#and making sure that the less experienced coworker know what they're doing too

[damnprecious]

me: is a reliable worker me: has like a decade of experience of different tasks at the workplace me: usually knows how to help less experienced coworkers with things they aren't familiar with or knows who to ask if I don't know me: generally knows what the shit I'm doing at work boss people: hey you're gonna be in charge of your little team of two in this one event me: oh my god no I'm not qualified for this

[luffington]

OMG im obsessed with the fic with Cora and Doffy X Reader! i was wondering if i could request just Corazon X Reader? im absolutely crazy about the idea of sweet Cora having those repressed sadistic urges, and his struggle with wanting to be soft and kind, but cant help liking the darker and meaner, its just. UGH SO GOOD

Maybe the reader could have picked up on that a bit and is teasing him into giving in to those urges (which they're totally into lol)

Also i love your fics sm! keep up the great work <3

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: donquixote rosinante (corazon) x gn!reader

➤ word count: 1.3k

➤ warnings: dom!corazon, possessive!corazon, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), praise kink, established relationship, fem reader

RIGHT ITS SUCH A GOOD CONCEPT!!! we barely know anything about cora outside of what law experienced and we'll probably never find out more so.... character interpretation!

my first draft of this had a paragraph where the reader acted bratty to try to coax out his mean side and he almost starting crying.... i took it out because i couldn't do that to him (ㅠ‸ㅠ)

this ended up being pretty similar to the other fic (read here) but i hope you like it!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Corazon was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Sure, he was a master of deception – hiding his Devil Fruit powers and tricking his brother into trusting him was definitely not an easy feat. His anger issues could use some work, even though the reasons behind his outrage were always justified. But his loving personality and strong sense of morality were very real.

He never doubted your kind heart, either. You had joined the Donquixote Family simply because you had no other options, and dealing with his crazy older brother was better than starving on the streets. Corazon was able to relax around you, be silly and affectionate without being judged by his cold-hearted coworkers, and finally speak after long stretches of staying silent.

But there was more to him.

Doflamingo seemed to be the black sheep based on what little you knew about the biological Donquixotes. A rare case of madness in an otherwise well-intentioned family. However, the brothers still shared the same genes and the same horrific childhood. And even though Corazon never discussed his experiences in the Navy, he certainly witnessed terrible things that still weighed on his mind.

Your boyfriend tried his best to keep any deep-rooted darkness away from you, but it was unhealthy for him to repress every negative emotion. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He didn’t need to be an angel all the time.

One time, the eternally clumsy blonde almost fell trying to hover above you in bed. Not wanting to crush you with his ten-foot tall body, he caught himself by grabbing your arm. Hard. You squeaked in surprise and he immediately apologized, but dark blue fingerprint-shaped bruises stained your skin by the end of the night.

Early the next morning, when he thought you were still asleep, he lightly traced the marks over and over. You caught him staring at them throughout the day, too, looking more intrigued than upset. He littered your neck, chest, and thighs with hickies the next time you fucked, and you realized inflicting pain wasn’t what turned him on – he didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to mark you. Those were his fingerprints on your arm.

So much was taken away from him at a young age that of course he wanted to claim you as his own. Hickies were more conventionally sexy than bruises, so he was less ashamed about admiring them in front of you and telling you how pretty you look. Even gently rubbing a large one on your neck during a Family meeting, which made his brother huff and tell you to get a room. Corazon did get a room after that – pulled you aside into a private bathroom and fucked you against the sink while making you stare at yourself in the mirror. Whispering in a deep voice about how the color of your hickies matched his plum-colored lipstick.

A few weeks later, he came home in the middle of the night after being away on a mission with Diamante and Trebol for nearly a week. Thunder boomed outside the window and his feathery black coat left behind a trail of rainwater as he stumbled into your shared room. His tall frame visibly shook with anger, his dark sunglasses barely covered the fury burning in his eyes. You got out of bed to greet him and asked how the operation went, but he just pulled you into a very wet hug and mumbled, “I don’t want to think about it ever again.” 

You blinked slowly and whispered, “I can help you forget.”

The blonde threw his half-burned cigarette to the floor then smashed his lips against yours. He didn’t bother taking the time to build up to a heated kiss. Immediately biting your lower lip raw before pushing his long tongue inside your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut, easily submitting and letting him take whatever he wanted from you. The smell of smoke caught both of your attention. Corazon instinctively stomped out the cigarette ashes smoldering on the throw rug without tearing away from the kiss for even a moment. 

“Let me use you.” He looked as desperate as he sounded. “Just for tonight, can you be my little doll? I’ll make it up to you later, I promise, I’ll be so good to you.” Heat shot straight to your core and you nodded fervently, clutching onto his drenched clothes like your life depended on it.

Which is how you ended up with his lengthy cock down your throat, your bare ass in the air and body wedged between his sprawled-out legs. Calloused fingers tangled in your hair to firmly guide you up and down. Graciously giving you time to relax by letting you swirl your tongue around the swollen tip, though he never pulled you entirely off his dick. He looked so pretty like this – damp hair clinging to his forehead, pale cheeks turned pretty pink, subtly squirming on the mattress, pupils fully blown out with lust. 

Corazon suddenly thrust upwards to hear you gag, several inches of his cock forcing their way into your tight throat. Tiny teardrops reflexively lined your eyes as your gag reflex kicked in. You expected the blonde to panic and immediately stop – even though it was just your body’s natural reaction and you were enjoying every second. But instead, he licked his lips like he wanted to devour you. 

There were those Doflamingo genes.

But unlike his selfish brother, Corazon asked if you were comfortable with everything happening for the second time that night. You gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, obviously unable to verbally confirm with his dick stretching your mouth to its limit. His cock drooled salty precum onto your tongue as thick globs of your drool dripped down to his balls. 

You used both hands to stroke the rest of his length that couldn’t fit in your mouth – the huge man had a huge dick to match. Corazon swatted them away, held your wrists in one giant hand then pushed down hard until every inch of him was deep in your throat, messy blonde pubes tickling your nose. He was glad he set up a sound barrier, otherwise the entire Family would’ve heard the debauched moan that spilled from his lips.

After a few moments of admiring you and the prominent bulge in your throat, your boyfriend released you just before it became too much. “Good girl,” Corazon panted with a dazed smile. “Such a good girl, taking it all like you’re supposed to.”

He gave up trying to hold back after that, bucking his hips against your face and rambling about how pretty and perfect you looked like this. He pressed your head all the way down again just before he hit his peak, shooting a large load of cum directly into your stomach. When he saw your ruined state, a dark pit formed in his stomach. Tears stained your cheeks and spit dripped down your chin as you gasped for air, and he was turned on by it. 

Corazon quickly pulled you close to press soft kisses against your cheek and make sure you were okay. Nothing you said seemed to convince him, so you brought his hand between your thighs. When he swiped a finger through your folds, his eyes widened at how wet you were. He admired the way your sticky juices webbed between his digits, then immediately began toying with your cunt.

“I would’ve stopped you if you didn’t like it,” you grinned, shamelessly rutting against the palm of his hand. “Ruin me with your cock more. I’ll be a good toy for you.”

Corazon gulped, stomach fluttering with sinful excitement. “O-Okay, if… if you’re sure that’s what you want.”

Both of you knew he wanted it more than anything.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Random idea but imagine Camilla “accidentally” turned the farmer into a toddler. How would she react? more importantly, how would the Castle Village NPCs wod react???

Yeah, well... Even the greatest wizards and witches make mistakes, and today was the day the spirits didn't favor Camilla too much. Not that she's worried about the consequences, not really. After all, she's a very talented witch, and accidentally turning a young farmer into a toddler isn't something unfixable for her. It's just that the fact that Camilla didn't have time to hide the consequences of her failure in front of her colleagues (after all, it all happened in Magnus' tower) made the whole situation a bit more complicated, and they all started to panic and worry (quite a natural reaction). And Camilla had to listen to all the scolding from everyone before her colleagues would finally calm down and let her fix the situation in peace.

Naturally, Magnus was the first witness to the whole event. At first he didn't realize why there was some random kid sitting on the floor, who looked to be about three years old. However, when the old wizard discerns and recognizes the very similar features of the baby and sees Camilla's slightly nervous smile, a realization comes quickly. "What do you mean 'accidentally' turned them into a toddler?!" Camilla had to admit, she had never seen her coworker so angry before. Apparently, today really wasn't her day. However, Magnus' tirade immediately subsides if the loud swearing makes the little Farmer cry. So all he has to do is calm down and listen to Camilla's solution to the situation.

You can tell by the tired look on Jadu's face that he's definitely not getting paid enough for all this crap. Their meeting in the Stardew Valley is going to be a long one again, and the return to Castle Village will not be a quick one... again. The Farmer crying in the background, along with Magnus cursing, made an unbearable noise that added to Jadu's headache. It's not that he doesn't care about Farmer, he knows Camilla will quickly remedy the situation. Considering the head witch has done far stranger things, the accidental transformation story is like another Tuesday for Jadu. But at least he'll try to calm the Farmer down so they'll stop crying.

Unfortunately, the young wizard's attempts to calm the little Farmer were unsuccessful, so Jadu thought of nothing better than to hand Farmer to Isaac. The scarred adventurer was instantly freaked out, so much so that he didn't even argue with Jadu, and now he was holding the child in his arms and didn't know what to do. As if holding a fragile crystal vase, a confused Isaac glared at his other coworkers with a mute plea for help. How to hold them? Why are they still crying? Maybe they're hungry? Damn it, Jadu take the Farmer back! He's not a babysitter! What do you think he's supposed to do?

Taking pity on her coworker, Alesia gently took the baby from Isaac's arms, hearing him quietly thanking her for her help. The sniper smiled softly at them and began to gently rock the little Farmer in an effort to calm them down. And it worked. No one was quite sure if Alesia was experienced in taking care of kids or if it was her maternal instinct, but she did a great job and now Farmer had stopped crying and was only looking curiously at the people around them. She, by the way, was the one who had shushed Magnus when the purple-haired wizard wanted to start berating Camilla again. No one wanted to make Alesia angry, so everyone started talking quietly, which made Camilla smile.

While Magnus and Camilla were discussing more or less calmly about the solution to their problem, both of them didn't immediately notice that instead of crying, the tower was now filled with loud child's laughter. Lance could be thanked for that, as he decided to also help Alesia by showing the curious toddler a couple of magic spells. Lance had used such tricks to calm children many times before, and it worked every time. The gallant adventurer and the sniper smiled warmly at the happy little Farmer, and Jadu and Isaac were grateful for pink haired coworker, for laughter was much more pleasant to the ear than passing cries and screams.

[sundaynightslive]

NSFW ALPHABET | Nash Morningstar Edition

A/N: I really don't care enough to say this on my main because I know no one is really going to see it either way. I'm being really lazy with how often I write because of the lack of audience but honestly I think I'll try to find more ways to bring people in. I really do like writing but like having no reason to do it kinda sucks. Everyone has something going on and I'm sick of it so I just need a refresh on who's coming into this little community

Also I'm going to say that the reader is someone Nash actually likes (has literally never happened /j)

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Nash has always been a touchy person, so it's not surprising that he would want to be holding you after sex. If you do want to talk, the most he'll really do is communicate in hums and lazy nods (they're only so lazy because he doesn't have room, your head is nuzzled into his neck). He doesn't care enough to immediately clean up after sex either so you're stuck with (and to) him. He'll just close his eyes and lightly snore. It's more like a low purring sound, but if you were to bring it up to him, the snoring might just be more acceptable. He's not really sleeping either because if he feels his hands are slipping, he'll quickly reposition them. That and the fact that if you move, he'll be quick to open one of his eyes. Nothing's really going on in his head either, he's just enjoying the proximity between you two before one of his coworkers overrides his Do Not Disturb and tells him to get up.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Nash loves his arms. Everyone can tell that he loves his arms. Every time he sees a mirror, he flexes. Even if the mirror isn't that big, he'll move himself so he can see his biceps. Don't get it twisted though, he doesn't skip leg day either.

Nash loves his partner's neck. He can bite it, grab it, use it to hid his face, that's really all there is to say about that, it's really multipurposeful.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum is a lot closer to white than clear, it's on the thicker side, and he cums A LOT. Most of the time it's just a steady stream but sometimes if he cums quicker than usual, then it comes out in spurts and it takes a while for all of it to come out.

He'll cum wherever his partner wants him to, but he prefers to cum inside them just because he'll be too lazy to clean the mess off of them later. Plus, he has some questionable pull out game (on purpose. You're warm, and he's greedy. That doesn't mix well).

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Nash doesn't hide anything from you. If he wants to do something, he'll tell you straight up, and he'll be proud of it too.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very. Every Lord at Hireath jokes about him having every sexually transmitted disease known to man (or demon). If you tell him about a kink that you wanted to test out, I'm sure he's already tried it and knows everything about it. However, I will say that he fucks around a lot less recently than he did in his younger years. It's most likely because he's coming to terms with the fact that he actually has to get work done.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He has a few:

Missionary: Call him basic, but he likes how intimate it is and how he can clearly see your facial expressions and how you look at him.

Doggy Style/Leap Frog: Had to balance out the missionary somehow /j. No but really he is still a whore at heart and he'll take any opportunity he can to give backshots (just throwing a bit of temperature play in there, he may or may not use the air in the room to mess with you. Making it all cold hand having it run down your spine for a few seconds)

Standing up: This might just be because of how much he enjoys semi-public sex; this is often how you guys end up doing it. He enjoys the feeling of your arms and legs holding onto him for dear life. For some reason, it makes him feel really useful, and if something boosts his pride, he likes it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really just depends on how he feels. He's fine with being serious, and he's also fine with being very playful. Just don't try to change the vibe because he will not be able to collect himself and he will embarrass your dumbass.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn't annoyingly hairy but there is some hair down there. Even though he does have a bit going on, its still pretty well kept. Also the carpet does match the drapes.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's not the type of person to express his love in words very often, and that does apply here. If you've come to realize that him being that close to you and even him choosing to be serious is his way of showing love, so it is a very intimate moment for the two of you most of the time.

He doesn't go out of his way to be romantic in terms of presentation unless he feels like you care about that stuff. Then every once in a while he does some generic romantic shit before you two get down.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

A decent bit?? Without you he jerks off around 4 times a week, and the only thing stopping him from doing it everyday is work. He doesn't really feel the urge to jerk off if you're around, but if he feels like he really shouldn't bother you, then he absolutely will go jerk off, so I feel like it changes to once or twice a week when you're around.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Marking, overstim, begging, praise, edging, and degradation are the ones that get brought up the most, but he probably likes whatever you like as well

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He'll be fine with doing it anywhere that wouldn't have terrible consequences, so he has a lot of places to choose from. In moments like these, you have to remember that Nash is still a questionable being, because I'd say that some of his favorite places to get down are probably in one of the other Sin's offices. The risk factor is there, and honestly he gets off on missing all their stuff up sometimes soooo...

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

IT HAPPENS OUT OF NOWHERE. There is not one specific thing that will get him going every time. Even you trying to get him motivated doesn't usually work as well as you would expect it to because it feels too easy for him.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that would really hurt either of you. Some pain is fine to him but he gets beat up enough at work already, there's no need to bring it there. If you're a masochist, he can indulge in that a bit but he doesn't want to cause too much harm or else he'll feel guilty.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Let me quote something I said a while ago.

"Nash knows that it's cold. He loves it. In fact, he'll stick his tongue out before eating pussy, dry some of the moisture off of his tongue with his powers (remember, he's the element of air) just to make it way colder. He likes to see the way you shiver when he runs his tongue along your body. And he'll have the nerve to ask you to stay still while he does it. Not like he doesn't have his arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you down anyway" -Rye, 2023

Even if you don't have a pussy, it really doesn't change anything because he will fuck around and you will find out. This is just a very specific version of it

Anyway, Nash prefers receiving, he just thinks that it puts his partner below him (in both ways) and it really just boosts his ego. Most of the time he'd be doing something while you suck him off anyway, making you feel extra useless for not being able to snap him out of it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on the day, but most of the time he's going to be fast and rough, often changing positions in the middle of it. By the end of it, he'll have you confused and maybe even dizzy because how did you even end up like that? But there are those rare times where he goes extremely slow. And when I mean slow, I mean he's barely moving because all he really wants to do is hold you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Get used to quickies because half of the time if you're having sex, that's what it is. He's busy and finding a long time to do it if he isn't on break because of his heat is damn near impossible. He doesn't hate them either, he just wishes that he could spend more time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Anything that probably won't kill you? If the answer is yes, he's down.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

There is no need for this to even be said. It's almost as if he never gets tired. I can't even say how many rounds he can go for because it's not based on how much he can take, but how much time he has. He lasts a little bit longer than most guys but it's nothing too impressive.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He rarely ever uses toys on himself, and if he does it's like a fleshlight or a vibrator, nothing crazy. He won't use them on his partner unless they ask him to. If they ask him to, he's not the type to be offended at all so he's in the green here.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If you think Nash wouldn't tease you, there has to be something wrong with your brain chemistry. He teases you without even noticing because it comes so naturally to him. And like I said, he has a thing for begging so he'll try his best to get you to do that, and if that involves teasing, then so be it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He doesn't make much noise at all. It's like he makes you scream to make up for his lack of volume. If anything, he's just whispering to you and letting out low groans and a few whines.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Even after his coworkers ignore his DND, he still takes his sweet time to get out of the house. Like he'll be walking around wearing just his boxers, eating a bowl a cereal, complaining. Like MOVE.

Also he will ask you to aim for him. He's joking but he'll be amused if you actually do.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His dick can shapeshift just like the rest of him, but let's say he's 8'10 like usual. He's pretty thick too, but reasonably so. I'd say he'd be a solid 9.7 inches with a few visible veins running down to the tip. He's circumcised, the tips pink-ish and the shaft is slightly darker than his normal skin tone. Also, he's a shower not a grower.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

On a scale of 1-10, one being rarely having a sex drive, and 10 being constantly horny, he's always around 7.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He doesn't usually feel the need to fall asleep after sex unless it was after a mission. So most of the time he waits for you to fall asleep before he actually falls asleep, or he doesn't sleep at all.

[erabundus]

he  is  silent,  fingers  a  SHACKLE  around  the  human's  neck.  ren  meets  his  gaze  in  the  mirrorlike  surface  of  his  weapon,  and  is  taken  aback  by  the  sheer  intensity  of  the  LOATHING  that  greets  him  in  return.  he's  accustomed  to  being  scorned  —  to  being  hated,  to  being  treated  like  less  than  a  person.  some  monstrous  thing  meant  only  to  carve  a  bloody  swath  through  the  world  in  the  hands  of  whoever  wields  him  at  the  time.  (  in  many  ways,  ren  tends  to  welcome  it;  scorn  is  more  familiar  than  comradery.  )  yet  this  feels  different.  it  runs  too  deep  to  stem  from  what  has  taken  place  between  them.  yes,  the  revelation  of  the  wanderer's  true  nature  must  undoubtedly  be  an  unsettling  one.  yes,  the  act  of  watching  him  click  flesh  and  bone  back  into  place  is  grotesque.  but  surely  that  alone  is  nowhere near  enough  to  inspire  this  level  of  hatred.

and  the  words  that  spill  from  his  mouth  —  they  border  on  mania,  on  a  certain  flavor  of  MADNESS  he's  never  seen  possess  the  dutiful  general  mahamatra  before.  it  takes  a  lot  for  ren  to  truly  feel  disturbed,  but  this  display  manages  to  unsettle  even  him.

❝  ...  ❞  the  wanderer  grits  his  teeth.  what  he  wouldn't  give  to  know  what  thoughts  flow  through  cyno's  head  right  about  now.  pain  is  temporary  —  the  mantra  surfaces  in  his  mind  once  again.  he  isn't  going  to  admit  the  vitriol  hurts.  (  how  absurd.  )  that  would  imply  a  level  of  attachment  he's  reticent  to  lay  claim  to.  ren  doesn't  have  friends.  he  doesn't  seek  out  bonds.  they're  hardly  COWORKERS  at  best.  he  simply  feels  obligated  to  return  the  kindness  the  general  mahamatra  paid  him  in  turn;  nothing  more  and  nothing  less.  though  as  far  as  he  can  tell,  it  appears  cyno  has  little  interest  in  accepting  his  help  —  certainly  not  now.

❝  i'm  not  interested  in  any  of  that.  ❞   he  says  coldly.  ❝  i  didn't  ask  to  be  brought  into  this  world.  if  you  want  to  try  taking  me  out  of  it,  be  my  guest.  ❞  eyes  narrow;  fingers  twitch,  digging  in  just  a  fraction  more.  ❝  there's  plenty  of  things  i'll  take  responsibility  for ...  but  whatever  TURMOIL  you're  experiencing  right  now,  i  have  nothing  to  do  with.  take  it  up  with  lesser  lord  kusanali  if  the thought is so unbearable;  she  actually  has  the  patience  to  deal  with  this  sort  of  issue.  ❞  he  punctuates  the  statement  by  relinquishing  his  grip  —  then  takes  a  swift  step  away,  on  the  off  chance  the  mortal  decides  to  make  good  on  his  OFFER to try extinguishing his life.  if  he  wants  to  be  alone  so  badly,  ren  will  humor him.  he's  been  on  the  opposite  end  of  this  kind  of  situation  before;  he  knows  nothing  good  will  come  of  trying  to  force  his  company.  perhaps  a  bit  of  solitude  will  be  exactly  what  the  general  mahamatra  needs  to  rediscover  his  common  sense.

❝  don't  go  doing  something  STUPID  to  get  yourself  killed.  ❞  it  feels  like  an  obvious  thing  to  say  —  yet  with  how  this  conversation  has  been  going,  it  seems  necessary.

with those parting words, he calls forth the wind ... and vanishes in a matter of seconds.

His last ditch effort to strike had Cyno fall onto his knee, staff sunken by half into the split ground. The matra needed to hold onto its shaft with both hands, not just to retrieve it, but to even begin to stand back up on his feet.

Before he had even a chance to work on that, though, he felt cold fingers close around his neck from the back, right through pale hair and tassels of his headdress. They didn't squeeze, but the strength pinning him down in this position had his mind drawing a comparison to the feeling of a Ruin Guard's hold. He was absolutely stuck, with one hand on his weapon, the only one instinctively grabbing around the intruding wrist of the hand holding him captive like a leash of fake flesh and Gods-know-what-else.

The mockery only made him seethe more.

"You shall not interfere with human evolution... You shall not tamper... with life and death." He growled through clenched teeth. The glare of his eyes burned deep into Ren's reflection on the metal sheen of his weapon. If looks could incinerate.

This insult to human nature. A product of sin.

"You shall not delve... beyond the universe."

Made by a God? Could a God commit sin?

If the Electro Archon could, then why not Nahida? That dark snake-like thought had returned to poison his mind anew. After all, she'd kept all this hidden from him, had she not?

What good reason could there be to keep it from him? He, who'd put so much at stake to save her. He who'd renewed his oath to protect her to the very end. Why would she not put her trust in her most loyal servant?

"You shall not..." His voice trailed off, throat pushing down a lump that threatened to choke him in a way those fingers still would not.

Was it not because this was exactly the kind of truth the General Mahamatra would condemn? No one was above the Code. Not even Archons stood free from judgment. His duty was sacred.

His chest hurt deeper than any sore muscle or bruised patch of skin, and Cyno realized that was the feeling of his heart shattering and sinking to the very bottom of his being.

"She wouldn't..."

She would. She had.

And now, with this knowledge, what was he supposed to do? Even if by some miracle he managed to defeat Ren here - highly unlikely, he knew already, but that was a thought he pushed away - who would his weapon be turned against next? Nahida herself? Who'd be the traitor at this point?

Perhaps he already was one, if he held to principles the Dendro Archon no longer considered. If this was the kind of thing Lord Kusanali took under her wing, what good was even a matra anymore?

The more questions piled up inside him, the harder it became to think straight. And his breath had started to rattle, short and fatigued within lungs coated with dust.

"... Leave me." Finally he spoke to Ren again; without looking back. Only that command tossed harshly with a hoarse voice. "I want to be alone."

[shiro-hatzuki]

so this might be me projecting a little (okay maybe a lot), but i have a thought on haruka's s2 mv that i need to scream into the void.

spoilers for "all-knowing and all-agony" below the cut. also i will be talking a lot about strict/bad parenting and referencing my own experiences a lot to explain my thoughts. also also content warning for violence and animal death among others that i can't think of as i will be using screenshots from the mv.

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

first off, i'm going to be explaining something before getting to haruka proper to make sure we all have context. please bear with me, or just skip down to the bolded text where i get to haruka fr.

so asian parents, right? i have them, other people have them, you who is reading this might have them idk your family, and haruka - being japanese - probably has them. you know that stereotype where the asian parent(s) are all "study hard and harder! also do extra curriculars like studying music because it'll help your grey matter!" well as humorous as it is to me personally, it's also very much based in reality if my experience growing up as well as how my friends' relatives are like (those friends thankfully have more chill parents raising them, but the same cannot be said of their aunts and uncles) are anything to go by. as well as the plethora of media and online posts you'll see made by asians about that type of parent. not every asian parents are like that if that wasn't made clear by my earlier statement regarding my friends, and of course there are non-asian parents who are very much like that (hi american soccer moms), but it is definitely a trope that many a child can attest to.

now these parents have a tendency to show off their children's accomplishments. look at my child! they got top prize at their piano competition! my child got a perfect score on all their tests and is the top of their class! my child is so accomplished, they bought a whole house, two cars, and is the bread winner of their family of four at their young age! it's a metaphorical dick measuring competition as if to show off how ""right"" the parents raised their kids. but what of the kids who can't be the best of the best? who are just average or, worse (in the parents' eyes) below average?

they're treated like failures. one form of this can be that of pressure and comparison to others more accomplished than the child - the form that i personally experienced. your parents might show you the accomplishments of other people your age through telling you stories of their friends' and coworkers' ""more successful"" kids to try to ""inspire you,"" and though maybe they doing it with good intentions, you can't help but hear the words "look at how successful this person is. they are the same age as you with the same or even less opportunities than you, yet why can't you be this?"

and yet another form - one that i witnessed happening to one of my brothers - is the form of being an outcast from the family. treated like the "black sheep," the parents low key (or very obviously) give up on the child as if they're a lost cause, a waste of time, money, and effort. perhaps the parents still love the child in a way and aren't completely negligent, yet for the success-hungry parents, their efforts that they frame as love are turned away from their "lost" child and are either focused onto the child's siblings or other people's kids such as cousins and other relatives, family friends, and students (not necessarily in a creepy way, to clarify, just in a way that prioritizes those kids' success over the "failed" child).

now onto haruka.

so when you're a little kid who has yet to be disenfranchised and, in your parent's eyes, are full with potential, you might have liked to do things that your parents thought made your successful, though it wasn't because you too wanted to be successful. it was because it made your parents happy and gave you positive attention. perhaps haruka may have done this when he was younger based on these lines

however, what happens when you grow up yet your development plateaus? all the crayon drawings that you're good at hardly matter anymore because now they want to to get good grades and talents that you simply don't have and are out of your reach. now you've become the failure that was described above. and with failure comes:

comparisons to other people

admonishment, subtle or not, for being the way you are

attention once meant for you being given to others

and abandonment, metaphorical or literal.

all that? that really grates on a person's psyche.

whether or not haruka was previously seen as one of those gifted children, it hardly matters right now. because right now, all he is considered is a failure by his parents. (his mother's lack of attention towards him is apparent by her disappearing in the s1 mv and a lot throughout s2 mv, though for his father, haruka's fifth interrogation question makes the father's disappointment obvious).

well, this is only part of my current theory for haruka anyways. there are of course other factors that should be considered, such as haruka having a mental disorder such as autism, which could be a double whammy for people with these success-hungry parents since there are still many other there that see mental disorders purely as a negative.

[thebreakfastgenie]

☕️ the west wing!

I don't really know if there are words to encompass how I feel about The West Wing. I got into The West Wing around the same time I started studying government and politics, it was my first year of college and it just... rewired my brain. I've never experienced anything quite like that before or since (yes, M*A*S*H is similar, but it's not the same). All I wanted for a solid two or three years was to be Josh Lyman.

I think some people are a little weird about The West Wing but that it is genuinely a very good show. I think the backlash against it is goofy. All the attitudes people try to pin on it existed before the show, in fact most of them were put in the show by the former Clinton staffers who worked on it. Democratic staffers like The West Wing because it says the coolest, sexiest thing you can be is a Democratic White House staffer.

I'm bored by both lionization and vilification of Aaron Sorkin. In my opinion he's treated too much like an auteur and a lot of his signature style on Sports Night and The West Wing is a product of the Sorkin-Schlamme collaboration. (For example: Schlamme came up with the walk-and-talk). What I think Sorkin managed to do with The West Wing, and something I've never really seen done as successfully in any other show, is give day-to-day White House operations the appropriate emotional stakes. The characters live and die by whether a bill gets passed, so the audience does too. There is very little over-the-top TV drama. I'm sure someone other than Sorkin could do this, it's just that as far as I can tell nobody has. John Wells certainly did not; my biggest criticism of the last three seasons (other than sloppy characterization) is that extra drama is added unnecessarily. I felt the same way about several episodes of E.R., so I think this is probably a John Wells thing.

I don't dislike the last three seasons, but they feel like a different show to me, and one I like a lot less. A lot of my favorite things about the first four seasons change in the later seasons and that doesn't make them objectively bad but it does impact my personal enjoyment. I think the election arc gave season 7 in particular something of its own to do and was for the most part very good (there is some sloppiness and artificial drama but considering they also lost an actor mid season, they did okay).

The West Wing is also functionally a workplace drama set at the White House, which in my opinion is the best way to do a political drama. One of the things I find the most fascinating about politics is that our government bodies are all workplaces. These people are coworkers, with all the interpersonal drama that entails. The juxtaposition of how relatable those experiences are with the grandeur of the White House is delicious to me.

I don't really buy into the importance of The West Wing. It got some people interested in politics and that's a good thing, but I don't think it's impact is all that large. It's a TV show. It's also not super useful as an educational tool at this point in my opinion, unless you're teaching late 90s/early 2000s politics, because it's incredibly dated. It still works to watch as a period piece but things have changed a lot.

I also find the cultural perception of The West Wing really amusingly misleading. I don't think people who haven't watched it realize how funny it is. There is a lot of comedy and the show thrives on it. Also, while I don't think it's a flawless show by any means, a lot of the criticisms just... aren't accurate. A central conflict of the show is reconciling progressive beliefs with a need to compromise in order to govern and sometimes the characters feel like shit about it. Sometimes they're called out. I saw someone post screencaps of the scene in season 1 where Justice Crouch calls Bartlet out on moving to the middle saying "but this justice is right," apparently missing that you're supposed to agree with him. Most of the liberal wish fulfillment stuff that gets pinned on Sorkin happened after he left the show. Ultimately where the show fails the most is its repeated insistence that there are good people on both sides, but I understand why people believed that in the early 2000s.

I also think it's really funny how much the Bartlet 1998 campaign mirrors how people wanted the Bernie 2016 campaign to go, but a lot of Bernie Bros hate The West Wing. It vindicates their view of politics a lot!

I think season 2 is the best season, which everyone does because it's incredibly good, but more controversially I think season 1 is a close second. Season 1 of The West Wing feels like it's in its own universe because it was made completely during the Clinton administration and it has a season long arc that I honestly think is stronger than any of the arcs in later seasons, climaxing in Let Bartlet Be Bartlet.

Finally, I know the standard line is Democrats use The West Wing as a coping mechanism, but I had the opposite experience. I basically could not watch it while Trump was in office. Biden got elected and I almost immediately felt like watching it again.

[ificouldhelpyouforget]

My Light in a Dark Place — Fourteen (Tamaki Amajiki x OFC)

MASTERLIST | MLDP MASTERLIST

A/N: All of this feels sloppy and fast, but I didn't want to dwell on this for long. It'll come up in the future and I don't want to overload anyone. I will say that if this is too much, I'll recommend not reading a later chapter that goes a little more in depth into the assault. Sorry this chapter is intense and probably not my greatest work. Take care of yourselves. <3

Chapter warnings: WARNING!!! This chapter will be triggering to anyone who has experienced sexual assault. Nothing is in detail, but it's easy to understand what is happening. From here on out, there will be discussions of the assault and how it's processed. Please be aware that everyone heals differently and reacts differently to these things. This is how I felt my characters would handle the situation. I apologize if it's unrealistic. I do not want to romanticize assault or make it less than it is if somehow I have. DO NOT READ IF TRIGGERED BY SEXUAL ASSAULT

Words: 3.3k

Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts!

Loud music fills the cramped club the moment Yuki walks in with Kirishima at her side. Tamaki wanted to go in with her instead, but he was called in for patrol because another hero had an emergency that would make them late, so Kirishima went instead. Tamaki promised he'd be there as soon as he finished though.

"It's loud!" Kirishima says with a grin on his face. "I'm surprised Jiro enjoys coming here. I'd think it's too loud for her."

"Um... isn't she the one on stage DJ-ing?"

"Look at that. Guess that makes sense. I didn't realize she was performing tonight!"

"She's talented!" Yuki spots Uraraka, who starts waving her arms. "I found the girls. I'm gonna head over. Are you sure you're okay with hanging around here?"

"Yup! Tamaki will get here eventually to keep me company, so don't worry about me. Enjoy some time with the ladies."

"Thanks, Kiri," Yuki says, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek before pushing her way over to the girls' table.

"I'm so glad you made it! You look so cute in your dress!" Uraraka says, hugging Yuki tightly. "And how sweet of Kirishima to come in with you!"

"Tama would have, but he had to patrol for an hour or so for a coworker. They're keeping an eye on me."

"The crazy ex Ochako mentioned?" a woman with long dark hair asks.

Yuki nods.

"Oh! I should introduce you!" Uraraka points at each woman at the table. "That's Momo Yaoyorozu, Tsuyu Asui, Mina—who you know—and that's Kyoka Jiro on stage. She'll join us after her set."

"Eijiro told me about her before. Had me listen to some of her music. She's fantastic. Hearing her live is a totally different experience to listening to a recording."

"She is so good!" Mina says. "Oh, do you want a drink or anything, Yuki?"

"Nah. I'm fine. Sometimes drinking messes with my Quirk, but thank you!"

All the girls fall into excitable chatter, Yuki joining in when prompted or when she has a comment. A smile stays on her face the entire time. But none of them are prepared for the way her skin lights up when she spots Tamaki walking over to Kirishima and their eyes meet. He sends her a tiny smile, and it makes her heart soar.

"Whoa," Jiro says. She joined the girls a few moments ago. "That's your Quirk?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Yuki regains control over it, looking away from the man stealing her attention. "Sorry about that."

"It goes off when she's overly happy," Mina announces. "It's the one thing Aizawa couldn't train out of her. It's a cute peek into her feelings, though."

Momo scans the crowd in the general direction of where Yuki was looking. "Something must have triggered it, right? What was it?"

Mina giggles. "I think it's a matter of who."

"Kirishima? Ribbit." Tsu ponders out loud.

"Nah. Kirishima doesn't make Yuki glow like that usually," Uraraka says, turning to look for the redhead. "Oh. I see. It's Amajiki."

"Suneater?" Momo asks.

"Uh-huh."

Jiro tilts her head. "Do you like him, Yuki?"

A furious blush floods her face. "Um... yeah."

All the girls squeal and Momo touches Yuki's arm. "You do?! That's so cute! Does he like you back?"

Yuki nods.

"Are you dating?"

"No... Well, we've been on a few dates."

"But he hasn't asked if you want to be his girlfriend yet?" Mina asks.

"Not yet. I'm not sure if he will ask or if I'll have to ask him."

"Why wouldn't he ask you?" Tsu asks.

Ochako smiles at all the women at the table. "You remember how shy Amajiki was back in high school, right? He takes a little longer to move things forward. He'll get there, unless Yuki makes the move first!"

"He did ask me out after a little push from Kiri, you know. It made me super happy to have him ask me, even if he stuttered a little. It was really cute."

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. He was nervous, but–"

A loud boom and a violent tremble of the entire building causes screams to echo through the room, people instantly bunching up at the exits to get out. The lights flicker until they go out completely. Yuki activates her Quirk.

"Is the building okay?" Momo asks her fellow heroes. "It sounded close."

Suddenly, Kirishima and Tamaki push through panicked patrons. Both flanking Yuki.

"Are you all okay?" Kirishima asks.

Everyone nods.

"We need to get everyone away from danger," Tamaki says, his fingers changing into tentacles. "I'll get as many as I can out of here."

Another round of nods and sounds of agreement before the heroes move into action. Tamaki and Kirishima look at Yuki, concern filling their eyes. Neither want to leave her.

"Guide as many people as you can out of here. Once we know what we're dealing with, we'll make a game plan." Kirishima grabs her hand and squeezes. "We need you, Yuki. We'll meet back up outside. Be safe. Try not to go too far out of our sight, okay?"

"I'll try." Yuki leaves one more lingering gaze at her friends and then shouts for people to follow her out of the building.

Time seems to be nonexistent as Yuki brings her first group of people outside. She barely sees how many follow her or the smoke billowing out of a building the next block down. She runs back inside and starts the process all over again.

It feels like hours but is only minutes with quick check-ins from her passing friends as they work. She only sees Tamaki once when he runs out with several people wrapped in his tentacles and a serious face that softens at the sight of Yuki. She sees Ochako and Kirishima each two times. But there isn't time to pause.

By the time Yuki goes in for a fourth time, it's eerily quiet. She calls out but doesn't hear anyone respond. She runs farther into the dark building, intent on staying in the doorway until someone can help her. Yuki calls out again and swears she hears a voice in the distance that sounds strained, so she gives into the need to help and heads down the back hallway. Until her mind goes fuzzy and she falls to her knees.

Despite her glowing skin, her eyes lose sight of everything around her. Yuki's ears ring. Fear takes over at the touch of someone's hand on the back of her neck that forces her face into the floor. Her limbs don't move the way she wants, the way she needs, refusing to flail and kick and punch whomever is touching her. She hears a muffled voice, but can't understand what is said. The second she feels fingers wrap around her waist; her mind loses all sense of where she is. Nothing stands out to her. All she sees is darkness. No sound reaches her eardrums other than the incessant ringing. But she can feel.

The hand that pushed her face to the floor leaves the back of her neck, trailing down her back to grip the other side of her waist. When one of those hands drifts farther, lifting the skirt of her dress, and squeezing the flesh of her butt, Yuki feels her panic try to push through the haziness of her brain. It breaks through enough to allow her to try crawling away, but hands grab her ankles, pulling her back on her belly. Yuki screams out and flashes her Quirk before everything goes nonsensical.

She's floating, limbs falling where they please. Yuki thinks she feels something touching her legs, but her mind drifts to flowers and how to arrange them for optimal beauty. Red roses with the soft whiteness of baby's breath for a classic look. Orange lilies with green fern stems and sprigs of lavender to bring a summery Halloween vibe. So many combinations, so much beauty.

Yuki reaches out for a pretty black rose. Her fingers grip the stem, but a thorn pierces through the pad of her ring finger. Pain ripples across her entire body, making her groan pathetically. Flower petals seem to manifest in thin air and wrap around her body, coating her skin with their perfume. The sting from the thorn doesn't hurt anymore.

The soft call of her name floats alongside the various flower petals and blooming buds. The voice is familiar to her, but Yuki can't pinpoint how. It sounds again, closer, as if right in her ear.

The flowers are suddenly ripped away.

There are growls and grunts somewhere behind her and thuds she can't quite comprehend. She's on her side with a strange pain that seems to come from inside her. Her legs goosebump from the air.

As soon as the noise behind her halts, Yuki tenses, unsure why it's still so dark.

"Yuki." The voice is strained, sad, but familiar.

"Tamaki?"

"Y-Yeah."

"What... What happened?"

He sucks in a breath and looks over his shoulder at Kirishima who is hoisting an unconscious body onto his shoulder. Yuki reaches out to Tamaki, grasping the front of his shirt without seeing.

"Why is it so dark?"

"The power's still out from the explosion."

Yuki recalls that. "Oh. Where am I?"

"The club we were all in before it happened. You've been getting people out of here."

"Is everyone okay?"

"I... I think so."

"Good." Yuki leans forward, letting her face press into Tamaki's chest. "I'm so tired."

"I know... but we... we need to take you to the hospital... to make sure you're okay."

She nods, not questioning why she needs to go.

Tamaki turns to look at Kirishima. "I'll take her. You bring him in."

"Take care of her."

Yuki perks up at the sound of her best friend's voice. "You're here, too, Kiri? Are you okay?"

"I'm here and I'm fine. Let Tamaki take care of you and I'll see you soon." His voice cracks. "You've had a... a rough night."

"Really? Oh... Sleep will help." She settles against Tamaki again. "Can I go home?"

"I'm sorry, but not right now." Tamaki messes with her dress, the fabric coming over her thighs like it should. "Can you stand?"

"I think so."

Gently, Tamaki helps Yuki to her feet, where she wobbles a bit and mutters about her body hurting. "I know. I'm going to carry you out and I... I want you to keep holding o-onto me. Don't let go, okay?"

"Okay."

Suddenly, Yuki's floating again but within the safety of Tamaki's arms. She hides her face against his shoulder. "Will you be able to see?"

"Yes. Don't tire yourself out anymore. We'll get you to bed soon."

She hums against him, eyes closing. The next time her eyes open, Tamaki's cape is draped across her body. It smells like Tamaki and she smiles into it as she drifts off again. When she wakes up again, Yuki is no longer smiling.

Her senses seem normal again. She can hear perfectly, see everything. But she sees a woman she doesn't know in a white doctor's coat, Tamaki is leaning against the opposite wall with watery eyes, and Kirishima has full-blown tears rolling down his face.

"What's wrong?" she asks, sitting up in the hospital bed, unsure how she got there. "What happened?"

"We're okay," Tamaki says.

"We're not worried about us," Kirishima adds, fists clenched at his sides.

Yuki looks at the doctor. "Is something wrong with me? Is that why I'm here?"

"I don't know if there's anything wrong. We were waiting for you to wake up before moving forward. I'm Doctor Yamamoto."

"Hi. Why were you waiting for me?"

"Standard procedure requires your consent."

"Okay..." Yuki gazes at the two men in the room. "What is it that needs to be done?"

"Have you had a PAP before?"

"Yeah..."

"What I need to do is the same process."

Yuki scrunches her eyebrows together. "But what could I have done to need something like that when I was getting civilians to safety?"

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Miss Osaki," the doctor says. "You were sexually assaulted."

Kirishima sucks in a breath and covers his eyes with his arm. Tamaki looks at the ground while twisting the ends of his ponytail with his fingers.

"W-What?"

"I'm sorry, Miss Osaki."

"I don't... I don't remember... How...? It can't be true." Tears fall from her soft purple eyes. "There's no way."

"You don't remember because someone with a suppression Quirk dulled most of your senses."

Yuki looks at Kirishima. "Who was it?"

He shakes his head, refusing to speak.

"Kirishima... Who was it?"

"There were two..." Tamaki answers for the redhead. "The one with the Quirk and the one who... who..." He lowers his head again. "Tanaka did it... using someone with a Quirk. We took Tanaka in, but the Quirk user came to the police by himself. He was being used to hurt... to hurt women and didn't want to do it. As soon as Tanaka was arrested, he admitted to everything."

"S-Seto... he..." Her tears fall faster. "And he used someone else? How can anyone...?" A sob spills from her lips, causing both men to cringe and take steps forward.

Doctor Yamamoto halts them. "I know this is hard and I want to give you plenty of time to process, but I would like to gather evidence for the police while making sure there is no damage to you internally."

"Did he... What if I get pregnant?!"

"We can't know that right now, but we can provide you with a pill to lower your chances."

Another sob and a nod.

The doctor looks at the two heroes. "If you two could, please step outside momentarily. You can come back in once I'm done here."

Neither male wants to leave, but they do as they shoot supportive looks toward Yuki, her eyes wide with fear. As soon as the door shuts, Doctor Yamamoto begins her work.

It takes more coaxing and kind words, but Yamamoto eventually gets Yuki calm enough to check her over. The easy part was checking for and taking photos of bruises along her hips, waist, and thighs. The tricky part came when she had to check inside Yuki's body where there was a dull ache settling.

"I'll tell you everything I'm going to do and walk you through every step. I'll make this quick and painless."

Yuki sniffles, feeling exposed with her legs bent at the knees and spread wide for the doctor to get a look. "O-Okay."

And Doctor Yamamoto keeps her promise. Every move she makes, she explains what she's doing and does it gently.

"Is that tender?" she asks, her fingers poking around down there in a way that left Yuki mildly uncomfortable.

"A little."

"It looks a bit irritated, but I see no tears. That's good." She explains what's going to come next, not making Yuki feel much better about the situation. "Just think of this as a PAP, Miss Osaki. I'll be in and out quickly."

Yuki still gasps as the speculum is inserted and whimpers as Yamamoto opens it up, cooing and calming the crying woman. Yuki feels the swab rub all around inside and in seconds, everything is removed.

"You did very well. I'm sorry this had to be done so soon after, but the more evidence the police have, the easier it will be to put that man behind bars." The doctor helps Yuki back onto her bed and covers her up with a pat on her leg. "I don't think you need to worry about pregnancy considering I couldn't see anything that shows he finished, but I'll get a pill for you if you'd like, just in case."

Yuki nods, squeezing her legs together. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. If you need me or a nurse, please push that button beside your bed. We should have you out of here in an hour, okay? I'll send your friends in if you'd like."

"Yes... please."

Doctor Yamamoto gives a small smile and leaves the room. Two seconds later, Kirishima and Tamaki come through the door. It sets Yuki's tears off again. Kirishima doesn't hesitate to crawl into the bed with her and hold Yuki close to his chest.

"It's okay now. We've got you, beautiful."

Tamaki hesitates on the other side of the bed. He doesn't know if Yuki will cringe from his touch because Yuki hasn't known him as long as she's known Kirishima. But his heart yearns to pull her into his arms, where he can protect her from everything haunting her. It's the least he can do for failing to keep her safe.

Kirishima looks up at Tamaki after kissing the top of Yuki's head. "Do you want Tamaki to take care of you for a little, Yuki? I have to go tell Fat Gum what happened tonight. I'll be back before you're released, and Tamaki will be here the whole time I'm gone." He presses his face into Yuki's hair. "He'll protect you, Yuki. We both will."

She nods and pulls out of Kirishima's hold so he can get up, wiping his tears away. He does the same for Yuki before leaving the room reluctantly.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Yuki asks, peering up at the awkward hero.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea right now."

"Please, Tamaki. I want to know what happened to me." What did he do to break me...? Am I ruined for you?

"I didn't see what... happened to you. Kirishima found you first, so... he'll have to tell you."

She looks at her lap. "Can you tell me about the Quirk user?"

"A little."

"Will you tell me?"

"C-Can I... Can I sit next to you?"

She nods and scoots over on the bed, wincing at the ache between her legs that halts her heart momentarily.

"Are you okay?" Tamaki instantly reaches out for her at the sight of her pain.

"I... I think so..." No.

He settles beside her and ponders if he should take her hand. He's not sure how to act around her anymore, fearful of triggering her or upsetting her. Thankfully, Yuki takes his hand and squeezes like it's her last lifeline.

"His Quirk is Suppression. He can... mute any of the five senses within his vicinity. Fewer people make it easier to mute up to four senses of a single target. The more people he targets... the fewer senses he can suppress."

"That's why I couldn't see or hear... I remember that."

Tamaki nods slowly. "His Quirk tricks the brain, too, so he can also paint pictures in anyone's head while using his Quirk on them. Do you... Do you remember seeing anything?"

"Flowers. A lot of flowers. One... A rose... it poked my finger, but it hurt everywhere."

"He mentioned he tried to fill your mind with... with things that make you happy. The thorn may have been a distraction for when Tanaka..." He can't finish his statement.

"Oh... maybe." Yuki feels the prickling at the back of her eyes. "What's going to happen to him?"

"I'm not sure. He won't... He won't end up where Tanaka goes, but he won't get off without punishment for aiding a criminal. I think... I think he wants to receive justice for his actions."

"Is it wrong for me to feel bad for him?"

Tamaki shakes his head. "He was being used... with no way out. And every time he was asked to-to suppress... he did what he could to ease the... the trauma."

"That has to count for something..." Yuki curls up against Tamaki, her free hand grasping at the front of his shirt. "Thank you for everything you've done for me tonight. You and Kirishima mean so much to me."

Tears well up in the hero's eyes as he pulls her into his arms to hold her properly. "I'm sorry you... you were put in this situation... We'll do better to protect you... I'll do better."

"You didn't know... None of us did." Her grasp on his body tightens. "We all have to live with it... and get stronger." I hope...

[alaskaayoungg15]

How I went from a hard worker to a smart worker

We all have experienced this dilemma at work - should I work more or less. Many of us work extremely hard but don't see the results. On the other hand, we see co-workers who don't seem to be putting efforts or contributing anything substantial, earning way more than us. Why is that? What do they do differently? If you knew what they do, would you continue working your ass off? Clearly, no.

The underlying issue

People who let others walk all over them suffer from serious self esteem issues. I know this because I was a poster child for insecurity. From getting zero promotions to zero hikes, I have seen it all. Before I learned where I was going wrong, I had to go through a lot of painful experiences. But I arrived! and that's my story.

I hope whoever reads it knows they're not alone and these experiences teach us that there's no good in being too good ->

My story

I was a hard worker myself - I liked to show people that I was always working. I liked them to feel they could bank on me and call me any time any day. And they did, happily! Because what else did they want? Someone to take some or ALL the load off their shoulders? In return, I simply hoped for a big promotion or a raise, but guess what happened? I NEVER got promoted. You must be thinking I wouldn't have been efficient at my job. Well, I got many recognitions for my work including a couple of awards, but no promotions no money that I could credit to my hardwork and that could translate into something rewarding. So, finally I convinced myself that the company was battling a financial crisis, it wasn't not their fault that they weren't able to pay me. So, I should move on.

Switch one

I changed my job. This time, I thought I would work even harder and followed the popular mantra - boss is always right. He is right because he is more qualified and experienced than me. You see the low self-esteem there? I could see him making errors and making poor judgements but no, I continued to have tunnel vision when it came to my boss. I continued working my ass off on whatever bullshit assignments he would give me. I knew that the project wasn't gonna work out because it had loop holes but I never cross questioned. Continuing to do what he would instruct me, I would say to myself - now I'm going to get the promotion I deserve because I've made him happy. Guess what? Nothing - nada.

Switch two

I switched again. But in this job, I changed my approach a tiny bit. I was scared of adopting a new attitude but I was desperate for change. So I started working less from the beginning. Out of 10 hrs, I would work for only 4 hrs. But whatever I did, it was near perfect! I was collaborative, polite and very professional. I stopped working beyond work hours with a few exceptions, of course. I made it a point that people knew I wouldn't appreciate getting disturbed beyond work hours. I took on projects that I could do justice to. I would say No, ask for extension, refuse to take on projects that didn't make sense. I gave it back to people who would try to dump work on me. Guess what happened? I was promoted within a year. I won many awards and was appreciated by the global teams. I got a raise etc. etc.

Now you might think - perhaps my older bosses were crooks and the new boss was much nicer and professional. Well, having worked with the same mindset for 5 years and with the new mindset for just a year, you know it had little to do with the bosses.

Bottomline

1. Work less. Less is more. Make sure whatever you do is your best work!

2. Say No! Don't let your coworkers take advantage of your niceness. Take pride in saying you have personal commitments and would have to pass work this time. 3. Be assertive with your opinions. Always present your points with data and research. You don't have to take up projects that serve you no good.

4. Develop your skills. Writing, speaking, reading, problem solving - all these skills are career sifters. Develop them and you wouldn't have to do the clerical & operational work.

5. Strategize. Plan. Execute. Spend more time sharpening your axe than chopping the wood.

Final words ->

You need to first believe that you're worthy of respect. You are highly skilled. You deserve to get paid well. Be confident. There's nothing to be scared of. There's no dearth of jobs but good people. Companies need good people more than we need them. You just need to claim your space. Jobs are nothing but stepping stones for your career. Don't take them so seriously than you forget who you are!

Love xx

[cxnscience]

Jiminy eyes her with a frown, folding his arms uncomfortably. It isn't as though he likes bringing it up. The reality of the situation. Constantly tethering the both of them to the ground even if it means they're unhappy. But it's hard for him to forget the risks, even for as easy it is to get caught up and lost in a moment or two. He's mortal. And she stands to lose everything she's ever had and cared for. If the other fairies who fell in love were meant to serve as a cautionary tale, a word of warning - well, it was at least effective in working on Jiminy. But maybe it's easier for him to fret about this sort of thing, as close to the ground as he is while she's all the way up there.

"And that's gonna work?" He sounds doubtful and it's less of a question, more just pointing out that it's a rather flimsy solution - though, if he's being fair, it has worked out in their favor so far. He calls her his boss or maybe, if he's feeling bolder, they're coworkers. People don't ask too much after that and the biggest problem he faces is being accused of questionable workplace relationships. "Milady, you don't gotta put a name on somethin' for everybody to know what it is. There's that, uh... oh, what's the thing that William wrote about the roses."

He snaps his fingers but the specifics of the phrase have left his mind and it doesn't matter, anyway. Point is, it won't be enough, not if they really start looking, and he wonders when that will come. Jiminy's been lucky. Nobody else up there cares about him. What if they start to? Love is easy to read on a person. How many people have spotted it on his face every time he talks of her? Or looks at the stars? But maybe she's more composed than he is. She's certainly always seemed that way to him. Maybe for her it isn't the type of feeling that eats you from the inside out in a way you can't hide. Maybe it really is that easy. But he can't help feeling uncertain.

"Anyhow, I... I'm not so sure street smarts are gonna be of any help," Jiminy continues, and his gaze darts skyward, lifting his head and wringing his hands together. "I've spent my whole life down here, ma'am, and I don't think that's liable to change. I don't know nothin' about the rules up there. Or the other fairies - or any kinda fairies! Just you, milady." And he isn't doubting her own intelligence, certainly, but... the other fairies, ones in this sort of situation - well, clearly they couldn't figure anything out. And just because she's been around for years (and years, and years, and years) doesn't mean she's experienced in this particular department.

...Unless she is.

"You must've known, uh... must've... there must've been other folks - um, mortals you... you... you know," he trails off, mouth feeling a little dry. Loved. She loved. But speaking the word aloud is a very heavy thought when he still feels as though it's something he doesn't deserve and hasn't earned. Oftentimes he's still uncertain that's really what it is, at least on her end. It seems too grand, coming from someone like her. He knows better than to run from it, but calling it by name makes it a little too real and frightening. "What'd you do then? If... if you don't mind my asking. How'd you manage?"

It isn't allowed. She's constantly and actively breaking the rules while a cosmic laser beam is fixed on her and Jiminy. One of these days they'll zap him first to send a message. They always made their point. Always... She reaches up to fluff her hair and tries to feign perfection. Everything is fine. Everything will be fine. Just fine... "If we don't give it a word and we don't... perhaps that'll be enough." Separated across the Milky Way and just one night. What's going to be their punishment for defying the rules? She's usually so composed but other than her hair being so perfect and well kept, she's starting to fall apart. "We'll think of something. We're both smart individuals. I've been around a near-eternity. You've got street smarts. We can think of something." When she finally looks back to Jiminy, the façade has shattered. She's not stoic anymore. She's an emotional, nervous fairy that seems to be too shaky to keep to one thought. "I can't live like this anymore... Not without you. Not knowing if-" She chews on her lower lip.

[theivorybilledwoodpecker]

Any advice on dealing with a coworker with low self-esteem issues who can be a bit demanding?

I have a bit of a complicated problem. My coworker started about half a year ago. She is older and more experienced than I am, but I've been at the company for a much longer time, so it's a strange dynamic. I'm not her manager. We hold the same title. At the time we were short staffed and easily had three times the amount of work we could handle. We didn't have much time to train her, so it seemed natural when she'd interrupt my work to ask questions that she could have answered herself. It was annoying, but I put it down to uncertainty due to a less than ideal onboarding.

Since then, I've set up training meetings once a week. Due to workflow and alternating schedules, we don't always keep them, but since I sit right next to her, I often teach her how to do things outside that time period; it's just so that we have it on the calendar. In addition, we have reference materials. Now, she doesn't ask me as many questions, but she still does so frequently. In addition, they're often questions that can be answered by consulting our reference materials. Often I'm not entirely sure of certain answers, so I look it up for her. I'm not saying that she never uses the materials, but she's more likely to ask me or another coworker.

I believe she just has very poor self-esteem, as she's always making self-deprecating comments about her skills and intelligence. I try to compliment her when she does this, but she does it so often that it's difficult to do so every single time. She might feel that she needs someone else to make the decision because of a lack of trust in her own judgment. If I'm distracted, she seems to take it as me judging her.

I want to help her, but she seems to need daily affirmation, and I'm not her supervisor. I have work to get done of my own, and I can't give her the amount of attention she seems to need.

Today she got angry with me for a reason I don't completely understand. I don't spend a long time saying goodbye to my coworkers at the end of the day, but I always say goodbye, see you tomorrow, that sort of thing. Today, as I was getting ready to leave, she snapped, "You always do this to me! Just, 'Well, I'm done!'"

I pointed out that I always say goodnight. None of my other coworkers were in, so I couldn't gauge whether others feel I'm too abrupt, but I honestly don't know what she wants or means.

It's possible sometimes, I'm not entirely open to her when she needs it. She talks to herself frequently, which makes it hard to tell if she's asking me something or thinking out loud. Sometimes it's distracting, so I put in ear plugs. But the fact is that I can't respond to every statement she makes as if it were a question because she talks to herself so much that I would never get anything done.

I'm frustrated because I really do feel bad for her. I want her to have more confidence, and I think it's terrible that she feels as if she's stupid. But she needs more than occasional affirmations, and I can't give her the near constant attention she seems to crave. Any advice?

[arospacecase-moved]

[ID: a reddit post by user Macracanthorhynchus that reads:

I don't know if I buy my own conspiracy theory, and I'm not entirely sure what exactly the “conspiracy” is, but I'll repost the same thing I always post when this question is asked:

I had a Vietnamese roommate in college. One time someone mentioned apples and my roommate said he could rip them in half. We all called bullshit and so he did it to shut us up. It was pretty cool. But then he claimed that "All Vietnamese people can do it." That didn't sound right.

So now whenever meet a new Vietnamese person, I ask (in as polite and not creepy and not racist a way as I can) if they can rip an apple in half, and I'll be damned if every person I've ever asked goes "Yeah, sure!" Also, most of them follow up with "...all Vietnamese people can rip apples in half."

Then I always ask if that's just how people in Vietnam eat apples, and they always say "No, we just eat them the normal way, but all Vietnamese people can rip them in half if they want to."

I truly don't know if I'm being trolled or not. If I ask the question and have an apple, I'll always give it to the person who claims they can do this, and they always can, so there's some truth to it... but I cannot figure out why, in my experience, almost all Vietnamese people claim that all Vietnamese people can rip apples in half. That's a weird thing to claim. How are they so sure about what every other Vietnamese person can do? Are they implying that Laotians and Thai people can't do this? Is it a special trick they teach only in Vietnam? I would never claim that "All Americans can juggle" or that "All white people can juggle"... See, I don't even know if they're suggesting it's a racial trait, or a cultural skill.

Or is it that Vietnamese people are just really proud of their culture, so they like to fib about the skills everyone else has? And then when tested with an apple, all Vietnamese people are just so confident that they're awesome enough to do it that they just brute-force the apple in half?

Or was there a meeting once, and all Vietnamese people realized that they could help each other by making wild fruit claims about the skills of the Vietnamese so that they could trick dumb white boys like me into giving them free fruit to test their powers?

I would welcome any data anyone else can offer on this. My sample size is admittedly small, about 8 Vietnamese people, so this could just be a statistical fluke. But when 6 people, who have almost certainly never met each other before, independently claim that all Vietnamese people have fruit powers, it makes you wonder whether it might just be true.

Follow-up notes:

1) Yes, I understand that plenty of non-Vietnamese folks can rip an apple in half. Hell, I can do it too. That doesn't make the Vietnamese fruit claims that I've experienced less peculiar.

2) Yes, I know that British comedian Bob Mortimer can do this.

3) By my rough estimate from past comments in previous threads, for every Vietnamese person claiming that they've never heard of this, there's another Vietnamese person claiming that all Vietnamese people can rip apples, and yet another non-Vietnamese person who asks a coworker or an in law or a friend and learns that they can rip apples. Of that last group, it seems like about half of the Vietnamese people asked add "Oh yeah, all Vietnamese people can do that."

4) Let me address all Vietnamese people for a second: If a bunch of people give you free apples to test this, and you like apples, enjoy! If you get a bunch of annoying fruit inquiries that you don't want to deal with, I'm sorry. But really, is it my fault for accurately reporting my experiences with Vietnamese folks, apple ripping, and Vietnamese folks' claims about apple ripping? Or should you really be annoyed at all of my past Vietnamese acquaintances who have made these claims? Anyway, at least hopefully this is more fun for you to talk about than the war.

(end text) /END ID]

this is genuinely the most interesting thing i’ve seen on reddit in several months