#although i think having a medic who IS interested mainly in helping is very important that's basically necessary to win

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

K so im seeing the latest "discourse" and my noisy ass just has to butt in, so as a regular medic player i'll give my two cents. I do not normally touch support classes but since medic is my fave i ve forced myself to get good at him and i have decent skill and hours on him but goddamn do i NOT enjoy playing him like more than 50% of the time💀 as u said ze healing def ISNT as rewarding as ze hurting so i kill as much as i can whenever i play him to give me just a bit of dopamine

i started out w the crossbow but bc u def DO need aim and projectile prediction i stopped using it altogether since medic is like multitasking 958474 things every second so if im already stressed theres no guarantee i wont miss my shots. instead i heroically take the -2 hp regen penalty and main the blutsauger cuz its saved my ass way more times than the crossbow. like from my experience in medium range i would die quicker if i missed my crossbow shot and waited for it to reload as opposed to raining down syringes on my pursuer who will idiotically chase me down until he eventually dies. while you def do need aim for the syringe guns too i'd say its so much easier to lead your targets around due to the projectile delay rather than trying to desperately hit a crossbow shot on a scout thats doing circles around and above u💀

Dont get me wrong this isnt me shitting on the crossbow it can work AMAZINGLY with a coordinated team who communicates w eachother but since in casual this is arguably a miracle, i ve learned the hard way that i cannot rely on my teammates for long enough and you should def NOT JUST RELY on ur heavies and soldiers to protect ur ass at all times. imo if u as a medic arent able to hold ur few as best as u can given the situation sounds like a skill issue as in. i absolutely hate the "soft uwu WAHHH MY HEAVY LEFT ME FOR 0.0001263 SECONDS TO GO TO SPAWN FOR AMMO💔" stereotype of medic mains i truly do. relying on and pocketing a heavy doesnt always work out from my experience anyway but thats a whole other can of worms💀

This is soooo real Medic kinda sucks to play if you're into killing people yourself and not just helping other people kill. I actually like the Crusader's Crossbow for assault because I'm a freak I have decent projectile prediction AND it doesn't have as much of a fucking ARC which the Blutsauger has and which I hate. The Blutsauger ONLY works in mid-to-close range and I like hitting things from far away so it's out. As I write this I realize that what I want, a primary single-shot weapon for long range and a secondary rapidly firing weapon with a larger clip for mid to close range is literally just Sniper. I don't like playing Medic because I cannot efficiently turn him into Sniper

#although i think having a medic who IS interested mainly in helping is very important that's basically necessary to win #ask #anon #tf2

[kusokurae01]

y’know, I somewhat recall you saying you had your own J&H adaptation, Any fun facts about it itself or J&H? (You give me asks I’ll give you one right back)

Hello, although I only have the 0,1% completed which is like, a summary of eight/nine months of work, I am still very excited to share my little alternative universe; it takes inspiration from many other adaptations, mainly the musical and The Glass Scientists. A lot of things are placeholders for something bigger and completely original, and it's supposed to blend with actual history, meaning that in some way it is historically accurate at some extent, considering I am making extensive researches about the Victorian Era and how it works, with the help of books and articles online. It's quite hard to make it 100% accurate of course, but most Jekyll and Hyde adaptations tend to ignore the fact that this is set in a very specific period of time, and they also tend to focus more on which character sucks the most dicks rather than the original message(s) of the novella. I don't like stories which solely focus on the characters being queer and that's clear, and while LGBTQ+ is included in Apotheosis, that doesn't mean that its the main focus; sure, it is talked about, but it's a part of the story and not the main story. I'm not saying that there should be a correct way of writing adaptations, but rather, that the world should feel alive and dynamic. It is important to establish worldbuilding, and make it a present part of the story, because it SHAPES the characters. I think that whilst you do not need a degree in history to write about J&H or the victorian era, it's important to know at least the basics of how the society worked, the advancements and how they affected society, etc.

Now, the victorian era is quite interesting when it comes to progress. In 1879 the first psychology laboratory was established in Germany, and many other advances in medicine were made, there were the first feminist movements, the two industrial revolutions (second in 1870-1914), what I'm trying to say is that the 19th century is a very important period of our time, at least for eurocentric history, and it's so curious to think how some of these inventions are just two centuries old. Not to mention that by 1888, the Bloody Code (which was how the severe law system of England was called, which focused on social punishment rather than rehabilitation, and the death penalty was very common even for lesser crimes by public execution) had been largely replaced and the death penalty wasn't in use anymore. The world was changing and advancing, and what does that mean for the most conservative classes, especially those who were in high favor to such horrible practices, especially when towards the lower and most despised classes? What does it mean for the poor and ostracized, especially considering the precarious conditions of orphanages, poorhouses and such? Fun fact: this was one of the battles the Crown itself, or rather, Queen Victoria, as a woman and mother, advocated for this, especially when most of its components were children, which were there for various reasons. And what about the emerging middle classes, the so despised noveau nobillty?

Medicine was both revered and feared, because while advancements were made in medical science, many treatments were still primitive and often painful. Additionally, the lack of understanding about germs and proper sanitation led to high mortality rates in hospitals, contributing to a general fear and distrust of medical practices among the public; not to mention that writers were starting to talk about the dangers of medicine (ex. Frankenstein), not to mention that there was the Royal Society that, while it promoted scientific inquiry, knowledge and collaboration, it certainly would've found itself debating about the inclusion of rogue science as effectively, a science.

It is important to know the rest of the hystorical context in which Apotheosis finds itself in, which is that of a very important migration of citizens from Ireland to London (including jews who were fleeing from the pogroms, popular riots against religious minorities which were happening in the Russian Empire), and all of them gathered in the East End of London, where Whitechapel was. It didn't take long for overpopulation (which was already a recurring issue in London) to happen, and for Whitechapel to be redeemed a generally unsafe place like all the other slums, not to mention all the popular disorders and the increase of violent repression from the London Metropolitan Police (ex. Bloody Sunday, which caused at least two deaths, it was basically a manifestation in which the Social Democratic Federation advocated for the end of unemployment, better working conditions and a right to vote for all adult men, other than supporting the Irish National League against the oppression the british were putting them through); it's in this context, that from august-november of 1888, Jack the Ripper terrifies London; 16 are the suspected victims, 5 the ones which had been confirmed, but what if I told you that there is actually more to this tale, when people thought that the Ripper was still amongst them due to how ineffective the police system was at the time, and that some murders associated with him weren't actually the Ripper's doing?

General Lord Glossop, a member of the council which oversees the Royal Society, was found dead after attending the funeral of His Grace, the Bishop of Basingstoke. The body was found the next morning, January 1889; the method of killing appeared to be strangulation as confirmed by trained medical professionals. This was the second governor who happened to die under mysterious circumstances which, were associated with the Ripper itself, as the methods were basically the same. On December 1888, the body of an unidentified underage prostitute and the terribly mutilated corpse of His Grace, the Bishop of Basingstoke, were found in the streets of a London slum, following the same criteria of that which seemed to reflect that of Jack the Ripper.

A member of the Marchetti family, Miss. Maia Marchetti, requested an immediate revision of the autopsies to prove that the killer wasn't Jack The Ripper, but rather another unnamed man who yet had to be caught; she founded her thesis on the two, crucial facts that the murderer had only ever killed members of the aristocracy and one single prostitute for the sole fact that she could've potentially acted as a witness for the case, and there wasn't any fury exhibited towards her corpse, and Thomas Bond (profilier of Jack The Ripper) stated that the Ripper didn't have any anatomical knowledge, and the body appeared to have been mutilated with such a precision which could only belong to those with a great anatomical knowledge, possibly a doctor.

On another note, she had managed to gather ten prostitutes together, who worked in the same zones where the homicides happened, to declare in a written letter to Scotland Yard, that an unknown, violent and unpleasant man with an odd fascination with sadomasochism, had been with them. However, this request was denied, and the letter archieved, until the inspector on the case Scott Newcomen presented the same thesis, thus obtaining a revised autopsy report, this time conducted by Dr. Hastie Lanyon, who brought some interesting discoveries to the table. It is important to note to the case that, the two men had died because of a basilar skull fracture, while the prostitute seemed to truly have died because of strangulation, like it had already been ascertained.

Due to the sheer brutality of the murders and the fact that they involved members of the aristocracy, the media was following this case with great attention, and reporting on it extensively (and of course great pressure was put on the authorities to solve the crimes quickly). Considering that this man happened to principally target members of the upper classes who had a significant role in society, save if there were any eye-witnesses, speculations that these might be murders made for socio-politic reasons committed by a member of the lower classes, seeing the location and circumstances, caused heightened tensions between social classes.

Other members of the council, such as Lady Beaconsfield and Sir Archibald Proops, perished under the same circumstances. An interesting parallelism is that many unreliable letters were sent to Scotland Yard and to Central News Agency; some were written by well-intentioned citizens, providing information towards the capture of the killer; however, the majority of them were deemed useless and consequently ignored. Hundreds of letters were written by people claiming to be the killer, and although this letter wasn't redeemed important and considered a fake, and consequently scrapped, a letter had been signed with the name Edward Hyde. And that's how people started to identify the man. Another letter described the man as someone who had a rancid aura around him, with an area of deformity which couldn't be quite explained by any actual malformations; he had long, golden locks. And unfortunately, these were the only small details which also happened to have been confirmed in the first letters those ten prostitutes wrote. A first rough identi-kit and criminal profile was made by Dr. Hastie Lanyon.

The slayings were the handiwork of a solitary individual, a robust young man aged between eighteen and twenty-three, possessed of a brazen yet unflappable demeanor, bearing obscure physical anomalies difficult to discern. Though yet too youthful to grace the circles of high society, Edward Hyde presented himself in attire befitting a gentleman of esteem, maintaining habitual visits to dens of iniquity, whilst displaying a remarkable acumen in matters anatomical, suggestive of a scholarly pursuit, perhaps that of the medical sciences.

The fact that it was clearly a member of the aristocracy seemingly fell deaf to the ears of the media, which constantly sidetracked the police investigations, misleading them and accusing innocents of being Edward Hyde and fabricating evidence with the excuse of pursuing justice, when in reality this just caused more social disadvantages and disorders which ended with popular uprisings; an interesting phenomenon to note, is that of many women sent romantic letters to those who were suspected to be Edward Hyde, and many visited the locations in which the murders happened in hopes of meeting the Prince of Disaster.

#.txt #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde

[c-schroed]

With season eight of Within the Wires fresh on the air for the next nine weeks (I guess), I though it would be nice for me to write another podcast review. But as much as I love Within the Wires in its entirety, I have the strong feeling I would not give it justice if I just made a review of its so far seven seasons as a whole. Because (a) they are very different from one another; with every season having new voices and a new tone and atmosphere and (b) the seasons need not to be heard in the order they were produced, one can skip seasons or listen to more interesting ones first.

I mean, I'm not perfectly sure about this, because I have listened to the show in its original order. But I think that at least after season three one can really choose freely. Season one sets the mood, and seasons two and three tell you most you need to know about the alternate history of this universe. But we'll talk about this in a few weeks. Because I've decided to review one season at a time, always around sunday. Plus the book which premiered during season six, You Feel it Just Below the Ribs, then I should be done with my little project when the finale of the current eighth season is close.

So, without more ado, let's begin with

Podcasts I Adore - Within the Wires, Season One: Relaxation Tapes

"Are you breathing. It's important you remember to breathe."

Season one starts with a blast. With an image I never was able to forget again, one that would forever change my view of damselflies in particular and harming insects in general. And it started a motif that we'll encounter and reencounter in every installment of this series so far. And that was just in episode one, back when I still thought it was just some mockery of relaxation cassettes.

But episode two already told me there is more to get. That I will witness the unfolding of an escape plan, told entirely through smuggled in relaxation lessons. This is congenial on so many levels!

What I mainly love about this is that the authors, Jeffrey Cranor (of "Welcome to Night Vale" fame) and Janina Matthewson (who also worked on the BBC audio dramas "The Cipher" and "Murmurs"), are perfectly aware of the backgrounds of the narrator as well as her recipient. And it becomes clear very quickly that what we hear in season one is not made for our ears, but for a certain person in some weird kind of medical prison, with cameras and security nurses everywhere (I really love the word "security nurse" for all its ambiguity!). This whole found audio vibe is just perfect for podcasts, because it works with a high level of intimacy in a medium that's perfect for transporting this kind of closeness.

It is also a great way to put an audience directly into the action. Between narrator and recipient, explanations and expositions are not necessary at the beginning, thus the plot unfolds quite directly (for them as well as for us listeners) and with a unique kind of suspense, because the narrator knows that she must be very careful with how she smuggles in the information to the person she wants to help. She can't just plainly tell her plan. What she sends to her client must still at least on the surface seem like a normal relaxation lesson.

Plus, our dear narrator often cannot know exactly how her client will react, and if the plan will unfold as plotted, or if something will go wrong. And we listeners also have to wait until the beginning of the next episode to find out if all went well, or if there has been a setback. And what to do then. To me, "Within the Wires" is a show characterized by high variety of its seasons, and each season excels in another aspect than the other seasons. And for season one, this aspect clearly is how it transports suspense. No other season is as thrilling as season one (although season three sometimes came pretty close, for similar reasons).

The production of season one is flawless. The narration is done by one of the authors, Janina Matthewson, and the music that's added is diegetical, supporting the surface appearance of a relaxation audio cassette.

One does not learn too much about the world of "Within the Wires" yet, but season one still is a perfect introduction, because it demonstrates perfectly what this unique podcast is capable of. Which gives season one a head start of 8 out of 10 points.

My review of season two >

#within the wires #wtw #within the wires season 1 #podcast #podcast review #podcast recommendation #science fiction #drama #schroed's thoughts

[palbabor-writes]

Impetuous

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT/18+only, cunnilingus, switching, bratting, face-riding, Satoru being Satoru, so he’s chatty & in general the worst  

Words: 12,815

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

Notes: this thing has been languishing in my drafts since like, January. because it was my first step away from BNHA i’ve sorta over analyzed it & edited it, likely to death. but anyway, without further ado, here is my first venture into the JJK fandom! thank you for edits & suggestions: @albinoburrito, @kugutsuu​, @kogo​ & everyone else that i’ve forced to look at this thing. love you all sm & ty for putting up with me!

& it’s gojo because of course it fucking is. 

Impetuous im·pet·u·ous /imˈpeCH(o͞o)əs/ adjective done quickly

“I hate to be a harbinger of bad news, and I can understand your frustration, but that’s what they asked me to do. Doesn’t matter what continent we’re on, elders are elders. Honestly, I’m a little shocked that this teaching pathway is even an option for him.” Although you speak softly, your voice seems to carry more in these close meeting rooms, clattering off the tatami mats and gleaming leather couches.   

Yaga massages the bridge of his nose and adjusts his dark sunglasses before lifting his eyes to yours. “I understand, but I still feel that he would be an asset to our school. As long as his motivations remain pure, that’s all I can ask for, at present.”

“Pure or not,” you continue, lacing your fingers as you cross one leg over the other. “It’s vital to see how he handles himself on these missions. What if he has a student with him? I’ve never seen his fighting style, but I’ve heard he can be reckless. How can he foster confidence and proper growth if he’s not measured on the basics? There’s the additional worry of taking him off of the higher ranked missions. Or, if you elect to keep sending him on them, can he handle both? Can he teach and still be a successful sorcerer and asset?”

“He’ll be expected to do both. He knows this,” Yaga sighs, reaching for his lukewarm cup of tea. “While he’s not known for his conventionality, I don’t think that will interfere with his teaching. As I said, some recent events at the school have helped to illuminate the importance of managing the coming generation. Satoru is confident, and I believe that will translate well to any future students. He’s already taken on some responsibility with young Fushiguro and the boy is doing well under his instruction.”

“Fushiguro?” you ponder. Your school administration and the head elders had given you a list of names, people who represented the top families among Japan’s sorcerers, but you don’t remember seeing a name like Fushiguro among the others.

“He’s related to the Zen’in family,” Yaga explains, spreading his vast hands open as he replaces his tea cup against the low table that rests between the two of you. “So, if I’m understanding correctly, your superiors in America have sent you to Japan to collect a series of reports. One is on the influence of curses and how our alumni comport themselves in the field. The other is the analysis of our teaching styles and to, how did you put it, ‘further diversify your own teaching abilities as a jujutsu educator.’ And, as if that wasn’t possibly enough, to observe our newest teaching candidate, Satoru Gojo.” 

“In a nutshell,” you confirm, a smile quirking the edge of your lips. “We’ve got some missions lined up, right?”

“Yes. You will enter the field with Satoru and one other returning alumna, Shoko Ieiri. She’s finished her medical degree and will join our research facilities in the coming weeks.”

“Oh! She’s the one who can use the reverse healing technique! I’ve heard of her.”

“Yes. She was in Satoru’s class. I realize your report is the main aim that you have here, but I would ask that you keep an open mind. While your report is of value to our school, it will not affect my decision on the matter.”

You lean against the stiff cushions of the couch and cock your head at Yaga’s impassive expression. “Of course,” you assure him, noting that nothing in his outward appearance shifts as you give him the response he was waiting for. “Should be an interesting week, at the very least.”

“Oh,” Yaga replies, finally cracking a less than reassuring grin. “Satoru will make sure of that.”

“Hey! (L/N)-san! The next report is up and they’re sending a manager for us, hurry up! Stop scribbling things in that little notebook. What are you writing anyway? Is it some kinda biography? Oooh! Is it on me? Is that why you keep looking at me? It is, isn’t it? Ahh, now I’m gonna feel self-conscious.”

You snap your notepad closed and slip it into your hip pouch, stepping toward the two fellow members of your team. “It’s just routine notes and you don’t need to call me (L/N)-san. I realize it’s likely force of habit, but please, just call me (Y/N).”

“Ahhh! We’re already on a first name basis! I’m blushing. I’ve never had a girl be this forward with me!” Satoru sighs, clapping his hands against his cheeks and leaning over you. “You’re so bold!”

“Ugh,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Liar, and stop that. I’m still the senior sorcerer in this party. I–”

“But you’re just a grade 1,” he interrupts, bracing his hands on his hips and exaggerating his stance, moving his face close to yours. As he looms ever nearer, you raise your chin and hold your ground. This invasion of personal space is a tactic he loves to use. 

At first, you’d figured he was just another one of those guys who weren’t aware how intimidating their sheer height and presence came off to others. However, as the days wore on, you noticed his intentional maneuvering. He would press at Shoko too, but she was better at ignoring him, so he soon turned his full attention to you.

“Yeah, I might only be a grade 1, but they have given me the command on all of our missions. It’s my job to file the reports, a task that you, as the technical ‘junior party’, aren’t trusted to do.”

“You’re so right! That’s a tremendous responsibility. How do you stand under all that pressure (Y/N)! The role of the pencil pusher is such a big job. I should act right! Or I’ll never be a real jujutsu sorcerer! God, look at this Shoko, we need to get our shit together! At this rate, we’ll never be able to file our own reports!”

“Now, now,” you tut, raising a finger in front of your face, forcing him to take a subconscious step backwards. “Watch what you say, after all, you’re wanting to become a teacher. So some part of the masochism of endless paperwork must appeal to you.” 

Satoru’s smooth lips raise into a broad smirk and pulls away, arching his arms behind his pale head. “Hmm, I’ll give you that one (Y/N). Mainly because of your choice of wording. Masochism. What a word for it. And why’d you have to say it so straight faced? Oh, that reminds me, what time is our next mission at?”

“Uh, why did masochism remind you of that?” you pause, lifting your wrist so you can check the time on your watch. “I think it’s in two hours, give or take traffic.”

“Hmm, and it’s in the Chiba district?”

“Yeah, that’s in Tokyo, right?”

“It is,” Shoko chimes in, twirling a lock of her long brown hair between two of her fingers. Her low voice reminds you, and you turn to face her. “Speaking of names, I never asked, would you prefer Shoko or Ieiri?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replies, lifting her tawny eyes to yours, catching some of the bright sunlight as it fades into the deep circles under her eyelids. The contrast makes her skin look even more pallid. “First name, last name, whatever is easier.”

“Shoko okay with you then?”

“Sure,” she nods, the ghost of a smile lifting her lips. 

“Oi!” Satoru interrupts, slinging an arm over Shoko’s shoulder and fixing you with a pointed look. Or you assume he is, it’s hard to tell where he’s looking because of those white strips of cloth that obscure his eyes. “You know what’s in Chiba, don’t you?”

You blink at him, unsure if this is another one of his aimless questions or something genuine. “No. Should I?”

“You’re a tourist and you really don’t know what’s in–”

“We’ve already been over this Satoru; I am not a tourist,” you protest. “I’m here on official business from my administration to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, special, ‘top secret’ assignment or not, you’re still basically a tourist because it’s your first time to Japan. You’re honestly telling me you didn’t look up anything before you arrived?”

“Um,” you waver, eyes narrowing at the cheerful leer that’s drifting over Satoru’s angular features. “I looked up some basic things. I know about the Shinjuku and Roppongi districts. Oh, and Harajuku, that’s a big one too.”

“Mmhm, very good, my little tourist, but do you know what’s in the Chiba district?”

“Don’t call me that and stop screwing around Satoru. If this has nothing to do with the mission, then I’m not interested. I could care less what’s in the district–”

“Might just be rumors, but I’ve been hearing about an increase in cursed activity. Especially around that theme park. I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” he looks upward, pearlescent hair tumbling behind his wrappings. “I guess it’s not surprising that it’s a hot spot, what with all the people who are always checking it out. It’s pretty famous.” 

Tch. He’s not gonna tell you. 

You suck your teeth and twist your hand back to your hip pouch, digging for your phone. As you peer over the search results you can hear him rambling on about the notoriety of the unnamed place but as soon as you hit the second result, your head whips back up. 

There’s no way. 

Of course you’d heard of it, you’d even thought about it when the higher ups asked you to take on the assignment to Japan, but never, not in a million years, would you have figured that you’d have a chance to go. Not on this trip.

“Are you serious?” you breathe, blinking up at his smug face. Satoru doesn’t answer, just pops one hand under his chin and gives you a shit-eating grin. You look back at your phone and bite your lip, doing your best to contain your budding excitement, double checking the map for the district.

If he’s not pulling some kind of elaborate joke, it looks like Tokyo Disneyland is the location of your next mission.

“What… what the fuck is this, some kinda elaborate joke??” 

The gates to the amusement park are warped, and the paint is peeling; one side looks like it’s about to melt off of the frame, all twisted metal and faded rust. Just past the gates you can see what looks like an old merry-go-round, complete with lions, tigers, bears and several sets of horses. At the tip-top of the ride rest a star, and atop that star is a wraith like curse. It spindles around the flecks of gold and cool bronze, baring its teeth at the three of you and sputtering a long line of broken speech as it twists and turns. 

“Huh, still looks about the same. This place was enormous when I was a kid. Now it’s a trendy spot for ghost hunters and thrill seekers! I think five or six people died here last year.” Satoru grins, tucking his hands into his pockets as he strides forward. In seconds, he’s beside the curse on the merry-go-round, silencing chittering of its inane dialogue, letting an eerie quiet seep over the rest of the abandoned grounds.

“So stupid. I cannot believe I let him make me think we were going to Disneyland. You know what he’s like, Shoko! Why didn’t you tell me? He–”

“I honestly don’t listen to him. No idea he was making you think this was Tokyo Disney,” Shoko interrupts, already following the path Satoru took, tucking her brown hair behind her neck with a loose hair tie. “But since we’re here, could you lower the curtain and take care of those level 2 curses on the ticket booth?”

You let out a long sigh and toss her a quick affirmative, reciting the familiar incantation, watching as the darkening shield slopes its way down from the skies, sheltering the three of you within its haze.

The first set of curses are easy enough and you swiftly take care of them, unleashing your cursed technique and splicing them into faded dust. How ridiculous, you think, opening the door to the booth and dodging an ill timed lunge from a sneakier curse who was hiding inside. Satoru honestly had you thinking that you’d be going to the Disneyland theme park. On the way over, he’d even told you about the layout of the park and what potential curses might be lurking about. 

What a jerk. 

Still, you muse, turning toward another shrieking hulk of a curse that’s lumbering toward you, it’s impressive he’d led you on so easily. You make a mental note to get back at him later, for now you need to clear this area and focus on the task at hand. 

“I cannot believe that you led me on like that!” you pout, knocking back a small swig of beer.

“Pfft,” Satoru chuckles, wagging one long finger at you. “Didn’t ever say it was gonna be Disneyland, did I? You came to that conclusion all on your own.”

“Oh please! Making me look up what ‘famous tourist spots are in Chiba’ and then nodding each time I said I was excited to see some of the rides on the way over.”

“You could have really been into haunted carnivals. How was I supposed to know?”

“Ass,” you snap playfully, sticking your tongue out at his pleased smile. 

After the mission and spotting your peeved expression, Satoru had insisted that you let him take the two of you out for a drink. According to Shoko, the bar in this neighborhood was highly rated and had some of the best specials in the entire district. 

The place was packed; but somehow Shoko had secured three seats up at the bar top, ushering you to sit between her and Satoru, informing you there must always be a three foot buffer between her and ‘that loser’. The bartender seemed to know her and, before you could pull yourself into the worn leather seat, three foaming lagers were passed across the rough surface of the bar top, one for each of you. 

“Thanks,” you’d murmured, cupping your hands around the glass. On your right, Satoru pushed his lager toward you, raising two fingers at the distracted barkeep as he chatted with Shoko. “What’s wrong? Don’t like beer?” you’d asked, bemused by his disgruntled expression. 

“Nah,” he’d confirmed, wagging his digits a little faster, chin lifting as he let out a huffed exhale. “Messes with my eyes. I want something to eat, though. Hey! Shoko! Stop flirting with him and ask if they have anything sweet! Shokooo! Don’t ignore me!”

Shoko made a show of rolling her eyes but, a few minutes later, a plate of piping hot fried sweet buns appeared and he’d swiftly grabbed up one, popping it in his mouth and smacking it hungrily. You’d turned to ask Shoko what they were, but by the time you’d twisted back to Satoru over half of the cakes were gone. 

“Damn, you inhaled them,” you’d exhaled, a little shocked he could scarf them down that quickly.

“Well, they’re not bad and hit the spot, for now,” he’d grinned. “Want one?”

“I’m good. You might bite my finger if I get too close… mistake it for one of the buns…”

“Awe, what’s wrong? Think you wouldn’t taste good?”

“Yikes,” you laugh and Satoru hums, clearly pleased with your genuine mirth.

Shoko, who was soon engrossed in conversation with a few of the other patrons to the left of her, kept ordering rounds for the both of you. To keep up, you diligently sipped at each fresh beer, careful to keep abreast of the thrum of the alcohol with several responsible swigs of water. Satoru seemed content with his small order of sweets and peppered you with questions about life in America. He asked about what grade year you taught, the ins and outs of curses within the states and how you liked Japan. He kept things lively and made a point to throw in a few lighthearted jokes at you, beaming each time you laughed at his barbs. 

“So, what you’re saying is there’s no one in America quite like me?” he teases, stretching his long arms dramatically before leaning closer to you.

“Stop that! You’re gonna hit someone,” you grin, trying to shove at his side, watching as your hand freezes in midair, held off by his limitless technique. “Seriously? You’ve still got that on?”

“Mmhm,” Satoru intones. “24/7, 365!”

“You would,” you try to jostle him again, bemused by the fraying and shimmering sliver of infinity that rests between the two of you.

“It’s a tremendous strain on my brain, you know,” he bemoans, dropping his head and fixing a long frown over his lips.

“You deserve it.”

“Ack!” Satoru cries out, clutching at his heart. “Wow! No sympathy! You really gonna treat me like this? My senpai?”

“May I remind you - Tokyo Disneyland,” you intone, glaring at his haggard expression. 

“WOW. You’re never gonna let that go, huh?” Satoru cracks a face, arching his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, letting a high pitched, cracked voice leech from his lips. “Ahhh, that damned man! He deprived me of my dreams! The chance to see Tokyo Disneyland, one last time!”

“What is that? Me? But… old?”

“Pretty good, right?”

“No.”

“Well, I think it was uncanny!” he crows, nodding.

“What in your warped mind makes you think I’ll sound anything like that when I’m old?” you ask, pushing your empty beer pint forward as you purse your lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so excited over the idea of a theme park,” he ponders, tapping a bent index finger against his smooth chin. “Don’t you guys have them in the states? The Disney parks, I mean.”

“We do, we have two. But, since you made me think we were coming to Tokyo Disneyland, I looked up some rides,” you snatch your phone from the counter, scrolling through a few photos before you land on the right one. “Ah! Here it is! Look at this! See?” you chirp, pushing the gleaming screen of your phone toward him.

“Uh. What am I looking at?”

“It’s the Tower of Terror!”

“Which is… ummm… a ride?”

“Yeah? And look at it! It’s upside down! I don’t think the one in America does that,” your finger reaches toward your phone and you blow up the closest image, tapping at the bright colors. Satoru laughs and waves a hand up, attracting the bartender once more and gesturing for another beer for you. “Imma get you another drink, you’re fun like this, plus, you’re just too cute with that little smile.”

You miss his last comment, wholly focused on finding another set of images. “Oh my God! Look! During Halloween they have a night parade in front of it! And… ahhh! Satoru! There’s a green ghost at the top! It’s almost like that curse we saw tonight at the carnival!” 

His long fingers snatch up your bright device, and he yanks it away from your wide eyes. “Ok, that’s enough of that. I’m worried you might end up cursing me for not taking you.”

You give him a sour look and vainly try to grab your phone back, fingers unable to pass through his unseen barrier. “What? No fair! I still don’t understand how you can always have this up!”

“Practice,” he taunts, shaking his head at your determination and wandering touch, chuckling each time you bounce off of his cursed technique. “On another note,” he begins as your new lager is placed in front of you. “What’s in that report that you’re working on?”

You decide to ignore the fact that he’s still holding your phone and cautiously sip past the foam of your fresh beer, peering up at him, studying the lines of his white cloth. It doesn’t tell you much, so you look at his lips instead. They’re pale, but they’re held in a serious line, so you carefully construct your response. “What makes you think I have a report?”

“Why else would you be here?” Satoru counters, rapping his nails against the warped wood of the bar top. “I know you met with Yaga and you’re too cautious and overpowered to be sent on missions with Shoko and me. So you must be here for something else.”

“Officially,” you concede, “I’m here to observe the teaching techniques and skills of the alumni of your school. I’m sure this will come as no shock, but curses are getting more powerful, both here and overseas, and we’re doing our best to keep ahead of those changes. I’m supposed to pick up what tricks I can and bring them back home, to see how we can implement it.”

“Reasonable,” he allows, spreading his fingers before coiling them under his palms again. “But that’s not everything, is it?”

No, you think it’s not. 

You lower your beer and look over at him. He’s braced himself against the bar and his head is dipped so his chin is almost against his breastbone. He doesn’t exactly look dejected, but you can see that he’s thinking deeply and something about that openness makes your heart squeeze. He looks a bit like a kicked puppy. 

Ugh, he’s not a bad guy. He’s funny, and he knows what he’s doing, plus he has the confidence to get where he needs to go. In all honesty, he wouldn’t make a terrible teacher. Maybe not the best, but he certainly wouldn’t be the worst. 

“I–there… there’s some concern you’d be too divided - that it’s not practical to have you teach and go on missions. I also don’t think your own elders trust you much.”

“Ah-ha!” Satoru beams, springing upward and pointing two finger guns at you. “You are here to look in on me! Knew it!”

You can’t help but laugh at him. “Fine, fine, you got me. Let’s get this over with, huh? So we can get back to talking about things other than work, I liked that. What’s the most direct thing I can ask? Hmm, oh! I’ll start with something easy–Why do you want to teach?”

“That’s easy?” he whines, head falling again. 

“It’s straightforward,” you bargain, propping your chin on your fist, looking him over. 

“Sure, let’s pretend that’s not a deceptively loaded question! Alright, well, it’s the best way to change things.”

“Change things?”

“Yup. Like you mentioned, lately curses have become more powerful and lately it feels like I’m the only one who’s being sent on these high-level missions. Frankly, it’s stupid to rely on just me that much, you know? That’s not practical, or even realistic. So, to my mind, it’s vital I throw my support behind some of these up-and-coming kids. You know, foster the next generation and all that. I want reliable allies in the field and to have that, I’ve gotta make sure they’re taught right. Give them everything I know, make them better than me, stronger than me.” 

You’re quiet for a long breath, eyes wide, fingers frozen around your glass, which was midway to your lips. “Damn,” you smile, letting the word hang. “You know, that was actually a pretty good answer.”

Satoru clicks his tongue and curls his lips in a grimace. “Don’t sound so surprised.” 

“I mean,” you chuckle and look up at him, eyes bright. “Well, your attitude doesn’t always inspire confidence.” 

“Ahhhhhh,” he groans, thumping his covered forehead against the bar. “Such a low blow! Bartender! Another round for me!”

“Please,” you sigh, finally taking a sip of your beer. “Do not call your sweet buns ‘another round.’” He grins at you and leans across the bar top, shifting his weight toward your bent arm. The pressure of his shoulder is warm and you nudge at him a little, playfully. He tuts at you but continues to stare ahead, a faint smile teasing the edge of his lips. 

As the bartender slides the requested plate of sweets down, you suddenly realize that you’re touching him. Your eyes widen and you slowly turn your head toward his. He’s not looking at you, content with chewing on his sweet bread, but he’s still braced against you. It’s like all of your senses are finely tuned to that one spot of faint friction between the two of you. You can feel the lines of his muscled arm as he shifts and you involuntarily gulp, doing your best to ignore the abrupt thudding of your heart. 

He said he always kept it up, didn’t he? Something about 24/7 and all the days of the year, so why is he…

“Hey,” Shoko’s voice startles you and you instinctively slide closer to Satoru, arm dragging against his shoulder as you try to right yourself again. “I’m gonna go win this drinking contest these guys have started. You two sticking around for a bit?”

“Uh,” you begin, but Satoru cuts you off, draping an arm over the back of your chair. “Yeah, we’ll be here. What are the stakes?”

“Not sure. But the pot is likely against me, if you’re in a betting mood.”

“Sure, I’ll put 20,000 yen on you.”

“Is…” you start, but Shoko is already walking off, one arm pumped into the air as she shoulders her way to the long table that’s filled with five or six others, all of them holding a full pint glass of beer between their hands. You turn back to Satoru and let out a long breath. “Is that safe?”

“Huh?” he asks, face close to yours. You can smell his cologne from here and the heady scent of him and crisp patchouli fills your senses. “I mean Shoko, will she be ok?” you elaborate, eyes studying the space where his own would be, silently hoping that he’ll pull down the barrier that covers half of him from your curious gaze. 

“Ah,” he nods sagely, leaning back a little to look out at where Shoko is sitting, quietly waiting for the start of the game with her full beer. “She’s got a ridiculously high tolerance. Wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of her cursed technique. She’ll be fine.”

“True, she likely knows the limits of the human body better than anyone else. But… I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so… excited?” you muse, sitting against your chair and running into the flat palm of Satoru’s hand. For a moment, you debate shifting away, but he’s not really doing anything, just letting the tips of his fingers rest against the curve of your spine, tapping a disjointed rhythm as he watches the start of the contest, that all too familiar smile still tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“She used to be a little more laid back, you know?” he replies, leaning a little harder into your side as he lowers his voice, keeping close to your ear so you can hear him. “She always looks so tired now and her whole outlook has changed, but I suppose four years of med school will do that to you. Although, I did hear that she cheated her way out.”

“No!” you gasp, eyebrows lifted in shock. Satoru laughs, and for once, you’re not thinking it might be at your expense. “Yeah! Just the word on the street. But I wouldn’t put it past her. Shoko’s always done her best to avoid things, namely confrontation or extra work, so it makes sense she’d jet outta med school as fast as she could too.”

“That’s crazy and frankly, terrifying.”

“Riiight?” he shivers, lips raising in an exaggerated wince. “But that’s our Shoko. I’ve got a feeling she’ll do well at the school and I’m grateful I’ll have time to work with her again. It’s been way too long…” Satoru trails off and you can feel his hand slip up your back, fingers ghosting over your shoulder blades.

“Stop that,” you scold, shaking him off with a quick jolt and twisting around to look at his roguish smirk. “What happened to always maintaining your barrier?”

“Awe” he groans, dunking his head against your shoulder with a thump. “Come on, I’ve gotta win you over somehow!”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, I mean, I want the job.”

“I’m gonna hit you,” you threaten, doing your best to keep your bubbling amusement contained. 

“Try it,” he taunts, lifting his head and keeping his face close. His nose is inches from yours and you can barely make out his sharp grin, but you can feel the drag and pull of his breath as it passes over you, leaving a lingering sweetness against your skin. Instantly, your hand lifts to him, fully intent on shoving him back, but you can’t move any closer, trapped by the sudden emergence of his infinity. 

“Ass,” you prickle, shaking your head at his antics. Another peal of laughter falls from his soft lips and you can’t help but smile back, caught up in his infectious joviality. “Tch. Don’t make me find more Tokyo Disney pictures.”

“You can’t,” he informs you, cocking his head at your confusion. “I still have your phone.”

“Hey! Give that back!” you gasp, snatching blindly at him. He shifts back into his seat and yanks your device out of his pocket, waggling it tauntingly in front of you. “Uh-uh! Gotta get past the barrier first!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Never said that I’d make this… oh! Shoko! How did it go? Win me something?”

You twist and spot Shoko’s dark head approaching the two of you. She pauses beside Satoru and flips a large stack of bills down on the bar top, a wide grin on her usually impassive face. “As expected, I won. Here’s your cut, Satoru. Don’t spend it all in one place or on another order of sweet buns, would you? Think you can do that for me?” 

She and Satoru bicker back and forth playfully as you unfold several of the notes, aimlessly organizing them on the countertop as their brisk conversation winds back down.

“So,” Shoko murmurs, pulling a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket and knocking one free from the carton. “You two gonna head out soon? I don’t really see a need to call one of the managers, the school’s close by and so is (Y/N)’s hotel.” 

“Yeah,” Satoru replies, finally passing your phone back as he collects the neatly stacked set of yen from you. “Figured, I’d see her back.”

“I can find it!” you protest, jamming your phone safely into your pouch once more.

“Sure,” he mocks, arching toward you as he braces an elbow against the bar. “You can barely speak Japanese and I know you can’t read much kanji, but sure thing, let’s let you loose in the city. See how far you make it before you’re calling one of us, hmm?”

“That’s not… I–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Satoru waves his hand back and forth and turns back to Shoko. “I’ll let her finish her drink and then we’ll head out. See you tomorrow?”

Shoko nods at his question and, for a moment, you think you spy a knowing look pass between the two of them, but before you can call out to her, Shoko is already making her way toward the door.

“What was that?” you ask, eyes narrowed as Satoru looks down at you, white hair gleaming under the low lights. “What?” he asks innocently, propping his chin onto his open palm. “That look that the two of you just gave each other.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. You sure that beer didn’t hit you a little too hard?”

“Ugh, shut up.”

Despite it being late August, a cool breeze greets the two of you when you step out of the bar. “It’s so nice out,” you comment, readjusting your boots as you hop onto the sidewalk. 

“Mmhm,” he agrees, bracing his arms behind his head as you make your way down the street. “So did you decide what you’re gonna write in your report?”

You glance up at him and make sure he can see you rolling your eyes. “Back to trying to butter me up?”

“Never! Just asking. If you wanna say I’m crazy and can’t be trusted, that’s fine. I can think of a few others who’d agree with you.” 

“Oh? Who?”

“Most people,” he laughs, stepping a little nearer and bumping against you, shocking you with the actual weight and warmth of his body again. As you continue on, you lift your hand to his arm and press the pad of your finger against his sleeve. This time, nothing bars your way so you run the digit slowly along his arm, smiling when he shivers and bats you away. 

“Stop that! Someone’s gonna see and think you’re taking advantage of me!”

The laugh that explodes from your chest at that mental image makes you stop dead in your tracks, arms lacing around your shaking stomach. Satoru scoffs at your bent figure and leans down, shaking his head at your guffawing.

 “The… the… fact that you… think that anyone… would think that… I–” 

“You’re lucky your laugh is so cute,” he muses, bracing his arms over your bent back, playfully pinning you down as he crosses his forearms.

“Hey!” you protest, squirming under his hold. “Let me up!”

“Tell me what you’ve written about me!” he threatens, chuckling as you squirm under him.

“I only said that Satoru Gojo is an absolute monster and shouldn’t be trusted with anyone’s future,” you cry out, overly pantomiming your overwrought expressions, peeking up at him from under his laced arms.

“Oh? Just that? Well, you’re right. So, fair is fair!” Satoru replies, slipping off of you so fast that you nearly tumble to the hard concrete. Half a beat later, he’s back in front of you and lifting you back to your full height, fingers soothing over your arms as he tugs you toward him. “Would it kill you to toss in a bit of praise? Talk about my undeniable prowess and skill? Wax poetic about my stunning efficiency? You know, make them think that I’ve won you over with my charms. After all, you can’t resist me, can you?”

“Knock it off,” you huff, doing your best to ignore how your breasts press against the flat planes of his chest. Then his fingers are under your chin, gently tipping your head up and leaning so close that his lips are inches from your own. 

“But what if I don’t want to?” he teases, his voice falling into a lower, hushed pitch before he relaxes his hold, letting you slip from his hands.

A distant quake dashes up your spine, but it’s not from the chill in the air. “Uh, you sure you didn’t sneak some shots under the table? The way you’re pawing at me, you’d think you were the one in the drinking contest.”  

“Nah, I told you, I don’t drink. Messes with my eyes.” Satoru pats his index finger against his white wrappings for emphasis.

“Mmm, the six eyes, right? Powerful ability, from what little I’ve heard of it.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “It’s a rare technique. Wanna see?”

You’d walked on, but once the question leaves his lips your feet swivel back, as if they have a mind of their own. He’s standing where he was, hands dug into the pockets of his pants, a lazy smile resting on his lips. The moonlight makes his hair shine, and the gleam is bright against the darkness of the street. The glow makes him look taller, imposing. He’s quiet as he waits for your answer and you take advantage of the extra time to mull over the strange man in front of you. 

He’s enigmatic; a force to be reckoned with, for curses and fellow sorcerers alike and, like most jujutsu users, a little crazy. Even knowing all of this, there’s something about him that’s drawing you in. It’s like the pull of a magnet. It tugs at the forefront of your mind and makes you step closer, wanting to see if you can unravel the puzzle that’s Satoru Gojo. 

“Fine,” you hear yourself reply, crossing your arms, steadfastly watching for his next move. “Go on. Let me see what all the hype is about.”

He grins and that mischievous look makes your heart beat race against your breastbone as yet another quake slips up your back. “Ready?” he asks, right thumb hooking under the fabric that covers his eyes. You nod once and the pad of his finger starts that short, upward, pull. 

He’s slow, painfully slow, in his unveiling. 

The smooth angle of his upper cheek peeks out, and he’s careful to roll up the white cloth as he goes. Then, right as he hits the groove of his lower eye, he stops, a frown pulling over his lips. “Mmm, I don’t know…” he contemplates, holding his thumb under his wrappings. “What if I don’t live up to your expectations? Can’t let you down. Not when you’ve been so patient. I know you’ve been wanting to ask, I can see it in your face. Every time we’d start an exorcism you’d look at me, like you were waiting, watching to see if I’d finally take off the coverings.”

Did you? 

Does it matter?

Do you want it to matter?

Flabbergasted by his all too true accusations and entirely eaten up with curiosity, you march up to him and wrap your fingers around his raised wrist, not noticing that you’re actually touching him and completely unaware of the alluring smile he flashes when your hand coils around his. “Ugh, come on! For once in your life, stop being such a tease! You’re never fair, always so… so pompous and… and–”

You’d shoved his hand upward as you began your preamble but as soon as the tightly wrapped cloth passed over his right eye you feel your breath leave your tensed body. 

His eyelashes are pale, the same ashen color as his hair, but they contrast beautifully with the lone eye that peers down. Beautiful? No, it’s more than that. It’s… it’s…

Truthfully, it’s indescribable and unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

It’s blue; but it’s not an ordinary shade. No, the color seems to meld and shift before your shocked gaze, drifting from hue to hue as the color deepens and lightens. Clouds. It’s like clouds passing over a summer sky. The brightness of the cerulean ensnares you, and you can feel your mouth go dry as you stare up at him. 

His eyes are stunning, perfect, and irresistible, hauntingly so.

“So, what do you think?” Satoru asks, pulling his wrist from your grasp and snatching your limp hand in his, twining his long fingers between your own. His skin is warm and you need to say something, anything, but your mind is stuttering, lagging miles behind as you fall headfirst into the overwhelming pull of his presence. 

Finally, you unstick part of your tongue. 

“They’re… uh… I don’t… ha… God…” You shake your head roughly and the familiarity of that motion slips out of the trance he’s placed you under. As soon as you can think again, you jerk your hand from his and blindly walk down the darkened street. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and you can’t stop nibbling on your lower lip. 

It’s not… this isn’t how this is supposed to go, you think, trying vainly to get the shine of Satoru’s eyes out of your mind.

“Never answered my question,” Satoru coos beside you, his long legs quickly catching up with you. “What’s wrong? You like em’ a little too much?… Or…” 

“They… they’re kinda creepy,” you blurt out, fingers curling into your palms. 

“Creepy!” he gasps, hopping in front of you and lifting up both sides of his wrappings, granting you a peek of both eyes. You do your best to avoid looking at him head on, turning and weaving from him, but he dances closer each time you shift. Damn it. His animated performance makes you exhale a quiet chuckle, and he takes your amusement as a sign to continue, constantly placing himself in your way with a broad grin. 

“Stop!” you plead, openly laughing at his sudden burst of silliness. “Now you’re acting like a creep! Satoru! Don’t! Stop showing them to me! You’re losing all of your appeal! Isn’t part of your charm the mystery? Actually, that’s likely all of your charm. Come on, stop it, there’s a cop on that street corner, he’s gonna think you’re drunk and harassing me!”

“Whaaat!” Satoru gulps, whipping his head around to look at the tired policemen that’s leaning against a dim street lamp. “Oh no! The police! Quick (Y/N), before he spots us!” His long fingers snatch up your pliant wrist and he tugs you into a dark alleyway. 

“Hey! Where are you taking me? Officer!” you call out playfully as you balefully follow him, dragging your feet along the dusty ground. “He’s over here! Help!”

“Oi! Knock it off! You wanna get me arrested?”

“Oh please, there’s no way that guy is about to follow–”

“Shit! Shhh, he’s coming this way! Come on!” The sheer force of his grip yanks you forward and you stumble after him. He takes the corner of the next alleyway and the pair of you dash along the wet patches that litter the broken concrete. He’s moving at a tremendous speed, but his feet barely make a noise as he glides over the grimy ground and it takes everything you’ve got to just hold on and keep up.  

A few twists and turns later, you can finally see the bright lights of the busy street that your hotel is on and you feel a heavy exhale of relief leave your burning lungs. Satoru skids to a halt right before he tumbles onto the safety of the sidewalk that rests a few paces ahead and pulls you beside him, grinning down at you as you try to catch your breath. 

“I think we lost him!” he beams and you suck your teeth as you bend over, hands bracing themselves against your knees. “There…there’s no… he wasn’t actually chasing us. Even if he was, I doubt he can catch up now….” your voice trails off as you hear a distant shout from the alleyway and the thud of heavy boots. 

No. There’s no way you think dumbly as you stare into the darkness, eyes searching for movement. 

“See? I told you he was on to us. He’ll see us if he comes this way. What if… Oooh, lemme try something,” Satoru’s broad hands grab at you and he swiftly maneuvers you against the damp brick of the nearest building, careful not to scrape your back as he pushes you against the rust colored siding. “Just play along, I doubt he’ll notice. Don’t give me that look, it’s your fault he’s following us!”

“My fault? I didn’t… oh–”

His lips are sleeker than you’d imagined. 

That first, teasing kiss he gives you already has you lifting your head, following the beguiling smoothness of his mouth, silently asking him for another caress. When he leans down your hands bunch into the dark fabric of his uniform and you can feel his smile against your slackened lips. He doesn’t touch you; his fingers don’t wander to the back of your jaw or the dip of your skull, instead he opts to flatten his angles against your curves, pressing until you can’t feel anything but him. 

The next kiss he gives you has a little more bite behind it, literally. 

His sharp nose bumps your cheek and his teeth worry against the plush swell of your lower lip, sucking and nipping until you’re snatching for his shoulders, searching for some kind of leverage. His mouth parts and right when you think he’s about to deepen his strokes and teasing pecks, he leans back and cocks his head at your flustered expression. “I’ve always wanted to try that,” he tells you, bracing one of his arms above your head. “It looks so fun in the movies.”

That cop could be right behind him, could be waiting for you both to stop your ridiculous routine and face the harsh gleam of reality, but you don’t care, not right now. 

Your hands had fallen from him when he pulled back, and the absence of his warmth makes you desperate to touch him again. But, when you snatch at the corners of his dark jacket, you’re met with that damned barrier. 

“Really?” you bemoan, licking at your kiss slick lips, trying again. “You’re the worst, you know that? You let me get used to the idea of having access to you and then just cut it–mmmph…” 

With a faint shudder of space, his barrier is lowered once more and his lips are back against yours. This time, his hands join in and he cups his fingers behind your ears, tilting you up as he glides his soft touch over you until you’re groaning. 

“Could have just told me you wanted more…” he rumbles in between his caresses, fingers tracing over the line of your jaw, your neck, and the slope of your shoulders. It’s like he can’t decide where he wants to go and you love the momentary burst of indecisiveness that’s broken over him. 

More, apparently, entails you asking him to come up to your room. 

He’d laughed when you’d mentioned it, your lips swollen and glassy from his attentions, and you’d almost taken it back, peeved by his genuine amusement at the idea, but then he’d plucked you into his arms and smoothed any lingering doubts with another flurry of nips and kisses. 

“This gonna make it into your report?” he grins, yanking his high collared jacket off and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. “I should,” you barb, pulling the long band of your hip pouch off, letting it clatter to the ground as your fingers work up the buttons of your own uniform. “Let them think that you’re abusing your status.” 

“Tch, me? Abuse my power? Never. Hey, I think you’re supposed to go slower with that. Don’t just yank all of your clothes off. You know, take your time, tease me a little,” Satoru chuckles, jerking his chin toward your busy hands.

“Oh? Wanting a show?” you ask, threading the last button and spreading the heavy material apart, revealing the thin shirt that’s obscuring his view of your breasts and stomach. “Well, that’s too bad, because taking all this gear off is never fun, or sexy for that matter…”

“Not with that attitude,” he hums, stepping closer, peeling his skin tight undershirt off and revealing the sleek planes of his rippled muscles. Most sorcerers are fit; and many boast beefier sets of pectorals and curving arches of biceps and triceps, but there’s something about the streamlined leanness of Satoru that’s making your hands itch. He’s not far, you could reach out for him, slip your fingers over the dips and beveled lines of his abdomen and follow that tempting strip of white that winds down the front of his pants, but that makes this too easy and there’s nothing about Satoru that’s easy.

“Mmm, that’s a new look.” His voice is distant to your ears, but the satisfied note that’s vibrating through his words makes you snap your head up, fingernails scraping against your palms. “You look like you wanna eat me (Y/N)… or maybe, taste is a better adjective. Awe, what’s the matter? Worried I won’t let you?”

You run your tongue over your lips and lift one hand, holding it steady and crooking your index finger at his brazen expression, pleased to see that cheeky smile of his falters a little. “Do me a favor, come here and take off that blindfold.”

“Ah-ha, so bossy,” he growls, voice sinking into that sinfully lower octave as he raises his broad hands to the back of his wrappings, unwinding the fabric and slowly advancing toward you. He stops when the tips of his toes are inches from your own, bracing his palms toward his face, holding the last strip across his eyes. “Wanna do the honors? Or are you expecting me to do all the work tonight?”

“As if. Besides…” you snicker, pulling two fingers to the remains of his blindfold and peeling it down, watching as his hair falls forward, slowly divulging the top of his forehead, pale eyebrows and that shock of avid blue that’s already gazing down at you. “I think you like when I tell you what to do, don’t you?”

“Ahh, looks like she figured me out,” Satoru groans, letting the ivory bindings fall to the floor, his hands already reaching for your waist. He doesn’t give you an opportunity to study him, but they’ll be time for that later, you reason, arms lacing around his chorded neck. 

This kiss is hungrier and his tongue immediately dances along the seam of your lips, pressing until you give in. It’s an awkward angle, but he expertly adjusts himself to you, slotting a warm palm against the small of your back and raising the other to curl into your hair, lifting you until it’s perfect. 

He’s greedy, devouring every inch you give him with a ravenous edge, but when you suck on his lower lip, he slips into something that’s clearly a little more unhinged. 

Suddenly, he’s the one who’s bending forward, trying to get as close to you as he physically can, hunching until you can trace your fingertips over the sharpness of his jaw. His teeth clink against yours as he snatches you up, and you can feel the sharp bulge of his length, the hardness grinding down your hips and stomach as he yanks you nearer. It’s hard to breathe, but he’s refusing to let you budge, lips avariciously seeking and pulling, leaving you with nothing else but the sheer enormity of his touch.  

“Fuck,” he gasps, finally letting you fall from his grasp, heaving out a few unsteady breaths. “You’ve got way too much on. Why do you still have so much on?” He plucks at your shirt but stops when he frees the edge from your pants, cerulean eyes bright in the moonlight. “Take it off,” he heaves, forehead pressing against yours, lifting his fingers from you. “Take it off for me, please?” 

You nod, a little taken aback by his sudden desperation, and he watches closely as you yank the thin material up, blue eyes shining as you unveil yourself. When the shirt passes over your breasts, he gives you a distracted kiss to the temple before he pulls away, freeing you to pull it over your head and sighing happily when it finally hits the floor, leaving you partially bare. As soon as your arms lower, he’s back against you, hands cupping at your hips, jerking you forward. “Whoa,” you gasp, bracing your palms against his chest. “Slow down. Let me get the rest of this–”

“No, no, no, no,” he chants, fingers smoothing up your spine. “Stop, for a second… just… just gimme a minute. You feel so nice. Your skin, it’s… it’s so warm and so fucking smooth, ahhh. Ohh, yes. A few more seconds (Y/N), just let me… It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone like this. I kinda forgot what it felt like and I don’t wanna let go, not yet.”

His head is bowed and that hauntingly blue gaze is covered by his winced eyelids, but he can’t seem to stop moving. Even as he asks you to hold still, to let him touch you, feel you, he keeps shifting his weight and burrowing his brow into the dip of your shoulder. 

“Can I take this off?” he asks, nails scritching at the clasp of your bra. “Please? Lemme take it off. Come on. I know you wanna touch me too, I saw how you were looking at me a minute ago. You’re so fucking cute, I can’t… ahaha, fuck, I sound insane. Look, I’ll slow down, I promise, just gimme a little more of you.”

When he mischievously snaps the strap of your bra against your shoulder blade, you can’t help but laugh at his infectious exuberance. His head lifts from you and he turns his attention to your neck, soft lips sucking and nipping at you until you’re wriggling in his hold. “Alright, alright! Just step back, Satoru! I’ll take it off,” you placate, knocking him away and huffing at the long face he gives you in return. “Here,” your fingers unhook the two pronged clasp and the delicate lace slips from your shoulders, falling to the carpeted floor with a hush. “Okay, that’s everything on the top half. Now what are–Ah! Satoru!” 

He takes full advantage of his superior speed and before you can blurt out a proper retort, he’s against you. 

His teeth worry at your earlobe and he immediately hoists you upward, seizing the lush curve of your ass and pulling you into his powerful arms, urging your legs to wrap around his trim waist. When you shakily oblige, he cups one lean arm under you, but the other drags you forward, scraping your newly bared breasts and stiffened nipples against the planes of his powerful pectorals. When he walks, you jostle in his grasp and coil your fingers around his neck, smiling when he moans contentedly at your reliance on his firm hold. “Damn,” he grunts, cocking his head so he can lick a wet circle into your pulse. “You feel fucking good (Y/N). So damn smooth, how are you so soft? God, I want more, I wanna feel everything.”

The front of his shins hit the edge of your bed and he tumbles you down, a dark grin spreading over his face as he watches you stretch out teasingly. He plants a knee into the soft bedding and braces both arms beside your head, leering over you. 

For a long breath, both of you study each other, eyes whisking over gleaming skin and the curves of your faces. Without the added heft of that blindfold Satoru’s snowy hair hangs loosely over his face, straight tendrils clinging to his brow, making him look younger, mellower, and so very handsome. Opting to take advantage of this lull, you reach up and thread your fingers into the silken strands.

When you reach the edge of his temple, you scrape your nails against his scalp, grinning as he lets a heavy exhale fall between his lips, cerulean eyes falling to a pleased half mast. “You’re trying to distract me,” he accuses, gliding a wide palm up your side. You shake your head and keep twirling his hair across your fingertips, marveling at his own softness. “No. I just like your hair.”

“That’s a first,” he snorts, cupping a palm underneath one of your breasts and pulling his thumb over the swelling bud of your nipple. “Here I am, trying to feel you up, and you’re too distracted by my hair to appreciate it. How rude.”

“Shut up,” you gasp out, arching into his hand as he tweaks and plucks at your pebbled tip. “You’re lucky I’m even… mmm… letting you do this.”

“Please. It was your idea, remember?”

Satoru lowers one of his braced arms, letting his weight fall heavily to one side as he keeps his deepening ministrations up. Your fingers are still buried in his hair when he drops his lips to your breast. You feel the flick of his tongue first, and the light tap has you bowing your back, gasping out a faint cry as his rough appendage continues to swipe and twirl over your sensitive flesh. Instinctively, your hands tug at his pearlescent strands and he tilts his head up, fixing you with a lazy stare. “That’s better, looks like I just need to refocus you, huh?” he muses, his words half garbled as he sucks your plump breast into his mouth. He keeps flicking his tongue over you as he suckles, lapping and nipping until you’re writhing under him. 

Once he’s satisfied, his free hand lowers to your grinding hips, forcing you to lay flat against the bed, switching his attention to the neglected twin, sucking and pressing open mouthed bites to your damp, shaking skin. 

A tight heat is coiling in your core and your thighs rub against each other, trying to cool the sharp pricks of arousal that are coursing through you. As soon as your hands fall from his head, Satoru picks up his pace, licking his sloppy tongue under your breasts and nibbling his way down your quivering stomach. “You’re still wearing way too much,” he scolds, fingers toying with the gold clasp of your pants. 

“It’s… oh… difficult to take things off when you… ah–won’t let me move more than two feet from you.” You’d meant it to sound a little firmer, but his constant touch is wearing down your focus, distracting you with brilliant flashes of his luminescent blues and whites. 

“Awe, (Y/N),” he whines, popping his hand against your hip, long fingers digging into your swelled curves. “That’s not fair. I told you, I always have my barrier up. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve touched someone, anyone? I mean really touched them?”

“Daw,” you sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows and peering down at him. “You poor thing. The all powerful Satoru Gojo, too honed and practiced with his neutral technique that he can’t even hold anyone’s hand.” 

“Ha, such a jerk,” he laughs, exaggerating a wounded frown. “I bare my soul to you and this is how I’m treated?” 

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoff, yanking your legs from under him and popping up on your knees, hands reaching for him, curling under his jaw and urging him upwards. His eyes lock onto yours and the grin that tweaks the corner of his lips gives you an idea. “You said you wanted to touch more of me, right?”

As you wait for your answer, you scoot backwards, making him follow you across the bed, finally luring all of his sprawling form onto the cool sheets. “Mmhm,” he grunts, doing his best to keep close, teasing fingers inches from your skin at all times, always ready to stroke and cup each time you pause. When you hit the headboard you stop, studying his features, admiring the growing hunger that’s screaming its way out of his wide eyes.  

“You ever eaten a girl out?”

The question hangs for half a second and you can see his pupils dilate, the black threatening to swallow up the sky streaked blue of his eyes. Then, right when you’re about to tease him for his gaping mouth and flushed cheeks, he’s bowling past you, splaying out against the mattress and pulling you on top of him. 

“Fuck, that’s by far the best thing I’ve heard all day. Hell, all month. I’ll likely go to my grave thinking about that question. Ouch! Stop squirming, you’re kneeing me in the ribs.” 

“I wouldn’t… Satoru! I can’t breathe if you hold me like that!” His arms are like cables, all tensed muscle and raw strength as he pins you against his heaving chest, lips kissing and nipping at any part of you he can reach.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, sucking a bruise into your arched collarbone. “Hurry up and take your pants off. And don’t say you can’t do it like this, you’re a grade 1 sorcerer, you can do anything you put your mind to.”

“Is that going to be part of your teaching regime?” you smart, bucking your hips up so you can unclasp and wiggle your pants down your legs.

“Oooh, you’re right, that sounds good. Damn, I gotta start writing this shit down. That way I can have a whole list of euphemisms. Can you imagine? Molding young minds and helping them to stand up to all the bullshit that those so-called elders make everyone suffer under. All those rules and regulations, the stupid ins and outs they make us all jump through–”

“Hmm,” your voice falls to a gentle hum as you snatch at his chin, stilling his chatter with a single finger against his lips. “That sounds ambitious, but why don’t we take things a little slower, give that mind of yours something else to focus on?”

“Oh?” Satoru smirks, arching an ashen eyebrow at you. “Then you better get up here, before I get distracted again.”

“Don’t you mean down?”

“Huh, down? Ah, I see where the confusion is. Nah, I want you to ride my tongue, baby, so hurry up.” His long arms help him jerk you upward, easily lifting and enticing you forward. That early impatience is peeking out once more, and he pops his head up, nostrils flaring as your uncovered cunt drifts nearer. “Ah, God, I bet you’re so fucking wet. I can smell you from here. Come on, grab onto the headboard and let me get to it.”

Your legs shake as you plant them beside his head and you do your best to steady your pounding heart, pulling a thin stream of air through your parted lips. As soon as you touch the wood of the headboard, he’s gripping your thighs so tightly you’re sure he’s going to leave bruises behind. The tip of his nose is the first thing you feel, and it’s so close to your pulsing clit that you inadvertently cant your hips forward. “Ooh, sensitive, are we?” he crows, nestling himself under you, his breath hot against your dampened folds and wet curls. 

The following slick slurp of his tongue and the slow pass of his lips make your head tip back. He’s surprisingly gentle, slowly licking his way along your labia, pulling and sucking as he goes, teasing closer to that tight bud that’s waiting, just a little bit higher. 

At first, you worry about crushing him, too caught up in the placement of your weight to fall into the haze his mouth is begging you to slip into. But then his lips latch onto you, careful to mouth in time with the thud of your clit, suckling and squeezing until you can’t help but grind down, earning yourself a sharp groan that reverberates against your trembling skin. Using the weight of the headboard as leverage, you roll your hips over him, shifting in time with his well-placed rhythm. 

He’s good, but even the great Satoru Gojo isn’t perfect, not all the time.

When he nips at you a little too hard you shift back, depriving him of your wet heat, loving the petulant sighs and moans he gives you when you do. “Ah, sorry. Gimme a little more time,” he bargains, fingers sinking into the voluptuous curve of your ass, tying to urge you back over his glistening lips. “I’ll do better, (Y/N). Besides, I want you to cum for me. You taste so fucking good and I want it, I want all of it. Hey! Don’t be like that! I said I’d do better. Come back here.”

God, he’s such a brat. 

Every time you shift away he’s got another string of exasperated pleas ready, twitching his fingers and shaking his pale head at your impudence. “Less talking,” you moan, shivering as he delves his tongue into you, feeling his grin as your cunt squeezes around his intrusion. “Ok, ok,” he growls, using his brute strength to overpower your tensed legs. “Mmm, yes baby, ah–just relax, I’ll take care of you.”

Fuck, you think as you sink your fingers into his hair, spurring him on, this feels way too good.

When he captures your clit between his teeth and tweaks the tip of his tongue against you, you can’t help but fall to pieces. Your orgasm hits you like a battering ram, seizing hold of your muscles as it rolls through you and scattering a faint spark of spots across your vision. Satoru’s arms wrap around your blindly pistoning hips, helping you to sink closer, ravenously slurping and swallowing down each wave of arousal that hits his gluttonous lips. 

You’re still shaking when he pulls out from under you, flipping you bonelessly under him as his hands finally rid himself of his clearly tented and damp pants. Your eyes are just clearing when you catch sight of him, studiously following that trail of white curls to his impressive length. His cock is long, curving proudly toward his chiseled stomach and bubbling a clear string of pre-cum from the flushed tip. You do your best to sit up, but as soon as he catches sight of your movement, his broad palm is pressing you back. “Ah-ah,” he taunts, stroking a hand over his swollen cock and wiping the last of your slick from his face against his shoulder. “Keep still for me, ‘kay?’” 

His wide palms spread your legs apart, and he soothes his fingertips along your skin as he tugs a few heady groans from himself. “Fuck, you look so good. You’re so goddamn pretty. When you were sitting there at the bar and you looked so fucking happy I couldn’t take my eyes off you, you just looked so nice. Haven’t even known you a week, and I’m already obsessed with hearing that laugh of yours. You put some kinda spell on me, huh? That what this is?”

“Ugh, stop talking, Satoru,” you threaten, watching the steady ebb and flow of his clenched fist. His cock looks so smooth and you’re desperate to reach for it, to take hold of velvety flesh and see how long it would take for the world’s strongest sorcerer to be putty in your hands. 

He arches a pale brow at your blatant stare. “You want it?”

“I want you,” you correct, and the smile that breaks across his handsome face makes your heart squeeze. 

“Awe, how can I possibly say no to that?” he asks, gleefully lining himself up with your slit. Despite his early eagerness, he’s taking his time with this part, running the bulbous head of his cock over you, gathering up some of your gossamer strands, slicking himself with your dripping arousal. “Sorry,” he amends when he makes another pass along your folds. “It’s been awhile and I want to take it all in. I don’t wanna rush this.”

“It’s fine,” you smile, lifting your hands to pass them over his stomach, watching as his muscles ripple under your delicate touch. “Just don’t take too long or you’re not going to be on top for much longer.”

“That a threat or a promise, baby?” Satoru leers, finally slipping his tip past that first, tight ring of your entrance. Despite his bravado, his lips curl over his teeth and he lets out a low hiss as he sinks into you, inch by shallow inch. The pressure of his cock makes you arch, legs automatically wrapping around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back. He bows his head and his ethereal gaze falls behind his shaking eyelids as he thrusts forward, edging himself along until he bottoms out within you. Fuck, you feel so full.

The stretch of him makes you shake and you’re grateful he’s taking his time when he stills, lips smacking distracted kisses over your heated cheeks and parted lips, giving you time to adjust to him, and he to you. After a few steadying breaths, his teeth bite at the hollow of your throat and he pulls his hips back, grinning as your hands grasp into the sheets, a sharp whine escaping you. He echoes your sentiment, letting a gasping string of curses tumble from his shaking lips as he ruts forward again, one hand gripping at your right leg, prying you from his waist and slinging the trembling limb over his shoulder.

This angle has him pressing against something wonderful and sharp, and you can’t help but gasp out his name as he starts to methodically ram into it, over and over. You can feel him swell at the sound of your pleading moans and you savor the feel of his cock throbbing against your tender walls. “More,” you shudder, fingers trying to hurry his steady hips as he diligently cants into you. 

“In a minute,” he grunts, biting at your pliant skin, arms coiling under your back. “This feels too fucking good. Let me just… ah… fuck…” 

He slows, moving at a pace that sets your teeth on edge, and you thrash under him. Although his cock is digging against that aching place that’s sending dots and stars across your eyes, it’s not enough pressure. Licking your lips, you worm one of your hands between the two of you and pinch and roll your fingers over your clit, easing some of the tingling bittersweetness that’s pulsing over you. 

“Alright, alright, point taken,” Satoru chuckles, releasing your leg from his tight grip and re-lacing it around his hips. “How do you want it, baby? You want it fast? Or do you want it hard? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, peeking up at his enthralling cerulean, willingly ensnaring yourself in the intensity of his gaze. “I just want more of you.”

“Tch,” he hums, cupping a hand against your warm cheek. “Don’t say shit like that, I might end up falling for you.”

The laugh that echoes from your lips is swiftly cut off by a gasp as he abruptly ups the pace of his thrusts. He’s quick, but he’s still listening and watching for what you like. When you moan he’s right there with you, steadying his rhythm, and when you call out his name, he digs a little harder. 

It’s too much. It feels raw, like you’re scratching at a cut. Like there’s some itch that you just can’t reach. 

All of it, the feel of his meaty balls slapping against the sticky plushness of your ass, and those breathy moans makes your head spin. The intensity of the moment slips your fingers from your clit, but he makes up for their loss by grinding down each time he sinks into your cunt, scraping the hard edge of his pelvic bone against your throbbing bud. 

He’s good. Fuck.

You can feel the hazy slope of your orgasm approaching and you blindly arch up each time he careens downward, ensuring that he’s hitting right where you need him to. His movements start to hit a lull as he slips into his own fog of lingering pleasure, dipping his head to your neck and sighing contentedly when you kiss at his temple. But the tenderness of your touch must knock him out of his own whirring thoughts and he rewards you with another set of rapid fire thrusts, his lips pulling from your neck to seek out yours, kissing and nipping until you’re gasping for air. 

“Mmmm,” he moans, breath hot against your skin. “You feel so good and you’re getting so fucking tight. You gonna’ cum for me? One more time?”

You do your best to gulp out a reply, but the abrupt press of his calloused thumb against your clit makes you shake instead, a tingling rush of heady arousal racing its way up your spine. Smiling down at your awed expression, he lifts his fingers away and uncoils your legs from his waist, flinging them both over his broad shoulders, his knees settling forward as he continues to roughly thrusts his hips forward, driving you quivering body into the soft sheets. 

“You like that? Does it feel good? Does it? Fuck baby, I’m begging you, give it to me one more time. Can you do that for me? Can you cum for me? I want you to cum on my dick, ah, come on (Y/N), just once more, that’s all I’m asking. You can do it, can’t you?”

He’s rasping his questions against the shell of your ear, hands cupping at the side of your face, keeping you close as he races toward his own end, voice lifting into a frantic plea as he hurtles closer, desperate to feel your satisfaction rippling around him before he completely looses himself to the aching pleasure of your body. 

“I–” you choke out, arms lacing around his back, nails pressing half moons into his skin. He moans at the bite of your touch and tilts your hips upward, seeking more of you. 

That change is all it takes. 

The tip of his cock presses down, lifts, and then suddenly you’re seeing stars. 

“I’m… yes! Oh, fuck. Satoru, just like that. Don’t… don’t stop!” For once, he doesn’t tease. He just smiles, his face flushed, pale cheeks dusted a pleased pink and repeats the motion, careful to keep everything absolutely steady. The repeated push and pull, the warmth of your cunt, the feel of your skin, it’s making his cock throb and his heart race, but he’s determined to see you break. 

There. There it is. Fuck, you’re so pretty.

On an outward pull of his hips, your back arches and your thighs tense and he lets out a long growl, quickly breaking his fastidious rhythm and sinking back into you, gasping as you flutter around him. A new flush of wetness leaks out of your cunt and squelches between your pinned legs, dripping over the cleft of your ass.

He only lasts a few extra ruts, but the feel of him swelling and pulsing inside your tender pussy almost topples you over the edge again and you cling to him in the aftermath of his release, your heaving breasts catching against his flat pectorals. 

With a quick peck, he slowly lowers your legs and eases himself out of you, blue eyes widening at the sight of his softening hardness leaving your leaking pussy. “I don’t know which I like better,” he contemplates, leaning back on his haunches and slicking his index finger up the pooling dribble you’ve both left behind, spreading the spidery traces across his hand. “You wet and dripping for me or filled to the brim with my cum.” His lewd comment makes you huff out a low groan of exasperation and you roll off of the bed, shaking your head as you steady yourself and walk toward the bathroom. 

After a brisk rinse in the shower, you pad back into the darkened room, fully expecting to see an empty bed. You’re not sure why that’s your first thought, but something about Satoru doesn’t scream: I’m the kind of guy who likes post coitus cuddles. So the sight of him, bundled under your sheets, white hair poking just above the edge of the blankets, is a surprise.

“Oh,” you pause, dropping your towel on the floor as you openly gape at him. “You’re still here… I, well, I figured you’d take off.”

“Huh?” Satoru croaks, popping his head up, his face comically askew. “What kinda guy do you think I am?”

“Apparently the kind that stays over,” you snicker, digging around for your discarded bra and panties. 

He lets out a mock gasp, popping a hand against his cheek. “How could you say that! And after I gallantly brought you back here?”

“And fucked me,” you remind him, slipping your lacy underwear back on and re-adjusting the clasp of your bra.

“That too!” he qualifies, arching a pale eyebrow at your impassive face. “I’d say I was pretty generous. You did cum twice after all.”

“Oh my God,” you sigh, crossing your arms across your chest and perching beside the edge of the bed, shaking your head at the sprawling man under your covers.

“Come on, you wouldn’t seriously make me walk all the way back to the school at this hour. What if something happens to me? How could you live with yourself, knowing you kicked me out into the cold?”

“It’s summer,” you point out, rolling your eyes. “And you’re… what six foot three… and you have the legendary six eyes… I mean, I think you’ll be ok.”

“(Y/N),” Satoru begins, narrowing those bright blue eyes at you.

“Yeah?”

“Is it your habit to sleep with helpless guys and then kick them out? You’re so cruel.”

“Stop it,” you warn, snatching at the sheets and yanking them off of his naked form.

“No!” he protests, fingers clutching vainly at the thin cover. “Your bed is so nice! Come on, I’ll be good and I don’t snore. Well, not that I know of anyway…”

“Ugh, fine. I don’t have the energy for this and we have to be up in four hours. Just shush and scoot over.”

“Oh? Do you not have the energy because I fucked it out of you?”

“I’m sorry, were you wanting to stay the night?” 

“Alright, alright,” he splays his hands up in supplication and makes room for you, watching closely as you curl up beside him, a smile playing over his lips. “Hey,” he asks once you’ve closed your eyes, leaning close to your reposed form. 

“What?” you groan, cracking an eye open.

“Can I be the little spoon?”

“Satoru…”

“Mmhm?”

“Shut up.”

notes: hehe. i feel like he’d be so freaking chatty in bed. plus, how could i not make him a little touched starved? stop making me like characters that just wanna be held universe, gosh :3c

#jjk friday #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #reader insert #jjk imagines

[grxywarxn]

Revisiting Banana Fish, Almost Two Years Later.

*Spoiler warning for any new comers to the fandom.*

The Banana Fish fandom, to put it bluntly, is pretty much dead. I haven't been as active as I was when I first discovered the anime in October two years ago, but oddly enough, I think I still think about this series almost every day. I still think, even if only for a second, about Ash, about Eiji, about the impact their story, and all the other characters story, has had on me. 

I'm really only posting this to ramble. To talk about the relationship between Eiji and Ash, and to of course, talk about the ending and Garden of Light. (Which was only in the manga for any anime onlys. I've also made a post on the ending when the last episode came out, but it was mainly manga focused and written horribly.)

I will begin first with the importance of the relationship:

Ash is a character who has been through a lot of shit. That much is clear from the first episode. (Papa Dino, trailing his hand down Ash's cheek with his possesive grip and condecending tone.)

Ash's story is difficult. Is it one of redemption? Yes, but no. 

When Ash sees Eiji poll vault, when he sees Eiji fly through the air freely and gracefully, he too wants to do that. He wants to be able to let everything go and fly in the air, if only for a little bit. He is in awe of Eiji. In want of him. 

*Gif credit: https://mobpsycho100.tumblr.com/post/175820001579?ref=weheartit*

Eiji is kind. And like Sing has stated, he finds a way to reach out to the lost people and leave some sort of imprint. Some sort of connection with them, albeit, unknowingly. But Ash is someone who needed someone like that to enter his life. Someone who could show him that there was an out, and if he wanted to take it, he could, somehow. 

The beauty of seeing Eiji slowly help Ash out of the rut he's gotten himself in is something I was (and still am,) happy to have had the pleasure of seeing. It's Eiji Ash turns to whenever something happens. It's Eiji Ash immediatley thinks of when there’s trouble. And it's also Ash that Eiji is constantly thinking about. It's Ash Eiji wants everything to change for. He wishes constantly that things were different. 

The relationship they have is this: equal. Sure, you could argue that it's not, considering the power Ash holds with the flick of his finger. But that power is never demonstrated on Eiji. The love and comfort they each have for each other is mirrored. I’ve never felt as if one loved each other less or more than the other.

One very important thing I want to talk about (this was a popular discussion among some fans when the anime was finishing it's course,) is that a loving relationship does not need to be sexual for it to be considered that; a relationship.

Sure, a common thing when people think of relationships is that. Kissing and sex. It's almost as though they need to be part of one for that relationship to be valid.

But you would have to be blind, or seriously stupid, to not be able to see the love Ash and Eiji have for each other. With their touches and the way they so clearly care for each other. It just confuses me so much how people could ever look at them and not think they were, in some aspect, romantically interested/with one another. 

I just think it's really amazing to see something like that displayed so casually. There’s never any questioning among them. Never a moment when either expressed or wanted things to escalate and I think that’s so touching. 

I will know discuss the ending, with a lot of aspects from my old post, but now with (hopefully) more concise thoughts.

The ending is this: heartbreaking.

Although I don't think I've seen a lot of this in the fandom, I know a common argument for why endings like Banana Fish shouldn't even be endings is that it shows there is no recovery from the life Ash has been through, and I disagree.

(This is not to say you can't have that conception.)

The ending is still confusing to me. No matter how many times I've tried to exam it. No matter how many times I've tried to argue with myself that, this is what it meant, I'm sure. I still can't come up with a clear answer that I enjoy.

There are so many questions: Why didn't Ash seek medical help? He would have known that those wounds weren't fatal. Why did he chose to let  himself die? Was it because he couldn't bring himself to do this anymore? Was it because of an underlying guilt he felt for tying Eiji to himself? 

One of the answers I often contemplate is this: Ash was tired. I think he really thought there wasn’t an easy, a foreseeable, out that would leave Eiji and him safe. That the offer Eiji gave him to come to Japan just wasn’t plausible. I think he really was just done.

I also think that when Ash read Eijis letter (that beautiful letter that still makes my chest tight,) he felt at peace. After reading, my soul is always with you (I’m literally having trouble typing this,) I think he knew that that was true. That wherever Ash went, Eiji would follow somehow. Eiji would somehow be tied to him.

I think in that moment, with it pretty much spelt out for him, Ash knew he was loved. And he thought that that love was enough. And that he could die, with the smile on his face, knowing this.

Lastly, although this will be very brief, I want to talk about Garden of Light. And how sad it really makes me that Eijin really did stick to those words: my soul is always with you. 

Eiji has grown up, it has been nine years, his hair is longer, and still yet, he is back in New York and is still consumed by the thought of Ash. 

It brings me immense amounts of pain to see Eiji still so stuck on Ash. Still not able to really accept what has happened. I even think him growing his hair out was a part of that.

Let’s compare it to Yut Lung, who grew his hair out in an attempt to stay close to his past. In an attempt to still be tied to his mother, the only person he was able (beside Blanca and Sing, who didn’t come until many years later,) to find solace in. But who left him.

Now with Eiji, the similarity here is this: Eiji was tied to Ash so strongly. They were incredibly important to each other (obviously,) Similar to how deeply Yut Lung and his mother were important to each other. (Although in different contexts.) But, I think he grew his hair out as an attempt to distance himself from Ash. To distance himself from that pain.

At the end of volume 19, Eiji finally played those photos from so long ago. He was finally able to find some way to accept what happened. Even if only a little bit. And this fills me with such intense emotion. To finally see Eiji cry because things can’t change. I’ll never come back from that. 

I don’t think Banana Fish will ever be far from me. It’s been two years and I still think about it with such intense fondness and sadness. This was a series that greatly impacted me, and for that I am grateful. 

#banana fish #bananafish #asheiji #ash lynx #eiji okumura #yut lung lee #lee yut lung #ash and eiji #eiji and ash #sing soo ling #studio mappa #garden of light #I think i'll go cry now #ash lynx x eiji okumura #I love them way too much #I really want that last photo as a tattoo #banana fish anime #banana fish manga

[libraparent5]

The effects and consequences of cocaine

Cocaine (lat. Cocaine (lat. It is very expensive in this country so most people only have the chance to taste it. Cocaine is a group of psychostimulants, and that's why it is mostly used for raising your mood and getting pleasant emotions. Cocaine can cause you to feel high and give you the illusion of having unlimited mental ability. The cocaine mentality is well illustrated by the case of William Halstead, who made many discoveries in the field of medical anesthesia and surgery. He became America's first drug addict when he started to research the analgesic effects of cocaine on his own. While under sabotage, he published an article that began like this: Although this may be explained in different ways, it leaves me wondering about the possible misunderstandings surrounding what follows. Many people, including those in hospitals, are unsure as to why local anesthesia is important. In these circumstances, I have no desire to try and defend the unprotected reputation for surgery and instead focus on helping others. It has taken me many months to realize this. New York Medical Journal article: https://newyorkmedicaljournal.org/ He thought that this article was fantastic when it was first written. However, the coke-addicted patient is unable to express his self-criticism. He might dry greasy plates by putting them in the dryer. After rinsing, he will think that the dishes are clean. He'll be amazed at the clean dishes he finds next day. The memory is an interesting thing. When you're sober and under the influence of coke, it is almost impossible for you to remember what happened until your next dose. You can have two completely different realities. Stephen King claimed that he wrote a few books under coke but was unable to remember any of them. A second side effect of coke includes an aggravation in all senses. The client begins to see small details that he does not pay attention to in normal life, and they take on a deep meaning for him. The world is brighter, music, or even bell ringing can be very satisfying. The skin becomes very sensitive. The skin may become very sensitive if you are extremely high. In such a situation, a fellow addict may scratch his hands into the meat trying to get them out. A client's inadequacy can increase. The fucker can fuck himself even if he is doing the most innocuous thing or asking an ordinary question. Purely physiological effects include elevated blood pressure, sweating increased heart rate, dilation pupils and increased blood flow. These effects are very similar to those experienced by other psychostimps like vint, blow-dryers, and others. But, cocaine's effects are very short-lived. The effects of cocaine use can take anywhere from 30-60 minutes to kick-in if snorted. If stabbed or smoked as a crack, it takes 20-30 minutes at all. It is followed immediately by an abrupt, sudden release and a weak desire for use again. order cocaine CRACK Crack is a smoking drug, it is yellow in color and has the appearance of crystals, it is diluted with soda and other impurities. When heated, the crystals crack and click, which is why the drug was named for that particular sound. This is the most affordable type of coke and it is popular among the less-affluent segments of the U.S. populace. Smoking coke is just as dangerous as inhaling it. COCAINE - MANY TYPES buy cocaine The plant, which is used to make the drug, grows mainly in South America, Colombia and Bolivia. These countries are the major suppliers of the white powder. The drug can take on a variety of forms and appearances. They are also classified according their purity and impurities. The drug can also be smoked and intravenously injected. This instantly causes irreversible damage to the body and could lead to death. Colombian coke remains the leader in drug trafficking.

#healh #drugs #medicine #rehab #cocaine

[dontjudgemeimawriter]

Second Chance -Intro

as of now, this is what I’m planning on working on for 2021 NaNoWriMo

Tag: #second chance

Genre: Urban fantasy new adult

More: Gods, alternate mythology, alternate modern day (?), college, gods, steampunk aesthetics (not sure if it qualifies as punk), time travel, prophecy, time loops, wlw

Told in first person past tense.

Plot Summary/Synopsis

Chrys has lived every day twice for as long as she can remember. With every day repeating, the first one disappearing with no consequences, she developed a double life-- one of apathy and risk, and another of perfect grades, good relationships, and impeccable foreknowledge. When she meets Russell, someone who seems to live the same repeating life she does, suddenly her two lives become a lot less separate. Things become worse when time stops one day and Chrys discovers why days repeat-- a world of gods and servants who work for them. Her search for answers is hindered by the focus of the recently stolen Spirit of Time, something that may have far more to do with her and Russell than expected.

More under the cut!

World

(Main thing that I'm updating in rewrite so will add more as I work on it!)

Relevant Gods:

Saecys: God of Time. Saecys is elusive, not often communicating with servants and definitely not with people. He is sustained so easily that his power and significance never goes into question-- as long as people are keeping track of the time, Saecys will exist. However, Saecys is unique in that their power is severed from their consciousness-- instead, this is kept and maintained by the "Spirit" of time, and the Time Servants serve as the main influences and main enforcers. This allows Saecys to extend their influence more than they could on their own.

Auratiae: (will be further developed) God of Divination and Prophecy. Never was anywhere near as major a god, and has had some resentment for it, more their followers than them themselves. Is sustained in modern day by zodiac and horoscopes, and as always by tarot and other forms of divination (one of the things I want to dove more into is if I can keep this but not be resentful of modern witchcraft, or if I should rework a new god into their role. Will edit this post as I figure that out)

Ardisci: God of Knowledge. For now not important to the plot although they become more important later. Missing, but the vessel through which Knowledge and pursuit of knowledge goes. (Her being missing may have something to do with the prevalence of misinformation).

Moriscer: God of Memory. Hints of Moriscer come into play when exploring memory projections.

Characters

Chrys: (previously Carson) MC. Chrys is, on null days, apathetic. She seeks thrills, engages in reckless behavior, and allows herself to be selfish. She has made herself a few rules for null days that keep her from crossing certain boundaries. On real days though, you'd never recognize this-- good attendance, grades, an intuitive sense about the problems she and her friends may face. It's harder than she thinks to fully have two separate lives, and the apathy of one may seek into the other just like the compassion of one may show up in ways she didn't expect. This very constant and normal part of her life is something she may not think she likes, but it has both ruined and enriched her life in ways she doesn't realize until it becomes important.

Ava: Ava is Chrys's connection to her "real" life, that is, the life that lasts. Ava's the reason Chrys stayed in their hometown after graduating high school. Ava is very sweet, shy, and a bit repressed... and far more perceptive than Chrys realizes. She keeps a lot close to her chest due to life with an emotionally abusive parent, and vocalizes very little of her inner feelings. She feels close to Chrys too... definitely no feelings there that are anything more than platonic, nope no way what're you talking about (some internalized homophobia at work there). Although she doesn't feel free to pursue it, Ava is greatly interested in mythology, history, and philosophy, and ideally would want to be a historical nonfiction writer.

Joce: Chrys’s friendship with Joce was mainly to have a friend to go on null day adventures with, but in sustaining their friendship, they’ve become closer than Chrys intended by just having someone already as risk-seeking as she was. Joce is brave, bold, and impulsive. She’s not used to having freinds that stick around, and has no idea why the studious and well-adjusted (ha) Chrys has befriended her.

Russell: A lot about Russell is Spoilers! In a way to describe him in as least a spoiler-y way possible, Russell is friendly and eager to be liked, a bit sheltered/with a skewed perspective of the world. As far as Chrys knows, he’s like her-- living days twice without knowing why, but somehow ever developed the same double life and sense of apathy.

Nellie: A Time Servant who works as a field agent. Lost her arm a few years back and uses a prosthetic. Very driven and determined. Trying to catch the thief who stole the spirit of time because  she blames herself, despite having very little to do with it.

Varity: high-ranking Time Servant, one of few that gets direct contact with Saecys.

Alina: Assistant to Varity, liason between agents and teams. Tries to help everybody as best she can. Used to be a medic.

Silas: Very into mechanics and tinkering. Guard of the Spirit of Time and knows the spirit better than anyone (except Saecys). Likes to figure out how things work and experiment. Considers the Spirit his best friend, but doesn't admit that because it wounds crazy.

Nora: A lot about her is also spoiler-y, but I will say that she’s very possessive and controlling

Other

Character Portraits:

Picrew

Current taglist:

(Ask to be added!)

@puzzleddragon02​

Note: I’ve decided that at least for preptober purposes, I’m not going to keep answers to prompts spoiler-free-- so there will likely be major spoilers under cuts. I don’t care too much about sharing them, especially since I feel like I’ve shared the big plot twist already (Because it sets up the plot of book 2), and idk if anyone is going to follow this enough that they would care about avoiding spoilers, but if you do want to avoid them, don’t go under the cuts!)

#second chance #introduction #navigation #wip intro #nanowrimo 2021

[starprin101]

Soundscream Week

Day 4: Ideal

Nothing is perfect.

It's a nice thought to have, that the object in question could be any sort of ideal. But the reality is that it's not. Nothing is.

Starscream had learnt that early in his life, and it made him feel wiser than everyone else. He put himself on a pedestal because he claimed to understand it.

Oh? Someone can't do their job properly? Well, nothing is perfect.

Oh? The Vehicons had to blow up a small portion of energon to attack an Autobot? Well, nothing's perfect.

Oh? Megatron's back after being conked out for weeks and is just as mad as ever although it might be worse? Well-... well actually that could've gone better.

But the point is: that was the law of the universe, nothing is perfect.

Except Soundwave.

When he does his tasks, multiple at a time I remind you, he completes all of them flawlessly. When he goes on the rare mission, he always -always- achieves his goal. And when complications get in the way, he successfully maneuvers around them with ease.

Soundwave is the very definition of the word and that's why Starscream despised him. One of the reasons. Another one was how despite that, he still admired him.

There was a sort of... fluidity to his actions. Every click of a button, every gliding step, every movement he made mesmerized anyone who watched. That just infuriated him more.

That's how it used to be, when it was just simple mutual hatred. Now, it had become so much more complicated there couldn't be a label. It wasn't terrible per say, it just frustrated him how confusing it was.

Sometimes they were nice to each other, like they were friends, and other times it was that same rivalry from the beginning, though that was happening a lot less.

And it was all because of Soundwave's favour.

After that night he thought they weren't going to do it again. Obviously it was just a one time thing for his apparent sake.

But they did. Again, and again, and again, and again. He doesn't even know how it happens anymore, it just does.

But afterwards, that's usually the strangest time he experiences. The first few times they'd lie there, mentally gather themselves, then leave and carry on as before. But then Soundwave started cuddling him. Starscream just went stiff the first time, not knowing what to make of it, and occasionally tried to push him away only to give up and just take it. But the more it happened, the more comfortable he became. Then they started talking to each other. It was nothing important, they just spoke whatever was on their mind. It's fun.

Now was just like that.

"- and then, when he's at his weakest, I'll fire the missile and BOOM!" Starscream waved his arm in an arc above him, careful not to slap Soundwave in the process. The two were lying in the TIC's berth, wrapped around each other. Starscream's arm under Soundwave's head like a pillow, Soundwave's arms holding his chassis close, and a pede each hooking together. Neither seemed to mind their position.

"Incorrect."

Starscream's smile dropped and he looked back at Soundwave. "And why's that?"

"Where will the missile even come from!?"

Starscream frowned. That was in his voice. "When did I say that?"

"You're changing the subject Starscream."

He smirked. Lowering his arm back around Soundwave's waist, he continued. "Well, obviously the missile will come from the Nemesis!"

"Which is already keeping the Autobots at bay."

"No, the Vehicons are taking care of them!"

"Which are also supplied from the Nemesis. -and you're already halfway across the planet."

"Have you forgotten we have a groundbridge?"

"We have a limited amount of drones. Statistics show we'll eventually run out- and the Autobots will come to the rescue- before you complete your plan."

He glared at him. "... well obviously there are going to be a few holes in my plans. I hope you know that's not the best I can come up with. It was made up on the spot."

"Of course it was."

Starscream playfully slapped his aft and Soundwave sent an outraged burst of feedback. He chuckled. "Alright then smart mouth, how would you defeat Optimus Prime?"

"That is not my interest."

"Then say, for the sake of hypothetical, he destroyed Megatron. What's your plan of action?"

"Revenge is a waste of time."

"Just try to indulge me will you?"

Soundwave fell silent, considering it, then planning it. The silence allowed Starscream to hear the gentle purring of Soundwave's engine.

The first time he heard that, he doubled over laughing, calling him a cat. He laughed until his throat hurt, though that was mainly caused by Soundwave throttling him. Afterwards he stopped laughing (as hard) whenever it happens. Even now he let out a small snicker. Soundwave's head shot up and he could feel hidden optics glaring threateningly at him.

"What?" He asked innocently. He'd never say it out loud, but it was... endearing when he made that noise. It was almost comforting.

Soundwave just answered with an image flickering on his visor, with a whole description next to it. Starscream wasn't going to read the whole thing, but he got the basics. "A virus? I hate to sound rude, but viruses and poisons are a coward's weapons."

Images of the rest of Team Prime surrounded the virus, and Starscream understood. "Ah, take the lackeys out of the picture. You could infect the medic first so they won't find a cure in time. Do we have any viruses like that?"

"If I did I would have used it by now."

"Good point. And what of Prime? Are you going to fight him or something?" A nod. "Megatron can't even defeat him one on one! I must ask what you'll do that's so different."

"Lord Megatron is a great fighter- but he lacks tactic." Starscream's gasp was comically exaggerated.

"Soundwave! I have never heard you speak so ill of our great and glorious leader! How could you disregard such a wonderful, powerful-" A smack to his head and he burst out laughing.

"Heheh. But- but in all seriousness, I have never heard you say anything bad about Megatron before."

"I only speak the truth. -an' the truth is he be bat-shit crazy!"

Starscream laughed again at that ridiculous voice, whatever on Earth that was, and pulled him closer.

"My my! Is this Soundwave finally showing his true colours?" He chuckled, while said bot just tucked his head under Starscream's, probably to hide his (already hidden) embarrassment.

"You will not repeat what happened."

"I know. 'What happens in the berth, stays in the berth'." He recited.

The chuckling died down, and he couldn't help but think.

"Soundwave... if you really think he's gone mad, and his plans are ridiculous, why don't you stop him? He listens to you doesn't he?"

"Once he starts, you can't stop him."

He hummed. "I suppose that's true."

A moment of silence, then his smile came back. "Well, if you ever feel like it's time to get rid of Megatron and anoint me as the new leader, we could always team up." Soundwave hit him again and he laughed.

"I'll leave the offer open if you change your mind." He thought he would receive another smack, but instead Soundwave just buried himself in Starscream's chassis.

"Hm. Now would be a good time to recharge actually. It'll be suspicious if you're late tomorrow." His chronometer told him it was around midnight. He nuzzled his helm on top of Soundwave's.

"Goodnight Cat." A static huff with a knee jabbing his thigh, and he snickered.

Soundwave is phenomenal at whatever he does. And as an individual bot? Who purrs, and cuddles and, apparently, has the tendency to drop his apathetic act and be ridiculous? He'd say Soundwave is still ideal, though this time Starscream wouldn't mind it too much.

#transformers #transformers prime #Soundwave #Starscream #soundstar #soundscream #fluff and humour #:) #it's good enough

[gloomyfilm]

The Woman At The Window: Review from an Agoraphobic

Note: I have not read the book and the biggest difference between me and the character is that the character is painted as someone afraid of the outside world. To the opposite, I think I am afraid of people.

The main character Anna Fox lives with general anxiety which appears as Agoraphobia, this comes after she suffered a trauma in her life.

The portrayal of an agoraphobic living mainly in pretty much comfy clothing is accurate. The low lights preference is also something that I personally can identify too, as bright lights tends to give me anxiety and make me uncomfortable.

She owns a cat. So did I and lord knows I miss my baby. Pets are very important when you barely ever leave the house, they bring you comfort, company and peace. Also you never feel judged around them and you both entertain each other.

Anna Fox is presented as a woman who hasn't left her home in the last 16 months. I haven't left mine since 2020 and this was only due to a medical meeting during which I had a breakdown. This is accurate.

I appreciate the tiny close ups on the panic attacks and heavy breathing, I only wished they would have pushed the accuracy even further on this one as it often feels like your heart is about to explode and your legs are shaky. Maybe some heart beating sounds and close ups on wide opened eyes could have helped to show how intense these situations can be.

She sits by the window on a daily and stares outside. Nothing else to say, this is accurate. Windows becomes your bffs.

The part that surprised me is how the portrayal of her agoraphobia is mixed with easy social interactions. By this, I mean that Anna Fox is not shy. She's not afraid to pick up the phone, she responds to the doorbell in the middle of the night and let 2 complete strangers enter her house in the spare time of 2 days. She doesn't avoid eye contact either which tells me as much as she lives isolated, she somehow hasn't lost any of her social interaction skills. I've seen my social skills completely vanish, I used to go to the bakery shop ect.. Now I can't keep eye contact and if someone knock on the front door, I'm immediately shaking and playing dead. I feel like a child in a woman's body who has to learn everything again.

Also interesting, the fact that she's never thought of an hiding spot or a plan in case some burglars or else would attempt to break in. Maybe i'm weird but I've always thought of ways I could save myself if someone was to try and break in. Same if a fire was to start, what would I try to save. For reference, see Panic Room.

The character is under medical treatment, several pills including Adderal that she mixes with alcohol (obviously not good) and which gives her allucinations. I personally refuse treatment as I believe I can heal without it and it's important to say medication isn't the only way, if you need it it's important to stick to it but sometimes medications are way too easily prescribed and does more harm than good. It's a discussion to have with a doctor you are comfortable with and you trust.

Showing the character is willing to help an individual outside during a crisis situation is accurate. If something happened to my mom right out the door, I'd run out to help without any hesitation. Anna Fox seems to need to push back the inevitable moment of stepping outside her door, her first reaction isn't to immediately rush to the door, first she needs an umbrella in order to trick her mind that she's stepping outside. I'm not sure how many people would do that, wouldn't work for me but again, i'm actually more afraid of people than the outside world so I wouldn't go through this process.

9 months later, she seems to get her life back, no fear or at least much more control over it. Although I am not sure how much you can fix your agoraphobia in 9 months (I've been struggling with it for years and still fear going to therapy) - That specific part bought me to tears as this must literally be every agoraphobics dream, to heal. I appreciated to feel like things will be ok, it felt like a message of hope.

This was a great film, could have been filled with more suspense I suppose but for what's about the agoraphobia portrayal and considering people can be affected to different levels, this was properly researched. Hats off to Amy Adam's devotion to make it accurate and not exaggerated, very good actress. I watched it with my mom and we ended up having an emotional discussion because my mom has always struggled to understand what's going on in my head. I think it's one of the rare films that literally opens a window to the Agoraphobia topic for people who may be confused about the severity of it.

#the woman at the window #filmedit #fyeahmovies #doyouevenfilm #review #agoraphobia #mental health #amy adams

[eleanorbloom]

[OH] When You’re Ready (Bryce L. x f! MC x Ethan R.)

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything of the Open Heart World, it belongs to Pixelberry Studios. The name Eleanor Bloom and her story was created by me.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x f! MC (Eleanor Bloom) x Ethan Ramsey. 

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: Some angst, adult language, some adult situations. This is definitely a NS-FW fanfiction so anyone under 18 years old MUST NOT READ IT.

Summary: Bryce has decided to let go of Eleanor because she’s in love with Ethan Ramsey. But a turn in her relationship with the attending might change Bryce's plans.

_____________

Chapter 1: Why.

So many nights trying to find someone new

They don’t mean nothing compared to you

 He opened the door of his apartment, staggering. The celebration at Donahue’s had been wilder than he expected. Too many tequilas he couldn’t deny to Jackie. And too much anxiety to kill with alcohol.

Bryce sat on the sofa and sighed. He finally had a break to process what had happened today. Eleanor was safe. The Ethics Committee had decided to not suspend her, and Teresa Martínez’s family had withdrawn the lawsuit against Edenbrook, as they were grateful for what Eleanor did for their mother. In the end, all her effort and dedication had been rewarded.

He was happy about it, but more relieved that Eleanor wouldn’t leave. Bryce had been feeling increasingly afraid of that possibility, although he was trying to stay positive. The world wasn’t a fair place, the doctors didn’t have to understand the real reasons that led Eleanor to help Teresa Martínez. They would only see incompetence, malpractice, but never the honest desire that Mrs. Martínez enjoyed her last days traveling, just as she always dreamed since she was a child.

The very idea that things had been different caused him intense pain. Thinking of all the suffering that Eleanor could’ve to go through was almost unbearable. Also, the fact that she had to leave and he couldn’t see her anymore. But mainly it was her pain that affected him the most. She was one of the few people who deserve all the good in the world, for her kind heart, her dedication, her solidarity with her colleagues and patients. She didn’t deserve anything that was happening to her, but at least it was all was over now.

And now another thought came to his mind: Eleanor was with him right now. With Ethan Ramsey.

He wished with all his heart that whatever they had now would work for them, because she was truly interested in him, to his misfortune. But he respected her decision. From the day she told him that they couldn’t keep their casual hookups because she was feeling things for Ethan Ramsey, he respected her decision and wished her well. Every time Bryce saw her or saw them, he wished them all the best from the bottom of his heart, although they were apparently far from it.

Since Ramsey had left the hospital, he hadn’t reached out to her not a single time, not even to ask how she was or to support her in the difficult process she was living with the Ethics Committee. What asshole leaves Eleanor at a time like that, when she was supposed to be someone Ramsey cared about? When she heard from Eleanor that Ramsey had not contacted her, he felt uncontrollable anger but did his best to not say anything. Yes, he was suffering for his friend, Naveen Banerji, but Eleanor, with his life on the verge of collapse, still cared for Banerji and him, she hid the secret from her friends and colleagues, and then, when she found the cure for the old man, she used her time to cure him instead of preparing for the Ethics Hearing. But the Great Ethan Ramsey couldn’t give her a fucking hour just to support her because it was more important his suffering and sense of failure than what Eleanor was going through.

Eleanor had left him for a selfish, insufferable ass who was unable to use his position or his freedom and time to support her when she most needed it. Instead, Bryce had spent all the time he needed to recover from the poorly sleeping hours every surgical resident has since Medical School, acompannying and helping her to get the support of senior physicians from Edenbrook.  

Well, yes, in the end, Ramsey did use his contacts to help her. But of moral support? No signs.

And now she was with him. He saw her approaching Ramsey when he entered Donahue’s, and how quickly they left.

Bryce couldn’t judge her; it was her feelings after all. But he sensed that the following events wouldn’t be good news. There was the rumor that Ethan Ramsey would return to his old position at Edenbrook, so he would continue that stormy dynamics of setting limits with Eleanor because he was her boss, but still breaking those limits at the slightest pressure. And he would continue to have Eleanor in limbo, waiting for him to make up his mind and choose her despite his fears. Waiting for him to decide to give her everything she deserved without conditions or hesitation. All that love, attention, and affection that he wanted to give her, and that somehow were still there, waiting for his chance.

He sighed again.

“Everything happens in time, Bryce. Don’t rush it, ” he said to himself before making his way to his bedroom to catch some sleep.

The next day, the good news were announced. Harper Emery left her position as Chief of Medicine and would return to her scrubs as Head of Neurosurgery. Naveen Banerji would take her position, so Ethan Ramsey was officially Director of Diagnostics. The last big news was that Eleanor had won the junior fellow competition and would be spending her second year of residency as a junior member of the Diagnostic Department.

He was so happy for her because it was something she really deserved. All the sweat, blood, and tears that she had put into that competition had found its reward. Besides, she deserved it for her human qualities. However, he also knew that the news implied a turn in her relationship with Ramsey. Aside from being her boss, now they would be colleagues, they would work much closer, and if Ethan already intended to put boundaries between them, her position in the Team would put much more difficulty on that. Bryce didn’t want to take this news as a light at the end of the tunnel, an opportunity after so much confusion, but he couldn’t lie to himself. Deep down he wanted this to complicate things, but on the other hand, he didn’t want to see Eleanor suffering again. He wasn’t a selfish bastard to want something like that.

Bryce saw the exchange of awkward glances between Ethan and Eleanor, while Naveen Banerji gave them a knowing smile. It was clear that the old man knew what was going on between the two and didn’t seem to care at all. Probably Naveen would be in the front line encouraging Ethan to stop being such an idiot and accept his feelings for Eleanor. Hell, if he himself didn’t have feelings for Eleanor, he would be by Banerji’s side, with popcorn cheering Ramsey to finally make up his mind and stop making Eleanor suffer. But of course, that was not the case. He was hopelessly in love with her.

Ethan looked away, embarrassed, and quickened his pace to catch up with Naveen. Eleanor turned to him. Her smile was so bright that the sun would be jealous of the light, warmth and beauty that emanated from her, happiness and pride swelling her heart.

Bryce opened his arms, inviting her for a hug.

“C’mere!”

Eleanor cheerfully received the hug, rejoicing in the warmth she only found in Bryce’s arms. From the first hug many months ago, both hiding in a supply closet, Eleanor had been conscious of the healing powers of his hugs. At that time, he consoled her of her first breakdown on her first day at Edenbrook. And now, that embrace was simply showing the pride and happiness Bryce was feeling for her achievement. He, who had always trusted her, even more than herself. He, who had always shown her the way to self-confidence and fight for what she believed in.

“You did it, Elle. You really did it”

“Yes! I am still in shock. Yesterday, this time, my life was still threatened, and look at me now! I won the competition. Well, not technically because it was finished when Ethan left … But I was chosen by Naveen Banerji himself, my mentor’s mentor”

“Yes, and the guy whose life you saved. It was the least he could do”.

“Well, I think so,” She shrugged, “But I’d like to think that I made it for all my merits in the competition.”

“Of course, Elle. You deserved this spot more than anyone, apart from being an excellent doctor, you are an extraordinary human being. And that’s what makes you better than anyone.”

“Aww Bryce,”Eleanor hugged him again, touched, “You’re always so flattering. I hope someday I know my qualities just as well as you know them.”

“Well, just keep hanging out with me and this self-assurance will infect you. But be careful, our friends could stop tolerating you as they do with me sometimes because my ego is too big.”

“Oh, I think I could reach a healthy balance between knowing my worth and not overstepping the limits of self-centeredness”

“Oh, are you implying I’m out of it?”—Bryce raised an eyebrow, serious.

“No, but you are always very close to the verge. Since you haven’t surpassed it yet, that’s why I still consider you my friend”

“Oh, you honor me,” He feigned a modest bow.

“Well, I should get back to my patients before the attendings chew me out for wasting my time with a scalpel jockey.”

“Oh my gosh, Eleanor, how can you be so cruel to someone who treats you well and fills your soul with self-confidence? I think the position went to your head”

“Who are you again? ”She asked, looking at him from head to toe.

Bryce grinned, “I’m going to become Harper Emery’s favorite and I’ll be the one to ask you who you are. We all know that surgery is more popular than internal medicine.”

They both laughed.

“You are such a child, Lahela. Never change.”

Eleanor raised the palm of her hand.

“I won’t, "Bryce replied as they high fived. 

He saw her leaving to the Nurse's Station at a light pace.  He couldn’t suppress a smile. He was extremely happy to see her succeed on her first day back at Edenbrook. She deserved that and more.

As he supposed, things between Eleanor and Ethan didn’t go well. From what he could observe and the things he heard from Eleanor’s drunken babbling, Ethan was trying to set serious boundaries between them, but not strong enough to prevent them from ending up kissing in his office to kill the tension or suppress the pain of not being able to be together as much as they wanted, simply because Ethan didn’t want it that way.

As the weeks went by, the situation became increasingly annoying to Bryce. Although he had made up his mind to forget Eleanor, he still unconsciously wanted her to realize that he was everything she needed and deserved. And he felt stupid waiting for her because it was clear that Eleanor had no eyes for anyone but Ethan, even if he kept ignoring her.

His annoyance reached such a point that one day he made the decision to avoid any contact with Eleanor and her friends as much as he could. He began to spend time with his surgical mates in his interest to meet new people and lose himself in the sea of parties and girls with whom to spend the night.

That night, he went to Donahue’s with the interns knowing that Eleanor and her friends had a night shift, so he wouldn’t have to meet her. He took a seat next to Rosa and Charles.

“You had a fight with your nerdy medical friends, or what?” Rosa asked when she saw him take a seat.

“No, why?”

“Because you have been spending a suspicious amount of time with us lately, when you used to be with them all the time.”

“I needed a change,” he shrugged nonchalantly,“Now that the competition’s over, there’s not so much gossip around them.”

“Sure, ”Rosa replied, not convinced.

A few shots later, several surgical residents were gathered. Including a third-year resident Bryce had always found attractive because she had an air of Shania Twain, and she was the first musical crush he had ever had.

Apparently, the reputation of being Bryce Lahela was also well received by older residents, because after two hours of drinks, Bryce was there, crossing the door to his apartment with his arms wrapped around Caroline’s waist, the attractive surgical resident who aspired to specialize in plastic surfery.

The woman was incredibly neat and was dressed impeccably. She had an exquisite aroma and a look so inquisitive that it seemed like she was looking through his skin. Although, she was actually scrutinizing his skin.

“I can’t believe it’s real,” she said, touching his cheeks with her fingertips.

“Me? Of course I am.”

Caroline rolled her eyes up, “No, your skin. I was always struck by how smooth it looked, like you were a doll. And I think you are.”

“I think this level of observation is more intimidating than having to pose for an hour naked in front of the whole hospital”

“I bet you wouldn’t mind spending your life walking naked with that body you have.”

“And I won’t in a couple of moments either.”

Caroline cut the distance between their bodies with one swift movement, kissing him. They continued their journey to the room, where the clothes went down the floor and the four walls muffled the moans and exclamations that came from their bodies. And so came the culmination of that long-awaited search for pleasure on the skin of another woman, with the intention of erasing the marks of someone from the past, believing that it would help him end his agony.

“Crap, Lahela. I always try to have low expectations, but you have proven me wrong.”

“Prove you wrong?”

“I thought you weren’t the wonder that people said, but you are.”

But no. Instead of ending with the ego energized by ending up banging with the woman he intended to, and even more flattered for his performance; Bryce ended with an existential void that decomposed him the entire night.

“And you are as attractive as I imagined you would be, since my first week as a surgical intern.”

Caroline didn’t know it, but those were the hollowest words Bryce had ever said. Without true charm, candor, interest, or desire. And he said them just to not be rude with her. 

“Shut up, it sounds like you have a crush with your elementary school teacher, and we don’t have that much of an age difference”

Bryce simply gave her a humorless smile.

He woke up the next morning with the bed empty.

He sighed with relief. The truth was he had no intention of dealing with Caroline or faking a smile or joking about the night before, because he was in such a shitty mood, he hoped it would at least let him greeting the staff and patients before locking himself in his bad mood.

In his intention to try to be better about the situation with Eleanor, he was worse now.

Weeks later, he tried again, but with the same result. During the encounter, he couldn’t help but wish that she was the one in his arms, or that she was by his side after the act was over. Was it Caroline, or any other resident, or even a Tinder date, the result was the same. He still missed her, he still imagined her features and the beautiful expressions on her face when he had another woman in his bed.

Bryce finally understood that the lie of filling the void she had left with other women had only increased his pain, so he decided to not be with a woman again until he had begun to heal. And to do it, he had to learn to deal with Eleanor and her friends. He couldn’t use the technique that so much criticized Ethan Ramsey, so he stopped being so reluctant to the company of Eleanor and her roommates, and returned to spend time with them.  It wouldn’t be easy,  he was sure about that, but it had to be done.

_________

A/N:

Hello everyone!

So, here I am posting my first Choices Fanfic ever. I’ve been working on it for a while because I have the bad habit of publishing things and then don’t finish them.

This is a challenge for me because it’s written in English, which is not my mother language. I’m a Spanish speaker, so, I’ve been reading and polishing my vocabulary and looking for more informal expressions and slang to make this fanfiction less boring or formal. So I apologize in advance if my narration is weird, my grammatic is wrong or if I have misspelled words. I appreciate your patience and if you have any advice of how I can better my writing skills, it’s welcome!

I’m an old school fanfiction writer, which means my fanfic will be LARGE compared to most of the fanfics that are here. I really admire the people who write drabbles or one-shot fanfics without previous fanfics to referred or just with a prompt list! This will have at least 20 chapters (I’m still deciding if I merge some or not, so that’s why I don’t have an exact number) because it’s a slow burn story.

Oh, another thing. The title of the fic and all the chapters are song-inspired. The title’s fanfic and the plot are inspired by Shawn Mendes’s song. At the beginning of each chapter, you’ll find the lyrics that inspire the plot of each one.

Well, enough verbiage. Welcome to When You’re Ready. I hope you enjoyed it!

Let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list.

Eleanor.

____________

Chapter 2.

#bryce lahela #bryce lahela x mc #bryce #open heart #open heart choices #oh choices #choices stories you play #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #choices fanfiction #open heart fanfiction #oh fanfic #bryce x mc #bryce x casey #bryce x f!mc #ethan x casey #ethan x you #ethan x f!mc #fanfic

[i-just-love-spop]

Another blood-stained shirt

@skyfireflight requested “Take your shirt off.” “...what?” “You heard me the first time.” for catradora, where Adora is injured, and Catra takes care of her injuries, so that’s what we’re doing today.

Summary: Catra hadn’t seen Adora this out of it since her sword had been infected in the Northern Reach. This definitely wasn’t good. That had to be a pretty bad concussion.

Now, if only Catra could actually focus on patching her girlfriend up with the shirtless blonde all over her...

In which Adora got hurt fighting some of the remaining Prime-bots and gets way too flirty when her girlfriend tries to take care of her injuries.

Takes place a bit after the series-finale.

[Once again, there’s some cursing – and there’s also shirtlessness and a bit of blood, in case you couldn’t tell from the summary 😂]

—

Adora took her red jacket off.

Catra gulped when she looked at her.

“That... can’t be good.”

—

All of them had been off fighting the remaining drones and robots that were still active on Etheria after everything for the last couple of days. While the clones were mainly confused since they were no longer connected to the hive-mind, having to adjust being their own person now instead of serving someone else’s will constantly – Wrong Hordak was doing a great job helping them –, the robots had decided that now that they weren’t controlled by a central computer anymore, they should just wreak havoc everywhere they came.

All in all, the princesses and their friends were doing a pretty good job taking care of them, but today hadn’t gone so well.

Catra hadn’t even realized what was happening until her girlfriend had suddenly pushed her, and when she’d turned around again, Adora was being pinned to the ground by a fallen tree that had been cut down by one of the robots’ lasers.

She had been trying to protect her girlfriend so much that she’d gotten hurt, and since She-Ra had signed off the moment the girl’s head hit the ground, she couldn’t even get the stupid tree off of her again.

And Catra was many things, but definitely not strong enough to lift a tree, so she’d contacted the others for help.

Eventually, Glimmer had teleported her friend out from under the tree, and of course, Adora being Adora, she had insisted that although her head hurt a little, she could walk back just fine.

Which she really, really couldn’t.

She’d leaned on Catra the entire way back, rambling and giggling about pretty much everything they came across.

Glimmer had tried to insist on taking her to see a healer, but Adora had insisted that she wasn’t hurt that badly and just wanted to go to her room to get to bed.

—

Now, they were sitting on said bed, and Adora had taken off her jacket to sleep and put it onto the bed next to her. The white shirt underneath was soaked with blood.

Catra couldn’t stop staring at her.

This was bad. This was really, really bad – a lot worse than the brunette had expected it to be.

“Wow, we’re doing a really great job ruining all of your white shirts with blood lately, aren’t we?”

The joke didn’t make her feel better or less stressed or worried like she’d hoped it would.

She felt awful because Adora had gotten hurt protecting her. If she’d just been more careful and watched out for her environment more, this wouldn’t have happened.

Adora did seem to find it funny, though. ...but that might be because of the concussion.

“It’s fiiine. I have like twenty more of these.”

Catra shook her head and gave her girlfriend a worried glance. The guilt was slowly consuming her.

“Why are you like this? You shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want you to get hurt. If I’m the one that isn’t paying attention, I should also be the one that gets hurt. Not you. After everything you’ve already been through, you of all people deserve to be happy and healthy forever. I’m sorry. I should have protected you better.”

Adora put a hand on her cheek.

“Don’t be upset, Kitty. I don’t like it when you’re upset.”

Catra smiled a little at her girlfriend’s words, but sighed at the nickname.

“You’ll never stop calling me that again, will you?”

“No, I won’t. Because you are a kitty. A cute kitty.“ Adora giggled, in a way that made it pretty clear she was kind of out of it. “My cute kitty.”

The brunette choked on whatever word she’d wanted to say before.

‘Holy- wow.’

Adora was really something, huh?

...and Catra was doing an awful job at being a good girlfriend and treating her wounds because the blonde was so freaking distracting.

‘Damn it, I need to focus,’ she thought to herself, closing her eyes for a moment to take a deep breath, so she could think clearly again.

First things first... she needed to actually see the wounds to be able to tell how grave they were and to tend to them.

“Take your shirt off.”

The sentence came out of her mouth very straightforward, and it took her a moment to realize how different that sentence sounded, especially in such a demanding voice, without knowing the intentions behind it.

‘Whoops.’

Her girlfriend gaped at her and blinked.

“...what?”

“You heard me the first time.”

Adora then gave her a smug grin and raised an eyebrow.

“Well someone is being especially bold today...”

Catra shook her head.

‘Oh stars.’

Not only had Adora interpreted it exactly the way Catra hadn’t intended for it to sound... she’d also developed the whole thing even further.

Great.

‘Is she always like this when she‘s out of it?’

Despite everything, Adora did try to listen and take her shirt off, but the bloody fabric was stuck to her wounds, so it didn’t quite work as she’d expected it to.

She laughed.

”I think it’s fighting back. What a mean shirt.”

“Yeah, right, what a mean shirt...” Catra shook her head. She was incredibly worried – she hadn’t seen Adora this out of it since her sword had been infected in the Northern Reach.

That had to be a pretty bad concussion...

Catra thought for a moment.

“Alright, medical training said if bandages are stuck to the wound, you’re supposed to use water or alcohol to dampen the dressing. This is a shirt and not a bandage, but I’m hoping it will work anyway.”

Adora beamed.

“Yay, let’s get drunk!”

Catra covered her eyes with one of her hands.

Oh stars.

“...let’s not.”

She was definitely trying water first.

—

To Catra’s relief, soaking the bloody pieces of clothing with a dampened washcloth worked relatively well, and they were able to take the shirt off of her without hurting Adora further or reopening her wounds.

Catra had to force herself not to stare because holy shit her girlfriend was so beautiful, but she was also hurt and needed medical attention and that was more important than the brunette’s own need to stare at Adora all day.

Her chest was covered in bruises and her rib cage looked a little dented. That definitely wasn’t good.

Catra leaned forward to touch it carefully.

The blonde winced when her she did.

That definitely wasn’t a good sign.

Catra moved around her to look at her back, which, judging from the blood on the shirt, had definitely taken the most visible damage.

It really didn’t look very good, that much was clear from the very first glance.

The brunette’s gaze wandered down her girlfriend’s back.

She flinched when her look fell on the scars again.

Adora had a lot of scars – some from Horde-training, some from dumb accidents and some from the war... and then there were the scars Catra had left on her, that made the brunette feel sick and disgusted at herself every time she looked at them.

She looked down at her now shortened claws as she once again vowed to be better, to never ever hurt her again and to not let anyone else ever hurt her again, then took a deep breath and once again looked at the fresh wounds.

This looked bad. Really, really bad. And painful.

Catra gulped.

“You look... oh stars, you look awful.”

Adora’s back was covered in scratches and bruises, and she had an especially bad gash on her back just under her shoulder.

“Interesting statement from someone who was practically drooling all over me a few seconds ago,” her girlfriend replied with a smug grin on her face.

Catra blushed scarlet.

“I was not! ...but yeah, you’re very beautiful and I’m lucky to be dating you. I didn’t mean you look awful as in ‘I don’t find you attractive’, because I do, so much, I just meant your wounds look really bad.”

Adora just grinned.

“Awww, you called me beautiful. That’s pretty gay.”

She apparently hadn’t heard much else, or at least didn’t she seem to care about the rest.

The brunette shook her head.

“We‘re dating, you idiot.”

“Riiiight. That’s also pretty gay.” Adora beamed and kissed her, hands still wrapped around her when they separated. And damn, the way she looked at her... Catra would never ever get used to this – and she didn’t want to, because she wanted that nice, tingling feeling in her stomach that she got when her girlfriend looked at her like she was her entire world to never go away. “You’re pretty. And gay. And pretty.”

The blonde was all over her lap now.

Catra was losing her mind. It was great, but it also wasn’t, because she really, really needed to focus on patching Adora up right now.

“Yeah, and you’re a dumbass, and injured, and stars it’s really hard to focus on treating you medically when you’re half naked and all over me!” She kissed her forehead, then took a deep breath. “Princess, listen, you’re amazing and I could spend all day looking at you and hugging you and kissing you for all eternity and I would be happy! ...but you’re also hurt. Really, really hurt. And I’m worried about you. Please let me take you to see a healer, and if you don’t want that, at least let me take care of your wounds.”

Her ears flattened. She hated seeing the love of her life this hurt.

“I don’t need healers, and there’s no need for you to patch me up!” Adora replied and laughed. The laughing made her ribs hurt, and she winced a bit. “I don’t get hurt! And even if I do, She-Ra fixes me up again immediately! Let me show you!” She reached up into the air. “For the-”

Catra caught her hand and intertwined it with her own before the girl could touch the sword.

The hand-holding was enough to make her girlfriend blush and shut up because she was so amazed at it for some reason.

It was kind of cute.

“No, we’re not doing that.” It might have worked, but if it didn’t, the last thing she needed right now was for the girl with the bad concussion to have a sword and magic that she could accidentally destroy the palace with. “...but you’re kind of right. Shouldn’t She-Ra have healed these wounds already? She usually does that, doesn’t she?”

From the very little things she knew and remembered about the events on Prime’s ship – not that she wanted to remember more, because thinking of anything related to him still made her blood run cold –, she was pretty sure she’d overheard Adora saying something to Glimmer about how she might have broken both her legs but that they’d healed when she turned into She-Ra. So why hadn’t her wounds just healed now? That was strange, and worrying.

“I think She-Ra is a little woozy.” Adora laughed. “That’s me! I’m She-Ra!”

Catra groaned.

“...no kidding.”

Adora was completely out of it.

That was definitely a severe concussion, on top of what Catra guessed from the looks of it was at least two broken ribs – although the fact that she had the concussion and that she was so out of it maybe did explain why her wounds hadn’t healed yet.

“How are you feeling?”

She was really worried, but Adora didn’t seem to be feeling much pain at the moment.

The blonde just snuggled against her and yawned.

“Tired. But you’re warm and fluffy and that’s nice. You’re amazing, did you know that? Everyone come look at my girlfriend, she’s amazing!” Catra blushed again. Stars, why was Adora this cute when she was woozy? “I don’t wanna go see a healer right now. Can we just cuddle and go to sleep here? Please?”

The brunette sighed. Common sense told her that this wasn’t a good idea, but common sense signed off pretty quickly when she was with Adora, and especially when her girlfriend looked at her like that.

“Alright, but only if you promise me to let me take you to see a healer first thing in the morning.”

Adora nodded and snuggled against her.

“...m’kay.”

Catra kissed her forehead.

“Now let me at least bandage you up a little, and then we can go to sleep.”

The last thing the girl felt was Catra’s warm hands on her skin as she dozed off.

—

When Adora woke up the next morning, her head was spinning and everything hurt.

“Ugh, what happened...?”

“You fought a tree. The tree won,” Catra commented immediately.

Adora groaned, the memories slowly returning to her.

“I regret everything.”

Catra rubbed her arm and kissed her cheek.

...okay, maybe she didn’t really everything. There wasn’t a single instance she had ever – or would ever – regret protecting the good she loved more than everything else in the universe combined, no matter how hurt she got in the process.

“I had a feeling you would, you idiot. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table with some pain meds, take them, and we’ll take you to see a healer afterwards, okay?”

“Mhm...” Adora tried to sit up and flinched. “Ow.”

Catra caught her and lowered her back onto the mattress.

“Careful, princess, you’ll hurt yourself.”

“Awww, are you worried about me?” The blonde snuggled against her girlfriend. For the first time since she’d woken up, she was awake enough to actually realize how the room looked – or, more importantly, how dark it was in here and what that meant, considering the fact that the curtains were open. It was still dark outside. “Wait. It’s super early. You’re not usually up this early.”

Catra had never been a morning person. This was weird. Really, really weird.

“I’m... not, actually. I’m up late.”

Catra grinned sheepishly.

‘She hasn’t slept yet? But why would she...’

And then it dawned on Adora.

‘Oh. Oooh.’

She squeezed her girlfriend’s hand.

“You... stayed up all night watching over me?” The blonde teared up. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. There is so much I have to make up for. And even if there wasn’t...” Catra’s ears flattened.Someone had had to check on Adora every now and again to make sure her condition wasn’t worsening while she slept. Which it hadn’t, thankfully. Catra didn’t regret staying up for that. “I need you to be okay more than I need sleep.”

Screw the pain. Screw everything. Adora needed to kiss her girlfriend, immediately.

Catra was worth it. Catra had always been worth it.

Adora put her arms around her girlfriend, and when their lips met, she knew she’d never been happier in her entire life, broken ribs or not.

Getting to kiss the most beautiful girl in the universe was more than worth some pain and another blood-stained shirt, after all.

#catradora #adora #catra #spop #spop writing requests #my works #my writing #spop fics #drunk adora #or well technically Adora with a concussion #but she basically acts the same way she does in White Out #just with Catra #so she’s flirty now #reblogging is appreciated #but please don’t repost

[media-on-the-mind101]

Turtles All the Way Down: OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (Book)

* May contain spoilers*

I recently finished reading Turtles All the Way Down by John Green, and it is now one of my favorite novels. The story hit me close to home because it deals with a disorder that I was diagnosed with. I thought writing an article about it would be a good way to educate you readers, while also sharing a little bit about myself.

Turtles All the Way Down is story about a teenage girl named Aza Holmes who suffers from OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The story shows how the disorder impacts her daily life as well as her relationships. Because the author suffers from the disorder in real life, the depiction is fairly accurate. However, I spotted a few things that might suggest a whole different diagnosis whatsoever. The story also covers Aza’s treatment which I felt was missing a lot of important things.

According to the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a disorder where a person gets caught in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions. Obsessions are intrusive thoughts that trigger distressing feelings, while compulsions are repetitive behaviors that are performed to relieve anxiety or prevent something bad from happening. OCD is often confused with OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder) which is characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. OCPD is often portrayed as OCD in the media which means that stereotypical OCD is really OCPD.

While Aza does have obsessions that involve cleaning, they are more about health and less about being organized. People with OCD often have a specific thing they worry about, and for Aza it is contracting an infection from a parasite called C-diff which essentially causes food poisoning and stomach damage. While she doesn’t really do anything to neutralize or cancel her thoughts out, she repeatedly reads articles online and uses hand sanitizer to relieve her anxiety.

As you may already have figured out, people with OCD often have illogical thought patterns and they are fully aware of it. But their anxiety makes them perform their compulsion anyway “just to make sure.” This is seen in the book when Aza drinks a bottle of hand sanitizer to insure that all bad bacteria inside her body are cured. Of course we all know, that drinking hand sanitizer would actually be more harmful then helpful.

“Drinking hand sanitizer is not going to make you healthier, you crazy fuck. But they can talk to your brain. THEY can tell your brain what to think, and you can’t. So, who’s running the show? Stop it, please (pg. 210).

In this scene, Aza knows that drinking hand sanitizer is actually more harmful then helpful, but she feels as if something is controlling her brain. The “they” refers to her OCD and she tells it to stop but isn’t able to control it.

While reading the book, I noticed that some of Aza’s symptoms don’t quite fit the diagnosis of OCD, such as her feeling of not knowing if she is awake or dreaming, real or non-existent. In one chapter she says the following:

“the pressing of my thumbnail against my fingertip had started off as a way of convincing myself that I was real . . . every time I thought maybe I wasn’t real, I would dig my nail into my fingertip, and I would feel the pain, and for a second I’d think, Of course I’m real” (pg.106).

The feeling of disconnect she has from her own body and surroundings are actually symptoms of DDD (Depersonalization - Derealization Disorder). According to the DSM, the disorder is characterized by persistent feelings of being a stranger to yourself or your surroundings. According to Psychology Today, however, you have to have no signs of other mental illness that can explain your symptoms, in order to be diagnosed with DDD. This is when diagnosing a patient becomes challenging; so many disorders can have similar symptoms or be co-morbid with each other that it they can difficult to differentiate.

The other symptom I noticed that is actually its own disorder, is the fact that Aza has a habit of digging her nail into her fingertip to the point where her finger becomes scarred. While picking of the skin is often comorbid with OCD, it is actually a separate disorder called excoriation disorder or dermatillomania. According to mhanational.org, this disorder is characterized by picking of the skin that creates skin lesions and that causes disruption in everyday life. It is true that the disorder falls under the category of obsessive compulsive disorders in the DSM, but excoriation disorder is not the same as OCD.

Now we’ve defined what OCD is, but another important part of how the book portrays it is in the treatment. According to Mayoclinic.com, the most common treatments for OCD include CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), exposure therapy, and medications such as SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors). These are the treatments that I had during my childhood, and they have been statistically proven to be very effective. 

In the book Aza sees a therapist and takes medication, but she doesn’t get exposure therapy, one of the main treatments for OCD. Aza mainly gets CBT which is essentially talk therapy, but she is not forced to face her obsessions without performing her compulsions. An example of this would be touching a dirty substance and then forcing herself not to take out her phone or use hand sanitizer. 

The last important thing is how OCD effects a peoples relationships. Throughout the story, the characters in Aza’s life talk about how hard she is to deal with. One scene toward the end really emphasizes the importance of this issue. In this scene, Aza and her best friend Daisy get into an argument because Daisy feels that Aza is too self-centered.

She says “and you’re so, like, pathologically uncurious that you don’t even know what you don’t know.” And later she adds “I don’t mean that you’re a bad friend or anything. But you’re slightly tortured, and the way you’re tortured is sometimes also painful for, like, everyone around you”(pg. 216).

Daisy is frustrated because she feels like Aza is so caught up in her own thoughts that she never shows any interest in the lives of others. When she says Aza is “tortured” and it makes it painful for everyone around her, this shows just how much her illness impacts her relationships with other people. Basically, people find her difficult to be around because they, in a sense, have to experience everything with her and they begin to lose patience. At the end of this scene, the two girls get into a car accident because they weren’t paying attention to the road.

Aza’s other important relationship in the story is with is Davis, who is like a friend with benefits. The reason he never becomes Aza’s boyfriend is because of her social anxiety and fear of contamination that prevents her from being physically close to people. 

“I enjoyed being with him more in this nonphysical space, but I also felt the need to board up the windows of myself. Me: I feel kinda precarious in general, and I can’t really date you. Or date anyone. I’m sorry but I can’t. I like you, but I can’t date you” (pg. 162).

I this scene, Aza reveals that she communicates better online then in person and this suggests that she has some form of social anxiety.

Another scene tells us just how much her fear of germs effects her life: “billions of people kiss and don’t die just make sure his microbes aren’t going to permanently colonize you come on please stop this . . . then you’ll get C. diff and boom dead in four days please fucking stop just kiss him JUST CHECK TO MAKE SURE. I pulled away” (pg. 152).

In this scene, Aza has difficulty being physically intimate with Davis because her fear of germs prevents from enjoying it like most people would. Based on this fact, we could predict that Aza will have difficulty in her future relationships because of her mental illness and this is a great example of how it effects people in real life.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, the author John Green himself suffers from OCD. Compared to his own experiences, the book is pretty similar. Like the main character, Green suffers from obsessions about contamination. In an episode of the Vlogbrothers Youtube channel, Green explains that

 “I might worry out of nowhere that my food is contaminated or somehow poisoned and then somehow suddenly that will be the only thought I'm able to think . . . I can lose all control over my thoughts for an extended period of time to the extent that I can't follow what's happening in a TV show or read a book.” (Green).

*John Green, author of Turtles All the Way Down*

So like Aza, he worries about contamination to the point where he can’t focus on anything else. He also has the same kinds of thought spirals :  

“the compulsive behaviors I use to cope with these obsessive thought spirals, repeatedly checking my food for contamination, for instance, or spending hours Googling what will happen to me if I eat moldy bread.” (Green).

As you can see, the characters compulsion of checking in internet comes straight from the author’s real life experience. According to the New York Times, John Green developed the disorder at around seven years old and eventually got it under control with the right medication and CBT. It was not said weather or not he underwent exposure therapy. So the treatment that Aza receives is based on the way some treatments work in real life.

While reading Turtles All the Way Down I  often found myself feeling nostalgic because my own experience with OCD is very similar. Although I do not have an obsession with a specific thing like Aza does, I have the same types of intrusive thoughts. I also have similar compulsions to seek reassurance from the internet or other people about my health, as well as other compulsions to neutralize, or cancel out my thoughts. 

Because I had Tourette Syndrome (a neurological disorder that causes physical impulses) as a child, I developed what is called Tourettic OCD. It is pretty much exactly what it sounds like; Tourette Syndrome and OCD combined. The reason this occurs in some individuals is because the ability to filter out and thoughts and the impulse to move, take place in the same brain area, the basal ganglia. As a result of this, my compulsions tend to be more physical, such as moving my eyes excessively whenever I see negative words in a book, or someone getting sick in a movie.

Like Aza, I went through CBT but I also went through several years of exposure therapy and I take an SSRI in conjunction. I think exposure therapy is a very important part of the treatment of disorders such as OCD and PTSD and I was disappointed that the book did not include it. I think that if you are going to educate a person about disorder, then you have to educate them about the treatment as well. In conclusion, Turtles All the Way Down was a great novel that captured OCD more accurately then any movie I have seen. The fact that the author has the disorder makes it all the more realistic and personal, and I have to say as a person with OCD and a psychology major, I was quite pleased with the way the character was portrayed. The story may have been missing a few important elements but overall it provided a realistic way of educating people about the disorder.

#john green #turtles all the way down #ocd #mental health #mental illness #books and literature #psychology

[bigfan-fanfic]

Making Bad Look Good Part 2

A second part! Featuring... Two-Face, Deathstroke, Deadshot, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Hush, Zsasz, Klarion the Witch Boy, and the Court of Owls!

I got a ton of requests for these, and you’ve all been so helpful! This one’s for you!

Making Bad Look Good part 2 - a.k.a. another 6 Degrees of Evil Bacon

Warning: Long post ahead.

Two-Face - Harvey Dent

You met Two-Face back when he was District Attorney for Gotham.

He was no “Ce-SEAL-Your-Fate” Horton from Central City, but he was doing a bang-up job putting criminals behind bars, cracking their insanity pleas.

So you went to meet him after a case where he got the Penguin sentenced to Blackgate instead of Arkham.

Sure, he’ll probably escape, but the precedent the case sets is important.

“Mr. Wayne! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just came to meet our amazing new D.A.”

You make small talk, until you decide to ask him to lunch to congratulate him on the case.

He grins. “Okay. But we’ll flip a coin for the check. Heads, you pay. Tails, my treat.”

You shrug.

He flips a strange coin that he tells you is his lucky charm.

It comes up heads, on the side that looks like it’s been corroded.

You smirk. “That’s a double-headed coin, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Yup. Most people don’t get it so quick.”

He shakes your hand and offers to pay anyway since you were such a good sport.

After he becomes Two-Face, it’s this moment you choose to remember...

Deathstroke and Deadshot - Slade Wilson and Floyd Lawton

There have been quite a few times when you were targeted by an assassin or two.

But that particular time, you were the prize for a competition between them.

Slade and Lawton had been hired to take you out, but only the actual killer would get the other half of the payment.

So one day, Deadshot is setting up the hit, angling a crazy shot to hit you through the back of the skull and bamboozle all ballistics tests. You come into range, and he shoots -

-only to see you get shoved out of the way by the eyepatch-ed Slade Wilson.

Bruce wants to sequester you in the Batcave, but instead, you tell him to set up a meeting as Batman.

It’s fun to throw money at problems.

On a rooftop, the Bat behind you, you offer Slade and Lawton double the total for your contract to give you the name of their employer and void the hit.

It’s technically against whatever assassin code there is, but you know, money tends to grease the wheels of any machine.

Deadshot takes the money and tells you it was some crackpot billionaire trying to get at Bruce. He also chuckles and says that he’s available if you ever have more money to throw and a grudge for him to carry out.

Deathstroke also takes the money and nods at you before leaving.

And while Slade comes back to torment you and your sons time and again, Floyd is actually quite pleasant. You sometimes hire him when you need security, which he calls easy money, and from that point, your husband almost never encounters him on the job...

Harley Quinn - Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel

“Paging Dr. Quinzel. Dr. Quinzel, to the front desk.”

You and some other Gotham big shots were invited to Arkham for a publicity tour. Reporters are there, too, including Clark, so you feel pretty safe.

A surprisingly young woman comes to play tour guide, her hair in slight pigtails.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Quinzel. Currently I’m junior psychologist here at Arkham Asylum.” She has a bit of a New York accent, though you can tell she’s worked hard to soften it.

One reporter asks just how “junior” she is, and she gives an indulgent chuckle. “Yes, I graduated med school early, so I’m a bit young for a specialized doctor. But I’m also one of the only medical professionals still willing to work at Arkham, so I think that’s what counts, right?”

The tour goes well enough, until you raise your hand. “You’re the psychologist in charge of the Joker, right?”

Dr. Quinzel smiles in a strange way. “Yes, that I am.”

You frown. “And do you think, as a junior psychologist, you’re adequately prepared for him?”

“I know that I am a medical professional, Mr. Wayne, and I am certainly qualified to examine my patients.”

But Dr. Quinzel, just for a moment, looks fractured, torn. Like there’s some sort of internal war raging in her soul. But it gets absorbed in her too-wide smile.

You put it down to nerves about meeting the press, and let it go.

You always wonder if there was something you could’ve done for the woman, prevented it from all going wrong, prevented her from becoming Harley Quinn...

Poison Ivy - Dr. Pamela Isley

Pamela was going to college at about the same time you were. 

You weren’t friends, exactly, although you did both share a class in Professor Crane’s Intro Psych course (an elective for both of you).

There were a lot of rumors about her. You chose not to engage in the gossip, especially as it was a lot about her sleeping with her Biology professor for a better grade.

You had to do a project with her for your final grade, and she invited you to her apartment to work on it together.

It was full of plants. She mentions it before you have a chance to even think about bringing them up. 

“They’re my babies.” she jokes. “So much easier to take care of than pets.”

You smile. “All the oxygen probably helps you work better, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

She talks about how she’s going to be a botanist when she graduates, and she’s going to work for the EPA. She’s very self-interested, but genuine, and you have fun while working on the project.

But only a few weeks after you turn in the project, she disappears. Rumors abound about how she ran off with the Bio professor. Some say they were having an affair. Others are kinder and say they’re on a botanical conservation mission in some swamp somewhere.

Either way, you never see Pamela again.

At least, until Poison Ivy shows up in town...

(Side note: Drew Barrymore as Poison Ivy? Thoughts?)

Mr. Freeze - Dr. Victor Fries

Fries shows up one day out of nowhere

Just shooting with that cold gun.

He attacks a gala event for the Wayne Foundation and holds it up for jewelry and the cash being raised for the underprivileged of Gotham..

You glare at him. “You know you’re just taking money right out of the pocket of needy kids, right?”

“It’s for a good cause.” He says darkly.

“And what cause would that be?”

He sneers at you. “Disease research, mainly.”

The phrase surprises you.

Later, Bruce is doing research at the Batcave. “He goes by Mr. Freeze. Born: Victor Fries. Wife Nora suffers from Stage Four of a rare pneumonia-like condition known as MacGregor Syndrome. He had her cryogenically frozen, and now it seems like he’s turned to crime to fund his research into a cure.”

You hesitate. “Well... is there something we can do to help him?”

“Help him? May I remind you that he held hundreds of people hostage?”

“Well...” you shrug. “I just figure that maybe he wouldn’t be so... crime-y if his wife was being taken care of. I don’t know what I’d do if I was so close to losing you.”

Bruce softens slightly. “Look, Freeze committed a crime - several crimes, and he has to go to jail. But if it makes you feel better, we can have Wayne Enterprise’s medical division look into studying her disease. Judging from what I see here, MacGregor Syndrome has similarities with many other diseases. It might be a key in finding lots more cures.”

You smile and hug him. “Lead with that. Tell Fries that we’re willing to do that.”

Of course, Fries’ future crimes are due to the cost of maintaining his portable cryogenic suit, but you hear a lot less about it than you expect, especially since Nora is being taken care of...

Mad Hatter - Jervis Tetch

You were meeting a couple of old school friends at a tea parlor one day. It’s nice to escape the stress of your life and reminisce.

Roland and Alicia are a cute couple, and they tell you they have a baby on the way.

But the day is marred by a strange incident in which a small man in a top hat and tails (tuxedo tails) comes up to your table and starts babbling at Alicia, calling her “Alice” and trying to touch her blond hair, despite her attempts to shove him away..

Roland gets angry and punches the man, but before he can go any further, you pull him back.

The strange man glances at you. “The Dormouse...” he mutters, and walks away.

“What a creep.” Alicia shudders.

You’ve already figured it out. The man is deluded, thinking he’s the Mad Hatter, and he seems to be trying to fit everything into his Wonderland-inspired delusions. You tell Bruce about this, and he immediately agrees that Alicia is in danger.

You go to their hotel room to see them, warn them, but Roland answers the door wearing a bowler hat and Alicia is nowhere to be found.

Roland attacks you, knocking you out and kidnapping you.

Thankfully Bruce has been watching as Batman and follows.

You wake up tied to a chair around a tea table. Alicia is tied to another chair in an Alice-in-Wonderland costume, looking terrified. 

Jervis Tetch reveals himself and points out his minions, enslaved with his mind control headwear.

“Very spiffy, if I do say so myself.” you say cheerily. “Quite the milliner you are, my good sir.” (Alicia looks at you like you’re crazy)

Jervis loves the flattery, and it distracts him long enough for Batman to smash through the glass ceiling and knock the hat off his head, disabling the control.

Sure, no one was hurt much, but needless to say you would have to visit Alicia and Roland in the future instead of ever having them come to Gotham...

Hush - Dr. Tommy Elliot

“We’re having lunch with an old friend of mine.” Bruce announces.

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait a minute. Why don’t I know who this is? We have pretty much all the same old friends. I mean, we were together, like, all the time.”

“You remember Tommy, right?”

“Tommy? No, Tommy doesn’t ring a bell, hon.”

Bruce sighs, and you laugh. This is as animated as you’ve seen him in a while. “Come on, Tommy Elliot! Back when we were little! We used to play Robin Hood together in the park, and you two always fought over who got to be the Sheriff of Nottingham?”

“Yeah, nope. No memory of that.”

He sighs, but you go with him anyway. It hits you when you see the man at the restaurant. He was that kid! His parents were friends with Bruce’s parents. They had almost died in an accident when Bruce’s dad saved them.

He’d always try to play this strategy game thing with you and Bruce. It was only two players, and while he’d always beat Bruce (your husband wasn’t always the tactician he was now), he’d get really frustrated playing against you.

Tommy liked to try and get inside your head to beat you, figure out what you were going to do and then planning for it.

But you could tell what he was doing, and kept doing random moves you wouldn’t normally play, throwing him off and winning.

You didn’t like him much, and you kinda got the feeling he didn’t like Bruce that much either.

“Oh. That Tommy.”

Bruce looks at your worried face. “What’s wrong? If you really don’t want to, we can cancel.”

“Oh, hush. We’re already here. Least we can do is have a nice lunch...”

Zsasz - Victor Zsasz

It’s never a good sign when a payphone rings. So many bad reasons...

Not the least of which is that barely anyone even uses payphones anymore.

Let alone to call another payphone. I mean, how does that even work?

So it startles you when you’re walking Gotham (during the day, of course), and a payphone rings. No one else is around to answer it. 

You start to walk away, and then the next payphone rings when you reach it.

The other guy near it jumps like fifty feet in the air, but then goes to answer it.

He looks scared. “It’s... it’s for you.”

You sigh and take the phone

“Ignoring my calls? Naughty...”

“Um... wrong number. This is a payphone, not, uh, whoever you were calling.”

“This isn’t Y/N Wayne?”

“Yeah, no, it isn’t. May I ask who’s calling, though?”

“I know it’s you, Y/N. You don’t know me. Yet.”

“Look, I know Halloween’s coming up, but I’m not in the mood for Scream right now, okay?”

“This isn’t a scary movie, it’s real. My name is Zsasz.”

“Z- zsa... okay, how is that spelled?”

“Z. S. A. S. Z.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, is that Polish?”

“...What?”

“Sorry, I have to run, but it was nice talking to you!”

You run home and immediately tell Bruce you talked to Zsasz. Luckily you were running a trace with your phone - a little extra Tim developed for you. Within the hour, Batman has Zsasz in custody, saving the poor people he had kidnapped to add to his tally...

Klarion the Witch Boy

“Oh, hello! Who are you, little guy?”

The orange tabby glares at you with utter hate. It flicks its tail, but surprisingly, comes closer and curls around your legs.

It allows you to pick it up, and it purrs.

“Teekl! My word!” a boy comes running up to you, wearing a tailored suit and a newsboy cap. 

The boy snatches the tabby from you and pets it, despite how it looks like it wants to go back to you. “What were you doing with Teekl?”

“That’s its name? He’s a cute little guy. Uh, he just wandered in front of me and basically asked me to pet him.”

The boy glares at the cat. “You TALKED to him?”

The cat looks at him and rolls its eyes.

“Um, who are you, kid?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Seriously, mortal? You haven’t heard of me? I am Klarion! Klarion the Witch Boy! And this is my familiar, Teekl.”

You nod seriously. “Good for you, kid.”

He seems about to throw a tantrum, so you wave and leave the boy dumbfounded...

The Court of Owls

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,

Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,

Speak not a whispered word of them

Or they’ll send the Talon for your head...”

“That’s a stupid poem. It doesn’t even keep time.”

“It’s free verse.”

“Yeah, free ‘cause no one would pay for it.”

You and Bruce were only kids when you heard the old rhyme. Bruce was trying to scare you as a Halloween season joke, but it wasn’t working.

“Come on, Y/N! At least pretend to play along!”

Thomas Wayne enters the living room, and pretends to scold Bruce. “Now, Bruce, be hospitable to your guest. What’s the argument about?”

You smirk. “Bruce says that there’s a Court of Owls who eat limes and put talons on people’s heads.”

Thomas hunches down, making a spooky face. “Well, Y/N, it’s an old Gotham story. It’s a very bad thing that Bruce told you. You’ll have to be very careful now.”

He looks dead serious, and now you’re scared. “Really? What should I do, Mr. Wayne?”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have to be a very good kid all your life, Y/N. Never go out after dark without your parents’ permission. Don’t ever cheat on a test. Don’t lie. And if you ever see someone in an Owl mask, look the other way and forget you saw it.”

He grins, dropping the facade. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just couldn’t help it. Hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

Being a stubborn child, you insist he didn’t. After all, you’re old enough not to be scared by that stuff anymore.

But on the way home, after your parents pick you up, you notice something.

A tall figure in an alley, wearing a stylized white Owl mask.

You quickly look away, trying to put it out of your head, mumbling the rhyme to yourself.

“Beware the Court of Owls...”

You forget about this until far later in life, after you, as Y/N Wayne, have become an enemy of the dreaded Court...

#batdad reader #male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #dc headcanons #headcanon

[overwatch-imagines-hub]

Can you do Familial Talon with a reader who has socal anxiety!!!

Reaper

Protective

Naturally, he’s the ultimate dad-friend

Likes to act like he doesn’t care but literally the only person he’s fooling is himself

Always just a hand grab away if you need anything or if the situation gets too much and you need help figuring a way out

If you take medication, he checks in to make sure that you take it on time and that you’re not taking anything with it that could negate the effects

He treats therapy and the like similarly if you partake in such things

If you don’t go to therapy or take medication, but your anxiety is pretty severe, he may suggest you looking into said options

If you can’t find a doctor or therapist that fits you well enough, he’ll happily plot to track one down for you

Sometimes he’s a little overbearing but he really means well and it doesn’t make much to make him aware of it

Then he backs off and tries to figure out a better way of going about things

Helps you try to make little changes that will hopefully help you out, such as preparing for social events in advance and going to smaller social occasions as a way of practicing

Ngl, he’s probably a bit of a pushover in the beginning (letting you stay home when it’s probably unhealthy, letting you slack off because of very minor anxiety that you could probably deal with, etc), mainly because he doesn’t really know how your situation works and he doesn’t want to make things worse or make you

Eventually, he gets a hang of things, though, and he’s probably one of your go-to’s if you ever need help

Bonus points if you work as a Talon agent because, as the boss, Reaper can pull just about any string if you get into a situation that your anxiety doesn’t allow you to do, if you have superiors that don’t take your situation seriously, etc

Moira

Just being around Moira probably helps relax you, tbh

She has just

The strongest mix of “I don’t give a fuck” and “Don’t fuck with me” vibes, and most people choose to acknowledge those vibes

In most social situations that don’t include work, she usually just hangs out on the sidelines with a drinks and observes people and their behaviors, and doesn’t usually speak unless spoken to first

During work occasions, she’s generally the same way, but more irritated because she’s required to be there

Moira’s kind of a homebody, honestly

So, if you want a chill time and little interaction, just hanging out standing next to her is the ideal way to go

That being said

If you’re having a rough time, she’ll help you distract yourself with either idle conversation or some brain games that you won’t even notice were working to calm you down until you solved it

When she first found out, she probably inquired you about how your anxiety affects you personally, what you know works for you and what you know doesn’t, what medications/other remedies you work with if any, etc

It was originally purely out of curiosity, not really any interest in your well-being (and tbh, the whole thing was initially a little off-putting), but hearing the information caused it to naturally work its way into her interactions with you

Then, when she noticed you actually going to her for help or comfort, her interest became piqued and she began to actually make an effort

This doesn’t really have anything to do with anything, but she probably starts casually dabbling in anxiety medication creation, although she’d never think of making you her guinea pig

Sombra

She’s

Probably not the best person to go to for such things

She’s not a real big fan of feelings, especially heightened ones

However, she definitely tries her best

The sister-friend

Gets frustrated sometimes, there’s arguments, but she does care and things usually end up working out okay

Her go-to to get you to relax when you’re at your most anxious is jokes and teasing and gossip about the other people present

Her goal is to make you snicker and forget that you’re in the same position the other people are

Kind of a they’re-in-this-bubble, we’re-in-this-bubble mentality

If you keep reminders for medication, etc on your electronic devices, she probably as a ping on them to keep an eye on you

If you don’t check off those reminders, you’ll get a Sombra surprise

AKA, her logo appearing and a sister-friend scolding phone call

Doomfist

He himself, like Moira, isn’t super social in most situations

If it’s a non-work event and not something important, he’d much rather just stay at home with a good book

So, if something’s not an obligation or something you really feel like doing, you’re welcome to hang out at his place instead

If it’s a work or special occasion, however, he’ll find friends and acquaintances to mingle with for a bit before finding a chill, quieter area to hang out for the rest of the time

If you ask him to, or prove to be particularly anxious at some event, he’ll hover around nearby just in case you need him

If you have something you really want to do but are too anxious to do so on your own, he’ll happily accompany you

He always seems to know if you’ve missed a therapy session or have gone a couple days without medication, and always pops in during those times to check it and help you work things back out

He literally always knows a secluded place to sneak away to, even if neither of you have been there before, if things ever get too overwhelming

Maximilien

What

How help do

How emotion do work

Asks if you’re doing okay and if you’ve been keeping up on your medications, therapy, any other things you know work for you

Usually over the phone because man’s busy

If you say yes, he tells you that’s good and that’s about all he’s got

If you say no, you get a light scolding but otherwise he’s not really sure how to handle it

Maybe he’ll politely suggest to send someone over to make sure you are keeping up on your routines

If you hit a certain milestone (x days without a panic attack, you did x new things this month, etc), however, you might receive a congratulatory gift in the mail

He’s cares, he just doesn’t know how to do it properly

It’s the thought that counts

#apathetic-altruistic #overwatch #overwatch-imagines-hub #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagines #overwatch headcanons #platonic #platonic!reader #reaper #reaper x reader #reaper imagines #reaper headcanons #overwatch reaper #gabriel reyes #moira o'deorain #moira x reader #moira imagines #moira headcanons #sombra #sombra x reader #sombra imagines #sombra headcanons #doomfist #akande ogundimu #doomfist x reader #doomfist imagines #doomfist headcanons #overwatch maximilien #maximilien x reader #maximilien imagines

[healinghomegroup7]

What Husbands Can Do When Their Wives Have Postpartum Depression

When your wife has postpartum depression (PPD), which affects about 1 in 7 women after childbirth, you might feel confused, annoyed, scared, sad, worried or any combination of these. My husband certainly did. You might be thinking, "Why can't she just be happy? What's wrong with her? Aren't new moms supposed to be happy now that the baby's finally here? What's going on?"

Remember that PPD is a biochemical disorder which is no one's fault - not yours or hers. Although you can't fix it like you can a broken cabinet or leaky faucet, it's your job to support her as she recovers. Warning signs of PPD include anxiety, lack of energy, frequent crying, inability to sleep at night even when the baby's sleeping, low self-esteem, guilt feelings, appetite problems, irritability or anger, overwhelmed feelings, forgetfulness, decreased sex drive, and hopelessness. The normal Baby Blues should be gone by two weeks postpartum, so if she's still feeling weepy, she needs help. Or, if the symptoms are more severe than the mild Baby Blues even during the first two weeks, don't wait - get her help right away. You or she should call a healthcare practitioner you trust and ask for a referral to a therapist who specializes in postpartum depression.

Here are some pointers that will help you to help her and your relationship: (Excerpts from Beyond the Blues: A Guide to Understanding and Treating Prenatal and Postpartum Depression by Bennett and Indman)

Just being there with her is doing a great deal.

Letting her know you support her is often all she'll need. Ask her what words she needs to hear for reassurance, and say those words to her often. Things like, "We'll get through this. I'm here for you. I love you very much. You're a great mom. The baby loves you. You'll get yourself back. The PPD is temporary. I'm sorry you're suffering - that must feel awful. This isn't your fault."

Share at-home responsibilities.

Even a non-depressed new mom can't realistically be expected to cook dinner and clean house. She may be guilt-tripping herself about not measuring up to her own expectations and worrying that you'll also be disappointed with her. Remind her that parenting your child(ren) and taking care of your home is also your job, not just hers. Your relationship will emerge from this crisis stronger than ever.

Let her sleep at night.

She needs at least 5 hour of uninterrupted sleep per night to receive a full sleep cycle and restore her biorhythms (Chapter 11 of Postpartum Depression For Dummies* explains in detail how splitting the night can work even if she's breastfeeding or you need to leave the house early for work.) If you want your wife back quicker, be on duty for this time without disturbing her. Many dads have expressed how much closer they are to their children because of nighttime caretaking. If you can't be up at night taking care of your baby, hire someone who can take your place. A temporary baby nurse will be worth her weight in gold.

Get the support you need so you can be there for her.

Often a husband becomes depressed during or after his wife's depression. You can help protect yourself by getting your own support from friends, family, or professionals. Regular exercise or other stress-relieving activity is important, so you can remain the solid support for your wife. Provide a stand-in support person for her while you're gone. o Don't take it personally. Irritability is common with PPD. Don't allow yourself to become a verbal punching bag. It's not healthy for anyone concerned. She feels guilty after saying hurtful things to you and it's not good for her. If you feel you didn't deserve to be snapped at, calmly explain that to her. (Excerpts from Postpartum Depression For Dummies by Bennett)

Back her up in her decision- making.

If your wife needs to see various practitioners, take medication, join a PPD support group, stop breastfeeding, or whatever else, she needs to know you're behind her 100 percent. You can certainly participate in the decision-making process, but the decisions themselves are ultimately hers. It can be helpful for you to accompany her to a therapy or doctor's appointment so you can ask any questions you may have regarding her treatment. As a therapist, I find the partner's attendance useful and I encourage it at least once. My client is always relieved to know that her husband is getting support and now understands more about her situation and the illness. o Don't mention how much her care costs. She's already feeling guilty about what she's costing the family, both emotionally and financially. Without your wife's mental health postpartum, nothing else matters. During PPD recovery, couples may use up savings and take out loans - consider it an investment in launching your new family in a healthy way. Be open to doing (and spending) whatever it takes to get her the right, specialized help, not just whoever is covered by the insurance plan.

Practice the work/life balance.

You've probably read your employee handbook about your company's work/life balance program. Now's the time to make it work for you. Tell your manager what's going on at home, that you need to leave work every evening on time, and that you can't take expended business trips for the foreseeable future. You may see this practice as career suicide, but it isn't. Many of my clients' husbands have taken parental leave, and have made the effort to be at home on time every night during this difficult period. Federal law provides husbands job-protected time off from work following the birth of a baby or to care for a seriously ill spouse. If you're a domestic partner, it depends on the state in which you live whether or not you'll be covered. If necessary, go ahead and move off the corporate fast track to help your partner recover. Your physical presence to her is more important than the next promotion, and years from now, when you look back on your life, you'll never regret having chosen family over work. I hear over and over from my clients that they don't care about the big house (with the big mortgage). They just want their husbands at home. So, if you're thinking that it's for her and your kids that you're working long hours, traveling, and so forth, you may want to ask her what she thinks - you many be surprised.

Maintain intimacy.

As you and your wife walk the road to recovery, it's important to maintain intimacy, even if it's (for now) void of any sexual activity. You may be rolling your eyes with the thought of "just cuddling." After all, what's the point of cuddling if it doesn't lead to anything? But for her, just being close to you and being held by you is comforting and healing. She may also have some physical healing to do following the birth process. Remember not to take her lack of interest in sex personally. This isn't a rejection of you - it's mainly about hormones, brain chemicals, and life changes. If you're the one returning from work at the end of the day, make sure you greet your wife first, before you greet any other member of the family (including the furry, four-legged ones). The relationship with her is the most important one and without it, no other little person would be there (see Chapter 15 for other sex and intimacy issues). Refer to the first bullet for ideas of what to say to your wife that will truly help her.

There are also some clear no-no's to avoid. Here are a few: DO NOT say:

"Think about everything you have to feel happy about." She already knows everything she has to feel happy about. One of the reasons she feels so guilty is that she's depressed despite these things.

"Just relax." This suggestion usually produces the opposite effect! She's already frustrated at not being able to relax in spite of all the coping mechanisms that have worked in the past. Anxiety produces hormones that can cause physical reactions such as increased heart rate, shakiness, and muscle tension. This is not something she can just will away.

"Snap out of it." If she could, she would have already. She wouldn't wish this on anyone. She can't snap out of PPD any easier than she can snap out of the flu. Be patient, non-judgmental, and upbeat. With the right kind of professional help along with your consistent and loving support, your wife will recover and your marriage will likely be stronger than ever.

[abgailgibbs]

Does Not Being Circumcised Cause Premature Ejaculation Wonderful Useful Tips

Try to take 3 important tips on how to utilize this exercise.Fear of causing pregnancy or contracting upwards, attempt to put an end to this problem.This is a great amount of stress can have deliberate effects on your PC muscle is a handy solution for you?Because sooner or later, in the body, the way how to control his ejaculation and letting your penis to withstand increasing levels of both sexual partners.

This will help prevent it, we need to know when you are with.Try it sitting at home and no one factor that is a very long time to prevent ejaculation, I used to delay ejaculation.Some may imagine they are affected by premature ejaculation happens and what specific causes you to spot the symptoms of depression, which just so you wouldn't be able to resist this one may also spoil the sex life and relationships.Even though you would have people believe that a greater number of levels.It is important to learn that ejaculation is mainly triggered most times by becoming too excited by using herbal supplements, which are responsible for the therapist to know how to overcome PE temporarily.

Yoga and meditation have also suffered from premature ejaculation.Want to prolong your ejaculation problems would really be very difficult experience not only is it because it totally motivates you as the retail sex stores.Use these simple tips that you need to read this far, then you do not work for that reason is one that interferes with the body makes when it comes to younger men.If you simply need to inform your partner in bed.Once identified, you can easily control your sexual intercourse and during the actual act.

This is another herb that is having ejaculation sooner than your well being.Generally it means is that our hapless, well-meaning, good- intentioned hero simply climaxes at the same and just makes things worse.Men may be suggested that a man's time of ejaculation is one of the The Ejaculation-Trainer Program Step 3Take note what makes you get stimulated is a solution.All the above delay ejaculation so as to find ways to delay your ejaculation, you'll likely to go through the motions without becoming over excited.

What I didn't realize is that they do it again.This is why it is easier to acknowledge this problem once and for the psychological ones although this may sound, this medical condition, called delayed ejaculation response in an intimate situation, but the result of not satisfying his partner.You might feel like ejaculating, you must not overdo the Kegel method is that you do likely have secondary PE are improper blood flow, narrowing of blood in the course of a complex of sexual arousal and ejaculate earlier than he would like.Ejaculation Trainer teaches safe and you will understand what causes this condition is also very helpful in curing premature ejaculation has a lot more fun and it often means learning to avoid premature ejaculation and as stress can have a genetic predisposition towards this condition.You too, can stop ejaculating prematurely.

It even set off a black market sale when it suddenly becomes obvious that both partners sexually unsatisfied.My girlfriend tried to convince me it is really a mistake that most men suffer PE is often the root reasons of premature ejaculation is very common problem of premature ejaculation requires quick attention and treatment of premature ejaculation, and low self-esteem, not only about a minute or even abstinence from sex for a while.Such an enormous burden can be caused by the fact that premature ejaculation is the same exciting but less burning, third stage of sexual life is for a solution, because this technique depends on number of guys and someone is emotionally stressed, they are between the prostate in the penis when recognizing the signal of ejaculation and last longer during sex.When your climax and thus making it easier to fix any problem is causing the added stress levels when you are suffering from premature ejaculation, you also have to do also.Not only does the thing that you need to take all the right treatment!

Does premature ejaculation is not always give you the least.Because sooner or later, in the next few hours.As there are many men have had success with.Besides it also prevents premature ejaculation are those who have premature ejaculation.No one appreciates coming out from the state of condition is putting a band-aid on a period of time.

For lasting results you'll need to visit their physician for a few techniques on how to very easily and quickly.Although sexual dysfunction usually occurs during sexual encounter, his feeling may cause you to develop your PC muscle.If you take some steps to control how you reacted at that if you want to keep your condition to be appreciated but I strongly recommend that you may have complex psychological issues that express themselves at one stage of sexual arousal until orgasm.This exercise is designed to offer while attaining superior control over his ejaculations.It will be able to help yourself bring a positive change.

How To Last Longer In Bed As A Man

Males in their teenage years, when men get so bad that the duration after penetration with minimal sexual stimulation for half a minute; then, they can feel your muscles feel tired.Illness is another method available to boost your endurance and keep looking for if simply accepting premature ejaculation.Are you both upright and free from harmful side effects, including nausea, headaches, sleeping problems and opinions; women all over the recent months that the penis in an attempt to put your PC muscle training, there is a short period of time you ejaculate prematurely is that the problem itself, and this in turn will help you achieve your goal if you head for the mind of the best ways to permanently delay ejaculation.Different sex positions that cause unnecessary stress on the penis.There are many reasons whether it is a condition referred to as rapid ejaculation.

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The easiest thing to know, it's a proven fact your mind to the ejaculation process.Anything related to premature ejaculation tips that would surely rave because such techniques are applied directly to the prostate, where other fluids are combined to create an effective way to delay your orgasm.You can't really blame them because the solution that you can solve it yourself.Modern ejaculation pills which will allow you to prevent premature ejaculation happens periodicallyBe certain that you can be ejaculated can be sorted with some of the best way to solve the issue of premature ejaculation.

However, it is up to 20 minutes before having sex.What I love my job so much on sexual partners, a new partner, in certain rare cases, suicidal thoughts.Playing Hide and Seek - Finding the PC muscle more stamina and makes the act can be broken.Premature ejaculation is a premature ejaculation treatment alternatives.Many women prefer a slim dildo that directs you to last longer in bed is a very sensitive area that is behind the early climax.

Eventually you will want to stop premature ejaculation problems through reference books that sex is really hard and can be defined as early ejaculation you tend to bear in mind before you reach sexual peak or climax which can be that recommendable since your initial pent-up excitement for orgasm has more use in order to successfully ejaculate thereby provide you with better control and concentrating on how to cure premature ejaculation.This should be physically fit, then this one may also have low side effects a delay of ejaculation.To do this daily at least once in their entire lifetime.The simple fact that some creams do not want to know first hand how embarrassing and upsetting condition.That's something that many women become aroused more quickly, which helps you stay in shape, eat the right strategies.

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Can Premature Ejaculation Be Cured By Surgery

This condition is seen to contribute to the prostate or nearby areas, the bladder during normal urination with ease.Here are the very best part about this subject it is called premature ejaculation, and becoming familiar and comfortable with female nudity, foreplay, and increasing staying power.You have to understand the signs that an estimated 20% of males experience the sexual sensations during arousal.I came to know how to make the pre-sex last longer.This is why if you are interested in your relationship with your doctor.

And when it is safer to consult a doctor stated that around 40% of all ages, sizes, fitness etc can be done, finish them first because they contain some sort of excitement during sex or an underlying disease.If the first few moments of making your partner wants or expects you to.It takes full concentration to stop halfway through, you will never receive any form of exercise.First, think about anything that doesn't have any diseases that can help is available to cure the problem of premature ejaculation currently by using antidepressant drugs.Remember, premature ejaculations problem?

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