Can you do a companions react to the Inquisitor being Autistic? Especially Cole?
I (Mod Sarah) am autistic, so I was very pleased to see this request. That being said, autism is a wide-reaching term for an entire spectrum of symptoms that affect people differently– every autistic person is unique, and each has their own quirks and symptoms. I feel that companion responses would vary, depending on what symptoms and behaviors the Inquisitor in question is displaying. For the sake of simplicity, I will be basing this autistic Inquisitor off of my own unique brand of autism, finely aged and diagnosed for the last ten years. Let’s get this show on the road.
Cassandra: Their behavior confounds her, at least at first. They avoid eye contact like the plague, can have intense reactions to stimuli, such as loud noises like explosions upset them with ease. She at first thought they were just being childish, but eventually realizes they’re genuinely hypersensitive to certain things. She guesses that they’re not exactly neurotypical, judging by behavior, and tries to be more receptive to their needs and sensitivities after finding out they’re innocent. It doesn’t particularly bother her that they fidget and stim and avoid eye contact, or even sometimes speak too loudly or too quietly– so long as they’re honest and good at heart. Iron Bull later on describes a mental condition known to the Qun that’s akin to autism and other development disorders, and she agrees that they likely are autistic. If Romanced: He likes just lying by her side, citing the same poems he knows by heart, staring up at the sky with her. She’s smiling, too, as she listens, knowing the poem by heart from repeated recitations as she holds his hand and looks up at the world beyond, so long as they’re there for each other.
Iron Bull: He’s met people like them. He figures it out after observing them, and he adapts accordingly. The Qun values people like them, especially if they have special interests, which are encouraged and honed for special jobs as adults. As a result, he respects them more at first. He accommodates them, and never asks them why they avoid eye contact or fidget or stim in any way. He informs the others what he thinks is different about them, and that’s about it. The man is also good at figuring out what they mean when they speak somewhat disorderly, as if words got jumbled before coming out, and often clarifies for the others. He’s a big source of help during the Winter Palace, getting them out of sight and letting them calm down or stim when overwhelmed. If Romanced: Sex with him is somewhat specialized, but fantastic– he figures out what they do and don’t like, and he works with it. Sometimes they just lay side-by-side, while he massages their muscles in just the way they like it, whispering sweet words of comfort at just the right tone for them, repeated and quiet.
Blackwall: He’s never encountered someone like them, so he thought, until Bull tells him that he likely has but never noticed. He’s not really sure how to go about them, so he just decides he’ll take it in stride and work with them. It works well, and they’re comfortable with each other. After he’s revealed to be Thom Rainier, they actually get over it pretty fast, regarding what he did as a Bad Thing, but he’s trying to make up for it, which they accept. If Romanced: He’s more worried than usual about going into romance with them, because he’s worried that if and when they find out who he is, she’ll have a meltdown, she’ll refuse to even look at him, what have you. He doesn’t want to break her heart. When the time comes, she’s having a meltdown, but not because of who he is– but because he’s in jail, and she desperately wants him to come home. When he finally does, he gets a scolding, but she forgives him. He decides that his new mission in life is making her safe and happy, like she made him.
Sera: She doesn’t care in the least– in fact, she likes it. She sort of relates to them, actually– to the point where she starts wondering if she’s autistic at all. She gives them all sorts of things and textures to fiddle with. She speaks at a level that doesn’t upset them (while she enjoys yelling and cheering and howling with laughter, she’ll take it down a notch for their sake) and will viciously prank anyone who gives them shit for their quirks. “It’s not like they can help it. It’s just who they are, and anyone who says otherwise can knob it.” If Romanced: The romance proceeds mostly like normal, though she doesn’t start yelling at her in the culminate scene when describing her nightmare, because she knows it will upset her. Instead, she avoids her, frustrated and trying to figure out how to describe what’s going on, and opts for writing it down. The Herald reads it, looks up at her, and frowns. “But I love you,” the she says, sounding a little hurt, “I’m sorry about the dream, but dreams are dreams. They don’t have to come true. I just want to be with you.” Sera’s heart melts, and tackles her with a kiss.
Varric: He’s very understanding and unfazed by their quirks, and isn’t surprised when Bull mentions they’re probably autistic. He just works with it, with who they are, and treats them like people, not just a weirdo. “So what if you’re a little different? That’s what makes you who you are, and you’re fine.” They like listening to him tell stories– his voice is nice and even and calm, which calms them down. Often they ask for the same few stories they like again and again, but Varric doesn’t mind– he’s happy to have an enraptured audience. He also suggests to them trying to write to get their thoughts out, to express themselves, and it helps.
Cole: He is of a LOT of help to the Inquisitor. He’s good at voicing how they’re feeling or what they’re thinking if they’re incapable in any way of doing so, as well as getting them things they need but don’t vocalize that they need. “They’re a little different in the way their thoughts work, but they think of new and wonderful things that most can’t. They are good the way they are.” He protests whenever they have to mask how they actually act, citing it as stressing them out and exhausting. He also knows exactly what textures, sounds, and tastes they do or don’t like, often bringing them things for stimming to calm them down or steering them away from offending stimuli, such as excessively bright lights or noise. If they have a special interest(s), he happily listens to them info-dump without getting remotely bored– it makes the Herald so happy, which makes him happy.
Vivienne: She was a little off-put by how they acted in her chateau at first, but she starts suspecting something isn’t normal about them aside from the mark. When Bull explains the disorder to her, she does research and quickly comes to agree with the diagnosis. She’s significantly more patient with them as a result, and she tries to coach them on talking to people. “Unfortunately for you, eye contact is a standard of Orlesian society,” she says, “if this is too difficult for you, try focusing your attention on a nose or intricate part of the mask. They’ll never tell the difference.” When it comes to fidgeting, she actually gets them a notebook and fancy quill, and advises them to play with the quill against the notebook when at parties– Orlesians will just think they’re working and admire it, while they can stim to some extent. She recognizes it’s part of who they are, and must be worked with instead of covered up.
Dorian: They get frustrated easily with social interaction, and if they recruit the mages, practically the whole time spent in future Redcliffe is them trying to not have a meltdown or sensory overload. He tries his best to keep them as calm as possible, but begins to think that maybe there’s more going on with them than just panic at their situation. Bull explains what he thinks is up with them, and Dorian buries himself in whatever information he can get about the disorder. He gets good at calming them down and using certain spells to numb certain sensations or noises, which greatly reduces their stress levels. If Romanced: He cringes, at first, when the Herald bluntly tells anyone who asks that he’s his boyfriend. They don’t understand at all why it should be hidden in any regard, and Dorian tries to explain his discomfort, or at least plans to– until he sees him positively glowing with joy and pride as he talks about him, and Dorian smiles and reconsiders. He really does love him, and Dorian knows it– and loves him back.
Solas: He’s seen memories of people somewhat like them in the Fade, being social outcasts, misunderstood and called stupid when they were anything but. He won’t treat them like that, and he strives to understand them and their disability to the best of his ability. If they don’t mind, he asks a lot of questions about how they feel and think. Often he listens to them info-dump about their special interest, if they have one, and sometimes they get embarrassed. He just encourages them to go on. If Romanced: Assuming Lavellan has a special interest of some sort, he starts taking her into the Fade, showing her old memories of anything related to what she’s interested in. He listens to her talk, happy and excited, and she thanks him with a kiss. “Ma serannas, ma vhenan!” she squeals. “No, I am the one who should be thanking you, Vhenan.” he replies with a chuckle and another kiss, soft and sweet.
Josephine: She notices their lack of tolerance for eye contact before any other symptoms, and while initially worried she did something wrong, the others explain the Herald’s unorthodox behaviors and tics. She, along with Vivienne, tries her best to coach them on talking and interacting with others. It’s not without hard work and tears and meltdowns on the Herald’s part, but they have relatively smooth sailing in the Winter Palace with their hard work. They’re absolutely exhausted after trying to act neurotypical, and she always feels so bad for them and tries to compensate them with something they like. She also cringes at their awful handwriting– it looks like chicken scratch on steroids– and figures out it’s due to poor eye-hand coordination. She also spends a lot of time trying to remedy this, even considering hiring a scribe to help them. If Romanced: They like listening to her just talk about her day, sometimes asking her to repeat stories again and again, old and new. They cuddle on the couch before the fireplace in their room while they cuddle, and Josephine is full of bliss.
Leliana: She’s unfazed by their unusual behavior and tics, and is remarkably patient with them. She likes it when they don’t hide it, because she can tell how they’re actually feeling and thinking most of the time when they don’t mask themselves. She sometimes gives them raven feathers that have fallen to the ground to the Herald for them to run their fingers along the smooth texture, which pleases them. It always brings a smile to her face to see them relax, even a little.
Cullen: You meet all sorts of people in the Circle, and autistic mages (and the occasional templar) were among them. He’s receptive to their sensitivities and needs, and accommodates them without complaint or so much as a second thought. He takes it all in stride, knowing that’s just how they are. When Bull tells him about autism, he just nods. “That explains a lot about a lot of different mages I’ve met over the years.” he remarks. If Romanced: She likes running her fingers through his hair, a sort of stim in and of itself, and he tolerates it, listening to her hum and chatter about the day’s events.
Everything was proceeding according to plan. And yet … He
couldn’t shake a certain creeping sensation … a kind of cold, slimy
ooze that slithered up the veins of his legs and spread clammy tendrils
through his guts … Almost as though he was still afraid …She will die, you know, the dragon whispered. He shook himself, scowling. Impossible. He was Darth Vader. Fear had no power over him. He had destroyed his fear.
“Certain sensations are slumbers that fill up our mind like a fog and prevent us from thinking, from acting, from clearly and simply being. As if we hadn’t slept, something of our undreamed dreams lingers in us, and the torpor of the new day’s sun warms the stagnant surface of our senses. We’re drunk on not being anything, and our will is a bucket poured out on to the yard by the listless movement of a passing foot.”
Fernando Pessoa, from The Book of Disquiet (Penguin Classics, 2002)
Hi, I wanted to request this but was scared first.. Well then... (if you have done this one before, can I get the link.?)Head canons on RFA guys + Saeran's reaktion when they meet MC's ex on the street and he is kinda deuchy or clingy 💜
(Oh? Don’t be scared! I love getting requests!! I have not done this before ^~^ and it sounds like fun! I’ve seen one really good one of these going around, so I’ll make this as original as possible.)
IMPORTANT: I realized this when I wrote it..but, I put “he” for your ex. (Not Jaehee’s but.) When it very well could’ve been a she?? I know I’ve dated my fair share of girls, so I’m not trying to leave other sexualities out T_T Please understand, thank you.
707: (TRIGGER WARNING?? Mentions of an unhealthy past relationship.)
• He was a little shocked when he saw your ex casually walking beside the two of you.
• Seven wanted to ignore the guy, and just get you out of there…
• But. He noticed you.
• “..(Y/N)? Hey!!”
• You looked over, and instantly narrowed your eyes.
• And seven knew..that this specific ex landed you in an abusive relationship. Your ex was a douche, no doubt about it.
• So, Seven pushed you behind himself, facing your ex with an aggravated glare.
• “I’d appreciate if you backed off MY girlfriend.” Seven growled, while gritting his teeth.
• It wasn’t often you saw Seven so pissed off, considering he was normally more of a jokester.
• Your ex and Seven stared at each other for a moment longer, before your ex nodded in your direction.
• “See you another day, (Y/N).”
• As soon as he left, Seven looked behind him, making sure he was really gone.
• Then, he put on a smile, and began joking/chatting with you as if nothing ever happened.
• He was too busy talking to you, to even notice the guy staring at you from across the restaurant.
• In all honesty, you didn’t notice, either.
• “Haha, I’ll be right back, (Y/N)!! I’m just going to the restroom!”
• Yoosung got up, and made his way to the restroom.
• You pulled out your phone, about to check the messenger..
• When someone sat down at your table.
• “Yoosung! That was fa-”
• It wasn’t Yoosung.
• “(Y/N). Pleasure seeing you here.” Your ex said, with a wink.
• You mentally gagged, giving your ex an awkward smile.
• After a moment of awkward silence, Yoosung walked back out. He put his phone into his pocket, and looked out to see your gorgeous face.
• Well, he wasn’t pleased when he saw his beauty, talking to some hobo looking piece of trash.
• His eye twitched, and he couldn’t help but feel that certain “itchy” ‘sensation’ taking over his body.
• Let me just say
• He may look like a cute snowflake
• But when jealous? SPAWN. OF. S A T A N.
• He walked up to your table, slamming his hand in front of your ex.
• “Excuse me, but you’re in my seat.”
• You ex just brushed him off??
• “I don’t think you heard me. You’re. In. My. Seat.”
• “(Ex’s name)…please, leave..” You quietly muttered.
• Yoosung actually had to use every muscle in his body to stop himself from trying to beat the shit out of your ex.
• Your ex rolled his eyes, sliding out of his seat.
• He didn’t even say anything as he walked away, leaving Yoosung alone with you.
• Yoosung sat back down, feeling relief take over him as he smiled at you.
• “Now..where were we, cutie?” He giggled.
• You were taking Jumin out to look at some of the more “Commoner” style attractions, which was actually a little fascinating to him.
• That is, until your ex decided to come up to you.
• “(Y/N)!! Hey, it’s me! (Ex’s Name)!”
• Even if Jumin didn’t know he was your ex, he still instinctively wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.
• Jumin tends to be pretty possessive, and easily jealous..so, he didn’t like this random ass dude looking you up and down.
• “I would say to take a photo, as it lasts longer..however, you happen to be looking at my girlfriend. I’d greatly appreciate it if you left us alone.” Jumin ‘calmly’ told him.
• Your ex jUST IGNORED HIM?
• “(Y/N), I was wondering if you’d like to hang out with me sometime?”
• You were about to reject, when Jumin grabs your ex by the collar.
• “I don’t think you heard me the first time. (Y/N) is my girlfriend. I don’t like anyone, much less you, looking at her. And we certainly do not have the time to be speaking with an imbecile.”
• By now, your ex is absolutely terrified, as he struggles to get out of Jumin’s grip.
• Jumin lets your ex go, pushing him away from you.
• “Now then. Would you like to continue showing me around, my love?”
• Zen can instantly tell that the guy that kept trying to talk to you was an ex.
• The two of you went out to watch a movie, but it seemed you couldn’t even enjoy that.
• Of course, Zen knew you wouldn’t leave him for your ex.
• I mean, Look at Zen. He’s the image of beauty. He’s practically perfection. There’s no way you’d want to leave him behind for an idiot~
• Still..Zen couldn’t help the pang of jealousy that came to him every time your ex attempted to strike a conversation.
• It was nearing the end of the movie, and Zen had had enough.
• “So, (Y/N), would you like to grab a co-”
• Zen literally dUMPED HIS ENTIRE BAG OF POPCORN ON YOUR EX.
• “We’re trying to watch the movie, okay? Leave my girlfriend and I alone.”
• Despite the whole popcorn thing, Zen seemed to be pretty calm about the whole thing.
• After all, he was yours, and you were his~
• Even when you left the theater, your ex knew not to mess with you and Zen ever again.
• The two of you were going out to rent a movie, so you could just spend the night cuddling with each other, while having entertainment.
• Sadly, one of the workers happened to be your ex girlfriend.
• “(Y/N)? (Y/N)! So good to see you, it’s been so long!!”
• Both you and Jaehee turned around, looking at the stunning female standing in front of you.
• Jaehee instantly felt her heart beat speed up in mild fear, feeling herself become sick to her stomach.
• “Who’s this…?” Jaehee quietly asked you.
• Before you had a chance to answer, your ex spoke up for you.
• “You didn’t know? I’m (Y/N)’s ex girlfriend. ..and you are?”
• Jaehee gulped, feeling every drop of confidence leave her body, as she only continued to stare at your ex.
• “This is Jaehee. My girlfriend. I’m sorry, (Ex’s name), but we really have to go. Nice seeing you.”
• Now, Jaehee knew you meant it in a friendly way, but she still couldn’t help but flinch at you saying 'nice seeing you’.
• When you two got back home, you began watching the film.
• But Jaehee’s thoughts were else where.
• “(Y/N)..do you love me?”
• jAeHEE WTF
• You flinched, before tightening your grip on your beautiful girlfriend.
• “Yes. Absolutely. Why would you even ask me that?”
• “I guess..I just can’t get my mind of of your ex..she was so beautiful..so charming..she seemed to be everything i-”
• You didn’t even want to hear the rest of Jaehee’s nonsense.
• So, you shut her up with a kiss.
• When you pulled away, you placed your forehead on hers, running your fingers in her soft hair.
• “I love you, Jaehee. Only you.”
V: (Wasn’t asked for, but ima do it anyways, lololol.)
• Now, V was always a more gentle, down to earth type of guy.
• So, when the two of you were at the park, you sat down at a bench, just watching your blue haired boyfriend take pictures.
• However, this is when your ex boyfriend decided to come up to you.
• V didn’t really see it at first, since his sight wasn’t in the greatest condition.
• But when he did?
• He didn’t hesitate to stop taking photo’s of the small flower he had found.
• He casually walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you from behind, placing a kiss on your cheek.
• “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you there.. I’m V. (Y/N)’s boyfriend. And you are?”
• He’s actually super polite to your ex?
• Your ex starts getting hella uncomfortable with how “buddy-buddy” V was acting right now. He didn’t even seem mad?
• He didn’t show it, but on the inside..V was a little scared. Scared to lose you. He trusted you, but what if he wasn’t enough? What if you realized that you could do far better than him? He loved you. You were his world, his reason to be happy again. He couldn’t lose you to one of your dick ex’s.
• Your ex just continued to now awkwardly chat with you, as V kept a smile plastered on his face. Every now and then, he would place a delicate kiss to your cheek, forehead, or even the top of your head.
• “God..I can’t even talk to you seriously right now, with him all over you.” Your ex complained.
• “Heh. Well, he is my boyfriend. I like him being 'all over me.’” You said, leaning your head up to give V a small kiss on the chin.
• “..whatever..I’m out.”
• And with that, your ex left.
• “Thank god. I thought he’d never leave.” V laughed, coming over the bench to sit beside you.
• “I know, right? Psh, what a dick.” You agreed, leaning over to V.
• He wrapped an arm around you, enjoying your warmth.
• “I love you, (Y/N).”
• “I love you, too, V.”
Saeran: (Warning: harsh language ahead.)
• It was a chilly day, leaving you and Saeran with no choice but to dress warm, as you decided to go spend a day out with each other.
• Saeran wasn’t really talking much, which surprised you. Because, normally he was quite talkative around you.
• Awkward. But talkative.
• You were just about to ask Saeran if something was wrong, when your douche bag ex came up to you, slapping your ass.
• You felt Saeran’s grip on your hand tighten for a moment, before he just let go, going up to the guy.
• “What the fuck was that?!” Saeran yelled, pinning your ex up to the nearest wall.
• At this point, your ex got a terrified expression on his features, as he tried to get down and out of Saeran’s painfully tight grip on him.
• “Hey, mate! I’m sorry! Is she yours or something? Man, I used to do it all the time when I dated her..I didn’t know, honestly!”
• “You..dated her?!”
• This actually pissed Saeran off even more.
• Without thinking, Saeran knee’s your ex boyfriend in the balls (does he even have any, tho??) about as hard as he could, making your ex gasp out in pain.
• “Saeran! Calm down!” You gasped. (Even tho you secretly enjoyed watching your hot ass boyfriend kick ass.)
• Saeran nodded, releasing him, making him slide onto the ground pitifully.
• “And don’t you dare..lay a finger on her ever again.” Saeran growled, before going back over to you.
• Saeran placed his hand in yours, while you couldn’t help but mentally laugh at your ex.
• “Saeran, I love you. And as much as I loved watching all that go down..try not to do it again. I would hate for you to get hurt.” You giggled, making Saeran’s cheeks tint with a light shade of pink.
• “O-Oh. Alright..I Uh- I- love you, too..(Y/N)..”
Developing Your Psychic Abilities by Marlene Marley Pilon
People frequently ask how they can “become psychic” or develop what psychic abilities they have. Here’s the good news: we are ALL already psychic! Some of us are more naturally developed, but each of us can work on developing our psychic abilities further. First here’s a brief explanation of the types of psychic ability:
Clairvoyance (clear-seeing) Having “visions”, seeing images (still or moving) on the inner screen of the mind (eyes can be open or closed). Also includes seeing auras, apparitions, angels, etc. In other words, seeing beyond the physical. The area of the body that receives the psychic impressions for this sense is located in the center of the forehead (the Third Eye). Claircognizance (clear-knowing) Having knowledge of certain situations/people/places without having any information to facilitate such knowing. This can be things of the past, present or future (premonitions). A common statement from people who are strong in this ability is, “I don’t know how I know, I just know.” The location for this sense is on the top of the head (the Crown chakra). Clairaudience (clear-hearing) Hearing voices, music and other sounds that do not have a physical source. This can include hearing voices of those on the “other side” (deceased people), our guardian angels or spirit guides, our higher selves, or God/dess. This can also include hearing voices/music/sounds that are actually echoes of the past - this happens alot in haunted buildings). The locations for this sense are on each side of the head, just above the ears. Clairsentience (clear-feeling or clear-sensing) “Feeling” things about people or situations that we otherwise could not know. People who are strong in this ability often talk about having “gut feelings” about things, and are usually very sensitive to energies and emotions of other people. Negative energies can often cause a wrenching or queasy feeling in the abdominal area. This sense can also warn of problematic upcomings or situations (having a “bad” feeling about something). This sense is located in the solar plexus. Clairalience (clear-smelling) Smelling things that have no physical source. Very common in haunted areas, but can also be an indication that a deceased loved one is with us (i.e. smelling your mother’s favorite flower suddenly while in a closed room during winter). It can be their way of contacting us, letting us know they’re around. Clairhambience (clear-tasting) Tasting things without having eaten them. Most often relates to spirit communication, as with Clairalience.
You have probably already recognized one or two of these traits within yourself. Most people are strong in one or two of these senses, and not so strong in the rest. While you can learn to develop all of these senses, most commonly you’ll end up relying on the one or two you are naturally strongest in. Very often, people say that they don’t seem to have control over these abilities, it just happens “when it wants to”. By working on developing these skills, we make it easier to use them on demand.
Below are some exercises to help you develop your own psychic abilities. Before beginning, sit in a quiet room where you will not be disturbed, and do some slow, deep breathing until you are in a calm, relaxed state. Visualize soothing white light encasing you, infusing you with peace and calm, surrounding you with powerful protection. Empty your mind of all worries and let the white light erase all tension from your body. When you have reached a state of inner calm and relaxation, you are ready to begin. (Note: while working with these areas, you may experience certain sensations such as tingling, warmth, or coolness. This is normal, and it’s okay as long as it isn’t causing you any discomfort. If you feel any tightness or strain, you are focusing too hard. Try to relax your focus a bit.) Clairvoyance Exercises When just beginning to work on developing your clairvoyance, I suggest that you do the exercises with your eyes closed. This will reduce distractions. Once you become more familiar with the third eye, you’ll discover that you can access it easily whether your eyes are open or closed. To begin, close your eyes and see the “inner screen” of your mind. Do you see anything? Sometimes you’ll see moving lights or shapes in the blackness, other times you may not. Stay like this for a moment, paying attention to anything you see. Now shift your focus slightly up, toward the center of your forehead (eyes still closed). Visualize this area of your forehead “opening”, like an expanding circle. You are now accessing the third eye center. Don’t force it or strain too hard, you’ll only end up giving yourself a headache! Just sit quietly, focusing on this area of your inner vision, and notice if you see anything. Don’t be discouraged if you don’t right away. With frequent practice, you will develop. If you are already fairly well developed in clairvoyance, you may see faces, shapes or images without having to wait too long.
Once you begin to develop, you might want to try remote viewing. Sit quietly and visualize a place other than where you are. You might try visualizing your parents’ home, your place of work, or even another room of your house. Shift your focus upward to the third eye area and see if you pick up anything that may be happening in that other place. Make a note of what you see, and then try to verify it and see if you were correct. For example, before going to work, sit quietly and try to “see” what a particular co-worker will be wearing that day. Make a note of any impressions you get. When you get to work, see if you were correct. See if you can tell what’s happening in your best friend’s home at the moment you are remote viewing, then call her/him and ask what they were just doing. I think you may be surprised by how often you will be correct. And of course with frequent practice, you’ll be even better!<p> </p>People who are fairly well developed in clairvoyance may often “see things” out of the corner of their eye. In buildings where there is paranormal activity, this is quite common. You might see streaks or orbs of light, you might see a shadow pass by, or an actual silhouette of a person or animal. But when you turn your head to get a better look, it’s gone. Why is that? Because when you turn to FOCUS on something, your physical eyes assume the majority of the focus. Try a little experiment right now. Look straight ahead at a particular object (the computer screen is fine). Notice that you can see out of the corners of your eyes (this is your peripheral field of vision). Even while keeping your gaze focused straight ahead, you can still see to the right and left. You are more apt to see something non-physical out of the corner of your eye simply because your focus is relaxed in that area. Now try another experiment. Look straight ahead, but relax your entire focus. Let your eyes go slightly “out of focus” so that everything looks kind of blurry or hazy. In this state, your third eye will take over while your physical eyes are resting. Keep doing this and you may start seeing all kinds of things, from apparitions to auras!
Claircognizance Exercises While sitting quietly, close your eyes and focus your attention on the top of your head. Visualize a large funnel or cone above your head, the narrowest point just above your head, extending upward to the widest point, about a foot above your head. Notice any impressions you receive, no matter how faint or unusual they may be. You can do this while thinking about a specific event or situation, and see if you can predict certain things, such as things that might happen to you that day, or perhaps people you will run into unexpectedly. Or you can just do this in a general way, by opening yourself to whatever may come through. It is important to acknowledge what you receive. Don’t just chalk it up to imagination right away. Make a note of what you perceive, no matter how strange or farfetched it might seem at first. With practice you’ll discover your accuracy improving, and likely this ability will begin activating itself without any effort on your part. You’ll be one of those people who say, “I just know.” Clairaudience Exercises Close your eyes to minimize distractions, and focus your attention on the left and right sides of your head, just above your ears. Feel those areas “opening”, like widening circles. Do you hear anything? You might not at first, it may take time and practice. What types of things will you hear, you ask? You might hear voices or muted conversation (often it’s too faint to make out exactly what’s being said), you might hear music (again, it might be faint), or a host of other sounds. Once you begin to develop this sense, don’t be surprised if divine guidance comes in this way! One morning as I was leaving the house, I got into my car and very clearly heard a male voice say, “Don’t speed”. There wasn’t a physical person in the car besides me, so I figured it must be one of my spirit guides speaking. “Okay,” I said, “I won’t speed.” But I was late for an appointment and soon forgot that advice. Once I got on the freeway, I stepped hard on the accelerator. Thankfully I was only going about 10 mph over the speed limit, because as I rounded a bend, there were two police cars parked on the median with radar on! Whoops! They didn’t pull me over though. I was lucky that time, what if there had been an accident waiting for me rather than a potential speeding ticket? Now I make a point to ALWAYS listen to the guidance I receive, whether I hear it, see it, feel it or “know” it! You should do the same. Don’t doubt yourself or ignore what you hear.
Now, when I talk about “hearing” as in clairaudience, it’s not quite the same as hearing with our physical ears. Most often these sounds come through as thoughts. You know that voice you talk to yourself with in your mind? Like when you’re wondering what you need at the grocery store, “Hmm, I’m pretty sure we have enough paper towels at home, but I’m not sure….maybe I should buy some just in case. Oh, and I can’t forget tomatoes…” THAT voice. You’re not actually hearing anything physically, you’re hearing clairaudiently. It’s the same when you hear voices of spirits, spirit guides, angels, and even God/dess. You might hear these things as if it was your own inner voice speaking, or you might hear it in a different voice. Very rarely will the voices be loud and “external”. Usually you hear it quietly inside your own mind. In the case of hauntings, the voices can be loud and sound external. Sometimes it’s so loud they sound like they’re shouting directly into your ear. But even so, it is still clairaudience, since they don’t have vocal cords to speak with. Clairsentience Exercises Close your eyes and focus on your solar plexus (the solar plexus is located between the chest and the navel - in other words, your upper abdomen). Visualize this area opening, like a widening circle. Do you sense anything? If you are alone in the room, you might not. This sense very often picks up vibrations from other people and places. If you’re picking up your own vibes, you likely won’t feel anything noticeable. However, you could try thinking about a certain upcoming event, a potential job or mate while keeping this area open too. Do you get anything then? Pay attention to what you feel when you think about certain things, and note any impressions you get. I learned a long time ago to always pay attention to my gut feelings. The few times I didn’t, I regretted it! My motto since then has been, “When your gut says no, you say no.”
People who are strong in this sense are often referred to as “sensitives” and will frequently have “gut feelings” about certain people and situations. These feelings can be very strong, such as a clenching or wrenching of the abdominal area, or they may be fainter, such as a fluttering, tightening or mildly queasy sensation. Have you ever met someone and taken an instant dislike to them? And if asked to explain your dislike, you could only say, “I don’t know why, I just have a bad feeling about him.” This is clairsentience, and most often these types of gut reactions end up being accurate, even if there isn’t any verifiable information to go along with it at the time.<p> </p>Sensitives often find themselves bombarded by random emotions that are hard to decipher. Crowded public places are especially hard for sensitives, and many of them avoid this type of gathering. Many of these people think something is wrong with them, or that they’re suffering from a phobia of some kind. What’s really happening is that they are picking up the emotions of other people in these crowded places! Below I will offer tips to help with this. Clairalience and Clairhambience Exercises These two senses are harder to develop, and most of us won’t have a need to develop them. They’re more secondary psychic senses, except perhaps for mediums and psychics. If you do wish to develop these senses, begin to develop an awareness of what you are smelling and tasting at any given moment. Pay attention while in meditation to any smells or tastes you get. Can these be explained by anything in the room or perhaps in a nearby room? Could the scent be drifting in from an open window? Pay attention to the smell of a room when you walk into it. Open your mouth slightly, allowing the air to touch your tongue. Most often you will smell and taste things that are going on in the room at that moment. For example, if you do this in a restaurant, you will likely smell food, various perfumes and colognes, or perhaps cigar smoke or cigarette smoke. Are there any other scents you pick up that don’t seem to belong? Like in a restaurant that doesn’t allow smoking, you wouldn’t smell cigar smoke. If you do, think about why. Is there a lounge nearby that people are smoking in? Did the restaurant used to allow smoking and the smell still lingers? If you are at home and you smell something like this, first look around and make sure that no one has indeed been smoking (or if you smell flowers, look around for a possible source of the scent, etc.). Is there a window open? Could the scent be coming from a neighbor’s house? If you can’t find anything, think about family members or friends who this may apply to (deceased or living). Could they be thinking about you or “dropping in” to pay you a visit? In all cases, try to find any logical explanations there might be first. Air fresheners, scented candles, potpourri, old furniture or even nearby houses can often trick us into thinking we’re using our psychic senses when in fact we are not. Triggering Between Psychic Senses Remember that your psychic senses can often work together just as your five physical senses do. I call this “triggering”. For example, when doing spirit communication work, I will most often sense a spirit first, and then I get a mental image of what the spirit “looks like” (or what they looked like in life). I might get a sense of age, hair color, stature or build, clothing or the type of person they are. I might even know certain information about them, such as things they’ve done, their name, etc. In this type of case, what I feel (clairsentience) triggers what I see (clairvoyance), and even what I know (claircognizance). Sometimes I’ll hear something (clairaudience) and get a feeling about it (clairsentience). Or I might suddenly “know” something (claircognizance) and also have a bad “feeling” about it (clairsentience). It takes practice to decipher exactly what you’re seeing, hearing, feeling and knowing. Sometimes you won’t be able to tell what came first, the feeling or the knowing, the hearing or the seeing, the tasting or the smelling. And it doesn’t really matter too much, as long as you’re getting the information you need. In time you’ll begin to gain a better understanding of how your own psychic senses work together. It’s different for everyone, so be patient as you learn to work with these skills.
Trust Your Intuition When you first begin to practice using your psychic senses, you might get impatient with yourself and wonder if you’ll ever get it right. Don’t do that! As with anything else in this life, practice makes perfect! The more you work with these abilities, the better you will be with them. Don’t discount the information you’re getting. If you can verify it, go ahead and check. If not, then just acknowledge that you received it. You never know, it just might end up happening in the future! I find it helpful to jot down any impressions I get in a journal. That way I can go back and check if any of them came true at a later time. You’d be surprised how many things you can predict.
Does this mean that you’ll never be wrong? Of course not! If we were all-seeing and all-knowing, we wouldn’t be human, would we? As much as we work on developing our psychic abilities, there will still be times when we aren’t accurate. That’s okay. Sometimes our imaginations take over, that’s all. With practice you’ll get a lot better at knowing what is a true psychic impression and what is your imagination. Psychic Information in Dreams Can psychic information come in dreams? YES! In fact that’s very common. Remember though that dreams are very often symbolic rather than literal. Just because you dream of someone dying in a car crash doesn’t mean it’s going to happen! The car crash could be symbolic of something else in their lives, or in your life (obstacles, transformation, starting down a new path in life, etc.). It will be tremendously helpful for you to study symbolism and learn what various symbols mean to you. Don’t rely too heavily on “known” symbolic meanings though. It’s a good place to start, but ultimately you should think about what various symbols convey to YOU. Premonitions & Prophetic Dreams - The Darker Side With psychic ability, we often get the “bad” along with the good. When we develop our psychic senses, we are open to receiving all kinds of information, and this can include premonitions of upcoming events. This can be difficult, especially when we sense a loved one’s impending death or illness. Sometimes we can do something about these events, and sometimes we cannot. I wish I could offer more helpful advice about this, but all I can say is, “use your best judgment”. I don’t advise going around spouting off to people that they’re going to die, even if that’s what you’re sensing. This will only frighten them and make them think you’ve lost your mind. Psychic ability is a big responsibility, and we have to use it as such. Here are two good examples:
Several years ago one of my coworkers was talking to me about her son. She was telling me that he’d been sick recently, with a fever, vomiting and extreme fatigue. As she talked, I suddenly had what I call a “psychic flash”, a very quick clairvoyant vision. I saw her son’s circulatory system, all the veins and arteries running through his body. Immediately after that I saw the words, “cancer in the blood”. The vision was there and gone in a millisecond. At this stage of my life, I wasn’t at all sure of my abilities, so I figured it was my morbid imagination taking over and dismissed it from my mind. As the weeks wore on, this coworker kept telling me that her son was still sick and the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. Every single time she spoke to me about her son, I had the same psychic “flash” of his circulatory system, and the words, “cancer in the blood”. And every time I had that flash, I’d berate myself for being morbid and push it out of my mind again. I’m sure you can guess what’s coming next. Exactly five weeks after my first psychic flash of this woman’s son, he was diagnosed with leukemia. I cried for days over that, and felt tremendous guilt. What if, by saying something, I could have given him a head start on treating this disease, five weeks earlier? What if he died, all because I didn’t open my mouth? It took me a long time to get over that, a long time of dealing with “what ifs”. Even though I wish I had given her an inkling of what I was seeing, I still don’t think it would have been wise for me to say, “Oh, it’s cancer in his blood!”. What I could have done though, is say something like, “Have them check his blood, I feel it’s important for them to check his blood.” But it’s too late now. I never did tell my friend about my visions, I couldn’t see how that would help anything. (Note: After his diagnosis, he underwent many months of intense chemotherapy treatments and eventually went into remission. But the last I heard, he had had a recurrence. I’ve since lost touch with his mom, so I don’t know for sure how he is now.)
The other example is quite different. I’m going to keep the details vague because my family doesn’t realize I had this premonition, and I don’t see why they should know about it now. A couple of summers ago, I went to visit some family members. Upon walking into the house, I noticed a brilliant green aura surrounding one of those family members. As I looked at this aura, I had a sense that his time on this earth was growing short, and he wouldn’t be with us too much longer. I had no reason to think this, because he wasn’t sick at all. He was elderly, but in great shape. Like I used to do so often, I just dismissed it from my mind. Four months later he was diagnosed with cancer, and he died a few weeks after that. This situation is very different than the other one, simply because it was this family member’s time to pass on. Nothing I said or did would have made a difference. It was his time to leave this earth, and I picked up on it. End of story.<p> </p>I have often wondered why I’m given information like this, when it’s clear I can do nothing about it. What’s the point? I’ve come to realize that when you’re open psychically, you get whatever there is, the good and the bad. If you refuse to accept the bad, you also shut out the good. When you’re open, you’re open and all you can do is use your best judgment on when to say something about what you sense, and when to keep your mouth shut. Always consider the other person’s feelings about what you might say. Try to help in any way you can, but also realize that they may not want to know. Respect that and accept it. Let go of what you cannot control. Help for Psychically Sensitive Souls As I stated above, sometimes people who are too open psychically can find crowded places extremely painful and uncomfortable. This especially applies to people who are strong in clairsentience, but it pertains to the other senses as well. In these situations, sensitives often feel bombarded with psychic impressions, emotions, thoughts and a flood of information from the people around them and even from the building they are in. There are many methods of reducing this psychic “noise”. Experiment and find which one works best for you. Here are a couple of ideas:
Close the reception areas - above I mentioned where the psychic reception areas are for each psychic sense. If you feel bombarded with unwanted information, focus on “closing” those areas to shut it out. Just like you visualized those areas opening during the exercises, visualize them closing now. You could also visualize a shield of protective energy covering them, blocking out unwanted impressions. You may not need to do this with ALL of the reception areas, especially if you’re only strong in one or two psychic senses. If this applies to you, just focus on closing those that you’re strongest in.<p> </p>“Zip up” a shield of protective energy - visualize a big “pouch” of energy, like a sleeping bag. It can be any color you wish, whatever is most soothing to you. I usually use white, but that’s my preference. Visualize yourself stepping into this pouch of energy, and pulling it up and around you. Pull it all the way over your head so you are completely encased in its protective warmth. Then “zip” it up, just like a sleeping bag. You are now encased in a shield of energy. This works very well and I’ve used it many times myself. Fun Exercises to Develop Your Psychic Abilities Here are some more fun exercises to try, by yourself or with others:
• A good way to test your psychic skill is to have a friend or family member cut out pictures from magazines (or use actual photographs) and seal each one in an envelope (without you watching obviously). Make sure it’s an envelope you can’t see through! If you’re doing this with a friend, have them prepare your pictures, and you prepare theirs. When you’re ready, take one of your envelopes and hold it in your hands. Try to see if you can pick up any information about what’s in the picture. Jot down any impressions you get. Don’t worry about being wrong, and don’t judge or rationalize what you sense. Simply make a note of it. When you don’t feel like you’re getting anything else from the picture in the envelope, open it and see how accurate you were. Don’t be surprised if you pick up a lot of information about the picture without completely describing the whole thing. For example, you might pick up certain colors or objects in the picture, but not all of them. Sometimes you may be totally off and get the whole thing wrong. That’s okay! Keep practicing and you’ll be surprised at how good you can get at this. • Cut out squares of different colored construction paper. Try to stick with the primary colors, such as red, green, blue, yellow, orange, black, etc. Make the squares the same size, 5" x 5" is good. Have a friend blindfold you (make sure you can’t see!) and hand you one sheet of paper at a time. Then try to “feel” what color it is. • Sit back to back with a friend (or you can do this with you and your friend in different locations), and have her think about a very specific item. Have her focus on “sending” you the information psychically, and try to pick up on what she’s thinking. Have a pad and pen with you, and jot down any impressions you receive. • Before going somewhere, try to sense how many people will be there when you arrive, or how many cars will be in the parking lot. (Obviously, you want to do this only with small gatherings, otherwise you’ll be there counting all day!) You could also try to sense how many pieces of mail you will receive that day, or who’s calling on the phone before you pick it up (or even just try to sense if the caller is male or female). Good luck and have fun!
We want things we cannot have. We seek to reclaim a certain moment, sound, sensation. I want to hear my mother’s voice. I want to see my children as children. Hands small, feet swift. Everything changes. Boy grown, father dead, daughter taller than me, weeping from a bad dream. Please stay forever, I say to the things I know. Don’t go. Don’t grow.
If a squip can give controlled shocks like in Jeremy's case, can a squip also cause physical things to happen? Such as the feeling of a hug or even something like tickling?
K: Yes. SQUIPS have full access to the nervous system which allows us to make you feel certain sensations even if it’s not real
K: But, we are limited on information of certain actions so some things may not feel as real and we rely heavily on our hosts memory but even then, it may not be as good as the real thing. I usually only resort to such actions if I know Rich may benefit from it
Note: this is my first little oneshot that I’m throwing out there into the world and I’m not really sure how I feel about it. I just felt like I really needed it out of my system. Basically, the reader has a crush on her professor, Mr. Barba. Also I know nothing about college life so if some parts don’t sound quite right, I apologize!
Life really did love to throw you curve-balls. This was supposed to be just a fun class for you, something you had only signed up for because a) it sounded interesting, b) it only took up a semester, and c) how hard could a class on comparative race and ethnic studies be? Very hard apparently- especially when the professor looked like Mr. Barba.
(A/n): I was supposed to post last night but I fell asleep whoops. Anyways this is a bit, or a lot, influenced by Teen Wolf and VD/The Originals. (However I didn’t watch VD/The Originals thanks wikia, so I might have tweaked stuff or will probably wing it and create random shit)
Also I may have started out with the intention to write in the way that the school is like any other school in Korea or Japan but I unknowingly wrote about a regular American school with different classes to attend instead of just one homeroom and teachers being the ones who have to go from room to room. Whoops.
The mortal world had merged long ago with the supernatural, humans finding a way to coexist with paranormal beings that now walk the same ground they set foot on. No doubt that humans complained about the safety of their kind with deadly monsters about in their world wearing the skin of a normal human being. But it was made a pact that the balance of nature was to be respected and that the supernatural were to not harm a mortal unless under special circumstances that it was under self-defense and vice-versa.
This merge has influenced the structure of society and its inhabitants, living areas and public places segregated with labels that kept out humans or the things they called monsters. However, some places welcomed the coexistence of the supernatural, letting the two races mingle and walk alongside each other.
You were mortal, living in a town near the big city of Seoul that harbored both your kind and the mystical beings. Long since have you been kicked out of your home for reasons unknown to you, forcing you to take your life into your own hands and care for yourself. You’d found a humble home in the attic of a kind old lady, who instructed you to address her as Yahiko or just Auntie. She wasn’t normal, you knew, an odd sensation in your nerves that alerts you of her supernatural powers.
“You’re not human,” you mumbled one day at dinner, and upon realization of what you’d blurted out, you bowed your head respectfully and in apology for your rudeness.
But she just cackled heartily and ladled more soup into your bowl and admitted her true self as a kitsune, explaining how she migrated all the way from Japan and settled down in South Korea with her late husband.
“You may not notice my dear child, but I’m over 900 years old,” she grins, eyes glowing a vibrant orange before fading back to their original brown color.
You didn’t catch how her eyebrows furrowed at you, trying to catch any hint of you being anything not normal. Maybe it was obvious that she wasn’t human when she accidentally tried feeding you pig liver on the first night you stayed there.
Eventually you’d have to start school, a high school where both mystical creatures and humans study.
Yahiko smiled down at you like a mother would at her child, her hands gingerly brushing your hair out of your face. She whispered encouragements along with warnings to keep an eye out for other supernatural creatures, to steer clear of them and find refuge with mortal students.
“I’ll be fine Auntie,” you groan as she pats down on your school uniform worriedly, “You act like you’re sending me to war.”
She flicks you on the forehead with a stern frown before huffing a drawn out sigh, “I’m just worried, okay.”
Before you can take off and begin your commute to school, she seizes you by the wrist and holds out an amulet. The mount is silver, intricately designed with small engravings of a language you don’t understand. Held in the middle is a smooth cut of an amber stone.
She looks at you expectantly, waiting patiently as you gather your hair and push it out of the way for her to wrap around the silver chain and clip the ends together behind your neck.
“There, now go before you’re late!”
As you walk to school, you look down at the amulet that rests on your chest, reaching up to finger the stone that’s set in the center. You don’t know what it is, or the reason she’s giving you such a beautiful gem, but there’s something off about it. Your fingertips resonate with a peculiar sensation as soon as you touch the amulet.
You shrug as you enter through the gates of the school, cautious of those around you with Yahiko’s warning echoing in your ears. There’s a standing corkboard up ahead with a throng of students crowded in front of it, pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of their homeroom.
Not wanting to be jostled around like the poor boy with large circular glasses that’s shoved to the outer rim of the group by a rather tall boy, you stand to the side and wait until the group dies down.
“You’re smart, wouldn’t want to become a rag doll in the middle of that chaos am I right?” a voice pipes up from beside you.
Turning your head, you smile and nod your head at the girl who grins toothily back. Your first thought is to determine whether she’s mortal or not, focusing on any odd sensations you get from her presence. There’s nothing and you’re safe to conclude that she’s normal.
“Hyejin, just an average human if you were wondering,” she says. You take this moment to scan her features, her large brown eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. Her lips are plump and skin rosy, as she offers you a handshake. Taking her hand, you smile and reply with your name in return.
“Well then (Y/n), I hope you’re a first year too, let’s hope for the same homeroom, yeah?”
You both make light small talk, Hyejin complimenting your necklace at some point before you both find out that you are indeed in the same homeroom: class 1B and make your way to the said room.
She probably notices your weariness as soon as you both take seats beside each other, your eyes flitting around the room. The amount of different sensations overwhelm you, only used to being around one aura - Yahiko’s aura. The magical auras differ depending on the creature they are, you assume as you eye one that you believe is a vampire when their eyes flash red and the blue gem on their ring glints under the light of the sun.
“Hey, don’t worry too much about the others, just stick with me and you’ll be just fine!” she chirps, as the teacher begins calling roll before handing out schedules.
“Same classes!” she squealed as you both compared your schedules, “All but one… hm Potions I, that’s cool, I took that last year in middle school - not too fun when all the witches are excelling at it and bragging in your face, it gets really messy too when you have the dark kitsunes misusing the potions or brewing up some kind of weird concoction and tricking the normal kids into drinking it.”
“Yeah I don’t know, I just needed some kind of elective,” you shrug as the bell rings and you both head to your first period class: math.
Along the way as students pass you, there’s a certain sensation that sends your nerves haywire, the feeling overwhelming you more than how you felt back in the classroom. It’s like a tsunami struck you, and the thing was - this was just one aura that you were sensing, not multiple ones, just a singular person was exuberating such a massive amount of magical power.
“What the hell?” you whisper as it begins to fade, the person having walked passed you. You wonder how can just one person be able to hold so much power within themselves.
“What’s wrong?” Hyejin asks, noticing your quivering fingers. She takes your hand and hurries you both to your next class, “Did something happen - did someone touch you?!”
You hush her with a look, frowning at her conclusions and scolding her to whisper quietly when others turn their heads to eye you weirdly. You wonder if you should tell her that you can unusually sense the magical power of a supernatural being, it’d be horrible to right off the bat lie to your first friend.
“You’re joking right?” she asks with raised eyebrows, “But you’re human right?”
“Yeah,” you nod in agreement, “I knew you were human when we met this morning because I didn’t feel anything weird from you.”
Hyejin snorts, eyes switching from your lecturing teacher to you, “You sure you’re not some kind of hybrid or something?”
Come lunch, you both reserve for yourselves a seat at a table not too far from the lunch line. Hyejin explains that with the downfall of having to go to school with the supernatural, the ones who have the ability to flash in and out or teleport like to cut in line - usually initiating an argument or worse: a fight. So you both hurry into line, ignoring the side of the menu that described unusual meals that didn’t sit in your stomach well: pork blood and pig liver. After getting a taste of pig liver, Yahiko’s mistake, you can barely look at the words without remembering that night with a gag.
In the middle of your lunch, you pause when you feel that distinct overflow of power. Sitting up straighter than ever, you scan the room, searching for the person that’s caught your senses. That’s when you focus on a tall figure, standing in the lunch line with two other males who are alarmingly good looking. The person you have your eyes on is speaking to the raven-haired boy that stands shorter than him.
The boy has what you assume as ebony colored hair, parted to the side with a few strands falling over his dark eyes. His skin is honey, smooth and free of imperfections in your eyes. He stands tall with confidence, body lean underneath his school uniform missing the issued school blazer and sporting only the white dress shirt and a black tie. He must’ve felt your eyes burning into the side of his head as he turns to scan the cafeteria before landing on you as you quickly look away.
“Who are you staring at?” Hyejin asks curiously, turning her head and squinting at the crowd of students at the lunch line before her eyes widen, “You’re looking at the Bangtan boys huh?”
You furrow your eyebrows at her, “Bangtan? Who are they?”
“Those three boys right over there!” she explains with serious eyes as she jabs her thumb at the trio you had been shamelessly checking out, “Well forget about it, they’re popular and paranormal, there’s four others in the pack but I hear they graduated already. From what I’ve heard the group consists of both werewolves and vampires and even a witch - er well a warlock.”
Your nose wrinkles at the combination of different creatures in the group, wondering how they even got along.
“You’re probably eyeing Jeon Jungkook aren’t you? I graduated from the same middle school as him, he’s a big heartthrob, but also very powerful and dangerous from what I’ve heard - the star student amongst everyone including the mortals here.”
It’s minuscule, but you catch something in her voice, your eyes examining her expression only to find it blank as she continues to eat, “It’s best you stay away from him, he’s not much of a talker either.”
As you attend your remaining classes, you notice that Jungkook is in a few of your classes. It isn’t until your very last period, Potions, do you get closer to the character named Jeon Jungkook.
Your teacher assigns seats right off the bat, putting you at a table with Jungkook. He doesn’t speak to you, maybe offering an awkward smile as you take your seat and drown out all voices around you to doze off.
His presence is bothering you, you admit.
Nothing big happens until your pencil decides to roll off the table and land in between your stools. You bend down to reach for it when his fingers brush against yours as he does the same. Your nerves run crazy on the spot he just barely grazed, your hand retracting instantly as he picks up your pencil and hands it to you.
“Th-thanks..” you mumble thoughtfully, squinting your eyes at your lab partner for the next semester or so.
Surely, Jungkook has piqued your interest now if not back at lunch. You want to know what he is, what makes him exuberate such an amount of power, what makes Hyejin say that he’s so dangerous. You want to know him.
(Disclaimer: This post may cause hallucinations and you to pass out for a few minutes, read at your own risk)
(Instructions: Set an alarm to ring after 20 minutes)
Hypnosis is quite an interesting subject. How someone’s words, Someone’s voice. Can make you believe or feel certain sensations. How those words, can make you believe things that don’t exist, things you’re only imaging.
But that’s part of it’s beauty, how you can use it.
How you can use it to experience new things.
How you can experience in a safe, controlled environment.
How just by reading
Just by following those words
You can feel
You can sense
Whatever is being told to you
You can focus on those words
Feel what you’re reading
Feel it becoming true
That’s the whole idea
To be able to experience those dreams
In a safe
You find as you read
There’s this smell
There’s a smell in the air
You really like that smell
It’s your favorite smell
Your favorite smell in the world
You take a deep breath in
Really liking that smell
But as soon as you do
You feel yourself becoming light headed
You feel yourself feeling light
Really liking how that felt
Realizing the smell is all over the room now
As you continue to read
Read my words
Feeling more light
More light headed
As you start getting sleepy
Getting sleepier and sleepier
With each breath you take
You don’t want to stop
You’re really enjoying it
Realizing that if you contnue
You’ll soon drop
get knocked out
But you know this is a safe, secure environment
It will only be for a few minutes
So it’s alright
Let yourself go
Breath in deep
Enjoy it to the fullest
As you feel even more sleepy
So light headed
Waiting for me to let you go
Knowing that once that happens you’ll drop
just for a few minutes
Knowing this is all safe
Because as soon as the alarm rings you’ll wake up
wake up completely
Remembering what happened
Enjoying what happened
How you could smell it.
How each breath made you lighter
How you just wanted to keep on breathing
Until you feel
As soon as you wake up you’ll feel refresh
Happy and wonderful
No longer smelling that smell
Wanting to reblog and describe the experience to me and everyone else
Warnings: Unprotected smut (wrap it up, guys), explicit language
Word Count: 3230
Light footsteps echoed off the stone walls of the hallway as you made your way through Hell. Ha, taking a stroll through Hell. Your life still amused you in the most crudest of ways. Demons brushed past you, giving you looks and sometimes glares, their behavior uneffective to you. They weren’t too happy about a human stumbling around their home, touching things that they had no access to. They were just jealous. You had a VIP pass down here ever since you and the King of Hell became a thing. It took you both by surprise, but that’s a whole other story.
“Filthy meat suit,” one demon spat as he passed, black eyes flashing angrily at you.
“Oh, eat me, you black-eyed bitch,” you retorted with a roll of your eyes. Like you hadn’t heard that one before. You looked him right in the eyes and silently dared him to make a move on you, to merely touch you because you knew Crowley would be on him in an instant.
The demon scowled, aware of the stressed punishment for messing with you. He dropped his eyes and eventually moved on, muttering obscenities under his breath.
You smirked and continued on your way, looking for a specific room. Crowley was due for an important business meeting soon, but you wanted to visit him real quick. He had been so busy that he hadn’t been able to really see you at all this week. You entered the last door on the right and quietly observed the room. You instantly spotted the King at the back of the room pouring his favorite drink, his back turned to you. With a smile, you padded towards him, keeping your steps light and silent. Hunting with the Winchesters had really sharpened your movements. When you were close enough, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, embracing him gently to not alarm him too much. You really didn’t feel like getting jabbed with an angel blade today.
Crowley grinned at your touch, immediately setting down his drink and placing his hands on your wrists. “Hello, love,” he greeted you softly, rubbing gentle circles on your skin with his thumbs.
“Now what’s a pretty girl like you doing wearing green?” The brunette in front of me questions, her eyebrows raised curiously. I shrug nonchalantly, sipping at the beer in my solo cup. Taking a once over, I immediately deemed her as hot, hot, hot, and way out of my league.
“Boys don’t really take much notice to me, I guess.” I answer meekly in reply. I watch as the stranger’s eyes light up, as if she’s found an in to something I didn’t know was there. Something that captured her attention, and I doubt it’d been me. She’s probably being a social butterfly.
“Maybe you’ll do better with girls?” She continues, a hand trailing down my arm gently. My skin felt her trail of fire, tingling even after her hand had dropped back down to her side. She batted her eyelashes at me, head tilting to the side a bit as her curls came down in a luscious little waterfall over her shoulder.
I laughed in answer, shaking my head. “I’ve never really been with one.” I admit, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. I’d wanted to, and I still do, I’d just never really taken the time to go after one.
“Maybe.. maybe I can fix that for you?” Her tone’s dropped the slightest, sultrier, a decibel lower; requiring me to lean into her, capture the sound of her voice. My eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up to the sky to see if she was actually serious. She shrugged much like I had earlier, as if brushing off my initial shock.
“My name’s Chloe, by the way.” She added as an afterthought,extending a hand out to me; inviting me into her world of college experimentation and the beginning of a story I’d want to tell for the rest of my life. I nodded my head in agreement finally, slipping my palm into her and setting my drink on a nearby stand as she pulled me forward, up the stairs of the crowded frat house and into the first open room. The door slammed shut behind us and I could hear the lock clicking.
I looked around at the surprisingly neat space as she guided me towards the bed, shoving me enough to have my back land on the bed, her body soon crawling on top of mine.
“So what’s hotter, fucking a girl for the first time, or fucking a super cute stranger?” She murmurs playfully as our lips collide, hands instantly finding themselves in hair and hips grinding into one another. There was a certain urgency to the both of us, a certain fire that left us needing and full of passion for two people who had no clue of each other before this night.
“Both are pretty equal.” I murmur as her lips find my neck, a moan falling from me. Despite knowing we were in a public place in a sense, neither of us were quiet on our pleasure. Her hands groped at my tits through my shirt while mine found the hem of hers, tugging it off her body. I could see her tits practically spilling out of her push up bra, eagerly unhooking it and tossing it off a second after. I lifted my head up, taking a nipple in my mouth; my tongue rolling over it until it hardened under my slick mouth and repeating with the other.
“Sure you never fucked a girl before?” She laughed breathlessly, arching her back into my mouth eagerly. Her moans were loud and unabashed, a little overdone but still hot nonetheless. I ran my tongue between the crevice of her tits, switching positions swiftly so she was on her back.
“You’ve heard the rumors; girls are natural pussy pleasures.” I taunt in reply, trailing kisses down her smooth stomach and yanking her skirt down her pants. I was met with a lacy red thong and a soaking wet patch in all its glory sitting right in the center. I chuckle, running my fingers along the little spot, applying minimal pressure as my teeth sank into my bottom lip. I’d imagined fucking a girl one too many times before while I fucked myself, so I was really pulling all of my moves from the back of my mind.
“You’re pretty fucking wet.” I murmur appreciatively, rubbing her cunt through the thong continuously, keeping a constant waterfall of moans falling from her lips. I slid the underwear off her legs and tossed it aside, leaning in and inhaling her sweet scent. My mouth watered at the sight of her pretty little cunt, cum glistening off her slick folds like a shiny cartoon smile. My lips pressed against the very end of her thigh, right where her knee started, and I trailed feathery kisses closer and closer to her slick little core.
“Fuck, don’t tease me.” She cried out, spreading her legs even further, dying for my mouth where I wanted it most. But I wasn’t about to give it all away instantly. I wanted this to be one of the best firsts of my life. I repeated the kisses with her other leg, my hot breath finally hitting her hot core. I spread her pussy lips apart, giving myself the perfect view of her hole, the one I was planning on stretching out like I’d done myself so many times before.
I blew slightly running my fingers along her slick folds.
“You want me to fuck you, Chloe?” I asked, circling her hole teasingly. Her hips bucked up in attempt to get them in, and almost succeeded until I pulled away, looking up at her through her legs.
“Uh, uh. Answer my question.” She groans as I press her hips down with one hand, bringing my fingers back; ready to dip them into the destination once she gave the go I wanted her to give.
“God, yes, I want you to fuck me, I want you to stretch out my cunt, suck on my clit, fuck me until my legs shake, whatever the fuck, just make me fucking cum!” She cried out, an urgency in her tone. I chuckle, finally slipping two fingers into her. I instantly felt her walls clench around my fingers, a loud string of curse words falling from her lips at the initial movement.
I let her accommodate to my fingers before I began to pump in and out of her at a steady rhythm, watching her reaction. Normally, when I was fucking myself, I started slow and worked up to fast, switching between the two to create a mixture of sensations. She moaned, playing with her tits; rolling the nubs between her fingers.
I lowered my mouth onto her clit, initially sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves to work her up. She rolled her hips into my mouth, enjoying the certain sensations that came with this. Eventually, I began to spell the alphabet on it, noticing which laters made her moan the loudest and repeating those.
My fingers began to pump in and out of her faster and faster, feeling her clench around my fingers as I eventually worked up to pounding her tight little cunt. I added a third as well, feeling as though she was ready for the extra stretch.
“Fuck, fuck, curl your fingers up, it helps.” She cries out as a pointer, and I listen to her suggestion, my fingers curling inside her to hit a spongey patch. She practically screamed at this new pleasure I was bringing her, which I took as a good sign on my part. I began my cycle once more, starting slowly and working up to that fast pace, the three fingers and newly learned technique soon working its magic on her.
Chloe came with a cry, her back arching off the bed as her juices spilled all over my fingers, sweet in taste as I lapped them all up eagerly. I pumped into her throughout her orgasm, pulling out once her body collapsed and she tried to regain her breath, her chest rising and falling at an erratic pace. I sucked off what was left on my fingers and looked at her, unbuttoning my own jeans.
“I don’t think this will be my last experience with a girl.” I murmur before slipping my jeans of my legs and tossing them off, Chloe sitting up and ready to return the favor almost seconds later.
Chapter 175: I ONLY WANT to TOUCH YOU and FEEL the LINGERING SWEETNESS
Note: NO SPOILERS PLEASE, in the comments or anywhere on this account. We have not finished reading the novel. No copy/paste and all that other shenanigans either. Vote/likes/comments are highly appreciated. (◎ヮ◎)
Translator: Sae Editor: Alecvise
Hi everyone! We’re back after the week away. There’s not much to say besides, “Don’t lose too much blood.”~ It was really hard translating this while maintaining a straight face, especially when it seemed endless. =.= Hope you get through it safely. *rolls back to reality*
Cuddle Puddle ~ Stiles Stilinski x Reader (ft. the rest of the pack)
Senior year is supposed to be the most rewarding year of high school. It’s a time for making memories and cherishing the last of everything high school has to offer. It’s for going on wild adventures with friends at two in the morning even though you have a paper due tomorrow in the first class of the day. It’s about going to dances with your friends and skipping out early to eat at a fast food place in your fancy outfits. But so far Senior year has just been a whole bunch of bullshit and disappointment with guest appearances by lack of communication and broken trust.
She sighs heavily as the front door falls shut behind her. The pack will be over soon for the reinstated pack meeting, but at the moment the only thing she’s up for is a nap.
Things are slowly being put back together, piece by piece. It’s a process, but at least everyone is speaking to each other again. After all the events were clarified and truths were brought to light, they began to start acting like friends again. It hasn’t been easy, but they’re getting there.
As badly as she wants to head upstairs for her bed that’s beckoning with its promises of soft refuge, it’s best to stay downstairs and wait out the time by watching TV before everyone arrives. Instead she notices how exceptionally plush the carpet in the living room is looking.
Without it being a conscious decision, she finds herself with her stomach pressed against the floor, her head turned to the side and resting on her arms. She breathes out in contentment. This is how she prefers to spend her time after school.
Right as her eyes begin to flutter shut, the front door swings open and then closes, the presence of another person obvious as they make an egregious amount of noise.
“Babe?” Stiles calls out, his eyebrows knitting together. He is equal parts confused and panicked by his absent girlfriend. Recent events have made him more paranoid than usual.
“Over here,” she mumbles, not bothering to sit up. She is committed to her spot on the floor. There’s no going back now.
He lets out a sigh of relief followed by a melody of laughter as he spots her sprawled out on the carpet. “What are you doing?”
She smiles at the sound of him laughing and the sight of him grinning. It’s been awhile since he had an expression that varied from a grimace or sullen frown. The past year has been a trying time that’s beaten them all down, and it’s gotten to the point where laughter and a smile is a small but important victory.
“Relaxing,” she giggles, “Lay down with me.”
“I could use a good cuddle,” he decides, crawling to the floor and flipping over onto his back. She wiggles closer to him and rests her head on his chest with her arm stretched to the other side. He places his arm to cradle her back with the other arm on top of hers.
“This is nice,” she breathes, molding into his side. This is the first time in over a year she’s felt genuinely safe. Who knew that in a world of monsters and manipulators all it would take to feel secure is lying on the living room floor in the arms of her boyfriend.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for keeping secrets.”
“I’m right here,” she replies, nudging his knee with hers. “We all screwed up. You can’t carry the guilt on your own. It’s our burden to bear together.”
“Thank you,” he kisses the top of her head softly. Her hair smells like wildflower. She must’ve gone back to using the shampoo she used sophomore year. It reminds him of a time when everything was new; Peter was the big bad, Scott’s eyes were yellow, Jackson was the biggest douche to walk the halls of Beacon Hills High, and he had a buzzcut that was probably less flattering in retrospect than he may have originally thought.
“For what?” she asks quizzically. Stiles has a habit of being exceptionally introspective.
“For being you.”
“That’s cheesy, Stilinski,” she laughs, looking up at him.
“Oh shut up, you find it endearing,” he chuckles back, pinching her side.
“Mhmm,” she hums, lightly pulling at the fabric of his shirt absentmindedly.
The front door opens again. Neither of them bother to get up to see who it is. This person is quieter and a lot more considerate than Stiles had been when he entered the room.
“Hello?” Scott calls, looking around for a sign of life.
“We’re down here,” Stiles answers.
Scott’s eyes widen as he begins to wonder if he should have knocked before entering.
“Oh my god no,” Stiles understands what Scott’s silence implies, “Just c’mere.”
Scott moves around the couch cautiously, he doesn’t smell anything suspicious, but he doesn’t really feel like risking it.
“What’re you doing and can I join?” Scott laughs as he looks down at the two of them intertwined on the floor. Since it’s all innocent he sees no harm in wiggling his way in.
“The more the merrier,” she chimes in, motioning with her leg for Scott to join them.
“Bring it in, Scotty,” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at his best friend. Scott lowers himself to their level and lays perpendicular with his head resting a few inches above Stiles’s belly button. Stiles moves his one arm to drape it across Scott’s collarbones.
“When’s Kira coming back?” she asks. She misses the kitsune.
“Next week,” Scott beams. They’ve all been in contact with Kira via text message, phone calls, and face-timing, but nothing beats face-to-face, in person contact. It’s a shame Kira can’t be here for this, she would’ve enjoyed seeing them like this.
Once again the front door swings open, but this time three people shuffle in and look around the room with confused expressions. Liam looks at Malia who looks at Lydia who shrugs.
“Where are you guys?” Lydia asks, her ears straining for any indication of their location.
“Laying on the floor,” Scott responds.
Liam’s cheeks heat up, his mind falling right into the gutter.
“It’s completely innocent,” she interjects, sensing the weird vibe in the air.
Liam sighs in relief, being the first one to move around the couch with Lydia and Malia right on his heels. They stare at their three friends on the floor with a wondering expression of how and why they got like that.
“Why…?” Malia wonders aloud. This behavior is odd to say the least. That’s what she thinks anyway.
“Because we need it,” Scott explains, “After everything, maybe its best for all of us to just lie here together.”
Liam nods, sinking to his knees to crawl into the mess of limbs. He finds a spot with his head resting on Scott’s mid chest section and his legs stretched out across Stiles’s. The beginning of this year has been especially difficult for the beta. He still feels guilty whenever he looks at Scott and he can’t look the rest of the pack members in the eye, especially not Stiles. He knows how irate he would be if someone tried to hurt Mason, let alone kill him. He can’t shake the feeling that he’s walking on eggshells with all of them.
“Find a comfy spot, baby wolf?” Stiles asks, a friendly tone shaping his voice. He knows how hard everything has been for Liam, and even though what he did was awful beyond words, Stiles knows how it is to royally screw up. Everyone deserves a little forgiveness.
“Yeah,” Liam smiles a little bit. It’s not an ear-splitting grin, but it’s an improvement. One step at a time.
“All right, I’m coming in,” Malia announces, moving in to spoon Stiles’s girlfriend. Stiles slides his arm up to rest around her shoulders so Malia can wrap around her arms around her waist.
“Is there enough room for me over there, Scott?” Lydia asks, nodding to his side that Liam isn’t occupying.
“Of course,” Scott jerks his chin, indicating that she should join them. Lydia steps over their bodies carefully, not wanting to stab someone with the heal of her shoe. She curls into Scott’s side, letting him rest his arm across her shoulders with Stiles’s other arm on top of them both.
They lay like this for awhile, no one saying anything. The only thing they hear are the sounds of each others’ heartbeats and shallow breaths. It was a good idea to ditch the regular pack meeting and opt for a cuddle sesh instead.
Cuddling is an intimate thing. There’s something bonding about lying so close to someone and timing your breaths to match theirs. It may even be therapeutic. Maybe cuddling can heal a fractured friendship like a cast heals a broken bone.
Amidst the the pile of limbs there’s a certain sensation that arises from the cuddle puddle in the middle of the living room floor. A sensation that speaks more than any words ever could.
I forgive you. I love you. We’re going to be okay.
Fandom: Batman- All media types, Batman V Superman: Dawn of Justice
Songs that inspired this piece: Give it up- Nathan Sykes ft G-Eazy (🎶🎶)
Summary:It’s been five days since your previous encounter with Bruce Wayne and so far after ignored phone calls, you start to feel like Bruce Wayne has already given up on you.
But when you are prompted to attend a masquerade on behalf of the Daily Planet, an unexpected guess leaves you lost for words again…
Words: ~ 4,650
Note: So after all the feedback from my last piece, I decided to upload the next piece!
It’s been five days exactly since you’ve last seen Bruce. It was just a typical one night stand, but now as you sit here at your office desk, all the little details start to come back.
His touch, his taste, he was everything you never expected a billionaire to be.
Five days ago his lips were pressed against yours. And that tongue. You can remember it now. You can remember the taste of the hint of luxurious expensive champage while it bubbled down your throat. You remember it’s persisten as it mapped out your mouth while you clung to his shoulders in your dazzled state, that rendered you senseless to all but him.
You canstill remember everything about the sex, oh dear god the sex was glorious.
Never in your college days did you ever get anything as spectacular as that. His actions, his movement, every single moment was so effortless and lustful; it comes back so quickly that you can’t help but feel a certain tingle, a sensation that makes you do something you thought yourself to never do; yearn.
You now jump up from your seat, startled to find Perry staring down at you with stern knitted eyebrows. You try your best to suddenly act busy, tapping away at your keyboard and checking your emails.
There is a cough and an awkward gaze between the two of you before Perry finally speaks.
“I must say, Y/N, your last piece about the Gala has been getting good approval, and surprisingly, I’m rather impressed. When there’s a next celebrity event, I want you to attend and dazzle us again with your excellent editorial.”
You are about to gloat or even thank him for the wonderful opportunity before he remarks, “I need your piece on yesterday’s bank robbery on my desk tonight before.”
Before you can protest, saying you have plans, when really you planned to finish your Game of Thrones marathon, he walks away, leaving you back to your abundance of work.
Now staring at your computer screen,You continue to stare at a blank screen. Curse Perry for disturbing your train of seductive thoughts.But, when you come to think of Bruce again, a sudden idea springs to mind.
You pick up your phone and quickly dial the memorised number and with a shaky breath, lift up the phone to your ear.
Thankfully there is a dial, a ring to indicate that the man you can’t stop thinking about is just at the other end. You count in your head to ten backwards and even in French just before there is a voice.
“Hello?” a voice picks up but not the voice you were expecting.
Since you can’t simply hang up, you decide to speak to the receiver. “Um, Hello, my name is Y/N and I was inquiring about Mr. Bruce Wayne.”
Suddenly there is a pause, a rather hesitant long pause that could mean so many things.
“I’m sorry miss but I’m afraid he is not here at the moment, would you like me to take a message?”
“No thank you,” you blurt out al too quickly and you immediately hang up.
* * *
Heaving a deep sigh, you click on your mouse to access your emails for what seemed like the hundredth thousandth time in the space of five minutes.
Everyone else had gone home already and initially it had been you who’d been the one to procrastinate and not hand up your article on time, hence the awkward bidding good night to everyone else a few hours ago. Ever since the moment you’ve been left in the office alone, your thoughts have been wandering, not at all focussing on your article.
It has been a while since you’ve heard from Bruce. He could probably be busy, so you tell yourself to be positive. It is better than admitting that you actually miss talking to him or miss him right now. Which is nonsense, it’s not like as if he feels the same way. This man had a lot of other things to care about than think about you.
Another sigh, this one dangerously close to a frustrated groan, falls from your lips as you click your computer mouse once more and spin your office chair around in frustration. Your phone glares at you, taunting you in its pristine black case, wanting you to do the unthinkable.
You press a key and the screen lights up to show that no, you hadn’t missed any incoming texts. The phone is dropped back to the table.
You are everything but a person to demand someone’s attention, especially not of a man like Bruce.
You also aren’t the type of person to feel utter despair and boredom whenever you are alone. You actually enjoy reading a book all curled up in your favorite seat in the living room but lately.. you haven’t felt like yourself.
The more nights you’ve spent thinking about the man who swept you off your feet, the more nights you have trouble sleeping.
Your mind tends to wander to the thought of the billonarie more than you dared to admit.
With a final solution in mind, you finally grab your mobile again and quickly typed out a text to Bruce while your lower lip is between your teeth with anxiousness.
Could you really be so bold and send him a text like this?
Before you can think it over, you quickly hit ‘send’ and release the breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.
Just mere seconds later, your phone starts ringing and your heart leaps in your throat as you see the caller’s ID.
You hadn’t expected him to call back and for a brief second, you worry that he would tell you to grow up and stop bothering him; that he was busy working and couldn’t concentrate with you sending him messages about how much you missed him.
“..hello?” Your voice breaks mid-word and you have to clear your throat as you hastily sit up.
Suddenly there is another voice on the other end, but it’s not the voice you yearned to hear. Again.
“Good evening miss, I am ringing to inform you that believe you have sent a rather inappropriate message to the wrong person.”
Blushing you can’t help but mumble, “Oh I’m so terrible sorry, I didn’t mean to, I swear-”
“The owner of this phone wishes for you to stop calling or else you will face consequences, do I make myself clear?”
You heart sinks as you reply,”Yes sir, I’m terribly sorry for bothering you-” and before you can finish, the receiver briskfully hangs up, leaving you staring at your screen while cursing at the irresistible Bruce Wayne for using you like that.
* * *
It has been two weeks since that awkward humiliation involving a number you were sure was Bruce’s.
The entire office was estastic, it seems an annoyamus invitation had arrived inviting journalists to a ball, but not just any ball, a masquerade ball.
You couldn’t help but feel agitated about the thought of attending such an extravagent event,particularly since the last event you attended had you left rather breathless.
There was no chance you would feel the same way at this one.
“Y/N! I’ve added your name on the list to attend since your last article at a high event was expectional,” Perry announces, hoping you would be pleased.
“Wear a nice dress and have questions prepared and remember, whatever you do, just smile and ask the damn questions!”
You solemnly nod, returning to your work before Perry shouts across the office, “And maybe this time try and have some fun! Talk to a few fine men, or whatever you’re into; I’ll be keeping an eye on you!”
* * *
The ballroom is far too crowded. It’s nearly impossible to get through the groups of people who are talking, laughing, and dancing.
The costumes are vivid bursts of color against the black and white decorations. The invitations had requested that no one wear black or white and it seems that everyone actually listened. The orchestra plays a variety of music that keeps people moving on the dance floor but doesn’t overpower the conversations happening all over.
You are ready to leave at any time soon. You had made certain that Perry had seen you. You actually shared a dance with him and exchanged polite chit chat about the decorations, and you now can escape without being noticed.
Crowds have never been one of your favorite things and it’s boring to wander around alone. It would be different if your date had attended with you. When you’d considered just staying home, Perry encouraged you to go because he wanted everyone to at least make an appearance at such an event like this.
So now you are here alone watching everyone have a good time.What a change from the last event you attended.
The bodice of your dark blue gown is far too low cut in your opinion, and you aren’t very happy with the amount of leg that is flashed whenever you walk.
You had thought it would be a sexy costume without being inappropriate when you had chosen it, but that had been when you had your date wearing his tight breeches and half-laced shirt with a sensual smile on his lips that had led to her being ravaged right there in the dressing room.
If only your date did actually exist.
You scan the room looking for anyone familiar, anyone you can pluck up the courage to interview. Besides from the few minor conversations, no one has truly grasped your full attention, plus it’’s difficult to interview anyone when everyone is wearing a mask, though some people are obvious even with part of their faces covered.
In your case, the silly feathered mask you were handed as you arrived did nothing to hide your hair, which cascades down your back in loose curls that are just a bit too wild to ever be tamed.
“Are you having a good time?”
You instantly jump five metres high, startled by the sudden voice.
The voice is low, husky, and warm against your ear. For a moment, you think you recognise it, but you can’t be certain.
You turn back to see a tall man in a dark suit wearing a black mask that covers most of his complexion. You can make out his wistful enthusiasm as he stares down at you, smiling back with his dark eyes.
“Yes, standing alone, watching people dance is brilliant,” You can’t help but snarl back.
Although the man is trying to be polite, you are honestly not in the mood for small talk.
There is a moment of silence before he says, “Surely a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be here alone.”
You bite your tongue but it comes out all too quickly, “I would have had someone with me if they knew how to actually use a phone.”
You hear a small laugh escape from his lips. “Funny you should have said that, I’ve been too busy with many things; like organising this charity masquerade..’
You stop and stare, your mouth open. Surely it can’t be.
“Surprise!” he flashes his dazzling white teeth.
The way he speaks in that husky tone makes you catch your breath but you’re also surprise by his sudden appearance, and out of all places.
“You got to me kidding me? You do know I rang you countless of times and you never answered, I mean who does that to someone?! You can’t come here and expect me to take off my clothes again-”
“Well that’s not a nice way to treat the man who is raising money for millions of homeless children.”
The voice is a warm breath against your neck as his eyes glare down at you even as he smirks gleefully.
You can’t resist the urge to do something to show your anguish but all you can do is stare at him as the orchestra changes it tune.
He then steps forward and reaches out for your hand.
“Care for a dance?”
“I suppose that I could spare one dance for you.”
You notice him biting his lip as you reach for his hand. “I’d better make it worth your while then.”
He leads you to the center of the room, taking hold of your waist the moment that you turn to face him.
“Are you having a nice time?” you ask politely as you both start to sway to the slow rhythm of the music.
The corners of his mouth tugs upward. “I am now.”
You avert your gaze as your own lips curl into deep bashful smile.
You both dance in silence after that, your bodies edging ever more closer until he’s resisting the urge to press his groin into you.
“Would you like to go somewhere more private?” he suddenly whispers in your ear.
Before you can even accept or decline, he drags you out of the spacious ball room until you both find a room at the end of a corridor that leads to the gardens, dark and empty and unlocked.
Moonlight streams through the large, uncovered windows, and once your eyes adjust to the darkness, you make out the shapes of a couch and several armchairs.
He leads you to the nearest one. “Sit.”
“Are you always this bossy?” you mutter, despite submitting to his demand.
“Only when I know what I want. Also,” he continues, “I’ve heard that some prefer dominant men.”
“And what makes you think I’d prefer that?”
He sits down beside you, chuckling softly when he hisses in response. “Don’t you?”
“So, what it is that you want?” you breathe, recalling your first answer to his original question.
“You.” Your eyes don’t leave his as he leans in, mouths so close that you can both feel each other exhale. He doesn’t make that final move though, and in the next moment you reach in forward to close the gap.
Your lips are soft and moist from your lipstick, and when you moan, he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss as best as he can without your masks getting in the way.
He captures your bottom lip between his, tugging gently before opening again and letting his tongue dive into your mouth. This seems to spur you on, and you start to edge closer to his lap and gyrate, creating a delicious friction against his erection.
He groans when you pull away abruptly. “What are you –”
You bring a finger to his lips. “We’re not supposed to be in here and I don’t think I can do this after the way you treated me.”
You suddenly can’t help but let your hand trail slowly down his neck, then his chest, coming to rest over his knee. “Besides, this isn’t actually the best place, don’t ya think?“
He smirks at you and replies, “Look I’m sorry, I’ve been busy. Let’s just say there’s too many clowns corrupting this city -” he turns to make sure no one is near by, “actually I do know a place we can go,” and he suddenly takes your hand and leads you out the door.
The air is cooler than you expected and you shiver slightly as you adjusts to the difference in temperature. The gardens at the large hotel where the party is being held are massive.
There are labyrinths of hedges, flowers you’ve never seen before, and paths that wind through the area that are completely concealed from view. You have wanted to explore the garden since you arrived but had no intentions to actually do so as you preferred to leave.
Still holding his hand, you follow him throughout a maze of gravel footpaths until you finally reach what seems to be a secret entrance.
You don’t dare say a word to him as he enters a four digit code into the keypad and in a flash, the door opens wide to reveal a large garage with an enture glass ceiling.
You let out a small laugh as you expected something more cosier than sitting inside a car.
“Oh come on,” he jokes, pulling you along. “You said you wanted someplace different.”
This is a side you never thought you would see to Bruce. The man who ignored your calls is suddenly acting like as if he’s been waiting for this moment forever.
He leads you to the passenger side and soon you are both sitting in the car, unable to control yourselves as Bruce takes off both of your masks ever so slowly, keeping his fingers light against your cheek.
He then starts to lace his fingers around the top of your dress, pulling down the zipper gently and slowly.
The bra that you wear is black lace and rich, purple satin, the balconette style making the most of your breasts. What had seemed so pretty and sexy, now feels so slutty and obvious.
“Tell me you didn’t buy this for me,” he demands quietly, staring down at your attire. Slipping a fingertip beneath one strap, he slides the satin from your shoulder and leans in to replace it with the wet warmth of his mouth.
You face flushes with an odd combination of desire and utter embarrassment.
“Don’t flatter yourself, I bought it a year ago,” you say, getting ahold of his face with both hands and tugging his head away so you could look him in the eye.
“I wear it all the time. For all you know, it’s my favourite.”
Bruce doesn’t look one bit convinced.
“You’ve never worn this before, and I know, girls only ever wear their rare attire for events like this,” and while his tone is arrogant, you can see that he knows this sudden whim of the moment decision is to attract him.
“It’s true,” you admit softly, truthfully, giving up and giving in. Grasping his jaw with one hand, you bring his mouth up to yours. “But I’m wearing it now. For you,” you gently whisper into his ear, right before you kiss him.
If he had been guarded before, he has now suddenly become wide open now, devouring your mouth with a fierce, desperate hunger you can’t help but respond to greedily. Both of your teeth clash, lips mashing, heads tilting as tongues wrestle for control.
One kiss bleeds into another and another and another, seamless, unending, gently at times only to intensify with the next slick thrust of tongue.
Part of you is screaming inside, absolutely terrified, panicked by the swell of pure emotion that threatens to overwhelm you. The rest of you is done being scared, too afraid to think of the impossible with this man. You can’t name what you feel for this man but you know it’s there.
You know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you couldn’t handle being separated from Bruce any longer.
Bruce suddenly sinks his teeth into the soft swollen flesh of your lower lip and you whimper into his mouth, needy and soft, every cell in your body crying out for him, ever bit of you needing every last bit of him. Whatever the consequences would be, and there would be plenty, you don’t intend to let him go, not ever again.
“I want to be with you,” you whimper, like you are sharing a secret with him and unexpectedly, the asshole actually laughs.
“No shit”, he chuckles, panting beneath you, hands sliding down to your hips.
It feels like Bruce hasn’t grasped the weight of your words, what you are really telling him but it didn’t matter now. All you care about is this moment between the both of you, right here, right now.
You sit up and shrug the dress shelves from your shoulders and let the material slip down your arms to the floorboard of his car.
Keeping your eyes on his, you reach behind you and unfastened your ridiculous bra.
As soon as the clasp is undone, he has the scrap of satin and lace off your body, tossing it over his shoulder into the front seat.
Your bra could have been hanging from the rear view mirror for all you know but all you care about is the look on his face, love and wonder and a number of emotions reflected in his endless depths of dark eyes. Lust was chief among them at the moment.
Bruce’s hands slide up to your torso toward your bare breasts, moulding and shaping them, and learning the feel of you. You wrap your fingers loosely around his wrists and look on as he petted your flesh, touching you however he wanted. You moan a little when he leans in to plant a kiss between your breasts and nuzzle his face against yours.
Soon he moves position as he sucks in a breath, and you feel a flare of raw desire burn through you again and again, intensifying, burning hotter, brighter.
He now pulls off the dress completely, placing a hand down the back of your leg and the other spread wide between your shoulder blades, holding you firmly as his kisses began trailing down the side of her throat, and your train of thought entirely, just crash and burn.
His kisses move again to the base of your throat and lower to your collar bone.
Lower still, to the v and towards your cleavage again.
Bruce’s groan is deep and low and dirty, totally unexpected from the man she saw at the gala, the sound rumbling through your chest and you ground yourself against him, hard, hips circling gracelessly. In response he bucks up against you, you flinging a leg across his lap.
You kiss him messily, eagerly, you hair falling all around the both of you while his hands explore your bare skin. You both ground against each other, your eyelids fluttering when the unthinkable actually happens.
When he is a deep as he could go, he stares at you.
“Bruce” you whisper, flexing around him. The spell breaks and you move, the grip of his fingers biting into your hips.
You never imagined anything like you. You preferred to picture his long lashes, how sweaty he’d get or how this would even happen. But now staring at him right now, you tremble as he says your name like it is the sweetest prayer he knows.
You collapse in a boneless heap against him and he strokes the length of your back, speaking nonsense in a low murmur as he softened and slips from your body. A moment later, Bruce helps you shift until you are sitting sideways across his lap. You kiss his cheek and tuck your head into the crook of his neck, your eyes drifting shut as arms wound themselves around you.
For a long time, he simply holds you and you simply let him.
“I won’t pretend,” he says suddenly, breaking the silence between you both.
“What?” You crook your head forward.
“I won’t pretend this didn’t happen,” he repeats, fierce and low.
You wish you could both stay there in the back of the car, wrapped around each other. You could watch the moon rise; stare up at the stars with clarity. You wish you could lie together and savour the moment, stretch it out indefinitely, make it last as long as possible.
It isn’t long before you fall asleep in his arms, lulling yourself to the slow rise and fall of his chest. For once you feel safe, knowing that perhaps you finally have the infamous Bruce Wayne under your latch. There was no way he would let go.
Sunrise peaks through the windows and you groggigly anticipate Bruce whispering into your ear, “Morning,” but instead there is nothing.
In fact, the lovely Bruce Wayne has left you alone in his car.
You notice he has placed his tuxedo jacket over your bare shoulders but besides from any other sort of affection, he has left you stranded.
You curse, grabbing your purse and staring at your phone. Dozens of missed calls notifications pop up from Perry but there is one text from an annoyamus number.
“Sorry about the awkward departure, I had a sudden staff meeting to attend to sort out a bunch of clowns who think they are in control of Gotham. Let me know when you’re up. B x”
You stare hard at the screen, especially at the x he left at the end of his message. Although he means well, it would have been nice if he woke you up.
If being with this man involved him running away all the time, then what was the point of falling for someone who intended to break you heart and leave you?
Getting back into your attire, you climb out of the car and walk out of the garage, feeling flustered knowing you were only left with your high heels to wear which aren’t that comfortable to say the least.
Now you worry was a mode of transport. As you had ordered a taxi the previous night, you are now left stranded at a random venue with no way of getting home.
You turn back to the car and open the front door and to your success, there are infact keys left. Surely it wouldn’t be wrong to borrow this car, solely on the purpose that you need a lift home?
Without thinking, you twist the key and reeve the engine, feeling the grip of the steering wheel. You take a deep breath. Surely he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his precious toy?
And besides, this would be another reason for Mr. Bruce Wayne to come back and see you again…
Hey mods and followers, I've been wondering lately if its like a thing to develop sensory sensitivities if you never really had them before, and if that's common? I've definitely gotten a lot more sensitive to certain sounds and tactile sensations that never bothered me before, (and also that seem to be worsening over time in some cases) and wanted to know if many other people share that experience. Thanks!
My own sensory sensitivities seem to fluctuate a bit over time and with my cycle. For a while when I was in high school I couldn’t eat sandwiches for lunch because of the texture of the cheese and lunch meat (I almost never eat sandwiches now and I don’t like most lunch meat anyway). It was worse when I was on my period, too. (And I hated peanut butter so that wasn’t an option either.) I just ate the other stuff in my lunch and dealt with being hungry. Anyway, I’m okay generally with that now, though it’s not my favourite.
But mostly what I’ve noticed is that the more stress I’m under, the harder sensory stuff is to deal with. So something that is normally just mildly irritating becomes a huge deal when I’m stressed out or really anxious. I’d consider that option in particular for your situation.
Why do triple-AAA games such as Overwatch tend to prefer a lottery-based system (ie. loot crates) for cosmetic DLC/micro-transactions as opposed to one in which you can just directly buy the content you want to receive (ie. the systems that Titanfall 2 and League of Legends use)? Do the benefits outweigh the potential media backlash and frustrated feelings from players? Do the % of players buying in each system change? How about the amount of cash spent per player? The frequency of purchases?
So… the answer to all of these questions is, essentially, yes. Randomized booster packs earn way more than purchases a la carte - in fact, they often earn an order of magnitude more than specific item transactions of a comparable price. There’s a weird combination of neurochemistry and cognitive science that explains this phenomenon and most monetization of gaming has moved to take advantage of this, but the overall answer is yes. We sell a lot more to a lot more players this way, and the backlash isn’t actually that big.
The human brain is a funny thing. Inside our heads, we have a bunch of little glands that release specific chemicals that cause certain reactions or sensations… pleasure, fear, alertness, pain, drowsiness, calm, and so on. One such chemical is called dopamine, which triggers the pleasure centers in our brains. When we get a reward we want while we are expecting it, such as finally buying a game we’ve been anticipating, our brains triggers the release of a small amount of dopamine and we feel good. However, if we get a reward while we are not expecting it, like if we catch a home run ball at a baseball game, our brains trigger a large amount of dopamine and we feel great. This is why gamblers feel such a rush when they win, and why finally getting that epic drop from the raid boss makes it all worthwhile. Many players will keep playing or paying in hopes of obtaining that sweet rare thing. This sort of randomized reward distribution is often called a “Skinner Box” after Harvard researcher B.F. Skinner, who studied operant conditioning - how to condition the operator (player) to make a specific choice - and it shows up to some extent in practically all games.
This is why booster packs, random drops, randomly determined pokemon abilities or randomly generated item modifiers as game mechanics are never going away. We, as players and consumers, respond to them in a nearly-visceral manner, and this reaction translates directly to monetization. It might sound callous to say so, but it isn’t possible to have highs without also having lows to compare the highs to. The frustrations are, indeed, frustrating… and this is why we often put in some sort of trading or crafting system as a safety net in order to eventually obtain what you want if the RNG is being unkind. But it’s also a neurochemical source of the rush you feel when you roll the natural twenty and critically hit the dungeon boss to win the fight. Because it’s such a visceral effect, we react this way when there’s money involved as well - the presence of real money just raises the stakes so that the rush is even bigger when we finally get that reward we’ve been craving. It’s also important that we recognize these sort of reward mechanics for what they are, so that we don’t overindulge in them to our own detriment.