#but it didnt want to absorb it either

[iolitemoth]

first up is a little doodle of timber hearth + the attlerock, + a bonus jasper

a new solar system! i wonder what adventures lay in store??

[bhaalsdeepbat]

Going to preface this by saying I love Tailor Astarion, these are just some thoughts I'm having tonight

I don't think Astarion would be able to make garments, beyond eying something he owns and replicating it. I think embroidery served a purpose and it was an outlet that took up minimal space, plus easier to store in a chest. The room the...less favored Spawn share isn't that large. It would just feel smaller as more spawn were introduced to their corner of hell.

It's also one of those cases where I'm not certain if he would genuinely enjoy the craft or not, since it less seems a skill developed with love and more like a necessary skill. It doesn't seem he cares as much for it if he's adventuring (based on his doublet having paint instead of embroidery at the epilogue party), but that also checks out for needing a break from something you did that you enjoyed while in a traumatic situation bc it reminds you of that trauma when you try to get back to it.

But he absolutely knows he is not your guy for anything complicated but would want to pull an Emperor's New Clothes situation for anyone who tried to make him do work for them

[kingdomkome]

what i do need its to read a book that will completely anihilate me

[nothorses]

hi sorry to bother u about this, i searched around transmasc subreddits for an answer to this and while i saw a few people joking about getting dry cramps, nobody seems to know what this is. and i vaguely remember seeing a post by you mentioning "mystery cramps" in a post also about vaginal atrophy, but I didnt pay attention to the post much at the time bc at that point i wasnt experiencing atrophy or mystery cramps.

but now I'm a bit over a year on T, (my periods stopped only about 4 months ago though, because i was on a much lower dose than most for a lot longer time than most. that ~4 months ago time frame lines up with upping my dose from 0.2 to 0.3ml. i'm on 0.4ml tho now as of about 3 weeks ago) and suddenly i'm getting "mystery cramps" sometimes, it seems to happen especially the night before my T-shot day, (but i cant say that with certainty—i know i'm having them right now and my shot day is tomorrow morning, and i think thats been the case, but i dont know for sure) and they feel exactly like period cramps. to the point where i feel super paranoid that maybe i've been injecting improperly and the testosterone isnt absorbing right and my period is actually coming back. (something i often have nightmares about)

i searched your blog again for that post and did find it, (the one about estradiol cream treating it) but the wording of it is a little unclear and i wanted to just clarify that this is the same thing youre talking about? or if what im experiencing is different than the "mystery cramps" you meant and i should see a doctor

I am for sure not a doctor, and I think you should see one either way!

My personal understanding of the "mystery cramps" is that it's a part of "vaginal atrophy" that some, but not all trans folks who go on T experience, and it usually doesn't start until a couple of years on T ( which is also, to my knowledge, based on more standard doses as opposed to "low-dose" T).

Mine started about two years in, and was happening occasionally at first- always at night, and often the day before my T shot- then progressed to several nights a week over time. Nowadays I tend to experience cramping almost every time I so much as miss one dose of estradiol. Ibuprofen and Midol are the only OTC pain relievers that seem to do the trick, and the cramping will keep me up through the entire night untreated. It also tends to come in fairly predictable waves (spaced maybe 15-30 minutes apart) and right before I started estradiol, I remember getting some light spotting as well.

iirc, I talked to my PCP when it was just starting up, and their response was along the lines of "that's weird, let's keep an eye on it". I moved and didn't have a PCP for a while, so when the spotting started, I went to a walk-in urgent care clinic and talked to them. They gave me a referral for an ultrasound, and encouraged me to go to a "women's health" clinic that had long history of specializing in trans care as well. When I talked to the folks at that clinic, they encouraged me to go through with the ultrasound (I didn't), and prescribed estradiol cream because I asked them to and they didn't see a reason not to try it.

If you think it's possible this is what's going on with you, I would really encourage you to talk to a doctor, specifically bring up research around this issue and estradiol cream as a treatment option, and ask them if there's a reason not to try it just to see if it does anything for you. If nothing else, estradiol cream also treats vaginal dryness, tightness, and inflammation (other symptoms of "vaginal atrophy"), so it might be worth a shot for those reasons anyway!

And don't do what I did; if they want you to do an ultrasound or whatever else, go with it, and rule out other possibilities. Listen to medical advice from medical professionals who know your medical history and who you trust are listening to you & know what they're talking about.

[ikkyfics]

hiii, could you maybe write a dave lizewski x reader where the reader is also a huge comic book nerd like dave? and he comes over to her place to help her organize all her comic books + action figures into her display shelves + they yap together abt comic stuff or something

it can be established rs or pre relationship, i think either way would be still be so cute!!! it would also be rlly cool to see a more sarcastic reader utilized here, its cute to see that dynamic with dave!!!

i rlly hope this makes sense! i hope it didnt seem too rambly 😭😭😭😭 thank uuuuu

Supreme Sarcasm Power

Dave Lizewski x f!reader

Summary: "I knew you had an impressive collection, but… this is practically a nerd sanctuary." "You only say that because you want to marry me and get half of the assets in the division," you retorted. The teasing tone made Dave flash a crooked smile, nearly dropping the action figure. "I don't need a comic collection for that," he shot back, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Just you."

Warnings: just fluffy

A/N: honey, yeees I understood, don't worry. I feel like I made a mistake with the nerdy references(so sorry), but I hope you can like it <33

Masterlist

The room was a perfect reflection of your personality: half Disney princess, half intergalactic warrior. Cute plushies shared space with incredibly detailed action figures, and shelves full of comics contrasted with delicate pastel-colored lamps. Dave was in the middle of the organized chaos, holding a Captain America action figure in one hand and a Watchmen comic book in the other.

"I knew you had an impressive collection, but... this is practically a nerd sanctuary," he said, trying not to sound too impressed—and failing miserably.

"You only say that because you want to marry me and get half of the assets in the division," you retorted, not even looking up as you stacked some issues of Saga. The teasing tone made Dave flash a crooked smile, nearly dropping the action figure.

"I don't need a comic collection for that," he shot back, his eyes sparkling behind his glasses. "Just you."

"Aww," you replied, turning to face him with an arched eyebrow. "But if you drop my Captain America, forget it."

Dave chuckled, slightly flushed, as he carefully placed the action figure on the designated shelf. "Seriously, how did you get this? This limited edition costs a fortune."

"Connections," you replied mysteriously, crossing your arms. "And what I did was sell part of my soul. Totally worth it, don't you think?"

Dave laughed, still eyeing the action figure in his hands before carefully returning it to its proper spot on the shelf. You could feel his gaze lingering on every detail of your room, as if he was absorbing it all. It was the kind of attention he gave to everything he loved, and, well, you knew that included you. But you weren’t going to admit that out loud, at least not without making a sarcastic comment right after.

"So, what's next on the organization list?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips in an awkward but absurdly adorable way.

You pointed to the stack of boxes in the corner of the room. "That one. But be careful with the one at the bottom, it has glass. And if you break something... well, let's just say not even the Hulk will protect you."

"Got it," he responded with a serious expression that lasted two seconds before giving way to a nervous smile. "No ruining my entrance to the Avengers, noted."

As he bent down to grab the next box, you returned your focus to organizing the comics alphabetically—because, of course, it had to be alphabetical. It didn’t take long for the comfortable silence to be broken by a strange sound coming from Dave: a mix of a sigh and a stifled laugh.

"What’s up?" you asked, not turning around. The casual tone was a clear attempt to ignore the little wave of concern that hit you. After all, that kind of sound coming from him usually meant he'd found something... compromising.

He didn’t answer, which only made your anxiety worse. When you finally turned around, your heart practically dropped to your stomach. There he was, holding a Quicksilver poster with a lipstick mark strategically placed on the character’s cheek. The bright red contrasted with the worn paper, clearly loved too much during its glory days.

"Oh, God," you muttered, bringing a hand to your face. "Dave, give me that."

He held the poster above his head with a grin so wide it looked like it might split his face in half. "I didn’t know you were such a big fan of Peter Maximoff."

"I’m not!" you shot back, already crossing the room toward him. "It was a teenage thing. Give it to me before I die of embarrassment."

"Teenage?" He raised an eyebrow, as if processing a revolutionary discovery. "You used to kiss posters as a teenager?"

"I didn’t kiss posters!" you exclaimed, trying to jump and grab the paper, but he had the height advantage. "It was just... I had a crush, okay? And that’s none of your business!"

He laughed, stepping back. "I think it is. After all, I’m the one who’ll have to compete with Quicksilver now."

"Dave Lizewski, I swear I’ll..." you began, but he interrupted, holding the poster even higher.

"What are you going to do? Summon your supreme sarcasm powers? Because, as far as I know, that’s not going to help you get this," he teased, his eyes gleaming with pure amusement.

You sighed, trying not to show how defeated you were in your own specialty: keeping composure. Dave seemed to be enjoying every second of this role reversal, holding the poster like a freshly won trophy, his dark curls slightly messy on his forehead, and his blue eyes shining behind his glasses. It was hard to stay truly mad at him when he had that expression—a half-smile, half-mischievous grin—that made your heart stumble before you even realized it.

But you weren’t going to give up that easily.

"Do you really want to turn this into a battle?" you shot back, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow. "Because, as far as I know, you’re not exactly known for winning."

He laughed, a low chuckle that seemed to reverberate in the space between you. "Oh, sure. This coming from the person who’s literally turning red just because I found out she kissed posters."

"I didn’t kiss posters," you repeated, even though the evidence was incriminatingly clear.

Dave raised his hand even higher, the poster swaying dangerously above you both. He wasn’t exactly tall, but he was strong in a way that didn’t seem obvious at first glance—not until you noticed the muscles in his arms, visible even under the sleeves of his T-shirt. You tried again to grab the poster, but he leaned back, laughing once more.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you muttered, stopping your jumping and placing your hands on your hips. "I can't believe I’m losing to you."

"That’s what makes me a genius, right?" he responded, still with that teasing tone. "I finally figured out your weakness: teenage embarrassment."

"No way," you said, your voice firm, even though the back of your neck was still warm.

You knew you needed to change strategies. Jumping and trying to grab the poster clearly wasn’t working, so it was time to do what you did best: turn the tables in your favor.

Straightening your posture, you took a step closer to him, closing the distance until you were almost invading his space. Your gaze deliberately moved from his eyes to the poster, then back to him, your lips curling into a slow, deliberate smile.

"Okay, you won," you said softly, your voice dropping to a low, almost melodic tone. "But, if we’re talking about kisses..."

Before he could process what was happening, you placed your hands on his torso—heat and firmness under the thin fabric of his T-shirt—and took another step closer. Your fingers lazily running along his sides.

"...maybe you want one too?"

You saw the instant transformation in him. The confident smile faltered, his eyes widened slightly behind his glasses, and color rose on his cheeks with almost comical speed.

"W-what?" he stammered, his voice faltering like someone had pressed the wrong key.

You seized the advantage, tilting your head slightly as if considering the idea seriously. "You heard me. Just tell me, Dave. I’m generous like that."

The poster started to drop—finally—but by this point, you didn’t even care about it anymore. All that mattered was the growing heat between you, the way his eyes couldn’t decide whether to look at yours or your lips, and the way his breath had become slightly irregular.

"I... I mean..." he tried, but the words tangled in an adorable way.

"Dave," you interrupted, your voice a little firmer, but with a hint of tenderness.

"Hm?"

"I don’t want the poster," you admitted, letting your hands slide a little higher up his chest. "I just want you."

The silence that followed was thick, but in a way that made the air feel electrified. He finally let go of the poster, letting it fall to the floor carelessly, while his arms came around your waist, pulling you gently closer.

"You don’t play fair," he murmured, his voice husky, but with that mischievous smile still present.

"I know," you replied, leaning in his direction until your lips finally met.

The kiss was slow but full of intention, a mix of quiet laughs and a passion that seemed to overflow with every touch. It was a little clumsy, as always, but that only made you fall for him more.

When you finally pulled apart, he was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes sparkling in a way that made everything around you feel lighter.

"You won this time," he said, with a theatrical sigh.

"I always win," you retorted, giving his chest a little push before turning to grab the forgotten poster.

But as you crouched down to pick it up, he spoke again:

"Just so it’s recorded... I definitely wouldn’t mind being defeated like that more often."

And in that moment, as you laughed and tried to look indifferent, all you could think about was how Dave Lizewski was your favorite victory.

[screaminglygay]

Burning match

pairings: kate bishop x fem!reader

summary: shutting off your feeling is not the best idea, but talking about them hurts too much.

warnings: swearing, character gets badly hurt, mentions of injuries, men, reader being stubborn, some angst with happy ending:)

word count: 5.5k

an: this one is little longer, but i didnt feel like cutting it in halfway, hehe, hope you´ll like it!:)

part one | part two

!MDNI!

"Come on, try again." Natasha says as she hold the lap for you to hit it.

The past few weeks, you´ve been trying to keep yourself busy. Small missions. Paper work. Training with Natasha. Spending time with MJ and Peter in Queens. Everything to keep Kate away. Everyone realized that something is wrong, that´s the main reason, why Fury didn´t give you a long or a hard missions. He couldn´t risk you being reckless, but he also didn´t want to keep you out of the game.

"I´m trying!" You yell as you hit the boxing paw, but you didn´t cover your face, so Natasha hits you back.

"Your mind is somewhere else. I need you to be here with me." The redhead put her hand back up, for you to try again. "If we would be on the field, you´d be dead by now." She states, hoping it will motivate you, but it did the exact opossite.

"That would be great, actually." You try to hit her paw, but she put her hands down.

"(Y/N)…" Natasha looks at you and takes off the paws.

"What are you doing?" You are supposed to train for another fifty minutes.

"We´re having a break. Sit down." You sit down, taking off your gloves. "Are you gonna talk to me, or just pretend like everything is great?" Natasha sits down as well.

You shrug. "It's complicated, Nat. I don't even know where to start."

"Start at the beginning. I'm here to listen." She looks at you.

"It's about feelings. Complicated feelings," you admit, fidgeting with the edge of your gloves.

"Remember when I used to have a crush on Wanda? Well, it turns out those feelings are just exchanged with a different feelings.. with different someone…"

Natasha nods, her expression encouraging you to continue.

"It´s Kate," you continue, the weight of the unspoken emotions settling between you. "I never expected to feel this way again, but it's there. And I can't face her. I can't face anyone, really."

Natasha's eyes reflect empathy as she absorbs your words. "Feelings are messy, (Y/N), but running from them won't make them disappear. You've got to confront them, understand them, and then decide what to do next."

You look down at your hands, the moment feeling like a barrier between you and the vulnerability of your emotions. "I already decided, I don´t want to confront them at all. It´s just… overwhelming."

Natasha reaches over, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You don't have to figure it all out at once. Take it one step at a time. Talk to Kate. See where it goes. And remember, I'm here for you, no matter what. And like with Wanda it either will go away or you will figure it out."

You sigh. "It was different with Wanda. In many ways. I don´t think it will be the same. They are both totally different people." You say as you think about that time of your life.

"What was different? Having a bro code with Pietro?" Natasha asks, without missing a beat and that makes you smile and roll your eyes.

The door swings open, your gaze lifts, only to meet the eyes of the archer you've been succesfully avoiding. Instantly, your posture tenses, a reflexive response to the presence.

Kate walks in, but stops as she notices you´re with Natasha, "can I have a minute with (Y/N)?"

Natasha looks at you and you just nod. Which makes Natasha stand up and leave the room.

"So…" Kate starst, but she is actually not really sure how to start at all.

"So…" You look at her and she sits down next to you."You had a sparing session with Natasha?" Kate asks, looking at the gloves on the ground.

"Um- yeah, yeah, I had." You nod as well as Kate.

The room holds an unspoken tension. Kate breaks the silence with a question that cuts through the charged atmosphere.

"Am I too annoying?" Kate's gaze is probing, searching for confirmation in your eyes.

Your response is quick, "What? No! Of course not!"

Kate interrupts, her tone cutting, "You've been off. So what's your problem?"

"I don´t have a problem." You shrug.

"You don´t? Well even Mike thinks you´re kinda off…" Kate states.

A scoff escapes your lips involuntarily, and you mutter mockingly, "oh Mike thinks that.."

The archer looks at you and raise her eyebrow, "what´s that supposed to mean?"

"Forget it, nothing." You look away, already feeling like you gonna explode.

"Say it." You can feel that the atmosphere didn´t clear out at all.

"No, it´s nothing important." You look back at her.

"(Y/N), say it!" Kate is on the verge of exploding too, you can feel it and even see it.

"Okay, fine! Your boyfriend, he´s a dick." Okay, that slipped out. Shit, that shouldn´t have slipped out.

Oh god.

You succesfully shocked the archer, she is completly stunned. "What's your problem with Mike?" Kate's voice rises, defensive and confrontational.

"It's this something about him." you take a deep breath, the tension escalating. "You deserve better." There it is, you finally said it. Maybe a little differently then you wanted, but you did.

The declaration becomes a spark igniting an unexpected blaze. Kate's eyes narrow, a mixture of frustration and anger surfacing. "You don't know him like I do. You don't get to judge my choices. Who do you think you are to say these things?!"

The argument escalates, a collision of conflicting emotions, and before you know it, the room becomes a battleground once again. Before you could find your words, trying to save it, she speaks once again.

"I don't need this. I thought we could talk, but clearly, I was wrong."

And with that, Kate storms out, leaving you alone in the sparring room, the echoes of the confrontation lingering in the air like a haunting melody.

Fuck.

...

After the heated confrontation with Kate, the sparring room feels like a vacuum, the lingering echoes of the argument still resonating in the air. Hours pass, marked by the ticking clock and the persistent sound of rain against the windows. Eventually, you decide to venture back to the living room, a sense of emptiness accompanying each step.

As you enter the living room, you open the fridge in hopes that you will find a fresh icy cold water bottle. Finally you have a little luck in your life and there it is. As you take few sips from it you speak out. "Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y., have you seen Kate around?" you inquire, your voice betraying a hint of sadness.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. responds with a measured tone, "Miss Bishop is currently on a mission with Mr. Rogers and Miss Belova. They left a forty minutes ago."

A pang of regret tightens your chest. The opportunity to apologize and mend things with Kate slips through your fingers, replaced by a sense of longing and missed chances.

"Alright, thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.," you mutter, retreating to a corner of the living room. The rain outside matches the melancholy mood within, creating a backdrop for the emotional storm you find yourself caught in.

...

You find solace in the embrace of your bed, its comfort offering a temporary refuge from the emotional turmoil that swirls within. The room, dimly lit by the glow of the bedside lamp, becomes a sanctuary where you can confront the tangled web of feelings.

Wrapped in the warmth of blankets, you replay the events in your mind, analyzing each word and gesture. Regret sticks with you, and the longing to bridge the gap between you and Kate grows with each passing moment. The desire to apologize, to untangle the knots of misunderstanding, becomes a persistent ache that refuses to dissipate.

But was it a misunderstanding? Or just something you held in yourself for a really long time?

As the rain continues its rhythmic dance against the window, time seems to stretch, each moment weighed down by the emotional heaviness. The glow of the bedside clock ticks away, a constant reminder of the day slipping through your fingers.

Messages from MJ and Peter light up your phone, concerned inquiries that you choose to ignore for now. You will answer them later. Maybe.

The dim glow of the bedside clock casts a faint light in the room as your phone incessantly lights up with notifications. Ignoring it initially, you think it´s MJ or Peter again. However, the persistent buzzing becomes too insistent to ignore, pulling you back to the harsh reality beyond the cocoon of your thoughts.

A new notification pops up, catching your attention. It's from Yelena, and the message sends a shiver down your spine. "Kate got into an accident. We're at the hospital."

The words hang in the air, a chilling realization that transcends the emotional turmoil you've been grappling with. The cocoon of solitude suddenly feels fragile, the threads unraveling in the face of an unforeseen crisis.

Before you can fully process the gravity of the situation, your phone vibrates with an incoming call from Natasha. With a sense of foreboding, you answer, your voice catching in your throat.

"(Y/N), it's about Kate. There's been an accident," Natasha's voice is steady but laced with an underlying tension. "They're at the St.Nicholas. Steve said it's serious. You need to come, but please drive carefuly." Natasha´s voice cracks and that makes your stomach drops even lower.

Without a second thought, you spring into action, a surge of adrenaline propelling you out of the room and into the stormy night. The rain outside mirrors the tempest within as you navigate the path to the hospital, the glow of your phone lighting the way with messages that now hold a newfound urgency.

The rain-drenched streets blur as you rush towards the hospital, heart pounding in your chest. The vivid lights of the emergency room entrance greet you as you finally arrive, breathless and soaked. Your gaze scans the room, finding Natasha, Steve, and Yelena huddled together, their faces etched with worry.

Ignoring the pull of exhaustion, you hurry towards them, relief and anxiety warring within you. Natasha, noticing your arrival, steps forward, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and understanding.

"(Y/N), she's stable now," Natasha says softly, her hand resting reassuringly on yours as she stops you from coming into the room. "But they won't let us visit her just yet."

A mix of emotions floods over you – relief that Kate is stable, yet a lingering unease at the unknown extent of her injuries. The hospital's sterile ambiance amplifies the tension in the air as Steve steps forward, his usually stoic expression betraying a deep concern.

"There was a room filled with explosive material, and it detonated while she was near it," Steve explains, the weight of the situation evident in his voice. "She's lucky to be alive."

As Steve explains, you feel a knot tighten in your stomach. The image of Kate, caught in the blast, flashes in your mind. The once trivial disagreements now seem insignificant, overshadowed by the reality of Kate's perilous situation.

Yelena remains silent, her eyes revealing the worry she can't put into words. The waiting room becomes a space suspended in time, a limbo between the fear of the unknown and the hope for Kate's recovery.

For now, the only option is to wait – to wait for news, for permission to visit Kate, and, above all, for a sign that she will pull through.

...

Time seems to stretch as the group anxiously awaits news about Kate. The sterile waiting room is filled with hushed conversations and the rhythmic beeping of medical equipment. The air is thick with anticipation until finally, a doctor emerges, breaking the tense silence.

"Miss Bishop is stable. She's going to be okay," the doctor announces, a collective sigh of relief escaping from those gathered. "However, she needs time to recover. The explosion caused many injuries, and she's currently sleeping."

Steve, Yelena, and Natasha exchange grateful glances, and a sense of gratitude washes over them. The doctor continues, "You can visit her. We'll keep you updated on her progress."

As the trio heads toward Kate's room, you hesitate. The relief is palpable, but an overwhelming desire to be close to Kate prevails. Determined, you follow them into the room.

Kate lies peacefully on the hospital bed, surrounded by the sterile white walls. Machines softly hum, monitoring her vital signs. You can hear Yelena talk in russian, which you don´t understand at all.

Natasha places a gentle hand on Yelena´s shoulder, exchanging a few quiet words with her and Steve before leading them out, leaving you alone with your friend.

The room is dimly lit, the soft glow of monitors casting a gentle light on Kate's sleeping form. The exhaustion from the events of the day catches up with you, but an unwavering need to be there for Kate keeps you by her side.

You pull a chair close to the bed, taking Kate's hand in yours. The rhythmic beeping of the machines becomes a soothing backdrop as you sit there, unmoving, lost in the quiet vigil.

"I´m really sorry, Katie." You whisper, so much regret in those words. Hours pass, marked by the steady rise and fall of Kate's chest. Your mind is a tempest of emotions – relief, worry, gratitude. The ordeal has left you physically and emotionally drained. The chair feels uncomfortable, but you can't bring yourself to leave Kate's side.

As the night wears on, fatigue sets in. The hospital room becomes your bedroom now, interrupted only by the soft sounds of medical equipment. Unable to resist the heaviness of your eyelids, you lean against the chair and finally fall asleep too.

...

Morning light filters through the hospital room's window, casting a soft glow on the still figure of Kate. The rhythmic sounds of medical equipment persist, a constant reminder of the fragile balance between recovery and the unknown. You wake up, the stiffness in your muscles a testament to the night spent in the uncomfortable chair.

The door creaks open, and Natasha enters, holding a small tray with a cup of water and a plate of food. Her eyes, though tired, hold a reassuring warmth.

"Hey," Natasha says softly, offering a small smile. "I thought you might need this."

Tears well up in your eyes as you take in the caring gesture. "Thanks, Nat."

Natasha places the tray on the table and pulls a chair closer. "How are you holding up?"

You shrug and glance at Kate, her peaceful slumber giving you a momentary respite. "The last time we talked, we had a fight," you confess, your voice choked with emotion.

Natasha leans forward, a comforting presence. "(Y/N), these things happen, especially in our line of work. What's important now is that she's going to be okay."

"I was too blind to let her be happy," you admit, the weight of regret settling in. "I should have never said anything."

Natasha reaches out, squeezing your hand gently. "You care about her, and that's what matters. The rest can be worked out later." She encourages you to eat and drink, a gentle reminder of the need to take care of yourself. The food feels tasteless, but with Natasha's support, each bite becomes a small triumph.

"Kate is strong, and she's going to pull through. You being here for her matters more than you realize," Natasha reassures, offering a comforting presence in the quiet hospital room.

Her words are stuck in your head. You are here. You are. Where is Mike?

"He's still not here, hasn't even bothered to check in," you mutter to Natasha, a sense of frustration coloring your tone.

Natasha furrows her brow, sensing the underlying tension. "Mike? Maybe he's just dealing with things in his own way."

"So if you had the love of your life in a hospital you wouldn´t care to find them?" You are once again getting angry, even though you are strongly agaisnt the man, maybe you are overreacting. Or maybe you are right the whole time. Thoughts are running in and out of your head. Too much things at the moment.

"(Y/N), people react differently in situations like these. Give him some time."

But the silence from Mike speaks louder than any explanation Natasha could offer. The realization stirs a mix of emotions — frustration, disappointment, and a strange sense of feeling you couldn´t name yet.

Natasha leaves the hospital room, offering a reassuring smile as she heads to the cafeteria to check up on Steve and Yelena. The door closes behind her, leaving you alone with your thoughts and sleeping Kate.

After some time, Natasha returns with Yelena, her expression serious. "Steve's heading back to the compound to take care of some calls and paperwork. He'll be back soon," she informs you.

The hospital room feels both empty and crowded, a paradoxical mix of solitude and shared concern. Yelena, seated by the window, looks up as Natasha speaks. "We´ll stay here with you for a while," Nat offers.

Grateful for the company, you nod, and Natasha takes a seat in the corner, while Yelena sits by Kate's bedside. The atmosphere in the room becomes more subdued, the weight of the events settling in.

After a little bit you step out to get some fresh air, a knot of tension lingers. The hallway outside is quiet, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. As you turn to the bathrooms, you notice someone standing a little way down the corridor — Mike, Kate's boyfriend.

His presence catches you off guard, and a mixture of emotions surges within. The frustration from the previous thoughts intensifies, and a sense of unease accompanies the realization that he's here, yet the silence persists.

Mike looks up from his phone, noticing you. His expression is a mix of surprise and discomfort. The air between you is thick with unspoken words and unresolved tensions. It's a moment frozen in time, the hospital hallway becoming a silent arena for a confrontation that has been brewing beneath the surface.

Yelena and Natasha remain inside the room, unaware of the encounter in the hallway. The decision of whether to address the situation or let it linger hangs in the air, and as you lock eyes with Mike. You know Kate would not want you to go up to him and start a fight, but you can´t help it.

The air in the hospital hallway thickens as you approach Mike, who seems taken aback by your presence. A mix of frustration and anger simmers beneath the surface, waiting to erupt.

"It took you a while to finally arrive," you say, the words laced with a mixture of scoff and irritation.

Mike doesn't respond with an apology or explanation. Instead, he meets your challenging gaze and, with a dismissive tone, retorts, "Why do you care?"

The confrontation escalates, each word becoming a verbal jab as the tension between you intensifies. Mike, rather than showing concern for Kate or acknowledging the gravity of the situation, responds with rudeness and indifference.

"Why do I care?!" There it is, the sharp exchange of words. "If she was my girlfriend, I would call, text—I would run into every hospital, until I would find her!" you shout, your frustration boiling over. But Mike remains unmoved, his calm demeanor only fueling the fire.

"But she's not," he speaks with an unsettling calmness.

The words hang in the air, a harsh reality that slaps you in the face. "What?" you stammer, caught off guard by the bluntness of his statement.

"You've said it yourself, if. She is not your girlfriend," Mike replies, his words cutting through the emotional turmoil like a knife.

The realization hits hard, the vulnerability beneath your anger exposed. The hurt, disappointment, and frustration converge into a surge of raw emotion.

Natasha, hearing the escalating confrontation, steps in, grabbing your hand to stop you from saying or doing anything impulsive. "You won't help her by this, (Y/N)," she says calmly, her grip a grounding force amid the tempest of emotions.

The hospital hallway becomes a silent witness to the tangled threads of relationships, the fractures laid bare in the harsh light of truth. As Natasha intervenes, you take a deep breath, grappling with the storm of emotions within. The focus shifts from the confrontation to the shared concern for Kate's well-being, a reminder that in the face of adversity, unity is more crucial than discord.

Natasha makes you take a few deep breaths, trying to diffuse the tension. Frustration still simmers within you, and you can't shake off the urge to do something impulsive. Your words to Natasha echo your volatile emotions.

"He's being an arrogant idiot," you mutter to Natasha, your anger palpable. "I swear, if I didn't care about Kate, I'd punch him."

Mike, unfazed, wears an arrogant smile as if reveling in the chaos he has incited. The atmosphere in the hospital corridor remains charged, the unspoken conflict simmering beneath the surface. With a frustrated scoff you finally manage to go to the bathroom, to freshen up a little bit, or at least calm the anger burning inside you.

In the midst of the tension, a weak voice cuts through the air. Kate stirs in her hospital bed, her gaze flickering around the room as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. Her eyes land on Yelena, who is engrossed in a magazine.

"What the hell was that?" Kate asks, her voice a mix of confusion and concern.

"Kate! You´re awake! Oh and that? (Y/N)." Yelena puts the magazine down.

"Is she okay?" Kate asks without a beat.

Yelena hesitates for a moment, choosing her words carefully. "She's… okay."

The ambiguity in Yelena's response doesn't escape Kate's notice. "Whats that supposed to mean?" Kate´s voice still very raspy from just waking up.

"Well curently she´s cursing at your boy for being a dick." The blonde chuckles, as she´s rooting for your win.

"She is?" Kate's eyes widen with a mix of surprise and concern.

"Yeah… I heard Natasha step in, too sad I wanted to see (Y/N) throw some fists, she could take him.." Yelena looks at Kate, "what? I´m just stating the facts."

Kate tries to sit up and leave the bed, but Yelena immedietly notices and tries to keep her in bed. "No, Kate, stay." But that doesn´t stop the injured archer.

Ignoring Yelena's attempts to keep her in bed, Kate go out the room, trying to piece together the events that led her here until her gaze finally lands on Natasha, a silent guardian in the midst of the unfolding drama. Mike´s back is facing Kate as she somehow walked out of her hospital room.

"You all are crazy, who do you think you guys are? Mighty heroes?" He laughs "At least Kate will realize how useless her bow and arrow is…"

"Mike…" Natasha tries as she meets Kate´s blue eyes. Her posture softens a little bit with relief as she notices that Kate is awake.

"If her dad was around maybe she would get some sences knocked into her, this is ridicilous. Pretending to be a hero." Kate barerly stands there, she hopes this is just a big hallucination from the pills they gave her. "And who is your inspiration, hm? A- a- hooker mixed with Lara Croft?"

Natasha steps forward with a slight smile on her face, "If I was you, I would choose your words more wisely."

"What did you just said?" Kate jumps in with a question, her voice cracking up a little bit.

Mike turns around, completly shifting his body language, "oh babe! You are awake!" He rushes to her side but Yelena is quick to walk out of the room and push him away.

"Возьми ее за руки, и я сломаю тебе все кости в твоем чертовом теле." Yelena is really ready to strike.

(translation: Get your fucking hands on her and I´ll break all of your bones in your god damn body.)

"Leave me alone, she is my girlfriend!" The guy states. "Mine, understand?!" He tries to fight off the Widow, but if anything it was more of a sad try on his side.

The dismissive tone and lack of accountability in Mike's words infuriate Kate. Her face contorts with anger as she delivers a stern message. "You need to leave, Mike. I don't want to see you."

"Babe-" Mike's another attempt at a protest is met with a stern gaze from Kate, cutting him off. "Go home, Mike. I need some space."

"It´s because of your freak friend, right? That poor (Y/N)…" He somehow gets Yelena´s hands off of him and adjust his jacket.

Kate's eyes narrow at the mention of your name, and a wave of frustration washes over her. "Go."

Before Mike can respond Natasha is leading him out of the sight, while Yelena helps Kate back to her bed.

Kate nods, a mix of gratitude and relief in her eyes. "Thanks, guys. Now, can someone fill me in on everything that happened?"

As Yelena explains everything from the mission to this moment, Natasha, with her keen sense of observation, follows the emotional trail to find you in the bathroom. The tension and frustration from the earlier confrontation still linger, and she approaches you with a steady but understanding gaze.

"Kate is awake," Natasha announces, her words breaking through the quiet reflection in the bathroom.

The news propels you into action. Without a second thought, you practically sprint back to the hospital room where Kate is, your heart racing with a mix of anxienty and relief.

With Yelena and Natasha giving you some privacy, the atmosphere in the hospital room becomes more intimate. Kate looks at you with a mixture of gratitude and curiosity, and you can sense the unspoken questions lingering in the air.

"You really went to fight for me out there," Kate says, breaking the silence. Her voice is soft, filled with appreciation.

You give her a small smile. "Of course, Kate. He´s such an- anytime."

Kate chuckles at your words, "I appreciate it. More than you know." You find yourself sit next to her side once again. "I just couldn't stand by and let him hurt you. You mean a lot to me."

Kate's expression softens, and she reaches out to take your hand. "You mean a lot to me too. I didn't expect anyone to stand up for me like that."

"Well, get used to it," you say with a playful grin. "I've got your back. And now more than ever, miss walking into a room with explossives." You playfully tease her.

Kate just laughs, even though it hurts her a little bit.

"So, what did you do in the hallway, before Nat stepped in?"

You can't help but chuckle, the tension dissipating. "Oh nothing, just me telling off to your not-so-charming boyfriend."

Kate raises an eyebrow wanting to say something totally different then the thing she left out. "Hm, alright then."

"You should get some rest," you smile as you put the blanket over her. "I´m fine, actually I don´t feel much pain." Kate says as she visible fights off the sleepiness.

"That´s because you´re high, Bishop." You chuckle.

"Hm… interesting, I didn´t though about it." She opens her eyes. "You´re so high."

"Yup. Probably, I mean… this stuff is good. It got the kick." She smiles as she shifts a little bit in her bed and she finally drift off.

...

As the days pass, you continue to be by Kate's side, offering support and companionship during her recovery in the hospital. Your presence becomes a source of comfort, and together, you navigate the challenges of rehabilitation. Feeling like you two are even closer than before, feeling so good around her as she does. You feel complete again.

Not a signle thought about Mike in yours or Kate´s head.

Finally, the day arrives when Kate is well enough to leave the hospital. You assist her in the wheelchair, wheeling her out of the hospital room and through the corridors. As you approach the compound, the familiar faces of the Avengers greet both of you with smiles and cheers. They've organized a "Welcome Back" party for Kate, a celebration of her recovery and return.

With the wheelchair parked in the midst of the festive atmosphere, Kate insists, "I can handle the wheelchair on my own, you know." You respond with a playful grin, "I like to push you around."

The words carry a lighthearted warmth, an acknowledgment of the bond that has grown stronger during these trying times. Kate chuckles, appreciating the sentiment behind your words.

Throughout the party, you continue to take care of Kate, ensuring she's comfortable and included in the festivities. The Avengers express their relief and happiness at seeing Kate back on her feet, and the atmosphere is one of shared joy and camaraderie.

As the night progresses, the two of you find a quiet corner to sit and talk. The glow of the party surrounds you, but in that moment, it's the connection between you and Kate that shines the brightest.

"You've been a real friend through all of this," Kate says, sincerity in her eyes.

"I just wanted to be here for you," you reply, a soft smile on your face. After a little you look back at her. "I had this crazy idea. Do you trust me, Bishop?" you ask, a playful smile on your face.

Kate looks at you with a mix of curiosity and a hint of nervous anticipation. "Do I have a choice?" she replies, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Not really," you admit, your eyes dancing with excitement. "Fine, fine. I trust you." Kate nods.

"Okay, then get ready, because we´re going for a ride!" You say as you help her get back on the wheelchair. "It took me a little bit to figure it out, but I watched some youtube tutorials and I think it should work." You ramble to Kate, who still have zero idea what you´re talking about.

"Close your eyes, please,"you instruct, and Kate, now used to your playful antics, complies with a smirk.

As she close her eyes shut, you push the wheelchair, outside. Little cold breeze hitting the both of you. You push her infront of the homemade ramp, you made couple nights ago, thanks to some random guy on YouTube.

"Alright, open your eyes," you announce, stepping back to reveal your creation.

Kate opens her eyes, and her gaze shifts from you to the makeshift ramp. A mixture of surprise and excitement lights up her face. "What's all this? You won´t push me off, right?" she asks, with a giggle.

"I thought we could use a change of scenery," you say with a grin.

"And since our favorite place is the rooftop, I figured, why not bring it to you?" You smile, being really pround of what you´ve build. Deep down still hoping it won´t break as soon as Kate´s wheelchair will go on it.

"You built this?" Kate's eyes widen with appreciation as she takes in the effort you've put into creating a way for her to join you on the rooftop. You just nod at her question.

"This is amazing," Kate says, her voice filled with gratitude. "To the roof and beyond!" If this wouldn´t be Kate, you would find this quote use very cheesy, but since it´s Kate, you had to let out a chuckle.

With careful precision, you guide Kate up the improvised ramp, ensuring her safety as she rides to the rooftop. Once you both reach the top, a breathtaking view of the city awaits, and the sounds of the party below are replaced by the serene hum of the night.

Seated together on the rooftop, surrounded by the city lights, you and Kate share a moment of quiet companionship. The homemade ramp, a symbol of your dedication and the uniqueness of your connection, becomes a testament to the lengths you're willing to go to make each other happy.

As you sit side by side, overlooking the cityscape, Kate breaks the silence with a sincere look in her eyes. "I'm sorry about not listening to you."

You meet her gaze, the connection between you deepening. "I'm sorry about being right about your boy," you say with a playful laugh. Kate chuckles. "Well, I think it's good to burst out the bubble. He's not my boy anymore."

"What?" The shock in your voice is palpable.

"Yeah. I broke up with him, and he replied with a thumbs up and a 'You weren't even worth it.' So…"

"Oh my god, Kate, I'm so sorry-" You instinctively reach for her hand.

"No, you're not," she interrupts with a reassuring smile.

"Not about him, but… you don't deserve that. Who does he think he is? Oh my god, I'll tell him-" Now it's Kate's turn to take your hand. "Okay, Rambo, calm down," Kate teases. "I'm fine, really. And he´s the one not worth it."

"So he wasn´t the chosen one?" You tease.

"Oh that´t a low blow, (Y/L/N)" She roll her eyes, but laugh along with you.

As the night unfolds, the atmosphere between you two is not just warm; it's a comforting embrace that you don´t want ever lose again, even if it means being just friends with the archer.

Thank you for reading!!!

[only-omo]

characters who "dont wet".

and by that i mean characters who always have enough bladder control that even when they are past their limit and urine is slowly dribbling down their legs, thats all it ever is. no forceful wetting, no "loss of control", not completely. just leaking every few minutes until they can hold it again. sometimes big leaks that immediately give them away (or dont, but now they cant move without being caught so), throwing those around them into a panic; sometimes smaller leaks that are easier to hide in terms of damage, but so much harder in terms of the strain it puts on their bladder to only let out so little

and it really is something special, because it can get to a point where their pants are notably soaked to the hems, maybe even a small puddle or two depending on if theyve been walking around, and theyre still squirming like mad, or trying not to, because this is damage that happened over the course of nearly an hour or more.

eventually if theyre with people someones gonna ask why they dont just give up already, theyve already fully wet themselves in terms of damage, and doing it this way is really doing nothing but causing way more damage than necessary. because at this point even if they wanted to hide it still - i mean, it is horribly embarrasing to consistently wet yourself over the span of an hour (or more) i think - its painfully obvious every time they leak, their clothes too soaked to absorb it quick enough, unavoidably leading to small-to-incredibly-messy puddles each time.

whether theyre able to answer the person or just stutter and get out not much more than "i dont know", they cant bring themselves to intentionally stop holding, despite the risks, and the only way to fully empty their bladder not at a toilet would be to intentionally choose to wet. so they keep "holding".

from here it will go one of two ways, either they finally get access to a bathroom, where they will likely suffer latch-key incontinence and finally fully lose control on the way from the door to the toilet, likely not able to do anything but maybe sit down to try to minimize mess, otherwise just staring as urine re-soaks their pants and gathers on the floor underneath them (and its obvious they re-wet, so they cant pretend they made it, potentially leading to comments from someone about why they bothered so hard just to not make it anyway, to their utter embarrassment). or they dont find a bathroom, and theres nothing they can do but keep trying to hold it.

now i know from experience that around this point you really do start to feel sick, but its in an exhilaratingly horrible way. your body starts to fight itself to the point where it actually changes your thought pattern. and not in the typical "ohmygodohmygodineedtopee" type of way that some people arent susceptible to, but in a strange way where the most logical thing in existence at that moment is that they should not be holding their pee, regardless of location, as if societal standards didnt exist, as if it truly didnt matter where they peed or what they were wearing when they did it. the way their bladder is so confused it cant do much but dully ache, no longer sharp or threatening leaks, but still the most pressing thing on their mind.

their bladder will actually shut their brain down, reverting them to basic instinct, and theres a good chance at some point their bladder will contract, and the only thing they can physically do is not only just let it out, but actively push it out as hard as they can, and if they could think it would feel intentional, the way their muscles are locked forcefully contracting as if almost by choice, completely negating the previous struggle of eventually regaining control; but they arent thinking, and that choice is more "dont die" than it is "wet myself".

obviously, its messy. its messy and its sudden, as they likely started to go despondent as the sickly feeling hit. its sudden, and its messy, and its loud. theyre not only just wetting themself, but pushing as if the urine was burning their bladder, and they have to get it out (not too far from the truth). trying not only to get out every last drop, but to get out the last drop as soon as possible. and there isnt any relief until a good minute or so after they finish, so theyre wetting with that full force, as if their bladder were still full, the entire time - which is likely a good minute or two, as despite everything theyve lost until now, their bladder was still mostly full - until it suddenly cuts off. it will get everywhere, and itll have everyones attention, and then itll be silent, aside from the light pattering of stray urine that hasnt yet reached the floor.

the most common response would likely be speechlessness, people arent used to bladders that can cause that much of an issue, even incontinent people usually just wet and get it over with.

and the wetters brain will only kick back on after theyre empty, though still in an almost daze of all the sensations and emotions. theyve been sitting in their slowly growing shame for at least an hour at this point so the social repercussions arent really hitting them (though they definitely will as the adrenaline drops), and theyre mostly focused on the stressful feeling of knowing that this must be horribly unhealthy, to end up feeling that way, and to just be primarily aware of the fact that they just totally pissed themself; more than they are anything that means, aside from that theyre soaked.

[illyabata]

scars are A Thing™ with wriothesley and nobody can convince me otherwise, idc if there is zero mention of his scars or their meaning when he comes out idc it’s my permanent headcanon that scars and their stories are simply entangled with his character idc

so now i give you: wriothesley who is fascinated by your scars

tw: discussion of scars lol, but in no way do i indicate their origin unless it’s stretch marks. however if talk of scars at all is triggering to you, dont read!! it’s sweet fluffy stuff, but that doesn’t matter if it will trigger you. please take care :)

sfw, big brainrot under cut

theyre so much smaller than his, more delicate, just like you. doesnt matter if compared to other people you are big or tall, he’s such a big guy that he makes you feel small no matter your size or height. and no matter what your scars look like to you, to him they are beautiful. to him they are delicate.

he’s enamored by all of your scars no matter their origin—stretch marks, however, seem to intrigue him the most of all. he’s absolutely transfixed by them, and you can never understand why. he’s simply mesmerized by the way the blemished skin stretches as he thumbs and presses it, watching the discoloration flatten itself only to bloat back when he leaves it alone. for some reason he just seems so puzzled by the concept of natural scarring of the body; nothing had happened to harm you for these to appear—they’re simply the product of change, your skin either going through rapid periods of expanding or shrinking. he thinks they’re pretty.

he’d spend so long just running his rough fingers over your skin, absorbed in the feeling of the puckered tissue under his own blemished hands. whether the scars are stretch marks or from something else, he loves them, he loves you.

this might sound weird but i just like to imagine you both spend time gently tracing each others’ scars as comfort, like it sounds weird in words but it makes sense i promise. there is something intimate and fascinating about scars, no matter what they’re from; it’s truly like the language of your body’s history, a record of what has occurred. you can resent them or be proud of them, it really depends on the person and situation—but regardless, scars are always a record, and that is a constant no matter the person.

and if you’re not comfortable with that level of touch or that much attention on your scars, that is absolutely okay. he’s not going to make you uncomfortable, he’ll always ask if it’s okay before he looks at or touches them—or touches you at all, really. he never wants to hurt you. and if you say you’d rather he not touch your scars, he’ll understand and just show you he loves you—all of you—in some other way.

like idk about anyone else or if its just me and im fucking insane but sometimes i get lost looking at my own scars; sometimes the human body at work is just kind of fascinating to watch, and even more so in retrospect. it’s like holy fuck you’re looking at its handiwork, you can plainly see how the skin has been so masterfully rebuilt into this little woven bandaid of cells, carefully crafted to not only rebuild but protect. your body has looked after itself, and it will continue to do so. and thats just kind of a fascinating thing to me idk😭

some extra thoughts about scars, not really to do with wrio; red brackets will indicate the end of it if you want to skip: [[ it usually replaces any feeling of disgust i have because instead of focusing on the bad feeling of remembering where they came from or being sad at the way they look im able to think about how cool it is the way my body recovered and made my skin even stronger; it didnt just wipe it all away and give me a clean slate so i could forget, it pieced the cells together again bit by bit until it had not only replaced the wound but enforced it—so instead of forgetting the bad feelings, they were replaced by wonder. sort of like a sign that says “proof that where once there was pain, now there is strength”. it’s kind of like how they say you don’t just try to quit bad habits, you must replace the bad habit with a good one. you can replace the bad feelings associated with your scars with new feelings, whether they are good feelings or neutral feelings or meh feelings. ]]

before you, he understood scars to be an ugly thing—a source of shame, a show for others to marvel at if he left them uncovered, for them to ogle at and whisper about as if trying to guess the origin of the wounds was a sort of entertainment to them. and then in the fortress of meropide, his scars felt much less like a source of shame and more like an intimidation factor (which wasn’t something he necessarily felt good about, but it was something that he benefitted from as the duke). but when you came along and he began to know you, suddenly they were this beautiful, fascinating phenomenon that lead him to view his own scars in a different light.

he’s a powerful, strong man, yes. he’s intimidating and feared, but he is also loved, and all for good reason—he is solid and safe, an image of reliability to others. and sometimes it could weigh him down when he couldn’t seem to let another help carry the burden.

the way you made him feel, though, tracing his big ugly scars like they were rivers, like they weren’t repulsive—it changed him entirely, and it changed the way he saw himself. in the overworld, he was a criminal brute slathered in the proof of his savageness. in the fortress, he was the rock-solid standard for redemption, and he had to uphold his firm reputation. but with you, he was able to be fragile; with you, the walls he had built to protect himself from both sides of fontaine’s society came tumbling down, because he didn’t have to pretend when he was with you.

if such a small, sweet thing like you could see him in such a kind light with so much love in those eyes of yours, perhaps he was not so bad after all.

everyone else in all of teyvat could believe he was truly a bad guy like he sometimes enjoyed playing at—but it wouldn’t matter, because there you were in his bed every night, held fast in his big arms as you mindlessly traced the long, thin writings engraved in his skin, letting the stories they told lull you to sleep.

[talon-dragonbeast]

i havent seen this experience talked about much in the nonhuman community, so i thought i could share mine.

i wasnt actually dragonkin as a child, or at least i dont think so. its not that i didnt realise it either, or that i didnt know being human wasnt the only option there was; i was completely, 100% human. well, maybe not 100%– i'd say more like 90%. you see, i was human as a child; that i can be sure of. but i think the possibility of becoming nonhuman, the potential for nonhumanity was always there. im not sure if its because of atypical brain structure, autism/neurodivergency, or just personality– nature vs nurture, and all that.

the thing is, i was human. and now im not. so what happened?

well, i... don't know exactly. but i have a theory.

my brain always had that potential nonhumanity, yes, but if child me hadn't loved animals as much as i did, if i hadn't stayed in the library at recess every day, if i hadn't found a book on dragons and absorbed myself in what would become a long-term special interest, if i had more friends in school... the list goes on. basically, if things had been a little different, i might not even be nonhuman today. i would still be me, of course, but a different me. a human me.

so why am i sharing this? i always read about other critters' experiences with their nonhumanity, and ive noticed that a very common experience is being born nonhuman. on the other claw, there are critters that were human before, but then experienced something that made them become nonhuman. this is not to invalidate any of them, of course! but i had never heard of any experience that was between those two. and i realised that if i wanted to read experiences like mine, i had to write mine first! so, please, share yours! id love to read what you write, even if it's just a few sentences.

[fuck-customers]

Desert County Lob Jot person again. I just really have two customers that I had to get off my chest. First the Mattress Karen and then let me tell you about Moldy Spoon Lady.

This lady comes in constantly and tries to return things that she found laying around her house that she doesn't want anymore. Doesn't matter if it a) came from us b) was purchased in the last 30 days or even this year c) is damaged beyond saleability or d) is apparently covered in a thick, stinky layer of mold.

She walks up to the service desk and I've already had an issue with her where she told me not to ring up a box of cookies because she "forgot it yesterday so I already paid for it" and of course she had no receipt that time either. So got upset when I said unless I have proof of this like having management watch the security cameras, I have to charge her for it or she has to leave without it. Shocker: she didn't want the manager doing that.

So this time she has a reusable bag, and so I call out asking if she has a return. She says yes and ohmyGOD when she took her hand off the top rim of the bag and it starting opening...I almost had to run to the bathroom from the smell. It was beYOND foul. Inside the bag was a completely molded wooden cooking spoon. She thought all she had to say was "for some reason this spoon I got from you for $6.99 (I'm sorry...seven dollars for a spoon? In THIS place? Not possible) is completely covered in mold. I can't use it. I need to return it for $6.99". I immediately say we can't do that. I told her we can't take items that are not in resellable condition and she doesn't have the receipt or item tags, so I can't even look it up through her member card. I even tried and showed her my screen to demonstrate. I also informed her that wooden spoons shouldn't be left soaking in water in the sink because this is what happens. I didn't realize that wasn't common knowledge but I've been running into more and more people that didn't know wooden spoons are porous and absorb water still. So I just thought it was harmless advice in case she didn't know, but of course she was insulted.

"You know, I always have problems with you and I've NEVER had problems with anyone here" (she had problems with everyone here)

I tried to just say sorry but I can't take a spoon without proof it's even ours.

"You know, you're bad at your job. EVERYONE says your bad at your job."

Idk what possessed me but I gave a short laugh and said "no they didnt"

"Yes they did!!!" God, what are you, a toddler?

I knew she'd take it more seriously from a manager, so I call an assistant manager over the intercom.

"What if I find the spoon and come up with the bar code?"

I shrug and say "sure go do that". She walks off and when the assistant manager gets up to the desk I tell her the situation and she laughs when she hears who the customer is. She is a regular and a massive pain in the ass. Certifiable. She's been a problem here for a long time apparently and everyone dreads when they see her come in the door.

Moldy walks back up and not only does she have a sort of similar wooden spoon in one hand, she has a 10 pack of wooden spoons in the other. The single is $1.99, the pack was $5.99.

"I can take this $5.99 pack as an exchange for it and then you just give me the dollar back." She was ALREADY putting the pack in her fucking bag. I grabbed it before it could touch the moldy one still in the bag and said nope, she can't have those because we have no proof the original spoon cost $6.99. We definitely wouldn't price it that high.

I and the assistant manager both had the thought to say just take the $1.99 spoon this time but that if she doesn't have a receipt and it's damaged, we can't do anything next time.

Why does this particular chain have the most braindead, absolute lunatics for customers? I've been in retail for 15 years and have never seen people pull the things I've seen here. It's incredible what customers try to get away with here. And it's a BARGAIN OUTLET. We are literally cheaper than anything else around and people still try to get cheaper?

And if they can't get it cheap, they steal it. Whatever. The only theft that bothers me is when people open up food and eat a couple things out of it and put it back on the shelf. Because then that means I have to throw that food out. The amount of food items I constantly have to throw away because people opened them up or take a few bits out of it makes me so angry. Seen as how I've been overdrafting the past couple months I get that everyone is beyond poor now, but jfc do you have to make another poor person deal with your shit? I can't wait to be out of here. Besides the customers having soup for brains here, the past couple days have shown me the underbelly of the management side of things and I don't like it. Definitely won't be coming back.

Posted by admin Rodney

[alroma1]

Some Uncanny thoughts

Some thoughts about this issue but more like about this run so far.

One thing I am sorry to say about this issue is that its clearly shows that Marquez needs a break. Art is good in Rogue scenes but battle scenes feel like half done. Mangakas usually corrects things for volume release so I wonder is this is possible for american comics

1. So first thing first. Simone did tell on twitter that the most controversial page from this issue is going to be two women talking in office and she didnt lie. I have fall out of comics for some time so I dont remember exact timeline but if Rogue used to live in NYC for some time maybe she just didnt want to sound like country bumpkin. Thats usually main reasons people try get rid of accents. Maybe she wanted to do something more public. At the end scene mixes with reality but it makes me question if Harvey powers actually messed up whole scene and its not really how it was. The quote used in the scene if from 9th sonnet of Shakespeare.

2. Jubilee comment how Jitter and Deathdream had each other backs and it was implied before. Could be something behind that closeness. Like they are yin\yang variation.

3. Sarah singled out Calico pretty fast. I think its too early to let go of idea that girl somehow related to Sarah or Xavier,

4. Zero surprise about Sarah. Something was clearly off with her story. She might be a mutant but her story feel more mystical than sci-fyish. People pointed about Llorona but it reminded me of slavs version of mermaids - rusalka-s, In versions I read they were either girls who drowned themselves or dead unbaptised babies. Sarah kinda fits both since she said she was pagan. If she didnt lie that is.

5. Remy Lebeau gathers death flags faster than mushrooms grows after the rain. But its all so right in your face that to me it looks like misdirection.

6. People say Harvey having healing powers is way too convenient and they are right. But its feel like a reason for this is pretty clear. Simone didnt want Rogue to take Logan healing factor. After battle too. Because something going to happen when she probably do it eventually. There are two things I can think of and I suspect both are true

a)If she absorbs Logan his thoughts would flow right in her mind and she going to have some kind of discovery. If you wonder what kind of... well let me get you a few hints or what I think it is. In 3 issue during kitchen talk there was what I suspect very feeble reference to very conflicting arc in x-men history. Also unlikely old Louisiana manor has sound isolation.

7. Also b) I really suspects Logan has R-lds. And by the time he met with Rogue and Remy in first issue he practically went blind. His eyes still havent regenerated at the start of issue and even though it happened somewhere during the fight at the end he stll wears blindfold. Like theres no difference. Might be the reason for moonbeam nickname. Thats literally how he sees Rogue now. Simone did write though that he called another X-lady like that in the past and I wonder who it was.

So if Rogue absorbs him now would she also get R-lds? I dont remember her and Remy being resurrected during Krakoa but I might be wrong.

[user2718273]

Terrorheads r always dunking on goodsir for the moral absolutism & then having absolutely no nuance in their own conceptions of good & evil. Like when goodsir finally snaps & poisons the mutineers ppl are like "oh see hes a bad person cus he couldnt forgive them cus he only thinks in black & white!!!!" but like bro. If somebody kidnapped u and forced u to carve up your coworkers' bodies for consumption u would not feel too friendly toward them i think. Or just how ppl talk abt goodsir in general. Like yeah he believes in colonizer shit, he was raised by colonizers. Every1 on the ships believes in colonizer shit i fear. But he gets more shit abt it than anyone else bc theres this weird conception that its worse to try and do good and get it wrong than to just straight up act out of vanity or greed. Not that goodsir should be absolved of anything, but its weird how ppl have so little empathy for characters whose desire to do good is tainted by ideological conditioning. Like bro i hate to break it to u. We all have ideological conditioning. If u act like thats some inherent moral flaw and not the inevitable product of living in a society and absorbing that society's beliefs, u will have a very hard time recognizing it outside of tv shows where people are just characters.

Also theres a difference between having no empathy for franklins men bc ur pissed at them and having no empathy out of principle. I feel like theres some recognition of personhood that comes w putting someone on the receiving end of a human emotion like anger, whereas if ur just like "logically i know colonizer bad, so empathy for colonizer = bad," ur putting them on a subhuman level out of the reach of emotion. U dont feel anger or empathy for them. U never find out what u feel toward them bc without accepting the possibility that u might reach muddy, nuanced, morally frustrating conclusions, theres no wiggle room to feel what u feel. But then u never get to feel the anger either. U cant understand things from either side bc once u start trying to sort everything into concrete moral categories, then ur not understanding individuals, ur defining variables, and everything becomes theoretical. I feel like thats part of the reason why when ppl put the expedition on the level of the subhuman, they often elevate the netsilik to the superhuman. Like ppl have a weirdly hard time conceptualizing that silna has complex motivations & is capable of developing complex relationships w other characters? Theyre just like "oh wow shes being so nice to goodsir, she must have stockholm syndrome or be wayyy too forgiving." Cus if u imagine franklins men as having one pure and self-contained nature that opposes the pure and self-contained nature of the netsilik, then theres no way they can genuinely interact. They can only touch each other under the guise of something else. Silna must not adequately understand goodsir's role in the fuckery ripping up her world. Which is ridonkulous to me bc her first interaction w him was when his party shot her father & then goodsir prevented him from dying on the ice. Like. She is not under any illusions that this man isnt part of the hurt and destruction. She just finds a way to care abt him anyway. Not bc she's some fountain of forgiveness, but bc despite the things she must hate about him, there are also things she loves. Same w crozier. Idk if she feels affection for him in the same way she does goodsir, but she def doesnt just save him bc shes a saint. She feels anger and bitterness just like any other person, and if she wanted to, she couldve left crozier to die like des voeux. Personally i think she saved him bc he was the only one left who had seen what she'd seen and she didnt wanna have to bear it alone but idk. She had her reasons. Anyway goodsir is literally a butch buttom so the wokes cant even get her. #She positionality on my moral puritanism til i absolve

[paingoes]

cute delta things i didn’t get to focus on as much as i wanted

ie my underrated facts and as of yet unused whump ideas :)

-he literally faints all the time when using his powers and needs to be carried back out. mostly by simon. sometimes by paris :)

-martino has med students!!! they pop in sometimes i never really acknowledged them directly tho. theyre older than delta but not by that much. he is basically a case study to them but some of them do try ti get close and immediately get demoted/reassigned because of “inappropriate attachment”

-i had this idea for martino taking delta to a medical conference. delta having to be on display/used for tests w really green and overexcited students. extremely awkward stay at the conference hotel. delta is probably high for a lot of it tbh.

-also. delta is on a ton of medications to keep his powers elevated. he is only vaguely aware of this. its actually kinda considered doping in universe so most people are NOT aware of this!!!!

-simon and martino fighting more. i like the idea of simon being gentle w delta and martino going out of his way to try and counteract it and dehumanize him again to preserve his conditioning

-simon and paris talks. simon is way too much of a pussy to confront paris head on and i think they generally get along fine? becuz simon is a bystander. also paris pretends not to remember either of the handlers names even though he definitely knows them.

-delta is totally starved for affection but he would not accept it from just anyone i think hes actually kinda picky about it bizarrely enough. hes v distrusting and when his internet friends tried to be nice to him his response was invariably “just fuck off”…. and he actually likes them he just gets mad anyway cause he cant handle it 😭

-delta and paris kinda just hang out sometimes LOL…. paris always (correctly!) feels like hes in an adversarial environment whenever he has to go anywhere for work and delta is usually the only person there he trusts so if theyre not doing anything else its just gossip time.

-incidentally ^ delta was really deliberately not taught anything about history or politics or ethics at the institute because they didnt want him getting ideas but paris is heavy into that stuff and complains about it so much that delta just picks up on it. he absorbs info like a sponge its why he was such a good whistleblower.

-to me this is obvious but paris’s chillness-over-time graph is a bellcurve. like he is AWFUL at the beginning and awful at the end but in the middle he got very close to actually chilling the fuck out. he barely knew delta in the beginning and i think he did v much warm to him overtime and loosen the parameters of their relationship a lot. this is peak chill time. the assassination ruined everything but paris still… liked delta afterwards he was just insane and dangerous and delta was at ground zero of that. 

         (sidenote: some of the early paris chapters are so bad in terms of what he did and how he was written i actually feel the need to retcon some of it? it took a while for me to hit my stride w him, take the early stuff w a grain of salt)

-anyway. people LIKE delta. even though he doesnt talk hes v cute and unflappable in a way that’s very endearing to people even in empire. people do definitely go out of their way to fuck w him and its dehumanizing and they shouldnt do it but its not necessarily mean-spirited a lot of the time they just think hes interesting.

-sometimes it is meanspirited though. wanted to write something w misc soldiers trying to bully him. cause delta is obviously v submissive and incapable of defending himself but he’s also not trained to obey just anyone. in fact he would have some v large objections to that! (also an excuse to write protective paris at the end lol u know theyre dead)

-more simon carewhumper status. i wrote destroyer before i knew almost anything about whump like i didnt even know what a “carewhumper” was when i wrote it so i was surprised to see someone tag it w that. i guess it’s technically true! anyway i feel bad i let simon fall so much to the wayside. i think delta deserved more comfort over the events of destroyer and his relationship w simon really was very important to him so its on my list.

-thorn era sickfic. maybe the same psychic fever that makes him loopy? might be good for a non-canon bonus i cant tell if it would be more hurt or comfort yet

-this is a lot to get into but if i had to explain the way delta’s powers “worked” i would say that his only true ability is being a conduit. he is not really producing anything he is just tapping into something that is already there. it is not a meaningful difference to an outside party but in terms of what it feels like to use them….. its very psychedelic and psychospiritual and trippy. wouldnt recommend. also i really liked the tag that called delta a mage. its cute bcuz he actually loves pulp fantasy. he would like that :)

[muma-kitty]

alright, since some of you seem to agree with my thoughts, i think i'll elaborate a bit

sweeney todd's autism diagnosis

this might be a bit lengthy so ill spare you the scroll if youre not interested.

stiff movements (this isnt really a dancer's role)

lack of expression, tends to look either sad or angry most of the time. could just be the trauma tho

weird stilted way of speaking (hearn specific)

generally quiet and reserved outside of emotional outbursts (again, trauma)

strong sense of justice - "at the top of the hole sit the privileged few making mock of the vermin in the lower zoo"

entirely fixated on razors when reacquiring them, completely oblivious to mrs lovett talking about her massive crush on him

doesnt know what to do with his hands when not holding anything - "at last, my arm is complete again!"

[shaving contest /w pirelli and aftermath]

doesnt bother with any flash or flair, gets straight to work and gets the job done

becomes agitated and paces when expecting the beadle to arrive at his barber shop but doesnt know when (gotta have a schedule)

[epiphany]

if this isnt a textbook meltdown idk what is

mood swings (man goes through every stage of grief twice in the span of 3 minutes)

lashing out - "alright! you sir! how about a shave?"

mrs lovett trying to calm him down just upsets him even more

[a little priest]

doesnt understand what mrs lovett's hints at at first

asks what unfamiliar food is before trying it, as if hes hesitant to try new things

definitely an odd sense of humor

wordplay. so much wordplay.

more tactile stimming, this time with suspenders (hearn)

[god thats good]

upset because the package he was told would arrive by 5:45 is 15 minutes late (his SCHEDULE is RUINED)

once the chair arrives, becomes agitated when he cant get mrs lovett to stay and watch him open it (PLEASE let me share my interests!!!!)

once again calling for lovett's attention, this time to set up a system of communication. he just really wants to make sure she isnt missing his cues

[by the sea]

several minutes of sweeney being completely absorbed in his own thoughts while giving half-assed responses to at least pretend like he heard any of that nonsense

[wigmaker sequence]

time to infodump

possible echolalia? - "the madhouse? the madhouse!"

[finale]

upset that he now has to go find toby when hes expecting the judge to arrive soon (the schedule!)

doesnt seem to be aware of how threatening he sounds while calling for the kid

after killing the judge, suddenly remembers he was supposed to catch toby and runs out only to realize he didnt grab his razor (only has enough working memory for one task at a time)

im sure there are other details i missed, especially since everyone's performance is different, so feel free to add on

[sosi-cosi]

What they would've got you for valentines!

(You are MC, Yuu is your best friend for azul's)

leona kingscholar

In my opinion he would give you like a gift or something you like.

When I mean anything, I mean ANYTHING

"Herbavore, I heard from Ruggie that you wanted a new shoes Hm? yeah yeah, Don't ask why I got it. What you should say is "Thank leona-san for buying me this!" Leona glanced at your face and then at the gift and scoffed before walking. "Yeah, yeah, whatever.."

Other than that, he would've got you nothing 🤷‍♂️. I just have this feeling that he would forget about it until ruggie or Jack mentioning it to leona.

Now leona is in a scurry to find you somthing but didnt have the time

"Me being here is a gift, I could've been taking my nap, but no. I went to you to spend time with you. Be greatful. I'm even here. " You sighed and looked at leona with disappointment in your eyes. You were grateful that you had leona to spend time with you, but his attempt was very bad. "Now come here, you gonna take a nap with me."

lilia vanrouge

With lilia, he probably gonna get alot of things.

Want chocolates? lilia got you. Want a flower? Lilia got you. Want some company? Lilia got you. But most likely he'd take you somewhere.

There was a knock on your window. You go check to see it was lilia. "Lilia? what are you doing here?" You open the window for lilia, but he doesn't come inside. Instead, he takes your hand and pulls you out of Ramshackle. "Today is a special for humans, yes?" " yeah..It's the day to express fleeing for one another..."

He'd talk about how Valentine's for Fae's are different from the humans Valentines.

Lilia would hold you hand durring the walk or will stay close to you.

"–Prefect? Are you listening? Or are you too absorbed by my beauty during this moonlight? Kufufu." Lilia stopped walking and caresse your hand softly before putting your hand angsit his lips and kissing it. "Happy Valentine's Prefect.. I hope you enjoyed my gift!" He said before taking back to your room and vanishing.

Jamil viper

Jamil was tricky one because he barely showed up in the game beside chapter 4 and chapter 5.

He's gonna take you to his room, either lay on the bed or sit on the pillows on his floor and cuddles with you. He puts on some soft music as well. he'll also let's you play with his hair

Nothing because he's busy being a vice-house warden and helping kalim so he won't have the time to be with you. But he will make it up to you with gifts or hugs.

Jamil is with you in his bedroom sitting on his pillow on the floor while listening to some soft jazz in the background. You were playing with his hair while he read a book. You were slowly falling asleep due to the music and atmosphere. "Are you tired? you hand started to move slower when brushing my hair, " Jamil asked. His eyes were not out of the book, but he's still gonna listen. you nodded your head and eventually dozed off

Jamil would find this cute to him because you are letting guard down by sleeping, showing how comfortable you are with him

Jamil would place his book down and smile slightly before moving into a more comfortable position for the both of them. Jamil was now brushing your hair while you slept. "Goodnight محبوب, slept tight. Happy valentines Day." Jamil would hold your hand afterward before dozing off as well. (محبوب = darling in Arabic)

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was the easiest for me cuz you know 😏 I'm a azul lover

BESIDES THAT then he'd give a discount when you go meet him at mostro lounge because he still want to be paid but also be nice to the person he loves

If it doesn't do that, then he's most likely to get you something shiny for valentines, like a promise ring or one of those glass flowers

"Ah! Welcome, welcome in, our dear Prefect. Unfortunately, floyd and Jade are both busy, so you'll be with me. What can I get for you?" You just stare at azul,It was funny and also cute that he lied about how floyd and Jade were busy because you just saw them leave to go on break. "Thank you, azul. It's nice to meet you as well. It's not all the time that you're offering to help others in the lounge instead of working."

Azul is with you the whole time you are the lounge. Talking about anything while playing with yours or his fingers.

It was obvious azul wanted to give you something, so TO end all the pain for azul, you spat out if he has anything for you.

"I saw how Yuu gave a gift to mallues for valentines. It was cute. Do you have anything for me?" You said while drinking water. "Ah, yes, I do!" Azul's face lights up before taking you away into his office because this was personal. After you and azul were in his office, azul handed you a necklace, It had small sea shells and pearls on it. "This really compliments you. Do you like it?" You could tell by azul's ears he was either embarrassed or flustered madly, but you didn't pat attention when instead you kissed his cheek and smiled. "That's really sweet of you, azul, Happy Valentines." "Y-yeah.. Happy valentines Ang..angel fish.."

(That took long. I was supposed to post this on the 17th, but I got busy, soo yeah)

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

How would the Ganondorfs (Wind Waker, Ocarina of Time, Twilight Princess, Hyrule Warriors, and Tears of the Kingdom) & Demise react to their SO coming home to them, manic and slightly panicked, and when they finally get them to calm, SO admits that they ran into someone from their past that brought up really bad memories?

The someone didnt do anything to them! Just… they are associated with really, REALLY bad memories.

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Wind Waker Ganondorf would quickly become protective and intense the moment his SO arrived home in distress. After getting them to calm down, he’d listen to every detail of what they shared, piecing together the story with a careful expression, concern etched into his face.

Reaction: He’d gently hold his SO’s shoulders, bringing them to sit with him and wrapping them securely in his arms. “Then that person shall not trouble you again,” he’d assure them, a rare tenderness in his tone. His hand would trail up and down their back, grounding them with his presence. Though he’d be frustrated he couldn’t stop them from encountering that painful past, he’d do all in his power to keep it from hurting them again. If his SO wanted to speak more about it, he’d listen quietly, his grip tightening slightly in anger at the thought of anyone bringing them pain, but he’d let them take their time.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would be immediately on alert, his eyes sharp and wary as he brought his SO to his side and coaxed the details from them. His anger would grow visibly as he listened, though he’d try to keep it contained for their sake.

Reaction: Once they’d explained, he’d place his hands on either side of their face, locking eyes with them. “No one—nothing from your past—shall bring you fear any longer,” he’d say fiercely, his voice low but resolute. His fingers would tighten ever so slightly, his way of grounding them and offering his presence as an anchor. “You belong to me now, and I will see that you are safe. That past holds no power over you here.” He’d encourage them to talk as much or as little as they wanted, keeping them close, his warmth and steady presence offering protection. If he could, he’d actively erase the individual from his kingdom, sparing no expense to ensure they’d never cross paths again.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Twilight Princess Ganondorf would immediately bring his SO into his arms, fiercely protective as he gently but firmly coaxed the situation out of them. His presence would be both intense and steady, a grounding force as he absorbed the details, his eyes flickering with dark anger but softening when looking at his SO.

Reaction: Once he’d gotten the full story, he’d quietly pull them into his chest, one hand resting at the nape of their neck. “No one shall harm you in this land again. Not now, not ever.” He’d keep his voice low and calm, a solid reassurance against any fear that lingered. “If there is anything I can do to erase this shadow, tell me.” He’d mean it; he’d do anything, from obliterating their past tormentor to helping them face it, however they needed. He’d then stay by their side as long as it took for them to feel whole and safe again, willing to do whatever it took to remind them they were now under his powerful protection.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would bring his SO close without a word, immediately understanding their distress and encouraging them to speak freely. His eyes would narrow in fury at the thought of anyone causing them pain, past or present, but he’d let his SO guide the conversation.

Reaction: He’d hold them gently, pressing a comforting hand to the small of their back. “Whoever—or whatever—this memory is, I will personally see to it that it’s removed from your life,” he’d say with certainty. If his SO seemed reluctant to share more, he’d give them a knowing look, tilting their chin up to meet his gaze. “You have my strength beside you, always.” He’d stay close, physically reminding them of his power and protection, silently promising he’d never let anyone harm them. If they wanted to confront this shadow from their past, he’d offer his own strength, willing to stand by them through whatever it took to help them find peace.

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf

Tears of the Kingdom Ganondorf, upon seeing his SO’s panic, would immediately go into protective mode, guiding them to sit by him and listening intently. He’d be quiet and methodical as they explained, his eyes never leaving theirs, letting them know they had his full attention and understanding.

Reaction: Once they finished, he’d gently take their hands in his, pulling them closer. “That past holds no power here. I am with you, and nothing shall bring you harm.” He’d speak with such unwavering conviction that his SO would feel the weight of his words. His hands would move to their shoulders, squeezing firmly, anchoring them in the present with his strength. He’d keep his presence steady, offering them all the patience they needed. If his SO wished to take any action to address the memories or the person tied to them, he’d make it happen without hesitation, whether that meant a quiet confrontation or total removal of the individual’s influence in their life.

Demise

Demise would be visibly furious that his SO had encountered someone tied to a painful past, but he’d keep his emotions in check as he comforted them. He’d be more serious than usual, recognizing their vulnerability and vowing silently to destroy anything that could bring his SO harm.

Reaction: He’d lift their chin, his eyes blazing. “This pain has no place in your life any longer. I am your strength now.” He’d pull them into his embrace, his heat radiating like a protective aura, and whisper with quiet intensity, “If this memory haunts you still, tell me, and I will banish it.” He’d be incredibly attentive, letting them take whatever comfort they needed from him, be it his presence, his strength, or his willingness to make the painful memory disappear. He’d consider it his duty to shield them from any shadow of the past, and if they gave the word, he’d tear down any remnant of it.