#but I'm seeing so much hurt on my dash

[flying-cat]

ending off the night at t34!!!

[found--family]

am i the only one who sensed some jilted lover vibes from jensen? 

[martianbugsbunny]

Idk if I'm strong enough for either canon Kalluzeb or Kalluzeb getting destroyed

[mashmouths]

is it an adhd thing to need to reinvent the concept of a study space so you have any chance of actually studying or just a facet of being alive that no one warned me about

[fishing-for-blood]

I have not had a functional computer in years, nor have I ever cared for or found vampires particularly compelling for me but. But.

I am genuinely considering dropping a dumb amount of money for a new laptop just so I can play Baldur's Gate 3 for that little shit vampire. His entire character Arc is so. It's just so. It's giving me brain worms. augggh.

[tymptir]

WHAT KIND OF VILLAIN ARE YOU?

Then Let Me Be Evil. - Garlan Tyrell

You never wanted to hurt anyone, but the world never gave you a choice. You did the best you could with what you had, but every innocent mistake you made was held against you when it counted, every crossroads led you down the wrong path no matter which way you went. No matter what you did, the odds were stacked against you. It wasn't fair, and you are sick and tired of being told what a monster you are for things out of your control. Well, fine. They want a monster? YOU'LL GIVE THEM A MONSTER!

tagged by: @goldenngore ♡

tagging: you if you enjoy pain . . .

[a-skeleton-of-something-m0re]

And I said I wouldn't get sucked in, ah

And I said I wouldn't cry about it, ah

This is the last time This is the last time

I won't be vacant anymore I won't be waitin' anymore I won't be vacant anymore I won't be waitin' anymore I won't be vacant anymore I won't be waitin' anymore I won't be vacant anymore I won't be waitin' anymore

It takes a lot of pain to pick me up It takes a lot of rain in my cup It takes a lot of pain

Baby you gave me bad ideas Baby you left me sad and high…

[oarfishing]

Alright, I'm sick of seeing TERFisms on my dash, so here's a handy list of TERF dogwhistles and talking points to think about before you reblog a post.

I've seen a few of these before, but it doesn't hurt to make more. Especially when we're seeing a lot of radfem rhetoric popping up in LGBT spaces from people who might not know better.

SCREENNAMES: these are terms that commonly appear in radfem usernames across the web

rad or radical

fem or femme

vulva, clit, uterus, womb, ovary, vagina, etc.

febfem

anything along the lines of "angry woman"

xx or chromosomes

wombyn, wimmin, womyn, etc.

LGB

feminist

BIOS: things that show up in radfem bios

♀ or ⚢

febfem

female separatist

female, human female, adult human female

xx

something along the lines of "the scary feminist you were warned about"; being an angry woman, being sick of being silenced, being an evil woman, being an angry lesbian

detrans (NOTE: detrans people are absolutely not always transphobic)

dysphoric female

males/men do not interact

LGB✂️

misandrist

feminist (NOTE: again, very few feminists are actually terfs, but this is commonly in terf bios alongside some of these other terms)

TERMS: terms that radfems use in their circles

TIM - trans-identified male, a way of saying transfems, trans women, and other trans people

TIF - trans-identified female, same as above but the other way around, less commonly seen

DSD - disorder of sexual development, a way to avoid saying intersex and to categorize intersex people as "still male or female" (you might see "males with DSD" or "females with DSD" for example)

females or males instead of women and men

alternatively, women and males to dehumanize men

"peaking" or "peaked" - referring to becoming radicalized as a radfem or TERF

womyn, wombyn, wimmin, wo**n, and any other spelling that takes "man" out of the term woman

mentally ill men/women

sex-based oppression

gender critical

"TIRF" - trans-inclusive radical feminist (don't be fooled by the name, they're very much not)

TRA - trans rights activist, derogatory

sex-based rights

female separatism/"women's land"

WBW - womyn-born womyn

autistic girls/children

troon - (ridiculous) slur for trans people

RHETORIC: general ideological themes in radfem rhetoric

men are inherently more violent than women

women don't or rarely rape men

(woman on woman rape is ignored by almost all radfems)

being nonbinary is a way to "stop being" your assigned sex while still acting as your birth sex

lesbians are not attracted to men/penises and can never have sex with men/penises (otherwise, you're bisexual)

men can and will never be lesbians

there is no such thing as a bi lesbian, only lesbians and bisexuals. labels are rigid and sex-based

all of the world's suffering is driven by men

women would be better off separate

an all-female society is utopia

sex is binary, and intersex people are "glitches" or "still male or female but DisorderedTM"

men should expect to be feared by women

female/female relationships are safer and more pure than straight or gay male relationships

men and women are more different than similar

intersex people should not be allowed in sports

intersex people and trans men are never in men's sports

terrible world events wouldn't have happened if women were in charge

men are stupid and aggressive

being a man is not a positive thing

men's problems are lesser than women's

penises are disgusting and vaginas and vulvas are beautiful

trans women are performing at being girls

trans men see themselves as above lesbians

attraction is sex-based

porn is rape

porn is inherently violent

watching porn makes you predisposed to inflicting abuse

BDSM is inherently violent and misogynistic

transitioning children (whether socially or medically) are being abused

"bitch" and "cunt" are slurs against women

only gay men can say faggot and only lesbian women can say dyke

When you see a few or more of these together, RUN! It's a terf.

[yanderefarm]

I want to spread a rumor about Emil cheating, make sure nobody knows it was me, then act all mad at him and punish him for it

Also ygs better square up Cherros anon and Jerry anon

-🐕‍🦺

ive been craving to hurt emil. rofan villain reader my beloved, a cute husband to bully and all his money 🥰

cw;; abuse, cheating, non-con (implied), gaslighting, angst

the nobles always talk, talk, talk. it's not odd for them to spread meaningless gossip. it's odd when unsubstantiated gossip makes it into the most popular newspaper in the capital and becomes the headline on everyone's lips. that took your whole allowance at the information guild but it was worth it to see your husband's face now.

the pictures were the best touch, you really should thank the guild master later. undeniable evidence of emil being intimate with one of his maids was sitting in front of him on the desk. his advisor was cautiously scolding him for ruining his reputation that he had just started to build up. the image of loving husband dashed in an instant. he started to raise his voice his hand pounding on the table in anger. that was your cue.

you threw the door of the office open with force.

"emil! are you going to explain yourself? why are all my maids talking about you ch-"

your eyes caught the images, you hadn't actually seen them yet. god they were good, they made you actually feel a bit sick to see. perfect.

".... what is that?"

you watch his face drop as all his anger melts into panic. poor bastard tries to cover up the images.

"this doesn't concern you."

"... you're fucking one of your maids?"

the accusation burns his heart and he feels like he's going to be sick. he tries to cover the images more.

"this doesn't-" thwack!

you slap him across the face as hard as you can, your wedding ring leaving an imprint on his cheek.

"everyone get out. i need to speak to my husband privately."

his servants and advisors scurried out of there, afraid of the situation about to play out, only your right hand maid stayed. she closed the behind the last person to leave, locking it for you. you let out a heavy sigh as you leaned against his desk, your hand rubbing your temples. emil didn't look up, his eyes wide but you could see there was fear in them even with his head hung.

you picked up one of the pictures, one where the maid was clearly caught in the middle of having sex with him. you'd been out of the capital a few weeks ago for an event in your home kingdom. really it was just an excuse to let the guild master do what he needed. he really exceeded your expectations. it was hard not to smile.

"i don't remember doing that, please believe me."

"oh?" you set the picture down and shot him a glare. "just because you don't remember fucking her i should forgive you? what about kissing her? what about pushing her against the window behind you?"

"i-"

he watched helplessly as you picked up one of the pictures, your hand shaking. oh, when you got your hands on the royal treasury you were going to drown the guild master in gold. you had told him about emil's hatred for letting you leave the palace grounds, how emil wouldn't even take you to the cafe you so desperately wanted to go to. and here was a picture of him in the same cafe with the maid.

"what is this?"

"i-i don't know."

you forced your face to scrunch up in anger despite how excited you were. you were going to enjoy this too much. you turned to your maid who was still standing by the door.

"do you have my riding crop?"

"yes, your highness." she presented it to you and you handed her the picture of him at the cafe in exchange.

"what would you do if you were in my position?"

"i would ask for a divorce, your highness."

"no-"

emil's poor voice cracked but all he got was another glare.

"then I suppose I'm being merciful, right?"

"you are far too kind to that cheating filth, your highness."

you walked over to stand beside emil who already looked so broken and frightened. you ran your riding crop up his cheek.

"take your shirt off. unless you would rather the divorce?"

emil's body slipped to the ground as his knees gave out underneath him. tears started to stream from his eyes like the dam had finally broken.

"please, dont leave me, please, please."

you nudged him with the riding crop.

"shirt. off."

his hands were shaking as he started to unbutton his shirt.

[untitled-byler-blog]

Spiraling again folx 🥲

[earthchica]

Right My Wrongs

terry richmond x black fem! reader

summary: You and Terry had a good co-parenting relationship until he started dating a woman named Olivia who disrupted that dynamic.

warning: ANGST, toxic behavior, foul language, heartbreak, mention of fwb, mention of unexpected pregnancy, complicated situation, co-parenting, six-year-old daughter, name calling &, etc.

note: I was a little nervous about posting this, but here we go. Terry is an asshole in this; I'm sorry, lol. Part 2 will be out tomorrow; please let me know what you think.

series masterlist

You woke up suddenly to the sound of loud, urgent banging on your front door.

You glanced down at your daughter, still peacefully sleeping beside you.

You recall her coming into your bedroom because she had a bad dream.

With a weary groan, you glanced at the clock: it was almost midnight, and another knock reverberated at the front door.

You hurriedly got up, wrapped your robe around yourself, and slipped on your slippers to dash downstairs to the door.

Before opening the door, you looked through the peephole and saw that it was Terry.

He looked very upset; you immediately swung the door open and greeted him with a comforting expression.

"Terry... hey. Is everything alright?" you asked with a furrowed brow, your eyes filled with concern.

He looked up from his position and took a moment to meet your gaze before coming inside.

"She kicked me out." Terry expressed with irritation in his tone.

Oh, that bitch...Olivia.

You didn't know what Terry saw in her. She constantly causes him pain and breaks his heart, leaving you to mend the fragments every single time.

You have longed to express your true feelings to Terry and reveal the love nestled within your heart.

However, you knew it might never happen because Terry never gave you the impression that he saw you that way.

You and Terry were just friends, but your friendship blossomed into something sexual, leading to a complicated entanglement.

One night of unprotected sex resulted in an unexpected pregnancy.

You told Terry the news immediately, and he promised to be there for you and the baby.

Six years later, you two are raising a sweet, beautiful little girl named Jasmine.

She was a great mix of both of you: she inherited your beautiful nose and almond-shaped eyes while having her father's smile and eye color.

You and Terry maintained a strong friendship and a healthy co-parenting relationship until now.

He wasn't the man you once knew; she was transforming him into someone unrecognizable.

It was alarming you more than you'd like.

"Fuck, man. I give her everything she wants, and she always ends up fucking me over. What the fuck did I do to deserve this bullshit" Terry uttered, taking deliberate steps as he advanced toward the inviting comfort of the living room.

You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the moment heavy on your shoulders, before gently closing the door behind you.

Slowly, you approached him on the couch, ready to offer your comforting presence.

"You did nothing wrong, Terry. She doesn't deserve you; you deserve so much better. Like, for real, T... when will you wake up and see that?" you asked, placing your hand on his shoulder.

"I know....I know....It's just..." he says, his gaze intense as he looks at you with those piercing eyes.

"You love her?" You asked with a frustrated sigh.

"I do. I wish I didn't. I wish I could hate her, but I can't," Terry confessed.

"I'm sorry, Terry, but this isn't love. Love shouldn't hurt and leave you heartbroken. You deserve someone who makes you happy, makes you feel loved, and allows you to be yourself. Does she do that for you?" You asked.

With a deep breath, he shook his head. "No, she doesn't. Maybe you're right. I'm done dealing with her bullshit." He then offered a slight smile in your direction.

"Thanks, baby girl. I'm grateful to have such a great friend like you to lean on. Thanks for dealing with me and bullshit," He says, pulling you into a comforting hug.

"Yup! Let me get you some blankets," you said, quickly getting up to go to the hallway closet.

"Mommy?" You heard the sweet, melodic sound of your daughter's voice echoing from the top of the stairs.

Jasmine descended the stairs, wearing her cute bonnet and rubbing her eyes sleepily.

She looks at you first before turning to Terry, a slight smile growing on her face.

"Daddy!" She rushed over to him and hugged him, which caused Terry to burst into laughter.

"Hey, princess," he whispers softly, leaning in to gently kiss her forehead.

"Hi...daddy! What are you doing here?" she asked curiously, laying her head on his chest.

"What? Aren't you happy to see me?" he asked, a playful glint in his eye as he lightly tickled her side, causing her to erupt into a fit of giggles.

"No," she said emphatically, shaking her head.

"I'm always genuinely happy to see you," she explained with a warm smile, her words clear and sincere.

She was six years old, and always so sweet and expressive when she spoke her thoughts.

"I know, princess, and I'm always happy to see you. Your mom is letting me stay here, right?"

"Really? Mommy, is Daddy really staying over?" She asked, turning her gaze toward you.

"Yeah, sweetie. Just for the night. Now come on, let-" Jasmine excitedly interrupted you.

"Yayyy! Come on...daddy." She tightly grasps his large hand with her delicate, tiny fingers and eagerly pulls him into your bedroom.

You were about to intervene but decided to let it go because you were too tired to make a fuss.

You entered the bedroom to find Jasmine already asleep, cuddled into Terry's chest while his arm caressed her.

"I'm sorry. I hope this is okay. I can leave and sleep on the couch," he said with a tired expression.

"No, we don't want to wake her again. It's fine. Just get some sleep," you said with a yawn, getting into bed and trying to get comfortable in the blankets.

It was morning, and you woke up to find Jasmine sleeping on your arm, but Terry was not there.

You heard your phone ding; look to see that exact text. You were beyond pissed off.

Terry: Good morning! I'm sorry I left you and Jazzy like that. Liv called me, and we talked about everything. We're good again.

You didn't even reply to his text; you were in such disbelief at how he was so pussy whipped over this girl.

You knew you shouldn't be surprised; it was nothing new. Maybe you thought your words would finally reach him, and he would wake up.

You were so wrong.

It's been a few weeks since then, and you were coming to his place to pick up Jasmine after her week with him.

You exited the car and walked to buzz yourself into his apartment building.

You arrived at the fourth floor and knocked on his door. It slowly swung open, and Terry stood on the other side.

His face contorted in irritation, but just as quickly, a sense of ease washed over him when he saw it was you. "Hey, you!"

"Hi," You said coldly, pushing your way into his apartment, catching him off guard.

"Uh...how are you?" Terry asked as he closed the front door, then proceeded to follow you into the inviting living room.

"Good! Where's jazzy?" You responded with a brief answer, glancing around the room in search of your daughter.

"She's taking a nap. You good?" Terry asked, gazing at you with a touch of worry.

"Yup," you replied with a forced smile, concealing your true feelings.

You mistook the sound for Jasmine, but it was actually Olivia, which made you angry.

Terry had previously agreed not to have Olivia over when your daughter stayed with him.

This was it, you were fucking done.

Olivia enthusiastically greets Terry with a sloppy kiss, leaving a glossy on his lips before shooting you an irritated glance.

"Terry, what the hell is she doing here?" With arms crossed and a furious glare, you demanded his answer.

"I'm his girlfriend; I have every right to be," She explains, giving you a little attitude.

"Trick, I'm not fucking talking to you. I'm talking to Terry, the father of my child. Why don't you go, and make some tea while the grown-ups talk, okay?" You said with an intimidating gaze.

"Whatever, Terry will set you straight," She replied, rolling her eyes before heading into the kitchen to make some tea.

Terry gazed at you with a hint of irritation etched on his face and then spoke the words.

"What the fuck was that? You didn't have to talk to her like that," He asked with a frown.

"Why did you have this girl here...around my child when we agreed not to do that."

"It just happened; it's not a big deal. Olivia wanted to meet her, and I know I should've told you. I apologize," Terry said with a shrug.

"I don't give a rat's fucking ass...If she wants to meet her, you come to me first with this. Now go behind my back." You said with a look of intense anger etched on your face.

"Damn, woman. I fucking apologized, can you let it go? This shit ain't that serious," Terry sighed with frustration.

"It is fucking serious, Terry. This bitch got you so pussy whipped; you have lost who you are, your morals, and respect," You yelled, catching him completely off guard.

"What did you call her say?"

"You heard me. You are with a narcissistic, egotistical, manipulative ass bitch who doesn't treat you the way you deserve to be treated. She's changed you to fit her fantasy, and you're too fucking stupid to see it."

"Look...I don't appreciate you coming in here and talking-"

"I'm not done talking. You never seem to listen to me. This thing you think is love between you and her is not Terry. The man I once knew wouldn't tolerate this disrespect," You said, frustrated, uncrossing your arms.

"Look....It's none of your fucking business. You're just my baby mama," Terry said, clenching his jaw.

"Fuck you! You sure did make it my fucking business when you kept running your black ass to me whenever she did something wrong, but you know what? You're right. I'm nothing more than just your baby mama."

You found yourself overwhelmed with emotion, tears streaming down your face as you struggled to continue speaking.

"So I'm done with this; I'm done with you. I'm done being the shoulder you cry on, I'm so fucking done being in love with you and knowing I can't have you. I've been wasting my fucking time dreaming about us being a real family. I don't know why I thought you would wake up and see what's right in front of you. I guess that's my own damn fault," you cried.

Terry's heart dropped at your words, and emotion quickly washed over him.

His eyes were outstretched as he uttered your name and approached you, but Olivia stopped him.

"Let her go," Olivia said, wrapping her arms around his waist. You shake your head, rushing to get your daughter from another room.

She was napping, you are glad she didn't hear the yelling coming from the living room.

As you hurriedly gathered Jasmine's belongings, you couldn't help but overhear Terry and Olivia's arguing.

You swiftly picked her up gently without wasting any time and left the room.

Terry sat on the couch, his face in his hands, while Olivia was nowhere to be found, but you didn't care.

His eyes met yours, filled with a deep sense of regret. "I'm sorry...baby girl. I fucked up...I made Olivia leave. Don't leave, Let's talk, please,"

"No...I'm done, Terry. I made up my mind...Our communication will be strictly only about Jasmine, nothing more. Now let me go." You said that in a calmer tone of voice.

He didn't even put up a fight, which hurt a little. You stepped out of the door, making your way down the hall.

You exited the apartment building and went to your car. After securing Jasmine in her car seat, you closed the car door.

You got into the car, started the engine, and drove away with tears in your eyes.

You need to do this for your own well-being.

You couldn't be consumed by stress related to him and the current situation.

It's time to shift your focus towards prioritizing what is most beneficial for you.

It's been a month since you disconnected from Terry and his relationship issues, and you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders.

You still allow him to spend time with his daughter every other week, even after what he said to you.

You were not going to be the type of baby mother to raise hell and prevent him from seeing his child.

Terry was waiting for you to arrive at your house. He knew he had fucked up pretty badly by hurting you and disrespecting you.

His best friend and the mother of his child, out of all people in the world.

You both struggled to communicate feelings, so he was confused and surprised when you revealed your love.

He wasn't sure if he felt the same, but he was determined to apologize and make things right with you.

You were driving home just after dropping Jasmine off at your parents.

You needed some time to yourself, but it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

You roll your eyes when you see Terry sitting on your porch with a bouquet of flowers.

"What are you doing here, Terry?" You asked, walking towards him with a frown.

"I wanted to check on you, but you haven't answered my calls. I was a little worried. Where's Jazzy?" He inquired, rising from the porch steps."

"She's fine, I'm fine. She's at my parents' house, and you can go now," you explained shortly.

"Baby girl, please don't be like that. I fucked up, I know, and I'm sorry for the way I've been treating you. I broke up with Oliva...she's gone, out of the fucking picture. You were right; you were always right. I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," He speaks with genuine sincerity.

You let out a deep sigh and raised your eyes to the sky, feeling a mix of emotions.

"I forgive you, Terry, but...I meant every word I said. I'm done. It's just too painful for me. I'll be cordial with you when Jasmine is around, but outside of that, I'm done."

"I will respect that. I just have to ask why you didn't say anything before," he said, curious.

"It doesn't matter anymore, Terry. All that matters is raising Jazzy," you said coldly.

Terry looks down at the ground, disappointed with himself with an understanding nod.

Before walking away, he handed you the bouquet of your favorite flowers and whispered, "I'm sorry," once more.

You took a deep breath as you walked to the front door. "It's for the best," you thought to yourself.

[mr-ribbit]

gonna rant again bc im seeing a lot of trans women on my dash having to carry the heavy lifting to argue for their basic respect and a lot of other queer people who want to ??? get mad about that apparently. for the record as usual: im tme, im not speaking for anyone besides myself and my perspectives, but I am trying to reach out to fellow tme people to level with y'all from inside the house.

i thought we all got past the 'calling people gendered terms when theyve asked you to stop' thing in like. 2012. i swear we were allllll on board with not calling women dude anymore, nerfing sir and ma'am, neutralizing collective terms for groups, and all of that was like, during the onceler era. that's how we got off-putting shit like folx into the mix - remember???? why are we here again.

to those who I've seen claiming that they REALLY genuinely don't want to offend anyone, and that theyre trying to understand the dude thing, and they don't want to be seen as transmisogynistic when they aren't: ok. let's talk about it. step one, stop sending that really loaded anon to a trans woman you don't know, and close that in-group hatepost with 100 replies from people name-dropping trans bloggers they don't like. try to open your mind and assume for the duration of this post that I am not cynically trying manipulate thousands of tumblr users into making Bro the next big swear word, but a fellow queer human being who thinks you're all being pretty intentionally obtuse about an upsetting trend in our community

to be clear: this post is about the issue of trans women being called bro, dude, man, etc., particularly in recent tumblr discourse about transmisogyny, and the backlash they face if they get upset about it. this is also maybe moreso about the shitty ass excuses I see tme people make for why they supposedly can't stop doing this.

so let's go through some of the things I've been seeing people say they don't understand, supposedly in earnest, about this issue

"I DIDNT USE DUDE AS A MASCULINE TERM. I CALL EVERYONE BRO. MAN IS A GENDER NEUTRAL TERM"

I'm not actually going to exhaust my list of reasons why dude/bro/man are not strictly neutral, but you should be pretty aware that all words have context. Dude might be seen as neutral in many contexts, sure, but 'woman who is frequently called a man by others' is a situation where the context adds extra meaning to your words, just like calling someone "sweetie" might be neutral in some cases, but if you've got the context of knowing that's your coworker who's half your age, it's a bit less neutral. If you're not capable of reading that context and being tasteful about when you say dude, then you need to at least be ready to respond gracefully when someone asks you to stop. This is the part I'd rather focus on.

"BUT I DIDNT MEAN IT THAT WAY. IM NOT TRANSPHOBIC"

I think you should consider broadening your perspective *beyond* your intention behind the word. people may already understand that you meant the word neutrally and therefore didn't have transmisogynistic intent, but that's not really the entire scope of what people are saying. if that's your only concern, you're just trying to clear your record, not actually listen to what they're saying.

there are lots of words people don't enjoy being called, and in most cases, when they say 'pls don't call me that', people respect that and move on. even if the word isn't a slur, if it hurts someone's feelings, we all as a society have agreed that it's pretty shitty to keep calling them that. if your friend asked you not to call them 'buddy' anymore because their dead grandparent called them that, or something equivalently personal, you'd probably respect that instead of telling them 'but I call everyone buddy!!' right? even if you didn't really understand why it bothered them so much?

there is a prominent tendency for trans women to be denied this privilege, and when they ask not to be called dude or bro, people don't seem to respect this request as much as they would in other situations. when I accidentally use a gendered word and someone tells me they don't like it, I try to respond with something like "my bad, I didn't mean it as misgendering but I can see you were still bothered by it, so I'll try not to keep saying it. sorry!" and most people are willing to accept that. when trans women ask people this favor, a lot of people get VERY defensive, and treat the request as inane or unfair, instead of just apologizing and moving on. this is why people are upset when this happens, and it's why people are calling your actions transmisogynistic

also like you might not be doing this, but a lot of people DO use dude and bro in an intentionally gendered way to make trans women uncomfortable. it's a power play bigots use to talk down to them or otherwise maliciously harass them. do you know what arguments they use to defend that behavior when called out on it? 'oh I call everyone that' 'dude is gender neutral calm down' 'dont overreact its just a word'. by acting like this, youre all just giving credence to those same arguments.

"WELL THEY SHOULDNT GET SO MAD AT ME WHEN I DIDNT MEAN ANY HARM"

they can get as mad as they want!! also, are you sure they're 'mad'? or are they just expressing their feelings about a negative topic to you, and it makes you feel bad, so you have to make them out to be unreasonably emotional? how do you think they should have phrased 'dont call me that' to better spare *your* feelings?

also like, in most cases, these women do not knowww you. if your main response to someone saying you disrespected them is to say "I didnt mean it that way, I meant it in a friendly neutral way", well that's NOT YOUR FRIEND! she has no idea what your opinions are or what you think of her!!! she has no reason to assume you only upset her in a friendly way and not a bad unfriendly way! but she did get upset, and she did the one thing she can do which is *tell you what upset her* and your response is to say "well actually you shouldn't be upset at all"??????

and another thing:

it's not just the issue of using the word 'dude', it's because you're coming off extremely dismissive of women who have asked you to stop doing something that harms them, and because your argument is basically that they just shouldn't be so bothered by it. or that they're stupid, irrational, or otherwise crazy for telling you that it bothered them at all, just because you Technically used a gender neutral word according to Your Rules. be honest, does that seem fair? If people were calling you something that bothered you enough to ask them to stop, and they responded like this, how would it make you feel?

focusing solely on your intent and what the words mean when you use them is the same thing as saying "just get over it". no woman should need to Prove to you that 'dude' is gendered for you to care about what she's saying. the fact that you're asking people to do that sucks and makes you look bad, which is why people are arguing with you and calling you a misogynist.

especially those of you who are only doing this with trans women who are actively arguing with. you're wielding misgendering as a cudgel and we can all see it, grow up please.

[eggonthemoon]

Alien Stage Round 6 Character Analysis and Lyrics Breakdown

Okay so obviously spoilers, don't click Keep Reading if you haven't watched Round 6.

God fuck it's so fucking beautiful, where do I start?

I don't even know what is going on with those rapid shots of what I assume is some form of experiment that Till was involved in. I have no clue what the goal was or if it succeeded but somehow (for no real reason other than that one image of Luka standing behind Till ominously) I feel that Luka is involved with it.

Was this an attempt by Heperu's (Luka's guardian) rival to make a human capable of going up against Luka? Till being the youngest and Luka being the oldest also means that Till's guardian could have caught on to what Heperu was planning to do with Luka and then start experimenting on humans shortly after and it would still somewhat line up with the timeline.

But I'm getting into conspiracy territory, back to suffering!!

Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don't want to let you go

Oh this hurts. Seeing him look so defeated and exhausted, you can tell that even though to the public it's not certain whether Mizi died or not it doesn't matter to him. Because she's still gone away from his world, where he is unable to reach her. He wants to dissolve and die but he also doesn't want to let her go if there is even a sliver of hope that she lives.

Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you

The footage that plays to these lyrics really show how defeated he is. He refuses to sing, his passion for the art completely dead and buried. And (his guardian I assume) when someone shoves the fact that Mizi is gone in his face he lashes out and punches one of the aliens near him.

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

However his heart isn't entirely in it and is quickly apprehended.

He is beyond exhausted and doesn't even protest or put up a fight while (the same alien he punched btw) another alien runs their fingers through his hair.

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul

He hopes that even if Mizi is dead that her spirit watches over him, seeing his soul and by extension, Him, for all that he is. Every thought and breath until he falls asleep is for Mizi.

But didn't we already know this is how he'd be like? Time for something juicier~

Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart

God this is heart shattering. Even if Till doesn't care for him, even if Till throws hurtful words his way, Ivan will still lie awake at night, cherishing what sliver of attention he is given. It doesn't matter if Till hates him, because as long as he is on Till's mind Ivan is happy. He is entirely in Till's hands, capable of being build up or torn down depending on how much (or how little) he is perceived by him.

Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I'll drown in you

He wants so deeply to be seen by Till, noticed. Till who doesn't let anything hold him down and always picks himself back up became a pillar of hope and strength to Ivan. It didn't matter how or in what context he gets to be seen, so he went out of his way to provoke him just to get Till to look at him even for a moment.

This was mentioned a while back on VIVINOS Patreon but the entire incident where Mizi and Till got attacked by that hound monster was orchestrated by him. I feel like there is two possible reasons for this depending on when in the timeline this takes place.

Either he wanted to test Till's resolve in hopes of being proven wrong about his courage (after all your hopes can't be dashed on the rocks, if you never had hopes to begin with) only for his obsession to end up growing even stronger than before.

Or he tried to let Till get roughed up enough that he'd be transferred (solitary confinement? emergency room?) somewhere else away from the others at Anakt, so they could escape together.

But we all know how that turned out.

Either way what Ivan wants isn't freedom, he's long since given up on that. There's no point in his freedom if the person that inspired him to yearn for it isn't by his side. He needs Till there, his very presence to reassure him that no matter what Till won't falter. But he failed to take account of the one thing that weakens Till's resolve.

Mizi.

Mizi is to Till what Till is to Ivan. And so without Mizi in his world Till crumbles. Since Till will only go where Mizi is and Mizi already gave away her heart to someone else, it's impossible for Ivan to be free while keeping Till in his world.

And so he follows him, resigning himself to a life without freedom.

Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

But the distance between them is killing him, and each and every day they come closer to their inevitable doom.

It doesn't matter if they believe the lie the aliens told them, that if they die singing they will be blessed. Because what is the point in that? How can going somewhere far away from the people they love be a blessing?

In your gaze where I am seen

Consume me

Yes, me

His desires mirror Till's. He wants his soul to be seen by him, recognized for his undying love for him. He wants Till to see that he can give him all that Till yearns for in Mizi and more.

To this everlasting melody

Face to face we dance

And yet Till still refuses to look Ivan in the eyes.

Things get a little unclear but since they aren't shown singing here and there's no flashback to accompany the lyrics, we can assume that at this moment Till most likely gave up on singing.

With our story

Lost in forever's embrace

I'm not sure if Ivan intended this from the start or if it's a decision he made then and there but one thing is certain. If Till stops singing then that would mean he forfeits, he'll lose. Till has never once given up. Even when he went back for Mizi that night, he never intended to leave her in the first place. But now without her he crumbles.

And Ivan can't let that happen, not like this.

Moral grey area aside, this scene is so deeply moving to me

And I don't say that in a romantic context, absolutely not. This is something much deeper than just love. This is the culmination of everything they've been through, all those moments lead up to this.

Because this isn't a kiss.

This is Ivan throwing his life away for Till.

Till was going to loose, the only thing that could overturn that is if his opponent attacks him. The kiss was to distract Till and keep him from catching up to what Ivan was planning.

Just look at the contrast between their first and second kiss. As soon as the score board shows Till is in the lead, he gives him a gentle peck on the lips. The contrast is stark and full of meaning. This was the genuine kiss, hidden behind a smokescreen of aggressive bravado created from the previous one.

And it worked. Till was completely convinced that Ivan's intentions was to kill him, and he was fully intent on letting him.

I know a lot of people doubted his intentions. Because he didn't let go of Till's neck the minute he saw their scores, a lot of people assume that this was Ivan trying to drag Till down with him.

But the minute he coughed up blood what does he do?

He smiles.

and let's Till go.

He's only human. He might know logically that Till has won the match. But emotionally he refuses to let go until he is certain.

Until he knows for a fact that he is the one bleeding and dying he'll keep up his charade.

And then.

And only then.

Till truly sees Ivan.

As he dissolves in his gaze.

[katsu28]

hi kait!! finally found my way into your inbox, i feel like it’s been a tiiiny bit overdue 😭

i’d love to request writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random pages of their textbook, so that they will get a little endorphin boost when studying with oscar if that’s okay! (or max, if you wanna give a hand at writing for him)

liyah!!! you're right on time babe, thank you so much for this request! i had so much fun writing this and i'm hoping i did max justice <3

max verstappen x reader, 2k, a dash of google translated dutch lol. request something from here!

“Fuck!” 

Your forehead thunks down against your open textbook for what feels like the millionth time. You feel like you’ve been staring at the same page for hours, yet you still can’t seem to make any sense of what you’re looking at, and it makes you want to scream. 

Now don’t get it wrong, you love learning and you’re fortunate enough to be pursuing an advanced education, but it’s at times like these you wonder if it’s all worth it. There’s so much information to take in and not enough hours in the day to remember it all, and you’re running out of time before you have to take this godforsaken exam that could prevent you from moving to the next level of courses. 

No pressure, or anything, of course. 

“Careful, mijn liefje, you're too smart to be banging your head on the table like that.” Max’s voice rings out from behind you, and you’re too tired to even jump. You hadn’t even heard him let himself into your apartment, let alone sneak up on you. He leans down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“I don’t feel smart,” You huff, feeling his hands smooth along your shoulders. “I feel like an idiot.” 

“You’re not an idiot.” He replies, very as-a-matter-of-factly. His thumbs press into the knots at the base of your neck like he knows exactly where they are, rubbing slow circles. You don't see it, but he scans your surroundings with a furrowed brow as he massages your stiff muscles. 

The table around you is littered with things—crumpled papers, empty Red Bull cans, an entire stationery store’s worth of pens and highlighters, and most worryingly, your still completely full water bottle. If that sight is any indication, he can safely assume you probably haven’t left your place in this chair for a while. 

“I don’t want you to take this the wrong way because I mean it from a place of love, but when was the last time you got some sleep?” 

“What? I dunno, like yesterday—wait, what day is it today?” 

Max presses his lips into a thin line. He’s never been one to worry too much about your studies, because you’re fully capable of keeping things in order yourself, but it might be starting to get out of hand. Now feels like a good time to step in and take matters into his own hands. “If you have to think that hard about it, it’s been too long.” 

Finally you look up at him, and boy is he right. You look utterly exhausted, even as you vehemently shake your head side to side. “I’m not tired, Max. I need to study.” 

“You’ve been studying for ages. What you need is rest.” 

“I can’t. I don’t have time for rest, I need to be ready for my exam,” You argue, already turning back to your textbook. Max crouches down next to you, blanketing your knee with a large, warm palm. His other hand eases the pen out of your grasp, fingers lacing with yours instead. 

“Please take a break, schatje. If not for yourself, do it for me.” 

One look at those pretty, pleading blue eyes of his and you cave, nodding defeatedly. “Maybe a little nap couldn't hurt.” 

Max nods enthusiastically, gently pulling you out of your seat and towards the hallway leading to your bedroom before you have a chance to reconsider. You’re leaning heavily against him, basically already half asleep as he guides you down onto the soft mattress as easily as he can. 

“Wake me up in twenty minutes, please,” You mumble, giving a sluggish tug at his hand. 

“Of course.” 

He won’t, but you don’t need to know that. Max will gladly take any consequences if it means you get at least an hour of rest, hopefully more. Your health and wellbeing is the most important thing to him. 

Your eyes flutter shut on their own accord mere seconds later, soft snores emitting from your mouth even before Max pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Not tired, my ass,” He chuckles under his breath, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before exiting the room as quietly as he can. 

While you get some much needed sleep, Max organizes your study space a little, tossing away the cans and wrappers, plugging in your computer to charge, then moves onto the kitchen and cleans up in there too. 

The living room area is next on his checklist; blankets get folded and put back in their rightful spots, and windows get opened because he won’t lie, the air smells a little stale in here. He figures a complete reset and a neat area might help ease your mind when you wake up. 

As he surveys his tidy job, his eyes land on your open textbook, then the massive stack of multicolored post-it notes next to it. He might not be able to help with the studying part, but there is something he can do about keeping your spirits up while you work on the former. 

He settles himself into your chair, hunching over at the desk as he scribbles notes to you. Encouragements, affirmations about how bright you are and how proud he is of you, dumb jokes to hopefully make you laugh, even his best shot at the little cute doodles you draw for him on the whiteboard of his driver’s room whenever you’re in there waiting for him. Obviously, they’re nowhere near as good—Max has never claimed to be much of an artist—but hopefully they’re enough to give you a little mood boost during your study sessions. 

Being careful to mark your spot, he scatters the sticky notes randomly throughout the crisp pages. 

You rouse from your sleep hours later, barely able to get a word out before Max ushers you to the bathroom to relax in the hot bath he’s drawn for you. Despite your protests, you sink into the nearly scalding water (which is just the way you like it) with an appreciative sigh.

Only once you’re fresh and clean and thoroughly pampered by your boyfriend does he let you come back to where you were when he first found you earlier today. But it looks different. It’s not a mess anymore. Upon glancing around the rest of the place, you can tell that he’s done quite a bit whilst you were passed out. 

“Did you…clean my apartment while I was asleep?” You ask in bewilderment, taking in the neatly organized space with wide eyes. It even smells fresh, lemony and bright and not at all like the despair of an overworked twenty something year old student during exam season. 

“Yep.” Max says simply, popping the ‘p’. 

“Why?” You’re not mad in any way, shape or form, just simply stunned. It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you and Max just shrugs like it’s no big deal. His nonchalance still takes you aback sometimes. 

“Thought it might help. Anyways, you get one hour to study, then you’re taking a break even if I have to drag you away from that book myself,” He warns, pinning you to the spot with a stern glare. “I’ll be in the other room, but I have a timer on, so don’t even try to pull one over on me. One hour. Call out if you need anything.” 

He kisses you firmly on the side of your head and then he’s gone, leaving you alone to hit the books once more. 

Slumping into the chair with a groan, you shake your head not unlike a dog would, flipping open your book again to where you’d left off. Your head feels a little clearer now, a little less foggy now thanks to Max’s efforts, and you’re hoping it’ll make a difference. 

Your gaze is immediately drawn to a bright green sticky note a few pages later, off in the side margins. It isn’t one of your notes though, but rather Max’s tiny handwriting, an odd mixture of lower and uppercase letters spelling out a message. 

You’re doing an amazing job. Keep pushing!

Before you know it, you’ve flipped through the entire book in your search of more notes from Max, your grin only growing bigger and bigger with each one you find. 

Why don’t dinosaurs talk? Because they’re dead. 

I’m proud of you for making it this far. You’re so smart. 

What are Sassy and Jimmy’s favorite day of the week? Cat-urday. 

If you find this one, we’ll go to Bora Bora during summer break. 

That last one is tucked in the back cover, signed and dated by him. You plan to keep it as undeniable proof when the time comes, though you suspect he won’t try to deny it. He’d be happy to whisk you off to any place you wanted if you asked. 

Every single one of his notes makes you grin like an idiot, but his attempts at drawing his cats are your favorite ones of all. It takes you a few moments to understand what exactly you’re looking at, but when you squint at what could be the outline of Sassy’s ears, it makes you actually laugh out loud. 

Warmth spreads from your head to the tips of your toes at the thought of Max taking the time to do all this for you, even though he really didn’t have to. When you think about it, he’s always been this way—showing that he cares through his actions. Taking care of his loved ones without having to say a word. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

Like always, Max is true to his word. One hour later on the dot, he marches back in with gusto. 

“Alright, break time! Let’s go get some food. Lando keeps waffling on about some Greek place that’s apparently super popular and the best he’s ever had, if you don’t mind—” He stops mid sentence and mid stride at the sight of you staring back at him. You’re not smiling, but you also don’t look angry. It’s actually a little unsettling, really. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

You barrel into Max with enough force to make him stumble backwards a few steps, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. He lets out a soft noise of surprise at having to catch you all of a sudden, one that is quickly stifled because your lips are on his now, and you’re kissing him the same way you do when he comes home after a triple header and you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

The kiss is short, but teeming with emotion. Love, appreciation, gratitude—you kiss Max with everything you’ve got, and when you pull away he looks pleasantly confused. 

“What was that for, schatje?” He chuckles, smoothing a hand up and down your back. You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Everything.” You mumble, pressing your face into the softness of his jumper. Another laugh rumbles through him, fonder this time. 

“Everything.” He repeats. You nod against his chest, and he knows what you’re trying to say, even if you’re not saying it. He sighs contentedly, nestling his chin over the top of your head. 

You’d stay like this forever if you could, if neither of you had things to do and places to be. Just you and your Max, who knows you so well you don’t even have to tell him what you need. And what you need right now is food. 

Max rocks you side to side, voice light as he ponders the options, because he just knows what you’re thinking already. “If we hurry, we could probably still get a table before the Greek place closes. Or maybe not, but I’ll pay them extra to stay open for us.” 

“I like the way you think, Maxie.” You beam, kissing him again. A little too quickly for his liking, but he doesn’t mind. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy.

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)

[waywardsou2]

FatherFigure!Logan X Latebloomer!AdoptedMaleReader

I was not expecting this to end up being this long...but I guess it is. I'm really happy with how this turned out. I won't spoil it. But this reader's mutation is my favourite in any universe.

Summary: You were adopted by Logan on one of his errands out of the school. Charles has deduced that you were a mutant but your mutation has not presented itself yet. One day it does, and it's not pretty.

Tags: blood, slight gore, warning for graphic imagery, hurt/comfort, father Logan, mentions of Charles and Jean

Word Count: 1.4k

Logan was sitting in Charles' office. It had been a few weeks since he had decided to stay at the school permanently and had taken up the job offer as a history teacher.

To be fair he had been alive since before the civil war so there wasn't anyone more perfect for their job. Especially now that he was able to get a lot of his memories back.

Charles has become like somewhat of a father figure to Logan, if not a good friend and confidante at the very least.

Logan had not only chosen to stay so the he could have a free room and a purpose in life but also because of you.

He had found you on a missions, picked you up and taken you back to the school. Charles had let Logan know when he was in the area that there was a mutant who hadn't presented yet.

It was safest for you here. Just because there was no way to actually tell when or what your mutation might manifest into.

But as Logan and Charles talked Charles fell silent in the middle of their conversation. Logan's eyebrows twitched in question as Charles eyes went glassy before coming back to focus on Logan. A new found worry in his eyes.

"Charles?"

"His mutation has finally manifested...Logan go"

Logan didn't have to be told twice. He knew at some point your mutation would manifest but it was hard to say when. You were well past the age of your mutation manifesting physically but there's a late bloomer in every species.

Logan pushed his chair back, it squeaking across the floor as it scrapes along the wood. He dashes down the corridors, dodging kids left and right as he makes his way to your room.

As soon as he turns down the corridor your room is in he hears it.

A piercing scream that hurts his amplified senses. A sound makes his heart ache.

He gets to the door of your room and pushes it open.

He finds you on the floor, curled in on yourself. Your shirt ripped in the back and a spattering of blood on your shirt and the floor.

You look up to see Logan. Thank fuck he's here. Before you could say anything, you open your mouth and a scream replaces your words. A sharp throb of pain spreading across your back and into your spine once more.

Logan bends down in front of you and tries to sit you up but you stay tucked into yourself.

He checks you over, as much as he can without moving you but he doesn't need to look too hard. Now that he's closer, kneeling in front of you he can see what's happening.

Sticking out of the holes in your ripped shirt are two bones, partially covered in skin and what looks to be...no way are those feathers?

Are you growing wings?

He hadn't heard of a mutation like this before. One the alters bone structure and genetic make up well into adolescent development. He would have to get Jean to check you over but right now he knew you couldn't move.

He could see the bone moving, growing at an accelerated rate that should have taken a years naturally. The skin and feathers began growing over the bone as more and more of it began to grow and stick out of your skin. The flesh around it was torn and you were bleeding profusely. He was worried about the blood loss but there was no way to staunch the blood without interfering with your growing. He might make it worse if he tampered with it.

So instead he sat there with you. He pulled you over to him so you could still stay doubled over, but your head was resting on his lap as he curled his legs underneath himself. He kept his hand in your hair, stroking it and whispering comfort to you.

He was hard to hear over your crying and occasional cries of pain but his presence was enough. It meant everything to you.

But that feeling was too mingled with fear and pain and you couldn't fully process anything. You just let the tears fall down your face as you tried to stifle your screams. Biting down on your own lip until it bled so that you didn't frighten any of the other children.

Logan watched as the bones continued to grow from your back. Sticking out further and further until a second bond joined the first one creating the rest of the wingspan as more feathers, longer and stronger began sprouting from further down the wing.

It was a few hours before the mutation had fully manifested. You had long since stopped crying the tears staining your face. You lay breathing heavily with your head still in Logan's lap.

He hadn't left your side the entire time. You sniffed and tried to keep your breathing even but even though the pain was gone the panic was not going anywhere.

When Logan was sure it was all over he helped you sit up. Making sure you didn't sit on your new wings and didn't aggravate the injury.

"Can you stand? We need to get you to Jean."

You nodded. Your back felt strange. There was a new weight. A new neurological connection to a set of muscles that hadn't existed before. You could feel the wings, you were in tune to them. Having them felt as natural as having two arms. But moving them hurts. So you let them drag on the ground behind you, rather than holding them up.

Logan took your hand and helped you walk to Jeans lab. You felt dizzy, all the blood loss has made you woozy.

Your bedroom floor and Logan's jeans were stained with it. There was so much.

Logan looked at your wings as he walked beside you. They were a deep green. Something like the leaves of the forest he used to live in during the spring. It was a beautiful colour. It matched your eyes and your hair.

He felt your pain. Knowing what it was like to have your body rip itself open for a "gift" you didn't want.

He was going to be there for you every step of the way whilst you figured this out. He made a promise to take care of you and he was going to keep it. Even if that mean struggling through your manifestation.

The two of you got to Jeans lab and she had you lay face down on her table. She poked at your wings trying to move your ripped shirt and new wings aside so she could assess the damage. It hurt. Any movement hurt but if she didn't clean the wound it would hurt a lot more later on.

She has to cut you out of your shirt because the blood had dried into a sticky brown colour and she couldn't risk getting cotton in the gashes.

She explained to you what she had to do and you nodded accepting what was necessary.

Logan crouched down in front of you and you looked at him from the bench. Forcing out a smile before Jean got to work. You shoved your face down into the table hiding the expression of pain you could feel twisted into your features. You didn't want Logan to see that. But he grabbed your hand and held onto it. You squeezed it each time pain ebbed over your skin. And he squeezed back, letting you know he was still here.

After what felt like too long Jean announced she was done. She had to stitch up a gap that was unnecessary to your wings range of movement. The extra flesh that had been torn from the growth.

She informed you that you would have to come see her again the next day and that you would have to be careful how you slept and moved until everything had fully healed and your body had adjusted.

After that Logan leads you back up to your room and helps you into bed. You don't bother to get changed. You doubt that you would fit into any of your shirts now anyway. You crawled into bed and tried to find a comfortable position but it was hard. You didn't have enough room anymore.

You reached a hand out from your place on your bed. Feeling with your hand you try to find Logan in the darkness of your room. He takes your hand and with the little strength you have you try to pull him towards you.

He gets the message and sits down in your bed. Kicking off his boots and pulling you back to lay on his legs and chest. Acting as a full body pillow for you. Within moments the exhaustion of the day caught up with you and you were out like a light.

I'm so glad I could write this. Staying up till 2am was totally worth it gets this done. I'm so proud of it! If you like this then please consider sending in a request of your own. I would be happy to take them in

[butterfluffy]

strawhats + d. mihawk with a healer!s/o

⠀⠀ੈ♡˳· what would it be like being a healer, and an s/o to these people?

⠀⠀➧ unlabeled | strawhats, d. mihawk (separate)  x gn!reader | multi-character headcanons

⠀⠀➧ warnings — idk, none, ig? mistakes may be present tho.. so do ignore them, thanks.

⠀⠀➧ requests are closed, sorryyyyy..!

⠀⠀꒰ 🍨 ꒱ notes: finally writing to clear out my inbox aAaaaAahhHhhHHHHh

req by @n0body-1mportant

MONKEY D. LUFFY

This trouble maker captain right here is always injured lol

So that said, you always go on healing your big, trouble maker baby

Wild card : Though he can take punches, kicks, and even stabs without screaming in pain—Luffy starts whining like a poor puppy everytime he comes to ask you to patch him up.

“Y/n...! Look, look, I'm heavily injured! I'm reaallyy hurt! Won't you heal me!? And, and! Won't you give me a kiss, too, for doing a great job in beating that bastard's ass!?”

RORONOA ZORO

Same as his captain, the first mate is always injured—due to fights, his harsh training, and other causes

..Despite always being injured, Zoro hates getting himself patched up. But if you're the one doing the healing so he could get better, it's all good for him!

Wild card : Zoro doesn't care if he's greatly bleeding out during a fight—but outside a fight, if he got the smallest cut, Zoro immediately dashes to you to get himself healed up..!

“Hey, so, I was peeling myself apples a while ago using that ero-cook's damned knife—now I got this cut. Heal it now, and eat these with me, yeah?”

NAMI

Nami very much hates getting herself injured, especially getting scars

So Nami is quick to rush to you to get her injury fixed

Wild card : this happens quite rarely, since as said above, she hates getting scars—but, nami sometimes get herself injured on 'places' to see you flushed when she asks you to heal it~

“Babyyy..! Look, look! Look at my perfectly beautiful legs here! They've got a scar! Their beauty has been tarnished, so, please.. Take care of them, yeah~?”

USOPP

Usopp avoids getting himself injured at all cost.

And when he does get injured, he screeches as he dash towards you with tears on his eyes, asking you to heal his injury ASAP.

Wild card : I have this headcanon for Usopp where he's a real clutz, so he always has an injury here and there, and wounds that he doesn't know where it came from.

“Y-Y/n..! W..When I woke up, I saw this new wound on my arm..! I..I don't know where it came from—it's probably from the spirits that I've angered, waaahh!!”

(it was caused by Luffy. He was dreaming that Usopp was a piece of meat, and bit him during their sleep. 💀)

VINSMOKE SANJI

As the left hand man of the ship's captain, Sanji is always out on a fight to support his captain, so injuries are unavoidable.

He's developed durability to the beating up he receives and shows it off his coolness to you, BUT AFTER THE FIGHT, he whines.

Wild card : This perv right here always has a nosebleed everytime you go patch up his beaten up ass, causing you more trouble.

“My loveee..! I'm injured, I'm badly hurt..! Everything's so painful, so please, heal me with your magic kiss—*you kiss him* *he nosebleeds*”

NICO ROBIN

Robin isn't a big fan of getting injuries during combat, or whenever.

Though despite being injured, she handles it like a Queen! (You don't.)

Wild card : As said above she handles her injuries like the Queen she is, BUT, you don't—you're more panicked when she's injured as she stays calm while telling you some morbid jokes.

“Darling.. Please calm down. I'm not going to die, you know? All I got is this small scratch the size of a severed finger, so, don't worry about me too much, okay?”

FRANKY

SUPEEEERRRRR Franky right here who's a barely gets himself injured.

↑ Why? Because, he's a cyborg, a cool one who will barely get a scratch..!

Wild card : ...When Franky does get injured for some reason being during a fight or where else, he starts crying like a small child to you as he asks you to heal him...!

“Waaahh! This damned injury hurts so bad..! It's SUPEEEERRRR painful, I'm gonna cry! Y/n, Y/n, quick, quickly, heal me and ease my pain..!!”

DRACULE MIHAWK

The greatest swordsman? Injured?? Pfft, not a chance.

Though when he's going against strong fellas, he gets some scratches here and there, which he deals with by himself—not wanting to bother you.

Wild card : Mihawk doesn't show it, but, he loves, and finds it cute when you insist on helping him with his injury that he already had managed, or can obviously handle fixing by himself.

“My dear... I already fixed my injury, so don't worry about it. But.. If you really insist on using your ability to speed up the healing process.. Alright. I'll let you.”

© butterfluffy 2023

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