#which means I finally get to forget that I ever neglected it!

[strawberrymochin]

The cum analysis

A slight analysis on how jjk men would cum | Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Nanami kento; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro |

Gojo Satoru

Gojo cums hard and a lot. Like insanely a lot. He would shudder from the build up pleasure with a series of moans as he spurts his load into you. You could say you're milking him rather than making him cum. Sometimes he might cum prematurely while foreplay, which is practically a chance for you to display your dominance and overstimulate him. And when I say he cums a lot, I mean even if he wears condoms to prevent it ending inside of you, the intensity of him cumming would either end up leaking out of the condom or breaking it. If he fucks you raw, his one orgasm would end up filling your cervix upto the brim.

His cum would be thick, creamy and milky white. Super jiggly in texture almost resembling jelly. It would have a slight odour and would taste sweet considering the amount of sweet he consumes in his diet.

Geto Suguru

Geto cums a lot, but he tries to edge himself along with you wanting to sync both of your highs. He would be totally focused on making you feel good, drawing circles on your clit with his tip as his other hand focuses on streching your tight velvet walls for him to make it fit, curling his fingers inside you, drawing orgasm after orgasm, totally neglecting his throbbing penis. When he finally buries himself in you and starts thrusting himself chasing the doors of heaven he gets to experience, rolling his eyes back, swallowing his moans, he would feel his balls getting heavy and his muscles around his pelvic region starting to contract. He would not be able to contain himself and finally cum as he furiously drives you through another orgasm pinching your oversensitive nipples. He would cum in spurts filling you up so good that his cum would be oozing out your vagina messing the sheets even though he hasn't pulled out yet.

His cum would be slick and creamy. It would the prettiest pearly white you've ever seen as it trickles down your legs, when you stand up. His cum would be odour less and might be sweet or salty depending upon his current diet.

Nanami Kento

Damn. He hates making mess, you know right? He's lowkey a clean freak and would hate to mess things up, except that one time where he would lose his shit and cum uncontrollably as he fucks you on the kitchen counter, in low spurts messing the kitchen floor and you both. You just wanted to bake some vanilla cupcakes for him, however he had you now bend over the counter ass fucking you while the cup cake batter laid aside in neglectance. He would twitch uncontrollably as he fucks you senseless while his balls rams on your pussy with each thrust. The fact that he's fucking you mindlessly as both of your slick pool down, in his kitchen made his cock even more hard, as he continues cumming. He cums a decent amount of his load enough for you to feel more than satisfied.

His cum would be sticky and might smell a bit metalic. His texture would be somewhat between creamy and watery. It will be sticky as said earlier and I dunno if it's weird to describe it that way but if you swallow his load your mouth would feel sticky like umm....well.....prime from dark web...what the heck I'm even babbling.... forget you ever read this....but like all those reels if you have seen you would know the texture I'm talking about....whatever let's move on.

Ryomen Sukuna

Hail lord sukuna!! Sukuna- sama's cum would make your head go dizzy. It's almost so addictive that you would be begging him to fill you up to the brim again. And I'm not even kidding when I say this but once you've had it there's no backing away. He cums a heck lot and even after cumming three times or more his still hard cock would be pounding into your pussy mercilessly. He ejaculates fast with lots of load, thus you wouldn't have time to leak out the previous one as another one fills you up, he would creampie your pussy and press his big palm on your lower stomach just to see his cum spurting from the sides of your hole stuffed with his dick. Sukuna- sama and his dick- sama both are merciless. I don't need to explain more....Ig

His cum would be thick and slippery, and so much in quantity that you could save it up and use it as a lube in future. :⁠-⁠) His cum would stink a bit and you love the nasty humid sex smell it gives off. Might even taste metalic or salty. Have fun.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji— the dilfushiguro would cum a decent amount to get your entire lower region sticky and sloppy with his mess. Your ass would pound up and down forming sticky strings, exhilarating the sound of your skin slapping as the moans of you two echoes through the empty room. His fingers would tangle itself, rolling the slick of you both only to stuff it into your mouth wanting you to lick his finger clean. He might also tell you to lick his dick clean after you both ride down your high.

His cum would be sticky, sloppy and thick. I believe it might be slight off cold like of pale white, since being broke baby wouldn't have a proper diet, that still doesn't affect the quality of sperms yk. Also his cum would be odourless.

Other parts of this series- The moan analysis | The Dick analysis

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |

[aliorsboxostuff]

A/N Honestly this is really self-indulgent ‘cuz my instincts went “This mf forgets to eat I just know it.” and turned it into a really fluffy fic lmao. I wrote this with a male Spiderman in mind, but gender-neutral readers are also welcome of course! Hope you all enjoyed it!

Lunch

Tags: Miguel O’hara x m!Reader, Possible gn!Reader, Peter B. Parker, Mayday Parker, mention of Gwen, Fluff, Just taking care our resident dilf, He/him prns, Spiderman!Reader, caring!reader, Emotionally constipated Miguel? Emotionally constipated Miguel., Peter being the best wingman, Mayday being her cute self, Self-indulgent

Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. So what do you do? Exactly, force him into taking a break… Sorta.

Miguel O’hara doesn't take breaks. Miguel O’hara only leaves his lair if he’s needed on a mission to set another anomaly straight. Only when his body is finally demanding food does he leave the monitors in the care of Jessica or Lyla while he goes through the cafeteria for a satisfying meal or his favorite Empanadas. So far, if there wasn't a catastrophic event—Which is pointless because he would've seen it before anyone else—Or a Spider-person that needs his immediate help, he keeps himself perched on his platform, monitoring the vast universes, unblinking, the video of him and his daughter playing just on his peripherals. 

“Miguel! How long have you been up there?” Until you.

Another Spiderman that joined the spider society just a couple of months ago has managed to worm his way into Miguel’s thorn bushes. He doesn't even know how, or when, did you start to become a constant in his nonstop monitoring but you did, annoyingly so. Your voice echoes the large room, steps follow suit as you stand at the base of his lair.

You huff, before pulling your mask off and arching a brow while your question is left unanswered. You’ve only done this a handful of times. The day you learned that Miguel O’hara, the guy that doesn't leave his damn perch unless you can hear his stomach rumble a mile away or his body forces him to take a nap, you’ve dedicated a bit of your time to make sure he takes a time off from those screens. Spiderman or not, he still needs rest. 

“Seriously man,” You sigh, considering swinging yourself up to that damn platform. “Have you eaten anything for the last 7 hours?”

Another silence. “You missed lunch, y'know, if it weren't for Lyla I would have thought you died.”

Of course, nothing. You blink, annoyed, before deciding to just turn around and head to the cafeteria yourself. If he won't get food for himself then you will.

At this point, seeing you exit Miguel’s office has been a normal recurrence for the other Spider-people. So when you walk down the corridor, others wave and said their hi’s while you reply back. As much as you miss your universe, hanging out with others of your kind is refreshing. You reach the end of the walkway where it drops before you shoot out webs and swing to where the cafeteria is, cutting your journey short. Who knows how long Miguel has neglected his stomach?

You picked up today's dinner menu, thanking the server, before snagging an Empanada and then swiftly swinging back to Miguel's office. You make your way inside, making sure to not trip on the scattered tech and cables, and to no one’s surprise; he’s still staring at those screens. 

“Here,” You sat the plate and box down on one of the many boxes and tables around his office. “Eat it, or not. I’m sure your stomach will appreciate it if you do,”

You shrugged before swiftly walking back to exit his lair once more, rolling your eyes when he doesn't respond again. Typical.

—

“I really don't get his problem, I mean, I'm just looking out for him, isn't that what teammates do?”

“No ones ever really brought him food, man,”

“Yeah well he’ll get his own food when he starves, and I don't think the others would like that,” You snicker before landing beside Peter. He was heading to Miguels to report a new potential member so you tagged along, besides you missed holding Mayday. 

“I think he appreciates it though,” Peter presses the button and the door opens, the three of you walking inside. You cross your arm, watching as Mayday starts to scale his dad, her giggles contagious.

“Weird way of showing it,” You huff, eyeing the girl as she starts pulling at Peter's strands before you reach for her, cradling her against your chest and tickling her little body. “No ‘Thank you’? Or y’know, a small ‘thanks’ maybe?” 

She coos, turning her head as if she understands your rambling. You hold her under her arms, then nuzzle her fluffy hair which makes her giggle.  You stare down her eyes, wrinkling your nose. “He’s a little crap isn't he, May?” She cackles in delight which makes you grin.

“Hey, no swearing around the kid,” Peter grumbles and when Mayday makes grabby hands towards her father, you hand her back.

“Says the dad that takes his daughter on missions?” You smirk, lightly punching Pete’s shoulder, making both of you laugh, and Mayday follows suit with her giggles. Finally reaching Miguel’s lair, the man is always on his platform, before Peter calls for him to report. As you watch the platform dramatically descend, this time with Miguel holding a screen tablet and facing you and Peter.

At least he’s not facing those screens this time, you thought. You cross your arms, eye scanning around the room when you spot a clean cafeteria plate on the same table you left it on a couple of hours before. 

“Hey uh…” Peter hums when you start to reach for the plate. “You go on ahead, I’ll be right back,” 

You quickly picked up the utensil and went ahead outside, already swinging your way toward the cafeteria. You peek inside the box and to your delight, the empanada you brought for him is already gone. You smile, humming in relief as you make your way to drop off the plate. You gave it to the staff and threw the box into the trash before you made your way back to the lair again.

A smile creeps its way to your lips and it won't leave, the feeling of a small blooming rose inside your heart as you realize Miguel does eat the food you leave for him. 

As you made your way through the doors, you heard the deep baritone of Miguel's voice conversing with Peter. 

“I don't understand him.” That made your step falter. You swiftly pressed back to the hallway leading to Miguel's lair, making sure to hear their voices clearly, though deep down you knew you shouldn't do this. 

“What don't you understand, man? He just cares about you,” Peter's voice is accompanied by Mayday's giggling. “He brings you food and makes sure you take breaks, I mean, I think that’s a pretty good thing,”

“I know It’s a good thing, Peter. But why? What does he want?”

“Not everything needs to have an ulterior motive, Miguel,” Peter chuckles, you can hear Mayday's laughs too. “Maybe he just wants to. Who knows,”

Then there was silence. You blink, processing the conversation, a million other thoughts fly by you, the biggest was your worry about burdening him. Maybe Miguel doesn't want you to do this, why else would he think you wanted something from him? Maybe you should back down, leave him alone like how everyone else treats him, maybe-

“It is… Nice of him, though,” A sudden rush of heat flows into your cheeks.

“I should thank him, one of these days,” Miguel continued. At this point, Peter should have sensed you but has said nothing. Until Mayday turns the corner and then came crawling into your view, you decided to make your appearance. 

You scoop up the little girl, cuddling her close to your chest. “Hey, kiddo! You shouldn't be back here!”

She cackles, little hands reaching for your strands which makes you laugh. You pull your head up to see Miguel and Peter standing at the end of the hallway, Peter with an oddly smug look while Miguel suddenly turns towards his monitors. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothin’, just done reporting,” Peter shrugs nonchalantly, walking towards you before taking Mayday, “I should head back though, this little spider needs her nap, don't you?” 

Mayday giggles in her father's arm, Peter already waving as he exits the office. “Later, you two!”

“See ya’ Pete!” You wave back, catching May’ little hands waving too before the door closes. 

Now it's just you and Miguel. It's rare seeing him off of the platform, away from that far-away bubble. You’ve only seen him on duty with other Spideys, that's the only time he’s away from the glowing screens. He’s still focused on the screen tablet when you jogged closer. Now that you’re meters away from him, You notice how broad his shoulders actually are, and the slight curls on the back of his head. You clear your throat, looking at anything other than Miguel.

“So… The new recruit Peter gave you? We taking them in?”

“Huh? Yeah, yes.” Miguel shifts slightly, you rub your hands together.

“Alright, cool,” You cringe, the air suffocating with tension and unspoken words. You look around, before deflating, your hand scratching the back of your neck. “Well… I’m gonna go then-”

“Wait.” You stop yourself from turning. “You don't have to keep doing that,”

“Doing what?” You raise a brow, with your mask off and Miguel in front of you, he can clearly see your slightly smug face.

“That. Bringing me food. I don't need it,” Miguel finally pries his eyes away from the tablet, now meeting yours. 

You chuckle. “Last time I checked, you're still human Miguel,”

“I can do that myself,” He steps towards you, which makes you pull up your hands defensively. 

“Alright, sure boss, but you only eat when your body forces you. That can't be healthy,” You huff, crossing your arms and meeting his deep reds. He backs down, looking towards the far wall. 

Great, an argument instead of him just agreeing with me, You sighs, looking down at the concrete floor. What were you thinking? Miguel can take care of himself, of course, he’s a fucking old man and you probably disrupted his old man metabolism or some shit like that.

“I- Thanks.” Your perk up, quickly meeting his still-averting eyes. “That's what I wanted to say. Thanks,”

You smirk. ”Yeah, of course, Miguel,” 

“Maybe… You can let Lyla take over, or someone, and uh…” Shit, maybe this is too bold…

Fuck it. “Join me for lunch, sometime?”

It was a mistake. The deafening silence was clearly a loud rejection from Miguel and you wanted to quickly blurt out something, anything to salvage what you had before, but he beat you to it.

“Sure, sometime,” You whip your head around, almost smacking with how close Miguel and you were standing. His eyes widened slightly, a ghost of a smirk across his lips and it made you gulp.

“Y-yeah, sometimes, yeah,” His brow quirks a bit when you start stumbling your way through his lair. “I should uh- I think Gwen called me so uh-” 

The last thing he saw from you was your stuttering word and your body turning the corner of his office, then a loud ‘Fuck yeah!’ before you disappeared. Truly a wonder how you, out of anyone, managed to pique Miguel’s interest. 

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[graceraindrops-blog]

How much of a terrible mom was Cordelia? A full explanation.

It's a shame that the first post of my blog is dedicated to a rather ''interesting'' take @yuikomorii showed me, but taking into account that I've done my research involving the mothers, I find it a perfect opportunity to make a full explanation of Cordelia's abusive behavior.

Before I start, I would like to talk about why Cordelia acted the way she did (I AM NOT JUSTIFYING HER ACTIONS).

We know that Cordelia's father was neglectful towards her after the death of her mother which made her lack the ability to understand love.

Karlheinz manipulated Cordelia into marrying him and giving him children FORCEFULLY (because Cordelia did not want to have children). He also convinced Cordelia that it was okay for her to have many lovers and to have sexual relationships with FAMILY members

Cordelia's abusive behavior towards the triplets also comes over the fact of her jealousy and obsession with Karlheinz and surpassing Beatrix and Christa.

Getting this out of the way I will now start explaining why Cordelia was NOT a good mother despite her traumas.

It's not strange to view Cordelia negatively if she's one of the antagonists of the franchise. NEVER did Diabolik lovers ever paint Cordelia as a good person and constantly tell us about how shitty she was towards her children and how much it affected them.

2. I'm not denying the fact that around those times parenting was more strict, however, you're forgetting that Cordelia didn't just slap, ground, or yell at her children, she put intense waves of pressure on Ayato, and drowned him, she sexually abused Laito, manipulated him and groomed him when he was a KID, forced Kanato to sing until he bled and made him watch her have intercourse with other men. This was the abuse the triplets went through until they finally had enough and attempted to kill Cordelia, which they succeeded.

3. Yes, it's true that Beatrix wouldn't give the triplets much attention or love, she would probably neglect them due to not being her biological children and belonging to her rival, however, Beatrix WOULD NEVER do the messed up stuff Cordelia did. Yes, she was a terrible mother to Shu and Reiji, yet she would've never stepped down at Cordelia's level.

4. A normal mother doesn't drown and threaten her child due to personal issues, A normal mother doesn't sexually abuse her child and grooms him to make him depend on her, and a normal mother doesn't force her child to watch her have sex with men and doesn't use his singing voice to get horny. If she was an affectionate mother ayato wouldn't have found the need to HIDE himself from her and the triplets wouldn't have considered killing her.

5. I would also like to add, that no matter how badly influenced Cordelia was, and no matter how much childhood trauma she went through, that would never be a justification for the way she treated her children. This does not only apply to Cordelia, this applies to every character and to real people as well. It's a reason why they behave that way, but never a justification. Also, Cordelia doing the bare minimum and behaving like an actual mother for a few moments does not mean she cares about her children. I don't think this is explicitly told, but I believe in those particular scenes she's grooming Kanato to become dependent on her like she did with Laito and Ayato.

6. ''She never spoke that way to her children'' I'm sorry but I have to laugh?? I would've understood if you were an anime only (not really) but taking into account that you do know about the games this is really really wrong lol. I don't why it's difficult to understand that Cordelia didn't love her children. Cordelia is such a bad mother that when she was resurrected in Ayato's DF route, she didn't even apologize to him or to his siblings, and yet he still forgave her! She even told Ayato to APOLOGIZE to her and continued to insult him

(Credits to @dialovers-translations)

I understand (I think everyone in the fandom does) that Cordelia had her reasons to behave this way (childhood trauma and manipulation) but that doesn't excuse her actions. I don't agree with people hating on Cordelia and loving Karlheinz but I also don't agree with people defending Cordelia and saying she did nothing wrong when she did.

Cordelia isn't a black-and-white character and she's not a bad character either, she's very well-written for her purpose (an antagonist) but she's not a good person or mother. She never regretted what she did and if she was still alive during HDB she would've still been abusive to the triplets.

This is my problem with morally grey characters/Evil characters. They can't exist in media if people ignore their wrongdoings and actions and try to justify said actions. I'm not saying that they shouldn't exist but I'm tired of people painting them as good people or justifying their actions when their whole purpose as a character is to show that they're not good people and their actions are/were wrong.

To finish off the post I would like to say that I love Cordelia's character and I consider her to be one of the best-written characters in Diabolik Lovers. In my opinion, I would've liked to know more about her in further games but even if I feel this way about her I don't justify her actions and that's something we should all do. I'm glad the fandom no longer justifies the actions of the characters (with some obvious exceptions). And even if I like Cordelia as a character I don't shame others for not liking her, at the end of the day she was a horrible person lol.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/attackfish/155865674048?source=share

Thoughts on this pist? The three pillar theory of Azula?

I think it's a shame that it started out as a genuinely good analysis that wasn't neglecting either Azula's "evil" side nor her "good/innocent" side, and was quickly derrailed into nonsense that either lies about or grossly misremembers canon events.

Here are the five mistakes that ruined this analysis (and plenty of others).

1 - Unwillingness to accept that, while Azula is wrong about Ozai, she is 100% right about Ursa

Ozai was an abusive parent towards both of children. Ursa was a better parent - this does not mean she was perfect.

We see her spending time one-on-one with Zuko, and sometimes including Azula in it, and looking happy when her children are seemingly getting along. So far, so good.

But she doesn't spend one-on-one time with Azula, Bryke describe Zuko as Ursa's FAVORITE, and Zuko himself does not defend his mother when Azula says she loved him more. Not so good.

When Zuko throws bread at the turtleducks and hurts one, Ursa is horrified, but only reprimands him a little before hugging him and playfully explaining to him why what he did was bad. Through the rest of the episode, we constantly see her either telling Azula to not speak the way she does or scolding her harshily - without ever explaining the reason why. Zuko, the year-old, is the only person that bothers to explain things to Azula (like Iroh coming home early because he's grieving and how that's not weakness) and question her in an attempt to force her to put herself in someone else's shoes (asking how she'd feel if their cousin wanted their dad to die).

Ursa's 10-year-old son, even when in a fit of rage, did a better job than her at parenting her 8-year-old daughter.

And, finally, this person mentions the comics as "proof" of Azula just "not understanding" that her mom totally was treating her and Zuko the same, unlike their dad.

In the comics, Ursa ignores her daughter, even she's in the room. She wakes Zuko up to say goodbye when she's banished, so he'll know he was loved, but doesn't do the same to Azula, meaning their last interaction was a fight. She then willingly forgets her own children, and then she has her memories back she rarely ever bothers to mention that Azula, who is in the middle of a psychotic episode, is missing. There's no concern for her well-being, only "Oh, I wonder how my OTHER daughter is doing." Can't even say her fucking name.

Ursa played favorites and it damaged her daughter. The mirror scene is quitely literally Azula desperately wanting Ursa to treat her like she used to treat Zuko - explaining what she did wrong, how she can be better, and assuring her that she is loved. The only time Azula is treated fairly by her mother was literally a hallucination.

2 - Bizarre need to make every mundane thing Azula does be connected to/a result of some pathological condition

Azula is a manipulative person, no one in their right mind can deny that - but I gotta laugh when people act like her giving her mom puppy-dog eyes and repeating the line Ursa probably used to make her kids play together is on the same level of her manipulating Long Feng, or that her playing a prank on Zuko and Mai is no different from messing with his head in "Avatar State."

Just because she is villain, doesn't mean everything she does has an evil, hidden motive. We first hear "Azula always lies" when she tells Zuko THE TRUTH about their dad going to murder him.

No one believes someone who is NEVER honest. No one gets attached to someone that is NEVER kind. Not dick move is a result of someone's greatest flaws. A child telling a white lie is not the same as some crazy scheme to manipulate someone.

3 - Not understanding that unhealthy/selfish love is not the same as FAKE love

I don't think I've ever been more mad at a line in an analysis about Azula (which is saying a lot) than I was when I read this person claim that Azula didn't genuinely love Mai and Ty Lee and justified with the absurd sentence "People don’t fall apart the way Azula did because somebody they love leaves them."

Yes, they do. When you have a ton of problems, be it psychological ones or life-problems, having the people you care about turn away from you can absolutely make you spiral out of control. You don't even need some kind of unhealthy, excessive dependence on them for that to be the case. Losing people is very painful, and during low points a great deal of pain can fuck you up.

Azula's dynamic with them is not healthy, but that doesn't mean her love isn't real. And I don't mean it in a "It's real FOR HER", no, it's just 100% real, plain and simple.

If Azula didn't care about them, she would have never done things like not punish Mai for blatanly disregarding her orders in The Drill, or apologize after making Ty Lee cry, admit she was JEALOUS, and then ask advice. She'd sure as hell not have conversation with her "mom" (herself) about how she hurt them and abused their friendship/her authority over them.

She loves her friends, but she was never taught how to have a normal, equal relationship with anyone. She was raised to see things as a matter of who is in charge and who is subordinate. She is the princess, therefore it's her right to put her wants and needs before that of her friends. She even says to "Ursa" that she doesn't have the option to NOT act like that, because "fear is the only reliable way."

That is a key factor of Azula's tragedy, because her relationship with Ozai is the center of her universe, it is the basis of all other relationships in her life - and it is rooted in her never doing anything to displease him because she's terrified not only of the potential punishment, but of also losing that bond. So she uses fears to keep others close to her, not realizing that if she didn't do that they wouldn't WANT to cut ties with her.

(Also, fuck me, I nearly punched my computer when I read "Ty Lee ran away with the circus to be free of Azula." She literally tells us it was about her bad relationship with HER PARENTS AND HER SISTERS. It had nothing to do with Azula - what is it with people and this obsessive need of blaming my girl for things we KNOW weren't her fault?)

4 - Not understanding that Zuko is more than just Azula's rival/the exemple of what happens when you displease Ozai

Azula loves her brother. According to the lead writer of the show, Zuko is the person Azula loves the most (after Ozai, hence all the tension in their relationship).

Azula didn't know Aang had any chance of survival until Zuko let it slip - when they were ALREADY home, meaning the plan to blame him for everything if Aang survived could not possibly exist yet.

In the following episode, she warns him to be careful when visiting Iroh, otherwise people could think they were plotting together. Zuko asks what she's gaining by letting him know, and she says she's just looking out for him - and it never comes back, because she was not lying. She WAS taking care of him.

The Last Agni Kai hits so hard because they COULD have had a good relationship if things were different. If Ozai and Ursa hadn't played favorites. If Ozai wasn't abusive. If Zuko hadn't left after Azula brought him home, or if Azula had understood WHY he left.

Even in "The Spirit Temple", one of the few comics that are actually good, Azula says she wished their mom had let Ozai kill Zuko... yet we see that her ideal, happy life includes her loving, unscarred brother that is super proud of her. She spends the entire comic saying Zuko is weak and a coward who can't face her, yet when she sees "him" (an hallucination) directly confroting her about her own mistakes and the pain she caused, demanding her to apologize, it is Azula herself who runs away to hide from him.

Azula hurt her brother many times, and she knows that - and she is in denial about the guilt she feels over it because feeling guilt over hurting someone who is "lesser" is a weakness and an imperfection, and she needs to be strong and perfect all the time.

If you disregard her conflicting feelings on her brother, you disregard half her character.

5 - Forgetting that Azula is a child soldier under Ozai's orders

This is THE big one, guys. It's astounding how people just forget that Ozai isn't just Azula's abusive parent, he is the absolute monarch that can legally punish her if she displeases him.

Does she repeatedly fight Zuko because of their rivalry? Sure. But half the time she's doing it because Ozai literally gave her the mission to do so.

Does she threaten Ty Lee at the circus because she doesn't like being told "no"? Yes... but also because Ty Lee would be a valluable team member, and she needs a small elite team to properly do the task Ozai gave her.

Even the Last Agni Kai happens in the context of "Ozai just told Azula that he's trusting her to protect defend their throne."

There's a reason why, at "The Beach", she can handle pretending to be regular girl instead of a princess, but is CONSTANTLY on "battle mode", trying to turn a game into a war, praising a guy's outfit by sayind it'd make thousands drown at sea with how sharp it is, and why her flirting game consists of "We'll take over the world together!"

She grew up seeing violence be normalized and glorified every second of the day, to the point that things don't even register to her as being violent at all anymore.

Of course she's toxic and full on hostile in her relationships, no matter how much she cares about the person in question: All she's ever known is war, and Ozai deliberately blurs the lines to make his abuse of her and Zuko seem normal.

You can't disregard "Ozai will punish me if I don't do this" as a factor when talking about Azula.

[lovezbrownies]

Is this an act of love? (Yan!Military Chief x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

Synopsis: You ignore your wife in favor of a book, which has her infuriarated. But what happens when you become upset over the destruction of the book?

Gen Ludenhart x Reader

Warnings: Past physical torture to reader, reader fears Gen, Gen threatens you, no use of Y/N, possible minor character death.

It’s been 5 years since you’ve been forced to marry Gen Ludenhart. You had tried as hard as you could to get away from her— yet she always found you and when she did she would make it very clear how upset she was with you. Using various methods of torture, letting you stew in the pain and suffering before healing you with her magic. The honorable Chief of Military Gen Ludenhart was all but honorable.

However, now that 3 years have passed since your last failure you’ve accepted the situation. You will only ever die if your wife allows it, which means you’re essentially immortal. Since you’ve been so good, Gen would buy you everything you’d want, no matter the price. This meant you had every new gadget and every book that has ever piqued your interest.

You were okay with this arrangement. At least now you aren’t being tortured, and you can focus on whatever activity you want– well with your clingy wife in tow, but you’ve gotten used to her presence and can completely forget if she was there to begin with. Which brings up the newest issue in your marriage with the coddling devil.

The past two months you’ve been obsessed with this book series that Gen bought for you one random day. It was a very long series with very long books, so to say the least it has consumed much of your time. Whenever Gen would nag you over the lack of attention you would hum, give her a hug, a few pats on the head and you’d go back to reading the story. Gen usually wasn’t bothered by your occasional hyper fixation on certain things, they always come and go, you’ll always come back to her for affections.

Yet. Gen stood behind the library’s couch tapping her foot furiously against the floor. “Well? Aren’t you going to greet me, my love.” Her voice was angry and strained, glaring down at your laid back form, you were relaxed and very immersed into your book. So much so that you hadn’t heard your wife call out for you when she got back home. “Hm..? Oh, uh, sorry…  I’m… a bit busy…” You’d trail off every now and then from how focused you were on reading how the main character is going to triumph in her final battle.

Gen, tired with all the lack of affection, yanked the book out of your hands. “Hey!! Give it back! I haven’t finished it yet!!” You got up, reaching for your book but Gen hid it behind her back. Pushing you back down on the couch she began lecturing you about how hurt she felt over how you’ve been neglecting her recently. But in all honesty every word went in one ear and out the other, all your brain could possibly think of was the book and how the hero will prevail in her battle.

Your wife knew that you weren’t there at all, you’d do the same expression anytime you wished to escape the harsh reality and put yourself into your fantasy worlds. Sighing she softly threw the book next to you. “Nevermind, just come to me when you finish the stupid book. I will know if you don’t.” You smiled as you tried to find the page you were last on, Gen walked away dejected and hurt.

Thankfully you weren’t stupid, and immediately went to her when you finished the series, finally. But this is not how she wanted it to be. You and Gen lying on her bed, your body on top of hers, head snuggling into her chest as you blabbered on about the book’s hero, Liya something or other. “-And then as soon as the battle ended Liya looked all over for her lover, but she found them half dead, and so with the last bit of her power she gave it all away just to make sure her lover stays alive, then-”

Gen loved that you were talking to her with little to no fear but if she hears you squeal over this Liya woman one more time she might kill the author and burn every copy of the series. “Darling,” Gen cut off your rambling. “Has anything else happened to you today? Have you left that book at all? Gone out for a bit of fresh air, hm?” You looked up at her, shook your head no, and continued with what you were saying. Gen could only rub her hands across your back and nod along whenever you looked up to check if she was actually listening.

It’s been a long tiring week, most of the time Gen’s been busy with work, so when she would come home she would always ask for peace and quiet and for you to cuddle her to sleep. Come Friday morning, what she didn’t expect was to wake up and find you reading one of the wretched books of the series. It’s been a little over a week since you’ve finished the series and you’re still consuming that garbage? 

Usually in these types of situations she’d let you go shopping with her, but not even the outside world can pull you away from the imaginary fairytale you’ve been so obsessed over. “Dear. Get back to sleep.” Gen commanded, she used a tone of voice she knew you feared, and yet, it had no effect. “Yes, Gen, just a moment… One more chapter…” Gen sighed, her anger bubbling up. “No. No moments. No chapters. Sleep now or I’ll burn every book I’ve bought you.” Thankfully this time you listened, your body tensed as you quickly put the book down on your bedside table and laid back down. You woke up an hour later to Gen’s arms caging you to her, not allowing you to pick up your book at all.

You tried as hard as you could to weasel your way out of her grasp and run off to the library with your beloved book. Gen only squeezed you harder, pulled you tighter, and buried her head into you further. She was tired of your games, maybe this was some sick twisted way of getting back at her for all the pain she’s inflicted upon you.

Today, Gen finally managed to pull you away from your fantasy world and outside to a restaurant. Yet you still kept talking about the book, well that was before Gen cut you off. “One more word about that book and I will slam you on this table and fuck you in front of everyone here.” Her voice was low and threatening, the threat shocking you into silence you didn’t dare speak, allowing Gen to dominate the conversation as she usually does.

Today’s outing was actually quite enjoyable for once, aside from that one threat, all went smoothly. Gen took you out to your favorite restaurant, let you go wild in your favorite stores, and then finally went to the park to enjoy the scenery and eat ice cream together, which you were currently doing. It almost felt like a normal relationship, but it wasn’t, you won’t dwell on that however since it only ever brings pain.

At the moment you were both sitting on one of the park benches, ice creams in hand. “Gen?” Your wife hums in response, you snuggled closer to her side. “I really appreciated what you did for me today.” Oh. Oh, she could just eat you whole. Her sweet spouse. If she can keep this up for a while you might completely forget about that stupid character and focus on her once again. “Anything for you, honey. I love you.” Of course you never reciprocate her “I love you’s’’ but it doesn't matter. A little more solitude and isolation will fix that.

Gen and you finally made it home, it’s now late at night you move ahead of your wife, looking around for your book in the living room. “Oh would you look at that, my love, you walked 10,000 steps! We should go ou-” A sharp pained gasp interrupted Gen. Gen, concerned, hurried over to the fireplace, where you stood. Looking down at the blazing fire she saw small remnants of your book, used as fire kindle.

It was quite- No, it was silent, not a single peep was uttered. You were staring down at the fire, emotionless, while Gen was solely focused on you and your reactions. You just stood there, unmoving, unchanging. “Do you want me to buy the books again, dear?” Gen broke the silence, trying her hardest to stay cool, so you don’t break down in tears. If this has been at the beginning of your relationship she wouldn’t have been so quick to offer something like that, she’d tell you to suck it up and move on. You’ve obviously affected her over the years.

Meanwhile, you stood still, unfeeling. You knew she’d do something like this, Gen’s loyal little maid. Reina. “No… It’s fine. This was inevitable.”  Inevitable? What the hell are you talking about? Gen frowned, she turned her body fully to you, head tilted to the side. “What do you mean ‘inevitable’? How would the torching of your beloved books be inevitable, my love?” For the first time you finally showed a hint of emotion. Your lips pursed, your eyebrows furrowed and you turned to sit on one of the armchairs in the room.

Gen followed after you, kneeling on her knees in front of your seated form, her eyes begging for an answer. Wow, did she turn soft. Gen grabbed your hands, engulfing them in her much larger hands. A sigh escaped out of you, noticing how open she’s been emotionally, how loving she’s being, how sincere. “I- Well. You’ve been so open about how you’ve hated my books… I just thought eventually you would do something about it,” You looked off to the side sheepishly, not used to being so vulnerable to her.

You continued, ‘’I thought you’d probably tell Reina to burn it while we were gone and I guess I’m right…” Gen frowned, never would she ever do something like that! Why in the world would you ever assume that! Sure she threatened to burn the damned books for a while but they were all empty threats! You had to have known she was just kidding! Right? But then it clicked. The only person to be able to do something like that would be Reina. Sure the mansion has its fair share of servants but Reina served the parts of the mansion you resided in.

Gen got up, gave you a quick kiss on your head and said, “Give me a moment, dear, this will all be resolved soon.” You stared at her as she walked off, curious as to what would happen. You wanted to follow after her and see what she’s doing but knowing her she probably is going to rage at Reina. So you stayed put, not wanting to incur her wrath anymore. You’ve experienced enough pain for a lifetime.

And it seems you were eternally grateful for not following her. The next day Gen told you to accompany her and interview new personal servants for your wing of the mansion. You don’t know what happened to Reina and you did not want to know. She never really liked you to begin with. So why bother to worry for her?

‘Gen’s attitude is rubbing off on me too much…’

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

MARTHA'S IS PRETTY ROMANTIC - CHAPTER THREE: THE HEART WANTS WHAT THE HEART WANTS

summary: “If you haven’t understood by now that I like you as more than a friend, then I don’t even think I can help you to understand what’s going on.”

warnings: 18+ themes (not full smut), confrontation/arguments, awkwardness, swearing, angst, fluff, vague injury description

word count: 12k

previous part | series masterlist

For some reason, it was the thudding of a door shutting downstairs that seemed to wake you; judging from the golden light peeking through the gap in the curtains, you guessed it was still pretty early. With a sigh and a yawn, you reckoned it was probably Tyson heading out for his morning run.

Except, when you tentatively reached a hand across the mattress, eyes shutting all too easily as you were grasped tightly in the clutches of fatigue, there was an unexpected warmth radiating from quite close to where you were laid. Your hand halted its movement, eyes flying open as you twisted around in bed, nearly coming face to face with a sleeping Tyson, whose head was resting on the very edge of his own pillow, one of his arms tucked under yours.

You froze, heart stuttering and mind immediately recalling the conversation you’d had the day prior when you’d told him you’d at least like to wake up and have him in the bed at some point, awake or not, instead of facing an empty room and a severe lack of his presence.

Though, his presence now must mean that it was Mat and Toni that had left for breakfast.

You reached back to your side of the bed, tapping the screen of your phone. It was half-nine, which could mean a variety of things relating to Tyson: that he finally managed to get used to the foreign bed, or that he’d previously been setting alarms to get up earlier and continue his routine from back home.

Either way, you weren’t complaining, not when he looked so criminally soft. You turned on your back, phone remaining clutched in your hand, not able to turn your eyes away from him quite yet. His curls were crazier than you’d ever seen them, a combination of sleeping and going to bed with his hair wet meaning they weren’t in the same even pattern you were so used to seeing on a daily basis. There was a gentle crease in the middle of his forehead, as though he was concentrating on something in a dream. And, like he said, he’d neglected to wear a shirt: toned arms and a shoulder greeted you from where the sheet had failed to cover most of his torso, skin a little browner than it had been when you’d first arrived.

But before your brain could even contemplate thinking he looked quite handsome like that, something in your mind seemed to flicker at the reminder of the tense atmosphere from last night, and with that, you quickly hauled yourself out of bed, carefully trying not to disturb the covers too much, and crept downstairs.

He probably didn’t want to see you anyway.

And it was how Tyson found you half an hour later: curled under a blanket on the sofa, midway through a glass of juice and watching whatever was on TV.

You’d turned the volume down when he entered, still blinking away the last remnants of tiredness and sleep, his eyes immediately catching onto you as he wandered into the kitchen, acknowledging you with a tight smile.

It wasn’t genuine, if anything it was a little bit forced, and you knew you only had yourself to blame. Leaving Jamie’s number in Tyson’s jacket pocket wasn’t something that had felt detrimental when you’d done it at the time (you hadn’t wanted to lose it, and you never intended to forget it was there altogether), but now it just seemed to have completely reversed any and all progress the two of you had made. 

If anything, this tenseness took you back to before you were friends. Awkward conversations and tiptoeing around each other because you weren’t quite comfortable in each other’s presence yet.

Only now, it was the complete opposite.

The silence remained until he took a seat in the armchair, as far away from you as he possibly could have gotten without entering another room, when he took a sip of his own glass, “Have Mat and Toni left already?”

His voice was thick, a little croaky and you had to fight with yourself to prevent a blush on your cheeks.

(You’d never admit it, but his morning voice was shockingly erotic.)

“Yeah.” You replied, swallowing harshly when he pulled his eyes from you and turned his attention to the TV as soon as it was clear you’d done talking. There was no lingering look, and with a stab of hurt and a little desperation rooted through a fear that he’d slip away and you’d lose him over a misunderstanding you weren’t quite sure how to correct without implying something else, it felt like he couldn’t even look at you, “Do you want to get brunch?”

Your voice felt frail and it didn’t take a genius to note the biting anxiety in your tone, because Tyson snapped his head towards you, his eyes softening fractionally at the expression on your face. He seemed to consider the offer for a moment, and with every moment that he didn’t answer, you felt the crack in your chest ache and widen, hope dwindling massively.

“Sure.” He sighed eventually.

The same tension that prompted prolonged and uncharacteristic silences seemed to infect the entirety of bruch. Neither of you said anything, choosing instead to shovel forkfuls of food into your mouths in an attempt to give a reason not to talk to each other.

It wasn’t until Tyson had silently led the both of you to walk back to the house along the beach that you decided to say something. It wasn’t anything pertaining to the matter of the both of you, but rather the almost concerned way he was eyeing his phone screen as he walked, fingers furiously tapping away at the keyboard.

Your arms were crossed against your chest, and the breeze from the shore was whipping your hair everywhere, and you reached for the hair tie in your jacket pocket, your motions distracting Tyson for a moment.

“Is everything okay?” You asked, not really holding out much hope for him to answer what with how quiet he’d been all morning thus far, but once you’d gestured at the phone in his hand, he nodded, a little sheepish.

“Yeah, I just–” He waved his phone half-heartedly, stopping in his tracks as he looked to you, “My mom wants a photo of us, and I’m trying to tell her–”

“It’s fine with me.” You interrupted, sticking your hands in your jacket pockets, trying and failing to not seem like you weren’t jumping at the opportunity to at least engage in a semi-normal dynamic.

“Are you sure?” He asked after a brief pause, eyes sincere but still clearly hesitating – as though he wasn’t quite sure what he was supposed to do or not do. If you were more honest with yourself, you’d have no issue admitting that it broke your heart a little, but in that moment, you ignored those thoughts.

“I’m sure.” You nodded, turning back to the water, “Get the ocean in the background, quick, before someone walks through behind us.” You found your hand reaching out to grasp his forearm without even thinking too much about it, manoeuvring him to stand next to you whilst he cleared his throat.

You hadn’t even realised the magnitude of what you’d done until the tingling in your fingertips seemed to warm your entire hand, and your neck snapped in Tyson’s direction, who was staring at your flexing hand and not bothering to hide the sheer look of perplexity at your action.

You felt your cheeks redden, and you gestured to his phone, “Sorry.” Your apology was a little weak, and you knew Tyson could see right through your little white lie.

“It’s okay.” He shrugged, swallowing nervously, “Do I look good?”

You blinked, about to answer honestly (that’s what he wanted, right?), but he seemed to catch himself.

“Good enough for a selfie, that is.” He clarified, his own cheeks now splashing rouge.

And although things were tense and a little up in the air, you couldn’t help the smile that seemed to appear on your face at his stuttering. You nodded, reigning it in, “A little windswept and rosy-cheeked, but your mom’ll definitely find it more adorable than scruffy.” You paused, acknowledging the rather shy duck of his head, “What about me?”

His head zipped back up, eyes searching your face with meaningful intent (though Tyson did take the opportunity to just simply look at you without the danger of getting caught), “Yeah, you look good.” Your brows shot up in blatant shock, and almost as soon as he’d finished talking, you knew he’d immediately backpedal on himself, “For the photo.” 

You nodded, teeth catching your bottom lip as you fought the irresistible urge to tease him or laugh or something…but one thing that had wrestled itself to the forefront of your mind was the desire to kiss him then. It was simple, if a little too simple: all you’d have had to do was lean a little bit closer. 

But before you could even entertain that idea, reasons not to kiss him came flooding in, the main one being that right now, it would do way more harm than good.

It seemed Tyson wanted to get the photo taken as soon as humanly possible, because it was barely ten seconds later that he was shooting off the photo to his mom and the awkward, tense atmosphere had returned as you both walked side by side along the beach.

Your jaw was clenched the entire walk back, mind whirling and seemingly incapable of being quiet. His silent treatment was actually kind of pissing you off now. You’d sat and suffered through three hours of it, and although you knew he could be stubborn at the worst of times, he was pushing it.

You’d been watching him out of the corner of your eye all day, holding your breath when you thought he was about to say something or look your way, but each time he’d shown signs of maybe doing that – of actually bringing it all up – he’d furrowed his brows as though to give himself a pep-talk or something, and turned the other way completely.

You’d have been fine with his silence if he hadn't been verging on ignoring you the entire morning – that was where you drew the line. But it was becoming clear with every time he caught himself acknowledging you, that he had absolutely no intention of ever talking about it.

And somewhere between the photo on the beach and making it back to the house, the door shutting behind you, your patience had dwindled almost dangerously low – teetering on snapping altogether. You followed him through the house, not sure if he knew you were on his heels – or once more, he was just simply choosing to ignore your presence.

You halted at the kitchen island, palms flat against the marble, watching him as he threw open the back door before his eyes slipped over you, no apparent shock written on his features.

He still said nothing as he made for the fridge, and you sighed when the door opened, blocking you from each other. Whether it was the breeze from the open door or the fridge that seemed to settle a chill over you, you couldn’t possibly have guessed because your attention was – as you were finding it a lot lately – stolen by Tyson.

“So,” you started, but he didn’t even acknowledge your voice this time, prompting a roll of your eyes and a rather stern, “Are you okay?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, peeling an orange straight into the bin, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’ve been ignoring me all morning–”

“I haven’t been ignoring you.” He insisted, looking up from his orange with a mildly offended look on his face.

“Okay,” You breathed, not necessarily agreeing with him, but rather switching the angle you’d go from, “Then you’ve been quiet all morning, and that’s not like you at all. Something’s up.”

He shut the bin, placing his unpeeled orange on the counter and mirroring your body language, his palms flat against the marble and elbows locked, “How would you know?”

You stared unblinkingly for a brief moment, a pause not too long but long enough for Tyson to raise an accusing eyebrow. Only, you weren’t quite sure what he was accusing you of, “Because I know you probably better than most people.”

He huffed a bitter laugh at your words, eliciting a frown to form on your face, and the sore lack of humour seemed to strike a nerve within you. It was so unlike him you couldn’t help but wonder what you’d done to offend him to this extent.

As far as you were aware, you hadn’t even done anything wrong because Tyson had never actually said or done anything to even suggest he liked you in the way you liked him, and because of that your apparent ‘flirting’ debacle with Jamie was completely fine. In fact, when you thought about it, it was Tyson who’d put an end to the flirting thing; Tyson who’d reacted to most of your flirty comments by shutting them down or turning them into a  friend-thing, and whether he was choosing to ignore your comments or just downright oblivious to your advances, you were stuck.

“Don’t kid yourself.” He said, shaking his head and looking at the countertop, avoiding your eyes completely.

You sighed, frustration beginning to press at your temples and send your heart rate skyrocketing, “Fine, I don’t know you well, then.” You couldn’t disguise the disappointment in your voice, no matter how hard you tried, “Why have you been quiet all morning?”

He swallowed, gaze sharper and a little less soft than he usually was when he met your eyes, “I’m just tired.”

Well. There was nothing you could say to that, not when he was so clearly not telling you the truth, not when he was being so fucking stubborn you couldn’t even get through to him. He was pissed and it was clearly simmering under his skin, a little too volatile for you to be around him, but before you could walk away and leave him be, you knew you had to at least have the upperhand. 

“Why–” He started, sighing before stopping to clench his jaw, “Why is it bothering you?”

“A few reasons.” You straightened, hands leaving the countertop to fold across your chest, “I don’t appreciate being ignored or lied to. You’ve been off since the restaurant last night, and instead of telling someone what’s wrong – because it’s so clear something is, even if you deny it – you’re bottling it up and, quite frankly, I feel like if I don’t at least ask you, you’ll just push me away, and I refuse to let you do that.”

He squinted his eyes, pulling a face and huffing in disbelief, “I’m not pushing you away.”

“Good.” You shrugged, “Because I refuse to lose you over some misunderstanding.”

He was silent, but he wasn’t looking away from you. If anything, his silence seemed to be some kind of admission – that you were right about something, and some of the tension seemed to ebb away. Slightly.

You swallowed, feeling your features soften as something seemed to prickle at the back of your mind. You felt nervous goosebumps rise on the back of your neck, and you knew if you didn’t bite the bullet now, then you’d probably not bring it up at all.

“Why did you tell Mat our relationship was complicated?” 

The silence was almost palpable, and with a simple question, the tension seemed to return immediately and tenfold what it just was. Tyson seemed to react instantaneously, and at first – judging from the sudden flush of his cheeks and the way he was shaking his head, you’d expected him to deny, deny, deny, just like he’d done at every question you’d posed in his direction within the past three minutes or so. 

His curls seemed to bounce slightly with his motions, and his lips parted in clear shock, “Mat shouldn’t have told you that.” Was all he settled for, a little sadly.

You inhaled sharply, feeling less hesitant when he didn’t seem to want to argue about it – after all, what was the point?

“It wasn’t Mat that told me, it was Toni.”

“Either way,” Tyson shrugged, “That was private.”

You blinked, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” He echoed, brows raised in silent incredulousness.

“Look, it doesn’t matter whether it was private or not right now. It wasn’t meant for me to hear about, fine, but I have, and I want to know why our relatio—why you think we’re complicated.”

Tyson pursed his lips, gesturing to you, “Why do you want to know? Why is it such a big deal that you care what I think about our relationship?”

You’d never known him to be so stubborn. It had never taken you this much effort to get him to answer a question truthfully – and it wasn’t even as if you were being unreasonable in your asking him.

“Because ever since I found out that’s what you think, things have been complicated, and things have gone so completely downhill that it’s scaring me–”

“Or maybe since you found out, you’re just overthinking everything.” He interrupted, arching a challenging brow in your direction.

“Am I though?” You asked, nerves, adrenalin and a rather dangerous combination of a ‘fuck it’ attitude coursing through every cell in your body, right from the tips of your toes to the ends of your hair, “Because it didn’t seem like there was much to overthink last night when you put Jamie’s number on my bedside table and then had a strop in the bathroom.”

Tyson didn’t waste a single second, “I didn’t strop.”

“What, then, did you stub your toe?” You quipped, now scowling in his direction, “And before you answer that, please bear in mind that I can tell exactly when you’re lying.”

He paused, staring unblinkingly straight at you, a hardness to his jaw and you could tell he was gearing himself up to be defensive, but it seemed your words had some sort of effect because he rolled his eyes and threw his head to the ceiling for a second, letting out a frustrated sigh. When he swung back to look in your direction, there was something a little raw written across the planes and creases in his face.

“Fine.” He announced, pulling a stool out at the island, orange segments long forgotten. He glanced pointedly at the stool opposite, but you shook your head. You had too much nervous energy to even consider sitting still. A lap around the entire island seemed like it should have done the trick, but to do that you’d be walking out on a rather important conversation. 

He laced his hands together, forearms pressed tightly against the counter. You could almost imagine the cold seeping into the crevices of his skin, and knowing Tyson he’d probably find the cold soothing more than anything.

He took a rather shaky breath and a moment to compose himself before making direct eye contact with you. It was the way he looked at you that seemed to quieten the rushing in your head but did little to calm your pulse.

“I don’t like seeing you…” he hesitated, cheeks flushing, and although it looked like it took a great deal of effort to keep his eyes on you despite the difficulty of it, “flirt with other people.” He shook his head, as though he was a little ashamed by his words, “It hurts. And it really hurt when I found that guy's number folded up in my jacket pocket for me to find. I thought maybe you’d put it there on purpose…I don’t know.”

You inhaled, attempting to calm everything, “I know Jamie because we met in Vancouver at one of your games a while ago, and he did flirt…” Tyson’s shoulders slumped, “until he recognised me – not that I would have reciprocated it.”

“Then why do you have his number?” 

“He told me about a job opportunity; he owns a firm, and we got talking about work and it turned out he had an opening for a job closer to where I lived and also paid more. So he gave me his number for when I needed details.”

“And you left it in my pocket because…”

This time it was your turn to be sheepish, “I didn’t want it to get crumpled in my bag when you gave me your jacket and then I forgot about it…because I was thinking about why you didn’t tell that lady we weren’t together.” You spoke hesitantly, voice trailing off.

“Oh, well,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “it was just easier than the truth.”

There was a pinprick of disappointment that started in your chest, but you refused to let it bleed into something more heartbreaking, “Which is?”

He suddenly appeared less unsure of himself at your question, “Fucking complicated, that’s what.”

You dropped your head into your hands, “But what about us was complicated when you told Mat that it was?”

“Are you pissed at me for saying that?” Was what left his mouth, a slight panicked expression on his face when you lifted your head out of your hands, shocked at where his mind had taken him.

“No, no. I’m not pissed at you, I’m just trying to understand.”

He nodded, swallowing, hands splayed against the marble, before he looked up at you, “If you haven’t understood by now that I like you as more than a friend, then I don’t even think I can help you to understand what’s going on.”

Time seemed to slow as your brain seemed to echo his words back at you, double speed: I like you as more than a friend.

That certainly hadn’t been what you’d expected to hear – not straight from his mouth and not so bluntly. Every time you’d ever approached a conversation about dating with Tyson, he seemed to clam up and give brief comments, perhaps a little embarrassed by the entire topic. Needless to say, what had just left his mouth, in full confidence, was a stark contrast to previous conversations.

And despite everything raging in your mind (Tyson’s admission definitely relating to around half of that), there was only one thing that seemed to jump to the forefront of your concern:

“You do?” The question left you before you could contain it, and you knew if Tyson hadn’t been so close already, barely an arms length away, he wouldn’t have heard it because you knew, without even catching onto the way he seemed to lean closer as though he almost missed it, that you were a little breathless.

Tyson caught his bottom lip with his teeth for a moment, and the brief pause almost had you wondering if he’d changed his mind already – if it weren’t for the way he was looking at you.

In theory, he wasn’t exactly looking at you any differently as to how he’d been looking at you for the past few months – you knew that now, but it only seemed to confuse you more: if he’d been looking at you this softly and with this kind of…adoration for so long, then you really must have been blind to it, exactly like he’d just said.

His eyes were wide, but almost with a kind of shy curiosity, like he was looking at something for the first time and trying to figure it out, and his head was tilted with amusement. There was a tentative smile on his face, as though he was truly unsure of how to proceed, and he just looked so homely in that moment, with the open back door providing an almost cinematic backdrop.

Somewhere, for you, the line had been blurred when it came to the complicated nature of your relationship, but it felt more like someone had drawn a charcoal line a long time ago and since blown off the dust without your knowledge, until you’d been presented with the issue, that to you, at the time, hadn’t been an issue.

Toni telling you what Tyson had said had changed everything – but you were sure you’d felt like this for a while, just unconsciously. A small part of you had been flattening any feelings you could have possibly had for the man in front of you purely just because you’d been terrified of what it could have meant.

Tyson was your cousin’s teammate, and probably your best friend, and for that to change, he then became something you could lose. And a world without Tyson…

Instead of actually answering your question, he raised a brow, “I thought you knew?”

You shook your head, “How could I have known?” You felt your voice raise a little, a hand going up to slap against the counter – it wasn’t aggressive by any means, nor was it particularly loud, but it didn’t stop Tyson frowning at the action, “I flirted and flirted and you gave me nothing. You stopped altogether, what did you expect me to do with that?”

“I–I thought you were joking, I…You meant all of that?” He spluttered, frowning in confusion, and if you hadn’t been frustrated by the obvious miscommunication issues, you’d have found it rather adorably endearing.

“Yeah.” You nodded.

“So you didn’t know how I felt? How I feel about you?” He asked, a little sadly.

“How could I have known if you never said or did anything outside of the realm of friendship?”

He stared, mouth parted, “I thought you knew.” His voice was strained, telling of his own frustrations.

“If I had known I would have done something about it.”

That seemed to get his attention, and colour rushed to his cheeks, the tips of his ears even tinging another colour, “You–”

The front door slammed open with a resounding thud, and you both froze, words dying on your tongues as your heads snapped in the direction of the front room, anticipating Toni and Mat to come walking through the door. You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling a little, and you hurried to hide them behind your back, turning around to lean against the counter. You could feel Tyson’s eager gaze burning the side of your face.

Everything was about to change, now. But you’d take it one step at a time.

Maybe that’s why, when Mat and Toni walked into the room wearing identical expressions of ‘what’s gone on here?’ after so much as just glimpsing you and Tyson awkwardly making an active effort to avoid looking at each other, you made the excuse you’d left something behind in the brunch place you’d gone to, and instead left house and didn’t return until a few hours later (you’d texted the group chat and told everyone you’d gotten distracted so they didn’t send out a search party). 

It also happened to be sheer luck that when you’d arrived back at the house, armed with some goodies and presents for your friends back home, you hadn’t so much as even seen Tyson in all the time it took you to run upstairs and shower before dinner. 

You guessed it was karma for running away when it came to the promised movie night, Set It Up was queued up to be played, and Mat and Toni were sprawled out together on the one sofa with Tyson lounging in the remaining armchair.

He seemed to spot your appearance first, a bowl of leftovers on his lap as well as his own food in his hand, and even in the dimmed lights you could see the way he seemed to do a double-take when he saw you. He offered a shy, unsure smile in your direction, but before he could do anything else, it was Toni that was talking.

“Tyson, budge up.” She ordered, not even sparing you a glance, and you were kind of grateful she didn’t, because you knew that if she had looked at you she’d have been able to read something there and the last thing you wanted was to not be prioritising Tyson.

But…that armchair was incredibly small for two people, which meant that Toni had to have sensed something was a little off when she’d walked into the kitchen earlier.

She was still meddling.

“It’s fine, I can just grab a cushio–” 

Words failed you when Tyson shook his head, picked up your bowl from his lap and slid to the floor in front of the chair without a word and mid-chew. He threw his head back, gesturing you to take the chair, but when he offered you your bowl, you hesitated.

He barely had time to show confusion before you’d tugged his wrist and patted the barely-there space next to you.

He blinked, the movie beginning to play in the background. You shot a careful look towards the sofa, but Mat and Toni both had their backs to you guys, and even if they didn’t, their eyes were fixed on the screen.

“Are you sure?” Tyson whispered, and even at the thought of ending up half-cuddled next to him to simply sit and watch a film and eat some food sent pleasant goosebumps erupting across your skin.

You were warm having just gotten out of the shower, but you felt your temperature rise a little in anticipation, “Yeah.”

He said nothing else, but heaved himself up off the floor, and you took the liberty of freeing the hand that had been holding your bowl before you stood up and gently pushed him to sit down before steeling yourself. You were nervous, it felt like there was a swarm of bees in your chest – but what else were you supposed to do? Let him sit on the floor and suffer? Have him sit on you? You didn’t fancy your chances getting squished by a hockey player.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling when he furrowed his brows, about to protest when he realised he was the one sitting and you were the one standing, until you sat down next to him – rather, half-sat on him, throwing the closest thigh to him over the top of one of his and settling back against his shoulder, still side-by-side.

You were both wearing joggers and a hoodie, but as soon as you settled against him, you seemed to feel about ten times more cosy than before: Tyson was warm, combatting the chills that had preceded your nerves, and despite the close nature, you were pleased to find out that he was a comfy pillow.

This was the most you’d ever touched each other.

That realisation seemed to dry your mouth and have a spoonful of food stopping mid-way to your mouth, even despite the rumbling protest from your stomach.

Tyson was watching you out of the corner of his eye, you could feel the intensity graze the side of your cheek, and you turned minutely to look at him, glad the dim lights provided the safe sanctuary for you to be able to blush in peace.

“Are you okay?” He looked concerned – probably a result of you immediately running away after your earlier conversation, but there was a lightness to his features that hadn’t been there in a while.

He looked more at ease, and that seemed to immediately eliminate any and all nerves you’d just been experiencing. You were in this thing together – whatever it was and whatever it will be, if anything ever comes of it – but at the base of it all, you were friends.

You nodded, “I’m fine. I just needed a breather.”

He didn’t say anything, but you could make out the dull shine of his eyes and subtle nod of acknowledgement.

“Are you okay?”

He tried a smile, pushing himself further back into the cushions of the sofa, making you slide further towards him, your shoulder blade firmly tucked against his shoulder, “Yeah.”

You paused for a moment, debating with yourself on whether or not to say the thing that had been bugging you since earlier, but you had Tyson’s attention, no one was watching you, and there was always a movie to turn to if something went askew, so you went for it, albeit a bit uncertainly, “I don’t like seeing you flirt with other people either, by the way.” You whispered faintly, before immediately turning back to the movie and shovelling in a mouthful of your dinner, a little too embarrassed to meet his eyes and gauge his reaction.

He’d frozen, though, that much you could make out from underneath you. And at first you thought he wasn’t going to say or do anything at all, but he leaned his head closer to your ear, “I told her I was taken,” there was a pregnant pause, and you held your breath, eyes still glued on the film playing, “by you.”

You pressed your lips together to hide a small smile, and turned to face him, noses bumping accidentally. You inhaled sharply, pulling away to put an unsuspicious amount of space between you both, “You seem to have a habit of pretending we’re together.”

He just smiled.

***

You hadn’t ever anticipated having to use the spare set of pyjamas you’d packed on this trip. Spare: not with the intention of using them to show anything off, per se, but spare in case you got toothpaste on anything. Your usual pyjamas weren’t exactly anything special; just a t-shirt/long pant combo because no matter where you were in the world, you always seemed to get cold in the night and long pants did the job better than shorts ever could.

Yet, you found yourself cleaning your teeth in a spare pair of buttoned up sleep shorts and an old lace-trimmed vest-top, both of which were too small in some places. They weren’t noticeably too small, but there was definitely more skin shown.

That being said, your intentions weren’t exactly to seduce Tyson right then (after all, he had seen you in a bikini), but to at least make him a little nervous.

And it seemed to do the trick, because he wandered into the room innocently after you’d finished brushing your teeth, again wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and displaying a torso that you could now appreciate in all its glory and not have to sneak glances at him, and promptly stopped after the door shut behind him, clearing his throat.

His eyes seemed to first stick to your face, to which you offered a friendly smile and continued to tidy clothes away and go about your nightly routine, but you could tell they didn’t remain on your face. They travelled down, first to your exposed shoulders, then to the ever-so-slightly strained floral pattern on your camisole top, down to the slither of skin exposed above your shorts, and then they travelled the length of your legs.

He was shameless about it too, and it reminded you so strongly of the day he’d picked you up to go to the team meal and eventually asked you about this very trip, that it had you wondering if that’s when things changed for him – because he was never the same after that. Until now.

Then, as if remembering himself, he blinked and backpedalled, a hand on the door handle, “I can sleep downstairs. I’d understand if you’re not comfortable sharing a bed after everything–”

You frowned, “You know I reciprocate your feelings, right?”

He grinned boyishly, nodding with some enthusiasm, “I do. But I don’t want to cross a line and make things more uncomfortable.”

You stared, lips parting.

You’d never had that before: someone that considerate.

“Don’t go.” Was all you could manage, before you turned back to where you’d been absentmindedly tidying the top of the chest of drawers.

He didn’t take much convincing, and instead stepped into the bathroom to clean his teeth.

When he walked back out, you were brushing your hair, and partly just to see his reaction (partly also to just say what you were thinking), you blurted, “You look nice.”

He stopped in the doorway, swallowing and noctable looking down at himself. When he met your eyes once more, he was pulling an odd face, though the red splotches on his chest were hard to miss (he blushed on his chest?), “I’ve looked like this the entire week.”

“I’m aware.”

He just launched himself onto the bed, groaning into his pillow.

***

Twenty-four hours later, nothing had changed, though that was mostly due to the fact that the boys had wandered off and you and Toni had decided to go shopping, but by the end of the day the only thing that had changed was that you had a new book courtesy of Tyson,  and he had a Martha’s magnet to add to his souvenir collection, courtesy of you.

“Are you still awake?” The whisper was faint, barely more than a heavy breath, but you still heard it.

It was hard not to hear it when you were so attuned to him laying next to you, both of you on your backs and staring at the ceiling, pretending the silence wasn’t palpable. You’d been trying to get to sleep for the better part of an hour and a half, but there was something about knowing he was doing the same thing barely two feet from you that had your brain unable to shut up and actually focus on getting some much-needed sleep.

It wasn’t anything new that you hadn’t already felt with him, but it was new in the sense that you knew how he felt and he knew how you felt, but you hadn’t actually talked anymore about it since a couple of days ago, and it was eating you up inside.

You inhaled softly, trying to get some air into your lungs to calm the sudden spike of nerves that had sent your pulse skyrocketing at the mere sound of his voice. There was something so illicit about knowing you were free to do and say anything in the haven of the room, knowing neither Mat or Toni were at all aware of the new developments.

You hadn’t felt like that in years.

“Yeah.” You whispered back, resisting the urge to smile giddily when you felt him roll on his side to face you.

“Do, uh,” you could practically hear his own smile bleed through his words, and it spurred you on to copy him, packing your pillow down so you could see him a little clearer as you rolled onto your side. His mouth shut when you were face-to-face, but there was a stifled smirk through his pressed lips, before he continued, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The heaviness of your eyelids seemed to answer for you, “Not right now, I think I’m too tired.”

He hummed, and from the crack through the bathroom door, you could just make out the outline of a mass of curls and the vague shimmer of his eyes, “Can I just clear something up with you?”

“Sure.”

“Is it okay with you if I take you out on a date when we get home? I’d like to do this properly.”

“That’s fine with me,” you paused, “but what…are there rules to ‘doing this properly’?”

“Uh,” Tyson hesitated, and you could tell from the tone of his voice alone that he’d already thought about it – an unspoken admission that had your mouth drying and your pulse skyrocketing for a completely different reason, as adrenaline seemed to spike in your system, “That depends.”

You swallowed, noticing the thick blanket of tension that had dropped over the both of you. You knew Tyson could feel it too because he was fidgeting under the covers and his hands couldn’t seem to find one singular place to rest on top of the sheets. If you could see what he was doing, you’d guess he was clenching and unfurling his fist.

“On what?” You asked, feigning naivety.

He sucked in a shallow breath, “Whether that offer to help dress me still stands.”

There was a pregnant pause, and you didn’t dare to move a single muscle. Anticipation had rooted you to the spot, “Dress you?” You repeated, slowly.

You vaguely saw Tyson nod, “Or the other way around.”

“Preferably.” You muttered, “But…” You wanted to say you’d think about it, try to make yourself believe you could wait a little longer, but the restlessness settling in your bones – that had settled and accumulated over the last few weeks, months, maybe – seemed to speak for itself when what left your mouth were the words: “I think I need something to eat.”

And before Tyson could even say anything, you’d thrown the duvet back and started walking down the hallway, and down the stairs. 

Usually when you couldn’t sleep and got hungry again you could ignore the feeling, but you had to get out of that bed with Tyson looking, quite literally, mouthwateringly pretty right in front of you before you did something you’d both regret, such as jumping his bones. Though, you could take some relief in the fact that he clearly was thinking along the same lines judging from his comments.

You’d barely been standing in front of the open fridge, the cold air soothing your scorching body, before you could hear another set of footsteps follow you in and an equally warm body come in to cage against your back – not touch, no, but one of his hands rested just above yours on the door handle, and his other brushed teasingly against the exposed skin on your side, not just sending a jolt of shock to the ends of your toes, but a promise of something more to come – before he reached past you and took an orange from the open bag.

“What do you feel like having?” He murmured into your ear, the gravel of his voice really doing nothing to ease the tension and mounting need that you’d tried to seek relief for.

At this moment in time, every effort seemed inexplicably futile, and Tyson was doing everything to ensure that.

There were a few things that floated through your mind, some more unsavoury than others, but the main thing you felt like having, other than food, was him. And judging from the cocky glint in his eye as he stuck his tongue against the wall of his cheek when you snuck a glance at him, you could tell he knew exactly what you were thinking.

You didn’t know whether starting this thing with him was going to be a blessing or a curse if he knew you so well already.

“Maybe a kiwi–”

“I’m allergic to kiwi.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant, quick lie, “What a damn shame.” You tutted disappointingly, shaking your head.

You knew it was a test, to see what you were thinking, where he could possibly end up by the end of the night – if you ate it, he’d know you weren’t quite ready for anything, but if you chose to not eat it, well…Only: “I know you’re not allergic to kiwi, you’ve eaten it in front of me before. But nice try.”

You reached a hand inside the fridge, stepping into him a little – enough to feel the rigidity against your leg in his shorts, and hear the low groan he’d tried to hide – and pulling a kiwi from the fridge before ducking under his arm, relishing in the way his eyes were scrunched shut, a painful smile on his face. 

He sauntered over to where the lightswitch was, flicking the lights on along the counter, and you blinked at the sudden brightness, cutting the kiwi in half and opening the drawer to take out a spoon. You looked straight at Tyson, marvelling the tanned, toned ridges of his torso. There were shadows in his collarbones, and his chest was splotched with red lesions that continued up to his cheeks. If you touched his cheeks, you’d know the skin would be burning, but your eyes found themselves travelling downwards to where his stomach was tensed, half-hard in his boxers.

He cleared his throat just as you’d spooned a mouthful of kiwi in, and your eyes flew up to meet his blown pupils and rather ravenous stare as he raised a brow in your direction, fingers working to unpeel his orange. You felt yourself blush, and if he noticed the way you adjusted how you were standing leant against the counter he didn’t say anything, but you couldn’t help noticing the way his tendons flexed or the way his fingers worked expertly to peel away the rind.

He met you at the island, standing directly opposite you, not in the last bit bothered by his rather straining issue or how, as you both stood silently, quite obviously not able to look at anything other than each other, you were getting more restless by the second as desire started to unfurl and lick at your insides.

“Are you okay?” You muttered, swallowing your last piece of kiwi and placing the bowl on the side.

He inhaled deeply, tongue swiping at his lower lip, chest puffing with air, “‘M frustrated.”

You licked the remaining kiwi juice off your fingers, delighting in the way he seemed to slow at your motions. His jaw clenched and, as though he couldn’t take looking at you again, he forced his attention back at the remaining segment of his orange, “Like…” you started, unable to help feeling a little amused at the current predicament, “Sexually, or?”

His eyes rolled to you, a look written on his face that was nothing short of screaming ‘are you fucking kidding me, right now?’, and chewed the remaining segment of orange, “No.”

You crossed your ankles, tailbone pressing into the countertop uncomfortably, but the pain seemed to distract you from your issue, “Pity, I could have helped you out.” You hid your hands behind you, almost trembling with the need to be touched by the man in front of you, but not quite wanting to give in yet.

Tyson huffed a bitter laugh, the sound going straight to your core, and before you could even blink he’d put himself next to you; this time he’d chosen to eliminate any space, the side of his body pressed tightly against yours from your shoulders to your shins. You couldn’t tell if the skin contact on the exposed areas was a relief or just downright torturous, because now you’d felt what it was like to be pressed against him, you didn’t know how long you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself.

Tyson was just downright addictive.

“I definitely underestimated how much of a tease you were gonna be.” He muttered, dipping his head a little lower so his nose was bumping against the side of your cheek. 

Your breath hitched in your chest, and your eyes instantly zeroed in on his lips before looking back up at him, helpless to the effect he has on you, “That’s pretty bold coming from someone who hasn’t even kissed me ye—”

***

This is it.

There was a kind of ‘where do we go from here’ finality to the thought that had seemingly buried itself in your head last night – it was one of the last things you remembered before falling asleep, and it seemed it was the first that echoed through your mind the moment you woke.

That, and the delicious roughness of a warm palm sliding across the skin on your hip, fingers teasing gently and patiently at the elastic of your lace panties, like the owner was biding his time to wake you up gently.

What was one supposed to do after having the best sex of their life? 

Even at the mere memory of it, goosebumps rose on your skin – Tyson clearly catching the change when he placed a delicate, warm kiss on your shoulder blade, the feel of his smile imprinted into your skin as he did so. The action seemed to cause some kind of visceral reaction within you, and despite waking up mere seconds earlier, you suddenly felt more awake than you had ever been in such a short space of time.

Even so, just to toy with him a little longer, you kept your eyes firmly shut, sighing through your nose and snuggling a little deeper into your pillow, trying your absolute hardest to ignore the sudden course of liquid desire that had flooded through your system and subsequently overridden any other habitual thought you tended to have in a morning.

Tyson’s hand froze on your hip, and you felt the mattress dip behind you, a shadow suddenly appearing over your shoulder as he manoeuvred himself around you in an insurmountable display of strength and control – the very display that left you no choice but to open your eyes and hide an almost shy smile in the fabric of your pillow.

His cheeks were a little flushed already, and his lips were redder than usual – another reminder of your early morning activities, and when he caught your eye he grinned mischievously, showing no sign of having only just woken up. His eyes were wide and not at all bleary, an observation that had you vaguely frowning as he slid himself from where he’d been nestled against your back, to laying in front of you.

“Did I wake you up?” He asked innocently, his hand almost instantly returning its place to rest against your hip, although this time with a little force behind his grip as he used the leverage to pull you closer, looping your leg over his hip. There wasn’t even a single hint of apology or remorse for him having woken you up, that much was clear from the twinkle of trouble that had taken up permanent residence in the depths of his eyes since he’d first kissed you.

What were you supposed to say, but the truth? He’d woken you up, that had been his intention, but you weren’t about to confess it was because of the way you now seemed to be in tune with every brief touch of his against your skin.

“Yes.” You mumbled, yawning. 

You weren’t the slightest bit annoyed, either, a fact he seemed to pick up on.

“Sorry.” He shrugged, and you swallowed desperately when he seemed to unconsciously roll his hips up into yours, already half-hard. Almost instantly you seemed to arch into him a little, a hand automatically reaching out to steady yourself against his bulging bicep. His eyes seemed to hood at your reaction, “But the heart wants what the heart wants.”

You didn’t hold back on rolling your eyes, but there was something so enticing and equally as distracting with the way he was looking at you, and you knew, then and there, that you’d be an utter fool not to do anything but give into him when he looked that good this early in the morning . Especially not when you knew you could now freely shut him up in a way he made no complaints against.

Not when you knew you could have him completely at almost any moment now – almost, because Mat and Toni weren’t to know about the two of you, not yet, at least. 

Morning breath be damned (you’d done infinitely worse things earlier), you proved your point twice in bed, a little hurried considering it was verging on the time Mat and Toni would start wandering around downstairs, and once more in the shower.

It was a miracle you’d remembered to remind him not to leave any marks that could be seen if you wore a bikini, because as soon as the both of you had rather bashfully left the room, not even a trace of awkwardness remaining but knowing you’d have to at least fake it for the other two, it became clear that Mat and Toni had decided today was a beach day.

More specifically, a soccer beach day.

And you’d never been more thankful that sunglasses could be a cheap invention, because you spent the entire walk over and setting up on the sand trying and failing not to A, blush every time you caught Tyson smirking at you, B, blush everytime Tyson got that insatiable hunger in his eyes (because that was a thing), and C, look directly at the points on Tyson that you knew were home to dark purple lesions, courtesy of aforementioned escapades (of which were hidden by his swimming trunks). 

It was all rather thrilling, you thought. But knowing exactly what Tyson was capable of and the extent of the pleasure he could give you so easily, you were having a hard time not looking at him or wanting to drag him to the nearest private or secluded area to have your way with him.

The man was a fucking God – literally. 

In fact, you thought you’d both managed to pull it all off thus far until Mat paused, standing up in front of one of the towels and looking rather confusedly between you and Tyson from where you sat opposite each other on parallel towels of your own.

“What?” You immediately asked, mind immediately shooting to him having guessed what had transpired, and Tyson seemed to think the same thing because he suddenly looked very grave, eyes darting between you and Mat with some caution.

“You guys look really tired.” Mat said, lifting his sunglasses onto his forehead and folding his arms across his chest.

You let out a relieved breath internally, tilting your head to look up at him and simultaneously relishing in the fact that Toni wasn’t actually close enough to cast an interrogating ear into this specific conversation. She’d inevitably prod and poke, and although you loved her, she’d most definitely wriggle out the truth somehow and that was the last thing you needed.

See, you and Tyson had an agreement: you could have sex with each other for the remainder of this vacation. When you’d get back home the ‘proper’ dating etiquette would immediately apply itself once more — that being you go on dates and so on.

Only, there was the only issue of the fact that you’d both agreed to that prior to having sex with each other.

And now? You weren’t entirely sure you wanted to stop having sex with Tyson for the sake of just delaying the inevitable. To put it simply, he’d completely ruined you, and judging from the obscene sounds he’d made and the way he’d acted after that first time, he felt the same.

“Yeah,” you started, “We weren’t tired so we watched a movie really late.” You lied.

Mat nodded, “Did you guys go into the kitchen too? There was some stuff on the counter.”

“Yeah, we got hungry.” Tyson excused, playing nonchalant incredibly well.

“Cool.” Mat mumbled, inhaling deeply, “So what movie did you guys watch?”

“The Hangover.”

“The Amazing Spider-Man.”

Fuck.

Mat raised a brow in your direction, and you could feel the panic begin to rise—

“The Hangover and The Amazing Spider-Man.” Tyson intervened coolly, leaving you to just nod rather dumbly.

Mat nodded, seemingly accepting of the answer before walking a little way over to where Toni was sorting herself out. You waited until he was out of earshot before sharing a rather amused, yet bewildered look with Tyson, who – unlike you – was blessed in having his back to the two of them, and who also could only raise a teasing brow in your direction before fishing through your shared beach bag and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen.

Your mind instantly flashed back to the last time you’d ‘helped’ each other put on sunscreen, only this time there was an obvious relationship change – and clearly devious ulterior motives. Nevertheless, you patted the space on your towel, ensuring Mat and Toni were occupied on the other side of the umbrella. 

So far, you hadn’t noticed any signs of them trying to push the two of you together either, but you rather supposed that was due to the weird vibes you’d been giving off the past few days with all the tension and whatnot. But if either of them noticed a slight change, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that they’d instantly resume their matchmaking.

It was why you breathed a little easier when they both stood up and made their way to the water, unintentionally giving the two of you some privacy.

“You’re gonna have to put it on your front yourself, though–”

His groan of protest interrupted your sentence, and you rolled your eyes fondly, standing up to greet him. Tyson is attractive, insanely so, that was something you weren’t immune to recognising even the first time you’d ever met him, but he just looked positively biteable, angelic and irresistible all in a way that had you lost for words when you ended up that close to him again.

“Hi.” he tilted his head adorably, smiling equally as endearingly.

He had a faded navy cap on his head, curls peeking out through the adjustable tag, and his hands were hung by his side, one clutching the bottle and the other tapping his fingers against the outside of his thigh. He was smiling with his whole body, crinkles by his eyes and chest puffed a little.

You could do nothing but reciprocate his infectious smile, your hand almost nervously going up to adjust his own cap on your head – a worn-in one that had rugged applique numbers on the front – before taking the blue bottle from him, doing nothing to avoid touching his hand at all. His palm was warm, and he had such a tight grip that you shot him an unimpressed glance and had to use both hands to pry his fingers away, but you knew he was revelling in the touch. In fact, somewhere between you successfully retrieving the sunscreen and popping the cap, he’d swivelled the hat on your head backwards, spinning around to let you spray his back and shoulders.

You did, taking your sweet, sweet time dragging your palms across his skin, relishing in the way he shivered when you ran a teasing hand beneath the band of his trunks, and the way he seemed to lean his head backwards when you massaged his shoulders.

“Can they see us?” He asked once he’d turned back around to face you, his eyes glued on where you presumed Toni and Mat were splashing in the shallows of the water.

You followed his eyes, turning to throw a casual glance over your shoulder. They could definitely see you guys, that was for certain, but their attention was solely on each other – so much so that even if they could see you , you knew they wouldn’t actually see you.

“They’re not watching us.” Was what you settled for, quirking a curious and rather suspicious brow in Tyson’s direction when a mischievous grin presented itself on his face, “I don’t like that look.”

He took the bottle of sunscreen out of your hand, maintaining slow and steady eye contact, the still cheeky look planted on his face, “It’s the only one I got.”

And before you could protest to what he was about to do – because that wasn’t too difficult when he aimed the bottle in your direction – he sprayed two shots of sunscreen across your chest, just above your bikini, and the sudden cold in the blazing sun immediately sent goosebumps prickling across your skin.

“They still not watching?” 

You shook your head, “Don’t make it obvious, though.”

He grinned, throwing the bottle on the towel, before not-so-subtly smearing the product across your chest, simply using the application of sunscreen as an excuse to slip his hand inside the cup of your bikini–

“Fuck, Mat’s coming.” He rolled his eyes, ripping his hand out of your bikini with a disappointed huff before throwing himself on the towel on the floor in an attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t doing anything he shouldn’t have, and you stifled a laugh.

“You guys nearly done? You want a quick game of soccer?” Mat asked, unzipping his backpack to pull out a soccer ball that he must have bought earlier, and you and Tyson shared a look.

Fifteen minutes later, your shins were stinging from sand exfoliation as a result of Tyson having tackled you rather brutally to the floor, and your cheeks were aching from grinning. The teams were the same as they had been for the pool game: Mat and you against Tyson and Toni – mostly to balance out skill, and also because there wasn’t really anything more fun than to trash talk the living daylights out of Toni and Tyson. 

Though, it seemed Mat was holding back on tackling Toni, and putting all his effort into completely decking Tyson: the man had sand embedded in his curls and you knew if you so much as poked his cheek it’d transfer to your finger.

Having said that, Mat’s efforts weren’t exactly wasted – you were currently beating the other two by four goals (the infrastructure consisted of sunscreen bottles), and everything was going smoothly. There weren’t too many people on your stretch of the beach, and anyone who did happen to pass kept a safe distance. The tackles were fair and safe – or at least, they were until Mat landed a particularly hard one on Tyson and the latter’s foot got caught in the sand as his body fell the other way.

There was a groan as he fell to the floor, and all three of you still standing froze where you were, the ball slowly rolling to a stop. Mat was the first to move when he realised Tyson wasn’t moving – they were taught to stay still if they thought something was really wrong, and although he never said anything, it was clear he was thinking he’d just put his best friend out for the next few months.

The guilt was written all over his face, and it seeped into his actions: his hands were trembling and the questions rolling off his tongue were that of broken speech.

“Wha…ankle or…scale of…” It was as though he couldn’t decide what to ask for his overwhelming concern, and Toni tried to pull him away a little to give you some space to kneel down next to Tyson.

His hand was clutching his ankle and his face was screwed up in pain, and his chest was hitching with each breath for his pain, and even looking at him like that sent something heavy dropping in your stomach. It felt an awful lot like dread.

“Where does it hurt?” You rested a (what you hoped to be) comforting touch to his shoulder, fighting to keep the concern out of your own voice, incredibly aware that Mat and Toni were standing looking over your shoulder.

He inhaled sharply, managing to push himself up into a sitting position, his hand still clamped rather tightly around his ankle. It didn’t look so bad when it happened in the moment, but with the way he was acting, something had clearly gone very wrong. Perhaps weeks off in physio-wrong.

“Argh.” He clenched his jaw, lips pulled tightly together, “It’s my ankle. It’s not that bad I don’t think, but I think I might have sprained it–”

“Fuck.” Mat sighed behind you, and you turned to look at his pale face.

Before you could even attempt to tell him it wasn’t too bad, that sprains weren’t exactly career-ending, Tyson beat you to it.

“It’s nothing. It wasn’t your fault, you tackled me and I turned to avoid you and my foot got caught.”

You shot a look back at Tyson. Feet don’t really get caught in sand, do they? You tuned out of the conversation happening over your shoulders, and gently removed Tyson’s hand from his own ankle, trying to get a look for any possible swelling or bruising, but when he peeled his fingers away, all that you could see was sand and more sand.

Still, you didn’t say anything, not even when you could feel him trying to sneak a look at you out of the corner of his eye, not even when he used said ‘sprained’ ankle to stand up before accepting both yours and Mat’s shoulders to limp back over to the towels and bags. 

There weren’t any ice packs in the cool bags, only ice cubes, and they would have been no good against bare skin.

Naturally, the next step to that was someone going back up to the house to grab an ice pack, only when you volunteered yourself, nearly everyone had protests.

Toni: No you should stay with him. I should go.

Mat: I should go, I’ll be quick and…well, it’s my fault so–

Tyson: Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll both just go.

Tyson’s excuse certainly got a suspicious look, only he seemed to shrug it off when he stuck his bottom lip out a little further and staged a ‘this is really bothering me’ glance to his ankle and after that both Toni and Mat both seemed to buy it.

You on the other hand? You arched an eyebrow but still hid your expression of disbelief under your cap. 

His arm was heavy across your shoulders as you helped him climb the steps to the top path, and he kept grunting in pain every time he had to plant his injured foot on the floor. 

“Do we need to go to the ER and get you checked out?” You asked, the weight of his entire body leant on your shoulder becoming a little too much because you’d learnt pretty quickly that hockey players were as heavy if not heavier than they looked. 

You reached an arm further around his torso, planting your palm against his ribs, and whether it was that firmer touch or something else, he seemed to take some of the weight off your shoulder and twist his head to look behind him–

“What are you doing?”

“Can they see us?” He asked once again, suddenly a little lighter on his feet.

You frowned, turning around, only to be blocked from Mat and Toni’s view by a neat row of shops and cafes, “I don’t think so, no.”

“Oh, thank fuck.” He breathed, immediately stepping normally, the previous weight on your shoulder alleviated almost instantly as he tugged you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple and not minding the sand or the cap.

Only, his miraculously quick healing time seemed to have the completely opposite effect on you because you pulled away from him, still clutching his wrist and stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes fixed on his ankle in his sliders.

“So, you’re not–”

“No.” He shook his head, suddenly a little self-conscious, and because your head was ducked down and the brim of your cap was hiding your face, he completely missed the fond roll of your eyes and the rather impressed smile on your face, “Is…That’s okay, right? I just thought it might be nice to have an empty house. I mean, we don’t have to do anything, I just wanted to spend time with you without the other two.”

“You know you didn’t have to fake an injury to do that, right?” 

The tension seemed to dissolve off his face when he saw you were more than amused at his antics, and all at once he pulled you back to him, a cheeky grin on his face, “I know, but if it was any other excuse I don’t think it would have worked so well.”

“Maybe.” You hummed, “Your acting skills were pretty good, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Then, after a rather deep breath to fight through some of the nerves, “Y’know, I wouldn’t mind doing stuff when we get back in.”

“Yeah?” His tone was softer this time, as were his eyes.

“It’d be a shame if we didn’t capitalise on certain opportunities.”

***

Toni had figured something out almost as soon as she walked through the door. You didn’t know if you were trying too hard to be nonchalant or if it was something else, but the very second she walked through the door and set her eyes upon you from where you were tidying up the kitchen, she narrowed her eyes. And then you watched with bated breath as she scanned the entire room until she settled on Tyson, who, as previously planned, was laid on the couch with an ice pack on his ankle.

As far as you were aware, you were both fully presentable. The house didn’t smell of sex – the air fresheners took care of that perfectly well, but even so, you guys mostly stayed in your room; nothing wasn’t as it was before, which was why it was so unnerving to see her stalk right over to you.

“What’s up?” You asked slowly, your hands halting from where you were cleaning the counter.

She sidled right up to you, until her shoulder was pressed against yours, and she waited until Mat had gone upstairs before she did anything.

“So,” she started, loud enough for Tyson to turn where he was sitting to watch the two of you, “how come you two have never dated?”

The silence was loud.

You refused to look at Tyson. If you did, it would only give her leverage or something else that wouldn’t be good in any way whatsoever. Instead you looked straight at Toni, schooling your expression into one of confusion.

You’d talked about something similar with her before, but it hadn’t gone past ‘we’ve never hooked up’, and now? Well, that’s not true now, is it?

“Um…” You hesitated, well aware of Tyson’s eyes on the side of your face, “We’re just friends.” 

She pulled a face, “Yeah. You guys like each other, though.”

“Of course we do, we’re friends.” 

She paused, smiling, “You’re one of my best friends. I know when you’ve had sex.” At that she sent a rather pointed accusatory glare, laced completely with amusement, straight at the mop of curls and pair of eyes peering over the back of the couch, eagerly watching the entire interaction. At the sudden attention, his eyes widened and his brows disappeared under his hair.

“I…What?” Tyson asked, rather adorably.

“I’m sure it’s just the sun–”

“Well, you’ve always had a penchant for orbiting each other, I’ll give you that.” 

And quite frankly, you couldn’t really remember much after that, other than the fact that Toni then left the room and somehow you’d migrated to the couch, ensuring to leave an appropriate gap between you and Tyson. 

Though, if Toni had gone upstairs, then Mat probably knew, because even though Tyson was one of your closest friends, nothing really beat the extent to which you and Toni knew each other. Even though neither you or Tyson admitted anything, Toni knew.

And with that in mind, you shuffled the small gap across the cushions, head resting against the meat of Tyson’s shoulder from where he’d stretched his arm out. He seemed to freeze a little under your touch.

“Are you sure?” 

You hummed, “Mat probably knows by now anyway.” 

He moved his arm to curl around your shoulders, resting his head against yours. You tried to see if you could hear anything happening upstairs, maybe a loud exclamation from Mat, or the thumping of footsteps, but nothing happened. Or, if it did, you wouldn’t have been entirely surprised, because it was hard to hear anything apart from the rushing of blood in your ears and the faint echo of Toni’s earlier words.

She really phrased it quite nicely.

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet. We fucking suck at keeping secrets.”

[mediocreanomaly]

Vashwood x Reader Soulmate AU

Authors note: I eventually want to make this into an actual drabble but for now have the basics, that being said! I don’t know how the “your soulmate can feel your pain” au isn’t more popular in the Trigun fandom, think about all that untapped angst...

Other Parts Here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3 (Alt. End)

•When Rem first tells Vash about soulmates he has stars in his eyes. There's something comforting about the idea that the universe has already hand picked the perfect person for you

•That is until Rem continues by telling Vash how people find their soulmates

• “Rem? How do you know when someone is your soulmate?” “Well...like this!” Rem pinches Vash and Vash pouts, “what’d you do that for!”

•That’s when he learns pain is transferred between soulmates. Luckily, injuries where not, but feeling a broken bone seemed just as bad as having one to Vash. In fact Vash thought the whole thing was kinda...mean. He didn’t want to cause someone pain! Which meant for a few days the idea plagued his mind

•Until Knives is...well Knives.

• “Nai? Do you worry about hurting your soulmate?” “What are you talking about?” “You know, do you feel bad that you might hurt your soulmate?” “Vash soulmates are a human thing, when have you ever heard of a plant having a soulmate? Stop thinking about stuff like that” “oh...”

•To be fair, Nai did think he was helping his brother by consoling his worries but ironically it just makes Vash feel worse. Despite the guilt he felt about potentially hurting his soulmate, knowing he just straight up doesn’t have one stings a bit

•After that Vash just kinda...forgets about it. I mean obviously he knows soulmates exist and every once in awhile he might get slightly bummed but he knows it’s for the best, especially after the fall. He’s got too much on his plate so the whole concept just stays on the back burner

•Then we jump forward a couple years (a century lmao) Vash does not think he has a soulmate, as such he’s just as careless with his body as our normal Vash is. He’s missing his arm (thanks Knives) he’s still covered in scars and he has no issue taking bullets for random bystanders because that’s who he is, and unlike the humans he doesn’t have a soulmate so who cares? (oh honey you got a big storm comin)

•Then it happens, Vash is just doing his thing when a blinding pain runs through him. It feels like his veins are on fire, like he’s being torn apart and put back together. He has to hunker down in a shitty motel for awhile because it feels so bad 

•Thing is Vash actually doesn’t put the pieces together for awhile. He’s gone this long without a soulmate so it doesn’t instantly click that he could be feeling someone elses pain, he just assumes everything he’s done on Gunsmoke the last century is finally catching up with him

•These pains keep coming back though, to the point where Vash eventually does go see Brad thinking this is either a “him neglecting his body” thing or a plant thing

•It’s neither. he’s a dumbass. Brad has to tell him it sounds like a soulmate thing considering he’s about as good in health as Vash can be. Vash argues the point for a little bit but the longer he thinks about it...

•Self lothing to the extreme. This man had purposely taken bullets, stabs, burns you name it to prevent others from getting hurt, but the whole time he’s been hurting someone?

•Here’s the thing though, obviously whoever he’s paired with has it rough too if the random blinding pains are anything to go by. Suddenly feeling like his body is being torn apart, feeling like he’s being pumped full of bullets, feeling like he’s being twisted like a rag doll, there's a weird sort of...comfort, in the fact that at least his soulmate is getting a bit of revenge on him, even if that’s not the intention 

•Then he meets Wolfwood. Now no matter what variation of their meeting you’re going with I don’t think it would take very long at all for them to realize their soulmates. I mean have you seen these two? Whether it’s Vash feeling Wolfwood get hit by a car, Wolfwood feeling Vash slam into a wall, or one of them getting shot, they’ll have a moment of “no fucking way” soon enough

•Wolfwood...is mad. Mostly because Vash in a way made his life hell. Do you know what it’s like to be eight years old and feeling like you have a bullet in your side? To feel like you’ve just fallen off a roof? It’s brutal.

•Vash profusely apologizes (and cries) explaining to Wolfwood his situation. Wolfwood, after cooling down and getting bombarded by Vash’s puppy dog eyes, relents. Besides it’s not like he didn’t get his fair share of punches in, what the Eye of Michael did to him wasn’t exactly fun

•The two of them become alot closer alot faster, I mean their soulmates how could they not? It’s comforting to the two of them. One, here’s the person they know 100% will always have their back, something neither of them have had in a long time. Second, they are the only two who understand each others pain...literally. Wolfwood has felt every time Vash has sacrificed himself before others, Vash has felt the childhood that was ripped away from Wolfwood, they know each other on a level no one else can.

•That is until a year later. The two of them are in a relationship now, and they both try to be more mindful of the other. For example, Vash dives in front of less gunfire and Wolfwood doesn’t just tank whatever's coming at him. Although, they both recognize they have high pain tolerances, so when push comes to shove...they still get their fair share of wounds. 

•One day they’re bickering at each other while setting up camp, nothing serious, it’s something stupid that they both don’t actually care about. Wolfwoods grumbling about something while he lays out sleeping bags and Vash remembers when Rem first taught him about soulmates and pinched his arm. With a shit eating grin...a plan forms

•Vash pinches his own arm. He’s a little shit when he wants to be and Wolfwood snaps his head up when he feels the sting on his arm and just like that...it’s on. Wolfwood reaches for his own arm and and pinches which...Vash returns with a another pinch

•They think it’s hilarious, the two of them pinching each other (themselves?) trading banter when suddenly...they feel a sharp pinch high on their arms, but...they’re looking at each other and neither of them did that.

•So they do it again as an experiment, this time they choose a specific spot on their arms so they know if they feel pain anywhere else, what they feel is real. They press down hard and again an annoyed pinch shoots through their shoulder.

•Now let’s get this straight, having more than one soulmate isn’t impossible, it’s just extremely rare. As for not realizing they had a third soulmate...well a normal person would have. You’ve gotten your fair share of injuries but you need to put it into context. When you wake up sore, when you stub your toe, when you jam your thumb in a door, the boys don’t really think anything of it. They wake up sore all the time, my foot hurts? probably from the recovering broken bone there. My face hurts? a bounty hunter pistol whipped me the other day of course it hurts.

•With this realization...Vash is in near hysterics. He turns to Wolfwood all teary eyed and rasp out “Nick...we’re torturing them”

•When it was the two of them they felt like they were even. Vash had his savior complex that ended with his scarred body, Nick had the Eye of Michael who rebuilt him, but you? Whoever you are you weren’t meant for this type of life. You who had been so carful to not get hurt that they hadn’t even known of you existence until right now

•The next few days will be a bit rough, they are both are pretty hard on themselves despite the fact it’s not really their fault. Vash will look like a kicked puppy replaying every time he’d gotten hurt in his head. Nick will retreat within himself, smoking alone a lot more and whatever he’s thinking about would be impossible to get out of him

•Once they realize self pity won’t help anyone they get themselves together and discuss how to handle the situation. It’s hard to find soulmates off of pain alone, it’s honestly a miracle that Vash and Wolfwood ended up finding each other

•But who knows? They travel a lot, their sure to bump into you eventually right?

•One thing is for sure, once they find you, once they meet you...they won’t let you go. In their eyes they’ve caused you a lifetime worth of pain already so once they get ahold of you it stands to reason that they’ll just have to give you enough pleasure to counter balance that...right?

[diiwata]

thg/tbosas ocs on wattpad

I don't think I ever showed you guys my ocs on wattpad... lmao! aka, my main writing platform. find me @ disk4rte!

I wanna write shorter stuff and aus on ao3, hence the creation of diiwata <3

they're character x oc fics... SUE ME. these are ocs I made for tbosas and one for thg! their moodboards are not cohesive b/c they're different fics (with the exception of 2 ocs)!

CAN'T REMEMBER TO FORGET YOU -> finnick odair

nerissa hong: victor from district 4 (66th games). l/i: finnick odair (current), davy kumar (prev). fc: kim yongji.

probably my most devastating tbh... after a terrible earthquake (known as the big one) devastates district four, they haven't had careers OR a victor in a hot minute (with the exception of finnick). after her best friend gets reaped, nerissa bravely volunteers... but the boy she's loved quietly -- davy kumar -- gets reaped alongside her, and no one volunteers for him. she ends up killing him (without meaning to) after a devastating confession on the last day of the games. the capitol has a way of warping her story, making her out to be a capitol sympathizer. in the end, the entire district grows a hatred for her because of this, and because she killed their "favored victor". she learns to put on a performance to keep her loved ones safe, and finnick acts along with her.

this fic plays around with propaganda as it explores district four unlearning what the capitol taught them, but also forming such a hatred for the capitol that they turn on a teenage girl (aka her). this is so where I got the idea of an asian d4! while this fic is a finnick/oc fic, it mostly focuses on nerissa's navigation of victor-hood. I'm especially proud of the worldbuilding I did here since it's inspired by my cultural experiences as an asian-american.

about nerissa:

her name means "sea nymph". she also shares a name with a shakespeare side character from "merchant of venice" who tricks her lover and taunts him about it. it mirrors her reputation with her home district.

her left foot was amputated as a result of her final battle with her district partner.

was a middle child (until snow made an example out of her father and brother after she tried to defend herself on live television). and she has a younger sister, coralie. her mother died during the big one.

she's in the merchant class and was a dancer that performed for d4 festivals. her father owned a repair shop, where she and her older brother worked.

her "talent" is cooking. every hunger games, she's forced to do a cooking segment with claudius templesmith.

she's two-ish years older than finnick odair (technically 14 months), and he was her mentor. she gets bitter about this fact sometimes because... what does a freshman know about winning a death match?!?

"O CHILDREN" -> reaper and treech (2 protags)

chassis harbin: exporter and boxer from district 6. l/i: reaper. fc: courtney eaton.

her biological mother was a rebel, but was killed after finding out the betrayer in the district 6 rebellion group. now, she lives in neglect as her father builds a family of his own with a woman she'd never consider her stepmother. she only worked as an exporter that sent goods to the eastern districts of panem, but after a physical (and bloody) altercation in an alleyway, the peacekeepers who capture her give her two options: get thrown in prison and executed, or join an illegal boxing ring for their entertainment... you can guess which one she chose. her job as an exporter led her to find the secret love of her life: a tame, shy delivery boy named reaper ash. the boxing ring is more sinister than they make it out to be, which is something that she finds out after her name gets called in the 10th hunger games.

she is one of the two protagonists of the fic!!! she and cariad are best friends that keep in touch via letters and phone calls. she's on the poorer side while cariad had always been better off than her. I call the poorer side of d6 "farren heights", while the wealthy neighborhood is "peregrine court"!

about chassis:

her name is a part of a car/train. it's essentially the metal framework of the car/train.

she has half siblings, twin boys named coupler and cams. they're named after train parts. although they're not entirely blood related to her, chassis thinks of them as her own sons sometimes.

she became an exporter at the age of 13, which was also the age she met reaper. love at first sight things.

chassis is friends with two exporters: ginnee, who's her neighbor and co-worker, and trek, an oc that's the son of their boss.

cariad landas: capitol transplant from district 6. l/i: treech. fc: melizza jimenez.

cariad moves to the capitol after her mother stole the plans of a new type of fuel from her own district rebellion group, and sold them to the capitol. when found out by chassis' mother, mrs. landas kills her. she goes to the capitol academy, but instead of being outspoken like her sejanus, she becomes a ditzy airhead sort of character that she named "caroline winters". with this persona, she is able to make it into their inner circle and learn all sorts of secrets. but because of this, cariad doesn't feel that she forms very authentic or personal relationships and flits between friend groups (and significant others) to feel fulfilled. going on vacation in d7 is quite fulfilling, especially when she meets a worker named treech.

the other protagonist!! in this fic, I try to explore class differences as well as privileges that not only chassis lacks, but also cariad in the capitol. I also couldn't decide if I wanted to write for reaper or treech, so I made it both.

about cariad:

her name means "love" in welsh (allegedly), but I also like that it includes the word "car".

cariad absolutely loves photography. she is gifted one upon her arrival to the capitol by her father.

although she moves around friend groups, cariad's main friends are clemmie, lyssie, persephone, sejanus, and dennis. they're all in different friend groups, though.

she's a year older than treech. they meet because she paid him to help her escape her mother. cutesy!

MÁGOA

asclepius gaul: academy student and nephew of volumnia gaul. l/i: clemensia dovecote. fc: han hyunmin.

asclepius is orphaned by the war after his parents, according to his auntie vee, were assassinated by rebels. he's lived with her ever since, but he also spent time with the family on his mother's side (he prefers their company). his aunt is terrible, and he considered his avox, avelot, to be more of a mother. asclepius was dating clemensia dovecote, but after he himself had an encounter with dr. gaul's snakes, his change of demeanor showed clemmie a violent version of him that scared her into breaking up with him. with his aunt growing desperate, the 10th hunger games brings about the concept of mentors and the idea of spectacle. while he enjoys seeing his aunt scramble around to revive her games, asclepius doesn't enjoy the fact that his ex had suddenly missed out on the action.

this is a second chance romance that's centered around acceptance and learning how to let people into your heart. asclepius is a child prodigy trying to find out the cure to his snake scales, and with clemmie sick b/c of the same reasons, it motivates him to find his cure faster.

about asclepius:

asclepius is the greek god of medicine and is often portrayed with a serpent coiled around his staff. people call him "clee" for short!

because he didn't die from the earlier prototypes of the rainbow snakes, gaul used his blood to formulate the antidote that saved clemmie from dying.

before the venom, he was geeky, timid, and accepted the ab*se from his aunt. after, he became bolder, and feared his aunt less.

he and clemmie remain civil in front of their classmates, but their friends always seem to catch on that they miss each other.

[miracleandplagueau]

So, here's a thing about Marinette.

She is a kind, rather cultured person, agrees to a lot of things, but also knows when to stand her ground and say no. The averagest of average protagonist models you can write with the exception of her obsessive personality trait. About Derision later, but she might possibly be one of the blandest characters I've seen in popular media

While watching Demon Slayer's finale yesterday, I realized something. Marinette is very much like Tanjiro. She can be both kind and badass when needed, be humble and be confident whenever the writers need her to be. Marinette is like Tanjiro -- written to be liked. She wasn't written to be unique or stand out from the crowd nor was she ever supposed to make a breakthrough in how to write a compelling protagonist to root for. She is a vessel. An empty vessel to watch in the background, because once you start analyzing her, it's over for your sanity

But why is she so hated then... She's so kind, so extremely helpful. A person everyone can get along with (famous people count too I suppose), but she also has her own frustrations like deal with brats who apparently targetted her as their victim for no apparent reason!! She has struggl-- It's nothing new. Look at it a little closer, go in depth and tell me that she has a consistent personality. She's more of a big pile of clay that the writers will model and shape according to their mood and how they want a certain storyline to end. Even Chat Noir has more consistent personality than her despite being neglected by both his own father and the writers. I guess more isn't always the merrier.

Is it actually hard to give YOUR PROTAGONIST a DAMN CONFLICT?! HER ONLY CONFLICT IS WHETHER SAYING "HI" TO ADRIEN WILL RUIN THEIR FUTURE TOGETHER. GIVE HER FLAWS GIVE HER CONSEQUENCES MAKE HER LEARN THE LESSON THE HARD WAY

Actually, I take it back. There is one conflict. Well, "conflict" or rather a turning moment for her is when she loses all miraculouses, which is followed by a nasty panic attack. That's it. That's all I could think of from the top of my head.

The only thing that really makes her stand out is her obssessive nature towards Adrien and we got some insight on why in the season 5 episode Derision and you know what I have to say about that? Fucking BULLSHIT. In a very short summary, Marinette crushed on Kim, but he humiliated her whilst working with Chloe. After that event, she decided she will only confess to someone when she knows them through and through. Putting aside the fact that we only then found out that Marinette had a friend that wasn't Alya, It's actually a total asspull in terms of Kim's behavior. Why would Marinette be friendly to Kim in Dark Cupid when he did something like THAT to her? Why is he potrayed as a funny, a little misguided himbo in the friend group - did nobody actually know about what's happened? I mean obviously they had to so why is everyone pretending like everything is fine? Why is SHE pretending everything is fine? Did she forget?! The answer is no, because Derision was not planned from the beginning. Thomas heard that his beloved protagonist isn't liked and went back to the drawing board to cook up some fake depth to her. Despite what I said, I'd actually love to see an episode like that, maybe Chloe IS the bitch we're lead to believe she is and I could've accepted it as a valid explanation to both Marinette behavior and her cruel, unchanging nature....

IF IT WAS IN SEASON ONE OR TWO

Putting a lore piece like that in the final season of the story is actually fucking ridiculous. Do you really expect me to care NOW?! When we're like 15 episodes from the FINALE OF THE SHOW? Na-ah, absolutely fucking not

Everytime I see a post praising Derision for how well written it is my stomach does a fucking cartwheel this is not an exaggeration

Marinette is like Zoe except Marinette is actually an asshole sometimes. It would be good If she was! I want to see an asshole protagonist where I'll have to see them change before I start rooting for them, but Marinette is neither changing, evolving or facing consequences. Using a miraculous for her personal gain and lashing out as Ladybug on Lila? it was a good fucking moment. I found it uncomfortable and embarassing to watch AND THAT'S A GOOD THING. IT HAD LONG LASTING CONSEQUENCES in form of Lila being a menance in return. Then again, I can't exactly praise Lila because she's equally as stupid- sorry, everyone's brains and common sense seem to evaporate when they're in Lila's closest proximity, but that's where they're similar. Everyone seems to lose their awareness when Marinette does her puppy eyes to break into a house too.

She is genuinely getting harder to watch and don't even get me started on season 5 because I've seen the leaks alright

[opinated-user]

Lily really is out here like: believe all victims! And by all I mean me and the people I currently like! But especially me! But also don't pay to much attention to what I'm saying and please forget everything instantly in case I need to change my story! Btw this person I previously claimed ran away with a pedophile as a minor (and was the one at fault for that) has actually never been molested ever! So I guess forget the pedo story! And ignore the fact that I also said if she was molested by me it would have been justified!

She is getting more despicable by the hour.

"nobody snuck up on their room to molest her while she was sleeping." cool. care to explain why did you wrote the entirety of Violate, CLO putting a lock to keep G away (which coincides with Courtney's story of how she dealt with you), and the story itself ends with CLO (the molested child) having to give an apology to G, the one who molested her? who someone could read as you wanting to create another narrative in which Courtney forgave you without you doing anything for it? you said that every reading a work has is there because the author wanted it there. why did you wanted to dramatize your sister finally stopping your molestation with a lock she had to buy and install herself? why was that important to you?

"they were the favorite who could do no wrong" so... that's why your parents have lied to the public about being no contact to her for more than 10 years? because she was their favorite? so favorite that your mom neglected to mention that she knew for a fact that your sister was alive because Courtney would harass her constantly? on her facebook your mom made it seem like she didn't even know what was happening with Courtney, meanwhile Courtney was contacting her and getting ignored. so favorite that it's why they told you the story of the "pedophile she ran away with"? remember, the same story you ran with the first time Courtney spoke up. that doesn't sound "she could get away with murder" kind of responses to me.

"they also have a history of lying to get her way." you too, LO. we have years worth of evidence and testimonies and witnesses and audio records for that one. to this day you still lie about writing Stockholm... a lie so badly put together, that even your own fans know is not true. they don't believe you anymore, LO. everytime you try to deny stockholm, they know you're lying. not to mention the lies around Patch, just to name an example, despite again the very tangible evidence that he provided. so we have someone you claim is a liar, but whose stories at least have been consistent and never escalated to include more morbid details for the sake of sensationalize it, and then we have you, someone who can't even keep the story of how she got an ugly trinket straight and has the internet full with proof of her many made up stories without ever even attempting to provide evidence herself. remember, LO: your fans already know you lie to them. they know. they even talk about it among themselves when you aren't watching. keep piling up those lies and maybe even them will get tired of making excuses for you. "they're a drugged up abusive psychopath..." remember when LO pretended to care about people called by others as narcissist for drama and call out everyone ableists for doing that? remember when she also tried to say that calling that was also more ableist harassment? so people with this disorder deserve compassion... but people with this other mental disorder (such as with addiction) don't. isn't it curious how ableism is something LO likes to weaponize against others the moment they call her out for something she did? the rest of her words can only be described as the rambling lashing out of an abuser applying her best DARVO as she can. it's also a barely veiled death threats, which are illegal as far i know. "you're a victim of anything" so you claim she didn't went through anything with Cameron now? LO, you don't like your brother either. he hasn't said nice things about you in the past either, so why are you defending him now...? oh, wait, he has children. children you can freely acess to as long you behive. is that, isn't it? the access to children is more important that dennouncing a rapist. throw your sister under the bus is more important than to do anything that could jeopardize your opportunity of being around more minors. you disgust me. "with imagined claims about my heritage" do i need to bring out the screenshot of LO stripping with a piece of literal cultural appropiation hanging from her topless body again? i'll if i have to. she's your immediate family, LO. if that is your "heritage", it's hers too. and unlike you, she kept in touch with her elders who are part of the Nation you never reached for or even care to talk to. because to you, it's not about a culture or even a community of people. it's about you getting what you want, as always. but being Cherokee or Indigenous is not just a fancy label to put online to seem more interesting to more ignorant white people. that's what your sister understands, that's what your aunt knows. the only who keeps being racist is you. do you all understand now why i don't bother with pitying LO anymore?

[four-color-words]

Bailey Adler - An Intro

((Notice: I wrote this while extremely goddamn sleepy, so if I need to elaborate or make something clearer or whatever, lemme know and I'll try my best after I get some sleep))

So, I try pretty hard to keep this sideblog restricted to canon-only stuff. But if I'm gonna start talking about my silly little fanfic on here, I ought to talk about the oc it centers around

Takeoff is the first arc of Bailey's story, and serves as her origin. The front half of it, I like to imagine, takes place in the background of a Flash comic. The back half of it, which I'm currently writing, is a backup or secondary story. Bailey's theoretical solo wouldn't start until she takes up the Golden Eagle mantle, passed down from Charley.

(fun fact: I came up with her around eight years ago, and she's actually what led me to learning about Charley -- but I decided it would be more fun (and achievable) to try and explain how and why Bales was inheriting a mantle, than trying to come up with a new, unused name for her)

Bailey's a complicated character, and it's hard to summarize all the stuff she's got going on. She's very emotionally-driven, and she wears her big bleeding heart on her sleeve. She doesn't exactly like this about herself, but she's been trying and failing to change this for two decades; it's in her nature. And, really, it's the fact that her emotions do run so deep and strong that leads to her becoming a superhero.

Bailey grew up in a small Oklahoma town, and as far as she's concerned, the less she has to talk about that, the better. She moved to Central City to try and not only start a new life, but to forget her old one. Helping her best friend with the rent was a bonus.

Unfortunately, the past won't let Bailey just walk away. Bailey lands a job at a local museum -- no, not that one -- just in time for a haunted suit of armor, a cold case disappearance, and a whole lot of mystery to cross her path. As secrets start to rise to the surface, Bailey finds her own family history might just be tangled up in this web. And untangling it all might mean facing the parts of her past -- and her relationship with her mother's side of the family -- that she really doesn't want to.

Bailey discovers her great-grandmother, Rachel Faulkner, was born Rashel Tavros, of Thanagar. And while this does explain a few things about Bailey's own life -- in particular, why she's always been stronger and tougher than she wants to admit, and why she's always overestimated other people's vision and hearing -- it also leaves her with a lot of questions, and a sense of duty she can't quite shake. She's forced to acknowledge that she's not a normal human. She has gifts and abilities that set her apart from the rest of the populace. She has power -- and we can all finish the old adage.

But she also made promises to her father and sister that, on some level, she feels like she's breaking if she starts being a superhero. Reconciling that and dealing with the guilt, however, are just things she's going to have to do. She does inherit the Golden Eagle mantle from Charley, though I won't say exactly how or why until after Takeoff's finale gets published. (because otherwise I'm not gonna ever write it)

A lot of Bailey's character and story revolve around the ideas of breaking out of cycles of abuse and neglect, what really defines a family, and a whole lot of stuff I'm struggling to put into words.

But while Bailey has, like, so much angst and emotional turmoil, she's also just a big ol' goober. She talks to random pigeons and sings along to the radio while she does chores. She gives her friends stupid nicknames as a form of affection. She offers the neighbor kid cookies because she baked too many at three am, and then realizes how fucking weird that is as a complete stranger. She flirts with people and then freezes like a deer in the headlights when they flirt back. She spent the first twenty-ish years of her life dreaming of being Space Indianna Jones. She's a history and literature nerd, and she will infodump at you about the similarities between art movements across three different planets.

She's a giant dork, and I love her

[this-is-miss-anonymous]

do you have any Dr.Ratio stomach headcanons?

🙏

HI HELLO YES I DO! I'm very sorry for the MONTHS LATE reply 😭 I've just recently done the Dr. Ratio quests so I had to study him a bit. BUTTT THESE ARE MYYY...

◇─◇ Dr. Ratio Stomach Headcanons ◇─◇

• Dr. Ratio is always seeking the pursuit of knowledge, even considering it one of the most important things in his life. Because of this, he often forgets to tend to his basic needs, like eating and sleeping.

• Dr. Ratio doesn't like pulling all nighters. Not on purpose, at least. However, when he does accidentally pull an all nighter for the "sake of knowledge", he zones in. So much so, that he practically studies in one place the whole night. When he finally snaps out of it the next morning, he realizes that he's starving, and proceeds to raid the fridge (those muscles weren't built off nothing).

• This man is the type of guy to read a book while exercising. If he really gets into the book, it's easy for him to overdo his exercises by a longshot. More often than not, this leads to him having a sore stomach and muscles.

• Despite accidentally neglecting his needs all the time, Dr. Ratio has a stomach. of. steel. Even if he often puts himself through pain or discomfort, he takes it like a *champ*. 99% of people don't even know when something is wrong since he's great at keeping a poker face and has a practically silent stomach. Only those closest to him know when something is up.

• Because he has such a strong stomach, Ratio's stomach doesn't actually growl unless he's starving. This typically means he would have to skip multiple meals for it to even get that bad, which is a rare occasion thanks to his foresight.

• Although he doesn't get stomachaches often, when they do happen, they can affect him pretty badly. Ratio will be too embarrassed to do anything about it in public, so he'll go to a restroom or somewhere else that's private to massage his abdomen.

• If Dr. Ratio ever needs help regarding hunger or stomachaches, he only allows those closest to him to help him out (usually with rubs or massages). Although he usually isn't too expressive, his mask falls when he sighs in relief. Sometimes he'll close his eyes as well, his brows are slightly furrowed but he'll slowly begin to relax when he feels safe.

Thank you for the ask!! 🫶🫶

[my-blind-album]

Lady Lesso x Female Reader- Do you wanna build a Snowman?

Requests; OPEN! {female characters only}

Pairing; Lady Leonora Lesso x Female Reader

Teen!AU - Adult!AU

POV; Since the day that the two best friends Leonora and Y/n were taken from their home in Gavaldon and sent to the school for good and evil. Leonora was sent to the school for evil and Y/n to the school for good. Ever since then Leonora has been distancing herself from Y/n and Y/n tries to get closer to her but is always neglected till the day comes were Y/n gets rejected by Leonora and she finally decides to stop chasing after the redhead but Leo is now left all alone and without anyone knowing of her tormenting dean of evil.

Warning(s); Fluff, Angst, Mentions of abandonment and neglect, death mentions, hints of rape, hints of paedophilia, sad ending

16 Years Old

Watching outside the window struggling to sleep, Y/n notices tiny white flakes falling from the sky, which can only meaning one thing...it's snowing.

Carefully and quietly making her way out of the dorm rooms and the good school as she sneaks past the fairies towards the school for evil. Luckily for her it was a full moon as well meaning the wolf guards were probably out howling. Creeping through the halls and steps she finally makes it towards a room with a label...

'Leonora Lesso'

Taking deep breaths she slowly reaches her fist for the door before knocking it five times.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Knock. Knock.

"Leo?" Y/n calls out to be met with a simple hum from the other side of the room indicating that Leonora was awake and very much aware of her best friends presence.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" no response. "Come on, let's go and play!" Y/n suggests as Leonora continues to keep her silence not responding to her friend's tactics. But unfortunately for her, Y/n was not willing to give up on her best friend.

"I never see you anymore, come out the door it's like you've away!" Y/n stops listening in but still no response. "We used to be best buddies, but now we're not, I wish you would tell me why!" Kneeling herself to the level of the doorknob she pokes her eye to try and peak inside but it's impossible for her to see through the small space. "Do you wanna build a snowman?" she places her mouth on the key space. "It doesn't have to be a snowman!" Y/n says cheekily even-though Leonora knew was talking about snow angels. Leonora finally reached her limited and decided to chase her friend away. "Go away Y/n!" although Leonora didn't know it or saw it behind her doors was sad girl who reluctantly walked away holding back the tears and making her way back to her own school and dorm room.

17 Years Old

It's Christmas Eve and everyone's in bed already but unlike everyone else, Y/n stands in the school for good's lovely garden consisting of each and every flower you could think of. Sitting on a nearby bench is Y/n who admires the moon's reflection on the river as she embraces the wonderful silence that fills her soul and mentality. Being a quiet bookworm she never enjoyed socializing or just the site of people drives her insane. But she will never forget the day she met Leonora.

Turning the page to the next chapter of her book, Y/n looks up from her reading due to the sound of footsteps which confused her, it's 7pm in the evening why would someone be out here, in the forest, apart from her since she was a lover of the night and it's beautiful features. "Hello?" she calls out to the source of the steps and sooner a redhead pops up from the bushes and is shocked to spot someone else in this late evening. "AH!" the redhead screamed and Y/n screamed back in fear. "What are you doing here?!" she speaks out. "I could ask you the same thing, redhead!" the girl before Y/n relaxes a bit as seeing that she won't be attacked. "Just came out for some fresh air, I always to that when I'm stressed" Y/n raises her eyebrow "So basically 24/7?" the redhead pauses before continuing. "Yeah really" she laughs. "What's your name?" "Lesso, Leonora Lesso" she extends her hand for Y/n to take and she hesitates for a bit before placing her hand on the redhead's or Leonora's. "And yours?" "Bell, Y/n Bell" they shake hands as Leonora sits next to Y/n and they continue to talk about their lives and problem and realized they were both going through the same issues and they're bond grew closer than ever.

Y/n slowly regains consciousness once feels something fall on her nose and moves her hands to touch it something fell on her hand. A snowflake. Looking up Y/n notice that it's snowing and she gets up from her seat twirling around with the biggest smile on her face. A thought pops in her mind, one that shouldn't have in the first place, before she can even think about her chances of success this time she finds herself already in front of Lenora's dorm room using her teleportation abilities. She's about to knock till she notices something different about the door and spots 3 names number Leonora's meaning this time she had roommates. To say she was surprised was an understatement, she was flabbergasted to say the least. Leonora was as worse as Y/n was when it came to socializing and she was sure that while they were back at Gavaldon she was Leo's only friend, so why would she have friends now? Is cause she feels like she belongs with them cause they're her people as well? Or did she replace after all the years we spent together?

Knocking on the door five times, she called out for her supposedly friend. "Leo?! It's Y/n!" and as the last time she received a simple hum from her friend on the other side of the room. "Do you wanna build a snowman?!" she pauses till she hears no response so she continues. "Or ride a bike around halls!?" no response "I think some company is overdue! I started to the pictures on walls!" Y/n stops smiling at the time she talked to a painting on the wall who goes by the name Joan and he was very friendly and wise and whenever Y/n needed the advice he was more than happy to prove one for her. "It gets a little lonely, all these empty halls just watching the hours tick by" now that Y/n realized it, she had no other friends she had apart from except the librarian who would always recommend a good book to her, Joan the talking painting and a girl called Clarissa Dovey who was the daughter of the fairy godmother and was Y/n's only student of good friend. Hoping and anticipating for a response better than her last only to get the same thing. Nothing. Sighing in defeat she walks away from the door not bothering to use her teleportation skills.

But on the other side of the door was a wounded Leonora who wasn't just heart in the inside but out as well. Being that Rafal had thought that he finally found he's first evil victim who will bring victor for evil but all Leonora ever wanted was Y/n, her best friend or was she really her best friend any more? "I hope your not thinking about that ratchet ever girl you call your 'friend' " Rafal spat to the redhead who was leaning against her door with her knees brought up to her chest and her eyes red from all the crying. "You know I love you, right Leo?" she nods her head. "Use your words sweetheart" "Ye-s-s" Rafal raised his eyebrow at her as if to continue her sentence. "Yes-s M-master Rafal" Rafal smirks at her placing his hand under her chin lifting her head up to him as he stares at her in cold lust. He slowly makes his way to her ear before huskily whispering, "Good Girl~" he rubs his thumb across Leonora's bottom lip as she quivers in fear and Rafal chuckles at the sight. "Now be a good student and spread open your legs for Master~"

18 Years Old

The year came whereby all the students of both and evil will pursue their careers and follow their fantasies for those who were chosen by the Storian. Was Y/n nervous? Quite frankly I believe there are no more words that could describe how she was feeling. She was ambivalent towards the thought of leaving Leonora if their stories don't include each other in them. So she decided that today was the today that she'd confess her feelings, not knowing that someone was already one step ahead of her scheme.

Once again, it was late at night Y/n stood in front of Leonora's door, and like always it was snowing, although she could have confessed during the day, there was one problem and that was Leonora was absent the entire day, no ne had word on her whereabouts so she figured that night time would be the perfect time, at least if she got rejected no one would be able to notice the tears escaping from her eyes and her lack of breathing.

She knocked on the door three times instead of the times she'd knock on the door numerous times till she would open the door to scold her away. "Leonora?" Y/n whispered yet in a way that she knew she wasn't alone and didn't want her accomplice to hear her. This time instead of a hum there was no response, but Y/n knew Leonora and she knew was in that room so decided to continue. "I know you're in there, people are asking we you've been" feeling her breathing becoming unsteady she continues. "They say, 'Have courage' and I'm trying to. I'm right here for you, just let me in" placing her hand on the door gently before she rests her forehead on the door as well not even caring for the tears anymore and letting them shower down her cheeks before softly hitting the ground. "We only have each other, just you and me, what are we gonna do?" she says before making her last comment. "Y/n please just leave me alone" "Why?" "I-I...don't feel the same way for you, I love someone else" "It's Rafal isn't?" Leonora goes quiet and Y/n laughs while rolling her eyes in disbelief knowing she's correct. "Bloody Bastard" Y/n mumbles under her breathe before completely backup from the door. "Well I wish you good luck, Leonora" "Goodbye Y/n" "Goodbye, Leonora Lesso" and with that she teleports back to her dorm leaving a broken hearted redhead stuck alone in a room with a man who will torture her for the rest of her life.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

[marginaletchings]

Apropos of nothing: I think people see Stella as "underdeveloped" because of 3 reasons:

A lot of people understandably get upset at cheating partners and sympathize with the partner who was cheated on-- sometimes to a degree they become blind to the nuances of why someone would pursue a partner outside an exclusive relationship in the first place.

Her lack of screentime.

People claiming she was "suddenly" nothing but abusive. ExCUSE me???

Warning for discussion of abuse, child abuse, childhood trauma:

The thing is... people seem to forget how verbally abusive she was for years. Stolas said it himself, and we SEE her loudly going on and on and on about his apparent lack of abilities in bed. I see fans happy to note that she's married "without consent" (as though this isn't also the case for Stolas???) and fail to understand that she is still clearly using him for status. If she were emotionally involved AT ALL, ever, do you really think she'd be going on and on about their sex life?? It would be humiliating in any other circumstance except where she uses it as leverage to demean her husband. All she's ever done is take her shit out on him. Stolas seeking comfort from someone else--albeit through dubious means--is his escape from that abuse and loneliness.

For the screentime: Tons of screentime or a lack of it isn't a good metric for how "deep" a character is. I'm also not gonna lie, not all characters need to be DEEP-- we have a fuckton of characters throughout media who are cruel, petty, and mean, but for some reason we still get to see them in a sympathetic woobified light. Stella, in my opinion, could use more screen time, sure, but do we really need to see her ~angsty backstory~ about how tragic it is that she was married to Stolas? Or maybe we could just admit, like, some people are just mean and miserable and can't take the level of shit they dish out to others. She's not angry he "betrayed" her, she's angry he's doing something she sees as disgusting and potentially ruinous to her status and standing in society.

Finally, I want to point out how she's clearly always had a terrible temper, Stolas points out she's been verbally and emotionally abusive for years, presumably the whole marriage, and she clearly neglects Octavia at "BEST." In little Octavia's room, we can see pictures she's drawn with just her and Stolas. We also see Stolas sigh when Stella tells Stolas to go to Octavia when she wakes up from a nightmare--that always came off to me like a parent absolutely frustrated with the lack of effort another parent is putting into raising their kid.

Stella is ABSENT from Octavia's life and always WAS-- Octavia is nothing to her except a means to an end. What's worse, is Octavia clearly has abandonment issues--gee I wonder why that is (Stella)--and they manifest in her fear of losing Stolas, too.

Not to get too personal here, but my parents had a similar dynamic in terms of my mom is a raging toxic shitbag and my dad is a sensitive man trying to make things work for the sake of his kid(s). I want to point out some (imo) important points here:

Stella having more "nuance" doesn't change the fact that she's still a toxic, gold-digging maniac. Regardless of her circumstances, which have always been privileged, she still chooses to be this way.

Octavia's fear really hits close to home for me. I was always close to my dad, I was the baby, the only girl and youngest by six years, and my mother was abusive and neglectful--when I was five they fought almost every night and once my mom threatened my dad with a steak knife. I grew up having nightmares into high school about being in a moving car and suddenly both my parents vanished, leaving the car without a driver on busy roads or precarious cliff edges. The fear that my dad might suddenly decide to abandon/neglect me just like my mom was an irrational but extremely understandable fear that I am STILL working through in therapy at the age of 34. Octavia actually makes me feel seen and heard in number of ways, and it drives me crazy that y'all will make excuses for Stella "only" neglecting Octavia. Fuck OFF with that.

No one thinks Stolas is without fault. Neither he nor Stella wanted that marriage on an emotional level, but judging by their behavior, and how cunning and driven Stella is (she has nuance, y'all just don't want to see it because it doesn't make her your pathetic babygirl, but an independent, conniving and ruthless demoness) she likely would've been more on board by the time they came of age and were married. Time to get power and money! And with Stolas trying to make things "normal" for Octavia, I cannot see Stella being interested in playing along. Stolas kind of just lay down and took it for years, didn't have the courage to suck it up and boot her out once Octavia was born, and started the affair with Blitz without actually using his brain beforehand.

Like. Don't get me wrong: I LIKE Stella. I hate, loathe, want to kick the teeth of people who act like her but I enjoy her as a character. Let this bitch be petty, cruel, conniving, all about living her best life (no matter the cost), and a screaming karen. Let her be Cersei Lannister, for fuck's sake: All of the above, and not as smart as she thinks she is, but she's got determination in SPADES to get what she wants.

I'll never understand why y'all are so mad about her other than just wanting more screen time. But don't let me catch you going "it's just neglect, other people had worse" or what the fuck ever. Also, her being awful doesn't make Stolas look good, it just makes the whole situation sad.

Two fucked up and extremely flawed adults are both hurting their child, but at least ONE of those adults actually gives a shit. It's a low as fuck bar, but it's Hell's royalty, idk what y'all were expecting.

PS: People who want to get shitty about this and not act like civil g-damn adults are gonna get blocked. I work 45-50 hours a week and use a cane, I am in too much pain and too tired for dumb bullshit. Y'all can either disagree politely or earn a hard block from me.

[lenny-rambles]

About "When All the Embers Die"

Title: When All the Embers Die

Author: MelodramaticCoffeeAddict

Update 21: Chapter Twenty (Then)

Relevant tags: ZoLu, angst, modern au, acesan, ongoing, the swords are dogs, happy ending (allegedly)

A modern au ZoLu fic in which the crew were friends once, and now Zoro's not; and about why is that.

IT UPDATED! IT UPDATED! IT UPDATED!!! Thank you so much author for updating!!! I adore this story and it's been a blast. Truly, the angst and hurt/comfort are so well managed that I can't help but get really into it. Everyone should read this fanfic because it's effin fantastic.

All right, first of all, I am a big fan of MelodramaticCoffeeAddict's works. I've read a lot of them, and the ones I haven't is because I'm scared of the feelings they'll give me. Most of them are very angsty and Zoro-centric, which means I'm very drawn to her works. But I'm digressing.

All right, spoilers for the fic and OP Marineford arc, (though that last one is kinda a stretch but whatever) BEWARE!!

We start basically where we left the "then" part of the story, which is great because I can't get enough of Zoro and Luffy's reaction to the reveal. Like, Zoro, my man is Destroyed, he is basically in hell right now, his only lifelines are Wado, Luffy and Ace. (Which is so sad now given what we know about "now") (OHHHH I HAVE THINGS TO SAY ABOUT THAT!!!)

I want to talk about Ace's role in the story before I continue. Or at least, a little thing that popped up when this beautiful fic was invading my consciousness and not letting me study: Zoro doesn't get to keep his older siblings for long. An that's so sad!!!!! Like, the foreshadowing for Ace's death being to save Zoro, who could very well be trying to save Luffy from anything (or at least the way I understood it) Is So Tragic. This would be the second Older Sibling that sacrifices themselves for Zoro, I think that would break him. That's what gives him the permanent stutter in the "now" portion of the story.

This last part actually relates to the author's comment about a hc where Zoro just, buries his emotions instead of dealing with them, because then he would break. If Ace's death is Zoro's "fault" that will be what finally breaks the dam. He will not come back from that. And we know so!!! Because he didn't!!!

All right, back to the scenes in the fic

Sanji's been giving them food but Zoro doesn't want any, I understand this so much, this is so sad :c. Luffy eats it (haha), and Ace very much acts as the ultimate support for everyone. Let's go AceSan, I just really like how Ace doesn't neglects his role as everyone's support in favor of someone else. Even Usopp got some support! I love you Ace <333

Luffy reminding Zoro it was not his fault got me by surprise!! I sometimes forget this is a ZoLu fic ('cause of the plot) lol. This is such a nice way of giving a sweet scene that doesn't shift terribly the tone of the chapter, I really liked it.

More Zoro angst!!! He's blaming himself for the short trip :c Even though Luffy already told him nothing is his fault and he doesn't own anyone anything (some chapters ago), he still thinks he's the worst because he's ruined his friends fun!!! I WANNA CRY

Some more situational fluff: Luffy gives Zoro a ride home, and only Zoro!!!! I know this has Plot Reasons, it also has Ship Implications and I'm here for both. I really like Zoro and Luffy's relationship here! I don't remember getting a Luffy POV in this fic so far, I'll have to re-read, but I'd like to see their relationship through Luffy's pov.

The moment I've been waiting for ever since the birthday chapter is finally here!! Zoro calls Mihawk dad!!!!!! I was expecting this but it still made me feeeeel for them. I'd say I really like their relationship in the fic, but I say that about everything relationship in the fic. I just really like this fic and the way the author handles the characters in a very unusual setting, but makes it make sense for the canon counterparts!!!

Mihawk comforting Zoro part 1, thank you Mihawk for giving it your best to be a good dad, even if it doesn't always work out as intended. Your efforts have not been in vain because it's Your House where Zoro feels safest, not his, not Luffy's, not Ace's, Yours!!!

A short rambling about the dogs!!! They know what to do, I really love the dogs in this fic. They are *in character* for like, 2-3 lines of dialogue we've from canon, but in all honesty, I eat up any anthropomorphization of Zoro's swords (even Oda's, but we don't talk about Oda's take on that) but this is one of my favorites!

Oh yeah, the post dissociation clarity is weird. Like, as someone who also has the bad habit of "keeping big emotions under the rug" I have now added "to ACTUALLY check on them later" to the strategy, because it suck feeling a stranger to your own trauma. Hopefully Zoro learns this, but the way the story is headed, I don't see it happening in the "then" chapters...

On this, I haven't been through something similar to what's on the story, but both God and my psychiatrist know that the line between hyper rationalizing your feelings and just ignoring them blurs terribly quicky. So Zoro being like "I have to BE FINE, because if I AM NOT FINE then this would be terrible, the most horrible thing to ever happen, and that can't be true, because I don't think I could survive that" is very close to home for me, I just wish he went to therapy.

More angst (thanks) Zoro's issues with self worth and him being a waste unless he is excellent and strong and how I relate to that because of Internalized Family Expectations that were Not Met. Not much to develop on that, I just think about this take on Zoro's character and wonder what it means to myself.

Not wanting to eat because of anxiety for something totally unrelated to food is also very personal to me. The moment when eating stops being the Joie de Vivre to become A Chore is when it's known something's wrong, so seeing it in action for Zoro is great.

Mihawk comforting Zoro part 2, thank you Mihawk for loving your son. Perona also loves Zoro but she's a bit (a lot) lost right now. I think Mihawk wants to give Zoro a sense of normalcy through his panic attacks and all, so he keeps calm. And Perona knows that being dramatic is almost always more fun than being stoic, so she is. But my poor Zoro ends up confused about how to properly react to stressful situations thanks to these two, and by stating that on the fic we now know why he is Like That. I hope he gets to calm down more soon.

Ussop!!! I love it when we get his POV, I really like Usopp's POV in general for Fics, but this one serves also for an "antagonistic" narrative in the story. My man is too wrapped up in his own insecurities that he can't see that the way he and Zoro protect themselves from trauma is basically the same. They both create and project an image of themselves that has it more together than they actually do, the only difference is that now Usopp can't call Zoro's bluff and viceversa. They are both too into their own heads to even think that someone has issues as bad a they do. (Because why would they? Everyone else is so very much incredible! They are just the lesser friend, the one that's disposable, the useless one) They are all liars trying to get the best of themselves out, so that none of their wonderful friends ever finds out about what they've got within.

But they did!!! And it's Usopp's fault for not respecting Zoro's boundaries!!! Zoro's exposed everytime that happens and Usopp Can't Get Enough of it, because now he is not the weak one. He can call the bluff and regain some sort of validation towards him and his way of projecting out. What good it does to him though, because his bluff's also been called by everyone but Zoro. It makes sense for him to finally stop and think about what he's done for a change. Ding dong mtherfcker, it's consequences of your actions!

Side note, I really like Luffy paying for Usopp's phone but still too mad at him to actually talk to him directly, that's Luffy if I ever read him.

Usopp apologizing because he fears his friends stopping from being his friends and not because of him actually being sorry (even though he knows he's in the wrong) is peak Usopp behavior. In fact, it is very much canon, since that's basically how the end of the Water 7 saga goes. (until Zoro makes Luffy understand and so Usopp understand that half-assed apologies won't do). Let's hope he doesn't have to get punched anymore to be all right with the crew again.

Ah, Usopp being petty because Zoro apologized is funny, and very interesting for things previously mentioned.

And then the fic ends. It was a very good update! I'm So Glad the author is still updating! even though it' stated to be somewhat more of a bore now (than it was at the start :c) I await the next update expectantly because I can't get enough of this, and sincerely hope the fic gets to be done, because this is such a good story it'd make me sad if it were to just, stop. So once again, thank you so much author for all the work you put through and take your time!!!

Oh well, this is a great piece (haha), I think the fic is very non shippers accesible, because most of the moment can be interpreted as platonic (but why would you?) or plainly Not In English (I love that, I really like those but where they flirt in other languages, they are such dorks omg). So I believe any Zoro fans should read it, if you like modern aus, because it is a really good Zoro fic, and fic in general. I'm biased but I'm right!!!

[sister-hawk]

mega spoilers for The Locked Tomb

ok here's what i just realized. we had no idea Harrow was seeing the body until the second book, because the first book is from Gideon's perspective and Harrow never told her about it. she told her about seeing the body in the tomb, but she neglected to mention that she's been seeing it walk around ever since. Gideon and Harrow have obviously had a very difficult relationship, which gets way way worse after Harrow opens the tomb. it gets so bad that Gideon seems to think her only course of action is to run away when no one is looking and join the Cohort. as far as Gideon is concerned, there's no salvaging that relationship, Harrow is just too horrible and evil and vile.

and then the events of Caanan House happen, and through the course of it all (especially after the pool scene) Gideon starts to see Harrow in a much more human light. she's not just the absolute monster Gideon has convinced herself that she must be, after years of trauma and abuse on the Ninth House (which she assumes was all Harrow's doing). Gideon sees her for who she really is, an equally traumatized teenager who has had an unimaginable weight placed upon her by her parents' actions (TWICE!). and i think she begins to hope. after all, these two were the only children growing up on shitty old castle/space station, carved into a dark and cold and desolate rock on the far reaches of the solar system, surrounded by a bunch of elderly cultists. they share a bond whether they like it or not. she sees that Harrow is more than she wrote her off as and she starts to think "maybe there's something between us after all." now i wouldn't go so far as to say she immediately wanted anything romantic, i don't know if either of them even understands romance. when have they ever had the opportunity to learn? but she clearly begins to think of Harrow as someone she can trust? kind of, that she must protect, maybe even love??? whatever the fuck that means for these two (though she tries so hard to convince herself that she isn't feeling this because she doesn't know how to deal with it).

then the fight with Cytherea happens, and after a desperate and hopeless attempt, Gideon makes the ultimate sacrifice. she chooses to stop fighting for her life, and instead to die, to ensure that Harrow would live. even though she wouldn't like to put it this way, this is Gideon's ultimate expression of love for Harrow. she chooses not only to die, but to be consumed. to be obliterated, to be erased from this life and the next, just so that Harrow can go on. she gave literally everything for this girl.

and then, when her spirit wakes up inside of Harrow, and she sees (unclearly) what Harrow sees, what is she looking at? what does she see waltzing around in Harrow's mind? the fucking body from the tomb. the body Harrow thought was so beautiful, that on the day Gideon nearly killed her and drove her to suicide, she saw and immediately decided to live for, on the extremely slim chance that it could ever wake up. she sees the body that saved Harrow from her previous cruelty (they were only children). and she knows, it's been with her this whole time. all this time and Harrow never said a word. even in the salt water bath, where all the truth was supposed to finally come out, this little detail never crossed Harrow's lips.

Gideon must have been utterly heart broken. This would be like if you suddenly found out that your girlfriend of the better part of a decade had secretly been seeing someone else this whole time. it must have crushed what was left of her soul. and to top it all off, Harrow pulls this insane plan to make herself forget Gideon. Gideon sees what she does, but of course she doesn't see why, because Harrow would never tell it aloud, especially not to someone like Ianthe. and all she can assume is, now that Harrow has what she needs (the Lyctorhood for which she was so desperate), she wants to throw Gideon away so that she'll never be beholden to another person. she'd never have to be grateful to Gideon, and she'll have the imagined girlfriend in her head, and Gideon will not even be left as a memory.

Holy shit the devastation this (apparent) betrayal causes cannot even be put into words. No wonder Kiriona is so fucking mean.