#like. I just. can't stop it. it's all I care about

[captain-kit-adventuress]

Let me tell you some things about American plumbers probably almost none of you know, especially because I've seen people complaining that plumbers make "$42 an hour while I can't even make $15!"

[Note that much of this is state-specific, so ymmv, but most states have an interest in keeping it pretty similar to what I'm going to outline.]

First of all, you have to be licensed, and anything licensed takes forever and costs a fortune. You spend 7 years as an apprentice plumber, which means taking full-time classes on top of full-time work, for which you definitely do not get paid $42 an hour, and you're lucky if you get $20. You're on the hook for all of the tuition and books and whatever else, tools and whatnot, and we all know tuition and books are out of control, but have you seen what decent tools cost these days? This in addition to all of the regular school stuff like a computer, an internet connection, probably a mobile phone of some description, etc. Some you may have already and some you may not.

That's just the education part. Next, even after you've completed your 7 year apprenticeship under extremely strict and exacting standards, for which you get paid almost nothing and have tons of expenses just like any other student, you're still under some kind of supervision for another few years. So you've put in about 10 years into this already and you're nowhere near pulling in the kind of income that people say plumbers make.

But once you actually get into being licensed and bonded and the whole shebang, maybe you get a job with a company, because it's really hard to hang your own shingle, especially in the larger communities where nobody knows anybody else or the quality of their work. You'll work for a plumbing company like anyone else, and let me tell you, it's like any other company where profit matters most and it's for shareholders and not anyone else.

Now comes the part you probably have never heard about: many, many, many plumbers don't really have health insurance for most of their careers, and if they do, it's like the shittiest insurance possible and they have to pay for much of their healthcare out of pocket. Except that these are plumbers, they're constantly on hands and knees on hard, unyielding surfaces, bending, lifting...really physical, difficult work. How many of you actually know how much a toilet weighs? it's anywhere between 50-120 lbs depending on a variety of factors. All that, in addition to actually diagnosing whatever the problem is and knowing how to fix it. Do that for the next 20 years of your life and you're not going to have any knees left, you're going to have a bad back, probably most of your other joints are shot or on the fritz in some way, and this is if you were healthy to begin with and didn't have many health problems during your career. Depending on the collective bargaining agreement, sometimes the unions will cover your healthcare at close to 100% after that, but when it was easier to prevent a lot of it by having time off and the ability to afford care? None of that is covered.

Not only that, but most plumbers don't really get paid time off from work, either, depending on what the agreements are. I know it doesn't seem like plumbers ever work timely, but everyone thinks they have an emergency when the plumbing breaks, and you've got to triage the for-real emergencies alongside the "Timmy backed up the toilet again because he keeps flushing his toys and now there's water and poop and who knows what else everywhere." That's not including the emergency answering services where they're relaying that stuff 24/7/365.

How is that different from most of us today, you might wonder? Because they're literally knee-deep in your shit from morning 'til night. All of the weird stuff you do to screw up your toilets, your sinks, your showers, your fixtures, your pipes, they have to deal with all of it. All of the clogs, the gross hair masses, the half-eaten food from when the disposal stops working, the people who don't know not to flush things they shouldn't, the people who do know and don't care, the floods when the sump pump stops working or there's so much rain it just completely overwhelms it, the people who are sure they can "fix" it, the people who listened to youtube or tiktok and picked the wrong accounts for advice, and most of all, metric tonnes of your actual shit and vomit and whatever other bodily excretions you've got. That is all hazardous enough on its own, and if you think it's gross, I don't think plumbers feel any differently, but it is a part of their job and there's no getting around it. They are paid to deal with all of the stuff no one else wants to even think about. And after they've been exposed to your biohazards for 10 hours a day, they themselves have to pay for any care they need to make sure they don't die from it. You know how many people have dangerous mold in their bathrooms and don't know it? I bet a plumber can tell you.

Those are the conditions with unions trying to fight for them.

[As one more note, not everyone wants to leave home, and that's fine! Why does anyone assume there are no tradespeople in cities when that couldn't be further from the truth? Don't be arses about geography.]

tl;dr: plumbers don't make the money you think they do, they spend half their career earning next to nothing and then when they finally start catching up their bodies are so shot they can't enjoy it; in the middle they have to deal with everybody's grossness and basic repair illiteracy, and they pay for most of it themselves.

source: I was an external auditor for a lot of trade unions.

some of the worst classism is white collar middle class americans against blue collar & minimum wage workers. “why does that plumber make more than me” because he’s been perfecting his craft for 30 years and you send emails. “they’re in the trades bc they’re too dumb to do anything else” ok take that engine apart and put it back together real fast babe. “they’re boring bc they never left their home town” have you considered they financially couldn’t? I am not saying it is anyone’s job to educate, nor you need to respect people who do not respect you, but while you maybe never sympathize we need to learn to empathize. consider why (who) allowed for massive parts of country to be uneducated and how many impoverished areas of this country haven’t had a voice for a very long time. we are all victims of the rich. remember it is up vs down

[angelltheninth]

When Arcane Men Get Jealous

Pairing: Viktor, Jayce, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Finn, Marcus, Loris, Steb x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, jealousy, possessive behavior, being protective, kissing in public, biting, holding hands, public display of affection, canon typical violence, suggestive

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Would die if they were jealous over me. Melt into a puddle. Gone.

When Viktor gets jealous he gets a bit more withdrawn than he usually is. Not that he was ever a social butterfly, however he was always more open and happy to talk when it was with you. So his behavior is odd, he even seems to get quieter whenever you walk into the room. Like he's trying to remove himself from you with silence.

"I am not avoiding you. Look, there has been a lot to do for the past week, I'm sorry if you got a bad impression but I was simply busy. If you want more company, go ask Jayce, or Skye, I'm sure they will be more than happy to entertain you, darling."

Viktor is short with his answers, saying as little as possible to minimize the amount of time he spends talking to you. Not because he doesn't want to talk to you, he loves talking to you, but if he keeps talking there's a chance he might say something he's going to regret. And end up hurting you.

"There you go again with these ridiculous accusations. You won't leave it alone will you? So now it's my fault that your project is running late? I would have been happy to help but someone was too busy talking with... you know what, nevermind. You're right, we both have a lot to do, so let's just drop this conversation and focus on work."

If you keep getting in the way of his work, Viktor will eventually come to a breaking point. Him not being able to work is only adding to his emotions, and he's never been the best at dealing with them. While he doesn't exactly yell at you, it's very rare that he ever raises his voice there's a notable frustration in his words, and pain, fear that you'd leave.

"If I'm being so unreasonable then leave. Go. Have fun. I know it's not idea to be cooped up in the lab all the time. There are so many more things to do out there. if you... want to go with other people I suppose I can't stop you, nor can I stop my own jealousy. How am I being even more unreasonable? I know you wouldn't leave me without talking about it. Look... I do not... want you to leave, working is more fun with you. But am I truly all that you want? Me? This lab? Because you're all I want. All that I can think of."

When Jayce gets jealous he keeps invading your personal space when you're around the person or people he's jealous of. His behavior is nothing innapropriate or pushy. It's just his arm around your waist, just him bringing you that drink you wanted, just him bragging about you a bit too loud and saying how much he loves you.

"You really are great, babe. How in Runterra did I ever find a beauty like you huh? What's that bashfulness for now, I always praise you, and I'm never gonna stop. You're my girl right? I can be a proud boyfriend and talk you up every once in a while."

Physical affection a big deal to Jayce and a way he shows he cares but also a giveaway to his jealousy. He holds your hand longer, his eyes flicker between you and the one he's jealous off, his smile is a bit more nervous when he has to leave you alone. Then there are his kisses, not as gentle, not a little, quick peck on the edge of your lips but a real kiss, lips pressed against yours until you let him know you need air.

"Got a bit carried away there. Ah, sorry, I can't resist you sometimes. All the time. Do you expect me to when you wear lipstick like that? Makes your lips look like they're made to be kissed. By me specifically. I'd kiss you all night long, for the rest of our lives and never get tired of it."

Jayce keeps denying that he's jealous when you bring it up in a teasing way. Logically there's no reason to get jealous, everyone knows your relationship is doing great, in fact you're hardly ever fighting and even when you are it doesn't last too long. How does he turn that part of his brain off? How can he not get jealous when all those people look at you the way he looks at you?

"They're always looking at you. How can you not notice? It's so obvious. You don't notice because... you're only looking at me? That doesn't even make sense! Of course they're looking, you're breathtaking everywhere you go. I just hope that wherever you go, you'll always take me with you, because I want to be by your side forever."

Ekko often jokes about being jealous so you don't pick up on him actually being jealous. A little jealousy is fine but not when it's getting in the way of his missions and operations with his team. He'd been a bit distracted in the past, by one of the Firelights flying too close to you, so he pushed his way between you two.

"It was the formation! Which you would have remembered if you weren't too busy chatting. Come on, Firefly, get your head in this. Otherwise you're gonna make your leader jealous. Wouldn't want that right? What if... what if you get demoted for it? Hey! Ow! I wouldn't demote you, who would listen to all my plans?"

When you have free time together Ekko makes sure to spend as much time with you as possible. If you're together all the time there's less chance that someone else will swoop in and flirt with you. He would never describe his behavior as being clingy, all he wants is to spend free time with his girlfriend. That is perfectly normal behavior.

"What do you say we go out to get some food? We don't have to spend all our time here. Not like the tree is gonna burn down if we're away for a couple of hours right? Besides it's been a while since it was just you and me all alone. Miss being alone with you. Don't you miss it too?"

If the person he's jealous of ever puts you in danger in any way Ekko will go off on them. Harder than he scolded others in the past. He might let some of his jealousy show then, but he storms off, well flies off before you can talk to him. As much as he wants to be alone he also makes room for you on his hoverboard when you float down next to him.

"Shouldn't have went off on them like that. I know, you don't gotta say it, I'll say I'm sorry. Let cool off a bit. You'd think that if they were flirting with you that much they could have been looking out a bit better. I'm always looking out for you. Maybe a bit too much. Sorry if I've been weird about it lately. Would you forgive me if I took you on a romantic hoverboard ride?"

No one wants to piss off a big man like Vander by flirting with his wife. Everyone values their life and their bones too much. But... they stare at you. Quite openly actually. You see it, and you bet he sees it too. He sees everything that's happening at his bar and he won't stand for someone ogling his wife, even if he has to get aggressive about it.

"It's my damn bar, I've got the right to break the table with their heads when they're looking at ya like that. Tell ya what, a lot more people would avoid this place if I started beating up every asshole that looks at ya wrong. Only reason I don't is cause I don't want ya to be mad at me after."

He hasn't banned anyone from his bar in a very long time. Vander knows he tolerates a lot, this is Zaun, and some people don't have the best manners, that's not exactly their fault. But on the other hand if they start something with him then he will finish it. When he tells them to stop looking at you like you like you were one of Babette's workers and they get in his face he will pick them up and throw them out.

"Bastards had it coming. I tried to be nice, then they had to go and call ya names. Ain't no way in hell I'm gonna let anyone insult my wife. Not here, not on the streets, not anywhere. I went there and I wanted to talk to them, tell them to fuck the hell off, they were the ones who started getting violent. So I responded in kind."

Vander calls you over to the bar a bit more often if he sees a particular table is trying to monopolize you. He carries some of the drinks over, the food plates too, or he simply walks up behind you when one of the guys is getting flirty. Seeing his imposing, huge frame behind you, his muscles bulging, is enough to get most to back off you.

"See, darlin', I can talk things out just fine. When people are being smart about it that is. Might have to stop selling so much booze in this place, then they won't be so bold with ya. Ya are a pretty sight, I can't say otherwise. But ya are a pretty sight for me, not them, ain't that right? Mhm. I know, I'm all yer's too."

Silco never ever says he's jealous of anyone. He is the most powerful man in all of Zaun, everyone is scared of him and with good reason. As the Eye of Zaun he knows when people are looking, talking too, and might even try to touch you. Those people are often payed a not so nice visit by his men.

"I did hear about that gang, yes. It's very unfortunate that they don't know how to keep their noses where they don't belong. It's not that big of a loss on our end. There are a hundred people who can do their work, and better. All that matters is that they won't even have to think about not touching you again."

He rarely has to get his own hands dirty when he gets jealous. All it takes is him saying who the target or targets are and he makes them dissapear from Zaun. That doesn't always have to be deadly, but if they're really dumb it is. If Silco feels that you're in some kind of danger then he will keep you close by. He tries to distract you from seeing he's jealous.

"All I'm saying is that we could take a break from work. Sevika and Jinx can handle a week of it. And you and me can lock ourselves up in our home and not come out. The bedroom works perfectly fine too, if you'd rather spend our time in there. And what is it that I'm doing, darling? Jealous? You are an observant one. I wouldn't want you any other way."

The only time Silco will threaten someone in person is if that someone is bold enough to flirt with you in front of them. He can scare people within an inch of their life just by talking to them, he's not just a good businessman, and some people tend to forget that. He has Zaun in the palm of his hand, and everyone in it.

"He did not actually piss himself. Did he actually. Hm, I wasn't look at him anymore to be honest. He was spineless, surprising given he talked to you like he did. Guess he was thinking with his other head a bit too much for his own good. Why are you looking at me that way? Ah, I see. Looks like someone enjoyed watching me put a scumbag into his place a bit too much."

Since Finn isn't someone who would take anything lying down he will be damned before he sees someone coming onto his woman and not do anything about it. He might have a certain charm about him but that doesn't mean he's not ready to makes heads roll the moment when someone crosses any kind of line with you. Imaginary or otherwise.

"Hah, did you see that doll? As soon as I threw one punch he went down. All his buddies ran like rats. Left him all alone there. After all that tough talk and he couldn't even defend himself. Serves him right. He's lucky all I did was break his nose when he flirted with you. I wasn't even that far away."

Finn will make out with you in front of who ever he is jealous of just to prove a point to them. And while he has you moaning, has your head buried against his neck and your body running hot he will look at the other person and stick his tongue out at them, right before making a V with his fingers and putting his tongue between them. He's vulgar but it gets the point across very well.

"All these people looking at what's mine. Now, I can't have that right? I love that you're showing off your body, it's a great body, you know how much I love it. But sometimes I want to keep you away from prying eyes. And if I can't the least I can do is give them a show. Make them know I'm the only one who can touch you."

His jacket is a signature part of his outfit, but Finn will let you wear it. Hell, he will walk over and drape it over your shoulders while not even looking at whoever you're talking to. Sometimes they're not worth looking at when he can look at the pretty way you blush as you touch his hand that's lingering on your shoulder.

"Thought you looked a bit cold there. Keep this on all night. Later on I'll help you warm up my way, a much more fun way. Don't even worry about your perfume getting all into this, love having your scent all over me. And by tomorrow you're gonna be wearing all of my marks."

There are a lot of people in the Enforcers who tease Marcus about having such a pretty wife. He knows you're pretty, but he doesn't like that the department is noticing it so much as well. Not that there's any way for him to hide it, or that he wants you to hide it, that would be a real crime.

"I was not pouting. That is so childish. I was glaring at them. Well, they were the ones who stared first. You visit me at work, like that's such a big deal. We're married, honey, I pick you up from work too. Why is it such a big deal here? I think they're just trying to get a rise out of me."

Won't deny that he's feeling jealous or shy away from showing it. When Marcus notices any of his men flirting with you he makes them work extra hard that day, he gives them more paperwork, something that everyone hates there, or assigns them to the toughest jobs that he knows will take them days to complete. He can't help but chuckle when you visit again and they're too tired to flirt with you, they just say hello.

"What do you mean I'm picking on them? Of course not. You know how hard it is to deal with all these extra cases. Someone has to take on a few more. No, the fact that it's the same Enforcers who gave you flowers that one time has nothing to do with it. You think it does? And do you have evidence of this accusation?"

Marcus isn't shy about kissing you in front of the whole department. If that's what it takes to send them all a clear message to back off. It's always perfectly chaste kisses, but he does make sure that everyone hears him say he loves you when you leave. He smirks when eyes turn to him and he wishes them all a good rest of their day.

"Now you call me petty. All of these accusations and you still don't have any evidence. That's not a very good way to have a case. You've been keeping count have you? Oh. You... actually have been keeping count? I'm guilty? Fine, you got me, you got me. Maybe... that was a little petty of me, but I'm not sorry."

Every time Loris is jealous it's almost impossible for him to hide that fact. He's a big guy, nothing about him is easy to his, not even his emotions. And he's loud, so every time he huffs, mumbles something, or grunts you hear it. Your eyes meet and he looks away, his hand grasping yours and running his thumb over the back of your hand.

'They were staring at you a bit too much for my liking, pretty girl. If they were as tough as they pretend they were they should have held their ground more. Proves they were all bark and no bite. People like that really get on my nerves, and then they talk to my girl like she's single."

Loris invites you to have lunch with him quite often, even more often when he gets jealous of someone who works with him. Dealing with them in any other way would be unprofessional of him, and might get him in trouble. This way he gets to avoid that, avoid them, and spend a nice lunch date with you. No matter how you look at it he's the real winner here.

"Looks so good. But if you keep looking at me like that I might get hungry for something else besides the food. Just try shifting the blame on me when you know exactly how you're looking at me right now. I wouldn't risk it at work, but... if you showed up with a few hickeys on your neck it might get the rest of the department to stop flirting with you."

As much as he tries to make his jealousy go away it's not easy. Loris knows he should be an example for others, after all he had been an Enforcer for a long time, he can't just let his emotions get the better of him. Hard to keep those emotions down when they concern you. If nothing else works he will intimidate people. Easy enough for him. But he would rather that be a last resort.

"If he wasn't ready to throw fists and words at me then he shouldn't have thrown flirty words at you. He should be able to back himself up if he's gonna be saying stuff like that. All I did was pick him up and throw him outside. Hey, I might get in a bit of trouble for it, but at least he'll leave you alone from now on. I'd risk my badge for you if I have to, you know that."

Since he is the quiet type Steb shows his emotions and jealousy is one that he works hard to surpress. Every time he notices that someone is standing a little too close to you he walks over and looks at you, lovingly, then he looks at the other person with a glare, a deadly one. All the while he's standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

"Come now, angelfish, they weren't even worth your time. We both know they only had one thing in mind when they were talking to you. I could see it in their eyes. I don't appreciate that they looked at you like that. And I know you don't either. So I felt like I had to step in."

He is very physical with his jealousy. Steb lets his eyes and touches linger a few moments longer when he wants to make a point to someone. While he knows you don't hate it he also doesn't want to come off as too jealous or too possessive over you. You can take care of yourself and he loves that about you, he's watched you put people in their place often, but there are times where he can't hold himself back.

"I could feel your fingers interlocking with mine. You wanted me to stand close to you when they weren't leaving you alone. Would you have raised your voice if I hadn't walked over? It would be amusing to see it. But I think those kisses we shared also sent an equally powerful message. You didn't have to bit me though."

Steb nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck when he's feeling really, really jealous of someone. He makes it look less possessive than it is, pretending like he's overhearing something you have to say, and then pushing himself just a little bit closer. His cold lips make contact with your neck, sending shivers down your body before he brushes your lips with his thumb and leaves with a smirk.

"That ought to be enough. I could have done more but marking you in public might have been a step too far. We can enjoy things like that in private however. I enjoy being close to you in any context, and if it makes others realize you're not looking for anyone because you've already got a man then I enjoy it even more."

[kisssukuna33]

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always have you over at his house the night before an important match. It helps with the stress he says.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always put on a TV show before you two settle into the couch for cuddles. Usually the cuddling session is a mix of him relaxing against you as you ask him questions about the match tomorrow.

"You packed an extra pair of shorts this time right? Remember what happened last time"

"yeah I did"

"Did you iron the clothes?"

"Uraume took care of it"

"That new protein shake your nutritionist recommend, Did you take it?"

"Already did"

"What about the snacks during the game tomorrow? did Uraume-

"oh my god baby relax, it's all taken care of"

He says in somewhat of an annoyed tone as he pulls you even closer to his chest, tightening his grip around you. But deep down he loves it when you are concerned about him like this.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who insists that having a good time before the match tomorrow isn't a problem to him but you reject the offer firmly because you know how Sukuna gets whenever you two started something.

It always ends up dragging for hours so no, your bf needs his beauty sleep for tomorrow.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who pouts slightly when you say no to him but decides to settle with the short make out session instead, better than nothing he thinks.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who teasingly steals few touches from your sensitive areas, clearly trying to rile you up but stops after seeing the glare you gave him.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who never seems to be the type to get much nervous before matches. Because of his Overconfidence? His never ending Ego? maybe. But his ability to stand strong in situations like this always makes your heart flutter.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always makes sure you get the best VIP seat to his match, You always need to be in the front lines where he can see you from clearly when he beat up his opponent back to his ancestors.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who always find a way to bring you up in the Media press. Sukuna is widely known by the audience for being a down bad "simp" for his girlfriend as well as a complete disaster for his opponents.

"Mr Ryomen, Do you know there's a whole talk in the internet about you being a simp for your girlfriend? What do you have to say to people who spread things like that?"

"Keep spreading the truth I guess. The internet definitely needs it more"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who hurries back to his changing room and jumps straight into your arms. Despite your constant nagging for him to get patched up first.

"Baby did you saw the jab-cross I threw before he hit the ground?"

"Yeah it was Amazing Ryo!"

"I did good than the last match, didn't I?"

"Yeah you always do"

"Then I deserve way more than that cheap kiss you gave me earlier don't I?"

"Get patched up first you freak, Uraume's waiting"

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who lets you both into his house as he holds your waist with one arm. He let go of your waist as he makes his way for the bathroom while murmuring something about showering first.

As he started to shower you turn on the tv with the intention of seeing the live match you saw today in the digital screen. And it immediately cuts to a interview Sukuna did just right after winning.

Boxerbf Sukuna! Who seems enthusiastic as ever talking to the reporters about the match he did and the opponent he beat. Not long after he adds a little appreciation from his part.

"My manager Uraume helped me with a lot of stuff so I truly appreciate them. Also my girlfriend stayed up beside me every night when I practiced and supported me in everything, this win is hers as much as it is mine."

"if you're watching this I love you baby"

A warm feeling start to take over your chest as you hear his words. The man who's appreciated and idolized by millions saying these things so casually to you, you still can't get your mind around it.

Then the reporter use his luck to ask a risky question one more time.

"it's look like you two have a great relationship together, what do you think about marriage Mr Ryomen?"

To that question Sukuna doesn't respond but instead returns a well knowing little grin as he waves off the interview.

"Tch why did they ruin the moment by asking that, now it looks like he doesn't want to marry me" you said to yourself.

Just as you were about to leave to the kitchen to grab a snack, something shining inside the closet that Sukuna forgot to shut earlier catches your eyes.

Hidden by the cloth piles it was a little jewelry box that had familiar initials on top of it.

It was none other than yours and Sukuna's.

Wait..

No that can't be, Yeah maybe this is the earrings he wanted to give you before.

But much to your surprise the box opened up to reveal a gorgeous wedding ring. A big diamond you sure costed atleast 5 six figures alone sitting on top of it. Inside the ring you and Sukuna's initials were carved into it making it seem even more special to your eyes.

Your heart is jumping from excitement and happiness, everything about your life is starting to get better and better and you can't help but thank Sukuna for it.

You don't want to ruin the surprise he planned for you of course. So you put the box back to it's place and sit on the bed till he's done showering patiently but the stupid smile you had since earlier didn't left your face for once.

"Alright I'm done showering let's slee- what's with you?"

"What's with me? nothing Ryo"

"You're are smiling very creepily woman"

"Ryo that's mean! My smile is not creepy!"

"Yeah whatever come here, freak"

Sukuna says as he drags you closer to his side of the bed while turning off the bedside lamp at the same time. Your bodies intertwine with each other like it was always meant to be. Sukuna's hands wrapping around you as he buries his face into your neck.

"Ryo?"

"hmm"

"I love you"

You can feel a small smile tugging at his lips.

"I love you too princess, more than anything"

Boxing Kuna is my favorite <33

No grammar checks though sorry :/

[harrysfolklore]

yes do the lewis fic pleaseee

short and sweet bc i promised anon i would do ittt i hope you like it

You're fidgeting with your rings - his rings, actually, that you stole months ago - when Lewis notices your knee bouncing for the hundredth time. The arena feels too warm despite your backless Valentino.

"You're going to drill a hole through the floor, love," he murmurs, leaning close enough that his lips brush your ear. His hand finds yours, warm and steady.

"Easy for you to be calm," you whisper back. "You've won eight world championships."

"Seven," he corrects automatically, making you roll your eyes.

"The eighth was robbed and we all know it." It's an old argument, one that makes him smile every time. "Besides, this is different. This is-"

"This is you about to win Song of the Year," he finishes, so confident it makes your heart ache.

You turn to face him properly, taking in how unfairly good he looks in his suit. "How are you so sure?"

"Because," he says, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "I was there when you wrote it at 3 AM on my kitchen floor. When you called me crying because the bridge wasn't right."

"You're biased," you argue, but you're smiling now. "You have to say that. It's in the boyfriend contract."

"Ah yes, the famous 'support your controversially young girlfriend' clause," he teases, and you can't help but laugh. It's become a running joke between you, how the media can't seem to get over your age gap.

"Speaking of which, did you see that headline yesterday? 'Grammy Nominee Spotted Looking Cozy with Elder Statesman of F1'?"

Lewis groans. "Elder statesman? I'm forty, not dead."

"Ancient," you declare solemnly. "Practically fossilized."

He's about to retort when Taylor Swift takes the stage, and suddenly you can't breathe again. Lewis must feel you tense because his hand tightens around yours.

"Hey," he says softly. "Whatever happens, you've already won. Seven nominations in your first year? That's unheard of."

"I just want-" you start, but then Taylor's speaking.

"Music tells our stories," she's saying. "And sometimes, a song comes along that captures something so real, so raw, that it changes how we see love itself..."

You feel Lewis shift beside you, and when you glance over, he's already watching you with that look - the one he gave you the first time you played him this song, the one that makes you feel invincible.

"And the Grammy goes to..." Taylor's smiling now, like she knows something. "'Birds of a feather!"

The world stops. Starts. Explodes.

Lewis is up first, pulling you into his arms before you can even process what's happening. "That's my girl," he whispers fiercely against your hair. "I told you, didn't I? I told you."

You're crying already, you can feel it, but you don't care. His hands cup your face and he's beaming at you with more pride than you've ever seen - more than after any pole position or race win.

"Go get your Grammy, superstar," he says, and then he's gently pushing you toward the aisle.

The walk to the stage feels infinite. You're aware of everything - the weight of your dress, the cameras following you, the deafening applause. But mostly, you're aware of Lewis in the front row, standing and clapping like he's watching the love of his life win Song of the Year at the Grammys (which, you suppose, he is).

"Oh god," you start, gripping the golden gramophone like a lifeline. "I wrote this song about falling in love. About meeting someone who changes everything when you least expect it."

You find his eyes in the crowd, and suddenly it's just the two of you.

"I should probably thank Formula 1 for canceling that race in Singapore, or I never would've been in that hotel bar, jetlagged and grumpy, when this absolutely ridiculous man in the most expensive hoodie I'd ever seen asked if he could buy me a drink."

The audience laughs, and Lewis is shaking his head, grinning that grin that still makes your knees weak.

"To Lewis - thank you for being the most unexpected plot twist of my life. For showing me that timing is everything, even when Twitter thinks our timing is inappropriate." More laughter. "For listening to every demo at 3 AM, for believing in me when I was just another girl with a piano and a dream..."

You're fully crying now, but so is he, so it's okay.

"For never once making me feel too young or too inexperienced, for teaching me that love doesn't follow anyone's timeline but its own. And yes, I know this speech is probably going viral for all the wrong reasons, but you taught me that sometimes the best stories are the ones nobody sees coming. I love you."

The camera cuts to Lewis, who's not even trying to hide his tears. But neither of you seem to care at the moment.

Later, after winning four out of your seven nominations, you're in the back of the car heading home. Your head's on his shoulder, Grammy in your lap, when he speaks.

"You know what this means, right?"

"Hmm?"

"Now I have to win the championship this year. Can't have you showing me up with all these trophies."

You laugh, snuggling closer. "Better get practicing then, old man."

"Menace," he mutters fondly, pressing a kiss to your hair.

[tseecka]

I peel oranges neatly. The sections come apart cleanly, perfectly in my hands.

***

One day, Ximena buys Jayce a crate of oranges.

She hands it to him one Sunday morning; he still visits every Sunday, makes time early in the morning before the sun has even risen to find his way to the meagre Talis estate and let himself through the front gate and into her warm kitchen, where spiced chocolate is always steaming and waiting for him. She asks him about his work; she asks him about the Council, and about Hextech, and about the forge, and about Viktor and Heimerdinger and the Academy.

He asks her about her garden, and helps her remove and clean and oil the joints of her digital prostheses.

She tuts over a new burn or scrape on his hands--which have never been cared for properly, the skin red and inflamed around the site, a mild infection setting in. She finds the antiseptic and the gauze, withdrawn from the first aid kid mounted next to the kitchen sink, and does her best to clean it, and he indulges her. She is, after all, his mother. He hasn't needed her in a long time, but this is something he can do for her, let her mother him, and it's nice to sit in his childhood home with her fussing over his hand while the mug of chocolate warms his palm, a pleasant soothe against the sharp sting of disinfectant.

This is their weekly morning ritual; it does not typically involve oranges.

(Remaining fic under the cut, or you can read it on Archive of Our Own!)

"I know for a fact," she tells him mildly, digging out a sharp splinter of metal that got lodged at the base of his thumb two nights ago, "that you and that Viktor of yours don't eat nearly enough."

"Ma..." Jayce sighs, shaking his head. His tone is long-suffering, teasingly weary; but he can't say anything more than that, because she is unfortunately, right. There is an icebox in their lab, just a small one, installed in the corner next to the futon he liberated from his old bedroom. It's not wise to argue with Ximena Talis.

She clicks her tongue at him, and the sliver comes out, captured neatly between the precision points of her prostheses--more effective than tweezers. He winces, flexes his hand, and a drop of blood beads on his skin. He'd honestly figured it would work itself out, but she'd spotted it immediately.

"You're so busy, Jayce, I understand this; but you must eat, if only to give that brain of yours the nourishment it needs, hm? Coffee is not enough."

"Okay--but oranges?"

She tears open a small foil packet, withdrawing an antiseptic wipe from inside--a folded piece of damp towel, soaked with solution. She swipes it over the pinprick wound, wiping away the blood. "Your father always kept a crate in the forge," she says, her voice soft and fond. "He was like you--or you are like him. Always working, always moving, never a moment to stop and care for himself. But he liked oranges. The juice for his thirst, the pulp for his stomach, and the sugar for his energy. Convenient; clean." The towelette is set aside. She plucks a small square bandage out of the first aid kit, fitting the adhesive to the skin around the wound. The pale fabric stands out against his darker skin. "I used to come and sit in the forge with him while he worked and peel oranges for him." She laughs, "Useless man. For how fine his smithing was, he never could manage to peel them without smashing them to pulp."

Jaye laughs with her. He doesn't remember his father very well, but the recollection of a toddler brings to mind an enormous bear of a man, with strong, large hands. Maybe larger than they would have been in reality, memory unable to adjust to the passing of time, still remembering a palm and fingers broad enough to encompass the top of his head. It's easy to imagine hands as massive as that trying, and failing, in the delicate operation of removing a peel without damanging the fruit inside.

"Anyways," Ximena continues, folding both her hands over Jayce's one and smiling at him. Crow's feet wrinkle at the corners of her eyes; deep lines form from her nose to the corners of her mouth, etched by the years. "They were on sale. Take them with you and keep them in your lab. Then I will worry less, hm?"

"All right," Jayce agrees, laying his other hand on top of hers and squeezing gently. She is his mother; far be it from him to reject this expression of her love. At worst, they will turn green and fuzzy and end up in next week's trash. At best--a juicy segment of orange now and again does sound nice, against the dry acrid metallic taste of the lab's stagnant air. The bid for time doesn't go unnoticed, though, and he lingers a little longer with his mother today, seeing the gift as emblematic of her maternal worry, and doing what he can to assuage it.

She seems less sad when he leaves, the crate of oranges cradled in his arms. It is early enough still that he thinks he will reach the lab before Viktor does (unless his partner has stayed working through the night; he does that, sometimes, but if that's the case, Jayce was never going to beat him there). The aroma of citrus oil wafts into his nose the entire way to the Academy.

***

Of course they don't have fresh citrus in the Undercity.

It's not like Viktor doesn't know what they are, when he arrives at the lab later that morning (Jayce is pleased at the hour; it means Viktor likely got some real sleep the night before, and even if it was just because he was too exhausted from too many sleepness nights to fight it back any longer--a win is a win). His eyes land on the crate as he hooks his stool with his cane, pulling it over to him; he pauses, as it caught off guard.

"What...are those?"

"...Oranges?"

VIktor sighs impatiently, waving a hand at Jayce as though he's swatting at an insect nuisance. "Yes, I know what oranges are, Jayce. Why are they here?"

"Oh! My mother--a gift. She thought having some fresh fruit in the lab might encourage us to eat better."

Viktor's face shifts into a thoughtful moue, lips pulling down and eyebrows lifting as he considers, shrugs. He settles into his stool and sets the cane aside, leaning against the worktop. Jayce resists needling, asking if Viktor has had breakfast. He'll go for the oranges on his own time. It's irrational to think Ximena would somehow know, or sense, if her gift of care had been rejected. The two men settle into their work--Viktor pulling over an opened notebook and setting his pencil to the page, presumably picking up where he left off in navigating the complex mathematical proofs that have been occupying his mind, Jayce sliding his goggles down over his eyes as he turns his attention to soldering together a number of small components that, he hopes, will one day be capable of housing and conducting energy from a Hexstone. They work in a comfortable silence.

It's a couple of hours later, that Jayce--intent on his work, goggles magnifying the connections in the metal in front of him and by extension blocking out everything else in his surroundings--hears a pained hiss, followed by Viktor's huff of frustration. His back complains as he straightens--how did he end up slouched so far over--and he turns to look at Viktor. The magnification restricts his range of vision, and so it is that he sees--in extensive detail--Viktor's fingers digging like claws into the pitted skin of an orange. His index is buried in the fruit to the first knuckle; there is juice spattering the back of his hand. Hurriedly, he pushes the goggles up off of his eyes, and its in time to see the irritated embarrassment before Viktor wips it from his expression.

"...Doing okay there, Viktor?"

"No, Jayce," comes the exasperated reply. "I have citric acid in my nail bed, and this--impossible fruit refuses to come apart for me. And now my notes are covered in orange juice!"

Wordlessly, Jayce holds out a hand for the orange. Viktor drops it into his palm with another irritated eye roll, withdrawing his finger with a wet popping sound. His face twists in disgust, and he shoves his stool away from the workbench, grabbing up his cane so he can cross to where they keep the cleaning rags. Jayce listens to the retreating tapping of his cane as he considers the orange in his hands.

There are pale grooves in the skin, the pitted surface not quite scraped clean of zest, where Viktor clearly had tried to peel it; scratching at the tough exterior with blunted, chewed-off nails, obviously to no avail. He rotates it in his hands, unable to keep the bemused expression from his face as he notes the evidence of all of Viktor's attempts, culminating, finally, in a singular frustrated stab through the peel and into the flesh beneath.

"Viktor," he calls out, as he fits his own index finger into the wound and pulls, gently, teasing the pith away from the segments as the peel comes away, "what did the orange do to you?"

He hears the tapping of the cane as Viktor comes back to the workbench. He pauses next to Jayce's shoulder, watching as Jayce strips the flesh of its rind in large chunks, tugging away reluctant bits of the pith that refuse to come away cleanly. "Nothing," comes the reply. Jayce glances up at his face, then away; there's a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks, as Jayce peels the fruit with ease. "I just--didn't know the trick of it."

Which is how Jayce learns that, indeed, there are no oranges in the Undercity. And Viktor, for all that he lives in Piltover and has advantages he never could have enjoyed at home, is still staunchly loyal to the Undercity; he tends not to indulge in luxuries that are denied his compatriots. So he never had them at home; and never bothered to seek them out up here.

It's not the first time Jayce has unexpectedly run up against Viktor's rigid internal moral code, manifesting in unexpected ways in how he lives his life as a transplant from disadvantage to relative privilege. Privately, he adds this to his own list of grievances, which grows every time he learns some new angle as to how badly Piltover keeps the Undercity ground below its genteel boot.

He finishes peeling the orange for Viktor, setting the fruit on the pile of discarded rind, and shows him how to tease apart the segments so that they separate cleanly in his hands. Points out where the seeds can sometimes live, so that Viktor won't crack his teeth biting down on one. Viktor nods to him, offering a crooked little half smile, and turns back to his work, wiping away the splatters of orange juice on his notebook pages before turning over to a fresh one. Jayce waits, and watches for a moment, but Viktor seems uninterested in pursuing the fruit any further. Still--it's a good reminder to himself, as well, so he reaches out to snag his own orange from the box, rolling it along the countertop to loosen the peel before quickly stripping it down.

The taste bursts sweet across his tongue. Of course Piltover won't export oranges to the Undercity. They can't have Zaunites developing a taste for sunlight.

***

Viktor's hands are deft and skilled. Jayce knows this; has seen the evidence of his work, his elegant script in their shared notebooks, the fine detail work on the pieces and components of their creations. He has a light touch, deliberate and confident, and more than once Jayce has gotten distracted watching Viktor work. He compares Viktor's hands to his own, often; he knows his broad palms and thick fingers speak of strength, but Viktor's are no more delicate than his own, for all that they are lighter and more nimble. The both bear collections of small wounds; Viktor's nailbeds are often torn and shredded, red and inflamed at the corners where he nibbles off his hangnails and teases at flaps of loose cuticle.

And maybe that's the reason why--the remembered sting of citrus in an open wound making him shy of it--but despite his very adept hands, Viktor seems absolutely useless at peeling oranges. His nails, chewed bluntly down to the quick, can't pierce the skin; no matter how Jayce tries to help, showing him tricks of rolling the orange across a surface or digging in to the navel where it once hung from the branch, Viktor inevitably tears holes into the delicate flesh, juice squirting out in all directions as he craters into the skin. He tries, once, to bite through it with his teeth; Jayce can't help but laugh at the disgusted expression his face shifts into when the bitter oil lands on his tongue and gums.

He doesn't think Ximena would quite approve of the way in which they devour the crate of oranges between them, especially as it makes the need for trips out of the lab to the cafeteria or to the food carts on the streets outside less and less necessary; their diet dwindles down to primarily oranges, for 8 to 12 hours out of the day, when they remember to eat at all, both of them appreicative of the chance to fulfill their bodies' needs without having to get up from their work stations at all. But they're healthy, and its better than not eating anything at all, Jayce thinks--which has often been the case for Viktor, at least, unwilling to abandon his train of thought for even an hour to satisfy his body's demand for nourishment. And for all that trying to peel them frustrates the hell out of his partner, Viktor seems to have developed a taste for them.

Eventually, Viktor stops even trying. He'll reach for an orange and roll it about mindlessly on the table top for a few minutes as he thinks, or ponders a particularly challenging runic equation. He'll roll one of them back and forth between his palms as he stands at the chalkboard, eyes raking over their scrawled notes and diagrams. And sometimes, he simply grabs an orange out of their dwindling supply, and plops it next to Jayce's elbow without a word. In all cases, the wordless request is there; and every time, Jayce takes up the orange, peels it, and sets it back on Viktor's side of the table. Often--not always, but often enough--he'll get a quick smile from Viktor, a duck of his head in thanks, before he goes back to whatever he was working on or talking about.

Sometimes, he pushes the orange back to Jayce's side, and Jayce realizes that he has not in fact eaten yet that day.

Sometimes, when they get stuck, Viktor pushes his rolling stool a few more feet away. They bandy ideas back and forth, hypotheses and refutations, as they toss an orange to and fro across the lab; a break from the monotony, the bright scent of citrus oil sinking into their palms, waking up their tired minds, until one or the other has a sudden brainwave and they can get back to work.

Sometimes, in the time it takes for Jayce to peel the fruit, Viktor's mind has already moved on to something else; and the orange sits, bare and shining, skin slowly drying out in the staticky, dehumidified air of the lab. Jayce takes a certain kind of glee in pulling off a segment when this happens and waiting for an opportune moment--usually while Viktor is expounding on his latest theory, or ripping into one of Jayce's--to pop the orange into his mouth, interrupting him for a brief moment. Viktor's expression is always a delight--first the irate response to having food shoved in his mouth, but then, usually, a look of resigned bliss as he bites down, filling his mouth with a burst of flavour and brightness, and inevitably holding out his hand for the rest of his orange as he continues.

***

When Jayce visits his mother the next week, she doesn't seem surprised when he tells her, a bit sheepishly, that they've already worked through most of the crate. He tells her about peeling oranges for Viktor; he relays the series of misfortunes that Viktor has encountered, watching a soft smile spread, unconsciously, over her features. It makes him feel warm; he stumbles over the rest of his words, finishing the story lamely, but she doesn't say anything about it. Her hand rests over her heart, over the locket she wears around her neck. He doesn't know what her expression is saying.

She walks with him to work that day, forcing a detour to the produce market, where she insists on buying another crate and placing it in his arms. "You boys need to eat," she says, "and a mother worries. Oranges are better than a diet of coffee."

Its not until he kisses her cheek at the entrance to the Academy grounds and bids her a good day, tells her he loves her, that he realizes how similar his orange-story must sound to her own memories, peeling oranges for his father in the forge.

***

"More oranges, Jayce--!" is Viktor's exclamation when Jayce arrives, grimacing a little as he walks into the lab. The market detour made him later than usual. He thinks if he had gotten here first, Viktor probably wouldn't have even noticed the supply replenish, but it's hard to obscure an entire crate of fruit in ones arms.

"It's my mother," he explains, sheepish. "She is convinced we don't eat enough, and now that she knows we've been going through the oranges at a breakneck pace..." He shrugs, and sets the crate on the countertop. He tips the last few oranges from the week before on top, and tosses the empty rigid-paper crate in the direction of the door.

Viktor squints at him. "You are just enjoying my torment. You enjoy mocking me. 'Ah, poor Viktor, he is so incompetent he cannot even peel a fruit.'" The way his tongue rolls on fruit sounds like music to Jayce's ears; he can't help but laugh a little at it, which just causes Viktor's playful scowl to deepen further. "'I must continue to ply him with citrus, to keep him humble, in the hopes that he forgets that I am incompetent in everything but the peeling of oranges."

Jayce has already pulled out two oranges to approximate a breakfast for them both. He peels one in a long, continuous spiral while Viktor continues on his "tirade", plopping it down in one open palm as the gesticulations--a habit of Viktor's whenever he sets out to mock Jayce, exagerrating his admittedly expansive hand movements--come to a pause. Viktor looks down at the orange, then back up at Jayce, who grins, shrugs, and pops an orange segment into his own mouth. "You done?" he asks. "Because I can take that back, if you don't want it." Viktor's fingers curl around the globe, settling into the slight divots between the segments, cleaned of pith as best as Jayce can manage. "Mmm. That's what I thought." He turns away from Viktor, and pulls over a tray holding a pile of metal discs and a handheld grinder.

"Ridiculous man," he hears Viktor mutter; then again, the consonants shaped this time around a mouthful of orange, "absolutely ridiculous." It sounds affectionate, and pleased, and warm; like the sunshine in the orange is beaming out from Viktor's lips, washing over Jayce like a warm summer morning. Jayce shoves the remaining quarter of his own orange into his mouth, cheek bulging out as he chews, and begins notching gears.

***

It's not as though they only eat oranges. Jayce is well aware of his body's needs, to maintain his physical ability in the forge, to retain his muscle definition and physique; he takes pride in his body, he won't be ashamed of it. And, too, he is hyper aware of the needs ot Viktor's body; as it rebels against him, as it deteriorates, the need to eat a balanced diet and intake all of the essential macronutrients for survival becomes ever more present. Viktor doesn't thank him for the fuss, but Jayce keeps a careful tally of everything Viktor eats, to his knowledge, and tries to force himself out of his hyperfocused headspace when it's necessary to ensure they are both getting what their bodies need.

They still take short walks--shorter, now, than they used to be, and Jayce knows that Viktor knows even if he doesn't comment on it--to some of their favourite places, when the need to consume something that is not either coffee or an orange becomes strong enough to pull them away from the lab. When they have a breakthrough, they celebrate at a restaurant, rewarding themselves with a socially acceptable dinner (instead of digging into the work with even more fervour than before).

But every week, Ximena buys a new crate of oranges, and Jayce brings it in to the lab. The space constantly smells of citrus, now--it's a clean, bright, fresh scent, combating the metals and oils and the ozone-copper tang of magic that suffuses their working space. Jayce feels more awake when he walks in each morning, the sharpness hitting his olfactory senses and sending a signal to his brain that makes him alert and attentive. He thinks it is having an impact on Viktor, too--his mood noticeably lightens, his sharp edges of frustration growing a little fuzzier, a little softer, whenever Jayce hands him a freshly peeled orange to combat an ornery mood. He starts collecting the peels, tipping handfuls of them into the jar of vinegar they keep for cleaning their work surfaces. The orange oil infuses into the sharp, acrid vinegar, balancing out the harsh scents with something bright and warm.

And Jayce's hands--they smell like oranges all the time, the scent of it lingering in the bits of zest caught under his nails, the oils worked into his skin. He is surrounded by it; he closes his eyes and feels sun-warmed, comfortable, memories of walking through orange groves flitting through his mind's eye. It's comforting in a way that feels strange until he makes the connection--his mother, peeling oranges for his father in the forge, then coming to gather him up from his minder with orange oil on her own skin. It awakens something in his subconscious, a feeling of home and safety and family, and he realizes--

It's a scent he's started to associate with Viktor, too.

Which doesn't quite make sense--after all, Viktor doesn't peel the oranges, isn't getting his hands and fingernails sticky with orange juice, doesn't have to pry clumps of rind from under his nails when he goes home every day. It makes Jayce a little sad, to realize that this smell he associates so strongly now with Viktor and with their lab might solely be from his perspective. That maybe Viktor doesn't smell of oranges at all. That they haven't left their mark on him the same way as they leave their mark on Jayce.

How many oranges, he wonders, does a person need to eat per day before the essence starts to bleed through their skin; before their cells are infused, like the vinegar in the jar, before that brightness is lent out to their fingertips and palms? If he breathed Viktor in, would he smell of sun-bright citrus, warm and energizing, waking up Jayce's senses?

If he kissed him, would he taste oranges on his breath?

The grinder slips, scoring a rough scrape along his finger, and he bites back a yelp as he is brought forcibly back down to earth from wherever his thoughts have been wandering. Viktor's head shoots up from where he has been working on screwing together the framework for a calibrator, eyes wide and alarmed. Their gazes meet, and Jayce feels a flush creep over his cheeks.

Where did that thought come from?

***

Ximena tuts over the scrape, spanning along the side of his finger nearly from the mound of his knuckle all the way to the tip. The antiseptic solution stings, entering his skin and contacting his nerves through what must be hundreds of tiny nicks, each grain of the rough sandpaper abrading away a tiny piece of his skin.

There is another crate of oranges sitting on the counter, waiting for him to take it to the lab with him when he leaves.

He wants to ask her a question; but he doesn't know how to put it into words. About peeling oranges. About infusion. About how long something can sit in solution with something else before they become inseparable, orange oil in vinegar. It's a silly urge; he is the scientist, after all, these are things he should know, but its less about the combination of molecules than it is about something...more. Something he has no experience with, but which he knows she does; knows it in the way he thinks back to that conversation about peeling oranges, the expression on her face when she spoke about care, her hand resting over the locket, over her heart, the way his foggy memories of both his parents sharpen whenever he first splits an orange peel with his thumbnail and feels that fine mist spray into the air.

He doesn't ask her anything about that, doesn't say anything at all as she tends to his hand, wraps it up with thing gauze to prevent infection. "You're quiet today, caro," she remarks when she's done. He offers her an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Thinking through a hypothesis. I'm fairly certain I know the answer, but...I'm having trouble testing it."

She tidies away the first aid supplies, taking them back to their place. Jayce cradles his hand, still stinging, against his chest. When she returns to the kitchen table, she's carrying a small plate with half a dozen golden-brown muffins. Their tops are dotted with gleaming jewels of candied peel, and large crystals of sugar, and curls of pale yellow zest.

"Maybe you're not asking the right question, then," she suggests. "Or maybe your heads addled from too many oranges, and not enough of anything else. Are you actually managing to eat a balanced diet? Or did I condemn my son to a lifetime of nutritional deficiency?"

Jayce has to laugh, as he takes a muffin at her urging. "Well, at least you know I won't die of scurvy," he jokes back as he tears off a bite. Her comment sends him back, to long hours bent over schoolwork; the frustration of trying to sort through scientific procedure, of having to rein in his instinct and enthusiasm for something testable and repeatable, experimental design.

The muffin is sweet and warm, a little bitter from the copious amount of zest inside. He groans his appreciation, and she answers it with a beatific smile. "These are so damn good, Ma," he tells her. She swats his arm for swearing. "Can I take one with me? For Viktor?"

She looks at him, and he swallows as the weight of her regard falls on him. There's something significant in her even gaze, as it flicks down to the muffins, then back up at him. He knows, before she tells him--

Viktor made them.

***

Jayce does take a muffin for the road--for himself, seeing as Viktor likely has as many as he would want after having baked the batch. He tucks it into a corner of the box of oranges as he walks, his mind racing. It's not--it doesn't need to mean anything. Anyone can slice an orange in half with a knife, cut through the barrier to get at the flesh inside, juice it and squeeze it into a batter. It's just--the peel. Diced, and finely, but not enough to hide the pieces with a rough and ragged edge, distinct from the knife work on the other four sides. The way some of the little chunks, enrobed in sugary syrup, still have tiny shreds of pith clinging to them, encased like a bug in amber. That's not--if you cut an orange apart to get at the pieces you needed, or if you bought those pieces already prepared, those things wouldn't be--

And of course, it's not like Viktor is incompetent. One doesn't need a pristinely peeled orange for use in baking, it's not like it matters, he could massacre a pile of oranges and still get what he needs for the recipe, but--

If I kissed him, would Viktor taste of oranges?

"Maybe you're not asking the right question."

Do I...want to kiss Viktor?

***

Jayce feels himself moving slowly, when he pushes open the door to the lab. There is a reluctance to it; not fear, but hesitance. For a man normally so bold with discovery, it doesn't quite feel like him, but for all their talk of changing the world--this hypothesis feels like it could shake every foundation of everything Jayce has known, up to this point, more than any he has had before.

He sets down the box of oranges; there are none left to replace on top, and he's fairly certain there were some still in the box last night, which means the fruit in the muffins came from their supply. Viktor took them home; he didn't buy the ingredients pre-prepared. He takes out the muffin, and sets it, carefully, at Viktor's work station; in the space where he normally deposits his coffee mug. It's maybe a bit overdramatic; the morning sun slants in through the window and falls directly on it, setting the candied peel to glistening.

He takes a few moments to bustle about the lab, pouring clearning vinegar onto a rag and wiping down the stainless steel surfaces until they are gleaming, until the only thing he can smell is oranges. His pulse is pounding in his ears.

"Maybe you're not asking the right question."

Does Viktor...want to kiss me?

An hour passes; two. Jayce can't sit still; he grabs Viktor's notebook, and flips through the pages, reviewing the work from the last week, jotting down some observations in the margins and copying some thoughts down into his own collection of notes. He grabs a second book, comparing work from two months ago to the work they are refining now; finds an inconsistency, corrects it, copies it into both books so that they are each correct. He balances them in one hand and copies a few figures onto the chalkboard, the chalk screeching against the slate, his lines shaky.

Finally, he hears the door open ehind him, the tapping of Viktor's cane as it hits the ground with every step. He hears the unusual pause as Viktor comes intot he room, enough to see the muffin sitting in its beam of light--or where it used to be; the sun has moved, and the shaft from the window is creeping now along the very edge of the workbench and up the wall, putting the pastry back into shadow. Still, he knows he sees it. He thinks he can hear Viktor's brain calculating from here. The other man says nothing. The tapping of the cane resumes, and when he hears the creak of the stool settling under Viktor's weight, he turns on his heel, plastering a nonchalant, sunny smile onto his face.

"Good morning," he offers, and aims for casual as he closes Viktor's notebook, tossing it gently towards the the end of the workbench so that Viktor can re-shelve it in the stack of books and notes and loose papers accoring to whatever strange filing system he's adopted. "Everything okay? You were a little late getting in."

"I am fine, Jayce," Viktor says. He doesn't sound quite fine; his voice sounds a little strained. Kind of like his own. Viktor clears his throat. "Just had a rough start to the morning. Pain acting up; I opted to move a bit more slowly, and allowed myself some time to soak in epsom salts before I made my way here."

Jayce makes a sympathetic noise, settling into his own chair, tossing his own notebook down onto the work surface. "I'm sorry to hear that," he says, and he means it. "You've been having a good couple of weeks; sorry that the pain's back."

"Eh. It is what it is. I will deal with it as I always do," is Viktor's reply.

"Is there anything I can do?"

The question is met with silence. Jayce tries to keep his hands busy, as though the question isn't loaded with weight and meaning, as though he hasn't placed an accusatory muffin right in pride of place on Viktor's work station, like he doesn't have a hypothesis buzzing in his head based on nothing more than instinct and disconnected observations. But his eyes flit to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of Viktor--his posture, his body language, his expression. HIs partner is extremely still, for a moment, then a moment omre.

Then he moves. Jayce watches as he reaches out, past the muffin, and snags an orange from the box. "I'm a little hungry," Viktor murmurs quietly. Jayce turns a bit more, swiveling in his seat to face him more directly. Viktor isn't looking at him; his eyes are watching the orange as he rolls it back and forth on the countertop, smooth, measured motions, flicking from it to the muffin and back again. The motion stops, the orange pinned between his fingertips--deft, nimble, strong--and the desktop. There's an orange tinge under his fingernails.

Then, decisively, Viktor flicks his fingers, sending the orange rolling to nudge up against Jayce's elbow. Viktor's eyes lift to his face, and there's a sweet, tentative half-smile there. Jayce isn't sure he's ever seen an expression like it, not on Viktor, at least. He can see the small gap in his teeth, the crooked line of his lower jaw. He's close; closer than Jayce realized. When he speaks, Jayce swears he smells oranges.

"Would you mind peeling an orange for me?"

***

When Emily peels an orange, she tears holes in it. Juice squirts in all directions.

"Kate," she says, "I don't know how you do it!"

Emily is my best friend. I hope she never learns how to peel oranges.

- Oranges, Jean Little

Peeling oranges 🍊🧡

[rabbitinashell]

Diluc.

DO I HAVE TO SAY MORE??

I can't even begin to explain od how much I love this man bro.. and some other dudes, but shhh.... don't tell them

This time, the artis has been found: they go by the handle of eriimyon, but idk in which platform.

Diluc in the Sheets: Passionate, Intense, and Overprotective

Diluc is a man of fire - both in battle and in bed. He carries himself with discipline and restraint, but once he lets go, expect a heated, overwhelming experience that leaves you breathless.

He's not just about pleasure - he's about claiming, protecting, and making sure you know you belong to him.

1. Gentle, But Possessive

• Diluc starts slow, careful, and respectful - but don't mistake that for weakness.

• Once he's fully consumed by desire, he becomes intensely possessive, gripping you as if he's afraid you'll disappear.

• "You're mine. Say it."

2. Built-Up Frustration, Released in the Best Way

• He spends so much time bottling up emotions - when he finally lets go, he lets go completely.

• His passion is overwhelming, raw, and all-consuming, like a wildfire that can't be tamed.

• Expect deep, searing kisses that leave you breathless and aching for more.

3. Strength & Stamina for Days

• He's physically strong, easily lifting, pinning, and holding you in place like you weigh nothing.

• His stamina is insane - he's used to long, exhausting battles, and he won't stop until he knows you're completely satisfied.

• "I won't stop until I hear you beg for me."

4. Fiery Passion, But Hidden Softness

• Beneath all the intensity and control, there's a deep well of emotion he doesn't show to anyone else.

• He might kiss your forehead afterward, running his fingers through your hair, whispering things he'd never say in the light of day.

• "I'Il always protect you. Always."

5. The Perfect Balance of Rough & Tender

• He can be rough and demanding, but he's also capable of incredible gentleness when he senses you need it.

• Expect firm grips, deep bites, and possessive whispers, balanced with reverent touches and rare, quiet moments of vulnerability.

Bonus: Kinks & Preferences

• Possessiveness & Marking - He leaves evidence - bruises, bites, deep kisses - so you remember who vou belong to.

• Overstimulation - He won't stop until he's sure you've felt every ounce of his devotion.

• Dominance & Restraint - He holds so much back in daily life - that when he lets go, it's overwhelming.

• Praise & Devotion - He adores making you feel wanted, desired, and protected.

• Desperation & Release - He keeps his feelings buried so deep, and when they finally explode, it's like a firestorm.

6. Aftercare: Hidden Softness

• Diluc might struggle with words, but he makes up for it in actions.

• He pulls you close, ensures you're warm, and runs his fingers through your hair - even if he won't say much.

Final Verdict: A Lover Who Burns for You

Diluc is passionate, protective, and utterly consuming - a man who pours everything into the one he loves. He may try to hide his emotions in daily life, but in bed? There's no mistaking just how much he needs you.

[colorlessjay]

hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?

BUCKLE THE FUCK UP

OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL

Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact

Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!

First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)

Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid

Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)

Return To The Past by faeryn

NOW FOR MY COLLECTION

Just any fic written by everandanon

I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic

Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian

Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)

I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend

Slide Away by Castielslostwings

It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf

Sleep Without You by turningthepages

Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)

Pinfall by crowleyo

I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON

Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation

This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79

This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up

Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne

I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it

Lock and Key by tricia_16

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good

Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits

It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD

--------------

Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes

But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh

If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives

I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun

[leonastarry]

{ 12 } Written in the stars, erased by duty. ✧. ┊    prince/king!jinwoo x fem!commoner!reader! warning: death + remains mention, angst song recommendation: rewrite the stars - the greatest showman.

Golden chandeliers bathed the ballroom in warm light, casting a dreamy glow over the nobles twirling in a carefully choreographed waltz. The air was thick with perfume, silk, and whispered ambitions.

At the center of it all was Prince Sung Jinwoo, heir to the Ahjin Empire.

And across the room, hidden in the crowd, was you—a performer, a commoner, someone who should never have caught his eye.

But when his eyes met yours, the world seemed to shrink.

He moved without thinking, separating himself from the nobles as if they didn’t exist. He held his hand out to you, palm open, inviting.

“Dance with me,” he said.

You held your breath.

You knew better. You knew what this meant. The entire court was watching, their gasps sharp as knives. A prince shouldn’t touch a performer, let alone ask them to dance.

But when Jinwoo asked, who were you to refuse?

Your fingers tentatively brushed against his, and as he pulled you into the light, the music surged, enveloping you both like fate itself.

The dance was slow, deliberate. His hands rested on your waist, his warmth seeping through the layers of fabric between you. Every step was a promise, every turn a secret whispered in the silence between heartbeats.

But in a room full of royalty, love was not just a crime, it was a death sentence.

“This can’t happen any longer,” you whispered, your eyes fixed on his.

“I'll rewrite the stars for you,” he whispered back.

And so, you danced. Not as a prince and a commoner, but as two lost souls in a fleeting dream.

Until the music stopped.

Until reality crashed down.

Until the Grand Duke stepped forward, his face like a storm smoldering with quiet rage.

“This mockery will end now,” he declared.

The soldiers stepped between the two of you. The warmth of Jinwoo’s touch was stripped away as rough hands gripped your arms.

“Don’t you dare touch her!” Jinwoo’s voice echoed throughout the ballroom, sharp as a blade.

But his title meant nothing at this moment. He was still a prince bound by duty.

And what about you? You were just a girl who had no right to hold the heart of a king.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

For days, you were locked in the dungeon. No trial, no sentence—just silence.

And then, one night, the door creaked open.

Jinwoo.

He was dressed in black, his royal robes fluttering like shadows behind him. His eyes, once filled with warmth, were now empty with despair.

“I’ll get you out of here,” he said.

He bribed the guards, silenced the nobles, and risked everything to save you.

But you knew better.

If you ran, he would lose everything. His throne. His people. His honor.

You shook your head, a sad smile playing on your lips. “You don’t belong to me, Jinwoo.”

“I don’t care—”

“You should.”

“You were born for a kingdom,” you whispered. “And I was born for darkness.”

Tears streamed down his face, silently, unceasingly.

“Then let me sink into the darkness with you.”

His voice was tight, uncontrolled.

But you couldn’t let him. You wouldn’t be the reason he lost himself.

So you had to lie.

“I don’t love you, Jinwoo. I hate you for putting me through this.”

His breath hitched. He stepped back as if you’d just hit him.

And though your heart broke with every word, you tried to continue.

“This was never real. It was just a game. A dream.”

He stepped back, disbelief and pain clear in his eyes.

“…You’re lying,” he choked out.

And before he could speak, before he could see the tears burning in your eyes—

You turned away.

"Go away, I don't want to see you anymore."

Because it was the only way to save him.

And in the darkness of the cell, as you listened to his fading footsteps—

You whispered the words you couldn't say to him.

I Love You.

But love is never enough.

You can't fight fate.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Jinwoo ascended to the throne.

The people worshiped him. The nobles praised his wisdom and strength. He was all the kingdom needed.

But he was never the same again.

His heart was buried in a prison cell years ago, left to rot with the ghost of a love he could never reclaim.

And you?

You disappeared.

Some say the guards took you away after the prince left, and that was the end of your story.

Some say you escaped, living in the suburbs, watching over him from the shadows like a forgotten ghost.

But what is the truth?

The truth is more brutal than either story.

Because even after all these years, after all the pain, after all the nights he spent looking at the stars, wondering if things could be different—

Sung Jinwoo is still searching for you.

Even knowing that he will never find you again.

Even knowing that fate has made his choice.

But still…

On the loneliest nights, under the weight of his crown, he will look up at the sky and whisper your name.

As if somehow, somewhere—

You are whispering to him too.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The palace was quiet that night.

Too quiet.

Sung Jinwoo sat alone in the garden, his golden crown placed on the table beside him. The weight of the empire weighed on his shoulders, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Somewhere below this palace, in the dungeon, you were still waiting for him.

He hadn't seen you since the night he was forced to let you go.

He had told himself that staying away was best. That as long as you were alive, there was still a chance—a chance that one day, he could fix what had been broken.

But the silence haunted him.

He needed to see you. Just once.

Even if you hated him. Even if you told him again that you never loved him.

Because he still loved you.

Even now. Even if he had no right to.

Suddenly he heard someone whispering to each other.

He looked towards the source of the sound, why would anyone dare to enter his garden?

Behind a tree, the Grand Duke was talking to someone.

"His Majesty is still searching for that lowly woman."

"Hah, don't worry, no matter how long he searches, he will never find her," the Grand Duke laughed loudly. "Because I killed her and threw her body into the river a long time ago."

Sung Jinwoo's world became quiet.

The quiet murmur of the garden gradually subsided. The wind stopped blowing. The stars above seemed to twinkle, their light struggling against the suffocating weight of his silence.

The Duke's laughter echoed in his ears, each note like a knife cutting into his throat.

'Because I killed her and threw her body into the river a long time ago.'

NO.

His fingers trembled as he reached for the crown beside him.

NO.

His breathing slowed, too slow, his heartbeat heavy, distant.

NO.

The Duke continued speaking, unaware that death was right before his eyes.

And then—

Jinwoo moved.

In the blink of an eye, he was in front of the Grand Duke.

The old man’s laughter faded into silence.

His eyes widened as his body slammed into the tree, held down by an invisible force. His legs kicked, struggling, but Jinwoo held on tight.

The Grand Duke scratched at his throat. “Your Majesty—!”

Jinwoo’s eyes—once warm, once human—had turned pitch black. A darkness so deep, so unfathomable that even the stars above seemed to shrink before his eyes.

“Say it again.”

That voice wasn’t his.

It was something colder. Something cruel.

The Duke gasped, trying to draw air into his lungs. “P-Please—”

Jinwoo’s grip tightened.

“Say it again.”

“Y-Your Majesty—!” The Duke’s face twisted in despair. “I-It was just a joke! A misunderstanding! I would never—”

Jinwoo lifted him higher.

The old man’s feet hovered above the ground, his face flushed.

“A joke?” Jinwoo repeated, his voice strangely calm.

Your body in the dungeon. The iron shackles around your wrists. The blood drying on the cracks in the stone where you lay alone for the last time.

The river.

He threw you into the river.

A grave underwater, beneath the sky that was once yours.

The Duke’s lips turned blue.

Jinwoo stared at him.

A part of him—the king, the man he once was—might have been horrified at that moment.

But there was nothing left of that man.

Not after you.

Not after that.

A gust of wind blew through the garden. The golden crown on the table fell, clattering to the ground.

And then—

Jinwoo crushed the Duke’s throat.

The sound of bones shattering broke the silence of the night.

The Duke’s motionless body collapsed to the ground, his wide, lifeless eyes dull with horror.

Jinwoo didn’t blink.

He couldn’t breathe.

His hands—his hands were shaking.

Not out of anger.

Not out of satisfaction.

But because—

Because it was true.

You were gone.

And there was nothing left for him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The search lasted three days.

Jinwoo himself stood at the riverbank, watching his soldiers wade through the dark waters. The smell of rain, of mud, of something old and lost clung to the air.

But he didn’t move.

No words.

No hope.

And then—

The world ended a second time.

The soldiers found a skeleton in the river, wearing your bracelet and the clothes he had last seen you in.

They gently lifted your remains out of the river, placing them before Jinwoo.

Jinwoo knelt down.

He held out your bracelet, his heart aching painfully.

You were alone.

You died alone.

And it was his fault.

A sound escaped his throat—something rough, something broken.

His shoulders trembled, his fingers clenched.

“Your Majesty…” Igris hesitated. “We should take her back to the palace—”

“Leave us alone.”

His voice was hoarse, unwavering.

Igris opened his mouth, then closed it again. He bowed and signaled the others to retreat.

Jinwoo didn’t raise his head.

As soon as the soldiers left, he reached out to you.

He carefully held you in his arms, as if you would shatter under his touch.

It hurt.

“I was supposed to saved you.” His voice choked.

The stars above him dimmed.

“I was supposed to protected you.”

The river didn’t whisper anything in response.

Jinwoo swallowed, his body trembling.

The hands that had once held hers under the moonlight were now nothing but white bones.

And in that moment—

For the first time in his life—

The great and powerful Monarch Sung Jinwoo broke down.

A tear fell onto your bracelet.

But you could never wipe it away.

Not again.

Never again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The entire palace was in mourning.

Not for the Duke. Not for the sins buried under the royal lies.

They mourned for their king.

For the man who had once been strong, invulnerable.

Now, he had become a ghost.

Jinwoo no longer attended the royal ball. No longer smiled. No longer lived.

He never married.

No noblewoman could take your place. No queen could sit beside him.

Because the only woman he had ever loved was buried beneath the land he ruled.

And so, every night—

When the corridors grew quiet, when the weight of the crown became unbearable—

He would find himself next to what was supposed to be your grave.

He'll sit there, in silence, his hand clutching yours.

And he'll whisper the words he never said.

"I love you."

But you'll never hear them.

Not in this life.

Not next time.

Because fate took you from him.

And he'll never forgive that.

A story that maybe would help you sleep better 🥰

[creole-cappy]

While much of this (particularly the parts about many men's unwillingness to mature and value women respectfully and compassionately) are true, as another voice in the world, I would like to add that there's obviously cultural/value differences at play in the shaping of these dynamics as well.

I agree that the male loneliness "epidemic" is almost entirely self-imposed, but let's not forget that the trends of women's reactions and responses to their treatment by men is just as direct or indirect as men's reactions and responses to their treatment by women, with the added influence of socialization, economic stability (because why wouldn't feelings of existential security affect social attitudes and personal priorities?) and any relevant kind of abuse or manipulation people face at large in both cases.

The patriarchal ideas of social norms affect everyone equally damagingly. It serves neither men nor women for people not to be able to trust and respect each other. Men are very obviously in a cultural/cross-cultural trial of sorts, THANKS TO the liberalization of social norms that countered the fascistic, patriarchal trend of women (and children) being the property of men. That is where the entitlement comes from. It's not the more liberal values that encourage entitlement, it's clinging to ideas of women as means to an end that supports their commodification in things like porn for instance. If anything, the divergence from men being "providers" is a humanization of their being and something which (rightfully imo) supports their emotional autonomy and maturity as humans with natural rights. It's not good to treat women OR men as simply means to an ends.

Never used dating apps much, never really cared to involve myself in "hook-up culture". It seems to be vapid and the driving force behind the situationship problem where people can't openly attach to one another while acknowledging they truly desire emotional intimacy. I won't speak much on it because that's just something I know little about. The comments about the "DL epidemic" also seem just like an opinionated distaste for non-hetero norms. If it's not your thing, why bother with it? (What's odd to me is I hear FAR more about women's non heteronormative trends in recent times, but again, never really substantiated with research or something to make it more than anecdotal claims)

Regardless of how anyone feels or thinks, if men and women can't find a way to manage maturity and respect, everyone's gonna feel the consequences. Men in particular have to really see this manosphere bs for what it is (narcissistic misogyny) and understand their mother is a very significant relative who is NOT a model for how all women should be seen or related to.

@ men, grow up, actually tap into those feelings you were trained to ignore, humble yourself, stop trying to be kings and superheroes and start being good friends and kind people.

The parental-relationship thing also goes for women and their fathers. Treating a man like a security measure is a sure way to embody the exact same kind of narcissism, entitlement, and lack of compassion that causes men to treat women like toys and breeding tubes. You're not obligated to respect somebodies choices without your own boundaries, but you are obligated to acknowledge their humanity and their struggle to make something out of their life. This is everybody's first time on earth. Neither women nor men can cherry pick what parts of the patriarchy are "good" for them and get away with it. It was explicitly made to destroy emotional maturity and trust, because that (compassion and trust) is not what superiority looks like. So if a man is a pathetic pos and a danger to others, other men should check him and keep that ego small. If a woman is entitled and emotionally abusive to the men in her life, I'd like to ask other women to find a way to help each other not ruin your own chances for healthy relationships and happiness. It takes two to tango. It takes a village to raise a child.

Since we have to deal with the influences from others, we may as well start adding some positive influences into the equation ourselves. If you aren't sure what that looks like, now's always a good time to learn. My recommendations to anyone who wants to make sure they have the healthiest relationships, romantic or not, are to learn about your attachment style, learn about your personal or cultural values and the dynamics that support them, to think about your childhood and figure out what you learned or internalized from it, and lastly, to really ask yourself if you want mutual respect or power over others. If the solution to you is wielding power against men/women, I hope you know why.

Tldr, a lot of men are fucked up and it's their fault they aren't getting better, but maturity takes learning and effort. Many women (probably less egregiously common than the men) are also immature af and the cause of their own problems if they refuse to learn & grow. Discriminate accordingly for your personal relationships. Don't look to people you don't like for connection, and don't act like being narcissistic is gonna make you happy.

P*rn, dating apps/hook up culture, and 50/50 normalization are the three main culprits as to why the men of this generation seem so different than men from previous ones, and why so many beautiful and accomplished women are unable to secure a relationship without settling. Men always had their issues collectively, but it was never to the degree that we see today, and it’s largely due to the normalization from an early age to those three things.

The brains of men these days have been wired in a completely overly s3xualized manner. They don’t view women as people but as objects of strict desire and nothing else. Consumption of p*rn has not only given them unrealistic expectations of intimacy, it has influenced their s3xual orientations (see DL epidemic), and their social behaviour. Nowadays many don’t find regular girls attractive, which is why they choose to engage in “taboo” activities to feel some arousal. This leads them to becoming socially inept and to falling easy prey to manosphere content that only reinforces the objectification and dehumanization of women.

Dating apps then come in as an easy way for these men get the illusion of options, because while they might be generally not attractive, in the apps they get instant access to women they otherwise would never have in real life. And because many women have become desperate, by entertaining these men and giving them easy access to their bodies, the men no longer feel like they have to improve and work on themselves to attract a quality partner. It also gives them the idea that women are disposable because at any point they can ghost them for no reason and then swipe right to get another one. It makes them devalue access to us.

This easy access is then transferred to their expectations of relationships. They abuse the concept of equality to manipulate women into financially abusive arrangements where she’s expected to provide fiscally while also performing her feminine duties and taking care of a grown, able-bodied man. Naturally this continues to reinforce men’s lack of respect and gratitude for women in their lives, while increasing their own sense of self-importance, narcissism, ineptitude, and ungratefulness.

Obviously women are not responsible for the actions of men, but we do have the power to not reinforce and condone their sick ways. By deleting dating apps, standing our ground when we oppose 50/50 dating, and choosing to remain abstinent until marriage, we are taking the power dynamics back to our advantage. No, you are not unreasonable for not wanting to be with a man who consumes p*rn, or who wants to be sexually fluid with other men, or who views red pill content that dehumanizes you, or seems unwilling to provide things for you and cherish you in his life. It’s on you to stand firm in your decision to only entertain the gentlemen whose mindsets haven’t been completely fried by modern societal trends.

The “male loneliness epidemic” that we hear so much about is entirely self inflicted (not that anyone cares when it’s women who are lonely), and it’s a direct response to women saying no more to men who exhibit the behaviours outlined above. Hold the line, because they either leave their toxic ways and get better, or they will doom themselves to a life of solitude. Either way, that is their responsibility to fix, not yours.

[kenwio]

Joker's kid! reader : how batfamily would react on them trying to end their life

Route : recovered dove

Please read warnings before reading this one!

If you do not feel like reading it, it's okay! (Spoilers will be at the end of this part) Please have tea or hot cocoa, and read relax 💖 and remember there are people who care and support you 💖 I'll be posting more fluff in future parts

Warnings : heavy topics, mentions of death, implications of self-destructive behavior and suicidal behavior, hurt/comfort, traumatized characters.

Idea for this part from this ask here . I also used this idea for comfort part form here

Author's note : I'm including this part in route: Recovered dove only because I want to show that mental healing of Joker's kid is a long way, it had ups and downs, but in the end they have family who acres about them now.

You don't know what exactly triggered it. Maybe it was the fact that everyone started discussing break out in Arkham asylum instead of the usual breakfast convention, maybe it was how Bruce said he didn't have time for you, maybe it was how Alfred was distant today, so you thought something wrong, maybe it was that Dick ignored you today, maybe it was that Jason's aggressive demeanor when you saw him, maybe it was Tim's comment when you brought him coffee, maybe it was Damian's harshness when you meet him near your room today.

That all made you feel so lost. To see them all being unwelcoming to you again was overwhelming. Is it because your father is free again, and they thought you'd be helping him? Wait if your father is free... he will want you back. You don't want back! No! You don't want to be with him again! You do not want to be experimented on again, be beaten up by him again. You thought it was finally over, that you were taken away from that life, never to return. You thought you found family! Why does he have to ruin your life again? He drove her away from you already, the only person who protected you before Batman and his birds, the only person who was your family before them, your mom ... and now he is doing it again; he is taking your family away again! But were they your family? You thought that Bruce was thinking about you as his own child, you thought that Alfred was proud of your progress, you thought that Dick was happy to spend time with you, you thought that Jason was enjoying your shared reading time, you thought that Tim liked to study with you, you thought that Damian finally accepted you. Were you wrong? Was it all a lie? Did they want to use you as bait for your father? Or did they think you would be able to tell them something about him? Was that a reason why they got close to you? But now that they see they were wrong, and after they made sure you didn't know anything, they decided to drop the act?

Was it all a happy dream that's just ended? If it was a dream, you don't want to wake up to the nightmare of your previous life. You can't take the suffering anymore. You need to make it stop to end it, to end it all.

You didn't know how long you were in you were in your thoughts, when you got up. You wanted to live. The room that became your own, became your safe space now felt like JOKE. You needed to get away from it. You struggled to open the window, as it required much strength from your shaking hands. But you were persistent in your efforts to open it, and in the end window opened. You looked down, it was quite high, and you knew that for your body, which was unlike theirs, weak and fragile, it would be enough. You've seen a grown man die when he fell from his high back in a crime alley, so for you, it will definitely be enough. Oh, crime alley, you don't want to go there. You don't want to return to life with Joker. You stood up on the windowsill, looking at the green grass down, feeling the cold night wind against your skin. Your head felt heavy, ringing in your ears just made it all worse. You took one step, and you felt incredibly calm. You took another step, only to be pulled away from the windowsill on the ground and held up. You didn't register the loud voice, the way someone was shaking you. You just sit there staring at nothing in particular, not even able to cry because of how tired you are.

In the meantime, Damian, the one who pulled you away from the window, had already called everyone and was trying hard to make you snap out of it. Yet it was not helping. When Bruce arrived, he moved Damian, who was looking at you with extreme worry, aside. Bruce recognized your expression; he had seen it before - thousand-yard stare - your own mind was protecting you from whatever you were feeling. As he was trying to help you, holding you against him, trying to soothe you, the rest of the family arrived in your room, seeing scared Damian, worried Bruce, and you... you looked so broken. It was too hard on them all

A few hours later, when you fell asleep after you came to your senses and cried for a while, Bruce and others started figuring out what made you feel this way. And it didn't take long; they are a family of detectives, after all. And this all made them feel really bad, guilty. As it turned out, on this day, you were too unlucky to notice only the bad sides of things.

There wasn't any breakout In Arkham asylum. Turns out, the lead they were investigating turned out to be false. Bruce, indeed, was busy, but he failed to communicate this in the normal way: he only added that he would try to make some only by the time you stepped away, which he didn't notice. Alfred was distant because he had a migraine today, but he still wanted to work around the house; there were too many chores to be done in the Wayne manor. Dick didn't mean to ignore you, he was too tired after his few nights of being up and he just failed to notice your quiet presence, being too busy thinking about his bed. Jason was behaving aggressively because of the lead about break out from Arkham asylum, which was the one that he followed for his case, and since it was false; it took the case he was working on back to square one. Tim actually was mumbling about his case, quietly cursing criminals, and not you; just like Jason, he had too much trouble because of that stupid lead. Damian stepped in at the last second to help you avoid stumbling and falling when you were waking in your room, which resulted in his harshness to you, but you were too deep in your panic to notice that his gaze was more worried than angry. If Damian wouldn't have been worried and decided to check up on you... non of them want to think about it.

They spend night in your room and in the morning, they talked to you, communicating how things actually were the previous day, and expressing how important you were to them.

It was a shock to everyone. Even Bruce thought it was going fine, that your session was working and helping you, that you were feeling safe, and that your relationships with the rest of the family were getting better. And he knew that what happened damaged the whole family because they almost lost you. He regretted that he didn't phrase his words correctly, feeling like he failed to show his care for you. He knew he should have been careful with words, he knows how impactful they can be. And since he said he hadn't got time for you he started making time for you. He wants you to know that he cares for you and he will make time for you wherever you need him. His one daily check-up became 2 check-ups, and when he had more free time, he checked up more. He pays extra attention to you. Even your little sneeze will make him worried to the point of examination in a medbay. He stays with you, and sometimes talks with you, encouraging you to open up and share your opinion and feelings. He tries to lessen the influence of "bad guidelines" (that were with you because of Joker) in your head. He helps you talk through your feelings, helps you show them and process them. He reminds you that you are cared for now. And he promises that he will protect you. After hearing you out, learning your fears and insecurities, and when he learned out that most of all you are afraid to go by your father's way, he promises you that he will do everything in his power to prevent you from taking this way. Bruce wants you to be happy, to make good memories. You already got unlucky with your father, who made you experience hell, but Bruce will try to be the best Dad he can for you.

Alfred felt so guilty. He knew you needed care, but he was distracted. He feels like he let you down, by forgetting how fragile and sensitive you are. He knew you were struggling; he had seen it himself. If only he had paid you more attention. But Alfred, better than anyone else, knows that he shouldn't be focusing on the past; he needs to work on the present, and he needs to make sure you feel better. He makes sure to make you more happy while he can. It's always your favorite tea at the tea time you share, with his cookies, of course, which he bakes with you from time to time. It's always your comfort shows or documentaries on TV when you two watch something. He also makes sure no one dares to make you feel uncomfortable, even if it will make him look around like Hawk. But Alfred understands that he can't always be around; that's exactly why he makes sure that he teaches you at least a few techniques that would be able to help with worry and anxiety, and he practices them with you. You are his little star, who may be really quiet but still efficiently lights up his days, and he doesn't want to lose you. When you share that you are afraid your family will reject you, he personally goes to everyone, making sure that they won't be saying something that contains a message. He wants to see you all grown up and happy in the end; he will work hard to make sure your life in Manor will be good.

Even when Dick just heard how Damian called for help for you, he felt shocked, what to say when he saw and understood the situation. What do you mean his baby sibling tried to make their life end when he was blissfully unaware, sleeping in his old room? How? What he missed? Just a few days before, you seemed on your way to becoming the happy sunshine of a kid, and now that has happened? He is your older brother and he missed all the singes?! He needs to sit down. It's too hard to accept this version of reality for him. The reality is that he can lose another member of the family. He knows what it is like to lose a sibling, and he will never want to experience it or feel this pain again. And knowing that it's you who tried to end your life makes it all worse. He tries to understand what pushed you, trying to see what he can do to prevent this from happening. He also tries to distract you from all the negativity in your life with quality time and different activities. The incident shook him hard, and while he hoped to introduce you to cuddles differently, he had to do it now. He needs to make sure you are close, still warm, still safe, still alive. And it seemed like cuddling with him made you calmer; you didn't even realize how touch-starved you were until then. It became a sort of comforting ritual for both of you, cuddling, sometimes just cuddling, sometimes while watching something. While cuddling he often says sweet words of reassurance to you. And while he knows he can't stay in Manor forever, he makes sure you know that he is always here for you, just a call away.

Jason was mad at himself for allowing himself to snap at you earlier. He feels incredible guilt that he was the reason that you were in that state. For a few days after, he could only watch you in your room or living room until he talked about his feelings and the incident (how he calls it because he can't speak that out loud, it physically hurts him to admit it) with Bruce and Dick. He started slowly approaching you, continuing your reading sessions, but also, sometimes, he decided just to start talking with you. He shares with you his experiences in the crime alley, and you share yours; you both know that only you two in the whole family could understand the full horror of this place, and that's aside from the fact that both of you know the full horror of Joker. He says to you that you'll never become like him, because he sees you are different. Jason tries to comfort you, yet he knows he is not ideal in it, but he is willing to try as much as he can just for you. He can understand that you feel lonely; he can only imagine how lonely you get when all the family is busy with vigilante work. It got him thinking, remembering. He remembers times when he was still Robin, and sometimes, when he got hurt, he stayed in his room alone, and. he hated it. Back when Dick gifted him a plushie of a bat, and now, in another attempt to comfort you, he brings this old plushie to you. He tells you that this plushie kept him company and protected him from everything bad, and now it will protect you, and now you'll never be alone anymore; your family's love will be here for you.

Tim was second after Damian to arrive in your room. This sight horrified him. He just froze, in shock. For once, he didn't know how to act or what to do. After everyone made sure you were okay, and his brain began working again, he started to do what he knew best - investigating and researching to find ways of how to help you, trying them with you in the meantime. Art therapy? He tried to hold a few sessions with you. Special games? You both alredy beating third one. Special music? Here is his player, listen when you want. He becomes more attentive to you, noticing every little detail. He knows as a person who likes studies like him, you would want to learn more about your mental health and how to care about yours. He found a way to explain the basics of it all to you in a way that is easier for you to understand, and only when she reads articles (that he chose, of course) about mental health and coping mechanisms. You want to cuddle with him while reading? Good, he will do it (he is happy that Dick showed you how to cuddle and totally not jealous). You want to stay with him while he works? Okay, sure, he is here for you. He makes sure you can ask him anything; he reminds you that you are safe with him and with others. So when you ask about Arkham and your father there he makes sure to show you that Arkham is hard to get out (even if it's not true).

Damian didn't like how it felt to see you on the windowsill. He doesn't like how it feels to see you in this state. He doesn't like fear. But fear made one thing clear: he cares about you. He hadn't understood how important you became until that incident happened. You are his sibling, and even if he did not choose you, even if he was against the idea of you being in the family at first, now he knows you held a place in this family like everyone else. And now he knows that he will do everything in his power to make you safe; he will protect you even from yourself. He asked Bruce to install precautions in your room. He follows you like your shadow everywhere you go. He makes sure that there is no danger in your way. He checks up on how you sleep after patrols. He makes sure to be nicer when he is around you, and he heads to ask Father, Pennyworth, and Grayson how exactly to behave around you. He joins in Tim the research of ways for you to cope with traumas or ways to comfort you, and when he sees articles about how communicating with animals improves mental health, he brings Titus to you, and when he goes for walks with Titis he makes sure to take you on them too since he also found out that walks improve mental health, and since it's walking with Titus it's beneficial in double. He protects you and he cares for you even if he struggles with proving it

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Thank you for reading! Feel free to share your opinion and have a good day 💖

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Tag list :

@socially-embarrassing , @leovergurl , @deathbynarcisstick , @cryptic-arr0w , @lynns-cornerr , @cxcilla ,  @charlotteking23 , @ninihrtss , @lillycore , @pix-stuff , @tfamidoingwithmylife , @linoalwaysknows , @00hellohello00 , @lilithskywalker , @bagofrice , @lenaisaloser , @devilslittlehelper , @camilo-uwu , @l3v1us , @eyeless-kun , @stargazingbutgayer, @wpdarlingpan , @weirdothatreads , @maybea1 @lyla-viper-wayne @amber-content @lizzyzzn

if i forgot to add someone to the tag list, please let me know, and i will add you to the next part

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Spoiler:

Next chapter connected to this (click here) and after that I'll finally write about Joker's kid! reader hair dyeing adventures

[sacrificiallane]

too sweet ۶ৎ  percy jackson smut

cw: heavy make out turned dry humping. (bodily fluids), drenched underwear, horny teens! percy being the sweetest boyfriend ever. allusion to giving head (it doesn’t really happen, though)

not proofread, oops

"i love you," kiss, "love you," kiss, "gods ―"

Percy Jackson speaks pretty nonsense when your plush lips trail further and further down his body. he swears this is his Elysium ― pushed into his sea themed sheets and getting utterly loved by you.

"so, so good to me, pretty girl." and you live by his constant praise.

only in his blue boxers he's literal putty under your teasing hands, as your mouth trails a path over each of his freckles, seemingly forming constellations with just your sweet mouth on him.

it's muscle memory when his hips lift off the bed, trying to get even more friction from how easily your making out had turned into... this.

your lips easily find the rough patch of his happy trail, and Percy stutters a little in his breathing. he is closing his eyes in anticipation, his fingers already finding space in your hair.... and then ―

― and then your mouth quickly moves back up, almost as if you're rushing to get back into familiar territory. it's the only indication he needs, to know that you're not just merely trying to tease him.

his sea green eyes slowly flutter open again, and Percy tries to find his thoughts somewhere that isn't tugged under his waistband.

his voice is all hazy when his eyes connect with yours again.

"you scared to go lower?"

and his question was so genuine ― you wanted to cry. he wasn't being pushy, and nothing in his tone suggested that he was disappointed or upset. no, your boyfriend was genuinely checking in with you, to see if you were okay with all this.

he then found your gaze turn a bit sheepish, almost... shy, as you slowly nodded your pretty head at him. "uhm, yea," he heard you whisper, and a flush overtook your features, "it's scary down there. i don't know what to do with... all that."

oh. oh….

Percy can't even stop himself from snorting a bit at your answer. leave it to his partner, to describe his most sensitive part as 'scary'. he finds it all too sweet, too!

of course, there was barely anything you could do 'wrong' with it, in his mind, anyway. but Percy is the last person to push you into something you aren't completely comfortable with.

the guy would happily just let you kiss him silly, if that's all you're comfy with!

"sweetheart," his gaze softens at your admission, and his thumb softly brushes over your cheek, just to see you look less worried about his reaction. "that's totally fine," he hums, and watches you closely, "we can try some other time. or we can never try again. whatever you'd like. i'm happy when you’re happy, honestly."

but it's the way you tell him that you totally don't want to stop this completely! you have urges too, after all. so Percy finds himself greedily licking into your mouth, until further thoughts just melt away. he's quick to flip the both of you over, hovering above you, all while making pretty little sounds of pleasure that mingle with your own.

his body molds perfectly against your own, and a roll of his hips is enough to leave you dumb. your lips are all shiny and swollen when he's done with devouring your face, and a lopsided smile splits over his lips that make your tummy flutter. he‘s on you before you can even take a moment to breathe, already thrusting ― gentle, slow ― against your clothed most sensitive part.

you‘re so overwhelmed by his sheer gentleness, that your own hips desperately buckle against his! and Percy can only watch in awe as your legs open wider for him, as to beckon him even closer.

he doesn’t need you to suck his dick! no, Percy prefers you just like this… sprawled open and eager for him to take care of you.

your hand seeking out his own, is enough to have his own stomach flutter. he is quick to interlock his fingers with yours, pressing them into the mattress right beside your head and keeping them there...

and Percy is almost embarrassed at how much he is really leaking through his boxers. it creates a wet squelching patch right where his tip keeps rubbing into your clit, and the mere sight of such has him less embarrassed and even more eager to make you both feel good.

his eyes quickly find yours again, knowing that you need just a bit more coaxing to really find your peak like this. "it's okay pretty girl," the son of poseidon coos gently, closely watching your facial expression. he knows you're close.

you swallow thickly, not able to look anywhere else but him. his muscles move with his trusting, making you all dizzy with how much you love him! how good he makes you feel, too. "Perce―" your breath hitches when your walls flutter around nothing. you're so so close, yet not quite there yet...

"i know, i know." your little whine makes his hand tighten around your own, has his hips grind harder against your clothes pussy, because he is right there with you!

when his hand comes down to press and rub over the fabric of where your sweet clit is hidden underneath, is when you find yourself finally falling apart...

he is so boyfriend, im crying (inspo from a tiktok i watched)

[revelboo]

I'm in love with Metroplex because of you 🫵. This man, I just can't...Thank you for your work! It's all beautiful. It really made me happy in a difficult moment 💗

I’m glad my writing could help! Metroplex has been a fun storyline to write, though I was really intimidated by the request when I first got it. Had no idea how to make it work

I Can Feel You Pt 18

Metroplex x Reader

• “Little city speaker.” There’s a weight against you and you sleepily look up at the familiar pulse of his spark high above you. Imagining that it’s the same rhythm as your heartbeat as impossible as that is. One drone’s head is laying on your belly, the other two at your sides, arms draped across you like warm, living weighted blankets. And you have no idea which one he’s speaking through, unable to tear your eyes from his spark. From that mesmerizing light and warmth.

• “Is that an official title?” One of the Autobots had joking called you that once. And you’ve felt purposeless for so long among the Autobots. Too little to help anyone, only getting in the way. But you’d helped Metroplex. Want to continue to help him, to be his voice since he’s still reluctant to talk to anyone else even through his drones.

• “A Titan needs his city speaker,” he replies, reaching with Six Gun’s hand to cup your cheek. “His voice.” Doesn’t want anyone else to fill that role, only you. And it lets him keep you close. Keep you safe. Isn’t sure how much you know about Cybertronians. Has anyone explained about their sparks to you? About spark bonds? Doubts it, but isn’t sure how to broach the subject. How to ask even more of you than you’ve already given him. It seems so greedy, but he can’t stop thinking of it. Wondering if you’d accept all of him. “I need you.”

• Heart warming at words, you feel Scamper shift against you. Resting his chin on you and looking up your body. It’s a funny feeling knowing this is him. All three drones Metroplex. And that you’re inside him at the same time. Feeling the words you want to say right there on the tip of your tongue and your own uncertainty holding you back. Know that he cares for you, but also that he’s ancient. That your life is probably a blink to him and that fills you with an aching sorrow. Because that must be so lonely. Hound has once told you that Metroplex was the last surviving Titan. That’s what makes you want to say it. To make sure he knows. “I love you.”

• For a moment he loses the connection to his drones, so startled by your words. Because it’s what he’d wanted, but hadn’t dared hope for. Knows everything about him must be so strange and unsettling to you, but you’ve stayed by him all along. Kept reaching out and trying to help him again and again. And those words mean everything to him. Wrapping all three drones around you, holding you the only way he can. “I love you, too, little one.” Wants to bond you so badly, but doesn’t want to rush you. You have time now to get to know each other, though he already knows you so well.

Previous

[zethsdumpster]

OMG OMG OMG THEY ALL LOOK SO AMAZING

I'm devouring your art 😋🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

I'm so glad I could be of help

And all the lil scenarios had me CACKLING

The Vinsibs are all cringy losers (but, come on, Sanji, let your baby brother throw you that one rock, only one, it's not like they can have nice things anyway, cuz of Judge)

I do need them to be blown away into the sky, going *clink" as they disappear in the distance 😂😂😂😂😂

UGH

They are all just so GOOD

Anyway I had to satisfy that itch and draw some stuff, even if my markers have been region blocked (I left them at my parents house...)

Also, about what you said about Hancock, now I can't stop picturing strong winds blowing people away while she's just standing there completely unaffected by it (careful Ichiji! Don't lose that precious piece of paper!)

More Doki Doki Battle Academy OP AU

even MOOROEEE of themmmmmahhhhhhh babyeyyy i even added some dialogues fir some extra flavourrrrr (kuma and bonney's gif there would be a sprite he would have in his dialogue scenes. i dont think it would be a gif like this, more like everytime you look back at him, bonney would be in a different spot)

original DDBA designs post (has more lore there, go look at it plese :3

imagining the vinsmoke/strawhat beef going like this video

design stuffs and more lore:

preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.

The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.

One of the schools is called the Germa 66 Private Battle Academy, it goes from grades 1-12 and its where the Vinsmoke siblings all went too (at least until sanji broke off from the family at some point) and its run by Judge Vinsmoke, their father.

i am thinking that the Vinsmoke kids would still be genetically modified and Kuma would be a cyborg in this too.

design stuffs:

Ichiji: i tried to make him as punk as he would feasably get away with living under his father's rule. Big "combat" boots, fingerless gloves, black undershirt. He likes his style and would probably go all out if he didnt have to conform to his school uniform, thus i put a little heart on his boots.

Niji: i also made him like his style. The rings on his fingers, his nikes shoes, his big headphones. Like a gamer who thinks this is what fashion is. I think he would love listening to music too so i put his heart on his headphones.

Yonji: big stakly guy. Hes a lot more hands-on than his brothers so i put lots of emphasis on that area. i put his heart on his hand wraps because i think he would really love fighting. I think that Yonji is most like his father in that enjoyment, but i think Judge wouldnt like how casual Yonji's style is.

Reiju: y2k queen. I love this design on her so much im so bummed that she would have already graduated from the academy and i cant put her in a Hit Me Baby One More Time-esque uniform outfit, shed fucking KILL THAT SHITTT. Anyway though, reiju's heart is subtle yet in plain view, the locket around her neck. i dont think she would let anyone look at the contents but i do think that absolutly it would be her mother on one side and her brothers on the other. She wouldnt like people looking at it because that would mean someone could see that her dad isnt in there and she would get it a lot of trouble with her father about it.

Power ranger fits: i made them full on power rangers. its what they deserve. Since reiju has a butterfly motif in canon, i thought it would be fun to also give her brothers a bug motif of their own. ichiji is a wasp, niji is a dragonfly, yonji is a stag beetle. If sanji stuck around, hed probably be a lady bug lol. Also the masks they wear, the eye window part, it’s like tear tracks coming out but in a way that doesnt look like thats what they are. But it’s meant to show how judge forcing his children to be these people is causing them pain.

thank you @zethsdumpster for being my Vinsmoke specialist and helping me come up with a lot of their design stuff!

Doflamingo: i tried to make him a Nasty Nasty man. Like if a used car salesman made it big. Like if Macklemore was MackleMORE. i love the idea that he likes to tan himself, but he doesnt take any of his clothes off to do so, so he just has the absolute craziest tan lines ever. i put his hearts on the gold chain around his neck, he loves his wealth but not much else. i love the idea of him having two very expensive watches on each wrist. there may be more watches up his sleeve too. i also gave him fluffy dice around his neck, like he's one of the cars that he's selling.

Rosinante: i couldnt get away much longer without putting the heart man into the heart 'game'. i couldve went off more with the hearts of his design but i didnt want him to become nearly as flashy as his brother. i wanted him to be understated and fade into the background when doflamingo is around. he is dead in this au btw sorry :/ this is his design when he passed, but doffy's design is present day him. anyway, Rosi's hearts are everywhere, its in the outline of his big huggable fluffy coat, its on his hat thats pulling him down, it would be on his shirt too if it wasnt covered by his coat in this image.

Bonney: SHEEES SO CUUTEEEE AAAAAAAA i love her. I based her design off of Avril Lavigne with her iconic necktie/tanktop/baggy pants looks. i tried to make her outfit look like she could feasibly fit in it when she ages herself up, especially her big ol shoes. the heart in her design is in her neck tie. The stereotypical visage of a dad is a man in a tie who goes to work, and she loves her dad, so her heart is in her dad tie.

Kuma: I didn't change much of him from his design in canon, but since bonney would be more in his life in this version, i wanted to give him more visual indicators of her being there. like the height chart on his leg, or the fuzzy hat she crocheted for him (she also made her own hat for herself). Also, the pattern on his shirt is one that looks like a paw, but if you took off that outer layer, if the pattern continued, the design would be a sun, and i just think that was really clever ehe ehe.

Hancock: Basically i tried to make her the baddest bitch in the universe. My program crashed like 3 times making her which is so funny. Procreate couldnt handle her. I based her design off of Medusa. at first i had her snake be made out of marble, but it eventually wound up at Obsidian. She has no visible hearts on her design and thats because it would be the scar on her back, which she tries to hide. i like the idea that this very visibly revealing outfit would be perfectly tailored and reinforced to never move a single inch to let anyone see what theyre not supposed to. I dont know how i would justify her being able to turn people into stone in this AU, so im just not going to make a decision on whether or not she can do that.

ive been working on these designs off and on ever since i made the first post on this au and im real happy i can finally put more out.

if you got to the end of this, thank you so much for reading~ i hope you enjoyed :)

[edward-munson]

I don't care | S.H.

Summary: Taking care of Steve after he was attacked by an army of demobats seems like a lot of work, only because apparently he doesn't like you.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of injury, allusion to smut

Word count: 2.2k

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"You want them spicy or not?" You ask Steve as you make nachos for dinner for both of you.

He's lying on the couch, on his back. He still recovers from the attack of the demobats. His neck is almost fully scarred, but the bites on his stomach and his sides are still painful. You've been laying low together for close to two weeks.

Your friends didn't want to make you team up with them to find Vecna and kill him. Not that you're not brave or strong enough to do so. But you're still pretty new to all of this and someone had to stay with Steve. So you didn't even bother opposing the idea, even though he's not your biggest fan.

God knows why, he never told his reasons. And your friends didn't know either. Maybe Eddie did, but he wouldn't open his mouth about it.

"I still think this is really unnecessary. I'm not a fucking child" He complains as he walks past the kitchen door, leaning against the sink.

With crossed arms, he looks at your food. You made chilli beans, guacamole and cheese sauce for the spicy nachos. You look up at him, trailing your eyes on his neck for an instant before raising an eyebrow to him.

"You can't even hold your own weight, Harrington. Stop being a crybaby".

Steve scoffs at you, but doesn't move an inch from his position. "Jesus, I wish we had another plan".

You drop the spoon you were using, turning your face to look at him. "I'm only doing this because they asked me to. Get off your own ass".

You leave the kitchen, walking out to the bedroom you were sleeping on. You were staying at his house. It's not like there were other options, but you couldn't refuse to stay there when he's alone and barely walking. Well, he can walk. The worst part is that he needs rest because of his wounds.

The past two weeks you've been quite getting along. Not that much, really. It's not like you were friends. Probably more like close acquaintances. Because obviously, he was the one pushing you away.

You didn't leave your room for a while, you were too annoyed to eat, and since it was dinner for the two of you, it didn't feel like you should eat anymore. You decided to spend your time watching something on the TV, which would easily make you get bored.

And then you would read books, or write stuff. It's been pretty tough lately since Vecna appeared. Max almost got killed and now she was staying at Dustin's house. The other kids were coming back to Hawkins to help, maybe Eleven might be able to do something about that.

You actually wished you were doing something fun. Like, taking a trip to the beach or snowboarding since it's fall and the weather has been cold. Your thoughts were pushed back by a knock on the door. Steve didn't open it and you didn't mention doing it either, so he just stayed there.

"Sorry I was an idiot" His voice came out muffled through the closed door. "I know I've been cranky and annoying".

You only opened the door after a couple of minutes, not exactly sure if he was still there. But he looked up from the floor at you. "You used to be nice. I mean, way before this curse happened".

He stayed quiet, because you were right. But what else can he do if the world was turned upside down (almost literally) again? And you almost got them killed once, not on purpose of course.

You were also the one to get too close to Robin and he hated seeing his best friend sharing her friendship with someone else. Because up until then, he was the only one she was the closest he had to a friend, even though he had a strong relationship with Eddie too.

None of it was your fault, but he grew annoyed over you. He couldn't lie to himself and say you weren't too kind and helpful. But he started to become extremely unenthusiastic over you through the year.

"A lot has happened since then. I'm trying to live up to the fact that we're against another monster again" Steve leans an arm against the doorframe, but refuses to keep his gaze at you.

"Which isn't my fault, by the way. Not to mention I'm the one who pulled you out of the watergate before you were eaten".

Another few seconds of silence, which was followed by a sarcastic nasal laugh. He shook his head and hung it low to the floor.

"Oh, you want a prize for that? Because I remember clearly when I didn't ask for your help!" His words were harsh, even if not intended.

But now you were the one who didn't know what to say. Until you feel the bitter taste on your tongue.

"Guess I should've let them rip your skin apart, then".

He saw the door shutting in front of him, cursing himself for being extremely idiotic and insensitive. He almost felt like punching his own face for that.

Steve heard you talking to Eddie that night through your walkie talkie. It was a little bit hard to hear because the reception was static for you. But you could listen to Eddie and God, you missed him and the others. It started to become unbearable to live with Steve. He heard you lament the whole situation, complaining about the way you were treating each other.

He was bitter about the things they were going through. He was angry he couldn't have done more. And he was taking it out all on you. He couldn't face another apology on the same day, because he knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven. Not right now.

The next day, he made breakfast by himself. It took you by surprise, but by the time you were up, he had already eaten. And you wouldn't want to eat with him either. You remember Nancy saying the bickering was just "sexual tension" but you knew it didn't have anything to do with that.

Even though you felt your ears burning from the thought, you couldn't deny to yourself that he was pretty charming. And seeing him shirtless whenever he would change the gauze made you feel weird. God, his hair was always pretty while yours looked like a bird nest after waking up.

The day seemed to have lasted longer since you haven't exchanged a single word to each other. He was focused on watching movies, playing video games and listening to music. He was getting bored out of his mind, but there wasn't much he could do being injured.

You, on the other hand, went out to do some errands. In fact, you didn't care you left him alone. You were getting tired of staying inside. So you went to see Max, and invited her to eat at Burger King. She seemed to feel better to do something like that too. Everything seemed pretty fuzzy lately.

Will, Mike and Eleven were pretty close to Hawkins. Thanks to Argyle who thinks he's a speed racer, and Jonathan who encourages him to drive long hours so they can arrive as soon as possible.

It was almost 7 PM when you came back home. You've finally had some fun after a week. You obviously couldn't be going out since they still haven't found Vecna and he knows about you too. The man in front of you seemed pretty pissed that he didn't see you were out until he woke up two hours ago.

"What? Don't give me that father look" You dropped your backpack on the floor and followed upstairs.

He's got a whole show prepared and he wasn't feeling like he would regret it this time.

"You know you can't just fucking go out and yet, you still do" He walked behind you, like a mother scolding a child.

"Yeah, dad. I know so. But here I am, back in pieces" You turned on your heel to look at him before closing your door.

Much to your dismay, he was faster this time, holding it with his right foot and right hand. Even injured, he was still stronger than you.

"No, don't push it. You can be an easy target for him, you know that?"

You huff, dropping your arm to your side. "Look, Harrington. I'm an adult, and I'm very aware of what I do or don't do. So please, just stop making a scene and leave me the fuck alone".

Steve couldn't even stand arguing with you anymore, it was so tiring. But he knew he would blame himself if something ever happened to you out there. He couldn't let this happen to you, even though you've been annoying him for whatever reason.

He took a step towards you, his hands balling into fists. The way your eyes were boring into him in an unamused face irritated him even more.

"Look, honey" His tone was purely sarcastic and you felt it not only in his voice, but in his demeanor too. "You know you're putting yourself at risk doing that. If I'm not fucking sure you're safe as well, I won't live with that".

At each passing second, you could feel him walking to you, but you couldn't walk back. You couldn't run from him, you couldn't get away from him. You wouldn't, you didn't feel like you wanted to.

"And not just because of my friends, they sure would kill me. But because I couldn't lose another person" You feel his breathing hitting your face, his eyes flicking as he looks at you.

He looks down at you with such intensity, it's crazy how there's a magnetic pull towards him.

You hold his gaze, feeling a cold shiver down your spine. He didn't look like he was about to snap at you, even though his tone was a bit loud.

He furrows his brows when he sees your lip curling into a smirk. "Well, Steve" His fingers move by the sound of his name, you always call him Harrington. "I thought you didn't care if I died or not".

This time, he was the one to smirk at you. "Honey, I don't remember saying I never cared about you".

Your stomach sank at that. Because now as you think of it, it comes crashing down as a realization that he never really said anything related to that. He truly never spoke about it.

"Doesn't seem like it"

"You see, this is why you annoy me so much" His nose bumps into yours, but he still gazes at you like he doesn't mean to avoid eye contact.

"Yeah? Then you should–" He doesn't let you finish your sentence.

Steve crashes his lips against yours, his hands flying down your hips. He feels your immediate reaction as you don't correspond right away. For a few seconds, he thinks he's done the wrong thing and almost regrets it, until you grab him by the neck with both hands. You wrap your fingers around his neck, your fingertips grazing the nape of his hair.

Your lips are smacking his lips in a hurry, while he runs a hand to cradle your face. He slips his tongue into your mouth and holds his breath when he feels your tongue moving in sync with him. He doesn't want to admit this is what he wished he could've done before.

Steve has been so stressed lately that he could only think about defeating Vecna. He didn't realize how much you were willing to take care of him these weeks. All he knew was that he also had to take care of you. And this is why he became so angry when you left without him knowing.

Especially because if something did happen to you, he would feel the regret of being an asshole to you.

He rips a low whimper from you when he gently grasps your lower lip by his teeth as he heaves against your mouth. You're both too absorbed into your own feelings, leaving grunts and gripping each other everywhere.

His fingers were digging your skin every time you would kiss his jawline and he was growing eager. He didn't want to look like he was trying to take advantage of you, only noticing now how much you also wanted this.

He then roughly pulls your shirt off, watching as your chest is quickly rising and falling. And his eyes sparkled when he saw your cleavage for the first time like that. Your bra perfectly hugging your round big breasts.

Steve didn't wait any longer, holding your waist and pushing you back against your bed.

That night, he pounded on you just like you dreamed about. He slapped his hips against your ass just like you wished someone would one day. The air was filled with sounds and lust.

You didn't even notice when your friends arrived right after he had an orgasm. You didn't have time to get dressed, only getting caught when Robin opened the door to you both naked. He didn't have time to remove his condom. She saw you naked. And worse. She saw her best friend naked.

And you thought it was going to be awkward, until Eddie turned the awkwardness into "I knew these idiots would fuck".

The night was all about this. They decided to leave the Vecna subject for the next day.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Luke would be the type to keep his private life very private so him having a gf only really his family and friends in michigan know so the devils have no clue and i could see the boys always trying to get luke to hookup with people for like a whole season till next season when they finally learn luke has had a gf the whole time

Oh boy, 100%. He always just politely tells them he's not interested in dating anyone or having a casual hookup or pretends he doesn't notice what they're doing. Jack 100% does not help, he finds it hilarious when any of the guys are trying to get Luke to talk to some random girl in a bar, but he will 100% confirm to you that Luke is the most loyal boyfriend you could ask for. I also see Luke feeling guilty about it even though he hasn't done anything, so every time he gets back to the apartment he's telling you if you live together or phoning you if you don't and basically confessing his 'sins', like 'i'm so sorry, baby, Marky tried to get me to go out with this blonde and she wouldn't stop touching my arm and I told her I wasn't interested and I only love you.' Definitely reaches a point where he breaks and just goes 'STOP! I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND' and all the guys are just like 'why the hell didn't you tell us this sooner?' Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :) Writing Masterlist

"Hey, C'mon, Rusty! What about the blonde at the end of the bar?" Curtis points to a young woman around Luke's age, platinum blonde hair, little black dress, who's eyeing Luke like he might be candy. It doesn't flatter him, if anything it sends a sick feeling to his gut, a roiling discomfort because only you're allowed to look at him like that. You can eye fuck him, no one else. He feels objectified.

"Curtis, I've told you I'm not interested. Not my type." Not his type because his girlfriend is his only type and there's only one of you. It doesn't matter if 100 attractive women all tried to get his number right now, he wouldn't care, wouldn't give it out because you're the one he wants. Literally no one compares to you, he's smitten, whipped, absolutely in love.

"C'mon, seriously! You didn't go out with anyone all last season! Not even a hook up, you're celibate, man! You're young, you should be having fun!" Curtis knocks his shoulder with a grin and Luke just grips his beer tighter, feeling a familiar frustration at the situation. He spent all of last season dealing with the boys trying to goad him into hook ups and flings, throwing women at him like it was their duty to get him laid. He hated every minute of it.

"Yeah, Lukey, you were practically celibate, a monk," Jack chimes in, arm thrown over Luke's shoulder with a grin, the irony of his words not lost on either of them because Luke was definitely not celibate last year. He just wasn't hooking up with random strangers, because he'd started dating you, because you were the only person he wanted to see, to kiss, to sleep with and that still stood firm and true.

"Just go talk to her, maybe you'll get lucky and go home with her tonight! C'mon, what's wrong?" It's Dougie that chimes in this time and Luke wants to die. He wants to die. Or alternative go to your apartment and curl up with you in bed because this is the worst.

"Yeah, are you scared, Lukey?" If Jack wasn't his brother he'd have killed him already, killed him for encouraging all of this bullshit for a year, knowing full well that Luke wasn't single. But, he can't because his mom would be upset if Jack died...he rolls his eyes at him instead, shrugging his arm off of his shoulders.

"You're not secretly a virgin or anything, right, Rusty?"

"Fuck off, Lazar." He snaps, not because it would matter if he was, but because it's stupid that that's the only reason people can comprehend he wouldn't want to sleep around. Maybe it's just not his thing to have hook ups? Maybe he's focusing on his career? Maybe he's already in love and anything else would be cheap and insignificant in comparison?

"Oh, that's hit a nerve, some truth in that?" The guys are all grinning at him like they think they've got it all worked out and it just...it makes him snap, slamming the bottle of beer he'd been cradling to the bar top.

"No, y'know why I don't want to go talk to some random fucking blonde in the bar or hook up with whatever girl you throw my way? Because I've got a fucking girlfriend, okay? I'm not virgin! I'm not celibate! I just don't want to fuck a girl that isn't my girlfriend!" Luke's breathing heavy by the end of it, red it the face because it is so fucking annoying to constantly be bugged about it and he just wants everyone to get off his back. He's happily with you, he doesn't need random hook ups and he certainly doesn't need his team mates trying to get him laid like they have some moral duty to do so.

The way they look at him makes him feel stupid because suddenly they're all calling out variations of, "Dude! Why the fuck didn't you tell us this sooner?!" and he realises that maybe he could have solved this all months earlier by just saying he was seeing someone...like a normal person, maybe? But he'd wanted to keep things private...

He flounders for an explanation, mouth opening and closing, running a hand through his mess curls like that might help his brain to function.

"I just...it was new and...we were keeping it private."

It's Marky that turns to look at Jack, "Did you not know about this?"

"Oh, I knew." Jack is all smug enjoyment, leaning back against the bar and winking at the blonde Curtis had been trying to set Luke up with. Satisfaction rolled off him in cocky waves.

"Why they hell did you let us shove girls at your brother then?" Curtis asks, shocked, nay baffled because Jack had just spent an entire season practically encouraging the behaviour all while knowing full well Luke was dating you.

"It was funny," He shrugs with a grin and mentally Luke is considering whether the price he'd pay is worth putting itching powder in Jack's underwear drawer or maybe if cutting his hair in his sleep would be a better punishment since he can't rip another set of braces off him like Quinn did.

"That's messed up, Jack!" "Yeah, man!"

Luke sighs as the guys all ripped into Jack, downing the last of his beer and grabbing his phone off the bar top.

"Fuck this, I'm going to see Y/N."

"Ohh, you're girlfriend!?" And just like that Luke knows...he knows he's not out of the woods, it's just that the woods have changed from teasing and taunting him about hook ups, to doing so about his girlfriend.

Fuck, he hates being a younger brother.

[qrrieterisunnq]

Am I Really Enough? - Luke Hughes

masterlist | wip's

— WARNINGS: Hateful comments, grammar errors — SUMMARY: Luke wants you to know how much he adores you and that he doesn’t care what others say about you on social media. — WORD COUNT: 1,5K

It had been going on for a few months. Firstly, you didn’t really pay attention to it, but lately, the comments get worse and worse and the TikTok’s got even more nastier that you somehow let them in your mind.

You tried to act like nothing was happening in front of everyone, but keeping put together was getting harder and harder.

It wasn’t until a few days back that Luke started to notice the changes in your behavior. It wasn’t anything big, but he could sense the distance you slowly put between each other.

It was the way you would check yourself in the mirror with a slight disgust on your face but would quickly mask it as soon as you saw him.

The way you would hide your body whenever you were with the other Devils’ or when you saw someone taking a photo of you.

Or the way he would notice dry tears on your cheeks after he got out of his shower after a late game.

He doesn’t know what is happening but needs to find out.

Today, he had an early morning practice, so he had to be really quiet because you were still sleeping. Normally, you’d be awake by the time preparing him a quick breakfast and snack, but your head was hurting yesterday, so that is why you were sleeping.

Right before he left, he looked at you to ensure you were still sleeping. He sat down beside you, slightly caressing your hair away from your face. With a soft smile, he kissed your forehead and with quiet ‘love you’ he left.

Jack was already waiting for him in front of your apartment building, so he threw his bag on the backseat and slid next to Jack.

“Morning,” Jack yawns from behind the steering wheel, forcing Luke to look at him.

“Morning. Tired?” Luke’s eyes wander around Jack’s face, noticing the dark bags under his eyes.

“Yeah, Florence didn’t sleep too much during the night. it’s the time her teeth start to grow.” he sighed running his hand down his face as he groaned.

“We can always look after her on the weekend so you two get some sleep,” Luke offered with a small smile gazing at his lips. Maybe it would brighten your mood.

“Yeah, but you know, Sunny, she wants to spend as much time with her as possible.” He sighed and pulled out from the parking lot toward the Prudential.

“I know, just saying. You two could use some time alone.”

“Yeah. Tell me about it,” Jack sent him a smile and stopped at red. “Anyway, how is Y/n?” 

“Ugh, I am not sure. She’s been acting weird lately,” Luke sighed this time it’s him who runs his hands down his face. “She’s been distant and just not herself.”

“Hey there lover boys!” Jesper shouted as soon as he caught a glimpse of Luke and Jack.

“Hello, Swedish man!” Jack grinned at him and fist-bumped him on the way inside the locker room.

“Hi, Bratter,” Luke smirked ruffling the shorter guy’s hair.

Jesper swatted the hand away with an annoyed huff and kicked Luke in the shin.

“You look tired man. Flo giving you a hard time?” Nico chuckled when he noticed the black bags under Jack’s eyes.

“Yeah, her teeth are growing,” He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face yet again. “She lets up sleep only three hours a day, so it’s tiring.”

“I got it. If you want to, you can't take a few days off or always bring her to me I’ll gladly look after her.” Nico offered, and Jack had to smile. He is so grateful for you all. “Hey there Lukey!” Nico waved at the younger Hughes as soon as he saw him.

“Hello, Captain,” Luke grinned at him. “Ready for practice?”

“The hell I am." he grinned but remembered he needed to talk to him. "Anyway, I need to talk to you after, do you have time?” Nico says more seriously, causing Luke to swallow hard and nod his head.

“Uhm. Yeah sure.” He swallowed again, and the smile on his face vanished away.

“Move your asses guys!” Coach Sheldon yells inside the locker room, startling most of the guys.

“You wanted to talk to me?” Luke sat down next to Nico after he got out of the shower, the towel wrapped tightly around his waist.

Nico nodded and handed him his phone, which was playing some TikTok with you and Luke. Luke watched it with furrowed eyes because he didn’t know what he was supposed to looking for.

“Look at the comments.”

Luke opened the comments, and his jaw dropped. He knew people were cruel on social media, but he had no idea they were this cruel.

“And that is not the only one. Do you remember when Y/n posted the photo of you and her on New Year's,” Nico asked and took his phone back.

“Yeah, what with that? I didn’t see any ugly comments.” Luke looked at Nico with raised eyebrows, not catching up.

“That’s because y/n deleted them.” Nico sighed and for the second time handed Luke his phone with screenshots of the comments.

I don’t know what he sees in her, but he could do better.

You should put down some weight

Don’t you feel a bit out of place when you’re with his friends?

Do you ever feel embarrassed standing next to him? I mean, people must wonder why he settled.

Luke swiped through the screenshots, tears forming in his eyes as he read through them.

“Oh, my fucking shit.” Luke breathed out as he finally realized, why were you acting so off for the past few weeks.

“Yeah, I noticed that y/n was acting off, so I just wanted to show you.”

“Thanks, man,” Luke nodded, appreciation clear in his voice even though Nico could hear the tears. “I um, I need to go.”

Luke quickly changed into his clothes and rushed out of the arena. He probably broke most of the road rules, but he didn’t care, he just needed to talk to you, to make sure you know how beautiful you are no matter what.

Luke barges into your apartment like there is some murderer inside the building startling the shit out of you.

“Jesus Christe Luke! What the fuck?” you yelped out, your hand hovering over your heart.

“Is it true?” he panted out, dropping the bag from his shoulder on the floor, his voice full of hurt.

You straightened your spine, not knowing what he was talking about. Or more like being afraid of what he’s talking about.

“What are you talking about?” your voice is a little bit shaky from the fear that he knows. He knows all about what is going on in her head.

“You know what I am talking about,” He breathed out, slowly approaching her. His heart was beating fast from the number of steps he ran up, just because he didn’t want to wait for the elevator. “The comments, the videos,” he dropped down on his knees before you, his hands flying to your knees. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You shook your head in denial.

“Y/n, I love you the way you are. And it pains me to see that I’m not showing you enough how much I love you,” Luke sighed and took your hands in his in a reassuring move. “And I promise you that I will try harder from now.”

“No, no, Luke, it’s not your fault!” you rushed out, shaking your head hurriedly. “You make me loved so much, but it’s me. The comments and videos make me feel like I should do something with myself.”

“Hey baby, look at me,” he shook your hands to get your attention back on him when he noticed you drifting away. “You have nothing to change, just because someone said in comments. You are gorgeous the way you are. But if you really want to, then I will support you, you know that.”

“So you think I am fat. I knew it.” You sniffed, the tears you’ve held back now falling over the edges.

“Hey, hey. I didn’t say anything like that, y/n, and you know that!” Luke sighed and stood up, only to sit down next to you and pull you in a tight hug.  

“You know I love you the way you are, and I would never change anything about you,” Luke whispered, his lips pressed against your temple, rocking you side to side. “I love you so fucking much, baby. But if you don’t feel comfortable in your body, I will support you if you want to start going to the gym.”

“I am sorry.” You sobbed out, clutching Luke's biceps tightly. “I ju-just don’t want you to re-realize that maybe one day you’ll need s-someone more o-on your le-level.”

“Hey! You are way on a higher level than me, baby, and you know that.” He grasps your face in his palms, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t fucking care what the people say about you in comments, and you too shouldn’t, because they are just pathetic excuses of people, okay.” He didn’t let go until you understood that you were gorgeous. That day, you spent cuddling on the couch, watching Supernatural’s and him whispering in your ear how beautiful you are and how fucking lucky he was to get you as a girlfriend.