#I'm so distressed right now this is the absolute worst.

[gyuuberryy]

pushing on my buttons!

pairing: bodyguard!jay x rich ceo's daughter!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, tension

synopsis: after a kidnapping attempt, your father hires jay, a cold and infuriating bodyguard you can’t seem to get rid of. you push his buttons at every turn, but as danger closes in, the tension between you turns into something far more dangerous—an undeniable connection neither of you can ignore.

warnings: mentions of blood, a bit of fighting, kissing

note: i'm dropping smth two months later finallyy(i'm still in the middle of exams AGAIN). i feel like this is not my best work, i had a major writer's block with it and ended up making it basic? idk i haven't been feeling well recently with the insane amount of workload i have since the start of this year and the burn out shows in this ughh. i hope the fic isn't too bad TT enjoy!

word count 5.8k

If you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3 | taglist

the heavy oak doors of your father’s office loomed before you, their polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the hallway chandelier. you paused, your fingers hovering over your phone screen, scrolling through a feed of designer handbags you didn’t need but absolutely wanted. 

the text from your father had been curt, almost ominous: “my office. now.” 

you rolled your eyes. it was probably about the credit card statement again. you had a perfectly good excuse ready—charity auction, obviously. he’d buy it. he always did.

with a sigh, you pushed the doors open, not bothering to knock. “you rang?” you said, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you leaned against the doorframe, still engrossed in your phone.

your father didn’t look up from his desk. “sit,” he commanded, his voice sharp enough to make you glance up.

you blinked. okay. not a good sign.

it was then that you noticed him. the man standing beside your father, a silent shadow in the room. he was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed entirely in black—black tactical pants, black fitted shirt, black boots that looked like they could crush a skull without breaking a sweat. his arms were crossed over his chest, his posture relaxed but somehow radiating intensity. his face was all sharp angles and hard lines, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the room with a precision that made you feel like he’d already dissected every inch of it—and you along with it.

you straightened, your phone slipping into your pocket as you took a step forward. “who’s this?” you asked, your tone light but laced with suspicion.

your father gestured toward the man, his expression unyielding. “this is jay. your new bodyguard.”

the words hung in the air for a moment, heavy and absurd. then you laughed—a sharp, incredulous sound that echoed off the mahogany walls. “you’re joking.”

your father didn’t laugh. neither did jay. in fact, jay didn’t so much as twitch. his expression remained impassive, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

you turned back to your father, your laughter fading into a scoff. “this isn’t necessary. i’m not in danger. that whole kidnapping thing? a fluke. it’s been weeks and nothing’s happened.”

your father’s jaw tightened. “which is exactly why you need protection. we’re not taking any chances.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but jay beat you to it. his voice was low, calm, and infuriatingly even. “i’m not here to be liked, just to do my job.”

your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. excuse me?

he met your glare without flinching, his expression as unreadable as a stone wall. he didn’t care. not about your annoyance, not about your defiance, not about you. the realisation made your blood boil.

“congratulations on the worst job in existence,” you said coolly, tilting your head as you studied him. “because i’m not some damsel in distress.”

jay didn’t blink. “right. you handled the last situation so well.”

your jaw dropped. the audacity. “excuse you—”

“enough,” your father interjected, pinching the bridge of his nose like he was already regretting this entire conversation. “jay will be with you at all times. this isn’t up for discussion.”

you stared at him, then at jay, who was still standing there like some brooding statue, completely unfazed. your mind raced, already plotting ways to make his life a living hell. fine. if this was happening, you wouldn’t make it easy for him.

you flashed jay a sweet, taunting smile, the kind that usually made people nervous. “try and keep up.”

his lips twitched—just barely—but it wasn’t a smile. more like a challenge accepted. “i don’t plan on falling behind.”

oh, you already hated him. hated the way he looked at you like you were a problem to be solved, hated the way he stood there like he owned the room, hated the way his voice sent an unwelcome shiver down your spine. but most of all, you hated that he didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by you.

your father exhaled, clearly done with the conversation. “jay will start immediately. i expect you to cooperate.”

you didn’t respond. instead, you turned on your heel and strode toward the door, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. you could feel jay’s eyes on your back, tracking your every move, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of looking over your shoulder. let him try to keep up. you were already planning your first escape.

as the doors swung shut behind you, you couldn’t help but smirk. this was going to be fun.

the first twenty-four hours with jay as your shadow were unbearable. it wasn’t just his constant presence—it’s the way he moves like he knows what you’re about to do before you do it, like some kind of infuriating psychic in tactical gear.

you woke up to find him standing right outside your bedroom door. arms crossed, eyes alert, posture straight. like a soldier. like a statue. like someone who had absolutely no life outside of making yours miserable.

you glare at him, silk robe slipping off your shoulder, hair a mess. “do you ever sleep? or do you just stand there like a creep all night?”

jay doesn’t react. not even a twitch. his gaze flicks over you, assessing, before looking away.

he didn’t react. not even a twitch. his dark eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing, before he looked away, his expression as blank as ever.

“good morning,” he said, his tone flat.

you rolled your eyes and slammed the door in his face.

when you went to get coffee, he was already there, waiting. the barista gave him a once-over, their eyes lingering on his broad shoulders and the faint scar that ran along his jawline. then they glanced at you, their eyebrows raised in a silent question: are you okay? do you need help?

you forced a smile. “he’s harmless,” you said, though the words tasted like a lie. jay didn’t so much as blink.

you grabbed your latte and stormed out, jay falling into step behind you like some kind of silent, brooding ghost. you could feel his eyes on your back, watching, always watching. it was suffocating.

in meetings, it was worse. you sat at the head of the conference table, your laptop open, your team discussing quarterly projections, and there he was—standing against the far wall, arms still crossed, his gaze sweeping the room like he was expecting an ambush at any moment. every time you glanced his way, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable.

you tried to ignore him. you really did. but his presence was like a thundercloud hovering over the room, dark and oppressive. by the time the meeting ended, you were ready to scream.

you had to get rid of him immediately.

attempt #1: the emergency exit 

it was simple, really. you waited until you were in the middle of a crowded lobby with jay, your phone pressed to your ear, your face the picture of distress. “no—no, stay right there, i’ll be there in five minutes,” you said, your voice trembling just enough to sound convincing. then you slipped out the back door, quick, smooth, victorious.

you couldn’t help but grin as you rounded the corner, your heart racing with the thrill of escape. finally, some freedom. finally, some—

jay was already there.

leaning against your car, arms still crossed, not even looking at you. like he’d been waiting for hours. like he’d known exactly where you’d go.

you froze, your smile slipping. “how the hell—”

he finally acknowledged you, tilting his head just slightly. his lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

your fingers clenched into fists. oh. it was war.

attempt #2: the disappearing act

you waited until you were at a charity gala, the kind of event where everyone was too busy sipping champagne and gossipping to notice anything amiss. you slipped into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, your movements quick and deliberate. you ducked behind a potted plant, then made your way to the service entrance, your heart pounding with excitement.

you were almost there. almost free. and then—

“leaving so soon?”

you whirled around, your breath catching in your throat. jay stood in the doorway, his arms still crossed, his expression as calm as ever. he didn’t even look winded.

“how do you keep doing that?” you demanded, your voice rising.

he shrugged, the motion infuriatingly casual. “it’s my job.”

“your job is to annoy me to death?”

“if that’s what it takes to keep you alive, then yes.”

you glared at him, your chest heaving with frustration. he stared back, unflinching, his dark eyes boring into yours. for a moment, the air between you crackled with something electric, and you wanted to so badly give into it and just cause a tantrum. instead, you turned on your heel and stormed back into the gala, jay following close behind.

attempt #3: sensory overload

the mall was a chaotic symphony of chatter, clattering shopping bags, and the faint hum of pop music playing over the speakers. you strode through the bustling crowd, your heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, your eyes darting toward the exit signs. jay was a step behind you, his presence as unshakable as ever. his dark eyes scanned the crowd, his posture tense, like he was expecting a sniper to take a shot at any moment.

you rolled your eyes. “relax, rambo. it’s a mall, not a war zone.”

he didn’t respond. of course he didn’t. he just kept walking, his gaze flicking toward you every few seconds, like he was making sure you hadn’t somehow vanished into thin air.

you gritted your teeth. this was supposed to be your day. you had a date with someone your mutual friend had set you up with. your father had forbidden you from going, but since when had you ever listened to him? and yet, here was jay, ruining everything like some overgrown shadow you couldn’t shake.

you bit back a sigh. if you wanted to shake him, you’d have to get creative.

spotting a perfume shop up ahead, you darted inside, the overwhelming scent of floral and citrus hitting you instantly. jay followed without hesitation, his towering frame making the narrow aisles feel even smaller.

“why are we here?” he asked, his voice low and gruff.

“to test some new scents,” you replied innocently, grabbing a random bottle and spraying it on your wrist. “you wouldn’t understand.”

jay raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

you tried a few more perfumes, using up the space on your wrists and arms. finally, you turned to him, holding up a bottle.

“hold out your arm.”

jay blinked. “what?”

“you’re supposed to test it on skin,” you said, your tone overly patient. “and i’m out of space. come on.”

reluctantly, he extended his arm. you sprayed the perfume lightly on his wrist and leaned in, inhaling deeply.

jay tensed under your touch, his muscles stiffening as your fingers brushed his skin. you glanced up, noticing the tightness in his jaw, but you didn’t comment.

“it’s not bad,” you said, tilting your head. “but maybe something lighter.”

you reached for another bottle, quickly spraying it on his other wrist. this time, you didn’t stop at one spray. you pressed the nozzle again and again, filling the air with an overpowering mix of scents.

jay sneezed once, then twice, stumbling back a step as he tried to clear his nose.

“what the hell are you doing?” he asked, his voice muffled between sneezes.

“just testing!” you said, holding up your hands in mock innocence. “you’re being dramatic.”

jay glared at you, but before he could recover, you dropped the perfume bottle and bolted, weaving through the crowded store and out into the mall. you didn’t look back. you didn’t need to. you could hear his footsteps behind you, heavy and determined.

your heart raced as you sprinted through the mall, dodging shoppers and strollers. you spotted a clothing store up ahead, its entrance tucked away in a quieter corner. perfect. you ducked inside, your breath coming in short gasps as you scanned the store. the dressing rooms. that was your best bet.

you darted toward them, slipping into the first stall you saw. you yanked the curtain closed, your chest heaving as you pressed your back against the wall. for a moment, there was silence. then you heard it—the sound of footsteps, slow and deliberate, approaching the stall.

the curtain flew open, and there he was. jay. his chest was rising and falling slightly, his dark eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped into the stall, his body crowding yours as he pinned you against the wall. the curtain fell shut behind him, enclosing you in the small, dimly lit space.

you stared up at him, your breath catching in your throat. he was so close you could see the faint stubble along his jaw, the way his pulse jumped in his neck. his hands were braced on either side of your head, his body caging you in. the air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your stomach twist and your heart race for reasons that had nothing to do with running.

“you’re not as clever as you think you are,” he said, his voice low and rough.

you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “and you’re not as scary as you think you are.”

his lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk. “try me.”

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words died on your tongue. his eyes dropped to your lips, just for a second, and something shifted between you. the air crackled with electricity, the kind that made your skin prickle and your breath hitch. you could feel the heat radiating off him, the way his body seemed to press closer without actually moving.

for a moment, neither of you moved. then jay stepped back, his expression shuttering as he regained control. “let’s go,” he said, his tone clipped.

you didn’t argue. for once, you didn’t have the words.

the party was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of expensive perfume, champagne, and the faint hum of a live jazz band. you stood near the centre of the room, dressed in a sleek black gown that hugged your figure perfectly, a glass of champagne in hand. you laughed at something your friend said, the sound light and carefree, but your attention was elsewhere.

jay.

he was standing across the room, leaning against a pillar, his arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on you. he wasn’t even trying to hide it. he was watching you like a hawk, his expression unreadable but his gaze intense enough to make your skin prickle.

your friend leaned in, her voice low and teasing. “he’s been looking at you all night.”

you shrugged, pretending not to care. “who? jay? he’s just doing his job.”

but the truth was, you did care. you were hyper-aware of him now, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. and it annoyed you. it annoyed you that he could stand there, so calm and collected, while you felt like you were unravelling.

so you decided to push him.

you flirted with everyone but him. you laughed a little too loudly at a joke a handsome stranger made. you let your hand linger on the arm of a guy who clearly had no idea what personal space was. you disappeared into the crowd, weaving through the sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, pretending jay didn’t exist.

but he did. he always did.

suddenly, a man—tall, broad-shouldered, with a cocky grin—stepped into your space, his hand hovering near your waist as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. his breath smelled like whisky, the proximity way too close for your comfort. 

you froze, your smile faltering. before you could react, jay was there.

he moved like a shadow, swift and silent, stepping between you and the man with a presence that was impossible to ignore. his voice was cool but sharp, cutting through the noise of the party like a knife. “hands off.”

the man blinked, his grin faltering as he took in jay’s imposing figure. “whoa, man, i was just—”

“i don’t care what you were just doing,” jay said, his tone low and dangerous. “back off.”

the man hesitated, his eyes flicking between you and jay, before he finally raised his hands in surrender and slunk away. you stared after him, stunned, your heart pounding in your chest.

when you turned back to jay, he was already looking at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes blazing with something you couldn’t quite place. he stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. “you have no idea what you’re doing.”

your breath caught. “what are you talking about?”

he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke, his voice rough and tinged with something that sounded almost like frustration. “flirting with strangers. disappearing into crowds. acting like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

you swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “i can take care of myself.”

“can you?” he asked, his tone challenging. “because from where i’m standing, it looks like you’re just trying to get a rise out of me.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your tongue. he was close—too close—his body crowding yours, his heat radiating through the thin fabric of your dress. you could smell the faint scent of his cologne, a mix of vanilla and something woodsy, and it made your head spin.

as the night wore on, you couldn’t stop thinking about it—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, rough and low and so, so close. you caught yourself glancing at him more than once, your heart skipping a beat every time your eyes met his.

oh.

so he did care.

it happens slowly. or maybe it doesn’t. maybe it’s been happening this whole time, lurking beneath the surface, waiting for you to notice. but now, you do.

you start noticing the way he moves. always a step ahead, always positioning himself between you and anything that could be a threat. his sleeves are always rolled up, revealing the veins that line his forearms, his hands steady and sure. you notice the way he watches you, his dark eyes scanning every room like he’s mapping out every possible danger, but it’s never just that. there’s something else in his gaze, something you can’t quite name.

and worse? you start feeling it.

the heat in your chest when his hand brushes yours as he passes you a coffee. the frustration that coils in your stomach when someone else looks at him for too long. the way your breath catches when he says your name instead of brat or princess or whatever sarcastic nickname he’s come up with that day.

this is a problem.

but you handle it the way you always do—by pushing him.

it’s late, with the city feeling quiet, almost peaceful, and the only light comes from the flickering neon sign of a 24-hour diner. you’re sitting in a booth by the window, picking at a plate of fries you didn’t really want but ordered anyway because you were too stubborn to admit you were hungry. jay sits across from you, his posture rigid, his eyes scanning the nearly empty diner like it’s a potential battlefield.

you roll your eyes. “relax, jay. the only danger here is the cholesterol in these fries.”

he just takes a sip of his black coffee, his expression as unreadable as ever.

you lean back in the booth, crossing your arms over your chest. “you know, you don’t have to babysit me 24/7. i’m not a child.”

his eyes flick to yours, sharp and assessing. “could’ve fooled me.”

you glare at him. “excuse me?”

he sets his coffee cup down, his voice low and even. “you act like rules don’t apply to you. like you’re invincible. you’re not.”

your jaw tightens. “and you act like you’re my dad. newsflash—you’re not.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. the tension between you is thick, almost suffocating, and you can feel it building, building, building until it finally snaps.

“why do you even care so much?” you demand, your voice rising just enough to draw the attention of the tired-looking waitress behind the counter.

jay exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t get it, do you?”

your heartbeat stutters. “then explain it to me.”

for a second, he says nothing. he just looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure you out. then he stands, slow and deliberate, and slides into the booth beside you. he’s close now, closer than he’s ever let himself be, his body heat radiating through the thin fabric of your shirt.

you don’t back away.

his eyes flicker to your lips, and your breath catches. the air between you is so thin, so sharp you can almost taste it.

he leans in, his voice low and rough. “you have no idea what i’d do to keep you safe.”

your pulse is in your throat, waiting, waiting, waiting.

but before anything can happen—

the bell above the diner door jingles, and a group of loud, laughing teenagers spills inside, shattering the moment.

jay pulls back instantly, his jaw tightening as he slides out of the booth. he doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say a word. he just walks to the counter, his posture rigid, like nothing happened.

like nothing almost happened.

but you know better.

you press a hand to your chest, trying to steady your heartbeat, but it’s no use. your mind is racing, replaying the moment over and over again—the way he’d looked at you, the way his voice had sounded, the way your body had reacted to his nearness.

this is getting dangerous.

later, as you sit in the back of the car on the way home, you can’t stop thinking about it. jay is in the driver’s seat, his eyes fixed on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. you stare at the back of his head, your thoughts a tangled mess.

you think about the way he’d stepped between you and that guy at the party, his voice sharp and commanding. you think about the way he’d leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

and you think about the way he’d pulled away, like it was nothing, like it didn’t mean anything.

but it did. you know it did.

you mentally groan, leaning your head against the window. this is a problem. a big problem. because no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise, you can’t deny it anymore.

you like him.

and that’s the most dangerous thing of all.

you don’t talk about it.

the almost-kiss, the tension that stains every interaction now—it hangs between you like a live wire, sharp and charged. you find yourself watching him more, catching the way he looks at you when he thinks you don’t notice. his gaze lingers a little too long, his movements a little too deliberate, and it drives you insane.

but you don’t talk about it.

instead, you push. you push him, you push yourself, you push the boundaries of whatever this is between you. and he pushes back, always steady, always in control, until—

one day it happens fast. too fast.

you’re walking back to the car after an event, the city lights casting long shadows on the pavement. jay is a step behind you, his presence a constant, grounding force. you’re arguing about something stupid—something meaningless—because that’s what you do now. you bicker, you snipe, you push each other’s buttons, all while pretending the tension between you doesn’t exist.

and then, out of nowhere, it happens.

you don’t even see it coming. one moment, you’re stepping off the curb, and the next, jay is moving—swift, silent, and utterly precise. he shoves you out of the way, his body shielding yours as a figure lunges at you from the shadows.

there’s a flash of metal, a grunt of pain, and then the sound of footsteps retreating into the night.

you stumble, catching yourself against the car, your heart pounding in your chest. “jay—”

he’s already turning, his hand pressed to his side, his breathing steady despite the blood seeping through his fingers. “get in the car.”

you stare at him, your mind racing. “you’re bleeding. we need to go to the hospital—l”

“it’s nothing, just a scratch” he says, his voice calm, like this is just another day on the job. like he didn’t just take a knife for you.

but it’s not nothing. it’s not nothing because your hands are shaking as you reach for him, your fingers brushing against the warm, sticky blood staining his shirt. “jay—”

“get in the car,” he repeats, his tone sharper this time. “now.”

you don’t argue. you can’t. your mind is a blur as you climb into the passenger seat, your eyes never leaving him as he slides behind the wheel. his movements are steady, controlled, but you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his knuckles whiten as he grips the steering wheel.

the drive home is silent, the air between you thick with unspoken words. you keep glancing at him, your chest tight with something you can’t quite name. fear. guilt. something else.

when you finally arrive, you follow him inside, your hands still trembling. he heads straight for the bathroom, and you trail after him, your heart hammering in your chest.

“let me see,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

he doesn’t argue this time. he just sits on the edge of the bathtub, his shirt already half-off, revealing the deep gash along his side. it’s not fatal, not even close, but it’s enough to make your stomach twist.

you grab the first aid kit from under the sink and kneel in front of him, your hands shaking as you clean the wound. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t make a sound, but you can feel his eyes on you, heavy and unreadable.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” you say, your voice breaking. “you shouldn’t have—”

“it’s my job,” he interrupts, his tone calm, like that explains everything.

but it doesn’t. not to you. not when your hands are stained with his blood, not when your chest feels like it’s about to collapse under the weight of everything you’re feeling.

“don’t,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “don’t do that again.”

he looks at you, his dark eyes searching yours, and for the first time, you see it—the crack in his armour. the flicker of something raw, something real.

“you don’t get it,” he says, his voice low and rough. “i’d do it again. every time.”

your breath catches, your hands still pressed against his side. “why?”

he doesn’t answer. not with words, at least. instead, he reaches up, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch so gentle it makes your chest ache.

and that’s it. that’s the breaking point.

you don’t think. you don’t hesitate. you just pull him in, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that’s equal parts desperation and relief. for a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t respond, and you’re terrified you’ve made a mistake.

but then his hands are in your hair, his mouth moving against yours, and it’s like the world stops. the tension, the anger, the fear, it all melts away, leaving nothing but the two of you.

the room is silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the overhead light. jay’s hands are still tangled in your hair, his forehead resting against yours, his breath warm against your lips. you can feel the rapid beat of his heart where your hand rests against his chest, and it’s almost comforting, knowing he’s as affected by this as you are.

but then he pulls back, his expression shuttering as he regains control. “we shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and rough.

you blink, your chest tightening at his words. “why not?”

he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he stands, his movements stiff as he turns away from you. “because it complicates things.”

you stare at him, your heart sinking. “complicates things? jay, you just took a knife for me. i think things are already complicated.”

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “you don’t understand.”

“then explain it to me,” you snap, your frustration bubbling over. “because i’m tired of pretending like this—whatever this is—doesn’t exist.”

he turns to look at you, his dark eyes blazing with something you can’t quite name. “you think i don’t feel it too? you think i don’t want—” he cuts himself off, his jaw tightening as he looks away. “it doesn’t matter what i want. my job is to keep you safe. that’s it.”

you step closer, your hands trembling at your sides. “and what if i don’t want you to just be my bodyguard? what if i want more?”

he doesn’t respond. not with words, at least. but you can see the conflict in his eyes, the way his hands clench and unclench at his sides. for a moment, you think he might give in, might finally let himself feel something.

but then he steps back, his expression hardening. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

you laugh, the sound bitter and hollow. “don’t i? because from where i’m standing, it seems like you’re the one who’s scared.”

his eyes narrow, and for a second, you think you’ve pushed him too far. but then he exhales, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “you’re right. i am scared. because if something happens to you—if i let myself care too much and i can’t protect you—” he cuts himself off, his voice breaking. “i can’t lose you.”

your breath catches, your chest tightening at the raw emotion in his voice. “jay—”

he doesn’t let you finish. instead, he steps forward, his hands cupping your face as he kisses you again. this time, it’s softer, slower, like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you. and you let him, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pull him closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

when he finally pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. “i can’t promise this will be easy,” he says, his voice low and rough. “but i can promise i’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

you swallow, your throat tight with emotion. “that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”

you don’t talk about it for a full twenty-four hours.

not because you regret it. god, no. if anything, the memory of his hands on you, his lips against yours, plays on a loop in your mind, leaving you breathless every time. but now, there’s no going back. no pretending this isn’t real. no pretending you don’t feel the way his presence sets your skin on fire, or the way your heart races when he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

jay is still jay. still overprotective, still infuriating, still the same stoic bodyguard who drives you up the wall. but now?

now, every argument ends with him pulling you in by the waist, his voice low and rough as he murmurs, “you’re impossible,” before silencing you with a kiss.

now, every lingering stare actually leads to something—a brush of his hand against yours, a heated glance that makes your stomach flip, a moment where the tension between you becomes too much to ignore.

and now, your father figures it out almost immediately.

it happens during a family dinner, of all things. you’re sitting at the table, picking at your food while jay sits in his usual spot by you. your father is at the head of the table, his sharp gaze flicking between you and jay with a calculating look that makes your stomach sink.

you try to act normal. you really do. but when jay’s hand brushes against yours as he passes you a glass of water, and you catch yourself smiling at him without thinking, your father clears his throat.

“so,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes sharp. “when were you planning on telling me?”

you freeze, your fork halfway to your mouth. “telling you what?”

your father raises an eyebrow, gesturing between you and jay. “about this.”

you feel your face heat, your heart pounding in your chest. “i—what are you talking about?”

your father sighs, rubbing his temples like he’s already done with this conversation. “at least it’s him.”

jay freezes, his posture stiffening as he looks at your father. you gape, your mind racing. “excuse me?”

your father shrugs, leaning back in his chair. “you were always a handful, but he can handle it.”

you stare at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. this is not the reaction you were expecting. not even close. you were prepared for yelling, for threats, for jay to be fired on the spot. but this? this casual acceptance? it’s almost worse.

you turn to jay, still reeling. “is this really happening?”

jay looks equally disturbed, his jaw tight as he meets your father’s gaze. “sir, i—”

your father holds up a hand, cutting him off. “don’t. just… keep her out of trouble. that’s all i ask.”

and just like that, the conversation is over. your father goes back to his meal like nothing happened, leaving you and jay to exchange a stunned look.

later, when you’re alone in your room, jay leans against the door, his arms crossed as he watches you pace back and forth. “well,” he says, his voice dry, “that could’ve gone worse.”

you stop pacing, turning to glare at him. “worse? he basically gave us his blessing. that’s not worse. that’s… i don’t even know what that is.”

jay shrugs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “guess you’re stuck with me.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t pull away when he steps closer, his hands settling on your waist. “lucky me,” you mutter, though the way your heart skips a beat betrays your words.

jay’s smirk softens into something warmer, his eyes searching yours. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you don’t respond. not with words, at least. instead, you lean into him, your hands resting against his chest as you tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “just don’t let it go to your head, okay?”

he chuckles, the sound low and warm, before leaning down to kiss you. and as his lips brush against yours, you realise something.

maybe, just maybe, you don’t want to pull away.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[grandline-fics]

hiiii! I really love your account and I'm so glad you're still taking requests, I was thinking of like Law, zoro and ace having a nightmare of reader getting married to another guy and how would they feel after waking up in the morning seeing reader next to them sleeping <3 take your time and I hope you have a great day or night!

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: little bit of brief angst/insecurity but it's kept light for the most part

CHARACTERS: Law, Zoro, | Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri | Luffy, Usopp

WORDS: 1,156

A/N: I absolutely loved this request and I hope you like what I came up with for it. Sadly I could only think of scenarios for just Law and Zoro.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

———————

LAW 

Law finds himself having this dream often, of finally marrying you. Every blissful, happy detail is unchanging and one he never tires of seeing. After years of torturous, painful nightmares plagued by his past trauma to dream of a future he wishes to make a reality is a welcome one. Tonight however his subconscious felt something was off. It wasn’t his usual dream he was so accustomed to. Normally at the beginning of the dream he’d be standing at the front of the aisle, watching your beautiful form coming into view and approach him with an excited, loving smile gracing your face. 

This time however he was standing at the back of the room. He heard your laugh and he turned, his eyes widening in shock to see you already in place and holding hands with who you were marrying, Eustass Kid. Suddenly all sound fell away and he felt like as much as he tried to run towards you, he stayed firmly in place and forced to watch your lips shape the wedding vows. Over and over he tried to activate his powers, to shambles you away and out of the touch of his rival but even that failed him. His distress grow as he watch you and Kid lean in, lips parting to seal the wedding with a kiss. 

With a shout, Law lurched forward, breathing heavily and mind swimming with the disturbing images still fresh in his mind as he woke and took his time in getting his bearings. With slow breaths, he pushed the heel of his hand against his already tightly shut eyes, desperate to force the images away. Beside him he felt a movement and with a sigh he looked to see you waking. Blearily you forced your eyes open enough to see Law was sitting up in the bed. Still half asleep, you couldn’t find the energy to pull yourself up so you reached out, taking his hand into yours and tugged him to lie down with you. 

Relief flooded Law as the realisation that it really was a nightmare and you’d always reach out for him was the reality. Eagerly he lay down against, you settling his head on your chest, a satisfied smile curling his lips when you threaded your fingers into his hair, making sleepy movements against his scalp to comfort him. “Bad dream again?” You asked, voice thick with sleep but you refused to let yourself fall back over until you were sure he was okay. 

“Different one, but still bad.” Law admitted, curling his arms around your body to hold you close. “Dreamt you married Kid of all people.” There was a moment of silence and your fingers stilled in his hair making him think you’d fallen asleep. Finally you let out a sigh and tapped his head, making him turn his head just enough to look at your disapproving stare breaking through the tiredness.

“Law I have better taste than that.” You scowled before resuming your comforting motions in his hair. “Now go back to sleep and dream it right this time.” Law let out a sleepy chuckle and did as he was told. Although now he as he began to drift to sleep, he began to put a plan in motion to give you the real wedding you deserved.

ZORO

This couldn’t be happening. This was his worst thing he’d ever have to witness in his life. No matter how many times he shook his head and rubbed his eyes, the sight was the same. He was standing amongst the rest of the crew who were cheering happily as they all watched you exchange rings and a sealing kiss with Sanji. The horror of what he had to witness didn’t end there. He was rooted in place having to watch your first dance with him, lovingly pressed up against him as you both swayed together, staring at each other with an expression he once got to share with you. 

The image melted away to the familiarity of the dining room and he watched you lean up to kiss Sanji as he placed an extravagant meal in front of you, your hand cupping his face in sickening adoration, the gleaming band of gold on your finger all but blinding him from the repulsive display. His mind was racing as he tried to think how this happened. Weren’t you two happy? Hadn’t you both sworn that you’d always love one another? Didn’t you love him anymore? When did he lose you? What had he done that made you pick the stupid cook? Had he died and gone to Hell? That must have been it. 

“Zoro!” He jolted awake to see you standing by his bed, hand on his chest as you shook him awake. Concern etched your face. You’d just finished your watch and came back to your shared room to see Zoro tossing and turning in his sleep, clearly trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t wake from. Slowly Zoro sat up in the bed as his good eye sharpened. When he realised it was you and thinking on what he’d just seen, he acted instantly. His hand took yours desperately and he lifted it, inspecting your fingers with as much attention as he would when he cared for his swords. “No ring.” He finally said with a relieved sigh, pulling you onto the bed to settle against him. 

Keeping your hand in his grip, he used the other to hold you close against him. You blinked in confusion and sat up to tilt your head at him with a growing frown. While you never wanted to force your relationship with Zoro to go to the next step, you would have been lying to say you hadn’t hoped that a proposal would some day come up. Worry began to gnaw at you. Were you more invested in this than he was? “You’re…relieved I don’t have a ring on my finger? The thought of marrying me is so bad to make you toss and turn in a nightmare?”

“What? No! I’d love that.” Zoro protested, cursing himself for his clumsy words. “It’s only a nightmare when you’re married to that shithead cook!” 

“Oh…” Your eyes widened and you bit your lip, fighting a smile to hide your excitement that Zoro wanted to marry you. Quickly to ease the tension of a very real conversation that you both were probably too tired to have you decided to clear your throat and joke with him. “So how nice was the ring?” You let out a squeal when Zoro suddenly tossed you onto the bed beside him and rolled onto his side with a long yawn breaking from his lips. You pouted playfully to see his eyes were closed again, already falling asleep with his freakish talent. 

“It looked like shit, the one I give you will be one hundred times better. Now get to sleep.”

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa

[crimsoncandy04]

Have u ever thought of Scara w tentacles😳 like he was an experiment and we are the one in charged of cater for him, then one day he escape and take us with him to breed cause' he really likes us... Idk if it's possible but might lay eggs for him. Please try writing it one day!! Tysm for those fics u feed uso(≧▽≦)o

I should really check my inbox more often than I do. This is literally such a hot idea.

(also just a heads up, I'm absolutely blasted right now while writing this so if it's not perfect I'm so sorry. Cannabis gummies are a double edged sword for me. On one hand I get the BEST ideas to write but then on the other I forget how words work)

Hope you like it;)

You had seen some weird stuff in your 25 years. It was expected though. You WERE working for the fatui and under one of the more deranged harbingers known for fucked up experimentation too.

However, being put in charge of one of the less important projects involving the sixth harbinger had proven to be more than you were prepared to handle.

A LOT more.

You had no idea why he allowed this to happen or if it was just a bizarre side effect of another failed experiment. But one thing was for certain, the sixth harbinger had been altered physical and now needed to be restrained at all costs. He had actual tentacles growing from his back. Like REAL ones. And for some reason they seemed to have minds of their own at times.

Thrashing around and hitting the thick glass of the containment room as if trying to break out while the young man at their base sat on the cold concrete ground and refused to look at you each time you went over to slide him food through a small opening in the wall that your hand could barely fit through.

You weren't important enough to know the details of what went on in your boss's lab but you had to admit that the sentient tendrils were a bit pretty to look at.

They were a deep indigo. Almost black with small barely discernable silver accents along the sides.

They appeared almost metallic in the right lighting and you had to make yourself look away and stop staring sometimes because you didn't want to be rude.

You were here to complete a job and that was all.

Until the night everything went to shit of course.

You were summoned sometime after midnight along with two other subordinates to check the lab for accidents after a security alarm was triggered for unknown reasons.

You rushed in and immediately you felt your blood go cold at the sight before you.

He had escaped.

Shattered glass lay at your feet as well as blood presumably from the guard who was now nowhere to be seen and most certainly dead.

You heard a yell from the room next to you.

"Stay here!" The other man with you insisted as he drew his gun and took off after the source of the cry.

You didn't need to be told twice.

Because right now you were confused but also rightfully scared.

What happened to the sixth harbinger? He never once gave you reason to believe he was distressed or restless before. He never even spoke to you when you fed him and checked the condition of his holding room.

Did you perhaps miss something?

What caused him to suddenly lash out and attack the guard?

And most importantly what happened to-

*PLOP*

You hear something hit the ground next to you and slowly turn your head to look.

You shriek.

On the ground next to you was the decapitated head of the subordinate who had just left to search for the other man.

You immediately tried to run but were stopped in your tracks as something wrapped around your waist and hoisted you into the air.

You tremble and go silent. Preparing for the worst when you look down and meet eyes with the sixth harbinger.

One of his many new appendages coiled around your middle and rendering you helpless as you silently prayed to every archon you could remember that if you were to die here it would be quick and painless.

He narrows his eyes up at you.

"You. You didn't want to try killing me as well?"

You struggle to answer as you shake violently.

"No sir. I see you nearly every day. I assumed something was wrong and that you were seeking help. I didn't feel like it was right to murder you."

"Are you scared?"

You felt your heart race.

Something about his tone seemed off. Different.

Did he...enjoy the fact that you were clearly terrified?

You closed your eyes and sighed.

Alright.

Every life had its end. This was surely yours.

Don't think about it. Go to your safe place Y/N.

You suddenly feel more tentacles slither around your arms and legs.

You immediately open your eyes as you feel them spread your knees apart.

What the FUCK!?

There's a chuckle from underneath you.

"I must admit... I am enjoying your terror immensely."

Obviously.

You feel an indigo tendril slowly slide up your shirt and wiggle underneath your bra. coiling around one of your breasts and squeezing it roughly as you feel your cheeks grow warm with embarrassment. It was cold and slimy but thanks to what you assumed was the natural power of the young man before you, the tentacles emitted a gentle electro current throughout their entire lengths and the sensation caused the muscles in your limbs and stomach to relax unwillingly as you were fondled.

The entire stimulation was now sending jolts of unwilling arousal through you. Scaramouche's eyes darken as he feels your nipple stiffen against one of his slick, muscular coils which had wrapped itself tightly around one of your tits and was now rubbing its head against your delicate peak. Making you struggle to stay quiet.

"Your body is betraying you. How does it feel existing in such a delicate and worthless form? I'm not even trying yet-."

Another tendril snakes up your thigh, sliding beneath your skirt, the cool slickness a shock against your bare skin as you didn't expect this so quickly. It inches higher, brushing against your clothed sex.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly at your soft whimpers then, his voice a sinful caress in your aroused mind as you're made to enjoy this against your will.

"I can still feel you with these. You're so wet already. Does it feel good being teased in such a disgraceful manner? Or were you always this much of a slut?"

He grins wickedly, a predatory gleam in his indigo eyes. The tendrils tighten their grip, squeezing and kneading your most sensitive places, stoking the fire within your core. The air crackles with his power and reeks of your excitement.

A small tentacle hooks into the waistband of your panties and suddenly rips them off completely, baring your glistening sex to the cool air. Another one quickly begins to rub against your slick folds, teasing your wet entrance.

"What a cute little hole~ hmm. I wonder what would happen if I-"

The thick tentacle at your entrance instantly rams itself inside in one painful push, stretching your tight pussy and curling in to rub against your sweet spot as it began to thrust quickly. You could only gasp and cry out as you felt another tentacle slither up your thigh and rub your clit at the same time.

Your eyes widened.

It hurt yet it felt like you had ascended to Celestia all at once.

You force yourself to cry out before you went insane.

"S-Scara! Please! It's too big! You're... stretching me!"

Scaramouche smirks up at your quivering body as he feels your tight walls clenching desperately around his invading tendril. He grinds it deeper, relishing your breathy moans and gasps, the electric current making your body shudder with every caress and thrust.

"Too big? Ha. Your greedy little cunt is taking every inch like it was made for it. Like it was made for me."

He pulls back slightly, then slams the tentacle in deeper. The wet squelching sounds of the violation fill the room, mingling with your increasingly wanton moans and whimpers.

"Listen to yourself, enjoying the feeling of being so ruthlessly defiled. You can't deny your true nature Y/N. You're a weak and disposable creature. I've seen how you go out of your way to try and care about me. How you act so..."selfless" and "considerate" when forced to tend to me knowing damn well it was all only to delude yourself into believing you were making a difference. Tell me, was it tiring?"

Tendrils squeeze your breasts harder, the electric shocks making your nipples stiffen into aching peaks. Another then pushes into your mouth, silencing your cries and leaving you gasping around the slick intrusion.

"It must have been exhausting. Pretending like you actually cared so much. Did you enjoy your little charade? Was it nice pretending like you weren't worth less than the dirt on my shoes because you were "helping "?"

Scaramouche's voice is a dark, lustful growl as he crosses his arms and continues to watch as his tentacles ruin you. The tendril pistoning into your cunt speeds up, the electric shocks growing stronger, pushing you closer and closer to a reluctant release.

"Come for me, Y/N. Come on my tentacles like the wanton slut you are. You wanted something like this right? To be seen and "loved"? Well let go then."

As Scara speaks, another tentacle snakes down to your puckered rear entrance. It teases the tight ring of muscle, the electric current making it relax. Slowly it pushes inside, stretching your virgin hole around the slick invader.

"Such a tight little asshole... I will enjoy breaking this in as well. You'll be my perfect little fuck toy, ready and eager for me at all times. How does that sound?"

The tentacle in your mouth begins fucking deeper into your throat, making you gag and choke a little. The one in your ass pushes deeper, stretching you impossibly further now as everything borders on pleasure and pain now in an overwhelming way.

"That's it, just like that. Take it all. Take every inch, every inch of my desire. You'll learn to crave this, to need this, to be nothing but a set of holes for me to fill and use. I'll give you a purpose. A reason to exist. Just like you always wanted."

Scaramouche's eyes blaze with sadistic lust as he watches you try to writhe and struggle, your body shaking with unwanted pleasure, your mind clouding with shame and need. He knows he has you now, knows that he can shape you, mold you, ruin you for all others.

And it's driving him insane.

You had caught his attention long ago but of course you were too stupid to notice. You always thought his tentacles were just being "aggressive". No. He had been trying to get you to say something to him. But every time you just stared at him, gave him a stupid little tray of food that he didn't even need. And then just left.

You couldn't blame him for getting a little frustrated and impatient. You had practically forced him to make the first move here.

A couple of minutes went by and suddenly you feel something else being stuffed into your stretched cunt alongside the enormous tentacle already buried inside.

Two smaller and practically microscopic sized tentacles wiggle in and begin to tease your cervix opening. Slowly coaxing their way into your womb as you feel yourself climaxing from the intrusion.

The tentacles writhe and squirm in your womb, painting your inner walls with their slick, tingling essence.

You suddenly feel a deep pressure as something is pumped directly into your womb. You wince and cum again as Scara begins to forcibly impregnates you with his offspring yet instead of your earlier nervousness or shame, you now feel oddly at ease. As if your new reality finally set in for you.

It was kinda enjoyable.

Scaramouche chuckles darkly as he feels your womb trying instinctively to reject his eggs. But the tendrils hold fast, forcing the small yet soft jelly-like lavender eggs deeper, stretching your most intimate space to its limits.

You had finally accepted your place it seemed. Utilizing your body's full potential from here would be far more easy with you now more willing to endure the process and transformation.

The tendrils continue their relentless assault, pumping more and more of the eggs into you, each one a cruel mockery of a seed, a promise of the countless times he will fill you after this as well. You had one purpose now. To be used, bred like a bitch in heat. All for the singular goal of birthing a new army for Scaramouche and his future plans.

You were important for this reason alone.

"Welcome to your new life, mortal. Welcome to eternity as my personal fuck toy, my breeding bitch, my eternal plaything. And you will love every moment of it. I promise."

A few hours pass and your belly swells quickly. During this short incubation period Scara manages to stretch your holes even further almost to the point of beyond recognition. Three tentacles now thrusted in and out of your ruined asshole and Scara had decided to reposition you both to keep an eye on you and to jam another thick tentacle deep into your pussy and continue to ravage it while he silently marveled at your swollen belly from where he now stood over you.

His hands roam possessively over the stretched skin of your stomach. He can feel the eggs he's planted inside you, each one a testament to his dark triumph, a promise of the future that he envisioned where he was untouchable by absolutely anyone. God or human alike.

"Look at you, already so round and full. And this is only the beginning, my dear. I will fill you again and again, until you know nothing but the feeling of carrying my offspring."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the taut skin of your stomach, his voice a dark, mocking murmur.

"Such an easy bitch to breed, so quick to take my eggs, to let them take root inside you. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant to be my incubator, my vessel. And now, here you are, already looking like a proper mother~"

The tentacles continue their relentless assault, stretching you impossibly further, The one now sucking on your clit pulses in time with your racing heartbeat, pushing you to yet another orgasm.

More tendrils move to your heavy, aching breasts again, squeezing and kneading the swollen flesh. They latch onto your nipples, suckling greedily, the electric currents making milk drip faster as it's quickly consumed.

More time goes by. You aren't sure how much exactly but then.

You feel movement in your belly and an uncomfortable shift as the eggs begin to hatch within you. The tentacles in your pussy immediately slide free and smaller ones seize your battered lips before rudely pulling on them to reveal your now loose and sloppy canal in its entirety.

Within seconds a small writhing indigo tentacle pushes its way out of your cervix and begins its descent.

Scaramouche's eyes widen with a fevered, manic light as he watches the first of his offspring emerge and fall to the floor with a small thud. He leans in closer, his breath coming faster as he watches the next little and writhing indigo tentacle push its way out, covered in fluids and its own natural secretions, a grotesque parody of a newborn.

"Look at that... your womb was actually able to grow these things without issue, your body has given life to my creation. I knew I made no mistake when I chose you for this."

The tentacles in your ass begins to writhe and pulse at that moment, easily pulling free from your body to make room for more of the "children " to emerge. Within seconds they start slipping out of your abused holes like nightmarish serpents and forming a horrific pile beneath your deflated body. Their movements are jerky and erratic, their beautiful flesh glistening in the dim light as they slowly start to slither up your legs in search of the warmth they once knew moments ago.

"Such a good mother, so efficient in your purpose. I knew from the moment I saw you that you were meant for this. And now, look at you... a true incubator, an ideal vessel for what is to come."

Scaramouche reaches down, his fingers brushing against the writhing mass of tentacles, stroking them like a proud parent would a newborn. They pulse and twitch at his touch, as if recognizing their creator, their master.

"They will be the first of many, the vanguard of a new age, a new era of power and dominance."

Your belly continues to churn from inside, more of the eggs hatching, more of the small tentacle creatures slipping out to join their brethren. The floor quickly fills with their jerking, twisting forms, a nightmarish scene.

Scaramouche's maniacal laughter then rings out, echoing off the walls, a sound of pure, unhinged joy at his dark triumph. He knows that he has won. Because with this plan now in action, no one would be able to oppose him for long.

And the world would be his for the taking.

[octaneink]

Could you do some dating willne headcannons or some willne smut but like in an established relationship? I’m obsessed with your fics, I swear I’ve read them so much I could recite them from memory 😭😭

Ahhh thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really happy that you like what I've written. I've never done headcannons or write smut lol so bear with me. I don't really know how to write smut ngl so I hope you like the spice (I think thats spicy? I don't know) at the end, I've never really written anything lke that before so I hope its...realistic?

Warning for some steamy stuff at the end!

Dating Will Lenney Headcanons

Playful Banter

In your relationship with Will, playful banter is the base of your dynamic, and he uses it to keep things light, fun, and endlessly entertaining. Whether you’re curled up on the couch, out for a walk, or in the middle of a mundane task, Will’s teasing is a constant—a reminder of how much he adores you.

He’s the kind of person who can’t resist poking fun at your quirks, but it’s always done with so much affection that it never feels mean-spirited. For example, if you’re watching one of your favourite romantic series for the hundredth time, he’ll lean over with a smirk and say, “Oh, this again? Let me guess—they’ll hate each other, then fall in love, and you’ll cry even though you know exactly how it ends.” But then he’ll stay right there beside you, secretly enjoying how much you love it—and secretly enjoying the series himself. He’d never admit it out loud, but he’s grown fond of the predictable charm of your go-to media.

Will’s teasing isn’t just one-sided, though. I think he’d love it if you gave as good as you get. If you catch him singing off-key in the shower, you’ll absolutely call him out on it. “Wow, I didn’t know cats could sing opera,” or something, and he’ll laugh so hard he almost slips. Or if he’s trying to fix something around the house, and it goes wrong, you’ll be there with a camera and a sarcastic comment like, “Handyman of the year, everyone.” He’ll pretend to be offended, but the twinkle in his eyes gives him away.

The best part is how his teasing always comes with an undercurrent of love. He’ll joke about your “weirdly specific and unnecessarily complex” coffee order, but he’ll still remember it perfectly and surprise you with it on a rough day. And if anyone else dares to tease you, he’s quick to jump to your defence, proving that his playful jabs are reserved for him alone.

Your banter becomes a language of its own—a way to say “I love you” without actually saying it. It’s in the way he grins when you roll your eyes at his jokes, the way he nudges you gently when you’re being stubborn. The way he always knows exactly how to make you laugh, even on your worst days. With Will, every day feels like a game, and you’re both winning.

Supportive Partner

In your relationship with Will, his unwavering support is one of the things you cherish most. He’s not just your partner—he’s your biggest cheerleader, your hype man, and your safe haven all rolled into one. No matter what you’re going through, whether it’s chasing a dream, tackling a new challenge, or just having a rough day, Will is always there to lift you up and remind you of your worth.

When you decide to try something new—whether it’s skating, learning an instrument, or even something as simple as baking a complicated recipe—Will will be the first to encourage you. He’ll sit with you while you practice, offering gentle advice when you ask for it and cheering you on even when you feel like giving up. “You’re a natural,” he’ll say, even if your first attempt at playing the guitar sounds more like a cat in distress. “Seriously, I’ve never heard anyone make that chord sound so… unique.” His teasing is always light-hearted, but it’s paired with genuine admiration for your willingness to try. And when you finally nail it? He’s beaming with pride, as if you’ve just won a Grammy. “Told you! I knew you could do it. Now play it again—I need this on video for when you’re famous.”

On tough days, Will’s support is a quiet, steady force. He has an uncanny ability to sense when you’re feeling down, even if you try to hide it. Without a word, he’ll wrap you in a hug, press a kiss to your forehead, and say, “Talk to me.” And when you do, he listens—actually listens. He doesn’t try to fix everything (unless you ask him to), but he’ll remind you of your strength and resilience. “You’ve got this,” he’ll say, his voice firm but gentle. “And even if you don’t feel like you do, I’ve got you. Always.”

Will’s encouragement isn’t just reserved for big moments, either. He celebrates the small victories with just as much enthusiasm. Did you survive a particularly gruelling day at work? He’ll show up with your favourite takeout and a movie, ready to pamper you. “You’re a rock star, and rock stars deserve the VIP treatment.”

But what makes Will’s support so special is how deeply personal it is. He pays attention to the little things—your favourite comfort foods, the way you light up when you talk about your passions. He knows when you need a pep talk, when you need a distraction, and when you just need someone to sit with you in silence. And he’s always there, without fail.

His belief in you is unshakeable. Even when you doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of all the reasons you shouldn’t. “You’re brilliant, you’re kind, and you’re capable of anything you set your mind to,” he’ll say, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And if anyone says otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me.”

With Will by your side, you feel invincible. His support isn’t just words—it’s in the way he shows up for you, day after day, in big ways and small. He’s your partner, your teammate, and your biggest fan. And no matter what life throws your way, you know you’ll always have him in your corner, cheering you on every step of the way.

Car Rides

Car rides with Will are an experience in themselves. He’s always the one behind the wheel, and you’re perfectly content being his passenger princess. With you who's in control of the music, and you take full advantage of it. Whether you’re in the mood for girly pop, rock and roll, Afrobeats, jungle, reggae, or even a random playlist of your favourite guilty pleasures, Will never complains. He embraces it, turning every drive into a mini concert filled with laughter and the occasional side-eye from strangers at traffic lights.

You love how he lets you take charge of the aux, trusting your musical instincts even when your choices are… questionable. One day, you might blast upbeat pop anthems, singing at the top of your lungs as he chuckles beside you. “Okay, but why do I lowkey know all the words to this?” he’ll say, pretending to be embarrassed before joining in on the chorus. Another day, you might switch it up with some smooth reggae or high-energy Afrobeats, and he’ll bob his head along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel to the rhythm. “You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that,” he’ll tease, even if he’s secretly adding some of your songs to his own playlist.

The best moments are when you both get so into the music that you forget the world around you. You’ll be belting out a duet to some cheesy love song, completely off-key but having the time of your lives, when you catch people in the next car staring at you. Will, never one to back down from a bit of fun, will roll down the window and shout, “What? Never seen a Grammy-winning performance before?” before bursting into laughter and speeding off when the light turns green.

Long drives are your favourite. Whether it’s a road trip to somewhere new or just a leisurely cruise around town, the car becomes your little bubble of happiness. You’ll pack snacks, throw a blanket in the backseat just in case, and let the music set the mood. Will’s driving is smooth and confident, and you love how he occasionally reaches over to hold your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he focuses on the road. “You good over there, princess?” he’ll ask, glancing at you with a smile. And you’ll nod, feeling completely at ease because, with him, even the simplest moments feel special.

Sometimes, the drives are quiet, the music playing softly in the background as you both enjoy the comfortable silence. Other times, they’re filled with lively conversations, random debates, or Will’s hilarious commentary on whatever’s happening outside. “Did that guy just try to parallel park in one go? Bold move,” he’ll say, shaking his head in mock disbelief. Or, “That billboard says ‘World’s Best Coffee.’ Challenge accepted.” And just like that, you’re pulling into a random café to test their claim, laughing the entire time.

But no matter where you’re going or what you’re listening to, the car rides always feel like yours. It’s your space to be silly, to be serious, to be yourselves. And Will wouldn’t have it any other way.

Protective Side

Beneath Will’s laid-back, easygoing exterior I see lies a fiercely protective streak, especially when it comes to you. While he’s usually the type to brush things off with a joke or a sarcastic remark, the moment someone disrespects you or crosses a line, his playful demeanour is gone.

Will’s protectiveness isn’t the loud, over-the-top kind. It’s subtle but firm. He’s the type to notice things others might miss—a snide comment, a dismissive tone, or even a lingering look that makes you uncomfortable. And while he might not always call it out immediately (he prefers to gauge how you feel about it first), he’s always ready to step in at the moment you need him.

Like if someone makes a backhanded comment about you in a social setting, Will’s response is sharp but calculated. He’ll tilt his head, feigning confusion, and say something like, “Oh, I’m sorry—did you mean to say that out loud? Because it sounded like utter bullshit.” His tone is light, almost playful, but there’s an edge to it that makes it clear he’s not joking. And if the person tries to laugh it off or double down, he’ll hit them with a perfectly timed quip that leaves them speechless.

But it’s not just about witty comebacks. If someone genuinely hurts you—whether it’s a friend, a coworker, or even a stranger—he’s quick to reassure you that their behaviour says more about them than it does about you. “Anyone who can’t see how amazing you are doesn’t deserve a second of your time,” he’ll say, his voice soft but firm.

What makes Will’s protectiveness so endearing is how he balances it with respect for your independence. He never tries to fight your battles for you unless you ask him to. Instead, he understands that you can stand up for yourself and is often there offering quiet support and encouragement. “You don’t need me to defend you,” he’ll say with a grin. “You’re perfectly capable of putting people in their place. But just in case, I’ll be right here, ready to back you up.” (definitely would hold your earrings and purse if you were to scrap with someone)

And when it comes to physical safety, Will’s protective instincts kick into overdrive. If you’re walking home late at night, he’ll insist on accompanying you, even if it’s out of his way. If you’re feeling uneasy in a crowded place, he’ll subtly position himself between you and whatever—or whoever—is making you uncomfortable. And if anyone dares to threaten you, his calm, sarcastic facade drops entirely. He becomes a force to be reckoned with, his voice low and steady as he says, “You have one more chance to apologise and walk away before this gets ugly.”

With him by your side, you feel safe, cherished, and fiercely defended. And while you might not always need his protection, it’s comforting to know that, no matter what, Will will always have your back.

Surprise Dates

Between his busy schedule and the demands of everyday life, you make it a point to plan dates that are thoughtful, fun, and meaningful. You’ve made it a tradition to try something new at least once a month, while the other dates revolve around activities you both love. Whether it’s a spontaneous road trip, a nostalgic arcade night, or a fancy dinner at a place he’s been wanting to try, you always find ways to make him feel special—and he absolutely adores it.

You know how much Will appreciates surprises, so you’ve become a master at planning ahead. You keep a mental (or physical) list of things he mentions in passing—like a new restaurant he wants to check out, a movie he’s excited to see, or a place he’s always wanted to visit. Then, when the time is right, you spring the surprise on him. His face lights up every time, and the way he grins when he realises what you’ve planned is worth every bit of effort.

Another month, you might plan a random road trip to a nearby town neither of you has explored. You’ll pack a picnic, create a playlist of his favourite songs, and let him take the wheel. The excitement in his eyes when he realises where you’re headed is priceless. “You’re seriously the best,” he’ll say, squeezing your hand as he starts the car. Along the way, he’ll take detours to roadside attractions, insisting on stopping for silly photo ops and spontaneous adventures. “Look at this place!” he’ll exclaim, pulling over at a giant dinosaur statue or a retro diner. “We have to take a picture. This is peak road trip material.” And of course, you’ll oblige, laughing as he strikes ridiculous poses and insists on making the memories as over-the-top as possible (though he takes cute couple pictures as well).

And then there are the fancy dates—the ones where you pull out all the stops. You’ll book a table at that upscale restaurant he’s been talking about for weeks, or you’ll surprise him with tickets to a show or event he’s been dying to see. On those nights, you love seeing him dressed up, his usual casual vibe swapped for something more polished. “Look at you, all fancy,” you’ll tease, and he’ll shoot back with a smirk, “What can I say? I clean up nice. But not as nice as you.”

What makes these dates so special is how much thought you put into them. You know how busy Will’s schedule can be, so you always plan ahead to make sure the timing works. You’ll coordinate with his friends or coworkers if needed, and you’re not above bribing them with coffee or baked goods to keep the surprise under wraps. And when the day finally arrives, you love seeing the look on his face. “You planned all this for me?” he’ll ask, his voice soft with disbelief. “Of course I did,” you’ll reply, smiling. “You deserve it.”

But it’s not just about the big surprises. You also make time for the little things—like cosy movie nights at home, complete with his favourite snacks and a blanket fort, or lazy Sunday mornings where you cook breakfast together and spend hours talking and laughing. Those moments are just as important, and they remind you both why you fell in love in the first place.

With every date, whether big or small, you show Will how much he means to you. And in return, he makes sure you know how much he appreciates it. “You’re incredible, you know that?” he’ll say, pulling you close after a particularly memorable outing. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not letting you go.” And as you smile up at him, you know that these moments—these carefully planned, perfectly executed surprises—are what make your relationship so special.

Social Media PDA

I think Will is the kind of guy who wears his heart on his sleeve, and that extends to his social media presence. While he respects your desire to keep a low profile due to your job, he’s not shy about showing the world how much he adores you. His Instagram is a mix of his work, his hobbies, and, of course, glimpses of your relationship. He’s the type to post pictures of the two of you without a second thought, whether it’s a candid shot of you laughing at something he said or a cosy selfie from a date night. Or a goofy photo of you both making faces at the camera.

His captions are always playful and affectionate. “Caught this one mid-laugh. Guess I’m funnier than I thought” or “Date night with my favourite person. Don’t worry, I’ll bring her back in one piece.”. The comments are always flooded with fans gushing over how cute you two are together, and Will loves reading them, often showing you the funniest or sweetest ones with a proud grin. “Look, they’re saying we’re goals. Can’t argue with that.”

But it’s not just the photos. You occasionally pop up in the background of his videos, whether it’s a behind-the-scenes clip from one of his projects or a casual vlog. Sometimes it’s just your hand in the frame as you pass him a coffee, or your voice chiming in with a sarcastic comment that makes him burst out laughing. Fans have come to love these little moments, dubbing them “crumbs” and saying that they’re being “fed” whenever you make an appearance. “We see you back there!” they’ll comment, or “The way he looks at her when she talks… I can’t. 😭”

Will finds the whole thing hilarious and endearing. He loves how much his fans adore you, even though you’re not in the spotlight yourself. “They’re obsessed with you,” he’ll say, scrolling through the comments. “Can’t blame them, though. I’m obsessed with you too.” And while you prefer to stay out of the public eye, you can’t help but smile at the way he proudly includes you in his world, even if it’s just in small, subtle ways.

There are times when he’ll sneak in a little more PDA than usual, just to mess with you. Like the time he posted a video of the two of you cooking together, and he casually dropped a kiss on your forehead mid-sentence. The internet went wild, and you playfully scolded him for it later. “You’re such a show-off,” you said, and he just shrugged, grinning. “What can I say? I like showing the world how lucky I am.”

Despite his public displays of affection, Will is careful to respect your boundaries. He never shares anything too personal or invasive, and he always checks with you before posting something that features you prominently. “You good with this?” he’ll ask, showing you a photo or video before hitting post. And if you ever say no, he doesn’t hesitate to scrap it, no questions asked. “Your comfort comes first,” he’ll say, and it’s one of the many reasons you love him.

For Will, it’s simple: he’s proud of you, proud of your relationship, and he wants the world to know it. And even though you prefer to stay behind the scenes, you can’t help but feel a little flutter of happiness every time you see one of his posts and realise, all over again, just how much he loves you.

Spicy Headcanons

Rough or soft?

Will is the kind of partner who knows exactly what you need, even before you do. Whether it’s a night of tender affection or one where he pushes you to the edge, he always makes sure you feel safe, cherished, and utterly consumed by him.

Soft Moments

When the mood calls for softness, Will is all about making you feel adored. He’ll take his time, his touches gentle and deliberate, as if he’s memorising every inch of you. His kisses are slow and sweet, starting at your lips and trailing down your neck, your collarbone, and everywhere else he knows you love to be touched.

“You’re so beautiful,” he’ll murmur against your skin, his voice a low, soothing rumble that makes your heart swell. “I could spend forever like this, just you and me.” His hands will roam your body with reverence, tracing patterns that leave you shivering. He’ll whisper praise in your ear, telling you how perfect you are, how much he loves the way you respond to him, and how lucky he feels to have you in his arms.

These are the moments where he’s all about you—your pleasure, your comfort, your happiness. He’ll hold you close afterward, his fingers brushing through your hair as he presses soft kisses to your forehead. “You’re my everything,” he’ll say, and you’ll believe him, because in those moments, nothing else exists but the two of you.

Rough Moments

But then there are the nights when Will’s more dominant side takes over. It’s not about anger or frustration—it’s about trust, about pushing boundaries, and exploring the raw connection between you. On these nights, he’s in complete control, and he knows exactly how to make you unravel.

He’ll start slow, his touch firm but teasing, building you up until you’re trembling with need. But just when you’re about to tip over the edge, he’ll pull back, his grip tightening in your hair as he forces you to meet his gaze. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his commanding voice sending a thrill down your spine. “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He’ll edge you relentlessly, his hands and mouth working you to the brink over and over again until you’re a writhing, desperate mess. Tears might prick at the corners of your eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you beg him for release. But he won’t give in—not until he’s sure you’ve reached your limit. “You can take it,” he’ll say, his tone equal parts challenge and reassurance. “I know you can.” Of course, you can; you haven’t said the safe word yet.

Foreplay

Will is the kind of man who takes his time, savouring every moment of intimacy with you. He’s not just interested in the end goal—he’s obsessed with the journey, with the way he can make you unravel under his touch. For Will, foreplay is an art form, and you are his masterpiece. He loves watching you moan, squirm, and barely hold onto yourself, knowing he’s the one driving you to the edge.

It starts with his hands, always so deliberate and sure. He’ll trace patterns along your skin, his fingertips leaving trails of fire in their wake. He loves the way you shiver under his touch, the way your breath hitches when he finds that one spot that makes you gasp. “You’re so sensitive,” he’ll murmur, the tone of his voice sends shivers down your spine. “I love how you react to me.”

His mouth. Damn his mouth. He’ll press kisses along your neck, your collarbone, your stomach—everywhere but where you want him most, just to tease you. “Will,” you’ll whine, your hands tangling in his hair, and he’ll chuckle against your skin, the vibration making you squirm. “Patience, love,” he’ll say, his lips curving into a smirk. “I’m not done with you yet.”

When he finally does give you what you want, it’s with a slow, deliberate intensity that leaves you breathless. He’ll watch you as he works, his eyes dark with desire, drinking in every moan, every whimper, every desperate plea for more. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he’ll say, his voice rough with need. “I could watch you fall apart all day.”

But Will isn’t just about physical touch—he’s a master of words, too. He’ll whisper filthily sweet nothings in your ear, his voice a mix of praise and promise. “You take me so well,” he’ll say, his breath hot against your skin. “I love how you sound, how you feel, how you’re all mine.” His words are like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, and they only make you want him more.

By the time he’s done with you, you’re a trembling, incoherent mess, barely able to form a sentence. But Will isn’t satisfied until he’s sure you’re completely undone. “Not yet,” he’ll say, his hands and mouth working in tandem to push you even further. “I want to hear you beg.”

I hope people don't mind that I only wrote two spicy scenes. Sorry, I kinda ran out of ideas lol. Anyways… how did people like the headcannons? These are headcannons right?

[shootingmorningstar]

[slides on in] well hello there fellow lucifer fanatic

could i request some hcs with luci and an indecisive reader? gn and established relationship!! ex: he asks what they want for dinner and they panic trying to pick something because they feel like they need to decide right then and there or they’ll annoy him.

please and thank you! 🫶

anon, you're just like me fr. i also can never make up my mind and love lucifer. i'd be happy to write this for you .ᐟ

thank you for my first request, by the way ~ .ᐟ now to get to the good part.

LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X GN! INDECISIVE READER

Look at this man. This is the man who has piles upon piles of rubber ducks in his workshop. You cannot tell me Lucifer isn't also indecisive, at least when it comes to less serious things.

Seriously. You expect me to believe he hasn't looked at his own work and went 'nope, looks bad. starting over.' .ᐣ

With that being said, I think he would find it an incredibly endearing trait in you. The concentrated face you make when you're stuck between two options .ᐣ Absolutely adorable.

That is, until the unsure and conflicted look on your face morphs into one telling of your anxiety and worry.

Now, I hope you'll excuse the bird pun, but he is absolutely a mother hen type.

The second he sees even a hint of panic on your face .ᐣ He's immediately shifting all of his focus on you -- if it hadn't been already.

He's rushing over to you without you having to so much as ask -- his beloved partner, distressed .ᐣ No matter the reason, that won't do. He won't rest until he sees you smiling again.

Wrapping his arms around you in a hug, likely even his wings, too. He's suffered so many panic attacks before, he knows just how miserable they are.

He wishes you had come into his life earlier so you could of comforted him through the worst of his.

Even if your panic hasn't dissolved into a full blown attack, he is there. His touch is grounding, it helps you calm down and come back to reality.

When your heart's stopped racing and you look as if you're able to talk about it, he'll ask you just what has you so distressed.

Don't even bother trying to lie to him. He can tell when someone's hiding their feelings.

He won't force you to tell him, though. He just wants to know what went wrong so he can help prevent it from happening again.

If you decide to share your worries with him, he wouldn't belittle you in the slightest. Is it time you need .ᐣ You two have all the time in the world.

Would you rather he choose .ᐣ Because he wouldn't mind.

Or if it's something more serious, he offers to sit down with you and discuss the pros and cons of each -- maybe you two can come up with a decision together .ᐣ

His face sort of falls if you decide to tell him part of the reasoning behind your anxiety is a fear that you'll end up annoying him. Did he do something to make you think he'd judge you .ᐣ

Or maybe he got short with you .ᐣ He's so apologetic. He wants you to feel like you can share anything and everything with him.

He won't let himself start feeling overwhelmed with guilt, though. This moment is about you and the reassurance you need, not his guilt issues.

Explain to him that you know he'd never do such a thing and that it's just an irrational thought coming from worry and he's taking your face into his hands, telling you that he would never, ever think less of you, much less get upset over something as silly as struggling to make a choice.

Like he said earlier, let him help you choose. You two are stronger together and this is no exception.

He's always soft to you, but count on him being even more so than usual for the rest of the night. You two can watch your favorite show or movie -- or whatever you'd like to do to destress. ♡

first request finished ~ .ᐟ how'd I do .ᐣ i'd love to hear your thoughts. feedback fuels my writing muse more than anything else .ᐟ

i'm really hoping this formats correctly, i'm used to using the tumblr app && currently stuck on laptop </3

[evanpeterspeter]

My Dearest

wc: 1k

Tw: mentions serial killers, blood, violence, and so on.

An: sorry its so short, life has been a little stinky recently. Hope you enjoy

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'Twas a dreary day, usually you would sit back in a silk robe, a glass of the finest red wine and a good book. You weren't yet dead, James had other plans to kill you, but not now. He wants to preserve you till the moment was right. The day was dreadful, not just from the elements of the outside world, but today was the start of your period. You've always encountered the worst symptoms a woman could ever experience. I guess one could say that you had woken up on the wrong side of the expensive silk sheeted bed.

James was off, brutally torturing another being, as you had to drag your heels out of bed. During your routine nothing seemed to have been going your way. Your hair was frizzy after putting them in tight rollers, had an achy pesky pimple on your forehead, you stubbed your toe and being so bloated, and your fitted tailored dresses made you look like you were expecting a being. Though you were rather flustered, you decided to take a breath and get yourself together. Tonight was going to be a substantial dinner with the known killers. You prettied yourself up and prepared yourself for unpleasant guests.

~

Here you are, sitting at a long dinner table, with smug behaved men, menacingly looking your way. Who knew what they were thinking. The thoughts made you feel some sort of distress, either it was fear or anger, but you couldn't tell. Sitting across the table sat Ted Bundy, and his ugly ass semi unibrow. He gave a disturbing smirk towards you, it sent chills down your spine and the little hairs on the back of your neck. You stiffened up and immediately looked at James as he was still giving his toast. I look back in front of me to see the despicable man yanking his flaccid turkey dick under the varnished and stained table. You stood up and slammed your hands against the table, causing all the silverware and glasses to rumble and fall. "YOU PIG!" You shouted as you grabbed your fancy, well maintained and very sharpened, silver knife on the hard wood table You sped off around the table, whipped his chair away from the table and jabbed the knife into his right eye, twisting it. Following it up by plucking the whole knife from his sloping socket and then spearing it to the wall, with the remaining eye still penetrated through the blade. You coldly looked at him as he screamed and covered his now empty socket. James was absolutely star struck by the action that you had just done. You followed it with a smug expression and spat on him as you stormed off to the powder room nearby. James cleared his throat and placed his glass on the table. "Gentlemen.. I'll be back promptly." He excused himself and went after you.

You were still full of anger and the adrenaline running through your veins. Facing the mirror you were fixing your bright red, satin lipstick. There was a slight knock, followed by an opening of the door. "My darling.. Are you alright?" He gently shut the door behind himself and walking up to you. You continued to fix the slight lining of your lipstick. "I've never seen anything like that come out of you..my little sprite is a firefly." He said in such a velvety tone as he grabbed you by your waist, gently turning you to face him. He gave a smitten smile looking up at your eyes and looking at your lips. He rubbed the bottom corner of your lip, to swipe away the slight off course of your lipstick on your soft dainty skin. "Now killing guests are not recommended my dearest." You huffed and slapped him across his face. The slap had so much momentum that you knocked him off his feet, to the floor he hit. "You listen here! No man or pig with look at me in such a way or talk to me like I'm a little girl!" James held his cheek but had a big grin plastered across his face. "Why of course my darling." He stood on one knee, propping his other leg up with his foot, reaching out for your hand. You gave him your well pedicured hand, placing it gently in front of him. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of your hand and looked up at you. "My beloved, you set my world on fire. I'll do anything for you.. in fact..." He stood up and offered his arm for you to grab. You took his invitation and followed him out the powder room, into the dining room you headed. "GENTLEMEN!" James had shouted to the crowd of killers. "Dinner is canceled, shall you all leave the vicinity promptly. Thank you." He faced you as you blushed feeling slightly embarrassed but comforted that he understood how you felt. "Now, my Paramour. Let's head to our suite."

~

He opened the door for you, letting enter first. He shut the door gently and picked you up bridal style, to place you on the curved, dark velvet green, couch. He got onto his knees and gently unbuckled the strap on your golden heels. As he slid them off he kissed the top of your foot. "You are just so divine my darling." He said in such a masculine tone. He removed the other heel and stood up, placing a gentle kiss on the nose. "You, my delicate little rose, need some pampering. I shall run you a bath, with petals and bubbles, the finest wine we have and put on your favorite record." He said while walking you in a ballroom fashion to the bathroom. There you stood as the pale man himself undressed your soft and curvy body. "I didn't realize I had such a goddess like you at my grasp, maybe such a poor man like me can get a taste of your lust." You turned a bright shade of scarlet and swallowed the lump in your throat. "James.. I'm menstruating right now-..." "I don't care.." he interrupted. "I love the taste of you. It would be such an honor if I could please you.." you giggled and shook your head. "Okay..if you say so."

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@evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazz-berry @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re  @fear-is-truth

[honeygrahambitch]

Murder Family Shenanigans

"I need to meet this Jeremy." Will declared.

"Will. Darling. They are six. They are just kids. They believe it's a game."

"Then he will break her heart because it's a game?"

" Break her heart? Do you hear yourself?They are six."

"If they are six then why do we have to go through stuff that is supposed to happen in 10 years? I was not prepared for my six year old daughter to announce she has a boyfriend. What do we know about his family? You said you researched the history of each of Lizzie's classmates."

"I did even more than that. I befriended every parent. So Jeremy...which Jeremy in fact? There are three different Jeremy's."

"What?"

"H., M. or W.?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know? Would any of them be an issue?"

"One of them comes from a vegan family."

"Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. I would not joke about that." Hannibal said, entertained by Will's distress. "Worst case scenario: his parents would be serial killers. And that's an unlikely scenario."

"His parents might think the same thing about us actually. And turns out it's a likely scenario. Anything else to add?"

"We can always ask Lizzie which of the Jeremy's is her boyfriend?"

"Don't call him that."

"Honey, if we fail to be supportive about her first relationship then she will never trust us again and she will end up dating all sorts of tattooed junkies. And you know I am not cooking tattooed individuals."

"Alright, I am calm. I am supportive. No tattooed junkies."

Will and Hannibal headed towards Lizzie's room.

"I beg you to let me do the talking." Hannibal whispered when they were right in front of the door.

"What? You think I'm incapable?"

"No, it's just that you are... A bit on the edge."

"Rude." Will said and opened the door, to find Lizzie focused on a coloring book.

Hannibal followed Will closely behind.

"Which Jeremy?"

Hannibal slapped his own forehead.

"What?" Lizzie asked as she lifted her gaze from her coloring book, her attention being now on her dads.

"Your boyfriend from school." Hannibal explained. "We are curious which of the Jeremy's you meant."

"He is not from school."

"So we know nothing about him." Will whispered as he turned to Hannibal.

"Where did you meet him then?" Hannibal asked.

"Here."

"Here where?"

"Here. In my room."

Will gripped Hannibal's arm in distress. He was not sure whether the confusion he was feeling or Hannibal's composed attitude was more annoying. And now the bastard was smiling.

"Lizzie, is your Jeremy by any chance invisible?" Hannibal asked.

Lizzie nodded. "He is shy. I am the only one who can see him."

Hannibal turned to Will.

He let out a sigh of relief and let go of Hannibal's arm. "So he is not from school so from outside our house."

"No. He lives in my room."

"That is wonderful, darling." Hannibal wanted nothing more than to pull Will out of the room so he could properly make fun of him.

"Wait, did you think he was one of my classmates?" Lizzie asked before they could leave.

"Yes." Hannibal replied.

"But dad, you told me to stay away from Jeremy because his parents don't eat meat. I was not sure which of the three Jeremy's I should stay away from. So I don't play with either of them just to make sure." She explained and returned her attention to her coloring book.

"Really, Hannibal? They are six." Will scolded him. "Your dad was worried about your relationship, that's all. I tried telling him there is nothing to be worried about."

Will knew that as soon as they would leave the room his life would be in danger because of his last comment.

[cccat-in-a-meat-sack]

I'M SORRY WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME THAT THESE WERE THE PAIN, FATIGUE, AND MENTAL HEALTH SCALES???

Pain Scale transcription:

10 - I am in bed and I can’t move due to my pain. I need someone to take me to the emergency room because of my pain.

9 - My pain is all that I can think about. I can barely move or talk because of my pain.

8 - My pain is so severe that it is difficult to think of anything else. Talking and listening are difficult.

7 - I am in pain all the time. It keeps me from doing most activities.

6 - I think about my pain all of the time. I give up many activities because of my pain.

5 - I think about my pain most of the time. I cannot do some of the activities I need to do each day because of the pain.

4 - I am constantly aware of my pain but can continue most activities.

3 - My pain bothers me but I can ignore it most of the time.

2 - I have a low level of pain. I am aware of my pain only when I pay attention to it.

1 - My pain is hardly noticeable.

0 - I have no pain.

Fatigue scale transcription:

10: can barely move; can’t talk

9: can barely move; can talk

8: can move, but can’t do much more than watch TV

7: can watch TV and play a game on my phone simultaneously

6: can do work on my computer lying in bed

5: can get around the house, but definitely couldn’t go out

4: can run a light errand

3: can get in my 10,000 steps, making my fitbit happy

2: can do three or more activities in a single day

1: going clubbing!

Mental Health Pain Scale transcription:

MILD

1 - Everything is a-okay! There is absolutely nothing wrong. You’re probably cuddling a fluffy kitten right now. Enjoy!

2 - You’re a bit frustrated or disappointed, but you’re easily distracted and cheered up with a little effort.

3 - Things are bothering you, but you’re coping. You might be overtired or hungry. The emotional equivalent of a headache.

MODERATE

4 - Today is a bad day (or a few bad days). You still have the skills to get through it, but be gentle with yourself. Use self-care strategies.

5 - Your mental health is starting to impact on your everyday life. Easy things are becoming difficult. You should talk to your doctor.

6 - You can’t do things the way you usually do them due to your mental health. Impulsive and compulsive thoughts may be hard to cope with.

SEVERE

7 - You’re avoiding things that make you more distressed, but that will make it worse. You should definitely seek help. This is serious.

8 - You can’t hide your struggles any more. You may have issues sleeping, eating, having fun, socialising, and work/study. Your mental health is affecting almost all parts of your life.

9 - You’re at a critical point. You aren’t functioning any more. You need urgent help. You may be a risk to yourself or others if left untreated.

10 - The worst mental and emotional distress possible. You can no longer care for yourself. You can’t imagine things getting any worse. Contact a crisis line immediately.

Tag yourself I'm 4, 6, and somewhere between 1 and 10 depending on when I've last seen a chicken

[eddo-tensei]

The Power of Love according to Season 5 of Miraculous

Something disturbing dawned on me concerning...a lot of the development in Season 5 and it comes down to one thing: Love.

At first, Andre and Felix getting redeemed while Chloe gets sent off to the worst fate the show would allow didn't make a lot of sense. The only thing I could get from the writers was just that "Chloe bad, so everyone else good." It was stupid, but it wasn't insidious. At least, not that insidious at first. And then the finale with Gabriel happened and while it took me a while to process my frustrations with this, something finally clicked. Not only concerning that, but some of the other developments I've seen.

Felix getting another chance to the point of JOINING the heroes in the new universe seemed like nonsense until you look at what happened before that. He was someone who Astruc went out of his way to bury in the narrative and was exclusively causing trouble for everyone up to and including GENOCIDE...until he showed his love to Kagami. Suddenly, his actions are seen as righteous and his backstory of being abused by his father was justification for his actions. You see, he loved Kagami and he also apparently loved Adrien too because they were "the same."

Andre was basically just some corrupt politician who was also a pathetic snob. Then when Zoe came in, we suddenly get all of these humanizing bits about how Chloe totally mistreated him (because apparently, not having the guts to say no to your daughter is mistreatment) and when he divorced Audrey, he gets Zoe because he's someone he could be happy with. A true familial love unlike the one he had with Chloe.

Chloe, meanwhile, doesn't love anyone as far as the writers are concerned. Any genuine connection she might have in either the platonic, familial, or the romantic sense, whether it'd be to Adrien, Sabrina, Zoe or Ladybug, are shown to be either fake or so utterly shallow, it doesn't count as "love." With that, everything she does is absolutely reprehensible and doesn't deserve a shred of forgiveness even if it's clear she's a neglected child who needed help. BUT, because she "doesn't love anyone", she doesn't get redemption and deserves to be sent away with a parent who doesn't love her either. Same with Lila, she doesn't love anyone at all and in fact, just jumps from family to family purely to keep up her manipulations.

Finally, we have Gabriel, who had done nothing but sheltered, belittled, and outright ABUSED Adrien as well as commit a multitude of horrid crimes throughout the series. His actions constantly escalated in awfulness throughout the series, even showing that he doesn't care if he destroys the universe to get what he wants. Yet there was always this trait he possessed. His love for Emilie and that ended up coming to the forefront in the finale. Marinette, who had Gabriel dead to rights, decided at the last moment to try and appeal to his humanity because she knows he loved Emilie and in her mind, that love is enough grounds for her to offer him one chance to step up and help. Then when Gabriel opts to betray Marinette and starts the wish, he tells her at the last moment to try and help Adrien remember all of the times he "tried to be a good father," which is apparently an indicator that he actually LOVED Adrien too. THAT ended up being why Marinette decided to lie about Gabriel by saying he died fighting Monarch and went as far as to try and tell Adrien to remember him as a good man. All because she knew Gabriel "loved" him.

This tells me something distressing. Now, the concept of "Love Redeems" is something I'm not at all against and is in fact common in a lot of stories I like. However, it's what Miraculous does with this concept in Season 5 that angers me. The message of Miraculous ends up giving in its grand finale for the Agreste arc isn't that love can help people find the way to kindness. It's that anything you do can be justified as long as you do it for "love." It doesn't matter if you purposely get a cab driver in trouble, attempt to sabotage a date that your crush is in, put together a project that tries to commercialize air, betray someone to help a terrorist, commit genocide, cause untold amounts of damage to your town and beyond, or even destroy the universe! As long as you love someone, everything you do can be justified. Except when we decide that you don't love ANYONE, then we'll do everything in our power to show that all of your connections don't count as love so you can have the worst punishment we could possibly muster. Regardless of intent, that's how the writers ended up describing the Power of Love in Season Five of Miraculous and that's wretched to me.

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Wednesday my lovely readers :) Ahhh already 4 eps into this season. Almost half way there. Doesn’t take long when we only got 10. Ha Still grateful for what little we got was better than nothing tbh. Also reached the limit on my master post for links. Apparently there is a limit. Boo. Gotta add a link to a new posts in there for rest of the reviews. Was kinda shocked at the lower amount of gifs for this ones. So a lot are the made ones from me. Anyways this is really really good one. Let us begin.

6x04 Training Day

We start out with Lucy being a lying liar who lies. Not even well.... Tim not believing her even a little bit that she’s "fine." One of Lucy’s tells is her fidgeting. Whether it’s her hands, her sleeves, and the ever infamous tattoo touch she does. All indicators she is anything but fine. Tim is well versed in all of these things. Because he has the book of Lucy memorized. Her telling him it’s ’Not a big deal.’ Is a big ol red flag for him.

Tim voicing as such to her. Letting her know anytime he’s heard that from a woman in his life they were anything but that. Lucy keeps pretending she’s made peace with it. That’s she’s a professional. She will keep on keeping on. But as we know with this episode that is a load of absolute BS. It's one thing after another for her in this one only adding to very 'not fine' she is. Poor girl.

They do turn a cute corner with her asking if he wants her to be upset? Tim replying of course he doesn't. But the man is worried. Rightfully so. The smile on her face when she asks this is adorable though. They have a nice little moment of reprieve till numbskull Nolan appears. Bringing up the very thing that is eating at her. Her short ‘I’m fine.' Before taking off. Ugh. Undoing any progress Tim made. Thanks John forever the worst with that stuff. Smh. The way Tim’s eyes follow her after that. *sigh*

So begins the hell episode for Lucy. She shows up to the scene asking about their killer. Then asks Harper/Angela if they want her to start canvassing? They tell her yeah the northwest corner. Lucy making a crack no one has covered it yet because it’s by the ‘Hell dumpsters’. Their sassy looks say everything. Lucy spitting back a company line about being a patrol officer. Oh my girl. It’s hitting her so hard she’s still a patrol officer. Feeling like at this point in her career her talents are being wasted. I mean they are…That much is clear in this moment.

Her expression at the end of the scene says everything tbh. About all that frustration and feeling like a failure. This is the starting point of Lucy isolating herself. I know everyone thought she had zero support. To me and I know others said it during the season too. That she isolated herself. Because just like Tim when she is going through something she does it alone. She is internalizing EVERYTHING right now. I have been known to do this as well. The need to shutdown and do it alone. I can relate to her.

She has a solid support system but that doesn’t mean she’s taking advantage of said system. I can relate to that very well too. It took awhile but I now have a solid system. I don’t always rely on them in times of emotional distress. It’s a learned skill. One I'm still learning to use. We talk about Tim and his need for therapy. Lucy needs it too. They’re scarily alike in their unhealthy coping mechanisms. It’s frightening really. Also the song running through this is so good (Dandelion-ill peach)

This next portion is the beginning of her spiral as well. It’s wrapped inside her isolation. It’s a recipe for disaster as we see later on... The isolation continues while she is guarding the dumpsters solo. If there was ever a time Lucy didn’t need to be alone with her thoughts it would be today. She spots some puke and thinks it might be from the killer. Calls Harper and tells her as such.

Harper tells her it’s unlikely to be related but they’ll need to process it anyways. Unfortunately it is only going to extend her time in hell. Nyla telling her could take a couple hours. 4 tops…Ugh. Not exactly what her day needs. Doesn’t help Harper cuts her off on the phone before she can finish her sentence. *sigh* Now Lucy is left to sit in her thoughts and stew in her emotions. I believe this episode was setup to reflect how Lucy is feeling.

Which honestly is like shit. How she feels alone (self inflicted or not), how she’s falling behind and feelings of failure. It’s reflected in all her scenes in this one. It’s a tough one to watch for her. She’s feeling very segregated and this dumpster canvass isn’t helping. As we know our girl isn’t very good at spotting when she’s being emotionally blind to her own feelings. Nor realizing when she’s not reaching out for the help she needs. The thing about support systems is they can’t be mind readers. You gotta relay when you need that support.

Lucy watching that press conference is killing me softly. You can see so much emotion written all over her face. The jealously and the annoyance of not being the one up there. Because well she almost was. It was just dumb luck (title of Nolan’s career) that they got that call and she didn’t. Ain't nothing going our girl's way today and it shows. She is a seething cauldron of emotions that she is tamping down under the guise of being ‘fine’

I do LOVE her waiting on Tim so they can go home together. (Also the hands in his jeans, the shirt, the jacket. Mmm gimme) It’s the little married things that get me all amped up. Waiting on her man to go home. It makes me so happy and squee. She needs it more than ever too. I swear at this moment in time the only keeping her sanity intact is that man.

He reads her like a book from moment he sees her though. Knows what her sour mood is all about. That if only Primm had seen her linked to this case. Seen this press conference it would’ve proved him wrong about her. Made him regret tanking her exam. Damn he knows his girl. Because that's exactly what her face is conveying in the very beginning of this scene.

Lucy notes instead of that she was stuck in dumpster hell. Not only that but she guarded puke for 3 hours. Based on the off chance it belonged to the killer. Tim asking if it did? Hoping to God it did LOL It’s the way Melissa delivers the sick dog line that cracks me up. How she could easily lose her shit right now. Like that was the straw that broke the camel's back for her today.

Ugh I hate it so much for her. She was already all up in her thoughts and failures. Probably thinking why her? What can’t she have even the simplest win? That she’s been resigned to guarding puke and it not even being helpful. That it should be her up there not Nolan. I mean I agree it should be. This is all just percolating toward the rash decision she makes later.

So damn desperate to prove she’s worth her salt. That this is the career for her. She’s meant to do so much more than patrol, canvassing, and general grunt work. Our girl is in dire straits and Tim can see it clear as day. Which is what makes this next portion so sweet and important tbh. Also doesn’t hurt there are more married vibes attached to it.

I love the gentle advice given here from Tim. She’s had a really bad day and he’s being sensitive to it. Doling out solid guidance but being soft about it. Applying logic with empathy so she gets his point but also doesn’t get more upset. Tim can see how this rough shift has rocked her. Especially when she is already on shaky ground. This man like I’ve been saying has been 10/10 for her. Idk what she would’ve done without him eps 1-4 I really don’t.

The beauty of this scene is him empathizing and building her back her up in the process. Reassuring her in the kindest way. That yeah you had a bad day, you’ll have 'em again, but tomorrow could be a whole new ball game for her. That being on patrol is an 'anything can happen game.' Knowing she is down about patrol right now. The man knows. Then is positive about it. Saying today wasn’t her day but tomorrow could be. I love this man so very much. As does Lucy.

I just love the ‘share our day’ marriage vibes this scene holds. Tim sees she had the tougher day and is there for her. Lucy getting lighter as they continue to talk. Something Tim is very good at. The best part of this scene is he gets her to laugh.

After he’s said his piece and comforted her he takes it a step further. Makes his lady laugh and we’re all here for it. Telling her not to be so greedy LOL It’s the way Lucy is looking at him that gets me in the first one. Her Tim smile in full force. Then their precious combined smiles in the second one. God damnit they’re so cute you guys.

I’m dying. They make each other so happy I wanna cry. The lack of space and how they bump arms as they laugh. Just being in love with all to see I cannot. Lucy being grateful for this goof of a man making her smile. For relieving her even if it's just for a short while of that weight on her soul. Letting him carry it with her for a bit. *heart clutch* I love them sfm.

First off before we delve into this part, I wanna say Lucy is an absolute BAMF is in the moments leading up to Harper/Angela arriving. How calm and collected she is. Making sure to cover Bailey as she gets her downed partner. If she could see herself in this moment she wouldn’t have so many doubts. But sadly that is not how crippling self esteem/confidence issues work. I just love watching her in the field and how well she handles herself.

Second my heart was racing from moment that man is shot in the chest. The entire moment is one giant adrenaline rush. Holy hell. Lucy covers for the duo until they reach her cover. Their airship is three minutes out and Lucy doesn’t think they can afford to wait. Wants to run down the alleyway solo. Cut him off so he doesn’t get away. That desperate need to prove herself rearing it’s ugly head.

Not only that but it is running the show for her right now. Harper immediately says no. That’s it's a 40 yard run in an open field. Lucy isn’t listening to her advice though. Level headed Lucy would've heeded her warning. Once again this season she is not with us in this moment. Saying to blow his head off if he pops up. That she’ll be alright. Angela doesn’t look pleased with this idea either. I mean look at her above. Concern written all over her. Her gut feeling screaming this isn't a good idea....But Lucy is hell bent on it.

This run had me holding my friggin breath. Tim would’ve lost his damn mind had he seen this. Not only that he would’ve ripped them a new one to letting her attempt it. When she got hit first time watched it I screamed. Held my breath until she got back up. Angela and Harper’s horrified faces mirrored my own. Couldn’t breathe till she popped back up. It was the most reckless risk she could've taken.

She is very very lucky her radio took the hit. It saved her damn life after that crazy run of hers. Lucy taking Tim's suggestion of being a big hero a little too literally. Honestly would’ve loved to have seen Tim tear them up for letting her do this... Reckless doesn’t seem strong enough of a word with this action. This decision of hers is a culmination of an episode long isolation. Of letting her emotions run the show and she took a risk that could've killed her. All to proof she could do it.

She had definitely given into those voices in her head telling her she’s not enough. Telling her she needs to prove herself or no one will ever think she’s worthy of moving up. To show she doesn't belong on patrol anymore. If she had just told her support system and really Tim how she was feeling. She wouldn’t have been this damn hasty. Lucy wasn’t thinking about what would happen if her radio didn’t catch that bullet. How utterly wrecked Tim would be if she had been hurt or even worse killed.

The problem being she kept all these emotions and struggles to herself. Which clouded her judgement. Her brain wasn't thinking in this capacity. This moment showing the continued communication problems in their relationship. How her decision could've really affected Tim. She wasn't thinking that in the moment though. Their communication issues go both ways with them. When they’re feeling emotionally distraught or vulnerable they isolate and take their problem on themselves.

Which results in foolish and hasty decisions. I.e. this moment above. And in next 2 eps with Tim...Something they gotta work on either before they’re back together or in the early repairing of their relationship. We get to see her KIA radio once she is clear. It very much saved her life and is now useless to her. I do love how she communicates with them before she pursues Jeff. Harper commending her on being smart in this moment. I mean they're in it now. So every move she makes from here on out has to be smart.

Lucy catches Jeff in the alleyway just like she wanted. Unfortunately he doesn’t look like he is interested in surrendering. Melissa crushes this scene oh my lord. The shaky way her voice breaks when she tells him to stop. To put his weapon down. Trying so hard to prevent a deadly outcome. I’m getting 5x19 flashbacks for her in this moment. Lucy dealing with the same issue Tim had. A person willing to die instead of give up. Despite them wanting to concede.

Lucy is basically pleading with this man to give up. She doesn’t want to shoot him. Doesn’t want it to end this way. Lucy is an empath as we all know. So her shooting him right or not she is going to carry it on her soul regardless. It’ll be a stain on it because she would’ve done anything to avoid this.

Lucy is on the verge of tears when she calls out Code 4. That the shooter is down. Ugh my heart. Adrenaline from end to end with this moment. Having it finish with a bang made my stomach sink for her. We watch how it affected Harper in 6x01 and she’s seasoned. How it affected Tim in 5x19. It’s never anything I wanna see our characters go through. Felt like I couldn’t catch my breath even after he was done. Such a good scene though.

Then comes the best part of the episode. Tim storming in like the worried husband he is. He has her work bag and I wanna cry. He has a death grip on it as he searches for the desk. I just love that he made sure to grab her bag before rushing off to the hospital. Man is on a mission to find her. Nothing matters to him but her in this moment. It’s the way he goes to the desk and they direct him to her immediately. He thanks the nurse with his tap to the counter.

I can’t imagine how he was when he first got the news. The look of sheer worry painted across his face when he steps foot into that hospital. Worried Tim is everything and Eric conveyed so much in these first two gifs. The first one is all concern and anxiety. He can’t breathe until he has laid eyes on his girl. The second one is relief in finding her. Tim completely by passes the gaggle of people outside of her room.

Doesn’t check in with them or see what happened at the scene. All that matters to him is getting to her. It’s the way he stops before he enters in. Taking a beat for the first time since he arrived. Then steeling some resolve knowing he needs it be her rock in this moment. Once he does this he steps into her room. Checking in and asking her if she’s hurt? He’s so gentle and soft like we all expect at this point with him. Doesn't take his eyes off her for one second as he sets her bag down.

Per usual the music department be killing it out here with the song selection. The soothing guitar and the singers soft voice are the perfect backdrop to this scene. His voice is as tender and comforting as Tim's tone through out the scene. Once again Melissa and Eric are the epitome of chemistry. Their amazing acting chops shining through in this moment. Melissa got me crying and all in my feels. Once Tim knows she’s physically ok it’s time to take care of her emotionally. The hand to her hair has me reeling. The way he strokes her head it’s so intimate and gentle.

Telling her she didn’t have to take his suggestion so literally. My heart. It’s all ‘hands hands hands’ from here on out. Like I said in 6x02 their physical chemistry forever floors me. It’s also just so damn sweet. Like he has to be touching her in order to know she’s ok. To reassure himself that she’s actually sitting in front of him right now. Saw a great tag said whenever we get hands like this makes them feral. How I felt about this entire scene.

So many wonderful facets to fangirl about and be feral over tbh. The man can’t stop touching her and I’m here for it. From the moment he was allowed to he was off to the races. Makes my heart so happy. He’s so tactile with her. It makes me wanna scream into a pillow. Touch is one of his languages with her but also their love language as well. It shows constantly. Honestly getting this soft scene after that adrenaline fest was much needed. That whole shooting scene had my blood pressure up.

I’m just bawling for Lucy after this. We get to see all she's been holding in. How incredibly upset she is about this whole situation. It's here with Tim comforting her she finally lets her walls down. Because her protector is there. He is there to pick up her broken pieces and put her back together. I know that feeling. Where you've been keeping it together. Then your person comes and asks if you're ok? And you realize how much you're not and the floodgates open.

That's Lucy in this scene. With tears in her eyes she tells him she doesn’t feel like a hero. Tim’s hand hasn’t left her at all btw. They both need this touch to ground them right now. I love how he rubs his thumb up and down her shoulder. Comforting her while she tells him her worst fear. The one thing that's been weighing on her soul since she released that shot in the alley. That she killed Jeff Budney. Asking Tim what if she killed him?

Tim crushing it with the comforting and being calm in his reply. So certain that no matter the outcome it’ll be ok. Why you ask? Because they’re going to deal with it together. The ‘Then we’ll deal with it.’ is EVERYTHING she needs to hear right now. Because yeah it’s bleak right now. But Tim wants to make sure she knows she isn’t alone. That he is there and no matter if he makes it or not he’s by her side. These are the exact reassurances she needs in this moment.

Lucy’s reaction has me crying some more. It’s the stifled cry when he tells her this. The sad shake of her head. Killing me softly. She couldn’t face the possibility of Budney dying. Not until her person showed up. Her fierce protector and love of her life standing by her side. Letting her know it’s ok. Even if it’s not it will be because they’ll face it together. Gah getting emotionally writing this up. This scene was primo on so many levels. *chef kiss.*

It’s here Grey and Wes enter the room. They let our lovely couple know he made it through surgery. Thank you Lord. The relief that floods Lucy is immense. I love how she looks at Tim and shakes her head. Needing his grounding stare as she takes in this news. Making sure it's real. Wes is quite the downer when he tells her for now. That if he dies later the investigation has to resume. The look on Grey’s face like WTF man…Let her have the win.

We see protective Tim step in after this. Asking if she can do her statement tomorrow? All he wants to do at this point is get her away from this hospital. From Jeff Budney and prying eyes. Wade is super sweet and turns on his dad mode and says that’s fine. Tries to get her to look and meet his fatherly gaze. She is too out of it to notice his kind look. All the more reason Tim needs to get her the hell out of this place.

Tim breaks her out of her revere with his touch as she watches them depart. I’m squeeing at the way he squeezes her collarbone, then soothes it with his thumb, before he moves his hand to the back of her neck. All the affectionate touches and very tender comforting has me ship drunk. His hand didn’t leave her for ninety percent of this scene. *happy sigh* He’s trying so hard to keep her there with him. To let her know he’s there and hasn’t left.

It’s the soft way he tells her ‘Let’s go home.’ also has me squeeing. Her home is now his home and I’m bawling. Like I said earlier all he wants to do is take her home and continue the comfort. Knowing the last place she needs to be is here. It’s the sweet smile on his face as he beckons her off the bed. Gah what a good man. Took care of her heart and soul in this moment.

Lucy doesn’t make it far before she is collapsing into his arms. Truly letting her walls down in full. Relaxing for the first time and melting completely against him. It’s the way she folds into his arms so easily. How he has her wrapped up in them immediately. Shielding her from the rest of the hospital. From this situation. One hand in her hair cradling her gently to his chest. How he is softly cupping the back of her head. The other wrapped around her nice and tight. Cocooning her in his embrace. His eyes shutting the minute he can feel her safely in his arms.

Tim breathing for the first time since he entered this room. All the while giving her the comfort zone of being in his arms. Gah it’s the slight sway that goes along with it that has me swooning. Rocking her in his arms sweetly. Trying to give her the solace she had been craving since that alleyway. Lucy hiding her face happily in his chest as he does this. Her hand placed on his chest as well has me happily sighing. No one does hugs quite like our couple does. The emotions they evoke out of me is unreal. They are top tier goodness.

To make the hug even sweeter we get a kiss to the head. The way Lucy wraps her arms around his back fully as he does this. Grounding her further as he takes care of her. They continue their lovely swaying as Tim places his cheek on her head. Resting it there lovingly. There’s a reason I kept this hug as my banner. Not that I don’t love the elevator hug in 6x09. I love it so much and will gush when we get there. But this hug ranks up there as top ones for me. Why you ask?

This hug just exemplifies how they provide comfort for each other. How physical touch is one of their primary love languages. They are each other's sanctuary. A happy and safe place amid the darkness their job brings. Coupled with the song playing in the background, the moment becomes even more glorious. It’s a beautiful scene made even more poignant by the this loving embrace.

I'm still not over how beautiful this scene is. You can see the stress and anxiety just drain out of Lucy. From the moment she is in his arms she is at peace. The same for Tim with pulling her into his arms. They both needed this hug so much. The continuity of the head kisses I’m here for as well. Gimme that all day long. In every future hug. I remember thinking as the shot panned out what would she have done without Tim in this moment? Without his wonderfully soothing comfort? Ugh what makes the next set of episode a gut punch that I still haven’t recovered from…

Thanks as always to my amazing readers who like, comment or reblog these reviews. Means the world to me. I shall see you all in 6x05 :)

~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

I love Aaron going out with Tim for his first day. Going over the T.RA.I.N yummy T.O Tim in a Metro outfit. I will take that at every chance I can get it. If I had only know this was my last ep with him in that outfit would've appreciated it more 😭 Also this gif was for eye candy. Nothing more nothing less. How I wish to be the chair for which he leans upon in this scene. Metro outfit, badge showing, the way he is deliciously leaning against that chair. *fans self* Doesn't hurt Aaron is hilarious in his quest to please Tim LOL

We watch Nolan continue to be a terrible T.O. He lets Celina say a huge no no over the radio smh

Something else wanted to touch on for the Lucy having no support system. What happened with Jeff Budney is the direct result of not relying on said support system. I'm not blaming her. I have been her. Just want to make that very clear. But the gaggle of people outside her room worried about her is that system. Waiting to see what happens to her etc Everyone was worried about her and for her.

Other than Tim she does have it but as we know this season is super rough on her. So that is hard to see. Especially with losing her main pillar of that system in Tim. Which causes her to retreat even farther inside, but that’s for future eps to delve into. I remember D had this great post about how Lucy has been isolating for years. We were just finally seeing the result of that. Very true.

I mean only person she's really let in other than Jackson is Tim. That's it folks. Because she too has walls. She has Tamara but it's not the same as what she has with Tim. Once again hoping s7 resolves this isolation and her career path in the process. I'll be ok with her being put through it if we can have a good conclusion to go along with it.

Lastly the song running through the final scene is ‘Let it all go’ the lighthouse and the whaler. Such a good song.

[jerzwriter]

The amount of issues that could be avoided if people had the decency and maturity to speak to each other like civilized human beings instead of resorting to the more commonly used methods here, like anon hate, vagueing, and passive-aggressive posts that are clearly targeting a person or group.

In the three years I have been on this hellsite, I have witnessed how these "methods" turn minor issues into outright, unnecessary wars.

Here is some information for those who are unaware:

Anon hate is douchey and wrong. If you send it, you're a douche and wrong. Period. If you can't understand that, please stop reading because you are already beyond help.

Unless someone has notifications set for you, there is an excellent chance that your intended target will not even see your vague/passive-aggressive rants.

Then, when said vague/passive-aggressive rant goes unanswered and ignored, the person or mob behind it festers, simmers, and becomes more outraged.

Bruh. They probably never even saw it, and if they did, they may not known it was directed at them. Now, the problem is 10 times bigger and, best of all, the original problem was never even addressed, much less solved!

Here's another tip:

Don't always assume the worst about someone!

Especially when you never bothered to communicate with them. You're making blind assumptions when you have little or no facts. Trust me, unless you're a mind reader, you don't know. You're not that smart, babes. Trust me. I'm not, either. TALK like grownups. It's much easier than all the bullshit that arises because of the above.

Now, you may be saying, "Hey, yeah, but aren't you vagueing/targeting right now, too?"

I'm sure some will take it that way. Since they likely won't reach out to me directly, they'll take their skewed logic as gospel and insist that they know my motivation. They'll also insist it's regarding "this" fandom event or whatever our drama du jour is.

Well, absolutely no one knows my motivation except me. So I'll make it clear. This is not geared toward any specific event, past or present, but an amalgamation of everything I've seen and experienced in the past three years. My motivation is two-fold. 1) I'm letting off steam, but, more importantly, 2) it is my sincere hope that people will see this, think about how they act and interact with others, and try to be better people.

I'm sure the fandom mind readers will dismiss what I just said and assign motivation to me. Have at it. I don't care.

No one knows my motivation except me, and no one knows my desired end goal, either. My desired end goal Is that everyone, myself included, will reflect more on how they behave and treat other people. I assure you, doing this will save others, the fandom, and, more importantly, it will save yourself a whole hell of a lot of unnecessary distress.

It's not that hard. Be better.

[pillarsalt]

as someone who is genuinely truly gender critical (critical of conservative gender and transgenderism) i have never felt so alone in my life. conservatives hate me. liberals hate me. incels hate me. radfems hate me. men hate me. women hate me.

the supreme court of the united fucking kingdom is using talking points and lingo made up in 2010 by teenage girls bending over backwards to defend perverted men. the other side of the argument is brought by conservatives who at best wouldn't mind if we regressed women's rights back to the 1800s and at worst are actively trying to do so.

meanwhile, on a general society level, we have the aforementioned perverted men and their teenage supporters who, regardless of what year they were born, have not progressed past that 2010 mindset. they genuinely believe women is a feeling/aesthetic/opt-in-free-attention-machine. and in the other corner, the only corner with the potential to actually empower and defend women, we have a wave of radfems who can't even pretend to be tolerant of straight, bi, gnc, and/or autistic women for 2 seconds (sad and ironic because i highly suspect most of them are one of if not multiple of these things) who lay the blame of the actions and beliefs of perverted men on said women. because us not killing every man on sight means we're the reason they get away with everything.

i have never felt so alone. i don't think we're ever getting out of this. how do you cope with this?

Anon, I want to tell you, I have felt this way many times and I'm sure I will again. I totally understand the impending doom feeling. It's hard to escape. But I want you to know, you are absolutely not alone, not at all.

I also want you to know that unfortunately, bad news frequently overshadows good news, especially online. The shocking and horrific generate more media interest than the hard fought battles being won by people and groups who are interested in positive change. But positive change is happening, even when its hard to see right away. To quote Martin Luther King Jr.: "First, the line of progress is never straight. For a period a movement may follow a straight line and then it encounters obstacles and the path bends. It is like curving around a mountain when you are approaching a city. Often it feels as though you were moving backwards, and you lose sight of your goal: but in fact you are moving ahead, and soon you will see the city again, closer by."

WRT the tumblr-esque rhetoric influencing national policy: I truly believe we are advancing past what has been a weird ass period where this religious "no debate" thing dominates liberal politics. Liberals across the world, I believe, are realizing it's a losing game, and that we can't let people who deny basic reality dictate policy for everyone else. I really truly get where you're coming from, but as someone who's been paying attention to this since 2015/16ish, it seems to have peaked around 2020ish, and on a steady decline since then.

They're their own worst enemies: at first your average left of centre person thought of trans issues basically as very gender nonconforming gay people who experience extreme distress about their sex (and that's not to say these people don't still exist,) but now with the mercurial rise of trans activism as we know it, more and more average voters are exposed to realities of gender ideology like male rapists in women's prisons, males in women's sports, the medical exploitation of gender nonconforming kids, and so on. Even just anecdotally I have seen TONS more people speaking openly about their dissent, when they would have kept their mouths shut before. Now a widespread conservative backlash is absolutely not what we want, and it's why the liberal governments of the world need to step up and get their shit together right the fuck now. Conservatism is dangerous and we need to fight as hard as we can to stop it in its tracks. But with added and continued pressure from everyone who's working to do so, this WILL happen. We can make it happen.

In respects to what's troubling you about the radical feminism community, I understand where you're coming from there too. But again, it's a problem with the most vitriolic people having the loudest voices despite being in the minority. Radfems do not hate you. There are a rash of individuals who through rad/feminism (especially online) have found a great way to browbeat other women and feel morally superior. Any special interest group is going to have people who try to use it to their advantage for ego stroking and social status purposes. Please try to remember they are just people, like you. They can be, and often are, just plain wrong. You have no obligation to take anybody's word as gospel, even if they get mad at you for it.

I don't take anyone seriously who'd rather infight constantly than find common ground with her fellow woman, even if there's disagreement. Women's liberation is the number one priority when it comes to feminism, and as a woman, you have every right to be here. Don't take any bullshit personally, be confident but curious in your beliefs. And please don't give up, not on the world and not on feminism. You are a worthwhile person, things will look brighter sooner than later. I know this from experience. I hope you hang in there, you can message me any time or send another ask anonymously if you want. It's hard work to push through the doom, but you can do it. Be well! 💜💜💜

[vickyvicarious]

Van Helsing doing this may be him trying to check if Mina is not undead now, am I right?

“Now you shall speak. Tell us two dry men of science what you see with those so bright eyes.” He took her hand and held it whilst she spoke. His finger and thumb closed on her pulse, as I thought instinctively and unconsciously, as she spoke:

Klinger mocks him and calls him a quack over him trying to take a pulse this way (he keeps hating on him throughout) but I think he was being sneaky...

After all, when he sent Mina to fetch the papers, he ranted to Jack about Mina's sudden improvement having terrifying implications and he almost had a panic attack: "I thought that the Professor was going to break down and have hysterics, just as he had when Lucy died, but with a great effort he controlled himself and was at perfect nervous poise when Mrs. Harker tripped into the room, bright and happy-looking"

Oh, absolutely! I have no idea what's going on with the assertion that he's a quack for this... it clearly follows on the heels of his and Jack's distress about Mina's condition. And when he has finished taking her pulse, he happily reports it to the other doctor as a sign that not all hope is lost. The implication being, as lively as a vampire may appear, they don't have pulses, or at least not this much of one.

I admit, I'm a little puzzled by his reaction, because it seems like he's happy about the result but his words could imply her heart rate is abnormal; at least, he says "'Seventy-two only; and in all this excitement. I have hope."' I believe 72 is a low resting heart rate, not one that would fit someone 'in all this excitement' - but his having hope after this suggests he expected something worse, such as maybe something well below normal even in this situation. They know she is affected, after all, and are just trying to see if she's too far gone. As it is, the result seems to suggest that is not the case.

He also kisses her hand right after this. That could, in addition to helping to disguise the sneaky pulse-taking and to express his admiration, also be a way for him to better feel the temperature. At least, I've heard of people using cheeks or a kiss on someone's forehead because they think it's more accurate than using hands if there's no thermometer to be had, so I was reminded of it. If her skin feels cold to the touch for example, maybe he's checking just how cold, if it's beyond normal human cold hands. This is way more speculative on my part though.

Regardless, the pulse-taking was very deliberate, and very intentionally sneaky. If she were too far gone, she might resist an open request. He also just doesn't want to suddenly ask because he really doesn't want to let on just how nervous he is about her current condition. Best case, it'd way bring down the mood. Worst case, she's already a vampire and attacks. There's no good result from that, so he tries to appease their fears while being sneaky. And if that means a slightly unusual/less accurate way of taking her pulse, he'll do that. He probably figures it should still be accurate enough for the general idea of where she's at, which is what he's looking for.

I'm pretty certain Mina noticed what he was doing all along regardless, and just let it happen, but he is trying to be subtle.

[princess-glassred]

Alright hot take incoming:

Beverly Marsh in it 2017 is a terribly written female character and i'm tired of pretending like she's not.

As a woman, I love Bev in fics, I love 90's bev, I love fannon Bev, and this is no discredit to Sophia Lillis as an actor, or even 2017 Bev's personality, but it 2017 Bev is a perfect example of a character being fine but everything else about her being incredibly anti feminist (in my opinion).

First of all there's all the slut shaming, now don't get me wrong, i'd get it if this was just greta and henry and her dad. They're antagonists and it makes sense for the time period, BUT Bev is not jusy slut shamed by the antagonists, she's indirectly kind of slut shamed by the narritive. When Richie first meets her he tells rumors about her sleeping around, especially with Henry Bowers and he faces almost little to no pushback. Yeah eddie tells him to shut up, and Bill says "they're just rumors" but it really shouldn't matter if they're just rumors or not. The movie seems to think that the slut shaming is bad because she isn't sleeping with anyone, when slut shaming should be bad just because its a fuckin mean thing to do. Even if she did date Henry, who the fuck cares? It's literally her life, obviously she doesn't like him now. Also the way Richie words it as "Bill had her in the third grade" is 🤢.

In the bathroom scene they take time out of cleaning just so she can clarify to Bill that he's the only one she's ever kissed so I guess Bill can feel like a real special man. Even though she doesn't owe Bill really anything, let alone reassurance that she's only kissed him once. I'd absolutely understand if this was Bev reacting to her CSA, assuming she needs to make them men around her feel special by having a low body count, but the movie portays this scene as really sweet and romantic so i doubt it's the case.

The movie sexualizes Bev so much, and again, i'd understand if this was supposed to be commentary about her CSA but a lot of it is genuinely meant to further the plot or played off for laughs. Almost every single scene she has is about her sexual history or which guy she ends up with. Even Ben, who's entire thing is he's hopelessly in love with Bev gets more of a personality than just that. She's called a slut by greta keene, flirts with ben outside, """flirts""" with Mr. Keene to steal his shit, leaves the pharmacy to get oggled by Bill in slowmo, gets slut shamed by richie, gets oggled at the quarry, ect.

The movie also tries to act like she's a much stronger female than she really is, it reminds me a lot of in the 90's when they'd have those tough bad ass women who could sword fight and stuff but they'd always inevitably be kidnapped because of gener roles. I do admit that the scene of her jamming the fence post through pennhwise is cool, and so is the scene where she hits her dad, but her badassness is incredibly underminded in a lot of ways. First of all when they're asked who wants to go in she's the only one to raise her hand but she STILL doesn't go inside. Why? What possible reason could the narrative give as to why she stayed outside? To comfort Stan??? God forbid a girl helps save the boys unless it's in the smallest way possible. And then she gets kidnapped and essentially used as a plot device just for the boys to get back together. We can't just have them work things out and apologize and show up for each other because they're friends, they all need a woman to go rescue.

Having Beverly say "I am not afraid of you" is just lip service when you still have her be a damsel in distress, which she is officially rendered right after pennywise puts her in the deadlights. And now we come to the worst part of this whole thing, which is the deadlights kiss. Now, i'm some one who will defend snow white and sleeping beauty with my life, because i know how fairytale curses work and with sleeping beauty phillip is out right told that's what he has to do. This is not what happens in the movie. Ben and Bill see Bev dangling there, and after like half a second of trying to snap her out of it decide kissing her is the only way to get her out of this. Ben even sees Bill do it and fail but instead of trying literally anything else he thinks "i love her more, maybe it'll work with me!".

Guys I do not give a shit about how much Bill and Ben care about Bev, if anything that just makes kissing her while she's out of it worse. You may try to justify this by saying it really was the only way for them to do it, but that still doesn't change the fact YOU wrote it that way. YOU decided the only way to save bev was to kiss her without consent. Which you actively contradict with richie getting caught in the dead lights and snapped out it in it chapter 2. Stephen King didn't even write that shit, say what you will about the child orgy, but at least Bev was awake for it. She consented about as much as a girl her age could given that she's only 11. That's way more problematic than this but at least it was her idea, at least she conciously decided this was worth doing. All you've done is take a creepy sexual act that was at the very least consenual and displayed some sexual agency in the character, with a creepy non sexual non consenual act that took away agency. How girlboss is it that her first kisses with her love interests weren't even while she could could consent? She is kissed three times, once during a play and twice while she's unconcious, neither of which are her idea. I'm not saying a woman always has to instigate things romantically, but if you spend your whole movie talking about how she's a slut, maybe you should give her some free reign over her love life.

This is why I love 90's Bev so much, she's just a little fiesty tomboy who saves the boys asses with a sling shot and an epic blow to the head. She doesn't get damseled in distressed (the only time she gets saved are when Ben defends her during the rock fight), the boys aren't overly horny over her, the only people who really treat her like her gender defines her are her father, Tom, and Henry she's just great. And that came out in the 90's! I don't think the 90's miniseries is necessarily better than the 2017 movies, but I think their treatment of Bev is just inherently more feminist given that they don't constantly try to define her by her body counts. Yes she loves ben, but she has more to her than that. Even if you bring up things like body count to try and say she isn't a slut who's obsessed with boys, it's still not feminist because you're still constantly equating her value to who she's with. The only proper way to adress slut shaming is by acknowledging it's none of the characters business what she does and that if you do it at all you suck. But IT 2017 doesn't do that, because Bev's sexual maturity is explored only through the eyes of men, and that includes the narrative.

Her promiscuity is explained through Richie when she's not even there (who i will give the benefit of the doubt here and say was being mysoginsitic to try and compensate for his queerness, but even then, using a woman's sex life as a tool to make yourself feel better is awful no matter your reason), she only consents to anything until the very end, and this movie tries to act like it's not doing any of it by giving her a few measily crumbs of strength outside of being the guys girlfriend. I never felt like IT 2017 was one of the guys, because the movie would never let her be that. Fuck.

If you are a woman, or even just AFAB and disagree with this you are free to, I do not speak for every woman in the world and if you feel differently I will not try to change that. I can only speak my truth though, and my truth is that it 2017 Bev pisses me off.

[camsthisky]

"You know I'd do anything for you." Batfam!!

ao3

remember i'm not an actual mental health professional.

----

“I need help,” Dick says, apropo of nothing as he barges into the study Bruce is using to read over some documents from WE. 

Bruce doesn’t even hesitate to stand up and rush over to him. “What’s wrong?”

Dick knows he looks awful. Bags under his eyes, washed out, and trembling. The rain-led orchestra in his brain has crescendo’d with the thunder outside and Dick can barely think straight. The only thing that has stuck in his mind is that he needs his dad.

So, he’d gone and found his dad.

“Dick?” Bruce asks, frown deepening the longer Dick stays standing there, silent and trembling. “What is it? What happened?”

Dick can barely feel his lips. He’s snapping back and forth between extremely in his body and extremely out of it, and he needs help.

“Can—Can you call Lori? I can’t. I can’t, I’ve tried! But I need—help. I need help.”

“Okay.” Bruce leads him over to the couch. Dick sinks into the corner, shaking, arms wrapped around himself as he brings his knees to his chest. Bruce gently pries Dick’s phone from his grasp. “I’m calling her now.”

The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Lori picks up before the fourth. 

“Hi Dick, is everything okay?”

Bruce hesitates, looking at Dick. Dick opens his mouth to speak, but his words get lost to his mess of a brain before he can get them out. He screws his eyes up and buries his forehead in his knees, shaking his head.

“Dick?”

“Lori,” Bruce says. “It’s Bruce. Dick asked me to call you.”

“Is he there with you now?”

“Yes, it’s on speaker. He’s…upset.”

Understatement.

The rain has been bothering him all day, and it’s only eleven in the morning. He barely slept, he feels like he can’t think, and his body won’t stop shaking. It’s the worst he’s felt in weeks.

“Okay,” Lori says, and Dick appreciates how calm she’s acting, even though she probably wasn’t expecting a literal distress call on a random Sunday morning from one of her patients. “Dick, I can’t see you right now, but would it be okay to shake your head yes or no and have your dad translate for you?”

Dick’s nod is miniscule and he hates that he can’t speak.

“He nodded,” Bruce says. He sounds completely out of his depth, and Dick hates that, too.

“First question, Dick,” Lori says. “Can you chew a piece of gum for me?”

Dick looks up sharply, eyeing the phone at the out of place question. Bruce looks equally as bewildered. 

“Gum?” Bruce asks.

“Yep, do you have any? Or any chewy candy?”

“In my desk.” Bruce looks at Dick. Dick shakes his head in confusion, and Bruce fetches the piece of gum, back to kneeling in front of Dick within a few seconds. He holds out a piece. “Here.”

Dick unwraps an arm from around his chest and takes the piece of gum with trembling fingers. He trusts Lori, though, so the moment he unwraps it, he pops it into his mouth.

Dick chews mechanically. 

“Are you chewing the gum?” Lori asks.

“Yes,” Dick manages to say.

“What flavor is it?”

“Bubblegum.”

Probably not for Bruce. Dick knows Bruce well, and he’s not the type to chew gum. He probably kept it in there for Cass, who is an absolute menace when it comes to gum and candy. Dick’s little sister likes to haunt this study often enough that Dick wouldn’t be surprised if Bruce did keep the gum in his desk stocked specifically for Cass.

“Do you like bubblegum?”

“It’s fine,” Dick croaks, his shoulders falling as he shares another confused glance with Bruce. Or well, Dick is still confused. Bruce's expression has fallen back into a soft concern, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“Do you have a favorite kind? I know I’m partial to wintermint, but that’s not everyone’s cup of tea.”

“Um, I only ever really chew bubblegum,” Dick says. 

It’s mostly a nostalgia thing. Haly’s never had anything but bubblegum when it came to flavors, and Dick has never really seen the need to branch out.

“That’s perfectly fine,” Lori tells him. And after a second of quiet, she asks, “How are you feeling, scale of one to ten, one being a panic attack and ten being completely calm?”

“Oh!” Dick says, figuring out the trick. “Oh. That was a grounding technique.”

“A quick one, yes.” Lori hums. “I’d like to guide you through a few more in a minute, but first I want to see where you’re at. Are you okay giving me a number?”

“Uh, three, maybe?”

Dick is still trembling, but he’s looser. Less tense. He’s talking. He doesn’t feel as distant. All good things. 

The rain is still ever-present, threatening to drown him in its noise, but with Lori on the phone, and Bruce right in front of him, one hand holding Dick’s phone and the other held out as an offering, Dick doesn’t feel so alone.

He takes Bruce’s hand and lets his dad and his therapist help him.

------

“Thank you,” Dick says later, wrung out and slumped sideways on the couch, arms clutched to his own chest. 

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Bruce tells him softly, still kneeling in front of him. Dick’s phone is quiet a few feet away from them now. 

“Can I have a hug?” Dick asks.

Bruce leans over and tugs Dick into his arms.

[kingmagnificoofrosas]

Why I don't "ship" them

Ok, before anyone comes running me down, please hear me out! I have solid points to make here! I Promise!!!!

Btw, I'm absolutely ok with people disagreeing, but please, if you want to critique me in the comments, do it nicely! I won't tolerate any rudeness. My blog is a safe space and it should stay that way 💙

‼️Now, of course, like with all my analyses, this one is also based on my very own observation and my personal opinion. Also note, I don't hate Amaya! I hated her actions and dislike her for it. And I have very high standarts when it comes to romance‼️

We are told that these guys are married. Ok. Good. Nice. Naturally you then expect to actually see solid poof that tells us (audience) that this is true. After all, disney has a veeeery long history of displaying true love/soulmates, so this should be no different right? Right? Wrong! Let me tell you why!

I payed very close attention to Magnifico and Amaya throughout the whole movie and there was 0 romantic tension whatsoever! Love is displayed in actions and words, and actions there were none. At least none that had me believing they are more than close friends the least. Even my Mom was utterly confused as to what they even are to each other. In my Mom's words : "Anything but a married couple! More like brother and sister."

Let me explain why I believe that we have a marriage of convinience here.

First of all, Amaya calls Magnifico "Mi Rey" all the time. This is spanish btw and means "My king" And she doesn't even say it in a romantic way, she calls him that like any other person in the kingdom would.

Now, my Dad made the point that back in the days people of high status didn't call each other by surnames, but Magnifico does! He calls her Amaya. So that arguement falls. Also, others are all calling Magnifico either by his name or they say "King Magnifico" so her not calling him by his surename in private is odd.

Of course, not everyone uses romantic nicknames but I think it's just weird that Amaya never calls him anything but 'king' and later to Asha and the others she says "Magnifico". It makes no sense.

She's hardly ever around him in private.

And if she is, she does what she does when in public as well. She mostly just stands around. The most touch we see her give is her placing her hand on his shoulder! No hugs, no caressing the cheek, no loving gestures. Please, any polite human being can place a hand on someones shoulder or give a smile. My dog shows more empathy when I'm in distress than Amaya does to her husband.

Her support is the worst! Literally!

You'd think she knows her "husband" right? You'd think if he's upset, she'd do her best to calm him down and support him, right?

Well, after "Star" appears, his light floods Rosas and Magnifico panics, all Amaya does is telling him to breathe. No : "Hey, I know you're upset and scared, I understand, lets talk about it and try to find a solution together!" I mean, he's told her earlier that he thinks he's being threatened. (Clear PTSD response here)

We saw how Magnifico reacted to "breathe!" She could have given him a hug and told him something more soothing. She could have taken his hands and shown him, she cares. She should, after all, know that he's traumatized. She should know why he reacts the way he does and help him get through it.

The fact alone that the first thing Magnifico does when he's upset is to withdraw himself to figure his problems out on his own rather than seek his spouse for comfort tells me a lot!

Yes, she asks him to put the book down by telling him it's bad and he needs to protect himself, and he does in the end, but what she does then makes me facepalm myself.

Get this, Magnifico's ptsd causes him to panic, he wants to protect himself and his subjects/kingdom and Amaya tells him "Look at your people, they love you because you're their handsome king."

You good Amaya? Your husband just had a panic attack and your best reply to that is, "Breathe, your people love you and you're handsome." ? What in the good grief kinda advice to panic is "you are handsome" ? And mind you, his subjects are one of the very reasons he even panics in the first place!

But of course he reacts nicely, cause he is a sweetheart.

And her not wanting him to get posessed by the book isn't a solid proof she loves him. It only tells us she cares for him. Not how much. And also, she might know that should he get posessed, things are going down.

So what about the hand kiss then?

I'm tired of people taking this little scene as proof for everything. It's a moment of affection. But enough to make me buy they truly love each other? Nah.

A kiss to the top of the hand used to be the bare minimum form of respect a man could pay a woman. Women would have even held their hands out for men to kiss as a form of demanding respect.

We could have gotten a real kiss. If not on the lips, on the cheek, on the forehead, anything that clearly shows us, yes, they love each other. But no. And also, the patting? He patted her hand like I pat my dogs head and the kiss was more a quick peck. Imagine Magnifico would have lingered for 3 seconds, held eye contact or looked at Amaya a little while longer, now that would have been romantic tension, that would have told me, there are solid feelings there!

Yes, in english he calls her "my love" but in german he says "my dear" which you could call anyone as a form of being nice! And even if he meant it in a affectionate way, his actions don't add up to it.

If you say you love someone, you prove it with actions. If there is no action to prove words, it's just not true. And no, even people who have a hard time expressing their emotions do show they love you in their own ways. So let's move on and examine Magnifico's behavior more.

Again, he doesn't seek her comfort! He rather runs across half his castle to let out his thoughts and emotions than talk to her. That means, he doesn't trust her enough. He doesn't feel safe enough to show his vunerability in her presence, open up, vent, cry and let out his feelings. But he should! You should be able to do that in a marriage. He calls her "my love" but other than that? Do his actions underline what he says? No.

If you didn't agree with the above so far, I have this 👇🏼

He knew she'd betray him! He sent out Simon instead of going on his own.

If she were his true love/soulmate, he wouldn't have even spent a single thought about if she could eventually betray him. If you truly love someone, you don't betray them like a snap of a finger. Of course ptsd people have trust issues but Amaya is said to be his "loyal wife"

Loyal my butt!

The first thing she did after he snapped wasn't try everything in her might to get him back and safe him, no, she immediately ran to Asha and her teenage friends and was like, "Oh, I'm sick and tired of him, I've seen so many horrors, I suffered so bad. Yup, he's evil, let's destroy him." (Yes, literally! I'm pointing at that "trample the cookie to pieces" scene ...)

She sings : I've seen too many bad things that I can't keep count!

Huh? Like what please? All of the sudden she acts as if he'd been abusing her all the time. He never called her names, never threated her badly (until he became posessed by the evil in the book that is) he never raised his hand to her. He even told her he's lucky to have her, which (pfff. What did she even do besides sitting and standing still and look pretty?)

Look at what's going on here. And study the facial expressions, please. Magnifico is tired here. He's tired, annoyed, disappointed and upset at his subjects and Amaya is straight up confused. Look at her. She cannot understand why he's so upset.

The situation escaletes, he storms away and she tells him "they question you because you make them feel safe enough to do so."

*holding my laugh right here* Again, what a way to trample into a wound!

Subjects questioning their king is normal in a way, but right here, Magnifico is on the edge of his nerves anyway and she might have aimed to calm him but in the absolute wrong way! If you as "wife" know that your husband has ptsd, and is venting or reacting to a trigger, you don't go talking about that trigger even further. People with ptsd will understand me here. Even if someone means well, if you keep talking about the very thing that just triggered a ptsd response, you're making it worse!

She could have told him, "They're just as confused about the situation as you are. You are their king and they look up to you. I'm sure they didn't mean to question you in a bad way."

But anyway, he pushes her away, saying he doesn't want to be disturbed. Which, ok, sometimes you need to cool down on your own but he does that every single time. And she just runs along clueless and helpless like some sort of servant.

To be fair, people with ptsd/c-ptsd are difficult to handle. Even in a relationship of true love, it's not always easy. But with Amaya and Magnifico, I'm looking at the whole picture and not just a single moment. I looked at every moment we get in the movie and how they react and behave.

Amaya was all smiles until the moment he snapped. Then all of the sudden, yes, he's an evil monster! And oh, her too ignoring the fact that he got ptsd and that it's the evil that has a hold of him now that makes him go bonkers, nice! So much for : in good and in bad times.

Amaya - "The good in him, I watched it melt."

Yes, that is exactly the problem! She watched! Magnifico was suffering and she watched! Also the good was only swapped because he got posessed by evil, lady Sherlock.

Furthermore, when she and Dahlia look into the evil book, and Dahlia states the book says that once posessed by the evil magic, there is no going back forever. And Amaya doesn't bat a lash. Excuse me? What ever the heck happened to : true love breaks any curse? True love's kiss breaks any spell? We even had true love tears breaking curses! (Tangled and frozen)

Amaya didn't even shed one singe tear. None. At this point, Asha cried more over the situation than Amaya did. Just how quickly she was ok with everything, how quickly she accepted the situation ....

Heck, if he'd been her true love, things would have looked way different. Yes, disney tried to pull the "but he's the villain" card, but I don't buy that for a second. They could have made her heartbroken at least but she even snapped at him after he was on the edge. It's him who betrayed everyone. The evil magic book is suddenly forgotten. No, no, no! Ya'll backstabbing him and ignoring the fact he's got PTSD got him into this shit situation in the first place. And if AMAYA hadn't totally failed at being a good wife, Magnifico most likely wouldn't have even gotten as far!

But, the answer is simple. She doesn't love him! Or at least not nearly enough! When she sang, I was fooled by the love I felt, I was like 🤨? What exactly did you love, dear? His handsome looks? His magic? The only praise we saw her give him was when he did magic. When he did magic and or granted wishes she cheered like a child but other than that? Nothing like, "I see how much you give, how hard you try to protect us all everyday. I wish I could help you more, take some of that burden from your shoulders or at least carry it with you."

And if you're still not convinced, this tops it all! 👇🏼

Again, no tears, no sadness, nothing. She even approaches the whole situation with humor! And then she picks the mirror up like a dead rat on its tail and proudly declares "to the dungeons with him!" Not at all a reaction from a wife who truly "loves/loved" her husband.

She gives the tiny mirror away like a trashbag.

So to add things up. There is nothing to prove they truly loved each other. Cared for one another to a certain degree, yes. Magnifico at least showed a sprinkle of affection but on the other hand, he's a gentleman.

So, no, I personally will never ship them. I love Magnifico and the fact that Amaya wrote him off as easy as shrugging off a bug from your shoulder upsets me. 😬

He deserves so much better! He deserves true love. He deserves a healthy relationship full of compassion, support and guidance. He deserves respect and acknowledgement. He deserves healing!

Give that poor ptsd suffering man a break!

~