#because i think if it continues i will die with it

[worshipthecrow]

"Meeting the parents"

Summary: You received a call from your mother while you were with Sylus, your parents want to meet your boyfriend.

Content: Sylusx Female! Reader, Reader is exaggerating the situation in her head, death threats.

A/n: I introduced Sylus to my parents with the tete-a-tete function and more or less the things that happened are portrayed here, some comments were made after explaining them the whole game and stuff. English is not my first language, if you find any mistakes, let me know so I can correct them.

One, two, three breaths you took before opening the door and stepping inside with your heart pounding in your chest and cold sweat on your back, Sylus was waiting for you to return from your phone call.

His shirt half open and his lips swollen from the long kissing session would be a hot and inviting sight if it weren’t for your mother’s voice booming in your brain.

We want to meet him, you’ve been with him for how long? A year? And you still haven’t brought him home, if that was a lie don’t worry honey, my friend’s son is still single and very handsome.

Your mother’s playful tone made you frown, you exchanged a few more words and hung up the phone.

He smiled sideways at you, waiting for you to sit back on his lap to continue.

“Hey…” you didn’t let him finish when the words came out of your mouth like a suppressed cough, fast and violent “

“My parents want to meet you”

You noticed the slight change in his gaze and posture, but then he relaxed again, held out his hand for you to take, which you did without thinking because of habit, and making you sit on his lap, tangling his finger in a lock of your hair.

“When?” a simple question, you expected more, maybe nervousness, maybe that he would refuse, but there was only one question.

Why don’t you bring him tonight? I’m making pork ribs, your favorite, it would be a good time to meet him.

It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order said sweetly with a little threat.

“Tonight” you whispered, he hummed caressing the skin on your arm, nervousness didn’t let you enjoy the sweet touch.

“All right, if that’s what you want, sweetie” you let out a heavy sigh you didn’t know you were holding in.

And for the rest of the afternoon, it was you, stressed to the bone that what would happen in this inevitable disaster, someone would die, and you hoped it would be you, just to get away from this situation.

Sylus took you to your parents’ house on his motorcycle, you would have preferred to go by car, taking advantage of the traffic to get ready or to fake an emergency, but no, the way was too short and fast and now that you were in front of the door you wanted to vomit your guts on the floor.

It was he who rang the doorbell, just long enough to be heard but not annoying, the door was opened by your mother, the image was endearing, the chubby little woman greeted the two of you with a sweet smile letting you in, she still had her apron on, wet and you guessed she was washing the utensils she used to cook.

Your father was in the living room, you noticed the tiny sauce stain on his shoe, and you knew that today, of all days, would be the worst day of your life, nothing good came out of it when your father was helping your mother cook.

Your mother called everyone to the dining room, your stomach was doing somersaults, you walked stiffly to your seat, Sylus, out of habit, opened the chair for you to sit down and then sat next to you.

Your mother served your plate first, as always, the smell of the ribs, that delicious smell that always made your mouth water made you feel the worst nausea you had ever experienced in your life.

You watched her prepare your father’s dish, and the familiar fight of “one more” “no, the doctor said to watch your cholesterol” took some of the tension out of the situation, but knowing that the next dish to be served would be Sylus’ only reminded you of the chaos that was about to unfold, you prayed to any god that was willing to listen to you even though you had never been devoted to any of them.

Your mother took the plate placed two ribs and you held your breath as your mom’s voice came through your ears like the scream of a banshee.

“So, Sylus, what do you do for a living?” the smack of the mashed potatoes against the plate almost made you squeal.

“I run a family-owned business that covers a range of services and offers various products. We deliver fruit and even sell state-of-the-art technology and I work with a lot of talented individuals. If you’reinterested, I’d be happy to discuss it in more detail another time.”

You buried your fingernails in your thigh, the way your father bit into the rib meat made your heart stop for a second and the look on your mother’s face didn’t make you feel any better either, you slowly chewed the tender juicy meat, feeling it like lead in your mouth.

“And what do you do in your spare time?” your father’s piercing gaze said he wanted to give him a shot between the eyebrows, too bad that wouldn’t work, you knew it too well.

“My hobbies are very simple. I collect vynil records, play the organ, and occasionally sing. According to your daughter, my singing isn’t too bad.” The sideways smile made you blush as you shoved mashed potatoes in your mouth and avoided the zucchini from the boiled vegetables. “Do you like to sing? If so. You’re always welcome to visit my private karaoke bar.”

“Do you live with anyone? Your family?”

You bit into the carrot so hard that your teeth hurt.

“I live alone and I have a relatively flexible schedule” you blushed and drank from your pomegranate juice as your mother looked sideways at you, you knew what was going through her head. “I stay at my base most of the time. Otherwise, I’m in a hotel for business meetings or go to my private ranch when I need to unwind.”

Sylus smiled softly, and you swallowed saliva admiring how his factions softened.

“I own several beautiful horses, and one of them has grown particularly fond of your daughter. The two of them offer frolic together at the ranch. I like seeing her be carefree and happy” you held back a surprised gasp at his words, you needed to scream, preferably at your best friend, as you melted into a puddle of mush, that was too sweet, ugh. “… if I might ask, are either of you interested in shooting or racing?”

Now you wanted to scream, but out of hysteria, even though you were a wanderer hunter it’s not like your parents were too happy about it when they expected you to be something else, like a doctor, a lawyer, even a teacher, gun handling was always a constant discussion when you lived with them and expressed your desire to be a hunter.

“I have licensed facilities filled with the necessary equipment. You’re welcome to enjoy them to your heart’s content, while it might not be obvious at first glance, I’m very good at taking care of people”

You decided to concentrate on your plate, while eating, you blinked for a couple of seconds noticing something strange but ignored it in favor of continuing eating your pork ribs.

“Because of our time together, I developed new interests. I enjoy taking her to auctions and fashion shows, I like seeing her shine, And her happiness is my happiness”

Your heart stopped at the softness of voice, you wanted to cry in his arms and tell him you loved him, but that would be too dramatic at a family dinner and you could do that when you got back to his house in the N109 Zone.

“What about the future, hmm?” everyone had finished as they spoke, you felt a lump in your throat hard to swallow, what about the future indeed, you squeezed your glass as you took a swig.

“I’ll always support her with whatever she wants to do. I’ll also stand by her side without question”

The Table was silent for a few seconds while your father picked up the dirty dishes and your mother took something out of the refrigerator, you recognized the pot immediately, you had seen it so many times during birthdays, anniversaries, Christmas and New Year.

You got up and opened a drawer and took out a plate and helped your mother unmold the flan, the color of the caramel reminded you of your childhood, when on your birthday your mother made a small mold just for you, of Christmas fighting with your older brother for the last slice, which in the end you shared sitting on the floor playing on the console.

It had been so long since you had eaten your mother’s flan, that seeing it now was just a balm for your stressed heart.

You left the plate with the flan on the table carefully, your mother took the knife out of a drawer and returned to the table to cut it.

“Everything you said was very nice Sylus” your mother’s voice gave you a shiver that went all the way down your spine to the back of your neck. “But alas for you where you hurt her, I don’t want to see her cry because of you, because I swear every time you go out you are going to have to watch your back, because if I have to, I will disappear you and no one will ever find you, was I clear enough?”

The sight was hilarious, your mother, the short woman, shorter than you in fact, was threatening the leader of Onychinus with a kitchen knife shiny from the caramel for having cut the flan, with a sweet smile as she offered him the plate with the dessert.

Sylus wasn’t expecting it at all from the look of utter surprise on his face, accepting the plate with a sideways smile.

“Like crystal” he replied softly and your mother smiled again as she handed out the plates, you breathed easy that she hadn’t stabbed him, your father poured the coffee, you put sugar and milk in yours.

The rest passed relatively quietly, lighter conversations and your father constantly telling you to take care of yourself on your missions and your mother reminding you that you could always come home if you decided to quit your job.

After finishing dessert and coffee your father took you to the garage, saying he had something to show you, you followed him thinking it would be some new car he was repairing, or a modified motorcycle, but no, he sat in his folding chair and you sat next to him, nervous about leaving Sylus and your mother alone for too long, you didn’t know if she would try to stab him in the back.

“Does he treat you well?” your father looked at you with his dark eyes, the ones you had inherited, and you nodded.

“He does”

“He seems nice, and he has money” you nodded, uncomfortable about that last “I was worried, when he said he stayed in hotels, that he worked with “individuals”, I thought he would cheat on you” your heart pounded in your chest, you once had that same thought but the fact that Sylus would always answer your calls, messages no matter the time or place removed those doubts a long time ago, “but then, he started eating the zucchini off your plate when you put them aside and the looks, he looked at you like you were the moon, like you put the sun in the sky, it gave me diabetes”

And you laughed, so hard that you threw your head back as you laughed at the top of your lungs, you laughed until your stomach hurt and your father looked at you like you were insane even though he was smiling subtly.

Sylus appeared a few moments later as you were catching your breath, your cheek half numb.

“Your mother wants you to help her dry the dishes”

You got up from your chair and walked towards the door, when Sylus turned to follow you your father called him to talk to him, you looked at him and nodded, you weren’t worried, if your mother didn’t try to kill him your father wouldn’t either, you went to the kitchen and your mother greeted you with a cloth to dry the dishes and you waited.

“I like him” she said “I like that he talked about you like that, he almost doesn’t seem real” you snorted under your breath, wondering what the two of them must have said while you were gone. “Better than your exes, definitely”

You groaned, remembering that your closest group of friends from high school still called your ex from that time “evil cockroach”, and still laughed at his love misfortunes when they got to hear something about him, you were fine staying out of it, but your mean side also felt satisfaction when it turned out that his last girlfriend had dumped him.

“He has everything you like as well, music lover, animal lover, and I am relieved to know he has gun licenses, that means he will always be able to take care of you and you will have good weapons for your missions” your mother dried the flan pot and put it back in its special drawer.

“The hunters association provides us with enough guns” although you weren’t going to deny that the Harrier 700’s were your favorite.

“He’s very much in love with you” your mother evaded the subject of your job, as always, you knew her stance on your safety and the many times you had been scolded over the phone when you were in the hospital was reminder enough “tie him up”

“Mom!” you shouted, shocked, you knew she meant ‘marry him’ but with Sylus it could be very literal that matter.

“What? You would have cute babies” you covered your face in embarrassment, leaving the plate you were drying on the counter so as not to throw it on the floor “and he has nice buttocks”

“MOM!” you shouted in a high pitched voice, definitely embarrassed and your mother laughed at you, you were aware of Sylus’ attributes, but you didn’t want to discuss them with your mother.

“He hides things doesn’t he?” you nodded, calmer at the change of subject, although it wasn’t something you wanted to discuss either, you continued drying the plates and glasses. “But you know what it is?” another nod from you “Well, as long as you know it’s okay, but I don’t want to get you out of prison”

You rolled your eyes but smiled anyway, aware of the approval your parents were giving, your mother a little too enthusiastic, your mother and you finished drying the dishes just as Sylus and your father were coming back in.

The goodbye was better than the welcome and without the stress you felt tired all at once, you wanted to go back and sleep for the next week.

With a last hug to your mother and the mortification that she gave you a condom, you rode up behind Sylus on the bike and hugged him around the waist until you returned home.

You threw yourself on the bed, ready to accomplish your desires, Sylus pulled off your pants as you grunted and tucked you under the blanket, then lay down behind you, brushing your face with something, you opened your eyes and ripped the platinum package from his fingers and threw it on the nightstand, you cursed your mother.

“Don’t even think about laughing” you said through your teeth.

“You are kinda like your mom, she’s the one in charge isn’t she?” you sighed and laid on your back.

“Yeah, my dad has a bad temper, but my mom is the one in charge, if she says do it you do it” you saw his sideways grin.

“It runs in the family I guess, you’re bossy too, Kitten” he kissed your neck and even though you wanted to get mad you couldn’t, you were tired and wanted to sleep, until…

“What did you and my mom talk about?” The kissing stopped and Sylus lay back, towering over you resting his head in his palm and his elbow on the pillow.

“Your past relationships and veiled threats disguised as funny comments, who is ‘the evil cockroach’?”

“Ugh, my chronically unfaithful ex” you shrugged “that would be a better story to tell when you meet my friends, they make it funnier”

“Oh, so I’ll meet the group too?” the comment had come out of nowhere, but if you introduced him to your parents, who you were most worried about them meeting, your friends should be easier no?

“I guess so, although I’ll have to arrange the meeting when we’re all free” you were already getting a slight headache just thinking about squaring schedules so you could set up a meeting.

“I’ll be available whenever you want” you smiled softly at him, you were too grateful that he seconded you on all the things you wanted to do, whether they were ridiculously childish or not.

“I’ll talk to them tomorrow, now I want to sleep” you turned in bed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and put your face in the crook of his neck, Sylus wrapped his arms around your waist as he gently stroked your back.

You drifted off to sleep, as you thought about the best way to tell your friends that you wanted them to meet your mysterious boyfriend you talked about all the time. Maybe something like…

“Hey, do you guys want to meet my boyfriend?”

Yeah, that might be nice.

[thebreakfastgenie]

One of my college friends lost an internship that would have likely become a job offer in 2017 hiring freeze. I was aware of the recession, which started before I was a teenager but continued into my early teens. My family did okay because my parents both worked for public schools.

I am very aware of Trump's shutdown and I'm bracing for it to happen again. I'm finishing a masters degree in a field that relies a lot of public funding and I want to get a government job when I graduate. This was very far down the list, but it's one of a million reasons my life would better if Harris, who I voted for, had won.

I don't expect everyone to think it's funny to see people who hate the federal government and voted for the guy who wants to gut it be affected by that guy's hiring freeze. I think it's funny in a "fuck around and find out" way. It's fine if you don't. That doesn't mean my actions are determined by my ability to get some dark humor out of this.

Healthcare is tied to employment, but there are others to get it (which you can thank Democrats for). I was specifically contrasting the people crying about their job offers with someone who might lose Medicaid coverage. There's a difference between not being able to get any job and not getting a specific job you thought you were getting. Yes the job search is very hard and those people may face a period of unemployment but it's not the same as not being able get healthcare. A specific job that makes accessing things that should be human rights easier is not equivalent to the rights themselves. Most of the people who lost job offers to the hiring freeze will not instantly lose healthcare, food, and housing, and if they're complaining about the job itself and not any of those things they're probably in that majority. I thought I had made this abundantly clear by now, but I have nothing but strong feelings of sympathy for and anger on behalf of people who are affected by this hiring freeze who did not vote for Trump. I don't feel that way about Trump voters, but I also don't have it in me to point at laugh at someone losing healthcare no matter the circumstances.

I know we're all used to meeting young people who are unaware of things, but please don't make assumptions about me based on my age. I have a bachelor's degree in government and studied the periods of American politics you're referring to in some of my classes. It's possible to be aware of things you did not live through or lived through as a child. My paternal grandparents lived through the Great Depression as children, on a farm in Indiana and in a small mill town in rural Maine respectively.

Hard times are here, harder times are coming. You say in your tags "we're all in this together." Well, I'm not. I'm not "in this" with the people who chose this. My heart and my principles extend far enough to not want them to die from Medicaid cuts but they don't extend that far. I'm in this with the people who tried to stop and the people who didn't get a say.

I do actually care marginally about the guy in that reddit screenshot who voted for Trump and is now worried that he might lose his medicaid funding because I did not fucking stutter when I said healthcare is a human right but the people losing their internships and job offers to the hiring freeze are straight up hilarious.

[clare-875]

Flirting For The Mission (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)

_____ Pairings: Luffy x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Zoro x Reader Summary: You go undercover and flirt for information, your boyfriend doesn't particularly like it. Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Harassment, Unwanted Touching/Kissing [One Piece Masterlist] _____

- Luffy -

The man in front of you is charming, or at least that's what he claims as he talks to you. "Women just can't seem to resist me it seems-" You force yourself not to sigh and not to leave your place next to him as you try to remind yourself what is at stake. Your crew was undercover again, on an island full of powerful enemies, and half of you had gotten captured. In desperate need of information, you had volunteered to flirt with this man, but you hoped the grimace on your face had contorted into a believable smile.

Fortunately for you, this man is so in love with himself he barely seems to notice, but unfortunately for you, it means you have to try a bit harder to get him to spill the information for you. You lean closer tilting your head in mock interest and you force a laugh from your throat at a tasteless joke he spills. He looks up and meets your gaze, eyes sparking in what seems to be surprise and desire; maybe he had finally looked at you properly instead of getting lost in his rants about himself.

A short distance away, Luffy, Zoro and Nami watch from a distance. Unfortunately for you, Nami had already been recognised by the enemy earlier on and so she hadn't been able to take your place, more required to keep a low profile. She was eying you carefully whilst Zoro indulged in drinks and Luffy indulged in the meal placed in front of him. In all honestly, Luffy had been so distracted by the prospect of food he had barely registered the plan that was actively taking place.

"Numi whe-re's [y/n], 'might be hungfy foo!!"

An irk mark rises on Nami's forehead as she hears Luffy's words muffled with the plates of food he devours. "She's trying to get us information, idiot! Were you even paying attention to the plan?!" She whisper-shouts to her Captain who tilts his head in utter confusion, hands not stopping as he continues to reach for food. "Reaflly? Where?" He swallows another plate-full harshly as he grabs a piece of meat. Nami nods her head in the direction of you.

You had leant even closer to the man in front of you, to the point where you were reaching for his hand and causing him to flush red at the proximity. You smiled prettily and gazed up and through your eyelashes, your dress revealing soft flesh that the man couldn't help but admire. He whispers something in your ear that has light laughter fill the air, though Luffy only thinks of the fact that it sounds more strained than usual. Your Captain doesn't know why a sudden twisting feeling erupts within him at the sight of you and him.

"Wow, so you're a commander of this lot, are you?" You say in what you hope is a teasing tone, playing with the man's hands in what you hope is a believable flirt. You nod to the others who are at the bar where you and some of your crew reside; at the men who enjoy their drinks and their meals. "Impressive, isn't it sweetheart? You know, we even captured some of the Strawhat crew this morning. They're nothing compared to our strength-" Finally, a glint of a true smile makes its way onto your face at his words. "Is that so..."

Back at the table, Luffy pouts and suddenly and surprisingly to Nami, slows the pace at which he eats as he watches you. "Why's she there with him?" Nami sighs deeply, though she looks proudly at the way you seem to be getting them the information they so require. "I told you, she's getting information. We need to find out where they're keeping Sanji and the others." Luffy's frown remains on his face. "Why can't we just beat them up?" Nami keeps her eyes trained on you. "Because we don't want unnecessary fighting-"

Her words seem to die on her tongue however as she witnesses a sight she wishes she didn't have to.

You had been about to leave the man in front of you, having got the information you required. But, in your distraction and excuses, you hadn't seen as he leant forward, and suddenly his lips were on yours. Freezing in utter shock, you pushed him back and away as bile rose within you. You see a flash of his confusion before all of a sudden he is flung from the seat in front of you, your boyfriend standing from his seat with an outstretched fist in the air.

Steam seems to unravel from Luffy's skin, his eyes sharp with an anger you have only seen in battles. He pulls his arm back to him from where he has punched the man who had harassed you. "Hey, what do you think you're doing to [y/n]!!" The man you had just taken information from was now unconscious, but his subordinates took notice of your boyfriend's actions. "Hey, it's Strawhat Luffy!!" Zoro takes it as a cue to retrieve his swords but it is for naught as Luffy goes on a rampage, fists flying along with the bodies of men.

You look on in shock until Luffy finally finishes and makes his way to you. "Luffy I-" But before you have the chance to continue, he has connected his own lips to yours, making your words falter in your mouth. When he lets go, Nami and Zoro are looking at you dumbfounded as Luffy grins at you. "There, all better." You blink in utter surprise until a soft, true smile reaches your face, causing Luffy's insides to churn in warmth. "Thank you, Luffy." Your boyfriend grins wider, satisfied with your contentedness.

"No more kissing for information next time! We can just beat them up!"

You continue to smile and try not to roll your eyes.

"... okay Luffy."

- Sanji -

"You expect me to stay here while that no-good, brainless, revolting, bastard touches my [y/n]-chan so carelessly?!"

Zoro's teeth clenched together in blunt irritation at the crew's cook who looks like he is about to explode from the utter rage that fills him. "Yes, now would you control yourself, damn cook?!" Sanji's anger remains on his face, fire building in his eyes at the nonchalant expression on Zoro's face, vastly contrasting his own. "Get out of my way!!" Sanji tries to side-step the swordsman who pulls out two of his swords. "She said she can handle it!"

There is then a flurry of movements as Sanji and Zoro attack each other, legs kicking and swords slicing. They continue only for a short moment, however, as Sanji hears your light laughter from within the building they wait for you outside. The two men pause, looking into a window and at the elaborate party that takes place from within it. As Zoro looks for potential threats, Sanji's eyes instantly go to you.

You are adorned in an utterly beautiful dress that elegantly glides across the space in which you walk side-by-side with a man you try to pry information from. Your group - the Sanji, Zoro, [y/n], group - had come to this Island later than other members of the crew after being separated. However, you had all learnt that Luffy and the others had been captured, resulting in the need to know exactly when and where. The place you were at now was large and full of enemies, so discretion was necessary, thus you volunteered to flirt with one of the executives in charge, much to Sanji's dismay.

Sanji's heart jolts in his chest as he looks at you from outside. How can you be so beautiful? You were like a goddess, an angel. But inside, Sanji felt as though he was also thrown into the pits of hell. The man you talked to was old and rich and completely enamoured by you it seemed. Your flirts and charm were working, as the man seemed entranced by the younger woman on his arm, showing such keen interest in him; Sanji's woman.

"So, powerful man, large mansion, elaborate party, what's the occasion?" You look up with sharp eyes glinting hypnotically; the older man is no match for you. "Well, we captured the Strawhat Crew this morning, if you could call that a source for celebration. Especially their Captain, though his bounty would only be enough to pay for this one party." You smile and let out light laughter, the sound like ringing bells to the man next to you, but it sounds strained to your boyfriend who listens in.

"Care for a drink?" The man holds out a glass of champagne, and you reach for it, but his hands linger and pull you closer to him so you are flush against his side. You force away the sick feeling in your chest and fight to keep the smile on your face at the sudden proximity of him against you. "Thank you," you murmur, as an uncomfortable feeling erupts within you. But you remind yourself you are so close, finally having heard the utterance of your Captain's presence here on this island. Your thoughts, however, are unlike Sanji's.

"That slimy bastard!"

Sanji's anger erupts with such vigour, that he is practically clawing at the glass he looks through, causing Zoro to have to push him back and away from the visibility of those inside. "Have you lost your mind?!" Zoro basically shouts at the cook, but Sanji retorts just as quickly. "Have you?! That's my girlfriend in there-" Zoro tries not to slice off the head of his crewmate, not understanding why he finds it so hard to let you just do what you need to do.

Lucky for him though, amid Sanji's incoherent rambling you have finished your task and were running up to them. "Hey, guys!! I got the information!" Sanji instantly freezes his words and turns, whilst Zoro finally lets his headache ease. "Finally-" "My Love!!" Sanji turns to you instantly, heart in his eyes at the sight of you still adorned in your dress. His hands however then reach for yours, suddenly as serious as his sudden happiness had come.

"Are you okay, love?" You smile gently at the concern that brims in his gaze but you nod easily, finding comfort in the presence of your boyfriend. "I'm fine, but I think we need to go quick before he notices I haven't just gone to the bathroom." Sanji seems to tense once more at the remembrance of the man and how he had touched you, but you seeing that, gently kiss his cheek before guiding him away. "Come on!" Sanji can't seem to say no to you as he nods hesitantly, all the while Zoro grumbles under his breath about how the show of your love has him nauseated and confused.

"Don't pull that lovey-dovey shit while I'm around-"

"Shut up Marimo!"

- Zoro -

"... I don't like this."

Zoro's voice was low as he eyed your figure by the bar, teeth gritted against the other. You were adorned in a beautiful black dress, one you know that he loves, one the man in front of you is enjoying a bit too much. "She'll be fine, she can handle this." Nami rolls her eyes at your protective boyfriend and the permanent frown on his face. He could trust you in battles to take down a thousand men, but not one at this bar who looks to you in clear desire.

"Why couldn't you do this?" Zoro sharply retorts, grip tightening against his bottle of sake to the point where it creaks beneath his fingers. "[y/n] knows these people, and you know we need to keep a low profile if we want to find where they're keeping Luffy and the others." Nami sighed as she thought of the crew who had somehow become captured again by powerful enemies. They needed information, and you were their best bet; it was the best plan they'd got.

Zoro stays silent to Nami's words, eyes not wavering from yours. He can see how you force a smile, hands lingering on the arms of the man in front of you flirty. You batted your eyelashes and laughed, making Zoro's insides churn. He tries to control his emotions and his haki that threatens to spill out from within him, cursing the way you have him so wrapped around your finger. He takes a rough swing of his beverage and continues to brood in the low lighting of the room next to Nami.

You, on the other hand, are getting bored beyond your mind listening to this man talk to you about his role on this vast Island controlled by pirates. The only reason you knew anything of these pirates was because their Captain had taken a liking to you many years ago, before you joined Luffy. But now you see how lucky you were that you rejected his advances to join such a revolting crew. The man in front of you reeks at the proximity you both share and his hand is coming dangerously close to your upper thigh.

"We actually captured a bunch of rookie pirates tonight, the crew of some idiot with a straw hat." The man continuously seems to lose himself to the alcohol in his grasp, but your heart jumps at the mention of your Captain's name. Finally. But just as you are about to get him to expand, that is when his lingering hand finally grasps for the flesh of your upper thigh, his yellowed teeth flashing beneath a sickening smirk. "So, sweetheart-" His words are cut short with the sound of shattering glass.

"Zoro!" Nami whisper-scolds the swordsman and tries to tug him back to his seat to very little avail. "That bastard..." The shattering of glass had been from Zoro's bottle of sake, its contents now spilt upon the table and his unrest causing many eyes to turn to them. But Zoro doesn't care anymore. All he sees is the uncomfortable expression on your face, the grimace that you try to contort to a smile, the hands of a man that isn't his on your figure; the woman he's meant to protect. He witnesses you try to pry back the attention of the man as you lean close to him, making him sick.

"Zoro, come on, please!" Nami continues to whisper as eyes still linger on her and the swordsman. Zoro finally turns to meet eyes with the navigator and her touch falters on his shirt as she looks at the deadly glint in his eyes. Zoro knows what is at stake, but isn't used to being forced to stay put when you are so uncomfortable. He knows what is at stake, but at what cost? At least on battlefields, he can step in if he deems it necessary. He grits his teeth defeatedly and sits back down, eyes now trained on the table to try to control himself.

It feels like eons when you finally make your way back to them.

"Okay, I know where they are we can go now!" Zoro's eyes snap upwards to meet your warm gaze, before travelling behind you to the man asleep on the bar table, most likely your doing. His hand itches for his sword to go and make sure that when the man wakes, he will have no wretched hands any longer, but he recedes. "Let's go," Zoro's voice is short and sharp and he avoids your gaze. Nami rolls her eyes once more at his attitude as you give her a questioning glance, but she shrugs in response as you go to lead them to the crew.

Only a few moments pass when Nami goes to find the keys to where the crew are confined and you go to Zoro who leans against the wall of the room you are yet to enter. "Zoro," you murmur as his gaze reluctantly meets yours. "Are you mad? Look, it was all just to get information, you know I wasn't flirting with that guy on purpose I-" Zoro cuts you off sharply, as he eyes the way your eyebrows furrow together and he realises his anger of the revolting man had seemed like anger towards you.

"I know. I trust you."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and even more so when a slight flush reaches the tips of his ears. Your surprise then morphs into a sigh and a smile lingers on your face as you realise he had just been worried for you, and most likely trying not to commit murder of the man you had to manipulate for information. "If you want some consolation, I did give him a good punch to the ribs before he was knocked out." You whisper as you reach for his hand that had been clenched into a fist. It instantly unravels at your touch as he allows you to hold it and you guide it to the side of your thigh where the man had touched you.

Zoro's eyebrows seem to furrow, but he seems to concede to your words as he traces your figure, trying to eliminate the man's touch from your skin. "That's my girl." You grin as you look up to him when Nami sprints back to you, a hoard of men on her heels. "[y/n]!! Zoro!! Deal with them!!" In her grasp is the key to your crew's confinement and Zoro smirks as he readies his swords, seemingly more at ease now that you are next to him again.

"Mind if I take care of them?"

"By all means."

[gf2bellamy]

fear — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: after a difficult day at work, spencer is now convinced that continuing to date you puts your life in danger. content warnings: mention of death, talking about an officer watching his girlfriend die, lots of angst and sadness a/n: hello why did i break my own heart writing this

Spencer ascended the stairs to your apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Cases always took something from him, left invisible scars no one else could see. But this one? This one had carved into him deeper than most. 

By the time he reached your floor, he stopped, staring at your door at the end of the hall. His hand gripped the keys you’d given him months ago, the metal cold against his skin.

You had handed them to him with a soft smile, saying it just made sense considering how often he stayed over. He remembered the warmth in your eyes, the way you’d trusted him so easily. 

But now, standing outside your apartment, that memory only added to the knot in his chest. 

This case hadn’t just been hard—it had been devastating. The victim’s name echoed in his mind: a woman who had been vibrant, kind, and full of life until her boyfriend—a detective working the case—had been unable to protect her.

The unsub had used her as leverage, exploiting the detective’s devotion to gain the upper hand.

And just like that, she was gone. 

Spencer had watched the man crumble. The detective had blamed himself for being too close, for caring too much, for letting his personal life overlap with his work. 

It hit too close to home for Spencer. 

He took another step forward, his heart pounding as he stared at your door. His fingers tightened around the keys, and for a moment, he debated turning back. 

The words the detective had said haunted him. “If I hadn’t loved her, she’d still be alive. I should’ve kept my distance.” 

Spencer couldn’t stop thinking about it. Was he putting you at risk just by being with you? His job didn’t allow him to separate personal and professional—every case bled into his life.

Every loss, every fear, every failure. And if one day his work found its way to you? He didn’t think he could survive that. 

He unlocked the door, the familiar sound of the tumblers clicking echoing loudd in the quiet hallway.

The soft light spilling from the kitchen gave the space a warmth that felt almost jarring after the day he’d had. 

His gaze found you instantly, your back turned as you moved around the kitchen. You were making tea. 

He must’ve made some noise, maybe the soft click of the door closing or the shuffle of his feet, because you turned around. 

The second your eyes landed on him, your face lit up with a smile so genuine it made his heart ache. 

“Spence,” you said softly, setting down your cup without hesitation. You crossed the room in a few quick steps, your arms already reaching for him as you enveloped him in a tight hug. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close, while his instinctively settled around your waist. For a moment, he just stood there, letting himself be held.

You smelled like chamomile tea and faint traces of your favorite lotion—comforting and familiar. 

“You’re home,” you murmured against his shoulder, your voice filled with quiet relief. 

He swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. “Yeah,” he managed to whisper, his voice barely audible. 

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. Your brows knit together as you studied his face. “Rough day?” 

He nodded slowly, his hazel eyes dark and heavy with exhaustion. “You could say that,” he admitted. 

Your fingers moved to his face, brushing a stray curl from his forehead as you searched his expression. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He hesitated.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, his voice soft. He stared at you for a long moment, his heart aching with a mix of love and guilt. 

You studied him carefully, your brows furrowing as you tried to read him. Something was off—more than just the usual weight he carried after a hard case.

He wasn’t just tired; he was troubled, deeply so. 

“Do you want tea?” you asked gently, hoping to coax him into some sense of comfort. 

He shook his head, his movements stiff, almost mechanical. “I, uh…” he stuttered, his voice unusually small. “I’m not staying,” he mumbled, barely loud enough for you to hear. 

The words hit you like a jolt, and your hand, which had been resting lightly on his arm, fell away.

“Oh,” you breathed out, the single syllable heavy with confusion and concern. “Why? Are you okay?” 

You tilted your head slightly, searching his face for an explanation, but he barely met your gaze. His eyes darted everywhere but to yours. 

“I think we—” he started, then stopped abruptly. His jaw clenched as he closed his eyes, as though trying to summon the strength to get the words out. “I think we should break up,” he finally said, his voice cracking under the weight of it. 

Your mouth fell open in shock, the air suddenly feeling thick and hard to breathe. “What?” you whispered, barely able to process what you’d just heard. 

“I…” Spencer’s voice faltered as he ran a trembling hand through his curls, his shoulders slumping. “I just think it’s for the best,” he murmured, still refusing to meet your gaze. 

“For the best?” you repeated, your voice rising slightly in disbelief. “Spencer, what are you talking about? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No!” he said quickly, almost too loudly. He flinched at his own outburst, finally glancing at you before looking away again, his guilt written all over his face. “It’s not you. It’s not anything you did. It’s me. My job. My… everything.” 

“What?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with confusion and disbelief. You stared at him, trying to make sense of the words he was saying, but they didn’t seem real. Your brain felt foggy, like it was struggling to keep up with what was happening. 

Your chest tightened as you fought to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

Not now, not like this. 

Spencer still wouldn’t meet your eyes. His gaze darted to the floor, to the wall, back to the floor—anywhere but at you.

But occasionally, his eyes flickered up, and in those fleeting moments, you saw it. The pain. The guilt. His own tears welling just behind his lashes. 

“Spence,” you said again, your voice breaking as you bit down on your lip to steady yourself. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, so softly it was almost inaudible.

You shook your head, your brow furrowing as you stared at him, searching for some kind of explanation. “Where is this coming from?” you asked, the tremor in your voice betraying the effort it took to hold yourself together. 

“Why, Spence?” you pressed, your voice rising slightly, tinged with desperation. “Why are you doing this? I don’t understand.” 

His lips parted, but no sound came out. He seemed to struggle, as if the words he wanted to say were caught somewhere in his throat. He dragged a hand through his curls, a shaky breath escaping him as he finally forced himself to speak. 

“I don’t want to lose you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. 

You blinked, your tears finally spilling over. “Lose me?” you repeated, your voice breaking. “Spencer, what are you talking about? You’re the one pushing me away right now!” 

He winced at your words, his head bowing as though they physically hurt him. “Because I’m trying to protect you,” he said, his voice cracking. 

“Protect me?” You shook your head, utterly bewildered. “From what? Spencer, I don’t need protecting. I just need you.” 

His head snapped up then, his eyes finally locking onto yours, and the sheer pain in his gaze nearly broke you. 

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice shaky. “This job—it’s dangerous. Every day, I see how fragile life is, how quickly it can be taken away. I see people lose the ones they love because of… because of monsters like the ones we chase. And I—” He stopped, his voice catching. “I can’t let that happen to you. I can’t let you get hurt because of me.” 

You stared at him, stunned into silence for a moment. Then you took a step closer, your voice trembling. 

“And what about me?” you asked. “Do you think it’ll hurt less if you leave? Do you think I’ll stop worrying about you just because you’re not here anymore? Spencer, I’ll still love you. I’ll still worry. The only difference is I’ll have to do it alone.” 

Spencer shook his head, his curls bouncing slightly with the movement as a tear slipped free and traced a path down his cheek.

His lips parted, trembling with the weight of his words. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’m really sorry.” He repeated it, the words tumbling out of him like a mantra as if saying them enough times would make it all hurt less. 

And then he took a step back. 

“Spencer,” you uttered, your voice so quiet, so heartbreakingly fragile that it felt like it could shatter under the weight of the moment.

It was a sound he would not forget—a sound that would haunt him. 

His gaze flickered to your face, and when he saw the tears freely falling down your cheeks, his breath caught in his throat. You weren’t trying to hide them. You weren’t even wiping them away.

They were just there and it was his fault. 

He couldn’t believe that he was the reason for your pain. The reason for the hurt that now etched itself into every inch of your expression.

But he told himself it was for you. He told himself it was for your safety. 

Spencer cleared his throat, his voice hollow as he tried to explain. “There was an officer on this case,” he began, his words slow and deliberate, as though forcing himself to relive it. “He was one of the first responders to the crime scenes. Dedicated. Smart. He had been working the case for weeks, just like us.” 

You stayed silent, your watery eyes locked on his face as you listened. 

Spencer took another shaky breath, running a hand through his curls in frustration. “He had a girlfriend,” he said, his voice cracking on the word. “She wasn’t involved. She had nothing to do with the case—she wasn’t even in law enforcement. But somehow…” He trailed off, swallowing hard. 

“Somehow the unsub found out about her,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “And he—” Spencer stopped, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “He used her to get to him. Killed her. Right in front of him.” 

Your breath hitched, as you took in the horror of his words. 

Spencer’s tears were falling freely now, his voice trembling as he kept going. “I saw the officer after it happened. He was… broken. Completely destroyed. And I kept thinking… that could be me. That could be you.” 

“Spencer,” you said softly, but he shook his head, cutting you off. 

“You don’t understand,” he said, his voice rising slightly in frustration—not at you, but at himself. “Every single day, I walk into work knowing that I could lose someone I care about. Knowing that I could be the reason they’re gone. And if that someone, is you—” His voice cracked again, and he looked away, unable to finish the sentence. 

“But it won’t be me, Spence,” you said, your voice trembling but determined. You took a small step closer, desperate to reach through the wall he was building around himself. “It doesn’t have to be me. We don’t have to let fear decide this for us.” 

He didn’t respond, his jaw tightening as he stared down at the floor. You could see the battle raging within him—the love he felt for you colliding with the fear that had taken root in his heart. 

“Spence,” you said again, softer this time. “I know you’re scared. I know you’ve seen things I can’t even imagine. But just because something terrible happened to someone else doesn’t mean it’s going to happen to us. It doesn’t mean I’m going to get hurt.” 

He finally looked up at you, and the anguish in his eyes was enough to shatter your heart all over again. 

“You don’t know that,” he said, his voice low but steady, like he was forcing himself to say the words out loud. “You can’t know that.” 

You swallowed hard, your hands trembling as you reached for him again. “No, I don’t know that,” you admitted, your voice breaking. “But you don’t know it will happen either. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. No one does.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling deeply. “This is about protecting you.” he said quietly, shaking his head. “It’s about making sure that you don’t end up another name, another victim, because of me.” 

You stared at him, the weight of his words pressing down on you. “But you’re hurting me now,” you whispered, tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re so afraid of something that might never happen that you’re pushing me away before it even has a chance to.” 

Spencer flinched as if you had physically struck him, his shoulders sagging. He dragged a hand down his face, letting out a shaky breath. 

“I’d rather you hate me for this,” he said finally, his voice barely audible, “than lose you because of me.” 

The silence between you was deafening. You stood there, your tears falling freely now as the meaning of his words sank in.

He wasn’t going to change his mind. No matter how much it hurt him, no matter how much it hurt you, he was convinced this was the right thing to do. 

“Spencer,” you said, your voice breaking, “please don’t do this.” 

His breath hitched, and for a moment, it looked like he might break—like he might give in to the love that was so clearly written all over his face.

But then he closed his eyes, shaking his head as he stepped back once more. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the weight of his decision. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

And with that, he turned and walked toward the door, his footsteps heavy with regret. He paused for just a moment as he reached for the doorknob, his hand lingering.

But then he opened the door.

When he stepped out, the sound of it closing behind him was like the final nail in the coffin. 

You stood there, frozen in place, staring at the spot where he had just been. Your chest ached, your hands trembling as you tried to process what had just happened. 

Spencer Reid—the man you loved, the man who loved you—was gone. And no amount of love or pleading had been enough to stop him. 

So you stood there, letting the tears fall, your heart breaking for both of you. Because even though he had made his choice, you knew that he was walking away just as shattered as you were. 

[respectthepetty]

Blue Boy Faifa is the gift that keeps giving in episode fourteen of Perfect 10 Liners because I don't think he is even aware of how flirtatious he comes across ("I'm trying to get you to tell me your name"), yet he leaves the door unlocked for his brother to comfort his future brother-in-law even though he is pissed at Yotha. Once he realizes he wants Wine's attention, he is going to make the best boyfriend!

But Faifa and Wine might need Tawan's help to get there first.

Because he is the love guru whose spidey sense tells him when the color-coded gays are in love.

Tawan got these two opposites together!

And now red is publicly written over Yellow Yal Arm's heart for his Red Rascal Arc.

So now that Black Brooder Yotha is lighter because of Green Guy Gun, this could be them too!

Yotha already put a ring set square bracelet that is reserved for partners on it.

So Gun has permanent real estate on Cloud 9 much to the dismay of his barking Blue Boy besties when Kong seems to have a poly agenda, but Faifa's "Gentleness Shows Strength" shirt is really speaking to who he is as a character.

Because Faifa is still leaving that door open, so his brother and brother-in-law can continue whatever intricate queer ritual Yotha is committed to rather than just realizing he is IN LOVE!

Doesn't mean he isn't judging them when the morning comes.

It must be a Blue Boy thing because Kong is also judging Faifa for being "too friendly" with everyone and their mom, which is only building up more evidence to be *the* problem in the final story of Faifa x WIne.

But as long as these two color-coded boys in love can keep playing the daisy "he loves me… he loves me not" game who cares about some judgy friends.

Because Arm certainly doesn't care that his besties Green Guy Po and Blue Boy Sand are always judging him for being needy and clingy.

But Yotha also has to deal with his brothers and Neutral Newton is anything but neutral.

He is quick to throw Yotha under the bus about his love life, but I'm hoping this dad joins the elite squad of parents with THREE gay sons since Green Guy Po is out there looking for a boo while Newton is sitting there minding other people's business. Make it happen. Amen.

But now I have to see the exact moment Warit ripped Yotha's heart out and stomped on it. I get the reason, but I also get why Yotha is still so hurt by it. Yotha can't trust himself or what it is feeling because what he thought was love was a lie.

Also, Warit has a type, and it's damaged Black Brooder. Look at the pink light hit as they kiss instead of actually discuss their issues!

They are lucky they are beautiful because they are toxic af.

But I'm distracted by Gun, the light of Yotha's life, making a mistake of planning a weekend visit to his family with Yotha without actually speaking to Yotha first. Babe, your man has trust issues. You cannot spring this on him and expect a good response!

Not even Faifa being the one light thing in Yotha's dark room can coax this Black Brooder into trusting his heart again.

Now the usually happy and chill Green Guy Gun has to convince his color-coded buddies that he isn't in pain because Yotha is being distant at the mere suggestion that he wants something more real, yet nobody is convinced. Not at all. Not even a little.

Yotha is soooo light around Gun, but he is so scared to mess this up that he just keeps hurting Gun, and Gun just keeps smiling through it. They are practically wearing the same color, and I'm in a glass cage of emotions.

And Faifa can't really help either one of them through this because he sacrifices so much of himself for others that he ends up the only one suffering each time. Wine, as another Blue Boy, please be gentle with your future Blue Boyfriend. He will literally die if you don't help him.

Because he and his brothers are so traumatized that Yotha thought it was okay to tell Gun that he should leave him if he found someone to love him better, so now he is sitting outside a bathroom in a light shirt but a dark hallway,

While the light of his life is crying inside of it!

AND NOW THE DOOR IS LOCKED AT NIGHT!

BECAUSE GUN HAS LOCKED HIS HEART AWAY FROM THE DARKNESS! NOOOO!

And now Yotha is taking out the tie that has his birthday on it after imagining Gun back in his room. I'm on the floor. I'm crying into the tie. I'm using it like a Puffs Plus with Lotion, and I'm unwell about it!

No. Gun! Don't do that! Don't show that it hurts when Yotha touches you. Don't do that to my heart when you are basically wearing black because you love him. DON'T HURT ME LIKE THIS!

YES!!!! KISS! MAKE UP! BE BRAVE! BE HAPPY! BE LIGHT!

BE IN LOVE!

[minaminokyoko]

I usually don't add anything to text posts, but I need to vent for once--it has been pissing me off for the entire four years of Biden that the left did nothing but say Biden and Harris were useless and nothing was better than the Trump years. Y'all sat there and nitpicked Trump back into fucking office.

I've said it before and I'll keep saying it--The GOP never beats the Dems. The Dems fucking defeat themselves. They waste ALL their time in-fighting and putting down their leaders, not paying attention that continuously bashing them causes other people to become apathetic and believe this false narrative that either the Dems are just as bad as the GOP and voting is pointless or you bitched and moaned about Harris so much that too many people became apathetic and Trump got back in. I still don't think it's a legit win anyway, but y'all motherfuckers didn't fucking help the cause.

And now we may never get him or the GOP out again.

We told y'all to stop this constant fucking whining and you didn't listen, so now we ALL get to suffer and die. I don't care if you don't like Biden and Harris. You ain't supposed to like none of these bums, but you are supposed to stop a convicted rapist that sold government secrets to our enemies from getting back into fucking office. So I don't wanna hear all the bitching and whining about how this happened. Y'all made a concerted effort to tear the left down and you helped him walk his sorry ass right back in there. You know how I know that? There are physically more Democrats than Republicans in this country. We should NEVER FUCKING LOSE.

But we did. Because we beat ourselves. Unfuckingbelievable.

[skibasyndrome]

"please, speak to me" for the prompt thingy?🫶

Tinaaaa!!! Thank you so much for sending me this prompt! I'm extremely sorry for taking forever to write this, but here it iiiis.

Because I simply couldn't leave them in their messy little fwb situation, this is a follow-up to this drabble here.

Hope you'll enjoy! 💜💜💜

For the first couple of days, Wille is so caught up in replaying his last night with Simon that he doesn’t fully notice to which extent he’s being avoided. When he does, the realization hits him square in the chest.

Wille doesn’t think that, during the admittedly relatively short time they’ve known each other, he’s ever gone this long without speaking to Simon. They just clicked, right away, became friendly very quickly, became… more than friendly equally quickly. And up till now they’ve never gone this long without speaking, at least a little bit. Wille misses his friend’s presence next to him during the one lecture on postmodernism they normally attend together. And he misses the stupid jokes they tell each other in the cafeteria during lunch breaks. Wille texts Simon twice during the week following the incident. Both times, Simon answers quickly, but the conversations die down just as quickly. Wille knows he’s busy with exams, but this is different. Simon won’t admit that anything’s wrong, continues to throw Wille a quick smile every time they cross paths on campus. But before Wille has the chance to approach him, he’s gone again. It feels like something ended between them. And Wille doesn’t know what to do about it, let alone what to say. He can’t suggest they have sex again. Well. He would like to, but he won’t. Every time he thinks back to Simon storming off, he feels like an idiot. But any other suggestion feels almost more ridiculous. He can almost hear Simon scoff at him whenever he thinks of something new to say. They’ve never done anything else, they’ve been friendly at uni, then spent their time back in the dorms fucking. Anything beyond that feels like an imposition. In front of his mind’s eye, Simon is rolling his eyes and shaking his head at Wille’s suggestion for brunch on Sunday or a couple drinks Thursday night. And so he keeps them to himself, his silly suggestions. But by week two, Wille feels like he’s going to burst if he lets the scenario play out inside of his head another fucking time. He needs to figure this out, needs to fix whatever there is to fix. Right whatever wrong it was that Wille did. Even if this arrangement, whatever it was, is over for Simon, Wille wants them to part on good terms. And not have Simon think badly of him. He feels more than a little silly as he finds himself walking through the halls of the music lecture building. And even while he’s waiting outside of the room he knows Simon’s choir is practicing in, he almost gets up and leaves again two times. Scrolling on his phone is barely enough of a distraction. Especially when, from time to time, a few beautiful notes hit his ear, coming through the large door. This would be a lot easier if he didn’t immediately recognize the beautiful voice. or Or if he didn’t remember what other beautiful sounds that voice is capable of producing, under the right conditions. 

He clears his throat and rolls his neck, trying to banish those tempting images from his mind. He’s about to give up and leave again, go for a walk or go find something else to distract him from his own misery, when the door opens and a couple of students start streaming out. Wille immediately gets up from the random chair he’s found sitting in the hallway, straightens up, feeling weirdly caught and weirdly out of place. Before he can wonder if Simon will even notice him standing in the hallway like a lost little puppy, the door closes again. It leaves Wille standing face to face with the man he hasn’t gotten a proper look at in a very long two weeks. Wille raises his hand for an awkward wave and notices too late that he clearly must’ve interrupted a conversation between Simon and his choir teacher, who now looks between the two of them, visibly confused. Even she must notice that this amount of silence isn’t very normal. Giving Wille another once-over, she retrieves her key from where she was about to lock the door and hands it over to Simon. She tells him to leave it on her desk later before walking off. For a gratingly long moment it looks like Simon is about to run after her. When he turns back around to Wille he looks a little less panicked, albeit no less confused. His bag is casually slung over his shoulder, and something inside of Wille’s chest aches at the familiar picture. Instead of dwelling on it, though, he shakes his head slightly, takes a step towards Simon. “Hey,” he starts and tries to smile, but it must be coming off exactly as weird and forced as it feels, because Simon only nods at him. “Hey.” Simon’s own smile is late, seems a little out of place. Maybe there’s still time to run away. But when Simon opens his mouth to speak, a different sense of panic washes over Wille, so he simply has to blurt it out. “I wanted to see you.” The silence that follows Wille’s confession is clearly taunting him. Simon just looks at him with his brows furrowed. “And I wanted to talk to you,” Wille continues, and maybe it’s the way Simon’s gaze darts back and forth between Wille’s lips and his eyes that makes Wille go on.  “Because I missed you,” he says. And because he’s not made enough of a fool of himself.  “Miss you, I mean.” Simon only nods quickly and, for a second, Wille gets caught up in his eyes. It's been entirely too long since he’s gotten a proper look at them. If Wille didn’t know any better, the idea that he’s spent hours looking at them before would sound ridiculous.

Simon is the first to break contact. He clears his throat. “So…?” he starts, then trails off, lifting himself up and down on his tiptoes. “Can we talk?” Wille is practically pleading and, as if on cue, a student pushes his way past, apparently seeing no better path than going between him and Simon. “I mean, maybe…” Wille gestures towards the room and Simon catches his hint. He gives a curt nod, one that Wille can’t read. But he does turn around, and not to leave. He slips in through the door, Wille at his heels. And before Wille has any chance to take in the interior of the room, or think about what the fuck he’s supposed to do now, now that he’s gotten to this point, Simon is on him. Wille's back hits the door with a loud thud, his chest immediately colliding with Simon's. He lets out a strangles sound of surprise when he suddenly has an arm full of Simon. But even his moment of shock is cut short when Simon’s lips are on his. Finally again. Wille quickly melts into the touch, relishes in the way Simon licks into his mouth, almost like he's been plagued by the same desperate need that has rendered Wille sleepless for these past two weeks. Wille's arms close around Simon's middle, backpack and all, and Wille lets out a sigh of… something. Relief, probably, but also pleasure. This is what they're good at, this is a way in which they've always understood each other. This is what makes sense for them. So much sense that Simon has Wille heavily panting against his lips in no time, so much sense that Wille’s hands easily find their way into the back pockets of Simon’s jeans, like they’re two puzzle pieces. So much sense that it takes Wille a long time, many seconds, minutes maybe, to realize that this isn’t what he came for. Not really, not initially. He tries to pull back, not going far with the wood of the door right behind him. But Simon understands, moves back, then takes a big step away from Wille that causes Wille’s hands to slip out of his pockets. He weakly holds them at his side, suddenly feeling really awkward about just standing here. He clears his throat. “I…” It’s like Simon didn’t only take away his breath, but also his speech. Wille tears his eyes from Simon’s face, from the soft reddish hue on his cheeks, from his wet lips. “I wanted to talk about last time, what you said. I-” Simon interrupts him with a groan. “Can’t we just forget about this already?” He sounds frustrated, angry almost, but there’s a trace of desperation. Wille swallows hard, very unhelpfully notices Simon’s taste on his tongue. While every bone in Wille’s body is yearning to just get back to what they were doing, to get back to what’s always felt good, he knows he shouldn’t. Not like this. Not until he’s tried, not until-

Simon groans loudly again and moves towards the handle, trying to get past Wille. His rib cage contracts painfully at the sight, and his last resolve crumbles. “Wait, please, wait, Simon,” he tries, quietly, too quietly, but, fuck, how else is he supposed to say this. Without thinking about it, he goes in for Simon’s wrist, grabs it, squeezes once, then lets go again, suddenly terrified he’s making it worse. He back away from the door, stops blocking it. “I’m sorry, Simon, I don’t-” “Don’t say it,” Simon rushes out. As quickly as he reached for the door, he’s taking a few steps back again. Wille opens and closes his mouth again, entirely helpless. He’s not fucking following. He shakes his head, trying to make sense of it all. “But what you said then, and when you left-” “It doesn’t matter, okay?” Simon is pacing, and there’s too much distance between them for Wille’s liking, way too much. But he doesn’t want to reach out, doesn’t want to overstep, but, fuck he needs to fix this, he needs to understand, he needs Simon to tell him. He can’t keep wondering if maybe, just maybe…. When Simon stops pacing only to go for the door again, it bursts out of Wille. “Please, just speak to me!” He startles himself with his raised voice, and Simon stops dead in his tracks, head whipping around towards Wille. It’s Simon’s turn to gape at him, speechless.

He juts out his chin in defiance and crosses his arms. Wille’s heartbeat quickens when Simon turns towards him again. There’s a fire in his eyes that makes Wille feel like Simon is the one towering over him. For another few seconds, they just stare at each other, neither willing to be the first to break contact. It’s scary, tense, like any wrong move could shatter everything. Wille decides then and there that he’ll keep this up for hours if he has to, if it means that Simon isn’t going to run away again. But it seems like Simon has different plans. With a long, exasperated sigh, he turns away again. Wille watched his shoulders sag, watches him throw his head back in frustration. When he runs a hand up and through his curls, a silly part of Wille’s conscience wishes he could be the one doing that. “Look,” Simon starts, and Wille steels himself for whatever revelation might be coming his way. His eyes never leave Simon’s face, still. “I’m sorry, okay?” Wille feels his face fall. “I’m sorry that this isn’t what we wanted, I’m sorry that I said what I said, I just-” Simon tugs on his hair again and lets out a frustrated noise. “It’s okay,” he says, and suddenly all the fierceness drains out of his voice. When he twists his head to look back towards Wille, Wille’s pulse yet again picks up speed.

“It’s okay that you don’t want the same thing, it is!” Wille has trouble listening with his heartbeat hammering away at his temples. “We can keep doing this,” Simon gestures between the two of them ”I’ll be fine, I swear, can we just not talk about-” Suddenly, it clicks. Oh. “Stop,” Wille says, quietly, carefully, and it must be such a stark difference in tone that it’s unsettling. Simon immediately quiets down, enough for Wille to take a step towards him. To finally close the distance between them. Wille doesn’t think his pulse has ever been this quick without him nearing a panic attack. Once again, he swallows. “You’re saying that you… like me?” Simon presses his eyes shut, lets his head fall back in a movement of aggravation. “Wille…,” he groans, but there’s no edge to his voice, no hostility. He rolls his head back, looks pained, but he doesn’t withdraw, stays where he is. “Yes, I like you. That’s the whole point, that’s why-” Oh. Wille doesn’t waste another second, doesn’t give Simon any more time to misunderstand him. With a fervor that’s entirely new in its intensity, he rushes forward. One hand on Simon’s neck, the other reaching for Simon’s arm, linking their fingers together loosely, Wille kisses him. He kisses him and kisses him and lets out a pathetic little noise when Simon presses back after a moment, returns the kiss with equal force. Fuck. Wille can’t keep it in any longer. A wave of relief washes over him, strong, intense, warm, just like Simon. Wille giggles into their kiss, breaks away from Simon’s lips. When he does, he doesn’t pull away, rests his forehead against Simon’s. And he simply can’t hold back his stupid grin. “I like you too,” he says and fuck, that feels a lot like butterflies. “A lot.”

Send me one of these prompts for a short lil story 💜

[snoopyiz]

‘ drown to impress ’ feat. LARA RAJ

─── ﹙🪼﹚ Lara has never even thought about swimming, until she found out you were on the swimming team. Going from just barely waking up to be present in her first period to being up at 6am everyday was a struggle, especially since her body wasn’t used to it. The worst part? She didn’t even know how to swim.

PAIRING(s): lara raj x swimmer!reader, highschool au

WARNING(s): fluff, nearly drowning, mentions of gurgling/spitting, reader does cpr as some point, skin tone mention (nothing derogatory)

A/N: never join a swimming team TRUST me. it’s horrid. also this is lowkey really bad im sorry 💔

None of Lara’s friends understood. I mean why would she suddenly show interest in swimming of all things? Lara Raj was a woman of many talents, but swimming was not one.

None of them even recall ever seeing her actually swim— staying on the shore at the beach does not count. How did the infamous Lara Raj find herself nearly drowning?

Well it’s simple really. One day as she was walking to class she saw this girl— not just any though. Her beauty was enough to turn heads, or at least in Lara’s mind, because according to her friend, the girl was a ‘two out of ten’. Although Lara’s sure she’s higher, that's beside the point.

Lara had her friend— Daniela do a little digging, it turned out that said girl was on a swim team! Which is how Lara found herself in this position, her ears ringing as she found her vision darkening.

The one familiar thing she sees is you. Was she dying? Or worse, dead already? Maybe diving head first on the first day was something not everyone could achieve, the one thing she did achieve was learning she couldn’t swim though!

You on the other hand were panicking, hastily you pulled her out of the water, shaking her— even if you knew it wouldn’t really help much if she had inhaled too much water. You kneeled next to her, placing your hands on her chest and pressed down a few times, until she gurgled up water. As she spit it out, you helped her turn her body upwards so that she wouldn’t choke on it more.

“Are you okay?” You frantically asked, even if Lara wanted to answer— she quite literally couldn’t. Lara wanted to shrivel up and die there as you continued to ask her questions. She just knew her friends would never let her live this up, especially the fact she could’ve died yet all she could think of was your hand rubbing her back.

Ever since that day you’ve personally made it your mission to teach her how to swim, because come on, who joins a swimming team without even knowing how to tread!

“Lara.. you’re doing it wrong, again.” you sighed, moving beside her and placing your hand on her back.

“you have to relax, or else you’ll never be able to float.” you said for the third time, holding her up on her back within the water. Undoubtedly Lara was gorgeous, but you could tell she wasn’t listening. It was little things she would forget, her towel, to be on time, it made you truly wonder why she was even on the team.

Lara on the other hand felt like she was on cloud nine, five days a week spending time alone with this gorgeous girl? Not only that, but was her coach. The problem arose when finals came. Lara genuinely thought swimming was for fun, not tournaments and all.

“you do know they wanna cut you right?” You told Lara, walking into the locker rooms.

“oh, uhm why?” She questioned, even if she knew the answer.

“Well, for one you can barely tread properly. Second, you're late a lot, not to mention the clothes instead of the swimsuit. Third, you're always distracted.” Oh. Was she that bad? Lara hadn’t noticed how much you’d taken note of her.

“I only joined because—” of you. The words sat on the tip of her tongue, yet she couldn’t bring herself to say them?

“I already know why, I saw your friend come up in my Facebook recommendations and assumed it was because of this.” You admitted, laughing a little at the last part— while you laughed, Lara's face burned, she was sure if she was a different tone you would’ve known.

The only words she could get out were an ‘I’m sorry’, she was beyond embarrassed, I mean hey, at least she could take something away from this she thought— don’t join a club you have absolutely no interest in!

“We should hang out sometime.” You said, looking back at her before grabbing your swimming bag,

“oh also, I left my number on a piece of paper in your bag.” You stated before leaving. Lara was beyond glad nobody was in the locker room with the way she nearly leaped to her bag, searching for the paper— her jaw dropping when she found it, you weren’t lying.

xxx-xxx-xxxx: hi yn it’s lara

yn (aka loml): hi lara !! lmk when ur free and we can link 😁

[psychemochanight]

"Bruce let Dick become Robin to stop him from killing someone"

Dude, be so fr

Bruce let Dick become Robin to help him get his revenge and to prevent him from getting himself killed.

Dick was a prodigy, yes, but he was never going to be able to kill Zucco, even if he wanted to so badly, he was going to end up dead. Bruce knew Dick wanted revenge, because he knew what that was like, grieving and feeling anger, and he helped him channel that anger, and get revenge, not through murder, but through justice.

If Dick went alone, the only one who would die would be him. Bruce wanted to avoid that.

In many versions, Dick becomes Robin as an outlet for his anger, channeling his pain into a form of help and hope for other people, much like Bruce became Batman because of it.

Robin is a legacy from Dick's parents, a way for him to continue helping people, saving people on their behalf and their loss; but Robin is also a complement to Batman, the light in the darkness, the hope in the fear.

Also, Dick when he was against Zucco, even at the opportunity to kill him, saved him from death. If Dick had gotten to Zucco alone, he wasn't going to kill him, no matter how angry he was.

I still think that if this had happened, and I had the opportunity to hit him, He probably would have made it to the point where Zucco is badly hurt, but Dick would have stopped before killing him, he would look at him, maybe cry out of frustration, but he would leave him in the end, seeing that it's not worth it, that it's not him.

In fact, in the first run, where Dick never confronts Zucco, he admits that it wasn't even revenge he wanted, he wanted justice for his parents.

Dick was never a gremlin-killer child. He was a grieving child, he was angry, sad, and hurt.

He wanted justice, but he was also incredibly mature for his age, enough to know that killing Zucco would only make him the same as him, and not what his parents wanted him to be.

[gods-favorite-autistic]

Ok my current web as of rn

Sandra Lynn Faeth: Divorced from Gilear Faeth, married to Jawbone O’Shaughnessey with at least one adopted child (maybe 2 at some point in the future if they adopt Kristen), has one bio kid with Gorthalax which happened while she was with Gilear and she also got the Kalinavirus from him while with Jawbone, at one point was interested in Sklonda Gukgak (and got with her in an alternate timeline I think), had a one night stand with Garthy O’Brien while basically chaperoning her daughters spring break adventure trip in sophomore year

Gilear Faeth: Divorced from Sandra Lynn Faeth, married to Hallariel Seacaster with one child on the way, was at one point shot to death by the dead Bill Seacaster for sleeping with his wife and then immediately resurrected and accepted as one of the family, also at some point tried to get with Sklonda Gukgak before deciding “she’s too much woman for me to handle” (also his unborn child is nemeses with his stepson but that’s unrelated), carries a generational curse that somehow transferred to his nonbiological daughter

Hallariel Seacaster: Married to Gilear Faeth with a kid on the way, widowed from Bill Seacaster local insane man who she has a child with

Sklonda Gukgak: widowed from Pok Gukgak with whom she has one child, dating Gorthalax the insatiable the 10 ft tall pit fiend who is the mother of one of her sons friends and also the coach of his sons schools bloodrush team, has been pursued by Gilear Faeth, was at some point interested in Sandra Lynn Faeth who she got together with in an alternate timeline

Pok Gukgak: deceased husband of Sklonda Gukgak, headcanoned (no proof I can see as far as canon goes) to be interested in Bill Seacaster local insane man

Bill Seacaster local insane man: deceased husband of Hallariel Seacaster with whom he has a child with, shot his ex wife’s (is that the right term for when you die and your wife continues living?) new husband Gilear Faeth instantly killing him and then immediately welcoming him into the family once he was resurrected, headcanoned to be interested in Pok Gukgak, also has had an undetermined amount of children with other women across the seas mainly in leviathan (exact number unknown but probably a lot) who mostly got eaten by a mindflayer with a vendetta (also. Like probably slept with Garthy at some point right)

Jawbone O’Shaughnessey: Married to Sandra Lynn Faeth with whom he has one adopted child and one stepchild, usually polyamorous but agreed to be monogamous for his wife (who proceeded to have an affair), for sure slept with Garthy O’Brien at some point before meeting Sandra Lynn, otherwise we have no fucking clue what he was up to before that (but like given his general habits and their general habits it’s safe to assumed he at some long slept with the Thistlesprings right)

Digby and Wilma Thistlespring: Included together because we don’t know any names of people they been with but we do know they are absolute sex machines and swingers (see Jawbones note for more info)

Gorthalax the insatiable: has one bio child with Sandra Lynn Faeth through an affair while she was with Gilear Faeth, his job is literally tempting people to show their worst sides which often includes sleeping with them, currently dating Sklonda Gukgak, gets along way too well with the husband of the mother of his child

The Abernant parents: One is dead one is being chased in a nightmare forest by a van with hands that’s all we need to know about them

The Applebees parents: Fully in a cult they’re probably up to some freaky shit on the side but as far as we’re shown perfectly normal monogamous suburban fam (besides the yknow cult stuff)

I think that’s all of the canon and semicanon/headcanon stuff

I love how instead of the Bad Kids getting into a tangled mess of relationships it’s their parents who are all dating each other

[the-psychopathist]

Is Agatha Harkness a sociopath?

I wanted to make this post ever since I finished Agatha All Along, specifically after Agatha was referred to as a “sociopath” in the series. Now, “sociopath” is not an actual diagnosis and most of the time, what people refer to when it comes to sociopathy and psychopathy is actually anti-social personality disorder (ASPD). In this post, I’ll attempt to “diagnose” Agatha with ASPD and see if she fits the criteria for a diagnosis.

Disclaimer: I am not a professional, I’m only “diagnosing” Agatha because she’s a fictional character. Do not attempt to do the same for any real person. This post isn’t meant to stigmatize any real person with that condition, this is simply a character study. None of what I’m writing should be used in a real-life context. 

1) Failure to obey laws and norms by engaging in behavior which results in criminal arrest, or would warrant criminal arrest

Agatha is quite literally a serial killer. She has been luring witches to their early graves for centuries. We don't know exactly how many people she has killed, but her body count is definitely quite large. I don't think she was ever arrested for her crimes but it definitely warrants a criminal arrest. If it wasn't for Wanda trapping her in the Agnes persona at the end of WandaVision, she would have most likely been arrested, especially since she attempted to kill multiple S.W.O.R.D. soldiers. 

2) Deceitfulness, indicated by continuously lying, using aliases, or conning others for personal gain and pleasure.

This one is a given. Her primary means to steal magic was through a con. She deceived and manipulated unsuspecting witches who trusted her with the intent of stealing their magic and killing them. And even before that, she used her own son to lure witches and do the same. She does it primarily for profit, to get more magic, but she does seem to genuinely enjoy deceiving others and gaining pleasure out of it.

In both WV and AAA she was lying, deceiving and manipulating the rest of the cast from the very beginning for her own benefit. She infiltrated Wanda’s hex and posed as her nosy neighbour “Agnes”, graining Wanda's trust with the intent of stealing her magic from the start. She did it primarily for profit but there was also some enjoyment for her when she revealed the truth to Wanda, so much so that she created her own intro song. She was enjoying putting up a show almost as much as getting Wanda's magic.

This pattern of behaviors is seen throughout AAA too, especially upon rewatch. On your first watch, you might not notice but after rewatching a second time fully knowing the end, you can notice how much Agatha has been lying the entire time. Not only did she lie about the road and always intended to murder the cover in her basement, but when the hex road appeared she kept the lie that she went to the road before going. One could say that she had to keep the lie going because she never intended for the road to appear, so those weren’t lies she intended to tell, but at the same time, we can see how easily she can lie and deceive others. She knew all along that Billy created the road and that said road was deadly, yet made no attempt at stopping him. She knew people would die but she kept the lie going because she hoped that she could get back her powers at the end. So she lied, deceived and manipulated the group the entire time for her own gain.

3) Exhibiting impulsivity or failing to plan ahead.

Agatha is someone who likes to be in control, and does give off the illusion of being in control. But the truth is, she isn’t as much in control as she thinks she is, and is quite impulsive. Lots of her shortcomings are a direct consequence of an impulsive decision (fuck around and find out). Being impulsive doesn’t mean she can’t make elaborate schemes, because she sure does. But a lot of those are made impulsively. She sensed Wanda’s magic and decided to join her hex without knowing exactly how Wanda’s magic worked. She even started messing with her without knowing how Wanda’s magic would respond. Then in AAA we see more of her impulsive nature. She doesn’t think through whenever she makes a decision and ends up needing to improvise in order to compensate for her reckless decisions. She told Lilia about how her ability to steal magic worked, she picked a bound witch to be part of her coven, as well as a non-magical woman. The only one in the group that seemed to have the ability to blast was Alice. Not the greatest group if she needed to steal as much magic as possible. On the road, she made a lot of impulsive decisions that were quite reckless, like attempting to break the window and throwing her wine glass during the first trial, suggesting to summon another green witch, pretending to be possessed by Sharon, or messing with the tarot cards. There’s also the way she provoked Billy right after he nearly killed her. Those were all decisions she took without thinking about the consequences, out of impulsivity. But she’s not only impulsive when it comes to being reckless with others’ safety. She was also shown to be impulsive when it comes to helping some of her coven members. When Rio first emerged from Sharon’s grave, Agatha’s first instinct was to get in front of the coven as if she wanted to protect them. When Billy got thrown into the window, Agatha rushed to go check on him, or when Lilia was about to get impaled she jumped to push her out of the sword’s trajectory. 

4) Irritability and aggressiveness, indicated by repeatedly getting into fights or physically assaulting others.

Once again, this one is a given. Agatha is easily irritated and very aggressive, she’s quick to anger, losing her patience and snapping at people. She had no issue hurting Wanda when she had her captive in her basement, slamming her against the wall when she got irritated with her. I’d argue that the mass murdering she did over centuries also count as frequent assaults. She’s also quick to engage in physical fights with Rio (although those are mutual on both sides), and there was a moment at the end of episode 3 where Agatha randomly kicked Jen when she was already down after they all went through the water slide. 

5) Reckless behaviors that disregard the safety of others.

Agatha did not care how her actions affected the resident of Westview when she was purposefully messing around with the hex. She did not care either on the road. She knew from the beginning that it was a hex and even after seeing they could actually die in the trials, she made no attempt to try telling the others the road was fake. She could have tried to let Billy know he made the road but she didn’t. Because she didn’t care if some of them might die. She had no concern for their safety. She endangered the coven in the first trial by trying to break the window and by refusing to drink the wine. She did so too in the third trial by pretending to be possessed, making the group lose precious time. Same with the fourth trial by messing with the tarot cards and not stopping even when the swords were dangerous dropping on both her and Billy. 

6) A pattern of irresponsibility

This is probably the only criteria I’m not sure would apply. There are instances of Agatha being irresponsible, but I don’t think we have seen enough of her personal life to establish a pattern. So until further notice, I’ll consider this criteria doesn’t particularly fit. 

7) Lack of remorse after hurting or mistreating another person.

Agatha does not seem to have any remorse for all the people she murdered. She may have some remorse regarding her original coven, including her mother, but that was a much younger Agatha. The Agatha we know now does not seem to feel bad for the people she had killed for centuries. It’s even something she will be really flippant about whenever she talks about how many people she has killed.

She didn’t feel remorse when Sharon died either. Agatha might not have directly killed her, she is still responsible for her death by recruiting her into the coven. And it’s not like Agatha didn’t intend from the start to put Sharon in harm’s way. If her initial intention was to kill the coven, it’s very likely she would have killed Sharon too, or Sharon would have been killed by the Salem Seven. Billy may be indirectly responsible for Sharon’s death because he created the road, he was not aware of that nor did he intend for this to happen. Agatha on the other hand always intended for Sharon to die and did not feel bad when she actually did die. She acted extremely callous after Sharon’s death and never bothered to learn her name, even forgetting who she was later on.

And it’s not just about murder. She didn’t feel bad when she got Alice fired, nor did she feel bad when she learned she was the person who got Jen bound for a hundred years. She didn’t feel bad either about attempting to kill the coven from the beginning and had no qualms about using them to get to the end of the road even if it meant sacrificing them.

The coven’s members aren’t the only people who suffer because of Agatha’s actions. If we go back to WandaVision, Agatha orchestrated Sparky’s death. And she seemed pretty proud about causing a dog to die. It may have been revealed in AAA that Ralph poisoned the dog, but it was under Agatha’s order. He was under her magical control, so the blame is entirely on her. She did not feel bad at all for killing a dog. Speaking of Ralph, as much as his character is played for laughs, what she did to him was also pretty atrocious. She took control of his life, stole his house, and forced him to commit awful acts, causing psychological damage to him to the point he is completely paranoid now. It’s unlikely Agatha knows how Ralph ended up after what she did to him, I highly doubt she’d feel an ounce of remorse for that. 

Now, lack of remorse does not mean lack of regrets. Agatha does not feel bad for hurting others and how her actions affected them, but she does have regrets. She does feel bad if her actions negatively affect her, like personal loss or missed opportunity. She did seem to feel regret about killing Alice, but I don’t think she felt remorse. She did not feel bad for Alice, she felt bad because of the consequences she had to face after. She did not intend to kill Alice at that time, and now she has lost any potential trust she could gain from the coven. Not only that, we know Agatha became a ghost because she couldn’t face Nicky in the afterlife, so the regret might also be that she thought her son had seen her kill Alice. I don’t think she felt remorse for what she did to Jen either. When Jen did the unbinding ritual, getting told over and over that she “holds nothing” worked on Agatha possibly because deep down, Agatha knew it was true. She no longer has her son, she has no magic, and she has driven away Rio. She did hold nothing anymore. 

Having ASPD does not mean Agatha is incapable of love, or caring about others. She undoubtedly loved and cared about her son. So much so that she developed a soft spot for Billy because he reminded her of Nicky. She loved Rio too. Same for her pet rabbit. Unlike popular belief, lack of empathy is not a criteria for ASPD. It does usually result in low empathy, and that can vary from person to person. Agatha probably has little to no empathy for most people except the rare people she does manage to bond with. You can see it as a selective empathy for those she did love and care about, which included Nicky, Rio, Señor Scratchy and later possibly Billy.

If Agatha does have ASPD, how did it start? Even if sometimes genetics can play a role in developing that personality disorder, you aren’t born with it. Most of the time, it’s caused by the environment, mostly trauma experienced as a child. We know Agatha’s mother hated her. She thought she was born evil. She, with her coven, attempted to have her executed when Agatha was only 18. I do believe the accusations made at her were mostly true. She probably did steal knowledge and practiced dark magic. But Agatha did beg her coven to teach her, so I think it’s very likely that since her mother thought she was born evil, she didn’t allow Agatha to properly learn magic. If Agatha wasn’t taught magic and had this power she couldn’t control (siphoning), it’s not surprising that she would have to steal knowledge in order to learn. Agatha learned from a young age to break the rules in order to get what she wants or needs. And without proper guidance, it’s reasonable to think she might have practiced dark magic.

So yes, even if the accusations were true, her coven and mother are not blameless. Agatha is the way she is because of how she was raised, how she was treated as a child and growing up, and what she had to do in order to learn magic. She never had a healthy support system growing up, there was no possibility for therapy at that time, she was a witch living in the worst era for her kind, and she couldn’t even rely on her fellow witches to protect herself. After accidentally killing her original coven (including her own mother), which was definitely a traumatic event for her regardless if it was self-defence, she kept doing what she did so far to survive; steal, lie, deceive, kill. All the antisocial traits she exhibits as an adult are learned behaviours. Of course, it does not justify her crimes and horrific actions she later committed, but it does explain why she is that way. She wasn’t born evil, she became evil. She’s the product of her environment, experiences, circumstances and era.

[nerdishpursuits]

This show really said Nihil sine Marta. There's no front where she doesn't have to do battle and defend. The sheer amount of pressure she's under right now is overwhelming. If Marta gets out of this without any health issues, I'd be surprised. At least there's a silver lining. For while most of the world is out to destroy her, she finds solace, passion and love in Fina's arms. They are each other's strength and watching them reaffirm their devotion and commitment to each other, time and again, is both heartwarming and inspiring.

I don't think I've ever seen such a well-developed sapphic relationship on TV. It feels like a breath of fresh air and it's a joy to watch it unfold and grow. They’ve planted their flag and defend it, standing tall in the face of so much adversity. How far they’ve come. Does it mean they are unafraid now? Of course not. But they are embracing their truth and choosing each other every day in spite of that fear. Because the love they have for each other is worth fighting for, is worth facing the entire world for.

Speaking of an unfolding narrative. They are truly putting them through the ringer. And it's most likely only the tip of the iceberg. The constant stress they are under is debilitating. Inimicus ante Portas: hurling their accusations, making their demands, snarling in condescension. There's blood in the water and Marta's enemies would only declare themselves sated if they were to witness her downfall, professionally and personally. At this point in the narrative, it's a miracle she's still standing. But like she confessed to Fina: as long as they have each other? Marta will not fall. Therefore, I find myself dreading the kind of blow that would bring Marta to her knees. The kind of blow that would pull Fina asunder too. Would it make for delicious angst? Certainly. Would it hurt? Most definitely.

Nevertheless, while all those fires rage and consume? Marta de la Reina continues on her own quest, one that bestows upon her the title of Great, True Romantic. Endangered too. For hopelessly romantic she is. Judging by the way Mafin is written? I'm inclined to think it's mostly penned by someone who is either profoundly in love, or someone who has loved beyond measure. I also suspect it's most likely a woman / women. For who else bleeds on the page this way? Don't you see, we only have each other. You are everything to me. My strength, everything. I am safe as long as you are safe. There is no turning back, I cannot conceive of my life without you. By your side, I feel that I can face the entire world. The only thing that could undo me is losing you ... I don't want you to suffer and endure humiliation the way that I have. My sole desire is for your safety ... You will not lose me ... I’ve spent half my life adrift, bound to the inertia of others, confined to the shadows, until I found her and she became my light. You cannot ask me to give her up, because you’d be asking me to die while my heart still beats.

It will be an arduous uphill battle but I think Marta's words are also prophetic in nature. There is no turning back for them. The road ahead is together, as one, no matter the sorrow, no matter the cost. Regardless of how much they'll have to wander? Through hope and despair and back again? As long as they have each other? They are not lost.

Speaking of their wanderings through the land of plot. Chairwoman Marta. Pelayo's confession that Marta is his lover, while briefly throwing Don Pedro off the scent, most likely feeds into Carpena’s misogyny. To me he comes across like the kind of man who, deep down, believes women don’t belong in business. The kind of man who thinks women only succeed when they play the seduction card. Which is infuriating for someone of Marta's caliber, who has worked her fingers to the bone to be worthy of her current position. Her intellect, determination and hard work won her the mantle of leadership. Maybe the show wasn't even trying to make this point but Carpena's immediate, sleazy grin upon hearing Pelayo's confession? It irked me because, of course, the only possible way Marta could have gained Pelayo's interest and favor? Her womanly wiles. Points for Pelayo, though. Seems like he's trying to be a good friend and protect Marta as much as he can. And on to rant some more (I'm afraid this post is getting out of hand - for the life of me, I can't seem to keep it short *sigh*)

I’m not one to cuss (much, eh @midniteowlet 😏?) but today it feels warranted. All the idiots coming out of the woodwork with pitch-forks and battle-rams and having lost their intellect, meagre as it is, along the way.

The Merino Bros & their mommy dearest, Pedro and, quite possibly, Tasio? A tomar por cu**.

Marta's face listening to lunacy after lunacy is an absolute poem.

Currently? Marta is the only one making informed decisions that benefit them all. Alongside Damián? She’s the only one who knows how to run the business so they all stand to gain and the workers have job security (I suppose Jesús has business acumen too but his Machiavellian ways leave a lot to be desired)

Which makes it pretty obvious they were going to try and take Marta down. That all these spineless, envious men cannot stand seeing a woman in power. A woman who outsmarts them at every turn and who actually thinks things through.

On the bright side? Should Marta lose the executive chair? I want to see how mama’s boy Joaquin goes running to Marta &. co. later, begging for help, because he’s sinking the business with his arsinine attitude and decisions. I want the Merino to fail so spectacularly they choke on it.

The business with the bathhouse will go up in flames because Joaquin and Luis lack intuition for business. What drives them is an underlying desire for vengeance and a need to satisfy their ego by calling the shots. Competency is not part of their vocabulary. They’re utterly insufferable, terribly immature and are woefully unprepared for what it means to be in charge. Their incompetency, if left unchecked, will prove disastrous for the company.

And then we have Digna. On the one hand? She lived up to her name and acted with dignity, keeping the promise she made Marta and Fina: that she would protect their secret and would never expose them. The fact that she made it clear to Pedro she wouldn't use such harmful rumors to hurt her niece, or the young woman she considers a daughter? It speaks of her capacity to empathize and understand. On the other hand? Her lack of business expertise shows in how she approaches the bathhouse project. She tries to gaslight Marta with talk of family and respect, while showing Marta absolutely no deference or familial support. Digna possesses zero knowledge about running a company. But she has the gall to lecture Marta about it, all because her crybaby sons demand instant gratification and loathe the fact that Marta is in power. The Merino are a sorry bunch and while I feel truly sorry for Gervasio’s demise? If he was as good a business man as his sons? I see why Damián felt he needed to run the company himself (I don’t agree with his methods, of course, but one cannot deny that the Merino family are an executive liability). It also irks me that Digna has the nerve to condescendingly call Marta daughter, while going behind her back and giving Tasio the proverbial knife, urging him to betray his sister. And to think Marta, generously and kindly, wanted to give Tasio a chance. Felt indebted to him, even, and wanted to start anew, as siblings. No matter how they twist and turn his character, he ends up falling short somehow. Or doesn't he?

And since Tasio dearest is next on the block? Much like the Merino brothers? A deplorably mediocre man, crying to Marta about how dependent he is on his wife. For how dare Marta send Carmen on a business trip, which is part of her responsibilities as store overseer, given he cannot function without her help?

Poor Tasio. Who’s going to do the dishes now, who’s going to iron his shirts and cook his meals? Woe be him. I honestly can’t with his level of incompetence and stupidity. To have the gall to launch veiled threats at Marta concerning her relationship with Fina (trying to take credit for piecing it all together while knowing full well it’s Carmen who dropped the ball, spectacularly might I add) and insinuating Marta is playing favorites? The level of idiocy this man possesses is truly astounding. As is the level of self-projection Tasio is doing here. Quite noteworthy.

If he only stopped to think for a minute, he’d realize:

1. Fina is Carmen’s right hand at the store. As such, she has the most experience to help out in this situation.

2. Marta emphasized it’s a temporary solution. Tasio’s entire reasoning here is a case of that aforementioned self-projection: he knows full well he’d show favoritism if he were in charge, which is something he confessed to Carmen he’d do. So Tasio filters Marta’s decision through his own, faulty thought-sieve. Heavens help him. Not to mention he's also easy to manipulate. That moral high-horse the Merino are riding? I can't wait to seem them all trampled into the dirt.

3. Mighty hypocritical of Tasio to claim Fina is being ascended (again, temporarily) due to special treatment, when his own promotion is a case of nepotism (unlike his wife, who Marta ascended based on her competence and hard work - wife, who Tasio never threw his support behind, too jealous of her new position). Same story with the shares Tasio received from Marta. His level of entitlement here? It’s that outlandish and that outrageous.

That being rambled? Because Tasio is often such a narrow-minded, pathetic little man? He might cast the deciding vote to remove Marta as CEO. For while Tasio often wants to best himself? He also remains profoundly petty, terribly misinformed and someone who shouldn't be sitting on board meetings. Were it not for Marta’s kindness and goodwill? He’d only have his father’s name and gratitude, and little else.

And what’s going to be Marta’s thank you for it all? Quite possibly a knife to the back. Should that occur, which it might, I do wonder how Tasio thinks he will fit within the de la Reina family in the aftermath? After all, his display of ''business shrewdness'' would prove ruinous. Even Jesús votes for Marta (because in spite of their differences he recognizes she is smart, would never vote against his family and sees the Merino brothers for the fools they truly are) And that’s saying something. So if Tasio really wants to become a pariah in the eyes of his new family? By all means. Vote with their incompetent adversaries. Ultimately, Damián will be more lenient in forgiving him, I suspect. But Tasio would be proving himself undeserving, uninformed, unreasonable and willfully ignorant. Of course, previews are often deliberately misleading and who knows, another Brutus might be lurking in the shadows. Andres maybe? He's so utterly useless, incompetent and easy to manipulate it's pathetic. If Jesús remains the only brother who amounts to anything? Oh, the laughter.

Sure, things might not go down that way at all. Marta might not lose the executive chair, Tasio might not vote against her while Andres could and Don Pedro could resort to blackmail to remove her from the board. As always, we shall see when the episode airs. But goddamn, these PEEople are beyond exhausting. Marta needs that vacation with Fina and she needs it yesterday.

P.s the last gif on the right? that's also me upon realizing how goddamn verbose this post is. Off to word-jail with me!!!

[stars-remain2]

Last Line Tag

I was tagged by @optimisticflicker, thank you and welcome to the MoTA Fandom. We are so glad to have you. 🥰

Here’s a new snippet from my WIP “I Won’t Go Where You Can’t Follow” Chapter 3. I’m just getting back in the groove on this one. Such a sucker for Gale whump.

Bucky wakes up to someone gently shaking his shoulder. He opens his eyes to see John Brady standing over him. Bucky can tell that Brady is worried by the furrow currently taking up residence between his eyebrows. In any other circumstance Bucky might find it endearing but today it just makes him worry too.

Buck’s co-pilot, Benny DeMarco, hovers just over Brady’s left shoulder, looking equally as concerned. The realities of the day that stretches before them hits him all at once. Today they continue to march. He’s reminded of the weight in his arms and he looks down to see Buck’s face.

He can’t hide a grimace. It looks so much worse in the daylight. Buck looks so much worse in the daylight.

Buck’s beautiful face is mottled with bruises. His plush lips are split and swollen, with rivulets of blood dried and crusted over at both corners of his mouth. Both eye sockets are black and blue. And this is just the damage that is visible. Bucky can’t help the fists that his hands create in response to the visage before him.

He takes a deep breath in through his nose and releases it through his mouth. His anger won’t help Buck. He’s got to keep his head about him today because his only job is to put one foot in front of the other and keep Buck on his feet.

He looks up at Benny and Brady and says, “let me wake him up and then I’m going to need your help getting him on his feet.”

They nod grimly. They know the damage Gale has to his ribs and they can imagine the pain that pulling their Major to his feet is about to cause. But it has to be done.

Bucky starts talking to Gale softly. He’s not going to have a lot of time to be gentle with him today so he’s going to savor this last tender moment. “Buck. Hey Buck, I need you to wake up.”

Gale tries to open his eyes and can’t help the moan that escapes his swollen lips. “Aahhhhhhh, Jo’n.”

He then sees he’s got an audience and quickly clamps down on his pain. His men shouldn’t have to see him this way. He closes his eyes again so he can regroup.

Benny and Brady kneel down in front of him. Benny is the first to break the silence. “Hey Major, let’s get you back on those feet. Can we help you get up? So Major Egan can get up too?”

Gale blushes slightly at the acknowledgment he’s been lying in John’s arms. He just nods at them, afraid of what sound he’ll make if he speaks again.

Benny takes one hand and Brady takes his other. They also slide their other hands under his arm pits to further brace him. He bends his knees to try and help. They pull and he feels the world shift out from underneath him. He hears static in his ears and spots begin to creep into the sides of his vision.

He’s upright but suddenly he’s vomiting and he feels two ribs grind up against one another.

Time ceases to have meaning.

He thinks he hears John asking someone to get some water. Then there’s a cup up against his mouth.

“Buck, swish that around and spit it out, okay? Then you can have a little drink. But just a little.”

He feels the cold sweat at his hairline, tricking down his forehead. A hand brushes his hair back, trying to soothe. He’s hunched over like an old man. The pain is unbearable. Is this what it feels like just before you die?

“John?”

“I’m here Buck.”

He looks up and can finally see clearly again, the spots have dissipated from his vision. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

John bites his lip. He’s never heard Gale speak like this before. He never thought he’d hear Major Gale Cleven admit defeat. He won’t allow it.

“Sure you can, Major. You’ve got all of us guys to help you. We won’t let you fall.”

Gale just looks at him, as his eyes go hazy. “Sure Johnny.”

No pressure tagging @joeyalohadream @happy-days19 @middlingmay @onyxsboxes @hogans-heroes @trekkiehood @rambleonwaywardson @heretoobsessstuff @feyd-meowtha @avonne-writes @pinenutpbj @rangerelizabeth @swifty-fox @nicijones @oopsiedaisiesbaby @the-ghost-of-jason-todd @steviewicks45

[jeonscatalyst]

I still can't get over how sick Jimin was and how he powered through it, during AYS. They were in NY/CT for days, but we only saw 2 hours of their trip. They could have cut and let Jimin go to the doctor to get proper medicine, treatment and hydrated and then could resume filming and still have lots of footage to use, but he just powered through it. Going on walks and out on the boat,, etc, even as sick and dehydrated as he was, even running a fever and knowing he gets major motion sickness on top of it. He wanted to just soak up as much time with Jk as possible, even as sick as he was and keep filming to give Army something to watch while he was away. And his jealous hating fans can't even vote for his show cause Jk was there. Like? I know Jimin has side eyed these people and shaken his head in disappointment. How can you not be ashamed knowing you disappoint the man you claim to love, cause you can't respect his choices? I would bury my head in the sand knowing he is giving the biggest Boombastic side eye to me & die from embarrassment if I were them.

Hi anon,

There are so many things I admire about Jimin, and one of them is his endurance and resilience. Many others in his position would have chosen to cut things short, but Jimin didn’t. He didn’t even let his illness dampen the mood of the trip. And before some bitter person claims he was more interested in “feeding shippers” than taking care of his health…don’t.

Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said Jimin’s charm is his thoughtfulness and consideration. Jimin is thoughtful and selfless to a fault. I’m sure he did everything in his power to push through because he understood the importance of other people’s time. He likely didn’t want to ruin the experience for Jungkook, who clearly needed that time away from his demanding schedule to relax, do things he loved, and enjoy good food. That’s who Jimin is…someone who always puts others before himself, as Namjoon has said. So, it wasn’t surprising to see him power through, no matter how bad he felt.

I can’t even imagine myself in his position. At the slightest inconvenience, my whole demeanor would change. Even if I stayed to continue the trip, I’d probably make it far less enjoyable for everyone. But Jimin didn’t. He powered through with grace and made sure it was still a good experience for everyone involved. He truly is amazing.

As for solos, I’ve said this before…solos don’t actually love the people they claim are their faves. They certainly don’t respect them or their choices. Loving and respecting someone means accepting them and their decisions, even if you don’t fully understand or agree with them. Solos are selfish and self-centered, using the members to boost their own egos. They don’t love the members for who they are; they love what the members are and what they represent.This is why solos lose their minds when their faves make choices that don’t align with their personal expectations. How do you claim to love Jimin or Jungkook while disrespecting something they both love and clearly enjoyed? How can you claim to care for someone, yet tear down the choices that bring them happiness and fulfillment just because they don’t align with what you wanted for them?

Solos often operate under this misguided sense of “protection,” thinking they have the right to dictate what their faves should or shouldn’t do. Honestly, I can’t take people like that seriously.

[loudtrashcan]

CW: Discussions of self harm and suicide

If I were a fanfic writer...

I would write about how Bruce spent the first like 7 years as Batman passively suicidal. Let's be honest, Batman holds a lot of hurt feelings and darkness at the beginning. While his story is one of Hope, he doesn't get there until he takes in hope reincarnate himself.

Just imagine Dick has been living with Bruce for 2 years and has settled into the Robin mantle. And while Bruce is more motivated to model healthy living practices to his ward, he sometimes dips into that dark place. And as man of contingencies, he has an in case I die protocol laid out since his first year as the Bat. Bruce, however, hadn't updated it since getting Dick. Like he isn't actively trying to kill himself. Plus Bruce has been extra careful about safety precaution. Robin is watching after all.

Maybe an incident happens. Someone he couldn't save. It was devasting. Bruce had to comfort Dick for days after because it haunted him and subsequently benched him. And Bruce obsesses. He has let this [insert crime ring or something] terrorize his city for too long. Crime Alley is being devasted and GCPD is working too slow. So Batman obsesses, systematically taking out goons and getting closer and closer to the heart of the operation. Gordon says its risky and Alfred says he's flying to close to the sun. But the darkness is telling Batman to take [crime organization] down for good. He slowly distances himself from Dick, throwing himself into the case.

Finally, he's done it. Batman has taken down [crime organization]'s line of defense so thoroughly he can eradicate everything. Normally, he'd ask for backup for a take down but Gordon was clearly not on board. It's fine, Batman can do it himself. The day of, he finishes all his business with WE, the Justice League, and Batman stuff- just in case... of course. He wasn't trying to kill himself. He is so focused on his mission, he barely notices how agitated Dick is. The boy can sense something off but Bruce is a brick wall. Bruce eat dinner with Dick and Alfred before he bids the good night and goes down to the Cave. Dick is benches tonight because he haa a test in the morning. Bruce check through everything twice before he heads out.

Long story short, he technically succeeds in knocking out the boss and a house full of goons. He gathers their files and contacts onto a drive for Gordon. Batman only suffered from a severe concussion, a bullet wound to the shoulder, a deep gash in the abdomen, some bruised ribs, a sprained ankle, and some other minor wounds. But he didn't die...yet.

Batman instinctually calls the Batmobile as he stumbles into an alleyway and braces himself against the wall.

As the adrenaline fades, the pain hits his body in waves. When did he lay down? He feels warm seeping from his body as spots dance into his eye. He can't take a deep breathe...Bruce feels like he's dying... He is dying, he realizes. He's bleeding out. But it's ok, his business is handled, Bruce always knew the risk.

He hears a small gasp as a small shadow enters his field of vision. It's talking to him, but Bruce can only hear the waves of pain crashing into him. Who knew bleeding out stung so much. His head pounds as an engine roars closer and closer. Suddenly, he feel tiny hand pressing into the bullet wound. White hot pain radiates from his stomach. He thinks he cries out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry but we need help!" A small voice says.

If Bruce was more aware, he'd hear how thick with tears the voice was. The shadow continues wrapping his shoulder and his vision goes dark for a second. At least he thinks it does.

He's startled awake when the small voice cries out. It sounds like a name. The voice is desparate and loud. Bruce's head pounds.

Then there's another person. His eyesight was blurry, all he could see were smudges of blue and red. It was speaking to him.

All Bruce could do was groan.

"We need to go, there's no time!" The shadow wasn't speaking to Bruce.

He feel strong arms lift him up and he chokes. His body is burning. He tries to escape the hold. As he pulls against his stomach wound, he passes out.

And then something about him waking up in the Watchtower infimary to a distressed Dick who thought he lost another parent or something. Maybe a sequence that represents thin line of life and death while he's passes out. And his only life line is a songbird and then he finally wakes up. Cue friends yell at him for being irresponsible. A little "you mean so much to me" perhaps a "were you trying to die?" Dick says something tragically profound, Bruce realizes how much the kid meana to him. Comfort and fluff stuff.

Idk, but if I was a fanfiction writer this would be a great hurt/comfort fic.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

Anyone else ever think about the fact that in this scene…

…Will is basically telling a real woman to fuck off after she (gently and reasonably) invites him to reconsider the wisdom of his continuing affection for Hannibal?

And then when she’s gone, he goes back to hanging out with his imaginary projection of Abigail Hobbs.

And his projection of Abigail very conveniently understands and endorses Will’s continued attraction to Hannibal.

Which is a little bit weird, given that the real Abigail Hobbs was terrorized, held captive, and murdered by Hannibal.

“She just gets me.” BITCH THAT’S BECAUSE YOU MADE HER UP.

Honestly, I think it’s one of Will’s ugliest moments as a character.

It’s also extremely illustrative of how much Will is willing to lie to himself, even when those lies are unconscionably self-serving, and how easily he deprioritizes other people when he really, really wants something for himself.

On the surface, it’s a weird failing for a character so defined by his empathy.

[ How does Will’s empathy just turn off? ]

But it makes sense to me when I think of Will’s relationship to empathy as being analogous to my own relationship to risk-avoidance.

I have OCD. I exist in a constant state of low-level terror that if I am not careful enough, I will die prematurely, and it will be My Fault.

But sometimes, I do things like stand on a rickety cat tree in front of a second floor picture window to put up Christmas lights. Which, objectively, is a risk most people probably wouldn’t take.

And I think it’s just that I’m so used to ignoring false-alarms of the “THIS WILL SURELY LEAD TO YOUR DEATH!” variety that I just sometimes, subconsciously, decide ‘Fuck it’, and do whatever the fuck will get me to my goal the fastest. Because I am just so tired and frustrated and overwhelmed.

If we see Will’s empathy as a burdensome and intrusive thing - a distracting and often distressing mental process which he usually can’t turn off, and which makes his life much more painful - it kind of makes sense that under the right amount of stress (e.g. the kind he gets from thinking about Hannibal Lecter), he would be liable to just flip into emergency-override ‘Fuck it’ mode.

[ Abigail, Molly, and Will’s resentment of the perceived expectation of masculinity ]

I also think it’s really interesting to compare the lie he tells himself about Abigail (“the girl Hannibal literally murdered would want him and I to be happy together”) to Will’s other big lie (“She knows enough”).

Both Abigail and Molly are women who Will feels a sense of duty to, and who make him feel like he has to perform a stereotypically cis-het neurotypical masculine role - Abigail, as a father, and Molly, as a husband and step-father.

I think it’s possible to read Will as resenting both the duty, and the (perceived) pressure to perform cis-het neurotypical masculinity. And if we read him this way, I think it’s possible to extrapolate that his resentment of the “burdens” associated to these women for Will also made it easier for him to subconsciously justify lying about / to them.