#especially cause they look so fucking sad when they are separated

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

I finally got around to watching the clone wars so here are some Ahsoka and Anakin headcanons that wont leave my brain

They both steal each other's stuff and complain when they catch the other one doing it 

As Anakin’s hair grows longer he finds himself looking for hair wraps or something to push it back 

And he stumbles on Ahsoka's stash he borrows them mostly when she’s off on a mission so she won’t complain 

But she suspects him of doing so cause they’re never in the correct spot he also steals some of her simpler hand wraps when he’s training 

Ahsoka's just as bad tho she’ll steal Anakin’s cloaks and shirts all the time cause for some reason the council failed to give her comfortable clothes  

It all comes to a head when Ahsoka is debriefing the council and Anakin and she stops and goes “Is that my head wrap?” 

The change of topic is so abrupt that no one reacts for a hot second 

And then Anakin goes into full-on defensive mode like “What? No your device must be defective cause this isn’t yours” 

Which Ahsoka calls him out because “Jedi’s don’t lie so just come clean sky guy I know that mine. And are those my kriffing hand wraps?! Take those off you’re gonna mess them up!” 

Anakin is still defending himself and Obi-Wan is stepping in scolding them for using this line for their petty and selfish arguments  

And then Anakin says “Wait snips is that my cloak” “Don’t change the subject just cause you got caught” “No no you can’t talk about getting caught you little hypocrite that’s my cloak!” 

Obi-Wan is still chiming in half-heartedly but he knows better than to stop a full-on argument between those two 

Especially when they’re throwing each other words back at them like “I thought you said I should keep warm” “And I thought you said I need a hair wrap with all this hair” 

The argument only ends cause Windu threatens to hang up the com 

After the debriefing ends Anakin calls Ahsoka back and the argument starts right back up again 

Ahsoka always gets ready with her music playing 

And Anakin in true big brother fashion doesn’t want Ahsoka to know he likes her music so instead he’ll just turn on their version of shazam and stands by the speaker in what he thinks is a normal fashion 

It always goes something like this “Master what are you doing?” “What do you mean snips I’m not doing anything” “Oh so you’re just standing in my doorway with your device on for no reason” “Yep” “Okay when well have fun”

And in bratty little sister fashion she turns off her music and lights and leaves him in the doorway 

Later on she makes a playlist of all his favorite songs and sends a link to it 

All she hears is a grumbled “thank you” from the other room 

Anakin also plays his music out loud sometimes and it took a small amount of time to realize the songs Ahsoka complains about the most are her favorites 

He adds them to their shared playlist and ignores her when she plays those songs more 

Over time they make a lot of joined playlists

Some to work out and train to, some to hype them up before a mission, some to wind down after a mission, some to play when they have nightmares 

It’s something that they both enjoy more than they probably should 

Obi-Wan jokes that some of those playlists will be the death of him 

Ahsoka runs abnormally hot to the point where she could wear shorts in winter and Anakin runs cold enough to be confused for a corpse  

Obi-Wan Padme and Ahsoka all agree that he needs to get checked out cause no way is it healthy to be that cold 

They're both fine in their rooms where Ahsoka can blast the AC and Anakin can turn the heater up as high as he needs 

But the common room is where the bickering happens such as “Jesus snips I didn’t realize we lived on Hoth” or “I’m so sorry master that every room can feel like Mustafar” 

I also know that they both get nightmares like Earth-shaking soul shattering nightmares 

Some where they get abandoned some when they can’t save each other in time and some where they have to kill each other  

Not a lot of words need to be said when Ahsoka wakes Anakin out of a dead sleep with tears in her eyes or when Ahsoka wakes up cause Anakin is checking in on her for the third time that night 

They both just grab as many pillows and blankets as they can carry so they can make the world's best pillow fort 

Obi-Wan has grown accustomed to finding them cuddled up on the floor while the credits of a shitty old movie roll in the background  

When they get older I feel like they unlock the childhood nickname status 

Don't get me wrong snips and sky guy are their normal nicknames and will never go away but those are mostly used when they’re out in public or on the battlefield 

When they’re around people they trust like Obi-Wan and Padme you’ll hear questions like “You good Ani?” or “Be safe Soka”

[writella]

Fuckin’ Favorite

Synopsis: Whose the fairest of them all? It’s you. It’s always been you. Negan’s prepared to let each one of his wives know just that tonight.

— or: Oh Lord, does Negan love his fuckin’ favorite wife!

Details: Negan Smith x fem!reader, smut— fingering, thigh riding, and penetration without protection; reader at the Sanctuary, “wife”!reader, guilty!reader because when am I not feeling guilty for wanting Negan, Negan being rude in one small part, I’m pretty sure I changed the layout of the wives quarters from the show, and a fuck load of ‘fucks’ from Negan. Mostly proofread. wc: 2.2k.

A/N: I mostly get right to it, so buckle up! And if you like this one, check out this daydream I wrote because I think it’s really cute.

—with love from writella ♡

He comes in without a knock.

The door, though brittle as it is, slams shut. The metal and leather of his jacket clink and slap as his back pounds against it. He has no care that he could break the door, or for the noise and late hour of his arrival.

This was his house. His rules.

“Good evenin’, sweetheart.”

If it wasn’t for that slight twang in his accent, or that wiley look that punctuates the end of his sentences, making everything he says just as comical as unsettling, it would have sounded more like a, Hello, Clarice— nonetheless, you still hold your breath.

“It’s half past ten,” you decide to say, looking down, making sure you don’t sound too sarcastic or displeased with his appearance. It’s just that you hated it when he came to your room, especially when all the other girls were right outside in the common room or in their bedrooms that neighbored yours. You much rather go to his room if you have to. It’s quiet and separate from the rest of the habitants of the Sanctuary. He could be as loud as he wanted— even though he always was anyway— but that would mostly be for you— so you didn’t have to feel so ashamed.

“Well would you prefer a Hey, sexy. Strip down. Ass up. then? Just get right to it?” You say nothing. “Cause I could.” Negan tilts his head sideways with a slight grin, his forehead protruding forward as he tries to find your eyes. All he sees is cheeks starting to flush, an embarrassed shake of your head, and eyes that stay stuck on your black ballerina flats.

You were sitting on the rear of your bed, only looking up sometimes. Recently, you were trying to get better with eye contact. You wanted to show that you’re not afraid of him anymore. It was supposed to be a silent statement that he wasn’t fooling you and that you weren’t softening up to him. That you know what this is, who he is; you’re cognizant of what he does to you, to the others girls, to people outside these walls. But, this didn’t work. No matter if you were looking down or up, you could never seem to get rid of that deer in the headlights look— The Roadkill Stare or The Corpse’s Bride as Negan called it— wide and bewildered, like he was going to run you over. Sometimes it made him feel sad. That there were moments where he could see you trying to resist your natural instinct to flinch when he comes near. But other times, it made him feel powerful. Not the fact that he scared you, but that he could see what was underneath it— that you were scared of yourself. He knows you like him. He knows from the way your face slightly twists as you suppress your snickers and smiles at his jokes when you two are alone, or when he makes fun of Simon for yet another one of his bad attempts at acting like him; when you think you’re doing well at maintaining that timid Tim Burton eyed version of a poker face. He knows you’re not completely scared of him, at least not anymore. Little by little, he’s learning to clock the nuances of your expressions: he sees how your eyes trail his body when he undresses in front of you, or the way you follow him as he walks to talk to this person or that, how you’re acutely aware of when and how he moves, your eyes flickering towards his hands before he gestures with them. It’s like you know too. As if you see his underneath the way he can for you. You’re becoming as familiar as he is.

He’s aware.

You can’t fool him any longer.

“Get up for me.” It’s a soft command said in his darkened voice. On instinct, you oblige. This is how it is. He walks closer, his fingertips lightly brushing slowly down your shoulder until he reaches your waist. He grabs you quick and close on both sides, pulling you straight against him. You gasp, arms swinging back slightly, back arching against him as he presses you on his lower abdomen and groin. You can feel his breath, and the heat of his intense gaze. “Kiss me.”

Your mouth is agape. Your breath shudders. You’re frozen.

You do nothing.

There you go again, his little fawn bride. If eyes could be any more rounder, symmetrical spheres, they’re yours. He could laugh but he doesn’t. He only repeats himself. Quietly, sternly, “You kiss me first this time.”

You had never done that before.

“Do I gotta say it a third?”

You shake your head. No.

Hesitantly, you reach up, touching his face with ghostlike fingertips, feeling the bristles of his beard as you bring yourself closer. Your lips are light and tentative as you finally press yours on his. For him, it was like being kissed by an angel. It makes him soften up for a moment, tilt your head up higher for you to give you more leverage. He kisses you just as sweetly. His thumb strokes your jaw.

After a few more kisses, you pull back to look at him. You hold his shoulders and he holds you by your waist. Your faces are so close, his eyes could almost be as wide as yours, and for a moment, it all feels so soft and dream-like. But quickly, the iridescence fades: before you realize it, he puts his tongue in your mouth forcefully, making your head roll back. The unexpected shift makes you gasp into his mouth.

He turns you around, slams you again your door. Your tall bureau near it bangs against the wall with you. Some of your folded clothes you had yet to put away and jewelry falls off the top as your head bounces.

Negan’s left hand runs down your body, sliding two fingers down under your dress and over your panties, pressing in at your slit. He finds wetness forming. His fingers make it more pronounced as he creates a wet spot.

“Tell me you want me,” he says as he starts to rub your clit.

You take a shaky breath inwards, covering a small moan.

Negan’s fingers slide inside your underwear and down right into your hole. He pumps slowly three times, never losing eye contact with you and then he takes them out. “Cause I want you,” and he proves it by putting the two fingers in his mouth and licking them clean, wiping his lips afterwards with his tongue. “Tell me you do too.”

Your breath remains heavy. Finally, you whisper, “I want you.”

He spins you around again. His back against the door once more, producing another slam you know all the girls will hear. He raises one of his legs and slots his thigh in between yours. His hands rest on your hips, rocking you against him. It feels good. Your thin cotton panties and bare thighs brushing and rocking against his that are rough and denim clad. You try to resist the urge to make any sounds because of how much you like it. “Tell me you need me.”

This makes you whine. “Can we—” you start to ask— and you can’t believe you’re even going to say it— “Can we just go to your room? Please?” Oh God, what would everyone at Alexandria think? They’d be so disappointed. They’d hate you. The wives have never been mean, they accepted you, understood your condition more than anyone else, but where you only had very educated guesses of what everyone at home would think of you, you had a stone hard fact of how the other girls were starting to see you. Their eyes could not lie as much as yours: you felt women’s growing glares of silent resentment whenever you were seen with Negan. He was more forgiving with you; never got too nasty about your habit of not speaking when you’re spoke to; he was gentle with his touch when others were watching; never made you hang out with any of the other men if you didn’t want to; and he talked to you, communicated more. They saw it. They knew it. They figured you were more in the know about things outside the Sancutary than they were. You tried to use it to keep them informed as well, as a way to preserve what little favor you had left, but now look at you, ruining it all as they’re forced to listen. Not only submitting to whatever he may do to you, but asking to change the location before it begins.

“No. You get me here or not at all.” You knew he wasn’t lying. His voice was stern. He looked you in the eye even if you weren’t looking back, you felt it. It told you that he wouldn’t budge, not even a little. “And you can sleep in those panties if that’s the case.”

You stay silent for a moment. Eyes peering into his wishing just your look could say it all. “Negan…” you whisper.

“Yes, baby?”

“I- I need you.”

In an instant, Negan pushes you off of him. His hands go to the ends of your dress and pull it off of you with your arms and hair flying.

“Take it off,” he demands after he throws you down on your bed.

You feet kick off your flats and you raise your hips to discard your panties, never losing sight of him as he rips off his jacket, unbuckles his belt, and crosses his arms to get rid of his shirt. You loved the look of his years-faded tattoos against his tan skin and the curves of his light muscles when he raises his arms.

You’re in a trance, not seeing that he sees that you’re doing it again. Bambi eyes trailing him down. It’s every time you guys do this. And fuck, you must think he’s sexy. He loves it. Because he knows he’s fucking sexy. He knows that pretty girls like you will always come around. You just can’t help it. His grin is as wide as your eyes because of it.

Negan is hard and he wastes no time. He’s been thinking about claiming you all day. He hooks his hands under your knees as you lay with your back flat on the bed.

Negan lines himself against you and immediately starts to piston himself inside of you, never completely pulling out. Your breast shake as his thrusts keep pushing you back. You felt like you were vibrating.

He is obsessed with this angle. Getting to see your face scrunch and twist and contort. Getting to hear your heavy pants and sighs. Getting to feel the squeeze of your pussy and he continues to push inside you fast, fast, fast.

And he’s mesmerized by your breast. The continuous bounce of your perky tits that were now his. He wants his mouth on them, he wants his dick between them, but for now he’ll just watch them jump and spring— it’s just as sexy to him. He might even have to cancel all of tomorrow's plans just to watch them fly all day like this.

Your head turns to your left side and you catch yourself in your full length mirror— the view is from head to the top of your waist. You see your left tit bouncing along with your head and stomach as Negan keeps pushing into it with no relent. Instantly you moan at the sight. Your hand swings to your face right after, your eyes closing shut.

Negan rips your fingers from off your mouth. “No,” he warns. “I know you like it—” you whine when he says that— “Stop hiding it. Look at yourself or I’ll stop.”

You don’t open them.

He stops.

“You gonna fuckin’ listen?”

Slowly, you ynclose your scrunched eyes, seeing yourself and your parted lips again.

“Good girl.” And then, Negan starts splitting you open again, making you shake. The sudden movement makes you moan, “oh- uh.”

“Tell me you want it.”

You don’t resist anymore. You continue to look at yourself in the mirror as you say, “I want it.”

“Tell me you need it.”

Your head turns to watch where your body connects with his. “Ohmygod, I need it.”

He growls as he follows your gaze, voice strained and rough like he’s going to punch something as he repeats, thrusting faster, “Tell me you fucking need it.”

“I need it.” Then you moan, “Negan, please!” You chant, “Please. Please, Negan, I need it!”

“You need it, baby?” He jeers. “You want me to give it to ya?”

You nod as you whine, tears almost coming out. Your breasts still bounce for him and you love it as much as you hate it. “Yes, Negan.”

“You know what I came in here to do, baby?”

You’re still whining, you're practically incoherent. His little fuck doll. All you can say is his name.

“Look at me when I tell you.”

Your eyes go up to his. Watching him as he continues to pump into you. You see how his body vigorously shakes in unison with yours. His skin and his pushing up and down, in and out, as he makes your body jump.

“I came in here,” he starts, losing his breath and trying not to falter from his thrusts as his face places itself above yours, “To show every single bitch in the goddamn house that you’re mine. And that you’re the only fuckin’ one.” You respond with only sex-filled sounds. You’re close to exploding. Your body still jumps along with his. Your bouncing breasts rubbing against his pex as he commands, “Tell me you want me to do it. You want me to make you come.”

As always, though this time it was because you were on the verge of losing all control, you give no answer.

His words bite at your parted lips as he repeats, “Tell me!” And he slaps the side of your ass.

The pang forces you to speak: “I want you to do it Negan please!”

Negan rises. His mouth circles as he moans. He holds your hips now, raising them off the bed as he pumps into your harder. “Say it again.”

“Do it, Negan, please. Please make me come.” With each word ending in moaning pants as you repeats, “Please- Please- Please- Please- Please-”

“Oh fuck,” his gutteral voice rasps and roars for all to hear. Your absolute submission brings him closer to the edge. He smiles widely knowing he’s about to come so hard in that tiny pussy of yours. “OH FUCKIN LORD,” he laughs, knowing he has the whole floor’s attention, not caring a single bit how any of it sounds. “GOD DAMN. THAT’S FUCKIN RIGHT. IM GONNA MAKE MY PRETTY LITTLE FUCKIN WIFE FUCKIN COME BECAUSE SHE’S- MY FUCKIN’- FAVORITE.”

[servicpop]

AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!

THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3

-🎱

✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader

「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)

✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time

notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!

You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.

Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.

"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.

Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.

Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.

Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.

One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.

But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.

"That's it. That's the smile I love."

With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.

Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."

After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.

"That's too corny,"

"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"

And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.

One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.

You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?

You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.

"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.

"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?

You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.

"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."

Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.

You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."

Bonus ♡

You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."

Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.

a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days

[hyperions-light]

A home in life, a berth in death, a house of many mansions: the Necropolis fucks

Before the game came out the Necropolis was one of the top five places I was hoping they would let us visit in Thedas and I'm so thrilled it did not disappoint! The architecture, the atmosphere is impeccable, the reactivity everywhere (cleansing the Vault of the Beloved, the secret room that appears, the skeleton workers that begin cleaning different areas as the game progresses), the detail in everything. Did you know that in the room where you get the codex entry about the flesh-eating beetles, you can look down and see them running across the floor? Love it!

But the environment itself is only an aspect of what makes the Necropolis so much fun; the insight we finally get into Nevarran culture is possibly the most important thing that comes out of it. The only Nevarran we've really met before was Cassie (love her, she was not very informative, though), so to actually get to meet people who serve as stewards to one of the most sacred cultural rites is incredible and exactly what I wanted from this game. I loved discovering their unique perspective on magic, and how they handle their Templar Order.

It's also a fascinating lore point to discover that Emmrich can speak to the dead; we've never actually encountered a REAL ghost in DA, I don't think. There have been things which appeared to be pieces of once-living people, but it could always be explained by 1) weird magic causing them to live past their normal lifespan 2) a spirit acting as a dead person. Emmrich makes a distinction between speaking with real dead people and imbuing a once-living body/articulated skeleton with a spirit. This is so cool and interesting! And they've been doing this consistently and regularly, to talk to the late King Markus! All the magic applications in this game make the South seem so boring lol (but that's for another post).

And I love that the Necropolis itself is considered alive by the Watchers! It moves and rearranges its own configuration in accordance with some sort of unknown will; is it partially built inside the Fade? Is it imbued with magical energies, like Arlathan was? How old is it? Is the reason it functions this way because it's so old that it predates the separation of the Fade from the material world, or is it just that the Veil is thin there? Are the Lichlords the ones directing the Necropolis? How? So many interesting implications and questions brought up by just the building itself!

I think my favorite thing about the Necropolis and the Watchers, though, is how they present death. Most of the cultures that we've encountered so far in Thedas view death as a universally negative thing, but the Nevarrans celebrate its place in the cycle of existence. In the gardens, which are such a beautiful, peaceful location, there's a puzzle you can do where you have to turn on a series of meditation bells in a specific order to get into a treasure room; when you put together the poetry accompanying each bell in the correctly, they describe (metaphorically) the movement of a person through life and into death. It's such a gorgeous little detail, and I love the way the Necropolis is designed to encourage the player to think about death (it also folds in so neatly to Emmrich's personal plotline!), especially since it is so integral to the game as a whole (yet another different post).

Visiting Blackthorne Manor and picking up mementos in the Necropolis shows that, this death positivity is, in fact, a pervasive cultural attitude. Nevarrans believe that they have a duty to each other that persists after they die; that the body can keep being useful; that the living should honor the dead. It's such an interesting perspective that was missing from the DA series; people die all the time, and, of course, it's intended to make the player sad, but DA has never seriously discussed death, its implications, what it truly means or how it affects those left behind. They've never really made you sit and look at it as the player. There are some sad lines after Leandra dies in DA2, but it's mostly in the narrative to give Hawke a reason to hate blood magic and stuff. There's no funeral. There's a few lines from Gamlen, Hawke, and your companions, and then the game moves on. It's always like that; the game gives you a moment to be sad, and then it moves on. There's no mourning. But this game is partially about mourning! It's about people being gone, and it being too late; it insists you look at death and deal with it, and the Necropolis is the epitome of this.

The game asks the question over and over what you think the characters should do in response to their own losses, and the Necropolis represents are really interesting, nuanced, answer to that question. They're not gone; they're right there. They're still with you. You can go and visit them and celebrate who they were in a place that honors and cares for them, still. It's so beautiful and interesting and full of love, for the living and the dead.

I didn't even talk about Emmrich's plotline or the class differences in the Necropolis, or how everyone there is a weird goth nerd and I love it so much, but I think that's really the important point: the symbiosis. The living; the dead; the spirits; the corporeal, all finding a way to be together.

[slaytheusurper]

⭑ Separate Worlds, Chapter Five ⭑

Series masterlist

Pairing: Michael Gavey x Popular!rich!reader

A/N: My heart hurts :(

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, slapping Felix, heart ache, sad Michael. (bit of a filler chapter)

Summary: Living two completely separate lives you and Michael had never really crossed paths and you’ve never really looked at him before. But when your worlds collide, affections arise.

Word count: 1.9k

Monday, October 24 2006

It had almost been a week since you last saw him, you finished your project with him that same afternoon and evening. But now you were addicted, everything you did reminded you of him and it scared you a bit. You hadn’t messaged or talked much since then, with there being other assignments and some hangouts with Farleigh, Felix and Maisie. Eloise had only just recovered from her fever and joined you yesterday. He had sent a test message to see if he got your number right and he did, but much more conversation didn’t follow.

However this morning you would see him again in class, but you were late. Lately you had the most amazing dreams of Michael but this morning one of those dreams apparently caused you to oversleep, not hearing your alarm. You luckily arrived just in time and to your disappointment all the seats near or next to Michael were taken. When you looked for your friends, they had saved you a seat. Felix in particular, great. 

When you sat down, your eyes once again found Michael, and he glanced over his shoulder. When your eyes met he quickly averted his gaze. You were pulled out of your thoughts when Felix snorted. “What’s he lookin’ at you for?” You sighed, opting to just ignore him. “I don’t know Felix, why do you care?” You snapped back instead. The professor was already collecting students' projects, Michael had both of yours. 

���You wanna know what I think? I think he’s got a crush on you. Pathetic really.” Felix smirked. Farleigh much to your dismay, laughed at his comment. But for some reason you didn’t stop them. Were you embarrassed of Michael? Eloise didn’t say anything, finishing some last notes of her and Farleighs shared project before the professor reached your row. When she was done and handed it in, she smiled at you. “Was it terrible to work with him?” You rolled your eyes at her question. “No. It wasn’t, it was fine.” 

The moment you said it you felt a blush creep on your cheeks. It was more than fine, you humped each other like dogs in heat and both got off of just that. But even the thought of telling your friends that you had something going on with Michael Gavey made you anxious. Ever since that night when he was dumped by Oliver at your party, they made fun of him. Not necessarily bullying him but they did whisper behind his back. And yet not a word left your lips to defend him. 

Friday, October 28 2006

The weather wasn’t bad today, it was still cold but at least there was a clear sky and the sun shone brightly. It had you in a great mood, you still hadn’t talked to Michael and didn’t see much of him. Only a spare glance in lectures. But you were gone before he could actually speak to you.

You didn’t really know why you were avoiding him, or maybe you just wanted to pretend you didn’t know. He was all you thought about though, especially when you were alone. The way his covered erection rutted up into you, his lips feverishly moving against yours, his desperate moans and whines. You missed his touch. 

Thank god your week was finished, the last lecture today was done at five, way too late for your liking. It was the only lecture you didn’t have with friends or with Michael. But when you were leaving, heading back to your dorm to change before dinner, your heart almost stopped at the sight, Felix and Michael, speaking, in the courtyard. You could tell by Michaels expressions that he was fucking pissed and embarrased. Like he looked that day in the library where he scolded you and Farleigh. Felix had a grin on his face so this could only be horrible.

You quickly walked up to them and caught some of Felix’ words. “So don’t get any ideas yeah?” Oh no. “Hey! What are you two talking about?” You tried to sound happy and casual to dissolve some tension but that didn’t work. Michael took one look at you and stormed off.

It only took one glance at Felix to know what happened. “What the fuck did you do?” Felix only laughed and looked at you sheepishly. “What. Do you care for him or something? Just told him to stay away from you, you don’t need a mental patient like him to ruin your social life. Just doing you a-” Smack! 

Your breath caught in your throat. Holy fuck. You just smacked Felix across the face. So hard a red hand print was clear on his skin. His mouth fell open and he looked at you in shock. You decided to just make a run for it, maybe you could catch up to Michael. You still had the code for his dorm unit.

When you reached the right building, your shaking hands typed in the code and the door opened. You almost sprinted up the stairs. Nearly racing down the hallway to reach his door. You knocked three times. Nothing. Another two times then. Also nothing. Defeat washed over you and after listening at his door and getting some questionable looks from other students, you left.

You felt horrible, he probably thought you and Felix had something now. And that you just played him or something. Oh no, what if he thought it was a prank? You were afraid to call him though. So you walked back to your dorm, when you walked in your hallway you saw a familiar face sitting on the ground next to your door. You rushed over to him. “Michael! I was looking for you, please don’t listen to Felix-” 

“Stop, I already know what you’re about to say. I knew you were a bitch from the start! Just like every other girl here! That Catton cunt can have you. I knew I should’ve never trusted you. I knew you could never like a guy like me!” He didn’t even let you speak before he got up and walked away.

Hell no, you were not about to let him go again. “Michael, will you please stop assuming things and just listen to me!” But he was not having it, he was really upset this time. You caught up with him and pulled at his arm, he tried to pry you away from him, and then you noticed, he was crying.

Your heart shattered, you made him cry. You were ashamed of him and hurt him. “Oh- Michael please no-” He finally pried your hand from his arm and quickly descended the stairs, but you were not giving up. You ran after him, and you caught up to him with ease as he wasn’t a very fast runner.

You stopped in front of him and put your hands against his chest. “Michael please, I’m begging you. Let’s go to my dorm so we can talk, please, I swear you are misunderstanding the whole situation. You’re working yourself up, please, let’s talk.” He wanted to push past you again, tears now staining the cosy sweater he was wearing. 

Fuck, you really hurt him. But then he seemed to give up, standing still. You were glad most people were at dinner now. “Come on, come with me.” You begged, grabbing his hand. He didn’t say anything, avoiding your eyes. He let you pull him with you and you led him back up. To your dorm and inside, you sat him down on your bed and locked the door. Just in case Felix got any ideas. When you sat down next to him, he looked the other way. Realising he had never been in your dorm before.

“Michael, please look at me.” He didn’t. You knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. “Michael, please just face me.” When he did, slowly, his eyes and cheeks were red, some tears still in his eyes. Your hand was trembling when it reached his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. When your hand was in your lap again he looked down. “Michael, what did Felix say to you?”

He stayed silent for what seemed like a minute. You almost jumped when he finally spoke. “At first he just said hi, and I was confused. But greeted him anyway. Then he asked me how our project went, I said really well. But that seemed to upset him and then he started going on about how I shouldn’t assume you and me are friends now, let alone something more. When he said I shouldn’t get any ideas is when you walked up.” 

Your face turned red, and you couldn’t believe Felix had just straight up intervened in your ‘friendship’ with Michael, he really had lost his fucking mind. “When I saw you, I realised that he was right. You had been ignoring me for a week and I just knew that you would never want me.”

Oh my god. Tears filled his eyes again and he furiously wiped them away. “Michael, I don’t even know what to say-” “You don’t have to say anything I already know! I know that this was it and that you’re not actually interested!” He turned back to anger. 

“That is not true! You haven’t got the slightest idea of what I was going to say!” You closed your mouth the second you realised you were yelling too. “Fuck- Uhm. I just mean, let me talk for a moment. Before assuming things and talking for me.” He didn’t respond and just blankly stared ahead of him instead.

“Look, I hadn’t expected for things to turn out like they did. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want them to. Sure, normally I don’t date guys like you but not because I don’t like guys like you but because I had just never met you.” You rambled and he seemed to listen, but if you had gotten through to him you didn’t know. “So?” He looked at you. “So what?”

“So say something.” He rolled his eyes. “What do you want me to say. I am supposed to just believe you really like me, even after ignoring me for a week.” You were silent at that, were you purposely ignoring him? “I think I only ignored you because I was scared.” He scoffed at that. “Scared of what? Me?” He looked at your wall again. “No, uhm. Just- okay I guess I was afraid of how my friends would react. I know Eloise and Maisie just want me to be happy but-” 

“I knew it. You are embarrassed of me!” He was about to stand up but you pulled him back down, causing him to sit closer to you than before. “No! It’s just that I don’t want you to get hurt!” He scoffed again. “Well guess what, I’m hurt. Even more than I expected to be. That’s why I don’t trust people like you. Because you hurt me.” You looked at him with teary eyes.

“I’m so sorry. I thought I was...protecting you but I was hurting you instead-” “Yeah. You were.” You were silent yet again. “What can I do, please? I don't want to lose you.” He stared ahead again. “I don’t know. You can start by acknowledging me. Pay for our first date.” You smiled at that and it seemed a little smile was on his face too.

Tag list (dm for tag): @sepherinaspoppies

[shutupineedtothink]

I’m still s h o o k that people do not see exactly what’s going on with Moiraine throughout s2 and people are dragging her and dismissing her without an ounce of empathy for what she’s been through, so I’m bringing the full character analysis for y’all (and my own sanity). So this is a big ol in defense of Moiraine (and Lan) rant, so if that’s not your thing, scroll down now. Here we go.

I just… The AUDACITY some people have to look at Moiraine and be angry and pissed off at how she acts in S2. To not feel any sympathy and empathy for her and the monumental weight she’s under every goddamn day. There’s a reason we start with that bath scene in 2x01 ��� it shows you everything. How she’s just going through the motions. How she only lets herself cry when she’s alone in the water. How she literally curls into the fetal position and looks reproachfully devastated over her knees as she hugs them to her chest in a futile attempt at comfort. Not to mention the direct comparison/callback with the bath scene in 1x01, where she has both her power and Lan still, and now she’s lost her connection to both of them.

How is it not painfully obvious that every interaction she has after that bath scene is infused with a trauma response? Let’s tally up the devastation she’s been through. At the end of S1, she was 1. banished from the sisterhood of the white tower (they literally turned their backs on her), 2. was separated AGAIN from the love of her life fully expecting to never see her again, 3. was cut off from the other love of her life (that would be Lan, for the record) which is all the worse bc it’s her own fault for masking the bond, 4. was fully made to believe she’s been stilled from the one power aka an integral part of her being, AND 5. she’s “failed” her mission at the eye of the world – the one goal she’s had for the last 20 years, her life’s purpose – because instead of locking away the dark one she’s directly caused Rand to set Ishamael free.

You don’t think it's justified to be a little pissed off and standoffish after all of that? You don’t think the weight of that guilt, grief, pain, and loss is a reasonable cause to be distant, cold, harsh, having a little bit of a death wish? That’s TRAUMA, baby! She is absolutely wrecked, and it’s coming out in the worst way in her interactions with others (especially Lan because we’ve seen how they should be), but it’s absolutely not because she actively wants to hurt the people around her. In fact after almost every moment she lashes out at someone, we see an equally sad/grief-stricken/devastated moment from her and THAT’S the real emotion hiding underneath the anger. This woman needs therapy and understanding and patience, and does not deserve to be judged at the worst time of her life.

Ok fine, you say, but Lan IS patient and understanding with her! And she’s still an asshole to him! You’re right, Lan is absolutely trying his best and doing just about everything he can to be there for her in 2x01/2x02 (with a little help from Verin and Tomas). But 1. It’s STILL not about him, Moiraine is not obligated to respond in a certain way to her grief and pain that makes him feel better, and 2. This is Moiraine goddamn Damodred and even her trauma response is also a front to protect him, to push him away from her and what is now certainly a suicide mission to fight the dark without her powers.

This is SOOO important to really get Moiraine’s character — y’all gotta understand this: Moiraine truly loves only TWO people on the whole fucking planet: Siuan and Lan. They are also the only people who truly love her, unconditionally, with all of her flaws and imperfections. Please please ingrain that into your brain, especially for Lan, in this context. (Siuan is a whole other conversation I won’t get into at the moment.) Moiraine loves Lan, he loves her, deeply. That’s the foundation of everything they go through with each other in this season, despite what’s happening on the surface.

Once you accept that as fundamental truth, everything makes a whole lot more sense. She is a dick to him to push him away. Literally tells him he failed her to put the final nail in the coffin of driving him away, which is his worst nightmare. On the surface it seems egotistic at best, plain cruel at worst. But look underneath. Moiraine always has reasons 2, 3, 6 layers deep for everything she does.

With everyone else she’s mean to this season, namely her sister and her nephew, it’s born out of distrust (and the aforementioned trauma response). She can’t afford to trust anyone because anyone could be a dark friend. (And if they’re not a dark friend, then they become a liability and endangered.) Anything she lets slip could be used to hurt/control Rand and push them all one step closer to eternal darkness. Oh and when we see Barthanes’ true nature that turns out to be fucking justified, by the way. But I digress.

Right so why is she an asshole to Lan then? Because she doesn’t trust him? I don’t believe that for a second. These two have been on the same page, literally sharing the same headspace, for the last 20 years – she knows he’s the best person she’s ever met, the least likely to ever turn to the dark, ever. It’s an actual impossibility. So it’s not that she doesn’t trust him. She literally marvels at how courageous he must be to fight the dark with only a sword.

The true reason is: she does trust him, she does love him, and she KNOWS him. She knows that he will never leave her like this, in her darkest hour. He is both honor-bound to her (which he takes very seriously) and deeply cares for her. The problem is that now his life is in serious danger by staying with her. But there is no calmly explaining to him that he should return to the white tower for his own good and bond to another aes sedai who can actually channel, who can actually hold up her end of the partnership and protect him and heal him in return for his loyalty and sacrifice. Or better yet, find Nynaeve, who is not only ridiculously powerful and has probably the best chance of protecting him out of anyone, but who also loves him.

If Moiraine loves him and wants him safe, the ONLY option she has to protect him, the one good thing left in her life even if their bond is masked, is to drive him away. To make it so that he’ll stay far away from her of his own free will, and never come after her and her suicide mission to defeat the dark. Because she has already lost everything, she has no control over her fate anymore (if she ever had any to begin with), but the ONE thing she can still try to do is keep him safe. And hopefully, maybe he’ll be happy, one day. Her reasoning is directly confirmed for us in the last thing she says to him in 2x02 before she leaves: “Light protect you, al’Lan Mandragoran.” That was her goal all along, to protect him.

That’s the true reason she’s Like That to him. It’s all out of her love for him, and a desperate desire not to drag him down with her when she’s sure she’s destined to die on this mission. Is her strategy misguided? On the one hand yes, because she does need people to help her and she needs to trust someone, as he points out. On the other hand, she’s absolutely fucking right because look what happened with the Fade fight at the end of 2x01. Both her and Lan would have died without Verin and Tomas, and it would have been because she couldn’t channel. He is factually, logically, physically better off without her as long as she’s “stilled.”

This is why it makes sense how Lan eventually responds the way he does. He initially sees right through what she’s trying to do, he literally says he won’t let her push him away. He knows her too, better than anyone, including Siuan at this point. But he isn’t expecting her to go as far as she does, and it shakes him to his core. She tells him he failed her, has his worst fears confirmed, and then hears the words “we were never equals” and hears that she thinks she’s better than him, when she means the exact opposite. Tomas tells him to really listen but he can’t, in that moment.

But then he gets some distance, and some perspective thanks to Ihvon and Maksim, and he remembers: he loves her. He believes in her and he knows her and he knows what she’s doing to push him away (although maybe not why, when it comes to protecting him, because he doesn’t see himself as someone who needs protecting). Even better, he realizes that her situation is actually not what she thinks, that she’s shielded not stilled, and he can do something about that.

I LOVE Lan in 2x07 because he’s got Moiraine’s number now, and he will not be swayed by any further attempts (rather weak attempts at this point) to lash out at him. He just takes all the shit she throws at him, and calmly asks her what he needs to know and tells her what she needs to hear (“hopefully everything we’ve lost” and “that’s what I thought” and “you need to trust someone, Moiraine”), and is truthful with her even if she is still putting on this act with him in her fear and grief. He isn’t having any of it, he sees straight through it to the fear and pain underneath. And he literally DECIDES they are going to be okay, and then he fucking. Follows. Through.

He is not a doormat to her rage, he is not her servant, he’s not going back to her with his tail between his legs. He SHOWS UP for her in her darkest hour, when NO ONE, not even Siuan, can see what’s going on with her. That’s a true friend, a true hero, and absolute king behavior.

In conclusion, Moiraine’s behavior in s2, while not cute, is totally justified given the trauma, circumstances and everything she’s dealing with (jfc the lack of sleep alone) and makes sense in light of her ultimate goal to protect the world, which includes protecting Lan. And Lan’s response, once he figures out what to do, is the absolute correct way to handle the situation and is not weakness at all but strength in the highest order.

I’m so glad we got the payoff of all that with their conversation in 2x08 and reconnecting the bond. It was so beautiful, so earned, and reminded us of the level they’re on with each other — which is a soul connection way beyond what any of us can imagine.

[thenightshadowqueen]

What do you think are Merlin and Arthur’s greatest personality strengths and weaknesses? Why? What do you love about their dynamic?

Also, what are your top 5 favorite moments from Merlin BBC? Sorry if you've answered this questions before....

Ooh, those are great questions! And don’t worry; I haven’t done these yet. Thank you for the ask! I am so, so sorry that it’s taken me so long to get to this; I’ve been having a time the past few weeks, and I wanted to give you a properly thought-out answer.

Okay, so: Merlin. I think the idea of strengths and weaknesses for him really comes from whose perspective you’re looking from. If we’re looking at what makes him such a compelling character, then I think his greatest strength is his complete and unconditional devotion to Arthur. That is what draws me, at least, so totally to his character—not in the sense that he isn’t a fascinating and full character separate from Arthur, but in the sense that his self, especially in the later seasons, is so fundamentally tied to Arthur that it’s impossible to have Merlin as he is without Arthur. However, if we’re looking at strengths and weaknesses from the perspective of Merlin’s own mental health, this very same trait is his greatest weakness. The same is true if you look at all of the bad things that happened due to Merlin’s decisions: his worst decisions were made with Arthur’s best interests at heart.

Arthur’s strengths and weaknesses are, I think, a little easier to determine. His greatest strength is probably his dedication to his people and his determination to do what’s best for his kingdom. On the other hand, he is a bit of a dick, especially during the earlier seasons. He can also be quite oblivious (some of which is his character and some of which is questionable writing).

As for what I love about the dynamic, I think a lot of it comes down to the fundamental imbalance of the whole thing. I’m fascinated and quite compelled by unhealthy ship dynamics (I have my theories as to why, but we don’t need to get into that here), and just the fact that Arthur doesn’t know about Merlin’s magic means that their relationship can never be equal. And then, when you think about Merlin’s self-destructive devotion, it all becomes clear. Arthur is just as dedicated to Merlin as the other way around, but because Arthur doesn’t have all the information, he is unable to put in the same amount of effort and love as Merlin. [Autocorrect tried to change ‘love’ to ‘lube’. Just thought I’d share that.] Of course, there’s also the fucking chemistry; that’s what got me into them in the first place, but the unbalance of the whole thing is why I’ve stayed so long.

Top 5 BBC Merlin Moments

5. “Where does it say my destiny includes murder?” (S1E12)

This scene has always stood out to me during rewatches, because with the context of the full show, it’s dripping in dramatic irony. Merlin kills so many people for Arthur, most necessary and some not, and at some point he stops thinking twice about it, because he’ll do anything to protect Arthur. And this scene is so fucking sad, because he’s so innocent, and you just know that that’s all going to be ripped away.

4. Merlin poisoning Morgana (S2E12)

This is such a crucial turning point. This kind of solidifies Morgana turning sides, but it’s also the first moment you get to see that ruthlessly devoted side of Merlin. I mean, he poisons one of his closest friends to save Arthur. And I feel like this is one of the first times we really get to see how far he’s willing to go. Also, shoutout to Colin and Katie, because the acting was incredible.

3. That one five-second shot of Morgana grabbing Gwaine’s jaw (S4E12)

Look, I have deep reasons for the other ones. I’m allowed to have one shallow moment as a favourite. As a treat. They’re both so fucking gorgeous, and together? In that dynamic? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: they are conspiring to cause my death.

2. Arthur and Merlin’s fight in the marketplace (S1E1)

They’re both such sassy little shits in this scene, and I love them for it. But also the pure sexual tension in that scene is unreal. Like, Arthur is so fucking delighted to find someone who treats him like a normal person, and Merlin is just pissed off. Is there a better dynamic? I don’t think so.

1. Arthur’s death (S5E13)

It’s heartbreaking. I’m not denying that. But it’s gorgeous. Colin and Bradley did such an amazing job, and there’s so much love and heartbreak packed into those few minutes, and I actually don’t know what I can say about how much I love it other than just look at it.

[thetreefairy]

Platonic Aizawa and Present mic where reader was doing a patrol with a few friends of class 1A and Hitoshi and something happens and reader gets trapped with this hero that panicked saving their self and left reader for dead.

Did I make this while in a depressive episode yes, so if its more like comedy then angst hehe-

Kofi

Warnings: implied murder, class 1-a tells erasermic what happened much to the heroes dismay, Reader wakes up kidnapped, class 1-a is also a yandere.

It was Reader’s first mission together with Hitoshi and Uraraka. They were incredibly excited, especially since they were with their favorite hero: NYX. “We will be doing a rescue mission, if you sense any danger get out of there.” Nyx told them. “Take care of each other. [Hero name], you are with me.”

“Understood!” Reader agreed happily. “Stay safe.” Hitoshi whispered in his sibling’s ear as they separated. “I will.”

Well, Reader tried. During the rescue mission they were caught by villains, and NYX left Reader and the victim as the main villain made the building collapse. Reader used their body to protect the victim causing Reader to pass out.

“[Hero name]? "Please be okay!” the victim shouted. The victim kept shouting for help and help.

“Where is Reader?” Hitoshi asked NYX when he saw them come out alone. “They were supposed to be behind me.” NYX lied, turning around in fake concern. “Where are they?” Uraraka asked, feeling nervous.

“Uraraka, call Eraserhead. I will deal with NYX.”

When Erasermic had arrived at the scene, multiple heroes were trying to get into the building and get Reader. Uraraka made the ruins float and when Tokoyami arrived together with Hawks he used Dark Shadow to lift up wrecks. “Bird!” The victim shouted. “[Hero Name] is injured! Please help! Please!”

“Go to Reader, Hitoshi. We will take care of NYX.” Present mic told his adoptive son. “Fuck them up.” Hitoshi told his dads. Eraserhead just nodded and pushed them away.

“We are going to talk.” Eraserhead told NYX and Present mic started to drag them towards an alleyway.

“Fucking hell.” Hitoshi gasped out when he saw his siblings' injuries. “I am so sorry.” The victim apologized. “You have nothing to say sorry for.” Hitoshi promised her. “Hitoshi, go with Reader into ambulance. We will give Eraserhead and Present Mic the location.”

Hitoshi nodded at Uraraka.

When Reader woke up they were in a  hospital-like room. But when they looked out of the window they saw that they weren’t. It looked like Aizawa’s home scenery.

“Shouldn’t I be in the dorms?” Reader mumbled out loud. “Reader!” Hizashi shouted happily and hugged them. “You woke up.”

Hizashi started crying as Aizawa, Hitoshi and Uraraka rushed in. Luckily there was a lot of room. “What the fuck is going on?” Reader mumbled out. “Papa, why am I here instead of a hospital? Is Miss Butterfly okay?”

“Miss butterfly is okay.” Hitoshi told Reader. Class 1-a nodded and Uraraka said: “She is alright, she gave me this letter to give to you.”

Uraraka showed Reader the letter and then put it down on the desk. “she was really sad when we told her you wouldn’t become a hero.” Hitoshi chuckled as Aizawa petted your hair. “Wait, why wouldn’t I become a hero?”

“Don’t worry Reader! Class 1-a will visit a lot!” Uraraka said in a comforting tone. “Now hold on, who said I won’t be a hero?”

“We did.” Aizawa said. Reader looked at Hizashi. “Mainly me actually.” Hizashi casually said. “Shota thought you would still be able to be a support hero, but you are way too precious for that!”

“What the fuck.”

[morroodle]

Formling Morro AU!

Morro was a normal formling child born in the never realm up until ??? and he got chucked into ninjago at the ripe old age of like 6ish. Something something average homeless kid morro shenanigans Wu adopts him.

Morro knows he's a formling, and he does actually remember a good bit of formling culture, especially the ceremony where kids get their animal form. And he's really sad about it. Being in ninjago and not the never realm and completely separated from all the other formlings he's of course sad cause there's no way he'll be able to do the ritual correctly and he'll never get his animal form

Wu knows Morro's sad and sometime close to when the ceremony is supposed to happen (I imagine it happens on the 12th or 13th birthday or so) Wu gets him talking about it and learns everything he can about the ceremony. Come Morro's 13th birthday he wakes up very sad and depressed and comes out of his room to a whole lot of people. Wu of course, Misako, Garmadon (took a break from evil school to help his brother with his basically son), Mystake, and various elemental masters. Before Morro can say anything Wu reminds him that the journey has to be done in silence. Basically Wu got all his friends to come and help him set up what is as close to the ceremony as could get. It's not perfect and pretty inaccurate but Morro is so happy about it (even if he dosent think it'll work). All the friends give Morro various gifts to help him on his journey, Wu does the little face paint thing (hope I'm remembering that correctly I haven't watched s11 in a while), makes Morro promise (silently) to be safe and come home, and sends him off on his journey to get his animal form

And it works! After nearly a week of traveling Morro gets his animal form, which is obviously a bird. It's similar to one of these things cause they look cool as fuck (they're called bearded vultures) but he probably has a less goofy looking face and not red/orange. Very big birb <3

He comes home and Wu is so proud of his son and everything is good forever (until the prophecy ruins morros life) <3

Haven't figured out the rest of the details yet but it's probably just a modified s5 where Morro is birb and then something something Morro redemption something something wholesome father son relationship <3

Shit ABSOLUTELY happens in s11 when the ninja go to the never realm but I haven't figured out the details yet. Definitely gonna be some fun shit though.

Bonus: wu holding his son <3

[vortexstars]

In the osc it fr feels like all anyone can stomach is the least depth to a character possible like I've been trying to defend taco for YEARS like no girl her looking sad whnenmic left her ISNT MANIPULATION???? THAT'S CALLED BEING SAD???? SHES ALLOWED TO HAVE EMOTIONS???

Also i remember so many people being mad about Nickels joke when blueberry was voted out like "yeah dude just be nicer" and i saw so many people just so angry at that because it was "hypocritical" like yeah... That's the joke. That is the POINT of the joke that is what allows it to land it wouldn't hit coming from someone that's genuinely nice

Also female characters who hang out witj men get watered down SO often to that guys (girl) friend i see it all the time ESPECIALLY WITH CANDLE AND SILVER SPOON like guys please can we not. Can she be an indépendant character

Sorry for the (second) rant in your inbox i have big feels about media literacy in the osc

no dw i have strong feelings to people who lack media literacy

ive only been in the osc for almost 3 years and saying that ive always felt sympathetic with taco is an understatement , you can clearly see that shes genuinely upset that mic left and not because she wanted to use her more, but because she actually LIKED her. She genuinely did care about her and this episode really does prove it and so many other things, this woman literally fucking SHATTERED when being too overwhelmed and people still have the gull to say that she was being manipulative, like please watch the episode again and maybe the entirety of s2 along with it

Also i dont remember the nickel joke very well but i do remember people being pissed off about it like it wasnt just a joke

and oh my GOD DO I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS, one of the main things that contribute to the mischaracterization of female osc chatacters is when they are involved with another character that just so happens to be a man, there are so many examples to this and i think the worst one is the silver n candle arc. I have made multiple threads about these two separately and they both have their own story arcs and their own personalities. Most people [ or shippers ] will just make the two of them be associated with eachother and call it a day, and it pisses me off cause their character are an important thing to understanding the character itself — without knowing or not caring ab those arcs and making those two just be with eachother could lead to even worse mischaracterization from there.

I cannot express enough on how many times ive made posts like this on other websites and it still happens, they are more than just '' Silver having a crush on candle and candle is just the helpful one '', they are so much more. Now dont get me wrong silvercandle is my absolute most favorite ship ever and i will defend them with my life, but ive seen people who hate it make both characters so mischaracterized i start to think that they are just talking about an oc. Even people who like them still sometimes just make them be associated with eachother and claim to know them like their bedroom, they are so much more than that — romantic or platonic, they still have their own story arcs that correlate with eachothers arcs

theres more female characters that get mistreated but ive only seen silvercandle get the worst treatment, every character is their own chatacter with their own goals, own beleifs, own arcs.

i think you can tell who my favorite character is

[bigtittiecomitte]

Episode 7 predictions since it’s 2024

1. N and Uzi kiss scene

This one’s pretty simple, I really want to see them kiss, you want to see them kiss, everyone wants to see them kiss

2. Nori and Yeva flashback scene

I really do think that teaser that Glitch posted is a flashback with Nori and Yeva trying to find the cure too, it would make sense for them too especially with their connection to the Absolute Solver and the camp

The theories are nice but I don’t think that Nori and Yeva would just show up out of the blue randomly especially when they’re supposed to be dead, it made sort of sense with Doll but doesn’t make sense with those two cause why the hell did it take that long to come back, just seems like a flashback to me, also this would be good for some content on what not only were they like but also hopefully mention of Khan and Uzi from Nori’s mouth cause we still have no idea if Nori is even a good guy

3. Separation

It seems like from the trailer that N, Uzi and Tessa are going to be seperated. This would be good for some good sweet character development and how they handle things alone, Tessa might be looking at the dorms? Lockers? Idk what they are but of the patients especially Nori’s and hers might have something deeply puzzling Tessa because she full on slammed the door lol

4. Nuzi confession scene

Should’ve probably put this in first but I’m HOPING that N and Uzi confess their feelings, especially with the fact that they might die I’d be happy if they at least confessed before Episode 8 (the last episode) so we can see them being happy with each other before the angst

5. N shirtless

6. More Tessa scenes

I know girlie is really suspicious at the moment and I absolutely despise her for the whole kill Uzi thing but I actually really like Tessa she’s so quirky and so unaware of things it’s kinda funny

I love you Australian woman I still hate you for the kill Uzi thing tho

7. Fluff moments

As you know I hate angst, it makes me sad ☹️

8. Merch

I hope there’s more merch of characters that never got the chance to have some merch, as much as I love the N and Uzi merch there is not a lot of merch with the other characters like J, Tessa, Cyn, etc

Even V, I don’t want her to be in the episode but I think that she’s gotten at least 5 pieces of merch? Can’t really tell but I hope that J fans do get that plushie

I hope they make more keychains and stickers too, posters would be nice as well or even mats. Just some new pieces of merch instead of plushies, pins and Animatez (as much as I love them, I do hope that’s not all of it)

9. The absolute solver fucks off

I hate the absolute solver my girl could die because of it grrrraahhhhhh 😡🤬

That’s it, like share and subscribe for more content 😎

[tanobatcher]

snowfall

hevy x bartender fem reader

summary: you and hevy have been seeing each other, temporarily putting your relationship on pause when he passes his cadet training and gets sent to rishi outpost for his first assignment. after waiting on his promised return for months, you receive the news you had been dreading.

warnings: profanity, angst, major character death, and suggestive content

this was originally a shortfic on ao3 but it made me sad so i never finished it but i was suddenly overcome with a change of heart and some new ideas. my first tumblr post ever lol so pls be kind.

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Winter is the season of death. A martyr of sacrifice. Although Coruscant manipulates its weather all year round through an artificially engineered system that controls the city’s cycle of life, its citizens experience the cold just as naturally as they will anywhere else. They don’t have to worry about slipping on icy streets or shoveling snow outside of their apartments, though. These few months of frigid temperatures cause minimal damage, only intended to maintain balance across nature’s scale. And yet, this winter is particularly dull for you. Springtime can’t seem to come any sooner, but that isn’t what you are waiting for. It isn’t a new beginning that occupies your mind as time passes like a dragging blur—it is someone from your past who you aren’t sure will remain in your present. Or, even, your future.

“No word from him yet?”

Glancing up, you look at your manager from across the bar top and shake your head. He shrugs in response, clicking his tongue with a lack of sympathy that doesn’t surprise you. Despite running a clone bar in the heart of the city, he isn’t one to attach himself to anyone. Perhaps you can learn from that.

“I told you not to get involved with any customers,” he scolds disapprovingly, “This is war, darlin’. More often than not, these clones don’t come home. That’s why they make a fuck ton of them—”

“He’ll be back,” you interrupt firmly.

Your manager rolls his eyes and saunters away, but not before getting the last word in. “The sooner you’re available again, the better. I can’t deal with any more jealous boyfriend shit when you have a job to do.”

Rather than say anything in defense of your hopeless relationship, you bite your tongue and turn your head away from this conversation. 79’s is quiet at this hour, hardly bustling with the energy that usually starts picking up after sundown. The lack of distracting noise is the last thing you need, though, because the scrambled thoughts crossing your mind are more torturous than any physical blow you can imagine this war wreaks on its soldiers. One of them is the rookie you started dating during the last few months of his cadet training. What began as casual hookups in the backroom of the bar during your night shifts became a full-fledged, committed label when he caused a scene (supposedly) in your honor. You still remember this like it was yesterday.

“What the fuck was that?” You asked him once you cornered him in the backroom after your manager separated the ridiculous brawl that resulted in broken glasses and turned tables.

“He was all over you,” Hevy retorted while towering over you with a wildly untamed glower in his eyes, “You think I was just going to sit around and let that play out?”

You shook your head in disbelief and ignored every step he was taking to come closer to you. “I work here, Hevy. It’s my job to satisfy my customers.”

“Your customers, huh? You fuck all of them, then?”

The words stung more than they should have, but you held your ground and raised your chin to meet his scowl. He was so close that you could have closed the distance by stepping up on your tip-toes just a little. Instead, though, you stared at his annoyingly arrogant face to assess the damages he retained from the fight. They were impressively minuscule, especially compared to the random brother he saw “all over you” in a cozy booth far away from most of the action. A split lip and a bruised jaw were definitely more favorable than a broken nose.

“That’s none of your business,” you eventually replied even though Hevy was the only trooper you had ever taken things this far with.

He raised his eyebrows and took another step closer, prompting you to move back until he had you against the door you locked for privacy. Maybe that was a good call, seeing where this conversation was going. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you maintained the defiance in your eyes as he leaned in so your lips were brushing over each other. This was more anticipatory than teasing, especially because you knew he would give you what you wanted if you asked nicely.

“Don’t say that,” he murmured in a lethally soft tone that didn’t change the fact that he was such a hotheaded nightmare you couldn’t stop dreaming about.

“Why? It’s true…people come here for one thing,” you said without meaning to sound bitter about it, “You wanna know what that is? It’s escape. And my job is to make sure I show everyone a good time, or else, I’ll lose it.”

Sliding a hand across your jaw to grip the back of your neck, Hevy shook his head and replied, “You’re wrong. I come here for you.”

Your insides curled and coalesced with a heat that you pushed away to focus on the matter at hand. “No, stop. I thought we weren’t going to do any of that.”

“Any of what?”

“You know…acting sweet and stuff.”

“You decided that,” he reminded you, squeezing your neck gently, “I didn’t.”

“We’re not together,” you whispered while snaking your hands around his waist to pull him closer until he was completely pressed against you, “You can’t just act like a jealous boyfriend every time someone’s a little friendly with me.”

He dipped his head and nudged your nose with his. “But I wanna be your jealous boyfriend.”

The confession made your eyes go wide before they fluttered shut as soon as he closed the distance between your parted lips. Forgetting all about your previous irritation with him, you kissed him back and didn’t protest when he lifted you up by the back of your thighs for a better angle. It wasn’t the first time you had been in this kind of situation with him, but his embrace felt different as he squeezed your ass and ravished your mouth with an angry intensity that his fist fight didn’t rectify. The words etched in every kiss exchanged were loud and clear even though they weren’t spoken aloud: You were his. It didn’t matter if you had a job to do or not—at least, it didn’t matter to him. A warm possession consumed both of you as you sank into his hold and whimpered quietly, needing to take a breath.

“I’m not supposed to date our customers,” you told him when he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t give a fuck,” he growled before saying, “And stop calling me your customer.”

You licked your lips, tasting some of the blood that had seeped through his wound in the middle of the kiss. He watched you through dark, heavy-lidded eyes and pressed his thumb into your bottom lip, swiping it back and forth so slowly that you felt deprived of something he hadn’t even started.

“You hear me?” He continued when you stayed silent, “Or is that a no?”

“Hevy, it’s complicated—”

“It’s not complicated. Do you want me or not?”

“I do…I like you,” you admitted despite your racing heart, “But there’s so many reasons why we shouldn’t go further.”

“Bullshit. Name one,” he challenged you with a determined glare, “And your stupid ass manager doesn’t count. He can go fuck himself.”

Pursing your lips, you hoped said manager didn’t hear any of this. Exhaling softly, you said, “It’s also just that you’re a soldier, and…you know.”

His stare hardened as he tightened his hands around your body. “You worried about me?”

“I mean,” you sighed and averted your eyes in embarrassment, “I know you’re not done with your training, but soon…what then?”

“Nothing will change for me,” he reassured you, not even thinking about the possibility of death, “I’ll always come back as long as you’re here.”

You wrinkled your nose and pushed at his shoulder a bit with a fist. “Stop being so corny.”

“Why?” He laughed and captured your mouth in a brief kiss, “Is it working on you?”

“No,” you lied against his lips and kissed him deeper while clutching at his back if it meant never having to let go.

He pulled away again, still unsatisfied with the direction of this conversation. Searching your expression, he said, “I’m serious. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want more from you.”

“I thought you just wanted something casual.”

“So what?”

“So, you’re going back on your word?” You pointed out, “That’s not very like you.”

“Yeah, well, I changed my mind, I guess,” he shrugged, “It happens.”

“Not very often. You’re the most stubborn asshole I’ve ever met.”

“Sure, but you like me. You said it yourself.”

Unable to argue with this, you smiled and circled your arms around his neck. The conversation paused as you both looked at each other in silence and just felt every crevice where your bodies were folded together like a permanent attachment nobody could rip apart. If only that were the case, though. You were still worried that committing to this relationship would eventually hurt you, but there was no denying the direction your heart tugged. Drawing your arms inward again, you cupped his face with both hands and caressed the stubble that covered his unique tattoo. He leaned into your touch with a subtle smirk, staring at you almost pleadingly. Desperately.

“Okay, fine,” you agreed, “But you can’t do whatever you pulled out there ever again.”

“No promises.”

“Hevy, I’m serious—”

He rolled his eyes and cut you off with another kiss that you melted into. Nipping at your bottom lip with a tinge of punishment, he whispered, “So am I. You think this isn’t serious to me? I’ve been trying to find a way to ask you out for ages now.”

“Like…a date?” You questioned as your face heated up with a red blush.

“Yeah, a date. Or…whatever you want,” he said carefully.

“I’d like that,” you murmured.

His rigid posture relaxed a bit with his quiet exhale of relief. Smiling slightly, with the left side of his mouth tipped higher than the right, he kissed your forehead and let his lips linger on your skin for a moment. The gentle sensation sent a cascading wave of butterflies through your chest, only subsiding when the moment did as well. The door rattled against your back, paired with your manager’s aggressive barking that commanded you to get back to work if you were done “fucking that clone in there.” Noticing the familiarly dangerous glare that infiltrated Hevy’s eyes, you smoothed your hands across his chest and said, “It’s okay. Just leave it.”

“He’s fucking awful to you,” Hevy frowned, “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” you agreed, “But I’d say he’s more awful to you guys. I don’t know why he runs this place when he doesn’t even respect troopers.”

“Money,” was all Hevy answered, his tone laced with disgust.

To him, there was nothing more honorable than the kind of service he and his brothers provided the Republic—the galaxy, for that matter. As a clone, he felt important and empowered. Not degraded, despite common opinion regarding his controversial identity.

“I guess you’re right,” you nodded and kissed him quickly before he set you down on your feet, “I’ll see you out there?”

“Alright,” he watched you turn around and snuck a glance at your ass before asking, “So, it’s a yes, right?”

Laughing, you looked at him over his shoulder while departing. “Yes, asshole.”

He only chuckled in response as you slid through the crowd, the deep sound reverberating through your body. Even as the memory dissipated, you could still hear it in your ear like a taunting reminder of what you feared you lost…

“Hey,” a trooper’s voice interrupts your thoughts and brings you back to the present, “You’re Hevy’s girl, right?”

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest at the mention of your boyfriend’s name. Focusing your attention on the source of this question, you realize two troopers are standing in front of you across the bar top. One sports a goatee and the number “5” tattooed near his temple, while the other’s face is completely bare. It’s his armor that harbors some sort of decoration with the dark blue handprint spanning across the white plastoid material.

“Yeah,” you answer nervously, “Can I get you anything?”

The pair exchanges a glance before the one who spoke before—the one with the tattoo—shakes his head to your surprise. A gnawing anticipation chews at your stomach as you perceive the distant heaviness in their eyes, only heightening the fear you hope hadn’t already come true.

“Is he here?” You blurt out, “Hevy, I mean.”

Silence. Your vision begins to blur as tears prick your eyes, already reacting to what hasn’t been said. These troopers don’t need to tell you anything—you already know the reason for their solemn visit. Everything, from the grief in their expressions to the stiffness in their shoulders, reveals the doubt you had but ignored out of your love.

“No,” you shake your head, “It’s not true. Tell me it’s not true.”

“He asked us to tell you—” the trooper with the handprint on his armor said grimly.

“Stop,” you interrupt, swiping your falling tears away with shaky fingers, “He’s not—He’s coming back! He said he would come back—”

“He’s not,” the tattooed trooper interrupted, “He wanted you to know that he’s sorry.”

You stare at him in disbelief, unable to control the floodgates of your emotions that were now pouring over after waiting so long for an answer. That’s it? He’s sorry? Of course, you know that he probably couldn’t say anything else, but you didn’t even want to think about the circumstances of this awful turn of events. The permanence of his absence hurts more than anything else—it hurts so much that you can’t even breathe. Your chest tightens and constricts from the inside out, crushing your soul with the knowledge that Hevy is gone forever. And there is nothing you can do to change this truth.

“Okay,” you say, your voice strangely level all of a sudden as your entire body goes numb, “Thank you for telling me.”

The troopers who delivered this message look at you sympathetically, to which you can only respond with a forced smile that acknowledges their pain as well. If they knew Hevy, they must be grieving, too. Your mind is blank as you push away from the bar top and sling your thin jacket over your shoulders despite your shift that still needs to be completed. Not caring about that at the moment, you find yourself outside 79’s where a fake flurry of snow immediately meets your tear-streaked face. It feels so cold. You long for a warmer day that will engulf your shaking body and ease your sinking heart with a whisper of what you just lost. Or, what never belonged to you in the first place.

Such is the cost of war, which you knew but chose to defy. And now, you realize the cost of this ignorance. This audacity. This bravery. All of which you can find in him and that smug attitude you miss so dearly. Even though you have been thinking about him for a while, ever since he told you he was leaving for Rishi, you could hold onto the hope that he would return. Not anymore, though. This comfort is now gone, replaced by a void that swallows you whole as you fall to your knees and brace your hands against the frigid ground dotted with more snowflakes than you can count. There are so many that catch in your skin, just like there is an infinite amount of people who can fill this emptiness in your heart. Except, that isn’t true. Your soul is already searching for what is long gone—not what can come to be. Because springtime doesn’t interest you anymore. You wish to stay in this desolate winter if it means remaining close to his memory, as close as you can possibly be. But it’s not close enough. It never will be.

“You know something?” He once asked you as you both lay awake in your bed with your bare skin pressed together.

“Hm?” You replied, sliding into his arms when they beckoned for your embrace.

“I’m gonna be an ARC trooper.”

You laughed at this, knowing he was still a cadet at the time. “You haven’t even finished your basic training.”

“I know,” he dismissed, “That’s besides the point. I’m gonna be the best fuckin’ ARC trooper the Republic’s ever seen. I’m pretty much already there—just needs to be official.”

Smiling up at him in admiration, you kissed him on the cheek and replied, “I believe it.”

“Yeah?” He grinned at you and shifted his body so that you were now under him, “You believe in me?”

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded with a serious expression, “The Republic is lucky to have you.”

“Aw, you flatter me. You’re not just saying this ‘cause you want another round, right?”

Staring up at him, you pretended not to notice how his hand slid between your legs to caress your inner thighs. “Of course, not. I really do think you’ll do a lot of good, Hevy.”

“Another round would be nice, though,” you added in a hushed whisper as you tugged him down for a kiss that he gladly reciprocated with an amused chuckle that warmed your heart.

A sob wracks your body as you realize you will never hear that laugh or feel the pressure of his kiss ever again. You will never humor his dreams that he deserved to achieve but couldn’t because of the heroics he just had to pull on Rishi. That was Hevy, though. A force to be reckoned with, so powerful that you often pause and wonder what kind of fuel ignites his distinctive fire. If anyone could have become an ARC trooper, it would have been him. It would have been him.

When you lift your head and stare up at the cloudy, gray sky, more snow whitens your cheeks with a biting intensity that makes you shiver. It falls on top of you, around you, and everywhere you can imagine. Because that’s what happens when you shoot too close to the stars—you fall. And you can only hope that someone or something catches you before the darkness consumes your being and seals your fate into a lingering whisper that nobody will remember.

[mar3ggiata]

professional help, c31. Four or five.

simon riley x original character.

trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, EDs and death.

song to listen to when reading this: Lo que puede, puede. Ca7riel, Paco Amoroso.

abstract: Simon here. You're following the story alright? Good, cause I'm not. Getting more and more confusing and everywhere I go, she's following. I can't get her to stop invading my space, it's getting repetitive.

'Oh yeah?' What a stupid fucking thing to say, Simon get it together. She looked at him, beautiful, tired siren eyes, beautiful long lashes, sad gaze. She nodded. She knew his family was dead, she knew cause he told her. How they died, she didn't know. Addiction? Something else? 'Yes, 'twas a…', lie Alba, '…drunk driver'. He nodded, his eyes still on her. He felt sorry. Why didn't she talk about her family more, why did she move away? Why was she so far from home? 'It's tough.' That's all he could say. I lost all my family, he could have said. But how do you explain something like that, how do you even say it out loud? How can someone like her understand what happened to him, how can someone like her comprehend. What happened to him was out of this world, his family, death, the bodies, what he had been through. It wasn't the same, sure losing a family member was awful, but it wasn't the same. They weren't the same.

He got up from the chair, taking a step away from her. He couldn't even look at her, he mumbled something about not staying at the base at night. And he was gone. She wasn't mad, she wasn't offended. She cursed herself for saying that thing about her brother, wanting him to feel like he could share parts of his past. It was probably too much, too soon. But still, if he wanted to, he would. Especially after throwing that tantrum at her place on the 24th. Don't expect me to listen to you bitching and moaning about my lifestyle and your brother and not wonder about it.

She went home soon after, she wasn't concentrating on her tasks, she was too tired. A walk with the dog, dinner, a shower. Things were only getting more complicated. She laid in bed trying to put the pieces together, the gentle snoring of the dog in the other room, the wind outside the window. How she was gonna manage to stay on top of things and stay sane, she didn't know. She had a meeting with Price on Thursday, three days after her chat with Simon. Didn't go well. She was sitting with her back straight, hair in a slick bun. She had a skirt on, a turtleneck, big chunky glasses. Her, Roman and Honey were academics in a room full of soldiers and men of war. With their stupid dictionaries and stupid papers, all written in gibberish. Price was mad. Honey, who took control over the situation, was trying to explain their findings to the captain. Behind the three, stood Scotland, Simon and Kyle, along with two other people. Scary stuff, it felt like they were being interrogated. They got new information about the mission. First of all, the Serbian group was talking about transportation. They were talking random numbers, they all suspected drugs. 160 grams per unit, 663 grams per unit. They started wondering which substance they were talking about, since the shipping was intended to reach different countries, and it was going to be pricy. One hundred thousand per unit. Cocaine, meth?

'So you have no idea what we're dealing with?' asked Price.

She was fed up with the captain verbally abusing her and her colleagues, so she spoke, 'You know, they're not talking about shipping tons of heroine like they're talking about football captain', she was raising her shoulders, 'They're discreet.'

'Okay, what are you suggesting we do then, Jude? You guys have made no progress.'

She stopped him again, 'We did, we just told you…' she pointed at Roman's notes in front of her, 'they're shipping single units in separate containers, they're using trucks to make separate shippings, we know it's something expensive…'

She was calm, collected, she was fucking hot as hell. Simon stared at the back of her head as she controlled the room, she was assertive. She was tense, he could see the muscles in the back of her neck. 'You have two days', Price had said. When she got up from the chair she was too mad to even acknowledge him. She turned towards the other two translators, he didn't know who they were. They said something in italian he thought, they all knew italian? They left together. All three.

She didn't even look his way. What, cause she was pissed at Price it meant she was pissed at him as well? What did he do? He thought they could maybe talk, she could share more of what they found... Maybe these two new friends she was working with were taking his place, she didn't need him anymore. He watched her leave the room like they didn't know each other, and he felt a strange pressure on his chest. She didn't look his way, like she didn't care that he was in the room. And she was the only thing he was concentrating on every time they were together so... What a shame.

It all happened so fast, one random Tuesday at 5pm. Honey tapped his hand on the desk three times, she immediately turned around, getting tangled in her headphones. Roman spilled some tea in the attempt of running from his desk to Honey's. 'Shit shit shit', someone whispered. Honey took off his headset, turning up the volume so that everyone could hear. It was a male voice speaking, he was speaking broken English.

'At four, пет, не знам.'

She glanced up at her colleagues. She understood what they said. They said 'four or five'.

'They want job clear and fast, да, добро'. Clear.

Honey was scribbling on a piece of paper, trying to get everything down as the man spoke.

'Read that, да, not many men. како се каже, English… code, secret. Secret.'

He went on for a minute, when he finished they all went back to their stations, at the speed of light. The reason was, if some soldiers went to different rooms to speak about the attack that was just announced they could share thoughts and information, they had to be at the top of their game for the next thirty minutes. She put on her headset, trying to calm the beating of her heart that she thought could explode out of her chest. She heard Serbian, she heard English. Someone said Видим се. See ya, that was the translation. 'Alright…' someone whispered.

'Oh, oh porca troia raga…', that was the clue for Honey and Roman to quickly turn towards her.

Her eyes luminescent, her ears burning, quick fingers typing on the Word document in front of her.

'A job at four or five, don't know the date, they're shipping something to Iran, circa 20thousand maybe more, cocaine and something else, but I'm not sure…' It was Madison, she guessed, referring that information to them. He was whispering into the recording device, speaking quickly so that he could leave that spot without being suspicious. 'Sending you a copy of the paper, gotta go, they have prisoners, poor people, they're all sitting in a room…they're killing them, they want to kill them…' He soon after stepped out of the toilet.

She finishes writing, and got up. She looked at the two other people in the room, just as surprised and shocked as her. Shocked and happy, they finally got something. Shocked at what they just heard, people, prisoners…

'Job at four or five, are they selling drugs?' Roman asked. 'To Iran?' She tried, Honey understood immediately what she was on about. 'No way! Fuck, poor people in a room?' He covered his mouth with his right hand. She had never heard him swear, or lose composure. 'Honey, they're doing something for the Iranian at four or five, they're paying them to do something.' She got up from her chair. Poor people in a room…

'Holy shit…' That was Roman.

'I thought they were gonna attack them, sell the drugs at higher price'

Poor people in a room…

'Hold on, sorry…' Roman got up as well, a piece of paper in his hand. 'What we heard on Sunday, about the shippings. They're selling stupid amounts, look…' He got closer to the others, a paper with translations and calculations in hand. 'They're shipping to loads of countries, nearly 5 pounds, 4 hundred thousand for 5 pounds of what, heroine? Why are these prices so high?'

'Cause they're not talking about drugs. It's the poor people in the room.' She got it.

Her blood went cold. It was true, they had been going on about refrigerated containers, moving trucks that could fit tons and tons of materials inside, too large to go without being checked, too risky to use for a bit of marijuana. They were dealing with larger objects. Pricier material, fewer pieces. They had people to kill… No… They had prisoners, people in a room. The Iranian paid them cause they had the people. She clicked her tongue, shook her head. This was above them, this was… too much. It was the people.

'It's organs. It's organ trafficking.'

'Oi are you even listening?' Ghost turned his head towards the voice on his right, Johnny was walking beside him heading towards the hangar. 'Wot?' He said, an annoyed tone. 'I asked how many?' He wanted his head to explode, he had a migraine, he was tired, Johnny was speaking… 'How many what?' He raised his voice. He had things to do, reports to finish, he had to pack cause he was about to leave, and he didn't even know if he was deployed, they just told him 'in case we need help' and it was fucking stupid, did I mention he was tired? 'How many units per container, why are you not listening?' He rolled his eyes, they were walking towards Kyle. 'They're late cause of a bloody sandstorm', he informed. They had to wait for all the soldiers who were still in Al-Jareena to come back, they would have a meeting with Price and apparently Shepherd was back for a while.

'Where's Thomas?' Johnny asked, Kyle shook his head. 'Couldn't make it again, he still has problems with his back.'

'Ah shit'

'Oi, did you get that email about that human rights convention and what not?' They were walking beside him, they were not shutting up. He craved his bedroom, his childhood bedroom in the UK, he craved silence, he craved warmth of a fireplace and a steak…

'Did you get it L.t.?' I didn't. I don't care. He said no.

'You never answered my question, I was trying to do the math'

'What question?'

'How many units of drugs per container did they say, heroine or cocaine, cause the weight would be different...'

'I don't know, whatever Alba said.'

The ceiling collapsed, the floor crumbled under his feet, his body falling though the abyss of Hell. Blood rushing to his ears. He watched as the two men's faces went from shock to fear. They stopped in their tracks.

'What the fuck?'

'Who the fuck is Alba, mate?'

'How do you know?'

'No way, Jude is Alba?'

'No fucking way, it's her you've been seeing?'

'What do you mean, you're going out with her?'

Before he could register the immense mistake he had made, he heard a voice. A sweet, sincere voice. He heard the voice he normally heard in his dreams, in his mind. The two men were soon forgotten, she was coming his way. 'Hey!' She shouted. She stood in the middle of the hangar, making a few men turn towards her. Her, in all her grace, her dark aura, her aura of power and knowledge. She looked pale, she looked… she was crying? She looked scared. Watching all three soldiers stop and look at her, she signalled them to follow her with a single nod of her head. Come with me, that was the signal. 'All three' She said. They followed like they were some damn dogs.

'Are you out of your mind!?' Price's voice was loud, his hands on his hips. They were inside the listening post room, him, Johnny, Gaz, the captain and the three scientists. 'What?' She raised her voice as well, he had never heard her like this before. 'Literally, what is your problem?' She spoke to the captain, crossing her arms. Price went on for a few minutes scolding the three academics. The accusations and the theories on organ trafficking were serious, and they had always talked about drugs, why were they abandoning that route? 'Because it makes the most sense, captain.' Tried Honey. He showed Price the list of all the weights and measurements they had heard about, which, as they discovered, fit quite perfectly the average weight of kidneys, lungs and hearts. 'That explains the refrigerated containers', she chirped in. 'And the prices', Soap, unexpectedly, gave her a nod of credit. 'And the poor people', finished Honey.

They explained it wasn't rare for poor people to get into situations such as organ and human trafficking. They could make a lot of money, they were easy to convince, easy to manipulate and desperate. It all started to make even more sense when they found information in Serbian news articles online about people disappearing in the latest few months. They found many individuals started reporting to be victims, or suspect family members to have had illegal surgeries for organ trafficking. 'They said they're receiving a note with a code of some sort', she was standing on Simon's right, near her desk. Her hair was messy and undone on her shoulders, she glanced at the time on her phone from time to time. Have you got somewhere to be? 'Probably containing information on when the shipment might be made, or what to do with the people they're gonna take the organs from'. The room was filled with silence. It was sad, really. They were glad they made the discovery, but overall, not good news. Price crossed his arms, looking down at his feet. It was clearly more than they were expecting. Simon would't take his eyes off Alba. He was proud, he was sad she had to deal with this tremendous job. She looked at him. He gently tilted his head foreword, as to say, you're good. He didn't know why it was so important for him to let her know that he supported her. She gave him a small smile. He felt they were feeling the same emotion somehow.

'Will you be able to translate the code?' asked Price.

'Sure, yes, we'll do everything we can.' Honey.

Price sighed.

'Good work.'

notes: massive chapter, sorry!!!

taglist:

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

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[ablobwhowrites]

Well then, lemme just-

You know how some teens try to act all tough and serious so they can look cool and "mature for their age" but in reality are a complete sweetheart (and maybe a scared cat/crybaby too lol) and all of the adults there know this bc they knew/know them since their parents had them? Yeah<3

Reader: Nothing scares me😎, I'm awesome just like that-

Kevin: Oh! Hey Y/N, how are y-

Reader: *high-pitched scream*

When Reader discovered what Bob had done it probably hit them HARD. They thought he was the COOLEST dude on the neighborhood who always gave them free food after hard days at school and would let them hang out at his work when their parents were away, now you are telling them that police discovered that he was a killer?? That gotta be a very hurtful event, especially if you are a kid.

So they kind of created this fake version of themselves to make it seem that they were over it and that it actually didn't affect them, they became this "too cool for school😎" teen who didn't have any feeling besides "chill" and "stoic". Which ends up making some of the people they grew around worried, they know why they became like this but nobody has the guts to confront them about it, knowing how the topic hurts them

Lila: So...do you want to talk about Bob-

Reader: Why would I? I don't care about what happened 😎

Lila: Well then...take your glasses off please?

Reader: 🤏😎....🥺

Bob(after escaping prison) probably wouldn't recognize them at first, only when they start to cry and beg for him not to kill them is when he notices that the teen in front of him is that kid who would always hang around when he was working. At that moment he kinda freezes, he can't believe it! They look so different! He tries to calm them down, telling them that it's only him, Bob! You remember him... right?

They just look so small and sad, there is this voice in the back of his head telling him to hug them and never let go, to comfort them like a parent comforts their child after a bad dream...and that's exactly what he would have done...if they hadn't ran away.

(idk man, just want Bob to be a platonic yandere to this teen who tries to act all tough but is absolutely terrified of him lol.)

(SORRY THIS IS SO LONG LOL)

(I love when anons or anyone explains and expresses their creativity and I'll make this into head canons with a tad of shitpost)

bob would have books on how to raise a teenager and other stuff. He does go out of his way to get you good animal meat sense you don't really have a wanting for it, which is fine but will the police on his ass and all

Bob does make dad jokes with a mix of cannibal humor in. Plus seeing you try to be cool but in reality a scared little kid makes him feel like a dad trying to raise a toddler who is afraid of their own shadow....he is convinced you are afraid of your own shadow, bob tries to make his house kinda child proof after hearing about how kids (which he kinda feels like you are) get hurt or almost get poisoned by things in the house or around the house so he trys everything to keep you from hurting yourself

He wears glasses....no one can change my mind, and bob does let you make friends. Well after he has you calm down after the fact he is a mass cannibal serial killer in a fucking devil costume, he is not above carrying you plus he wont spoil you a lot just at the beginning so you can at least calm down to know your not going to die....one time you went to go get a drink form the fridge at night and didn't know which fridge bob kept the drink (cause I headcanon he puts his drink and the dead bodies in two separate fridges cause he doesn't want you to get sick or just because your not use to the smell of dead corpses of victims old and new) and you open the wrong fridge and a fresh dead body falls out onto the floor your just use to it and shove the body back into the fridge and forget your drink.

Bob isn't bothered by you being gay or trans, pansexual ect. But he will need to see who your dating cause he wants the best for you....he makes "hi gay I'm dad" joke when you came out because you're his 'kid' and he will try to poke fun at any time he gets the chance, if you want to date two people that's okay but I feel like bob knows we're everyone lives in the town so he will get on his devil costume and go outside to check if your boyfriend/girlfriend is cheating on you and if they are....then oh boy he busting in and kill them.

You guys know when your trying to show your parents something on your phone and they do that looking far away from the screen to see it?....yeah bob has to grab his glasses and does that plus when he's cooking meat he knows how to season and make good ass hamburgers

[prettysweetprettysweet]

I really, honestly thought I wouldn't be upset when my stepdad dies and I'm kind of bowled over by my feelings right now. I don't know how but apparently I can hate someone while also being deeply sad at the concept of their imminent death. I'm shocked that my instinct is to have sympathy for him and how so much of his life was difficult or unrealized, how he suffered as a child and never had the love or support he needed to battle all the things that turned him into such a horrible and abusive person as an adult, never introduced to the concept of self-improvement, didn't have any tools to begin with to better himself.

the abuse throughout my life and his inaction as an adult to make any effort to be a better person was entirely his fault but his default state of emotional and mental disarray was largely the fault of caregivers who didn't actually care about him and his health, or even really conceive of him as a person with his own inner life, thoughts, and workings. he clearly has always had some sort of emotional disorder and severe depression, but no one cared enough to address it even though his quality of life was abysmal. he was neglected, and wasted so much of his life in a state of violent anger.

there were rare instances where a situation and his behavior was so horrid that I would lose my instinct for self-preservation and fight back with a frightening intensity despite the consequences, and sometimes it caused him to become overwhelmed and start crying. my rage and indignation would disappear because all of a sudden id feel like I was looking at a toddler who didn't have any framework for regulating their emotions, only just barely beginning to learn how to think, feel, or act like a human. all I could feel was pity for him. as I got older one of my coping mechanisms was to regard him and his daily rages like a toddler with their first toothache having a tantrum because they can't conceive of why where and how they're hurting.

I'm both deeply sorry for the many, many ways the world failed him when it mattered most (especially because I too am cursed with genetically inherited mental illnesses, but I was able to get treatment for them), and deeply hateful of him - the person he was who made the childhood of my brother and I such a terror and caused us to be permanently separated from each other (to such an extent that my brother and i have only just started recovering our relationship, 20 years later), and the person he is now who has never done a single thing in the interest of helping us heal or contend with our trauma, almost as if none of it ever happened.

It's so fucking crazy. I don't want anything to do with him or this process of dying and being put to rest, but at the same time I'm scared that those who are dealing with this won't show him the sympathy needed to make his passing easy. we never had anything even close to a sentimental attachment throughout my life, and for the most part I spent my youth trying to avoid being in the same space as him. after everything, why do I want him to die easily?

[punkboyjack]

The shit lie of SRS in Iran

So it's a something stuck in my brain ( and my life ) that I think people need to know about it is the thing about LGBTQ+ people in Iran especially T because I'm trans and it's little too much complicated in iran

Bing trans in Iran has some benefits in look but it's a lie

We are known as mentally ill people

We have the same problems as any other LGBTQ+ person in the world but with a higher rate

Most of the time, they give strong psychedelic drugs and hormones to trans children ( or just LGBT childrens )

And I was so paranoid about it that I wouldn't take any of the psychiatrists' pills when I was depressed (my parents don't know that I just got better somehow and no one doubt about it)

The Iranian government also monitors online transgender communities, often subjecting them to censorship, and police routinely arrest trans people

Unfortunately most Iranian parents like boys so trans woman's are badly treated almost 92% of trans women in Iran faced verbal or emotional violence and over 70% had faced physical violence

And the rate of murder and attempted suicide among trans people in Iran is high (mostly trans women).

and that really sad bcz one of the trans woman's that a used to know have Ben send to who knows where for the military training by her dad because ( HE was not man enough)

1_pre surgery is hell : we go on a all girl / all boy schools and I think it's like Catholic schools over there

And people don't respect us we mostly have problem finding friends we don't have the From the social point of view, it is almost impossible to identify ourselves as transgender because the government has strictly separated men and women. I didn't really know what my problem was until I was 13 years old

Worst and most important part is telling our parents that we are trans and they should support us because all the work of the license is done with the consent of the family and even one of Iranian actors (Maziar Lorestani) had to wait 56 years until his father passed away and he was finally able to take HRT just think about it you are a 56 years old person a total mature and you can't do it without your father permission and don't forget they are totally free to rather kill you or throw you at the streets to rot

2_ the surgery is chipper here (it's a lie ) -> we spent Soo much money and time ( and mental health) on permission to do surgery and most of people who do this surgeries are not even have expertise in this work And they have long-term side effects that are not good at all

first submitted to a long and invasive process

including virginity tests ( idk whyyy)

formal parental approval ( I told you)

, psychological ( it's just the worst part you can't imagine how terrible this psychologists are )

inspection by the Family Court ( like a god damn criminal )

If we don do the HRT step by step we are basically nothing to them and Thay don't give a fuck about us unless we did something wrong or something and then we are basically dead as hell

Like let's say you are a heterosexual trans men who don't want to do a surgery and you have girlfriend who loves you and respect's you

Will no you don't you are just a lesbian to them and will if they found out what's between your legs you and your gf are going to be executed I'm not joking

3_After surgery, is hard as hell : discrimination, from the law, the state, and from the people around us

Given the lowest quality of hormone therapy, we usually do not have reliable sources for it . Surgery under the hands of non-specialists causes dangerous side effects, and if we are imprisoned, we will no longer get hormones

And not so fun fact : Most of the gay people in Iran are recognized as transgender and they have to tell us about the process because otherwise they will be executed. For the government, changing their gender of poor gay people shows a better face than killing them

And yeah rest of your gay life you are just unfortunate person stuck in a person of your own body

Bruh I read it all over and I'm not even close to the realty it's too much