#and it's not that I don't want people to have fun

[erinwantstowrite]

every time i start panicking about the small details (like how i don't know near as much marvel lore as i do DC, etc) i remind myself that LoF wasn't supposed to get super popular and im just having fun and practicing writing for my own books and suddenly that anxiety goes away. like it's not gonna be perfect and it was born out of me and my friend being goofy

[kirammanswifey]

helloo!! can you please write about ‘arcane characters when you get in an argument’? i absolutely love ur writing btw!! 🫶🏻

arguments with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: i love when you guys request this kind of interesting dynamics, it's so fun to write about it! also my favorite this time was sevika's, I meannn it was kinda hot and spicy. requests are open ;)

Viktor

The sound of the keys under his hands seems to fill the air, but what resonates most is the silence between the two of you. The room is steeped in an unsettling calm, while he keeps working as if nothing else exists. It��s been days since he last rested, and you know it. His skin is paler than usual, his eyes glassy, as if all the world's exhaustion is about to devour him. The scent of machine oil and metal permeates the room, but what hurts you most is the fragility of his being, the one he insists on ignoring.

Slowly, frustration begins to simmer within you. You love him more than anything in the world, but watching him so neglected, so absorbed in his work that he doesn’t even stop to eat, burns you.

You approach him, and suddenly, you can't take it anymore. Your tone isn't raised, but the fury is felt in every word. "Viktor, stop," you murmur, almost pleading. "You’re killing yourself. You haven’t eaten in days, not even slept. Do you know what you're doing? You're letting yourself go. Your body is crying out for help, and you're ignoring it."

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t react. He keeps working as if your words don't reach him. Frustrated, you step closer. "You can't keep going like this, Viktor! What are you expecting? For someone to come and save you from yourself? This isn't just about your work, it’s about you!"

Finally, he looks up, but his eyes don’t seem to truly see you. Only a shadow of exhaustion. "I do it for them... for the people. The work... my research, it’s all that matters now."

"And you? Don’t you matter?" The anger mixes with something much deeper. Something that has to do with fear. "Your lack of self-love is so evident, Viktor, even I can see it. You're losing yourself in this obsession."

The words come out harsher than you intended. But seeing the flash of pain in his eyes, you realize what you've just said. A lump forms in your throat.

You fall silent, feeling the air grow thick. Guilt quickly invades you, and before you can think, you kneel in front of him. "Forgive me," you whisper, the anger already dissipated, replaced by sincere pain. "I didn't mean to be so harsh. It’s just... I don't want to see you like this, so lost. I don’t want you to hurt yourself because you are what I love most, Viktor."

Your hands tremble as you take his face in yours. "Please, take care of yourself. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to see you like this anymore, fighting alone against everything. Because, to me, you are everything."

Viktor says nothing at first. He just watches you, the conflict in his gaze. Then, as if releasing a sigh he had been holding for too long, he responds softly, "I’ll try... I promise I’ll try."

You look at him with a mix of relief and sadness. Finally, you stand up and take his hand firmly. "Now come with me. I’m going to make your favorite dinner. You need it."

The change in his expression is almost imperceptible, but it’s there. Something in his face softens, and for the first time in a long while, he gives you a faint smile. "You know, that sounds wonderful," he says with a tone that mixes surprise and gratitude.

As you prepare dinner, the atmosphere changes. The tension slowly dissolves, but there’s something else in the air, a silent understanding between you two. After dinner, you look at him with a mischievous smile.

"Viktor," you say, your voice full of complicity. "How many days have you gone without bathing? Because, honestly, I think it’s time you do."

He visibly shifts in discomfort, his face taking on a pink hue. "Honestly... I don’t know," he replies, as if trying to evade the question, looking down. "The truth is, I haven’t had time to think about those things."

Your laugh is soft but teasing. "I think you’ve forgotten a bit about yourself. So, what do you think if after dinner, we take a bath together?"

Viktor blushes even more, but before he can say anything, he has already conceded, and with an exaggerated formality only he can pull off, he responds, "Well... that... that would be very pleasant. If you don’t mind, of course."

The tension from before has transformed into something softer, lighter. You, amused by his so formal response, take his hand and lead him to the bathroom, feeling that, in that moment, all that really matters is that he’s finally willing to take care of himself.

Jinx

The sound of the spark igniting the fuse fills the room. Jinx has a playful smile on her face, but something isn't right. The bomb is making strange noises, as if it's about to fail. The sparkle in her eyes fades for a second, but it's accompanied by a nervous chuckle.

"What's wrong, Jinx?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. The moment feels out of place, and for a moment, you sense that something is very wrong, very out of control. "That... doesn't sound right."

But she just stands there, watching the bomb intently. She doesn't move. The air grows heavy, and suddenly, the bomb makes a terrifying click.

Your eyes widen as you see the timer on the bomb speeding up. A chill grips you, and in an instant, you act on instinct. You leap toward the table, your breath quickening, and deactivate the bomb just before it fully triggers. The explosion is seconds away from ringing in your ears, but you manage to stop it.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you quickly turn to face Jinx. She’s still there, motionless, her eyes fixed on the deactivated bomb, as if hypnotized. She doesn't look scared or relieved, just... empty.

"Why didn't you do anything?" you confront her, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why did you just stand there? You could have died, Jinx! We could have both died!"

Jinx stares at the floor, her demeanor shifting in a second. The mockery dissolves, the mask falls, and in its place appears the scared girl she so often hides. "I... just wanted to see what would happen." Her response is soft, trembling, as if she doesn't know how to process what just happened.

Those few seconds of silence feel eternal. The air around you grows heavy, as if the whole world is waiting for something else to explode. And it does. You can't take it anymore. Fury takes over, and you lash out at her.

"What did you want to see, Jinx?" Your voice is harsh, filled with frustration. "Did you want to see us both die because of your stupid curiosity? Is that what you wanted?"

Jinx shrinks, her expression transforming into something so fragile it burns your heart. Her face is filled with regret, but her eyes can't meet yours. Tears begin to well up in her eyes, but she keeps staring at the floor, feeling small and scolded.

"I didn't mean to... I swear..." she murmurs, almost in a whisper, her words choked by the pain of having gone too far.

Your rage starts to dissipate, replaced by something deeper. An irrational fear, the anguish of watching Jinx destroy herself. You walk toward her, kneel to her level, and gently take her chin, lifting it so she looks at you.

What you see stops you cold. Jinx's nails are deeply embedded in her palms, red marks that have hurt her, as if she wants to punish herself for something. You stare at her intently, the pain reflected in her eyes and her gesture.

Quickly, you take her hands, without saying a word, and kiss them softly, your lips touching the small wounds on her skin. The blood from her hands stains your lips, but you don't care. "You know I hate seeing you destroy yourself," you murmur, your voice broken by the fear you still feel. "Please, Sweets, don't do this to yourself. Don't do this to us."

You stay still, waiting for her reaction. Finally, the door that had closed in her heart opens, and Jinx lets out a deep sob. Tears fall down her face, like an unexpected rain, and her body trembles.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." Jinx sobs, clutching you tightly. There are no more laughs, no more jokes. Just pure pain. And you hold her with equal intensity, rocking her in your arms, trying to soothe her, to erase the suffering she always carries inside.

"Pain isn't the solution," you whisper, stroking her braided hair, trying to convey all the love you feel for her. "I'll always be here for you, Sweets. You don't have to carry all this alone."

She remains silent for a moment, her sobs calming, but her embrace is still desperate. Finally, after a few seconds, her eyes lift, and with a small smile, she says:

"So... want to make bombs, but in a fun way? With less blood this time!"

The laughter that follows fills the room, and even though you know the battle isn't won, this small step in her recovery gives you renewed hope. Taking her hand, you lead her back to the table with the tools, ready for another night filled with madness... but this time, with a little more care.

Vi

The air in the Undercity feels heavy tonight, a cold that seems to seep into your bones. The sound of metal echoing through the structures, the distant murmurs of shouts and laughter, mix with the echo of your footsteps on the iron bridge that crosses the dark, grimy avenue. You walk in silence, but the tension in the air is palpable.

Suddenly, a drunk, staggering with a vacant stare, approaches you. The stench of alcohol wafts from his breath, and his eyes settle on you in a not-so-friendly way. His rough, hollow laughter resonates in the air, as if nothing he was about to do mattered.

Before you can react, his hands touch your backside without warning, sending a wave of revulsion through you and a shiver down your spine.

A choked scream escapes you, but before you can push him away, you feel Vi’s furious gaze, like a storm about to break loose. The anger on her face is palpable, and not a second later, the drunk is on the ground, receiving blows that thunder like hammers. His face is soon covered in blood, and the sound of fists pounding against his body leaves a disturbing feeling in the air.

Vi doesn’t stop; each punch is more brutal than the last. People in the distance quickly disperse, leaving only the echo of the hits. Your heart races, worry consumes you as you watch Vi unleash her uncontrollable fury.

"Vi, stop!" You lunge toward her, but in the process, one of her fury-fueled punches lands directly on your lip. The immediate pain stuns you, and when you touch your face, your hand is filled with blood. The split lip burns. Vi stops abruptly, looking at her bloodstained knuckles—her own, the drunk’s, and now yours.

She stands frozen, her face, once filled with rage, now shows a look of horror. “Oh, God…” she murmurs, seeing what she has done.

You tremble, not just from the pain in your lip but from the brutality of her actions. You’re not used to violence, not on this magnitude. Fear knots in your chest, and you let out a shaky sigh as you watch Vi, her face now wrecked with guilt.

"I didn’t mean to!" Her voice is broken, as if the guilt is overwhelming her.

“Let’s go home,” you respond coldly, more out of fear than anger, "and when we get there, we’ll talk."

The walk home is silent, the tension hanging between you like a taut string about to snap. When you arrive, you enter the kitchen and quickly tend to your lip, while Vi watches silently, unable to articulate a word.

Once you finish, you turn to her. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unsaid. “Vi…” you begin, your voice soft but firm. “You need to learn to control your anger. This time, you just didn’t hurt someone else. This time, it was me too. Me, the person you love the most. Do you realize that? Do you realize how I felt when your blows landed on me?”

Her eyes fill with tears, and her throat tightens as if she wants to say something, but the words are stuck in her chest. “I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

You continue, your words coming out with more pain than you expected. “Sometimes… I’m afraid of you, Vi. Not because of what you might do to others, but because of what you might do to me. I don’t want to live in fear of your rage hurting me. It hurts so much. It hurt so much.”

Vi collapses in front of you, breaking down. Her tears fall one after another, and she throws herself into your arms, holding you in a desperate embrace. “I don’t know why I’m like this… I don’t know how… how to control it. I always have this rage inside, and sometimes I don’t know how to stop it. When it explodes, everything goes to hell, I know…” Her voice cracks as she clings to you. "I don’t want to hurt you, I don’t want to hurt you."

The softness in her tone hits you harder than any punch, and in that moment, you know she understands. "Vi, I… I don’t want you to hurt anymore," you murmur, caressing her back. "I don’t want that rage to control you."

She pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes, her face soaked in tears. “I’m so sorry. I swear it wasn’t my intention… but sometimes…” her words trail off in a sigh.

A small, sad smile forms on your face. “Have you thought about boxing? Maybe it’ll help you release all that. And I’ll go with you! But promise me you won’t use me as a punching bag, okay?" you joke with a smile, trying to lighten the moment.

Vi finally laughs, a laugh that feels like relief. “I promise. Just, please, don’t leave me, okay?”

You approach her, tenderly kissing her, careful to avoid the wound on your lip, and you feel the softness of her lips, the calm that finally settles between you. “I would never leave you, babe,” you whisper as you both embrace, knowing that, even though everything is complicated and painful, there is something between you that always keeps you together.

Caitlyn

The door bursts open, and Caitlyn enters the room with a face marked by a fury that seems to burn inside her. Your eyes lift from where you're sitting, a little surprised by her abrupt entrance, but you quickly see what has been happening.

"I can't believe what I had to hear today," Caitlyn throws out, her voice cold and cutting as she drops her jacket on a chair. "All because of your... damn ideas of justice. Do you have any idea what that means in this place?"

You stand up slowly, the tone of her voice making the air grow denser, heavier. "What happened, Cait?" you ask, though part of you already knows it has something to do with her ideals.

"It's not just what happened, it's what's happening. All the damn time," she responds, walking toward you with contained rage. "You go on and on about doing what's right, without understanding that ‘right’ isn’t always what people in high places think. You think you can change something, but all you're doing is making it worse."

Your heart races, and a spark of frustration rises in your chest. "Make it worse?" you repeat, feeling indignation begin to spill out of you. "Is that what you think? That my actions aren't worth it? You're so blinded by your perfect view of the world that you can't see what's really going on in the streets! Evil isn't just in the ‘high society,’ Caitlyn. It's everywhere."

Caitlyn looks at you with an intensity that almost seems defiant, but also wounded. "I'm not blind, the problem is that I can't understand why you keep going against the whole system. Every time you do, you just feed more chaos. You have to think about the consequences, about the people who can't afford those ideals you're defending like you're some fairy-tale hero. Not everyone can afford that luxury."

"A luxury?" Your voice rises slightly, now stronger. "What you call 'luxury' should be a right. Do you really not understand that people are suffering? That your 'system' is letting all of this crumble just to maintain power? I can't just stand by because you think it's fine because it looks neat from your tower."

Caitlyn steps back, as if your words hit some deep place inside her. "Not everything is as simple as ‘good’ and ‘evil.’ Sometimes things aren’t black or white. Sometimes you have to make concessions to move forward. What you’re doing is just putting yourself in the center, without understanding that there’s more at stake."

The words hang in the air between you two, and the intensity of the argument seems to rise with every exchange. Caitlyn is so convinced of her point of view that you can't help but feel frustrated by the barrier between you.

"What I understand, Caitlyn," you finally say, with a tense calm, "is that sometimes you do more harm by trying to follow the rules than by breaking them. And I know your intentions are good, but I can't stay silent watching you justify the unjustifiable."

Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if taking a breath to calm herself. When she opens them again, something has changed. It’s not that her anger has disappeared, but she seems more exhausted, as if all this is wearing her down. "I’m not asking you to agree with me. I'm just asking you to understand that sometimes, even if it hurts, decisions aren’t as easy as you see them."

There's a long silence between you, the air thick with discomfort and tension. You both know you're not going to come to an agreement this time, but you also know that won't change what lies between you.

Finally, Caitlyn sighs and sits on the edge of the table, letting the exhaustion take over her. "Sometimes I feel like I can't do anything right, no matter what I try," she murmurs, more to herself than to you. "And you... you make me see everything that's wrong with me."

You move a little closer, calmer but still hurt. "Cait, that's not what I want. What I want is for you to realize you don’t have to carry all of this on your own. You don’t have to keep walking down this path if it doesn't make you happy. I’m here for you, even when we don’t agree."

Caitlyn looks at you, her eyes reflecting some vulnerability, something she doesn't usually show. "I know. I just… I’m scared that I could lose everything I’ve built because... because I don't know when to stop."

You sit next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You’re not going to lose it, Cait. No matter how much we fight, what matters is that we’re in this together. But you also have to learn to take care of yourself, not just the world."

Caitlyn nods slowly, and for the first time in a long while, a small smile appears on her face, though it’s sad. "I guess sometimes I forget that."

The tension begins to dissipate, although the brush of differences is still there. Deep down, you both know that these kinds of discussions won’t end anytime soon, but you also know that you're both moving forward for something bigger than the disagreement.

Jayce

There was something heavy in the air that night. An uncomfortable silence that hadn't been able to break for the past few days. Despite being in the same house, in the same room, you felt farther away from Jayce than ever. It wasn't just the lack of physical contact, it wasn't just the absence of the small gestures that usually made everything work between you. It was something deeper, something that had been growing inside you without him realizing it.

Finally, you couldn’t hold it any longer. You sat on the bed, staring into the emptiness in front of you, and when he walked in, that feeling of discouragement completely overwhelmed you. Without looking at him, you started.

“Jayce, I don’t know what to think anymore,” you said, your voice quiet but firm. “It’s been days since… since we’ve had anything. And I’m not just talking about sex, I’m talking about everything. I don’t even feel like you desire me anymore.”

Jayce, who had been in his own world as usual, looked up at you, confused by your words. “What are you saying, honey?” Surprise was evident in his voice, but it wasn’t enough to calm the torrent that had been unleashed inside you.

“You don’t get it, do you?” You stood up from the bed, walking towards him, words pouring out like a torrent. “Every day, I feel like I’m just here, fitting into your perfect life. Everything we do, everything we plan, it feels like you’re doing it because you have to. What about what I want, Jayce? What about us?”

Jayce took a step towards you, opening his arms as if he wanted to get closer, but something in your gaze made him stop. “No… I don’t understand. What do you mean by fitting into my perfect life?”

Your breathing quickened. “What I mean is that sometimes, I feel like I’m just an accessory, another piece in the puzzle you’ve been putting together. Like what matters most to you is making everything look right, fitting, but not us. I don’t feel desired, Jayce. I feel empty, like I don’t matter, like I’m just here because I fit into your life, not because you actually want to be with me.”

The pain in your voice was palpable, and although Jayce tried to step closer, you moved away from him. “I’m so tired of feeling like we’re nothing more than two people sharing a space. There’s no passion, no connection… Just the idea of what’s expected of us.”

Jayce looked completely lost, like he never imagined you felt this way. “I can’t believe you’re saying this. You know how important you are to me. But I… I’ve been so focused on work, on everything we need to achieve, that…”

“That what?” you interrupted, unable to keep bearing what felt like a pile of excuses. “That you’re too busy to see what’s right in front of you? I have my own problems too, Jayce. Not everything revolves around your projects, your perfect image. I’m a person too, and my feelings matter too.”

The words hung in the air, between rage and pain. Jayce didn’t say anything, and that only increased the feeling of abandonment you were experiencing. Frustration and sadness took over you more and more. Finally, the silence was broken, but not in the way you expected.

“Honey…” Jayce started, his voice softer now, but still full of confusion. “I didn’t want to make you feel this way. I didn’t realize I was leaving you out. I didn’t want you to feel… unwanted.”

Your eyes filled with tears, the emotional pressure of being unheard for so long finally bursting. “I don’t want to be just another option in your life. I want to be loved, I want to feel desired, I want you to look at me like you’re afraid of losing me. And I don’t feel that from you. I feel like everything we do is a routine, just fulfilling what’s supposed to be.”

Jayce slowly approached, now understanding the gravity of your words. “I… I don’t know how I didn’t see all this. I’m sorry, honey. I really am. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve been so focused on everything else that… I’ve failed you.”

A heavy silence fell between you. You didn’t know what to think, just felt a knot in your stomach, but when Jayce took a step towards you, taking your hands, you couldn’t help but look him in the eyes, searching for some sign that he truly understood how you felt.

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his tone full of sincerity. “I promise I’ll change, I won’t take you for granted. You’re the most important thing to me, and if I made you feel like you weren’t, it hurts me deeply.”

You looked at him intently, seeing in his eyes the truth of his regret. “I know… but I need you to act instead of just saying it.”

Jayce nodded, a glimpse of a smile appearing on his face as his hands caressed yours. “I will. From now on, you and I… we’re a priority.”

Your heart lightened hearing those words, and when he hugged you, you held him tightly, knowing that the road to healing that disconnection wouldn’t be easy, but at least, finally, there was a beginning. And that promise to rebuild what had been lost was all you needed to start healing.

Ekko

That afternoon, it felt like the tension between you and Ekko was thicker than ever. You had been working together on a project, and the small jokes and dismissive attitudes from Ekko, which you usually let slide, began to affect you more than you expected.

"Wow, did you really think that was a good idea?" Ekko said, his biting tone making the sarcasm leave a bitter taste in his mouth.

Your breath became heavier, and although you tried to ignore it, something inside you snapped. You looked at him, furious, and without thinking twice, dropped the tool you had in your hands. "You know what? I'm leaving."

Ekko looked at you, somewhat surprised by your reaction, but before you could walk away any further, he let out a light laugh, as if nothing was happening. "What's up, got your period or something?"

That was the breaking point.

You stopped in your tracks, feeling a lump form in your throat. You turned to him with eyes shining with frustration. "You know what, Ekko? It's because of you. Because sometimes you don't seem to think about what you say, and you don't care how I feel."

Ekko furrowed his brow, trying to understand what you were saying, but before he could speak, you continued venting.

"You make me feel like my problems don't matter, like everything I do isn't up to your standards. Always so... so carefree, like you never have to think about how your words affect me. Have you ever thought about that?" Rage and pain built up in your voice as you spoke, but the words kept pouring out like an avalanche.

And then, without warning, what you hadn’t been able to say before came flooding out. "You know what's the worst? That I feel insecure, Ekko. I feel like I'm not good enough for you, like I'm not smart enough, not attractive enough... Because you never show jealousy, you never show anything. Like you never care. And that makes me doubt myself."

Ekko went silent, looking at your face in surprise, an expression that showed he finally understood what you had just said. The mockery from his previous joke faded, and his face shifted from confusion to deep seriousness.

"I... I didn't know you felt that way," he said finally, his words soft and filled with guilt. "I never meant to make you feel that way. I'm sorry, really. I'm not good at showing what I feel, I've never been."

He slowly approached you, not trying to interrupt the flow of your emotions. "You know, I grew up in a world where showing emotions was seen as weakness. Life never gave me time to process them. Since I was a kid, I was always at war, always on the move, always worried about surviving. But I never wanted that to affect you."

Your eyes softened a little as you listened to his words, and for a moment, the weight of frustration lifted slightly. "I... I didn't want you to think I cared less. It's just that sometimes, I get so caught up in my own stuff that I forget that the people close to me also have feelings. And I don't want you to feel belittled, I don't want you to feel like you're not enough."

There was a tense silence between you both, but something in his tone softened the atmosphere. "I'm sorry, really. It was never my intention to hurt you. You're incredible just as you are, and you make me feel like I can be more, like I can improve."

For a moment, everything seemed to calm down, but Ekko, with a mischievous smile, added, "And if it helps, yeah, I do worry a little when others look at you. But I'm not so good at showing jealousy."

You couldn't help but smile a little, even though you still felt the open wounds. Ekko, seeing this, moved a bit closer and gave you a gentle hug, as if it were a small gesture of comfort you so needed.

"I really care about you. I don't want you to feel insecure. I don't care if you're smarter or not, because what really matters to me is that you're you."

And before you could respond, Ekko joked with his usual playful attitude. "Although, if I ever catch you with someone else, you'd better be ready, because I’m not going to sit still."

You laughed despite everything, feeling the tension slowly disappearing, as if everything you had kept inside had finally found a way out.

"I love you too," you replied, as you hugged him again, knowing that, although the path wouldn’t always be easy, at least you both understood each other a little more.

Silco

Silco's office was shrouded in shadows, barely illuminated by the dim glow of a lamp on his desk. The phone conversation he was having was filled with frustration. "No, that won't work. We need something more decisive, something more substantial," he growled before hanging up with a sharp click that echoed through the wood.

From your position at the door, you could hear every word, feeling the tension in the air. You couldn’t help but intervene. "Maybe you could try..." you began, suggesting a plan you had come up with after hearing his problem.

Silco looked up at you, his cold, calculating eyes locking onto yours. "Shut up. You don't know anything about this," he snapped with disdain, his words cutting through you like a knife.

The coldness in his voice felt like a blow to the chest. Without saying another word, you turned around and stormed out of the office, slamming the door with a force that resonated down the hallway. Frustration burned in your chest as you climbed the stairs to your room.

Surprised by your reaction, Silco followed. Reaching the closed door, he knocked forcefully. "Open the door immediately!" he shouted, his tone a mix of anger and confusion.

"I won't! Go away!" you replied from inside, your voice trembling with both rage and pain. A sound from inside made his heart race. Fearing the worst, he broke down the door without thinking twice.

Inside, he found you packing your things with trembling hands. "What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his eyes fixed on you, trying to understand the magnitude of your decision.

"I'm done, Silco. Done with you not seeing me as someone capable of helping you, done with you constantly underestimating me," you declared, your voice trembling but resolute. "I’m a human being, just like you, and I can handle matters and plans. I’m not just a decoration in your world."

Silco scoffed, crossing his arms in impatience. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do you want me to buy you something? You look hysterical."

That was the breaking point. You turned to face him, your eyes fiery and filled with tears. "Silco, remember where you found me. I was a worker in that horrible brothel, sold by my parents at eleven. I thought that by freeing myself, I would have a voice, that finally someone would see me as an equal. But it’s not like that. You don’t even listen to me."

Silco looked at you, his eyes softening as the weight of your words sank in. He approached you cautiously, his fingers touching your cheek with an unusual tenderness. "It's not personal," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. "I’ve always been like this, I prefer to work alone. I’ve been through so much to earn respect in the Undercity that sometimes I minimize the opinions of others. But I never meant for you to feel this way, not you."

The wall of pain you had built began to crack under the weight of his words. "I’ll change. From now on, I’ll listen to what you have to say. In fact, tell me that plan you were going to propose earlier."

A pause lingered, but then, with a sigh, he added: "But before that, there’s something more important."

His words echoed in the silence before Silco took you by the waist, pulling you toward him. He kissed you with a passion that overflowed with unspoken apologies, a fire that spoke of promises of change and a renewed understanding between you both.

Mel

The luxurious bedroom was bathed in soft lights that enhanced the golden and ivory tones of the walls. You turned in front of the mirror, admiring how the dress flowed around your body, highlighting your curves and cascading elegantly in a fabric waterfall. The excitement of the night reflected in your eyes, waiting for Mel's approval.

When you stepped out of the dressing room, the smile on your lips quickly faded as you noticed the disapproving expression on her face. Mel looked you up and down, her gaze critical and stern. "Take it off," she ordered in a cold, distant tone. "Put on the one I chose for you."

You frowned, surprised. "Why? What's wrong with this one?"

"It’s not that there's anything wrong with it," she replied, crossing her arms with an air of authority. "It’s just not what I want for you tonight. Change your makeup and hairstyle as well. Something more sophisticated would be better."

The heat rushed to your cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and anger. "Nothing I do is good enough for you, right?" you exclaimed, your eyes sparking with indignation. "It feels like you always have to correct me."

Mel raised an eyebrow, her voice firm and unapologetic. "You should be grateful. I'm helping you make the most of your appearance. I need us to be perfect tonight."

"You mean you need to be perfect," you corrected, unbuckling your heels and throwing them to the floor with a sharp sound. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

Without waiting for a response, you made your way to the terrace, needing fresh air to calm the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside you. The cool breeze caressed your face as you leaned on the railing, trying to hold back tears.

It wasn’t long before Mel appeared behind you, her elegant silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. "Why are you acting like this?" she asked, her voice softer now, but still tinged with confusion.

"Seriously, Mel?" you turned to face her, your voice shaking with frustration. "Nothing I do seems right to you. You always correct me—the way I walk, the way I talk, and now even the color of my lipstick. It’s extreme and stupid."

Mel looked at you with a mix of surprise and reflection, as if your words had struck her for the first time. "I hadn’t thought of it that way," she finally admitted, her voice quieter. "I guess... I’m really hard on myself, and I project it onto others."

You took a deep breath, your eyes still shining with contained emotion. "I don’t want you to be like that with me. I’m not an extension of your standards, Mel."

Silence stretched between you for a moment before Mel took a step forward, enveloping you in a firm, comforting hug. "I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. You’re fine just as you are, and I apologize for projecting my insecurities onto you."

You leaned into her, feeling the tension slowly fade. "I understand," you replied softly. "I know you were raised to be perfect. But please, when you feel those things, communicate them in a different way. Don’t impose them."

Mel nodded, her gaze meeting yours with a mix of regret and affection. "I will," she promised. "Please, come with me to the party. Without you, I won’t have the strength to go."

You hesitated for a moment, looking at yourself with insecurity. Mel noticed and gently cupped your face in her hands. "That dress looks amazing on you," she said with a warm smile. "It highlights everything I love about you."

Her words and the kiss that followed dispelled any doubt, filling you with renewed confidence as you agreed to accompany her, knowing this time, you would go as yourself, not as a perfected version to satisfy Mel's standards.

Sevika

The apartment door opened slowly, revealing Sevika's figure in the dim light. She walked in with tired steps, the weight of the night reflecting on her shoulders. You, who had been waiting patiently for her return, stood up from the couch with relief, but as you approached to embrace her, something stopped you. A strange scent, sweet and foreign, emanated from her skin, a fragrance that didn’t belong to any perfume you knew her to wear.

Your heart raced as you took a slight step back, your eyes fixed on her. "Who were you with?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, although a mix of anxiety and distrust began to rise within you.

Sevika looked at you in surprise, not understanding the reason for your unease. "I was at the bar, drinking. My ex joined me, we talked a bit, had a good time." She said it with such casualness that every word pierced you like a poisoned dart.

Anger began to bubble up inside you. "Why are you talking about it so casually?" you spat, feeling your voice start to tremble.

She frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You shouldn’t have gone out with your ex!" you exclaimed, frustration coloring your words. "You owe me respect."

Sevika crossed her arms, her gaze hardening. "I do what I want," she replied coldly. "If you don’t trust me, maybe you should leave."

Your eyes widened at her comment. The idea of walking out that door tempted you, but sadness and rage kept you rooted to the ground. "Is that what you want?" you whispered, your voice shaking. "For me to leave?"

Sevika seemed to realize the weight of her words. She took a step toward you, extending her hand as if trying to stop you. "Wait, I didn’t mean that," she murmured, her tone softer, almost pleading. "You know I’m impulsive."

"Of course, impulsive... and nostalgic too," you replied bitterly, your eyes burning with contained pain. "You miss your ex, don’t you? You want to get back together with her?"

She frowned, stepping closer until her hands rested on your shoulders. "What’s your problem?" she asked, her voice low but firm. "Why are you saying all these things?"

The emotions you had kept under control for so long finally exploded. "Because I’ve been cheated on before!" you confessed, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "I know the patterns when I see them. I don’t want to feel stupid and used again."

The hardness in Sevika’s expression melted away, replaced by deep understanding. Her hands, once firm, slid down your arms in a gesture of comfort. "I’m not those people, you shouldn’t compare me to anyone," she said, her voice firm but full of empathy. "If I didn’t want to be with you, I would tell you. I don’t need to lie to anyone. I love you, only you."

Her sincerity pierced your insecurities, breaking down the wall of fear you had built. Still, doubts lingered. "Then why did you go out with her?" you asked, still needing an explanation.

"Because it was a coincidence," Sevika explained, her gaze sincere. "We ran into each other by chance, and I thought there was nothing wrong with sharing a couple of drinks. But now I see it bothers you, and I don’t want to do anything that makes you feel this way."

Her words resonated within you, slowly calming the internal storm. You nodded, allowing the warmth of her promise to envelop you. "I want to believe in you," you whispered.

Sevika stepped closer, her lips finding yours in a deep kiss, full of promises and silent regrets. When she pulled away, her soft voice broke the trance. "Are you better?" she asked, gently caressing your cheek.

"I'll be better when you take a shower and get that cheap perfume off," you joked, your tone still slightly irritated but with a hint of humor.

Sevika laughed, a low, guttural sound that echoed in the space between you. She pulled you by the waist, drawing you even closer. "Then I’m going to need your help," she whispered in your ear, her voice laden with seduction. "Tonight, I feel especially incapable."

Your smile widened, a spark of mischief lighting your eyes. "I guess I can help with that," you murmured, letting the intimacy of the moment take over, knowing that despite everything, you were in the place you wanted to be: by her side.

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley/female reader This is the last part before the epilogue

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise honey, remember?” You nod, but your eyes stay glued to the windshield, tracking the raindrops sliding on and off the glass. “Hey,” he reaches for your hand, pulling it into his grasp, “it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m with you.” You repeat the mantra, the one you repeat in the shower, in bed, in the living room. I’m safe. I’m with you. 

He wants to look away from the road so badly long enough to see your eyes, really see them. It’s how he knows where you are, if you’re there, or here, or somewhere else. Just in case, he reminds you. “The kids are with Gaz and Cami. Soap is sleeping in the guest room. They’re all together, and they’re safe.” You nod again, but answer as a robot.

“They’re safe.” He can’t do it. He pulls the car over and you turn in alarm, watching as he steps around to the passenger side door and pulls it wide, dropping to his knee.

“Look at me-“

“You’re getting wet!” You sputter, grabbing at his jacket, but he stills you.

“Look at me, mama.” Your eyes are full of tears, and he cups your cheek. “Where are you?” Your lip wobbles.

“That room.” He pries your fingers open and places your palm over his chest.

“What’s that?”

“Your heart.”

“Your heart, sweet girl. It’s yours. Count them for me.” You shake your head, clenching your eyes shut, and he squeezes your knee. “Deep breath. Count them.”

“O-one, two, thr-we, four…” he does it with you, quietly, supporting, but not coaching. Not leading. You have to do it, you have to bring yourself back. “F-ive… five, six, seven, eight, nine…” each beat steadies your voice until you’re sitting a little straighter, breathing a little deeper.

“There she is. There’s my girl.” He wipes a tear from your cheek, “that’s it.”

“Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen…” you reach twenty five, and then give him a nod. He is thoroughly soaked now, but who cares. It’s not even close to what matters.

“Where are you?” He presses a slow kiss to your forehead.

“I’m here, with you.” You meet his gaze, clear and focused, and he nods.

“Okay.”

“You could have told me.”

“Not as fun, mama, I wanted it to be a surprise.” You’re standing in the middle of the room, looking around, smiling. It’s the same room he brought you to years ago. The room where he put the ring on your finger, the room you told him you’d spend the rest of your life, his life, together. The curtains are the same, the decor, even the bedspread.

“Si,” your voice wavers, and he pulls you into his arms, holding you against his chest.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.”

You're surprisingly not nervous at all, though he's not that shocked. You have a few tattoos, medium sized, black and grey like his. No sleeves or anything that extensive, but you picked up a small collection during your travels. 

"Wait... are you serious?" You squeak, eyeing the chair and then the guy sitting beside it, Mark, the same guy that's done almost all of Simon's work. Simon's still not sure how he convinced him to come out here and do this, but he suspects the sentimental piece of this occasion had a lot to do with it. "What... what is it?" Simon glances at him, and then nods, holding his breath as he pulls the stencil out of the binder to lay it flat in front of you. 

It's a ring. Black and grey to match your other tattoos, but the same shape, band, everything, as the one you lost. Except- 

The stone frames three constellations. Orion, Phoenix and... "Lyra." You whisper, tracing the line work. You look up at him with tears in your eyes. "Orpheus and Eurydice." 

"Everyone says it's a tragedy, y'know? That he failed. But those people have never felt the way I feel about you." His throat is unbearably tight, and he swallows to keep it together. "They don't know how I'd go to hell to bring you home, they don't know how desperate I'd be to look back and and make sure you're still there with me," he breathes deep through his nose, chasing away the tidal wave rising in his chest. Mark, thankfully, has decided to pretend to be busy with something else. "They don't know how I'd let myself be ripped apart just to see you again. To spend eternity with you." 

"Simon..." 

"You don't have to do it," he rushes out, squeezing your hand, "just say so, and we'll leave. I won't be mad." You reach for him, tugging him close by his wrist and standing up on your tiptoes, trying to bury your face in his neck, seeking you safe space. 

"I love you. I love... I love you." He brushes your tears away. "I want it. Yes, of course. I want it." 

"You sure?" You cast one last look at the drawing, and nod. 

"Eternity with you." He smiles. 

"Eternity." 

[blessthosewhocurseyou]

I don't like it when the idea of Mary Sue makes new writers scared to expirements and do what they want - powerful characters can be a whole lot of fun and if you want to start your writing with a chosen one that's part vampire part werewolf part everything *go for it*. Like the risk of an overtly powerful characters writing wise is that it can make the writing harder, because if you've got a character who can defeat everything and then you wanna write action scenes it can be hard to challenge them. But I feel like sometimes the risk is perceived as "a bunch of people will harras me for writing sins" , and like it's a shame people have to worry about that. Expirementing is good writing practice and one of the best ways to get some intuition for what power levels will work well is to just play with it until you find a sweet spot

1st oc: hi im just a normal highschooler im kinda depressed but i swear im not a mary sue

30th oc:

[jjkamochoso]

JJK Men When They Get Jealous

Angst, fluff

Request from Wattpad

JJK Men x gn!reader

Warnings: slight cussing

A/N: some scenarios you're already dating, others you aren't!

Yuji:

“2 for Human Earthworm please!”

Yuji’s voice rang out as he bought tickets for your movie date. Your eyes gazed at his friendly face, standing close enough to his side to smell his cologne but not too close to impede his ability to pull out his wallet. Were you excited to see this movie for the umpteenth time? Not really, but it was a special anniversary release and Yuji was so pumped to watch it on the big screen again and you weren't going to ruin his fun. Besides, you couldn't say no to his adorable pouty face.

"Yuji! They have the special popcorn buckets here!" you exclaimed, catching a glimpse of the snack bar's offerings from your spot at the ticket counter. His eyes widened in shock.

"No way! They aren't sold out yet?" he asked incredulously. You moved from your place next to him and began speed walking over to the snack bar; there was no way he could miss out on this rare opportunity. Thankfully you had gotten in line when you did because there were hoards of people now queuing behind you, all eager to get their hands on the limited merchandise. When it was finally your turn, you were greeted by the worker, a boy who looked to be your age.

"Hello! What can I get for you today?"

"One earthworm bucket, please," you requested. He nodded, digging behind the counter. After what seemed like much too long, the employee finally procured what you were after.

"You're in luck! This is the last one," he said, handing it to you and giving you a smile. "Do you think I could be lucky enough to go on a date with you sometime?"

Surprised at his boldness, you let out a chuckle. "I don't think my boyfriend would like that very much."

"Your... oh."

You felt an arm land on your shoulders and knew it was Yuji.

"Awesome! You got the bucket!" he exclaimed to you, a huge grin on his face. "You're the best partner ever!" He then turned to the worker who busied himself with getting your popcorn. "I think I'm the lucky one here."

You internally laughed at Yuji's jealousy shining through. It was rare for him to feel that way, but when he did, he immediately made it clear to everyone that you two were happily exclusive.

When you eventually got to your seats in the theater, Yuji's arm never leaving you, you leaned over and gave his cheek a kiss. "You're cute when you're jealous."

"Me? Jealous? I wasn't..." He stopped when he noticed you eyeing him. "You're right. I'm sorry, that was dumb of me."

"No it wasn't. But there's no need to worry, you're the only guy I would ever willingly sit through the same movie a million and one times for."

Now it was Yuji's turn to give your cheek a kiss. "Like I said before, I'm the lucky one to be able to call you mine."

Megumi:

Your headphones were blaring your favorite song, drowning out the noise of the world around you. You were waiting for your boyfriend, Megumi, to meet you so you could explore Tokyo together. Swaying your head to the beat of the music, you didn’t register anyone standing near you until you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“It’s about time you got here,” you joked, taking your headphones off and turning to greet a familiar face. You weren’t expecting to see a stranger behind you and you slightly jumped from the shock.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the boy apologized, smiling gently. “I just wanted to ask you for some directions.”

“Oh, of course. I’m happy to help,” you responded.

“Great! I’m trying to get to this shrine.” The boy pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the screen displaying where he was trying to go. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Actually, yes. So what you want to do is go down this street…”

You told him the directions and typed it in his phone for him just in case he didn’t catch everything you said.

“I hope that helped,” you said, giving him his phone back. He glanced down and you could tell he gave the directions a once over.

“Everything alright?” you asked, seeing as he was hesitant to leave your side.

“I was hoping you had written your phone number in the notes too,” he told you. “I think you’re really cute.”

“Oh! I’m flattered, really, but I actually have a boyfriend.”

The boy was about to respond but all of a sudden his entire vibe changed; he was calm just a few moments earlier which was now replaced with nervousness.

“Right, right! Yeah, that makes sense. Um, thanks for the directions. I’m just gonna…”

The boy practically ran off, leaving you extremely confused. It wasn’t until you felt a menacing aura surround you that you realized the reason for the boy’s abrupt departure.

“That dumbass can’t find a shrine that’s not even a mile away and he wastes his time flirting?” grumbled Megumi, obviously irritated at your previous interaction.

“Jealous Fushiguro has made an appearance,” you teased, earning a glare from your dark haired boyfriend.

“I’m not jealous of a guy like that,” he argued, his defensive body language telling a whole other story from his words. You just shook your head and gave Megumi a quick kiss on his cheek.

“You’re the only one I could ever want. I promise.”

Megumi’s cheeks blossomed pink as he turned his focus away from you, looking into the distance.

“I know,” he mumbled, taking your hand in his. Now he was determined to make this the best date you’d ever been on—so much so that you wouldn’t remember giving that guy directions in the first place.

Yuta:

You and your friend Yuta decided to go ice skating together, wanting to have some stereotypical winter fun at the local rink. You two were deep in conversation until someone else’s voice and a tug at your scarf pulled you back into paying attention to your surroundings.

“I like your scarf,” a boy around your age said, smiling widely at you. “It’s almost as cute as you are.”

“Thank you,” you replied, a bit flustered, “that’s very kind of you.”

He chuckled and skated away, leaving you and Yuta alone again.

“Sorry about that, Yuta, what were you saying?”

He dove right back into where he left off, but his vibe was slightly off; he seemed upset for some reason. You didn’t mention it, figuring he might just be cold or something.

The boy who flirted with you kept skating by the entire session, shooting you winks or smiling at you. You didn’t notice Yuta glaring daggers at him from beside you.

Your time on the ice was about to expire so you and Yuta made one last circle, laughing at a joke you had made. You didn’t notice a dip in the ice and you stumbled backward. You hit the ground with a thud, slightly dazed from your fall.

“Are you alright?” Yuta asked, concern evident in his voice as he turned around to help you up. Unfortunately for him, the other boy was skating right behind you and was about to offer you his hand.

“Do you need-”

“Y/n! Let me help you up,” Yuta said, out of breath from skating as fast as he possibly could over to your position, grabbing onto your arm and hoisting you off the ice before the boy could even finish his sentence. He kept a protective grip on your body, scowling at the boy, until you were out of your skates and back into your normal shoes. Afterwards, you and Yuta walked to a local cafe for a much needed warm drink.

“Did you know that guy from somewhere? You didn’t seem to like him,” you observed.

“I don’t. He just… seemed like a jerk, that’s all,” he responded quickly, his voice higher than usual.

“Were you jealous?” you asked suddenly. Yuta’s face was now bright red and you didn’t think it was because of the cold.

“Me? I, uh… maybe?” he answered, unsure of the right thing to say. You looked at him expectantly, wanting him to elaborate.

“Well, you see, I…” Yuta sighed, defeated. “I really like you and I hated watching him flirt with you so brazenly. I know it was wrong of me to be so rude but I couldn’t stand the thought of you with him. I’m sorry.”

He kicked at a few rocks at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact with you.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Yuta,” you answered softly, catching his attention, “I really like you too.”

His eyes went wide. “You do?”

You nodded in affirmation as he let out a breath of relief, his shy smile shining brighter than the reflection of the sun on ice.

Inumaki:

It was a warm spring day and you were in the school’s garden, basking in the sun. You opened an eye to see who it was disturbing your peace with their footsteps, but it was Inumaki; you smiled kindly at him and made room for him on the bench. You two loved to sit together, often in silence, and observe the beauty of nature.

“Kelp,” he greeted softly, a small wave sent your way as he sat next to you.

“It’s always nice to see you, Toge,” you said back, closing your eyes once more as you breathed in the scent of flowers.

Like usual, his presence was a comfort to you and you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment, wanting nothing more than to rest your head on his shoulder in a display of your affection for him. Before you could let that happen, though, you heard another pair of footsteps approach and you quickly brought yourself out of your daydream.

“Hey Inumaki! Y/n!” Yuta called out, joining you in the garden.

“Yuta! Hello!” you greeted back while Inumaki waved at him.

“I can’t stay too long because I have to study but I brought something for you, y/n,” he said, smiling sweetly as he procured a tiny bag from his pocket, handing it to you. “They’re seeds. The owner of a shop I was at today was giving them out and supposedly the flowers are your favorite color so I figured you could plant them somewhere here in the garden.”

“Yuta! Oh my gosh, thank you!” you replied, giving him a hug in your excitement.

“It’s really nothing,” he said, a tiny blush appearing on his cheeks. “Well, I have to go, but I hope to see you both soon!”

You both bid him goodbye as you pocketed the seeds, eager to get the okay from the school to plant the flowers. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him but Inumkai seemed to have some sort of inner turmoil brewing after the short meeting; you could sense the hurt emanating from him.

“What’s wrong?” you wondered, curious as to what brought those feelings on all of a sudden.

“Cheesy,” was all he said, turning away from you.

“Aww, is someone jealous?” you asked with a chuckle.

“Bonito flakes,” Toge quickly grumbled, not meeting your gaze.

“You’re a horrible liar, you know,” you teased, pushing against his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be. Yuta’s not the one I have feelings for. You are, remember? Or do I have to confess all over again?”

You leaned over and tugged his collar down the slightest bit, planting a kiss on his cheek. Inumkai’s gaze landed on you once more as he gripped one of your hands tightly and typed on his phone with his other hand, saying:

I’m sorry, that was super lame of me. Yuta’s cool and that was nice of him to bring those for you. But TRUST it will be ME helping you plant those flowers.

And I’ll pick one to bring to you every morning when they’ve bloomed🙂‍↕️😌

“You really are my dream man,” you said, resting your head in his lap as you finally fell asleep in the comfort of the sun and Toge.

Noritoshi:

It was lunchtime at the Kyoto school and you found yourself in the shared kitchen with your classmate Noritoshi.

“Whatcha making?” you wondered, peering over his shoulder.

“Ramen,” came his answer, short and to the point as always. You watched him closely, taking in his every move.

“Do you not know how to cook and that’s why you’re staring me down?” he asked with a slightly annoyed expression.

“I do know how to cook, thank you very much. You’re just interesting to observe.”

Before he could ask what you meant by that, Todo came waltzing in.

“Todo! Just the person I wanted to see,” you greeted. “Do you want to make lunch with me?”

He heartily agreed and you two got to work, pulling out various pots and pans as Noritoshi finished making his own dish and sat down to eat. You and Todo were having the time of your lives, joking around and laughing while creating your meal. Noritoshi, on the other hand, was trying his best not to frown any more than he did on a usual day.

Or puke.

Noritoshi watched the way you lit up with Todo, having the time of your life doing something so mundane, and he desperately wished he wasn’t unnecessarily cold to you minutes earlier.

When your lunch was finally cooked, Todo took his food outside while you stayed in with Noritoshi, taking up the spot next to him. Normally he made some sort of remark about how loud or dirty you were in the kitchen, but today he was quiet.

“You seem bothered by something. Did I upset you?” you asked. His hair made a swishing noise as he turned to you.

“Why would you have upset me?”

“I don’t know. I always seem to, anyway,” you said with a tiny chuckle, taking a bite of your food.

“Not today, you didn’t. I’m dealing with something personal.”

“You can tell me if you want. I’m a person, you know.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes at your playful demeanor. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Because it’s about you, okay?”

His eyes grew wide when he realized he admitted that out loud. You chewed quietly, hoping he would continue.

“The way you and Todo effortlessly get along, I don’t understand it. I’m envious of your relationship with him. Sometimes I wish…” He stopped for a second. “All of the time I wish that was you and me. I want to be the one that makes your eyes light up like that.”

“Noritoshi, I never knew you felt that way,” you responded after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah, that was sort of my goal,” he replied, sheepishly rubbing at the back of his neck.

“I’ve actually had a crush on you for a long time,” you said bashfully, surprising him further. “Would you maybe wanna go out sometime? Like, on a date?”

“If you still have feelings for me after my lame confession,” a small smile appearing on his lips, “then I’d be even more of a fool to turn you down.”

Todo:

Standing in line to meet your favorite idol, you and Aoi were brimming with excited energy. You loved that you could bond with your boyfriend over your mutual love for Takada, including doing all of the super fan activities like waiting in line for hours on end. You turned around to look at the buildings behind you, wanting a view different from the one you’d been staring at since early that morning.

“Woah, seeing your face for the first time was like a breath of the finest spring air. You’re stunning,” said the man directly behind you in line. You couldn’t believe he was hitting on you with your six-foot-something, muscly beast of a boyfriend standing next to you, but you took the comment in stride—it didn’t hurt to be complimented by others every once in awhile! Todo never cared either, nor were you bothered by the looks of admiration he received from men and women alike while you two strolled any given street.

“You’re very kind, thank you,” you responded. He asked what your favorite song of Takada’s was, and from there you two engaged in small talk. He was super nice and very interesting, telling you facts about the various buildings in the downtown area you were at, along with lesser known Takada trivia.

“Next time Takada is in town,” he started, “we should go to the event together. If I could get your number-”

All of a sudden, Aoi turned around and cracked his knuckles, an intimidating look present on his face.

“You better back off or I’ll make sure all your teeth are missing in your meet and greet photo with Takada-chan,” he told the man, who let out a scared squeal, gulping and nodding. Aoi put a protective arm around your shoulder as he spun you forward once more.

“I never thought I’d see the day of you being jealous,” you teased, leaning your head against him.

“Me neither, but I guess that’s the only con of having such an attractive partner,” he replied, a determined expression on his face. “No one can get between my love for you and Takada-chan.”

Ino:

You were standing in line at a cafe with Ino, eager to get your hands on a warm drink to ease the bite of the winter chill. Snuggling up to the man next to you, you leaned your head against his shoulder while waiting in the impossibly long line. Ino gave your forehead a chaste kiss but pulled away in an instant.

“Babe! Your skin is freezing!” he all but yelled.

“You’re being dramatic,” you said with an eye roll. Without a second thought, he reached for your hands and, upon feeling the cold skin there as well, let go immediately.

“Your hands are freezing, too! Lemme buy you some gloves.”

“Ino, that’s really not necessary, I’m fine-”

“Be right back! Order for me, would ya?” he called out, leaving you shaking your head in amusement. That man would steal the sun for you if he thought you needed the extra light to read.

As you predicted, the line was at a standstill for quite awhile. You twiddled your thumbs as you waited for either Ino to come back and entertain you or for you to finally occupy your cold mouth with a hot drink. After many minutes of boredom, the line started moving and it was your turn to order. You told the employee the two drinks you wanted and paid, thanking him.

“What’s the name for the drinks?” he asked, eyeing you in a manner you found a bit suspicious.

“Y/n.”

“I’ll let you know when those are ready, y/n,” he answered, putting an uncomfortable emphasis on your name.

“…Yeah. Thanks,” you said apprehensively.

As you waited for the drinks to be made, you anxiously glanced around but there was no sign of Ino. Maybe gloves weren’t easy to find around this neighborhood?

After what felt like another eternity, your name was called and you approached the drink counter. The employee handed you the drinks and you tried to ignore the glaringly obvious phone number.

“Call me sometime, yeah?” he suggested, a smirk resting on his lips.

You glanced at the cup with his phone number scrawled on it, raising your eyebrows. “Thanks so much for that. Since this is his drink, I’ll let my boyfriend know you’re interested in him.”

“Oh-that’s not-I didn’t-” the employee floundered with embarrassment as you left with a laugh, taking your drinks to Ino who must have made his way back into the cafe sometime during the whole ordeal.

“Here’s a pair of gloves,” Ino greeted you, his smile not at all reaching his eyes like it normally does. You thanked him profusely as you set his drink in front of him and put on the gloves, relishing in the warmth they brought you.

“What’s wrong? You seem sad. Did something happen while you were out?” you questioned, worried for him.

“No, no. It’s nothing. I’m being dumb.”

You furrowed your brows and took a sip of your drink. “No way it’s nothing. I can tell something’s bothering you. I wanna help.”

“Well, I…” Ino stopped and took in a deep breath. “You were laughing with that employee and I see that he gave you his phone number and now I’m feeling a type of way about it.”

Ino looked away, almost ashamed as he sipped from his drink as well. You quickly reached for his unoccupied hand.

“Oh, Ino, you have it all wrong. I was laughing at him for putting his number on your drink. I certainly wasn’t interested in him and you have nothing to be jealous over.” You gave his hand a squeeze as his big eyes looked into yours. “You’re the only man I could ever want. You’re the one who treats me like royalty. Who else would brave the cold like you did to buy me a pair of gloves when I have too many pairs that I left at home?”

“Probably not that guy,” Ino mumbled, his cheeks pink.

“Definitely not that guy,” you said with a smile, bringing his hand to your lips and giving it a kiss. “Now, enjoy your drink. I had to brave his idiocracy to get it to you.”

Gojo:

You didn’t know what kind of gods were listening to you or what kind of magic you possessed, but somehow you managed to have both Gojo and Nanami over at your place for dinner one night. You were close friends with both and loved to hang out with them any time you could.

You and Nanami were currently chopping up vegetables while Gojo watched from afar, playing games on his phone. You and Nanami worked quietly and efficiently while Gojo huffed.

“Am I going to be banished over here forever?” he wondered.

“Yes,” you and Nanami answered in tandem, moving around each other perfectly as you dumped the vegetables into a pan and he put the scraps in the compost bin.

“It’s not fair. I’m an adult too, you know,” he complained. Nanami gave you a look before raising an eyebrow at Gojo.

“Are we sure about that?” he said, earning another grumble from Gojo.

“Satoru, you can help me cook the meat if you’d like,” you offered, not wanting to ostracize the poor man. It’s not his fault he’s horrible at cooking! Maybe if you supervised, he’d learn something today.

He learned that fire alarms are loud and you should never pour water on a grease fire.

“That could’ve gone… worse,” you reasoned, looking at the charred pile of what once was food in your pan.

Nanami pulled his apron off and his phone out. “I’m getting us takeout. I’ll be back in a half hour or so.” He pointed at Gojo as he stood in the doorway. “You better not burn this place down.”

When the door clicked closed, Gojo let out a long sigh as he put his head in his hands.

“I can’t believe I messed that up. You guys make cooking look so easy, especially when you’re in the kitchen together.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Satoru,” you told him, trying to salvage your pan, “we’ve cooked together a lot over the years. It doesn’t happen overnight.”

“The way you two moved together in sync. When I saw that I just wished it was…”

He didn’t finish his sentence, opting to rest his head against the table he was sitting at. You felt a tug at your heartstrings seeing him so dejected.

“Wished it was what?” you questioned, walking over to him and resting your hand on his back.

“Us,” he said plainly, lifting his head and blindfold up, his blue eyes sparkling. “I wish it was you and I like that. A team. Watching you and Nanami made me realize how much I want to spend my time with you, y/n. Be with you.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Are you serious?”

“For one of the first times in my life, yes,” he replied, his lips upturned in a smile.

You moved your hand from his back to his hair, ruffling it. “I’d like to be with you too, Satoru. We can figure out the logistics of what that means for us after our first task as a couple, which is to clean the pan you obliterated.”

“Can’t I just buy you a new one?” he groaned, standing up to help you.

“Nope.”

“I really do hate cooking.”

Geto:

With dropping temperatures came the chance for you to show off your warmest jackets as you strolled around the cold city streets. Today, you were wearing one of your favorites, made out of cozy, teddy bear-like fabric. You and Suguru had been walking along the streets together but he had stepped inside a shop to buy you both a hot drink. You opted to stand outside in the brisk air, enjoying the winter season to its fullest.

“Excuse me,” a man said, coming up to you, “I hate to bother you but I wanted to tell you I liked your jacket.”

“Oh! Thank you,” you replied, caught off guard by his compliment. He asked you a question and you two fell into conversation, the man helping you pass the time before your boyfriend was by your side once more.

“This might sound strange, but can I touch your jacket? It looks really soft,” he wondered, looking bashful.

“Go ahead,” you nodded, totally unbothered. He cautiously brought his fingertips to your arm and felt the fabric. Unfortunately for him, it was really bad timing.

“Step aside or I’ll rip your dirty fingers off your shameful hands one by one and force feed them to you,” Suguru chimed in, appearing before the man with a disconcertingly calm smile. The stranger scurried off, a look of horror stuck to his facial features, but he luckily survived this encounter with your boyfriend so you figured he’d be fine.

“Are you alright, my dear?” asked Suguru, handing you the two drinks while he straightened your jacket.

“I am, thank you. You’re scary when you’re jealous,” you observed, your stomach fluttering with butterflies over his display of protectiveness.

“Oh? That’s good to know,” he hummed airily, taking his drink in one hand and your hand in his other one. “That filth was lucky to escape with his life today. I was hesitant to do anything that might have spilled our drinks.”

“Thank you for this, by the way,” you said, gesturing to the cup.

“Anything for my one and only. Now, where did you buy that jacket? I’m going to get you a new one that’s unsoiled.”

Nanami:

“Y/nnnnn! I’m boredddd. You and Nanami should come shopping with me!”

Gojo was practically whining at you through the cellphone speaker. You rolled your eyes as you looked over at Kento, your boyfriend shoving his nose deeper into the morning newspaper he was reading.

“I don’t think Kento’s in the mood to go out right now, Satoru.”

“Well, how about you? C’mon, please?”

“Hold on. I’ll check with Kento.”

“Aww, do you need his permission-”

You ignored the teasing from the white haired man as Kento gave you a nod.

“That’s fine by me if you’d like to go. I have work to finish anyway.”

“Thank you,” you mouthed to him before answering Gojo. “Meet me at the train station in 10?”

“I’ll get there in 8,” he replied, ending the call. You gave Kento a kiss and left your shared apartment.

Late that evening you returned home, your arms full of bags.

“I take it you had a good time?” questioned Kento, his arms folded and eyebrows slightly raised. “You were gone quite some time.”

“Oh my gosh we had such a great time! Satoru took me everywhere. We started…”

As you recounted your day excitedly, Nanami’s heart felt heavier and heavier. Noticing his quietness, you stopped in your tracks.

“Kento? Are you alright?”

He sighed. “It’s nothing, really. It’s… juvenile.”

Your eyes softened as you took a seat next to him. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Another sigh. “You had a lovely outing with Gojo but I can’t remember the last time we had that much fun together. I’m… jealous of the way he has you smiling so much.”

“Kento, honey,” you soothed, putting your hand on his, “there’s no need to be jealous. Yes, my time with Satoru was exhilarating, but it was extremely exhausting. I much prefer the fun you and I have together; the kind that’s comfortable and familiar. You make me smile first thing in the morning all the way to the time I sleep and even in my dreams. You’re my favorite person to be with in this whole world and I’m sorry if my actions led you to assume otherwise.”

“You’re right. I was being silly. I’m sorry, too,” he said, the tips of his ears turning red from embarrassment.

“Hey, I got you a little something when I was out,” you told him, reaching into one of your bags. You pulled out a box and gave him a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much,” he murmured against your lips, pulling you in close.

Choso:

After looking through the peephole, you answered your door with a warm smile.

“Please, come in!”

Your landlord had come to collect your rent. He was a good natured guy with a kind wife and new baby; his apartment complex was nice as well, as was the reasonable price he charged per month so you had no complaints. You always liked to make small talk with him while you procured the envelope of cash you had lying around since he made for good company. You two spoke for a little while before you opened the door and said goodbye, knowing your boyfriend Choso should be coming up your steps at any moment.

All Choso saw as he walked up your stairs was a handsome young man leaving your apartment, making you laugh on his way out.

He didn’t like it.

At all.

“Who might you be?” he questioned the man, his voice carrying an underlying tinge of displeasure.

Your landlord put his hand out for Choso to shake. “I’m-”

“I’m Choso, y/n’s boyfriend,” he said with a glare, putting an emphasis on the last word. “We’ve been together for a while. A long while. Just so you know.”

“Choso,” you interjected before things could get any more awkward, “this is my landlord.”

Like a light was switched on in his brain, Choso’s eyes widened and he grasped your landlord’s hand that was still stretched out.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he told him sheepishly, obviously embarrassed.

“You as well, Choso. If you’ll both excuse me, I have to get home to my wife and child. Have a great rest of your morning.”

As your landlord left down the steps, Choso was already inside, slumped on the couch.

“I’m such an idiot,” he groaned. You let out a tiny giggle.

“You went in pretty strong there, but I can’t say I blame you. It must’ve looked weird seeing a guy come out of my apartment so early in the morning. I would’ve been jealous too if I were in your shoes.”

“I wasn’t jealous!” he replied.

You raised your eyebrows. “Really? The way you emphasized boyfriend? Saying we’ve been together a long while? I would’ve thought you were going to fight him if I didn’t intervene.”

“I would’ve,” Choso spoke without hesitation.

“If he ever raises the rent,” you said, kissing his cheek, “I’ll gladly support that.”

Toji:

You were on your way to have lunch with your friend Toji when an attractive man your age waltzed up to you and struck up conversation as you walked to the cafe. Since you were single and he was cute enough, you let him entertain you on your journey. You could tell he was turning on the charm as much as he could, making you laugh at his silly quips. That lasted all the way until you bid him farewell when Toji came into view. Looking dejected at the goodbye, your admirer sauntered away.

“I didn’t get his number,” you thought to yourself, “what a shame. Oh well.”

You greeted Toji with a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you.

“I’m starving! Let’s order,” you told him, already browsing the menu the restaurant had posted outside.

“After you then,” Toji replied, opening the door for you.

You both ordered your food at the counter and sat at a table, talking about what you both had been up to in the time you hadn’t seen each other. You noticed Toji’s gaze wander away from you every so often, but you thought nothing of it—he had a very protective nature so he was probably keeping an eye on people he deemed suspicious. You got your answer of who he was watching at the end of your meal when your story about dinner with your friends was interrupted by Toji’s booming voice.

“What the fuck are you lookin’ at, huh?” Toji asked aggressively to someone over your shoulder. You looked over to find the man that was flirting with you had taken up a seat in the booth diagonal to you and Toji, and must have been staring at you throughout your lunch.

“Oh, now you wanna act coy? You were a big man the past half hour, eyeing them up,” he snarled, jabbing a thumb your way. “We got a problem or not?”

“No! No problem, sir!” The man all but ran out of the restaurant, not even sparing you a second glance. You rolled your eyes at his cowardice; he’d never find a partner if he couldn’t find his backbone. Toji leaned back into his seat, crossing his arms in annoyance.

“Now I can finish my meal in peace. It was difficult to eat in the presence of that lovesick loser.”

“Hey,” you scolded, “is it that sickening to know someone has a crush on me?”

“Yeah, actually, it is,” he responded, leaning in. “I don’t want to see another man looking at you like that.”

You furrowed your brow. “Another man-? Toji, are you jealous or something?”

“What? No, no way. That’s ridiculous,” he said defensively, but you noticed the way he started shoveling food into his mouth to avoid further conversation.

“So if I said that guy flirted with me the entire walk over here? That wouldn’t make you feel anything?”

“I’d feel annoyed that he bothered you,” he said between bites of his meal.

“And if I wasn’t annoyed? If I liked him coming onto me strongly like that, if he gave me his phone number?”

Toji’s fists clenched at that. “He better not have.”

“What would it matter to you?” you challenged, not backing down.

“Fine! Maybe I do like you. So what?” he barked. “It makes me angry that guys approach you. If that’s jealousy, then yeah, I’m jealous. Now, will you stop your interrogation like I’m some sorta kid in trouble?”

A grin showed up on your face with this newfound knowledge. “Last question, Mr. Fushiguro: what would you do if I said I liked you too?”

He finally looked up from his bowl of noodles. “I’d ask if you were being serious.”

“I am.”

Toji put his chopsticks down and smirked. “In that case, I’d kiss you like I’ve been wanting to for a long time now and then chase down the dude that thought he could get away with flirting with my partner like that.”

[metanarrates]

Hello. Sorry if this a stupid question u can ignore if u want.

How can someone get better at media analysis? Besides obviously reading a lot.

Im asking this bc im in a point where im aware of my own lack of tools to analyze stories, but i don't know where to get them or how to get better in general. How did you learn to analyze media? There's any specific book, essay, author, etc that you recommend? Somewhere to start?

I'm asking you because you are genuinely the person who has the best takes on this site. Thank you for you work!

it sounds like a cop-out answer but it's always felt like a skill I acquired mostly thru reading a ton, and by paying a lot of attention in high school literature classes. because of that I can't promise that I'm necessarily equipped to be a good teacher or that i know good resources. HOWEVER! let me run some potential advice to you based on the shit i get a lot of mileage out of

first off, a lot of literary analysis is about pattern recognition! not just pattern recognition in-text, but out-of-text as well. how does this work relate to its genre? real-world history? does it have parallels between real-life situations? that kind of thing.

which is a big concept to just describe off the bat, so let me break it down further!

in literature, there is the concept of something called literary devices - they are some of the basic building blocks in how a story is delivered mechanically and via subtext. have you ever heard of a motif? that is a literary device. it's a pattern established in the text in order to further the storytelling! and here is a list of a ton of common literary devices - I'd recommend reading the article. it breaks down a lot of commonly used ones in prose and poetry and explains their usage.

personally, I don't find all the literary devices I've learned about in school to be the most useful to my analytical hobbies online. motifs, themes, and metaphors are useful and dissecting them can bring a lot to the table, but a lot of other devices are mostly like fun bonus trivia for me to notice when reading. however, memorizing those terms and trying to notice them in the things you read does have a distinct benefit - it encourages you to start noticing patterns, and to start thinking of the mechanical way a story is built. sure, thinking about how the prose is constructed might not help you understand the story much more, but it does make you start thinking about how things like prose contribute to the greater feeling of a piece, or how the formatting of a piece contributes to its overall narrative. you'll start developing this habit of picking out little things about a text, which is useful.

other forms of in-text pattern recognition can be about things like characterization! how does a character react to a certain situation? is it consistent with how they usually behave? what might that tell you about how they think? do they have tells that show when they're not being trustworthy? does their viewpoint always match what is happening on screen? what ideas do they have about how the world works? how are they influenced by other people in their lives? by social contexts that might exist? by situations that have affected them? (on that note, how do situations affect other situations?)

another one is just straight-up noticing themes in a work. is there a certain idea that keeps getting brought up? what is the work trying to say about that idea? if it's being brought up often, it's probably worth paying attention to!

that goes for any pattern, actually. if you notice something, it's worth thinking about why it might be there. try considering things like potential subtext, or what a technique might be trying to convey to a reader. even if you can't explain why every element of a text is there, you'll often gain something by trying to think about why something exists in a story.

^ sometimes the answer to that question is not always "because it's intentional" or even "because it was a good choice for the storytelling." authors frequently make choices that suck shit (I am a known complainer about choices that suck shit.) that's also worth thinking about. english classes won't encourage this line of thinking, because they're trying to get you to approach texts with intentional thought instead of writing them off. I appreciate that goal, genuinely, but I do think it hampers people's enthusiasm for analysis if they're not also being encouraged to analyze why they think something doesn't work well in a story. sometimes something sucks and it makes new students mad if they're not allowed to talk about it sucking! I'll get into that later - knowing how and why something doesn't work is also a valuable skill. being an informed and analytical hater will get you far in life.

so that's in-work literary analysis. id also recommend annotating your pages/pdfs or keeping a notebook if you want to close-read a work. keeping track of your thoughts while reading even if they're not "clever" or whatever encourages you to pay attention to a text and to draw patterns. it's very useful!

now, for out-of-work literary analysis! it's worth synthesizing something within its context. what social settings did this work come from? was it commenting on something in real life? is it responding to some aspects of history or current events? how does it relate to its genre? does it deviate from genre trends, commentate on them, or overall conform to its genre? where did the literary techniques it's using come from - does it have any big stylistic influences? is it referencing any other texts?

and if you don't know the answer to a bunch of these questions and want to know, RESEARCH IS YOUR FRIEND! look up historical events and social movements if you're reading a work from a place or time you're not familiar with. if you don't know much about a genre, look into what are considered common genre elements! see if you can find anyone talking about artistic movements, or read the texts that a work might be referencing! all of these things will give you a far more holistic view of a work.

as for your own personal reaction to & understanding of a work... so I've given the advice before that it's good to think about your own personal reactions to a story, and what you enjoy or dislike about it. while this is true that a lot of this is a baseline jumping-off point on how I personally conduct analysis, it's incomplete advice. you should not just be thinking about what you enjoy or dislike - you should also be thinking about why it works or doesn't work for you. if you've gotten a better grasp on story mechanics by practicing the types of pattern recognition i recognized above, you can start digging into how those storytelling techniques have affected you. did you enjoy this part of a story? what made it work well? what techniques built tension, or delivered well on conflict? what about if you thought it sucked? what aspects of storytelling might have failed?

sometimes the answer to this is highly subjective and personal. I'm slightly romance-averse because I am aromantic, so a lot of romance plots will simply bore me or actively annoy me. I try not to let that personal taste factor too much into serious critiques, though of course I will talk about why I find something boring and lament it wasn't done better lol. we're only human. just be aware of those personal taste quirks and factor them into analysis because it will help you be a bit more objective lol

but if it's not fully influenced by personal taste, you should get in the habit of building little theses about why a story affected you in a certain way. for example, "I felt bored and tired at this point in a plot, which may be due to poor pacing & handling of conflict." or "I felt excited at this point in the plot, because established tensions continued to get more complex and captured my interest." or "I liked this plot point because it iterated on an established theme in a way that brought interesting angles to how the story handled the theme." again, it's just a good way to think about how and why storytelling functions.

uh let's see what else. analysis is a collaborative activity! you can learn a lot from seeing how other people analyze! if you enjoy something a lot, try looking into scholarly articles on it, or youtube videos, or essays online! develop opinions also about how THOSE articles and essays etc conduct analysis, and why you might think those analyses are correct or incorrect! sometimes analyses suck shit and developing a counterargument will help you think harder about the topic in question! think about audience reactions and how those are created by the text! talk to friends! send asks to meta blogs you really like maybe sometimes

find angles of analysis that interest and excite you! if you're interested in feminist lenses on a work, or racial lenses, or philosophical lenses, look into how people conduct those sort of analyses on other works. (eg. search feminist analysis of hamlet, or something similar so you can learn how that style of analysis generally functions) and then try applying those lenses to the story you're looking at. a lot of analysts have a toolkit of lenses they tend to cycle through when approaching a new text - it might not be a bad idea to acquire a few favored lenses of your own.

also, most of my advice is literary advice, since you can broadly apply many skills you learn in literary analysis to any other form of storytelling, but if you're looking at another medium, like a game or cartoon, maybe look up some stuff about things like ludonarrative storytelling or visual storytelling! familiarizing yourself with the specific techniques common to a certain medium will only help you get better at understanding what you're seeing.

above all else, approach everything with intellectual curiosity and sincerity. even if you're sincerely curious about why something sucks, letting yourself gain information and potentially learning something new or being humbled in the process will help you grow. it's okay to not have all the answers, or to just be flat-out wrong sometimes. continuing to practice is a valuable intellectual pursuit even if it can mean feeling a tad stupid sometimes. don't be scared to ask questions. get comfortable sometimes with the fact that the answer you'll arrive at after a lot of thought and effort will be "I don't fully know." sometimes you don't know and that can be valuable in its own right!

thank you for the ask, and I hope you find this helpful!

[palskippah]

PLEASE I NEED SOMEONE TO DRAW AMBS AND BAL (MOVIE VERSION) ON THEIR WEDDING DAY KISSINF AGHHHH

HII I'm not good at drawing people kissing in the lips but I got these!!

References and some thoughts under the cut!

-One of the ways I imagine them marrying is through the civil (? whatever it's called in English), where Nimona would be right behind Ballister when he's signing like, sign, Ballister, sign the contract now! like that scene in Shrek 4 with Rumpelstiltskin

-Neither of them carried a bouquet, but they got one anyways just to throw it (Ambrosius did)

-Apparently in some Mexican weddings they throw the groom in the air to celebrate him and I love the idea, so both Ballister and Ambrosius get thrown in the air djfkdf

>(better if they're part of the crowd that is throwing them, and then it's them catching eachother when they fall aaa)

-Also the dancing, imagine it with any sort of music in the background and both of them dancing together and then just deciding to have fun on their own and doing whatever dance moves, even if they have nothing to do with the music (like there's cumbia sounding and Ambrosius is doing the gangnam style and Ballister is throwing it back or something 😭)

-They have a lot of fun wooo

-Also wanted to draw them in traditional clothes too wiwiw I hope you know what I mean with the 'groom pose' sjdksd both hands held in front of them

-Based this (unfinished) thingy on a TikTok I saw of 'if I (anxious person) were to get married' and thought of both of them but drew it with Ambrosius.

-It goes like:

Ambrosius: Hey! So- Just wanted to confirm, is the wedding still on? (Ballister answers) Ambrosius: Yes? (Ballister says something) Cool! I'll see you there then! Ambrosius, in his blue wedding clothes: I'll be the guy in blue. (Ballister says something) Yeah! Okay, bye, love you :D

>And at the other end of the thing, there was Ballister all nervously rambling to a very bored Nimona about what if Ambrosius calls it off last minute? Or what if he regrets marrying me right now? I can't just ask either, that'd be- and then there's the call and he's like, yes, it's still on! :D Yes I know, and remember I'll be wearing a dark sherwani. See you there, love you too :D

>And then they're both a bit more relaxed with that sjdfks (they're some rooms away from each other)

>[btw, those are supposed to be Ambrosius' moms helping him get the final details in his clothes done, like patting him to iron out the sleeves (they're ironed already) and placing his headwear and stuff]

-They're still pretty nervous tho, so, based in a video I watched, imagine them like:

Person marrying them: Now, I, Ballister. Ballister and Ambrosius, at the same time: I, Ballister- Ballister: ? I'm Ballister. Ambrosius: No, it's me. Ballister: Oh, okay. Ballister: No, wait what--

-Ambrosius: Hi, I'm Ballister's husband :D

>Ambrosius: This is my husband, Ballister. We're married :DD

>Ambrosius: We're the Goldenhearts :DDD

>>

-(some of the references)

That's it!

[magnoliapromenadegalleria]

I take no issue with monetizing cc. You release good content and have an agreeable release window, I either choose to subscribe, or I wait. Cool. What I do take issue with is this

Perma-paywalls or ridiculous early access release windows. Anything exceeding thirty days is excessive. My opinion.

2. New creators setting up immediate early access. The skillset is just not there yet to put a price on your creations. You barely have a base to sell to. This includes creators who created for other games, then come over to The Sims and try to sell to us. For example, the creator that makes skins and admitted they don't even play the game. Simply here for profit.

3. Creators that do not qc their work, or steal from other creators. Girl.

4. Customer service. Once you start creating for profit, whether it be supplemental or your main source, you have to have a level of customer service and professionalism. You have now started a brand. A very niche brand, but that's what it is. You cannot be short with people for asking valid questions and catching an attitude with them. Like that one lady with the tree coming out in February. If you are one of those rare creators who is lucky enough money to hire someone to handle your social media, I suggest you do that. Or supply a friend with more patience with their favorite coffee or something and let them handle it. Something.

5. Not interacting with the community you are trying to sell to. Connect with people. Repost their edits, lookbooks, builds, leave comments, give a like. The creator mentioned above commented that no one comments on their stuff, at least not here. Fair. This community does not talk like it used to, but to each other like it used to, but you can go to creator pages and see that they are perfectly curated advertisements. Like a showroom. No reblogs of anyone using their content. If you want that for your main page fine, but at least have another side blog where you can do the outlined above.

6. Pushing something out just to push it. I think we have entered a space, both creator and follower/consumer, where everything feels so fast-paced. What's the new thing coming out, what's next, etc. So much so that I think it has made creators push out content just to keep up, especially if they rely on that income. This has resulted in some creators getting into hot water for releasing the same item(s) in different sets and in different colors. Or creators releasing duplicates of the same thing. It can be frustrating, but I question if it is because they're just trying to keep up, or afraid to try something new or different in fear of it not doing well. Some smaller creators who create different content don't get as much love and I question if they would receive more if they followed the wave, or were big enough to start one.

Now to this community

If a creator disrespects you or others or moves in a way that you don't fundamentally agree with, and you complain but still download and or advertise their content, you're moving counterproductive to your plight. Why would anyone reflect on themselves when you prove that you're going to advertise their content anyway?

2. Show love to these creators. Big and small, especially small, monetized or not. Everyone likes to hear or see that what they release is valued. Don't harass or disrespect creators if they take a break, or they don't get something out quickly. Especially the modders.

3. Interact with each other. Even if your aesthetics or different. This is a community. If you see something you like, LIKE IT. Share it, leave a comment.

4. Create the thing simmer. The edit, cc, build, lookbook, whatever. Create the thing and share the thing. Even if it isn't part of a popular trend or aesthetic.

I'm speaking about myself here too because I want to better about this.

I want this to feel fun again. Not just based on what is in at the moment.

This might be read. Might not. Just my two Abes. Anyway I'm about to make some soup from scratch. Toodles!

[suiana]

❝ I Reincarnated Into a Shitty Chirstmas Romance Movie and My Love Interest is a Yandere?! ❞

✎ featuring my creature, Ezra Valentine :3 this is just ezra being a weirdo, some lore for my game? idk blawg just read it and you'll find out

✎ special shoutout tags to these people @yandere-yearnings @forbidden-sunlight @moyazaika @bun3333s @yanderenightmare @cumtastiics @ozzgin

Your "childhood friend" is a bit of a weirdo, you think.

Staring at you for far too long, lingering touches that suggest that he's more than just a bit interested in you, and the weird random confessions about how he wants to get crushed under the heel of your right shoe...

It's just weird.

You've reincarnated into a shitty christmas romance movie. And your "childhood friend", aka the love interest, aka Ezra Valentine, has a crush on the main character, you. Obviously.

You don't even know why you watched this movie in the first place. Boredom, maybe? Yeah, probably was because you started dozing off after hour 1 of the movie. The movie was... 1 and a half hour long? It wasn't even rated that high. Like a... 6.9 at best.

And now you're stuck here all because you watched this shitty movie with an even shittier plot. Where the main character left the small town for a big city, came back home to celebrate christmas and meets childhood friend, decides to give up big city life because they both fall for one another.

Just like every other damn Mallhark movie. Predictable, boring, absolutely TRASH.

You don't even know why or how you got reincarnated into this damned movie in the first place! Did you fucking pass away in your sleep??? Actually just die from fucking boredom???

Well it's no use thinking about that now because you've been stuck in here for a while now. You think that you're maybe about halfway through the original plot, where Ezra and the old mc were supposed to have some bonding time together and shit. But that's not the case now, because you've changed the plot.

And you're realizing that this "childhood friend" of yours... Is acting a little bit differently.

You don't remember him being that much of a weirdo in the original movie. If you remember correctly,he was just like, a little bit of a shy loser boy who was infatuated with the MC and liked gaming. But now... Now he's, what, a masochist? Or did they just not add that fact into the movie? You couldn't have forgotten. If the love interest was openly a weirdo like he is to you, you wouldn't have dozed off in the first place. Just now, he literally asked to be crushed under your right shoe. Crushed. Under. Your. Shoe. How the hell is that boring? You'd be 101% AWAKE. You love freaks more than anything, damn!

Now that you think about it, he's more than just a bit of a weirdo.

He's been calling and acting like he's your boyfriend. Hell, he acts like a CLINGY boyfriend too. Asking where you're going, clinging to you, giving you those damned boba eyes everytime you talk to others, specifically dudes. Fun fact but you wish he'd stop abusing those eyes of his because fuck, how can you resist him when he's looking at you like that?

Worse of it all, you can't do anything. Not when your key out and helper, Ai, said to act cool and to not arouse any suspicion from him.

Ai's also another character in this movie by the way. His character trope: the hot side character that barely gets screentime and is also sentient. And right now, he's helping you find a way back to your world... Meanwhile you've been stuck in Ezra's apartment under the guise of a mandatory childhood bestie sleepover.

It's been days since you've actually last seen Ai in person because of how much Ezra, your "childhood friend", has been clinging to you. In just the past 3 days, he's made you watch the entire fnaf lore theory THRICE. And not once have you stepped outside his apartment. Not because you don't want to, but because he'd always find some bullshit excuse to keep you with him.

"O-oh but kitty you'd miss this very important scene... Where freddy goes hurhurhuhr"

"Kitty! Kitty you can't leave now! We have to watch it again! What? We watch it more times so it gets engrained into our brains! That's just common sense!"

"Keeping you h-hostage?! I'm not! All friend do this! It's just u-um, friend bonding time! We haven't been around each other in so long you know..."

It's weird. Just plain weird.

Thankfully you still have your phone so you could occassionally sneak a message or two to Ai, informing him of your current situation. As long as that black haired man baby doesn't see everything is fine...

y/n: currently watching a new video, thank gyatt for that

y/n: would actually jump if i have to watch more fnaf

y/n: erm... lowkey think this is worse though... its a video about danganronpa

Ai: don't worry, i'll be there to save you in a bit

Ai: i might have found a way to get you out of here

y/n: fr? ty for that silly goober :3 all while im chilling on the couch having some me time :333 ur so skibidi

"A-ahem! y/n who are you texting..?"

Shit. This damned guy! What does he think he's doing? Just popping up the second you finally have some alone time?! Wasn't he passed out from lunch just minutes ago???

"Erm... Just a friend?"

Ezra stares at you with wide round eyes, lps turning down into a frown before he sits uncomfortably close, pressing his long, lanky body against yours. Always the tall skinny guys that are the biggest weirdos man.

"Just a... friend?"

"Yeah, just a friend."

I mean, it wasn't wrong. Ai really was just a friend to you. Or at least that's what you think. To Ezra and his fucked up mind... Maybe you were abandoning him? And now he's jealous and might want to go batshit crazy on AI?

Haha! No way that would happen! Ezra, no matter how crazy he is, wouldn't go that far! He's just a loser who has an added interest in you now after all!

The look in his eyes say otherwise though.

"But I'm your friend, aren't I?"

Cold, dark, obsessive.

The way he stared at you sent literal chills down your spine. He had never looked at you in such a way before. Pathetic and needy, yes. But never this... Whatever the hell this was.

You back into the fabric of the seat, feeling a cold sweat line the skin of your forehead. All of a sudden, the room feels all too small and it's like you're trapped in his apartment with no way to escape.

It was suffocating.

"I'm the only friend you need. The only one you need, y/n."

You don't really recall a time where he's called you y/n so easily. It's always some stupid petname like kitty. And goddamn it, you wish he'd just say that instead. Hearing him call your name while he's staring into your very soul like this is making you feel like you're about to shit your pants.

"U-uh, okay dude chill out. You're my dearest friend, alright? Look let's jsut go back to watching that danganronpa analysis..."

And just like that, the terrifying aura IMMEDIATELY disappears and you're left with a sopping wet puppy of a man. You decide to make the first move, fiddling with the remote as you stand up and move close to the coffee table. Anythinng to gte away from this weird bipolar guy. How the hell did he develop this? A new character arc maybe?

In the midst of you trying to look anywhere but Ezra, you fail to realize that he had already taken your phone, leaving you with no way to contact Ai now.

"Now you'll never have another friend again..."

"What was that?"

"O-oh I said now you'll never be bored again! Haha!"

Right, totally what he said.

[banananutmuffin28]

hii if u take reqs could u plsss write a wlw semi x fem reader college au where reader and semi are roommates but don’t get along well bc semi is loud/disruptive and always bringing girls over but over time semi falls for reader as they get closer and gets jealous when someone makes romantic advances towards the reader? happy ending and with a reader that has a sweet and cute kind of personality if that’s ok! so sorry if this is too much for a req 😭😭 tysm 🫶

A/N: YESSS! So sorry this took so long! I was a bit fatigued from work, haha.

Se-Mi x FEM! Reader—College AU

You were quite never fond of loud noises.

The distaste stemmed from when you were very little. You always hid away during thunderstorms and cried when the gongs of the lion dances grew too loud.

As you grew, it would become more manageable, but your dislike of it was always still there, lingering in the shadows.

You were the quiet type of girl who'd rather spend her nights curled up around a television, rather than spend her time partying outside.

Being surrounded by the pillows and gentle quiet made you feel safe.

And so, with this knowledge in mind, of course the universe decided to give you the most annoying and irresponsible roommate ever.

Se-Mi.

You knew she was trouble from the very moment you met her.

You purse your lips. You could still recall that time, even now.

She was dressed in a leather jacket and blue jeans. One hand gripped the case of a guitar, while the other was combing through her short hair. She didn't seem too interested in you, rather, it seemed like she merely wanted to get the pleasantries out of the way so that she could go off into her own little world.

You already knew she was a huge fan of piercings. There was one on her lip, one on her nose, and when she started to introduce herself you could catch glimpses of one on her tongue.

And, if her attire was truly the only odd thing about her, then you could live with that.

After all, who were you to dictate how other people dressed?

But, that wasn't the end of it. Hell, it was only the beginning.

For starters, Se-Mi’s room was always half-open, allowing the heavy metal music on her speaker to bleed out into the rest of the dorm. 

You had tried asking her to dial back the volume multiple times, but it never really helped.

It seemed the two of you had very different definitions of the word, “quiet.”

And, what was more, Se-Mi was not bashful about her appearance. At all.

You flush, remembering multiple times when she would simply stroll right out of the shower in only her bra and a pair of very short shorts. You remember once when she had walked straight into the kitchen like that while you were frying eggs.

The sight of her toned stomach and the faint outlines of her abs made you blush. And fuck, were her arms always so muscular?”

You didn’t notice the acrid smell until it was too late.

Later that night during dinner, Se-Mi blurted out, “How the hell did you manage to burn scrambled eggs?”

Se-Mi’s music taste and lax boundaries weren’t the only things that clashed with your own.

She was also a party girl.

At first, she hadn’t visited many, and the few she did frequent never stole her away for more than a few hours.

But then summer hit.

And, from then onward, Se-Mi would always come home at an ungodly hour, smelling of liquor and with her arm wrapped around a girl.

The first time you had seen her like this, you screamed, more for her sake than yours.

"Se-Mi! What the hell are you doing at this hour? And who the hell is with you?"

The other woman merely shrugged, lips curling into a lazy grin as she ignored your question to whisper something into the stranger's ear.

The girl turned a bright shade of red, and then scurried into Se-Mi's room.

You scowled.

Great, so your new roommate was a womanizer.

"Oh, don't worry about it sweetheart. I'm just having some fun," SeMi cooed, stepping over to pinch your cheek.

You wrinkled your nose and swatted her hand away.

Se-Mi pouted.

"And besides," She continues, gesturing a hand towards you, "What gives you the right to lecture me about being up at this hour while you yourself are out of bed?"

You could barely hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

Running a hand along your neck, you pointed to your frizzled hair and tired eyes.

"Your loud footsteps woke me up, genius."

Normally, you were never this rude to strangers, and certainly not so quickly after meeting them. 

But, something about Se-Mi sparked a fire inside you, prompting you to snipe back.

And besides, it wasn't as if she was making any effort to be nice to you.

Unrepentant, Se-Mi waved her hand dismissively.

"Sorry, didn't know you were a light sleeper. I'll be careful next time," She said, in a tone that made you think she definitely wasn't going to be careful next time.

Before you could think of a retort, she began walking away.

"Sorry, sweetheart,” She purred, wiggling her long fingers into the air. “I can't talk for long. I got a girl to see."

As she strolled to her room and shut the door, you let out a loud exhale.

This was going to be a long night.

–

Yesterday, you learned approximately two things about your roommate. One: She was apparently great at sex, and Two: Whoever she brought over could not keep her damn trap shut.

You already knew you looked like a walking zombie before Mi-Na called you out on it.

"Hey girl!" She chirped, skipping up to you with a perkiness that made you jealous. She paused when she got closer, eyebrows drawn up in concern, "You doing okay? You look like a sick bear chewed you up then spat you back out."

You looked at her wearily.

"What gave it away?"

Mi-Na shook her head incredulously.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's how you're literally hunched over like you're suddenly in your eighties and your skin became five layers paler?" Mi-Na grabbed a strand of your hair, appalled. 

"What happened to your shine? Your morning smiles?"

You barked out a laugh.

“It’s just my roommate. She brought a girl over at 2 AM in the morning and the thin walls did a terrible job concealing their concerning noises.”

The brown haired girl jutted her lips out and she cupped your face together.

“That’s fucking terrible! I think I would straight up kill her if she were mine.”

Mi-Na backed away and straightened up.

"That's it! Today after you're done with your classes I'm taking you to the cafe. I can't have my best friend keel over so quickly. What if you were supposed to meet a rich hot woman tomorrow and your death off-sets the universe?”

She clamped your hand in hers and started dragging you over to the vending machines. As she walked, the keychains in her bag jingled softly, making you smile. 

Your eyes trailed to the glittery pink bunny keychain clipping to the front, then looked back to the red one dangling from your backpack.

Mi-Na had purchased it a few years ago when the two of you were in a mall.

“See? Now it’s obvious to everyone that we’re besties!”

The memory eased a bit of the tiredness from you, making your body feel lighter.

Letting out a giggle, you began to skip along with her.

Noticing your change in demeanor, Mi-Na grinned.

“Yes! That’s the bestie I know!”

–

The cafe food really did help. Mi-Na didn’t hold back, and demanded you try each and every one of the pastries and a drink of your choice in order to, and you quote, “Regain your sunniness.”

Honestly, you were surprised you didn’t get a stomachache from all the sweets.

Stomach comfortably full, you strolled along the familiar path on your campus to the dorm. A dumb smile was dancing across your face, and the scenery felt clearer. 

The trees swayed gently in the gentle breeze, and you could hear the birds chirping faintly in the distance. The sun was setting, bathing you and the concrete path in a warm orange glow.

Maybe your dorm state improved, too.

The thought sent a thrill down your spine, setting your chest alight with excitement. You would be roommates with Se-Mi for a very long time–you didn’t want to spend all of that hating her.

But…as you walked, you noticed a peculiar buzz in the air. It bounced along the breeze, managing to sound both obscenely loud and muted at the same time.

You pause, feeling the smile start to die on your lips as you look around.

Was someone throwing a party?

You stare at the many windows of the dormitory, trying to find one with shifting lights or figures of people in the aperture. 

No luck.

You shrugged, and continued to walk.

Whatever. It wasn’t your business, anyways.

–

Fuck. 

Okay, maybe it was your business after all. Because, why in the hell was the music coming from your dorm?

Please tell me I’m just going crazy, You think, heart thundering in your ribcage. Parties lasted a fucking long time and you didn’t have the energy to kick a whole group of people out of your room.

You put your hand on the doorknob, and twisted it.

On the other side were four people. Se-Mi was off to the side strumming the guitar, a man with purple-dyed hair was in the middle with a microphone to his mouth, another man with waves in his hair was drumming, while the last, shortest man had his back turned to you, recording the group.

They all froze when they noticed you.

“Hey, what the hell man?” The guy—whose name you just vaguely remembered was Thanos—hissed, glaring at you. “Do you know how long that took us to get right?”

He turned to the man recording.

“Cut!” He screamed, before running a hand along his face. “Min-Su, I thought I told you to lock the damn door!”

“I-I did!” Min-Su stammered, glancing back at you fearfully. “I swear—“

“I have the key,” You interrupt, awkwardly holding the metal object out. “I’m Se-Mi’s roommate.”

The second her name left your lips, Se-Mi set aside her guitar and rushed to you.

Her eyebrows were furrowed and her face was scrunched up in a frown. “Hey love, why didn’t you knock first?” She asked, a little forcefully. “Now we’re going to have to reshoot everything.”

Your eyes narrowed and you scowled back. 

“Look, it’s not my fault I’m still sleep deprived,” You grumble, jutting a finger at her chest. “Which was your fault, by the way. I was terrified you were throwing a large fucking party in our dorm!”

“Wait—hold on a second,” The drummer interrupted. “Se-Mi, did you fuck your roommate?”

“What?”

“Nam-Gyu!”

For the first time ever, both you and Se-Mi were in sync.

Pink flushed the other woman’s cheeks. She glanced at you for the briefest of moments, but averted her gaze just as fast.

And, you weren’t faring much better. You were suddenly intimately aware of how close you were to Se-Mi, and the fact that if you just reached a little further you could hold her hand.

Don’t you dare think about that, you idiot! Remember how obnoxious she is!

Still, you felt like your face just turned fifty shades brighter, and you were sure your mouth was open enough to resemble a frog trying to catch flies.

“Hey, she and I did not have sex last night,” Se-Mi growled defensively, staring daggers at Nam-Gyu. 

Nam-Gyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming.

“If that’s what you say~”

“Asshole.” Se-Mi whispered. You were inclined to agree.

Thanos put down his microphone, looking unamused. 

“Fuckkk, all this talking’s making me tired.”

He packed his things and walked towards the door. 

“I’m heading out. Peace.”

The others followed suit, until it was only you and Se-Mi.

She blew out a sigh and ran a hand through her hair.

“Great, now we’ll have to do it again another day,” Se-Mi grumbled as she began to clean up the mess her bandmates left behind.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad…” You start, though when she barks out a laugh you stop.

“Sweetheart, do you know how hard it is to fucking organize a time when we’re not all busy with some shit?”

“Like what? Getting drunk at parties?” You hiss back.

Se-Mi’s eyes widened, then her lip began to curl into a snarl.

“Don’t act like I’m some drug addict, love. Just because I can afford to have fun doesn’t automatically make me some junkie.”

 “The hell? I can have some fun too!”

“You call watching TV and squeaking around with your best friend all day fun?”

You swear your Goddamned roommate is going to be the death of you.

“Yes, I do, and if you don’t want to end up dead in a ditch one day you should try it too,” You grit out, before turning around to your room.

“I’m too tired to keep this argument going. I’m going to bed.”

—

The tension between you and Se-Mi grew each passing day. 

It became suffocating.

Minor problems ended up turning into major fights, and neither of you would respect the other’s wishes.

You refused to leave the room whenever Se-Mi’s band came along.

Meanwhile, Se-Mi blasted her music, and it was so loud that you could feel it reverberating in your rib cage.

Your roommate is a nightmare.

—

The door to Se-Mi’s room burst open.

You flinch, nerves alight as you pull the blanket taut over your cold frame. You rip your eyes from the TV screen, staring at Se-Mi.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but ask, “Hey, are you alright?”

Se-Mi only scowls in response.

A phone dangles from her hand as she presses it to her ear, completely ignoring you.

“Yeah, of course I’ll be there,” She says. Try as she might to hide it, there was a tremor in her voice.

Se-Mi’s steps were unsteady, and more than once she had to lean against the wall to keep herself from toppling over.

Shit she is not okay.

Concerned, you stand up, leaving your blanket to hang haphazardly on the couch. 

“Hey,” You say, hardening your voice as you make your way to her. “ You’re not feeling well, are you? Seriously, go sit down.”

Se-Mi sniffed, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s just a cold,” She replies curtly. “Why do you care, anyway? Don’t you hate me or some shit?”

Her harsh words cut open your heart as you feel your face fall.

“What?” Sure, I may not like you and you’re certainly an ass, but I don’t hate you.”

You pause.

“And even if I did, I still wouldn’t want you making a mess all over the living room floor.

You stop mid sentence to grab her arm. “Come on, you look like you’re going to vomit.”

“Get off me!” She snarls, though she barely has any strength to push you away. The taller woman tries to move away, but she suddenly doubles over in pain and ends up curling into you instead.

“Shit…”

“Hey, senorita are you alright?” 

Thanos’s voice could be heard on the other side. His voice was a little soft, muffled by the sound of music.

“Give me that,” You demanded, before putting on the brightest voice you could muster. “Sorry, Thanos, but Se-Mi isn’t going to attend whatever you’re planning. I’m putting her on house arrest.”

“What? Why—“

You end the call before he can say more.

Se-Mi was glowering at you, her chest heaving. She was still leaning at you for support, though you could tell in her eyes that she loathed every second of it. 

“What the hell was that for? I don’t need your help—“

She starts to cough.

Hastily, you bring her to the sofa and bundle her into your blanket.

She looked like an oversized blanket burrito.

The corner of your mouth tilts up, and you could barely suppress the giggle bubbling up in your throat. Your roommate looked so…soft like this.

You could almost call it cute.

“Are you just gonna stare at me all night?” Se-Mi mumbles, snapping you from your thoughts. Her cheeks were tinged pink again, and she nervously played with her lip piercing.

Heat rushed through you.

“Of course! I’m so sorry,” You stammer, and run to get her a cup of water and a cold towel.

When you come back, you find Se-Mi curled up in a ball. Her gaze was fixated on the telenovela you were watching, and she gripped the arms of the sofa.

“They’re so stupid!” She exclaims hoarsely when she hears your footsteps. She pauses, taking a swig of the cup you handed to her before continuing. “How can they be so oblivious to their feelings?”

Who would’ve known your obnoxious roommate likes soap operas of all things. 

You liked it. At least now you could bond with her over something.

Giggling, you crawl onto the couch with her and pat her back.

“Shhh, give them time. I’m sure they’ll sort through their love problems eventually.”

She chewed her lip.

“They better, else I might reach through the screen and smack them both on the head.”

A snort escapes your lips before you could quell it. Se-Mi grins, leaning closer to you. 

A loud explosion draws your attention back to the screen, and you quiet down. Se-Mi follows suit, scrunching her nose as she watches.

When the episode finishes, she lets out an angry groan.

“It was so obvious that that witch was lying!” She grumbles, freeing a hand so she could point it to the screen. “They’re so stupid, love!”

You laugh again, wrapping your arms around Se-Mi.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait until next week to see what happens next.”

She stills in your embrace, exhaling softly.

You frown. “What’s wrong, Se-Mi? Do you not like being hugged?”

She shakes her head. 

“Nah, sweetheart, it’s just…” She trails off, trying to fit her thoughts into words. “I’ve been an ass to you, yet you still cared enough to take care of me and let me hog the blanket.”

Se-Mi turns to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

The way she looked at you so earnestly–with shame and gratitude flooding her eyes–awoke some primal feeling inside you. It was like you had just run a marathon; your nerves were alight and you were breathing oh so heavily.

Nervously, you reach a hand out to her, praying to any and every God out there that she wouldn’t notice your flushed skin. 

“I…was a bit of an ass too,” You admit, hating the hitch in your voice. “Let’s call it a truce?”

Se-Mi beamed and clasped your hand in hers. 

Her skin was hot.

“Yeah.”

“She paused.

“Hey, you said the next episode will come out next week?”

“Yup.”

“Could I maybe…be there to watch it with you?”

 Se-Mi seemed to have to force the words out, and she bowed her head slightly.

Your eyes widened. But, it wasn’t long before a stupid grin made it on your face.

“Of course!” You chirp. “Be warned though, I might talk your ears off.”

Se-Mi gave you a wry smile.

“There are worse ways to die.”

“So, it’s a date?”

Se-Mi gasped softly and you cursed yourself. You had always used that term with Mi-Na, and it didn’t matter much since she was straight and you were not. 

But…this was different. Se-Mi was very vocal about her complete disinterest in dudes.

And, it wasn’t like you weren’t attracted to her on any level. Again, the memory of Se-Mi’s toned body and slender fingers barged back into your mind. You saw how well she played the guitar, and noticed how she would always leave in the morning to run laps around the campus.

More than once, you had nearly choked on your coffee when her shirt would ride up just enough to reveal the light abs beneath. 

 Embarrassment began to pool in your gut and you scrambled to save yourself.

“As friends!” You yelped with a little too much enthusiasm. “As totally, 100% platonic friends.”

Se-Mi didn’t respond, and instead chose to stare at you blankly.

Fuck.

Did you really just ruin the budding friendship you had with your roommate?

With each passing second, it became more and more unbearable to feel her gaze on you. Maybe it would be more merciful to disintegrate into a thousand particles right now and be swept up in a dustpan. 

“You know, sweetheart, with how you worded that it sounded anything but platonic.” Se-Mi finally teased, eyes twinkling as she began to unfurl the blanket from her body.

Sweat glistened from her neck, and the tips of her ears were tinted pink.

“I-I didn’t mean it like that! I swear!” You squeak, which only serves to make her laugh harder.

“Really now?” She whispered, slowly crawling to you. Se-Mi was careful not to crush you, placing one knee between the spot in your legs whilst resting the other to the left of you.

And it was oh so unfortunate that she was wearing a shirt with a low V-neck today.

Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it—“

Boobs.

Your mouth opened into a silent scream.

Se-Mi shook her head fondly.

“Alright, alright, sweetheart, I’ll stop the teasing,” She said, eyes glinting mischievously. 

The taller woman moved away and sat back up, cheeks flushed.

“I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah.”

—

After your conversation with her, weekly telenovela get togethers became commonplace. Usually, Se-Mi would bring the blankets and pillows while you prepared the snacks. Once you two were both settled, you’d switch the TV on and snuggle together side by side.

You tried to tell yourself that you didn’t feel flustered when Se-Mi’s skin brushed against yours, and that you didn’t fantasize about kissing her hot, soft lips while her calloused fingers trailed down your thigh.

You are not falling in love with your stupid, obnoxious roommate. That simply wasn’t possible. You hate her.

You hate her.

You loathed her.

You…

Oh, who were you kidding?

You whine, shoving your face into the blanket wrapped around your waist as you tried to get away from your intrusive thoughts.

Focus on the damned show! Not on how terribly you wanted Se-Mi’s hands to wander across your body, to touch you in the most intimate of places.

No.

No!!

Shut up you dumb, horny thoughts—

“Sweetheart, are you focusing on what I’m saying?”

You gasp, jumping backward slightly.

Se-Mi’s face was so close to your own, allowing you to memorize her features.

Fuck, she’s so pretty.

“Yes?” You stammer?

Se-Mi’s lips twisted into an apologetic frown.

“Next week I can’t attend our movie night, love. My friends have been complaining nonstop about how I “suddenly ditched them” and how they really miss me. Apparently they organized a whole secret party for me and only told me today.”

She blew out a breath.

“I can’t skip a party if it’s literally thrown in my honor.”

Disappointment flooded your veins, but you still tried to smile.

Noticing your reaction, Se-Mi played with her hair anxiously. 

“I’m really sorry, love. If there was any way out of it for me, I’d take it but…my hands are tied.”

“Wait,” You say, suddenly grabbing her hands. “Take me with you.”

Her eyes widened.

“Are you sure, love? Don’t you hate loud noises?”

“I do, but I want to spend more time with you. And we’ve only been focusing on my interests. I want to try some of yours too.”

Se-Mi smiled.

“You’d really do that for me? Thank you.”

She ruffled your hair.

“But, if it gets too much, will you promise to let me know? I’ll bring you home immediately.”

You nodded.

Try as she might, Se-Mi couldn’t contain the excitement buzzing through her.

“That’s great! I can’t wait to see you there.”

—

You frowned, twirling around in the mirror. In front of you, your dress flared out prettily. Your fingers danced in your hair, making sure that no strands were out of place.

You can do this, you think.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

Se-Mi’s voice was muddled through the doorway.

“I am!” 

Eagerly, you opened the door and posed in front of her.

“How do I look?”

Se-Mi inhaled sharply, her eyes alight with an emotion you couldn’t quite describe.

“…You look gorgeous,” She whispers at last.

You grin, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks. 

“Well, you’re easy on the eyes, too.”

And she truly didn’t. Se-Mi wore a buttoned up navy blue shirt and black stylish pants. Her hair was combed, and a small guitar pin was pinned to her shirt pocket.

Fuck, you wanted to kiss her so bad.

You shook your head, once again trying to dispel those thoughts.

This was going to be a normal party. Nothing more.

Se-Mi extended a hand to you.

“Lets go, love.”

—

A disco ball hung from above, coating the large room in an assortment of colors. First, the walls were red, then shifted to green, blue, and so on. 

The table containing the snacks and drinks was crowded, and everyone was talking at once.

This wasn’t your scene.

Immediately, you looked to Se-Mi, and some of that stiffness in your posture melted away.

She looked so content like this, like it was her natural habitat. She chatted with various people, seemingly unbothered by the strong smell of alcohol and cigarettes in the air.

But, Se-Mi would always periodically glance back at you to make sure you were okay. The gesture made your heart swell.

Currently, she was engrossed in a conversation with a man in black slacks. 

You let her be, and started to meander around the room, wanting to stretch your legs.

Suddenly, you felt a cold hand on your shoulder.

“Hey baby,” A very drunk man purred, trying to pull you towards his chest. “What’re you doin’ here, all alone?”

You swat his hand away, disgusted.

“Don’t touch me,” You snapped, and tried to move away.

“Awww, don’ be like that, baby.” He said, his words slurring together. The stranger tried to palm your breasts, and you wanted to retch.

You opened your mouth, ready to retort—

“Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Her.”

From seemingly out of nowhere, Se-Mi burst into view, her eyes coldly trained on the man in front of you. She all but ripped his hand away from your chest, and slammed him to the wall.

The man shrieked.

“Get off me! I don’ want your dirty hands on me.”

“Oh? So now all of a sudden you care about consent, you dipshit?” Se-Mi sneered, sinking her fingernails into the man’s skin. “You didn’t seem all too worried about it earlier, when you were molesting her.”

The creep didn’t respond, and only scowled, trying to wrench himself free from her grasp. 

“Get out.” Se-Mi spat, finally releasing him. “I want your face out of here in the next thirty seconds, or I’ll throw you out myself.”

The man fell to the floor, and all but scrambled to run out the door.

Se-Mi’s chest heaved up and down. Sweat slicked her forehead, and a snarl was still on her face.

“Did he hurt you anywhere?” She demanded, grabbing your arms to check for injuries. When you winced at her roughness, she immediately relaxed her grip.

“Fuck, sorry sweetheart. You okay?”

You only nodded, pulling her into an embrace.

“Can we get out of here?”

“Of course.”

—

The cold air bit your skin and you shivered, nuzzling closer to Se-Mi’s embrace. Cursing, she hugged you tighter and rubbed your arms.

“Shit, I forgot to bring a jacket.”

“It’s okay…” You mumbled, sinking deeper into her hug. “I like this.”

“That bastard,” Se-Mi hissed angrily. She cupped your face protectively and stroked your hair. “To have the fucking audacity to lay a finger on you while looking like that.”

You hushed her and pulled her closer.

“It’s okay, Se-Mi. I’m okay.”

She sighed.

“I know, sweetheart. I was just…scared. I know you didn’t like him touching you.”

You nodded, intertwining your fingers with hers.

“I’d prefer you touch me instead,” You admit, cheeks growing red.

“W…what?” Se-Mi looked like a deer frozen in headlights. Her face turned a deep shade of pink and she ran a hand through her hair.

“Are you sure, sweetheart? I mean, you just went through a terrible experience, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“I mean it,” You murmur, tilting your face to angle yourself against her lips.

“I…I want you to kiss me. To make me forget his touch.”

Se-Mi exhaled softly. 

From beside her, a car drove past the road, briefly illuminating her face in an otherworldly glow.

She bit her lip, her hands sinking down to your hips.

“If you insist,” Se-Mi whispered, and you could feel her breath tickling your lips.

“Of course I do.”

Slowly, she closes the distance.

Her lips were soft.

So utterly soft.

Se-Mi’s mouth tasted sweet, and you whined, tongue prodding at her lips, begging her passage. She allowed it, opening her mouth for you to explore.

Gently, she began to dip you down, supporting your back with her hand.

When the two of you finally parted, Se-Mi grinned, wearing that stupid smirk that she always had.

“You’re a good kisser, sweetheart.”

She purred, brushing your cheek with her hand.

You sighed, leaning into her touch.

“You aren’t so bad yourself.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

"Degenerates" was meant to denote people who weren't human enough to be respected. The Nazis put up a whole art show of "degenerate" work against what they considered "true art."

More people went to and enjoyed the "degenerate" art show because it was modern art and not just the same classics they'd seen over and over again.

As an artistic, queer weirdo, I am in love with the idea of reclaiming "degenerate" and bringing it into the vocabulary alongside queer and faggot and dyke. To have it mean "interesting and artistic and modern."

As an artistic, queer weirdo, to take it away and keep it away from people who say "Don't trust those self-identifying degenerates!" when they're trying to police who can and can't be part of a group they claim is about moral superiority and being the best kind of person (sound familiar?)

See also my feelings on "gay panic" as a fun, goofy term for having a crush or having a realization of queerness. The original use of "gay panic" was coined to use by a homophobe who killed a gay man. He claimed he went into a "gay panic" at being presumed gay and it was enough of an altered state of mind he didn't really MEAN to kill a gay man.

I want "gay panic" to mean something wonderful and delightful and silly and fun. And I want it so reclaimed and widespread that there's on fucking using it as a defense because it's so connected to the joy and journey of queer people that no jury and no defense attorney and no judge will ever take it seriously as a cover for just wanting to fucking harm a gay person.

Made a little something on slur reclamation.

[salvieslovenotes]

Mirror Mirror

vi x reader, 18+ themes!!

Vi receives a nude from you for the first time and... freaks out a little

(a/n: i haven't written anything like this before, please be gentle!!)

Vi loves the way your relationship is going. She's never taken it this slow before; her relationships in the past have all been about diving head-first, but this, with you, it feels different. She really, really likes you. She doesn't want to mess it up. And taking it slow feels good, it feels like the right thing.

She suspects she's in a bit deeper than you, afraid that it means more to her than it does for you, and so slow... yeah, that's good. Give her a bit of space, allow her to reign in the rush of feelings and want that floods her whenever she's around you.

It's new for her, not to be sure of where it's going, what's happening—but she's taking a step back, taking the cues from you. Whenever you want to take it a step further, she's more than happy to go there.

But it's also tricky, not seeing you every day when she wants to. Not being sure if you're feeling the same way. Only going on one or two dates a week, holding herself back when kissing you, afraid you'll taste the longing she can't swallow down, pull away because you don't want that. You made it very clear, you two were casual. Your relationship was supposed to be fun, and yeah—casual.

So she never mentions it, even though yeah, she wants to know if you're thinking about her, too, when you don't see each other. She wants you to be thinking about her. She wants to get little dirty texts from you, she wants to send them back. She wants to get a text and be thinking about it all day. But she respects your boundaries, and so she says nothing.

Casual is... not really how Vi feels about you.

But it's alright, she knows you haven't been treated right in the past. Been with some people who haven't been respectful, who've made it so you don't give your trust easily. And so she understands why you're hesitant about starting something serious, and she really wants to show you that she's not like the others. She would never do anything to hurt you, or make you uncomfortable.

It's a total slap in the face one morning when she's just messaged you hello like she always does and you respond... differently.

good morning love

sleep well?

She's busy pouring coffee when a moment later her phone buzzes with a new message.

Cupcake <3: Well... not so good.

Frowning, she types quickly.

oh??

Three dots appear on the screen and she waits impatiently, a little worried.

Cupcake <3: Yeah, couldn't sleep well.

Was kinda... distracted

Thinking about you

Vi stares at the last line, her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest, fast enough that her stomach clenches a little. Is this... are you doing what she thinks you're doing? For a moment she has a small panic; what if she's misinterpreted, because you two have never done anything like this before. Even your flirting is all tame, none of it overly suggestive, and what if she's got it totally wrong? What if you actually meant you were up because you were questioning the relationship. Is this you telling her you want to talk?

Now panicking in earnest, Vi glances down at her screen again where your three dots have reappeared. Wondering how to reply, she takes a sip of coffee—then promptly chokes.

Another message from you has just come through. This time, it's a photo.

A photo of you, specifically.

When Vi's finished coughing her lungs out, she grips her phone tight in both hands, staring, suddenly very certain that she was right the first time. It does not look like you're questioning the relationship.

The photo doesn't include your face, cutting off at your collarbones. Vi's gaze travels along their dip and curve, thinking of how she wants to run her tongue along that same line. You're clearly lying down in the image, rumpled sheets below your back. The lower half of the image cuts off again, just showing the elastic of your panties, and the fingers you're just slipping beneath the hem.

It's a matching set. Black lace, making the curve of your waist even sharper. Vi drinks in every pixel of the image, the way your fingers are teasing her, barely pulling the elastic of your panties as if it could snap back at any moment. She can imagine your satisfied little smile, the way your breaths would become more rapid and shallow as your hand slipped lower.

Vi lets out a shaky breath, a twinging ache of want low in her stomach. She doesn't need to move to know she's soaked her boyshorts. Pushing a hand that's trembling a little through her hair, she looks at the photo again, swallowing roughly. And shit—wait, the message is from almost ten minutes ago and she...

She has the sudden thought that you might be doing that right now, and fully just —spaces out. Gripping the counter until her knuckles are white, she closes her eyes, the picture of you blazing behind her eyelids. She thinks of the way your back would arch a little as you teased yourself, brushing a finger over your clit, bucking into your own hand. Biting your lip to stifle a moan, free hand clutching desparately at the sheets.

She still hasn't replied.

What does she even respond to something like that? Wow angel, thanks for wreaking me at eight in the morning.

Honestly, she's not really sure why this photo has... affected her so much. It's not the most explicit photo she's received from a girl, not by a long shot. Hell, some of her old hook-ups had sent full on videos and none of them had made her feel... quite like this. Shaky with the need to touch you, to have her mouth on your skin, your taste over her tongue. The desparate desire to make you hers, properly hers, someone that no one else would get to touch, to want, to have. You've barely been going out a month, and she wants it to be for always.

She's worried about leaving the message read and without a response—she doesn't want you to get the wrong impression, that it wasn't a good idea to send or worse, that she's unfazed by it.

But she just... doesn't know what to send back. In the past she's snapped responses without even thinking, quick photos of her touching herself, or maybe some at the gym, especially when she was with one girl who was particularly into her strength, but she doesn't know you well enough to know what you'd like, what would make you think of her in the way she's thinking of you—you're both still learning each other, the sex is still new. And she sort of wants...

She wants to make you feel like she does right now. She just doesn't know how.

For now she just sends a quick text, just the truth, before she can think twice about it—

fuck, angel

do you have any idea what you do to me?

—then locks her phone and religiously doesn't look at it for the rest of the day. Not that it makes a difference. Without ever opening your chat again, she's distracted. Thinking about you. Wanting you.

After work she can't take it anymore and calls Caitlyn, one of her closest friends and incidentally how you two met, as Caitlyn is also a close friend of yours.

Vi's not calling to ask for advice on nudes... but she's also not not calling to ask for advice on nudes. She and Caitlyn have been friends long enough that she's not even embarrassed about it.

"Fuck I just... I dunno what to do," she sighs. It's a little frightening, to want someone that badly, when she has no idea if you feel that strongly about her.

She's so highly strung her fingers have a tiny tremor in them even though she's only had one coffee today. Every time she thinks of that photo (which she's done approximately seven times a minute all day) her heartrate picks up, heat inching up her neck. She's pretty sure her cheeks have been flushed all day—though it's not particularly hot weather-wise.

She's wearing tight black jeans, her old pair full of rips she usually wears when tinkering on her bike, but it was a bad choice today because they're tight around her waist, and every time she bends or takes a seat the seam presses against her. Usually she doesn't notice, but now even that slight pressure is enough to have her biting back a whine as she thinks again about your long fingers curling under the lacy hem of your panties, the way you'd —

A soft laugh in her ear snaps her back to the present. Fuck, she needs to get it together.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you," says Caitlyn on the other end of the line, sounding vaguely amused. "But only because you're being a pathetic wet sock. Alright, you want her to want you?"

"Uh-huh," Vi mumbles, slumped over her counter top and staring moodily at the floor.

"Right, go into your bedroom."

"Okay..." Vi replies, pushing herself up off the counter and wandering through her small flat to her bedroom. "M'kay, I'm there."

"Open your wardrobe door," Caitlyn instructs, "the side with the long mirror. You still have that mirror, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," Vi says, pulling open the side of her wardrobe with the mirror attached. "Now what?"

"Now take off your shirt, and turn around. "

Having tossed her phone onto her bed, halfway out of her shirt Vi pauses, frowning. "Turn... around?"

There's an exasperated sigh from Caitlyn's end. "Yes, turn around. One-eighty. One-eight-zero. Turn around."

"So I'm... not facing the mirror?"

There's another sigh from Caitlyn. "Fuck, Vi, you useless lesbian. Yes, turn around so your back is to the mirror."

"My back?"

"Yep." There's a smirk in Caitlyn's voice when she adds, "Trust me, that's all you need to do to make her want you."

And well, Caitlyn's not wrong.

[effemira]

hey all - i'm going to put this blog on hiatus for a while. work is going to get really busy so i’ll have a lot less time to draw for fun. i might eek out a few small things here or there, but i can't promise much.

i also wanted to say thank you to anyone who's left me an ask or a comment on my work these past several months. i'm really shy online so i don't talk about ratiorine much with other people.. but knowing that i'm able to convey my ideas/feelings about these two so well has really made me happy.

really hope i'll be able to draw more soon!

[rqyup]

out of place | xavier & sylus ver.

pairing.. sylus x reader, xavier x reader

cw.. angst to fluff

a/n.. sorry for the long break.. 😓🙏 masterlist | request

ꜱʏʟᴜꜱ

You always felt out of place as Sylus's plus one at events. Despite the countless reassurances he gave, the discomfort never quite left. It wasn't about your looks—well, not entirely. It was about the way people carried themselves, as if they belonged here. You? You were just dragged along. While others seemed to thrive in the flashing lights and loud chatter, you longed for the calm of Linkon, somewhere quiet.

Sylus’s hand rested on your waist as he chatted with one of his acquaintances, the usual routine. It had been going on for hours, and you were starting to feel drained.

Noticing your discomfort, Sylus leaned closer, his teasing smile evident. "Hanging in there, sweetie?" He whispered as his acquaintance left the picture.

You sighed. "I'd rather be asleep right now.

"You know we can leave whenever you want, right?" He pulled you closer, his smirk deepening.

"Yeah… but I don’t want to ruin the fun," you mumbled, glancing around at the lively crowd.

Sylus raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't want my love to be uncomfortable. This party was for us, after all. You can do whatever you want, and I’ll oblige. I’m at your service, sweetie."

"Well.. I'm craving some cuddles and kisses right now. And maybe some dates in Linkon.." You cheekily replied.

In which Sylus replied with "Such a spoiled kitten, hm?"

You couldn’t help but smile. Yep, you really did have good taste in men.

xᴀᴠɪᴇʀ

Ah, yes—the perfect boyfriend, or so the Hunters in the association liked to say. You never understood why Xavier saw anything special in you. After all, you were just another Hunter, right? You were proud of your strength, but you were so much lower in rank compared to him.

The nagging feeling of inferiority was always there. The way others looked at you with barely concealed judgment made your insecurities flare. Seriously? A low-ranked Hunter…? He can do better than that.

It gnawed at you, especially as Xavier slept peacefully on your lap. He was perfect in every way—how could you be enough for him? You believed he deserved someone better, someone stronger, someone who could keep up without faltering in the first round .

Xavier groaned and stirred, breaking your thoughts. "Love… how long has it been?"

"Four hours," you chuckled, brushing a strand of hair from his face. Your sleepy, cute boyfriend.

He blinked up at you, his voice laced with curiosity. "Don't you ever get tired of me asking you to train me?"

"Well, it's a bit of work, but I don't mind," he replied, still sleepy.

"Even when I last, like, thirty seconds at most?" You chuckled softly, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

"It's the thought that counts," he said, his voice softening. "I like spending time with you. Honestly, I'm glad you'd rather train with me than hang out with your friends."

His possesiveness was so evident on his face, you knew he had always been a jealous man, but every time he showed that side of his—you still can't help but laugh.

You paused, relishing the surge of feelings his words alone gave you. "Are you sure..?"

Xavier smiled, his gaze turning tender. "I'm sure."

Before you could respond, he leaned up to kiss you on the cheek, leaving you feeling lighter than you had all day.

rqyup © 2024 – do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my content; dividers by me; likes and reblogs are appreciated !

[summertimesadnessirl]

Everyone hates hypersexuality because they think it's like...

We get to tell you to stop fucking.

Also our entire culture really wants to tell people to stop fucking.

I'm pretty sure that's literally the purpose of a lot of sexual abuse- to make people stop fucking.

People who fuck just to fuck are going to get labeled as hypersexual even if they aren't.

People who are hypersexual are going to get blamed for the actions of other people who have weird pathology around the idea of sex, or certain types of sex.

Weirdly, someone can have sex with you and then later turn around and go "now I blame you for making me bad" when they consented to or even asked for and initiated the sex and enthusiastically consented over and over at various points in the process.

People who like sex just to have sex, even if they initially became that way because they were sexually abused, might not actually be doing something that hurts them. They might be doing something that works effectively to help reduce other symptoms, make new friends, etc. They might be doing things that genuinely make them feel better. You can even get slapped with an "inappropriate hypersexual" label for masturbating a lot. Like... to fantasies or porn of other adults. Like vanilla porn. Because it can't just be a harmless quirk that sometimes you get anxious or upset and you get off and then you feel better if you have a history of sexual trauma because people in the community want to hear that whenever someone like you consents to sex it's secretly that they were groomed or they have low self esteem and really just want validation or something.

People have tried to tell me over and over that I just want validation and not sex.

I guess I do sometimes have sex with people because I like knowing I can do something for someone else if I feel powerless to fix problems in my own life, or when I'm in a lot of negative social situations and I want to be be in one where the outcome is positive at the end for both people. I still enjoy the sex, though. It's not something I do and don't enjoy on a physical level.

I think secretly that's the problem.

I think the goal of a lot of things in our society is to slowly make people hate sex. Make them think something is wrong with them if they enjoy it, even if they seek it out or consented to it it was actually rape, etc.

It's some weird fusion of anti lgbt and anti woman and patriarchy and the church and the psychiatric system where we tell people doing a fun activity with your friends that everyone enjoyed and made them feel good is actually making them empty and worse and a sign that they have low self worth.

If you can't accept that sometimes having sex with someone because you both want to feel good is enough reason to have sex with them, you're just perpetuating the weird nasty shame shit that people did to you when they emotionally abused you.

If your advocacy for truama/abuse survivors isn't inclusive of

Survivors who are not women

Survivors who developed hypersexuality

Survivors with personality disorders

Survivors with anger issues

Survivors with did/osdd

Survivors with substance abuse issues

Then maybe you should start making an effort to make it. I'm not asking anyone to shift focus to a topic they don't understand, but you dont have to become an expert in hypersexuality or personality disorders to not actively exclude or demonize them

[sleeplessvalley]

decided to turn a paper scribble of inspekta into an emote