#so I am assuming that's a change that will stick and they have no interest on changing the view of their relationship

[griddlebait]

since i couldn’t post the new chapter to celebrate the one year anniversary of sckl and a few of you said you wanted to read it, i'm sharing the first scene of chapter 25 below the cut.

(keep in mind that this is before beta-reading and final edits so a few things might change when the chapter is posted!)

Just past one in the morning, Gideon quietly let herself into her apartment. She carefully placed her shoes on the rack and tiptoed through the living room, assuming that all of her roommates were either asleep or trying to get there, but she soon noticed a dim, fuzzy glow emitting from the kitchen. Not all of her roommates, then.

Harrow was sitting on the counter with the refrigerator left open in front of her so she didn’t have to turn on an overhead light. Gideon wasn’t surprised; she caught her like this every now and then, most times eating individual ingredients or cold pasta straight from the tupperware container or chugging all the water she’d forgotten to drink that day. Tonight she lacked that manic, starved alleycat quality to her movements—she was looser, relaxed, nonchalantly glancing over her shoulder and languidly straightening her posture at the confirmation of Gideon’s presence—but Gideon still spotted a cup of water clutched in her hand when she rounded the bar. 

“Where have you been?” Harrow asked the moment Gideon reached the line between carpet and tile.

“Am I in trouble?” Gideon whispered back sarcastically.

Harrow’s fingers idly tapped against the plastic cup in muted, arrhythmic thumps. Her voice was curiously hoarse as she said, “That depends on where you’ve been.”

Gideon didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but it warmed her face and prickled her skin. “I was downstairs with Nona,” she elaborated automatically. “She asked me to help her pick out her nail polish colors. And we watched the Ghostbusters movies. And then fell asleep by accident.”

Harrow stared at Gideon. She blinked. She dropped her eyes. Then she said, “okay,” and there was slight resignation in the drooping of her shoulders, an audible settling in the quietness of her voice. She looked down into her cup as if the water inside was suddenly supremely interesting. 

“So … am I in trouble?”

Harrow didn’t look up. “I suppose not.”

The air between them thinned out like a window had been opened and Gideon realized, feeling unlike herself, that she’d gone in the wrong direction. She was supposed to play along and make up something ridiculous yet interesting, like that she’d actually been out at a leather bar with Ianthe getting into fights for fun. She should have given Harrow something to at least roll her eyes at, but she didn’t, and the moment passed, and it was already too late. 

That kept happening these days. Gideon tried not to kick herself too hard about it this time. She wasn’t convincingly dressed for a leather bar anyway. 

Harrow turned to set her cup down on the counter, allowing Gideon a better view of her face. She looked almost as if she’d just rolled out of bed: her cheeks held a curious flush in the yellow light and the ends of her hair were sticking to her forehead and temples, the rest of her grown out buzz cut tousled and poking up in random places. Her expression was blank and tired and gave absolutely no hints at what she was thinking about, so Gideon attempted to read her body language, lowering her eyes and—and—

And Harrow’s arms were extending upwards and curling behind her head in a lazy stretch, and that movement sent her shirt riding up on her stomach to reveal more than a couple inches of bare skin. Gideon privately remarked, her mind growing a bit foggy and distant, that she had never actually seen Harrow’s stomach before.

Which wasn’t a big deal. Stomachs were super common. So were belly buttons. There was no reason to die of shock at the non-revelation that Harrow had both a stomach and a belly button. It was just that every inch of her skin that Gideon had seen before now had been empty and blank—naturally speaking, anyway; Gideon had given her wrist a permanent blemish that summer—and, although it wasn’t as if she’d thought about it specifically, Gideon kind of assumed that the rest of Harrow’s skin would be equally as plain. So even if everyone had a belly button and it was neither impressive nor profound that Harrow also had one, Gideon found herself momentarily transfixed by the small dark brown speck just to the left of it. A freckle, or a mole, or a birthmark, Gideon couldn’t tell with the distance and lighting.

It seemed impossible that you could know someone for their entire life and still keep finding things to learn about them. Gideon thought it was wildly unfair that it had taken nearly twenty-one years for her to discover this very simple fact about Harrow, and then she wondered if something could even be considered a discovery if it had already been discovered by someone else. She found this to also be wildly unfair.

She blinked so hard rainbow flurries danced behind her eyelids and she narrowly avoided physically shaking her head to clear her thoughts like an Etch-A-Sketch. Harrow was totally oblivious to the attention and finished her stretch, dropping her arms to her sides; her shirt slid back down until there was nothing but a thin sliver of skin above the waistband of her pajama pants left exposed. 

The refrigerator was safer to look at. They ran out of orange juice this morning. Cam probably added it to the grocery list already.

“So did you stay up just to get on my ass about coming home late?” Gideon asked. Her throat felt strange.

“No,” Harrow said. After a brief stretch of silence, each word lulling with hesitation like she hadn’t quite decided if she actually wanted to say what she was in the middle of saying, she tacked on: “I was with Camilla.”

That made sense. That explained—yeah. Okay. Not really information Gideon needed to know, but okay. Waves of disappointment rolled through her chest, embarrassment following soon after. She’d been mostly joking—Harrow never needed a reason to stay up—but it was unwelcomingly humbling to be told that no, Harrow hadn’t been waiting for her, and in fact had been plenty busy with somebody else. 

The fact that Gideon had been doing the same thing in a different context, and the question of how much that context mattered and why, were such fleeting, whispering thoughts in the back of Gideon’s mind that they might as well not have been there at all. 

"What, you guys don't have sleepovers?" she asked, her voice supernaturally relaxed as opposed to the unsteadiness she felt internally. 

“No,” Harrow said, and Gideon already knew that. 

"Guess I’m special then,” she pressed because she couldn’t help herself.

“You’re—Yes. You are unique in that.”

That, too, confirmed what Gideon already knew. She still felt better for hearing it. 

Harrow’s leg brushed against Gideon’s elbow as she slid off the counter, but she didn’t seem to notice. She stepped forward and shut the fridge, casting them into a darkness that was only salvaged by streaks of moonlight slipping through the curtains, and turned back to Gideon drenched in shades of gray. 

Gideon wasn’t sure what she expected—nothing, really, she wasn’t expecting anything. It was her body that pulled taut with unnamable anticipation when Harrow looked her in the eye. It was the briefest of glances, and Gideon still could not maintain the contact; she unsteadily cast her gaze anywhere else. Harrow stepped past her to leave without letting the moment linger.

“Goodnight, Griddle.”

Gideon exhaled, her body sinking as if she’d been released. Harrow didn’t notice. She was already halfway through the living room. That was as much of a relief as it was a disappointment. 

“Goodnight,” Gideon replied a beat too late. Refusing to let herself watch Harrow go, she settled for listening to the sound of her footsteps grow quiet and distant. 

[undiscovered-horizon]

Who am I to complain? - Nikolai Lantsov x Reader

[emotional and verbal abuse, unhealthy parent-child relationships]

SUMMARY: When your parents come to visit, Nikolai finally understands why you've never been keen to talk about them. Being the King and your husband, he isn't afraid to defy them.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 4.5k

>>Grishaverse-inspired playlist<<

"Have you listened to anything I've just said?"

Nikolai shakes you awake from being lost in thought. You look away from the insanely interesting skirting board you had been staring at for the past ten minutes. He’s watching you with raised eyebrows, awaiting an answer.

"I…” you hang your voice. At first, you wanted to just apologize and ask him to repeat himself but then a sense of dread sprouts in your abdomen - one you can’t quite put a finger on but it takes over your entire mind. “I'm sorry, Kolya. Please, don’t be mad at me, I’m sorry,” you plead, gradually speaking faster.

“I’m not angry,” he states firmly. “But I am growing concerned for you, love. What’s going on?”

“I just keep thinking about my parents' visit,” you confess while rubbing your forehead. “Ever since the letter arrived, I can hardly think about anything else."

"Yes, I've noticed you have been a bit absent for the past few days. I assumed you were going to talk to me when you're ready. Are you?"

"They're not bad people," you begin in a strange tone that makes Nikolai doubt your words right away, "and they've only done their best to give me a good life. Despite that, they have a tendency to bring out the parts of me I've grown to dislike." 

“Isn’t that what every family does?” he jokes in hopes of easing your visible discomfort. But his good humour is gone the moment you look away with a sombre expression stuck to your features.

Nikolai always considered himself exceptional at self-control but something about your sadness makes him gradually abandon reason. As you forlornly stare into the darkness of your shared bedroom, he’s ready to stick feathers to his clothes and pretend to be a peacock just to make you laugh.

“Love,” he calls out softly. His hand rests between your shoulder blades. “You’re the queen. If you want, we can call their visit off right away.”

“That would be a little rude, no?” you ask in a meek voice.

“It’s a lot more crude to make you cry.”

“I will be alright, really,” you reassure him. That miserable look on your face is slowly creeping away. “It’s just three days. Maybe they’ve changed or they’re a lot better than I remember. I’ll be okay.”

Nikolai is unsure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him but he doesn’t push. Despite not believing your clumsy words of reassurance, he trusts you - he’ll step in only when things really get out of hand.

Nervousness and excitement often feel the same and one might even fool themselves into believing that the mortifying tension in their muscles is actually an impatient thrill. Today, however, you don’t even try playing a little trick on yourself. The more you think about your feelings, the more you’re convinced that it’s not even nervousness but fear. Still, you don’t quite understand why exactly your parents’ visit elicits such awful emotions from you.

The door to the throne room opens and a man in a white and gold livery steps inside. He quickly walks halfway to the dais with the throne. 

The servant bows as deep as he can and clears his throat before loudly announcing: “Presenting her most royal Highness’s, the Queen’s, mother and father.”

Only then do your parents emerge from the hall, walking hesitantly through the spacious throne room. Two guards are following them and your father spares them a confused glance every few steps. But the armed men only usher him to keep walking and not turn his back to the king until allowed to do so.

Feeling fear exploding in your chest, you grip Nikolai’s shoulder even tighter. Sitting on the throne, he has to look up to meet your eyes.

“Calm down, it’s going to be alright,” he says quietly. A reassuring smile curves his lips. “You said it yourself.”

As though he is a Heartrender himself, his words make you relax. You take a deep breath and let go of his shoulder. At that moment, Nikolai stands up to greet your parents as their son-in-law first and only then the king of Ravka.

Right then, your mother quickly runs up the few steps leading to the dais. Her face is red and a deep crease now separates her eyebrows.

“I have to wait to be announced to see my own daughter?” She’s barely containing her outrage. “Nonsense!”

“I’m royalty now, mother,” you explain calmly. Your voice almost doesn’t shake.

“And I’m still your mother, the one that gave birth to you. Do I not get any benefits from that?”

Maybe some people don’t actually change.

“I’m afraid you don’t.”

“Is this gold?!” your father exclaims in shock as his hand reaches for your heavy necklace. “So because of you most of Ravka is starving?”

Too occupied with the jewellery, your parents don’t notice the palace guards stepping forward to arrest them for such an accusation aimed at the queen. Nikolai spares them a meaningful look, waving them off. In his heart, he agrees with them.

“Actually, this is a gift from a businessman in Kerch,” you say quietly. Suddenly, you remember why you’ve never visited them since your wedding.

“Still, don’t you think this is a little distasteful?”

Your mother places her hand on your father’s shoulder. “She’s always been vain, darling,” she reminds him.

You’re not a queen anymore - at least you don’t feel like it. All of the gold, silk and jewels are gone and you’re back to being a scared, little girl with hay stuck in her hair. Tears sting your eyes.

Whatever you do is wrong. All of your efforts are underwhelming. Maybe they’d be happier if you weren’t there.

"You're crying?” your father asks with a hint of disgust in his voice. “Oh, don't be so sensitive, you know we’re only joking!” He’s still holding your necklace in his fingers, admiring the glistening crystals. Standing so close to you, he lowers his voice significantly to appear inconspicuous but Nikolai manages to pick up his calloused words. “Pull yourself together, this is embarrassing.”

As she usually does, your mother brings the attention back to herself. “She can be a bit much at times, so I hope you’re a patient one!”

The guards exchange questioning looks, silently asking one another if they should intervene this time. Most of the time they follow Tolya and Tamar’s steps but they’re left to their own devices on this day as Nikolai ordered the twins to take a day off. Perhaps it’s for the best - they’d surely escalate this already uncomfortable situation but it’s only because they care.

“I’d say it’s quite the opposite,” Nikolai answers, unaffected. Despite his speaking to your mother, he’s looking into your eyes. “I can never get enough of her.”

“For most of her life, I thought she’d never get married!” your mother continues. She’s gripping your arm with much more strength than her appearance suggests. “Men don’t like them independent, stubborn and opinionated.”

Nikolai’s polite smile doesn’t falter. “Three qualities of an excellent Queen.”

Your mother laughs obnoxiously. “Just wait a few years, dear.” She pats his shoulder. The guards look between themselves again. “You’ll be quick to send her off just like we were!”

Both of your parents laugh wholeheartedly while you and Nikolai exchange knowing looks. Now he understands why you have been so uneasy lately. This is going to be the longest three days of his life.

The perplexity continues as your mother suddenly places her hands around your waist, examining your torso in great detail. A sour expression forms on her face.

“Oh, honey, you’ve let yourself go,” she says in a worried tone. Her eyes trail the curve of your physique up until she looks at your face. With a serious glint in her eye, she advises you under her breath: “You can’t get fat and slobby if you want to keep the king.” 

The man who announced your parents appears again but this time he walks all the way to the stairs leading up to the throne, although doesn’t dare climb them. His facial expression borders on emotionless and serious as though he’s more of a marble statue rather than a servant.

“Your most royal Highness.” The man bows deeply. “The room is prepared.”

“Excellent.” Nikolai uses the opportunity to cut the awkward conversation short in a diplomatic way. “Escort our guests to their chamber.” 

“Right away, мой царь.”

When the butler disappears around the corner with your parents apprehensively following him, Nikolai looks at you with a grim expression. 

“Are they usually like this?” he asks, disapproval hiding between his words.

“They’re worse at home,” you answer with a shrug. A lot of terrible feelings and thoughts you were convinced you had left behind are coming back and you’re unsure how to handle that.

“You’ve put up with this kind of disrespect for your whole life?”

“It’s not disrespect, just…” you hang your voice looking for the right expression, “tough love. They don’t mean any harm.”

“Don’t mean any harm?” he repeats in disbelief. “They’ve been here for fifteen minutes and they are yet to say something nice to you. Neither of them even asked whether you’re doing alright.”

A short, troubled sigh leaves your lips. Your fingers trail the golden embroidery decorating his kaftan. “I’m married to a dashing, handsome king and live in a palace. I think they know I’m doing well.”

His hand gently grabs yours, keeping it against his chest. “As much I like flattery, especially coming from you, you can’t pull wool over my eyes, love. It’s not a matter of knowing but principle. Remember our wedding? The guests kept asking how you’re doing so much, you kept saying you’re perfectly fine before they even got a chance to ask.”

The memory elicits a chuckle from you. Yes, everyone seemed to be preoccupied with making sure you were happy and satisfied. It came to such a point, you yelled at Nikolai’s cousin ‘Yes, I’m fine!’ before she gave you a weird look and asked if you wanted some vodka mixed with your champagne. Truly, the only royal thing about Marina is her ungodly fortune but maybe that’s why you’ve grown to like her a lot - she’s down to earth and easy-going.

Nikolai squeezes your hand in a gentle, reassuring manner. “Just say the word and I will personally throw them out.”

“Kolya!” You gasp at his offer but it quickly turns into laughter. “They’re my parents and your in-laws!”

“They also refuse to show care and respect towards my beloved Queen.”

That mellow, loving look in his eyes nullifies any annoyance you might feel at his stubbornness. You pull your hand out of his grasp and place it on the side of his face. Consciously or not, he slightly leans into your touch. “I appreciate your concern.” Not minding the guards in the room, you’ve grown used to their constant presence, you peck his lips shortly. “But they have just arrived. You’ll warm up to them.”

Nikolai doesn’t answer at first. He only reconnects your lips, kissing you deeper, more desperately. When you feel his hands coming up to your waist, you lean away from him. For a moment, you swear you can see a grimace of dissatisfaction on his face.

“Be decent,” you reprimand him but the wide smile you wear so well rids your words of all seriousness.

“You started this.”

“And I will finish if you play nice.”

Nikolai takes a rather long step back, away from you,  just to make a point. He’s standing with his hands behind his back, an excited grin on his face. “You make an exquisite diplomat, you know that?”

“I learned from the best.”

The time for dinner came faster than you wanted it to. Anxiety bubbled inside your chest again. Still, you continued trying to soap up your eyes with thoughts that maybe when they sit across the table from a king, they’re going to withdraw their little jabs at you. As they say: Hope is the mother of all fools. And you’re about to learn that.

Nikolai raises his cup with wine. “A toast to our beloved Queen,” he announces in an official tone. Out of the corner of his eye, he spares you an adoring look. “Without her, I’d be a lonely, perplexed king. May we not know the world without her.”

To your horror, your father decides to join him. “May she get a grip and come to her senses.”

The dry wine tastes even more bitter as you take what’s supposed to be a celebratory sip. What if he’s right about you? It’s only the beginning of the evening and you already wish you can miraculously vanish or, worst case scenario, just run away. 

You’re about to take a bite of the roasted pheasant on your plate when your mother looks at you with raised eyebrows. She points her fork between you and the plate. “Should you really be eating all of this?” 

You don’t answer her. Whatever you say will only egg her on. Get a grip, you scold yourself and clench your fist to push fingernails into the sensitive skin of your palm. The pain is distracting, grounding.

 "You know, sweetheart, you're not getting any younger,” your mother continues. She always does that - throwing poignancies one after another and seeing what sticks. Now, when she’s literally the mother of the queen, she’s even bolder than before.

“Mother-”

“Don’t interrupt me.” She points her knife at you. “All I’m saying is as a wife, especially the queen, you have only one duty and you shouldn’t wait with it. Things will only get more difficult as you age.”

Nikolai gives your mother a bright smile. “Have no worries,” he cuts in. “We’re not waiting.”

You almost drop your fork. Flustering people is definitely one of his strategies but must he really involve your sex life in his word games? Although mortified at his bluntness, you must admit it works - your mother’s face is about the same shade as the roasted tomatoes on her plate. She casts her eyes downwards, poking at the food in front of her.

The air is filled with awkward tension but Nikolai doesn’t seem to mind in. In fact, he looks quite proud of himself. You, on the other hand, aren’t as good at putting up a believable front.

“So,” you begin in hopes of easing the atmosphere”, how are things back in…” You hang your voice. You were about to say ‘home’, only to realize that it would be an honest lie. The little town where you grew up hasn’t been home in years. “...Tamboyevka?”

“Oh, you know,” your mother says as she makes a dismissive wave with her hand. “Same old, same old. Cattle and field, nothing interesting to someone of your sort, I presume! There’s never been much use of you anyway.”

Listening to your mother’s condescending words, you push your fingernails further into the skin of your hand to distract yourself from the feeling of shame that continues to grow inside your stomach and pull you down with it. Maybe the marble floor will swallow you whole in the next few minutes and all of this will be over.

Then you feel Nikolai’s warm hand sneak between your palms, breaking up your painful distraction. He leans towards you ever so slightly and whispers:

“I’d much rather you pinch and scratch my hand than hurt yourself.”

You look at his concerned face. Words of reassurance, ‘Don’t worry, I’m alright’, nearly push past your lips when your father chimes in, continuing the conversation.

“But your brother, he bought some land down south,” he announces with excitement.

“More land?” you ask. “Ha barely manages with what he already has.”

The memory of your brother’s tired, grey face flashes before your eyes. Every time you see him, he looks even sicker than before as though he never sleeps or eats, only works in the field. He even collapsed on one July day and your parents kept saying that this is a sign of an honest, hard-working man but you weren’t as quick to call a man throwing up everything he eats ‘healthy’.

“You know how he is, always helping others.” Your mother is beaming with pride as if she’s the one doing the farming. “His crops feed two villages and it’s not nearly enough for him! Said he wanted tomatoes and citruses.”

Then it hits you. It’s not a revelation in any way but rather something you don’t think about too often - most of Ravka doesn’t get fruits in winter, especially the ones growing in warmer climates near the Shu Han border. And you not only can easily get it even when snow covers the grassy fields but you’re essentially fed it. Like that one time, you shared a tangerine with Nikolai while sitting in front of a fire, talking about unimportant things.

Despite your mother sitting right in front of you, her voice echoed in your head as though she’s a phantom haunting your thoughts and not a real person: Selfish. Spoiled. Entitled. Ungrateful. People starve because of you.

You focus on Nikolai’s warm, rough hand that’s still holding your own. The pleasant sensation is gradually grounding you, pulling you out of your head and into the present moment.

“What for?” you ask as casually as you can, not giving in to the spiralling thoughts. It still feels like you’re underwater, desperately gasping for air as your lungs burn. Squeezing Nikolai’s hand, you break the surface of the vicious tides trying to drown you in panic and shame.

Your mother, on the other hand, appears completely oblivious to your plight. “Some child told him they’d like oranges and he couldn’t say no. He’s wonderful, truly. A living Saint! What a blessing to call him my son. You should take a serious cue from him, young lady.” She waves the tip of her knife in your direction again. “But enough about your brother. What do you do when you’re not wasting time? Lay around and smell nice?”

“Well,” you swallow nervously, already knowing that she won’t be satisfied with your answer, “I meet a lot of people, take correspondence, travel across the country or read if I find the time.”

Nikolai must notice the telling crease of disappointment between your mother’s eyebrows. He joins the conversation under a skilful facade of a proud, boasting husband. “Don’t sell yourself short, love. Our Queen,” he puts strange stress on the title, “has started a scholarship for disadvantaged children, takes the time to teach young girls sewing, foreign languages and arithmetic.”

“That’s quite useless, isn’t it?” your mother looks between you and your father, not acknowledging Nikolai’s presence. She keeps stabbing the roasted pheasant on her plate with a fork as though there’s still life inside the poor poultry. “Shouldn’t you try harder?” she hisses at you. “If you continue being this lazy, the whole kingdom will fall apart! What will our neighbours say then?”

Nikolai suddenly gets up. He’s still holding your hand but you can’t be sure whether he’s doing that on purpose or if it’s just an unconscious reflex. The candlelight from the crystal chandelier cascades off his face, pronouncing the clenched muscles of his jaw - he’s angry and barely holding it in.

“Our meeting at this table is adjourned,” he announces in a firm voice. “This is beyond unacceptable. I have overlooked your transgressions simply because of your affinity to my wife. Still, I am disheartened and disappointed with the way you address your queen in her own home. The guards will escort you back to your chambers.”

You hear your mother and father trying to argue and protest, saying something about you being ‘too proud’ and ‘forgetting your place’ but you’re so dumbfounded you can’t make out the details. The guards lead them out of the dining room through one of the tall pairs of doors. When they close behind them, everything goes silent - the brick walls muffle any turmoil your parents might be causing.

Suddenly, your throat constricts. It’s hard to take a breath. Has it always been so hot in here? The tips of your fingers tingle, blood never reaching them.

He threw them out and you didn’t say anything. If they didn’t hate you before, they surely do now. You’re a disappointment, not their child. They haven’t done anything wrong, after all. You’re no good, useless, ungrateful, dramatic.

Suffocating with panic, you run out of the room through a different pair of doors, across the dining hall from the ones behind which your parents had recently disappeared. You hear Nikolai’s footsteps behind you but they are muffled by the noise of bloodflow ringing in your ears.

“Hey, talk to me,” he calls out in a soft voice. You turn around to look at him. His hand is almost at the height of your shoulder but it momentarily drops as though he just backed out from touching you. “What’s going on?”

For a man as smart as him, that’s a really stupid question.

“Why did you do that, Nikolai?” you snap at him.

His eyebrows furrow slightly. A gasp of disbelief brushes past his lips - he clearly thought the two of you were on the same page. “They were insulting you over and over again. I couldn’t just sit and listen to that.”

Truly, you should have expected that. He’s been adamant about standing up to your parents from the very beginning. Still, you’re angry that he just had to be stubborn and do the one thing you explicitly asked him not to do.

“What happened to laugh at insults? Isn’t that your own advice?”

“It is.” Nikolai finally finds it in himself to place his hands on your shoulders. “But I found myself unable to remain collected when the bitter words were aimed at you.” His palms brush against your dress and the skin of your neck until they’re cradling your face.

“I can,” you state firmly. “You should have let me handle this, I’m used to this.”

You escape his loving grasp and he lets you. Walking forward away from him, you’re not quite sure where exactly you’re heading. ‘Away’ would be a lovely direction but quite impossible when you’re confined to those four walls of marble and gold.

“You shouldn’t be,” Nikolai calls out after you.

Suddenly, you halt. You look at him around your shoulder. “What?”

“You shouldn’t be used to being treated like this,” he says in a defeated tone while walking towards you again. “They just keep putting you down, humiliating you. You’re not even slightly upset about that?”

“Of course, I am but…” you hang your voice, finally questioning your own feelings towards your parents. “It’s unfair for me to be angry with them. Ungrateful. I never went hungry or cold. They gave me medication when I was sick and made sure I went to school. Every year they’d give me something for my birthday. Neither of them has ever raised their hand against me. They’ve done all they could to give me a good life. Who am I to complain?”

“You’re the Queen,” he drones the word. His hand holds the side of your face again, thumb lovingly brushing your cheek. “People say your name in the same breath as the names of all the Saints. When I don’t know what to do or what decision to make, I always ask myself what you would do. And I’ve never once regretted that. There are important people who have agreed to my invitation only after hearing that you’ll be there too. You change everything. So you get to be angry when someone refuses to see that. I know you can take a few mean words but I don’t want you to.”

For a moment, the two of you stand in comfortable, intimate silence. Your absent gaze is stuck to the floor as you’re pondering his words. Whenever you’re about to accept that maybe, just maybe, you’re doing something good and important, the voice of your mother echoes inside your head: ‘Vain’. But Nikolai wouldn’t lie to you, would he? At least not in those circumstances.

“Can you keep a secret?” he speaks up quietly, bringing your attention back to him.

“Don’t tell me you put a wild racoon in my parent’s bedroom,” you joke, surprising yourself at your newly-found humour.

He scrunches his nose. “Alright, can you keep two secrets?” The echo of the empty halls carries your bright laughter. “To be honest, I wanted to marry you the moment you argued with me about stealing that merchant frigate in Kerch.”

“I could tell,” you answer with a slow nod. “You had a really stupid look on your face, all dazed and absent. In fact, you wore the same one on our wedding day.”

Nikolai’s lips turn into a playful smile and he’s about to say something definitely smart and smooth but a servant interrupts him:

“Your most royal highness,” she says nervously as she curtsies, “your mother wishes to see you. She seems thoroughly upset, if I may say so.” Judging by her fearful, wide-open eyes, she must have gotten a taste of your parents' hurt ego.

Anxiety once again floods your mind. Maybe you should go, apologize and pray they won’t go on a tirade about ‘raising you differently’. But then you hear Nikolai inconspicuously but meaningfully clear his throat.

‘You’re the queen’, his voice echoes in your head. A queen doesn’t cower and bow her head, does she?

“Tell her I don’t take visitations tonight,” you order the servant.

“Right away, моя царица.” She can’t hide the waver in her voice. Judging by her already fearful demeanour, she can guess quite well what will happen the moment she relays the information.

Yes, you will have to warn your parents that they actually can’t hurl insults at your servants. It’s going to be challenging, yes, but this newfound confidence is a ferocious beast, driving you to own up to the title of the queen - not in the way your mother and father want you to but in a way that you need to.

“Oh, one more thing.” The girl immediately stops and turns around at the sound of your voice. “Make sure they don’t leave their wing until either of us says so. I don’t want them wandering around my home.”

“Of course, my Queen.”

The servant bows again and leaves the two of you in a rushed step. Nikolai waits until she disappears around the corner to let his hand drop to the small of your back. He leans in close, indecently so. “I love it when you get all commanding,” he whispers against your neck.

An airy laugh leaves your lips as he pecks the soft skin behind your ear.

____

мой царь [mo-ee tzar] -> my tsar/king

моя царица [mo-ya tsa-ree-tsa] -> my tsaritsa/queen

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Perhaps It's Time (Doctor Who)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ ONLY / requests are open and encouraged

Summary: You think you're finally ready to have your cherry popped.

CW: virgin!reader, sort of implied smut, discussions around sex

Doctor Who Tag List: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

It’s not necessarily something you’d thought about a whole lot. You just assumed like most other people that you’d be ready when you were ready. It wasn’t for lack of interest, either. You’d had partners before, but you were younger then, and while conceptually the idea of sex was appealing- when it got down to it, you just weren’t ready. 

But that was then and this was now. 

You’d been travelling with the Doctor for at least a year. Probably longer, if you really stopped to think about it. The two of you had gotten together sometime around month six or seven, and you hadn’t looked back since. 

The Doctor was the best partner you could ask for. He took you on plenty of dates, made sure you had tasty things to eat, gave you cuddles whenever he could, and was very respectful of all your wishes and boundaries. 

He’d never so much as laid a hand on your thigh with sexual intentions. And yes, while this was good at the beginning of your relationship, you were finding yourself growing more frustrated by the day with his lack of instigation. 

“Hey, uh, Doctor?” You ask him, surprising yourself as the words slip past your mouth. The being in question turned towards you, a stick of red liquorice hanging out of his mouth. He hummed as an invitation for you to go on. “How come you haven’t- uh, how come we haven’t… you know.” 

The Doctor’s brows furrow in confusion, and he removes the liquorice from his mouth, clearly resisting the urge to play with it. 

“Oh, erm- haven’t really thought about it,” he replies, making the short trip over to stand before you. “That’s not me saying I don’t want to. I want to. Oh yes, I want to.” This is the first time you’ve noticed that lustful gleam in his eye, the colour darkening just a shade as he looks you over hungrily. 

Your cheeks flush a shade darker. Just enough to be noticed. Your eyes are trained on his lips and the way he licks them as though he’s thinking about all the ways he could make you come undone with his mouth alone. Let’s be real, though, it wasn’t like you hadn’t been thinking about that since you got together either. 

“So why haven’t we?” You ask breathily. The Doctor crowds you up against the console of the TARDIS, getting as close as he can without making you uncomfortable (as if he ever could). He gives you enough room to move out and away if you need to. Always so considerate of your feelings, the Doctor was. 

“Well,” he replies, brushing a finger down your cheek softly. “Thought you weren’t ready. ‘Sides, I don’t mind waiting. I’m here for you, and you can take as long as you need to. I’m not going anywhere, am I?” 

The change in tone from dark and lustful to soft and caring almost gives you whiplash, but you also appreciate it. How could you ever fall for anyone else? Answer, you couldn’t. Maybe you’d never had your cherry popped because you were simply waiting for the Doctor.

“I think I’m ready,” you say, biting at your lip. The Doctor grins, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. He pulls away and kisses you hard on the mouth. His lips still taste of liquorice and you melt against him. 

“I- I don’t want to right now,” you add dazedly when he gives you space to breathe. You’re flushed from head to toe, heart swelling with happiness. “But I’m ready, I think. For when we want to.” And when you have the time. That prerequisite was also pretty important for something like this. 

“I don’t need it to be special, just- when it happens it happens.” 

The Doctor winked, sticking his red liquorice back into his mouth with a wide grin. 

“Sounds spontaneous. I like it.” 

You bet he does.

[osachiyo]

You adults need to grow the fuck up. I am a writer myself and i think minors should be allowed to read and interact with smut. I don’t understand what the issue is?? What’re y’all adults even “protecting”? Minors from smut? LMFAO please, I know you all watched/read porn when you were a teen, so why are WE the problem when it comes to interacting with nsfw??

i was not expecting this kind of ask today but 🤡

listen child, your first mistake was assuming that i want to protect you from porn/smut on the internet because i don’t ! i don’t know who the hell you are and it sure as hell isn’t my responsibility to protect you from these things — that’s your parents job. i could not care less about you, you are a random stranger in the internet to me as i am to you so let’s just get that out of the way 💀

secondly, you assumed that i watched porn as a teenager to which my response is absolutely not. i grew up in a very religious and strict house and wasn’t even allowed to have my own phone until i was 16 so that’s that. and i didn’t even LIKE porn, and i still don’t to this day. seeing naked women and men is not my thing, that’s why i READ it ! and honestly, you should not be proud to watch/read porn at a young age, that is not anything to boast about. especially if you have a porn addiction.

when i was a teen, i thought fanfics were cringe and nerdy as fuck, that’s why i didn’t read them 💀 and my mindset has definitely changed since then !! i didn’t start reading fanfics till i was 17 and my go-to was wattpad :) i was reading haikyuu fluff and heavy angst series’s because i wasn’t interested in lemon/smut.

thirdly, you think you’re so mature but you can’t even comprehend that people have boundaries, and you should follow those boundaries. not letting minors follow me is my boundary and im sticking to it. i couldn’t give a shit if you feel attacked or left out because of a simple boundary that a random ass stranger on the internet has ! and wanna know the funny thing? you could always read the fic and not interact with it so you don’t get blocked 🤯 shocking, isn’t it? now go and do your damn homework 💀

[poohsources]

🐝  *  ―  𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑳𝑬𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑫 𝑶𝑭 𝑲𝑶𝑹𝑹𝑨 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.

❛  so, i sort of started a civil war ...  ❜ ❛  i am so sorry for turning my back on you as my mentor.  ❜ ❛  i needed to understand what real suffering was, so i could become more compassionate to others.  ❜ ❛  what's the big idea with making me train this early in the morning? the morning is evil.  ❜ ❛  oh, i'm sorry. did i put you in a difficult position by fighting the giant force of pure evil that was going to destroy the whole world? maybe your administration could have handled that.  ❜ ❛  fighting is something the old me would do. that always made things worse.  ❜ ❛  let's go on a vacation, just the two of us. anywhere you want.  ❜ ❛  it's all right. people usually assume that i'm daddy's helpless little girl, but i can handle myself.  ❜ ❛  the world is in trouble ... i have to go help.  ❜ ❛  i'm impressed. no one has ever gotten the better of me like that.  ❜ ❛  i assure you, i have a plan. and i'm saving you for last; then you'll get your duel, and i will destroy you.  ❜ ❛  when we hit our lowest point, we are open to the greatest change.  ❜ ❛  i did what i had to do to survive and protect my little brother.  ❜ ❛  and ... what am i going to find if ... i get through this?  ❜ ❛  we should always learn from those who came before us, but we must also forge our own path.  ❜ ❛  why don't you come and find out?  ❜ ❛  if you look for the light, you can often find it. but if you look for the dark, that is all you will ever see.  ❜ ❛  you need to make decisions based on what you want. don't make the same mistakes i did.  ❜ ❛  i don't know what i'm supposed to be doing half the time.  ❜ ❛  right, friends. no, no, i didn't mean to imply.  ❜ ❛  i do like the idea of putting you on a train and sending you far, far away.  ❜ ❛  you need me, but i don't need you.  ❜ ❛  you swore your loyalty to me and i gave you a chance at greatness. this is how you repay me?  ❜ ❛  i told you dating a teammate would be a bad idea.  ❜ ❛  stick around five minutes and you'll find out who's bluffing.  ❜ ❛  wait! we can't fight them all. we need to be smart about this.  ❜ ❛  you know, it's okay to be scared. the important thing is to talk about our fears, because if we don't, they throw us out of balance. i'm always here for you, if you want to talk.  ❜ ❛  what i'm trying to say is, as much as you drive me crazy ... i also think you're pretty amazing.  ❜ ❛  see, that's what i admire about you, [ name ]: your willingness to go to extremes in order to get what you want. it is a quality we both share.  ❜ ❛  ending a relationship is kind of like pulling off a bloodsucking leech. you just gotta rip it off and get it over with. you'll feel a lot better afterwards. trust me.  ❜ ❛  don't tell me you are still mad about everything that happened?! i did some good things, too!  ❜ ❛  all right, hold on. will you quit ignoring me and tell me what's going on?  ❜ ❛  how about, for now, i just promise not to show up at your house and attack you again?  ❜ ❛  what would you do, if you were in charge? help me be more like you.  ❜ ❛  i wish you were putting up more of a fight, but it was still fun.  ❜ ❛  please, just let me say one thing, then i'll never contact you again.  ❜ ❛  i'm not sure i'll ever be able to forgive you. but that doesn't mean i shouldn't try.  ❜ ❛  i came here to look you in the eye and tell you that you have no power over me. i will no longer be scared of you.  ❜ ❛  but if you had any other options, you wouldn't be here now, would you? we may have been enemies once, but for now, our interests align.  ❜ ❛  you don't have to apologize for anything. i'm just so happy you're here now.  ❜

[snapscube]

you don't have to publish this or whatever but I wanted to say, I'm right there with u on Projects That I Put On A Schedule And Then Couldn't Stick To That Schedule. it kinda sucks (especially, I imagine, if you have an audience asking about the things; being unknown has its pros and cons) but at the end of the day imo trying is the important thing and doing it infrequently is better than not at all. keep doing you and put out what you can and want, when you can and want, and people will enjoy it regardless of frequency or scheduling or whatever

hey i appreciate this a ton <3 admittedly i was very grumpy over the assumption that just because no shame was intended w/ asking me like that about projects i haven't updated in a while that it would mean no shame was caused LOL. it's actually, in a cruel twist of irony, something i have very specifically been insecure about over the past couple of days and i already wasn't having the best morning in general. whoops!

i think a lot of people assume by default i am a much more put-together person than i actually am just because i have some semblance of success haha. truth be told everything that i am able to put out is a god damn miracle in the sense that i am constantly fighting to do so against rampant fatigue and depression. i always always want to do more, and i have every intention to do so. i always assume i can if i just try hard enough since it seems easy enough for other folks, which is why i sometimes over-promise. but i'm still really trying to make things fit every day, and lately i have admittedly not had a lot of success. i have not given up yet tho! i think 2024 is gonna prove to be a year where i have to call on a bit of a hail mary approach because i KNOW there's a better way than what i've been doing. whether that's through a massive output change in terms of schedule, or whether that's a huge break, or whether it's sunsetting certain parts of my online output in the interest of focusing on things i'd rather be using that limited stamina for. feels like SOMETHING's gonna have to give.

anyway, i hope to never come across like i'm taking peoples patience for granted. it always legitimately sucks when people earnestly want to see something return, and i do too, but i have no better answer to where it is aside from just "i couldn't do it"

[leitereads]

Kuroshitsuji: an analysis on "fagging" and a change of power dynamics between characters

I know how disappointed some fans are regarding the "politically correct" presentation of Ciel and the overall "fagging" culture that was common back then at elite boarding schools in the UK. From what I have heard from people slightly older than me, this was a thing that carried on into the late 90s in certain private schools. As of now, I am sorry, I don’t know anyone rich enough to ask them regarding those things.

However, what I can say about this matter is that a) this practice is can be found almost anywhere in the world (mostly in universities), b) it is about power exchange and how it leads to respecting tradition and bond with other students, c) I am part of it in my own university and d) it’s deliciously represented in Kuroshitsuji, in a way that somehow gives us a different perspective over what Ciel can and cannot do, limiting his actions, something that he, as a powerful noble, is not used to.

Fagging

In many countries and cultures cross the world, "fagging" has many different names, and many different forms. In the US you have fraternities and sororities, here in my country you have the "Praxe". In the UK you have (had?) fagging, in which consisted exactly on younger students doing most part of domestic tasks that were supposed to be made by older students. The older the students were, the more power and status they gained inside the institution, and therefore the more privileges they had. In consequence, although these fags didn’t have an easy life, they still had some sort of protection and status themselves for serving someone older. This creates an hierarchy based on age, more specifically just academic age.

Ciel, as being someone young is, of course, at the base of this hierarchical system. Someone who is used to be at the top of the hierarchical ladder is going to struggle to adapt to a new environment, one in which he simply cannot understand/agree with the traditions imposed. This will create a certain obstacle at first, because he needs to learn how to navigate in a different society so different and, at the same time, so similar to the one he belongs to: the only difference being where he stands. And we see Ciel, for the second time in his life, working himself from the the way down to the way up.

In the first time, his birth condition (well, let’s assume we are speaking about Ciel’s condition, and not o!Ciel’s one at least) gave him a kickstart in life: a manor, monetary goods, a title. In this case, he is a mere 1st year student, and he must subjugate himself to the desires (sometimes sadistic) of older students, especially Clayton at first.

Psychological Implications

It may be complicated from Ciel, even more taking in consideration how prideful he is, to swallow that pride and abide by traditions he a) doesn’t relate to b) finds useless and c) seeing himself without a lot of power to swiftly surpass those obstacles. Ciel is not there in order to live the academic traditions that are present around him, nor to make friends, of course. And, in the end, fagging and these other academic traditions open the door to just that: when people suffer together they usually stick together. This is the meaning of fagging, Praxe, and all the other academic traditions listed. And this is not what he is searching for. Which puts a little bit of strain on him, and he ultimately might think they are extremely childish and ridiculous.

Another interesting aspect of this overall power exchange here is that Sebastian is in a higher position of power than Ciel, as opposed to their base situation. This is, of course, extremely debatable, and the power that each one of them holds in their master/servant (no, I am not talking about that sort of thing… eww) is quite mutable, and, at times, one may hold more control over the other, and that is changing. Here we have a third factor contributing to that mutable power exchange: a different environment, where Sebastian’s position allows him to be seen as more respectable. And this is extremely delicious to see when he lets Ciel undergoing the initiation ritual with the bedsheets and being thrown: Sebastian is, obviously, enjoying himself at the expense of his master’s suffering, since in normal situations he simply cannot do that, at least not as frequently. To Sebastian this is cathartic, and to Ciel (Sebastian’s master) this must feel extremely insolent. Especially because Ciel is someone who likes to always be in control, having in consideration all he went through.

Undergoing this traditional upbringing will, hopefully, provide Ciel either the necessary tools regarding being more self-reliant and independent when it comes to Sebastian because, even if the demon is able to help him out with all the domestic tasks that he needs to do, who knows what will happen when Ciel loses (even if just temporarily) Sebastian one day (which, as another post explained, it might happen sooner than we think).

By being a fag and by navigating a position in which he is in a lower position, Ciel can’t find many shortcuts to success, and he will need to a) rely on his interpersonal skills, b) make connections with other students, c) be aware of what’s going on, socially, around him (read the room) and d) use his insight more than the sheer force and threats of Sebastian.

[borderlinebrunetteblog]

On a bad day with BPD....

I might repeatedly call or text you if you don’t respond quickly, fearing you’re abandoning me.

One day, I might think you’re the best person ever, and the next, I might feel like you’ve let me down completely.

I often feel unsure about who I am, like I change my opinions and goals frequently without knowing why.

I might impulsively spend money I don’t have or engage in risky behavior, like driving recklessly, drug use, or casual sex.

I might threaten to harm myself or engage in drug use as a way to cope.

My mood can swing from feeling extremely happy to deeply sad within a matter of minutes.

I often feel like there’s a void inside me, no matter how much I try to fill it with activities or relationships.

I might get incredibly angry over small issues and have trouble calming down, leading to outbursts or arguments or an "episode" of violent anger.

I might start to doubt your intentions or feel detached from reality, like I'm not fully present.

I might become overly clingy, needing constant physical presence or validation from you, and feeling abandoned if you have other commitments.

I can get fixated on small details and overanalyze your words and actions, reading negative meanings into neutral statements.

If I feel slighted, I might withdraw completely, ignoring you as a way to protect myself from perceived rejection.

I might compare myself to others and feel intensely inadequate, leading to sudden mood drops.

I might try to test your loyalty, creating scenarios or conflict to see if you'll stick around, which can be exhausting for both of us.

I might make grand plans for the future with you, only to back out later because I feel overwhelmed or uncertain.

If I sense any criticism, even constructive, I might react defensively or shut down, feeling deeply hurt and misunderstood.

I might have fleeting but intense thoughts that you’re plotting against me or don’t have my best interests at heart.

If you don't answer a text or call right away, I might start to feel a physical ache in my chest and assume the worst and think you're ignoring or leaving me.

When you eventually reply, I might react with a mix of relief and anger, questioning why you took so long and fearing you didn’t want to talk to me in the first place.

If I see you smiling or laughing with someone else, I might feel an intense pang of jealousy and sadness, thinking I’m being replaced or that you find others more enjoyable to be around.

I might become excessively accommodating, going out of my way to please you or meet your needs, even at the expense of my own well-being; this can lead to me feeling unappreciated or taken advantage of if my efforts aren’t reciprocated.

During arguments, I might say hurtful things or bring up past grievances, not because I truly feel that way, but because I’m trying to protect myself from feeling vulnerable or rejected.

I might push you away deliberately, testing your commitment to see if you’ll come back, to see if you will abandon me.

If I feel overwhelmed by my emotions, I might isolate myself, avoiding interaction because I’m afraid of how I might react or how you’ll perceive me.

I might withdraw all affection and become distant, leaving you confused about where you stand with me.

I might need constant reassurance about your feelings for me, repeatedly asking if you still care or if I’m still important to you.

But...

On a good day with BPD...

I offer a level of empathy that feels exceptionally deep, picking up on people's emotions with remarkable sensitivity and providing comfort in a way that feels very personal.

My gestures of affection can be more passionate than usual, with grand, thoughtful acts that show just how much I care.

You'll also see my enthusiasm for activities become very contagious, turning even ordinary moments into something special and exciting.

My creativity will come to the forefront, leading to spontaneous and inventive ideas that make time together memorable.

I will be highly engaged in our conversations, sharing deep insights that connect with your experiences.

Celebrating your successes will likely become a big event for me, as I express genuine joy and pride in your achievements.

My emotional highs can drive me to take on new projects or plan events with a lot of energy and commitment.

my heightened emotional responsiveness equips me with unique problem-solving abilities.

I approach challenges with a deep understanding of your needs, offering intuitive and effective solutions that address your concerns in a meaningful way.

and I'm not crazy...

and I deserve to be loved.

[writingwisterias]

How about something more fluffy, romantic, and maybe a little funny for a change involving B.O.W! Reader? With just Chris?

B.O.W! Reader has a crush on Chris, so they follow him everywhere like a lost puppy. Chris thinks that B.O.W! Reader wants to kill him but in reality, they're lonely and in desperate need for company.

Thank you for the request! I mean I always viewed the requests as Angst as that's just where my mind went but this is a cute idea! I decided to go with a Hybrid BOW as well but because I think it's funny I did a moth Hybrid as I am obsessed with mothman and how cute he looks! I have also left it open so I can continue this as a one-shot because I love this so much so let me know if that's something you are interested in! .... Hope you enjoy! ~ Mads <3

Chris Redfield X Moth Hybrid!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: None

He could feel something following him almost instantly as he moved through the abandoned Umbrella Lab he was ordered to clear out of any BOW's. His flashlight illuminated the hallway as he walked down them but everytime he turned around to check behind him there wasn't anything there. It was almost like a Ghost was following him.

You however was drawn to the bright light, it was a beacon as soon as you saw it and you were excited to try and catch up to it. You ran down the corridors like it was a game hiding everytime he spun around to look at what he assumed was following him. All you had to do was hide in the shadows the flashlight didn't illuminate and keep really still.

Chris was trying to focus on the enemies in front of him but was scared that he would be attacked from behind by whatever was following him, growing increasingly frustrated that he couldn't see anything and set off to find the generator room for a peace of mind. You however knew that there was a missing fuse and went to find it for him.

When he found the generator room that was the first time he saw you. He groaned loudly at the fact the fuse was missing, he knew it be missing as it was the most common method of inconvenience that enemies liked to do.

He then turned around to go and find it but jumped out of his skin letting out a defiantly manly scream at the sight of you holding out the fuse for him. After catching his breath he gingerly took it from you.

It wasn't that you were ugly like all the other monsters he had encountered whilst walking through the lab, you were actually kind of cute to him. You had little fluffy black ears sticking out from your long hair as well as bright red eyes which glared brightly in the shadows you hid in. You had small wings that looked too small for you to fly with but were still pretty, they almost looked a cape if he didn't know otherwise.

"Thanks" he spoke to you bluntly as he turned back to put the fuse in the right spot but that's all it took for you to try and be as helpful as you could to him. Being left in this place with only the creature that wouldn't hesitate to kill you is what left you to roam the shadows which you were trained to do if they ever needed to use you.

He attempted to ignore you once the power was on and just complete his job, but he also didn't want to keep you in his blind spot. You noticed this and always stayed where he can see you, collecting everything you thought might be of use to him and holding it out to him. It was anything from ammo to health items.

You were just happy to be with him, his praises and thanks kept you happy and eventually he wasn't so tense. You hadn't however spoken a word to him, so he wasn't sure if you could understand what he was saying.

He started to come across files about you though that said you did speak english, so he would start to get a conversation going. Eventually you started to talk to him, asking him a bunch of questioned as you watched him fight. Most of your questions were about the outside world making him feel bad you hadn't explored a lot of it yourself.

He had to come to a decision when he circled back to the entrance as he completed his task. The only BOW left was you. You watched him nervously from the shadows as he looked back at his gun and you. He eventually sighed but offered you his hand, "come with me, I'll try to hide you and keep you safe"

The smile you gave made it worth it, as you took his hand and finally left the shadows.

[pikahlua]

The problem is that even if it's supposed to be bittersweet and the message is that they can't save everyone, there are other factors in this story that make it look weird. All of AFO's major victims end up dying. Tomura being saved spiritually but not physically, becoming a martyr and "inspiring" the future generation of heroes is Tomura becoming another Yoichi. The story doesn't need another Yoichi, we already have one. If we're supposedly breaking the cycle here, wouldn't it make more sense for this "Yoichi" to actually escape AFO in full?

I do want to combine these two, because the problem is you're saying I'm implying all this stuff that I am literally on the record disagreeing with.

1. I didn't say the message IS they can't save everyone, I said that Izuku and All Might both acknowledge they can't save everyone. That's a big distinction. This is about Izuku's and All Might's sense of dissatisfaction and the solutions they come up with for this problem. What do you do WHEN you can't save everyone? That doesn't mean Tomura won't be saved. Hell, the story already posited that his heart was saved. The question is whether or not his life will be saved, and as I've said, any answer to that question can lead to an interesting outcome depending on how it's handled.

2. It is not true all of AFO's major victims die. Touya and Overhaul are alive. Himiko Toga, Spinner, and Kurogiri's statuses are currently unknown. Depending on how you wanna define "major victim," Izuku and Katsuki and All Might and Endeavor and Aoyama all survive, too. You're just talking about the vestiges (who were always dead characters) and the Shimura family.

3. I disagree that Tomura is a martyr. Just because his life inspired people doesn't make his death martyrdom. If Tomura's death sticks, he didn't die for what he believes in or to make a point or to stay true to himself. He didn't kill himself. His body was already crumbling, and AFO was about to abandon it to turn to dust. Whether or not Tomura changed his beliefs or identity in some way would have had no impact on whether or not he still would have died. He just showed up at the end to exact vengeance on AFO for what was done to him, despite the fact that they were both on their way out anyway. The only control Tomura had over his death was whether or not he'd do anything before it happened, and he did. That's a testament to his character and how he would behave in the face of death, but it's not the same thing as being a martyr. I bring this up because you're throwing a lot of assumptions about the story around as if you and I are on the same page. If anything, I've noticed I disagree with so many people on what Tomura's death even entailed, let alone the meaning behind it.

4. You have to understand, your talk about "the story doesn't need another Yoichi" and "breaking the cycle" is your reading. I never talked about breaking any cycle here. You're assuming that's the point, but I don't know if that's the point. There are many cycles that are still quite preserved in the story. Why wouldn't we need another Yoichi if another Yoichi just refers to a person who pays it forward? A person who believes in others and entrusts their legacy and dreams to them without forcing that other person to BECOME them? The story has never criticized characters for being inspiring, not even All Might. This leads into my next point.

5. I am so vocally on the record even just recently as saying I do not believe the theme is simply "this generation is better than the old one." I do not agree with the implication that Izuku getting out of All Might's shadow means his admiration is bad or part of a cycle that needs to be broken. "You're next" was a detriment to Izuku because Izuku took it as a message meant only for him when in fact it really was a message for everyone. Izuku took away a message that he should separate himself from others, but the true message was that everyone should come together. Everyone includes the old generation. The new generation is taking what the old generation gave them and improving on it with their own ideas and feelings, but they're not breaking what the old generation made. They are continuing the struggle in trying to make things better with each generation knowing that they will never see the completion of the thing they strive for. This is the natural cycle of human social struggle, and it is a struggle that will continue forever.

I'm not saying the ending as we have it now is good--because it's not even complete. I'm saying that there are things Horikoshi is consistent about, and there is POTENTIAL for Tomura's death to work well. I'm not saying Tomura is going to stay dead. The point I'm really getting at is that we can receive messages from stories all we like, but that doesn't make them the intended ones, ESPECIALLY when the story in question is not yet finished. If the Japanese readership is getting an entirely different feeling out of what's happened, it stands to reason that there are some cultural context points the western fandom is missing. I am open to the messages I read being incorrect, and I have revised my criticisms each time it has happened. I am open to learning whatever message Horikoshi has in store, no matter the outcome. And I am interested in understanding it as best I can even if my understanding is limited by my not being the intended audience. There is a lot I could be missing that I still need to learn, and it would be arrogant of me to presume I understand everything about this story's presentation the first time through. That makes it worthwhile for me to see what has remained consistent with my reading and what has not.

[deer-hearted]

Apparently, it's Gravity Falls Obsession Era 2.0 these days and I suddenly remembered I had a story to share

Question: What colour are Stanford's eyes are in-canon?

Answer: Gee, dunno, let's ask Alex Hirsch!

In 2016 me and my partner were tangled into the MOST EPIC fight over a fictional character we ever had. For artistic purposes we had to decide what colour are Ford's eyes, and - oh boy, that was tough.

Colours of choice were:

Maroon

Stanley wax figurine, which looked pretty accurate, has that maroon-ish brown-ish hue to its eyes, thus - Stanley has eyes of approximately the same colour, and so does Stanford, cause, y'know, twins

It's the most common eye color on Earth and is often paired with darker hair colours, so it's not unnatural to assume the most common option if it's not mentioned explicitly anywhere

Blue

In the episode where Ford meets Bill in a dream there's a sequence of random pictures with slightly occult characteristics that weren't given a context to later - but if the dream WAS Ford's, they have to do something with him, right? So, whose blue eye was that? Obviously, his

Okay, so Stan and Ford are twins indeed, but they don't neseccarily have to have the same eye colour - Ford already has a unique mutation, which proves their development wasn't identical and they can still have slightly different appearance traits

Yeah, Bill mistook Stan for Ford, so what? He didn't notice sixth finger suddenly went missing, what else could he overlook?

Other colours

Eh, would be interesting (green would suit him so well), but we didn't have anything else to theoritise over

After some time of heated discussions I decided to put an end to it and simply ask. I suppose, it was 11.28.2016 charity stream, because Jason and Kristen were also there, and I was really desperate cause it was 4 to 5 am already and I had to go to colledge early that day. And I indeed succeeded to get an answer, though, not the one I was looking for. It was better.

He said that since the design of the characters includes drawing their eyes as circles with tiny dots ow pupils inside and no retina at all, it doesn't even matter. It's up to OUR own interpretation. We, as fans, may decide that for ourself, and each opinion would be perfectly correct. Because being creative is more important than sticking to the Only Truth.

That morning I woke my partner up and said: "You know what? Though I still disagree, I respect your choice. You want them to be blue? Blue it is". And then there was lots of love.

This story might not have a huge piece of previously unknown lore, but it happen to taught me a very valuable lesson. Hope it would change something for someone else too

[gminervous]

On a bad day with BPD....

I might repeatedly call or text you if you don’t respond quickly, fearing you’re abandoning me.

One day, I might think you’re the best person ever, and the next, I might feel like you’ve let me down completely.

I often feel unsure about who I am, like I change my opinions and goals frequently without knowing why.

I might impulsively spend money I don’t have or engage in risky behavior, like driving recklessly, drug use, or casual sex.

When I feel overwhelmed, I might threaten to harm myself or engage in drug use as a way to cope.

My mood can swing from feeling extremely happy to deeply sad within a matter of minutes.

I often feel like there’s a void inside me, no matter how much I try to fill it with activities or relationships.

I might get incredibly angry over small issues and have trouble calming down, leading to outbursts or arguments or an "episode" of violent anger.

I might start to doubt your intentions or feel detached from reality, like I'm not fully present.

I might become overly clingy, needing constant physical presence or validation from you, and feeling abandoned if you have other commitments.

I can get fixated on small details and overanalyze your words and actions, reading negative meanings into neutral statements.

If I feel slighted, I might withdraw completely, ignoring you as a way to protect myself from perceived rejection.

I might compare myself to others and feel intensely inadequate, leading to sudden mood drops.

I might try to test your loyalty, creating scenarios or conflict to see if you'll stick around, which can be exhausting for both of us.

I might make grand plans for the future with you, only to back out later because I feel overwhelmed or uncertain.

If I sense any criticism, even constructive, I might react defensively or shut down, feeling deeply hurt and misunderstood.

I might have fleeting but intense thoughts that you’re plotting against me or don’t have my best interests at heart.

If you don't answer a text or call right away, I might start to feel a physical ache in my chest and assume the worst and think you're ignoring or leaving me.

When you eventually reply, I might react with a mix of relief and anger, questioning why you took so long and fearing you didn’t want to talk to me in the first place.

If I see you smiling or laughing with someone else, I might feel an intense pang of jealousy and sadness, thinking I’m being replaced or that you find others more enjoyable to be around.

I might become excessively accommodating, going out of my way to please you or meet your needs, even at the expense of my own well-being; this can lead to me feeling unappreciated or taken advantage of if my efforts aren’t reciprocated.

During arguments, I might say hurtful things or bring up past grievances, not because I truly feel that way, but because I’m trying to protect myself from feeling vulnerable or rejected.

I might push you away deliberately, testing your commitment to see if you’ll come back, to see if you will abandon me.

If I feel overwhelmed by my emotions, I might isolate myself, avoiding interaction because I’m afraid of how I might react or how you’ll perceive me.

I might withdraw all affection and become distant, leaving you confused about where you stand with me.

I might need constant reassurance about your feelings for me, repeatedly asking if you still care or if I’m still important to you.

But....

On a good day...

I offer a level of empathy that feels exceptionally deep, picking up on people's emotions with remarkable sensitivity and providing comfort in a way that feels very personal.

My gestures of affection can be more passionate than usual, with grand, thoughtful acts that show just how much I care.

You'll also see my enthusiasm for activities become very contagious, turning even ordinary moments into something special and exciting.

My creativity will come to the forefront, leading to spontaneous and inventive ideas that make time together memorable.

I will be highly engaged in our conversations, sharing deep insights that connect with your experiences.

Celebrating your successes will likely become a big event for me, as I express genuine joy and pride in your achievements.

My emotional highs can drive me to take on new projects or plan events with a lot of energy and commitment.

my heightened emotional responsiveness equips me with unique problem-solving abilities.

I approach challenges with a deep understanding of your needs, offering intuitive and effective solutions that address your concerns in a meaningful way.

and I'm not crazy...

and I deserve to be loved.

[bugtoonz]

Urudrf uhm can you share Hoagie HCs :3 and Chad HCs :3 I don't see you getting much attention for that post and that makes me sad so I will compensate for it

this is so thoughtful, thank you!! although honestly, i’m really happy with all of the asks i’ve gotten so far. i’m pleasantly surprised by (and thankful for!) the amount of submissions, even if it’s not a crazy amount.

i have lots of thoughts on Hoagie. he really is such a sweet, goofy kid. unfortunately though, his dad is very much dead in my eyes. Hoagie misses him a lot, but Tommy doesn’t really remember him. In Tommy’s eyes, Hoagie is kinda like his surrogate dad. Unrelated to Sad Family Stuff, I also think that before deciding to work as a field operative, Hoagie strongly considering working as a 2x4 tech inventor/engineer at either moonbase or the deep sea science lab. he quickly changed his mind when he realized being a scientist meant that he would rarely be able to pilot any of his creations. he also really wanted to stick with wally, since the two of them have known each other since pre-k (the longest friendship out of the sector!). even though lots of people assume Hoagie loves school because of his natural intelligence, he actually really dislikes it. he’d much rather learn things through experimentation or hands on experience, and he’s so smart none of his classes challenge him enough to be interesting. i can def see him taking accelerated courses throughout his entire academic career in an attempt to get it over with as soon as possible. he probably ends up majoring in something like aerospace engineering or physics.

first of all, for Chad, his middle name is Mallory. it’s something we talked about in DMs, but it is so insanely canon to me now. he’s so embarrassed by it he’s even tried to edit it out of the super big computermabob. anyways, he also plays an insane amount of instruments. mostly strings. his favorite is the bass because of how simple it is, and he plays it in the scumbucketpunks. his parents hate it, but it’s one of the few hobbies he has that he truly enjoys. i am a big believer in the The Steve is actually a decommissioned Numbuh 100 theory, so i think that being able to hang out with his old mentor outside of the teen ninja setting is something Chad really clings onto, even if it is very bittersweet. honestly, most things in Chad’s life are either very complicated or bittersweet. poor guy. but i think he’s spent so long dedicating his life to the KND, galactic or otherwise, he isn’t even really sure if he’d be able to live a normal life if given the chance. he just wishes there was someone he could talk to without having to lie around all the truths he’s being forced to hide.

[thejockout]

As time passes and I release more files, an increasing number of people DM asking whether I'd be interested in trancing them personally. A few have even requested to do this with me as an altered commission, which they'd pay for on a regular basis as I work with them! To date, I have not said yes to anyone: and I'd like to take a minute here to explain why. If you're one of the people who's asked, offered or suggested this, don't feel bad - I've never given a stance on it. But I'm doing it here now!

Reason #1: As a subject and tist, my "field of expertise" lies in pre-made mp3s. I had my dalliances with sites like Hypnosis4Guys and a few sessions over Skype/Discord back in the day, but they were almost all disastrous. Of maybe... 8/9 separate individuals, 6 violated my set boundaries (by recording me, by jerking off when we'd established it would be a sfw session, by trying to change the topic of trance to get their own suggestions in place) and I frankly have no interest as a subject in repeating this experience. So I stick to MP3s.

But that also means that I have little practical experience of live trance work on either end; I'm sure that I could improvise some BS as well as anyone else can. I'm not so down on myself that I think I'd never figure it out. But I don't have a history with it, and I'm pretty hesitant to pick anyone as my "first subject" who'd have to sit through me fumbling my way through a few sessions before I figured it all out.

Reason #2: Compared to producing 'nosis MP3s, live trance is a whoooole different ballgame intimacy-wise. And it's one I don't feel equipped for because of how seriously I'd want to take it. Needing to provide aftercare, working with safeties, ensuring a sub's comfort and ease... these are all considerations that are uniquely challenging to account for in live trance, and ones I'm very hesitant to do with a stranger as a result. Even something as simple as needing to guarantee my internet doesn't go out, or that I don't get interrupted... I wouldn't be able to live with myself if something went wrong/a subject had an abreaction when they were under for me.

Hypnosis is a tricky business, and it can dredge up unpleasant/unwanted emotions in people pretty easily if you strike the wrong chord (which, in this whole space of TF kink, is possible if not common.) I have had panic attacks a not-insignificant number of times in trance, and I know how scary it can be. I would want somebody more experienced/educated than myself to help me through it if we were trancing together.

Reason #3: To date, I don't consider I've gotten enough training to be engaging with these pseudo-therapeutic topics on a specifically one-to-one basis. I already try to step lightly around certain topics like image and self-worth in my files because I'm not a psych grad and my only "qualifications" in hypnosis or therapy are short-form courses. (I am, however, pursuing further education in hypnosis and doing a course on it right now.)

But this is complicated because the suggestions a lot of subjects in this space want, me included, can really put you in a psychological minefield. Things like habit change, strong TF ideas, ego effects and permanent change ✨... they're closely tied to our sense of identity, self, sexuality, etc, and there IS a risk of some butterfly effect when you go plucking these strings. I'm not criticising other tists for tackling these issues/themes via live sessions. Their choices are their own, and their subjects are choosing their tists just as much as the other way around... but personally, I would feel irresponsible dipping into people's minds in that way.

But then... why are files different?

Ultimately, a file is different because it's premade; I am writing a script, I'm telling you what it contains, and it's up to you to decide if that's right for you. There is no learning on the fly what I'm speaking about (assuming you read a file description), and you've at least broadly decided you like the theme I'm exploring. After pretalks and setup, a live trance is improv; even if you're working repeatedly with a subject on their specific desires, that requires a flexibility/change that demands a lot more "Navigation" of the sub's psyche than files do. It's more involved. As I said earlier, it's more intimate. And it's a lot more responsibility.

I still try to be responsible with my files. I pay attention to safeties, ethics, etc. I am wary of encouraging irresponsible behaviours without appropriate softening, and I generally temper my own desires a little when writing to avoid causing harm inadvertently. But that same caution would make live work very challenging to do well, so I haven't yet.

Sorry for the seriousness of the post, but I figured it was worthy of a full response. Thanks for reading.

[whoishotteranimepolls]

Shanks. Oh Shanks…

Yes he is kinda the guy on the beach who wasn’t lying about knowing karate.

When we meet him he’s relaxing/chilling/taking a breather in a little hidden away port to get away from the Navy. This is in a world where stories about Pirates (and many actual Pirates) are about how much chaos and pain and destruction they bring simply looking for treasure. But not Shanks and not in Foosha.

He puts people at ease because there is no reason to antagonize or bully the locals. He spends his days flirting it up at the bar. When someone does come looking for a fight, he’s not easily baited either. Some things aren’t worth it, a message he teaches Luffy. It takes a kidnapping for Shanks to step up and remind everyone that not only is he a real pirate, but a dangerous one at that.

He also has scars. Very sexy scars. And they don’t seem to turn him bitter or spur him on life. His facial scarring is a lesson about how there are people who will never fight fair and if you’re going to get anywhere you should recognize and respond appropriately. And they really give some character and contrast to him. I really can’t explain why. He also SCARIFICED HIS ARM FOR A CHILD. This man jumps into the ocean knowing full well there is a legit sea monster waiting for a snack and swims out to save a boy who had idolized him, acted out, and eaten Shanks’ treasure. What kind of Pirate risks life and limb for a kid who took their most powerful possession? THEN!! Then this man is able to TURN BACK THE SEA MONSTER WITH A LOOK. That’s all! Just a very intense look saying “you may be called a Sea King but I am an Emperor so get!” (Ps he’s not an emperor yet) And it works!!

Now yes, he is a total slut. I personally subscribe to a specific endgame ship where such behavior changes when he falls in love but man is always going to have his manwhore vibe. But they are the best? Like he’s not creeping or forceful about it. He knows he’s attractive and he knows what parties interested in a night (or so) of fun look like. And if he were in this world now or back during the golden age of piracy, I would be like “yeah walking STD” but it seems like everyone whose anyone in One Piece has a capable doctor. If he did catch something he’d appropriatly take care of it.

Shanks is also not completely irresponsible. Man is captain of a ship with a crew and fleet who like him and believe in him. He makes world altering decisions on the regular. He has been granted audiences with the 5 elders. He fights other Emperors. He’s been playing a long game. His first teacher was the Pirate King. Yes, Beckmann definitely keeps things on track at times but Shanks isn’t like a toddler running in all the directions at once. He’s got a plan and he’s been sticking to it. And it’s been working really well.

As for the showers: I personally never thought about it but…in the world of One Piece every ship is complete with all the luxuries of life. This means Red Force is bound to have baths/showers. Shanks isn’t a DF eater so he can take baths and I assume while he might not everyday he does regularly. Plus with a man whose identity/brand is tied to his hair, he’s not letting that get grimy and greasy and dirty. I do believe there is some dependable vanity here which Zoro would lack.

TLDR; Shanks may initially look like a scary threat based on reputation, build, and scaring, but he has a gift for putting people at ease so they see him as some beach bum. But right below that his dangerous aura is ready to burst out when needed (usually in aide of a friend/ally or for his plan). He is an intelligent man who knows what is happening in the World and a very talented swordsman. And the layer below is someone who clearly loves life and all the wonderful things it can offer.

In summary: he has a genuine peacefulness about him that makes him feel safe (when not actively fighting as I mean “peaceful” in relation to being capible of great violence.) and he’s just sexy as sin.

For context, they're responding to this post about Shanks

That's the dichotomy of shakes. He goes from complete dork

To the absolutely terrifying Emperor of the Sea.

People like to talk about the yesification and glow-up of most of the characters post-time skip. The most prominent glow-up to me was the dedorkification of shanks. That man was a complete dork for most of the pre-time skip. Now in Wano. What happened?

He's got a whole new jawline and everything

But at least he still has his dorky moments

[ryuichirou]

hiiii!!! It's been so long since I done one of these!!!

But I need silly thoughts,,,,

Okay so Floyd can probably most likely go into heat since he is an eel? Right?

So like,,,, hear me out

What do you guys think about Heat!Floyd going after Riddle?

~ 💙 Anon!

It’s so good to see you again, 💙 Anon! Thank you for sticking around, supporting us and sending asks. Sorry for a late reply~

Apparently the procreation of actual eels is quite a complicated process that is difficult to apply to mermen (although I am 100% sure that Yana has everything figured out lol), so what I’m about to describe is very vaguely related to actual eel anatomy… but such inconveniences are never going to stop us lol let Floyd get uncontrollably horny and jump Riddle!

Floyd is quite flirty and sexually active in general, as long as he is in the mood, so in theory, his “heat” wouldn’t change much, but this is actually wrong. The desire to mate becomes too strong for Floyd and it affects his well-being tremendously. Sometimes it’s bearable, and sometimes Azul and Jade (who surprisingly don’t have as much problems with their own cycles) have to pretty much lock him up in his room until he calms down. Floyd also becomes more aggressive and clingy at the same time, his mood swings get even more extreme than usual. He also becomes apathetic to everything other than his one interest (sex), which makes him eat less and become even more irritable because of that.

Riddle doesn’t know much about mermen’s anatomy, and he doesn’t usually see Floyd all that often when such things happen to him. He just assumes that Floyd is being lazy again, and that’s why he skips classes. Or that Floyd is just being his Floyd self, and this is why he is so aggressive. But one time when he sees Floyd sitting on the floor all by himself, he’ll feel bad and concerned about him and ask if anything is wrong… and this is going to be his demise lol

While being chaotic in his usual state, Floyd would still try to find a nice place for them to have sex. But when he is this uncontrollably horned up, he’ll just start touching Riddle right there, which is honestly kind of dangerous for both of them lol but his mind would go blank the moment he sees Riddle, who he has both romantic affection and sexual desire for.

This isn’t the only reason why he would jump Riddle though. Riddle is small, cute, soft and pleasant to touch, very reactive and sensitive. He is also terribly freaked out by Floyd but Floyd would honestly just get more horny because of that lol

What scared Riddle the most at first was Floyd’s animalistic hungry stare. It was as if he was both angry at him and incredibly happy to see him at the same time. But Riddle didn’t even have a chance to process it, because he was very suddenly buried under Floyd’s heavy body, feeling his huge hard dick against his own belly. Then he got scared again. And then again, when he actually saw that huge and scary wet thing that was about to get shoved inside of him ahem.

As I’ve already said, Floyd is both aggressive and clingy when he gets to this point, so he’ll lick and caress Riddle, rub his forehead against him, pant like a dog and grab his hands, but he’ll also bite him brutally, manhandle him and leave a lot of marks on his entire body, trying to claim him whole and fill him whole.

Despite Floyd’s mind being pretty much blank during that, he’ll be conscious enough to talk to Riddle. But he won’t remember a thing he’d said afterwards… but Riddle will. Because things that Floyd said were so rude, so filthy, disgusting and honestly very offensive, they made Riddle cry (both because of pain and pleasure).

There is a possibility that Floyd won’t remember much about what happened in general. But his body will, so every time he goes in heat from now on, he’ll go straight to Riddle and act like an animal again.