#I know life is unfair and acknowledge that I’m the first to do so

[kavehayati]

Truthfully it would be easier if I just isolate myself from everyone simply because after so long of just shoving things down and being told to shove things down and being told to get over it and stop being sensitive I’ve become so much more sensitive after being so unfeeling and it’s ruining everything

Not even having aventurine could fix this 😔🙏 LOLLL

[nezuscribe]

gojo never imagined an arrange marriage with you, but now you’re all he can think about.

he thinks about you when he’s training, when he’s seated at his round table, when he’s in his bed, everywhere, every time, you’re all he can think about.

and you’re oblivious to it.

you heard the gossip everywhere you walked, about the girl gojo was pleading with his family to marry. how much he loved her, how beautiful she was, how much more elegant she was compared to you. you knew you were never his first choice, not even his fifth, but it hurt even more when everybody acknowledged it.

you stopped wearing your wedding ring, started acting like you were just another person there. luckily gojo didn’t seem to be in any hurry about making heirs, so pretending like you two were working things out didn’t even matter anymore.

you find yourself alone most of the time. your maids were kind and patient, but they had so many things to do throughout the day that you felt awful pestering them to walk around the estate with you.

eating dinners with gojo became normal, but most of your other meals were in silence, always feeling like a speck of dust in the large dining hall.

one day when you’re walking around aimlessly you stumble across the training grounds, the open space below you filled with men swinging wooden swords back and forth at each other.

it wasn’t difficult to find your husband, his white hair hard to miss in a crowd of others. he didn’t notice you watching from above, and so you stayed hidden, not knowing if the men were picky with who watched them.

he was swift and agile. everything he did was precise and with meaning. no wonder he was named the best warrior of the north.

you found this to be more entertaining than walking around the gardens for the tenth time or watching the cooks assemble the next meal, so you didn’t even notice how gojo looked up to see you, somehow slipping away without you knowing.

you were in a state of watching but not really thinking, almost jumping out of your skin when you heard his voice behind you.

“didn’t know i had an audience,”

you yelp, flinching as you look behind you to see your husband all sweaty, panting slightly as he moves his hair away from his face. you eye the stairs that led him up here, wondering how you could’ve missed that.

you laugh sheepishly, giving him an apologetic smile as you pick are your nails.

“i’m sorry,” you scratch behind your ears, feeling heat rise to your cheeks under his intense gaze. it’s unfair how pretty somebody can look, especially after training for an hour straight, “i was just walking around and i saw this.”

he waved it off, shaking his head as he leaned his sword on the wall.

“not a problem,” his eyes shine, “i just would’ve tried harder if i knew my wife was watching.”

my wife.

the words fall so smoothly from his lips you wonder how many times he’s said it before. with malice, hatred, necessity?

you smile a little bit, eyes crinkling around the edges as you look away briefly, not noticing the way gojo chased after your cheerful face.

“how’d you get up here? where are your ladies?” he asks suddenly, looking around at the fact that it was just you up here.

“my what?” you say, looking up at him through furrowed brows.

“you know,” he waves his arm around as if that would help, “you’re ladies in waiting,”

you scrunch up your nose a little bit, something he noticed you did when you were confused.

“oh, well, my maids are working right now,” you tell him, noting that he still didn’t look any less confused.

“no, not your maids, your ladies,” he tilts his head to the side, “the girls your family sent them up to help you around.”

you stare at him, unblinking.

“the girls that are your friends, the ones that help accustom you…” gojo trials off when he realizes he’s not getting anywhere with you.

you feel even more embarrassed than when he caught you watching him, hating the way you were clueless at yet another thing in this life that no one explained to you.

“the girls you hang around with?” he finally lands on, hoping this jogs your memory.

you shake your head, eyes wide as you fidget with the fabric of your dress. his eyes fall onto your finger, lingering on the fact that you’re not wearing your ring.

“who do you spend your time with throughout the day?” gojo seems even more lost than you. he’s seen you with…? well surely that one time…?

“by,” you swallow, embarrassed, “by myself. i walk around a lot.” you admit sheepishly.

“your family didn’t send…?” he answers his own question with his silence.

this entire time you’ve been alone?

he opens his mouth to speak but somebody beats him to it.

“satoru! get down here! we’re still not done!” his friends shouts from below, and you look over your shoulder to see all the men staring at the two of you.

gojo stares at you, unblinking.

“i,” he swallows but can’t find any words.

you can’t either.

he leaves you there, running down those stairs as he shouts at the other guys to resume what they were doing. that entire day he was off his balance because he kept looking up to see you there, but you weren’t.

maybe you were just walking around, like you said.

[morphean42]

Rewatching Falsettos I was suddenly struck by an epiphany that I’m sure someone else has had at some point, but I needed to write out. This ending scene from “March of the Falsettos” jumped out at me from the first watching, but even though I recognised the nod to the “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil (and lesser known do no evil)”, I didn’t know what it meant. Today, I tried to piece it together, and I think I’ve gotten it. These poses represent core attributes of the characters, as well as Trina’s view of them, so click the read more to hear the ravings of a mad man wayyyyyy too obsessed with this show

The idea of ‘evil’ to me is very loose. It can represent a lot of things for these characters; their actions towards each other, their character flaws, etc. But, for this analysis, one can replace ‘evil’ with ‘truth’. Each of the characters refuses to see, speak, hear, or ‘do’ the truth (please excuse the lack of grammar for that last one), and that is where the ‘evil’ stems from. Taking into account this is mostly based on Trina’s view of the men, I think ‘truth’ fits in well.

Let’s start with the one who fits in least— Jason. “March of the Falsettos” is a physical manifestation of how Trina views the men in her life (as childish and immature), but some slack is given to her son. He doesn’t sing his lines in falsetto, because we acknowledge he is in fact a child, and has more of an excuse to act as such. So, take his analysis with a grain of salt. The boy has every right to be a little selfish— he’s 10.

So, Jason has his hands over his eyes, representing ‘See No Evil’. This is a direct nod to his character flaw; his view of the world with him at the center. Although his parents are less than good to him, he still sees them through unfair lenses— ‘My mother’s no wife/My father’s no man’. He sings ‘everybody’s yelling and everybody’s ruining it’ in “Everyone Hates His Parents” because he is unhappy with how his Bar Mitzvah is turning out and wants to simply cancel it. He doesn’t have a concept of doing things for other people (again, he’s a child, I’m not blaming him per se), so he is blind to the will of others and refuses to see their side. In addition to this, even when Mendel tells him Whizzer will most likely die, Jason pleads with G-d to save him. He still views himself as the center of his world, thus Mendel’s line ‘Life’s not all about him’.

In addition to this, his ‘See No Evil’ means something when thought about from Trina’s perspective. She thinks her son is blind to the truth of the world, this son who stays inside playing chess alone, this son who ‘seems like an idiot to [Trina]’. She worries Jason will turn out like these other men in her world, blind to everyone but himself.

Now we come to Mendel, who has his hand over his mouth in ‘Speak No Evil’. Mendel’s flaw throughout the show is his refusal to accept the truth of any situation. He tells Jason to ‘feel alright for the rest of your life’ instead of actually trying to help, he is ‘frightened of questions’, he repeats over and over ‘I’ll make you well’ to Whizzer in the hospital. He will never say anything negative, nor will he allow others to do so. Even in the end of the show, he tells Jason they don’t know ‘when or if’ Whizzer will get better— he is still not accepting that it’s a definite thing. He believes that if he and those around him just don’t speak about the real problems, they’ll go away.

Trina’s view on Mendel is complicated here. In the next song she agrees to marry him, of course, and we know she at least likes him (the most of all three adults she knows). She says that Mendel ‘decides the role to assume’. She looks down on the fact that he can’t speak the truth to her, that he’s expecting this happy wife, this perfect new family. He wants her to play along with him and make their home together, even if she sings ‘liking our lives’ instead of loving. Even if he’s better than Marvin ever was, there’s still an element of control here. Mendel wants this family, and he wants them to all pretend nothing is ever wrong again.

Marvin, our titular character, is in the ‘Hear No Evil’ position. This one is fairly straight forward— he wants control and will never listen to the needs of those around him. He can’t hear what they actually need, he simply does what he wants. He also struggles with his masculinity throughout Act 1, his outward misogyny and need for the nuclear family (his treatment of Trina and Whizzer), so he imagines himself at the top of his family system. He will never take any other opinions, or counsel, in his decisions, seeing that as weakness. He’s similar to Jason in this regard, as he only hears what he wants to (like Jason only sees what he wants). He ignores the pain around him to pursue his own desires, he covers his ears and moves on.

Trina, of course, despises Marvin at this point in the show. Her subconscious showing Marvin in ‘Hear No Evil’ can tell us a lot about their relationship, how she was never seen as equal in decisions. Marvin always put her to the side, not listening to her needs, acting without thinking of her.

Whizzer is complicated. I’ve seen people laugh at his pose before, saying we’ve got ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and Gay’, but I think he represents the ‘Do No Evil’. This final character is not often seen with the other three, and can be depicted with arms over the chest or covering the genitals. It wouldn’t make sense to have Whizzer be the outlier (especially because the fourth depiction of evil does exist), so I’m assuming he is supposed to be ‘Do No Evil’.

This fits in well with Whizzer’s flaws throughout the show. He doesn’t accept responsibility for his relationship with Marvin; seen in the lines ‘I’m not responsible’ during “Late For Dinner” or ‘I will not accept blame’ in “Games I Play”. He sleeps around, despite Marvin wanting monogamy, and clearly did not have an issue hooking up with a married man. Whizzer fundamentally doesn’t think his actions have consequences, he believes he has done nothing wrong (he has done no evil). Whizzer also has a hard time admitting to his love for Marvin. He says it ‘depends on the day’, he flat out says ‘no’ when asked if he loves him. He doesn’t want to show his love for fear of being too vulnerable, so he hides and doesn’t do anything about it.

To take this even further, him being ‘Do No Evil’ can represent his later question of ‘why me of all men’ when he is dying. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his death, and ‘all men get what they deserve’, right?

Moving on to how Trina sees Whizzer. He’s come into her life and ruined her marriage, though she ‘wants to hate him’ she can’t. She views him as the cause of her recent hardships, his actions being to blame. He is ‘Do No Evil’ to her because he has done evil in taking Marvin away (though it is obvious Trina is better off because of it). He has upset the careful balance of her world by breaking down the lies of her marriage and exposing the truth— Marvin never loved her, could never love her. She puts him in ‘Do No Evil’ because what he has done is what the rest of the men won’t— see, hear, speak the truth even at the detriment of her family.

Another way to view this is, of course, the fact that ‘Do No Evil’ is rarely seen with the others. Trina is separating Whizzer from the other men, not putting him in the same category as the rest of the ‘family’. He views himself as an outsider as well, yes he’s part of the group, but only as a technicality. Only as Marvin’s lover. Once he leaves Marvin, he is easily taken out of the equation and the remaining three do not feel the loss.

My conclusion is such: Each of the poses our men do represents the character flaw they must overcome throughout the show, as well as how Trina views them in her mind. I really hope this made any sort of sense, and if someone has already said all of this well… I guess it can’t hurt to be thorough.

I’m way too tired to read through this again so if there are spelling mistakes please print out this post, correct it in red pen, and send it to me by carrier pigeon.

[strawberryjimin13]

MIDNIGHT WHISPERS | JEON JUNGKOOK ᯓ★

— Synopsis: On a cold night by the Han River, you confront your deepest despair, only to find solace and hope through the comforting presence of your boyfriend, Jungkook.

— Pairing: Jungkook x reader

— Genre: pure fluff, tiny angst, comfort, drabble, established!relationship

— Warnings: Tiny angst, unhealthy communication with parents, self-doubt, reader being terrible with emotions and opening up :’)

— Word count: 1.4k

— English is not my first language so I apologise in advance for any mistakes or typos!

The leaves shook lightly in the chilly night air. Everything was so quiet and still that it almost felt like time was frozen. Gazing into the sky, standing next to the Han River, you shivered slightly at the unforgiving cold.

“I shouldn’t be out this late,” you thought to yourself. It wasn’t safe to venture out at this hour, and you knew better than anyone the risks of being in an empty place with no one around to hear or see. The world felt cruel and unfair. For a moment, you just wanted to forget everything plaguing your mind. You wanted to forget about the argument you had with your parents, how you felt tired of all your efforts going unappreciated. The only thought in your head was to take a leap into the river and end all your miseries, washing away your existence.

Your hands gripped the railing tightly as you closed your eyes, trying to stop the tears from escaping and taking deep breaths to soothe the burning pain in your throat. “This is so stupid,” you thought again. Deep down, you knew it wasn’t. Years of repressing your emotions had led you to not even acknowledge them anymore, but how long could you keep up that facade? How long until the dam broke, and all hell broke loose?

You sniffled and wiped your eyes before pulling your hoodie sleeves down to warm your hands. It was colder than usual, and you had forgotten how unforgiving the cold air could be. Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you straightened up, deciding to return home for the time being.

As you turned around, a yelp escaped your mouth unconsciously as you saw a hooded figure of a man in a leather jacket walking towards you. Panic set in, and you thought about how this was what you got for being out so late. It was half past one in the morning. You contemplated your next course of action, but before you could do anything, the hooded figure removed the hood, and the biggest sigh of relief escaped you.

You placed a hand over your chest to calm your thrumming heart. “You scared me! Oh my God! I was this close to just jumping into the river, Jungkook!” you yelled.

A little giggle escaped Jungkook. “I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t mean to scare you. It completely slipped my mind how suspicious the hoodie looks,” he said, looking apologetic.

“I just saw my life flash before my eyes,” you replied, for a moment completely forgetting about your previous dilemmas. Jungkook had that effect on you, making all your worries seem insignificant. His silly antics and comforting presence made you feel free of all responsibilities, a feeling you didn’t want to let go of.

“Your mom called me, worried that she couldn’t reach you. I told her you were sleeping at my place to calm her down, but Y/N, you had me worried too… Disappearing this late at night? Are you out of your mind? I’m just glad your location wasn’t turned off so I could find you” Jungkook gently scolded you, his words laced with heavy emotions that let you know he was aware of your inner turmoil.

“Just know that whenever you are ready to open up, I will always be here for you as a boyfriend but more importantly as a friend,” he offered you a small understanding smile. Something in you snapped, and the next thing you knew, you were crying into his chest, gripping his shirt as if he would dissipate into thin air if you let go. Jungkook was shocked at first but didn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around you. It broke his heart to see you in such a state. He knew you as a strong person who always pulled through tough times. He had seen you do it countless times, yet he also understood that everyone has their flaws. For you, it was the struggle with sharing or processing your emotions, often leading to outbursts like this.

Your crying slowed, and eventually, you were barely sniffling. You rested your head against Jungkook’s heart, letting the rhythm calm you down while still holding him in a tight grip. “I feel like a failure,” you whispered so lightly that Jungkook would have missed it if not for the quiet atmosphere.

“Why do you say that?” he replied, swallowing a lump in his throat, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Seeing you in distress made him emotional too, but right now, you needed him.

“I think I disappointed my parents again. I feel like no matter what I do, I just can’t seem to make them happy. They struggled a lot for me, so it makes me feel guilty when I can’t reach their expectations,” you confided in him. Ah, your parents again, Jungkook thought. He understood now why you were more upset than usual. Jungkook thought your parents were lovely, but they were stern with studies and job-related matters, often setting their expectations too high.

Jungkook thought long and hard before concluding. “I… don’t know how to put my thoughts into words,” he started. “However, I think it’s time you prioritize yourself for once,” he continued before pausing. His hand reached out and grabbed your cheek, making you look at him. For a moment, he was mesmerized by you. He brushed back your hair, taking in the sight of your pink ears and nose from the cold, your eyes holding back tears, and your lips bruised from biting them. He broke free from his trance when you tilted your head slightly, questioning his sudden pause.

“I think you should focus on healing yourself and building a healthy relationship with your parents because I know you care about them.” Jungkook finished. For a second, you were taken aback, but you understood his sincere intent. He was right, you thought. You couldn’t keep living in this repetitive cycle, and you couldn’t imagine how tiring it was for Jungkook. Realizing this made you incredibly happy to have someone so patient and loving by your side.

“And don’t forget that I will be by your side through it all. You aren’t alone. We can work on a healthy communication method with your parents. They do care, but they are just as terrible with emotions,” he giggled, making you blush and smack his arm.

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay… I will focus on myself. I want to heal too. Maybe starting with therapy?” you asked, looking at Jungkook.

“Oh yes! That is a wonderful idea! We must start from somewhere, right? I’m glad you’re willing to take the step” he said, beaming with joy. Watching him smile warmed your heart, reaffirming that you were making the right decision.

“I would love that,” you whispered back while laying your head on his chest. You stayed there for a while, basking in your lover's embrace, feeling a calmness wash over you. If you could, you would spend an eternity wrapped up in his warmth.

But alas the moment had to come to an end, as the night got colder, Jungkook decided it was best to return to either one of your apartments. He couldn’t risk you getting sick. You already looked spent emotionally and the last thing he wanted was for you to feel even worse the next day. He slowly and gently pulled your face from his chest and cradled your cheeks in his hands, the signs of your crying were still there in the form of your swollen eyes, but you seemed fine now having let your emotions out.

He leans forward and places the gentlest kiss on your lips, as if anything harder than that would break you and you reciprocate his actions. He pulls away but keeps his forehead on yours, his eyes closed. “We should get home. It’s late and cold and I hate this weather. It makes my nose all stuffy” he says, and a giggle escapes your mouth at his cuteness.

Without saying anything you slide your hand into his giving him the green light to lead the way and as you walked back to Jungkook’s car, you knew that this night, under the chilly sky by the Han River, would be a turning point for the better for the better.

© strawberryjimin13 - all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.

[yoursweetwife]

omg… ur dr ratio idea… i’m eating up that angst,,

just thinking about how it’ll cause a rift in their relationship. he feels so inferior to his lover. to watch someone else (who might not even be trying to pursue knowledge) gain acknowledgment from nous, when all of his life he’s been vying for a place in the genius society, makes him feel so conflicted.

he loves them dearly, but he can’t help what he’s feeling. it’s soul-crushing, and he can no longer look at them the same way. their words of comfort are lost on him when he knows that they’ve got potential to join the genius society.

ooh but what could impact him even more is the fact that his lover refuses. they don’t want to take a part in the genius society. 2 ways:

rejecting because they really aren’t bothered about the pursuit of knowledge, nor are they bothered about nous’ acknowledgment. this infuriates ratio further — they had a chance to meet nous, ask a question, be part of the elites — and yet they refused? he’s baffled, irritated and just heavily conflicted on how to feel about you.

rejecting because they feel it’s unfair to ratio, but perhaps to make a point? they explain to ratio that value in oneself doesn’t need to proved to another, that his knowledge is very much enough and maybe comfort him — show that his achievements have merit, tell him that they don’t care about anyone else’s acknowledgement but his. very fluffy. he can react in either way — touched that his lover would refuse something so great, just for him, or be infuriated and baffled like the idea above.

maybe an argument ensues. and again, that argument could end in two ways, depending if you want it to be angsty or not hehe— dr. ratio is angry at first, but melts into your arms, so surprisingly vulnerable as he tells you of his sorrows and insecurities of not being able to join the society. OR it’s a REALLY big argument… and angst ensues….

anyway yeah, good idea. great idea. i love angst so much.

Yeees Ratio will have mixed emotions after this incident. What do you mean they don't want to join the genius society? This is a unique opportunity that only an idiot would refuse. It seems to me that he really believed then that the genius Society was something wonderful that only the best deserved.

The moment Ratio learns of [name]'s decision to refuse the invitation, he becomes even more disappointed. Even words of love will not calm him down. And because of the accumulated disappointment, he will flare up and a quarrel will begin, several offensive words will fly towards his lover, and before he realizes what he said, [name] leaves him alone. This will increase the distance between them. But Veritas will remain a stubborn jerk who will never be the first to apologize. In the end, everything could turn into a breakup, because [name] will no longer be able to tolerate Ratio’s behavior, which at that moment resembled an offended child.

Or things could end more smoothly. Ratio decides to give in to his feelings, he sees that [name] sincerely loves him, an understanding comes to him, biggest loss for him is not the rejection of the genius society and not how Nous ignores him, but his beloved, who always supported and inspired him. And when Ratio hears that [name] refused his invitation, he will not be able to contain his emotions, leading to a touching moment between the two of them. However, he will be left with a little disappointment and self-doubt, but at least the [name] is there to help him deal with it.

It's quite difficult to choose between these two options, I love angst and fluff omg

[revehae]

two days ago, this blog turned two years old. well, that’s if you ignore the fact that i accidentally deleted my blogs this january. in spite of that, so many of you are still here with me and have been supportive even when i was quite literally losing my marbles. you guys have been patient through my periods of inactivity and reread my fics with the same amount of appreciation for them as you had the first read - if not more. and for that, i say thank you.

but i’m also saying goodbye.

just kidding! i was being serious for too long and so i felt the need to potentially strike some fear into someone’s heart for fun. anywho, no, i’m not actually leaving. not yet, anyway. there is so much more i want to do with this blog and so many ideas i want to share that will most likely carry on to the following year. so yeah, you guys are still stuck with me.

am i taking the two-year anniversary of a mostly k-pop tumblr blog teeming with dark, degenerate fantasies that ought to get me stoned by stubby, hairy ogres way too seriously? perhaps. but i’ll never forget what this blog means to me. i’m in a place now where my trauma is no longer something i feel suffocated by or bound to, but when i created this blog, i admit that there were still large parts of me that felt like i was “broken.” this was only possible because i found safe places where i could acknowledge it without fear of being judged, blamed, or attacked.

i realize not everyone has those places. one of the greatest delights i have is being able to own a blog where people with similar experiences as me are able to confront their pain in a way that makes them feel safe, comfortable, and most importantly, in control.

i went through periods of time where i wouldn’t even leave my room because i was so terrified of being subjected to the same nightmare again. i couldn’t go out in public, because when i did, i was constantly worried that someone was out to give me. this affected my relationships with my friends, family, myself, sex, the world - everything. it is a hell i wouldn’t even wish on Trumpington McDonaldton. or would i? just kidding. not really, considering his track record. but, back to the point, i know what it’s like to live in the dark. i know how unfair it is that someone can swoop in, ruin your life, and never, ever face consequences. meanwhile, you are staring at the consequences of what someone else did every single day. i know what it’s like to blame yourself. i know what it’s like to wish that things were different.

but i also know that as unfair as it is, as painful as it is, and as hard as it may be to accept, no one is going to single-handedly fix you. you have to be your own healer. you have to put the work in to build yourself back up and bounce back stronger than ever. i know firsthand how intimidating that can be, however, in my experience, the first step was not hiding from what i’d gone through. in a way that i originally never thought would be possible, writing and reading noncon fics was one of the most helpful ways of doing that. everything about this blog has been extremely cathartic for me. and the best part about it is that many of you have told me it’s cathartic for you as well, which fills me with a glee words cannot describe.

now, of course, my blog is not limited to Traumatized Individuals who had their brains rewired in the worst way possible via some negative experience - although i doubt you’re not still somehow traumatized if you religiously read my content. if you aren’t a victim of SA, you aren’t going to be crucified for reading noncon. it’s okay. don’t worry. but still, i will always support and stand up for those that are, even if they don’t cope in the same way as me. because not reading is also okay. there are so many different ways to cope with SA; i’m just happy to provide one of them to those that seek it out.

again, thank you all! thank you to those that have been here since the beginning. thank you to those that followed me this week. thank you to those who leave nice messages in my inbox, and reblog, and leave comments. thank you to my dearest sweet mutuals. thank you to those who followed me here from lisired and didn’t unfollow me when you realized i’m a little bit insane. thank you to those that read my fics over and over and never get bored! let’s heal together everyone. but let’s also be depraved and Scare The Hoes. and if you read all of this, i love you and i hope you get everything you ever wanted in life.

- with all of the love in the world, revehae!

[bleue-flora]

I was reading your post and the replies to your post, and I really wanted to say something to the replies

It's NOT a ableist to acknowledge that people's brains work differently and to adapt a different way of speaking as to make it easier for them to understand.

To not account and adapt to someones disability is ableist.

To use an example but switch out to a visible disabled example, wheelchair users. Wheelchair users are as much a person as an able body ones. But the mindset of "they can do anything an able body person can! so we should assume they don't need any aid or else we risk making them feel less" leads to someone building a school only for able body people, which means no ramps for wheelchairs or entryways too small for wheelchairs to fit in. Because the building was not built to help out their disabilities they have to find different and longer paths to get from point A to point B, which means more time and effort spent than an able body schoolmate.

In the effort to not make them feel less, by not accounting for their disability in mind, you actually make their life harder.

To bring it back to autism, to account for their difficulties in understanding is that ramp. To NOT build that ramp and question why they can't go from point A to point B as it is, and then going around saying they must be difficult on purpose... just seems like ableist, right?

"So baby them?" It's not babying someone to find different ways to speak or ways to make them understand. To say there's only one way to make someone understand, and trying different methods means you're babying them, is ableist.

Taking another route to talk doesn't equal talking down to them.

Also Autistic people can be built differently. Just because Autistic Person A understand, doesn't equal Autistic Person B would too. Just because they are under the same disability doesn't mean the effects of that disability is the same. Like how two people can both be Bi, but one is more same-sex leading than the other. Or two People are Italian, but one's Italian American.

Please DO acknowledge and make concessions to other people's needs, because to not aid them and expect them to react normally is the thing that makes lifes more difficult.

[referenced post]

Well said. I saw people saying similar things on Twitter too so I’m glad you took the time to address it in such a well thought out manner. I love your wheelchair example. <3

Yeah, just to reiterate making accommodations or considerations for people with any disability is leveling the playing field, allowing things to be on the same footing. To add a further example to the discussion, in school because of my vision disability (I know not my adhd or autism? lol… yup that diagnosis actually came later but anyways) I got extended time on exams. Some might perceive this as unfair, but it actually just allowed me the needed time to read and comprehend the questions since it just takes me longer to do so. That doesn’t make me any less intelligent or that I need to be babied, I was in the honor society and top of most of my classes in school and up until college I didn’t receive any accommodation for my vision issues as it wasn’t discovered till senior year of high school. When I took the ACT (my 3rd or maybe 4th?) with accommodations for the first time my score when up 10 points, which is huge in a scale where 36 is the ma btw. And it wasn’t that I was any more smart or able to cheat with accommodations therefore made a higher score, no I just was able to actually finish the test like everyone else.

In summary, it’s not about babying someone with disabilities but being considerate to a fellow human being and leveling the playing field so you are on more equal footing. It’s pretty screwed up to punish or scrutinize someone in a wheelchair for being late to class when they had to go around the whole building because there was no ramp at the front. Autism consideration is no different. It’s not ableist to put out some ramps for disabled people it’s just treating them with the respect, kindness, grace and benefit of the doubt they deserve as a fellow human being.

Anyways, I hope that this post will stand, not as an accusation or bashing of anyone but more so educational, because I think the sentiment in general of not wanting to treat people with disabilities in a condescending, demeaning, infantizing, or babying manner is good at heart. That intention is good, it’s just not based in reality. And hopefully, this has helped to provide some insight and perspective to keep in mind in the future.

[butteronabun]

// very, very indulgent !! superhero au below!! ✨

hi so i just watched the new superman trailer and i’m gonna indulge over a superman diluc au now ( BECAUSE I A M HOOKED AND SEATED FOR 2025 )

LIKE i freaking know diluc is so batman coded ?? but imagine a universe where crepus didn’t die and he and his wife raised this clumsy, awkward and innocent diluc ragnvindr with glasses in the countryside ??? and this boy grew up to become a sweet, and chivalrous gentle giant who’s always cautious and CAREFUL over his super abilities because he knows how powerful he is 😍

then, when he gets into the daily planet to work as a journalist ( or in this case, let’s make it the STEAMBIRD LOL ), diluc develops romantic feelings and has the biggest crush on the bold and hardworking adrenaline junkie reporter fmc who can only reach his chest — hhhhh

just frothing at the mouf over the idea of the dedicated fmc talking in front of the lovesick diluc. like yes. talk abt his alter ego more and huh. you seem to really like him. he’s not jealous is he. right? right????

PLUS PLUS PLUS aughhh so weak for superman! diluc carrying the fmc in his arms when he goes out to save her OR post-identity reveal when he finally kisses her on the lips while flying in the air ! 🫶🏻

how hot the range is. diluc’s hair is down btw when he’s just diluc ragnvindr and when he’s superman it’s tied into a ponytail. oh i’m just indulging actually i’m seriously just indulging I’m trying to make this work just so i can ramble abt a superman au GKDHDKDJ

bonus: post-identity reveal where fmc is just flirty and also. shameless because she’s just. touching him everywhere ( his biceps, his chest, his abs ) because she can’t believe how lucky she is, and superman diluc is just. embarrassed LOL

my next idea is a spider-verse au or a spider-man au. roles are reversed, so i’m thinking of a fmc who gets bitten by a radioactive spider, and becomes spider-man at night!

i’m not sure if they will be in high school or college, but the the fmc and diluc know each other from school. they aren’t as close but they do acknowledge that they have different worlds. fmc has a roommate she trusts, while diluc is the handsome and mysterious kid that everyone likes. ig they interacted once and i’m digging into the idea of them being socially awkward ??

like maybe the fmc tries to strike up a conversation with him but diluc’s replies are short and curt because he’s not sure of what to say. maybe he was thinking a lot of things during that time LMAO

anyway, spider-man fmc is chill. she actually likes being spider-man and enjoys her powers! she explores the city and finds it nice that she gains a new purpose in life: saving mondstadt city! she even has her own customized spider-man outfit <3

soooo. the plot then gets exciting when spider-man fmc finally encounters the “darknight hero” she’s been hearing from forums ( BECAUSE IMAGINE IF FMC THINKS THAT SHE HAS A RIVAL / A COMPETITION WHEN IT COMES TO SAVING !!! ) while fighting some crime in the outskirts of the city 🤭

and she likes to think that she has the upper hand over powers when she gets to know that darknight hero is just. well. a rich guy with no powers ( but also and APPARENTLY, physically strong ?? ) oh fmc thinks this is unfair

these two heroes become a lil hostile at each other at first because, well, strangers ( comically, imagine spider-man fmc telling the darknight hero that she can rescue that kitten, but said darknight hero beats her to it first and they argue like little children / IMAGE: it’s just fmc whining and the darknight hero listening amusingly — which he will not admit btw — ), until they team up sometime in the future when they understand that they share the same goal: getting rid of the evil that plagues their city!

i think it’s just sweet that they’re comfortable in their alter egos 🫶🏻

also what if someone gets hurt… Gnhdjhdk maybe spider-man fmc perhaps??? and she’s just… being cradled in his arms???? and the darknight hero is just so, so worried and also a little upset because why did you do that. he can protect himself. so why did you shield yourself for me.

and fmc says the classic thing - “it’s because i care for you, you dummy,” and also because she’s a damn superhero!!!! and you know where it’ll lead there - the beginning of their stupid and slow burn romance

[darkstarofchaos]

your in-depth explanations of prowl (they're amazing!! i always reread them!!) are the reason i’ve recently become so hooked on him 😭. i get why he isn’t a fan favorite. still, something i’ve noticed when reading posts here and there is how, every time someone shows sympathy for prowl’s trauma, expresses sadness over the unfairness of how he’s been treated, or just shows any support for him at all, there’s always that crowd chiming in with “he deserved it,” “it’s karma,” “he’s an asshole,” or mocking the fact that he got brutally beaten so many times. it’s honestly so distasteful because it feels like you’re not even allowed to acknowledge that prowl was a victim too. yeah, he did terrible things—but so did a lot of other characters, and somehow the fandom bends over backward to justify their actions. meanwhile, prowl gets this constant wave of vitriol. i’m genuinely shocked that y’all can still enjoy his character despite all the hate. i’m not exaggerating—just the other day, i saw an artist on twitter talking about how sad it is that prowl’s trauma is always glossed over. and the comments? filled with “um actually he deserved it☝️🤓” (but you would never see shit like that under posts being so sympathetic to megatron the great genocidal warlord). the fact that the artist even tried to explain their point, it must be so exhausting to deal with that over and over. i don’t know how you guys put up with this shit, lmao. more power to you because i’d be losing my mind.

Oh wow! I'm honored to have been instrumental to your falling for Prowl. ❤️

Honestly, it's never occurred to me not to enjoy his character. I'm used to falling into the "unpopular opinions" camp in the fandom (case in point, I find Jro's writing to be mediocre, Optimus strikes me as a bit of a jerk in most continuities, and I think G1 OpStar would be really toxic), so as far as I'm concerned, loving a character who gets a lot of hate is just an excuse to talk about him more.

Plus, Prowl fills a badly needed role in the Autobot faction: he's willing to call Optimus out when he's being stupid. That alone endears him to me for life, lol.

(That said, I do actually lose my mind on occasion. I may have gotten a bit upset when EarthSpark Prowl was first leaked and some people were hoping he would be an antagonist. I also occasionally desire to emulate Prowl and flip a table whenever I see someone accuse him of abuse. Followed by the desire to pull out the relevant comics and point out, panel by panel, how his supposed victim was actually the aggressor if not outright abusive themself. A desire I acted on with Mesothulas, but I have so far contained myself with Chromedome. So far).

[lupine-trees]

don’t hold me like you know me

“Oh, golden boy, don’t act like you were kind. You were mine, but you were awful every time.”

[ i’m going to need y’all to forgive me in advance for this one. i saw a beautiful collage earlier using the above lyrics from bleachers’ “merry christmas, please don’t call,” and, well.. here we are. i will say, it’s not all so very bad. i don’t know that it’s a happy end, but there’s a glimmer of something there. cheers! ]

drarry | angst, nonlinear, draco pov | word count: ~2.6k | rating: m | warnings: physical violence, drinking, implied mental health concerns

_ _ _

The streets are sleek with the midwinter showers, and the rain itself should have been an omen: harsh, pelting, unforgiving.

Draco’s coat is drawn tightly around him, hands tucked in the illusory warmth of his pockets. There’s a roast waiting at home (the slow cooker hopefully having worked according to the instructions), and the promise of a hearty meal is the singular motivation that has gotten him through a particularly tedious day at Gringott’s.

His focus had been diverted to this very thought— it’s the only reasonable explanation for why he didn’t see him sooner. Every other near-brush carefully avoided, every pass through the streets of Diagon painfully aware. But the rain and the roast had lulled him, dulled him, and before it can be helped, Potter has careened from the new apothecary and directly into Draco.

Draco is nearly bowled over, his feet almost coming out from beneath him entirely as his heart does a horrible scrabble in his chest. Harry catches him, of course, polite and apologetic, murmuring a quick, “Oh, I’m so—” before catching sight of Draco. His hands, gentle around Draco’s shoulders, snap swiftly away.

“Oh, Dr— uh, Malfoy,” his mouth drawing tight, his jaw a harsh tic. His gaze shifts down the street, back into the shop, then drags over Draco, his hand crumpling around his brown paper parcel as he nods at him sharply, an acknowledgment or a dismissal or something else equally inscrutable. He stalks off down the street.

It’s worse, really, than Draco had imagined it might be, seeing him again, after… well, after. He’d worried of a scene, a shouting match. That he himself would fight, or else that he’d fawn and fumble and fall back in, all forgiven.

This is worse— the sheer nothing of it is worse.

Draco gathers himself, having stood, (how long?) too long on the street, stricken. He collects himself and walks home, where a mediocre roast is waiting.

The worst part, really, is that Draco had noticed the purple rings under his eyes, and known (too knowing) that he must still be sleeping poorly.

. . .

Potter is fucking into him, and Draco can hardly breathe, but really, that seems of little consequence in the context. He heaves a shaky breath as Harry mutters something low in the back of his throat about hating him, and Draco can only snap back, pathetic, “I hated you first.”

The fact that he doesn’t hate him now, that he can’t hate him now, is, too, of little consequence.

Harry had burned into his life like a fire, an ill-fated handjob in a pub loo that transfigured into a flurry of angry letters sent back-and-forth via Owl post, Harry showing up on his stoop, pounding on the door, then the sex, hot and biting, and Draco, the next time, dragging him through the unlocked Floo, and then just not bothering to lock it again after, an unspoken and open invitation frequently used.

A fire, yes, but the fickle sort.

. . .

Gringott’s had a required minimum on the guest list for the annual Wix Wellness Worldwide fundraising gala, and Draco had pulled one of the four short straws. He was doing his level best to blend with the wall furnishings, a firm grasp on the glass of wine he’d been nursing through the night.

Potter was here. He would be, of course, but Draco’s managed to avoid him thus far, his reflexes on high alert.

The unfair thing, though, is that it is exponentially more difficult to avoid someone who is actively looking for you. Draco had caught sight of him at the edge of the dance floor, head swiveling, gaze casting over the crowd, and had shrunk back, ducking behind a particularly ostentatious floral arrangement. Potter, though, had been an excellent Seeker for a number of reasons, and as Draco is slipping around the corner into a nearby enclave, a familiar voice stops him in his tracks.

“Funny seeing you here.”

He’s frozen, a moment, his heart a stammer beneath his suit, before he turns, expression shuttered. Guarded.

“A work engagement, I assure you. I’ll be gone soon.”

Harry’s face is more open, now, than that day on Diagon, something having softened, but he’s being careful, too.

“Not on my account, I hope. It’s a nice party. You should enjoy it.” He raises a glass to Draco, the tiniest smile flickering over his face, before he turns and melts back into the crowd.

Draco is left, again, stricken, again. The emptiness, the pointlessness of the exchange aches and claws at him, cruel perhaps, or at least preposterous, in light of all they had done, what they had been or not-quite been.

He grabs his cloak from the coat room, attendance requirement be damned, and apparates home (where a perfectly fine roast is waiting).

Never mind that he felt some relief (curses) that Harry’s eyes were clearer, his facade better-rested.

. . .

Draco doesn’t mean to be tender, but it’s hard, when Potter is the way he is.

Not always— it’s easy to fight with him when he’s itching for it, up on his high horse and merciless, caustic. Days when the past is closer and crowding, breathing heavy down his neck.

But there are the other moments, fleeting as they may be, when he goes quiet and contemplative, when he seems at ease in Draco’s bed. More at ease, anyway, than anywhere else.

“I wish, sometimes, that things had been different,” Harry murmurs, Draco curled half over him, head resting on his chest.

Draco runs a hand soft across his side, easing. “I know,” he says, feeling buoyed, foolishly, by the thought. Feeling, in turn, sunken.

The wishing, he is quickly reminded, doesn’t make it true. Makes the truth a bitter sort of thing.

“I wish—” Harry shifts from underneath him, drawing away from the covers and up, suddenly pulling on his jeans. He sits on the edge of the bed, turned away from Draco, eyes downcast. “I wish you were someone different.”

“Get out,” Draco snaps, pointless, Harry already making for the Floo, already leaving.

. . .

The bar is crowded and the kind of loud that makes it easier to be out with Blaise and Theo, catching only every other musing.

Draco is two shots and a gin & tonic deep when they spill through the front door, a cacophony all their own, elevating the soundscape. A gaggle of Gryffindors & co., Potter, naturally, at the fringe. Draco works to make his face stay something subtle, composed, and Theo rolls his eyes as Blaise says something unintelligible about ‘all the gin joints in all the world.’

He can’t leave without rousing suspicion, and he can’t stay without losing his mind. So, he orders another round of shots, and Blaise takes one graciously, and Theo takes one carefully, slanting him a glance only a little on the side of concern.

He’s moved to a gin fizz, feeling marginally less on edge, when the warm hand lands on his side, and his whole body goes to ice.

“Hello, stranger,” Harry says warmly, the faint smell of whiskey on his breath, and he slowly pulls his hand away, placing it on the bar to wave down the tender.

Draco’s world is ready to tip sideways, and his friends are on the dance floor, which may as well be a million meters away. He blanches, eyes going wide as he turns towards Harry then takes a shaky step back. He looks good, which is its own little tragedy, making Draco’s heart do a complicated pirouette.

It’s not fair, he thinks lamely, and of course it’s not, but when has it ever been?

“I like this shirt,” Harry says, tugging at the hem, an easy smile on his lips. The fabric is lightweight, a pale blue. “This color always looked nice on you.” Draco makes a mental note to burn it (or else to keep it somewhere safe).

Harry keeps his hands to himself, now, mouthing at the lager the bartender deposits before him. Distance, respectful, Draco supposes, but he still feels the lick of the flames at his heels.

He can’t think of a single thing to say, not anything worth putting into words. His throat feels dry, and he downs his drink.

“Gin?” Harry asks, knowing, preparing to wave the bartender down again.

“No,” Draco answers quickly. “Vodka, actually. And I was just leaving.” He turns, and feels a tug at his shirt again, Harry’s fingers catching.

“Draco, please, I—”

“Don’t,” Draco hisses, and it comes out just as warbly as he feels. “Potter, I’m asking you. Let go.”

Harry releases him, an unhappy look falling over his perfectly-fucking-well-rested eyes.

Draco wades onto the dance floor just long enough to tell his friends goodbye, and as he makes for the door, he does not look back.

At home, he pulls his tupperware from the fridge, picking at the leftovers of yesterday’s roast straight from the container until his stomach ceases its swilling.

. . .

He had gone to Harry’s, that last time, and it had been a mistake.

He’d been living in Grimmauld, then, and the whole place, while never exactly inviting, was even worse for wear. It had been an accident, sort of, that they wound up there— in a rush, convenient, tearing at one another’s clothes in the front hall, leaving a trail up the stairs.

It’s after, when he’s gone to the kitchen for a glass of water, that things fall apart. He can’t find a glass, what for the dirty dishes scattered on every surface, and then realizes after poking through them for one to wash that Harry doesn’t seem to have any glassware at all. He settles on a mug, which he washes with the ratty dishrag behind the sink and then fills from the tap.

Draco can’t seem to help himself, moving through the house in the quiet of night, Harry tucked in bed upstairs. He’s looking for a sign of him anywhere, though, and coming up clueless.

No photos, no trinkets, not even a magnet on the fridge or a jacket hanging in the hall. The bin is full to overflowing, and all of the furniture is old, inherited, ill-used and showing it. His cupboards are near empty, and the bookcases are so covered in dust that it’s evident none of the books within them are his. It’s eerie, a bit, but more than that, Draco simply finds it sad. Lonesome.

Draco’s own flat is nothing to write home about, sure, but it is still, in some way, his. In some way, home.

Grimmauld feels… haunted. Empty.

He pads upstairs, mug in hand, and Harry stirs as he settles back in the bed, resting upright against the pillow.

“Hello, stranger,” Harry mumbles, sleep-and-sex-slurry, rolling to Draco’s side, wrapping an arm around him.

Draco’s fingers go to his hair, curling through it, soothing, too soft for what this is.

“We should go to the grocery in the morning,” he says (softly), and Harry stills then shifts, gaze lifting, squinting up at him.

“What?”

“The grocery. I’m starving, and you’ve got nothing in the fridge. I thought we might make breakfast.”

Harry pulls back, still processing, waking, turning on his side as he fixes Draco with an unreadable look.

“Why?”

Draco, unsettled, works to walk it back, to make light.

“Fuck, Harry, I didn’t think it was a big deal. I just— I thought it couldn’t hurt. We could make some food, do some washing up. You can just say no, God.”

Harry’s brow furrows. “Wash—?” He catches sight of the mug in Draco’s hand, and a flush crawls up his throat. “Why were you in the fucking kitchen?”

Draco feels his jaw set, defensive. “What do you mean, why was I in the kitchen? I was thirsty, I got a drink.” He lifts the mug demonstratively.

Harry sits upright suddenly, rising out of bed. “You should go,” he says, low, a stormy look coming over his eyes, already dark with exhaustion.

Draco freezes, before fury slams into him like a freight train. “What the fuck?” he answers icily, clambering out of the bed. “You’re serious?”

“Yes,” Harry answers, gesturing towards the Floo.

“Why? Over groceries? Grow up,” Draco rumbles.

“I didn’t ask you to go poking around in my shit,” Harry snaps back, moving towards him across the room. “My groceries and my dishes and my life are none of your business.”

“I was trying to help,” Draco snarls, his eyes fierce on Harry’s.

“I didn’t ask for that,” Harry answers, something hot and tremulous snaking into his tone.

He reaches suddenly for Draco’s wrist, snatching it in his hand and turning it upward, the mug slipping from Draco’s grasp with the force, clattering with a crash to the ground. The inky underside of his forearm looks sickly in the dim lamplight, exposed.

“Why would I ever ask you for that?” Harry growls, his fingers digging at the Mark.

His grip is harsh, and Draco grits his teeth against the shock of pain, finding it harder, though, to guard against the jolt that rakes through his heart.

“Let go,” he seethes, and Harry, slowly, releases him, blinking at his own hands as Draco grabs his cloak from the floor.

“Draco,” Harry calls as he moves for the Floo, but he doesn’t stop. He steps through into his own living room, Harry’s voice still ringing behind him.

“Mal—”

He reaches quickly for the mantle, slicing his wand across it to lock it, to cut the connection.

The Floo goes dark.

Draco sinks to his couch, cradles his wrist (tender), and wishes he were anybody else.

. . .

Luna’s hosting the party to celebrate the sighting of pixies in her back garden, a response to her recent research and restorative efforts. Draco has nearly talked himself out of going half a dozen times.

In the end, he goes, swearing a commitment to two hours— no more, no less.

In the end, it wouldn’t have mattered how much time he committed. Any time around Potter now was, well, was… (Devastating. Painful. Unbearable.) Was too much.

Harry is late, which, initially, makes things easier. Draco makes polite conversation with Luna and Padma Patil and Hannah Abbott. They start in on the food, and Draco takes a stroll around the garden, sticking to the well-worn, specifically designated paths Luna has charted through it. He spots no pixies, but the plants throughout are lovely.

He arrives back at the house, and he ought to have been expecting it.

“This roast is really good. Who brought it?” Harry is asking.

“Oh,” Luna says with a smile, catching Draco’s eye as he slips in through the back door. “Draco did.”

Harry turns to him then, eyes wide, before he settles into something softer. “Hi.”

“Hello,” Draco answers, clicking the door shut behind himself.

“Your roast is excellent,” Harry says, casting a careful smile.

“Thank you,” Draco answers. “I’ve been working on the recipe.”

“It’s paid off,” Harry says. He points to the counter. “I brought pigs in blankets, if you’d like any. I’m gonna—” He gestures to the living room, where the rest of the guests have gathered for a presentation Luna’s prepared.

Draco feels a bit unsteady, with the casualness of the conversation, the closeness that hasn’t reached into claustrophobia.

“Sure,” he answers.

Harry tips his drink at him, juice in a compostable paper cup. “It’s good to see you.”

After he goes, Draco settles against the kitchen counter, considers the pigs in blankets.

Serves himself another helping of roast.

[cryscendo]

prompt 17 with hevans? –hevanderson

so i am terribly sorry that this has taken so long to get to you. i had been in a writing lull for awhile and then i had giftober which ate up a huge chunk of like a month and a half. but its here now and i can always count on @hevanderson to request hevans when i need it most <3

i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it!

Pairing: Kurt Hummel/Sam Evans

Rating: G

Word Count: 1812

Prompt: 17 - things you said that i wish you hadn’t

fic can be read below the cut or found on ao3 here <3

“Dude, you really suck at this.”

“Oh, come on, bro, you can’t tell me that was fair!” Finn argued, gesturing towards the screen animatedly. “You can’t trick the player into falling into a trap by putting a treasure there!”

Before Sam could get a response in, Kurt had exited his room and was now leaning over the back of the couch. “Why are you yelling?” He questioned, looking mildly annoyed. To be fair, though, Sam had found that Kurt frequently looked mildly annoyed when it came to Finn.

“‘Cause this game’s unfair!”

“You can’t be mad when you fell for the trap, man,” Sam reasoned. Finn, however, did not seem to share the same opinion.

“Whatever,” Finn sulked, “Game’s dumb anyway.”

Kurt hummed behind them. “Right. Hey, Finn, don’t you have a date with Rachel at 7:30 tonight?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because it’s 7:15 now,” Kurt stated, showing Finn the time on his phone screen. “And I tell you this, not as a stepbrother who loves you, but as someone who doesn’t want to hear Rachel Berry bitch about her love life later.”

“Shit.” Finn stood up immediately, tossing his controller on the couch and grabbing his keys off the counter. “Gotta go. We’ll play more later, ‘kay?”

“Sounds good,” Sam agreed easily. He could see how upsetting Rachel could be a dangerous game. He would certainly not like to be on the receiving end of that tirade. And he also had no doubt in his mind that Kurt would be the first person Rachel would complain to about it.

“Sorry to interrupt your guy-time. I’m sure I impeded on the time-honored tradition of ‘bros before hoes’, but I had to protect my own peace.”

“Nah, you didn’t interrupt anything,” Sam replied in reassurance. He then picked up the controller that Finn tossed down on the couch and shook it a bit. “Wanna play?”

“I don’t really play games,” Kurt confessed, but even then, he rounded the couch so that he could sit down next to Sam. He brought his feet to tuck neatly beneath him as he got comfortable. “It looks hard.”

“It’s not hard, Finn’s just terrible. Here.” Sam handed Kurt the Playstation controller, demonstrating the controls using the controller in his own hands. “X is jump and square is attack,” he explained, showing the different moves on the screen. “Oh, and right trigger is run! You’ll probably want to know that too.”

Kurt hummed in acknowledgement, repeating the moves that Sam was showing him using his own character.

They fell into relative silence after that, only occasionally interrupted when Sam decided to point out a particular feature of the game or when Kurt asked a question. For never having played video games much in his past, Kurt wasn’t half bad. He picked up on the mechanics well enough and he was comparable to Finn (which said something about Finn’s ability to play Rayman Legends).

It was only after several minutes of admittedly rather comfortable silence did Sam finally decide to speak up. “Y’know, I never get to see you ‘round here much anymore. I kinda miss it,” he admitted, still paying attention to the screen.

Sam felt Kurt give him a strange look, but he didn’t take his eyes off the screen to meet it. “What do you mean?” He asked, his character stopping in its tracks as Kurt stopped playing.

Sam gave a shrug, a bit unsure himself why the words were coming out of his mouth suddenly. “Ever since you got that boyfriend, Blaine,” he enunciated a bit cheekily, “you just haven’t spent as much time at home.” Blaine was a nice guy, Sam thought, but he didn’t really know him all that well yet. If anything, Blaine seemed to have trouble integrating himself into McKinley. Sam could relate to that to a certain degree.

Kurt hummed in response. “Relationships make you busy. You of all people should know that,” he acknowledged, clearly making a harmless dig at Sam. He wasn’t wrong, of course. Sam rarely seemed to find himself remaining single for very long at any given point.

“Even too busy for me?” Sam teased, batting his eyes at Kurt before returning his attention to the game. Kurt wasn’t really playing much anymore, but it wasn’t too unlike having to carry Finn through levels so he didn’t really think much of it.

“Too busy for everyone, I’m afraid,” Kurt clarified. The weight of Kurt’s gaze never left him as he continued to navigate through the level. It was starting to feel heavier with each passing moment, but Sam did his best to maintain his easy composure. “Since when did you care so much about that?”

It was then that Sam finally paused the game, setting the controller on the coffee table. When he turned to finally direct his full attention towards Kurt, he noted that his friend’s own controller was also abandoned, left on the couch between them as Kurt instead leaned his arm against the back of the couch so that could prop his head up in his palm.

“I dunno,” Sam admitted, “guess it’s because you’re my friend.”

“Hmm,” was all that Kurt responded with. He looked back towards the television screen, allowing several quiet moments to pass just staring at the game’s pause screen. Sam had just begun to wonder if Kurt was going to say anything more when he finally picked the controller back up. “Go ahead and unpause it.”

Sam did as he was instructed, happily picking up his own controller once again and resuming their game.

Kurt was putting in effort once again. He wasn’t by any means a fantastic player or anything, but he held his own well enough. Even then, though, Sam could sense that something was tugging at Kurt’s focus — like he wanted to say something more but simply couldn’t.

Either that, or he was waiting for Sam to say something instead.

Well, in that case, Sam may as well rip off the bandage.

“Remember when we almost sang a duet together?” He asked suddenly, disrupting the quiet that had fallen between them.

Kurt didn’t respond for some time, the thick silence suddenly uncomfortable. Sam wondered, momentarily, if Kurt just hadn’t heard him. He was about ready to repeat his question once more when Kurt finally spoke up.

“Well, I’d say it’s pretty hard to forget,” he drew out, slowly. “I had a terribly obvious crush on you. It’s embarrassing to think about in retrospect.”

“Nah, don’t say that! It’s super flattering that a gay guy found me attractive.”

Kurt dispelled a soft breath that sounded like it came from a place of mild exasperation. “Thanks, Sam. I’m thrilled to know that my humiliating forwardness came with the added bonus of a boost to your ego.” Sam couldn’t help but grin at Kurt’s words. His friend had such a consistent, natural humor about him. It was easy to see why Blaine was so in love with him. “Finn was probably right about getting me to back out of the duet for you, though — even if I was mad at him at the time.”

Sam shrugged then. “I dunno about that. I kinda wish you hadn’t.”

Kurt’s character went to a complete stop on the screen and Sam could immediately feel the weight of Kurt’s eyes on him. “What do you mean by that?”

Sam went silent then, pretending to focus on collecting in-game treasure, though he would be lying if he tried to say that he was really in tune with what was happening on the screen before him anymore. Kurt must’ve picked up on it as well, for he paused the game for the both of them and set the controller down on the coffee table. “Sam? You can’t just leave me hanging. So come on, what did you mean by that?”

“I mean, I think I would’ve liked to do that duet with you.”

“What about the whole school potentially thinking you were gay? Wasn’t that like, a huge issue?”

“Maybe to Finn, it was. I never cared, personally. I think that it would’ve been cool. Plus there’s like, way bigger issues than two guys singing a duet together. Like, global warming. Or the fact that Terminator: Salvation didn’t feature Arnold Schwarzeneggar, which kinda worries me for the future of the entire franchise.”

That pulled a smile out of Kurt, which Sam always liked to see. Kurt spent a large portion of his time in high school seemingly pretty unhappy. Sam could recognize why, though — what with being the only gay kid in school and dealing with bullies as well always being overlooked in glee club, it made sense that those things would eventually get to Kurt. And it wasn’t really fair, because Kurt was so nice and caring. He didn’t deserve everything that’s happened to him.

“Point is, you didn’t have to ‘set me free’ or whatever it was that you were doing. I agreed to do the duet because I wanted to, y’know? I thought you were talented, that’s all there really was to it.”

Kurt hummed, momentarily averting his gaze as if in thought. Sam had come to realize that Kurt was a thinker. He liked that about him. It was clear that Kurt tried to choose his words carefully rather than just blurt out the first thing that came to mind. Sam should really consider picking up that habit sometime.

Eventually though, Kurt looked back at him, his expression inquisitive. “Where is this all coming from?” He asked.

To that, Sam didn’t have much of an answer. He had wanted to tell Kurt these things for awhile, he figured, but he was largely unsure why it was coming to the surface now.

He could dive deeper, but it would only cause complications. Sam liked Kurt, but he didn’t think it extended anywhere past a friendship. Or perhaps it did. But either way, Sam had never put much thought into his own identity before, and he didn’t think that sitting with Kurt on the couch in front of the Rayman Legends pause screen was the time to finally do so. Kurt had a boyfriend; one that is clearly enamored with him so it was best to stay out of the way of that.

Sam shrugged. “Just something I’ve been thinking about, I guess.”

With that, Sam stood from the sofa to instead crouch down near the Hudson-Hummel’s collection of game consoles. They could talk about that, but not today. Probably not tomorrow either. But someday, surely they would talk about that.

“Let’s play a different game, shall we?” He could feel the strange look that Kurt was giving him, but he ignored it. Instead, Sam sorted through the shelf of games before pulling one from its spot and waved it around a bit. “How do you feel about trying Mario Galaxy?”

[persephoneprice]

lily, please elaborate on your clemmie and lyssie post 😔🙏🏽

i know i did this to myself but i’m actually nervous to write this out because i don’t think anyone is going to agree with me but here i go!

before i start- i do want to clarify that i love both characters and this is in no way me hating on clemmie or implying that lysistrata is perfect! clemmie is miles ahead in terms of being caring versus her peers.

however, i do not see clemensia as a truly good, kind person. (again, this is all my personal interpretation and i could be way off!)

a few things stick out to me about clemensia that make me feel this way (pre-snake bite, obviously! def unfair to hold post snake-bite against her).

the first example is when they are discussing how to force people to watch the games.

clemensia says-

“The real problem is, it’s sickening to watch”

lysistrata says-

“Most of us don’t want to watch other people suffer.”

to me, i see this as lysistrata acknowledging and putting focus on the children suffering- where clemmie focuses mainly on how it makes her feel to watch.

clemensia also talks about her first meeting with reaper-

“Mine wouldn’t speak. Not a word”

not horrible by any means- but it still feels lacking in empathy (and not great that she referred to reaper as ‘hers’).

another example that comes to mind is when clemmie and coriolanus are discussing the games after arachne death and she says this-

“Yes, or make them Avoxes, or something,” said Clemensia. “It’s awful, but not as bad as the arena. I mean, I’d rather be alive without a tongue than dead, wouldn’t you?”

this isn’t a bad thing necessarily! but to me, i see it as misguided and failing to actually put herself in the shoes of these children and sort of failing to have genuine empathy.

another example is regarding iphigenia-

“Clemensia had once told Coriolanus it was the only revenge she could take on her father, but refused to give any more details.”

again, miles ahead of most of her peers because she refused to elaborate further but i believe that exposing that to coriolanus at all was a deeply unkind thing to do.

and then here are some examples where i see lysistrata displaying kindness (though i’m aware that it may be unfair to bring up things lysistrata did during the games bc clem didn’t get the same chance to bond with reaper!)

she makes the effort to help jessup even before he protects her in the bombing-

she’d apparently been working hard to connect with Jessup “I brought you some cream for your neck,”

she is grateful to jessup after he protects her instead of just assuming that her life is worth more. she’s also willing to speak out and tell everyone this despite knowing how people view district citizens.

“She’s going around saying that big, ugly boy from District Twelve protected her by throwing his body over her, but who knows? The Vickers family loves the spotlight.”

it’s also worth noting that coriolanus follows this up by saying he’s never seen a vickers trying to claim the spotlight.

she also says this-

“And who wouldn’t rather be the victor than the defeated?”

“I don’t know that I have much interest in being either,” said Lysistrata.”

which i think is very decent considering she lived through the war just as much as her classmates.

she displays empathy and understanding for dill & reaper when her classmates do not-

“Isn’t he the one who promised to kill all the others?” asked Pup.

“Doesn’t look so tough to me,” said Urban.”

“She’s his district partner,” said Lysistrata. “And she’s almost dead now. Tuberculosis, probably.”

she’s also quick to call out her classmates during the games-

“Like musical chairs,” said Domitia with a pleased look.

“But with people dying,” said Lysistrata.”

when jessup has rabies and is chasing lucy gray-

“If Jessup can’t win, I want Lucy Gray to. That’s what he’d want. And she can’t win if he kills her,” she said. “Which might happen anyway.”

to me, this shows that she has been able to empathize and understand who jessup is as a person.

also while other classmates display anger or frustration at losing the prize she says this-

“Coriolanus could barely hear Lysistrata whisper, “Oh, don’t let him die alone.”

because she cares about jessup. she also sends food to lucy gray directly after that.

and of course there’s this interaction which i think speaks for itself-

“I do.” She took a deep breath. “What I’d like people to know about Jessup is that he was a good person. He threw his body over mine to protect me when the bombs started going off in the arena. It wasn’t even conscious. He did it reflexively. That’s who he was at heart. A protector. I don’t think he would’ve ever won the Games, because he’d have died trying to protect Lucy Gray.”

“Oh, like a dog or something.” Lepidus nodded. “A really good one.”

“No, not like a dog. Like a human being,” said Lysistrata.”

but the fact that she firmly and openly asserted his humanity in front of the entire capitol essentially is massive to me.

and of course there’s the fact that she had been nice to sejanus-

“Snow had invited Festus and Lysistrata to join the party, as they’d liked Sejanus better than most of his classmates and could be counted on to say nice things.”

of course this is all rambling that doesn’t actually answer the question but i feel like it was important to try to explain why i saw them as slightly different.

essentially i think my thoughts on kind vs nice can be summed up by this quote-

Niceness, then, is often expressed through words or gestures, while kindness is often expressed through acts.

and lysistrata proved repeatedly that she is willing to act by speaking up consistently despite how taboo it is in the capitol. whereas i don’t view clemensia as someone who would be as willing to directly assert a district citizens humanity so publicly (again, my own personal interpretation.).

because of this- i believe lysistrata is a lot more likely to get herself in trouble quicker by opening her mouth and sticking up for the district citizens, especially after this experience. whereas i do not think clemensia would be as likely to risk her safety to do so.

[gothra]

I’m so tired of all of the stupid, bad-faith defenses of corsetry, honestly. “It’s like wearing a bra! Corsets were the bras of their time!” They were underwear, but they weren’t the “bras” of their time, because bras are the bras of their time and corsets wrap around your entire torso. And bras TODAY are uncomfortable and they only go on the top half, so how much fun do you think wearing a bra for your stomach and breasts were? Women today are taking off their uncomfortable bras in protest, I imagine that the anti-corset women of the time were probably onto something and not just being weird about it. “Women were able to work comfortably in them for hours!” Okay, I’m sure there were plenty of women who felt more comfortable wearing stomach binding fabric than speaking up about the misogynistic standards of appearance and losing friends or their job. And how do you KNOW they were comfortable? Because they didn’t complain? You’re saying that, because they didn’t do the thing that women are notoriously afraid of doing in an age where the standards for the things that women should say and do were harsher, that means that “most” of them actually liked it? Could it be possible that most of them didn’t want to make trouble? Could it be possible that they simply forced themselves to adapt, much like women do today? There are women who work in stilettos for 8-10 hours a day, gritting their teeth through the pain and pretending it doesn’t hurt, or writing it off as no big deal. Are we going to wave it all away as not really an issue because ‘her shoes were just too tight!’ Or are we going to acknowledge the fact that, like corsets, some things are inherently not designed for comfort and that comfort is a privilege when it comes to these things? Are we going to ignore the fact that there is an issue at the very heart of the design of the product? How could it POSSIBLY be comfortable to have a stiff garment wrapping around your stomach and chest and ribs that you have to wear under layers and layers of clothing? How could it POSSIBLY be comfortable for a woman to walk around all day in a pair of shoes that shorten her calves and numb her toes? If a garment restricts even ONE important facet of a woman’s life (eating, drinking, running, BREATHING DEEPLY, laying down, etc.) then it’s not sustainable as a source of comfort. “All of the fainting and stuff, that’s just from lacing it too tight!” First of all, ignoring the implications of defending a garment that could possibly injure or kill someone if misused, just because the instances where women were mutilating their bodies by wearing their clothes too tight were few, doesn’t mean that suddenly it’s fine to overwrite the other, smaller discomforts. Saying “well, they didn’t always kill people” is a shit defense that begs the question: “why were people designing clothes that even could?”

I don’t understand why it’s so difficult to just admit that some stuff of certain eras SUCKED and were bad for women? Why are the women who point out the subjugation of women shunned and called close-minded? Furthermore, do you not trust the words of the women who LIVED in those eras and spoke up against those practices? Why not? Because they were in the minority in an era when being openly disobedient to the social norms resulted in severe backlash? Of course the anti-corset resistance was small, these were a chosen few women who weren’t afraid of the consequences of resistance! Of course every other woman was smiling and working through their suffering. Do you think the ones who weren’t were all crazy crybabies? You trust the words of the women who say what YOU want them to say to defend you so you don’t have to face being misguided or even flat-out wrong! I’m so tired of the idea that pretending that women weren’t victims somehow equals them having actually been more free than we thought.

Saying “women have had to live under unfair and oppressive standards that have severely impacted their health and personhood all throughout history” is not the same as saying “women are weak because they allowed themselves to be subjected to oppression!” You people wonder why feminism doesn’t have teeth or claws, it’s because you disarm and nullify it a bit more every time you uncritically agree with Bernadette Banner. Women shouldn’t even have to wear JEANS THAT ARE TOO FUCKING TIGHT!!!!!

[irisstarsblog]

Need a pt.2 to wrong again 🙏

Letting go.

The fire escape became your sanctuary for the next few nights. Each evening, you’d find yourself perched on the cold metal, the city humming below like a living, breathing thing that didn’t care about broken hearts. You tried to convince yourself you’d moved on—that what you’d said to Miles didn’t matter anymore. But the truth lingered, heavy and unrelenting.

The memory of his face that night haunted you. The regret in his eyes. The apology he couldn’t quite put into words. You told yourself it wasn’t his fault. And it wasn’t. But knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.

Tonight was colder than usual. Your breath curled in white wisps as you clutched a steaming mug of tea, letting the heat seep into your fingers. The world below seemed quieter, as though the city itself had decided to mourn with you.

“You’re gonna freeze out here.”

The voice startled you, and you nearly dropped your mug. When you turned, Miles was standing on the fire escape, his mask in hand, his expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Shouldn’t you be—”

“Patrolling?” He shrugged. “I was. But I... I wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, looking away. The last thing you needed was another reminder of what you couldn’t have.

Miles stepped closer, sitting down a few feet away. The distance felt intentional, like he was giving you space. “You don’t look fine.”

You huffed a bitter laugh, staring into your tea. “Well, I’m not. But that’s not your problem, is it?”

He flinched at your words, and guilt immediately twisted in your chest. You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Sorry. That was unfair.”

“It’s okay,” he said quietly. “I get it.”

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the city filling the void. For a moment, you wondered if he would leave again, swinging off into the night and taking the last of your resolve with him.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” Miles finally spoke, his voice soft but steady. “About... you loving me.”

Your heart clenched, and you stared at the skyline, refusing to look at him. “Don’t,” you murmured. “Just let it go.”

“I can’t.” He shifted, leaning forward so you couldn’t avoid his gaze. “I care about you, [Y/N]. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“But you don’t love me.” The words tasted like ash, but you forced yourself to say them. “Not the way I want you to.”

Miles didn’t respond immediately, and that silence said everything. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. “I don’t want to lose you.”

You laughed, the sound hollow. “You already have, Miles. Not because of anything you did, but because I can’t... I can’t keep pretending this doesn’t hurt. Watching you with her. Being your friend, your support, when all I want is to be the one you love.”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. “I can’t keep breaking my own heart for you.”

Miles looked like he wanted to argue, to say something that would fix everything. But there was nothing to fix. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “For everything.”

You nodded, blinking rapidly to clear your vision. “I know.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt a strange sense of peace. Like acknowledging the pain had taken some of its power away. You turned to Miles, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “I think I need some time. To figure out who I am without... this. Without you.”

Miles hesitated, his expression conflicted. But he nodded. “Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.”

You managed a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thank you.”

When Miles left, the emptiness in your chest felt a little different. Not less painful, but less consuming. For the first time, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could move on. The city stretched out before you, endless and full of possibilities. And as the first rays of dawn painted the horizon, you decided it was time to find yourself again.

Time to start over.

Time to let go.

[igotanidea]

Castle of glass: Frank Castle x fem!reader

my fav @somest1 was in need of hurt/comfort with Punisher so how could I refuse? :D :D

A/N: My first Frank fanfiction so pls, be understanding since he may be a bit ooc.

Summary: Secrets and understatements are relationship killers. And Frank is walking on thin ice with it. In his case, this may be the reason of someone getting phisically hurt.

***

„Frank.”

The only answer was his back turned to her and silent hum, barely audible, almost like a sign he acknowledged her presence, not able to ignore it, but didn’t wish to talk.

“Frank.” She tried again, this time her voice stronger, more confident, yet not enough to make him speak. “Damn it, Castle, answer me, what the hell happened!?

“Nothing you should be worrying about.” He muttered not changing position to face her and his behavior finally made her loose it.

“Nothing…? Nothing I should be worrying about?! Do you even hear yourself, Frank? Your face is all over the news! People are after you!”

“It’s nothing” he insisted

“God damn it, why are you so stubborn?” she circled the room and sat on the carpet in front of him in an attempt to catch his attention, but of course, since he was the Punisher, intimidating, tough and unwavering he did not give up. At least for the first five minutes. “Frank.” She spoke again silently reaching for his hand making him raise head and focus eyes on her face “Come on, tell me. What did you do?”

“Do you trust me?” he asked with that hoarse, a bit shaking voice.

“Frank…..” Y/N eyes looks so pleading, almost begging him to stop playing whatever game this was

“Do you?”

“Of course I do. But…..”

“Then I need you to keep doing that.” He grabbed her hand tighter “Whatever you hear or see I need you to believe me. Do you understand? They will try to play with your mind, break us apart, set you against me. “

“Who….?” Her voice shook a bit “Frank, you are scaring me now….”

“I’m sorry, honey. But I can’t say anything more. It will put you in more danger than…..”

“So I am in danger?”

“I will protect you.” he assured

“Mhm. I’m sure. But who will protect you?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Right. You’ve got enough prove of that on your face and all over your body. Why are you still doing this?”

“I need to set some things straight.”

“I don’t understand a single thing from what you are saying to me.” She stood up abruptly and once again started circling the room in nerves, not able to sit still and look at him, still unfazed. He was so withdrawn and persistent. Always feeling like he had to carry the weight of the world on his shoulder. Torn between not wanting to drag anyone into his mess and yet, ending up making people that cared about him with mixed emotions – stress, fear, anger, pain…..

“I need you to …..”

“Trust you, you said it!” she spat “And I already told you I do! But you are making it nearly impossible for me. I never asked you to change, all right! All I needed from you was honesty.” She sighed deeply, frustrated and feeling betrayed. “Why won’t you keep me in the dark, Frank? Still. We’ve been together for a while now and….”

“And look where it got you!” he raised and took a step towards her, his clenched fists and narrowed eyes making her stumble back. “Look how your life looks like right now! No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try you are still scared!”

“I……”

“What, huh? What?!” he yelled at her not realizing how his emotions were controlling him now

“This is so unfair, Frank.” She sobbed “you are being unfair. And wrong. I am not scared about my life. I am scared about you. I know your past, I know what you did, all that violence and hardheadedness. And I know that other part you are trying to cover up for so much. I know that you care, I know that you are not a monster people portray you like. But it’s so fucking hard to have to discover it all by myself, because you won’t tell me a single thing!”

“I can’t!”

“Of course you can’t! Of course you can’t tell my why you are accused of a shooting in the Hell’s kitchen! I’m sure you can’t explain to me why your former lawyers and my closest friends are calling me asking what the fuck you are doing.”

“Murdock?”

“Yes, Matt and Foggy. Oh, and Karen. She is fairly disappointed in you, let me let you. Not that is bothers you, of course. You are that one person who are stuck so much in your own ways you can’t change them! You’d rather burn than speak!”

“Y/N…..”

“I trust you Frank, I really do. But you are stepping on very, very thin ice right now. And I think I need to be alone for a while. You can go fix whatever mess you got yourself into and ….. possibly find me later.”

“I need you to stay here. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Mhm, sure. See you later Frank” she turned around crossing her arms, the only sound she heard was slamming of the door. Stay here, damn my ass! He is not the boss of me. Y/N clenched her hands and without any more hesitation reached for the phone, dialing familiar number.

“Karen? I got s story and I think I could use your help in pursuit.”

***

“Thanks again for your help, Karen. You are like the only person I could ask for this favor.”

“I know. I would never back down from a good story.”

“The one that can set things straight?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at her blonde friend, unknowingly using the same words Frank choose while speaking to her a few hours later.

“Hey, you help Frank, I help Matt.”

“ So the devil got himself in some trouble as well.”

“Can’t remember the time where he did not.” Karen sighed “the shooting?”

“So you’ve heard…..”

“Y/N, be serious, everyone heard. It’s all over the news.”

“So I guess Matt believed it?”

“No.”

“No?” Y/N frowned. Considering Matt’s character and his relationship with Frank, both in civil and in the other impersonation this was quite surprising .

“No.” Karen shook her head “If anything, he had one of those hunch of his, you know what I mean” Karen rolled her eyes “and despite any rational argument decided to get to the bottom of it. Figure out who was a real perpetrator behind this …. Massacre.” And it got news talking about devil turning to the dark side.”

“This is not good. They are not in the best of terms and if they meet ……”

“They’ll be fine. We saw them working together before.”

“And it got them both bloodied and beaten up.”

“Nothing new, I guess.” The blonde shrugged

“And yet we are here to do exactly the same thing.”

“You are too modest, Y/N. We both know we are way better than both of them combined.”

“I’ll drink to that.” The girls laughed lightly. It was nice to have somewhat humorous approach but deep inside they were aware of the seriousness of the task they were up for.

***

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

Two men were standing on the rooftop in front of each other. A second ago one of them was crouching on the edge, observing the group in the opposite building, but hearing soft landing behind reached for his gun and pointed it towards the other.

“Come on, Frank, I come in peace.” Matt Murdock in his Daredevil gear smirked “if I didn’t know better I would say you are scared.”

“You value yourself too much, Red.”

“And that is coming from you.”

Slowly Matt moved towards Frank and the latter lowered the weapon.

“I believe we have common interests here.”

“I work alone.”

“So do I. But this time ….”

“It’s no different this time.”

“It is.”

“You’re starting to get on my nerves here, Murdock.” Matt did not even bother to reply to that accusation. “I’m gonna ask you once again – why. The hell. Are you. here?”

“I got some bad press.” As if that sentence wasn’t vague enough

“So?”

“I need to clear my name.”

“You mean, devil’s name.” Frank snorted “I never took for the one who cared about reputation.”

“The girls are chasing this story as well.”

“Y/N?” Frank’s heartrate picked up significantly and Matt smirked. They had a fight.

“Alongside with Karen.”

“I told her to …..”

“And she is known for her listening, right? The only way to keep them safe is if we uncover the truth first. You know I’m right.”

“I hate you, Red.”

“What have you got till now?’

Seems like they were about to work together after all.

***

“So there was no suspicious activity in the neighborhood in that time?”  Y/N was interrogating one of the residents in the area with her most doe-like eyes, acting all innocent, like a scared little girl. This was something that always got people soft and talking.

“Sorry, doll. I was watching a football match. Heard nothing due to all my shouting. Can you imagine that this damn team….”

“Thank you so much, sir.” she cut him off  and walked away before he could get the chance to bore her with all the unimportant sport details.

“Anything?” Karen asked when Y/N crossed the street and approached her.

“Nope. Apart from some new knowledge of insects and soccer. You?”

“I may have a lead.”

“Of course you do. I don’t understand how you do that …..”

“Practice” Karen smiled “we will have to go to one of the bad areas.”

“Are there any different ones here, because I don’t think so.”

“But it’s getting dark, we will have to be careful.”

“Tell me something new, Karen. You are the one with the gun in your purse, so I guess I will have to hide behind you if we get in trouble. Now, where do we go?”

***

“Tell us what you know!” Matt and Frank where alternately yelling at the bloodied and almost unconscious man, five or six others defeated on the floor, leaving a gruesome trail of their actions.

“you two truly are pathetic and desperate….” The crime boss known under the alias Gold laughed mockingly “I’m not a snitch. You’ll get nothing from me.”

“I bet we can find a way to ….” Frank put a gun towards Gold’s head almost expecting Matt to stop him, but it never came.

“You assume your little gun can help you, Castle. Funny as it is. I’m not afraid of death….”

“You’re not dying just yet.” Matt hissed “it won’t be so easy……”

***

Karen and Y/N hesitantly approached suspiciously looking dive bar, the feeling of danger amplified by the quietness of the district and by the flicking street lights.

“Karen…..”

“I know……”

“Maybe we should……?”

“But we’ve come so far…..”

“But still, this is way above our level of expertise …….”

“As much as I hate to admit it, you may be right.”

“So, do we?”

“Not so fast you two!” deep voice made two girls froze in the spot. Soon they heard footsteps of many other people around, surrounding them, blocking any way out.

“Shit.” Both girls hissed in unison getting closer to each other in poor attempt to stay calm.

***

 “Will you hurry up, RED?!”

“You are the one who are slowing us down!”

“Shut the fuck up! Y/N is in danger now!”

“So is Karen!”

***

“Sweet, little, pathetic and innocent little girls. You came here looking for trouble or fun?”

“We can give you fun.”

“Even if it’s just going to be such from our point of view.”

Y/N and Karen were captured, taken to the basement and thrown into the middle of it, five criminals watching them like prays. While Y/N decided it would be best to just stay quiet and not give them any satisfaction Karen had a different plan in her head.   

“Are you all responsible for the firefight?”

“Are you a journalist, dearie? You want information? Guess you will have to work harder to get any.”

“I don’t really need them. I already figured out the truth.”

“Karen.” Y/N hissed warning her friend not to go any further with her words.

“Relax, I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?” the other girl hissed “I think you act delusional! Can’t you see, we are in deep shit!”

“Well, well, well, I guess we got one who got some reason inside.” One of the man chuckled “good for you, girl. If you …. entertain us, we may even consider letting you out. As for your friend, not so sure. She is way too unruly, for her own good.” He came closer grabbing Karen’s chin making her look straight into his face.

“How would you like me to entertain you?” Y/N’s sultry voice distracted him enough to let go .

“I’ve got some ideas. First of all, I don’t like that little T-shirt of yours.”

“Y/N what the hell are you doing?!” Karen cried ‘Stop it!”

“Hush, quiet, I’m sure we can work our way with those gentlemen.”

“Willing one, aren’t you. I like it.”

“Do you? Maybe you can convince my friend to join the game as well. What do you wish to do with us?”

“I’ve had so many girls during the years, you know, baby. So many different races transported from one place to another, here and there but you are the only one who are so open to the ideas”

“How am I different from them?” Y/N continued her flirting “is it my voice? My lips? My body?”

“They were always fighting. When we captured them and talked calmly they never listened. Just like your friend. Little sluts. We had to use some pills to actually convince them.”

“Oh….. how rude of them.” It was getting harder to keep the serious voice. This idiot had no idea what he was just doing, hypnotized by her words and the way she was sticking out her breasts.

“But you….. I might keep you to myself. You seem far too precious to sell you to anyone else.”

“Can you untie me then?”

“Boss!” before Y/N got what she wanted the person who was on the lookout outside came running inside  

“What the fuck, now!?”

“We got company! And I don’t mean those girls! Daredevil and Punisher!”

“WHAT! You brought them here!?”

“We did not!”

“Right. Like I believe you! And we were just getting acquainted! Too bad I will be forced to hurt you, baby. Just like I did before when someone got too interested in my business and we had to open fire. Now come here, little one” he grabbed Y/N pointing towards one of his minder instructing him to do the same with Karen. “We’re leaving.”

***

“Get the girls! I’ll hold them back!”

***

“Y/N!”  shooting left and right Frank got the room where the boss escaped with the girls, now keeping Y/N close to his, pointing a knife to her throat. “Let her go or I’ll kill you.”

“Before the bullet gets to me she’ll be already bleeding out. If you lower your gat however I may consider letting her go.

“Bullshit!”

“Right. It is, pure bullshit.” He smiled vindiclively and without any hesitation slit the girl’s throat.

“Y/N!” Frank and Karen yelled and from that moment the events turned unexpected turn.

***

Four people were crowded in the tiny room. Foggy joined his friends as soon as he could, after receiving disturbing call from Karen who was sobbing and in shaky voice described him what happened.  

Three of them dressed neatly in black, the last one refusing to choose this color and instead straying in his casual, ruffled clothes. Karen had flowers in her hands but she lacked any strength to hold them properly so they dangled dolefully. No one said a single word and it made the whole situation even more tragic. This is not how it was supposed to go. This was never supposed to happen.

Each one of them, were immersed in their own thoughts and feelings.

Karen was utterly broken, Foggy still processing the situation (since he wasn’t present at the scene),  Matt angry and Frank….. Frank was just standing in front of the window, without a single emotion on his face. His whole body stiff, his eyes unmoving, fists clenched. It was his fault. Again. It was all on him. She was right from the beginning. If he was honest with her it would never ended up like this. This was on him and he would never never live it through.

“Frank….” Karen noticed the catatonic state he was in and approached him quietly “frank?”

“FUCK!” he yelled taking her by surprise even if it was predictable.

“It’s not….” she started

“Don’t even started it. It is because of me! I should have stopped her and now…. now…..” his voice broke

“Y/N’s sot the person who could be stopped and you know it.”

“I just can’t …..” acting out of character he hid his face in hands “not again…..”

Seconds after Y/N got her throat cut, Matt came running through the door, aiming straight at the crime boss taking him down in a few, well aimed punches and kicks. Only then he had some time to wrap his head around the situation. Karen was crying and shaking on the ground next to Frank, who was holding Y/N in his arms, cradling her close, getting his hands and chest dirty and bloodied with her blood flowing freely.”

“It’s gonna be all right, baby, it’s gonna be all right. Just stay with me, please.”

“Frank.” Matt’s voice got the other man’s attention “We need to….”

“No. No, we   don’t need to anything. I will take her.”

“Be serious. We are still wanted. We can’t just walk into the hospital. I’ll call Claire, she will help us. Fuck! Take the help, Frank. You’re not the only one who cares about her!”

Castle just muttered something under his nose but nodded and as quick as it was possible they transported bleeding out girl to the medical facility hoping it was not too late to save her.

While Frank carried Y/N outside something dropped from the girl’s pocket. Dictating machine. She got it all on record. The confession of the criminals. Now, thanks to her sacrifice, it was possible to set things straight.  

“It’s gonna be fine, Frank. We will…..”

“It’s time.” Foggy interrupted them before any words were said. “We can go in now.”

“Maybe we should let Frank do it alone at first.” Matt chimed in “we can wait.” His eyes crossed Frank’s who just nodded and surprisingly quiet entered the adjacent room.

***

The clarity, sterility and brightness of the place was tragicomic contract to the way he looked like in his dark, messy clothes. Y/N was lying in the bed in the middle, looking innocent, pale, fragile and to small surrounded by the much bigger bedframe. Just another victim of rumble she should never be involved in, hurt, broken and yet, so peaceful. Frank clenched his jaws, since this was the only way for him to avoid screaming or breaking something. He could not stand seeing her this way. So…. lifeless. Seconds stretched into hours when he approached her, examining girl’s face.

“Y/n…..” he spoke with desperation in his voice, begging any higher entity he did not believe in to bring her back to him. “please…..”

“ Frank….?” Y/n stirred in her sleep, the first word in her lips being his name. And then she open eyes, her e/c orbs meeting his. “Hi…..” she whispered softly.

“ Y/N…..” he grabbed her hand, bringing it to his face “I thought I lost you…..”

“How …. How long was I out?”

“Three days.”

“What happened?” she tried to lift herself up, but since it took too much strength she gave up and fell back onto the pillows.

“How much do you remember?”

“I…..” her hand involuntarily travelled to her throat “do I have a scar? Am I a badass now?”

“You were always a badass.” He admitted “Y/n…. I’m sorry…..”

“For what?”

“You were right.”

“Hm? Can you say that again? I was right?”

“Don’t.” he warned, corners of his lips lifting slightly

“Ok. But I need you to promise me something Frank. Right now, while you looking at me here. I need you to swear to me you will be honest with me from this time on. So I can help, having all the information. So I won’t have to search for my own and get hurt. Or worse, see you hurt. I am not a helpless little girl you take me for.”

“You surely look like one now, sweetheart. I was really scared about you. The doctors barely saved you……”

“This is a taste of your own medicine, dear. Now you know what it feels like to see the person you care about broken and hurting. Now, promise me.”

“I promise” he whispered leaning down and kissing her forehead in the most affectionate way he could, hoping she would get the silent message he could not relay with words. I love you.

“Will you stay with me? I’m sure Matt, Karen and Foggy are out wanting to see me, but I just want you for a while.”

“Always.”  

@pinksirensong

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Unique - for all the ros, please. i know you did something similar in your 'pick this route if you like xyz'. but in an instory pov, what are unique or individual to them things that they do that makes them stand out [or just are subtle and soft] as a partner?

AAA I was very excited for this one!

U = Unique(What makes them unique as a s/o?)

Jean/Jade is very meticulous. They're a perfectionist, and this translates into their relationships. When J dates someone they're very self-sacrificing in every way, shape and form. This stems from the fact that J is pretty stupid around their feelings lol (everything is rational and everything makes sense, but romance most certainly doesn't).

Uma’s uniqueness might as well be how detail-oriented they are. They also have a great memory (they're going to remember everything about their s/o, the good and the bad). Gift-giving might not be that high up as Uma's love language, but they do love to make sure their partner is appreciated (and to let them know that Uma's been thinking about them). They also give the best gifts🫂💕

For our n.2 self-sacrificing fool, Statler I’m going to choose both their resilience and their self-awareness. Statler is far from being perfect, but they've grown so much as a person since they were a teen. The amount of responsibility Statler carries and how much they love the people around them (taking care of them, being dependable for their sake). It comes with tons of stress (and Statler not being able to fully live their own life), but it's still admirable in a way.

Wanda stands out because of her emotional maturity alone lol (it's something very normal and very valid to ask in a partner, but she's the most emotionally stable out of all the ROs and that deserves to be acknowledged). Wanda rarely gets jealous, she's emotionally expressive, she's not demanding of her partner's time, she's supportive. Where can I find someone like her🧍

Lol Kai is such a mess they're a bit hard to define without spoiling anything. The way they've grown and the way they've viewed the world up to this point has been very unfair, and Kai genuinely doesn't know the first thing about having a healthy relationship. For Kai's unique feature, I'd choose their role in MC's life. They're the RO in whose route MC feels the most free/liberated.

Travis is also unsurprisingly hard to pinpoint. I think his bluntness makes him stand out. Travis' partner will never have to doubt him or his feelings, he's always going to be straightforward with what he believes and thinks. It might not be such a good thing all the time, but it is commendable when all the other ROs lie more often than not (due to various reasons ckskxk).