#thought my fear was irrational up until that point!

[skitskatdacat63]

I can't listen to The Planets ever again without intense longing to hear it live again, TAKE ME BACK PLEASE 😭😭😭😭

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || SPECIAL SHORT STORY ||

paring(s) -> ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> SUGGETIVE note -> HAPPY HALLOWEEN !!

y/n’s perspective

“I really wonder how they’re older than I am,” Jongho said as I laughed. San and Wooyoung were arguing about what I should dress for Halloween, which was a bit silly since they fought against putting cat ears or fox ears on my head. 

Yeosang just smiled at their stupid behavior… mainly with evil intent because he and Seonghwa already agreed on my outfit and had it in their room away from the two fighting. 

“y/n-nie why not a dog–” “SHUT UP YOU OVERGROWN WOLF!” Woosan yelled at Mingi, who, at the sudden shout and growls, hid behind Yunho who only laughed at the sight.

“Why does it matter anyway? The two of you have the matching couple outfit” Yunho pointed out and the two glared at him. “Aren’t you going as a spider?” San said and Wooyoung laughed. “What a pathetic outfit–” “y/n! They're mean!” Yunho yelled while now going towards me on the couch hugging my waist and placing his head on my lap. 

“Let them handle their immaturity themselves,” Seonghwa added as Hongjoong laughed beside him. The only ones who knew about the Halloween outfit were the two tigers and Mastermind doberman. 

“y/n I’m your first hybrid–” “I knew her longer!” The two argued and I sighed. While looking at the trio who only looked away from me wanting to enjoy their fight more. 

“You like my costume right?” Yunho pouted and I smiled. He was going to be dressed as spiderman. In a normal outfit with the one piece suit under the clothes to reveal in a dramatic fashion. “Of course I do!” I said and he smiled and wagged his tail. 

“I want to dress as Spiderman!” Yunho came over to yell happily. “Oh?” I asked knowing where this was going… Since he got into video games he’s also gotten into comics, especially Spiderman comics. It was… cute seeing the big golden retriever wag his tail happily while reading a comic or even watching anything Spiderman related in front of the TV.  “But I thought we were gonna do a matching outfit!” Mingi asked, pouting at the older canine hybrid who signed at his friend’s distress. “You can be venomous?” he asked and Mingi scoffed. “That stupid alien, no thanks” he pouted and Yunho really really really wanted to be dressed as the superhero. “Mingi… you don’t have to match with Yunho? You can be anything you want that maybe Yunho wouldn't dress as anyway?” I asked and his mind went blank. “I don’t know! I just know I would rather have Jongho threaten me than be dressed as a stupid alien” he said and I laughed. For some reason… his irrational fear from Jongho yelling at him that one time traumatized him for life. “Oh! Let me and Yeosang choose!” Yunho said and he looked at his friend skeptical.  “Don’t dress me stupid?” “I promise!

Mingi… Well, his outfit did end up being picked by Yeosang and Yunho… While Yeosang liked to tease the wolf… Yunho was absolutely serious about what they ended up choosing. Yeosang laughed at the princess outfit he chose… but Yunho told me to buy it happily and with his eyes sparkling that I couldn’t say no.  So I said to myself I'd take Mingi to choose his outfit instead but I didn’t expect his reaction to simply smile softly at Yunho and say it was perfect. Truthfully… When Yunho pulled it out everyone was shocked he was being serious and even laughed until Mingi spoke up and said he loved it when everyone then had to pretend they never thought of it as a joke.  So Mingi was gonna be a pink princess with a tiara and everything for Halloween with his canine best friend as spiderman… how truly opposites they were. 

“y/nnie! y/nnie! I wanna dress up with Sannie!” Woyoung yelled excitedly when he heard we were celebrating this year. He grinned and looked at so many costumes while he simply let him choose what they would be. Until he found something… Harry potter. While it was now fall Harry potter was now back in season in which he and San binged it all.  And then… they found sorting quizzes… “HOW THE HELL ARE YOU A SLYTHERIN?!” Wooyoung yelled when he saw the words Slythern in the sorting quiz that San took. He was sure he would’ve been a Hufflepuff but no… he made the panther take so many quizzes until each time it was Slytherin.  Wooyoung of course was a Gryffindor.  So the two were dressing up as mages… but for some reason when it came to asking me what I would wear, I was gonna tell them Yeosang and Seonghwa said they have an outfit for me… that they got too excited and cut me off saying I should be a hybrid this year. Which I thought of as dehumanizing at first but the two were so excited I figured out it was primal for them… it's like when San put me in Wooyoung’s collar that one time. They wanted to see in a… different way. 

“Halloween? I hate the holiday” Hongjoong said when he saw the Halloween decorations Wooyoung mass ordered. “Hmm? Is it because of the…” I trailed and he nodded. I was gonna say he didn’t have to celebrate when Seonghwa came into the living room where he also saw the decorations. “Oh, are we celebrating? Are we also dressing up?” he asked, actually excited with his tail swishing behind him. “Huh? Oh, Wooyoung and San so far have taken the intuitive approach and ordered their outfits already, while I know Yuno and Mingi are thinking about theirs "I said and Soenghwa nodded while looking at Hongjoong.  “Should we dress up? Maybe we can match?” he asked his fellow tiger who chuckled and reluctantly agreed. “Ok, why not?” he asked as I was confused at his sudden acceptance. “If it makes you uncomfortable–” “It's fine really… the circus can ruin everything about my life,” he said and I smiled at his sudden response.  “Circus? Hmm… we can even dress up as clowns” he laughed and I was shocked he said that while even Hongjoong laughed. “I’d want to be something scarier than a clown”  he suggested so why did we end with their suggestions…  Hongjoong wanted to be a pirate of all things which also wasn't scary like he said… while Seonghwa, I think he’s been online too much and showed me the sudden phenomenon of hot men behind the Ghost Face mask and wanting to be Ghost Face… I’d be lying if I didn’t find it a bit attractive. 

“Yeosang said that I’m like Gloomy Bear and that I should dress up as him?” Jongho said and I didn’t want to laugh. I really didn’t… but Yeosnag hex to have been joking when he suddenly said that.  Then again… he is a bear hybrid with an obsession with fruit. While gloomy is a domesticated bear with a love for pomegranates.  “It's a pink bear Jongho,” I said and he scoffed. “So he was making fun of me again,” he said but signed and huffed. “I guess I'll do it… I have nothing else to dress up as and I don’t wanna be a vampire like Seonghwa-hyung was suggesting” he said and I smiled.  He respected Yeosang the most… so he decided on doing hybrid safe fur paint while simply being gonna wear white clothing with a blood platter, a simple outfit, and effortless. 

“How did you get Seonghwa to agree to you doing this?” I asked and Yeosang smirked. He wanted to be a wolf… while he was a canine hybrid he wanted to be dressed as the Big Bad Wolf. In simple black clothing while adding gray spray paint to his ears and tail with a pink bonnet on his head. It was cute when you didn't see his face… which he was gonna add fake blood on his canine teeth and face while wanting to dress me up as Red Riding Hood.  Seonghwa took charge with Yeosang to find me an outfit while he suggested something sexier. Yeosang also liked the primal aspect of it and bribed Seonghwa with something he still won’t tell me.  All to be matching with me as Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[sanakimohara]

Bangchan + Dollhouse by TheWeeknd and Lily-Rose Depp + Yandere 🤭🤭

Like imagine

You wake up in a random persons house, you've been stalked for months, that random person is your stalker. But you can't deny how hot he is. And for a while, he's gentle and makes you fall in love with him, until he introduces you to his friend, Changbin, who you can't deny is almost as hot as Chris, so you talk to him and basically ignore chris. Chris gets jealous and as soon as changbin leaves, he ‘punishes you’ with both rough sex and spanking (i have a spanking kink, spare me pls) and when he's done with everything and you're sleeping, he cries thinking he might of hurt you, you wake up a comfort him with another round. The relationship is messed up, but in front of everyone it's ‘Perfect’ and everyone calls you ‘Barbie and Ken’, but you're more ‘Jocelyn and Tedros’ (the idol ref). You sometimes feel trapped in a ‹Dollhouse› by how you have everything you want, but freedom and being able to talk to without chans supervision.

I know it's probably not your style of writing, but thought I'd request 🤭🤭

[ YOU ] PT.1 B. C.

parking: chan x fem! reader

summary: Stalker AU

playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5KyevYvSoqYDrdBqeAvTZO?si=ZgCCA54dQ7ChyVR2Eg381g

warnings: MDNI + NSFW + ANGST + KIDNAPPING + STALKING + STOCKHOLM SYNDROME + CNC + DESCRIPTIONS OF BODILY HARM + MENTIONS OF MURDER + TRAUMA + SMUT

type: full fic / angst / smut / horror…

a/n: not my style?!? Love, this is exactly the type of stuff I enjoy writing the most tbh. Also your request definitely reminded me of “The Idol” and ‘You” so…I made this fic as an overlap between both and I hope you enjoy it! 🖤

One…Two…Three….Four.

One…

Four walls. …

One door….

One. Two. Three. Four.

One….

Four walls and one door.

You’ve counted them over and over.

You sit in drowning silence, repeating the same numbers to resist the panic rising in your chest from their unfamiliarity.

You’ve never seen these four walls before.

You can’t even begin to remember walking through the door.

Let alone recall how you ended up tied to a bed’s iron-wrought headboard with tape plastered across your mouth to keep a wad of cloth shoved between your lips.

So, you resort to counting.

To repeat the pattern of numbers and halt the tears building in your eyes as the world seems smaller and smaller the longer you count them.

It’s strange.

These four walls and one door are your only comfort in the quiet of a dimly lit room.

It’s the only details you can make out through blurred vision, head fogging with illicit fear as you study them for any clue as to why you’ve been chosen to be within them.

It’s irrational.

Illogical.

But it’s the only thing you can think of to do being in a strange room, restrained and gagged without a clue as to who or why you’ve been put there.

You try to remember. Try to run through the possible events in the last twenty-four hours that’d put you in such an uncanny predicament, but nothing alarming crosses your mind.

There is nothing you can pinpoint as a warning sign you could’ve seen before ending up here.

You woke up, dressed, went to work at the record store until evening, closed the shop, grabbed a bite to eat at the cafe down the street, and then…

And then what?…

You couldn’t get past the point in your train of thought.

You remember the moment you stepped out of the cafe's side entry door and into the small alleyway leading straight to your apartment with a strawberry strudel and cold cream latte in one hand and your phone in the other.

You took one step, turning in the opposite direction of the cafe, finger hovering above the “answer’ button as an unknown caller ID flashed across your phone screen. You meant to answer it, wondering if it was the man who’d come into the record shop looking for a Nirvana vinyl and a pleasant conversation.

What was his name again?

Chan?…

Christopher…?

Wait, no…

Chris!

He’d been the kindest and most invested customer you’d ever met since working in the retrofitted store, insisting that you exchange numbers and plan a time to hang out, listen to records, and maybe discuss opinions on certain bands over a bite-to-eat later on.

You found no harm in taking him up on the innocent offer. Giving a good-looking, genuinely sweet, and apparent music lover your number didn’t seem like a bad idea.

You could barely hold the smile creeping onto your face at the thought of getting a call from him so soon, imagining the drawl of his Australian accent carrying through the phone like pure honey.

You hit ‘answer,’ phone raised to your ear as you began to walk down the brick alley, but the moment your lips parted to speak, a particular smell invaded your nose, and the world went black.

No warning.

No indication.

No recollection.

There was nothing you could grasp from the startling incident that gave a clue as to what happened and why.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and your head began to hurt from the effort it took to sift through the distorted memory.

A solemn huff struggled to get past your lips, muffled by cloth and tape but audible enough to crack the silence in the room.

Your hands, wrists, and arms felt heavier. The rope twisted in and around the joints, pulled tight to wrap through the bed’s iron headboard, which swirled into a whimsical pattern. Your legs were left somewhat free, ankles bound by the same rope, but the knot around them was too tight for you to wriggle your feet free entirely.

Each time you tried to wrestle the restraints, they’d dig into your skin, scratching and pressing until lines of red were left.

You gave up squirming when the pain became too much, having let go of the hope that someone would hear your muted screams just before that.

Your heart rate failed to slow, stuck in a perpetual frantic pace as you resorted to counting and crying to yourself for comfort.

For a sense of security in a situation that couldn’t possibly remain secure.

A shroud of defeat hung above you, blanketing you in exhaustion as the numbers rang through your head again.

One. Two. Three. Four….One.

One. Two. Three. Four-

*snap*

*click*

Your counting abruptly ends when you hear the door lock come to life—a sharp sound that sends rivets of caution through your veins. You watch from the bed as the doorknob twists, turns, and clicks open.

*creak…*

The wood cries quietly as it’s pried open, inching with gentle force as a figure steps through it.

“You’re awake….I’m glad.”

Chris smiles, a warmth to his lowered voice that doesn’t entirely match the tension his presence has created in the stuffy room you’re tied up in.

You stare at him, watery eyes wide with confusion and pure fear.

His smile.

His voice.

Those brown eyes of his that you’d sworn looked so sweet, lighting up with recognition when you showed him the record store's Nirvana section. Now, they terrified you as they grazed along your vulnerable position.

A position he’d put you into.

A position you hadn’t expected him, a man so warm and so down to earth yet new to you, to put you in.

Chris saw the wheels turning in your head, reading the tidbits of betrayal bombarding you as the pieces of the puzzle you’d been trying to put together for hours finally came together.

He felt…guilty, of course.

He hadn’t meant to take you so quickly. Let alone without getting to know your mind a little better, but he needed a new source of purpose…

A new fix for the addiction many were unaware he had developed after years of denying it himself.

He needed a vice, a project, a doll to mold, a person who would depend on him and only him.

You checked all those boxes. He’d made sure of it. Trailing you for weeks after spotting you closing the record shop one evening on your way to the cafe he’d just left only a moment ago.

Getting rid of a body was never easy. It was a tedious task he rarely did without the help of caffeine in any form he could find, but one look at you had his mind wandering from the burden.

It was almost too perfect, in his opinion.

You were almost too perfect.

You remained on his mind for the next few days. You were the only thing he could ponder while tossing bags of muscle into the ocean in the dark hours of the morning. An itch he couldn’t quite scratch away.

So, against the resolve of his last failure to find someone to hold on to, Chris took an interest in you.

In your day-to-day life.

In the few friends and family you had and kept close.

In the days you went to work.

In the time you spent at the cafe after you’d leave the record shop.

In the specific orders you made.

A toasted strawberry strudel and cold cream latte on Mondays and Sundays.

Pumpkin vanilla cappuccino and lemon cake slice on Tuesday and Thursday.

Oh, but his favorite combination you ordered happened every Friday…

A slice of cake with strawberry filling and a cup of ice cream with extra whipped cream on top.

On those days, he’d watch from afar as your cheeks flushed from every bite of cake and cold cream you’d take. Bits of whipped cream swiped off your lips with a quick pass of your tongue. And that slight smile on your face as you enjoyed the treat always warmed his heart a little more each time he saw it.

You lived alone.

All alone.

A sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to but you do.

Chris couldn’t stand it.

Not the way you walked home all alone each night.

Not the way you stayed at the record store later on some nights to finish your manager’s closing tasks whenever he asked you to.

Which was far too many times for Chris’s liking.

Not the way you’d had to shop for yourself. You were buying smaller portions of groceries only to feed yourself.

Not how you helped anyone, even the rudest customers he’d ever seen when stopped by the record store in search of anything but vinyl records.

Not the way you’d crouch down in the alleyway after those interactions to cry into your hands and try to calm down before returning to work with a smile.

He couldn’t stand it.

Any of it.

Weeks of watching you suffer through a life he could make so much better for you made his headache and his mind numb.

Meeting you in the record store was only supposed to be a soft start to a usual routine he’d perfected over time. A quick interaction, something to ease his desire to have you all to himself. Nothing more. Nothing less.

But seeing your smile up close, hearing your soft voice carry under the sound of the 80s best hits as you led him to the section of records he’d asked to see, did something indescribable to him.

He could’ve waited. He could’ve gone on a few dates that he knew you’d gladly go on with him, but a rare impulse toppled over his logic.

You’d be so much happier if he had you.

He knew it.

He believed it.

And sooner or later, you’d believe it, too.

What’s the harm in making sure you’d believe it sooner?

Chris breathed, steadying himself despite the relief he felt seeing you wide awake and safe right where he had left you.

“Listen,…Y/n…” he stepped closer, eyes drifting around your figure when you began to toss and turn against the bed to scoot further away from him.

To keep him away at all costs.

Chris felt his heart drop, his smile gone, watching your teary eyes dart over him and through the room. Your body shook, your legs pulled close to your chest, and your head pressed back into the headboard.

You were terrified.

He terrified you.

That just wouldn’t do, and Chris stifled his inner doubts and regrets about causing you so much confusion and distress to remedy it in any way he could.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d listen to reason and hear him out.

You seemed like the understanding type.

A girl who could see another���s perspective without offering harsh judgment.

Chris was sure of it, though you looked utterly terrified of him now, if he was careful enough…

You’d have no choice but to understand.

“Listen,” he smiled at you, rounding the bed in three swift steps and kneeling at its left edge as you tried to curl closer to the right one.

He sighed, trying not to take your reluctance to be near him to heart, but the silent sobs that barely made it past your gag annoyed him to some degree.

Did you think he’d hurt you?

Him?

The one who’d made it his life’s new purpose to protect you at all costs would plan on hurting you when he’d only just gotten his hands on you?

Chris felt the frown on his lips, unable to retrain his disappointment in your behavior. Still, the disapproving expression he held lasted for less than seconds before he softened into a kinder one.

“Listen… I’m not going to hurt you. I know you must be so scared right now, sweetheart, and that’s fine.”

He straightened up, raising his arms to fold on the bedsheets. His shoulders tightened underneath the black shirt he wore, and he took a deep, elongated breath through his nose.

You watched him, struggling to see him as the same man you’d met in the record store. From the beginning, he’d been a stranger, a new face of kindness that mirrored your own, but now your mind couldn’t fathom what to think of him.

A dryness settled in the back of your throat, adding to your jaw ache and the soreness blooming through each of your tied limbs.

You were in pain.

He was putting you through so much pain, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

And you still had a little faith in his promise, believing the sick irony of it for the sake of internal hope.

Chris raised his head, strands of blonde hair falling over those eyes you couldn’t help staring into. “You can be afraid of me, baby. I know you are, and that’s fine, but know I’m doing this for you…” He paused, letting a wry laughas his lips pulled into a smile you barely saw when he lowered his head again.

Your nerves vibrated with anxiety, his sudden silence setting you on edge and bringing tears right back to your tired eyes.

Chris looked up, hearing you crying again, brows furrowing with irritation and concern. “Don’t cry.” The command hangs in the air, crisp and direct. You flinch hearing it, put off by the gentle raise of his voice and his abrupt movement to stand up and lean over the bed’s edge.

You shift away from him, holding back the tears that beg to fall from your eyes, fearing that disobeying his demand won’t end well for you.

“Crying won’t change anything for you.” He inches closer, a knee dipping into the mattress as his left-hand reaches to cup your face. You jerk your head back at his touch, ignoring the slight pain hitting it against the headboard causes but failing to avoid his touch when he weaves his fingers through your hair and tugs to hold you in place.

It hurts.

The pressure he inflicts onto your scalp leaves you complacent and strained.

You go still, shivering underneath his looming body heat as he drapes his head over yours.

Blonde locks tickle the bridge of your nose and forehead, shifting as his brows raise and his thickly accented voice pierces the room's defeating silence.

“You’re a smart girl, yeah?..”

You nod in a daze, throat too dry to scream, head too sore to think, and heart racing too fast for you to decide if fear or attraction to him was taking over you.

You hoped it was the latter.

Otherwise, you’d already begun to lose your mind.

Chris smirked, studying the way your pupils dilated on him.

There it is.

The sign he’d been longing to see since he’d walked into the room and found you awake.

A small, familiar, and telling indication of submission.

“Yeah, you are…” he scoffs, eyes drifting to the tape plastered across your face, noting the subtle lines of drool beginning to slip from under it and down your chin.

Your chest heaved as you inhaled a sharp breath through your nose, choking on a sob that dwindled into a whimper for mercy.

For his mercy.

His pity.

Anyway you could get it, use it, and beg for it.

Your desperation.

You wanted him to see it written across your face and in every painful sound you made.

But Chris looked right past it, heard none, and continued leering you into his web of little white lies.

“Then you understand why I’m doing this to you? Why I have to keep you safe like this? Why you have to stay and do as I say?..”

You don’t move. You are not giving him a nod or a flutter of your lashes that’ll resonate in agreement.

Because you disagree.

You’re helpless, scared, and condemned.

But your pride and need for survival hang on by a thread, so you refuse to feed into him more than you have to.

You defy him.

Chris waits. He waits for a moment to see if you’ll give an inch to his established mile, and when you don’t show any sign of doing so, he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“So….that’s how you’re going to be…” he sighs, frowns present as he loosens the hand gripping your hair to trail it down to the nape of your neck. You jolt at the feeling of his large and rough hand meeting your bare skin, applying pressure right below the crown of your head as he holds you still.

“I bet this is hurting you, huh?” Chris hums, a genuine flicker of sympathy flashing across his face as he lifts his free hand to trace over the duct tape plastered across yours. “Why don’t I help you, hm? Get this off your pretty mouth and let you answer me…”

Your eyes widen, and your head tosses in his hold the second his pointer and thumb grasp a corner of the tape and pull it from your skin.

Chris rips the sticky plastic from your face as if it were a simple bandage over a healed wound, and you cringe hard at the ruthless action. A half-formed scream, tears from your still stuffed mouth turning into frantic cries as he forces you to stay still through the searing pain.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” He comments passively, pulling the wad of cloth between your aching lips and tossing it onto the bed with the discarded tape.

You cough, your throat is burning, and your jaw is hurting as you try to grit your teeth and speak to him, but your voice is inaudible.

Stripped away from all the pointless screaming and crying you’d done for god knows how long.

He smiles at your attempt to curse and yell at him, his head shaking mockingly as he passes a thumb over your trembling lips. “Shh shhh shhh…just listen to me, sweetheart,” he coos, and you groan in defeat as he repeats his earlier question.

“You understand why I’m doing this to you, right? That it’s not safe for you out there. Not without me there to help you…say you understand, and I’ll take away the pain you’re feeling right now.”

You stare at him, failing to maintain a glare from the strain your mind and body is in.

It would help your sanity if you said no.

Shake your head and build up the courage and will to fight him with all you have, but numbness drags you into a state of complicit survival.

A need to appease him and hopefully garner some relief from your physical exhaustion.

Your lips part but then snap shut when a sharp ache flares in your jaw.

Chris’s face softens completely when he sees the minuscule instance of pain you’re in. “You don’t have to talk if it hurts. Nod for me instead….just like that,” he soothes you in a hushed tone, smiling as you obediently nod your head.

“Atta’ girl…” he praises, a smile slowly forming again as you whine quietly, shutting your eyes tight, letting the few tears you have left pour down your reddened cheeks.

You can’t speak, and you have no freedom to move or motivation to call for help.

And part of you doesn't want to anymore.

Part of you sees no point in doing so.

What’s the point in fighting him when you can barely speak or move a muscle without strain.

Without feeding into his demented perception of your need for him.

It’s odd—feeling defeated but strangely aware of the caring nature of a man who's forced you into such a miserable state.

Chris breathes a sigh of relief, nose nudging against yours as he hums lowly while breathing you in.

Breathing in your desperation.

Your dependence.

Your fear.

Your innocence.

He takes everything you have to offer him, his mind racing with ways to use it against you…

To help you, his newly shattered doll, piece yourself together again.

The correct way.

His way.

a/n: This’ll be a 4 pt series and my prime event for the spooky season. Btw…fiction is fiction and this fic has pretty extensive and extreme themes in it so please don’t continue to read it if any of the plot/context makes you uncomfortable. I don’t tend to hold back on darker themed fics and this one won’t be any different so please keep that in mind.

other links: n/a (might go up on AO3 later)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

What are you trying to say? - Trevor Zegras

Word Count - 3600

Author's Note - I 100 percent projected my own dysleixia hardcore into this. This was 100 percent written for the dyslexic girlies and learning disability girlies only. Also not me accidentally maybe becoming a Trevor girlie after writing this oh no. This one is by far my favorite segment.

Warnings - light angst but like it ends happy shocking for this page, who am I becoming???

Summary - In the talking stage with Trevor Zegras you're not sure how his joking personality will respond to your struggles that you have with being an adult with dyslexia, especially since it doesn't affect you how media expects it to.

Let me love you masterlist main masterlist

This isn’t something new to you, you’ve struggled your entire life with the fact that you're dyslexic. It’s a lot more complicated than people may recognize. Many people assume that it only comes up when you're trying to read something like a textbook or an article, and that when you’re finished with school it won’t really affect your daily life anymore but that’s far from the truth. In truth, being an adult with dyslexia affects you in little ways daily. From having difficulty knowing your left and right when given verbal directions, your spelling being terrible when texting others, mispronouncing certain words and being easily embarrassed when it gets pointed out, or worse sometimes the word is literally on the tip of your tongue you can even physically see in your brain but your mouth can’t form the proper sounds, how certain fonts you struggle to read vs others, or that black ink on white paper is the bane of your existence.  Although all of these are “little” things, it does impact the way you communicate with others. It does feel extremely frustrating sometimes feeling like people think that you're using your dyslexia as an “excuse” when in reality your brain is wired completely differently because of it. 

Since you first met Trevor and started talking to him, you had that fear you always do in the pit of your stomach, will he pick on you the first time that he truly can’t understand a text or the first time he hears you mispronounce a word despite years of speech therapy where you tried to but still you can’t pronounce correctly. Although, part of you knew that your fear was extremely irrational, part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that was until proven otherwise the jokester in Trevor would make a joke about something you truly couldn’t control. 

That is until today, when it happened it’s one of those rare days when you were driving and Trevor was in the passenger seat. His car was in the shop, and he needed a ride back from the arena to his apartment. Originally he was going to take an Uber but since you both already had plans after the morning skate you insisted on picking him up. 

“It’s easiest if you take this right up here to get back to my place.” He directs you without looking up from his phone,you tell him okay, turn on your left turn signal and get in the left lane. Trevor finally looks up from his phone while you're waiting at the red light for it to turn green to see you're in the wrong lane. 

“Sweetie?” asking in a questioning tone

“Hmmm” 

“This is the left lane. I told you to take a right.” Trevor says in a concerning tone as to how you were five traffic lanes away from where you needed to be. 

“sorry I thought you said ‘left’. I can make a u-turn?” Deciding in the moment you didn’t want to admit that you heard him correctly but processed the direction wrong, you offered as the traffic light finally turned green. 

“It’s alright we can just take the long way. Don’t worry about a u-turn.”  Not seeming to care at all that it will add an extra 10 minutes to the drive due to the mistake. 

As you continued driving you ended up making another wrong turn, Trevor put his left hand on your thigh and subconsiously rubbed small circles into skin to comfort your growing anxiety, he could feel this odd tension that was built up in the car. “Can you point please?” your voice barely over a whisper as you felt extremely embarrassed all of a sudden and started feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. 

“Yeah Y/N/N I can do that, we could also switch places. I can drive you the rest of the way if you need it if you're feeling anxious all of a sudden.” Trevor was being really sweet, trying to fix the problem at hand thinking it was just some anxious thoughts and not your brain processing audible information incorrectly. 

“No, pointing is good.” Forcing yourself to look straight ahead because you don’t want to accidentally catch his eyes as he looks at you with a worried look. He squeezes your thigh in a comforting way and drops the topic. The rest of the ride felt quick as he pointed and said the direction you needed to go until you reached his apartment. Finding a parking spot in the garage you parked your car, as soon as you felt your foot on the brake, and your right hand pulled the gear in park, you leaned back automatically and sighed grateful you were done driving. Trevor still had his hand on your thigh, he turned his neck so that his head was also resting on the headrest. 

Trevor patiently waited until you opened your eyes, turning to him with a soft smile. “You ready?” you ask him, as you start to unbuckle your seatbelt. As you grab your purse from the back, your hand on the door handle. His hand that was on your thigh is gone and immediately pulls you by the wrist back into your seat. As he takes his other hand and gently places it on your cheek forcing you to look at him. 

“Can we talk about it?” His voice was steady, calm, confident but soft, almost as if he was scared of your reaction. 

Smiling a little wider now, in a split second you try to decide what you want to do. Do you want to tell a boy who you’ve only been casually talking to and hanging out with a handful of times - one of them being this current moment - about being dyslexic. Although it’s not that big of a deal in retrospect, it’s something that you can never take back once you said the words. Even though it’s something so simple and common no one ever looks at you the same again. Were you ready to tell Trevor, and see his face change permanently or did you want to live in ignorant bliss for a little longer. 

“I’m fine, it’s just when I drive somewhere new I like listening to the GPS and not a person telling me directions, it helps me focus better is all.” sheepishly you admit. 

Ignorant Bliss. That’s the choice you made. 

“Okay well next time, can you tell me that so I don’t have to watch you stress yourself out please?” His hand that was on your wrist, going down to your hand playing with your hand. Taking your hand that he was playing with, fully grasping his you squeeze his hand as a silent yes, and nod your head. He leans over the middle console and quickly peaks your lips as if it was a last minute impulse and he meant the cheek. “Thank you, let's go inside.” 

—-------------------------------

Living in ignorant bliss was great for a few weeks, until you started to actually like Trevor. Talking to a guy for a few months and it not going anywhere vs meeting someone and potentially seeing at least an exclusive relationship with them were two very different things. Knowing that you saw a relationship with him in the future meant it was only a matter of time before he found out that your dyslexic which again isn’t that big of a deal, but the fact that you also lied to him a few weeks ago. Not telling him is one thing, but lying when he asked why you were struggling to drive that day is a completely different act. 

Trying to put off the inevitable you tried to push the thought to the back of your mind. Somehow convincing yourself that if you didn’t think about it, then the problem would disappear he would never find out. I mean when you didn’t know how to spell a word while texting, you just spoke it into your phone. As far as grammar no one really had perfect grammar when texting including Trevor to be perfectly honest he probably didn’t even notice half the time. Plenty of people kept all their devices in dark mode for plenty of reasons, he had no reason to ask, although you did it because it helped your eyes stay focused on the words in front of you, not for the aesthetic. 

Even so, with all of these excuses as to why he wouldn’t notice you failed to remember that certain words you truly can’t pronounce the correct way no matter how hard you try. It all came crashing down tonight when you were at Trevor’s apartment cooking dinner for the both of you. Dinner was almost done at this point, when Trevor came behind you just now re-entering the kitchen after taking an expected call from his little sister. Trevor wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on top of your shoulder. 

“Everything okay?” you ask your curiosity getting the best of you, even though you know it’s none of your business. 

“Yeah she’s fine.” Pressing a kiss into where your jawline and neck meet. “smells good.” He compliments your cooking as he teases you one more time with a small nip with his teeth where he just kissed you, before pulling away and resting his head on your shoulder. 

Answering shyly, you let out a “thank you.”

“Anything I can help with?” asking genuinely although you're not sure if it’s to be kind or if it’s because he’s hungry but either way you’ll take it. As he slowly unwraps himself from you, getting ready to help you in any way you need. 

Without looking up from the chicken that you're grilling on the stove, trying to concentrate on the task at hand you answer him. “Yeah actually can you grab out the mellk from the fridge for the mashed potatoes.” Not even thinking twice about what you just said until you heard a chuckle coming from across the kitchen. 

“What babe?” standing in front of a now open fridge, he could have sworn you tried to say milk but botched the word so badly, it couldn’t have possibly been.

“the mellk” finally noticing what you asked for, knowing this is one of the words people can’t help but point out how you butcher it. 

“What are you trying to say?” he asked, truly confused now that he heard it twice. 

“M - il - k “ you repeat slowing down your mouth trying to force yourself to pronounce it properly but also not speak too slowly. Hoping that it's noticeable as you force your tongue to the roof of your mouth to make the “il” sound.  

A small chuckle leaves Trevor’s lips but it wasn’t a malicious way, it was as if he chuckled because he found it adorable. “Here's the milk baby.” walking back over to you and placing it on the empty counter space next to the bowl of steaming hot cooked potatoes. Taking the chicken off the hot burner you moved to the island to where the potatoes were. 

“Sorry” you mumble as he stands beside you, his hip resting on the side of the island. 

“For what?” His eyebrows frowned, his eyes focused the side of your face the only thing he could see. Focusing on the task at hand, you used the potato masher and mashed the potatoes. Opening the milk and adding a little along with some butter that you set out earlier. 

Feeling the rise of some anxiety in your stomach, hoping that you could procrastinate just a little longer on admitting that you didn’t tell him the whole truth. Deciding if now was the time or if you were gonna dig yourself in a bigger hole by wrapping yourself in a thicker web of tiny white lies. 

Finally turning your head to the side to face him and taking a deep breath. 

For good measure making one more deep breath before you barely utter the words, your nerves getting the better of you. “I lied.” 

Trevor’s face immediately changed from confusion and concern. In an instant it became shocking and almost hurt, that the girl he thought was actually going somewhere a month in, is admitting to lying to him. Not when he told her in the beginning that lying wasn’t something he tolerated after his ex lied to him for months and manipulated him. Not when he just told his little sister not even ten minutes ago on the phone that tonight he was gonna ask you to be his official girlfriend. “What are you talking about?” his voice cracking before he could even get the word out, quickly clearing his throat to cover up his own insecurities about the possible tension that could slowly be felt brewing in his kitchen. 

“Remember a few weeks, when I was driving you to your apartment from the stad-” 

“What the FUCK does that have to do with lying to me? When did you lie to me Y/N” Not only has Trevor never once raised his voice at you in a not joking way, but he’s never cursed at you, and his tone made you close your eyes and flinch at the impact. Immediately, seeing you flinch he sighed his hand going to lightly crease her arm closest to him. “When did you lie?” asking at a much softer tone than moments before. 

“I’m trying to explain.” Trevor could have sworn he felt his chest hurt when he heard you struggling to speak, as if you were trying to get yourself not to cry. “Please let me explain.” 

“Okay” he softly let out, as he squeezed your arm not sure if he was trying to comfort you or himself as he felt the possibility of you slipping through his fingers. 

“A few weeks ago when I drove you home.” finally turning her body fully turning to face him. “I lied, When you asked me what happened. I told you I need the GPS because I get overwhelmed.” Pausing to make sure that Trevor was following along, he nodded along, “I lied, sort of,” your voice picking up in speed with each word you uttered out  “I mean I do get overwhelmed while driving but it’s not because of that it’s not that I” 

“Baby please take a breath you're scaring me” His other arm is going to cup your cheek, even though he was mad before as he heard you fixated on driving him home a few weeks ago. He knew it couldn’t have possibly been any of the terrible ideas that popped into his head, at least Trevor hoped not.

 “I sometimes get my left and right confused.” Looking up trying to gauge his reaction, watching as one of his eyebrows go down, as if to say ‘that’s all.’ 

“Okay. So that was the lie? Everyone gets confused sometimes and makes mistakes baby it’s okay” His famous smile slowly takes over his face. 

“That’s the thing is it isn’t sometimes, it’s kind of a lot when I’m driving when someone is giving me directions without pointing, and there are other things too. I mean they're small but they still affect me almost daily and I just.” 

Deciding to take a breath because if you don’t you will be more likely to trip up your words or stutter. “I’m dyslexic and it’s not really how they describe the movies.” 

His smile dropped a little and you swear it felt as if your heart felt as if it had just dropped a hundred flights down the Empire State building. “Dyslexic. Like you mix up letters when reading?”

“Yeah but it’s more than that.”

“Okay. But why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Why did you say it’s because you get overwhelmed.” 

“Because I do get overwhelmed when I make dumb mistakes like that. Plus, everytime I tell someone they never look at me the same. A lot of times they are shocked, and they also sometimes judge me because how does it not affect me the way the media portrays it? Why do I mispronounce words, why can’t I tell my left and right when someone gives me a direction, why I can’t read maps to save my fucking life but yet if I don’t have my GPS running I’m bound to a wrong turn, why does sometimes my mind decide I either can’t come up with a word at all or I can physically see it but I can’t say it and I can’t spell it because I’m such a bad speller.” 

“Shhh” not trying to cut you off but also trying to get you to breathe. “So you didn’t tell me cause you were scared I would look at you differently? Or judge you when something you can’t control comes out at random times of the day? That’s why you told me to point instead of just saying it because you didn’t wanna tell me in fear?” Not sure his tone is showing remorse for you thinking that at all or hurting that you ever would think of him in that way. 

“Yeah.” you embarrassingly admit.

Trevor spent the rest of the night listening to you and how your brain was different due to your own personal experience with being a dyslexic. The next morning you found him reading an article about the effects of different lighting and how dark mode was the best for dyslexics and certain fonts were better than others. It made you chuckle as you told him you knew and that’s why your phone was permanently in dark mode.  That day, he changed all the settings on his tv’s in his entire apartment for dark mode, even all of his own personal devices. Finding it adorable that he went on a tangent when he found out certain apps don’t support dark mode and how he said it was discriminating. Finding it harder and harder for yourself to hide your soft smile as you watched him continue his rant, your heart swelling at how passionate he sounded. 

“I really like you, you know.” you admitted when he finally stopped complaining about how Mirosoft finally started supporting dark mode it was still ‘white paper’ on black ink so they really missed the whole point. 

“Oh yeah.” as he grabs you, pulling you towards him on the couch, tangling your legs with his. 

“Yup” popping the p for emphasis.

“I really like you too. Actually I was gonna ask you.. Wanna make this official and let me call you mine.” The blush was obvious on your face, immediately turning a light red shade, nodding your head he pulled you into a soft kiss. 

—---------------------------------------------

A few weeks later you were out to dinner with a few close friends and Trevor. Currently trying to tell a story about one of your new coworkers and how you didn’t like him but mid sentence you froze. Trevor had yet to see you freeze because the word you planned to say completely escaped you. Of course this wasn’t new to your friends as they saw the familiar signs, the way in which you paused, your lips pursed in a questioning way, your hand coming up and shaking knowing it was on the tip of your tongue and you just couldn’t think of it or couldn’t pronounce it. 

What your friends weren’t used to was seeing Trevor respond to it. His response to you struggling made all of them share a glance in approval of his small action. He took your shaking hand and slipped it into his own. Immediately your small flustered expression on your face turns to him. Your friends couldn’t hear what you were saying between yourselves if you were even talking at all, but they could see the care in Trevors eyes and how your frustration seemed to melt away.

“Hi” he whispers only for you to hear after a couple seconds pass. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Hi” 

“What are you trying to say?” repeating the same sentence that he asked you weeks ago when you asked him to get the milk out the fridge. 

“I can’t think of it.” a sigh leaving your lips. 

“Describe it.” His forehead resting on yours as you look into his eyes. 

“You know, like a red flag.” 

“Like in dating? So a slang term?” 

“I think.” Pausing for a few seconds for your brian to catch up. “But I know it’s not called a red flag, but it’s like it, I think, like when someone does something and immediately you're like ew.” 

“An ick?” he softly suggests. Immediately your mouth forms into an o-shape in shock, making his mouth twitch into the slightest smile. Kissing his check quickly and whispering a quick ‘thanks’ and turning back to your friends. 

“Okay so like this new dude thinks he can come in and just boss all me and my other co-workers around. That’s not even the worst part like not only is he lowkey sexist, he literally only wears highwaters, immediate ick…” Trevor sat there half listening to your story with a huge smile on his face, hand on your thigh drawing patterns subconsciously as he sipped on his drink. He loves listening to you talk, how you get lost in telling stories and he’s happy he was able to help you instead of you pushing it to the side like you did all those months ago. 

That’s how it is from that night on, anytime you text him and he can’t understand it, or you can’t think of a word, or butcher the pronunciation; he will simply turn to you and ask “What are you trying to say?” 

[cod-dump]

Step dad Graves is so so funny. Especially if they’re close in age and both secretly love it whilst putting up a fuss. Let Ghost collect father figures and Graves get to impart knowledge . Let Graves hate it at first then get some Ghost lore and be like “…I’m not your stepdad I’m only 6 years older than you…… what do you mean you never had a birthday cake…… what do you mean you were made to laugh at a dying prostitute…… “well guess I’m getting this man a skull cake and we’re playing catch in the yard

The more Graves learned about Ghost the harder it was to pretend he didn’t like him.

They were barely friendly when they worked together going after Hassan and Graves’ betrayal ruined whatever that was. Graves cutting ties with Shepherd and fully working with 141 (to atone for his past and right wrongs all while being able to still work) Ghost had greeted him with much expected hostility.

And Graves responded with indifference. He figured things would stay that way, Ghost would never let go what happened and Graves would never show any care for the man beyond comrades. But then Graves started learning bits and pieces about him, the longer they were around each other the more Ghost started to start talking to him with actual conversations instead of threats. That’s how Graves learned about his fear of snakes. The Ghost, the man who would pick up a fucking spider bare handed, an animal lover to the core, was terrified of snakes.

Graves discovered this during a mission together. They had spent that time in that forest in almost complete silence, waiting for Price to give them the go ahead, when the fearsome Ghost jolted where he laid, flinging something into the bushes nearby before moving away from the spot he had laid in without even moving an inch for two hours.

“Fucking devilish bitch!”

Graves saw the tail end of a snake darting away, and that was when he learned about Ghost’s fear. And that would open up to him learning a lot more about Ghost, more than he ever imagined due to their not so friendly work environment. He, of course, originally was going to taunt Ghost over his rather surprising fear, planning to exploit it until it was no longer effective.

But, of course, he would learn something else related to the snake. Ghost seemingly was deep in his mind after running in with the limbless creature, and he offered up a explanation for his irrational fear (irrational considering all the other creatures he adores).

“Old man liked to force them in my face. Thought how I squirmed was hilarious.”

And just like that, after that piece of information was processed, Ghost didn’t say another word. Graves was left with that piece of history involving Ghost he never expected to learn, let alone from Ghost himself. And after that, Ghost seemed to open up to him more. Graves would like to think he heard himself some leeway with Ghost by not going through with his original intentions on teasing him. It was the only thing that made sense as to why Ghost was starting to warm up to him.

Warming up to him to the point he was willingly offering up more of his lore.

“Don’t like crowds, especially not in dark places.”

He dropped that on another mission, completely unprompted. It was a mutter just for Graves to hear, even though Gaz wasn’t far away. That made something stir within him, something about Ghost just telling him something instead of a man who he is considerably much closer with. And that slight tug of his heart strings became pulling when he learned why he didn’t like crowds. And his old man was behind the reason as well.

The more Graves learned about Ghost, the more he hated his probably long dead father. There was a twisted similarity to Mr. Riley and Graves’ own father. And that just made him become protective of Ghost. He started treating Ghost like he did his Shadows. He was pretty much Shadow materiel with skill and efficiency, but now he was a Shadow to Graves because of what he went through.

Graves had a type he went for when recruiting Shadows. He looked for skill, experience, attitude �� But he also looked at their history. He has a soft spot for those with bad home lives, made him feel more connected with them. If he was looking over Ghost’s records with the intention of recruiting him into Shadow Company, man would’ve been a Shadow after he learned about Roba.

“Since when are you two friends?” Soap had questioned, Graves noticing the jealousy in his voice but also the curiosity.

“I can understand his accent better,” Ghost jabbed at Soap, his eyes squinting slightly to show he was smiling under his mask.

Soap made a very insulted gasp, “Oh, is that so?”

Graves felt at place finally, standing next to Ghost as he and Soap bickered. It turned playful rather quickly and Graves felt more at ease next to Soap than he had since they first met. And, dare he even think it, Ghost felt comfortable standing next to him. Finally opening up, finally dropping his metaphorical mask of hostility (Graves doubts he’ll take off his actual mask any time soon).

And, of course Price noticed. He noticed a while back, Graves knows he had. Man knows anything that has to do with his boys, especially Ghost. He hadn’t said a word, never hinted in any way to show he knew. He just acted like it had always been. It was like he wasn’t even surprised. Goes to show he knew Ghost was better than anyone.

“Good to see you two finally getting along,” Price said to Graves one evening, the two had long retired to bed while the boys stayed up playing cards (not UNO, they would be enemies before morning and it would take a few days to get them to drop the pettiness).

Graves hummed, taking a moment to realize what Price was talking about. He didn’t expect him to say anything without Graves mentioning it first.

“We’re tolerating each other.”

Price hummed back, slight smirk on his lips. He knew. He knew that Graves considers Ghost as one of his Shadows. As one of his boys.

[npdzane]

I think the fandom of Ninjago should talk about Zane's fear of losing his humanity and his fear of any negative emotion in general. And how they contradict each other.

(warning, yap sesh ahead) TLDR: can nindroids get therapy? If so we need 5 therapists for Zane immediately

It's already established that Zane has a fear of being seen as just a machine, nothing but a freezer with fake coded emotions. But I haven't seen anyone talk in depth how he seems to turn off his emotions whenever he's faced with grief or stress, and how he only learnt to not do that far into his life.

He probably picked up that habit from when Dr. Julien turned off his memory switch before "dying" back in season 1. And he realized that if he went so long not feeling bad about the "death" of his creator by simply not remembering it or not having the actual emotion of grief, he wouldn't feel bad either when anything similar happened if he just turned off his emotions like Dr. Julien did to him.

The fact this lasted as long as it did meant nobody picked up on it* and tried to tell him he was wrong. Which only validated that idea because if there was a problem with it, someone would've told him..right?

But how can you say you don't want to lose your sense of humanity as a robot while simultaneously doing something humans can't whenever you're faced with stress? I'd say he'd overthink it, and feel guilty about not being honest with himself. He knows hes being irrational, but hes still terrified of the thought of no one seeing him as a person.

But at the same time, he's never been taught how to face stress by himself. Only for other people. It's not like he just doesn't know that ignoring your feelings is a way to avoid the problem and a bad coping mechanism, he obviously knows that. He probably just doesn't know any other solutions because his situation is so niche.

Because how could anyone not want what he has? In his position, he probably feels as if everyone would kill to be a nindroid. Since nobody tells him otherwise. We even see clips where the others use Zane's robot body as a joke or in one case, use him as a fucking cleaning robot. Can you imagine how dehumanizing it must feel for someone to be forced against their will like a puppet into doing a weeks worth of chores?

Zane probably feels as if his fears are irrational. Like he shouldn't have them because being a nindroid seems to be the only thing that others care about when they see him. He's a logical person for sure, but everyone has irrational thoughts and unless you face the reason you have those thoughts they aren't going to go away and they'll cloud your judgement. Zane, for sure, is not doing that. Because we can see he just simply forces himself to stop having emotions when they happen instead of facing them, which only fixes it temporarily.

So hes afraid of being seen as just a freezer with fake emotions (i have more to say about the "fake emotions" part), and because he doesn't face his feelings about why hes afraid of that he lets himself believe that is how people see him. Which causes him to think that fear is stupid and that he shouldn't have it, which makes him turn off his emotions for a while, and the cycle continues.

He also might believe his emotions arent needed. Like maybe at some point he convinces himself that if everyone else only sees him as a calculator with ice powers, maybe that's what he actually is. So on top of everything, he feels like since hes only a computer, all his emotions are fake. Therefore unnecessary.

Not to mention he most likely feels as if he's weak for letting Vex manipulate him. And emotions = weak, weak = manipulated again, manipulated again = letting everyone down. But thats just a little thought i had to let out.

If i could write I'd probably make a fic about him being confronted by this fear, but until then it'll stay in my brain.

Poor boy. Just look at him. He doesn't deserve this bro AUUGIGUGJGJGGHHGHHHH IM AUTISTIC 🥹

Edit: *i rewatched crystalized today and realized the other ninja ARE aware of Zanes habit. They just dont gaf 😭WHICH MAKES IT WORSE!!!

[littlemspeachy]

Crazy In Love (Pt.II to Crazy for Loving you)

(Feyd x Reader)

Summary: You still found him strange, but he's a bit hotter when he keeps staring at you and visiting at times he shouldn't be.

Note: This thing is long as hell! Also once again there are some mentions towards what you look like but nothing specific. Also also, this is my first-time writing smut.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, smoking, drinking, mentions of blood wine, cursing. Feyd being a bit OOC

Word Count: 7.53K

Part I

------

You walked with your family to a glass box that over saw the colosseum. You knew their customs fairly well. You read a lot, but you learned better by watching and doing. Which is why you were so shocked to see such a big colosseum so, rudimentary. So basic, so plain. Truly if he was such a good fighter there should have been more spectacle and challenge. Especially since this challenge was apparently in your honor.

You stared boredly as the crowd roared for their best and famed fighter. A part of you desperately wanted to roll your eyes, but unfortunately the Baron was watching your every move while in front of him. And while you didn't necessarily fear him. You feared the consequences brought on by his arrogance.

However, the mornings events you found yourself more and more intrigued by your husband to be. Not him mentally but him physically. You wanted more of it. More of him.

"Sister, are you ok?" Paul asked quietly, coming to sit besides you and hand you a glass of a clear colored liquid.

You looked over at your brother and sent a small smile. "I'm fine.. Just.. amazed at how basic their gladiator fights are." You whispered silently before taking a sip of the liquid.

Paul siffled a laugh at your commentary. "It's all for you." 

"Never knew I was that important." 

"Of course you're important. At the moment you're the most powerful person in this place." 

You glanced over slightly at your brother. A part of you appreciates that he realizes the weight of your situation. But a part of you feels jealous. He would never have to go through this. Marry for the sake of this kingdom. He would never be forced into a marriage and be forced to produce an heir. He could do whatever he wanted. Marry into some high family and then have his consorts on the side. 

You shook your head lightly. There was no point in getting angry at him, you knew the fate of your kingdom if you were not to marry. But it also wasn't just the fate of your homeland, it was also the fate of Lady Jessica and the Bene Gesserit. It needed to happen.

"I wonder who his opponents will be." Paul wondered aloud.

"Probably some fallen soldiers captured in war." You responded, eyes never leaving the arena. 

You watched as a group of men slowly walked out of some panels. It was clear they were drunk or drugged by their reactions to the paleness of the arena and the roar of the crowds. 

Oh, how strong and mighty of him to fight drunken soldiers. There's no honor in that, no actual fight in that. Just blood and show. You became disgusted at the thought. What has to happen to a people to enjoy watching drugged soldiers be slaughtered. To strip them of their honor in such a way. It was not a show a strength but just another show of ego raising. 

6 versus 1. Through numbers alone that was interesting until you remember that he is one of the best fighters in the known universe. 

And blow after blow, slice after slice. One man fallen after another, he stood victorious, knife in hand pushed towards the darkened sun with minimal damage to his porcelain skin. Only minor cuts and bruises.

As unamused as the rational part of you was. The irrational part just wondered how'd he'd feel under you. How'd he sounds injured. You knew he liked blood.. But what about his own? 

"He is our crowned fighter. You should be thankful he's marrying you and not fighting you on the battlefield." The Baron said watching you get up and pouring yourself another drink.

You let out a light hum before giving the Baron a small smile. "I'm quite thankful you have agreed and blessed this marriage. So that I do not have to see him on the battlefield." 

You drowned your drink before walking with the rest of your family to the guest wing. ''You're mother,"

"She's not my mother, father."

He sighed before starting again. "Lady Jessica has trained you well. I would've just not spoken." He finished with a chuckle. 

You let a sigh before looking up at your father. "You know I was never one to stay silent. Fortunately, I've learned when to speak and when to stary quite."

Duke Leto smiled at you before giving you a small hug. "You always got in trouble as a little girl for that." 

You smiled solemnly as you walked closer you your room. "Tonight is the engagement dinner and tomorrow you're handing me off." You said sadly, you grabbed his hands into yours and raised on your feet to kiss your father on the cheek. 

"When I come back, you'll have a grandchild. Or children." You said with a watery smile. 

"Well, that's something to look forward too. No matter who the father is," He responded smiling back at you. 

"You must go get ready; dinner will be soon." 

You smiled and walked into your room. You shut the door gently before your shoulders fell. It was time, it was truly time. 

"Why are you crying." 

You snapped up your head and roughly swallowed. "What?"

You stared at him in your tub. His hands caressing the black-lined sides. He tilted his head sideways, eyes never leaving you. 

"I'm not crying. I was-" 

"Well, you were about to cry. I've never seen a woman cry in that context. Whoever makes you cry like that, tell me so that I may slit their throat and have their tongue for dinner." He said pointedly. 

A part of you wanted to be disgusted but the other half of you was speaking without thinking. 

"And what if you make me cry like that? Can I have your heart for dinner?" You stated raising your brow. Something about this man made you and your tongue reckless and dangerous. 

"You have a dangerous tongue." 

"You should see what else this tongue can do." You shot back quickly, your feet placing themselves right near the tub. 

He stared at you with a smirk turning into a smile. Before pushing himself out of the tub. 

The urge to look down was starting to become a harder fight so you looked up into one of the corners of your chambers. 

He laughed at you while wrapping a towel on his lower half. His chest still sparkling with water. 

"Aw, so confident. I know Lady Jessica didn't raise you that way." 

"No, it's a family trait." 

"Speaking without thinking no wonder, you got yourself into this position. Coming from a house so powerful... yet so.. stupid." He said with a smirk.

Anger rushed through you like a hot wave. You hand whipped out and your fingers found themselves wrapped tightly around his throat. 

You stared at him sharply. "Don't you ever talk about my family." 

Instead of pulling away from your grasp he simply laughed and closed the distance between the two of you. A part of him had to admit, you did have a good grip. Too bad your hands weren't strong enough to seal the deal.  

"You must feel so powerful right now," He whispered in your ear before tugging slightly on it with his teeth.  "To be fair, you're very sexy when you're angry. Remind me to rile you up before our wedding night. I want to see how well you can choke me while I fuck you." He said softly, kissing down your neck and shoulders with each word. The hand around his neck found it's place on his shoulder, your head leaning up to give him more room.

"Or maybe better yet, I tease you all night. Bind you up till you're in tears." He whispered again, massaging your hips through your satin dress. Your body betraying the rational part of your brain and trying to find something to grind on. 

"My lady it's," You maid, Minnie, gasped at the scene and dropped the dresses in her hands. "I apologize. I'll be outside."  She muttered, slamming the door behind her. 

You let out a shaky breath, reality washing over you. You pushed yourself away from the man, blinking quickly. "We're not married yet, and I have a dinner I must prepare for-" You rambled as you picked up the dresses. Unfortunately, Feyd still had other ideas. He walked quickly behind you before slamming your bodies to against the doors of your chamber. Quickly finding his way through your dress and to your bare breast. 

"Oh, come on you don't want it to end now." He said alternating between kissing and sucking on your neck. 

You couldn't think straight, but at the same time this is all you been dreaming about since the first encounter in your room. 

You threw you head back on to his shoulder and grinded yourself on his thigh. The pleasure sparkling through your system. 

He kneaded your breast found a spot on your neck that ripped a guttural moan from you.  "Please Feyd.. I'll let you have me in all the ways we can think of, but we must get through this wedding." 

He stopped his ministrations and you wanted to curl into yourself to ignore how badly you wanted this to continue. 

"I have to admit, you're going to make a wonderful ruler someday." 

You opened your eyes and turned slightly to look at the man you were leaning on. Blue eyes met yours and for the first time your worries about your marriage were fully away from your mind. 

"Thank you, my lord." You said with a sheepish smile.  

He gave you a small smirk before pushing you away from him and leaving the room. 

You stood there in shock trying to regain your breath and still your heartbeat. But your maid rushed in with wide eyes startling you. 

"My lady what was that? You are not yet married; it is impolite for you to be alone with him. Your wedding is in a day. You must control yourself." She said slyly before bursting into giggles. 

You stared at her with wide eyes but couldn't help but smile. "Oh, Minnie be quiet. This may not get out to my mother. Do you understand me." 

"Yes ma'am." Minnie said with a small curtsy before setting the pieces of your dresses down on your bed and walking over to your vanity, to get you prepared for the evening.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The white cotton fabric twisting over your neck, with an empire waistline. The corset underneath pushing your breast up making them look pillow like. The dress was flowy and had frills that reminded you of the ocean. It had a low back which allowed for Minnie to add a painted white snake to the vast skin on your back. Your hair was slicked back into a simple braided ponytail. With large circular gold hoops that had pearl teardrops at the bottom. 

You were running late and had one of your guards walk you to the dining hall. This was, potentially, the most stressful dinner of your life, it had to go well. 

Your guard left you before you walked into the room, silence taking over. You were stunning, a sight to be seen. Minnie made sure to rub you down in a rosy and musky perfume oil that one could smell from halls away and made sure your skin glowed in the black and white lighting. 

You gave both families present an apologetic bow.  "I apologize for running late, the maids forgot my clothing." You lied. 

You walked quickly yet gracefully to your side of the table in-between Lady Jessica and Paul. The more powerful men at the table sitting opposite of you three. 

"I should off them for wasting your time." 

"I'd rather you not." You said quickly, bringing your wine goblet to your lips. You stared at Feyd while you sipped your wine, and he watched while he ate a grape; your eye contact unbreakable.

Paul and his father shared a glance while silence filled the dining hall. 

You weren't going to be the first to break contact but, you were the smart one in this battle and looked down at your plate. 

You quietly drank your wine and shook your head slightly in amusement. The man you were going to marry was nothing more than what he appeared as: a man. A violent man that was very sadistic, sure. But a man with an ego that had never been checked and was raised on a planet where the amount of blood you spilled was equal to one's ego. How simple. You had to fully admit now however, is that you were fully attracted to the man. He lit a fire in you that you honestly don't want to put out. 

A part of you is slightly shocked that he wanted you. Not in a 'does he think I'm pretty way' but in a 'I will do whatever it takes to make you feel pleasure and scream my name way.' Honestly, he's quite giving. 

"And how did you think of my nephews fighting." The baron asked bringing you out of your thought spiral. 

You glanced at him quickly before turning to the baron. "To speak openly my lord, I believe he deserves more of a challenge. For such a skilled fighter there should be more obstacles in his way. The battlefield is littered with items to dodge and jump over. I believe it would show the universe how.. skilled.. of a fighter he is. It's also better entertainment." You stated confidently and slowly. 

Your eyes scanned the table, and you felt the nails of Lady Jessica dig into your thigh. You smiled at the Baron. "I used to study the arts, my lord, and creating entertainment is one of my many past times." 

The baron was going to respond but was cut off by the introduction of foods. Now this was something you studied for. Instead of the tradition six course meal they had three or four if you consider outrageous amounts of drinking after the main dining event. Fruits and wine as the first meal, the main meat and assorted breads as the second, and sweets in the form of wine or actual food as the third. Truly a bit basic, but it makes sense for a house that prides itself on its fighting skills instead of their hospitality. 

Chicken breast, steaks, salmons, and tuna tartare; various vegetables high in fiber and breads high in whole grains. You scoffed to yourself as you made your plate. Of course, a planet that valued fighters would have the highest quality proteins and vegetables brought in from other planets. You carefully picked out an assortment of foods and ate quietly. You wished there was some sort of music or something to fill the silence. It was a very uncomfortable silence yet you were pretty sure Lady Jessica would be the one to kill you first if you said something, so you remained quiet.

"At least it's actual meat. I thought they'd feed us human remains." Paul voice said in your head.

You glanced at your brother. "Please, they're at least trying to remain civil, I'm surprised we haven't been forced to drink blood yet." You responded in your head forcing your face to remain neutral. 

"Who knows. I read in the books that they used to do that one their wedding day." Paul mentioned, causing you to glance over at your brother. 

"Please no. I hate pain." 

"That sucks for you considering the family you're marrying into." 

You let out a small sigh and drank your wine. Or what you assumed was wine. It wasn't sweet, but certainly not dry. Almost like a pomegranate or a cherry, 

"I must say your wine, is excellent." You said politely while filling up your plate with more rice and salmon.

 "It's a mix of blood and pomegranate. Blood for the protein and fruit to sweeten." Feyd responded. 

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from gagging. From beside you a deep sigh came from Paul to still himself from laughing. You made eye contact with your equally shocked father before going back to your food. 

That is when you learned that you should stop asking and commentating on things. 

The main course was taken away from the table and you were told that dessert would be eaten in the guest room. 

The walls were lit with soft white-grey lighting, with glass doors leading to the balcony. Cigars, hookah, and dark liquor lined the tables. You quickly walked outdoors with your brother on your heels.

He quickly slid out a pack of cigarettes from his pockets. "It's a mix." He mentioned before lighting it and handing it to you. You took a deep inhale before a breath and watched the smoke leave your mouth. 

You passed it over and Paul took a breath before a cough came out. "I don't know you do both spice and nicotine." 

You rolled your eyes in amusement. "It's not even that much. Just enough to take the edge off." 

The two of you looked at each other before laughing. "Blood my ass." 

That sent your brother into another fit of laughter. "This is why I don't drink."  

"No.. Instead, you sleep with your maid." You laughed. 

Paul looked at you shocked before shooting back "Oh, speaking of sleeping with people,"

You let out a load groan knowing what he was going to ask. 

"Is that why you're soon to be walked out of your room naked?" 

You took in a breath of your cigarette. "No. And plus, he wasn't naked he had a towel." 

Paul grabbed the cigarette out of your hand and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what people where when they were previously naked." 

You looked at him with wide eyes before laughing. "No, he was taking a bath in my room for some reason." 

"He wanted you to join." 

You stared at him and the smoke whipping around his face due to a gust of wind. "I did not join him. You would've though. Your morals are very loose." 

Paul gasped at you and lightly hit your shoulder before the two of you turned around and looked inside at your family talk to your soon to be in-laws. 

You watched Feyd prepare a cigar for your father and pour the baron a drink. You would never tell your brother, but you wanted Feyd badly. You wanted his lips and fingers on your skin. You wanted to be on top of him. You were ashamed. Not at your feelings but because you had feelings for such a twisted man. But you wanted him deeply. 

You took in a sharp breath realizing out empty your lungs have been. "I'm going for a drink." 

"Hopefully not blood again. The last thing I need is you coming back and craving the taste of blood." Paul said sarcastically before dropping the cig and stomping on it. 

You rolled your eyes in amusement and went over to the bar to pour yourself what you assumed was whiskey. 

"I wouldn't have taken you for a drinker." A voice asked next to you. 

"I personally prefer cocktails, but straight is fine as well." You said not looking at the man. 

"And a smoker as well. We all this work to make sure of your pregnancy went well and yet here you are submitting to such basic desires." 

You swirled your glass a couple of times before downing it, not responding to the accusation. The heat of the alcohol and a heat of his voice spreading through you. 

"With the way you behave I'm pretty sure I'll end of pregnant regardless." You said dryly and without much thought. 

He stared at you shocked. He's never had someone address him in such a manner. "You always surprise me." He said pouring you another drink. 

"You don't surprise me. You're as horny as a 16-year-old boy hiding pictures under your bed," You said turning to face him and picking up your newly filled glass. 

"But then again you grew up motherless so I'm not that surprised you get everything you want." 

That was a low blow, and you knew it. You had no idea if he actually had parents or not but either way a part of you wanted to test how angry he could get at you. 

"Well, our children would have a mother. Would you not give them everything they want." He said smoothly. No anger detected. A part of you was a bit disappointed.

You lifted the glass to your lips pondering the question. "Our children will need to know how to rule. They need to be strong enough to make decisions but levelheaded enough to know when diplomacy beats war. If it's a personal need they can get it, but their wants come after their people. They need to understand they rule a people, not just themselves." You stated softly before once again throwing back your drink and going to find your brother or father. 

Feyd stayed where he was and watched your figure move about the room. He would never tell anyone this, but he hated the idea of this marriage when it was first proposed. Killed many teachers and servants over it. But you. Gods, you. You were the most intelligent and beautiful person he'd ever met. And Gods, he wanted you more than ever. He had his concubines "sent away" after the first meeting. Which he now thinks wasn't the best decision, he needed a release, and his hand wasn't the perfect solution. 

He wasn't the kind for marriage, but he understood like you, unless he was married his father would never allow him to take the crown because there was no way to insure a legitimate heir. A worthy heir. Yet here you were. Forcing yourself into his life. And he wouldn't change a thing. 

The night came and went and the next thing you know you were getting awakened by Minnie to bath and prep for the wedding. 

You sighed as you stepped into the soapy warm water. The aroma of incense sticks and bath oils fully relaxing you. "I don't know what I'd do without you Minnie. You sighed as she put a detangling shampoo through your curly hair. 

"And you won't, your father put in word for me to stay here with you and keep up your usual beauty maintenance." She said scrubbing your scalp. 

You sighed contently before grabbing a net sponge and scrubbing down your arms. 

Minnie finished washing your hair and divided your hair in sections before coming to your side and applying an exfoliator to your freshly washed arms. 

"Minnie, may you put some music I need something to fill the silence." 

She nodded before going over to your alarm and pressing play. Thousands of songs of been collected and put on to your alarm and all that had to be done was press play. It played different songs depending on the time of day. Plenty of songs from ancient earth. 

The sounds of violins and pianos softly filled the air putting you at peace. The only thing breaking it was the sound of your door opening and closing revealing Lady Jessica in her morning robes.

Minnie bowed at the Lady before coming back and helping you in the bath. 

She stared at you before letting out a deep sigh. "I've prepared you for this moment since you were a child and yet here, we are. I don't think I will ever fully understand you and your ways, but I do believe that you'll make a fine wife to the na-baron. Just promise you'll come back after you have your child. I would love to meet them. 

You sent the older woman a smile. "Of course, I'd want them to meet and see their homeland. I'd also think dad would be awfully jealous if we do her christening here." 

Lady Jessica sent you a small smile before her face become somber again. "I will see you later." 

You sent her a small smile as she left the room. You and Minnie finished your bath in silence. 

"My lady, shall you have more cigarette while I do your final waxing?" 

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head when you remembered. "Yes." 

Minnie laughed before going to a beauty box that sat your vanity and pulled out a cigarette and your favorite lighter. "Light it one last time miss." 

You laughed and lit your last cigarette and took a deep breath. The smoke playing with the white lights in your room. 

You looked over a minnie getting her wax supplies ready. "Are you ready miss?" 

You puffed the air out of your lungs and held the cigarette between two fingers while you nodded.

You winced but stayed calm. The spice in the cigarette calming your body. 

Minnie finished her job before putting on a facemask and starting your nails.

 "Why are they do pointy?" 

"To mark your man of course." She said with a giggle without looking up at your shocked face. 

You wanted to be shocked, but the spice was still rolling through you and made your mind conjure up way too many delicious images in your mind. 

"Um my lady? Would you like a design?" Minnie asked checking over your cuticles and making sure the shape of the nails.

 A marble would be nice, a nice red and black." 

She wiped the mask off your face before starting on the nail color. 

The sun was fully risen, and the music had changed to some more upbeat songs that the two of you sung to as your brother walked through the door and slammed face down on to your bed. 

You looked over to your brother confused. "What's going on." 

Somehow and someway, your husband, managed to have a conversation that has managed to turn to a drinking game. It's 9 in the morning. Your wedding is in three hours. I cannot be out there." Your brother complained, voice muffled by the bed. 

You and minnie laughed at his predicament. 

"Um what do you think we're doing." 

"You're light drinking because you're responsible." He sighed before coming to your vanity looking for a cigarette. When he was lucky in his findings, he lit it and turned around and leaned on your vanity before lighting it.

Minnie stared at you in the mirror before going back to detangling your hair with a blow dryer. The three of you stayed in a comfortable silence. 

"When I am setting her curls would you like me to do yours? You too need to look presentable at the wedding. The emperor and the princess will be there." Minnie mentioned looking at the boy. 

"I- That'll be great Minnie, thanks."  He said deeply sighing and taking another drag. 

You went back to humming the music playing in the background before looking over at your brother. 

"You'll miss me huh." 

He looked down on you. "Of course I will. Now all the attention will be on me, I don't- I don't do well in the spotlight and you know that." He said before tapping the ashes and passing it over to you. 

You nodded in agreement. While he's a good fighter and a fast and strategic thinker he wasn't much of a diplomatic person. He didn't work well with slow moving plans and thinking of treaties and how things would fall in place. He was good with the here and now. Good at winning. You were good a diplomacy and thinking into the future. You were good at hearing the plans and finding a place for everyone, even the nonfighters. Not that you weren't a good fighter. You were strong and clear headed and could very easily defend yourself. Wonderful in hand-to-hand combat. The benefit on your side being that because people thought you were a woman they thought you as small and gentle. But when angered. May the Gods help them. 

She put the rollers in your hair and a net before shooing you away to another chair to start your makeup and skincare. 

A knock at your day scared you all out of your gentle silence and you went to go answer. A small woman, equally pale and bald pushed a cart with food into your room. "Breakfast my lady." She muttered. head bowed and not looking you in the face. 

"Thank you." You said with a small smile. 

She nodded before leaving the room. 

You pushed the cart towards the vanity and Paul grabbed what looked like a piece of bacon. "Geeze what was that about." 

You shrugged and poured yourself some milk and got yourself a small assortment of bread and meats. You mind was trying to wrap around how badly they treated their servants. Sure, no matter how well you treated the servants, they were still servants. Their lives still came secondary to yours, but they were still human beings to be treated with respect and dignity. You shook your head and finished your meal in silence. 

Minnie finished Paul's hair just as you finished brushing your teeth and making sure none of the water got on your freshly made face. 

"Ok! Let's get your hair done then you're dress on, then I will clean this room and prep your items to be moved. Minnie said patting your shoulders. 

Paul got bored of watching Minnie do your hair, so he gave you a kiss on the cheek and then went to go get ready. 

You sat in silence while she put the last hairpins in place. The food sobered you up so there was nothing to stop the nerves from bubbling. 

"You'll be fine. And from what I've seen the na-baron is just as interested in you as you are him. You're going to make a fine queen. Plus, I'll be here with you so if you ever need someone to talk to, you can pull me aside and I can grab a bottle of wine." Minnie said softly giving you a smile at the mirror. 

You walked over to where your dress was ready and stepped in it. It was rather basic. A simple white dress with a black lined A-line neckline and laced bell sleeves that came off the shoulder and stopped at your wrist. The coreset underneath connected to black laced garters. An emerald necklace with three smaller jewels on the side and a bigger, teardrop shaped one, in the middle. the band filled with smaller diamonds. Your earrings being irregular shaped pearls harvested at sea right by the castle. 

The fourth knock of the day. Your father. "Come in!" 

Your father stepped in and smiled at you. "You look beautiful my love." 

You walked over to him and gave him a tight hug. "I'll miss you." 

"I'm not gone yet." He whispered into your hair. 

Minnie stood two the side with the wedding veil in her hands. It was long and took hours to mend. It was passed down through the generations. 

"You are the product of a strong kingdom. You were raised to be strong and kind. You are going to make a wonderful leader and wife." He said pulling from you and looking you in the eyes. 

You gave him a small smile before he leaned down and kissed you gently on the forehead. "Now let's get your veil on and get to your wedding." 

You stopped the tears from falling as the fabric was placed on your head and over your eyes. Minnie pinned it in place before nodding to your father. 

He took your arm into his and walked you out the room. Minnie quickly grabbing your dress from behind and lifting it. 

You walked silently to the great hall in which you were to be married. The three of you stopping as you approached the door. Your dad gently passed you a ring box. It was tradition for both the man and the woman to exchange rings signifying the marriage and alliance between the two families. 

You took it in your hand and nodded at him. The guards surrounding you nodded in confirmation and opening the door. 

The soft sound of violins filled the air, and the families present rose. You held your head up and squared your back as you were trained and walked with your father down the aisle. 

You couldn't see very clearly but you could see Feyd and the officiator standing at the end. This was your end and yet you're beginning.  

The music came to a slow ended as you took your spot in the front. 

"Today ladies and gentlemen we witness the union of Feyd-Rutha Harkonnen of Giedi Prime and (Y/N) Atreides of Caladan. A marriage that solidifies and binds the allegiance of these two kingdoms. After the reciting of their vows, they shall exchange rings that solidify their marriage. Lady Atreides, do you have your vows."

Vows were something that you had very much not prepared. You nodded before joining hands with Feyd. 

"I, (Y/N) Atreides, swear to honor my husband and stand beside him in life and death, sickness and health. I swear to produce and raise an air honorable to the Harkonnen family. To honor and protect our love. I swear to you Feyd-Rutha that I will stay by your side as long as I physically am able to." You said confidently and slowly, words ringing out over the hall. 

"Lord Feyd-Rutha Harkonnen, do you have your vows?" 

He nodded towards the officiator and turned fully towards you. "And I Feyd-Rutha Harkonnen swear to protect you, your honor and kill for your honor till the day I die. I swear to be yours and by your side from this day on until I die. To serve you and our children till death. I, Feyd-Rutha Harkonnen, am yours as long as I breath." 

You took a deep breath. Aggressive, you knew. Egotistical, you knew. Romantic, or at least as romantic as he could physically be a shock to your very core. 

"The rings." 

Feyd dug into his pocket which you reached into your dress while you presented the rings to each other. Both rings with each families branding on the sides of each ring. He slid your gently over your ring finger and you did the same to him. 

"With the power invested in me, I know pronounce you husband and wife." 

A small smile graced your face as Feyd gently lifted your veil. He pressed a small yet passionate kiss on your lips before turning to the audience and lifting your interlocked hands to show your union. 

You two were the first to leave the hall. 

You smirked at him slightly while you quickened your pace, following his quick strides. "I thought I was going to get more." 

He stopped and turned to you. "I would've but fortunately I have a bit of shame. Or else i would've taken you right there." He said darkly. His eyes filled with lust. 

"Oh." Was all you managed to let out before following his walk again. 

You pushed through two doors, to a bedroom you assumed was his. Before he slammed you against the door and kissed you like a man drowning and you were his oxygen supplies 

You couldn't help but moan at his hands sliding down and feeling your body. He broke with a sigh followed by a needy moan coming from you. "Get out of your dress before I cut you out of it." He demanded. 

You swallowed before unzipping the sides and letting the dress fall to the grown leaving your undergarments. Feyd unpinning your corset while you unpinned the veil from your head. The two items falling at the same time. 

He let out a guttural groan seeing your breast fall from their lifted place in your corset. He dropped to his knees and groped one in one hand and sucked on the other. The sensations of him alternating between sucking and nipping your nipple had your head fall back and small quick breathless moans come from your throat. 

He switched sides and deeply inhaled the scent of roses, nicotine and spice. God, he had heard of men going crazy simply over a women's scent, but he never knew how addicting it could've been in real life, in his very hands.

Between the sucking and groping, the flames and need of want was making your head lightheaded and your core crave. Unfortunately, his hands had you pinned against the wall, so your body resorted to grinding on any piece of him you could find. The added sensation of the grinding and the friction of lace underwear, you making you see stars. Gods, what an odd place to cum but that's all you were chasing at this point romance be damned. 

"Don't stop. Please don't stop." You moaned loudly, trying to find something to hold to. Feyd moaned at you trying to get off and the vibrations of against your nipple finally gave you relief. Your back arched and toes curled in their socks. Your orgasmed continued to wash over you, causing your legs to shake and Feyd to gently bring you down to the ground. He watched you catch your breath for two seconds before he found himself tackled to the ground with your chest on his and one leg lodged between yours. You kissed him hard and passionately before grinding yourself down on his leg again. Shocks from each grind making every nerve sparkle in your body. That's when you got the smart idea to kiss down his neck and leave a mark where everyone could see. 

A question was on Feyd's lips before a moan came out when you bit down and began to suck and roll the skin between your teeth. He pulled your hips down and grinded into you. Your eyes rolled hear the beautiful sounds coming from him. Gods it was the most beautiful thing in your life, and it was also, somehow, turning you on even further. 

"Please, baby please." Feyd moaned trying to get you to pause your ministrations. He realized you weren't going to stop so he paused and flipped you over. 

You stared breathlessly and wide-eyed at this change in position. "If you do not stop I will take you right here on this floor, do you understand." He whispered tapping your nose. And instead of a verbal response you simply lifted your head and took his finger in your mouth and gave it a hard suck.

Any resolve Feyd had completely broke as he dropped in body weight onto you and bit into your neck ripping a whine out of you. Feyd wanted, no, needed to be in you. But he knew he needed to prepare you. He removed his finger from your mouth before giving you a hard kiss. Teeth and tongue clashing messily clashing in a frenzied passion. He left your mouth and began kissing downwards. First on your neck, then the hickey forming on your neck. Slowly between your cleavage and beneath your breast before he kissed your clit through your underwear. 

"Please Feyd, please." You whined as your hands scratched his shoulders. Your nails filling their role when you realized the shiver that went down his spine. But luckily, he wanted this as much as you did so he wasted no time in taking off your garters and underwear before subjecting you to the heat of his tongue. 

He groaned at how wet you were before going to suck on your clit. His arms locking and holding your thighs in place. He was going to eat you like his last meal and he was starved, his tongue going between sucking and licking you. 

You let out a choked sob, the pleasure making your hands bang the floor and tears spring from your eyes. You tried to move your hips but you were shaking too much and he was far too strong and had a firm grip on your thighs. "Oh my Gods." 

He smirked to himself and gave your thighs a quick kiss. He loved your thighs he thought to himself. Big, round and warm. Seeing you naked beneath him made him want to give you enough children to build an army. Beautiful hips for him to hold, Gods he was blessed to have married someone as beautiful as you. But that was enough admiring before he went back to your clit and added a finger to your core. 

"Gods. Fuck, fuck, fuck," You gasped as felt his finger. But it wasn't enough. "Add another finger." 

He hummed against you before adding another finger and hitting a spot that made a silent scream be ripped from your lungs. Quick gasps were the only thing bringing air into your lungs. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head while your nails dug into his shoulder making him moan onto you. However, the pleasure was getting to you and you started to push him away. 

He left your clit and came back to give you small kisses. He was hard as a rock and if he were a lesser man probably would've came at least once by now. But he was not a lesser man, he was a better man, the best man. And he wouldn't come until he was in you. 

When you finally came to, you too stared at each other in deadline. Feyd was going to compliment you before you stopped. "I need you to fuck me now." You mumbled your hands reaching down to his to his pants attempting to take them off. 

He smirked at you before taking every off quickly. Desire rocked through you again when you saw his lower half. 

You would have never admitted this to anyone, not even yourself. But you would give him an army of kids if he kept this act up. 

He claimed in between your legs and stroked himself one more time before positioning himself and slowly pushing in. 

Yep. Definitely an army of kids. He wouldn't even need to ask. It would just happen. 

You gasped a moan before whipping your hands to his waist. 

He dropped his head to your shoulder. "Babe, I need you to calm down." He whispered. He said he was a better man, but you were proving to him that he was no different than any other. He wasn't even fully in yet and yet you two were about to become parents. 

Unfortunately for him, you realized this, and the rational part of your brain wanted to humble him and make a mess of him. So, in his ecstasy filled daze you managed to flip the two of you over and sank fully down onto his cock. 

The two of you gasped, heat filling the both of you. You found leverage on his chest before pushing yourself up and creating a rhythm that had the both of you seeing stars. 

He stared at you above him in wonder and awe. He would give you anything you asked and anything you wanted. He'd kill a god for you if you asked. Every story about jealous men killing in their wives honor made so much sense. 

You slowed significantly enough for Feyd to bring you down and his knees up to keep thrusting into you. The finish line was so close and the moans in his ears made him the fastest man alive. 

He groaned one more time and it was over for you. Your core clamping down and your third orgasm washing over you like a monsoon and his first hitting him like an earthquake, cum filling you and hopefully bringing the seeds for a child. Fresh tears sprang from your eyes at the beauty of it all. Heartbeats beating wildly out of control, sweat dripping off your bodies and onto the floor. 

He pulled out gently causing a whimper to come from you. You stayed on top of him, and he placed his arms around you. Silence filling the air. 

No one said a word before you started to get grossed out at the feeling of your sweat. You dragged yourself to a standing position and walked yourself over to the bath and started some water. You ungracefully slid into the tub and watched the dark liquid come out. 

"Black water?" You asked the naked man infront of you.

"It has healing properties." 

You nodded in standing as you watched the liquid fill the tub. 

"Move forward." He asked softly.

You moved and felt the man come into the tub behind you. The two of you sat in blissful silence completely ignoring the reception being held in your honor. 

However, your guest did not forget. Sitting comfortably in the guest meeting hall that held your family after yesterday's dinner.  

"Where's my sister." Paul asked the princess. She glanced at the boy before rolling her eyes. "Making babies." 

Paul looked at her in disgust before walking away to find his father leaving Princess Irulan to roll her eyes in amusement. 

[keisobe]

── ˚ ༘♡ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 (𝐀𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝟐)

ᥫ᭡ mini headcanons on what it’s like for the sully brothers to date someone / have a crush on someone

characters. neteyam sully + lo’ak sully

notes. this was something random i wanted to do to flesh out their characters (in my own way). i hope you guys enjoy my some of my ideas (๑´`๑)♡ + not proofread

neteyam .° ᭡ ❤︎

whenever he has a crush, he’s in denial of his feelings. neteyam has a lot on his plate already to feel these emotions, that he just ignores it and hope it doesn’t get to him. but oh, the feelings only get stronger. neteyam struggles to come into terms with liking someone, so give him time and don’t push him.

neteyam wants you to make the first move. one thing he prides himself on is his ability to be a leader and a warrior, but not dating. he wants to make sure you actually like him before he’s ready to share his feelings. like his mother, he would beat around the bush with his feelings and quietly suffer if he has to.

will take care of you all the time. he wants to make sure that you’re okay and has a irrational fear that something could go wrong at any moment. he’ll ask if you’re okay or if you’ve eaten throughout the whole day. but what neteyam really wants is someone to take care of him. he wants someone who worries about him all the time, someone that would hear out all his problems. neteyam needs someone emotionally intelligent and outspoken because he deserves to have someone who understands and validates his struggles.

he doesn’t care of public display of affection. in all honesty, he probably doesn’t even notice it until his siblings point it out. neteyam has no shame in the world whenever you kiss him on the cheek or wrap your arms around him. if someone were to tell him to “tone it down”, he’ll get pretty aggressive and tell them to mind their own business. but there are times when you tease him, neteyam wants you to stop or his whole body will explode from how much he’s blushing.

when you try to tease him, he’ll certainly do it back. neteyam has a naturally competitive spirit so he isn’t backing down without a fight. it’s so nauseating for kiri and lo’ak to see you guys so lovingly tease each other during adventures in the forest or when it’s dinner time. there’s always a smile on his face when you tease him— he just enjoys it so much.

will speak on your behalf without a second thought. he’s the type to tell the waiter you got the wrong order when you told him it was fine. neteyam will never look down on you for not standing up for yourself— he knows it’s always a tough situation to be in when you’re all alone defending yourself. even if you’re in the right or wrong, neteyam feels the need to speak for you (he’ll lay it off if you tell him it’s fine). but if he’s really mad, he’ll be waving a finger on their face and have the urge to punch them on the face.

smiles so much more when he’s around you, even his family notices it. whenever he’s thinking about you, he cannot help but feel his lips turn into a grin— even if his cheeks started hurting. lo’ak teases him for it (kiri tells him to leave him alone), but neteyam doesn’t care. if he’s happy, that’s all that matters.

will always keep on eye on you when he’s not with you. neteyam is so protective over you that he can’t help but watch over you. when you’re hanging out with his siblings, his eyes are only on you. at times he notices your little habits whenever he observes you and can’t help but think they’re so cute— he’ll remember it until the day he dies. naturally, neteyam will also pick up on your habits because he looks at you too much. when you notice it, you tease him about it and he’ll admit that he always watches you (not in a creepy way tho).

a date with neteyam will be riding on his banshee during an eclipse. he’ll be gently guiding you onto his banshee and instructs you to keep your legs close and have your eyes protected at all cost (will put on your riding visor for you). neteyam loves the feeling of your embrace while he’s gliding in the air, your heartbeat against his back and the warmth of your skin. he won’t make any risky moves when riding because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen. he feels prideful when he catches you admiring the view of pandora.

lo’ak .° ᭡ ❤︎

whenever he blushes, he tilts his head to the side. it’s like a reflex and lo’ak gets embarrassed about it because people know when he’s flustered when he’s really trying hard to hide it.

he comforts you by giving you advice, or at least he tries. sometimes his advice is could be very questionable and just lead to more trouble. though he has good intentions, he can set a pretty bad example because he thinks with his heart more than his brain.

loves to make eye contact. he’s not really scared to do it, especially when he trusts you. his eyes always tell a story and he gets teased for being very expressive with his eyes. kiri says that he looks like he has a “smoldering” look whenever he looks serious.

if he’s trying to impress someone, lo’ak will try to show off more often. will probably do some risky stunt just to have your eyes on him— feeling a little good about himself. he’s the type to lower his voice to make him sound more “cooler” and when his siblings notice, they instantly make fun of them for trying so hard. he didn’t talk to them for a whole day because of that.

needs to reassurance all the time. a lot of his actions really have no brain to it, lo’ak just feels so hard he’ll do it without thinking about the consequences. he needs to know what he’s doing is right, if it’s worth it— because everybody in his life has always said no. once in his life he wants someone to validate him and to make him feel like he’s doing something good.

will encourage you to sneak out with him. he would want to spend every moment with you, that he would abandon everything else just to have alone time with you. of course, this makes lo’ak a bad influence but if you’re down to get in trouble with him, he’ll really fall for you. but make sure you also level with him, sometimes lo’ak needs to learn it’s not beneficial to always be rebellious.

whenever he has a crush, he’s unusually quiet. lo’ak is usually energetic and is mostly friendly to everybody, but he’s just too nervous to be himself when he’s around someone he likes. lo’ak feels like he needs to act a certain way so they wouldn’t think badly of him. it’ll take him time for you to get comfortable with him, that’s why he doesn’t instantly fall in love but wants to be friends first. but the fleeting feelings are there.

takes you on romantic dates. it’s the demon blood in him that makes him extra cheesy and romantic. lo’ak wants every moment to be special and he also wants to please you too. he goes all out to find places he thinks you’ll love and gets his family to help him— which they gladly do. at one point, you’ll probably be blindfolded with the most beautiful view of pandora waiting for you.

purposely acts like an idiot to make you feel better. if you were to embarrass yourself in front of dozens of people, lo’ak will be there to make a bigger fool out of himself so all eyes would be on him. he’s used to being the one looked at weirdly and he has no problem taking the heat for you.

© 2022 keisobe – please do not copy any of my writing and repost or translate to other sites.

[ender-cloud]

HOLY SHIT HYDE!!!!!

(See this is different from last week because it’s in all Caps)

I was hoping to move on to the next stage of grief but Hyde is still in the stage of Anger (for good reason) so Instead, the end will have my predictions for the Depression and bargaining stage.

But Anger lasting a while is realistic, some stages take longer than others do, so if anything it’s just good writing

Anger (Again)

I wouldn’t personally categorize this as just Anger, the Anger is mixed with the denial that Jekyll is serious. He still thinks this is a joke, a way to make him seem crazy, a way Jekyll can laugh at him.

Hydes anger is a stronger form of his denial, a more elevated version of it, he’s expressing his denial of the situation through his anger because he doesn’t want to accept it.

Thats Almost always true for the 5 stages of grief, in many cases Denial can be seen in Anger, Bargaining, and Depression, it’s no different for Hyde.

He looks almost crazy, the fact Jekyll is gone doesn’t make sense to him, it’s Jekyll, why would “perfect” Jekyll do something rash like this.

Now the entire point of Hydes anger last page was in hope to get control again, but this page his anger seems to take some control over him

Pounding on the mirror was clearly an impulsive decision done with little thought on what it would do, by trying to get the upper hand on Jekyll he just lost control of the situation even more until it was too late.

His emotions got the better of him, his fear and anger, he’s vulnerable, something he dosent want to be, it feels wrong to him and just makes it even a terrifying situation

Some general predictions:

Hyde will most likely panic next chapter, picking up glass as fast as humanly possible, blood probably dripping on his hands, i want this man crying and broken on the ground shaking

I feel like someone will walk in, theres no way that the lodgers and others didnt hear the glass crash, most likely, Lanyon will be first, yell at him for all that happened, asking where Jekyll is. Frankenstein would be next, then the lodgers

Rachel and Jasper wouldn’t be there, I think Rachel is crying somewhere else (perhaps the roof where her and Jasper first had their bonding conversation 👀👀) Jasper would either be looking for her or comforting her

If they did hear it they would be the last ones to the scene

Ok now my predictions for how Bargaining and Depression is going to go

Depression

Personally, i think Hyde will go through the depression stage first, I think he’s going to look around at everything he broke, everything he has done, just to see Jekyll isnt there

He’ll be lost, not sure what to do, and curl up into a protective ball, a way to hide, he will break, not being able to hide the emotions anymore as they just start spilling out

Bargaining

Hyde has been Bargaining, has been trying to get control back, but I believe this is where it will all come to fruition.

I think Hyde will do something irrational, and what exactly is that irrational thing? I think he is going to drink the temporary death potion that Frankenstein has

He will think it will put him into the mind with Jekyll, we’ve seen this happen a few times, when Hyde was killing their body and during the new short story with Dracula.

By doing this he thinks he will not only gain control again but also bring Jekyll back. It will give him a sense of power knowing he was able to bring Jekyll back

But I don’t think it will work, I think he will fail, I don’t think Jekyll is going to come back and if he does I think it will only be if Hyde goes deep into the mind, therefore killing himself in the process.

Jekyll isn’t just going to give into Hyde but Hyde doesn’t know this

Jekyll will always have the upper hand, no matter what Hyde does it will never be enough

[insidemyrottenbrain]

First dinner with Henry after a long long time

Finding out why he has been searching for you all these years

And what he wants now

Years later - 2

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Continuation at the request of my dearest anonymous

Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.

Henry ended up inviting me to dinner, insisting that he had a nice place in the middle of London. It was strange not only because of the rapidness with which he managed to obtain such a place but also because it was deeply uncharacteristic of him to own one in the city’s storm eye. Contradicting my rational thoughts not to go, I accepted the invitation to a promising home-cooked meal.

That is why I now stand at the candle-lit dinner table in his scarcely furnished flat, idly sipping from one of the two glasses filled with the white wine I had brought and had been saving for a special occasion. I watch Henry move around the kitchen as if he hasn’t aged a single day, with the same self-awareness of an old ballerina. Being alone with my thoughts more often than not brings certain things to light. My attention is now enraptured by the reality that I am fighting a losing battle with my yearning for He who never once ceased to infect my mind and torture my soul. 

Henry’s lips gently tug at me by rolling my name off his tongue and he pulls me back to reality by setting two dishes on the table. ‘You seem to be devoured by your thoughts, cupitus.’

‘I didn’t know you cooked.’ I remark as he finds his place on the chair opposite to mine.

‘It is a fairly new development.’ Henry nods. ‘Please, tell me how you find it.’

I pick up what looks like a succulent bite along with some garnish, and eat it. The flavours bless my taste buds.

‘You once again meet my great expectations, Henry. Is there anything in which you don’t excel?’ I half-smirk at him out of habit. I should have expected him to be good even at mundane things such as cooking.

There is a silence. I can feel the atmosphere in the room change into something thicker, more suffocating. Henry seems to be weighing down his words, utterly torn between them. He takes a deep breath as if to steady himself and levels his cold gaze with mine. ‘In existing without you.’ He finally slices through the dense silence. ‘I spiraled into utter madness when you left Vermont. Nothing made sense. I failed to realize how much you influenced my life until your departure.’ He is vigilantly tightening the rosary around my neck.

‘You must understand why I left.’ I say instead of acting on my consuming impulses that beg me to soothe his beating heart.

‘I do.’ Henry nods solemnly. ‘However, knowing the reason for your absence does not bring normality back to me.’

‘Normality is not eternal.’ I say without thinking.

‘It is not.’ He agrees. ‘Regardless, you must be my eternity.’ 

The sentence is so obnoxiously irrational that it has managed to break my whole being, including my equanimity, leaving behind raw emotions on my face. This did not escape Henry’s eyes.

‘I am aware of my thinking’s quixotic nature, yet I fear you must take it as it is.’ He pauses to light up a cigarette. ‘Will you come back to Vermont with me?’

‘No, I-’

‘Then I shall stay here with you.’ He interrupts not wanting to deal with anything that might be in antithesis to his wishes. Once he sees I remained quiet he takes a drag from his cigarette and speaks again. ‘The matter of location is settled then.’

‘I suppose so.’ There is no point in disagreeing with him. I pick up my fork, remembering the food in front of me. We eat in silence, while he finishes his cigarette and lights a second.

‘Let us move on to the matter of our relationship.’ Henry gets up and slowly moves towards the balcony, an unspoken order for me to follow. My feet move on their own accord and I end up by his side.

The city is breathing. It incorporates everyone, blurring mismatched stories and human lives together into one single homogenous mix of souls, yet somehow omitting us. We stand above it, two mortals playing Gods, overlooking a sea of indistinguishable humanity while we ourselves are an obscure pair of animae, strangled and twisted around each other far above recognition. I now understand that he is here because of my holy chains spiraled around him, constantly tugging and demanding his devotion, forbidding him from developing any organized thought or rational emotion. We endlessly torment each other with separation until our transit existences are nothing but purgatory.

I take the cigarette from his lips and bring it to mine, then let its remains fall below. I allow the warm smoke to escape my lungs and brush against his face. Henry desperately inhales it like oxygen.

‘I missed you.’ He whispers, vulnerability clear in his eyes.

I smile at the sight of which I never even dreamed and once again, after countless years, lock my breath and limbs with Henry’s.

[ode2rin]

fragile hearts and frantic minds

pairing. itoshi rin x gn!reader

genre. angst with no comfort | argument

content/warnings. 700+ wc | no dialogue | heavy in narration | no proofreading | inspired from "the other side of the door" by taylor swift

note. this is my first ever post, i just fixed its theme but it wasn't like this before xD

itoshi rin has convinced himself multiple times in the span of 42 minutes that you were going to leave him. as expected, as you should, he thinks.

the clock on the wall ticks away, each second like a hammer pounding against rin's chest. he sits slumped on the couch, his eyes unfocused and his thoughts frantic. the air is thick with tension, as if the weight of the fight between you two still lingers in the room.

rin's mind was stuck in a never-ending loop, replaying the argument over and over again. it had started innocently enough, with a joke from one of his teammates that had made you laugh. but for rin, that laughter had felt like a stab in the heart. it was irrational, he knew, but he couldn't help the way he felt. he hated the way his mind always jumped to the worst-case scenario, the way he felt like he was constantly being tested, waiting for the moment when you would realize that he wasn't enough for you. that another man can give you everything he can, if not more. and when he snapped at you, it was like all of that fear and anger had boiled over, a volcano of emotions that he couldn't control. 

there were moments in your relationship with rin when jealousy consumed him to the point where he felt like a green-haired mockery of himself. he hated the way his own insecurities made him feel. and yet, despite his occasional outbursts, you had never left the apartment. usually, you'd be cuddling on the same couch where he's sitting right now. , and you would run your fingers through rin's tousled green hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. assuring him until the warmth of your touch will replace the cold and gnawing feeling of his fear of being replaced.

but as rin sat there alone, his thoughts spiraling out of control, he couldn't help but wonder if this time was different. maybe this was finally the straw that broke your patience, the last drop in a cup that had been filled to the brim with Rin's issues and insecurities. maybe you’ve become tired of riding this never-ending rollercoaster with him, where the highs of your love are always followed by the lows of his fears. as he sat there in the suffocating silence, he was convinced that this was really the end.

little did he know, your own thoughts were just as frantic as his.

you never intend to leave your shared home. but when rin’s piercing words were pointed gravely at your deepest hurt, it felt like the only option.

from the beginning of your relationship, you knew that itoshi rin was a man guarded with painfully unyielding walls. the first time you met rin, you were drawn to his brooding aura, like a moth to a flame. he exuded an air of aloofness, his eyes guarded and distant. rin had been hurt before, you could tell. the scars of his past were etched onto his face, in the creases around his eyes that you stare dazedly into, and in the set of his jaw that you caress while he sleeps. 

rin's heart was a minefield, each step fraught with the danger of triggering his issues. one wrong move, one careless word, and he would retreat into himself, shutting you out. his walls would go up, higher and thicker than before, and it would take all your patience and love to bring them down again.

it never fazed you, though. everything about itoshi rin was never frightening to you, because you knew behind the cold and impersonal glow of those teal eyes was a man that is trying to come undone to you. you saw through his tough exterior, understanding the vulnerability hidden beneath those icy teal eyes. 

and so, you chipped away at the barriers he had erected around his heart, piece by painful piece. you like to think that you made your way to the top of his walls where you could finally see him. you like to think that somehow maybe you manage to let yourself in. 

but now, as you stand in front of your shared apartment’s door, your thoughts clouded with doubt, you couldn’t help but think if this time you had enough. maybe you were just another casualty of rin's fears and insecurities, unable to bear the burden of his emotional rollercoaster. maybe you were fooling yourself to think that you could ever truly understand the complexities of his heart. as you stand there in the suffocating silence, you couldn't help but wonder if this was really the end.

part 2 here!

[hadesoftheladies]

Greed is Male Culture

This isn't a misandry post (sorry to disappoint). Neither is it an essay (yet). It's a deep reflection on what I think is the beginning of humanity's most evil systems, like the actual beginning. These are just my thoughts based on what I know, and I'm sure other people have said what I am about to. This is not a research paper (yet), but it is based on my readings regarding marxism, feminism, and industrial/colonial history (and some marginal knowledge of animal species). This is an opinion/think-piece, the beginning of some of my broader ideas.

I consider greed to be largely irrational and even (mostly) unnatural. Greed is not like hunger or fear. Greed, right now, is about excess. And I think excess is unnatural, and the desire for it even more so. Sort of like how plastic is from nature, but cannot decompose like organic matter. I think greed is a synthetic desire. Mimicking organic feelings like hunger or fear. In a world of safety, community and fulfilment, the desire for power over another is foreign. Unnatural. There are no threats. There is nothing to inspire the thought or desire of greed (especially coming from a materialist perspective). So how did the quest for power for the sake of power (and not safety, survival, or protection) come to be in human beings?

I posit that it could only (and did) arise from male-to-male peer relations.

In most animal (at least mammalian and some other) species, males do not need to be as populous as females. If you want a robust chance at a second generation of animals, you need only one male for twenty or so females. A handful of males of which females would select the best and breed with. The handful of males would have more than enough chances at partnering, and the females would have no shortage of seed if they so wanted to be pregnant.

But that's not the case. Males and females are 1:1, and sometimes, males are slightly more than females in most sexually dimorphic animal species.

So now we have some complications. Something that had been good in a previous context (males for seed) now became problematic. Now, imagine there are slightly more males than females in society. Up until this point, the value for the human male has been two things: seed and manual labor. This is the basis of his relevance to society and identity. These are the only two avenues for him to find any value as a man (not an individual). But now, he senses that he is in jeopardy. He is exceedingly replaceable! There are many men, so not only are the chances for his seed being chosen reduced, but the amount of seed he could spread is also reduced! He doesn't want to share, and he cannot stomach being replaceable or losing access to females, who are the ones who dictate whether he has a legacy or not. Whether he has offspring or not.

So now the many males have to compete. They have to be more flamboyant, robust, more beautiful than the other males so they can get picked by a female (note, they are not concerned with picking a female because any female will do). But the competition gets steeper and keeps escalating for different reasons (environmental or evolutionary) as time goes on. So now, violence, aggression, and killing have become parts of the competition. Like any sport, the rules and stakes evolve as time goes.

The choice of females is now diminished in this first stage. This is the beginning of the loss of their freedom. It is not that they are simply mating with the "prettiest" male, per se, but that they are also left with the male that survives the battle between males.

And thus the concept of "territory" arrives. Man has come to see other men as his greatest threat. Other men can annihilate him by annihilating his chances at offspring. This is not something women experience because every offspring is theirs, regardless of what seed it came from. Women can never be "erased" on a biological level, because their DNA is the blueprint of all humanity. It started with women and it will end when women end. But this is a big existential fear to men. They can be replaced. They were not the beginning. He (singular) can be erased. There are other men ready and willing to replace him.

So now man needs assurances. He needs to assert himself to other men so that the threat is mitigated. He knows other men are out to get him, because all men are now at war with each other. They evolved strength, not to protect women and children (because females in nearly every species have been the main if not sole providers and protectors), but to protect himself from other men. Really, it couldn't be to protect women and children, because female animals are able to wield similar weapons (claws, spears, stones, beaks) against threats to themselves or their young. No, men need strength to defend themselves from other men, who are out to propagate themselves. Men have become the special targets of other men.

And so, in this struggle, the competition evolves again. The stakes heighten. Man needs to assert himself to other men or he's dead meat, and he finds new ways to do so. At this point, he also realizes that women pose no threat to him in this sense. They do not seek to dominate him. He is not that relevant to her. He is replaceable. So women seize to be as important (in terms of threat) and become relegated to assets. Women do not need to assert themselves, so because they do not, man sees them as different to him. Not the same kind of animal. Not human. Women do not need to establish themselves using violence, and he equates that to women not having agency or ambition. Women now become assets. But he needs them as assurance. Remember, they are the only way he has legacy. So he must find a way to control them. To make them permanently his somehow. He asserts himself using violence, even reproductive violence and it works. Women are now part of the territory. Conquests and wars ensue. Men now view acquiring women and land as the same thing. Now in order to ensure their legacy, men know that it will not just take killing other men, but policing women. Even killing (but mainly stealing and raping) the women of other men since women are now resources and not people. Women cannot assert themselves physically the way men can. They cannot impregnate themselves. This is convenient for him to exploit.

Factions start to form. Kings, chiefs, and dictators rise up as territory and assets expand. Women die in in the crossfire, and policing them becomes more brutal. Their mistreatment from their own offspring and species has now become their biggest threat. Men are now the plunderers and predators of women. Women's resistance is a threat to his precious resources and assurances against other men and his annihilation. The increase of brutality towards women means that more women die, and there are more men than women, making competition even steeper. Now, man moves in packs. He hunts in packs. He covers more ground and acquires more territory, and so long as he is top of the hierarchy, the men beneath him pose no threat. If anything, he makes sure they benefit, for they help him better maintain that hierarchy. More men are required to fight other men and plunder their resources. Armies form. Nations form. Territory.

Now we come to the modern world. After a history of colonialism, capitalism, slavery, genocides, grotesque war. The underpinnings of all these systems are the same. Competition between males. For what? Hierarchy. Why? To assert himself to other males. To what end? His humanity.

Man, the animal, has now come to equate his personhood with supremacy. To men, dominance is a virtue, because to assert yourself, to impose your will, is to be human. Man needs something to be dominant over or he seizes to be relevant. Man needs something to subjugate, or he becomes meat to be devoured by other men. There are more men now than there ever was. The world suffers because ALL these men "need" to assert themselves, to become human to other men.

This is probably part of the reason why women aren't seen as human. Not simply because they are regarded as assets instead of persons, but because to be subjugated is to be inhuman. To be subjugated is how you become an asset. Or at least, dehumanizing you as an asset makes it easier to christen your subjugation as morally right and economically necessary. This idea is especially prevalent in politics since the 18th century. Man sees living things in two castes: dominant and submissive. Because that is how he sees himself in comparison to other men. Cattle, sheep, nature, men who take it from the back, women . . . submissive and thus inhuman. If a man can subject you, you are no longer human to him because you cannot or do not assert yourself in the way he does. You are now an asset that he can use to assert himself to other men. You are not a relevant threat. This is also possibly why pacifism is largely regarded as feminine or "pussification." Even unnatural. Men equate violence to agency since violence is when they start to become their own people.

This becomes even more plain when you look at the underpinings of man's existential thoughts throughout religion, art, and philosophy. What makes a man a man? What makes a man useful? What makes life meaningful to a man? What traits do they worship about god? Omnipotence. Omniscience. Being the owner of all things. The capacity to impose yourself and image on the world and to be able to do so forever via offspring. Ownership and property only became relevant to man when another man competed with him. Excess is useful now because it is a grand way of asserting yourself. Fame and excess are equated to legacy. Now, they are all that is worth striving for. As a boast to other men. A synthetic desire (greed) from an organic feeling (fear of threat).

Man's purpose is now to win the competition, no matter how silly the sport gets. To assert himself and be a threat. And if he is not a threat, he is irrelevant and unspectacular (to humanity). And if he is not relevant, as his ancestors once feared, . . . then what is he? He cannot become a woman who is eternally necessary and relevant to human society and history.

So what else can he be? There are only two options in the male world.

Both these options cannot do anything but ultimately destroy what humanity is left in him.

Greed only makes sense if the satisfaction (mimicking hunger) is found in other people's perception of you. Men need men to perceive them as successful, because that has been how they protected themselves from other men. And now that competition exists in all forms of society, whether economic or social, we all participate on some level with it. It's not that greed is natural to the human heart, but that it has become increasingly relevant to our societies, from how we consume to how we relate. Now, every fraction of society has to have its own model of dominant/submissive, superior/inferior, etc. Because men hate themselves, hate each other, and hate everyone else.

Anyways . . . nighty, night!

PS: This is kind of like conflict theory meets feminist analysis, and it's more of a collection of my ideas than anything else. I find it interesting to look at modern human politics and arts, at least between the 20th century and now, in this lens. If you don't like what I have to say, at least let your criticisms be constructive. I do not mind reasonable disagreement.

[lovebugism]

hi babe hope this isn’t too personal but not having the greatest time right now. therapist did not answer any of my calls today so im kinda a mess 🥲🥲 if you’re willing to write any kind of comfort fic with any character that would be the best 💗💗💗

hi anon! i hope things are going better now! take this eddie munson comfort fic as my attempts to make you feel a wee bit better ily mwah <3

You were pretty good at taking care of yourself most of the time. Eddie always thought your innate sense of responsibility was extremely hot — mostly because it meant that you were even better at taking care of him.

He said it was a perk of being your boyfriend — “one of many,” he’d say, just before smacking a kiss to your cheek.

You were the yin to his yang in that way. Peace in all his chaos.

Eddie, himself, was a being who thrived on mayhem. There wasn’t a single thing he loved more than unpredictability — well, you, of course. Then maybe DnD. But spontaneity was a close third.

He isn’t quite sure how to live his life without the company of total disarray. He isn’t sure he would want to if he had the chance either. The unexpected makes things fun. At least, that’s what he always tells you. You’re not so sure.

When he makes you late to things because of his horrible time management skills, or he can’t find his keys because they’re hidden somewhere underneath a pile of clothes in the corner of his room, it feels a little like the end of the world.

And not just in the oh no, this thing is really stressing me out; good thing I know it’s illogical sort of way. But in the oh fuck, we’re gonna be ten minutes late to this get-together where there are zero consequences whether we show up or not, but it’s inducing so much panic that I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to function properly.

You’ve gotten pretty good at hiding your fear over the years. It’s just that Eddie’s so damn attuned to everything going on in your head that it makes it insanely difficult to wallow in your dread alone.

He knows when you start pacing and talking a million miles a minute that something’s working you up. He knows when you start getting snappy and don’t think his jokes are funny anymore that you’re close to your breaking point. He knows when you stop talking altogether that your entire world is caving in around you.

So Eddie takes great care in getting to things on time and tidying up his room when you're around. He doesn’t even care that he finds it all a bit irrational, he just wants to make things easier for you. Even if it means getting to Steve’s house an hour before everyone else or actually folding his clothes before putting them in drawers.

Eddie knows you use structure like a weapon rather than a shield. Organization isn't a way to keep your life together, it’s to keep it from falling apart. When something is out of order, when there’s one piece out of place, it’s not an easy fix — not for you. It’s more like a ticking tomb. 

You’re the ticking time bomb. And the faintest scent of disorder is bound to make you explode.

But maybe calling it a bomb isn’t the most accurate way to describe it. The way Eddie sees it, it’s a lot more like an avalanche.

It starts off small, a little rumble of uncertainty that jostles the comfort of your routine. You blink and suddenly the snowball weighs two tons and you’ve spiraled into a full-blown crisis that threatens to swallow you whole.

You don’t let anyone see any of it. Not even Eddie a lot of the time. You just bury yourself in the landslide until the heavy snow melts and you can function normally again — it may last a couple hours, maybe weeks.

So it’s a good thing Eddie can see all the warning signs before they start.

It’s all the little shit he notices first — the not showering as often, the not keeping things as tidy as usual, the closing yourself off. Eddie Munson knows a depression room when he sees one. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you’re slipping.

But rather than acknowledge that boogeyman, he pretends like it isn’t there at all. He thinks if he acts like it doesn’t scare him, then it doesn’t have the power to hurt him. That’s exactly how he treats the funks you get into. He knows they’re there but doesn’t let them take over completely.

Eddie comes around whenever he gets the chance and helps you do your self-care routine — even though all you do is complain that you don’t need his help the entire time.

He coaxes you into the bath and tidies up your bedroom while you’re gone. He does all the steps of your skincare for you after because he knows you can’t do it yourself. You’re too tired to, but you feel like shit when you don’t. That’s the same bitter cycle that started this whole mess.

He doesn’t do anything crazy. He just takes care of the little things to make you feel less consumed by it all.

You’re a pouting mess in the middle of your bed after, freshly cleaned and drowning in a too big shirt that smells like the musk of Eddie’s cologne with a towel twisted up in your hair. It’s almost cartoonish, the way you cross your arms over your chest and scrunch your face in displeasure.

“I don’t want you to do all this stuff for me, Eds,” you gripe. “I’m a big girl, okay? I can do it myself.”

The boy shrugs from where he stands at the foot of your bed. “I know I don’t have to. I want to, though. I like doing this stuff for you.”

“You hate cleaning, Eddie.”

“Yeah. I do,” he affirms with a nod, all but flopping onto the mattress beside you. He rests his head on his fist and blinks up at you with wide, twinkling button eyes. A grin pulls at his pink lips as he asks you, “But you know what I don’t hate?”

You huff but entertain him anyway. “…What?”

“You,” he beams and taps the tip of your nose with his pointer finger.

You meet his smile with a grimace.

“Actually, I sort of love you, as it turns out,” he corrects himself in a lilt. “And when you love someone, you do the shit you hate to make them happy, right? Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

You don’t answer him, just shrug.

“Well, either way, I’m happy to do all the boring shit if it means there’s a chance I get to make you feel even a little bit better,” Eddie tells you, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and leaving just an inch or more of space to squint his eye through.

That hand flops down and lands on your thigh. His thumb absentmindedly rubs over the skin there. His smile turns sheepish.

“I will happily fold laundry and do taxes and wash dishes and… all that stupid, boring shit for you for the rest of my life, as long as I can look over and see you next to me…”

Your heart swells with a distant happiness you haven’t felt in weeks.

Eddie helps you until you feel better enough to do it yourself.

Needless to say, when he stops by your place and finds it completely spotless, he doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. He rushes to your room and finds you in bed, flipping through a book. The small radio on your bedside table plays something synth-y.

He realizes you’ve traded in The Smiths for The Psychedelic Furs and that your lavender candle is burning on your desk and that you’ve spritzed yourself in your vanilla perfume.

Those are all staples in your little routine that you borderline can’t live without. You always missed out on them when you got into your funks, but here they are again…

Eddie tries not to smile too wide.

“How’s it hangin’?” he sing-songs when he waltzes into your room.

“Fine...” you murmur, half-distracted by your novel. After a few long seconds, your eyes finally flit up to his. He’s doing a terrible job of hiding a grin. “…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eddie shrugs as he takes off his leather jacket. He neatly lays the thing over the back of your desk chair and smooths out the wrinkles.

“‘Cause I love the shit out of you,” he answers like it’s nothing, like the words don’t mean everything to you. “And I’m really fucking proud of you.”

“Proud of me?” you echo in a scoff.

Because, to you, crawling out of a three week long funk is hardly something to be proud of. You don’t feel like you should be rewarded for being human, but Eddie knows that getting through the hard shit is a part of being human. And he’s so goddamn proud of you for it.

“Yep,” he nods with pink cheeks and a hopeful grin. “I’ve never been prouder of you, babe. And, like, I’m always proud of you, so that’s saying something.”

“Shut up,” you mutter under your breath. Your attention flits back to your book rather than focusing on the intense gaze Eddie looks at you with. You don’t get through a single sentence before he rips the thing from your hands. “Eddie!—”

You look at him again and find that he’s sterner now, but still so tender — chocolate eyes hardened but soft around the edges. There’s a kind grin on his and an air about him that tells you he’s serious. 

Eddie rounds your bed and plants himself at the edge of it. He keeps your book hostage in one hand and holds onto your calf with the other, running his thumb over the soft skin of your knee.

“I’m serious,” he tells you. “Like, I know shit gets hard for you sometimes, but... I don't know, watching you get through it is… really fucking cool, babe.”

He laughs when it makes you laugh.

“Seriously. It’s like you get stronger every day, and… not to be a total sap or whatever, but I feel really lucky that I get to see it.”

You’re not sure whether to duck away from his gaze or revel in its warmth. You manage somehow to do both with a distant pout on your face. 

Eddie’s grin widens until the dimple in his right cheek reveals itself.  “What?” he laughs. “What’s that look for?”

“‘Cause you’re nice to me,” you mumble like the cutest little storm cloud. “And it’s gross… And also I love you.”

“Well, get ready, babe. You got a whole lifetime of me being nice to you coming your way, so… Be prepared to be sick of me by the time we’re all old and wrinkly, alright? ‘Cause I’m still gonna love the shit outta you then.”

You grumble when he smacks a kiss to your knee.

You hope he keeps his promise.

[dot-png]

bryce Hfj Nd Headcanons u Say... ? Share them Pretty Pleas? wuld Love 2 Hear ur Thoughts Bout that Guy..

i see him having anxiety, clinical depression, c-ptsd and autism

the depression part is kinda obvious as to why if you pay attention to his character but ill elaborate later

the anxiety part is actually technically canon, since he has thalassophobia, which is an anxiety disorder (plus the fact i dont think airy would just randomly add a fun fact to their extra sections - a phobia caused by an actual disorder differs from just an irrational fear so yeah (also caney has epilepsy listed in his extra sections which is a disorder)) i'd like to incorporate that along with the cptsd part since it causes anxiety obviously

as for autism its more of a headcanon for fun rather than with factual basis but ill elaborate on it also

my reasoning for him having c-ptsd is not because of the competition but his childhood, his mom's behavior was so bad that stella had to out of her way to keep bryce away from her

i say complex ptsd specifically because of how he asks if she's having "another one" so we can assume it happened consistently. he also didn't have any way to escape (aside from stella distracting him) considering it was domestic. i dont really think his mom abused him in some way ? but the consequences had to be destructive enough for stella to assume their own home was unsafe for a small child. we don't see much about bryce's relationship with his mom (or his parents in general) but that 100% carried on to his adult self - especially if it happened frequently, and it was super early too because i dont think he was any older than like 7 in that flashback

another factor for this is stella's death ofc, we know how much their relationship mattered to him and how losing her affected him so i dont think i need to overexplain it

as for the way its shown in the show: compared to everyone else, his startled response feels more severe for me, like he always goes on fight or flight mode rather than just freaking out a little. i want to point out one 10 specially

liam shows up at bryces door after 7 months and just stays there for an entire night, during all that time liam just rambles about one and his mere presence is a reminder of one for bryce. one was a traumatizing experience for everyone, but bryce processes it differently, being reminded of that just sents him into shock:

he can't think of how to react until 10 hours later. the way liam reacts at first suggest he thinks bryce is just being rude and purposefully ignoring him, he thinks bryce shouldn't avoid talking to him because he thinks he didn't go through the same amount of pain he [liam] did on the plane and he shouldn't act like he did; but he isn't aware of how anything that remotely reminds him of a bad experience can send him spiraling back to that place, he may not have stayed as long and not have suffered as much (or worse) as liam, but he's been living with this mindset for so long that it's just an automatic reaction. he can panic at anything:

(and i wanna point out how on the first one the shot focuses specifically on him)

and that may seem obvious like, yeah of course he would panic in one 10 of course he was trying to process seeing liam out of nowhere after almost a year but i only went on this tangent and brought that up bc i wanna link it to another thing ....

in one 13 bryce says how "his life was miserable before the competition" and "now that its over he has an incentive to do something with his life". kylie also says that after bryce came back she feels like "he's taking his job more seriously". what i wanna touch on is how the way they put it seems like bryce is trying to like find a purpose in his life, but not exactly find peace ? i don't know exactly how to put it. like he says he was pretty miserable and demotivated he had a stupid chungus life whatever. it feels like he was trying to get his life in order and get more done, rather than facing what was holding him back in the first place and try to make peace with that. he felt unproductive when that's not really the main cause of his misery. which brings me to..

his whole thing with the waiting room. he didn't have any panic reaction, but he was definitely clinging to the past, in this case his childhood and the moments he got to feel safe with stella

now i know the waiting room is designed to make you want to go to whatever's calling you no matter what, but metaphors exist ok . so im gonna consider it a metaphor for his cptsd in bryce's case

he spends the entire episode clinging to the manifestation of stella, but liam stops him from actually going w her because he wants them to solve the whole airy thing first. by the end of it, bryce stops seeing the suburbs as well as stella. when liam and bryce finally get to rest, he says:

he didn't realize that his tendency to ignore his suffering in the past doesn't prepare him for when it pops up again. it send him into terror, he can't help but go back to reliving it, this cycle just kept making him feel worse but he insisted in doing better instead of reconciling with himself

his childhood and one were two different traumatic experiences, but accepting he can't just live what he went through in that competition behind makes him realize he doesn't need to be scared of his past so often. he had to realize he can't just constantly try to repress what happened and move on without reflecting on the way what happened scarred him and continues to affect him; even if he supresses it, it will come back one point and make him go through all that all over again (which is another reason for me to think that people saying bryce dislikes liam is stupid but thats not the point !🙄)

as for his depression season 1 implies it a lot, specially with the flashback sequence in one 7 i can see him having executive dysfunction and it being one of the reasons as to why he tried changing so much after one he also has problems with sleep, and the irritability that comes with experiencing depression in general. also stella's death once again contributes to it

i see him being autistic mainly because he's this trope basically:

(sorry this image is the only way i could put it . you have to understand . ) kylie says how he's not very expressive, and we see how he really isn't. monotonicity is very characteristic of asd, in his case it feels specially like a symptom considering how, in most cases, people don't mean to be as monotone as they are. we know bryce isn't exactly the most chill person in the world he just has a hard time managing and expressing his emotions

bringing up executive dysfunction again, its also a common trait in asd

another thing is his hypersensitivity (which i already talked about a lot), overstimulation can lead to panic attacks you get what i mean. i think he fits as being sensory avoidant

the way he handles most social situations in the show (specially on the plane and with liam on season 2) i can see him being oblivious to social cues

not exactly factual basis just a little analysis, i interpret him being low empathy but high compassion. i think the low empathy would be more related to his irritability

[bekolxeram]

I was blissfully ignorant when I saw TPTB confirmed Tommy's age yesterday. If you've read my page you'd know I too enjoy digging a bit too deep into the lore and coming up with explanations for the convoluted timelines. I see them as challenging puzzles to solve when there's no new Bucktommy content, as I'm creatively deficient. I really thought it was someone on the same boat asking the question because boredom?

I was until this morning I saw a wave of anons all repeating the same talking points that I realized there were layers upon layers of discourse and drama behind the age debate on other social media platforms. I'm not on those sites, and I might've curated my Tumblr experience a little too well, I really had no idea what I saw as a funny little plot hole generated allegations that sound too much like homophobic stereotypes. I do intent to keep ignoring that part of the fandom, but I have this irrational fear that my hyperfixation of the day might accidentally coincide with whatever that subsection of the fandom decide to fuss about.

I love Tommy as a character, I love him with Buck, I love the flying stuff, the weather stuff and the disaster stuff, so I'm going to keep enjoying that. I'll worry about it if and when I actually unknowingly step onto that bear trap.

That being said I'm still a big disaster accuracy truther. Yes, I know this is a wibbly wobbly timey wimey kind of show, with rampant medical inaccuracies that even a layman can tell. But AFAIK they do have actual retired firefighters working on the show, at least at one point.

Or when you look at the ships at the end of the cruise ship rescue, where everyone reunites, those are the actual US Coast Guards. So I do understand the characters' age and career timeline and stuff are based on vibes, but I do believe the major rescues and the fire department operation side of things have some basis in reality.

[catchyhuh]

What are your thoughts on the rest of the gang’s knowledge/experience with Jigen’s fear of ghosts, and likewise for Lupin’s fear of octopi?

I. GOT MORE INTO THIS THAN I EXPECTED i also looked around a bit to see if i could find fujiko, goemon and zeni’s little… unserious fears, but i couldn’t remember anything/my gigantic lupin screenshots and note-taking docs were no help in finding stuff those three were creeped out by. if anybody has any info on how to ruin these three’s days, please share

SO!

IRRATIONAL /NOT THAT BIG A DEAL FEARS

lupin: not fucking big on octopi

probably got it from some absolute nothingburger childhood event where he went to the beach and one got a bit too close to him and he internalized that rather than all of the other fucking insane shit that was going around him throughout that time

jigen is probably the one who fixates on it the most because it’s. really not that serious. it’s not like this is some kind of trauma trigger, he’s just icked out by the suction cup thingies. ergo jigen is always the first to shove an octopus at lupin just to laugh at him when he makes a face and goes “CUT THAT SHIT OUT”

fujiko doesn’t really think about it much, and honestly didn’t realize it was a thing since it never came up in day to day life until they went to scope out an aquarium for some jewels in the mosaic mural or whatever and he just grimaced like a cat about to throw up when he saw the giant 10 foot tall red octopus on the wall hovering over him. and she’s just seeing him wince at the wall and all she can think is “oh my god does he think the rubies are fake. is he about to tell me this is all for nothing” while lupin is thinking “jesus christ. i love her i love my fujicakes i have to do this i love her i lo

goemon is the least affected by it, since he’s usually busy doing his own thing in instances where it would come up. he’s off doing whatever the hell he wants on the beach, he’s waiting outside on the roof at the aquarium, he’s letting jigen handle the main dish while he prepares the sides. even if he did witness firsthand lupin going “EW EW EW GET IT AWAY” like a child seeing a centipede for the first time he’d probably dismiss it as “oh, he really hates that watery, slimy texture on his skin. i wouldn’t want that either, really.” and then just. gently bats it away. doesn’t think anything of it in the slightest

did zenigata INITIALLY know he was afraid of them. no. he didn’t mean to actually freak him out while he was throwing an actual fucking octopus on him to catch him that one time, it just made sense to get a grabby animal to help him. well. grab. however when he DID FIND OUT, he spent a whole week setting up petty and random ways to throw octopi into his thwarting plans. it’d be a lot easier to catch someone if they were so caught off guard by something they hate they totally forgot to check around their surroundings. unfortunately for pops this is probably the reason why lupin’s not AS creeped out by them as he used to be. son of a bitch accidentally used exposure therapy on him like fear factor or something. oopsie!

side note this is making me realize i wrote that entire splatoon post without once considering the fact that lupin fucking hates like half the environment there. double oopsie

jigen: not fucking big on ghosts. or nuclear radiation but that’s not the point

i can understand why a guy emotionally haunted by all of the people he’s needlessly killed in his life would also be afraid of those same people like. ACTUALLY haunting him. plus it’d be funny if he went his entire childhood not that bothered by the idea of ghosts only to get steadily more freaked out by the idea as he got older

in a more nonspecific sense he just does not like having shit jumping out at him and ghosts seem to be the most common proponent of that so by association FUCK GHOSTS

lupin, to balance the scale here, is the worst. accidentally forgetting to mention a movie has to do with ghosts, bringing him into an old warehouse to steal something and certainly not because it has old creepy halloween props in it, hell, he even keeps extra white sheets on hand juuust in case. more than anything this just annoys the shit out of jigen and makes him reconsider his entire life that led up to the point of his lifetime partner in more ways than one actually resorting to going “ooOOoOOOOoo” at 3 a.m. to push his buttons.

fujiko is delighted by the fact, but restrains herself here. unlike the above example, she knows the most effective scare is one that comes out of the blue, after spending so long feeling calm. she’ll be sitting at the table in the morning reading an article on her phone, gasping really loudly and going “‘mansion at (address just up the street from their hideout) declared officially haunted 45 years after human remains were found in the basement’?! how creepy! i don’t know how you guys can stand sleeping a few houses away from that” and yes, this tactic ALSO annoys him, but is still effective, because they keep staying in these crumbling, old buildings in old towns and if he tries to look it up later there’s a 50/50 chance that article or a similar one is actually real

goemon… has a bit more fun with this than you’d expect. primarily because jigen doesn’t think he’s very aware of the fact, and… goemon’s default halloween outfit is always a pale, sunken-eyed, donned in white ghost. it doesn’t SCARE jigen so much as unsettle him in a childish way that he can suppress a bit, but the real gag here is that jigen honest to god doesn’t think goemon’s doing this on purpose. oh, jigen.

zenigata probably only found out because someone just outright told him, he thought about it for a minute and went, “i guess that makes sense,” and nothing ever came out of the fact. if the two were in a situation where they could just josh around and everything i could see him ribbing at him for it just because. well when you think about it on a surface level it is kind of funny for a man as scary as jigen to be spooked out by a widdle ghost. but outside of that, it’s not really something he could use to his advantage or for his own personal amusement, so he doesn’t make a real big deal out of it usually