#if i were will id be looking through that mirror constantly

[supranatra]

More wills (and the prince)

[wiishopwednesday]

longing for something you can never return to

[ID: a collection of images relating to nostalgia. the first image is a genius screenshot of the lyrics to car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)." the screenshot reads "We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back/We gotta go back." the second image is the "we got the torture labyrinth tomorrow" meme template, edited to instead say "We got missing what we can never return to tomorrow/What?/We got the beginning of the rest of our lives tomorrow/Ohhhh/Okay." the third image is a discord screenshot, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and reads "Duuudeee you missed out on those 7 days where god created earth you are fucked LOL." the fourth image is a screenshot of a piece of text, which reads in bolder font "You can never leave home." underneath it, in normal text, it reads "You take it with you no matter where you go. Home is between your teeth, under your fingernails, in the hair follicles, in your smile, in the ride of your hips, in the passage of your breasts." the fifth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user ryebreadgf, which reads "YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK! YOU CAN BITE AND SCRATCH AND BEG BUT YOU CAN NEVER GO BACK!" the sixth image is a screenshot of a piece of text that reads, "YOU KILL YOURSELF AND IMMEDIATELY WAKE UP AS A CHILD ON YOUR PARENTS BED. YOU'VE BEEN ASLEEP FOR HALF AN HOUR. THE SUN IS SHINING." the seventh image is a picture of two uneven dark yellow boxed next to each other on a off-white background. the first box reads, in handwriting, "I'm terrified of change." the second box reads, "I'm terrified of staying this way forever." the eighth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user dakotajohnsongf, which reads "women be looking at pictures of their childhood selves and trying to find a way back to them." the ninth image is a screenshot of a post made by tumblr user bestofgentleearth, containing a screenshot from a forum of some kind. a line of text reads "(16 hours ago) butterfly said:" underneath, an indented section of text reads "today, the world looked beautiful again. i'm starting to remember what kept me alive last summer." the tenth image is another tumblr post by user cursedsuggestion, which reads "the friend you miss comes home for good. you never see another mirror. it's summer forever and that terrible thought you keep having finally disappears." the eleventh image is a screenshot of a reddit post, with the original poster's username and icon cropped out so only the text is visible. it reads "I'm not sure how to word this, but I constantly go through this deep sense of loss. I feel like I terribly miss something I love from the bottom of my heart, but I don't know what it is, exactly. Nothing in life satisfies me, nothing makes me content, but l wouldn't say I'm depressed either. There's just this endless search for something, and at times I feel I can catch a glimpse of it - different sceneries pop into my head at times, like of a particular beach at night, and I'm moved to tears. Or I remember a dream and all the feelings that were stirring while I saw that dream, and feel entirely connected to them." the twelfth image is a screenshot of a tumblr post, but the original poster is cropped out so only the text is visible, which reads "wait i wasn't ready. i never finished that game of tag. i still need to learn how to do a cartwheel. my friends and i never finished making that bridge over the creek. i want to go back. can you carry me to bed one last time? and maybe i'll wake up tomorrow in my childhood room with my pink walls and we'll laugh over this dream at breakfast." the thirteenth image is another tumblr screenshot of a post by user heavensghost, which reads "uhhh yh sure u can go back but no one will be waiting for you there."

the fourteenth image is a screenshot of a reddit comment, with the user's information cropped out so that only the text is visible, which reads "HIRAETH (heer-eye-th) 'A deep homesickness; an intense form of longing or nostalgia for a place long gone, or even an unaccountable homesickness for a place you have never visited. A pull on the heart that conveys a distinct feeling of missing something irretrievably lost.'" the fifteenth image is a collection of 3 rows of black boxes, with 3 boxes in each row. the first box has a white, vague form of a human. the second box pictures the human form stretching its arms and legs out. from the third box onward, the human figure starts to dissipate into white dots until it has completely disappeared and only dots remain. the sixteenth image is a tumblr post by user n1ntendos, which reads "I AM HAUNTED BY A PAST I CANNOT GO BACK TO !!!!!!! anyways." the seventeenth image is a screenshot of text that reads "I cling to everything - CDs that skip, rings that turn my fingers green, the dead ends of my hair, old love notes that turn my stomach over and over. And I'm not proud but there are still boxes under my bed. And I'm not proud but my closet is still running out of space. And nostalgia is a fucking waste of time but my heart is full with it. Tell me I won't hold this forever. Tell me there will be a day where I let gloriously go." the eighteenth image is an image of larger text that reads "It's a summer day, and I want to be wanted more than anything else in the world." the nineteenth image is a photograph of a large white dog standing in a dark, flowing river surrounded by a dark forest and green trees. the dog is facing away from the viewer with its mouth open. the dog appears to be glowing, likely due to a lens flare of some kind. the entire picture feels very melancholy and nostalgic. the twentieth image is larger text that reads "Nostalgia is the aching realization that you can't go back again. The longing, no matter how intense, can never be met." the twenty-first image is a screenshot of an instagram dm, with the user's username and icon cropped out so that only the text is visible, and it reads "well the time passes anyway so I have to." the twenty-second image is a screenshot of the spotify lyrics for gerard way's song "action cat." the lyrics read "Hey/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you/Do you miss me?/'Cause I miss you too." the twenty-third image is a screenshot of text that reads "YOUR CHILDHOOD DOG IS ALIVE. YOUR DEAD BEST FRIEND WANTS TO GET COFFEE. YOU HAVE BEEN KIND AND GOOD. THERE IS NOTHING CHASING YOU. YOU CAN SLEEP. WHAT DO YOU DO?" the twenty-fourth image is a continuation of the lyrics from car seat headrest's "famous prophets (stars)" that were pictured in the first image. these lyrics read "We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/We've gotta go back/(Don't spend too much time on it)." end ID.]

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Red Carpet || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

Summary: Tom takes you to your very first movie premiere and it happens to be the movie that he is the protagonist in. A sweet moment happens between the two of you which leaves fans further fangirling over your relationship.

A/n: I have been constantly asked If I will ever do a Tom Blyth x reader imagine and the answer is yes :). Btw I absolutely love @yzzart’s Tom Blyth x actress!reader imagines and you should totally go check them out!

Warnings: none :)

Wc:

Divider by @pommecita

You were beyond nervous and excited to attend the red carpet Premiere for The Hunger Games The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. Especially since you would be attending as your boyfriend’s plus one who happens to play Coriolanus Snow in said movie.

The two of you kept your relationship as private as you could, but at some point along the way of him filming, everyone knew the two of you were together. Your public affection towards each other during the behind the scenes did not go unnoticed by fans who recorded it and took pictures.

It was bound to happen someday. "You look absolutely gorgeous, darling," Tom hugs you from behind, your exposed back flush against his outfit, as he admires your reflection in the mirror. You hold his arms that were protectively on your waist.

"Thank you, Tom. You look as handsome as ever," You giggle, turning around to place your hands on either side of his face, admiring every little detail on his face that you have already noticed about a thousand times, before placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

You two were on your way to the event, his hand never left your thigh as you lean your head against his shoulder. Your phone suddenly buzzed as you look at the caller id. It was Rachel. You immediately answered it as it went through to face time.

"Where are you guys!" She yells in the speaker, loud chatter in the background. She was already at the event. "We are literally around the corner," You say taking a look around your surroundings as Tom chuckles. "Let me see your outfits!" Rachel stares at you with a wide grin.

You laugh at her energy as you pass Tom the phone as he holds it up so that the both of you were on screen. Rachel gasps as she covers her mouth, "You guys look fucking amazing!" She squeals as you chuckle.

"Wait until you see the back of Y/n's dress," Tom lets out a whistle as you nudge him with a smile. "I can't wait to see! Oh wait, I think I see your car pulling up right now. See you soon!" She quickly says before hanging up.

Tom squeezes your thigh, his way of asking if you were alright without any words. You nod with a small smile. You arrived at the premiere and the flashlights coming from the cameras shone through the windows.

Tom steps out first before lending you his hand, aiding you as you get out of the car. He gives you an encouraging smile as you smile back at him. Everyone started screaming when they saw the two of you, causing you to smile even more.

His hand rested on the small of your back as the two of you were whisked into interviews. "Tom! It's so great to see you, we'd like to ask you a few questions if that is alright?" The woman smiles as she passes Tom a microphone.

"Of course!" Tom offers the man a smile. "What was your favourite things about filming this movie?" You stayed quiet as you look at Tom, giving him a smile. "Well, I was super grateful to be able to work with such incredible actors and actresses, Peter and Viola just to name a few, I really enjoyed the atmosphere on set, we were all like family," Your boyfriend answers.

You saw a lot of cameras pointed your directions so you wave and smile, "Would you like to explain to us and your fans who this beautiful girl is beside you Tom?" You snap your attention back to Tom and the woman. Tom smiles as you as you look at the woman. "I think you and everyone already have a pretty clear idea on who she is," Tom laughs as does the woman.

"This beautiful girl is my girlfriend. She's stuck with me during the whole filming of the movie and I'm so grateful that she's mine," He answers, his eyes not leaving yours as he pulls you closer to him. "He's just too sweet isn't he?" You chuckle at the camera making them laugh.

Tom presses a kiss on your cheek as you could feel your face heating up slightly. "You two are just too adorable! Thank you for your time, the woman smiles as Tom hands her back the microphone. "My pleasure," Tom gives her a final smile before the two of you are once again whisked into other interviews, where you would sometimes be included.

Then it was time to take pictures. Tom's hand never left yours as you both stood where they were taking the photos. Tom protectively places his hand on your waist as you both pose for the cameras. You were almost blinded by all the flashing and deaf from the shouting.

The string on the back of your dress suddenly became loose as you curse under your breath. Tom looks down at you before moving to stand in front of you in a protective manner to cover you from the cameras. "You okay?" He asks concerned. I look at him with a smile from his sweet gesture.

"The back of my dress came undone," He looks over your shoulder. He then pulls you into a hug as you were slightly taken back. You then feels his hands working on tying your dress back. You let out a chuckle as you rub his back.

The cameras directly in front of you were confused but the cameras by the side all awed at his actions. "There you go, darling," He kisses your cheek as he pulls back. You give him a grateful smile, "Thank you."

"Y/n! Tom!" You hear a feminine voice call out as Rachel and Josh make their way towards the two of you. "Hi!" You smiled, pulling Josh into a hug and then Rachel. "Oh you look stunning," Rachel holds your forearms as you couln't keep the smile of your face.

"Have you looked in a mirror? You look gorgeous Rach!" You pull her in for a second hug as you all laugh at something funny Josh had said as the four of you pose for a picture.

After the premiere, Rachel sent you so many links to nearly every single social media platform. There were a bunch of posts and tiktoks about what happened with your dress and how Tom helped you by hugging you.

You chuckle as you show Tom the posts and hundreds of tiktoks that had already been posted. "They love you," Tom chuckles, kissing your forehead as the two of you lay in each others embrace.

[five-miles-over]

Hi Mun 👋🏼 just found your blog off some tags lol

I would love it if you could do an age gap hc for joker? How would Arthur deal with developing feelings for a partner who is 10 or even 15 years younger than him?

Thank you so much!

Thanks for your patience, anon! I truly appreciate it. Also, Arthur's head canon turned into a bit of a fic, so I apologize for that.

Headcanon: Arthur Fleck Having an S/O Younger Than Him

"ID Please."

While Arthur accompanied you to the grocery store after your shift at work, you bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with the dinner you planned to cook for Arthur. He was coming over to your apartment for the first time, and you wanted to spoil him with a recipe you saw on a cooking show. So you bought all the ingredients, and a bottle of red.

The cashier glanced at you. "You're twenty-two huh? You look like you should be in high school."

You shook your head, flustered. "Um...thanks?"

After paying, you quickly left the store with your bagged groceries. But just when you reached for Arthur's hand, he flinched.

You didn't think much of it at first, but when you tried to talk to Arthur about something, he simply shrugged it off and said it was nothing

The truth is that, Arthur was still processing the fact that you were in your early twenties.

He knew you were a young beautiful woman, smart and kind. A total catch. And that part of Arthur, the part of his mind that told him he was an outcast and fed him nothing but negative thoughts, constantly said, "She could do so much better than you. You don't deserve her at all. She's the whole package, and what are you? Just some guy who can't even take her out to dinner."

He tried to hold it back as he saw other, bigger guys in Gotham walking with their partners, giving them bouquets of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic and other gifts, telling himself that someday he would do exactly that with you. But knowing that you were at ten years younger than him? That was just more fuel to the fire burning inside him.

"She's got her whole life ahead of her. She's going to find someone better, wait and see." The negative thoughts materialized again. "She's just with you out of pity. Date the sad clown, maybe she just wants to fool around. Wait and see. She's going to meet someone with a lot of money, a lot of status...She'll marry him, and when they're all sitting around at cocktail parties, she'll laugh about the time she dated a sad clown. And say she dodged a bullet."

"Arthur?" You tried to get his attention, and repeated his name a couple of times. "Arthur?"

Arthur, seemingly lost in thought, didn't respond until you stood in front of him, stopping him from crossing the street. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied. You crossed your arms, not having any of it. And this made Arthur laugh a bit, not out of amusement but out of fear. "Nothing, really," he lied again between laughs.

"Just tell me."

After a few moments of silence, Arthur simply asked. "Are you really twenty-two?...You're twenty-two."

"Yes. I am."

"That's young."

You shifted your weight to one foot. "I know that."

Arthur mirrored your gesture and swallowed. "So...well, I don't care. It's just young."

"I'm not that young," you rebuffed.

"Young enough that the cashier thinks you're in high school."

You put your hands on your hips, still carrying the bags of groceries. "Is that what this is about? He wasn't hitting on me!"

"No, but someone will," Arthur raised his voice a little. "You're young, what the hell do you know?"

"I know that you're my boyfriend and I love you. I don't care what some cashier says about me, and neither should you."

He shook his head. God how he loved the way you'd get so stubborn about your opinions. It was one of his favorite things about you, but right now, in this moment, it made him even more annoyed. How could you say such a thing, lying through your teeth? And with those three special words? "Bullshit," Arthur muttered, walking away from you to cross the street.

You followed him, huffing with your groceries. "Arthur Fleck, what is wrong with you?! Can't you just...Why are you so mad? Nothing happened! I'm still the same person I was twenty minutes ago."

"No. You're twenty-two." He turned around and lashed out. "You're twelve years younger than I am. What the hell's wrong with you? Hanging around with some old clown, waiting until some rich guy makes you his wife and you can leave me behind!" Your eyes widened. "Is that what you think of me?" Your lips quivered and tears formed in your eyes. "Is that seriously what you think this is, just...hanging around? Oh my god." You looked down as you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Arthur visibly softened, reaching his hand out but stopping himself just before he could touch you. "I'm such an idiot," you sniffed. "You're right, what do I know?" "I'm sorry," Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Arthur looked down, into your eyes. "I...was just shocked that you were younger. I thought it would...I don't deserve you. You're great, you're a perfect girl and I don't deserve you." He added, "I love you so damn much."

"I love you too," you looked up. "And I don't want to leave you." He laughed for a few moments with pain in his eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek to quiet down. "I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated and put his hands on your shoulders. "Oh my god, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He took your grocery bags in his hands. "Let's go."

You and Arthur went back to your apartment, and didn't talk about your age for the rest of the night. But you did spend the evening together, telling each other - and showing each other - how much you really loved each other.

Joker Having an S/O Younger Than Him Would Include...

In complete contrast to Arthur, Joker finding out you were ten or fifteen years younger than him would excite him

He'd turn it into a complete kink, calling you his "personal little baby doll"

Whenever you'd go out, you'd be on his lap, him stroking your thighs and your hair.

Unless you were absolutely against the aesthetic, Joker would love to dress you in coquettish clothing - plaid mini skirts, knee-high white socks, white and pastel blouses that he would ruin with grease facepaint while making out with you, and corsets he would rip off you before having his way with you

And if you ever called him "daddy"? Watch out and be prepared to be dragged into the most private area by the Joker. Hope you didn't have any plans for the next...hour

In general, the Joker would be extremely protective of you, keeping his arm around your waist while you walked.

He'd spoil you with anything you ever wanted, acting almost like your sugar daddy while you window shopped.

And when it got cold, he'd put his red suit jacket over your shoulders saying, "Daddy's not going to let his baby doll freeze."

[astradyke]

I would adore a deep dive into your thoughts on Phil’s quiet but wonderful way of showing his love for Dan being through photos

hi, i’m sorry i’m responding so late to this, but i really appreciate you enabling me here because i do seriously think about this constantly. i don’t know if i have the words to articulate it, though, so… bear with me. i'd quite like to try.

nobody loves in just a singular way, that’s the preface to this. when i say that Dan loves through words and Phil loves through photography, i don’t mean that Dan doesn’t use photography as an act of love— because there is a polaroid, in their house, of Phil that Dan took— and i don’t mean that Phil has never said something profound about Dan, because we all remember how he talked about Dan’s book at the end of the haircut video (19:13). i, at the very least, never really left the parts at the end of what Dan and Phil Text Each Other 2 where Phil constantly amplifies the work Dan is trying to do, unmasking his own frustrations at the struggles Dan has to experience, and meets Dan's self deprecation with affection (here's that dissertation) (19:57). Dan may use words in a very abstract, artistic way, professing his love for Phil as a ‘soulmate’, an unmatched connection, but Phil still has a careful, casual way of endlessly maneuvering himself to stand by Dan’s side. etc. and of course, there are five thousand other ways to adore a person. Dan and Phil do a little bit of everything; we are lucky to see a spare few snippets.

all that said, let’s talk about photography, yeah?

there is a permanence to photography, even if it’s not always a tangible permanence. they are timestamps, living commitments; i refuse to accept the idea that photography is somehow a ‘stand in’ to ‘true human connection’, rather than a critical facet of it. ex. i know that my best friend is real even if i didn’t have a photo of him sitting beside me on a wayward bus, but it’s still important that i inscribed that memory distinctly into the fabric of my life by taking a moment to chronicle it.

Phil Lester uses photography as a way to immortalize a thousand different fragments of his forever with Dan. there’s a distinct thought process, right, to see someone you love and decide— i never want to lose this moment. that decision, in of itself, is enough of a love confession, but there’s another layer when you decide, on top of all of it, i want the entire world to see this. when Dan described his love for Phil as "more than just romantic", he opened up a piece of himself to show the world, this is how i love this person. this is how i see him. when Dan calls Phil bubby, or dear, this is him cracking a hard exterior to say this is how i see you.

the two of them, upon first meeting, took a selfie together at the Apple store— Phil was the one to press the button. when they sat at the top of the sky-bar, Phil was the one to take a photo of Dan amidst the golden hour light. maybe he didn’t know that Dan loved him back, yet, but he had a certainty in his own adoration of Dan— that regardless of whether Dan wanted him back, Phil wanted him. the image feels timid but assured, like swallowing down anxiety to look yourself in the mirror; you can feel that through the pixels of it, so transparently. Phil’s love of Dan was not conditioned on anything: it was a terrifying but beautiful thing, and he wanted to preserve it, so even if it all went wrong he could say this is how i loved you. this is how you are loved, to me. you don’t have to want me back, but know that you were wanted, here, crawling into your own head sitting across from me in a city i’d like to call home with you, someday. so let me. and when you look at this photo of heart eyes Howell, cradling a bear, it’s louder than a blood rush: i love you.

[ID: Dan Howell sitting in the sunlight, looking outside the window while holding his phone. end ID.]

[ID: Dan Howell in a fuzzy hat, holding a stuffed bear against his face and looking at the camera with a small smile. end ID]

(sorry. it was necessary to include).

every year, Phil spills this oath into his camera roll. when Dan’s birthday arrives, Phil has a thousand candids to show for it, a thousand of silly and unflattering photos— a “loving” selection (7:41). exposing my heart a little here, but when you are someone who struggles with insecurity at some level, photos of you that are unflattering circling around feels horrifying. you want to be composed, and pretty, and loved— but then, maybe, it settles in that you are loved someplace beyond conditions. Phil chronicles these casual, vulnerable moments with Dan, and he shares them, because he loves Dan to a level past the flat logic of if he is composed, if he is pretty, then he is loved. Dan may be unattractive at points, but he is never unloved. never again.

these photos also demonstrate how much Phil romanticizes the little moments with Dan. watching him play Skyrim in VR; sitting beside him while he plays Elden Ring (3:40); admiring an oddly-shaped tear in his pants (missing citation); taken aback by a large poodle jumping into his lap. there are hundreds of photos of Dan taken by Phil which have escaped. imagine how many more linger. if we can go off of this (admittedly horrifying) tweet, we can envision a camera roll overflowing with him.

when they go on vacation, Phil takes soft photographs of Dan. here’s this love in a new city, just like we did fifteen years ago in Manchester, before i knew the right way to hold your hand, the right way to counter your cynicism, the right way to systemically reject every pet name because saying your name like a promise is enough— i’m putting this love into the world because i no longer live in a world where i go a second without it. Phil saves photos of Dan looking at him like he hung the stars, and he saves photos of Dan walking in front of him— he would never save them, as an Orpheus, but thankfully he doesn’t have to anymore, not after 2019— and he saves photos of Dan happy, because he wants to save that, too. Phil will save photos from every era of Dan’s life, but he wants those photos the most.

Phil has seen Dan perform in front of thousands. he has seen Dan pass out from standing up too quickly in their living room. he has seen Dan stumble home from a unexpected solo walk, he has seen Dan try to hide his fear-to-death in Phil’s childhood bedroom, he has seen Dan try to use a laundry machine, he has seen Dan in every way a person could: i love you.

Dan knows all of this. Dan sends Phil photos of himself when he’s solo traveling for his tour; the two of them almost never call, not unless Dan’s in a cab, but they regularly facetime. Dan winces at old photos of himself, but Phil coos at them.

Phil Lester is a romantic. he likes to hold his love to his chest— sharing photographs, but careful not to share too much. i think we under-estimate the shift Phil had to make, sometimes, in 2019: coming out was a major deal to him, too, even if he had already been out to some. more than that, coming out while Dan was also out is a very different experience. still, he likes to stay private, which is why we’ve not seen what i imagine to be hundreds of photos of Dan in Phil’s arms, or Dan kissing him on the cheek, or Dan asleep beside him in his bed (because we know how often he takes photos of Dan asleep, but i can't even begin to get into that right now).

even still, from what we can see, God, it’s everything, isn’t it? i can’t imagine what it felt like, for Dan, first trying to reconcile all of this. when you go so long without experiencing a safe kind of love, your reality fundamentally shifts. everything is brittle: you have to be hard enough to survive it, but not too hard to break the little you have entirely. half of you is a secret, the other half of you feels like it should be— who you are shifts, when you are loved, so in the reverse: when you go so long without it you feel displaced internally. when you find that love, you throw yourself entirely into it, expecting nothing but wanting everything. you punch a wall only to feel the plaster cradle your touch; you tell yourself you’d never turn back and you hate that need to; you expect to hit the sea but the wax never seems to melt. impossibly, you are okay. maybe i showed too much of my own heart there, but when i look at 2009 Dan, i see all of that. eighteen years old, and for the first time since he was a tiny child, he actually felt safe.

because Phil says Dan like it’s the sweetest word in the world. because Phil has a hunger for everything Dan creates. because Phil held Dan when he dropped out of university, picked up his first radio job with him, moved in with him, and never left. because Phil never treated Dan like an experience to hide away. Phil loved parts of Dan back into life.

because Phil takes photographs of Dan, everywhere in his life, to say: this is my world, now. you can’t take a photo in the daylight without capturing the sun. you can’t take a photo in the nighttime without capturing the absence of it. Phil says Dan’s name in every video, and he takes another hundred photos, because he’s so fucking sure about this love. there’s not even a question to be asked.

this is only a fraction of what there is to say about it, some messily constructed analysis, but it's hard to capture. i'd call Dan a lucky bastard, but it's hardly luck, is it? Phil makes the decision to love Dan every single day, and it might look quiet, but it's so unfathomably loud.

[allaboutsturns]

ᴀʟʟ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ

nicolas sturniolo x masc!reader

content: fluff, confession, reciprocated feelings, the start of a relationship.

summary: you’ve known the triplets for about three years now and have always had the biggest crush on nick. the way his hair framed his face perfectly, the way his smile lit up every room, it was infatuating. he was perfect but you were afraid he didn’t feel the same way. that all changed on one random rainy night.

think of me

when you’re out, when you’re out there.

you were sat in your apartment, the cool air filling it nipped at your skin. before you met the triplets, you always preferred to have the heater on because of how easily you grew cold, but due to the triplets preferring cold air to constantly be blasting, you grew used to the cold and always had the ac on considering they were almost always over at your apartment or vice versa, you were at their house.

you scrolled through youtube, waiting for a video to peak your interest. the screen of your phone which lay on the armrest of the couch you sat on lit up.

you peeked at the screen with only your eyes, unsure if you wanted to acknowledge to whatever the notification was.

as soon as you saw the contact name, your face lit up with excitement. you quickly grabbed your phone, unlocking it with the face id and opening to text message you had received.

platonic soulmate <3:

hey bae!! out with matt and chris and can’t stop wishing you were here :( <3

your stomach fluttered as it filled with butterflies and your cheeks flushed a light shade of pink, “god the hold you have on me nicolas.” you whispered to yourself.

you:

wish i was with u too!! miss u so much :d

you typed, your fingers quickly sliding across the screen as you spelled out each word. you read over the text message probably five times to make sure it didn’t come across as too clingy, before finally pressing send.

you inhaled deeply, watching as a text bubble with three moving dots appeared, signaling that nick was texting back.

platonic soulmate <3:

we have to hangout soon bitch!!! i’m free tomorrow nightttt and like literally whenever you’re free cuz i’ll always make time for you boo 😘

your phone screen illuminated your face and you smiled brighter than you knew was even possible.

quickly, you began typing back.

you:

i’m free tomorrow night! def gotta hangout 😍

platonic soulmate <3:

perfecttt!! i’ll pick you up tomorrow night then <3

you double tapped the last message he sent and pressed the heart reaction before placing your phone back down and rocking back and forth out of excitement. you couldn’t wait to be reunited with him even though you only just saw him 2 days ago.

-

i think i’ll pace my apartment

a few times.

you nervously paced your apartment, your hands fidgeting with each other as you waited for nick to arrive.

nerves shot through your spine as you continuously checked your phone for the notification that signaled nick had arrived. you had a life360 circle with matt, nick, and chris. it was created mostly because you guys all wanted to stalk each other.

you stopped your pacing in front of the full body mirror that hung on the wall in your living room. you fluffed up your short hair and checked to make sure your outfit was good for probably the tenth time. this was a common occurrence. anytime you had plans with nick, you would constantly check and make sure you looked good. you were always so nervous because nick always looked good and you were desperate for him to be as infatuated with you as you were with him.

after about three minutes of you standing in front of the mirror you heard a ding come from your phone. you immediately lifted the screen to your face to see the life360 notification signaling that nick had just pulled up. you lifted a hand to your mouth and bit at the skin around your thumb nervously as you waited for him to text you, confirming that he had arrived.

finally, after what felt like a lifetime, a message from nick appeared at the top of your screen.

platonic soulmate <3:

i’m hereeee :D

you read the text quickly and ruffled your short hair once more before grabbing your keychain and walking out of the front door to your apartment, locking it behind you.

you walked down the stairs which led to ground level and scanned the parking lot for the oh-so-familiar car.

as soon as you saw it, your stomach swarmed with butterflies and your chest grew tight. you took a deep inhale in before walking towards the car, aiming for the passenger side door.

nick smiled that beautiful smile at you when he saw you approaching and gave you a simple wave. this action alone painted your cheeks a subtle red.

you grabbed the door handle and pulled, opening the door. you reached a foot into the car, your body following closely behind as you sat down into the seat.

“hey!!” nick said, still smiling as he pulled you into a tight hug, “feels like it’s been years since i last saw you,” he groaned as he jutted out his bottom lip, giving you a fake pout and doe eyes.

you laughed and sat back in your seat as he pulled away from the hug, “it’s only been two days you goof!” you said with smile, burying the fact that it did indeed feel like it had been years since you last saw him.

you put your seatbelt on and listened intently as nick began rambling about random shit that had happened over the last two days while he carefully pulled out of the parking lot.

-

i could follow you to the beginning,

just to relive the start.

you and nick always held good conversation. when you two were together, there was never a moment of awkward silence. the only silence that ever filled the space between the two of you was a comfortable one.

throughout the car ride, he randomly brought up various memories from when you guys initially met. it made your heart melt knowing he relived the memories the same way you did. it made your mind wander with restless thoughts, maybe… just maybe he felt the same way. maybe he cherished every moment you spent together the same way you did.

soon, rain started to make contact with the windshield of the car. you always loved the rain, it was comforting and you had found yourself always making the simplest, yet best memories in the rain.

as nick remained focused on the road in front of them, the rain started to pour harder. you couldn’t help but examine his side profile, not taking your eyes off of him. you hoped that he didn’t feel you staring, you prayed he didn’t. you knew it was probably weird, but you couldn’t help it. he was so beautiful.

“oh my god, bae!!” nick said as his eyes lit up with the remembrance of a memory. you quickly looked away from his face and to the road ahead as he glanced over at you for a moment, “hm?!” you hummed excitedly, more than eager to hear about the memory that just took over nicks mind.

nick smiled, a little laugh escaping his lips, “d’you remember that one time that we hung out and pulled into that one parking lot,” immediately you knew what he was going to say. you felt sparks ignite between the two of you but you were unsure if he felt them too.

“and it was pouring rain,” you began, cutting off the start of his sentence.

“and the car broke down,” he continued, cutting off your words right back. you guys did this often, finished each others sentences. it was like you guys were telepathically connected and neither of you minded being cut off by the other. in fact, it made the both of you giggle.

“and we danced in the rain waiting for matt to come get us after the tow truck took the car!?” nick said, his free leg bouncing with excitement. you smiled brightly at him as little snorts escaped your body, “yes of course i remember,” you said through the laughing fit that had just taken over.

nick began laughing just as hard as you did, pulling off of the main road and into a parking lot, the same parking lot you guys found yourselves in that night, the rain still pouring down. he strategically found the exact parking spot that you guys had parked in that night and put the car in park.

he pushed the ‘push to start’ button that activated and deactivated the car and opened his car door, eagerly slamming it shut behind him. you raised a brow as he ran over to your side of the car, opening the door and reaching a hand out to you, “may i have this dance, handsome?” he asked, still laughing as hard as he was three minutes ago.

you giggled and nodded your head quickly, “absolutely, nicolas!” you replied before taking his hand and ducking out of the car and into the pouring rain.

the two of you began to dance, your movements in sync as if you had both known exactly what the other was going to do.

your heart skipped a beat as you held firm eye contact with the boy you cared about so deeply.

this was it. this was the time. the perfect time. you were so nervous but you knew you had to say it. you knew if you let it continue to boil inside your chest that it would soon bubble over and you’d panic and say it all wrong.

-

and maybe then we’d remember,

to slow down,

at all of our favorite parts.

you could feel your heart rate pick up in your chest as you looked longingly into his beautiful blue eyes. your smile faded and your expression changed to one of admiration and pure love.

nicks eyebrows furrowed as he tried to read your changing expression, “what are you thinking?” he asked, removing his hand from your shoulder and moving the stray hair that had fallen into your face away in one gentle motion. you blinked up at him taking in a shaky breath.

“nick..” you said quietly, water dripping from your hair and pooling on your skin. he hummed a gentle response and looked into your eyes even harder, the air between the two of you growing thick. you could tell he got nervous too with how each breath became shaky and quick.

“nick, i’m..” you paused, the words getting caught in your throat. you had to say this perfectly because he deserved to hear it perfectly, “fuck.” you whispered to yourself, looking away and taking a step back from him, letting your hands fall to your sides. you kicked at the ground below you, watching as the water pooled around your feet.

nick placed his hand gently on your cheek, making you look back at him, giving him a small smile. you leaned into his touch subconsciously making him move his thumb back and forth against your cheek, “take your time, love,” he cooed, his eyes softening. you always loved when he called you little pet names like that. you felt your cheeks grow warm as they turned a deep red color.

“you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you and your brothers, but even more so, you,” you started, trying to keep your words on track, careful not to begin rambling, “and.. god. you are so perfect. your smile is infectious, always finding a way to make me smile just the same. your eyes are so gentle, so beautiful. every time i look into them i feel safe.. comfortable,” you continued, your heart racing. you tried reading nicks expression but you couldn’t, and that killed you, “your voice is so soothing and every time i hear it the world around me gets just a tad brighter,” you said, your voice growing shaky, “the way your hair falls perfectly into your face and the way you let me brush it out of the way each time tugs at my heart strings so hard.” you paused, giving him a moment to soak in your words.

“nick,” you started again, “you are so beautiful, handsome, pretty,” your stomach dropped when you saw the tears pooling at his waterline, but you continued, desperate to finally tell him how you felt.

you reached your hands up, resting them on his cheeks, “i am so in love with you. i always have been and i think i always will be,” you pushed the words out. you wished they came out louder, but the blockade in your throat only allowed them to come out as a whisper.

“all i want is you. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i want to be yours.” you said, your voice still quite. tears began to pool at your own waterline but you held eye contact with the boy in front of you, the boy you had come to love.

it was silent for a moment. the two of you were completely soaked but unable to move, your feet rooted into the ground below you.

nick reached a hand up to meet one of yours which rested on his cheek, placing it gently over your hand, leaning into your touch.

“all i want is you, too,” he whispered, shutting his eyes comfortably as he soaked in every moment of this interaction that he could, never wanting to forget it.

your eyes widened as you felt your stiff body finally relax. you bit your bottom lip, longing to kiss him.

there were moments in your friendship that your fingers had accidentally brushed his lips. you knew they were soft and delicate. there were also moments when he’d kiss your forehead or cheek to say goodbye or goodnight. in this moment, you knew you had wanted to kiss him for a long time. you knew you had wanted to be his for a long time.

“can i kiss you?” you asked gently, afraid that if you said it too desperately this whole moment would dissipate in front of you.

nick opened his eyes and looked back into yours, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “yes, please,” he paused, cringing at the fact that he said please. your heart sang a melody to the fact that he said please though. it meant he had felt the same as you for a long time too.

you closed your eyes and moved your body as closely as you could to his, hands still on his cheeks as you gently placed a kiss to his lips.

nick leaned into the kiss, shutting his eyes, signaling his full reciprocation. he moved one hand to your cheek and placed the other against the side of your neck.

the two of you stay like that for a moment, bathing in the moment. after about ten seconds, you pulled away opening your eyes slowly, him doing the same.

“i’m so in love with you, nicolas,” you whispered, pressing your forehead against his and shutting your eyes again.

“i’m equally in love with you,” he said, mirroring your every move.

-

all i wanted was you.

you smiled at the notification that lit up your phone, clicking on it almost immediately. you felt your cheeks grow warm with love.

soulmate <3:

hi love! sleepover at mine tonight? got a movie i think you’d like >:)

you hearted the message and typed two responses, clicking send on each one.

you:

im on my way <3

see you soon baby

your smile grew brighter when you saw the heart reaction appear over each message.

you grabbed you car keys and rushed out the door, eager to see nick. god you loved him so much.

divider by: @/Kafekitsune

HI omg i’m so excited. this is probably my favorite thing i’ve written so far im such a hopeless romantic omfg. i hope u guys enjoy this just as much as i do, im literally obsessed. I NEED TO SEE MORE NICK FICS NOW >:(

- ace <3

taglist: @whoisabbyysblog @mattyblover07 @b2cute @samandcolbyfan22 @h3arts4harry @nickgetsmewetter

[pollymorgan]

Ex-Husband Negan Part 3

Warnings: Defloration, but in a good way.

Tense, Negan looked back and forth between me and the hallway, towards Gracie's room. Then he ran his hand uneasily over his face.

"Fuck, sweetheart, correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you the one who always said I shouldn't use sex as a power tool?" he asked, with a slight grin on his face.

Innocently, I shrugged, "I would rather call it an offer."

I could clearly see the struggle in his eyes. "Okay, here's a counterproposal. You go ahead and make yourself comfortable, maybe even take off all those unnecessary clothes you're wearing, and in the meantime, I'll take care of the thing in Gracie's room... Believe me, I'll be with you in no time."

Angry, I crossed my arms in front of my chest, "Forget it, Negan... Either now, or never!"

"Never?" he asked sarcastically, "Darling, we both know that's not true. You need me, just as I need you."

He took a step towards me, and I would have instinctively stepped back, but the stairs were behind me, so I inevitably stood still. Negan's right hand came closer to me, and he began lightly stroking my collarbone with his fingertips, following the movement with his gaze. Of course, he noticed how I almost forgot to breathe under his touch.

"How often do you close your eyes when Steve fucks you and pretend it's me, huh? Tell me, I won't tell anyone..." he whispered.

I shook my head almost imperceptibly and looked at him in disbelief, then he leaned in and whispered with a gentle, gruff voice directly into my ear, "... but it annoys you every time that it doesn't work, that he can't make you feel things, that he can't touch you like I do, right? My darling, I know you better than anyone ever could. I was the first man in you... I'm the only one who has impregnated you twice... And only I can make you come so many times, over and over again."

His words hit me hard, because they held up a mirror to me that I didn't want to see, but at the same time, they sent warm electric shocks through my whole body.

A light slap on my butt brought me back to the present. "Well, off to the damn bedroom," he said firmly.

I grabbed his hand and led him down the dark hallway. After opening the door and turning on the light, I turned expectantly towards him.

"There it is... The same beautiful, slightly nervous smile as our first time." he noted.

29 years ago

While the other girls in my class cut out snippets from fashion magazines and glued them to their walls, my room was wallpapered with posters of various rock bands, and as our classmates tried to get into clubs with fake IDs, my two best friends and I were already thinking of another excuse for our parents to go to the next concert.

For almost two months, I had my first steady boyfriend, and since then, every day was even more adventurous. Not only the fact itself was super exciting, but he was simply the most exciting boy I had ever met. When we first saw each other at a small club concert, I was immediately head over heels in love with this guy that everyone there seemed to know. I was even more surprised when he came straight to me to talk, among all the pretty, older girls. That same evening, we kissed while the band played my favorite song. It wasn't my first kiss, but it was so different from anything I had felt before.

Although he was an absolute chaos and troublemaker who constantly got into fights and arguments, he treated me like a princess from the first moment. There was not a moment in that time when he didn't carry me on his hands and do everything to prove how important I was to him. I knew he had had quite a few, more or less, 'girlfriends' before me and often felt the eyes of the other girls on us when we stood hand in hand at a concert. And that always made me extremely insecure, but he assured me that it was different with me, that I was special.

Since our first meeting, we spent all our free time together.

During the week, we were usually at his house. His family was never there, and we had our peace, while my friends covered for us in front of my parents. So we had enough time to make out, listen to music, and philosophize about everything possible. I had never met a person before who was interested in the chaos in my head. Yes, who even understood it and thought similarly. With each similarity, I fell even more in love with this guy, even though I thought every time that there couldn't possibly be more.

So we were lying together on his bed again. My head was nestled in his armpit, and I watched him smoke while he stared at the ceiling. The fact that he just lit up a cigarette in his room impressed my 16-year-old self immensely.

Suddenly, he looked at me and grinned unmistakably, "You're looking at me as if I were some damn alien or something."

I felt caught, "Not at all... well, maybe a little, you are my boyfriend after all."

I gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. He then withdrew his arm from under my head to position himself sideways and prop himself up on his hand.

"Now you're looking..." I said defiantly, feeling my heart beating even faster.

"You are my girlfriend after all," he said amused and blew the last puff of his cigarette before rolling halfway over me to reach for the ashtray. His body was heavy on me, but I loved feeling him so close. In this position, he looked down at me and whispered softly, "And the most fascinating girl I know."

His gentle words and his strong body on mine evoked feelings in me that I had never experienced before. I wanted more of him.

His hand gently traced my waist, delicately stroking my breasts over my t-shirt. I loved it when he did that. My body trembled with excitement. Then he kissed me, a kiss that quickly intensified.

Suddenly, he rolled off me and pulled me with a swing. Now I was lying on top of him. We smiled at each other. Of course, I could feel how aroused he was by the situation, but I was too. After another kiss, I rested my head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Can I ask you something?" he broke the silence after a while.

"Mhh..." I dreamily replied.

"Have you ever pleasured yourself?" he asked bluntly, and I was glad I could bury my face in his shirt so he couldn't see how my cheeks flushed.

"Yes... I mean, yes..." I stammered awkwardly.

"Hey, is it embarrassing for you to admit that in front of me?" he asked, poking me in the ribs with his index finger, making me jump.

I looked up and met his beautiful dark eyes, which meant everything to me. He gently held my chin, so I couldn't lower my gaze.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing in this damn world should be embarrassing for you in front of me, especially not that, understood?" he said so emphatically that I could only whisper an 'okay.'

Reflectively, I bit my lower lip and then said softly, "I... I imagine it's you touching me when I do it..."

His hands trailed down my back and then settled on my buttocks.

"Wow, that's so damn hot," he exclaimed excitedly.

My body trembled slightly as I sat up and decisively took off my top. Now I was just sitting on him in my bra. "I don't want to just imagine it anymore, Negan. I want to sleep with you."

I had imagined so many times what it would be like and every day I thought that something more would finally happen between us than just kissing and a little fooling around. But he never took another step, and I was always too shy. Sometimes I even started to doubt myself because I heard stories from all sides about who Negan had supposedly slept with before me. But the Negan I knew was totally different from all those stories circulating about him.

"Do you really want that?" he asked cautiously, but I nodded decisively and opened my bra.

Negan's eyes wandered between my naked breasts and my face. "Fuck, you're incredibly beautiful... I just don't know what I did to deserve you..."

I leaned in towards him, and as soon as our lips met, a wild, passionate kiss ensued.

Negan rolled over again, so I was lying beneath him, then he took off his t-shirt and continued kissing me. Slowly, he pulled away from me and looked deeply into my eyes, while our noses almost touched.

"Please tell me if you don't like something, promise me... I'll stop immediately if anything makes you uncomfortable," he said decisively, his lips wandering over my jaw, slowly moving to my neck.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling on my bare skin. I loved it and at the same time, I felt a little scared because I was about to have my first time. What if it changed everything between Negan and me? I wanted it more than anything, but at the same time, I had doubts about whether it might ruin everything.

His kisses moved tentatively to my right breast. For the first time, I felt his lips on my delicate skin, and it immediately gave me goosebumps. My nipples hardened, even though I was feeling incredibly warm. My lower body tens ed up, sending tingles throughout my entire body. Restrained, I moaned as his tongue touched my nipple. He circled it slowly, making it so hard that it almost hurt. Then he gently sucked on it. He repeated the same with my left breast, and my upper body arched towards him. He looked up at me happily, "Baby, hearing those sweet sounds from you catapults me straight to paradise; no one on this planet is even close to being as sexy as you."

At his words, I couldn't help but smile and relax a bit more. His fingers lightly trailed down my ribs, tickling me in some places, making me twitch. Eventually, he reached the waistband of my pants and pulled them down slightly. He looked at me questioningly, and I nodded decisively, lifting my hips so he could pull down my jeans and panties unhindered. Now it was time; I lay completely naked before him, my thighs pressed together nervously.

"My princess, to make it feel good for you, you need to relax," he said, gently guiding his fingers down my inner thigh and slightly pushing my legs apart, just enough for his hand to fit between them. My heart raced, and I felt the blood pumping through my veins.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, I promise! Just like I'll always take care of you," he said emphatically, looking into my eyes as his fingers gently touched my most intimate part. He ran his fingertips over it and then very lightly between my labia. Everything in me tingled like crazy, like the feeling of being in love, intensified a thousand times.

I closed my eyes, pushed my hips towards him, and at the same time, slightly spread my legs further apart.

Negan placed his large, warm hand on my lower abdomen while his right hand thoroughly explored my vulva. When he briefly touched my clitoris, I saw stars before my eyes; the feeling was incredible and incomparable. I felt one of his fingers circling around my entrance.

"Every inch of your body is perfect," he whispered, then slowly pushed his finger into me, kissing my knee, which was slightly trembling and bent next to him. When he added a second finger, I felt myself tightening around him.

"Does that feel good?" he asked confidently.

And my "Yes" came out louder than I had planned. I opened my eyes and saw him proudly grinning.

Unexpectedly, he leaned between my legs and placed a warm, wet kiss directly on my mound. Surprised, I reflexively closed my legs, holding his head. Only when the kiss ended did I relax again, and my boyfriend crawled over me to give me another kiss directly on my lips.

"You can tell me to stop at any time!" he said, looking deeply into my eyes as if searching for an answer.

"I trust you, Negan!" I replied, smiling at him somewhat unsure.

He immediately kissed my nose and then leaned over to the nightstand to get a condom. I didn't care that he had probably been with a hundred other girls in this bed; at that moment, I felt I was special to him. That everything was special. That we were special.

Negan took off his pants and boxers and positioned himself between my legs. I was so excited that I could barely look at his penis. Of course, I had seen male genitalia before; I knew what guys looked like down there. But in this situation, it was something completely different.

"You can touch it," Negan said amused, taking my hand to place it on his hard penis. My fingers gently stroked his hardness, and I watched as Negan followed each of my movements with his eyes.

After a short time, he took my hand and brought it to his mouth to place soft kisses on it. Then he placed it on his hip bone. "If anything is uncomfortable or goes too fast, just push me back... understood?"

I nodded nervously as he put on the condom. However, my hand on his hip wasn't even necessary. When he entered me, he was so gentle and patient that it just felt amazing. He leaned over me, placing soft kisses on my neck as he slid deeper into me. Then he whispered in my ear, telling me how beautiful I was and how good I felt.

When he was fully inside me, he paused in position, whispering so softly that I could barely hear, "I love you."

[freakinator]

Hi Citrus, so sorry I'm having to send this ask through you but that anon (https://wwwtumblrcom/freakinator/769445402005176320) HAS PISSED ME OFF SO BAD and I can't beef with them directly Like I'm pretty sure this is a new gen LS fan, because on god this had been an ongoing issue since at the very least s4 and some of the members that got called out the most for that sorta shit was Subz, Vitalasy and I'm pretty sure Mapicc too so newflash dickhead you're wrong. Fuck, even Zam has done some ableist shit with pirate!zam and the gay joker Then bringing out Gothel, prev anon let me tell you this as someone who grew up handling ableism due to being heavily neurodivergent, infantalizing someone is absolutely a form of it and intentionally or not Kab's performance manages to hit the nail straight on the head to the point it's common for me to be physically uncomfortable during her yaps with Zam (which does force me to take breaks during which i mute the stream) because a LOT of what she says is rhetoric I've had thrown in my face and yeah it's still triggering to this day the reason a ton of this is getting shined onto ls!Kab is because a ton of people like you anon, are trying so so hard to brush it under the rug and claim "oh it's normal manipulation, she's just messing with his emotions" and cry this sorta shit to avoid taking a deeper or critical look, so maybe it would do you good to examine yourself in a mirror before trying to chastise someone else.

You shouldn't be trying to excuse this, you shouldn't be sticking your head so far up your own ass to justify a character doing shitty actions, like I legit want to know what the fuck were you thinking by trying to excuse her dragging him into teams, her trying to take decisions for him, banking on his paranoia so he lets shit go, expecting complete dependence on her from his side, constantly attributing his actions to someone else, writing him off as an easy target since there is no retribution... because that's also an issue on it's own, the fact that ls!Kab only pulls this shit on Zam, you know, the character that for seasons has been a victim of ableism (being called schizophrenic, psychotic, considered unable to make his own decisions) Anon I legit hope you get better as a person And Citrus, I hope these anons leave you alone jfc you're more patient than me

this was sent before anons apology but im deciding to post it anyway cause it encapsulates why so many ppl on tumblr have such a problem with ls!kabs behaviour and id like to link it whenever i have to explain myself for the hundredth time this week

[insomnicbypasser]

Hiiiii speaking my thoughts on a certain thing about the newest limbus event make sure to avoid incase of spoilers! I am offically yapping about rodion in this one also so be warned.

You know im constantly thinking about rodion and how she just, doesnt have a yurodivy identity. Its always been a thought in my head how every identity that we get in the game is a possiblility a sinner could have gone down, not just an overlap with exsisting characters. They are afterall from mirror worlds.

Theres n corp sinclair, who gave into his inital disgust of prosthetics and went fully into that realm of dark. The pequod captain ishmael who found herself an almost exact mirror of ahab, fully taken by the madness to hunt what she deemed to be the root of all evil that we saw and the later portion of her canto. Literally most of dons identities share a similar theme of her going into an organization and having her beliefs tested as shown in her n corp, w corp, and her shi association ids.

So why didnt rodion get a yurodivy id instead of her t corp id? The opportunity was right there for the taking, however there was somethings stopping her from getting it. There was the fact that she felt like she did anything to help in actually catching the time ripper, so she didnt get a district 20 yurodivy id bescause hong lu and ryoshu were ACTUALLY like them with their detective work, however i dont think its like that as seen above several sinners have gotten ids that directly go against their current arcs ie: captain ishmael and n corp sinclair. I also think this is the same reason she got a TAX COLLECTOR id of all things, finding herself not only stagnating but also becoming the type of person she would havr MURDERD in cold blood previously.

To me there are two reasons project moon is holding back on a yurodivy id for rodion. Either A: theyre saving it for a theoretical redo of rpdions canto, this time where she actually stands her ground to fully face sonya and give him her true awnser on where she stands, most likely telling him she'll be following the path that dante is leading her down towards instead of the path sonya had laid out for her with the yurodivy. With this she could potentially get either a id where she instead had taken sonya up on his offer, or the most interesting option where rodion had taken up the role of saint for the yurodivy instead of sonya in a sort of captain ishmael or spicebrush yi sang type of id.

And then theres option B: where rodion has yet to get a yurodivy id because there arent any plans to give her a yurodivy id because in EVERY mirror world rodion is always destined to give up her life with the yurodivy. Maybe there will always be a reason for her to leave, a flaw she can never let slide, maybe even a feeling she wont ever address that she wasnt and wont ever be for the yurodivy because they were never ment to be, either they were never doing enough or she could never be enough.

I havent read the book rodion is from, i dont know the first thing about rodions journey through it. All i know is that rodion is a gambling addict, he kills someone, and that sonya helps(?) him get past his vices and sins and even then none of that might not be true i have no idea. What i do know is that in limbus company, rodion has had the constant need to be something. She tried to lead a life in the yurodivy to feel as though she was doing something larger then herself, and when she felt as though they didnt meet her expectations she decided to take things into her own hands and when she looked back on her decisions, she couldnt even tell who she had done them for or whether she was only acting apon her base selfish desires. Then she joined limbus company bus, supposedly to maybe have a wish granted, but also because maybe in this group of losers and vagabonds, she could finally take a large role then what she felt she had when she was in the yurodivy, maybe she could finally make use of her time instead of this rotting stagnation she had been suffering from since she left the yurodivy. But then they fail in their first two missions, she sees sonya for the first time in a while as she plays her first major role in a mission and he is the cause for her failure, even extending an olive branch to her and a place back inside the group she had so quickly left behind when things didnt go so well for her. Then they finally start seeing successes but they come at great losses, being forced to face your traumas, to kill your previous loved ones, to give up your entire motivations for the sake of moving forward and finding your place in the world.

And then we come to t corp itself, rodion finds herself being hand picked for a mission that surely other sinners are more capable of completing. Rodion has lost some of her previous confidence in her place in the bus. She didnt face her trauma like sinclair did, she didnt fight against sonya with all her might like yi sang had, she didnt push through her flaws and learn from her behavior like idhmael and heathcliff had done. Rodion ran, and she hadnt even gained anything from it.

As the event went on, we saw slowly as rodions compossure dropped, especially when the yurodivy got involved. We got to see rodion start to look back on her decision to leave the yurodivy when she interacts with them in district 20. She questions herself as soon as she sees that they actually managed to make something of themselves, that if she had actually been patient they would have been able to give her the kind of change that she had wanted in her life.

Her struggle to define what she wants and how she wants to get it is so interesting, it seems to me like rodion is constantly setting bars too high, either for others or herself, never wanting to settle her bet always wanting to push just a bit further and always crashing hard when she looses it all. The case of time killing time is showing the cracks in her resolve, and i think that eventually itll all come to a boiling point where shell get a rerun of her canto.

Anyways thanks for coming to my tedtalk every single one of the sinners make me mentally ill in ways i will never recover from, not just rodion. Trust me i WILL be making a 20 page essay on don once her canto is fully out i will NOT be normal about her. Sorry if i got a bit off track btw this was absolutely a full character study mostly on rodion rather then being me talking about the new event like i said and had quite a bit about me talking about how i think ids work inuniverse beside being things dante can use on sinners for combat. ALSO! If anyone can tell me how rodion and sonya are in the book it would be cery appreciated! Knowing about how moby dick, wuthering heights, and the metamorphsis play out really shaped my experiences of their cantos and id like to see how its themes played into canto 2.

[molsno]

Your post on transandrophobia was the first time i'd heard of it and it from just reading your post it made sense why it couldn't be real. But i didnt want to adopt a new belief against something without looking into why people are for it. Upon reading many other posts and doing a bunch of thinking i now have a few thoughts on your post id appreciate your input on as you seem understanding and extremely well-read

please correct me if i'm wrong, but your argument against transandrophobia is that transandrophobia as the combination of androphobia/misandry and transphobia (to mirror transmisogyny being a combination of misogyny and transphobia) cannot exist because androphobia/misandry does not exist

you are completely correct that misandry does not exist in the same systemic way that misogyny does, it would be idiotic to argue otherwise, but our current system of gender stereotypes/expectations does also negatively impact men. Men are seen as inherently violent, dangerous, emotionless, and too sexual. (ie. men aren't belived when victims of rape bc/they must've enjoyed it, men are more likely to be incarcerated)

Men's Rights Activists and people like them were wrong in believing they suffered more than women and that women gaining rights was the cause of their suffering, but they did correctly identify that men also suffered from the patriarchy (and im forever gonna be salty that they were so close to understanding but instead of engaging in solidarity they decided to be misogynist about it)

When combined with other forms of oppression the often excused or ignored negative associations with masculinity are viewed as horrible problems

For example black men have to constantly make themselves less threatening when near white women because it is assumed they have malicious intent. Historically many many black men have been lynched in order to 'protect' white women. Yes it was very much racism, but it wasn't a coincidence that black men were the victims far more than black women.

Lesbians have historically been seen as inherently masculine therefore dangerous and predatory. The same associations now are used to justify transwomen being banned from women's spaces because they must be inherently masculine therefore inherently sexually predatory.

There is a narrative that Testosterone should be avoided for transmascs because it will make them into ugly violent monsters.

In specifically queer spaces there is often a strong stigma against being proud to be masculine. Which makes sense as most of the groups and people who have been openly proud of their masculinity before have been actively advocating for the elimination of queer people, but masculinity in itself is not anti-queer and shouldn't be treated as such.

There are many transmasc struggles seperate from transfem struggles that could potentially be more accurately described as an intersection of misogyny and transphobia, such as the infantilization and denial of control over our bodies, but because transfem people have established transmisogyny as a term to talk about their struggles and because there are several struggles resulting from our specifically trans masculinity, transandrophobia was chosen instead to not encroach on transfem's space while still having the ability to speak about our struggles.

thank you if you actually spent the time to read this and i genuinely hope you have a great day :]

thank you for being open to criticism with these ideas but oof, there's a lot to unpack here. frankly, I find it a little hard to believe you'd never heard the word transandrophobia before, considering you're regurgitating all of its talking points. you say that misandry doesn't exist at a systemic level, but then all of these points are framed as if it does. we'll go through that, but first, some foundations:

our current gender system may negatively impact men in a few narrow circumstances, but it is ultimately self-inflicted (even if some women do uphold it), and still benefits them. men are perceived as violent, dangerous, and too sexual because they continue to perpetuate a gender system that oppresses women with sexual violence. still, to this day, marital rape is not punished with the same severity as non-marital rape. still, to this day, women stay in abusive relationships out of fear that their boyfriends/husbands will commit acts of violence against them if they try to leave.

do you understand? violence, and ESPECIALLY sexual violence, is a tool men wield to maintain power, sometimes over other men, but especially over women. they wield this tool voluntarily because it benefits them, even if it does have its drawbacks in some circumstances. violence is punishable under the law, which is why men who perpetrate violence against other men tend to be incarcerated at higher rates than men who perpetrate violence against women. after all, women aren't considered full human beings with equal rights, so violence against them isn't a severe offense. our society was structured around the premise that women are men's property with which they can do whatever they want. that's why, for instance, when men are raped by women, they aren't believed; the very concept of a woman wielding sexual power over men is unthinkable in the eyes of society.

misogyny is one of the oldest forms of oppression - it's existed since nearly the dawn of society itself, and has existed in cultures all over the world for thousands of years. as a result, it is baked into the very foundation of society. if your analysis of gendered systems doesn't begin from this basic fact, then your analysis is incorrect.

certainly, men uphold very rigid, overly-restrictive notions of masculinity which can harm them in some cases, but this "toxic masculinity" as it's come to be known is really just a means of threatening other men with transmisogyny. I've written a whole post about it here.

with all of that out of the way, let's go through the rest of your examples of supposed misandry one by one.

first, while you are correct that there is a long history of violence being enacted upon black men because they are perceived as a threat to white women, the cause of this phenomenon is just racism. as you will recall in an earlier paragraph, I stated that men are perceived as violent and dangerous because they uphold a system of sexual ownership over women. any man that may pose a threat to another man's ownership over a woman must be punished with violence. now, black people regardless of gender are seen as hypersexual in this white supremacist society, so when it comes to black men in particular, they are perceived as being more likely to threaten a white man's ownership over a white woman - hence the amount of violence they face.

now, I need to say, I'm white, and while I do my best to learn about racism and how it intersects with other forms of oppression, my understanding will always be limited by my privilege as a white person. I've never experienced racism and I never will, so I don't have the full nuance to explain this topic in particular that comes with lived experience. that being said, I find it very callous and cruel that transandrophobia truthers repeatedly use the violence black men face as "proof" of their beliefs, especially because they act like black women aren't also subjected to racist violence, which they very much are. here's a thread by two black bloggers about this topic that I think discusses this phenomenon better than I ever could - be sure to check the read more link in it.

moving on, your point about lesbians and trans women (note the space) is, frankly, extremely insulting. misandry is not a part of my oppression. people don't hate me because I'm masculine, they hate me because I'm a tranny. they hate me SPECIFICALLY because I reject manhood in its entirety. they hate me because my very existence calls into question the validity of the assumptions that 1. there are two opposite mutually exclusive genders with absolutely no overlap and 2. manhood and masculinity is inherently superior to womanhood and femininity. that's why they portray people like me as a threat to cis women. if I'm free to exist in the way that makes me happiest, then the gender system that gives men absolute unchecked power over women will crumble. lesbians are also reviled and viewed as predatory for their rejection of subservience to men and their attraction to women, which - again, threatens men's control over them.

I'm going to go out of order here and address your point about queer spaces being hostile to masculinity. it just isn't true. I've never seen a single person provide an adequate explanation for how there is a stigma in queer spaces against masculinity that wasn't just lesbophobia and transmisogyny in disguise. it always boils down to "waah lesbians and trans women are mean to men and people who like men :(", a la this post.

now, last but not least, your points about transmascs. they're discouraged from transitioning because we live in a transphobic society. there is nothing unique about that. transfems are subjected to the exact same rhetoric.

transmascs do not experience an intersection of transphobia and misogyny. they may experience both of these, but they are not intersecting, and any assertion to the contrary demonstrates an abysmal understanding of intersection, whether willfully or not. I've already written another post about this exact topic.

I hope this was helpful, but for future reference, I'm going to say this: most women are not going to be so patient and understanding when you approach them with a giant wall of text asking them to explain misogyny to you. I did not have to do any of this for you, and you shouldn't expect me to. I've already written and reblogged many posts about the topics you've brought up here, as you've seen, and you could have easily found most of them by looking through my writing and transmisogyny tags. I hope you have a good day, but please do not do this again.

[ishifted-jdayz]

um. okay. hi. uh. i just shifted. just came back really. fuck dude. jesus christ.

okay um. so i shifted to my "wr" which is basically a ranch and i can do magic real easily and stuff and. it was so interesting coming to there. i was like. sitting up and everything was hazy at first and then i blinked the like. sleep out of my eyes and it was all so real.

there was sun coming through the curtains just how i imagined and the carpet felt right beneath my feet and it smelled like such fresh air, nice and cool. i ran my hands along the wall to really like. ensure i was there and i like. laughed incredulously and was like holy shit. bc i made it. oh my god dude i made it.

i ran outside to see if i was where i was fr and i was. i could see the ocean and the forest and the line of trees that blocks the train tracks. i could hear bugs and birds chirping and i was so. the warmth of the sun on my skin was crazy. i stayed out there for a while. i was in a white like. dress thing? like an undergarment from the 1800s. i was breathing easier i didnt have any allergies. i ran all the way to the beach to dip my toes in the water and fill my hands with sand.

when i got back i was like. so excited. i wasnt even hungry but i made myself be in order to eat in the kitchen. i made my favorite dish (im autism and have it all the time) and was just. beside myself as i watched it rotate in the microwave. i looked at all the cds i have and i turned on the tv. ive been watching criminal minds in old reality lately so i pulled up season 3 bc i hate that gideon left and i pulled up s3 in the one where gideon Didnt leave. and started watching that while i ate and looked around.

ive got a ton of plants next to my couch and i touched them all. the piano plays just like the one in my old reality, and i finally fucking found the sheet music i had forever ago and could never find. and i played it pretty easily and god man. it felt so fucking surreal. all my favorite books were on the shelves and i knew if i took one and pressed my hand against it and said "know" id know it all as if i just read it but i didnt really want to.

i looked in the bathroom and that was fucking cool as shit. the bathtub was so big and the windows were huge (no one comes here unless i want them to so its fine). i found a box of my jewelry including a ring i had to get resized in my old dr but it fit perfectly. the water was perfect and cool under my hands GUYS it was literally so cool.

and my cas room. its just how i imagined. so its like a old ass room from like the 1700s wood floor seems kinda dusty. but theres a mirror and i can enter sort of create a sim mode and change everything abt my self. first thing i did was get rid of my chest and MAN. FUCK. THE EUPHORIA. i started crying. had to take a whole couple minutes to come down from that. and then i started messing with my hair length and type and color and freckles and eye color and height and all this stuff and it was really cool. my ass is so fat now btw SLAY. and i just. looked at myself. and felt truly at home. like even though i look different now i feel more Me bc i Chose it. and anyway.

walked outside again bc i put on diff clothes in the CAS room and wanted to see my horse. its in a little pocket dimension sort of bc i dont want to constantly need to take care of them or have them around but when i want them around they are and i got to see herrrrrrr. shes also a beauty and i love her so much. and my cat pib was there and its just. guys its so fucking freeing. to know that everything i want is there.

went back inside and upstairs to the bedroom and man. i havent done much irt redecorating yet bc i wanted to do that myself but. i have a desk and a computer up there and immediately started up the sims 3 (my favorite game) and started playing and NO LAG. IS SO FUCKING EPIC GUYS. IM SO STOKED. and i played for a while and kept criminal minds on in the background until i got bored and then i went downstairs and ate and started watching. the secret season of black sails (my favorite show) and dudeeeeee that was crazy oh my god. ik why i cant see it in the my cr for meta reasons but now i SEEEEE now i understand........

and then i remembered my library and i ran over to that and dude it was so PRETTY. and i grabbed some music theory books and some language (letters and grammar) books and did the "know" thing and lets just say i know mandarin and japanese and french and gaelige and hebrew now. and im gonna do more when i get back but BRO its just so cool.

and i got a glass of fresh iced tea and went outside and watched the sun set on my porch and pib came up and my old dog bella (whos both old and not old now) and i started crying a little bit and then i went to sleep. and decided to come back here to update yall bc ik i can go back easy af now (bc i came back to a reality where i Can) so. anyway very fucking excited. so fucking happy. one billion out of ten.

[montammil]

i'm a real sucker for all this. i have a little writing request if those r still open too!

can we mayhaps see lawrence taking marshall on a shopping trip? maybe marshall gets lost in a crowd somehow, or manages to slip away from lawrence :0? take that what you will! and thank u so very much for sharing these wonderful stories <3!!

Here you go, thank you so much for your patience XD

CW: Parental whumper, failed escape attempt, infantilizing behavior, kidnapping, panic attacks, ableism (not really but just in case), manipulative behavior, implied violence, parental issues, past homelessness

...

When Marshall woke up that morning to hear Lawrence wanted to take him to the mall, he was shocked. He has been trying his hardest to go along with everything Lawrence has said, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't care about him at all, but he definitely didn't expect him to take him to the mall.

Marshall fiddles with the sleeve of his hoodie in the car. He wonders if Lawrence has ulterior motives here, since this is their first actual public setting he'd be taking him to. He doesn't know if he'd run if he got the chance since... where else would he go? On the streets again?

No... he's sure his parents would take pity on him and let him live with them again, but he didn't want that, either. He didn't want to go back to being judged for everything, to go back to being yelled at and ridiculed.

A voice catches him off-guard, making him wince. He looks over at Lawrence who's staring at him. "Uh, did you say something?"

Lawrence nods. "I asked if you were okay."

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Marshall replies. "I'm just... I dunno, nervous."

"Of the mall?"

"Yeah, it's just that... what if people recognize me from the news?"

"That won't happen, bud," Lawrence says. He grabs some glasses with thick frames and hands them to Marshall. "These'll help. Try them on."

Marshall does, and he's surprised when he sees himself in the mirror. He doesn't look like himself. It's been at least four months since his disappearance so he's sure no one's looking for him as much anymore, but he still does have a slight hope. His mind is constantly fighting with itself between wanting freedom and wanting to be with Lawrence, so he doesn't really know what to do with himself.

In all honesty, he feels guilty for wanting both things. He feels guilty for wanting to leave, almost feeling like if he did, he'd be betraying Lawrence, but to want to give into Lawrence's delusion makes him feel more humiliated than anything. He wishes he could just have a break from everything and everything could just be okay.

Lawrence puts his hand on Marshall's head and ruffles his hair, making Marshall flinch and look over at him.

"We'll be fine, kiddo," Lawrence says. "And I don't want you to worry about anything. If anyone asks about you, I'll tell them I'm your dad, okay? And if anyone asks, your name is Isaac Keyes." He gave him a fake ID.

Looking down at the fake ID with wide eyes, Marshall asked, "How long ago did you plan for this?"

"Not long ago," Lawrence replies. "Just a couple days ago, actually. Anyway, let's get going. Maybe after I get what I need, we can stop by the food court. Would you like that?"

"Y-yeah, sure," Marshall replies, but he doesn't feel as enthusiastic as he wants to be.

"Great," Lawrence says. "Let's go."

As they walk through the mall, Marshall keeps his head down and walks slowly behind Lawrence, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He glances around the area as he follows Lawrence to a store he knows he won't like, and he's proven right when he sees the first thing in the store is a pair of jeans. Ugh.

"Get something you like," Lawrence tells him as he goes over to look at the men's jackets.

Great. Marshall looks around, none of this stuff meeting his criteria for things he likes. He's a little shocked Lawrence would let him choose anything here, given none of it is really that childish. He awkwardly shuffles through the racks, keeping his head down, and finds himself picking up a hoodie with a print of a snake on it.

It isn't cute or childish, it looks genuinely cool. Marshall smiles to himself, knowing as soon as he gets it, he'll be quick to replace it with this pastel hoodie with the bunny print on it.

Marshall glances over when he hears Lawrence's voice. He sees him talking to the cashier about something, they seem all friendly with each other, so he assumes they know each other. Because of course they do. Marshall can hardly go anywhere where Lawrence doesn't know someone.

They seem pretty invested in their conversation. Marshall looks out the store. It isn't extremely crowded, but there are some people here and there. He feels a hint of jealousy when he sees the millionth group of friends pass by the store, laughing and having fun, just hanging out together. He hasn't been able to do that in so long, he just misses it.

He wonders if he got out of here... could he manage to turn his life around? Would he even be able to find a job? He knows he wouldn't be able to do anything that would pay much.

Marshall spares one more glance towards Lawrence. He's still talking to the cashier. He puts the hoodie back on the hanger and takes a step back. And another step. And another step.

Through it all, he expects Lawrence to look his way, to notice him inching towards the exit of the store. But he doesn't. He doesn't even look his way.

His hand shakes as he slowly backs away from the store. He stops when he gets to the doorway. He can't believe he's actually doing this. Is he? He kind of hopes Lawrence will stop him, but he doesn't. He takes one more step, and when he's in the hall of the mall, he darts right.

Marshall trips over his own feet as he makes his way to the stairs to go down a level, to get out of here, maybe find help. He knows he has to be quick about this before Lawrence catches him, but he can't help but slow down to look at all the stores and the people walking around. He looks for someone who can help him, but he's afraid no one will believe him.

He picks up his speed again once he's out of the crowd of people, heading right towards the exit of the mall.

There's no going back.

It's too late to think about what he's doing, to think about what Lawrence would do to him if he got caught. The memories of being stabbed and left in the cold, lonely basement keep him from returning back to him. He shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts, but it doesn't work.

He's already almost at the exit of the mall. The exit doors are right there. All he has to do is walk through them. He looks behind him, as to see if Lawrence is in sight, but he isn't. He's starting to have a panic attack, he can feel it. Maybe he already is, judging by all the weird looks he's getting.

"Are you okay?" A security guard, wearing a worried expression, puts a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's okay. Just breathe... there you go. What's going on? Are you hurt?"

She's talking to him like he's a child. Marshall cries at that realization, because he knows he looks like one right now. He shakes his head, choking out, "Lawrence."

"Lawrence?" She furrows her brow, still keeping a hand on his shoulder. "Who's Lawrence? Is he your guardian? Do you know where he is?"

He tries to explain that he kidnapped him, but he's breathing so heavily he's sure he's hyperventilating. Should he tell her? He doesn't want Lawrence to get in trouble... no, wait, he does. He kidnapped him. So why is he finding it so hard to tell her the truth?

The woman shakes her head, then says, "Okay, look, I need you to calm down. Just take deep breaths, okay? Do you have asthma?" When Marshall shakes his head, she helps him up. "Come on, I'll take you to the security office."

He tries to tell her no, he doesn't want to go to the security office, he wants to go home. But his voice is shaking so much he's afraid he won't be able to be understood, so he follows her anyway. At least if Lawrence comes, she'll protect him.

When they get there, she helps him sit down, and he rests his head in his hands as he tries to calm down. She's saying something to him, but he can't make out what.

He manages to say, "Lawrence-- Lawrence, he... he..."

"What did he do? Did he hurt you?" She grabs a phone.

Just as he's about to tell her what happened, what's been happening, he hears a familiar voice that makes his face pale.

"Oh, Isaac! Are you okay!? I've been looking everywhere for you, you worried me sick!" Lawrence rushes in and kneels down, cupping Marshall's face. "What happened?! Are you hurt!?"

"Sir, I need you to calm down," the woman says. "We're trying to talk, can you wait outside the office?"

He looks up at her, Marshall can see a hint of anger in his eyes before he sighs. "Look, Isaac has many mental issues, this isn't the first time this has happened. I'm his father, look." He gives her his ID, then grabs Marshall's from his pocket.

"Charlie Keyes," she reads, giving him a look of suspicion. "Listen, sir, I'm not doubting your words are true, but you need to understand that there are certain protocols I have to go through before I can take this further. Please wait outside the office for a moment."

Through it all, Marshall wants to interject, but he doesn't. He opens his mouth, but Lawrence squeezes his shoulder tight as if warning him to shut up.

"Mr. Keyes, it's not that your his father I'm doubtful of, it's--"

"I know, you think I'm abusing him. Call Glenn, I know him, he can tell you this isn't the first time this has happened. I have all of Isaac's medical information saved on my phone, Glenn can validate that for you."

She seems hesitant, but she nods and takes out her phone. "If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I'll give him a call."

"I'm sorry for the hassle," Lawrence says with a smile. "Thank you for helping him, I'm just glad he's okay."

The woman smiles back and nods before standing up and leaving the room.

Lawrence knows if she ends up calling the police, he can just make up more false evidence. Since she's still within earshot, he coos to Marshall, "Oh, Isaac, honey, this is the fourth time this month. Maybe we should get you on stronger meds, hmm?" His smile, which can be mistaken for caring and sweet, is really just mocking and taunting. In a quieter voice, Lawrence says in his ear, "If you don't go along with everything I say, it won't end in your favor."

Marshall knows it won't end in his favor either way.

Lawrence is the one in control of their situation. He always has been.

Eventually the woman comes back in and apologizes for the inconvenience, then she leaves them. "I'm sorry for the wait," she says. "You're free to go. Again, I'm sorry for the inconvenience."

"No problem," Lawrence replies. "As said, this isn't the first time this happened. Come on, kiddo, let's go home." He helps Marshall stand up and leads him out of the security office.

As they leave the mall, Marshall glances back and sees the woman watching them leave. He wants to say something, especially because he knows what's coming for him as soon as he gets back to the hellhole Lawrence calls their home, but he doesn't. He keeps quiet and lets himself be dragged through the parking lot.

As soon as they get in the car, Lawrence looks over at Marshall. He looks pissed. Marshall looks away.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was, Marshall?" Lawrence scolds him. "You can't just take off like that! What if something happened to you!? You could have been hurt! I trusted you to come with me because I thought you learnt your lesson from last time, but apparently you haven't!"

Marshall shrinks back in his seat, staring at his lap. He can hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. He doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what he would say if he did.

"I told you I wouldn't hesitate to punish you if you ever disobeyed me again," Lawrence says. "Do you remember what happened last time? Do you want to relive that?"

Tears roll down Marshall's eyes as he shakes his head. He wants to say he's sorry, that he won't do it again, that he'll be good, but the words get caught in his throat. It seems the pathetic display of tears has helped Lawrence to ease up a little bit, because his tone softens.

"Oh, sweetie," Lawrence sighs. "I know you don't mean to disobey me. I just wish you understood that I only want what's best for you. It's hard to help you when you refuse to listen."

"I'm sorry," Marshall manages to choke out. "I won't do it again."

"That's what you always say," Lawrence replies. "And yet here we are again. Maybe I need to come up with a better punishment for you."

"No, no, no, please, no more," Marshall pleads. He can't stand the thought of going through that again.

"You know how this works, Marshie. You've got to learn your lesson or you won't learn anything."

Marshall whimpers and hangs his head. He knows there's nothing he can say to Lawrence to change his mind. He's been through this too many times to try again.

"Oh, kiddo," Lawrence says softly, "Don't cry, please don't cry." He pulls Marshall into his arms, holding him close. It's an uncomfortable position since Marshall can feel the center console digging into his stomach.

Lawrence continues to coo at him as he holds him in his arms, rubbing his back, brushing his hair out of his face. His voice is so soothing and calming, it's almost as if Marshall can forget how dangerous he is. Almost.

"I know you think I'm a monster," Lawrence says, "but you must understand how much I care for you. You're my little boy. I know I'm protective, overprotective, even, but...." He squeezes Marshall so tight he winces. "I only want the best for you. Where would you go to if you left? Not only would you leave your dear old dad heartbroken, but you'd be homeless and alone on the streets again. You wouldn't know how to get by without me, you wouldn't have any money to survive. Is that really what you want?"

Marshall shakes his head.

"I didn't think so. So you have to understand why I'm so protective of you. I can't risk losing you." Lawrence kisses his temple. "You're my world."

Marshall keeps his head down and tries not to think about what Lawrence just said. He tries not to think about how his heart skipped a beat at that comment. He craves to hear those words, but not by Lawrence. Not from this monster.

When they get back home, Marshall is convinced Lawrence will let it slide since he seems much more calm now. That is, until Lawrence tells him to follow him to the basement. He doesn't have any strength to fight him anymore, so he follows him obediently, trying to hold back tears as he goes down the stairs.

"So!" Lawrence claps his hands together as he shuts the door behind them. "Now that that's over with, lets talk about your punishment."

[sunnyrosewritesstuff]

Day 3- From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories

With a little help from @lordoftherazzles I FINALLLY decided on a title for this fic, so thank you Razzy! This was the winner for "my future WIP". Since posting the first chapter on AO3 would just be basically posting my previous teaser, I thought I should offer you guys a little bit more. So consider this the fic "trailer". 😆

From the Pieces of Your Shattered Memories

Rating: T

Warning(s): N/A

Ship: Bagginshield

Words: 1780

Summary: Paramedic/Amnesia AU; Bilbo was just checking on a coma patient that he might have a teensy little crush on. That was it. Even though he’s a paramedic, his job doesn’t get terribly exciting. Now, he’s on the run with said man who can’t even remember who he is as they escape assassins and potentially uncover a plot that will destroy Erebor.

Previous Teaser

The remainder of the ride to the alley where Bilbo found Oakenshield was met with silence. Though it was far from comfortable. Bilbo was constantly checking his mirrors awaiting the inevitable car chase that would just top his day on ‘shit he wasn’t built to handle’. However, to the relief of his shot nerves, there was nothing. No gunmen, no cops, nobody suspecting anything out of the ordinary. Bilbo parked the ambulance next to the meter at the entrance of the alley.

“Well, this is it.” Bilbo explained pointlessly.

It sat between the Mathom House, a local museum, and the Green Dragon, a bar and pub. The best Bilbo and Theo could figure, Oakenshield had left the pub when he was pulled into the alley and mugged. It was common enough to hold weight, even if Oakenshield’s blood alcohol level came back 0. After all, Bilbo was a big fan of GD’s fish and chips. It was entirely possible he went in just for lunch before he was snatched into the dark alley.

The only thing that was causing Bilbo to second guess himself was Oakenshield’s James Bond self-defense abilities. If he could take out two gunmen in less than a minute in the hospital, how could he not defend himself against a few thugs? 

Oakenshield moved gingerly thanks to the bullet wound in his side, but his eyes scanned the area fiercely. Bilbo could tell from the furrow of his brows that he was frustrated though. Bilbo stuck his hands in his pockets wondering when exactly would be the best moment to duck out and leave the man to his own devices. 

“Can you explain to me how you found me?” He asked softly.

It startled Bilbo from his thoughts as he took a step forward, nodding dumbly.

“Yeah, sure. You were laid out here.” Bilbo stated going to the spot. “Bludgeoned to the head, contusions over your body, heavily emphasized to the ribs and abdominal area. It looked like a textbook mugging.”

“I think after what we experienced in the hospital we can rule that out.” Oakenshield snapped.

Bilbo glared at him. “Well it’s not like we knew that at the time.”

He ran a hand through his long dark hair. “I know.” He groaned. “This isn’t helping like I thought it would. Nothing about this looks familiar.”

Bilbo heaved a sigh before placing a hand on Oakenshield’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. This must be frustrating to you. But I told you these things take time, you can’t just force your memories…”

Bilbo let himself trail off as Oakenshield walked away from his touch towards a dumpster. He felt his lips press together tightly. Well, good talk then. He was glad he could help. He was going to offer to leave when Oakenshield pushed the dumpster away from the wall slightly. He then bent down to retrieve something on the ground back there. Bilbo couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose at the action. He was far less disgusted and a bit more curious when Oakenshield flipped open a wallet.

“How did you know that was back there?” Bilbo asked in amazement.

“Because I suddenly remembered to look for it.”

There was no money, no credits card, or ID of any kind. It definitely looked like it had been cleaned out which made the mugging theory more credible. Bilbo could tell Oakenshield was getting discouraged when a small photo fell out of the folds. There were three people in the photo, but none of them were Oakenshield. 

There was a beautiful woman with brunette hair and dark eyes with her arms wrapped tightly around two young boys. The older one had sunshine hair and Oakenshield’s blue eyes. The youngest had dark hair, a bright grin, and was clutching a graduation cap to his head. Bilbo felt sick looking at the picture. Oakenshield had a family. Where were they? Why hadn’t they tried to find him?

“Do you…recognize any of them?” Bilbo finally brought himself to ask.

Oakenshield shook his head, his jaw clenched tight. 

“I-It’s okay, Oakey. It’s not your fault.”

“Stop!” He ordered, pulling away from Bilbo once more. “I should know! I should be able to know my own family! If that’s who they are.”

He bent down groaning as he clutched his head. Bilbo went into medic mode and immediately rushed over next to him trying to take his pulse until Oakenshield shook him off. He was certainly proving to be a stubborn patient, but Bilbo thought he was fine. Probably just lingering headaches from the memories he was trying to force as well as the blunt force he took.

Bilbo wasn’t exactly sure what he was still doing here. He said this was all he was going to do. And it really would be in his best interest to walk away now. He didn’t know this man, he was vaguely terrified of him, but not as much as he should be which was the troubling part. Bilbo took another look at the photograph, his eyes zooming in on the youngest boy. More accurately his sweater.

“I know that crest. That’s my nephew’s school, well cousin once removed actually, but technicalities.” 

Oakenshield perked up, looking between Bilbo and the photo.

“What school?”

“Buckland Prep. It’s on the east side of town.”

“Can you get us in there?”

Bilbo hesitated. He could still walk away. He could remind Oakenshield that this was the end of the line for their temporary partnership, and good luck to him. However, there was something about him that was so magnetic. Bilbo would almost blame those hopeful blue eyes, if it wasn’t for the fact that he felt this way even when the man had been asleep in a coma. 

“They’re not going to let us ask for records on another kid. At least if we’re not on his contact list.”

Oakenshield’s lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes reflected his disappointment. 

“But,” Bilbo sighed, hating how much his heart swooped at seeing Oakenshield’s demeanor brighten. “I bet Prim is at home, and maybe she’ll recognize him if he’s in Frodo’s class.” 

“Then let’s go!”

Oakenshield was up and practically running to the ambulance before Bilbo stopped him. He managed to convince him that they were better off ditching the ambulance and switching vehicles in case anyone came looking for him. It was rather fortunate, actually, that Bilbo’s cousin, Odo, ran the Mathom House. Perhaps more so that Odo owed him a favor so borrowing his car for a couple of hours shouldn’t be a big deal. 

“Also, Oakey?” Thorin brought to his attention Bilbo’s slip of the tongue.

Bilbo felt himself flush, but tried not to act like it had any effect on him whatsoever.

“Do you know how much of a mouthful ‘Oakenshield’ is?” 

“So you gave me a nickname for your nickname?”

“You know what, remember your actual name and I’ll stop.”

Bilbo had just a moment to be horrified at letting his mouth run away from him before Oakenshield let out a deep, loud chuckle. A smile immediately bloomed across his face as he felt himself preen. All the while trying to remind himself not to get his hopes up. Remember, he’s a psychopath. Possibly has a wife and two kids.

“You know, you’ve been giving me all this crap about me being the spy, and then you do something like this.”

“Now I have no idea what you could mean by that! I certainly didn’t kill two men with my bare hands!” Bilbo squawked, rounding on the taller man.

“No.” Oakenshield agreed, his eyes twinkling. “But you picked out that little symbol on the sweater, knew exactly what it meant, and now you’re having us ditch our ride in favor of something that will be more under the radar. Are you going to hotwire it for us?”

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Nothing nearly as dramatic. The only thing I’m guilty of is having a big family in a relatively small town. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to deal with one of my least favorite cousins.”

Before Bilbo could proceed, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. He turned back around to Oakenshield, with his head cocked and eyebrow raised. The man gave him a small smile as his eyes bore into him with an intensity that caught Bilbo’s breath.

“I just realized I haven’t really had the proper chance to thank you. So…thank you. I’m pretty sure I’d be dead, at least twice over, if it hadn’t been for you.”

It was on the tip of Bilbo’s tongue to argue with him. After all, picking him up that day had been a routine job, and Theo was the reason they had answered the call instead of packing it in for the day. As for the hospital, Bilbo had very little to do with getting them out of that situation. Oakenshield had practically saved them single-handedly. And maybe that’s why Bilbo hesitated. Because this incredible, attractive, please don’t let him be psychotic, talented man thought Bilbo was amazing. That he was actually worthwhile simply because he could follow a series of clues that might unlock this man’s memories. 

“You’re welcome. Of course. I’m happy to…yeah, I’ll just be a moment then.”

Without further ado, Bilbo ducked his head and slipped inside the museum hoping beyond hope that he could somehow get the imprint of that man’s smile out of his brain before he wound up hurt. And he certainly didn’t mean physically, but that was definitely a valid concern.

***

Teasers from Future Scenes/Chapters:

“Here he is! Kili Archer. He’s actually a few years older than Frodo.” Prim declared, her finger pointing to the same boy in Oakenshield’s photo.

“Could your last name be Archer?” Bilbo questioned the man.

His lips pursed together. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”

***

“Listen closely, Bilbo Baggins, you have no idea who you’re messing with. If you don’t give my brother back to us, you’ll have the entire weight of Erebor’s militia hunting you down. Now where. Is. Thorin?”

***

“You didn’t realize that the man you’ve been carting around this whole time was the King of Erebor?” The bald man demanded.

“He. Had. No. Memory. How was I possibly supposed to know that?!” Bilbo shrieked in response.

***

Bilbo stared down at the rainbow colored gem. This was it? This was what was worth killing Thorin over?

He heard the footsteps creeping up behind him, and Bilbo immediately spun around only to freeze at the sight of the gun pointed right between his eyebrows.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, Medic. Hand over the Arkenstone, or I might just have to kill you.”

[herecomesmary]

Tho my head have always been at 1000miles/hour, my life moves pretty slowly. Once I got the turtle card at a tarot deck and it made so much sense. Surrounded by rabbits, trying to walking at my own pace. I don't like being the turtle, having to persist all the time, to keep humble and consistent. I'm no good at either of those things. I see other people and think I'd wish I could be like that. Anything that's different from who I am. Anything thay could make me desirable.

I'm not the kind of person ppl want around for the sake of my company or even wish they could be like. I can be a good friend, sometimes, and that's it. My body has monstrous shapes, full of scars, not pretty to look at. My mind is deep and full of darkness. I think so much all the time about all aspects of life, if my thoughts were written constantly id have a gigantic library with an obscene amount of files. Most of the time I don't have a nice thing to say. I feel my heart is heavy and dirty, liking oil and infestuating its surroundings. I wouldn't like myself if i met me occasionally.

I feel disgusted when I eat, and a hard time drinking water cause it tastes like medication to me. I'm almost never in the present, I live constantly in made up scenarios imagining what I could be if I was different. I tried all the therapies, all the treatments, all the approaches that jumped off in from of me. Even though I somehow go back to rock bottom. I understand so well what frank ment with "I've seen rock bottom and it was love at very first sight". Some people belong in the deep.

I wanted to understand what Im made off, if there was any way to change anything. The urge of comprehension itches my skin everyday, so much I need to open it. Deeper everytime. I feel every person I know disappearing day by day. I see things becoming translucent. The mirror is confusing. And even being completely lunacy, I still tricky myself to believe I'll find happiness one day. Someone will love me and won't mind a person with such hideous features, and I'll live like the suns always shinning gently through the curtains.

Hallucination can be a hell of a tool to keep a person alive, I believe. Specially the turtle.

[viscerax]

robin x male reader where he gets picked on a lot and robin offers to teach him some self defence moves and one thing leads to another where the reader develops a crush for robin? (love ur fics btw)

Stand Up For Yourself

"Hey, Y/n! Where you going, cunt-wad?" You winced and kept your head down, trying to ignore the calls coming from three of the many people who constantly harassed you throughout your day.

It used to not be like this. You used to be treated normally. You never really stood out or caught the attention of any girls, but you didn't mind that. Thats not what you wanted.

It started after you had told your best friend, someone you thought you could trust, about your crush on one of the boys in your class. He told you that he wouldn't tell anyone. He lied.

After that, everyone treated you differently, and thus, the constant bullying and harassment began.

You made a sharp turn, quickly shuffling into the closest bathroom, which thankfully was empty. You perched on top of the toilet seat, struggling to remain balanced and quiet.

You heard the door slam open and hit the wall, and the chuckles of Matty and his goons flooded your ears. You just sat there, praying they would give up and leave.

"Hey, I know you're in there. You're not fooling anyone." Matty was now standing in front of the stall you were in. When you stayed silent and still, Matty scoffed and kicked the bottom of the door. "Come on out, Freak! We just want to talk!"

You flinched at the loud noise of the door rattling. You debated on whether or not it would be better to stay there and wait for them to break down the door, or just go and get it over with now.

Just as you were about to get up and open the stall, the bathroom door slammed open, making you quickly perch back up on the seat.

"What are you dipshits doing?"

Matty and his goons all went silent. They just murmured and began walking towards the exit.

"The next time you fuck with Y/n, I'll beat the shit out of you. Make sure you let everyone else know that, too." For a moment, you were confused as to who had entered and defended you, but it only took a few moments for it to finally click.

Robin Arellano. The toughest kid in school. You had never really talked to him before. You only knew him from watching him get into fights. He intimidated you, but not in the way that you were scared of Matty or Moose or any other kid that picked on you. It was more of the kind of fear you would have around a celebrity. You just wanted him to think you were cool.

"You can come out now, they're gone. They won't bother you anymore."

Now you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed that you were cowering in a bathroom stall while Robin just so easily scared Matty away.

You sighed and opened the stall door, turning to look at Robin. Who was washing his hands in the sink. You glanced down and noticed that the water in the sink was turning red, and he had a slightly pained expression on his face.

"You have got to learn how to defend yourself. Otherwise, they're just going to keep treating you like that. All you gotta do is throw a good punch, knock someone down and off their pedestal, and they won't fuck with you no more." Robin looked up to make eye contact with you through the mirror. He gave you a bit of a smile, and you couldn't help but feel flustered. You looked down at your feet, shuffling nervously and playing with the straps to your backpack.

"I can't fight. I'm thin as a toothpick. Id get knocked on my ass by a leaf." You chuckled, leaning against the wall and glancing back over at Robin.

"Its not really about how bulky you are. I mean, I've beaten Moose down before, and he looks like a mini body builder. Hell, I could probably take down Pinball Vance Hopper if I wanted to." He sighed and shook his head. "As if I'd want to do that. But the point is, its more about strategy, and knowing where to hit. I'll tell you what. My tìo has got this punching bag in our basement. I can teach you how to beat the shit out of those fuckers. Just so long as you promise to actually use it the next time they pick on you, 'kay?"

You were very surprised at first, but quickly nodded. "You'd do that for me?" You were shocked that he was so friendly with you. Any of the boys in the school had treated you like you had a disease. Like if they spent ro much time around you they were going to start turning gay too. But Robin didn't seem to care. It made you happy, relieved even, that maybe this was a potential to have a new friend.

That Friday, you had finally convinced your parents to let you stay the night at Robins. They were weary of letting you go anywhere alone these days. Not that you could blame them.

You followed Robin on his way home, smiling and chatting with him happily. For once in the past few weeks, you finally felt happy. Besides the few weird stares you got leaving school, no one bothered you. Which was rare.

That night, the two of you had brought a few blankets, pillows, and tons of snacks into Robins basement. Robin popped a Pink Floyd cassette into his player. The two of you cleared up the space around the punching bag, just in case.

Robin gave you a few tips. The best way to throw your first punch was take a quick step forward, quick step back, quick step forward, and swing. He drilled it with you a few more times before letting you try it on your own.

You landed one blow on the punching bag with enough force to make it sway back and forth on the chain it was attached to. It wasn't much, but it felt like a big accomplishment to you. The pride welling inside of you blocked out the temporary stinging pain in your knuckles.

The two of you continued doing that ober and over, and then sparred with eachother for a bit until eventually the exhaustion started to hit you like a wave, and the two of you were payed down on the king size mattress that was covered in blankets, pillows, and the open bags of candy and chips. You were sitting on one end of the bed, trying to take up as little space as possible while Robin sat a few inches away from you, eyes glued to the TV as he popped another chip in his mouth.

You couldn't help but glance over at him a few times, admiring every little detail. You knew it would only end bad for you to develop a crush on him though. You felt so guilty for looking at him, and had to force yourself to stare at the TV and focus on anything else but him.

Robin noticed your discomfort, but he decided to not bring it up.

"Robin?" You finally looked over at him again. Robin turned to look at you, giving you that signature smile he always looked at you with.

"Yeah man, whats up?"

You sighed, fidgeting with the bag of chips in your hands. "Wh-why are you being so nice to me. I mean, surely you've heard what they've said about me. I mean, I just figured you deserve to know. I-I'd feel bad if you didn't know and I was just taking advantage of your ignorance and-" this was something you did often. You always pushed other people away before the could hurt you.

Robin just chuckled and set his chips down, turning his whole body to face you. "What? That you're gay? I don't really care about that. You're chill. You're a good friend, so why should it matter if you like guys. And besides, it would be pretty hypocritical of me to judge you for that." He let out a loud laugh, turning to face the TV again.

You just sat there for a moment, dumb-founded. "So are you-?"

"Yep." He seemed so calm and non-chalant about it. It surprised you, amazed you. That must be why he never paid much attention to the dozens of girls drooling over him.

You just smiled and turned to face the TV again.

Over the next few weeks, you happily grew closer and closer to Robin. You were happy to have a friend again. A friend who didn't judge you for who you liked. A friend who treated you like a normal human being.

But you also noticed the other feelings you had for him. The way your stomach flipped inside out anytime you saw him, or the goosebumps you got whenever the two of you touched, or how excited you got to stay the night with him and get more fighting lessons.

You tried to tell yourself that you had no chance, that he was way out of your league, but you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered anytime you looked at him.

It was another Friday night at his house. This time, the two of you were simply hanging out. You were playing cards on his bed while some Queen cassette played in the background.

Everytime it was Robins turn, you would just stare at him, admire the way his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to figure out his move, or how soft his lips looked, or how much you wished you could reach out and run your fingers through his hair.

Robin looked up to notice that you were practically in a trance. He smirked as you suddenly realized that you were staring and looked down at your cards, pretending like you were trying to decide what move to make.

Robin let out a low chuckle, which made your cheeks flush an embarrassingly bright shade of red.

"Something wrong, Y/n?" He teased, setting his cards down and resting his chin in his hand.

"You're really pretty, Robin." You mumbled. Shit. You spoke without thinking. Was Robin going to be disgusted? You knew he was gay, but still. He probably just saw you as a friend and now you just ruined the only friendship you had and-

"You think so? You're not so bad yourself, Y/n." He chuckled again, he seemed to be enjoying how embarrassed you were.

You looked up at him, locking eyes with him, unsure of what to say. Luckily you didn't need to say anything, since Robin seemed to have that covered.

"Do you have a crush on me, Y/n?" That cocky smile on his face mixed with the question was enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You dumbly nodded, words failing when you opened your mouth.

"Good, because I like you too." Robin sat up and leaned over, completely disregarding the cards on the bed. He plopped down next to you, and you froze, unsure of what to do.

"C-can i-" you locked eyes with him, then glanced down at his lips, then back at him again.

Robin nodded, and you tentatively leaned in, pressing your lips against his. Kissing Robin was simultaneously everything you expected and completely different. The feeling of your lips hurriedly and sloppily moving against his made you want to pass out right then and there.

After a few seconds, the two of you pulled away and rested your foreheads against each other. You stared into his eyes, smiling so wide your cheeks were sore.

The both of you weren't sure what to say. But nothing really needed to be said. You both liked each other, and that was all that mattered to you.

A/N: i am so sorry that this one is kinda sucky and rushed!! But still, I hope you enjoy it!!

[merakiui]

I've thought about something and haven't noticed anyone mentioning it. So everyone know Azul has self esteem issues that involves him eating less to slim down. I feel like Azul would really care about his s/o looks almost to the point of Vil. Especially if he was to take Mc away to or near his home. He would want to mc to wear tight fitting clothes, have their hair alway done, expensive jewelry, etc as a way to show his former middle school classmates "You bullied me about my looks, but look at me now, and my wife/girlfriend to show it!" The worse it could get id if he was to lower their food portions to keep her a certain weight.

Azul definitely makes you wear expensive, luxury brands as a means of showing how well-off he is and how he can easily provide for his beloved angelfish. He'll keep his hands on you at all times so that everyone knows you're his. Most merfolk rarely have the chance to truly interact and bond with humans, especially if they're from perilous depths or certain areas where humans don't frequent (like the cold northern part where the trio are from). So I think most merfolk who see you when Azul brings you to visit are more curious and eager to meet you than anything else. Of course they'll focus on your legs, but for those who aren't knowledgeable on humans or human beauty standards they won't have any basis to judge. Azul's parents adore you, by the way! They both can't wait for the wedding and the day when you and Azul give them beautiful grandchildren!

Azul, on the other hand, is willing to go to extremes just so you'll love him. He's constantly checking his weight and looking at his body in the mirror. He's always worried that if he eats too much and gains even a sliver of weight you'll notice and won't like him as much anymore. He absolutely can't go back to how he was before. Even the twins fret over how little he eats, though they only do this because if he keeps neglecting his diet he won't be as "yummy-looking and squishy" anymore, and that destroys Azul's confidence. He's not supposed to be squishy! He's supposed to look beautiful and slim and attractive.

He needs your attention and validation so that he knows that all of his suffering is worth it. But when you look at him with such pity and worry in your eyes... When you tell him that you don't like where he's going with this and that you think he's fine as he is, he has trouble believing it. Should he steal someone's good looks through one of his contracts? Will you look only at him if he's as perfect as the models and idols on TV? Will you love him if he chooses to live off of rice and what scant attention you can throw his way rather than eating three healthy meals each day?

If you were to stop loving him, he'd think it was all his fault. Was it because his personality is too much? Is his appearance unattractive? Do you hate him because he's a clumsy octopus? When he sees who has captured your heart (it's probably a hasty misjudgment; you might not even be in love with anyone), he immediately compares himself to them. It's not fair. Why can't you just wholeheartedly admire him, love him, look at him? The more he dwells on these troublesome questions, the more emotional he gets and that's when things begin to spiral.