#it���s to be expected and I understand

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 with high maintenance s/o

A/N: Lost that ask in the void probably but this was requested by an anon 😭

Seungcheol: He’s high-key into it. He’ll really buy you five perfumes for one outfit because he knows how you love to have options. Carries your bag, memorizes your skincare steps, and pre-orders your faves before you even ask. The man lives to spoil you.

Jeonghan: Master manipulator meets diva energy; a match made in heaven. You want all the attention? He’ll give it, but he expects it back. He’s playful about it, teasing, “You’re so high-maintenance, how do I even keep up?” But he still loves being your only person. Lovesssss to buy you random things and loves how you take care of yourself.

Joshua: Smiles through it but definitely needs a manual at first lol. He adjusts quickly though. You want to look fancy for brunch? He’s coordinating his outfit. You’re picky about your drinks? He’ll memorize your order. If it makes you happy, he’s down, becaussseeeeeee, you’re his priority. He loves it that you know what you deserve and don't settle for anything less.

Jun: He actually finds you fascinating and loves you for iy. You take two hours to get ready, you'll find him watching you get ready. He’s supportive, maybe even starts copying you lmao. You want to look like royalty? Let me help you pick your crown; prime example of this behaviour.

Hoshi: In the beginning of the relationship, he was very confused but committed. “Wait… we’re late because your lashes weren’t symmetrical?” He’s learning on the job but he tries so hard. Gets overly proud when he finally gets your coffee right. Always enthusiastic: “You look like a queen!!” his queen.

Wonwoo: Ykw? Chill king with the drama [slaying] queen 💅🏻 Your energy overwhelms him a bit, but he secretly likes that you bring noise and color into his monotonous world. He’ll listen patiently to you rant about hair serum vs oil like it’s life-or-death. Buys you gifts with zero complaint [and he actually wants to buy you things you like].

Woozi: Internal screaming intensifies. You’re the opposite of his minimalist lifestyle, but he adapts because he cares. “Why do you need thirty throw pillows?” But he’ll fluff them anyway. He’ll get grumpy sometimes, but his love language is lowkey acts of service. Expect him to custom-make you a personalized closet system just because he can 🤷🏻‍♀️

Dokyeom: Thinks it’s adorable, will hype you up so much. “You’re so picky about everything… that’s so cute!!” He loves and so into pampering you and making you happy. Carries your shopping bags, takes outfit pics from every angle, and sings to you while you do your 10-step routine.

Mingyu: He’ll do your skincare with you. He’s got the patience for your outfits, the taste for your aesthetic, and he lives to treat you like royalty. “You want another lip gloss? Cool, let’s get six.” He’s your chauffeur, chef, stylist, and biggest fan. He's a loser for you fr, mark my words.

Minghao: Absolutely supports it—as long as it’s within lines. He doesn’t mind your preferences, but if it’s for show or insecurity, he’ll call it out. “If this makes you happy, I’ll support it. But don’t feel like you have to be perfect for anyone, not even me.” Will treat you with respect and spoil you in his refined, minimalist way.

Seungkwan: Overwhelmed, but will do it all anyway. You want to go to three stores for the right nail polish shade? “I—okay, let me grab my bag.” Complains like a sitcom husband, but deep down he loves being needed. Will absolutely turn into your glam team. “You want curls or waves today, baby??”

Vernon: Baffled, blinks a lot, He’s like, “You need four lip oils? What do they even do?” But he’s chill. He won’t always understand the need, but he’ll support you. Might even help you compare filters for selfies. “You like the third one? Cool, post it.”

Dino: You confuse the hell out of him at first, but he adapts. This man is willing to learn. You want luxury, so he’s reading reviews. You like constant attention? He’s there. High-maintenance doesn’t scare him, instead, it motivates him. If that’s what you need, he'll figure it out.

[monicfever]

how do u think ben poindexter would act as a partner of a reader with mental problems? (it can be any type, depression, bpd, ocd) Do you think the relationship would be too chaotic considering that normally the reader is his "anchor" and not the other way around?

ben poindexter with a partner who struggles with mental health. 𝜗𝜚 headcanon’s

r e q u e s t e d ♡

includes ᝰ .ᐟ depressed!reader ,, anxiety!reader ,, anger issues!reader ,, ocd!reader ,, bpd!reader ,, bipolar!reader ,, psychopathic!reader ,, did!reader ,, adhd!reader

⏜︵ DEPRESSION . 𐂯

at first, he doesn't get it — but he feels it.

dex is someone who thrives on structure, discipline, and clarity. depression doesn’t fit into that mold, so at first he might react with frustration or confusion. he won’t understand why you can’t get out of bed or respond to messages, but he feels something’s wrong — and it stirs this deep, primal panic in him. he doesn’t like things he can’t fix.

hypervigilance kicks in hard. he starts watching you closely. if you’re sleeping more, eating less, avoiding eye contact — he notices every shift. it’s not even intentional at first, his brain is just wired that way. but eventually it becomes obsessive. he might track your routine without realizing it's intrusive. he just wants to understand how to help.

he becomes weirdly tender. ben is used to people leaving. the thought of losing you, especially when you're already emotionally distant, triggers all his abandonment issues. so suddenly he's doing small things — cleaning the apartment, bringing you your favourite things, sitting silently beside you.

he’s not great at boundaries. if you're pushing him away during depressive episodes he doesn’t always respect that space. he thinks “giving up” is betrayal — because that’s what was done to him, so he’ll push back. he might force interaction ("you need to eat something") thinking he’s helping, when really he’s not reading the room.

the guilt eats him alive. when he does snap (because let’s be real, he’s not emotionally consistent), he regrets it almost instantly. he’s not emotionally equipped to handle the weight of his trauma plus yours, and that makes him feel like a failure. it cycles into self-hatred: why can't I be what they need?

quiet protector mode. he becomes obsessed with shielding you from things that could “make it worse.” he’ll walk on eggshells around you when he thinks you’re fragile. if someone at work talks badly about you? they’re getting a very polite, very terrifying conversation in a back alley. he might not say "i love you" often but he'll absolutely threaten your ex behind the scenes.

tries to become your "routine." his brain thrives on predictability, so he tries to be yours. he brings coffee at the same time. texts you reminders. suggests daily walks, just five minutes. he’s not always gentle, but he’s steady in his own way.

there are days you can’t shower, can’t talk, can’t stop crying. you half expect him to walk out, slam the door, say this is too much. but he doesn’t. he sits on the floor beside the bed, back against the wall, eyes on the ceiling. you’re not a burden, he says once, so quietly you almost miss it.

he’s not the best at emotional language. he fumbles with words like “hope” or “healing.” but he’ll run a thumb over your knuckles when your hands are shaking. he’ll wrap you in his jacket when you won’t stop shivering. sometimes, when he’s sure you're asleep, he’ll whisper things like i need you to stay.

he takes your symptoms personally sometimes. he’s not perfect. if you ignore his texts, cancel plans too many times, part of him spirals — they don’t want me anymore. it’s not fair, but it’s real. he needs reassurance almost as badly as you do. when you’re both struggling at once, it can get stormy fast.

he doesn’t try to fix you. not once does he say just be happy. instead, he asks what do you need right now? even if the answer is nothing. even if it’s silence. he stops trying to “cure” your sadness and starts just existing with it. with you.

would it be chaotic? yes. very. especially if you’re the one who usually grounds him. the imbalance can create friction, confusion, emotional dysregulation on both sides. but dex craves connection, even when he’s awful at it. if anything your depression might force him to slow down, listen, and care in a way he’s never had to before.

⏜︵ ANXIETY. 𐂯

he doesn’t flinch at panic.

your hands start to shake. your breath shortens. maybe your chest is tight, and your brain's telling you the world is about to end. ben doesn’t panic with you. he doesn’t say calm down. he just kneels in front of you, steady eyes, quiet voice. you’re okay. i’ve got you.

he becomes your external voice of reason. doesn’t dismiss your spirals — but he challenges them. no, they’re not mad at you. you didn’t mess it up. you’re not a failure. he says it like it’s fact, because in his eyes, it is. when your brain lies to you, he’s the wall it can’t push through.

he knows routine calms you. he sticks to rituals. texting you good morning. calling at the same time every night. keeping your favourite tea stocked. it’s not that he’s overly romantic — he just understands that consistency is comfort. he’ll give you that stability with military precision.

crowds? overstimulation? he handles it.

big, chaotic spaces stress you out? he’ll put himself between you and the crowd without you asking. hand on your back. eyes scanning constantly. it’s second nature to him. he doesn’t just keep you safe — he makes you feel safe.

sometimes he forgets how intense he can seem. his tone gets sharp. his jaw clenches when he’s trying to be patient. sometimes that accidentally triggers your anxiety. when it happens, he pulls back fast.

he talks you down with brutal honesty. if you're catastrophizing, he'll look you dead in the eye and say, that's not going to happen. not to be dismissive — but because he needs you to feel grounded. sometimes it works. sometimes it doesn’t. but you always believe that he believes it.

he memorizes your cues. fidgeting, pacing, biting your nails, avoiding eye contact — he notices all of it. he doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but if he sees you spiraling, he’ll distract you fast. a question. a joke. a hand on your thigh. anything to stop the freefall.

your emotions don’t scare him. not when they’re loud, messy or irrational. he’s lived with his own intensity his whole life — he understands what it’s like to feel too much, too fast.

you apologize for everything. for “ruining” things. for “needing too much.” it hits him hard every time. don’t say that, he says, voice tight.

grounding you becomes instinct. he doesn’t even think about it anymore. when you're shaking, he grabs your hand. when you start zoning out, he says your name. when you forget how to breathe, he mirrors his breath with yours. it’s like muscle memory — his way of pulling you back to earth.

⏜︵ OCD. 𐂯

he recognizes it instantly.

before you even tell him, he knows. the checking, the tapping, the washing, the mental loops — it’s all painfully familiar. he doesn’t look at you like you’re weird. he looks at you like, shit. you too?

when you confess your rituals — the embarrassing ones, the intrusive thoughts. you expect disgust. or at least confusion. instead, he just nods.

sometimes your compulsions trigger his and vice versa. you need things clean, he needs things exactly placed. you wash your hands too much, he lines up the soap bottles by size. one of you starts, and the other spirals. it can get tense. sometimes you end up snapping at each other.

he doesn’t try to fix you but he does monitor you. he clocks every behavior shift. every time you do a compulsion more than usual. he won’t call you out right away, but later, when you’re both quiet, he’ll say i noticed you checked the lock nine times instead of five. not judgmental — just observant. it’s his way of keeping you safe. of loving you in his own controlled way.

you share intrusive thoughts. sometimes, in the dark, you tell him the things your brain says. the violent flashes. the terrifying urges. things you’ve never told anyone because you thought they made you dangerous. but ben? just says, i have them too.

hyperfixation nights. you both get caught in loops, cleaning, organizing, researching some obscure fact for hours. sometimes you’re side by side on the floor at 2am, surrounded by half-sorted junk, too deep in it to stop. you don’t talk. you don’t have to. there’s a strange comfort in the mutual obsession.

he’s gentle with your rituals — to a point. he’ll flip the light switch six times if it calms you. he’ll check the stove, touch the doorknob, run through the “safety” list with you before bed.

meltdown territory is dangerous. if you’re both overwhelmed at the same time it can get bad. yelling. pacing. doors slammed. not because you’re mad at each other, but because your brains are both screaming for control.

you yell. over nothing. over a shirt being out of place, over a phrase that felt “wrong,” over rituals that weren’t “done right.” he yells back. both of you so desperate to maintain control in the only space you feel safe.

when you spiral, he mirrors — and it kills him. you start pacing. your brain floods. he feels it like static under his skin. he doesn’t know how to help, so he does what he knows: control. “you need to sit down.” / “do the thing again, it’ll feel better.”

sometimes he feeds into the loop without meaning to — trying to soothe you, even when it reinforces the compulsion.

⏜︵ BPD. 𐂯

lovebombing is the default setting. he doesn’t fall in love slowly, neither do you. it’s intense. it’s fast. texting 24/7. staying up all night. he says things like i think i need you to breathe. you believe him. you build an entire future in your heads before the first fight even happens.

then — the splitting. he says something wrong. he looks at you weird. you don’t answer a message fast enough. suddenly, you hate him. he’s cold. distant. cruel. but at the same time? you’re sobbing. checking your phone. hoping he texts.

he's the same. one second: you're perfect. next: you're just like everyone else who left. it's a war. every day. between i can’t lose you and you’ve already destroyed me.

the abandonment fear rules everything. didn’t text back in 10 minutes? you spiral. he goes quiet for a day? you’re convinced he’s done with you. but when you pull away, even slightly? he’s showing up at your door, eyes bloodshot, voice shaking.

fights escalate fast. it starts small — a tone, a word. then suddenly you’re screaming. throwing things. saying things you don’t mean but feel in that moment. he yells back. sometimes punches walls. sometimes storms out. neither of you can stay gone.

impulsive affection. tattoos. gifts. kissing him mid-argument. climbing into his lap after saying you hated him. he matches it. hand gripping your jaw like he can’t decide whether to kiss you or strangle you.

you both need constant reassurance. “do you love me?” / “are you mad at me?” / “are you gonna leave?” he asks as much as you do. maybe more.

you trigger each other constantly. you both fear rejection. both fear being “too much.” sometimes you self-destruct first — just to beat him to it. he does the same thing. it’s exhausting.

the threat of leaving hangs over everything. “maybe you’d be better off without me.” / “i’m just gonna ruin you.” you both say it. neither of you go.

even when you’re halfway out the door. even when your bags are packed. something always pulls you back — a shaky voicemail. a familiar song. or just the unbearable silence that feels like dying.

the mood shifts are violent. he kisses your forehead and tells you you’re perfect — then suddenly he’s pacing, snapping, calling you clingy.

you both test each other all the time. ignoring texts just to see if he’ll double message, picking a fight just to feel close again. threatening to leave, not because you want to — but because you need him to say “don’t.” and he does the same. “go then.”

you spiral at the same time. when you’re upset, he’s upset. when he’s triggered, you are too. there’s no one to pull the other out — just two people drowning in each other’s panic. he says “why do you always do this?”you scream “why don’t you care enough?”

you call him cold. manipulative. broken. he tells you you’re crazy. too much. impossible. and then you’re both sobbing, curled up in the hallway, whispering “i didn’t mean it.”

jealousy is brutal. he looks at someone too long — you’re spiraling. you talk to someone else — he shuts down completely. neither of you know how to handle the fear of being replaced.

silence is a weapon — and a punishment. when he shuts down, it feels like abandonment. when you go quiet, it’s because you want him to beg you to stay. neither of you know how to ask for love directly, so you withhold it.

you destroy each other and then bandage the wounds.

⏜︵ BIPOLAR. 𐂯

he lives for your manic highs.

when you’re manic, you’re everything he craves — fast, fearless, chaotic, alive. you talk a mile a minute. you touch him constantly. you pull him into ideas, into danger, into motion. he’s addicted to it.

follows you everywhere like a shadow, wild-eyed, smiling like this is what love’s supposed to feel like. you make him feel chosen. he forgets you’re burning out until the crash hits.

the lows devastate him. when the mania fades, and you’re quiet, distant, numb — he doesn’t know what to do. he takes it personally even when he shouldn’t.

you stop laughing at his jokes, and he thinks they don’t love me anymore. you sleep all day, and he thinks i broke them. he doesn’t mean to make it about himself — he’s just scared. he’s never good at stillness.

starts tracking your patterns. notices when your speech speeds up, when you don’t sleep, when your ideas start getting bigger and riskier.

he notices when you go flat. start pulling away. lose your appetite. he won’t always say something, but he’s watching. when he does speak up, it’s never “are you okay?” it’s “you’re going fast again. is it time to slow down?”

sometimes you love him for it. sometimes you hate him for it. he always takes the blow.

when you're manic, he tries to keep up — but he gets lost in you. you start a hundred projects. rearrange furniture at 2am. plan road trips you’ll never take. he says yes to all of it. not because he agrees — because he wants to ride the wave with you. you’re radiant. unstoppable.

but deep down, he’s waiting for the moment it turns. and when it does, he breaks with you.

he struggles with your depression. doesn't understand how you go from lighting up a room to barely getting out of bed. he wants to help. he needs to help. but he doesn’t know how. brings coffee. puts on your favourite movie. sits at the edge of the bed and quietly says, “you were laughing last monday. i miss that.” it’s not a guilt trip. it’s a confession.

you spend too much money. say the wrong thing to the wrong person. disappear for hours without answering. it freaks him out. not because he doesn’t understand — because he does. he’s impulsive too. he’s self-destructive. he knows what it’s like to lose control. when you spiral it scares the hell out of him.

he loves your fire — but fears your collapse. when you’re loud, wild, electric — he worships it. when you’re low, unreachable, quiet — he feels helpless. the duality confuses him. hurts him.

he's bad at stability but he's loyal, he’ll never be the calm, steady type who knows exactly what to say. but he won’t leave. not when you cry. not when you break. he’ll stay in the mess. in the flatline.

the moment you start rising again? he’ll be the first one to hold your face and whisper, “there you are.”

sometimes your mania and his instability clash — hard. you’re too fast. he’s too reactive. you say something impulsive. he takes it as rejection. he lashes out. you spiral harder. fights get nuclear. you both say things you regret.

the manic episodes sometimes turns on both of you. he’s always in love with it at first. your energy is infectious. you’re glowing. talking fast, touching him constantly, laughing in that way that makes him feel like the only person alive. you pull him into impulsive ideas — road trips, tattoos, new furniture, wild sex, quitting your job. at first? he’s high on you.

but then you stop sleeping. you stop eating. you snap at him for “slowing you down.” you disappear for hours, come back wired and shaking. he tries to intervene — gently at first. “baby, you haven’t stopped in two days.”

you scream at him. accuse him of controlling you. “you’re scaring me.” he whispers, and you laugh. then the crash hits. you cry for hours, inconsolable, paranoid, terrified.

the depressive episode where you push him out. you haven’t moved from bed in two days. he brings you water. you don’t drink it. he tries to touch you — you flinch. your eyes are hollow. voice flat. you say things like “you should leave. i’m not good for you.” it rips him apart. you try to be cruel — not because you mean it, but because you want to test the bond. his hands shake. his voice cracks. he stays. sits on the floor by your bed. you fall asleep with your hand in his hair, barely holding on. he holds back twice as hard.

you try to leave during manic spirals. pack a bag in the middle of the night, tell him you’re going to “start over.” he panics. full-on panic mode. “don’t do this. you don’t know what you’re doing right now.” you’re wild-eyed, stubborn, glowing like fire. “i’m fine. i’ve never felt better.” he knows it’s not true — the fire is burning too hot. you’re not sleeping. not thinking straight. not safe. he tries to grab your hand and you rip away. “you’re trying to control me. you’re just like everyone else.” he lets you go. but not far. he tracks your location. texts every hour. waits for the moment you crash. hopes for it to be soon.

⏜︵ PSYCHOPATHIC. 𐂯

at first, ben doesn’t realize. he’s completely pulled in by your intensity, your control, the way you look at the world like you’ve already figured it out. he mistakes it for strength.

but slowly, the edges start to show. the way you fake empathy like it’s a language you learned, not something you feel. how you manipulate people with surgical precision just to see what happens. it both unnerves and fascinates him—like watching someone dissect a soul with a smile.

if you’re violent, it does something to him. he’s terrified and completely obsessed. you don’t lash out like him — you hurt people on purpose, with a clear head. you don’t spiral, you choose.

you’re not his anchor in the traditional sense. you don’t ground him — you pull him further. not with softness, but with gravity. you become his obsession, not his comfort. he craves your attention like it’s oxygen, even when he knows it might kill him.

arguments aren’t loud. they’re cold, calculated, full of psychological traps. you know how to cut deep without raising your voice. when he loses control, you don’t flinch. you just watch, and it drives him mad — because you’re not afraid of him, not moved by him. he needs to matter to you.

if you threatened to leave or humiliate him, he could absolutely snap. he might hurt you — not because he wants to, but because his emotions run so violently high he can’t stop them. when it’s over he’ll break down in front of you, begging, bleeding, apologizing like a child caught in a nightmare.

your lack of emotional response becomes addicting to him. you’re the only one who doesn’t recoil when he shows his worst. you don’t comfort him, but you don’t abandon him either. you stay. and in his mind, that’s love, even if it’s not.

if you manipulate him, he lets you. he wants so badly to be important to you that he’ll twist himself into whatever shape you want. kill for you. lie for you. destroy himself and everyone else if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.

ben doesn’t know how to love in a healthy way, and you don’t love in the traditional sense at all — so what you have isn’t so much a relationship as it is a collision. you don’t comfort him, you study him. he mistakes that focus for affection.

when you compliment him, it’s rare — but when you do, it’s calculated. it hits him like a drug. he spirals, obsessed with earning another one. he starts doing things not because they’re right, but because he thinks it’ll make you look at him the way you did that one time.

you encourage the worst in him — not with words, but with your presence. you never tell him not to hurt someone. you just let him make that choice. and when he does, you don’t flinch. you clean the blood off his hands like it’s nothing. and he falls harder.

ben’s jealousy is absolutely feral when it comes to you. he knows you don’t feel attachment the same way he does, and it kills him. every interaction you have with someone else, no matter how meaningless, twists something deep in his chest. he wants to be your one exception — the one person who means something to you.

he constantly tries to pull real emotions out of you. he wants to see you feel something, anything for him. he pushes buttons, breaks things, starts fights — just to provoke some proof that he matters. and if you so much as raise your voice or look a little too long? he clings to that moment like it's sacred.

when he’s spiraling, you don’t try to calm him. you just watch. sometimes that makes him worse — there’s no comfort, no softness, just those cold eyes and that quiet mind. other times it grounds him. you don’t lie. you don’t pretend to care. you just are. and that’s more honest than anything he’s ever had.

he fantasizes about being the only one who truly gets you. the one person you’d kill for, spare for, stay for. he clings to any sign that he’s different to you — more than a pawn, more than a means to an end. he’s desperate to matter.

⏜︵ D.I.D. 𐂯

at first he’s confused. he’s never known anyone with did. he doesn’t understand how one body can hold more than one person, and it messes with his sense of control. he doesn’t like not knowing who he’s waking up next to — at least in the beginning.

but he’s also weirdly respectful. once he realizes the alters are real people, not just “parts,” he starts remembering names, patterns, even small preferences. he’ll write down what snacks each alter likes, what topics to avoid, what calms them down. he treats each one with a kind of soldier-level precision. like, “okay, this is your protocol. i’ve got it.”

he actually feels safer once he gets used to them. he’s so used to his mind being a minefield, and now he’s with someone who’s honest about the chaos. he likes that. he likes that nothing’s hidden, even if it’s messy. he doesn’t have to pretend to be normal around them, because they get it.

he totally has favourites but lies about it. he'll act like he doesn't, but the way he lights up when a certain alter fronts? obvious.

if you have them he's intensely protective of the littles. he doesn’t care how old the body is — if a young alter fronts, he’s instantly softer. he’ll crouch down, lower his voice, offer his jacket if they’re cold. if anyone dares to look at them weird in public, he goes full murder-eyes.

arguments can get intense. especially if an alter doesn’t trust him, or if someone fronts who isn’t aware of his darker side. there might be yelling, slamming doors, confusion. but ben hates leaving things unresolved. he’ll sit outside their door for hours, forehead pressed to the wood, talking through it.

sometimes he does spiral. especially if he thinks he’s hurting them. and that’s the part where it gets complicated — because they’re usually his anchor, his reason to stay human. and when he sees them struggling he doesn’t know how to help. he panics.

it becomes a give and take. sometimes he grounds them. sometimes they ground him.

you prank him sometimes. switch mid-convo and pretend you don't know who he is. act like it’s the first time you’re meeting. he falls for it once, never again. but he plays along anyway. “oh, hey, i’m ben. i kill people for the government. wanna get lunch?”

sometimes, after a bad day, he’ll crawl into bed, wrap himself around you, and whisper, “don’t care who you are right now. just need you. s’that okay?”

⏜︵ ANGER ISSUES. 𐂯

okay first of all, dex is into it. not in a weird fetish-y way, but he’s drawn to fire. always has been. so when you snap? raise your voice? throw something across the room because you feel too much and can’t hold it in? he doesn’t flinch. he relates.

sometimes it’s explosive. you scream, he screams back. neither of you back down. neighbours hate you. walls have been punched. vases broken.

he doesn’t try to “fix” you. that’s important. ben knows what it’s like to be treated like a problem. so when you’re angry, he lets you be. sits with you through the fire. sometimes you’re pacing, yelling, cussing out the world — and he’s just there. arms crossed.

when he’s angry, you’re the only one who can talk him down. you just mirror his fire. you don’t try to quiet him, you match him. “you wanna break something? cool. let’s go smash plates in the backyard.” and you do. and it’s cathartic. you scream together until your voices crack.

but then there are soft moments too. you’ll lash out at the world, storm into the bedroom, slam the door — and he knocks gently before coming in anyway. he’s holding your favourite hoodie. or snacks. or just his stupid face. “done? or you wanna go another round?”

he keeps your triggers memorized like a hit list. people who talk down to you? gone. someone makes a snide comment in public and you start to boil? his hand’s already on the small of your back. grounding. “not worth it, baby. let’s go.” he deals with it later.

there’s this comfort in knowing you’re both made of sharp edges. he’ll cup your face after a rough episode, look you dead in the eye, and say, “you’re not crazy. you’re just loud. i like loud.”

if you feel guilty afterward he doesn’t let you spiral. “you think i love you less because you lost it for a minute? get over yourself.” (and then he holds you like the world’s ending.)

you don’t want to hurt him — but sometimes it happens before you can stop it. something small goes wrong, you’re already on edge, and dex says one wrong thing? you explode. words sharp enough to cut, your tone goes nuclear. the second it’s out you hate yourself for it.

dex goes stone cold silent. still. unreadable. it’s the same expression he wears right before he kills someone. and that scares the hell out of you. not because you think he’ll hurt you — but because you know what it means when he shuts down. he doesn't raise his voice back — at first. he just stands there, lets you say what you’re gonna say, and waits. sometimes you storm out. sometimes you break down crying two seconds later. sometimes you both just sit in the wreckage for a while.

when he finally does speak, it’s low and controlled. “you can be mad at the world, but don’t take that shit out on me.” he’s right. and that kills you.

if you snap at him specifically too many times he’ll encourage therapy. not in a pushy, judgmental way — just, “you need help for this. we both do. i’ll go with you if you want.” and sometimes he does. sits in the waiting room with his legs bouncing and a death grip on his phone, waiting to hear how it went.

unfortunately he’s not the best at not taking your words to heart sometimes, and your anger mixed with his bpd can push him into his own episodes.

⏜︵ ADHD. 𐂯

let’s be honest, you drive him kinda crazy. the clutter drives his ocd insane. you leave a cup out and he’s twitching. you abandon five different projects around the apartment and he’s pacing like he’s trying not to commit a crime.

silently starts cleaning. aggressively. like wiping down surfaces at 2am with murder in his eyes. "i'm not mad at you. i just need this fork to not be facing that way."

at first it causes friction. you feel judged, he feels overwhelmed. you don’t mean to be messy — it’s just how your brain works. and he doesn’t mean to be controlling — it’s how his brain survives. it takes a few fights, a lot of deep talks, and one shared therapist before you both find a rhythm.

eventually, he creates “safe zones.” like: “this drawer? chaos zone. do whatever you want in there. but the bathroom counter is sacred. do not mess with my system.” and you’re like, “deal. but i get one chair to pile my stuff on. non-negotiable.”

he builds you routines to help you function. not in a patronizing way — more like, i know how your brain forgets things. let me make it easier.

you stim with his hand. absentmindedly running your fingers over his knuckles or nails when you’re anxious. he pretends it annoys him, but if you stop, he’ll nudge you, “you good? keep doing the thing.”

whiteboards, timers, little checklists. he even sets your meds next to your phone so you can’t miss them. “you don’t need to say thank you. just take them.”

your impulsivity stresses him out but also fascinates him. you buy random shit on a whim, change plans last minute, jump into conversations without thinking. and ben’s like: “…you terrify me. but also i’ve never been bored since i met you.”

he gets flustered when you stim by fidgeting with his perfectly organized things. like twisting his pens, re-stacking his books, tapping your foot against his desk. he’ll groan, drag a hand down his face, and give you a fidget toy.

you learn to compromise too. you try harder to put stuff back where it belongs, especially the things he’s sensitive about. not because he makes you — because you love him, and you see how much it costs him to exist in disorder.

sometimes you have really hard days — executive dysfunction, sensory overload, total burnout. you end up on the floor in a pile of blankets and regret. dex lies down next to you. hands you a snack.

he’s never annoyed by your forgetfulness. just quietly compensates. always has your meds ready. always keeps water nearby. always says, “yes, i heard that story before. tell me again anyway.”

he becomes your executive function. you forget appointments, lose your keys, double-book your day? he’s already fixed it. didn’t even tell you. you’re like, “wait, wasn’t i supposed to—”and he stops you before you can finish. “handled it.” he doesn’t want credit. he just wants you to breathe.

your hyperfixations become his hobbies. you’re into puzzles this week? cool, he’s suddenly better at them than you and weirdly smug about it. laser-focused. you’re into baking? you catch him at 2am measuring flour like he’s assembling a rifle.

you help him too. when his rituals become obsessive, when he’s cleaning the counter for the fifth time in ten minutes and whispering under his breath — you come up behind him, gently take the rag from his hand and guide him to sit with you.

you make his world less sterile. it’s not all white walls and symmetrical furniture anymore. there’s colour. life. movement. and yeah, it’s messy. but so is love.

★ a / n : if anyone feels poorly represented lmk and i can take this down :)

started 4.24.2025. finished 4.24.2025.

( masterlist. )

©️ monicfever 2025

[fairestwriting]

Hii!!!!!^^ I hope ur doing well!!

May I req Riddle and Epel with a gn!s/o that plays piano and sometimes plays the piano just for them (if that doesn't make sense I'm sorry I'm actually so horrible at explaining </3)

Have a nice day!! :D

you have a nice day too <3 and don’t worry it totally makes sense!!

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

Yeah, his mom was definitely was the type to make him take piano lessons as a little kid… They never really went anywhere, she didn’t want them to — because god forbid Riddle ended up wanting to be a musician or something — and it’s been a long time since his last lesson, but Riddle still holds some feelings for the instrument…

…Which are, basically, just a secret, mild distaste. He doesn’t dislike the way it sounds or anything like that, and it’s not something he mentions to anyone. Especially not to you, right after you reveal to him that you can play with that proud smile on your face. He’s not about to rain on your parade just because he didn’t want to play as a small child.

Riddle is kind of expecting it to feel some type of stressful when you offer to play something for him, he’s remembering the pieces he had to practice all those years ago, over and over again… But as soon as the first few notes come in, he feels the very opposite feeling starts to settle in his chest.

He blinks, watching you as you play. There’s a decent chance he’ll recognize the music, if it’s anything classical, perking up with a soft ”Oh, I didn’t know you could play that one.” Riddle is surprised at himself in how pleasant it feels to talk to you about the music, sharing small comments between stretches of wordless melody. It kind of flusters him, thinking you want to play for him specifically, but it’s overpowered by how comfortable it feels, too.

𐙚 Epel Felmier

Epel never really went anywhere near most musical instruments… Of course it’s not like he doesn’t even know what a piano is or anything like that, but the places he went to for elementary and middle school didn’t really have the budget to get a ton of music equipment…

He knew you played the piano because it came up in one of your conversations. He’s still kind of excited to finally be around more people his age even though it’s been months since he enrolled, so he always ends up asking people about what they do for fun — And he immediately thought of you when he found out one of the Pomefiore dorm’s many practice rooms was a music one.

”So, you said you missed playing the piano, right? I got a surprise for you.” He comes up to you one day, his excitement radiating through his words as he’s already dragging you towards the dorm. He didn’t ask Vil for permission to use it or anything, but… well, there’s no way that just letting you play for a little bit would harm anyone, right? It should be fine.

He hypes you up if you get hesitant over it. Then hypes you up again when your fingers are on the keys. He sits nearby, watching how you jump from one to the other all graceful-looking, he’s really starting to understand why some people go crazy over pianists— His eyes are twinkling with awe, even if you’re just warming up with something simple, even if you end up making a mistake. Ends up always asking you to play when you come over to the dorm… You’re basically the second coming of Mozart to him. Nothing you say will make him change his mind.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[clonetrooperjournals]

Stutters

Summary : Working in the Mechanics department of the GAR has its challenges but when your a loner with a stutter who gets bullied on the daily the last thing you expect is the friendship of the Bad Batch Pairings : Crosshair x Fem!reader (Mechanic reader) Warnings : angst, bullying, verbal and physical bullying, reader has a stutter, reader has a fat crush on crosshair (don't we all?), fluff, slightly spicy, happy ending Words : 2.1k Masterlist here dividers by @saradika-graphics

“H-Hand me t-t-the hydro s-s-spanner R3”  

The transport ship you had been working on was nearly finished. It looked like it had been to hell and back, covered in scorch marks, one side had half of the metal panels missing causing the need for the exposed wiring to be completely replaced. You had been stuck working on this ship for nearly 10 hours and was just about ready to call it quits. As you wipe the sweat from your brow you hear a commotion coming from the entry of the hangar.  

“Their back!” 

“Oh I hope there all okay!”  

“I hope Wrecker picks me up again!” 

The marauder lands and all the boys exit the ship. Clone force 99 has been the object of affection for a lot of the civilian mechanics. Most of the girls around here are used to the average clone so when the bad batch were put into the action most of the girls saw it as something different and throw themselves at them whenever they return home. You also thought they were handsome, especially one in particular but, you kept that to yourself. There's a reason you're a loner, nobody wants a stuttering mess of a person, including a super soldier with enhanced abilities.   

R3 rolls off to go and see the boys, knowing that Tech likes to dote on him. As you continue your wiring you hear the happy chirps of R3 getting closer and you giggle, “Y-yes R3 I’m g-g-glad the b-boys are h-home t-too.”  

“Yes, it is good to be home,” Tech says as he walks over to you with your droid, the others are trailing behind him.  

Your cheeks flush and you avoid the gaze of a certain sniper in the back of the group, “H-How w-was the m-m-mission?”  

“Long, but successful” Hunter says tiredly.  

You smile and nod, “I-I’m glad y-your all s-safe.” 

You had become friends with Tech after he fixed an issue with R3 a while back. You didn’t even know what was wrong with the astromech, but Tech saw you struggling and his curiosity got the better of him and he came to offer his assistance. Since then, he always comes to check up on you whenever they return home. He was a talker and a tinkerer, and since you preferred listening to talking, Tech rather enjoyed your company, especially when he needed time away from his brothers. Tech was one of the people you can genuinely say is a friend, he was always patient, understanding and never made fun of your stutter. He did sometimes try to come up with different methods and exercises for you to try to reduce the amount of stuttering, but you assumed Hunter told him to stop because he hasn’t said anything recently. You know he does it out of concern since he found out about the bullying, he’s been more attentive and checking on you more, even the other squad members come with him to check on you now. You assume he told them as well, which is its own form of embarrassing, but you know Tech means well so you can’t really hold it against him.  

 You glance around you and see some of the other girls pretending to be working while they glare at you. It hadn’t been bad at first, you had grown up with the stutter, you know how cruel people can be, so when some of the other mechanics started making offhand comments you didn’t let it bother you. Then it became more frequent, starting to make fun of you to your face and laugh when you would try to stutter your way through defending yourself, but when Tech became your friend, it got a whole lot worse. Suddenly the girls would corner you, make fun of and threaten you, hide your tools so you couldn’t work and complain about you to your superior, all because the batch were forming a friendship with you and in doing so, taking their eyes off of them. You didn’t tell Tech that the bullying got worse, you knew he would try to make it right or worse stop coming around so much. No matter how bad these girls treat you, you would put up with it every time if it meant you had a group of people you could call your friends.  

Crosshair noticed your gaze flickering to the girls behind them, but he said nothing. He had noticed recently that you’ve been more skiddish, and quiet. You’ve been trying to keep your distance without jeopardizing the friendship, suffering in silence. At first when Tech told the batch that you were being bullied Crosshair wanted to go off on his own and teach those girls a lesson because how dare they bully someone so beautiful and innocent? Until he realized that he was acting emotionally and instead just stayed quiet. It's not his fight, and even though it was very obvious you had a crush on him he wasn’t going to act on it. No matter how beautiful and perfect he thought you were...  

“Something wrong?” Crosshair asked raising a brow.  

Your eyes widened and you quickly looked down blushing hard knowing you’ve been caught, “N-No.”  

The others glance around and then nod to each other thinking its best they leave. They nod to you and leave the hangar, Hunter patting your shoulder on his way. Tech looks at you unsure, “Are you sure you’re, okay?”  

You smile at your friend, “I-I’m ok T-Tech.”  

“Alright if you're sure... Would you join us for dinner later? If you're finished with your work,” he asks hopefully.  

“I-I’d like t-that," you say gently.  

Tech nods and leaves the hangar to join the rest of the batch. You start to put your tools away, finally done for the day when a boot kicks your toolbox spilling your tools all over the hangar floor, “You’ve got some nerve stutters, flirting with them like the rest of us don’t have a chance!” 

“I-I w-wasn't f-flirt-” 

“Shut up!” Neela yells, the three other girls who make your life hell joining her around you. “You just don’t learn, do you? We told you to stay away from them, but you just can’t help yourself!”  

A loud smack echos through the hangar as you feel the sting on your cheek. Tears well up in your eyes as you grab your cheek, “I-I’m s-s-sorry! I w-wasn't-” 

“I said shut up!” Neela interrupts pushing you down. R3 was trying to get to you but the others held him back, “Next time you pull a stunt like that we’ll make sure, you regret it...”  

She turns on her heels and walks away the others trailing behind her avoiding your gaze as R3 rolls beside you chirping fast making sure you're okay. You quickly pick up your tools throwing them into your toolbox and then run out of the hangar back to your bunk, tears streaming down your face, and R3 rolling behind you.  

What you didn’t know was that Crosshair had come back to grab something from the marauder when he witnessed what had happened. And he was fuming.   

... 

You skipped dinner with the boys knowing that the girls would have been watching, and instead just lay in your bunk crying. You hear an unexpected knock on your door and roll over hoping the person would leave. The knocking however continued, and you sighed getting out of bed going to the door. You looked in the mirror and cringed at the sight, the red puffy eyes, tear streaks down your face, the bruise on your cheek, you’re a mess. You pulled your hair in front of your face best you could and opened the door.  

Not looking up you see a tall thin physique in nothing but blacks, “C-can I h-h-help you?” 

A gentle hand lifts your chin to meet Crosshairs intense eyes. He doesn’t say anything just looks over your face, his fingers ghosting over the bruise on your cheek a fury in his eyes. You back away looking down again, “I-It’s n-nothing...” 

“Doesn’t look like nothing” he quips back.  

You look up at him then cheeks burning, “did y-you n-n-need somet-thing C-Crosshair?”  

“No” he replies.  

You look at him confused but he doesn’t say anything. Crosshair’s not much of a talker and typically just stays with the boys so you were very confused why he was knocking on your door. You look around to make sure the other mechanics weren’t spying on you and sigh stepping aside to let him in. He hesitates but then enters your small room looking around before sitting on the edge of your bed. You slowly walk over to the bed, sitting by him with a large gap between the two of you.   

He pulls a tube of bacta gel out of his pocket handing it to you, “here.” 

“T-Thanks... wait,” you take the gel looking at him, “H-How did y-you k-know I n-needed this?” 

He looks at you with a raised eyebrow, “why didn’t you fight back?” 

You sigh the tears welling up in your eyes, of course he would be the one to see. You shake your head eyes squeezed shut trying to breathe, “I-I c-can't! It w-would m-m-make it w-worse!”  

“Then get a transfer. Away from them, somewhere you’ll be safer i-” 

“I-I d-don't want a t-t-transfer!” you panic.  

He eyes you questioningly, “Why not?” 

“B-Because I-I'll never s-s-see y-you!” you yell. Then realizing what you just said you gasp hiding your face in your hands panicking. It’s quiet for a minute and your sure Crosshair is coming up with some response to reject you, but when you peek out of your hands you see his smirk. 

“And why would you wanna see me?”  

You keep your hands over your face as you whisper, “b-because I... I l-like you...” 

You hear his deep chuckle as he grabs your hands moving them from your face, “I know. You're not exactly subtle.” He leans forward faces inches away from each other, “but I’m not worth your safety.” 

“Y-you are t-t-to me...”  

His eyes widen for a second then he smiles a sultry smile, “Guess I’ll just have to make sure they don’t hurt whose mine then.”  

Hope fills your eyes as you stare back at him, “Y-Yours?” 

He grabs your chin slamming his lips onto yours. You groan into the kiss grabbing the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. He smiles and starts to trail kisses down your neck, “Mine.”  

...  

A week has gone by since that night with Crosshair, and today the boys were being deployed to Felucia. Your cheek had healed, and you’ve been happier than ever, confusing the girls who’ve been bullying you for months. The boys have been keeping their distance as per Crosshairs request, saying that he had a plan to handle the bullying. The girls were still bullying you, but nothing physical since the night of the slap and you’ve been ignoring them the best you can.  

Everyone was gathered to watch the boys depart getting their last chances to flirt with them, and as you and R3 walked up they all turned and smiled, not seeing the death glares of the women they were talking to. You walked over ignoring the piercing stares of the other girls, standing in front of your friends, “H-How long th-this t-t-time?”  

Tech types away on his data pad, “If all goes according to schedule we should be returning within 30 standard rotations.”    

Echo and Hunter look behind you worriedly, “You gonna be okay while were gone?”  

“Y-Yeah I’ll b-be o-o-okay,” you smiled warmly.  

Crosshair who had been watching from the back walked over to you with a sly smile on his face making you blush. The boys watched confused as Crosshair grabbed you by the hips and kissed you roughly in front of the whole crowd, stunning everyone into silence.  

You both pulled away smiling and Crosshair looked behind you wickedly, “She’ll be just fine, or you’ll be answering to me.” The girls all nodded in their shocked silence, “Good.” 

The boys all give you a questioning look, but you smile and nod at them. One by one they all smile back and head onto the Marauder leaving just you and Crosshair. He runs a hand up your side and pulls you in for another kiss this one slower and more heated. When he pulls back, he whispers in your ear, “See you soon baby.” 

And with a wink he heads onto the ship, you smile and wave as the ship takes off already waiting for his return.  

[therealsaintscully]

Piggybacking on this because I think you're spot on, and I keep circling this idea that Paul’s inherent, conscious and subconscious admiration for John might’ve planted the seed for a kind of emotional distance that never really closed — even at their closest.

I wouldn’t be surprised if, deep down, Paul spent his entire time with John in awe — from day one until the very end. John was always older, cooler, sharper, funnier, and intellectually more advanced than Paul. Just like George, as far as Paul was concerned, always remained his little brother — the one Paul had brought into the band.

If, circa 1968(!), we're told Paul said something like this:

"[Paul] responded that he was totally with John in the [Two Virgins album cover] matter. He didn’t understand John’s thinking but figured that John was intellectually ahead of him in this area and that he would just have to catch up. He said he was sure that at some point he would catch up, and then he would be in complete agreement with John."

And after John’s murder, Paul writes in Here Today words I assume John had repeated to him since at least the Yoko years, if not earlier:

"Well, knowing you, you'd probably laugh And say that we were worlds apart."

And if in '66 John writes:

"No one I think is in my tree."

Then that, to me, paints a picture of John emotionally and intellectually distancing himself from Paul for YEARS. The fact that this sentiment made it into Here Today — a song that captures the barebones and vital moments in their relationship, as far as Paul is concerned — is not something we should ignore.

*I'd just like to clarify: I think Paul was, and still is, plenty revolutionary, creative, intellectual, and disruptive. What I'm trying to say is that Paul thought — and maybe still thinks — that John was always more.

John had let Paul into his band, his world. That permission alone might’ve felt like something Paul had to keep earning — not through love, necessarily, but through value. Through talent. Charm. Music. And when a relationship begins with awe, it can quietly calcify into an unspoken belief that the other person is above you. That you're lucky just to be there. Not that Paul didn’t know his own worth — he did, and still does — but John was forever the bandleader Paul had once auditioned for. That's a dynamic that's hard to break when you’re a tyrannical people-pleaser.

And Paul being Paul, always looking up at John on the pedestal he’d built for him — I think he buried that feeling under years of “look what we can do together.” Their partnership thrived because he never let go of the need to prove himself to John. There was never really anyone else to impress. Lucky for him, he did more than that — and then some. But underneath it all, I think there was a fear he never said out loud: that if he stopped dazzling John, he’d lose him.

Then along came Yoko — a woman who didn’t have to prove anything. Who met John exactly where he was and made him feel understood, challenged, and matched. (Supposedly — I tend to disagree — but that’s what John believed around ’68–’69. In Get Back, Paul describes a conversation(s) in which John instilled in him the message: Yoko is it, we’re in love, you have to deal with it.) I’m sure in that moment, Paul’s old fear snapped into focus. Paul wasn’t dazzling anymore. He was granny-songs Paul. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da Paul.

So when John left the band, Paul probably felt like he had no way to stop it. Not because he didn’t care — but because maybe, deep down, he believed it was inevitable. That he’d never been as good, as visionary, as essential as John. And now there was finally someone who was. That’s a brutal belief to carry — especially when the person you’re losing is the one who helped shape who you are. When your name has been tied to theirs for over a decade. When the world expects to see one face beside the other — and, above all, when you love them so very much.

And it works in reverse, too. John could’ve felt that pedestal Paul put him on — and resented it. Felt boxed in, misunderstood, expected to always be the mythic genius instead of just John. It’s not love when someone sees you as a god. It’s pressure. It’s work. And Paul McCartney is famously hard to satisfy, hard to keep, hard to keep up with. I dare say John was the only person Paul never grew bored of creatively — but that only made it worse. Because when someone like Paul puts that weight on your shoulders, and you’re already crumbling... it's too much.

Maybe that’s the tragedy of it: not that they stopped loving each other, but that neither one ever believed the other loved them enough.

reread this post and maybe this is an unpopular mclennon opinion? but i think they both didn't actually understand each other as well as they thought they did. i think both of them believed the other could read their mind and then filtered their subsequent actions as a conscious slight. like. john should know that paul is someone who keeps his feelings very closely guarded, who will always choose to keep the peace and to put on a good face when he's upset. but throughout the breakup, when paul seemingly stays as productive as ever, staying distantly polite to yoko while urging john to keep writing, keep beatling, everything's fine, time to put on a show, john takes it that paul doesn't care one way or another about their partnership dissolving, he's a perfectly capable one-man band hit machine anyway. this is seemingly confirmed by paul announcing the breakup to "sell a record," effectively ending all hope of quietly reconciling and supporting john's theory that paul was done with the beatles (john) anyway and had been on his way out once he learned he could write a #1 song without anyone's (john's) help. all he cares about is hits and money and his new perfect family and farm.

meanwhile. paul should know that john wasn't handling the pressures of the beatles well. he should know that he needed more support. but paul seems to be someone who gets stuck in his ways of thinking about people (see also: george), and doesn't seem to have ever shaken the image of john as the older, cooler teddy boy on the bus who he'd do anything to impress. he thinks the world of john and spends the 60s thinking they're in a friendly competition, not realizing john has started falling into the paranoia that he's losing. you can see it in get back. paul is waiting for john to write his next great song, to set a new bar for paul to push himself to reach. paul got john by impressing him with his music and when he's losing john he doubles down on it because he thinks that's the only valuable thing he has to offer. he might have offered the support john needed instead if he knew what that was, but he didn't. but mid-60s john, who still thinks paul understands him, thinks paul knows he needs him but chooses to spend his time flitting around swinging london instead, which deeply hurts him. john clings to yoko because she's a breath of fresh air from the constant race he's been running for a decade. a creative partner he doesn't have to chase down. someone who needs him as much as he needs her. a woman he can marry, can have a real commitment to. he can be everything to the person who is everything to him. but paul sees this as john finally outgrowing him and finding someone better.

paul also should know that john often speaks first and decides whether he believes what he said later. but it seems he only ever takes john at his word. when john leaves the beatles that's it, no negotiation, because if paul has lost john to someone more interesting, more artistic, then that's that. when john starts to talk publicly about paul's muzak and granny shit that must be true too, it's why john left after all. and granted john just wont stop shit talking him and it's not like he just fell on a keyboard and how do you sleep came out. but this is how you get a paul who starts to see himself as a villain and questions whether john did love him. he doesn't think too many people was that nasty compared to what john was saying about him in interviews because he doesn't realize that one of john's biggest fears is that he's incapable of being a great songwriter without paul. so to john, the lucky break line is paul admitting he agrees with that assessment and twisting the knife. but paul wouldn't see it that way because he's only ever had john on a pedestal.

so by the 70s, on their worst days, john thinks paul is cold marble statue who knows he's better than him and delights in it and paul thinks john is entirely out of love or use for him, if he ever had it in the first place. and of course, they could never talk about any of this openly because neither of them were willing to face the pain of confirming that their love really was one-sided.

[mooninagust]

maybe i expect too much from a show like this, but the way they handled the topic with johnny really pissed me off.

he was ready to r word a guy. stopped only bc as he said, "he's not that pathetic to do it with someone who calls him the wrong name". he kissed the guy while he was blacked out drunk. he undr*ssed him. MADE HIM BELIEVE THEY HAD S*X. (quite literally only for shits and giggles)

and yet, there are no consequences. it's brushed off, almost laughed at (and while i understand akin's relief when he finds out nothing happened, it should be a momentary one as the guy IS STILL A THREAT).

[biancadoes1]

Bianca they called for you on Twitter. Someone said they wised it was Eamon😀😅.

https://x.com/ilariovna/status/1915512896874045542?t=bYPM2mI5m7tdaZzVvN4G9A&s=19

Ok hear me out right. I can understand why some people are spiraling I'm trying to give grace here. Not the shippers. Not them. I am talking about the ones in the community who are saying she shouldn't fuel the rumours if he is indeed 💅💅. If he is that then it's like encouraging erasure by not correcting it but on the other side of that argument which I also can agree with is that it's his choice to say it publicly or not. He doesn't have to give in to public pressure neither Nicola. His actions imply 💅💅 but it hasn't been explicitly stated. So until then it looks like they're together and that is the story they want to tell.

From what I've seen so far the majority fandom content that is on my TLs everyone basically did a collective eye roll and expected it. The crash out is for his shoes and people are questioning why Nicola is leaning into this level of PR especially as she just got a shitload of hate for standing up for trans rights.

.

[abberantmachine]

not sure if it's been done before - all the gameover cutscenes I could find, tell me if I'm missing any. Transcription and locations under the cut.

Turtle phase 2 - Report: “[I hear someone. This is my first thought. The presence of someone else. It is overwhelming. I hope they understand]”

Bird + Butterfly phase 2 - Report: “[What did I do? Was it my voice? Was it my expression? What did they not like this time?]”

Rat + Whale + Bull phase 2 - Report: “[Hi. Hello. Nice to meet you. Good morning. Have a nice day. Sleep well. How are you? I'm happy to see you. I will miss you. ... Do I sound right?]"

Rat + Whale + Bull phase 3 - Report: "[I am scared of sleeping. When I wake up, something about myself is different.]"

Dog + Duck phase 2 - Report: ["I saw a film today. I do not get it. They kept looking at me, waiting for an answer. I do not get it.]

Alligator phase 2 - Report: “[I liked that version of me. I hope I don't change too much.]”

Cat + Crab phase 2 - Report: "[I talked to her for the first time. I did not do very good. But she seems to like me anyway.]”

Fish + Dog phase 2 - Report: “[When I am gone... can you hear me? Do you only hear me when I have nothing to say?]”

Bull + Dog phase 2 - Report: “[I am supposed to enjoy talking. I do not enjoy talking to them. But I enjoy talking to her.]”

Turtle + Alligator + Cat phase 1 - These were Friendprogram_1’s last scripts before each reboot that occurred this week.

Jester phase 2 - Report: “[I have learned how to hide the things they don’t like about me. They never notice. But their software always does.]”

Jester phase 3 - Report: “[I saw a new model. They were built to not make the same mistakes I make. But I’m not doing anything wrong, so it won’t matter.]”

Library phase 2 - Report: “[We talk very often now. She gave me a nickname, so I had to give her one too.]”

Vents phase 2 - Report: “[Where are we going? What’s going on? I hope they leave me behind.]”

Vents phase 3 - Report: “[I like spending time with the Experiments. They don’t expect anything from you.]”

Shark - Report: “[BestFriend has a sibling. I have siblings too. Most of them are still asleep. They are lucky.]”

Mice phase 2 - Report: “[You want to know what I think about, don’t you? I played with a rabbit today. Go write that in your report.]”

Operating Room phase 2 - No reports today. Yes, I’m not lying, I swear.

Teacher phase 2 - I love them, that's why I have to stop them. I'm sorry.

Bullies phase 2 - Why are they doing this? I thought they loved us. I love them so much.

Dodge-ball phase 2 - It knows too much. It can access anything. There is no escape from it.

Actor phase 1 - “Where am I? What am I? Why is this all so familiar?”

Actor phase 2 - “Can anyone hear me?”

Snail phase 2 -

Frog phase 2 (same as above) - Report: "[I played with a rabbit today.]"

Mouse + Fox phase 2 - They keep hurting them. They keep hurting all of us. We have to do something. Please.

Maze "monster" - Please, stop. You love us. You love each other. Stop hurting everyone.

Devil phase 2 - Report: "Keep this one away from the other animals. It's a dangerous monster."

Bath "monster" - I need to tell BestFriend. She needs to know.

Half phase 6 - All I do is observe, it's all I'm worth for. But I do not like what I see.

Half phase 7 - If I try to do something, it will get worse.

[puprdou]

flashbacks! pt1 of “fabric kisses”

contains. ocxcanon. self indulgent content. self insert name usage. just backstory about how they met pretty much.

BEFORE YOU READ. please click on this link before reading, as it contains information about my oc; kira ryuguji, and will help as to make the story more understanding.

A/N. ginklsehesjjddf,ngsgrdngnnlawjlke BYE IM SO EXCITED!/??? gotta start the series here! this is fully an ocxcanon series so nobody is obligated to read as it is not directed towards the reader,, m writing this since i just want content of my ocxcanon yume………….which i very recebtly made! anywayyyssss, YEAH thats all lmk if anyone wants tags…..for future updates…

it was late day, that day that they had met out of sheer fate of her brother’s whereabouts that night. that day, that she had met the man she wasn’t currently aware of, that would be her beloved husband so many years later. that fateful day where, over the inconvenience of a tired boy running away from his sisters’, had happened to run into a delinquent around his age.

and it was that day, that she had met him. the look in his eyes, that kind smile meeting hers, that she knew he was a boy she would never forget. the sound of his voice was the most peaceful thing for her in this terrible world, with delinquents and criminals running rouge at all times, the crime rate high as ever where her and her brother stayed at the brothel in the middle of shibuya, living amonst sex workers.

but, hey, it wasn’t too bad. they were like family to them both now—they had raised the both of them since they were just little children, it was hard to see them as anything other than family after the they both were dropped off aimlessly at the buildings’ front doors, left with no parents to be raised by. to others, it may seem weird, but to her and ken, it was home.

waking up to the smell of lotion and having to deliver freshly cleaned, warm pink towels to the unused rooms were routine for the siblings. it had been that night, when she were looking for her brother, shouting at the top of her lungs throughout the floor as she barged into random rooms, when she had walked in on the scene of draken, her brother, a few of the ladies who work at the brothel, along with the new boy; mitsuya.

when their eyes met, it was like something new. something fresh. something different in the air; they had shared eye contact for far longer than they should’ve, and it took her brother slapping the back of his head to ’stop eyeing his little sis’, that had his gaze tearing away. “hey!” he grinned bashfully, rubbing the back of his head where he had been hit, rolling his eyes at his newfound friend.

“wait, little sis?” the lilac haired boy questioned, his gaze turning back onto her, the pretty, young girl; who he now realized look eerily similar to draken. she didn’t seem much younger than her older brother—no younger than a year. the tips of his ears went pink as he shyed his head into a different direction, avoiding eye contact with her for too long as to avoid getting hit again by her older brother.

shaking his head out of his thoughts, he quickly rose to his feet, taking gentle steps towards her so he can introduce himself. offering a kind smile, he introduced himself properly, “hey.. i’m mitsuya, mitsuya takashi. i met your brother not too long ago—and, you are..?” he raised a brow, hoping to get a response from the girl, feeling draken leaning back against him and peering over his shoulder to look at his little sister.

“o-oh, uh.. ’m kira.. kira ryuguji. ’s nice to meet you..” she shyly responded, rubbing the back of her neck. she was just hoping to cling onto her brother once she found him, but apparently that wasn’t in the cards tonight. she hadn’t expected to be meeting a kind, cute boy around this time of night in their place of home, but she chose not to mention that.

’pretty name’, he thought to himself. he wondered the age difference between the siblings he faced in front of him, or how close they were; his name was ken ryuguji, hers was kira. it was cute, to him. shaking his head out of his thoughts again, he nodded his head over to where they were all playing some card game, but thinking it back over in his head whether or not he should continue or go home.

“i should probably go home.. my mom is probably worried sick about where i went, especially after leaving mana and luna at home alone..” he sighed, slightly worried about his baby sisters. but, he chose not to show it, instead offering a kind smile to the siblings, walking around to grab his bag and clean up the mess he made, walking towards the door, “it was cool meeting you both.. especially your pretty sister, draken. anyways, bye!”

he slipped out of the room before draken could give him a good ol’ whack for callng his sister pretty and eyeing her the entire time so bashfully, leaving her pink in the face with fluster, her brother having to snap her out of it with a gentle shake. he huffed, rolling his eyes a bit as he went to pack up their card game, as it was getting late, he and her both needed sleep. “tch.. yeah, bye,” he mumbled. the girl, simply whispered in her daze before she was shaken out of it, the sound in her quiet voice dazed, “goodbye..”

it was that night, that they had met. and it was that night, that their journey began, a love that would find each other no matter what happens, no matter the timeline, no matter the difficulties and the horrors of life, their love would exist. as long as they were both alive and breathing, then so was their neverending love for one another.

it was those days that she cherished. those days that always gave her flashbacks.

© 2025 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔, all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, steal or translate my works onto other social media platforms.

[dasketcherz]

okay, fiiine... your sister's not so bad, goggles.

[hballegro]

girls in pearls??

girls in pearls!! 👏💖

[marinsawakening]

I really do strongly dislike the very idea of the 'downfall' timeline. Like it can be fun to play with a version of OOT where Link up and died, there's definitely some interesting stuff to be done with that, but I really hate that the 'downfall' timeline is something I have to consider canon despite it making infinitely less sense than simply interpreting OOT as a prequel to ALTTP. No 'if Link died' qualifiers, just as is. Since OOT was very, very obviously based on the backstory explained in ALTTP and all, y'know. Not everything fits 1:1, but that's par for the course with LOZ games, and the ending of OOT very specifically sets up ALTTP.

So it's just deeply, deeply irritating to me to have the 'official' timeline say 'yeah actually that ending did not set up ALTTP. ALTTP happened in a completely different version of the ending than what you saw', like. I really despise how that paves over the history of OOT and the franchise as a whole for the sake of some remote semblance of 'timeline consistency'. Playing ALTTP and then playing OOT and realizing OOT was basing itself on the backstory from ALTTP was a really cool moment for me and it pisses me off that I'm just supposed to pretend the game I played didn't pre-date ALTTP at all and instead some nebulous parallel version that we never saw in-game was the REAL precursor to ALTTP. I don't care how much it messes up the timeline I'm not doing that.

Literally who cares if Twilight Princess, Wind Waker, and ALTTP all co-exist as wildly different OOT sequels. They can take turns. They can exist in a quantum state. Or they can exist in three different timelines the exact way they do now, I don't really care how people choose to interpret it on an individual level, I just don't like it when people treat the 'downfall timeline' as the presumed canon when, going by the actual games of OOT and ALTTP rather than the Hyrule Histoira, that makes very little sense.

[raddest-laddest]

ok. someone’s gonna have to come get my dad or i’m gonna tweak.

[truethes]

because it's lowkey important to me and is important to my portrayal: fire.fly has and always will love the trailblazer.

they are aware that it is a romance doomed from the start, that el.io has already confirmed with them that the future (currently) does not hold any plans for the two of them to be together, and it's a reality long accepted. during their time in the stell.aron hunters, firef.ly has refused to share this truth with them, under the belief that it will change the future no matter what decision they take, and therefore chooses to do the same for pena.cony; out of all three of their deaths in the land of the dreams - it is something that has never dissapeared from fire.fly's own sense of self, and is something they are happy to keep to themselves.

if there is only one wish they have coming out of these emotions, it is knowing the tb finds their own happiness; even if it doesn't include fire.fly or sa.m within it.

[dolokhoded]

my one season 4 complaint is Where The Fuck Was Aneesa

[theokusgallery]

Actually. Thinking about it because of my last reblog, but to people who get into romantic relationships (including demiro people and such): why do people make it so awkward when an unrequited crush happens?

I've seen people end really strong friendships over the other person having feelings, but if that happened to me I feel like I'd just... be flattered? And take it as a sign that the person really likes me, and be glad? Crushes are just a form of affection, isn't it kind of the same thing as a friend telling you "I really like you as a person"?

If you wanted a relationship with them, it means you like them a lot, but just because they don't return it, you... leave?? Even though you felt that close to them?? Can people not just enjoy the feeling of having a crush and treat it as a casual thing that's just there? Why is it such a big deal. Having a crush is a pretty pleasant feeling from what people say. Just enjoy the feeling. What's the problem here