#of 1) being rejected (like most of my life) or worse 2) getting hurt

[pistatsia]

Don Lorenzo: We all come from childhood (Part 1)

In fact, I have so many questions about Lorenzo that I'm just- I'm not ready to let him go. I love him so much. I really hope that someday we'll get a novel/chapter with him and Snuffy, because otherwise, the world would be too unfair.

He's good, caring, funny, the best, and generally-

Okay, this is where I'll stop and get to the point haha

(Here somewhere I'm looking too deep, somewhere I'm ignoring the farcical setting of Blue Lock. A lot here is based on my own experience (I also was thrown out of home by my parents when I was 13). Some things of course will be misinterpreted since the whole truth is known only by Kaneshiro-sensei. Also, consider the fact that most of the things described here are unconscious)  

1. Relationships/Attachment

Lorenzo is a very loving and grateful person. 

It is evident to anyone that his relationship with Snuffy is imbued with warmth and trust. Lorenzo genuinely loves him, he is willing to do anything for him.

Even his conversation with Barou is initiated in order to get him on Snuffy's side, going through all of his traumas and 'exposing himself' to Barou. Making himself vulnerable, because telling someone that you were once abandoned by your parents is like showing them that you have a flaw that made the most important people in your life disgusted with you. That you're wrong. It's like pointing at your chest and saying 'here's the heart, if you want to hurt me, hit me here'. 

And he's doing all this to help Snuffy.

And it's obvious that Snuffy wouldn't have asked him to do that - it was Lorenzo's initiative. He loves him very much - even though Snuffy isn't perfect, and of course has made his mistakes (which you can't avoid when you're in your late twenties picking up a teenager off the street after a friend's suicide and career collapse). But that's something we'll get back to a little later. 

Lorenzo doesn't pay attention to any of this - he doesn't care what else Snuffy could have given him. He's grateful for what Snuffy has already given him. 

Speaking of his relationship with Barou, it's obvious that they both care for each other equally. Barou isn't rude to him (well, 'not rude' like classic Barou), he accepts him despite all the quirks (I'll come back to that too a bit later), and Lorenzo feels it. For him, Barou is a 'Snuffy' type of person, perfectly accepting and gentle, without the endless pull-push in affection. They're like a reference point that helps ground and gain confidence in the relationship with both of them.

Lorenzo is also quite open in his affections. He has a certain authority within the Ubers, giving them the command to "get to work". He doesn't avoid people or push them away in the fear of intimacy and the pain that follows, but reaches out to them himself. In doing so, he shows no visible fear of being rejected - on the contrary, he behaves as freely and even strangely as possible, without trying to adjust his behaviour to society's standards; behaviour that would make him 'his own'. Remember this moment, because it will be important a bit later.

He adores both Barou and Snuffy so much because they accept him without question. Like, you're like this, so what? 

They accept him absolutely.

But why is that acceptance so important to Lorenzo?

2. Fear of abandonment.

I think it's redundant to say that having experienced this as a child, it's impossible to become a person with a completely healthy type of attachment. His parents, the people who brought him into this world, who were supposed to teach him how to live, feel and love, abandoned him in the street alone, leaving him to survive and starve. In doing so, apparently keeping his other two brothers for themselves. Lorenzo was the only one left behind. Can you imagine how a child feels after something like that? If they were kept and I was abandoned, I'm definitely broken, I'm disfigured on some primal level, I'm always worse.

I was already born wrong.

The fear of rejection is something that is 99% likely for Lorenzo to have. 

Remember his motto: "Give me a job. Give me money. Give me love." What can a man whose most basic desire is love be afraid of? That he'll lose it.

Can you imagine what that does to the psyche? After such events, one can't help but question oneself. What did I do wrong? Why did things happen the way they did? If I had behaved differently, if I had stayed away from my parents, if I had been more obedient, would I have been kept?

Was it all my fault?

And he lived alone with these thoughts not for a day or two - but probably for years. He says that he lived this life already when he 'was little'. These thoughts may have been reinforced afterwards because he began to realize the moral wrongness of what he was doing to survive (stealing). The psyche can be very persistent in convincing us of bad things: you should have found another way, you let everyone down, Snuffy picked up someone who wasn't worth it. 

Beyond that, as much as I like to portray Lorenzo and Snuffy as parent and child in my writing, it's likely that their relationship is more of a friendship. Even the graffiti caption in the moment where Snuffy picks him up says "who finds a friend finds a treasure".

Snuffy probably didn't live with Lorenzo for a long time - I think he picked him up, fulfilled his wishes, and then sent him to treatment and helped him with his football career. That's already a huge gift, and even more so for Lorenzo. They kept in contact, they saw each other often, they probably called each other.

But at the same time Snuffy was playing at a football club and winning trophies, which you can't do if you're not 100% invested. He was on constant travelling between countries and games. He just didn't have time to always be with Lorenzo - and it's likely that Snuffy (who wasn't given the "How to deal with a teenager abandoned by his parents and saved from starvation" manual) might not have thought about it. It would have been fine on his end. Why? Because Lorenzo, especially as a child, would not have shown him that anything was wrong - remembering the way his parents had thrown him out, he wouldn't have let it happen again. He wouldn't talk about his problems, he wouldn't impose, he'd do anything just to please. Just to be comfortable. Maybe even blaming himself for having those needs, because Snuffy already seemed to have done a hundred times more for him than he should have (from his point of view, of course).

He'd do anything to avoid causing trouble - only for not being left behind.

Imagine - getting someone's love, and not being able to feel it all the time? Constantly losing the only person who ever genuinely loved and cared for you and gave you a chance to start a new life, seeing him off on flights and likely for seasons to other clubs (it's not known how long Snuffy played for the Ubers, but it's likely he was under contract with them and then the club loaned him out to leagues in the countries where he wanted those trophies for Mick. Otherwise the chronology between Mick's death, Lorenzo's find and Blue Lock seems too compressed). It's in some ways even scarier than not feeling love at all ever. Because it's far worse to get love and then lose it again and again.

Even so, Snuffy showed him what it feels like to be loved. He gave him purpose and a new life. He gave him an understanding of that healthy basic need that Lorenzo is so eager to fill - the need for love.

But then we look at his behaviour and we have... questions. Why is Lorenzo so embarrassing? Why does he act so defiant? Why doesn't he adjust to others like, for example, Isagi and Hiori, who were also afraid of being alone? It would seem that if you're weird, you'll never be accepted. If you don't fit in, you won't be loved. Yes, we can say that he just still doesn't fit into social norms because he missed the moment of childhood adaptation to this world, and just doesn't know how to do it. But as the conversation with Barou shows, he is capable of being completely serious in the right moments. He consciously behaves the way he is, without holding back.

We can say that Snuffy showed him that he could be loved for nothing, for himself, whatever he was. But still, after experiencing so many rejections Lorenzo would either fixate on Snuffy alone (only he cares about me, and no one else) or still subconsciously withdraw into a passive role in human relationships. Again, making himself comfortable.

But why does he behave like this in spite of this - making jokes about money, meowing and barking (I'm sorry), not shying away from making jokes about rivals and acquaintances? Why is he so uncomfortable for them?

Because the best defence is offence.

Most likely, when he was a kid, Lorenzo did tried to adjust to his parents. And obviously, even if he succeeded, they still ended up abandoning him. His strategy didn't work, and then it probably didn't work while living on the streets either. He tried to secure his safety, to make sure of it, but then he was tossed out of it.

And that's been imprinted on his memory.

It's both a defence mechanism on his part and an unconscious demonstration of "here I am, this is how bad I am". He was already rejected when he tried to fit in - so why try now, especially when he has Snuffy? 

Think of how pejoratively he talks about himself. How he smiles broadly when he talks about his tragic past. He's being deliberately defiant - yes, I believe only money has power in this world, yes, I was a street rat. Why does he say this, if in order to be accepted he has to hide his flaws? Yes, the past may be impossible to hide, but other things?

Because if he says it himself, and if he laughs about it himself, showing that he doesn't care, it won't hurt him so much when others will talk about it. 

He literally shouts with his appearance - that's how I am! I'm ugly inside and out, I'm a mess, I'm wrong! I'm impossible to love!  

Because if he shows it first, he can endure it when someone else says it. 

Are you saying I only care about money, Mihya? Ha, and I already know, I've already said it myself!

In a relationship, Lorenzo is prepared in advance for the fact that sooner or later this, in his opinion, ugly and vile essence in him, because of which his parents abandoned him, will be recognised, and he will be rejected again. And sets himself up a safe base so that this time it won't be as painful for him as it once was with his parents.

He adores Barou and Snuffy so much precisely because they accept this ugly shell without question. Like, here you are, so what? Sure, he probably doubts them on bad days too, but they're still like stable lighthouses for him. 

So we've covered why Lorenzo acts so openly and perhaps even defiantly. It's a perpetual test of boundaries and a way to protect himself from rejection - how much of this will you take from me? Are you sure you're okay with this? Think again. I'm uncomfortable for you. I will always be.

But there's one thing that doesn't fit with his behaviour, even with that said. 

His "There's nothing in this world money can't buy."

He is obsessed with money, explicitly saying that everything in life can be bought with it (of course, this is not necessarily true - sometimes people lie about themselves as well). He judges players by their stakes, and even calls Raichi worthless. But it seems that the love he longs for this much cannot be bought. And Lorenzo is well aware of this - 'money' and 'love' go separately in his motto.

Dissonance, isn't it? Seems strange for a man like him.

So we move on to the next part of the analysis.

3. A price of the man.

I'm actually very interested in Lorenzo's real relationship with money. I'm sure that because of this terrible background he is quite impulsive (I'll tell you more about this in the second part of the analysis), and more specifically impulsive in his purchases. Even if we're talking about ordinary ones - buying a more expensive juice in a shop, choosing an ice cream not on sale, accidentally buying an adult public transport ticket instead of a youth one. Any expense perceived by the psyche as 'unnecessary' must be met with guilt - either suppressed and ignored, or vivid. Because the psyche has no switch between 'here' and 'then'. It's used to reacting to trigger events according to a certain script that once perhaps helped Lorenzo to survive by avoiding unnecessary expenses. Except now everything seems to be fine, right? Money's there.

But you can't explain it to yourself so easily.

Let's go back to Lorenzo's statements about money and his attitude to it. He quite logically, after such a life, believes that money solves many problems, if not all of them. 

But this stance of his goes a little further than the prices of things and services. 

Remember how he was introduced to us as a character? He remembers the price of every player, he mocks Raichi, he's sarcastic in response to Kaiser's claim.

He asks - Michel, if I defeat you, will I be worth more than you?

Lorenzo still believes that people have some mythical 'value' that he alone cannot grasp. His brothers were more valuable than he was. His parents' lives without him were more valuable than he was. Every person who passed him in the street was more valuable than him.

He believes that on his own he was worth nothing - and that's why he was abandoned.

Remember what he says about his little self? Good-for-nothing. But it's not true. Lorenzo was a kid who just couldn't do anything under those circumstances. He didn't need to be good for anything - he needed to grow up and be a happy little kid. And he was robbed of that.

But he still doesn't accept it, mocking it.

The whole Mr Worthless thing with Raichi is an obvious reference to himself. Because he too, from his point of view, was once worthless. I'm worthless, so I don't matter and I'm nothing.

But why is this 'worth' of his so important to Lorenzo, especially now, apart from those people?

Because little children have nothing but themselves, and can give nothing but themselves and their love. But Lorenzo knows that he-child was not enough. He was worthless. He was not loved for who he was. But his brothers were loved. They were 'valuable'.

And this belief remained sitting inside him at a very deep level.

And, believing that on his own he is not worth love and never will be, what can he do but think of a way to still get it?

The way out for him is to 'earn' that love.

In fact, though certainly not intentionally, Snuffy's words probably played a role here as well. A deal, salvation in exchange for a football playing.

This only strengthened these beliefs Lorenzo had about himself and about living with a system of people's 'value'.

Snuffy didn't just give him 'money, work and love'. He gave him a way to earn it all. He gave him a way to gain this mythical 'value' that would guarantee his safety - that he would not be abandoned. 

On his own, he didn't deserve to be saved. 

But what did deserve saving was his talent.

The only thing that Lorenzo thought was valuable about him.

Snuffy's whole philosophy with football - a job that you earn your value with and see it in the form of rates and rental prices - actually suits Lorenzo very well. Because he doesn't feel valuable on his own - only in relation to achievements. And so this semi-comedic treatment of others as money is actually a terrible reflection of his same treatment of himself.

The more he's worth (again, the scene with Kaiser and "will I be worth more than you") the safer he feels.

Lorenzo is sure that he will be abandoned as soon as he makes a mistake and loses his 'value'. And the only way to avoid that is to stay 'valuable'.

Yes, rationally he probably knows that Snuffy won't abandon him. That Ubers care about him. That he's no longer the helpless child he once was. That he can defend himself now.

But we have not just rational intelligence, we also have an emotional one. And the latter continues to throw out familiar beliefs about ourselves, formed from childhood and youth, to any trigger, and influence all our thoughts and actions.

And sometimes it is simply not possible to fight it alone.

#I love him so much that it's painful #how I'm supposed to live laugh love without him #character examination #blue lock analysis #bllk analysis #don lorenzo #marc snuffy #bllk #blue lock

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: I'm an ENFP, I'm 30 years old and I’m really needing to work on my self-confidence for me and for dealing with people. I’ve read in our blogs some posts that reinforce the importance of developing skills to have confidence. I think it's very legitimate.

In this process of learning new things, I often find myself in great difficulty and my inner child agonizes with insecurity. I look at friends who have confidence in themselves as something natural: confidence that they will learn, confidence in themselves, but unfortunately I am very unstructured (poor growth environment, without incentives), so I have a lot of difficulty trusting myself: especially being so inexperienced, clumsy and slow to learn everything.

What gets worse is being in environments where people don't have patience with beginners. Like now I'm living in a foreign country where people are very rude in the workplace. This hurts me a lot, because I have problems asserting myself and being respected. I discovered that they need rudeness to respect others. How to deal with this? Would I be able to impose myself without getting nervous and acting rude (as they usually have to do)?

And more, how can we learn from this situation? How can I be truly confident and also how can I simply demonstrate more confidence to make myself respected? I'm tired of conveying weakness. People don't value my sweetness it's not a good tool for me right now. How to develop self-confidence, at least start to demonstrate a little confidence and boundaries! And in the midst of this, the most important thing: how do you deal with such unpleasant people? Especially me being used to being such a sweet, "silly" person, always with my guard down, calm and considered weak by others.

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You seem to be talking about two issues that need unpacking separately: 1) personality, and 2) confidence.

You're having a personality clash with the people at work. Analytical psychology posits that personality clashes are disturbing because they remind you of negative things in yourself you dislike, so there is a need to go within to see what's really happening.

To be clear, I'm not denying that toxic people/environments exist. I believe your description and I would certainly dislike the workplace myself. The point I'm making is, when you have no choice but to be in that sort of environment, there are healthier ways to navigate it, but being judgmental about people is not a healthy way. Judgmentalness is a sign of projection, which is an unhealthy defense mechanism, see previous posts on the topic.

One basic thing type theory teaches us is there are different people in this world. Therefore, one must always begin with acceptance of differences, if one hopes to have healthy relationships in every realm of life. You've come to identify with the so-called "sweet" aspects of your personality. When you identify with one side of yourself, you tend to unconsciously valorize that side, otherwise, you might end up hating yourself. However, in the process of valorizing that side, you inadvertently end up denying, devaluing, dismissing, or denigrating its opposite. It's no accident that these "rude" people trigger you. They bring to light your unconscious self-rejections.

Workplace = professionalism. To succeed in any workplace, it's important to set a clear boundary between private and public. It isn't appropriate to use the workplace to hash out personal issues. E.g. It's not a place to play games about who you favor or dislike. It's not a place to seek validation to soothe your insecurities. I would even argue it's not a great place to seek friendship or companionship. When you bring the personal into the professional, you are more likely to create mess, drama, discord, and conflict. Of course, there are people who live for messiness. Ask yourself exactly what role you want work to play in your life and behave in accordance with those values/principles in every workplace.

When you describe yourself in mostly positive terms ("sweet") and describe other people in very negative terms like "rude", "impatient", or "unpleasant", there is a possibility that you are biased. Typism is a bias. It means you believe some personalities/traits to be superior or inferior to others. ENFPs typically hope to get along well with all sorts of people. If you hope for that, you need to eliminate typist thinking. This requires learning to always approach people in a neutral/professional manner, even when you dislike them at first. You don't know the full story behind people. Oftentimes, the majority of people in toxic environments are just like you, i.e., struggling to survive and doing whatever it takes to keep out of trouble.

When you approach people in a neutral/professional manner, you should adopt an objective perspective about them. Yes, you see their faults, but you shouldn't lose sight of their redeeming qualities. When you're being judgmental, you're likely to dismiss people whole-hog, unable to see their redeeming qualities. Being blind to the positive means you lose opportunities for improving the situation, which means losing hope, which means losing self-confidence as you feel more and more passive and helpless.

How about, instead of using the word "rude", call them "direct" or "candid"? Instead of "impatient", how about "efficient"? When you use more neutral language to characterize people, you reinforce the idea that every personality trait has its pros and cons. When you can finally visualize the upside, you can harness it to your advantage. This allows you to let go of negative feelings and focus on the work itself. Nobody is asking you to marry these people. All you have to do is work with them long enough to get stuff done. Keep your feelings to yourself and stick only to the facts. Once work is done, go home, put it out of your mind, and get on with the rest of your life. If there are things you need to learn to improve your performance in the workplace, spend time on self-improvement outside of work in order to speed up your progress.

.

With regard to confidence, when people bring up "lack of confidence", they often conflate several different concepts including: self-confidence, self-efficacy, self-esteem, and self-worth. It can be a complicated topic, so I'll elaborate on it for future reference. Some non-native English speakers have mentioned to me that their native tongue doesn't have direct translations for these four concepts, so beware that language might be a barrier for understanding them.

These four terms are relatively new in English as well; it wasn't until recently that they've started to filter down from academia into mainstream vocabulary. We know that these four concepts are distinct because, in the course of examining people who fall broadly under the category of "confidence issues", psychologists discovered that different people had somewhat different underlying processes happening, e.g., you could be good with one but struggle with the others. Of course, over time, how people use these terms in everyday language gets fuzzy, as the meaning diverges from the original academic definitions. I'll explain my understanding of them. You specifically mention learning issues, so I'll also connect to that.

I. SELF-CONFIDENCE arises from the degree to which you feel in control. If you 1) have good self-control, 2) feel as though you mostly have control over the direction of your life, and 3) feel as though you have enough control over your environment, then you're likely to feel self-confident. Thus, reflect on whether you feel some deficits in any of the above. There are things you can do to get a firmer sense of control.

Self-control is sometimes related to discipline, which means the ability to delay immediate gratification for a more important future goal. If you tend to be spontaneous, impulsive, or rebellious, then it's easy for you to lose sight of the bigger picture and it's hard for you to follow good learning procedures, which can easily derail your learning process. Some ways to improve your self-control over time:

improve your big-picture thinking so that you don't forget about your ultimate goal (through Ne)

learn the value of following good methods/procedures for achieving a goal (stop resisting Si)

structure your environment more intentionally to eliminate distractions/temptations and reward progress (tap into Te)

Having enough control over the direction of your life often relates to your ability to make good decisions. If you tend to be very emotional, indecisive, or easily overwhelmed by too much information, then it indicates you don't have a good system for processing the information required to inform your decisions. One way to improve your information processing ability is to improve your critical thinking skills. Critical thinking involves parsing information correctly, understanding its meaning, and systematizing information, in service of determining the best course of action (see past posts and recommended books). When learning, not being able to organize information and create feasible plans means slow progress.

Feeling a sense of control over the environment is often related to problem-solving skills. What happens when you meet a problem or challenge? Anxiety? Panic? Anger? Spiraling out of control? To have good problem-solving skills involves: deducing cause and effect, analyzing situations objectively, drawing valid conclusions, and generating good ideas and action-plans. Problem-solving is an important part of the critical thinking skills mentioned above. The process of learning is never completely smooth. You are bound to meet challenges and obstacles, so how do you address them? Self-confident people don't tend to focus on how they feel about problems, rather, they mostly focus on the problem itself and try to solve it as quickly as possible. When the problem is gone, the negative feelings go away.

II. SELF-EFFICACY arises from the degree to which you have faith in yourself, specifically your abilities. Efficacy means being able to bring forth an intended result (effectively) or reach an intended goal (efficiently). When you meet a problem/challenge, do you believe you have enough knowledge and skill to overcome it? If so, you have good self-efficacy. If not, do you believe, with enough dedicated learning and improvement, you can overcome it eventually? That is also good self-efficacy. In essence, it means you believe in yourself, with regard to possessing the resources or being able to obtain the resources necessary to succeed in reaching your goals.

Self-efficacy is sometimes related to competency and mastery. Being young and inexperienced, it's normal to have lower self-efficacy than someone older and wiser. In the learning process, it's important to have compassion for yourself and evaluate your progress fairly. Is the level of competency/mastery you expect from yourself proportional to the reality of your situation? If you haven't had many learning opportunities, through no fault of your own, then you shouldn't feel ashamed for being a bit "behind". This is NOT a personal flaw/failing that deserves punishment.

Note that "ahead" or "behind" are relative terms, meaning they can be understood from different perspectives, so are you using the right perspective? For example, are you evaluating yourself through your own eyes, through the eyes of your rivals, or through the eyes of an expert on the subject matter? Use fair and reasonable benchmarks/standards to measure where you are and where you should be. One reason people of any age suffer self-doubt is because they are too honest about what they don't know or can't do, to the point where they become dismissive of what they do know and can do. It's very important to be objective and balanced when assessing what you lack by also fully recognizing what you already possess or have achieved so far.

In my humble opinion, I believe people already possess everything they need to have good self-efficacy. Human beings evolved to be adaptable and that is largely how they have succeeded as a species. You have the capacity to learn and adapt to your environment. Get back in touch with it, have faith in it, and harness it as necessary. Instead of thinking there's only ONE WAY things should/must go, be more flexible and open to alternatives (use Ne).

III. SELF-ESTEEM refers to how you generally feel about yourself. This is usually related to the kinds of beliefs you have about yourself and the part they play in constructing your self-concept. The beliefs you have about yourself (e.g. about who you are and what you are capable of) are heavily influenced by your past experiences.

One of the most common signs of low self-esteem is negative self-talk. Observe the kinds of things you say to yourself in your head. Is it mostly negative, neutral, or positive? If it's mostly negative, how are you meant to feel good about yourself? People with low self-esteem say very nasty things to themselves that they would never dream of saying to others. Why the double standard? As a "sweet" person, you have empathy for others, so be sure to extend the same empathy to yourself.

An example related to learning: I've unfortunately known too many students to abandon a subject simply because one of their (jerkass) teachers told them they would never be good at it. The negative experience led them to form the belief that "they weren't meant to study it" and couldn't succeed even if they tried. Every time they encountered the subject, the belief would rise up and they'd talk themselves out of trying. Of course, watching themselves fall further and further behind through repeated failures made them feel worse and worse about themselves. Self-esteem can be damaged in a vicious cycle: By believing the worst of yourself, you aren't properly motivated to learn and improve, and then you meet failure after failure, which then confirms your negative beliefs about yourself.

One good way to tackle low self-esteem is cognitive-behavioral therapy. A cognitive-behavioral therapist is trained to bring to light your underlying beliefs (and how they interact with your feelings and behaviors). By bringing unrealistic beliefs into consciousness, you open up space to change them or adjust them to be better aligned with reality. Perhaps you need to reflect on the beliefs you have about yourself, regarding who you are/aren't, who you're supposed/not supposed to be, what you hope/don't hope to be, what you are/aren't capable of, etc. Are your beliefs attuned to your current reality? Negative past experiences don't have to dictate your future, but they will if you're unaware of how they still influence you today.

IV. SELF-WORTH refers to feeling "good enough", specifically whether you believe you are worthy of acceptance and love. When you're young, your sense of self-worth arises in large part from how you were regularly treated by the people around you. If you grew up in an environment where love was conditional, then your self-worth likely became tied to those conditions. For example, if your parents only show you love when you get As in school, it's likely that your self-worth will become tied to your academic performance and future professional success.

Self-worth can also be damaged in a vicious cycle. If you believe you aren't worthy of love, then you signal to others that it's okay to treat you poorly, which reinforces the idea that you aren't worthy. One common way people defend against low self-worth is to make themselves into something "better" or more "worthy" to their social environment, or to obtain something they can offer in exchange for social validation of their worth (e.g. wealth or status). This striving can lead to problems with overachieving, perfectionism, anxiety, depression, self-blame, or self-harm.

One common way to tell if you suffer self-worth issues is if you are often engaged in social comparison that leads you to envy people you deem somehow "superior" to you and/or feel shame about being "inferior" to them. If that's the case, it's likely that you need to correct some faulty thinking patterns:

Don't make illogical comparisons, such as comparing your first step against someone else's thousandth step. These kinds of illogical comparisons exacerbate feelings of unworthiness. You're inflicting pain upon yourself by thinking this way.

Don't be superficial and judge people only by their cover. Remember, you don't really know what someone went through to get where they are today. Perhaps if you knew the full story, their situation wouldn't seem very enviable at all. Maybe you want to play golf as well as Tiger Woods, but would you also want to give up your childhood and constantly suffer harsh treatment as he did?

Don't expect that every person should be the same, know the same things, have the same abilities, live the same life, etc. Respect individuality, which means allow for differences between yourself and others. Understand that everyone has their own path in life rather than believing everyone should conform to the same crude standard (i.e. avoid Te loop).

Do you desperately need everyone to like you or think you're great? Wanting the approval of toxic people is basically granting them power over you. Don't hurt yourself by trying to become something you're not just because someone triggered your insecurity. Insecurity is your problem, not their problem. It is the insecurity itself you need to face up to by reflecting on where it really comes from and what it says about your ability to accept and love yourself as you are (this is related to problems with Fi development in ENFPs).

What many people with low self-worth don't understand is that self-worth starts from within; it doesn't come from the people out there. When you're able to accept and love yourself and stand proud in who you are (without all those "conditions" that were imposed upon you earlier in life), you'll then be capable of teaching others to respect you. With healthy pride in yourself, it's far easier to be assertive, set boundaries, and advocate for your needs. Why? Because you firmly believe you matter, you have a right to the space you inhabit, you have a right to be yourself, and you deserve to be treated as an equal. It's also easier to ignore, dismiss, or eject toxic people when you finally realize that you don't need or want anything from them.

All four of these concepts relate to how you perceive and evaluate yourself, but from different angles. You mention feeling insecure, but which of the above gets closer to the root of the issue? It's important to be more precise about identifying the problem if you hope to come up with the right solution.

#enfp #auxiliary fi #te loop #self confidence #self efficacy #self esteem #self worth #social comparison #envy #judgmental #self compassion #critical thinking #workplace #career #adaptability #typism #ask

[avelera]

Writerly Thought Exercise: How I'd Edit "The Sandman"

The other day I made a post about how I'd love to clean up some flaws in The Sandman story that I believe are owed to Gaiman's relative inexperience when the story was first written, specifically some little tweaks I'd make to the Sandman (TV) story if it were mine. These would not necessarily make the story better, sometimes cleaning up a story is just sanding off the rough edges that make it interesting, but I wanted to take a moment to articulate some structural changes I'd make were it my story (fwiw)

1:

Establish that Dream was unequivocally a good ruler before he was captured, but he was also a control freak. This flaw was forgivable since Dream held himself to the same rigorous standards he held everyone, but it made him inflexible, and gained him enemies like Desire. However, as axiomatic as he was, Dream was an indisputably benevolent ruler who would never harm his own subjects. As it is in the show, this is implied but often contradicted by the actions Dream takes on-screen. Canonically, Dream shows many moments of poor leadership and casual cruelty that undermine the idea that his subjects were loyal to him out of love rather than fear. I personally believe the causal chain of Dream's emotional arc would be stronger if it was clear that he was a good ruler before his imprisonment, but Burgess's torment made him go dark. What this changes: When Dream unmakes Gregory, we get mixed signals about how typical this sort of action was for him. My edit would be to have this moment as completely unprecedented for the Dream his subjects knew. This would better explain why Cain, Abel, and Lucienne are shocked into paralysis by his actions when he kills a beloved member of their community. If Dream's been nothing but a good, generous, but inflexible king before this, then they'd be held back by the fact the Dream they knew would never do something like this if it wasn't absolutely life or death necessary. But here's the thing, after being imprisoned for over 100 years, Dream is deeply traumatized, erratic, and lashing out while trying to keep a veneer of his old self-control. This isn't the Dream they knew. Related story changes: - Nada isn't imprisoned because she rejected him, but because she broke an old law that Dream would have held himself to as well had their positions been reversed. - Dream's humiliation of Lucifer is also out of character for who he used to be. The old Dream would have been wise enough not to toy with such a powerful being. The new Dream is grasping after lost control, not realizing he's acting erratically because of his trauma. He just wants to feel powerful again against someone. He just chooses the worst, most dangerous, self-destructive target for this need to lash out. His subjects are once again caught off guard by this erratic behavior, but begin to realize they might need to intervene before things get worse.

2:

No one magical could see or hear Dream inside of Burgess's prison, including Jessamy and Death herself - what this means is that Dream did call for help, but his cries never escaped his prison. When Jessamy attacked his prison, it's because she was convinced he was in there, but she couldn't see him. Hence why she didn't speak to him when she got there. Death, when she came to collect Jessamy, couldn't see him either nor could he see her. His other subjects have searched Burgess's house and found no trace of Dream. Since Jessamy was with him though when he was captured, she is the last holdout who refuses to believe he was moved from this location. What this changes: Dream is no longer too proud to call for help, but calling for help didn't work. One inherent contradiction in the story as it is canonically is that Dream would call out damage to himself as "hurting the dreamers" and yet not do everything necessary to help the dreamers himself in another scene, when the only apparent thing holding him back is his pride. This makes him a bit of an unforgivable asshole (which can be interesting, I don't think all these changes are guaranteed improvements) and it undermines later claims that he is or ever has been a good ruler. Related story changes: Dream's trauma is deepened. He was truly alone and had no control over his situation, rather than that he could have escaped if he'd just gotten over his pride at asking for help. His story is a survivor's story, this centers that fact for the show. Dream is a person who once thought himself powerful, untouchable, who has to come to grips not only with his trauma but also that he was helpless to prevent his trauma. That something bad happened to him that irrevocably hurt and changed him from the person he was. And when he first gets back to the Dreaming he is unwilling to admit this. The trauma leads him to him unmake Gregory in a desperate bid to regain a scrap of his old identity and control as quickly as possible, even if it means long-term danger to himself (getting the Fates involved) and patience would have been a safer route. His actions are not just implied to be a red flag, but fully signaled as such, in the story, by those who love him saying that this out of character for the ruler they once knew. As it is, Dream's past behavior as an asshole undermines moments that would support this reading. Also: we no longer need to question if Death is a good sister or not, or if Dream's subjects are incompetent. If the summoning circle that was intended to bind Death also keeps even Death from seeing that Dream is captured, Dream's isolation is absolute and we don't have to come up with complicated meta reasons why no one helped him (or if they were just jerks for not doing so, or if he was a jerk for being too proud to ask for help, etc etc).

3:

The Dreaming is tied to Dream's mood, not his presence or absence - When Dream says that Roderick and then Alex Burgess are causing damage to their world, it's not because Dream was kept from his realm. The idea that his absence hurts the Dreaming creates a plothole where we must wonder why then he would ever leave it; unless he's a bad ruler willing to risk the world just so he can go out sometimes. But if capturing and torturing Dream impacts his realm (effectively making him resonate with another mythological figure, the Fisher King) then he's not being petulant when he is furious with them for hurting him. He is furious on behalf of his subjects. It means his subjects can be terrified for him, knowing something awful is happening when they watch the realm crumble around them, knowing it means Dream is suffering, but they are unable to find or help him. Instead of Dream's realm crumbling just because he's not there to do maintenance, it becomes a metaphor for the loss of his self-control, of his old self, under the relentlessness of his torment. Even the strongest of us can break. It also makes the healing metaphor stronger. Dream doesn't just fix up the house like a handyman, he fixes up his realm by finding peace and healing, becoming a better person towards his loved ones.

4:

Nightmares and Dreams are incapable of walking in the real world on their own. Desire released the Corinthian. It was not random chance. (This might be canonical to the comic, I don't remember it's been years since I read it.) This sets up a clear causal chain: Desire released the Corinthian so Dream would go to the real world, where Desire's trap would spring as Burgess cast the ritual and imprisoned Dream. This is all part of Desire's plan for revenge. Dream, being inflexible, often thwarts Desire, and finally, Desire had enough. (Heck, perhaps it was Dream's imprisonment of Nada that set all of this off in the first place, then at least the punishment would fit the crime.) What this changes: Lucienne's "presentament" that something bad could happen to Dream if he leaves his realm is no longer random clunky foreshadowing, but very well informed. If Nightmares like the Corinthian can't leave, then something feels deeply wrong if one does escape. Her instincts are correct: this is a trap. However, Dream can't delegate recapturing the Corinthian, because as their creator and because he is a good ruler, he wouldn't entrust this task to anyone else, because it would be dangerous to them but not to him. He too can suspect something suspicious is going on, but as a control freak feel he is the only one capable of handling the situation. Then, when he is captured, the tension would skyrocket because it was a trap and it becomes clear that all of these events were put into place by an unseen, powerful puppet master. No one, including Dream or Lucienne, would be laboring under the impression that this is all random chance. They'd be anxious to figure out where the vendetta is coming from starting from the beginning of the story. Other changes: Desire is the one who tells Burgess how to lock up Dream, not the Corinthian. This cleans up the causal chain and gives the audience an early glimpse of who is really pulling the strings. Desire also makes more sense as the being that would know how and where to find Burgess: He is ruled by his desire to resurrect his son Randall. That would make him a beacon to someone like Desire.

Basically, I find the idea of Dream's arc being around trauma and healing to be one of the most resonating aspects of the story. I'd want to bring that into sharper focus by giving Dream more of an arc, and the above tweaks are where I'd begin.

#maggie rambles #the sandman #sandman meta #writer thought exercise

[badcaseofcasey]

one single thread of gold (tied me to you) | Part 3 aka: my Steddie soulmates au, Eddie's POV Part 1 | Part 2 | Steve's POV

guess who's baaaaack? Sorry for the long wait between parts, but here's part three of Eddie's POV! I'm back to working on this fic primarily, so will hopefully have the next part sooner rather than later! As always, let me know if you'd like to be added or taken off of the taglist!

As Eddie settled into life in Hawkins, he quickly realized that the universe must be playing a practical joke; there was no way in hell that Steve Harrington was his soulmate.

His assumptions that first day at Hawkins High had proven correct: Steve was popular, painfully mainstream, and had zero time or attention for anyone outside of his circle of influence. In some ways, being so utterly ignored by his soulmate hurt worse than if he’d been outright rejected. It was a reminder every day that Eddie wasn’t even significant enough in his soulmate’s life to merit rejection.

Eddie had learned how to use his outcast status to his advantage well before he’d moved to Hawkins - how to wear the mantle of “freak” like armor. He found the other outcasts and was able to use his reputation (and the fact that he supplied weed to most of the popular kids) to protect them, too.

He carved out a section of Hawkins that was his own and made just enough space there for the people he cared about. Over time, he slowly brought more and more lost sheep into the fold, founding Hellfire Club and Corroded Coffin with people he could legitimately call his best friends. It wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as someone like Eddie could ever hope to get.

Corroded Coffin’s practices were often one of Eddie’s favorite parts of his new life in Hawkins. Gareth had started at Hawkins High Eddie’s Junior year, but he saw Eddie’s Dio patch on his first day of school and was ballsy enough to approach the older teen to ask if he played any instruments. Since then, they’d added Jeff, and Freak (who was actually also named Geoff, but happily went by Freak to avoid any confusion). They were sounding more and more like an actual band these days, and they had a standing gig at the Hideout to prove it.

Of course, sometimes the peace of shredding through whatever insane guitar solo Eddie had learned or come up with that week was shattered by one of the other guys bringing high school into the mix.

“Are you guys thinking of going to the party this weekend?” Gareth asked.

“What party?” Jeff responded. “I haven’t heard of one yet.”

“Harrington’s parents are out of town again,” Gareth said. “He’s hosting; I heard Carol Perkins talking about it during Bio.”

“Probably not,” Jeff said. “My mom’s been on my ass about homework lately - she like, actually wants me to get into college, especially since my brother got denied from everywhere except Ivy Tech.”

The rest of the band nodded sympathetically. Even Eddie had Wayne on his ass to apply to college - as if they both didn’t know he’d be repeating senior year. He had way too many absences and D’s on his transcript for them to give him a diploma this time around.

“What about you, Eddie? Are you going to be there selling?” Gareth asked. “I hear Harrington’s crowd has enough money to throw around.”

Eddie strummed loudly and let the feedback echo through the garage. “I would love it if I didn't have to hear Steve Harrington’s name during band rehearsal for once.”

Gareth looked acceptably cowed by Eddie’s response, but was clearly not going to be deterred. “Come on, guys. You’ll be graduating soon and I’m going to be stuck at Hawkin’s High with Freak and zero street cred.”

“You don’t get street cred by going to parties like that,” Eddie argued.

“Okay, maybe not - but what about girls?” Gareth challenged. “You know all the girls show up hoping to hook up with Steve and when they are inevitably disappointed, they’ll be looking for a shoulder to cry on. I could be that shoulder!”

“Don’t you ever wonder if the King Steve thing is all an act?” Freak piped up. “You hear about all these girls, but do you ever really see him dating anyone? For all we know,  he and Hagan could be hooking up behind closed doors. The way they act around each other, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were the ones who were soulmates, not Tommy and Carol.”

Eddie whirled around to glare at Freak. “What are you even saying right now?”

“I’m just saying that all that bravado is there for a reason,” he said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he was trying to cover up something.”

To this day, Eddie isn’t sure what made him do it. Maybe all the talk about Steve’s words and his sex life had gone straight to his head and stopped him from thinking straight. Maybe he’d been waiting for an excuse to do it and it seemed like as good a time as any. Or maybe, Eddie desperately needed a distraction to a different topic.

Whatever it was that made him do it, Eddie found himself saying, “Would it be so disgusting if he did get his words from a guy? Pretty ironic to be a homophobe as a guy named Freak, huh?” His tone of voice made it absolutely clear which side Eddie found himself on.

“Woah,” Freak said, holding up his hands defensively. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Really?” Eddie said. “What did you mean it like? The only reason it’d be big news if Harrington was a queer is if you have some sort of problem with it.”

“C’mon, Eddie,” Jeff said, always the peacemaker, “you know it’d be a big deal if the ladies man of Hawkins High was actually into dudes. Freak didn’t mean it like that.”

Eddie took a deep breath and blew it out forcefully. “Sorry. I got defensive.”

“No worries, man,” Freak said. “But you know I don’t have problems with people like that. Us freaks have to stick together.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh and accepted Freak’s handshake as everyone went back to their instruments. Luckily, his little outburst seemed to at least have gotten them off the topic of Steve Harrington. They messed around with a few cover songs and even got an original song or two started before Jeff had to leave to go work on homework.

As Eddie was packing up, Gareth came over, trying to come across as nonchalant but missing it by a mile.

“You know, we’d all be cool with it if… if you got your words from a guy,” Gareth said quietly.

Eddie snapped his guitar case shut and turned to look at Gareth. “Yeah, man. I know. Thanks for saying it, though.”

“Imagine if Steve Harrington was the person you got your words from though,” Gareth said. “That would be hilarious.”

Eddie just huffed out a laugh, trying not to give anything away.

Unfortunately, Gareth knew him too well.

“That would be hilarious, right?” Gareth asked, skeptical.

Eddie looked at him and raised his eyebrows, mouth stretched into a grimace.

“Oh no,” Gareth said. “No way, man.”

“Trust me, I’m just as disappointed as you are.”

“No, I mean - I’m gonna have to put up with you falling for Steve Harrington one of these days - if it hasn’t happened already - oh god, tell me it hasn’t happened already.”

“As if,” Eddie said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh good, I still have time,” Gareth said, theatrically relieved. “I need to enjoy my Harrington-free life while I’ve still got it.”

“Fuck you,” Eddie said fondly, shoving Gareth just hard enough for him to lose his balance.

As they walked out to the car, still laughing at each other’s ridiculous behavior, Eddie couldn't help but feel a little lighter. He might not have the same faith as Gareth that he and Steve would ever end up together, but it was nice to know he’d always have friends like this by his side.

taglist: @awkwardgravity1 @infinitetrashbag @vampireinthesun @swimmingbirdrunningrock @maya-custodios-dionach @thev01dd @obsessivlyme @a-little-unsteddie @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @spectrum-spectre @red-panderz69 @magpiemuseum @minjintea @finalmoondragonn @thatonebadideapanda @estrellami-1 @freyaforestafay @biatcgh @sadcanadianwinter @im-sam-fucking-winchester @bidisastersworld @justanothergirlwithobsessions @anaibis @thing-a-ling @rosered93 @newtstabber @void-o-chaos @thegingerrapunzel @baron-zemo-trash @katireads @child-of-cthulhu @the-s-is-silent @i-must-potato @hellomynameismoo @lovelylilbadone @theotalksalot @lydi-cyan @background-noise-headache @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @slitherynchiken @grapefruitgalaxy @bookbinderbitch @luthienstormblessed @blues-tunes @murdblurdock @grtwdsmwhr @xpaperheartso @anaibis @thedyingwriter

#my fic #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie #soulmate au #met as kids au #Stranger Things #steddie soulmate au

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #36

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[AO3] [wattpad]

*I'm not sure if I'm sorry for the sudden jump to comedy. I think we could all use a break before getting back into it *CW1- self harm ideation *CW2- more romantic trauma explained ~POV Sharrkan~ When Sinbad had left those lovely ladies alone, Sharrkan took up the post. He ended up drinking himself stupid trying to impress them and now his head was throbbing. He fell asleep with his head in his arms on the table. It was the sounds of voices that woke him up.

King Sinbad's voice ended up being the last straw forcing Sharrkan awake. He was using a tone Shar had never heard from him before. "And after finally leaving him, she promised herself she would never be with anyone again." What the hell was he talking about? Sindria's best swordsman slowly rolled his head up. It was probably for the best that he woke up since he still had to head back to the Palace. Sinbad was carrying Mori for some reason. "She told me when I tried to tell her I..." Sinbad didn't finish his sentence. After a moment he scoffed at himself.

Ja'far beat everyone to asking for clarification. "Hold a second Sin... Did you accept you have feelings for Mori because of what happened earlier?" The King nodded. "And they rejected you again?"

Sinbad hesitated before nodding again.

That fully woke Shar up. 'Nononono!!' That would mean he was the biggest loser of the bet. "There's no way!" Sharrkan was standing before he was aware of what he was doing, and he wasn't one to back down. "Do you know who our King is???" Why had Shar spent most of his life emulating and practicing how Sinbad flirts with women if his methods would fail the one time it really matters????

All heads turned to Sharrkan and he had the distinctive feeling that he shouldn't have said that.

Mori's mumbles cut through the silence following his question. "Why (are) you yelling?" Their voice was much clearer with the next question. "Who did what now?"

The King, Ja'far, Drakon, and Sahel froze. Shar was already in trouble so it didn't matter if he got into a little more. "You rejected King Sinbad!" All the eye daggers pointed at him weren't a good sign, but he didn't care. If Sinbad was actually in love with Mori, and they rejected him, then was that why Yam seemed to hate Sharrkan more every day?? Was being a womanizer bad actually???

Mori's answer only made things worse. "Yeah. Which time? I've been rejecting him since Balbadd." They tapped Sinbad's chest a few times. "Put me down, please." As soon as he complied, Mori's legs buckled under them. "Ah!" They wrapped both of their arms around the King to keep from falling, and he caught them at the same time. Sin's expression only supported the others' bets more. Mori apologized to their source of support. "Sorry. That was a bad idea. My hips still feel like they want to fall off."

Mori's hips hurt..? All of the Generals and Sahel looked between Mori and their King who was helping her to the nearest seat. The way Sinbad kept an arm around her and sat with her made everyone want to tell the couple to get a room... but they might have already gotten one from the sounds of it. Shar had to know for sure. "Hold on, did you not reject him this time?" Do Sinbad's techniques work or not?

Mori took the longest to figure out what he had just asked, and their face turned bright red when they did. "IT'S NOT LIKE THAT! WE DIDN'T- DID PISTI NOT TELL YOU GUYS THAT I WAS DANCING???" Their voice cracked a bunch. After a sharp inhale, they rambled an explanation of hurting themself while dancing.

"Oh." Came from everyone except Sinbad.

Ja'far recovered from the whiplash faster than the rest. "I'll go have a cot setup for you, and I'm sure at least one of the medical magicians hasn't gone to bed yet."

Mori looked away from everyone. "I want to get back to my room as soon as possible."

Ja'far left to see what was available at the medical tent.

While they waited, Shar walked over to Drakon and Sahel. He spoke quietly enough to keep things in their circle. "So... Why is he so upset if they've been rejecting him the whole time?" When hadn't Yam rejected Sharrkan? You didn't see him cry to the others about it! ((Yeah, only to Masrur))

Drakon sighed and shared a look with his wife. This only made Shar more curious, but it was obvious he wasn't supposed to ask again right now. He just crossed his arms and turned to watch his King. --- ~POV Sinbad~ When Sinbad helped Mori to the bench, he kept an arm around them to stabilize them, but also so he could keep touching them a little longer. Mori kept their arms around him for support while walking, and even after sitting down they didn't fully let go, so neither did he. When Ja'far made his suggestions, Sinbad could feel Mori's back tensing even though it didn't show on their face or in their voice. He would have to ask about it when he had a chance.

Barely a minute after Ja'far went to get a medic, Mori spoke quietly. "I'm sorry... for burdening you."

Sin responded just as quietly. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"But I made you carry me all the way here."

"I wanted to carry you, and I'd gladly do it again."

Mori tightened their grip on his clothes. "But I snapped and trauma dumped on you without your permission." He hadn't heard that phrase before, but he understood from context.

He sighed. Was this guilt an aftereffect of their outburst? "Mori. You know parts of my past I've never told anyone. You accepted me and chose to help me anyway. I can't do the same for you if you never tell me anything."

Sinbad couldn't see their face past their bangs with their head down, but he could feel and see them trembling again. They covered their face with one hand as they nodded to respond. He lightly squeezed them against himself with the arm he had around them. That was all the encouragement Mori needed to lean their head against him. Tension slowly released from his shoulders. However upset Mori was with him, they were still willing to find comfort in him. Earlier they had even agreed in wanting him to become someone they could trust. Mori still liked him. Sinbad hadn't lost yet.

Ja'far returned with a very tired medical magician and painkillers. The healing magic would promote faster healing, and the medicine would lessen the immediate pain over the next few hours. After the magician left, Ja'far repeated his offer from earlier. "Are you sure you don't want to rest here?" It was worth a shot.

Instead of answering Ja'far, Mori looked up at Sinbad with an expression that made his heart race. It was one part longing, one part desperation, one part hopeful, and 100% adorable. "Did you mean what you said before?" They were quiet so the others couldn't hear, but that wasn't why Sinbad was caught off guard. Fate was on his side in a way he couldn't have anticipated. When he didn't answer right away Mori clarified, "...That you'd carry me again?" They looked at the steps leading up to the Palace. "I won't be in any condition to climb those stairs on my own for a while, and I really want to go home, so..."

'Yes! Absolutely!' Mori called his Palace 'home!' Sinbad had to calm himself and get his expression under control while she wasn't looking. There were multiple options to get her to her room asap, and she still chose him. He didn't know why Mori wanted to be in his arms again after what happened and he was not going to jinx it by looking overly enthusiastic. He kept his expression and tone as nonchalant and gentle as possible, "Of course. I never make a promise I can't keep."

--- ~POV Ja'far~ The General wasn't sure what Mori said to Sin, but the expression on the King's face said it was a good thing. And then that King scooped her up into his arms again and stood in one smooth motion. Mori had an arm around him for support this time.

"Hold on, Sin!" Ja'far took a few steps forward and repeated his question from earlier. "You're not still thinking of carrying Mori up to the Palace, are you?" Sin looked at the stairs, but didn't say anything, so Ja'far turned his attention to the Prophet. "Mori, I know you're injured but isn't this a bit excessive?? You were worried about the rumors too, weren't you?" This was going to make so many headaches for him later -especially with how Sin reacted to the rumors- Wait! That wasn't a problem anymore!!! But there were still reasons Sinbad shouldn't carry anyone up several flights of stairs.

Mori stared at Ja'far for a moment, and then let their head loll against Sinbad's. "He said it's okay."

'Damnit! There's 2 of them.'

Sinbad's smile was distinctively bigger as he looked at the person in his arms. "It is a long way up on foot." Nonono! Ja'far knew that expression. Sinbad was going summon a Dji- "Spirit of Dominance and Submission..." The silver bangle on the dungeon capturer's right wrist glowed as he spoke the incantation, and summoned "Focalor" 's Fullbody Djinn Equip.

Mori was just as surprised as the rest of them, but she was absolutely not of the same mind. "You're a genius."

'Damnit! There's 2 of them!'

Their overconfident King laughed until Mori talked over him. "This is easily one of your most comfortable Djinn Equips."

"Huh?"

Mori continued proudly. "It's really uncomfortable to have your metal vessels pressed into me for an extended time. And most of your Djinn Equips are just as covered in metal. But Focalor," they pulled at the gold rings on Sin's chest, "has thin jewelry that doesn't cover as much. 2 birds, 1 stone." ((Heeheehee "bird"))

"Ah. I didn't realize," was Sinbad's first response. "I'll remember that for next time," was the second. And there was no way something like this wasn't going to happen again when they were both idiots that wanted the same thing!

The idiot couple flew off to the Palace before the group could say anything. They were definitely going to have to ask Sinbad for more details in the future because they were absolutely missing something.

--- ~POV Sinbad~ The guards were understandably shocked to see their King descending into the court yard in a Djinn Equip. Sinbad dropped the Equip as soon as he landed to not worry everyone, even if it would be a bit uncomfortable for the person in his arms. As he started walking towards the guest tower, he also started looking for reasons to stall. "You know, Mori, you really surprised me when you asked me to carry you again."

She made a sound of recognition, but didn't say anything. He could see Mori watching his face with his peripheral vision. Sin walked halfway across the court yard in silence. If she didn't want to say anything, he wouldn't push- "It was the safest and fastest way I could think of."

"'Safest?'"

The waves swirled around them like before. Her voice was a sober melancholy. "I'm still not in a good head space, so my brain is expecting specific types of violence even though I know better."

Sinbad stopped walking and looked Mori in the eyes. "Do you think I'm going to hurt you?" He may have hurt her heart on accident earlier, but there was no way she thought he'd hurt her physically, right?

It was dark, but he could make out their expression. It was as melancholic as their voice. "You go out of your way to avoid using violence as much as possible so I felt safe asking you." That was a relief.

It didn't leave many options though. "Then, was it my Generals?"

Mori looked away and he knew he was on the right track. She sighed and continued in the same monotone. "Ja'far is someone that does not hesitate to use violence when he thinks someone is a threat to you." Sinbad had hoped that the friction between the two was a thing of the past. Mori continued, "He threatened Cassim in Balbadd for projecting his experience with nobility onto you. Ja'far might have killed him if you hadn't stopped him." That wasn't long before Mori entered the world. Somehow it still surprised him when he learned more of her visions. "I know things you have done and will do that Ja'far would never believe of you. He has plenty of reasons to hurt me if I say them even if he wouldn't threaten me into it."

Sin could understand where that fear came from. Ja'far becomes aggressive and violent if someone is even just defaming King Sinbad. If Sinbad isn't there to confirm Mori's visions about his secrets, the General would never believe them. "Ja'far will never force you to talk about your visions." Sinbad would make sure of it. "You never have to talk about them with him when I'm not around either."

((CW1)) Mori shook her head. "When I'm like this, 'punishment' feels inescapable. I'd rather provoke the person and get the punishment out of the way because the fear of what and when it will happen is much stronger than any pain will be when it's over. And if I can control when it happens, I can influence how bad it will be." That made his breath catch. Just what had Mori gone through to think like that? "It's why I..." Mori hesitated, "ended up telling him about you dying in five years. But nothing happened. Instead, he said he'd never pressure me again, but the fear is still there." Her hands had gone colder than normal. "I know this isn't how I should be, so I normally look for any option that will removed the risk of me doing that." The matter-of-fact way she was talking made what she was saying more unnerving.

Sinbad confirmed, "In this case, asking me to carry you back was that option?" She nodded and her grip on his shoulder tightened. As happy as it made him to know she thought of him when she was in need, it wasn't a good sign that she felt that way about one of his Generals. "Mori, no one in Sindria will ever be able to hurt you. I will protect you. I promise." He already had ideas on how to fix this, but now wasn't the time.

Her eyes softened and a chuckle escaped her. "I knew you'd say something like that." Mori looked him in the eyes again; a smile was pushing past their melancholy. "I know you make promises to people you want on your side, and I've seen in my visions how you show kindness to anyone in front of you that needs it. You even feel empathy for your enemies." They knew he was on their side and that he would help them if they asked. "Even before I met you I was drawn to that kindness you give to everyone equally."

The waves were rising again with his relief. Sinbad didn't bother to control his expression. This smile was an earnest one. "How does it feel to be on the receiving end?" He was more than willing to show them this side of him any time they needed.

Mori turned away and clenched her eyes shut. Even with just the moon light he could see their face getting a little red. "It's making me greedy!"

'Greedy?' Earlier that night Mori called herself greedy when she said she wanted him all to herself. His kindness made her greedy for him? Even after what he did earlier? Maybe the apology had worked after all. "I think you could use to be more greedy." This was a much better mood than the previous one.

Mori whipped her face back towards him. "Says the man so greedy that the Djinn had to cut him off!" As grumpy as she looked, she wasn't actually upset with him. He was proven correct when she added, "Why don't you give me some of your greed if you think I'm lacking so much?"

Sinbad laughed. This was perfect. "If I give you my greed, what will you give me in return?"

"Ugh~"

He laughed again.

After a moment of watching him, Mori took the bait. "What would you even want in return anyway?" She was definitely feeling better if she was playing along with this. This could also be a sign that she was willing to continue flirting with him.

"I want your name." He wanted it attached to his own in a way that would tell everyone they were his alone. Mori would get upset if he said what he wanted directly, so this was the best he could do for now. It wasn't like he could actually give her his greed, so why not request something she couldn't give either?

"Oh." Mori was understandably confused; he already knew their nam- "It's Morgan. I never liked how the 'g' sounds in it, so I prefer to be called by my nickname." They continued in a half grumble, "And most characters named 'Morgan' in the stories back home are antagonists and I didn't want to be seen as a bad person."

Somewhere along the way he forgot that 'Mori' was just a nickname. "Oh." And now he was the only person in this world that knew more than just that nickname.

Mori hummed at his expression and then smirked. "Did you forget I only told you my nickname before?"

"It seems I did." Sinbad had a feeling it would be hard to win against his Beautiful Prophet now that he knew what this feeling was.

The mischievous smile she was showing made him want to give her the world. "In that case, what should I ask for as compensation?" Mori was already putting that boost of greed to good use. "Oh! I know. Since you can't tell the difference between a name and a nickname, let me call you by yours without your title." Her face got more red and her voice more unsure as she said it.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn't remember Mori ever calling him without a title. She'd said his name plainly a few times when talking about him, but never to him. "Of course." It wasn't something he thought needed explicit permission; he was learning just how much Mori requires that to take action.

"Thank you, Sin." Mori had to immediately look away after saying it.

This must be what people mean when they say love turns people into fools. Sin needed to bring Mori to their room before he did something that would definitely make them angry again. Besides, he had to talk to Ja'far asap about Mori's fears of him if they were going to get past this.

--- ~POV Mori~ I was finally alone. My head was swimming from everything that happened as well as the waves. Fate had changed in a major way. Last time was because Sinbad chose a new path. I had a feeling I knew what happened this time, but I was not emotionally capable of accepting that yet.

I really had a PTSD attack, passed out, and when I woke up immediately went into attach and fawn towards the very person that had triggered me. When I told Sin that I was scared of what I might do around Ja'far I wasn't lying, but I also couldn't bring myself to admit to fawning over and attaching to Sin for safety as another repeat stress response.

Damnit. This didn't make any sense. After I broke up with my ex fiancé I had issues because of what happened but I didn't get PTSD from it. This level of reaction seemed to be from something else and only colored by the fear of projecting my ex fiancé on to a partner as I tried to rationalize it.

I got changed and looked out my windows in time to watch Sinbad cross the court yard to the Purple Leo Tower. Watching him only made the ghost of his touch more prominent. Wanting to be held by the person I like shouldn't be confusing. I was the one who asked to be returned to my room so I could be alone and safe enough to think; and yet it was a struggle not to cling to him harder.

((CW2 until end)) I definitely liked Sinbad. The last time I was able to bounce back after being triggered by thinking someone had romantic interest in me was when it was someone I was already crushing on. When I finally recognized that I kept having a PTSD response, and realized that we wouldn't be compatible long term (I can't do long distance), I ended up ghosting the person because I couldn't handle my own feelings and didn't want to hurt him by projecting my ex onto him. The thing that had protected me all this time was knowing that in the canon, Sinbad never falls in love or gets married. As soon as I realized that could change I panicked.

My blood ran cold. That memory of the last time this happened was from 2022. How could I have memories of home from after I entered this world in 2020? I did periodically gain knowledge that I didn't already have. My heart hurt all over again.

The memories of what caused this new trigger finally flooded my mind. Around the start of 2021 I was assaulted by someone I thought was my friend when he finally accepted that I wasn't going to take back my rejection no matter how much time I spent with him. He had a complete breakdown while he pinned me down and admitted to manipulating my family to have access to me. By the end of that year another person I thought was a friend also had a breakdown after spending months refusing to accept that the 'no' I gave her was real. Then in 2022 I realized that someone confessing to me had became a full trigger when I had PTSD attacks to two more people even though they were able to accept 'no.' It had became a compound trauma. ((This is why I went on longer breaks a few times btw))

Time kept moving for the writer/god of this world. They were still experiencing painful things and affecting me along with them. This sucks.

Sinbad's form disappeared into his tower. I felt sick to my stomach. My attraction wasn't going anywhere, and now it looked like he might actually like me back. I have an obligation to stay in Sindria; I can't run away this time. My heart was a broken vase that could no longer hold onto the feelings being poured into it. Any time the vase started to be repaired, I broke it again myself before anyone else could beat me to it just like I did earlier. I'm not one to repeat the same mistake many times once I know where it's coming from. But was Sinbad worth it? He said he wanted to choose a new path. Depending on where this new path went, he would be. And even if he wasn't worth it, I am worthy of healing for myself.

((Hi everyone. The thing about processing trauma is that it can take a long time. Writing this is definitely helping me, but it also means that the posing rate is based on my recovery. I thought I had this chapter done and just needed to do the art when I finished the previous chapter, but in working on the art for it, and working on writing the next arc I realized it was missing something: Mori's/my perspective which is the side where I actually process things. I have many chapters worth of content written for the next arc but there was something wrong with it, and I realized I was avoiding writing my perspective more often and when I did write it I was just filling my time with so much that I didn't have to think about the hard stuff -it's a bad habit that I know I have and am working on.

Even after figuring out what was missing and writing the last scene, I struggled with drawing the harder parts of the chapter. I talked to Lyly about it, and they made me feel better about not having more art throughout.

Anyway, I have no idea how long it will take me to get the next arc done enough that I can start posting. Processing stuff is hard but important and necessary for growth. In the meantime I will be responding to Simpbad Collection Asks, and posting more stuff there including a scene that I couldn't manage to fit before the Sindria Arc, and concept & outfit art. I'll also be going back and rereading what I've posted so far, and fixing any more spelling and grammar mistakes I find. It's been a while since I last did that.

Thank you all for being so patient with me. ))

#magi prophet fanfic #king sinbad #sinbad magi #sinbad x oc #magi sinbad #magi fanfiction #sinbadxoc #magi fanart #living with trauma

[navnae]

Steddie Soulmate Au Part 5

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4

Prompt: a clock counts down until you meet your soulmate

Prompt from @phantypurple !!! ❤️

Additional tags: @mightbeasleep @lifealwayslearning @rhaenyyras @im-sam-fucking-winchester @gregre369 @fruitandbubbles @beckkthewreck @cherixxx69 @iwouldsail

Read on AO3

-

Steve had no idea what he’d just agreed to and the way Eddie started smiling at him made situation ten times worse, he couldn’t back out of it now. He knew that he could’ve told Eddie that he was mistaken and Robin’s clock stopped months ago but his mind was working overtime and he never got the chance to say any of it. Steve trying to match Eddie’s excitement felt like torture and when he put his hand in Steve’s shoulder he couldn’t stop himself from shivering slightly at the sudden feeling of physical contact. Steve caught himself when his frown started to fade away the more he thought about Eddie falling for Robin, once he realized that Eddie was watching him he managed to put back on the wide smile he had on his face previously hoping that Eddie would believe it. Steve felt his heart stop when Eddie started to look over to where Robin was and he just stared at her like she was the most beautiful thing on this planet, you could see his eyes twinkling as he took in her beauty. It really was a sight for sores eyes especially when Steve had to watch his soulmate basically drool at the sight of his best friend. He didn’t know what he was feeling but this hurts, it hurts really badly. He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms before clearing his throat obnoxiously loud to snap Eddie out of his trance. When Eddie finally looked at him again he felt a little bit better.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer, Munson.” Steve said without even trying to hide his attitude. He didn’t even know why he was so pissed but he purposefully wanted to put an end to Eddie’s little show and pull him back into reality. Eddie raised a brow, picking up on the now hostile attitude that Steve was giving off. Steve kept a lot of comments to himself and he was on the verge of letting them out if Eddie continued stare like an idiot.

“My bad it’s just… she’s breathtaking. I kind of feel stupid for not realizing that.” Eddie admitted. Steve wanted to laugh, he poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue to prevent any snarky comments from being said but he failed within a second.

“I think stupid would be putting it lightly.” Steve mumbled under his breath. He genuinely didn’t mean for Eddie to hear and when he snapped his head to look at Steve it was kind of shocking. He could feel his face getting red and he couldn’t control his facial expression’s. Steve wanted to scream, either at Eddie or the stupid fucking universe that thought this was a good idea.

“What did you say?” Eddie asked with a little bass in his voice. Steve didn’t even react to Eddie getting upset. He was so focused on his own thoughts and feelings that if Eddie were to take him out right now he would let him, fighting back would be so tiring.

“Nothing.“ Steve said waving his hand to dismiss the topic. Steve didn’t even feel like continuing on with this conversation with Eddie and honestly a small part of him wanted to back out just so Eddie could go in blindly then Robin would reject him. The idea of Eddie getting all embarrassed made Steve extremely happy, he would finally be able to move on with his life with the magnificent blonde babe he’s been driving of while Eddie sits alone thinking about who his soulmate could’ve been.

Steve liked that idea way more.

All of those thoughts that Steve had were interrupted by the sound of police sirens and all of them looked towards the window at the back of the boathouse. All of them ran to the window to see what was happening and Eddie ran in a different direction to hide in the boat he was just in. They looked through the glass in hopes that none of those sirens were coming near the boathouse or else all of them would be done for. A huge weight was lifted off their shoulders once the sirens died down slowly meant that they were going to a different location. As much as Steve couldn’t stand this whole situation with Eddie he didn’t actually want anything bad to happen to him which confused him even more, one minute he wanted to curse him out without any remorse and now he wanted to protect? Everything seemed stupid to Steve, every little thing.

“We should probably check that out.” Dustin said as he pointed towards the window, referring to the passing police cars. Everyone nodded their head except for Steve.

“And leave him here alone again?” Steve mentally facepalmed as the words left his mouth and he didn’t realize how worried he sounded. All three of them smirked at each other while Steve blushed which he desperately tried to hide but failed.

“Technically he doesn’t have to be. You can stay here with him if you want.” Robin teased before winking at him and that made him even more mad.

“I am not staying here with him!” Steve blurted out and crossing his arms while looking away. His face was on fire at this point, all of them looked at him like he was going insane.

“No one’s forcing you to stay here with him, geez. Calm down.” Max put her hands up as if she was surrounding. Steve’s never felt this embarrassed in his entire life. He wanted to drop this entire conversation.

“Guys we have to focus. Let’s see what’s going on before it’s too late.” Dustin said waving his arms quickly. Steve wished he could’ve thanked Dustin for changing the subject. Sadly, the subject was way worse then a soulmate problem.

All of them ran over to the boat that Eddie was hiding in and removed the tarp the he must’ve thrown over himself once he heard the sirens. Steve noticed his body relaxed as his eyes focused on all of their faces and was relieved that it was just them. When Eddie wasn’t running his mouth Steve could take a step back and get a good look at him, nothing about Eddie’s appearance was bad. In this light his big brown eyes stood out especially when he’s a little bit scared. In some ways it was kind of cute, Steve wasn’t interested but he could see how someone could be.

“Eddie, we’re going to leave for a little bit but we’ll come back here soon okay?” Dustin said in a hurry. Steve watched Eddie wander off in thought for a second before nodding his head. He wondered what could be going on in his head at a time like this, Steve knew it couldn’t have been good considering that everyone in Hawkins were out to get him.

“Make sure to keep these with you just in case.” Max chimed in quickly as she ran to the other side of the boathouse then running back to place the snacks that they got for him in the little space between him and the boat. He laughed softly before holding the snacks close to him. Steve’s heart skipped as he heard Eddie’s laugh, he heard it in the car earlier but hearing it in person was very different. His voice was disgustingly smooth in Steve’s opinion.

He thanked max for the snacks before turning his attention to Robin. She smiled at him out of being kind and he smiled back at her with pure love in his eyes. Steve let out a sigh which no one heard because Robin was talking to Eddie and reassuring him that they were coming back. Steve thought he was imagining things when Robin put her hand on top of Eddie’s before squeezing it. He turned away to save himself from throwing up at the sight of Eddie having that same look on his face that pissed him off earlier. Steve heard Eddie say Robin’s name and he sounded desperate to tell her whatever was on his mind, before that could happen the group heard more sirens coming from outside. Everyone was starting to run towards the door but Steve was stopped in is tracks by a hand grabbing his wrist tightly.

“Steve!” Eddie called out for him as he pulled him closer. Steve didn’t expect their faces to become that close in a short amount of time. He could feel Eddie’s breath tickle his nose when he leaned forward and the blush on his face was spreading like wild fire. Steve held his breath trying to calm himself down from the moment being so intense.

“Y-yeah?” Steve asked in a tone that he wished wasn’t panicky. When Eddie started to lean in close making the gap between them smaller Steve couldn’t help but swallow thickly. Eddie swerved his head to the side to get closer to Steve’s ear. Steve was more than relieved, maybe now Eddie would tell him something meaningful or maybe he finally caught on to that he was wrong this entire time.

“Make sure that Robin stays safe okay? I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

Nope. Nothing changed.

Steve leaned back to look at Eddie and his face told him everything. He wasn’t pleased with anything he just heard but he tried to understand Eddie’s point of view. To him, Robin was the only person that Eddie saw as a soulmate because the idea of it being Steve would probably make him sick. From now on Steve had to get it through his head that Eddie didn’t like him as a friend or anything that was more than that, he couldn’t really blame him because Steve wasn’t to thrilled about it either. He opened his mouth to tell Eddie something but he figured it was best to keep those comments to himself since they weren’t important. If anything Steve was going to play into Eddie’s fantasy even if it wasn’t true.

“Okay. I will.” Steve said softly and giving him somewhat of a smile. Guilt started to weigh heavy on Steve when he saw how happy Eddie was to hear him make that promise. Obviously Steve was going make sure Robin was going to be safe but with Eddie in the back of his mind added an extra layer of unwanted emotions that he didn’t have the time for.

Without another word Steve gave Eddie a nod before he ran outside to meet with the others. When Steve made it outside he was greeted with nothing but wide smiles and eyebrows repeatedly being raised to insinuate that something happened inside the boat house. Steve waved all three of them off because the last thing he wanted was to talk about Eddie once again. As they made their way to the car Steve couldn’t get over the quick glances that he was getting and little giggles from the others, what he hated more was how he blushed even though he knew that nothing happened between the two still the idea made him feel things. If felt like forever before one of them cracked and said something.

“So… you two dating or what?” Max asked casually. Steve almost tripped over a branch after hearing the question. All he could do was groan and roll his eyes in response which seemed like a valid answer in his opinion.

“He’s just moody because he didn’t get to kiss Eddie goodbye.” Robin joked while puckering up her lips and making loud kissing sounds. All of them laughed in unison while Steve kept getting hot in the face. One day he’ll have an answer to why his body was betraying him but right now he didn’t have anything.

“Gross, at least take him to dinner first Steve.” Dustin added to the jokes making the others laugh harder. He couldn’t take it anymore, Steve grabbed Dustin’s wrist and pulled him away from the girls so they could talk privately.

“Henderson, we need to talk. We’ll meet you guys back at the car!” Steve called out to Robin and Max in return earning an okay from both of them. Steve managed to get to an area that was private enough and he let go of Dustin’s wrist, he looked at Steve with a confused expression.

“What did you want to talk about?” Dustin asked as he put his hands in his pockets and he gave Steve all of his attention. Steve took a deep breath before speaking and he prepared himself for the lecture he was going to be hit with.

“It’s about the whole… Eddie thing. We did talk about soulmates-“

“That’s good! Was he shocked or excited, in between. What did he think?” Dustin asked eagerly. Steve let out a nervous laugh in the middle of Dustin’s theatrics. The longer he thought about this entire thing the more he felt like complete shit.

“Well he thinks that Robin is his soulmate and not me.” Steve said truthfully. Dustin’s eyes widened then he laughed which caught Steve off guard because he didn’t find anything about the situation funny in the slightest.

“That’s hilarious! But you told him that wasn’t true, right?” Dustin kept laughing thinking that Steve would start laughing to but remained silent as he looked at the ground with a frown. Dustin’s smile faded fast when Steve didn’t answer his question and he hit Steve in the shoulder. “You did tell him that he was wrong right Steve?”

“Okay not exactly but it doesn’t matter because while he’s focused on Robin and whenever the moment comes she’ll let him down easy then I get to find the girl of my dreams like I was planning on doing anyways, problem solved.” Steve shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal. He wasn’t going to chase someone that wasn’t interested. Let alone Eddie Munson, that was way out of Steve’s pick for partners anyways. Dustin shook his head and slapped Steve’s shoulder again this time it actually hurt. He looked like he wanted to kill Steve right on the spot.

“No! The problem isn’t solved and you’ve made things worse by not being honest with him,” Dustin paused halfway through his sentence and his face changed from angry to smug really fast as if he’s just discovered something. Steve didn’t like the way Dustin started to wave his finger at him while laughing like a maniac. “I know what’s going on here. You’re afraid.”

“What?” Steve looked at Dustin with squinted eyes. Dustin continued to wave his finger thinking he was on to something then shaking his head.

“You’re afraid that if you actually gave Eddie a chance that you will fall for him. That has to be the reason why you’re going through all these lengths to not even give the relationship between you two a try.” Dustin said letting his analysis come to a conclusion. Steve thought all of it was nonsense and he figured Dustin at times thought he could read humans like they were books on a shelf, this time his research was wrong.

“First of all, I’m not afraid of anything. Second of all even if I did give him a chance I wouldn’t fall for him because we just don’t click and maybe our clocks got it wrong.” Steve tried to look at this scenario as it was the clocks fault and something was wrong with it but in reality it was very rare for anyones clock to be wrong let alone lead you to someone that wasn’t truly yours. Dustin placed a hand in Steve’s shoulder and smiled at him softly.

“Whatever you do, just make sure it’s the right thing and you have to tell both of them the truth eventually. If you don’t care about Eddie’s feelings then at least care about Robin’s, she doesn’t deserve to get dragged in any of this.” Dustin said as he gave Steve a quick pay on his shoulder then walked towards the car leaving Steve with his thoughts.

Steve hates to admit it but Dustin was right. Robin should’ve been left out of all of this as soon as Eddie brought her up. He knew that he wasn’t going to be serious about getting them together and all he needed was a little more time to get things figured out. Steve had a plan that wasn’t set and stone yet, that didn’t mean that nothing was going to happen. On his way to the car he figured that he should start brainstorming, except all of his thoughts kept taking him to nowhere.

Great.

#steddie #steddie fanfic #steddie ficlet #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #idk what else to tag #help lol #please #come on #manifesting #power #so cuuuute #steddie hcs #headcanon #i’m a mess #hcs #lmaooooooo #that is so funny #wow #hmmmmm #omfg #i know what you are #be for real #duffer brothers i swear #i’m tiiiiiired #steddie headcanon #fanfiction #steddie soulmate au

[sage-nebula]

I am not sure that I have ever hated an ad more than I hate the Farmer's Dog ads.

For those of you who remain blissfully unaware, The Farmer's Dog is a dog food company that reportedly sells "human grade" dog food, for out-the-ass expensive prices. And you know what? That alone would be fine. If someone wants to start up a dog food company where they make dog food in a form other than a kibble, whatever, more power to them.

However.

Their ads are fucking heinous. I originally heard them when read out by YouTubers as sponsors (for instance they sponsored the Jenna Julien podcast, which I love) and always had to fast-forward through them. And now I'm seeing them on YouTube (when I'm watching on my TV and thus don't have adblock). I skip them as fast as I can, but I always hear the start of them and they make me fucking livid.

Why, you ask?

Because their ad copy is written to guilt trip dog owners into buying their product. Stuff like, "no living being should have to eat processed food for their whole lives." And "you shouldn't feed your dog burnt, processed kibble" and "would YOU want to eat kibble? Why feed that to your dog?" Basically shaming dog owners because they buy their dog kibble. And this just sets me off for numerous reasons:

1.) I have C-PTSD, and because of the trauma that caused that I feel guilt over things way more easily than the average person. One time my dad told me that there was Snapple iced tea in the fridge and I said "I don't like tea" and he said "oh" because that's fine by him, but for some reason my brain instantly told me I had hurt his feelings by rejecting the tea and I felt guilty for hours. And as an even more recent example, I rarely leave my house even on the weekends because I feel guilty leaving my dog home alone even for a few hours. I feel so guilty about having to leave her at home for work, that during my free time I don't go to friends' houses as often as I could (or to the library etc) because I feel guilty for just, you know, being a human with a life. I know this is a problem with my emotional regulation, I try to work on it, but what I'm getting at here is "you are horrible for feeding your dog what you feed her" makes me spiral and so to hear it from a fucking ad (and even worse, as sponsored copy coming out of the mouth of someone I admire) is just fucking awful.

2.) It's even more awful and ridiculous when you consider that in my specific case, the kibble that my dog eats is prescription kibble as prescribed to her by her veterinarian for her hyperlipidemia.

What is hyperlipidemia, you may ask? Well, it's a chronic health condition where her body can't process fats properly. As a result, if she eats something with even a little too much fat in it, her pancreas gets inflamed and can quickly turn into pancreatitis. She can't have most dog treats, she can't have any table scraps, and before she was diagnosed and prescribed her prescription food, she was constantly in pain, crying, and wetting herself. She has a serious, chronic medical condition that she will have for the rest of her life, and the only thing keeping it in check is her prescription kibble.

And believe me, this is not ideal. Not only because I wish I could spoil her with treats, but because the prescription food is expensive as hell. I don't get the biggest bag, but it is still $100 per bag, and she goes through a bag every month and a half. But I will readily buy it for her (and in fact have it scheduled to be delivered to my house so it overlaps and she is never without, since regular store kibble won't do for her condition). I will buy it for her because it's what her doctor said she needs. Because I saw a NOTICEABLE DIFFERENCE in her health and wellness after I switched to this food, and I'll never forget how fucking scared I was when she was on the verge of pancreatitis and we didn't know what was causing it.

But of course, I'm just a horrible, heartless, uncaring dog parent because I don't feed her "human grade" food. I'm sure Farmer's Dog would tell me they could totally make a recipe that wouldn't set off her hyperlipidemia, but have they ever seen her? No. Have they ever examined her? No. Do they know anything about her? No. Is there any evidence at all that their food would have the same health benefits as her prescription food? No. So why in the seven hells should I believe them? But of course, even if I did . . .

3.) Their food is EXPENSIVE. AS. FUCK. I did the math a year ago and I remember that it would be like $300 per month for one of their lowest tier subscription plans. So not only do they guilt trip dog owners by making it seem as if feeding them kibble is a cruel act, but then they make their food so fucking expensive that if you can't afford to feed it to your dog? (Which I would imagine the average person can't given that the average person also has a ton of other expenses.) Well, then you're still just a shitty dog parent. If you truly loved your dog, you would find a way to get them this human grade food instead of the processed shit chunks you're feeding them.

Now, don't get me wrong. Not all dog kibble is created equal. There are some truly terrible dog brands out there. But there are also some really excellent brands as well, brands that have been certified by the WSAVA (such as my dog's prescription kibble). Painting all kibble with a broad stroke as if it's horrible and you're horrible for feeding it to your dog is just an awful tactic.

Even if I had a dog that didn't have a need for prescription food, and even if I could afford $300 a month on dog food (which I can't despite living in a low cost of living area and making a decent salary), I still wouldn't buy Farmer's Dog. Not only because I have seen reddit posts and twitter threads about people's dogs getting seriously ill on it (which are just anecdotal and there are others who say their dogs do well on it), but because their ads are written to guilt-trip loving dog parents into buying their insanely expensive product, and I think that's a scummy business practice.

Fuck Farmer's Dog. Me and all my homies hate Farmer's Dog.

#had to get this off my chest after I saw another horrible fucking ad #i hate those ads so fucking much #they are rotten and i hope their whole damn company goes under

[bokvshou]

when tfs came out I saw jokes saying that haru was literally possessed by albert and that's funny af but it also made me want to tell how, for me, this is comparable to one of my bpd episodes.

spoilers for free! the final stroke part 1&2.

first of all, disclaimer: I'm not trying to speak for all the people with bpd because we're all different. I'm just going to share how I related the scene (and haru) to how I experience my own episodes.

for those who don't know: "bpd" refers to "borderline personality disorder". is a mental disorder characterized by unstable relationships, intense mood swings, fear of abandonment, intolerance to be alone, frequent feelings of emptiness or boredom, and other symptoms. we don't really know what causes this disorder, but it's believed that shit like abuse (physical, emotional or sexual), childhood neglect, unstable family life or even genetics are part of the reasons.

anyway.

in an episode the symptoms vary by individual, but in my case they usually start after attacks of anxiety or anger, and sometimes due to depression. the most common trigger for me though is the feeling of abandonment, and jealousy.

the thing with bpd is that we tend to get extremist. like, a lot (this is known as splitting). for me sometimes "I forgot to tell you that I won't be able to see a movie with you today, sorry!" can mean "I don't care about you and I don't want to be with you anymore". a simple problem can turn into something bigger and affect my head in an atomic way.

(and here we must take into account that negative experiences or emotions carried over and accumulated from before make things much worse. in this case, I mean that haru already has very bad memories regarding rin stopping swimming when he's involved).

so, what happened here? well, exactly that. haruka felt safe because he thought rin would be by his side and he was brave enough to actually tell him (something we know haru has a hard time doing), so when he found out what was going on, his mind took it as something IRREPARABLE.

haru's mind thought "I'm completely alone, rin left me, he doesn't want to be with me anymore, he abandoned me again" instead of "rin is not going to swim with me this time".

although rin was only sacrificing swimming together in the present to be able to do it later in the future, with a long-term mindset, haru took it as a rejection. the terrifying idea of ​​abandonment and the feeling of rejection was the trigger, and from that moment on, haruka's head no longer understood reasons.

it is worth mentioning that it's not the first time haru has acted like this. in fact, most of his conflicts throughout the seasons and movies share similar roots: abandonment, the feeling of loneliness, or some of his close relationships going their separate ways from him.

it happened with his best friend, it happened with his family, it happened with ikuya, and more than anything... it happened with rin. and the thing is, with rin it's always more intense, I mean, we have to remember that after all, rin is the reason why haruka was, canonically, in a depressive episode for 4 years. it's to be expected that being involved in this type of situation with him affects haru a fucking lot.

a clear example in S1, when rin (also with depression at the time, 100% confirmed) wanted to "move on" by getting rid of haru, and we can literally see how the light escapes from his blue eyes, totally hopeless and heartbroken. haru is NOT able to accept the idea of ​​rin abandoning him. for haru the world ends the moment rin even mentions walking away, or stopping swimming, or anything similar, as seen several times.

long story short, for me haru has symptoms of bpd.

and what happens during an episode? well, I get irrational. my emotions are at 300%, I'm defensive, I explode with little provocation and I speak without thinking. haru felt hurt and that was exactly what he did, and in HIS head he was totally justified.

sometimes, in that fragile state of mind, it's... easy to say out loud all the stupid, negative, aggressive and hurtful shit you could think of. haru exploded, and subconsciously wanted to hurt rin and make him feel just as miserable as him. something like: you broke my heart and I will make you pay for it.

bpd's a lil bitch.

in those moments your perception of reality is soooo damn wrong and your head only processes what it wants: he cheated on me, he doesn't love me anymore, he is abandoning me, he prefers another person, they are lying to me, etc etc etc.

and for the others involved it's all confusing because they don't understand how you went from being perfectly fine to... that, and they don't know what they did wrong. (they probably didn't do anything wrong).

so, the albert situation™.

albert appears to haru as someone intimidating, with enormous power at the cost of being completely alone, something haru doesn't want and is afraid to face that possibility. albert serves as a physical representation of this fear.

the whole "his eyes change color and now haruka's possessed omg" thing is not literal, obviously. in addition to serving as a nice visual resource for the film, for me it's a good way to demonstrate something that happens with bpd: splitting, and symptoms such as paranoia, self-sabotage, and impulsiveness.

splitting.

it's not like haruka's possessed or we're having some "dark!haru" concept going on, haru is just splitting. splitting is basically a defense mechanism that is done unconsciously in an attempt to protect yourself against strong negative emotions like loneliness or abandonment. splitting makes one see things in absolute terms, something black/white and prevents you from recognizing any gray areas in events, people, or thoughts because supposedly the point is to easily discard the "bad" things and embrace the "good" things to protect yourself.

but seeing and responding to the world in such an extreme way can leave a person exhausted and emotionally drained. it also ends up leading to big ass problems in relationships because those close to the person end up being affected by their behavior.

paranoia.

haru looks absolutely terrified when albert "shows up". I mean, for me this is comparable to the moment when intrusive thoughts arrive. haruka gets upset, and begins to doubt his decisions, future, relationships and is afraid that his fears will come true.

then his guard is up and it looks like an anxiety attack with tachycardia, stress and cold sweat included. albert, like intrusive thoughts, comes out of nowhere and is psychological torture.

impulsiveness.

each and every one of the things he said to rin were on impulse. he wanted rin to listen that shit? never. was that how he wanted to say it? of course not. but he did it without thinking. did he really mean everything he said? I don't necessarily think so, but maybe it was a grudge accumulated from a long time ago, I mean, it's not like he told a lie, rin himself later admits that he knew how he was acting but preferred to pretend that he didn't see haru's feelings.

so, it's not that albert controls him, it's haru himself acting impulsively based on his fears, anxieties and paranoia. he's defensive because he's hurt and full of trauma and ptsd and he feels betrayed and vulnerable.

a "spirit" version of haru can be seen outside his body trying to stop himself. this is obviously not literal either, it's the part of his brain that is rational, that knows what he's thinking isn't true and wants to control himself, but during an episode YOU DON'T LISTEN.

self sabotage.

someone with bpd tends to sabotage themselves a lot, and that's exactly what haru did. he instigated a fight with rin, was then left alone and miserable, and instead of fixing it, he used it to further sink himself into the horrible mindset he was already in. because in his head there was no other option to take.

haru could have tried to understand rin's decisions, could have reacted better, that is expected, is the way a functional person works. but the thing with bpd is... you DON'T GET IT. for haru, rin was rejecting him and his brain went into survival mode. end of the story.

then, when the outburst passes and you "come to your senses," all that remains is regret and guilt, and a thousand questions of "why did I do that? I shouldn't have said anything, why did this happen? why do I always mess everything up?" and you go into a spiral.

and knowing haru it's obvious he's going to take all the blame on himself because it's what he's been doing since he was a kid and no one has EVER bothered to correct and comfort him. on the contrary, other people have only further buried the idea in his head (thank you, hiyori).

well, what happens next? depends on the person. self harm, suicide attempts, isolation... you become difficult to approach, you feel empty, you try to stay alone even if your condition worsens. and what does haru do? he exercises TOO much and worsens his physical condition to the point that he falls asleep in random places due to exhaustion. a form of self harm if you ask me.

sometimes I feel like I need a prince charming in armor but at least 80% of the time I have a lot of trouble getting out of a dark moment by myself. and at least in my case, after one episode I go back to a depressive spiral, and it's worse than the last. it's very painful and distressing, and you do NOT know what to do and in your head there is no damn solution, you're completely alone and it's all your fault. and that can end very, very badly.

and by "very badly", I mean things like self-harm and the desire to kill yourself, because these types of behaviors are very common in patients with bpd. please whenever someone with bpd tells you they feel that way, take it seriously.

something else I noticed and would like to say is that bpd can include somatization (when your emotions show up as literal physical pain) and haru just goes through that here, falling to his knees with intense pain in his chest.

and I mean- no, it wasn't necessarily obvious, haru.

for someone with bpd it's NOT obvious even the simplest things, especially if it has to do with the feelings of others towards us; it's the lack of emotional permanence, and that is why we desperately need the constant reassurance and search for approval.

but if you want me to say it "simple": haru is traumatized with rin leaving him, rin implied that he would, in a way, and haru and his ptsd responded defensively. because haru needs therapy, let me tell u.

finally: none of this invalidates the fact that rin felt bad about what haru said, although it's true they have never sat down to talk about what happened when they were kids, and rin's issues are a whooole other can of worms.

#haruka nanase #free! haruka #free! iwatobi swim club #the final stroke #spoilers #bordeline personality disorder #bpd #headcanon #but it's more of a projection honestly #sensitive topics #bpd episode #nanase haruka has bpd #thats my hashtag now idc idc

[agapi-kalyptei]

talking to myself: reflecting on change, being the toxic person, and people being the toxic person at one point but not at another

(1)

When I say I've grown, I never mean "look at me I'm so awesome" - sometimes it's "I'm really glad I'm handling this better than I used to", sometimes "I'm too old for this", sometimes "I'm sorry for what I used to be", sometimes "I know I'm a garbage person difficult to deal with and make a lot of mistakes, but believe me I used to be a lot worse".

And I'm not joking when I tell people I'm not smart. If I'm doing something well (in the context of [any kind of] a relationship), it's because someone endured me make mistakes in this exact situation many times before.

(Offtopic but I just realized how so many things were made worse by my obsessive tendencies, I mean how "my brain" refused to leave a thing alone and did intense post-event rumination or whatev's it called these days. And subsequently how a lot of those mistakes are easier to avoid if you have supportive friends to talk to, hobbies to focus on, showers to take, cats to pet, books to read, and dosing to be microed.)

(2)

Just because someone is supportive now doesn't mean they'll always be. Just because someone is okay at one point doesn't mean they won't be toxic later, but it also doesn't mean they'll be toxic forever.

This applies to you. This applies to me.

Even incels/PUA/other cruel people aside - I loathe to even mention the all too common playbook of <man offers> <woman refuses> <man hurls offensive remarks> which would be a joke, if it wasn't so omnipresent and so devastating on a large scale. Even that aside, most people have the capacity (and some have a tendency) to change how they act when they don't need you anymore.

And again - I'm not immune. I'm also not shielded from being a target of this. Someone growing in infatuation with you, and then once they're not getting what they hoped for, or they lose hope, or they find a new boyfriend - suddenly it's ok to be mean. It's OK to get revenge now. It's okay to let them know just how awful humans beings they are. How they deserve rejection. Because they rejected you. Which hurt. And you don't deserve to be hurt, right? That means they're a horrible person. Let them know.

This, of course, is childish. It's easier for some. It's easier on some days. But I don't blame you if it takes effort.

(3)

What I will, however, do - is shield myself better. Noticing patterns of abuse I've faced in my childhood or 20 years ago or 15 years ago or 5 years ago. (I think 10 years ago I was the red flag more. Sorry M. Sorry E. Sorry L. Sorry H. <- List not exhaustive. Also please give me a moment to ponder that my exes from 10 years ago are now 10 years older. I hope.)

(And like. I know how sometimes people with narcissistic tendencies spend so much talking about how they're strong and how they know better now and how they won't let anyone hurt them anymore, as they're planning the latest round of messages which are a few syllables away from being against geneva conventions.)

It's just. I'm not used to knowing what I want. I'm not used to saying "well I deserve better". I'm not used to thinking "this behavior is inappropriate and I won't let people do that to me." I can do it now, but I still feel guilty for expecting better.

(4)

All those words and still no guarantee that I won't mess up, that I won't ever hurt anyone ever again, that I won't slide down in the self esteem enough that abusive interactions will start seeming familiar again. (So many things could go wrong, seemingly, after eating a lot of bread and some tuna.)

Maybe it's time to stop blogging, on a larger scale, and find answers in my life with tools that exist in the real world.

(5)

Just because you think you are / you are / your friends say you are a good person, doesn't mean you can't hurt people here and there.

Just because you think you are / you are / other people say you are a horrible person doesn't mean you can't get hurt for legitimate reasons even quite often. Hope you find help.

(6)

I take a shower and my gremlin status effect gets reduced by 50 points.

#personal #these r the thoughts #i am not feeling down it's just a small snapshot #too many thoughts recently #I don't feel like i'm coherent enough #otherwise I'm doing pretty fine #give or take the health issues as always

[whump-in-the-closet]

Raising Chaos Masterlist.

Chiar used to be dead. He often wishes he stayed dead. But he was resurrected as a cryptid for the sole purpose of service. He jumps from employer to employer, doing their dirty work. But the life of a cryptid is a rejection of his last remnants of humanity. And that price is one Chiar is unwilling to pay.

Torture and suffering. Angst. Inhuman Whumpee. Lots of self-loathing.

What is a cryptid?

***

Main Timeline:

(not updated in chronological order)

Origins. Chiar is confused as to why he is alive when's he supposed to dead. It would also be great if everything stopped hurting.

Backtalking. Chiar learns the hard way not to disobey the orders of his first employer, Fain. His coworker yells at him for being an idiot.

Nothing is Fine. Fain uses physical force as a means to get Syl to shut up and to terrify Chiar. Good luck with that.

A Cryptid’s Job. Chiar learns what his work detail is and hates it. Syl tries to be nice, he really does.

Early Days. Syl convinces Chiar to run away with him. Fain does not like his most valuable assets leaving and the plan goes to shit real fast.

Alone. What it says on the bottle. Chiar swears to never use his abilities again.

On the Run. Unemployed and hating people, our guy Chiar gets chased out of yet another city.

Left for Dead. There's a voice in Chiar's head and it wants to kill a lot of people. Yes, this is part of the magic system, please don't analyze it too much.

My Name is Chiar. Chiar gets tied to a chair and is offered a job. Enter Azide.

The Mistake. Turns out that Chiar does have a limit of how much he can take.

Day One. Bridge is a condescending asshole and no one likes him, least of all Chiar.

Day Twelve. Another timeskip. Fire. Lots of fire.

Intriguing. Bridge think's he's a scientist or something. It's definitely illegal.

Bored. What happens when Bridge gets bored. Chiar suffers. Immensely.

Not Yet. Internal conflict. Chiar has to choose between torture or death and hates both options.

Collared: GRWM to meet Lord Anubis. Chiar fantasizes about murder (as one does).

Broken Nose. Sterling, Azide's sister and Chiar's current employer, gets a front row seat to Chiar getting his face bashed into concrete. She walked into a trap. Oops. (not canon)

Sometime in the Distant Future:

Could be Worse. Angst ft. Azide.

Candelight. A badly timed flashback to Bridge's favorite tool. Fire. Some fluff.

Divine Monsters. Chiar gets a much needed hug.

***

Asks and Other Stuff:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 , 12, 13, 14, 15

character references

art!!! and backstory swap art (by kira-the-whump-enthusiast)

taglist: @kira-the-whump-enthusiastsiast, @pigeonwhumps (lmk if you want to be added/ removed!)

#raising chaos #whump masterlist #whump writing #my guy chiar #i will update this regularly this time

[coffeejustcoffee]

People. They have this thing they do, the 'your alone all the time, come out of your room', the 'you're so quiet', the neverending comments on how you act... Preoccupied with everything you lack, there is nothing you can do about them obviously for it is out of love, worry.

Still I cannot find it in me to agree with painting more pitch black inky lines in my conscious, in a attempt to what... make me less afraid of being alive, of doing something irreversible. Of living.

All of these opinions have caged me in such a irrefutable way that I can't picture how it would feel to not constantly think several steps ahead, to noy evaluate every outcome. To simply be alive, believe that the good will inevitably win out. In me, in all of it.

But I can't. Even if I try my anger at your rejection of who I am now, while I am not alright. It makes me want to win like this.

I want to be this person and get out of here. Maybe that is stupid, but it's true. If anything I do love the human in my skin, I wish I didn't hurt her so. I wish I didn't let those words go in. I wish I knew how.

I hope with all my heart that I get out of here, and I hope I find the world lovely in all that it is. All of us deserve to be understood. I hope I understand, but I also hope that I draw my own lines. Understanding - Abused. The line I've had between these two has been so small for most of my life. Now, finally... Finally. I see some semblance of change, I hope I follow it all the way to becoming something more alive. I hope I look alive... Like there is something growing inside of me, something soft and green. I hope these cages make me invincible, so that once I conquer these walls, I can conquer anything.

Most of all, I hope I learn to love... And then to be loved. I hope I allow it. I hope I don't run.

Hell. In all of this I know there is something wrong with me... But truly, do you think I would just remain here if I could leave. Would I stay here willingly. That simple notion infuriates me. Do you think I am an idiot, that I know absolutely nothing?

You stating the obvious does not help. You are making it harder. Trust me I have tried every way I know 1) Let you help: you don't understand, you cannot help. Insensitive, rude, selfish, impatient, as if I am a waste of time, the just stop idealogy, you are like this person or that person (people you never say anyhing nice about - how quant) ... I don't ask for "help" anymore and maybe that's stupid, maybe someone could help me... However 3/3 odds... it hurts too much, worse than what was there before. Then I have to do what I would have done if I never asked, put everything back, but now the pieces are smaller. It takes longer, and they mend slower. Not worth it. 2) Hide: this burns... It sears into you at night, in the dark. I hate crying now, I have made it cheap. So I don't, and that's not 'healthy' apparently, it feels better though. It feels strong, I cry only when it matters most. Little things won't make me cry, I am not pathetic. I am not weak.

Then you laugh at me when I speak, -I am so cute- if you understand how this feels, then I apologize. Every way I have been taught to human is somehow wrong, depending on the day, depending on their mood.

I don't want this. I do not want your weight. I look down the edge, it would be so much simpler... So easy. I cried so much after that. You don't even know, and I can never tell you.

I don't want this, but I don't want that either. I am disappointed, I wish I was stronger. I wish someone could tell me it's not my fault. It's my head, it's in my blood. Tell me I'm not broken. Don't look at me like your perfect little experiment isn't so perfect after all. Don't get all flustered when I don't dance for your show, don't get frustrated when I am not who you want.

I am what I need, all because you couldn't be. You failed me. I would never say this to you, it would break your heart. As long as I remember I've been falling apart when you look away, only to straighten up and smile when you turn back. Why? Call it loyalty, call it love or call it stupid. I don't care. Not about anything at all.

My only wish. My last wish, my last remaining want, is for silence. I want for time, I want to find whatever it is that makes me care again. I want to start with one thing and then grow and grow and grow, up until I have many thing I find thrilling. Things that I find intriguing. I want to live a life that I like. I want to like things, I want to want...

I don't want clueless ninnies making it so much fucking worse. I'm tired of being thrown into water. I have enough as is, I do not need yours too. Leave me be. Just leave me the hell alone. Love me or leave. No advice, no opinions, nothing... All you should be doing is making me understand that I am enough. That I am enough - now. This is enough. This is beautiful. I am beautiful.

If you could only...

It would all be so much less of a death sentence. Silence can tear you to shreds if you enter it with the weight of the world on your shoulders. The outcome depends on the start, sure I will always straighten up when need be... Inside. Outside. I do not look... alive. That makes me very sad. Maybe only I see it, the shadows in my eyes. The force in my smile, the fold in my shoulders. The defeat. The weight. The pain.

I have no remedy. I cannot see the edge, all I have is pride. I will not end. I will find my lightness again. I will defeat the undefeatable. I will beat the unbeatable. I will win... And I will do it as me.

I just hope someone, someday can love what is left.

#bleeding words #resilience #relationships #poetry #life #spilled ink #spilled feelings #if someone reads this #there is absolutely #nothing fucking wrong #with you #YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL #NOW #<3 #I apologize on behalf #of the idiot that made #you believe contrary #ily

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Hello, this is a follow-up regarding to my relationship towards my father with my career choice as an Addiction Counselor. (INTJ)

I've tried and seek a mutual understanding between us our differences and I'm starting to see why we don't eye to eye apart from our mindset. He only sees himself as the prominent figure in the household and is inconsiderate of others despite staying with us for 6 years. (He was a deadbeat before then.)

He would explain his own troubles while dismissing the needs of my mother's physical ache. Whenever she has bottled up emotions, he would brush them aside and start ranting about his coworkers much to my mother's displeasure. He would push away from my (and mom's side) of the family because he deems 'too american' for him. We would share foods over visitation with my aunts and uncles which he says makes them lazy but when the same is done for him he gradually accepts them.

One last thing I want to touch on is his lack of self-reflection. He would constantly make false promises whenever he hurts my mother (emotionally) and berates me for being me. I've talked to my mother about this situation and need to stay by her side (because she's the one who raised and been there for me for all my life) my mother doesn't want any more arguments and would just remain passive to him even though it only makes it worse. She is selfless by default and would do it for maintaining harmony even if its unhealthy ones.

I know my life is mine, but I have a duty to protect my mother and only my 2 cousins and uncle know about this situation. When push comes to shove I will eventually have to take action, if he physically harms her I will have no problem fighting him back. I know I need to do something to help my family out while pursuing my degree. What's your input on this? Thanks in advance.

-----------------------

It sounds like there are many boundary issues in your family. You want to blame your father, but relationship problems are rarely one-sided. It takes two people to create a toxic relationship dynamic.

1) Yes, due to his lack of self-reflection, he is often violating other people's boundaries, which is a big problem. 2) However, your mother does not respect and honor her own personal boundaries, which leads her to accept mistreatment from others. These two kinds of people are complementary, but in an unhealthy, codependent way.

3) There is the issue of where you fit into this situation and what kind of boundaries you need to be setting. It's admirable of you to want to protect your mother, but that shouldn't be your job. The child should not be the one parenting the parent. I know it's hard to hear, but she has a responsibility to care for herself and she has a responsibility to care for you by keeping you out of her relationship troubles with your father. I'm not sure what you can do for her when she's unwilling to do for herself. As a general rule, you shouldn't tell people what to do, make decisions for them, or live their life for them, as that would be a violation of their boundaries.

I'm afraid I don't really know what you're asking me for. Asking for "input" is too vague. While you've described the relationship between your parents, you haven't given enough information about yourself and what options are available to you. Realistically, what can you do? Be the peacemaker? Threaten him? Break them up? Advise her to stand up for herself, which would only provoke him? Try to get them professional help, which they would most likely reject?

Are you away from home now, and that's why you're more worried about it? Perhaps the only thing you can do is keep close contact with the both of them, though it might be painful for you to interact with your father so much. By keeping tabs on them and hearing about what they're up to, you may have more opportunity to get in front of any escalation of their problems. Hopefully, you can keep the fires under control until you're in a better position to put them out. If your relatives are willing to help, you can also ask them to observe and report to you.

#family #ask

[twntyfiveotwo]

it’s ok to write about you

kept saying over and over again, that it will be my last time talking about you. i decide, maybe it’s time i stop lying to myself. and that it’s okay if i want to talk about you even if we no longer talk. because you were such a huge part of my life, how can i just pretend you don’t exist. that’s such an unhealthy way to grief, like i’m just denying my own emotions when i know fking well that just cause i deny them doesn’t mean they’re not that. eventually it will still hit me, and i will still feel like shit

my best friend told me im too smart for my own good, she’s probably right. it gets tiring when i over-analyse everything - people’s words, people’s behaviours, even my own thoughts. does not help that i’m so detail-oriented i pick up the smallest details that other people don’t see. i simply refuse to believe things are just “plain coincidences”, especially when these “coincidences” keep happening back to back. a part of my brain will say “it’s just songs sis, it’s not that deep. people listen to songs without looking at the lyrics most of the time”, “he alr rejected you for good. you promised yourself that you’re going to take his words as it is and not turn back anymore”. yes i know that. like any rational person will call me out for being deluded because who the fk looks at so many minor details and call them “evidences”. like i can just be twisting all the meaning of these details into what i want to believe isn’t it? like it can mean absolutely nothing isn’t it? i tried so hard to brainwash myself but i cant. call it my instinct or what not, it’s so fking hard to believe that these are just coincidences one after another

#1 when i asked you “that to you i’ll always be a friend only”, why did you avoid it initially? before replying “i do think that’s best” when i asked for your reply in regards to that question but what do you mean by “you do think that’s best”? do you remember i asked you the same question years ago when we were friends, your reply was straightforward af. i asked you if my feelings were all one-sided, about how i like you and seeing you as more than a friend. there was no hesitation, you gave me a clear cut, to the point answer. all you replied was “ya”. that straightup helped me to know where i clearly stand, and the kind of boundaries you have set for me. which was why even tho after you rejected me, and even tho i still had feelings for you, i had never once felt like you were going to reciprocate any of that. i was ready to let my feelings stay as some form of unrequited love, as long as it meant i could stay by your side

#2 after your reply i got mad. because it took me so much courage to text you only to get such an iffy answer. so i told you to stop being nice, to stop beating around the bush, and to just tell me the truth. that i needed a definite answer to stop acting like a deluded mofo. but you wanted to avoid my question, once again. “i think we should just stop. idk how to say this anymore. it’s not healthy for u or me” so what am i supposed to feel from that? because years back when i asked you a similar question you had no problem giving me a straightforward answer. what do you mean by you don’t know how to say this anymore. when all you had to say was “yes, you’ll always only be a friend to me” “just a friend, nothing more”. what do you mean by it’s not healthy for me or you? you can’t decide whether it’s unhealthy for me. did you think it was unhealthy because you’re scared i might become depressed if you were to hurt me? that’s not how it works. me pushing myself to have a hard conversation w you was my way of making sure i don’t let the mental situation get any worse than it should be. and honestly, i felt a lot better after talking to you. but what did you mean that it was unhealthy for you? were you afraid of being the bad guy, for hurting me? but you rejected me before. we continued being friends despite that. there was nothing you need to feel guilty over. or, were you afraid of being honest w your feelings? that it would be unhealthy if we were to both explore the feelings we have for each other, and make our current relationships a mess? idk. but then again, it’s something i would never be able to find out isn’t it?

#3 during our conversation that day, i asked if your Spotify playlist meant anything. you said probably not, they are mostly based on your gf’s taste in music. is it really? i mean i’m not about to doubt that those music are probably based on your gf’s recommendations. but when i mentioned your Spotify playlist, it’s so fking obvious i stalk them. and here comes the coincidence, you created a new public playlist 12 hours after our conversation. and so happens, you changed the name of the playlist that i think was about me from “bobba” to “bops”, without changing the names of your other 3 existing playlists. not to mention the new playlist you created, there were some songs in there w lyrics that are confusing af song #1 is talking about a passionate romance strained by physical and emotional separation is it not describing us both in our own physical relationships, not being able to come together? song #2 contains lyrics “don’t think it’s just a feeling. i’m gonna love you i mean it. sending all my emotions away. breathing, keep it to myself again” does it not mean that you do have feelings for me but you dont tell anyone about it song #6 is about reminiscing on a past r/s. that some part of him still wants to be w the person he was w and wonders if the other person feels the same idk what to feel about this anymore. but if only you knew, when i finally pluck up the courage to go talk to you, i was ready to drop everything to run towards you if i heard what i wanted to hear song #7 contained lyrics like “i’ve been in love w her for ages. i can’t seem to get it right. i fell in love w her in stages. my whole life”. and the song is talking about being infatuated w a friend who doesn’t feel the same way that he does about her it’s just songs right. they are just song lyrics right. like it’s not that deep right? for all these coincidences to happen over and over again

song #12 contained lyrics like “and even if we’re just friends. we could be more than that”. and the song is implying about some sort of unrequited love. that both parties have the capacity to love each other but there is a third party interrupting their connection must be me being delusional. song lyrics shouldn’t be hitting me so hard

i sound like a delusional fk honestly reading into these amount of details. but honestly, i’m tired. i realised something - it doesnt matter whether i’m right or wrong. even if i insist that my instincts are not wrong, even if i manage to prove that all these analysis i have is right, it doesn’t matter. i cant force you to fight if you dont want to. idw to self-depricate myself and be like “am i not worth you trying to fight?” like fk that shit. i’m done comparing myself w her. she is good in her own ways, and i am good in my own ways. the fact is you’re a peacelover, and it’s just not in your DNA to fight for things. and that’s okay. i guess you’re right that the conversation would end up being unhealthy, cause so what if we find out we’re what the other person really wants, it would mean we need to hurt our current partner to get to where the other person is. do they deserve that? no. but that’s the difference between you and me. i would think that w only one shot in life, i wouldn’t want to miss out being together w the person that i love the most. but w you, i guess that’s the price you pay for being so kind. which you’ve always been. which is also why i love you so much

i am still going to be me. i am still going to be honest about how i feel about you. that even w us being apart, i think there’s always a piece of my heart that will always love you. and i’m still going to enjoy playing league and apex more than valorant. i’m still going to enjoy douyin more than tiktok. and im still going to listen to more chinese songs than english songs. im still going to like ballads more than rock songs. now that i think about it, maybe we won’t even be a good fit for each other. as much as i love you so damn much, we are so different. idk if that would matter, but i guess as of now maybe our current partner is a better fit for us

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

verse 1. in the car that used to drive us to our home

⤷ kuroo tetsurou, oikawa tooru — more characters coming soon

⤷ verse 2 | verse 3

⤷ play. never let me go by ghostly kisses, forget about us by clinton kane

commissions: open

⇢ KUROO sighs for the umpteenth time of the day. he was so fucking exhausted and his body's about to give in to sleep any moment now. work has been beating his ass; there was this newbie who kept on messing up the documents needed by the board and for the whole day, he had to be the one to fix said issues. it's not like he wasn't paid enough for that; if anything, his paycheck was one of the most beautiful things he laid his eyes on— but god, even his body has its own limits and yet...

"ya.... yer not supposed to do this anymore. y-ya left me, remember?" you slurred, index finger pointing right at his chest as he circled his arms around your waist, huffing as you practically dropped all your weight on him. here he was, suddenly given the task of having to take you home after your supposed-to-be designated driver, miya fucking atsumu, also drank his brains out with you.

"be patient. still heartbroken because of you, y'know?" kenma softly tells him despite the tipsy feeling lurking in the back of his mind, shaking his head as he looked at you, whose system finally shut down and were now dozing off in the black haired man's arms.

"..... still?" he mumbles, looking down at your figure and he feels his heart contract with pain all over again.

"you can't expect her to be fine immediately, kuroo. it was your wedding day, supposed to be the greatest day of her life and yet it became the worst one... you left her at the altar alone."

he didn't reply anything— or rather, he was unable to. because what can he say to refute the truth? nothing. instead, he proceeded to his car with you still in his hold. he places you on the passenger seat, locking the seatbelts before jogging to the driver's side.

the car ride was calm as you slept soundly with your head occasionally hitting the window lightly as it swayed from side to side. he was sure as hell that if you were sober right now, you wouldn't even have the thought of seeing him cross your mind. he just knows for sure that you despise him with your whole being... at least, that's what he thought until...

"i'm sorry, tetsu. please come back," you whimper in your seat, voice quiet but he heard it nonetheless, "tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it."

the pitiful sounds and mumbles you made struck kuroo right in the heart and which makes him pull over an empty but safe road, just a block away from your (previously shared) apartment. looking over your form, he finds himself reaching out to touch your face, caressing your cheeks as drops of tears fell down slowly on them, "you didn't do anything wrong. you were fine. you were so perfect."

you squint your eyes at him, probably wondering if this was real or just a part of your drunken imagination. nonetheless, you hiccuped, "y-you... you left me and i... i still can't even bring myself to hate you... i just wanna ask you why? i just want to understand."

he thought he also knew the reason why but every single time he thinks about it, he's only led to one conclusion: because he was a coward. no way was this any of your fault— it's definitely not your fault that right at that moment, as he stared at the mirror, wearing the black suit you chose for him, the sudden fear of commitment loomed over him. it's not like it was your fault he suddenly got scared of losing you the way his parents lost each other. but now he thinks it's ironic, because he lost you anyway.

maybe... just maybe, if he had just met you where you stood at the altar, instead of leaving you alone in it, maybe he would've been happier. maybe his days would've started more with a smile from you as you helped him fix his necktie before going to work. maybe, the working hours he spends in the shitty corporate world would've been more worth it if it meant he can come home to you at the end of the day. maybe... maybe he wouldn't have to be stuck with this lump in his throat as he wonders what could've been happening if he just chose to show up and vowed his life to you.

but he didn't.

"i realized i wasn't just ready to tie my life with anyone yet. that's all there is to it, yn."

so with a heavy feeling stuck in his chest and a quiet promise to never see you again for the sake of not hurting you further, he starts the car's engine again, ignoring the words you replied but he was sure they will haunt him for a very long time... again.

i can wait for you no matter how long it takes, tetsu, you know that.

⇢ OIKAWA gives you what seems like a guilty smile as he stands in front of you, opening his arms and gesturing you to come closer. but the stoic expression on your face takes him back to the reality that the last thing you wanted to do today was to actually fetch him from the airport. it just so happens that his three best friends were caught up with work that they had no choice but to send you, the main ex-bestfriend slash ex-girlfriend, to him.

why did you agree when you practically loathe him with your whole being? well, it was probably because you weren't the devil who would reject your friends when they were literally on their knees as they begged you and for some reason, you thought he'll look pitiful going back to his home country after five years with no one to welcome him. yeah, that's it. it's not like you're still in love with him or anything.

"my car's just around the corner," you begrudgingly walk towards the car park with him quietly following. at the moment, he knew better than to get on your nerves or else there would be war. he hates that this happened to the both of you but he can't blame anyone else but himself. because who wouldn't hate their ex-boyfriend if they suddenly broke up with them over a phone call?

tension filled the car as you both sat beside each other. perhaps, this was what other people were talking about when they say that it's impossible for exes to be friends again, to not feel any awkwardness because you were sure as hell that the word "awkward" was an understatement of your situation right now. nevertheless, your eyes couldn't help but wander to his figure as he adjusted his body, opting for a more comfortable position in the passenger's seat.

he looked more youthful and you felt bittersweet— proud that his whole aura screams of "success" which meant that gone were the days where he longed to get that winter cup trophy, nor the times when he overworked himself and put a strain on his knee which led to countless arguments with you. if anything, he looked happier and it sucks because you're not even close to feeling that way... not without him.

"i heard you've finally gotten yourself your own condominium? that's great, yn!" he exclaimed as soon as you began driving to your destination, a hope lit within him that maybe you might just respond to him. just one smile, that's all i need, he thinks.

but you remain focused on your driving, choosing to reply with a single nod and a soft "yeah..."

disappointment fills his heart as he faces the truth that your relationship has really been ruined, along with your friendship. all because he was foolish to think that he couldn't handle the physical distance between you two. realization dawns upon him that he just made that same distance worse as you pull your heart further away from him.

"... i actually bought it for the two of us, you know?" he whips his head to your direction in surprise, heart clenching as he watch you let out a sad chuckle, "i just... i thought it would be nice if we had a place to permanently stay at and for you to have a home to go to when you're at japan. but yeah... i guess things doesn't go our way sometimes, does it?"

"i'm sor—"

"it's okay. i'm fine now," you quickly reply, shaking your head but keeping your eyes on the road. he tries to ignore the tears that start to form in them because he has no right to stop them, knowing full well that he was the one who caused them in the first place.

as if on cue, you halt your vehicle in front of a familiar apartment and much to your dismay, you find yourself looking back in the past when you used to live in that same place, making wonderful memories with the chocolate haired lad with you. you clear your throat to stop the sob that desperately attempts to escape your throat, "uhm... we're here."

"oh, yeah. we're here," he numbly states, already missing you despite the mere inches of space separating the two of you. you just felt so far away and he hates it. but this was the path he chose so he gets out of your car along with his things, turning to you once more, "uhh... thanks for the ride, yn. i know you probably hate me but yeah... it's very nice of you to put that past us and i guess i just want to say sorry for hurting you... i just..."

"i don't hate you, tooru," you softly tell him, "i just don't want anything to do with you anymore. to see you this happy, without me, is like a slap in the face because i'm not. it still hurts and i'm not fine. i just hope this will be the last time we'll see each other. be safe on your trip back to argentina. welcome home."

and with that, you start the car's engine again, no longer having the energy nor the strength to hear his reply. but he wishes you did because as he watches your car drive further away from him, he can't help but wish that he can take back time so that you don't have to go to that condominium and instead, go inside the home you once shared with him.

but i'm not happy, yn. because how could i call this place my home when you're not here with me?

at that moment, unbeknownst to the two hearts that long for each other break at the same time, you finally let out the tears and cries that you've been keeping since you saw him, knowing that no matter how much you try, you'll never be as happy as you were with him— simply because he left you with a hole in your heart that no one else can fill.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #kuroo headcanons #oikawa headcanons #haikyuu writings #haikyuu angst #kuroo tetsurou #oikawa tooru #haikyuu imagines #post break-up heartaches

[robininthelabyrinth]

CQL-verse! The characters have the same age gaps between them as their actors and actresses! Wwx and Jyl are the same age, jc is 5 years younger than them. Lxc is 3 years younger than wwx&jyl and lwj is 3 years younger than him. Nmj is two years older than wwx&jyl and nhs is 8 years younger than him and the same age as lwj. (1/2)

Meng Yao is 2 years older than nhs and jzx is 2 years older than MY. I'm leaving the Wen Sibs out of this because otherwise WN would be the same age as wwx and WQ would be 4 years younger than him. But hey! If you want to go with that, go crazy! I was thinking more of Yunmeng Sibs focus, but I will be happy with anything! (2/2)

ao3

Untamed

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect to the point of death and war, but he had always had trouble hating sad and gentle Wen Ning.

Wen Ning was technically his peer – there were only two years between them in age – and therefore capable of the same sorts of responsibilities and duties towards righteousness as Nie Mingjue, meaning that he ought to hate him as much as all the rest. But at the same time, Wen Ning was only part of the main branch family indirectly, a ward of Wen Ruohan; he was constantly suppressed and even tormented by Wen Chao, the eldest son of that family. If anything, it seemed almost as if he’d been brought into the family just to act as the family’s scapegoat, the inferior copy that was so hapless that he made that self-indulgent hedonist Wen Chao appear somewhat competent in contrast.

Nie Mingjue couldn’t imagine treating any of his own cousins that way.

He and Wen Chao were often compared, both being about the same age, and their young brothers were of similar age as well, both of them only fourteen; this juxtaposition made sure that every single person in the cultivation world talk of them in the same breath. Nie Mingjue always came out the better in the comparison, and Wen Xu the same for his, which in the minds of most people balanced out, but which caused Wen Chao no end of rage. He knew he couldn’t take out his anger on the talented Wen Xu and so took out on poor Wen Ning instead.

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect.

He did not hate Wen Ning.

Wen Ning, who should not be here.

“Please,” Wen Ning said, nearly in tears, as he threw himself down to the floor in front of Nie Mingjue. He’d burst into the room in the inn Nie Mingjue was staying at, the guards that no sect leader could do without no matter what they wanted following close behind in alarm until Nie Mingjue had waved them off with a gesture; he’d been panting so hard that he’d only just now caught his breath. “Please help this useless older brother do one good thing with his life.”

Alarmed, Nie Mingjue reached out and caught Wen Ning by the shoulders, pulling him to stand and even forgetting himself enough to reach forward with a sleeve to dab away the tears staining the other man’s face.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling anxiety curdling in his gut. He’d spoken with Wen Ning before during the discussion conferences, both when he was younger and even, in a few stolen moments, after he became sect leader; he knew Wen Ning had a steady personality, if a weak one from all the bullying he endured, and that he was not given to unnecessary hysterics. If he could tolerate Wen Chao’s endless torment with a faint smile and a don’t worry sect leader Nie once you’re used to it it’s more funny than anything else, then what could make him act like this? “What is that you need help with? I do not understand.”

Wen Ning looked tired. He always had, his health had always been poor, but now it seemed worse than ever; there were circles under his eyes, and Nie Mingjue had no idea how he’d managed to get away from the Nightless City to come find him. The town he was currently in was close to the border the Qinghe Nie shared with Qishan Wen, but it was still an effort, especially for someone like Wen Ning. He might be a member of the Wen family by name, but his freedom was significantly curtailed, and it wasn’t only because he was sickly.

“My little sister is going to be attending the lectures at the Cloud Recesses,” Wen Ning said.

“The - Lan sect lectures?” Nie Mingjue repeated blankly. It was a stupid thing to say; of course it was the Lan sect’s lectures, who else would give lectures at the Cloud Recesses? And yet, at the same time – “The Wen sect hasn’t gone to them in generations.”

“Sect Leader Wen asked A-Qing to look for something,” Wen Ning said. “I don’t know what. He talks to her more than he talks to me, when she’s treating him with acupuncture and other such things – he only wants blood relations treating him now, so she’s passing along what she can do, the doctors all say she’s talented – he told her something, I think, but I don’t know what, he doesn’t talk to me…and she doesn’t talk to me, either.”

“She’s sixteen, they’re like that,” Nie Mingjue said, trying to offer comfort, but he didn’t like the sound of that – Wen Ruohan growing reliant on the medical skills of a teenager, talking with her as if she were an adult…it didn’t speak well to the Chief Cultivator’s state of mind. “So she’s going to go spy on them?”

“She is. And maybe more. There’s – there’s something back in the Nightless City, something Sect Leader Wen is refining in order to increase his power. Whatever it is, it’s powerful and evil.” Wen Ning looked paler than usual, somehow. “It was something that was kept in a cave near our village when we were younger, once. Sect Leader Wen took it away to study, and it made something go crazy, I got hurt, and my parents – anyway, it doesn’t matter. I can’t go near it without losing my senses, so I really don’t know anything about it. But I know that Sect Leader Wen only has a piece – and the Lan sect has another.”

Lan Xichen had never mentioned such a thing, but then again, he wasn’t really old enough that Nie Mingjue would expect him to know everything about his sect – he was after all a full five years younger than Nie Mingjue, three years younger than Wen Ning; he was still only seventeen, having only just graduated from his uncle’s classes the year before. He was only very technically sect leader, in the same way Nie Mingjue had only been technically sect leader after his father’s death, although unlike Lan Xichen Nie Mingjue had fought his way to step up to the task for real early on. He himself was only barely considered an adult at the age of twenty-two; it was no surprise that in the Lan sect, which had Lan Qiren to rely on, Lan Xichen might not know it all.

Or perhaps he knew, and simply didn’t say. Each sect was entitled to its secrets.

“What are you thinking?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“I’m thinking that my sister is constantly afraid for me, even though she’s younger than me,” Wen Ning said solemnly. “I’m thinking that she will break her own principles into pieces to protect me. I’m thinking that she’ll find whatever it is, or find a hint to it, and then Wen Chao will take his forces to burn the Cloud Recesses to the ground in search of it.”

Nie Mingjue could see that.

He didn’t want to, but he could.

“My brother is attending those lectures,” he said blankly. Nie Huaisang was there right now. He could be in danger – no, he would be in danger. Nie Huaisang wasn’t a good cultivator, and at fourteen, he was just a baby. Nie Mingjue had sent Meng Yao with him, nominally as his attendant, but in fact to get the benefit of the classes himself and also bully Nie Huaisang into actually learning something – he’d brought Meng Yao into the Nie sect after Jin Zixuan, full of guilt over how his father had treated a boy only two years his junior, had sent him a letter beseeching him for help following Meng Yao’s public and humiliating rejection from Jinlin Tower – but Meng Yao was only sixteen, of age with Wen Qing; what could he really do?

Moreover, sending Wen Qing and not Wen Xu, even though Wen Xu was the same age as Nie Huaisang and Lan Wangji, indicated that Wen Ruohan didn’t want his more promising son to get involved in whatever it was that he was planning, or maybe in whatever consequences followed. If Wen Chao really were to try something violent, they couldn’t afford to have a weakness already there…

“I need to get A-Qing out of the Wen sect,” Wen Ning said, and Nie Mingjue turned to look at him in shock. “Permanently. I’ve begged her to go, but she won’t leave me, she won’t leave our family of the Dafan Wen, but she has to. Something bad is going to happen soon. I know it. I don’t mind trading my life for hers, but she has to live.”

“Is there any way you can go to the Cloud Recesses as well?” Nie Mingjue asked, his mind already racing. He’d long ago given up on helping Wen Ning because he knew the other man wouldn’t turn traitor against his family, being an upright and filial child, but if his family had reached such a depth of corruption as that, then it was only right to leave them behind. If Wen Ning was finally accepting that, maybe there was something he could do. “You’re sensitive to the – whatever it is. Right? Maybe Wen Qing can suggest bringing you around to help her find her way to it.”

“How would that help?”

“It gets you somewhere safe, while I can rescue Dafan Wen – without a threat to you or to them, your sister would have no reason to insist on staying,” Nie Mingjue said, though it wouldn’t be him, exactly, that did the rescue – he’d need a firm alibi lest Wen Ruohan use it as an excuse to start something with his Nie sect. He might have prepared for war as much as he could, but the Wen sect was still stronger; if war broke out, he needed to make sure that he had the moral high ground.

Luckily, Wei Wuxian, that walking calamity of a head disciple of Yunmeng Jiang, had of late developed the habit of wandering over to visit various other sects, including Qinghe (and Nie Mingjue in specific), at his leisure, and no one ever would think to blame him for such a strange thing as a subsidiary sect of distant Wen sect cousins disappearing.

After all, Wei Wuxian had no reason to know or care about the Dafan Wen, and everyone knew he abjured politics completely, violently and repetitively, so as to make no mistake about anyone who might otherwise see him as competition for the Jiang sect’s true heir, Jiang Cheng. The five-year gap between their ages kept them from being compared – you couldn’t expect a child, and at fifteen Jiang Cheng was still very much a child, to keep up with an adult just turned twenty like Wei Wuxian – but there had always been whispers given everything with Cangse Sanren, and Wei Wuxian had had to work very hard to put a stop to them.

Wei Wuxian’s wandering habit had started back when he’d been trying to find Jiang Yanli a new fiancée to replace the engagement he’d broken by fighting with Jin Zixuan, however shameful it was for him to fight with a boy two years his junior. It was for that that he had come to Qinghe to meet Nie Mingjue, leading to them hitting it off as friends despite Nie Mingjue expressing that he had absolutely no interest in getting married to Jiang Yanli, or indeed to any nice young lady at all; then, in turn, Nie Mingjue had brought him to the Lan sect to meet Lan Xichen. They’d gotten along as well, although the most notable outcome of that visit had been little Lan Wangji developing a crush on his elder brother’s new friend while Wei Wuxian remained blissfully oblivious. His wanderings had continued even after Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan had found their way back to each other, affianced once again through their own choice rather than their parents’.

Said parents had not yet been informed of this new situation, as they were waiting for the right time to mention it. Or perhaps more accurately, the right situation to exploit with it…

Now, Nie Mingjue thought. Now was the time. It would work perfectly.

And not just as a distraction.

“Are you sure…?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said. “Whatever it is, Wen Ruohan must be kept from obtaining all of the pieces; he’s already too powerful, and more power will only make him more arrogant. I’ll speak with Lan Qiren. Once I take the Dafan Wen back to the Nie sect, your sister will be able to testify to whatever it is that she was asked to search for, which will give Lan Qiren the evidence he needs to get his sect’s approval for retaliatory measures. Moreover, using Wei Wuxian to help me will force Jiang Fengmian to support me as well; there’s no way he’d ever refuse to back him to the hilt.”

“The Jin sect –”

“Will join us,” Nie Mingjue said, thinking of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan’s yet-to-be-announced engagement. Once Jin Guangshan realized that he would be pulled into the same boat as the rest of them whether he wanted to or not, any resistance he had would crumble like a structure made of sand being beaten down by the tide. “They won’t have a choice. Is there anything else I should know?”

“There’s a child,” Wen Ning said, biting his lips. “Around the same age as your brother or my sister, or maybe the Jiang sect heir, I don’t know, around that. He helps Sect Leader Wen with whatever he’s doing.”

“A child helps him?”

Nie Mingjue didn’t like the sound of that.

“I don’t know. Some secret his family knows, I think…his surname is Xue.”

Nie Mingjue frowned.

“I don’t know much about him,” Wen Ning added. “Only that he has some history with the Yueyang Chang clan. Bad history.”

“That’s a good start,” Nie Mingjue said. He realized that he hadn’t yet released Wen Ning’s shoulders, and gave them a small squeeze before doing so. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will do everything I can to help you.”

Wen Ning looked at him with admiration in his eyes, making Nie Mingjue feel a little hot under the collar.

“Thank you, Chifeng-zun,” he murmured, and Nie Mingjue shook his head.

“Call me by name,” he said, and tried to smile. “You’ll be here a lot in the future, if all goes well.”

Nie Mingjue hated the Wen sect, but he didn’t hate gentle and sad Wen Ning.

He didn’t hate him at all.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #wen ning #my fic #my fics #count your age #I know you said Yunmeng focus but this is what came out #sorry #full list of ages on the ao3 page

[kohakuarisaka]

Trial By Fire (chapter 2 of 2)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Hawks stopped by your apartment, asking for a patch up, and then asked for so much more.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Role reversal: Keigo is a villain and Touya is a hero. Liberties were taken with Hawks’ quirk and is non-canon compliant. This fic is not nice to Touya. Reader and Hawks smoke. Reader has a quirk. Reader is a female with descriptive female genitalia. This fic contains graphic sexual content, including penis in vagina sex, oral sex, spanking, dirty talk, biting, degradation, and knotting. Consensual ♥

Keigo’s appearance in this fic was inspired by this lovely art piece!

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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Todoroki Touya was a prince.

Being born to a top-ranking hero was almost the same as being born to royalty. Everyone recognized his name, his quirk might as well have been trade-marked, and he had lots and lots of daddy's money.

If that wasn't enough, Touya was incredibly handsome, too. He had a full head of stunning, bright red hair and beautiful, shiny blue eyes. His smile was charming and voice was hoarse and suave.

He was a skilled fighter, always topping the rankings at UA, the talk of all 'up and coming' news articles back in his teen years. His quirk was flashy and powerful, nearly unstoppable; but, he was also a dedicated hero that trained day in and day out to hone his combat skills.

The boy with the crimson wings couldn't have the fortune of being nobody. That would have been more preferable to his reality.

His father was a criminal, a thief and a murderer. His childhood home burned to the ground when an attempted arrest went horribly wrong, and resulted in half his body being permanently scarred by burns. But, no one would believe that a hero did that to a small boy, even if it was an accident. No, of course not.

No hero academy was going to accept someone with such a reputation, with a name like Takami, with a history of bloodshed, with the evidence smeared across his skin for all to see. He was in and out of foster homes for years before he could get his own place, funded by petty crimes and gang activity, the only way he could survive.

Touya was a prince-

-and Keigo was a gutter rat.

He wasn't the least bit surprised when you told him that Touya had asked you out, even less surprised when you told him that you said yes.

Of course you couldn't resist Touya. He was everything any girl could possibly want, and he could give you a hell of a lot more than Keigo ever could: fancy dates, lavish gifts, a nice family to go home to, a name with a shining reputation.

Touya could make you happy.

And so, Keigo stopped chasing you. He stopped hoping anything more would amount to your relationship. But, even if his life depended on it, Keigo could never stop wanting you, thinking about you, loving you. No one was like you, not by a long shot. No one understood him like you did.

But, you belonged to Prince Touya.

... ..

... ..

... ..

Hawks woke in a cold sweat, torn from a nightmare. He bolted upright, eyes scanning the room, panting lightly in a daze. His bare chest glistened with the evidence of his agony and his wings flexed out, feathers taut and sharped at the ends, defensive.

He glared at the unfamiliar walls, legs tangled in warm blankets. It took him just a moment to remember where he was.

There was a photo pinned to the wall by your desk: him and you at a spring carnival during your first year of high school. Your hair was longer back then and he had a black eye from a fight with some upper classmen.

The pillows and blankets on your bed were so soft and freshly washed, the scent of the fabric softener still wafting. You had dug out extra pillows and sheets for Hawks when made it clear he was intending to come around a lot more often.

Your apartment, your bedroom, your bed: that's where he was. The only thing missing from the room was you.

Hawks pulled himself out of a bed with a groan and snagged his sweat pants off the floor, where they had been discarded when he arrived. He decided to skip the underwear and just pulled the loose fitting pants on with a tired groan.

He didn't need to search the apartment to know you weren't inside. His feathers weren't picking up any vibrations from footsteps or breathing. It was too still, too quiet.

Confident of where you were, he opened one of the windows in your bedroom, nearest your desk, and shimmied onto the outer ledge, hoisting his torso through first before bringing his legs in until he was hanging outside. He kicked off the side, beat the air once with his wings to gain some momentum and flew up to the roof.

You let out the most undignified yelp when he floated up over the side of the building, bare feet toeing the edge where he landed, giving you an innocent, drowsy look.

"Holy fuck, you scared me," you hissed at him.

It was almost 1 in the morning, and you had slipped on a loose shirt and baggy shorts to head up to the roof for a smoke. Unsurprisingly, you were alone at this hour, able to enjoy the ambiance of the night without one of your neighbors mouth breathing or trying to strike up a conversation. They weren't bad people; but, you didn't want their company.

Even from up this high, you could hear passing cars, the soft squeaking of breaks and the occasional squeal of tires spinning on asphalt. Distant lights were constantly changing: traffic control, cars coming and going, people in and out of their crowded apartments.

"You're not cold?" Hawks asked as he approached you.

"Not really," you answered softly.

Despite that, Hawks flattened against your back. His hands dragged up and down your arms as if to warm them before winding around your waist. You felt more than saw his head droop over your shoulder. As he pressed in close, you felt what was his very shirtless chest fall against your back and the unmistakable outline of his cock against your behind.

"I see you didn't bother dressing," you scolded him, lacking any real malice.

"You like it," he challenged, reaching for your cigarette.

Before he could grab it, you brought it to his lips for him, turning your head to try and face him, despite the awkward angle. You watched him puff the end faintly before huffing out smoke away from you.

"Ohh," he hummed. "You bought the fancy ones this time."

"They're not fancy," you retorted gently.

He flapped his mouth, about to insist you let him buy the next pack. However, he caught himself, remembering how well it went last time. It had resulted in a fight, and you kicked him out, nearly pushing him out the window, not that he couldn't handle that, of course, and it was a funny memory, now that it was over.

Besides, if he was being honest, it was really hot when you yelled at him. Maybe not so much this time since it put him in the doghouse for a week. But, the makeup sex was definitely worth it.

You didn't want his money; 'blood money', you had called it. You adored him, maybe even loved him, wanted him, longed for him; but, you had no desire to take any of his dirty money.

You weren't delusional enough to think that that made you a good person, or somehow morally superior, not to Hawks, or anyone else for that matter. It was a choice that you had made for yourself, to try and get your life on the right track.

Maybe, letting Hawks into your bed was counter productive. He was a wanted villain, after all. Business could follow, even if he worked hard to prevent that. If Touya found out-

You shuddered at the thought, mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen. You didn't want to see Touya ever again, let alone talk to him; but, there was no guarantee that your paths would never cross again. Would he be mad? Would he try to hurt Keigo?

Sharply, you turned your head and kissed at his cheek, lips smearing across the burnt half of his face, as if trying to reassure yourself that that wouldn't happen. Hawks hummed, and you felt the vibration travel along his chest and throat and onto your skin.

"Don't burn your fingertips," he scolded you softly in a hoarse whisper, snatching your cigarette from the burning end.

You had been so lost in thought, you failed to realize the cinders were nearing your fingers, the flame having almost reached the end. You watched Hawks roll it between his fingers, drawing the paper into his palm where he crushed it. The flame died and he opened his hand, letting the wind carry the burnt remains away.

"Kiss me," you breathed, so wrapped up in the moment that you didn't care that you were outside.

He obeyed with a growl, hands grabbing at your waist harshly to spin you around. One hand flattened at the space between your shoulder blades, holding you tightly to his chest while he arched down and captured your mouth.

You heard and felt his wings beat the air, powerful and unyielding: an intentional display of dominance, most likely, that should have made your eyes roll and not your heart flutter. But, you had always been soft for Keigo, and this advancement in your relationship had only made that worse, until you became putty in his hands.

He clearly really liked to play with putty. It was bad enough that he was constantly twisting and turning your body to see what kind of positions he could put you in: something that you, unfortunately, found far more arousing than you should have. He loved to poke and prod, see what kind of noises he could get out of you. He also loved to see how far he could push your limitations.

"Baby," Hawks growled against your mouth, eyes hungry as he took you in.

"Let's be crazy," he suggested, low and hoarse, with a slight edge that made him sound like a stupid teenager again.

He tugged you in close, shamelessly rubbing his erection against your closed abdomen, and making his intentions known.

"Hell no," you retorted, smoothly, sure, but lacking in any real confidence in your rejection.

"Come on," he urged, hands and arms sliding away so he could skirt away from you.

You watched Hawks step towards the edge of the roof with the kind of confidence you would expect from a man that could fly. He casually sat down, rotated to sit longways, one leg spread out for balance while the other rested right at the edge. He leaned back, spreading one wing out along the gravely rooftop, while the other drooped over the side, feathers long and fluttering in the breeze like a crimson, tattered flag.

Hawks crossed his arms behind his head and laid back in full, looking boneless as he stretched out. He peered up at you with a wicked grin, eyes bright as they reflected the distant street lights.

"You're fucking ridiculous," you snapped at him, realizing too late that you were smiling dumbly at the shamelessly display in front of you. Your words lacked any real weight. Rather, you sounded amused or impressed, not angry.

God damn it.

"You love it," Hawks retorted with a soft laugh.

"No," you commanded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Come on," he urged, rolling your name off his tongue like it was a delicious, sinful delight. "It'll make for a great memory - great story. Tell all your friends you fucked some guy on the edge of the roof. No risk: you know I won't let you fall."

"I wouldn't say 'some guy', even if I had friends to tell," you said to him grumpily, settling a weak glare on the winged villain.

Hawks removed his crossed arms from behind his head, placed one hand on the roof for balance, and leaned up. His cocky expression was gone, replaced with something soft, almost nervous, like he feared he misheard you.

"You'd tell them it was me?" he asked.

"Obviously," you uttered back.

A genuine smile found its way onto Hawks' face. Maybe, he was more deceitful than you gave him credit for. Maybe he knew damn well that you couldn't resist that face, that smile that lit up your heart, those mismatched eyes. Only foolish girls let themselves believe nonsense.

Maybe, you could be foolish sometimes.

You approached Hawks and he leaned back, excitement clawing its way onto his face as he realized he was going to get what he wanted. You smacked his chest and he fell back with a rough laugh.

A slight tug pulled his pants down enough to spring his cock free, already fully hard and leaking against his abdomen. Some distant thought was that you should have been surprised; but, Hawks had proved to be quite the animal, with such a miniscule refractory period and ready to go without much persuading.

You carefully slid on top of him, one leg braced on the roof against his side, while the other dangled over the edge. The weightlessness had you reeling back with a frightened whimper. Hawks grabbed your leg and pressed it tight against his side, keeping you planted on his lap.

"I got you," he whispered soothingly. "I got you, baby. I won't let you fall."

The bastard could fly. He was used to feeling weightless, to feeling nothing beneath his feet. You were not, and the very real risk of slipping over the edge was ever present when you felt the breeze, felt the lack of something beneath your heel.

However, when you planted yourself on Hawks, who was partially dangling over the side, you felt grounded. He felt sturdy and strong beneath you, no fear in his posture, arms and legs firmly planted, wings spread out to balance himself. He wasn't waddling back and forth with uncertainty.

It barely took you a second to relax, to feel safe when his hands gripped your thighs, holding you securely against his weight. Of course he could catch you; but, you doubted he would let you fall in the first place.

Sooner or later, you were going to have to learn to tell him no; but, that didn't have to be today.

"Have you done this before?" you dared to ask.

"Not with a partner," Hawks answered quietly.

You barked out a laugh at his answer, and watched a cheeky grin appear on the villain's face.

"What? Can a guy not jack off on the roof?" he barked.

"You're fucking horrible," you chuckled, slapping at his bare chest.

"I didn't splooge over the edge," he added on.

"You're ruining the mood," you scolded him.

Still, despite those words, and the obviously fact that he had in fact not ruined anything, you reached between your legs and grabbed at the hem of your shorts. They were wide enough that you could just pull them to the side-

Hawks choked on his next breath. You glanced up at his face. His head was angled down so he could steal a look at your sex so effortlessly becoming bare.

"Fuck," he wheezed, as if he hadn't seen you naked dozens of times by now.

Bare of underwear, fabric loose enough to just shift aside, you angled your hips until his cock caught on your folds. Hawks moaned when your wet slit trailed across his length, literally dripping over him.

"-ooohh, you're wet," he hissed softly, sincerely surprised at the discovery.

"You fucked me just a few hours ago, you animal," you retorted smoothly. Your level tone contrasted sharply with the sudden whimper that escaped you when his tip hooked on your entrance.

"Heh. Made you scre-"

Ah, you loved when Hawks gave you perfect opportunities to cut him off. You shifted your hips and sank down, enveloping his length in moist heat, and Hawks' words dissolved into a weak moan. There was no ache, as you were still prepped from earlier, likely still leaking some of him, as well.

Hawks wasted no time laying a hand against your lower abdomen. His thumb dipped between your folds and flicked skillfully at your pearl. The harsh texture of his calloused fingerprint had you whimpering and twitching. His other hand gripped your waist and guided you slowly up and down his length.

"Look down," Hawks instructed, not demanding, not crude, but soft and guiding. His eyes displayed a sort of devotion and hunger that had you helpless to do much other than obey.

Your eyes directed to the ground below, over sweeping floors, dozens of windows and a couple fire escapes. This high up, the ground looked so far away, cars like pill bugs you'd see waddling along the concrete at the community garden. Something electric shot through you, catching your breath in your throat, and Hawks let out a hoarse curse, hips shuddering.

"Fuck, you got tight," he hissed.

His hand let go of your sex and lifted up to cup your face. He turned you to face him, nudging your cheek lovingly with his knuckles. Immediately, you realized, it was his burnt hand.

You turned your head to kiss at his skin, tinged red from thick scar tissue and wrinkly. Slyly, he dipped his thumb into your mouth, the same that had been dipped beneath your folds.

"Don't be scared. I got you, baby," he cooed while you sucked the digit clean.

You smiled and laughed softly, popping his thumb out of your mouth with a lewd, wet noise. "Normal people are scared of heights, pretty bird."

"You're special," he protested, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip.

That praise had your heart fluttering, and you mentally scolded yourself for acting like a school girl.

He pressed down and dipped his thumb back inside, coaxing your tongue out until it lulled over your bottom lip. Normally, you swatted his hand away when he did things like that. But, it was difficult to resist when he was looking at you like that. One gold and one milky eye took you in with a heated gaze while he gently panted through slightly parted lips.

"That's a good girl," he praised, dragging the pad of his thumb over your tongue.

You likely looked ridiculous like this, impaled on his lap with your tongue hanging out. You almost wanted to smack him and tell him to quit; but, Hawks' hand retreated before you could tell him off.

That same thumb returned to your pearl, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure. He lifted his lips a little, encouraging, the corners of his lips threatening to break into a pleased grin. You gently moved along with him, finding harmony in a steady rhythm that had pleasure sparking at your guts.

Your eyes wandered, taking in his aroused expression, exploring the plains of his muscular chest, across the burnt skin on one half of his body, to the red feathered wings that jutted out from behind him. You didn't look over the edge again; but, the sounds of the city were ever present, reminding you of where you were.

"Someone could see," Hawks suggested darkly.

You shuddered, head lulling back, and let out a weak moan. You didn't consider yourself much of a voyeurist; but, that was oddly exciting. You were covered up well enough. They wouldn't see much of you, but the act couldn't be mistaken for anything but what it was.

Hawks shifted his hand away from your pearl and grabbed at your hip, long fingers curling around the thickest part for purchase. You didn't have a chance to consider the lack of stimulation before one of his feathers replaced his thumb, twirling and flicking insistently at your nub.

You moaned again, and let yourself go partially limp, somewhat held up by your hands braced against his chest, but more so by his stronger hands holding your center. You couldn't keep up with him, letting his hands guide you up and down to his length to his liking.

"-know how good it feels," he continued, some strain in his voice as pleasure spewed in his core.

He lost balance a little and the wing drooped over the edge flapped once. It wasn't particularly strong; but, it was enough to startle a jolt and soft yelp out of you.

Your hands slipped, and you were suddenly chest to chest. Hawks bent one leg to lift you higher on his lap, shifting the angle enough to bring him deeper and amplify the pleasure. His cheek slid against your neck and his lips met your jawline.

"You want them to know what a slut you are?" he snarled, less of a question and more of a suggestion.

The sensible side of you wanted to deny it. What good could possibly come of that? The feral side of you, that Hawks so expertly brought out, disagreed. You weren't ashamed of him. You were the happiest you had been in years. He made you laugh, he made you smile, and he made you come harder than you ever thought possible.

He kissed and bit a burning hot path across your jaw, drawing some loose skin between his molars beneath your ear, before wandering across your throat. He mouthed at your pulse, and the reality that he was a wanted murderer rang loudly in your ears.

You didn't recoil of fear or disgust. You moaned, loudly, arching your back and exposing one of yourself to him. He had to resist the urge to lift your shirt and bite at your breasts. If not for your modesty, than because your poor nipples had already been quite thoroughly assaulted not too many hours ago.

His dominant hand slid up your thigh, long, thick fingers effortlessly venturing up the leg of your shorts. He curled his hand around the back and dragged the pad of his finger along your union, gathering slick and remnants of his earlier venture.

Your cloudy thoughts didn't consider what he was doing, until that finger, now wet and slippery, was suddenly circling your other hole. That had you letting out a confused gasp. He didn't press in, just traced the tight ring of muscle curiously, and took your noise positively.

Hawks knew well enough, but the mischievous glimmer in his eyes gave it away.

"Aww. Did Touya never touch you here?" he teased.

He pressed in slightly, being answered by your muscles flinching tightly, if your lewd expression didn't tell him enough. You looked confused, maybe even a little annoyed, but the arousal was still present, thick behind the glare you tried to give him.

As inviting as the heat was, he didn't venture beyond the pad of his finger, which felt like a lot more than it actually was. It didn't hurt, but it didn't feel good, either. You didn't know what to make of it, but found yourself arching into the touch, and downright mewling when he slipped out and returned to circling the ring of puckered muscle, which surprisingly did feel good.

"O-obviously, that's not-" you hissed at him.

Still, through all his teasing and adventuring touches, his hips never ceased, forcing his cock into your sopping wet cunt again and again. The wet, fleshy sounds was loud enough to drown out the bustling city beneath you.

"No more than this," Hawks promised in a hoarse whisper, hot breath fanning out over your throat.

His fingertip eased back in, met with blistering tight heat, and you let out a strange noise, confused and perhaps a little discomforted. No, that was definitely not a place you were used to being touched. But, he wandered that territory carefully, ever akin to your desires. As new as it was, there was no denying the way that touch made your skin prickle.

"You like it," he observed slyly. "Dirty girl."

It probably would have sounded more teasing if he didn't already sound so debauched, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to touch you as much as you enjoyed being touched. He had you wrapped around his finger. That much was certain. But, you weren't oblivious to the power you held over him.

"Keigo," his name slipped past your lips, breathless and dripping with lust. It wasn't really forced; but, you were intent on getting a rise out of him. "Keigo," and again. "Oh, Keigo," and again.

His teasing finger stopped and his hand shifted to grab at your meaty behind with an almost bruising grip. His pace was suddenly punishing, bouncing you in his lap almost ferociously while his hips pivoted to chase the sensation. He had you wheezing out breathless moans while he grunted and snarled beneath you.

"Close," he suddenly grunted, the word little more than a rumble in his throat.

"Yes," you agreed, deliriously high on the pleasure he pummeled into you.

It was impossible to know how he managed to hold off long enough to get you there first, or if it was specifically the tightening of your walls that got him there. You were mewling and twitching long before he howled out, and the heat of his seed burst inside you.

He was making a mess. You could feel it dripping down your thighs, sputtering out from his thrusting and leaking over his abdomen. Hawks didn't care, obviously, turning his head to kiss greedily at your mouth while his hips kept moving.

When he pulled back, you found yourself disappointed at the realization that he hadn't knotted. However, there was no way you were going to say that out loud. His ego was swollen enough already.

Careless to the mess, he lifted you off his length and helped you to your feet before adjusting his wet pants to at least clothe himself. Your combined fluids had made a mess all over the crotch of his pants, no doubt worse now that he tucked himself away. Your shorts were no better, and you could feel his seed leaking down your inner thigh.

The high wasn't quite over and Hawks was sporting an attractive red tint along his shoulders and chest, blonde locks an absolute mess. Still, at this moment, your focus was solely on getting back inside and cleaning up.

"You're the worst," you scolded him, sounding incredibly fond despite your insult. You took his arm instead of his hand and guided him back into the building.

Hawks swallowed a laugh and, together, you stomped noisily down the stairs. No one passed you by. If anyone spotted you, it went unnoticed. You hardly needed to drag Hawks, who was right on your tail. As soon as the door was opened, he pushed you inside, one arm wound possessively over your waist.

"Keigo!" you whined, flinching when his head ducked into your neck and gnawed at your skin.

"You got me riled up," he growled, pressing into you so you could feel how hard he still was. The sticky mess of his wet pants felt gross; but, you couldn't be bothered to care.

You wanted to tell him off; after all, you had done nothing, and he had done that to himself. But, you felt a tinge of discomfort at your core, aching and eager to be filled again. Your clit throbbed between your thighs, eager for more contact.

Hawks manhandled you onto the nearby wall, taking you by the elbows to plant your hands on the smooth surface. You didn't hesitate to make your consent known, arching your back and propping up on your toes as he roughly dragged your shorts down.

The fabric pooled at your feet, leaving your oozing sex presented to him. Your felt and heard his wings flap, so widely that they smacked against the walls in the small space. Knowing full well what he was doing, the sudden intrusion wasn't quite as surprising; but, still, he managed to force a startled moan out of you.

"Fuck," he snarled, forehead falling against your upper back.

His dominant hand reached around, circling your pearl as he found a steady rhythm. His seed from earlier oozed out, and it was equally disgusting as it was amazing. His free hand gripped your hips, holding you still so he could use you to his liking.

It felt amazing, and each shift of his hips punched a broken moan out of you. It didn't take long for you to feel it, the swell at the base of his cock, catching on your entrance, slowly working you open to take his growing knot.

"You want that, don't you?" he uttered harshly, tilting his head up to breathe the words into the space right above your ear.

Even though it was unnecessary, he made his point clear by shoving it all in, as deep as he could, and grinding, rolling his hips to let you feel the swell at the base.

You removed one hand from the wall, curved your arm back and reached blindly, skillfully finding his hair. Your fingers grabbed a fistful, rough but not enough to hurt him. Hawks snarled when you tugged him in, nails gently biting into his skull.

"You better," you whispered, demanding and hoarse, and apparently delicious enough that he had to stop his thrusts and tilt his head in for a kiss.

Suddenly, the closeness was everywhere, back to chest, thigh to thigh. You tilted your head back to make it easier to reach, and let Hawks kiss his way into your mouth possessively, first with soft lips before his tongue edged the soft skin apart. He dragged along your teeth before trailing your palate like he was tasting something divine.

Eventually, he was satisfied, parting from your lips with a loud pop, licking his own lips as if he had just enjoyed a delicious meal. He carefully peeled back, cock slipping free from your heat, hands letting go when he was confident you wouldn't fall.

An open palm collided with your behind, and the sound echoed around the apartment, drowning out your surprised squick.

"Get on the fucking bed," he all but snarled, the words clawing out through gritted teeth.

Your legs, steadier than you expected, carried you to the bedroom. Hawks, however, tackled you onto the mattress before you could make it, forcing you onto your back with his weight.

He chuckled into your skin and you squealed with laughter. Despite the impact, he was surprisingly gentle, mindful of his strength. Crimson wings flapped, nearly smacking into the ceiling. You briefly feared that he would get hurt on the ceiling fan, but immediately determined that he would be more likely to break it than be injured by it.

He peeled your shirt off, leaving you nude beneath him.

"I've made you such a slut for knots, hm?" he observed, leaning up on his knees to hover over you, and give you quite the view.

His cock was an angry shade of red, thick and heavy where it hung between his legs, almost tinted purple on the tip with the need for release. He had just a moment ago, and it made you wonder if the lack of knotting left him unsatisfied.

The beginning swells of his knot was an enticing girth right at the base, stretching the velvety skin of his shaft, and also tinted a dark shade of red. He was glistening all over, the tip oozing pre as if he hadn't come just a moment ago.

"-and I've made you a slut for me," you teased back, carefully placing your legs on either side of his waist.

He skillfully slipped into you with a pleased snarl, body slotting over yours carefully. He might not have been a giant, but Hawks was still bigger than you, enough to shadow you and leave you feeling small. He rolled his hips slowly, giving you a taste of that swelling before he began a steady rhythm.

Noises punched out of you, whimpers and moans and broken sounds that were almost his name. He balanced on his forearms, one on either side of your head to cage you in, while his legs planted on the bed and his tense abs did most of the work.

"So fucking good. Gnhnn - I don't deserve you," he babbled, uttering the words harshly into the space above your ear, tickling at your hair. "Beautiful and f-fucking perfect."

Hawks was a talker with almost no exception; but, still, despite having heard it all many times, he still managed to get a rise out of you, sweet nothings that made your heart flutter and skin prickle.

"Say you're mine," he demanded, tilting his head down to gnaw gently at your throat.

You swallowed, managing to catch your breath long enough to utter weakly, "'m yours, Keigo."

He lifted his head and dragged his forehead along your temple, huffing out dramatic breaths with each thrust of his hips. A bit more experienced now, you knew when he was close, when the catch became almost too much, the fullness dizzying and almost frightening. Your eyes fluttered open long enough to see his lustful stare, admiring the beauty of pleasure etched across your face.

You dragged your nails down his back, crying in ecstasy when the sparks ignited and pleasure soared through your core. Hawks' dominant hand roughly grabbed a fistful of the sheets, a frustrated grunt bursting from his throat before he roared, likely loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

His thrusting ceased, less he timed it incorrectly and missed this. You made a very distinct noise at the intrusion, the same sound every single time, and it echoed so loudly in his mind. He felt overwhelmed with pride, that he could make you make a sound like that, so utterly debauched and in beautiful ecstasy.

Hawks' own moans, that came out of him like a chuffing tiger, were drowned out by your delicious whimpering. If the fullness wasn't enough, his cock jerked and spurted thick, hot streams of his seed. You could feel each twitch, until he shifted forward, as deep as he possibly could go, and finally stopped.

The muscles of his knot tightened as they finished expanding, locking your cores together. Hawks' head dropped and smacked onto the sheets by your ear. You tilted your head back, nose pointed towards the ceiling as you panted, and felt his rough, staggered breath as it burned your throat.

You felt more than heard the rumbling of his chest where it pressed down on yours. It was unmistakable: the sounds of a satiated beast. The thought had you stuttering out a breathless laugh.

Hawks' nose nudged your cheek and he hummed questioningly.

"You're purring," you answered softly.

"Oh," he answered bluntly.

Luckily, he didn't try to stop it; or, he was consciously unaware of it. Either way, you hoped he wouldn't stop. You loved the sensation of being trapped with him, impossibly close and stuffed like a used sex toy. Just as much, you loved knowing that he was pleased. Shameful as it all was, he had a way of making you feel shameless.

"Baby," he cooed, voice soft and breathless, a little hoarse, like a dying engine. "Are you okay?"

Your arms and legs were still around him, clinging tight like you didn't want to let go. You were strung out and limp, sinking into the sheets, head lulled back and clearly, very pleased. Still, Hawks kissed at your jaw like he was uncertain.

"Are you okay, pretty bird?" you repeated back to him, turning your head to meet his lips with your own.

He kissed you back as opposed to answering, the soft rumbling continuing until you felt it in your own throat. One of his hands tangled in your hair, kneading gently at your skull. Eventually, he peeled back and stared down at you, mismatched eyes unwavering, like you were a specter that would disappear if he glanced away.

He was the one who would be gone in the morning, leaving only an ache in your tummy to remind you that he was here.

But, you knew he would come back.

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