#and doesn't hurt me in unreasonable ways)

[homunculus-argument]

Imagine you're in a miserable situation with another person - let's say you've both carrying a sack of rocks that's heavy and miserable and you've got a long way to go. You've both got an equally heavy burden to carry, and then this other person keeps pelting potatoes at you. And if you ask them to perhaps stop fucking doing that, they'll just go "but this helps me :( I feel better when I'm allowed to throw potatoes at you, it gives me a release valve for the frustration I feel :( I could not handle this misery if I'm not allowed to constantly throw potatoes at you :( it doesn't even hurt you that much, the relief I feel for getting to pummel you with potatoes is greater than the annoyance you feel from being pummeled with potatoes :( you're unreasonably cruel if you try to make me stop :(" and everyone agrees with them, how dare you expect this person to stop pelting you with potatoes when they're already suffering.

And that's how it feels like to have someone complaining at you because you're both in a situation that sucks.

[therainscene]

I didn't start shipping Byler because I picked up on a few moments of chemistry and decided they'd make a cute couple -- I started off by absolutely refusing to entertain said moments as reciprocally queer until I ran into the ridiculous homophobia on the ST subreddit and decided to review Mike's character arc out of sheer gay spite.

Let me clarify: Spite isn't what made me change my mind about Mike. Spite just made me read a few Byler analyses and rewatch the show with an open mind because I didn't want to be like those pricks who would insult and censor queer fans for... [checks notes]... thinking something gay might happen in a TV show with gay people in it. I truly wasn't expecting a queer interpretation to fit Mike's arc anywhere near as well as the default interpretation -- but by the time I'd finished my rewatch, I was reeling from how much better it fit.

Cause that's the thing: Mike's queerness is pretty obvious once you look for it. The difficulty is in giving yourself permission to look.

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

A question Bylers are often asked is "why would the show spend four seasons building up Milevn just to tear it down at the last minute for some unrealistic woke ship? Mike literally said he loves El!" And yeah, Mike's grand love confession at the end of S4 certainly seems like a triumphant pay-off to all that build-up... but I have a few questions of my own.

Firstly: why establish in no uncertain terms that feeling loved is the key to unlocking El's fullest potential against Vecna--

--only to undermine the power of Mike's longed-for confession by having it only be good enough to delay Vecna instead of defeat him? Yes, it's the penultimate season -- so why did Milevn's pay-off happen here instead of S5 where it could properly shine?

Secondly: why couldn't Milevn fix their relationship by themselves? Even if you believe that El commissioned the painting (she didn't) and that the feelings Will describes are truly hers (they aren't), it was still Will who had to perform this romantic gesture on her behalf, and it broke his heart to do so. Why hand this important work off to a third party? Why weave queer tragedy into the build-up towards a heterosexual pay-off that's supposed to feel triumphantly romantic?

Speaking of which: why undermine the intimacy of this scene by having Will hover behind Mike's shoulder the whole time? Couldn't they have asked Noah to take a few steps to the left for the sake of a better shot? Couldn't they have waited until after Milevn's big romantic moment to remind us for the millionth fucking time how sad Will is about it?

In my opinion, this scene and its four seasons of build-up make much more sense if you read them as three entwined character arcs about the trials of growing up in a suffocatingly heteronormative era: the gay kid who doesn't think he's entitled to a happy ending; the abused girl who thinks shallow romance with the first boy who's nice to her will make her feel normal; and the confused hero who hasn't figured out the solution yet.

For all the insistence that this show has to stick to "realistic" depictions of 80s queerness... it's hardly a realistic depiction of 80s straightness for Mike to score an awesome magical girlfriend, either. That's just nerdy wish-fulfillment, and common only as a trope in fiction.

So it's not unreasonable to suppose that Mike's true role in the Subverting 80s Tropes Show might be to represent the actually very realistic 80s experience of getting swept up in compulsory heterosexuality.

Think about it: Will's vulnerability to the horrors functions as a metaphor for being visibly gay in a world that despises gay people--

--whereas Mike's girlfriend quite literally has the power to protect him from monsters and homophobic bullies alike.

This doesn't mean Mike is callously using El, though. He learned the hard way in S1 that treating an innocent girl like a means to an end would only end up destroying her, and the guilt and fear of hurting her again has been weighing heavy on him ever since.

Comphet isn't about taking advantage of other people's feelings so you can pretend to be straight -- it's about deluding yourself into believing you're straight because queerness isn't an option you're allowed to consider.

Mike genuinely does love El and he genuinely does want to be an important part of her life -- so surely that means he wants to be her boyfriend, right? Twelve is perhaps a little young to know that yet... but surely there's gotta be something here that sets his feelings apart from how a friend or brother would feel?

Surely the reason he later finds himself struggling to say to her face that he loves her is because he's just an immature loser who needs to try harder to grow up and be the man this girl he adores deserves to have...?

...and certainly not because the guilt and fear of losing her just keeps piling up as the romantic instincts he thinks he's been waiting to grow into turn out to be developing at exactly the pace they're supposed to -- in the wrong direction.

That would be ridiculous. Will's his best friend. Yes, he loves him and can't bear to be without him, but that doesn't mean anything. Why can't a guy display a little unhinged devotion to his special friend without it having to mean something romantic?

Why can't he, indeed.

At his core, Mike is someone who desperately wants to be as special as the straight heroes in the nerdy media he loves. But there isn't anything inherently heroic about being some lame middle-class white nerd who's bad with girls, so he believes that the best he can do is to be a dutiful sidekick who would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat for people he perceives as more special than himself.

For all the "build-up" Mike's romance with El has enjoyed across four seasons, it's done absolutely nothing to help him grow as a character and overcome this self-worth problem.

So is it really any surprise that even after realizing El would be fine and still want to be friends with him if he told her the truth, and even after realizing just how good Will is at understanding his insecurities and reassuring him of his inherent worth--

--Mike would still sacrifice his chance at happiness for the sake of the greater good?

El was literally dying in his arms. How could queer desire possibly be as important as this girl who needed him to be a man and do his damn job so she could do hers?

I'm interpreting Mike as gay here, but I think it's important to note that this principle applies even if he's bi or straight -- Mike can be attracted to girls and still be forcing himself to stay in a relationship with a girl he's not a good romantic match for because that's just what he thinks he's supposed to do.

His sister had a similar problem: Nancy was legitimately attracted to Steve, but her infatuation with him was more about doing what cool teen girls are supposed do than about authentic connection. And because this is a horror story as much a coming-of-age story, Wheeler's conformity had horrendous consequences -- her critical-of-comphet bestie was killed by the horrors.

Which sounds familiar, doesn't it?

(Sure, Max technically didn't die -- but she still died enough for Vecna's plan to come to fruition. Which just brings us back to my first question: why couldn't the Power of Heterosexual Love prevent this? In the same season that said "forced conforming is what's killing the kids", no less?)

Will describes Vecna as an inevitability that won't stop until he's taken everyone -- which in my opinion is the same defeatist attitude demanded by comphet.

It's not that Mr. Refuses-To-Participate-In-Society's-Silly-Play symbolizes comphet itself, per se; rather, he represents the despair of feeling like you can't truly escape it. But either way, this means that the solution to defeating Vecna is the same solution to defeating comphet:

Giving yourself permission to look and see that your true self is far more valuable than whatever you think you're supposed to be.

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism Boys - Meeting Your Parents

G/N. Headcanons on what your parents would think. Goo, Jake, Gun, Samuel, Ryuhei. Masterlists

Both are absolutely two sides of the same coin. Either way, your parents will be so charmed by Goo or Jake that they wish they were the ones dating him instead.

Goo is hilarious. In a mean bitchy way, that even though he is laughing at other people rather than with - he's laughing with your parents at other people so this slips pass their radar.

They are caught up with his quips and sharp tongue and honeyed words that they happily go along with this ride, trading numerous inside jokes by the end of the meeting, giggling together like a bunch of school children.

It helps that he's also dressed head to toe in hard to miss designer labels, and brings lavish gifts for them too. No, their affection and approval can't be bought but well, it doesn't hurt to try.

Jake is the son your parents wish they had, insult to their actual sons be damned. Or the person they wish they had met if they were twenty years younger, sexuality be damned.

And yes, Jake would pull out the cheesy lines like (gesturing to your mother) "Y/N, you didn't tell me you had a sister!" and dad jokes to your own dad. He would be so insufferably charming about it that it would inevitably work and win them over in no time at all.

Unlike Goo, so what if Jake's finances are tight right now? And his prospects are a little questionable? He clearly loves you and is a Good Guy. You two are young, he can work that out in due course.

There's a powerful aura emitting from Gun and your parents don't know what to make of it. Is it ok that you're seemingly with this dangerous man? With the unusual eyes and scar between his eyes?

This would have put their backs up more but Gun, to your surprise, is capable of showing exceptional manners. He is super respectful in their presence. Deep bows, good etiquette, and formal honorifics. They can't help but be reassured that if he is this respectful of them, then surely he will be of you.

Gun's demeanour is generally stiff and serious. He's quiet and doesn't talk much, though they don't miss the way he softens when he looks at you. Nor his patience when you revert back to being a sulky child when you're in your parent's presence too long.

They approve, mostly. But will always be a little uneasy around Gun.

At first glance, or first meeting, Samuel is clearly a guy that thinks a lot about himself. Unfortunately it shows to your parents too.

To his credit, his ego and confidence is inflated but the way he treats you is surprisingly tender. And despite the pedestal he sometimes likes to put himself on, he puts you on an even higher pedestal. Which can be both positive and negative. To your parents though, it's good that he obviously treats you well.

Sammy does turn on the charm a little, walking the thin line between flattering and smarmy - a bit like how he is with Eugene. Most of all, your parents are impressed with his prospects (something Jake, unfortunately, lacks).

Excellent career prospects, property, assets, finance. Even if he is a bit up his own ass, at least he can look after you.

Ryuhei has never ever met a partner's parent, and it shows with how tense he is. A complete surprise for you to see your happy-go-lucky puppy so anxious.

He relaxes each time you give him a small smile or squeeze his hand in a comforting gesture.

Your parents, to be honest, don't think much of him. Not to say they think he's bad for you, they just don't form much of an opinion of him during the first meeting.

The second meeting, however: 'Poor guy,' your parents think. He is wrapped around your finger and he's too head over heels to even kick up a fuss whenever you're being unreasonable or bratty.

He tries to charm them, which is a bit hit and miss but it's so so obvious how much he adores you and hangs on to your every word that even they become a bit worried about his well being and you taking advantage of him.

Not that you would... maybe.

[marisolls]

self-destruction and self-preservation are not the antithesis of each other, come meet me halfway.

haikyuu ﹙ tsukishima kei x reader ﹚

011125. the fear that comes with loving someone will consume him, you won’t allow that, which makes things even harder.

content warnings. part 1 of 2. angst. emotional repression. heavy miscommunication. fear of abandonment. breakdown. setting isn’t defined, just assume they’re 19 or older.

notes. art cred by azeensart on x. i might not include this in my masterlist for how...heavy these themes are. holy shit. i bawled while writing this (period cramps is getting to me)

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart will either make or break the relationship you both have. him not being able to be open and vulnerable with you not because he thinks its weak, but because he literally cannot overcome that fear.

he knows dating you requires this neck-deep honesty, knows you'd be the first to genuinely reach him in a place of understanding, and would be there for him no matter the circumstances, would have your eyes look at the deepest parts of him and still love just the kei in him. the only ever one.

but there's this unreasonable pressure and obligation he's set on himself to be...more. more than what he is. more than just kei. so he studies hard, plays volleyball and make you proud, gives you his undivided attention, tries to be more than the fear unkowingly playing a factor in what he's trying to do. to make you think he doesn't have one in the first place.

he doesn't want you to think it keeps him up at night, constantly wondering if he'll ever be enough for you. he's so deprived of reassurance but so repulsed and uncomfortable to ask or talk about it, much less show it to you. he's got his own shit going on, and he thinks he operates best in isolation. the last thing he would want from you is for you to worry about him.

no, don't look at him like that. he's too weak under those soft gazes of yours, you deserve more than the kei he is; the unsure and scared and feels too deeply, but too little to allow expressing himself. you deserve more not because you demand from him, but because your love is all-encompassing and unflinching. you give so effortlessly without a shadow of doubt.

you are love. you are everything he’s not.

he tells himself he’s doing this—telling you about his day on the phone but also leaving the parts that matter; like the struggles or how he thinks about you all throughout and just want to admit himself to you the way you do with him. to tell you he’s not normal and constantly yearns for you and feel a little jealous when you talk about other people with him. to tell you he loves you but he kind of hates himself, that he can’t help but settle for a quiet corner of solitude even though the best thing about his day will always be when you invite him to your place and cuddle. he eradicates what his tongue is burning with fervor, he’s doing this—

not to deceive you, but to convince himself he’s worthy of standing beside you. to shield you of what haunts him, what crawls into his skin that make him want to tear his flesh, like parting a pomegranate with sharp nails and deliberately making a mess, yielding to the bite.

he tells himself that he doesn’t want to hurt you. all his wanting, his yearning, can quell itself. but when he does this, it’s all the more likely of being susceptible to vulnerability. all the more hurtful, to both you and him.

and then he fucked up so bad to the point he’s shaking and white-knuckling and nearly in tears—or rather bursting. he really did turn into a mess, losing himself to the fear that you’d leave him. that you are leaving him.

technically it’s his fault. it was your 9th date, or after that. he stayed a bit in your studio apartment by habit. you always make warm dinners. though he was quiet the entire night and refused to talk when you asked. but again, you’re always trying to unravel him, gently wriggling yourself inside, tiptoe your way into holding him. always, always letting him know you’re there. that you’re somewhere there in him, trying to feel him in the best way possible.

you held his hand and casually massaged his fingers, tracing the lines of his palm and not uttering a word but an easy smile curls around your lips and he’s not—he’s not going to ruin this moment. there’s an aching between his ribs, the intimacy of it all twists his insides in an unpleasant way and he feels so ashamed that he only gives himself half-hearted to you. that your patience is all but a fleeting gift, that you’ll eventually lose this touch once you grow sick of him. sick of his selfishness and insecurities.

you asked after a while, “does this hurt?” referring to his recently bandaged middle and ring finger. you looked at him—shit, he finds himself noticing that generally, he can’t even meet your gaze without feeling like he’ll cry.

you just look so beautiful, he’ll pray to a god for you to have all the good things in the world, he wish he could right now, but not like this—when he’s thinking of how to build more distance, more walls; to put him at his twisted concept of being at ease that this is good, this is what you need.

(he doesn’t understand the horrors you’ve faced to have achieved this absolute grace. the way that you’ve learned how to part a pomegranate carefully, still a tad messy but so much better than the last. he doesn’t understand the extent of how you love.)

“what…?” and he doesn’t understand why you sounded genuinely appalled.

he rephrases, “i just don’t want you to get too attached.”

“no.” you dropped your hand, setting a few feet away from him. the expression you’re making unsettles him, looking so hurt and confused, “you said- you said you don’t want me to depend my happiness on you. what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i said what i said,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at you.

“no, you didn’t. that’s just your cowardly way of avoiding this conversation,” you snap. “why do you always do this? why can’t you just talk to me?”

his gaze flickers toward you, but he doesn’t respond. his silence feels heavier than any words could have been, a chasm opening between you. (and a pomegranate about to spill itself into chaos)

“do you think i’m that fragile?” you ask, voice trembling, teetering between anger and heartbreak. “that i’m just going to crumble if you let me in?”

“it’s not that,” he says, his tone clipped, defensive. “you just wouldn’t get it.”

“oh, here we go,” you scoff, you flail your arms and roll your eyes. “the classic. ‘you wouldn’t get it.’ you act like you’re the only one who’s ever felt scared or unsure or—”

“shut up,” he snaps, voice low but sharp.

it makes you flinch momentarily, but you sink yourself in, sharper than nails, more like teeth.

“no. i won’t. because you’re not being fair to me, kei. do you even realize what you’re saying right now? you’re acting like—like this is my fault. like i’m asking for too much just by loving you!”

“that’s not what i’m saying!” he shouts, his voice cracking.

“then what are you saying?” you yell back, tears starting to sting your eyes. “because all i hear is you trying to push me away. again.”

“i’m protecting you!” he bursts out, his voice raw, almost desperate. “don’t you get that? i’m doing this for you!”

“bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. “you’re doing this for yourself, kei. because you’re too scared to be honest with me. because you think it’s easier to shut me out than to let me see you—really see you.”

he could cry any second, but it’s the knee-jerk reaction that always sets in, the things that never helped him but had come to terms with. and he shouldn’t really be like this, but he doesn’t know how to be anything other than what he is.

he sucks a breath, expression hardening, a wave of something defensive and bitter crossing his face. “maybe you shouldn’t depend on me so much, then,” he says coldly, his words cutting and surpassing nails or teeth. it’s the knife.

your shoulders sag, forgetting to breathe in the worst way possible. “wow,” you whisper, voice trembling. “you really think so little of me, don’t you? you think i can’t handle you, or us, or whatever this is. fine then, if that’s how you feel, then maybe i should stop trying.”

(you instantly regret it. because a part of you remains so selfishly unselfish. you want to bleed and heal for him, to make yourself bare because you know you have nothing in your hands. you’ve got nothing but yourself to give. and this is how you love, and it pains you so fucking much that he’s completely rejecting the only thing you have.)

“…i think you should leave.”

his head jerks slightly, caught off guard. “huh?”

“what do you mean huh?” you tremble against the weight of your words, “go. i need to be alone.”

he stares at you, his mouth opening as if to argue, but nothing comes out. his fingers twitch at his sides, unsure of what to do. “you’re serious,” he says finally, his tone flat but laced with disbelief.

“yeah, kei, i’m serious,” you snap, your eyes glistening. “since you clearly don’t want to talk, and you think pushing me away is somehow doing me a favor, then fine. go. you don’t have to ‘protect’ me anymore.”

his brows knit together, and for a moment, his mask falters. “that’s not what i—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “don’t try to explain now. i can’t—” you take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “i can’t keep fighting to understand you when you won’t even…fight for me. just how cruel of you to ask me not to depend my happiness on you, when you know you’re all i ever want.”

it’s your voice cracking that sets his jaw unbearably taut, his eyes darting to the floor. he wants to say something, but he feels so fucking useless the words could choke itself.

“you think you’re protecting me,” you continue, your voice softer now, but no less painful. “but all you’re doing is making me feel like i’m not enough for you. like i’m some burden you have to keep at arm’s length.”

“that’s not…”

“then what is it, kei?” you ask, desperate, your eyes searching his. “what are you so afraid of? me? us?”

he looks away, his shoulders tense, his hands curling into fists.

“screw it,” you mutter, turning your back. “just go. please.”

the word please is what makes his heart lurch. it’s not angry or demanding. it’s pleading, broken. and it terrifies him.

“wait,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.

you don’t turn around.

“don’t do this,” he says, more firmly now, but there’s a tremor in his voice. “don’t… don’t ask me to leave.”

“why not?” you ask bitterly, “you’ve been keeping me at a distance this whole time anyway. what’s the difference?”

you don’t look back when he says, after another long pause, “…if that’s what you want.”

your heart sinks as you finally watch him turn toward the door. he hesitates, his hand resting on the doorknob, he can’t stop the shaking of it and his fingers feel so cold and the warmth he’s craving now is just pathetic. he waits for you. for you to stop him. for you to reach him like you never fail to do.

but you don’t.

and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, your ears start ringing and your head has fucked you enough that you want to scream. it feels too painful to stuff it in. you kneel to the floor with your head in your hands, the weight of the argument crashing down on you.

outside, kei leans against the wall, his chest heaving as he stares blankly ahead, the overwhelming urge to go back and fix everything warring with the fear that it’s already too late.

are you going to leave him?

are you going to leave him?

you’re going to leave him.

he can’t figure out how to unfuck all the mess. and he shivers with so much dread, he doesn’t realize he’s weeping under a streetlamp and barely holding himself. he doesn’t even know how to cry properly, but it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he’s convinced—he’s fucking trying to already swallow the inevitability of you and him falling apart. he deserves this.

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart can ultimately break yourselves apart. and it does. it’s sort of a heart disease not even death can console the pain.

taglist. @leafington @angeleilee @yoru-exe here you go, angst is good for the soul ,,,,

SOLVISUN 2025. all rights reserved, do not repost/alter.

[prof-peach]

Afternoon Professor. I don't suppose you know whether its possible for a bulbasaur's bulb to get - I don't know, too fat or something?

My buddy's been acting like his bulb is hurting his back recently. The local pokemon center won't look at it because they say he's too young to have any problems, which really doesn't even tell me what they think he's too young to have.

Mm. Smaller pokemon centres are occasionally too dismissive.

Yes, in short, a bulbasaurs bulb can become too much for it, can be a genetic trait, can be an environmental factor, but also things like joint issues and spinal disfigurations can also come into play.

A heavy bulb (if it is that) can be fixed with what is basically a dividing process, which will cut away the unreasonable weight and leave a healthy core to heal. Theres also the issue of just how strong your pokemon physically is, bulbasaur have incredibly resilient bodies, that it is struggling under its own bulb is making me wonder if its a more serious underlying issue such as a defect that would effect the spine... I'd have to get a better look if im honest, seeing the colouration of its skin, the bottom of its feet, inside the mouth, what its heart is doing, exploring kidney functions, poison glands, the build up of various toxins in this specias can also yield negative effects on their growth if theres any unchecked imbalance.

There is also a potential that your partner has been exposed to some very potent weed killers, which while distressing, and upsetting, can happen. The solution people use midlessly to destroy plants can effect pokemon too. some of these herbicides sometimes disrupting auxin, which is a type of growth hormone, and its production. This can end up being wildly varying in terms of results when this happens to grass based pokemon. Their genetics are a half way point between a creature and a plant. This can result in excessive growth in one area, and total lack of in others.

Bring up my name to your local when you go back, say the second opinion is a recomendation to explore further and if they need proof, call the Island labs, ill talk to them. If they still refuse to chase this up, bring or send your partner to us at Dotaku. We can and will assess further.

[karaeilish]

𝜗𝜚 ࣪ ˖ no time to die b. eilish. . .

tw: slight toxicity, r has heart problems, trust issues, hospital, needles, billie being a bitch

angst

୨ৎ wc: 1,8k

minutes turned into hours, long and drawn out, the hand of the clock on the wall became your punishment as you lay curled up in a hospital bed. your mind drew pictures of her on the empty wall. you waited for her. waited like a loyal little puppy.

maybe that's why she called you pathetic?

billie said that. your billie.

she wasn't drunk, she wasn't high, she was just really tired. you knew it when you tried to somehow convince her to spend some time with you, like it used to be, like it always was. to watch a movie, to cook something together, or just to be in her arms, to feel the warmth of her body, to feel her skin on yours, her lips on yours, her breath baring your soul. is it really that much when you just miss her? you miss your girlfriend like crazy.

"fuck, can you just not be so clingy for one night?" the words were like a hard, painful slap, causing your eyes to widen in shock. your pupils were darting around. she said it so abruptly, so harshly, that your insides clenched painfully at the cold tone of her voice. it was like a stranger standing in front of you. "like a fucking child!"

your body slowly, fearfully and hesitantly turns to face her, tear-filled eyes fixed on her face. she looked so exhausted, tired and unreasonably angry at you, her hands clenched into fists at the sides of her body. it only hurt you more. "what..?" your voice was so quiet and desperate, giving away every emotion your body was hiding, that it hurt you.

"you heard what i said," she sighs heavily, running her hands through her dirty hair that cascaded over her shoulders. you can see the fight in her eyes; keep quiet, just shut her damn mouth and walk away before her anger breaks your fragile heart that you gave to her without a second thought. let the steam cool in her blood and come back to hug you or tell you everything, bring her disappointment down on you, watching as your brows furrow slightly, trying to hide the trembling in your body. even if it will be the end of you.

she chose the second. "no, but seriously—"

"billie" you raise a trembling hand in the air and cut her off, finally daring to look into her blue eyes. eyes that always looked at you with love and adoration. eyes whose beauty you drowned in. and now what? now these are someone else's, angry, gray eyes. "please, don't say something you'll regret in the morning"

in your heart there is still a grain of hope that maybe she will listen to you. maybe she'll just go into the bedroom, leaving this gap between you until tomorrow morning, or maybe she'll even hug you and tell you that she's sorry. that she's just having a hard time dealing with everything alone. that she needs you by her side.

but no.

"don't shut me up, you—" a heavy sigh tears through your lungs, creating a burning sensation in your chest. you purse your lips, knowing that what she says next will probably break your heart.

"you're too much, okay? you're always so… needy. i'm just tired of you." she frowns, as if she's trying to find the harshest words in her head to hurt you even more, to squeeze your throat harder, cutting off your oxygen supply. you stand there silently, almost unnoticed, looking down at the floor and meekly waiting. you want her to break your heart.

she's silent for another minute, two, they stretch out into eternity and your legs give way. you take a few steps towards the couch, breathing heavily and rubbing your chest. she must have forgotten about your heart problems when she said that. or maybe she just doesn't care.

"you can't even answer me! do you understand what your problem is?" she loses her temper, knows she'll regret it, but she does it, taking a few big, loud steps towards you and grabbing your shoulder to lift you off the couch and turn you towards her. you bite the inside of your cheek, wanting to close your eyes and ears.

"you're just unbearable with your submissiveness, all you do is try to please me!" the words cut to the quick, ripping your heart out of your chest and crushing it with a dirty sole. you were genuinely surprised that she really thought that. she doesn't want to see you around anymore? is your heart too big and loving for her? "but i love you..."

the words sound trembling. pathetic.

for a second you thought she smirked.

“you don’t love me, you’re obsessed. with this relationship, with me… no wonder your ex—” billie stops herself abruptly, realizing that last sentence was too much. but she didn’t have to finish it for you to understand what she wanted to say.

she knew full well about your trust issues from your past relationships. she’d been trying to help you to tell her about it for years, to trust her with your heart and soul, to be able to walk up to her at any moment and just hug her without feeling guilty about it. and she ruined that in just a few minutes.

“wow, so you’ll punch me in the face too if i hug you?” your voice trembles treacherously, a mix of pain and anger on your face, the first time in this entire conversation that you’re able to stand up for yourself. at least a little. your hands are clutching the edges of your shirt. your eyes are wet. your cheeks are burning with anger and shame.

billie furrows her brows, thinking about her answer for a few more seconds. deep down she knew she was making a huge mistake, but her tiredness and anger had made her drunk, clouding her mind and emotions. she had forced herself to forget that she was the only one you could come to at any moment in your life. “one more word and you’ll be out of this house.”

something between a painful groan and a sigh escapes your lips as something inside you snaps and you clutch your heart, pulling yourself out of her grip to sit on the couch. the painful realization hits your head, making you sob in pain. breathing was getting harder, but you were trying to stay sane.

she hesitated for a few seconds, as if she couldn’t tell if you were really feeling bad or if you were just faking it to make her soften. now you were sure that she would put aside her pride, just come up to you and hug you tightly until your heart calmed down. because she was the only one who could help you avoid an attack. because she knew how much you were afraid of hospitals. she knew it better than anyone.

your billie would’ve believed you no matter what.

but it wasn’t your billie.

“that’s pathetic. you.. you..” she shakes her head, walking up to the second floor on wobbly legs. there are tears in her eyes that you can’t see. your heart skips a few more painful beats. “don’t go back to bed tonight, damn it.” she spits out the words, disappearing into the darkness of your house.

a few seconds pass in silence before you process all the words she said, letting the tears flow freely down your cheeks. a few breaths choked in your throat as you felt a sharp, terrifying pain spreading through your chest. “fuck, fuck..”

dread enveloped your thoughts as you grabbed your phone off the coffee table, hands shaking as you searched for the contact of anyone who was there. you stared at maggie’s contact for a few more seconds before throwing the phone to the side with a sob, covering your face with your hands. she probably wanted to rest for the evening, not take you to the hospital like the burden you considered yourself to be.

you were really starting to think that you were too much for her family, for billie. just because they taught you that you could always turn to them for help. they were always there. billie promised to always be there.

you just wanted to close your eyes and wait for your heart to stop forever, if it couldn’t beat for billie. you could physically feel the pain from every word she said, repeating in your head. each time like a new knife piercing your weak heart. at the moment you want to give up, but only one thought runs through your head.

it's not time to die.

your hand reaches for the phone again.

it was a thick forest fog seeping into your head until you opened your eyes the next time, immediately wincing in fear and disgust when you saw the catheter delivering medicine through your veins. it was a childish but desperate fear of needles.

"darling, you awake.." maggie's soft voice brings you back to reality as she sits on the edge of the bed, gently taking your hand. her touch is soothing until you remember the events of last night. her eyes are filled with worry.

you probably wouldn't even notice finneas was there if he hadn't leaned over you, placing his hand on his mother's shoulder. "hey kid, how are you feeling?" his voice was filled with genuine concern and brotherly love as he looked into your eyes.

you don't really even remember how they brought you here, but right now there's only one nagging thought running through your head. is billie here? you swallow hard, looking up at them again.

"where's billie? i need to see her.." your mouth is dry, your eyes are watering as you notice their sympathetic gazes. maggie's hand tightens around your fingers in a supportive gesture, causing the tears in your eyes to fall down your cheeks, leaving a wet trail behind them.

"i'm sorry, baby.. she's-" you shake your head, trying to shake off all her attempts to somehow justify billie. you don't need this. you need to know if your girlfriend came to the hospital when you had a heart attack.

"she came to me?" you look at maggie desperately, hoping that this was all a stupid joke and billie will now walk into the room, hugging you tightly and telling you how much she loves you. that she's sorry. and you will forgive her, because you have never loved anyone in your life as much as you love her. with all your heart, soul, thoughts. it was not just a crush, it was a desire to be her wife, to have her children and to hold her hand until her last breath.

"no, she's not here…"

a/n — okay im sorry 😭

[clarkeybabey]

❝ i wouldn't give these nobodies no sympathy ❞

# summary; somethings do really get under his skin

# playlist; luther - kendrick lamar (ft. sza)

# word count; 748

# note; ive seen some distasteful comments on our bf lately. leave my man alone, he's the chillest guy. #parasocial. lazy ending im so sorry

Arthur absolutely adores his job, who wouldn't just want to hang out with their mates all day or film themselves reacting to Reddit posts to pay their bills? None of this was on his life bingo card, but he didn't think he'd change a single thing about his current situation. That was until he started collaborating with larger YouTubers.

Their fans always found a way to make him out to be the butt of the joke 24/7. He's been on social media for a while now, and of course, he understood that being unreasonably disliked came with his job, he just wished that he could express his feelings without being seen as 'soft'. It's almost as if the more he tries to ignore it all, the more comments emerge.

Some of his friends who recently began to gain traction were nearly completely dodging the brutal comments and he couldn't figure out why. Not that he wants them to experience it, because it's awful, he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy, but what do they have that he doesn't?

When you return from grocery shopping, he's sat in his desk chair tapping a socked foot. You take immediate notice of the furrow in his brow he seems to be scrolling through something, "You okay, baby?" Arthur startles a bit, seemingly having not realized your presence, he hums wordlessly, not bothering to look up at you.

His lack of acknowledgment makes you frown slightly. You let your purse slide off your shoulder, landing with a thunk in a pile at the end of his desk. You place a hand on his knee, bringing his anxiety-riddled movements to a halt. Finally, he looks up at you just in time for you to speak again, "Tell me."

His reply comes out sounding almost offended, "Tell you what?" He's playing stupid, but it's not going to work, not even he's been convinced by his words. You've been to him before he even knew you were home.

Your head tilts to the side and you fold your arms over your chest and without another sound from you, he knows he lost, "Just people on the internet, that's all." He's bitter and hurt, which is very evident as he continues, "Don't think they realize I'm human too."

A glance at the glowing screen in his hands tells you what he's been doing since you left a half hour ago. You take the phone from him, setting it on top of his mousepad, taking a second to situate yourself in his lap, "Listen, I know you really wanna know how people feel about you." You pause momentarily to place a chaste kiss on either cheek, "We've talked about how bad it is for you."

"It's so difficult to pretend I don't care," He begins, stopping when he feels like his throat's going to close, uncontrollable tears dot his waterline, breaking your heart. "I wish I could understand more, but I just don't know what its like, 'm not sure if I ever will be."

Your index finger finds his stubbled jaw, stroking it as you do your best to console him, if only you could take everything he's feeling and place it onto yourself even if only for a day, he deserves a break. "Those people are nobodies, they're just jealous." He leans into your touch, "You'd think I'd be used to it all by now," he mumbles against your palm, pressing a kiss to it.

Shaking your head involuntarily as he pours out all of his thoughts, but when he says that it pisses you off, "Shouldn't have to be used to it, the internet's a joke. You're a wonderful, intelligent person with opinions and feelings that are allowed to be expressed," words tumble from your lips so fast you can't control them he just sits there, a hand on your side drawing shapes on the skin where your top had ridden up, taking in all you say.

"I'm a chronic people pleaser, but I think you have me beat," you say wagging your brows, playing with his hair, finally he cracks a smile. A sigh of relief escapes you at that, "Think we should lower your screen time."

"Yes, mum," he salutes you, and a loud laugh bubbles up through him making you giggle, he pokes your tummy, "or maybe we can just run away together," he suggests kissing the upturned corner of your mouth.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

[baronessvonglitter]

Compliance

Tim Rockford x f!reader | WC: 2K

Summary: You get cuffed and stuffed by Detective Rockford

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Explicit for smut. TW for Non-Con/Dub-Con and abuse of power. Reader is handcuffed. Oral (f receiving). Fingering. Implication of adultery. Unprotected piv. Exhibitionism/voyeurism. Improper use of a two-way mirror. Spanking. Come eating. If any of this is not what you like to read I advise you to move on to another fic.

A/n: this has been knocking around in my mind for awhile and I needed to get it out. We all know Tim is a grumpy bastard but let's make him mean... also, I read The Interrogation by @charethcutestory02 while writing this and immediately thought, hell yeah.. but add our boy Tim.. (go read it, it's amazing)

dividers by @saradika-graphics 👑

TIM ROCKFORD MASTERLIST | FULL MASTERLIST

The flourescent lights flicker overhead in the tiny questioning room. You know it's planned that way. The PD can afford to fix their bulbs, but this is how they get people to talk. Those sensitive to light will start to get migraines or feel nauseous. And then they say whatever words will earn them their freedom. Anything to get away from the flickering light.

You're stronger than most. You've been quiet so far, keeping mum about your boyfriend's illegal activities. When they busted down your door at two in the morning. When they cuffed you and read you your rights. When they brought you into a room with a surly-looking detective who looks like he's running off exactly two and a half hours of sleep and is on his third cup of black coffee and his younger, softer-looking partner. The "good cop/bad cop" routine ensues. Detective Rockford is the bad cop. You have a feeling he doesn't ever play anything else. All this time you've not said a word. And now he's is getting antsy.

He takes his partner to the side and they whisper something, the younger detective's eyes on you with a look of what you imagine is sympathy. He's the one who brought you the can of Sprite that's now collecting condensation on the table in front of you, barely sipped. The good cop leaves, his eyes troubled.

This isn't going to bode well for you.

"Sweetheart," Rockford uses the term like a pejorative. "I don't get why you're so insistent on bending over for this guy." He's leaning in behind you, and you jolt when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Still staying silent, huh? Pleading the fifth? That's okay. That's your right.." He looks at the one-way mirror and nods. "I can make you talk, sweetie," he whispers from behind you, his breath warm on your ear.

You see him in the two-way mirror, his broad physique looking like it could dwarf you. He looks like he could swallow you whole, like he would want to. His hands rest on your shoulders, big meaty paws, with digits so thick they make you think obscene thoughts without wanting to. His fingers press into your shoulders. There's a band of gold on the left ring finger. It could be a good sign. He wouldn't hurt you or coerce you in any unreasonable fashion if he's married..

..right?

"I'll tell you what I like to do to insubordinate witnesses," he all but growls in your ear. "Get up."

"I want a lawyer-"

He grabs you roughly, pulling you up by your underarms, kicking the chair away as he leans you over the table.

"Fuck your lawyer. Hands behind your back."

Without waiting for your compliance he shoves you down bent over on the table and grabs hold of your wrists, pinning them behind your back.

"What the fuck?? Let go of me!!"

He's kicking your legs apart and you're desperate to flail, but he's too strong. Suddenly you feel the cold snap of metal on your wrists, pinching into your skin.

"You gonna be good now?" Rockford taunts.

You scream for help, yelling at whoever is behind the two-way mirror. There are always other cops, even cops' bosses, watching on the other side, right? That's what they show on TV.

"No sense in screaming, you'll only get them more excited," Rockford drawls in your ear. "Now be good and be compliant and I'll think about uncuffing you."

He grabs your ass in both hands, cupping your cheeks, and you curse youself for putting on shorts when you were dragged in for questioning. Rockford's palming your soft skin, lifting your ass before he shoves the material down to your knees and moving your leg to slide them off completely. You're tempted to kick him, but in your incapacitated state you doubt you could get the better of him anyway.

You can't stifle a surprised moan as Rockford's nose presses between your cheeks, nudging against your clothed pussy. He inhales deeply, a growling rumble in his chest, and you feel the teasing prod of his tongue against your cunt. Your brain is taking too long to catch up, becacuse your body is already arching back for more.

Sensing your submission, he wiggles his tongue, eliciting a half-moan half-sigh from you, a shudder leaving your body.

"Gonna make you soft," he mumbles behind you, "good.. and compliant."

He pulls your panties down, and a string of your mucus stretches between your cunt and the material. Rockford swipes at it with his finger, breaking it and rubbing the sliminess between thumb and forefinger. "Ovulating, huh? Is that why you smell so damn good?"

There's no chance for you to answer because then his broad tongue swipes across your cunt from clit to ass. Your eyes close and mouth opens, hands flexing in their metal shackles. Your lungs draw in a breath and it leaves you in a whimper. Rockford's tongue continues its trail, lapping up your ooze and smacking his lips.

"Gonna tell me now? Who supplied the drugs to your little boyfriend? We know he's not bright enough to manufacture them himself."

"What?" The question breaks your concentration, Rockford's tongue momentarily paused in its ministrations.

"You heard me. Now keep your fucking head down."

It's a miniscule moment in which you actually obey with willingness, your mind set only on the warm pressure of his tongue.

"Tell me who his dealer is." Rockford's hands are grabbing your cheeks, rolling them around in his huge palms, like he's intent on leaving bruises on your ass.

A quick spank! heaves you forward, the flimsy table scooting up with a squeak. "I.. I don't know!"

"Liar," he growls, giving another harsh slap to your ass. "But I think you do know. Do I have to jog your memory?"

You brace yourself for another stinging slap but are met with another long and slow drag of his tongue across your pussy, Rockford's tongue lingering on your perineum. You quiver and sigh, legs shaking.

"Better put on a good show, sweetheart," he mutters, turning your head towards the mirror. "These guys get lonely all day, hunting down murderers and arresting lowlives.. their wives are hardly putting up with their constantly being gone. This might be the only treat they're gonna get. So if you're not gonna give us the info we need then you'd better fucking enjoy this."

He goes back to eating you out, forcefully wresting salacious moans and squeals from you. Your hands reach out behind you despite their restraint, your fingers barely brushing against Rockford's dark and touseled hair.

"Hands to yourself," he warns, sticking two fingers inside you and pumping steadily. The lewd squelching of your eager pussy, constricting around his invading digits, is the loudest sound in the room, apart from your whimpers and Rockford's excited grunts.

"Nah, you don't get to come," he says, taking away his fingers right before you're able to finish. You groan, hips jutting out in need of more. "Slut," he reprimands you, picking your head up by your hair and shoving his slick-covered fingers in your mouth, thrusting them in and out the way he had in your pussy, making you gag, your thick saliva coating his hand.

"You can come when you've told us what you know."

The only sound you're able to make is a feral moan around his fingers.

"I haven't even fucked you stupid yet," Rockford chuckles, and you hear the clink of his belt as he unbuckles it, the swish of his pants as they fall to the floor. You imagine what the others behind the mirror must be doing, if they're palming themselves, licking their lips. Your pussy is already dripping. You close your eyes in shame and in need.

Suddenly you feel the thick tip of him start to breach and you start to freak out, realizing he's actually about to deliver on his word.

"Now, now," he tuts. "You're gonna take it like the slut you are. Give me any fuss and I'll let the whole lot of them have a turn. And believe me, they're not going to be as nice as I am."

When your brain finally registers words to speak back, he lunges forward, bottoming out in one go. Your cry is one of shock before the pain dulls, your wet cunt taking him in greedily. He's big, bigger than any you've ever taken, and that's saying something. His large fingers dig into your hips as he pulls out agonizingly slow, watching his cock glisten with your juices.

"I couldn't resist," Rockford says. "I didn't want to wait. You don't know how long it's been. Your idiot boyfriend has kept this whole department on our toes with his shitty antics. All work and no play.. Well, we're gonna get a little bit of fun out of it."

He thrusts back in, unable to suppress a rough groan as you envelop him completely. He angles your hips down, the rough drag of his dick making your walls flutter against your will, and before you know it you're pushing back against him, your body begging for more. You tell yourself you're just wanting it to be over soon, that your eagerness will grant you better treatment and maybe he'll even let you go.

"There she is," Rockford says almost proudly. "She's good for something after all, boys," he tells the others behind the mirror.

The small room resounds with the pornographic sound of flesh on flesh, his hips against your ass. His cock punches the air out of you with each deep thrust, your cream collecting on his base, glazing his pubes.

"Who. Gave. Your boyfriend. The drugs?" Each word is punctuated by a particularly sharp thrust, Rockford's hand landing on your ass with each go.

"I don't.. I don't know!" You cry out, clenching around him. "Honest!"

"Yeah, we'll see about that." He reaches around and finds your clit begging for attention. Just a little pinch has you going nearly overboard, and you whine when he takes his touch away.

"Come on, sugar. Give me a name, any name. Hell, you could say Abraham Lincoln and we'd be square."

Your brain is too jumbled to think of anything but what's happening to you right now, the way his dick pummels into you as if he owns it, as if he's fucked it a thousand times.

"Don't be useless now," he warns, his own voice rough with need.

"I don't know," you mumble incoherently. "I don't know I donno I dunn-"

"A clear conscience doesn't need mercy," he says as he finally slows. "All right then, hurry up and come for me. Don't waste my time. Need you to squeeze my cock."

He starts up again, his finger on your clit in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. He's hitting that good spot inside, the one you can only reach with your toys. "Oh god!! Yessssss!!" you moan, your cunt spasming around him, your legs trembling, torso twitching as you come harder than you ever have. Seconds later you feel him shoot his load in thick ropes, pressing deep inside you as he finishes.

"Hope you're on the pill, sweetheart," he says, giving one final grunt as he squirts the last of his spunk.

He pulls out, pushing you further down on the table to present your cunt to the mirror, letting the other cops watch his thick spend dribbling out of you.

It's all a blur as he cleans you up, digging his fingers inside to get rid of any stray come that hasn't spilled out, and feeds it to you. Keeping you restrained he holds the soda to your lips, and you greedily take in the bubbly sweetness to wash down the saltiness of him.

The younger detective comes back, not meeting your eyes, and leads you to a holding cell, a scare tactic on Rockford's behalf. He'll get the truth out of you one way or another. And if you are truly innocent, he and his buddies will just have some more fun with you in the meantime.

You don't need to know that your boyfriend was bailed out hours ago.

tagging those who gave their explicit consent 😉and a few I think might be into it: @milla-frenchy @stevie75 @aurorawritestoescape

@stitch-away @itstheanxietyforme @whoaitspascal87

@vindictivegranny @strayyyyyy @mandaloriankait @electriclasso

@profoundthingnut @604to647 @inept-the-magnificent

@tateypots @myownwholewildworld @foreveratlantica-blog

@yorksgirl (if anyone is tagged and doesn't want to be, let me know and I'll fix it ❤️)

[luanna801]

Despite me joking about Lan Xichen not reading the room re: NMJ and JGY, I actually disagree with the idea that the Sworn Brotherhood was inherently a terrible idea and he should have known it would make things worse. I think it's a classic case where because we as the audience know how it turns out, that outcome seems like an inevitability and the characters end up being called dumb for not predicting it. But I think with the information Lan Xichen had at the time, it wasn't unreasonable for him to think this might work and was at least worth trying.

And I think in a different story, this is the kind of idea that could easily have worked and led to a heartwarming story about redemption and healed relationships. MDZS is just sadly not that story, at least for these characters, but as always fictional characters don't know what story they're living in and can't be expected to predict the future. All they can do is act based on the information available to them, and I would argue Lan Xichen didn't really have enough information to predict how this would turn out:

(1) At this point, the only time Nie Mingjue has tried to kill Jin Guangyao is when he mistakenly thought JGY had actually betrayed them and defected to the Wen side. Once the truth was cleared up, NMJ is still furious but backs down from trying to kill him. (JGY, meanwhile, has made no attempts to kill or even harm NMJ yet, and in fact actually saved his life.)

From Lan Xichen's perspective, he has every reason to think this incident was just an anomaly based on a very extreme situation where NMJ was acting on faulty information. He has no reason to think Nie Mingjue would try to kill Jin Guangyao again, or vice versa, so as far as he knows the worst case scenario for the sworn brotherhood is just... that it won't go great. That maybe they'll never really get along again, but they'll still collaborate politically for the sake of the Sworn Brotherhood, and there will be no real harm done that they tried. There isn't really a way he could have predicted things would escalate to them trying to kill each other.

(2) Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao used to not just tolerate each other but get along/work together EXCEPTIONALLY well, and Lan Xichen saw them during that time. He also knows they're both pretty closed-off people who canonically don't have a lot of friends and are hurt by the way things fell apart. It makes total sense for him to think they might be able to get back to how things used to be if they just got a chance to clear up misunderstandings and be reminded of the things they used to like about each other. And it makes sense that as someone who cares about them both he would want that for them.

(3) Lan Xichen sees both Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao as fundamentally good people. We can argue that he's mistaken in one or both of those evaluations, but based on what he knows, and indeed what they're respectively actually guilty of at that time, I don't think it's unreasonable for him to think so.

Most of JGY's worst actions are still in the future at this point. His only real crime (other than the things he did undercover, which LXC doesn't condemn) is killing the captain, which is an ambiguous enough situation that it makes sense for Lan Xichen to not consider it conclusive. Especially when weighed against what for LXC is far more substantial proof of JGY's goodness, like JGY having saved his own life when he was on the run, his time loyally and effectively serving NMJ, his incredibly brave and critical contributions to the war effort, etc.

Likewise, Nie Mingjue has yet to start acting as violent and unhinged as he later will on account of the saber spirit. While he's gotten angry, it was typically in rational ways that are largely proportional to the situation. He isn't doing anything comparable to the way he later flies off the handle at both Jin Guangyao and Nie Huaisang in largely irrational ways.

(We could argue that LXC should have known that he'd eventually end up there because of how saber cultivation works, but considering even Nie Huaisang apparently didn't know about it, I don't know that a member of another clan would have that kind of in-depth knowledge of the effects of Nie saber-wielding. LXC presumably knows the basic idea, but that doesn't necessarily mean he knows the specifics or how bad it can get.)

Therefore, from LXC's perspective these are two fundamentally kind, good people who all other things being equal should be able to work things out. And on the whole, he has far more evidence backing that up than contradicting it at this point in time.

[sylviewrites]

Request For: Seilah | @seilahstar on X.

masterlist · like & reblog to support the writer!

Sylus × Reader. character dividers belong to @manikas-whims. Angst to Fluff, Angry Sylus.

Silence.

The clock ticked, echoing around the room like a ghost. The space felt too small yet too big at once, your hair standing up in goosebumps at the apprehensive sensation. You were too aware of the wind outside the windows, too aware of the time passing by, too aware of your heart beating loudly and harshly against your chest.

Silence.

You gulped as you stared down at the ground, your arms feeling like jelly, your body too light. You could not meet his gaze, fear overtaking you. You knew there are not excuses this time, you knew that attack from the wanderer might as well have been the cause of your demise.

Silence.

You expected witty remarks, maybe even reprimands of how stupid you were to place yourself in front of him as a sacrificial meat shield. However, everytime you thought you could express yourself, words left you like a running foaming river. You thought he would be upset.

But all you met with was, defeaning silence.

And that was way worse than any speech you could've ever been given.

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

You received no answer, no acknowledgement.

Yet, Sylus kept taking care of you. He continued cleansing your gashes, fingers steady and precise in the way only experience could prove. His touch was as gentle as a feather, the sting of the needle piercing your skin back together barely registering in your spiralling mind.

"I don't want any of your shallow apologies," he clipped, eventually.

His voice was gruff, thick with emotion that he had attempted to hide. His crimson eyes were devoid of their usual gleam, almost dull as he watched the alarming amount of blood coating your [shade] skin.

"You were foolish," he hissed through his teeth. "You were bull-headed and irresponsible. Only a idiot would throw themselves into a battle with no plan."

His words stung right where it hurt, rubbing salt over the scratches. Tears gathered in your eyes and shame swamped your gut, you could no longer look at him and he refused to look at you.

The click of the medicine box echoed in the room, and there was nothing more that added to the quietude than Sylus's departure. He left the room without even looking back —

SLAM! he thudded the door shut.

The next days at Onychinus base were filled with tension. Everytime you crossed paths with Sylus, you turned around to hide, and he let you. He didn't seek you out to eat dinner together, he didn't try to call you over to watch a movie. Your comfortable, domestic routine was forgone as bitterness and heartbreak and betrayal creeped in, your safe sanctuary turning from a home to a hollow.

What do you do when someone doesn't want your apology?

What do you do when they don't want to hear out your side of your story?

"What was I supposed to do?!" you demanded, bewildered by his unreasonable behaviour. "Should I have let that shard hit you in that protofield? When I could have done something?"

"You are not indestructible," he pursed his lips, and it was so unlike his voice and tone that you wanted to claw his eye out and get your Sylus back.

"Neither are you!"

"I heal!" he snapped, standing up from the luxurious black chair behind his office desk. "I heal, my Evol has brought me back from worse injuries. I have taken your bullet to my heart," his hand darted forward before you could notice, wrapping around the collar of your shirt firmly without tugging.

"You don't heal," he snarled, reminding you the harsh cold truth with a frantic stare. "You don't heal and that terrifies me. Fuck you and your pride, I want you to live."

You panted as you looked up at him, his face so close to yours. You didn't miss was the desperate look on his eyes, gazing at you like you were a ghost, and you hated and hated until your heart broke at the realisation of what you were witnessing.

"You don't take your life seriously," your voice wavered, almost choking up your words. "You are not invincible either, Sylus," your hand reached out to him, tracing your fingers over the scratches on his face that hadn't healed.

You pressed a Band-Aid against his cheek, covering the scratch successfully. Your eyes softened, tracing the one big cut across his neck, your fingers gliding down gently as they followed the path red lines.

He took a shaky breath, his grip loosening, fiddling with the fabric so gently it felt like a apology. It was as if your words had struck a cord within him. He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead forward to touch yours, breathing in your scent.

Silence.

It was silent, but it was warm and fragile, like a weak hesitant embrace.

"I can't live without you," the confession was far too intimate coming from his lips. He hated the feeling of vulnerability in such circumstances. You two were made of banter and teasing, of tip-toeing around each other for the edge and the anticipation it brought until finally, one of you two breaks and becomes honest, the relief of the calm after a storm.

You smiled softly at him. "You have done it before."

He chuckled, no mirth behind his laughter. "Precisely," he whispered, thinking of something secret.

"I can't live without you," you murmured. his words were thrown back at him, but your voice was gentler, full with affection instead of shuttered desperation. you gazed at him lovingly, rubbing his cheek with reverence.

He leaned to your touch and he never wanted to let go.

"My Sylus is very special, one of a kind deal," you kissed his nose. "He is big and strong-"

He chortled, turning his head to your palm so he can kiss your skin.

"-but he's just my Sylus under my fingertips," you held back a grin, gazing into his eyes with devotion that was reflected right back at you.

"And he always protects me," a kiss on the edge of his lips. "He always makes sure I have no trouble coming here. He makes sure I am always wanted, and spoiled," a kiss on his cheek.

Sylus's eyebrows were furrowed over, his tense shoulders slowly losing their tension. He is sure you are trying to seduce him, always the mischievous sweetie you were, but your teary eyes tugged at his heartstrings.

He could never stay mad at you for long.

"He makes sure I am well-taken care of, even if he goes overboard most of the times. He respects my work and helps me grow as a hunter. He always supported me, even in my dumbest of times," you tapped his cheek. "A small part of me likes seeing the rubies he sends, because they remind me of him."

After so many days that felt likes years, you could manage the weight of his gaze.

It was blistering hot, never straying away from the sight of you as if he wanted to memorise all the tiny details, and in the long end, he relented first. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer in his embrace with a sigh of pure relief.

You snuggled against his chest, taking in his warmth. "I missed you."

"Are we being honest, now?"

You looked up at him, never parting from his embrace. "It was due time, don't you think?" you took a deep breath. "I hate it when you're mad at me."

"Ah..." he bite your cheek, causing you to squeal and flail in his arms. You scowled as you flicked his nose, your heart becoming lighter the more you admired his slowly growing smile.

"Sylus!"

"Be grateful it wasn't on your shoulder, sweetie. Otherwise, you would be bearing my mark by now," he had the audacity to look smug, even though his eyebrows furrowed, looking at you with a softness that was so familiar. You missed this, you missed him and his tall frame hovering over you, hugging you for being so precious to him.

You huffed, leaning up until your lips met with his jaw. "Hold me tighter," you demanded, and your wish shall always be granted.

He took you into his embrace. lifting you from the floor almost effortlessly. Your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

You watched him leaning in and your heart skipped a beat, as a kiss was planted on your lips no long after. It was gentle and loving, soothing the ache inside you.

"I missed you too." he whispered across your chin, planting a kiss there. "I'm sorry for losing my composure... you did not deserve that."

You kissed his jaw, cheek rubbing against his. "Promise you won't yell at me again."

"Oh, sweetie," he sighed, voice pained as his arms tightened around you. "I promise, I will not only try, I will keep it forever with me."

You frowned, head tilting so your lips could brush against his. "Hey, none of that. Arguments are common within couples, I just- don't yell, okay?"

"Never," he vowed till his very end.

[jaycewithawhy]

I am So Normal about this line. His later line about how he never asked to be human is good too but this right here...

Just... the way that Monty and Esther's relationship subtly reinforces the themes about abuse that the rest of the show explores.

The rest of the characters are dealing with healing from the various traumas of past abuse and trying not to continue the cycles they were hurt by but Monty? Monty is trapped in his abuse right now.

And the way that it's shown...

I saw someone point out that his cage is WAY too small for a bird of his size and that's 100% correct and 100% demonstrates that Esther is a shitty person but the thing about the cage that interests me the most isn't it's unsuitability.

It's the fact that the cage is never locked. Most of the time, the door isn't even closed. There's nothing physically stopping Monty from just skipping town. He doesn't seem to particularly like Esther - even at the start - and he's not subtle about it. We never see any indication that she has any magic keeping him bound to her. (It's not unreasonable to assume that she does, sure, but she's never once shown to use it and that's a narrative choice. The one time she threatens him for overstepping, it's physical.)

Even after he's shown hesitation in following through on her plan, even after they have their big fight, even after she remakes him against his will for the second time, we still see him return to that cage. And the cage remains unlocked, because Esther remains confident in her hold over him.

Because that's the thing about staying with your abuser. It's often not about being physically unable to leave the situation. Esther doesn't keep Monty trapped by locking him up. If she did, all he would have to do would be leave the cage to be free. The hold she has on him is much deeper and much harder to escape.

But not impossible.

It's a little betrayal, in the grand scheme of things, but he does finally act against her directly.

Thematically, it makes perfect sense to me that it's Charles who finally pushes him to rebel. Charles, who promised way back in episode one to befriend him. Charles, who knows exactly what it's like to be trapped by an abusive parent. Charles, who so desperately wants people in circumstances similar to his own be in the right so he can prove to himself that he isn't destined to turn out like his dad.

It's no surprise that Charles' immediate reaction to Monty's little act of rebellion is delight.

I really hope we'll see more of Monty in a season two. But even if we don't, I know he's going to be okay.

He's finally escaped.

[tinyfantasminha]

I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation

But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.

Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.

Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.

And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.

It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.

''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)

In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀

If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.

[nyaagolor]

Ranking the Ace Attorney main cast on whether or not I think they'd be a narc

I was making a more coherent, serious post about the different approaches to justice each of the characters have and how that is shaped by their backstory... and then I realized a funnier question is what they would do if they saw you eating a weed brownie so I made this post instead

Phoenix: In the trilogy era, yes. He trusts people, but believes that trust has to be built on pursuing justice and always accepting the harsh reality. He'd be sad about it, but a narc nonetheless. In his Beanix era he's making his money through "totally legal gambling" and on the hunt for questionably legal evidence so I have no doubt in my mind there's a pot farm under the WAA for supplemental income. He gives up his narc ways and for that I salute him

Apollo: If I were to pick a single member of this cast who is NOT invited to the rotation it would be him. He had zero hesitation throwing Kristoph to the wolves after working for him for years so I know he has absolutely zero qualms about ratting out his friends or coworkers. Loyalty means nothing in the eyes of justice and it means nothing to him. He's a narc.

Athena: She's gonna lecture you and look all sad about it, but she's no snitch. She's been through the rounds with Simon so she gets it. Having to know you hurt her feelings is enough of a punishment in her eyes

Edgeworth: He's not a narc but he IS obsessed with being right, so if you don't immediately fess up with exactly what you're doing he's going to send your stoned ass to the chess dimension and honestly I think that's worse

Franziska: Unfortunately she is a cop. Narc.

Godot: Diego-era yeah he's a narc, but after the coma? I feel like he has better things to worry about, he would just ignore you. He has some soul searching to do and some grief complexes to unlearn he doesn't have the time to be a lil snitch. Post prison I think he's stoned somewhere in Kurain and chillaxing, as is his right

Klavier: Don't let his rockstar attitude fool you he's a narc and extremely annoying about it. The gavinners tour bus is dry as hell and it's all Klavier's fault. Daryan offers him a line and he gets all uppity and says "the only LINE i want you doing is the third line in the prechorus, you keep messing up the syncopation" and that's the end of that discussion

Simon: He's been in prison so he knows what's up. Not a narc. Might glare at you until you share though

Nahyuta: He's a narc and will lecture you so long about it you're tempted to turn yourself in to get out of earshot. He also never forgets and never forgives. Datz is trying to reform him but it isn't going well

Sebastian: Yes, but I think the idea of him having to turn in someone for it would make him cry so they end up comforting him instead. Kay thinks he needs to try a weed brownie

Maya: I want you to look at me and tell me she doesn't smoke weed. Not a narc

Pearl: I think if she found out that her big sister figure smoked weed she would have a heart attack. Def a narc

Trucy: I can say with absolute certainty that if you really wanted weed she could find you a dealer faster than anyone in the cast. Trucy is a magician and has grown up around a variety of people involved with some seedier institutions, she knows better than to snitch. Has not been and will never be a narc

Kay: Will help you shoplift. Not a narc

Gumshoe: A narc on principle, but would feel really bad about it and would probably let you off with a warning if you started crying or acting upset because I think he's a softie. He's not unreasonable

Ema: If you think she has even the tiniest sliver of respect for cops you're lying to yourself. Not a narc and will actively help you evade police out of principle. A homie, honestly

Fulbright: Not only is he a narc but he definitely runs the DARE program at the local highschool and is printed on half the posters they put up in the precinct. I'm also like 80% sure he doesn't actually know how weed works

[mydearviserra]

Daughter of mine

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Alicent Hightower X Daughter reader]

Part one

Note: no nsfw, mother/daughter platonic relationship!! Reader husband is aemond

Warning: death, grief. Deepish kissing(aemond/reader. Doesn’t go further), miscarriage and birth( only by mention, two different sections by mention) , religion withdrawal. Blood. Written a bit rushed lol will probably go through it again

Summary: the guilt was eating at her faster then she thought, the guilt of being a horrible mother. One day she took it upon herselfto visit you. Once she entered your room she saw how tried you were with the newborn. Once helping you out for you to sleep she came to the realization of wanting to change, she needed to be there for you, to slowly make amends once and for all for you and her other children. But now another obstacle was made to block that from happening

“Dear what was that?” You sighed, closing your eyes to rub your temples, after collecting your breath you stared at him with a glare as I crossed your arms. You couldn’t believe aemond was acting such way

Aemond let out a weary sigh, his frustration palpable. “I’m tired of her meddling,” he said, his voice low and irritated. He leaned back against the wall, his eye fixed on you as he ran a hand through his hair.

He could sense the disapproval in your gaze, and he knew he was acting out of anger. But he couldn’t help it. Seeing Alicent with the baby, the baby she barely gave the time of the day, made his blood boil.

"She doesn't deserve to be around you, not after what she's done," he continued, his gaze hard as he pushed himself off the wall and took a step towards you.

"She's caused enough pain, I won't let her hurt you again," his tone softened a bit as he reached out to touch your arm, his touch gentle but firm.

You could see the anger and frustration etched across his face, but you could also sense the protectiveness in his words. His touch was gentle, but there was a possessive quality to it, as if he was afraid of losing you.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm your own emotions. You knew Aemond was just trying to protect you , but you also knew that he had a tendency to be impulsive and unreasonable.

"Aemond," you said, your voice calm despite the tension in the air. "I understand your protectiveness, but Alicent is my mother. I can't just cut her off like that."

Aemond's grip on your arm tightened, his gaze hardening as he looked at me.

"You don't understand," he said through gritted teeth. "She's done nothing but hurt you. She doesn't deserve your compassion, your forgiveness."

You could see the pain and anger in his eye as he spoke, and you understood the hurt behind his words. Aemond had seen the way Alicent had neglected me growing up,how she neglected all of us. Which why now he was fiercely protective of you.

"I understand that she has hurt me," you said softly, placing my hand on his, trying to ease the tension in his grip. "But you can't just decide to cut her out of my life like that. It's not your decision to make." Aemond's grip on you loosened, but his expression remained stern.

"It's for your own good," he said, his tone hard and unyielding. You took a deep breath, trying to keep your patience in check. You could feel the love behind his words, but his stubbornness was infuriating. He then pulled you into a tight hug, his hand rubbing your back gently

"Aemond, you can't just make decisions for me," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "I am not some child that needs protecting. I can handle my own relationships."

"You don't know what you're talking about," he snapped. "You're too naive, too trusting. You let people hurt you over and over again."

"I'm not naive," you shot back, your voice rising in frustration. "I just have faith in people, and I don't want to live my life being suspicious of everyone."

"That's exactly the problem," he said, his tone harsh. "You trust too easily, you see the best in people when they don't deserve it."

You could feel the tension growing between us, the frustration and irritation mixing with his protectiveness. It was a common dynamic in our relationship - Aemond wanting to protect you and while you fighting back against his overprotectiveness.

"Not everyone is as cynical as you," you retorted, crossing your nails digging into his back as you cling to him. "I can't just assume that everyone has ill intentions." Aemond's expression hardened at your words, his protective instincts kicking into high gear.

"You're too trusting," he said, his tone bordering on patronising. "You need to be more cautious, more careful. People will take advantage of your kindness, they'll hurt you when you least expect it."

"I know how to take care of myself," you said, your tone firm. "I don't need you to tell me who to trust and who not to- just..please understand I..I want her to be a grandmother even if she wasn’t a mother to us I need her to be in our sons life..." Aemond didn't trust my judgment, and it hurt.

"I'm not asking you to trust her," your own voice quieting down. "I'm just asking you to trust me. To let me make my own decisions." Aemond's gaze softened, his expression conflicted. You could tell he was torn between his protectiveness and his desire to respect your choice

"I want to trust you," he said, his tone a mix of concern and frustration. "But I can't just let you go back to her like nothing has happened. She hurt you, again and again. How can you just forgive her like that?"

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm in the face of his protectiveness. You could see the pain and worry in his eye, but you also knew that Aemond was blinded by his protectiveness.

"I'm not forgiving her," you said, your voice firm but gentle. "And I'm not forgetting her hurts. But I don't want to live my life holding onto anger and resentment. I want to give her a chance to be a grandmother to our son."

"You're too kind," he said, his tone stern. "You're willing to give her another chance, even after all the pain she's caused you. You're too soft, too trusting." You felt a surge of frustration at his words, but you tried to keep your emotions in check.

"You're too stubborn," your retorted, your voice rising in anger. "You're unwilling to see that people can change, that they can make amends for their mistakes."

"Change?" he said, his tone bitter. "You think she's capable of change? After everything she's put you through, you think she deserves a second chance?"

You could hear the pain in his voice, the skepticism in his words. He didn't believe Alicent had changed, and he didn't trust her not to hurt me once again.

"I don't know if she's capable of change," you said, your voice softening. "But I want to give her a chance. I want to believe that she can be better, that she can be the grandmother our son deserves."

“please it’s late..I don’t wish for us to go to bed upset..” you added in a pleading tone

You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that he was willing to set aside the argument for now. You knew we would need to continue the conversation at some point, but you was too tired to keep fighting.

"Thank you," you said, your voice quieting down. "We can talk more in the morning. For now, let's just be together."

Aemond nodded, he leaned down to press gentle kisses on top of your head He knew he was being stubborn, overly protective and slightly possessive, but he couldn't help it.

"I just want to keep you safe," he said quietly, his tone almost vulnerable. You took a deep breath, feeling a mixture of annoyance and affection at his words.

"I can handle myself," you said firmly, pulling back slightly so you could look at him. "I don't need you to babysit me all the time. I'm an adult, I can make my own decisions- by gods dear stop being stubborn and kiss me” you muttered as you rested your chin on his chest

Aemond's expression softened, his protectiveness giving way to desire as he looked at me. He couldn't resist the pleading in my voice, or the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes.

He cupped your chin in his hand, his thumb gently brushing across your lip. "You never play fair," he said, his tone low and amused. "But I could never deny you anything." With that, he leaned down and captured your lip, kissing you deeply and passionately.

You melted into the kiss, losing myself in the moment. Aemond's possessive grip on your chin sent sparks coursing through your body, and all your earlier frustrations disappeared as you surrendered to his touch.

His kisses were dominant and needy, as if he was staking his claim on you. But beneath the possessiveness, you could feel the love and desire in his every touch. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand moved down to your waist, pulling you even closer.

He wanted to forget about the argument, the worry, the protectiveness. He just wanted to lose himself in me, to feel my body against his.

I wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. You needed to feel him, to be close to him. His possessive touch was both frustrating and thrilling, and you found myself losing myself in the sensations of his kiss.

His hands roamed over your body, possessive and urgent, as if he was trying to claim you completely.

Aemond's body was hot against mine, his desire for you palpable in every touch and movement. He lifted you up, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried your towards the bed.

He laid me down on the bed, his fingers trailing over the curve of your waist as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of desire and possessiveness.

You could feel the intensity of his gaze, the way his eye roamed over your body, almost as if he was seeing your for the first time. It was possessive, dominant, and it ignited a fire within you .

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down towards you. I wanted him, desperately, and he knew it.

“I love you”

He leaned down, his lips hovering just above mine, his breath hot against your skin. "I love you too," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "More than anything. I just...I just want to protect you."

Your heels echoed the quiet halls of the septon, the dress dragged slightly against the ground. Your hands rested on your side swaying against the dress though your nails brushed against the embroidery the feeling help ground yourself from your heart beating from your chest. This particular dress, left a bitter feeling, green. You hated wearing such color, only left a bitter feeling each of remainder went back to alicent, she is green she morphs into the color of what she choice that day. When she stopped being the mother to stand tall as queen.

You and aemond woke up early, doing our regular routine to get ready for the day though I care for our son morning and night i left him with a nursemaid for the day. It took a lot of convincing for aemond to let you see alicent today. After getting him annoyed he agreed to shut me up, only for the agreement he’ll look for me soon. He didn’t want you to be alone with her for so long. During this time alicent visits the sept for morning prayer. As you passed down the halls, passing maesters and septa’s bow their head as you passed by. You kept my head high with a slight smile towards them, you tried to keep a brave face though biting the skin on my lips says otherwise. Finally you saw alicent with her knights closely behind, sitting beside her you stayed quiet for a moment as you light the candle in front of you, taking a shaky breath

“Good morrow mother..”

Alicent had been quietly praying, her eyes closed and face set in concentration. She was startled by the sudden appearance, but her expression softened as she saw her daughter.

"Good morrow" she replied, her tone even. "I didn't expect to see you here."

Alicent took a moment to look over her daughter, taking in her appearance. She could see the tension in your face, the way she bit her lip. Alicent knew this wouldn't be an easy conversation.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say. You had been thinking about this meeting all night, but now that she was here, she felt tongue-tied and uncertain.

"I...I wanted to talk to you," you said, voice quieter than usual. "I wanted to talk about...about us."

Alicent nodded, her expression taking on a serious tone. She knew this conversation was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.

"I see," Alicent said, her tone cautious. "What exactly did you want to talk about?" You took another shaky breath, gathering your thoughts.

"I...I've been thinking a lot lately," you said, your voice still soft and a little bit shaky. "About us, about everything that's happened between us." You paused, looking down at your hands, which were trembling slightly. "I just...I just want to understand. I just want to know why."

Alicent's expression softened at her daughter's words. She knew what you was referring to, and it pained her to think about it. But she knew she had to answer her daughter's question, even if it was difficult.

"I'm sorry" she said, her voice quieter than usual, but sincere. "I know I was cold towards you. I know I wasn't the mother you needed me to be. I stood in your life as a stranger..to you and all your siblings..”

Your eyes widened at her mother's words. You had expected an explanation, or perhaps even an excuse, but you didn't expect a direct apology.

"I...I didn't expect you to say that," you said, your voice laced with a mixture of surprise and hope. "You...you're apologizing?"

Alicent took a deep breath, her expression turning almost pained. "Yes," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "I am."

She looked up at you, her eyes meeting her daughter's gaze. "I've done terrible things, I know that. And I can't undo the pain I've caused you. But...but I want to try to make things right, if you'll let me.” She pulled your hands onto her lap “I’ll apologize every day if I have too”

Viserra felt a wave of mixed emotions wash over her. She had expected anger, denial, or even dismissal. But to hear her mother apologizing and wanting to make things right...it was unexpected, but not unwelcome.

"I...I don't know what to say," you said, your voice catching in your throat. "I've...I've been so angry for so long, Mother. I don't know how to just forgive and forget. But I...I do want things to be different..when you held my son for me last night I..I was so grateful..it made me realize I..I want you to be in my son’s life..I wanted you to finally be…there..you missed so much of my life..so much of aegons..Helaena and aemond- seven hells even daeron! but..what I can’t forgive if..when I was giving birth..I needed you i screamed for you and you didn’t came..”

Alicent took a deep breath, almost as if she was unsure about what she was about to say. "When you gave birth.." she started. "You called for me, and..and I wasn't there." She said the last words with a pang of guilt, her expression almost pained.

"When the maesters...they said.." she swallowed hard, the memory almost too painful. "They said you were...screaming my name. And I am so very, very sorry. I wish I could go back and change that moment, to be there for you and support you in your time of need. But I can't. And I know that's not enough, but...but I want to make things right."

Alicent's eyes filled with tears, hearing the pain in her daughter's voice. She had let her down, had caused her pain and disappointment. Letting go of her hands she place her hand on her cheek her lips quivering as tears stream down her cheeks

“The seven blessed you with the gift of a healthy boy…and I wasn’t there to hold your hand..I wasn’t there during the rough time of those moons..I..I missed so many precious moments because I..I was a coward to seek your forgiveness for my absence in your life..I wasn’t the mother you needed me to be” 

Your eyes flashed with anger, the pain of her abandonment still fresh and raw. She had needed her mother, had called out for her in her time of pain and fear, and yet she had not come. But witnessing her sobs, her gentle touch, I wanted to show I was still upset to put my foot down with how I felt but deep down I felt like a little girl again wanted to lay on her lap and cling to her as you once did. For her to comb and braid your hair with Helaena.

"You were supposed to be there, Mother," you snapped. "You were supposed to be my safe haven, my comfort in my time of pain. But you weren't. You weren't there for me when I needed you the most, when I begged and screamed for you. You weren't there, Mother."

Alicent's heart ache further knowing that she had caused her daughter so much pain. She wanted to take back that moment, to go back in time and be there for you, no matter how scared she was.

"I'm sorry my sweet girl” she said, her voice shaky. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could have been there for you, wish I could have held your hand and comforted you. But I wasn't, and I know that hurts you."

You took a deep breath, your anger slowly ebbing away as you heard your mother's sincere apologies. You knew that Alicent was truly sorry, that she regretted not being there for you. But the pain of abandonment still lingered, a gaping wound in her heart.

"It does," you said quietly. "It hurts me, Mother. But...but I want to forgive you. I want to try to move past this."

Alicent's heart skipped a beat at her daughter's words, hope flickering in her chest. She had expected you to hold on to your anger and resentment, not to offer forgiveness.

"You..you want to forgive me?" she said, her voice filled with surprise and tentative hope.

You nodded, a mixture of emotions swirling in her chest. "I do," you said, your voice firm yet soft. "I want to forgive you, Mother. I'm tired of holding onto this pain and anger. I want us to have a chance to have an our connection again ."

patience

Guilt

And sadness

Such condition is expected in motherhood, when shall one ever be ready for motherhood? When one had no guidance from a mother to teach you the ways of new responsibilities. Alicent had thought of such wisdom, wives tails as she roams the path of the gardens or the halls or her own private chambers.

It was a duty

Alicent had repeated as she tried to calm her wondering mine. A duty she, as queen and wife needed to do. Give the king children and heirs, each pregnancy has their own story. One that I shared alone with a room filled with maesters and midwife’s helping me give birth to those children. She wonders if viserys knows alicent begged for Rhaenyra to come to her aid, or how she felt relieved she had given viserys his heir she remembered the bright smile he had he held aegon in his arms. Aegon early moons viserys cared for aegon till it stopped, till everything stopped.

I was only there to warm his bed while I had no shoulder to lean on. Each pregnancy he showed little care for. The resentment and bitterness was ever so clear, oh how could I be so wrong? How could I let myself be blind that my children needed me, they needed a protector. Just like how I needed my mother perhaps if she never passed none of this would have happened, none of Otto’s whispering wouldn’t have happened. Maybe I could have still ate cake with my dear friend

But now as I stare down at my grandchildren, as I braid Jaehaeras hair and jaeherys telling me his stories while my sweet daughters watch from afar with a smile i havent seen in ages, I felt more content then I ever felt. All of my wrongs could be forgiven.

One by one I tended to patch my mistakes, Rhaenyra still hasn’t responded to my ravens. I wish to see her, I wish to see the my friend I wish to hold her close and tell her I’m sorry

Aegon has stop drinking less, he still wonders the street of silk yet Helaena tells me he comes back to their chambers more then he has before, even if they have a lose for words he tries to care for his twins. And days he drinks he comes to my chambers and rambling incoherently as he sobs into my lap. I could never make out about what he says, only one has I heard ‘why did you stop loving me’ all I could do was whispered sweet nothings as I ran my fingers through his messy hair.

Helaena, her resistance to my touch has worked better than before. As she sits on the floor with her children around her she rests her head on my shoulder as she whispered her tales while she embroidered. Half of the time I don’t understand but at least it’s something. There will be days she tells and shows me all about her collection, she rambled for hours on end all I could do with smile and nod. It didn’t take long for me to help continue on in her collection, shadow boxes hung the walls of her growing collection while I send her more bugs from around the seven kingdoms. The bugs make my skin crawl but anything to make her happy, anything to hear her speak to me more.

For daeron and aemond was difficult, daeron stop writing back years ago i wasn’t any better with writing back after his silence. With more insistence I began writing to him, almost every week a raven will be sent to old town hoping he’ll listen. I mentioned yours and aemond announcement of a second baby with Darron’s birthday soon she hoped he’ll come to kingslanding once and for all to celebrate his birthday and the news of the baby. It didn’t take long for him to respond back he’ll come back home. With aemond he didn’t respond to me making conversation, only muttering under his breath he isn’t a fool. He kept you and your son under your wing, always watching somewhere nothing couldn’t be help by it so I let him be for now. But I would watch him train with ser Cristion, under heavy precision I convinced aegon to join help him with new and better hobbies. I think aemond softened a bit as he sees I would stand there watching him the entire time, always clapped and enjoyed when he win.

and you, my precious darling. My sweetest darling. My darling, who help me out the dark tunnel to see the brightest light ahead. Who helped me see what was right in front of me, you. My children waiting patiently for me to reach to them once again. I’d never forget that night I came to your chamber, it was fate to seek you.

Fate to hold your son and to see how much time I let slip through my fingers, that my baby had a baby. The most perfect boy I’ve ever seen, the seven has truly blessed my daughters.

My precious darling how much I loved her, how much I see myself in her. Each day that passed I hope to make the air lighter for my children, that history won’t repeat itself that I will help make a new path for them, my daughters and sons will live happy lives no longer filled with darkness and anger

Darkness slipped through the crack and found its way to you, I prayed for this not to happen not when I’m trying to make things better

The night of daeron feast, the dinning hall only meant for us just something small and intimate for him. With his siblings and by surprising his half sister, uncle and cousins. I felt relief they joined us. One big family again, there was no fighting. Aegon and Helaena danced while aemond twirled you with your son in your arms

It was perfect, I shared a dance with rhaenyra.

Till suddenly you and your husband and son left, without saying a word. We all was stunned but viserys say nothing to worry about. But I felt a pit in my stomach, I left Rhaenyra standing alone as I rushed to get to them

Thin trail of blood trailed the hallways

Oh gods

Not my sweet girl

Everything happened to fast, seeing you cry, nursemaids taking your son away from the chambers, the maesters confirming the first. She lost the baby. All you did was scream and shout, I dropped to my knees beside you pulling you close to me like my life depended on it

“My sweet girl”

she repeated over and over again

Weeks has passed, you were nothing felt but a shell of how you were. Mute and refusing to leave the bed. Aemond and your son never leaving the room by his request no one was allowed in the room. Often times I would just press my ear behind the door hearing you and aemond sobbing. It continued for a few week till maids confirmed you were doing better slowly, eating more and taking better care of yourself

Each day, every hour I prayed and prayed. I needed the faith I needed you to be better, I needed you to heal your sorrows.

Today, after leaving the sept In early hours I made my way through the red keep towards your chambers, I was early up the stairs when the screeching sounds of maidens through the halls. My heart began to pound as I picked up the bottom of my dress running to the sound.

Please no

Please no

By the seven please

Time passed in slow motion as I watch guards pushed into your chambers. The maidens still screaming in horror.

Pushing my way inside I saw you on the bed, looking as peaceful you did that night as you slept. But now your son cradled in your arms sobbing his little arms reaching out.

“Darling!” She cried out as she rushed onto the bed, carefully picking up the boy she checked him quickly as I held him close to her chest, before turning back to you, shaking you frantically

She didn’t feel the maid pulling the boy off her, all she saw was her sweet girl cold and sickly pale. Her Tears dropped onto your face as she kept screaming till her throat gone dry. She begging the gods to not be true shaking your shoulders fiercely

“Don’t punish me please! Not my girl by gods please not my girl!

Once aemond rushed into the room hell broke lose, destroying the room, screaming his lungs out. He only left 10 minutes before the ladies in waiting came into the room to check on the boy, on their account they heard the boys crying with no end of it so they came inside to see your laying on the bed without a breath as you held your son.

“The world stopped the day you died

I felt it

In my bones

In my heart

In every fiber of my being

I felt it

The sun stopped being warm

The night stopped being cool

The brids no longer sang

When you died,

The world as I knew it did too

I did too. “

She couldn’t see many things the same the day the gods took you away, your favorite meal, your favorite color. The flowers in the garden she couldn’t see it without wanting to scream.

The gods were cruel taking my sweet girl away from her, she couldn’t bare to wear the pendent anymore she could pray to the same gods she pray for good health for you.

The maesters said the cause was due to a broken heart, a new wave of studies is happening due to many people facing the same issue throughout the kingdom. The stress of losing the second baby was to much.

Oh my sweet girl..

It should have been me

Tag💗: @minaxcarter

[peanutalergy]

currently missing my ex situationship who had a stardew valley save with me. that's it that's the whole post.

spencer never really played video games. of course he had in the past, and it's not something he actively avoids, either. but it's not a habit. it's not like he has a console and an expensive headset and a side of the couch solely dedicated to playing time like his girlfriend does.

he's partially scared of invading and interrupting your you time by asking to play with you.

he loves watching, though. the way you put your tongue out when you're focused on the screen, the awkward and uncomfortable positions you often find yourself in and he reminds you to get out of, the little yelps you let out whenever there's something remotely jumpy or scary happening.

he'll come home and see you on the couch, tell you not to worry about turning it off (even though wanting to spend time only with him is always your first thought after a long day away from each other) and he'll curl up next to you, talk about his day while he watches you mine. or he'll grab a book and sit beside you in sweet silence that's only interrupted by small complaints muttered under your breath.

but recently, since you told him you'd read his favorite book just for him, he's been more than he already was – which was a lot – invested in your own interests.

“can i play with you?” he feels like a kid in the playground during recess, unreasonably and unusually shy standing in front of you.

studying his face for a second, your own contorts into a confused smile before you laugh and hand him a remote. you scoot to give him space and he instantly settles beside you with a relieved breath. he's not even sure what he'd been so anxious for.

it's not surprising how good he is at your favorite game. (it's basically impossible to be bad at a cozy farm simulator, but) he does have an advantage when he can remember all of the important details of it. the phone you needed to have by your side to check the wiki is replaced by your boyfriend now – and he's prettier, too. a lovely substitute.

he doesn't mention the few inaccuracies, but it's like you can hear the thoughts swirling in his mind, “well, that's not really how refining quartz works.”; “technically, that's a male duck, but okay.”; “tilapia are freshwater fish” & “lingcod are saltwater fish.”

for some reason, he fills up three and a half cabins with conserve jars and barrels. he names his barn animals after intellectuals whose names you had never heard (or, frankly, cared about) before. he is not jealous of the town doctor. he sits at the library and does nothing pretends to read. calls it proper role playing. you think you might cry reading on screen the fact that he wrote your name on his “favorite thing” part of the character creation.

being too focused on the grind (he always laughs when you call it that), you forgot to let him know about the marriage mechanics in the game. when he reached eight hearts with leah, the villager he befriended the quickest – due to how easily pleased she is –, the letter he got about bouquets surprised him.

“i don't want to marry another woman,” there's a hint of hurt in his voice. he's almost mad at pierre, or maybe just at the game, for even assuming he'd ever do such a thing.

“she's not real, spencer.” you giggle, “but you don't have to marry anyone, you know.”

“can i marry you?”

“well, yeah, but only later on in the game.”

and from that moment on, everything he did was with the goal of getting a crafting recipe for the wedding ring. when you do get married, you both pretend you don't take it as seriously as you do.

maybe it's best if he doesn't know about the save where you married dr. harvey. it only matters that you're married to dr. spencer reid.