#category: unspecified

[revenant-coining]

Nilgenrecta

(pt: Nilgenrecta /end pt)

Nilgenrecta; a term for being gender non-conforming (GNC) & straight!

etymology; “nil” latin for no, gen(der), “recta” latin for “directly, straight”

for anon!

tagging; @radiomogai

[davinawritings]

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[hellishjoel]

positions

2.4k / pairing: tattoo artist daddy dom!joel miller x sub f!reader

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chapter summary: You and Joel mutually pleasure each other while “researching” porn. 

chapter warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak/TLOU, Joel is a tattoo artist with tattoos and piercings, Joel and reader are in the pre-phase of creating porn together, watching porn together, unspecified age gap, established relationship, reader is described to have hair and is able-bodied (but otherwise, unspecified), swearing, dirty talk, smut, lots of pet names (angel, bunny, etc.), dacryphilia (kink = getting aroused by tears), dom/sub dynamics, innocence kink, praise kink, degradation kink, pain kink, daddy kink, oral (m!receiving), size kink, fingering (f!receiving), squirting, hair pulling, one (1) pussy smack, pussy and cock pronouns

A/N: this was written as a mini chapter within the cherry thrill series but can be read as a standalone. a hugehugehuge shoutout to @devineconjuring because without her support, I wouldn’t have even thought about sitting down to write this when the creative burst finally hit! everyone thank annie for beta’ing this mini-chapter! divider is by @firefly-graphics!

Eyes glazed over in lust, lips parted, skin warm with desire — both of you. 

You and Joel rest your backs against the headboard of his bed, gazes unbroken, staring at your laptop screen. 

Porn. 

Anal. Amateur. Bondage. Free Use. Hardcore. Softcore. You��re watching the A-Z catalog with your partner. Was this a kink? Because trying to sit next to Joel while watching porn, trying not to get worked up, felt like a twisted game. 

Joel knows you’re turned on. You haven’t stopped squirming beside him for at least twenty minutes. It was agonizing at this point to be so wet, so aching for touch, a deep breath of air nowhere in sight. And it was your stupid idea. 

If you were going to film porn, it was only logical that you see what’s out there and get a sense of what you’d be open to filming with Joel. What was your comfort level? Would you start out by appealing to the amateur audience with limited cuts and genuine passion? Or would you like it more if Joel had all the control, playing into his role of being your dom, and ordered you around like his little cock slut? 

All these videos had you questioning which category you fit in. Even worse, these videos, which were meant to be for research, had turned you on to the point of no return. 

You can feel him looking at you out of the corner of your eye. You’d have to be blind not to notice how hard he’s become in his sweatpants. It’s almost thrilling at this point to see who breaks first. 

Your body shudders as Joel moves to change the video to the next one. Christ, help me. He chooses something from the exhibition category, and you can feel your stomach twisting with desire. 

“You doin’ alright?” His gravelly voice rumbles from beside you, a weak mhmm leaving your lips in response. Your eyes trace over the dark swirls of ink that curve around his forearm and flourish into a larger design on his bicep. You remember the day you asked if it hurt—if the needle pressing into flesh left behind more than just beauty. He didn’t answer; he just shot you a sly smirk, the kind that left you wondering if the pain was part of the allure. 

Joel reaches over, his firm hand squeezing your trembling thigh. It feels like a force of nature, the way you gush harder at the physical contact. You swallow the lump in your throat as you feel his hand move to the waistband of your sweats. 

You don’t move, don’t breathe. Both of your gazes are fixed on the laptop screen, not shifting even when his fingers curl inside your wet panties. He parts your pussy lips, feeling her warmth and arousal soak his fingers. A shaky breath leaves you as one of his fingers slowly circles your swollen clit. 

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly, your forehead resting against his tattooed bicep. 

“I know,” is all he has to say. 

His fingers dip lower, swirling the tips around your desperate hole before finally sinking in. 

You stare at the video, but it’s like white noise at this point. Neither of you pays attention to the screen, but the blood rushing to your ears forces you to catch every moan and grunt from the partners in the video. 

“Jesus,” you can’t help but pant out. “Please,” you weakly beg. 

All Joel does is tut darkly. “Jesus ain’t here to save this wet pussy, angel, I am. So you better start beggin’ me.” 

As Joel starts to slowly finger your pussy, you realize it’s less about needing to orgasm and more about the process of feeling satisfied together. 

With your head resting on Joel’s arm, you press soft kisses against his tan skin as your hand reaches past the waistband of his grey sweatpants. 

Your touch is electric. You watch as Joel sits up straight beside you once you start slowly stroking his already hard cock–he’s heavy in your hand, your gentle fingertips able to feel all the prominent veins of his shaft. 

Joel’s low groan fills the room, and you know he’s struggling to keep himself from ripping your panties down your legs and getting his fill of you. 

But that’s not the game you two are playing. 

Your hot breath fans across his skin as he crooks his fingers to just the right spot within your cunt, the feeling unexpected as he stretches your sweet pussy. The sensation forces your hand to squeeze Joel a little harder, a distinct growl of both pain and pleasure fueling his ministrations. Once again, you’re reminded that pleasure protects you like a shield, and pain is the only thing that can penetrate it. Pain doesn’t just hurt Joel. It transforms him.

“I wanna bend you over like that,” he admits, his tongue playing with his lip piercing out of habit. Your hazy eyes slowly flick from Joel to your laptop. The video has changed again. The man in the video currently has a housemaid bent over the kitchen counter, doing whatever he pleases to her, while his wife sits in the dining room simply flipping through her newspaper and drinking her coffee. 

You’re not as good at this as Joel is; you can barely speak as he pleasures you. “W-We’d get caught,” you breathe out, your hips grinding against his fingers as his thumb starts to work over your pearl. 

Joel hums darkly, shifting a third finger into your entrance. It’s a burning stretch, one that forces out a low whine from deep in your throat. Your touch all but abandons Joel, his jaw tightening as you remove your hand from his swollen cock. 

You stare deep into his dark eyes as you lick a slow stripe up your palm, excess saliva trailing down your hand before you return it to his aching member. 

“Fuck,” he pants, his head falling back to rest on the headboard with a hard thud. He doesn’t fucking care. The pleasure outweighs the pain. 

“Come here, baby,” Joel instructs as his fingers exit your warmth. 

You whine like a brat but follow his instructions. He pulls you onto your knees, moving your upper half over his lap and shoving his sweatpants down so his cock is finally free. 

“Use that pretty mouth of yours. Always so perfect for me,” he coos. “Now go slow.” 

His words have you mewling in pleasure, resting your head on his lap as you suckle his tip into your warm mouth. It’s teasing, but you want to go slow, to do what he told you to. You want him to last. 

He pulls your sweats and panties down, your warm pussy and the globes of your ass shocked by the cool air hitting your skin. You let out a needy whimper–he never fails to pleasure you, even while chasing his own release. Arching your back, you put yourself on display for him.

“Keep watchin’ the screen. Good girl,” Joel mutters as he slowly gathers your hair in one fist, lazily dragging your head up and down his cock. He fills your mouth, and for a moment, you forget to breathe. Your eyes grow teary, your body flinching as you choke down his length in a desperate attempt to taste his salty finish. Swallowing down as much of him as you can, you bury your nose against the coarse dark hair at the base of his shaft, gulping around his length. Desire ultimately outweighs Joel’s orders for you to go slow, and you begin to suck his cock at your own more eager pace. His grunts of pleasure fill your ears, the grip on your hair only tightening, whatever restraint he has left quickly deserting him. 

Joel is a man whose sexual pleasure derives from control—a fragile dominance that feeds his pleasure. But that control is unraveling, slipping through his gasp faster than he can regain himself. 

“Hey,” he grumbles, yanking you off his shaft by your hair. He slips out of your hungry mouth–you still try to get him back into the safety of your warmth as he reprimands you. A spank to your aching pussy with his heavy hand sends a shockwave of throbbing need across your body, jolting you to life as you let out a whine for him. “I said slow. It’ll feel better the longer you wait, I promise. For both of us.” 

You have to trust him. You know he knows best. 

Swallowing down thick spit, you nod against his grip. “Yes, daddy. I’m sorry, daddy.” 

That goddamn name. It pulls something from deep inside of Joel, a monster in hibernation that’s hungry for something to cross its path and wake it up. 

And you just did. 

“Good girl.” The grip he has on your hair tightens, and you’re back to stuffing his cock down your tight throat. 

You follow his instructions. The speed is slow, as promised, but every touch feels exhilarating. Your senses are on overdrive. The tingling in your scalp, the feeling of his two thick tattooed fingers plugging your cunt, his thumb circling your already charged clit–it was all so desperate to unfurl. 

You can feel Joel pulsing inside your mouth, ready to gush like a volcano on the verge of eruption. You trace the vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue, his precum adding a layer of tanginess to your tastebuds. 

You weakly moan against him, trying to force out as much excess saliva as you can. It drips down all his inches and coats the hair on his balls. Your arousal leaks down his fingers. The woman in the video lets out strangled moans from the kitchen counter, and finally, the man’s wife takes notice of the two fucking on the counter. She acts shocked, catching them both in the act. 

Joel wins. 

You cry out against his cock and tighten the suction you have on his shaft, slurping and letting out lewd sounds as you quicken the pace of your mouth. You ignore the pain in your jaw and neck, eager to taste his salty release. Joel must agree that the game is up because his hand no longer guides you–he simply pumps his fingers faster inside your desperate cunt. Your hips drive back against his hand, the heel of his palm adding extra friction to your clit. 

“Goddam, you wanna choke on it that bad? Fill your mouth up, wishing it was your pussy? Listen to this good little pussy purr,” Joel moans out as he massages the spongy walls within your cunt, and you can already feel your stomach begin to spasm. 

You gluck gluck gluck around his dick, mouth filled with so much of him that it makes you light-headed with lust. He rips you away from his cock, but only for a moment, a rush of air filling your lungs as he lays your head on top of his thigh. Your eyes are wild and lost, desperate for one thing and one thing only. 

“Tell me,” Joel demands, the veins in his neck pulsing as the crease between his eyebrows deepens. “Tell me what you are, what you want.” 

You whine something pathetic as Joel’s fingers only quicken inside your cunt. “Fuck!” you cry out, your entire body shuddering over his lap as you keep stroking his sticky cock with your hand. 

He makes you admit your thoughts, your sexual desires, and everything you're thinking out in the open. It forces you to be vulnerable with your sexuality–something that doesn’t come easy for you, but Joel willingly helps you navigate. 

If you want to finish, you need to spill your secrets and fantasies. 

It surges like a headrush, electric along your spine and needy for him as you find your words. 

“I-I’m such a fucking slut for your cum, Joel, please baby, I wanna taste you so bad,” you stutter and slur as Joel hums approvingly. His thumb wipes away a stray tear, something comforting and warm in the way he praises you for trying. You feel your orgasm working its way up through your bones, through the heat in your stomach, until it slips down your spine. “I-I wanna feel it down my throat, I want it to be my last meal, I- fuck, I feel so fucking dumb with your cock in my mouth. I worship him.”

Joel’s hanging onto every word, his chest pumping with the added fuel to his ego. His jaw clenches tighter and tighter, teeth gritting as he groans your name at the praise.

“Christ,” he mutters, enamored by your words and how pretty you look with his precum and your saliva glistening on your lips. “Such a good girl for me, so fuckin’ perfect.” 

Something different pools at the base of your stomach, something you don’t fully understand, but it’s familiar. You whimper in embarrassment because it almost feels like you need to pee, but you don’t, your thighs getting splashed by something more than an orgasm, and Joel really fucking likes it.

“Oh god, d-did I-”

“Yeah, bunny, you fuckin’ squirted for me,” Joel growls as he drags you back over him. 

You’re slurping at his cock, and it doesn’t take long for you to both reach the orgasm you’ve been holding out on while watching this damn porn. 

Glistening tears flow down your cheeks, your brain dumb with pleasure as the euphoria finally floods the tight clench in your stomach. Your release pools down Joel’s fingers, his own more desperate and needy as he shoots white-hot spurts down your throat. You moan against his shaft and roll your head from side to side, nose buried in the thick hair of his happy trail as you swallow around his cock like he taught you. 

Joel groans out in pleasure, your tongue still lazily lapping around his shaft. “So fuckin’ good, that was so hot, baby. Jesus Christ.” 

He strokes your hair, and you both slow to nothing, feeling like you’ve run a marathon. His fingers stay buried inside your wasted cunt, your wet mouth weakly panting against his warm thigh. Joel reaches forward and closes the laptop. 

“Did you… did you see any positions you liked?” 

You don’t respond right away. You know he’s talking to you, but it takes a few moments for it to register. 

“I think… I’ve got a few ideas for our debut.” 

Joel chuckles tiredly, laying his head back against the headboard once more.

“We’re really doin’ this? We’re gonna make porn?”

You sigh weakly and find the strength to sit up, facing the weathered look Joel is sporting. You give him an innocent smile as you wipe your chin with your forearm. “That’s right, daddy.” 

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[deakyjoe]

Arranged & Absolute

Pairing: Papa Emeritus IV/Copia x Reader (fem, afab)

Category: arranged marriage, smut

Summary: To strengthen his new position as Papa, Copia agrees to marry someone he’s never met.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, desk sex, you get cum on the paperwork, vaginal fingering, grinding/dry humping, kissing, groping, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, awkward first meeting, Sister Imperator being a supportive mother (but not because Copia doesn’t know she’s his mother), dead Papas (all of them, even Nihil), guilt, self esteem issues, parental issues, loneliness, poorly translated Italian, reader vaguely described as being shorter than Copia but nothing else, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: I chose the gif specifically because he looks hot in it. This fic went from “huh maybe one day I could write about an arranged marriage thing with Copia but I don’t know what exactly yet since I don’t have any solid ideas” to “what the fuck have I done” in the space of less than 24 hours! Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Copia had thought it was a stupid idea. But Sister Imperator had insisted. So here he was. On his wedding day. Having never met his bride.

His foot tapped against the floor at a rapid pace, nerves radiating out of him, as he stood at the head of the chapel and watched the guests flood in to take their seats. He didn't fail to notice that almost everybody there was there for him, so many of them arriving in fact that they had to start sitting on the pews that were supposed to be reserved for your friends, family and kin. But he knew you'd travelled a long way, practically the only information he knew about you, so maybe no one from your home was willing to make the journey. Still, Copia found it sad.

Sister Imperator stood at his side, attempting to be supportive. "Calm down. The ceremony will go smoothly."

That wasn't what he was worried about. He knew the wedding itself would go smoothly, Sister would make sure of it, but everything else about it seemed all wrong. For starters, he'd never met his future wife. Which was bad enough by itself. But what if you hated him? From what he'd understood, you weren't too thrilled about the pairing either but your father had managed to convince you. Copia had met your father at least but he wasn't a particularly nice man.

When Imperator had initially come to Copia with the idea he'd laughed it off thinking it was a joke. An arranged marriage in the 21st century? And in the Satanic church where they encouraged freedom of all places? He thought it was nonsense. But then when she'd explained that a well thought out match would be put in place to strengthen his new title of Papa Emeritus IV... he started to realise that she was being serious.

He'd refused at first, saying that his position was enough. He was Papa now. And there was no taking that away, especially with his three predecessors dead and Nihil also in the grave. Who was there to question his authority? But Imperator pointed out his lack of legitimacy, he wasn't really an Emeritus, and how Papa Nihil had been reluctant to let him be the face of the clergy when he was still a mere Cardinal. Then he saw the cracks in his status.

So he agreed. A spouse would be found for him, to stand by his side and bring more power to his Papacy. He'd only allowed himself a brief second of panic when Imperator had mentioned in passing the need for an heir.

Copia looked at Sister, who had changed out of the usual skirt suit she wore and had chosen to adorn a dress in a nice green colour that suited her. Despite insisting that the whole thing was a formality, Copia appreciated her effort in making the day nice. "What if she doesn't like me?"

The older woman's face softened for a moment, how hadn't she realised that was what he was nervous about? He was a sensitive soul after all, constantly seeking approval. "She will adore you, C. Don't worry."

Copia looked down at his outfit, what if he wasn't dressed well enough? First impressions mattered after all. And the paints on his face itched more than usual. What if they started sweating off? But it was too late to dwell on that now. The last few people settled in the pews and silence descended over the chapel. It was time.

The large double doors at the back of the room swung open with a creak and the quartet in the corner started playing, what Copia believed to be, some sort of twist on the wedding march. He froze as his eyes landed on you, the reality of the situation dawning on him fully and sending him into a spiral. He was about to marry somebody he'd never met.

He tried not to let it show as you started walking towards him down the aisle, a train of lace following you. Nobody was walking you to him, ready to give you away, he noticed. Your father hadn't come to the wedding? Copia drank you in, the black wedding dress sweeping down the curves of your body and the matching veil covering your face. At least he had a moment to compose himself before he had to make eye contact with you.

You walked quickly, like you wanted to get the whole thing over and done with, and you were stood at the base of the steps in front of Copia before he could blink twice. He offered a gloved hand to you to help you up, which you took after a brief moment of staring at it through your veil. Copia squeezed it gently, hoping to offer some support and solidarity. He didn't know if it translated well.

And then you were in front of him, and the ceremony was beginning.

Imperator coughed quietly behind him. "C, the veil."

"Oh." He gasped and reached up the take the bottom of it in his fingertips, pausing for a second to allow you a moment to stop him if you wanted, before lifting it and pushing it back over your head.

The moment he met your eyes, Copia felt all oxygen leave his body. You were beautiful.

You sent him a nervous smile. "Hi."

Your voice was barely a whisper, so small and worried, that he barely heard you.

"Hi." He replied, sending a smile of his own and taking your hands in his.

Sister Imperator relaxed behind him, she could tell that he was smitten with you already. She’d chosen well.

The officiant ran through the ceremony with ease, the two of you repeating all the necessary parts when needed. Then suddenly it was over, the 'I do's' were said, rings were exchanged and Copia was a married man.

"You may kiss the bride." The officiant said.

Copia looked at you for confirmation that it was okay and when you gave a small nod of approval, he shuffled towards you and rested a gloved hand on your cheek. You leaned in first, which he was glad for as he felt as if his heart was about to beat up and out of his mouth, and met him halfway. Your lips pressed together for a second or two before the both of you pulled away with shy smiles.

The room cheered, a clear mix of real elation and dubious celebration. It wasn't a love match after all. But Copia didn't care, he had high hopes about the pairing now. You seemed nice enough and he found you breathtaking, he just hoped you could feel a fraction of the same about him. Which he feared you didn't, what could he possibly offer you?

The thoughts left him as Sister Imperator patted him on the back. "Well done, C."

"Thank you." He nodded at her before looking back towards you again.

Imperator looked at you as well. "And congratulations, it's lovely to finally meet you."

"Thank you, Sister. My father speaks very highly of you." You bowed your head at her before glancing at your new husband. "I think we're supposed to run out of here now. Like the wild newlyweds people expect to see."

Copia grinned, liking your attitude, and nodded his head in agreement. "That is exactly what people expect, shall we?”

You took the hand he offered to you and the two of you trotted down the few steps before speeding towards the doors of the chapel. People shouted words of praise and felicitations as you passed them which you could only smile at in return.

Once the both of you had burst out of the exit and the doors had swung shut behind you, a moment of peace was found. You turned to each other breathless, bashful looks gracing your faces.

“Hi.” You said, louder than the first time at the altar.

“Hi.” He repeated back to you. “You look beautiful in your dress, by the way.”

“Oh, thank you.” You looked down at the garment before looking back at him. “You look handsome too. I like your jacket.”

“This old thing?” Copia replied before wincing. Why did he make it seem like he’d worn an old jacket for his wedding?

But you didn’t seem to notice his slip up as you continued to smile at him. “What happens now?”

“I believe Sister Imperator has organised a banquet for us.” He pulled you closer to him as guests started to file out of the chapel and guided you in the direction of the ballroom.

“A banquet? That’s pretty fancy.” You chimed, looping your arm through his so the two of you could walk together.

“She pulled out all the stops.” Copia looked over at you, surprised at how well you seemed to be taking it all. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.” You glanced over your shoulder at the crowd of people that was emerging steadily. “Can we just walk a little faster? I don’t want to be bombarded by all those people just yet.”

“Sì, sì.” He increased his pace, making sure you were tightly secured to his side the whole time. “What made you agree to this marriage? I heard at first that you said no.”

“Ah.” You paused. “I did say no at first. Nothing personal against you, I promise.”

“We did not know each other. It’s okay.” He assured before letting you carry on.

“I didn’t want to marry a stranger. But I did want to escape my father. You know who he is, correct?”

Copia nodded. “I’ve met him.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sorry.” You winced. “He’s not a nice man. But holds a high position in the clergy. I’m his only child, you see. And he’s always drilled into me that I am useless because I am a daughter. What use is a daughter? I cannot be an heir and inherit anything from him.”

“That’s not true!” He gasped. “The clergy dictates that-“

You cut him off by laying a hand on his arm. “It’s not the clergy’s doing. It’s my father’s. It’s okay, I grew used to his archaic ways. Anyway he said the only good I would be was marrying me off. At first I said no because I thought he was going to marry me off to an old, ugly man who was unkind. Then he told me that you seemed sensitive when he met with you which translates to nice. And he also told me that no Emeritus has ever been ugly. I believed him. He used to keep a portrait of Papa Emeritus III before he died so I knew there was some truth in that at least.”

Copia’s stomach twisted at the reminder of Terzo’s death, a sense of guilt still ate away at him when he thought about him and his older brothers. But he didn’t let it show in front of you. “Well, I am glad that you decided to believe that I was not unkind nor ugly. However, considering you didn’t mention anything about me not being old I am going to assume that you consider me to be ancient.”

You gasped out a laugh. “I didn’t say that!”

“You didn’t need to. It was implied.” He laughed along with you as you reached the ballroom, pushing the door open to allow you to go in first. When he joined your side again, he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth as you linked your arm with his again.

“Wow.” You mumbled as you took in the expanse of the room. “You weren’t kidding when you said Sister Imperator pulled out all the stops.”

Copia led you over to the table designed for the newlywed couple. It held four chairs. One for him, one for you, one for Sister, and one meant for your father. He guessed that chair would remain empty for the evening.

You made no comment on it as you took your seat, watching your new husband closely as he sat next to you. “What about you? What made you agree to this marriage?”

He sighed deeply before looking at you. “I feared my place as Papa would be easy to shake. I didn’t inherit it officially through the Emeritus line like my predecessors. Marrying a family member of a high upper clergy member is meant to solidify my status.”

“Ah, a power play.” You nodded.

“Yes, a power play.” He frowned at that term. “But I only agreed once Sister promised she would find me a good match.”

“And what constitutes as a good match to you?” You asked, wondering what he’d requested in a wife.

A smile lit up his face. “The gorgeous woman who is sitting in front of me.”

“Smooth.” You replied, reminding yourself to interrogate him on the topic later.

Guests started flooding in, finding their seats at the various tables that filled the room. You just watched with barely concentrated attention.

You turned to Copia once the room was about three quarters of the way full. “How many of these people do you actually know?”

“I recognise most of them. I would say I probably know a third of them personally.” He shrugged. “How many do you know?”

“None of them.” You shrugged. “I didn’t have any guests come.”

“What? None of them?” He couldn’t quite believe that. He’d assumed that the people he didn’t recognise were your half of the wedding party.

“I don’t know many people back home. Those I do know… I wouldn’t want them here.” Your nose scrunched at the memory, the people you’d grown up around were not people you needed ruining what was supposed to be the happiest day of your life.

Copia looked at you sadly for a moment, wondering whether you were upset by the ordeal. But you seemed fine. “Well, now you have me.”

You looked at him, surprised, before a gentle smile settled on your face. “Now I have you.”

He returned the smile, picking up your hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of it. He mumbled an apology when he noticed the black kiss print he’d left on the skin there. You stopped him when he reached for a napkin to wipe it away, insisting he leave it there.

The moment was disrupted by Sister Imperator collapsing into the seat next to Copia. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

You exchanged a slightly giddy look with Copia before looking back at the older woman.

“We are.” He clarified. “You matched us well.”

“Knew I would.” She said smugly before looking at the empty chair next to you. “Your father did not attend.”

It was a statement more than a question.

A neutral smile settled over your lips, like you were prepared to discuss this. “No. I didn’t want him here. He didn’t want to be here. It was an easy enough decision.”

Imperator respected that response so said no more on the matter, only glancing towards the door to the kitchens where a group of servers were bustling about. “Food should be served soon. Then the day’s celebrations will be over.”

“No after party?” Copia sounded disappointed.

“That’ll be held next weekend. After all official marriage business has been taken care of. Ah, the food!” She sat up straighter in her chair as a waiter suddenly appeared and placed a plate in front of each of you.

You stared down at the appetiser salad that was about the size of your big toe. You hoped there were more courses to come. A lot more. Nevertheless, you picked up your fork and stabbed at a crunchy piece of lettuce before popping it in your mouth.

Copia did the same next to you before looking back towards Imperator again. “Official marriage business? Like what? We are married.”

She looked at him like it was obvious. “Well, you know what happens on the wedding night.”

He only looked more confused. “People getting drunk?”

Imperator rolled her eyes before practically hissing at him. "You must consummate the marriage."

Both you and Copia stopped chewing, forks being lowered to your plates with a clatter.

You swallowed the mouthful, straining slightly to force it down. "How- how soon?"

"Well, tonight preferably." Imperator said calmly. "To solidify your union."

"Sister, we've only just met." Your husband croaked.

The older woman looked at him unimpressed. "Are you trying to tell me you've never had a one night stand with someone you just met?"

"Well-" Copia choked. "That's- that's different."

"Different how?" She questioned, eyes flicking between the two of you. "Treat it like a one night stand. If it's terrible then you do not have to touch each other again. Well, until an heir is expected. But if it is good then see it as a lovely start to your marriage."

You ignored the talk of an heir, the thought of having a man you just met's baby being too much for you to handle in that moment. "Okay."

"Okay?!" Copia whirled on you, surprised you'd agreed that easily.

"Ah, beloved husband, do you find me that repulsive?" You grinned at him, only a hint of genuine worry in your voice.

"No, no. Of course not." He rushed out, thinking about how it was quite the opposite in fact. "I just did not expect you to give in so quickly."

"Give in?" You asked, eyebrows raising in question. "It might surprise you that the concept of sleeping with you does not sound so bad to me, Copia."

His heart, and cheeks, warmed at the use of his name. It was the first time you'd done so. It sounded nice coming out of your mouth. Out of his wife's mouth. "Eh, very well. We shall consummate the marriage."

"Wonderful." Sister Imperator clapped her hands together before standing up. "I shall inform the clergy of this joyous news."

The two of you watched her walk away, abandoning her salad, the knowledge that a group of old men now knew about your future sex lives playing in the back of your minds.

You shook the thought away as you scooted your chair closer to Copia's, lowering your voice for only him to hear. "You sound elated at the concept of sleeping with me."

His eyes widened as he looked at you. "Um, I uh-"

You smirked. "It's okay. We can just pretend if you'd like. They'll never know the difference."

"No, that's- we don't have to do that. Do you want to do that?" He took a deep breath. "To pretend?"

You looked him up and down. "No."

His ears and neck burned red with a flush. "Really?"

You let out a short giggle. "Yes, why is that so surprising to you?"

"Because I'm- and you're-" He gestured at your face but said no more.

You smiled softly. "Well, to me you are-" You mimicked his gesture to his face.

"Oh." He squeaked and you grinned widely at him. "But you're sure? So soon?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Although I would maybe like to see what's underneath all this paint first." You said, letting your eyes roam his face.

"Of course, of course." He babbled. "Maybe you will find yourself disappointed and change your mind."

You rolled your eyes. "Unlikely."

Copia liked your confidence in assuming you were going to find yourself attracted to his face underneath the makeup. He wasn’t so sure himself but at least you’d given his ego a slight boost.

The two of you exchanged idle conversation as more food was served, bigger portions to your relief, and the occasional guest came up to your table to wish you congratulations. You didn’t fail to notice the looks of envy that were sent your way by several people who eyed up Copia hungrily as they approached. You could only laugh to yourself, finding it even funnier that your new husband seemed to lack faith in his looks despite there clearly being a long line of people who wanted him.

A couple of hours passed by and soon enough the guests started clearing out, which you were thankful for. You couldn’t wait to take your shoes off or to ease up the laces on your dress. It had been a long day. But you knew it wasn’t over yet. The time was slowly approaching. The time when you were supposed to sleep with your new husband for the first time.

You weren’t nervous exactly. But there was still an element of apprehension deep inside you.

Once the last few people had departed and Sister Imperator had wished you both a good night, a very suggestive look on her face, you and Copia were left in an empty ballroom.

“Would you like me to give you a tour of the building now? Or in the morning?” He asked you as he took your hand in his, rubbing his gloved thumb over your knuckles.

“In the morning.” You decided. “It will give us something to look forward to. Besides, I can see that you’re tired.”

“Not too tired for you, I promise.” He sighed. “It’s just been a long day.”

“I know.” You agreed and stood up. “Let’s go to bed.”

The words weren’t suggestive in the slightest which is why Copia didn’t feel nervous as he joined your side and the two of you made your way out of the ballroom. He pointed out a few landmarks of the place as you walked in the direction of his rooms but everything went largely unexplored. It could wait for tomorrow.

Anxiety set in as you reached the corridor that led to his bedroom. What if you didn’t like his space? He was willing to change things, to accommodate, as he wanted you to feel welcome. But what if you hated it? And didn’t want to share a room, or a bed, with him. He supposed he would find you your own place to stay. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make him sad.

“And these are my rooms.” He said as he pushed his door open and ushered you in. “Our rooms, if you’d like. But if not then I’m sure we can find you somewhere of your own to stay.”

You looked around as the doors were closed behind you. It was nice. Very him from what you’d gathered so far. There was a book case, overflowing with volumes, next to a desk covered in paperwork in one corner. A large bed took up almost an entire wall, four posters with a curtain hanging around it. Fancy. He had an ornate oak wardrobe teeming with sparkly jackets that poked out of the open doors, you’d have to ask him to model some of those for you at a later date.

You turned towards Copia with a timid smile. “I don’t want to intrude. This is your home.”

He rushed towards you, taking your hands in his to reassure you. “It’s your home now too. I want you to be comfortable here. Well, not right here if you don’t want. Or if you do want.”

You couldn’t express how relieved you were at how sweet he was. “I do want. For now at least.”

His face lit up. “You’ll stay here? With me?”

You nodded, matching his positivity. “Yes.”

“Wonderful, hehe.” He paused and glanced over your shoulder towards the bed. “I will go wash my face and then… then we can…”

“Consummate the marriage?” You offered with a sarcastic smile. “It’s okay, we can take it slow.”

Copia nodded before turning and disappearing into the bathroom. You took the opportunity to snoop around a little, to get a feel for your new husband some more.

In the bathroom, he washed his face meticulously, careful not to be too harsh on his skin. He wanted to look clean and fresh for you, not like a ripe tomato from being too aggressive with a washcloth.

Once he was done Copia stared at himself in the mirror, face only slightly red from where he’d scrubbed the paint away. Faint traces of black had been left around his eyes but he knew no amount of rubbing his eyes raw with a washcloth would clean it away so he left it there. His fists clenched around the edge of the basin, nerves setting in. What if you were disappointed by what was revealed to be under his paints? You said it was unlikely you would be but a part of him still worried. The day had been going smoothly, almost too smoothly, that he thought something was bound to go wrong. And what if it turned out to be his appearance.

Pushing all of that away, he realised that he wouldn’t know any of it for sure until he just went for it. So, after letting the murky grey water wash away, Copia opened the bathroom door and stepped out with an air of faux confidence that quickly dissipated.

He found you stood next to his desk, eyes scanning his book shelves as you had a good look at all of the titles. You glanced over your shoulder at him, doing a double take when you saw him. He was standing in the arch of the bathroom doorway, backlit with light that made him glow. If you weren’t a Satan worshipper you would have said he looked angelic.

Copia shifted from foot to foot as you stared at him silently. The panic was starting to set in again as you continued to say nothing. Why weren’t you saying anything? That feeling vanished when you held out a hand to him.

“Come here.” You said quietly, tipping your head back to invite him over.

He practically ran to you, taking your hand in his but still keeping his distance by a foot or so.

You closed the distance yourself, lifting your spare hand to cup the side of his face in it. “You are so beautiful.”

His shoulders relaxed, tension leaving them, as he leaned into your touch and turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand. “That is high praise coming from you.”

You shook your head playfully. “Oh, my husband’s a charmer.”

My husband. He was your husband. He liked that. “Only for you, amore mio.”

“Don’t go making promises you might not be able to keep.” You teased, warmth flooding through you at the term of endearment he’d used. “What if we hate each other?”

“I think we made a promise when we recited our vows.” He kissed your palm again before leaving one on your wrist as well, quickly making his way down your arm until it was wrapped around the back of his neck. “And I cannot imagine myself ever hating anyone as lovely as you.”

You hummed in response, not being able to form a coherent reply as his face drew nearer to yours. His free hand reached for your waist, winding his arm around you and pulling you flush against his chest. Your intertwined hands stayed connected beside you.

He looked down at you with a half smile curling the edges of his mouth. “Cat got your tongue, amore mio?”

You shook your head slowly. “Just wondering where the shy Copia of a few moments ago disappeared to.”

“Ah, well, my gorgeous wife told me I am beautiful so I decided to toss the nerves aside.” He tilted his head to the side innocently.

“Your wife sounds wise.”

“Oh, she is.” His eyes flickered downwards. “She is also driving me crazy in this dress.”

You averted your own eyes in embarrassment. “I was hoping you’d like it.”

“Oh, amore mio, I do. I really do.” Copia decided then to push towards where the night was inevitably going to end. “However, I think I’d like it even better on the floor.”

Your eyes widened at that. But you liked it. “We better get to work then because it has a lot of buttons and a lot of lace up.”

“You are in luck. I am good with that, you see.” He grinned and gestured downwards.

You followed the angle of his hands and saw that he also had a lot of lace up. Over his crotch. “I guess we can help each other then.”

“Sì.”

And with that he kissed you. It was a lot different to the one kiss you’d shared at the altar. That had been shy and slightly awkward, hundreds of people had been watching after all. But this kiss left that one behind. It was sweet and tender, just as you expected from your new husband. But it was also hungry, like he’d been waiting all day for it. Which he had.

The arm around your waist tightened as he craned his neck to meet you halfway. He tasted vaguely of the soap he’d used to clean his face but it wasn’t unpleasant. You hummed against his lips in approval which only spurred him on, his tongue now licking into your mouth. You let your hand card through his hair before sliding it down onto his cheek again, to keep his face close to yours even when you broke apart to breathe. Your connected hands swung lowly by your sides, his fingers twitching against yours and tangling them further together.

You pulled away from him, breathless, and lifted your joint hands. “Can I ask about the gloves? It’s just I noticed that you kept them on when we did the ring exchange. It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Oh, right.” He looked down at his hand, specifically to where his new wedding ring was sitting over the top of the leather. “I don’t know really. I’ve always just liked them.”

You hesitated before answering, taking in the way he was looking at you with pure open honesty, before nodding. “Okay. Would you like to keep them on now?”

Copia shook his head rapidly. “No, I will take them off.”

“You don’t have to.” You assured, not wanting to pressure him in to anything.

“No, I will. And then you can put my ring in its rightful place on my finger. Sì?”

You nodded and stepped back a pace as he slid the gloves from his fingers. You bit back a comment about how his hands were beautiful just like the rest of him and only watched until he looked up at you again. He handed you his wedding ring and offered his left hand out to you.

“You sure? No backing out after this.” You joked.

He chuckled. “I think I signed that right away when I said ‘I do’.”

You hummed and slipped the ring onto his finger, bending down to place a kiss over it once you’d done so. “Ah, perfect. See?”

“Yes, perfect.” He whispered.

When you looked back up you found that he was looking at you. You tried not to swoon.

“Are you going to help me get my dress off now that your fingers are free from leather?” You asked to distract yourself from the way he was looking at you.

“Sì, turn around.”

You did as you were told, exposing your back to him. He unfastened all of the buttons slowly and carefully, being gentle with the fabric of your dress, before exposing the section underneath with all of the ribbons that laced up your dress.

“How long did this take you to put on this morning?” He grunted as he untied the first ribbon and loosened it.

“Too long.” You sighed. “I really needed to pee by the end of it.”

Copia huffed out a laugh, his breath fanning against the back of your neck. “All for me? Amore mio, you shouldn’t have.”

“First impressions matter.” You retorted, letting out a quiet groan of relief once the second ribbon was loosened.

He reflected back on his own thoughts of first impressions only hours previously. They did matter, he agreed. He paused when you let out another quiet groan. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.” You sighed. “This dress may be pretty but it sure is uncomfortable.”

“Should have said something. Would have ripped it off you in the ballroom if it was going to make you comfortable.” He pulled more quickly at the next ribbon, eager to get it off you now.

“Would have been a sight for your guests.” You said over your shoulder.

“No, would have got them to leave. My naked wife is not for them to see.”

“Ah, so possessive already?” You giggled quietly.

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of your neck. “Would prefer it if your body was reserved for me only, yes.”

Your eyelids fluttered shut. “It is, don’t worry.”

His hum of approval vibrated against the skin of your neck. “You’re free by the way.”

Your eyes snapped open and you turned to him again, dress falling loosely around you. You clutched at the neckline for a moment, grasping it to keep you covered. “Um, this dress doesn’t really allow for underwear. So I am actually naked underneath this.”

Copia’s eyes darkened as he glanced towards where you were pressing the fabric against your dress. “Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I was just warning you.” You clarified.

“Warning me?” He took a step closer to you, hand lifting to cover your own. “Amore mio, drop the dress. Please.”

There was only a split second of hesitation before you let go and the dress floated to the ground and created a pool of black lace at your feet. Copia tried desperately to keep his eyes on yours but the temptation was too strong. And when he looked down, there was no looking back up again.

He drank you in slowly but ravenously, eyes taking in every inch of your exposed form. When he started babbling words of appreciation to the Dark One, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore.

“It’s only fair.” You stated before reaching for his own laces at his crotch.

Copia just batted your hand away from him, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning the two of you around. Before you could ask what he was doing, he slid his hands down to the back of your thighs and lifted you the couple of inches onto his desk.

“Your paperwork-” You started but he cut you off.

“Don’t worry about it.” He huffed and kissed you again.

You moaned into his mouth when he started pawing at you, hands gliding over your body and squeezing at the handfuls of flesh he was finding. He seemed to be doing it more for his own enjoyment than yours. But you didn’t care, happy that he was just appreciating your body.

Your hips jumped forward when his clothed pelvis met yours, a mewl tumbling from your mouth at the friction. Copia took note of that and hooked an arm around the back of your ass and scooted you forward towards the edge of the desk.

“Did that feel good?” He asked and smiled when you nodded enthusiastically. “Hm.”

He bucked his hips towards yours again, using his hand at the small of your back to guide you closer to him and encourage your own movements. You whimpered into his mouth, desperate for more. It felt good but you needed more. You needed him.

“Copia…” You whined, hoping to get the idea across.

“I know, amore mio, I know.” He huffed, shrugging his jacket off of his shoulders. “Can you get the buttons on my shirt please?”

Your hands flew to unfasten it as quickly as possible, not questioning why he wasn’t doing it himself. Not until one of his hands drifted from your waist to your inner thigh at least. You paused momentarily, toes curling, when his thumb brushed against your clit. Watching your reactions closely, Copia did it again.

You cried out, forehead dropping to meet his chest. “Please.”

“Please what, amore mio? Tell me, hm?” He kissed the top of your head gently to encourage you, the confidence he had when performing as Papa now helping him take charge now.

“More. Please more.” You didn’t have the words to describe what you needed.

But he knew. He lifted your head with his free hand, kissing you again, before rubbing a tight circle against your clit with his thumb. The noise you made cemented what he already knew. So he did it a few more times before re-angling his hand to slide a finger inside of you.

It felt so good that you bit down on his bottom lip by accident.

“Ah, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grumbled against him.

“No apologies necessary.” He replied softly, pulling his finger back out before pumping it back in again. This time joined with a second one.

Your eyes closed in pleasure, head dropping backwards and legs circling around the backs of his.

“Amore mio, you didn’t finish with my shirt.” He reminded you in a playful tone.

Your eyes shot open again, your hands racing to get the last of the buttons undone and the garment off of him. When it was done, pushed off his shoulders, slid down his arms, his hand momentarily retracting from you to get it fully off and on the floor, you immediately leaned forward and started exploring his chest with your mouth. You kissed, you licked, you sucked, you bit, you were insatiable. Copia enjoyed your enthusiasm.

So he doubled down in his own actions, pumping his fingers into you at an even faster speed, thumb circling your clit even harder. And soon enough it had you crashing over the edge and collapsing backwards on the desk, back flattening against the piles of paperwork.

Copia licked his hand clean, sucking your essence from his skin, with a satisfied hum. He then finished undressing himself, having no trouble with his own laces, before grabbing your hips to get your attention.

You lazily lifted your head, shooting straight up when you saw what he’d been hiding between his legs. “Are all Papas this hung?”

He barked out a laugh. “Yes, it’s a requirement for the position.”

You watched as he pumped himself a few times before stepping forward and running his tip through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. Your jaw hung open the whole time.

Copia rested a hand on your cheek to get your attention again. “Amore mio, are you ready?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah, I’m ready.”

He slid into you with ease, face falling to meet your shoulder as you swallowed him in. He groaned lowly at the feeling, you were so warm and wet and felt so good. You made your own desperate sounds next to his ear that he couldn’t even take a moment for himself, too eager to please you. So he pulled back out slowly before thrusting in again. Your hands flew to his back, keeping him near as your nails scratched into him. He didn’t care.

Lifting his head to see the two of you meeting between your bodies, he noticed that you were doing the same thing. He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you when you made eye contact. Thoughts ran wild through his head, wondering how’d he been lucky enough to be granted you as his mystery wife. The universe must have messed up somehow, right? No, it hadn’t. Because here you were. On your wedding night. And he was inside of you as you kissed.

The kiss made mobility difficult but neither of you wanted to pull away. Copia had an arm around your waist to keep you steady and a hand on the back of your head to keep you close. You, on the other hand, just clung onto him like your life depended on it. His hips snapped backwards and forwards at a fast pace to keep the friction going but not too harshly as to disturb the meeting of your mouths. Your tongue licked into his mouth hotly and Copia could taste the desire on you. It reflected what he already felt in himself.

“Close.” You managed to gasp out during a break for oxygen.

But Copia knew that, he could tell by the way you were clenching around him. So he didn’t switch up the pace, just kept going with what he knew felt good for you. And soon enough, he had you falling over the precipice again.

He wasn’t far behind, hips rutting forward frantically a few more times before he pulled out and spilled himself over your thighs and the stacks of paperwork you were sitting on.

You giggled tiredly at the sight and looked up at him. “It’s our wedding night and we didn’t even make it to the bed.”

He hadn’t even realised that, glancing over at his large bed with fresh sheets. “We still have time.”

The fatigue washed away at that answer. “Oh?”

Copia offered a hand out to you. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up first.”

You took his hand and hopped off the desk, following him into the bathroom where he washed your thighs off. After that, Copia led his wife to your shared bed where he planned to keep you for the foreseeable future.

A/N: me staring at the title of this fic knowing full well I already have an Obi-Wan fic titled “Absolution”. It bothers me a little but not enough to come up with a new title since this one took me almost as long to come up with as it took me to write the fic itself.

[cobrakaisb]

blood is red, like paige’s cheeks

summary: when cocky and confident quidditch player paige bueckers accidentally hits you in the face with a bludger, she never imagined it would lead to an intense crush on the unexpecting victim.

featuring: fluff, cocky but also flustered/nervous paige, reader’s house is unspecified!!

word count: 1.05k

author’s note: my new hobby is combining paige beuckers and my favorite fandoms 😌↕️ also this is my first paige fic (or fic in months honestly) so i’m sorry if it feels rambly/rushed!! hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

paige knew she was screwed the second she saw you sitting in the quidditch stands. technically, quidditch practice is open to anyone, but spectators usually consist of teammate’s friends. you could have fallen into that category; maybe you talked with azzi or sat behind dean thomas in a class. however, that all seemed unlikely.

instead of listening to oliver wood, her quidditch captain, who was explaining whatever new drill he conjured up, paige watched you. that was definitely her first mistake—watching you instead of listening to wood’s yapping. you were reading a book, completely unbothered by the noise of the pitch. she tried to make out the title, but the distance prevented her from seeing it clearly. so, she guessed that you were using the quidditch practice as an excuse to sit outside and enjoy the nice weather, rather than support a friend. 

“you got that, bueckers?” wood asked, drawing her eyes away from you. 

“yep. all set,” she replied, an easy smile on her face. 

the captain nodded as the team split up. paige hovered on the sidelines, in a spot where she could both keep an eye on you and hustle through drills. she watched her team for a second, learning wood’s play, before her thoughts wander back to you. you’re in her year (because she remembers seeing you in charms class) but she can’t remember what house you’re in. ravenclaw maybe? since you’re reading for fun and the only other person who does that is hermione granger. yet, you also have that hufflepuff softness. so maybe you’re a hufflepuff? then again, she could be totally off, and you could be in slytherin. regardless, she’s sure it doesn’t matter. 

“bueckers!” wood calls, drawing her attention back to the team, “you’re up!” 

she nods, flying into position to run the play. she’s focused, following the movement of the quaffle as dean and azzi toss it between the two of them. from the corner of her eye, she sees one of the weasley twins direct a bludger her way, without thinking she moves to the side. the bludger doesn’t change course, however, as it’s heading straight for the stands; straight towards you. 

“look out!” she calls, and your eyes meet hers, just in time for your nose to make contact with the bludger. 

there’s a loud, resounding crack, and then you slump down in the stands. paige immediately moves towards you, easily sliding off her broom and climbing the wooden bleachers. “are you okay? i’m so sorry!” she’s shouting, voice panicked. 

you blink, slow and lethargic. “i think my nose is broken,” you mumble, and that’s when paige notices the blood gushing down your face. 

“shit,” she seethes, already taking off her quidditch jersey to press to your nose. her movements are frantic and rough, but once she places the fabric against your skin, a soft gentleness takes over. “i’m gonna take you to the infirmary. pomfrey will fix you right up,” she says, hauling your arm over her shoulders. 

“but your practice,” you try to argue, and she clicks her tongue. “i’ll be fine. i don’t need practice anyway,” she responds, waiting until you take hold of the jersey to grab her broom. 

“that sounds offly cocky,” you mumble, voice warbled between the cloth, blood, and pain. she gives a small smirk, blue eyes shining as she replies, “it is.” 

miraculously, the two of you make it to the infirmary without any further mishaps. paige bursts through the door, her arm still wrapped around your waist while yours is draped across her shoulder.

“oh heavens!” madam pomfrey exclaims upon seeing you, gesturing for paige to guide you to one of the empty beds. 

“she got hit with a stray bludger at quidditch practice. took it right to the nose,” paige explains, setting you down on the cot. 

“well that’s probably broken. any other symptoms?” pomfrey asks, removing the jersey from your face. 

“i’m fine, really,” you insist, and paige clicks her tongue again.

she’s standing with crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows as she looks at you. she gives a gentle shake of her head, causing her ponytail to brush along her shoulders. “she’s delirious,” paige explains, gesturing to you as proof. 

pomfrey nods her head, mumbling about a possible concussion. “i’m going to give you something for the pain, while miss bueckers puts on a shirt,” she announces before walking away. 

paige flushes at pomfrey’s words, pulling her quidditch robe tighter against her chest. she meets your gaze, and her cheeks turn an even darker red when she sees that you’re already watching her. “you were bleeding,” is all she can manage. somehow you muster up a smile. even with your face caked in dried blood she finds it contagious. 

“okay,” madam pomfrey says, placing some vials along your nightstand. “i’m going to fix your nose, and then you’re going to drink these, they’ll help with the pain. we’ll keep you here for a bit, just to monitor everything, and make sure you’re not concussed,” she explains, and paige watches intently as madam pomfrey fixes your nose with a soft spell. you make a pained sound, but the bleeding stops instantly. 

paige shifts on her feet as you down all the potions pomfrey hands you. after the third one, your eyes are dropping, and madam pomfrey helps you lean back onto the pillow. finally, the mediwitch steps aside and turns to paige, whispering, “she’ll be fine. just going to sleep the pain away.” 

paige nods, taking a glance at you. it already looks like you’re asleep. “i should get going then,” she whispers, taking the bloodied jersey off your bed. as she leans down to grab it, your hand wraps around her wrist. her head snaps to you, as you give a gentle tug. her blue eyes meet yours, wide and awestruck, as she becomes acutely aware of her heartbeat speeding up and your fingers pressed to her pulse point. 

“thanks for saving me,” you mumble, eyes flicking over her freckled face. you take one look at her red cheeks, a soft smile taking over your face. “and you’re really pretty,” you add, eyes half-lidded as your grip on her wrist relaxes and you finally drift to sleep.

if she wasn’t blushing before, paige is certainly blushing now.

[postnutclaritys]

So… what’s Jean diagnosis???

At the end of the game Jean mentions having clinical depression. In addition, the Disco Elysium team has spoken on several occasions about his mental health.

I would like to discuss one by one the possible diagnoses and their implications.

Starting: He definitely has a depressive disorder, but within this category there are several.

Depressive disorders: which one applies to Jean?

The common feature of all depressive disorders according to the DSM5 is the presence of a sad, empty or irritable mood, accompanied by somatic and cognitive changes that significantly affect the individual’s functional capacity. What differentiates them is the duration, the temporal presentation or the supposed etiology.

Among these disorders we find the following:

• Disruptive mood dysregulation disorder: Only occurs in children under 12 years old with outbursts and chronic irritability.

• Major depressive disorder: episodes of at least 2 weeks, with intense sadness, problems sleeping, thinking or feeling pleasure. It can be a single episode, but it usually recurs.

• Persistent depressive disorder (dysthymia): what is commonly called “chronic depression,” with milder but longer-lasting symptoms (minimum 2 years).

• Premenstrual dysphoric disorder: occurs in relation to the menstrual cycle, with strong emotional and physical impact.

• Substance/medication-induced depressive disorder or depressive disorder due to another medical condition: caused by medications, drugs or illnesses like hypothyroidism.

Now what we know about Jean: He was diagnosed at 27 years old with depression and currently at 34 he maintains depressive symptomatology. I dare to say he probably has Dysthymia. With this I’m not insinuating that Jean hasn’t had major depressive episodes—of course not—these depressive episodes are totally compatible with the diagnosis of Dysthymia.

Dysthymia is chronic depression, often described as functional depression which is longer (minimum 2 years), of lower intensity and “well-being” moments don’t last more than 2 months. The diagnostic criteria for dysthymia are the following:

Summarizing, dysthymia is characterized by a depressed mood most of the day, present more days than not for at least two years in adults or one year in children and adolescents (in the latter, it may manifest as irritability).

During this period, at least two of the following symptoms must be present:

Appetite changes (decrease or increase).

Insomnia or hypersomnia.

Fatigue or low energy.

Low self-esteem.

Difficulty concentrating or making decisions.

Feelings of hopelessness.

Also:

• Symptoms should not disappear for more than two consecutive months.

• It may coexist with criteria for major depression during the two years.

• There must not have been manic, hypomanic or cyclothymic episodes.

• It is not better explained by psychotic disorders such as schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder.

• It is not caused by substances or medical conditions.

• It causes clinically significant distress or functional impairment.

Which criteria does Jean meet?

From what we know or can infer: Low self-esteem, insomnia, feelings of hopelessness, fatigue (this would explain his use of speed), for 7 years he has maintained a depressed mood.

He very likely has suicidal ideation; thanks to statements by Argo Tuulik we know the only reason he hasn’t killed himself is because of his job, which he feels is the only good thing he does.

Something I’d like to highlight is that in the diagnostic criteria, criterion F states: The alteration is not better explained by persistent schizoaffective disorder, schizophrenia, delusional disorder, or another specified or unspecified disorder of the schizophrenia spectrum and other psychotic disorder.

This leads us to the statements of Martin Luiga

He mentions that Jean is “likely Schizoid” and has a codependent personality.

If Jean is schizoid, we couldn’t diagnose dysthymia so we’re forced to ask ourselves:

Does Jean really fit the schizoid diagnosis?

Schizoid personality disorder is a pattern of detachment from social relationships and a restricted range of emotional expression. This disorder belongs to Cluster A of personality disorders which describe “weird and eccentric people.” According to the DSM5 these are the diagnostic criteria for Schizoid disorder:

To be diagnosed, at least four of the following criteria must be met:

Does not desire or enjoy close relationships, including being part of a family.

Almost always chooses solitary activities.

Shows little or no interest in having sexual experiences with another person.

Takes pleasure in few, if any, activities.

Lacks close friends or confidants other than first-degree relatives.

Appears indifferent to the praise or criticism of others.

Shows emotional coldness, detachment, or flattened affectivity.

Additionally, these symptoms must not be better explained by schizophrenia, mood disorders with psychotic features, other psychotic disorders, autism spectrum disorder, or a medical condition.

Which ones does Jean present?

• Point 4 and 7: he shows flat affect and little enjoyment, but this can be better explained by depression and the fact that he’s really pissed off at Harry.

• Point 5: we rule it out, since Jean does have a very close friendship with Harry.

• Point 6: indifference to praise or criticism. This doesn’t apply to Jean. If we notice, something he really reproaches Harry for is that he told him he “ruined his style” and told him to fuck off. Jean is very affected by what people think of him and his work (his only good quality in his own eyes).

• Points 1, 2 and 3: we don’t have enough information, but even if he met them, they’re better explained by his depressive state.

Jean is not schizoid, he’s just very depressed and without enough support system or resources to build a healthier life.

And the codependent personality?

Now we move on to the other possible diagnosis: codependent personality.

The correct term would be dependent personality disorder, which is a pattern of submissive and clingy behavior related to an excessive need to be taken care of. It belongs to Cluster C, where the predominant symptoms are anxiety and the need to avoid catastrophes. These are the diagnostic criteria according to the DSM5:

To be diagnosed, at least five of the following criteria must be met:

Difficulty making everyday decisions without advice or reassurance from others.

Needs others to assume responsibilities in most major areas of their life.

Difficulty expressing disagreement due to fear of losing support.

Difficulty initiating projects or doing things on their own (due to lack of confidence, not motivation).

Goes to excessive lengths to obtain support or acceptance, even doing unpleasant things.

Feels uncomfortable or helpless when alone, due to exaggerated fears of being unable to care for themselves.

Urgently seeks another relationship when one ends, to get care and support.

Unrealistic preoccupation with fears of being abandoned and having to take care of themselves.

Which ones does Jean meet?

None!

Jean doesn’t hesitate when firing Harry in the bad ending. He doesn’t pass on his responsibilities to anyone else. He isn’t afraid to say what he thinks.

If he met the criteria, he wouldn’t be so aggressive with Harry, he wouldn’t have fired him in the bad ending, he couldn’t be Harry’s right-hand man or take charge of wing C. Jean is not afraid to take care of himself.

He doesn’t have this disorder, but we can’t deny he has a codependent relationship with Harry, which is maintained by many things: substance use, work, the fact that as a satellite officer his job is literally to support his assigned lieutenant, and very likely the good moments they’ve had together, both personally and professionally.

What does his Dysthymia diagnosis entail?

A hard life, a family with a predisposition to depressive disorders, higher probability of major depressive episodes, comorbidities with other personality disorders (commonly Cluster B and C).

Dysthymia often begins early and insidiously, generally in childhood, adolescence or youth, and has a chronic course. Onset before age 21 is related to greater probability of personality disorders and substance abuse.

We don’t know since what age Jean had symptoms, but it’s safe to say he’d been living with them for a long time before his diagnosis.

This disorder affects the prefrontal cortex, anterior cingulate, amygdala, and hippocampus, which are responsible for emotional regulation, decision-making, planning and judgment, memory, emotional learning, conflict detection and stress regulation.

So we can say that Jean likely has difficulty regulating negative emotions (emotional dysregulation), rumination (repetitive negative thoughts), problems with concentration, memory or problem solving, and a very low stress threshold (this is related to memory problems).

This disorder also manifests with polysomnographic alterations or sleep problems, with high comorbidity with sleep-wake disorders.

On top of that, it creates vicious cycles that perpetuate distress, such as:

I feel bad → I sleep badly → I perform worse → I feel worse → I sleep even worse…

This makes people with dysthymia resistant to change. It’s not enough that they know they’re unwell or what’s not working.

This disorder has high comorbidity with anxiety disorders and substance abuse.

In Jean’s case, substance abuse is already present, and if we talk about anxiety disorders, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had comorbidity with generalized anxiety disorder.

After all this all we have left to ask is… what is Jean diagnosis?

Jean’s diagnosis is dysthymia.

[citruslullabies]

Catnap X reader

I've got this idea from another author, perhaps the reader is getting too attached to one of the mini catnaps? They spend their time cuddling the little rascal instead of him and he decides to make his displeasure noticed albeit in his own way.

Oh hey, I love that author! Bumblehoneybee is one of my favorites<3

Trigger warnings: none

Romantic/platonic: neutral (unspecified)

Requested by: anonymous

Category: fluff

Ship (romantic or platonic): catnap x reader

Word count: 565

Cat Fight

After having redeemed Catnap, you were left to depend on him and for him to depend on you with the little things. Whether that be warmth or cuddles, or defenses, you two always had each other's back in the dark and gloomy place. Catnap just like any cat, loved you and saw you as his person.

And that's why you're in the pickle you're in now. A little smiling critter of Catnap had been spying on you before finally walking up to you while meowing its little head off like a banshee. You looked down at the oddly friendly creature and gasped, smiling and kneeling down to pet it in which it gladly accepted. “Awh! You're so cute!” You cooed to the rather prissy and affectionate feline.

Catnap was just coming back from finding food while Poppy and Kissy Missy were busy looking for routes in the place to keep going, happily coming back expecting your praise but was greeted with basically a smack to the face. He set the food and water down and let his ears fall flat, slowly slinking over to you and staring at the tinier version of himself. “..Mouse, why is this.. thing here?”

The larger feline was not at all happy with this, staring down at the smaller version of him. All of your attention was going onto this cheap little declawed copy of him and he didn't appreciate it.

“Catnap, just look at how cute it is! Hmm..” you thought for a moment, before plucking the little kitty into your arms and feeling your heart melt at the feeling of it nuzzling against you and wrapping its tiny paws around your neck. Catnap let out a low growl as he thought about swatting the little creature out of your arms, but refraining from doing so.

“Ugly little thing..” he hissed despite looking like it, displeased as he picked the food back up to continue moving. Kissy Missy was silent as always when they returned, judging the small cat while Poppy made a few comments here and there but ultimately decided it was fine if it was friendly. The entire walk you were just cradling and cooing at the little cat before you decided on a name, gently pressing your nose against its tiny one. “I'm gonna name you.. Cleocatra!” You said, earning a weirded out look from the larger feline and a purr from Cleocatra. But he said nothing.

When tiredness finally overcame your senses, he was more than happy to get cozy on the floor as you set the cat down despite its screaming protests. He wrapped his tail around your form and gently kneaded at your shoulder, being completely at peace before being disrupted by meows and little paws standing on him. He opened his eyes only to be greeted with a tiny Cleo that was pouty and trying to snuggle in-between them, to which Catnap grabbed it by its scruff and set it down away from the both of you. You spent all day with the little fucker, it was his turn.

But the tiny cat just kept pushing until catnap hissed at it, being quiet so he wouldn't wake you up despite your stirring. The little cat huffed and walked off, flicking its tail at Catnap as if it was a middle finger and snuggling up on top of your backpack instead.

Little shit.

Thank you for requesting!

[concorp]

Hey, you made a post that third (or so) hermits are disabled, but people talk only about Scar, can you please ellaborate?

I don't watch many hermits, and the only thing I can assume is that Grian has ADHD (just a hunch from his videos), but please tell me more! I am eager to learn /gen

Grian has never mentioned adhd. however he has spoken of very severe anxiety and panic attacks.

what prompted my post was the post i reblogged before it, where Skizz mentions having MS (multiple sclerosis). he’s been diagnosed since his early 20s.

Xisuma has dyspraxia, which affects motor skills and coordination, and also sometimes speech. that’s much more evident in his very old videos.

Jevin has type 2 diabetes and was hospitalized because of symptoms at least once. TFC also had diabetes, idk if he ever said which type, but he had a leg amputated due to it.

Joe has unspecified digestion issues. Cleo has an unspecified chronic condition.

and the maybe? category:

Mumbo has very openly described experiencing an eating disorder. however i genuinely cannot tell if he knows that that’s what it is.

Doc has spoken of occasional lingering issues from injuries when he was younger, from his time as a professional basketball player.

Cub took a break once because he had to have multiple surgeries on his arm, gave no further explanation.

these are all the ones off the top of my head. there’s probably more im not remembering or don’t know.

[fanoftheimagines]

With the finale of season 2, I’m going to take a swing at the hornet’s nest. I’d like to take some time to discuss some discourse in the Joel Miller x Reader side of the fandom. Now, I wanted to stay out of it, but not only is the issue incredibly irritating, it’s also devolved into a toxic back-and-forth of miscommunication, mistagging, and anger.

I know it’s a lot to ask these days, but I’d like to address and analyze this recent discourse with a bit of critical thinking. However, there’s a bit of housekeeping I must do first. I want to make it clear that I have an opinion on the matter. I am not coming at this without bias, nor am I attempting to. That being said, I am not judging anyone in this fandom space for their opinions or kinks. To each their own. This is not coming from a place of pearl-clutching purity culture bs – in fact, I’m a proponent of making fandom weird again and don’t like, don’t read. I am also aware that a majority of one side will probably not see this post, as I’ve blocked a lot of people in this fandom over the years. I am simply a fan who wishes to have a mature conversation about this interesting, and complex, piece of discourse. This is also not coming from a place of behavior-policing. You can write what you want, and I will block accordingly.

So, what was the discourse to begin with?

The core of it is quite simple. One side is fans who want less dramatic age gaps, more reader inserts in their 30s+, and less DBF/daddy kink fics. The other side became angry of these complaints and are demanding people ignore these fics. This discourse originated in the PPCU fandom* and was not specific to the Last of Us fandom**, which leads me to believe this problem is purely due to the nature of Joel Miller being played by Pedro Pascal and not an inherent aspect of the Last of Us fandom. Now, I’ll get into the analysis of these arguments in a moment, but first, I’d like to go over some numbers.

To start, I analyzed everything posted from May 1st to May 21st in the Joel Miller x Reader tag. I recorded the type of post (whether it was a fanfiction, a picture, a video, a rec, or a general post), the date, and whether it fit a certain set of categories. The categories were classified by whether it contained the following: age gap (and what that age gap was), DBF (or other related kinks), daddy kink, incest or step dad kink, dark fic, or what I classified as “old man kink” (basically anything that sexualized old men and labeled old man!Joel specifically).

I want to make it clear, I’m purely looking at the amount posted not how popular these fics are. As much as I would’ve liked to analyze both, I am one person with a busy life, and my hypotheses didn’t focus so much on popularity as frequency.

So, what was the data?

There were 1093 total posts within the 21-day span, 678 of which were fanfictions. For reference, there were 309 general posts, 69 pictures, 19 rec posts, and 18 videos. Of the 678 fanfictions, approximately 641 were Joel Miller x Reader fics. 289 met none of the categories and 349 met the categories. Per day, there was an average of 16 fics posted that met the categories verses an average of 13 fics posted that didn’t.

Let’s focus on the categories, namely, what’s the breakdown?

Age Gap: 154

DBF: 80

Dark Fics: 48

Daddy Kink: 31

Old Man Kink: 17

Implied Age Gap: 7

Incest: 7

Step Dad Kink: 2

BFD: 2

HBF: 1

The age gap ranges in these fics, where expressly stated, were the following:

20s to 50s: 16

20s to 60s: 8

20s to 40s: 6

30s to 50s: 6

30s to 60s: 6

Late 20s to 50s: 5

Late 20s to 40s: 4

Late 20s to 60s: 4

20s to 30s: 2

There were approximately 88 unspecified age gap fics.

Now, I don’t pretend to be a wis with numbers, but I am an academic with enough know-how to analyze data. My numbers may be slightly off, but they are approximately accurate.

What can we conclude from these numbers and how does it inform this discourse?

The categories represent certain kinks and tropes that in mainstream fandoms are relatively niche. Certain kinks and tropes can be more common in some fandoms than others, for example, pseudoincest is common in the Umbrella Academy fandom. However, up until recently, these specific kinks/tropes were not as common in the Last of Us fandom. I didn’t get the numbers on this, but some of you might recall that before season 2, these kinks/tropes were not a common occurrence.

Now though? Over the 21 days I looked at, there were more fanfictions posted that fit into these categories than didn’t. Not only that, these fanfictions were posted with slightly more frequency on average per day. It’s easy to see why some fans feel these kinks/tropes are overdone and annoying, even people who enjoy these tropes. I’d argue the amount and frequency of these fics has caused a bit of fatigue.

Given the nature of Joel’s character, it is also easy to see why these tropes/kinks make people uncomfortable. A large and distinctive part of Joel’s character is his relationships with his daughters and how he pseudo adopts any young woman comes across. This is evident with Sarah and Ellie, but also with Dina (S2E1-2) and Abby (S2E2). Being a father defines Joel’s character. He attempted suicide because he is a father who lost his daughter and couldn’t live without her. He kills an entire hospital of people because he is a father, because Ellie became his daughter and he loves her just as he loves Sarah. His death was due to his actions protecting his daughter, and arguably because he saved Abby from the horde, because she’s close to Ellie’s age.

As I mentioned before, certain kinks and tropes can be more common in some fandoms than others. The themes in their source materials often determine what kinks and tropes develop in fandoms. They determine what kinks might be considered niche in the space. For example, pseudoincest is not considered niche in the Umbrella Academy fandom. In the case of Joel Miller, as previously discussed, the themes do not really lend themselves to DBF, daddy kink, and age gaps. The Last of Us has a focus on familial relationships, not romantic relationships. X Reader tends to lean heavily into romantic relationships, and so it is not surprising that Joel Miller x Reader is popular. However, what is surprising is how common these kinks have become even though the themes of the story do no necessarily lend itself to them. On top of that, I would argue that DBF is a niche kink in the general sense, as my friend – who is into fandom and “very into freak shit” (her words) has never heard of it until we talked about it.

Now, again, I’m not kink-shaming the people who write these. I believe the majority of them are likely young and writing reader inserts close to their own age. Plus, I am a huge proponent of writing what you want, and I want to be so clear that I am not saying you can’t write these types of fics, but you can’t deny that they are completely out of character for Joel Miller and don’t fit the narrative of the story. So, I can’t help but wonder why? I think the answer lies in the fact that he’s played by Pedro Pascal. The PPCU fandom* is full of smut writers who often veer into kinky and dark areas of smut. They are not necessarily focused on characters or stories, but their attraction to Pedro Pascal. It is unsurprising this translates to Joel in such an outstanding way.

So, I guess the real question is how do we as a fandom resolve all this? In a perfect world, these fics would all be explicitly tagged and people who don’t want to see them can block the writers or tags, and both parties could live peacefully in their own fandom bubbles. But these fics aren’t properly tagged all the time, nor are they always clear in the headings. The toxic attacks from both sides only makes it worse. It’s important to remember that fandom is supposed to be fun, and its community. We don’t have to like each other, or all the fanfictions written in this fandom, but we shouldn’t be attacking each other or making this space a toxic hellhole. But, tbh, that feels like asking too much.

*This is not a fandom, but a stan-dom, which is different and oftentimes more toxic. As evident here.

**I am not apart of the PPCU stan-dom, but I am apart of the Last of Us fandom, so my opinion is coming from that perspective.

EDIT: I would like to thank @letsgobarbs for filling me in on the finer details of the drama in the PPCU 'fandom' regarding the whole of this matter. And to them and @almostempty for touching on the racial overtones of DBF/Age gap fics - I didn't feel it my place to touch on the topic but it's a very important (if not one of the most important) aspect of the conversation.

[fawnsuga]

⠀⠀ ♥︎̼̻⏝ིི᭨ ྀ ⠀ ⠀ witnesses of the disturbing behavior of ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ nikolas cruz  ⠀ ⠀ ˚◌ ✧ ⠀ ⠀

Numerous individuals across various platforms were aware of Nikolas Cruz's concerning behavior prior to the MSDHS shooting but failed to report it. In some cases, information was reported; however, it went unaddressed by the recipients of those reports. Sources of awareness ranged from social media posts to personal observations and shared information.

At least 30 individuals with knowledge of Cruz's troubling behavior before the shooting were identified; this does not constitute a comprehensive list. The following outlines the categories of unreported behaviors known to others prior to the incident:

Animal Cruelty/Killing: 7 instances

Possession of Knives/Bullets/Firearms: 19 instances

Hateful Statements Toward Individuals or Groups: 8 instances

Expressions of Desire to Harm or Kill: 11 instances

Specific Threat to Shoot at School: 3 instances

The subsequent slides provide examples of Cruz's troubling behavior prior to the MSDHS shooting. While some incidents have known timeframes, others remain unspecified or fall within date ranges. Although certain information may not have been actionable, the overall trend indicates an escalation in Cruz's behavior over time. It is evident that increased reporting of concerning observations is essential.

The following summaries are derived from interviews with individuals who were aware of Cruz's troubling behavior. This section highlights accounts from those who did not report their observations until after the MSDHS shooting. For privacy reasons, the individuals are not identified by name in this presentation.

Witness: Student at MSD on the Day of the ShootingSummary: This witness, who was not friends with Cruz, had declined an invitation to Cruz's home prior to the shooting. On the day of the incident, he evacuated the school and went to a nearby Walmart, where he encountered Cruz. The witness questioned Cruz's presence, believing he had been expelled. Cruz denied this, stating he had been reinstated, and the witness felt no reason to doubt him at that time. During the interview, the student revealed that there were speculations among peers that Cruz might be a potential shooter.

The student described Cruz as socially awkward, noting his inappropriate jokes about Jewish people, Nazis, and Hitler, including statements like, "I wish all the Jews were dead." He observed Cruz displaying racist behavior towards African-Americans and recalled instances where Cruz showed him knives and bullets he had brought to school. The student did not report these concerns to any school personnel, although he expressed reluctance to engage with Cruz and recounted memories of Cruz potentially showing a firearm at school. He remarked that Cruz would bring deceased animals to school, displaying them with pride, and drew swastikas on desks. In a follow-up statement, he conveyed concerns regarding Cruz's firearm possession.

Witness: Bank EmployeeSummary: This witness, a bank employee, interacted with Lynda Cruz regularly over approximately eight years. She reported that Lynda was adamant about not using online banking due to fears that her sons might damage the house in her absence. The employee overheard numerous threatening conversations between Nikolas and Lynda, including threats to harm her and burn down their home. Lynda expressed fear for her safety and that of her sons, indicating that if anything happened to her, it would be Nikolas's doing.

The bank employee also noted Lynda's concerns about Nikolas's behavior, including his internet activity and threats regarding school. Lynda described Nikolas as manipulative, suggesting he played on people's perceptions of him to avoid accountability for his actions. Despite witnessing Lynda's distress, the bank employee did not report any of this information until after the shooting.

Witness: Employee at Dollar Tree with Nikolas CruzSummary: This witness, a cashier at Dollar Tree, described an encounter involving Cruz when her mother visited the store. Cruz made a threatening remark about shooting up Stoneman Douglas during a conversation with her mother, which made the witness uncomfortable. This incident was not reported to law enforcement until after the shooting, despite the witness's awareness of Cruz's expulsion due to a prior weapon incident.

Witness: Student at MSD on the Day of the ShootingSummary: This witness, who had known Cruz through a mutual friend, recounted Cruz's abusive behavior in previous relationships and his interest in harming animals. Although she had heard rumors about Cruz bringing weapons to school, she did not directly witness this behavior. She also reported receiving threats from Cruz via social media, which were not reported to authorities until after the shooting.

Witness: Student at MSDSummary: This witness recalled interactions with Cruz during the 2016-2017 school year, where Cruz exhibited disturbing behavior, including researching dangerous topics and making inappropriate comments about past tragedies.

Witness: Student at MSDSummary: This witness reported that Cruz shared graphic images of decapitated animals and made threats about school violence. This information was not reported until after the MSD shooting.

for @sealxruz

[revenant-coining]

Shapeshiftsen

(pt: Shapeshiftsen /end pt)

Shapeshiftsen; a dimensen term connected to shapeshifting and/or shapeshifters/being a shapeshifter!

points; 7 (5 (base) +2 (non-gender))

etymology; shapeshift, sen

coinfight attack for @voidcoining!

tagging; @radiomogai, @rescanwriter, & @coinfight

[legallybrunettedotcom]

"Even during the course of the war, the Balkan stereotype was not immutable. Mechthild Golczewski’s analysis of German and Austrian war accounts between 1912 and 1918 shows a differentiated treatment of the separate Balkan nations in the absence of a clear-cut notion of what Balkan actually represented. Insofar as the category was utilized to denote general regional characteristics (e.g., hospitality, clichés about peasants and mountaineers, people close to nature, backwardness, uncleanniness, and so on), it was so vague and unspecified that it could be applied to people outside the Balkan region. Whenever employed, its persuasive power was based on its haziness in combination with an emotive component. Moreover, it was used alongside other generalizing catchwords, of which “Oriental” was most often employed, to stand for filth, passivity, unreliability, misogyny, propensity for intrigue, insincerity, opportunism, laziness, superstitiousness, lethargy, sluggishness, inefficiency, incompetent bureaucracy. “Balkan,” while overlapping with “Oriental,” had additional characteristics as cruelty, boorishness, instability, and unpredictability. Both categories were used against the concept of Europe symbolizing cleanliness, order, self-control, strength of character, sense of law, justice, efficient administration, in a word, 'the culturally higher stage of development which also ennobles human behavior.' Yet, although one can readily agree that the notion 'Balkan' was fuzzy enough to denote a specific regional characterization, there was no doubt that the emotive component to which writers were resorting or appealing intuitively rested on a by-then internalized but not yet clearly articulated stereotype. Only the completely ignorant could plead complete innocence, like the American woman who, when referring to Dalmatia, called it 'the place where the dogs come from.'

Imagining the Balkans by Maria Todorova

[howlsofbloodhounds]

wait, im kinda confused now, doesn't osdd also develop from a trauma in childhood? Or am i missing something??

OSDD is not just the “plural disorder.” OSDD-1, the ones with alters and systems, does form from childhood trauma. OSDD is diagnosed when someone shows signs of a dissociative disorder, but does not meet criteria for an already existing dissociative disorder.

The main dissociative disorders are Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), Dissociative Amnesia, and Derealization Depersonalization Disorder (DPDR).

If one does not meet the criteria for those but shows signs of a dissociative disorder that significantly impacts their life and functioning, they can be diagnosed with OSDD; and usually the person will be given a reason as to why they were diagnosed with it, but not something else.

There’s technically 4 “types” of OSDD, but i remember that someone will not be diagnosed with “OSDD-1” or “OSDD-2.”

I feel it also important to mention that, according to the wiki, these are not actually types; they’re just examples of presentations that can be experienced or observed in those diagnosed with OSDD. There could be more and different examples of presentations possible with OSDD.

It is just all OSDD, and a reason will be specified. Taken directly from the wiki, “An example would be specifying "OSDD (dissociative trance)".”

Someone who shows signs of a dissociative disorder but doesn’t mean criteria for the ones above, and isn’t given a reason why, can be diagnosed with Unspecified Dissociative Disorder or UDD.

These guys can also potentially have alters and systems and the like, they just aren’t diagnosed with DID or OSDD either because of a lack of meeting criteria somehow, or more likely, because there’s a lack of sufficient time. Possibly other reasons as well.

Taken from the Wiki, these are the 4 descriptions of 4 example presentations that can be present in the “catch all” diagnosis of OSDD;

“Chronic and recurrent syndromes of mixed dissociative symptoms:

The DSM states, "This category includes identity disturbance associated with less-than-marked discontinuities in sense of self and agency, or alterations of identity or episodes of possession in an individual who reports no dissociative amnesia".

The ICD-11 describes this presentation as "Partial dissociative identity disorder".

(This is the one commonly referred to as OSDD-1/OSDD1, and OSDD-1A and OSDD-1B. Systems and alters, like DID, but not DID because they fail to meet a specific criteria to be diagnosed with DID. OSDD-1A and OSDD-1B are also community terms im sure, someone will not be diagnosed with these letters or terms or numbers.)

Identity disturbance due to prolonged and intense coercive persuasion:

The DSM gives the examples of "brainwashing, thought reform, programming, indoctrination while captive, torture, long-term political imprisonment, recruitment by sects/cults or by terror organizations." People with this presentation, as a result, may experience distressing changes to and/or questioning of their identity.

(This one is commonly called OSDD-2. A very well known but fictional example of this is the Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes from the MCU and Peeta Mellark from the Hunger Games series, although neither are officially or canonically diagnosed.)

Acute dissociative reactions to stressful events:

This category is used for acute dissociative episodes which may last anywhere from a few hours to weeks, but typically less than a month. The dissociative conditions are characterised by "constriction of consciousness", including "depersonalization; derealization; perceptual disturbances (e.g., time slowing, macropsia); micro-amnesias; transient stupor; and/or alterations in sensory-motor functioning (e.g., analgesia, paralysis)."

(OSDD-3.)

Dissociative Trance:

This category represents a dissociative trance; "an acute narrowing or complete loss of awareness of immediate surroundings that manifests as profound unresponsiveness or insensitivity to environmental stimuli." The DSM specifies that "The dissociative trance is not a normal part of a broadly accepted collective cultural or religious practice".

In the ICD-11, this condition warrants a separate diagnosis of Trance disorder.”

(OSDD-4.)

So all in all, OSDD is simply a “catch all” diagnosis. Those diagnosed with it can have prolonged, childhood trauma—and those diagnosed with the first example presentation of OSDD typically and often do—but experiencing prolonged, childhood trauma is not a requirement or required thing to be diagnosed with OSDD.

“OSDD-2” is often even something that’s diagnosed due to extensive trauma, abuse, and manipulation experienced later in life as teenagers, young adults, adults, or even elderly.

One can experience this type of abuse as a child as well of course, but it’s not childhood specific.

Those who undergo the same type of abuse and trauma that those with “OSDD-2” (aka OSDD (Identity disturbance due to prolonged and intense coercive persuasion)) do, can instead be diagnosed with DID or “OSDD-1” (aka OSDD (Chronic and recurrent syndromes of mixed dissociative symptoms)) if they’re a system (because im pretty sure someone will not be diagnosed with two dissociative disorders, even if their experiences and symptoms match up or overlap with two), and not everyone who undergoes the abuse and trauma that those with OSDD-2 do will be diagnosed with OSDD-2 or any type of dissociative disorder.

For example, not every survivor of human trafficking or other forms of organized abuse develops a dissociative disorder or is diagnosed with OSDD-2, even if they experience some dissociative symptoms (likely as coping mechanisms, as opposed to the coercive and external, induced nature of dissociation in OSDD-2) and likely have PTSD/C-PTSD symptoms. Just the same as not every cult survivor is diagnosed with OSDD-2.

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

A Change of Heart

There have been but two occasions in my long and happy association with Mr Sherlock Holmes when we had a row so spectacular that it threatened to terminate our friendship. The first one occurred in April 1894 under circumstances which I put to paper elsewhere. The second time was roughly ten years later, when Holmes’s health once again failed him dramatically and it became apparent that, if he valued his life at all, some drastic changes would be necessary. Holmes did not see it that way, however.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandoms: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle, Sherlock Holmes (1984 TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson

Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson

Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Unspecified Heart condition, Aging, Arguing, Self-Worth Issues, they actually talk about feelings omg, Queerplatonic Relationships, Friendship, Trust, Crying, John Watson Takes Care of Sherlock Holmes, Retirement, Growing Old Together, I cannot believe they are getting platonically married AGAIN for god’s sake I have no say in this, they love each other so much it makes me physically weak

[glitter-stained]

I have no medical knowledge but JT had me googling the five levels of consciousness I’m like what is this some specific form of hypoactive delirium JT has going on like what is thissss is this based off the movie Awakenings

Hell yeah! I love this ask so much

Let's talk about catatonia

Could Jason's TBI have given him catatonia?

Okay so catatonia is a syndrome that can be caused by either an underlying mental disorder (best known causes are schizophrenia and some forms of depression) or another medical affection (this is what the characters in The Awakenings have!)

I'm basing myself on the DSM-5 revised text here because it's my favourite classification (as shown by the fact I talk shit about it all the time). So, in Lost Days, Talia's hypothesis for Jason appears to be catatonia caused by another medical affection, this affection being caused by the brain damage he sustained. Because this hasn't been proven (i am, btw, very intrigued: does the LOA have MRIs? We know they interrogated the medical professionals who worked on him during his coma, but we don't have any info on that... What do the images say!!! I wanna know!!! And did he have an EEG? 😭😭😭 I wish we had these images... Alas.)

Anyway, so because the medical cause isn't confirmed, the actual diagnosis would be "unspecified catatonia" but that's more of a "eh, can't know for sure" diagnosis so it's not really important.

So I asked the one of my teachers who sees a lot of children and teenagers with TBIs, and he told me that while he couldn't tell me this didn't exist, he had never seen a patient develop catatonia as a result of a TBI. Because my personal hypothesis is a dissociative episode, I also asked my teacher who specialises in trauma if it was possible for dissociation to induce catatonia... He confessed that he wasn't sure what catatonia was and thought it was an outdated category people didn't use anymore and then when I was starting to detail the symptoms he kinda ran away from me in a pretty comical manner... (I'm not kidding, it was very funny). So, safe to say that this man (otherwise a really good teacher, with a great and in-depth understanding of trauma and the psychopathology around it) hasn't seen many catatonic patients lmao. So, that makes catatonia relatively improbable in terms of etiology, but nowhere in the dsm does it say that it's impossible for a tbi or dissociation to induce it, so let's check!!!

[antisocialsharky]

You Should Know About Conduct Disorder

Conduct disorder (CD), sometimes also referred to as dissocial disorder, is a condition, that between 2-10% of people are diagnosed with, tho the actual number of people experiencing enough symptoms to meet criteria may be higher.

It is grouped under "Disruptive, Impulse-Control and Conduct Disorders" in the DSM-5 alongside oppositional defiant disorder (ODD), intermittent explosive disorder (IED) pyromania, kleptomania, otherwise specified & unspecified "..." disorder and antisocial personality disorder (which is grouped here and under personality disorders).

All of these conditions involve some sort of problem in the self control of emotions and/or behavior and are differentiated from other emotional/behavioral regulation problems, by including a violation of the rights of others and/or bringing the individual into significant conflict with societal norms or authority figures.

Conduct disorder has the following criteria points (quoted):

A. A repetitive and persistent pattern of behavior in which the basic rights of others or major age-appropriate societal norms or rules are violated, as manifested by the presence of at least three of the following 15 criteria in the past 12 months from any of the categories below, with at least one criterion present in the past 6 months:

■ Category: Aggression to People and Animals

1. Often bullies, threatens, or intimidates others.

2. Often initiates physical fights.

3. Has used a weapon that can cause serious physical harm to others (e.g., a bat, brick, broken bottle, knife, gun).

4. Has been physically cruel to people.

5. Has been physically cruel to animals.

6. Has stolen while confronting a victim (e.g., mugging, purse snatching, extortion, armed robbery).

7. Has forced someone into sexual activity.

■ Category: Destruction of Property

8. Has deliberately engaged in fire setting with the intention of causing serious damage.

9. Has deliberately destroyed others’ property (other than by fire setting).

■ Category: Deceitfulness or Theft

10. Has broken into someone else’s house, building, or car.

11. Often lies to obtain goods or favors or to avoid obligations (i.e., “cons” others).

12. Has stolen items of nontrivial value without confronting a victim (e.g., shoplifting, but without breaking and entering; forgery).

■ Category: Serious Violation of Rules

13. Often stays out at night despite parental prohibitions, beginning before age 13 years.

14. Has run away from home overnight at least twice while living in the parental or parental surrogate home, or once without returning for a lengthy period.

15. Is often truant from school, beginning before age 13 years.

B. The disturbance in behavior causes clinically significant impairment in social, academic, or occupational functioning.

C. If the individual is age 18 years or older, criteria are not met for antisocial personality disorder

Specify whether:

• Childhood-onset type: Individuals show at least one symptom characteristic of conduct disorder prior to age 10 years.

• Adolescent-onset type: Individuals show no symptom characteristic of conduct disorder prior to age 10 years.

• Unspecified onset: Criteria for a diagnosis of conduct disorder are met, but there is not enough information available to determine whether the onset of the first symptom was before or after age 10 years.

Specify if: With limited prosocial emotions => To qualify for this specifier, an individual must have displayed at least two of the following characteristics persistently over at least 12 months and in multiple relationships and settings. These characteristics reflect the individual’s typical pattern of interpersonal and emotional functioning over this period and not just occasional occurrences in some situations. Thus, to assess the criteria for the specifier, multiple information sources are necessary. In addition to the individual’s self-report, it is necessary to consider reports by others who have known the individual for extended periods of time (e.g., parents, teachers, co-workers, extended family members, peers):

● Lack of remorse or guilt: Does not feel bad or guilty when he or she does something wrong (exclude remorse when expressed only when caught and/or facing punishment). The individual shows a general lack of concern about the negative consequences of his or her actions. For example, the individual is not remorseful after hurting someone or does not care about the consequences of breaking rules.

● Callous—lack of empathy: Disregards and is unconcerned about the feelings of others. The individual is described as cold and uncaring. The person appears more concerned about the effects of his or her actions on himself or herself, rather than their effects on others, even when they result in substantial harm to others.

● Unconcerned about performance: Does not show concern about poor/problematic performance at school, at work, or in other important activities. The individual does not put forth the effort necessary to perform well, even when expectations are clear, and typically blames others for his or her poor performance.

● Shallow or deficient affect: Does not express feelings or show emotions to others, except in ways that seem shallow, insincere, or superficial (e.g., actions contradict the emotion displayed; can turn emotions “on” or “off" quickly) or when emotional expressions are used for gain (e.g., emotions displayed to manipulate or intimidate)

Specify current severity:

• Mild: Few if any conduct problems in excess of those required to make the diagnosis are present, and conduct problems cause relatively minor harm to others (e.g., lying, truancy, staying out after dark without permission, other rule breaking).

• Moderate: The number of conduct problems and the effect on others are intermediate between those specified in “mild” and those in “severe” (e.g., stealing without confronting a victim, vandalism).

• Severe: Many conduct problems in excess of those required to make the diagnosis are present, or conduct problems cause considerable harm to others (e.g., forced sex, physical cruelty, use of a weapon, stealing while confronting a victim, breaking and entering).

The associated features section additionally notes: "Especially in ambiguous situations, aggressive individuals with conduct disorder frequently misperceive the intentions of others as more hostile and threatening than is the case and respond with aggression that they then feel is reasonable and justified. Personality features of trait negative emotionality and poor self-control, including poor frustration tolerance, irritability, temper outbursts, suspiciousness, insensitivity to punishment, thrill seeking, and recklessness, frequently co-occur with conduct disorder. Substance misuse is often an associated feature, particularly in adolescent females. Suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, and completed suicide occur at a higher than expected rate in individuals with conduct disorder"

Other mentioned info:

• CD onset after age 16 is rare

• childhood onset CD often (but not always) has the precursor ODD (aka you qualify for ODD before you qualify for CD)

• in a majority of cases the disorder remits by adulthood

• risk factors include genetics, environmental, etc.

Now, thats a lot of information and conduct disorder, as well as the other conditions in the group, are also heavily debated within both the psychological field and online spaces, so it can be a bit hard to really understand whats going on here!

Let me try to explain the condition to you with the help of my own experience, as I was verbally diagnosed with "dissocial disorder" at the age of 15! I do have to mention though, that my diagnostic assessment already included an ASPD specific questionaire and heavily focused on those symptoms as I already met all seven of them and my psych used both "dissocial disorder" and "dissocial personality disorder" to refer to what I have! Therefore your experience with an assessment may look very different!

Its important to note, that not every person with conduct disorder goes on to develop ASPD! There is estimates that mention that 25% of girls and 40% of boys with CD go on to develop ASPD, but the numbers differ depending on who you ask! For some the disorder remits and some receive other follow up diagnoses, or may simply stick with CD.

Of the above mentioned criteria list, I met the bullying/threatening (1), lying (11) and stealing (12) criteria with a sort of frequency, but also showed a few cases of physical fights (2), property damage (9) and skipping school (14). I suppose if you count randomly slapping others cus I thought it was fun or goading them into injuring themselves, as evidence for physical cruelty (4) I also met that a little, but I am not sure whether it counts.

I suspect that I might qualify for childhood onset CD, as I already stole in kindergarden (age 3-6) and elementary school (age 6-10) and was also very known for being aggressive, resisting authority/being defiant, insulting others, lying if it suited me, putting others in bad situations for my own amusement and bullying a teacher of mine at that age.

I definitely presented with limited prosocial emotions and showed all four hallmarks: lack of remorse/guilt, callous lack of empathy, being unconcerned about performance (to the point of having to repeat a year) and shallow/deficient emotions.

In addition to that, there were a few other things, that were counted towards my CD diagnosis (or rather used as further evidence), namely: an overall aggressive response being my first instinct, trying to get people online to kill themselves, being very obsessed with violence overall and having frequent fantasies surrounding it, being very impulsive & reckless & irresponsible in my decision making, methodically breaking school rules, as well as having concrete plans to commit a school shooting and running an online blog promoting it and believing I was correct to do these things in all cases.

Despite having shown a lot of obvious externalized behavior and breaking a few actual laws, I have not had any contact with the police thus far! Some of the mildness of my behaviors, is due to the fact, that I gew up learning, that avoiding punishment and being sneaky and careful with the way I break rules, is more benefitial in the long run, as my brother, who was very much not careful, frequently got reprimanded/punished and served as a prime example for how I would not be able to thrive in peace if I was like him.

The individual presentation of conduct disorder will differ depending on a lot of factors and not everyone presents severely! A lot of cases are simply classed as "kids being kids", "teenagers being hormonal" or "a few bad influences causing it", thus leading to those individuals falling under the radar.

Whether or not a child acts out in a certain environment will heavily depend on: what types of acting out they know they can get away with, how desensitized they are to punishment, how capable they are of worming their way out of responsibility, how much they can control their own behavior & emotions, what they have observed their parents/friends doing, what bullies/relatives have done to them, what resources they have available, how much respect they have for certain people, etc.

The CD criteria mentions a few common behaviors, but technically any sort of crime and anything that is regularely done that causes harm to others, should count as possible evidence towards CD. Its difficult to give examples here, as the frequency, consequences and presentation over a variety of contexts are very important in addition to the nature of the behavior itself.

What does end up being evidence and whether or not you will meet criteria/will meet certain symptoms, very much depends on the psychologist you're working with, what culture you live in and whether or not your professional has a certain bias. The paper "Evidence based assessment of DSM-5 Disruptive, Impulse Control and Conduct disorders" by Jeffrey D. Burke et al. goes into those biases, differentiates the conditions and also delivers a list of assessments that can be used to diagnose them.

To give you another two possible presentations, I'll tell you about two other CD cases that I personally know! Prior to age 12 (afaik) child 1 has met the criteria points for: forcing someone into sexual activity (7), destroyed property (9), lied (11), stolen (12), stayed out at night (13), skipped school (15) at the very least (I am not aware of whether they meet the rest!). They also meet all four hallmarks of limited prosocial emotions and went into treatment around the age of 12/13 if I remember correctly. Their sister now also presents with evidence of CD primarily: staying out (13), lying (11), stealing (12), animal cruelty (5) and cruelty to people (4) + aggression outbursts at the very least. => Presentation heavily depends on the person!

When it comes to treatment/recovery, the DSM-5 mentions that remission in cases that have childhood onset is rarer than remission in adolescent onset cases, which makes sense, as the behavior is much more ingrained and a lot of important developmental moments & important relationships likely went wrong!

It is however not impossible to achieve remission before the child/teen hits adulthood, thus preventing that the child/teen meets criteria for diagnoses like personality disorders (and even in those remission can be achieved).

In order to achieve this, clinicians have to work a lot on how they treat & perceive children with CD & adjacent conditions and may benefit from coming up with measures of identifying behavioral & emotional problems earlier, in order to offer assistance before the pattern fully builds itself.

The category of "Disruptive, Impulse Control and Conduct Disorders" and related concepts also receive different kinds of criticism from both professionals and mental health communities:

• some professionals question why ASPD is the only diagnosis that requires you to meet evidence for CD, when not even every person with CD goes on to meet ASPD => thus they wonder why other conditions do not require it or why ASPD specifically does. theres at least one paper on it that discusses this!

• many people criticize that ODD can be applied to people who simply question bigoted/mean teachers, people with PDA profiles, etc. and that IED simply pathologizes the emotional expression of anger, as abnormal/inappropiate and could as an example be falsly applied to people who are actually having autistic meltdowns.

• some people do not support CD officially only being categorized by behavior and only including things that are basically criminal already (with little exception). theres people who believe impulsivity, the breaking of school rules, verbal aggression that isnt necessarily threats/bullying, explicit violent thoughts and such should be included in the criteria.

first posted on my instagram (same @)

(insta caption includes a note to pls not copy any of my behaviors or think that I am trying to set an example as to how you should behave. thats not the case. just yk...for the record, cus this is the internet)