#being kind to your past self would be so difficult in many ways

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE DEVIL'S ADVOCATE.

Antichrist!Aemond Targaryen x female Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; dub con, p in v, fingering (with gloves 😮‍💨), dacryphilia, choking, degrading, unprotected sex, power imbalance, female reader

WORDS: 4.7 K

NOTES: Yes, this is based on American Horror Story Apocalypse. Michael Langdon is just so *phew* that I had to adapt it to Aemond. This is so self indulgent, I'm not even sorry. @kaelabear you're getting the special taglist. @arcielee thank you for beta reading this! <3

You have lost track of how many days, months, or even years have passed since your arrival in Outpost 3, and gods, you’d give it all right away to be back in one of the holding cells the government had put you in around the time the bombs rained down over King’s Landing. 

Even though you received the status as a purple upon your arrival, therefore placing you to the upper-class elites specifically selected for survival, you couldn’t be worse off. At least there you’ve been allowed to do your own thing – as far as the confines allowed you to. 

The nutritional cubes they serve you are rationed, with Ms. Misery announcing they’ll have to ration them even further in the next days, and on top of being hungry and bored, you haven’t had a good fuck in quite the while. 

Sexual contact, or any kind of copulation, is strictly forbidden, and you’ve witnessed firsthand what it means to break Miserys’ rules – not that you’d make any moves on the other residents occupying the former exclusive boys school anyways. 

It’s only been you and your hand, sometimes even your pillow, from the very beginning on until now, and truth be told? You’re sick of it. 

At some point you’ve stopped getting yourself off, only because your body longed for physical contact, for someone else’s body on your own. 

And what certainly doesn’t help with your misery is the mysterious man that arrived just a few days ago. 

When he introduced himself as Targaryen, you knew his arrival was something that came partnered with power. As much as you would have liked to focus on his speech to campaign himself, you found it was far too difficult to care about humanity being on the brink of failure when the man telling you about it was so, so damn easy on the eyes.

Just the sight of his sharp features, regardless of a part of them being concealed by a black eyepatch, has been enough to make your mouth water. And when your eyes traveled lower, taking in the way his black slacks all but hugged his toned thighs, all was lost for you. 

You’ve been grateful that Laenor pounced on him to be interviewed first, wanting to see if he'd be worthy enough to be relocated to the so-called sanctuary, because you certainly would have jumped Targaryens’ bones right then and there. 

His alluring aura, the dominance radiating off of him – it all are factors that drive your aching body to insanity. and the nights that followed you found your relief more than once with the image of him flashing right before your eyes. 

Some time has passed in which you’ve barely seen him around, only hearing of him through the stories of the other residents that have been interviewed by him; now it’s your turn to warm the large chair standing in front of the imposing Mahogany desk. 

It’s the door behind you sliding open that lets your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you fidget with your fingers to stop yourself from turning around. You don’t want to be caught staring in the first few seconds already. 

You hear your name fall past his lips so smoothly it sends a shiver down your spine. You give in to the temptation and watch him step inside with an air of mellow gratification, prowling around the desk until he eventually sits down in the empty seat across from you.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he purrs, a glint of mischief dancing in his eye. 

There comes no reply from you, instead you continue to fumble with your fingers, looking at what you assume to be your file splayed out on the desk in front of him. 

It’s the dismissive hum that rumbles in his chest that finally piques your interest, and when your gaze settles on him again, you spot him touch his chin thoughtfully as his eye skimps over the pages, seeming as if he’s reading it for the first time. 

The red gloves he wears stand in stark contrast to the otherwise colorless rest of his outfit, your gaze drawn to them like a moth to a flame. He has worn them upon his arrival already; the smooth leather shining in the dim light of the candles makes your mind wander to more indecent things. 

He tilts his head up again to meet your gaze, his smooth and calming voice ringing out. “Your genetic profile would appear to be favorable, so you can say that this interview is solely conducted as a… precaution.” Though it’s meant to be reassuring, the deliberate pause he makes doesn’t seem convincing. 

His words make you frown. “What for?” you ask, and you curse yourself for how blunt and bold your voice sounds. “Aren’t you in need of relocating the last few people that pass on good genes, now that this is the last outpost standing?” 

The genuine laugh he offers you prompts you to lean back in your seat, juxtaposing the way he leans forwards in his. Something in the arrogance that radiates off of him, and the smug smirk he has on his lips, feeds your irritation. 

“Doesn’t seem like you can afford to be picky,” you snap back at him. 

He licks his lips, and although it’s not longer than a second, your mind immediately drifts off to think about how it would feel between your legs, how he would feel between them. You try to be subtle as you shift in your seat, barely moving enough to soothe the aching that blooms at the apex of them. 

“We’re making the selections as carefully as possible,” he counters. The paper of your file is pinched between his index and thumb, rubbing it between the pads of his fingers. “We need to ensure the survival of humanity, and I’m sure you understand that we have to look for a certain level of ambition in the people we choose.”

Even though his explanation is vague, and doesn’t make much sense to you, it is strangely appealing. The word ambition is such a broad term that could mean anything from career-minded to cutthroat, yet you still have to figure out exactly what he means. 

The tension grows thicker and thicker with each passing second of silence, and you feel a warm sensation spreading inside of you from his intense gaze – which is perhaps also due to the hint of desire that gleams in his eye as he regards you. 

You try your best to ignore the way your heart races, wanting to diminish the warmth inside of you. But to no avail. 

When he rises from his seat, your heart drops into your stomach again, and your eyes grow wide with curiosity and intrigue. 

It’s a brief flicker of your eyes down his body that has you squeezing your thighs together, far too distracted by how tall he is than to notice the smug smirk that tugs at the corners of his lips. 

“Would you say that you’ve… settled here?” he asks, his voice carrying a hint of something you find difficult to decipher.  

He slowly stalks around the desk, the tips of his leather-clad fingers smoothly gliding over the dark wood. His eye lingers on your face, taking you in and assessing your reaction. His expression holds the same edge of darkness his voice does, though he isn’t hiding it as effectively as he thinks he is this time. 

Your eyes never leave his frame when he comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the desk. He’s gripping the edge of it, and even in the dim light of the candles, you notice that it’s rather tightly, almost as if he’s suppressing the urge to touch you. 

“Well, I suppose I’ve managed to adjust,” you reply. 

For a brief moment, neither of you says anything. He just stares at you with this cold precision – until you catch his eye flitting lower, trailing over your form. 

The purple gown you wear isn’t revealing at all, not that Ms. Misery would allow you to wear anything of that sort anyways. The neckline is squared with raised yet off-the-shoulder structured shoulders that leave little to the imagination – but only if you’ve been touch deprived for long enough.

And, judging by the way his jaw clenches as his eye meets yours again, you can tell it’s also been a while for him. 

The thought of it makes your blood run hot, the warmth now spreading to your cheeks. Your gaze falls to your lap, watching your fingers fumble with each other while you feel his bore into your frame. 

There’s a hum rumbling in his chest once again, but this time it sounds more like a purr, as if he finds satisfaction in your nervousness. “Are you normally this flustered in front of men… or is it just me?”

A sudden rush of excitement and embarrassment floods your veins as your mind processes his words; your head snaps back up to look at him, and you’re greeted by a teasing grin. 

“I’m not flustered,” you reply, your voice only wavering slightly, yet you know that it’s clear to him that you’re not being very honest. He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on you. 

He tsks, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I mean, I can see you,” he says, gesturing to you with his hand. “You’re licking your lips, you can’t meet my eyes for more than a few seconds, your cheeks are flushed – it’s clear your body yearns to be touched…” he trails off, smirking to himself as he briefly glances to the ground. “... by me.”

His statement catches you off-guard. A quick exhale from your nose leaves you feeling winded with the sensations of butterflies wreaking havoc within your body. 

The silence between you lingers, heavy and thick as you ponder over his words, and you decide to go all in. You glance at him sideways, before speaking. “Is that so?”

His eye darkens at your coy demeanor, and with the corners of his quirking up into a sly smirk, he reveals just a glimpse of the devil that lurks beneath the angelic exterior. “Oh, it is,” he replies with a mocking tone. “I know you’re getting off to the thoughts of me at night, sweet thing. And even right now, you’re dripping for me. It’s almost pathetic.”

He almost seems relieved as he finally reaches to trace a gentle line over your exposed shoulder, starting at the crook of your neck. His light touch and the coldness of his gloves cause you to shiver involuntarily, and makes your breathing heavy. 

As if he’s searching for something within yours, his eye narrows, and your mind races with the possibility of what such a look might signify. 

“Look at you,” he purrs, licking his pouty lips. “You’re sitting here, just waiting for me to take things a step further – all the while I could smell that sweet pussy of yours ever since I’ve stepped into the room.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words, making it difficult to swallow, and you feel yourself clench around nothing; the urge to squirm in your seat is nearly overwhelming. 

“That sweet scent of yours…” he trails off. Mesmerized by his words and confidence, you almost flinch when he pushes himself off the desk, slowly kneeling down to be on a level with you, hovering close to you like a predator pretending to pounce. 

Your breath is heavy, and with your body still facing the desk, you’re forced to turn your head to the side to meet his gaze. There are mere inches between your faces now, and you feel his minty breath fan over your lips, swollen from how often you've licked them at this point. 

He brushes a strand of hair behind your ear, and heat follows where the cold leather of his gloves ghosted over your skin. “So desperate to be touched… to be filled,” he hums. While embarrassment blossoms inside of you, there’s no amusement laced within his silky voice. It’s as if he’s just stating facts. “Or am I mistaken?” Your name topples past his lips with so much ease, it makes you imagine how it would sound moaned by him.

Your head begins to swim. His scent, his domineering aura, the warmth emanating off of him – it’s all too much and not enough. 

Meekly shaking your head, the ‘no’ you reply comes out not louder than a whisper. 

He takes in a quick breath of air, relishing in his victory. The way you submit to him, to his power and dominance, feeds something within him; a hunger that’s been growing more and more demanding from the moment he stepped into the room with you. 

“Good girl,” he purrs, slowly rising to his full height, stretching his fingers as he keeps his eye locked on you. A flush spreads over your cheeks at his praise, the subconscious urge to make him proud sending a shiver of excitement through your veins, feeding right into your desire to please him. 

He’s standing again, letting his eye drift over your sitting frame for a moment too long, trailing down your neck, over the curves of your breasts, and settling in your lap. A gloved hand comes forward to pinch the skirts of your gown between his fingers, an almost disgusted look on his features. 

“Take it off.”

“W-What?” 

“W-w-what?” he mocks, the scoff he releases filling you with shame. “Take it off,” he repeats. “Or else I will take it off of you, and that won’t be any more pleasant.”

The thought of him undressing you seems tempting. A small part of you wants to protest, to say something along the lines of ‘you can’t just demand something like this’ but the other part craves this. It feels as if it’s quintessential for your body to survive, not able to go one day longer without being touched at all. 

Rising to your feet, you smooth out the skirts of your dress before craning your neck to look up at him. He’s towering over you, hardly stepping back far enough to create any space for you to undress. 

Having always been a bit of a pain to put on, getting out of the dress was even worse. The tight fit and squared neckline leaves you with very limited mobility, meaning you’re always relying on a servant to help you get out of it. And facing these difficulties, the thought of removing it all by yourself, especially in front of him, seems almost sacrilegious. 

A thought pops into your mind, and your body is quick enough to get through with it before you can even think about it properly. 

“Care to help me?” you ask, batting your eyelashes at him. Before he can refuse, you brush your hair over one shoulder and turn around, presenting him with your back and the tightly laced corset. 

Much to your surprise, he doesn’t refuse, and you say nothing as his fingers find the lacing of your corset, gloves brushing your skin as he slowly undos the laces. 

It’s a slow process, one that builds anticipation within you, and has you squeezing your thighs together yet again. 

His caresses are light and careful at first, but they grow increasingly firm and forceful. Each tug and pull draws you closer to him, and only when you hear the same dismissive hum rumbling in his chest do you dare to glimpse at him from over your shoulder, seeing him staring at your back with his jaw set with a new purpose. 

The fabric is still pinched between his fingers when they suddenly change course, gripping the purple fabric around the lace with a bit more force than necessary. He rips open the corset in a single, harsh motion in a clear display of his impatience, the torn fabric hitting the ground with a thud, and your gown quickly follows suit. 

For a moment, you feel relief at being freed from its confines. But it’s fleeting, your skin immediately prickling as you become aware of how much of your body is exposed to him now. 

It’s weird to think that this thin layer of modesty has been enough to keep your fluttering nerves at bay, and now it’s peeled away with you knowing he’s gazing at you as if he’s been served his first meal in months. 

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity as you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as he advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. 

His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or kept them at his sides. You can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body, his cock rock hard and all but straining against your lower back, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation as you do.

His proximity is all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. 

“Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. 

Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.”

“Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

You tip your head back in frustration, meeting with his shoulder, a loud huff slipping past your lips. But you’re so close to getting what you want, there’s no way you’re giving up already. 

“Please, please touch me… Mr. Targaryen.” His name is spoken with a bit of hesitation. “I-I- please, fuck, need it so, so bad. Please.” That you’re not stomping your feet on the ground like an insolent child is everything, knowing it would push your chance for relief further away. 

But it seems to do the trick, because one gloved hand settles on your hip without him saying anything, while the other clasps around the outside of your thigh, his thumb brushing smooth patterns over your hot skin. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, his breath tickling your skin, and you slightly turn your head to lean into it. “Where else do you want me to touch, mh?”

Feeling him on every inch of your body has you far too aroused to be frustrated by his on-going teasing and stalling. “Right…” you pant, peeling his hand from your hip to bring it down between your legs, “... here.”

A quiet whine slips past your lips as his fingers make contact with your sensitive clit, the cold leather of his gloves against your hot skin striking you as a welcome surprise and sending a shiver down your spine. It feels foreign, but nice nevertheless.  

You’ve fully anticipated him to pull back again, to leave you high and dry, but he surprises you again, when he drags his fingers through your swollen folds. 

“Right here, mh?” he purrs into your ear with a husky voice. 

It’s a grazing touch that alone is enough to make your mind hazy, merely humming in return. 

He’s not doing more than rubbing your clit and brushing his digits through your folds, but you’re wet enough already for it to be audible. The squelching sounds coming from between your legs are embarrassing, clearly highlighting your desperation for him, and it only gets worse when he slips a finger inside of you. 

Taking in a sharp breath, you hold onto the desk again. “God, fuck,” you whine. 

His finger is thick enough to be accompanied with a slight burning stretch, intensifying the moment he adds another. You can’t resist the urge to grind against his hand, the base of it applying just enough pressure to your clit to numb any discomfort. 

“You like that, mh?” he rasps. “So fucking wet and desperate for my fingers, dripping all over my glove.”

A string of whiny yesses leaves your lips as the pace of his fingers increases, making it incredibly difficult for your hips to maintain the rhythm. 

Heavy breaths and pants fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on and bringing you closer to the sweet relief you’ve craved for so long. He seems to sense your impending orgasm, and works you just a moment longer, before he withdraws his fingers from you, making sure the loss would make it even worse. 

But there’s no time to whine. 

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” he teases, acting as if he’s completely oblivious to the torture he puts you through, and brings his gloved hand up to your face. 

The red leather is covered in your arousal, sticky and glistening even in the dim light. As he spreads the two fingers, a few strings of it connect the leather, and you bite your bottom lip, knowing all too well what might follow. 

“Open your mouth, pet,” he commands in a stern voice. “Clean up your mess.” 

And you comply, parting your lips and eagerly embracing him pushing them inside. Your tongue swirls around the digits, the leather tasting and feeling completely different on your tongue. 

You hardly notice that his other hand has left your thigh, and even less that he’s undoing the zipper of his slacks, pulling out his hard cock. Only when you feel the pressure against your entrance do your eyes widen, and you whine around his fingers as he pushes inside. 

Even though you are stretched from his digits, it can not compare to his cock. 

He’s filling you to the brim in one, swift thrust, and with you being gagged by his gloved fingers, you can’t do more than mewl and moan. “Fuck, tight cunt taking my cock, hm? That’s it, such a good, little pet.”

Not giving you the chance to adjust to his size, he sets up a reckless pace from the very start, his impatience running thin with the way your tightness embraces him. He fucks you as if it’s a one time thing, as if you won’t make the cut, but something inside of you tells you this is merely the beginning. 

Saliva trickles down your chin as his cock drives deeper and deeper, forcing moan after moan past your lips and his gloved fingers. It’s the sounds of skin slapping against skin, his strained grunts and your muffled whines filling the room, and if Ms. Misery were to find out, you would be tortured or killed even before the next day arrived. 

Maybe it’s the risk of being caught that drives him to his next step, but he withdraws his fingers from your mouth, gloved hand coming down to rest around your throat instead. He applies just a bit of pressure, merely meaning to hold you upright and steady to make it easier for him to use you to his liking.

You scramble for hold, sweaty palms planted flatly on the wooden surface in front of you, supporting yourself as the man behind you all but fucked every coherent thought out of your brain. 

“Look at you,” he grunts, pounding into your needy cunt. The tip of his cock brushes your sweet spot, pushing high enough to knock the air out of your lungs and make you lose yourself. “All you’ve been thinking about was my cock. So desperate to be fucked by me, huh?”

You are so full with him, his scent, his warmth, everything, that breathy whines and yesses are the only things slipping past your lips. 

He drags his nose along the side of your face, clearly relishing in the way he’s fucked you dumb with so little effort already, and you almost feel yourself come on spot the moment he presses his lips to your earlobe. 

Pushing his hips all the way into yours, he stills them for a moment, bringing up a gloved hand to spit on his fingers and before dragging them harshly over your sensitive clit, and putting you straight into a frenzy. 

The tears that were brimming in your eyes now spill and run down your flushed cheeks, hitting the desk he has you hunched over. 

“No need to cry, pet,” the man behind you drawls, a satisfaction weaved in his husky voice. “You wanted this, didn't you? Wanted my cock to fuck you stupid? Or do you want me to stop?”

Your blank mind barely processes his words, but just hearing the word stop has you finding your voice again. “N-no,” you whine, arching your back and pressing your ass back against him. “Don’t-don’t stop, Sir. ‘M so, so close.”

“Close, mh? Then fucking come for me.”

With his hand now applying a good bit of pressure to your throat and his fingers strumming your clit in a reckless pattern, you feel yourself getting lightheaded as your release hits you suddenly. 

His strained groans are hushed against your neck as you spasm around him, sucking him in hungrily. He works you through it, fucking you as you quiver and shake. Grinding against him, you ride your high out in rhythm with his thrusts, gasping each time his cock pistones inside of you. 

His hips falter slightly for a moment, caught off guard by how tightly your walls are squeezing him, but he regains his composure and sets up a brutal pace again. You’re swollen and raw by now, but he doesn't stop. 

“That’s it, fuck, I’m gonna get this pathetic cunt stuffed with my cum,” he grunts, pulling his hand from your clit to plant it on your hip. 

Each rut of his hips makes your eyes journey to the ceiling, the tears on your cheeks now dry. There are hiccuped breaths spilling from your mouth, and you can’t do more than to hold onto the desk, bracing yourself for his relentless pounding. 

With a stutter of his hips and a raspy groan escaping his throat, his cock eventually spills deep inside of you, coating your walls. He fucks it into you with deliberately slow thrusts, the last spurts of his warm release filling you to the brim.

A strained groan is audible as he pulls out, tucking himself back in his slacks, and assumes the cold demeanor he’s had before. The only courtesy he grants you is picking up your dress and underwear he’s torn off you before, holding it out for you to take. 

You get the cue, and dress yourself on trembling legs. The blonde watches curiously, leaning back against the desk again. The red gloves now lay on the desk, and you catch a glimpse of his long, ring-clad fingers. 

With flushed cheeks, you briefly look at the ground before presenting him your back again. “Do you mind?” 

He nods and steps towards you, silently lacing up your corset, and whenever his skin brushes yours, a shiver runs down your spine. His skin is soft, smooth even, and the warmth emanating from them is far more pleasant than the cold leather.

But the moment is fleeting as he quickly moves to sit down behind his desk again, a new file already pinched between his fingers. You smoothen out the skirt of your dress, merely bowing your head once, and make a beeline for the door. 

It’s his voice ringing out that stops you in your tracks, though you don’t dare to turn around. 

“I expect you to come back for your second interview tomorrow. See it as an opportunity for me to gauge whether or not you truly have the right… ambition.”

“Thank you, Mr. Targaryen,” you mumble in return, a strange sense of satisfaction and anticipation already coursing through your veins. 

Hearing your name once again, you turn your head to look at him. “There’s no need to be formal when it’s just us. You can call me Aemond.”

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[unboundprompts]

Thank you so much for your blog! It's so neatly organized, it's lovely to read. It takes a lot of commitment to do detail every post and still constantly update, and I'm very grateful for you <3

I was wondering if you could write tips+prompts for a paranoid character?

Thank you again 😺

Thank you for the kind words!! That means a lot :)

How to Write a Paranoid Character

-> sources: mind.org , betterhealth.vic.gov

Paranoia is the irrational and persistent feeling that people are "out to get you."

Things that Make Paranoia More Likely:

Having confusing or unsettling experiences or feelings that you can't easily explain.

If you are anxious or worried a lot or have low self-esteem and expect others to criticize or reject you.

If you tend to come to conclusions quickly, believe things very strongly, and don't easily change your mind.

If you are isolated.

If you have experienced trauma in the past.

Things that may Contribute to Paranoid Thoughts:

Life experiences. You are more likely to experience paranoid thoughts when you are in vulnerable, isolated or stressful situations that could lead to you feeling negative about yourself.

Experiences in your childhood may lead you to believe that the world is unsafe or make you mistrustful and suspicious of others. These experiences may also affect your self-esteem and the way you think as an adult.

If you experience anxiety, depression, or low self-esteem, you may be more likely to experience paranoid thoughts.

Paranoia is sometimes a symptom of certain physical illnesses such as Huntington's disease, Parkinson's disease, strokes, Alzheimer's disease and other forms of dementia. Hearing loss can also trigger paranoid thoughts in some people.

Lack of sleep can trigger feelings of insecurity and even unsettling feelings and hallucinations. Fears and worries may develop late at night.

Recreational drugs may trigger paranoia, such as cocaine, cannabis, alcohol, ecstasy, LSD, and amphetamines. This may happen particularly if you're already feeling low, anxious or experiencing other mental health problems.

Research has suggested that genes may affect whether you are more likely to develop paranoia.

Symptoms of Paranoia:

being easily offended

finding it difficult to trust others

not coping with any type of criticism

assigning harmful meanings to other people's remarks

being always on the defensive

being hostile, aggressive, and argumentative

not being able to compromise

finding it difficult (or impossible) to "forgive and forget"

assuming that people are talking ill of them behind their back

being overly suspicious

not being able to confide in anyone

finding relationships difficult

considering the world to be a place of constant threat

feeling persecuted by the world at large

believing in unfounded conspiracy theories

Writing Prompts for a Paranoid Person

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

Everyone was against him. No one liked to see him succeed and so they were doing everything in their power to stop him.

People were talking about her behind her back. They would whisper as she walked by, and their laughter would echo in her ears as she got further from them.

"You never believe me!" They wailed, pointing an accusing finger at their friend. "You wouldn't get it! You don't know what it's like to be hated by everyone!"

He laid in bed, staring at the ceiling and wide awake. It was a nightly routine, at this point. He could never bring himself to close his eyes. There were too many things going on his head, too many things that only made him dread when morning came.

Everything was about to go so wrong so fast, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. The impending doom beat down on her shoulders, reminding her that she was not okay. She was not safe.

They couldn't stop fidgeting with their hands. It used to offer some form of comfort, but not anymore. How could it when the whole world is against you?

They were looking at him. They were watching his every move. He was being tracked. Studied. Something was going to happen. Something bad. Something he wasn't prepared for. What could he do to be prepared?

"You think I'm crazy, but I'm not! You'll see."

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#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #creative writing #writeblr #prompt list #ask box prompts #paranoia #how to write a paranoid character #how to write #writing tip #writing characters #writing help #writing advice

[kindnessoverperfection]

I want to break down a common point of conflict when addressing NPD stigma.

A lot of hangups people have tend to be along the lines of "but I DO see a lot of people with actual NPD who are acting in toxic or abusive ways".

This will be kind of long, so bear with me.

Point #1: People are way more likely to be diagnosed if they exhibit "stereotypical" symptoms.

There's this image of NPD as a disorder that is only present in those with patterns of destructive behavior towards others. Many therapists have this conception. (Shockingly, the mental health field is not perfect & without stigma.)

Gonna copy-paste this here from my other blog (so forgive me if you've seen it before), because it's a good example.

Three people are criticized at work. Their boss yells at them for their performance in front of everyone. Person A gets mad and defensive. They yell back, using cutting remarks as a way to try and ease the distress they feel. Person B acts really mature and responsible the whole time, nodding along and agreeing and promising to do better, just desperate to maintain and improve their status. Desperate to be liked. Later they go home and handle their distress through self-destructive means, and spend the next few months overworking themself to the point of illness. Person C doesn't seem to respond much at all. They go quiet and seem distant. They don't lash out or lash in, but for the next month or so, their productivity drops. They simply aren't able to focus on work or self-care, no matter how hard they try. The stress is overwhelming. All three of these people have the same root issues, but only the first would be labeled a narcissist. Outwards behaviors and presentations don't reflect the pain, distress, and difficulties with life that are underlying them.

So, three main things happen.

There ends up being a higher rate of people with destructive behaviors who are diagnosed with NPD

The people who don't particularly exhibit behaviors and are considered ""too nice to have it"" are overlooked entirely (and never get any sort of help for their underlying issues, yayyy)

People are more likely to be more honest about "ugly" symptoms / symptoms that are frowned down upon than they are in other mental health communities.

(Also some people decide to act super edgy about it, which is annoying but here we are. Some of them are trolls.)

(And while I'm at it, some people are misdiagnosed with NPD because a psych sees someone who committed a violent crime and is like "uhh slap them with the Evil Asshole™ disorders!! no further thought given.")

Point #2: People who have messed up are not inhuman monsters who deserve no help or support

While I do think it's important for people to understand that patterns of toxic behaviors aren't the ONLY way NPD can present, I'm not going to let the conversation stop at "some of us are nice though!!"

Human beings aren't RPG characters who can be sorted into "monster" or "ally". Every single person has done something hurtful, has messed up, exhibits some sort of behavior that puts strain on their relationships sometimes.

So I'll bullet point some aspects of this that need to be talked about.

People without NPD also commonly exhibit toxic behaviors, but people ignore that nowadays. Either they armchair diagnose anyone who's slightly rude, or they only focus on it in pwNPD and ignore it in themselves or others. NTs can be jerks too, and they're probably less likely to acknowledge it than pwNPD who are constantly watching and checking themselves and analyzing their behaviors and attempting to do better.

Assuming that NPD makes someone abusive doesn't help anyone. Can it impact behaviors, and make it more difficult for people to be self-aware? Of course. But an important step in healing from any mental health condition (especially personality disorders, ime) is realizing that you're not inherently ""bad"", and that you can take responsibility for your actions and learn to deal with things in constructive ways. Just going "NPD makes people bad, full stop"- other than being a mean shitty thing to say- absolves people of guilt and asserts that there's no reason for them to try and improve.

Yes, it's okay for people to hate their abusers. Their abuser. Not an entire community of people who happen to (maybe) share a trait with them.

Building on the above point, people tend to go in defense mode when they hear things like "pwNPD who have acted in toxic ways can learn to improve their behavior", "people shouldn't be saying awful things about folks with this condition", etc. because they automatically try to apply this to their abuser. Interpersonal situations are very different from society-wide mental health access. No, don't stay with your abuser expecting them to change, and don't hold onto the hope that they will. No, don't censor yourself or your hatred or anger towards them. Just don't make blanket statements about a disorder that they may or may not have- blame their abusive actions, not their mental health.

"I hate you for your abusive actions and the harm that you caused me." =/= "I hate a group of people because of an inherent unchangeable part of them that's tied directly to severe childhood trauma they suffered. Because of it, they're evil and unlovable and are incapable of change. They're inhuman and will never experience real connection with others." ..........See the difference??

Even if there were a disorder with a 100% rate of toxic douchey behaviors, I'd want the conversation around it to be changed. I'd want different words to be used to divide up the spaces and conversations and resources, so that survivors of abusive or toxic behavior can get help, but that the disorder still has space to be treated. Otherwise, there are zero resources for healing. Nothing is being done to help these people or solve the issue. They're just told they may as well not try. They're blocked from healthcare entirely, despite how the entire point of being diagnosed with a condition is supposed to be to treat it.

There's a wide range of people who have NPD- it presents in many different ways, a person who has it may or may not exhibit harmful behaviors- but no one deserves to be denied treatment or told they're unlovable because of a condition they have that was formed from trauma.

Speak out against abusive behavior. Don't destroy healthcare for a medical condition.

#actuallynpd #npd stigma #narcissistic personality disorder

[cinnamoneve]

𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐧.

eonian \ əʊnɪən \ (adj.) - continuing forever or indefinitely; lasting for an immeasurable amount of time

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x gn!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: food always tastes better when it's shared with someone you love. even if you're too tired to appreciate it ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader doesn't like red bean paste lol (this is self indulgent because i do not like red bean paste. im sorry.) ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: i love domesticity i love boring things about being in love!!! in my mind gojo isn't sealed and nothing bad ever happens to him, he's eating taiyaki on the floor and happy ♡ please enjoy

satoru said he’d be home hours ago.

tracking him down when he was out on a mission was near impossible. you both agreed that if there was any kind of emergency, he’d definitely find a way to get to you. but if not, no news was good news with satoru’s work.

unfortunately, this made any type of planning difficult for the two of you, so you had to soak up all the time together you could.

by the time you had finished dinner, your appetite was gone, and you’d realized that the last thing you wanted to do was eat by yourself in the quiet apartment. you covered the food, as if a thin layer of plastic would help to preserve the presentation and flavor. satoru would eat when he’s home, and you’d join him, you thought.

mealtimes always made satoru a little bashful. he refused to eat without you, and would pout if you didn’t uphold your end of it as well. satoru firmly believes that food always tastes better when you share it with someone you love. whether or not it’s true, or whether or not you believe it yourself, satoru has an almost parasitic way of infecting you with every inch of him; so throughout your entire relationship, you can count all the meals you’ve eaten alone on one hand.

hidden beneath the five languages of love, there has to be a secret, sixth one that satoru has surrounding food. what better way to tell you he loves you than to cut your apples the way you like? or remember your takeout order? not to mention the sampling of any dessert place within a certain radius of his mission, just for him to steal a bite. or two. or three.

sharing a meal with satoru felt deeply intimate. with every bite from his plate, it felt like his love was devouring you at the same time. whole, or piece by piece, even. he had always wondered if you’d caught on that his sweet tooth developed after he kissed you for the first time. he’s just hoping to find something sweet enough to hold himself over until the next time he gets to fall in love with you again, and again.

collapsing on the couch, you drifted off thinking about what dessert he’d bring you this time. some type of pastry? a sweet bread, doughnut, or maybe a cake sampling? you wondered if he’d smear icing on your nose so he could kiss it off again, or how many kisses he’d steal between bites. or even, the gentle way he held his hand underneath your chin to catch any stray crumbs.

your daydreaming got the best of you, however, and you hadn't realized the time when you heard the all-too familiar sound of a key jingling in the door handle.

you sit up a bit and make yourself look like you weren’t fantasizing about a man who is already and desperately yours. you didn’t want satoru to feel guilty–he wouldn’t want you to stay up too late for him.

it’s around 3am when the door opens.

he looks wiped. your poor, pouty boyfriend melted in your arms when you met him at the door.

“i missed you, love,” was all he managed to croak out before exhaustion hit him, nearly leaning on all of you with his weight to keep himself stable.

“i saved you something to eat, satoru,”

“oh, thank you. i love you,”

he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead after mumbling the confession, and shuffled his way into the kitchen. not even halfway in, his legs called it quits and he resorted to sitting down on the cold floor.

“i don’t think i’m moving from this spot”

“i’ll join you, honey,” you spoke softly, almost nervous that your words would shatter him. 

you leaned down and helped him take off his blindfold. he ran his fingers through his hair, eager to loosen it up and relieve the tension building. 

you notice a white box wrapped in delicate twine. 

“can i take that from you? where can i put this?”

satoru rubs the day out of his eyes. “anywhere’s fine. this shop near me today is known for its taiyaki. i couldn’t remember which filling you liked, so i got them all. we don’t have to eat them now”

satoru had watched you order taiyaki before, on numerous occasions. for a man who can remember every detail of orders from restaurants you like, there’s no way in hell he could ever forget which filling you preferred. chalk it up to exhaustion, maybe, or his own selfish intention of eating the ones you don’t like.

you grabbed the box and put it on the counter, silently.

satoru watched your every step as you carefully reheated the dinner you made. although, a puzzled expression crossed his pretty face when he saw you reheating two plates instead of one.

“you didn’t eat?” he asked, almost whispering.

“hm?” you almost didn’t hear him. “oh, no, satoru, how could i? i wanted to wait for you”

he rests his head on the cabinets behind him, gently pouting away from you.

“it’s late, love, you could’ve eaten without me.”

his voice was sincere, but you knew his words weren’t. eating alone would’ve been the straw that broke the camel's back, he realized, and he regretted his bold-faced lie the second the words left his mouth.

all you did was continue to heat up your plates, a soft smile adorning your tired features. satoru looked at you like you were made of an ornate and delicate glass, something precious to admire but never touch. you were almost a heavenly treasure, tonight especially, and he couldn’t help but watch in silence.

you grabbed your plates and sat with him on the floor, just enough to be close but not in his personal space. extending out your legs to get comfortable, satoru gently laced his long, spindly legs with yours. anything to be in your space.

“eat up, it’s hot,” was all you said.

satoru did as he was told, grabbing the plate from your hands gently so as to not burn himself.  

“thank you for the food,”

you sat in silence for a bit, just enjoying the meal you made and each other’s presence. usually, satoru is buzzing to tell you about work missions; the kind of curse, how his students did, if he had to dramatically save them (and how cool he looked doing it too). tonight was different. you’re not sure if something happened or if he was just too tired to even bring it up, but you still wanted to ask.

“do you wanna talk about your mission today, satoru?”

“mmm, there’s nothing to talk about, babe,” he added between bites, “it was super lame and long. i missed you the whole time, though”

“thinking about me with an ugly curse in front of you, how romantic”

“ah, hush, you know what i mean,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his leg against yours. “how about you, how was your day?”

you finish your meal and set your clean plate on the kitchen floor with a big sigh. 

“booooring,” you shifted closer to satoru as he finished up as well, “i had no work to do, so i just hung out here all day.”

“mmm, sounds fun though. a day to do nothing, i mean” satoru put his hand on your leg as he looked off at the floor. 

he wondered how he’d spend a day off. his first thought was to spend it with you, and the next, would be to take his students out. maybe to an expensive shop nobara wanted to see so he could spoil her a bit, or take yuuji to some movie he’s begged someone, anyone, to see with him. or actually, the day could be spent finding megumi a quiet bookstore in a quaint and cozy town so he can truly soak up some alone time.

naturally, his thoughts go back to you, and how you could spend the time together. god, the possibilities were just endless. a day trip? a movie marathon? a romantic day together filled with any type of date you’ve ever wanted? he didn’t care. a day in bed with you would be a day fulfilling and well-spent.

not once did he consider spending it alone. he was selfless like that, but also selfish like that. 

you grabbed his plate and stood up to put it in the sink, grabbing the pastry box on your way back to joining him on the floor.

“doing nothing is fun, i guess, until it really isn't. it’s lame being alone,” you say. you sit a little bit closer to him than before, throwing out your regard for satoru’s personal space. if anything, his hand on your thigh was an indication, a blinding one, really, that you should be closer to him.

satoru’s leg finds yours as his hands reach for the box. 

“what, you miss me or something?” 

his ridiculous question forms a reluctant smile on your lips. you look at him as he gently holds one of the taiyaki between his teeth, passing you the box and avoiding eye contact.

“hmm, maybe a little,” you answer, grabbing the box from his lap.

satoru takes a bite and looks at you, exaggeratedly offended.

his mouth is full.

“only a little?” 

“yeah. just, like, a teensy bit”

satoru sighs dramatically after he swallows his first bite.

“and to think i brought home your favorite filling too, from a famous taiyaki shop”

you meticulously pick out one of the crispy fish from the box, hoping you guessed the filling correctly.

“i thought you didn’t remember my favorite,”

satoru stops chewing for a second to mull it over.

“c’mon. did you really believe that?”

“hehe, no,” you giggle, “you’re not good at lying to me, you know”

“whatever,” he groans, finishing off his last bite.

biting into yours, you realize you picked wrong, and the taste of anko fills your mouth. you stop chewing immediately.

“blegh, i got a red bean paste filled one,” you moan.

“i’ll eat it, baby,” satoru grabs the fish and the box from your hands. he picks out another. “this one is chocolate filled, and this one is custard. i wasn’t sure if you liked matcha, but i got a couple of those too,”

you grab your favorite from the ones he pointed out, and scoot up to kiss him on the jaw.

“thank you, satoru, this is sweet.”

“i don’t even know how you function without liking anko,” satoru replies, “even if it’s a red flag, you’re so welcome,”

you both continue to eat your treats together, commenting on how the shop lives up to its reputation. satoru helps you to your feet as you begin putting the leftovers away for the night.

as you turn to the bedroom for your long overdue sleep, satoru doesn’t follow.

“coming to bed, honey?” you ask.

“i’m gonna clean up a little. you don’t have to wait for me,”

“leave it for the night, satoru, it’s been a hell of a day,”

if one person cooks, the other cleans. it was an unwritten rule in the household. satoru liked keeping a clean house to maintain a clear mind, but he was relieved to hear tonight was the exception.

he turns off the lights and finds you on his way to the bedroom.

“thank you for waiting for me tonight, my love”

“i only did so the food would taste better, you know,” you laugh back.

“i’d say it was worth it then.”

if only food could taste this good forever, could be this sweet, you would wait a million years just to sit with satoru on the kitchen floor.

all content © cinnamoneve 2023. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

#gojo satoru x reader #★ jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo satoru fluff #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk gojo #he's like my wife #but a grown man #jujutsu kaisen #♡ satoru

[thisdreamplace]

for those who struggle

i recently got sent an anon message about frustrations surrounding the law, and how non-dualism hasn't made it any easier for them, but actually just more frustrating to the point where they're officially walking away from everything and wanting to just go back to live as they knew it before any of this.

the truth is that, oversimplification runs rampant in this community. as well as, hiding behind the realities of how difficult it all can be, because people are afraid of affirming that it's difficult or identifying with difficulty... but when we hide from this experience and try to come off as if it doesn't affect us, while simultaneously trying to give out advice, there tends to be more damage than good happening. the oversimplifying isn't the fault of anyone, as the truth is most of this is simple. but in actually living it, it tends to not be simple at all. the ego will fight till the very end to keep things the way they are, even when they hurt us. and that is worth being honest about.

when it comes to non-identification and indifference, this is not meant to be used to as yet another way to pretend something isn't happening or push down your feelings or gaslight yourself. i see these posts like, "just ignore the 3d and don't identify with it and you would have already have what you wanted" ..... this doesn't actually really help anyone, unless you're a person who strives on that kind of mentality. but i think a lot of people need a little more gentleness and realness, otherwise this journey wouldn't have been so difficult and painful. we'd all just get it overnight, but clearly, this community stays extremely active for a reason. because the million ways its already been explained still leaves so many confused and frustrated.

indifference is a daily practice, and it is NOT one that includes pretending something doesn't exist in exchange for getting what you want. it is actually, the extreme opposite. it's by acknowledging what's there... and allowing that to be what it is. the non-identification comes in from how you choose to see YOURSELF in relation to whatever that thing is. "this is painful, this sucks, i hate it... but that doesn't mean tomorrow won't be better for me. it doesn't mean my life is doomed..." etc etc etc. it's this very small flip within yourself, that actually leads to results. not trying to force yourself into believing you aren't even who you are when you've identified as yourself this entire life. remember that god's name is I AM, and literally nothing else.

and doing something to get something else is just... not it. it's time for you to truly want to feel better, regardless of anything else. that's why so much of this starts to get trickier than it needs to be.

non-identification is literally as simple as realizing... you are bound to no past, and you have the opportunity of every future you can possibly imagine. why ? because non-identification is literally just non-attachment. when you're not attached to this idea of who you were, of the struggles you used to face, you're able to allow in different experiences. and y'all... this as simple as being able to say to yourself, "i am allowed to experience something new" and don't let your fear of the unknown stop you from experiencing something new.

here's where it doesn't feel so simple though. how can you just stop identifying with this whole human self when the traumas of the past keep coming back to haunt you ? thats the thing. you don't just stop identifying with it. you let this be a process, a non-linear path to liberation. slowly, but surely, if you keep at it everyday, even when you feel you're only going backwards... one day you will realize how much more free you are. how much more easier it is to move into a new beautiful story for yourself, one that isn't contiminated by your past. but let today be today ! and whatever may come, let it come.

this is why just focusing on yourself is so helpful because if you're simply doing the best you can for yourself and your feeling state, the daily dramas are no longer your ruler.

the gag is that, the more you just do these small daily practices of sitting with yourself, choosing to not engage in the stories you used to identify with in the past, and allow new experiences to come to you... the more easy it gets, the more the truth of yourself begins to show itself on its own. you have to realize that the days are going to keep passing by anyway... so stop counting them, and just commit to yourself.

i also want to quickly note that so many seem to leave out the fact that behind all of this, within the pure nothingness that is also everything. behind our human identifications and all the things we have experienced in our lives, there is unconditional love. and when we actually begin to stop identifying so deeply with who we thought we are, we are lead right back to unconditional love. love in its purest form. so, use love as your guide when things get too difficult. it's the truest thing to who you really are.

you have to let allow yourself to experience the beautiful, despite how strange it may feel. because it's going to feel strange if you've never really experienced it before, and the ego is going to fight because even when it's good, the unknown is still strange and scary. and you never have to be perfect at this to get to experience the things you want, believe it or not. i know that i still have a long way to go on this journey, there may be much more time before i ever get to fully experience the promise in full, but that hasn't stopped me from experiencing the desires of my heart on a daily basis. that's because i used these simple things, these small little flips in how i chose to see life. even if the anxiety never went away, or it was a more difficult day full of tears... this is way more possible for you than you realize. if only you're willing to allow your life to be different than it's always been. just that small allowance, opens up all the doors.

xo dream 🕊

#nonduality #nondualism #law of assumption

[lunaflowers]

making up (yandere!chanyeol)

pairing: yandere!chanyeol x reader word count: 1.7k genre: smut, angst, yandere synopsis: after an especially violent punishment, chanyeol decides that he wants to make things up to you warnings: yandere, abuse, past physical abuse, cunnilingus, dom!chanyeol, sub!reader, daddy kink, stockholm syndrome, victim blaming a/n: this is a yandere story, meaning it contains many dark elements. please heed the warnings and don't read this fic if this type of content makes you uncomfortable. i do not condone the behavior exhibited in this fic and i don't believe the member(s) featured would either.

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

You stretched out your bare legs, examining the faint purple and blue marks littered across them. They were only just becoming visible, just as Chanyeol said they would. You knew he hadn’t meant to leave you so bruised up, he never meant to. He was just so passionate, so full of emotion and it burst out of him in unexpected, violent ways at times. He couldn’t help it.

Besides, you were no angel either. You could be difficult, stubborn, selfish. It’s what Chanyeol said to you constantly. He repeated the words with venom on his lips whenever you made him angry. It was your fault he had to get violent with you, your fault he had to discipline you, your fault for being such a bitch, a cunt, for acting like a slut, for being too friendly with his group members, for meeting up with your friends behind his back. It was always you who did something to provoke such a reaction from him.

You heard the door to the apartment being unlocked, and you quickly covered your legs with your long skirt. Chanyeol didn’t like being reminded of what he’d done to you during one of his violent fits and you didn’t want to upset him again.

Your boyfriend entered holding a single rose in one hand, and his keys in the other. You got up to greet him and when you did he held the flower out to you, head down, almost shyly, like a teenager confessing to his crush for the first time.

“For you,” he mumbled, and you took it with a grin, taking a whiff of the flower while he closed the door behind him, locking it securely. The door locked from the inside as well as the outside for your protection, according to Chanyeol. From deranged saesangs to run-of-the-mill paparazzi, who knew what kind of trouble you could run into if you were out in the world, all by yourself. Chanyeol wanted to protect you from all that. He was always so considerate of your safety and you were so grateful to him for it.

“Thank you,” you said, as he pulled you into his arms, squashing you in one of his signature Chanyeol cuddles, lifting you off the ground slightly and putting you back down again. His large body enveloped you completely and there was nowhere in the world you felt safer.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, breathing warmly into your neck, “I lost my temper again and… I shouldn’t have let myself take it that far.” He pulled back and locked his large eyes with yours. “Will you forgive me?”

You could see in his face how awful he felt, how he’d been beating himself up over what he’d done to you. Despite his flaws, he was a good person. And he loved you dearly, more than anyone ever had or would, you knew that. 

“Of course,” you said, and you saw his face light up with a smile. He kissed you on the mouth, lifting you up again as he did so and spinning you around. You couldn’t help but smile too, breaking the kiss and letting out a little giggle.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he said mischievously, putting you down and grabbing you around the wrist, pulling you towards the bedroom that the two of you shared.

“Right now?”

He didn’t say a word as he began to pull your skirt and top off and pushed you onto the bed. You had no bra on, and you lay there in front of him in nothing but a pair of panties. He eyed you up and down. You could see his eyes lingering on the burgeoning bruises that were everywhere and you felt suddenly self-conscious.  You knew he loved your body but you hated him seeing you like some broken little doll.

Before you had a chance to speak, Chanyeol reached out and touched one of the bruises on your thighs lightly, a look of regret on his face.

“It’s okay,” you said, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. You wanted to assuage his guilt in any way that you could. “It doesn’t hurt much.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better,” he said, still running his fingers softly over one of your bruises. “But even so, I really hate it when you fucking lie to me.” He wrapped his large hand around your thigh and dug his thumb into a particularly dark purple patch there and you yelped in pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cried out, and Chanyeol released his grip on your leg. 

“Did it hurt?”

You nodded, tears filling your eyes. 

“Good,” he said, kneeling down between your legs. “That’s what happens when you lie to me. About anything.” He pulled your panties down your legs and threw them on the ground beside him. He then pulled your legs apart and stared close up at your already soaked cunt.

“Dirty girl,” he smirked, “You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?” He was running his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your wetness around.

“Yes,” you admitted, shamefaced.

In response to this, Chanyeol gave your pussy a smack that made you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“You fucked up little whore,” Chanyeol continued with another sharp smack. “You know that this pussy was made to be used and abused by me, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, shakily.

“I can’t fucking hear you,” Chanyeol said, sticking two of this long fingers into your cunt at the same time. God knows you were wet enough but it still stung a little.

“Yes Chanyeol,” you said, breathlessly, “My pussy was made for you.”

“Good girl.” He began kissing you up your thigh while kneading your breasts with his hands. He kept using his lips and tongue around your cunt, but not on it.  Every time he would get close, he would move away again. You could feel yourself getting more and more aroused and were starting to feel resentful of the way he was teasing you.

“Chan…” you said, breathless with desire. “Don’t torture me here.”

He stopped, removing his lips from your outer labia and for a second you wondered if you’d annoyed him before you heard him chuckle.

“Oh? Is my baby feeling eager? Does she want daddy to eat her slutty pussy and make her feel good?”

So that was it. He wanted you to call him daddy. You hated it, and he knew how much you hated it and honestly it seemed to turn him on that you hated it so much, degrading you by making you say it.

“Yes…” you said, the word daddy catching in your throat. “Sir.” You hoped it would be enough, but really you knew he would get what he wanted. Chanyeol always got what he wanted.

“Hmm, I don’t think you want it bad enough, kitten,” he said, blowing cool air on your clit, making you feel the absence of him even more.

“Nooo,” you protested, “I do want it… daddy.” You said the last word hesitantly and he smirked. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What was that again? Does my baby want daddy to eat her slutty pussy or not?” Chanyeol asked devilishly, while inserting one finger into you and taking it out again after a few pumps.

“Daddy,” you said, louder this time, while moaning out at the intrusion, “Please… I want you to eat my slutty pussy, daddy,” you repeated the word for good measure. It was becoming slightly more comfortable on your tongue now, or perhaps you were just that desperate.

Chanyeol smiled, “You’re so pretty when you’re obedient. I’ll give you what you want, baby.” He leaned forward and made contact with your clit for the first time, licking it and then suckling it gently.

You moaned, arching your back as Chanyeol kept on at it. He was so talented with his mouth and tongue, so attuned to your body, hitting every spot that made you whimper and whine.

“Daddy, oh daddy…” you moaned out, not feeling an ounce of shame anymore. All you wanted was for Chanyeol to keep doing what he was doing and you’d say anything to make sure he did.

“Yes princess?,” he said, in between licks and suckles.

“I- I’m just… That feels so good,” you replied, completely out of sorts. 

He reached up and grabbed one of your hands, interlacing his finger with yours as he continued to eat you out. You were squeezing it with all your might as the pleasure between your legs grew, but he didn’t seem to feel a thing.

“Oh, god, yes, Daddy…” you mewled. The way you were crying out was making him more ravenous. It was animalistic, his want for you. He became sloppier, harsher. He inserted two fingers into your cunt, finding your sweet spot immediately. God, he was so fucking good at knowing your body.

Your hips were bucking desperately now and Chanyeol had to let go of your hand, using his own to grab one of your hips and hold it down. You were so close, so close, to your orgasm and you could only hope that Chanyeol wasn’t in the mood to edge you today. You didn’t think you could handle it.

“Daddy!” You almost shouted, on the verge of desperation now,”I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum…”

Chanyeol responded to this by redoubling his efforts, groaning into your clit as he finger fucked you. “Come, princess, I wanna taste it.”

It was only a few more seconds before you reached your climax, your body tensing and then releasing so that you could feel it in every inch of your body. You convulsed slightly, the pleasure so powerful. Chanyeol watched from his vantage point between your legs, your breasts shaking as you did.

He got up and got onto the bed with you as you came down from your high, wrapping you in his arms once again. He kissed you on the forehead and cheek, pulling the comforter of the both of you.

“Thanks, Chanyeol,” you said, now that you were back in your right senses.

He smirked and kissed you again. “Everything’s going to be good from now on,” he said, “You’re gonna be a good girl and you won’t make me do bad things to you, right?”

“I’ll be good,” you said, both to him and yourself. You knew you needed to be better. You hate the way you provoked him.

“I know,” Chanyeol said, with nothing but sweetness in his voice. “Because if you don’t, I’ll have to bruise that pretty face of yours up too.”

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

#exo smut #exo fanfic #park chanyeol #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol smut #yandere chanyeol #yandere exo #yandere kpop #yandere x reader #yandere smut #exo scenarios #exo imagines #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere x you #exo #exo chanyeol

[synnamonroll666]

An Arousing Tail

Prompt 3: Intercrural Sex/Thigh Riding (With A Twist) Pairing: Syzoth X Fem!Reader Description: After finding out that Syzoth has a rather interesting kink, he asks you to help fulfill his desire. Of course, you agree. Because after all, how could you deny your man of what he wants so badly?... Warnings: Tail Riding, Extremely Shy And Embarrassed Syzoth, Awkward Confessions, Masturbation, Mutual Orgasms... Word Count: 1.4k A/N: This is hands down the most interesting smut fic I have ever written. 😂 I hope you all enjoy it! 💚 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kinktober MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @queenkhepri.

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

There I laid in my bed—with my lover on top of me—lips connected in a passionate kiss. We had been going at it for hours, just savoring and enjoying the taste of each other before we got to the main course. That was our thing: we could make a moment last for so long—we were just special like that.

I was so wrapped up in the moment that I did not realize that Syzoth had accidentally let his tail slip from his human disguise again. It was something he did on instinct every once in a while. If he was enjoying something enough, his tail would have to break free so it could sway back and forth with enjoyment. And due to being so caught up in our kisses, I didn't even clue in when my hand found purchase on his tail and began stroking its smooth scales.

As soon as my hand began to pet him, he let out a soft moan into my mouth and quickly pulled back and turned away as he blushed bright green with embarrassment.

"I-I am sorry, my love..." He stammered awkwardly as he lowered his head so he would feel a little more protected from my intense gaze. "I could not help it..."

"No, I'm sorry." I sighed heavily, feeling pretty bad for making him so uncomfortable. "I didn't realize that I did it; I shouldn't have without your consent."

A moment of silence fell between us, and Syzoth still refused to look me in the eye—or move, for that matter. I couldn't help but let the guilt eat away at me, since I never wanted to push past his comfort zone. I wanted to speak apology after apology for doing so, but I knew what Syzoth would say; he would just tell me that it wasn't my fault and that we should probably go to bed.

But I did have one thing that lingered in my mind, and after a couple minutes of hesitation, I decided to break the silence once again with a question that I knew would be hard for him to answer. But as his lover, I just had to know for sure.

"Is it really that pleasurable for you?" I asked shyly, and the man instantly froze for a moment before finally lifting his head to look up at me with shameful eyes. "That's ok, Syzoth. I understand." I assured him with a softness in my tone and a kind smile, hoping he would let his finally gaurd down and just be his full self with me.

Syzoth was a pretty shy and not very confident person. Even though we had seen each other naked many times now, he would still become backwards with a few subjects, which made discussing our wants and desires quite difficult at times. But the way his eyes lightly studied me for a moment with a hint of curiosity and nervousness in them told me that I would get what I wished for soon enough.

"(Y/N)... Could I ask something of you?" He asked almost reluctantly while averting his gaze down again, only this time at his now twitching tail.

"Anything, Syzoth." I assured him while placing my hand upon his to give him any bit of encouragement I possibly could with my words.

"Would you..." He paused mid-sentence, his words getting cut off by a look of uncertainty.

"Tell me,"

With a light squeeze of my hand over his, he glanced down at where we were conjoined. It was clear that the man was struggling with this but knew that he would not be relieved of this stress until it was off his chest. After letting out a deep breath for courage, he finally let me in on something I never knew he wanted: "Would you ride my tail?"

"What?" I blurted out as I cocked my head, slightly confused by his request.

He peered back up at me, and I quickly took notice of how his appearance had changed; his pupils were dilated to the point where his green irises were nearly non-existent, his tanned skin was now flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat, the veins in his arms were bulging—especially more with each flex of his large muscles—and I could literally see that his pulses were fluttering faster than the wings of a hummingbird. It was then that it occurred to me that this wasn't just anything, but a deeply desired kink.

"Please!" He whined in a needy tone that I hadn't heard from him before.

His desire for such a thing surprised me, but who was I to judge? Who was I to deny my love of the pleasures he craved? Smiling up at my man lovingly, I gently placed a hand on his chest before pushing him off of me and back onto the bed.

I was quick to remove my clothes and Syzoth's as well, and I wasted no time climbing up on the bed once again to lower myself on the base of his tail. Syzoth let out a strained whine as my heat met his scales and I instantly felt how each thick vein would pulsate against my touch, clearly craving more of my warmth.

I firmly gripped my love's shoulders and began rolling my hips against him slowly, watching his facial expression change to one of awe as he melted below me. I was surprised by how smooth the scales on the underside of his tale were. It was almost like brushing myself against some sort of soft, cool leather—it was perfect to get off on.

I let my head roll back onto my shoulders as heat built up in my core. I was genuinely shocked by how sensitive I felt at the time, but I wasn't complaining. The hunger I felt from his arousal only made me crave more and when his hands went to my hips, I knew we were both done for.

He squeezed me hard in his grip as his tail began wiggling and moving in a slither-like motion, forcing a cry from my throat as it sent just the right kind of friction through my throbbing mound. Now soaked with my slick, his scales grew slippery but not enough for me to lose my pace. His hands helped guide me in my journey to ecstasy, but I knew exactly what I wanted and how to get it.

Watching how his head lolled back in pleasure—how his eyes fluttered half shut and his jaw fell slack as he released a weak, strained moan—I could barely hang on from the beautiful image before me alone. But the way his tail brushed against me like a match—setting off a flame within my core that threatened to explode at any second—I couldn't hold myself back any longer.

As I finally let myself give into the temptation of my climax, I began picking up speed and moving my hips at an extremely fast rate, hungry for that release I so desperately needed. I was so wrapped up in my own cloud of pleasure that I did not even realize that Syzoth had his hand firmly clasped around his trobbing cock, fucking it into his fist as he watched me with desperate tears in his eyes.

Finally—like a match to gasoline is meant to explode—that coil snapped within me and my climax tore through my body. I cried out as I rode through my orgasm on his trembling tail, and I almost missed the way his length shot thick ropes of his hot seed all over his stomach and mine—I almost missed the way his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his mouth fell agape while he came undone beneath me—but I was lucky enough to just barely catch the full show.

After my high eventually faded, I couldn't hold myself up any longer and collapsed onto his broad chest. And in a moment of my post-orgasm daze, I felt his arms slowly snake around my trembling frame to encase me within a warm embrace.

Between the way our body heat collided, how he gently caressed my back to soothe my exhaustion, his hot cum—which was now sandwiched between us—heating my stomach and his tail lightly twitching between my thighs to give me the perfect amount of overstimulation, I felt as if I were on cloud nine. And so I closed my eyes, hoping that I would wake up the exact same way the next morning and many after as well.

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#mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #mortal kombat reptile #mk reptile #reptile #reptile x reader #mortal kombat syzoth #mk syzoth #syzoth #syzoth x reader #kinktober 2023 #SinnamonsSpicyFics

[moonlight-prose]

Ahh I am so in love your 𝑰𝒏 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒅 - what a great idea!! Could I please request Joel Miller + clumsy attempts at flirting? 💕 So excited to see what fics you share!!

BE STILL MY FOOLISH HEART

a/n: the thought of joel being clumsy with flirting is absolutely how i'd see it going down. he's messy and fucks up sometimes and it's so human it just makes me want to smile stupidly thinking about it. this one in particular has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, so i am finally happy to finish it. i hope you enjoy it babes!

summary: "yet somehow—despite you never realizing it—joel always ended up with you."

word count: 0.9k+

pairing: joel miller x reader

warnings: not explicit, joel tripping over his words, flirty joel, softness, the beginning of more.

There was going to be a party. Not a small gathering of older folks that normally happened around the holidays, but an actual party. With alcohol and music and fun. The type of event that you hadn’t been to since well before the outbreak. Sure, you’d been an adult at that time, the years having passed you by long ago, but there was something about the prospect of fun that made you feel your past self peek out.

You weren’t sure exactly how it would happen. What they planned, but you could see yourself enjoying at least some of it. If nothing came of this so-called party, then there was always the bar where you knew many—if not all—the adults would wind up before the night came to an end.

The sun had just begun to stay out a bit longer during the day, giving way to some warmth in the midst of the frozen atmosphere. You wanted to savor it for as long as it was around—knowing just how brutal winter time was. But it still wasn’t warm enough to forgo your favorite denim jacket. It was old, worn in and nearly falling to pieces, but you refused to part with it.

It had seen you through the worst of the outbreak and still continued to last. For some reason it reminded you of yourself.

Entering the stables you headed straight for the little notebook stuck to the wall—your name top of the list to help clean the horses. You didn’t mind the task. Time with the gentle animals gave you an opportunity to think, to find some peace amidst the destruction and decay of the world.

“Busy?”

You paused, glancing over your shoulder at the man who walked in. Joel smiled softly, the same look he always seemed to give you whenever you ran into one another. Apparently you hadn’t checked the name beside yours. He was scheduled to work the same day too. Of course, you didn’t mind. Why would you? He was kind, helped when you needed it, and more often than not was considered a loner in this small town.

At least that’s what Tommy called him jokingly when you spoke. Yet somehow—despite you never realizing it—Joel always ended up with you. Whether that was doing chores around town, or making runs to go hunting. You had half a mind to ask Tommy if it was his doing, but thought against it.

It wasn’t your place to complain.

“Not yet,” you said, grinning when he moved to sign his name. “Did you hear?”

He glanced at you, eyes a little wider than before and mouth slightly parted. You found it was difficult to tear your eyes away from his plush bottom lip. “Hear?”

“The party.”

He chuckled—the sound echoing in your chest until you could feel it in your heart. “Oh that.”

You laughed, grabbing for the supplies needed. “That. You sound like an old man Joel.”

“I am an old man.”

“Well…I’m old too but it still sounds fun.”

He shrugged. “Yeah I suppose.”

“Are you agreeing with me about me being old? Or the fun part?” Biting down on your lower lip when he nearly dropped the brush you handed him, his cheeks flushing a dark crimson.

“No I’m—you’re not—ah shit. Darlin’ I didn’t mean you’re old—”

Laughing, you nudged him in the shoulder and headed into one of the stables, greeting the horse with a soft coo and pat on his side. “Calm down Joel I was kidding.”

“Right,” he huffed, following your lead. A beat of silence passed between you two before he decided to break it—wanting nothing more than to hear the sound of your voice again. “Are you uh…you goin’ to the thing?”

You shrugged, not meeting his eyes entirely. “I was thinking about it.”

His chance was now or never and Joel honestly would have rather taken on several infected than try to come off as some type of suave. He hadn’t dated since before the outbreak. Shit he couldn’t even call what he did dating. It was merely him trying to fill an empty space for Sarah, because he thought she needed it. Yet deep down he realized all she really needed was her dad being there for her.

But now he was alone. Ellie needed him, but not as much as she used to. Which meant he now lived in his big old house all by himself—wondering if maybe…you’d like to live there too. With him.

“Do you got…” He let out a long breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. He felt like a fucking teenager again and you seemed to be enjoying the nervousness that radiated off him. “Do you want to go with me?”

You tried to stop your smile from growing, but gave in once you saw the sheer panic in his eyes. It suddenly occurred to you why he always ended up paired with you. All his attempts at conversation, his stuttering comments. He was flirting with you. Heat rushed to your cheeks, eyes alight with a wonder that hadn’t existed since you were young.

“Are you asking me on a date, Joel?”

He stuttered, his eyes quickly glancing to the horse that let out a puff of hot air from its nose. “I um…”

To put him out of his misery, you stepped closer, catching him entirely off guard as you lightly gripped the front of his coat. “Pick me up at seven?”

He nodded, mouth parted in awe as you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. “Sure thing darlin’.”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #my writing #the last of us fic #in love with love weekend🌷

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Jan 19th

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1. Hello, I have lost a fic! It was an arranged-marriage au where WWX marries into the Lan sect. During the wedding all the Lans refuse to look towards WWX which hurts him deeply. Later on LWJ explains it is Lan tradition for no one to look upon the bride until the husband has removed her veil. This was just one of many cultural differences between the Lan and Jiang that the fic explored. Overall I think the fic was kind of somber and angsty? Probably had a happy ending though. Any ideas?

FOUND? Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

FOUND? In Love and War by Cataclysmic_Calamity (E, 68k, wangxian, A/B/O, Canon Divergence, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Arranged Marriage, Kind of a slow burn, enemies to lovers ish, rampant sexual tension, WWX is a Menace to society and LWJ is doing his best, Miscommunication, past emotional abuse, Dubious Consent, Consensual Non-Consent, Semi-Public Sex, Anal Fingering, Dom/sub, Anal Sex)

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2. Hello, I need help finding a fic. I'm pretty sure I found this fic through your blog.

It's from Lan Wangji's perspective and takes place during the early sunshot campaign before Wei Wuxian's return. Wen outposts are attacked by some unknown entity and Lan Wangji goes to investigate. The culprit is a human shaped being covered in resentful energy. After a few confrontations Lan Wangji discovers that the being is an unconscious Wei Wuxian and finds a way to free him from the resentful energy. @bluekittenfire

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3. (First part added to an itmf) I cannot remember what it is called but there was one fic where WWX loses his foot/leg and the Wen build him a wooden prosthetic that I really enjoyed and am looking for more fics like this. Where characters are dealt a difficult hand but they work through it and yeah, any recs would be much appreciated thank you!

FOUND? we’re starting at the end by Miss_Enthusiasimal (M, 92k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Golden Core Reveal, Burial Mounds, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Starvation, emaciation, Cannibalism, Self-Harm, Amputation, Suicidal Thoughts, Sunshot Campaign, let JZX and WWX be friends club)

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4. Hi! I’m sorry to bother you, but maybe you can help me? I’m looking for a fic where Wei Wuxian is fighting at what I remember to be Qiongqi Path. I think Jiang Cheng makes a smart remark (something like “Are you just gonna play your flute or you going to help us?!”) and Wei Wuxian stops playing his dizi long enough to give JC the finger… only for them to realise what it means that he’s stopped playing and a flute can still be heard. Not long after LWJ pulls Su She out of the foliage with the other flute.

Vaguely I remember it being a fix it fic where less people die than in canon.

If you can help with this I would appreciate it since it’s haunted me for days now! And even if not I hope you have a pleasant day. ^^ @jestingknights

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5. hi!! i’m been looking for a fic for days. i read it forever ago but it’s during the cloud recess study arc and in it lan xichen realizes how awful the jiangs are treating wwx and tries to subtly convince him to leave tywng and stay in gusu bc he knows how much lwj likes him and he sees how talented wwx is and knows he would be a good asset for any sect to have. a specific scene i remember is that lxc would pretend to accidentally bump into wwx to talk to him. and they would go on walks and lwj saw it and got jealous. i think lxc was lowkey manipulative but in a way where he was doing it to make wwx care enough about himself to leave the jiangs. it was not jiang clan friendly at all. i kno this is so vague sorry about that. but it’s driving me crazy how i can’t find it when i know ive read it more then once. thanks for any help u can give

FOUND? If 5 isn't 🔒💖 Hoards and treasures by apathyinreverie (T, 21k, WangXian, Siblings, Family, not particularly Jiang friendly, YZY Bashing, slightly darker Gusu Lans, LXC being the best brother, Some manipulation, But with the best of intentions, and not between wangxian, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Smitten LWJ, Fluff, perfect happiness, adorable WWX, Romance, Some worldbuilding, courting), it's very similar so here's hoping!

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6. Hello! I’m looking for a modern AU where WWX lives in and runs a theater, I believe LWJ is hosting his orchestra there for practice and for an event??? And it’s important that it’s successful to keep the theater open. I believe at some point, someone throws a rock or a brick through the front doors, and I believe the jiangs show up in the end and WWX confronts that. Im having such a hard time finding it or remembering more about it, and I’ve been looking for it for so long 🥲 @takemitchyleaps

FOUND? Talisman by Witch_Nova221 (M, 192k, WangXian, Modern AU, Eventual Romance, Theatre, Rock Band, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Spousal Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Stalking, Minor Character Death, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

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7. Hi! I hope doing this right, can tou help me find a fic ? I remember that the sects start making alliances because they notice how the Wens are acting. The Jiangs and the Lans are going to ally through marriage, the choice is up to LXC, but because he is jealous of LZ, thinking he never had it difficult, when WY is offered to the Lans, LXC decides to marry him to make LZ suffer, knowing LZ and WY like each other. LXC is the one whose core is melted and LSZ is LXC and WY's biological son. @old-rose-peonies

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8. There's a fic I vaguely remember reading, and I don't know what it's called. There's a scene where Lan Zhan is trying to help Wei Ying eat again (residual starvation stuff), and there's an NSFW scene with honey where Lan Zhan is trying to help Wei Ying associate eating with Good Things. That's the extent of my memory. If you could please help me find it, I'd greatly appreciate it! Thank you! @amynchan

Oh oh! I know exactly which fic this is because it was written based on a post of mine! It's actually WWX helping LWJ and was written by the wonderful InTheGreySpaces (thank you again for writing this beautiful fic~) 😊 Though I could be wrong so please let me know if this isn't it 😅 - Mod C

FOUND! 🧡 Sustenance of the Soul OR Five Times Lan Wangji Refused to Eat and One Time Wei Wuxian Convinced Him To by InTheGreySpaces (E, 9k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Angst, Pining, Eating Disorders, LWJ Has an Eating Disorder, and WWX is going to help him get past it, Inedia, Inedia used in the wrong way, LWJ's 33 Lashes Punishment, referenced as the cause of his eating problems, Submissive LWJ, Sort of?)

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9. Hello! I'm looking for a specific fic that I'm afraid might've been deleted. It's a modern au set in the 90s in California (possibly). The Spotify playlist "LWJ DJs your life 1999" goes with it. What I remember is that LWJ is both a goth club DJ and a cello player, WWX drives a terrible car, and the gang is looking to buy the perfect huge house to collectively live in. It might've been part of a series, there's a Halloween party bit where LWJ dresses up at a classic style gothic vampire and curates an extensive party playlist. Thanks for the help! @aceaviatrix

FOUND? The Quiet Room by trickybonmot (M, 39k, WangXian, Modern AU, 1990s, Goth LWJ, Cellist LWJ, College Student WWX, House Hunting, Dating, Clubbing, San Francisco, Implied/Referenced Past Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Academic Disaster Aftermath, Getting Together, Repressed Teen Crushes to Strangers to Lovers, Homelessness, in the form of couch surfing, background NieLan)

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10. For the next fic finder: I'm looking for a longer fic where the wens find shelter at the nie sect. It was part of a way bigger plot and some wangxian shenanigans, but wen qing and nie mingjue end up sleeping together, mainly because wen qing is cold and is like "might as well". I do remember that nie mingjue was trans, also. Anyone have any idea what fic that was?

FOUND? 💖 Uninvited by WithBroomBefore (M, 13k, wangxian, canon divergence, fix-it, hurt/comfort, sect leader jyl, sick fic, happy ending) specifically chapter 3

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11. Hi! I need help in looking for a fic where Nie Huaisang was the one who sacrificed his body and soul to summon Wei Wuxian back to life. Thank you @etutb

FOUND? Crowded by nirejseki (G, 1k, NHS & WWX, WangXian, WangXianSang, Canon Divergence, Different Body Offering Ritual, Atypical Relationship Dynamics, sentient sabers) this is a nhs sacrifice summon (gone sideways) fic

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12. Hello. I am looking for a fic where there was a finger trap? You know, the “thing that traps the victim's fingers (often the index fingers) in both ends of a small cylinder”? Anyway i cant remember if it was a tweetfic or a fic on ao3 but wangxian had their fingers in this 🥲🙏

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13. Hi, I don't normally lose fics but I lost this one: Post-Canon, Jiang Cheng basically goes round all the clans and tells them what was wrong with their defences during Sunshot and what they could do better. He also has some unkind words to say about Lotus Pier's organisation. It sounds like he's making enemies but he's really not. Any ideas, please? @solo----

FOUND? 🔒 The Cold Wind of Harsh Truth (or How We Nearly Lost the Sunshot Campaign): A Treatise by Icarus (T, 13k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Humor, Angst, JC digs and keeps digging, Zidian lore, Fun with talismans, JC-centric, Competence Kink, Strategy & Tactics, Cultivation Sect Politics, Arranged Marriage, Trauma, Logic, POV JC)

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14. Hi, I am looking for a fic set post-canon (I think). I remember Wei Wuxian maybe living in the jingshi, possibly teaching classes, but definitely going into Caiyi with Lan Wangji and during a festival Wangji wins a game and the prize is this ugly turtle statue that Wei Wuxian adores. They go on to prank Lan Qiren with the turtle statue. I loved this scene but I can’t remember what fic it came from, please help!

FOUND! I think 14for the fic finder is from the actual book. It sounds like the last extra chapter. / Not saying there isn't a fic involving it, but #14 sounds a lot like the Yunmeng extra in book five, as well. Ring toss, ugly turtle statue, and Wei Wuxian considering pranking Lan Qiren included. The only difference is the location. Your searcher may have mistaken it for fic, especially if they read translations online. / #14 is one of the extra chapters from the actual novel (Extra 7 in the official English translation)

I found a few similar fics with a turtle statue if you want to check them out ^^ - Mod C

The Turtle in the Lanshi by Brierilee (G, 1k, WangXian, Post Canon, POV LJY)

Jin Ling and the No Good Very Bad Terrible Year of Cloud Recesses Bullshit by cringewerewolf (T, 2k, WangXian, Juniors)

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15. hi!! looking for this funny fic based on a silly story. Lwj rejects wwx on a dating app accidently right in front of him, i think they're on an airport? they end up talking obvs and it's cute and funny @ilyweiwuxian

FOUND? Ticket to Ride by mistresscurvy (E, 18k, wangxian, Modern, Online Dating, Road Trips, Service Top, Phone Sex, Dick Pics, Wedding Banquet)

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16. Hey was hoping you guys may be able to help, I've been look for a fic I read awhile back idk if it got deleted or something but. It is a modern time wangxian fic with tattoo artist wei ying, his parents are alive too. But he ends up renting a boyfriend/ Lan wangji off a boyfriend renting site. They have misunderstandings but get through it, he even gives lan Zhan a lotus tattoo like his own and they get together officially in the end. @yilingpatriarchsimp

FOUND! Rent a Gege by wayward_wing (E, 12k, WangXian, Fluff and Angst, Smut, Bottom LWJ/Top WWX, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Getting Together, Older WWX, Younger LWJ, Mention of wangxian with others, WWX’s parents are alive, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Riding, Skinny Dipping, eating ass, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex)

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17. I have lost a fic where Wei Wuxian is a catfish for sale and he helps jilted lovers get back at their exes. Su She hires him to target Lan Wangji but Wei Wuxian falls for him instead. Please help me find this fic!

FOUND! I'm pretty sure this one is we'll get him falling for a stranger (or a catfish) by sweetlolixo (T, 38k, wangxian, modern, College AU, Catfish AU, Eventual Happy Ending, Crossdressing WWX, Rich heir LWJ gets catfished by pretty Weiying online that's it that's the fic, LWJ learns how to text with kaomojis, Gossipy aunties NHS and WWX: canon, sometimes LWJ gives you secondhand embarrassment, this fic is on crack, Pining LWJ, Fluff, Humor, lwj is a grade A+ SIMP, Identity Porn)

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18. lan xichen is driving after drinking at night and hits Jiang yanli and she dies. Plot twist ended up she committed suicide, but they didn’t know that before. The lans and jiangs had a fight and somehow lan wangji ended up getting married to Wei wuxian. Wwx is significantly older then lan zhan in this fic.

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19. Hello! I was wondering if I could get help looking for a fic. It’s a doctor AU where LZ and WY are both surgeons. It starts with WY being late to a presentation and showing up right in the middle of LZ’s presentation time. Then WY eventually ends up working on a research project or something like that with LZ? Wen Ning gets hurt at some point in it too and WY and LZ save him against LQR’s orders. I’ve been looking for this for forever and can’t seem to find it. Thank you so much!

FOUND? Anginal Equivalents by fakeplasticlily (E, 23k, wangxian, Modern, Medical Residents AU, Childhood Friends, Mutual Pining, Oblivious WWX, WangXian.mp3, Sexual Content, Podfic Available)

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20. Hi Peeps! Thank you so much for your dedication to this page, I'm a big fan! I'm looking for a specific fic: there's a cultural show being put on by the whole gang and Wei Ying is specifically doing a dance for it but he needs to have body paint and LZ graciously volunteers for it. He ends up writing characters out of an ancient poem that Huaisang tells him is LZ basically marking him for his own. It's not idiots in love, though that one was great as well. Thank you in advance! @nebuluscharlie

FOUND? Out of the Bin and Into Your Heart by Alaceron (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern AU, Fake/Pretend relationship, Oblivious WWX)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

[soraviie]

signing NDA.txt

━ type: bts x gn! reader  ━ navigation

━ about: mostly angst (fluff for Tae, crack for JK)  ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ a/n: a weird reaction but I felt inspired. Maybe some of you will dig this a bit more realistic look into that sort of relationship

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: Looking quietly at the paper in front of you as much as you tried you couldn't come up with a reason to be angry with him. Namjoon had been perfectly candid from the start.

"Being with me will be difficult and to be honest..." he'd taken a heavy sigh, looking somewhere in the distance, not seeing quite anything. "I'm not excited to give you that kind of life."

Even yesterday he'd been nothing but the perfect image of put-together. Calm and analytical, he'd gone over every point with honesty and respect. The same thing he expected to be returned. So do you tell him? Do you tell him of the jumps your thoughts made, of them running at first eager and uncaring? This was just a piece of paper and you understood what it meant long before the particular topic was even broached in passing - you couldn't say you were in a relationship, you couldn't mention it to your friends, couldn't whine about his shortcomings. Couldn't share a picture. Your parents would know of him only when things got serious, and you'd be given more binding jewellery than a simple bracelet on Christmas.

If, you amended in your mind, if things got serious. Who's to say he's not going to tick you off one too many times and that resentment will build with no way of release, given how you couldn't talk to anyone about it in the eyes of the law. And it'll surge and surge until finally -

- snap!

And all the wonderful moments of him holding your hand, of trying to make pancakes to surprise you in the morning only to set a dish towel on fire, of hundreds of little joys will be gone, lost to bitterness and void, to never be remembered. You'll have to destroy him because it'll be easier, in the long run, to not remember him at all than remember and choke on that knowledge wholly alone. And the future you will look back at this very moment, with her past self holding a pen in hand and gazing at a single piece of paper. But if your future self remembered further, then she would recall Namjoon's text appearing at the top of your phone. Respect, honesty and kindness. Perhaps he couldn't give you much be it his time or public visibility but he could give you the best of himself and do so in earnest.

"Let's think about this together, okay? :)"

YOONGI: When he called for the 39th time, you finally picked up.

"Hey."

"Hey," he echoes, though much rougher. "Can I come up?"

You glimpsed around the dishevelled apartment. Yoongi won't mind.

"Sure."

When you opened the doors to greet him, the air was stifled between you. The unspoken question lingered like a sword on a rope about to snap.

"You've been avoiding me," he stated quietly, shaking the raindrops out of his hat. Perhaps he spoke just for the sake of conversation, as you're not quite sure how to even begin talking about all of this. Neither does he probably.

"I needed to think," you answered honestly, shifting from one foot to another. He hums, a frown marring his features.

"You...you must have known this would happen."

"I did but...sorry, it does not make it any less difficult."

Signing an NDA wasn't normal. Sure for expensive business meetings and or accidental brush in's that meant nothing; that would only be amusingly funny story years down the line but nothing about this is even remotely funny.

"Nothing to be sorry about, doll."

His voice was grave but at the title, you managed a small, mirthless smirk.

"Still trying them out?"

He shrugged, momentarily easing into the echo of your dry gaiety.

"Practice makes perfect."

You kept standing in stilted silence, and the hand of invisible fear closed around your throat. Mere talk of NDAs had driven a wedge between you, and yes, maybe, it was all your fault, maybe it was you who ran over the hills but even now, bound by an unadorned, verbal promise and common sense, you couldn't call up a friend with an indignant "you won't believe what just happened" and gather your thoughts together the traditional way. From here on out, you needed to be much, much more independent. Yoongi hadn't even said anything. It was an innocent response to an equally unassuming question - what are those papers on your desk.

"Schedule," he grunted. "Schedule, boarding pass, I think. NDAs. The usual."

He'd gone rigid the second the words left his mouth. The usual. His usual which you hadn't been introduced to. Maybe because he trusted you that much or maybe because he knew if he did, it all would simply end. Either or he seemed to be much more certain of your decision than you yourself were because even after five days of mulling it over, you had no clue which direction would be the right one.

"Why did you come here?" you sighed, wincing at the sheer amount of guilt in his eyes. He shouldn't feel guilty. This was his life; this was his usual. Just because it wasn't yours didn't mean it was inherently heinous.

"I don't know," he breathed weakly. "Just wanted to see you. I thought...I worried," he pulled in another gasp, appearing strong for a second before crumpling into a round-back figure, staring at your carpet. "I was scared."

"I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye."

He looked into your eyes, tired, appearing older, worn. You wonder if he saw the same in you.

"I don't want to say bye either."

You swayed on the backs of your heels.

"So what is the situation?"

He drew a huge sigh, hand reaching to squeeze the bridge of his nose.

"The management is hounding me for you to sign an NDA. Strictly speaking, it should have been done months ago but I vouched for you. Assumed full responsibility. Said you were smart and caring. You wouldn't harm me."

Your breath stuttered. Trust was one thing, putting his own neck on a chopping block - quite another.

"Why would you do that?" you cried out, battling the sudden onslaught of too many unwanted emotions.

He gazed at you with genuine confusion just before simply answering:

"Why wouldn't I?"

JIN: "Don't pick a fight, please," Jin mumbled, disinterestedly kicking around the dirt outside of the ice cream parlour.

"I'm not picking a fight," you objected, though you could feel your voice raising in pitch from the surging frustration. "I just want some clarity."

"There's no need to rush into this..."

"I'm not rushing! I'm just ready, I'll sign it and it'll be done. I'm okay wit-"

"But I'm not," he interrupted harshly. Hands twirling with each other in that damning way they did when anxiety was swallowing him whole. "I...I don't want you to sign it."

Seven words. Neither of which prolonged or complicated in nature. The basics of language any newcomer would know. I'd like to order a taxi. No, I don't need a bag.

I don't want you to sign it.

So why was it so difficult to grasp? Why did it feel like you were just sat down in front of an exam that needed a several thousand-word literary analysis, and you had no knowledge of what subject this even was.

I don't want you to sign it.

Had you not retired to a bench nearby, no more than three minutes away from the damn ice cream shop you could just ask him but you doubt he would give a genuine answer.

A cup of three-scoop ice cream floated into your vision and without much thinking, you accepted it with a quiet thank you. Jin dropped down on the bench, not quite near to touch you but not so far to feel like a chasm had erupted between you. For a while, you both lounged, each in your own thoughts and eating the ice cream, enjoyed the good weather.

"So, the reason why," Jin coughed, clearly battling to find the next word. "I don't want you to sign it, is because I've seen all of this before."

"What do you mean?" you blinked at him but he avoided your gaze, appearing uncharacteristically solemn.

"I've seen dozens of people thinking they understand, thinking that they'll be okay; signing off with smiles on their faces only for it to turn sour," he shook his head, hair flying about. "No, turn brutal. Engagements torn apart, accidental lawsuits, I love you's turning into I hope you croak like a sick dog."

With another sigh, he placed the cup of ice cream on the bench, nausea written all over his sullen expression.

"And I'd rather we fight a thousand more times before it goes that way. That document..." he trailed off, needing a whole minute to pick up the conversation again. "That document is like an infection. We need to be our healthiest when signing it and even then it's never a guarantee of survival."

"But we've come to an awkward stop point," you noted faintly. "A neither here nor there."

"Stops are not a bad thing," Jin insisted, reaching to cautiously interlace his fingers with yours. You accept and he smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Not if you know where you're going eventually and you're spending it with someone you like."

"I guess so," you drawled, gazing up at the passing cloud.

HOSEOK: If one would think, it'd be smooth sailing after two looped lines of your signature over the dotted line, they'd be sorely mistaken. He probably didn't intend for you to feel like the villain, perhaps no one did but hearing the lawyer go over every point, mechanically pouring over one hot tar of blame after another...well, you couldn't just shake off the sickly feeling that Hoseok thought very little of you.

"You're not allowed to besmirch, demean or in any way belittle the reputation of my client."

"I would ne -"

"You're not allowed to share any details of my client's personal schedule with any third-party informants, digital, personal or otherwise. Direct or even indirect violation will be pursued with legal punishment."

"I understa -"

"The individual, that is you, shall not be held criminally or civilly liable under any federal or state law for the disclosure of this agreement only if it is made in confidence to a federal, state, or local government official or either directly or indirectly, or to an attorney; and is done so solely for the purpose of reporting or investigating

a suspected violation of the law."

"In cases such as?"

The attorney shrugged.

"Domestic abuse, et cetera."

Even now chills racked your spine. All too abruptly a dream had turned into a chilling nightmare of reality.

"What did you get yourself into?" you muttered to your paled reflection in the mirror. You just handed all of your trust into one person. Yes, that person might be Hoseok but he was after all one person. How many "would never's" had turned into restraining orders, pain, and betrayal?

The soft knock at the bathroom door startled you so bad it pulled a scream from the bottom of your lungs. He stood on the other side of those doors, looking the most dishevelled you'd ever seen him. Heavy bags clung underneath his eyes and even fraught with panic, you wondered when was the last time he slept.

"How are you holding up?" Hoseok asked softly and you gave a timid shrug. "Do you want me...to stay?"

"Yes? No? I don't know? Fuck, I don't know anything anymore."

Hoseok outstretched his hand and guided you to sit on the sofa, expression growing increasingly worried.

"You're freezing," he fretted. "Here, get underneath the blanket."

After a brief moment in which he made tea, Hoseok returned to sit on the floor by your side.

"How bad was it?" he questioned barely above a whisper.

"It's just a legal document but even so I feel..." you clutched the edge of the thin blanket. He'd actually given it to you. On which occasion you couldn't recall but it was definitely a gift. Would you have to get rid of it if things ended? How many more things you would have to?

"Cheap. Trapped. Scared."

"Are you," he swallowed nervously. "Scared of me?"

You sagged into the sofa.

"I don't know. I know you would never hurt me but..." you trailed off into silence. "It's terrifying all the same."

The silence lasted for a whole hour with numerous seconds of attempted questions that all were laid to waste. What you either you or he could ask that didn't end up with "I don't know". You couldn't see into the future though at times like these you desperately wished you could.

JIMIN: It seemed that he had hoped to God that in the face of his overwhelming love this unsettling bit of reality grinding in your eye like a grain of sand would go entirely unmentioned. That you would not think about it, doltishly sign the agreement and ride him quite literally into the sunset.

No, no, not doltishly, you reminded yourself after a sharp exhale, shaking off the tremors of lingering wrath, he doesn't think you're dumb. He was just...scared.

Looking at the clutched paper in your hands, whilst sitting on the cold sand, you saw why he would be.

"I've got a temper."

"That's fine."

"I can be distant."

"I'm going to respect that."

"I have trouble apologizing."

"We can work on that."

"I'm independent and I won't be bound by some silly rules to dictate what I will or will not do."

At that, he'd finally blinked and you'd felt sad? Happy?

It was a sickening circle - to find the perfect person, then raise the bar so high that they couldn't possibly jump that high and be left behind. Rather they leave because you were too much than leaving because you weren't enough. If someone would say it makes no damn sense, to be so afraid of abandonment and yet go through the same motions over and over again all but ensuring that you would be, you would say "yeah, that's fucked up, what can I tell you".

"That's understandable," he'd only replied and you had leaned back into the chair, astonished. Was Jimin finally the perfect person who would love you unconditionally? Well...no. He was a person and faults were normal. Out of seven days a week, he annoyed you three, pissed you off maybe one or two. And that was normal. For him, you finally learned that it was expected and instead of blowing up into pieces of bleeding shards, you could simply exhale your anger. Free of judgment. Of course, he was not perfect but that meant he could accept your imperfections as well. Some he shared, and some were polar opposites but he accepted them just like you did his. But this...This was a bit different.

And now you understood that in those seven or eight blinks he'd taken in the seat across the restaurant table on one of the first official dates, he hadn't been exactly taken aback by your forthcoming attitude on your own shortages, but rather he grew intrinsically aware of how badly the inevitability of this paper would go.

You shuddered. In a frightening mix of rage and panic, you'd fled the hotel room in nothing but a thin shirt. His actually now that you looked at it. Without your knowledge, you had made it seem that if he would present you this paper, you'd drop him without a moment's hesitation. And truthfully -

"You would have," Jimin quietly finished behind your back, coming to a stop by your chosen spot on the beach. A jacket and a blanket in hand. Perfect - no, considerate? All the way.

Feeling him tuck it over your shoulder, you grumbled:

"Stop somehow reading my mind, it's creepy."

Plopping down next to you, he stared off into the sea. Funny that you should have met by water too. When he had accidentally kicked a ball in your face but that was neither here nor there.

"You just have a very expressive face."

For a while, you both listened to the waves, wanting that to be the end of the night. A peaceful conclusion before a series of everything going the usual way. But it will not be the usual way, unfortunately. This measly slip of printed paper suggested so.

"So is this going to be goodbye?" Jimin questioned thinly. "In the past, you would have said "see ya, would never want to be ya" and dip."

Even now he somehow managed to make you laugh, though his own smile was just an alternate mask of sadness.

"Thing is I'm not my past self anymore. For better, worse?" you shrugged, abandoning that thought to another. "And I...I don't want to lose you anymore."

With the corner of your eye, you spot him glimpsing towards you absolutely stunned. So he couldn't read the whole of your mind yet.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I should have...approached this differently. Sooner? Better? But I was just so..."

"Scared?" you finished for him and Jimin hid his face into his forearms, a vague smile playing on the corner of his mouth.

"Now whose reading my mind?"

"Soulmate things," you flipped your hair and he chuckled. "Well, second to Taehyung or whatever, cheater."

TAEHYUNG: The phone rang itself off the nightstand where it crashed unforgivingly against the ground.

"You sure you're not going to get that?" you asked and Taehyung snorted, wrapping his arm around you even tighter.

"What are they going to do? Fire me? Don't think so."

You listened to his heartbeat enjoying this brief respite of normalcy. You lying on your boyfriend's chest, watching TV and Tannie snoring in between you both. Domestic bliss. When his phone began to ring again, this time vibrating like a chainsaw against the boards, you and Taehyung ignored it as well. You loved this man to death but oh you hated his work line. How you hated all these prying eyes, watching how much he weighed, did he have stubble or not, did he bow at the correct angle. Sometimes you just wish it'd be feasible to take him away and never return back.

"I wish I could abduct you," you mutter, knowing he won't take offence to these silly thoughts. "Bring you far, far away where people wouldn't go crazy about who you are."

"I wish that too," he sighed. The NDA that was thrust aggressively in front of your face had Taehyung frothing at the mouth. Apparently all this time he'd been trying so hard to make everything seem so normal. Your perfectly normal boyfriend with your perfectly normal lives in between aberrant series of events that spiralled beyond your control.

"Is that selfish?"

"Yes," he kissed the top of your head. "You're a horrible, selfish person and I'm but a helpless victim, ensnared by your sensual prowess."

You slapped his chest and Tannie barked, hazily lifting his head to glance around out of focus and then crash once more.

The phone kept ringing and you kept on ignoring it, despite the pauses between the calls growing shorter and shorter.

"I don't want to sign it," you mumbled. "Not yet. I hope you're not mad."

"I'm not," he assured. "I don't want you to sign it either. I don't want to put...this chain around your neck. That's not what love is."

"You're not the wrongdoer here."

"Yet, I feel like one," he sighed. "I want to love you without papers, without documents, without some lawyer always ready to tear you for something that you should be able to have. I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry."

"Last night we said a great many things. You said I was to do the thinking for both of us, well, I've done it," the movie droned on.

"Whose going to do the thinking for us, Tae?" you hummed and he sighed.

"Tannie."

As the phone finally felt silent, after the consecutive 73 calls, you wondered aloud:

"How long do we have?"

"No idea. Maybe a week, maybe a day. They're going to force the thing on us eventually. Either way, I've intended to spend it with you and you alone. No paper will tell me whether or not I should trust you."

JUNGKOOK: When you kicked open the doors to the conference room, the two lawyers were so startled they fell out of their chairs and onto the ground, badly bruising their tailbones in the process.

"You cannot publish -"

"I understand."

"You cannot share this -"

"I don't have any friends."

"Your family must not -"

"I'm an orphan."

Jungkook had to press a palm over his mouth to stop the bubbling laughter that would surely be inappropriate at a time like this.

The lawyer wiped the sweat off his brow.

"Do you have anything to add?"

You beamed at the man and pulled your own NDA, held together by a hello kitty clip.

"I'd like for him," you pointed at Jungkook. "To sign this."

After a terse academic and verbally violent exchange spanning for a whole hour and forty minutes, you signed Jungkook's NDA and he did yours, and with ashen faces sporting quite the thin veneer of politeness towards you the lawyers left. Jungkook reached to hold your hand, smiling from cheek to cheek.

"So... officially together," he congratulated quietly and you nodded.

"Yes," looking him over, you pondered. "So can I jump you now or...?"

He sputtered.

"Are you using me just for my body?" he covered his chest in mock indignance.

"I mean, partly," you drawled in deep thought. "Though as much as I like your boobs I do love the heart behind them."

After a kiss to your nose, he swayed in the hug, pretending that the car horns blasting outside were the strumming notes of a romantic movie soundtrack.

"You're sure of this, right?" insecurely, he questioned. Just to make sure. Just to know...that...

The thought evaded him yet the fear did not.

"I'm not stupid, Jungkook," you scoffed though with no malice. "I know who you are and have decided to be a responsible adult about it."

He nodded, mentally checking out what size of a ring would he need to order.

"Besides," you flicked his forehead. "If anyone's going to break the NDA, it's going to be you. You're like obsessed with me."

Accusingly, you dug a finger into his chest and Jungkook was only 50% sure it wasn't done to have an excuse to touch him. Apparently, you wanted to bite his pecks.

"Oh, my genuine congratulations," Namjoon had drawled aridly when Jungkook in fact had crashed his studio drunk and giggling about this cutie he'd been on a date with. "You managed to find someone as equally weird as you. Get married, you freaks. God bless."

He thought it was endearing and yes, maybe he was healthily obsessed but at least something so frail as a paper and the fragile ego of strangers will not sabotage his joy.

© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #jin x reader #jin x you #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #jimin x reader #jimin x you #taehyung x reader #taehyung x you #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts reaction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #bts crack

[livingbarbie]

finding a hobby ‧⁺˚*･༓☾

something really key to improving your self esteem and productivity is getting off of that phone !! but i feel like we all know this, and most of us also know that the best way to get off your phone is to find a hobby. this sounds simple enough, but it might be one of the hardest things i've had to do in my growth journey.

finding a hobby can be really difficult for a multitude of reasons:

there are so many possibilities - if you google 'hobbies', you are hit with hundreds (or even thousands) of ideas. while that's promising at first, as you scroll through these lists it can become quite overwhelming and confusing. after ten minutes of scrolling, you're likely to just lay back down and play on your phone again.

lack of interest - the biggest issue for me was simply a lack of interest in ANYTHING. i would scroll through lists on google, tumblr, whatever and nothing at all would catch my eye. this is probably something to do with instant gratification (i don't know much about it), and is most likely a result of the amount of time i spent on my phone doing a whole lot of nothing. either way, know you are not alone in this feeling!

perfectionism - if you do find something that peaks your interest, that's great! however, i know a lot of us struggle with perfectionism. often this can cause you to give up on the hobby almost as quickly as you started it, because you are not outstanding at it immediately. once again, you will probably end up feeling defeated and resort back to your phone.

it took me a long time to be able to push past these obstacles, but once i did it was so insanely rewarding. here are some of the things that helped me to do so:

hide your phone - so silly, but this truly did help. i put my phone in a drawer, and closed it. with my phone out of sight, i couldn't just pick it up out of habit. this forced me to kind of just sit with my boredom, and eventually i found things to do. (usually ended up being something from the MANY lists i had read)

try anything - i mean ANYTHING, anything at all. pick something that didn't really catch your eye at all and just try it. for example. i tried crochet out of boredom. it turned out that i didn't really enjoy it that much, but now i know how to crochet which is kind of cool. just try as many new things as possible, until something sticks.

change your mindset - shift that perfectionist mindset ASAP. find a way to embrace doing things badly. this is way harder than it sounds, but it is so worth it in all aspects of your life. try things and do them badly. learn to accept your bad attempts at things. these hobbies are for you and your enjoyment only, you do not have to show people. the best thing you can do for yourself is give yourself permission to make mistakes.

i have found many hobbies in the past year, some i am more passionate about than others. these are some of my favourites:

reading: an idea you have probably seen everywhere, but it is genuinely a favourite of mine. don't buy into the idea that you HAVE to read in a pretentious way. for many people, classics and books written in the 1800's are not enjoyable and that is perfectly okay. don't be afraid to read something that might seem silly (e.g fantasy, young adult, even children's novels). there is no point in trying to read something you know you probably won't enjoy.

coding: i got into this by accident if i'm being honest, i just got hooked on it when watching my younger brother do something for his digital technology class. this is something i NEVER would've guessed i would like. if you have access to a laptop or a computer, it is so worth trying. there are thousands of free resources online to teach you, and it is super fun learning to code your own little projects.

dance: something i sometimes do in my spare time is learn dances (specifically k-pop dances). i enjoy a lot of k-pop girl group music, so i find learning the dances really fun (and sometimes challenging). i would totally recommend trying this, k-pop or not, as it also doubles as exercise!

learn a language: you can do this in so many different ways, whether you learn the basics of many languages or you dedicate yourself to fluency in a single language. this is such a cool skill to build, and i honestly just find it really fun.

this is a very brief overview of finding a hobby, but the main point i want you to takeaway is to try anything and everything. ultimately, you will not know whether you enjoy something until you try it. please do not feel discouraged when you don't enjoy the first few things you try, there is something for everyone !

stay dreamy, my angels <3

#hobbies #it girl #self care #self love #self improvement #girl blogger #dream girl #wonyoungism #motivation #barbie #feminine energy #pink pilates princess #self concept

[ashtonlc3]

Severitus/Sevitus Fic Rec

Thought I’d share my own personal fic list that I’ve complied over time featuring Snape and Harry developing some kind of father-son relationship, all the way through either bio-dad, adoption, guardian or mentorship. All of these fics are COMPLETE because after OME leaving me on the world’s biggest cliff hanger and losing the fic for many months because I’m an idiot, I have serious WIP trust issues. They’re also usually really long because I love angsty, slow-burn fics.

I started taking in-depth notes while I read through fics a while ago so that I would NEVER lose a favourite fic again (the title of one of my favs is in Latin, so I never remember what it’s called). And also because I have a terrible memory so remembering what happened in each fic is quite difficult for me. Assuming I know how to count there should be over 16 fics listed here.

I’ve also rated each fic out of 10 and added a couple of notes for each fic (I didn’t add any with a rating of 5 or lower cause these are meant to be recommendations not a reading log). I’ve put them in order of how much I liked them, 10 and 9s being my equivalent to an Outstanding, 8 and 7 an Exceeds Expectations and a 6 an Acceptable.

TW: As is usually the case with Severitus, ALL of these fics have some degree of child abuse in them, courtesy of the Dursleys, with various degrees of intensity.

O Mine Enemy By Kirby Lane 10/10

You’ve probably already read this one because it is legendary in the Severitus genre and a staple for any fic list. In the event that you haven’t, you SHOULD read it ASAP. Starts summer of sixth year. 

TW addiction/substance abuse

Victus per Reproba Monumentum By firefly5151 9/10

For a long time I didn’t read anything that had Sev as Harry’s bio dad, it felt implausible, OOC and just was not as good as the guardian/mentor trope. That is until I read this fic, and now the bio-dad trope is my favourite. This fic is the Snape of Severitus, there are a LOT of flaws but I love it anyway. The plot is a bit questionable, it has manipulativeDumbledore (which I don’t like in fics) and Ron and Hermione pretty much forget Harry exists. BUT the emotional journey is amazing, and really angsty. Starts during summer of 6th year.

The Subterfuge By Murai-Sakura 9/10

This fic is on the newer side having been written in 2020. My first time reading this fic I had a few mixed feelings about it which made me reluctant to read it again despite really liking it. Reading it again for the second time I can’t understand what past Ash’s problem was because it was magnificent. Granted I remember it being darker than it actually is (it may have been due to me reading The Hunger Games in-between, who knows). I’m rambling, in short I think I liked this one a little more than A Year Like None Other. The plot is unique enough that the story doesn’t feel like your reading a rehash of every Severitus fic ever while still hitting the emotional points necessary for a satisfying fic. It’s definitely more mentor than father figure and is set during fifth year so watch out for Umbridge.

TW suicide attempt and graphic child abuse 

A Year Like None Other By aspeninthesunlight 9/10

Another classic whose reputation speaks for its-self, written before HBP came out and is also insanely long. I’ve actually never read the sequals either because one was enough for me and it’s in Draco’s pov. It also has the added bonus of brother bonding between Draco and Harry. Set during 6th year. 

TW self harm and graphic torture

Perception is Everything By Kendra James 8/10

This was one of the first few Severitus fics I ever read so it has a very special place in my heart despite the plot being a very standard Severitus setup. Set Christmas 6th year, Snape finds out about the Dursleys abuse when Harry gets sick over Christmas break.

You've forgotten who I am By CastlePheonix 8/10

I’ve only read this one once so I’m taking past Ash’s word for it. Set during 5th year, a what if Snape actually hit Harry with the jar after the Pensieve incident. Harry gets temporary amnesia and spends some time in Spinner’s End with Snape. 

TW addiction/substance abuse

Whelp & Whelp II - The Wrath of Snape By jharad17 7/10

The standard run down; the Dursleys are dicks, Sev finds out. This is pre-Hogwarts (7 years old) so you know Harry is going to be adorable and clingly. Vernon has Harry tied up in the yard like a dog.

Namesake Necklace By WiCeBa 7/10

This fic is a little more recent I think. Set summer before the start of 5th year, Harry and Dudley are de-aged. This ones quite the adventure and Sirius is still alive so you know there’s gonna be a fight over Harry.

What I Must Ask You To Do By VeraRose19 7/10

Set at the end of GOF and continues into 7th year. This story is not just a Severitus but also an exploration of the blossoming friendship between Severus and Sirius as they co-parent Harry together. The story is far fluffier than it is angsty and relies quite heavily on canon for plot whilst also taking out the adventure and death toll. It’s more a fluffy, canon, best case scenario than an angsty, slow-burn fic.

Emerald eyes By JadeSullivan 7/10

I cannot remember this one at all so once again I’m taking past Ash’s word for it. This is set during 2nd year and does feature corporal punishment.

Prisoners By Whitetail 7/10

Harry is de-aged to 4 and Sev has partial paralysis. So they stay at a little cottage by the sea. Hermione features quite heavily in this one, both her and Harry end up with Sev gaining guardianship of them.

To Recollect the Future By oliversnape  7/10

When Harry is hit with the killing curse in DH Harry and Sev are sent back to first yeah. Harry and Sev pretty much spend the whole fic Horcrux hunting, its a fun bonding experience.

In plain sight & Close to the Chest By waitingondaisies 7/10

This is always a fun one. Set during 6th year, Sev found out as a spy so Albus turns him into a 16 year old Gryffindor and gives him an embarrassing name. Seriously Albus, Alfonse “Eli” Hopkirk, really? 

Time Left Today By gzdacz 7/10

Sev and Harry are on the run after Quirrell is killed by an 11 year old. The road trip is quite fun although I don’t really like the ending too much though.

The Trouble with Polyjuice By LilyEvansDouble 6/10

2nd year. Features Snape as Harry’s biological father after the Polyjuice incident.

Summer of Bonding By Magica Draconia 6/10

This one is set after PS as the Dursley never pick Harry up from Kings Cross so Harry stays with Snape. Snape collects horse figurines in this one and is very heavily featured in this story. So its a bit too niche for my liking but otherwise still a good read.

And that’s all I got. I’ll probably come back to this list (yeah cause I forgot to put in tags) and add more fics as I read them. (When I add new fics I’ll reblog this post with a change log so you don't need to read through the list again to figure out what’s been changed.) My TBR is usually just as long so ... to forever be continued.

#severitus #severitus fic #sevitus

[narachilde]

a midnight stroll.

(gentle!blade x gender neutral reader)

scenario: your late night walks with blade were always a way for you to be there for him. tonight, you decide to take it further.

tags: fluff? it’s got kind of angsty vibes but it’s fluff.. slowburn-esque. not proofread. gentle blade, blade is healing, you help blade heal. au where he can actually walk around on the xianzhou without getting arrested immediately.

words: 1.1k

notes: this is entirely self indulgent i thought of this while walking around as him on the luofu pls dont be mad if you don’t hc blade as a gentle person i just want to hold his hand.. anyway you have a calming effect on his mara here and you want him to trust you more. also i just wrote this really quickly so sorry if it isn’t literary excellence. enjoy!

edit: i was really surprised with how many people liked this so i went ahead and wrote kind of a follow up fic that could be considered a pt 2! feel free to check it out if you like my take on gentle blade i’m really happy so many of you liked this :)

it was difficult to find a quiet place on the luofu. different kinds of people were always wandering around wherever you went, which posed a challenge for your attempts to try to get blade to go out more.

it had been a while since you were first able to help quell the mara within him. it still acted up every now and then, of course. after all, mara never truly goes away, and his case was particularly special. but you could calm him down from time to time and keep him somewhat sane while it threatened to push him over the edge, which was enough for him to allow you to stay around.

it was your idea to take him out more, but he was still pretty resistant to it. he wasn’t a people person, and the xianzhou reminded him of a past he wasn’t supposed to linger too much on. but you knew that keeping him cooped up until you departed for your next stop was unreasonable, so little by little you tried to get him out of his comfort zone.

it was an absolute no when the sun was out. too many people passing by, too much worry that he’d be recognized even though nobody was actively looking for him. more than anything else, he didn’t like how the mara threatened to show itself on the xianzhou. at night he could restrain himself better. but in the day, surrounded by all those people in a place so bittersweet? he would rather not test himself in such a way.

so you only went out with him in the late hours of midnight, when the streets were finally quieter and the only company he could keep was you (and the occasional stranger). the stores were all closed by now, the only illumination on your path being the warm glow of the street lanterns, and the rare food stall that had yet to close up.

this night was particularly empty. the soft tap tap of your footsteps played in your ears as the two of you took your usual route around the exalting sanctum. after your first time taking him out, he always walked a bit ahead of you. despite his claims of discomfort in these surroundings, he was rather at ease with taking the lead on your walks. perhaps it was the same sense of familiarity that he complained about giving him this confidence. or maybe it was just that he also recognized the intimacy of your late night walks, but was unwilling to confront it. whatever it was, you had no qualms with staying two paces behind him. this distance was kept at all times. if you stopped, so did he- but two steps ahead, of course. he would turn to watch you with soft but guarded eyes until you continued your walk.

the two of you had an understanding like this. blade was never the talkative type, so you largely depended on intuition to understand what he was thinking. you knew he was growing more comfortable with your presence. on a good day, you’d even go as far as to say he enjoyed it. as long as you were patient, you were sure you could become someone he was more open to relying on.

blade came to a stop before one of the streams the two of you liked to walk along. you stopped as well (two steps behind, as always). the atmosphere by the stream was always serene. you watched him take in the sounds- the frogs croaking by the lilies, the crickets chirping around you, the reassuring sound of the water making its way downstream. blade always stopped here. you knew the gentle sounds brought him peace.

he didn’t turn around this time. tonight he was contemplative of something you could only guess the reason for. he got like this from time to time. you knew he wasn’t too fond of living inside his mind- too many bad memories. whatever he was contemplating, you wished he would voice it for once. you understood that it would take him a long time to open up, and yet there was still that yearning for his trust. if only you could better convey your emotions to him.

you took a step forward. honestly, you hadn’t even realized you had done it until you noticed his demeanor shift ever so slightly. he tensed up in a way that told you he was receiving your actions with hesitance, as he usually did. you stopped yourself, one pace behind. but you didn’t move back. likewise, he didn’t move away. a sign of acceptance. you took it in stride.

he relaxed again soon after. you sensed he had convinced himself that the one step was alright. it was a great milestone for you, though. even if he hadn’t acknowledged it yet, a closer distance like this meant he was becoming more comfortable. maybe he really was coming to terms with the idea of having someone to trust on levels beyond that of business. you allowed yourself a small smile with this development.

but to truly get him to trust you, you had to go further. maybe tonight wasn’t a night of silent understanding, but rather of gentle action. more than anything else, you wanted blade to really understand you were there for him. so as he stared off towards the stream, you did something neither of you could have anticipated.

you held his hand.

or you tried to, at least. as your hand came down to hold his, he stiffened once more. almost instinctively, he began to pull away. physical contact, beyond that of the violence he had wreaked, was something he hadn’t allowed himself in a long time. and yet, he didn’t pull away completely. a part of him lingered, the warmth of your hand like a newfound comfort to him. one too gentle for him to accept.

but you were there, and you weren’t going to be the one to pull away first. you needed him to know that you were there for him. and for once, he found that he couldn’t say no to your gentle offer. his hand slipped back into yours.

neither of you said a word. blade continued to watch the water, leaving you to feel content with the progress you made. when he was finally satisfied he turned towards you, silently confirming you were ready to go, as he always did. his hand didn’t leave yours when he continued on the route you always took.

and you followed him, half a step behind.

#narawrites #honkai star rail #hsr #hsr blade #blade #blade x reader #blade x you #blade is soft #he’s hurt and he needs to heal #and you’re there for him

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

omg hi babe it's been so fucking long im not even sure if you remember me but how are you love omg 💗

i had like the worst fucking day ever and lately my mental health has been so fucking horrible and i just wanted to see if you could write a cute little fic ab reader having a horrible day and accidentally snapping at peter quill abt it and feeling annoyed by him a bit. you can write it whenever you want mwah 🫶🫶

but how are you doing omg ive been keeping up w u and your drabbles are so fucking cute omg 😭💗💗

ily mwah

-🎡

hii!! AAAH!! ofc I remember you, ive missed you omg!! im really sorry you’ve been having a hard time bby, I hope this can be of some comfort to you. I got a little carried away as I love comfort fics sm and must admit I kinda needed it too😭 but im doing good, hope things are going well for you too (or as well as they can) you’re so sweet thank you😩 ily angel💗 thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

…

got your back

peter quill x fem!reader

word count: 807

warnings: little angsty? reader snaps at quill and mentions of reader being insecure in the relationship. fluffy ending

✧.┊ MASTERLIST

Peter has many admirable qualities, his most endearing being his deep-rooted ability to empathise. You adored how he cares so deeply about others, especially the ones he loves most. It was one of the things that drew you to him the most. 

Lately, you have been having a rough time, so to speak, and things weren't going in your favour. Your boyfriend, Peter, was aware and did everything he could for you to feel better, even if it was only for a little while.

Every day was different. Some days were easier, others, not so much, and it just so happened that today was one of the more difficult days. It was the kind of day where everything went wrong. The day where your clothes get caught in every door handle, the kind where you drop everything you hold. The sort of day that leaves you with an empty pit in your stomach when you finally catch a minute alone. 

Peter was always so kind and patient with you that it often made you question what you did to deserve him. For you, he's loving and caring, sweet and funny, the perfect combination of all the best traits a person could have. 

You felt overwhelmed with many things and the self-doubt that Peter would find someone better than you weighed heavy on your mind. You were in your bedroom alone, door closed, curtains shut with your head in your palms. 

A soft knock on your door interrupts you from your thoughts. "Hey, honey? Everything okay?" Peter asks through the door, his tone full of warmth.

"Yeah," you reply shortly, burying your face in your arms.

"Are you sure? You can talk to me," he says. "I'm right here."

"Yes, I'm sure," you respond with more bite, growing frustrated.

"Okay, I'm here if you need me," he adds, speaking just as sweetly as before despite your harsh tone.

"I'm fine, just go away!" you snap, throwing a pillow at the door. "Fuck off, just leave me alone."

You didn't have to see his face to know how much your words had hurt him. You regret the sentence as soon as they slipped past your lips, but it was too late. You said them, and they can’t be unsaid. 

"Okay," he whispers, tapping on the door as a farewell.

It felt like it had all just got a whole lot worse, and you just tarnished the one thing that made it easier to cope. The guilt was eating you up, and all you wanted to do was apologise. But you told him to leave, so why would he still be here?

You pace your room for a few minutes, gathering your words for an apology while momentarily cursing yourself out. You were scrounging for ways to make it up to him and patch over the mess you made.

With a small pep talk and a final nod, you open your door and see Peter sitting on the floor beside the door, leaning against the wall with crossed legs.

"Hi," you smile weakly.

"Hey," he smiles, an airy tone to his voice, speaking like he finally got his breath back. "I'm sorry— I shouldn't have pushed you. I know how you get. It’s the last thing I wanted—" he anxiously gushes, talking like he had practiced it. 

You interrupt, shaking your head. "No, please don't do that. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s all my fault— I'm so sorry. I should have never spoken to you like that. It all got too much, and I couldn't— I'm just really sorry," you profess, fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. 

"I know, honey," he replies, nodding understandingly. 

"You're too good to me," you whisper, avoiding his green gaze. "I'm just not used to it."

"I'm still here, baby and I ain't gonna leave you," he says, looking up at you with sweet doeful eyes. "I'm not leaving you like the others." 

He extends an arm, his hand reaching for yours as he guides you closer, gently tugging you downwards. He nods at his lap, so you straddle his crossed legs, pressing your chest to his, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him tighter. His big, warm arms encase you and his hand brushes comforting strokes down your back, as his other clutches the back of your head, holding you like he's protecting you. 

You bury your face further into the crook of his neck, silently weeping and embracing him tighter. "I love you," you mumble against his skin, playing with the curls behind his ears. 

"I love you," he smiles, pulling back to look at you. He wipes under your eyes, softly brushing away your residual tears. He kisses the damp patch of skin beside your nose, looking at you with nothing but admiration. "... so much."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

quill taglist: @annielr @spacetalbot @bubblezuku @idontknowwhattohaveasmyuser @queerponcho @selfryed @traiitorjoe

#peter quill #peter quill fanfic #peter quill x reader #peter quill drabble #peter quill fanfiction #peter quill x fem!reader #peter quill imagine #peter quill fluff #peter quill comfort #peter quill x you

[cebwrites]

hi hi Ceb! It’s me Nico! And I was wondering if you could write some zoro fluff with a ftm reader who’s having a tough time with back issues and improperly binding? If not that is absolutely a okay and I hope you have a great evening, night or day!

a/n: hell yeah i can do that!! trans guys are my bread and butter >:3 you asked for zoro but this kind of turned into a nakama piece from the SHs supporting their friend too oops

binding pains (Zoro x Reader)

pre-timeskip, t4t mlm zoro and reader, smut mention but no details word count: 1.2k

Zoro was the first to notice.

Well, maybe some of the others have too, but only few others out of the Strawhats are able to pinpoint the exact reason behind the discomfort you desperately try to hide; how you can never find a comfortable angle to lounge on the couch, the awkward ways you have to sit at the table to eat without irritating the dull throb that's become a near-constant in your day to day, and your perpetual slouch getting worse.

It was getting more difficult to hide that pain in the aftermath of simple sparring, too, let alone actual fights with the usual suspects you and your crew had to contend with.

You'd shut down any concern shown your way by older members of the crew; queer elders that knew precisely what the problem was, but you weren't ready to be vulnerable enough with them to hear out any potential solution yet. Everyone had only just gotten together, picking up a funny old skeleton on some fucked up Warlord's travelling island a week or so back and having only saved Robin from the clutches of the government a month or two before that.

You understood that Robin was only trying to be proactive in comforting her newfound family but you weren't ready yet—a fact she seemingly understood and kept from prying accordingly, but made sure you knew you'd always have a shoulder to lean on with her. This influenced Franky's support to be a little less high-flown too, somehow.

This sparked new, unrelated, but curious questions in your mind about the nature of their relationship these past few weeks but that - was none of your business. Just as you had your right to privacy, Franky and Robin deserved to come forward about if they were... complimentary to one another or not. Frankly the thought kind of did make you blush a bit, though, like a kid watching their parents share tender but casual affection in the comfort of domesticity.

Now, Roronoa, the beautiful light reflecting off your blade, Zoro - caught on to your act almost immediately. Because this was this was the exact kind of dumb shit he'd pull in the lawless, early days of his transition where he had no one to tell him not to, back when he didn't have nearly half the self-confidence in the man that he was today. Or rather, no one to tell him that he was doing it incorrectly.

The issue he runs into is more of, how, he'd approach this with you instead of if, since he knows he should. Zoro considered going to Chopper first since that little reindeer was the resident doctor, but he didn't know if that would fly into the territory of outing you, and that threw out the possibility of asking for advice from the others too. Not that Zoro could be particularly subtle even if he tried, everyone would know he was talking about his partner the moment he asked.

So he resigns to just approaching you about it himself.

Tucked away in one of the hammocks hung in the men's quarters one lazy evening, Luffy and Usopp's laughter rang loudly, but muffled above the floorboards. Zoro cradled you with one arm around your waist, the other rest comfortably behind his head. You smiled, moments like these were small but many, one of the joys of being on this crew you assumed.

As Zoro moved to rub his arm against your back, however, you can't quite suppress the way you instinctively tense, nor the growing anxiety deep in your chest every time his hand passed against the fabric of your bindings. Logically, you knew this was nothing to be worried about. Zoro was the same, another beautiful trans guy with the enviable confidence to walk around topless. So what if his boyfriend wasn't quite there yet?

"Hey, how's about we look into getting you a binder?" Zoro was cautious, eyes still closed but he listened intently for your response as his hand drifted further down to your lower back, taking a slight bit of pressure of your mind now that he wasn't actively touching the wrappings.

"You're hurting yourself." He'd roll over to face you properly now, both hands gently cradling your waist.

You'd hesitate to meet his gaze, one you knew to be intense ever since the day he first laid eyes on you, and now, in the tender silence you shared with him you knew that the look in his eyes would rival the sun - the intensity of his love for you, his devotion to you threatening to burn your spirit to a crisp.

Hesitantly, but safe in the sanctuary of his arms, you open up to him about your concerns, your fears. How you're afraid perceptions of you might change if a strange piece of new clothing suddenly shows up in the wash and the other crew members have to watch you claim it as yours. He'd assuage your unease with gentle kisses and small talks of affirmation.

How this crew of all people would never choose to treat someone differently for a silly (but understandable fear) reason like that.

That night he helped undo your wrappings and joked that he could hear your spine realign as you afforded yourself a well earned stretch, laughing at the bindings you threw at his face. He sounded even more pleased when you chose to wrap them around his eyes later on, and with permission granted, devoured your body that night in the crow's nest blind.

The next morning or maybe a few days after, he'd urge you to approach Nami about a little extra pocket money for this particular expense, and maybe some moral support when going shopping for it. For the latter, Robin tags along provided you want her to. Chopper doesn't do his usually overblown reaction of finding out someone on the crew is hurt when you go to him about the back problems that you developed after poor binding, but he does tear up and ask you to come to him immediately the next time something like this happens, and that he's sorry for not being someone you could feel comfortable doing that with a lot sooner.

And I mean—hell, if discomfort with your chest got really bad before the gang could find you the right binder, Nami and Sanji would be more than willing to make you a custom one right at home provided they could get their hands on the proper materials. You're surprised that Sanji knows how to sew so well but not so when Nami says she's taking all her hard time and labor for this out of your allowance.

Your pocket money doesn't change, and in fact gets a slight "bonus" the day you get it.

A little fun money, is all. But only ever just this once.

You're overjoyed, you cry when you see how flat you look in the mirror. You can finally play in the water topless like children, bask in the sun without a shirt and have him tease you about tan lines later, and overall don't have to worry about turning yourself into a shrimp just to feel a shred of personhood.

Zoro's there with you the whole process, holding your hand, sharing the same joys he felt with his gender affirmation with you.

There's a little more spring in your step after this and you think, as you look at him nap against your shoulder, that you've never been more in love in your life.

#cebwrites #one piece #one piece x reader #pirate hunter zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #straw hat pirates #zoro x male reader #trans zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #op x reader #op zoro

[drdemonprince]

Recently, I've observed a pattern in my friendships where I connect with people who tend to be people pleasers or are less confident in expressing their thoughts. Given my neurodivergence and direct communication style, I've received feedback about sounding righteous, making them feel unsafe to share. How can I navigate these situations more effectively or seek out individuals with stronger personalities who appreciate straightforwardness?

P.s. it makes me feel so bad every time this happens, it’s not my intent to hurt people and I feel very rejected.

I have a bit of experience with this dynamic myself. Those of us who are read as negative or difficult to please can unwittingly be appealing to people pleasers, because it reminds them of people who have genuinely mistreated them and fraught family or relational dynamics of their past that have dug a real deep groove into their brain. Unfortunately the very qualities that feel familiar to them also burn them, because they want to win us over and soften us, but we're already just being ourselves and not abusive and don't need to soften. I've honestly been on both sides of this dynamic -- the person who keeps accidentally hurting someone's feelings and the one getting hurt with glib comments, incompatible communication styles, or whatever else.

That's just one of many dynamics at play of course. We're both traumatized, othered groups of people who may gravitate to one another because we share so many struggles in common -- but our triggers and sensitive points can be incompatible. When someone expects me to read their mind and pre-empt their needs, for example, it freaks me the fuck out because I've put a lot of work into no longer being that kind of person. At the same time, it's okay and normal for a friend to want you to understand the basics of what makes them comfortable and uncomfortable and to consider their feelings and needs.

Sometimes it's just a conflict one needs to talk through. I have plenty of cherished friends who are sensitive or people-pleasing in nature, and we can make it work because they don't view me in a negative light -- they fundamentally see me as someone they care about and like, and so even if they suddenly feel like I'm making fun of them or have left them out, they are able to check that instinct against the reality they know of me and we can talk about it or they can work on the feeling on their own as the case warrants. If I do say something hurtful or miss the mark, a lot of my closest friends are the types who can tell me, and then it's my job to not freak the fuck out on them or to feel controlled or penned in by them sharing that intimacy with me... sometimes I'm still not the best at it. but lord have i gotten better.

I think one has to just keep endeavoring to be oneself and to communicate early and often. I don't think the solution is ever to censor oneself or to feel that your true self deep down is too cruel or wrong for people to love. I used to really feel that way and still struggle with that sometimes, especially when I hurt people. It can be easy to feel, if you're a kind of negative/blunt seeming person like me, to feel that any time a person shares with you that they are hurt, that they are trying to censor or control you. Sometimes that very much happens. But it isn't always the case. Sometimes a person just wants reassurance that you like them, that you didn't mean the remark in that way, or even just acknowledgement of their pain and that they aren't crazy for feeling how they feel. Not everyone who gets hurt is a crybully or manipulating. Just as not everyone who accidentally hurts people is abusive or cruel.

I used to really gravitate only toward other negative prickly people. I still like that "type" a lot. But there is no type that is wholly trustworthy or safe. I got burned plenty of times by trying to win over the friendship of someone who I thought surely would "Get" me, because they were also blunt and to the point, and I assumed that made them "real," but in actuality they were manipulating people and steamrolling people and trying to make people feel bad. Some people can only be "real" about candid negative opinions. They can't be really contrite. Or curious. or humble. or even tell you directly when they are hurt. They might only be passive aggressive and barbed instead (i have also been that person).

As always I think it's most important to look to a person's actions and the impact they have on others, as well as their own capacity to both self-advocate and to admit fault. Can this person reflect? Can this person say they were wrong or that their opinion changed? Can they own that they might see things in a biased way? That they have their own triggers? That they need things? Do they help people the way those people want to be helped? Do they behave in accordance with a consistence values system you can admire? Do you like how they think things through? Can they understand their own emotions to at least a responsible extent? Etc etc etc. Some people who tick off all the right boxes on these questions will be someone who is pretty sensitive and people-pleasy but working on it. And some of them will be people who are patholdogical demand avoidant naysayers with a chip off their shoulder but who can also be vulnerable. And most of us are all of those things I think.