#Not . even try to understand that complexity

[idyllic-ghost]

Title: Boyfriend Privileges Pairing: Mingyu x gn(femme presenting)!reader Genre: fluff, suggestive, established relationship Wordcount: 9.9k Rating: 18+

Synopsis: The ten times Mingyu has shown off his "boyfriend privileges"

Warnings: suggestive content not suitable for anyone under the age of 18, food mention, pet names, reader presents as feminine at one point (wearing a dress) but it still reads as gender neutral, slight angst, bathing together

Disclaimer: The scenarios and depictions in my works are fictional and do not represent real-life situations. They do not aim to reflect the complexities of any culture, city, or individual. All characters are entirely fictional, regardless of names or descriptions.

A/N: this fic was created before i decided to leave this blog permanently, and put on queue to be posted now. this blog is still not active. read here to find out why

MDNI: Adults only. Minors are not allowed. Any minors found will be blocked.

Masterlists

You're not sure exactly when it began or what prompted it, but a few months into your relationship, Mingyu started asking you to do little tasks for him. They're always small, often tedious things. Whenever you hesitate, he flashes a charming smile and invokes "boyfriend privileges." Maybe it's the playful way he says it or the endearing look in his eyes, but you always end up giving in.

Mingyu, ever perceptive, has noticed this and teeters on the brink of abusing his "powers." But it doesn't bother you. You'd happily indulge your boyfriend's privileges.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 1. Overgrown puppy cuddles

Mingyu is a large puppy that just doesn’t understand how big he is. At least, that's how you see him. Whenever your boyfriend comes home from an especially rough day at work, he wants cuddles. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he'll pout and beg until you sit down on the couch and let him cuddle up in your lap.

"You're crushing me," you mutter.

You're sitting with your legs over the couch cushions, your back against the armrest. Mingyu's laying over your body like a human blanket—one of those electrical blankets that people use in winter. The man is warm.

"Boyfriend privileges," he mumbles, his voice muffled against your skin.

You sigh because you know he's right, you'd let him do this even if he's crushing your bones. Letting your fingers tangle in his hair, Mingyu let's out a sound of approval and nuzzles his head deeper into the crook of your neck. His arms are around your torso, making sure that you don't even try to move. Not that you would.

"Did you have a long day?" you ask softly and he hums. "My poor baby..."

You coo at him, and he whines—he's relishing in being doted on. Mingyu's arms squeeze you a little, a silent sign that he wants you to continue.

"You work so hard, don't you?" You wait for Mingyu to nod before you coo again, "My hardworking Gyu, you're doing such a good job. People love you, you know that? They appreciate your work. So do I."

Mingyu tilts his head up, his eyebrows raised as he silently asks for confirmation. "I really do," you add.

"Thank you..." He puts his forehead against your chest and sighs. "I needed this... needed you."

"I know, puppy." You smile and ruffle his hair.

Mingyu groans and lifts his upper body off of you, his arms resting on the armrest behind you. "Oh, finally! I can breathe!" you exclaim dramatically.

"Sorry," he mutters.

You cup his face in your hands. "I was kidding. I don't mind." You lean in and press a kiss on his pouty lips. "You're like my blanket... or like a Saint Bernard who's forgotten he's not a puppy anymore."

Mingyu smiles at that, before leaning in to litter your face with pecks that have you giggling and squealing.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 2. Random massages

You're in line for a ride at an amusement park when Mingyu suddenly turns to you. It's been at least five minutes since you started waiting, and you can tell he's getting impatient. His foot taps rhythmically on the ground, and he keeps glancing at his watch.

"Can you give me a massage? My shoulder's stiff," he huffs, rubbing the offending spot for emphasis.

"Again?" Your eyebrows furrow with concern. "Gyu, you should really go see a specialist..."

Mingyu pretends to ponder this suggestion, then shakes his head with a playful grin. "I don't need a specialist if I have you."

You sigh and roll your eyes, but can't help smiling at his pleading expression. His big, puppy-like eyes, the way his smile showcases his adorable canines, and his hands clasped together in a mockery of prayer make it impossible to refuse. "Sure," you mutter, already resigning yourself to his request.

The line moves a little, and you both shuffle forward a few steps. You're momentarily distracted by the imposing structure of the rollercoaster ahead, watching as the cart sends passengers hurtling through loops and dips at breakneck speed. Your reverie is interrupted by Mingyu poking your side.

"What?" you ask, looking back at him.

"Please?" he repeats, his tone even more imploring.

"Now?" You glance around at the crowd surrounding you—though no one seems to be paying attention, you feel self-conscious.

"Now," Mingyu insists, nodding earnestly.

"Babe, I can't massage you here. You know you shouldn't take off your shirt in public, right? Even if we do find somewhere private, I don't have any oils—"

"Not a big one." He interrupts, holding up his hand with his index finger and thumb inches apart. "A small one. Just on the spot on my shoulder."

"Gyu—"

"Boyfriend privileges," he pleads quietly, eyes wide and hopeful.

You can't say no to him when he gets like this. With a resigned sigh, you motion for him to turn around. He does so eagerly, bending his knees slightly to give you better access to his shoulder. Placing one hand on his neck and the other on his shoulder, you begin to work your thumb into the knot you find there.

Mingyu lets out a soft, contented sigh, only audible to your ears, as he relaxes almost immediately under your touch. The tension in his shoulder melts away, and his head drops forward slightly, eyes closing in relief. The gentle hum of the amusement park, the chatter of the crowd, and the distant screams from the rollercoaster all fade into the background as you focus on easing his discomfort.

Despite the oddity of the situation, there's something intimate and endearing about the moment. The world around you blurs, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of your own making. And as you massage Mingyu's shoulder, you can't help but feel a warm rush of affection for him and his silly, endearing ways.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 3. Sharing food

The restaurant is alive with the hum of conversations, the clinking of cutlery, and the occasional burst of laughter. However, all of this fades into a distant background as you focus intently on Chan's story. It's a rare opportunity to meet the members in person, despite your boyfriend working so closely with them, so you want to make the most of every second.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is lost in his own world. Ever since he finished his meal, he’s been zoned out—leaning back in his chair with a distant look in his eyes. You can't decide if he's impatiently waiting for Chan to finish or if he's just succumbed to a food coma. But when he casually reaches over and steals a fry from your plate, your doubts about the food coma vanish. You glance at him, and he meets your gaze with a small, mischievous smile before grabbing another fry. You let him.

A sudden gasp beside you snaps you back, and you turn to see Jun staring at you with mock jealousy from across the table. You smile and tilt your head questioningly.

"What?" you ask, bemused.

"You hit my hand when I tried to borrow a fry from you," Jun accuses, his eyes narrowed at you.

"First of all, I gently slapped it," you correct him. "Second of all, you were stealing, not borrowing. Don't try to make your crime sound better."

Jun huffs dramatically, and you can't help but grin. Meanwhile, Mingyu, taking advantage of the distraction, nabs another fry from your plate. There are almost none left now. As Jun reaches out to make another attempt, you slap his hand away with a swift motion.

"But he—" Jun starts to protest.

"Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu interjects smoothly, popping the last two fries into his mouth with a triumphant grin.

You hear a collective groan from the others at the table, but you just chuckle at Mingyu’s proud expression. "Mhm, boyfriend privileges," you repeat softly, unable to suppress a smile.

You lift a hand to gently brush the hair out of Mingyu's face, and he looks at you with a loving smile that makes your heart flutter. The warm feeling in your stomach is more than just the satisfaction from the delicious food you've eaten.

"Can I finish telling my story now?" Chan interrupts, a hint of exasperation in his voice.

You pull your gaze away from Mingyu and refocus on Chan, giving him your full attention once again. "Go on," you say, eager to hear the rest of his tale.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 4. Seeing you first thing in the morning

The feeling of someone's soft breaths feathering against your face makes you scrunch your nose in sleepy annoyance. Mingyu's warm hands travel to your waist with the familiarity of someone who’s done it a million times before. And he has. His touch is intimate and assured, sliding over your skin with practiced ease. He knows you're awake now, evident by the low hum you let out, so he presses a few tender kisses on the bare skin of your clavicle, each one like a gentle spark of warmth.

"G'morning," you mutter, your voice still heavy with sleep, the words blending into a sigh.

"Good morning," he whispers softly, his breath tickling your skin.

You recognize his morning voice—his "I just woke up" voice—so you can tell he’s been up for a while. His voice sounds clearer, more alert, like he’s had time to turn around and take a sip of the water he always leaves on his bedside table.

"Have you been awake for long?" you ask, your words barely above a whisper as his lips continue their gentle exploration, each kiss a tender reminder of his affection.

"Since eight-thirty," he answers between kisses, each one a delicate attempt to keep you as close as possible.

You glance at the clock, seeing that it's almost nine already. "Babe, you've been awake for half an hour... why didn’t you wake me up?"

Mingyu pauses his kisses to look up at you, his expression soft and affectionate, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion. Turning his head slightly, he looks over at the clock and hums thoughtfully.

"I was busy," he says with a playful glint in his eyes. He nestles his head back in the crook of your neck, his warmth enveloping you, but doesn’t resume his kisses, much to your dismay.

"Busy doing what?" you murmur, curiosity piqued, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his back.

"Looking at you," he admits with a giggle, lifting his head to meet your eyes. His gaze is filled with affection, his eyes sparkling with sincerity, and he's trying his best to hold back a big grin. "It's my boyfriend privilege. Only I get to see you like this."

"It's a privilege to see my bed head?" You snort, but Mingyu stays serious, his eyes unwavering, his hand gently stroking your cheek.

"Everyday," he replies softly, his voice a tender caress.

You feel a rush of warmth at his words, and you can't help but smile. You reach up to run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer for a soft, lingering kiss. His lips are warm and inviting, the kiss deepening with the love and tenderness that has grown between you over the months. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

When you finally pull back, Mingyu's eyes are half-lidded, his expression content and serene. He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, his touch light and loving. "I love these quiet mornings with you," he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

"Me too," you whisper back, your heart swelling with affection, your eyes locked with his.

You snuggle closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The world outside can wait a little longer as you bask in the warmth of each other's presence, the quiet intimacy of the morning making everything else fade away. Mingyu's hands continue their gentle caresses, his fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. You feel utterly cherished, each touch and kiss a testament to the love you share. The gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your hand, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and the warmth of his body against yours create a cocoon of contentment that you never want to leave.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 5. Showing you off

"Gyu!" you shout from the bathroom, "What time is it?"

The sound of his long steps come closer and closer until the bathroom door pushes open. Mingyu's head peeks through the gap in the door, and smiles as soon as he sees you. You're wearing the new dress he bought you, the cute sundress that couldn't help himself from buying when he saw you looking at it.

"You're pretty," he murmurs and slinks into the bathroom.

He wraps his arms around you, your back relaxing into his chest. "Mingyu," you repeat.

"What?" He pulls his eyes away from the dress to meet your eyes.

"What time is it?" you ask again with a teasing smile.

"Oh, it's around three-thirty." His hands find your waist. "We should leave in half an hour."

You nod and start packing up your make up. "Good, I think I'm done anyway... do you think I look okay?"

Mingyu lets go of you, spinning you around to face him. You can only grin while he studies you carefully with his lips pursed and his eyebrows furrowed in focus. After a few seconds, he nods—satisfied with what he's seen.

"Perfect." He puts his hand right below your jaw, careful not to disturb the make up on your face. "You look perfect, baby."

His smile remains radiant as you arrive at his family's get-together, a constant beam of joy that lights up the entire evening. Mingyu keeps you close, his arm possessively yet gently wrapped around you, presenting you to the members of his family you haven't yet met. Every introduction is accompanied by a glowing remark about you, his voice brimming with pride. You feel like a movie star at a film premiere—the constant pampering, the way his eyes sparkle every time he looks at you, and the sneaky photos he snaps when he thinks you're not looking.

Mingyu can't seem to stop showering you with compliments. "This is my partner," he says, beaming, as he introduces you to yet another relative. "They're incredible, you know. Smart, kind, and absolutely stunning." He turns his head to you, trying to contain his big smile by biting down on his bottom lip.

You blush, murmuring polite responses, but his praise never ceases. It's in the way he looks at you, eyes full of adoration, and the way he never lets go of your hand, his thumb occasionally brushing against your skin in a soothing gesture.

Throughout the evening, Mingyu is a constant presence by your side, his touch grounding you amidst the whirlwind of social interactions. His family is warm and welcoming, their smiles genuine as they embrace you into their fold. The air is filled with laughter and conversation, the smell of delicious food wafting through the house, creating an atmosphere of warmth and togetherness.

Mingyu’s playful nature shines through as he snaps candid photos of you, his grin widening each time you catch him in the act. "You’re just too beautiful not to capture," he explains with a cheeky smile, earning a soft laugh from you.

As the night progresses, you find yourself growing more and more flustered under the weight of his unending compliments. Yet, there's a thrill in it—a heady mixture of embarrassment and joy at being the center of his universe. His family notices, and they tease him gently about his lovesick behavior, but it only makes him hold you closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear that make your heart flutter.

By the time the evening winds down, you’re overwhelmed with affection, feeling cherished and adored in a way that leaves you breathless. The warmth of Mingyu’s family, combined with his constant praise and tender glances, has wrapped you in a cocoon of love and contentment. As you prepare to leave, Mingyu wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close for a tender kiss on your temple, his lips lingering just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

"Thank you for coming with me tonight," he murmurs, his voice soft and filled with genuine gratitude. "You made everything perfect."

You smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your own. "Thank you for taking me along... I don't think I've seen you like this before," you admit, your voice a gentle whisper in the quiet of the night.

"What do you mean?" He cocks his head, his eyes curious and endearing, making you laugh softly at his obliviousness.

"You were trying to show me off all night," you explain, a playful note in your voice. Seeing his slightly worried expression, you quickly add, "It was sweet, Gyu. Really, it was."

Relief floods his features, and he leans in to press a kiss on your lips. The kiss is soft, lingering a second longer than it should, filling you with a warmth that spreads through your entire body. "It's my boyfriend privilege to get to show you off," he says, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection.

You groan playfully, rolling your eyes at his words as he starts giggling, the sound infectious and heartwarming. Taking your hand in his, he leads you to the cab he's ordered to take you home. The night air is cool and refreshing, a gentle breeze rustling through the trees, but Mingyu's hand in yours keeps you warm.

As you approach the cab, he pauses for a moment, turning to look at you with a tenderness that makes your heart swell. "You know," he says softly, brushing a stray hair from your face, "You should wear that dress more often."

"Oh yeah?"

Your breath catches in your throat at his words as he pulls you into a tight embrace. "Yeah," he whispers.

With one last lingering kiss, you both get into the cab, his arm never leaving your shoulders. As the city lights blur past the window, you lean into Mingyu, feeling his warmth envelop you.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 6. A shoulder to cry on

When you enter the apartment, none of the lights are turned on. You worked late that day, but not so late that Mingyu would've gone to sleep already. The apartment is eerily quiet, devoid of the usual warmth and liveliness. Toeing off your shoes and putting away your outerwear in their rightful places, you start to wonder if he's not home. He usually texts you when he gets home, but you haven't received any messages.

Concern etches between your brows as you walk further into the apartment. The kitchen is spotless, with no pots or pans on the stove—not that you always expect Mingyu to cook, but he had told you earlier today that he'd have something ready for you when you got home. You open the fridge, finding it just as you left it this morning. The absence of any signs of recent activity deepens your worry.

As you pass the bathroom by the guest room, you flick on the lights, casting a warm glow to see the path to your shared bedroom. By the ajar door, you notice a piece of fabric slumped together on the floor. Picking it up, you realize it's Mingyu's jacket. You drape it over your arm and continue to the bedroom, your heart pounding with unease.

He's not there, but you see that the light in your bathroom is on, a soft glow seeping through the cracks in the door. You place his jacket on the edge of the bed before approaching the bathroom door, only to find it locked.

You knock softly, pressing your ear against the door. "Mingyu, I'm home... are you okay?"

"I'm okay, baby," he replies, but his voice is thick with tears. "Sorry, I didn't have time to make you dinner... I think there's some leftovers from yesterday."

"Please, open the door." Ignoring his suggestion about dinner, you grab the door handle. "I can hear that you're not okay."

You hear him sigh, and his footsteps approach the door. Stepping back, you wait as the door swings open. The first thing you see is his bloodshot eyes and red nose. He sniffles and looks away, trying to hide his vulnerability.

"I'm..." He hesitates, torn between lying and being honest.

Before he can decide, you engulf him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. "Oh, baby..."

The dam breaks as a sob bubbles up Mingyu's throat, a raw, heart-wrenching sound that shatters the silence. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hot tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking into your shirt. You can feel the wet warmth of his tears spreading, a tangible sign of his anguish.

You rub his back soothingly, your hand moving in slow, comforting circles. Each sob wracks his body, causing his shoulders to tremble violently. His fingers clutch at your shirt, holding on as if he might drown without this anchor.

Minutes pass, each one heavy with his sorrow, until finally, his sobs begin to subside. His shoulders stop shaking, and his breathing slowly evens out, though occasional hiccups still break through. Only then do you loosen your embrace, though you don't fully let go. Instead, you gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that cling to his skin. His eyes are red and swollen, filled with a mixture of lingering sadness and gratitude.

"Do you want to talk about it?" you ask softly.

"...can I tell you later? I'll start crying again if I tell you now." He lets out a choked laugh, trying to relieve the tension, but your frown remains.

"Okay. Let's get you cleaned up."

You gently wipe away Mingyu’s tears, your thumb brushing over his cheeks with tender care. His skin is warm and damp, his eyes still glistening with the remnants of his sorrow. Your touch is gentle and reassuring as you guide him to change into more comfortable clothes. You help him out of his work attire, unbuttoning his shirt with careful fingers, and replacing it with a soft, worn-in t-shirt that brings him comfort. Each movement is deliberate, designed to soothe and calm him. You then help him into a pair of loose, cozy sweatpants, ensuring he's enveloped in softness and warmth.

Once he’s settled, you guide him to the couch in the living room, your arm around his waist, supporting his slow and heavy movements. The weight of his exhaustion is impossible to miss, his shoulders slumped and his steps dragging. He collapses onto the couch with a weary sigh, sinking into the cushions as if they might absorb some of his burden.

You start to leave for the kitchen, intending to get him something to eat or drink, but he grabs your hand. His grip is firm yet desperate, his fingers curling around yours with a silent plea for you to stay.

You turn back to him, your heart aching at the sight of his vulnerable expression. Mingyu looks up at you, his eyes wide and filled with a mixture of fear and need. "Don't leave," he whispers.

"I'm going to heat up some leftovers," you explain. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Mingyu shakes his head no and lets go of your hand. You feel his eyes on you as you walk around the kitchen, quickly putting something together. It's not fancy, and it's nothing like what he usually makes you, but it's enough for the two of you right now.

When you return to his side, you give him his bowl before settling down next to him. You eat in silence, letting Mingyu sit as close to you as he pleases. When you're done, you take the dishes to the kitchen. Although you want him to sit still and rest, he follows you—his arms wrapped around your waist the entire time.

It's hard to move around, but you don't complain. Soon enough, the dishes are done and you're back on the couch. Mingyu has his arms wrapped tightly around you as you lay on top of him.

"Thank you," he mutters.

"You don't have to thank me." You lean up to look him in the eye. "Me taking care of you is your boyfriend privilege."

He smiles and presses a chaste kiss on your lips before closing his eyes. The two of you end up falling asleep on the couch on accident. But your stiff body is worth it when you get to see Mingyu smiling at you the next morning.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 7. A shoulder to nap on

On the flight back home from a much-needed vacation, Mingyu booked the two of you first-class seats. It was partly because he loves spoiling you, but also so you could sleep comfortably on the way home. The plush seats and extra legroom were a perfect idea, promising a restful journey, but right now, that comfort feels like a far-off dream.

The flight was delayed by a few hours, leaving you and Mingyu stuck at the gate. The airport buzzes with the quiet hum of late-night travelers, the occasional announcement crackling over the PA system. The two of you sit in the lounge, surrounded by weary passengers slumped in their chairs, eyes glazed with fatigue. The smell of coffee and cleaning agents lingers in the air, mingling with the soft rustle of newspapers and the muted clatter of luggage wheels.

Mingyu tries to make the best of the situation, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the weariness. "Just a little longer," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Despite the delay, his presence is a comforting anchor in the sea of exhaustion, his voice a soft murmur that calms your racing thoughts.

You glance at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly. The soft lighting of the lounge casts a warm glow, but it does little to chase away the tiredness settling into your bones. Mingyu's fingers trace soothing patterns on your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring, each stroke a silent promise of love and comfort.

"I can't wait to be home in my bed," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, heavy with exhaustion.

Mingyu leans his head on your shoulder, his soft hair brushing against your cheek as he closes his eyes with a contented sigh. The weight and warmth of his head against your shoulder provide an unexpected comfort, grounding you in the moment. "This is enough for me," he says softly, his breath warm and reassuring against your skin.

"My shoulder?" you ask, a teasing lilt in your voice, feeling the vibration of his chuckle through the closeness.

"Yes," he replies, his tone earnest and affectionate. His closeness feels intimate and safe, a bubble of tranquility amidst the chaos of the airport.

"And why should I let you have my shoulder?" you tease, a smile tugging at your lips as you relish the closeness.

"Boyfriend privileges," he replies matter-of-factly, his lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. The slight pressure of his lips against your skin sends a wave of warmth through you.

You sigh, a mixture of amusement and tenderness filling your heart. The playful banter and the sincere love in his voice make your heart swell. You tilt your head to rest against his, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing. The world around you fades into a comforting blur, the distant chatter of the airport and the mechanical hum of the environment becoming mere background noise.

For a moment, it's just the two of you, wrapped in each other's warmth and love. His presence is a cocoon of safety and affection, and you close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax fully in his embrace. The gentle rhythm of his breathing, the steady beat of his heart, and the soft, warm pressure of his head against yours create a symphony of comfort that lulls you into a peaceful state.

Your peace is soon interrupted, however. Finally, the boarding announcement crackles through the speakers, breaking the heavy silence of anticipation and sparking a collective sigh of relief that ripples through the gate area. The weariness of the long wait begins to lift as passengers gather their belongings. Mingyu helps you gather your things, his hand never leaving yours as you make your way to the boarding line. His touch is a reassuring anchor, grounding you amidst the bustling crowd.

"Almost there," Mingyu whispers, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

"Thank goodness," you reply, offering him a tired smile.

The atmosphere shifts as you step onto the jet bridge, a mix of excitement and fatigue hanging in the air. The cool, conditioned air of the plane greets you as you board, offering a welcome contrast to the stuffy terminal. The flight attendants greet you with warm smiles, guiding you toward the plush sanctuary of first class.

Settling into your spacious seats, the world outside begins to fade away. The soft cushions envelop you in comfort, and the generous legroom allows you to stretch out and relax. Mingyu stows your carry-ons in the overhead compartment with ease, his movements fluid and practiced.

As he sits down beside you, the overhead lights cast a gentle glow. "This is so much better," you murmur.

Mingyu smiles, reaching over to adjust your blanket, tucking it around you with a tenderness that melts your heart. "I told you it would be worth the wait," he says softly, his eyes filled with affection.

You can't help but smile at the thought of curling up next to him, the hum of the plane's engines a soothing backdrop. "You always know how to spoil me," you whisper, leaning into his touch.

"It's my favorite thing to do," he replies, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Besides, you deserve it."

As the plane takes off, you lean into him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. The world outside the window shrinks to a distant blur, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of his embrace.

"Thank you, Gyu," you murmur, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

"For what?" he asks, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"For everything. For this. For you," you whisper, your words trailing off as sleep begins to claim you.

"Always," he replies softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your arm. "Sleep well, my love."

Wrapped in the comfort of his love and care, you drift off, the promise of restful sleep finally within reach. The gentle touch of his fingers lulls you into a peaceful slumber

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 8. Lunch boxes

When someone called out for lunchtime, the members collectively let out a big sigh of relief. With tired limbs, they make their way to the cafeteria. While everyone else lines up to buy something, Mingyu heads straight to the fridge and retrieves a carefully prepared meal. He sits down at a table, placing the metal box with a wooden lid in front of him. A pink, stretchy band adorned with tiny red strawberries holds the spoon in place. His face lights up with a smile as he spots the small note on the lid.

Hope practice is going well! I know you're working hard, so please enjoy your lunch and eat well! Can't wait for you to come home♡(>ᴗ•)

Mingyu carefully folds the pink post-it and tucks it into his phone case, a cherished reminder of your thoughtfulness. By then, people have started sitting down beside him, their eyes subtly glancing at the box in front of him. Nobody says anything—they already know what it is—until he opens it.

Inside the box is a beautifully arranged Korean lunchbox. The main compartment holds perfectly steamed white rice, topped with a sprinkling of black sesame seeds. Nestled beside it is a portion of crispy fried chicken, golden brown and glistening with a light coating of sweet and spicy sauce. The other sections are filled with a variety of colorful banchan: neatly sliced kimchi, lightly seasoned spinach, sweet and tangy pickled radish, and tender strips of stir-fried beef bulgogi. There’s even a small section of rolled omelette, its yellow hue bright and inviting.

The delicious aroma wafts up, drawing envious glances from his fellow members. The savory scent of fried chicken and the tangy hint of kimchi fill the air, making everyone's mouths water.

"Did Y/N make you another lunchbox?" Seokmin asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, they were working from home yesterday, so they had some extra time on their hands," Mingyu replies, a small smile playing on his lips as he inspects the beautifully arranged food.

"It's not fair that only you get homemade lunches from Y/N!" Seungkwan whines, his tone a mix of genuine envy and playful teasing.

Mingyu responds by sticking his tongue out at Seungkwan, making the younger man groan in exasperation. "Boyfriend privileges," Mingyu states proudly, his grin widening.

As he digs in, Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, savoring the flavors and the love that went into preparing his meal. The meat is perfectly seasoned, the rice fluffy, and the banchan vibrant and flavorful. Each bite is a reminder of your care and effort, making the meal taste even better. The members watch with a mix of admiration and envy as Mingyu enjoys his lunch.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 9. Bath buddy

As you walk the last bit to the door of your apartment building, you notice a figure in the distance. A tall man, vaguely boyfriend-shaped, waving both of his arms over his head with enthusiasm. Your heart skips a beat, and your smile matches Mingyu's as you break into a run, closing the gap between you. He’s sweaty from the gym, his skin glistening in the fading light, but you don’t mind. You launch yourself into his embrace, pressing yourself as close as possible, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort of his body.

"Are you trying to squeeze me to death?" he asks jokingly, his voice vibrating against your ear.

You loosen your grip slightly, looking up at him with a soft smile. "You have no idea how much I've missed you today."

Instead of teasing you, Mingyu gently pats your head, his fingers threading through your hair with a comforting touch. He sees the weariness in your eyes and the way your hair seems to stick out in all the wrong places, evidence of a long, hard day. "Bad day, hun?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

The moment he speaks, you feel your guard drop completely. Your lips naturally fall into a pout, and your hands grip the material of his shirt a little tighter. You nod, unable to find the words to describe the exhaustion you feel. Mingyu coos at you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment, offering silent comfort. He then guides you to the door, his hand resting on the small of your back, a steadying presence.

"Do you want to take a bath with me?" he asks as he opens the door for you, his voice gentle and soothing.

"Okay," you murmur.

Once inside, the apartment feels like a sanctuary, the chaos of the outside world fading away as the door clicks shut behind you. The familiar scent of home, mingled with Mingyu's comforting presence, immediately begins to soothe your frazzled nerves. He leads you to the bathroom, his touch a constant, reassuring anchor as he guides you down the softly lit hallway. The gentle hum of the apartment envelops you, creating a cocoon of tranquility.

In the bathroom, Mingyu starts running the bath, the sound of water filling the room like a calming symphony. You watch as he carefully adds your favorite bath salts, the granules dissolving into the warm water and releasing a soothing aroma. The scent of lavender and chamomile fills the air, creating a spa-like atmosphere that begins to unwind the knots of tension coiled within you.

Mingyu helps you undress with tender, loving movements, his touch feather-light yet filled with purpose. His fingers trace the contours of your body with a delicate touch, each gesture a silent reassurance of his love and care. The way his hands glide over your skin, unhurried and gentle, sends a wave of warmth through you, dispelling the day’s weariness.

He sheds his own clothes with practiced ease, the fabric slipping off his toned frame effortlessly. The sight of his familiar form, strong and comforting, brings a sense of security and warmth. His skin, slightly glistening from the exertion of the day, catches the soft light, highlighting the lines of his muscles and the contours of his body. There's a serene beauty in the way he moves, each action unhurried and filled with quiet confidence.

Stepping into the bath first, Mingyu eases himself into the steaming water with a sigh of contentment, the sound mingling with the gentle lapping of the water. He settles into the tub, the water enveloping him like a warm embrace. His eyes, inviting and filled with affection, lock onto yours as he extends his hand towards you. The look in his eyes speaks volumes, a silent invitation wrapped in love and intimacy.

You take his hand, feeling the warmth and strength in his grip as he helps you into the tub. The water envelops you in a gentle embrace, its warmth soothing your tired muscles. You settle between his legs, leaning back against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a comforting lullaby against your back.

As you relax into his embrace, Mingyu's arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands begin to gently massage your shoulders, his fingers working out the knots of tension with skillful precision. The sensation is both relaxing and intimate, his touch a balm to your weary soul. You close your eyes, surrendering to the moment, feeling the stress of the day melt away under his tender ministrations.

The soft glow of the bathroom light casts a golden hue over everything, enhancing the sense of intimacy and warmth. Shadows dance along the walls, creating a serene and almost magical ambiance. The only sounds are the gentle sloshing of water and the occasional sigh of contentment from both of you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice soft and content.

"I love you too," he replies, his lips brushing against your ear.

You stay like that for a while, the water lapping gently around you, the only sounds the occasional drip from the faucet and the steady rhythm of Mingyu's breathing. It’s a perfect moment of peace and connection, wrapped in the comfort and love that only he can provide.

After a few minutes, Mingyu shifts slightly behind you, his movements gentle yet purposeful. "Can you wash my hair?" he asks softly, his voice laced with a boyish charm that makes your heart flutter.

You smile, turning slightly to look at him, your eyes meeting his. "Of course," you reply, your voice warm and affectionate.

He hands you the shampoo, and you pour a generous amount into your palm. Mingyu dips his head back into the water, wetting his hair thoroughly before leaning forward to give you better access. The rich, lathering scent of his shampoo fills the air, mingling with the soothing aromas of the bath salts, creating a calming symphony of fragrances.

Your fingers work through his hair, massaging his scalp with gentle, circular motions. The silky strands slip through your fingers, and you take your time, ensuring each section of his hair is coated with the fragrant lather. Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, his eyes closing as he leans into your touch, his body visibly relaxing under your ministrations.

"This feels amazing," he murmurs, his voice a low, relaxed hum that sends shivers down your spine.

You smile, continuing your careful work. "You deserve it," you say softly. "It's your boyfriend privilege, isn't it?"

Mingyu chuckles, the sound a soft, comforting vibration against your chest. Before he can respond, you pick up the shower head, adjusting the temperature before gently rinsing out the shampoo. Tilting his head back with a gentle hand, you let the warm water cascade through his hair, washing away the suds and leaving his hair clean and soft.

He leans back against you once more, his hair damp and silky against your skin. His eyes are half-lidded with contentment, a serene smile playing on his lips. "Thank you," he whispers, his voice filled with gratitude and affection.

"Anytime," you reply, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. The warmth of the water and the intimacy of the moment create a cocoon around you, shutting out the rest of the world. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, a steady, reassuring rhythm that syncs with your own. Mingyu's hands rest gently on your arms, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin as you both bask in the tranquility of the bath.

The two of you stay like that, cocooned in warmth, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a golden hue over everything. The sounds of the water and your synchronized breathing create a peaceful ambiance.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ 10. Tie-fixer

You were already in your pajamas, nestled comfortably in bed with your book, when Mingyu walked in, still dressed in his suit but without his tie. The crisp white shirt accentuated his broad shoulders, and the slight dishevelment of his attire made him look irresistibly charming. His hair was slightly tousled, a few strands falling over his forehead, adding to his effortlessly handsome appearance. He didn't have to say anything; the moment your eyes met his, you were already putting your book to the side and swinging your legs out of bed, the anticipation of helping him a welcome routine.

"Where's your tie?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice, tilting your head slightly.

Mingyu pulls the piece of fabric from his pocket and hands it to you, a weary yet appreciative smile playing on his lips. The tie is cool and smooth in your hands, its silk gliding between your fingers. Rising to your feet, you step close to him, your fingers deftly slipping the tie around his neck. The familiar action feels intimate, almost like a ritual between the two of you, a small moment of connection in your busy lives.

As you slowly begin to tie it, your fingers working methodically, you glance up at him. "How long is the event?" you ask, your voice soft and caring, eyes meeting his with genuine concern.

"I probably won't be home until after two," he says with a sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly as the weight of his long night ahead settles in. The lines of fatigue on his face tug at your heart.

"It's okay. I want you to have fun," you murmur, focusing on the tie but feeling the sincerity of your words. "I'll be busy with dinner and my book anyway."

Mingyu watches you, his eyes softening as he takes in your familiar, comforting presence. "I wish you could come with me," he says quietly, his hands gently resting on your hips as you finish tying the knot. His touch is warm and grounding, a silent promise of his affection.

You tighten the tie and smooth it down, patting his chest gently. "You know I'd love to, but someone's got to hold down the fort here," you reply jokingly, your smile warm and reassuring.

He chuckles, the sound deep and rich, resonating in the quiet of the room. He leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin. "What would I do without you?" he murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a warm embrace. "Let's not find out," you whisper, your cheek pressed against his, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Mingyu hugs you tightly, savoring the closeness, the scent of his cologne mingling with the comforting smell of home. When he finally pulls back, he looks down at you with a mix of love and reluctance. "I really should go," he says, though he doesn't make a move to leave just yet.

"I know," you reply, your fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead, tucking it back into place. "You'll be amazing, as always."

"Mm, especially with such a well-tied tie," he smiles playfully at you, his eyes twinkling with affection. "I'm so lucky for my boyfriend privilege."

You chuckle softly, resting your hands on his chest. "Yes, you're very privileged," you tease. "Just remember that when you're out there charming everyone."

Mingyu grins, leaning down to press another kiss to your forehead. "How could I forget? My number one fan is waiting for me at home."

You roll your eyes, but your smile is fond. "Just don't let it go to your head."

He laughs, the sound warm and rich. "No promises... I'll miss you," he says, his voice softening as he cups your face in his hands.

"I'll miss you too," you reply, covering his hands with yours.

He gives you one last lingering kiss, his lips warm and tender against yours, a promise of his return. "I'll try to be back as soon as I can," he promises, his voice filled with genuine affection, his hand squeezing yours gently.

"I'll be waiting," you say softly, watching as he finally turns to leave, the door clicking shut behind him. The room feels a little emptier without him, but you return to bed, your book waiting patiently. For a moment, you just sit there, feeling the lingering warmth of his presence and the subtle ache of his absence, already looking forward to his return.

ଘ(੭◌ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚ ... 11?

The winter chill had settled in, but the warmth of Valentine's Day wrapped the city in a blanket of love and excitement. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of snow, mingling with the fragrance of roses that seemed to bloom on every corner. Everywhere you looked, couples were bundled up in cozy scarves and gloves, holding hands, sharing tender smiles, and exchanging sweet nothings. The city streets were transformed into a romantic wonderland, with heart-shaped lights casting a soft, warm glow on the cobblestone paths, creating a dreamy ambiance that made everything feel just a little more magical.

Mingyu had planned the entire day with meticulous care, wanting to make every moment special for you. The day began with the gentle sound of his voice waking you, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, holding a tray with breakfast in bed—fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, topped with fresh berries, and a steaming cup of your favorite coffee. The sweet aroma filled the room, and as you shared the meal, you couldn't help but smile at how perfectly the day had started.

The afternoon was spent strolling through the city, the two of you arm in arm as you visited all your favorite spots. The streets were alive with the hustle and bustle of the holiday, but for you, time seemed to slow down, every moment stretching into something memorable. You laughed over shared memories, pointing out familiar landmarks and reliving inside jokes that only the two of you understood. The cold air bit at your cheeks, but it was no match for the warmth of Mingyu's hand holding yours, or the way his laughter seemed to melt the chill away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, golden light over the city, Mingyu surprised you with dinner at the restaurant where you’d had your first date. The sight of the familiar entrance made your heart skip a beat, and when you stepped inside, the ambiance was perfect—low lights that cast a gentle glow over the intimate setting, soft music playing in the background, and a table tucked away in a quiet corner just for the two of you. Mingyu looked absolutely perfect, the flickering candlelight highlighting his features, making his eyes sparkle with a warmth that mirrored the love in your heart.

He was wearing the turtleneck you had gotten him last December, the deep burgundy color standing out beautifully under his sleek black coat. The sight of him, so effortlessly handsome, made you fall in love with him all over again.

The dinner was delicious, every bite savored as you reminisced about that first date and how far you'd come since then. But as the evening went on, you noticed a certain tension in Mingyu—a subtle shift in his demeanor. He was attentive as always, but his hand gripped yours just a little tighter, and his eyes, though filled with affection, seemed to hold something more—an emotion he hadn’t yet put into words.

When dessert was finished and the check was paid, Mingyu suggested a walk through the park. The idea seemed simple, but there was something in his tone that made your heart flutter with anticipation. The park was beautifully decorated for the holiday, with twinkling fairy lights wrapped around the trees and heart-shaped lanterns swaying gently from the branches. The path was dusted with a light layer of snow, which crunched softly underfoot as you walked side by side, the sound mingling with the distant laughter of other couples enjoying the night.

The cold nipped at your nose, but Mingyu’s presence kept you warm. He walked close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours with every step, and as you made your way deeper into the park, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become. His hand, warm and reassuring in yours, was steady, but there was a nervous energy beneath the surface, a sense of something important hanging in the air between you.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence, the world around you gradually fading into the background as you simply enjoyed being together. The park was peaceful, the night air crisp and clear, with the soft crunch of snow underfoot being the only sound between you. The distant twinkle of lights reflected off the lake's surface, casting a serene, almost magical glow over the scene. The sky above was an expanse of deep navy, dotted with stars that peeked out from behind the clouds, adding to the romantic atmosphere.

As you approached a secluded bench near the lake, Mingyu began to slow down, his footsteps becoming more deliberate. His breath was visible in the cold air, curling upward in soft, white puffs. The quietude around you seemed to intensify, amplifying the sound of your heartbeat in your ears. Mingyu stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lights strung up in the trees, making them look like they were sparkling with unshed emotions.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost tender, as he pulled you closer. Without waiting for your response, he wrapped his coat around you, his touch protective and warm.

"Not with you here," you replied with a smile, leaning into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. But as you looked up at him, you noticed something different, a subtle tension in his expression. "... you're unusually quiet tonight. Is everything okay?"

Mingyu smiled, though there was a trace of nervousness in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that made your heart skip a beat. "There's something I've been wanting to say all day," he began, his tone serious but laced with affection, each word carefully chosen. "Valentine's Day is all about celebrating love, right?"

You nodded, curiosity piqued, your gaze never leaving his. "Right..."

He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs before he released it slowly, his hands still holding yours, their warmth grounding you both. His expression softened, and the affection in his eyes deepened, becoming almost palpable. "Well, I wanted to celebrate us... You know how I've always said I'm lucky to have boyfriend privileges?" His lips curled into a small, playful smile, the familiar phrase bringing a rush of warmth to your chest. It was an inside joke that had grown between you, a phrase that had come to symbolize the depth of his love.

You laughed lightly, nodding, your heart fluttering. "You've mentioned it a time or two."

"Well," he continued, the playful edge in his voice giving way to something more serious, more profound. His grip on your hands tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself for what he was about to say. "I've been thinking a lot about what that really means. About how much I love you, and how my life has been so much better with you in it. I don't just want boyfriend privileges anymore. I want... something more."

The air around you seemed to still, the world shrinking down to just the two of you. Mingyu's words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and you found yourself holding your breath, your heart pounding in anticipation.

"Mingyu... what are you saying?" you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you searched his eyes, hoping for confirmation of what you suspected.

"... I want husband privileges," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. The words tumbled out like a secret he had been holding close to his heart, and as they settled between you, the weight of them was almost overwhelming.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words sank in, sending a rush of emotion through your entire being. Before you could fully process what was happening, Mingyu reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The deep burgundy of the box stood out against the black fabric of his coat, catching the faint light from the lanterns around you. Your breath caught in your throat as he dropped to one knee, the world around you dissolving into a blur. The soft glow of the lights reflected in his eyes, making them shine with a love so intense it took your breath away.

"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling slightly, each word laced with raw emotion. "Will you let me spend the rest of my life loving you, taking care of you, and being your forever? I want to be your husband, not just today, not just tomorrow, but every day for the rest of our lives."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly as he held the ring, and the sheer vulnerability in his gaze made tears well up in your eyes. Your hand flew to your mouth in disbelief, your heart pounding in your chest as the magnitude of the moment hit you. The world seemed to stop, the night holding its breath as you looked down at him, his expression filled with hope, love, and adoration.

"Mingyu," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion, each word carrying the weight of your love for him. "Yes. Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tension in his shoulders melted away as his face broke into the widest smile, relief and joy flooding his features. His eyes sparkled with happiness as he carefully slipped the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and reverent. The ring was perfect—simple, elegant, and exactly what you would have chosen. It glimmered softly in the light, a tangible symbol of the promise you had just made to each other.

Without hesitation, Mingyu stood up, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off your feet. He spun you around in a joyful whirl, the cold air forgotten as you both laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet park. The night seemed to come alive with your happiness, the trees around you swaying gently as if to share in your joy.

When he finally set you down, his arms remained around you, pulling you into a kiss. His hands cradled your face, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheeks, his touch warm and steady. The tenderness in his grip made your heart swell, and as he leaned in, you could feel his breath mingling with yours, a soft, shared anticipation hanging in the air. When his lips finally met yours, it was as if time itself slowed. The kiss was soft at first, a delicate, reverent connection that conveyed everything words couldn’t.

But then, it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a slow, purposeful intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Each movement was deliberate, filled with a passion that burned through you, igniting every nerve. His kiss wasn’t just an expression of love—it was a promise, a vow sealed with every ounce of emotion he had been holding back. You could feel his love in the way his hands held you, not too tight, but firm enough that you knew he never wanted to let go.

As his lips molded perfectly against yours, the rest of the world faded into oblivion. The cold night air, the distant sounds of the city, even the twinkling lights around you—all of it dissolved into the background, leaving only the warmth of his kiss, the rapid beat of your heart, and the overwhelming flood of emotion between you. It was as if the two of you existed in your own universe, a moment suspended in time where nothing else mattered.

"I love you," he whispered against your lips, his voice filled with reverence and devotion, as if the words were sacred.

Tears still glistening in your eyes, you smiled up at him, your heart bursting with happiness. "I love you too, Mingyu. I hope you're ready for all the husband privileges."

He laughed, the sound rich and full of joy, resonating with the happiness that radiated from him. It was a laugh that spoke of a future filled with love, laughter, and countless more moments like this. He pulled you into another embrace, his arms holding you close as if he never wanted to let go. "This is the best Valentine’s Day of my life," he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion.

"It’s just the beginning, baby," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw as you looked up at him, memorizing every detail of his face, every line that spoke of his love for you.

The two of you stood there in the park, wrapped in each other’s arms as the lights twinkled around you, the cold air nipping at your cheeks but failing to penetrate the warmth that enveloped you both. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a moment that felt like it would last forever.

As you walked back home, hand in hand, the silence between you was filled with contentment and the unspoken promises of what was to come. You couldn’t help but glance down at the ring on your finger. The excitement of what lay ahead filled you with warmth, and as you leaned into Mingyu, you knew that your life together would be filled with endless love, laughter, and, of course, husband privileges.

feedback is always welcomed!

taglist:

@enhacolor, @shuabby1994, @junhui-recs, @dkakapizzaboy, @just-here-to-read-01,

@loviehan, @userjunhuii, @novalpha, @bubblymoon, @aaniag,

@d0nghyuck, @fantasy2wonderland, @seunghancore, @woozixo, @niktwazny303,

@lllucere, @uniq-tastic, @wonwoospartyhat, @stariightjoyy, @hyneyedfiz,

@cali-snow, @crazywittysassy, @yeosayang, @wonuvs, @dokyeomkyeom,

@kyeomiis, @gyuguys, @notevenheretbh1 @iamawkwardandshy, @wonuskie

[patinathing]

Never had a version of God thanks to my PHD Giganerd Atheist dad.

Gave me the rundown on Science vibes and that even he didn't know everything from the time I was a wee flesh lump.

There were mysteries out there, and I was free to find what structure best supported my understanding or confusion related to them. The tools he provided me seemed to survive the questions I had.

He'd walk around the house wearing a shirt with a 3 circle Venn diagram - The circles were of Rat DNA, Mouse DNA, and Human DNA. Looked like the following. We share a lot of DNA with them critters.

Humans have always kinda been chimps to me? Silly, funny, lovely, scared, complex, contradictory, existential chimps.

So my dad was incredibly awkward, but also one of the nicest and smartest people I've ever known. And it didn't come from a place of what he 'should be doing' because he didn't really have that. Kindness and quality consideration are worthwhile however they come about. I'm happy he found his. He's also flawed and troubled, but he's also a very clever chimp in a flawed and troubled world so I try not to give him too hard a time.

Suffering is everywhere. It's definitely worth noticing. Figuring out how best to deal with all of it can be tough.

The other better things are also around - joy, connection, creation and the likes. Balancing all that to be just the right amount of infuriating is tough!

Shit's happened. Life has had quite a sense of humor in my experience. Life not having a plan or a will makes it all the funnier to me, but humor is a coping mechanism of mine. I find it to be better than suffering when I get to make that choice.

Uh good luck! Consideration is a lovely thing.

One of the biggest eye-openers for me back when a I went to church was that like…

Oh man how do I explain it.

There’s this prevalent idea I see a lot in Christian circles that if you pray right, if you follow God correctly, if you’re a truly virtuous person, your problems will be solved, right?

If you suffer, if you fall ill, if bad things happen, it’s because you aren’t good enough. You don’t need medicine because if you’re worthy, if you’re faithful enough, God will reward you by healing you. Right?

But like. Discussing this with my mother, and travelling out east with our pastor… Jesus didn’t spend all his time with perfect, virtuous people. Jesus didn’t seek out and heal well-to-do, faithful, perfect Christians. In fact, there’s a specific story in which he straight up doesn’t travel out to heal a believer’s dying daughter, because she’s already “saved”. Her earthy death is okay because she’s going to heaven already.

And like… coming from our Pastor, who is one of the best guys I’ve ever met- there seems to be an ongoing, underlying message of, “Jesus doesn’t care about you if you’re a good Christian”. If you’re a good Christian, if you’re living a virtuous life on earth, then any suffering you experience is only temporary- your ETERNITY is secure. Jesus goes out of his way to meet with sinners and the unfaithful because those are the people whose souls are in danger.

So like. In that perspective, being good doesn’t make your life better, it’s just good for others and good for your soul. Praying and doing good probably won’t cure your cancer, but it may mean you don’t have to worry too much about your death.

And like. I dunno. I wouldn’t call myself a Christian, but I find myself thinking about that concept a lot

Does suffering mean you deserve a reward?

Is suffering proof that you’re unworthy?

Or is suffering just an unfortunate facet of life that doesn’t reflect on your worth, that you still have to deal with as best you can?

Maybe suffering is just suffering.

Maybe the bad things you experienced weren’t about you

And maybe you just gotta try your best and be kind anyways, so you can rest easy when you go

[comicaurora]

hi, you seem to be drawing a lot. can you please tell me, will drawing ever become easy? or is it always a struggle?

(because for me, drawing seems like a neverending fight against artblock, and at this point, i start wondering if it's not really artblock, but instead it's just the reality of art making)

It's not so much that it becomes easy. It's more that you'll find new things about it that are hard.

Art will never become effortless because you will start finding new challenges to wrangle with, but the act of wrangling them is a good part of the fun. Finding new visual effects you struggle to capture or comprehend the shape of, let alone put down on paper. You might start off struggling to render shadows on a figure, and then as you progress you start wondering how to do shadows of foliage, or caustics of light projected through water, or how glowing eyes would cast shadows on a face, etc. New complexities reveal themselves as old struggles are mastered.

If you're struggling with something that feels like artblock, the problem might not be in your hands, but in your eyes. What to draw is at least as much of a challenge as how to draw it. If you notice your eyes snagging on small details or vistas and you catch yourself trying to work out how to capture that effect, that's your artist eyes at work, and the better you get, the weirder your artist eyes will make you.

There's an exercise my mom recommends that she got from her old teacher: three life drawings a day. Of anything - a chair, a glass of water, a tree, someone's dog, your own hand. I think this is less about honing your techniques and more about honing your eyes, training them to snag on everyday things and observe their complexities, the nuances, the way they really look, not just the way you think of them looking.

When you're a kid and you're drawing your first landscape, it's probably a house and a tree under a yellow sun in a blue sky. The tree looks like a lollipop, the house looks like a box with a hat, the sun is an egg yolk surrounded by lines, the sky is the bluest crayon you have. Maybe it has fluffy clouds in it if you were thinking ahead, cuz it's hard to draw white crayon or pencil over already blue drawings. This hypothetical drawing is a pure manifestation of art without artist's eyes; it is made entirely of what you understand things to look like, not how you see them. No real tree looks like a green lollipop. The sun is a blazing white ball that shades half of the dome of the sky in painfully bright white, and the sky is only blue in the loosest sense - even without clouds or sunsets confusing things, the sky will always fade to a lighter shade closer to the horizon. It is never uniform blue. Clouds usually look like shredded cottonballs around the edges, not fluffy rounded boubas.

This awareness extends to more complicated things. We know glass is clear. When we draw something made of glass, how can we capture that clarity? Do we just draw the outline, maybe some token specular highlights to show that it's catching the light? Or do we render the way it bends and distorts the image passing through it? We know gold is yellow and shiny; do we draw it as a yellow sparkly thing, or do we capture how it reflects the space around it? We know that water is blue and reflective. Do we draw it like we would draw a shiny blue car? Do we render a glass of water like a blue raspberry icee?

Actively perceiving the world as it is takes work and practice, but it's a vital component in all art - even completely fantastical art that is not at all drawn from life references. Skin has a particular luminosity to it, subcutaneous scattering of light that is inobvious if you just know that Skin Looks Like A Color. Even if you're painting a goblin or a mermaid or a centaur, capturing how the light hits their skin can make the difference between them looking like an action figure and looking like a living thing. If you're painting a landscape that isn't earth, it helps to have observed what earth's clouds and atmosphere really look like, how they catch and scatter the light. You have to know the rules in order to break the rules.

I can honestly say it never gets easy, but it does become a lot of fun, and if you're currently struggling to find the fun of it, it will get better the more you hone your eyes.

[deathofacupid]

a/n: in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.

gojo x bimbo!reader. gojo lives for your bimbo energy. he's a chaos god in his own right, so your shared love of all things sparkly, frivolous, and utterly extra is a match made in heaven. he showers you with designer everything, not just because he's rich, but because he genuinely enjoys seeing you light up over a new lip gloss or a ridiculously fluffy keychain. he'll even indulge your more… interesting fashion choices, like that time you decided to bedazzle his sunglasses. he secretly thought they looked better that way. and when you get all flustered and confused trying to explain something, he finds it absolutely adorable. he'll tease you relentlessly, of course, but it's all in good fun. he's got a whole folder of pictures of you making silly faces.

geto x bimbo!reader. geto and you are the ultimate self-care duo. face masks, bubble baths, the latest celebrity gossip magazines – you're both obsessed. he genuinely enjoys the pampering just as much as you do. he'll even help you pick out the perfect shade of nail polish, offering surprisingly insightful opinions. your girly nights are legendary, filled with laughter, whispered secrets, and an endless supply of snacks. he appreciates your positive energy and how you always manage to find the silver lining, even when things get tough. plus, he's not going to lie, seeing you look absolutely stunning always makes his heart skip a beat.

nanami x bimbo!reader. nanami, the epitome of logic and reason, is utterly charmed by your… unique way of thinking. he finds your questions baffling sometimes, but he never dismisses them. he patiently explains complex concepts, breaking them down into bite-sized pieces until you (sort of) understand. he's secretly fascinated by how your brain works, or rather, how it doesn't work in the way he expects. he'd never admit it, but he finds your naiveté refreshing. and that little furrow in your brow when you're concentrating? absolutely melts him.

choso x bimbo!reader. you and choso are two peas in a pod, blissfully unaware of… well, most things. you share a profound connection based on mutual confusion and a love of all things cute and cuddly. you spend your days making flower crowns, trying (and failing) to bake elaborate cakes, and having deep conversations about the meaning of life (which usually devolve into giggling fits). he's your biggest cheerleader, always hyping you up, even when you've just tripped over your own feet for the fifth time. together, you navigate the world with a combination of optimism and sheer dumb luck, somehow always landing on your feet.

toji x bimbo!reader. toji is completely baffled by you. he can't understand how someone can be so… oblivious. but your cluelessness is also strangely endearing. he'd never admit it, but he finds your reactions when you're confused hilarious. he'll watch you struggle with something simple for a while before finally taking pity and helping you out, all while trying to maintain his grumpy facade. he's also strangely protective of you, even though he'd probably deny it if asked. and he definitely, definitely wouldn't admit that he secretly finds your "pink puppy" look adorable.

sukuna x bimbo!reader. sukuna, the king of curses, has become your personal dress-up dummy. you have an endless supply of bows, ribbons, and other sparkly accessories, and he's your favorite subject. he tolerates it (mostly) because, well, you're surprisingly persistent, and he finds your enthusiasm nice. he might even find a tiny bit of amusement in it. he'd never admit that he secretly enjoys the attention. he just rolls his eyes and lets you have your fun, knowing that eventually, you'll get bored and move on to something else. he's learned to strategically place things so that the bows don't actually impede his movements too much.

[colossrat]

Billy likes to be independent, he is a little homeless boy who fights life tooth and nail. He always needs to be strong to show society that he doesn't need, much less want, an adult in his life sending him here and there.

But he doesn't need to fight to prove himself strong when he already looks strong. Billy can't ask for help as Billy because that will bring trouble or an adult trying to dad him

But Cap? he can let himself be vulnerable as Cap, even if he doesn't need help, he can ask for it. Marvel will just be a friend in need of help and no one will treat him like a helpless child for that

So, after a good few months, if not years, of becoming friends with his league colleagues, the captain starts to show how he loves having people around him for little things.

he wants to open a jar from the kitchen. He has the strength to go head to head with Superman, but he would never miss the opportunity to ask Superman himself to do it for him. Clark always gets a little confused, because the pot isn't that tight, or tight at all, but he always helps because he sees how it brings a genuine and happy smile to his colleague.

Does he need a snack? He will ask Flash to prepare something for him, saying that the food he makes is the best and with the best flavor.

captain has a problem with magic, he is completely capable of solving it himself, but he will knock on zatanna's door to ask for advice, potions, a protection spell and even a good luck hug if he feels she wouldn't refuse

There's a new movie, he doesn't even want to see it that much, but he's going to ask Cyborg if he can make the movie show in the watchtower break room because he finds the control and streaming platforms confusing

He will ask Batman silly questions, or even prepare complex questions with Solomon's help so he can ask and listen for hours while the bat explains things to him. Not that he didn't already know the answers or couldn't find them in the rock's library of infinite knowledge. but he likes to have someone talking and explaining things to him with so much patience, teaching and even being happy to have someone to listen to his knowledge

Are they going on a water mission? He will ask Aquaman for tips on how to swim faster or more efficiently

Is he having a slower day? Why not ask the Martian Hunter to accompany him to a cat cafe? Ask what are the best sweets or brands of cookies? ask for help to bake a cake or taste the frosting, a brigadeiro

He's having problems with his communicator, better go see Red Tornado if he has tips on how to use it without confusing the private lines again, or ask if he has some free time to go for a fly through some storms. He makes hurricanes, he must like storms just like him, right?

There is a dangerous magical temple sending dangerous magical frequencies, he can destroy it alone, but he asks the hawkwoman for help to put everything down with her mace

there's a cockroach in the watchtower… better ask dr.fate for help to kill it

A LADYBUG ON THE WATCHTOWER?! Call the jl green lanterns asap so they can conjure up a green safe pot to transport her back to earth!!

Did he fall? He wasn't even hurt, but he's going to ask Diana to check if he doesn't have a bump on his head. Diana understands where her little brother's requests come from, and she never unmasks him, she just takes the opportunity to make her little brother happy without feeling bad about asking for help.

Now, a hero approaches little Billy with a piece of food? oh. he will bite off your fingers and throw the food back in your face (not really because that would be wasteful, but he would return the food and tell you to eat it yourself, that he would get food for himself on his own)

He can be feral, try to teach him a life lesson and he will teach YOU a life lesson.

His shoelaces are untied and he just stuck them inside his shoe? you leave his shoelace inside the shoe. If a hero, be it the Man Of Steel himself, bends down to tie his shoelaces, OH MY, he'll kick you in the face and scream that you're not supposed to touch his stuff

Unless that you are also a child or mr tawny, then he maybe either accept your help or gently refuse

[queervegancryptid]

What's really bizarre to me is how this sort of thing dovetails with the mentality a lot of these people have in terms of, like, the prosperity gospel doctrine common to a lot of religious conservatives. It took me a really long time to wrap my head around it in this way.

I added a cut because this got long. But I think it's important for anyone trying to make sense of this kind of bullshit to understand this as part of the why. I grew up around it, and it still took me a long time to understand its role in all this. I don't think it necessarily applies to RFK Jr, but it applies to a lot of conservatives, in and out of government. So I think it's relevant.

For anybody who doesn't know, the prosperity gospel thinking of which I speak is basically the idea that how good you have it and how well your life is going is a direct result of your status in the eyes of God. That is to say, it isn't just that they think they deserve good things, but more than that, they think having good things is a sign of being a good person, so your socioeconomic status is seen as a direct reflection of how good or bad a person you are. This also goes along with the idea that, without this "God" as they understand it, there is no morality at all.

The flip side of this is that they fully believe not having good things is a sign you don't deserve them because God has decided you're not deserving, and who are these good Christians if they hubristically question God's plan? So if you lose your job, your home, etc, they don't necessarily see themselves as having a community obligation to help you. They see it as your fuck up, and you need to get right with the Lord.

In other words, how good or bad your life is is directly proportional to how much or how little God approves of you. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away, and it's your own fault if you haven't managed to be pure enough to earn a good life.

What we see here is that mentality applied to illness. And it isn't actually new, in terms of how they think of disability being something you can avoid if you're truly deserving of having a healthy body that works as expected. If you don't have that, that's a "you" problem. Even if it's caused by something preventable or something that wouldn't have caused a disabling condition to occur, had the person had access to care, they still see it as a reflection of them having earned it in some way by not being better in the eyes of God.

Basically what I'm saying is that they don't care if children or old people or immune compromised people or literally any group I could name dies of COVID or any of the other illnesses that are preventable via vaccination or other means or from an otherwise treatable condition. They don't care about any of that, because if the little kid was supposed to be healthy, God wouldn't have let them get COVID/flu/polio/etc.

There are definitely also people who are just, well, stupid. Like folks who think vaccines cause autism. Even if they did, that would make it a pretty easy choice: maybe having an autistic child OR having your (maybe, but not guaranteed) neurotypical child get seriously ill and maybe die from illnesses that they would otherwise be a lot more protected from. So they're basically saying that they'd rather have a sick or dead child than an autistic one, and as an autistic person, I'm offended and hurt by that mentality, but more than that, if you feel that way, you probably shouldn't be having children in the first place.

But the prosperity gospel complex is real and deeply shapes a lot of the mentality of people who voted based on crap like vaccine mandates and mask mandates. It's a very real "I got mine, so I must be good with God, and everyone else is on their own, including children and people at high risk I could be protecting by being responsible. If they get sick and die, that's on them."

They're all going to the Bad Place, if there is one. But I'm just trying to get people to understand the mentality involved here. It generally isn't worth arguing with people who think that way, but if you're going to engage, you should know this is what you're up against. And I really hope it helps some folks understand that this is part of what we're up against. Once you see it through that lens, a lot of the crazy bullshit they pull becomes predictable. No less horrifying, but less jarring in a way, at least to me.

I also think it's generally good to, for want of a better phrase, "know your enemy." Not for the purposes of reasoning with them, necessarily, because this is often impossible. But understanding how this fucked up machine works is a good thing, and this is part of what feeds into it.

Still, sometimes a monster is just a monster. And not in a fun Tumblr way, but in a Strange New Worlds gorn type of way: you can't reason with it, and it wants to kill you and is definitely very capable. (I know we got monsterfuckers here, and probably some of you would be down to clown with gorn, but let me have my metaphor here pls. No judgement, just not the point of this post lol)

Sorry this got long. I grew up around these people, and sometimes I forget I know about the culture in some ways others may not. So I see posts with people (rightly) outraged by things like this, wondering how any reasonable person could be okay with this. And the thing is, they aren't reasonable. Stop expecting reasonable behavior out of these people, because you'll just be disappointed and aggravated. I know some of this seems crazy, and that's because it is. It's insidious in so many ways, too.

My dad used to say, "Never argue with a pig. It won't work, and it just irritates the pig." Sometimes that's true. Sometimes, though, the pig likes it, and you just end up covered in shit, because that's what pigs do. Save yourself the trouble.

I don't think children should die of preventable diseases just because their parents are freaks.

RFK Jr. and Red State paternalism are a deadly mix for innocent children.

Mind you, RFK is vaccinated AND he vaccinated his own kids. But, you can die.

[angelfishe]

# 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃

Genshin man x reader

Character : alhaitham, diluc, zhongli, ayato.

You love them with your heart but why would he love you when he's surrounded with more beautiful and talented people more than you, maybe leaving would be a good option you wouldn't burden them as well they could move on into a much better option than you. Disappearing from their life completely

Warning : The reader has an inferiority complex, as well mention of suicide and self harming.

ALHAITHAM

Among the seas of students of the akedemiya there are always ones that shine brighter than the others and alhaitham is no exception, one of the most shining stars that would live brighter than the others. While you are by far a regular spantammad student the only difference is that both of you and him are childhood friends.

Unfortunately for you to fail to see the worth for yourself in his life, he would live a much better life without you interrupting his journeys. So when you hear that there's gonna be an expedition towards outside of sumeru you take it, planning on staying out of his life as much as long as possible even meaning being away from your homeland.

You prevent him from knowing about the expedition, knowing that he would try to convince you to quit it as well making him stress about you leaving making sure you would go unnoticed. Soon he realizes every time you visit your house it becomes less crowded and stuff is neatly packed in a box. He started to be suspicious of what was going on.

So when you invite him towards the bar to hang out, he had a bad feeling this would be the last time seeing you. But he pushed it aside because you're here right now not knowing that the goodbye you wave to each other was the last one. Your presence disappears and when he visits your place it is dead silent not a single thing of your stuff.

DILUC

Coming from a lesser noble clan on mondstat your duty was to be served to someone as wife or decorations. And diluc was the one you were destined to be with on the paper agreement with the previous lord of dawn winery.

It's confusing honestly out of all the options of the daughter of another noble family they chose to be his betrothed. You and him would have play dates together to make you two grow closer but sometimes these playdates would include other noble children like jean from the gundihir clan another noble clan as the ragdnivir. To be honest you understand why he would choose jean in the future she's beautiful I mean if you were in his position you would choose Jean.

Unknowningly diluc was the one that chose you when he took a look at the picture of future spouse for him and when he took a glimpse at your portrait it was love first sight you were the one he dreamed to be with and grow a family. Unfortunately you are unable to see that just like a butterfly is unable to see their own beauty.

When he was at snezhnaya you took this opportunity to finally leave for good packing up your stuff without telling anyone even your parents, so when he returned you were nowhere to be found everyone couldn't find you, you were gone. You believe he would be better without you but in truth he was miserable The world was dark and grey and you were the color and now you're gone and he will use anything to find you.

ZHONGLI

Being a minor goddess that joined alliance with him, you didn't expect he would go infatuated with you. He would willingly risk his life for you rescuing you from a monster that was threatening to kill you and when you saw how injured he was after the fight you realized you were a burden to him.

You fully know your weak compared to the other adepti or gods, your domain is small similar to harvia your best friend and you see your fate will happen similar to her being too weak and your people or your close will kill you if you keep being like this. Seeing you as a weakness for rex lapis and if you die his weakness will die. His people and the other need him more than you.

One day, you hear that a new monster has been rampaging and you believe this would be a good way to finally rid of yourself so people won't question your intention. You grab your weapon and ready to the battlefield, when rex lapis got word he arrived you were unfortunately dead watching your body being devoured by the beast.

From that day he blamed himself for your demise as well asking why would recklessly charge yourself to battle after knowing your weakness, in modern liyue he felt a sense of familiarity and saw you walking maybe it's not too late to love you this time he shows you how much he loves you.

AYATO

You couldn't blame him for hiding you from the world knowing a relationship with a master and a servant would be heavily forbidden by the public as well being one of his weaknesses, he needs to appear untouchable in front of the public as well as his enemies to protect you and the clan.

In close door he loves you and showers you with gifts and affection while on the outside he treats you as if you were just a normal servant under his orders another disposable chest piece.

When you were poison, hes eyes would instantly went towards your form but unable to reach you because people were dragging you away and he need to show face of a composed person but how can he act when the love of his eyes was dying in the other room.

One day a resignation letter appeared at his office when he was not at home and thoma informed him you left a day before leaving a letter telling him to move on and love another person and not you. He track your footprints and found you at sumeru studying there as a new student and new alias he ready a ship because he's gonna need explanation from you what you mean move on. Come back to his arms please if you won't he's gonna die without your touch

[scliffe]

I know most of us (including me) laughed (quite a lot) on this scene because; Earl Ciel “Sebastian-Kill-Them-All” Phantomhive of all people, is saying something like this about killing people? It sounds so fake and ridiculous right? Hypocritical, even. But I also think it’s rather empathetic of Ciel to say this in front of the Weston boys because he understands that these boys did not murder out of evil intent; it was a crime of passion, not premeditated. I’m sure that in Ciel’s eyes, these upperclassmen of his are still much more innocent than he is—and so when he speaks to them, he is speaking to “normal people”, not serial murderers. But while Ciel does not see the prefects as evil people, he doesn’t infantilize them either. He does not empathize with them trying to justify their actions; because things like school values or reputation is not a worthy cause for these boys to kill someone over. At the same time Ciel may not personally care about the lives of Derrick Arden and the others, but he does not think students should turn into murderers over such menial issues.

In comparison, when he speaks to Joker in BOC, he was unfiltered and candid—he’s speaking of something he personally believes; that deep cynicism and distrust in humanity. Unlike the Weston students, Joker’s actions were premeditated; he planned to kidnap children—knowing they would be abused and turned into some sick plaything before brutally murdered—and methodically eliminated witnesses to avoid getting caught. Joker knew exactly what he was doing when he organized these crimes to sacrifice others for his family’s lives. And yet the way Ciel spoke, he wasn’t passing judgement on Joker at all; he acutely understood the despair of facing injustice with no one lending a helping hand; the desperate wish to protect one’s family and loved ones above what’s considered to be morally correct by society; he knows better than anyone else how hell is paved with good intentions. This too, was incredibly empathetic in a strange way that only Ciel could be. Although Joker lamented their fate as abandoned orphans living in an apathetic society, Ciel does not pity them and thus did not simply reduce them to gullible victims of their circumstances. He did not justify Joker’s actions, and he did not justify his own actions in killing Joker and the circus crew either—he was incredibly self aware and fair; equally as ruthless to other people as with himself. He understood that everyone acted in their own interests. By removing complicated principles of morality out of the equation, he is able to see things clearly and act decisively without ridiculous notions of human morality. After all, what use does he have for it when his soul is already damned anyway?

Ciel keeps away from people and refrains from making personal attachments; and yet he is still very empathetic to each of them without even meaning to. In the flashbacks, he was also depicted to be a sensitive and kindhearted child. Despite everything he has gone through, he still retains a bit of that gentleness and sincerity from his childhood; which I think comes with being naturally emotionally intelligent—he has an unusually acute insight on people which certainly helps his business acumen, and ironically also helps him know how to lie and act in front of other people. While Sebastian is a “master of understanding human desires”, Ciel understands the complexity and most basic nature of humanity better than anyone else; which forms both his cynicism and his own brand of empathy.

[miradelletarot]

As someone who also identifies with Gale because of his experiences, I'm with you. People do not seem to understand that when abuse is all you know, the cycle is easily repeated. So of course he's going to do some not-so-great things to get what he wants because it's all under the guise of trying to be better. To do more. To be useful. The road is paved with good intentions, after all.

Diminishing his character would be to (imho here, don't come for me...) allow him to become a god (which, imho, strips him of everything that makes him *Gale*. His humanity, his passion, his zeal for life etc.) he wants to become a god because he thinks he can be better than them, but what happens is that he becomes a shell of the man tav once knew. Also, on the flip side, if we reduce him to simply nothing more than a person without any wrongdoing whatsoever, it strips away the complexity of his being, in the way of doing not so great things to try and get what he wants because what he wants is power. Maybe that power isn't to do big, bad, evil things, but his desire to be free of the gods who "use us a playthings" is him subconsciously screaming for agency and freedom, albeit in the most unhealthy way.

And I realize this is not a popular take, but I like Gale for the complexity he has. He's not a perfect angel, but that's boring. Yes, he's my sweet, adorable malewife, and squishy house hubby, but he's a curious mind. He's GOING to try and stick his hand in the proverbial cookie jar and hope there's no negative consequences.

Imho, out of all the characters, he's the most human and relatable. Not to diminish the core struggles of the other characters bc at the bare bones level they are all relatable in some way, but Gale's whole situation is so very...human.

I won't go into my whole life story to explain how this relates so hard with me. No one needs that. I will say though, that I understand his choices even if they aren't the best ones. That's why, for better or worse, he and the other companions have Tav to either encourage or prevent poor choices.

I love his complexity and how questionable he may be at times, but I do still believe, at his core, Gale's a good person. (Don't get me started on his alignment... That's a hill I'll die on).

We see this a lot in books, movies and TV. Think... Breaking bad for example. Walter White was a simple high school teacher, living as a poor middle class, average man. He does something completely out of character with the intention that he's only doing what he needs to provide for his family. In turn, he realizes that he thirsts for the danger and excitement because it deviates so wildly from what he knew. That power is a rush, a drug in itself. Sure he's making an illicit substance (you know what) but the real drug is the adrenaline rush of power and control because he never had that before. His desperate desire to be a good provider and not fail his family, took him down a darker path and turned him into something that his family ultimately rejected.

Again, the road is paved with good intentions. What Gale and Walter White have in common is that they are both trying to do better. To be more valuable, useful. Loved for what they can do and what they can provide to those around them. The end goal, however, isn't all that glamorous if they are left to their own devices.

I didn't mean to go off on a tangent here, but tldr: I agree with op.

I was trying to read some arguments on the whole "did mystra groom gale" debate. It doesn't make too much of a difference to me whether she did groom him or not because the relationship was still deeply unhealthy even without the grooming aspect. As a csa survivor, I tend to accept the grooming interpretation simply because I see a lot of myself in him. Out of the whole cast of companions, it's him that's painfully relatable oftentimes. I do understand this interpretation might not be canon though, so I wanted to look more into it to see the truth.

But aside from that, I saw people arguing that turning gale into some victim of mystra would diminish his character arc because gale would be lacking in agency and that it excuses all his wrongdoings and that... irked me.

A person being a victim doesn't mean they're free from all blame and are some sad little meow meow. We see this in ascended astarion, who falls into the victim becoming the abuser cycle.

It's a very black and white view of victims that would ultimately do more harm than good because it leads people to being dismissive of real victims because they don't fit the pure and ideal mold of one.

[velvetvexations]

"All other men have male privilege why don't trans men?"

Actually there's a complex discussion relevant to intersectionality about how many marginalized men are systemtically degendered and dehumanized but also have you considered....those other marginalizations....don't inherently affect their gender...?

RIGHT. Like. A Black man is at a disadvantage because of his race and misandrynoir is a recognized thing in published acedemia, but they are not directly interwined the way a trans man is inherently, literally not considered a member of the gender designated "Man" even scientifically by transphobes. The only way for them to have male privilage is for them to not be oppressed at all, since denying their manhood is precisely the basis of their transphobic oppression. "Man who is not afforded male privilage" is practically the definition of what a trans man fundementally is. The whole transmasculine experience is centered around trying to fight to be seen as a man.

You would think that people who fight very, very hard to be considered a woman would understand this. Oh, wait, they think transphobes do know trans women are women and are simply lying about their beliefs to be mean. Of course, I forgot that trans men being socially accepted as men is a key part of their gender validation, because if trans men aren't accepted as men it must mean that it's possible for some people to truly not believe they're women, and that would break their little hearts.

[ghostgirl-22]

Not necessarily sexual, but what if Art takes care of Patrick for once?

Patrick is upset over something cruel his father told him and wakes Art up with his sniffling. Patrick never cries so Art is immediately alarmed and tries to get him to open up. Patrick tries to mask his feelings at first, but eventually breaks down and cries into Art’s chest. They fall asleep with Patrick being the little spoon for once, wrapped in Art’s arms.

I chopped this up a lot but I think I got to the core of your ask nonnie <3 Idk why in my head I could see Patrick just being the whacky charming youngest and favorite of his parents. Forgive my typos… happy Valentine’s Day maybe I’m gonna write a valentines fic tomorrow when Valentine’s Day is over. Anyway love y’all.

TW: period typical homophobia, use of a slur, internalized homophobia, otherwise SFW.

——

Patrick does this thing where he acts like nothing gets to him. Like nothing can hurt him. For a while Art was envious because he believed the act. Now he knows better. He sees it now… the way Patrick will smile even more when his eyes are sad. The way he’ll shrug and then fidget, fingertips tapping a fragile rhythm like the physical act of it can divert the pain away. The way he goes quiet. 

Still he never saw Patrick cry before this summer. It’s their last summer break before senior year. They’ve been spending at least a few weeks together every summer since they were 12, going back and forth between each other's houses. Patrick’s summer house in Connecticut, Art’s family home in Massachusetts. It was easy. Patrick had the bigger house of course, the bigger bedroom, all the latest game systems, a tennis court. So many places on his family's estate to hang out and explore. 

Patrick’s family is a little more complex than Arts though. 

It’s no secret Patrick doesn’t get along with his older brother, Levi. Art actually doesn’t like him either. He’s ten years older then them and he’s everything that Patrick isn’t, more smarmy than charming, flashy and pretentious, lording his daddy’s money around and reminding Patrick that it’s his birth right. He’s a lawyer now and already works for their dad’s company. But all it takes is five minutes talking to their tennis loving dad to understand why Levi hates Patrick. 

“Tennis is such a beautiful game. I played for years but never came close to what you and Patrick can do on that court.” Patrick’s dad says wistfully. He would often stand courtside to watch them play in the summers.

Levi is no athlete. He doesn’t even like sports and there’s Patrick, the apple of their fathers eye because he can hit a ball with a racket. 

If Levi were less of an asshole, Art might actually relate to him. But he’s a total dick. He loves to make it known that Patrick was a ’mistake’. “Mom and dad were perfectly happy with the three of us,” he says of himself and Patrick’s older sisters one Friday night in July. 

That clearly bothered Patrick at one point but he’s used to it now. “Yeah and imagine how boring that would’ve been. One lame ass son.” Patrick mutters and Art grins. They’re eating ice cream in the oversized kitchen while Levi lingers at the wine cooler, pouring himself a glass. He watches as Patrick takes some of Art’s ice cream, his gaze cool. 

“I’d be careful if I were you Art, you know he’s a fag right?”

Art raises his eyebrows. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Patrick snaps. 

“Oh, he doesn’t know?” Levi’s eyes light up, gleefully. “Sarah caught him last weekend kissing the pool boy, the help of all people, moaning like a freak.” 

“I said shut up,” Patrick says, his voice cold. Art has never seen his cheeks turn so red before.    

Levi lets out a cruel little giggle. “Wait till dad finds out you're the fruity one. I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you, Art. You never know, you seem like his type. He might try something.” 

“I’ll fucking kill you if you say another word, fucking asshole,” Patrick shouts. 

“Don’t worry little brother, I’m sure they love butt boys in pro tennis,” Levi smirks, self satisfied in Art’s direction and takes his glass of wine back to the office where he’s been working. 

Art is tongue tied, barely able to make his brain connect to his mouth. He’s feeling all kinds of things, not even sure what half of the things he’s feeling even mean but he knows he’s furious on Patrick’s behalf. He glances at Patrick and that’s all it takes for Art to know what Levi said was true. He’s still red faced, fists clenched, staring angrily at the bowl of ice cream like it was the one who said those horrible things to him. And then he gets up and leaves the kitchen abruptly.  

“Wait Patrick,” Art says but he doesn’t stop. Art sighs and gets up following him to the bedroom. He’s several paces behind and when he gets inside Patrick has fallen to the bedroom floor, actually sobbing. Head in his hands. Art can’t believe his eyes. In all the years he’s known him, he’s never seen more than the slight sparkle when his eyes well up tears. If he didn’t before, he really fucking hates Levi now.

He gets down on his knees next to Patrick. 

“Art can you go, I need to be alone,” he mutters, chest heaving. 

“No,” Art says, he’s not sure how to do this but he wants to be there for Patrick. “He’s a fucking loser. Do you want me to beat his dweeby ass?”

Patrick sniffles a laugh and shakes his head. 

“He’s just pissed because…” Art rubs Patrick’s shoulder, a gentle pattern. “Fuck him okay I mean…” He doesn’t know what to say… or why he keeps thinking about the pool boy, Armando, tall, athletic, brown eyes, and long dark blonde hair. He looks and sounds like a surfer, but not from California but whatever beach they have in Spain. Art can’t get him out of his head for some reason. 

“It’s true,” Patrick mutters after a while looking up at him. “I think I… I do like boys.” 

Art presses his lips together, nodding. “That’s um— that’s okay, man. Uh… remember um… Calvin from the team… Calvin said he uh he kissed a guy before.” He takes a breath. He has to do better than this, but he’s starting to fixate on the color of Patrick’s eyes. He never realized how colorful they were. Now that they’re wet it’s like they sparkle. 

”I dont… I would never do anything to you… like… like what my brother was saying okay?” Patrick sniffles. 

Art swallows. God now he’s fixating on Patrick’s lips. God damn it. He needs to be fucking normal. Patrick is his best friend for crying out loud. Art wraps his arms around Patrick and closes his eyes. “Fuck him, man. He’s a homophobic asshole. If you’re gay then—”

”I’m not gay…” Patrick says softly. Art can practically feel his voice vibrating in his ear. There’s a strange familiar feeling at the base of his stomach, his instinct is to pull away but he holds on. 

“You’re not?” He doesn’t mean to sound relieved, fuck. 

“I’m bisexual,” Patrick murmurs. He pulls out of the hug and gets to his feet, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms. “I’m just…” he laughs. “I’m a fucking mess. He’s hot and the way he was looking at me in the pool. I brought him to my room and well we just started exploring… I should’ve known we wouldn’t get any privacy here. Sarah just barged into my room and she can’t keep her fucking mouth shut. My dad is… well… I don’t fucking care.” He flops down onto his bed and takes a deep breath. 

Art crawls over on his knees. “Does he know?” 

“Not yet,” Patrick says, “but he’ll know as soon as he gets back from his business trip. Levi will make sure of that.” 

“Well,” Art crawls onto the bed and lies down next to him. “Not if we kill him first.” 

Patrick looks at him and then laughs. Art grins, happy to make him smile. He feels warm all of a sudden.  

Patrick sighs. “You want to play Mario kart?” 

“Yeah.”  

They lay down for an hour, only really chatting about the game. Patrick starts to get sleepy, it’s clear he’s still upset. He puts his controller down. Art turns off the game and settles next to him in the dark. His mind has been racing the whole time. Patrick’s never cried in front of him before so it feels like something has shifted.

“My dad isn’t gonna look at me the same,” he laughs but there’s a bitterness in it.

“You don’t… you don’t know that.” Art says gently.

“You think it’s weird, don’t you?” he rolls over to face Art.

“No,” Art says quickly. His parents had always taught him to be accepting of people’s differences. They always supported gay rights. But there was this part of Art that knew that their tolerance was only meant for other people. Unlike Patrick he was the only boy, he was expected to be traditional. 

“You’re a bad liar,” Patrick sighs. 

“I mean I think I’m just trying to process it. I had no idea and now it’s just…” Art takes a deep breath. 

“You really had no idea?”

“Well it’s not like you told me, and you…we always talk about girls.”

Patrick gazes at him. “Fair enough.”

“What’s it like?” The question just spills out of him, he can’t stop himself. 

”Hm?” 

Now it’s his turn to feel his skin heat up. Why is he so fixated on the stupid kiss? “Sorry it’s not important…never mind. I guess I just figured it’d be different then… uh never mind.”

”It’s a little different but the same in all the ways that matter,” Patrick says. He’s sniffling again. Art licks his lips and scoots closer to him. Patrick looks down, following the movement. 

“I could uh… I could show you.” 

Art thinks he’s joking and smiles, Patrick holds his gaze a little longer and Art swallows, something all too familiar suddenly thrumming through his body. But it makes no fucking sense. He can’t really be turned on by this. “You’re um… you’re serious?” 

Patrick laughs, “God,” he says, shaking his head. 

“What?” Art says. 

“Nothing, I’m a fucking mess. Can you…hold me until I fall asleep?” It’s Patrick using Art’s own words. Spoken a number of times when they were kids and he’d asked Patrick to do it in his grandmother's place when he was having trouble adjusting to boarding school.  

Patrick never told anyone about it, never even made fun of him which was surprising, considering he ribs Art about almost everything. Art isn’t sure what he’s feeling but he nods, “of course,” and lets Patrick settle into his arms. They lie in bed, Art keeping Patrick safe from the world for just a little bit. Inseparable, like two colors bleeding into each other, until they both fall asleep.  

[nonexistentirl]

I've been thinking. Dragons are the greatest beings in the world right? The rulers of mana, the living gods. With a flick of their wrist they can perform complex magic that human mages need to cast many complicated circles for. So here's the thing. Why do almost all the dragons have humanoid forms? Save for Raon, who simply refuses to polymorph, and Eruhaben, whose polymorphed form is an elf (which is not so different from a human) every other dragon we have come across across three worlds now has a human form. Sure, the human form is smaller than their real one. Convenient, easy to move around in. Easy to blend in into the human society. But the thing is, why do they need to blend in? Dragons like Exion and Eruhaben are exceptions who like to mingle with the humans. But dragons with superiority complexes like pretty much every other dragon we saw on Aipotu, and the loner dragons of Nameless 1 like Rasheel. Why do they need a human form? Why don't they ever polymorph into something like, idk, a cat? Maybe a freaking swan? Why always a human? Mila is understandable. But why did Rasheel appear in his human form at the palace (during his first appearance) when appearing in his dragon form would have been much more intimidating? He didn't have any reason to be considerate because he was pissed for having his sleep disturbed. And for beings at the pinnacle of magic it doesn't even make sense to take the humanoid form for the sake of convenience, because they can literally do nearly everything through magic! And creatures who are considered the most prideful and adamant about being unique to the point they don't take after their own parents, does it make sense to try to take the form of "lesser" creatures like humans? Again, Eruhaben and Exion are supposed to be exceptions. So why is almost every dragon we come across in humanoid form? I just don't understand!

[silliestsmigglesalive]

I mean I can see the whole anorexia thing, but I don't think socializing is necessary. I mean, I do most of my socializing online and I am completely fine. But it was how he liked it. I don't see the point in making yourself uncomfortable because "we as humans are a social species" There's much more complexities to human nature. I also think self destruction as a whole isn't necessarily a bad thing. People kill themselves and hurt themselves to cope with the misery of life. Hell, I cut myself. I also don't see the problem in things like self harm. If you do it correctly it's very soothing and honestly beautiful (In my opinion) But then again, it's unconventional and many people are against it. I can't count how many times i've hurt myself just for the sake of how it looks on me and I've been involuntarily hospitalized. I had no suicidal ideation and no intention to kill myself. Yet, they still tried intervening. So many times, people are hospitalized and get no help whatsoever. I have lost count how many times It's happened to me and even going as far as being sent to a residential treatment center. They try so hard to correct mentally ill individuals. You can't cure it. Most of the times it occurs naturally or due to things you cannot control. Suicide is natural. If we weren't meant to die, then why does it happen? Why prolong an existence that is useless, miserable or painful? It's going to happen eventually, so why endure any more unnecessary harm?

Just my opinion though. I do enjoy discussing topics like this. So I do appreciate your insight and conversating. I actually find immense pleasure in arguing/debating with people as it allows me to speak how I feel without being directly prompted. Even if the other person doesn't understand or care, I still feel great that I could speak about it. Even better if the individual is intelligent and can conversate properly and respond with things that actually make me have to stop and think.

Thank you :)

lucy letby again :-3

[chaifootsteps]

hard agree that Stolas is worse - tbh I think it's the self-delusional victim complex that makes Stolas feel worse than Stella

when Stella hurts someone, she does it on purpose and would crow about it. the only exceptions are probably imps who she hurts because she sees them as beneath her and like furniture - that's the closest she gets to Stolas' brand of ignorance and malic.

meanwhile when Stolas hurts someone, either no he didn't or he didn't mean to or whoever he hurt just doesn't understand whatever thing totally lets him off the hook. On top of the sexual abuse that he can only admit to in brief moments (then immediately act shocked when anyone gets mad at him for it), there's such a disconnect in terms of how he seems to see himself as this kind guy who's trying his best and so put upon by the world (and is such a good ally to the lower classes, you guys), and who cries and assumes as long as his feelings are hurt whoever called him out is in the wrong.

knowing someone like Stella in real life wouldn't be pleasant, but she owns her cattiness and enjoys it. she might even probably be good company if you had a bad ex and needed someone to rag on them with

meanwhile knowing someone like Stolas in real life would just be nonstop disappointment, confusion and the frustration of trying to have the basic respect of being seen like a person.

it'd be having someone act nice and then continually let you down and when it's pointed out, they either promise to change and don't or get mad and deny they ever did anything wrong (and then don't change). a real life Stolas would probably have a long string of people not in his life anymore who all have stories about how he screwed them over but none of them feel like they can talk about it except to each other because Stolas has such a sensitive, nice veneer. and that's not even getting into the number of times an IRL Stolas would push someone's boundaries and then refuse to own up to it

I feel like it definitely says something that Stella, as abrasive and catty as she can be, frequently enjoys tea parties and throwing regular parties and has many, many friends. She's exactly who she is and hides literally nothing, holds nothing back, even when it would be to her advantage to do so.

Stolas will hurt you and try to make you believe it's your fault, and that's insidious and scary.

[sweetm4ri]

⭑𓂃 𝐆𝗂𝗋ᥣ 𝐒𝗍υ𝖿𝖿 ꩜ .ᐟ

──────────୨ৎ──────────

WARNINGS :: Akutagawa Ryūnosuke / Dazai Osamu / Fyodor Dostoevsky / Ranpo Edogawa / Chūya Nakahara x F!Reader (separately); Already established relationships; Angst (on the Fyodor part); Anxious reader (on the Chūya part); Slightly mentions of dark themes, not much, but can trigger some people that are scared to walk alone at night (on the Ranpo part)

SINOPSE :: Problems that you have to deal with being a girl on different situations with male bsd characters.

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Note :: To all the girls.

⭑𓂃 Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

It was a hot day, not a cozy, warm day or a little bit cold one. It was a hot day. An extremely hot one. It was like the devil had decided to pass his home to here.

You, noticing the good and normal temperature in the morning, decided to only wear a sweater, with nothing underneath, only your intimate clothes.

It would be fine. But in this moment, it was like you were in a toaster, almost creaming or falling apart.

You shacked your hands in front of your neck, going back and forth with the cloth piece, trying to make a ventilation or something like that. Your dear one, only looking at you with those dark eyes that you could easily read through.

"What? Don't judge." You say, not even bodering with explaining everything.

"Why are you doing that? Just take the sweater off." He pointed, making everything sound too simple, very, even extremely simple.

"I can not." You explain, continuing to try to find a bit of air underneath.

"Why, though? You just need to take it off, simple." He continued, gesturing the simplicity of fleaping the cloth off you.

"I do not have anything underneath, okay?" You say in a wishper, explaining how difficult the whole situation was.

With everything set. Your boyfriend only looked at you in disbelief, shaking his head negatively. Oh well, maybe one day he would understand it.

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑𓂃 Dazai Osamu

"Why do you have to take so much time?" Your boyfriend whines from the other side of the door of the bathroom, impatient by the time that you have to take to clean yourself.

Even if Dazai was a genius, he did not seem to understand the complexity of choosing the right product for you and taking a good time to each of them.

"Dazai, it is not my fault. I have to be careful and pay attention to each product!" You explain, carefully passing your mascara by your dear hair.

"I would prefer if you paid attention to me instead!" He hissed, sitting on the cold floor, his back to the door as he looked through your shared bedroom.

"Paying attention to you will not make my hair or skin perfect." You proclaimed in a firm tone, walking to the door with a towel in your body, finally opening it.

His eyes shone, thinking that you were finally over. Soon frowing seeing your still weat hair with product.

"You can watch if you want. Maybe you can learn a bit." You said with a kind smile, giving up on making your boyfriend wait for you.

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑𓂃 Fyodor Dostoevsky

Today was a very significant day since you were going to an important dinner with Fyodor, your boyfriend. He is a very respected person, which is natural, considering the work he puts so others have full trust in him. You were no diferente however, you trusted him more than anything, and he trusted you too, or so you hoped so.

The night started really well. You had a nice outfit on, a gorgeous makeup, and your dear one was incapable, too. The gathering took place in a very expensive and renowned restaurant, you found all sorts of people there, from rich normal ones to literal presidents. And, of course, being already familiar with how highly and exceptionally Fyodor talks, you put up your best face, prepared to show these people your best, and how you deserved to be there.

Even so, your lover had other plans. Every time you tried to even say something, he would just slide into the conversation, making people hear him instead. Which was utterly weird and ridiculous. Would he not believe in your capacity to handle things?

You pushed him delicately aside from everyone, whispering in a low voice so only he could hear you, an then you asked it.

"What is the problem, Fyodor? Why are you not letting me talk with them?" Your lips moved calmly just like you were telling a secret.

"My dear, you know I fully trust you, but you need to understand. These are not just normal people. They are truly important and significant. If you said something you should not, how would I be?" He responded to you, with his usual attractive and magnetic smile, his voice tone excelling confidence in his words.

"You need to understand." That words got stuck in you like nothing else, making you unable to speak how frustrating his actions were.

"I am quite sure you will understand me. Let me handle things while you speak to the other woman's, I am sure you will have your fun too." He completed his other statement with some more couple of words, those who should not be said.

Understand. Should you really be the one to comprehend it?

"I do not have the words to say how completely stupid you sound right now. Maybe you should learn a bit about how to understand things." You said, trying to keep your tone still calm and relaxed, but still raising it a bit.

"If you do not mind, wich I am sure you do not, I am leaving. There is nothing here for me anyway. I hope you do think a little about what you made and told me. I am not a doll for you to simply control like that, and most of all, I am not like the people you deal with. You should respect me more, Fyodor."

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑𓂃 Ranpo Edogawa

You should know better than deciding to go out at night with a big baby, but in any way, you did it. And now you were going until the end of all this.

The Agency had declared that because of the victory against the other - very powerful - organization, all of you would go out to a bar and bath yourselfs in alcohol, as a well deserved reward.

When you arrived with your boyfriend, almost everyone was already there, although there were still people putting some food on the tables. And as expected, Ranpo went almost running for the food, leaving you behind.

You, in a different way, went to say hello to everyone. You could try to stop Ranpo, but you know better than that. Besides, it was a celebration between people from the Agency, so nobody really cared about that.

As timed passed, more people had arrived, and you, of course, greeted all of them, kindly smilling to your friends. There was drinks, lot alcohol, food and jokes.

By the end of the night, it was really dark, no clouds in the sky, only that obscure blue, and some little to no stars. And some people started to leave. You, being a woman who would have to walk your way home, knew better than let everything get even more late.

You made your way to your boyfriend, who was currently talking with your dear friend Yosano. You got close to him and said that you two should go because it was getting already very late.

He simply looked at you in confusion, stopping the conversation and focusing on only you.

"Why now? It is not that late." He says, still confused, eating some candies calmly.

"It is late! And I have to walk back home!" You exclaimed, lightly irritated whit him. You knew he had all that smartness "only" with the glasses, but you did expect for him to get what you meant.

"And? Walk then." He stated, like it was all very simple and easy. Easy for him, a man.

"Are you good, Ranpo? You need to walk her home. It is dark outside, and a woman walking alone would be a very easy prey." Yosano explained, giving herself the free pass to interrup the conversation between you two and also saving you from a bug talk.

"Oh, sorry." Ranpo said, finally getting your point. Maybe his mind didn't work late at night, but anyway, you two had to go.

The walk was actually really calm, for your luck, since Ranpo isn't the tipe to fight. Although you had come with a hole explanation to him about how dangerous it really is for you to walk alone outside, especially at night. Your next lesson would be about how to use a train. He seems like he needs that.

──────────୨ৎ──────────

⭑𓂃 Chūya Nakahara

Chūya awaited patiently against his motorcycle, a gasp of smoke leaving his lips as he put the cigarette back in his lips. In time to time, he looked at the clock in his wrist, checking the hours again and again, wondering how much longer you would take.

On the other side, you were impatient, deciding mentally if really was a good idea going to that date. I mean, you would love to, it's your boyfriend after all. But the clothes were not helping. How could you choose the perfect one? It was like all the good dresses had gone missing all of a sudden.

You cursed mentally all the people that had stepped in this world, trying a bunch of clothes that you were not even aware of that existed. Anything could not do. It had to be perfect. The perfect cloth for your perfect date with your perfect boyfriend.

Your back was against the bed blankets, looking up at the ceiling, again questioning yourself about everything. Why did it have to be so difficult? Now, you were just cursing yourself. Everything is wrong in this moment. Everyone is nothing but a big mistake.

As if some god from afar had listened to your complaints, you suddenly remembered a dress that Chūya had given you not so long ago. Even if it was not your birthday already, he enjoyed giving you a bunch of stuff. And that included the beautiful and magnificent dress that was seated gracefully in your wardrobe.

Even if it was not the "perfect" dress for your perfect date, it was special. And you knew how much your dear one appreciates that kind of thing. Nothing really needs to be perfect sometimes. Maybe you were just overthinking too much. Or maybe you were not. You can not just go out with anything that you see in front of you. It needs to be good, who imagines the people that you will see in the street.

While everything played in your mind like a movie scene, you had finally finished preparing yourself, your clothes hugging your body perfectly, like it was made just for you. Which you did not doubt, giving how your boyfriend was. Always wanting to make you happy and loved for being exactly who you are.

You hurry up to get to the door of your home, batting an eye to Chuuya awaiting patiently for you with his motorcycle.

"Hi my love, sorry for the delay." You excuse yourself to him, hugging him tightly and kissing his cheek.

"It is okay. You are stunning, really. Like a goddess of beauty." He says in a really sweet tone, which was always reserved only for you. You only laughed at his compliment, brushing it off so he wouldn't notice the light red color on your cheeks.

"You think? I was worried that it was not perfect. You know, the clothes and all. I really wanted to be perfect for you... and our date, of course!" You explain slightly embarrassed, trying not to let yourself even more shy with all this.

"You are impeccable in any way, really." He says, kissing your cheek and offering you one of the helmets.

F. Note :: I hope you liked your reading dear, please, do not forget to take care of yourself.

Lots of love,

Mari. ♡

Tags.ᐟ ::

[athenagc94]

Dear Daddy Long Legs - Chapter 8

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Whoever writes Bizarro dialogue regularly should get an award. Just saying.

First | Prev | Next

Chapter 8

Dear Daddy Long Legs  

That was stupid. Please ignore me.  

First, to address the elephant in the room, yes, I skipped several days of class while I recovered from a concussion. It was the usual Gotham bullshit. You know how it is. I hated every second of my self-isolation, well most of it, at least.  

My professors were gracious and gave me extensions on my work. All except my philosophy professor who is, in fact, a raging asshole with a superiority complex. He told me I should have considered the hazards of living in Gotham and planned for the inevitable accordingly. Seriously. Those were his exact words. I have the email chain to prove it. Luckily, there’s a girl in my class who offered to take notes for me. I should be back up to speed in no time.  

We’re reading the Robert Fitzgerald translation of the Odyssey in my English class. He does a good job, but my friend suggested I give the Emily Wilson translation a try.  

Bruce.   

Bruce.    

Or however you want me to address you.  

It’s phenomenal. The lilting prose, the use of iambic pentameter to create a rhythm. Compared to Fitzgerald, it feels accessible and modern. I tried to bring it up in my class discussion and my professor stopped me. He said Wilson’s translation was fanciful fluff.  

Excuse me? Last I checked, he wasn’t an expert in Ancient Greek. As my friend said, we should study multiple translations to fully understand the intent of the source…  

Jason hid a smile with his palm as he read your letter. You spent the next few pages outlining why your professor’s opinion was objectively wrong. It was fascinating the difference one letter could make, and he half-expected to find an annotated bibliography at the end of your long rant.  

You wrote without inhibition now that you’d scaled the hurdle of the first letter. He could spend hours analyzing your argument and crafting his fictitious counterargument, but his attention snagged on one sentence.  

A friend suggested I give the Emily Wilson translation a try.  

You called him a friend.  

He tried not to read into it. That was the simplest way to describe your relationship with him, even if the term didn’t quite fit. You were never going to tell Bruce Wayne that you took a book recommendation from Red Hood (though it would have been hilarious if you had).  

Bruce Wayne’s heart would have stopped. He, on the other hand, was having a difficult time controlling his.  

Friend, friend, friend…  

Selfishly, he wanted it to be true. If you two were friends, he could have these conversations with you like a normal person. Two letters weren’t nearly enough. He probably had another waiting, but he didn’t have time to check before he left with the Outlaws. Patience had never been one of his strong points, and he was paying for it dearly now.  

“ Jason. ”  

Artemis snatched the pages from his hands. He caught himself on the far arm of her seat, narrowly avoiding falling onto her lap. She held the pages over her head and his seatbelt kept him pinned in place.  

“You are distracted,” she said.   

“I was totally listening.”  

“Then what did I say?”  

He pursed his lips, still holding himself up with one hand and the other outstretched toward her. She arched a brow in a silent challenge, and Jason was too stubborn to back down.  

“Trick question. You didn’t say anything.”  

Bizarro shook his head from his seat across the row. One earbud hung free so he could hear the conversation. “Right move.”  

“Shut up, Biz.”  

Artemis shoved his head away. It was surprisingly gently given he knew she could launch him across the cabin if she wanted to. “If we are to succeed, we need your full attention. I do not take kindly to half-assed effort, especially for something as ornery as…” She scanned the letter, her frown deepening. “What the fuck is this? Why did they call you daddy ?”  

Heat bloomed across his cheeks as he reached for the pages again. “Nothing!”  

Bizarro perked up with a grin. “It looks like nothing.”  

Jason snarled, “ Shut up .”  

“The truth, Jason.”   

She handed the pages back to him. He tucked them away in his coat. “She’s just a —” He refused to feed the delusion and call you a friend. “Let’s call her a pen pal and leave it there.”  

Artemis squinted. “And you are making your pal call you daddy?”  

He choked on air. “She didn’t—”  

Well, technically you did .  

“I swear, it’s not like that.”  

“You fool everyone, my enemy,” Bizarro muttered under his breath. His attention fell back to the movie playing on his phone.  

“Seriously. It’s not. Just let me explain.”  

He spent the next thirty minutes relaying the events that transpired thus far—no details spared. Maybe that was his mistake. Some details, he realized, could have remained unsaid. Namely the fact that he’d spent the better part of an hour on your floor so you wouldn’t see his face as he read to you. There were probably better ways to do it, but he panicked and that was the result.  

When he finished, he settled back and waited for one of them to speak. Bizarro and Artemis shared a long look, their faces confirming what he already knew. He crossed his arms, fingers bunching the leather of his sleeves.  

“Say something. Please.”  

Artemis spoke first, “So, you are stalking this woman?”  

Jason blanched. “W-What? No.”  

“This no sound like a good horror movie,” Bizarro agreed, his brow pitched in veritable confusion, “You no act like Batman.”  

“Bizarro has a point. I would expect his bullshit from Batman or one of your brothers, but not you. It’s a little creepy, keeping tabs on her like you would a charge.”  

“That’s not—I’m not…”  

He struggled to catch his breath. No matter how he spun it, this looked bad. It might seem normal for someone like Bruce or Tim whose love language included constant surveillance and extensive profiling, but Jason didn’t want to be compared to them. “Fuck. Does this make me a creep?”  

“Yes,” Artemis said flatly, “But I hear that spending too much time in Gotham can do that to a person. I have always said you are better off making a life for yourself elsewhere.”  

She had. Several times now. It was one of the many reasons why things didn’t pan out between them. Try as he might, Jason couldn’t quit Gotham, even when it turned its back on him.  

“You no be yourself,” Bizarro insisted, “No one likes real Jay.”  

Jason tugged his helmet on to hide the embarrassed flush that bled into the crown of his head. Yeah, he could live without the who be yourself spiel, especially from the man created to say the exact opposite of what he meant. Even if he knew what Bizarro really meant, it hurt to hear the very words that kept him awake at night spoke aloud.  

“Can we not? Let’s just focus on the job we were hired to do.”  

“Finally,” Artemis sighed, “Praise Ra. If I knew embarrassment was the way to get you focused, I would have done so sooner. You fluster quite easily.”  

He flipped her off.  

She moved on as if he hadn’t reacted at all. “We are close to our destination. I think we are ready now that the distractions have been laid to rest.”  

“I am confused,” Bizarro agreed with a shrug.  

The job was straightforward. Break into several facilities along the west coast, sabotage the product, and get out before they’re caught. As far as missions went, this one was standard. Or at least, it would have been if the client didn’t offer more than twice what they usually charged for a hit like this.  

Jason was wary, but not enough to turn down the job. “Should be simple. I’m not too worried.”  

***  

Famous last words.  

Jason slid across the floor, narrowly avoiding being flattened by flying debris. He gritted his teeth as he readjusted his grip on his guns and sent a well-aimed shot through the head of the sentient bot looming over him. The bullet ricocheted off the glass that guarded the delicate tech that lay beneath.  

Two more shots and that glass shattered. Sparks went flying, and the bot folded in on itself. He shoved himself off the ground. One down, at least a dozen more to go.  

The client failed to mention the tech they were sent to fuck with was sentient, but the payout suddenly made a lot more sense.  

Simple his ass.  

Bots swarmed Bizarro like flies to honey, but he held his own as he tore through them with his bare hands. Artemis cleaved two in half with a clean arc of her axe, scattering bits of steel and wire across the floor of the warehouse.  

“This is annoying,” she remarked with a huff.  

“Look on the bright side. We know what to expect from the other six facilities. Might even have time to grab some lunch before we hit the next one,” he said as he shot another robot between the proverbial eyes, “I hear Cali has great sushi.”  

“Bizarro hates sushi,” he grunted as he tossed twitching remains across the room. It hit the opposite wall with a resounding crack, fracturing the concrete.  

Jason grinned as another bot went down. It was oddly freeing, settling back into his routine with the Outlaws. Here, with them, there were no expectations beyond getting paid and trying not to die. He found solace amid his band of imperfect misfits. It was good to be back.  

He would return to Gotham.  

He always did.  

But for now, he was here, and he planned to make the most of his time with the misfits.  

“Jason, behind you!”  

He whipped around, a thermal beam striking him in the chest. He flew across the room, colliding with a line of shipping containers. He swore on a groan as he peeled himself off the ground. The blast left a smoldering hole in his coat. He shrugged it off and stomped out the cinders. He sifted through the inner pocket to ensure your letter was still intact.  

“Idiot!” Artemis lunged in front of him to deflect another blast aimed at his back. She pinned him with a withering glare. “Focus. Next time I will let them burn you to cinders.”  

He nodded tightly. “Understood.”  

The final robot hit the floor twenty minutes later. Sweat soaked the back of his suit, and he could feel the bruise on his spine, but he’d had far worse. He released the empty magazines and holstered his guns.  

“So, we still want sushi?”  

“Not me!” Bizarro said as he landed beside him. Jason clapped him on the back as the pair headed for the door. “Bizarro hates the Dynamite roll.”  

“You and me both, big guy.”  

“Jason, a word.”  

He flinched as he turned to face Artemis. She hung back by the shipping containers with a grave expression. That wasn’t a good sign.  

Bizarro removed his hand from his shoulder and ducked out before Jason could beg him to intervene. Traitor , he thought as he doubled back to join Artemis. Whatever she had to say, he knew it would be brutal.   

“Look, I know I was distracted today but—”  

“I do not regret breaking up with you.”  

He bit off the rest of his statement, nearly swallowing his tongue in the process. Artemis had never been a romantic. He knew this when they started dating. He hoped time would soften her heart. Time passed and she remained hard and unwavering. It was one of the many things he admired about her.   

When they broke up, it was clean. For her. It hurt Jason, probably more than he cared to admit, but he’d come to accept that they were better off as friends.  

It also helped that they also never talked about it.  

Until now.  

Jason wondered if it was too late to trigger another round of robots so he could avoid this conversation.  

“Thanks.”  

“I am not saying this to be mean,” she insisted as she tossed his jacket to him, “I say this because I know you yearn for a deeper connection, even when you feel you do not deserve it. If Odysseus could return to his Penelope after all the atrocities he committed on his journey and still be worthy of love, so can you.”  

Her words tugged at an old wound he thought he’d gotten over. For the most part, he had. Once upon a time, he would have killed for the kind of romantic allegory from her, but his bond with Artemis was born of shared trauma and bitter rejection. It worked for a while, but it wasn’t the sturdiest foundation to build their relationship.  

He hugged the jacket to his chest and mumbled, “No idea what you’re talking about?”  

Her laugh sounded more like a bark. “I am sorry I could not be the romantic partner you needed, but I think one exists, and they may be a lot closer than you think.”  

His shoulders curled. She assumed he had a crush on you, but that wasn’t the case. He just admired your mind. He liked how passionate you were, and how you didn’t hide those pieces of yourself. He saw himself in you. He wanted to see what those pieces became when given the chance to flourish.  

Sure, he muddied the lines the last time he saw you, but he refused to make the same mistake twice. Avoiding you was the smart thing to do for both of your sakes. No more poor decision wrapped in good intentions.  

“Is that all?”  

A muscle in her jaw tightened. “Yes.”  

Thank God . “Right. Let’s get out of here.”