#why does walking a lot harm me so

[tamagotchikgs]

i hav been so nauseous since yesterday this is my punishment for walking

[mysicklove]

Toddlers are known to look at their caregivers to see how they should react when they trip and fall. Even if the stumble of their wobbly legs doesn’t hurt them, in many cases, they will still cry if their guardians fuss over them. Although, if the adult doesn’t give them a time of day usually the little beasts get up and go back to playing with their friends.

This phenomenon is pretty common for the toddler you raise. The small child seemed to master how to react during certain situations depending on who is watching him, you or his wicked older brother.

The three of you go to the park where Yuuji runs around the playground, letting out giggles and squeals when Nobara and Megumi play tag with him. You somehow drift off on Sukunas shoulder on a nearby bench, closing your eyes and slumping against your boyfriend, content with the fact that he has his eye on the reckless child.

As to be aspected, Yuuji, after being warned very harshly by his “doting” brother to go slow when going down the steps of the playground, ignores the caution and sprints down the stairs only to miss a step and fall straight to the bark. It wasn’t a hard fall — his legs collapsed beneath him, and he landed on his knees with a plop. No harm, no injuries, mostly just shock of him falling a couple feet into the bark.

The first thing he does is look toward you, unconsciously questioning if he is about to cry out from the pain so that you can pick him up and coddle him. But he can’t catch your sleeping gaze and instead finds himself face-to-face with Sukuna.

His brother only raises an eyebrow at him, shaking his head as if to say “i dare you to cry right now”. The two of them make eye contact for longer than necessary, silent communication, and Yuuji sniffles, gulps, and slowly gets up before going back to playing.

The elder Itadori puts his hand in front of your eyes, blocking out the sun from disturbing your sleep and continues to watch his younger brother walk much more carefully up and down the playground. It was good to not coddle the boy; Sukuna didn’t want Yuuji to grow up spoiled; he was to be a man, strong just like him.

But of course, Sukuna happened to be raising him with you, a person with the biggest soft spot for the child. And so when you wake up from your nap, and Sukuna calls the boy over to leave, you notice the tiny piece of bark sticking out of the boy's leg. It was surface level — Yuuji didn’t even notice it, but still, the image looked much more gruesome than it was really.

You gasp and begin to fuss over his “injured” leg, asking the boy if he tripped and fell if he was hurt at all if he was okay. And suddenly, to Yuuji, it seemed that maybe that fall did hurt a little too bad. Maybe he wasn't okay like he thought.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes.

“Don’t you give me that shit. You’re fine. You tripped like five minutes ago, and I know it didn’t hurt.”

Yuuji shakes his head, ignoring his brother and rubbing his eyes while he looks up at you. “O-Owie…” he whines, rubbing at his knee.

“Poor thing, did you hurt yourself? I’m sorry baby, I wasn’t watching.” He reaches his hands up to you, and you scoop him up while he begins to cry into your neck.

It was a fake cry, obviously enough. It makes the elder Itadoris mouth hang open. “You little liar!”

“Don’t be mean, Sukuna.” You say, teasing him because you realized quickly enough that the boys “cries” didn’t produce any liquid from his eyes. You didn’t mind spoiling the boy either way.

Sukuna, realizing you also understood, lets out a dramatic groan, shaking his head before exclaiming, “Why am I surrounded by weaklings?!”

You just laugh at him, thinking about to a few years earlier during highschool. Sukuna was the one who would dramatize his pain whenever he got in a fight. You would listen to his whines (after he profusely exclaimed that he won by a longshot) over a busted lip and a black eye while you would fuss over him, just as you are doing to Yuuji.

He got into a lot of fights during highschool because Sukuna could never get enough of you fretting over him. He liked when you played nurse and coddled him, way too similar to the way you cooed at Yuuji.

The two of them, although Sukuna would never admit it, are way too similar. Both are strong and independent boys who happen to turn into whiny, attention-seeking puppies when you are around.

[meowshark12]

i know it won't work...(rc)

series summary: you're best friends with topper, kelce, and rafe. it has never bothered you to see them with other girls, knowing that they usually only have flings, but, when rafe gets what appears to be a girlfriend, how does this change things?

(not rly canon)rafe x kook!reader, original characters

warnings: none idk, first time writing beware

a/n: the slowest of all slow burns rn. feedback appreciated!! but pls be constructive abt it I can't handle hate

1 2 3

chapter 1: just friends!

It was approaching the end of May, something you were thankful for. Without any more classes to think about, you could focus on the important things in life; the beach, getting drunk, and hanging out with your friends.

Your friend group was one constant in your life that you felt would be impossible to live without. No matter the situation, you knew you could count on them.

Your boy friends, Topper, Kelce, and Rafe, you had basically grown up with. Topper's father is a business partner of your father, and both of your mothers got along so well that, when they became pregnant at almost the same time, they were ecstatic.

Topper made his own friends, and so did you. So what could be the harm in merging your groups?

Your girls, Stella and Macey, have been your closest friends since you all met in the same class at the beginning of freshman year. The three of you were inseparable, defying the odds of "trios never work".

The group of the six of you got on like a wildfire, which was why you were so excited to spend the whole summer with them.

You had entered your final class of the day, a class that you had with Rafe and Kelce. Assigned seating was your worst nightmare, you being seated in the back and them together in the front. None of your girls were there, and your boys were too far out of reach. So, you decided to focus on what you could, which was probably why you were doing comparatively better in this class than all of your others.

The class droned on for a while, Kelce and Rafe both messing around in the front while occasionally stealing glances at you. Rafe lets his look linger for a split second too long. You had barely noticed, but you heard whispers of the girls in front of you.

"I really don't understand how they're friends" one of them whispered.

"He's definitely looking at you, Amber, not her." her friend replies.

From there, you tuned it out. You were used to the jealousy that came with being close with them, so you try to not let it bother you anymore. But, maybe he wasn't looking at you. Maybe he and Kelce were messing around to get the attention of the girls in front of you. You tune back into the lecture, only letting your gaze drift to Rafe and Kelce a few more times.

As your final class of the day ended, you checked your texts from the "big 3" groupchat with just you, Stella, and Macey.

...

stella may💫

im bored

mace🦋

girl pay attention. how do you expect to learn

anything if ur always on that damn phone

stella may💫

stfu. what r we doing later? need to fantasize ab

something to get me thru the day

mace🦋

idk. thought top was throwing? ask yn,

he usually tells her first🙄

stella may💫

don't sound so jelly just bc u want topper bad.

yn what's the plan?

...

You looked down at your phone, smiling briefly at your friends' text messages. Truthfully, you didn't know if Topper was throwing, but you hoped he was. Parties are always better when your friends were the first there and last to leave. You reply to the girls, a quick "idk, come to mine after school?", before turning off your phone and packing your things as the class was dismissed.

At the front of the class, you see Rafe and Kelce waiting for you. Rafe is staring at his phone, while Kelce taps his foot, faking impatience with you.

"What took you so long?" Kelce asks, eyeing you quizzically. The three of you begin to walk outside, slowly making your way to the parking lot to meet your friends.

"Just the girls blowing up my phone," you laughed. "They're asking if Top is throwing tonight. They always expect me to have the answer," you say with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. Kelce laughs. There is a silence that follows. Kelce accepts your answer, and Rafe is still glued to his phone.

"What are you staring at dude?" Kelce questions, shoving Rafe lightly.

Rafe replies, "Oh- just a message from my dad. No big deal," eyes shifting so slightly that you almost missed it. He avoids your gaze and changes the subject easily. "So, Topper's throwing then?"

You knew Rafe better than to let that slide, and decided you would talk to him about it another day, perhaps after he had cooled off a little. Though you and Topper were originally the best of friends, you and Rafe have become closer over the few years that you have known each other.

Rafe always found it easy to talk to you. You were like a vault, so anybody's secret would be safe with you. You believed that people's stories were their own to tell, and, if someone told you something, you would never even think about sharing it for them. Because of this, and because of your willingness to trust Rafe, he began to slowly open up to you.

The first instance of Rafe's openness was years ago after a party at Tannyhill, before the two of you had really even become friends. You were more like acquaintances who knew each other through Topper. Most everyone had gone home, a few stragglers stumbling out and your friends already upstairs, but you had started straightening things out downstairs in the kitchen. This party was particularly rowdy, and it always pained you a little bit to let other people clean up a mess that they didn't make. Rafe walks into the kitchen and stops when he sees you.

"What are you doing?" He asks, and you turn, still squatted down trying to sweep up shards of broken glass.

"Just trying to clean up a little, it makes me a little anxious just going to bed and leaving all of this," you reply honestly, standing up and tossing the broken glass into a bucket that you had found outside. You looked into his eyes. The blue of them was much darker in this lighting.

"Oh," he says, shocked, "you don't have to do that. I can take care of it." He breaks eye contact with you, but you speak again.

"It's really not a big deal, just trying to make it a little easier in the morning." There's a silence that follows. You clear your throat. "I just know that I like when other people do this for me, so I figured I would return the favor... as best as I can, I guess. These people really did a number on your house." You laugh lightly.

He scoffs, amused. "You could say that. This is gonna be the last party I throw here for a while." Rafe says, leaning against the countertop behind him. He notices the look that you give him, which propels him to explain himself further. "Ward hates when I party, and after the last one he gave me this huge lecture. I dont know, I think he thinks it's gonna send me down the wrong path." You're silent, just barely nodding along as he speaks. He continues, "I guess he's kinda right, I mean I'm not perfect, but it's annoying that he sees me as this unhinged freak when Sarah does the same things and he sees her as an angel." He finishes. You nod, sympathetically while Rafe begins to wonder why he even told you that to begin with.

He's not the most open person, after his mom died and his father remarried, he's found it hard to open up to anyone. His mother was his rock when he was younger, and he resents his father for just giving up on her like and finding someone new. But, something in your warm demeanor reaches out to him, and he feels like he would tell you anything if you asked.

"I get it," you say, before Rafe can walk away and pretend this conversation didn't happen, "My parents have always been like that with my sister too. Sometimes I feel like I don't really even exist to them, but I know that they just want what's best for us. She just needs more attention, I guess," you reply, shrugging a little. Rafe gives you a small smile, acknowledging what you said. You knew that Rafe had really opened up to you, and you felt like you owed him a little piece of yourself in that way too.

The silence that follows is comfortable, and you both begin straightening things around the house. Rafe is sweeping everything into a pile in the kitchen as you enter from the living room carrying a bag of garbage. It's only been around 15 minutes, but you speak again.

You had been thinking about what he said as you picked things up. "I hope you know that you're not actually an unhinged freak, Rafe," you begin, setting the bag down and turning to face him, hoping to add a bit of humor to make the next thing you are about to say a little less serious than it is. Rafe chuckles, but stops what he's doing to look at you, clearly interested in what you were gonna say next. You continue timidly, "at least, I know that's not how I see you"

"How do you see me, then?" He replies with a smirk, looking you up and down. You knew he was trying to give you a chance out of what you had started, but you don't relent.

"Thats not what I meant," you say with a roll of your eyes, you lean on the counter facing the table, "I just meant that I don't think you give yourself enough credit." You wait a beat, seeing how Rafe is reacting to what you're saying. You wouldn't want to continue if he seemed any sort of uncomfortable, but Rafe seemed to be hanging onto your every word, now seated on the kitchen table. You continue, "I mean, putting a drunk Topper to bed is a skill that few people have been proven to possess," at this, he lets out a laugh, leaning back onto his hands while waiting to see what else you have to say. "And it's almost impossible to remember Stella's or Macey's coffee order, but you do it flawlessly any time they ask."

He playfully rolls his eyes. "It's not that hard..." he responds before you continue.

"And I've seen the way you treat your youngest sister, even if she can annoy you sometimes." You pause, but he doesn't respond, looking down at his feet. "And I know you put on that tough guy act, but your actions toward some people about show that you care a lot more than you let on. So basically... I have a lot of respect for you." you finish, unsure what really possessed you to say all of that.

Rafe is silent, the only sound in the room is some light snoring that you know is coming from Topper down the hall. Was he really that transparent? You think that you may have said too much, but Rafe takes a deep breath before saying, "Do you really think all of that?" You nod, he lets out a surprised huff, and you accept that as your queue to turn in for the night. Maybe you both were too drunk to act sane, which could explain the nature of the conversation, but you meant everything you had said.

"Well, I think I'm gonna go to bed, but thanks for staying up and cleaning with me. Goodnight, Rafe" you say with a yawn.

"Goodnight, YN" he responds, and you swear you see the faintest blush on his cheeks. He was still reeling from all of the nice things you had said to him.

After borderline forcing Topper to host a party tonight, you and your girls split ways with the boys. You all piled into your car, blasting music on your way back to your house. You walk in, saying a quick "hi" to your parents and siblings before heading straight up the stairs into your room. You sit on your bed, while Stella and Macey find spots in an armchair and at your vanity. The three of you sit in silence for a while before beginning to debrief the parts of the day that you had spent without each other. The debrief was nothing to really write home about, until you spoke up after a few seconds of silence.

"You know that Amber girl who sits in front of me in 4th period?" you ask, trying to be nonchalant about your question, though it was weighing on your mind all day.

"I think so," replies Macey, looking at herself in your vanity mirror. Stella just nods along.

"Well, Kelce and Rafe were messing around during class and would look in my direction every once in a while for some attention, and the one time she was like 'ugh I don't even know how they're friends' or something like that," you explain, and you see the girls' faces change, Macey's jaw hanging open. "Usually shit like that doesn't bother me but there was something about it that I lowkey can't stop thinking about..."

A look of recognition crosses Stella's face. "Wait... isn't that the girl who is literally obsessed with Rafe?" she questions, "I swear I remember him talking about her to Top and Kelce the one day."

"That would make sense," Macey adds, while you just look confused.

"I mean yeah I guess," you reason, "but I don't know... it just rubbed me the wrong way I think." You try to articulate your thoughts the right way, but it makes you seem more possessive of your boy friends than you intended.

Of course, they can have other friends that are girls. You would just prefer that you and your girls are their first priority. You continue as you remember another detail. "oh my gosh and then her friend was like 'he's definitely just looking at you Amber' which made me unsure if they were actually looking at her or me. UGH I don't even know what to think. Not that they can't look at her obviously. I just thought they were looking at me, and, I don't know, I feel stupid even saying this."

"I don't know, I wouldn't worry about it too much. You know you're their number one girl anyway," Macey says, while Stella rolls her eyes at her friends bluntness. You blush lightly, not considering it like that. You and Stella exchange a glance before you speak again.

"You know they love you guys just as much as me." You explain, not trying to start a confrontation before what is supposed to be a great night. The two girls just shrug.

"Yeah we know, but I think she's just saying that you don't need to worry about them replacing you with that Amber girl. You're their best friend!" Stella says, trying to reason with you. You understand what they're saying, and you nod along.

You decide to change the subject. "Ok well do you guys want to get food before we leave?"

"Hell yes. Pizza has been calling my name all week." Macey says.

"Yeah I'm down!" Stella exclaims.

You call and order pizza, glad that you were able to change the subject. Just after that, Topper calls you asking for drink requests. You tell him to get you "the usual" and that you'll Venmo him later. He tells you that he will text the group chat of the six of you when they're back and you can come over.

The three of you eat the pizza in what feels like record time, still having probably around an hour before needing to walk over to Toppers house. It was lucky that you lived so close to him- he was always nearby if you needed him, or if you needed to walk back to your house after getting shitfaced.

After Topper's call, the three of you begin getting ready. You put on a black tank top and loose jean shorts, accessorizing with your favorite jewelry.

"Shots?" You ask, raising your eyebrows. The other girls immediately agree, and you pull out a bottle and three shot glasses. You take the shots, wincing. You look between your friends, wondering how you got so lucky, when you get a text from Topper telling you to head over.

(to be continued hopefully. lmk if you like!)

[queer-reader-07]

i think one of my spiciest takes is that i think cis people should be cis on purpose and not because it’s the “default”

ok hear me out before you go into the notes, i have reasons.

the main idea is that i think EVERYONE should explore and interrogate their gender identity and what their gender truly means to them. because 1) i don’t think any harm will ever come from wanting to understand yourself and your existence on a deeper level and 2) if everyone, including cis people, explored their gender it would be more generally accepted. thus, trans people or people questioning their transness wouldn’t be as othered when they start questioning and exploring their gender.

because here’s the deal. every trans person i know can tell you what their gender means. they can tell you what it means to be a man or a woman or neither or both or some other nebulous concept. they can describe it to you and explain it to you. they can tell you what their manhood or womanhood or neitherhood means to them, what it represents, how they knew that’s who they were.

every trans person i know (including myself) can articulate what their gender is in more words than “well i’m *insert gender* because i’m *insert gender*” (yes i know i’m always saying i can’t be bothered with gender but i do actually have a lot of feelings and words on my own)

i’ve talked to a lot of cis people about gender and they just simply can’t explain to me what womanhood or manhood is to them. so often it’s “well i’m a man cuz i’m a man. i look like a man i act like a man etc etc.” but what does a man look like? what does a man act like? and it’s usually people who consider themselves trans allies saying these things!

people should explore their gender. they should understand it more deeply. i don’t say “explore your gender” as a way to try and force anyone into a realization of transness, i say it because i want people to understand their gender. whether that be cis or trans or whatever.

to understand yourself more deeply is to understand your place in the world more accurately. learning more about who you are, and why you are, and how you are never hurts in the long run.

so yeah. be cis on purpose, be cis because you know deeply that you are cis, because you understand what that means to you.

and be trans on purpose. use the labels you like deliberately. dress in the way that brings you euphoria and mitigates dysphoria because you deserve that.

simply be on purpose. walk through life with deliberate steps, with solidified intent. because without doing so, how can we find our purpose on this earth and in this life?

[luveline]

Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?

Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine

SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW

thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k

Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl. 

You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes. 

Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone. 

He's clearly troubled by something. 

"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.

"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion." 

"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says. 

He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.

He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it. 

Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him. 

You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh. 

"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?" 

Miguel doesn't glance your way. 

Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says. 

You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly. 

"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small." 

"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative. 

Miguel groans loud and unapologetically. 

You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest. 

He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen. 

"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it." 

Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes. 

"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers. 

"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–" 

"In what scenario–" 

"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder. 

"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop. 

You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today? 

"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says. 

You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say. 

"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once." 

"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense." 

Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.

"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now." 

You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier. 

"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you. 

You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased. 

"You did that on purpose," Miguel says. 

"I did what on purpose?" 

"Coming in here." 

"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible. 

Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours. 

"Don't even think about it," he says. 

"About what, handsome?" 

"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win. 

"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated." 

He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it. 

"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says. 

"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much. 

"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.

You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do." 

He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something." 

"Miguel, I came to see you." 

"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority." 

"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you. 

"Go away. Come and see me later," he says. 

You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory. 

Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave. 

Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader / bonus: platonic!Lemon x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine and Lemon care for the kidnapped girl they were paid a lot of money to save.

Genre: Fluff, hurt & comfort

Warnings: kidnapping, abuse, banter, cigarette burns, trauma, swearing

next part

~ @kpopgirlbtssvt here you go, lovely 🤍 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"Remind me again why we're here?" Lemon deadpans, his clothes drenched from the rain as he stands in the middle of the abandoned building, blood splatter evident on his shirt from the men he'd already killed outside. 

Tangerine shakes his head, his hair wet from the rain as he grunts and checks his gun. "Because we're gettin' paid 300 million quid for this job," he snaps and runs a hand in his hair to tame it down, "And for once it's an easy one. Kill those fuckin' bastards, find the girl, and return 'er to whoever is paying for 'er. Easy."

"Ya, easy as pie," Lemon rolls his eyes sarcastically, "She some kinda princess or what?" he asks but he doesn't really complain about the amount of money. 

"Blood hell, I don' know, but it doesn't matter, does it? Cover me will ya," his brother retorts and lifts his gun, kicking down the door and shooting whatever scumbag appears in the dirty apartment room.

Lemon covers him as he shouts curses. It's a bloody mess by the end and both of them are drenched in blood. 

"Shit," Lemon curses again as he walks by a broken mirror in the hall, "Tis bad luck, mate."

"Can ya shut your mouth for once, Lemon?" Tangerine snaps as walks by, unamused by the comment. He looks purposeful as he walks to the closed room he assumes you're held in. He opens the door slowly, afraid to scare you, and his breath abruptly leaves him. 

Lemon stands behind him, looking past him and his eyes widen. "Tan," he whispers as if his brother hasn't already seen you.

You look so fragile, so scared, and so alone. You're pressed against the wall near the broken bed frame, the dirty mattress caved in and blood-stained, and you're trembling harshly.

Your arms and legs are covered in bruises, bleeding cuts, and cigarette burns. Tangerine and Lemon's hearts mutually shatter. 

You let out a whimper once they walk closer and Lemon instantly grabs Tangerine's shoulder. "She's terrified," he whispers, holding his brother back so he doesn't rush towards you too quickly.

Tangerine's shoulders tense as you continue to stare at them, tears and mascara stains running down your cheek. "I know," he answers and asks Lemon, "What do we do?"

Lemon thinks for a moment. "Show 'er we aren't a threat to ´er," he says and crouches down, putting his gun on the floor as he raises his hands in surrender. Tangerine copies his brother and he even removes his gold knuckle brace, putting it in his suit pants pocket without hesitation. 

You don't move, too afraid to stand or attempt to run from them. Your body feels so weak and beaten down. Lemon and Tangerine crouch down near you and you just continue to stare at them.

You look terrified.  

"What's your name, sweetheart?" Lemon asks calmly. When he doesn't get an answer he sighs and puts his palm on his chest, "I'm Lemon, and this is my brother Tangerine."

Your eyes drift from Lemon to Tangerine but you still don't move or speak. Tangerine nods his head as if to say "hello" and he keeps his eyes focused on yours. 

You shift away from them, exposing more of the bruises that litter your arm. Tangerine grimaces. "Do those hurt?" he asks, his voice low and hoarse. 

You nod and his heart swells when you answer him. Tangerine looks at Lemon, who sighs and tilts his head towards you. "I promise we mean you no harm. Can ya come with us? Can ya walk?"

You blink, breathing harshly, but you nod again. Lemon stands and allows Tangerine to be the one to extend his hand to you. He does and you stare at his hand for a moment. You look up and Tangerine's chest tightens again.

You look so damn scared of him.

He shakes his hand, "Don' worry, I gotcha, luv," he says in a whisper and then he holds his breath when you eventually take his hand. 

He helps you up, resisting the instinct to steady you with his arm around your waist as you stumble a little. He has a feeling you wouldn't welcome his touch right now. Still, you clutch onto Tangerine's hand, moving closer to him and flinching when Lemon wraps a blanket around your shoulders. 

"There, there ya go," Tangerine's words of encouragement swirl around as you focus on breathing and walking in a straight line.

The Twins bring you to their car and help you into the backseat. You still have aven't spoken a word as you fumble with your hands and pick at your nails.

* * *

A few hours pass and Tangerine is really starting to become impatient. He's leaning against the hood of his car, trying for the seventh time to light the lighter he presses against his cigarette—but once more nothing but sparks come out. 

Lemon stands next to him, wearing an annoyed expression as his arms are crossed. "What time did those fuckers say they'd pick 'er up and pay us?"

Tangerine glances at his watch and then mumbles around his cigarette, "Three fuckin' hours ago, mate," he finishes and with an angry huff, chucks his lighter to the side.

"And why're we still here?" Lemon deadpans. Tangerine turns to look inside the car and his eyes land on you.

You're sleeping in the backseat. Lemon follows his gaze and rubs his temples, understanding a little better now. "What are we supposed to do with ´er now?" he asks his brother softly. 

"I don't know."

"Should we bring her to the coppers?"

"Absolutely not!" Tangerine glares at his brother, "I mean—doesn't this all feel a little fishy to ya? A promise of 300 million, with a 200 thousand advancement, all for nothing because the bastards don't even show up?" 

"It's bullocks is what—"

"No, you don't understand," Tangerine continues, his stare hardening, "What if they want us to abandon her? Or bring her to the police? What if that was their plan all along?"

Lemon raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, "Since when are ya into conspiracies, bruv, this doesn't sound like ya—"

"Are ya saying we just leave her?!" Tangerine snaps. 

Lemon instantly frowns, "That is not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying? We don't know who she is, why she was taken, and now we don't know where to bring 'er," Tangerine rambles, his eyes a little wild. Lemon pauses and examines him. He seems weirdly worried for this girl. 

"So, you want us to take 'er in," Lemon deadpans, reading his brother's body language. 

Tangerine's cheeks turn a little pink, "No—that isn't what—"

Lemon interrupts him and looks at you in the back of their car. "I think we should. I mean, look at 'er! She's harmless and she's hurt and we'd really would be fuckin' arseholes not to help 'er!"

Tangerine rubs his jaw, "Yeah, such fuckin' pricks."

Lemon nods in agreement "The biggest fuckin' arseholes." 

So that's what they do, they bring you to their house; a mostly hidden mansion on the outskirts of the city. You stay quiet and meek as they show you to your room.

Hours pass and you still haven't spoken a word to either of them and as much as it does annoys the hell out of him, Tangerine understands.

"Do ya want some tea, darlin'?" he asks from behind the door to their guest room. 

No answer. 

Tangerine squeezes his eyes shut and curses himself. He opens the door a little and peeks in. He needs to make sure you're okay. Sure, Lemon has been the one to clean up your wound and give you some clean clothes—but that wasn't because Tangerine didn't care. 

Instead, it was because he couldn't stomach seeing how badly you'd been hurt. It makes him want to puke (and he's usually good with things like that).

"Hey're ya alright?" he asks, seeing you sitting on the bed. Stupid, stupid question. Your eyes are bloodshot and you're clutching the covers over you, silent tears rolling down your cheeks. 

Fuck, Tangerine doesn't know how to deal with this. Should he get Lemon? Lemon could probably turn your tears into laughter. 

You look up and quickly wipe at your tears, staring at Tangerine as you nod an answer. His heart breaks and he clears his throat, weirdly timid as he rubs his nape. "Y'know, ya don't have to be okay. What happened to you was traumatizing and fucked up. It's okay to not be okay, luv."

You blink at him and then you nod again. Tangerine's shoulders relax. It's a start. 

"Do you wanna call anyone for ya?"

You shift and pick at your nails again. Tangerine wonders if you even have anyone to call and he sighs. Why can't he be better at conversations?

Suddenly, the door opens again, and this time Lemon walks inside with an all too familiar sticker book in his hand that makes Tangerine groan. Lemon sticks out his hand and shushes him. 

"I'm helpin' 'er talk," Lemon says and sits at the end of your bed. 

You look at him, obviously concerned but Tangerine sees you shift closer and peek at the sticker book. "Have'ya seen Thomas the Tank Engine?" 

Tangerine opens his mouth to protest. 

You nod.

"See, this is how I read people," Lemon starts and shows you the sticker book. He unsticks one of them and just as Tangerine walks closer and sits next to him, Lemon smacks his hand on his brother's forehead and leaves behind a sticker, "See, my brother here is a Gordan. He's the fastest, the most important, but he doesn't always listen to people," 

Tangerine looks downright offended. 

"He can, in other words, be an arrogant prick."

 You turn to look at Tangerine, your glossy eyes taking him in, and Tangeirne's stomach sinks so far he's afraid he'll drown. For some reason, he doesn't want you to think of him like that. A blush creeps on his cheeks. He pulls off the sticker immediately.

"Obviously, I'm Thomas," Lemon boasts and sticks the Thomas sticker on his own forehead, which ears a grunt from Tangerine, "Because main character energy, hello?" 

Both men swear they hear a small, almost non-existent, chuckle from your lips. 

Lemon unsticks another sticker, not wanting to make a fuss over one almost-chuckle. He turns to you and raises his arm. You look at the sticker, understanding what he wants to do, and hesitantly, you lean forward to give him permission. 

He gently sticks the sticker on your forehead. "And you, you're an Edward. You're kind, gentle, and smart. I can just tell."

For once, Tangerine agrees with Lemon's stupid Thomas the Tank Engine analysis. 

"Ignore Lemon, he still plays with toys as if he isn't a grown man," Tangerine interrupts, his tone playful as he sends Lemon a glare and then turns to send a small smile your way. He almost chokes on his saliva when he sees that you're also smiling as your fingers delicately probe the sticker on your skin. 

When Lemon nudges his side Tangerine wants to tell him to shut up but he's too immersed in your beauty. 

"I always thought I was more of Percy," you whisper and look up at them. Both men look completely star-struck and it takes Lemon less than a millisecond to make a joke (much to Tangerine's horror).

"Ah, so she does speak," he cracks a grin, which you return and unstick the sticker from your forehead. 

"Lemon," Tangerine hisses and looks at you, his concern obvious, "How're ya feeling, darlin'?"

Lemon rolls his eyes. "Smooth, bruv," he chuckles and then tilts his head and makes another joke, this time intending to make you laugh fully, "Ignore my brother, he has a permanent stick in his ass. He's fuckin' allergic to fun and laughs, apparently, the poor doctors couldn't find a cure." Tangerine's eyes widen so wide at this and he looks embarrassed. "Ya don't have to answer him right away, sweetheart. Breathe."

You look between the brothers as they argue. 

"I am not allergic to fun!" Tangerine hisses. 

"So you admit ya do have a stick up your ass?" Lemon chuckles and it takes all of Tangerine's restraint not to smack him. 

"I'm gonna kill ya," he whispers harshly and Lemon pretends to gasp but his expression remains blank.

"How gentlemanly, threatening me in front of a lady."

"You prick—"

Your laughter cuts the tension and both of them shut their mouths. They look at you again and when they see that your shoulders look less tense and you're laughing now, your breathing calm and your tears dried, their bickering ceases. 

Lemon looks at his brother and when he sees the look in Tangerine's eyes, he knows. He's done for, Lemon thinks with a smirk. 

Tangerine watches the way you move as you laugh and as the sound dies down all he wants is to hear it again.

However, the sound of your voice will have to do for the moment because you look at them timidly and say, "My name is Y/n." You sound almost embarrassed by your own name. 

Tangerine's heart swells and he swears Lemon might have to pry him away from you at some point because he's never voluntarily leaving your side again.

He grins wide and he's sure he looks like a smitten fool, which to Tangerine's dismay is confirmed when Lemon opens his mouth to make another joke.

[verinarin]

How Ratio handles his reckless partner during a mission

I wrote this as a character study to better understand and illustrate how he treats people he respects and trusts (*´꒳`*)

So fluffiest fluff ever; in Ratio’s standards ofc

Please tell me if you guys want a part 2 of this ٩( ᐛ )و

Part Two ψ(｀∇´)ψ - Part Three (о´∀`о)

Support me on Ko-fi ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

“I often wonder how does the IPC’s HR department handles the recruitment process,” he sighs as he walks towards your body slumped to the floor as a result of your trademarked clumsiness

He stood there beside you waiting for you to sprung back to life like you usually do “How rude, for your information I aced my test,” you huff as you dust off your hands

“Is that so ?,” he replies candidly, he continues to leave you behind without much thought, he knows you possess some qualities that’s befitting for a investor but still you’re too clumsy and reckless at times

Hence why the higher ups assign him as your supervisor or so to speak, he acknowledges your lack of experience as well as your potential that’s why he agreed to be your supervisor

But he didn’t sign up to be your babysitter….

“Wait up would ya?,” you whine as you quickly jog to be by his side

He tilted his head to the side, studying you from afar to assess any damages on your body from the fall earlier “Time awaits for no one,”

“Please do think before anything else, stop making a fool out yourself while representing the IPC,” he continues his statement as he paced himself to be slightly slower for you to catch up

You huff feeling a little bit dejected by his statement but it’s the truth and from this past year of working beside him, you knew he always have your best interest at heart, well even though most of the times he verbally bullies you

“Yes yes of course Mr. Ratio,” you smile as you walk beside him, you notice that he slowed down his pace earlier, it made you smile to know that behind that rude demeanour he does care a lot

He steal a glance at your expression before resuming to look at the road ahead, he can’t help but to feel comfort in knowing that you didn’t seem to take his words to heart

He always finds it hard to express his truth towards others because to be frank the truth hurts, yet the pain itself is a important element to achieve improvement, pain used as a motivation of sorts

Most people deemed his truthful nature to be harmful yet you’re astoundingly adept in his true nature, you easily read between the lines and see his objective clearly

“Can I ask you something ?,” his sudden inquiry surprises you, it is usually you who do the asking, you deem this as a pleasant surprise

“Sure go ahead,” you reply casually while masking your excitement, he rarely does this so you’re ecstatic

“I know you’re both emotionally and intellectually intelligent, but I can’t seem to grasp why you’re so reckless at times,” he smiles as he ask this question, he’s mostly likely to remember a gamble you took a few weeks ago

Well granted you almost lose your life by gambling your life away in a literal sense to gain a dictator’s trust towards the IPC, but at least you won

Ever since that stunt, Ratio seems to respect you more although afterwards he berated your gamble for two hours straight

“Audaces fortuna iuvat,” you reply as you stare at his face, his merely scoffs as he took notice of the philosophy behind your statement

In a sudden trance he leans down towards your face, ardently reading through your flustered expression caused by the sudden close proximity “Fortune favours the bold, that’s very true to yourself,” his voice deepens as it is drenched in sultriness

Well this is an uncharted territory between you both-

He then leans back towards his previous position, smirking as he relish in your dumbstruck expression, he gently strokes your hair as a sign of acknowledgement something you didn’t knew you enjoyed before

“Now then we should get going, our next meeting is due in approximately 13 minutes,” he stated as he retracts his hand away and leaves you behind yet again but this time speechless and flustered

“H-hey !, what was that about ?,” you huff as you try to catch up with him, not knowing that he’s currently blushing himself underneath that cold exterior of his

“What have I done..” he mutters as he covers his face with his alabaster head

[jazzyoranges]

Princess Treatment

Tara Carpenter x fem!reader

Request: can u write about tara being clingy to the reader. it's like tara wont let go of reader, she follows wherever the reader goes

Words: 1k

Warnings(?): some talks of Tara’s past trauma, honestly it’s just fluff idk what to tell you

“Tara, the love of my life, you can’t come with me to work”

“Why not?” Tara groans, wrapping her arms around your waist in a grip that rivaled a gorilla

“Baby, they hired me. Not me and my girlfriend”

“Being a barista surely can’t be that difficult!“ The younger Carpenter only holds onto you even tighter

“How about this. You can sit in the cafe and watch me work while you finish your studying” You offer, pressing a kiss to her forehead while holding her face in your hands

“Well I can’t study while I’m busy staring at you, babe”

“Would you rather me leave you here?”

“Studying at a coffee shop it is” Tara beams, and you can’t help but roll your eyes with a smile on your face

Work was normal. Nothing out of the ordinary other than Tara not being able to keep her eyes off you, which, you send her multiple glares to do her homework. Honestly, you didn’t really mind how clingy Tara was. You knew what the smaller Carpenter has been through

Coming to the conclusion your girlfriend refused to ever leave your side was due to past trauma, you quickly decided there was no harm in making Tara feel better. “Happy wife, happy life” as they say

So Tara stayed. She stayed until her eyes were heavy. Tara stayed with you until the shop was about to close, and your boss gave you a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. You shrug in response, moving to wake up your sleepy girlfriend

Tara’s eyes flutter open, and you can feel your heart melt at how fucking adorable she is. You could never be able to understand how anyone would willingly try to put her in harms way. A single look from her sent your heart spiraling

A small yawn comes from the brunette’s mouth, making her eyes crinkle just the way you liked

“C’mon, Tar, it’s time to go home” You whisper, trying your best to not wake her too much. You’ve already packed Tara’s school things in her bag by the time she’s awake

Tara does her little grabby hands towards you, and you can hear your coworkers snort at your little interaction. You give them the finger before putting on Tara’s backpack, and also somehow putting on Tara. Her legs wrap around your waist while her arms around your neck. Being close to you was one of Tara’s favorite things

Even in her sleepy and blissed out state the younger Carpenter smiles into your shoulder, inhaling your scent. Tara always associated you with safety. You were there when she cried, smiled, cried some more, and now you were here carrying her to your car like the angel she was. Princess treatment, if you will

But you were okay with being Tara’s knight in shining armor, princess charming, or whatever the hell she wanted. But right now Tara wanted to sleep in your arms. Her brain threatened sleep, but she didn’t want you to be carrying her around like a rag doll. Like she wasn’t already one to begin with

Tara couldn’t recall the night if she tried to. First she was studying with half-lidded eyes, the next she was being carried to your car, and now here she was tucked under your blanket with one of your clean shirts on her body and nothing else but underwear

The bathroom light was turned on in the hallway, and Tara wanted nothing more than to be in your arms again. She missed you quite a lot in her sleep

Against her body’s will, Tara trudged to the bathroom. The wooden floors were cold under her feet, but they were a small price to pay to see you. She could hear your electric toothbrush spin as she neared

Some of the wooden planks squeaked as Tara walked, so you weren’t surprised when she opened up the rest of the door and wrapped her arms around your torso. You spit out your toothpaste, and quickly rinsed out your mouth to start your skincare

“You weren’t in bed, (Y/n/n)…” The younger Carpenter mumbles sleepily

“I’m sorry, Tar. I had to finish up cleaning around the house and my schoolwork”

“It s’okay, I just missed you” Tara yawns

“How about you go back to bed? I’ll be done in a few minutes”

“Mmm… I wanna stay here with you.”

“You’re tired, love. Go to sleep for me?” You try to convince her with a kiss, but it only seems to drive her closer into your back. You sigh in defeat, and Tara knows she’s won when you focus on your skincare again

Tara sways behind you a little, holding onto your stomach like you’ll fly away if she doesn’t. Tara wants to keep you all to herself. She was greedy like that

Tara thinks a few minutes pass? She’s too tired to keep track. Your girlfriend may as well be asleep when you’re finished in the bathroom. You turn off the light, still in Tara’s embrace, and turn around so she’s no longer facing your back

“Wish you were in bed, yet?” You whisper

“No, cause you’re here…” Your girlfriend mumbles again. You’d probably never be able to get over how cute she could be without knowing it. Unfortunately, Tara doesn’t show any signs of moving and you know exactly what she wants

Hooking your arms under her knees, you easily hoist you girlfriend up and onto the bathroom counter. Tara gives you a quick kiss before she nuzzles into the crook of your neck as you carry her for the second time tonight

If Tara made you carry her until the ends of the earth, then so be it. Sore arms were worth it if you got to see your girlfriend smile. You gently place Tara on the bed, yet her arms still wrap around your neck like a tiny koala. A very tiny koala

You have to manually remove her hands from your neck, and you can hear her huff in frustration. You’re quick to make it better by cuddling her, your front to her back. Tara falls asleep again with you on her mind

[dantakeyoman]

You Sing Neteyam His Mother’s Songcord In Order To Calm Him Down (SFW)

Reader is Fem! Omaticaya

CW: fluffy angst, Neteyam is angry with his father, reader is such a good girlfriend ( you two are promised but haven’t mated yet ), kenten is the swirling gecko from the first movie, atokirina are the little floating seeds.

“Why must I always take responsibility for his actions?! I may be the older brother, but that does not mean I should be the one punished!” Neteyam vented, angrily skipping a rock across the bioluminescent water of the river.

“Have you tried telling your father this? Maybe he’ll listen,” you softly suggested, trying to give some sort of comfort to him.

You hadn’t seen Neteyam this mad in a long time.

He and Lo’ak were supposed to be lookouts for the most recent raid on the Sky people, but, like usual, Lo’ak rushed in without thinking and ended up getting them both grounded.

A lot of good that was doing seeing Neteyam sneaked out to meet you.

“Of course I have! But he never listens! He treats me and Lo’ak like soldiers. We are not family to him. For Eywa’s sake, I have to call him sir!” Neteyam exclaimed, roughly running a hand through his braids.

In a yell of frustration, he walks over to the tree you were resting against and punches it with all his might, leaving a fairly sized dent.

The vibrations shook you to your core, and was your wake up call to calm him down before he did something rash.

“Mawhey, Neteyam. Don’t let your anger crowd you reason,” you said with furrowed brows, your stern tone snapping him out of it.

No matter how mad, there was no reason to strike the tree.

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at the ground with balled fists.

You sighed, replacing your frown with a smile and holding out your hand to him.

“Come,” you beckoned, any trace of scolding now gone.

He huffed, begrudgingly taking your hand, letting out an oof when you roughly yanked him down to the ground, placing his head in your lap.

“(y/n), what are you doin-?” “Hush,” you shushed, placing a finger to his lips.

He kept quiet, and you moved a stray braid out his face, fixing your shoulders against the tree so you were comfy.

“Lie si oe Neteyamur. Nawma sa’nokur, mìfa oeyä,” you sang, running your fingers through his hair so softly, it made Neteyam almost loathe the way he did it earlier.

He looked up at you awestruck, surprised and confused as to how you knew the song his mother sang to him throughout his childhood, the memories that came flooding back washing away all the anger he held before.

“Atanti ngal molunge, mìpa tìreyti, mìpa tìkanti,” you continued, turning towards the beautiful river that stood next to you.

It was all so tranquil. Your voice, the flowing water, the head massage. 

He was soon forgetting why he was so angry in the first place.

“Lawnol a mì te’lan. Lawnol a mì te’lan,” you both looked up to see a kenten jump off from higher branch, it’s frills unfurling as it calmly floated down to the ground.

“Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, tonìri tìreyä. Ngaru irayo seiyi ayoe, Srrìri tìreyä.”

Neteyam could feel his head nodding, his eyelids becoming impossibly heavy. 

And looking at you...you were ethereal. Smiling and glowing, beaming down like rays of pure sunlight.

All for him.

And that’s when he saw a flurry of atokirina descending from above.

You noticed his change in expression and looked up as well, only to see the seeds circling the both of you, hanging in the air like stars right before your eyes.

“Ma Eywa, Ma Eywa,” you finished, a soft smile gracing your lips as an atokirina landed in the palm of your hand.

And after letting it rest for a moment, you held it up and allowed it to float away, the others following suit.

Probably on their way to grace another.

“You see, Neteyam? This is a sign from Eywa. You father means no harm. He loves and cares for you deeply, and only wants what’s best for you,” you smiled, placing a feather-light kiss between his eyes.

But Neteyam didn’t see it that way.

He saw it as a sign from Eywa saying that no matter how bad things got, angry, frustrating, or scary, you would be there. You would be his escape, his safety, his peace.

He had no responsibilities with you ( except protecting you, of course ). When alone, it was just you and him.

And all he had to do was lay down, rest, and listen contently as you sang.

[franzivonkarma]

I desperately need people to understand that Franziska's whipping thing really isn't solely a silly character gimmick. Of course it is to a degree, just like Godot and coffee and Klavier and air guitar in court, but so often I see people dismiss Franziska's whipping trait as an annoying feature that adds nothing to her character and I cannot stand it. This is a bit of a rant and I touch on gender inequality and the way I see a lot of men treat her as a character a decent amount within this because I feel like the fact that she is a woman is actually very important to this element of her character, and her treatment is also a lot of the reason why I feel compelled to talk about this in the first place.

Firstly what you need to understand is that not only is Franziska a woman, she is also laughably young when she becomes a prosecutor. She's a 13 year old girl trying to hold the attention of a courtroom of mostly grown men and be taken seriously. It's no secret that misogyny does exist in the Ace Attorney universe of course (see: Godot), but aside from this, maybe it's just because I've been playing Ace Attorney Investigations recently, but she is just very small all around. It's a running gag in Turnabout Reminiscence that she is short, she's small, she can't see things Edgeworth can - although granted Edgeworth is definitely fairly tall, most estimates I've seen linger around 5'8-5'10 (around 170-180cm). And of course, she is only 13 here, she's not done growing, but it's at this age that she actually did begin to prosecute. Naturally, she'd often be underestimated, and we can see a strong desire to prove herself during Turnabout Reminiscence, even just to her father; I can only imagine that this would extend further into her trials as a young girl. Secondly, she's the daughter of Manfred von Karma, whom she idolises to a godlike status and who teaches her everything she knows about prosecuting, and also a lot about life in general - he's her father. There's a lot I could say about their dynamic, but I feel that much of it doesn't need to be said in this specific post if you're already here dedicated to Franziska enough to bother reading this post.

Manfred's courtroom (and often, regular) behaviour revolves a lot around him taking complete control of the entire courtroom, with him even speaking over the judge, overruling objections he does not like and sustaining his own, and instructing witnesses himself. He also often snaps his fingers to direct attention to himself and his point. Franziska learns this, but how does a literal 13 year old girl follow her father in this regard? Well, by force. Whipping someone is a very clear way to get their attention. Not only the person it hits but the people around - whips cracking are loud, they take up a lot of visual space, and they also obviously cause harm to the person they hit. These are all things you can't really ignore - it forces you to look at her and pay attention to her and gives her control of the room exactly like Manfred. I've also been thinking a lot about the end of Justice For All in relation to this. She's lost to Phoenix multiple times and she couldn't beat him even once just to prove that she was better than Edgeworth as she so desperately wanted to. This brings me to another point about her use of her whip. While I think control is a huge aspect and is my main focus here, I think it falls more under the umbrella of Franziska's own perceived shortcomings. We also know that she doesn't believe she lives up to her father's genius, and that she consistently feels like she's walking in Edgeworth's shadow, she says it herself:

I think at least some part of the reason her whip is so important is because she believes she could very well be less than equal to others in the room in terms of certain traits. She sees her father as a genius, knows she isn't equal to him, and internalises this (whether she is actually less intelligent or not I personally don't know what I believe, I haven't played Justice For All in over a year and a half and I would have to replay it to decide my thoughts).

In having to be perfect, there are many expectations she cannot live up to, and this leads to many ways in which she falls short of what she believes she should be. By using her whip, again, she can account for her perceived shortcomings in other areas - control, her intelligence, her ability as a prosecutor. I think this last scene of JFA actually introduces us to the idea that Franziska is somewhat self-doubting in some ways and compares herself a lot with others, not just Manfred, but also Edgeworth, which we see more of in Ace Attorney Investigations during Turnabout Reminiscence, where we see her at 13 attempting to prove that she can "out-logic" Edgeworth for the entire case, and essentially, that she is "more perfect" than he is.

But to come back to her whip, control, and the end of Justice For All.

She is left with little of who she was before and doesn't know how to move on - everything she was taught to be from the moment she was born, she no longer is. She is 18 here, prosecuting for 5 years already and desperate to be prosecuting for even longer. As far as her life was set out, this was basically it for her - become a perfect prosecutor and prosecute perfectly just like Manfred - the ideal prosecutor in her eyes.

A Von Karma is perfect, but she is not - she lost, just like Edgeworth, whom she shamed for the same thing. She gives up her whip here, and I feel that it's truly symbolic of how she feels like she's completely lost control of herself, her life, her relationship with her father and most obviously her occupation as a prosecutor. How could she continue being a prosecutor when she no longer lives up to the idea of it that she's had her entire life? What use is her whip if she will not need to hold the court's attention any longer?

I'm sure a million other people have thrown their coin in the pot on this exact topic, and I'm sure many have said the same thing as me and many have said something different, but I needed to write my thoughts out about it because I couldn't stop thinking about her. This is one big reason why I feel like I see a lot of men who don't understand Franziska and see her as very annoying, gimmicky, and my least favourite - a "female Edgeworth." She is a woman who steals attention and space forcibly; both from characters in-game, and also from the player with her animations that take up time in trials and a lot of the visual space. Of course this makes her unpopular with a lot of men. I'm not saying that if you dislike her or the whip it comes from a place of misogyny, I am saying that I think her whipping trait is reduced to a stupid, annoying gimmick more than, say, Godot and his coffee, because a lot of people don't really care to see that there is intention behind it that reveals a lot about her character, just like how Godot's coffee problem is relevant to his backstory.

[k2ntoss]

hihi, it me, back again with more jason brain rot, this time brought to you by this random Instagram reel i saw while having dinner lol

anyway, just imagine this with Jay?? like, warm cozy domestic hugs and kisses in the middle of the kitchen?? simple domestic bliss?? absolute dreammmmmm 😭😭

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C3nuMFVMRhe/?igsh=MXhqMWdtYTQxbDNqMw==

-🦊

ps. hope you're doing well lovely, miss you <3

i crave and need fluff bc i love me a little sweet jason !!!!!!!!!!! (i'm single and i want a nice relationship) i can't see the reel now BUUUUUT i'm gonna do my magic and be a simp and this could be a second fluffy part to that drabble with subby jason having to skip patrol after getting good head from his gf hehehe you can read thar here

sometimes having your girlfriend to call sick for you so you can take a rest earns you three well deserved days to sleep late and have comforting hours without having to worry about patching wounds or chasing after criminals.

so after a night of being completely unable to move from bed because of how dizzy his head was, he's clumsily going out of the bedroom looking for you, rubbing his eyes to try and push his tiredness away because he didn't liked the feeling of waking up after you, when you had already left the bed and he isn't able to pull you closer and kiss you right away.

it's funny to see him like that, while you wait on the living room drinking a cup of coffee for him to wake up you're able to see him walk out of the room still half asleep but he looks just too cute. jason is a 6ft tall guy, big as a wall and rough but there he was, dragging his feet, his hair all fluffy and the black hoodie he wore to sleep looking messy; you can see him walk to the kitchen and he grunts softly when he sees nobody there but as soon as he turns around he spots you.

you know what jason is about to trap you under his body but damned be his long legs because you're not able to properly set your cup aside when jason is letting his weight fall over you like a tired cat "wait, baby... the coffee" you say between giggles but it's too late when your boyfriend is cuddling himself into your arms, hugging your waist and nuzzling his face against your neck "good morning, jay"

"g' morning, princess..." he mutters, voice is still hoarse but sweet as he greets you "why were you out of bed?" jason asks, kissing softly a small trail in your neck as you wrap one of your legs around his waist.

"were you looking for me, love? i thought about making breakfast for you before you woke up..." you say softly, trying to move and lean a bit to leave your cup on the table but failing when he just cuddles more into your chest making you chuckle softly "you looked so pretty sleeping i couldn't wake you up... are you still tired, red?" and that nickname makes him grin goofily, he loves the way it sounds when you call him that and even more as you keep babying him with soft pecks on his forehead.

"i feel like i could sleep for a month... but only if you're there with me" jason's voice is a low rumble, his words sending shivers through her spine and that mixed with how sweet it was knowing that he wanted you by his side even when his last months as the red hood had been so tiring.

"want to make breakfast with me and then we go eat on bed? we could watch a movie, does that sound good?" you ask him, reaching to cup jason's face between your hands and pressing a soft kiss on his lips which he gladly accepts with a soft purr leaving his throat.

he nods and you can swear he's never looked so calm before, so well rested and it was just what he needed more than anything. jason was sure he had done a lot of harm and there would be days when he didn't feel like deserving you but right now, having his sweet girlfriend to look at him like he hung up the moon and stars makes him feel worthy of love and care, even the big bad red hood deserved to be babied after all.

"then let's go, big guy" you say, starting to squirm in a failed attempt to slide from under jason's body and he chuckles at it before moving with you on his arms, picking your body up and walking to the kitchen as he lets soft kisses fall to your cheeks and neck before putting you back down.

and the morning goes like that, jason wishes he could get more of this. the way you walk around the kitchen as he tries to help, pouting softly when you don't let him do everything because he has to rest, he loves the warmth he feels on his chest as you walk past him and he pulls you back to steal a kiss from your lips before you try to walk away only to end up with him clinging to your back, kissing the top of your head as you cook.

[lovermyme]

Was thinking about merlin and listening to mitski today and

Post revel where arthur reacts very well at merlins magic, unbans magic and merlin cant actually process that

Yeah, thats about "its just that i fell in love with a war, nobody told me it ended", he suffered too much to allow it to be this easy. Can u imagine? What do u mean arthur and the knights are laughing amused by him magically lighting the fire? It is a big deal.

Merlins saw many many sorcerers be cremated alive to be normal. He heard the screams and smelled the burned skin, the toasted meat.

I havent watched the shows in years but like, i guess he have a "privileged view" of the pire from his room too....... He thinks if uther did that on purpose, by giving gaius (the only sorcerer uther allowed to stay, in his conditions of course) this place of all in the castle...... Like a warning...

The only "mentors" merlin had where a dragon, that had been imprisoned for morethan 20 years. And a old man, that had been walking on eggs for more than 20 years too. They were shit at giving advices, yeah but. Its understandable at some point.

He has blood in his hands. Non sorcerer and sorcerer. Friends and enemies. Civilians. He released kilgharra. Fuck, he lied at the morgouse trials, about arthurs mother! Why is arthur ok w that? He think he is a traitor, of both his kind........

Bonus point if good mordred. Like, mordred adapting very well at the shift laws, and excited about doing magic in frnt of arthur and arthur liking it???? Merlin cant understand. He debated about killing this child.

bONUS BONUS POINT If merlin is struggling at doing magic in front of arthur and the knights, and arthurs doesn't know he is emrys the most powerful sorcerer to walk on earth aND YET IS SO AMUSED. And like, *merlin shaking while firing the fire* arthur and evryone: THATS AMAZING MERLIN 👏👏👏👏 And mordred is so confused

I need a fic like this

Mordred becomes court sorcerer because arthur thinks merlin is not powerful and everything (in a worried way not in a disposed way). Merlin is not jealous, he doesn't care about titles, actually he do like his job, its just about the irony of the thing. Mordred is so so confused.

He does his job amazing, he uses magic and its okay at doing it. When no one is looking. If someone, thats not gaius, is looking, he hardly can do.

He cant do magic w arthurs watching.

Unless its a Arthur's life treating situation.

Its not that he is actually scared of arthur, its just that he simple cant. Theres even a tecnical term for this. Its like a emotional block, but w his magic. He cant control it. He has been under pressure for so long he cant just let go ya know.

Ok, its my post, i like mordred, im gonna put my thoughts here.

Au where mordred was the one who changes arthurs mind about magic. Like, arthur is watching mordred, the one he know has magic and is a druid and asks him if he stills do magic and mordred thinks and chooses honesty and says "to make a fire when noone is looking" or some non harmful thing. And Arthur is like "a sorcerer can be a Knight, im shifting the law". And he shift the law and Merlin is like, was is that easy? *Mental breakdown * meltdown *burnout*

The thing is: it wasn't just because of mordred, like, Arthur's kingdom has been kind w the sorcerers already, not having burned a lot and no one in mordred presence, because arthur is a kind king.

And th thing is how mordred and merlin lived different lifes while in camelot, ya know. Even through mordred has heard stories and lost friends and family to camelots fire, Merlin lived in it.

Merlin, he is extremely suspicious about mordred coming out as sorcerer to arthur (because he is suspicious of mordred), he thinks maybe its a trick, to bring evil sorcerers to kill arthur, something, he even debates w arthur if shifting thelaw is the right choice. He feels awful about his position, but he cant process that everything is alright, he is so suspicious about everything and so scared arthur might put himself in danger.

He tells arthur he has magic after he lift the ban. Arthur is so confused because of merlins position about the law, but he is fine w merlin. And merlin islike "im gonna to protect u i promise, im super powerful", of course he cant prove he is powerful because this whole post.

Im tired now im stoping, but im still thinking alot.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Broken Heart Mender

Requested Here!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After hearing Tim tell Angela why he's not in a relationship with you, you pull away and make yourself sick with a broken heart. After too long without hearing from you, Tim finds you and promises to make everything better.

Warnings: reader gets sick (vomiting, headache, losing weight, crying), slight miscommunication, angst to fluff & hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

“You know, you’re here a lot for someone who doesn’t work here,” Smitty points out.

“And you’re here a lot for someone who doesn’t work at all,” you argue playfully.

“She’s got a point,” Tim adds, shrugging at Smitty’s offended look.

You smile at Tim as you walk out, needing to return to your own station after spending too long on paperwork (to visit Tim). He’s been your friend since you were a rookie, and now he’s so much more.

You and Tim are safe places for one another; whenever one needs it, the other becomes an unlicensed therapist, a no-strings-attached hugger or cuddler on bad days, and a good listener, no matter the time or problem. Part of why you’re so willing to do such things for Tim is because you have feelings for him, a long-harbored crush that grows each time he’s kind to you or asks for your advice.

Tim, however, will happily listen to your problems and provide a shoulder to cry on, but he prefers to show his care by being what some (Angela) might call a ‘protective menace.’ He’s had feelings for you for as long as he can remember and shows it by staying close and keeping you out of harm’s way.

Whenever you run into each other at work, you find a way to stay together, and while Tim protects you, you try your hardest to make him smile. You like doing small things for him to make him happy because he deserves it. Likewise, he stays close because you deserve more than anyone can ever give you.

The only problem is that you’re both scared to let your feelings show, so you disguise it as friendship, a special bond that no one can break. Only a few people, those willing to look, can see that there’s more to your actions and words than a time-tested and bulletproof friendship.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim sighs when he sees Angela sitting at his desk.

“Don’t you have work to do?” he asks.

“You have questions to answer,” she replies, moving out of his seat and blocking the door. “I want to know about you and your friend.”

Tim rolls his eyes at her tone and air quotes. She has asked him about you before, but she’s relentless.

“Why aren’t you in a real relationship? Why haven’t you asked her out?” Angela inquires.

“Not your business, Lopez,” Tim answers.

✯✯✯✯✯

You slow as you near Tim’s office, his voice and Angela’s drawing your attention as your smile drops.

“Just tell me why you won’t let her in that last little bit,” Angela demands.

“Not that it is any of your concern, but we won’t work. We’re not made for each other, we’re not soulmates, and we will not be good for each other, not like that,” Tim snaps.

Swallowing, you feel like your heart physically drops into your stomach, making you nauseous as you fight tears. You leave before Tim or Angela notice you’re outside, unwilling to see Tim after learning how he feels.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What does that mean, Timothy?” Angela asks, quieter as she digs for the real reason.

Tim shakes his head, not ready to admit that he doesn’t consider himself relationship material. Regardless, you deserve someone better than him, though he has never considered it the other way around: you are too good for him and always have been.

“You’re right, it’s not my business. But it is hers,” Angela reminds him before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Distancing yourself from Tim is hard, but after his comments to Angela, it’s what you have to do. Tim doesn’t have feelings for you and thinks you aren’t good enough, which hurts. More than your feelings, you are mentally distraught. Your emotions are all over the place, swinging aimlessly from anger to denial to an overwhelming sadness that makes it impossible to do anything but cry.

After a long night of fighting with your emotions, you try to eat breakfast and realize that the hurt is physical, too. Rushing to the bathroom, you empty your stomach before moving to the floor as your tears continue. Losing Tim is the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, and this is only the beginning.

The alarm on your phone goes off, and you pull yourself off the bathroom floor and get ready, ignoring the pain building behind your eyes and the churning sensation in the pit of your stomach. It will be a long day, but if you can power through, you will take some time off next week.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is neck-deep in paperwork for a Metro case, but every spare second he has is spent calling and texting you. You don’t answer, and Tim can't do anything as his worry increases. He realizes Angela was right, and you deserve to know how he feels and why he keeps you so close, yet not close enough.

✯✯✯✯✯

By the end of the day, you haven’t been able to keep a single thing down, and you’re not sure if the emotional or physical pain is worse. Collapsing onto your couch, you let the tears begin anew as your week of PTO begins and your life as you know it ends.

Each day seems worse than the last, as you get sicker and sadder with each passing moment. When you summon the courage to step on the scale on Sunday morning, just three days after hearing Tim’s comments, you’ve lost a concerning amount of weight. You know it’s dangerous, but between the constant crying and the anxiety and sadness eating at you, there isn’t much you can do. There isn’t much you want to do except find a way to make yourself good enough for Tim Bradford.

✯✯✯✯✯

It’s been days since Tim heard from you, and he’s worried. When Mid-Wilshire gets called to assist your station, he hopes to see you. Tim searches the crowd of blue until he finds your partner.

“Bradford,” your partner greets.

Tim asks where you are, curious as to why you aren’t together, and your partner explains that you’ve been off work since Saturday, sick with something.

“Do you know if she’s okay?” Tim asks.

“All I know is it has to be bad for her to take this much time off,” your partner explains with an apologetic shrug before being called away.

Tim’s protectiveness kicks into overdrive, his worry keeping him from being able to focus on anything else. He finds his captain and tells him what's going on before asking if he can go check on you.

As he drives to your apartment, Tim hopes it’s not as bad as it sounds while beating himself up for not coming to visit you sooner. The ignored calls should have been a sign that something was wrong, but he let work get in the way. Though you aren’t there to hear it, Tim promises he will never neglect you again.

✯✯✯✯✯

It takes a minute to realize that the pounding sound is someone knocking and not an effect of your headache. Stumbling to the door, you answer it without checking who it is. When you see Tim’s face, you try to close the door, but you’re too weak, and Tim is too quick.

He rushes inside, looking at your pale face, unruly hair, and how your clothes hang off of you: an indicator you're unhealthily losing weight. It’s enough to push his protective side to action even as he fears the worst.

“You should go,” you tell him.

Tim ignores you, walking to your kitchen and setting water on the oven to boil. While he waits, Tim straightens up your apartment, moving quickly from room to room. He hasn’t spoken to you yet, and as you watch him, your emotions take over again.

With a few tears running down your face, you raise your voice and say his name. “You need to go.”

“No,” he answers simply. “You need help, you’re obviously sick and you’re not answering my calls.”

Tim's presence and how he acts like nothing has changed, and he’s still the protective friend he pretends to be, hurts you.

“Tim, get out!” you demand.

“Let me help,” he argues.

Shaking your head, you walk to your room and close the door, curling around your pillow as you cry. Each noise Tim makes in the kitchen feels like he’s laughing at you, and you don’t know how much more of this you can take.

He lets himself into your room after knocking, setting a mug of tea beside your bed, and rubbing your back. He notices how you stiffen but thinks it’s because you’re sick.

“What do you want to eat?” he asks.

“I want you to go.”

Tim nods, more to himself than you, and walks out of your bedroom. 

You hear the door close behind him and roll over, unable to decide if you want to drink the tea or throw it at the wall.

✯✯✯✯✯

The following morning, you wake, and the first thing you remember is Tim leaving yesterday. Yes, you asked him to, but it still hurts. The cold mug beside your bed is a cruel reminder of everything you’ve lost. Rolling out of bed, you reach for the water on the nightstand. After the first drink, you race for the bathroom, wondering how long it takes for a broken heart to heal.

Someone pulls your hair out of your face, a kind hand pressed to your back as you cry. When you feel able, you lean back against the tub behind you. Tim moves back, wetting a washcloth before he kneels beside you. As he wipes your face and neck with the cool rag, you wonder what he’d do if you gave him an out.

“I heard what you said,” you admit quietly. “That we wouldn’t be good together.”

Tim slows his movements as he listens to you.

“It hurt.”

Fresh tears break over your waterline, tracking down your cheeks. Tim realizes that he’s the reason you feel so bad; that one comment made to protect his feelings, to hide them, made you feel so bad that you’re now physically sick.

“Hey,” he begins, moving to sit before you when you turn away. “Listen, I know you don’t want to believe me, but I only said that to get Angela to leave me alone, to protect myself. I don’t think that.”

“But you said it,” you point out tearily.

“I know, and I’m sorry. The truth is we wouldn’t be good together, but not because of you, never because of you. It’s me; I am not made for relationships and I’m not good enough for you.”

You choke on a sob, leaning toward Tim. He extends his arm, letting you move against his side.

“Since we met, I’ve wanted more,” he whispers against your hair. “But I was scared you’d realize I’m broken and leave… like everyone else.”

Shaking harder against his side, you cling to him as all your emotions mix. There is a chance this is a dream, but if you have to lose Tim, this seems like the best way to say goodbye.

“C’mon,” Tim urges gently, pulling you with him as he stands.

With a gentle hand on your back and one on your shoulder, Tim leads you to the couch. Covering you with a blanket, he promises to come right back. When he returns with a glass of water and a pack of crackers, you turn toward him.

“Are you going to leave?” you whisper.

Tim shakes his head. “Never.”

Nodding, you accept the crackers. After you eat a few and drink half the water Tim gave you, you sit back.

“I cleaned your apartment last night,” Tim tells you. “You want to change and clean up?”

You take a deep breath, and Tim senses your apprehension before adding, “I’ll help you.”

Taking Tim’s hand, you follow him back into your bedroom. After you change into the clothes he hands you, you sit on the bathroom vanity and let him wash your face and secure your hair.

“When’s the last time you ate? More than a few bites, I mean,” Tim asks, laying a hand on your thigh.

You shrug before admitting, “Last Wednesday.”

Tim’s jaw clenches, but he hides it with a quick nod. “I’m going to make you some more food. I know you probably don’t want to eat, and you don’t have to eat much, but you need something.”

Moving your hand onto Tim’s, you interlace your fingers with his. He leans in, releasing a chuckle when you throw your arms around his neck. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he pulls you to the edge of the vanity.

“I missed you,” you whisper in his ear.

“I missed you too,” he responds.

✯✯✯✯✯

As you dry the ends of your hair while you exit the bathroom, you feel like a new person.

“We need to talk,” Tim says when he sees you. Your smile falls, and Tim takes your hand. “Not like that,” he promises.

“Like what?” you ask, curling your legs under you as you sit beside him.

“I meant what I said, but I need to make sure you know that. I have feelings for you, I have for a long time, I’m just terrified to show them because I’m not good enough for you.”

Boldly, you press your finger to his lips to stop him. He raises his brows at your movement, smiling with you.

“Yes, you are. You’re more than good enough. That’s why I fell in love with you.”

Tim pulls your hand away from his face, kissing your finger as he does so. “Even though I broke your heart and made you sick?”

“Broken heart sickness is curable, and you’re a pretty good doctor,” you tease, leaning toward him.

“I promise to make it better, and never do it again.”

You nod, trusting him entirely. Now that you’ve had a shower and heard that Tim feels the same, your stomach growls.

“It’s working already,” Tim says.

“I’m hungry again,” you marvel, smiling at Tim.

“I’ll offer a trade,” Tim begins. “A home-cooked meal for you, and a kiss for me.”

You nod, but Tim adds, “And I promise never to lie to protect myself again. I’ll tell you exactly how I feel, as long as you do the same.”

“I feel like I love you, Tim Bradford,” you reply, pulling him in for the promised kiss.

Your kiss is better than he expected, and Tim loses himself in the feeling of you until your stomach growls again, and you laugh against his lips. Tim broke your heart, but he put it back together with a piece of his; the best-broken-heart-mender in the world was by your side all along.

[oimitocat]

BELOVED | OS

lee minho x m!reader

angst + breaking up & getting back together + fluff + crying + drunk minho + idol! au

a/n: loved writing this. i love writing for minho. also— s/n = stage name. n/n = nickname. i/n = idol name

the headline reads this— “stray kids rapper s/n seen talking to i/n a lot more recently. ever since their collaboration with their hit song ‘sing to me’ fans have seen them interact every show or-“

minho stops reading. he doesn’t want to read more. his mind is already working, y/n indeed has been interacting with i/n after their collab. he hasn’t seen anything more than their occasional hello’s or respectful bows, but what are these comments saying?

‘s/n definitely fell in love, like who wouldn’t? i/n is BEAUTIFUL!’

‘s/n once again proving he can pull’

‘the behind the scenes of sing to me was so wholesome!’

‘stop they get so gushy around each other! have you seen how she nervously rubs s/n’s arm when they interact?’

minho’s heart is heavy. genuinely, it seems like you’re taking a liking of i/n.

“y/n and i/n?” chan questions when the younger comes to him about his grievance. he literally didn’t know who else to go to. “minho aren’t you doubting y/n’s love for you?

minho scrunches his nose a bit, “i’m not. i’m just saying everyone is seeing things that i’m not sure about.”

chan drops the beat he’s making and spins around to face minho. he sighs discreetly, “have you talked to y/n about this?”

“yes.” he lies.

chan raises a brow, clearly not believing him. minho doesn’t like that, so he stands up and leaves. chan doesn’t bother with him, if minho doesn’t want to talk he won’t. he simply shakes his head and hopes for the best.

the best turns out to be the worst. two days later images and texts start circulating. it’s hard to decipher whether it’s true or not. to minho, the texts sound exactly like y/n. he hears you talk about your management trying to fix this but you’re too calm about it. it eats away at him. even when you pepper him with “reassuring” kisses, even when you call him to tell him about the latest updates. he doesn’t believe that there really isn’t anything between you and i/n. he finds himself looking at those (edited) pictures and he ends up believing that you two look good together.

better than what he and you would ever be.

after months of being at your place, which had become his as well, he moves his things bit by bit. you don’t notice at first, too drained from all the meetings and gatherings management has made you go through. your too tired to love him correctly. too tired to stay awake during a conversation. he feels abandoned.

when the final statement gets out the public, it says this— “we have come to announce that as much as we appreciate the support fans have given s/n, we ask fans to respect the idol’s wishes. he has no dating contract, but chooses to keep to himself and focus on his music career. s/n is willing to let fans know if he ever does have something to announce. until then, all images or content published to harm the idol’s reputation and career will be taken down and seeing foreseeable action….” minho stops reading.

he’s standing in the kitchen. there’s so many things going through his head. it’s been like that these last couple of weeks. why haven’t you talked to him about it? sure, he doesn’t mention it, but why haven’t you said anything to him?

could it be… true?

“hey, baby,” you chirp happily as you walk through the door.

maybe he’s overreacting. he should apologize and move all his things back.

“where were you at?” he asks as he receives the hug from you.

you always smell so good. he loves being engulfed by your cologne as much as by your big, warm hugs- he shoves you off.

“why do you smell like that?” he stares at you.

“huh? like what?” you question, taken aback by his change in mood. you sniff yourself, unsure of what he’s talking about? “do i smell different?”

“you smell like you have expensive perfume on. not cologne. you only wear cologne.”

you blink, perplexed. “uh, well maybe i/n’s perfume clung onto me? i mean we did hug goodbye before leaving the gathering-“

“gathering? what? why were you two at a gathering?”

“our managers just wanted a clear run down-“

“of what? your love lives? because clearly you two have something going on, right!?”

you look around, unsure of what the hell is happening. “what? no! minho what-“

“so you have been meeting up with her! ugh i’m so stupid! i should have known!” he pulls at his hair, frantic, “your the worst! i really hoped it wasn’t true! a-and you come home fucking smelling like her!?”

“minho-“ you try to reach for him but he steps aside and grabs his things— his phone, his wallet and his keys. yet, he throws his keys at you.

“i’m leaving. you and me are done, y/n. i’m clearly not what you want anyway. she’s pretty, famous, everyone sees it! i was just hoping you didn’t.”

his eyes are glassy. he’s going to cry the second he steps outside your apartment. yet, you can’t do anything. he’s not letting you.

he leaves you alone in your apartment, defeated.

abandoned.

“minho? what’s wrong-“ chan doesn’t finish when minho hugs him and bawls his eyes out.

it’s been years since minho had actually cried like this. he can’t believe what he’s hearing either. y/n? cheating? impossible, just yesterday you were telling me about your anniversary plan.

he stays silent though, soothing minho until the younger finishes crying. he won’t pry. he’ll just hope everything gets better….

“she’s a lot better than me, right hyung?” minho’s soft voice asks.

“hm?”

“is that why? because she’s better?” and he cries again, “i hope so…. he always did deserve better.”

“oh minho….” and he’s back to soothing him.

——

days pass. minho doesn’t answer your calls. he doesn’t even read your texts (he does, he just removed the send read receipts). he doesn’t come out to see you when you come to the dorms and try to talk to him.

at some point, he hears seungmin say “poor y/n.”

poor? why? clearly your living your best life, with i/n. he’s not in the way for your true love. he’s not a bother anymore. he’s not yours anymore.

“ugh,” he sniffles, wiping his nose. why does he keep crying over you?

well, he does know. he loves you. and reading the new articles of you and i/n making a new track for your upcoming album makes him feel even worse. what does she have that he doesn’t? are you happier with her than what you’ve ever been with him?

the spiraling.

he doesn’t want to deal with it anymore. yet, why does he believe your messages? he’s unsure, uncertainty drives him to drink it away.

jisung’s still at the studio. no one is witness to him leaving and taking a cab to your place. he doesn’t know why he’s going. there aren’t tears pouring down his eyes no more. it’s just a constant yearning for you even in his hazy state. he was in the wrong, wasn’t he?

for what? for seeking you out?

for breaking up with you?

for not telling you how he felt regarding everything?

“minho?”

oh. your voice. it’s just as good as he remembers it.

“baby, why are you crying?” you take his hand, “hey, minho? have you been drinking?”

he shakes his head, you place your other hand on his cheek and eye him. he is drunk, because he leans in for kiss. you accept it.

“come on, let’s get you inside.”

“no! what if she sees me-“

“no one but you and the guys are allowed in here.” you say strictly, knowing he’s drunk. “come in,” you bring him inside, careful because he’s stumbling over his own steps.

you tuck him into the couch. you and minho would always keep blankets in the living room in case you two spontaneously had movie or tv nights. so you take a blanket and put it over him after laying him down, he quickly huddles into the couch, curling in on himself. you know exactly what to do in this situation. you make him something warm, something he also did for you when you would come home drunk after a night with friends.

“n/n,” he calls out to you while you’re lost in your own thoughts in the kitchen.

“yes?” you walk over to him, peering over from behind the couch and looking at him.

he doesn’t notice, but he knows you’re listening. “i’m sorry….”

“for?”

“for thinking you cheated. for everything.” he sniffles.

“oh, baby,” you walk around the couch and squat down before him. his eyes are teary, nose stuffy. you kiss his nose, “i forgive you baby, i know you had your reasons, we didn’t talk about it.”

his bottom lip quivers, “can we sleep together?”

“of course baby, when you wake up…”

“there will be soup?”

you nod, “there will be soup…”

[yaekiss]

since your normal requests are still open （＾ω＾） i absolutely NEED to go next door to my darling kaeya!!! he can’t just be so devoted and adoringly obsessive without being rewarded! after that little show of a picture he sent, can’t quite be satisfied until i ravage him the way we know he wants </3

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, unhealthy attachment from reader, stalking (from Kaeya), mentions of biting and marking (Kaeya receiving), handjob (Kaeya receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is a (long overdue) sequel to this love letter from a previous event (now closed!) Sigh I really meant to finish this a lot earlier, first it was supposed to be your birthday present then when that date passed by, a v-day gift of sorts,,,,, But it's here now!! Hope it's kind of what you were looking to read @pulpbeing !

The whole walk over to the next room, regardless of how short it was, you were barely cognizant. It was hard to be, when mere minutes ago, it was revealed to you that your lover was some sort of obsessive stalker. (Yet, why does your heart still hammer so hard in your chest?)

Each step draws you closer and closer to Kaeya, and before you even register it, you’ve reached the door to his room. It's the very last one in the hallway. The room opposite his is vacant.

Your blood thrums under the skin of your fingers as you reach out to the smooth cold handle on the door, as if the mere act of crossing that threshold could shatter everything at once.

And to your surprise, the door swings open without any resistance.

The second your foot pads onto the carpet of his room and the door locks behind you, the atmosphere turns electric as a singular starry eye bores into you from where Kaeya is lounging on the bed.

And there he is. Draped in the same lacy white lingerie in the scandalous photograph he sent to you. As if the sight in the picture wasn’t stunning enough already, the sight of your lover before you outright steals the breath from your lungs. 

Adorned in naught by the gauzy fabric, you drag your gaze down from his face, to the crimson-stained trail left from that trickle of wine from his lips. The sheerness of the lingerie leaves nothing to the imagination with the way it snugly hugs his figure. The curve of his chest, his slender yet toned physique, stark white garter belt against the flesh of his thighs.

It's all ridiculously tantalising to you. And he knows it.

“No need to just stand by my door, my heart. You can do more than just gawk at me, you know?” Kaeya all but purrs out to you from where he’s seated, his one eye squinting as he grins.

Somehow, your body has already betrayed your warring thoughts within because when you next blink, you’ve crossed over to the bed, the mattress dipping as you take your seat beside him. His grin grows more blinding at this and he squeezes in closer to you, until your thighs are touching. 

“So the cat’s out of the bag, and now you know I’ve been tailing after you in Fontaine like some lovesick dog off a leash,” he sighs noncommittally, as if he didn’t just admit to stalking you.

He fixes you with a gaze, “How exactly does it make you feel?”

“Is it fear?”

The silence grows when you don’t respond, as if you know in a deep twisted part of your mind, that despite this, Kaeya would never harm a single hair on your head.

“Or is it desire?”

And it’s at this, that your heart thumps. 

The kiss is messy, more tongue and spit than anything else but you can’t be bothered when you’re busy removing the lingerie still on him. He melts into you as your hands wind around his frame, unravelling and undressing him from the flimsy layers of white lace that dare to separate him from you. When you watch the pure white tumble from him, perhaps he’s not the only one whose desires drive them wild.

A breathy moan leaves him as you leave bite mark after bite mark across the expanse of his neck. The feeling of your teeth pressed against his skin, the pressure and force behind it threatening to break past the surface. You’re kind enough to grant him one last hickey prior to pulling back and briefly admiring your handiwork.

Hands trailing down his side, you graze your fingertips over his hips before you settle a palm against his length. Just before he can roll himself up to rut against your hand, your other hand grips the side of his hip, stilling him as a protesting noise slips past his lips.

“You’ll move when I say you can. You can do that for me, yes?” 

Docile, he nods and simply watches on as your hand wraps itself around him. You can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to fuck into your hand. Aided by the precum drooling from his tip, you glide your hand slowly up and down, marvelling at the way his breath hitches and eyes screw shut whenever you twist your grip exactly where you know he likes it.

It doesn’t take long before you can tell he’s reaching his limit. His breathing grows clipped and ragged and his groans and whines become increasingly needy. Every time his hips jerk involuntarily, your hand stills, prompting him to plead pitifully for you to continue. He makes quite the sorry sight before you, and your heart twinges with the need to watch him come undone.

Deciding you’ve toyed with him enough for now, you lean in, whispering, “Go on, let me see how you reward yourself.”

His pulse jackrabbits as you lave your tongue along his jugular, panting out broken “thank you”s at your generosity while he frantically chases his release, rutting into your hand. A quick twist and he’s spilling over, crumpling in on himself as he moans unabashedly at the pleasure you’ve shown to him. He has his chin hooking over your shoulder and arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug whilst riding out his high, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Suddenly, your world tilts when Kaeya pulls you down onto the bed, you lie atop him, trapped in his embrace.

And coy as he is, he slithers next to your ear and whispers breathlessly, “It’s alright, you can have your way with me,” you can feel his heart pound from beneath you, your pulse matching his.

“There’s no one next door anyways.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[bloop-bl00p]

In defense of Octavia

TW: Lots of Trauma Dumping, Mention of abuse

She’s been wronged way too many times in this fandom for some reason. Look at her vibing, how can you hate her?

I’m a fan of Helluva Boss, mainly because of its potential but the quality dropped dead in the second season. We’re gonna talk about a character I’ve seen other fans misinterpreting in favor of the so-great Prince Stolass.

I want to talk about her mainly because I do what I want and because after studying her character I just realized that she’s just like me. Especially regarding her relationship with her father, I see myself in my younger years.

All of that to say…

She has all the right to feel abandoned.

Octavia obliviously has a stronger bond with her father, it shows in her behavior and little background details

When she wants to draw her family, she draws her and Stolas, we mostly see her being happy with him which leads me to think that she’s emotionally neglected by Stella. To her, Octavia is just an ‘egg’ that fell off her and she doesn't care about the impact killing Stolas could have on her daughter.

Despite being emotionally absent, Stella has a much more physical presence than Stolas. Most of the time Stolas is alone in his castle which leads me to think that Octavia is somewhere else with Stella. They did mention the two went on a weekend somewhere. This leads us to this question…

How can Octavia feel more close to her father?

Here’s the thing, I see a lot of my family dynamic here. My mom doesn’t pay attention to me at all, she doesn't want me to bother her and she makes it clear. My dad, however, who’s absent like 90% of the time, always tried to spare time with me. He explained to me that he was working and why he was doing all of this (I was like barely ten) but it never prevented him from trying to play with me, sharing his hobbies, going on a walk, and else.

He was there emotionally and, as a kid who was bullied, had no friends at all, and a mother who didn't give a damn, I cherished this relationship.

I believe the exact same thing happened with Octavia, we never see her with friends or even outside the castle, she’s isolated. Stolas has Prince duties, we’ve seen him carry them in the shows, hence why he’s mostly absent leaving her with her mother. But, at least when she was a kid, he tried to do stuff bringing her to Loo-Loo Land or being the one to comfort her. That is why she clings to her father, he’s the only one who actually shows her love and she’s terrified of losing that.

Regarding her mother, Stella obliviously doesn't care about her so the feeling is reciprocated. From a narrative standpoint, Stella is an unpredictable force of nature getting angry for pretty much anything that doesn't go her way. So Octativa learned to not cross her mother's path.

I know this expression, this is the “Oh fuck… they’re at it again?” she’s used to her mother's constant screaming, she's used to her parents fighting.

She did say they were a time when a parent didn't hate each other, which to me refers to the time when Stolas tanked Stella’s abuse. But, that doesn’t mean that Stella wasn't abusing him in front of a younger Octavia, she’s erratic and they did imply that she can get physical in her toxic behavior. Since Stella was passive, it was probably mostly harmful comments.

Putting personal things here, my mom was also very abusive to my older sibling. Since I was extremely young I learned not to ‘be a burden’ to avoid being abused as well, which includes things like not talking to her unless she does it first. Whether Octavia is aware of the physical abuse or not, she must know enough to know that it’s a bad idea to annoy Stella.

This is the only picture where we see her seemingly having a good relationship with Stolas, which to me feels like she’s faking it considering all we know about the family.

She has a pretty shitty household but her relationship with her father make it bearable until Stolas did a 180°

He randomly started to prioritize Blitz and don’t spill me the bullshit of ‘he’s trying’ he stopped trying long ago.

Let’s analyze this episode by episode:

In Loo Loo Land, Stolas seemingly tries to rebuild a visibly strained relationship with his daughter by bringing her to a park she liked when she was a kid. To this, she immediately responds with an “I’m not 5 anymore.” and an “I rather kill myself.” There’s no room for miscommunication, she doesn't want to go there, and she won’t enjoy it as much as she did back then. Still, he decides to go there, showing that he doesn't listen, and, he brings the one the thing that is currently ruining his already horrible marriage because of his own actions. Blitzø.

He’s trying to spend time with his daughter after a long time (this is mentioned in the episode) and he decides to bring in that one guy he’s hooking up with to deliberately make sexual remarks about him in front of her.

She’s uncomfortable the whole time, not just because she allegedly doesn’t like listening to her father's comments but because she doesn't like the park. She said it, yet Stolas doesn't acknowledge it, he doesn't realize the faces she makes which are to me pretty communicative of her annoyance and discomfort.

This is not even subtle body language, yet he only notices it when she runs off. The worst part is that he still finds a way to think about Blitzø when his daughter leaves.

He looked upset that Blitzø didn't follow him! Did he expect that guy to pursue him constantly? He was in the middle of an argument with his daughter, I personally would have stepped away to give them space to talk and reconcile. But no, apparently Blitzø should be at his beck and call all the time.

But you know what, after all of this. He still apologized. That absolutely does not negate everything he did during the day but, at the end of it, he finally listened to her and even brought her to a place she actually wanted to be. Which is good, he acknowledged her discomfort and did something she liked.

Until Seeing Star.

Look I know Stolas was busy with Stella but he clearly doesn't care about her and her stuff.

Don’t tell me he couldn’t pinpoint Stella’s location with magic and teleport all of her belongings to her. Their discussion was barely about the furniture, he could have said that they were gonna be delivered and hung up the second he saw Octavia. Arguing with Stella is pointless, he’s the number one guy that should know that! Why does he continue to insult her, he’s just fuelling the fire!

Moving out her belongings would have been 10 times faster if he just hung up the phone, then he could have had a more mindful talk with Octavia without the constant bickering of his ex-wife.

But he didn't for some reason, fair enough, I guess. The writers do whatever they want. Anyway, Octavia got angry and ran to go see the stars on her own.

So, Stolas’ castle is in Pride but my point still stands, Octavia had the time to run from home and make the way all from her father's place to the city, find the specific building Blitzø held his organization in and Stolas didn't notice a thing.

You cannot tell me Stella managed to get his attention for that long AND you cannot tell me that his castle is close to the shitty disaffected building and the populace. His daughter ran off and he did not notice a thing.

Not only that but he has the nerve of blaming Blitzø for not watching the book. Like, dude! You should have watched your daughter instead!

Then he spills out more bullshit.

I don’t know Stolas, how could you possibly find her when you were shown to have countless abilities to do so?

Like bubbles projecting the image and locations of people.

Or that on time when you possessed corpses and one woman just to go full eldritch monstrosity just for one that one guy you’re cheating your wife with. And don’t whine about “They don’t love each other.” it’s still affecting his family, mainly his daughter so it’s still bad.

Of course, you do all of that without your grimoire without any problem, brushing it off with a…

I guess he forgot his ‘ways’ when it came to Octavia. But honestly, Loona literally found her easily just by looking at her Instagram account, couldn't he just call her or something? The girl had her phone the whole time and he didn't just think of calling her.

Me when I forget that I have teleportation power when I am in an enclosed space with nobody is looking.

You’re certainly not worrying right now. Via literally told him to his face that she was scared and he kept flirting with him even though he once again caused her to run away because of his neglect.

He’s not trying his best, THIS IS NOT TRYING!

No Loona, his daughter communicated very clearly issues related to their relationship, rather than reassuring her and being there for her as much as it’s realistically possible (he still has duties to carry), he gets in an avoidable petty fight with his ex and keeps an unhealthy dynamics with an imp he's been obsessing over. He doesn't focus, his priorities aren’t straight, and now Octavia feels abandoned.

I did mention that I had a good relationship with my father back then, but it stopped abruptly. His focus changed and he went out with friends after work and gradually stopped spending time with me. Until we never spent time together again, (to give you an idea the only moment where I could see him was in the morning for breakfast) now that can sound silly but I was a child, with no friends and a neglectful mom, losing the only good thing I had in life broke me. I knew his schedule, I knew he was spending time with work buddies and that just stung my self-esteem even more leaving me feeling like a burden when I was just a kid who wanted to feel love.

This is why I don’t like the “He’s trying.” I know what a trying struggling parent looks like and I know what happens when they stop. If you keep trying to do something and you’re constantly failing, either your technique isn’t the right one or you’re not and you’re convincing yourself you are.

And then there are people that’ll tell me that “He lived through the abuse of Stella for years for her.”

If you read all of this then I don’t feel like I need to explain how Octavia was at least partially exposed to Stella's toxic behavior and was affected by it.

For those who don’t know how it feels to live with an erratic mood-swinging person, it’s pure constant stress. You have to think constantly before you talk or move because you know that if you fuck up you’re gonna pay the price. And if you still eventually mess up you can never know with these types of people! You can’t defend yourself because the punishment will be far worse. You are ALWAYS in the wrong.

So he lived through the abuse of Stella just so his daughter could get neglected and abused in a less physical way?

The difference between my parents and Octavia is that they love each other. Stolas doesn't give a damn about Stella, he did say he was nice at first because he empathized with her they were in this shitty situation together, and fine, it's reasonable. But she never changed! Stella stayed the same! Why didn’t he leave her when he stopped carrying about her?! There’s no trauma bounding, Stella isn’t guilt-tripping or manipulating him, they got the child he could have divorced her easily without consequences! If anything, she’s the losing part of this divorce she’s lower in the hierarchy! “Andreaphul will get angry.” HE’S A MARQUIS! Hierarchically speaking Stolas is far more important and he mopes the floor with his peacock ass!

Am I supposed to be empathetic with that one dude who willingly let his daughter grow up in a hyper-toxic environment with an emotionally neglectful and unpredictable wife?! Am I supposed to believe he cares when he kept sleeping in his house in his bed with the same guy his daughter clearly is worried he’s going to leave her with?! Really?!

Don’t ever tell me that this is trying.