#and his anger and “lashing out” is the kind of stuff that broke through to cas

[aliasl]

and i'm going to rope bobby into this because everybody loves bobby and he's such a good dad......... but he is EXACTLY all the things you criticize dean for. bobby is angry (you wouldn't describe him as nice), bobby yells, bobby throws insults around, bobby asks how other people are feeling and then proceeds to give the advice of "now, bottle that shit up," and when you finally break through his exterior to get him to talk about his own feelings, he might spout something "abusive" like "i'm exhausted from helping YOU". but does that make bobby abusive?? i'd say not.

because the thing is supernatural is a show about men who often HAVE TO suppress their feelings in order to get the job done/ save the world, and even the most "enlightened" of them (sam) exhibit toxic masculinity traits of reflexively disparaging each other, being quick to act violently, suppressing "feminine" emotions like genuine compassion, avoiding casual intimacy (like hugs, which are reserved for if someone is dying), having a conditioned anger response rather than show fear - and the whole show is a journey of why they are the way they are and how they change

nobody is perfect here, and nobody is completely unforgivable.

abuse is purposeful, like john winchester, who had a history of neglecting and mistreating his sons - was confronted about it - and never changed his ways. he was abusive on purpose, in an effort to turn his sons into what he wanted: obedient soldiers

just to zero back in on dean: if he exhibits abusive traits, it's not on purpose, and you know that because he wants his family to be happy - he's willing to die for that. but he IS trapped in abusive cycles, and it's not because "he's poison" or incapable of change. we saw him get worse (picture from season 1 to ~ season 9); he can get better.

you think sam/cas/jack would call dean abusive? no. they know him. they understand and have empathy for him. they love him and know he loves them. they've just been trapped in a maze specifically designed to push their buttons and there was never time to deal, and straight up dean's self esteem has a long history of being so bad that he feels too guilty to just focus on himself and resolve his issues. his definition of selflessness/bravery is to bury your feelings as much as possible and help other people. sorry he explodes sometimes. that doesn't make him an abuser.

whenever i see someone arguing that dean's abusive toward sam and/or cas and/or jack, their argument almost always boils down to "dean didn't think/feel/believe/say/do what someone else wanted him to" with a side of "dean was mean to my blorbo" and it's so frustrating.

[queen-haq]

Fic: Alive - Part 26

Summary: Aidan traced the thin chain around his neck, rubbing the infinity pendant between his fingers. No longer a symbol of their everlasting love, it was something he touched in anger when he thought of Sage. It was the only thing of hers that still remained with him after eight years, the last possession which still connected them together. When he 4did find Sage again, and he would no matter how long it took, he planned to destroy the pendant - and her.

Taking place across two timelines, Alive tells the story of Aidan and Sage, high school sweethearts driven apart by who they are and where they come from. Once enemies then lovers, their relationship runs full circle when they meet again in the present, now prepared to destroy each other.

My Masterlist (contains links to previous parts)

Sage was working on her laptop when the knock on the door captured her attention. That was probably Aidan, here to meet Ziyah. Realizing the importance of what was about to happen next, she cast a worried glance at her daughter who was watching TV a few feet away. After Aidan walked through that door, Ziyah's life was going to change significantly - and there was no way to predict if that would be for good or bad. All she could do was hope Ziyah's experiences didn't mimic that of her own with her father, recalling Thomas and the pain and disappointment he brought to her life. It was terrifying to think of Ziyah being exposed to that, and just the thought of Aidan inflicting any kind of emotional damage on Ziyah - intentional or not - wanted to make Sage lock up the little girl forever. Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to stop the inevitable at this point.

"Mommy? Mommy! Someone's at the door. Can I open it?" Ziyah asked, looking at her with anticipation.

"No, honey. You stay here. I'll get it."

"You never let me answer the door. You're so mean!" Scowling, Ziyah stood up and stomped towards her room.

Sage exhaled a heavy sigh. Lately, Ziyah was throwing a lot of temper tantrums and although Sage had been concerned at first, she realised the change in temperament was normal after speaking to other parents and doing some research of her own. Of course, that didn't make it any easier to deal with. "I love you too," she muttered to herself, getting up to answer the door.

Seconds later she found herself staring at Aidan holding the most hideous stuffed toy imaginable. It was a pony, taller than Ziyah herself, and a godawful garish purple with a hot pink tail. Her gaze shifted to Aidan, who was watching her nervously.

"You think she'll like it?" he asked, his voice filled with trepidation.

"Well... it's definitely purple."

He glanced down at the pony. "I thought it was ugly as hell but then there was this kid in the toy store begging her mom for it. It was the last one there, I picked it up before they could grab it."

She crossed her arms, resisting the urge to smile. "So you stole a toy from a little girl?"

"Whatever. She was a brat anyway."

"Aidan!" she chastised even as her face broke out into a smirk.

"Hey, I was in that store for over two hours. I was going nuts trying to figure out what else to get Ziyah!"

"Please tell me that's all you got her."

"You want me to lie?"

"You're going to totally spoil her, aren't you?"

"I have to make up for a lot of birthdays."

She paused, wondering if he was going to lash out at her but there was no bitterness laced in his words.

"When I saw how excited that kid was over this thing, I figured Ziyah would be too." Teeth nipped at the bottom corner of his lips. "If you think she'll hate it... you know what, I'll grab the other stuff too. I don't want to disappoint her."

As he turned to walk away, Sage gripped his elbow. He stopped, focusing his attention on her. At first surprised, his eyes soon flashed with sheer intensity - which brought back that very unsettling feeling he tended to evoke in her. Realising it was a mistake to touch him, she withdrew her hand from his body.

"It's not a big deal," he said. "The toys are upstairs in the penthouse. It'll only take a few minutes."

"Aidan, no. It's fine. She'll love this."

He didn't look convinced by her words. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Trust me."

Finally, he smiled. "Yeah?"

"Just get in here."

He stepped inside the apartment. Thanks to his close proximity, the walls felt like they were closing in, and what was normally a spacious area started to feel as small as a closet. She took a few steps back, hoping that would help. He put the pony down on the floor to remove his shoes, and she noted how the stuffed animal almost reached his thighs.

"You're going to give me a tour of this place?" he asked.

"No."

He smirked. "Why? Worried I'll snoop through your things?"

"Well, yeah. You're definitely the type."

"True. I always did want to nose around your underwear drawer. Maybe now I'll finally get my chance."

"Shut up."

All of a sudden his face was overshadowed by fear, his gaze directed behind her. She turned around to find Ziyah standing in the hallway. Her daughter stared up at Aidan curiously, then at the pony, and back to Aidan again, apparently entranced by both.

"Ziyah, do you remember I said a friend of mine would be coming over today? This is Aidan." Sage looked to him to speak but he remained silent, frozen in place. Her attention shifted back to Ziyah. "Say hi, honey."

"Hi," Ziyah said, looking at the pony again. "Is that yours?" She pointed at the stuffed animal.

Aidan finally seemed to snap out of his stupor. "Uh, yeah. I mean, no." Flustered, he held it out at Ziyah. "I actually got it for you."

"Really?" A beaming smile appeared on the little girl's face. "You did?" All signs of shyness now gone, she practically ran towards the pony and wrapped her arms around the toy that was bigger than her. "She's so cute."

"Hey, what are you supposed to say when a person does something nice for you?" Sage asked.

Ziyah smiled at Aidan. "Thank you!"

He didn't respond, the nervousness vibrating off of him in waves. It was almost endearing to see him acting this way since he'd always been an extrovert. Popular in high school, star athlete, total flirt, and now he could barely say a word in front of a child. Thankfully, Ziyah was too busy chatting away to take notice of his strange behaviour.

"Does she have a name? Can I name her? I'm going to name her. I'm going to call her Pooja," Ziyah muttered to herself, rubbing the back of the toy gently.

"Aidan, don't you want to know why she chose that name?" Sage prodded, hoping that would be the push he needed to initiate a conversation.

He shot her a quick look of gratitude before kneeling down on the floor beside Ziyah. "Why that name?" he asked hesitantly, offering a small smile.

"'cause my best friend's name is Pooja. And she has long hair, like this," Ziyah answered, pulling the tail. "Now I have a best friend in school and a best friend at home."

"Wow, that's awesome," Aidan said.

"Do you have a bff?"

"I do," he replied. "His name is Theo. And you know what, he has really pretty hair too, just like Pooja."

Ziyah giggled.

"What do you and Pooja like to do?" he asked.

As the two engaged in conversation in front of her, Sage was struck by a sharp pang of jealousy. For so long it had just been Ziyah and her, their small little family that she loved and cherished more than anything in the world, and now Aidan was here and getting along great with Ziyah, and a part of Sage felt like she was losing her daughter. It was petty, and foolish, but she couldn't help feeling sad.

"Do you know Uncle David?"

Ziyah's voice brought Sage out of her reverie.

"I do," Aidan replied. "Your mom, David and I went to school together."

"That means you're my Uncle Aidan?"

His expression stiffened, and Sage sensed he wasn't fond of that idea at all. "No, honey. He's just Aidan." She approached Ziyah. "Why don't you ask if he'd like to see your toys?"

Ziyah flashed an enthusiastic smile. "Do you wanna see my robot, Aidan? His name is Jack and he changes into a car." "Wow, that's pretty cool." "And he makes noises, like a police car." "Does he talk too?" "Of course not!" Ziyah chastised. "He's a robot. He can't talk!" Holding the pony in her arms, Ziyah led Aidan down the hallway. "It's in my room. Do you want to see my room?" Sage remained in place, watching the two turn the corner and disappear from her line of sight. While the sadness was still present, there was also a strange feeling of hope surging through her. The smile on Ziyah's face, the way she and Aidan appeared to connect, it seemed to indicate the start of something wonderful. It was obviously too early to tell but maybe, just maybe, Ziyah and Aidan would have the kind of relationship Sage always craved, but never had, with her own dad. Cheered by that thought, she walked towards the living room.

***

Aidan sat cross-legged on the floor, listening to Ziyah while she introduced him to two of her favourite dolls. They were twins in purple dresses, had massive yellow braids, and although they appeared identical to his untrained eye, his daughter patiently explained that that was not the case. Apparently Rani and Karen had vastly different personalities and often didn't get along, but were forced to behave with each other or Ziyah wouldn't play with them. Fixing her big, brown eyes upon him, Ziyah emphasised she was the twins' favourite person in the world, they thought of her as a big sister, and that's why she had to punish them if they weren't being good. "Pooja says I have to pick, I can't have two favourites. But I love them both. I don't wanna pick," Ziyah said, putting both dolls on her brand new pony's back. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Aidan answered solemnly. Ziyah frowned at him. "That's not true. Mommy makes me do a lot of things I don't want to. I don't wanna go to bed sometimes but she makes me go. And I don't wanna eat carrots but she makes me eat them. And I wanna watch TV all the time but she doesn't let me." Shit. He chided himself for forgetting that he simply couldn't blurt out things in front of a child, and chose his next words carefully. "Well, Mommy's really smart, and she probably makes you do all that stuff because it's good for you." "I don't care," Ziyah grumbled. "When I'm a grown-up, I'm never gonna do anything I don't want to." He smiled, remembering feeling the same way when he was a child, but then something far more disturbing crossed his mind. As a kid he had spent a lot of his time wishing he was bigger, stronger, taller - anything that would make his father's beatings hurt less. He remembered the paralysing feeling of dread that would start in the pit of his stomach and then spread throughout his whole body, the helplessness he felt at not being able to stop what was coming next. Of course it was worse when he made a mistake, or misbehaved, in public. His father would be all smiles, putting on a cheerful mask for everybody, and even Aidan would go about his day pretending everything was fine - but inside he was terrified of the horrible punishment that awaited him at home. Fear had always been such a major constant in his life and it made him sick to think of Ziyah experiencing the same emotion. Feeling helpless again, he watched his daughter. Instinctively, he reached out to caress her hair to assure himself she was alright. "Ow, that hurts!" He withdrew his hand immediately, realising he must have pulled the strands too tight. "I'm so sorry." Panic surged through him like a tidal wave, he felt overwhelmed. Not wanting to frighten Ziyah, he stood up and quickly walked to the kitchen. Sage was on her laptop, sitting at the table, but he didn't acknowledge her, instead rushing towards the sink. "You okay?" Sage asked from behind him. He felt nauseated, and tried to puke in the sink but nothing came out. Turning on the tap, he splashed his face with cold water. "Aidan, what's wrong?" "I'm fine," he replied, his voice hoarse, taking the towel she offered. Patting his face dry, he turned to her. She was standing near him, studying him with concern, and for a moment it felt like nothing had changed and she was the same girl he'd always loved and could share all of his inner demons with. "I don't know if I can do this, Sage."

That girl disappeared in an instant; in her place now was a woman glaring at him with a hardened expression. "Fine. Get out."

She was right. He should leave, but he couldn't bring himself to move.

She swallowed an audible breath, averting her eyes from him. "I don't know why I'm even surprised. I mean, this is what you do. When things get hard, you run away. I guess I should just be grateful you didn't let Ziyah get too attached before you decided to ditch her." Her voice cracked when she spoke next. "What? Why are you still here? Are you waiting for me to escort you out or something?"

"You think I want to leave?" he demanded, closing the distance between them. "I don't want to go. I want to stay, but I don't want to hurt her!" He hated feeling this exposed in front of Sage, not when he knew she would probably end up using it against him - but he needed to explain himself and maybe, just maybe, she would understand. "Ziyah is a great kid. She's happy, she's funny, and she's fucking brilliant - but what if I mess all that up? What if I screw her up? You remember everything my dad did, don't you? What he used to do me? What if I'm like him? I mean, I don't think I am. I would never intentionally hurt Ziyah - but what if I just snap one day and hit her? I couldn't bear that, Sage. I can't stand the thought of hurting Ziyah." He tore his gaze away from Sage, disgusted with himself.

After what felt like a lifetime, she finally spoke. "When it comes to Ziyah, I don't trust you. At all. I don't think you have any idea what it means to be a parent, a good parent, and a part of me suspects you're only here for some excitement because you're bored with partying and fucking around."

As much as he wanted to argue back, he couldn't. She had every right to be angry with him.

"I hate the idea of you being in her life because you're immature, you're reckless, you can't commit, and you jump into things without thinking things through. But the one thing I've never worried about is you hitting Ziyah. If I thought for a second you would lay a hand on her, you wouldn't be here right now. Trust me on that."

Stunned, he met her gaze. Disdain still brimmed in her eyes but there was also a steely resolve in them. He didn't doubt for a second she was being completely honest with him.

"You're capable of a lot of nasty things but you would never physically hurt your child, or anyone else you loved."

"How can you say that with such certainty?"

"Because I know firsthand how deeply you love the people you consider family. Even when you have every reason to turn on them, you don't. You hold on, you protect them at all cost. I don't know why, but you're somehow compassionate towards them no matter how much they may have wronged you."

"I hurt you, remember? I came here with every intention of destroying you," he pointed out.

There was no emotion in her voice when she responded. "Yeah, but you never loved me. Besides, this isn't about me. This is about Ziyah." She levelled him with a cold stare save for the quick glimmer of desperation that flashed across her face for a second. It was like she was silently pleading with him to stay and prove her wrong, even if her words didn't betray any of that vulnerability. "If you want to walk out that door, then fine. Go. Do it now, but leave because you've finally accepted that you're a coward and don't want the responsibility of being a parent, not because you think you've inherited violent tendencies from your father. You're not him, you're not a monster, and you don't have it in you to hurt people the way he did."

Her words reached deep into his heart, somehow assuaging the insecurities that had crept up ever since discovering he was a father. With Sage there were no empty platitudes, just absolute honesty, and that meant everything to him. If she could believe in him, then he owed it to himself to stick around.

"So what is it going to be, Aidan? Are you leaving or not?"

"Nah, I'm sticking around. Besides, I'm supposed to help you guys bake cookies, remember?"

Her facial expression may not have revealed any changes but he sensed the enormous relief that emanated from her. It was almost as if a huge burden had been lifted from her shoulders.

"Yeah, that's not happening. There's no way I'll be able to bake that many cookies in one day."

"Now who's giving up, huh?" he teased.

"Whatever." She turned around, walked back to the table, and he was not the least bit shy about checking out her ass as she did. While she'd always been cute, her confident stature and the way she carried herself with absolute certainty these days had transformed her into a woman who was unbelievably hot. Back in high school, she was defiant and always had a chip on her shoulder. Now, she was comfortable in her own skin and simply didn't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion. "It's not a big deal anyway," she continued, forcing him out of his daze. "There's a bakery that I can pick up the cookies from. It's a bit far away but I'll go there after work tomorrow." "You do realise there's a bakery across the street from here too?" She cast him a snooty expression, as if he'd just suggested picking up poison instead of cookies. "Because, Aidan, cookies for the bake sale have to be nut-free. There can't be any traces of nuts in them. There are kids in school that are allergic to them." "Oh." "Since I'm not making them myself, I have to make sure the bakery doesn't use nuts and the only one that guarantees it is that one." "Didn't realise you have to take so many things into consideration." "You do." She smirked. "Welcome to parenthood. A lot of the times, it's a bitch." He laughed. "Text me the address. I'll pick up the cookies for you." Her eyebrow quirked up. "You don't have to do that." "I don't mind." Just then Ziyah stormed into the kitchen, flashing an exasperated glance at him. "Aidan, why are you here? You're supposed to be playing with me." She walked up to him, grabbed his hand. "Rani's being mean to Karen again and I have to talk to them. Come on." As Ziyah dragged him away, he sent Sage a grateful smile. "Thank you," he mouthed. She returned the grin, a beautiful, warm smile that filled him with hope and made him believe anything was possible - even a life with not only Ziyah, but also Sage.

To be continued...

@bustlingcrowdsxorxsilentsleepers​ @idaofinfinity​ @tiki-tequila

[lilitblaukatz]

Oh no I went and broke my heart with Jeff Satur

When I first watched Lucid I had an uneasy feeling which then dissolved in that fairy-tale. Those bruises, too real.

Then Jeff said that it was about home violence and that he wants to continue to show this theme.

The Dum Dum song as I remember from his interviews is about the toxic relationship he was in for two years prior. I may lose something in translation, so. That's what I gathered.

The original mv is quite telling. Straightforward even. The processing of the feelings of being hurt for so long. The anger and frustration.

Isn't the new version about the same things? Home violence and toxic relationships.

Yes, it's beautiful, but Jeff is beautiful and that's how ugly things done to someone beautiful look like (I'm not talking about us all being beautiful right now).

So I watched closely all the gifs all the lovely people in the tag had done. I watched it on my tiny screen with my slowest internet connection and while I'm waiting for some behind the scenes and Jeff maybe explaining himself, I want to share an uneasy feeling again.

I see the new version as an artistic processing of a common tragedy. When I try to understand it I see a comparison: like a child may process bad things happened to them through a fairy-tale like image of events, that's what Lucid looks like.

As for Dum Dum Unchained, that's obviously an adult view but it is a view of someone very soft who've been through something very rough. It doesn't toughen. He can't really lash out. He doesn't want to. All he can do is create. With those things he's been given.

Some details threw me off initially, like with Lucid. The lace blindfold. I thought, if it was real struggle, it should be painted harsher. There should be something else, like leather or thicker material, not flirtatious lace. Though lace is used often in thematic outfits. But that's what gave me new insight in the end. It looks too intimate, to just be a game. And Jeff is exactly Jeff, he can't be someone else. He is soft and kind, he told us recently he wants to write a metal song which is not like metal song and also that metal has a soft side too. So this is his reaction, his processing of the hard stuff. It's beautiful, it's musical, it's soft.

But he is an excellent actor and if you wonder what he wants to say, you may just look at his face. Those subtle expressions he's so good at.

The gestures. He feels the blindfold. He tries to get out. He bares his teeth. He smiles. That is his answer, he even sings about it. I wonder if he chose the English version of the song to show more nuances.

"Who hurt you bro"™ is as real for me as ever.

[writings-the-systems]

I made this post earlier but it broke my tumblr for a good few hours

Well this blog will be starting with Silver from Pokémon as a system

First analysis

Silver is a character from all the Pokémon Johto games along with masters and technically has a anime appearance in the Pokémon chronicles intro in Japan or his other anime appearance is Pokémon evolutions

He grew up in team rocket as Giovanni’s son along with probably being Ariana’s kid as well who is a team rocket executive

Silver is likely 11 or 12 in his first appearance

In his first few appearances he’s noticably defensive and even pushes the player when the player sees him mapping out how to steal a Pokémon

He gets the Pokémon stronger then yours

As the game continues he also has to be told that battles aren’t a war given he’s so defensive and aggressive

He eventually takes the advice and becomes nicer

By masters he’s able to catch ho oh given it sees him as caring in a way and he truly has grown and changed to be a good person to his Pokémon and to his friends like Gold

I feel everyone can see why he’s my first pick to make a system for so let’s go

Silver

Role: Host

Age: Ages with body

Pronouns: he/him

Basic info: The good ol Silver everyone knows at least the calmer parts he’s just trying to move on and get past the trauma in any way he can

Silv

Role: Anger holder / Persecutor / Past host

Age: Forever a angry 11 year old

Pronouns: he/him

Basic info: The host up until around half way through the game he’s angry given he holds a lot of trauma and unresolved issues and feelings and he doesn’t know how to handle them so lashes out

Rocket

Role: Little

Age: 9

Pronouns: he/they/it

Basic info: Literal fictive of what his dad cared more about then caring about him of team rocket but also Rocket is a little to represent what Silver should have gotten of that care the mafia got instead of him

Weak

Role: Trauma holder / Shame holder

Age: 11

Pronouns: it/itself

Basic info: the weak parts of the system personified into one alter and at first the system kind of hates this guy before they realize that weakness is only human and to instead be gentle to this guy and probably get him a new name

Toto

Role: Little / Factive

Age: 3

Pronouns: it/he

Basic info: A factive of the system’s Totodile given the Totodile was the first time they learned to be soft and care for something so they formed a little

Gold

Role: Soother / Factive

Age: Ages with source

Pronouns: he/they

Basic info: A Factive of Gold which the system hates to admit they have given it shows how connected to the guy they’ve become but genuinely Gold helped them in so many ways that they got a Factive

Now reasonings behind stuff and how these guys function

First thing you all may have noticed is the lack of adult alters which is because when has a adult ever done good for the system? Never

And sure the system grew up too fast but they more don’t notice that and instead assume all kids are capable of all of this or weak

They don’t have a strong concept of maturity or age at least when they are 12

Next thing is I personally like Silver to have Totodile as a starter so this is based on that but feel free to just swap Toto out based on your headcanon :3

Also this system probably has more members but these are just what I thought of and I think they would be fragment heavy

Also this is only based on games but in pokespe he would have a Green/Blue(f) Factive too oki?

Reminder this is all my ideas and you are allowed to have your own

Now take a image of Silver to go

he so sad *cries*

[the-slasher-madame]

Bo Sinclair Angst//Comfort

Well gang, this might be a bit of a doozy. I’m not the only one, and it ain’t all that big a deal, but there’s definitely stuff that people have said/done that sticks with me and I believe is a little traumatizing. One of those memories has been bouncing in my head, so I thought I’d write what I wish could’ve happened, or just a way I’d like to be comforted. I still have troubles like, I guess properly giving credit to this kind of stuff. Like I call it sugarcoating, I just tend to underexaggerate stuff to protect people’s feelings or keep them out of trouble (them being my parents) and I do not support comparing trauma but I know this stuff isn’t as up there as what other people have experienced. Either way, it hurt, and I’m still trying to think through different thoughts and feelings I have. So there’s my piece of vulnerability for the day, and this is a way I’m trying to learn to use to help work through some of this <3

TW/Notes: heavy content, Bo being aggressive and scary, reader remembering stuff from their past, angst then comfort, fluffy ending, kind of a panic response/anxiety attack sort of deal, Bo yells at reader, gender neutral reader, reader likes stuffed animals, canon typical violence, as always let me know if I missed something

Also while this is based on a memory, it wasn’t quite as intense as this story

// Shit shit shit shit. The victims that ran through Ambrose today had been a lot to handle. Almost too much, but only almost. They had started by being rude to Lester, commenting on his appearance, his job, and his truck decorations. He’d given Bo a look when dropping off the tourists that had told your lover everything he needed to know. Despite his personal feelings, he tried to pour on the charm, but the group was just as snobbish to him as they were to his brother. Bo managed to get some of them to head towards the wax museum, taking care of the one that remained at the stations before radioing towards Vincent. All hell broke loose from there, and this group of asshats put up a fight. You had been in Ambrose long enough to form an attachment to the brothers, particularly Bo, and once the carnage started he always made sure you were safe in the house while he took care of the dirty work. You’d paced while the twins took care of their latest victims, but Bo absolutely hated whenever they got a group that tried to fight back. Sure, he loved a good struggle, but this group had gotten a couple of scratches and kicks in which only pissed him off beyond belief. You loved him, but you knew exactly how short his temper was. He’d yelled at you before, lashed at you with his rage when he couldn’t hold it anymore, but he tried his best to spare you from all that. He remembered how it felt getting yelled at as a child over nothing, and he knew you were a sensitive individual. He actually loved that about you, how emotional you were and how honest you were about it. But...it wasn’t always best when it came to his volatile anger. 

You were sitting at the kitchen table, the slightly yellowed lights above you keeping you company with their constant hum as you sipped at your water. Night had fallen maybe an hour ago, maybe two: long enough that you were beginning to worry more than usual. You almost dropped your mug when the front screen door banged open and slammed shut, all the while with your lover letting out curse after curse. You set your mug down carefully on the table, starting to shake with the anxiety that sprung from Bo’s anger. You never delt with other people’s anger very well, especially when it came to those that were intimidating in their rage. Your head was lowered, staring at the mug grasped between your trembling hands. Bo stormed through the kitchen, heading straight to the fridge and it made you jump again. You hoped he hadn’t noticed, especially as your anxiety grew. Oh, he had unfortunately noticed. Bo was already in a foul mode, and he didn’t want to have to worry after you (and he felt guilty that you looked so shaken, knowing he’d done that to you). 

“The fuck you lookin like that fer? I just walked through my own goddamn kitchen,” he hissed at you from his place next to the fridge, a beer already retrieved and held to his lips. You looked up at him, quickly moving your eyes back to your hands that had retreated into your lap. He didn’t like this, feeling like you were ignoring him and his rage was reaching a breaking point. Bo’s voice started barking out to you, getting louder and more aggressive as he went on, “fuck off, it’s not like you do a goddamned thing around here.  YOU CAN’T EVEN FUCKING LOOK AT ME HUH? BRAT, I’LL FUCKIN SHOW YA-” He pushed away from the counter, his bottle left on the countertop. Whatever courage you had fled when you saw him move, and you were thrown back to a memory of your father, one you had been thinking about for the last few days. He never beat you per say, but you had been spanked a fair amount as a child and had more than a fair share of arguments and fights from your parents. It left a lot for you to work through, but you were trying. You were trying for Bo, just as you knew he tried to be more patient for you. 

All that was gone from your mind as adrenaline pulsed through you, feeling more like pure fear racing through your arteries. Coherent and reasonable thought left you, sending you into fight-or-flight mode. Your body chose flight, and you quickly scooted out of your chair to shove it in Bo’s path before darting out of the room. You were starting up the stairs while he moved the chair aside, swearing at you. You knew, you knew that he wouldn’t hurt you, but all you could feel was fear. Your mind was sticky with it, heightening your senses while dulling your thoughts. He was moving after you, fast, his mind still on the idea of a chase. He didn’t even know what he was chasing you for, you had run and he had followed on instincts left over from the previous activities of the night. You were jumping off the top step towards the hallway while Bo was halfway up, sweating and trying to gain on you. Your body somehow found a way to push forth another burst of speed, racing forward and lunging into the guestroom and shoving it closed. You locked the door and ran to hide under the desk in the room, a place you had taken to using as a studio for your own crafts. You never really knew why, but you tended to like hiding under desks and the likes when you were distressed (though it was most definitely an unconscious decision at the moment). 

You had your hands over your ears (another default position of yours) and were shaking worse now than you had before. Bo slammed in the door, hard, cursing more as he tried to shake the handle open. Each word, each shake of the door made you sink in on yourself, and your heart was beating like you were in a horror movie. The banging stopped as Bo’s footsteps stomped off, and you took a few deep breathes that almost started to take the fog out of your mind; however, Bo was starting to bang back towards the room, and you swear your heart stopped when you heard the lock click. Fuck how could you forget he had a key to every room in his room? You shrieked when the door opened, and tried to shove yourself harder under the desk. Bo stopped for a moment, still seething, but that’s when he started to notice exactly how bad you were freaking out. He turned towards you and your desk, and you let out that horrible shriek again. It was pure pain, animalistic fear. Bo hadn’t heard that sound from you since you first came to Ambrose, and it stopped his rage in its tracks. He ducked to get a glimpse at you under the desk, and you started sobbing loudly. You’d had tears falling down your face since you had made it under the desk, and the whimpering had started as soon as the first scream had died on your lips. You saw him peering under the desk and you were sobbing, really sobbing. You tried to quiet down, whimpering out apologies to him about the noise and whatever had happened, but what really hurt him was hearing you say, “please don’t hurt me, I’m so sorry.” 

You were still trying to back yourself further into the wall, and Bo started to worry you’d end up making a hole in the drywall from how hard you were moving into it. With his anger evaporated and replaced with guilt, Bo backed away slowly and left the room to gather some supplies to try and calm you down. He hurried back down the stairs to grab a water bottle, then went back up to stop by your shared bedroom. He knew how much you loved your stuffies, how comforting they were to you, and grabbed two of you favorites: one that you had said was the perfect cuddle shape before, and one that held sentimental value to you. You were almost hyperventilating when he returned to the room, and your sobs picked up again as he moved past the desk. He sat about a [meter/yard] away from you on the floor, settling in to try and calm you down before you passed out. Bo had seen you have an anxiety attack before and thus had an idea of what to do, and he couldn’t even begin to think about exactly how guilty he felt that he had caused one. Bo loved you and trusted you, he’d accepted you as a Sinclair and sworn to protect you like one. His heart ached hearing your small wails and soft screams.

He sat there a few minutes, letting you adjust to his presence in the room. When your cries had slowed somewhat, he slowly slide your cuddly stuffie towards you, figuring you would need something to hold on to and ground yourself with. He was right, and you gripped the thing like a lifeline. He stayed where he was, watching your breathing slow ever so slightly. He started inching his way closer when he determined that your breathing was steadier and that you were now just crying instead of those gut-wrenching wails of fear. Your eyes locked on him, but you were regaining some sense of control over your own mind again and thus let him approach. However, you did not move to greet him, you were still wary of what might come next, your anxious side telling you to still be alert. Bo finally reached the desk, still sitting with you on the ground. He stayed still for a few minutes, once again letting you get used to his company. He felt relieved when your muscles relaxed, and slowly slid under the desk with you. 

“Hey doll,” his voice let out softly, “could we maybe move out from under here? Can’t be comfortable sittin all cramped up like that.” You thought a second before nodding, and he started to move back out. You followed him, reappearing from your safe spot under the desk. The two of y’all were still sitting close together has Bo whispered to you once again: “Come ‘er darlin, it’s ok. Just let me hold you alrigh?” You nodded again and almost launched yourself into him, curling up in his lap. You had your one stuffie under your arm, and he placed the last one between the both of y’all’s chests before encircling you with his arms. Time passed like that, him crooning to you all the while. 

Eventually you were back in control of yourself completely, and you too started to feel a bit guilty. You hated when you reacted badly to anything, when you got pulled in to a dark pit and felt like you were overreacting when you came out of it. You looked up to his eyes and started with, “I’m sorry Bo, I shouldn’t’ve-” “Hush darlin, it’s alrigh, I shouldn’t a run after ya like that. Shouldn’t a yelled at ya either,” he interjected, knowing exactly where you were heading with this. “But I-” “Nope, you jus reacted, an tha’s ok. I promise I’ll do better, yea? Ain’t gonna scare ya like that again, I promise,” he said, trying to reassure you that this was not something you needed to feel bad for, and that he would fix it. He would not let this happen again, he cared too much for you. Truth be told, he worried about you most of the time. He knew some of the things you had struggled with in the past, and he was terrified by the thought of losing you to them.

You leaned back into his chest, too tired to keep going with this train of conversation. Bo placed his arms around you so that he could carry you to bed. He sat you down, made you take a drink, and tucked you in carefully. He tugged off his boots and hat, climbing in to bed to hold you close to his chest (he was fond of being the big spoon, he felt like he had a living stuffed animal to hold and take care of). You fell asleep fast, drained from the wave of adrenaline and the emotional turmoil that had come with it. He placed kisses along your neck and behind your ear sporadically, almost as if he was trying to remind himself you were here. Vincent peeked his head in the door after you had fallen asleep, looking directly at his twin. Bo raised his hand to fingerspell ‘later,’ dropping it back to hold you around your waist. You turned over to nuzzle into his chest, stuffies still held tight in your arms. Vincent gave one last look before moving on to whatever he needed to do, and Bo eventually fell asleep looking at your face, swearing to show you how much he treasured you. 

- Alrighty finite. This was more intense than the memory I have I think, I only remember getting in an argument with my dad and he chased after me to spank me. Not great, but could be a helluva lot worse. I want Bo Sinclair so bad, I just want him to sit and comfort me and hand me stuffies. Anyways, I hope y’all enjoy my late night angst/comfort lol

[caspianjames]

Having Young Royals brain rot now about August??? I think he’s often made out to be the villain and he’s really,,,not??? Did he do a shitty thing? Absolutely. Do I think he’s a bad person? Absolutely not. He’s incredibly well written and I think in a lot of ways he’s very easy to empathize with. Here’s why.

That kid has pretty much everything going against him. Canonically he’s what? 17? 18? His dad is dead, he clearly doesn’t have a good relationship with his mom or stepdad, he’s clearly never had a safe space to process his dads death and work on recovering, he’s relying on stimulants to get through school, the girl he likes decides to date him but only cuz she can’t get his cousin, he has virtually no caring adults in his life, he’s bankrupt and terrified that the only semblance of normalcy he has left (hillerska) will be ripped out from under him. That kid is a fucking mess and absolutely the consequences of this mean he’s going to lash out. He gives so many warning signs that he’s not doing okay too. But so, to break this down point by point:

1. His dead died in a rather horrific manner, his mom moved on but clearly was not around to make sure that her son was okay. He’s often referred to a stupid or prideful for not wanting to give up part of the family estate so he’s not bankrupt except that’s the only thing he has left of his dad. And it’s not even his fault he’s bankrupt, he’s a kid!

2. Not having a safe space to process his dad dying is sort of visibly a given, but actually to take that one step further I think he DID have a safe space. It was Erik. And then Erik died and this kid truly has nothing, not even Wille because he was more interested in Simon than paying attention to what August was going through (which isn’t Wille’s fault, he hardly knew August and clearly had different values and stuff from august. But watching the show I get the feeling August is really looking to be someone meaningful to Wille and Wille just,,,really doesn’t like him). He said this in a roundabout way to Felice, too, when he was jealous of her relationship with Willhelm. It was something like “you’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to comfort me so that I can comfort him.” Which I think is a two fold thing where firstly, no one realizes how hard Erik’s death hit him and how much he needs someone to tell him that stuff is going to be alright, but secondly, the last thing we see Erik tell him is to take care of Wille. So now he also feels like he’s failing to do that. And Willie, the one person who he could relate to about Erik, hardly wants anything to do with him.

3. I am SO interested to see where the plot will go with the meds he’s relying on. I don’t think it’s ever actually made clear if he thinks he DOES have ADHD or whether he’s just using the meds to cope but either way it’s a problem that shows he doesn’t have adequate support, you know? Even the school counsellor dude was just like “ok guess ur gonna walk out of my office bye then” instead of altering the headmaster or his parents or a teacher he trusts or ANYTHING. And, as the season progresses he gets more volatile. Why? He’s out of meds (and, whether or not he actually has ADHD and needs meds, that means he’s low on dopamine and is going to start doing stupider stuff to get his brain to reward him). (Side note, given the role ADHD and also substance abuse plays in the series I really, really hope they do both concepts justice)

4. Felice dating him even though she has no interest. No hate to her for that, honestly, I don’t think she was really interested in anyone except making her parents happy with her. She’s under a whole different kind of pressure. But august? He clearly really likes her and is trying hard with her, until everything sort of falls out of his grasp nearer the end of the season cuz he thinks she’s in love with Wille and is otherwise not coping well at all.

SO ALL THAT leads up to him outing Wille, which we see from Wille’s POV but never really from August’s, right? We see Wille yelling at August about how he was supposed to be able to trust him, but honestly I think from August’s POV Wille broke that trust first. We said already that pretty much the only thing August had left going for him was Hillerska, and by extension his friends and community there. When Wille wants them to make Alex take the fall for the drugs to save Simon, he literally exposes August and basically rips that away from him sooner than August is ready for, because now all the boys know that he’s bankrupt. In Wille’s mind it’s not a big deal - it’s a means to an end and he already knows he’s asked his mom to cover August’s tuition. It’s a very calculated but very smart move.

Except that Hillerska is all that August has left, and in a sense, Wille takes that away from him. Can you imagine how horrible that would feel for August from someone he trusted?? And honestly there is nothing more dangerous than someone who has been wronged and feels like they have nothing to lose. You can tell when Sara sees August at the computer. He doesn’t make up a story, he doesn’t care. He just wants to hurt Wille back in the only way that he can regardless of the consequences.

I don’t even think he’s homophobic or anything, either. He took the video initially to make fun of Wille with, and then when he realized what it was he didn’t say anything. But in that moment that was the one thing he had on Wille that he could weaponize because he knew it would be taken badly by the general public. 

And then he gets the call of his tuition being paid and you can see reality crash down around him when he realizes rationally what he’s done.

Anyways. My conclusion is. This poor kid has literally no one looking out for him. Like, not a single person. And that’s what happens, you know? No one does horrible things or irreparable damage to themselves or others on a whim. There’s almost always a build-up of hopelessness or anger that has to overflow first. This is a real life thing. This shit is preventable. And I really, really hope we get to see that with August. I hope we get a redemption, but an honest one. Because no matter what led to his actions, they still have real consequences. I hope the show creates a storyline where we see him getting what he needs from the adults around him while also having to deal with the consequences of his actions. 

[ask-the-sinclair-brothers]

Hi admin I was wondering what other kind of headcanons you have for the brothers. It can of anything random, like what it was like for the boys to grow up without showing emotions. Or what they were doing before wade and Carly ended up in Ambrose.

// OOC OH I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS.

I have a few and these are basicly all scrambled but I will catagorize em. But first a lil disclaimer it follows half the movie plot but also half my own.

The movie plot/Backstory of the brothers: TW: Mentions of gun use / Suicide etc Keep in mind that while watching the movie the story Bo tells about Victor and Trudy, and that Trudy had a cyst in her brain and Victor couldn't do anything but at one moment he'd either shot Trudy and then himself. Which resulted into Bo, Vincent and Lester going into foster homes.

However we later see in the movie the funeral Bo was attending was for Trudy and we saw that there she died of old age. So how much is true of Bo's story?

My Headcanon:

Trudy did have a cyst in her brain, started in 1982 when the boys where 12 years old, but at the time they thought it was a burn out. Victor didn't have the guts to put her down, Victor at one point couldn't handle it anymore, waited untill the boys where a bit older. So around 15 years old and then ran off somewhere and left Trudy in the care of Bo, Vincent and Lester. Making the three boys having to take care of their mother died in 1995. Ten year before the movie starts. When the boys where 25, and Lester was 20.

Vincent Sinclair Headcanons

Due to the fact that Vincent wore a wax mask and it could be hot, he never attended any schooldays where the temprature was too hot for his Wax mask to handle.

He actually had his first kiss with a blind girl in his highschool class. Due to the fact that she was never able to see his mask she was one of the very few people that Vincent allowed himself to open up to.

He dated her for a few months during his junior year but they broke things off because he rather stayed in Ambrose and she left.

Vincent can speak, but he also knows sign language because he as a child he would suffer from selective mutism.

Really cares alot about Bo, even tho Bo sometimes has anger issues that resulted them into acted them out on him.

His favorite color is red because his mama Trudy would always put on a special red lipstick if she and Victor would go out on a date.

He never had a good relationship with his father Victor, since Victor wanted a son who he could teach medicine to. But since Vincent leaned more towards his mothers talents Victor also lashed out at him.

Just because he seemed to be quiet most of the time and doesn't confort people correctly does not mean he has some tricks up his sleeve.

Before they started turning people into Wax, they actually where just robbing tourists and other visitors.

He can be both dominant and submissive.

He seems to be the more motherly type in regards to Bo and Lester.

Loves cuddles, headpats, attentionand affection from his S/O

Would call you Sweetheart, Baby and honey

Would love to have kids, but is also very respectfull with his partners wishes.

Bo Sinclair

Where do I start, even in his early childhood Bo was sadly hurt in more ways then we think. (think of physical stuff like scars on his back)

Due to the surgery that was needed to seperate him and Vincent from eachother. I believe he got a bit of brain trauma. (Keep in mind Victor lost his license due to the procedure) That is why he had a bit of a temper.

Bo started to smoke at age 14 in a way of of being in control. He never liked it, he just started to do this because he needed control in one way or another.

At one point he was big and he started to rebel against his dad because he grew taller then Victor and would reguarly pick fights with him.

Did want to become a doctor and follow his fathers footsteps, but he was afraid that he would not be able to handle seeing another child go through the pain he did as a kid. So he decided to focus on becoming a mechanic.

Was mean towards Vincent growing up, and at some points was pretty mean to him. But has always felt guilty about it.

Even though Trudy did not always understood him due to his anger as a child. He still loved her deeply.

Trudy would read to him and Vincent as a child, but would always make sure to have Bo pick out the bedtime stories as a kid since she felt she wanted to make it up to him.

His first love and his one that got away was Darlene Smith, a sophmore when he was a senior. He went out of his way for her but her folks didn't allow them to have a relationship.

He and Darlene kept seeing eachother and sneaking around but it didn't last long because they send Darlene 4 states away to live with other family.

He is the more dominant type

Can be sweet if you ask, and is caring but has a very hard time of showing it to anyone.

The way to his heart is to cook for and with him.

Is open for kids with the right person. But terribly scared of hurting them.

Into BDSM etc ( I mean we saw the movie)

Can do aftercare, but ya need to remind him about it.

But if his partner doesn't want kids he is okay with that too.

He was the brains behind all the robberies.

He and Vincent did the most caring for Trudy when she got that cyst. They did not allow Lester to take that burden.

Lester Sinclair

He is a guy that due to his dad leaving, and his mothers passing is basicly looking at life like. Fuck it.

A big outdoor kid

Loves anything animal related, even if he had to sometimes get meat/dinner for him and the boys

He kept begging Bo and Vincent for a dog after his mom passed away because it reminded him of that happy time they where together.

Is the youngest but can manage himself more then Vincent and Bo due to the fact that they where so busy taking care of Trudy they seemed to forget him a bit.

He was the son Victor would have loved teach medicine. But ofc he left when he was 10 years old.

Lester can have a type of humor that might not always be appropiate. "A hole is a hole."

Loves sex alot, and loves to praise women.

If ya ask Lester what his favorite thing about you is he'd praise you into heaven.

He is also a "Don't mock it till you try it guy"

He was an akward kid growing up because word around town got to him about his Brothers and Mom.

But he didn't care, he had his own lil group of friends and found his way through puberty and ambrose.

Has eaten mantis and other insects before because he is crazy.

He wasn't as active in Ambrose as you thought he would be. Because he works as a butcher a town over.

So he knew about the town being deserted and the robberies. But he ain't snitching on his brothers.

[zegumi]

Ushijima Wakatoshi SFW alphabet

alphabet template here

fluff I sfw I gn reader I hcs

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

at first he's quite hesitant on showing affection, wondering if you're comfortable with him being that close to you. he starts off easy: holding hands, letting you rest on him... etc.

once he feels more comfortable with you, he starts placing his head in your lap and giving you little kisses here and there

his favourite forms of affection are: forehead/cheek kisses, back hugs, holding pinkies, and resting his head on your shoulder

when you’re not around he shows affection by talking to you to his closer teammates but subtly, he brings up your name once in a while and a teammate will tease "ooo somebody's in looove" and he starts blushing profusely, asking if they can go back to practice, but the thought of you never leaves

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

being best friends with ushijima seems very rare, he's pretty selective with letting people close enough to earn that title

with you it was unexpected, you weren't afraid or cautious of his stoic upfront. you sat next to him in class and tried to make conversation with him, making sure to include him in conversations and asking how he's doing once in a while. he lets his guard down a little and you guys get even closer, he even invites you over to help with some schoolwork and suddenly you guys are spending more time together outside of school

he's kind of hesitant to call you a best friend, but when he sees that you’re okay calling him yours, he adopts the same title

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

yes yes yes and yes

he is always behind you, resting your head on top of his. if not he'll be facing upwards, lying on his back, your head will be resting on his shoulder and he'll have his arm wrapped around your waist.

he's definitely 99% always the big spoon

but on the rare occasion he wants to be the little spoon, he has both his arms wrapped around your waist, with his head on your chest, your hand running through his hair while your legs are intertwined absolute bliss

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

hell yeah

he's a sucker for the domestic life, waking up with you in your sub-urban house, a train ride away from the city. making cakes with you in your green painted kitchen which took you way longer than it needed to bc you kept messing around

he can cook, oh my, he buys some cookbooks and you guys spend some time with each other

I feel like he wants kids, some mini him and you running around, if not he'll adopt some

him teaching his kids to play volleyball in the backyard, him brushing their teeth and reading them bedtime stories and them giving them a little kiss goodnight cuteness overload

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

definitely depends on the reason why you're breaking up, but in this scenario, let's say he hasn't been home enough and you guys feel like you're not with each other enough pain

he really dreads having to break up with you, but he knows you deserve more than someone who is barely home. he's not harsh about it, he sits you down at a time when you guys are both free and explains why, "maybe the time isn't right, right now"

even though he broke it off, he still thinks about it quite a lot, he really hopes that you guys will find your way back to each other one day even if he knows that it won't be possible bc right now you're happier with someone else :( i love angst

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

his volleyball career kinda gets in the way of him wanting to commit to you, but he wants to show you that you mean the world to him, so i think he proposes in his mid-late twenties

his proposal isn't really that over the top, but he takes you out first for a fancy dinner with the excuse 'can't i treat you once in a while'. it's quite dark outside and you guys are looking over the city, you turn around to ask him something and you see him down one knee lovely

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he is very gentle... probably bc of his strict upbringing, but he makes sure not to hurt you in any way

he becomes so much more gentle with his words, careful of saying the wrong words because he can't stand the thought of losing you

physically, he tries to make sure not to accidentally knock into you bc this man is so big and if you get ill ushijima is doing anything in his power to get you better, he tries not to get sick in the process, but having you care for him doesn't seem like the worst idea

emotionally, he tries to support you, but he's not the greatest at dealing with emotions, but when supporting you he tries comforting you rather than trying to solve your problems

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

at the beginning of the relationship, i think his hugs are kind of stiff-ish, but once you guys get more comfortable he goes all in

he's such a good hugger. he doesn't do half-hugs, it's all of it or nothing, he engulfs you with his strong arms a little bit too tight but who needs air

if he feels extra clingy back hugs. he loves the feeling of having your figure pressing against his, sometimes his hands grip onto your waist and he'll sway you back and forth while humming to his favourite song

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

as I've mentioned before, you're the first one to say ily in the relationship, but he says it back straight after

i like to think this happens about 5/6 months into the relationship, just when you guys start getting really comfortable around each other

as for using the L-word, he doesn't really say it that often, he believes when something is overused it isn't as special. he only uses it when it needs to be said

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

he doesn't really get jealous easily bc he's kind of oblivious or chooses not to pay attention to it

but when he catches on to whatever's going on, his eyebrows furrow and he'll just give the stare, he'll come near you and put an arm around your waist and slyly try to join the conversation

he knows what he's doing and so does everyone else

the person you're talking to gets a bit intimidated and tries to end the conversation as quickly as possible

you'll try to tease him for his jealously and he'd just change the subject and starts blushing a little, if you try to bring it up later he'd be like 'huh what was that sorry i don't remember'

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

I'm not good with this type of stuff ahh

he's actually pretty good at kissing. he likes soft kisses and little pecks on the shoulder and forehead.

when he's rough or needy, he gets really handsy like hands cupping your cheeks, in your hair, hands pulling your waist in - just very intimate

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

lazy mornings bc who likes being productive all the time

he likes sleeping in on days he has nothing to do, so he’ll be behind you hugging your waist and his head resting on your back, you try to stand up so you can get breakfast done but he pulls you back and says 'come on, just a little more', you know that means another hour but you still get sucked back into his warm embrace

you end up falling asleep and wake up with noises coming from the kitchen. you walk in on him wearing just an apron and his pajama pants, dancing to the radio while making pancakes for breakfast

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

again lazy evening edition bc why not

he comes home early that day, brings home your favourite snacks and asks if you want to watch a movie with him

he grabs a few blankets from your room and you guys decide to watch 13 going on 30 one of my comfort movies

halfway through the movie, he places his head on your laps asking for you to play with his hair, he lies down and you throw some popcorn and skittles in his mouth every few minutes, you tried pouring water but he started choking and spat water all over your shirt

it gets pretty late and cold so he changes you into his hoodie and carries you over to the bedroom. you guys fall asleep to the hums of the city below

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

he's a very reserved person, and i think it's just the way he was raised, talking about feelings wasn't normal in his home growing up

i think with you it takes him some time to open up, he reveals a few things about him and his childhood here and there but nothing major

he doesn't talk about how he feels enough, so it kinda relies on you being able to notice a change in his behaviour which might I say seems extremely hard

i think if you start being more open to him, then he follows on

he gets more comfortable with his emotions around you first and then starts being more open to his team - just give him some time he gets there

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

oh he's so patient, so patient

it takes a LOT to anger him, i don't think you ever have or ever will see this man angry, tbh i don't think you would want to

if you ever lash out at him, he'd sit down and understand where you're coming from, he'd try to calm you down and give you a second to let it all out

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

he remembers everything, literally everything

you mentioned that you liked mangos yesterday, and boom you've got a lifetime supply in your kitchen /s

he keeps a little note in his notes app just making sure he doesn't forget anything, he has your favourite orders, skin/hair care products you use, and little stuff like your favourite show in there

he does this bc he loves how your eyes beam after realising he remembers the little details

R = Remember (What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

this one hc is why this took so long, so I decided not to do bc my brain isn’t responding

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

ushijima isn't the overprotective type although he is protective

he doesn't care what you wear or how you present yourself, as long as you’re comfortable, you will have his full support

if he sees someone making you uncomfortable, he is always quick to jump in and say "you're making them uncomfortable can you please excuse yourself". if he sees a situation is making you feel uneasy he will take you and leave, to calm you down or to clear your mind, which ever one is the best choice in that moment

he doesn't feel the need to be protected, he believes that hes strong enough for the both of you sometimes he needs a little help so pls do step in

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

such a big try hard, he puts so much effort into dates, anniversaries, and even mundane everyday activities.

even far into your relationship he still pulls up at your door with a suit and a flower bouquet which he seems to never forget

he always wants everything to be perfect so you'll never forget

he enjoys surprising you with little gifts to remind you that he still cares. he seems like the type to buy you a promise ring, and oh my is it beautiful

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

this is hard bc in my eyes this man can't do any wrong, but its probably how he can't express his emotions very well

everyone gets in a bad mood once in a while, but for ushijima its different, the stress of volleyball gets to him and he just ends up shutting everyone out, including you. he was never taught how to properly talk abt how he feels so he just holds it in with never intending to let it out

if you try to ask him whats wrong then he just grunts and shrugs it off

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

he isn’t insecure for how he looks physically, he works out and maintains a healthy lifestyle, and he was blessed with that beautiful face of his *chefs' kiss

he's always hygienic (bare minimum), he cuts his hair regularly, keeps his hands nice and clean, with his nails well-trimmed

he likes to keep his appearance up and always looks like he should be on the front cover of a magazine but so effortlessly

bonus: he smells so good, he wears expensive cologne and zooweemama its so tasty, you'll hug him and never want to let go just because

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

he wouldn't necessarily feel incomplete with out you, he'd feel a bit empty

he forgets how much he misses you when he goes abroad for matches and he can't see you for a week straight. he makes sure to send videos and voice notes rather than texts so you can send some back. he video calls everyday, no matter the time difference just so he can see you in real time

if you guys take a break in the relationship, he finds his self drifting back into his stoic shell. he tries his best not to bc he knows how much he loves the person you've helped him become

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

doesn't know how to flirt hehe

he tries to use a smooth pick up line once in a while but they all end up with him in a flustered mess before he can even finish a sentence, i think we should leave the flirting to you

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

liars/dishonest people

he can't stand it when somebody lies to him, its agitating when someone he cares for feels the need to lie to him, it makes him feel like they don't trust him enough

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

he's a quite a light sleeper and wakes up pretty easily. he also looks dead when he sleeps, for example most days he sleeps pretty early bc he's worn out and you come into the bedroom and see him lying down on his back, his chest isn't even moving like it should be, but you'll get into bed with him and his first instinct is to wrap his arms around you and give you a kiss

i think he sleep talks, omg just imagine ushijima whispering about the weirdest things in his dreams. you recorded him once and showed him when he woke up and he got a bit embarrassed and started laughing

here's the hcs for mornings with ushi

this took me so long omg >o< I really hope I portrayed his character well bc he’s such a lovely person

make sure to take care of yourselves :)

reblogs are very much appreciated <3

requests are open

[sadlysoulx]

HAIKYUU SALTY BOi CHARACTERS REACTING TO YOU BEING BADASS TO THEM part 2

(they're you're boyfriend)

⚠️⚠️⚠️: Swear words

Suna

Let's give it up for the salty lazy ass that wants to take over the king of saltiness (aka Tsukki)

Got pissed off by the fact you wanted to hang out when all he wanted to do is laze back on the couch

Because of his unacceptable attitude he got what he deserves from the badass girlfriend/boyfriend of his.

"Rin!" You stomped your feet in annoyance. You embarrassingly looked away from people who stared at you.

Or rather at the person who was laying down on the cold tiled floor of the mall.

Suna was sprawled on the floor, his eyes closed not really caring about how people stared at him. But you are pretty sure he was awake.

The both of you were near the entrance of the mall. A while ago, once the two of you entered, Suna decided to be childish and lay down on the tiled-floor.

Considering the location you were currently in, the bodyguard standing by the Mall's sliding doors constantly looks at Suna, probably considering if he should kick him out.

"Rin~" you whined, bending down to pick up his arm about to pull him up but he slapped your hand away. "Why are you like this?!"

"I was fine. . ." He mumbled, not opening his eyes. "I was fine laying on my bed scrolling through tiktok, and then here I am. . ." His tone was sharp it send shivers down your spine. "Walking around the fucking mall,"

The people, that have gathered around to see what is happening, flinched at his choice of words. You wished he would stop this unacceptable attitude of his. But you knew he wouldn't stop.

Suna sassy mode: on

Suna opened his eyes staring at the clean ceiling of the mall. "What are we even going to do here? You are broke, remember that, you can't go shopping with that empty wallet of yours,"

Your blood boiled. The people around the both of you stared at your small figure, wanting to see what would you do next.

"Or Maybe. . ." Suna mumbled but loud enough for all to hear. Your heart dropped. He won't stop until he get what he wants.

To embarrass you and to teach you a lesson.

A kind boyfriend he is, isn't he?

"Maybe you wanted to go around and flirt with other guys. So that maybe you can make me jealous and so that I can fuc—"

You laughed. You laughed before he can finish that sentence. He was desperate to leave the mall so he spat venomous words at you without knowing. Being the considerate partner you are, you tried to brush it off whenever this happens. But not this time.

Y/n badass mode: on

You stopped laughing and you looked around to see people looking at you in amusement.

"Is my baby Suna upset?" You spat his name with so much venom, it made Suna sit up, propping himself with his elbows. His face remained neutral but just because you know to yourself that you haven't went full on badass.

"What the heck Y/n—"

"Oh here we are! The prince of saltiness running out of comebacks and insults," You clapped and tuned to the other people, making them awkwardly clap with you.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You looked down at Suna.

"Well, why does it look like to you?"

Suna remained silent.

"I just wanted to go home," he mumbled.

You stare at him before saying, "You should have asked nicely," You sighed, placing you hands on you hips.

"We can go now?" Suna looked up with you with a slight hope.

You hummed and tapped and your chin, pretending as if you were thinking about it. In your peripheral vision, you saw Suna slumped back knowing you aren't done yet.

"How about no?" People around you stared at you with shock along with Suna.

"I only give those deserving stuff to deserving people," you smiled, batting your lashes at him. Suna awkwardly shifted on the ground, you knew he doesn't like getting unwanted attention. But he started this, so you're gonna finish it.

"And you know what you deserve?" You asked slowly and he shook his head in the same manner, fear slightly glinting in his eyes.

You reached in your bag, pulling out a water bottle. You twisted it open and immediately dumped the water in Suna's head. People around you watch in shock, mouth agape open. Gasps filling the tense atmosphere.

Suna had his head hung low, his hair damped wildly and obnoxious amounts of water drops dripped into his shirt damping it. He slowly look up, glaring at you.

People started to laugh.

"Fuck you,"

"I'm sorry baby but I'm going to ban it for a month,"

His eyes widen as people's laugh started to become louder.

"Wait— Y/n. . . Baby. . ."

You bend down to him, staring at his once lazy eyes but now we're laced with embarrassment and anger.

"I'm sorry," you stood up and spun the keys of Suna's car around your pointer finger.

"Wait that's mine—"

"Borrowing it," you simply said as people widely smiled at your badass side.

"Hey—" you started to walk away. "How will I get home?!"

"That's your problem!" You called out, walking out the the exit of the mall. You turned to see Suna trying to stand out but ended up slipping at the watery mess. As of sensing your gaze, he looked up and then glared at you.

You know you're so dead.

You know he might "punish" you.

But you didn't care, now that you've made him learn a lesson.

You laughed to yourself as you drive away.

Not knowing Suna is going to make it a long night.

[foryouthem00n]

SFW Alphabet - Elliot Stabler

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Elliot is very affectionate when it’s just the two of you. He loves to cuddle and kiss you and feel your body. Elliot loves any kind of physical touch. He’s a bit restrained when it comes to other people being around though. He’ll hug you or give you a quick kiss on the lips or forehead but he’d rather keep the displays of affection private.

B = Beginning (How would the relationship start?)

You and Elliot would meet at a bar late at night after his shift. He was having a really bad day; no leads on a brutal rape case, working all day and night, not being able to sleep, and not being allowed to see his kids as they were with his ex, Kathy. You were having some drinks with a friend on your night off. After your friend left, you watched as Elliot chugged beer after beer. He noticed you sitting alone, empty glass sitting in front of you on the bar top. Due to the alcohol, he had the confidence to strike up a conversation with you (which he normally wouldn’t do when sober), offering to buy you a drink. You took up his offer and sat at the bar and drank and talked with him for hours after that, realizing just how good the two of you were getting on.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Elliot loves to cuddle. It’s one of his favorite things to do after a long, hard day. Elliot enjoys the intimacy and closeness that comes with cuddling. He loves holding you close to him in any way that he can. As long as he can feel your skin on his, he’s more than happy.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Elliot is scared of settling down again since things didn’t go so well the first time. However, because of settling down the first time, he is an expert at cooking and cleaning. He has five kids to take care of, so he knows what needs to be done around the house to keep his family healthy and happy. While he doesn’t always have time to do things like laundry or dishes, he makes sure that everyone always has what they need.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Elliot had to break up with you, it’d be in person, no question about it. There’s no way that Elliot would even think to try to break up with you over the phone. He didn’t want to break up with you, but his life was just becoming too hectic and negative and he just couldn’t keep you around for it all. He felt as though he couldn’t give you what you deserved. It broke him inside to have to let you go.

F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? Do they want to get married?)

Elliot is apprehensive about getting married. While he is very committed to you, he’s worried about what would happen if he got married again. He wasn’t at all expecting to get divorced from Kathy, so thinking about the possibility of that happening once more scares him. He doesn’t want to put himself or his kids through something like that again.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

While Elliot is a big bad cop and all, he’s almost always super gentle when it comes to you. He never wants to push or break any boundaries, even if you say it’s okay. Although, sometimes if he’s overly stressed or tired, or has just had a bad day, sometimes he’ll accidentally snap or yell at you. He immediately feels bad about it afterwards and apologizes so many times, even when you tell him that it’s okay and that you understand why he did it.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they hug? What are their hugs like?)

Elliot loves hugs. While he only hugs certain people, those certain people get hugged all the time. Elliot gives big, long bear hugs. He just needs to feel the closeness of someone, the comfort of holding someone or being held. His hugs are warm and tight in the best way possible. If you’re lucky enough to be hugged by Elliot, it’ll be the best hug you’ve ever had.

I = I love you (How long does it take for them to say the L word? How do they say it?)

It takes Elliot quite a while to say I love you, but only because he wants to make sure that he really means it. He doesn’t want to end up getting into another failed relationship. When he finally does say it, it’s late at night after Elliot gets home from work. He’s had a particularly hard day, and you let him vent to you. He ends up getting emotional from stress and lack of sleep, and he breaks down. He sobs into your chest as you hold him. “I’m just so lucky to have you here with me when I need you... I.. I love you.”

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they get jealous?)

Elliot gets jealous, but not too jealous. He doesn’t usually have a reason to be jealous, because he knows what’s his and he’s confident in that. If anything, he gets jealous because he knows what people can be like and he doesn’t want them around those who he loves and cares about. When he gets jealous, he usually keeps it to himself. He bites his tongue, because he knows that if he doesn’t, he’ll probably do or say things that he’ll regret later.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Elliot loves kissing you. It may be cliche, but his favorite place to kiss you is your lips. He can look right into your eyes, smile, and be as close to you as he can, your lips moving in sync with his. Elliot’s kisses are gentle yet rough at the same time. If he’s in a hurry to leave, Elliot will kiss your hair or your temple. He hates leaving without kissing you. When it comes to Elliot’s preferences, he loves being kissed on his neck and chest. It’s so comforting to him. He just melts into your touch.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Elliot is amazing with kids. Having five of his own, he definitely knows the ins and outs of what to do and not do. While he’s extremely overprotective of his kids (and even children who aren’t biologically his), it’s only because he loves them and wants to keep them from the horrible things that he sees every day on the job. Children that he meets through SVU trust and open up to him very easily.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Elliot are always unpredictable. Some days, you wake up in bed by yourself. Other days, you have long, sleepy cuddle sessions until one of you decides that it’s time to eat breakfast. On occasion, the house is full with Elliot’s kids, sitting at the table waiting for their breakfast. Elliot stands in the kitchen in his robe, cooking food for everyone, his coffee never far away from him. Elliot isn’t a morning person, but he makes the most of every morning because he feels he has to.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Elliot are unpredictable, just like mornings are. Sometimes you’re home alone all night, not seeing Elliot until the early morning. Other times, the two of you are cuddled up on the couch, eating takeout and catching up on each other’s days. If it’s been a particularly bad day for Elliot, you make him dinner and you massage his shoulders and his back and give him all of the attention that he wants or needs. Some nights, all Elliot wants to do is have sex. It doesn’t happen as often as he’d like since he’s almost never home. What Elliot does once he’s home at night is always up to him.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal things all at once or wait a while and reveal them more slowly?)

Elliot would reveal the more obvious details of his life right away, and then slowly start to share more of the private stuff later on. He’d make it known that he’s divorced, has five children, is an SVU detective, etc, but the details delving into those things would take longer for Elliot to share. Elliot would rather be open without being too open when it comes to people he’s still getting to know.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It doesn’t take much for Elliot to get angry, especially when it comes to his job. He just gets so worked up so fast, and he can’t control it. Often times when Elliot is angry, he’s passive aggressive as well. When he really wants to, he can be patient, but he absolutely hates it. He can’t stand waiting. Elliot tries so hard to be calm and patient when it comes to you or the kids, though. He ends up feeling horrible if he accidentally lashes out at any of you.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you?)

Surprisingly enough, Elliot remembers a lot more about you than you’d think. He’s a great listener, but you’d expect him to forget about a lot of things because of how much he learns about and absorbs from his job. You’ll be having a conversation with Elliot and he’ll chime in randomly with a “oh, like when you...” or a “remember that time...” Your eyes light up when you realize how much he actually remembers.

R = Remember (What is their favorite memory of your relationship?)

Elliot’s favorite memory of your relationship is when he realized that he was in love with you. After his divorce, he didn’t know if he could love anyone else again. He was so scared that he’d end up being alone for the rest of his life. But that night, when Elliot couldn’t hold himself together anymore, you were right there by his side. You listened to him and you let him vent and cry and you held him and comforted him when he was at such a low point in his life. At that moment, he knew that he was capable of loving again. The hope and love that that moment gave him alone is what makes it his favorite memory of your relationship.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

Elliot is extremely protective. He doesn’t want to even think about the things that could happen to you or his kids if he doesn’t keep an eye out. He knows how horrible and disgusting people can be, so he wants to keep you and the kids away from that as much as possible. Elliot calls you multiple times a day to check up on you and make sure that you’re safe and doing okay. Whenever he goes anywhere, he always has his gun on him in case it’s needed. Elliot will go to any lengths to make sure you and his kids are safe and protected.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

When Elliot does something, he always puts his all into it. It doesn’t matter what it is, he will never settle for the bare minimum. That’s just who Elliot is as a person. While he doesn’t always have the time to do big, special things for you or the kids, he’ll make the time to make it big and special because he knows how important it is. He loves seeing the ones he loves happy.

U = Ugly (What are some of their bad habits?)

Besides his occasional anger issues, Elliot tends to drink a little too much when he’s stressed or in a negative situation. He’s not good at dealing with his emotions, and to him, it’s just easier to turn to alcohol to help him instead. Not to mention, Elliot may or may not be a coffee addict. But who isn’t, right? What else is going to help him cope with the lack of sleep?

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Elliot wants to look decent and presentable, but he’s not all that worried about his looks. When it comes to work, obviously he’s going to put some effort into his appearance with dress shirts and trousers, and the occasional jacket, but besides that, he couldn’t care less. However, if it’s a super special occasion, Elliot will go all out in a suit and tie.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Elliot would definitely notice if you were gone. He’d try his hardest to forget about it, but every now and then he’d be reminded of you or he’d think about you randomly. Elliot would never tell anyone, but he’d be really struggling without you. He wouldn’t realize just how much you mean to him until you’re gone.

X = Xtra (A random head canon of them)

As much as it doesn’t seem like it, Elliot takes his health very seriously. He’s very conscious of what goes on in his mind and body and is the first one to go to the doctor’s when he thinks something is wrong. Not to mention, Elliot is always working on his body. He’ll go on mile long runs in the morning or afternoon when he’s not working, or he’ll lift weights or do a bunch of push and pull ups when he’s got some free time at home. He loves working out, it helps him clear his mind.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like in a partner or in general?)

Elliot wouldn’t want anything to do with anyone who doesn’t respect him or his family. Everything he does is for him and his family. Nothing else matters. If anyone were to question or doubt that, Elliot would already be sending them on their way out of his life. No one fucks with Elliot and his family.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Elliot snores SO BAD. It doesn’t matter whether he’s alone or with you or with literally anyone else, his snores will definitely be heard by everyone. Elliot is always so overly tired that once he’s asleep, he’s out cold. It gets so bad that sometimes you have to go sleep on the couch or in one of the other bedrooms. And of course, Elliot completely denies it. “I don’t snore that loud!”

[soggy-platee]

Doubt

Rating: M

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Summary: You get hurt doing something stupid, Din has to confront his feelings for you.

Crossposted on ao3 here!

This was bad. Like, bad bad. You had gotten into fights before, of course, been roughed up more times than you could count. But previously, you had always been able to make it back to the Crest and hide the evidence before Mando got back. This time, however, you weren’t even sure if you would make it back to the Crest alone, much less heal yourself.

Tatooine, of all places, was where you were currently limping through, Mos Eisley to be more exact. Mando had stopped for repairs and you had made the usual excuse to get yourself out of mechanic-assistant duty, yelling something about supplies over your shoulder before hustling to the nearest cantina. Mando and you had been on countless missions over the years, sometimes staying and working together for months at a time. This current run was one of the longer ones, being on your third month-long job with the Mandalorian. Honestly, you had no idea why the hell he kept working with you. You were his total and utter opposite. All talkative and friendly, and a total ass most of the time. Your skills didn’t exactly make up for your personality either, you were a half-decent hunter at best. You liked to think it was because you always filled the silence of the old ass ship he insisted on using.

You had a feeling that if he found out the stupid shit you were always getting into, it might be your last time with him. It was some fucking dumb wager you made, betting on a brawl you knew nothing about. Somehow you won, and that seemed to piss a lot of people off. You had managed to fight most of them off, everyone underestimated you at first because of your small stature. But that element of surprise only lasts so long, and there were just too many of them this time. A slash to your thigh with a rusty knife took you to one knee before a first connected with your temple, sending you sprawling on the dusty floor. After that, it had been a flurry of hits and kicks before the owner chased them off. You had lain there for a while, trying to regain some sense of up and down through your obvious concussion. When you finally lifted yourself to your knees, the only thing that was clear in your mind was the idea of Mando seeing you like this, realizing how reckless and useless you really were. That’s why you were so desperate to get back and cover the evidence. As much as you hated to admit it, you liked working with him, loved it really. It had nothing to do with the little crush you had been harboring on the metal man, you often told yourself.

The port coming into view shook you from your thoughts. No sign of the Mandalorian yet. You tried to hurry, but the deep cut on your thigh stung in protest. You tried to walk as smoothly as possible, the last thing you needed was some other low-life on this dump planet to try to rob you in your weakened state. The high walls of the building loomed over you, casting you in shadow as you moved through the entrance. You moved as silently as you could, listening for the slightest movement to indicate the presence of your partner. The place was silent besides the small tinkering of the pit droids in some corner. You grimaced to yourself, at least this was working out for you .

You limped up the ramp into the dark hold. Making your way to your bunk, you fumbled around in the darkness for your own little stash of medical supplies. You only ever took from your personal stuff; the last thing you needed was being caught because Mando noticed his shit was missing. He had enough of his own wounds to worry about. You precariously gathered all your things into one hand, the other holding your upright. A bacta shot slipped, clinking loudly on the floor as a wave of dizziness came over you. Your hand immediately shot to the wound on your thigh.

Fuck , that was way more blood than you thought. You dipped down to grab the shot, the same dizziness doubling with the movement. Finally, after a few seconds of fumbling, your bloody hand found the cold tube. At the same time your fingers closed around the object, the cockpit door slide open with a metallic hiss. Your head shot up to the sound only to find the large outline of Mando hovering over you in the doorway. He was silent as were you, caught in a contest in the near-darkness of the hold. You swallowed hard. He was usually quiet, but this time, you could feel the anger radiating off him in waves.

Finally, he moved, hitting the first rung and the second before leaping down with a resounding thud . The moment he landed you shot up as fast as your injured state could allow. You both rose straight in tandem. He was directly in front of you, making your height difference more than noticeable. It made you feel even worse, even more, insignificant compared to the warrior in front of you. It was still too dark to make out his features, or lack thereof, but you could hear the creak of his leather gloves as his gloves clenched and unclenched.

Holy shit, he was pissed.

Your mind was racing, maybe you could still get out of this. Apologize like crazy, get out of his sight before he could realize just how bad you had fucked up, how hurt you were. You just hoped to God that he wasn’t using any special settings in his helmet to see you in the dark.

Finally, the damn broke.

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?”

Your brain went into overdrive, getting ready every half-assed excuse you could. Before you could get a word out, he trampled over you nearly shouting, “You were gone for an hour , and now the whole fucking town is talking about the brawl that you were at the center of? Over a fucking bet ? How reckless can you -”

Your anger grew as he grew louder, words getting harsher. Who the hell did he think he was? Yeah, yeah you fucked up, but he wasn’t your fucking dad. W hy did he get a say in what you did anyway?

“Sorry, we can’t all be as fucking upstanding as you, okay? I was blowing off a little steam, Jesus , it’s not that big of a deal…”

You could hear his surprised grunt under your tirade, actually physically moving away an inch at your verble assault. He recovered quickly though, leaning back toward you, leaving only inches between you as he growled, “ Not a big deal ? You know what kind of people are on this fucking planet, how much trouble you could get into?”

You paused, confused. Wait, was he mad at you because you got into trouble or because you could get into more?

Your pause made him continue, lecturing you firmly about how reckless and stupid your actions were. You just took it, hoping he would give up soon and leave you alone. He would have to quit soon if there was any hope of still hiding your injuries from him, you were growing fainter by the second, all previous anger seeping out along with your strength. The blood from your leg had to be pooling onto the floor by now.

There was a break in his speech, so you interjected in a feeble attempt to end the conversation. “ I’m sorry... I get it. I was wrong.” you practically whispered.

“You’re sorry ? I don’t-”

Suddenly, the ship was filled with an overwhelming light. You lifted a hand to shield your eyes, shoulders hunching as the light hit your face. Mando spun in comparison, stance low as he searched for an assault. After a moment, you both realized that the floodlights of the hanger had come on, compensating for the now-low light of sunset outside. In the same second, you realized what Mando would turn to see. You tried to hide, pulling your injured thigh as far back as you could without falling over. But it was no fucking use, bruises smattered your face and arm, dried blood leaving a trail from your brow-

He turned, freezing once his visor met your pained expression. He stood still for a moment and you started with your excuse, “Listen, it’s not as bad as it looks. I can do it myself if you just-”

He was on you a second, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you back to sit on the lip of your bunk. You were shocked as you were sat down, he hardly ever touched you, let alone with the firmness and caring that he was using now. His hands moved to cup your face, turning it back and forth, taking in the damage. You braced for a lashing.

Instead, his voice was deadly low when he asked, “Who did this?”

You jerked in his grip, “What?”

He gripped your face tighter, thumb brushing over your cheek before repeating, “ Who did this ? Just give me a name and they’re fucking dead.”

Your dumbfounded expression was reflected in his visor. Wasn’t he just mad at you?

“I’m- I’m sorry. I shouldn't have reacted like that. I didn’t know you were...hurt.”

Whoops, you didn’t mean to say that out loud.

His hands probed their way from your temples down your body, noting every bruise and mark. Finally, he reached the cut on your leg, hissing through his modulator as he felt the sticky fabric around the opening.

He sighed your name as he took in the extent of the damage, “God this is- Why didn’t you tell me ?”

You shifted nervously on your bunk, you couldn’t tell him the truth. It was lame, it was weird . It would freak him out, how much you wanted to stay with him.

I’m so desperate to stay with you I’d rather bleed out than tell you I fucked up.

Yeah, that would go over well.

So you simply acted aloof, hoping to God that he would buy it. As he continued to inspect you leg, you plastered a fake grin on your face and spoke down to him, “Come on Mando, you don’t think that I can handle some cuts myself?

His helmet shot up to your face so fast your expression faltered, giving way to wide eyes and parted lips. He seemed pleased with himself at breaking your facade, grunting in approval as he returned his attention downward.

The both of you were silent as he dug his hand through the medical supplies you had retrieved initially. He started at the cut, snipping away the fabric with careful precision. You had a death grip on his shoulder while he cleaned and cauterized the ugly thing. He kept checking with you, breaking every few minutes with “Are you okay?” , “You’re doing great” , and “Almost done, just hang on.”

What the hell did you do to deserve this, all his devastating kindness?

When he moved to the cuts on your head, you were totally unable to keep your face neutral. Your eyes were saucers, desperately trying to burn this image into your memory. His soft gloves brushing your hair away, helmet titled in concentration. As he cleaned the various areas, one hand soon came to rest on your hip lightly, helping him maintain his crouched position. You couldn’t help the soft smile that overtook your features. You doubted he even knew what he was doing, doubt he knew just what the hand was doing to you.

The pain was getting to you now. Through the bliss of Mando’s hands on you and the numbness of the blood loss, each breath shot stabbing pains through your body. You tried your best to be quiet, accept his treatment without any fuss, but as he reached on a particularly bad cut just above your brow, a whimper of pain slipped from your pursed lips. He pulled back instantly, visor pointing to your eyes. You gave him a tight smile in return, grunting, “I’m good. Keep going.”

He sighed, weighing your words, then slowly returned to his task. God, it felt like molten lava on you, every brush of the cloth made you impossibly tense. No doubt Mando felt you tighten under his grip as he spoke, “What can I do?”

You didn’t even think before you responded through clenched teeth, “ Just talk ...please.”

To his credit, he didn’t laugh at your request. Didn’t even hesitate in fact. He just started talking, to your amazement.

“You know, I was fucking pissed when I was in town and heard you had gotten into that fight... God , I was fucking angry with you…”

You winced at his words, even though you knew the sentiment was well deserved.

“But then I was scared. You could’ve...I was scared you were hurt. I started toward the cantina to find you before, before-I just kept picturing you hurt and it scared the shit out of me.”

You didn’t know what to say, silence falling over the hull once more as you fell short. He had to be kidding, just something to keep you occupied.

You knew that was wrong, as his hand had fallen from your face long ago. It wasn’t a distraction, it was a confession. You should be overjoyed, it was absolutely everything you ever wanted to hear from him. So why weren’t you?

Your brain couldn’t process why, so your mouth took charge, words tumbling from your mouth in a desperate attempt to understand.

“But I didn’t-that was all my fault . I was stupid, reckless , you said it yourself. You shouldn’t- I don’t want you worrying about me over that shit. I fucked up, I fucked up big and -”

He cut you off with a squeeze of your hip, skating his helmet back and forth to your confusion.

“I was just scared and I took it out on you...I’m sorry for that. I don’t like that you think that way. I don’t want- ” he took a breath, collecting himself by ducking his helmet down before returning to face you.

“What I am trying to say is that I don’t care what you did, I just want you safe.”

Tears pooled in the corner of your eyes, all the stress of the say leaving you all at once as you sagged forward, head dropping. You were overwhelmed, but happy. So fucking happy. Everything had just fallen into place and you just couldn’t hold it in.

Mando, unfortunately, took your actions to be ones of injury, as he quickly moved one hand to your jaw, fingers wrapping around your chin tightly forcing you to face him. A tear fell off your nose onto his glove, making a pleasant plopping noise.

He spoke hurriedly, “Hey-hey look at me. What is it? Something hurt?”

You grinned in his grip and grabbed him by his ammo sling. Pulling him close, you leaned forward and rested your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet as he let out a grunt of surprise.

You were both silent for a moment, breathing in tandem before his hand left your chin and came to rest in your hair.

“Not hurt, then?” he guesses. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“No, not hurt.” you choke out around your tears.

Another beat of silence, then, “Wanna tell me why you’re crying?”

You let out a quick laugh at his tone, it was interesting to hear the Mandalorian so hesitant.

You sighed, then said, “I was so worried when I got back here. I thought that, if you saw what I got myself into, you- well, that you wouldn’t... want me anymore.”

His hand gripped tighter in your hair, pressing his helmet more firmly into you. “ Nothing could make that happen. You hear me? Nothing .”

You brought your hand to his still on your hip, gripping it softly. “ I hear you .”

[thatweeboverthereisthirsty]

Kalim x Jamil: Not Just Lust

So um... I made this but I’m not even sure what it is. So like enjoy or don’t lol!

Warnings: NSFW

Words: 2,223

   “Jamil? What are you doing here?” Kalim sat up in surprise and furrowed his brow in confusion. The brunet hesitated in the doorway before shutting and locking the door behind him. He walked over to the bedside and hesitated again. 

   This felt… wrong. Weird. Out of place. Quite a few things had felt that way since his overblot about a week ago. But, nothing felt like this. Those big crimson eyes staring up at him with concern and confusion instead of untamed excitement and lov-, no lust. Lust. Jamil repeated the word to himself like he did all the time hoping it would stick. It never did.

   “Jamil? Are you alright?” Jamil didn’t respond, instead he put his magic pen on the bedside table and carefully began to pull the elastic and feather accessory out of his hair. 

   “What are you doing?” Kalim sat up straighter on his bed and shifted into a kneeling position. His eyes widened when Jamil pulled his hoodie and tank top off all in one go, letting the discarded garments fall to the floor. 

   Distracted, the young air let his next question die on his lips, as his eyes traced the curves and dips on his ‘friend’s’ torso. Unconsciously his pupils dilated slightly and his breathing increased. However when he saw Jamil reach for the button of his pants, Kalim frowned again and held up a hand.

   “Wait.” Jamil looked up with an emotionless expression. Kalim shifted nervously and opened and closed his mouth a few times as he struggled to find the words he was searching for. 

   “Jamil, why are you undressing?” The brunet feigned surprise at this and watched as Kalim’s expression changed when he spoke.

   “It’s Friday night, Kalim. I always assist you in your pleasure during the weekend.” Kalim’s face slid into an expression of horror and realization. 

   Of course Jamil had thought they were only intimate for his sake. It made sense. It didn’t matter what Kalim asked of him, Jamil would be forced to participate and act like he enjoyed it. It never occurred to him that Jamil wouldn’t feel the same way about their relationship. And after all that happened during break, he wasn’t surprised to find that Jamil didn’t care about him like he cared about Jamil. Still, a small part of him had hoped that Jamil at least hadn’t hated their intimate sessions. 

   “Oh… Well we don’t have to do those things anymore…” 

   “Kalim. We may be equals, but it’s still my job to serve you.” Jamil’s voice was void of emotion as he crawled across the bed to reach the heir. Despite his lack of visible feelings he felt waves of pain crash through him at the idea of not being able to do this one thing.

   He had hated serving the Asim family. He still did and likely always would, but he never truly hated Kalim. The idiot annoyed him to no end, sure, But he had always been kind in a way that the other Asims weren’t. A kindness he had taken for granted. 

   He never meant to overblot or lose his cool. He had never meant to say all of that stuff to Kalim. Jamil didn’t hate Kalim. He hated that his life stuck him in a cage. It wasn’t Kalim’s fault though. Yet, he had taken out all of his frustrations and anger on him. And quite possibly lost him forever. It was clear that Kalim could never love him back, but at the very least, in the throes of pleasure, he could pretend. Pretend that the “I love you’s” were actually for him and not his body.

   “No.” Surprised, Jamil fell back on the bed when Kalim suddenly jumped out of it.

   “I refuse to participate in that kind of stuff with someone who doesn’t care about me. I thought… I thought that this was consensual. I thought it was…” He looked for the correct word. “Requited.”

   Jamil froze and stared at the white haired boy. Did he just say requited? As in, feelings requited. Was he delusional? Kalim could never care that way about the man who had lied to him, deceived him, and betrayed him. 

   “Kalim. When you say requited-” 

   “I LOVE YOU! And I thought that you loved me back, but you don’t! You’ve made it clear that you hate me, and now I know that you were only with me because you were serving me, not because you felt the same!” Kalim was out of breath and flushed with embarrassment. 

   “I’m sorry ok. I know that you’ll hate me more now, but-” Jamil cut him off by lunging forwards and kissing him. Kalim immediately sank into the kiss on instinct, allowing Jamil to put an arm around his waist and wind his other hand into Kalim’s hair. 

   Jamil had never initiated anything between them before, thinking it was just him serving his master. Because of this he had never taken any lead. As a servant it was his job to be beneath his master. Not the other way around. This time, however, the brunet quickly overpowered Kalim and took the lead. The two teens pulled away for air and Kalim’s confused eyes searched Jamil’s. 

   “Never hated you.” He said between kisses. “Love you”. Kalim gasped in surprise at those words and Jamil swallowed his lips again, slipping his tongue into the younger’s mouth. 

   Kalim felt his control slipping and decided that if they had to talk it could be done later. For now he pulled himself closer to Jamil and eagerly responded to every kiss. 

   Breathlessly, Jamil lowered his lips to the sensitive skin on Kalim’s neck. He had never allowed himself to mark up that beautiful skin before, but now he couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of a few purple bruises decorating the tan skin. 

   They were equals now. Jamil could be in charge. He could take the lead. It was all he had ever wanted. Now he wanted one more thing though. To make Kalim his. To make the heir that had depended on him for so long, moan his name, cling to his body, respond to Jamil’s touch and his touch alone. He wanted to do so much with Kalim that it threatened to spill out of his eyes in tears. The need to have sex was nearly overpowered by the need to simply hold Kalim close and whisper “I love you” into his coconut scented hair. 

   Later, he told himself. Right now he would show Kalim that he loved him. He needed to show himself that he could be allowed to love him. The fear that his love would crumble away in his arms pushed at the edges of his mind. Then as if by magic it was chased away when Kalim threw his arms around him and pulled him closer.

   “Jamil… hah, ngh… lov-love you too.” 

   Jamil left Kalim’s neck and kissed him on the mouth again. The kiss was slower and gentle, yet passionate and pleased. It was a silent way to speak. They let their lips explain their emotions and held each other tightly as they felt their walls come down. 

   It soon turned into a more fierce kiss as Jamil tugged Kalim flush against him and began to slip his fingers underneath his nightshirt. The smaller teen gasped when he felt cool fingertips skim the edges of his hips. Jamil partially opened his eyes to watch Kalim flush and moan when he smoothed a hand over his torso and up to his chest. 

   They pulled away for a moment, staring at each other with intensity like they never had before. Then as if on a silent command, Jamil quickly stripped Kalim of his top and the younger turned, falling back onto the bed. He scooted backwards and watched Jamil as he crawled over and on top of him.

   Kalim smiled softly and pulled Jamil into another heated kiss. It didn’t last long though as the brunet pulled away to inch his lips down and latch onto Kalim’s neck. He stared up through dark lashes at the boy who was slowly becoming messier with everything he did.

   Rolling a perky nipple between his forefinger and thumb, Jamil pulled up to watch as Kalim cried out and arched his back. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and moans echoed from behind red, bitten lips.

   It was a sight Jamil engraved into his mind and promised himself he would see again. It ignited something hot deep within him and he felt himself stiffen and rise. He let out a shaky breath and pressed his hips down against Kalim’s. The white haired boy beneath him immediately bucked upwards in response, adding delicious friction between them. 

   Still it wasn’t enough as Jamil scooted back to give himself room to pull down the night pants his new lover wore. He quickly slipped out of his own constricting clothing and watched as Kalim’s eyes widened with lust and amazement as they usually did when Jamil first revealed his manhood. 

   Reaching for the lube, the brunet pressed a quick kiss to Kalim’s lips. 

   “Jamil. I-I want…” Jamil looked down at the teen and raised an eyebrow. “I want you in me this time.” Kalim finally gasped out in embarrassment.

   Jamil froze in shock. He had been taking the lead, but Kalim always topped. It was just part of the system. He stopped and thought about it for a moment, taking note of how Kalim never was very good at leading these late night sessions. And now that he was free, technically it was perfectly ok for him to be the top.

   Besides, Kalim split open on his cock, pretty hole clenching around him, crying out, begging for more filled Jamil with an intense desire that he didn’t know he had. 

   Licking his lips, Jamil poured a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and rubbed his hands together to warm the slippery fluid. He hesitated before prompting Kalim to spread his legs, giving him a perfect view of his tight hole. 

   Slipping his fingers down, Viper ran a finger around the rim before leaning over and kissing Kalim deeply. The smaller teen moaned into the kiss as he felt a finger breach his entrance and rub delightfully against his walls. 

   Jamil licked greedily at Kalims mouth and pushed another finger in. 

   He swallowed every noise Kalim made as he pumped his fingers in and out of his hole. Soon there was space for another and he slipped it in beside the first two, relishing the jerk that came from the teen beneath him. 

   “Jami- J-jamil, I- I’m… MMngh, more-” Kalim broke the kiss and let out a pleading gasp. 

   “Are you sure Kalim? We’ve never done this before. Maybe we should wait-”

   “NO! I need it now!” The white haired boy desperately humped up into Jamil’s waist and shifted downwards in need. “Please, please, please, Jami. Fill me please. I need you. Need it so baaANGH!” 

   His begging was cut off by a sharp cry as Jamil gave in to his desires and filled him in one powerful thrust. 

   The brunet shook with the amount of effort it was taking not to just jackhammer that pretty hole. Instead he waited and watched in amazement and hunger as Kalim sprayed cum all over himself. 

   Kalim’s orgasm was silent and intense in a way it never had been before. His body went limp as he rode through his pleasure and he let out a breathy moan. 

   Jamil’s pupils blew wide as they examined his former master, completely wrecked, painted in his own spend, spread out, limp beneath him. The desire to claim, overpower, to dominate shot through him and he softly whispered Kalim’s name. 

   Those beautiful crimson eyes fluttered semi-open and locked with hungry silver ones. 

   “Gorgeous.” Mine

   “I’m sorry.” was all Jamil could say as he felt the last of his control slip through his fingers. His hands found Kalim’s legs and forced them wide, so he could ram into the beautiful body displayed before him.

   Kalim cried out and moaned when he felt Jamil start to pound into him. Overstimulation crept into his mind and fought with his exhaustion as pure arousal eventually claimed the stage. Coherent thought was lost as Jamil hit his spot every time he thrust inwards. 

   Jamil felt the heat low in his belly twist a few more times and knew that his climax was quickly approaching. 

   “Kalim.” There was no response from the boy, only the same noises of pleasure greeted Jamil’s call. 

   He grunted and slammed his hips against Kalim’s a few more times before he grasped the younger teens chin and directed him into a particularly sloppy kiss. His hips stuttered when he felt himself release and intense ecstasy flowed through him. 

   Distantly he registered Kalim cumming again, and crying out something that sounded suspiciously close to “Jamil”. 

   The brunet flopped down next to his partner and laid against him as they sank out of their highs. Eventually he turned and used one of the pillows to wipe access drool and spend from Kalim’s face. The white haired boy smiled loopily and pressed his face into Jamil’s chest.

   They would talk later. For now all that was required of them was to lay peacefully in each other's arms.

[oh-boy-me]

Theory Anon here! I’m a little late but hehe only by a day.

So I was redoing the lessons all the way to 42 or 44 where I am. I have noticed that between the 7 brothers, Belphie and Lucifer are the ones (who majority) have tried or was an inch away from killing us. Because if you think about it Beel didn’t threat us or anything, he just broke our wall to the room, mammon been ‘trying’ to keep us safe, Satan just been really angry, Asmo only tried to romance us, and Levi just like spewed threats. Like is there a percentage of a reason other than ‘Lucifer is just trying to protect a foreign person from his brothers’ or ‘Belphie has been spewing in his anger of his sister since forever’. Because it seems like it’s just there

Hi theory anon! I was late by a week so no worries

That's a very interesting question! Like you said, there are varying degrees of how much they tried to kill you in Season 1. If I remember correctly (season 1 spoilers!!):

Lucifer threatens you at various points, and he directly gets close to killing you twice I believe? Once during Beel's arc and once right before Belphie comes back.

Mammon never directly tries to kill you. Any situation where he endangered you was more him not thinking things through.

Levi DOES try to kill you after you pull your trump card in the TSL quiz, but never again after that.

Satan threatens to kill you when you refuse to make a pact with him, but I think he directs that anger towards Lucifer before he actually lashes out.

Asmo has never tried to kill you. The worst he did was be disappointed that you were still alive (because it was boring).

Beel never tries to kill you, but he did endanger you a few times. That was more you being in the vicinity when he went on a rampage tho, and nothing personal.

Belphie is pretty self explanatory, he tried to kill you twice and actually succeeded one of those times

Both times Lucifer tries to kill you, it seems to be more because you went behind his back than from any desire to protect anything that isn't his sense of authority? You hid Luke and "let" him into the crypt (? I forget what it's called lol), and you went upstairs and conspired with Belphie. I think you can put his reasoning in with Levi's and Satan's, he got REALLY mad both times, and since he was usually the one stopping others, when it was him there it felt like there was no one to stop him.

Belphie's is straight up premeditated, so.

My sister pointed out too, that Satan isn't present for a lot of Season 1, so he kind of never had the time to kill you. If he was more present, it probably would have been more of a problem.

With that, it's also possible that the only reason they seem "more likely" to kill you is because they were the last two to make a pact with you. So they have more time to do stuff like kill you without violating a pact.

So yeah, it might just amount to how easily angered they are and how often you were around them pre-pact? That's my conclusion, at least.

[jasontoddiefor]

Summary: Anakin Skywalker doesn’t fall when Sidious asks him too. But he still very nearly did. Or, how to live with the consequences of the right choice when it leaves you feeling hollow, still only a step away from the dark.

You are standing at an edge, behind you the cliff, in front of you the open plane set aflame. You can take a step back into free fall and save the woman you love; you can take a step forward and keep your feet on the ground.

Your name is Skywalker but you do not have a pair of wings.

You take a step forward; the woman you love more than the galaxy dies, and, for the briefest of moments, you turn around and throw yourself over the cliff in a running leap.

You don't fall, you are caught by roots older than yourself, vines pulling you up, and golden flowers grow where your burned skin touches the earth. You scream and rage and cry, can't find any peace at all, not even in the arms of your loved ones because she is dead, dead, dead, and you could have saved her, but you chose to abandon her instead.

Your heart roars like a dragon and you want to swallow the world whole. You were your mother's son, your Master's apprentice, and your wife's husband. All the parts of yourself that used to be a child of a desert already broke away and now the sweet meadows of Naboo are turning into barren fields.

Your wife is dead, the Jedi are not. Thousands of lights surround you, but you still feel as if you were stumbling in the dark.

You are still standing at the edge of a fall, but you are standing and not drowning. It should be enough, but it isn't.

The war ends without you (with you right in the middle of it.)

Three Masters are dead, the Council is down by a quarter and you are no help because you are still contemplating the what if, caught in a moment you can't change.

You do not attend your wife's funeral because you have two children to care for and the wind still rushes through your hair, urging you to look around. The flowers create a pathway to Naboo for you, but you don't dare to walk it, not even when gentle rain falls down your face when all your tears have already run out.

The war has ended, and you have never been more exhausted. Nobody told you that life could be this hollow and the only reason you get up in the morning are your children. Were you not grieving (but this can't be grief, you have grieved before and it was never as all-consuming as this), you would laugh at the fact that you and your wife were both right, but all you can think of when holding your children is that you don't even know their names. When your Master asks for them, you don't have a reply for him, only more tears, and so you spend another day.

You do not name your children, not really.

You are too shaken, too close to asking which name you would carry at the very bottom of the sea you could have fallen into. With more patience and kindness than you deserve, your Master helps you navigate the garden you have been gifted and shows you choices with the same gentle voice that he has always sung sweet lullabies for you.

Your Master returns with a notebook filled with struck out names and you pick light and moon and let him wrap you in his robes as if you were nine and not nine times 2 and a half chances of getting it right.

You don't dare to take your eyes off your son and your daughter and you don't know whether that isn't the same as looking into the abyss. You can barely keep yourself from lashing out at all that hold them and still you are praised when you do so with soft hymns and never-ending warmth.

Your Padawan returns, head held high and so full of sunlight that you can feel the flowers grow, wrap around your ankles and legs, stuff your throat so you won't cry in front of her. She laughs victoriously and grins like a predator at Maul because she was right. She is no longer your child, no longer innocent, but she does not know the depths to which you have fallen and you want to keep it this way.

Maul only tilts his head and laughs at you because he knows.

In his treason-gold-fire eyes, you see your reflection, how you are barely standing. You return your apprentice's hug and listen to her story, introduce her to your son and your daughter, and reassure her you are fine, fine, fine.

You don't walk to your Master's bed in the middle of the night and you do not sleep in your own. Instead, you sit at your children's crib, grief-regret-forget-me-not blue eyes staring at your hands. Too easily they could have become stained with red-blood-end-justifies-the-means and it scares you more than anything because flowers are fragile and only bloom for a moment, but you'd try to keep them year-round anyway.

The thoughts linger and bury themselves in your mind, fingers pressing into the earth and breaking as they are buried alive.

Your Master enters your room and doesn't even hesitate to pull you to your feet and to your bed. He helps you undress and you cling to him because you don't know how to fill the canyons where there used to be love. You can feel the fear, the anger, the suffering, and the hate threatening to wash it out like a tidal wave.

You want to apologize, but you only hide your face away in his chest and try to breathe as you did when the sand nearly swallowed you up. He runs his fingers through your hair, intertwines like ivy around a tree trunk, but you can only think of the poison and you do not want to ruin him as well.

You do not want to ruin them.

You fall asleep with your mind already made up and you dream of nothing. No nightmare haunts you anymore, but you might fear this emptiness even more, being a ghost in your own body.

In the morning, as early as the sun rises, you leave your children with the others. You kiss them sweet goodbye when their eyes are still closed and they do not know of your path.

You hear them cry out for you when you walk down the hallway. Their whimpers reach your ears, reach your mind and you cannot cut the bond you have with them because you love them, but you can't be there for them.

You sink to your knees anyway, pressing your hands against your ears, begging for the lightning to stop cracking in your ears, tempting you to make the wrong-right-maybe decision.

There near the temple wall you remain until your Master comes to pick you up, calling your terms of endearment your tattered heart does not deserve, foolishly as it beats. He guides you back to your children even when you beg him not to, try to make him understand that it was all for them.

He looks at you strangely, an expression full of loss and failure, and you don't know how to tell him that it was not his fault, never. He did all he could, and this is the culmination of all your choices.

Even when he talks about letting go and being let go of, you still can't follow his words because you do not understand the difference between justification and sacrifice.

All you know is that the war is over and yet your mind fights for survival.

Your name is Anakin Skywalker.

You are standing at the edge of a cliff and you can hear the darkness scream.

[bisqueri]

Tubbo will NOT be the next Schlatt and Tommy will NOT become the next Wilbur

(This is the text form version of my video where I talked about my own idea and stuff. The video:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LgZMFkdUTiY)

Salutations! I will be talking about my thoughts/general ideas about Villaininnit and Villain!Tubbo. 

Do I personally think that Villaininnit and Villain!Tubbo will happen? As of 12/17/20, not too likely for Tommy, because he has Technoblade backing him up and his moral compass has still not misaligned, but the possibility of it for the future is still there. Tubbo on the other hand… Oh I am mostly certainly sure, because he is already on the path to Villainy.

(Continuation below because it’s kind of long)

Now let’s start with the whole Tubbo-Tommy-Schlat- Wilburt connection. What is this connection? This is the idea that as the story progresses Tubbo will grow to become more like Schlatt and Tommy will grow to become more like Wilbur. Their predecessors. This idea has grown in popularity specifically in the Tumblr side of things due to the Exile arc. In this arc Tubbo goes against his cabinet and exiles Tommy. During this exile Tommy is slowly going off of the deep end. Several characters in canon, also pointed this idea out especially in the iconic line of “As long as I won’t become the next Schlatt, you can’t become the next Wilbur”.

What do I personally think of this connection? I think I can see why it’s so popular, not only is it backed up by canon lines by the characters, but the imagery of Tubbo with horns and Tommy with Wil’s coat is simply spectacular. However, I’m thinking of a different idea, because I think this whole connection is not that strong.

I’ll explain why. Tommy and Wilbur, though the connection is quite stronger than Tubbo and Schlatt I feel still doesn’t work that well.What separates them the most is their reaction to being exiled. Wilbur was filled with anger, he used that anger to start a new movement to save his country back with pride. He started clearing and building a new home the moment he got exiled. Tommy, on the other hand, is distraught and hesitant to start anew. He’s not angry, he’s frustrated.  

With the ominous message from the Exile arc about how people only respect him when he has power. Tommy will most likely have a power hungry arc in the future. Where he will do anything to get what he wants, different from Wilbur’s goal of destroying the thing he cannot have in what I assume is his miserable attempt to preserve it’s essence. To save L’manburge from Jschlatt

Tommy’s descent in the exile arc differs from Wilbur, Wilbur was more manipulative. Taunting Tommy on how he’ll never be president. While Tommy’s descent was filled with violence as seen with his actions towards Techno and JackManifold. Kinda like how Schaltt was with his old cabinet who was trying to help him.

The Tubbo and Schlatt connection, I think is way off. The problem here is that Tubbo said it himself, he doesn’t want power he doesn’t want control he wants what’s the best for New L’manburg. You can’t connect them on a goal oriented level. because Schlatt wants power. Schlatt simply does what he thinks is the best for himself.

The motivations of these characters should be the most important thing in connecting them. Because I believe that a character’s motivation, what a character wants will pave the way onto how they will achieve it and who they will become. So if Tommy-Wilbur parallels don’t align because Tommy wants to reclaim what was his, while Wilbur wanted to preserve what wasL’manberge; and Tubbo-Schlatt parallels don’t align because Tubbo wants what’s good for New L’manberg, while Schlatt wants what’s good for himself. Then what’s another idea we can apply to these characters.

Well, I present to you the Tommy-Schaltt and Tubbo-Wilbur connection.  I believe that the characters that have been paired off in this new connection have more in common than the connection I mentioned earlier.

Tommy and Schlatt both have selfish goals. Tommy wants his discs. Schlatt wants his power. Both of them also have violent tendencies which is most obvious during their descents. Tommy lashes out violently to the people who were trying to help him, just like a certain goat.

we know that Tommy can put his discs to the side-- he’s not that selfish, but Tommy is changing. He’s done putting his own desires to the side, he wants what is rightfully his. I can imagine Tommy realizing that the only way he’ll get his discs back is to become powerful. Give Tommy his villain arc, he deserves to go feral in the pursuit of power. Both Tommy and Schlatt have been exiled, I desperately hope that when Tommy returns from his exile he gets the power that he craves in order to get what he wants.

Tubbo and Wilbur. What do they have in common? Wilbur wanted to destroy L’manburg, while Tubbo wants to protect it. The thing they have in common is their unyielding love for L’manburg. A devotion that ruins one’s morality. That’s what Tubbo and Schlatt don’t have in common, Tubbo has ideals he maintains, Schlatt doesn’t. However these ideals are slowly being broken. In a reddit post, Wilbur confirmed that Tubbo is a lawful good. Tubbo stick to what is right and what is good. But as we can see Tubbo is under immense pressure from his cabinet, they don’t respect him. His cabinet wants power and they don’t see Tubbo as powerful. So, Tubbo in this current arc is turning against his morals of peace in order to satisfy his violent cabinet. He even broke the no armor rule. He’s changing and not for the better.

This sounds a lot like Wilbur during his time in Pogtopia. Where Wilbur’s sanity cracks under the pressure of his fellow Pogtopians wishing for a great ruler. Wilbur tossed his old days of adamantly using words to fight, when the war came he wielded his weapons. Since he can’t have his country, he’ll have to destroy it in order to protect L’manburg from the hands of others.

I predict that Tubbo will end up betraying the butcher army once he realizes how futile this quest is. That what Quackity is doing is ruining Tubbo’s beloved L’manburg. If Tubbo completes his road to villainy I think he’ll end up as a scary villain who manipulates and smiles through things. Tubbo cares about L’manburg the most. It’s the only thing that has been trusted to him, and I’m sure he’ll do anything to protect it, morals be damned.

There’s already hints of Tubbo becoming more obsessed with L’manburg. During the beginning of the Exile Arc, something stuck out to me. When Tubbo exiled Tommy he said “Dream, please escort Tommy out of my country”, not L’manburge, or New L’manberge it’s my country.  When he first said it, I immediately got flashbacks to Wilbur repeatedly saying “my L'manburg”.

So in conclusion, while Tubbo-Schlatt, Tommy-Wilbur have more connections aesthetically, I think that narratively Tubbo-Wilbur and Tommy-Schlatt have a stronger connection. Tubbo and Tommy know the score. They know that Tommy shouldn’t end up like Wilbur and Tubbo knows that he shouldn’t end up like Schlatt. They’ll do everything to not end up like their parallel predecessor . But nobody is stopping them from becoming like the other’s predecessors.

Tubbo will become  not like Schlatt but like Wilbur.

And Tommy will become not like Wilbur but like Schlatt.

Is this true Who knows? All I know is that these two will end up as on opposite sides of the battlefield

Bonus prediction:

Yo guys a short prediction on what I think will happen in the Christmas Festival. Philza will inform the Antarctic anarchist commune on the event and how Dream will be there. Tommy suggests that it’ll be the perfect time to try and get his discs back, and Techno will think it’s perfect time for revenge, and of course ghostbur is happy to attend a festival. On the day of reckoning. Dream gets trapped and all is going to plan. However I believe that Tommy’s unresolved confused feelings about his manipulator will cause him to help dream. Imagine the cinematic parallels of Tommy enderpearling to defend a trapped Dream just like how he enderpearled to Tubbo during the festival. Techno will help Dream escape this assanation, he owes dream a solid after all. And Phil will follow and protect his sons, because he doesn’t want to be helpless anymore. He wants to protect his family. And as things are going down Tubbo vs. Tommy. Wilbur will be breaking down filled with so much repressed memories begging to be let out. Maybe he’ll remember, and who knows what will happen to him. Maybe this will be the time that Tubbo realizes that the butcher army is ruining new l’manberge and he has to save his country.

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 12

thank you all so much for your patience! and for all the lovely birthday wishes <3 i hope this was worth the wait! also I know fuck all about medical stuff, please forgive me lol

Masterpost

taglist: @sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @ghostcomit @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lave-e @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it 

CW: dehumanisation, pet whumpee, self-harm mentions, very negative thoughts towards not being able to walk (please note: Rowe’s negativity towards not being able to walk comes entirely from the fact he was trained to kneel & doesn’t feel that he’s ‘earned’ the right to rest, and nothing else)

-

“The hospital says your leg should be fine to walk on in like a week,” Master said, holding the letter out for Rowe to see. Rowe breathed a sigh of relief. “But that’s obviously complete bullshit. They’re only saying that because you’re a Pet. You’ll need to rest for at least a month.”

“A month, Master?”

“Oh good, your ears work,” he replied, ruffling Rowe’s hair. “Now, I’d better make you something to eat.”

And before Rowe could protest (he shouldn’t protest, Pets don’t argue back), Master had gone, leaving Rowe with the ever-deepening knot in his stomach.

This was bad.

He couldn’t even walk. How on earth was he going to be useful now? He had tried to get up today, wanting to show Master Tomas that he was good, he knew a splint was no excuse, he could still get up and serve. But all that had happened was he put an ounce of weight on the stupid thing and immediately cried out in pain, bringing Master to force him back to bed.

So he couldn’t walk. He certainly couldn’t kneel. How would he beg properly? The knot twisted so horrifically at that thought that he felt nauseous. What would he do if he couldn’t beg? How would he get food, or sleep? How would he show Master that he was sorry after he broke a rule? How would he even be properly submissive if he was just fucking sitting there with his stupid, stupid, stupid broken leg?

His fist flew down towards it, but he stopped himself just in time. It’d only make him scream again, and Master had already given him a warning about that. Instead he stared at the letter from the hospital. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

He turned his head away. It just said what Master had told him. Master doesn’t lie, Rowe thought absently.

When Master returned some time later with a gently steaming mug and a plate of food, Rowe decided to beg in the only other way he knew how.

“M-Master,” he began, bowing his head and holding his curled up hands together, “Please, I can walk, I’ll be fine. Please let me try.”

“No, Rowe,” Master replied immediately, making Rowe’s heart sink.

“Please- I have to kneel-”

“You don’t. You need to rest. Walking will only make your leg worse. You’re delicate.”

“Th-then, please, Master, how will I- how will I beg for food, an-and sleep, and be good…”

Master set the tray down on Rowe’s -no, Master’s, nothing here was his possession, you know that Rowe- bedside table, and perched on the end of the bed. He was wearing a thin knitted cardigan that had slid down his shoulders to gather in the crook of his elbows. His rings, three of them today, clinked together as he took Rowe’s hand. Rowe had learnt that this meant a stern order was coming.

“You don’t need to kneel, pal. You don’t need to earn food or sleep, okay? You can take them freely.”

“N-no, I have to earn it, it’s a privilege, Master.”

“Okay,” he sighed. “If I give you permission to eat and sleep every day, will you do it?”

“Of course, Master.” An order was an order.

“Then that’s what I’ll do. You can eat this lunch. It’s just some spag bol.”

“Thank you, thank you, I’m very grateful, Master.” Rowe said, bowing his head submissively. Master rubbed his thumb along Rowe’s knuckles.

“But before you eat, I do have something else I need to say to you.”

Rowe tensed, nodding. Master stood, leaving Rowe’s hand feeling cold.

“I know what’s going on, okay? With all your mystery injuries. I know you didn’t trip when you broke your nose, I know you have new cuts along your shoulders, and I don’t even know how you were planning on hiding your legs from me. Jesus Christ, Rowe,” his voice faltered, trembling ever so slightly, with something that didn’t seem like anger, “it was fucking scary. I know you’re- look, I know you’ve been hurting yourself. Okay? That’s what this is about. I know you’ve done these things to yourself and it has to stop now.”

He sank to his haunches, bringing himself down to eye level, and took Rowe’s hands- both of them. Maybe he thought Rowe might lash out and hurt him too. Rowe wanted to protest, but Master hadn’t finished speaking.

“It has to stop, love. I care about you so, so much, and I know that you have had a scary fucking life. I- well, I don’t know, I couldn’t know what it’s been like for you, and what you’ve gone through. But I know you’re often very scared, and living with me has been very new and weird, yeah? And I know that when I got you, you were expecting something very different. I’m not…trying to put words in your mouth. B-but if you’re trying to, uh, make up for a lack of punishments, this isn’t how to do that, okay. We can work something out. Right now, I have to be firm with you. If you hurt yourself again, you will be in trouble. I don’t want to frighten you, and I will do everything I can to help you with this, but what matters most is you stopping. You’ve been escalating too, starting off with your nose, then knives, and now a hammer? It isn’t safe, Rowe. Do you understand? Oh, honey-”

Master wiped away the tears that had started to run down Rowe’s cheeks. He sniffed and meekly told Master that yes, he did understand.

“Alright. Is there anything you want to say? Do you want to talk about it? Anything you want me to do differently?”

Rowe wished he wasn’t crying. Crying made him look guilty. What could he say? He wanted to kneel so much.

“…I’m sorry, Master.”

“Don’t be sorry, Rowe. Everything is going to be fine. Things will be a bit different while your leg heals…but you will get used to it. We will get used to it.”

Master’s thumb, wet with Rowe’s tears, moved to cup his face as he planted a small kiss on Rowe’s forehead. A kiss- that was new. He quite liked it.

-

thirty days until I’m useful again

The clock showed quarter past two in the morning. Master thought Rowe was hurting himself. Which did make sense -why would Master doubt his friend?- but it was wrong, and Rowe had always been taught that his owner was never wrong. Your owner doesn’t make mistakes, what they say goes, and their Pet shuts up and accepts it. But- but-

His head felt close to bursting with the conflicting information. And even worse, when Kasia next came and used him as a punching bag, Master was going to get angry. He would think Rowe had deliberately disobeyed him, and he would be so furious that after everything he had done for him, Rowe had had the nerve to ignore an order like that? After all his consideration, and patience, and, and, kindness.

He sank back against the bedframe and stared at his leg, propped up by a tower of cushions. He tried to wiggle his toes. It hurt. Was this Kasia’s plan all along? Make Rowe so pitiful that Master finally threw him out, for Kasia to snap up? The walls were caving in and here he was, helpless, watching it happen.

-

twenty-eight days until I’m useful again

“It’s getting cold,” Master said. Rowe mumbled an agreement, although he couldn’t say he felt cold, wrapped up as he was in a blanket on the sofa, his splinted leg poking out delicately. Master seemed to realise this and smiled softly. “I suppose you’re quite snug right now, aren’t you?”

“Th-thank you, Master.”

“No, no, I didn’t say it just to get a thank you. Being cold is the worst. Which reminds me, I have to take my pill. I’m a fiend for forgetting.”

“What’s your pill for, Master?”

There was a time Rowe would never have dared ask such a silly, invasive question, but Master had made it clear that he didn’t mind. He seemed to like it when Rowe talked and, as Master put it, ‘made conversation’. Besides, Rowe had never seen him take any sort of medication.

“Folic acid. For my sins. Or, well, mainly for my anemia.”

“What’s… what’s that?”

Although, maybe he was still pushing it. Old master would have laughed at Rowe’s ignorance, before punishing him for asking.

“It’s a deficiency,” Master replied casually. “Makes me cold, and grumpy, and if I stand up too fast I go blind for a few seconds. Sometimes I faint! But this little top-up keeps me in order.”

Rowe watched Master chase the pill down with some water. Something about this felt… odd. Rowe had always been taught that a Pet’s owner was perfect. But now that he thought about it, Master did always seem to be wrapped up warm, or clutching a mug of tea.

“Do- do you- do you want this blanket?” Rowe ventured nervously. Master smiled and his eyes twinkled softly.

“Aw, Rowe, that is so kind. But I’m fine, honestly. You’re the one with the splint! You need to be wrapped up. I will come and sit with you, if that’s alright. Want to put the telly on?”

-

twenty-five days until I’m useful again

TV was a new and strange phenomenon for Rowe. Master rarely put it on before, but with Rowe spending most of his days confined to the sofa, wanting for nothing, being treated far better than he deserved, he had started watching some with his Pet- a routine that didn’t last long.

“I’m remembering why I don’t watch TV much,” remarked Master, filling up the kettle and eyeing the millionth episode of some dreadful home makeover show. “Bloody daytime shite.”

Rowe agreed, but he wouldn’t dare sound ungrateful. Until-

“What do you think, pal?”

That question again. “It’s- uh- n-not that great.”

“Thank fuck. Well done on telling the truth, love. I’ll try and find something a bit more exciting.”

Telling the truth. Rowe stared at his leg, and the cuts under his shirt ached.

-

twenty-two days until I’m useful again

Rowe could hardly focus on the book he was reading. It was called James and the Giant Peach, and it was charming (and he was reading!), but he couldn’t stop his skin from crawling.

Master was sat beside him, typing away on the laptop balanced on his knees, (complaining because ever since Adam had come over everyone at work had started being weirdly polite in their emails) but for some reason his closeness wasn’t the issue. It should be, Rowe knew. He should be far more scared of his Master than he was.

“You alright, pal? Haven’t turned a page in a while. Is there a word you’re struggling with?”

Rowe flinched as Master leant in. “I really- really want to be useful, Master, please,” he admitted.

“Ahh, you’re feeling a bit restless? That’s totally normal. Happens to all people.”

But I’m not a person, Rowe thought. Maybe Master was just trying to relate.

“I know what you can do. You want a chore, right?”

Rowe nodded enthusiastically. “Yes please, Master.”

“Righty. Two secs.”

The basket of freshly dried laundry dropped onto the sofa with a thunk, and a few seconds later Master sat next to it with a ‘’here you go, pal, fancy doing some folding?’’

The itchiness went away in a heartbeat. He had barely stammered out a thank you before he had seized the first item and got to work.

When his hands brushed against Master Tomas’s he looked up in confusion. Master simply smiled at him while neatly folding a pair of trousers.

What? Was Rowe not being fast enough? Was he being clumsy? Was Master showing him how, because Rowe was doing such a terrible job? Was he- was he in trouble?

“Hey, don’t worry,” said Master, seeing the look on Rowe’s face. “Just thought I’d do my share. We both live here after all, don’t we?”

“But- but- this is what I’m for, Master?”

“You’re doing this because you wanted to. I haven’t asked. These last few days you’ve just been resting and I’ve been perfectly happy with you.”

Rowe never understood when Master spoke in riddles like that. Why couldn’t he just be direct in what he wanted from Rowe?

“O-okay, Master.”

-

nineteen days until I can kneel

“This is for you,” Master said, opening up the parcel that had clattered through the letterbox earlier and made Rowe jump. He watched as Master Tomas ran a pair of scissors through the tape, and his chest felt… fine? Like even though Master could hurt him, and he probably should, it wasn’t a scary thought. Before Rowe had a chance to think about that further, Master brought out a pair of very fluffy socks.

“For me?” he asked, even though that was exactly what he’d just been told. He just couldn’t quite believe it, even after everything Master had given him.

“Yeah! Got to keep your feet warm, pal. Want to try them on?”

Rowe nodded and slipped them on. They were patterned with red and white stripes, and they came up almost to his knee on his free leg. Master Tomas helped him fold the other down to sit underneath the splint.

“Thank you so much, they’re lovely,” Rowe said earnestly, and- even better- actually smiled. Master Tomas smiled straight back at him.

-

seventeen days left until I can use my leg

“Have you always been a Pet?” Master asked suddenly. Rowe looked up from his book, his fingers curling in at the memory of his training.

“Yes, Master.”

“You didn’t have a life before it?”

“No. I was trained to be a Pet… that’s all I know.”

This seemed to be the wrong answer. Master frowned deeply.

“Don’t you have anyone missing you? Is there someone you care about, somewhere out there?”

“Only you, Master.”

And it was the utmost truth, and Rowe hoped Master believed him, because Rowe didn’t want him to worry.

 fourteen days until I’m healed

eleven days left of resting

nine days left- because it’s good for me

five days left and I feel so much better already

three days left-

“Hey, Kas,” Master said, his voice floating down the stairs. Rowe went stiff. He had almost forgotten- Master had been so kind that he, he, he had got complacent. How did he let himself forget? “The hospital told me I didn’t ever properly sign the forms for Rowe. Call me back when you get this, and we can sort it out? Cheers, mate. See you.”

A beep. Rowe could barely breathe. He pressed a hand to his face to calm himself. It was a voicemail, Kasia didn’t pick up, there was still time-

Master’s soft footsteps padded towards him-

Rowe tried in vain not to cry. He was so weak, crying at the mere mention of his tormentor. Master was seconds from rounding the corner into the living room. Kasia would come soon. And then what? What would he do to Rowe this time? And what would Master say?

Rowe’s chest heaved with his panicked breaths.

What could he do?