#this is such an obvious simplistic one but I had to make it

[kaialone]

[p4ranormaluv]

INSIDE YOUR MIND — 희승

PAIRING: stalker!heeseung x therapist!reader

GENRE: smut (mdni), angst?

CONTENTS: non-con, f!reader, heeseung rides a motorcycle (brief concept), talk of childhood abuse/ptsd, mentioned past death, house invasion, brief mention of voye.urism, rope restraint, praise?, one pus.sy slap, petnames, very rough treatment/s.ex, oral, finger.ing, mention of blood, hair pulling, threats, choking at the end, creampie, squirt.ing

WC: 4.7k

NOTES: read at your own risk!

COPYRIGHT OF @/P4RANORMALUV. PLAGIARISM NOT TOLERATED.

when heeseung filled out his patient form and you had your first therapy session with him, your first impression of him was ‘boyish’.

he has a charming smile that you’re sure makes most women’s hearts race, but you couldn’t help but notice the melancholy vulnerability in his eyes— or the way he even laughed. but you probably wouldn’t have those thoughts if you hadn’t already read his papers: childhood trauma and neglect, deceased parents (unnatural death), and diagnosed ptsd.

“just write whatever comes to your mind. it doesn’t have to be anything profound.” you said as you handed heeseung a new journal with crisp white pages. “treat it like your best friend, tell it anything you want.”

“uh, okay.” heeseung laughed, a little awkwardly as that adorable smile came across his lips, scratching the back of his neck. “thanks, doctor y/n.”

as your sessions continue to progress, heeseung seems to become more comfortable, even growing an attachment to the journal. you find he’s always carrying it by his side or in his black backpack. likewise, he seems to be growing more fond of you as well.

“i like you…you’re nice.” heeseung whispers suddenly, completely off subject of what you’re talking about.

you blanch in your seat, the leather squeaking beneath you as you adjust your position and stare at him a tad uncomfortably.

your posture is very straight and professional, completely opposite to the man who sits on the small couch across from you, legs spread and body language relaxed as he stares at you.

you have a feeling there's a deeper meaning behind his simplistic words, you just can’t seem to decipher them— even as you take a moment too long to look at heeseung’s expression. the mask he wears over his emotions is much thinner than when he first walked into your office, now sheer like a veil. but still, you just can’t quite identify it. heeseung seems to be a particularly complex patient.

“why do you think i’m nice, heeseung?” you smile, trying to come off as relaxed and casual as he is, to keep him in this malleable state. but really you’re preparing to remember everything he says— so you can write them down in your session notes during a moment when it’s not too obvious. (you try not to make your patients feel like lab rats or some creature you're studying.)

“you’re just…really caring— and kind. like..i can tell you actually give a fuck. you’ve never ignored me or not listened.”

you can’t help but laugh, trying to contain the noise and bite down your smile.

you’re quite literally payed to listen, but it is unfortunately true that there’s many therapists that don’t genuinely listen to their patients. and heeseung isn't wrong, you do genuinely care about him.

“of course i’m not going to ignore you, sweetheart.”

at the pet name, heeseung’s eyes grow wide— and so do yours, the words that just came from your mouth hitting you as you lightly gasp.

“oh, i’m— i’m so sorry, heeseung. it just slipped out.”

heeseung just nods, eyes bambi-like as they remain wider than usual, bottom lip sucked into his mouth as he bites down, continuing to stare at you. it oddly makes you squirm— his eye contact. so you look down at your notebook instead, eventually able to organize your scrambled thoughts enough to actually absorb the notes you’re pretending to stare at.

“do you think perhaps you like women who remind you of your mother?”

“…no,” heeseung all but growls.

you jolt in your seat at the completely foreign tone coming from the man, snapping your head to his direction.

his teeth are clenched firmly, making the contours of his jawline more pronounced. his previously almost doe-like eyes are now hardened and sharp enough to pierce.

it’s sends a chill up your spine— but it’s also…strangely attractive.

you’re surprised at your own thought, disturbed by it as you push it to the back of your mind.

“i hate anyone who reminds me of her.” he adds darkly.

“…alright.” you respond quietly, heeseung’s hawk-like eyes now watching how you quickly scribble something in your notebook. “maybe now’s not the time to touch on that. what else do you like?”

“oh, um….” heeseung hesitates, the question clearly catching him off guard. “music, movies, video games, motorcycles—“

“motorcycles?” you ask, a clear spark of curiosity in your tone that heeseung doesn’t miss. “i’ve always wanted one.”

“yeah! it’s a yamaha r6. i got interested in motorcycles as a kid, used to fix old ones up with my dad.”

‘avoids grieving parents death with anger?’ you quickly jot down. ‘but holds onto the past of his childhood as a way to feel connected to parents?’

the fast drawl of your pen echos in the otherwise quiet room, heeseung watching your smooth legs move from crossed to uncrossed in your pencil skirt.

“that sounds amazing, heeseung! what about movies, what genres are you interested in?”

“oh, mostly horror…slashers. that kind of stuff.”

“anything else?” you ask easily, though you take mental note of the things he’s listed with minor alarm. of course it’s not wrong or an automatic concern if someone is interested in these things, but in your line of work you can’t overlook anything.

“…disney.” he answers, his somewhat thoughtful yet blank expression shifting into that charming grin. “dramas sometimes.”

“what was your taste in movies as a child?”

“the same.” he answers easily. “my parents didn’t really care what i did. if they were watching something r rated and i walked in they wouldn’t turn it off. they wouldn’t even tell me to get out of the room.”

“how did that affect you?”

heeseung’s face falls. it’s minutely, but you certainly don’t miss it. you’ve figured out that heeseung often pulls this expression when talking about his childhood, the things that haunt him still. but he hasn’t admitted that yet— even to himself you think. and it’s too soon to push right now, so you choose not to point it out.

“i knew about everything…by 9 years old i knew all about sex, drugs, murder…everything.”

somewhere along your conversation heeseung’s eyes have turned black, pupils staring so still at you that they almost look dead. and the longer they stay on you, the stronger an air of fear brushes coldly up your spine— like you should be afraid.

you don’t know why. heeseung has never shown any signs of violence or anger issues, nor is that listed in his patient form. it must be the anxiety that simply comes with the job of being a therapist. that’s what you tell yourself as you feel the paranoia ghost its hands across your shoulders as you sink into the unknown behind heeseung’s eyes, succumbing to your morbid curiosity of what awful memories he must have to turn his honey brown orbs black with emotion, or lack of.

and just like that— like the owner has just returned home and turned back on the lights, heeseung’s eyes get that sparkle in them again as he smiles, voice deep yet pleasant as he speaks.

“i don’t think it’s affected me though.”

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

rain drums against the roof of the clinic, fluorescent lights above you beaming even brighter as darkness has fallen outside.

you glance at the time on your watch, seeing that it’s nearing 8:30.

you chose to stay late to try and organize your messy desk and patient files, which are becoming an inconvenience with how poorly you previously organized them. you’ve made some good progress, but even though you’re not finished, you gather your things and slip back on your heels to exit the building. the rain is pouring down much harder than you thought when you step outside, immediately scurrying back underneath the protection of the clinic’s overhanging roof to shield yourself from getting completely drenched.

you let out a frustrated sigh as you look out into the darkness, a few dim, flickering street lamps your only source light.

you’re about to pull out your phone and call a cab when you hear the growl of a motorcycle, it’s crescent shaped headlights appearing in front of you a moment later.

the man gets off and leans against the bike, removing his helmet and combing his fingers through his tousled hair.

it’s too dark to see, but when he turns his face at a certain angle, the street lights hitting his features just right, you’re able to recognize him.

“heeseung?” you call out amidst the pounding rain, a rumble of thunder almost punctuating his name after you say it.

heeseung glances at you before quickly jogging over, leaving his bike parked on the street as he joins you beneath the roof’s shelter.

“hey, y/n! what are you doing here so late?”

“i stayed overtime.” you explain, voice still a little raised so he can hear you over the heavy downpour. “what are you doing here?”

confusion is laced in your tone, wondering why heeseung would stop right in front of the clinic when he wasn’t even scheduled to see you today— much less after hours.

heeseung smirks, wordlessly pointing to the convenience store across the street.

“oh,” you blush, embarrassed at how you stupidly assumed he was here for you.

“late night drive. i was gonna grab some snacks. but now that i’m here, let me drive you home.”

“w— what? no! i…i can call a cab.”

“it’s late, y/n. it’s not safe getting a ride by yourself at this time of night.” heeseung argues, and you do agree. you usually don’t take cabs when it’s dark and no one else is with you. but…

“it’s unprofessional…” you confess hesitantly. “you're my patient.”

heeseung somewhat cocky expression doesn’t change, eyes making you feel small in a disturbingly good way as he looks down at you. he must be able to sense your lack of conviction, because he’s taking off his backpack to remove his leather jacket and guide your arms through the large arm holes. it rests against you heavily, way too big for your frame, but it makes you feel a little warmer as it shields you from the rain.

“come on, y/n.” he says with finality after asking you to put on his backpack as well, so you can ride on the back of his motorcycle properly.

you squeak when he suddenly lifts you up like you weigh nothing and sits you on the seat, heeseung chuckling at the sound. your cheeks only burn more.

heeseung puts on his helmet before getting on the bike himself, turning to look back at you.

“hold on tight, okay? don’t let go.” he orders, grabbing your hands to wrap them around his torso and pulling you flush against him.

you try to ignore the fluttering you feel in places you definitely shouldn’t be feeling them as your chest presses into his strong, broad back. the thrum of his motorcycle comes to life, vibrations making your thighs clench and your arms tighten around his lithe waist. you only hope you can keep yourself together for the whole ride, and that the heavy rain is enough to cover up the view of the clinic’s security cameras as heeseung drives the two of you off into the night.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

when heeseung brings you home you’re rushing to get off, your very inappropriate feelings only growing during the ride— and seeing him on his motorcycle in leather gloves and a helmet doesn’t help at all. especially with how hotly he puts back on his jacket that you hastily return to him, along with his backpack.

you give him a very quick thank you, wishing him a good night before running into your house and hoping he just thinks you're in a hurry to get out of the rain.

you’re ashamed, mentally scolding yourself as you try not to slip and fall in your heels. heeseung is completely innocent in this situation, it’s you who’s the problem. you’re the one getting all hot and bothered when he was just trying to be a decent guy and give you a ride home. he can’t help if he’s hot and attractive and the growl of his motorcycle made the heartbeat between your legs worse.

god, are you that desperate? you must really need to get out of the house more and get laid.

shutting the front door behind you, you toe off your slippery wet heels, leaving them messily by the door before going to your bedroom to take off your drenched clothes and change into more comfortable attire.

you simply put on some underwear and a baby tee, nothing underneath, before going downstairs to make yourself something to eat. your plan for the night is to have dinner, maybe…relieve yourself— and then go to sleep.

the slightly obnoxious yellow tint of your motion sensor light at your front door remains on, shining through the door’s window and casting the entryway in an unpleasant glow. so you walk over and flip the switch off.

“oh…” you whisper, accidentally putting yourself in complete darkness as you realize you didn’t turn on any lights in your hurry to take off your wet clothes from earlier.

blindly sliding your hands across the wall, you try to find the light switch for your kitchen when you trip over something, sending you to fall on the hardwood floor.

“fuck, what the hell?” you say to yourself, annoyed as you try to untangle your foot from whatever you can feel wrapped around it. you have a thought to pull out your phone and use the flashlight, but you left your phone upstairs. you guess that’s what happens when you don’t wear pants and thus curse yourself to have no pockets.

it’s a struggle when you can’t see, but you eventually free yourself and stand up, taking careful steps forward until you meet another wall. your hands finally brush over a light switch and you flip it on, your kitchen illuminating a second later.

…it’s a black backpack.

you almost don’t spot it as it sits in the shadows, but as you step closer, you’re sure now. what you tripped over looks just like heeseung’s backpack, its contents spilling out from the inside thanks to you tripping over it and getting the strap wrapped around your foot.

any doubt of the bag actually belonging to the man vanishes when you see the notebook sitting atop all the rest of the clutter, its cream cover slightly browned and scuffed— probably due to him carrying it wherever he goes.

your brows furrow in confusion as you crouch to your knees. you could have sworn you took off the backpack and handed it to heeseung, but in your hurry to escape you must have forgotten to?

moving to pick up the random items that are scattered on the floor and put it back inside the bag (a package of gum, a couple pens, a pocket knife), the notebook is jostled and slides across the floor, its pages falling open.

you move to grab it, still on your knees as you loom above the notebook. you really do try not to look at the words on the paper— but it’s filled with them, every page packed with as many as heeseung could fit on the page. you’re unable to look away.

what’s written…isn’t what you were expecting— or, you don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. page after page of diary logs, dated with the time, all describing…watching someone. what starts out as cute sentiments turn more predatory and carnal as the days go by.

your heart stops when you get to the most recent entry.

its labeled with today's date.

‘you’re always so coy, doctor. sometimes i think i know exactly what you’re thinking, and then you react in a way i don’t expect.

it’s driving me a little crazy wondering what’s going on in your head. it makes me want to crack it open...god, see what you do to me, baby? you’re making me sick in the head. it’s all your fault.

but i don’t want to stop. i want to keep going. i want to hear you beg for more until you’re begging me to stop.

i have a feeling you’ll like it.’

you jump at how hard you slam the journal shut, goosebumps all over your flesh as heat encompasses your face. but it’s not from arousal— it’s fear.

your mind flashes memories too fast for you to keep up with. all your sessions, all those little moments you thought were your own misunderstandings— were they premeditated? did he plan this all along?

wait— when heeseung picked you up….you didn’t even tell him your address. you were so distracted that you didn’t even think to tell him where you live.

and he didn’t need it. he drove you right to your house immediately, like he’s drove that route a hundred times…

you feel the sudden urge to throw up but you suppress it, getting up from the floor to run upstairs and get your phone—

but you run right into the hard chest of someone instead, their strong arms wrapping around your body tightly. you’re horrified, because even without looking you know exactly who it is.

“heeseung?”

“aw, don’t cry, baby. surely you knew this was coming?” heeseung coos, the comforting quality he tries to portray in his voice only making you feel like you’re going to gag. his thumb brushes over your cheek, attempting to wipe a tear away, but they only continue to roll down more rapidly at his touch.

walking you backwards, heeseung shuffles the two of you over to his backpack that still lays sprawled out on the floor.

grabbing your wrists, he turns you around and joins them together behind your back. you turn your head, watching as he bends down and pulls out the pocket knife you noticed earlier. then he reaches in deeper, rustling around until he pulls out a small coil of rope that you evidently missed.

you don’t even try to hold down the sob that rips out of your mouth, almost beginning to hyperventilate as you struggle to accept that this is happening to you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“heeseung, please.” you cry, looking up at him despite your vision blurred by tears. “you don’t have to do this.”

“it’s just a precaution, y/n.” the man reasons easily, and you can tell by his assured voice that he doesn’t see how incredibly horrible this is— demented. he’s about to commit a tragedy to you, and he doesn’t even get it.

“besides.” he whispers against the back of your neck as he ties the rope around your wrists, tight enough to chafe. “i’ve seen the stuff you watch. i know you like being tied up.”

your throat quivers, brain too much of a mess to even process that he’s just confessed to secretly watching you look at porn and masturbating at some point. shaking your head desperately, your eyes squeeze shut in anguish as pleading words tumble out of your mouth. “no, no. not like this— not like this, heeseung. please!”

“be quiet,” he warns between gritted teeth, leaning over you to make sure you see his face. “drop the act, y/n.”

you hear the click of his pocket knife opening, heeseung raising the blade to cut the excess rope off from the tight knot he’s made. once he’s finished he pushes you by your restraint to the kitchen table, roughly pressing you over it. you suddenly wish you had chosen to wear pants, at least then it would take him a bit longer to expose you.

the sound of ripping fabric and your whimpered cries are the only thing that’s heard as heeseung cuts your t-shirt right down the middle, yanking the article off of you.

you don’t move— other than your uncontrollable trembling as you stay bent over the table, too scared and weak from emotions to try and run away.

heeseung is taking off his pants— you recognize the unmistakable sound of his zipper being pulled down, but you can’t bear to look. you keep your cheek pressed to the cold wood of the table, eyes staring unfocused at nothing.

“be the good girl i know you are, baby.” heeseung says, arousal evident in his tone. “i bet you're soaking your little panties, hm?”

you feel his fingers press firmly against your clothed clit, rubbing up and down just slightly too hard. you whimper, attempting to get rid of his touch by squeezing your legs shut. it’s futile of course, and only proves to anger heeseung. he growls and pries your legs open with his strong hands, slapping your pussy hard enough that it has you letting out a yelped scream.

“i don’t want to, y/n, but if i have to hurt you i will.”

heeseung gets on his knees to be eye level with your cunt, leaning forward and ghosting his teeth over your thinly covered lips. your breath comes out trembled and the man groans. you’re not sure if the action is a threat or a promise, but you really don’t want to find out.

a slow stripe is abruptly being licked up your pussy, catching you off guard as you start to close your legs again on instinct— but luckily you stop yourself in time before you piss off heeseung even more.

you decide in this moment you need to actually listen to at least a part of heeseung’s words— be a good girl, then maybe you can manage to make it out of this.

heeseung’s wet mouth is suctioned to your clothed cunt, sucking and drooling all over you as he teases himself with the faint taste of your slick that you can’t control is becoming more apparent. heeseung’s eager tongue and shameless mouth work on your clit, nose nudging at your entrance as he moans and sighs his hot breath all over your pussy.

finally he’s pulling off your panties with his teeth, groaning when he’s blessed with the sight or your glistening cunt.

“shit. such a perfect pussy.” he marvels, running two fingers between your lips, causing you to flinch and squirm against the rope. you clench your jaw until it aches, wanting so badly to beg him to stop, but you’re too afraid to, not when his sharp teeth are so close to the most sensitive part of your body. heeseung takes his now thoroughly slicked up fingers to circle them around your hole, leaning down to take your cunt in his mouth.

his drawn out, guttural groan has you clenching as shame burns your face, a whimper releasing from your mouth as heeseung starts to suckle at your clit and prod you with his tongue. one finger dips just the fingertip inside you before removing it to massage over your entrance again, applying a bit more pressure.

your body starts to react in ways you can’t control and you pray heeseung doesn’t notice, but you’re pretty sure he does— because when you feel your hole clench again he’s moaning out, sucking and licking your pussy with more vigor as he pushes his entire finger inside your entrance.

your moan comes out forcefully as you try your best to swallow it down, sounding almost pained as heeseung starts moving his finger inside of you.

“fuck, you’re so warm inside, sweetheart.” heeseung mutters, attaching right back onto your pussy after.

his second finger is shoved inside way too suddenly, turning harsh as his appendages fuck in and out of you in a way that makes it feel like you’re going to bruise from the inside.

“ah— ow, heeseung. please.” you beg, face pinching in pain. “it hurts.”

“you’re mine to explore, baby. wanna touch all of you. just bare it.”

tears spring in your eyes at his callous, selfish words. heeseung continues his merciless treatment before disconnecting from your cunt to watch how your hole takes him.

he spits on it, making you simmer in humiliation before cold panic washes over your body as you feel a third finger prodding the outside of your entrance.

“no, no. hee— heeseungie, can’t.”

“shhh, don’t worry, baby. just need to stretch you out for my cock, yeah? that’ll be the good part for you, me fucking this tight little pussy.”

three fingers now delve in and out of your hole, and to make it all worse, heeseung is curving his fingers just right— making you feel confused from the mix of pain and pleasure as you feel your pussy drip against your will.

heeseung laughs, seeming to have caught sight of it. “i knew you had to be a whore. who else would wear such tight, short skirts to work?”

you sob as you feel yourself clench around his fingers, thick and burning as they stretch out your ring.

“just walking around with a nasty little cunt that’s dying to be split open, huh? don’t worry, baby. i know what you want. i’ll give it to you real good.”

all too quickly for your brain to wrap around, heeseung pulls his fingers out and your pussy is being stuffed to the absolute brim with his fat cock. the length and girth is way too much— way more than you could have ever imagined.

you cry out like a wild animal as heeseung starts pounding into your pussy mercilessly, forcing you to take it. you’re pretty sure your wrists are going to start bleeding with how much you pull against the rope, but that’s the least of your concerns.

“oh fuck, hee— heeseung!”

it takes you a moment to realize that’s your voice, your cries sounding more like sounds of…arousal.

and you start to question yourself, why do you sound so turned on, like a porn star getting dicked down— when you feel so scared?

“shit— disgusting slut. such a dirty pussy. you deserve to get fucked until you’re raw and ruined.”

you moan. you’re sure you hear it. and it only makes heeseung go rougher, balls slapping against your wet skin that your juices run down from. the zipper and button of heeseungs pants that aren’t even fully pulled down bruise into your skin with every unforgiving thrust, the man literally not holding an ounce of his power back as he fucks you as hard as he can.

his fat cock forces you to submit, for your cunt to take all of it.

your body starts to convulse in the overwhelming sensations of pleasure and fear, your moans starting to crack from your overused throat.

“fuck— fuck!”

“i could get you fired.” heeseung grits between bared teeth, hands squeezing into the flesh of your hips, wanting to leave a bruise behind each finger. “i could tell them that you tried to come onto me during an appointment, that you coerced me. they’d probably get rid of you just for the accusation alone.”

heeseung wraps an aggressive hand around your throat, squeezing and cutting off your airway as his other hand yanks mercilessly at your hair, lifting your head off the table.

“so be a good slut and let me fuck and abuse this pussy whenever i want, yeah?”

your mouth stretches open, an almost silent rasp the only thing coming out from your lack of oxygen as your eyes roll back and you're squirting all over his fat cock.

you feel like you’re dying and exiting your body, the white of your eyes surely showing as you feel pain in the back of your head. fluids rush down your legs and heeseung’s pelvis as his hot load taints the inside of your walls forever.

“we’re not so different, yeah?” heeseung sounds totally unhinged, voice cracked and breathy. “you like to look inside people's minds, y/n. and i want to be inside your guts.”

heeseung finally releases your hair and neck, but his cock never stops impaling your cunt over and over, his over production of cum leaking out of your reddened hole to drip onto the floor, joining the rest of your fluids. you choke around your spit, desperately trying to get just a single breath of air. you have a horrible, dark, heavy pit inside your stomach— one that makes you feel like you’ll be stuck here forever. with heeseung’s cock buried deep inside your assaulted womb.

NOTE: this a nod to ‘inside your mind’ by the 1975, btw. honestly i really hate this…but oh well, at least i persevered?? first and last time writing straight up non-con tho lol.

[erinelliotc]

A few years ago I used to be that annoying "transmasc lesbians don't exist, this shit is harmful and invalidates both transmascs and lesbians" person, and now I'M the transmasc lesbian. Seems like the tables have turned, huh?

I've spent so many months, years, trying so hard to fit into these categories that I saw so many people talk about as if it were the definitive truth, and this shallow and simplistic vision seems to be gaining a lot of attention and traction here in Brazil. Isn't it ironic to free yourself from cisnormativity and heteronormativity and all these binary boxes to find yourself again trying to fit into other boxes and norms that don't actually describe your experience correctly? Because your experience with gender is so chaotic and confusing (as expected of a nonbinary identity, and even more so if you're neurodivergent too) that there's no simple way to describe it. Then when you find out what describes this, people say you can't identify yourself that way because two or more of your identities are "incompatible". I see people treating non-binarity as if it were an exact science, as if it were math, as if it were something simple and logical, as it is precisely the escape from what has been established in our society as the only two possible options, generating countless identities within a gray area outside this black and white vision, so of course it's something complex, abstract and subjective.

EDIT: One of my reasons for thinking this way was that I ignored that the transgender experience and the cisgender experience aren't and will never be equivalent. It's obvious that a cis man can't be a lesbian, but the same doesn't go for transmasc people, and I thought that admitting that was the same as being transphobic, denying the masculinity of transmascs, denying their male identity. I already had a debate on Twitter because people didn't want to admit that trans men and transmasc people in general can suffer misogyny and male chauvinism (as society can still see and treat us as women) because they also saw it as the same as saying transmasc people are women. The identity of trans people is a very complex experience that involves a series of factors that cis people will never experience. We cannot equate the trans experience with the cis experience.

I thought identifying as a butch lesbian was enough to describe my masculinity, but I realized that I felt like it didn't encompass everything I felt, I still felt like something was missing. Preventing and depriving myself of identifying with more explicit masculine identities was actually making me feel bad and dysphoric. So yeah, I've been avoiding identifying with male-aligned identities because I thought that would mean having to stop identifying as a lesbian, and I didn't want that, and I don't really feel like calling myself straight makes any sense.

I have a text in Portuguese talking about my experience as a butch lesbian, and I feel that now it also serves to describe my experience as a nonbinary transmasc (the part where I talk about not identifying with "traditional masculinity", but with a "different type", like "soft masculinity", is directly related to the fact that, in addition to being nonbinary, I don't identify as a man, I don't feel comfortable with the term "man", but rather with "boy"). I spent a few months wondering whether I was libramasculine or boyflux, and I ended up deciding that if I can't identify which one I am, maybe it makes more sense to just adopt both identities, maybe I am both then! I'm tired of trying to fit into supposed rules about being nonbinary. This is exactly how non-binarity shouldn't be. I'm supposed to feel free, not trapped again. My identity is my identity and that's nobody's business.

[maxdibert]

Reducing Snape to a creepy man obsessed with a woman who didn’t love him is rather puerile, simplistic, and childish. Lily represents the only good part of his childhood, the only happy memories he had amidst all the violence he endured for years. It’s probably the only good thing that ever happened to him, and there comes a point where he feels partially responsible for her death, given that it was he who relayed the prophecy to Voldemort. It’s this sense of guilt that drives him to try and make amends by dedicating his life to Dumbledore’s service, not some dark and twisted obsession. There is a considerable difference between being a bloody pervert obsessed with someone, and being someone with a tremendous burden of guilt, obsessed with avenging someone’s death and, in doing so, clearing his conscience for the role he played in that death. I don’t know, I think it’s pretty obvious—one doesn’t need that many neural connections to reach such a simple conclusion.

[ohsalome]

the intention of comparing the reaction to Palestine vs Ukraine is typically not to criticize Ukrainian victims of war. The criticism is directed at American spectators, because the people in power here are insanely anti Palestinian but have made overtures to help Ukraines resistance efforts despite comparable situations. Regular citizens also mostly support Ukraine but many hate Palestinians. People are just comparing palestine to Ukraine as a point of reference to try to make those people understand.

As kindly as possible, I do not think you can educate people out of islamophobia by appealing to their conscience, at the very least because if they had one they wouldn't be islamophobic in the first place.

And when it comes to people in power, appealing to their empathy in the case with Palestine is fruitless because the help Ukraine got wasn't motivated by emotion either. I do not expect you to know the history of current russo-ukrainian war well, so you probably don't know that the western world was perfectly happy to watch russia roll all over us punishment-free as long as they felt that other "properly european countries" won't be involved. Russia has been butchering us since 2014, and nobody gave a fuck about it. Even during the first few weeks of the full-scale invasion NATO refused to send us any military help, because they expected us to fall and were okay with it.

The current support we have did not fall on us from the sky by the graceful kindness of "our american overlords" - it is a consequence of the cumulative effort of our diplomats, pre-existing agreements with NATO countries, and the economical ripples the full-scale war caused (Ukraine being one of the major world exporters of grain being one of the most relevant).

This is why, sadly Palestine cannot follow the Ukrainian scenario of foreign support. The surrounding circumstances of both of our wars are way to different, and while it is easy to ignore them while making simplistic quick-dopamine-hit posts on hellbr dot com, they do influence the real-world situation on the ground. Which is what posts like the one I replied to do - they create a no-nuance misinformed image of the war in Ukraine. Which amplifies the problem even more, because even though "most americans" can agree on a generic "war in Ukraine bad", their idea of what is going on here is hugely misinformed as it is. And this has harmful real-life consequences on which our very survival depends.

Look. I understand that the war between Palestine and Israel has been going on for decades. I understand that there are many contexts that are obvious to the people in the respective countries that I am oblivious to by the virtue of never being there and not speaking arabic nor hebrew. I understand that there is a lot of propaganda that I may accidentally spread out of my ignorance, and therefore I try to be careful to avoid doing so, out of respect to the people living there. So why is it too much to ask you to give the same respect to us?

Like I have said before, the biggest issue with that infographic post is that it spreads misinformation. In the simplest of terms, misinformation is bad. People are trying to do any smallest thing to help Palestinians - who are currently barely surviving in inhumanely horrifying conditions - and out of ignorance they are spreading anti-ukrainian propaganda. Downplaying the number of ukrainian victims (and, as a result, making russian war crimes look "not as bad") is anti-ukrainian propaganda. Making it seem as we are getting "too much american help" is anti-ukrainian propaganda, because USA is our biggest military exporter, and getting less ammo/vehicles/etc will have catastrophic effect on the amount of death.

Which is why am not staying silent on this, even if your collective intentions are noble and good. Because, I will repeat myself again, your intentions do not matter if the consequences of your actions are harmful. And if (a) comparing Ukraine and Palestine is uneffective; (b) it portrays your ignorance of either one or both of the wars; and (c) simultaneously with spreading support for the palestinian cause you are spreading harmful anti-ukrainian pro-russian propaganda, I do not think it is too much to ask you to stop.

[epicfroggz]

One thing that annoys me is that some people try to reduce the complex dynamic between Messmer and Marika as some wholesome purely loving relationship?? Especially when there are takes that Messmer wasn't cursing Marika in his dying breath and was saying he became a curse upon her? Like even in the og Japanese version he did curse her in the most obvious - simplistic way there is no ambiguity in it . Or that he was "demonically possessed" by the abyssal serpent and that it was the one cursing Marika lmfaoo.

Sorry about this small rant 😭 i just really want people other than me ( i feel alone on this somehow) to appreciate the relationship between Marika and Messmer for its complexity and tragedia. She abandoned him and he ended up cursing her instead of the person who killed him. Which is beautifully tragic you know... Better than the one-dimensional uwu wholesome dynamic

Yeah, I agree!

The relationship between Marika and Messmer is incredibly complex, nuanced, and dynamic—the Marika that birthed a cursed son alone and cared for him deeply and completely is not the same Marika that told all her demigod children to fuck off should they not become gods or Lords. Neither is the Messmer that committed a genocide for his mother’s sake the same as the exhausted Messmer that we end up fighting. There is evidence that she loved him, the Blessings of Marika for example, just as there is evidence that she feared him, and that fear won out over love. Just the same, it is obvious that Messmer loved her, and it is obvious this love for her had limits, limits he reached:

That after an “eternity of suffering” with no sign of her, she would think to elevate a lightless Tarnished to lordship, when he himself was abandoned and hated and betrayed and hurt over being a vile lightless creature himself. After everything he’s done for her… Marika, a curse upon thee.

That is not to say I don’t appreciate the efforts of folks who just want them to be happy, though. Gentle, wholesome moments between mother and son make my heart full, and I love them. Just as there is no darkness without light, there can be no angst without a period of happiness to ruin first. </3

- Froggo

[livvidaloca]

what!? liv made human designs for the watterson family again!? yes, she did, and here’s her train of thought for these under the cut:

so, these are actually for my fic that i’m writing on ao3 in which gumball finds himself transported to another universe in which everyone is a human after the events of the inquisition. this is why there’s very few animal traits on any of them, or magically colored anime hair. i wanted them to look like people who could exist and walk around.

in this, nicole is blasian and richard is a white latino (with frankie being white non-latino and jojo being latina). (also these headcanons were based on a lot of convos with some of my friends back in the day, i don’t remember anyone’s reasonings for these but they’ve been true for so long in my brain) gumball and anais are mixed, and i tried to nod to gumball taking more after nicole and anais taking more after richard without making them carbon copies. and then darwin of course is black thats just canon

as for their designs themselves, i’ll start with nicole. i tried to make her look decently muscular (although the simplistic style i used doesn’t exactly show it off). her blue bandana and shoes are obviously a nod to her canon design, so she doesn’t look like an entirely different character. as for her hairstyle i looked into relatively low-maintenance styles, since she’s a busy woman! and her hair is starting to gray from all that STRESS!

richard’s design is the most straightforward, yet it took me the longest because i was never satisfied with how it was turning out. i’m still not sure if i’m crazy about it. all i know is that i was dead set on making him bald, since there’s literally a whole episode about that. I didn’t commit all the way because the design without any hair was making me lose my mind. i gave him some freckles as a nod to his whiskers because they’re a lot more prominent than nicole’s (which is why she doesn’t have any). this also translated to gumball’s design. also, how could i ignore the obvious choice and not give him pink bunny slippers!? it fits him so well!

gumball was fairly easy for me, because i kinda always have human designs for him in mind. i always give him those blue sneakers because duh, and i always give him dyed-blue hair that he visibly doesn’t maintain. i always had this human-version-only headcanon that gumball BEGGED to dye his hair for the longest time, and nicole finally allowed it on the condition that he’d keep up with it on his own. he didn’t. classic gumball

darwin’s design is also usually an easy one for me. big orange hoodie, green shorts and sneakers. this time i also made the decision to have his hair tied up to resemble his little fin. it’s not really visible with their clothes and stuff blocking the original sketch, but i also tried to make his legs a little bit lankier than gumball’s, just to make them appear longer like they are in the show.

as for anais, i always have trouble nailing the design without it looking like a completely different character. i cant dye her hair pink, because she’s supposed to be four, but i also can’t give her pink shoes, because she’s of course the only one who actually has shoes! then i remembered ribbons and my day was saved. still not sure if i’m completely sold on her design yet, though. i think she looks a little older than four.

anyways, i’m planning on doing other designs like these with other characters! let me know if you’re interested. as for that fic, here’s the link:

[gingerjolover]

You're Losing Me - Part 3

Warnings: RPF, angsty + sad, desperate!naomi, neglectful!naomi?, issues in relationship, fighting?

g's notes: surprise shawtayyyy - also sorry this is late, i went out drinking on sat and then was watching the SuperBowl (congrats to kylie kelce's husband's brother ig)

also barely edited but i will be going in tomorrow or the next day to redo allll of my tags, make a tags post, and edit my fics &lt;3

Naomi, sitting at the computer practically steaming with annoyance, is completely oblivious to you waiting outside. They feel stress regarding the fight, that much is obvious, but also a little bit of a sunk-cost fallacy regarding the work they need to get done. Plus, there's a small part of them that believes this will blow over quickly, maybe spending a night apart will be good for the two of you.

So they keep working, feeling a little bad about it, reflecting on how they could've controlled their anger, trying to convince themselves that the defeat in your eyes was nothing more than exhaustion. Slowly, Naomi starts to feel slight resentment, how could you just leave, yeah they agree that space is great but was it the most mature decision coming from you?

After a while, Naomi's resentment begins to simmer down, replaced with a mix of remorse and confusion for what just happened. They realize that they didn't even acknowledge you or your feelings and that it's too late to fix their mistake, wishing they could have extended even a sliver of patience with you.

"Dammit," they say quietly to themselves.

They take a deep breath and continue to work on their computer for a while, but their focus is beginning to fade. They start to feel like their work isn't as important as they are making it out to be; maybe it never has been, and they want to fix their relationship first.

Naomi goes to check your location, seeing that you're not even halfway to Jo and Kelli’s, and it confuses them. Didn’t you leave right after they went inside? Or were you waiting for them to come back out? Did something happen to you on your drive? It’s been over an hour since Naomi started working again. Worry sinks down in Naomi's stomach, settling like a rock.

Naomi wouldn't be able to live with themselves if something happened to you, so they don't even text Jo or Kelli and move to call you. Leaning against the doors of their office, the repetitive rings while they wait for you to answer, causing their heart rate to speed up, the nerves of the unknown and the potential ramifications of this coming-to-head boiling inside them.

Their mouth is a bit dry and they are struggling to control their breathing, wishing that you'd would just pick up the line.

“Yes, Naomi,” you answer deadpan, so unlike your usual sweet, bubbly, and loving greetings, your voice lacks emotion. Naomi cringes at the volume of your voice but can hear the sounds of the road beneath your tires and that you're using Bluetooth in your car.

How you answer the phone sets Naomi's heart racing just a bit more. They feel the guilt weighing on their chest again, like a heavy animal, giving no reprieve or time to get air into their lungs.

"Hey…" they say quietly, "…can we…umm…talk this out? Because this feels…"Naomi stutters, struggling to find the right words to say.

"…bad," they finally breathe out.

“This…feels— bad?” you ask, almost a little confused, tone still defeated and annoyed.

Naomi bites their lip as they hear your response, the confusion and annoyance in your voice evident at their simplistic answer.

They close their eyes and take a deep breath, trying to compose themselves.

"No, no, this isn't just bad…it's like, a train wreck," they finally say, starting to get slightly frustrated again. "This fight is...the biggest one we've had in, I don't know how long... maybe ever. We haven't even had a small one in forever. You and I are always on the same page."

There's a pregnant pause. Naomi can hear you breathing, the sounds of the road accompanying your deep breaths.

“Do you still love me?” you ask quietly, voice insecure and small.

Naomi feels like they just got punched in the mouth. The shock and hurt that pairs with the realization that this isn’t just a fight rocks Naomi to their core. Had their actions pushed you so far that you think this might be over? That Naomi might not love you anymore?

Naomi feels the air sucked out of their lungs, their skin feels like it’s on fire. You are everything. There’s nothing without you and nothing Naomi wouldn’t do for you. They want you to be their wife, the mother of their children (still undecided about that), and their life partner. Naomi never wants you to doubt their love for you and yet, here you are asking exactly that.

Naomi's heart shatters as your tone makes them realize how far this has gone.

"Yes, of course, I love you," they say, sounding a little angry and confused at how you could question that. "Why are you asking me that? How could you ask me that?"

Naomi feels their heart race at this moment, confused about how this suddenly turned so serious. How could you go from not wanting to talk to them to questioning the very nature of their love in an hour?

“But are you in love with me? Do you wanna still be with me?” You ask, voice shaky and a little crackly over the Bluetooth in you car.

"Yes!" Naomi says, their voice raised slightly. "W-what is going on right now?!" they ask. "Of course, I'm still in love with you! What the hell is this? Please let me know why you're thinking about these things." They pause for a moment, starting to feel a little bit hurt by your question.

There's another pregnant pause. Naomi can hear you stutter, like you want to say something but cant find the words. They can visualize it now, your jaw slack, eyes wide and doe-like, trying to find a way to communicate, and even after the devastating blow that was your questions, Naomi feels nothing but annoyance.

"I am not the one making this harder than it should be…" they mutter.

“Because of that! Why are you so angry with me all the time? Why can’t I spend 5 minutes with you when you’re not talking about MUNA or on your phone or computer? Why can Kelli and Jo go and do things? Why can Katie go on vacation? Why can't you and I do those things? Why are we struggling to be on the same page? What about me makes it so difficult for you to give me time when I’m telling you how I’m feeling?” you ask in a slight, passionate tone laced with hurt.

Naomi stops talking as you start going off, trying to process what you're saying.

You're speaking only facts, things Naomi had denied before but now realizes might actually be true. Naomi never intended for you to feel like this. Naomi has always preached about a work-life balance, never wanting to be blinded by the work they do, so much so that they forget how to be a good partner. And even though you're right, they feel caught off guard, feeling like you're angry at them for something that, at least in Naomi's mind, was done unintentionally.

"I…" they begin to say. "I…don't know."

“Is it me? Is something wrong with me?” you ask, Naomi’s heart cracking into a million pieces.

If there was a question that would shatter Naomi's heart right now, that was it.

"No, no no no! Nothing is wrong with you," they say quickly.

Their words seem to be doing little to soothe your feelings, and for a second, they realize that this "fight" might actually be the beginning of an end.

"It's not you…" they start to say. "I mean it's…it's…" they feel a lump in their throat as they start not knowing what to say anymore.

“If it’s not me, then I— I can’t understand why everyone gets your time but me,” you say, tone defeated and sad, voice so small and unsure of yourself, humiliated that you're allowing yourself to sound like this.

Naomi feels a tidal wave of guilt wash over them after hearing your voice, knowing it's killing you inside to feel so small and like you need to beg for attention. Naomi paces, suddenly feeling anxious at the realization that they are truly the villain, pushing you back into the feelings you had in your childhood, having always promised to be better than what you had before.

"Please, sweetheart, it's not like that, you know that," they say, sounding desperately like they are trying to find the right thing to say to make you feel better.

"I've just…been stressed and overwhelmed and, yeah it doesn't give me the right to ignore you like I have, but it's…but it's not personal. I just…." they trail off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. They're starting to feel defeated and confused themselves, not knowing why they've acted the way they have.

You sniffle softly, Naomi's eyes squeezing shut, their fingers pinching the bridge of their nose as they hear you cry softly.

"I didn't mean to fight with you," they manage to say quietly.

Naomi feels lost now, the feeling of remorse and guilt taking over their body again. They don't want this; they want to fix things, to work it out.

“I’m tired Nomi,” you say softly, tone defeated and exhausted. The pet name for Naomi sent a dagger through their heart, the name usually used in between kisses or giggles, sounding sweet and soft from your lips sounds drained now.

They can hear how defeated and tired you sound and know that they've done something terribly wrong. But they're just unsure of what to do to remedy the situation right now.

"Maybe we just need some sleep, and when we are recharged and rested, we can..." they suggest quietly.

“I’m tired,” you say, cutting them off, voice soft but definitive.

Naomi's blood runs cold. Tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of begging for normalcy, and regular conversation. Tired of being ignored or forgotten about. Tired.

"I…I know you're tired, honey," Naomi chokes up, sitting down on the couch, elbows resting on their knees.

"I'm sorry..." they start, breathing out, "I- you don't deserve to feel this tired, can we... do you want to talk about this after you get some rest? Are you almost at Jo's?" Noami asks softly, defeat lacing their words.

“Yeah...will you have time?” you ask, snark missing from your voice genuinely asking.

"Yes!" Naomi says quickly. "Of course, I'll have time to talk to you, whenever you want, I'm not doing anything else important."

Naomi pauses momentarily, feeling more confused by your question.

"Did you think I'd tell you no?" they ask.

“…Yes?” you respond softly, pulling into Jo and Kelli's driveway.

Naomi is stunned to hear that answer. They're speechless for a second, not sure of how to respond. Earlier when you asked it was snarky, this was a genuine question... had Naomi really proven to be so dismissive?

"Honey…you know that I don't think of you as a distraction that I need to get rid of?" they ask, with a tinge of sadness and frustration in their tone.

"…you know you're my favorite person in the whole world, right?" they ask with no snark in their voice, just genuine concern and confusion.

“I... it just hasn’t felt that way for the last few weeks…” you respond, staring at Jo and Kelli's front door, deciding its now or never, the opportunity has presented itself to have a real conversation about this.

Naomi is quiet for a moment. "…has it been that long?" they ask quietly.

This is beginning to hit Naomi harder and harder the deeper this conversation gets. You've been trying to communicate with them, and Naomi hasn't been listening, not really. Half listening at best.

"Are you saying you haven't felt like my favorite person for a few weeks?" they ask curiously, shame in their words.

“Naomi it’s been like a month,” you say softly, voice muffled. Naomi can practically visualize you running your hands over your face in frustration like you do.

Naomi's heart drops. A month…so this has been building up for longer than they realized. They feel their skin start to heat up. You've felt upset and neglected for a month, and Naomi didn't even realize it.

"Oh my god…" they groan. "…What the hell have I been doing?"

That question is more rhetorical than anything, but it's like it escaped, the utter stupidity that Noami feels is escaping out of every pore. "You've been trying to talk to me about this, and I've been…ignoring you…"

“Not so much ignoring but… distracted yeah… and I get it, I’m not… I’m not asking you to put me above MUNA; I know how much you love the band, and I would never ask you to choose. I just feel like,… what’s the point anymore? I’m practically begging you to pay attention to me,” you say, verbalizing the very thoughts Naomi had gathered in the last 15 minutes of this conversation.

They have spent so much time focused on their work and on the band's new album, and not nearly enough time putting it aside to give you the attention, love, and reassurance that you deserve in a partnership.

"You feel…like you're begging for my attention…?" they ask quietly. "Is…that really how you feel?"

“I mean I left the house today and you got mad and it’s like… you were supposed to come with me… we had plans, I— Emilia’s baby shower was today, and you just—“ you stammer, overwhelmed by the bluntness of this interaction.

Naomi feels a lump in their throat as they think about that. "Emilia's baby shower was today…? Honey, you didn't tell me, did you?" Naomi's voice is filled with confusion and guilt. "Why didn't you tell me you needed me to go with you to this?"

“Naomi, I did, multiple times I mean you even asked me why I was dressed up this morning before we fought. It was in the goddamn calendar! I shouldn't have to ask you to go to events with me!” you say, voice riddled with annoyance and a defensiveness that surprises Naomi.

Naomi feels what's left of their heart drop into their stomach. "I…I don't…remember you telling me…" They take a deep breath, trying to process that information. How did they not remember you were going to a baby shower this morning? Of course, that's why you were dressed up all pretty and holding a gift bag. And it was for Emilia, your close friend, not just some acquaintance.

"God, what…what is wrong with me…" they say, sounding like they're fighting the urge to cry.

“Because I talk and you don’t listen, this is what I’ve been trying to say. It’s why I’m questioning if you even want this anymore! You’ve never been like this, and if there’s something deeper you need to tell me, I can’t keep doing this,” you say with finality.

Naomi starts to tear up, their heart filled with shame as they listen to you talk. You're telling Naomi something they already know in their heart; they just didn't want to fully accept that they hadn't been fully present in the relationship.

"That's…not…I want this, honey …" they whisper. They feel like they're struggling to get the words out, like climbing out of a burning house, trying to save what's inside. "You're my best friend…you're the love of my life, and I want this more than anything…"

They pause momentarily, letting these words sink in for both of you.

“Then fucking act like it!” you exclaim, finally fed up. “I’ve been with you through two album productions and releases, and we haven’t had this issue, so if I’m not the problem and it really is the album and you are so overwhelmed fucking ask Katie and Jo to help you and act like you want to marry me,” you say, definitiveness in your voice, leaving nothing unsaid.

Naomi feels their heart sink even further as they hear how you are talking to them right now. And you're right. Naomi knows you're right, they hadn't been present or attentive or caring, but hearing you express it so pointedly this way still hurts.

"I…I want to marry you." Their voice falters and breaks as they say this, their sadness and shame coming through loudly in their tone. "I do."

“Okay,” you breathe out, unsure where to go from here.

Unbeknownst to Naomi, Kelli sees you sitting in the driveway, opening the door and waving with a sad smile.

“Look um, Kelli just opened the door so— I’m going to go in…”

Naomi feels the spot where their heart used to be pulse, feeling like something is crawling up their throat, struggling to breathe. They want to fix this right now, they need to.

"Can you talk for a second longer, please? I know you probably need some space, but I'm starting to realize how little I've given you these last few weeks…" their voice is filled with sadness and guilt. "Please…can we talk about this in person?" they ask quietly, not even caring how desperate they sound.

It takes everything in Naomi to try and mask the disappointment they're feeling, knowing that they wanted more time to fix this problem that they've caused.

"It's getting late I- I'm tired, I'm not driving back to the house now," you explain softly, rubbing your face.

"Right, yeah... no I get it," Naomi mumbles, wiping their eyes.

There's a long pause, the only sounds that can be heard are breathing from each other.

"I'm sorry I've been so distant lately, I do love you…I love you more than anything, honey" they say softly.

“I know, Nomi."

Naomi feels like they're on fire. Your response doesn't contain you saying "i love you" back. Naomi is quiet for a minute, digesting everything you've talked about. They start to notice how quiet the line has become and wonder if you've hung up.

"Are you still there?" they ask quietly.

“Yeah."

"Can…can you do me a favor then, please?" Naomi says quietly, their voice sounding small and vulnerable.

"Can you just…tell me that you love me?" they ask.

“Naomi—“ you start before Naomi cuts you off, really needing to hear that you love them, even if they don’t deserve it.

"Just…just say it, please," they plead, their voice small and full of anxiety; sharp intakes of breath are doing nothing to halt the turbulence in Naomi's chest.

“Naomi, take a deep breath,” you say delicately; Naomi can hear shuffling and the car door slamming as you get out of your car. Naomi takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm in this moment,

"Please say that you still love me," they beg gingerly.

“Naomi, I love you, I do… okay? I wouldn’t have gotten this upset if I didn’t," you respond tenderly, leaning against your car.

"Are you wearing your ring?" Naomi whispers.

"I’m still wearing my ring; please take a deep breath,” you say gently.

Naomi feels their heart soften a little after hearing you say those words. The guilt creeps in when they realize that even after hurting you, you're still comforting them. They hate how confident it makes them to know you're still wearing your ring. They feel terrible about this whole thing and about how much they've hurt you, but you wearing your ring gives them hope that this is something they can come back from.

"I'm so sorry, baby, so so sorry. I'm sorry I've been…distancing myself like this, honey…it's not right. Can you…can you forgive me?" Naomi asks quietly.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Naomi, okay?” you say, walking towards the front door. Kelli's eyes are full of empathy, staring you down. Jo stands behind her, furrowing her brows at your tear-stained face.

Naomi stays silent, feeling like a creep for trying to hear your surroundings, hating that youre at Jo and Kelli's instead of home with them.

"Tomorrow, okay. I love you," they say quietly, wanting to hear those words from you again before hanging up.

“Tomorrow… try to get some sleep,” you say, knowing Naomi probably won't sleep, the same as you.

"I will," Naomi says quietly, hoping they sound convincing, wincing when they realize you've always been able to see right through them. "…can I call you tomorrow or should I just wait for you to call me?" they ask nimbly.

“I’ll come home after work; how does that sound?” you ask, voice light and delicate now that you're in the comfort of your friends' home.

Naomi feels a wave of relief washes over her at the thought of getting to fix this face-to-face tomorrow. "Yes, okay, that sounds great; okay, goodnight," they say quietly, ready to hang up before something crosses their mind. "Oh, um, one more thing…" they feel the weight of the impending question on their chest.

"How was the baby shower?" they ask, ashamed.

You sigh softly. Naomi can see how you rub your eyes when you sigh in their mind. “It was— it was good, yeah… Emilia missed you, I— I covered for you, told her you were busy… I think you would’ve enjoyed it,” you say tenderly, trying not to add on to the growing list of grievances.

"Oh…"Naomi suddenly feels a flash of guilt hit them as you mention how Emilia missed them. They hate the thought of that.

"I'm sorry I missed that, and I'm really sorry that you had to explain my absence," they stutter, apologetic and guilty. "What did you tell her…about why I wasn't there? Just…busy, or did you say anything more than that?"

“Naomi, I’ll— we can talk tomorrow, yeah? When I get back to the house, I— I gotta go,” you say softly, Jo and Kelli's concerned faces watching you as you hold your head in your hands, trying to stop yourself from crying.

Naomi feels a lump in their throat as they realize you're trying to get off the phone. "Okay…yeah. Okay, that's fine…we'll talk tomorrow." There's hurt in their voice as they say this; they hate sleeping tonight without fixing this. The thought of not sleeping in the same bed makes Naomi nauseated. The worst part is that Naomi is why you're not curled up in your shared bed right now.

"Okay, goodnight, I- I love you...so much," they say genuinely, words cracking.

“Goodnight,” you whisper right before you hang up.

Naomi stares blankly for a minute, trying to calm down and compose themselves. Their heart feels like it was ripped out, and knowing that you probably feel worse makes it feel like it's being stomped on. They can't believe how they've treated you the last few weeks, the missed calls and dates, the lack of communication, the whole co-existing in the same house like roommates is too much for Naomi to think about without spiraling. All they want to do is hold you and tell you how sorry they are. But they know you aren't in the mood for that; you want some space, and Naomi plans to respect that.

As they crawl into bed later that night, your cat and dog occupying the space that is yours, Naomi lets themselves cry, before shaking it off and coming up with a plan to get you back and be the best partner they can be.

[margareth-lv]

🤕 No pain, no gain 🤕

There's an old saying that goes something like:

You know, the idea that everything ultimately has a cost and nothing in life is truly free.

In this context, the comment @auburncurlslass under my Saturday note gave me food for thought:

Another thought…..how did the B list actress score a seat next to the lead A list actor?? Does Bradley really know Caitriona? If so, how or what is the connection?🧐🧐🧐🧐

*** *** ***

Perhaps my reasoning is too simple, too simplistic. Perhaps the flow of my associations is also too simplistic, perhaps by simplifying I am making a mistake in my reasoning. I take this into account. Especially since I'm making my argument based on a few photos published on Instagram, not based on hard data. But what do we see from a few photos on Instagram?

(By the way, let's not forget that Sam flew to the USA at the time, so there's no doubt that Sam and Caitriona lead completely separate lives and have nothing in common. After all, nobody remembers that they both dropped off the radar in previous weeks. Sure, they weren't in the SM, but they couldn't have been together in real life at the time, as they lead completely separate lives, as they have repeatedly emphasised).

*** *** ***

Well, the course of events, reconstructed from several photos published on Instagram, is that on Wednesday 29 November 2023, Caitriona was standing (with a strange expression on her face) next to a half-dead and unwashed PA (a man who has always and for years had no career and no social media presence). She allowed her (and her PA's) photograph to be taken and published by GettyImages.

They appeared together at the special screening after party for 'Leave The World Behind'.

By the way, isn't the title significant?

This is proof #1.

*** *** ***

Two days later, on Friday 2 December 2023, a completely transformed Cait, with a beaming smile on her relaxed face, poses for a photo with the actress who plays one of the main roles in the film 'Maestro', Carey Mulligan.

We later learn that Cait was invited to an 'intimate lunch' organised by agency Finch+Partners to celebrate #MaestroFilm, directed and starring Bradley Cooper.

[Side note: ‚Maestro’ centers on the relationship between American composer Leonard Bernstein and his wife Felicia Montealegre. The film stars Carey Mulligan as Montealegre alongside Cooper as Bernstein. The film was scheduled for a limited theatrical release on November 22, 2023, before streaming on Netflix on December 20. It received positive reviews from critics. Source: Wikipedia]

During the lunch, Caitriona sits at the table next to Cooper, in front of Carey Mulligan (can you think of a better place to sit at the table?) and laughs at the jokes Charles Finch tells. How did she get there?

This is evidence #2.

Of course, there's no sign of the PA at lunch, it's a meeting in a small circle of trusted people. Caitríona doesn't flinch nervously, but laughs out loud.

*** *** ***

I search Google for a while. The agency Finch+Partners has Lionsgate as a client.

As well as Chanel and DeBeers, among many others.

The connection between Finch+Partners, Cait and Lionsgate is obvious.

Could it be that Wednesday's PA photo was the price she paid for the opportunity to have lunch with Bradley Cooper?

No pain, no gain. And there's no such thing as a free lunch.

The Finch+Partners connection to Cait, Chanel and DeBeers is more fun.

It leads straight to Eleanor May Tomlinson, 31, an English actress.

After all, both Cait and Eleanor are kissing the same guy. This is bound to lead to some amusing associations.

... like the same jumpsuit from Finch+Partners client, Chanel.

*** *** ***

And two years earlier, a shared presence at DeBeers Jewellers London Flagship Store opening event (24 November 2021):

Without a doubt, this is a small world.

💰💰💰

And you see: obedience pays.

If you know your place in the ranks, listen to your bosses and stick to the script of your life written by psychopaths, you can expect to reap the rewards.

Lunching with Bradley Cooper.

Wearing the beautiful clothes of Chanel.

[December 4, 2023]

[bestworstcase]

In general I'm far more partial to your thoughts on whatever Ruby & Yang's dad is up to than the fanon-consensus fall vault guard angle, though I do wonder about, say: Oz having the crown stashed somewhere outside said vault so whomever else is in on this could play keep-away with it. Of course that has no shortage of logistical drawbacks, though Raven sort of rejoining the fold does open up handy rapid-evac options so long as Salem doesn't catch her directly. Still, the 'dragon dad has totes noble rational Reasons, not that deep' conclusion does seem damn simplistic.

tbh i think the fanon presumption that tai MUST be guarding the crown is equal parts

1. the fandom completely failing to engage seriously with the (very obvious by now) factor of summer rose being alive – by which i mean, a huge swath of the fandom has grokked she’s still around in some capacity and treats this as little more than a trivial detail meant to twist the knife for ruby (and to a lesser extent, yang) in a shocking way, rather than, you know, the load-bearing pillar it clearly is in this given how her fate has been one of the central narrative questions since the beginning. which is to say that i think a lot of people are just brushing past the possibility that tai’s absence in vacuo is directly related to summer being at beacon, because they’ve either not added two and two to figure out where she is or they have but don’t consider that to be salient to the question of tai’s motives.

and

2. kneejerk backlash to the cyclical tai parenting discourse, with people who read him as a decent-to-good father getting defensive in reaction to the discussions that circulated after B4 revealed that his whereabouts are more or less unknown. it does in fact look Really Bad for tai to not be in vacuo for unclear reasons! which is why the subset of fans who read him as a good parent were predisposed to assume that he has a justifiable, crucial reason to stay in vale, namely guarding the crown. and then any other speculation on the subject of why he isn’t in vacuo was instantly conflated with the tai-is-neglectful reading and thence dismissed out of hand as "character bashing."

eyeroll. the point being, i think this defensive reflex toward tai resulted in a lot of people circling the wagons around the first snap assumption they made even though tai guarding the crown doesn’t make a whole lot of sense even if one accepts the fanon presupposition that he’s The Best Dad.

because he quit working for ozpin after summer disappeared (and to judge by the 9.10 flashback, didn’t have much respect for oz before that!) – we know this because,

it’s a notable enough change for ruby to comment on it when tai starts going on missions again; he’s been off active huntsman duty for over a decade, meaning he wasn’t taking any assignments from oz during this time (which is a point in his favor re: the question of his parenting and i think it’s really funny that people in the “good dad” camp were the loudest voices pointing out that tai clearly wants nothing to do with ozpin right up until the boba incident)

ruby and yang had no idea that ozpin had any particular connection to their family beyond having been headmaster when their parents were in school; they didn’t even know that qrow worked for him. tai kept him so much at arms length that he was just a random public figure to the girls.

tai is explicitly not involved in glynda’s effort to reclaim beacon, nor do port and oobleck seem to have any expectation that he should or will be once yang is back on her feet. they’re his friends, but there is zero professional or collegial relationship.

and frankly after tai watched his team implode and lost not one but two of his loves at least indirectly because of ozpin, why in hell would he want anything to do with that man ever again? did we forget him seething at qrow in v3? did we forget how palpably he wanted to just smack ozpin in IQ? hello?? if we’re starting from “tai is a loving dad who would move mountains for his kids” then i simply do not believe he’d stay in vale while qrow led ruby to round two with salem just because that’s what ozpin’s “in case i die” plan said he should do. like that’s flat nonsense.

the only way i could even consider that as a possibility with any seriousness is if i were convinced that tai straight up just Didn’t Care That Much about his kids, because that kind of coldly pragmatic decision-making—i’ll let my teenage children fight on the front lines while i putter around home keeping an eye on things for a dead man, because the crown is the most important thing—does not track with a man who gives a shit about his kids.

but i think tai does in fact care a lot about his kids, however dysfunctional the family relations may be, so like

the explanation that makes the most sense to me is that he figured out summer was alive and with salem in some capacity sometime in v2-3 and he’s been torn between the two sides of his family ever since. does he go after ruby or does he try to save summer? <- isn’t that a lot more balanced. a lot more understandable. potentially a lot more sympathetic, depending upon exactly what the circumstances are and how much he’s learned. for him to be Just Some Guy having to choose between His Kids and His Wife?

like?? i firmly believe that if the good-parent-tai crowd hadn’t immediately dismissed every other theory besides dragon-guarding-the-crown as hysterical character bashing then within a few weeks at most someone in that camp would’ve remembered that tai fucking hates ozpin and they would’ve eventually landed on “oh. duh. he’s staying in vale for summer” – because it is both obvious and casts him into a much more tragic, sympathetic light versus the stiff upper lip sorry kids it’s for the greater good crown guard angle.

[huesofvioletandpurple]

throwing thoughts to the wall here. I've been pondering a lot about Beatrice's gown specifically in that Outside of the meta world it seems to also represent Kinzo's very specific ideas of who/what Beatrice is. spoilers for the entirety of Umineko below the cut:

for one, I'm pretty sure it has the Ushiromiya one winged eagle on it ? which implies that Beatrice Castiglioni didn't own it originally. maybe it was tailored and made for her, or maybe she never even saw it in her lifetime. but regardless it is supposed to represent her, despite the fact that she met Kinzo in very simplistic clothing that does not bear Any similarities with the expensive and intricately embroidered fabric of the gown. a human woman has been raised to the level of The Golden Witch and thus is clothed accordingly

this grows more obvious with Kuwadorian Beatrice, who was raised and isolated to fill the role of her mother. she was given Beatrice's name and told all her life she was a reincarnation, and the dress was to honour the woman in question. but again, Kinzo has made her wear that gown. his view of Castiglioni, as an impossibly powerful witch who brought him back to life, defines his daughter's life and never challenged. ergo becoming the one surviving account of what Castiglioni was like. she wears that heavy, warm and ridiculously fancy gown on a regular basis—after all, Rosa didn't find her on a particularly special day. the ruffles on the skirt resemble the curtains of a stage; Beatrice is made to act as an exaggerated memory of her own mother.

then, there's Sayo. in her interpretation of Beatrice she already had an outfit—one that she wears when she's acting as her on the gameboard. one that she probably bought/arranged herself and takes great joy in wearing. however, when she solves the epitaph, her self expression is tainted and written over. like before, Sayo is made to wear the dress her mother wore. for what ? for Kinzo ! Genji, Kumasawa, and Nanjo made her wear that dress, the dress that contains Kinzo's warped perception of Castiglioni, just so Kinzo's redemption can come to fruition !

all they thought about was Kinzo and HIS guilt and HIS redemption and HIS sins and HIM and HIM and HIM. and they never took Sayo into account beyond how she would be Kinzo's successor, how to fit her into the gown and wig, how she could give Kinzo peace of mind in his final moments. and NO ONE, during the long process of getting her into the layers of this dress, putting the wig on her, making her wear blue contacts to emphasise this faint resemblance, EVER thought about how learning about her heritage might negatively affect Sayo.

I think it says something that she doesn't seem to wear this gown ever again on the gameboard. Sayo spent the years after what had been done to her picking her autonomy back up by any means necessary, so of course she goes for the outfit she chose herself, instead of the physical embodiment of the role she was pressured to play in.

[fallenalienz]

if you removed alicent from season 2 the story would remain entirely unchanged, that's how relevant she is at this point. they built season 1 around this friendship/rivalry she had with rhaenyra and that was fine for one season but the story has long progressed past that and the writers are refusing to let this go, to the detriment of the show. they're prioritizing marketing and wasting time on a character that canonically does nothing relevant moving forward at the expense of establishing and developing characters who are actually important and whose actions and decisions do affect the story.

i've seen those leaks for the finale lol, they truly turned her into the dumbest character on the show but in a way that's just incomprehensible and has no internal logic at all (i mean, selling out her whole family, even her brother and youngest son???). it's never been a secret that they've been trying to frame this story through the lens of simplistic real life present day gender politics but it's funny how in their obvious efforts they're unintentionally actually validating aemond removing her from council and making the case that she probably should've stayed in the kitchen. if someone wanted to be charitable they could interpret her actions as being so drunk on power that the moment she's stripped of that power she loses her wits and wants to harm the people who took it away from her so badly she becomes completely irrational, but that's obviously not what the intent here was.

[cecilioque]

VOLO’S OUTFIT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BAD. And here is why I think so...

To begin, we are not talking about the Ginko guild design, we are talking about the “final boss” fit. We all know that Volo’s outfit is dumb, but I’m mad because it  was actually thought out and VERY symbolic in the sense that it essentially represented things Volo said/wanted.

I, like everyone else looked at this outfit and went “wow, that is dumb” and then hated on it.  Although it is not the most appealing or cool outfit, there was actually a lot of thought that went into it. I could be really over analyzing this, but here is my interpretation.

To begin with, the concept art is a lot more revealing about the intention of the design then the actual game play.  On a surface level we see Volo in what I can only assume is a Arceus gijinka cosplay.  So the hair, the stars, and color scheme are all elements of Arceu’s  design.  Cool. Good job especially since Volo had in fact never seen Arceus before.

To fully understand this outfit we have to go back to Hisui and the remains of this so called “ancient civilization”. In the Pokemon world, there is this general idea that the ancient culture was either Roman or Greek inspired. We see evidence in Legends of Arceus by the obvious column heavy architecture and use of Greek Doric columns ( one of the earliest styles of columns used for temples) and in the ruins and temple. 

The Temple of Sinnoh is obviously based off of the Parthenon. It’s funny because game freak went as far as to even mimic both Ionic and Doric styles in the Temple of Sinnoh just like the Parthenon. I will go as far to add that the Sinnoh temple is much simpler than the Parthenon due to the fact that it was not embellished with an elaborately carved frieze or any decoration on the exterior for the most part.  Bizarre when even the broken ruins have evidence of some sort of ornamentation. It makes complete sense why the game developers chose this style seeing how is is know for being very simplistic.  But it also dates it in context.  It makes the Temple of Sinnoh the first temple that was build and the others that followed were build as the civilization grew ( thus more elaborate but we can only see the crumbled remains).

I will be ignoring the Snowpoint temple because it is a weird combination of styles and almost seems alien and out of place which very much fits the Regi theme.  It is also based on the early game design which was limited and blocky for game space sake.

Ok, heavy Greek and Roman influence. Back to Volo and his obviously Greek and Roman fit.  Volo’s name itself means “I wish”  in latin and could possibly be a reference to the phrase “volō, ergo sum” (I wish, therefore I am). Very in character since it is the wish for more” and he did everything he could to achieve that.

The actual influence for the design is more Roman in nature. This bothered me because we can see that research and thought went into it, but they just simplified it. And this actually has a point.

To begin with the obvious stuff, we see that volo’s shirt is definitely toga like. It even goes so far to be decorated with a Fibula (brooch)in a way that indicates a higher rank or status.  Cool Volo, we get that you think highly of yourself. Color choice is also same as Arceus, but we also know that white togas were also used by senators and high political officers.

Next , the shoes.  These are just the basic stereotypical Spirit Halloween Greek god/goddess type of sandals you can get at your local costume shop.  This was actually the most disappointing part of the outfit for me. But it makes sense they went with the most simplified and recognizable style.  They wanted us to look at this outfit and go “ Wow, Volo has been studying his myths and recreated an outfit”. This is what you could expect someone to create with just a written description of the clothing used during that time.

The necklace is interesting because it stands out so much compared to the gold colors. I am no sure what they were going for here by making it so prominent, but it brings us to an interesting thought.  If they necklace does have meaning, it is related directly to the design/shape.  The waterdrop could be the Greek symbolism for "tears of grace” or in a sense “gods grace”. The idea that the tears of god water the harvest and provide life. Alternate interpretations could simply be water as a source of life, or a symbol or sadness a mourning.  If it is a symbol of of mourning, this might be a clue to why Volo might desire to rewrite the world so much.

Last but not least, the pants. I think we can all decide this is one of the worst parts of the outfit, and to me it is just straight up confusing for two main reasons.  For starters, the color green is so prominent when green is an accent color on Arceus.  So maybe the color has meaning itself.  But if you look at the image above, the color mainly refers to life and “the harvest” (possibly like the necklace).  It has a weird connections to life and creation itself, which probably is why it was included in Arceus’ design and makes sense as Volo essentially wants to become the creator of life in a new world.

But this isn’t the part that gets me the most. The second thing that confuses me is the fact that the Greeks and Romans did not use pants.  This was because pants were associated with non-Roman/Greek cultures (the Germanic tribes and Vikings) who they looked down upon. On top of that, the Greeks thought pants were feminine and silly.  This could also just simply be a design choice because they didn’t wanna draw Volo in a full toga and accidently make him look like Christ. But this leads to my final point of the physical outfit itself.

VOLO’S OUTFIT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE GOOD. IT’S SUPPOSED TO LOOK DORKY AND BAD BECAUSE IT WAS FLAWED! This is based on the real world cultures it was based on. And although Volo may have done a lot of research, he still didn’t completely understand ancient culture.  It’s bad because Volo made it himself. His outfit was flawed just like his ideology. It is his own interpretation of a culture that he had idolized without truly understanding that this great and ancient culture crumbled. And based off of the architecture of the ruins and temples, it never even reached a prime before it fell.

But Volo thinks its correct/cool/accurate. He is being a fool about it because he didn’t understand the bigger picture and had become consumed with this desire for power and control.  This as an idea is really cool and I find it funny that you can also wear the outfit. Its essentially mocking him. If we look at the outfit in this light, the design was a success in getting us to dislike it and evoke this distaste. We didn’t know why, but this is why.

SO IN SUMMARY, OUTFIT WAS BAD ON PURPOSE. It wasn’t thoughtless, in fact there was a lot of research behind it and yet that seems to be thrown out to simplify the design in a way that looks like someone hand made it based off of what they had put together themselves.

But this isn’t my favorite part  of the concept art.  My favorite part is the hands.

Look at his hands. Why are they in those positions? Wouldn’t it have been easier to create more standard poses?  To me the hand gestures here are just too specific. So I started digging around for what they could be on a Art history level.  I looked at Non Christian art first and then Christian symbolism within their mosaics, illuminated manuscripts, and paintings. And I found some verrrry interesting similarities.  I am not trying to make this religious. I just found some interesting similarities between old Christian art and Volo’s design.  Which makes sense if we go back to this Greek/Roman influence because these cultures eventually converted to Christianity.  And Arceus is kind of a weird goat god Jesus.

The left hand is where the biggest symbolism is.  Basically, this hand gesture has been used to indicate “the hand of god” or the “hand of justice”.  Christ sometimes is draw with a similar hand position and could be a sign of the cross, but this would also refer to some sort of divinity.  I will also note that Volo is in no way making the classic “blessing” hand gesture.

As for the right hand he is making what I assume is a Greek/Roman orator (speaker) gesture. This would mean that Volo is calling for attention. Note, that I didn't’ compare this to prophets. That’s because orators speak for themselves and prophets for god.  And Volo thinks he is god.

Under this context, in the concept art Volo is essentially saying “I am God”.  If we add the symbolism of his outfit, it only further solidifies this idea.  Volo’s outfit/concept comes together and screams “behold, I am god , the hand of justice. I will be the creator or the new world”. Which is so freaking clever because that’s literally what he tells you. 

Sure his hands are switched and lowered compared to actual real world art examples (thank you Game freak for not throwing in actual religious symbols/gestures), but I think the intention is still there.  It’s so good that I am mad.  So as much as I hate this dumb outfit, I cannot deny that it was well thought out, that the character was well thought out.

To conclude, these are my assumptions. I am not an expert on art history or religion.  If you have further insights on this feel free to share. I’d be interested with what others had to add.  I the end this could all be wrong and just crazy for overthinking the designs of a pokemon character, but it just seems too intentional to be carelessly thrown together. This is just one possible interpretation.

Though its just more evidence in my mind that a lot of love and care went into developing Legends of Arceus. Despite their limitations and resources.

[chopshajen]

~ The Trickster Cat ~ Compelling, Enigmatic, Condescending ~

I said a bit ago that I had a Kooza/Cats crossover in mind and even if it was cursed I would draw it anyways, and here it is now, surprisingly uncursed, or at least, surprisingly satisfactory! I'll have to do some dance poses sooner or later but I'm happy with this as a start :3

I tried to keep the design true to both sources of inspiration. Some thoughts on the design under the cut:

There are some elements of the Trickster's design that translate pretty well to stage!Cats costumes, namely the smooth-limb effect of the Trickster's extra-long sleeves and flared pant legs compared with the Cats arm/legwarmers. It's something I really like about the traditional Cats costumes (and a big part of why Cats 2019's designs don't work)* and something I REALLY like about the Trickster's outfits, so it's great for me.

*For further expansion on the subject, @missing-sock-misto has a great breakdown of the Cats costumes here. The relevant part is this:

They help shape the limbs and invoke the feeling of fluff. Human limbs taper, especially at the joints: wrists, elbows, knees, ankles. The arm and leg warmers help cover this, because they’re thick, making them more like cat limbs, which are functionally tubes.

It's one of the first elements I noticed when I first watched the Cats stage show, and when started interrogating myself as to why I liked the designs so much, I realized its importance in "evoking felinity", as azerairis and missing-sock put it. There are a lot of Cats adaptations that, for some godsforsaken reason, get rid of the arm and leg warmers, and it's almost always a mistake. We're trying to make them look like cute cats, not like painted humans.

For the Trickster, why they have long sleeves and flared pant legs may not be as obvious, but they do still serve a visual purpose. They make the Trickster appear that much more ethereal and otherworldly. Everything about them is smooth and continuous - legs flowing into feet, stripes swirling uninterrupted across their body, movement lithe and serpentine - and that makes them seem inhuman, especially when put in contrast with the stick-like, stumbling, uncertain Innocent.

Other more minor elements also translate pretty well. For instance, the Trickster's makeup is already very exaggerated, as is their "hairline" (hat...line?), in a way that doesn't look out of place in Cats. They have stripes on their face, monochrome eyes, and the :3 kitty mouth. The stripes on their body were easy to translate as well. Honestly I didn't have to think over it as much as I expected LOL Except for the wig. Don't ask me how that works. I do think this design is maybe...too simplistic? Like I maybe could've incorporated some of the suit elements of their costume, cuz the Trickster does look kind of odd without their tie. But I wasn't going to give them a collar because pfffftbl lmao could you imagine. Maybe they could have something Skimbleshanks-esque for a top with some formality to it, though I'm not sure putting human clothes on a cat version of an unknowable trickster god person makes sense either LOL

[acradelius]

Good morning or Good evening ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ , can I request a Moira O'Deorain x Fem!Reader? , where the reader is kidnapped and violent things happen but she comes to our rescue so brave and concerned? thank yoooooouuuu ♡♡♡♡♡

"I'm Here Now, Coinín"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Moira O'Deorain x Gender Neutral! Reader

Rating: Lime [🟢] - (Equivalent to PG-13)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: Established Relationship, Female x Gender Neutral! Reader, They/Them Pronouns For Reader, "Lost Puppy/Blind Follower"! Reader If You Squint, Kidnapping, Mention of Interrogation, Mention of Pharmacological Interrogation/Torture/Methods, Forced Drug Usage, Mentions Of Broken Bones, Mention Of Deprivation Of Senses, Mentions Of Waterboarding, Caring/Gentle! Moira, Slight Praise.

Word Count: 951 Words

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

Whether it would be traversing throughout the nine layers of Hell itself or going on what is hoped to be a simplistic shopping trip to the local farmer’s market, they could be found directly by her side. It could be labeled as a suicide mission with a ninety-nine percent chance of not making it back alive or sitting next to each other on the couch in the laboratory office, they could still be found directly by her side. It was quite obvious that it didn't matter the location or the situation, (Y/N) could always be found directly by Moira’s side. Therefore, when Moira had left the disappointment that she called Overwatch, (Y/N) uprooted themselves and followed her into the hands of Talon without any questions or hesitations.

Yet, being a part of Talon’s inner council meant that there were some things that had to be discussed or dealt with where only Moira could attend, having to leave (Y/N) alone for the night to entertain themselves until Moira was to get back. “The less people that are aware of the situation, the less danger that you will be in, my Coinín,” Moira would respond when having been asked by (Y/N) why they couldn’t attend as well. Typically that would mean that they would have to entertain themselves within the comforts of one of the many safehouses that Talon occupied, but (Y/N) was feeling more adventurous, deciding to spend the night exploring the city. Unfortunately, the night didn’t end as (Y/N) would’ve expected, and ended up getting captured by some former Overwatch operators to be interrogated for information about Talon and their next plans of operation.

How long has it been since that night? How long has it been since (Y/N) had been snatched away from their late night stroll around the city to pass the time until Moira was to come back home? These Overwatch operators, some of them being former coworkers and former companions, refused to tell (Y/N). It didn’t help that the interrogation and the increasingly violent methods that they were using in an attempt to extract information was making it seem as if time was going by ever so slowly, but that was also a part of the methods as well. Each different person brought in to interrogate (Y/N) had various methods to use, some more dangerous and risky than the others, but they all knew that they couldn’t just outright kill (Y/N) as a final tactic.

Using pharmacological torture upon them and trying to pry information while (Y/N)’s in a drugged out haze, breaking bones varying from fingers and toes to an arm and a leg, trying to deprive them of their senses to where they could only focus on the darkness and the pain but forcing (Y/N) to stay awake to endure it all. Now they are attempting to force (Y/N) to submit and give them the information that they’re seeking through waterboarding, listening as the former member coughs out and gasps for air through the drenched cloth on their face. While there’s an expectation of that extremely cold water to attempt to suffocate them once again, that expectation never comes. There’s some slight confusion, a slight jolt from (Y/N) as there’s fingers frantically brushing across their skin, beginning to pull at the binds that hold them down to the chair and the items that were used to deprive (Y/N) of their senses.

It takes some moments for some stability to come to (Y/N) from being disoriented by the sudden rush of their senses coming back to them, grunting slightly while scrunching their eyes closed at the blinding light that surrounds them. There’s a voice, a voice that’s recognizable but between the blaring alarms, the undeniable sounds of fighting taking place within the background, it’s hard to make out what exactly is being said. “..M-Moira..?” Moia’s name slips past (Y/N)’s lips in a soft whisper while lifting their head in order to look at the person, and being confirmed that’s exactly who it was. “Don’t you worry, little Coinín. I’ll be taking you back home, making sure that you get the best treatment.” Typically being calm outwardly, it doesn’t take much for (Y/N) to know that internally Moira’s panicking, concerned about the amount of damage that’s been done, but she continues to hold her head up high and deal with the occasional enemy that crosses her path as she proceeds to carry (Y/N) to the dropship for evacuation.

“..Are you absolutely sure that you’re not in need of anything to eat or drink? Maybe even just a couple more pain killers to dull the pain some more?” Moira questions her injured partner within her arms once they make it into the dropship and settle into some seats. Despite that there’s the fabrication of giving life and taking life at Moira’s hands, their gentle as they caress (Y/N)’s cheeks, gentle brushing across their skin to access damages, Moira healing what she can of (Y/N)’s body at that moment. There’s a smile upon (Y/N)’s lips as they shake their head in response to Moira’s question, struggling to keep their eyes open due to the physical and mental exhaustion they were dealing with. “You’re doing well, you know that? Doing so well, I’m so proud of you for holding out as long as you did despite what they’ve done to you.” There’s a smile that graces Moira’s lips, a rare occurrence, before she leans down and places a gentle kiss upon (Y/N)’s forehead, running her fingers through their hair. “ Now, rest.”

[bots-and-cons]

Aye! can I request a Tfp X reader where the reader has the ability to go to other universes (like videogames, aus and other stuff) and they accidentally put team prime into the minecraft universe and has to defeat the ender dragon to get out. (also they have to fight in classic minecraft style)

I love Minecraft, it's my favorite game and I've been playing it for like ten years. I play it almost everyday if I have time, even if it's just for ten minutes between school work. This was a bit challenging to write because I had to do it from the perspective that they’re all players in a way. I only picked five bots, since it’s easier to manage and these still ended up pretty long

•You’re the minecraft pro in this situation and well the team is absolutely clueless

•Sure they’ve seen you play it on your laptop before, but to be in the game? Nononono

•It just happened by accident, and you sort of pulled the team in with you

•So you all get plunged into this darkness and before you knew it, there’s a familiar blue sky with connected cube clouds

•You look around and realize there are five other players around you and they’re all looking around, very confused

•Minecraft skins don’t have a very good resolution but you do recognize everyone, since they’ve got their colors and even though it’s a very simplistic teh designs are obvious

•Everyone is pretty much freaking out, because they have no idea what’s going on and they can’t pull out their blasters

•They can’t transform either and that’s super weird to everyone

•You’re pretty much laughing, because you’ve been in the Minecraft universe before and you know how to get out

•You start explaining how things work and everyone starts punching trees

•Bee is very excited to get a sword, even though it’s just a wooden one

•Like everyone gets all the necessary tools, but Bee is mostly focused on the sword

•Bulk really likes the pickaxe and Arcee’s swinging around a sword as well

•Optimus gets an axe and he’s very efficient at cutting down trees

•You tell him that you need to survive the night and that you need to kill some sheep so you can sleep, which everyone is appalled by

•Optimus is especially not on board with the idea, but he doesn’t protest after you explain you’re basically in a game and that they’re not actual animals

•You don’t manage to get beds for everyone so you can’t sleep the night away and have to fight the mobs and build a little wooden hut

•You build while the others try to keep the mobs away

•Bulk gets blown up by a creeper and barely survives, and Arcee gets has a bit of trouble with a skeleton

•Ratchet fights zombies and luckily no one manages to look at an enderman

•You get the tiny house built and you’re all huddled up inside of it so no one takes too much damage

•You tell them that even if they die in the game, they’re just gonna respawn and have to keep going

•You start making progress with the game and you end up in they caves to find diamonds

•You’ve instructed them all what to do and how to survive best and even though the cave adventure ends up being all mayhem

•Creepers, spiders, zombies and skeletons all around

•When you get out of the caves Bee sees a bee floating around and he’s just pointing at it and buzzing, because it’s so big

•He tries to pet it which obviously doesn’t end well and he gets super sad when it stings him and dies

•You teach them to use bows and swords and ender pearls

•You venture to the nether with the team and Ratchet falls into lava immediately

•You’ve got keep inventory on, so no stuff was lost but he screamed the whole way he fell

•He has to survive in the overworld alone while the rest of the team is in the nether with you, because he can’t find the portal

•You get the blaze rods from the fortress and the ender pearls from the warped forest and you’re out

•Optimus has just been doing what  you’re telling him, because he wants out of there and you seem to know best

•You finally get to the end and you’ve assigned tasks to everyone, Bulk and Optimus are going in with the axes for the crits and Bee with the sword

•You and Arcee are going to take out the crystals with bows and shoot the dragon until it comes down

•Ratchet is on enderman watch and trying to keep you all safe from them with water buckets and by killing them

•You finally get to jump through the portal and you’re back at the base

•The little adventure feels like it was a fever dream and pretty much no time has passed in the real world