#tw: ​unsolicited advice

[etherealising]

pt. 2 lol, so then after class he was like i didnt mean that to be disrespectful or anything, and idek what he was trying to say by that but like what the heck. like idk i just feel like that was rude and maybe im overreacting and being a baby about it, but like thats the second time that ive been embarrassed in front of the entire class and im really just over it. so im thinking of dropping, switiching profs, or switching languages. not having a good time its only week two wtf? sry for rant-<3

okay but no in my opinion i felt it was kind of disrespectful/offensive. i love you <3 anon but i am the worst person to have this conversation with. coming from someone who has changed their major TWICE and almost changed it last wednesday just because i was having an existential crisis i am absolutely not the person to ask about switching a class. because as soon as i get a bad vibe or i’m not having a good time, i am out of there so QUICK!

advice i can give you though, is to pay attention to add/drop dates with your school lol. but also sit with it for a bit to make sure changing/dropping that class is a good idea for you. also take into account if this is how you’re feeling now in week two how you might be feeling by mid-semester. but at the end of the day you’re old enough to know what’s best for you so i hope you make the best decision for yourself.

also eww yo didn’t even ask for advice and now i’m giving you unsolicited advice. legit ashamed of myself [please disregard]

anywho please keep ranting we’re besties and i love chatting with you!

[spoonielols]

[lilliths-not-just-httyd-blog]

I've got my pre-period bad feels and it's not doing me any good...

Anyway uh I crave engagement and interaction with other fandom members (normal caveman urge to interact with people I like who have interests similar to mine, so fair enough)... but like... I feel like I have to be constantly putting stuff out in order to trigger this engagement, which has thrown me into this really unhealthy cycle of "I must work in order to earn the ability to have conversations with people" basically. Like... "Nobody's talking to me, must be my fault for not posting a fic! What? I did post a fic? Oh, people just aren't interested in me anymore because I haven't been putting out work consistently, whoops, I'm just gonna be alone for a while now..." like that's where my brain is at rn and it sucks so much...

Comments on my fics are definitely slowing down. YouTube views feel like they're slowing down even though I know they're not. YouTube comments are absolutely slowing down. Notes in the tags/reblogs are too but that's because I haven't been writing many of my own posts recently because my brain is sleepy. Discord interactions aren't as down but it's just not the same, like it feels like friendships are just. Disappearing.

And I feel like it's my fault. Because I've been taking breaks from writing and video-making to interact with the real world and partake in other hobbies and have fun and GET OVER MY FUCKING PRODUCTIVITY COMPLEX WHEREIN WHICH I CHASTISE MYSELF FOR NOT BEING PRODUCTIVE 100% OF THE TIME AND IT'S ABSOLUTE HELL. Like bruh I went swimming, I baked cupcakes. I should feel good about myself but I don't. Because I haven't been posting as much recently. My art has become my means of 'earning' friendships and interactions.

I'm aware of how unhealthy and fucked this all is. I don't need advice (I've heard it all before). It's just another issue I gotta work through.

But damn, it would be nice to feel like I can actually fucking talk to people.

And I feel like all this wouldn't be as bad if I wasn't having pseudo writers/art block.

Also, I feel like it's my fault because I joined a new fandom and have been creating less for the old one.

[catboynutsack]

hi I hate fatphobia in medicine thanks for coming to my ted talk

[enruiinas]

        Slouching back into his seat, Law gave an exaggerated shrug before he folded tattooed arms across his own chest. ❝ Then I guess you’d have a problem, ❞ he retorted simply. And if it were that insulting to have someone want to look after you, it looked like they were all in for five very long months.

        Something akin to annoyance settled inside the surgeon in the silence that followed Ikkaku’s heated outburst. A feeling, hurt and raw and uncomfortable, that had golden orbs glancing away in the moment it took to compose himself.

        When he thought he had, Law sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Then he pushed away from his desk and stepped around the engineer, making his way toward the door in search of fresh air. Maybe they could all use a breather at this point - even if they had just surfaced the day before. Such breaks were becoming increasingly frequent with each passing week: perhaps they’d be better served staying topside entirely. Pausing at the threshold, he addressed the engineer without looking back.

        ❝ Look. I get what you’re saying. And I’m sorry it comes off the way it does, but it’s not some thing I can just turn off in my head. I’ll try to keep it away from the rest of you until this is over, but I can’t promise you’re not gonna hear about it. ❞

        Which made sense to him, too: that was perhaps the worst part of all of this. That he knew where Nami was coming from. That she needed someone to talk to that clearly couldn’t be him all the time. He knew where Ikkaku was coming from, too, and maybe it was selfish of him to want at all right now, but none of that changed how he felt about all of this, either. Maybe with a little time and distance, he could pack some of his own misgivings away to be addressed later - but that wasn’t likely until they reached the nearest island. They’d just have to make do until then, even if that meant a few nights apart in the meantime.

        And perhaps that should have been the end of the conversation, but Law could not stop himself from frowning as he made one final attempt to clarify his muddled thoughts.

        ❝ But just so we’re clear- I’m not deluding myself thinking Nami needs my help for a second. ❞ He knew exactly what the ex-marine was capable of- enough that it unsettled and reassured him all at once. She and Ikkaku could have a problem with him all they wanted, but he couldn’t stand back and watch them decide for themselves it was because he didn’t think she was capable. ❝ She could do this whole damn thing on her own and be perfectly fine. I know that as well as anyone. ❞

        And he did. Law had never doubted that she could handle this on her own if she wanted to. He just hadn’t expected it to feel like she did.

@horonomi ┅ [Heartverse || Unsolicited Advice] ┅ continued from discord.

[baepsays]

How to breakup with your boyfriend — not a guide.

tw: mentions of food, just NSFW stuff, mention of periods, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving), p in v sex, no clear pronouns used for the reader, but written as a fem oriented person, insecurities, trauma responses.

If someone asked you what's your boyfriend like? — you'd say, "GREAT!"

And no it is not to compensate for the fact how badly you want to break up with him. It is infact that he is just great! No complaints really. Gojo Satoru was perfect.

He was kind, caring, attentive, and sweet. He knew when to just sit there and agree with you when you're telling him about this horrible fight you had with your parents, and not give you unwanted and unsolicited advice. He also knows exactly at what time to feed your cats, water your plants, how you like your coffee, which days you do your laundry — how you like them done. Which specific clothes are supposed to be sent for dry cleaning, and he drops them off on his way to work and pick them back up when they are done.

Satoru knows what foods you are allergic to, and which ones you're 'allergic' to (read: do not like to eat)—so he will be the first one at a table full of people you've known for decades, to say something like, "oh this dish has corn? Ah. Y/n can't have corn, allergies you know."

He also knows which detergent to pick up, which fabric softer you use. He knows your period dates and the brand of tampons and pads you use. He remembers your birthday, your cat's birthday, your parents' birthday, your bestfriend's birthday! He gets you your favourite cake to celebrate your promotion. He will watch every bad movie, every gore or horror movie and whatever you want, it doesn't matter if he doesn't like them.

He is one of those people who will cover the head of the car's entrence after opening the door for you so you don't hit your head there, he'll cover the corner and the sides of the table as you move around to find something you dropped and urge you to sit back up, so he can pick it up for you.

When you guys kissed for the first time, he let you take the lead, to make you feel comfortable knowing that you're quite inexperienced. He'd rather eat you out for days on, tongue inside you, on your clit, fingers and all than have you give him a head. Unless you want to! And sometimes you do want to. And when you do, despite his urge to push your head down on his cock, he resists. His hands are always in your hair, pushing it back in a comfortable ponytail. Always complimenting you and telling you how well you're doing. He won't leave marks on you if you don't want him to cause of an important work event, he'll even resist his impending urge to bite you. Even sex is just very sweet, he's the most gentle when pushing himself inside you. He simply worships your body and-

Ugh! You get it! He is absolutely picture perfect.

So back to the matter at hand. Why would you ever want to break up with a person like that? Maybe because he is just TOO perfect. There is a thing called overbearing, sometimes it feels like— he's too overwhelming, and all too consumed with you.

You do not really mind the last part—but maybe you don't want a man who's straight out of fiction! You weren't familiar with such treatment all your life really, this all can be too new. You do see him treating others more roughly when needed. But he's just so delicate with you. Not that it is a bad thing, but sometimes you'd rather he stayed rough around the edges. Being treated like a fragile doll to the maximum does sound great in theory, but in practice it can make you feel pathetic.

You have tried to breakup with satoru on multiple occasions. First you started dropping hints here and there, seeming to be uncertain about your future together —all he'd say is, "don't worry your pretty head about the future sweets, I'm planning accordingly."

You've started picking unreasonable fights with him more often, whether you'd get genuinely pissed off or not, you'd fight him over the most silliest things. "Why did you turn over the pillow on this side?? You should know I don't like this side! How could you not know!? It's like you don't even know me Satoru!"

All he'd respond with, "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I am genuinely so disappointed in myself. I hope you can forgive me please. I'll make sure to know which side you prefer better from now on. Please sit down and let me finish painting rest of your nails."

Yeah so that also didn't work out huh.

So you opted for for this weird strategy. You told him you wanted to get a nose job — to make it bigger! (No shaming anyone for wanting that just saying this is a very silly strategy you've decided upon). Satoru just smiled and kissed your nose, told you that whatever you'd like to do, he'd love you anyway (Insufferably loving man).

Then you stopped reciprocating his kisses, doging them even. You went as far as to try to not have sex with him. But this bastard is too good, and unfortunately for you despite wanting to break up with him you just still really love him. Too much. And he loves you. Too much.

You'd move your head away and he'd cradle your head in his hands and make you look at him, then let this staring contest go on until you just give in and pull him into a kiss. He'd be very sly about his choice of clothing, his touches, and get you all riled up that you can't just help it! "What happened to the sex ban sweets?" Satoru would whisper smugly in your ears while thrusting in you. Bastard! Even trying to control your expressions mid sex to make yourself seem disinterested was not on the table! He's just that good.

And infact satoru is better than what you think of him. And he's much more perceptive than what you give him the credit for. Because he picked up on this little mission of yours the exact day you probably thought to yourself —i need to leave him. You stayed up the whole night one day and silently went to the living room to go on the internet and search up articles about 'how to break up with my boyfriend'.

I wouldn't say he was not hurt. But he also understood you. He understood you more than yourself at times. He understands that you haven't had the best childhood and the best parents around, resulting into this hyper independent mindset you've curated. You'd rather bleed to death than ask for help. And he gets that you can sometimes get in your own head about things. But he was ready to tackle those things head on the day he signed up to fall inadvertently in love with you. And if you want to make excuses to your friends about him being too soft for the reason behind wanting to break up with him—

He can show you rough. As long as he gets to keep you all to himself, love you and cherish you. However you want.

A/n: dividers by— @/omi-resources. To check out more of my stuff click this.

[bluemoonsystemrq]

Anon, if it was us in your situation: do not let your support of transIDs or transitioning dull your abuse radar.

He has done much more than enough, non-consensual, harm at this point. If you're not cool with restraint but feel letting him loose is too much control, might we recommend putting locks on your frontspace (assuming you have one), or something similar?

Apologies if this seems completely unsolicited, it seems OP is at a loss for what to do, and that would be our first line of defense alongside putting him on a watch of some kind.

im kinna at an empass...

our host is transharmful (transbigot) and he's like. really into the transition n shi which most of us were cool with bc he wasn't hurting nobody

but then he started like. trying to get us out of the rqc n the queer community in general bc "he doesn't wanna be associated with fags" and is constantly starting fights w people. and i just learned he got us to vote for trump and NEVER TOLD US and i feel really fuckin gross and betrayed. we're bodily black too so this is so much worse on us

he refuses to change his mind on any of this. i wanna support him but like... i feel like he's taking it WAYYYY too far. some of the others wanna force him into dormancy and thats stressin me out a bit. if you have any advice please send it our way

He's got into the point where he's hurting people who are not consenting :(

He went from transbigot to cisbigot... like good for him on his transition, but I doubt that this was his original goal... to get to a point where he's hurting everyone...

If it was his original goal, he probably was always a cisbigot looking for something to excuse his behavior...

My point is he has taken it too far because he's hurting people who are not consenting now. He voted for someone who specifically hurts everyone. And making a political decision without consulting the rest of the system is not only rude but against system etiquette.

He's not considering anyone while chasing his goals of being harmful when consent is the biggest thing for transharmful individuals...

I'm repeating myself. I know that, but it's hard for me to process how someone can be like that when there's queer people in the head with them...

[cybertronian-reader-imagines]

How about someone who was recently turned into a Cybertronian and Team Prime tended to and comforted them? They have a lot of adjusting to do! 👀

TW: A bit of implied disassociation because, holy shit, suddenly you're a giant metal robot and that's kinda hard to wrap your newly non-organic brain around.

((Knock Out is here because there is not enough Autobot!Knock Out and I love him.))

Team Prime comforting Reader, who just got turned into a Cybertronian, would include...

Optimus reassures you from the first moment that you have a safe home with Team Prime, should you choose to stay with them. Of course, you do. He makes sure you have the time and space to adjust and be comfortable with your new body before jumping into anything. He's just there if you need him, which some days is more helpful than everyone's else's efforts to offer unsolicited advice right off the bat.

Bumblebee helps you adjust to having wheels by challenging you to races that double as training whenever possible. He is almost certainly going easy on you, but nobody ever tells you as much.

Bulkhead is the first to realize that maybe you just really need a damn hug right now, if only because he's not very good with words. He hugs you and reassured you that it will be okay, and you're amazed how warm and fuzzy you feel afterwards, even though you're fairly sure your new body doesn't actually feel such minute temperature changes.

Ratchet tries to be "comforting" by explaining how your new body works... in detail that goes way, WAY over your head. But eventually, you get him talking about Cybertron's history and culture, and realize that your two species aren't all that different after all, which helps more than an anatomy lesson ever could.

Smokescreen is quick to remind you that you don't have to go back to your boring human school/job/house/whatever. Depending on how much you liked/disliked your old life, this is either incredibly helpful or incredibly irritating. If you get upset with him though, he's quick to apologize, and it's hard not to be comforted by that well-meaning smile and a servo patting your shoulder.

Arcee might somehow be even more protective of you than she is of the humans - she knows what happens when bots overestimate how much they can handle, and she figures that's really easy to do when you go from being a tiny, fragile human to a giant robot. Sometimes it's hard to hear her remind you that you're still mortal, but she means well. "Okay Mom, I get it."

Wheeljack, like Bulkhead, isn't very good with words, but he's also not very good with affection. What he can do, however, is listen. He's there the first time you get frustrated with the rest of the Team - not because they truly did anything wrong, but because being cramped into a tiny base with people you've just met will irritate anyone - and he never breathes a word of what you vented to the others. The Wreckers had their spats too - he knows you'll all be cool at the end of the day.

Oh Primus help Ultra Magnus he doesn't have a comforting servo in his body, but at least he's honest about that. In fact, he's the best bot to go to when you're ready to have things less sugarcoated.

Knock Out doesn't understand what the fuss is about - why would anyone ever want to be a squishy, gross organic when they could be Cybertronian? Humans couldn't turn into cars, for one, and couldn't be polished. He gives you a fresh coat of paint and polish and tells you how much better you look now - it does help, in a way. Being able to pick out new paint makes you feel a little more like your new body is really your body.

But honestly? Your biggest comfort might just be Jack, Miko, and Raf, if only because they will remind you any time you so much as frown just how cool being a giant robot is. And then you remember, yeah, it is pretty cool, actually.

[revehae]

tw // noncon. yes its rape dont ask me no stupid fucking questions

yesterday (over a month ago technically) i couldn’t stop thinking about apologetic rapist haechan like ugghhhhhhhhhh

walk with me. this is a man you trust to have in your home, spending time watching movies and playing video games together in between your stressful lives… you’ve confided in each other about all of your problems, big or small, and chat about everything under the sun. you give him advice that he doesn’t listen to, then has the audacity to complain afterwards. he’s got a spare key to your place and you’ve got one to his, and all your boyfriends over the years feel like they have to compete with him, but the thought is ridiculous to you. compete with haechan romantically? it’s laughable. sure the guy has seen you half naked, but it’s not like that, you’re comfortable, you’ve never seen him ogle you or heard him make some unsolicited comment about your body that even strangers have made… why would anyone have to compete with haechan? he’s your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

you’re not sure how you could’ve been so wrong. the way you see it, the haechan you thought you knew wouldn’t take advantage of how comfortable you feel around him, the fact that you let him share a bed with you every now and then. it’s not necessarily strange for his hands to wander around you, he’s clingy and unconsciously does it in his sleep, but it is strange for them to be so firm at your hips, nails digging into your skin, sounds that aren’t soft snores falling from his whiny lips.

confusion dwindles. betrayal stings your eyes. haechan sees it, too. he lifts his head up, tosses the hair out his face, and meets your eyes. there’s no arrogant shimmer to his eyes or smug smile to his face; the opposite. there’s shame and guilt and sadness, you want to think, and he beats you to a word, uttering, “i’m sorry…”

but he’s not sorry enough to stop. not even when you struggle against him, trying to wrestle your way out of his arms. you and haechan would play fight all the time, but you never realized just how strong he really was until you try to wrestle out of his arms and he pins your arms in place, whispering, “please. i don’t want to hurt you.”

but he would if he felt he had to. you’re in disbelief, the ugliest feeling festering inside your chest as it tightens so hard you can hardly breathe. when you beg him to stop, he says, “i can’t.” because you feel so much better than he’s ever imagined, and he’s imagined it a lot, and he just “can’t resist” himself. his eyes are misty, out of pleasure or out of shame, but either way, he needs to do this. he has to.

he can’t look you in your eyes. he can’t look at your face at all, really. he knows what he’ll see, the tears pouring from your eyes that gleam with a fierce blend of betrayal and despair and ire and disbelief. haechan doesn’t want to see you that way. having to hear your sniffles, knowing it’s all his fault, is bad enough. but in spite of the pangs of guilt that really do tear at his chest, he’s still in the middle of you, holding you in place, using your body for his own relief. so he just keeps his clasp on your hips, squeezing his eyes closed, and mutters, “i’m sorry…,” over and over and over again, hoping it’s enough. hoping that you’ll bring yourself to forgive him.

it’s not like it’s long before it’s over. haechan’s not proud of it but you’re all he’s been able to think about and it’s not like he’s ever hit a pussy raw before, if ever. you feel so filthy when he pulls out of you - his cum gushing out of your hole - and so broken. haechan says he’ll help you clean, but you’re rushing over to the bathroom and locking yourself inside before he has a chance to do anything. he hurriedly pulls on his pants and spends a long ten minutes knocking on the door, trying to get you to open it even after you scream at him to leave you alone, but he can hear the shower running from the other side. and he decides to leave you alone for now.

haechan tries to make it up to you, he really does. he doesn’t want you to hate him. you have to understand. your body was calling to him, enticing him, and he tried so hard but he couldn’t control it anymore. he’s gone when you return from a really, really long shower that you took in hopes of feeling less dirty, but to no avail. every bit of relief you feel at his absence, which isn’t much considering that pieces of him linger everywhere - on your sheets and in your aching bones and everywhere in between - fades when you hear the front door click open and he returns with your favorite takeout in hand. it’s his way of showing you that he’s still your best friend, that he still knows and loves you, that he’s sorry.

you’re not hungry. you have no appetite after that. haechan tries to get you to eat, but the second he comes near you, you flinch away from him. you never thought the day would come, but you are scared of him. he’s not the haechan you thought he was, no matter how hard he tries to convince you that he still is. you beg him to go, to leave you alone, but he doesn’t listen. he never does.

[hurtspideyparker]

Hi, sorry but could you recommend any of your favourite Peter Parker fics please?

For sure !!! *cracks open ao3 bookmarks*

Thirty Hours by polaroid15 - Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Hurt Peter Parker, my favourite tag <3 I love when Spider-Man is a badass and also lacks self-preservation. He's so cool fighting alongside the Avengers and we get some sweet hurt/comfort irondad!

Fitting In (Tiny Spaces) by aloneintherain - Peter's trapped beneath a collapsed building during a mission, hurt and unable to move. Luckily, his comm still works. Unluckily, the Avengers don’t realise how bad of a state Peter is in, and Peter isn’t inclined to tell them.

This fic is an icon in the fandom and for GOOD REASON. I just can not get enough of Peter Parker hiding his injuries. More heavy whump and angst!

All good things come in threes by Bergen - Peter has three secret identities: Spider-Man, the superhero who swings around the city to save people. Parker Benjamin, who gives Tony Stark unsolicited advice on his research. And NightMonkey, the Instagrammer who keeps uploading increasingly popular but embarrassing drawings of Iron Man.

And he can juggle them all just fine, thankyouverymuch.

Okay here is the fluff!!! Peter is a genius, a menace, and a sweetheart. Tony Stark runs into him (again and again) and can't help but have a soft spot for him every time. Funny and cute and an all 'round good time!

Held Together by Spiderwebs by TunaFishChris - Steve is not coping well in the twenty-first century. At all. Three months after the Chitauri invasion, he decides he's had enough.

But just as he's about to end it all, he runs into the new hero in town.

This one focuses a lot on Steve but I really like him and Peter's relationship in it, and I think this is great Peter Parker characterization. TW for discussions of depression and suicide, it gets a bit dark!

5 Times Spider-Man Saved an Avenger's Ass (and 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris - this fic showcases how strong and capable Peter is, he's definitely a BAMF. I really like this genre where the Avengers know Spider-Man but not Peter Parker, makes Peter feel more independent and mature like in the comics.

Five Time Faculty Members Had to Call Peter's Emergency Contact + One Time He Shows Up Anyway, Five Times Tony Stark's Fabled Intern Just Showed Up + One Time He Was Invited, and Five Times Strangers Talked About Peter and Tony + One time Someone They Know Did by kingdomfaraway - I am just gonna recommend this entire series. Super fluffy, extreme irondad and spiderson. They're just adorable from an outside perspective and I love when Peter gets to just be Tony's intern and a teenager for a while :)

research and disaster by blueh - “So, uh, Mr. Stark definitely knows Roomba-Kid,” Becket says and discreetly tilts his head in the direction of the pair.

“Oh my god,” Jess says. She almost sounds gleeful. “Oh my god, he’s not just some random kid. He’s Mr. Stark’s kid.”

or: the interns at Stark Industries have some questions about Peter Parker. The answers aren’t quite what they expect.

I just love intern Peter mk? Let him be a kid genius and have fun!!! Fluffy and humorous, again with the irondad.

Captain, Oh My- Not My Captain! by uncouth_peasant - Peter swallowed hard before firing a web to swing into the fray. “Cap’s going after civilians. I’m out of time.”

Bruised and bloody men <3. Just Peter being a badass and getting beat to a pulp. Cool fighting, lots of Peter whump, and of course the Avengers being protective.

Good publicity by Bergen - Between Peter Parker barely speaking, and Spider-Man being the ultimate chatterbox, how was Tony ever supposed to figure out that they were one and the same person?

Tony Stark is secretly a softie for cute kids, especially when they're a genius and have a sense of humour to rival his own. Peter is a foster kid who ends up finding a home with Pepper and Tony, very sweet.

The Third Option by Uncertainty_Principle - When Ben is murdered Peter goes into foster care. It takes just a tiny taste of superpowers for Peter to decide he doesn’t want to put up with his horrible foster father anymore—the streets are infinitely more appealing. All he wants is to be Spider-Man anyway.

So he leaves, simple.

Simple, that is, until Iron Man needs Spider-Man’s help.

Heavy TW for this one, mind the tags. This is a popular fic and for good reason. A very mature and realistic portrayal of the foster care system and homelessness. The Peter angst is really great and I could barely put it down, that boy needs a hug so bad.

Now here's some hydra!Peter fics cuz they're my jam:

Peter is a precious chickpea by Bergen - They attack the HYDRA safe house shortly before sunrise.

The only people defending said safe house are Peter and Leo, and Leo slams his cell door open and starts spitting out orders, but then promptly gets clobbered over the head and keels sideways.

So that just leaves Peter. And he’s not even going to try to fight a whole team of Avengers. He looks up at Iron Man filling the doorway. “I surrender.”

He’s never been captured before and he’s not sure what to do. Escape, probably.

This entire series is PERFECT. I just love how adorable Peter is, and all the relationships Peter forms with the Avengers absolutely melt my heart. Peter's characterization in this is really unique and I wish there was more. The Bucky and Peter friendship is everythingggg. I love hydra!peter and bucky fics.

Indoctrination by phoenixon - The Avengers thought they were on a typical assignment: Infiltrate the Hydra base and find the weapon. What they didn't expect was the small boy raised by Hydra that they found instead. And they definitely didn't expect him to stay at Avengers Tower or how he somehow wormed his way into their lives. As for Peter, he just wants to be good and obey what the Hydra men told him so he doesn't get in trouble.

I just really love hydra Peter changing into a sweet and intelligent boy once he's rescued and safe, and how all the Avengers take up such heart-warming parental roles around him.

out there, living in the sun by Hailfire_73 - The Avengers rescue Peter from a Hydra base ran by his father, Richard Parker, except Peter doesn't really see it as a rescue, and has trouble settling into a new life away from Hydra and his father at the Avengers compound. OR - Peter learns how to be an actual teenager, live life, and put his abusive past behind him, and Tony learns how to be a father.

Hydra Peter but he's most definitely a traumatized and moody teenager. I really enjoyed Peter's character arc and the exploration of his trauma. It felt more realistic the way his journey isn't just a straight or clear path. He's more mature in this one and it was a really compelling read, balancing the angst with some humour and fluff. Loved the ending.

Tinker, Tailor, Spider by Bergen - Tony is roped into a mission to transport a teenager to safety. But when things go south, it soon becomes more and more puzzling who the teenager is and what ‘safety’ means for him.

I really enjoy that the author doesn't water Peter being hydra down. Yes he is a highly skilled assassin and a badass who's trauma pervades his every thought and decision. Made me fall in love with the Tony, Pepper, Morgan and Peter as a family dynamic. Super domestic while still highlighting Peter's troubled past.

[theresstillgrowinghere]

I don’t often find I have much to say during chronic illness awareness months anymore. I’m tired. My words feel tired. I don’t feel like I have anything new to add. Sometimes I worry though that that in part comes from my having been in various digital chronic illness spaces for almost a decade. Of course it feels tired to me. There are things that rattle around my brain that feel so obvious and commonplace (and that have been said much more eloquently by others before me) but may still be worth expressing, just judging by the ways people in my life haven’t been able to understand

So for gastroparesis awareness month this year, there are a few things I want to note from my experiences (tw for food/eating, weight without numbers, medical trauma)

1) My relationship with food is so scarred and multifaceted. It is messy and thorny, conflicting and complicated

(I am scared of food. I miss food. I hate food. I want to eat so badly. I never want to think about eating again. Tell me in detail about how it tasted. I love food. Please don’t ask me to join you for a meal. I don’t want to miss the communal aspects of eating. I feel so disconnected and other and separate just because I don’t eat. Sometimes I do try to eat and it makes me sick. Don’t comment on it, please; it’s not helpful to scold or encourage - I feel shame either way)

2) There is no cure. There is only management. I think people understand this in theory more than actuality, because when I say this I mean please, please stop expecting any management option to be The Thing. Please don’t expect something to offer substantial improvement, even if it is a life-saving dramatic change. As I have tried to explain to people in my life, those types of interventions are often complicated and risky and, in our broken healthcare system, very difficult to access until the situation truly is dire and life-threatening. Which can mean that the body takes significant damage before getting there. Sometimes by the time you access the intervention, that damage is irreversible and the goal is just to stop further decline. It’s not making me better; it’s keeping me from getting worse. For some reason that’s difficult for people to understand

(But sometimes people do find what for them is The Thing or are The Things, and that’s an important piece of the whole picture. The problem is the persistence of unrealistic expectations among people around us)

3) My relationship with healthcare is vital but fraught and heavy. I rely on it tremendously just to stay alive. It is also my only in-person access to the world and to people, which is a weird kind of mindfuck. But I am also deeply afraid of it after so many years of trauma. I am terrified of hospitals and medical professionals. I’m sorry for the way that fear makes me irrational, makes me assume, makes me protect myself. I know so many medical professionals are so caring and kind, but it is very, very hard to go into a medical setting trusting that that will be the case

4) There are some things I wish truly were obvious. Like don’t comment on someone’s weight, ever. Don’t say you wish you could “have a little of that” to change your appearance. Don’t try to convince me to “just try to eat a little.” Trust that I know my body best. Don’t offer me unsolicited advice or recommendations. Don’t say “when you get to be my age…” because I will point out that, based on the amount of damage to my body already, it is very possible I will never reach your age. But more to the point, I am not too young to be this sick. It happens

Anyway, these are my 3am-notes-app, camped-out-on-the-bathroom-floor thoughts. It is also important to note that they exist in the context of my gastroparesis being born of and coexisting with my other chronic illnesses, and they all become so deeply entangled

Wishing everyone well. Hoping your August is kind and gentle

To everyone with gastroparesis (and other digestive disorders, really), I’m sorry your tummy hurts, and no, you actually don’t need to be very brave about it. As I heard someone say recently in a different context but definitely applies here as well, “We weren’t born to be fighters. I don’t want to be brave. I want to be okay.” I just want all of us to be okay

[gauloiseblue]

Despicable Man

(Perv!Graves × Reader)

[Dead Dove: Do Not Eat | Adult Content MDNI]

A continuation of Oral Fixation

TW: power abuse, unsolicited filming, rape threat

A/N: I just watched S1 of The Following (it sucks), and warren kole just infected my brain with mean!Graves. I just have to write it down, or I'll die of brainrot. Again, mind the tags. Don't read it if it's not your cup of tea.

This is the fourth time you hand in your resignation letter, and the third time he rips it to pieces.

"Can I give you some advice?" He said with a sneer, "If you want my attention, you wouldn't get it by writing these letters. You're wasting your time."

A vein pops up on your forehead, and you slam your hands against the table.

"What's wrong with you?" You shouted at him, "It's not a game, Graves. I'm not playing whatever it is you're playing, I'm quitting!"

"Whoa." He lifts his hands in a mocking manner as he leans on his chair, "You talk to your boss like this?"

"You're not my boss." You hissed.

"Legally, I'm still your boss." He pointed out, and you swore you felt your blood boil, "So don't talk to me like that."

"You think I fucking care?" You spat, "You're not my boss anymore because I'm leaving. Sue me all you want, I'm not gonna stay in a company that threw my grievance letters into the trash."

"Watch your mouth." He warned you with a tone that made you freeze. "I can still punish you if I want."

You open your mouth to speak, before you decide against it.

"Where do you think you're going?" He called out when you turned your heel, before striding towards the door.

"I'm leaving." You retorted, voice dripping with venom.

"No you're not." He stated. "Sit down."

"I'm not gonna sit down and listen to your bullshit." You glare as you push down the door handle, "I've had enough of it, I'm leavi—"

Your feet come to a halt when you see a man standing outside the door, blocking your way out. You recognize him from his black mask and athletic build—he's the commander's guard dog, Graves' most loyal bodyguard. You instinctively take a step back, as the man slowly stalks toward you.

You rattle your brain as you try to think of the reason why he's here, and why he locks the door behind while his eyes stay on you. Until you hear a voice from behind—saying the same words you've heard before, only it's darker, more dangerous this time.

"Sit down, (Name)."

Your hands were seized by the man before you could protest. He drags you from the door, and to the large desk where his boss sits. His grip on you is so strong, that it's impossible to escape him. And when he pushes you down to your seat, you lift your head and snarl at the man across the table.

"What's the meaning of this?"

He tilts his chin in a mocking manner, before he rises from his seat and walks round the table. "What's the meaning of this?" He purses his lips as he pretends to think, "I don't know, you tell me."

You jeeringly scoff at his question, "So is this how you take care of your problems? By threatening them until they withdraw from the case?"

"Oh no, not at all, mon cher. In fact, I want to help you."

You look at him as if you're listening to a mad man's ramble, but he only smirks as he continues.

"You see, I've… reviewed all of the accusations that you wrote against me, and I must admit, you're good at using the right terms." He uttered, "But, you forgot one thing. To win a case, you have to have concrete evidence."

When he turns his gaze on you, you feel your blood run cold, as you catch the subtext of his words.

"And the video that you sent as evidence? It doesn't have my face, mon cher. How are you gonna convince them that it's me? That it's my hand that slipped under your skirt, as I cornered you against the counter? Mind you, it's merely a touch, it couldn't be counted as sexual assault."

A satisfied smirk spreads on his face, as he sees resentment begins to fill your eyes, as well as bitter tears.

"You're smart, (Name). I always like that about you. You stubbornly wanted to prove my wrongdoings, you even brought a hidden cam for it. It's a shame the angle was wrong." He leans closer to whisper in your ear, "And it's a shame that no one cares."

Your glare turns dagger as he pulls away from you.

"Now that it didn't work out, you tried to leave the company. Guess what, mon cher? You need my signature for it." You clench your fist when you hear him chuckle, "In the end, you still need me for your escape."

He lets out a derisive 'whoa' when you're thrown back to your seat before you could punch him. You struggle against his bodyguard's grip, while you scream at him.

"Fuck you, Graves. Fuck you and your arse licking dogs."

"Alright," He sighs as he flicks his wrist, "Shut her up."

Your protest soon turns into a muffled shout, as your mouth is covered by a big hand. You wince when the grip on your jaws becomes too tight, and you claw the arm that slings around you from behind.

"Where were we? Oh." He rummages through his pocket, and pulls something up. Your eyes widen as you recognize the two items from the clink of the metals.

"As I told you before, I want to help you. But my service doesn't come cheap." He sneered as he stood in front of you, "You know that, do you?"

You start to thrash against the man's arm, trying to get away from him. But he seizes your hands so easily, and you watch in horror as he locks the handcuffs around them. Leaving one and a half inches of space between your wrists.

"There we go." You saw him smirk, before your vision came to a blur for a second. By the time you realize it, you've stooped on the ground, with a sore pain on your knees.

The man had pushed you down from your seat, and you heard the heavy drag of the chair from behind. You raise your head to protest, but the word dies down the moment you spot the handycam on his hand.

"Say hi, (Name)." He grinned as he pointed the camera at you.

The dark lens reflects your face, wide-eyed, and mouth agape. If a picture could show a thousand words, then it must've captured the paralyzing shock of your stare.

"You're insane." You whispered in disbelief, while he placed the cam on the table.

"You keep saying those words, darling. But do you even know what they mean?" He bends down to check the device, "What's insane for you, (Name)?"

An immediate answer comes up from your thought, but it dies down the moment it lands on your tongue.

"No words to say?" He sneered, "Where'd that attitude of yours have gone, hmm?"

He slowly circles around you, with a hungry flare in his eyes.

"Now, where were we?" You heard him flout, before you flinched at the sudden pat on your head. "Oh, right."

He seizes you by your chin, which makes you shout at the rough treatment. The urge to spat at him comes up to a boiling point, until you see the prominent bulge inside his pants.

"As I was saying, I'll help you get clear evidence for it. My face is already in the video, so the jury will no longer have to guesswork." He said with a smirk, "Of course, it'll become invalid if we're just conversing, right?"

The sound of click snaps you out of shock, and you watch in horror as his belt slips out of the loops.

"It'll be easier for you if you comply. But if you don't, we can always do this the hard way." He spoke in a low tone, as he shoved down his pants, "Open your mouth, or I'll ruin that pretty hole of yours."

[itstobias149]

Charater Dynamics

☘️Aran Ryan☘️

Hello everyone today I bring you another set of dynamics! According to our vote Aran Ryan is our winner! Now he is a character where I can do a lot with him story. This has to be one of my favorite dynamics that I have ever come up with. If you do not like oc’s, that’s okay! Just keep scrolling, not everyone does and that’s okay.

This post will not just contain the dynamic between Aran Ryan and Marie, but an exploration of the character himself through my eyes. Keep in mind that we all perceive these characters r differently! Anyway I hope you all enjoy!

Tw/ Depression, substance abuse, etc.

☘️The Basics☘️

Marie and Aran Ryan share a dynamic that is equal parts chaotic and tense, with a distinct undertone of unease on Marie’s part. Aran’s unpredictable and often unhinged nature makes him a wildcard in every situation, and while Marie has a knack for handling eccentric personalities, Aran’s brand of chaos puts her on edge. His erratic energy, sharp tongue, and tendency to turn even mundane moments into spectacles leave her unsure of how to navigate him—making her low-key scared of what he might do next.

Aran, for his part, likely finds Marie’s nervous reactions endlessly amusing. He thrives on the discomfort he creates, pushing boundaries with teasing comments or overly dramatic stunts just to see her squirm. Whether he’s making outrageous bets, dropping unsolicited advice, or egging her on in the ring, his relentless antics keep Marie constantly on guard. Her attempts to deflect his attention or avoid confrontation often backfire, as Aran seems to enjoy toying with her like a cat playing with its prey—not maliciously, but for his own twisted sense of entertainment.

Despite her fear, Marie can’t completely avoid Aran, especially in the close-knit world of the WVBA. This forces her into situations where she has to interact with him, leading to a tense kind of comedic interplay. Marie’s nervous humor and exasperated reactions only fuel Aran’s over-the-top personality, creating moments that are as uncomfortable for her as they are hilarious to everyone else.

At times, Aran’s wild energy might unintentionally push Marie to step out of her comfort zone. While she’d never admit it, there might be rare moments where she learns to handle his chaos in small doses—though her nerves never fully settle. Their dynamic is a precarious balancing act of Aran’s overwhelming presence and Marie’s attempts to navigate him without completely losing her composure, adding a layer of tension and unpredictability to their interactions.

☘️Meeting the Green Beast☘️

Marie’s first encounter with Aran Ryan as his cutman was an experience she wouldn’t soon forget. She’d been told to expect a handful when assigned to work with him for an upcoming match, but nothing could have prepared her for the whirlwind of chaos that was Aran. From the moment she stepped into his locker room, she was greeted with a mix of sarcastic comments, exaggerated gestures, and a wide grin that seemed to challenge her to keep up.

“Ah, so you’re the one they sent to patch me up, eh?” he said, sizing her up with a gleam in his eye. “Hope you’ve got steady hands, love. I tend to give the poor souls in your line of work plenty to do.”

Marie wasn’t sure if she should laugh or walk right back out the door, but she held her ground. “I’ve worked with worse,” she replied, trying to match his energy, though the nerves in her voice betrayed her.

The match itself was nothing short of exhausting—for both of them. Aran fought like he lived: recklessly and with a flair for the dramatic. Every round was a spectacle, with Aran taunting his opponent, gesturing to the crowd, and barely dodging hits in a way that made Marie’s heart stop. By the time he stumbled back to the corner, bleeding from his lip and grinning like he’d just won the lottery, Marie could hardly believe he was still standing.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you keep fighting like that,” she muttered, wiping the blood from his face and working quickly to reduce the swelling around his eye.

“Ah, but where’s the fun in playin’ it safe?” he shot back, winking at her despite the growing bruise on his cheek. “Keeps things exciting, don’t it?”

Marie rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the flicker of unease that settled in her chest. There was something unsettling about how carefree he was, as though he didn’t care about the toll it was taking on his body—or worse, that he thought he deserved it.

By the end of the match, Aran had won in spectacular fashion, much to the crowd’s delight and Marie’s exasperation. As they walked back to the locker room, he glanced over at her with a lopsided grin. “Not bad, eh? Looks like we make a good team.”

Marie wasn’t so sure about that, but she couldn’t deny there was something compelling about him, even if he terrified her just a little. In the days that followed, she found herself replaying their first meeting in her mind, wondering if there was more to the loud, unpredictable boxer than met the eye.

☘️More then let on☘️

Outside the WVBA’s chaotic spotlight, Marie’s dynamic with Aran takes on a more thoughtful, albeit tentative, tone. Despite her nervousness around him, Marie occasionally sees through his bombastic behavior, catching glimpses of something deeper beneath his antics. She’s perceptive enough to recognize that Aran’s wild energy and constant need for attention might be masking something more vulnerable. In quieter moments, away from the crowd, she finds herself compelled to ask him if he’s really okay, her concern genuine despite her usual unease around him.

These rare interactions are a stark contrast to their usual chaotic exchanges. Aran, unused to being confronted so directly, might brush her off with a joke or deflect with his usual bravado. But Marie’s persistence—gentle yet firm—could chip away at his defenses, if only for a moment. Her sincerity might leave him surprised, perhaps even caught off guard, as he realizes that she genuinely cares about him, even if she doesn’t fully understand him.

For Marie, these moments of connection are both unsettling and important. She worries about Aran not just because of his erratic behavior, but because she sees the potential for him to spiral if left unchecked. Despite her own discomfort, she’s willing to step outside her comfort zone to offer him a listening ear, even if she’s unsure he’ll take it. These moments don’t resolve the tension between them, but they add depth to their dynamic, revealing a shared humanity beneath the chaos.

Aran Ryan’s mental health is a complex and fragile thing, hidden behind layers of bravado and mischief. On the surface, he thrives on chaos, reveling in his reputation as the unpredictable wild card of the WVBA. He’s loud, he’s reckless, and he seems utterly unbothered by the opinions of others. But beneath the surface, Aran’s constant need for attention and his over-the-top antics may stem from a deep sense of inadequacy and isolation. He’s the type to laugh the loudest in the room, but only because he’s terrified of what might surface in the silence.

Aran likely struggles with feelings of being misunderstood, or worse, entirely overlooked. His antics might be a way to demand acknowledgment, a plea to remind the world that he’s there, that he matters. At the same time, this relentless energy masks a fear of vulnerability—of being seen for who he really is. His life in the spotlight may amplify these insecurities, as he pushes himself harder and harder to maintain the persona of the charismatic troublemaker, even when it starts to take a toll on him.

Behind closed doors, Aran might feel the weight of his own loneliness. For all his charm and bravado, meaningful connections could elude him. He likely struggles with opening up, unsure of how to let people past the walls he’s built with humor and theatrics. When he’s alone, the cracks in his facade begin to show, and he’s left with a restlessness he doesn’t quite know how to handle. It’s easier to keep moving, keep joking, and keep distracting himself than to face whatever’s lurking in the stillness.

This internal battle likely leaves Aran in a constant state of emotional exhaustion, though he’s quick to hide it. His energy seems boundless, but it comes at a cost—a cycle of highs where he thrives in the chaos and lows where he’s left grappling with his own doubts. The rare moments when his guard slips reveal a man who’s far more complex and vulnerable than he lets on, someone who might desperately need help but doesn’t know how to ask for it.

Aran’s mental health struggles might not be visible to most, as he expertly deflects with wit and theatrics. But for those who look closely, the signs are there: the subtle cracks in his confidence, the way his energy falters when he thinks no one’s watching, and the quiet pain hidden behind his grin. Beneath all the noise, Aran is a man at odds with himself, unsure of how to reconcile the person he shows the world with the one he faces in the mirror.

☘️Smokes and booze☘️

Ryan’s vices of smoking and drinking are a quiet storm he carries everywhere he goes. On the surface, they seem like typical bad habits—easy to dismiss in a world where everyone has their struggles. But for Ryan, they are more than that; they are coping mechanisms born from years of unresolved battles within himself. The cigarettes are his escape, each drag a moment of clarity amidst the chaos in his mind, while the alcohol serves as his way of numbing emotions he’d rather not feel.

It started small—one drink after a fight to “take the edge off,” one cigarette on a rough day. But over time, these habits became part of his routine, a crutch he relied on to deal with the pressures of his life and the mistakes he’s made. The regrets? They pile up, each one heavier than the last. There was the time he lashed out at a teammate during training after one too many drinks, the words sharper and crueler than he ever intended. He still remembers the look of betrayal on their face, a wound he’s never been able to repair.

And then there are the nights he drank alone, the haze of the alcohol convincing him to send messages he should’ve never sent or to pick fights he wasn’t proud of. Those mornings, with a pounding headache and the weight of shame pressing down on him, are the ones that stick with him most. He regrets the bridges he burned, the friendships he strained, and the missed opportunities to be better because he let his vices win.

But the deepest regrets come from the times he sees the impact his habits have on the people who care about him—Marie, for example, catching him smoking outside the gym late one night. Her quiet disappointment hurt more than any punch he’d ever taken in the ring. She didn’t scold him or lecture him, just stood there, her presence alone enough to make him feel exposed.

Ryan knows his habits are a problem. He’s tried to quit before, promising himself that each drink would be the last, that he’d crush his last cigarette and move on. But the cycle is hard to break, and the regret is a constant companion. He’s not proud of what he’s done or the ways he’s hurt himself and others because of it. Still, in the quiet moments, when the smoke clears and the haze lifts, there’s a part of him that hopes—hopes that he can find the strength to be better, even if it’s one small step at a time.

Ryan’s vices didn’t come out of nowhere; they were born from a life that often left him feeling like he had no other way to cope. Growing up, he was taught to be tough, to push through pain and never let weakness show. But that kind of pressure came at a cost. He didn’t have an outlet for his emotions, and over time, they started to fester. The expectations, the failures, the loneliness—it all built up, and he had nowhere to put it.

Smoking came first, during his teenage years. It was small at first, something to do when the silence felt too loud or when the weight of his thoughts became unbearable. It wasn’t even about the nicotine at first; it was about the ritual, the way it gave him a moment to himself, something he could control. Each cigarette felt like a pause button on everything else in his life, even if it was just for a few minutes.

Drinking came later, after he joined the WVBA. The pressure to perform, to maintain his reputation, and to always be at his best wore him down. The sport brought him purpose, but it also magnified his insecurities. Every fight was a test, not just of his strength but of his worth. When he felt like he didn’t measure up—or even when he did but the satisfaction was fleeting—the bottle became an easy refuge. Drinking wasn’t just about dulling the pain; it was about silencing the doubts that crept in late at night.

Ryan also started drinking as a way to fit in. The culture around the sport often encouraged it—celebrating wins with rounds of drinks, drowning losses in a similar fashion. At first, it felt harmless, just another part of the life he’d chosen. But over time, it became more than that. Drinking turned into something he did when he was alone, too, when the applause had faded and the reality of his struggles set in.

There’s guilt tied to the reasons he started. He knows that, deep down, he turned to smoking and drinking because he didn’t know how to ask for help. The habits feel like a crutch he leaned on for too long, but in some ways, they’re also reminders of the battles he’s faced—ones he’s still trying to figure out how to win.

☘️Leave the Lady alone☘️

Aran Ryan’s loyalty to Marie, though often buried under layers of teasing and chaos, shows itself in unexpected ways—especially when she’s not around. In the loud, ego-driven world of the WVBA, it’s rare for anyone to defend someone without personal gain, but Aran does it for Marie instinctively, without hesitation.

One evening, after a match, the locker room was alive with the usual post-fight chatter, but the conversation turned sour when a few boxers started throwing casual, dismissive comments about Marie. They called her too soft to keep up with the fast-paced life of the WVBA, implying that her nerves and occasional awkwardness made her unfit for the job. Aran, leaning back against the lockers with his usual smirk, suddenly went quiet, his sharp green eyes narrowing.

“Say what you want about her,” he interrupted, his tone deceptively light but carrying an edge that cut through the noise, “but she’s better at her job than half of you are at yours.” The room fell silent, the playful chaos replaced by a sudden tension.

One of the boxers scoffed. “What’s it to you, Ryan? She your new best friend or somethin’?”

Aran stood up, his grin curling into something more dangerous. “Nah,” he said, his voice calm but laced with warning. “I just don’t like it when people run their mouths about someone who works harder than they’ll ever bother to.” He shrugged, stepping closer to the group. “Besides, she’s tougher than you lot give her credit for. You’d know that if you paid attention instead of flappin’ your gums.”

With that, he turned on his heel and left the room, leaving the group too stunned to respond. As he walked out into the night, the tension in his shoulders eased, and a familiar tune hummed itself into his mind—“She’s Always a Woman to Me” by Billy Joel. The song had wormed its way into his head ever since he’d first seen Marie working, her careful hands and nervous humor contrasting with the relentless chaos of their world. He wouldn’t admit it, but the song reminded him of her in ways he didn’t fully understand.

She didn’t need to be there to know he had her back, and Aran liked it that way. Defending her wasn’t about scoring points or looking good—it was just something he felt compelled to do. For all his bluster and unpredictability, there was a quiet, unspoken respect he held for her, one he wasn’t sure he’d ever fully put into words. Instead, he let his actions speak for him, even when she wasn’t there to see.

☘️Song Association ☘️

For Aran, “She’s Always a Woman to Me” became more than just a song—it became a secret code, a way of understanding Marie when he couldn’t quite put her into words. He didn’t know what it was about the song that stuck to him so deeply. Maybe it was the vulnerability beneath the lyrics, the raw truth that people like him—tough, loud, always putting on a show—rarely let anyone see. The way Billy Joel’s words described a woman who could be both tough and tender, a paradox of strength and softness, resonated with something deep inside Aran. It was as if the song could see Marie the way he saw her—complex, layered, and unknowable.

He wasn’t the type to open up about feelings—least of all to Marie. His bravado, the constant need to make everything a spectacle, was all part of the armor he built to protect himself. But that song—her song—had a way of breaking through his defenses. Every time it played, he’d find himself lost in the lyrics, trying to reconcile the image of Marie that he kept tucked away in the quietest parts of his mind.

“She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes…”

At first, he dismissed the line as a silly romantic notion, something that didn’t apply to her at all. But as he thought about it, the more it made sense. Marie didn’t need to throw punches to be powerful. She had this quiet way of commanding respect, a kind of sharpness in her gaze that cut through the bullshit and revealed truths people weren’t ready to face. Aran knew that firsthand—he’d seen it in her, especially when she was around people who underestimated her. She didn’t let them see her fear, her hesitation. She just stood her ground and carried on, even when she felt like she was drowning.

But it wasn’t just the moments of strength that made Aran connect with the song. It was the contradictions. Marie had her moments of doubt, of second-guessing herself, of feeling completely out of place in the chaos she found herself surrounded by. She hid it well—always smiling, always acting like she was in control. But Aran saw through it. He knew that, sometimes, her smile was a mask, a shield to keep the world from seeing how deeply unsure she was of everything around her.

“She hides like a child, but she’s always a woman to me…”

The line hit him like a punch in the gut, its truth so stark and raw that he had to look away the first time he heard it. Marie, in her own way, was both tough and fragile—like a child trying to navigate a world too big for her, but with the quiet wisdom of someone who had already seen more than she should have. There was something about the way she approached the world, so tentative but so unrelenting at the same time, that reminded him of himself—how he hid his own insecurities behind laughter and showmanship, never letting anyone get close enough to see the cracks.

It was in the moments when he watched her work, when she carefully tended to his wounds with the utmost precision, that Aran began to understand what the song really meant. She wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t here for glory, or praise, or attention. She was here because, in her own quiet way, she cared. And that made her different from everyone else. The song wasn’t about idolizing her; it was about seeing her complexity. It was about understanding that beneath the chaos, the teasing, and the tension, there was someone who was constantly fighting to hold it all together, even when no one else noticed.

Aran never spoke about the song to anyone. It remained his silent truth, the melody that played in his mind when he saw her, when he thought about the way she navigated the chaos of his world without ever letting it consume her. He couldn’t tell her that he understood her, or that she was more important to him than he was willing to admit, but the song said everything he couldn’t. In a world that constantly demanded more from him, it was the one thing that grounded him and reminded him that, despite everything, Marie was something real—a constant in the ever-shifting madness of the WVBA.

The line “She can bring out the best and the worst you can be…” became one of the most hauntingly accurate descriptions of Marie in Aran’s mind. It wasn’t just about her presence or her actions, but the way she unknowingly altered the course of his behavior, both in the ring and outside of it.

Marie had this subtle power over Aran, not in a manipulative sense, but in the way her existence forced him to reckon with his own contradictions. When she was around, there was something about her that pushed him to be more than the cocky, reckless fighter everyone expected him to be. Her quiet strength, her refusal to back down from the chaos even when she seemed overwhelmed, made Aran want to do better—be better. He found himself stepping back, taking a breath, and thinking twice before making a brash decision. She brought out the best in him in those moments, pushing him toward self-reflection, if only for a fleeting second.

But at the same time, there were times when her quiet intensity made him act out in ways he wasn’t proud of. In a strange way, she seemed to unsettle him—her calm confidence and her refusal to bend made him feel exposed, like he wasn’t enough. The more he tried to show off, to be the larger-than-life personality that everyone expected, the more he realized he was trying to keep up with her without really understanding why. Her disinterest in his antics—the way she barely reacted to his theatrics—made him act out in ways that were childish and desperate. He’d taunt her, show off, and try to get under her skin, all because he didn’t know how to handle the fact that, in some ways, he saw her as untouchable, above the noise of his own insecurities.

Her presence—quiet, steady, and always so grounded—brought out both the best and worst in him. There were days when he caught himself thinking, Why am I doing this?—and it was usually when he realized that, in the face of her unshakable composure, he felt like he was crumbling just a little. She never demanded anything from him, yet there he was, putting on a show that felt more and more like a mask.

It wasn’t just about their interactions, either. In the larger picture, the line encapsulated the effect she had on his world. Whenever she was around, there was a shift—a challenge, really. Her presence forced him to confront the parts of himself he usually buried under noise, antics, and bravado. Sometimes that made him want to rise to the occasion, to be someone who could stand beside her without feeling so small. Other times, it made him act out, to lash out and try to regain control, even when he knew he wasn’t really in control at all.

The duality of it left Aran torn—drawn to her quiet power, yet equally frustrated by it. He never fully understood why she had this effect on him, why she could bring out sides of him he didn’t even recognize. But every time that line from the song played in his mind, he couldn’t deny it. Marie did bring out the best and the worst in him, and though he fought against it, deep down, he knew it was one of the most honest things about their connection.

The line “She’s always a woman to me” had become an anchor in Aran’s mind, a quiet truth that lingered, even when he tried to distance himself from it. It was a paradox, really—he knew that Marie wasn’t someone he could fully understand, someone whose presence both unsettled and grounded him in ways he couldn’t articulate. But regardless of the complexities or contradictions, she was always a woman to him, and that was something deeper than attraction, something that defied explanation.

It wasn’t just that she was a woman in the traditional sense—it was that she was a person in the truest form, a force that couldn’t be pigeonholed or reduced to any single label. Aran knew Marie was interesting, yes, but she was also so much more than that. She wasn’t defined by her role in the WVBA, by the chaos around her, or by the way people underestimated her. She was a person whose every action, no matter how small, felt imbued with a quiet depth that Aran couldn’t ignore. She didn’t need to impress anyone, and yet she always left an impression.

The beauty of the line was in its simplicity: she’s always a woman to me. It didn’t require further explanation. No matter how chaotic, how offbeat, or how out of place Aran sometimes felt in his own life, Marie remained a constant—a force, a presence, that shaped his world. She was always herself in a way that he couldn’t quite replicate, couldn’t mimic or understand fully. Yet, despite all of her layers, all the complexity and distance, Aran found himself irrevocably drawn to her. And in some strange, quiet part of him, he knew this draw was more than surface-level attraction—it was something that transcended the superficial, something that settled deep in his chest.

His love for her wasn’t something he could define with clear words. It wasn’t the kind of love that demanded reciprocation or even understanding. It was an unspoken truth, a deep-rooted connection that existed outside of the mess they found themselves in. Aran wasn’t sure how or why it happened. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, her quiet strength that made him want to protect her, or the way she never let the world break her down. Or perhaps it was the way she made him confront himself—the best and worst parts of him—that somehow brought him closer to her, even when he didn’t quite understand why.

But no matter how hard he tried to push it away, Aran knew that Marie was always a woman to him. She was a person he could never fully explain, a person who was both an enigma and a simple truth all at once. And while the full depths of his feelings for her might never be known—even to himself—he was certain of one thing: his connection to her was something that would always remain. In her quiet way, she was the most interesting, the most compelling, and the most real thing in his world. And in the end, that was enough.

☘️Moments between the two☘️

Aran and Marie’s interactions, though often unspoken, were punctuated by moments of quiet understanding, unacknowledged affection, and the occasional chaos they both found themselves caught up in. Their dynamic wasn’t one of overt declarations or grand gestures; rather, it was shaped by subtle exchanges, glances, and actions that spoke louder than words ever could.

1. The Unexpected Moment of Care

One late evening after a particularly brutal match, Aran found himself sitting in a quiet corner of the gym, wrapping his hands. The fight had been grueling, and the adrenaline was wearing off, leaving him with a dull ache in his muscles. Marie, who had been attending to another fighter, moved toward him, her presence almost serene in the chaos of the gym. Without a word, she handed him a bottle of water. Aran glanced up at her, his usual smirk not quite making it to his face. He noticed the way she kept her distance, her gaze not lingering too long, but enough to convey a silent understanding.

“You’re not looking too good,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of concern, though she tried to mask it with her usual quiet calm.

Aran chuckled, the sound rough from the fight. “When have I ever looked good?” He took the water, but instead of drinking immediately, he just held it in his hands for a moment, letting the gesture sink in. Marie didn’t ask for anything in return, didn’t demand attention or recognition. She just was. And in that simple moment, Aran couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude, though he’d never say it out loud.

2. The Song That Played

Later that night, the gym’s speakers hummed to life as the cleaning crew moved about. Aran, sitting in the bleachers, was zoning out when the familiar strains of “She’s Always a Woman to Me” began to play softly in the background. He paused, the familiar melody pulling his focus. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but hearing it now, in the quiet of the gym after the chaos of the fight, it felt like something in his chest shifted.

Marie, walking by with a clipboard in hand, froze for a moment when she heard the song too. She glanced in his direction, her eyes meeting his briefly, before she continued on with her task. There was something about that brief exchange—those few seconds where their worlds seemed to align in the stillness of the moment—that spoke volumes. Aran didn’t know if she had any idea what that song meant to him, or if she even noticed the way he watched her. But in that instant, he couldn’t help but wonder if she somehow felt the weight of the connection between them.

3. The Silent Protectiveness

One evening, while Marie was busy tending to a fighter’s cuts in the ring, Aran overheard a group of boxers making some offhand comments about her—laughing at her “awkward” nature, questioning how she could possibly handle the intensity of the sport. Aran’s expression darkened, and without a word, he stormed over to them, silencing their taunts with a sharp, “Shut up.”

They looked at him, confused, as if to say, What’s it to you? Aran didn’t elaborate, but his voice had enough of an edge to make them back off. The moment was over as quickly as it had started, and Aran returned to his spot in the gym, but his eyes remained on Marie. She hadn’t heard the comments, or if she had, she didn’t show it. Still, there was something about her calm that made Aran feel a need to protect her, even if she never asked for it.

4. The Unspoken Understanding After Chaos

After a particularly messy event involving a press conference that ended with spilled drinks and heated arguments, Aran found Marie sitting alone on the bleachers in the corner of the gym. She was rubbing her temples, clearly exhausted by the frenzy of the evening. He didn’t ask her if she was okay—he knew better. Instead, he sat beside her, a comfortable distance between them.

For a while, they said nothing. He could hear her breathing slow, a sign that she was calming down, and though the silence between them was thick with unspoken words, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Aran’s gaze was distant, lost in the noise of his own thoughts. He didn’t know if he could offer her any comfort, but in that moment, he felt connected to her in a way that words could never fully capture. She didn’t ask for anything from him, but her presence had a way of making everything feel less overwhelming. He didn’t try to fix anything. He just sat there, letting the silence stretch between them until it wasn’t so heavy.

5. The Glance That Said It All

One evening, after a particularly brutal training session, Aran caught sight of Marie in the hallway, looking tired but determined as she walked past him. There was a certain fire in her eyes that always intrigued him—something that made her seem unstoppable, even when she didn’t feel that way. Their eyes met for just a fraction of a second, and in that brief moment, something unspoken passed between them.

It wasn’t love in the romantic sense, nor was it something he could define clearly. But in her gaze, there was an understanding—an acknowledgment of something deeper, something they both carried but never spoke about. Aran didn’t look away, and for a second, it felt like time had paused just for them. Then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and Marie was gone, off to tend to another fighter or some other task that needed her attention. Aran, however, was left with that single glance—a reminder that, no matter what happened, she would always be her, and he would always be him, and that, somehow, was enough.

Each of these moments, though seemingly small, shaped the unspoken bond between Aran and Marie. There was no grand revelation, no dramatic confessions. Just quiet exchanges, where their connection was understood, not explained. And though Aran never fully understood the depth of his feelings for her, the truth was simple: he loved her in a way he could never define, but it was real, undeniable, and, in its own way, perfect.

☘️The moments the made it☘️

☘️Trying to Sober Him Up☘️

It was late night, after another grueling day of training, the gym nearly empty, almost a sanctuary for the two of them. Aran had been drinking heavily that evening—trying to drown out the frustration from an ongoing, unsolvable issue in his life. He had stumbled into the locker room, laughing loudly at some joke only he understood, but it was clear by the way his movements were uncoordinated that he was more than tipsy.

Marie, having finished her work for the night, had been about to leave when she caught the sound of his voice. She paused, her gaze shifting toward the locker room. It wasn’t unusual for Aran to act out, but the way he was stumbling, his laughter bordering on manic, made her pause.

She walked quietly toward him, watching as he attempted to steady himself on the bench, slurring words to no one in particular. Marie didn’t say anything immediately, but her eyes softened. She had seen him like this before—acting out, masking something beneath the bravado, but she never got to the core of it. She sighed and crossed her arms.

“You’re gonna regret this in the morning,” she said, her voice steady and calm, though there was an edge of concern.

Aran’s head snapped in her direction, and he smiled widely. “Marie! Come on, don’t be such a buzzkill,” he slurred, his words barely coherent.

Marie didn’t bite. She knelt down beside him, taking a deep breath. “You’ve had enough,” she said firmly, though there was no judgment in her voice, just a quiet concern.

Aran, in his haze, wasn’t able to read her tone properly, but he could hear the softness beneath the sternness. There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes as he swayed. “You’re no fun,” he muttered.

“Maybe,” she said, her hand gently guiding him to stand. “But I’m getting you sober. Now sit still.”

She helped him to the bathroom, finding a towel to drape over his face to cool him off, offering him water every few minutes, talking softly to him about anything but the reasons he was drinking. For a while, it felt like a role reversal. Normally, it was him guiding others, offering advice in his usual cocky way. But tonight, it was Marie who had the reins. She wasn’t trying to force him into a conversation he wasn’t ready for, but in her quiet way, she was making sure he was taken care of, even when he couldn’t take care of himself. They sat together dress in the shower, back against the wall facing each other. Absolute Silence.

It wasn’t a victory, but it was a moment of understanding—one that passed silently between them, with no words needed other than the occasional check-in. By the time Aran finally started to feel the effects of sobriety, he could see the care in Marie’s eyes, even if he couldn’t name it. And though he was too stubborn to say it, he appreciated the fact that, for once, someone had his back when he needed it the most.

☘️Crying and Smoking☘️

It was one of those nights when the weight of everything seemed to crush down on Marie. The pressure of the WVBA, the chaos of her life, and the never-ending responsibilities were beginning to overwhelm her. She needed a moment to herself, so she slipped outside the gym, unnoticed by most, to the back alley. There, she lit a cigarette, taking a long drag, her hand shaking slightly as she tried to steady her nerves. The cool night air did nothing to ease the fire building in her chest, but for the moment, she just needed to feel something—anything other than the stress that had been slowly suffocating her.

Marie didn’t expect anyone to find her. She had always been the quiet one, the one who carried her burdens without asking for help. But the night was unusually still, and the sound of footsteps echoed from the alleyway. She didn’t look up at first, thinking it was just a passerby. But when the figure stopped next to her, she recognized the deep voice.

“You know, you’re not supposed to smoke that stuff,” Aran said, his tone light but laced with something else she couldn’t quite place.

Marie stiffened, the cigarette halfway to her lips. She didn’t want to deal with anyone tonight—especially not Aran. But as much as she wanted to dismiss him, she didn’t.

“I’m not in the mood for company,” she said quietly, taking another drag of the cigarette, hoping he’d take the hint.

Aran ignored the tone. “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask if you were in the mood.”

There was a moment of silence. Marie glanced over at him, surprised. Aran wasn’t the type to just sit in silence, not usually anyway. But there he was, standing beside her without judgment, leaning against the wall with his hands in his pockets. His gaze wasn’t pitying—just an odd kind of understanding that caught her off guard.

“Long day?” he asked casually, but there was an underlying softness in his voice.

Marie exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to the ground. “You have no idea,” she murmured, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her chest.

Aran didn’t ask more questions. Instead, he leaned back against the wall next to her and, without saying a word, lit a cigarette of his own. They stood there together in silence for a while, the smoke curling up into the air, the sounds of the world outside fading into the background.

For once, Marie didn’t feel the need to hide. She didn’t need to pretend that she was fine, that she had everything under control. Aran, in his own quiet way, understood that. And for the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she had to carry the burden of everything on her own. She didn’t need him to fix anything; she just needed the silence, the presence of someone who wasn’t trying to change her, to make her talk. He would take his cigarette and Marie’s and toss them onto the snow before stomping them with a grunt. He then squeezed her shoulder before going back inside.

The two of them stood there in the cool night, neither of them speaking much, just sharing the moment. And while the conversation was light, almost nonchalant, there was something comforting in the shared silence—a reminder that, in this strange, difficult world, they weren’t alone.

☘️summary☘️

Aran and Marie’s dynamic is defined by quiet understanding and unspoken care. Aran, often distant and guarded, finds in Marie a steady presence, someone who doesn’t try to fix him but simply is—someone who offers quiet support when he needs it, whether he’s drunk or dealing with his inner struggles. Marie, on the other hand, carries her own burdens but is vulnerable in her rare moments of weakness, when Aran finds her, not needing to fix anything but just to stand beside her. Their bond is unspoken, a mixture of protection, silence, and unacknowledged affection.

A Final Peek into Their Dynamic

One evening, after a particularly tough match, Aran sat alone on a bench, nursing his bruises. Marie was still busy tending to other fighters, but when she noticed him sitting there in the corner, she made her way over. Without a word, she handed him a cold compress for his face.

“Not gonna thank me, are you?” she said, a soft smile on her lips.

Aran smirked but didn’t meet her eyes. “Not really in the mood.”

Marie didn’t push him. She just sat next to him, her presence as grounding as always. There were no grand gestures—no words of comfort. Just the quiet of the moment, with the shared understanding that they were both there for each other, in their own way. In that silence, Aran felt something he rarely allowed himself to: peace.

I hope you guys enjoyed this post! This is one of my favorite dynamics. The understanding they have and the mutual respect even when he’s giving her a hard time. Let me know what you guys think!

-Tobias

[kikyan]

Yandere Pomefiore Headcanons

TW/CW: Dark Content up ahead!! Yandere content specifically!! Themes will include but not be limited to, yandere, possessiveness, violence towards reader or characters, manipulation, mentions of stalking, obsession, etc. (I think that should be it but unless I'm missing something please do let me know!!) Please proceed with caution!!

DISCLAIMER: These are my interpretations of his/her/their persona and none of these is 100% accurate. I don't condone any of these actions in real life and all of this is purely fictional and should be taken as such! Underage characters will ONLY be given SFW headcanons, please respect this decision!

Banner made by @herestrish please don't steal my bestie worked hard on it and I love them so much :((

Vil Schoenheit

Beautiful Vil indeed, Vil is one of the characters who I feel relate to the most. His desire to be the fairest is rooted in the ideology that he has to work twice as hard for the praise that comes at no cost for Niege. Vil’s S/O would be someone who can see past that, maybe someone who can see the ‘ugliest’ parts of him but still want to be with him. Someone that can accept Vil for himself. With that said, he’s a manipulative, possessive, and overprotective yandere. 

It needs to be said that Vil is probably the most reliable housewarden here. I feel like he’s the type you should go to for advice because he tells it to you straight. He doesn’t sweeten his tone or downplay the situation to spare your feelings, he’s direct. The best way I can describe Vil and Neige is that Neige is cute, and Vil is hot. Niege is the cutesy persona, the kind and charismatic main character that you can’t help but root for in every situation. He’s literally the one who beats the villain with the power of friendship. Vil is a sophisticated and respected individual, the one who worked hard to get what they have, because of this. . .he’s often made to play the role of a villain. The one who is blinded by greed and stops at nothing to prevent the MC from getting what they want. That’s the role he plays. His S/O would be someone who sees past that, long story short someone who can respect and love Vil for himself rather than some silly persona he’s been pushed to play. Someone who can see Vil in the worst light but accepts him. You see the ugly but rather than shy away from it you learn to embrace it. 

I don’t want to say that he’s manipulative to the extent that Jamil might be, but he’s good with words. Pomefiore is a dorm that radiates beauty, not just physical appearance but how one carries themselves. This makes sense when in book 5 he talks to the others about skincare and even reminds Epel that ballet isn’t exactly a gendered sport. Beauty is how someone carries themselves, what they reveal when facing a tough situation, and how they view themselves and others, that’s beauty. If his S/O ever had a doubt, they would seek Vil’s opinion first. Of course, he knows more and his opinion is highly valued. His manipulation isn’t too complex but it follows the ideology that if a stranger gave an unsolicited opinion you won’t pay too much attention. Still, if a trusted friend gave it, you’d be inclined to trust them more. Under his guidance, Vil will slowly alter your mindset as well as your opinions of others. He’s Vil, he has a keen eye for these things after all. Vil says things straightforwardly so you know he’s being honest, that’s gotta count for something! So while it’s not a big thing at the moment, his words start to weave themselves into your conscious decisions. He’s not someone you would doubt, much less disobey. 

He’s quite possessive. In the way Jamil doesn’t want to give his S/O up, he can’t stand the idea of someone taking you away from him! Vil is quite infatuated with you, you see. The one thing he wants is standing right in front of him, he’s not letting his opportunity go by. He’ll start by conviving you to spend time with him. You’re failing your potions class? Vil can offer to help but it won’t come for free! The occasional fashion advice or skin care opinion, always offering to teach you the ropes and how to accessorize. Granted if you don’t ask for it nor actively seek it, he’ll never push his opinions onto you. If you do however ask for his advice, he’ll make a tight schedule that takes up your time and includes himself in the mix. Would he isolate you from others? No, but he would drop some side comments that might make you reconsider who you should be hanging around with. The choice is yours but he’s quite persuasive. He would never let Neige know of you, he can’t risk you becoming a fan or choosing Niege over himself. He just can’t let that happen. This ties in with his over-protectiveness, he’s by no means a pushover. With fame comes risk and Vil is more than qualified and prepared to ensure your safety. In the event that he does go public with your relationship (which he will), some crazed fan might send something to you! 

Overall, there are no traits that I can use to define how dangerous Vil can be as a yandere. Vil would probably force you to go through some rigorous training, anything that proves your loyalty to him. I think it’s what he values the most. Loyalty to him. Once you prove you can be trusted, Vil might start to expose bits and pieces of himself to you but don’t get your hopes up. Does Vil want to be worshiped? Yes, but he wants you to love him. It has to be you, nobody else can suffice. Nobody else sees Vil the way you see him and that’s what he wants. He wants your eyes to be on him, He’s in the spotlight and you’re the only member of the audience that he yearns for. Don’t let your gaze wander, keep your eyes focused on him. While it’s your attention and affection that he yearns for, he by no means will resort to groveling. He has too much pride (though maybe in extreme feelings and conditions, he may but unlikely at the moment) and I feel like it contradicts his ideology of working to earn. If it’s your affection he wants he’ll work hard and strive to gain. Do I think he may have a moment where he slips up? Yes, like in book 5, that wasn’t supposed to happen but it did. He had the idea of beating Niege at a dance competition but towards the end almost took his ass out. I feel like it starts to be futile, normal means of gaining your affection aren’t working, or keeping your love he may stoop down to using potions. Designed as ‘sharing’ snacks and drinks, he may slip in a potion that will make you agree or idolize Vil to a certain extent. He by no means will buy your love or use cheap tactics to earn it, but he may fall into a fear that you may leave him resulting in a potion to keep your love. 

Also, I realized that with these headcanons I don’t exactly highlight something that makes them unique, but I will start doing that with the remaining characters! Vil, what makes him unique is that he’s as suffocating as the poisons he makes. He’ll slowly start making his way into your life and cloud your senses. Anything and everything you do is for Vil. The air you breathe is for Vil. He demands absolute loyalty (as I’ve repeated countless times but I can’t organize for shit) and that loyalty is slowly woven into your routine. You use his skin care, you style your clothes a certain way because Vil told you. You style and accessorize yourself according to his recommendations because Vil is right. You act the way Vil would appreciate (in your eyes because I'm a huge believer they will love you for being you), and you are dedicated to him. The most unique thing about this is that it’s all according to Vil’s design. He managed to flip the table and make YOU seek him out rather than him doing all the hard work. 

These headcanons probably don’t do him justice but on the scale, he’d be an 8/10. It’s Vil, he would never show such unsightly behavior and I think that is where people would fall for it. If anything I think pomefiore is a dorm that can show multiple faces. They hold themselves to such a standard that at first glance, they could never do that! He excels at potions and poisons so he is quite a danger to others and his S/O. His manipulation is hidden under the guise that Vil is only helping you out. It’s Vil, sure some of the things he says might sound rude but he’s just being honest. His reputation does help him conceal his true behavior. His love is suffocating and overpowering. Surely you can learn to accept this ugly Vil as you would the beautiful Vil.  Not to mention, he’s clouding your mind to the point all you can think about is him (managed to save these headcanons because I thought the song Aishite X3 (I’m typing all that out) and how I personally feel Vil would relate to it on some form.

After editing these headcanons I came to the horrifying truth that this sounds like Nate and Cassie’s relationship in euphoria. . . shit. Oh! Before I forget, on the rope-chain-saw scale I think he would be chain. He isn’t one to restrict you physically, but he would restrict with you magic and potions. As I mentioned before, he’d try to manipulate you to turn the tables around, it would be you seeking him rather than him seeking you which would put him on the rope scale. Since he has a possibility of using magic to keep you obedient (rather than make you because he still wants you to make that choice) he would be placed on the chain, you can win back freedom (basically he has no use for the potions at this point) as long as you continue to prove your devotion to him! Okay, this time FOR SURE I’m done! 

Rook Hunt

This man scares me, he’s horrifying. In canon, he’s probably just a bit off-putting and he’ll be nice to you but as a yandere? That being said, Rook is manipulative, possessive, obsessive, and sadistic. Let’s get into it!

The biggest thing with Rook is that we need to see his reference material, he’s a hunter. That predator and prey dynamic is quite strong as we’ve seen in the beanfest event, he likes the thrill. Normally I’d say to run but he enjoys the thrill of that so start walking slowly. Let’s talk about his S/O, I try not to put too many traits because I truly like to believe that they prefer the personality of their S/O as opposed to anything specific but he’d be interested in his S/O. Their way of thinking and the way they carry themselves. We know he loves beauty and has no problem voicing his admiration, but when it comes to his S/O, his comments increase a lot. He loves the way you dress, the way you carry yourself, the way you write your name, and the way you speak, if you have any anxious ticks they don’t go unnoticed and he loves them as well. He’s very observant of any and all things you do, it’s scary. He’s like Kalim who sees the beauty and the good things, he just communicates them differently. To be honest, right now, Rook would make you love things about yourself that you hate or never knew about. As a yandere, that doesn’t change but his love increases by a lot. Tying this in with his obsessive trait, he knows everything. When you leave class with Grim, his eyes are on you. When you take a test and scratch your head, look confused (stuff you do basically), etc, he’s watching. He takes in any and all information possible. Things that are routine to you, he analyzes and takes great interest. Like a hunter studies his prey, he studies you just as well. Maybe at first, it was just something he does, but then it started to become extreme. If you take walks around Ramshackle and you feel eyes on you, it might be him. He doesn’t do anything other than stalk but that doesn’t make it any better. His eyes are ALWAYS on you. Taking in EVERYTHING. He’s extremely obsessive if you couldn’t tell.

Manipulative and this is also where I want to include his ‘unique’ trait. He will NEVER trust you. I’m like jumping a couple of steps but this will all make sense, promise. His manipulation isn’t like the others where they isolate you and try to make it seem like you only have them. It also isn’t something based on authority where they say, “I’m this so you should trust me” or where they use their fame to get you to comply (AKA blackmail). No, Rook takes on a different route. He’s a hunter and he’s always setting up bait but his reasoning isn’t always to prove your loyalty and love, it’s because he finds it fun. Like the Leech twins, you’ll have to be constantly on edge with him. It’s all about observing you. If you read yandere fanfiction, I’m sure you’ve seen prompts that involve the yandere placing the darling (you) in a situation where they can escape, but it’s secretly a test. With Rook, you’ll NEVER know it’s a test. You could stay put for three hours and Rook comes back saying he was busy. You realize then, you could have gotten help but you didn’t. Sometimes, he’ll leave you for 15 minutes and the moment you turn around to run, he’s there. You’ll either have to try to escape at every opportunity or stay put at every opportunity. He could send you on an errand, running papers to a teacher. Out of the fear that he’s watching even though logically he wouldn’t be in the office, you don’t say anything. You realize too late that it was a perfect opportunity to flee from him. This ties in with his unique trait.

He will NEVER trust you. In fanfiction when the darling has been ‘loyal’ (basically playing into their hands waiting to get the upper hand and flee) for some time ranging from a couple of months to years and the yandere assumes that they’ve finally given in. Yeah no, that’s not happening with Rook. You could be together for 10+ years and with 8 children, but he’ll NEVER assume you’ve given in. He’ll play the role and display signs that make it seem that he has but rest assured he hasn’t. He can be the perfect husband, and doting father, and just be a textbook family. You think you’ve planned well, surely after all these years he would believe your charade but no, Rook still keeps an eye on you. Not to mention, he has an army of 8 kids. He probably taught them to recognize signs and to snitch on you. Imagine you’re planning on leaving him but taking the kids and you tell them the plan but all these fuckers turned on you. Yeah, trust is something that comes hard with Rook (if you ever gain it), but this also ties in with the rope-chain-saw scale. He’d be rope. He enjoys the thrill of the hunt and I don’t see him as someone who tires of it. He’ll have some restrictions but overall, he wants you to be as free as possible. You won’t have any extreme restrictions or anything holding you back other than your fear of him. Funny enough, this brings me to my second point, he’s sadistic.

He doesn’t mean to harm you physically, but mentally he loves it. Physically, maybe but it’s not that common. He’ll find your scared expression beautiful and exciting, it shows how much you’re afraid of him. Of course, he wants your love and honestly, in a non-yandere setting, he’d be the perfect boyfriend. As a yandere, he THRIVES off the idea that he’s the biggest threat in your eyes. It’s the thrill of the hunt that makes that catch so much sweeter. Despite all the opportunities of escape (test or not), you don’t take them because of that fear. Any and all bait (escape or not because it’s mostly used to track your reactions) is meant to cause mental anguish. If you do bite he may inflict some physical pain but it’s not something that happens often. In the commissioned fic I wrote, you ran and Rook used an arrow to stop you. Yeah, he’ll do that again. He’ll treat you very well after (medical sense) but he’s not above harming you temporarily. I didn’t put him on the scale as saw, because he doesn’t want to take away your ability to run. Back to the original point, the mental anguish he causes is so much worse. It’s the way he will pamper you, loves you, gives you gifts, and speaks sweet words that make you melt away in a blissful state. You seem to forget that his eyes are closed on to you, he sets up traps that you may or may not recognize until after he appears to give you praise or punishment based on the result. You can’t read him and you can’t predict his intention so you live in fear. That’s what sadistic Rook loves, he’s the cause of your pain and fear.

Wrapping these headcanons, Rook gets an 11/10 on the yandere scale. I wanted to say 10/10 because he’s a danger but because he’ll never trust you he gets an 11/10. Escape really isn’t an option (unless you want to end it all but even then your snitch children might step in). He’s possessive like most, if not ALL yanderes. You’re his, trust me others will regret messing with you. I don’t think Rook would isolate you so he’s not possessive in that sense (like some of the yanderes) but he still wants you to be his and his alone. I don’t think he’d brand you (this brings up a tiny point how despite what you think he sees you as an equal and not as a pet because the mental anguish he causes is what leads you to make that dynamic) but if pushed to the point, he may and find beauty in something of his on your skin. He’s dangerous because he causes an INSANE amount of mental anguish (cater levels) but he can also be physical if need be. He’s always watching and his love is like an anchor, constantly weighing you down and making it hard to breathe. All eyes on you as he sees everything and anything, not to mention his unique magic? Yeah no, escape has and will never be an option. Honestly, I feel like maybe (since this isn’t canon and a yandere headcanon) the whole Pomefiore dorm might be in on it. I see Rook trusting Epel and Vil with you or knowing about you. They might even be the unsuspecting bait that Rook plants. If you thought one pair of highly trained hunting eyes was bad enough, imagine a dorm full of eyes that are trained to see people in the spotlight.

Epel Felmier

So starting right off the bat I’m gonna say what his unique trait is. It’s his appearance. Book 5 was about Vil trying to get Epel to see that his cute face was something he could use to his advantage rather than a disadvantage. So, he’s going to take what Vil taught him and put it to good use. Overall characteristics would include manipulative and overprotective, with a hint of possessiveness.

Finding a way to tie in his unique trait with these characteristics is simple but let’s get into it! Manipulating you and others is quite easy for Epel. Though he doesn’t like being seen as some dainty and petite individually, he’s more than content using it to get you and others to listen to him. You would probably lower your guard a lot more with Epel because it’s Epel. At first glance, I think most of us could push him away if things ever got physical. Which is why Epel doesn’t seem like a danger at first. Epel's gentle and soft-spoken nature is something so refreshing to be around with (especially after hanging out with Ace and Deuce) and is usually quite calming. Epel is sweet and caring, always minding his manners which are suited for someone in Pomefiore. He doesn’t need to do any extra work because you feel comfortable around him talking about your personal life. When something occurs, you may ask Epel for his advice or maybe just to listen (which he’s always down for). It’s different from the others because sometimes Ace happens to say things so bluntly and Deuce, while having good intentions, says things that just don’t work. Epel is a soft-spoken person who offers advice in a tone that doesn’t mean to criticize or look down upon. Finding ways to effectively get his point across without the need of hurting your feelings. You trust Epel so much and while he appreciates this, he knows it stems from his appearance.

I can see him slightly being annoyed by this at first until he starts to slip up. Imagine your surprise when Epel is single-handly arguing and fighting the students who made fun of you. Imagine your surprise when the sweet boy starts to act out, saying things you didn’t expect to leave his mouth and just starts acting different. It’s total whiplash. Once he’s gotten your trust and you start to reconsider, his appearance comes to the rescue when you start accusing Epel of things he’s done. Honestly, I can see Vil and Rook stepping in if things get serious but most of the time his good looks do the talking. What do you mean Epel scared you? He grabbed your wrist and left a nasty bruise? That doesn’t sound like the Epel I know. Did he say all those mean things to you? Are you sure? Epel doesn’t speak like that! Suddenly, he’s making everyone turn against you for speaking out against him. How scary is Epel?

I want to include overprotectiveness and possessiveness together because they go hand in hand. Epel loves you and he’d fight for your honor! It’s quite cute, brave, and courageous to see someone of a small stature standing up against the bad guys. He was raised on the principle of treating everyone with respect and you’re no different! His possessiveness ties in when others try to steal you away from him. No doubt looking down on him because of his size and he needs to show them who’s boss! Well, he sounds tame, so what’s the big issue? Ladies and gentleman, it’s a power dynamic scale we have going on. See Epel is so used to being seen as someone small and petite and while he appears that way to his darling, he has the ability to remind them who is in charge. Though I don’t see Epel as being someone to get physical with you off the bat, there are times when he sees it as his last resort (and by last I mean he tried one other option and gave up). Considering he has a short temper, it’s more often than not. He can be like Ace who says some mean things and basically degrades you but no point in telling anyone because it’s not like anyone would believe sweet Epel would say that. He can pose a threat and when all else fails, start resulting to hitting you to keep you tied to him but again no use saying anything because who would believe you? Granted, there is only so much he can hide behind leading me to a small point, I think Vil and Rook would encourage his behavior.

Vil would dislike the way he’s so rough with you but he did gain your trust with that pretty face of his. Rook would find it amusing. Honestly, he’d feel the same when he thinks you shouldn’t be too rough with your darling, but Epel is a stubborn one who doesn’t accept defeat. In the rope-chain-saw scale, he’d be split between rope and chain. Honestly, like Rook, you start to grow a fear of Epel. While most of the time he’s his usual self (the one you came to love), saying the wrong thing could set him off and spell disaster for you. It’s like walking on eggshells for your safety. So at some point, Epel has no need for too many restrictions but Vil encourages him not to slip up. Not to get too cocky and assume he’ll always be at the top because an unssuspecting person came come and steal you away. It’s as if they’re trying to make him worse than he already is, resulting in the border between chain and rope. Depending on what happens and how he feels, he made add too many restrictions and he’s always inconsistent with them, but most of the time he’s a rope. Doesn’t feel the need to keep you caged and away when you already know the consequences that await you.

Epel overall isn’t too dangerous, maybe a 6/10? His behaviors can start to get predictable but do be careful with that face. He may even stage a situation where you’re the one hurting precious Epel and onlookers judge you. How could you come to hurt someone like Epel? Surely he didn’t pose too much of a threat. Though, while he physically is strong and has a quite short temper, his behaviors can become routine and easy to follow. He’s really only a danger more than Deuce because he would have the help of Vil and Rook. I’m sure that over time you could turn the tables on him and either fight back or paint him to be the villain he is. He’s truly like the poisoned apple, beautiful and tempting on the outside but rotten to the core.

[etherealyoungk]

chef!mingyu part three

// tw: blood // cw: suggestive, kissing, mingyu being an annoying ass but <3 // here's chef!mingyu part one and two, part four // maria literally jail for you for sending these pics to me because they're literally perfect for this part hshs but JAIL

doesn't it suck to have the person you hate on your mind constantly. expect it wasn't exactly hate with mingyu. it was more how you just refused to believe you were attracted to him that made you think about him even more. not to mention you were rivals in business, so you didn't want to do anything stupid.

it's been a few weeks and you as much it pained you to admit, you did wish mingyu stopped by but he hadn't in the last few weeks. and just as you were locking up and about to leave, you see a familiar figure strolling inside your restaurant - mingyu.

"what do you want?", you ask coldly, tired from the long day. "now is that how you greet a friend?", he asks, crossing arms over his chest. you noticed how the shirt he was wearing just hugged his body and arms, showing off his biceps. and he was wearing glasses too. fuck he looked so hot tonight. you cleared your throat before speaking.

"im tired okay, what's up?", you repeat. "just came for dinner", he prompts and you're lost. "sorry what? we're closed", you say. "did someone forget they owe me lunch and dinner? how ungrateful", he says, shaking his head with a scoff. right, you promised him you'd treat him for letting you crash in his place.

"right...what do you want?", you ask. "i want you to cook me something that you love to eat", he asks. "i'll buy you something how's that?", you bargain. "no can do baby. or do you want the whole world to know that you're dying to sleep with me", he asks with a raised brow making you narrow your eyes at him. "you're such an ass", you mumble, purposely nudging your elbow into him as you walk ahead.

you lock up and mingyu would drive you back to your place where you decide to cook your favorite pasta for him. it was simple, easy to make, and super yummy too. mingyu would hang around in the kitchen as you started cooking, and maybe give you some unsolicited decor advice, making you roll your eyes. and you notice how mingyu's hands would just automatically start helping you gather ingredients or things - i guess that what happens when you cook for a living. you'd have to smack his hands off, telling him you'd manage making him pout.

he'll lean back on the other end of the counter as you stand chopping some vegetables and doing some prep for the pasta. "so did your ex pay you a visit again?", mingyu asks, looking at you keenly. "that idiot did come in the morning again, and was asking where you were", you say. "what did you say?", "nothing, just that you had work", you add. "but i don't think he'll come again, hopefully", you add.

"was he good in bed?", mingyu asks, likes it's the most normal question in the world, catching you completely off guard. "excuse me? what kind of question is that?", you say, looking at him. "what, can't i know about your loser ex? i'm guessing he was pretty shit seeing as you've been dying to sleep with me", he adds with a smug smirk. as he pushes his glasses up. "what- firstly i am not dying to sleep with you and secondly i don't see why that actually matters to you", you say, getting annoyed. mingyu did an excellent job getting on your nerves.

"yeah so he was shit in bed", mingyu concludes when you avoid the question. "fuck you mingyu", you say, giving his a side eye. "oh, so you want me to? i'll gladly do it, just ask", he says nonchalantly. "like you're that good in bed either", you mumble to yourself but obviously mingyu heard you.

"is that a challenge baby? do you want me to show you", he asks with a raised brow. "whatever oh my god, just let me cook", you snap back at him, getting your focus back onto prepping for the pasta.

after a few seconds of silence, mingyu speaks up again. "baby if you need help, i'll be more than happy to. it feels awkward just standing here doing nothing", he asks again. "firstly, my name is -", you start, looking up to glance at mingyu. and maybe it was because you looked away for a second or because you were tired, your hand slipped and the knife sliced your finger. "OW", you yell, dropping the knife on the counter as you clutch your finger to your chest.

mingyu would be by your side in an instant. "what happened?", he asks and he gets his answer from the drops of blood on the countertop. "shit", he mutters. he can tell by the way your finger is bleeding that it's deep and bad cut. "where's your first aid kit", he asks urgently. "top shelf on the right", you mumble. he'll clear the countertop, pushing all the ingredients and chopping board to the side to make some space for you. you feel his hands on your waist as he gently hoists you up so you're now sitting on the countertop.

"here, let me see hm", he asks softly. you open your hands and hear him take in a sharp breath. it was pretty bad. you had cut not one, but two fingers and they were pretty deep slices, ouch. he'll wipe your finger with a wet cloth first. then he'll dab the disinfectant on, and you close your eyes because it burned like shit. "oww it hurts", you whine. "let me do it, i can manage mingyu", you huff but he won't let you. "don't - just let me help you".

he'll clean your other cuts and it just burns so bad you end up leaning your forehead on mingyu's shoulder, as he's standing in front of you. he'll gently bandage your fingers and make sure you were all okay. "done, you okay baby?", he asks as you're still leaning your head against him. "hm", you manage to say. you lift your head up but you're still so close to mingyu, you gulp as you look at him. "sorry, i guess i was just tired", you tell softly. "you should have told me, we could have done this another time", he scolds. "i owed you though", you mumble, looking down. and i wanted to spend time with you.

"i'll be okay, it's no big deal", you add and you're hyper-aware of mingyu's hands resting on your thighs as he stares at you. "you're really stubborn you know", he adds making you scoff. "stubborn? me?? have you seen yourself, you're so fucking cocky about everything", you counter. he won't say anything but he did love seeing you all feisty, he thought it was hot. "what can i say, i like being the best in everything i do", he counters, giving you a little smirk.

and you can't take it anymore. you couldn't take his stupid smile and how stupidly attracted you were to him. you couldn't take the tension anymore, so you just grabbed mingyu by the collar of his shirt and pulled him forward, kissing him. he would be caught off guard for a second but he'll smirk into the kiss, kissing you back as he moves his lips against yours. his hand moves up to cup your cheek as your fist where you held the collar of his shirt tightens, feeling giddy with the kiss. you pull away.

"we shouldn't be doing this", you say breathlessly. "give me one good reason why we shouldn't", he responds as he captures your lips again, his other hand going to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him. "fuck...because we're rivals and i'm supposed to hate you", you mumble between kisses. "let's just screw that and start over", he says. his hand goes to remove the glasses but you stop him. "don't, i like how they look on you", you say, looking at him as you bite your lip. "oh really? how does it look on me?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but he just wanted to hear it from you. "makes you look so fucking hot", you mumble against his lips, kissing him. he starts to kiss your neck, making you gasp as your eyes flutter close. he leaves a trail of soft kisses on your collarbone. "m-mingyu", you whisper. "hm tell me what you want baby", he groans softly, kissing up to your jawline as you grip his arm. "you're so annoying", is all you can manage to mutter as he kisses you again, kissing you with such passion making you dizzy.

you don't know how you made it to your bed, as mingyu hovers over you, his shirt thrown somewhere to the side. but your mind is too fuzzy to care anymore. you look at him, his lips pink and plump from all the kissing and his pupils dilated. his cheeks flushed and his hair falling over his face as he looks down at you. "i'll fuck you so good that the only name you'll remember is mine", he taunts, whispering in your ear before kissing you again, his hands roaming your body as you sigh into the kiss.

and when you wake up in the morning, you're tangled in mingyu's arms. but only this time you remember exactly what happened the night before. you stare at mingyu's face as he sleeps soundly and you wonder what was going to happen now. what were the two of you?

do we want part four?

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[lxndmine]

welcome to my blog !!

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➵ my name is spade :3

➵ 17 !!!

➵ lifestyle landmine... and i will post abt it!

➵ love love loves dark girly fashion...

➵ multifandom :3

➵ will vent on here but ill try to tw anything!!

➵ "get better soon" "you need help" *gives unsolicited advice* = blockeddd !!

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im super tired of other social platforms so i made a tumblr blog to post abt everything!! some of my posts willlll come off as romanticizing mental illness bc its one of the ways i cope :3 not in recovery either btw i just want a place to be "me" w/o bothering my few irl

also huge nso and pjsk fan :3 i probably will talk abt my silly fandom things sometimes too!!

i give info on jirai-related stuff sometimee! i do not bite