#i am exaggerating but it was traumatic enough

[cowboyworf]

nah, i'm annoyed enough to make this post.

i am an advocate for finding the right doctor, but seeing a bunch of doctors say "but there are good ones! you just have to find them!" is proof that they are so far removed from the reality of what people (especially marginalized people) experience when going to physicians, psychologists, psychiatrists, etc.

people die because of how doctors treat and dismiss them. poc are constantly treated like they're lying. fat people do not get listened to because every symptom must be due to weight. addicts are regularly treated less than human or like their health doesn't matter. women get told they're exaggerating or are weak. mentally ill people get pills thrown at them after a 15 minute psychiatry session.

i'm not saying people should not try to find a good doctor or that good doctors aren't out there- my current psychiatrist is fantastic. but a bunch of medical professionals acknowledging how shitty the system is in passing and telling people to just 'keep trying' shows how little they understand that patients are too exhausted, too traumatized, and too poor to go from doctor to doctor, hoping one actually takes them seriously.

[leportraitducadavre]

Alright, since I’ve received multiple asks about who I ship Sasuke with (or if I have a problem with specific ships), I’ll reiterate my posture regarding shipping culture:

I think it’s very poor, borderline shortsighted, to focus so incredibly much on the possibility of a character –that never specified being sexually interested in anyone, having a romantic partner. Besides the fact that Sasuke is a very traumatized man, a survivor of state-sanctioned genocide which affects his libido to the point of it being non-existent, the entirety of his characterization revolves around him seeking justice for his family. No. It’s not about his bond with Naruto, it’s not about his apparent sexual tension with Karin, nor is it about his crush (the fuck?) on Sakura. 

It’s Naruto the one whose characterization revolves around his bond with Sasuke, it’s Karin the one whose characterization revolves around her sexual desire for Sasuke, and it’s Sakura the one whose characterization revolves around her crush on Sasuke –Sasuke’s entire arc differs completely from theirs, as his entire goal, through the entire series, is about seeking justice for his family. 

What happens once Sasuke realizes he won’t be able to kill Itachi if he stays in Konoha? He leaves because he chooses his goal as an Avenger before his connection with Team 7 (yes, Itachi’s presence also reminded him of the imminent threat of having bonds that Itachi could easily destroy, but he doesn’t leave to protect T7, but to seek power to kill his brother). What happens once Sasuke kills Itachi? He learns about the truth behind the UCM, and decides to barge into the Kage Summit to kill Danzo and not return to Konoha. What happens once he kills Danzö? He still decides not to return and plans to bring the entire system down. I mean, where is his “bond with Naruto” in all this? Where is his “sexual tension” with Karin in all of this? Where is Sakura’s relevance in all of this? At no single moment does he focus on these bonds, often questioning the reason why these people are so adamant about pursuing him. Am I saying that they don’t matter at all to him? No, and you know that’s not the point of the post unless you’re looking for a reason to get upset in which case, I cannot help you. What I’m saying is that they’re not relevant to his main goal or characterization, as that power rests upon Itachi’s shoulders. Each character here mentioned has either more or less importance throughout his journey, but none of them are detrimental to his objective and none of them are important enough for him throughout the manga to deviate from his ambition (he even tried to kill each one of them when he deemed them a liability or they threatened the continuation of his mission).

Who do I ship Sasuke with? Nobody, I don’t enjoy a single pairing that is attributed to him, and I wish the fandom would realize that the entire plot revolves around the actions and consequences of a fascist regime, and not about who wanted to secretly or not so secretly fuck who, or who deserve his dick and who doesn’t. Yes, I’m being blunt, and some of you will think I’m exaggerating, but if you don’t see me talking about ships as often as you see me speaking about feminism or politics inside the Naruto manga, well, what a shocker, there’s a reason for it.

And to prevent people from putting words in my mouth, let me say this: I’m not saying you can’t enjoy a ship –go crazy if that’s what you want, do art, fanfics, and whatever rocks your boat, I won’t go after you trust me, but oh my god how come some of you would give a “potential romantic couple” so much more relevance than the actual plot?! Sasuke plainly and continuously reminds the characters and the readers what his true goal is and what he wants, and still, some of you will force a deep reading of a bubble of speech detached from his overall characterization to prove that he was smitten with x,y,z all along!

#personal #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #pro sasuke #pro sasuke uchiha #anti shipping culture #anti shipping #anti sns #anti sasunarusasu #anti ss #anti sasusaku #anti sk #anti sasukarin #anti sns fandom #anti ss fandom #anti sasusaku fandom

[ffjj5]

Let's get talking 🗣️💜

Warning: this post will discuss mental health and trauma.

Today is World Mental Health Day and until December 2019 I had been fortunate enough to have never had any struggles with mine. But then I did and I am not exaggerating when I say it shook me to my core. Following a traumatic event I was hit hard with anxiety, insomnia, fear, rumination and a constant feeling of impending danger. My home was no longer a place where I felt safe and I ended up working extra hours just to be out of the house. I couldn't eat as I always felt nauseous and I very quickly became a person that others didn't recognise.

I was always the one who helped and supported others in my friendship group so my friends didn't really know how to deal with that person being the one needing help and support. They were worried about me but just weren't sure how to help. So we sat and we talked, a lot, and they listened to my fears and worries and they helped me start to organise the thoughts in my head. One friend suggested that part of my healing may come from helping put the scum who had caused the fear behind bars. But in order to do that I needed to be in a better place. Something clicked in my head and I got in touch with my GP (who was amazing) and got the help I needed. It wasn't easy, it took time for me to feel the benefit of the medication, it definitely got worse before it got better but it did slowly get better. It was bloody hard work and there were days when I was so scared I was never going to get better and that how I was at that time was how I would be forever. But as time went by I felt the old me slowly coming back.

Nearly all of this was happening during COVID-19 a time when we were all forced to be at home, when I couldn't work to escape my house. Nothing like some forced desensitisation to help with healing! One positive to come from it being during this time is that my daughter was home from Uni so I wasn't at home alone and she was an absolute god send and helped me more than she will ever know.

A year later the case finally went to court after many COVID 19 influenced delays and I was in a place where I could give my evidence and give it well. It was terrifying and it's a blur but the next day all three defendants changed their plea and were sentenced to a joint total of 33 years.

This is when the real healing started as I knew they were gone for a long time and I was safe.

Now whilst my daughter was home she introduced me to a group called BTS, you may have heard of them 😁. These 7 men have been a significant part of my healing and they will never know how they brought light, laughter, happy tears and song to some very dark days. They also bought some sad tears but they were cathartic sad tears, We are Bulletproof: the eternal, Zero O'Clock and Magic Shop were three of my favourites to have a healing cry too.

My fight with my mental health continues and it has reared its ugly head again following my recent diagnosis of a chronic condition. But on the whole I am winning with the help of some amazing friends both near and far. There are some very special people on here that I speak to regularly about Jikook and life in general and I want to thank them from the bottom of my heart for listening to me. I am always here to return the kindness 💜💜

#world mental health day #BTS and healing #jimin #jungkook #hobi #tae #jin #namjoon #yoongi #7 very special men #lets keep talking #there is no shame

[lexinoctura]

Rant incoming!

Okay, so I apologize for my language in the following post, and I disclaim that I have NOT seen the entire show, but only a compilation on YouTube and read the summarizes on Fandom.com

So, be warned, because this is going to be ugly!

I fucking LOVE the book series Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead.

I read them in English and in German, I have the audiobooks in both languages and the comics to it. I recently read the best FanFiction I have ever read about my favorit ship Rose/Dimitri (Romitri) called "The Ties that Bind Us" by @hiccuppedstudio , and it is one of the very, very few books, shows or movies where I don't have the burning need to write a fix-it, because the books are perfect in my eyes.

I liked the movie from 2014 well enough, even though it was a bit faster than the books. I can understand that and I fully accept that.

What i can't and won't understand and accept is that bullshit motherfucking series from 2022 which I just masochistically (otherwise i have no explanation why I sat through those 7min) skimmed on YouTube.

And don't get me wrong, it is not because they decided to cast people that don't look like the characters from the book. I couldn't care less if I can vibe with them and the story.

BUT, and here comes my full-blown inner Rumpelstizken out to play, what I HATE is when they not slightly change a plot, but fuck the entire thing up with no shame or decency or honor or respect for the source material what so ever!

you CAN'T put the content of 5 (i don't know if they added the sixth as well) books into 10 episodes, no matter how long they are.

you CAN'T try to establish characters, a forbidden romance, a stalker and kidnapper, a very traumatic death of your best friend, the murder of your ship, the 'I have to go and kill the man I love', the restoration of that man and the murdering of the leader of that society within 10 fucking episodes, just to end it with a: \(o.o)/ meh

you CAN'T just fuck something out of existence that is as vital as Dimitri's restoration and redemption to the entire plot of the fifth and sixth book because of… reasons.

you CAN'T just kick out a turn of events (Dimitri turning Strigoi and Rose going to Siberia to kill him, and everything that it entails) when it is THAT VITAL to not only three books, but also to the character development of ALL THE MAIN CHARACTERS!

I fuck you not, I have another ten reasons on what that shitshow of a show fucked up, but I fear that if I go on, I'll bit into my screen, and I am not even exaggerating!

Now, seriously, who the FUCK decided to do that!? The books are awesome – like I said – and I can only recommend them to each and every one who likes BAMF main character, and doesn't automatically think that vampire means sparkling disco ball!

BUT! The show was not made for the 'normal' consumers; it was made for the fans, because the books are relatively old (2007 was the first volume released) and the producers/directors/screenwriters dared to try and sell us shit on a paper plate and then asked us to clap

#vampire academy #richelle mead #rant #rose hathaway #dimitri belikov #romitri #tv shows

[bippot]

Hiiii I read on here that there are more chapters to savage

I'd love to read them here

I don't use AO3 but I will to finish this lol

Tumblr is my primary

I will post them as soon as 5 of them have been rewritten! There are quite a few chapters but I am getting through them. Here is the next batch.

Summary: A crime writer moves to Evergreen and Vigilante is more than willing to help her settle in. He's not sure why. Maybe it's because she's nice to him. Her family, on the other hand, aren't at all what they seem.

Entire Story Tags: Autism Spectrum, Dungeons & Dragons References, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gun Violence, Idiots in Love, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Family Drama, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Children, Canon-Typical Violence, Grief/Mourning, Marriage Proposal, Married Life, Hospitals, Injury, Blood, Gore, Animal Attack, DC Comics References, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Bisexual Christopher Smith | Peacemaker, Fluff and Smut, Domestic Fluff, Organized Crime, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Kidnapping, Mommy Issues

Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here

Previous Chapters 1-5

6. Little Baby Boy Bitch

Peacemaker had over-exaggerated the severity of the mission. It was a drug bust. They'd done a countless amount of those. Like, so many. And there obviously was going to be more in the future. If Vigilante had to guess, he'd guess over a hundred. Whether that was an exaggeration (it was), didn't matter cause Adrian was very annoyed and pouty that he'd rushed away from Y/N for... this?

Chris could've handled it by himself. He chose not to. He was bored and wanted to hang out with his buddy. Adebayo was busy, so not his best buddy. But Adrian was definitely a buddy.

And it was fucking raining, too! That was the cherry on top.

Multiple shots rang out in the laundromat as Adrian tried to get this shit done as fast as possible by shooting as many of these guys in the head as he could in the shortest time he could.

These criminals had committed a crime! As most criminals do. Drug laundering is seriously fucked. Imagine all the fallout just because some guys decided that they'd like some more money. That's why, in Vigilante's mind, these dealers deserved what they were going to get from him.

Yanking a washing machine open so the criminal would run full speed at the plastic and hit their head, Chris twirled his pistol on his pointer finger as he whistled a tune to himself.

A bullet slammed into the wall above Chris' head as he spun around to face the direction of his buddy because why the fuck did Adrian Chase just shoot in the general direction of his BFF. Obviously, it was far enough away that it never in a million years would've hit Peacemaker in any way shape or form, but the principle was there.

"You fucking prick!" Chris yelled, sounding the most offended he'd ever sounded. All focus on the mission had gone, had fully left his body. "What was that for, dickhead?!"

"Just shoot them."

"What's wrong with you today? Have some fucking fun!"

The criminal on the floor groaned and made an attempt to scramble away. "I'm unarmed! See? No gun! Don't shoo-'' they began but were interrupted when Vigilante, without a single ounce of mercy, placed the barrel of his gun against the back of the criminal's head and pulled the trigger. It was an execution, for lack of a better word.

"You could've done this by yourself

"I thought you'd enjoy this! What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Thanks to his most recent kill, Vigilante was covered in the contents of that guy's head. He tried to wipe away some grey matter from the pane of his visor but it just spread it around even more. It was a disgusting sight, or lack of it since the brain juice was smeared so much that he couldn't see through it, but Adrian wasn't phased. He even kneeled down and shoved his face into the dead guy's shirt, essentially motorboating the grime from the glass.

As soon as he was back up on his feet, Vigilante was complaining, "This seriously was a one man job, dude."

"Fuck you, Vee," Peacemaker shouted back, "Are we even sure that you can be considered a man? You're a boy. A little baby boy bitch."

Like a child, Vigilante's eyes narrowed at Peacemaker's words and he threw his arms up. "I'm thirty! I'm a man!"

Scoffing, Peacemaker let out a cruel chuckle. "Are you? Cause all I hear coming out of your mouth is 'Wa wa, I'm a little bitch! Look at how much of a little bitch I am!' It's pathetic, really."

"Am not."

"You are."

"I am not!"

"It's not my fault you're still prepubescent!"

They squabbled for far too long as if they'd completely forgotten that they were in a crime scene of their own making. Their departure was literally at the last possible moment. A cop, who - lucky for them - was rather heavy footed, was five seconds away from solving this case before the perpetrators left out the back entrance.

Wet, tired and covered in human remains, the duo got to Peacemaker's car without being caught by the pigs. And although it would make them stink even more like rotting meat, the car's heater was turned up to full blast so they were no longer freezing their balls off.

Glam rock filled their ears at volume that was way above what was comfortable as Chris drove Adrian home. Adrian forgot that Chris often came over to hang out when they were younger so he definitely knew where his house was, but always insisted that he was dropped off a street or two away.

At some point, Adrian took off his mask as it was beginning to get stuffy. He noticed some brain still on the side and wiped it against his thigh. Chris took his eyes off the road and watched in silent disgust.

Mere seconds after the car stopped, Adrian was darting out of his seat, throwing a salute to his buddy over his shoulder. He tried to leave without saying goodbye. He never did that. Especially not when Eagly was in the backseat.

"Vee, what the fuck is up?" Peacemaker asked, causing Vigilante to stop in place and turn around to face him. Chris had a look of confusion and annoyance on his face, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to say something comforting to his friend, but then he got a hold of himself.

"Nothing is up."

"You usually don't shut up and I have to force you out of my car."

Vigilante leant down and placed his arm on the car window with a sigh. A sigh that sounded far too much like something was going on with him. That coupled with his behaviour the past hour meant that Chris didn't believe it when Adrian said, "I'm fine. I'm super fine. Just totally totally fine."

"You're fine? You're always fine."

"I'm fine," he repeated. "Now, can I go?"

Hardly anyone who has said they are fine is fine. Even Peacemaker knows that.

"Dude, don't lie to me. I'm your best friend."

"You said Eagly was your best friend, not me!" Adrian retorted sassily. The moment he heard his name, Eagly squawked and moved from the backseat to where Vigilante had just been sitting. "And I respect that. I respect you, Eagly."

Eagly allowed Vigilante to reach out and pet him. Not for too long, though. Once his petting threshold had been hit, Eagle clamped down on Vigilante's glove. It wasn't a painful bite, just a warning nip that would get more intense if the petting didn't stop.

"Eagly is my best friend. I said that I was yours, dumbass. Besides, Eagly wouldn't lie to me," Chris explained as he began searching for the packet of Lays he kept in his glove compartment to feed his eagle with.

"Yeah, cause he's an eagle."

Adrian's face reddened in annoyance. Why was he being interrogated? Did Chris need to know everything about his life? Couldn't there be parts that he wanted to keep just for himself a little longer? Was he allowed to?

Sharing the mere mention of her name to his friend, well, it was like when he was a kid and his mother got him a new dinosaur toy that was totally sick as fuck, the moment he told Gut about it, Gut stole it. And his older brother was bigger than him by a lot. And meaner than him. And more normal than him. And if he'd gone whining to either of his parents, the punch Gut would've given him would've really hurt.

"You're such a bad liar."

He placed his mask back over his face to hide his expression and his voice got higher as he lied, "I'm not lying."

"Like fuck you're not. A cunt like Kant could lie better than you!"

So what if Chris had been reading up on philosophy since he got out of prison? Most of it was fucking bullshit, but yeah, maybe there were some good points about morals in there. Eat a dick, nerd!

That dinosaur was a toy. Y/N was a human person. She would make her own mind up. Fuck it! Why not spill his secret.

"Oh, fuck," Adrian breathed, "I was at my girls' house, okay?"

"You have a girl? Yeah, I call bullshit."

Could he call her 'his girl'? Was that the correct terminology? Technically, they weren't dating. It's not that he didn't want to date her. He did. Desperately.

"Fuck you, man! Fuck this!"

Never in his entire life did Chris even think it was possible for Adrian to like someone on a deeper level. Superficially, yeah. Of course. They frequently had conversations about which celebrities they would bang.

"What the fuck is going on?"

"I think I might be in love," Adrian confessed, "And I don't want to discuss it anymore."

Chris couldn't believe what he was hearing. This wasn't a thing. This fucking psycho was 'in love'? Peacemaker turned his car's ignition off and questioned, "Is that even possible?"

"Is what possible?"

"I thought you said you didn't have any emotions. How could you be in love if you don't have any emotions, jackass?"

"Dude, I said I don't have emotions like people do. As in, I have them but not like other people," Adrian clarified, his voice very whiny and defensive. "I have them, okay? They're just different from yours."

If Adrian truly had no feelings or sense of attachment, then why did he nearly blow himself up when fighting the White Dragon? Why would he have started following the other 11th Street Kids around in the first place? Why would he replace John's doritos with healthier pea snaps instead? Why would he remind Leota that her wedding anniversary was coming up so she should really get Keeya a gift sooner rather than later so it arrives in time.

Or, why did he make a whole powerpoint about why Emilia should swap out her heeled boots for something more all terrain because, not only was it more comfortable, but it was going to seriously make her life harder when she got older. Although, with Harcourt still in a wheelchair thanks to her injuries at the butterfly's barn, that probably could've been something he waited to present to her.

Processing all of that was hard. It was a lot to take in. To suddenly realise the guy you've been using as an emotional punching bag for all of his life actually feels something when you take it out on him? That's fucked up. Chris had fully believed that it was fine to say shit like that to Adrian simply because he didn't react to it in the way other people did. Adrian sometimes sounded offended, but that couldn't be the case. Right?

Wordlessly, Vigilante bid his goodbyes to Eagly and Peacemaker and retreated into his home. His family home. His empty family home.

"Honey, I'm home," he called out into the dead air, not expecting an answer and definitely not getting one either. He wanted one, though. This house was far too empty. And Y/N would be asleep by now so he wouldn't want to wake her up since she can get grouchy in the mornings.

All those years ago when his dad left, his mother had taken the family photos down. He often thought about putting them back up. It never happened. The desire was never strong enough for him to actually bother, but maybe one day it would. He hoped it would. For now, he settled for the photo album his mother kept in the little compartment in the coffee table.

Nothing about the house had changed since they died. Adrian looked around his childhood home for a moment and, despite living there for all of his life, he felt so uncomfortable. This place wasn't his home. It wasn't safe - hell, his entire family had been murdered in the kitchen not ten feet from where he was sitting - and it wasn't comfy.

He thumbed through the first few pages of the album and wished that something would spark. A memory. A feeling. A chance to remember their faces and say 'hey, I know you.' Yet, he didn't know these people anymore. Their deaths were sad, yes, but they were so long ago. He'd accepted it. They weren't coming back and that's okay. They were dead and he wasn't. That is how the world works. The way the cookie crumbles.

Stopping on a page, Adrian was greeted by a snapshot of him and Gut. Both of them were in their Sunday best and had clearly been bribed to stand together. He must've been fourteen, maybe fifteen at a push. He looked ten. Maybe Peacemaker was right. Maybe he was a little boy bitch.

Out of the corner of his eye, Adrian noticed his phone screen lighting up. It wasn't anything important, just an email from a streaming service about their prices going up, but it allowed him a glimpse of his background photo. It was of Y/N sat in one of the booths in Fennel Fields with his work hat squished on her head as she showed off a wide and gummy smile that, if he was being honest, made her look manic. Her laugh lines were so deep. And her eyes were twinkling directly at him.

Yeah, maybe it wasn't the most photogenic she'd ever looked in her life, but it had captured her spirit. It was fun. It was goofy. It was bright. And she was rocking his stupid hat. There was no question, it was his favourite picture he'd ever taken. Plus, the memory that went along with it was great too so that's, like, a double kill.

"It looks better on you!" She squashed it back on his head, making him laugh and attempt to duck away from her assault. It was no use, she got it over the crown of his head and tugged it over his hair.

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is."

"Uh, no. It is not."

"Would I lie to you?"

Her finger came up to brush his curls out of his face and tuck them into the hat. Adrian felt a jolt of electricity as her touch brushed against the skin of his temples.

"Y-you could...if you wanted to."

Then, her hand gently dragged down the side of his face and cupped his jaw as she watched its path with an analytical stare. "I don't want to," Y/N said plainly. She'd said it with such conviction that there was doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth, and 100% of the truth.

"You could though? You could lie to me?"

"I could." Her eyes flicked to his. "Do you want me to?"

"No."

"Then I won't. I promise."

The memory ended with Philip coming over and interrupting their moment like he usually did. Adrian pushed the memory aside and turned his attention to putting the album back in its rightful place and settling down for the night.

He'd left his phone directly over his heart as he shifted to get comfortable in his bed, which was just tempting him to roll over and crush it during the night. His screen was already cracked from hero shit so it was delicate. Okay, okay, okay... it was broken because he drops it all the time when he's not paying attention. You happy?

With the thought of Y/N firmly in the forefront of his mind, Adrian fell asleep with a small smile on his lips. Their relationship had changed - one half of it - and he couldn't wait to reap the rewards of his boldness. As he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, he couldn't help but wonder what the future would hold for him and Y/N. Greatness? Yeah, that had to be it.

7. Cherry Shampoo

Within the confines of her home on the other side of town, Y/N was not having a great time. In Vigilante's, or Adrian's if she wanted to be accurate, absence, she was left to stew in her feelings. She was sitting in her living room, staring blankly at the television as the anchor droned on about the latest news. She stayed in that exact same seat for so long, only moving to use the bathroom and answer the door when she ordered food. As the days passed, Y/N found herself spiralling deeper into her own head, lost and unable to shake off the feeling of emptiness that had taken over her.

Because why did she always surround herself with people who were secretive and, to put it politely, morally questionable? Why did she always feel like she was missing something, and the moment she found another piece of the puzzle that is life, he turns out to be a different shape than she first expected? It was a constant struggle to balance her own moral compass with the actions of the people around her, and it was getting harder to tell what was right and what was wrong.

Ignoring Adrian was something she never intended to do. Processing things can take a while. She never expected to take an entire week. It was a lot to figure out.

And the main debate she kept going back and forth about was would she tell him that she'd figured it, figured him out? He clearly wasn't comfortable with her knowing yet, but Y/N couldn't help but wonder if her reluctance to reveal the truth would cause distance between them. As the days passed, Y/N found herself growing more and more restless, unable to stand the feeling of uncertainty that had settled into her bones.

Adrian called her so much. Y/N didn't pick up a single one and she felt so fucking guilty because every time her phone lit up and showed his contact picture, she was reminded of the moment she took it.

They'd been at the local park for a Halloween pumpkin picking event and a beautiful golden retriever had slipped its leash and came up to sniff Adrian's shoe. He fully got to his knees on the cold pavement to ruffle the dog's fur, and Y/N had watched with a mix of amusement and concern that he would brand the dog as his own, resulting in him bringing the animal into her home and getting hair everywhere, as he playfully cooed at it. She'd taken the cute picture with a smile and then they began their search for the dog's owner. They missed the cut off point for the pumpkin patch but at least that dog was returned to its family.

Looking back, she wished she never took it. It made him look too normal. Too innocent. And it was the entire reason why she finally answered one of his calls. Her voice was quiet and strained as she said, "Hi Ade."

"H-hi Y/N."

From her yard, Adrian was hidden in the overgrown bush right by the back door. It was trespassing, he knew that. He was fully aware of how much of a creep he was being. Only perverts and guys who were really worried about their girl would do this kind of thing. He didn't want to upset Y/N with his presence, but he couldn't stop himself from seeing her.

"I just wanted to make sure everything was okay," Adrian said, his voice barely above a whisper. "That you are okay?"

Y/N hesitated for a moment before answering, "Just had a lot on my mind lately." He noticed how he hadn't answered his question but let it go for now.

"Are you doing anything?"

"No."

"Can I come over?"

"No."

His heart sank as he heard Y/N's response, but he knew he couldn't force her to see him. Instead, he took a deep breath and tried to find the right words to say. He'd never been good at comforting people, but he knew he had to try. That's what a friend would do.

"Is there anything I can do? Anything I can get you? To make you feel better?"

Why was he so nice? A serial murderer shouldn't be this thoughtful. Adrian's brows furrowed as soon as he witnessed Y/N lowering her head to the edge of her coffee table and bumped her head against the wood. She didn't respond to his question, and he could tell that something was bothering her. And there was a sneaking suspicion that he was the one who caused this bother.

"I don't know what I can do to make you feel better," he said softly, "But I'll do anything. Just say the word and I'll do it - even if it's illegal. Please, Y/N, just tell me how to make you happy."

As Y/N sat there, head in her hands, Adrian could see the pain in her eyes and the strain in her body language disappear all of a sudden. He was surprised to see the weight of his words finally hit her, and she let out a shaky laugh.

"I'd like it if you came over," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think the Real Housewives is on soon, do you want to watch it with me?"

"Atlanta or Orange County?"

It flew from his mouth before he could stop it and his shoulders relaxed as he watched Y/N's face light up and laugh at him. It was a genuine question, sure, but if she'd interpreted it as a joke, it was now a joke

"I don't care, you can pick," Y/N said, her smile audible over the call. "Just come over."

"I'm on my way."

How long was it acceptable for him to wait in the bush pretending that he was not just spying on her? Adrian stood up from his hiding spot and, as quietly as he could, climbed over her fence so that he could wait in the alley and not in front of her windows. This would be a surveillance mission that he'd keep to himself. As he waited, he could feel his heart racing with excitement and nerves. He didn't know what he would do when he finally saw her again, but he knew that he had to find a way to make sure they never spent this much time apart ever again.

Like, this week had been fucking hell for him.

For ten whole minutes, Y/N sat with her head in her hands, no thoughts, just pure focus on breathing in and out. When she felt calm enough, she stood up, stretched, and realised that - holy shit - she was a little heavy on the BO. Rotting on the couch for seven days meant that she was definitely in need of a shower.

So, that's what she did. The warm water cascading down her body was like a soothing balm, and she let out a contented sigh as she washed away the dirt and sweat and stress that had plagued her. She closed her eyes, letting herself be engulfed in the feeling of being cleansed and refreshed, and let a song fall from her lips. It was a soft melody, one that she couldn't quite place, but it made her feel better just the same.

Adrian let himself into her home using the spare key kept in the butt of a garden gnome and stood awkwardly in the middle of her living room, doing nothing but just looking around and racking his brain for something to say. He had no idea what he'd done to upset her - well, he had one guess - and he was prepared to grovel, to plead, and to beg to get back in her good graces.

The tune coming from the bathroom was like a siren's song - a siren that was a little off-key - and Adrian was listening through the door as soon as he noticed it. His ear inched closer to the wood, but never pressed against it as she opened the door. She stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy white towel and was immediately nose to nose with him.

"Sorry. I heard, uh... you sound great," he mumbled out, trying to sound casual.

"I'm going to put some clothes on," Y/N said, looking down at the floor.

As Y/N walked towards her room, Adrian followed her on instinct and found himself standing in front of her, his eyes fixed on her form, totally not understanding that she was trying to gesture to him to stay exactly where he was standing. After a quick shove so that he wasn't in the way when she closed the door behind her, she did just that.

It took her no time to put some clothes on and even less return to him. Whatever she thought she was going to do went out the window as soon as she saw him. He looked like shit. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was messy from not having been combed for a while. The bags underneath his eyes were dark and heavy, and his face was pale from lack of sleep. She could see the exhaustion etched on his features, and it only made her want to hold him even more.

She walked towards him, her steps slow and measured, and wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened at first, but then relaxed into her embrace, burying his face in her neck as she held him tightly. He had been trembling, she realised, and it was taking everything she had just to keep him steady. But as she held him, she felt his body gradually relax, and she could feel the tension draining away from him.

Once he had stopped, she pulled back slightly and looked into his eyes, seeing the fear and uncertainty that she had been feeling herself. But there was also something else there - something that she couldn't quite place. It was a mix of vulnerability and something else that she couldn't quite identify. She wanted to say something, to make it all better, but she couldn't find the right words.

"When did you last sleep?"

"How long have you been ignoring me?"

With a whimper, she buried her face into his chest, feeling the steady beating of his heart against her cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered, "I just needed some time alone. Time to quiet my brain. "Adrian's arms tightened around her, and he pulled her closer to him.

"I don't hug often, but this is nice," he said softly, his breath warm against the top of her head. It was quiet for a few moments. There were no words that could be spoken. It was a moment of physical contact that neither of them expected but both enjoyed.

"Are you hungry?" Y/N asked, pulling away from Adrian's embrace and looking up at him with a small smile. "I can make us something to eat if you'd like."

"I'd like that."

Taking his hand, she led him to the kitchen, instructed, "Sit. I'll heat up some pizza," and he was on it like motherfucking Sonic. He jumped far too enthusiastically and when his butt hit the counter, it wobbled so much that a pot of utensils spilled over and onto the floor.

Adrian immediately looked up at Y/N with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about that," he said, jumping down, picking them up, then jumping back on the counter.

As their meal warmed up, Adrian held his hands out for Y/N to place her hands into. She did so without hesitation, and he guided her to stand between his man spreaded legs.

"I missed you," he said softly, his eyes locked onto hers.

"I know."

"Did you miss me?"

"I did."

A very wide smile overtook him that immediately changed into something far more dopey as one of her palms came to rest on his cheek. And since it felt so comforting to be cradled in such a way, he mirrored her and soon found out that the skin of cheek was incredibly soft.

Progressively, the distance between them got smaller and smaller until they were forehead to forehead, neither of them aware that they'd been unconsciously shifting forward until there was no space left to move into.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm...?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Instead of responding verbally, she pressed her lips against his, feeling the softness of his lips against hers. The kiss was soft and gentle and short, but it was also filled with a deep sense of longing. Sure, they'd kissed before. But this was different. It was more than just a kiss. It was a confession of feelings that neither of them had ever voiced out loud.

The second, no, the millisecond that Y/N had pulled back from their little peck, Adrian's free hand found the small of her back and was tugging her back in for another kiss. Their lips met again, and this time, it was a more intense and passionate one. It was as if they had been waiting for each other all this time, and they couldn't get enough.

Turns out that the only thing that stopped their make out session was the pizza alarm Y/N had set. Y/N broke away, wiping the trail saliva from the bottom of her lip as she cut the pizza and grabbed two plates. She handed one to Adrian, who eagerly accepted it and dug in as soon as possible.

He ate like a wild animal, tearing into the dough and toppings with reckless abandon. He ate like he hadn't in days, which was probably true. Y/N watched him with a smile, enjoying the way his hands were always in motion as he ate, as if he couldn't sit still despite the exhaustion he'd been swatting away at every turn was quickly rearing its head.

When the food was done, Y/N didn't bother loading the dishwasher because her one and only mission was to force him to get some rest. It wasn't a difficult task by any means. All Y/N had to do was offer to help him to his feet and coo, "Come on, pookie, let's get you to bed."

Who was he to refuse? She'd called him a sweet name and had offered to let him stay the night - frickin win win.

Within the confines of her room, he let himself be guided to undress as he lifted his arms, like a toddler, so she could take his shirt off. Even though he was almost falling asleep standing up, he flirted, "Like what you see?"

If you want the short answer, it's no. The long one was that his torso was littered with scars, most of which were jagged and clearly patched up unprofessionally. Not that they looked ugly, no part of him could. It was sad, really, to have physical evidence of how much he'd gone through and the toll it had taken on him.

They were badges of honour to him. To her, they were instances where she wasn't there to help him out, or at least comforted him afterwards. Presumably, he was alone when he stitched most of these up. With no one to help him. With no one to hold him. With no one to tell him that they were glad he was still alive.

She didn't answer his question, choosing to ask her own instead, "Do you want a sleep shirt?"

"I sleep naked."

"Not tonight." A huff came from his mouth as he dramatically let himself fall backwards onto her bed. "Do you need help with your jeans?"

Frankly, they both knew he didn't need help. Y/N was 100% when she offered that it would give him enough of an energy boost that he would make it through brushing his teeth without passing out. He was so smug as her fingers undid his belt and unbuttoned his jeans, the corners of her lips turning up in a grin because of the way he looked like he was on the verge of pouncing on her.

"Butt up please," she ordered, lightly tapping the top of his thigh so he'd lift it up and let her wiggle off his jeans.

Her hand pushed at his chest as he went to sit up and attack her with a smooch, but she stopped him, teasing, "Only after you brush your teeth," and laughing at how he whined. He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of a smile on his lips as he dragged her to the bathroom so they could brush their teeth side by side.

When everything was done and they were both under her duvet cover, Adrian inched his hand closer and closer and closer and closer until it finally rested on her forearm.

"Y/N?"

"Adrian?"

"Your arm feels cold, are you cold?"

"A little."

"I can warm you up." He leaned in and kissed her cheek sweetly. "Is that okay?"

Y/N guided his arm to wrap around her waist as she let herself melt into his chest. She let out a contented sigh, feeling his warmth, the steady beat of his heart against her cheek, and the ridges and bumps of his scars beneath her fingertips. It was a moment of peace, a moment of quiet, a moment to just be.

He could smell her shampoo. It was cherry-scented. He closed his eyes, taking it all in, and came to the conclusion that he loved everything about her. Every single thing.

"Tell me something," he asked. "Like a bedtime story or some shit."

For some reason, she told him about how she wanted to be a squirrel when she was six and jumped out of an oak tree into a pile of deceptively cushy looking leaves, causing her land directly onto her arm and breaking it in three places. Her godfather had let out a squeal, which was quite funny because he was a very intimidating guy, and rushed to her aid. He tripped over a stray branch and ended up falling onto his face.

It was the first thing that came to mind. It was silly and stupid, but she found herself telling him anyway, her fingers drawing out certain moments across his chest as she spoke. Adrian tried to listen to the best of his ability, but it was so comforting and warm to be snuggled up to someone that he couldn't help but drift off to sleep.

8. Tweedledum and Tweedledumber

Whoever blessed Adrian Chase with the goddamned angel that he woke up with in his arms, he was ready to thank them profusely. Cause she looked so peaceful and serene and like she belonged all cuddled up to him. Every single part of him was prepared to do anything to keep her safe and warm and completely away from alien butterflies or well-trained karate homunculi or just random thugs on the street. Literally any threat, no matter how small or large, he was prepared to take on.

In her sleep, Y/N shifted even closer into Adrian's embrace, her chest rising and falling with each breath as she snuggled into him. It was as if he was dreaming. But a dream that he could actually feel and touch and hold.

He had intended to lightly brush his hand through her hair, yet in his barely contained excitement, he moved far too quickly and smacked her in the forehead. Her eyes flew open and her hands automatically went up to her face as if to rub away the sting of his accidental collision. "Whaaat?" she asked, her sleepy tone full of confusion.

"Shit! I didn't mean to."

With a gentle swipe, he moved her hand away so he could place kiss upon kiss upon kiss against the point of contact, apologising after each peck. Y/N's face scrunched up at the affectionate contact then relaxed into a contented smile.

"What were you even trying to do?" she asked with a sleepy murmur.

"You looked so peaceful and I wanted to, y'know, touch your hair - not in a creepy way but in a cute admiring you in your sleep way. I fucked up, okay?"

Her sleepy eyes blinked up at him. "I've never been assaulted awake before," she teased, and it was very clear in her voice that she was trying to get a reaction from him.

"I didn't mean to. Honest."

"Mm-hmm. That's what they all say."

"....Y/N," he whined, swaying them from side to side as if he were rocking her to sleep. "Don't say that. That's, like, not me. You know that's not me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean... I didn't."

They were so close he could feel her breath on his face, the warmth of her nose against his own. Y/N propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes less heavy lidded and sleepy than they had been a minute ago, but still considerably more than his. "I know, Adrian," she told him, and he breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't seem to be angry with him. "I was messing with you."

"You asshole!"

Almost manic with happiness, he laughed at the way she squealed when he flipped them over all of a sudden so he was the one on top, his body pressing hers down into the mattress. "Think messing with me is fun, baby?" His tone was so obviously flirty and confident that it surprised him. He'd never heard himself sound like that before. He kinda liked it. And he definitely liked how it made her giggle.

"It's so, so fun."

"Yeah?"

He leaned down to nudge his nose into hers to taunt her into trying to kiss him. The plan was to dodge the smooch to get back at her but as soon as the opportunity to kiss her appeared, that went out of the window and he was pressing his lips to hers. It wasn't some half-assed quick peck either. It was a proper slow, sweet, lingering kiss. His hands were in her hair, his fingers tangling in the soft strands as he cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss. Y/N responded by wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing herself closer to him, parting her lips slightly as if to invite more. He didn't want to break for air. Ever.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably no more than a few brief minutes, he reluctantly retreated to regain his breath and sanity. "Jesus," he muttered, setting his palm over his pounding heart. Could she hear how loud it was? Honestly, he wouldn't really care all that much if she could because it would say all the things he wished he could.

"That was..." she began, her voice so soft he could barely hear her, but he chose to focus on her words rather than his own ragged breathing. "...good."

"Uh huh." He could barely form words. "Good. That was good."

A long silence stretched between them as Y/N continued to look up at him, a coy smile on her face. He didn't know what to say and ended up blurting out, "What's a pookie?" totally from nowhere.

"Huh?"

"Last night you called me pookie. What even is that? Some weird European insult?"

Despite not remembering calling him that, she believed him. She probably did and didn't realise that the pet name had slipped past her lips, which meant that - fuck - she was falling hard and so fuckin fast.

"It's like sweetheart, or darling, or my love," She attempted to brush it off like it was nothing, "The lesbians from RENT call each other it. That's probably where I got it from."

"L-Lesbians?" He echoed, "Are we lesbians?"

Was that his way of asking if they were dating? If he had to guess, she'd say it was.

"We can be lesbians, if you want."

"Nice. I get to be the male lesbian, though."

"Aw, I wanted to be the male lesbian," she joked, but he could tell by the serious glint in her eye that she wasn't joking about the status of their relationship. They were 100% clear on what was going on there.

It was official.

"I do think I would make a great girl lesbian. My friend, Adebayo, is one of those, and she’s, like, really cool," he gushed, and he felt a bit silly for being so giddy, but he couldn't help himself. He literally had the girlfriend of his dreams bracketed between his forearms and was practically giddy with joy.

They lay there, bodies entangled, talking and saying whatever dumb shit popped into their minds. They moved from topic to topic seamlessly. Quickly, too. It was like their brains had absorbed a bunch of random thoughts and stored them up exactly for this moment, because it was mind blowing just how much stream of consciousness crap erupted from their mouths and was fully understood by their partner.

That was until Y/N inquired, "Where did you put your glasses?" This was probably the first time she had seen him without them on for an extended period of time. He looked a little like a mole, squinting from a lack of clear sight. It was adorable.

"I put my..." He glanced in the direction of the bedside table and, all of a sudden, his little mole eyes got so wide. "Fuck! I'm supposed to be at work!"

He inhaled sharply through his nose, let out a strangled noise, and quickly scrambled to jump off the bed. He overestimated the amount of space he needed to move and soon ended up falling to the floor, ass first. "You okay?" Y/N asked, laughing as she peered over the side of the bed to get a better look at him sprawled on the floor.

"My butt hurts."

"Oh, you poor baby."

She kneeled closer to the edge and extended her hands to help him up. He took them into his and rose to his feet, giving her a quick peck on the lips before hurrying his clothes on and preparing himself to leave. Once he'd gotten himself ready, he stood in her doorway in order to send one last wink at her and rushed back to kiss her cheek, mumbling, "See you later?" against her skin.

"You bet." He punched the air. "Go get em', tiger."

"Fuck yeah!" She laughed, watching him rush out the door and shut it behind him.

After she heard the front door shut, she flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling with the most disgustingly lovesick expression on her face. She'd had crushes in the past, sure, but this was different. This was on a whole other level. She had never thought that she would ever be capable of falling this hard for someone, and she couldn't help it, she was powerless to it.

What was it about him that drove her crazy? It wasn't just that he was gorgeous and a total sweetheart. Although, to be honest, those things did help. No, it was something much deeper. He had a way of making her feel completely understood. As if no matter what she said or did, he would still get it. Like they were on the same wavelength, or something.

Ring ding ding daa baa

Baa aramba baa bom baa barooumba

Wh-wha-what's going on-on?

Ding, ding

This is the Crazy Frog

Hey, it's a catchy song. It's a banger. The distinctive sound of the Crazy Frog blared from her phone's speaker and she knew who it was without having to look. "Hey Pa."

"Hiya Moo!" Her father's cheerful voice responded. "How's my girl?"

"I'm good, real good. You?"

"I'm better now I'm talking to you, sweetie. I miss you, though. I really do. Don't get me wrong, I know you're out there living your life and being a big shot author, but I miss my little girl," he sighed, and she could hear just how true it was in his voice.

Although the road to adulthood had been a little rocky, her father was always there for her when she needed him. She knew that she'd not been the easiest of kids to parent, but he always gave her the space she needed and the support she needed, and for that, she loved him more than anything.

"I miss you, too, Pop."

"I know you do, sweetie. I also know that you're going to have mixed feelings about what I'm about to say," he began very carefully. He was not one to beat around the bush to her.

They'd learnt very early on that it was best to be blunt as possible around each other, and while it sometimes sounded a little harsh on the outside, in the end, it made things a lot easier. On the other end of the line, he took a deep breath and announced, "We've booked tickets to come and see you."

We've. Booked. Tickets. We've.

"Your mother and I are on our way to see you, Moo. We've made reservations to fly out in a few months. I made sure to call early to give you enough time to prepare."

Y/N closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the headboard. She knew what was coming, and she was dreading it. "She's not busy?"

"She's retiring." Her father sighed. "I'm sorry, my lovely. I know it's a long time coming, but yeah, she's finally getting some time off."

Working as a police officer had often put roadblocks in the way of their mother-daughter relationship. Her mother being a workaholic, however, put far more. There was a reason Y/N had been so eager to leave home, to escape her family. She'd needed to be far away from them. She'd needed to have a fresh start. Yeah, there were multiple factors. Her mother being a neglectful asshole had been the main one.

"Are they discharging her?"

If Y/N had to guess, her mother's less than honourable extracurricular activities had finally caught up with her. She had been preoccupied with bribes and cover-ups rather than picking her children up from school or showing up to family game night.

"Nope, she chose to."

"...Right." The line went quiet as she took in the information and let it settle in. After a few minutes of internal freaking out, she spoke again. This time when she spoke, however, she completely changed the subject. "I have a boyfriend."

"Do you now?" he replied, his voice completely giving away the excitement he was trying to contain. "Is he nice? Does he make you laugh? Is it serious? How long have you been dating? How did you meet? Tell me everything!"

"Calm down, I haven't even told you his name yet."

"What's his name then?"

So, she answered his questions with an enthusiasm he'd never heard from her before. She told him about her new boyfriend, how they'd met, what he was like, everything - well, not everything. The more she talked, the better she felt, and once she was in the zone, she couldn't stop.

How in the hell was she going to explain that she was in love with a vigilante? The Vigilante, no less. And she had to do it without admitting that she knew he was Vigilante. Well, "When we play dungeons and dragons, he gets really into it. He's a paladin, Oath of Vengeance - " she started to explain but was promptly cut off.

"What the fuck is a paladin?"

"It's like a Knight that can do magic."

"Oh, that sounds cool."

Pretty good disguise. She felt very proud of her quick thinking. "Our PCs are together, but also not, and my character is a little confused about where she stands on all the bad things his character does," she said quickly, "It's in the name of justice. He's a hero and all, but he also, y'know, kind of got this reputation for doing some of the same things as the villains do."

"I don't know anything about this game," her dad said, knowing that she was using it as a basis for her real life problem, yet he was confused and concerned about how that problem would apply to her life.

Cause the implications that this new boyfriend of hers was anything other than a good guy was worrying her father. That was scary as hell.

"It's just a fantasy story," she said, sounding convincing even to herself. "It's for fun."

He thought about how to phrase his words for a beat. "Just because someone does bad things, it doesn't make them a bad guy. Hey, I often throw my rubbish bag over to the neighbour's drive so the bin men don't judge me for the amount of black bags we put out," he said. "It doesn't make me a bad person. Just a lazy one."

Y/N liked the sound of that. It made her feel a little better. Despite what Adrian might say, bad things might not always mean bad guy. There were a lot of grey areas in life. A lot.

"That's really smart."

"Yeah, I've wrestled with this before and I can’t wait to meet this Paladin boy," He told her, "I'll have to ask him all about this D&D shit that you always talk about."

"You could ask me?"

Frankly, her father's plan to connect with his daughter's new boyfriend was to talk about what he liked, and it would get the ball rolling. He hoped it would. Of course, he would never disclose this tactic.

"What's the fun in that?"

From the other line, she heard the door slam, which was a classic signifier that her mother was home. She could picture her, pissed as hell, brows furrowed and arms crossed in front of her chest. As soon as she spoke, her voice was always filled with such venom.

"I'll let you go now before she insists on speaking to you," he replied, knowing that any communication between the two without them being face to face was not ideal.

"Thank you. Love you."

"Love you more, Moo."

Oh shit. Her mother, who was a decorated member of the fuzz, was coming, and her boyfriend was a criminal. A criminal who is bad at lying. Like really bad.

9. Great Tits

Arriving 52 minutes late to work, Adrian burst through the Fennel Fields double doors. He avoided the patronising whoops and tuts of his coworkers and rushed to apologise to his manager, Julia, then immediately got to doing his job so he was as far under the radar as he possibly could be.

It had been a momentous day. His morning had been filled with so much excitement that the quiet and boring afternoon had seemed to go on and on for an eternity. Yet, nothing was going to dampen his mood. Not even when Chris arrived and started questioning him because Adrian (and Vigilante) had not been seen for around a week.

"Dude!" Chris yelled in his buddy's face. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"I've been busy."

"Busy enough to not reply to the memes I sent you on Twitter?"

Adrian shrugged, pretending to be entirely nonchalant about the whole thing but he really wanted to tell Chris every detail. He wanted to be a little coy, to play with Chris's expectations and let him whine for a bit. Yet, he didn't want to bore him with six days of depression and one day of mushy heartfelt feeling, so he said nothing and kept cleaning the table with a small smirk that wasn't going away any time soon.

"No, no, no... you don't get to do that. You started saying shit about having feelings and then you fucking disappeared for an entire week," Chris said, getting more and more irritated with his friend.

Any restraint that Adrian had crumbled and he spilled his guts, explaining everything that had happened. He even confessed to trespassing, which he thought Peacemaker would chastise him for because it's illegal, but Chris didn't give a shit. Yeah, he thought it was creepy but, hey, they'd done worse together. Much worse.

Peacemaker attempted to sit in the booth nearest to him, but was nudged out of the way. "That's Y/N's booth. Sit somewhere else," Adrian urged, sounding strangely firm. Weird. He never sounded like that.

"Are you for real?"

"Yes."

Begrudgingly, Chris moved to the next available booth. "Dude, if she doesn't know that you and him are the same, then it's cheating on her part," Chris explained, eating all the mozzarella that Francis just threw down in front of him and immediately hurried off.

Francis had been named 'George Costanza' by Chris when they were younger since his penis apparently was small and weird. The less time he was around the guy who caused him to hate his favourite show and feel incredibly self conscious about his manhood, the better.

Like a kid, Adrian retorted, "Nu-uh."

"Yea-uh."

"Have you told her?"

"No. It's, uh, it's complicated."

"Are you sure you aren't gay?"

"Very fucking funny, Chris," he sighed. "No, I haven't told her."

"Then it's your fault for being a pussy."

Obviously, Adrian was not sure how to take that. So, he responded simply with, "Thanks, man," and got back to work so he didn't have to continue with this conversation any longer.

Around ten minutes later when Adrian happened to look over his shoulder while he was on dishwasher duty, he noticed a familiar laptop bag being plopped down on the dining table just outside the kitchens. Y/N had arrived!

A mixture of elation and nerves washed over him. Would they be affectionate in public? What were the rules? He didn't want to make her uncomfortable in any way. Like, it would suck so hard if he failed and made her hate him on the literal first day of their romance. He turned off the tap and wiped his hands on his apron, completely leaving his station to lean against the doorway. He admired her as she unpacked her things, practically drooling over the low-cut dress she'd chosen to wear, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree with mostly red lights.

"I can feel you staring at me."

"Sorry. You look so pretty," he breathed.

Fuck. He needed to seem cooler in Chris' presence, and being absolutely whipped was not going to help that. He needed to seem more confident. Chris always commented on people's appearances, maybe that would work.

"Your tits look great.”

The waitress at the table opposite overheard his compliment and very audibly scoffed. Penny had a tendency for bitchy comments and he knew for a fact that she was going to go to the kitchens and spin a tale about him saying an inappropriate comment to a customer, which wasn't entirely untrue. Penny had no clue that this customer was his girlfriend.

But Y/N didn't seem to care. She let out a laugh and gave Penny a look that women often give each other to say, 'it's okay, I'm not offended by what he just said'. Cause men, y'know?

"Thanks, so do yours," she joked, patting her boyfriend directly on the pectoral. "How late were you this morning?"

"52 minutes. It's my new record."

"Congrats."

Once he gave the room a quick scan to see if anyone was watching them, Adrian was very slow and careful as he pressed his lips to her forehead so he didn't spook her with PDA that was too affectionate. He didn't notice Peacemaker's jaw dropping since Chris had hidden himself behind his side of the booth partition as soon as he saw the girl approach and not push away Vigilante's advances.

If he was honest, most - if not all - of his thoughts about Peace faded into the background when Y/N was around.

"Julia is on her way, get back to work before you get in trouble." Y/N nudged him further into the kitchen, giving him responding peck on the cheek before heading to her seat.

"Yes ma'am."

Phillip approached her table and took her order like he did every time she was there. Couldn't anyone else do it for once? He already didn't like the guy but now he was making moves on his girl in front of him. That's just despicable. However, his jealousy faded when he noticed how bored she looked in Phillip's presence.

At that moment, he knew that Philly boy had no chance. None at all. She never looked at Adrian that way.

When she was finally alone, Chris quickly slipped into the seat opposite her in the booth to inquire, "Mentally, what is wrong with you?"

"A learning disability."

"Fuck. Really?"

Breaking news - famed hero Peacemaker makes fun of a handicapped hot chick and instantly insults his partner in crime's girlfriend.

"Shit. Fuck. Fuck! Can I start over?"

Watching from the sink, Adrian thought that his luck was shit. How come when his best friend and girlfriend were finally in the same place and could meet, he had to leave them be and mindlessly wipe grimy food off grimy plates? He could be experiencing the biggest moment of his life: his two favourite people in the entire world meeting. But no! This moment had been ripped from his soapy hands.

"Go for it."

What should he say? Tapping his thick fingers on the table and thinking of how to introduce himself, Chris eventually said, "I'm Chris. I'm one of Adrian's buddies. He's probably mentioned me a few times."

"He has." Y/N tilted her head ever so slightly to the side, studying Chris like a bug. "I'm Y/N. I don't know if he has mentioned me. I hope he has."

"Maybe once or twice," he replied coolly, "I didn't think you existed until now."

"Why?"

He shrugged, "I would've bet 100 bucks that Adrian was making up his girl so I would stop calling him gay. Not that being gay is bad, I just thought he was lying."

Before she could answer, Philip arrived with her coffee and Chris noticed how the waiter looked straight down her dress like a perv. This random guy was leering at his buddy's girl. He had to back up his bro! He warned, "Hey man, her eyes are up there."

Philip was a big guy yet Chris was bigger. The waiter's eyes were laser focused on the cup in his hand, China clinging against the wood as he hurriedly set it down on the table, almost dropping it.

"Oh, sorry. I'll get out of your way."

"Please walk away," Y/N urged. It would be an exciting fight, for sure, but it would be quick and predictable. Chris would win, no question.

The pair's first real conversation consisted of bitching about Philip and comparing stories about Adrian for good measure, which was to the delight of the busboy, who caught a glimpse whenever he was left alone in the kitchen and turned around to watch.

There was a nagging in the back of Adrian's head. What if she liked Chris more than him? He couldn't win that. Chris was more muscly. He could play the piano. He was one and a half inches taller. There was no competition. Chris wouldn't do that, would he? Adrian tried to shake that thought from his head.

Eventually, Chris had to leave. He looked down at his phone, then mumbled something about banging some dude named Evan's wife and hurried away. Y/N was left in peace from Peace for five whole minutes before Adrian's break arrived and he slumped into the seat beside her.

"Chris is cool."

"I know."

Whenever he had mentioned Chris in their previous conversations, Adrian had been far more enthusiastic to tell her more than she'd ever asked to know. Why was his reply so short? He should be rambling right now.

"You okay?" Her gaze shifted from her laptop to him. "Do you want some of my coffee?"

"No thanks. Me + coffee is a bad idea. I'll be zonked out of my mind for the rest of my shift."

Weirdly, he hadn't discreetly - it never actually was as discreet as he thought it was - slid his arm around the back of her chair. He always did that. Something was up with him. That was obvious.

So, Y/N completely focused on Adrian. Her elbow rested on the back of his chair instead, her finger curling the ends of his hair around the tip, her body pointing in his direction so there would be no question where her attention was. She watched his eyes flicker to her lips, then to her eyes, then back to her lips, then they landed on his fidgeting hands and stayed there.

"It's okay for me to call you 'my girl', right? Cause I said you were to Chris and he had all these questions that I didn't know how to answer. And I don't me mean 'my' like I own you or anything - cause I don't and that would be super fucked up - I mean, like, I'm... I'm yours, y'know, I'm ya boi. I'm ya boi - I'm trying to say it seriously but I literally can't. I swear I tried both times I said it but my mouth has a life of its own," he let out in one breath. He said it so fast that she had to take a few seconds to process all the words that had just been thrown at her.

A few long seconds passed.

"We're lesbians, aren't we?" She asked and all the distress fell from his face. "I thought we agreed this morning that we're together?"

"Oh, thank god." His forehead made gentle contact with her shoulder and he let out a sigh of relief. "Chris got into my head, yeah, sorry about that. Chris is so cool - the coolest - but he can be a dick sometimes," he explained, sitting up straighter and fixing his glasses.

"He is cool but he's not as cool as you."

Someone thought Adrian Chase, the perpetual loser, was cooler than Chris Smith, the guy who was voted 'Most Likely to Survive the Zombie Apocalypse' in his yearbook?Yeah, Chris was a shoe in for that one because he'd been trained for combat whereas his peers had more loving and traditional upbringings, but it's still cool!

Adrian's brain malfunctioned. She knew all the right things to say to make him feel better.

"Marry me?"

"Bit early for that, isn't it?" she retorted, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Time is all wibbly wobbly."

"Your brain is all wibbly wobbly."

That was accurate. She could tell just by the goofy look on his face that he hadn't thought it through. He was quick to extremes when he was dealing with emotions that he had no idea what to do with. Apparently, whenever he felt particularly soft or tender, he went from 0 to 100 and asked her to marry him. He'd done it a few times when they were platonic, but now that they were romantically together, it had a different connotation.

Brushing that thought away, he brought her knuckles to his lips and pressed a sloppy kiss to her skin. A very sloppy kiss. One that made her ask, "Why is your mouth so wet?"

"I've been drooling over you all day."

"That's so cheesy."

"I like cheesy," he confessed while kissing her knuckle once more. "All of the best movies are cheesy. Or bad. Like High School Musical. Or High School Musical 2. Or 3."

"What about Sharpay's Fabulous Adventure?"

The conversation continued smoothly, their hands still conjoined until his break was over and he was forced to leave her side. He frequently caught glimpses of her through the door and got distracted watching her type her novel. And whenever Philip would walk up to take her order, she would be as polite as possible but immediately shut him down as soon as he tried to prolong their conversation. That's his girl! Of course she would try not to talk to his high school bully.

When he passed her table on his way to fix the coffee machine, he slowed down and leaned in close. "Since I was late, I've got to stay until closing time. If you want to wait around, I can walk you home," he murmured like it was a secret but quickly and quite loudly added, "Only if you want me to, of course."

Maybe she would want Vigilante to walk her home like he usually did.

"I would like you to."

Fuck yeah! Adrian 1 vs. Vigilante 0.

With the promise of escorting her home dressed as himself - which was huge - the final stretch of Adrian's shift seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. She waited outside as the locks were locked and the till was cashed up, leaning against the cool brick of the building while she watched the other workers leave.

Francis and Philip came out first, instantly lit up their cigarettes, and once they saw her leaning there, offered one to Y/N. She shook her head and, although they had been polite, stepped away so she wasn't inhaling their smoke.

Penny was next out. She didn't spend any extra time just milling around and got the fuck out of there as soon as possible.

Julia and Adrian were last out. It was obvious it was a casual 'hey I'm your boss and I understand that life happens sometimes but please be on time' chat that wasn't exactly unpleasant, but Adrian did break away from the moment he saw Y/N out of the corner of his eye.

Why were his colleagues looking at the couple so strangely? Maybe they couldn't believe that the pair hung out after hours. If so, that was stupid of them. Adrian spent every single minute of his breaks with her (and more if he snuck away, which he often did), why wouldn't he try and spend the rest of his time with her?

"You ready?"

Y/N watched that over Adrian's shoulder, he saw Philip's smug sneer and how he looked as if he was going to make a snide remark about Adrian. All the bullies from her past had also had that look.

"Pookie?" Adrian hummed his response. "Kiss me?"

Your partner tells you to kiss them, what do you do? Decline? Absolutely not! There was no question, no debating. His mind was made up. He didn't need to be asked twice. Eager was the only word to describe how he surged forward to kiss her, his hands wrapping around her back to pull her in close, and in an instant, Philip got the message.

"You cold?" He was taking his jacket off before she had even responded and draping it over her shoulders. Y/N didn't have the heart to tell him that she was actually quite warm and let him have his gentlemanly moment.

They began strolling to her house like they had done so many times before. And like all those times, he was having an internal debate whether he should reach for her hand or not. To test the waters, he inched his fingertips over hers just lightly enough that he could claim it was an accident.

"Are you trying to hold my hand?"

If she didn't explicitly say it, did that mean she didn't want him to hold her hand? He didn't want to be presumptuous and just do it; that worried him that he would come off as clingy. And clingy is not sexy.

"What? No! I mean yes, I wasn't..."

"Pussy."

She interlocked her fingers with his. He was far too happy to care that she'd insulted him.

10. Whore Panties

Y/N and Adrian took their time to get back to her house, their conjoined hands swinging between them like a pendulum as they took the long way home, the light slowly retreating from the streets and making it seem emptier with every block they passed.

"It's getting dark out," Adrian remarked, looking up into the sky and stating the obvious. "Let's get our butts a-movin' before it starts to get all creepy."

"I'll protect you from all the creeps, don't worry," Y/N reassured playfully. He was a crime fighting vigilante. He didn't need protection. And she knew that.

"You'll let me hide behind you if we come across any ghosts or witches or shit like that?"

For a moment, the meek nerd act seemed real. Y/N was no fool but if she had to guess, he wasn't as fearless when it came to the supernatural side of life. Killing a rapist? Very doable. Checking out a bump in the night? He would be like a scared little kid.

"Of course, pookie."

They got to her street and were greeted by her next door neighbour's house lit up in a multicoloured array of LED lights, all flashing and blipping along with a very loud mumble rap track. The Davenport teenager must be having a party. She was pretty sure that Mr. Davenport had mentioned that he was going away on a business trip that day since he asked if she could keep an eye on his teenage son. Oh. She understood. Kids always do the opposite of what they're supposed to.

Always. As long as nobody died of alcohol poisoning, Y/N didn't really give a shit about what they did. Kids will be kids, and kids will be stupid.

"Not to be a prick but disturbing the peace is a misdemeanour, and those children are annoying shits." Adrian stated, jumping face first on the couch as soon as she got her front door open.

Everything he said was factually correct.

"Not to be a prick but you are showing your age, grandpa. So grumpy," she teased with a smile, dropping down to sit on the edge of the sofa and run her fingers through his hair. "You're an old man these days."

"I am not."

Adrian flopped himself onto his back and stretched out his legs, groaning like an old man when his joints clicked and popped.

"They do say 30 is the new 45."

"Who says that?"

Just as Y/N was about to brush some of his curls off his forehead, he noticed her shit eating grin, knew that "You're fucking with me," and got a hold of her wrist. He tugged at her arm so she'd fall into him with his one hand as the other wrapped itself around her waist until Y/N was firmly trapped against Adrian's chest. Laughter filled the living room for the next few seconds as they wrestled playfully, although it seemed that Y/N's tactic was burying her face in the crook in his neck and giggling like a schoolgirl rather than doing any defensive manoeuvres.

Eventually, Y/N managed to lift herself up and rested her palms against his chest. That meant that not only her knees were straddling his waist, but she was also looming over him and giving him a direct view of her boobs. "My dad called me this morning..."

So, yeah, he wasn't listening to a thing she was saying. He made 'uh-huh' and general affirmative sounds but not a single word was actually comprehended. Cause boobies! You know? It took a full 60 seconds of his dopey, wide eyed leering for Y/N to notice. Once she did, however, it was obvious where his focus was. Her forefinger poked his chin upwards so he'd move his gaze from her chest to her face.

"What was I talking about?"

Fuck. He had no idea.

"You were talking about the new season of Fargo?"

"Wrong answer. Totally wrong."

Shit.

"Was I close?"

"Not at all." She purposely pulled at the fabric at her hips to expose herself even more. "Are my boobs hypnotising you?"

Some incomprehensible horny sound came from his mouth and couldn't keep himself from looking up at her cleavage. That noise only got louder when she guided his hands to her boobs, squidging his hand so it would squidge her. And although he was having such a good time, he wasn't showing it. His touch was as if he was afraid of hurting her, so unsure and cautious that Y/N felt the need to reassure him.

"Adrian," she cooed, causing him to sit up. "If you don't want to do this, we-"

"I want to do this." He paused to get the words right. "It's overwhelming cause I've been thinking about this for so long and I don't want to disappoint you - I'm great at sex, don't get me wrong. My head game is elite, you wait and see - it's just... sex has never been meaningful to me, y'know? And I want it to mean something with you. I want us to... I don't know."

This feeling stuff bullshit and being in love thing was hard.

"I think that any time I spend with you means something to me. Breathing the same air as you do is meaningful to me," she explained, placing a hand on his cheek and staring into his eyes. "If you want to wait, then we'll wait. (I will have to go into my room to finger myself in order to calm down because you've got me horny and I will have to sort that out.) Just say the word and we can -"

Interrupting her by sticking his tongue in her mouth, he hadn't even registered that she'd brought up masturbation because he'd been hung up on her sweet words rather than the raunchy ones. Every moment that they shared was meaningful to him too. There was no conceivable way that it could have more meaning than what they were experiencing right now. The way that he was feeling, what had happened between them, all of it was so natural that it had to be right, even if he didn't fully understand it yet.

Even if he didn't feel like he deserved her, Adrian knew that Y/N was the love of his life. He knew it. He had no idea how he knew it, but he knew it. For a motherfucking fact.

Y/N backed Adrian down until he was perched against the arm of the couch and being smothered in her lips. She'd found a particularly sensitive patch of skin just below the angle of his jaw and was fully abusing this new knowledge to get him to moan and beg for more. Due to how much affection he was receiving, Adrian was becoming more and more aware of how tight his trousers were getting. Frankly, they'd begun to get uncomfortable when she first straddled him and it had only increased since then. They needed to come off, he decided.

"Baby, please, I need to..." His mind was so fuzzy he could barely form words. She'd found his malfunction button so it took a lot of effort to blurt out, "We should take our clothes off!"

"Great idea."

In one fluid motion, Y/N pulled her dress off as he kicked his jeans off, almost kicking her off his couch in his haste. And, due to his eagerness, Adrian got his shirt stuck halfway over his face and flailed around for a few seconds before she helped him out of it, revealing his very scarred and muscled body. She traced her finger down his torso.

"You don't like them?"

He could tell just by the look on her face.

"No. I don't." Was that too blunt?

Instantly, he was scrambling to find his shirt, reaching and waving his hand across her carpet to grip onto the fabric. He hurried to offer, "I can put my shirt back on if you -" Whatever he was going to say or do halted as she shimmied back a bit to press gentle and loving kisses to his scars. The way she lingered on one in particular, the one on his stomach that was weirdly shaped like a five pointed star, had him taking in a deep breath. He was a little nervous to let her look at him in this light, to let her see all he had to offer, but she was so eager and her eyes were so bright that he didn't have a choice.

"I wish you had lived a life where this wasn't done to you, that's the part I don't like," Y/N confessed, letting her hands drift along his thighs. "There's no part of you that I don't want to see, okay? Gimme it all. I want all of you all of the time."

Well, that was a lot to internalise. Not yet though. He'd give himself time when she fell asleep later to relive that and tuck it away in his memories for a rainy day. Maybe he'd let himself shed a tear or two, but no more than that cause that wouldn't be cool and badass of him.

"Are we going to fuck now or what?" That definitely was the right amount of bluntness.

"Only if you want to," Y/N teased and leant down to place a kiss on his cock through his boxers, making a loud 'mwah' sound as she did so.

"If I ever say no, shoot me in the head."

She let out a snort that was not sexy in the slightest but it was the sexiest thing ever to him. That paired with the slow caress of her palms against his thighs meant that he was very ready to rock.

"Do you want to have sex here on the couch or on an actual bed?"

His response was so quick and excited and straightforward that only a real dum dum wouldn't be able to pick up on how horny he was. "I'm going to try to fuck you literally everywhere you'll let me so it doesn't really matter to me," he said, hooking his finger under her bra strap and fiddling with the elastic. "Bed, couch, floor, bathroom, kitchen, the backyard, astride a dragon. I'd really like to do it on a dragon."

"Hot."

Then they got back to smooching and he brought his hand to the clasp of her bra and waited for the go-ahead, which she gave him with no reservations. He unhooked it and pinged it somewhere in the room.

"Hachi machi!"

Like a moth to a flame, his tongue was immediately drawn to lick and swirl around her nipple, taking it into his mouth while drifting his hand down to move her underwear out of the way. The way she moaned and shifted against him, urged him to press a finger against her clit and massage in slow swipes.

"Can you do figure eights instead cause it feels bett- oh fuck - thank you," she muttered, arching her back and pushing her chest further into his mouth as he followed her instructions.

When he sensed that she was ready, he gently started curling his fingers inside her. The tight, aroused feeling of her wetness was enough to make him gasp and he had to stop moving his fingers for a moment so that he could remind himself that this was real. It wasn't one of his dreams.

Or one of those fantasies that he'd think up when he was bored at work, or at home, or when he was on patrol, or any time really. He thought about her a lot. In a lot of different positions. This was real. She was real. They were here. Together. He could literally feel how attracted she was to him. This wasn't a joke or a setup or an act. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. It was a mutual desire. Mutual affection. Mutual attraction. Mutual everything.

And it was fucking glorious.

Her hips rocked into his hand as he worked his magic with one hand while the other found hers and he pressed it into the sofa cushion. She was close. So close. He could feel it. He could hear it. Her moans soon turned into whines, which was the reason why he boasted, "I'm glad you approve."

"Are you going to fuck me or are you going to continue congratulating yourself?"

"Gonna fuck you."

So that's what he did. The whimper she let out as he removed himself for a moment almost made him spill his load right there, but he managed to keep his cool to yank his boxers down and lift her thighs to rest on his hips, the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance.

Once she'd given him a nod of approval, he pushed inside of her, the friction of her wet heat and the tightness of her muscles causing him to grit his teeth, breathe out, "Ohh-a-hoo, you feel good!" and squeeze his eyes shut to keep the embrace going for more than 5 seconds.

He picked up the pace far too quickly, his hands gripping her hips to keep her steady as he pistoned into her. She opened her mouth and made a noise that sounded something like "Uhhnnh," which he took as the cue to go faster.

"Baby... chill out. We have all the time in the world, slow down," she pleaded, her hands gripping his bicep with all her might so he'd listen to the words coming out of her mouth - which she knew was difficult for him when he was so turned on based on how this conversation started.

Abruptly, he stopped mid thrust. "You don't want to get pounded?"

"Not today. I would like to have slow, romantic sex with my boyfriend."

"How would you cum from that, though?" He asked with a level of curiosity that made it very clear that sex had always been a very straightforward thing for him.

"You just jackhammer into people until they cum?"

As cringe as it sounds, she realised as she said that out loud that he'd banged people before but he'd never made love to them. He'd had sex but never been intimate.

"Oh pookie," she cooed, pressing a reassuring kiss to his cheek. "Can I take over to show you?"

"Uh...yeah, I guess...?"

Y/N leaned in and captured his lips in a kiss, deepening it so he was completely compliant as she manoeuvred on top of him. Y/N rocked her hips teasingly slow,making him gasp and buck his hips up on instinct. She kept pressing smooches on his cheek so tenderly as she rode him that he was a submissive puddle below her.

She was being gentle, taking her time, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. "You feel good?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Mmm...so good." It was a struggle to keep his eyes open. He was on autopilot, in love with the feel of her, the scent of her, and it was taking all his concentration to stay in this moment and not let it slip through his fingers.

"I'm glad," she whispered, her mouth finding his earlobe to bite at it. "That you approve."

"I approve! I really really fucking approve!" he hummed. His hands found her hips as he moved them to pull her down to take him deeper. She was tight and hot, and he had the most amazing feeling in his chest that had nothing to do with his orgasm - although the orgasm felt amazing too. He was getting a little dizzy with happiness.

Or maybe Goff had done some lasting damage to him during the whole torture moment they had. Whatever the case, it didn't matter.

In the heat of the moment, his glasses began to fog up, which was quite a funny sight - or lack of it in his case - so he took them off, wiped them against the cloth of the sofa, and placed them back on so he could still see her. "You're beautiful," Adrian breathed, his eyes moving over every inch of her. "You are so fuckin' pretty."

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, her nails raked over his back as she parroted his words back to him. Because he looked so hot with his chest heaving, his eyes a little glassy, and his gaze so intense and so full of desire that she couldn't help but match it.

"You're my pretty boy, aren't you, pookie?" she asked, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as she gradually increased the speed of her movements.

"U-huh!" he stuttered out, his eyes widening and his hands grabbing her hips harder as he fought to hold on. His voice cracked. "I'm your... I'm your... I'm your... I'm your pretty boy."

"Yes you are, baby."

He pushed himself up, his hips rolling upwards to meet hers, and she was right there with him. Their mouths met in a clash of tongues and teeth as they moved in perfect unison, him pushing into her and her rocking back to meet him. She rode his thrusts and grinds, her eyes fluttering shut as the friction caused a firestorm of sensation to race through her.

Her hand moved to circle her clit but was slapped away so he could take over, using the exact technique she'd told him to before. He was panting her name in between grunts and groans of pleasure, each sound driving her closer to the edge.

Then, as she was teetering on the edge of oblivion, she gripped onto his hair and gave a firm tug. He cried out with a bunch of very loud expletives and let go of his own climax, pulling her down to take him deep and hard, forcing her to come down with him. The intense orgasm made her hug him tightly, burying her face into his neck as it washed over her. He stayed inside her, twitching as he fought to recover.

"Hey, we should-" he started, but Y/N placed a finger to his lips.

"Sh, just hold me."

They stayed like that. He did as she asked, basking in the warm afterglow of their lovemaking. They were wrapped up in each other's arms until their breathing had slowed and their hearts had calmed. When she had caught her breath, she chuckled when she noticed that his specs were lopsided and filthy, and reached out to clean them for him. She asked, "Are you okay?" as her hand trailed up his spine.

"I'm good," he mumbled, his eyes barely open. "A bit dizzy. But, like, sooooo good."

"How dizzy? How many fingers am I holding up?" She placed her middle finger in front of his face and was rewarded with a bite to her shoulder. "Ow! You freak!"

Adrian rolled his eyes. He'd been called a freak so many times but never so lovingly before. He leaned in and gave Y/N a quick peck on the temple, murmuring, "I'm a freak? I'm not the one with my panties full of cum. You're a freak with a capital fuh. Those, babe, are what I call whore panties," right on her hairline.

"Gross!" Y/N's face was flushed. It was the most adorable sight in the world and Adrian's entire world, as he smiled from ear to ear. "And if you think about it, it would be easier for whore to not wear underwear. It is literally their job to be cooch out."

"You're weird."

"Yeah, so are you."

With a playful nip to his ear, Y/N stood up and helped Adrian to his feet. "Let's shower," she said, dragging him out towards the bathroom. They'd only taken three steps before he was picking her up by the waist and carrying her there. She didn't protest. If anything, she found it charming. Giggling in his arms just felt right.

Next Chapters: 11-15

#adrian chase #vigilante #vigilante x reader #adrian chase x female reader #peacemaker #adrian chase x reader

[ascendedastarionapologist]

like not to get overly personal, but i did find the ascention ending very powerful and satisfying, as someone with an extensive history of sexual abuse

this is a bit more of a personal reflection than of an actual analysis of character regarding the ascention ending but it does mean a lot to me on an emotional level. and please, this is all my subjective thoughts, this read is deeply personal, and depending on your veiw, canon divergent. if you veiw the ascention ending as horrible and icky and abusive, that is a fair read. i understand why you feel that way. that is personal to you.

i know the standard read for astarion is that he is sex repulsed due to his trauma. if that is what resonates with you, i am glad you can find solace in that narritive.

for me, i am hypersexual in response to my past. so that has heavily influenced my read (as an aside hypersexuality and sex repulsion can often go hand in hand, but it seems the signs of astarion's hypersexuality are often ignored in favor of his sex repulsion, so i will be doing much of the same here.)

i do think astarion is hypersexual, using his sex appeal to secure some kind of a relationship, only finding value in his sex appeal, ect ect, all very relatable experiences.

playing through his romance, what stuck out to me most was not his lack of or disgust for sexual desire, but a deep sense of feeling loss in the wake of his impending freedom. if you are fortunate enough to escape abusive circumstances, you are probably familiar with the feeling of a lack of direction in what comes next. his diffuculty in making personal choices.

when it comes to either ending, keeping in mind the theme of choice, you either

a) trust him, and let him male the choice

or

b) make the choice for him, and he trusts you

this is obviously the simplest possible way to put it. 7000 unlives are on the line, and astarion's past is clouding his judgement. the ascention ending is dark, extremely so, epecially taking into consideration astarion's emotional state after word. (here's a post i made on that)

his newfound power simply has the side affect of perpetual sensory overload, causing astarion's emotional states to become more exaggerated.

and this is where i'm going with the hypersexuality thing. darker sexual fantasies can be a way to exersise control over previous traumatic events. as person who struggled with similar things, seeing astarion own those feelings was cathartic. he isnt without desire, his desires now are so painfully clear. though he's manic, he remains tender in the turning scene, tav's comfort in the situation is important ("please be gentle" vs "let it hurt"). he's indulging his darker impulses while maintaining a healthy relationship with it.

in another post i talked about the omission of certain lines not changing if astarion was ascended or not. on a meta level it probably just wasn't possible due to cost or time crunch, but on a textual level you get the experience of astarion showing growth in relation to sex. he has the same reaction to the drow prostitutes, learning what he does and does not want from sex. he has the same reaction if tav gives their body to haarlep, telling them they shouldn't have to "put up" with it. he's mad with power and totally possesive, but he's still making personal progress. it is oddly dissonant, perhaps even a flaw, but it gives the supposedly inhumane ascended!astarion a very human representation.

the ascention ending is a vicerally selfish ending, but in a fantasy it is nice to indulge that.

#ascended astarion #astarion ancunin #this is just like me rambling on my feelings about the ending #it means a lot to me #sa mention #my posts

[fandomsoda]

People are tired of you.

And I’m tired of being lied to.

I’m tired of being told that people love me when they don’t. I’m tired of showing vulnerability to others only to be stabbed and made to bleed out. I’m tired of asking people if everything is alright and then they lie and say things are fine when they’re not. I’m tired of asking people if I can do anything to make them more comfortable or if anything is making them uncomfortable only for them to lie and say they’re fine when they’re not. I’m tired of trying to accommodate and make people happy only to be treated like a nuisance.

I am tired of telling people that I care about them and being lied to in return. I’m tired of pouring my heart out to people who don’t care. I’m tired of telling people I’m afraid to lose them only to be ghosted within the hour. I’m tired of loving more than I am loved. I’m tired of giving everything to people whom I mean nothing to.

I’m tired of being hurt and being blamed for being angry rather than apologized to. I’m tired of being lied about and demonized. I’m tired of fake friends. I’m tired of spending months thinking people are angels when they’re really just liars. I am tired of being kicked when I’m down.

I’m tired of saying over and over again that I need people to tell me how they feel so that I can be the best I can for them only for no one to be truthful to me. I’m tired of being treated like a monster when the real monsters are in your own mirrors. I’m tired of being broken by the people I would have broken myself for. I’m tired of every little thing I do being perceived as a slight, I am tired of being accused of “playing the victim” when I am HURTING. I am hurting. Really fucking bad. More than any of you can imagine.

I’m tired of no one talking about me TO me.

I’m tired of people actively trying to provoke me and fuel my insecurities.

I am tired of being expected to just accept hurt, slander, and abuse simply because any attempt I make to defend myself or fight back will be perceived as me being “hostile” or “dangerous”.

I’m tired of people thinking they can stab a dog and then be angry when it bites them.

All I ever wanted was to be good enough. Good enough for the people I care about, good enough for you. I just wanted to be sufficient. To make you happy, to be respected. When I tell you I would have given my life for some of the people who’ve harmed me, I am not bluffing. I trusted them, I hung on their every word… I just wanted to be good enough for you. And you seemed like angels. And I would have broken myself just to make you happy. But you never communicated or told me when I did something wrong. And the second I said “hey, that was mean, don’t do that” or “hey, this person is hurting people I care about, can you please talk to them about it?” not only did you do nothing, you acted like I was being unreasonable to ask such.

And I’m so tired of still loving these people. So tired of still giving you the benefit of the doubt, internally giving you grace you would never give to me. I am tired of excusing your actions. Yes, everyone processes things differently, but there is a massive difference between needing time to process things and refusing to even try to handle a situation. I deserve to be angry, I deserve to hate you. Because I DIDN’T deserve this. For so long I’ve internalized all the things you’ve said and despised myself, having to hide that insecurity so that others couldn’t hurt me with it, but no more. Nothing I have ever done has ever warranted this. Nothing has warranted the mental and emotional torment I’ve been put through, no one deserves to suffer in the way I have. I am not exaggerating or trying to be dramatic when I say that this whole mess has been downright traumatic. I am… physically shaking and have spent hours crying over everything for months and I am so sick of suffering.

I don’t deserve this, these people never deserved me, and I deserve people who are willing to understand and communicate with me. I deserve people who actually care about me. And luckily, I have plenty of lovely people like that. I just wish I didn’t think y’all were some of them…

And even then. It doesn’t mean I don’t miss and love the people I thought I knew…

[lemon-tea-leaves]

i am in a constant cycle of "i'm not traumatized i'm being melodramatic and making up symptoms" to "ok well maybe my trauma was traumatic but like come on. compared to people who ACTUALLY have DID and/or C-PTSD it's nothing" to "then where are your symptoms coming from. why would you just make up symptoms that actively distress you to have even when no one is around. if you're 'making it up' and it 'wasn't that bad' then why are you still having symptoms even when you 'shouldn't' be. why do you ONLY have this thought when you're having symptoms."

and now that i'm more aware of what DID...is, a small (metaphorical, very much still bev) voice has an answer:

"because it scares me."

i want to deny it because it's safer to deny it. it's easier to go "this wasn't abuse/trauma" or "this might've been traumatic but you're exaggerating" than it is to say "i experienced something traumatic and i'm experiencing the consequences of that in the form of DID and C-PTSD". and even then, this is a knowledge i have in my head and not in my heart, for want of a better term. and i know this because the cycle doesn't stop.

the knowledge that i'm just scared kind of makes the denial parts of the cycle shorter, sure, but all in all, i still experience that denial because it's safer for me. or so my brain thinks. i have to fully internalize it eventually, but that's fucking scary too, actually. the knowledge that i will need to truly know it on a deeper, subjective level is scary.

a lot of people talk about the concern about their trauma not being "enough" to cause DID. this isn't condemning that at all—as a matter of fact, i experience the same thing. but i don't really experience it in terms of a fear of faking. i experience it in the form of a fear of it being real.

i don't know if anyone else experiences this. if you do, feel free to like. reply or smth. but like. i have such a deep-seated fear around actually having DID. and when i convince myself that i can't possibly have DID, i (bev-lemon) feel relieved—but something else in me (whole-lemon) gets so distressed. and then when i finally come down and start realizing that i'm just scared that my trauma was, in fact, Enough™, i intellectualize the information and pocket it and never touch how it makes me feel aside from "oh. that's scary."

i don't know how to describe it. it's like. i feel it but i don't. i don't think i can fully allow myself to feel the fear of my own traumatization...because that involves subjectively accepting the fact that it happened on more than an intellectual level.

again, i don't know if anyone else experiences this. feel free to reply if you do. or if you don't. i'll put it in the tags regardless. but i just wanted to like. get it off my chest, i guess.

#bev.docx #personal #vent #actually dissociative #actually did #dissociative identity disorder

[aftonfamilyvalues]

I am terrified if men.

I mean my father did everything to me but rape me. And he’d assert dominance over me /threaten me because he didn’t want other guys to sleep with me, date me, didn’t want me to get married, etc.

I’m no contact and he knows better than to contact me because if he does I’ll take legal action. My mom died and she was the one protecting him.

I seek therapy because I want to heal and am repeatedly invalidated about my trauma and about the reality that most men are abusive, sexual predators.

I’ve expressed that I’m sad I didn’t experience ge t romantic love..

Which is only to say that I’m all about separatism and even though I’m not dating men cause I’m traumatized by them, I have this regret over not having been able to explore a healthy sexuality, and a fear of missing out.

The last therapist I had was malicious/emotional abusive. Would read and be on the computer during sessions and deny doing it. Claimed I talked to much, (bad luck with this super narcissistic, very misogynistic old woman, grandmother /in her 60’s,) she ignored me /was very devaluing, then perked up “it can happen at any age!” She either thought I was lying or l exaggerating about being abused, or/and definitely not listening because I’ve never expressed wanting a bf or a husband, ever. Of course I did as a teenager/child. It’s honestly so demoralizing when even a therapist views you as inferior and like your being single is a problem and thinks you’re talking too much and attention seeking.

I’ve never not had a female therapist downplay or invalidate my trauma and male violence. I wish there were more feminist based pyschotherapists / bare minimum, therapists who do not project their family values Bullshit. I’ve never not have had a therapist view me as the problem to all my experiences. I’ve therapists judge me and treat me as subhuman for being childfree and single.

I def need therapy as I’m so traumatized that I’m scared to sleep and not sleeping anymore and it’s impacting my health. I also can’t regulate my emotions well and I’m a fearful avoidant with ptsd, some folks say therapist isn’t necessary because most are bad. I’d honestly argue most therapists have very misogynistic beliefs…

Is there any way to ver that out. I get so gaslight I lost my sense of self/ I’ve had to recover from bad therapy but once out of therapy I start feeling less crazy… I do we’ll months on my own without talking to someone but then need therapi.

I’m legitimently scared of them at this point. I did give my last therapist feed back about her behavior, when I told her “I’m a person, and I don’t deserve this treatment” and then responded with “I don’t believe you” she raged and yelled at me, blaming me for her being distracted, telling me I talked too much.

I’m started to lose hope however that there are therapists who recognize patriarchy and oppression as a root cause to mental illness, rather than a partner as a cure for mental illness 🙄without claiming I’m the problem when I’m the one showing up to therapy for what happened to me. Therapists all just think their patients are mentally I’ll crazy women who can’t get a man. I feel insane when I go to therapy. Because I’m terrified of men and the focus is never on me as an individual, but (I shit you not, and tbh I even told her she was giving me harmful advice,) but tk shift the focus on my “distortion” of why I think I “can’t have that now.”

(I actually believe there are good therapists in just scared to open up now /be devalued/have a therapist not even treat seperatism as viable or even suggest it to me as an option. I don’t need a therapist to suggest it to me but I’d trust one much better who did. It sucks leaving a therapy session feeling worse because you don’t feel good enough.)

I really think most therapists are sexists because they have male bias

i think ive mentioned it before but therapy is more of a business nowadays. all these therapists arent people that actually want to help, very few of them do, most of them saw a growing industry and decided they could bank on it. they dont care to help and heal, they view therapy as a way to make someone (women) "normal" and fit in to society rather than working through trauma and have a healthy life, even if that life isnt the typical one. ive also seen a lot of therapists feed into bad behavior, validating the emotions and victim complexes of abusers all while teaching them a new progressive language to wield against their victims. i still think about how my friend went to therapy and the entire time going culminated into the conclusion of "your life sucks and theres nothing you can do about it" like what???? it seems like traumatized people come out of these sessions worse and i have no doubt that abusers are going into this field to extend their reach. i feel like the more people glamorize therapy the more this is going to happen.

#ask

[ina-nis]

I will never stop talking about how harmful some therapy modalities are, even if they're considered the first line of treatment for many mental illnesses.

Cognitive Behavioural Therapy (CBT) is one I particularly hate, not only because it has harmed and traumatized me personally, but because the whole premise of this "therapy" (if I can even call it that) is based on victim-blaming and gaslighting. Full stop.

I found a very good interview/article about the harm CBT can cause on chronic pain patients (I am also one of them!) and it sums up most my feelings and why I would never recommend it to anyone - and I'll actually go out of my way to warn people about it, be mindful and know what they're getting into if they do decide to try.

It's important to note that, even though this is about chronic pain, this fits for a lot of other things, like personality disorders. They're all interconnected after all, and the ableism we face is always similar, unfortunately.

It was incredibly difficult for me to function day-to-day due to the pain and fatigue. It felt like no one understood what I was going through, including the therapists I saw who told me I was just anxious or overreacting. I was told that my pain wasn’t real, would pass if I stopped paying attention to it, or was being exaggerated. I received the same message from many others in my life. They told me I was faking to get out of school or being melodramatic for attention. None of that was true. So on top of being in chronic pain that just got worse, showing up more often and in more areas of my body, I felt dismissed, judged, and alone. Most of my chronic pain treatment, aside from over the counter meds and the occasional prescription for symptoms like heartburn or migraines, was therapy and psychiatric medication. Doctors continued to dismiss my pain and gave mental health diagnoses instead of investigating my physical symptoms. The underlying physical issues causing my pain were overlooked and misattributed to being psychosomatic. Psych meds never helped my chronic pain. I tried almost all of them, yet that didn’t signal anything to my psychiatrists except that I was a “difficult case.” They didn’t consider that there really was something physical going on [and many people do have co-occurring physical and psychological conditions]. (...) Unfortunately, even with my recent diagnoses, the conditions I have are under-researched and don’t always have clear treatment paths. The medical establishment has intentionally neglected researching and treating them. Most doctors don’t know much about the conditions or falsely believe they’re too rare to need to know about, so I’m basically back to square one. I’m still not being provided treatment that actually helps my chronic pain. Even with a growing list of medical diagnoses, therapy and psych meds are still routinely recommended to me, sometimes as the only treatment option.

As I said... way too similar, isn't it? This has been my experience with both chronic pain and most my mental illnesses. It's especially hard to digest regarding AvPD - where one of the treatments is to "just go outside and socialize" and the fact that doing that makes me suicidal is overlooked, conveniently. You're not taken seriously, people think it's just a matter of "willpower" and "positive thinking" and "just don't think about it." A big fat load of bullshit, huh?

But I guess I get it? People don't understand how it is. They most likely never will unless they go through it themselves so, of course, they will offer all these "solutions" and "fixes" - including medical professionals - and will blame you after things straight up don't work, or don't work for long enough.

I do not see anyone talking about side effects and the harms treatment can cause. Nobody. Not a single fucking soul. But if it doesn't work then it's because you're "treatment resistant" or you just didn't get the right mix of meds, or you're just not trying hard enough. Aha!

Now delving into CBT itself...:

(...) I remember pushing back when therapists told me my pain was exaggerated, “all in my head,” or that I was focusing too much on it and making it worse. Therapists told me my pain was psychosomatic. I wasn’t given the space or encouragement to process or discuss my grief, fear, or trauma around living in chronic pain and having it untreated and dismissed. Trying to ignore the pain didn’t stop it. I always knew there was something medical going on. I told them that I was suffering. It didn’t matter. They still thought they could convince me my pain wasn’t real, or that I was choosing to suffer from it even if it was real. That didn’t help, and they were wrong. CBT as a modality is based around gaslighting. It’s all about telling a patient that the world is safe, bad feelings are temporary, and that pain (emotional or physical) is a “faulty or unhelpful” distortion of thinking. That’s literally in CBT’s definition on the APA website. But how do they determine that someone’s thinking is “faulty or unhelpful”? From the first session, therapists told me my way of thinking was the problem, not the medical conditions I couldn’t control or things like systemic injustices, financial struggles, trauma, and discrimination. And that’s a big problem with CBT. When therapists look at patients through the lens of patients’ thinking being faulty or distorted, not the larger issues impacting their lives, therapists miss those larger issues and the patient is invalidated and harmed even further. [Maybe some people find CBT helpful] but what happens in CBT when your thinking is not actually distorted? When you’re someone who has chronic pain, chronic illness, and disability? Someone dealing with systemic and societal issues that are very real and harmful? Someone dealing with trauma, PTSD, or currently being abused? Someone living in a global pandemic that’s disabling and killing millions of people? I believe CBT is built to be dismissive and invalidating. And that’s what was done to me for so long that even I wondered at times if maybe I was causing my own pain, that if I “fixed” my thinking and could stop being anxious, my pain would get better. But two decades of therapy only made me feel more lost and confused, and the pain only got worse. I lost so much time focusing on therapy that I could have been seeing the right specialists and doing preventative treatments that might have stopped my illnesses from progressing the way they have.

CBT is based on the premise that any patient coming into therapy is experiencing distorted, “faulty,” “catastrophizing” thinking. CBT therapists are trained to convince patients that they’re overreacting and that they’ll feel better when they realize they’re overreacting. They believe patients will realize that the world is actually safe (or at least safer than they think it is) and that emotions are based on unjustified fears and misinterpretations. Except that isn’t true. I can’t say I know anyone that’s true for. And it very much blames the victim, the patient. It tells them the problem is their way of processing pain and trauma, not whatever is actually causing it. With chronic pain, the problem can be physical, worsened by the neglect of the medical system. I can’t wish that away. I can’t convince myself I’m not in pain that exists and is being neglected. It’s not true. And it’s harmful to tell me that’s how I’ll get better when it’s not. Also, CBT practitioners seem to work off an assumption that patients will feel better if they refocus their attention to distractions. I can’t tell you how many therapists told me to just go out, make new friends, join a club, even giving me worksheets to schedule and report those kinds of activities. None of that helped me. First of all, it was hard to go out and make friends when I was living in chronic pain. It also felt so dismissive to be told the solution was just to distract myself and pretend everything was fine when I had real, physical pain and trauma going on that wasn’t being properly addressed. I believe the way CBT is prescribed and enacted for people in chronic pain is certainly harmful and inappropriate. [It has been useless to me and many other chronic pain patients.]

(...) I’ve never heard of a pain coach, but from what I’m seeing via Google it looks a lot like CBT to me, except with even less training or oversight. I’m seeing phrases like “creating harmony,” “triumph over pain,” and “focusing on strengths” on coach websites. It looks like a form of life/wellness coaching? The websites seem scammy and ableist. Maybe there are good pain coaches out there, but I can’t tell that from what I’m seeing, and I’ve never seen anyone in the disability community recommend them. So, I can’t speak to it formally, but my guess would be that this is not a non-harmful or trauma/disability-informed method of treatment, at least not overall. I would caution against recommending something like that in lieu of CBT, and certainly not without the input of folks with lived experience of disability who have done it.

I have nothing else to add. This person put my own feelings into words I could have written myself.

I wish we never had to deal with this kind of issue and that it would get better someday. I wonder about that and I really doubt it... but the more people speak up, the more the harm will be seen and maybe something can change eventually.

(About this last part in particular: "coaching" is a huge can of worms because most are not medical professionals or trained psychologists. It is indeed a scam and the whole industry is just like that. You know multi-level marketing/pyramid schemes but make it "therapeutic"? Yeah...)

(...) Even some of the better-seeming doctors promote modalities like CBT, mindfulness, meditation, and biofeedback as first-line treatments. Those things have never helped my chronic pain. My guess is because it’s physical and structural, so at best those things could calm me down temporarily, but all those feelings come right back because the pain never stops, I’m being continually traumatized and mistreated, and I live in survival mode all the time. It’s been a long time since I found any mode of therapy helpful. ACT [acceptance and commitment therapy] had its moments because it was about coping, finding whatever power and agency I could in any given moment or situation, but I still found that limiting because truly accepting chronic pain doesn’t feel possible to me. The anger, fear, grief, and depression always come back because the pain, the source of those feelings, never stops. Sometimes it can just be nice to talk to someone, but I’ve also had problematic and traumatic therapy experiences even with therapists who say they specialize in chronic illness. Sometimes they can still be ableist, tell me I’m “catastrophizing,” and make the same mistakes. Many of them also practice CBT and seem to fall back into it with me when they feel stuck or overwhelmed by my situation. I’ve been unable to successfully do trauma work because therapists tell me we can’t work on past traumas while I’m living in trauma. The chronic pain ensures I’m always in some kind of trauma or survival situation, so I don’t know if or when real trauma work will be possible. My trust in therapy is very limited at this point. I believe much of it has been harmful and I’m not sure there’s a current modality that is truly helpful or validating for people experiencing chronic pain, disability, oppression, and/or active trauma.

#resources #inanis post

[creekfiend]

I feel like lately I've been posting a lot about stuff I am Working On re: socializing and also re: trauma and I want to be clear because I think a lot of navel gazing traumablogging can end up being weird and like, This Is Or Should Be Aspirational:

I'm not telling anybody how to be or how to run their lives when I describe things I'm trying to do or trying to be more aware of in mine.

You do you. Genuinely I don't know most of you (there's over 10k blogs following me, however many of those are active real people I dunno but it's inarguable that the percentage that are people I Know Personally is low) I'm not invested in or judging how any of the rest of the internet is approaching stuff like this. If the approach a stranger takes to online interaction causes me significant enough distress I'll block them. My block list isn't like, a List Of Objectively Bad People Who Do Bad Things.

For example, I right now in my life am at a point where it really behooves me to take a step back from a lot of activist stuff. Obviously if everyone did that there would be no activist stuff, lol.

Right now I'm in a place where I find I need to SERIOUSLY carefully monitor what types of interactions I allow in my life because my nervous system is so shot to fucking hell that a basic argument online can actually mean I become so deeply upset for so long that I'm like, not able to function or eat and have to take a lot of medication to offset my nervous system physically going haywire. It's really bad. I don't talk about it a lot because like, it feels weird and self centered and exaggerate-y to tall about being upset by arguments or disagreements. Lame! Either "well duh no one likes arguments/conflict" or "oh boo hoo baby can't even tolerate online disagreement". Like no. It genuinely will fuck up my actual nervous system, which is already so fucked that getting MORE fucked means I have to take heart pills for my heart.

That my cardiologist gave me.

For my heart.

Like I feel like sometimes we (me too!!!!!) forget we are all dealing with inhabiting our own bodies and reacting to our own experiences. And I know i have a lot of overlap with a lot of other gay traumatized chronically ill weirdos. But that doesn't mean I'm the boss of you. I'm so whatever the opposite of the boss of you is. I'm just some guy.

#dysfunction junction #idk once u get a certain amount of following or even notes on a post it feels like it gets given #authority automatically #good reminder no one on the blue website has authority over you #their disapproval cannot harm u

[ismaet]

Presenting... the four Amphibia AUs I have going on while my brain tries to restart the Encanto part of my soul!

(Like seriously, I am not abandoning Housekid- it's just that my brain literally would not produce the Juice for it. So, Amphibia for now, folks! Hold on to your butts, and may Frog help me!)

A. HEARTY WIT - my very first Amphibia AU! Born out of my intense desire to have a Swap AU where Anne actually reforms the Tower instead of it changing her because duh there's a reason she's Heart AND where Marcy pushes Wartwood to an age of magitech and causing all the youth of the town to be smarter than any other youths in Amphibia because Big Sister Marcy showed us how we can kill you with paper and a leaf and we will not hesitate to do so.

Also, Marcy and Sprig Soulswapping as they grow up is just poggers man. Anne gets two friends for the price of one, Marcy gets a family that actually cares for her, and Sprig gets Mr. and Mrs. Boonchuy as parents early on! (Because how could you not notice your daughter's best friend occasionally having hair made of green ethereal clouds or act like a completely different child signaled only by changing eye colors?) It's a win-win!

Sasha, bitch, I'm sorry in advance.

B. ONE WORD IS ENOUGH FROM A BRIGHT GIRL - my second Amphibia AU! Born from wanting to give Marcy the dad she absolutely deserves- one that could match her brains and understand her in a way no one else ever could.

I mean come on! These two were the best pair of brainiacs before True Colors like Jesus Christ Andrias was one more month away from saying his very first Dad Joke. Also they're both gamers. Also they're both holders/chosens of the Wit Stone. Also they both betrayed their friend groups in some way. I'm already both excited and dreading for the chapter where they confess to each other- Marcy with her Truth and Andrias with the whole Core business -and then plan on how to make up for their shortcomings as well as figure out a way to off a God.

(Marcy would totally make a diss track about the Core and Aldritch and Andrias would have to use the will of Atlas himself to not listen to it 24/7. )

Anne, sweetie, you're about to be Andrias' kid-in-law and you better ready your ass because this man just recently opened up his heart for the first time in a thousand years- you better believe he's got some spoiling to make up for. It'll probably get worse when he finds out you're an honorary Plantar. I can already imagine his booming voice going-

"Oh, come on, Leiflet! Are you really going to settle for that? My Eftlet deserves better! Try this one instead- it's her favorite shade of green!"

"Your Highness please this is the 56th suit you've made me try on I'm dying-"

C. BLUE-GREEN PARENTING - the AU that went hand-in-hand with OneWord! Born solely to torture Annarcy with their own daughter and literally nothing else.

Like, the most frequent images that come into being in my head in reference to this AU are just Anne and Marcy perpetually red-faced and Lily just cackling in the background.

Also, Anne desperately saving Lily from falling off a flight of stairs, getting eaten by a mantis, and sinking into quicksand because she was distracted by her surroundings and/or writing in her journal is one of the main driving concepts of this AU. Anne's got TWO super smart Idiots now and oh boy is it gonna be a ride.

And I'm not exaggerating. Lily has Anne's face and personality (As well as the Boonchuy curse of always loosing the left shoe and could only be offsetted by wearing mismatched pairs), but she has Marcy's on everything else. Energy, Passion, Intelligence, Stims, the ability to go into the Zone,- she's basically Marcy with Anne's confidence. That's an (unintentional) devilspawn right there- God Bless, Anne!

Also- what? What are you talking about? How's True Colors gonna go? Well... All I can say is that I am totally not lying in saying I'm not gonna traumatize a 5 year old. I frogging swear.

Also Also, Sasha? Sorry not sorry!

D. PLANTAR BEAST - my final Amphibia AU! For Now! Because we all know how quickly AUs form! Born to literally only have Feral Anne but not to the point of loosing her humanity! She's a frog, but she's also human, so oh boy, better watch out! We've got a predator with the movement of Prey- you can't run, that's for sure!

Also, it always bothered me that we didn't get any episodes about the Plantars teaching Anne how to survive Amphibia. The closest we got was that Bog Vlog where they taught US how they hop, and that's about it. Like seriously- nobody thought to train after the disaster of Toad Tax? They got lucky with Combat Camp teaching Anne how to swordfight for Reunion, but if what if they hadn't? If Hop Pop took them with him? Anne would've lost immediately to Sasha.

And so thus, Plantar Beast. Sprig teaches Anne how frogs fight and move, her powers activate early because she's always in danger- she gets frog parts because she's Heart and her heart says she wants to have those frog parts -as well as causing the side effect of activating dormant human predatory instincts. This simple change, this simple decision to train, causes absolutely massive ripples in the story.

Like for example- Sasha doesn't fall, because Anne has a long ass tongue and the jumping ability of a god. That alone changes all of Season 2, yeah?

Also, no shame, the moment I realized Anne will have her tongue during Reunion, I immediately had her bitchslap Sasha in the Outline. It was absolutely needed.

So anyway, that's all of them! For now! Feel free to ask questions, leave comments- those will definitely help my outlines develop.

Thanks for reading!

#amphibia au #amphibia swap au #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #swap au #housekid!au #OneWord!au #Blue-Green!au #PlantarBeast!au #HeartyWit!au #king andrias #king andrias leviathan #the core #sprig plantar #polly plantar #Lily Boonchuy-Wu-Plantar #marcanne #annarcy #marcanne child #fankid #au #Dad!Andrias

[justiceamberheard]

Amber Heard’s rebuttal

Julian Ackert, a computer forensics investigator

Mr Neumeister told the court he had analysed photos of Heard with alleged injuries and said there were different versions of some images and that some had gone through editing software.

Mr Ackert says that for all but one of the photos Mr Neumeister analysed, he found that the original versions of the pictures did not show that they had been through editing software in their exif (exchangeable image file format) metadata.

He says the specific photos that he reviewed were authentic.

Mr Ackert says that based on the photo metadata he has reviewed, he has no reason to question the authenticity of the photos.

Dr Hughes

Dr Hughes determined the actress suffers from PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder), while Curry says she has exaggerated symptoms of this and actually suffers from personality disorders.Dr Hughes tells the court that Heard did not exaggerate on one test that she used to assess her for PTSD, as Curry suggested.Curry also said that Dr Hughes misinterpreted her test results. Dr Hughes disputes this and says it was actually Curry who misinterpreted them.Dr Hughes also dismisses Curry's testimony that victims of PTSD are "effectively unable to function", as Heard's lawyer Elaine Bredehoft describes it.Dr Hughes says this is a common "myth and misconception" and adds: "People who are struggling with trauma and PTSD are very strong, courageous, resilient people, even though they are struggling,"

Dr Hughes is questioned once again about boxes she left blank on a form, which came up during her original testimony. She says she didn't fill them in as the necessary details were covered in 88 pages of notes she made on Heard.

Amber Heard

"I am harassed, humiliated, threatened, every single day," she says, and is very emotional. "Even just walking into this courtroom, sitting here in front of the world, having the worst parts of my life, things that I have lived through, used to humiliate me.

"People want to kill me, and they tell me so, every day. People want to put my baby in the microwave, and they tell me that. Johnny threatened, promised me, that if I ever left him he'd make me think of him every single day that I lived…"

"Every single day I have to relive the trauma. My hands shake. I wake up screaming."Heard says her friends have to live with "unspoken rules" about how they can "not scare me", and "how to not touch me". She says intimate partners also have rules."I live my life with these sets of rules," she says. Even training for something such as a combat scene in Aquaman, she says, can be triggering and spark a "meltdown".

"I am not sitting in this courtroom snickering. I'm not sitting in this courtroom laughing, smiling, making snide jokes. I'm not."This is horrible. This is painful. And this is humiliating for any human being to go through. Perhaps it's easy to forget that - I am a human being."And even though Johnny promised that I deserve this and promised he'd do this, I don't deserve this. I want to move on."

Heard says she receives hundreds of death threats "regularly, if not daily". Thousands, she says, since the trial has started, and people "mocking her testimony".Crying, she says: "I just want Johnny to leave me alone. I just want him to leave me alone. I've said that for years now."Asked what she hopes to reclaim "after this is over", the actress tells the court: "Protecting the secret I did for as long as I did has taken enough of my voice. Johnny has taken enough of my voice. I have the right to tell my story..."I hope to get my voice back."

Heard denies alerting US entertainment site TMZ that she would be at the court.

Johnny Depp's lawyer Camille Vasquez says she wants to show Amber Heard a picture already admitted to evidence.

She says she had no expectation of whether Moss would "show up" or not, saying "it didn't matter... it doesn't change what I believed at the time when we were on the stairs and I thought he was going to kill my sister."

#amber heard #i stand with amber heard #johnny depp #anti johnny depp

[findingmypeace]

This was originally part of my other post but I ended up doing a lot of ranting and going down rabbit hole I did not intend to go down. My original point was to discuss why I have such a hard time moving on and letting go but obviously it didn’t quite work out like that. I feel vulnerable posting this and obviously I have talked about all of it many times. I’m just not sure if I’ve ever put it all together like this on tumblr and it feels more revealing this way.

Also I am going to stop right here and make a big trigger warning. My ‘rant’ includes many of the traumatic comments my parents have made over the years. While I’m not sure what I’ve experienced is really *abuse* I tagged it as emotional abuse and I am making this warning for the sake of anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable reading this topic.

In a dream world my parents would listen to me as I recount everything they did, then they would apologize, and (again this is dream world), they will change and give me all the support, validation, and understanding I’ve always wanted from them. That is 100% never going to happen. In their mind I’m a ball of emotion and drama and apparently I love every bit of it.

That’s the problem. I am haunted by so many one-liners that my brain has decided to hold onto.

“You’re not going to die” (said with an eyeroll) “If you want to fry your brain, you’re an adult and I can’t stop you.” (about ECT) My Mom: “I don’t think you should go to treatment because you enjoy it. You were laughing when all the other girls looked grumpy.” Me: “Mom, that hurts.” Mom: “Well you don’t want me to lie to you do you?” My Dad, years earlier, “I don’t know you well enough to know if you need treatment” “My Dad, a year ago: “You chose to develop bulimia. You researched disorders, decided on bulimia, and deliberately developed it.” My Mom: “You’re an addict and addicts die”. The ‘addict’ part was not the problem. It was her tone of voice. Like she really didn’t care if I lived or died. Yes, she said it out of anger and irrationality but that was devastating to hear from my Mom.

I’ve heard these one-liners my entire life. It is not surprising then that I despise myself and second guess every word I say. I’ve never been able to relate when people talk about comforting their inner child. I’ve just never truly believed my parents were…incorrect? It’s not that I’ve believed I was a ‘bad’ kid. It’s that the message I got from my parents was everything I said or did was an exaggeration of the truth for the sake of getting attention.I was told (about my ed): “You’re lying. You’re making it up for attention.” And in present day, I get all those lovely comments from my parents that I listed above. That is why I stopped talking to them…

I don’t know where to go from here although I know I need to move on and stop perseverating on all of this. Like I said in the other post, how? How do I say, “It was hurtful but I’m letting it go?” Like how do you flip the switch and just move on? I have no idea how to get to that point.

#personal #attachment trauma #trauma #family #TW: emotional abuse

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Titan Bending Chapter 12

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Chapter Warnings: Hand-to-hand combat, slight angst

A/N: Disclaimer: I don’t actually know how to fight. That will probably be painfully obvious to anyone that has experience. I’m saying this because…go easy on me please. This is just how I think I would fight if I knew how or had literally ever been in a fight.

WC: 4371

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

Tags: @mochminnie @sseleniaa @naruwitch

Despite the whirlwind of events, the following days fell back into an easy routine. Training, cleaning, experiments. If it weren’t fun it could almost be monotonous. Hange hasn’t been able to do as many experiments as she would like with Eren or myself because she’s been stuck in a slew of meetings with Erwin and Levi to plan an upcoming mission to retake Wall Maria.

Since everyone in any kind of position of authority has been trapped in these meetings, most training starts with Levi giving us instructions and then stepping away. Maybe it’s because I’m the oldest, but I sort of become the de facto leader whenever he’s away.

On this day in particular, the focus is hand-to-hand. Since Historia isn’t on the squad anymore, there would be an odd number if I participated, so I opt to sit out. Even though the unspoken agreement has been that I’m in charge when Levi is gone, I still don’t want to overstep a boundary so I ask, “Would you guys like me to come around and critique you while you spar?”

Jean laughs a little and my eyebrows knot together in confusion. He says, “No offense, but what do you know about sparing? You’re a waterbender.”

My face lights up with mischief. I have been presented a golden opportunity. “Alright hotshot, why don’t we spar right now, in front of everyone, and I’ll show you what I know about fighting.”

He’s a little taken aback and slightly flustered but Jean can’t back down from a challenge so I knew he’d accept. Everyone else stands back to give us space and Jean gets into an exaggerated stance. His posture makes me smirk as I get into a loose stance of my own.

We stand there for a moment before Eren gets impatient on the sidelines. “Are you guys going to fight or just stand there staring at each other?”

This flusters Jean just enough to get him moving. He acts like he’s going to throw a right hook but fakes out for a left instead. He’s not able to make contact though because I simply grab his fist and stop him in his tracks. We stand there for a moment, frozen, and all I can do is grin at his surprise. Still holding his fist, I twist to put him behind me and in position for my elbow to jab him.

Be careful, y/n. Nothing more than, like, 20% strength. You’re trying to teach him a lesson not maim him.

My elbow connects and I hear the wind get knocked out of him, but I don’t stop there. With a quick bend and pull, I’ve flipped him over my shoulder. Jean now lays on his back gasping for breath. Standing over him, smirking, I simply raise an eyebrow at him and he manages to choke out, “Lucky shot.”

“Yeah, right,” I say sarcastically before reaching out a hand to help him up.

As he hobbles back over to his partner, Connie, I say loud enough for everyone to hear, “I lived as a non-bender for about five years. To this day, I’m more comfortable fighting hand-to-hand or with a weapon than I am with my bending.”

They all stop and just look at me and it’s Mikasa that breaks the silence to tentatively ask, “Why were you a non-bender?”

I snort, having anticipated that question. I simply reply, “When I was a kid, I used my bending to do bad things, and for a while, I was convinced that the bending made me a bad person.” I shrug one shoulder before continuing, “Obviously, I know now that that’s not the case. But I’m honestly glad I learned how to take care of myself without my bending. That way if there’s ever an eclipse I can still defend myself.”

They all nod and after a beat of silence, I exclaim, “Alright! Whatcha say? Want me to try to help you out?”

Armin responds the most enthusiastically but everyone agrees. So as they all pair off and begin to spar, I walk around inspecting them. I fix some form here, some technique there. One thing I notice across the board is that they almost all are reactive instead of proactive.

“Try to anticipate your opponent’s next move before you even make your own! Think it through, strategize,” I call to everyone. After a few moments though, I realize that there hasn’t been any significant change in how they’re sparring.

“Hey, pause everyone. Do you know what I mean when I say to anticipate your opponent’s next move?”

Sasha is the one that speaks up first. “Um, think about what they’ll do if you throw a certain punch or kick?”

“Exactly. But you need to take it a step farther. Think about how the move you want to throw will leave you vulnerable. About how you’ll counter their counter. And how they might respond to that. You need to be thinking a few steps ahead. Um,” I look around, finding my test dummy, “Eren, will you come spar with me so I can sort of show what I mean instead of saying it?”

A little nervous after my demonstration with Jean, Eren only hesitantly agrees. Standing in front of everyone, I begin explaining, “Okay, so I never like to throw the first punch. By allowing your opponent to throw the first punch you can learn a lot about how they fight, where their center of gravity is, things like that. Now, before I ever square up with someone, I have a few methods of countering punches and kicks in my head. You only really need to know a handful of offensive and defensive tactics to be a pretty good fighter.” Turning to Eren, I smile and say, “Alright, take your best shot, but only do one move at a time because I’m going to take some time explaining in between.”

He rears up and before he throws anything I can tell what he’s planning, so I stop him, instructing that he stay in exactly the position he’s in.

“Okay, so before he follows through, what can you learn?”

“Um, he’s right handed?” Connie says.

“Okay, fair but we could’ve gotten that before he moved just based on his stance. As soon as he started moving in, what can you tell about what he’s planning?”

I’m so caught up in my impromptu lesson that I don’t notice Erwin, Hange, and Levi watching from the sidelines.

When no one speaks up and I notice Eren is starting to shake from holding the awkward position for so long, I finally give in and answer for them, “If you look at how he shifted his feet you can tell that he’s going to kick, roundhouse kick to be specific. Alright Eren, go ahead and reset yourself. Now, as soon as you can tell that your opponent is going to roundhouse, what are your options?”

After a beat I begin to get a little impatient and huff out a sigh, prompting Mikasa to speak up, “You dodge it.”

“That’s one option, is there another?”

Another silence, and I don’t wait as long to answer my own question, “You could counter it or you could block it. Those are the other options. I’ll take the lack of an answer as people not knowing how to counter or block a roundhouse?”

Everyone other than Mikasa shakes their head, so I continue, “Well, let’s go through the pros and cons of all three. Dodging is always the easiest; you’re literally just running away. That being said, it can also drain your energy pretty fast because you have to make a lot of bigger movements, quickly. Blocking takes the least energy but you have to be careful that you block the hit with an area of the body that can take it easily. Countering involves knowing the weaknesses of a particular attack and exploiting those, but is most likely to leave you vulnerable to some kind of attack. What are some weaknesses in a kick?”

Armin pipes up, having discussed this with me previously. “Kicks are slow, especially if you do one that deals a lot of damage because it takes longer for you to set up for it.” I beam at his response.

God I love that kid so much.

“Fantastic Armin! Do you remember the other weakness of kicks?” I ask in response.

“They’re unsteady, right?”

“Exactly!” Directing my attention to Eren, I say, “Okay, so Eren I’m going to have you do the same kick three times. The first time I’m going to dodge you, the second time I’m going to block you, and the third time I’m going to counter you. After each move, I want you to do what feels natural and what you would do next if it were a real fight, okay?”

He nods in response but I can tell he’s gearing up to give it his all.

The first kick comes and I jump back so that it misses me. He then lunges for me and I slide out of the way, tripping him in the process which pulls a laugh out of everyone. “By choosing to dodge his kick like that, I would ideally try to follow up right away to intercept him before he tries to make his next move. Since he jumped straight into his next move, I didn’t have an opportunity to do that so I continued dodging, but notice how I kept the move as small as I could so that it would take the least amount of my energy while still draining him. That’s a particularly good strategy if you think your opponent is stronger than you, and the way I approach fights is to always think that my opponent is stronger. It’s just my opinion, but I think it’s far easier to be on the defensive than the offensive. And it never hurts to tire out your opponent.”

The second kick comes and I grab his leg. He tries to use that against me and throws a punch, but I turn and block it with my shoulder, proceeding to pick him up and throw him down on his back.

“Okay, so here you can really see how easy it is to anticipate and stop a kick as well as how it throws you completely off balance. When I chose to grab his leg, I was thinking about what would come next which is why I pivoted so that anything he tried to throw would hit my shoulders which can absorb a fair amount of impact. My goal then being to get him on the ground. One more time, Eren,” I smile at him as I reach down and help him up.

The third kick comes and I drop to the ground so it flies over me. As I do so my leg juts out and trips him, and in one motion I crank his arm behind his back and kneel on him, effectively pinning him. Dropping his arm, I explain “A good counter usually involves a dodge or a block before retaliating. This time, I was thinking about what I could do to ensure the fight was as quick as possible; you always want your fights to be over quickly. The way you do that is by limiting the number of options your opponent has. In the second demonstration, getting him on his back was fine, but it still left me vulnerable because he could still hit me, kick me, headbutt me, or any number of things. If this were a real fight, the position I just had him in would have been very easy to break his arm. It’s also much more difficult for someone on the ground to knock you off of them if they’re on their stomach versus if they’re on their back. Do you guys see what I mean now about thinking ahead?”

They all nod and seem genuinely excited to get back to sparring. As everyone is getting back into it, I notice a presence behind me. Turning to glance over my shoulder, I see Levi, Hange, and Erwin. I smile and wave before returning to the team, so I miss the quiet conversation they have:

“She’s quite the teacher,” Erwin states.

With an elbow to Levi’s side, Hange teases, “Yeah shorty, looks like she’s coming for your job! Hell, at this rate, maybe even the title of Humanity’s Strongest Soldier!”

Levi’s only response is a curt “tch,” but Hange and Erwin silently exchange a glance when they see just the tips of Levi’s ears turn red.

I’m pulled away from my lesson by Hange calling for everyone to go to lunch quickly so that we can get to the day’s experiments.

As we all stand in line chatting idley, Eren interrupts my small conversation with Hange. “Commander Erwin, Captain Levi, Section Commander Hange? I’m sorry to interrupt but I was just thinking about it and, well, I was wondering if we could schedule some more time for y/n and I to practice hand-to-hand since that’s how my titan fights.” He pauses before quickly adding, “If that’s okay with y/n, too of course!”

I grin at him and assure him that it’s more than fine with me before turning to the others to await their response. Erwin and Hange don’t seem to have a problem with it, but Levi seems more than a little hesitant.

“You can train with me, brat,” Levi curtly answers.

I raise an eyebrow at him as Eren stutters out a response, “O-oh, um, yeah, sure Captain. I-I-I just thought, ya know, you’ve been really busy lately a-and y/n is a really good teacher s-so I thought i-i-it’d be easier for y-you!”

“Hey, Levi, if he wants extra hand-to-hand training I’m more than happy to help. No need to put extra stress on yours-”

“It’s fine,” Levi cuts me off. “We still don’t understand his titan fully, and we certainly don’t understand you and your bending fully. It’s safer for me to work with him.” He says all of this looking straight ahead and I have to hide how deeply that hurt.

After all this time, he still doesn’t trust me. Why does that sting so bad?

I shrug and all I can trust myself to say is, “suit yourself.”

What strikes me as odd though is that Hange and Erwin both seem surprised by Levi’s answer. They don’t question it, but they definitely weren’t expecting it from what I can tell.

After that awkward exchange, I ease myself into a conversation with the kids. Throughout lunch, it seems like every time I look up Levi is intentionally looking down at his tray or off in the distance. Actually, he’s looking just about anywhere that isn’t at me.

He’s always observing me. He’s hyperobservant of me and everything else for that matter. Does he realize I’m butthurt about his little comment? Or…or does he not like how comfortable I’ve gotten? I bet that’s it.

Trying not to let myself get too lost in my thoughts, I focus on finishing my food so I can head outside with Hange. Motioning to her when I’m done, we head outside.

“Okay, so I was thinking we could take a different approach to today. I want you to train as if I’m not here. How do you practice to improve your waterbending or just to stay sharp? Whatever it is that you do, I want to see it.”

“That’s all fine and dandy,” I say. “But I don’t really have a body of water big enough to do what I’d really want. I can only pull some water from the grass and work on precision things.”

“That, my dear y/n, is where you’re wrong!”

I raise an eyebrow at her and she motions for me to follow her. After walking in the direction of the stables for a moment, we come up to a small pond surrounded by piles of dirt. When I look at her questioningly, she says, “We had some new recruits dig it recently for precisely this purpose!”

I beam at her, the hurt of Levi’s mistrust vanishing and being replaced by warm and fuzzy feelings of being considered.

“This is sick Hange, thank you so much!”

Without waiting for a response, I quickly walk about knee deep into the pond. The water is cold but not necessarily uncomfortable. Without a second thought, I start to gently make waves around me.

Hange squeals, “Oooooohh what’s the purpose of that drill?”

I smile and explain, “This is probably the most basic move in waterbending. It’s the first one children learn, even people that are designated to only be healers. I would say it’s more of a warm up than a drill.”

We continue on like this for a few hours, me doing a move and Hange questioning what it is and why I’m doing it. We carry on like this for so long, actually, that Erwin has to come and find us to bring us to dinner.

As we’re walking back, I say to Hange, “I think I understand how you get so carried away that you miss meals now.”

She just laughs in response.

I pause for a moment before asking, “Hey, Hang. Do you know what Levi’s problem was earlier?”

She looks at me quizically. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just talking about when we were in line and Eren asked for extra hand-to-hand practice. I was surprised he wasn’t in favor of the idea and then he was acting super weird all throughout lunch.”

She laughs again and this time it’s my turn to look at her curiously. “Erwin and I had just teased him about how good of a teacher you are and how you’re going to come for his job, I honestly think he was just pouting.”

I giggle at the thought of Levi sticking his bottom lip out and pouting like a child. “Okay, thanks Hang. That makes me feel better.”

Turning to me, she says, “Why were you worried about it in the first place?”

Embarrassed by how I had jumped to conclusions, I try to play it off. “Oh…it was stupid, don’t worry about it.” I should’ve known that Hange wouldn’t let it go that easily.

“No, even if it’s stupid I wanna hear it.”

I glance to her eyes and i can see that she’s being genuine, just a friend checking on another friend. One corner of my mouth turns up and I chuckle a little before saying, “Oh, I mean, it sounds ridiculous to say it out loud now but…um…I guess I was just sort of worried that he thought I was overstepping and that he didn’t like how comfortable I’ve gotten. It kinda seemed to me like he still didn’t trust me.” I trail off towards the end.

“To be fair, Levi doesn’t trust anyone.” I snort at her response. She puts a hand on my shoulder to signify that she was being serious again as she said, “But I genuinely don’t think that’s the case, y/n. You’ve become a really valuable member of the team. And even if it is the case, you can tell shorty to go fuck himself because we’re not getting rid of you.” By the end, Hange is grinning at me and I can’t help but smile back at her.

I throw my arm around her and she returns the gesture, and we walk into the mess hall together like that.

Taking the same seats we sat in during lunch, everyone falls into easy conversation again. Levi still seems to be in a mood but thanks to Hange, I’m able to brush it off much more easily this time around. That is, until Jean brings it up directly.

“Ya know, y/n, you really surprised us all with how good you are at fighting like that. None of us were expecting you to be nearly as good as Captain Levi.”

I noticed that this caught Levi’s attention and even though he was trying to be subtle, I could still feel his eyes on me awaiting my response. So, I thought I’d have a little fun with it.

I playfully raise my eyebrow at Jean when I respond. “Nearly as good? I’ll have you know that I was holding back so that I wouldn’t permanently disfigure you. I’d say I’m at least as good as the little shit.” As I finish, I’m holding back a grin as I glance in Levi’s direction. It seems my comment had the desired effect and he’s a bit pissed and a lot flustered.

Everyone else “oohs” like school children egging on a fight. Hange can’t contain her laughter, and I can tell Erwin is holding back, too.

After this continues for a moment, Levi finally musters up a curt, “Is that so?”

I can’t hold back my mischievous smile anymore, and I respond, “Yeah, absolutely. As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen you fight hand-to-hand at all. So as far as I’m concerned it’s just a myth everyone else has made up about you. You’re probably not even that good.” I knew the last part was a risk, and by the way everyone fell silent they clearly knew it too.

I was trying to guage his reaction and for the first time today Levi finally looked at me. I couldn’t read what he was feeling, as per usual. He cooly says, “Is that a challenge?”

My grin only intensifies at this, seeing that he’s taken the bait. Maybe I’m just gaslighting myself, but it seems like he’s enjoying this just as much as I am. So I take it a step farther.

“Ya know what? Yeah, it is. So whaddya say? We fight, right now, and let’s say whoever the winner is gets to be the one to train Eren.”

His eyes narrow, but his response catches me a bit off guard.

“You’re on.”

Everyone quickly moves outside I now find myself on the training field in a standoff against Levi, all of his subordinates and our friends surrounding us from a very healthy distance.

Staring each other down, I can tell immediately that he has abundant experience. Compared to Jean who immediately went into a strong athletic stance with clenched fists, Levi looks like he could be doing something as mundane as going to the market or giving a standard order. He’s loose, his hands free, his shoulders relaxed - a nearly perfect reflection of my own stance. Taking this in combination with the fact that we seemingly have fairly similar backgrounds, I know he’s not going to make the first move.

Trying to make it as out of the blue as possible, I come at him like I’m going to punch him in the face. In fact, the punch I’m threatening is not unlike the one I hit him with not too long ago. Except I have no intention of punching him. I wait to see his reaction before I decide how I want to dodge.

He’s blocking, twist right to jab his back.

I must have caught him at least slightly off guard, but it didn’t phaze him. He whips around and lunges, which I gracefully sidestep leaving him to take extra steps to catch his balance.

He punches and I swipe it with my forearm so I can bring my knee up to connect with his solarplexus. Biologically that cripples just about anyone, but it only makes him take a step back before coming at me again. 

Punch, dodge. Grab, twist. Elbow, lunge. 

Fuck yeah, he fell for it!

Tricking Levi into being the aggressor, I proceed to dodge and block everything with as minimal effort as possible.

He’s easily just as good as everyone says he is.

If a bystander were to pass, it would almost look like we’re dancing with each other the way we’re almost rhythmically moving in step with one another. 

This back and forth continues longer than any fight I had ever been in. Usually well before this point there’s been enough of an opening for me to exploit and subsequently end the altercation. But not with Levi.

As I’m indulging in my inner monologue, I instead leave myself open and Levi comes in, throws me, and pins me on the ground exactly like I had done to Eren earlier.

Except, instead of going a step further and breaking my arm behind my back, when he applies pressure my shoulder dislocates with a loud pop. He hops up quickly, clearly feeling kind of bad but not wanting to admit it.

This is my chance.

Just as the others start to enter the field, he offers to help me up but instead I hop up with my right arm hanging limply at my side. 

I pop it back into place and lunge for Levi in one fluid move. 

Since I was already in close proximity from his offer to assist me in getting back to my feet, I was able to take him down easily. With the roles from just seconds ago reversed, his arm cranked behind his back and face in the dirt, I lean down to chuckle in his ear and say, “I’m not letting go until you tap. Admit that I’ve got you beat.”

He struggles for a minute but ultimately does just that. As soon as his hand taps my leg, I leg go and offer to help him up.

Grinning once again as I help pull him to his feet I say, “To be fair, if one of us didn’t tap like this, I think it could’ve easily gone on forever.” I pause, and my smile shifts from triumph to something much more genuine. Speaking quietly enough that only he could hear me, I continue, “You’re just as good as everyone said you were. And, for the record, I knew that before I ever started talking trash. I just wanted to see if you’d take the bait.”

Without waiting for his response, I turn to find Eren and yell, “Jeager! Training starts tonight! After sundown!” And with that, I leave the field.

#aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #avatar: the last airbender #atla #the gaang #Levi Ackerman #Levi x y/n #Captain Levi #Levi x reader #Hange Zoe #Prince Zuko #Zuko #Zuko x y/n #Aang #Katara #Sokka #Toph #Suki

[hanzajesthanza]

Triss Merigold for character bingo

my friend's favorite, the blorbo by proxy - @essskel your girl :^)

the fandom is so mean nice smh - most people treat her so cutely without considering any of the betrayal and cowardice, it's actually funny. i mean, more than half of this crowd is games-only/netflix-only, so that's why - they don't actually know her from the books - but even so, even book fans forget her political statements to focus on her relationship with geralt... which should be discussed, but it shouldn't end at that. geralt is really a footnote in her list of treacherous acts.

*puts them in a salad spinner* - to shake off the 'water' from her, all of the teen-like smiles and giggles, to find the truth of how afraid she is...

they didn't get bullied enough - it was so satisfying when nenneke talked some sense to her in ch 8 of lotl. i wish we had more scenes like this:

‘I feel,’ repeated Triss Merigold, ‘as though I’ve been robbed.’ Nenneke didn’t answer for a long time, and looked from the terrace towards the temple garden, where the priestesses and novices were busily engaged in their springtime work. ‘You made a choice,’ she finally said. ‘You chose your way, Triss. Your own destiny. Of your own free will. Now isn’t the time for regrets.’ ‘Nenneke,’ the sorceress lowered her eyes. ‘I really can’t say anything more than what I’ve said. Believe me and forgive me.’ ‘Who am I to forgive you? And what will you get from my forgiving you?’ ‘But I can see how you’re glaring at me!’ Triss exploded. ‘You and your priestesses. I can see you asking me questions with your eyes. Like “What are you doing here, witch? Why aren’t you where Iola, Eurneid, Katje and Myrrha are? And Jarre?”’ ‘You’re exaggerating, Triss.’

not for me but i can see the appeal - interesting character, i think she's a real 'realistic' statement of those sane ones who aren't compelled to insane acts of heroism, those who are afraid (and especially, those that feel that way specifically because they are traumatized). she's a tempering force to the heroics of geralt and yennefer. i just wouldn't call myself obsessed with her

character bingo

send an ask

#ask #jawanaka #c: triss #ask meme