#to do fuck all and just recover mentally from what the last few years have been

[strike-another-match]

my brain is broken broken i literally just had the thought that im looking forward to hearing the christmas music this year. girl its january 2nd go see a neurologist

#i joke a lot about having no concept of time but sometimes it is actually a bit scary #i want to chalk it up to the fact that i normally spend holiday periods working on projects so i dont participate in celebrations much #i think im gonna do myself a favor and stop overburdening myself with work once im done with this project i have to turn in on march #i do wanna pass my uni classes in september too but once thats over i wont sign up for more stuff to do outside of work #for a couple years at least #or my head is gonna explode #do you want a me/cfs relapse? this is how you get a me/cfs relapse #hell maybe ill even take a year off work in 2026 #to do fuck all and just recover mentally from what the last few years have been #when i say i havent stopped for a minute i mean it #my job has never crunched me im just incapable of not filling every waking hour with projects classes and stuff #its on me 100% i need to stop

[thebibliosphere]

In case you were wondering how deep down the Batfam fixation hole I am, it's something I've actually been talking about in therapy a lot.

Not like, in a worried way, more just when my therapist asks me what I'm doing in my downtime, my answer always used to be either "sleeping" or "I don't have downtime. I have too much work to do."

Now my answer is "playing my Batman game" or "watching Batman show/reading comics/writing unhinged Batman x Muppet fanfic."

And my therapist is delighted. She's fucking ecstatic. She's like, "You have interests again!" and I'm like !!!! Because here's the thing.

Almost dying in 2019 kinda irrevocably fucked up my brain, like, a lot. Like a lot, a lot. And I've been grieving over that for the last few years as well as recovering from the physical aspects of it. And to cope with it, I threw myself into work even though I wasn't physically or mentally well enough, and that made everything worse, and well, if you've been here, you know.

My brain has not been kind to me for a long time. It still isn't. But I do the work. I do multiple types of therapy a week. I piece myself back together on the daily and try to remember what it means to be human and not just this numb static void that sometimes sounds like shrieking if you listen too closely.

And then randomly, a few months ago a friend bought me Gotham Knights on Steam, and it was like a light turned back on. The engine that'd been refusing to turn over for years suddenly sputtered back to life, and something in my brain went, "Hey, I remember this... this is fun?"

And then I started tentatively searching the tags here on Tumblr, and yeah, actually. I remember this. I remember enjoying this. I can dip my toes into this. This is safe. This is a childhood interest from Before the almost-dying-trauma. And besides, it won't get in the way of my work. This isn't going to consume me. Nothing consumes me like it used to. I'm too broken for that.

Except, haha, jokes on me because, for some fucking reason, Brucie fucking Wayne and his gaggle of chaotic crime-fighting children is what reached into my brain, picked up my trauma, and started shaking it loose like a category 7 earthquake.

I actually laughed about that with my therapist a few weeks ago. Of all characters, of all pieces of media, it's Batman that's helping me process a significant chunk of my emotional trauma in a healthy way.

The most emotionally constipated vigilante in superhero existence, and I'm weeping like a child every time I get an achievement in Gotham Knights, and it says some bullshit like this:

ID: a purple steam achievement icon that says: He'd Be So Proud Of You. Reach the maximum level as any member of the Batman Family. 6.3% of players have this achievement. /end ID.

(for context, Batman is dead in this game, and you are playing as his emotionally devastated children trying to keep it together. Wailing, gnashing, crying, throwing up etc, etc.)

And my therapist, who has sat with me through EMDR sessions and a multitude of other shit designed to rewire your brain, just shrugs and says, "Sometimes we need to externalize our emotions through safe media. For you, right now, that safety is Batman having a relationship with the Muppets."

And like... okay, yeah. I'll take the win on that one.

#personal #batfam #emotional trauma #death mention #emotional damage #batmuppet

[yesimwriting]

I love ur felix fics sm!! ur one of my fave writers on here<<333 and no I don’t think itd b crazy to write for Nate!! I’d love to see how u would write him!! (Maybe grumpy x sunshine hehe)

hi!! this is such a nice ask :)) i'm so happy you like my felix fics

omg i love ur train of thought for a nate fic!! i've been thinking about that kind of dynamic for them, but in a really niche way

anyways let's have some thoughts on nate jacobs and sunshine/kind of sheltered reader!!

----

thinking about the moment in which you find out nate jacobs is your assigned partner for a project that's worth 35% of your final grade. if this was happening to you a year ago, maybe even two or three months ago, you might have been nervous for an entirely different reason.

but you're not that version of yourself anymore. you go out to parties now; you wear shirts to school that your mom buys for you the same way she used to buy you impulse barbies, with a wink as the cashier scans them, making you promise that you won't show dad what you got at the store; you're friends with maddy and cassie...you're on your way to best friends with maddy and cassie.

so you can't dismiss the gossip and the stares nate gets in the halls as a standard part of high school, not the way you used to. you can't just see him across the hall at his locker and mentally acknowledge that you get why girls talk about him the way they do. you can't just get paired up with him for an extremely long assignment and think oh, at least he's cute.

every story maddy's ever mentioned during sleepovers, everything she's teared up about after one too many drinks hits you at full force when your teacher reads your name and then his off of her list.

would she see this as a betrayal? it's not like you picked him and asking for a new partner is out of the question, a fact your teacher made clear at the beginning of the year. but maddy's loyal...fiercely loyal, and she expects that kind of commitment to be symbiotic.

you don't move, can't move until jules leans towards you, so close her hair spills onto your desk. "no fucking way." she whispers it in a way that'd make you laugh if this was about someone else.

you're silent, eyes finally pulling away from a brightly colored poster explaining the roles of each branch of the US government. you turn your head enough to look at where nate sits, the back of the room with a few other football players.

he's already looking at you. and when nate realizes you're finally staring back, he has the audacity to let the corner of his mouth pull into a smug sort of smile you're sure another version of you would have considered swoon worthy.

you're all instructed to use the last few minutes of class time to talk to your new partners, to make some kind of preliminary plan. nate's standing up and you're still recovering from the whiplash.

helplessly, you look over at jules who's clearly trying to get to the other side of the room before nate can get to you. she mouths a "sorry" that feels genuine, and points at the girl she's supposed to work with in a way that feels like over kill. you roll your eyes, picking up your pen and pressing the pad of thumb against its side to have something to do.

nate's in front of you before you know it. he's so tall it's a little intimidating when he's right there, especially with you still sitting. "you're everywhere now." a reference to the fact that you were both at the same party last weekend. you can still hear maddy's slurred i can't believe he's fucking here, before she dragged you out to the house's patio.

he's probably seen you more places. you're around maddy pretty regularly these days and from what you've heard, you wouldn't put stalking above him. he's probably a stalker in the way guys from the news are stalkers, calm and untouchable until they feel like the girl they're watching is moving on. then they snap and some news anchor reports that there were warning signs for months beforehand.

you're partially aware of your potential exaggerations, but you can't bring yourself to care. you've never really interacted with nate, but you want to hate him as more than the monster you hear about when maddy feels like ranting. you want to viscerally hate him. it's such an instinctual tug that you can't pretend it's all about morality. you're craving innate repulsion the way an elementary school girl wants the other half of a magnetic necklace with the word "best" etched into cheap metal. it's kind of pathetic, but then again...

"not last year, or last semester--"

he's baiting you and you're completely aware and you still can't help yourself. "what? it's illegal to make new friends now?"

your tone surprises you more than the fact that you interrupted him. you've never been overly shy, but you've also never been much of a fighter on your own behalf. maybe this is like the parties and barbie-style-bought-shirts, just another facet of the improved you.

nate seems surprised too, only he wears it like there's something funny about it. "no, you've always been friendly."

he says it like there's a joke in there that'd make the football players a few rows back laugh. it digs at you more than it should. he gets under your skin in a way that bugs. maybe that means genuine hatred is on its way.

you look up at him, eyes as unimpressed as you can manage. "so," the word is definite, intentional. "the project..." you're glad for the excuse to turn your attention back to your notebook, "i don't know if you want to work out a time to--"

"i'm leaving in like five minutes." you're about to point out that class doesn't end for another when he explains, "football game." ugh. another thing you can decide to be annoyed about. your homework schedule is now going to revolve around high school football. "can i get your number?" the idea of existing in nate jacobs's phone feels so wrong you can't immediately reply. he picks up on your hesitation, because he tacks on the one phrase that could get you to do anything, "35% of our grade."

you nod once, expression as blank as you can manage as you write out your phone number on the corner of a page. You tear off the bottom corner and hand it to him. "don't save my number."

it's so rude, your jaw almost drops, "what?"

"you're going to see maddy before the project's over, right?"

the implication immediately makes your stomach knot. you're not--you can't not tell maddy. she won't like it, but she can't hold a random partnering against you. and--and it's worse if you don't tell her, because then it's like you're sneaking around with nate. and it's--it's all for school.

"i'm not going to lie to her for you." it's so ridiculous, you can't even hold eye contact. his silence adds a second loop to the knot in your stomach. "why would i lie?" your own genuineness sickens you, you're backtracking immediately. "and--and it's just a dumb school thing, so she probably won't care that much."

"and you're sure she's going to believe that?"

"yes," the word is firm because it has to be. "because that's what it is."

"she gets paranoid."

no, no--he's doing this to get into your head and cause problems. "if she's paranoid it's because you're crazy."

"fine." he shoves the scrap of paper into his pocket. "save my number, don't save my number. tell maddy, don't tell maddy."

you sigh. "why do you care?" they're broken up...even if maddy takes it the wrong way, the fall out will be a you problem.

"she's going to think i fucked you to hurt her." you hate this--the situation, the conversation, the fact that you can't completely dismiss his train of thought. "who's known maddy longer?"

you're about to try again, to defend your friendship with maddy and call him crazy again when the static of the intercom speakers interrupts you. all football players are being called out of class to leave for an away game. nate gives you one last look before turning towards the door.

when jules slips back into her seat and asks if you're okay with everything, you nod and attempt a joke about catching fuck boy germs, but it doesn't come out the way you want it to. she still laughs, so you do too, but that's not as natural as it should be, either.

----

lmk if you like this concept/want more of it!! i had fun writing this :))

#euphoria x reader #nate jacobs x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader #nate jacobs

[likeadevils]

is there a specific order you like to listen to the red vault tracks in? i’ve been thinking about this a lot ever since 1989 tv came out because the 1989 vault tracks tell such a cohesive story so i’ve been trying to figure out how to do that with the red vault

YES ITS LIKE. THE ALBUM TO REARRANGE FOR ME I GENUINELY HAVENT LISTENED TO THE ORIGINAL TRACKLIST IN YEARS NOW

i think i’ve run through it before but here’s my thoughts on the mains tracklist

state of grace: perfect opener no notes

22: this is and holy ground can switch for me, i think either makes a fantastic track two, but it’s hard to pass up 22 track 2. also i like how the second song and the second to last song parallel each other

treacherous: building off of 22’s “you look like bad news, i gotta have you”

i knew you were trouble: it’s the obvious mirror of treacherous, and also i think it’s important to establish the emotion->exact opposite emotion flip of the tracklist, and treacherous and ikywt are a really obvious example of that

all too well: i mean what else can you choose. also it’s a good flip of ikywt because it’s all the moments where it DIDN'T feel like trouble

wanegbt: “i remember it all too well 😔” -> “I REMEMBER WHEN WE BROKE UP 😡🙄” is just an insane whiplash. ALSO track sixes are such a hard landing to stick and can easily be overshadowed by the track five, and having a song that’s already been released kinda lets the song simultaneously have its moment beforehand and let you kinda check out on your first listen through while you recover from atw

come back be here: i think cbbh really just deserves a main album slot, mostly cause it deserved to be played on tour, but i also think it’s a great whiplash from wanegbt and a great lead in to…

the last time: it takes the more crush-focused aspects of cbbh and plays them out to the bitter end, just that cycle of always leaving and coming back and leaving again. also it’s the end of the first half of the album

red: it’s a great pick me up in the middle of three mellow songs, also i can’t separate this from run which i can’t separate from sad beautiful tragic and i can’t put sad beautiful tragic right before all too well so it needs to be further down the tracklist

run: “loving him was like driving a new maserati down a dead end street” -> “give me the keys, i’ll bring the car back around” makes me go CRAZY

sad beautiful tragic: THE AMOUNT OF PARALLELS WITH RUN IS INSAAAAAAAANE

holy ground: again this is a bit of a floater like i could see an argument for this being track two. and the argument is it goes hard at the start of the red tour

better man: this just needs to be by the end of the album for me. it feels like the start of the summary, wrapping up what we’ve learned and starting the hard work of moving on that the last few tracks will continue

i bet you think about me: that first verse really stretching out the betterrrrr’s after better man is funny. also, after an album of one sided pining in one way or another, it’s just like hey. fuck you. also, at first it kinda bugged me how the last few tracks starts at 4am, then 3am, then the middle of the night, but then i started seeing them as just slowly losing less and less sleep over it, which i kinda love now

nothing new: here is the damage i am left with. even if i move on from this relationship, here is the mindset that will whisper in the back of my mind forever— that i am valuable because of my youth, that my happiness is mockable and my sadness is quaint. this is the thing that led me to the relationship and this is the thing that i will be left with after it

begin again: and then… begin again. choosing happiness, choosing maturity, choosing childlike joy. like, you all know it’s an amazing closer, but after nothing new it just sings

+ forever winter: i think this does add important context to her general mental state? like 22 mentions how everyone is miserable, but really focuses on the highs of being 22. forever winter adds to it, how your peer group is falling apart and even when you are at your worst, you are being someone else's shoulder to lean on. it's not Needed to tell the story, but it is a good bonus.

+ starlight: more good context, especially in taylor's personal life-- as far as i can tell, this is the first song she wrote for red that Wasn't about crash and burn heartbreak, and it really kicked into high gear an obsession with vintage fashion and mid century celebrities that she ended up building part of her personality around. she's not just trying to find her old self again, she's building a new one

+babe: what am i supposed to do, not end the album with this is the last time i'll ever call you babe?

+ state of grace (acoustic), the red demo, and all too well (ten minute version) to get the tracklist to 22 and also fun bts context!

#asks* #claire's versions*

[nicki0kaye]

random kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #3

I think getting him to socialize will be like pulling teeth. It obvs depends on how you interpret his few lines in season 4, but I don't think he was doing the bond villain voice as a joke when he greeted the Spectres. I think he's just like that.

And I think he knows it's off-putting, and is using that as a shield of sorts so he doesn't have to go too far into the unknown after entirely uprooting his life and leaving the Empire.

the explanation I always come back to is 'be what they expect', like that's his strategy within the Rebellion. This is important bc my main hc for Kallus is that everything about his presentation is fake. His accent and cadence was taken from the big bad in a show he liked as a tween. His only formal education is from the Academy, so he lacks a lot of standard knowledge others take for granted. He was an entirely different person before entering the Empire (though it was the Republic at his time of enlistment), and even though he's been in character for the last 20-ish years, there's nothing stopping him from constructing a new one. Nothing but himself and his goals.

Now there's also the comfort aspect. Creating a whole new life is terrifying, and I do think there's a measure of comfort he takes for having 'valid reasons' for not reinventing himself. He's also been shaped by the Empire (and his life before, as a gang lord's son) to expect the worst of people--to make formalities weapons, to always expect the knife in the back, to take any opportunity to tear someone else down so he can rise higher. That's created a paranoid, hyper-alert state re: other people, and the people of the Rebellion have every reason to distrust and ostracize him bc of his past as an ISB officer.

All of this is to say, 'be what they expect' is both a strategy to lessen the friction between him and the Rebellion, and also as a means of protecting his own sense of stability. Changing shit up now could draw unwanted attention, give Rebels cause to distrust his goals and intentions, call into question who he is what he's capable of, and ultimately would be taxing and anxiety inducing for him.

I think he's a proud guy who doesn't do shit in half measures, and that means taking 'failure' very seriously, including social failure. If he's a stuck up asshole ex-Imp, he's not gonna win anyone over, which means he won't feel bad or like he's fucked up if no one likes him much. He's setting himself up for failure as a means of controlling the situation, bc he is very out of his depths and hyper aware of what a mistake could cost.

that isn't to say I don't love hcs where he loosens the sphincter and genuinely tries to socialize and make nice, I fucking adore those, I just think getting him there would be a process. He's a recovering perfectionist, he's gonna need the help.

I also just...look, one of my criteria for imprinting on a character is how likely they are to sit there with a neutral expression while mentally furiously playing 4D chess against themselves and their perceived opponent re: literally any social interaction. I love the mfs who look like they have their shit together but in reality are one misstep away from a meltdown over 'failing' at being a human. It's the autistic people pleaser in me.

and I love the idea of that person being worth saving. That they can bond and find love and friendship and learn to be better at this shit. I like exploring that process, warts and all. I like forcing them to admit they need other people, they want other people, even if it scares them shitless.

There's a song from the musical Company called 'Being Alive' that reminds me a lot of what I feel is the core driving force for Kallus' change. It starts with the character more or less listing all the reasons love sucks, actually, but there's a turn midway where he starts begging for all these little inconveniences because; "Alone is alone, not alive"

And I think Kallus is deeply embarrassed that he feels that way. That for all the perfectly understandable reasons to hate the Empire, he ultimately changed because he was tired of being alone and wanted to be alive. So there's also this layer of penance and self-denial that is informed by his guilt for all he's done, but is ultimately him punishing himself for wanting something so selfish and being so 'weak'.

He hasn't earned friends yet. He doesn't deserve to be loved. He has so much evil to make up for, so much work to do, it'd just be a distraction, and worse a selfish distraction.

And there's reason to consider him an inherently selfish character, I think it should probably be applied to him more, it's a much more realistic take on him, but I personally prefer the obnoxious martyrism of it all. That he's able to flip his morals because they were, ultimately, a put-on anyway. That he is aware of right and wrong and his ability to empathize hasn't withered into nothing after years of violence and cruelty. And even if he can't feel empathy as strongly as he once could, he is at least hyper aware he now runs with a crowd that draws strength from empathy and needs to readjust himself accordingly.

So I guess even if he is still talking and acting like a bond villain, he is tailoring his words and actions to suit the Rebel's sensibilities. And I think he's hyper aware that's a choice--that other people (like Zeb) are just naturally care about the right things and treating others the right way. That he's already deceiving them in a way, which inherently makes him a two-faced liar, and it would just make things messy if he added to that deceit by acting personable and kind and understanding. It's so important the Rebels trust him, so important that they not question his intel and motivations, so it just makes sense that he not push too far and make it obvious he can be anyone. That he could mirror them perfectly, say exactly what they want to hear just how they want to hear it.

No one knows he's a fake person, so he has to keep the mask on. He has to stay in his little ex-imp box and put the real reasons he defected on the back-burner so that this under-funded, over-worked, run-on-shoe-laces-and-hope band of misfits don't die on his watch.

And i really like it when he's proven wrong, and forced to abandon the box and face the horrible ordeal of being known better than he knows himself.

#kallus #nik v sw

[genderfluid-insomniac]

A safe haven amidst the raging storm // Six-Eared Macaque x reader 

You were walking around, headphones pulled over your ears to try and provoke some sort of inspiration for your work-in-progress story that you worked on in between your work hours. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone that you recognized from a city-wide incident a while ago perched in a tree and munching on some over-ripe mango or some kind of fruit. He seemed to not have a care in the world and happily napped on a sturdy branch. You figured it wouldn’t hurt to say hi, if he left then you’d respect that but after seeing him at random intervals you wanted to get to know him more. 

Walking over to the big oak tree, you stopped in front of him and looked up (part of you whisper yelled at yourself what the fuck you were doing). “Hi Macaque! How are you?” His eyes gave you a once over before taking another bite of fruit before smirking. "Huh, you know my name! Not even many mortals know it, usually you're all screaming my name, or some kind of expletive." He chuckles, the sound deep and full.

He smiles at you, bowing as he does, and when he tilts his face to the side, for a second you could see six glowing multicolored ears. "I'm wonderful…how are you?" He asks, standing up straight and turning to face you properly, his tail twitches from behind him. You could tell that he didn’t fully let his guard down whatsoever which was fair and kept his eyes on you, quickly surveying the area around you and quirking up his eyebrow. 

“Of course, I know your name. You're the Six-Eared Macaque, you're pretty well known and if you wanted to hurt me something tells me you would've done so already.” Macaque stared thoughtfully for a moment before nodding silently and agreeing with you. He finished off the rest of the mango and tossed it into a small hole next to the base of the tree, shifting his body so he could see you better. Your expression turned sour a bit upon remembering the days earlier events and sighing in mental exhaustion.

 “As for the latter, I could be better. I had a nocturnal seizure this morning and I'm still recovering.” He cocks his head. He's quiet for a few seconds, then speaks. "Sorry to hear that." His voice is softer than his usual one. "You gonna be okay?" He asks, his tail twitching. The shadow demon's never shown this much emotion, or any emotion, for that matter in front of any mortal. You could tell he didn’t completely understand what a seizure was but he knew it wasn’t good and you could appreciate someone for once not asking a million questions about your disorder. “I'll be okay....probably. I have epilepsy so I'll have seizures for the rest of my life so it's a disability but I'm still able to do awesome things!”

For everything that had happened at the end of last year’s semester, a lot of good has come of it like new friends who also had seizure disorders and you now had great excuses as to why you were late or couldn’t work (which you totally wouldn’t abuse). At the mention of your mysterious skills, Macaque perked up and swung upside down using his tail to anchor himself to the thick branch he was sitting on. "Awesome things, like?" He asks curiously. He's genuinely curious, though he's trying to hide it. His tail twitches a little more, and he moves a little closer.

Blushing slightly as you thought of what to tell him and internally debating over being entirely truthful or telling a white lie to save your pride. You turned around and leaned your back against the tree so you were looking out onto the horizon slightly, spotting some dark gray clouds but hopefully nothing too bad. “Singing, writing, aerial arts, and playing my guitar! Just some stuff. I'm not athletic but I am more artistically inclined.” 

That couldn’t be truer since you’d rather play songs till your fingers went numb rather than be able to run a marathon and you had no intention of being ashamed of your opinion. He smiles. "Impressive! I like it. You know, I can't dance, can't sing, can't do any of that art stuff you were just talking about." He laughs, a deep and thundering chuckle. "So I respect the hell out of anyone who can." 

Yeah right, you’d heard whispers of a theater performance being performed by a certain demon with impressive and shadowy powers which gave you an idea of who it was. A few days after you’d moved here and asked some people for fun places to visit, they spoke of a nearby center that hosted plays or passing art performances of all genres that currently hosted a curious newcomer that had a velvet like voice. 

“I can't dance either, I'm terrible at it. Also, don't you perform fantastic shadow plays? I bet you have an amazing singing voice as well.” To say that it hadn’t entered your mind would be a lie and the thought of him singing Feeling Good by Micheal Bublé was now being pushed down into a vault that you’d never open again-

"Oh, you're just buttering me up!" He playfully nudges you with his elbow, his tail wagging happily and now back upward. You were jolted out of your thoughts by Macaque again and looked up at him softly chuckling before a soft smile crawled up on his face. "But I appreciate it, thank you. You have such a sweet disposition, I bet you could charm the pants off of anyone you want."

It did seem like you were trying to sweet talk him but that wasn’t your intention at all and seemed like you’d hit a wall in terms of trust and genuine praise. There was just something that made it seem like he was amused but kept himself at a distance from others. “I'm not trying to charm anyone. I'm just speaking the truth but thanks!” You hoped that maybe you could make a dent in that wall and be close to him since you didn’t know many others.  

"Well, you got me charmed." He teases, grinning. He turns a little serious. "Well, if you ever need anything, let me know. I'll help. I owe you that, at least." He offers you his hand and you shake it. Happy to see a joyful expression on his face and matching one with your own.

“I'm honored. Any plans for today?” You jokingly bowed and lowered your head in a dramatic fashion, hearing a laugh come from you both. Since it looks like a storm was going to roll in you’d have to change your plans and head back home sooner than you thought. 

Macaque smiles, a genuine smile, which for him usually just means a softer scowl, however it appears more funny to you than it should. He just looked so fluffy but you had a feeling you should keep it to yourself.  "No plans in particular, but I'll probably find something, you know how I am." He lets go of your hand, his tail still wagging (still so cute). "You? Got anything on your agenda?"

“I can guess, you seem resourceful.” A light breeze blew through both of you and in reaction his fur bristled or at least it might have been the wind. “I have to finish writing a story I started and I took a walk to try to get inspiration, which I did! Hopefully, the storm tonight won't be too bad so I can get a good chunk of it.” 

"Oh, what's the story about?" He looks genuinely curious, his tail still wagging. It's unusual for him to show this much interest in someone according to the few times you’ve seen him.  "And yeah, this storm's supposed to be real bad." 

Well so much for being productive, you might have to be sure your house doesn’t flood or your roommate will have your head. “Hm, in that case I'll try to hunker down for the evening to stay safe.” Both of you looked toward the ever growing storm and could see rain in the distance covering the outskirts of the city like a mist. “And the story?” 

How could you phrase your plot so it was easily understandable without losing the fun and adventure? You hummed to yourself and looked up at the branches blooming with leaves. “The story’s about a poet who's been absent from society for a long time and trying to find themselves while adjusting to modern-day life.....” As you ramble on about your book, he quietly listens and wonders how you’d feel about his own tales. 

"Sounds interesting! When you get it done, let me know, I'd be happy to read it." You can see that it takes a noticeable bit of effort for him to smile genuinely at you but it was nice to see a little chip in the wall. Baby steps. Thunder boomed in the distance and you were concerned if he had a place to stay. “Do you have a place to stay safe from the storm? I wouldn't want you to get hurt if I can help in any way.” 

The way he flinched whenever thunder reigned down, guessing it was because of his sensitive hearing and having six ears. Speaking of, you were very interested in what he looked like without magic masking what he wanted to hide. You looked closer at the red mask coloring his face and at his gold irises that reflected your surroundings, curling his lips into a smug grin as he caught your staring. "And I've got plenty of places to ride out the storm. How about you? You got a safe spot to stay?" 

Macaque didn’t know you too well but in the short time had grown fond of you, not to mention anyone would be concerned if someone they knew were left out in a storm. Since you were relatively new, it didn’t hurt to ask and provide shelter to a new spark in the otherwise dim city. You brightened up and zipped up your jacket when a gust of hot wind came through, almost like a warning sign of the upcoming weather. 

“Oh good I'm glad you have a place. I should have somewhere if my roommate doesn't lock me out but I can always hide out in a nearby store until it dies down.” Ever since you got here, your roommate was very cautious of the weather and anything that could cause damage to your cottage. He shakes his head, sighing. "I don't understand how people can be so cruel, to just lock someone out in bad weather." He scowls, his tail lowering. "If you get locked out, come to me, yeah? I'll help you out."

You nodded and smiled, thankful for a safe backup plan and a new friend. A cold drop of rain hit your face and another and another before it was sprinkling. Looks like it was time to get home before you were soaked, pulling the hood of your coat over your head and running off as you called back to the celestial primate. Thank you! I will! Get home safe!”

It only took about 15 minutes to get home and you could see your home in the distance. Later as the storm rolls in and raindrops are starting to fall on you running home. By now thunder loudly rumbles right on top of you as you jiggle the doorknob only for it to stay locked. 

“Fuck! Please, please. Don’t do this! Fuck.” The door to your house was still locked and doesn’t seem to be opening any time soon. By now the storm had started in full force and you were deserted outside in a dangerous storm, the wind pulling and pushing you around like a rag doll in addition to being pelted by rain. Your only option is to call for Macaque and hope he’ll help you, or even hear you with the loud thunder and city ambience but it was your only shot.

The more thunder echoes over the rooftops of the city while the lightning strikes back a response. The clouds blacken, and you can feel the wind getting even stronger. You know for a fact this storm is unlike anything you can imagine. Your phone vibrates with a text from an unsaved number. A single word flashes across your screen.

"SHELTER"

Your first thought is ‘how the fuck he did he get your number?’ but then you pushed your back against the wall and texted back.  “My roommate locked me out and secured the house. I can't get in! Help, please!” The moment you read the message a portal opens in front of you, and the dark shadow of Macaque extends his hand from the black void of the portal. "C'mon, hop in, I've got a safe place." 

His voice echoes from the portal, sounding much quieter and softer than his typical voice. A concerned tone came from him as he asked you to trust him and jump into the void of darkness to what you would guess would be his home. "C'mon! Do you wanna get sick?!" He waves his hand, encouraging you to jump into the portal. You hesitate at first but then jump in, allowing the cool energy of the shadows to engulf you and feeling your stomach flip upside down. “Alright. I trust you!”

You expect there to be a hard landing, but there's not- the portal just opens again, and you're standing in a large cavern, on a platform in said demon’s arms. Huge columns of rock tower above you, and light shines down from the entrance up above. "Here we are!" He declares, glancing around the cavern. It's very obviously Macaque's sanctuary, a place of power to him. He turns to you. "So?" He grins. "You like?"

You glance around in shock and awe, seeing some items strewn about like blankets and pillows as well as food in wooden bowls. It was cozy and fit Macaque’s aesthetic nicely. “It's amazing! I never would have guessed this place existed. I see why you like it, not too dark but with the right amount of shadows.” The cavern was rather big as it was the size of a studio apartment and in the far corner a flash of lightning caught your eye out of a small hole tilted outward like a makeshift room. 

He grins, opening his arms and turning around in a dramatic showy fashion. "Told you I was cool." He jokes, walking over to a table, and pulling a pillow off of it. He sets it on the floor in front of you and gets one for himself. "Sit down, make yourself comfortable, you're my guest." He says, smiling at you. His tail wags happily, and you would swear you could hear a faint little chuckle from him. You laughed gently at his hospitality and how different it was compared to his normal demeanor, it was quite funny. 

 You respond with a silent chuckle, “I never said you weren't. I actually think you're really cool and give off a mysterious yet curious vibe.” You sat down on the pillow and shrugged off your soaked coat, trying to not obviously laugh at his cute actions. How his tail happily swayed back and forth, how his ears flicked whenever a sound was heard, and how his laugh was full of mirth. Finally, visibly relaxing once you realized you were safe from any harm, whether it be hypothermia or being struck by lightning. “This place is amazing, I can tell why you call it home.”

"Thank you." He says sincerely, smiling at you. He pulls a blanket off of the bed, tossing it to you. "Why don't you wrap up, stay warm. We'll have to wait out this storm a while, but I'll keep you safe." He sounds genuine and concerned, which is definitely a change of pace from the usual way he acts. Your instincts are telling you to lean on him and feel secure, and you feel safe and protected. 

He's like a big, shadowy teddy bear. A thought that you never thought would pop into your head but couldn’t be more true in your opinion. He smiles at you, something stirring in his mind but you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. "Are you sure you're okay? I wouldn’t want you to get sick on me."

“Thanks, you don't know how much I appreciate this. I am relatively new to this city so I don’t know many people here. I'm a lot better now that I don't have to worry about my safety for a while.” Smiling as you take the blanket and wrap it around yourself, moving closer to him since was the only source of warmth. You blew on your hands and rubbed them together quickly, bringing the blanket even closer around your shoulders. “So I'm not familiar with anything and I only knew the basics of how to stay safe. I didn't expect you to be so soft and fluffy, Macaque. Not to mention warm but I guess that's cause I'm all wet.” Softly laughing and smiling at him sweetly.

He blushes slightly, and chuckles. "I'm not that fluffy, now, am I?" He jokes, chuckling. He nudges you a little. "I was about to go and make some tea, wanna come along?" He asks, offering a hand as he stands up. "C'mon!" He glances outside, and the storm still rages. "You really gotta be careful in this weather. I'll teach you all about it eventually, and then you can be on your own." His tail wags, and he gives you a big, genuine smile.

“Sure! I'm coming! I'll try to help where I can.” Following along and rethinking if being alone is something you actually want. He takes your other hand, guiding you through the shadowy cavern, toward a door. He opens it, and you can hear the sounds of a raging fire inside. "It's gonna be fine, I promise!" He says reassuringly, trying to give you some peace of mind. He chuckles a bit and walks over to a tea brewing station. "What kind of tea do you like?" He asks, genuinely curious. "Tea of life, perhaps?" He giggles, and you sense some humor in him. He's still very much himself, but a bit warmer and easier going.

#lmk macaque x reader #lmk macaque #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid x reader

[princess-of-the-corner]

Do you think in CC there is hope for Shigaraki? Because from my understanding of canon he's gone off the deep end. Because like, I'm imagining if that happens he just has a weird in joke with Kaminari about his villainy and everyone is confused. Then Shigaraki just reveals that he was A: A villain B: Fully prepared to kill All Might and C: Not gonna do that anymore. Kaminari backs him and everyone just thinks it's a joke.

Then something happens on national news and suddenly Shigaraki has to make an apology video.

Okay so on one hand I'm down for a semi-joke au of 'minecraft youtuber drama' where he sees the power of friendship and jumps ship and makes an apology video.

As for main Chaos Children which I have hinted at in one of the future!fics:

Shigaraki, or rather Tenko, is ultimately, another one of AfO's victims. He was kidnapped and held for fifteen fucking years, with AfO abusing and manipulating and gaslighting this child into his current state.

He had very little contact with good influences. Kurogiri tried at times, but knew that there was a fine line of how much he could do the 'try to make this kid a good person' before AfO would make things worse(either AfO punishing Tenko, or killing Kurogiri which would leave Tenko even more alone and without any support.)

Shigaraki has a few 'friends' in the minecraft group, but 1.) they don't fully /know/ him, and 2.) he justifies keeping himself at a distance by telling himself that his streamer career is just a recruitment tactic/way to manipulate the masses. Plus they have very limited interaction so they can't exactly spend enough time for him to pull away from the years of conditioning in his head.

I don't think saving him will be as simple as it is with some of the other villains in the 'Toya takes the league in the divorce' plotline. Because yeah the rest of the group are also villains who have some mental health issues, but they're people who were grown adults and made some more solid choices vs. Tenko being kidnapped and forced into this from being like five.

That said, I do want to save him. I want to help him. It's just not something that can be easily done. So I do think he has to be defeated and arrested first, but the Heroes who know what all Tenko's situation is are going to petition for less 'throw him in jail' and more high-security hospital where they can have people work on undoing all the manipulation AfO did.

And over time he will get better! It's unlikely he'll ever be properly released, even if he can prove he's recovered well and is no longer a danger. If only for the absolute hot mess the public would be over it because not everyone would know his situation(and even less would believe the last chunk of the time where he was essentially possessed by AfO). But his mental health is going to improve. And with that improvement means he can have more privileges like visits from people and letting him start his minecraft career over again.

[rockbottomwithashovel]

Tw suicide

Hey guys. I'm just posting this to say why... And to say I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, I suck at goodbyes. I just don't think I can do this anymore. It's like the universe is giving me more reasons to die each day.

I never wanted it to be this way. I started to think I could actually recover, live a long and happy life. But that moment was so short. I just can't do it.

I haven't been able to be happy for more than a minute since I was 10. I was just a child, and I had already gone through so much. But it was only just starting.

When I was 7 or 8 I was sexually assaulted. It was around this time that I started to more or less live on pot noodles as I wasn't allowed to make anything, but my mum mentally couldn't either.

When I was 10-13 I was emotionally and mentally abused. I was bullied for years, they made me do things and if I didn't I'd be the one with the bruise. The guilt eats me every day. There are rooms and memories from that time and school that don't make sense and I can't remember. I don't know why. The bullying even came from teachers. This was a private Christian school.

From when I was 10 I had to spend most excursions at home as we nearly lost the house, and I had to miss days of school to stay home and look after my mum, who was suffering from depression and needed support. This was when the household chores all fell on to me and my twin.

When I was 13 my mum tested me against my consent for aspergers syndrome (now called ASD). It came back positive. She told me when I didn't want to know. This caused a chaotic and unstable household. I was suffering ptsd that I didn't understand. My parents made me feel crazy. I was running away and coming back, missing school, not sleeping. Asking for affection but only getting attention if I was a problem. There was so much screaming and fighting and I was all alone, no friends, no family helping me through, even my twin was against me.

When I was 15 I told my best friend of 10 years that I have ASD. She never spoke to me since.

When I was 16 I was groomed by a man online, leading to me seeking out more aggressive and manipulative people online to make me feel good about myself. The shame lasted longer than anything else. Then the pandemic hit. My friend tried to kill herself. She left most people notes... Not me. She doesn't really speak to me now. I don't know what I did wrong.

By 18, I had tried to kill myself more times than I could count, never getting far (I was only 13 when I first attempted).But things started to look up. I had survived school.

Now, at 19, I've been to aa, the mental ward twice in one year for suicide attempts, I have depression, anxiety, ptsd, insomnia, atypical anorexia, suicidal thoughts, I self harm so much I could never wear short sleeves again. And I'm having psychotic episodes. I don't know what it is, I'm scared to be diagnosed, but my therapist has suggested a few things. As someone (if you've looked closely at my blog, you'll know who) once said, it's a living, breathing nightmare.

Maybe I am a coward. Maybe it's just too much and I'm too weak. But it hurts so much or I can't feel at all. I can't keep doing this.

People say they love me, that I'm important or they'd miss me. But I just don't know if I can believe that. People call me pretty but the mirror makes me want to hurt myself. I'm ugly. Unlovable. I'm just a burden and a waste of space. I'm so sorry if I am important to you. I don't want to traumatize anyone or hurt anyone but this just hurts so fucking much I don't know how much longer I can be strong. Maybe I'm just not meant for this.

I need you all to know I love you. You mean so much to me. I'm so fucking sorry if I hurt you. I'm so sorry. If you're struggling, please get help. You deserve happiness, hope, love. I believe in you. It will get better. If you see someone struggling, please look after them, even just a stranger on the train with leaking eyeliner. Just ask if they're OK. You could save their life.

I've got pierce the veil on the 27th. I'll do it after that. I'm not sure if I can hold on that long though. I'm so sorry for any pain I'm causing. I hope you're all OK <333

Love,

Rock

#rock rambles #delete later #maybe i'm better off dead #Tw sui #Suicide note #Su1c1d3 n0t3

[lostinfantasyworlds]

Life Update

Heyyyy it’s been a while! I never really expect anyone to notice when I fuck off for long periods of time, but in case you did and happened to be wondering why I was mostly MIA for most of 2023, here's what I've been up to.

The short version: My husband and I sold our first house over the summer and bought our “forever” home! It worked out so much better than I could have hoped, but it turns out that prepping a house to sell and moving = lots of stress and chaos...which caused me to tumble off the deep end mentally for a while afterwards and I’m only just starting to recover.

---

Before I elaborate, I feel like I have to give a disclaimer because the last thing I want is to come across like I'm complaining or ungrateful. I'm very aware of how lucky and privileged I am to be a homeowner, so I am by no means asking for sympathy or trying to act like "buying/selling a house is so stressful, woe is me!" I understand that homeownership is a pipe dream for a lot of people, especially in the current economy, and I don't take that for granted. I'm genuinely grateful that I even have the opportunity to be stressed about something like this, but I can't deny that it was stressful.

If anyone is wondering how I managed to buy a house at all, I'm happy to answer that in a separate post. The abridged version is extremely lucky timing plus countless hours of hard work put into fixing up our first house that we bought for cheap back when the market was way more balanced (2016).

When I talk about the stress of last year, it's almost entirely in regards to my own mental health which is something I've always struggled with. I get overwhelmed VERY easily by regular life, let alone when I go through a major change (no matter how positive it is). Every big transition period in my life has triggered intense anxiety disorders and/or depression for me, so that's the main reason why things felt so difficult.

If you happen to be thinking something along the lines of "shut the fuck up, no one cares you were stressed, you're so privileged to even be able to own a house," ...believe me, I've already said to myself a million times. That is part of why I end up so depressed in the first place, because I feel like I “don’t have the right” when my life is so wonderful. But thanks to therapy I understand more about my mental illnesses and I'm trying to be less hard on myself now.

Still, I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea 😅.

---

Anyways! If you want to know more about our house/see some pics, the long version with all of my rambling is below the cut!

The long version:

My husband and I bought our first house in 2016, right after getting married. It was conveniently located right across the street from where we had been living with 4 of our friends (which is how we were able to save enough money to buy a house), but it was in such bad condition that it didn't even meet the FHA minimum property standards so we had to use a special type of mortgage to purchase it. We always meant for it to a long-term flip, planning to live there while renovating it so that we could sell it after a few years and use the profit to buy a house that would be more permanent.

We put so much literal blood sweat and tears into that house. In the beginning we spent every single hour of our spare time fixing up the house. We do all renovation work ourselves because my dad and husband have experience with demolition, electrical, and plumbing. And anything we don't know how to do we just figure out as we go along. The only time we hired a contractor was to replace the roof that had extensive water damage.

(This is the water damage discovered down the whole back of the house a few weeks after we bought it 🙃)

(One before-and-after out of many to avoid making this post absurdly long. The contractors finished the ceiling when they did the roof but otherwise we did all the work on that bathroom ourselves, including moving the shower wall back 6 inches so that the shower door wasn't mounted to the window trim 🤦🏻‍♀️)

Over a few years we worked on remodeling each room until we eventually we got super burnt out, and then the pandemic happened and we both fell into a deep depression. Finally, in 2022 I got myself a therapist and started clawing myself out of the dark place I was in, and at the start of April 2023 we started prepping the house to sell. I had been watching the market steadily increase to absolutely insane levels and knew it was kind of a “now or never” situation, even though I still felt very fragile mentally so I was worried how I would handle such a large undertaking.

I never could have imagined just how amazing it would turn out. We truly couldn't be happier with our new home, it’s pretty much everything we were hoping for and I still can’t believe how lucky we are to have gotten it. I was prepared to have a hard time finding an affordable house. I had heard of all kinds of horror stories and the crazy competition going on in the market was intimidating. I thought we were gearing up for the long haul, and prepared myself for a lot of disappointment. Our house was the first house we put an offer on (the third one we looked at in person) and we somehow got it! It’s insane, I'm so fucking grateful.

The only catch is that it's a lot more of a fixer upper than we had originally planned on buying. I didn’t think that we would ever buy another house that required as much renovation as our first one did, because that shit was intense and we are now in our 30s and very tired 😂. But our new house has so many features that were on our “would-love-to-have-but-probably-won't-find-in-this-economy” list like laundry upstairs and an attached garage (also a pond??!?! We have a fucking pond and I love it so so much🥹). So we knew we could turn it into a home we’d love spending our lives in if we put in the work. Plus it was actually well below our budget (probably because of the condition it was in).

We decided to offer what we were willing to pay, which was well above asking but we still didn't think we'd have a chance because the market is so competitive. I don’t know if our real estate agent just worked some magic (she was amazing), but we were genuinely stunned when she told us we got the house.

(Our beautiful pond🥹 🥰)

After that, things moved SO fast. The timing made it overlap with the prepping/listing of our first home, which was really stressful to juggle all at once on top of our full time jobs. I thought selling was going to be the easy part since the market is so skewed towards sellers right now. And it did go amazingly well once we listed (64 showings and 12 offers in one weekend, fucking nuts?!?!!), but the months leading up to listing the house were CRAZY. I knew it would be a lot of work to prep the house since we had a bunch of unfinished projects, 4 open permits with the town that we needed to get closed, and had accumulated so much shit over the years, but I definitely underestimated how intense it would be, especially with the overlap of buying our new house. I had used up all of my PTO for the year by June in order to deal with house things and felt like I was constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown. I pushed myself way past my limits and knew I would pay for it eventually.

But we made it through the chaos and officially moved in July. Let me just say that I hope I never have to move again😵‍💫. It was 90+ degrees (F), 95% + humidity that weekend, and then POURING rain on the day of the move🙃. But other than that, everything went pretty smoothly! After a couple weeks of getting settled and sleeping in the living room, we started on the renovations in early August.

(Before and after of our living room that we are using as a hobby room for D&D, music, art, etc I love it so much!)

(Before and after of the downstairs bedroom which we use as our office)

We remodeled two whole rooms in about 6 weeks, which was wayy too much. We had been going nonstop since April and by the time we got to October, I hit a wall. Because my mental health was incredibly fragile to begin with, surprise surprise I ended up stuck in another bout of horrific burnout-fueled depression for a solid 2+ months after we finally paused to take a break. I've struggled with my mental health since I was a teenager, having periods of depression, panic disorder, and GAD on and off. Also over the past year, I’ve started to suspect that I may have undiagnosed ADHD so there's a lot going on with my brain. I've always been a very sensitive person, and my mental health is the first thing to suffer if I don't take care of myself.

I started feeling a bit better in December, but then things got crazy again with work and the holidays, so I ended up back in burnout land yet again. Now I think I'm finally starting to truly recover as I enter the slow season at work. We are easing back into renovations but I've been trying to take it as easy on myself as possible to avoid falling back into that dark place, which is why you haven't seen much of me on tumblr. It bums me out, and I often feel frustrated with my own limitations when I see everyone posting and chatting and creating and I want so badly to join in, but I sadly just haven't had it in me for a long time. But I'm still lurking and forever obsessed with InuKag and hope to be recovered enough to participate in fandom stuff more soon!

I've still been writing and drawing here and there whenever I get a bit of inspiration. I actually just finished an Inuyasha redraw that I'll be posting soon! I've also been writing a lot more recently, or at least thinking a lot about my WIPs😂. The main one I've been working on is If It Kills Me, which I am dying to share with you all. But it's a mystery/thriller/actiony type of story with plot points that still need to be figured out, so once those pieces fall into place I will hopefully be able to wrap it up. I'm going to be working on it a lot in February, so we'll see what happens.

I would love to share my other main WIP The First and Last this summer (since it's a summer-based story), but we'll see how things go. The next major renovation project is the kitchen 😵‍💫, so fandom things might have to sadly take a backseat again during that. But I'll still be lurking here and missing you all! ❤️

#personal #home renovation #update #I don't expect anyone to read this whole thing but thank you for listening to me ramble if you do xD #I'm an overexplainer sorry can't help it #anyways I missed being involved in the fandom last year so much #happy to finally feel regulated again #it was a busy year and my brain sucks but it was amazing

[aristocratic-otter]

Hello friends. Is it me, posting before midnight on a Sunday?

It is! The benefits of being on break for the last week. But it's back to the grind tomorrow, sigh.

Thank you to @blackberrysummerblog, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @captain-aralias, @facewithoutheart, @artsyunderstudy, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @j-nipper-95 @larkral and @hushed-chorus for the tags.

It's not yet midnight for me, but it's late for nearly everyone else. I'll send tags at least to other west coast peeps and hellos to a few other friends!

Tagging @palimpsessed, @fatalfangirl, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @yellobb-old, @frjsti, @bazzybelle, @bookish-bogwitch, @erzbethluna, @ic3-que3n, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @moments-au-crayon22, @raenestee, @tea-brigade, @theearlgreymage, @twinkle-twinkle-up-above, @upuntil6am

Excerpts under the cut!

From: Saving Simon Snow (hopefully will start posting this week!)

“I just mean…well, we’re two eighteen year old blokes. It’s not like we’re going to be having a family to fill all that space. Doesn’t your family own anything…smaller?”

I chuckle. “I’m afraid not, Snow. Just the manor in Hampshire, the Hunting Lodge here, and a vacation home in the South of France. The Pitch family trust owns Fiona’s flat if you want to move into her spare bedroom,” I add, mischievously. 

He pales slightly and says, “Pass, thanks. I’d like to keep my bollocks where they are.” 

From my COBB for this year:

Baz is sitting at his desk, his back to me as I enter. He doesn’t even flinch when I slam the door shut behind me, just continues moving his pen across the page. Revising, as is his usual in the evenings. I swear Baz has no life outside of plotting against me. 

“Ha!” I shout. “Deny it now, fucker!”

Baz turns slowly, lifting his eyebrow at me. He doesn’t speak, but his expression says plenty. 

“Deny that you’ve gone ‘round the bend, Snow? You’re right, I truly can’t deny that.”

From: Westward Son

Physically, he’s tough as nails. But mentally, he’s like a wounded bird. And yeah, I know that’s an ironic description, given the wings and all. But when I look into his eyes lately, he reminds me of a wing-shot falcon I found in the fields once. Some hunter had brought the proud creature down for no fucking reason; it’s not like falcons are good eating. I’ll never forget the look on the bird's face. Fierce and feral, terrified and trapped. 

Simon’s eyes have looked like that lately.  

From: Raising Dragons

I think my theory about hormones and being overwrought has been borne out, because eventually, he’s cried out and lying limp against my chest, half dozing. I gently lower us to the bed, not ceasing my words or caresses, but the moment his head touches the pillow, his eyes pop open again. 

“How do you know?” he whispers to me. 

“How do I know what?”

“How do you know I’ll be a good father? How can you know that?”

I push him away from me enough that I can look into his eyes when I speak. “I know, Simon, because I know you.”

From: To Heal a Broken Mind:

“That—that really sucks, you know?” he mumbles into the fabric of my shirt. 

I smile a little, and say, “I assume you mean the seizure and not the snogging.”

Simon snorts a laugh and than smiles into my eyes. “The snogging was brilliant. I’d rather like to do it again.”

I can feel my chest swelling with happiness at that. “When we get home, we can discuss it,” I smirk at him, trying to hide the way I’m melting at his words.. 

“I’ll hold you to that,” he grins. “But maybe without the discussion part.”

From an extremely secret project (I can't believe I found a bit that was spoiler free enough to share!):

“Hello,” says a voice in what I’d call sultry tones, if I were fully human. Then the owner of the voice dissolves in giggles for a moment. A few seconds later, apparently recovering themselves, they continue. “We’re having a little bit of trouble. And a whole lot of fun. Won’t you come and…level up with us?” The smokiness of her tone over the words ‘level up’ make it a euphemism, I’m fairly sure. I’m not sure for what. For sexual congress perhaps? 

And, yes, once again I have six WIPs. But Dragons is nearly done and Saving Simon Snow is more than 2/3s done, so maybe I'll be down to five again soon? I still need to start my COTTA for this year!

[cringecompanionapologist]

Top 5 Worst Days for Turlough

Okay maybe I'm as bored as I implied in the last post but this isn't a top five you're gonna find anywhere else.

Basically, here are five stories where very bad things happen to Turlough from least bad to most bad. Obviously, these are my perceptions and other people might not be put this in the same order. Also, I haven't seen everything, so I might miss something big and just not know.

Also, this turned out really fucking long because I just had to rant about number 1.

Number 5: Loups-Garoux (Big Finish Audio from 2001, written by Marc Platt)

I'm only putting this one at the bottom because Loups-Garoux is mostly a comedic story and Turlough seems to recover fine. He sees a vision of his dark side so terrifying he jumps out of a moving train and gets eaten by a werewolf, who spits him out because he has silver on him. Unlike in many of these examples, the Doctor seems a bit upset about this. But, this almost feels like business as usual.

Number 4: Trap for Fools (Big Finish Short Trip from 2018, written by Stephen Fewell)

Okay, this one might be a bit of a me thing. I can get a bit overly sensitive about the subject of mean teachers. In order to find and defeat the Monster of the Week, the Doctor has Turlough go undercover as a student at Space Brendon, basically. The Doctor seems completely oblivious to Turlough's misery and doesn't do much to help him through reliving experiences he was willing to kill to escape. This is another one that's mostly played for laughs, with most of the Horrors Turlough faces being mild bullying and a teacher pronouncing his name wrong on purpose to be a dick, but Turlough is actually intimidated by the mean teacher and mentally categorizes the other students by how much of a threat they might be and is just generally miserable the entire time.

Really, there's one bit that made me decide that this belonged on the list because it's really sad:

Someone please hug him.

Number 3: The Velvet Dark (Short Trip: Farewells from 2006, written by Stewart Sheargold)

The Master shoots Turlough with the TCE, making the Doctor think he'd just casually murdered him, only to reveal that he shrunk Turlough without killing him to make him a more manageable hostage. The Master places him in a box and shakes the box around when the Doctor hesitates in cooperating with him.

This story starts with the Master faking his death and the Doctor, Tegan, and Turlough attending his funeral. Tegan doesn't get why the Doctor is sad that the guy who killed her aunt is dead now. Turlough also doesn't get it, but he doesn't have as much of a personal reason to hate the Master, so he tries to be patient and Tegan seems kind of jealous that the Doctor listens to him more than her.

After being returned to his proper size, Turlough hates the Master just as much as Tegan does. The Doctor, apparently unable to truly hate the Master, kind of treats them both like the bad guys in this.

Number 2: Frontios (TV Serial from 1984, written by Christopher H. Bidmead)

An actual TV story! Tractators. Trion, at some point in the planet's history, was attacked by this story's Monster of the Week and now all Trions, regardless of when they were born, remember the Tractators on some level. It's never explained how this actually works, but Turlough personally had probably never heard of the Tractators until he saw a tunnel and a massacre just showed up in his brain. The Doctor awkwardly hands him off to the one-shots to go explore the tunnels, not knowing what to do about all this emotional stuff.

You'll notice that the Doctor's response to whatever happens to Turlough is a major factor in how I rank these.

Anyway...

Number 1: The King of Terror (Past Doctor Adventure novel from 2000, written by Keith Topping)

It isn't even close. The novels of the Wilderness Years (1990-2004) were aimed at an adult audience and there were very few limits on what sort of situations the Doctor and his companions could end up in. So, sometimes, shit got dark. I usually tend to find these morbidly funny, because saying things like "The Doctor and Dodo meet the Marquis de Sade" and "Doctor Who's Cannibal Holocaust" is fun. It just is. Shut up.

These books vary in quality. Some actually do interesting things with their darker subject matter while others are just sort of edgy for the sake of it. The King of Terror is in the latter category and is annoying as hell about it. I could go into way more detail about every stupid thing that happens in this book, but the Turlough stuff is the most interesting stupid thing, because of how fucked up it is.

So, Turlough, feeling a bit OOC on a trip to Los Angeles in 1999, goes to a bar, gets completely wasted, and chats up local girls trying to get laid. Then one woman stands out as hypnotically sexy, introduces herself as Eva, and invites Turlough back to her place to have sex. Turlough is too drunk to notice that this is moving a bit fast.

Anyway, Eva is actually a member of an alien species called the Jex who are trying to take over the world. They want to terraform Earth to be more like their homeworld, which has a hotter, thicker atmosphere, but their human slaves wouldn't be able to do hard labor in those conditions, so they want to genetically modify the humans to have higher heat resistance, among other things. There's something wrong with Jex DNA, so they need the DNA of some other alien with higher heat resistance.

The CIA, wanting to see where this is all going, tipped the Jex off that some aliens had just showed up in LA and Eva went out to kidnap one. Turlough then spends like half the book being experimented on to both confirm that he's an alien and that he's the right type of alien.

It's a lot of torture. I'm not even going to say any of what happens. Here's one screenshot of Turlough reflecting on all the torture happening to him that is vague but sums up why I'm not going to elaborate:

(Note: There actually is a reference to something specific in here and I apologize in advance)

Meanwhile, the Doctor and Tegan find out that Turlough's missing. Tegan seems to think that they should do something about this, while the Doctor comments jokingly on how often Turlough gets captured. He eventually gives Tegan the day off to take her mind of things, leading to a really stupid romance subplot, while he does absolutely nothing to find Turlough.

Turlough eventually very brutally murders Eva in an understandable lapse of sanity and escapes. The Doctor isn't even there when he gets back and they reunite "offscreen". From that point on, the whole subplot is basically dropped. The Doctor asks Turlough if he's okay, he lies and says he is, the Doctor knows it's a lie, but he's glad for a chance to act like it never happened.

So, it really sucks to be Turlough and I'm now exhausted.

#vislor turlough #stories to base your whump and h/c fics around #loups garoux #trap for fools #the velvet dark #frontios #the king of terror #a lot of very bad things happen to turlough #i don't even know what to tw this for #or if I need to #so sorry i guess

[marnz]

some thoughts about life right now;

i've been on a really intense project since late July and let me tell you, i am tired! i'm one of the few people at my job that specialize in this type of work--we are excited to train more--but for now i am just hanging out here preparing to trade one high pressure project for another for the foreseeable future. which ultimately is fine! even though it can be stressful, I would rather be doing this type of work, which is interesting and super fulfilling and matters a lot to me, than other types of work, which do not feel fulfilling and are actually pretty boring.

it's a little confusing to find myself here because last year i went on medical leave for mental health reasons and prior to that i was doing a very different kind of work, and when i came back in january they started me off with this new kind of work (which i do prefer) with basically no training from my supervisor. which is fine, i am comfortable learning on the fly and/or teaching myself, and i have both a lot of experience doing this and a lot of experience in Complex Projects, albeit in a different practice area. then i moved onto this project in late july. so like again very little training in this specific type of work but i assure you, nothing is as stressful as my last job was. and i do love this project! even though it's stressful! i've since learned that this is just going to be my specialty! which like...i am happy with the outcome but i feel like i sort of tripped and fell into it in the least expected way possible.

while thinking about it, i think i thought i'd only make it to this kind of work, this kind of project, by working hard--and i had a specific idea of what working hard looked like, what striving looked like. but i have been working hard for the last year or so, healing, learning, growing, recovering, all of it. and that is hard work. and by taking time to tend to myself, and grow and change and learn and heal, i became ready for this kind of stressful work. and that's not the narrative we have around this. culturally we have a narrative of self sacrifice and unpaid overtime and being really fucking type A and having unhealthy work/life balance, but as soon as I stepped away and said actually, i've had enough, i will not burn my life out for you, i started down a road that led me to doing the type of work i want to do in a healthier and more prepared way. and that's fucking awesome!

for now i am just trying to make it to the end of this project in mid october. which means coping skills, baby! wish i could write but i don't have capacity for it rn, and that's fine. so my priorities are: maintenance days (cleaning/chores). reading. knitting. baking. yoga. hiking. i want to make life as easy and cozy for myself as possible right now.

i haven't knit for several months and I'm thinking of trying my first sweater--this gorgeous sweater called Mountain Mist. however i've never done colorwork before so the pattern suggests doing the same colorwork in a swatch hat (here) to practice. i am SO HYPE!!! this pattern is also admittedly deeply my aesthetic. i showed it to my partner and he laughed bc it's so typically me lol. i also checked out the first book in Tana French's Dublin Murders series on audiobook to listen too while knitting. spooky season means murder mysteries. 🥰

also my work office is being remodeled so i will be working from home for the next 6ish months, and we're preparing to overhaul my little work corner in our house so it is better/more ergonomic/has more storage/is cuter. also i am going to get a standing desk for my poor knees 😵‍💫 recently worked from 8:30 to 9:30 and my knees hurt sooooo bad 😩

it's nice to know that a year ago i wouldn't have been able to handle this project or really know how to slow down and prioritize self care and after a ton of hard work on my mental health i'm now i'm like, well, it is a bit stressful but we got this. progress 😌💖

#currently #crimes new roman #gonna make lemon poppyseed bread next i think #doing laundry and cleaned out the pantry today. now going to order yarn. #also tmi but i got a new iud and i am In Pain lol so i am just going to take it super easy :)

[neurodiversebones]

so almost everyone in the squint squad has established childhood trauma (brennan, booth, sweets), what was all of their mental health like when they were younger? how did they cope? i hope you're doing alright!!!

OH i really adore this question !!! i <3 angst potential and i love these mf's sad backstories . gonna be honest, this is darker than most things i've posted before. it's mostly based on my own experiences and the experiences of a lot of my close friends- i'm gonna put a trigger warning for mention of abuse, self harm, eating disorders , substance abuse (drugs and alcohol), and suicide under the read more . please take care of yourselves !!! nothing is given graphic detail, but use your judgement and please don't read if it'll trigger you . i love you !!!

this evolved past just . their younger years and kind of became their Journeys with their mental health . i have a lot of thoughts pls ask me more about this omg :-))

i wrote so fucking much about this btw . i didn't know i had that many thoughts about this until i started writing and couldn't stop . my brain is Buzzing with angst for them .

brennan : brennan's mental health was always a little rocky, since she really struggled with loneliness in school, and didn't have many friends . as a kid, she never really understood why people didn't like her. she knew there was something different about her, but she couldn't see why people were so mean to her- the bullying lasted pretty much from the time she started school to graduation, and it was hell. a lot of adults didn't believe her or want to help her, and so she spent a lot of her childhood thinking that it was her fault she felt so alone. she didn't get to experience friendships as a kid, and despite learning being her favourite thing in the world, school was never a safe place for her.

however , once her parents left it got a Lot worse- the abandonment, and subsequent abuse she experienced in foster care, is what triggered her to develop ptsd. she was in some really bad homes- we get a few of the details in canon (like the family that locked her in the trunk of a car for breaking a dish), but there was always more. some were outright violently abusive, like that one, some were neglectful, and some, while not actively horrible, made it very clear that they didn't care much for her and she wasn't really a part of their family. she struggled with a lot of depression and hopelessness in her teen years because of this- the abuse was really difficult to deal with, and she turned to self harm and an eating disorder as a way to give herself some control over the situation. she spent almost all her time hiding away in her room studying, so between that and the constantly chaotic living situations, nobody even noticed what she was doing to herself. a social worker made her do therapy once, but she refused to speak the entire session, and continued to do so until she was allowed to quit. it hurt her, that nobody cared enough to notice that she was hurting herself, but she didn't want to ask for help because she refused to rely on anyone else after she'd already been abandoned once.

this, along with passive suicidality, followed her into adulthood, especially because she refused to address the problem or seek help. even for a good part of canon (really, up until season 6), we see her struggle with her mental health, struggling to understand the trauma she experienced as well as struggling to comprehend that even with all of that in her past, she can have positive relationships. her friendships helped her a lot though !! her friends at the jeffersonian were pretty much the first time in her life she wasn't... alone. this, along with actually finally seeking out help (therapy and meds), helped her to recover so she could finally feel Alive again (a big motivation for her was so that she could be a good mom to christine and hank <3) .

booth : we know from canon that booth has ptsd and experienced suicidal thoughts in his childhood . the trauma of the abuse from his dad fucked him up a lot- when he was a kid, he didn't really let it show, since he was in survival mode. he tried to be the best he could, be charming and happy and smart, both to avoid the abuse and to make sure nobody found out, since it was guaranteed that would make it worse. once he and jared were finally able to escape it and go live with their grandfather, it was the first time he actually let himself feel those feelings, and it was bad. his trauma manifested through anger- he wanted to hurt his dad for the torture he put them through, but he couldn't, so he took it out on himself instead. i think he struggled a lot with self harm in his youth and teen years, and continued to struggle with suicidal thoughts. he attempted, once, in highschool, but just woke up the next morning and pretended everything was fine. none of his friends ever knew he was hurting, most of them didn't even know about what he'd gone through as a kid. but his grandfather found the note in his room that day and talked to him about it when he got home, and he cried for probably the first time in years. that's what got him to finally accept help- he didn't realize how bad it was until that conversation.

another thing that was really triggering for him was alcohol- he was a football player, and all his friends were party boys. they drank a lot, and he usually avoided it. the most he ever had was a single beer, since he was terrified of losing control and being like his father. there was one time he got wasted- it was at a party, and he stumbled home that night. jared was in the kitchen, getting something to eat . booth was about 16 then, so jared was only 12 or 13. jared saw that he was drunk, and completely froze in fear, completely having a flashback. this fucked booth up- he was absolutely terrified of drinking from there on out, and was pretty much 100% sober until he was out of college.

angela : angela's mental health was pretty good until her late teen years (around 16). she had good friends, lots of hobbies, and she was really close with her dad. we don't know what happened to her mom, but i suspect it wasn't anything good- either she died when angela was young, or left. angela had some Issues with that, but it wasn't a huge deal for most of her life, since it had almost always been just her and her dad. when she was about sixteen though, things got rough- this is when her bipolar started, and it was really hard. she would cycle really rapidly in between manic and depressive episodes, and had some really terrifying mixed episodes as well (which can be really dangerous). she started getting more self destructive too- she developed an eating disorder around this time (bulimia), and started engaging in a lot of reckless behaviour that she could excuse by being a "party girl". she would binge drink, experiment with drugs, have reckless sex, etc. people worried about her, but she didn't even understand how dangerous any of it was until she hit rock bottom right at the end of her junior year. she was wildly depressed, and could barely get out of bed- her dad pulled her out of school, and she spent the last month of the school year just trying to get better. he cancelled a bunch of tour dates just to be with her and help her recover, and with a lot of help, things did start to get better.

her senior year, she didn't feel like going back to the place that had her so ill. and so she did her final year through homeschool, and spent it on the road with her dad. this was the best decision she ever made- it's where she fell in love with art, painting all the beautiful things she saw and learning to express how she was feeling through creation rather than destruction. when she goes to college the next year , she's in a MUCH more stable place and although she still struggles, she's much better at coping.

hodgins : hodgins started struggling with his mental health at a pretty young age (like, early middle school), but because of his families status, it was frowned upon to talk about. he didn't understand what was going on with him, just that he was so, so angry and sad all the time. he thought that something was wrong with him, that he was broken in some way, but he knew instinctively that it was something he wasn't supposed to talk about. he realized he was trans sometime around this age too, which really impacted his mental health- his dysphoria was really bad at this time, since there was nothing he could do about it. he had to keep his hair long, wear the "girls" uniform at school, act like a "proper lady" when his family was around. there was so much anger and sadness inside of him that he just didn't understand or know what to do with, which lead to a long battle with self harm that continued into his adulthood. his parents were aware of this, they just... wanted to ignore it until it went away.

when he was an older teenager, there was more he could do- he chopped all his hair off, which infuriated his parents, and was constantly in detention in school for refusing to wear the "proper" uniform. he wouldn't respond to his deadname, only jack, which got him in a lot of shit both in school and at home. he was already hurting himself as a way to rebel against this, but turned to drinking and drugs as another way to say "fuck you" to his family and the life he never felt like he belonged in. he fell in with a rougher crowd, since they were the only ones who understood and accepted him, and got into a bunch of trouble as a teen. he doesn't like to think back on those years. through university, he cleaned up his act a little, but really only on the outside. he was still wildly depressed, drinking, and so goddamn angry. it wasn't until he found his passion in school that he really started to care about his life- but once he found it, he realized he really did want to live. it was still really fucking hard, but he started to try to get better. he stayed mostly no-contact with his family, and started engaging in life more, trying to find hobbies and friends and have relationships that didn't revolve around just suffering and surviving together.

cam : cam grew up with a big pressure to be the perfect child placed upon her- she was the oldest daughter, and spent her whole childhood being "the smart one". she was really popular too, and from the outside looked like she had everything. but she really struggled with loneliness, and didn't feel like she fit in anywhere due to her undiagnosed autism and the pressure to constantly mask. the pressure of keeping up with her friends, of having perfect grades, of getting into the perfect school, of making her parents proud... caught up with her a lot once she was in her mid-late teen years. her eating disorder started around 15, and it offered her a huge sense of control in a world where she didn't feel like she had much- it was the easiest way to get away with hurting herself too. and it got her the approval and praise she wanted so badly- she looked like she was being healthy, and everyone praised her for how "good" she looked. it helped her fit in.

speaking of fitting in, her loneliness and the pressure to mask was really hard in highschool. sure, she had lots of friends, but she didn't feel like she connected with a single one of them. she knew there was something different about her, but she just couldn't figure out what it was. and so, she did everything in her power to try seem "normal". her friends were big party-goers, and so she would be too. she would drink... a somewhat concerning amount at parties. it was the only time she wasn't stressing about looking "right", about acting "normal". she was fun, and bubbly, and people liked her. boys liked her, her friends were too drunk to care that she was so obviously different to them, and she wasn't worried for once in her life. it doesn't help that alcohol and restrictive eating disorders is a known Really Bad Combination.

her ocd was also a big part of why she needed so much control in her life- her ocd started in childhood, around age 9. people thought she was just an anxious kid and a bit of a drama queen, but it was really scary for her. she had a lot of intrusive thoughts about the people around her getting hurt, and so her compulsions were really urgent and terrifying because she was so scared of things being her fault. in her teen years, her ocd fed into her ed a lot, but it also isolated her even further- she was so scared of being ostracized that she never enjoyed herself and . it sucked, to be the person who was always smiling but never really felt happy.

#this is over 2100 words btw . i've written essays significantly shorter than this . it's 5.5 pages double spaced . #this is so special to me though i have so many more thoughts please ask me more about any of these things #also i know i mentioned drug use and there's gonna be SOMEONE who's shitty about it so . if ur gonna demonize addicts just block me atp . #i don't wanna hear it #mental health headcanons #temperance brennan #seeley booth #angela montenegro #jack hodgins #cam saroyan #bones tv #bones tv headcanons

[alpacinosgf]

MILK AND ROSES CH.7

ALSO ON A03

Rated: Explicit (Rough sex, dirty talk, dumbification???, posessiveness, corruption kink, innocence kink, violence, weapons in the bedroom, cum eating, nipple play (male receiving), bossy Oz hee hee, love confessions)

Word Count: 9.2k

Come Monday, you’re still thinking about that night at the Lounge. And the aftermath. You hadn’t stayed long after the incident in the private room of the 44 Below, Oz maintained he wanted to fuck you right in the luxury of his own bed which you weren’t going to oppose. You had been more than ready to leave the place behind. Oz had held your hand tightly in his own grip as you said quick goodbyes and goodnights to the regulars and staff. He hadn’t bothered to do so for Falcone out of spite, and you were positive he’d end up paying for it somehow. You had never expected the reality of the mafia and criminal underworld to be so…petty? It was like they had never mentally left school. It was an endless cycle of revenge tactics and humiliation mixed in with blood spilling and bone breaking.

You had never seen Oz like he was that night, mean and cruel at the thought of someone disrespecting you. You can still hear the rattle of that man’s skull as it hit the wall and the sight of Oz with a visible urge to cause him more harm than he deserved. Worst of all? You’d never been more turned on before. The whole car ride home you had played with his hand on your thigh, fingers still dancing over his bruised knuckles. You squeezed your thighs together when you saw the dried blood under a passing streetlight or blinking bar sign. You’d nearly asked him to finger you there and then at a red light but you thought against it. He’d never let you live it down. Maybe you’ll have car sex another time.

You’re daydreaming about the way he felt when you got into his place, you were both still fully clothed – minus a few buttons on his shirt before he got too desperate. You’d let out a squeak of laughter when he just sighed heavily and pulled you back in for a heated kiss instead of undressing. The blood spilt earlier was a turn on for him too. He couldn’t remember the last time he had two rounds in him on one night, a welcome surprise for the both of you. The texture of his dress trousers left an almost burn on the back of your thighs from how hard and fast he pounded into you. His hips had barely left yours, all the while he repeated over and over one thing as he cradled your face to his, nose to nose:

“Tell me you’re mine”

You could barely respond with the way he moved roughly against you, a total disconnect from the plea that left his mouth. Hot breath mixing together between moans and gasps as he touched your face. You complied best you could, nodding with fervency before you managed to huff out a strangled yes. You moved your own body against his thrusts, neither of you wanting to draw this out any further. You swear you felt a tear escape your eye when you finally came, the release almost painful in its catharsis. Almost as painful as you were now, still not fully recovered days later. That heat rash on the back of your legs still a nagging ache.

You are broken out of your reverie with a jolt when a hand waves in front of your glazed over eyes.

“Shit, sorry! You just looked a little lost there!” the voice apologised before you turned your head away from your computer to see your co-worker.

“No, no! I was just in my own world there, sorry” you quickly get out, hoping you weren’t red in the face at the memories.

“You’re fine, don’t worry! I was just coming over to see if you were going to the thing Friday?”

A beat passes and your brain still hasn’t caught up from being taken out of reminiscing.

“What thing?”

“The dinner?” she prompts, a small smile on her lips as she waits for the penny to drop.

Instant recognition lights up your face and you nod sheepishly, hoping you don’t look like a total idiot. The work dinner. Your department does a little get together twice a year, one at Christmas and in the middle of summer. You avoided the last one, a little too awkward without a spouse to bring. Nobody ever made you feel out of place for going alone, and you weren’t the only single person but still the others would bring someone.

“Sorry, I guess my brain hasn’t kicked back in after lunch” you apologise but she waves you off, one hand motioning the sorry away as she grips her mug with the other.

“Don’t be! Are you going to bring that guy you were telling me so little about?” she enquires with a lilt at the end of her question. She eyes your reaction while she takes a sip.

“Oh, I don’t know. He works a lot, and a Friday night is pretty busy for him” you try weasel out of it, but she’s onto you.

You try to glance away now. How do you explain your drug lord boyfriend is going to be doing his wheeling and dealings in his front of a club? Still, you don’t want to be difficult. She says nothing, and lets you come to the idea of asking him. She’s too good at that you think.

“I’ll ask him, but he mightn’t be able to come by” you tell her as you pick up your phone. There’s a message from him already asking how your day is. God. He’s sweet.

“You should still come with us anyways; we can go together!”

It snaps you out of your appreciation and you give a sincere nod and thank her before she heads back to her chair. You stare at the floor for a second, making little patterns in the aged carpet while you try formulate a way to ask him out. You start by thanking him and telling him how boring work’s been today – not that he hasn’t heard that everyday the last few months. He’s been hinting that you could always quit your job. God knows you’re making more off him than you do here. But you’ve always batted away his offers, he doesn’t take it personally. Oz just wants you to know you don’t have to stay where you’re unhappy. It’s a sweet gesture you’ve begun to grow accustomed to, but you do enjoy getting out and about and doing something with your day. Even if its mind numbing at times, you have decent co-workers. Most of them anyways.

Though the idea of being his trophy wife is very appealing, you aren’t going to deny the thought hasn’t crossed your mind at night when he’s working. You’d fantasised about it enough times when he brought you out to dinner or surprised you with gifts. It could be so easy. You’ve been trying to figure out your own feelings with Oz. It was initially just a little arrangement, but you think the both of you were using it as a cover. At least you hoped he was too. You take a deep breath to bring you back to reality, no point in stressing out over feelings this very second.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come to a work dinner thing Friday night? My department does this thing every few months and people bring their spouses so I was just curious? I know you’re probably busy with the club ofc so don’t feel you have to or anything!! Hope your day is going okay too btw ♡”

You leave the phone by your computer and try to get some work done in the meantime. Doesn’t stop you from glancing at the phone after every few words you type. You’re getting back into the swing of the workflow when he answers. The loud buzz vibrates the whole desk and you cringe a little. Should probably turn that off. You pick at a nail when you unlock the device, eyes consuming every pixel from his reply.

“Sounds great, doll. Don’t worry about the club, they can do without me for a few hours. Are you okay to get a car out there? I’ll meet you there and bring you home. That alright?”

You beam at the message you hadn’t expected him to say yes and it almost makes you feel giddy. It’s like real relationship stuff and before you text back he sends another.

“My day’s going better now, looking forward to Friday babe”

There’s a sigh of relief that leaves you. You’re excited for this dinner now – and are wondering what to wear when the phone buzzes again in your hand.

“♡”

You feel like laughing, and do your best to stifle it by biting your lip. Nobody’s looking at you, too focused on getting their own workload somewhat finished before clocking out. You’re pretty frivolous with emojis and were sure it annoyed Oz with how many you send unnecessarily but this is something else. There’s a little purple heart from him on your phone. Renowned thug and criminal Oz Cobblepot sent you a love heart. It’s the same as the one next to his name on your phone and it doesn’t leave your mind for the rest of the day. Maybe he does feel like things are a little more than an arrangement, you can hope anyways.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to bring it up to Oz over the next few days, Carmine had finally found suitable punishment for the other night. He’d been kept at the club (and doing other ‘odd jobs’ you’re sure) every night that week. It was ridiculously transparent to the both of you but Oz said nothing. He’d been able to sneak in a dinner video call with you Thursday night – he was sat in his office picking at whatever the chef had prepared for him while music blared in the background. You couldn’t hear each other too well but it was sweet nonetheless. It was short lived however when Carmine barked at Oz to come with him from off camera.

You smirked at the face on Oz, totally fed up with listening to the older man as he set down his knife and fork. You moved around your own food on the plate, not so hungry now at the sound of his boss appearing. You also knew that your ready-meal was hardly a fraction of the cost of Oz’s dinner. You gave him a wolf whistle when he stood up from his seat, giving you full display of his crotch and stomach. He grabbed at the phone and told you to shut up – failing miserably at hiding a grin as he moved through the room. You blew a kiss goodnight and said you’d see him tomorrow night. As always, he told you sweet dreams but there was a split second of hesitation in his eyes before he hung up. It made your heart flutter for the rest of the night. Even when you were watching tv before bed, you picked at your lip and wondered what he wanted to say. You think you already know.

For once in your life the Friday workday actually goes by smoothly. You were prepared for it to move at a snail’s pace, but there was a buzz in the air of your department. A lot of people were gathered around one computer to look over the large menu. There was some debate about the desserts from your colleagues, and you were inevitably brought in to give your verdict. You hadn’t heard from Oz yet, no morning text or anything. It struck you as odd, but you did your best to ignore it.

It wasn’t until you were heading home that you finally heard from him. He apologized profusely and said something had come up last night which you didn’t think of much of until he’d mentioned he was only awake now. What the fuck has Falcone got him doing? He tells you he has to shower and shave before he arrives for dinner. You would let him off for the night but it’s endearing that he still wants to come by.

One of the women in the office offers to swing by and pick you up and you jump at the chance. You won’t feel as awkward showing up alone. You’d met her husband a few times before and he was actually good fun at these kinds of things. He knew enough of the office drama to keep up with whatever inside jokes were making the rounds. She had turned in her seat to ask was Oz coming and let out a squeal when you said yes.

“What does he do?” her husband asks, as he takes a left turn towards the restaurant. The city’s packed already with plenty of people enjoying the longest day of the year. Well, with what little light Gotham ever got in the first place.

“He owns a nightclub” you answer, hoping he doesn’t ask anything more.

“Eh, not just a nightclub. He owns the Iceberg!” your friend chimes in, not having any of your vagueness.

"Shit! Really? He wanna pay for dinner tonight?” he laughs and glances at you in the back.

“Don’t ask him, ‘cos he will!” you laugh back and they both cheer excitedly as he starts to pull into a parking space. You can see most of the others already waiting outside the door for you three. You smooth over your dress once more before stepping out, another gift from Oz. You greet everyone sincerely but keep an eye for the sports car. Some of the others are starting to head inside while you keep looking around for him. You’re sure he’ll be here soon and follow suit inside to find your least favourite co-worker arguing with the manager. Something about your table not being ready on time, but you glance at your phone to see you’re technically early. Typical Ryan.

You join in a conversation with your friend and her husband again as they start to mumble about the pointless argument happening in front of you. If he keeps this up, you’re likely to all get kicked out. Your snickering is broken by the roar of an engine outside the front door, and you already know before you turn around. You give your friend a squeeze on the arm to tell her you’re just heading outside for a second.

“Give me a blow-by-blow replay, I don’t want to miss him getting punched” you whisper loudly, and the others turn to smirk your direction as you move away.

The doorman opens the front door with a smile as you step back into the warm air. Oz is giving the violet car one last lookover before he sees you. You feel butterflies again in your chest when he looks at you, and truth be told you had missed him the last few days. He’s dressed well in a fitted black suit and white dress shirt and he moves his arms out to give you a good look.

“You look really good, Ozzie” you grin and you can feel yourself blush a little bit. He does look hot. And he’s getting a little better at taking compliments since you got together you’ve noticed.

“Just for you, babe” he croons, bringing a hand to the back of your neck to give a deep kiss. It’s the kind you’re used to getting after a dinner date with him, a sure-fire sign he’s going to fuck you good later on. He feels your surprise at the heated kiss, and pulls back to give a cocky grin. Knowing full well what it does to you.

“I missed you, y’know” he mumbles as he offers you his arm. You hum a reply of acknowledgement and agreement just loud enough for him to hear. When you take his arm, he wraps his hand overtop like usual. What might look like a loving exchange at first glance is really just to help him up the steps without aggravation from his leg. He always gives your hand a firm squeeze afterwards as silent thanks. The scent of his aftershave only really hits you when you step inside, the air conditioning making it swirl inside your head as you go through to the reception area.

Your friend hears the door close and glances back, turning fully when she sees you both. You can see the wide-eyed response as she looks over Oz and subtly nudges her husband. He’s not as subtle and gives her a strange look before realising what she’d meant by it. You feel Oz breathe a little heavier before he speaks. You wonder if he’s as nervous as you are.

“How you doin’? I’m Oz!” he extends his hand out to your friend first, giving that same confident grin he’s known for. She’s a little taken aback, only noticing his face full of scars as she shakes his hand.

“Great to meet you! I’m Shauna and this is my husband, Elijah! I’d say we’ve heard so much about you – but someone likes to play their cards close to their chest” she teases while Oz shakes hands with Elijah. Oz just gives you a fond look and squeezes you at his side, you can see Shauna beam at the sight. You feel yourself doing the same.

“That’s partially my fault, I’m a pretty private guy” he responds, and catches Elijah giving a comically raised brow.

“Hey! I know! What’s a guy like that doin’ with a nightclub?” he laughs, his actual laugh booming around the small space. It’s not the fake polite one he’s done before when talking to some crooked cop or city official in the Lounge. It’s nice to see him like this, like your life together is somewhat normal.

Okay, maybe cool it a little with the ‘life together’ stuff. It’s a work dinner, come on.

The others hear his laugh and look over, quickly averting their eyes as they either recognise him or just know by looking at him that they shouldn’t be. Even the manager, who has ended up roping in a few servers into the argument pauses to see where the sound is coming from. There’s an instant look of recognition on his face as he calls Oz over to him at the door. Oz moves his head to see who’s calling to him and a large grin breaks the look of annoyance that he had.

“What the hell are you doin’ here! You workin’ the kitchens still or are you too good for that now?” he teases, bringing you through the small crowd of your colleagues to speak a little better.

The manager has to be in his late twenties, hell of a job to get so young.

“I’m sorry, doll. This is Paulie, used to work at the Lounge when he was a kid. Look at you, huh?” he explains with a wheezy laugh. He looks visibly more relaxed as he and Paul talk about work.

“Guess I got plenty experience working for you, sir” he admits a little coyly, but Oz claps him on the shoulders with a certain affection.

“More than enough, God knows you dealt with more shit than anyone else workin’ here, kid” he points a finger to his chest to reinforce the message.

“Are we going inside or not?” Ryan interjects, a certain whining tone that’s unmistakably him.

Oz gives a hard look at the man, who was obviously reared without manners.

“What’s your problem?” he grunts out, his eyes looking a little too long at Ryan’s quickly reddening face. You can tell by Oz’s face he’s trying to place him.

“He’s complaining that his group table wasn’t ready, when he’s early” Paul tells him, only infuriating Ryan more. He’s clenching and unclenching his fist, but truthfully he just looks like a dickhead. He doesn’t have it in him to do anything.

“Would you mind getting it ready, Paulie?” Oz asks politely with a shake of his hand, a couple hundred-dollar notes for his trouble. Paul just gives a slow nod and thanks Oz, whispering to the other servers to get the long table ready double time. Paul lets you and Oz go first into the dining room and you can hear Ryan grumbling from behind the group as he follows.

“That was nice, babe. Thank you” you whisper to him, but he just shakes his head a little and squeezes at your hip again. A non-verbal “no problem, doll”. You can practically hear it. As promised the table is set in record time and Oz pulls out your chair for you before he settles into the one at your left. You’re both at the far end of the long table but thankfully you don’t work in a large department. He begins to shuffle out of his blazer, and you help him take the garment off his broad shoulders to rest against the oak chair. You always tell him how handsome he looks in his braces and tonight is no different. He rests his right arm along the back of your chair, hand idly playing with the back of your necklace with the gentlest of touch you could have mistaken for a breeze.

Even in a somewhat casual setting he commands the attention of the room, there’s more than a few looks from other patrons of the restaurant. The low lighting only emphasises his scars you think but where others cower you are drawn in further. A server is over shortly, and begins taking drinks orders. Oz surprises you by getting a red wine rather than his usual scotch on the rocks. Is he trying to be a little more suave? You don’t mention anything you just give him a smile when you order your own drink. Once everyone is taken care of, Shauna is the first to thank him for getting them seated so quickly. The others begin to pipe in the same sentiment and you can see Ryan get visibly more irritated as they give thanks.

But Oz takes no notice of him, instead he blushes a little bit – only around the ears when he’s embarrassed as you’ve noticed. He tells them it’s nothing but you give his leg a squeeze like he does with you and he gives another warm smile. Your drinks show up at that moment, and he graciously thanks the young girl with a nod of his head as he hands you your drink. You see him eye Ryan again when he turns his head to the server. You lean in and ask if he’s alright.

“I know I fuckin’ know that guy” he mumbles into the glass, dark eyes not leaving the man across you. You brush it off, thinking it’s one of those times Oz swears he’s seen an actor before and it irritates him until he remembers where. To make matters worse, you aren’t allowed check the internet – because he’ll “get it eventually”. You’d been awoken several times to Oz shaking your arm to tell you the name of the guy in that movie you saw a week ago, as if you had any fucking clue what he was talking about at 2am.

The conversations throughout the dinner are light, and the drinks heavy. All in all it’s going pretty well, Oz has settled in nicely and is building a nice rapport with the other men of the group. You can tell that they’re all a little afraid of him, but are eager to know him better. Like that older kid and school that could easily beat the shit out of you, or invite you over for dinner at his house in the same breath. Shauna nudges you at one point while Oz is telling some reworked story he’d told you (now significantly more law abiding).

“Is it just me or has Ryan been somewhat okay?” she whispers in your ear.

You nod and think about it. He’s usually the messy drunk at these kinds of things, you had expected the fight earlier to turn into a screaming match like you’d seen before. You both freeze for a second when he abruptly stands from the table to go to the bathroom. You both look at each other.

“I mean I’m tipsy but I’m not that drunk that he could have heard that” she says a little puzzledly. You wave her off.

“He probably has to call his mother - she’s wondering why the basement is so quiet” you mutter back and join in her cackling response. Your laughter has barely died down when he’s back, a little too quickly. He’s much more lively now, trying to talk over Oz and the other guys. You internally cringe and wait for Oz to tell him off, but he’s just staring at him. Your eyes move from Oz to Ryan who’s currently talking a mile a minute before you see Oz’s jaw clench and the hand behind your neck stop it’s movements.

“What?” you lean into him again, the smell of his aftershave hitting you all over again. FOCUS. Something weird is going on.

“I know how I know him now. He’s a fuckin’ drophead. The worst kind at that, the kind that owes me fuckin’ money” he grits out between his teeth. Disdain is evident on his face and your glad the others are too interested in Ryan’s sudden new lease of life.

“Ozzie, I can’t have this guy go fuckin’ missing over dinner” you warn sternly and he turns his head quickly – almost bumping noses in the process.

“I’m not gonna kill the bastard” he says indignantly before realising what he’s said. You both glance around the table and are relieved to see nobody’s paying attention.

“I’m not goin’ to do that, besides I wouldn’t get my money that way” he sniffs and picks at a stray thread on his napkin. He knows to leave it now, and sort it out later. Well, that is if he’s not set off by some stupid shit Ryan says. And if you know him at all, he’s bound to do it.

Watching him now, it’s so obvious he was messing with drops. You all just presumed he was an asshole cos he was drunk, not completely out of his mind. He was paranoid at the best of times, spreading rumours that he’s being targeted by higher ups. You think he mustn’t recognise Oz, he’s far too cowardly to sit across from the man he owes a couple grand to. At least you think he is. It could just be sheer stupidity on his part.

Eventually, he starts getting louder. Other diners looking over at the commotion as he tells an exaggerated story you’re positive you heard on some Netflix special a while ago. You can feel Oz getting more tense beside you, fingers tapping at the chair behind you absentmindedly. You bring a hand to his thigh again when he realises. His large hand returns to your shoulder, cupping around to keep you close. Ryan spots the wordless exchange, wide eyes almost completely black in the light.

“Where are you from Oz?” he questions. You can tell by his tone he already knows the answer. Oz’s accent is unmistakably from the heart of the city. A Jersey boy through and through. He makes no bones about people knowing he grew up poor, but he takes a big issue with people looking down their nose at him for it. He’ll never be a fake.

“What do you mean ‘where I’m from’? What the fuck do you care where I’m from? It’s none of your business” he sneers back, and you feel your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets at the sound. You thought whiskey drunk Oz was the fighter, wine drunk Oz is far more incensed at things like this. The others stop their own laughter and stories at the other end.

“Oz…” you whisper, squeezing his thigh again but it’s pointless. He’s already talking before you can catch his attention. Ryan looks completely dazed now, not following what’s happening even when he’s the instigator.

“You wanna know things about me? Why don’t you write me a little email?” he continues, left hand making a typing motion as he speaks.

“I’ll write you back real quick. Where do you live?” He shoots back another sneer, relishing in Ryan’s embarrassment now. The drugs in his system give him a little boost of bravado however, and he tries to talk back.

“Why don’t you com-” he says, pointing a shaky finger at Oz before he’s interrupted.

“Where do you live actually? I can hand deliver a letter to you!” Oz barks out with a harsh laugh. One that the other guys are unsure if they can join. He notices it and raises his hand a little off the tablecloth.

“I’m just busting your balls, kid” he chuckles, and you can feel the relief in the air.

You know better than them though, that kid struck a nerve with Oz. He can play it off as smooth as he likes but you know most of his insecurities by now. You lean in to his ear again and he turns slightly to listen.

“Play nicely, or you’re not getting your dick wet tonight” you murmur quietly.

You feel his own smirk, and see the way the corner of his eyes crinkle with delight at your words. You pull away from him slowly, maintaining eye contact as you await his response. He holds your stare and bends his head to kiss your bare shoulder in acquiescence. It’s a rather intimate display and it catches you by surprise. It brings a smile to your face to see him reel himself back in under your guidance. He can always break Ryan’s legs another time he decides.

The arrival of the check removes the last of the tension at the table, well the uncomfortable kind anyways. Oz is a quicker draw than the rest, handing the credit card to the sever swiftly. There’s uproar from the table before Shauna shouts.

“I have the boss’ card!” she says, waving the card frantically for the server.

Oz raises his hands like he’s being interrogated and lets out another laugh. The table roars when he says he’d rather it be the boss’ money than his anyways. You roll your eyes at him when he returns the card to his slacks’ pocket. He’s in a better mood, you wonder if that anger from earlier could be repurposed for your benefit. You like your chances. You lay it on thick while the others grab their things. Hand moving dangerously close to the goal before falling short.

“Bring me home, Ozzie?” you ask coyly.

You watch him bite the inside of his cheek at that.

“I could listen to you say that for the rest of my life, sweetheart” he answers with a chaste kiss to your lips.

You know he means it. And you could say it for the rest of his life too. You consider the dreamlike life he would graciously give you, dinners like this every other night when he’s not cooking for you at home. He still maintains he has to give you a proper home cooked Italian meal at his place but you both get distracted. A lot.

You give him a hand getting the blazer back on and before you know it you’re both in the Maserati. You’d said goodbye to everyone, and gave thanks again to Shauna and Elijah as they headed back to their own car. Oz instinctively takes your hand once he’s pulled out of the spot into traffic. Running the wide thumb across the back of your hand. It feels normal again, like you hadn’t spent the majority of the week apart ‘cos of his shitty boss – or that he’d basically threatened a co-worker.

“Thanks for coming again, Ozzie. I appreciate it, y’know?” you speak over the radio. He takes a peek at you from his seat and the thumb on your hand digs in a little.

“Don’t have to thank me, babe. I needed the break from the club anyway”

“From Carmine?” you question and watch him nod as he takes a turn.

You don’t want to poke any further and you most definitely want to bring up Falcone of all people and ruin your night together. You want to steer the conversation and his mind away from that shithole.

“You looked real handsome tonight, babe” you say nonchalantly, watching his strong brow quirk upwards at your praise.

“You angling for somethin’, doll?” he replies. As good as he’s gotten with compliments he still shies away when he can.

“What do I need to butter you up for? You give me whatever I want, when I want – Remember?”

That wicked smile comes back tenfold now. You know exactly what to say to rile him up, and you see him shift in his leather seat a fraction. The digital speedometer starts to climb the closer he gets to the penthouse and you can’t hide the smugness anymore.

It’s still light outside when he pulls into the underground lot, the interior of the car lighting up a vibrant indigo at the sudden change. He parks up at his spot in record time and he makes no show of patience when he opens your door to give a deep kiss. It’s exactly like before dinner, but this time you don’t have to sit through other people’s presence. You head up to his apartment from the elevator, his fingers dancing along your spine as you stand next to him. You think of how out of all the times you’ve ridden in this elevator, you’ve never met anyone else. There’s plenty cars downstairs but you never actually see anyone. They’re probably as shady in their day-to-day life as Oz is and want an even lower profile. Not that a purple sports car is keeping a low profile.

You think you must have drunk a little too much with your food, because before you realise that you’re on your back on Oz’s obnoxious bed with him littering your neck with open mouthed kisses. He’s done it so often but it hasn’t ever gotten boring. Each time he brings his tongue to grace your skin you shudder at the feeling like it’s the first night all over again. Your hands are flat against his wide back and you can feel the muscle twitch as he presses himself to you. All the while grinding his hips between your legs. You feel your mouth fall open to speak without thinking.

“I thought you were gonna make that sad fuck cry at the table tonight” you mumble into his ear. A hearty laugh comes from him before he trails his mouth up to your jaw and then your lips.

“Would you have liked that? Seem to remember how wet you were when I split my knuckles last week” he grunts out as he grinds himself harsher against you now. You swallow and give a shaky moan at his words and it only spurs him on.

“Yes, Ozzie” you sigh as you try push your own hips down on him. Your face is beyond flushed you can practically feel the heat in the air. It begins to heat once more when you a thought enters your head.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmur again, Oz stops his ministrations to give you his attention. A hand comes to hold your face the way he likes, thumb brushing over your already swollen lips.

“Anything” he swears. You stare at him for a second, taking in his own flushed face. You can spot a bead of sweat already lining his forehead.

“Do you have like…brass knuckles?” you ask, head a little fuzzy.

He takes a moment to process what you’ve asked. Of course he does, why are you asking now?

“Yeah, doll. In a drawer somewhere, why?” he lets out a small laugh, almost nervous. Are you afraid because of what he said?

“I want you to wear ‘em when you fuck me” you tell him. The words coming out in a rush. The hand on your face goes flat against the side of your cheek. He’s admiring you, you realise. You’re a far cry from the person you used to be and it only hits you now. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be seeing this guy or accepting his blood money and you shouldn’t be asking him to fuck you while he has a weapon on him. But you are. You’re too far gone at this stage. What would have happened if you had cancelled that night of your friend’s party? You’d be innocent for sure. But you wouldn’t be this happy.

“You’re a dirty girl, ain’t you? Did I do this to you, baby?” he slurs a little.

Wine drunk Oz is far more provocative than normal, and you’re enjoying it. He’s got an almost painful hard on pressed against your clothed cunt. Worked up from dry humping and making out on his bed, but your request makes him see stars if he was honest. You can’t even make the effort to answer him, just nodding dumbly at the sentiment.

“Stay right there for me, sweetheart” he tells you with another searing kiss before he shuffles backwards off the bed. You throw a hand over your face, trying to get any relief from your heated skin but it’s useless. You can hear a drawer open in the far corner where his extensive wardrobe lies. A second later he’s back on top of you, spread legs straddling over you. You could squeeze his thick thighs forever you think and he’d gladly let you. You want to work out every knot in his body.

The spiral of thoughts are stopped in their tracks when you see them. Gold glittering from the light of the city below you. They fit his heavy hands perfectly you realise, obviously moulded to his taste. You can feel your heart stutter a little at the sight of him, shirt undone almost all the way and hands at his side. He’s breathing heavily like he did when he had that guy against the wall of the 44 and you feel adrenaline pump through every vein in your body.

You rise up on your elbows as much as they can support you. You’re definitely tipsier than you thought, but this has to be the best idea drunk you has ever had. He brings his right-hand to your face slowly, so not to freak you out at the contact of the metal. It feels electric on your skin, the cool relief your flushed face was searching for is finally found. He can’t touch you as well as he’d like but you don’t care. You can only imagine how wet you must be and you let out a groan as he caresses your face with the jewellery.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asks you so gently as he turns his hand over, enjoying the view.

It’s so soft you’re amazed you heard him at all. You lick your lips and give another nod. In return he offers you an almost proud smile. Of your request, or his ability to indulge you you’re not sure. Not that it matters.

“Take off your dress for me, honey” he murmurs, like you’d refuse him.

Without a second thought you do your best to pull it off your clammy body and he can’t help much with his hands in his defence. You’d kill him if he ruined that outfit. Once it’s off and hits the floor you grab either side of his hips and he almost recoils in surprise. You look him in the eye before licking a long stripe up the middle of his dark chest. You can taste his cologne that he put on hours ago, mixed in with his own scent. You’d wanted to do this for a while but he’s still hesitant with you near his chest. You don’t understand it but praise him when he lets you get this close. You want to continue this little game of him being in charge, however.

“I love how you taste, Ozzie” you tell him, delighting in his gasps.

You move your head slightly to the swell of his chest and suck a deep mark into the plump flesh. He actually moans at that, bringing his hand to the back of your head to keep you there. He lets his own head roll back a little as you continue to lap at the hot skin. You bring a hand up to join the fun, giving his pec a firm pinch between your fingers before you take his nipple into your hot mouth.

A hearty groan comes from his throat at the feeling and he opens his eyes to see you enjoying yourself at his pleasure. His breaths are deeper and laboured now, he pulls you back from his chest. The cooler air of the apartment rushing around the abused flesh as you leave it. You look entirely fucked out of it now, and he’s barely touched you so far. It’s driving him insane.

“Lie back down for me, doll” he coos and you do so without question.

It’s fun letting him be in charge for once. You sink into the cool sheets and watch him undo the hook and eye of his trousers. It’s so much hotter when he keeps the thick braces on his broad shoulders. You open your legs as wide as they’ll go, that initial burn of resistance from the first night long forgotten now. It’s all muscle memory with him and it’s a comfort.

His dick is already beginning to leak profusely it’s almost cute in a way how much he’s enjoying this game. He brings his left hand to run down your chest, watching the skin goosebump in reaction to the cool metal adorning his fist. You twitch involuntarily as you watch it travel your body until he gets to your lower stomach. He’s slightly rougher there, knowing it gets you wetter as he externally massages your g-spot. Your chest begins to rise and fall rapidly at his touch and you think you can see him smile a little as you watch him pump himself in hand. He’s enjoying the feeling of the brass knuckles on himself as well. After a few seconds, the hand on your stomach goes lower to rest on top of your mound. He digs the heel of his palm in to expose your clit to the air and to him. You feel like you’ve been waiting forever but that’s not true. Oz is never a tease, he likes to spoil you too much. He’s said it himself plenty of times.

He shuffles a little closer now, rubbing the head of his reddening cock against your swollen clit. A simultaneous gasp comes from both of you before he drags his dick lower through your folds. He can feel exactly how much you’re enjoying this and it’s just spurring him on. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, not even when he was younger fucking anything with a pulse. He doesn’t want to waste anymore time for either of you, and starts to sink into you as much as you allow. There’s practically no resistance however as your insides welcome the intrusion quickly. The hand that was guiding him in goes back to the side of your face, making sure you watch his expression as he bottoms out. That intensity he gets whenever he first enters you is back in his dark eyes, and it’s the same look he gives before he snaps at someone or tells them off physically. He’s a passionate man, but you don’t think he’s ever admitted it to anyone.

He starts to move his hips slower than you’d like. You want him rougher tonight, but he’s too gentle in the beginning as always. It’s another endearing detail about him. He has no qualms about hurting anyone but you, even involuntarily. You can feel the muscles in his shoulders tense as he tries to start of slow and you know just what to say to make him lose any self-restraint. You pull his head down to kiss you before you move to his ear and moan deep and long. You can feel his slow rhythm falter and you know you’ve got him.

“I love your cock, Ozzie” you sigh dreamily and you mean it. You think about it all the time, you know for a fact your work productivity has plummeted since meeting him and you have an inkling he’s the same. Hovering around his phone during meetings with Carmine, waiting to hear from you about the things you’ve spent his hard-earned cash on.

You get exactly what you wanted when your words hit him, a deep grunt coming from his chest before he takes one of your thighs in hand and pushes it against your torso. The roughness of his calloused palms and fingers is broken by the rigid metal pushing his fingers apart and you push your own hips down against him as much as you can from this position.

“That all you can fuckin’ think about? You’re here in bed with a guy like me and you can only say you love my cock? You think your friends at dinner know who I am?” he grits out. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was pissed off, but it’s just how he gets when he’s turned on you’ve come to notice. He gets a little prouder, a little more possessive.

You play along and nod again, mouth falling open when he starts to slam his hips against you. You can feel him almost pull out the entire way before he pushes back in. The slap of your skin together is filling your ears along with his words.

“You saw me nearly hit that guy earlier, and all you could think about was me fuckin’ you like this?” he sneers again, but it’s not malicious. Not with the way he kisses across your face, any bit he can get to. It’s the same rough and tender way he is in everything.

“Say it” he grunts out, left hand now digging in painfully into your thigh as he pumps into you faster. His other hand cups your face entirely, thumb pressed into the dip of your chin to keep you where he wants you.

“It’s all I think about” you confess in a hushed whisper and you see the way he has to close his eyes to focus on not finishing there and then.

He pulls out of you in the next second and you think you’ve done something wrong before he gasps at you to get on your stomach. Your brain is blank at this point from being so close to finishing. He grabs a silk pillow and slots it under your hips like it’s not going to be ruined. Like it costs nothing. One hand spreads the cheek of your ass, and you feel his blunt fingernails scratch the raised flesh. The sting is cooled by the presence of the warming metal but it still gives you a shiver when he pulls it to expose your wet pussy. Your face down in the covers now, feeling completely overheated and exposed the way you wanted.

He pushes back in and he hisses behind you at the angle, you’re taking him deeper now than in missionary. And he knows you enjoy the way his stomach pushes you into the sheets, even if he can’t quite understand it himself. He resumes his punishing pace, right hand cupping your shoulder to push you back onto his cock. His index finger brushes against the back of your ear softly, still wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. As if you aren’t close to crying from how close you are grinding into the plush pillow underneath you.

“I’m gonna have to fuck you like this in Carmine’s office one of these days, y’know that?” he spits out as he moves to cover your body with his. His mouth is hot at your ear now, one hand slipping underneath you to rub roughly at your clit. You almost jump out of his arms when the metal glides over the slick skin but he keeps you there. You always try to shy away from his touch when it’s overwhelming but you love it when he makes you face it head on.

“When it’s your office, Ozzie?” you pant out and you feel his dick twitch a little inside you. He loves when you talk to him like that, remind him that he’s going to be in control one day. His teeth graze your ear at that and he fucks you even deeper somehow.

“Will you fuck me like this on that pool-table, baby? Please?” you cry out with a little smile and you can feel him start to bite and kiss at the flesh of your neck. That chain of his hitting at your shoulder blade with his harsh movements. His free hand holds your head between his thumb and forefinger, but it nearly covers your entire face with the way he’s moving so frantically. You’d mentioned it to him before in passing at a late-night game with Falcone and his thugs. Oz had to pretend he was getting a call when you went to the private bathroom to wait for him. You knew it’d rile him up to no end to picture you bent over it, but he had to make to with the marble countertop of Carmine’s personal en-suite in the upstairs office.

“I’ll fuck wherever you want, sweetheart. Just say the word, and I’ll do it” he grins and you can feel from his thrusts he’s getting sloppy the closer he gets to finishing. You do your best to grind down on his palm and back against him to get yourself there. You would try to quieten down but you can’t help yourself this late in the game. It’s all too much. You bring your hand to cup the back of his own head, turning as much as you can to catch his dark eyes.

“I’m yours, sweetie” you get out between moans, eyes almost fluttering shut as you grind against his now sopping hand between your legs one last time.

You feel the way you involuntarily grip his cock as you cum that he’s losing it entirely. He pushes you down against the sheets harder now after telling him you’re his and his alone. He’s still fucking you through it that you almost go into a daze before he pulls out again. To be honest, you hadn’t thought he had it in him to stop again. He rolls you onto your back once more, relishing in how dishevelled you look lying there for him. He takes himself in hand again and finishes on your chest when your eyes meet. His head rolls back again, and you bring your shaky hands to rub soothingly into his stomach and hips as he cools down. The sight of him touching himself with the brass knuckles on is something you hope you never forget. You want every detail seared into your brain.

You’re both panting heavily after that and you expect Oz to get a rag to clean you up. He’d never finished on you before, always deep inside. It was unusual but with what you had asked of him, it was fair. Instead of fetching a facecloth from his sink, he bends down once more to lick the cum off you. Wide tongue leaving patches of spit on your chest as he cleaned you. He hums loudly to himself as he does so and you feel as though you could die happy at the sight of him. When you’re sufficiently cleaned, he rises up to give you an open-mouthed kiss, you moan heartily at the taste of him while your tongues slide over each other. He pulls back a fraction, eyes boring into yours while staying half-lidded somehow before he says it.

“I love you” he murmurs unconsciously almost to himself. Your own eyes widen a little, too drunk and too tired to believe what you just heard. He hears what he said a few seconds too late and before he can pull away and apologise you wrap your arms around his neck and return his deep kiss. You whisper your own confession and he looks more flushed than he had a few moments ago. You don’t say anything else, there’s no need to. Not right now anyways. He just watches you for a second, hand gently caressing your cheek once more. You lean into it now, and kiss along the inside of his palm. He lets out a small hum at the feeling before leaving you with a chaste kiss as he gets fully undressed for bed.

Your legs feel like jelly as you crawl up to the headboard and under the covers. You see him place the brass knuckles on his bedside table before he knocks the soaked pillow off the bed entirely. There’s a soft smile on your face when he joins you and pulls you close to him. You can still get that scent of his cologne when you cuddle into his chest. He gives one last little peck to the top of your head as you start to doze off.

It's unfortunately one of those sleeps where you close your eyes and open them to the bright morning, feeling no rest or comfort in slumber. You groan a little at the light, Oz had forgotten to close the curtains before he’d left to get you. You roll slowly onto your back, not without its difficulty and realise you can hear him in the kitchen again. By the look of the outside, it must be afternoon. The city looks busier than ever from up here you think. You rub a hand over your face and swallow a deep yawn before you try find your phone and confirm the time. Shauna had sent you a few pictures from the night that you can’t remember taking in the bathroom but they’re cute. You send her back a message of thanks and look through your other texts. There’s nothing out of the ordinary you find and you go onto twitter. You know it’s not good to open social media like a newspaper when you wake up, but it’s a habit.

You see a dm from one of your friends and expect to see a meme about Gotham but your jaw drops at what you see. She sent a “??????????????????????” message with a screenshot of some tabloid page. It’s two pictures of you and Oz from last night at the restaurant. You frantically click into it, and see tons of traction on the pictures. One is of you whispering in his ear, his heavy arm slung over the back of your chair with a smirk on his face. The other is when he kissed your shoulder.

“OZ!” you shout from the bedroom.

#oz cobblepot #oz cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot #ozzie can be bossy as a treat #milk and roses

[knightofhylia]

Life Overview

It's been a while since I've used this deck and the spirit is rather shy so I did the Life Overview spread for myself for those who like to see before they try tarot!

Me

What potential exits in me now? To be honest, all the potential. Through a mix of good and bad life events (moving, changing jobs) I have a LOT of free time. I definitely am not sitting in the lap of luxury so that is about the only hindrance to the growth. But that being said there is a lot I can do without financial support, my main issue is just choosing a focus (it'sa AuDHD). I'm my own limit and my own roadblock (as usual). Trying to figure out what I want to focus on leads to a lot of reprioritizing and stuff gets thrown out. Currently, I'm still sorting through, creating and aborting projects as they come along.

Family

What have I learned from my visit to the underworld? Well, I have been in recovery of Borderline Personality Disorder for a few months and I'm only getting better. My therapist is extremely proud of the progress I am making. In her 15 years od doing therapy she has only cleared 3 people of being fully recovered from BPD and I intend to be the 4th! Being in the process of recovery has taught me so much. I know when a lot of people see stuff about people overcoming depression or any number of mental illnesses they think 'that can't be me, I'm unfixable' and for 20+ fucking awful miserable years my husband made me get my act together. Recovery feels BAD people. There is nothing glorious about being in your 20s having to fill out emotion charts and hygiene routines and food menus like a preschooler BUT IT WORKED. Now, I can't even remember the last major mood swing I had? it's been years since I last self harmed? I'm comfortable in my body and my friendships? I get along with my family?

And the part about the ancestors is right in light with ancestor month coming in November. I've been pretty hesitant to do ancestor work because of how little information I have, and my history with my relatives. I have been noticing my abusive dad's spirit's influence around and I am nervous about interacting with him spiritually (to be clear, not as a threat, I've asked my guides many times if he is a threat and no, they are filtering his interactions, but that obviously means that they want us to interact).

Friends

lord knows I have had some pretty tumultuous friendships in the past few years. I've been getting dreams about friends from ELEMENTARY school I used to roleplay sonic with and had messy fall outs with, like cmon that was 2 decades ago!! But they are all pointing to the same thing. I've had to cut so many people out, distance myself, it's taken a lot to be able to finally have a comfortable give and take with my friends :) No one is constantly begging me for money anymore, or getting jealous or competitive, we all build each other up and have vast interests and hobbies! during this quarantine after being trapped with my so-called-bestie and having that messy fallout, then being isolated in a new town, the wound has been slow to heal. But I'm at the point where I just don't give a fuck about any of the shit that happened anymore because it's not relevant now. I am definitely seeing my relationships in difference angles from this view.

Love

I think I'm more of the guide in this one lol as a poly marriaged person who has been dating for like 3 years with fucking zero zilch nada to show for it :'). Mostly people who get scared off when we set a single boundary or too immature in too many ways. Not that I haven't dated or had fun relationships but I haven't felt anything NEAR a connection like I have had with my husband even back when we were roomies. As an poly autistic person my platonic and romantic boundary is pretty blurry. Usually like first week of talking to a new friend I'm like damn do I have a romantic crush? Then I'm like nope just new person friend energy. Well it's been a few months and now I'm laying on the floor listening to mitski, hillary duff,and fob so you know they've been haunting my dreams and psyche🙄cringe right? my goofy ass downloaded pokemon go to catch some hearts, and now my husband is playing it with me so it's kinda of a win win either way LOL (hashtag poly life). and to think 7 years ago I was playing Pokemon Go with my roomie so we didn't have to go back to the apartment and deal with my cheating boyfriend and bedbugs.... now we are married 3 years with 4 cats and a mortgage <3 I could not be able to love like I do now without being shown what unconditional love truly with from my spouse <3

Career

Are theyre bonds I still have strong? Oh yes. This card directly correlates to what all my cards across many decks say when I ask them about career. They all talk about community, networks, friends, building things together. At first I interpreted this as 'rely on commissions to live' but now I see it is 'going to events and talking to irl people and bonding with them makes you a good customer to them and therefore they can be a good customer to you when you put yourself out there'. which is why I've been working on more tarot stuff! Another interesting thing about this, with the second question asking if someone can help, I have been considering summoning an ancestor that owes me a LOT and having them to help clear a way for our business. A lot of this is also, a lot of life events happened so the other people who are part of the business are farther away but now we can actually visit each other so working together more is the key.

Although these cards did not appear next to each other I included the duality interpretation because I believe it is still relevant that they both showed up. I think a lot about my legacy since I am doing my part and ending my bloodline :). for me that means preparing for my future reincarnations. I have some ideas for spells I want to do before my death to ensure that my next incarnations have a best astral foot forward! I'm interested in this 'desire for the taboo'. For the two cards to be in the 'career' and 'friends' spot I assume maybe this has to do with the taboo of starting businesses with your friends (which we are doing). Also 'taboo' forms of career could also mean vending and tarot commissions since they are pretty frankly looked down upon as a legit business.

Interpretation:

Life is good! Lots of themes of coming out of darkness, seeing things from different views, and renewal, but not without points to focus on. Friends and Career seem to be my weakest links right now, which both revolve around me interacting socially which like you know how that goes. Lot of things are confirmed here (my crush, my ancestors reaching out, my career path). Looking forward to doing more readings with him!

->Like this spread and deck? Get a free reading from me! <-

#jan ken post #readingskh #tarot #tarot cards #tarot deck #tarot reading #divination #cartomancy #card divination #oracle deck #oracle reading #oracle cards #life overview tarot spread #life reading #life tarot reading

[endorstoiii]

My wright #3 - I'm back

I know I've been very far from tumblr for a long time, but I had no idea my last appearance here was on Feb 20th. Long four months that, honestly, felt like just a few weeks.

I don't remember the exact reason why I got offline, but I suppose it was a huge amount of tasks (home + course), and add it tons and tons of exhaustion (mental, emotional and physical).

It's no surprise that my life only gets worse, and I'm not exaggerating or being dramatic or playing the victim. I really mean it. Also, I'm not being negative and pessimist. Nothing works for me. I am unemployed and I'm looking for a job for three years. Ok, we had a fucking pandemic in the middle of the process, but things are back to normal already and everyone I know had success after all of that. Except for me. Do you know how fucked up is it to be unemployed? It more than sucks. I only get older (and more tired) and it hinders to find a job. Not only "I am too old" to get a beginners job, but also I feel so uncapable, psicologically I am destroyed because no matter how hard I try to get my shit together, nothing works. I even get some job interviews, but I never step forward. I can't get a job as a designer. I can't get a job as anything else — I tried to get a job on many different areas, except for seller cause the pressure is way too much for me to handle (I am way too bad already, I can't get any worse or God knows what may happen) — I can't get any little ray of success at anything at all. Why? Is it me?

Honestly, I don't think I am the problem. Not anymore. I used to think I was terrible as a student, as a designer and then I would be a terrible professional as well. Plus, I am too shy and dumb, I wouldn't know what to do in much pressure, and job recruiters know that and would never approve me. But no. I know I am good in what I do. Obviously I'm not the best (and I think I don't even want to be, so that's ok), but I'm good and I deserve more. I am so attentious, cautios and passionate (finally! this would be a good topic to write about: my passion for design). And being shy and dumb? Like... Everyone is hah I know people who are even shyer and dumber, and they have a job, they do a great work. So, no. I am not the problem. So, the only answer I can think of is: external influence. I am the least spiritual person I know (another good topic to write about), but oh man, it's the only thing that makes any sense to me. I believe the horrendous, deep and negative energy of the enviroment I live in, unfortunately influences my paths. And not only to get a job, but to anything to me. For example, I can't have a date. I can't. My life is too bad, my psychologic is too bad, my emotional too bad. This is all because of this fucking shitty energy of the enviroment I live in.

Well, no surprises here. But yeah my life was a mess and got even worse. It gets worse with time. And as if everything isn't all fucked up already, my grandma (who is kinda still recovering from her knee fracture) fell of the stairs and broke her two wrists. Now, again, me and my mom have to take care of her — but this time we must keep our eyes on her all. the. time. Do you know how exhausting and demanding taking care of an old person can be??? I had no clue until last year when she broke her knee, now it's her knee and two arms. My God.

Just when I thought I was getting a bit better, I got totally worse again. But now I feel like I'm a little bit less shitty than I was a couple of months ago. Seriously, about two months ago I was so bad as I've never been my whole life :( I tried looking for psychological help but, uh oh, how will I afford it if I'm unemployed? I can't get better psychologically, I can't get better emotionally, I can't get better financially, I can't get better in any layer of life... However, these past weeks I felt a little motivation to just keep on going one day at a time, I miss tumblr and I miss my friends & mutuals, I miss doing those tagging post stuff. These are some of the things that bring me some joy :) despite feeling the worst ever, I want to be here and I want to keep on doing, cause if I don't, I will probbaly disassociate for real and I don't even know what's next.

This is probably the longest text post I've written here, but well deserved cause four months away from my safe place... It's a lot. I don't know how long this motivation phase will take, I hope it's like before. But while I'm here, I want to be here.

#no comment #personal #my wright