients live in the hospital and focus entirely on treatment. Individual programs may differ in what's allowed in, how much contact the patients are allowed to have, and what the treatment focus is. Residential programs are often utilized for addiction recovery. Good residential programs will care about the basis for the addiction, such as underlying mental health issues that the patient may be self-medicating for. Your character may come away with a diagnosis, or they may not. Residential programs aren't exclusively for addictions though, and can be useful for severe behavioral concerns in teenagers or any number of other concerns a patient may have that manifest chronically but do not require intensive inpatient restriction.

Inpatient hospital stays are the highest level of care, and this tends to be what people are talking about when they tell jokes about “grippy socks.” These programs are inside the hospital and patients are highly restricted on what they can and cannot have, they cannot leave unless approved by the hospital staff (the hospital's psychiatrist tends to have the final say), and contact with the outside world is highly regulated. During the days, there are group therapy sessions and activities structured very carefully to maintain routine. Staff will regulate patient hygiene, food and sleep routines, and alone time.

Inpatient hospital programs are controversial among people with mental illness and mental health concerns. I find that they have use, but they are also not an easy or first step to take when dealing with a mental health condition. Patients are not allowed sharp objects, metal objects, shoelaces, cutlery, and pens or pencils. Visitors are not allowed to bring these items in, staff are not allowed these items either. This is for the safety of the patients. Typically, if someone is involuntarily admitted into the inpatient hospital program, it is due to an authority (the hospital staff) deeming the patient as a danger to themselves or others. Whether they came in of their own will (voluntary) or not does not matter in how the program operates. Everyone is treated the same. If someone is an active danger to themselves, then they may be on 24-hour suicide watch. They are not allowed to have any time alone. No, not even for the bathroom, or while sleeping, or during group sessions.

Inpatient Hospital Programs

This is a place of high curiosity for those who have never been admitted into inpatient care, so I'd like to explain a little more in detail how these programs work, why they're controversial, but how they can be useful in certain situations. I do have personal experience in this area, but as always, your mileage may vary.

When admitting, hospital staff are the final say. Not the police. The police hold some sway, but most often, if someone is brought in by the police, they are likely to be admitted. They are only involuntarily admitted when the situation demands: the staff have determined the person to be an imminent danger to themselves or others. This is obviously subjective, and can easily be abused. A good program with decent staff will do everything they can to convince the patient to admit voluntarily if they feel it is necessary, but ultimately if the patient declines and the staff don't feel they can make the clinical argument that admittance is necessary, the patient is free to leave. It should be noted that doctors and clinicians have to worry about possibly losing their licenses to practice. They don't want to fuck around with involuntary admittance if they don't have to, and they don't want potentially dangerous people to walk away.

Once admitted, the patient will have to remove their clothing and put on a set of hospital scrubs. These are mostly made of paper, and most often do not have pockets, but I have seen sets that do have pockets (very handy, tbh). They are not allowed to take anything into the hospital wing except disability-required devices such as glasses, hearing aids, mobility aids, etc. Most programs will require removing piercings, but not all of them, in my experience.

The nurses will also do a physical examination, where they will make note of any open wounds, major scars, tattoos, and other skin abrasions that may be relevant.

The patient will then be led to their bed, where they will receive any approved clothing items from outside, a copy of their patient rights, and a copy of the floor code of conduct and rules, a schedule, and any other administrative information necessary for the program to run efficiently and legally.

Group sessions include group-therapy, activities, coping skills, anger management, anxiety management, and for some reason, karaoke. There is a lot of coloring involved, but only with crayons. A good program will focus heavily on skills and therapeutic activities. Bad programs will phone it in and focus on karaoke and activities. Most hospitals will have a chaplain, and some will include a religious group session. I've never attended these, so I can't speak for them.

Unspoken rules are the hidden pieces of the inpatient programs that patients tend to find out during their first visit. There is no leaving the program until the doctor agrees to it. The doctor will only agree to it if they deem you ready to leave, and you are only ready to leave if you have been compliant to treatment and have seen positive results in the most dangerous symptoms (homicidal or suicidal ideations). Noncompliance can look like: refusing your prescribed medications (which you have the right to do at any time for any reason. That does not mean that there won't be consequences. This is a particularly controversial point.), refusing to attend groups (chapel is not included in this point, but that doesn't mean it's actually discounted. Another controversial point.), violent or disruptive outbursts such as yelling or throwing things, and refusing to sleep or eat at the approved and appointed times. All of this may sound like the hospital is restricting your rights beyond reason, but I've seen the use, and I've seen the abuse. Medications are sometimes necessary, and often patients seriously prefer having medication. Groups are important to a person's treatment, and refusing to go can be a sign of noncompliance or worsening symptoms. If someone is too depressed or anxious to go to group, then they're probably not ready to leave the hospital where the structure is gone and they must self-regulate their treatment. Violent or disruptive outbursts tend to be a sign of worsening symptoms in general, but even the best of us lose our tempers from time to time when put into a highly stressful situation like an inpatient hospital stay. The hospital is supposed to be a place of healing, for many it is. But for many more, it is a place of systematic abuse and restriction.

Discharge processes can be long and arduous and INCREDIBLY stressful for the patient. Oftentimes, they won't know their discharge date until the day of, or perhaps the day before. Though the date can change at any time. The discharge process requires the supervising psychiatrist to meet with the treatment team and then the patient to determine if the patient had progressed enough to be safely discharged. Discharge also requires a set outpatient plan in place, such as a therapy appointment within a week, a psychiatrist visit, or admittance into a lower level of care. This is where social workers are involved. Patients are not allowed access to cell phones or the internet. They cannot make their own appointments with their outpatient care providers without a phone number and phone access. Some floors will have phone access for this reason, others will insist the social worker arrange appointments and discharge plans. Social workers are often incredibly overworked, with several patients on their caseload.

The patient cannot be discharged until the social worker has coordinated the discharge plan to the doctor's approval. Most often, unfortunately, the patient rarely receives regular communication regarding the progress of their discharge. I've been discharged with as much as a day's notice to two hours notice.

Part 2 Coming Soon

This guide got longer than expected! Out of respect for my followers dashboard, I will be cutting it here and adding a Part 2 later on.

If you find that there are more specific questions you'd like answered, or topics you'd like covered, send an ask or reply to this post with what you'd like to see in Part 2.

– Indy

[recreationalfanfics]

Hello sweetcheeks If you don't mind whether I can request Shiva, Hades, Hercules and Tesla with the very beautiful goddess S/O whose beauty even exceeds Aphrodite, S/O is very elegant and friendly to humans on earth. S/O also really loves immortals. You can freely ignore my request, don't forget to take care of your health and always drink water

Again, I only really follow the anime so I'm only writing for Shiva and Hercules but either way, I hope you like it!

Shiva (+ Wives):

- He loves you and all his wives equally, and while you were recently added into the relationship BUT TRUST ME WHEN I SAY THAT YOU NEVER FEEL LEFT OUT, not when Shiva himself has to keep all four of his arms wrapped around you just because Parvati, Kali, and Durga HAVE BEEN HOGGING YOUR ATTENTION ALL DAY.

- Shiva is so proud to show you off to the other gods, honestly. Making them all jealous and inflating his own ego a bit more.

- He doesn't just show you off, he likes to show off for you. When he's playfully fighting another God then he'll be sure to really flex his muscles and put on a show for you and wink, making you all shy and flustered which is ADORABLE in his eyes.

- He also doesn't just love you for your looks of course, your heart is so incredibly kind and loving. Which contrasts very nicely to his recklessness and sometimes violent side. He smiles seeing you with his son because you always uplift him and treat him like any mother would with their child.

- HE ALSO LOVES TO DANCE WITH YOU AND SO DO HIS WIVES. Like, they invite you and you stun them with your gracefulness and elegance, such poise and control in your steps.

- You were absolutely enchanting, even by a God's standards and everyday, Shiva is just in awe of you. When he's bored and lazy, he asks you if you can dance with him and gives you big puppy eyes to convince you so you roll your eyes and stand up and he gets all happy.

- Your love for humans can lead to...conflicts. Like, he already knew it and he found it odd but endearing but he still has his own opinions about them and they're not very good until Ragnarok happens.

- But, like, when the God's vote for humanity's execution and you're horrified at how they could all be so cruel, Shiva just genuinely can't wrap his head around it but he'll comfort you, a bit guiltily.

- So there is a gap in which you need space from them because its an important topic and while all couples fight, it feels colder in his home because he and everyone else misses you so much.

- NO BUT ALSO, LIKE, AFTER HIS FIGHT, HE STARTS TO SEE WHY YOU LIKE THEM AND HE APOLOGIZES and you're just concerned because HIS ARMS ARE LITERALLY FUCKED UP and you just dote on him.

- Ngl, his wives kinda hate him for a bit now (not actually) because while you help him recover, he acts like a big baby just so you can comfort him and coddle him and give him all your attention and shooting his wives a smug smirk as they roll their eyes but smile as you take care of him because it feels so nice to have you back.

Hercules:

- PLEASE YOU TWO ARE LITERALLY A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN, LIKE, YOU GUYS ARE LEGIT THE SWEETEST COUPLE EVER😭

- The fact that he used to be human was what drew you to him, like, Ares and the other Greek gods were celebrating and Ares is all: "Woah, (Y/n)'s been looking at you the entire time." and Loki bitterly pouts: "Ugh, of course the human turned God caught her attention right off the bat."

- Hercules doesn't understand why they were making a big deal and turned around to see you...only to make direct eye contact with you and immediately getting all shy and flustered. You greeted him with such warmness and you talked about what it was like for him to become a God, then he started to talk about his life as a human.

- And unlike other gods who side eyed him or looked down on him, your eyes were filled with such wonder and awe at him. You had so many questions for humanity and the way you seemed to be fascinated with them makes it so clear to Hercules that you truly do have a passion for humanity just like him.

- THE OTHER GODS THINK YOU'RE SO WEIRD FOR IT BUT YOU GUYS DON'T CARE, he answers your questions about humanity and even takes you back to his home when he visits his friends and they're ALL STUNNED BY YOU.

- "I-Is that Aphrodite!?" and you just look at them and smile and their hearts beat 10x faster as you're all: "Aw, you humans truly are too kind. I am not the Goddess of Love, I am the Goddess of (insert what you want to be the Goddess of)."

- Your elegance also compliments his strength and almost brutish build, one thing you absolutely adore about Hercules is despite his strength, he always treats you so gently and is always mindful of his strength when he's with you.

- PLEASE HE ABSOLUTELY LOVES TO CARRY YOU ADMIRE YOUR BEAUTIFUL FORM, NO MATTER YOUR BODY TYPE, YOU ARE THE MOST PERFECT THING HE HAS EVER SEEN.

- No because when he volunteers to fight for the God's, you were confused but he explains why he's doing it and you just supporting him and having nothing more than the utmost confidence that he can guide the God's into seeing their wrongs.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Western Nights.

You don't expect to bump into your dad's best friend Javier in a church basement on the outskirts of town. You also didn't expect to fall in love with him. Life seems to be full of surprises - and Javier was the biggest surprise of all.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Javier Peña x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 3.6k

Warnings - cursing. sexual content at the end. talk and themes of PTSD. brief mention of domestic abuse. several mentions of panic attacks. age gap (but all very legal and consensual). smut in future chapters.

Author's Note - it's finally here!! i've had this idea for so long and i'm so glad to finally put pen to paper. the dads best friend trope is one of my biggest weaknesses and javier peña is my favourite character ever, so naturally this was born. this fic will tackle some topics that may be a little tough for some people, so make sure to read the warnings!! can't wait to get this up on its feet and running, and for javi and peaches story to develop <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! <3

Masterlist. Requests.

Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Healing isn't linear. Recovery is a journey. This is a choice I have to make. No one else can make it for me.

You're repeating reassurances to yourself in your mind as you descend the stairs to the basement.

It's dimly lit, and it takes your eyes a minute to adjust. When they do, you're able to make out an old, heavy, oak wood lectern at the front of the room. Rows of flimsy plastic chairs are set almost as an audience, and tables line the edges. The carpet is worn, beige, and stained, the entire space smelling like must and bad coffee. You wonder how many girls like you have stepped foot in here in the past.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your wrists and stick to the back wall, willing yourself to become invisible. Watching as people mill in slowly, you take a deep, steadying breath. In for 4. Hold for 4. Out for 6.

"Hi!" a middle aged, dyed blonde, motherly woman screeches at you. The cadence of her voice makes you jump.

"Sorry, sweetpea! Didn't mean to scare you," she looks you up and down before continuing. "You're new here, ain't ya?"

Her southern accent, albeit very high pitched, is somewhat comforting. It's something familiar in this room full of the unknown.

"Yeah," you just about manage to choke out.

She surveys you again, this time with no judgment. You realise she's just trying to figure you out, as you are her.

"If you need anything, just come find me. I'm Primrose."

You smile gently at the floral moniker, and decide that Primrose might be some much needed support. Her motherly aura was calming you ever so slightly.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, if we could all talk a seat, that'd be fantastic."

A tall, curly haired man - who can't be more than 30 - wearing a name tag sticker that reads 'Tobias' has taken his place behind the lectern, gesturing at everyone to sit down. You pick a chair near the back, slouching down and ducking your head.

"Wonderful. Hi, everyone."

A chorus of hellos echoes around the room, everyone clearly used to this routine.

"For anyone who's new here, I'm Tobias, but everyone calls me Tobi. I've been a Priest for the last five years, and I've been running this group for the last two. Usually, how it works is that we get a few people to come up and speak through their experiences."

Your chest tightens, and you have to remind yourself to keep breathing. As if he sees your panic, Tobi continues.

"Most people find that being able to talk freely and without judgment is a useful coping mechanism. PTSD is complex, and it isn't something that can ever be fully 'cured' - but we can find ways to make things easier. You're in a room full of ladies and gentlemen that might not understand your experience, but definitely understand your feelings."

He catches your eyes across the depth of the room and smiles gently. You muster up the strength to smile back cautiously, and he nods before speaking again.

"Some just come here to listen. Others find it beneficial to talk. No one is going to pressure you, judge you, or scald you. This is a safe space. Share as much or as little as you'd like. Okay?"

Everyone nods and murmurs in agreement. Tobi seems to have a way of reassuring the entire room without really trying. He's calming, tender hearted, genuine. You like him already.

"Who wants to start?"

Primrose shoots up out of her chair on the front row and makes her way to the front. Tobi squeezes her shoulder as she passes, and she beams at him.

"Hi, y'all! I'm Primrose."

The room is clearly familiar with the blonde ball of excitement. Everyone yells greetings at her, her energy almost infectious.

"Most of you know my story, but just in case you don't -"

Her eyes flit to you briefly, and she smiles. You half smile back, relaxing slightly.

"I was in a marriage where I suffered domestic abuse. He used to hit me, manipulate me, call me names. You think it, he did it."

She takes a breath, putting the smile back on her face where it's faltered.

"I have some news to share. I'm engaged!"

A few people jump out of their seats to hug her, congratulating her with pats on the back and yelled excitement.

"Thank y'all, thank y'all! I couldn't wait to tell you guys. I just... I never thought that I could ever be happy again. I certainly never thought that I'd ever find the courage to be with another man, after everything. But I've found someone amazing. And he treats me like a queen. So, to anyone who's new here - it is possible. I promise you. Y'all better help me pick out a dress!"

The room erupts into applause, and Primrose smiles so bright you're surprised the lights don't shatter.

After Primrose, an elderly man named Walter takes the stage. He explains his experience in the military, and the trauma and violence he witnessed for years. You learn that he's a recovering alcoholic, who wasn't had a drink for 9 years. He shakes slightly where he stands, leaning against the cane in his hand. You can tell he's lived through hell.

Finally, after Walter, Tobi stands at the lectern. He's the sole survivor of a car accident that killed his two best friends. After struggling to cope, he turned to God, and became a Priest to better help people just like him in his community. He speaks with such ease, such grace. A wave of calm sweeps over the room as everyone listens intently.

He checks the brown leather strapped watch on his right wrist before clicking his tongue.

"Well, folks, that's all the time we have for today! Feel free to stick around and chat to each other, as always. There's coffee and cookies on the table, and Janet made some of her famous honey loaf too. Thanks for coming. Same time next week?"

Everyone agrees in shouts and thumbs up directed towards the front. Slowly, people rise, stacking their chairs away before making their way over to the table where the coffee sits next to the styrofoam cups.

You remain seated for a little longer, catching your breath. Your teeth are digging into your bottom lip, knawing at it anxiously. You suddenly taste pennies, and lick up the blood quickly with your tongue.

Standing up shakily, you fold your chair at its hinges and add it to the stack at the front of the room. A yawn overtakes you, tiredness suddenly settling into your bones.

Coffee. You need coffee.

You make your way over to the tables, timidly smiling at Primrose as she shows off her ring to a small group of people. Just as you reach over and grab an empty cup, you become suddenly aware of a presence behind you.

"Don't drink that."

A warm, rich, booming voice hits your ears. The large, looming presence comes a little closer, towering over you.

"Trust me, honey. It's the worst coffee you'll ever taste in your life."

You know that voice, it's familiar timbre.

Javier Peña.

You turn around to be met with the sight of him peering down at you intently. He's wearing a flannel and blue jeans, heavy boots on his feet. He smells like musk, sandalwood, and the Texan heat.

God, he looks good. He's strikingly handsome. Objectively attractive. Everyone in your town agrees that Javier Peña is one beautiful man.

And seemingly unattainable. Since leaving Lorraine at the altar years ago, no one has heard any word of Javier so much as dating.

"Such a waste," your mom always says. "Gorgeous man like that. He could have anyone he wants!"

And it's true. Chocolate hair, broad shoulders, strong thighs. The man is a heartthrob.

A heartthrob with a secret, apparently.

"Javier?" you question. "What are you doing here?"

It's now you realise that he's here. At the meeting. You've done such a good job of keeping your head down, going relatively unnoticed. And now, staring down at you, is your dad's best friend. So much for covert.

He must see the realisation on your face. Or maybe he notices the way your breathing quickens. Either way, he places a warm palm on your shoulder, looking at you carefully.

"Hey. It's okay," he reassures. "I won't tell if you won't."

You nod meekly, trying to stay calm. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

The basement suddenly feels too small, too dark, too stuffy. The carpet is too scratchy, the chairs too hard, the table too white. You need to get out before your chest caves in.

"You know, if you still want coffee, there's a diner like ten minutes from here. They do really good pie," Javier tells you, distracting you from your impending panic attack.

You take a breath and nod.

"Yeah. Okay. I like pie."

"Come on," he encourages, gesturing at you to lead the way. "Walk with me."

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You and Javier walk steadily side by side in silence, fingers occasionally accidentally brushing each other. After it happens twice, you decide to put your hands in your pockets the rest of the way, ignoring the warmth that radiates off him.

You eventually arrive at Cherry Pie Diner. The neon sign is blinding, shades of bright pink, yellow and blue flashing and flickering. Inside, the white overhead lights illuminate classic red leather booth seats and waitresses in pinafore aprons.

"Here we are. When you go in, ask for JoJo. She'll take care of you," he winks.

You stand stuck in your place on the sidewalk for a minute, processing his words.

"You're not coming in?"

He seems taken aback by your question. Now he's the one processing.

"You... uh - you want me to?"

"I, uh, yeah. I mean... if you're not busy... I just, uh - nevermind. Sorry. Forget I said anything."

"I didn't want to overstep, you know, it, uh- But if it's okay with you... I could do with some coffee."

Javier smiles at you gently, gauging your reaction. When you smile back hesitantly, he pushes open the door to the diner, gesturing at you to head inside.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"What looks good, honey?"

You raise your eyes from the menu you were staring at intently to quirk your brow at Javier.

"Hmm?"

"I asked if anything looked good," he repeats kindly.

"I, um, I'm not sure. What do you recommend?"

"The peach pie," he says without hesitation.

The quick response makes you laugh, the melody of it tugging at Javier's heart strings. He realises, sadly, that he hasn't heard that sound in a hell of a long time.

"Listen, I know it's not anyone's go to," he justifies, "but it's honestly the best thing on the menu. There's nothin' like it."

"Okay," you say with complete certainty. "Peach pie it is."

JoJo is a bubbly, Southern woman with rosy cheeks and a smile that never seems to falter. She takes your orders happily, flirting with Javier like you weren't sat watching, confusion and awkwardness plastered across your face.

"You two seem close," you approach gently, trying to make conversation.

"Yeah, I know her husband. JoJo's been serving me here for at least 10 years. Peach pie, every time," he laughs.

"I'm usually a cherry pie girl. Maybe you'll convert me."

You both sip steadily at your coffees, humming in contentment at your first bites of pie. Halfway through your slice, you break the silence.

"Okay, fine. This might be the best pie I've ever had."

"I told you," he smirks. "I'll never lead you wrong, honey. Promise. Not where pie is concerned, anyway."

You finish off your slices in comfortable quiet, neither of you quite sure what to say next.

"So, uh... about tonight..." you begin nervously.

"I won't tell anyone I saw you, cariño. I swear."

You breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Javi. Really."

Javi. The nickname so rarely used, it makes his heart stutter for a second.

"You're... you're not gonna ask what I was doing at that meeting?"

He tilts his head slightly, gazing at you carefully before replying.

"If you wanted to tell me, you would. I'm not gonna push you. These things take time."

He smiles like he knows. You think, maybe, he does.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

A breath. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

"Was that your first meeting too?"

He shakes his head, soft curls rippling.

"I've been going for a few months. I sneak out of town every week, so I'm pretty sure Chucho thinks I'm having a secret love affair. He doesn't ask questions."

You both laugh, and JoJo's head whips up, her curiosity peaked. She's never heard Javier laugh like this. Sure, he chuckles at her jokes, but the sound doesn't usually reach the corners of the room like that.

"He'd probably love it if you were, you know. Your love life is often a topic of conversation in my house, among many others in our neighbourhood."

He scoffs, and kicks your foot under the table teasingly.

"Man, nothing happens in that damn town, does it?"

"Nothing at all. Think we're overdue a secret love affair from you, Mr Peña. It might liven things up a little."

"Shut it, you," he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

You pull the sleeves of your sweater back down over your wrists again.

"I haven't seen you in a while. Think my dad is starting to get worried, you know."

A deep crease appears between his brows abruptly, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I've just been busy, I guess. Tryna sort my shit out," he snickers dryly, no real humour in it.

"So did you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"Sort your shit out?"

Now he laughs genuinely, bright smile gracing his cheeks.

"Absolutely fucking not."

"Man, I know the feeling," you reassure.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Your breathing speeds up slightly, eyes darting around the room. Javier notices, reaching across the booth to grab your hand. He intertwines his fingers with yours, thumb rubbing comforting patterns on your skin. You take a deep breath. In for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

"I feel like... like I'm... uh...," he nods at you reassuringly, squeezing your hand a little tighter. "I feel like I'm drowning. I'm barely keeping my head above water at any given moment. And I'm tired, Javi. Fuck, I'm tired."

A warm, salty tear escapes you, running down your cheek. Javi leans forward and brushes it away with his thumb, big brown eyes never leaving yours.

"It's okay, cariño. You're okay," he murmurs. "I get it. God, I get it."

"You do?" you sniffle.

"I do," he confirms. "More than you could ever know. And I know how lonely it feels. But I promise you, sweetheart. You're not alone. Not anymore."

His voice is like warm honey, soothing and golden. It melts into you, releases some of the tension from your shoulders. The tightness in your chest loosens slightly, and you take a deep breath. You find the courage to look at him again, and find that he hasn't taken his eyes off you once. His gaze is like an anchor, tethering you to reality. You surprise yourself by not wanting to shy away from the intensity of it. No, you want more.

Javier lets go of your hand to trace his fingertips up your forearm. He draws patterns carefully, as if he's learning every inch of you, committing you to memory. Like he isn't sure when he'll get to touch you like this again. If he'll get to touch you like this again.

You're still looking at each other, neither of you gathering the courage to look away. It's as if Javi is reading the words off the very surface of your soul. You're not sure you've ever felt so understood in your life. It terrifies you.

Without thinking, you grab a hold of Javier's hand and raise it to your lips, kissing each of his knuckles gently. The tenderness makes his heart ache.

"Hermosa," he sighs almost wistfully.

The sound of his voice snaps you back to the present moment.

"I'm sorry," you stutter, letting go of him. "Fuck, Javi, sorry. I don't - oh, I... fuck."

"Why do you do it?" he asks.

"Do... do what?"

"Apologise for everything. Every other word out of your mouth is 'sorry'," he chuckles affectionately.

"Sorry," you mumble without thinking. You pause, registering your words. The two of you break out into laughter, clutching at your stomachs.

"Are you?"

"Am I...?"

"Are you sorry? Or do you just say it because you think people want to hear it? You can't apologise for your entire existence, cariño."

You look into those warm, chocolate eyes, and realise he's read you for filth. He's right.

"I'm not sorry," you whisper.

He quirks a brow and nods attentively, urging you to continue.

"For... for what I just did. I'm not sorry."

You're praying that he understands what you're trying to say. I'm not sorry for my tender gesture. I'm not sorry for this connection we've made. I'm not sorry for my soft heart.

"I'm not either," he replies, barely above a murmur. You hear him, clear as day.

You reach out, this time, and interlock your fingers with his across the table. His large hand envelopes yours, and he squeezes. It effects you more than it probably should.

JoJo drops a plate behind the counter, the red and white china shattering across the checkerboard floor. The smash snaps you both out of the moment, making you jump. Your heart kicks into overdrive, battering against your ribcage.

"Hermosa, it's alright. Just a plate."

You hear him, but your nervous system doesn't seem to want to cooperate. Your breaths become laboured and frantic, and your hold on Javi's hand tightens almost painfully.

"Come on, Peaches, let's get out of here. It's getting late."

Javier stands from his bench seat and pulls you up with him, never once removing his fingers from where they're locked with yours. He shoots a smile over to JoJo, who returns it with glee. The two of you walk across the parking lot, hand in hand, illuminated by the neon light of the diner's sign. The colours dance across Javier's cheekbones, reflecting off the brush of his mustache, painting the rich brown warmth of his hair. He's never looked more handsome.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"Peaches."

"Hmm?" Javier asks from where he's leaning against the side of your car, back in the church parking lot.

"You called me Peaches. In the diner."

He nods, smirk etched on his streetlit face.

"Because of the pie."

"Because of the pie," he echoes.

"I like it," you confess quietly. "Peaches."

Javier pushes off the vehicle and stands, towering over you. Without a second thought, he brushes a thumb over your cheekbone in a featherlight touch.

"Sweet like peaches," he murmurs. "Too fuckin' sweet for a world like this one."

You look up at him, breath catching in your throat when you meet his eyes. He's gazing at you with adoration. With tenderness. With so much softness. Your knees go weak with the weight of it all.

It hits you, suddenly. The realisation.

You want to kiss him.

You want to kiss Javier Peña.

You want to kiss him more than you've ever wanted to kiss anyone in your entire life.

You're stood in the parking lot of a church on the outskirts of town with your dad's best friend and you're feeling the closest thing to happy you've felt in months.

You take a step forward, closing the gap between you. The warmth radiating from the older man settles itself in your bones, shielding you from the chill of the night. Just as you tilt your face up towards his, your phone buzzes.

Jumping apart as if you've been caught, you check your messages with shaky hands.

"It's my mom. She thinks I'm with a friend, so she's just checking in. She doesn't like it when I drive in the dark."

The mention of your mother snaps Javier out of his peachy haze.

"You should get back, cariño. It's late. Sorry for keeping you."

"Now who's apologising for no reason?"

He laughs, and you feel like you've won a gold medal. An achievement in its own right.

You climb into the drivers seat of your car, starting up the engine. Just as you're about to leave, Javi taps on the window. You roll it down.

"Same time next week, Peaches?"

"Same time next week, Javi."

You drive away with a smile on your face and a warmth in your stomach, the taste of peach still lingering on your lips. You notice that Javier drives behind you steadily, following you carefully to make sure you get home safe.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

You're staring at the ceiling.

You're plagued by insomnia.

According to the Internet, it goes hand in hand with your PTSD. You make a mental note to work up the courage to ask Tobi about it in the next meeting.

You lie in bed, watching as the sunlight slowly illuminates the room. Usually, you'll make a cup of tea, read a book, watch a TV show. Pace around the room like a caged animal. Count sheep. Do yoga. Listen to music.

Tonight, you take a different approach.

Tonight, you slip a hand under the waistband of your underwear, and replay the way Javi murmured your name in the diner on repeat.

It does the trick.

@frogers @farintonorth @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @pedrobaby @grace46 @harriedandharassed

[holybibly]

Hello everyone, bunnies or not (due to recent events). Today we're going to talk about serious things.

Over the past few weeks I've been getting more and more negative messages in my inbox. To be honest, I didn't really care at first, but the last few days have become a real test of my patience.

Even today. I just posted my first response to the Unholy Hour in the last two weeks, and a ton of negativity, disrespect, criticism and just plain rude behaviour poured in in response. So I want to make a few things clear.

I have created this blog as a safe and free space for everyone. It's a place you can come back to and not feel like you don't "fit in". There are no bans, restrictions, judgements, criticism or rudeness here. This is a place where everyone can find themselves and be who they want to be, not who society tells them to be. Damn, if someone wants to be a cat or a bunny, what the hell do you care, look after yourself, find a hobby, leave people alone. I will not tolerate people on my blog who tell other people what to do and label them. If you find me strange, unpleasant, rude, please unfollow me or even block me so that my messages do not appear in your feed. It will be much better than receiving all the crap you write to me anonymously.

Tagged question: Am I giving enough warnings? Am I using enough banners? Do I give enough indication that this is NSFW content? If you are confused by my work, you don't have to read it! You can stop at the beginning, but please that we are all adults here. Seriously, are you having sex, watching porn, discussing these topics with friends and not getting enough warning? Again, this blog is a safe and free place without judgement or negativity. Someone even mentioned rape in my work, and I'm not completely stupid for not mentioning it in my warnings. All my work involves "absolute consent". I do this absolutely freely and voluntarily, I like writing, I love it, but the more negative messages I get, the more I lose the desire to do it. I love myself very much and I don't want to waste my emotions with endless negativity, it's easier for me to close the blog and live my life.

Feedback. Bunnies (I'm still hoping), when I ask for your opinion, PLEASE give feedback in the comments. You may not "like" the post, but I need to hear from you. Writers need to know what to do. I don't want to waste hours of my time on something you're not going to be interested in. Every work I do is a huge effort. I don't have beta readers, English is not my first language, so imagine how much time I spend proofreading my work, checking grammar, punctuation, style. That is why I need to communicate with you. I know this is an uncomfortable conversation. I'm not a drama queen, I just want respect and understanding. This whole situation has also caused my activity to decrease.

Listen, if for some reason you feel uncomfortable, the atmosphere on the blog is unpleasant, or my works are not suitable for you due to the large amount of graphic sexual content, please stop following me and reading my ffs. There are many other authors with great work that can satisfy your need for content.

I don't want to get hate that I don't deserve. First of all, it is your own choice, I have never forced anyone to do anything. Respect the authors, be grateful for the effort they put into entertaining you.

I hope I have given you my thoughts.

And on a lighter note, the Unholy Hours are on tomorrow. I hope everyone has a good day/night.

[mari-lair]

Some angsty Terukaneaoi food for you: What if after this arc the clock keepers lose their yorishiro + power. In the past, people that were abducted by supernaturals lost their memories of it once the yorishiro was destroyed (look at Aoi in nr.2 story arc). So what if Akane would lose his memories of everything supernatural? He would forget about the severance and his advances with Aoi and instead would go back to confessing to her like crazy which would probably hurt Aoi a lot. He would also forget that Teru is an exorcist which in return means that Teru lost his only friend he could freely talk to about all his problems. Teru would try to shelter him from remembering it, because he knows it's what Akane would want (he wants to be normal and hates supernaturals after all) but it would hurt Teru a lot because this Akane doesn't know him truly and he needs to keep lying to him.

oooh angst! Just my tipe of angst too! Don't mind if I accept this food and throw a few random headcanons into this AU

Akane would get a headache when he is with Teru. He knows Teru is his friend and he is far from the charming prince that people perceive him as but Akane has no idea how they became friends (he just assumes it was through student council duties), he has no idea why there is a sense of guilt when he looks at Teru (he can't remember his clock keeper betrayal) nor why he associates Teru with safety, is not like him, a normal high school boy, need protection, right? He doesn't know why he has a pair of glasses with no prescription from Teru and even less why he takes great care of the glasses he doesn't use. He also know Aoi have a bracelet from him so he assumes these are weird gifts from someone with bad taste. What he is able to piece together from the tiny things he remembers with Teru is that he is one of the few people the president trusts, and he assumes he knows him (which is no longer true now that he doesn't know he is an exorcist.) taking pride in that.

Akane randomly gifts him a pen cause he had mistakenly assumed the 'something is off' feeling he gets when he thinks too hard about his enchanted glasses was born from getting a present from someone he values and not giving Teru anything back.

Teru can spend days happy near Akane, able to talk about his siblings and tease his crush on Aoi, keeping the topic focused on student council duties and other simple things, but he feels dead inside when he relaxes too much in Akane's presence and a reference to supernaturals slip up. He hates lying to Akane, and he hates even more when Akane sees through a lie, especially those that involve injuries. If he hears Akane says he should "leave his mysterious job for something less dangerous" again he will snap.

Akane feels uneasy when he hears clocks ticking. He stopped wearing his wristwatch.

Akane knows Aoi changed, she's acting more shy and reading his messages more, but he doesn't remember what he did to make them grow closer. It's maddening. Whatever he did must have gotten a lot of points? How could he forget? Why is he so forgetful about... anything regarding Aoi recently? (he doesn't even remember she is a Kannagi) He believes it's something he did, so he tries harder.

Aoi was flustered by the change at first. After learning Akane loves her despite all her flaws, she starts to believe in Akane's words so she is weak on the knee when he says he loves her so much with a big smile! But her shy joy crash and burn the second she notices his eager smile, as if waiting for her score.

They fell into a routine and she is horrified, she isn't brave enough to open up again so she leaves small unsaid hints as best she can't, and while Akane does catch some of it, since he is very perceptive, it still feels like they aren't on the same page. Akane stop waiting for scores when aoi stopped giving them, and goes back to her side ilke a moth to a flame when giving her space makes her distressed, fumbling like a hopeless idiot around her in an attempt to understand what she want, what will 'win her heart', and even if it doesn't, what will make her the happiest.

Even when he asks "What is wrong?" directly, she say "Nothing <3" cause she doesn't know how to explain, or how to gain that level of honesty again without a drug to help her emotions feel more manageable. He doesn't know what he did wrong but at least, he understands every indirect invitation to watch movies with her, they still spend more time together than they used to, getting ocasional instances where both are relaxed.

Teru still approaches Aoi to talk about his random questions and small talk, but he starts to talk about supernaturals with her too, since she remembers the trio Far Shore trips. She finds Teru even weirder when she gets more details on his job and views, but it doesn't bother her, welcoming the company.

Akane can somewhat sense that they are hiding something from him, and that they are growing closer together, it drives him insane on many levels, he even thought they were dating in secret at some point, but they snorted at the idea. They don't give him clear answers and doing his own research doesn't help either, he just has these vague feelings he can't explain. The most he could piece together is that he had 'an accident that messed with his memories', which is weird cause Lemon and his other classmates don't seem aware of whatever accident aoi and teru are shaken by.

[enden-k]

i wanted you to know, chinese fandom of genshin headcannons alhaitham as being a very clingy boyfriend. How do you feel about that headcanon? (just like does it fit your own headcanon for him or not?

)

guess depending on what type of clingy were talking here. is it physical? bc then YES

i love to hc haitham as touchstarved and enjoying/seeking physical touch a LOT but only from kaveh (or his love interest) - outside of that, he doesnt like to be touched by strangers etc and with his attitude its not smth that happens anw

at first he doesnt know how to communicate it well enough (bc he doesnt realize right away that he wants to, sometimes its difficult to identify/recognize a feeling or urge you never experienced much before) so sometimes hes jsut looming around kaveh for a few moments before he just blurts it out directly or simply wraps his arms around his waist to pull him into him (wonderfully catching the architect off guard and getting him all blushing and complaining) - def like a cat approaching you for pets and attention no matter if youre busy and then leaving freely when he got his fill. he wouldnt be too overbearing or too much in general though and once he learned more of his new needs and urges hes def bolder (but still so unbelievably cute) with his actions and doesnt care where they are (he would def swoop in for a kiss or two when he has the strong urge to do so and then get scolded for pda)

i just rlly love to think of aloof, coolish haitham having such soft sweet needs. give this man his night cuddles, he loves spooning as much as messing w kaveh

if its clingy outside of physical, i think haitham is someone who values personal freedom and wouldnt cling badly, rather giving kaveh (or anyone else) the space and freedom he himself also enjoys and wants bc he is someone who likes his alone time very much and needs it, after all. and when he needs it he will take it and you wont find him if he doesnt want to be found. hes def not needy (sometimes he is, like when kaveh is busy w a project and haitham craves touches and presence) or demanding of attention or constantly clinging to kaveh. he does enjoy being around him and often seeks him out to rile him up and mess a little with him perhaps (he just loves it)

i feel like "clingy" behavior is more fitting to kaveh if you wanna call it that (it sounds so negative jkbjkb but in this context i dont mean it negative) simply bc hes got more insecurities etc

he fears hes "not good enough" for haitham, thinking of himself too much of a mess that sometimes he has doubts/anxieties/insecurities and finds it hard to believe that knowing all of him and his faults and issues, haitham still loves him. needing reassurance when it gets bad. its not like he doesnt trust haitham or thinks he would cheat on him or whatever, its just that on some days its hard for him to believe hes worthy to be loved, clinging onto him then so not to spiral down

outside of that, kaveh is someone who pulls a lot of attention to him be it on purpose or not but the one persons attention he loves and enjoys the most is haithams (though he wouldnt admit it out loud)

when it comes to clingy in connection with jealousy, i like to think theyre both jealous ppl (not in a bad, toxic, damaging way ofc) - if not, haitham even a bit more. throw in some slight possessiveness for him too idk i just love that sm

anw idk if i interpreted the word "clingy" right, its rlly late and i just had too many thoughts pouring out the more i wrote that idk anymore if its related to the topic so im sry if its completely off to what u asked akjbsckj

[sasori-rp]

A much needed Post

Good evening everyone, I hope you're all having a good day.💜

Yes, I probably tagged you in this, dear stranger. Before you click off, I ask you to give me 5 minutes of your time. Just 5, then you can go about your day. But I would appreciate it, if you listened to what I have to say, because it means a lot to me and many...many others.

I'm posting today, because this topic has been on my heart lately and I wanted to share my thoughts with you. I'm sure you've already guessed that this is about the whole Kisame-anon chaos.

Before we begin, I want to get this out of the way: This post is coming from a genuine and loving place. My goal is not to point fingers, nor placing blame or justify anyone's actions, including my own. This post is about me, trying to understand the entire situation and providing my sentiments to it.

Act I: Why do I not just shut up?

Why do I get involved you might ask? It's not so much that I want to get involved. It's more that any anon who begins their journey here, gets inevitably sucked into it. We are faced with angry posts, confusing explanations and forced to choose who to believe and support. If you don't, you walk on eggshells filled with guilt and if you do, you're being blocked by the entire half of the disagreeing party.

This is not what I signed up for.

I come on to Tumblr to Roleplay and have fun. I've been having a splendid time here. You guys are making me so happy as of late, allowing me to play freely and giving me a space for all my creative ideas. And I want to continue doing so.

I want to be able to chat up anyone, without fearing that someone else will jump at my throat for it. That includes Kisame, Hidan, Orochimaru and many more of you wonderdul RPers.

Recently I have noticed that I've been blocked by several people and I can guess, what the reason is. And it saddens me because...I like you guys. We were talking and sharing fun experiences, only for me to discover that I am suddenly cut off from it. For no other reason than that I interact with a person they have a quarrel with. And that is just...not the solution. So what is the solution?

Act II: The Anon War in a nutshell

Now, from my understanding, there is a big rift between two groups.

1) Those who have received digital harassment in form of hate/rape/death threats (and believe Kisame-anon to be the culprit)

and

2) Those who defend Kisame against those claims, or, like me, don't just blindly hop onto a hate train they saw on the internet

Again, my goal with this post is not to be the divine judge over who is in the right here. It is, objectively, pretty much impossible from an outsider's standpoint. And additionally, I don't think either of you is necessarily to blame for your individual reactions.

I absolutely feel for you guys, Hidan-anon and your friends. I, too, would be seething if someone I love was harrassed in the way Hidan (and co) has been. I do not know the extent of the harrassment. But I believe you when you say, that you've suffered. And I am very sorry you have been through that.

I also feel for Hidans friends, who, (bless their hearts) really are trying to protect them from further harm. An absolutely understandable sentiment.

I do however, also really feel for Kisame, who, (bear with me here) is probably being framed. They have been faced with a lot of backlash from party 1, have tried to defend themselves to no avail, up to the point of having to retreat. And all that...for what?

Act III: The Point I'm trying to make

Do none of you realise, that you're being pinned against each other?

There is a person (or perhaps several) that has harrassed Hidan-anon with very vile threats and they are getting away with it. There is someone out there, that is having the time of their life, watching you scratch each others eyes out, causing pain and suffering for everyone involved, while they sit back and watch the show.

Kisame-anon has not sent you these messages. They have proof of it. Wether you believe them or not, is up to you, but...

Do you really want to keep hurling hate at a person, that is just as much a victim as you are? A person who, themselves, is a victim of sexual abuse and would never even think of the idea of sending someone rape threats?

Would you not rather work together to bring that (pardon my french) asshat to justice, that is playing sick games with the both of you?

And mind you, it's not just Kisame you're isolating. You're isolating their friends, who are doing the same as you: Protecting those they care about.

You're isolating kind strangers like me, who just want to roleplay without the drama, by blocking them by mere association.

And you're isolating oblivious newcomers, who might have the misfortune of stumbling over the "wrong" blog at the wrong time.

This is not okay guys.

And coercing others into doing the same (blocking by association) is further doing damage, because many people just want to stay away from the drama and thus do as you say without much thought. The whole thing is harmful in itself, but it's worse, because you're doing it to the wrong person.

Kisame has evidence that they're innocent. Kisame also has a quite solid theory who it is. Do you not want to at least have a look at it?

If you truly care about the safety and wellbeing of your friends, I strongly suggest you do. Because the actual predator is still out there.

I am glad that Hidan went to the police. I hope that they find who is behind all of this and that they get taken care of for good. Because like things stand now, you're about to drag an innocent person to the guillotine and letting the true perpetrator go. And you're dividing an entire RP fandom, that used to be a safe space.

I don't want this to happen.

Act IV: So...what now?

I want this post to be a wake up call. A wake up call for all those who are as confused, as I was and unsure what to do; but also, especially, to Hidan-anon and friends. Please, let us put down arms and find a solution.

I care about you. And I care about Kisame. And I love this little RP space we built and the friends I made here. I want us to stand together, acknowledge each other's suffering and grow as people. Let us talk things out.

I want this post to be a safe place for exchange. Feel free to add your thoughts and sentiments in the comments. Everything is welcome, as long as it is respectful and communicated calmly. I am more than happy to provide you with a neutral ground to talk things out. My DMs and Asks are always open for anyone who needs an ear or a shoulder.

We, as Naruto fans, more than anyone else, should know that hate creates nothing but more hate. So let us lead with compassion and patience. And listen to each other. Thank you for your attention.

[voidcommascreamintothe]

On how people think Nesta is the abuser in early acotar

Okay, so..

1) the series was never supposed to be more that three books, therefore all secondary characters are bland and not developed that well, or at all.

2) Nesta’s and Elain’s primary- dare I say, only, narrative purpose in the first book was to get us, the audience on board with Feyre’s decision to stay in the Spring Court fairly early in the story. Ugly (step)sisters as narrative shorthand for “main girl’s life is awful so she needs to skedaddle very quickly”.

Now that we have that out of the way, Nesta in book one is so very different than the Nesta in the other books. I remember reading these books (the first time round) and getting whiplash at how different the characterization was for both sisters really.

I am aware that a lot of people are very passionate about their defense of Feyre, but I beg you, down on my knees with my hands clasped in a prayer, i beg you to realize that these were children and teenagers we are talking about. Children and teenagers that were never taught how to love. Nesta was never taught how to be nice, only how to seduce a rich husband, with perfectionism beaten into her. It very clearly states, in book four, that Nesta is all claws and sharp edges because she was forced to be that. And so when the time came to reign in that spitefulness, she realized it became a permanent feature of herself.

I do not think people realize just how difficult it is to learn how to show and accept love, even more so when you have to teach yourself in adulthood because you are trying to better yourself. Well I do.

This might count as insider trading: I am privy to this perspective because i have lived through something similar, but somewhere along the way, you do it because you need to forgive yourself and because it is the right thing to do; not to seek validation/forgiveness from others. Truly healing means accepting that you cannot change the past, and that you cannot make others accept your apology. But you apologize because it’s the right thing to do.

The beauty of Nesta’s book, is that you, dear audience member and beloved reader, do not have to forgive Nesta, she does not want it. The character you are defending already forgave her, so you become slightly less relevant in their story.

Tangentially related, but Feyre tried to reach out to Nesta multiple times in order to make amends, and only gave up when Rhys stepped in.. Foreshadowing is a narrative technique-

Insisting that a child can be abusive, insisting that CHILD Nesta was abusing Feyre is a dangerous line of thinking.

Child neglect and abuse is a heavy topic, and I don’t think I am educated enough to speak on it. All I will say is that assuming that every older child that grew up in a neglectful home in inherently abusive/neglectful themselves is an abhorrent thought to have. Being mean and outwardly cruel to people you love because you don’t know how to love them is not abuse, it is a cry for help.

In this scenario, we are talking about Nesta’s INACTION and lack of contribution. That is not abuse. It is of grave importance that people realize this. Nesta was groomed to be one thing and one thing only, a perfect wife. She was never taught how to love and care for her sisters, and had to learn this in adulthood, much like how Feyre had to do the same.

However Feyre was given grace, given support and understanding, given enough space to learn how to love freely and how to be loved.

The entire second book is about this. Do you people not read?

Nesta on the other hand, is ever only given this kind of treatment in book four, by Gwyn and Emerie: two characters that are removed from the Inner Circus and Rhysand. It is only when Rhysand suggests, and subsequently steamrolls over Feyre’s hesitations, that Nesta is removed from Feyre’s space, and Feyre herself stops reaching out. Only because Rhys mettles.

Like I stated above, foreshadowing is a narati-

Like many of you, Rhysand loves Feyre, and goes to extreme lengths to protect her and keep her safe. However, he is extremely biased against Nesta, pouring all of his anger at how mistreated Feyre was onto Nesta. Nesta bears the brunt of his terribly misguided attempt to protect Feyre, and Elain is left on the sidelines, just like she was when she tried to take accountability for her own failure during the Archeron’s poverty era. And yet, Rhysand ignores this.

Elain is viewed as the innocent child that is incapable of coherent thought. Elain is much softer in appearance therefore is considered to be almost incapable of carrying blame. Somehow, most likely because Nesta does not conform nor does she assimilate into Fae life the way Elain does, Elain is perceived to be the “good one”. Make no mistake, Rhysand keeps Elain around to use her against Nesta- the scrying incident in Silver Flames; he does not really respect her. Otherwise he would have held her just as responsible as Nesta. Instead, he and the others, treat Elain like a dimwit and Nesta as the pariah.

All of this, this being Rhysand being kind of a shitty dude, all of it would have been fine, were it not for the fact that Rhysie is consistently justified by the narrative. He is clearly the favourite character if the author and is always positioned to be the Moral Compass of the story, and therefore always positioned to be the one who is in the right. All of Rgysand’s moves and decisions are made out to be the decision, the only correct ones, the ones that the audience is supposed to have/share/approve of,

The fact that us girlies are having a tussle over a lot of the female characters simply because on how the narrative favors a male character, and how that male character keeps meddling in women’s affairs, is honestly some kind of profound irony.

The author’s inability to let go of her favoritism of said male character is boiling my piss and curdling my menstrual blood.

Bonsoir.

Ps.

Being mean and outwardly cruel to people you love because you don’t know how to love them is not abuse, it is a cry for help.

[xplrvibes]

some people on twitter are getting really mad at colby for apparently ‘ditching’ shea for his new girl saying shit like oh he led shea on and now he’s pushed her away lol

they’re fully acting like he’s committed an awful crime like why are they cancelling him 😭

(side note - i’m actually, whole heartedly convinced that half of the fandom genuinely hates colby and everything he does fills them with rage lmfao)

This is going to be a one and done, on this topic. I don't like Shea, don't like what she's doing. Never did like her, as you all know, because she has been an absolutely awful and manipulative bully and generally trash person over the years and I don't want her taking up too much space on my blog because of it.

But I felt the need to just put this out there before I move on, so here we go, behind a cut for anyone who doesn't want to hear it lol.

You know, I find this whole "taking Shea on her word all of a sudden" thing interesting.

According to Shea, they had a 10 year (even though he was still living in Kansas 10 years ago) "on-again, off-again thing" that was "mostly just talking" and was "never official," although it was "almost dating, but not official" for 2 years (even though there hasn't been a 2 year period where Colby hasn't been at least seeing someone, if not hooking up).

She doesn't seem to know any of his friends and not a single one of them follow her on socials - in fact, most of them unfollowed her several years back. Of particular note is the fact that Sam, after all these years of her being Colby's future wife, still hasn't followed her back...but has followed several of the other girls Colby's been linked to over the years, including M.

She never seems to have a clue about what is going on in his life and has been promising (and not delivering) fans content with Colby for years now - including her telling everyone that her and Colby were going somewhere to film a documentary in January of this year when Colby had already told everyone on xplrclub that he and Sam were going to be in Vegas or in Texas filming in all of Jan and then in Australia for most of Feb. She promised to have him on one her streams on a day when he was actually in Hawaii, then another day when he was actually in Kansas visiting family.

She hasn't been invited to a single party or group gathering of theirs since 2019, save for one time when she visited Colby and Sam in Las Vegas - which came across as very awkward, given the above.

She complained about never getting invited to snc's Halloween parties - you know, the ones that have 500-1,000 invitees and snc have claimed include an invite to every single person they know and are friends with? Yet Colby's soul mate gets left on the list somehow, 6 years running?? (One year he had four different past flings there at once. But the future Mrs. Shea Brock just didn't make the cut somehow)

Oh, bonus: she once told a gc full of her fans that Colby asked her out, but she turned him down because she valued the friendship too much. Funny how those turns tabled.

Colby meanwhile, has never hidden that he considers himself single, does not think he's met "the one," uses Raya to find dates, hooks up and has flings....he's not just pretending to be single, he IS single.

So. to recap: They have had a 10 year friendship and emotional bond that Shea deluded herself into thinking was more. Colby comes around her again after having had a cancer that could've easily rendered him unable to have children, and her grand idea is to tell this guy she freely admits she was never even dating that she wants to cash in on some vague promise he may or may not have actually made to her about getting married and having CHILDREN???

I'd have left her ass, too.

But sure. He's the bad guy. By the way, to hear Shea tell it, Colby did the same thing to her that Sam did to Kat. But all the people trashing Colby were the first ones in line to defend Sam from big bad mean Kat and her hurtful words because "he wasn't ready" and wah wah wah. Isn't that funny...and on par.

So yes, lol. Most of the people pissed about this are using any excuse put in front of them to trash Colby cause that is the only enjoyment they get out of life. Trust me when I say they are backing the wrong horse with Shea. She's not the hero victim y/n sainted good girl she pretends to be.

[itsimaginetime]

So I've been seeing a lot of discourse lately about minors and smut. Is it ok for them to read it? To write it? Etc etc...

And so I wanted to share my own opinion and please, I would love to know your opinions as well (you can comment, reblog or anonymously send an ask to voice your opinion about the matter) and let's keep this respectful and civilized 💕

Alright so first things first, I myself wrote smut for the first time when I was 15 years old (I'm currently 18) and posted it on my insta account which didn't have my age on it and I was never asked to disclose my age on it either.

I've personally never seen anyone express their discontent with minors writing smut until this year. I'm sure I've just never come across it and it's actually been a big point of discussion for a long time and I was just never aware of that.

Now , before I go on and talk about things in more detail, let me say one thing:

‼️If you're uncomfortable with the fact that I used to be a minor who wrote smut then please, block me and move on with your life. I'm simply here to share my opinion ; as someone who has experienced being in the fanfiction community (as a reader first then later as a writer) since the age of like 11 or 12; freely and discuss this topic with people who are open to have a genuine conversation.‼️

With that out of the way, let's continue.

What's the situation all about?

To put it simply, a certain amount of writers are expressing their discomfort about minors reading their work and/or them reading smut written by minors and/or seeing minors writing smut and posting it.

(if you're one the people who doesn't like minors writing smut , can you please explain it in detail? I would love to hear your opinion and have you share it so that people can understand the situation from the p.o.v of someone who's directly affected by it)

How do I feel about minors reading/writing smut and posting it on the internet?

I feel complete and utter indifference towards this situation, that is why I feel like a neutral and unbiased opinion like my own is needed in this discussion.

Now, would I go out of my way to read and/or interact with a smut writer if I knew they are a minor? Absolutely not. But I do not care if they read my work and enjoy it. My work is posted publicly and I'm not interested in monitoring who reads it and who doesn't.

Should minors read and/or write smut?

Should or shouldn't they is truly up for debate and depends on the person.

What I'm interested in pointing out is the fact that they can and they will do so if they're determined enough.

Now do you ,as a writer and/or reader, have the right to be uncomfortable and have the right to set your boundaries? Absolutely yes you do, however that doesn't change the fact that kids are determined and will find a way.

Is it possible to get rid of minors in the nsfw writing space?

No. No , it's not a possibility. No matter how much you shame them and berate them , no matter how much you ask nicely and beg them to leave , minors have always been and will always be part of the nsfw writing community in one way or another.

And I believe it's not possible to get rid of minors in the nsfw writing community because they are kids. Let me explain.

They are underdeveloped humans. Majority of them do not understand nor do they comprehend why someone would feel uncomfortable towards them being part of this community. Most of them are simply not capable of understanding even if you explain it thoroughly.

Now you can , in fact, scare them off and berate them and shame them and attack them to make them leave. Yes, you can do that , but should you?

Being hostile or passive aggressive won't wield a positive result. On the off chance that they leave the community or delete their content after your confrontation , they could easily come back with a new account, a new identity and lie their way through to avoid your hostility towards them. And believe me , I've seen it happen before.

Not only would you be wasting your time by shaming them into leaving, but you'll also be encouraging other minor smut writers who witness your behavior to lie about their age as an attempt to avoid people like you. And that would only complicate the situation more.

What to do if you're uncomfortable with minor smut writers in general

Block them and move on. Trying to kick them out of the community won't work since even if you succeed they can always come back like I already stated in the previous section.

Is there a solution to this issue?

I personally don't believe there is a perfect solution that will satisfy everyone but I have come up with a solution where we can all meet in the middle. I don't believe that it's a perfect solution but it's the best solution that I could come up with. (Please don't be shy and let me know what you think is the best solution)

My solution to this issue

As I've already stated , I don't believe getting rid of minors in this community is possible so that option is off the table for me.

I think we should encourage minors to be honest about their age , that way whoever is uncomfortable with them can avoid them and block them.

Like I said before , I'm well aware this solution has its flaws and it's not perfect by any means, however I believe this is the most civilized solution we can use. If we can have minors disclose their ages truthfully, we can separate the community into multiple sections , one of those sections will house the minors all together, far away from interacting with adults who are uncomfortable with being in the same space with them.

Again , I would love to hear your opinion about this situation if you're part of the nsfw writing community, and I would love to have a nice , civilized and respectful conversation with anyone who's willing to talk. I want to broaden my understanding of the situation and having these types of discussions is the best way to do so.

[soie-lux]

Looking Back at My 2022 Goals: Leveling Up Mentally and Spiritually in 2023

As 2022 comes to a close, take some time to reflect. Look back at the goals you set at the beginning of the year. How did you do? What are some things you wish you would've done differently?

My goals for this year were:

I honestly didn't look back too much at this list throughout the year, but I can thankfully say many of my goals have organically been incorporated in my routines and daily life bit by bit as the year went on.

It doesn't matter if you started working towards your goals January 1st or December 1st, all that matters is that you had the discipline to start. To implement every single one of your goal's January 1st can be overwhelming to some, and discouraging when you fail to keep up the habits, which is why so many people drop their New Year's resolutions in the first 2-3 weeks. You don't have to sprint towards the finish line the second the new year begins. Be gentle with yourself. By implementing your goals slowly and gradually into you daily life, you are more likely to keep up with them.

One of my goals for 2022 was to do some form of joyful movement at least 5 days out of the week. I found pilates, stretching, and daily walks worked best for me rather than going to a gym. I want to be able to enjoy life freely for as long as possible and that means taking care of myself and my body. During the summer months, my 5am morning walks and pilates were Godsend. It required serious discipline to get to wake up so early, but it was so worth it! I feel so much stronger and energized! This is a habit I definitely want to carry into 2023. I wasn't consistent with my daily joyful movement it until May, and that's okay! Starting later is better than not starting at all.

Setting limits on social apps has really helped decrease my screen time. I've definitely noticed the less I spent online, the better I felt mentally and my mindset regarding online/media spaces has shifted drastically. I don't feel the need to be in the loop when it comes to the latest trends of what's "in" vs what's "out." No longer am I caught up in the happenings of celebrity and internet culture (the less you check into trending topics and gossip blurbs, you'll find yourself caring less and less about them, trust me). I noticed the more time I spent obsessing over social media and trying to fit into a specific aesthetic, the less I was able to truly be myself. Get off the internet and learn about yourself!! Forget about trends, what do you like to wear? What do you like to do? Don't let the internet fool you into behaving in a way that makes you feel artificial. Since I've learned this, life has become so much richer and simpler.

Quality over quantity has been a big theme for me this year. I wanted to apply this to my closet as well and create a capsule wardrobe filled with high quality pieces rather than fast fashion items. I've always been drawn neutral tones and earthy tones, but recently have developed a soft-spot for navy and burgundy. I've slowly been swapping out my polyester and acrylic items for pieces made of pure silk, linen, cotton, cashmere, and wool. I'm at a place now where I'd rather spend my money on one high quality basic that will last me years and years than numerous fast fashion items of equal monetary value.

Cooking and baking has always been a hobby of mine, but after some mental/health challenges, I found it hard to enjoying being in the kitchen. I don't remember the moment it all clicked, but the autumn months really helped me fall back in love with cooking. All the things I was doing to physically keep my body moving made me want to ensure I was fueling my body properly as well. I spent less time in grocery stores and more time at farmers markets talking to the farmers/vendors and learning about where the food I'm eating is actually coming from!! Organic produce, free-range eggs, grass-fed meats, locally made bread and locally harvested honey as much as possible. Cooking and baking things from scratch instead of buying it processed from the super market. Eating with the seasons. Making my first sourdough starter. Beginning with a few basic ingredients and witnessing something beautiful come into fruition from oven to plate. I'm so thankful I was able to discover an all-new joy for being in the kitchen this year, and I plan to continue to harness these skills in 2023.

I thank God for the way He has helped me grow in my faith this year. Spending time in His word daily. Praying to Him not just as part of my morning and nightly routine, but sometimes multiple times throughout my day just to chat or ask for guidance. Learning to put His will for my life above my own. Learning to trust Him with everything in my life and giving Him full control. Learning to serve others rather than always looking to be served. In the beginning of the year, my goal was to become "that girl," but now my goal is to become the woman of God the Lord wants me to be. I want to be a woman after His own heart. To spreads God's love with the world by being gentle, kind, wise, graceful, poised, soft-spoken, and selfless. I am in no way perfect, but I'm thankful for the growth I've seen this year and I thank God in advance for the work He will do in me this coming year.

[loveemagicpeace]

🎧Uranus & Separation🎧

🥶Uranus is prone to constant change, unexpected things, changes that are drastic & strange, where you feel the most resistance, where you feel like you can do differently or be different. Uranus encourages you to resist the system and to do things differently than others. but often coincides with an inner need for a fresh start, whether you are conscious of it or not.

🫧Uranus in 1st house- here you impress other people without doing anything. People remember you for your difference and uniqueness. You often make an unexpected change in your appearance or character. Here you resist everything that includes appearance, energy, character... You will never want to dress the same as others or look like everyone else.You will not like everything that is popular. You can also tend to dislike people who are exposed, that it turns you away from them. You like things that are different and not so exposed. Your way of thinking is also different and you don't like to follow the system or do things that are supposed to be socially acceptable.

☂️Uranus in 2nd house-Money comes and goes. It's always changing and it's always different. You can get a lot of money at once and lose it just as quickly.You can earn money through social networks or in some way of your own. Here it can also mean playing a spontaneous game with money. Material things are not so close to your heart.You can appreciate things that are different and like to discuss freely with them. This also includes the music, which may be different from the others. You can listen to music that is unknown, unpopular.

🧊Uranus in 3rd house- here you can feel that you stand out with your speech. You can feel that you are saying something and notice how different you are from people. Your thinking can often be out of the box, rebellious. You like to talk about unpopular topics. Maybe people also find your way of thinking strange. You can feel like a outsider among relatives.I also notice that they like to read unconventional stuff.

🍷Separation

Should I stay or should I go🎸🧸

🔑All signs are different and react differently to separation, problems, crisis, quarrels. Some are not moved by it and live on, some let it go immediately, and some need it for a very long time or even never. 7th house represents how you create a relationship and what attracts you. At the same time, what makes you end a relationship. However, breakups are often seen in the 8th house.

❤️‍🔥Aries Descendant- their energy is quick and strong, but it can also quickly subside.They are driven as long as they see that they are getting attention and the same energy back. But they can quickly let go and move on. Because it is a sign that can quickly redirect its energy to itself and its needs. But they are fiery and react quickly to an argument. As a person in a relationship, you are looking for energy, passion, but the loss of energy & passion is also the main cause of breakup.

💘Cancer Descendant- will always be attached to the emotion, the feeling of the person. Many times they move on, but they never forget the feeling, the space with the person. Many times they become attached to a certain place and a person's safety. In a relationship, they want their needs to be seen, that someone takes care of them and makes them feel at home. The reason for the end can many times be feelings of alienation.

🛁Virgo Descendant- many times they overthink about everything.They analyze things and think whether or not to stay in the relationship. Many times they distance themselves from a person because of little things (when it comes to the end), so many times they don't come back. In a person, they are looking for diligence, orderliness, stability, someone who will burden them less or give them a sense of calm.

💰Capricorn Descendant-process the whole thing and think about it for a long time. Although many times it looks like they have already moved on. But they can be very stubborn. Therefore, they may take some time to return, or they may not return at all. They are tied to the habit they have with the person and not so much to a certain emotional connection. They are looking for someone who is mature, educated, in a high position, someone who gives distance, independence. Breakup gives you career motivation.

💸Taurus Descendant- take a lot of time to process things. But many times they are overcome by stubbornness. With that you rarely ever see them approach first. Their reactions during conflicts are usually calm. Many times music, money, food help them get over it. Many times they will look for financial security and breakup when it is gone.

🦋Scorpio Descendant- their energy is always intense, so their reactions are often impulsive, strong, passionate, stormy, angry. They will always fight for the person they love as long as they can. But it is also the sign that has the hardest time getting over and letting people out of your life. They are often stuck in the depths that no one can see. Their love is as deep as the pain. They can love endlessly and hate endlessly. Scorpios often leave when they feel doubt, fear, betrayal. A Scorpio will always be watching you from afar even after you two breakup. It is most connected to the feeling of trust, depth, intimacy, soul bonding. You will want someone with who u could share blood with.

🧸Pisces Descendant- often get attached to a fantasy, an illusion of a person they create in their head, and this is often the reason why they can't move on. They often stay in the past and remember things, events, people over and over again. But on the other hand, escaping into fantasy, watching (music, movies...) helps them forget about the person. They are often associated with a feeling that gives fairy vibes/dreamy vibes. You want someone with whom you will have the feeling that they are your soulmate.

💗Libra Descendant -want to have a quick conversation and don't like to get into arguments with people. They like to be in good contact with people, but they like to remain neutral. Libras are romantic, which also means that they are often linked to a person's romantic ideal. But when the romantic image disappears and there is no longer that charm, they end relationship. It also quickly repels them when the person no longer gives anything to the appearance.Because libra adds a lot to beauty.

🧞Aquarius Descendant -things are interesting to a certain extent, but when they get emotional they like to move away. Aquarians often run away from conversations. Sometimes they just leave things as they are and move on. They are one of the signs that, in my opinion, move on quickly and don't cling to people. They like to be independent. They are looking for someone with whom they can be free, goofy, weird.

🎸Sagittarius Descendant -is attached to the feeling of excitement. To the person who inspires it, it gives a sense of liveliness, of happenings. Sagittarians love someone with whom they can discover new places, learn something from.They often like the way a person thinks and the way they look. But their reactions are strong, impulsive, direct.They don't just give in and fight for the person they love.But it seems to me that they can often change the environment in order to get over someone.The love they had for a person after breakup put in places.

🍋Gemini Descendant -quickly move away when they no longer feel interesting, communication between the person. It is very important for them to communicate with person they are with.They have to constantly feel stimulation, innovations, happenings. They are looking for someone with whom they can share thoughts, entertainment. They will always want to talk to the person if there are arguments.

🛼Leo Descendant-get attached to the fun, hobbies they have with the person. In love, they are loyal, proud, fiery. They fight when they want someone back.But the end does not crush them so much.Many times they will find a new hobby or pastime to distract the person.But I think that they will always persist in the relationship and will not leave so easily.

Comment if u want part 2 but with 8th house or something like that😝

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🎸🧸