#i will try to be more active here though!!

[blueberryfics]

jjk headcanons: love languages

Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Shoko Ieiri, Choso Kamo, Takuma Ino, Toji Fushiguro, Yuki Tsukumo, Ryomen Sukuna

gn!reader

CONTAINS: pure fluff

My blog is 18+. Minors please DNI!

a/n: wait did I make Sukuna’s actually sweet?? I usually write him as comically evil bc it makes me laugh, but he’s surprisingly soft here :’)

Satoru Gojo

☆ All of them… but mainly words of affirmation

☆ He’ll accept any form of affection you give him, but a simple compliment will do the most for him

☆ He often expresses his love through gift-giving though, as well as with words

☆ He loves loudly, so expect dramatic declarations and extravagant gifts from him

Suguru Geto

☆ Physical touch

☆ Honestly he usually hates when other people touch him, but when it’s someone like you who he truly trusts, he adores it

☆ Each time you rub his back or play with his hair, it repairs a bit of his fractured soul (he might cry, although he’ll try really hard not to)

Kento Nanami

☆ Acts of service

☆ He’s used to taking on burdens and cleaning up other people’s messes, so when you do anything to make things easier on him, it means the absolute world to him

☆ He shows his love to you through acts of service as well. You’ll never have to peel your own orange again as long as he’s around

Shoko Ieiri

☆ Gifts

☆ Not in a materialistic way, though. She just likes knowing that you’re thinking of her when she’s not around

☆ Like if you go out to a cafe with your friends and bring her back a drink, she’ll melt

☆ Even something as simple as giving her a flower you picked from the side of the road will make her heart do backflips

Choso Kamo

☆ Quality time

☆ He doesn’t require anything from you other than your presence

☆ Now that he has a human lifespan, his time is precious to him, and he wants nothing more than to spend it with you

☆ This can lead to him being clingy (it’s cute though, let’s be real); any activity he can think of doing, he feels that it would be better with you by his side

Takuma Ino

☆ Words of affirmation

☆ He just wants to be told he’s doing a good job, and he doesn’t hear it enough from others, so when you say it it means even more

☆ As much as he craves affirmation, though, he doesn’t know how to handle it when he actually receives it; he’ll either completely short-circuit or turn it into a joke

Toji Fushiguro

☆ Quality time

☆ He’s never been good at expressing his feelings with words, but he shows you how much he loves you with the way he’ll drop everything just to see you

☆ If he’s away for work and you tell him how much you miss him, he probably won’t say it back. Secretly, though, the fact that you want to spend time with him means more to him than you’ll ever know

Yuki Tsukumo

☆ Acts of service

☆ If you offer to do something for her, she’ll fall even more hopelessly in love with you

☆ This is how she expresses her love to you too

☆ By the time you even realize you have a flat tire, she’s already changing it for you

Ryomen Sukuna

☆ Physical touch

☆ You don’t flinch when he touches you, nor do you run from him. He’s used to sparking fear in everyone around him, so the fact that he elicits something different in you, something tender, softens his hard exterior just a bit

☆ You don’t recoil from him like the monster he is. You handle him like he’s delicate and beautiful, and it almost makes him want to be a little more of those things just for you

[not-freyja]

Afterwards

Today, the 30th of May, 2025, marks exactly one year since I published the final chapter of This is an Adjuration. In recognition of this strange anniversary, I would, my dear, dear class, like to tell you another story.

Called many things—The Adjuration, "Freyja's fic," and The Damn Fic—This is an Adjuration is a 300k word beast of a story about grief and inevitably, yes, but mostly about love. About choosing to love, as a radical act of defiance, no matter the cost. I can, and will, talk about this book all day.

But I'm not here to do that. I'm not here to talk about the story.

Instead, today, one year since its completion, I have gotten out my keyboard to talk about writing it.

I have always been a story teller. A childhood spent inventing worlds and plots to pass the time in the woods. Scary stories around campfires. And when I was twelve, I took my first crack at writing a novel.

It wasn't very good.

But that feeling, that indescribable feeling of having written—it was the best feeling in the entire world.

So, I chased it.

I wrote everything, everything that I could. I wrote poetry, short stories, music. I attacked each piece of English homework with the tenacity of a rabid dog. I started writing fanfiction.

And then, one day, I got brave enough to start posting the fanfiction. To take the piece of my heart that I had carved out with a fountain pen and place it in the digital commons for others to read.

(It still wasn't very good.)

And I want you to know, I do not mean that as an insult to my younger self. They were doing the best that they could, and getting better at it day by day. But the work that I was writing as a middle schooler did, in fact, read like it was written by a middle schooler.

The comment section responded in kind. The internet can be a cruel place. But that didn't stop me.

Fast forwarding, I grow up. Life was what life is. Big and beautiful and painful and messy and—

For the sake of my dignity, I will skip the details; but by 2019, I was… not okay. More than not okay—I was bad. Very bad. In fact, I was actively suicidal.

I kept writing, though. Kept telling stories. Kept trying to make sense of the world through the eyes of people that don't quite exist. I don’t know why, not really. Maybe it was because reality was gentler, easier to swallow, through eyes other than my own. Regardless of why, I kept at it, a compulsion that seemed as inevitable as the dawn.

The world turns, and Freyja writes.

And I kept living.

More bad things happened. Some small, some life changing. And so much joy, and beauty, though it was difficult to see it at the time. But then the worst thing—out of all the terrible things I will keep to myself—happened:

I stopped writing.

I put the pen down. More than that, I wanted the pen gone. Broken. De-nibbed. I tore through my ao3, deleting work after work. I chucked notebooks in the fire. In hindsight, it was madness, but at the time the logic was painfully, brutally simple: my words were me, and I wanted me gone. I hated myself, and everything I touched. I bathed myself in shame, and rage, and I thought poison to be a shield against the weight of the world.

…It was a bad time.

Fast forwarding again. It's 2023, and Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom comes out. I play it, of course—LOZ has been a longtime love of mine. I could, and have, written entire essays on that game and its merits (and faults) but… what matters is that I felt it, that old love of storytelling, again. That feeling—it came back to me, playing that game. That old familiar feeling of a story welling itself up inside of my chest and begging to be let out.

I decided to be brave. I decided to pick the pen back up.

First, I wrote the ending, something sorrowful and tragic and final: the exact feeling inside of my own heart.

Then I wrote the prologue, that first step through a one way door for Link.

And I wrote, though I did not know it at the time, that first step for me as well.

See, what you have to understand about me, class, is that I get a bit too attached to fictional characters. I know that they aren't real, that they are constructed vessels for abstract ideas, but even so, I get attached. Very attached.

So with one hell of a story to tell about my dear friend Link, I had a goal. Simple, achievable, and brutal. I would tell his story, and then I would die.

Yeah… surprise, the damn fic started out as a very long-form suicide note. Started out, I say, because it didn't stay that way.

Link—Legend, rather—and I were bound together. He and I stumble into the narrative in the depths of depression and suicidal ideation, the only thing keeping him alive is the fact that he has too many responsibilities to die. The narrative (the act of writing it) gives both of us one more mark of accountability.

Legend is convinced that he will die on this quest. I am certain I will after it. Neither of us had any idea how wrong we were.

In the first chapter, the prologue, I sent us (Link and I) on a quest. His was to save himself. Mine was—I thought—to tell a story. There was a non zero chance that we both failed. The odds were stacked against poor Rulie, and the Chain entire. I hadn't written in years.

In the second chapter, I dragged Legend out of retirement. But more importantly, I dragged myself out of retirement. Adding a second chapter felt like a promise. A commitment. This wasn't just a few words slapped together anymore, this was a narrative.

And the narrative continued.

Chapter after chapter, I shouted into the void in a combined caterwaul of Link's struggle and my own. There were times it grew difficult to write. Arcs and scenes and deaths came that were a true struggle to write, technically, and emotionally. As I said, Link is, to me, a very dear friend. Hurting him so brought me no pleasure (though some of the class' reactions did spark joy—back to that later).

But the narrative continued.

There were days where I was the problem. Where the darkness in my own mind had claws. Where sharp objects and chemical induced oblivion sang like a siren. Life was too much, and too little, and I didn't want to be here anymore. On those days, I wrote twice as fast.

And the narrative continued.

Humans tell stories, you know? It's one of the things that makes us human in the first place: that driving need to weave tales, to search for metaphor and truth in fabricated reality. A tradition that stretches back to the first campfire, the first story.

The story teller talks, and the audience listens, huddled up together in the dark.

That was the image in my mind, as I posted chapter after chapter. I sat before a campfire, telling a story to myself, staring into the flame for fear of what could be waiting in the darkness.

And slowly, people came to sit next to me. They came in the form of a familiar username, leaving a comment after an update for the fifth chapter in a row. Questions. Debates between readers about theories. Drawn out conversation in the comments, breaks in the narration spent not with my own thoughts, but with the audience. You were there. Link and I were no longer alone.

Here, the pressure increased manifold. For adjuration is a word that means two things, and one of those things is a promise, solemn vow. The other is a plea, an earnest urging. I promised Link that I would finish his story, no matter what. I begged him not to leave me while I did. Link and I had a deal, an understanding even, writ large across the story in entire. That this—this work of fiction—is an adjuration.

And then there you were, class. And our adjuration expanded to hold you. "Don't abandon the story," you pleaded.

"I won't. I couldn't," I promised.

The adjuration went the other way, too. "Stay with me. Trust me. Come with Link and I to the end," I begged you.

"We're here. We're listening. Around the fire," you vowed.

And we all kept our promises, didn't we?

The narrative continued.

Somehow, readers became friends. Some of them became family. What was a collection of anonymous usernames are now—somehow—the people I love most.

I will not go on to highlight any specific person, any particular relationship. If I were to begin, I would not stop, and this would become a very long afterword. (Yeah, yeah "15 chapters," I know.) But if you are sitting here, wondering if I am talking about you when I speak of my friends that I made on ao-fucking-3… yes. Yes, I am.

I shouted into the void, and you called back.

Through over three hundred thousand words, eighty six chapters, and ten months, we saw the story through to the end. Link's journey was over. And as for me, well… I had finished telling the story. The metaphorical campfire banked low.

I looked up, at my audience, and I saw how many of you there really were. I tried to prepare myself for the dissolution of our fellowship. Our reason to be together was concluded. People that I had now come to know, to love, had no further use for me.

It was time for you all to leave.

But you didn't. You threw more logs into the fire. "Thank you for the story," you said. "Would you like to listen to mine?"

I would. I really, really would.

It's been a year, now. With no "use" to these relationships. You came for a story, I told it; when it was over, you stayed.

Writing that story was my purpose, for a while. My literal reason for living. Now, a year later— where am I? Who am I?

Well, if you read the Damn Fic, then you know. I am every version of myself that I have ever been. I am a kid who likes stories. I’m a student. I’m a teacher. I’m an addict. I’m staying up way too late writing. I’m in line for a ride with you at Disney World. I’m laughing at a stupid joke. I’m 16 and thinking I won’t live past 25. I’m on the phone with my friends, playing the dumbest game. I’m way past 25. I’m at yet another funeral. I’m at a wedding. I’m getting dumped. I’m falling in love. And I’m so much more, all at once.

And I'm still alive, here in the afterwards, one year past my expiration date.

I have so many more stories to tell you guys. I hope you like them. I hope I tell them well.

The narrative continues. I’m sticking around, and that is an adjuration.

[loveletterlore]

missin' you ♡ e.m. x reader

pairing: eddie munson x reader

summary: a letter from eddie while he's away on tour

warnings: some swearing, references to nsfw activities

word count: 400

authors note: this is a snippet of the types of letters that are now offered on my Etsy store! If you'd like your own personalised letter, follow the link!

My sweetheart,

I miss you, more and more everyday. We’re in Evansville tonight, some local dive bar, but the beer’s cheap so I’m not complaining.

I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since I last saw you, held you, kissed you. Every night when I get into the bus, there’s a second where I forget that I’m not driving straight home to you and I have to remind myself that it’s only one more week until I get back to you. The other guys keep making fun of me because while they’re off flirting with girls after the shows, I’m sitting and moping and missing you. Jokes on them, I’d rather be thinking of you than hanging around with those idiots.

Sometimes, when I’m laying in that “bed” in the tour bus (they legally should not be able to call it a bed when it’s that damn uncomfortable) I close my eyes and pretend you’re lying next to me. Sounds crazy but I swear sometimes I can hear your voice - could just be hearing damage from the amps or Gareth’s fucking snoring. Drives me insane just wishing that you were here next to me. You wanna know the worst thing? Despite it’s many years of loyal service, my left hand does NOT work as an alternative to you - you've ruined me. No matter how hard I try, nothing compares to your touch - I can’t wait to get home…

I hope you’re having an awful time without me… I can just imagine you laughing at me right now and it makes me miss you more. Seriously though, I hope everything’s good at home - how did your exam go? I bet you passed, my smart girl. We’ll have to celebrate when I get home. How about when I get back we buy a crap ton of candy and camp out on the sofa for a few days? I would kill for that right now.

I gotta go wrap this up so I can mail it before the show starts. I love you and I miss you and the thought of seeing you soon is gonna get me through these last few shows. 

I’ll see you soon princess, I love you,

Your kick-ass rockstar boyfriend,

Eddie

P.S. Next time we go on tour I’m bringing you with me, I’m not ever leaving you this long again.

masterlist for more of my work

ever wish your favourite character could send you a personalised letter? now they can via my Etsy store <3

[buffetlicious]

Anyway, here were the dishes we ordered. The first to be served was the Rigatoni Alla Vodka (S$22++), penne in tomato and cream sauce with vodka added. The vodka emulsifies the sauce and enhances flavour. I got to try a piece of the pasta and alcohol was quite pronounced.

Two people ordered the Stone Age Burger (S$20++) with angus beef patty, cheese, red onion, pickles and coated straight-cut fries. Although I did not get to try the burger, I was given some fries and it was well flavoured and crispy on the outside and fluffy inside.

Both my two colleagues next to me had the Stone-Cut Schnitzel (S$28++) which is deep-fried tenderized pork loin cutlet with sour potato salad, cranberry compote and lemon. They finished every bit on the plate, so must be good.

Colleague’s family had this Cave Smoked Rib (S$36++) to share. 500 grams of pork rib barbecued to perfection and glazed with BBQ sauce. Came with a side of pickled cucumbers. She told me it was very good so you will have to take her words for it. :D.

My Charcoal-Grilled Spring Chicken (S$28++) was the last to be served, but it was worth the wait. A juicy and succulent whole spring chicken grilled to a mouthwatering goodness, covered in lightly spicy peri-peri sauce. Gave the lemon a squeeze to release the juice which helps to cut down the greasiness and add acidity.

Since we still have more than a hour to waste before the bus will arrive to ferry us back, colleagues suggested we go have a drink. We had exited the park and wander around the vicinity looking for a place to hang out. One colleague said she wanted to drink Masala Tea so we went to an Indian Restaurant. Other than the two of us who ordered Masala Tea, the others did not enjoy their tea which is either too sweet or tasteless or both. No tea pictures to show but we found many Torch Ginger Flowers (Etlingera elatior) blooming along the way and Waterfall.

To summarise the visit to Rainforest Wild Asia. If you are here to see the animals, you might end up a little disappointed as there aren’t a lot to be seen. Here, the landscapes imitate the rainforest of Asia with plenty of flora and most of the animals are not used to be up close with humans, so they tend to stay away from the open area. Overheard another group of visitors’ conversation, she was lamenting to another about having only seen tortoises. :D Poor girl needs to open her eyes big big to spot the animals among the trees, shrubs and brushes. On the other hand, if you are the adventurous type, there are plenty of hands-on activities to enjoy though not all of them are free. You can also venture off the beaten path (elevated walkway) and explore the streams and undergrowth of a tropical rainforest.

[biellescouts]

ohhh.. now i do.

bf!bang chan x f!reader

A/N: frontal lobe developed & i just realised im the most active at writing fics when i have exams… what a cute little quirk i have ☺️

CW: flashback, “bubba” 😟, curse words, he dropped that L bomb FIRST🙂‍↕️, kinda freaky.. oops — p in v sex, missionary, raw next question🤯, he finishes inside, lowkey sub!bang chan? dk how that happened guys

Summary: you & bang chan came back to the hotel where you first met, and reminisce on how the two of you came to find eachother. & then some.

can be a standalone but!!! here’s part 1

the morning after, you woke up pissed off. your body clock thought it would be cool and cunt to wake you up and 7:30 am even though it was literally summer and you were literally on vacation… you lazily rolled over to smack your hand onto your phone and drag it off the bedside table to check your messages.

3 messages: from your friends to tell you how much fun they had… chop!

2 insta notifs: to tell you that doja cat is live & wants you to join [??]

and 1 text message: from “baddie from the bar.” …whoever the hell that is

at first you truly thought it was a scam caller trying to convince you to give out your card details so that they can finally send you your etsy package that you didn’t even order.

BUT, there was an emoji. scam callers don’t use emojis…

so, when you open it, everything from last night just rushes back into your head.

maybe 13 seconds into the elevator trip, “y’know what, you’re actually so funny and chill.”

you smack your forehead so loud that it echoes in the big hotel room. “EW!”

anyways,, after tweaking for maybe 30 seconds you get over yourself and actually open the message and reply. keeping it short and sweet with “hey how are you?” & closing your phone and throwing it across the room upon just remembering he was actually really fine.

coming out of the bathroom after showering, brushing your teeth and washing your face, you accidentally step on your phone and you have more messages. popular girl.

1 from one of your friends that left you alone; it reads: “waah don’t leave me on read, swear we’ll let you be a third wheel next time!!”

and ANOTHER text from “baddie from the bar”, yes god.

« i’m good thank you, can i see you? » HELLO.

after you’re done kicking your feet over genuinely a 13 second conversation, you try to make the nicest possible outfit out of what you brought with you and as soon as you’re done getting ready, he’s at the door knocking. scary af.

you open the door and there he is. clad in a black linen shirt and black pants to match. his hair is down in his face, flicking his eyelids and some very expensive looking sunglasses sit on the top of his head like a tiara.

“well, hi.” you beam up at his handsome face, giving it a slow once over.

“hello.” he flashed that charming smile at you and your legs almost gave out.

“we should go somewhere.” you playfully poke your finger into his hard torso, trying be cute, feigning confidence— even though youre low-key shitting, and he takes your hand in his.

as the two of you make it into the elevator, you lean on him once again; just like you did the night before.

he breaks your comfortable silence; “do you remember much of last night?”

you sigh out a quiet laugh, “i mean i think so.. what did i do?” involuntarily furrowing your brows.

he laughs with you, “no you didn’t do anything bad, i’m just wondering. to see if you still fuck with me.”

“pfft shut up.” you elbow his side.

6 months later, pan to a beautiful, luxurious and dimly lit hotel room, grey interior and a full back wall of floor to ceiling windows that let in the cool light of the city below you—

“…and the rest was history.” you sighed out dramatically with your eyes closed.

suspicious silence pulled you out of your dreamy state as you cracked your eyes open only to be met with bang chan’s incredulous expression. “babe, what?”

“i did not say that.” he burst into laughter before doing maybe the worst impression of himself ever “‘do you still fuck with me?’— no. not me.”

you threw your head back, “oh my god. you literally said that.”

“mmmm… i think you said that to me.”

“dude.”

he laughed, “anyway, anyway! i gotta tell you something. baby, you wanna know something?” he pokes the side of your arm.

“hm?”

“i made you a playlist— like i made a playlist that reminds me of you..” he dips his head down momentarily before looking back up at you— he’s shy.

“what?! you did?” your face lights up as you spring onto your knees on the hotel mattress.

“uh huh.”

“ooh who’s in there, lemme see!” beckoning motion with your hand so he passes you the phone but he flinches away.

“uh, no! no, it’s a secret.”

“what, it’s literally my playlist.”

— the two of you are play fighting for his phone by that point.

“actually, i’m the one who made it. so really it’s mine.” he quips back.

“channie.. one artist.” your brows furrow into a pleading expression.

“pfft, okay, um. ariana? grande?”

she just throws her head back and laughs.

“from which album?” and he just scoffs.

“baby, i don’t think that matters.”

“right.. right.”

“aye, but you know what does matter?” he taps the knuckle of his pointer finger across your chin, to grab your attention, “bubba, you know what matters?”

you throw your hands up dramatically, “oh man. i don’t know. what matters?”

he wraps a big arm around your torso and drags you into his side, “that you’re here with mee,” he says, dragging out the word, kissing up and down the sides of your face. “this is where we found eachotherr.” he nuzzles his face into your neck.

“my god, can you stop.” you barely laugh out as you turn to look at him. after flickering your eyes across his features you decide to kiss his nose making him scrunch it up.

“why is it that you’re allowed to be corny and affectionate but i’m not?”

you shrugged, “it’s normal when i do it.”

“now, as i was saying,” you ran a finger up his forearm and started to shift from your position next to him, “i like you a lot, and um. i’m really happy to be here with you. not even gonna lie, man.” you planted your knees on either side of his hips, lacing your fingers between his on one of his hands while the other came to rest on your hips as he laughed at your informality.

“‘man’.. yeah ok.”

“i just think it’s romantic that you wanted to come back here..”

“mhm.”

“and you tried to get the same hotel room…”

“mmhm.”

“and— channie, why are you shifting, i’m getting motion sickness.” you point a confused look at him but it seemingly goes right through him. his eyelids were dangerously low.

“you just look so pretty.” he shrugs innocently, “i don’t know.” and you just laugh at him. it makes you wonder just how much of your praise even went into his head.. and how much of it went maybe somewhere else. “let’s swap places.”

bang chan slides a big hand up your waist and behind your back and pulls you in, flush to his chest before lifting you slightly and turning you over— so that your now under him. now he was the one on his knees but you were looking up at him. you dragged your calves up his thighs to rest around his waist and pull him into you.

“y’know, you actually look really good from down here.”

“yeah?” he dipped down to plant an open mouthed kiss just below your jaw. this caused your cocky confidence to immediately fall flat.

“well, i mean yeah.”

and he just laughs with his face in the crook of your neck, “can you not make me laugh right now, i’m trying to seduce you.”

“oh, oh okay. yeah okay, sorry.”

he continued pressing feather-light kisses up your neck, the front of your neck, the side, your jawline again until he reached the corner of your mouth. he paused - just for a second - to bring his hand up to your face and rub the pad of his thumb over your cheekbones. you fluttered your eyes open, wondering why he hadn’t kissed you yet. he was just.. staring.

“baby, i love you.” oh.

before you could even respond to his confession. slowly, he pressed his soft lips against yours. starting out gentle, almost as if he was holding back, like you could shatter into a million pieces of fine china. however, after you had started to move your hands across his face and into his hair, his attempts at tame kisses could not prevail. the more of yourself you put into kissing him back, the weaker he became. you could hear him start to moan into the kisses as you gently pushed your hand under the back of his jacket and tank top, moving your other hand out of his hair to start tugging at the hem, signifying you wanted to take it off.

he momentarily broke away from the kiss with a ‘tch’ sound and rose back up onto his knees before you. he quickly took off his jacket and threw it onto the floor next to the bed before crossing his arms over his torso to remove his tank. when the tank top was off, lost somewhere in the comforter, you couldn’t help but run your hands over his abdomen, ever so slightly dragging your nails as you peered up at him through your lashes.

he reached down to hook a finger behind the waistline of your pants, silently asking to take them off. he dragged them down your legs, pressing a kiss to your hip, just above where your underpants start. he moved his face back up to ghost a kiss just below your ear.

“b- uhm, baby? i really need to be inside you. please?” he sighed out heavily, “could i take of your underpants?”

you threaded your fingers back into his soft brown hair “mhm.”

with your confirmation, he looped both pointer fingers into either side of your underpants to drag them down and pulled down his own boxers to reveal his hard dick.

he leaned down on his left elbow to press a kiss to your nose, “gonna put it in, okay?” and you nodded at him.

the two of you both sighed in unison as he slipped his dick inside you with ease. though you’d been together for months by this point, you still didn’t think you’d ever get used to the feel of his dick pushing past for the first time.

once he had made time for you to get somewhat used to the stretch of his dick, he started to thrust at a steady pace, grabbing at your thighs to pull your legs back around his waist. from this new angle, he was managing to hit your g-spot with every thrust. because of how close his hips had gotten to yours, you could feel your clit brush against his pelvis

“ough fuck— pussy feels so good around me…” he whined into your shoulder, “so tight around me.”

the sound of your hips slapping together bounced off the walls of the hotel room and you prayed for the walls to be sound proof.

“just like that, baby…”

you could tell chan was starting to get close by the way his thrusts became less calculated, he seemed more pleasure driven and his heavy breaths started to turn into low moans.

“babe, m’gonna need you to tell me when— mmph, when you get close, ‘kay?” he lifted himself off of his elbows, pulling your thighs into his arms and speeding up his pace, “gonna give it to you, mkay?”

“chan, baby, i’m close, i’m gonna—“

“cum with me, baby. cum on me, please, need it so bad.” he leaned back down to push sloppy kisses onto your lips and as you reached your orgasm, you felt the stutter of his hips against yours as he came inside you, whimpering and sighing in your ear.

after the two of you had come down from the highs of your orgasms, he slowly and carefully pulled out of you, put his dick back in his sweats and grabbed your panties from the bed side table to slide them back onto you and lovingly kissing your legs in the process.

“hey, chan?” you pulled him down into your arms with your legs and you stroked his ever so slightly sweaty hair away from his eyes, “i love you too.”

a/n: CORNY ASS ENDING but i lowk dk how to end fics,, especially after smut like damnnn chill on me. anyways, hope you liked😸 um and also, i dont think channie’s a minute man im just not too much of a smut connoisseur. i am once again pleasing that you chill on me. alas,.. THABK U FOR READING ANGELSSS & here are the requested tags ⬂

🏷️: @thinkingaboutlana @akindaflora @sammhisphere

[pannman]

Whats on your mind

Pt 2

Part 1 here

Yandere Alastor x telepathic reader

Tw: controlling behavior, toxic relationships, power dynamics, physical abuse, possessiveness, anxious thoughts, yanderish themes

After you had no choice but to tell Alastor about your abilities he suddenly took a great interest in you. He never seemed to mind your ability to hear the fucked things he was thinking. He followed you pretty much everywhere. Looming over you while you did the dishes. Your head would ache horribly

*missed a spot*

He was constantly striking up a conversation with you. Whether it be out loud or more to his liking in your head. You noticed a constant buzzing lately and you weren't sure where it was coming from but it was starting to drive you a little insane. Meanwhile you started to notice Alastor's thoughts about you growing more obsessive. He started to notice as well it seemed. He came to your room one night to finally make a move

"You know it's quite sad you have this ability and you cannot tell anyone. Imagine. Just imagine what some of these sinners would do to have a power like yours. I mean owning your soul would do. Good thing the entirety of hell doesn't know. Speaking of the entirety of hell... I hope you've tuned into my radio show since you've been here. Quite popular actually" you started get the idea of what he was trying to tell you as he continued "would be a shame if I let it slip about your powers live on air." He smiled deviously at you

"What do you want?" You asked. "I want to make a deal" you laughed at him. "I'm not giving you my soul." You knew it would be bad if word got out but there was no way in hell you would sell your soul to this creep. "Of course not! There are other ways to make a deal my friend. What I'm proposing is an arrangement where you can no longer hear my thoughts unless I want you to. This will protect you from being harmed by my thoughts unless I have something important to tell you. And you, my little psychic, will read minds for me and run errands whenever I ask you to. And you will be 100% honest with me"

It wasn't really much of a deal in your favor. But it was this or he told all of hell your secret.

*it's not like you have much of a choice*

His thoughts sent another sharp pain in your head and you felt yourself give up mentally. "Okay.... deal" you shook his hand and green sparks flew everywhere and a powerful force blew you back a little like a strong wind. His face changed to have his smile sewn in stitches and you wondered what you had gotten yourself into

It was after that the constant buzzing you'd been hearing lately vanished. Was that him this whole fucking time?

After that you no longer heard Alastor's thoughts. The fucked up thing was.... you sorta missed it. It felt weird. And honestly the weirdest part was him being the only one in the world who could hide things from you. But even though you no longer heard his thoughts Alastor often seeked you out to pick your brain about things, to complain, to tell you outlandish stories about his glory days of being alive. Were you guys friends? You weren't sure. You had some kind of weird relationship going on. And you had noticed before the deal his thoughts lately had only been about you

Things like how he wondered why you smelled so good, where you buy your clothes, if you would notice him in your room while you slept, how long could you hold your breath (that last one less creepy but more concerning)

You had started to think maybe he was thinking these on purpose to freak you out but every time he was caught thinking them he seemed uncomfortable and then he would disappear for a while. You weren't sure which would be worse, if these thoughts were fabricated to torment you or... if they we're genuinely his

It was another day at the hotel. Charlie had another fun activity planned, Vaggie was trying to keep everyone in line, Angel was having a good old time taunting her and Husk was just sitting on the couch downing a whole bottle of whiskey. Niffy scurried around cleaning the hotel room from room like a roomba on crack

Suddenly a man appeared almost out of thin air. Like he just poofed into the lobby. He had blonde hair and bleach white skin, he wore a red and white suit. It took you a minute to realize this was Lucifer.... the devil. Although the way he hugged Charlie and smiled like a goofy idiot gave less intimidating vibes. Charlie seemed surprised to see him. "Hey, Dad... it's nice to see you come downstairs for once" she said

"Well, you know... I don't wanna impose. This is your dream. This is your hotel. I am just here if you need me" he replied. "Thanks dad but you really should come out of your tower every once in a while" you approached hoping to be polite. Charlie spotted you. "Oh, y/n! This is my dad. He lives up in that tower that looks kinda like an apple" she told you. "He lives here?" You accidentally asked out loud. It grew into awkward silence before Lucifer finally changed the subject. He shook your hand. "Call me Lucifer, it's great to meet you. So, when did you arrive here?" He asked. His thoughts played in your brain

*probably a day or two ago. I've only been held up for a week or... or was it two?*

"A month ago...." you responded. The awkward silence returned. "Oh... right. Has it been that long?" He scratched his head and started staring into space

*have I... been ignoring everyone...? am I doing exactly what I did before? Is this conversation making everyone uncomfortable? Am I overdressed!?! Should I have worn a different outfit?!?*

Vaggie God bless her soul decided to save him from his inner spiral. "Um sir! There is a few things I could use your help with" she swept him away and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief. "Why does he live here and I've never met him?" You asked hoping you weren't stepping out of line. "Oh well you used to be a shut in... but now he's a shut in who... lives here. Soooo... progress! Yaay!" She sounded so desperate to hide her concerns

*I wish he would talk to me instead of hiding up there so long. I know he's nervous and not good with people but its not healthy*

You felt bad that Charlie was worried about her dad. If only there was a way you could help. You thought maybe you could try and talk to him more to get him out of his shell a bit. After all you could read minds. Maybe you could use your power for good. At the very least use your power at all instead of just living with it

You approached him again hoping to get him more comfortable with you instead whatever happened before. "Hello sir, I just wanted to get more acquainted. I really like your outfit. It's very nice" you complimented him. "Oh, why thank you. You know I have all my suits custom made. You can never be too overdressed is what I always say"

Suddenly you felt a firm hand land on your shoulder and claws dig into you from behind. You winced but tried to hold it in as Alastor got very close to you face. You could feel his breath on your neck as he leaned down to your level. "What do we have here?" Lucifer's polite smile turned into a look of disgust. "Of course. I forgot YOU existed. And why don't you ease up on my friend here. I think you're hurting them"

Alastor merely dug his claws in deeper. "Friend? My my. I didn't realize you two were on friend basis. This one and I have been rather close since they arrived. I'm sure they would rather spend their time having a lovely conversation with me instead" he pulled you closer to him like you were his property. You grew annoyed with him and pried his hand off your shoulder. "I think I can decide for myself thank you" Lucifer didn't really comment but you heard his thoughts

*ah, nice! Glad they got some fight in them. who does he think he is grabbing them like that? I hope their ok*

You were happy to know where Charlie gets her empathy from. Honestly for being the devil, he seemed to be kind of a nice guy. Well intentioned at least. But unlike Charlie he sensed Alastor's dark presence and refused to tolerate it

Alastor grew sort of frustrated by your defiance and your instant siding with Lucifer. You expected him to grow more overbearing or push you over the edge but instead he surprisingly changed his tune. "I suppose I wasn't being much of a gentleman was I? I will leave you two to your conversation. My apologies" he then left, leaving you two quite stunned by his uncharacteristic behavior. Lucifer seemed as suspicious of it as you

*what in hell is he up to? He's never backed down from antagonizing me like this before. Maybe he truly does have some sort of attachment to them*

You and Lucifer continued your discussion but all the while it felt like you were being watched. After hearing Lucifer's mind ramble as much as his mouth did, never once did he give the impression he also felt like someone was watching. Maybe you were just being paranoid.

Afterwards he went back to his room and you went to yours to relax. Only a certain red deer demon was waiting for you. "What are you doing here?" You asked trying to keep the fear out of your voice. Normally you wouldn't be scared but you could not hear Alastor's thoughts so his intentions were a mystery to you. You never realized how scary that was until now.

He stood up from your bed without saying a word. He approached you slowly. You backed up against the door. Your hand reached for the knob

*Don't*

You fell to the ground in pain. Alastor towered over you. You couldn't see his face but you knew that awful smile was still plastered on it. He spoke to you out loud. "I dont appreciate you talking to Lucifer behind my back"

You tried to stand. You got up slow as you spoke. "How was I supposed to know you hated him? I didn't even know he lived here!" You tried to reason with him. It seemed to work. "I suppose it's not your fault for not knowing. But you still tried to defy me" he growled. "Our deal is that I read minds for you and run errands for you. I have to be honest. There is nothing that states I have to do everything you say. You don't own me. We have an arrangement. It's heavily in your favor. But that doesn't mean you get to bully me" you finally stood up fully. You glared him in the eyes which were radio dials

He seemed to calm down. Almost instantly. "Fine... that is our arrangement. Then how about this? You will befriend Lucifer and read his mind. I want you to find out all his secrets. His weaknesses, his fears, his darkest desires. All of that. I want to crush him like an ant. And you will help me. Consider it an errand" he commanded

You didn't really want to do that to Lucifer. You didn't know him very well yet but you felt bad for him. And he was also Charlie's dad. But you knew the deal you made. You nodded. "Ok" you felt the pain surge in your mind again as Alastor made it clear he was the one in control

*remember... this stays..... between us*

[overfedsoul]

do you have any tips on how to get thinner arms? i feel like i always look so bulky in my arms and upper body in general. i want thin arms and visible collar bones.

Hello!

Even though you can't spot-reduce fat, you can definitely work on toning up your arms. For leaner arms overall, it’s best to combine cardio (like HIIT, dance workouts, or anything fun you enjoy) for 30 to 60 minutes, 4–5 times a week, with Pilates and/or yoga, 4–5 times a week too.

If you tend to gain muscle easily in your upper body, heavy weights might not be your best friend. Instead, focus on light weights and bodyweight exercises. The key is to really feel your muscles working and stay in control of the movement — even if that means doing fewer reps.

Here are some of my favorite videos (I do them a couple of times a week). I found Blogilates' video because it was recommended by Dr. Eric Berg, a chiropractor who shares fitness and (sometimes controversial) nutrition advice on YouTube — I tried it, and yep, it definitely burns, even though I prefer the two videos on the left.

Also, eating more protein really helps! It supports muscle growth, gives you that toned look, and keeps you fuller for longer. If your usual diet is high in carbs and low in protein, try adjusting it. The RDA for carbs is around 130g/day, but some people feel better with more, while others do well with less. Try experimenting to see what works for you!

And okay, this might sound weird, but walk more. Walking doesn’t just tone your legs — it burns calories and helps slim down your whole body. Honestly, staying active throughout the day makes more of a difference than just doing a cardio session and a couple of toning workouts, and then sitting the rest of the day.

For Pilates and Yoga, I really enjoy:

— Move with Nicole

— The Glow Method

— Boho Beautiful

[starkid-smosh]

Here's the thing about the Smosh Family dynamics and whatnot. They are fun and cute but they're obviously not actually a family and I think some people take it too far sometimes. People act like everyone *has* to be "siblings" or "twins" or "parent/child" and if anyone in the fandom ships two people other people deem as "related," THEY'RE the weird ones. They're the weirdos like they're shipping incest or something, but in reality, none of these people are related so people can ship whoever they want.

We saw the negative impacts of people taking the "smosh family" stuff too seriously last year when Arasha and Ian played people on a date in a sketch and everyone was like "eww this feels so weird since they're father and child," but it's like well no actually they aren't. They have every right to play a couple in a video, and they were great at it from what I remember! Like Amanda and Trevor are "mother and son" to a lot of people but they did a tntl bit where I was like "wait do they have chemistry?? 👀" and made me realize I wouldn't be opposed to that as a ship too, but they're "mother and son" to most people and the people who take that too seriously would think that idea is weird probably. But like obviously they aren't mother and son lol. Another example is how people were starting to ship Spencer and Angela and then all of a sudden a big part of the fandom decided that they are "twins" and now it's "weird" to ship them. That kind of mentality affected me too because I was also kinda shipping them and then I saw all the twins stuff and was like "ooh ok I see that too!.. Wait is this weird now??" No it's not weird bc they aren't twins!!

Another thing people need to realize is that I think almost every smosh dynamic gives siblings sometimes and gives romance at other times, so I understand why people say both things for a lot of these duos. I've seen this a lot with damangela too. "Why do people ship them they give sibling vibes??" "I don't know why people see them as siblings when they seem to flirt with each other??" Like yes both things are true and I understand both sides but don't try to dismiss someone shipping them because you decided they're "related" or even act like they're "clearly romantic so why the siblings vibe?" (although I'll admit I'm more on the "why are they siblings they literally flirt 😭" side but I see where the other people are coming from and definitely see the moments where they also can give "siblings vibes").

The smosh cast are neither related nor dating (besides like shourtney who are married lol) so neither of those things are set in stone, and you shouldn't try to act like people are weird for shipping people just because YOU'VE decided they're related. Like amangela is a very popular ship, but I also think they give sisters vibes sometimes. That doesn't negate the times they DO give romantic vibes and have shippy moments though because again they are neither in a relationship nor sisters.

I also feel like people just see two people bantering and teasing each other and automatically see that as siblings for some reason. We saw this A LOT with Shayne and Courtney before the wedding. Everyone was determined that they were siblings when they were dating 3/4 of the time everyone was saying that 😭 I saw a lot of those comments even on their Trivial Pursuit video that was posted literally a week before their wedding. Like heaven forbid a couple has some fun and teases and banters with each other instead of being super romantic all the time! Bantering is not strictly a familial activity and honestly is a crucial part of relationships imo so idk why people see two people teasing each other and go "haha SIBLINGS!"

This isn't me dissing the "smosh family" or "sibling vibes" comments in its totality like I do it too! It's fun and cute and true a lot of the time lol like the smosh cast DO give siblings vibes a lot! I've made those kinds of comments in the past and will continue to do so lol. This is more about the people who try to permanently shove every smosh dynamic into a familial box when that's not the case! Trevor and Angela give siblings vibes a lot but they also played a (short lived lol) couple in Spud Hut and were believable and had chemistry (or as much chemistry as you can have playing a couple that's about to break up lmao), and, thankfully I didn't see these kinds of comments, but if you thought that was weird because they are "siblings" that's what I'm talking about.

And honestly this isn't even just about siblings vibes vs romantic vibes/shipping because I just realized this post kinda focuses on that, but like people can just be close friends lol. People don't have to be related or dating to have a good dynamic, but sometimes I feel like some people act like if they don't explicitly have one of those two vibes, then they must not be a good duo. Two people can have a good dynamic and be a good duo even if you don't think they're fucking or family lmaoo. Good lord this post is like 900 words I'm so sorry for writing a whole ass essay about this 💀 This is just something I've been kinda thinking about recently and I just kept thinking about more and more things as I was writing and now it's the length of a full article or something 😭.

TLDR: The Smosh Family and siblings vibes comments are really fun but aren't the end all be all for smosh dynamics and shouldn't be taken too seriously

[lotties-ashwagandha]

SORRY TO CANCEL…

shauna sadecki x fem!reader, 1.5k words.

when you move in across the street, shauna invites you to her book club — it’ll be good for you to be involved in your new community. but when her book club cancels last minute during your first meeting with them, the night starts to feel more like a first date. dedicated to @seluni . part 2 of this coming soon!!! lmk what we want if we want sesbian lex or no sesbian lex? stalker shauna?

Your new neighbor stands at the door with a store-bought pie made to look homemade in a glass dish and giant sunglasses covering up how she tries to inconspicuously look into your house. “Welcome to the neighborhood!”

You take the pie, trying to figure out where to look instead of straight at the sun glaring off her glasses. You look down at the pie. “Thank you so much! It’s beautiful— apple?”

“No,” she scoffs. “Pickle.”

Oh. Well. “It’s great to finally meet you,” you try. It’s been a little less than a week since you moved in, and so far the neighborhood has been quiet — it’s good to make some acquaintances at last.

She hums in response, taking off her sunglasses and squinting into your house to get a better look at it. She has already lost patience when it comes to disguising the snooping neighbor act, and while you would’ve preferred your privacy, you respect her openness.

“Would you like to come in?”

She meets your eyes. She nods, and then she backpedals as she becomes aware of her impoliteness. “Oh, I’m sure you’re busy unpacking…”

“No, not at all,” you smile. You step aside and catch a hint of her perfume as she passes, cool and woodsy and complimentary of the air of authority she’s swept into your house with in her blue flannel. “Shauna, right? The realtor mentioned you, said your family kept the neighborhood a lively community.”

She nods mindlessly and continues inside. You follow.

“You have a gorgeous home,” Shauna picks up one of the framed photos on your hallway display table and puts it back face-down. “You know, I took a tour with the realtor while it was still on the market. Didn’t want to buy this place, just wanted to see if you could still tell where they buried all those murder victims in the backyard.”

Fuck. “Really?”

“No.”

You set the pickle pie down on the kitchen counter. You clear your throat, trying to cut through the silence that has formed between you. “Thank you for the pie.”

Shauna stalks toward you, studying you so intensely you look away. She leans against the kitchen island as if she lives here, taking you in. She isn’t subtle about letting her gaze linger.

The smell of fresh grass wafts in through your open windows, the sound of a lawnmower down the street acting as a tool for groundedness. You try not to read too much into the way Shauna is looking at you, and you try not to let your gaze get stuck on her for too long even with how close she is. You lift your eyes to meet hers.

“You should join my book club.”

You blink. “Your book club?”

“We’re meeting this Friday night at seven. You’re new here and it’s good to be active in the community, don’t you think?”

“Your group wouldn’t mind a stranger?”

“No, I think they would be very welcoming,” Shauna shakes her head. “Friday at seven. We’ll look forward to seeing you there.”

She’s out the door before you can respond.

Book club. Do you seem like a book club person? No. Maybe. You certainly aren’t a woman eager to party crash a stranger’s gossip group on a Friday night, but the finality in Shauna’s tone left you without any options.

That doesn’t mean you can’t mope about it, though — you spend the entire week dreading that Friday, trying to get your confidence up so that you can channel a bit of charisma upon arrival. You buy a nice bottle of wine to bring over too, and while you have no idea what book Shauna’s group read this month, you try to make yourself seem somehow academic when you step onto her front porch on Friday at exactly seven in the evening and knock on the door.

“You made it,” Shauna smiles, opening the door a crack. She looks you over, takes the bottle of wine from your hands, and then her expression falls. “Oh, shit, I forgot to come tell you…”

“Tell me what?”

“We canceled this month,” she sighs. “I didn’t have your phone number, I would have sent you a text…”

You don’t know how to respond — you wish you hadn’t gone over in the first place. You knew this was a bad idea from the very start.

Shauna opens the door up wider and steps to the side. She holds up the bottle of wine. “I can’t send you home when you’ve brought me this, though. Come in.”

After a moment of hesitation, you follow her inside. It’s a little awkward being the only one here and to be an unexpected guest, but the wine was expensive and you’re dressed up in the finest of the clothes you have unpacked since moving in. You’ll consider it a guilty pleasure if you must, a night to celebrate your new house and your new neighbor and your new status as World’s Most Prepared Book Club Member.

Shauna doesn’t seem to mind, either. She has an empty house and a full bottle of wine and nothing more to ask for.

Her house is beautiful, and you try your best to focus on it as you try not to focus on her. You try not to study the way she fits into her black dress, too formal for book club, hugging her frame and complemented by the array of dainty silver jewelry adorning her neck.

“Sit down,” she gestures into the living room.

You settle into an armchair and Shauna takes a seat on the sofa next to it after handing you one of the two wine glasses she comes back with.

“How are you enjoying the new house?” Shauna asks. “Despite what the realtor told you, this isn’t much of a busy neighborhood. I’m always grateful for that.”

“It’s beautiful,” you nod. “Pleasant neighbors…”

She taps a fingernail against the wine glass. “Who would that be?”

You pretend to consider it. “Certainly not the Sadecki family.”

“No, definitely not. Not so pleasant at all. You should move away.”

“Do you want that?”

“No,” she says. “I don’t want that.”

The wine is sweet on your tongue. You look down into the glass, and then up at Shauna. “What book were you reading this month? For book club? I never asked.”

For once, Shauna falters. She stares at you harshly for a few seconds, scanning a small stack of books on the coffee table before gingerly picking one up off the top. “This. We were reading this.”

“A gardening guide?”

She pauses, eyes darting to the title. She shrugs and sits back. “It’s almost summer. A few of us in the group have gardens.”

You’re not convinced. “What did you learn from reading it?”

“Are you an avid gardener?” Shauna asks, irritability creeping into her tone.

You like it — you want to evoke more. “I am, actually. I’d love to hear all about it.”

She sets the book down in front of you instead, rapping her knuckles on the hard sage green cover. “Read it yourself. Take it home.”

“Oh, you don’t have to...”

“It’s the least I can do after everyone canceled on such short notice,” she says, trying to recover — it’s clear to both of you by now that there’s no book club.

If not book club, you’re wondering what this is. It feels very much like a date, but you don’t want to make any straightforward assumptions. If she had wanted a date, you would have hoped she would just go out and say it.

Maybe it’s different with Shauna, though. She doesn’t come across as trusting. This is her way of assessing you, and if she likes what she finds then this will count as a first date from her perspective.

“You look incredible,” Shauna tells you. She looks over your outfit approvingly.

“Thank you,” you look down at your own clothes, smoothing them with your free hand. “I wasn’t sure if it was too formal for a book club.”

“You look perfect,” she assures you, because she’s too overdressed herself to have not been expecting visitors.

This was all premeditated, and the longer the night goes on the less you care. In the back of your mind, maybe you wanted this — your dread had concealed your hope. And even though it was the excuse you had both gone with to get you here, you didn’t give a fuck about being an active member of the community.

Wine glass in hand, you stand up and move to sit next to her on the sofa. You meet her eyes when she shifts a little to face you.

“I’m glad book club had to cancel,” you place a hand carefully on her knee. You let her read into it in whichever way she’d like, but despite the possibility of the gesture being domestic, neither of you see it as such.

She places a hand over yours on her leg and slides it up her thigh a bit. When you look up at her, she seems even closer. New want dances in her eyes, focused on you alone, and she leans closer.

You won’t give in just yet. Not on the first date.

You take the wine glass from her hand and stand up. “Ready for a refill?”

-

-

-

sexy yellowjackets taglist: @webism @ahauandthesun @chaithetics @szczurkanalowy @marleymarleymarleymarley @aphrodyk3 @ludasgf @pnsteblnme @il0veb0ttomsthem0vie @neighbourhoodspidey @dorotheareid @jackiesjersey

thank you for reading!!! if you’d like to read more fics, check out my masterlist!

[whumpster-dumpster]

tw: moral discourse - I have that same OCD myself, here we go!

To: Anon asking about discomfort writing whump

I've definitely been there, and you're in good company here. Here's a few things for you to consider:

Whump works like exposure therapy. It's a safe space wherein to experience things that would normally be uncomfortable. In real life, I'm so conflict-avoidant, it nearly brings me to tears when, like, a mom chastises a kid... across the mall. In writing, I had a whumper make the whumpee lick his own blood off whumper's hand. The discomfort is good! It's your brain figuring stuff out, though sometimes you might not be aware of what exactly.

Storytelling is a fundamental form of play for humans, just anthropologically speaking. This isn't something that's necessarily about what happened to you; as soon as we're able to tell stories, sometimes even before we can separate fact from fiction, humans do this! The science of play is fascinating but not to diverge, whump is a kind of Magic Circle. The rules inside the circle can be in some way related to the rules of real life outside the circle, and it can be useful to reflect on it, but as long as you don't Act on it, it remains safely where it is, in the realm of fiction.

Anon are you neurodivergent? I am. Understanding people is hard for me. I spent years actively putting myself in other peoples' shoes to try to understand what makes people behave the way they do. We had a student who was very abrasive, to us and to the teachers, and though I never found out why, it looked to me like she wanted attention from her parents, trying to prove a point. I couldn't relate to her behaviour - my relationship with my parents wasn't like that. But I could empathise, because of trying to put myself in her shoes. Write situations you haven't been in, write about people who are unlike you, you might find you discover something new!

Well done taking time to look into yourself. I can't know if if you're worrying about nothing or if you genuinely have some negative traits - the reality is probably somewhere in the middle. I guess you have about as much negativity as the average person. Here's a hint I heard my teacher say: the fact that you're worrying about it is your indicator that you're keeping yourself in check. Some people are so far gone, they're beyond caring whether they hurt themselves or anyone else, and that's a much more challenging battle.

To summarize, if whump is in line with your personal code of conduct, if you're not hurting yourself or anyone else because of it, you're good to go. Proceed to enjoying!

("What if it feels like it's not in line with my personal code of conduct?" Then you've identified something you may want to work on, and that's a plan, too. Onwards!)

.

[threegoldfish]

... Oh. All of that - everything that doctor Harrow just said to him - makes perfect sense.

And it causes Steven to blink a few times as the newly gained information is being processed inside his brain, letting out a breath, followed by a nod, thoughtful in nature. That hand rubs along his neck once more, almost as if wanting to make sure that his beloved piece of jewelry is truly gone, then it finally slips away... accompanied with another nod, dark eyes flicking to the side before finding their way back to the other.

"O-okay, alright, yeah, that... sounds plausible. Thank goodness I didn't lose it! Would be a shame, really... a big one. Just got memories attached, all of that, y'know? I could buy a new one, but it's not the same - not at all." Harrow must understand the sentimental value an item can have, after all... right? Yeah, Steven's sure he does.

Another nod, a softer smile appearing, before one more gaze is thrown at the library; Gosh, there's so many books there, all the colors so very enticing, luring him in...

"---Thank you, again, for... allowing me to be here. Doing the paperwork and all!" A chuckle, a shrug. "And for guiding me over! Knowing how bloody clumsy I can be, I'd probably have spent hours trying to find the library... y-yeah, anyways. Again, thank you, and... have a nice evening then, I guess? I'll... I'll keep that in mind, all of that, yeah!"

Another nod, a lift of a hand, a wave - yes, Steven's waving at the doctor in a brief gesture, innocent and pure - before he then turns and immediately rushes over to the bookshelves, excited like a kid being allowed to roam through a candy store.

--

It's really not that bad to be stuck inside this place, all things considered - at least that's what Steven continues to think once the evening and night have passed, going through the second day with ease.

He's being served breakfast, lunch and dinner, he's allowed to visit the library, he can join others to solve puzzles or do some art - and he can visit the garden! That's a lot of stuff he can do to keep himself occupied, right? Granted, Steven's not really participating in either of those group-activities - prefers to stay by himself, despite craving the social contact all the same - but he does end up going out for a second time, with another caretaker who seems to be just as delighted to be able to leave the community rooms as Steven himself is.

Perhaps that's enough for him, to get to talk to one other person for the whole of the day. It's lovely, after all - they're even sharing some plant-knowledge there, Steven's definitely having a blast and his need for social interaction is successfully sated.

---And the library? Oh, that's certainly his new favorite place, with it being so comfortable, warm and colorful! He's spending most of the day there, reading himself through a variety of different books; He's even finding some stuff about ancient Egypt, his most favorite topic of all the ones he's interested in, and that blue couch continues to hold his weight for hours upon hours, with him not really wanting to go away anytime soon.

He has to, at some point, though - eats his dinner, even enjoys a cup of chocolate pudding once he's done with the main course, and then makes his way back into his room; He wished he could decorate it somehow, but... he doesn't know how. Has no personal belongings with him, does not own anything he could put up to look at... so the walls remain white. The floor remains white. The bedsheets remain white.

That journal still sits on top of that desk, untouched. Should he write something into it? Steven thinks about it for a little while, but then decides to hit the hay early; Even though he's not really doing too much, he's always outright knackered at the end of the day. Perhaps it has to do with his sleep-walking? No one mentioned anything to him regarding that issue, though... so, perhaps he's just naturally tired, then...

--

...When Marc awakes, he finds himself lying in his bed.

Or rather, the bed that's been given to him by the psychiatric hospital he's been admitted to.

He blinks a few times, stares up at the ceiling, brows knitting as his brain starts to wake up for the day; Something's off, something doesn't fit quite right. It takes a moment for him to figure it out - he feels a bit dizzy, a bit out of it, but as soon as his own memories come back to him, he sits up straight, whips his head around, looks down at himself.

Wait. Wait a minute---

The last thing Marc remembers is having met Harrow, right? Done one of those stupid meetings of his. Therapy sessions, whatever. Yeah, he remembers that one. Remembers having taken a seat on that chair, having talked to that guy about stuff, about... about what had happened---

But now Marc's here. He's here, he's not at the guy's stupid white office. He's here and he's missing some information there he should have access to, which causes him to basically jump out of bed and look around once more.

Journal? Still there. Pen? Still there. He himself is dressed in those stupid white pajamas, and he seems to be fine. Okay. But... but what happened to him? What happened after the therapy session? Is he just being stupid here, is his own mind playing tricks on him, or---

...---Or did they sedate him, because he thinks he remembers having spiraled there for a moment or two, right? Marc thinks he remembers having felt overwhelmed with everything, not wanting to talk to that doctor about what he has supposedly done - or what he'd felt like, back when it had happened.

Very much unhappy with the fact that he cannot remember - similar to how he cannot remember having done that thing that brought him here in the first place - Marc changes into those every day clothes within a minute and a half, just throwing his pajamas onto the bed before he pushes the door to the hallway open, looking left and right. A caretaker happens to be there, probably on his way to go somewhere---

And Marc takes his chance, stops that guy, tells him that he needs to see doctor Harrow right now. And yes, Marc is angry, but also confused, a bit terrified perhaps - a dangerous mixture of emotions threatening to break free at any second.

Arthur paused just long enough to look, watching as the man ran his hand over the back of his neck. He couldn’t help his fascination at the man asking about the necklace, if only because it seemed to be such an odd thing for him to ask about; it meant, immediately, that he did share memories with Marc. That, or this mental state had happened before, and held onto memories such as that; it was an odd thing, but it was a fascinating one. 

Everything about Marc Spector was fascinating. 

“You didn’t lose it,” he promised, his expression softening. “Anything that you come in with - clothes, jewelry, phones, wallets - all of it is removed and logged, stored. Anything metal is taken, and necklaces can be a known risk. Some of the patients in here are in less than ideal states, and we don’t want anyone to have anything that could be used as a weapon - it’s just a precaution.” 

It was true, as upsetting as it likely was. Arthur understood why some people compared this place to a prison, when there were so many rules and regulations; losing personal items in a place like this was a difficult thing to have to work through. 

“You’ll get it back, once you’re cleared to have it. That might mean in a week or two, when we have proof that you aren’t a danger to yourself - but it’s still yours. And you’ll get it back at some point, even if we can’t give it back as soon as you might want.” 

Any item with potential ligature risk, sharp edges, or even made of metal was held for a bit longer than most things; and unless Marc was able to go for a while without signs of dissociation or confusion, giving it back would be a poor choice. 

He stepped back, gesturing gently to the library with the hand that wasn’t on his cane. “Go on. Take a look. I’ll wait a moment in case you have questions, and then I’ll leave you to it. If anything feels off, feel free to come by my office. I’m here until eight, Monday through Friday, and you can request to talk to me anytime. Even if I’m not here, just ask for me - I can be here in less than a half-hour.” 

[devilssacrament]

50. „putting a hand over each other’s mouth to shut them up“ from the touching category of the touch prompts for WillMack?

nona heyyyyy 🥰 thank you so much for the prompt!!

okay so I know in the tags of the prompt list I said I was going to keep these under 500 words. a strategic error on my part I will admit. it's under 1000 words though!! I'm counting that as a success. not to mention that I got this written in a timely manner for once in my life

sorry for the long ramble. please enjoy ❤️

It’s dark in the supply closet Mack slipped into not too long ago, his breath the only thing giving his position away – that is, if someone were to walk into the closet and listen closely enough. There is enough space for a few guys in here but not quite enough for the entire team, a miscalculation on his part that he can’t correct now that his time is up. If he left now, he would undoubtedly be caught, the rest of the team most definitely already rushing through the innards of the arena, yelling and laughing, looking for him. 

He doesn’t remember whose idea it had been, only knows that Will had immediately grinned at the suggestion, slapping Mack’s thigh in excitement as he loudly declared the after-practice activity to be Sardines. It had taken a moment to catch everyone up on the rules, but then they’d sent Mack out to hide and that was that. 

Mack shifts from one foot to the other, restlessness clawing at him already, the need to move like an itch under his skin that he can’t scratch. Maybe he should have protested when they’d made him the first sardine, but hindsight is 20/20 or whatever that saying is, so now he’s stuck in a supply closet, squinting in the pitch dark, listening intently to any sounds coming from outside the door. He sighs. 

“I hope someone finds me soon,” Mack mutters to himself, barely audible despite the oppressive silence in the room.

Shifting his body, he tries to figure out if it’s a good idea to sit down without seeing anything, when the sound of footsteps outside makes him freeze. He listens, holding his breath as he slowly inches away from the door and closer to the shelves he thinks must be somewhere to his right. The footsteps stop and with it, Mack’s heart. His hand makes contact with a shelf, a rickety thing, the surface rough against his palm when he carefully pulls himself closer to the wall, away from the closet door. There’s a creak to his right, the only warning he gets before the shelf tilts, in which direction he isn’t quite sure, and then the crashing sound of – things – hitting the ground.

“Fuck, shit! Fuck!” he curses under his breath, trying to stay quiet but knowing he’s busted. 

The door opens, throwing a long cone of light into the otherwise dark room. He freezes, wincing when the last roll of what he can now identify as stick tape drops to the floor. Before he can check who just found his hiding spot, the door closes again with a soft click, casting them in darkness once more.

“Dude, have you never played hide and seek?” Will’s amused voice reaches him. “You’re supposed to be quiet so nobody finds you.”

Mack’s head wips to the side even though he knows he won’t be able to see Will, his eyes desperately searching for his outline in the dark. 

“Shut the fuck up. I know how to play hide and seek,” Mack bites out, letting go of the shelf and turning his body towards the closed door. “It’s not my fault–”

His annoyed rant gets stopped by Will’s hand on his mouth. Taking a breath, he swallows, wondering how Will had gotten this close to him without making a sound. Will’s palm is warm against his face, his thumb tapping gently against his chin. Mack can feel his heart in his throat, indignation at being silenced warring with the nervousness of being so close to Will in the dark supply closet. He’s torn between pushing Will’s hand away and doing something ill-advised, like pulling him closer and replacing Will’s hand with his mouth. 

Before he can make a decision, Will presses closer, so close that Mack can feel his breath on his face, his back pressing uncomfortably against the rickety shelf behind him. 

“Stay quiet,” Will whispers, his breath ghosting over Mack’s face. “I think I heard steps.”

Mack listens, but aside from the rushing of his blood in his ears, he can’t hear anything. Despite Will’s command to be quiet, he doesn’t heed his own words.

“I can’t let us be found yet. Not before I–” he stops himself, his body going rigid for a moment. 

Suddenly, the door to the supply closet opens, the light enough to throw Will’s face into stark contrast. Their eyes meet, a wordless understanding passing between them as they hold their breaths. 

“This shit would be way easier if we were allowed to use flashlights,” Thrunner mutters from the doorway, squinting into the darkness of the room. 

He lets his gaze drift from left to right, his eyes moving over to the corner where Will and Mack are pressed to the shelf, not breathing, their eyes wide. Over Will’s shoulder, Mack makes eye contact with him, Thrunner’s eyebrows rising on his forehead as he takes in their compromising position. For a second, Mack sees his life flash before his eyes, the embarrassment of the situation almost too much. But then, much to his surprise, Thrunner shrugs, turns around and pulls the door closed behind himself.

Mack takes a deep breath through his nose, his eyes flicking back to Will, whose face is back to being hidden in darkness.

Will clears his throat, pulling his hand away from Mack’s mouth to cup his cheek, and says, “Now, where was I?”

Even if there had been any clever retort on the tip of his tongue, Will doesn’t give him the chance to even blink before he closes the small distance between them and kisses Mack.

send me prompts from this list

[kleinv01]

Yknow what i noticed?

(QUICK THEORY WHILE IM WAITING FOR MY SHEETMASK DO TO ITS THING. SPOILERS AHEAD)

In this blog, only Al's info is hidden (with error mesaages or straight up blurred/pixelated text).

Who made Klein? SentientTechLabs.

What's this ask box's name THAT IS HIDING AL'S INFO? SentientTechLabs.

So. If the company is hiding his info specifically, wouldnt that mean he has some sort of control over it? Idk, maybe hacking through it OR working for it?

We know Al is a very tired, hardworking and busy boy (and we love him for it <3). But sometimes it makes me think: we work in the same company, and so are our friends. So far, they all seem kinda... chill? While Al is over there sleeping on his desk (probably from exhaustion?).

Dolores gives Al extra tasks. Sure. But he did NOT say "How ARE the TASKS going?". So it's a singular task at a time. Which should be nothing if we think about how intelligent Al is.

What im trying to imply here is; i feel like he has a 2nd job!

Remember the poll where the question was about how Al gets the money to treat us the snacks (of which the most popular answer was "totally not sus activities" :))

Could these sussy wussy activities be about his relation to Klein's company, which probably lets him do some extra stuff to our Klein?

------

The shadow behind our curtains. I %100 believe that, they are all Klein.

Why? Well... :3

When Yael comes in our house to make us eat the cupcakes he made, there is the shadow waiting behind the curtains. Yael eventually leaves AND THE MINUTE HE DOES, the shadow leaves too. Then, Klein gets mad at us and tells us that we should have just choked on "those" cupcakes. He also talks about Yael himself, as if he was able to see Yael in person in that moment. I feel like that's just one of the clues though.

Klein shouldnt be able to walk around in our world unless he has a physical model, according to the info given. But even if the player never reaches the "100% affinity" with him, Sera still gets killed by him. He cant smash someone's head to a glass cabinet (?) if he's stuck in our phone though. So maybe, he either escaped the factory, or... Al helped him get out?

Hear me out on this.

Al is insecure as hell. He doesn't see himself as "worthy" or "good enough" for us. There were multiple asks AND a few messages we received in the game about how hateful he is toward himself.

Klein is the pure opposite of what he is though. Strong, tall body, programmed to be the perfect partner, adaptable, uncapable of getting tired and many more positive qualities. Things that Al could see as something "good enough" to be with us, at least to protect us.

So, my theory is that; Al somehow modified Klein for our safety. He somehow reflected (coded?) his obsessive feelings to Klein, which made him the way he is right now.

This would also allow him to have access to whatever Klein has access to, which was our passwords and address at some point. (Not that i dont think al didnt already have that info but :3)

Again, this is just a theory (and a ramble session :p) so idk if anything is precise or even close to the truth. I guess we will see in the future.

(my mask feels like a desert now ;-;)

://SYSTEM_MESSAGE_ANSWERED !

Sharing this so everybody can read it and share their own thoughts in reblogs or comments. Thank you for dropping in such a lengthy discussion! I always enjoyed reading through theories and asks.

Just so people know, things like these are probably one of the most popular theories out there, relating to both Al and Klein

You're right that Al is insecure as heck. He can't even bring himself to look at you in the eyes, not without his bangs covering his eyes

As well as, very, extremely low self-esteem

[leggerefiore]

cw: Giratina Volo, jealousy, fluff,

pairing: Volo/Reader

The shadowy tendrils wrapped around you tightly. There was a horrible dissonance in their physicality in restraining you yet their airy, inhuman feel. Glowing crimson claws at the end held your attention more in the end. One dug into your skin, not daring to pierce the skin, but just enough pressure to keep your mind on its presence. You felt a shaky breath escape you. This predicament would almost feel like death to anyone else, you knew.

The tendrils spread from the back of what appeared to be an otherwise normal man if one ignored the lower half of his body and those terrifying eyes alongside the golden scales that clung to his chest. What had gotten him in such a mood? Nearly everything did. It was little wonder he was banished to this hellish world where time flows oddly and space is disordered. It was a punishment for something he had done to Arceus, but that was a topic you dared not breach. He was already capricious enough. You sighed.

“Volo,” you called out to him. Those eyes stared even more through you. Really… You had gotten too close to a rift out of this dimension, and he took it as you were trying to leave him. You knew how lonely he was, being stuck here with no company for what must have been an amount of time incomprehensible to your mind, but… Really, his possessiveness knew no bounds. It did not matter that he was a dragon at his heart, either. He gaze refused to shift.

“I was simply curious,” you offered, “I promised you long ago that I wouldn't leave you.” How much time had passed since you first ended up in the arms of the Renegade Pokémon? You had not the faintest idea. Time did not function here normally. Peeks at the outside world through reflections rarely provided you enough information to truly know. It was just you and the Giratina hybrid. That was all there was.

He brought a hand to your face, the chill of his skin always catching you off-guard. Leaning in close, you could feel the eldritch aura ruminating from him. He was unknowable as they came. A being that existed in another world that activity dismantled the normal one with his very presence. But… You did love him. He truly gave everything you could ever desire in what must have been his own personal hell.

You lived far more comfortably here than you ever had in the world you originated from. Maybe that was what drew you to that cave, despite the rumours of disappearances. He had taken those foolish enough to wander into the depths of his cave. Where they went after, you opted against asking about. There was a feeling in your heart, though. Dragons were quite carnivorous.

Your pleas for a better life are what had caught his interest. When the banished deity appeared before you, you actually fell to your knees and bowed deeply. It was likely a fickle decision of his to spare you whatever awful face he had subjected others to, but he took you away to his dimension.

The distorted world was a comfort.

You just grew curious about the normal world. How had it changed? Had it changed at all? You wondered.

Though, part of what you promised to Volo... Your eternal devotion and entire being for comfort and safety. Closing your eyes, you knew it was not a bad choice. When faced with the risk of famine and disease or being mauled by a savage, unruly pokemon, the safety of an unknown world was preferred. Volo's protection was something you would rather not lose, for various reasons.

“… I'm aware,” he replied and placed you down on a floating ground piece. The endless distortion of this world may drive one to madness should they pay too much attention to how things functioned. You wondered if you would be able to walk with normal gravity sometimes. Volo landed beside you, his serpentine lower body laying across the oddly coloured ground. “Some of those portals lead to places in different worlds and timelines than the one you originated from,” he said simply, “… Or are you that discontented now that you are ready to flee to any place away from me?”

You approached him, easily find your arms around his neck. The skin was marred between a near porcelain skin tone and the eerie grey of his scales. The hard golden ones – more like armour – on his chest pressed onto you. Your curiosity was boundless. He could not blame you. Even his often grew curious himself… You had seen him observing the normal world through reflections plenty of times. Your lips pressed to his own. His hands found your face again. The affection lasted for far too long.

Pulling away, he shifted his tail so that you may sit upon it. The Distortion World would always feel odd… But, it really was your home after all this time. Returning to the normal world had no long-term appeal for you. His arms wrapped around your waist as he held you to himself, no doubt trying to steal your natural mammalian warmth.

“My sole worshipper,” he referred to you, “… Do you truly still wish to uphold your covenant?”

“Of course,” you said simply, “I'll continue to be your mate.”

With that, his nature changed to something more mild. It seemed that you would be enjoying the other's company for quite a while.

[corseque]

I said I wouldn't write essays and would write fanfic instead, but here's a last one

I'm thinking about my clair obscur otp a lot and mentally exploring their dynamic because I'm trying to write fanfic about my otp. and after thinking about it, I don't think that Clea's observations about them and their relationship are necessarily completely correct just because she's an outside observer.

Clea is the kind of person who really deeply prioritizes total independence, and she's obsessed with perfection. She is canonically humiliated at the thought of being even a little bit wrong and mortified at even the slightest idea of needing help or being incapable. Like her mother, she is extremely skilled and proud, and so from the start, I think Clea finds the idea of her father helping her mother a little ridiculous. I don't think Clea could imagine being helped herself in that way, so she doesn't imagine her father could help her mother. Clea declares very firmly that the way they need to work through their grief is in a very Clea kind of way, the only way that Clea understands working through grief - they need to somehow work through their grief completely alone and THEN talk to each other....

I mean, I guess, but it sounds like the advice of an extremely independent single woman who is terrified and mortified of leaning on others.

Renoir, in the letter that he wrote that you find in his room, says that he would greatly prefer mourning WITH his wife and not mourning alone, and it seems like he couldn't get on with processing his feelings when he actively felt the other people in his family dying or isolating unhealthily. Like, I get that much more - how could he concentrate on himself the way Clea says, or watch his wife just fade more and more and do nothing? So already, his wanting to pull together WITH his family in grief seems different than what Clea would ever choose for herself.

I think deep in my soul that Renoir was right, maybe not in every single detail, but at least in his fear being justified and his strategy and method needing to happen for Aline to ultimately live through the events of the story. Because they BARELY got her out of there even after doing EVERYTHING they could for 67 years. So to me, he was right to be so adamant from the very beginning.

I think it's a little bit Clea believing in her mother's competence to think that she needed absolutely no help whatsoever and she could have come back out on her own. Clea seemingly has not experienced what Renoir has experienced, almost being lost in a Canvas, and though she must be aware of the dangers, Renoir is better able to see the signs and make that judgment call, even while being afraid and maybe jumping the gun a tiny bit for his own personal reasons.

Maybe Clea is a bit right because while they were in the Canvas, they WERE processing their grief on their own and isolated, but I think it was important to Aline to know that Renoir WAS there, that she could feel his presence and she was reminded that he was still fighting and struggling for her.

Aline did paint her version of Renoir to always loyally guard her and never be far from her, to protect their house and to cushion her in her grief. She completely stopped talking to her family, but she still needed them to be with her.

And I think it was important for Renoir to have something to fight for, something to determinedly cling to as he spent 67 years alone and thinking deeply about his family and processing his own grief.

I just don't see how the narrative concludes that Renoir's fear was selfish or unjustified when, even after doing everything they possibly could to get her out, they still just barely seemed to get her out right at the edge of death. To me, that implies that she WOULD have died had they done ANY LESS than they did, which justifies Renoir and proves his reaction toward her being in the canvas was totally rational.

Now, I agree with his characterization being one driven by being terrified of losing more family and going to extremes to prevent that, but the story didn't prove to me that the extremes were unnecessary. Like, he was driven by fear, but his judgment seemed ultimately sound. And I think that part of it was echoed by how he dealt with Alicia in the canvas - even in his fear that makes him raise his voice, he still listens carefully.

anyway long story short - I think that Clea was also speaking from her own point of view and not objective reality, and I think that's proven because Renoir's fears were ultimately justified by the story. So I think Renoir was right and Clea was wrong in saying they were just being dramatic and overreacting and causing problems on purpose. The problems were real and Renoir was doing the best he could. And I think that Aline needed him to do what he did as well. I think she would have definitely died without her husband's help. And I think that they would not have recovered as a couple if Renoir had left her alone to process it alone, I think she needed Renoir there as a continuous pressure so she knew she wasn't actually alone.

this is way too long I'm just talking to myself here lmfao

[saras-almanac]

2023 - October-December - In October, Aaron returns to the village after being kidnapped by Cain and his new uncle Caleb for getting involved with the Italian mafia. Aaron is still fuming at Chas for what she did to Paddy--despite everyone knowing now and Al being dead--and that he still blames Chas for Liv's death, Aaron takes it out on everyone in the village: bullying Vinny, threatening and beating up Billy, and actually sleeping with Ethan (the vicar Charles's son) just to humiliate Ethan in front of everyone to get back at Charles and Chas for scolding him. Things come to a head when Chas finally tells Aaron off and says that until he's better in control of himself, the entire family--her, Paddy, and Eve--want nothing to do with them. Though still a little off, they do all make up around Christmas. More details under the cut (NOTE: These bullet lists are just my memories so things are not going to be word-perfect)

Holy shit was this hard to sit through--and that's coming from a Robert girlie. But Aaron actively sucks in this storyline. I think they were trying to go for depth--he's grieving Robert still and definitely Liv and blaming Chas for her death--but it's all just a bit over-the-top for me. It's just constant circles with Aaron and Chas were Chas tells him he's being awful and Aaron tells her she's the worst. I actually think there could have been something really interesting here if they'd let Aaron go a little deeper with his emotions, but as they didn't know what else to do with him, they just brought him back furious at everyone and everything and then just... did nothing with it. (Though we still have an entire year and fauxbert to go so...)

Also the weirdest thing.... I actually liked Paddy in these few months of 2023... I feel insane. He actually was a voice of reason and was trying his best to actually be there for Aaron and for Chas and just generally didn't annoy me. (Which should speak volumes for how annoying Chas and Aaron were)

Aaron turns up locked up in a room on Wylie's farm to the shock of Moira -- Turns out Aaron stole from the Italian mafia and cause Cain's Cain (I guess) he found out and so him and Caleb (new / old half-brother) go and kidnap Aaron to force him to hideout. Though Aaron claims it's a setup, they find the money in his bag which they then use as ransom to get Chas back from other mob people? (Honestly, super lost the plot on this one)

A still furious Aaron gets Vinny to get him out the room and hunts Cain down for the money, even threatening to run him over and let his mother be killed rather than stick around in the village and loose his money (Honestly... this parallel to early Robert could have also been interesting but it's all just so one-note and flat.)

Meeting up with Paddy--who's now with Mandy--and his little sister Eve, Aaron decides to stick around the village but continues to rage against everyone

Aaron threatens Cain to give him back his 30k or he will ruin his life

Aaron calls Chas ever name in the book (which was entertaining the first time but after a while, the fun really got taken out) -- Aaron literally tells her she should have never been a mother and Chas retaliates that she might not have had kids if she'd known he was be such a monster

Aaron starts bullying and threatening Vinny--who now mostly owns the scrapyard and the Mill--demanding money. When Vinny stands up for himself, Aaron lashes out at him and physically attacks him. Mandy finds out and goes to confront Aaron, telling him off and setting him straight (which was honestly the highlight of the season for me. Mandy is similar to Chas in always wanting to protect her son and maybe goes a little above than she should, but as soon as Vinny comes and finds out he sets up a firm boundary which was really refreshing to see) and the two eventually sort things out and come to amends

Aaron's next target is Billy -- his bully from prison that we learned of in 2018 I think?? The two have mostly just kept to themselves but Billy is trying to steer clear of Aaron who is desperate for anyone to fight back at him. Billy tries to find common ground about how he's turned his life around with his kids after prison by not being angry at everyone and everything and Aaron could do it to if he actually wanted to put in the effort

Things get heated between them when they're at the playground with the kids and Billy's son (I wanna say Theo? I honestly have no idea) accidentally his Eve (Aaron's little sister) when they're playing and Aaron immediately jumps on this 5-6 year old kid

Dawn -- who's married to Billy currently -- tells Billy to just not rise to the bait and he does try that until Aaron corners him in the shop and starts threatening and berating him for being weak in front of his kids and how his kids won't be proud of him, resulting in a few punches thrown between them.

When they see each other at the pub again a few days later, Aaron makes fun of the bruises on Billy's face, which Billy lands some incredible hits in with saying that he feels sorry for Aaron because he has absolutely no one in his life, no friends or family, and is going to stay this bitter lonely person

SIDE NOTE: Robert mention from Victoria at a certain point who seems to be the only person actually speaking to Aaron besides Eve and Paddy at this point. She's dating Jacob -- which WTF was this choice--and that's apparently AFTER she was David (Jacob's dad) which on the one hand, awful since Jacob was literally in a grooming storyline years ago and I know he's a young man now but like, no thank you. But also hilarious that all Sugdens just follow family trees lol. ANYWAYS -- she's saying she really loves Jacob and Aaron tells if she feels like that than wait for him, which leads to her mentioning that Robert's doing okay, which Aaron immediately brushes off

But we can't have nice things for long, so Aaron is immediately back at Chas for everything, calling her a slag and slapper to her face in front of the vicar Charles because she didn't have her phone to answer a call from the school that Eve was sick and needed to come home. He accuses her of always abandoning her kids for a man, which Charles takes offense to and tells Aaron to apologize

Instead of apologizing, Aaron goes to find Charles's son Ethan and convinces him to hook up with him for company. Ethan has a good time and was interested in maybe seeing more of Aaron, only for Aaron to turn up at the Woolpack and make fun of Ethan in front of everyone for being horrible in bed and pathetic -- all to get back at Charles for daring to tell Aaron he should maybe mind his tone a bit?

That's sort of the last straw for Chas and Paddy and Aaron's anger. Chas goes to talk to Aaron and tells him that they're all done with him and he's not allowed to see Eve any more either, which is the first thing to sort of get through to him

In true Emmerdale fashion, nothing really gets fixed through actual effort, but rather quickly brushed under the rug when Aaron freaks out that she might have been involved in a shooting and rushes to the police station to find out anything he can. They sort of reunite, but it's still pretty clearly things are not great between them

Sam ends up beating up the guy who raped Lydia -- this is the who-dun-it / Soap week special for this year. I think it's an interesting concept, but it was literally all the Dingles sat around at the pub giving their alibis and as the #1 Dingle hater, I hated it cause I don't give a shit about most of the Dingles to be honest. Lydia was incredibly disappointed, but Aaron was at the forefront of just trying to get everyone to go and beat this guy up

Charity and Mack are in a relationship, which is what ends up causing whatever situation Chas was involved in -- This leads to Mack losing his newborn son when the kid's mother takes him away to protect him from Charity. Seems like Mack and Charity are married, likely having problems, and Mack's kid is from an affair / one-night stand situation.

Oh and Kyle shot Al when he saw Al and Cain fighting, but Cain took the blame for it, though having a loaded weapon around is on the adults I would say

And that's what you missed on Aaron's storyline in 2023. 2024 will likely be multiple parts because it's potentially a lot since it's a full year, but maybe not lol

And that's what you missed for Aaron's storyline in October-December. Gonna work on just Aaron from 2024 but my god am I already tired and bored of the Dingles. Might start watching 2024 stuff cause I am desperate for literally anything other than the Dingles. But that is also about 300 episodes just for that year... so maybe I'll start with 2025 watching fully episodes. I don't know. but since 2022 and 2023 were brief visits and three months all together, that was all right to get through. We'll see

Aaron Dingle - Emmerdale Catch Up Post

In case people wanted to know what this mess was like and don't want to invest in watching through previous seasons / youtube clips, I figured I'd do a quick run down for everyone. (I have been just watching Aaron clips but when I get caught up here, I'm planning on going back and watching actual episodes just because I have no idea what's happening in this village and unfortunately for me, my favorite characters are hardly ever featured in Aaron storylines)

2022 - October - Aaron returns for a short stint in time to make up with Liv for running out on her when she was up for a murder charge, spend some time with his Gran Faith before she passed away, become furious with Chas for cheating on Paddy, and then to say goodbye to Liv when she dies after a fatal accident in the brutal storm that swept through the village. More details under the cut

Aaron returns back to Emmerdale after an undisclosed amount of time away, surprising his little sister Liv who he ran off on when she was facing a potential murder charge for the death of Kayak Boy Ben.

Vinny and Liv, now married and living in the Mill convince Aaron to stick around--even inviting his Italian boyfriend Marco to move in too, but those plans are immediately thwarted when Aaron finds out Chas is having an affair with Al--the man who was trying buy all the property around and generally harassing the villagers from what I remember. (Pot meet kettle there, Chas)

Aaron is especially furious that Chas would cheat on Paddy AGAIN while they're married and have little Eve at home -- not to mention the fact that Al is in a relationship with Kerry and even gets engaged to her -- so he demands Chas never see Al again or come clean to Paddy

Chas has been run ragged taking care of Faith who has been diagnosed with terminal cancer. (Though Paddy has also been there helping with the pub, Faith, Chas, Eve, and everything else) Chas claims to Aaron that she started with Al because she needed a release or distraction. After witnessing a terrible episode with Faith and seeing how much stress Chas is under, Aaron agrees to keep quiet from Paddy but demands Chas stop seeing Al

Though she agrees to stop seeing Al, Chas does not (again, pot meet kettle) since the two have a plan to run away together, unbeknownst to everyone else in the village.

Aaron catches them together again and he becomes so furious he decides to leave Emmerdale, telling Liv that she has her own life and he needs to find his own, upsetting Liv again

Though they briefly make up and make plans for Vinny and Liv to go and visit Aaron and Marco in Italy, Liv is killed shortly after when she goes out into the storm and is run over by an unsecured caravan (literally who is doing it like this lol) -- which Liv only leaves the Mill in order to go and watch Eve in the pub when they find out that Chas was taken to the hospital

When Aaron finds out that Chas was with Al and that's why she was hurt and why Liv went out into the storm, Aaron lashes out at Chas and decides to leave the village entirely, unable to spend another minute there with Chas

They have a joint funeral and memorial for Liv and Faith--who had taken her own life only a few days before on holiday with her family rather than wait for the end of her life from the cancer. And after the funeral, Aaron leaves Emmedale behind for "good"