#but in some way it feels comforting to know i'm proving so many people wrong and probably making so many transphobes uncomfortable

[chaoticmayocat]

I've finally bit the bullet and got a doctor's appointment up here to try and get an HRT prescription. I'm not backing down on it, even if someone tells me my health issues are a risk. I'm filing my name change over the summer. The world is not getting kinder. My transition will not get easier. There is no surrender if I want to stay honest about myself.

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt.2

pt. 1 pt.3

TW: mention of rape, unprotected sex, drinking, blood, violence, angst

The liquor on his tongue didn’t even burn anymore; too much was already in his system, trying to wash down the events of this day. You were the love of his life, the woman he wanted to marry, even though he didn’t know how it would be legal for you to marry all of them. And now, he lost you. The worst part? He can't even remember how it happened. He felt so disgusted in himself in so many ways—disgusted for breaking your heart. God, your look, how you tried to keep your tears in check, broke him. And then his whole body felt disgusted; it felt like a layer of dirt he couldn’t wash away. He scrubbed and scrubbed, but it didn’t go away; the shame still lingered. It felt like someone had taken something from him, but it was his own fault. He must have said yes and bought those drinks. It was his own fault, he told himself over and over again. Normally, he would talk about this kind of stuff with you; you always knew what to say. But you hated him.

"‚‘nother on’," he said to the barkeeper. This was probably his sixth. Johnny knew how he could handle alcohol; he was never that pissed before to not remember a thing. And there she was, the medic, sitting down next to him.

"Hey, Johnny," she smiled brightly, like she didn’t have any worry in her life.

"I ken a dinnae whit yesterday happened bit tis ne'er aff tae happen again."

"Come on, you enjoyed it yesterday."

"I dinnae remember yesterday."

"What a shame."

He stood up, throwing some pounds on the table, wanting to leave, but she stopped him. "Come on, Johnny. I'll help you forget, make you feel at peace again."

"No."

"Then please, let me invite you for a drink as an apology," she smiled sweetly, pushing the drink towards me. Wait, how had she a drink prepared if she sat only for a minute next to me?

"No."

"Please, a drink won't kill you."

"I said no."

"Just one sip, Johnny, and I'll make you feel good how she never could."

"How come ye're sae persistent fur me tae dram this drink?"

"You're silly, Johnny. I'm just being nice," she looked panicked - weird.

While many people thought of him as someone who is just a silly guy who isn’t able to think properly, you told him all over again that he was so smart, smarter than all of them, if someone would just give him the chance to show. And right now, his brain implanted a sick thought on him. "Dinnae tell me ye put something in mah drink."

Her eyes widened. "Of course not," she mumbled.

"Don't lie to me," his hand immediately went to her throat , choking the truth out of her.

"Knockout drugs," she whispered. She was fighting for air as I let her go; the men in the pub already stood up trying to save the poor woman from getting abused by a man.

"You raped me." His shock hit deep; he always thought something like that wouldn’t happen to him. He was strong and able to protect himself. He was the guy who killed people, the youngest man in the SAS, the guy who beat up an officer because he touched a civi. But now, he was the victim.

"Have fun proving it. No one will believe that a tiny girl like me raped the big bad soldier," she laughed, and screamed for help. "Help, this man doesn’t take no for an answer," He was kicked out of the pub; his face was bloody from all the beating.

All he wanted was to reach you, ask your advice, be in the comfort of your arms, telling him all over again how he is a good man, how he is worth everything and not a dirty soldier. But you didn’t pick up; he came to the realization quickly; that no one would believe him.

**Soap:** Please tell me we used a condom.

**Medic:** ;)

Fuck.

————————————————————————————————-

4 am and you still couldn’t sleep; your head was full of thoughts. Why were you not good enough? Why did he do it? So, you made a thing your friends would kill you for. Calling John, you weren’t sure if he would pick up, but he did.

"What's wrong, love?" Source of habit, he thought.

"Why did you do this, John?" you sobbed.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; it was an accident."

"Then why didn't you say sorry?"

"Love."

"Don't fucking call me love. You cheated on me, and you didn't say sorry. You didn't run after me, you didn't apologize," your sobs broke his heart.

"I'm sorry; it was an accident."

"An accident is making a typo, not sticking your dick in a whore."

"I—"

"I hate you, John. I hate you so much," and you hung up. This wasn’t what you expected. Why doesn’t he feel guilty? Why are you not good enough? Why didn’t Simon say something? Why didn’t Kyle come here? Of course, you broke up, but why don’t they care?

If you only knew how Kyle was, blood-covered in the hospital, too many rookies in his way. How Simon was trying desperately to find Soap to see he didn't drink himself to death, and then he would come to you, he told him self all over again. And how the captain didn't leave his office, not even for food.

And how Soap went into John's office, trying to explain to him the truth, only to see a disarranged office, hands covered in blood after he tried to pick up the liquor he smashed at his wall. He never saw his captain so vulnerable, and if Soap didn’t know better, he would have sworn he saw tears.

"Captain, I—"

"You did already enough, MacTavish. Let me have at least one day to mourn over the loss of the love of my fucking life."

"Captain—"

"LEAVE," and he did, he crawled into his bed, knowing he lost everything in a day, the love of his life, his best friend Kyle, his captain, his pride, and safety, and not even Ghost was there.

[babyleostuff]

your smile | JEON WONWOO

summary | reading date with wonwoo in the comfort of your shared apartment

genre | fluff

word count | 871

pairing | jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

"What should we listen to?" Wonwoo asked right as you walked into the living room with a book in your hand.

"Whatever you feel like. I chose last time." A moment later soft tunes of your favorite album started playing, and along with the LED lights and a couple of candles it only added to the cozy feeling your shared apartment had.

This little act of your boyfriend - putting the music he knows you like, even though it's his turn to choose, puts a small smile on your face, making you even happier than you already were.

Having an afternoon for yourselves, not worrying about work or any chores, you both decided to have a stay at home date, with food and books.

Wonwoo already had his gaming live today at the company, so you didn't have to worry about your boyfriend bailing on you mid chapter and gaming his ass off until dawn, which was always a nice thing.

"Do we have everything?" he wondered, taking a seat next to you on the big sofa, which was now covered with fluffy blankets and lots of pillows.

"I'm just going to grab something to drink, so we don't have to get up later. Oh, and we need chopsticks. Anything else?"

"I don't think so,"

"Okay, I'll be right back."

As much as you loved going out with Wonwoo, exploring the city, going to nice restaurants or simply taking a casual stroll by the Han river, nothing would ever top your at home dates.

Being both so comfortable with each other - no fancy clothes, no makeup, no pressure to look your best and no stressing about being recognised by other people. You could savor the comfortable silence, each with a separate book and your feet in his lap.

A barefaced Wonwoo with his glasses and an oversized t-shirt was just a bonus to all of this. He's really the definition of boyfriend material.

While in the kitchen, beside drinks and chopsticks you grabbed extra snacks for Wonwoo, as he always likes to have something to munch on while reading. In addition you also grabbed an apple juice box, one of the many sitting in your refrigerator.

Quickly making your way back to the living room, you couldn't help, but admire your boyfriend for a second. He was sitting comfortably under one of the many blankets, his glasses at the tip of his nose while he was smiling at something on his phone.

Seeing him so happy was like a cup of tea on a winter morning. Without a doubt, him smiling was the best thing in the world and seeing him do it so often in these past months was the biggest dream come true.

He is one of the strongest people you know, but even he couldn't always hide his sadness and pain, so seeing him getting his happiness back is everything you could've asked for.

"Everything alright?" suddenly you were pulled back to reality, by Wonwoo's gentle voice, that so often lulled you to sleep.

"Yeah, just zoned out a little. Here, your gummies," you handed him all of his snacks along with a water bottle and a set of chopsticks.

"When did you get them? They weren't there in the morning."

"I saw you eating them in your live today," you explained. "So, I decided to buy some. You always like to snack when you're reading and gaming."

Wonwoo usually saw himself as a very stoic person, who was good at controlling his emotions, but you always proved him wrong.

His gaze turned to the softest expression known to mankind and he couldn't help himself but kiss the side of your head in a loving manner as a thank you.

Not being able to resist your boyfriend's sweet action, you put your hand at the back of his head, running your fingers through his short hair, that made him look so adorable when not styled.

"How much of the book do you have left?" he asked, as you both snuggled under the warm blankets.

"I think I'll finish tonight."

"Will your next book be a little bit more, how to say, intellectual?"

"Jeon Woonwoo, stop making fun of my book," you laughed and hit his arm repeatedly, though you doubted he felt anything.

"Not my fault my childhood was based on Wattpad, you dumbass." He laughed and shook his head in a playful manner.

"Sorry not everyone can be as smart as you, Mr. I-know-it-all. " you huffed, putting your bookmark at the coffee table. Not saying anything more, he simply put his arm around you, pulling you closer to his side.

Moments like these made you feel so safe and loved. Wonwoo may not be the most outspoken person when it comes to his emotions, but he never made you doubt yourself in any way.

Everywhere you went, you knew you could always count on him, he was there to keep you safe, protected and happy. The simple touches and small acts of service was all you needed.

So, as you both sit in the living room, each of you in a different fictional world, keeping each other warm, you knew that this was how you'd like to spend the rest of your life.

[shirefantasies]

Hello! I would like to request a little prompt if you'd want to do it. Kili/Reader where Kili is insecure about not looking "dwarfish" enough; hard time growing a beard, and being seen as too young for stuff. The reader has to comfort him, maybe with some hair braiding and fluff. I just wanna see my little boy getting the love he deserves. If you'd be comfortable with it could the reader be male presenting, otherwise gender-neutral is cool too. Hope you have a good day :)

Bro sorry this is so late but hope you enjoy friend 🥰

Warnings: one suggestive joke

See Me- Kili x GN!Reader

Sometimes it simply shocked you how beautiful Kili was. Your One, the apple of your eye, he whose smile alone lit up your eyes like the whole of the stars. The way his long black locks tumbled effortlessly over his shoulders. Looks of focus that overcame his handsome features as he took a shot or when he attempted whittling.

It would have never occurred to you to think he'd never be enough. In fact, you had to suppress a laugh when he first expressed this concern, not out of finding his struggles humorous but simply a sound of pure incredulity, the same reaction you'd have had to as blatant a lie as someone telling you the sky was green.

Kili had been sitting by your side on watch, only you two awake for the chill wind of the night as the rest of the company stayed wrapped up in their bedrolls. Wistful in the breeze, he'd been thanking you for caring about him so much as he leaned back on his log, one leg crossed over the other and one hand fidgeting with the edge of his boot to match the nervous downward shift of his gaze.

"It's hard sometimes being the extra brother, you know? The one the future king's always standing up for."

"You are one of the strongest people I know," you gaped, "And I have no doubt you would do the same for him. And what is this of being the spare brother? Fili and you are nothing alike. Both of you are blessings to your family. Both of you are kind, strong, and selfless, yes, but you are bright and daring and dare I say fun in a way that he is not. There is no comparison."

"That's just it, I guess. Being the fun one doesn't help them always thinking I'm still a kid," he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Fireglow flickered around his handsome profile, illuminating the vulnerable shine in those deep brown eyes you so loved. For once, all the confidence, the bravado he was always able to summon in the company's presence, had melted away. Kili was no child, but you could see the helpless boy within making his slight emergence. No matter, though. Who could see this dwarf man, this one who made you feel so strong and so safe and made jokes that never failed to flare warmth beneath your skin, and see a boy?

"Your mother?" You asked, leaning closer and resting your hand upon his arm.

"Everyone," he shrugged, looking up and giving a small smile to your contact, "They tell me I'm tall for my age or ask what is wrong with me that I haven't a full beard. They see my brother, proud and golden-haired with those great dangling braids and say there goes the future king. Then comes me, the princeling who gets to have fun, the one lucky to live in so many great leaders' shadow."

"I love my brother," he hastily amended, waving his hands, "None of it is his fault and I do not want his life, his possible throne. Moreso it's the way they expect me not to care, not to have a bother in this world. So I guess I grew into giving them what they want. Acting like just that. Suppose that's part of why I rush into things so. Some part of me hoping I'll prove myself this time. Make up for the times Fili had to rush to my defense from some bully picking on me before I vowed to show them."

As Kili's words trailed off, you shook your head, eyes still shining into his with purest disbelief. "If only you could see what I see. See not only your beauty, but your heart. A beard doesn't make a man, after all, a heart does. And yours is bold, resilient, and would do anything for those it loves. In turn it loves freely and acts courageously, even when the world would have it falter."

A smile crept its way back onto Kili's lips at your words, his dark gaze going a bit bashful. Firelight overtook more of it as he shyly swiveled back away.

"A real man defends those he cares about and those who cannot defend themselves. He knows who he is and fights just as strongly for that. Just like you when you stood up to those imbeciles who mocked your archery and became an expert with a bow. When I look to what being a man means, Kili, I look to you. Now come here. Turn around."

Looking a bit puzzled, Kili obliged, rotating in his seat to face totally away from you, that flickering glow glistening off the long black locks that now faced you. You ran a hand through them, relishing in their softness despite the bristling pine needles that fell from them and dirt that had surely caught there. Running your fingers again and again, you combed carefully through it all.

"You take such good care of us. Of your mother, who gifted you a beautiful promise to return to her arms. Now let me care for you."

Wordlessly he nodded, melting into your touch as your fingers caressed his scalp, running through his hair one final time before you began separating the flowing locks and braiding them.

"Great dangling braids, you say? Great dangling braids you shall have, and I daresay they'll be more than a mite longer than Fili's."

"Not the only thing of mine longer than his," Kili shoots back, turning his head enough to give you a wink.

Smiling and giggling, you swatted his shoulder and shook your head. Deflection or not, your heart was warmed for the return of Kili's humor. You would do anything it took, you reflected as your hands worked at weaving his hair, to keep his smile present. After all, you knew he would always do the same.

Your rock, your strength, your heart, your One. Words you spoke to him over and over that night until they stuck, and if they never did, well, you would be right there to speak them again. To be Kili's eyes and see him for all the beautiful things that he was.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart@kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 @mistresskayla-blog1@misabelle717@h0n3y-l3m0n05 @evattude | Reply/Message/Ask to join 💕

[that1geek06]

Hi, how are you? Could you write Harry Hook and male reader? The reader is Audrey's brother and super shy, and he meets Harry when the group of VKs went to save Ben.

HOWDY THERE, I'm alright thank you for asking :D I hope your doing good as well, but I can DEFINITELY do this, I'm so happy that my descendents work has been liked by the fandom and its time for the FIRST ROMANTIC FIC YAYYY so I apologize if its not amazing, lmk if there's anything I can do betterr

-SEEN-

Harry Hook x Male!Reader

Warnings: None (lmk if that's wrong)

Audrey Rose, the most popular and recognizable child of Aurora and Phillip. But not many people know or realize that she has a twin brother, Y/N.

He doesn't blame people for not knowing his lineage, he was the complete opposite of his sister. He preferred comfort over style, singularity instead of popularity, and quiet rather than loud. The only one Y/N really talked to was Ben, who would often hang out with the twin when he courted his sister. But even when the VK'S came and he got with Mal, Ben still showed his friendship and even introduced him to the darker group.

And Y/N loved the VK'S.

They just didn't care, and he admired that, without having to talk to much he became close to the small group. They almost took him under their wing and looked out for him. Basically, he never had any issues with Chad once the VK'S started hanging out with him.

So when he heard about Mal running back to the isle and the plan to get her back. He begged to go along. Ben disagreed at first but with some convincing Y/N was allowed to go with.

He had never been so excited for something before, as Evie dressed him and Ben up the clothes felt so nice, the darker tones of red and grey felt suiting, she even made his outfit to be incorporated as a hoodie which he loved.

And then finally they were off.

Ben was very nervous about being there, but with some guidance from Evie, Jay, and Carlos, they got the ways down quite quickly.

They finally made it to Mal's hideout, and Ben went up to talk to her. Y/N waiting for him to return at the bottom of the steps with the others. Though the stomping of his footsteps proved their conversation didn't go to well.

"She's not coming." Ben said annoyed and stomped off through the streets. The others paced and tried to get the attention of Mal. But Y/N ran off to catch up with Ben.

After a small jog he's back at his side, "T-try not to worry to much Ben. Mal's going through a lot, I'm sure she'll come around here soon." He said in a soft tone, trying to comfort the soon to be king.

But Ben just sighs and shakes his head, "I doubt she will, I pushed her to far.."

The two turn a corner, when suddenly they see 2 other shadows, with a low chuckle one spoke. "Well ain't this just perfect, Uma will be please with this catch. A king and a prince, aye now that's somthin' special."

They step into the light, the taller one had a kind smile on his face surprisingly, his eyes set on Ben. "I knew I recognized you Ben! My dad wishes yours would rot in the underworld by the way." Y/N was confused by the guys happiness, and turned to look at the one the spoke earlier, only to find his eyes already on him.

The boy in the red coat smirked, twirling the handheld hook in his hand. "That you did Lad. Now, lets get this crown an' beauty to Uma." And then everything went black. But Y/N wasn't scared, he only thought one thing.

Did that VK really recognize him?

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

Y/N slowly opens his eyes, the smell of salt water stinging his nose. He squinted and looked around, eyes adjusting to the light, he tries to move, but he finds himself tied up to a pole.

A light chuckle makes him look up, "Welcome back sleepin' beauty, sorry ya didn't geta kiss like your mum." The boy from earlier smirked, but instead of feeling threatened, Y/N's heart skipped a beat, cheeks turn a light shade of red.

"...w-who are you?" He asks in a small voice, earning a large smile from the other boy. "How rude of me, tha names Harry, and I'm sure this piece o' metal can help ya fill in the rest." He answers, twirling it around once again.

He just nods, putting together he was Captain Hooks son. "Your a quiet one aint ya. Never really talkin' much at those fancy meetings up there." Harry comments, a teasing smirk on his face as he looks him up and down.

Y/N's eyes widened at that, "You've.. noticed me? You know who I am?" He asks in such a quiet voice it was barely a whisper. And he watches as Harry's face falls for a second. He goes to answer when Ben starts to wake up. And that crazed facade comes back as he turns his attention onto the young king.

After a few minutes though the other boy who helped capture him who he learned to be Gil announced Mal and the groups arrival. They had actually brought the wand. But when she pretended to use it on dude, Y/N knew that something wasn't right.

But Uma believed it.

Harry cuts the ropes off of Ben and Y/N, complaining about how his fun was ruined, though it felt almost as if his touched lingered a little longer than normal when he cut the ropes off of Y/N.

Then Mal and Uma trade, and the two royals were back with their group.

Mal starts trying to rush Ben away as Uma attempts to use the wand, and like he suspected, it didn't work. And then a big fight breaks lose.

Y/N fights, but nothing to harm anyone, he couldn't do any such thing. Finally they get space between them and the pirates and are getting ready to make an escape, until-

"BEAUTY!!" Y/N hears Harry yell, he looks back and makes eye contact with him, the pirate smirks, still dripping wet from grabbing his hook out of the water, clothes clinging to his body.

"I always noticed ya!" He yells again, answering Y/N's question from before.

He felt is face flare up and his heart drop as he stare into the other boys eyes. Only for the contact to be broken by Jay pulling him to follow out.

In a daze Y/N followed, mind and heart hooked on the pirate that had noticed him..

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

YAYY I loved this sm I hope you do tooo, and anon I hope this makes your day dreams a little easier to imagine <3

-Also, if anyone's interested, I'd be willing to make this a part two?? Tell me if I shouldd-

Lmk if there's anything I can do to improve I welcome any and all help, also, PAUSE. RN. GET A SNACK. Reading is so fun on a full stomach, but anyways, HAVE A GOOD DAY/NIGHT MY GOOBERS, happy readingg 👾

[ftmtftm]

This isn't something I have fully articulated thoughts on yet but honestly? I really do think that transandrophobia and the way people who talk about their experiences with it are isolated is, in part, why transmedicalism existed (exists still? I'm very detached from that discourse now) as a primarily trans man/trans masc dominated ideology.

I'm going to share my own experience and I can only speak for myself here, but when I was a really isolated late teen/early 20-something dealing with a lot of unresolved trauma re: my assault (that happened as a result of me coming out as trans to an ex), some immediate family's reaction to my transition being "well why can't you just be a masculine woman", and frustration about not being able to medically transition yet combined with the mid-2010's pressure to be a non-threatening feminine soft boy, I got sucked into transmedicalism.

I do want to be upfront and recognize a lot of my feelings at the time were a trauma response and projection. I recognize this now but I had no resources to recognize that then. I just want to make it clear from the start that I know my own thinking was flawed, that's why I'm reflecting on it openly so others can potentially recognize something that resonates here within themselves and grow.

Getting back into it though- I felt really triggered all the time in general trans spaces because of that 2010's culture. I felt pressured to be feminine or a woman in trans spaces online, just like I did around my ex or at home. I didn't want to undercut my masculinity or manhood for other people's comfort, especially not for other trans people who I felt should've understood. In contrast to this though, transmedicalist spaces and the trans men within them DID actually offer the support I was asking for. I was actually given space to talk about my assault and the pressures I was experiencing with a bunch of other trans men/trans mascs who understood it for the first time, ever really.

The idea of "there is a medical explanation for gender dysphoria that can be treated with medical transition" was also really comforting to my traumatized mind that kept thinking "if I'm open about my assault someone is going to accuse me of just being traumatized and not actually trans, if medicine is on my side I can prove them wrong" Which - let me be clear again - was a very traumatized way of thinking. I do not think that way anymore thanks to therapy and cultivating a healthier relationship with my body and gender and transness. I was not the only trans man with a history of assault that felt this way in the transmed community at the time though.

And I'm not justifying any of this ideologically right? Like. Transmedicalism is fundamentally flawed and incorrect in many of its ideas about sex, gender, and gender identity. Many people who believe in transmed ideology spout some absolutely horrible, transphobic bullshit on the regular and often align their ideology with conservatism and TERFs. I'm not here to defend transmedicalism.

What I am saying is this: It makes sense that a group of ostracized individuals who felt like they had no space to express their traumas would cling onto transmedicalism because it was the only ideological community giving them space to talk about it. Hate movements thrive on preying upon those kinds of vulnerable, traumatized people.

I'm just thinking about a lot of the friends I met via transmedicalism back then and now they're all either TERFs with a lot of repressed trauma and internalized transphobia that I've since cut off completely or they had a similar realization to myself and discovered their attachment to transmedicalism was rooted in trauma and a desire for trans masc community, addressed it, and now they live much healthier, happier lives.

I'm losing steam fast thinking about all of this because recounting trauma takes a physical toll on one's body BUT tl;dr I really do think if we had healthier spaces to address trans male/trans masculine traumas within the wider trans community via conversations about transandrophobia back 5+ years ago we wouldn't fully be here now wrt: how large transmedicalism became as a movement. I genuinely think I wouldn't have been sucked into that space if there had been more resources and space to talk about the experiences I was having, all of which are things people naming transandrophobia are trying to address in healthy manners.

I think healthy, open, conversations about transandrophobia in wider community spaces can do so much good to protect people who were in vulnerable positions like I was and can absolutely potentially prevent more people from getting sucked into the false support offered by hate movements within our own community.

[simplydnp]

honestly I was thinking the same as you RE rebrand but it did seem weird that he just said "here at dan and phil" and not "dan and phil games" idk maybe I'm reading too much into it lol but the obviously scripted that whole thing so it could've been a deliberate hint? and obviously the glitching like it's disappearing?

oh anon you've opened a can of worms

to me, the way dan said 'here at dan and phil' came across more like poking fun at it rather than it happening.

many months ago i had discussions about if dapg would rebrand, and i said dan would rather die than rebrand to 'dan and phil' because it comes with different expectations. it reads like a family vlogger channel name. it loses the 'games' plausible deniability that they sit so comfortably in. it's a big step to shed it. the audience knows that they're in for low-effort games with more of a focus on banting on dapg. even if most of what we want is to put dnp in a situation and go from there. specifically changing to 'dan and phil' would feel almost more invasive--like it's inviting that--and i don't think either of them want that. they're happy to do domestic content when it suits them--on dapg or phil's channel--without it becoming what they are and what's expected of them.

nora also brought up that it's a big commitment, especially for dan. a years long kind of thing. and i'd argue that's not even far enough. once they go fully 'dan and phil', there's no going back. there's no pretending it didn't happen, there's no undo, there's no hiding what it means. when people refer to it, it will no longer be their gaming channel, but their joint lifestyle channel. i genuinely don't know if they're ready for that, or if they even want it. it would also be a pain to refer to, for both them and us. they could say 'our channel' sure, but how do we refer to it? the dnp channel? like it's some tv channel 😂 dap? where we have to learn a cool handshake? their joint channel? i'm sure you see the issues here.

further into the logistics--they'd need new logos and banners and such, but the two of them have really stuck to classic youtuber formulas, especially with their intros. the gaming channel intro is iconic, to the point phil's done it on his own channel before by accident. so what happens to it? phil opens every video saying 'hello dan and phil'? what happens to the traditions that we just got back? it's not to say they can Never play games again but it would feel so strange. especially with how casual they've been about other content appearing on the channel. i ask, what would be the point?

to me, a rebrand would signal a change. a big one, too. it's more than shaking up the status quo by reviving a channel and allowing different types of content to appear on it. it's not impossible, especially with the way they've been teasing the upcoming project. but i don't think it's likely. i don't think it's what we've been 'manifesting'.

but prove me wrong! i will gladly eat my words. i just want them happy. and if it is a rebrand i'll still be excited

[jeannineee]

I'm loving the hc so much I just have to request one more. The batboys' reaction to the reader using a safe word- Will they be too heartbroken about hurting you to even think or will they take care of you first and then fall apart?

Safewording with the Batboys…

angst, nsfw under the cut (18+ please)

Rhysand

He would feel so, so, so guilty.

He’s had bad experiences with sex (Amarantha), so he would take it really hard.

Obviously, he would ensure your safety and comfort first and foremost.

Once he was certain you were okay, he’d get very quiet, contemplating.

He’d wonder if you were mad at him.

But he wouldn’t say anything, wanting nothing more than to ensure that you’re okay.

Honestly, he’d probably need a lot of reassurance that you’re fine. And even if you reassured him, he’d still be so scared that he’s broken your trust.

So you’d reassure him that he didn’t lose your trust, and that the safe word is there to keep either of you from going too far.

Then you’d both hold each other all night :( Rhys probably wouldn’t get much sleep

Cassian

He’d freeze the moment the word left your mouth.

He fired a hundred questions at you.

“Are you okay?” “What’s wrong?” “Did I hurt you?”

Every other word out of his mouth would be an apology, even after the two of you talked through what went wrong.

If you were comfortable with it, he’d help you clean you up.

He’d give you a bath, massage your sore skin, help you dress into comfortable clothes, all the while apologizing endlessly.

One of his biggest fears is hurting you, so this would hit him very hard.

So many people see him as a “brute,” to the point that he sometimes sees himself that way. So he’d think this just proves that nickname right.

Azriel

Stops what he’s doing the second you say the safe word/do your safe action

If you’re in restraints, gagged, etc, he removes them immediately.

Feels a literal pit of dread in his stomach

He’ll hold you in his arms, murmuring apologies and words of comfort.

The two of you talk about what went wrong, and Azriel remains attentive, but like our other two batboys, he feels so guilty.

He’d spend the entire night thinking about what he did, even after you reminded him that you’re okay.

I think it would make him shy away from sex for a while, for fear of hurting/scaring you again.

We know Azzie can be insecure sometimes, so he would need some reassurance.

[violetasteracademic]

I am going to say something for my Elriels that I hope can be absorbed with grace and compassion. I realize not everyone may agree, and I do not speak for all survivors. But I am speaking from the perspective of someone who has received over 19 years of intensive therapy (yes, I started at 14. Feel free to calculate my age) as well as EMDR to treat complex PTSD. I hope you can hear this and take it to heart, and understand that *both sides* are contributing to some of us considering whether or not we should permanently leave this fandom to protect ourselves. If your interest is protecting survivors, I hope you will hear this with nothing but love and care in my heart and wanting this to be a better place for everyone and feel open to what I would like to say.

If you are taking this opportunity to re-blog and make a public spectacle of how badly the other side is behaving- you are not protecting survivors. Limiting exposure is a critical tool for those with PTSD. Stepping away from areas where we cannot prevent exposure to traumatic or triggering environments does not make us weak. It makes us strong. It makes us capable of making hard decisions and reflecting inward, and walking away from things that cause harm even when our inner child wants to feel drawn towards it and resolve it. These are not easy decisions. Right now, I want to stay away because of how everyone is acting, not just those on certain sides. The exposure to triggers is frankly beyond anything I could have ever imagined happening joining this fandom.

The spectacle is harmful for those that you are trying to protect. I beg you to consider this in the coming days as you decide what type of contributions you want to make to the Elriel community. At this point, I have so many people blocked, but it doesn't matter. I am still being exposed to how traumatizing this fandom is because the Elriel community will not stop. I promise you, starving harassers of the attention they so desperately want is the only thing that will have any meaningful impact to improve the environment. You are never going to understand each other or see things the same way. Please consider if re-blogging harmful takes just to prove a point is an act of protection, or an act of judgement and escalation.

If you are taking this opportunity to engage in a war of morality, and decide that the *other side* has behaved badly enough that they finally *deserve* to be harassed or insulted, you are not protecting survivors. I know it sucks. I know it's unfair. I know the high road is comprised of more steps. But the reality is, there are people with completely different moral codes opposing each other here. You will never be able to show another person why their deeply held beliefs are wrong. Some felt that protecting DV victims was a violation of their personal rights. We all understand how wrong that is. But instead of trying to turn this into a battle of whose behavior is worse, and who deserves what treatment, the best way to protect survivors is to say: I'm so sorry this is happening. I know how triggering this must be. Let me focus on making this a safe space for you. Invoking verbal abuse or escalating an aggressive conflict in our name does not help us. It only makes this space more unsafe. The simple act of, "I said this to you and I treated you badly because you acted badly first" is in of itself triggering behavior. If you look for reasons to treat someone you don't like or respect poorly, you will surely find them.

Please know that my only goal here is safety for all. It can be difficult to make everyone feel comfortable. I have long since realized that fandom life may not be for me, and have repeatedly left group chats, tiktok, and Instagram because I personally hate watching women rip each other to shreds every day when these books were a place of respite for me. So maybe I'm in the wrong. Maybe I don't *get* fandom culture, and if that's the case, I can gracefully step away or set new boundaries with myself about what I contribute and how involved I am regularly. No one is required to change their behavior because of me, or because of anyone. We are only in charge of ourselves. But this felt worth saying.

I truly hope that the goal of fostering a community that feels good to be a part of, even if it comes at the sacrifice of "fighting back," because no one is actually winning at anything here, is something that feels worthy of acknowledgment. I hope everyone can consider before typing, re-blogging, screenshotting, fighting, ect., pausing, reflecting and asking- does my behavior hurt or harm survivors? Am I making this space safer or more harmful for them? Is this a space I'd want to look at and make art for every day if I was trying to avoid landmines of watching how people treat each other? *If* protecting survivors and making things safer is your goal of course. That will not be the priority for everyone. But then please be honest with yourself about what you are trying to accomplish.

I always considered the Elriel space safe and joyful and a place largely not centered around bashing and negativity (though of course there are always exceptions, and I think venting is perfectly natural so long as it's not done with malicious intent to hurt others) but this situation made me realize that both sides are standing with loaded guns, just waiting for the opportunity for the other side to do something bad enough to trigger a war.

We are the collateral damage.

I hope that maybe this can move the Elriel community back in the direction of focusing on kindness, positivity, and excitement. If that is not the case, I hear you. Perhaps I'm the one that doesn't fit, and that's okay. But it felt worth trying.

[zirobitches]

One Piece: Soulmate AU

Always in this twilight - Crocodile x GN!Reader

Summary: Soulmates are incapable of hurting each other. As a pirate, this leads to some tragic moments midst battles. You thought you were prepared for when it might happen to you, but damn you were wrong.

Gn! Reader, Angst no comfort, no beta we die like Roger, Reader is Croc's First Mate and a former Roger pirate (Shanks/Buggy's age) but it doesnt really matter, also former slave background, congrats you are now in the place of my self insert OC, no promises on not being cringe this is literally a /reader fic, also had to make a fake crew bc we dont know enough crocs backstory HAND IT OVER ODA

Word count: 4500+

Also first fic on tumblr, idk what im doing here, lmk ur opinions. It is now 2:03am and i have class at 10:30. Might have to skip lmao

EDITS: grammar check lol. also cross posted it on ao3 - same name as my blog

-----------

Soulmates weren't as common as you'd might assume when you first hear about it. There's an easy way to prove someone is your soulmate, but when that method is to harm them, well, it doesn't make it easy to find that person. And society gets a bit weird when you know your soulmate is out there.

you've known that some people carry around little needles to poke into strangers hoping to find the one. But that was in decent society; among pirates you more often heard tales of bullets suddenly dropping to the ground after they hit their target, or swords stopping on someone's skin as though it just hit steel. A battlefield is a hell of a place to meet the person fate had decided for you, but for pirates it had become a norm.

Not that long ago, some genius named Vegapunk did a study on how many people meet their soulmate - 1 in a 100. And that's just how many people find them. It never accounts for how many actually happily end up together. You had chosen to live your life as a pirate, so a happy ending with your supposed soulmate wasn't something you foresaw in your future.

You were always grateful most of your current crew felt the same. There was a small group among pirates that were always on the lookout to find their soulmate and then immediately retire. Your crew however like to joke that if they found them in battle, they would move out of the way so someone else could finish them off. It was a grim reality, but it was your reality.

However, on nights like these where you drank the night away, some romantic always had to bring it up.

"C'mon, did old Roger really make you so cold hearted that you don't believe in true love?"

"Pfft, you're fucking joking right?" You scoffed back. You always argued with Tink about this, but you understood your young navigator still had hope. Too bad you were the pessimist of the crew.

"It's not that I don't believe in true love," you continued. "Soulmates are real, I don't really see another explanation for not being able to harm only one other person in the world. But why limit yourself to waiting for a person you might never meet? So many are denying themselves to fall in love with someone else and then end up dying alone because they never found their soulmate."

Tink pouted in front of you. This was a tired conversation, one that was repeated every few weeks much to the chagrin of your other crewmates. But a controversial topic was always a great topic for a group such as yourselves.

"I'm not denying myself the chance to fall in love! I'm denying ever feeling heartbroken over someone who doesn't matter!" Tink tried to argue back, but you just groaned in response.

"And if you never meet the one? You'll just live and die without ever letting yourself even get a taste of what it is you're chasing." Tink glared, knowing it was futile to keep going, but the pink of her cheeks told you that the grog in her system was trying to get her to keep fighting.

It was then that a familiar tall figure caught your eye. There was your beloved captain Crocodile, trying to sneak behind everyone's back to grab another bottle for himself.

Crocodile was never much one for festivities, at least not one 'undeserved' as he might put it. While there was no battle won to celebrate, the night sky was clear and the waters calm; in the Grand Line, shouldn't that be enough to be happy about?

However tonight you weren't going to let him sneak booze and hide from the crew.

"Cap'n!" Apparently the grog was getting to you as well. "Come over here and help me crush Tink's dream of a soulmate!" You laughed as Tink gasped at your audacity. The rest of your company seemed more or less happy with how the night was going, but your captain was still less than enthused to join.

"If this is the same soulmate debate you've been going on about for the past 3 years, I will pass again. You already know my feelings on the matter." Crocodile's deep voice reverberated across the deck of the ship. Even if he wasn't giving orders, he still commanded the attention of everyone within earshot.

He gave a long drag of the bottle in his hand, and then turned to walk away. However you felt it was your duty as first mate to pester your captain into spending casual time with his crew.

"I may know your opinion, but would you be so kind and gracious to remind the rest of the crew? Perhaps?" You called out to the dark coat trying to run from the party, and saw him pause, then turn to walk back.

You could see some of the newer additions to the crew cower. You didn't blame them, Crocodile was an imposing figure, and was developing a infamous reputation as a pirate on the Grand Line. But he was your captain, and he would never hurt his crew, this you knew.

"If I ever met my soulmate," Crocodile began, "I assume it would be when I attempt to kill them." He took another sip from his bottle. This was one of the rare moments he was not puffing a cigar you suddenly realize. It made his face look younger, as though he was actually a man in his 20s as he claimed he was.

As though he knew you were thinking of him, Crocodile made eye contact with you. "When I realize I can't kill them, I'll call out for you." You felt your heart skip a beat. "Then you can finish them for me."

It was purely the grog's fault for making your face warm. The lack of a sea breeze was also suddenly apparent. But you couldn't be flustered, not when you were the one who asked for this answer.

You smiled, doing your best to brush off the tension. You were still maintaining eye contact with him after all. "Well there you have it. Not exactly the opinion I remember, but I hope I can live up to your expectations, Cap'n."

Crocodile nodded, then told you all to start to sober up or get to bed. "I don't need a crew of drunks on the Grand Line, or else we will never make it to the New World."

Your crew began to disperse and you went below deck to your cabin. You really hadn't had much to drink that night, yet your chest felt tight.

You thought you had learned your lesson, but no. Even after promising yourself you wouldn't, you became attached to your crew. Even after your last one fell apart. Even after you watched your first captain, your savior, be executed, you fucked up and dove straight into a different crew expecting it to be different.

You laid down in your bed, staring at the ceiling, the world slightly spinning. Suddenly all you can think about is when you met Croc.

-

It was little more than 3 years ago now, wasn't it? A whole 3 years since Roger died. The weight is still heavy in your chest, but not nearly as devastating as it was in Logue Town that day. You were a wreck, physically and emotionally.

After watching the execution, you were too heartbroken to join the others in pursuit of the One Piece. Your world has just officially ended, the crew was technically already disbanded, but now there was no hope of getting it back.

You ended up in some local bar. No one recognized you, and in the haze of all the excitement following Roger's death, why would they? You had just been some nobody apprentice who happened to stick on his ship after Roger saved your life.

But your sorrow did catch someone's eye.

You sat at the counter of this dive bar in Logue Town, mindlessly stirring whatever number drink sat in front of you now. You had run out of tears, and sat stuck in some frozen state of grief.

However, this sad portrait of yourself did not seem to deter someone from sitting next to you.

You paid them no mind, just staring into empty space, not enough energy to even remember you were still alive.

"You were a member of the Pirate King's crew weren't you?"

A deep voice rattled from the stranger, but it was his words that really caught your attention.

"How'd you figure?" You had paused your stirring at first, but now focused on your drink to avoid eye contact. You were a mess, you could feel your puffy eyes, and were still sniffling every so often.

"There's no reason anyone in this town should be sad that someone like him died. So, you must have known him, right?" The deep voice continued, and you could feel their eyes staring, but didn't have the strength to meet them.

"Well, you caught me. Going to take me in and see if you can get a reward? I'm afraid you won't find any posters of me though. I tended to get lost in the crowd, you could say." After that statement you finally grasped the glass in front of you and decided to knock back what was left. If this was the end of your little pirating career, so be it. It can die with Roger.

"Will you join my crew?"

Your head snapped up at that, and you finally looked up at the stranger.

Long black hair was slicked back to show all the sharp features of the man's face. A strong square jaw, a prominent, perfect nose, and pale, piercing eyes, hooded by thin black eyebrows. Undoubtedly, even in your drunken haze, you were sure sober you would agree the man was handsome.

After a moment to take in this stranger all you could manage was a "Excuse me?"

He smiled - no, smirked - and pulled a cigar out from his coat. "I could use someone with your experience on my crew." He carried on, as if you were discussing the weather outside. He lit the cigar with a lighter you hadn't noticed him pull out. Perhaps it was the booze, but looking at this guy, he almost seemed… fuzzy, around the edges.

"Having someone who once worked for the Pirate King should help me become the next Pirate King."

The stranger took a long drag from his cigar, then exhaled over the counter. You didn't know where the barkeep was now, but at the moment, it felt like you and him were the only people in the building.

You should be mad. Enraged at the audacity of someone to come up to you on the worst day of your life, and to ask you to work for them. But you felt nothing.

No. That wasn't right. You did feel something.

You chuckled. Giggled even. A small laugh that built up till you were laughing, nearly hysterically. You hadn't felt like this sort of light headed elation in a long time, and it was nice.

After taking a moment to catch your breath you finally looked back at the stranger. He didn't look upset at your reaction. He just kept smoking his cigar, waiting for an answer.

"I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"I am Sir Crocodile, captain of the Neverland Pirates."

"Hmmm. Well, Sir Crocodile, I can tell you now that you have no chance of being Pirate King." You smirked back at him, propping your head up on your hand as you leaned against the counter.

This response still didn't bother the man. If anything, you swore he almost seemed… satisfied by your answer. Perhaps he knows what's coming next.

"I can help you out on the Grand Line and maybe help you get to the New World, but I promise," you leaned in towards this captain, staring him down. "You will never be the man Roger was. No one will."

Yet Crocodile was unperturbed.

"So you'll join my crew?"

You leaned back and reassessed your empty glass. You cast a quick glance at the bar and then back at the other pirate.

"Sure. I don't have anything better to do anyways."

-

You thought back in Logue Town you could never feel the same way about Crocodile's crew that you felt with Roger's, but you were always the fool. Now you are attached.

Now you need a reason to leave.

You couldn't waste your time or your heart with them. You had already died once with Roger, and if you stayed any longer you know you could never leave alive. You got up from bed - still plenty tipsy you swayed over - to your dresser.

Middle drawer, back left, underneath some no longer worn t-shirts was a small box. You opened it.

There were several small scraps of paper. Vivre cards.

As a child on Roger's boat, you were ecstatic to learn about vivre cards. A simple way to know the people you loved were alive and safe, and be able to find their exact location? It was too good to be true.

When you remember the feeling of Roger's paper burning in your hands at his execution, you knew the reality of vivre cards.

Your fingertips gently sorted through the papers you had made for some of Roger's crew. Each had a tiny name written in a corner. Shanks, Buggy, Ray, Gaban, Oden, and a few others of people who had been most important to you.

Maybe you could leave this crew and seek out the others. Rayleigh had always said he would retire at Sabaody, and your crew was bound to get there soon, hopefully in a couple months. The ache in your chest; you missed your old family. This could be the excuse you needed.

With a heavy sigh you closed the box and hid it away again. Sleeping on it would be good. Sleeping away the booze would also be nice.

Maybe then the tears would stop silently slipping down your face.

-

It turns out the excuse of seeing your old crew was unneeded. The news coo was kind enough to drop a reason to leave directly in your lap.

You stared at the newspaper for a long moment. The sinking feeling in your gut still did not go away.

You walked up to the bow where Crocodile was standing. He stared at the horizon as you approached the next island, Water 7.

"Captain."

Crocodile turned to look at you, face neutral, signature cigar in his mouth.

"Morning. The news any good?"

"They want to make you a Warlord."

Your own feelings were swept under the rug as your crewmates overheard. Instantly the deck was buzzing, the news spreading and making the once sleepy, slightly hungover crew come back to life.

"This is perfect!" The helmsman Diat yelled, a grin wide on his face. "Not only do we get the Marines off our back, it's recognition that we are some of the strongest pirates on the Grand Line!"

You would have laughed at him if not for the ice in your chest. Similar celebratory remarks were made all around you, but you didn't have the strength to pretend this was good news to you.

All you could feel was an icy feeling on your back, right where you had a large scar that tore up a long faded tattoo. But time could not get rid of the mark you could never forget about, no matter how much you wanted to.

Amid the spontaneous party you finally turned back to Crocodile. Amidst it all, he was still only looking at you.

Your words were quiet compared to the raucous around you, but your captain heard you just fine.

"If you become a Warlord I'm leaving the crew."

A couple of nearby crew gasped, heads whipped in your direction and murmurs quickly took place of all the yells.

Instantly protests, people yelling your name, yelling their arguments, but it all fell on deaf ears as you stared down your captain.

Tink of all people knew it was futile to argue with you, and turned to the man of the hour. "Captain! You can't just let your first mate leave!"

Before she could continue, Crocodile interjected. "You never planned on making me King of the Pirates, right? So you never planned on staying on this ship anyways."

This evoked even more protests from the crowd. Many of them weren't sure what you two were talking about, and some had begun to yell again.

The sounds were starting to be overwhelming, and this was not a conversation that required the whole crew anyways.

"That's enough from everyone!" You yelled over the cacophony. The crew went quiet. "This is a conversation for me and the captain, the rest of you need to beat it! Do something useful, we will make a port soon."

The crowd was not placated in the least, but it was true the ship would be docked soon, and there were things that needed to be prepared beforehand.

"You heard them. Get back to work." Crocodile finished your command, and the crowd dispersed. You knew they would still be listening, but it didn't stop you.

"I refuse to be part of a crew that works alongside the Marines. If you become a Warlord you automatically become their dog - then you may as well be a dog of the celestial dragons." Your tongue burned even at the mention of the world nobles.

Crocodile took a long drag of his cigar. He looked away from you and sighed an exhale of smoke, then dragged his line of sight back to you.

"I haven't decided yet."

You bristled at this. "Are you suggesting they already offered this to you? And I had to find out through a newspaper?"

Crocodile took yet another drag, and you lost your patience with his nicotine addiction. "Answer me Crocodile."

Your captain sighed through his nose this time, some of the smoke reaching you, a familiar smell after all these years. It once may have been a nice fragrance, knowing your captain was near, but now it blinded you and stoked your anger.

"We are almost to Water 7. Let's save it for there."

-

Tensions were high, especially between you and Crocodile, when your mood worsened when he disappeared while you oversaw the docking. But you docked. You got the crew into a hotel. During this time the crew began splitting into sides, which was not something you had anticipated. But you ignored it all until finally, Crocodile returned and you cornered him into in a room alone with you.

He had no cigar, and you had no drink in hand. It was a painfully sober room.

Crocodile sighed and slumped into an armchair. He dragged his eyes across the room till they met yours. You refused to look away this time, jaw set with determination to stand your ground.

"I don't want to be the Marine's dog," Croc began. "But they offered me a deal."

"The deal that our crimes are excused? Big whoop, as long as we don't get caught it's almost the same."

"No," he sighed, a large ring covered hand dragging down his face in exasperation. "A deal to help take down Whitebeard."

That got you silent. For a moment, as you recalled every time you saw Roger and Whitebeard exchange blows and fight for days on end.

"You? Take down Whitebeard?" You laughed, but it was a dry and bitter thing. "Your bounty is $81 million berries. Your devil fruit is great and all, but it is by no means fight and beat Whitebeard good. Even if Newgate was without his crew, our entire crew would be wiped off the map. You've lost it if you truly believe that this is achieveable."

Crocodile glared from across the room. Not his usual, perpetual glare, but a genuine, freeze you in your tracks ice cold glare.

He stood up, all 8 feet imposing over you as he stalked across the room. "I have let you say plenty of cruel things to me, but this may cross the line."

But you were his first mate and you couldn't fear him if you were supposed to talk sense into him. "Cross the line? I'm not the one who is making deals with the Navy so I can sail us to our deaths at the hands of Whitebeard!" You were yelling now, no, roaring at your foolish headstrong captain.

"If you take that ship and that crew as it is now to the New World to fight Whitebeard and his sons, no one will come back alive!" Your heart was on fire with rage and frozen in fear. Rage at your captain, who is very much overestimating his abilities. Fear for your crewmates who have no idea what sort of danger their captain was going to put them in.

Crocodile was now truly enraged on the same level as you. He sneered down at you as he suddenly grabbed you by the neck - much to your shock. "I wanted you there to see me become the next Pirate King. But if you can't support me for this, one of the biggest moments in my life since I've been a pirate, then I have no need for you anymore."

With his free hand he opened the door that was behind you. A group of Marines walked in with cuffs ready. "To sweeten the deal, what better than to give a former Roger pirate to the Navy?"

You felt all the blood drain from your face, as fear for your own well being finally pierced your heart. You looked up at Crocodile, and you could feel tears begin to creep at the corner of your eyes. "You never fail to surprise me, Captain."

"Well done Sir Crocodile." One of the Marines spoke, and you could tell from their uniform it was a Vice Admiral, though you didn't recognize them.

"A public execution of a Roger's pirate should be a grand way to ring in your instatement as Warlord."

You felt the world slow down around you and felt Crocodile's grip on your neck slip at the Marine's sentencing.

Crocodile began to speak, "That was not what we agreed on," But your ears had begun to ring.

Growing up on the Oro Jackson, you had picked up some neat tricks. You found out you were hopeless with the color of observation haki, but had a special knack for color of arms. Perfect against those darn logia fruit users.

In a blink of an eye you ripped Crocodile's arm away from your neck and you made a mad dash past him. And jumped straight through a window, glass and all.

You could vaguely hear a commotion behind you as Marines ran after you, but it was lost with the ringing in your ears.

You could hear and feel your heartbeat, pounding throughout your body as you ran through the endless alleys and canals of Water 7. You could feel tears pierce through the wind rushing past your face as you ran, desperately with no objective.

All you could think about was the way the heat of Crocodile's hand felt on your neck, the cold metal of the rings that had pressed against your pulse.

Have you ever really touched Crocodile before?

…

You missed him. You didn't understand why. He had just betrayed you - fucking hell, he was just handing you over to the Navy as part of his deal to become a warlord, but god. You wanted to be with him anyways. You're not sure how long you've been in love with him; his sharp eyes, the smell of his cigars, the rings on his hands, but gods above.

You had fallen in love with Crocodile.

In your realization you slowed down. Your legs and lungs burned, you were gasping for air and not just because you had been running.

Has it always been this dark? When did the day leave you behind?

You now stood in some nondescript alley, dimly lit a golden hue by windows that lined it. It was a long alley, each end blocked by canals. How you arrived there you weren't certain. But you weren't alone.

At one end sand had appeared. And from it stepped your dear, awful captain Crocodile. You both stared at each other, both of you panting for breath.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Crocodile's voice cuts through the air to you. You knew you should run. But for some reason you couldn't find the strength.

"I didn't know they would execute you. I imagined they would send you to Impel Down." Crocodile continued to speak. You just stood there and listened as he walked towards you.

As you watched him, there was a strange look on his face. You've seen it before but still didn't know what it meant.

He stopped walking ten feet in front of you. The light was still too dim to see him clearly, but it was fine. You knew his face well enough.

"I won't let the Navy kill you. Not after what the nobles did to you, it feels wrong." You had never told Crocodile what the scar on your back was. It didn't feel like it mattered anymore.

"I think I'll feel better about this if I'm the one who kills you."

You knew this was coming. The second you saw him at the end of the alley. But you agreed with him. If you had to die at someone's hands, you would pick Crocodile over anyone else. Even if it meant he didn't feel the same about you, it didn't matter anymore. You were so tired.

It would be nice to see Roger again.

But then Rayleigh's face flashed in your mind. You still had to pay him a visit. You still had to visit Wano to see Oden. You wanted to see Shanks and Buggy find the One Piece.

You couldn't see Roger just yet.

So, in a sudden scramble, you turned around and ran.

The ground where you had been standing suddenly crumbled. You felt a gasp finally escape your lungs as you realized you almost gave up. But not yet. You had to save your crew too.

Then you finally ran out of luck. The dim light hid a hole in the cobblestones and you fell to the alley ground. You quickly twisted your body just in time to see Crocodile's scythe of sand arc straight towards you.

It hits you right in the chest, and crumbles to dust.

Confused, you run your hands through the sand that has landed on your lap. You're not cut in half - instead you just have sand all over you.

Crocodile change his mind? He was letting you go? Thoughts and heart still racing, you looked up at him.

Oh.

Oh no.

The horror on his face was plain to see - that was supposed to be a killing blow.

But he didn't hurt you.

Your hand jumped to your neck from when he grabbed you earlier. But in retrospect, you had just been shocked by the action, he hadn't harmed you.

Crocodile didn't hurt you.

No.

Crocodile couldn't hurt you.

Because he was your soulmate.

It was the look on his face that hurt you the most. The disgust, anger, horror - this man did not want a soulmate. He did not want you. So why bother sticking around?

You scrambled back to your feet. Even if he couldn't hurt you, the Marines still could.

So, with blurry eyes and a heavy heart, you ran away.

Faintly, you heard a painfully familiar voice call your name, but then all that was left was the wind as you ran.

pt. 2 (if you want, but this might be better as a one shot)

[kairiscorner]

the confounding case of dr. o'hara. — miguel o'hara x gnreader

✧ summary: your first ever real patient out in the field as a criminal psychologist, and it's the recently caught supervillain, dr. miguel o'hara; a disgraced genius geneticist that supposedly went insane after a freak accident that not only worsened his hunger for rapture, but also turned him into a horrifying spider mutant. you had to be wary around him, anything you could tell him could make him try something risky... but what he wants with you now that he's gotten a whiff of you and your scent is something far more than just risky... he wants your life, but not to take it, but rather, for you to willingly submit yourself to him and only him. ✧ pairing: miguel o'hara x criminal psychologist!reader ✧ genre: (honestly idk, it's not fully fluff but not fully angst nor comfort either ... ? tis just a guilty pleasure fic ig !) ✧ author's note: this is inspired by the lovely kimmy's art on twt !! I'M SORRY, IDK MUCH ABOUT THE DETAILS ON DR JEKYLL AND MR HYDE, I DIDN'T WANNA BUTCHER ANYTHING AND I HOPE I DIDN'T !! i mixed some traits between joker, gomez addams, and some elements of the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde ! ... i hope y'all like this :'DDD AND I'M SO SORRY FOR THE SHITTY SPANISH FGIRUFBUIRBIURTB google translate is all i got .......

i. the scent of honey and a vision of an angel.

pages and leaflets of the mountains of cases against this man successfully made you shiver at the sound of his name–you couldn't believe just how little remorse he had for every crime he had ever committed written down in these records, it was like being in the scenes of a true crime documentary; it didn't feel real that you were going to speak to the very man himself and see just why he committed all those crimes... and why he could only smile at the thought of wreaking so much havoc. you took in a deep breath and walked into the hall where his cell was in, taking cautious steps as you heard the leaking of pipes and the dripping of water accumulating into puddles the further down the hall you entered.

you had no idea why, as a rookie, your first patient would have to be a criminal mastermind—but you needed all the experience you could get, not many people in your field at your level of expertise get the chance to talk to high-profile criminals like him; and you were far more professional and knowledgeable at your job compared to your colleagues in the academy; surely this wouldn't be too bad... right? well, the minute you saw the light coming from his cell, you were greeted to the sight of a hunched over man, sitting quietly at the center of the room with his back turned to the glass in front of you. you gently tapped at the glass, but that didn't catch his attention. "i know you can hear me." you spoke as you tried to get him to turn around again, but he still didn't budge. you rolled your eyes and sat down on a chair across from his cell; preparing to ask him questions that he probably won't even answer.

you introduced yourself as a freshly graduated criminal psychologist from nueva york university, you hoped he would cooperate with you and give you reasons as to why he committed his crimes, explaining to him that he could get a much more lenient punishment if he could explain his side of the story as to why such a once well-respected man had spiraled into such a morbid life of crime. you heard a low chuckle rumble from the other side of the glass, and that low rumble became more audible, all the way until he was cackling loudly; the sounds reverberating throughout the rubber-padded white walls and rang throughout the glass. the cackling soon faltered out and ceased, you felt the hairs on your body stand up as you heard every octave of his maniacal laughter–you'd think that years of case studies and witnessing firsthand from your mentors that dealing with people like him wouldn't be too challenging or disturbing, but this experience proved you to be wrong, so terribly wrong.

as the laughter died down, the corner of the man's smile showed from behind his long, shaggy unkempt wispy hair; and when he turned around to face you, you saw that his eyes were a dark shade, they were bloodshot and crimson, they were deathly, and you knew he was far more dangerous than any other criminal could contend with. the man grimaced and slowly creeped his head around over his shoulder to get a good look at you. his body followed suit and gradually turned to face you, the brown restraints on his white, yet stained, straightjacket made him look both pitiful and dangerous all at once. suddenly, the man slowly got up and wobbled over to you–it was as though he had gone days, maybe weeks, without walking; could he have stayed in that position this whole time before you came to see him?

the man's gaze was bearing into your own, his eyes not leaving yours as his grimace widened; the corners of his smile reaching his ears as he chuckled every now and then in a delusional daze. his chin and cheeks were dotted with stubbles and hints of fuzz and a beard–he had gone days without shaving, either, it seemed. he pressed his forehead against the glass and stared down at you, and only then were you able to understand how big he was; about 200 centimeters and counting, and yet, he was able to be restrained... he was frightening, and he knew you thought that of him.

"...miel..." the sound escaped his lips, the first word he spoke in a long while. you looked up at him in fear and gulped, writing down what you heard. "...w-what?" you asked him, hoping he'd repeat the word. the man's grin widened creepily as he slowly opened his mouth to speak again, and a dribble of saliva dripped down his chin as he stared at you, hungrily, like a starved predator cornering its prey. "miel, mi cariño, it's... honey, sweet as... shocking honey, making me hungry..." he murmured out, hid constant breathing fogging up the glass. you moved your chair back a little and cleared your throat, making miguel press his face against the glass even further as you moved away from him. he thumped his forehead against the glass, making you jolt a little and look at him. he stared at you from underneath his eyelashes and smirked widely.

"don't... don't escape me, mi tesoro... c'mon, it's been... too damn long since i've had such a pretty little thing come here and look so shocking ravishing–" he gushed and mumbled as his breath quickened and his smile got even wider, but seeing as how uncomfortable and tense he made you, he, surprisingly, quit that and moved away a little from the glass. he hung his head in what appeared to be frustration, and mumbled in a hused tone, "ah, quiero arrancarte esa blusa... but i can tell..." he whispered as he sat down closely to the glass and leaned his head forward, looking at you with a sly grin. "you don't like men who are that straightforward, do you?" he asked you as he watched every little move and twitch your body made, sinking in all the details about you as he muttered to himself, twitching as well at your little responsive gestures that said more than words ever could help you articulate the feelings he was giving you right then and there.

he chuckled as he watched you restlessly fidget in your seat, darting your gaze away from him as much as you could. "you're so cute, mi amor... keep that up and i might just really break out of here, i finally have a reason to now that your pretty little face showed up." he said, gazing at you all... lovingly as he smiled the more you stuttered out the next thing you wanted to say. "...there is... literally nothing you'll get out of smooth talking me." you said defiantly as miguel chuckled aloud again, rocking himself back and forth in ecstasy. "you're not only cute, smart, and snarky, but a bad liar too... eso me excita, sabes?" he teased you as he stuck his tongue out, a couple of smuggled piercings on the tip of his tongue gleamed as he did so, making you a little more tense as before. he hummed to himself as he looked at you with an even more sultry, desperate look on his angled face. "you're like an angel... you'll be known as mi angel from now on, okay, mi ángel? keep visiting me more often, mi ángel, i need to be reminded miracles can happen... even to scum like me." he whispered as you looked away from him, making him whimper and beg for you to look at him in spanish and english.

"por favor no me hagas esperar… mírame, mi ángel..." he pleaded with you as he got on his knees and pouted, showing off his lower lip as he gave you such big, sad eyes that tried to convince you to look his way. though he tried to appear less menacing and pathetic, you knew this was just a front of his to get you to do something for him, maybe to get him out? to take his place for him? to... oh, you couldn't even jump to that conclusion, because there's no way that—

"i desperately need you, mi ángel... please, look my way, my little angel... come closer, i need to smell your... your honey-like scent again, it drives me crazy, crazy with love, mi ángel, you can't even imagine..." he begged of you, leaning his forehead against the glass again, sobbing audibly as you sighed. would you look him for a second time? would you kindly let him get a whiff of you again and crave for you? he would never hurt you if you did, of course not; angels aren't meant to be hurt, and you, his darling little angel, would never be hurt around him... he'll do everything to make sure you won't be, and no restraints will ever hold him back from getting his strong, toned arms around your beautiful body, around his little angel, once and for all.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @hearts4gabri @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce @oxrchd

[hainethehero]

A JOSS WHEDON HATER FOREVER- a think piece on how Avengers 1 set up Steve Rogers to be the MCU's punching bag for the rest of the franchise

(We all know Joss Whedon is an absolute garbage person. He's done many horrible things including being a racist, sexist moron who should be behind literal bars.) This is a commentary on his absolute shit writing for Avengers 1.

This one particular scene and the one following it is purely poor writing & direction for the character of Steve Rogers.👇

After Coulson dies, Fury addresses Steve and Tony and tosses Coulson's bloodied Captain America cards at Steve. He says something like "guess you never found the time to sign them" which is just horribly cruel and though not OOC for Fury, is not something he'd say lightly. We later realize here👇

...that he's secretly trying to put together the team. This is where he makes his big "there was an idea" speech and mentions that "Stark knows this." Because yeah, Tony was made aware of this in Iron Man 1 when Coulson visited and told Pepper. In contrast, Steve had no idea about the Avengers Initiative.

In fact, the dude was just pulled from the Valkyrie in the ice!! In the beginning scene of Avengers 1, we see him at the gym with the punching bag having LITERAL WAR FLASHBACKS about Bucky and Peggy and the Howlies! He's not stable and yet Fury confronts him and ropes him into the mission to get the Tesseract. Steve says, "you should've left it where you found it." And I can't help but think that maybe Steve means himself as well because dude just lost EVERYONE & EVERYTHING he literally knew and cared about.

Anyway, back to the point, Steve knows nothing about the Initiative but is suddenly made to feel guilty about Coulson's death in some kind of roundabout way of "convincing him to join the team" in honor of Coulson.

And then, to make matters WORSE, in the next scene they make HIM comfort Tony 👇

They make him say, "im sorry" (like it was his fault???!) and "he was just doing his job" and "is this the first time you've lost a soldier?" LIKE WTAF???

*INSERTS JACOB ELORDI MEME FROM EUPHORIA SAYING WHAT THE FUCKKKKK?!*

First of all, Steve barely knows these people! Second, he was fond of Coulson and I'm sure they would've been close friends. But did they have to GUILT-TRIP Steve into joining the team? Like, that's just dumb and proves that they don't actually give a fuck about his character!

AND TALK ABOUT MEAN! Fury at least knew about Steve losing Bucky on that train. He KNOWS Steve's first words when he woke up from sleep was "I had a date" reflecting the tragedy of the man out of time. To just rip him out of sleep and thrust him into a mission and later making him feel guilty about Coulson was just pure cruelty, making SHIELD no better than HYDRA. They all saw Steve as a pawn, another mindless soldier to carry out their missions and I hate JW for that.

Steve's character was not accurately portrayed nor was his trauma properly dealt with and so this is why today, we see alot of MCU "fans" calling Steve the worst avenger, lame, boring and basically a crutch to Tony's genius. (I'm a huge Tony Stark fan, don't @ me). It just felt that the mcu wanted to make Tony the ultimate hero- which is fine, Nothing's wrong with that- but they did it at the expense of Steve's character and trauma.

Sadly, this narrative continues all the way down to Endgame and for that I will always hate JW & the mcu's portrayal of Steve Rogers.

[fortune-fool02]

Connection

Leon Kennedy x female reader

Summary: A connection is more than a word.

Warning: Angst. Mentions of struggling to connect, mentions of isolation and loneliness. Comfort at the end.

I wrote this at a bit of a point in my head where it was not the best. Thank you for reading though I'm sorry if it's not the best. I just needed to write this.

I might delete it later on or something.

Please enjoy.

Humans are social creatures. That fact alone was a common one that many understood easily. People had friends, others to share an experience with. Able to form and create bonds over simple conversations and events such as going to a party or even just hanging out somewhere.

From such activities, that person would become fond of their presence. Seek them out subconsciously, a stray text here and there throughout the day or few days. A way to speak even when they weren't together.

It was these things that allowed bonds to form. For connections to strengthen between individuals. How friendships and relationships of all shapes were forged.

Though, for some, such things were dreams. Fantasies equal to distant lands riddled with fairy-tales and promises of something greater. A brighter world. [Name] was one of those who struggled to connect. Ever since she could remember, those around her always seemed to not notice her, despite her best attempts to have them see her. To have them remember her, and feel some form of authentic connection in return. And yet, every attempt failed.

She would watch as the people around her would plan out events with such passion and enthusiasm but never once would turn their head to her, "Hey, do you want to come?" Words she longed to hear leave their lips. Instead, in their place, [Name] was always given a "Sorry, there's not enough room.", "Oh, it's more of our thing.", "Don't worry, we'll invite you next time."

Next time never came around. It was never her turn for anything. Was she doing something wrong?The reflection that would stare back at her would develop flaws, each one carving itself into her flesh, staining her vision until this make-believe thought was as real as stone for her.

At times, it would infuriate her. Other people would form connections and bonds so easily, thick and strong, and yet, she struggled for someone to even remember her name. To have someone send her a text message, asking how she was, rather than her always being the one asking was something that she craved.

For someone to look at her and see her. To wish to get to know her, to care enough. [Name] wanted that. She wanted to be cared for, to be wanted and craved. To be someone's 'special someone'. In truth, no, in her eyes, there was more chance of getting blood from a stone or proving true Divinity exists than such a possibility happening to her.

It would be easier to count rapid passing cars in a motorway than to recall just how many times she had shed tears over this reality. A crater in place of where her heart would be. A hollow point of the soul. Why try to chase after the Sun and blind yourself?

Then there was a shift in this endless, vast existence that she called her own, like a tiny wave in the ocean. A man had relocated to her town. A man of dark hair with thin strands of blonde occasionally peer through, and blue eyes that would put the morning sky to shame.

A man who noticed her. Who took note of her existence and wished to explore her further than just that. Leon almost seemed too good that [Name] was certain there was a motive behind his kindness. She didn't want to get attached. She didn't want to get her hopes up again.

And yet, he didn't let her down. If he said he was going to be there at seven, he would arrive at five minutes to. He would call her. He would text her. Hell, he even remembered her birthday. Something that almost brought her to tears when she awoke that morning to see a 'Happy Birthday' message from him.

For the first time, [Name] felt as if she could be seen by someone. That she was not just some background character in her own life. Leon stood at her front door, a warm smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes that would light up the second he saw her. To know that this sparkle and smile was only for her...

It didn't just stop there. Leon would find ways to make her smile. Little gifts that he tailored to her liking, remembering things spoken in past conversations. He would remember important days for her. He would recall events and her preferences.

Leon would remember things that [Name] didn't even recall telling him. For once in her life, she was not the one chasing after those to connect to. Those that she tried so hard to keep around only to be left alone and cold.

Now, he was here beside her. His arms wrapped around her body to chase away that bitter coldness. To reignite that flame in her body that had long since died out.

Leon was here for her. And now, she finally had that distant dream of hers. [Name] finally meant something to someone.

She meant the world and more to Leon.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

I like your scars | {SaneGiyuu}

Theme: Fluff :3

Note: Yk that one audio? Smth that goes like, "I like your scars" 'M-Mine?' "Yeah." 'I like your smile!' 

or smth but i forget the whole thing 😭

Anyways, partially inspired by that, and some videos I was watching earlier

-They're already dating!

-Probably OOC Giyuu bc the videos influenced me to make Giyuu so sassy 😃

-Also a little Nemi insecurity :3

-...and slightly OOC Sanemi at some points because... they're both shit at being fluffy when it comes to words, so at this point this is just what I want to say to a future lover but somewhat in their personalities... 😋

Giyuu rest his forehead on Sanemi's, their breaths interweaving together. It was silent as the two lovers lay together in a single futon, holed up in Giyuu's house as snow fell outside; the temperature dropping by the second.

"Giyuu?" Sanemi asked, after a beat.

Giyuu hummed in assent, his hand resting on Sanemi's jaw, his thumb tracing the scars on his boyfriend's face. "What is it?"

"Does my appearence not hinder your ability to... stay attracted to me?" Sanemi murmured uncertainly.

"Not at all. I like your scars," Giyuu said, a small smile brightening his face. He placed a loving kiss on the scar running across Sanemi's cheek.

"People tell me I'm scary when they see me. They run away. I can't assure people as well when I'm on my missions given of how they react..." Sanemi paused. "No one minds your presence, though. It's comforting."

Giyuu laughed gently, shaking his head. Sanemi watched him carefully.

"Sanemi, people think I'm too quiet. People say you're too loud. They say what they want, but their opinions don't matter, do they? I think... you shouldn't listen to them. They don't know you. You're kind and pretty and cute," Giyuu said, booping Sanemi's nose. "Either they're too traumatized by the demons to notice or they've got something terribly wrong with their eyesight."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "But as you said, it's their opinion. How is your opinion so different from theirs when so many of theirs is... negative? And I'm not cute, by the way," he said, huffing.

"Hmm, I think you are. You're just proving me right," Giyuu said. "And, to answer your question, it's an opinion, remember? Theirs may be highly defective but trust me to say that I believe my words truly. What I say may be different than others but what I'm saying is also how I feel, how I see you and what I think of you. I love you, Sanemi, and nothing can changed that."

There was a silence for a minute, one of processing as the Wind Hashira pondered this.

"Mm... Then, I like your smile," Sanemi said finally, his voice quiet.

Giyuu chuckled softly, shaking his head in wonder. "And where might that have come from?"

"You kept complimenting me!! If I didn't compliment you, I'd feel bad," Sanemi whined.

"Fine. Why do you like my smile? Kocho-San says it's unsightful and that I shouldn't smile much," Giyuu said, frowning slightly.

"Well, Kocho's opinions are also deeply flawed then. I think it's wonderful. And more so by the fact that I rarely get to see it." Sanemi kissed him tenderly, as if he had to be careful, else Giyuu would break. "But if you smiled more often that would be just as lovely. You look so alive when you smile."

"Do I look like a dead fish when I don't?" Giyuu teased. 

"Nah, you're still adorable when you don't," Sanemi insisted. "Where the hell did 'dead fish' come from, though?"

Giyuu shrugged, moving to wrap his arms around Sanemi. "Some of the other Hashira have called me that before, I think. You did too, no? Before we started dating?"

Sanemi groaned. "Noo, don't remind me, I feel so bad about that..." 

"Don't be, I really was—am?—like one. Also, you hated me then so... sort of justified. And I did conspire ways to get back at all of you when I was particularily upset," Giyuu said, smirking at the thought.

"Oh? That makes me feel so much better," Sanemi said sarcastically. "What were these conspiracies, then?"

"Eh, stupid shit. Mostly just insults."

"Right. I didn't hate you, by the way," Sanemi said. 

"No? I thought you hated me with a, and I quote, 'burning passion,'" Giyuu said, giggling. 

"Oh, fuck off... No, well, I was irritated with you but I didn't 'hate you with a burning passion,'" Sanemi said with a sigh. "I hate myself for saying that, it was so cringy."

"Mmhm, it was funny," Giyuu murmured. "You know, after it all happened and I looked back on it. Why'd I annoy you, though? Was I that irritating?"

"Nah," Sanemi said, conspiciously not elaborating.

"Then... what?"

Sanemi grumbled, slinking down under the covers, his head obscured by the blanket and Giyuu's arms. He nestled himself into Giyuu's embrace, resting his forehead on the Water Hashira's chest. 

"You were so damn cool," Sanemi murmured, his voice muffled by the clothing. "I admired you so much it hurt. I pretended to hate you because it made it easier to cope with the fact that I liked you."

Giyuu raised an eyebrow at nothing, tucking his chin in to look down at the bundle of Sanemi wrapped in his arms.

"That's... cute," Giyuu said, laughing suddenly.

"Hey!! Don't laugh!" Sanemi said, jolting up, his face flushed as he bonked Giyuu lightly with his head.

"I'm sorry!! I'm sorry, I just can't imagine you admiring me. Or, like... Liking me at all. Before, at least," Giyuu said, pulling Sanemi up to his level again. 

Sanemi averted his eyes, his cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment. "Fuck, I was falling for you," Sanemi mumbled. "My ass couldn't admit it, though." 

"Well, it all turned out well," Giyuu said, kissing him. 

"Mhm, and now I've got a hot ass boyfriend who's never going to let this fact down. My money's on the fact that you'll bring it whenever you have a chance just to embarrass me," Sanemi said, pouting. 

"Awee, but you get so flustered easily, it's too cute not to..." Giyuu said.

"Hmm, right. Tell me how you fell for me," Sanemi said confidently, wanting Giyuu to be humiliated as well.

"Let me think back a bit," Giyuu said, resting his head on Sanemi's, closing his eyes. "I think... a couple months before I asked you out."

"How did you decide to ask me out, thought? Were you contemplating it for months?" Sanemi asked, laughing. 

"No, I wasn't going to tell you until..." Giyuu paused. "I don't know. I had this... spark. I think it was something you said."

The Hashira went silent again, lost in their thoughts. 

"Was it the time some bitch came and asked me out?" Sanemi asked, after a long moment. "A week or two before you asked me, some... demon slayer girl? She went up to me and asked me out. Fuck, I turned her down in an instant because my mind was on you, of all people... And she was ugly."

Giyuu snorted. "She was not, don't say that, Sanemi," he chastised.

"She was!! Especially the way she ran off crying after—don't tell me you feel bad for her? She literally avoided my eyes when she asked. You, on the other hand. Your ass walked up to me all, 'Hey Shinazugawa, wanna go out?' I'm going to be honest, you took me so off guard." Sanemi sighed, reminising. "It was a good type, though. You were so confident, somehow. Like, your eyes stayed on mine the whole time and were so..." 

His voice trailed off in thought and the silence slipped back into the room for a second.

"Sanemi?"

"Yes?"

"I wasn't confident, really. But I do think it was the fact that you turned down the girl that I asked you out finally. Partially, at least. I was hopeful because you'd turned her down, and... she was, you know, female? I was hoping it was because you were attracted to men. That, and I hadn't stopped loving you after several months," Giyuu concluded. "I guess I gave up on trying to rid the feeling."

Sanemi rolled his eyes. "Months," he scoffed. "I'd been trying to stop loving you for a fucking year. Hell, I just pretended to myself that I didn't like you. Good job."

"Eh? For what?" Giyuu asked.

"If you hadn't asked me out, I would've pretended I hated you for the rest of my life," Sanemi said, almost annnoyed at himself. "I'm a coward sometimes."

"Sometimes?" Giyuu teased.

Sanemi glared at him. "Alright, enough talk, let's sleep," he said, wrapping his arms around Giyuu's waist and closing his eyes.

"Hey, it's not my fault you started the conversation in the first place!" Giyuu protested, though he had a smile wavering on his face.

"Oh, fuck off. How did I start it?!" Sanemi complained. 

"You asked if your scars made me not like you," Giyuu said, kissing Sanemi's forehead.

"Mm. I forgot."

"I know."

Another lapse of silence drew on (this is getting annoying, isn't it....) and for a moment, Giyuu assumed Sanemi was falling asleep. 

But then he said, "And if you're wondering, there was nothing that made me ask you that. I was just... looking in the mirror yesterday."

"Oh." Giyuu paused. "But you look... gorgeous. What, was the mirror broken?"

Sanemi, whose head had been previously smushed against Giyuu's chest, looked up. "It was working perfectly fine, that's why," he said. "I can't bear to look at myself sometimes. Reminds me what I've gone through."

"Hmm, think about instead how much you've braved through, then? Or lived through? And you still look hot as hell??" Giyuu said, grinning slightly.

"Yeah... no. And... I didn't brave through shit. I literally just told you that I'm a coward," Sanemi deadpanned.

"We were talking about a completely different thing!!" he insisted. "And you did brave through it. It's not really being all fearless, it's about overcoming it."

"Look at you, being all wordy and practical," Sanemi said, grumbling. "Fine, if you want to give me a pep-talk, I'll accept it so you don't continue."

"Alright," Giyuu murmured. 

"Let's sleep now, 'kay? I want rest if I have to do my missions in dead-winter," Sanemi said, closing his eyes again as he rested his head against his boyfriend's body.

"Mmhm, love you, sleep well," the ravenette said quietly, placing another kiss on Sanemi's cheek.

"Love you too."

×××

« Word count: 1685 »

I HOPE THIS ONESHOT WAS SATISFACTORY AND I TOTALLY DIDN'T AT ONE POINT LOOK BACK AND REALIZE I WROTE SILENCE AS SILENECE, LOVE YOU ALL!!!! (i almost forgot how much I love fluff bc I keep clinging onto angst)

[seapiglet]

hm

I've seen a LOT of shaming going round at the moment, both here and on twitter, of people who are seeking out good omens spoilers, mostly by those who have watched the new episodes in advance. despite what neil and david and michael may have said on the subject, it's rubbing me the wrong way! so I feel the need to make a potentially unpopular post about

✨SPOILERS AND NEURODIVERSITY✨

(and accessibility) 🤚🏼

now I cannot speak for everybody here but as an autistic person with ocd I actually !prefer! being spoiled ahead of time and will frequently read the entire wiki article for a show I'm about to watch (though weirdly CANNOT skip ahead with books?) in order to alleviate anxiety around the unexpected. trust me when I say that knowing what will happen in advance *enhances* the experience for me and I have yet to regret being deliberately spoiled, even when it comes to my absolute favourite things on earth, things I may have been waiting months and months (or in this case years) for. in fact, the longer I've had to wait, the more the feeling of gut-twisting anxiety and uncertainty beds down in my system and makes itself a very unwelcome house guest.

it's all very well insisting that everybody just be patient and ~wait and see~ but for a lot of neurodiverse folks this can be a very unsettling prospect. personally, I don't like surprises! I don't crave the sensation of being shocked by an unforeseen twist! it makes me do a panic! even the thought of it makes me feel deeply uncomfortable.

we're not simply throwing our toys out the pram because we WANT something and we WANT IT NOW (shout out to verruca salt). there is a soothing comfort and stability to predictability that is difficult to explain to somebody who doesn't experience this.

at this point I should mention that OBVIOUSLY not all neurodiverse/autistic/diagnosed-ocd people feel this way but that doesn't negate the fact that a lot of us do and there's not much we can do about it.

I'm aware that everybody's currently moralising about the rightness/wrongness of illicitly distributing and trading nuggets of forbidden information like crack-laced pokemon cards* (surely in this fandom everything should exist in a grey area?) but please don't jump on this as an opportunity to prove who's the most terribly righteous and which of us gets to wear the Super Duper Bestest Fan Neil's Favourite prefect badge for the day. devolving into needless factions and one-upmanship so near to the official airdate does nobody any good.

on another personal note (this is the 👂🏼♿accessibility♿👂🏼bit) I was due to attend one of the screenings and now can't due to the apparent lack of subtitles. pleeeeeaase think of accessibility, amazon. please? some of us have severely messed up ears and/or auditory processing disorders - it's not hurting anybody to have the words up on the screen but it excludes many of us if you don't.

again, if you think it's terrible and wrong to want to be spoiled or to share spoilers you are well within your rights to think that, and of course I encourage anybody who is participating in a bit of blackmarket spoiler dealing to utilise ALL the tags you can think of to keep it secret (keep it safe), or simply leave it to the DMs, but I really don't see the good in shaming others who feel differently.

uhh thank you and good day 🎩

(*hopefully that still scans - my references are as ancient and ephemeral as my knee cartilage)

[raavenb2619]

Does coming out lead to too much focus on labels?

(I don't really have a main thesis I'm trying to convince anyone of, I just had a thought and wondered what other people thought.)

When I had recently figured out I was ace/aro/nonbinary, I really cared about finding the right labels for me. And the aspec community in particular has so many unique perspectives and labels that you can apply to yourself. What kinds of attraction do you feel, how do you label your orientations and attractions, what model do you use to think about attraction, how do you think about relationships, how do you feel about sex/romance/relationships, etc. It was super eye opening to learn about lots of different terms, and different ways of thinking about things, and things I'd never even thought about or thought I even could think about, and I ended up applying lots of labels to myself.

But, it's been many years since then, and over time I've grown less interested in applying specific labels to myself. I'm still queer/ace/aro/trans/nonbinary/polyam, but I don't really use other labels. (And depending on the situation, I might end up omitting labels when vagaries work fine.) That's not to say that I don't have affinity with other labels, whether that's "I'm similar to what this label describes" or "this label provides an interesting perspective that I like", I just...don't use other labels to define my identity. If I'm comfortable enough talking about something that I could use a label for, I'll just describe my experiences directly, instead of saying "I'm [blank]".

And, I wonder if that shift from specificity to vagary has to do with coming out. For a young aroace like me, part of why coming out was so nerve-racking was that I felt like I had to prove that my identity was real, and having specific labels I could point to and say "look, this is real, I'm not making this up, other people are like this too" was super helpful. But, it's been many years since I've come out, and I'm more confident and know who I am, and that insecurity that I fought back with fistfuls of labels and well-rehearsed explanations is gone. (With the potential exception of QPR-related discussions, which feel kind of like coming out again; I might make a post about that some time if people are interested.)

Every time I've ever come out, or seen someone come out in real life or in media, it's always been "I'm [blank]", but I've never seen someone come out as "I'm not cis/straight". It's always a declaration that you are a specific thing, never a statement that you aren't something someone thought you were. I remember really wanting to make sure I knew exactly what I was and didn't come out as one thing and then change my labels later, because it would mean I'd have to come out again and it would be embarrassing that I got things wrong and maybe people would start to doubt me and not believe me when I said I was something in the future. But, people don't have to be a fixed, immutable set of labels forever; I'm comfortable with using vague labels for myself and letting myself be vague and nebulous and fluid without frantically trying to label every single part of myself. (And, in fact, I did technically get my labels slightly wrong the very first time I came out, and everything turned out okay in the end.)

So, maybe coming out puts an undue pressure on finding specific labels and making sure they're exactly right; maybe coming out should also be able to be "I'm not cis/straight". What do people think?

(This is not to say that specific labels are bad, because they can often be very helpful! Specific labels were helpful for me when I used them, and their existence can spark conversations and lead to new perspectives and learning. Even as I'm finding vagueness and nebulousness to be better for me right now than specific detailed labels, other people can be finding that specific detailed labels give them a sense of belonging and community and identity. But, I still wonder if coming out placed an undue burden on younger me to find all the right labels when vagueness could have worked just as well.)