#in the long run it's for the best if you try avoiding this defense mechanism as much as possible...

[uncanny-tranny]

Niche politics tip: If you start dissociating from politics so much it starts feeling like each side is akin to a football team or a game, you might need to take a step back in order to recuperate.

When you're so caught up in politics that you need to dissociate from the humanity of it in order to engage with politics, that's not a good sign. It's especially not a good sign when we are talking about human rights

#politics #it's especially weird when people treat your human rights as a game to 'win' regardless of how it affects you #there have been so many trans allies i've come across who treat trans rights as a game or a bargaining chip. and that's. kind of scary #this doesn't solely apply to trans rights but it's something i've encountered before #but i think a lot of people are so... desensitized? unaffected by horrible things that they genuinely dissociate from it #that's not a good thing though i think #in the long run it's for the best if you try avoiding this defense mechanism as much as possible... #...you are not the spawn of satan for stepping back to ground yourself back to earth... #...have you ever been on a plane where they tell you that in the event the plane goes down you put YOUR oxygen mask on first?... #...it's a similar principle when applied to politics... #...how exactly ARE you going to help like you want to and how others need when you are ground into dust? #and no this isn't 'be complicite!!!!' if people read it like that... #...this post is saying 'do not view people as a game to win because you are so desensitized to the horror around you'...

[bigboysfalldeep]

As a senior officer, rookies are assigned to Raùl up to four times a year. He shows them the basics, how to stay safe, what places to avoid and simply, how to be a good cop. His newest partner just graduated from the academy about three weeks prior. Being very green, days are extremely exhausting. Nonetheless, Raùl enjoys his job a lot.

He just brought him home after a very long, draining shift, and hes happy to spend an hour alone, to relax and to do paper work. The young one is learning this soon enough, and as long as nothing eventful happens, those reports are pretty easy to fill out.

Raùl is sitting inside the car in midst an empty parking lot a little out of town, lighting a cigarette. As he takes a deep breath, he leans back against the seat. With a huge exhale, he sighs and blows smoke out of his mouth.

He checks the clock. His shift is nearly over, time to head to the station. He turns the key, and the engine roars to life, but it dies soon after. Bewildered, he turns the key again, with the same result.

Sighing again, he thinks for a second. He cant afford that car to be broken. So much paperwork. Annoyed, he reaches for the key, but as he looks into the rear view mirror, he spots a dark figure sitting on his back seat.

"What the fuck? Who are you?" He grunts angrily, but as he blinks, that figure is gone. Raùl turns around to see where that man has gone, but there is no one in sight.

His heart is racing and his breath quickens rapidly. He feels his whole body shaking in fear. "What the fuck?" Raùl exhales, and the sound of his radio spooks him. He jumps, hearing the voice of his operator echoing through the car.

"Raùl. Can you hear me?" She says, and the cop takes a deep breath.

He turns back around and leans against the seat. "I can hear you." He turns on his microphone and holds back a nervous chuckle.

"Captain wants to talk to you, you may come in." She says calmly.

"On my way." He coughs, trying his best to not show his growing anxiety.

Raùl closes his eyes and runs a hand across his face and through his hair. 'Just my nerves' he thinks, but once he opens his eyes, however, the ghostly figure is hovering right in front of his face.

Letting out a guttural scream, he cant stop it from entering his body through his open mouth. Like sticky liquid it covers the inside of his mouth, his tongue and slides down his throat. Raùl gags, and tries to grab his attacker, but it doesnt work. He reaches for his gun, the radio, but then, his throat starts burning.

Its warm, goo-like, and more and more of it enters his mouth. In horror he watches the figure disappear inside him, deeper, until its gone.

His body reacts right away, getting harder than ever before. Its a extremely weird feeling. On the one hand its disgusting, the smell and texture of it all, but on the other hand, hes getting arroused.

Raùl blinks a few times and holds his throat, and stomach still feeling that sticky liquid running down inside him. He gags again and again, a defensive mechanism, but it doesnt work at all.

His entire body stiffens harshly, as all of his muscles bulge against his now tight uniform. "What is...." He growls deeply, but suddenly, his body starts twitching.

His entire being starts tingling, as warmth fills his entire chest. Subconciously, he starts stroking himself, feeling his skin heating up even through his clothes. His breath quickens again and he desperately tries to open up his vest, to make it easier for him to breathe.

After a few failed attempts, he opens the zipper and takes a huge deep breath in relief.

Just then, the warmth starts spreading through his arms right into his fingertips. The tingling gets even worse but he cant help himself but moan in blissful satisfaction.

Still stroking himself, he feels his skin move slightly, something or someone is adjusting to his bigger frame.

Its painful yet more waves of pleasure echo through every fiber of his body.

His upper body grows heavier and the warmth keeps spreading, now, through his waist into his thighs, further down, reaching his toes.

Raùl moans again as even his cock is tingling rhythmically. It grows larger, pressing against his pants. He never felt like that before, and nothing caused him to leak precum and stain his boxers that fast.

Unable to control himself he grabs his bulge firmly, moving his hand along his ever growing shaft.

"Soo good."

A voice enters his thoughts, causing Raùl to snap out of this state of pure pleasure for a moment.

"Who are you?" He opens his mouth, but hes just drooling. Instead, hes talking to that voice inside his head.

"Im the new owner of this beautiful body."

The voice says sassily.

"What? Who?"

Unable to form a coherent thought, Raùls mind starts spinning even faster.

Just then, his mind is flooded with so many different images, thoughts and feelings, which simply overwhelm him.

All of him tells him to give in. That its okay. So easy.

"Im merging with you, Raùl." The voice says. "Ive been looking for a host for months. And watching you with those rookies made my heart melt."

Raùl leans his head back, letting out a long guttural moan at the simple thought of his new partner.

His cock pulsates happily, staining his clothes even more.

"Im sorry. Couldnt help myself." The voice giggles.

"Please....dont."

Raùl cries out, the feeling of losing control getting worse and worse.

"I want you. I need you." The voice says. "And I always get what I want."

The pressure on his body gets nearly unbearable, and with a last effort, he tries to fight back, but the batlle is already lost.

Moaning, groaning and grunting deeply, Raùl shoots load after load into his pants. His body is giving in, and that voice is embracing this fully. The eyes turn glassy and unfocus before they roll back into his head. All of the muscles are testing the limits of the uniforms fabric and his voice breaks before it stops.

For a moment, all goes numb.

Then, 'Raùl' opens his eyes, and lets out a low groan.

With a smile, he looks at his reflection inside the rear view mirror, enjoying the sight of him.

"Very nice." He growls and inspects his face, running a hand through his nicely done hair and groomed beard.

'Raùl' then inspects the rest of his body. He enjoys how it feels to be a well trained cop. His muscles flex easily, and then, subconciously, he strokes his cock through a huge wet patch.

"Fucking good." He smirks, and raises his eyebrows. "The first time is always the best."

His captain wants to speak to him. Thats going to be fun.

#tf story #male tf #male hypnosis #male body switch #male body possession #male mind control #male body suit #male on male #male domination #male transformation #hypno story

[turbulentscrawl]

Identity(V) Headcanons: Andrew Kreiss

This one is not a request, just the next in line for my general HCs! As usual, if you like my stuff, feel free to shoot me a request.

-Andrew is a very hot-and-cold person. Mostly cold. …Like 85% cold. But it’s hard to blame him when life’s given him nothing to really have faith in. Once upon a time he still believed that good people existed, but his faith just waned and waned, and that’s long been relegated to fantasy. It’s incredibly difficult to breach his hardened emotional walls now.

-He made a conscious decision to not care about others’ wellbeing years ago so he’s largely indifferent to happenings that don’t involve himself. He’s not interested in looking out for or helping people, defending or comforting them. He does his share of good when he puts them in the ground, and that ought to be enough. And if he takes them out again later…well, if souls are real they’re surely long gone, right?

-Everyone knows he’s got a nasty mouth, right? Andrew was rarely spoken to kindly when he was growing up, and he learned to take those words and turn them back on people to keep them away. If he was always going to be accused of being cursed or demonic or whathaveyou, why should he bother with decorum? He cusses regularly and has called people every cruel name under the sun at some point. The worst of it is reserved for retaliation against people who start talking shit first.

-Andrew is not a weak man. He’s tall and athletic, and he’s adept with a heavy-duty shovel. That is to say, he’s more than capable of defending himself. He strongly prefers to avoid physical confrontation, but he has spent years throwing around bodies and I can assure you it really makes no difference to him whether they still draw breath.

-When he does get along with someone, the old habits die hard. Andrew spends a lot of conversation time still tripping over his own tongue, rephrasing harsh things he says out of instinct to try and be gentler, and then getting visibly angry with himself. (He is also not great at hiding his emotions.) He’s constantly afraid that he’s going to run off the good things he has and be back to square one.

-In an effort to…make up for? Cover up? those snaps he can’t hold back, Andrew sometimes rambles for long stretches. These don’t happen in front of groups, but during one-on-one time with his loved ones. He’ll get onto some topic he’s familiar with (or not, if he’s desperate enough) and just run his mouth off like he’s trying to lure you away from a trap with a treat. He’s not above shoving an actual apology treat at people either, if one is available.

-While not always the best at communicating his thoughts, Andrew is very philosophical under the surface. He’s had a lot of alone time to think over the years, and he’s analyzed every angle he could come up with to rationalize and understand his lot. He would really enjoy having a friend or partner who is up for those deep, 2-am conversations about the meaning of life and the universe. His own views lean towards the despondent, but he’d like to hear something more optimistic too.

-Even when close with someone, Andrew doesn’t initiate many conversations. Unlike some of the other introverts in the manor, this isn’t because he’d rather be left alone but because he secretly likes when they seek him out. You coming to him is a very simple reminder that his company is enjoyable and desired.

-The best Love Language for Andrew is probably Quality Time. He would like any of them if it came from someone he genuinely learned to love and trust, but Quality Time is what you’d need to reach that cherished place in his heart. Andrew acts prickly as a defense mechanism, and he needs someone who’s willing to endure his snappiness and show him they wouldn’t prefer to spend their time and energy on someone else.

-Andrew is the type to admire things silently. He gives compliments very sparingly, so when he does give them you know he really means it.

-He is plagued by back and shoulder pains. It’s mostly from his profession, standing hunched over for hours on end, and it’s affected even his resting posture now. He doesn’t just curl in on himself as an anxiety thing, he is sore. Can the Baron please invite a chiropractor next? A masseuse? …Yoga instructor?

-He’s mostly nocturnal at this point. (The manor’s scheduling has messed that up, though.) It’s not just sun-sensitivity, but that he usually worked after sundown when people wouldn’t be around the graveyard to see him.

-He loves a good homecooked meal! The best foods are the ones prepared by someone who loves you, so he’d choose a mediocre dish at home to the fanciest restaurants in the world.

#idv x reader #identity v #identity v x reader #andrew kreiss #idv gravekeeper #andrew kreiss x reader #turbulentscrawl

[mrclairdycat]

WHY CROWLEY IS A BPD CODED CHARACTER: A LONG THREAD

‼️WARNING‼️ This post could be triggering to some viewers, please be mindful when reading!

I'm going follow the DSM-5 diagnostic criteria to cover each and every point (there are 9 so hang on with me please). Here they are:

Frantic efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment:

First of all, throughout the entire show Crowley has been trying to save Aziraphale from the brainwashing Heaven has done to him. He knew that sooner or later he would've cut ties just because he's a demon, and that he was pushing his luck, so he's done everything he could to show that they don't have to choose anyone's side but their side, and that there is no need to abandon him. Second of all, even when he is in the right, he always comes back to Aziraphale after an argument, says sorry, and moves on with it in no time. All he cares about is to not lose him. One time he was literally like "Ok, I was wrong and you were right, now get in the car please".

His frantic efforts might be subtle because he's not the type to get vulnerable and emotional in front of anyone, and would never directly beg Aziraphale to stay, but he continously asks Aziraphale to "go off together" because he wants to feel safe, to secure his fp. He wants to make sure they're together, away from all factors that could make him lose Aziraphale. (not only because he could choose Heaven, but also because they could be destroyed and such).

One scene that proves the lenght Crowley would go to not lose him is in the last ep of season one where Aziraphale threatens to never talk to him again if he doesn't do something.

The look on Crowley's face after he says that says it all, me thinks. And he immediately finds a way to not make that happen.

A pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by alternating between extremes of idealization and devaluation:

I think it's safe to say that Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship is super unstable and intense, so we can check that. They have spent 6000 years being friends and haven't ever properly communicated once, yet would do anything for each other.

That said, Crowley continously goes from idealizing Aziraphale, calling him his best friend and all, to completely devaluing the importance of his presence in his life (and how much he wants him) as soon as he feels threatened or angry.

An example of that is that scene where he asks for the holy water in front of the duck pond. As soon as Aziraphale uses the words 'fraternize', you can see his anger building up. Seeing that he might not look at their relationship the same way he does, he immediately devalues him. This is not the only scene where he basically says " Yeah! You're not important to me and I don't need you. I don't care about you! I can live with you!"

As a person with BPD this happens a lot with whoever is my fp. Even little words like that can make my defense mechanism to the perceived abandonment go off. Rejection is the worst thing. I immediately think "oh whatever, I have other friends who want to spend time with me/who would do this for me. I couldn't care less." (I actually do, a lot. LOL).

There's also that scene where the end of the world is near, and since Aziraphale rejects the idea of running away together again Crowley says something alongs the line of "You're ridiculous. I don't even know why I keep talking to you."

Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self.

In the context of this show this culminates in the fact that Crowley doesn't really know what he is. He doesn't know if he's truly bad and if he even wants to be bad. That's just what Heaven etiquetted him as, and went with it, probably because he feels protected this way, in a sense. It's better to be someone unforgivable than a victim that has been misunderstood, after all. That would put him in a vulnerable position.

Plus, I think anyone with BPD will relate with the experience of feeling like you're ultimately bad or evil at the core, that you're someone who is unredeemable, but at the same time feeling angry because you feel like the world is being unfair towards you. We usually have a strong sense of justice because we've been wronged, and can't help but see everything as unfair and unjust.

Most of the times we were hurt because we were nice, and we don't want to be nice again in fear of not having control or power over it.

It's clear Crowley doesn't want to be an angel again, but he doesn't want to be a demon either. He had never done anything extremely bad.

So I think it's safe to say he doesn't know what he wants to be. He just wants to be ok, to rest and get away from all of it, from the sources of his trauma.

In fact, I believe Crowley sees himself in Aziraphale since he's having similar experiences, and projects himself into him. It's as though they're figuring themselves out thanks to their relationship. They mutually bring new prespectives to the table.

This is why they fail at communicating: Crowley doesn't understand himself yet, and so doesn't understand parts of Aziraphale either.

But they will get there one day, hopefully.

"I'm just a demon that gets along with Hell as far as he can."

"You're just an angel that gets along with Heaven as far as he can."

Impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging (e.g., spending, reckless driving, binge eating...)

Ok first of all:

... Yeah.

That checked, the second area is a bit of a stretch and can be debated (then again it's important to point out you only have to mark at least 5 points to fit the criteria), but I believe the way he lets Aziraphale treat him like "the bad demon" and tries to prove him right sometimes could be considered self-damaging behavior? I still remember that scene where Aziraphale just assumes he had fired a gun before, and Crowley doesn't correct him. Many times he does the 'bad' things for him just to please him too, and I don't believe he wants Aziraphale to perceive him as an unredeemable demon at all.

I also believe the way he impulsively and recklessly lies about getting his job done could be considered self-damaging behavior. Especially because he does it with things that are not even worth taking the risk.

Sometimes its like he doesn't care if he could get punished, and we know Hell isn't exactly forgiving. They probably use torture as a current method for this. I remember he said something along the lines of "and my lot don't send notes" to Aziraphale, after all.

TW: the next point will mention suicidal behavior! (Please skip to the next point if you feel like it could trigger you).

Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior.

This is another one that could be debated, but hear me out: yes, its true that he could've only wanted the holy water as a weapon against other demons (and he did use it that way), but Aziraphale's fear of possibly giving him a suicide pill had to come from somewhere, right? Why would he immediately assume that's what he would use it for if things went bad?

It might be because he doesn't see Crowley as someone who could actually hurt anyone, so he's only left with that option, but I'm not sure. After all, even the nicest person would try to save his life if a legion of demons tried to give them retribution, right? And he wouldn't mind giving Crowley something to protect himself.

It could be possible that there were moments and stuff that went on between them, conversations that led Aziraphale to believe this. It took time for him to decide and grant him this holy water, and even so he didn't look sure. He was extremely worried.

And no, Aziraphale is not scared of getting into trouble. It's clear the problem with giving him the holy water isn't that from the get go. That's the face of someone who is doubting their friend's intentions.

Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).

This man is the epitome of emotional instability. I don't know what else to say here,honestly XJENFJ

It only takes watching the show to figure that out, I believe. He's super reactive to every little thing and word, he's super easy to irritate. He can go from being calm to snapping like a branch into a matter of seconds, and takes as quickly to let it go.

Chronic feelings of emptiness:

It is clear this man experiences chronic emptiness. He doesn't see the point in Heaven or Hell, into doing his demon buisness, or in the Great Plan, the war and all.

Ok, demons cannot properly be friends, I know, but some kind of partnerships had been shown, yet he has no 'friends'. He is distant from everything. He doesn't want to do anything.

His careless behaviors: the reckless driving, the dangerous tricks he does to not do his job, are all connected to this chronic emptiness. If he cared, he wouldn't behave like this.

That said, I do believe Aziraphale, his fp, became the only purpose of his endless existence. He was probably the only thing that began to motivate him. It is made clear from the show that he is lonely asf, and, at least in my experience, BPD makes you very lonely. If I don't have any significant relationships (including friendships) I feel empty to my core. Since we have troubles with our identies we have difficulties doing things for ourselves and ourselves only, to see the point in doing things if no one is watching, if no one is there to appreciate it. Even then, friendships and all do not fill that hole, and we might lose passion for things or not feel any passion for things at all.

We know that Crowley was passionate about one thing: creating nebulas, stars, and universes. That completely changed after he fell, a traumatic event, and that's when I believe his BPD traits started to appear.

He did say he had been waiting to build that thing since forever, and not only did he learn it was pointless since it'll be all dismantled one day, he lost his angelic status too. That was probably his only stable sense of self.

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (e.g., frequent displays of temper, constant anter, reccurent physical fights.)

Since we're talking about his angelic past: Crowley used to be happy. He isn't 'naturally' all grouchy and angry at the world. He began to be that way after he fell.

JUST LOOK AT THIS CUTIE.

Crowley before the fall and Crowley after the fall are two completely different people, right?

And he doesn't pretend to have changed to appear mean or something like that, he did actually change. He was traumatized, wronged. That's where all that anger comes from. His reactions are real, not play pretend.

And it is made clear many times that Crowley has anger issues. He can't control it. He is shown snapping a multitude amount of times.

now THIS is real BPD anger right there. If I had to visually represent how it feels when BPD anger hits this would be it. It's so edgy it's embarrassing. It truly could only take a lightning bolt to calm me the fuck down. He doesn't even give a f if humans are all seeing him do this, just like a person with BPD wouldn't feel embarassed making a scene in public since it's so uncontrollable you lose yourself and act impulsively.

The fact he's angry because of an argument him and Aziraphale just had makes this more BPD coded.

Not only that, his anger many times comes out of nowhere and could be described as innapropriate.

Just look at how quickly he reacts, without making Aziraphale even finish his sentence.

It is clear Aziraphale has no bad intentions when he says it, his voice is even sweet, yet Crowley can't help but react like this simply for being called nice or good.

Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

We have finally came to the last point. Yippe! Now this one is a bit tricky since it's not easily identifiable just by looking at someone.

This paranoid ideation or dissociative symptoms like depersonalization can occur in periods of extreme stress, and it is hard to judge that just by watching. A person could be walking, as an example, but still be dissociating even if they look completely normal. They might not actually be totally aware of what they are doing. (Transient means they last minutes or hours, by the way.) This becomes even harder to tell since Crowley continously wears those glasses, so we can't even see if his eyes look empty or anything.

That said, we know Crowley is super reactive, but during intense stressful times, like in season one when he learns that the end of the world is near and Aziraphale rejects to run away with him, it seems like he becomes unnaturaly calm whenever he perceives there's nothing else he can do. He looks just utterly exhausted and passive.

It's important to note that these symptoms are mostly caused by real or imagined abandonment too. I point that out because in the episode scene of season 2, after Crowley sees Aziraphale officially leaving and going to Heaven, he gets back in the car, but he doesn't immediately drive.

He starts it and just sits there in silence. He looks completely out of it, like he has just taken such a big blow he has trouble properly processing it. He doesn't look like he's there, in a sense. For a moment he's completely elsewhere. Even when he starts driving he doesn't look right to me.

Welp, that's it! If you had read this all congrats to you, and thank you. Also, I apologize for any spelling mistakes LOL.

Tell me what you think! :)

#thread #good omens #good omens headcanons #bpd #bpd shit #good omens crowley #anthony j crowley #angel crowley #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens s3 #good omens season 2 #headcanon

[jubileemon]

Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time Ending: Shinji's Happy Ending?

It's great to hear that the ending of "Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time" provides fans with a long-awaited sense of closure and happiness. The resolution, with Shinji creating a new world, free from the conflicts of Angels and EVAs, and finding stability and happiness with Mari, represents a significant departure from the darker and more complex themes of the series. Though it seems completely out of left field that Shinji would end up with Mari, it actually works out.

Shinji and Rei

Though Rei is good to Shinji and is affectionate toward him, this is mixed in with her being created from his mother's DNA and her lack of autonomy. The genetic connection between Rei and Yui brings an inherent familial bond. If romantic feelings were to develop between Shinji and Rei, it could be interpreted as having incestuous undertones, as Rei essentially shares genetic material with Shinji's mother.

Opting for a platonic or sibling-like relationship helps navigate the potential uncomfortable implications of the genetic connection, contributing to a more emotionally stable and healthier friendship between them in the context.

Shinji and Asuka

As Neon Genesis Evangelion is meant as a deconstruction of anime tropes, so is Asuka and Shinji's relationship a darker take on tsundere romance stories.

Asuka's blunt and abrasive demeanor serves as a defense mechanism, masking her own insecurities and traumas. This can make it challenging for Shinji or anyone else to easily discern her true feelings, creating a barrier to establishing a healthy relationship.

Asuka's pride serves as a defense mechanism, shielding her from potential emotional pain. By projecting confidence and superiority, she attempts to avoid vulnerability and rejection. This can be seen in her reluctance to open up to others and her tendency to mask her true feelings.

Shinji is totally unable to give Asuka affection on the terms she wants ("You won't even hold me!") and only goes to her to assuage his own pain. Likewise, Asuka is only ever able to give Shinji tough love (Shinji: "Doesn't everyone hate me?" Asuka: "You idiot, you've just gotten that in your head by yourself!").

Shinji and Kaworu

Kaworu, though wanting to make Shinji happy, does so at the cost of his own happiness. Their relationship becomes a focal point, as Kaworu becomes the first person to genuinely understand and accept Shinji without judgment. However, the complexity arises due to Kaworu's true nature as an Angel and his ultimate mission conflicting with Shinji's role as an EVA pilot.

Though it's admirable that he's willing to help Shinji through his problems and even teach him how to play a piano, his self-sacrificing nature and his Shinji-centric matyrdom would make any relationship beyond the platonic self-destructive in the long run. A romantic relationship with Shinji would be overshadowed by the knowledge of Kaworu's eventual sacrifice, introducing an inevitable and heartbreaking element.

Why Mari Would Be The Best Choice For Shinji's Future?

Rei's true nature means she and Shinji can't be together. Shinji and Asuka confess their feelings but decide they've hurt each other too much and grown too far apart for a relationship. Kaworu realizes he threw himself so far into trying to help Shinji, he forgot himself along the way. In contrast, Mari represents hope for a new life in a new world, as her relationship with Shinji will be unburdened by the past.

This choice in the narrative may reflect the film's theme of moving forward and finding happiness, as Mari is portrayed as a character with less emotional baggage from the series' past. Her energetic and eccentric personality contrasts with Shinji's introverted nature. Their dynamic could bring a positive and lively influence into Shinji's life, potentially helping him break free from his emotional struggles.

Ultimately, the choice of Mari as Shinji's future companion reflects the film's thematic emphasis on moving forward and finding happiness. While interpretations may vary, Hideaki Anno's decision to set Shinji with Mari offers a unique perspective on how characters can evolve and find solace in new relationships.

#anime and manga #hideaki anno #neon genesis evangelion #rebuild of evangelion #evangelion asuka #mari illustrious makinami #shinji ikari #shinji x asuka #shinji x kaworu #neon genesis asuka #neon genesis rei #neon genesis kaworu #anime theory #anime thoughts #relationship #anime couple #character analysis #analysis #film analysis #anime review

[nerdlebirdle]

TW: low self esteem, depression, spiralling thoughts, toxic relationship mentioned

Random words cause i dont know who to talk to without feeling like a burden to irl friends so im putting it on the internet and idk if i'll even post it. i just want to compile my thoughts.

Im currently going through a depressive episode and got hit with bad news and work has been pissing me off. All negative emotions.

I told my boyfriend about it and just broke down in tears while we were cuddling in bed. Told him about the bad news, how i felt regarding bad news, that on top of being pissed because of work and bad news i have this depressive episode that i have been trying to stave off but cant. I cant run away from depressive episodes that long.

And he just... he held me and hugged me and reassured me im not a horrible person? And that he just felt bad that he didnt know how much i hide emotion wise???

And im laying there going "no its okay. I dont want to be a burden so i hide it. Its second nature" which yes it is, its a defense mechanism i have been using since i was little to avoid feeling like a burden and other horrible thinking i have of myself. (This is NOT a good defense mechanism, i know but im working on it.)

He just "youre not a burden" and when i apologized for bringing the mood down he said "its okay im glad you told me." And i... 😭😭 im emotional

He is so supportive and understanding and patient and kind. This is my first healthy relationship and its throwing me for a GIANT loop.

My ex literally hated hearing about my problems and would spin it to be about him. And when i didnt talk to him, he would get upset i wouldnt talk to him.

And now im in a relationship that not only is he always listening, he's reassuring me of everything im insecure about.

Telling me i am enough. Im not a burden. I can talk to him. Hes happy that i feel safe enough to talk to him about this stuff on MY OWN TIME. Like he doesnt expect to hear about it all the time or all at once but when i do talk about it he doesnt stop me. He doesnt get upset. He listens and he does everything he can to comfort me???? To reassure me its okay to feel like this and that im doing me best??? That im a strong person????

Its so utterly wild to me but it's so nice.

I never thought i would get something like this in my life. I didnt think i deserved it and sometimes i still feel like this. (Im working on it) but its the little things that my boyfriend does that just... i feel loved. I feel special. I feel important. And he just does so much and i dont know if he realizes how much he does with these little gestures.

I have not been one to talk about stuff like this to people. This leads back to my defense mechanism and keeping myself safe. But with him i feel safe, that i can talk to him and not feel judged.

HELL HE TOLD ME "i wont judge you. I will be here for you" 😭😭😭

Everything he has done in the 2 months we have been dating has been more than my ex did in 7 years. More than anyone else has in my entire life.

I know i have good friends that have been with me for years but nothing compares to how my boyfriend makes me feel.

Its throwing me for a loop because i havent had a healthy relationship before this one. I still struggle with my depression. But i know i can go to him if i need to talk to someone or even to just sit with. And that alone is a thought that helps me a ton.

My depression wont ever fully go away but it doesnt feel entirely lonely anymore. Yes the spiralling thoughts keep coming and going and sometimes i do convince myself that i went to far and let out too much emotion/information. But i know he has my back. That alone is such a helpful thing that sits in my head.

And its just so nice to have that.

I hope you all have someone like that. If you dont, please dont lose hope. You will find someone. Just hang in there. I may not know you, but i care about you. You are not alone. I know its tough. I know its hard. I have been in your position many a times. Hang in there. You are doing your best even if it doesnt feel like it. You got this. One step at a time. And no matter how small a step you take, its still progress.

#TW #depression #depressive thoughts #low self esteem #spiralling thoughts #mental health #healthy relationships #currently happening #its such a loop #a good one but a loop none the less

[schreiwen]

The Projectors are Bright

This was always a matter of contention with my ex. I can understand not many like hearing they project, yet they wielded such vehement defense surrounding the mere topic that you couldn’t bring it up even as a hypothetical, and barely the word itself. Any real, non-combative communication about it was impossible. They would claim repeatedly: “I know exactly what I’m feeling; it’s you who’s wrong/is projecting.”

I’d typically only bring it up when certain things made no sense to me. They would bring up things they said I was thinking or feeling that I genuinely wasn’t (cue the confusion), and being the over-thinker I am, I run all the “how, what, why”s through my head. In the end, projection seemed one of the possible conclusions. Not in a judgmental way — but a “if we recognize things, we can work through it” way. But their lash-back was oddly cold and inflexible and I was shut down and often targeted as the projector myself, by whatever logic they were working with. There were a few instances I observed most often, but the most commonly said that were entirely off-base;

“You’re always the one getting defensive.”

“You shut down whenever I try to talk about my feelings.”

“You’re trying to make me feel like I’m crazy!”

“You / They hate me.”

Since we couldn’t properly communicate about it, or get to where we were both coming from without my ex going into that vehement defense mode, I researched projection to check that I was in the right ballpark with these instances, and found quotes that felt like they applied to what I was experiencing with my ex / what they seemed to be going through:

“Through projection, they call you what they are. They accuse you of doing what they’re doing or planning on doing. They throw all the uncomfortable feelings onto you because they don’t want to deal with them. They throw their shame on you so they don’t have to deal with it. They make you feel guilty for who they are and what they’re doing because they’re unable to feel that guilt themselves.”

“Delusional projection occurs when you are noticing things about your environment (whether they are actually present or not) that lead to making concrete assumptions about your reality.”

“Psychological projection is usually a subconscious action. Your brain isn’t ready to process what you’re feeling, but it still wants an outside perspective of what’s going on.”

One of the many situations I remember hurting me was at the time I was finally able to end our relationship, and it was my ex’s sudden, adamant demand I “better not damage / trash [their] things,” that I return it all to them immediately, and that if I didn’t, they’d contact lawyers. Out of everything in our history of knowing each other, this was the most bizarre, out-of-left-field reaction I’d ever experienced with them, like they thought they were dealing with a complete stranger with whom they knew nothing about in the way of my entire character, my sense of morality.. simply who I’ve always been as a person.

It made me question if they had ever paid attention to who rather than what I was to them throughout our years of knowing each other, through all the friendship & love, because how could they think this if they truly knew me? I wished to understand what reasons they felt pointed to signs I’d ever be the type of person to vaguely consider vindictive behavior to begin with. I was thrown off & to be transparent—truly offended (which isn’t common for me - by nature I let most slide off me) by the idea they had such a massive disregard for someone they claimed to love.

It hurt me enough, I remember going into a sort of shutdown mode. Admittedly one of my worse coping mechanisms that I do my best to avoid, but this instance really got me.

Only long after our relationship’s end did I really recognize what power my ex held over me in this regard; they would back a person so far into a corner, whether intentional or not, that any form of relief or escape from their own tailored idea of reality they’ve forced you into begins to feel like a lost cause. You might at one point feel there’s a way out, or a way to explain your own reality, but they’ll cut you off or wear you down to the point it’s easiest to stay buried in their little corner, while they turn to the crowd nearby, pointing and screaming in your direction. Shutting down wasn’t my ideal and I always aim to utilize better coping mechanisms, but at the time I had reached my limit, so from then on all I could manage was a detached politeness to protect myself when interacting with them, almost like a business exchange. It was like being worried to move in the vicinity of a poised snake.

I wondered if these ideas existed in my ex’s head because it’s what they would’ve done to me if the situation had been reversed? Thinking this somehow hurt most. Would they have destroyed my possessions out of spite? Would that thought actually make them feel better? Did they destroy all of what they did still have of mine? I remember I’d already had a plan to return their things, but after the unprompted legal scare they dragged even their own family into despite me showing zero resistance to the matter, my anxiety was at its peak and all I wanted was to get everything back to them asap. I had to budget, so some of it took time (I’d already spent most of my money moving both our possessions to our new location), and in the end spent almost $800-900 shipping it back again, at no expense of their own. At a point during that terrible process, they insisted I was “legally obligated & responsible due to emotional trauma,” and I already felt defeated.

It was difficult to describe the sensations that lingered even throughout my shutdown; I felt like my soul had died at the realization my ex didn’t seem to see me as a person themselves, and could truly imagine me in this destructive way, whether because they truly believed it or another defense mechanism. I remember being physically sick over these thoughts for months.

The question still gets in my head: was my ex projecting, or was it being out of touch?

#toxic behavior #toxic relationship #emotional immaturity #projection #journal #manipulation #people of my past

[icouldntthinkofabetternamesook]

King’s Tide-Review

Well here we are folks. The season finale of Owl House. After this it’s three specials then nothing. Sorry this took so long to get out my brain refused to write for some reason.

SPOILERS BELOW!

This season has been nonstop action, non stop character development and non stop amazing writing. This episode serves to cap everything off and it does so with style and aplomb. We see the end to our current status quo as everything lined up for the Day of Unity goes off at once.

The Heroes

The Owl House sidesteps the adults being useless while still keeping to focus on the kids and that takes some clever writing. Raine and Eda try to go ahead with their plan which will not work for narrative reasons but does give the adults something to do and avoids the trope of the adults just using the kids as seen often in children's media. We get a sweet sister moment between Lilith and Eda, and of course Raine continues to be amazing. The deep care they feel for Eda really comes across in both dialogue and animation. Eda tries to make a joke of everything because that's her coping mechanism, and Raine immediately keeps their eyes on the situation and gets under her defenses. I look forward to more of them next season and kinda hope the series ends with their wedding.

The flashback to a teenaged previous gen team made probably more sense in earlier drafts where we had a full run time. More flashback filler episodes might have given a bit more context. Another aspect lost to Disney time crunch. Odelia should not be there either way. Raine and Edas plan is immediately wrecked but we get to see the other coven heads at work. Hammer man was cool, poison face was cool, healing coven lady with her murder scapals was cool. Then they are all immediately taken out by the draining spell and their fear in vindicating. No amount of power in a fasict system will ultimately protect you from its ethos.

King does the best he can and winds up saving the day at a steep price. King has another dream sequence of peaking in on The Collector, before King then wakes up in Willow's lap, who provides a touch of foreshadowing about the power of small things at right moments. King is rather useless to Hexsquad for the first half and winds up taking a suspension cable to the face and cracking his skull open. Hexsquad tries to put him to the side to keep him safe but that just puts him closer to the Collector. King can talk the Collector one child to another. His attempts at being serious went nowhere so he goes for manipulative. King is going to be pivotal to all things with the Collector going forward, and I am scared for him

Before moving on to discuss the villains, I want to scooch in a final thought on Luz. Luz is a hypocrite. I noticed it a few episodes ago and it’s once again prominent here. She tells everyone to get through the portal while she holds it, but the second King wants to stay so that everyone can get through the portal it's ‘no one is left behind’. She wants to keep King comfortable and in the dark, but freaks out when Eda tries to do the same to her. She is so willing to sacrifice herself and refuses to understand when others want to as well. She wants to be responsible but freaks out when people try to do the responsible thing. I think it’s my favorite character flaw I’ve ever seen in a protagonist. She holds herself to a different standard and not in a good way. Love it, want to see more of it. Keeps her from being too much of the bland, all loving hero, miss sunshine type.

The villains

Philip is the worst and starts the episode all ready to commit genocde and go home. The writers and animators don’t over act him being crazy. He is a calm, collected zealot, one who’s beliefs have had a four-hundred years to mature to a laser focus. He is 100% convinced he is doing the right thing, and acting rationally even under the most extreme circumstances. He’s authentically happy to see Luz as a fellow human, while in the process of murdering her. He thinks he’s saving her soul from satanic corruption. Such a shame she made the wrong choice, but needs must.

The tete-a-tete between Luz and Belos is a thing of beauty. They play each other so perfectly. The characters are intelligent because the writers are intelligent, and the writers are intelligent because they respect the intelligence of both the audience and the characters. Belos does not suddenly lose IQ points because he needs to be tricked. Luz gets Belos mad enough to throw her and then makes a believable performance in switching sides. It works both on Philip and the audience because the lie is true to her character. She in fact would do anything to save the people she loves, even if it means playing nice with the big bad. He clocks Luz hiding her hand immediately and that cleverness on his part makes her trick of hiding the glove all the better. The only problem is that the Day of Unity doesn’t have an off switch.

I do think that if Belos could stop the spell to save himself he would. We see him turn his head back into Philip to guilt trip Hunter. He’s not out of control. He’s realized that he’s going to die with everyone else and on a revenge rampage. He’s rational enough to plan and control his form and acting like a beast anyway. The calming memories spell immediately goes from happy brother memories to dead brother memories. There were so many dead Golden Guards down there, bones and all. Despite everything I think he actually loved his brother and then just buried all those memories under hate to justify his actions. When you see him turn into beast form, you know the writers are signing his death warrant. He’s that shape purely so the writers can kill him on screen. You know it's coming. It still hits hard.

Hexsquad vs the Emperor is a dark and intense fight scene made all the more so by the redlight of the eclipse. The animation is smooth, everyone is pulling out the full stops. Willow is an absolute tank and she can still barely hold him. He is terrifying and unstoppable.

So when the Collector stops him we know it's serious.

The Collector is absolutely terrifying, and I love him. He is a child, but he is a god powered child with a child's point of view that everything is a game. This is gonna be some wish him into the cornfield shit with the entire island, but mostly King, having to appease a mad god. The Collector is amazing, from their design, to their voice acting, to literally everything out of their mouth. A child from the stars who can’t be stopped and can’t be reasoned with, and has not even the smallest amount of malice in their heart. King has some power over them thanks to his position as friend, but that's tenuous at best. The Collector is so powerful that the Owl Beast immediately senses their freedom, and nearly burns up Eda’s body trying to run away. Rhaine has to rip off her arm to save her life.

Normally it's a downgrade to go from trapped villain with a two-D art style to normal character design but it works with the Collector. The music and the design and wrecking Belos in one shot all make it very clear we are dealing with something downright uncanny. You can understand them, but not stop them. Hexsquad takes the only sane option and runs.

We end on Eda, King and all the residents of the Boiling Isles at the mercy of a child god, and Hexsquad trapped in the human realm. Belos might still be a problem thanks to his goop blob. All our heroes can do is stand in the rain and try not to cry.

#toh #mine

[phoenixyfriend]

Commander Buir

Follow-up to this post. Not in any particular order, just spitballing ideas, with contributions from several friends on discord.

Like presumably it takes long enough for them all to meet up again that Anakin and Cody do, in fact, end up treating each other like family, just so I can have that good good "well, guess I'm Dad now" energy. Shmi isn't entirely sure what's going on but she's not a slave anymore and her kid seems to like this rando mando, so.

Anakin gets to have a mom and two dads, though one of the dads is arguably younger than him.

Also when they all meet up again and Cody explains the "General Skywalker got shrunk" thing, there are three reactions: (General) Obi-Wan: Oh, Anakin. Obi-Wan: [gestures to take him, ends up with an armful of clingy padatoddler] Anakin: You can't blame this on me, Obi. Obi-Wan, a little teary, because babies cause emotions: Of course I can, you absurd human being. ------ Rex: That's... my general. Anakin: I am, Captain. Rex: Cool cool cool I'm gonna go stand where I can't, uh, break you. Anakin: I'm not THAT fragile! ------ Ahsoka: [gasp] Skyguy is SKYKID! Anakin: Padawan, this is-- Ahsoka, grabbing him and cuddling: Oh my goodness you're adorable this is the best day ever. Anakin: This is humiliating, Snips, put me down. Ahsoka: Never.

Anakin hates being a toddler because of the lack of independence but Cody keeps picking him up when he's cranky and just holding him until he falls asleep and that's... nice.......

- The brain limitations aren't quite as bad as the situation with Sokanth and Ylliben in the other AU, but - Even if his brain is mostly adjusted he’s still got a tiny body with different needs that he’s not used to. Like, he needs to sleep more but he’s got more energy than usual when he’s awake and it’s all weird.

Cody carrying around toddler Anakin like "God you give me ulcers but you're adorable, you little shit."

Inconveniently tiny body aside, Anakin has a pretty great time in this au. His family are all together and safe and within reach. His wife isn't around, but toddler brain means he doesn't have the Romance Drive, so that's not as bad as it could be It could be significantly worse.

@atagotiak asked: Does Anakin get annoyed about being called cute? - To which I say, He bites the first few times but Shmi tells him that's Naughty so he stops. - Babies are cute so you packbond with them before they’re annoying, Anakin is cute as a self defense mechanism - He’s extra annoying so he needs to be extra cute

You know how you need to keep an eye on toddlers so they don't, like, fall down the stairs or put something toxic in their mouth? - They need to keep an eye on Anakin specifically so he doesn't rewire the ship they're in while they're in hyperspace. - He has less self control on account of being smol. He still has all the mechanical knowledge! Just less comprehension of y’know, consequences.

Anakin, with a sippy cup: This is demeaning. Ahsoka: Your hands don't work great enough to avoid accidents yet. Anakin: It's still embarrassing.

General Kenobi can't just kill Maul, not when Maul is baby right now (sixteen, which is baby enough) so he just. Kinda. Kidnaps a baby Sith. (It's fine. He's fine.)

General Kenobi (not to be confused with Padawan Kenobi) decides to declare Maul his new padawan because someone has to deal with this teenager, and Plo already claimed the rest of Ahsoka's training. And Anakin's three, so.

"What do we do with Maul?" "Eh, I can handle him. I dealt with teenage Anakin getting arrested for illegal pod-racing twice a month, I can work with this."

Maul bites, but only slightly more often than Anakin, it's fine

Ahsoka definitely bullies Maul whenever possible

Consider: Rex holding very still because Anakin wanted to be tall, so he climbed Rex. Being unexpectedly climbed is better than being unexpectedly yeeted. It's still extremely nerve-wracking. - Cody is perfectly capable of running around with a backpacking toddler General, but Rex freezes like a statue. - Ahsoka finds this hilarious

You know how little kids like to be thrown around and swung in circles and stuff like that? This must get even more ridiculous with force users. Can throw a child real high and catch them safely. - Rex panics whenever Ahsoka throws her chibified Master

Literally everyone except Rex loves being yeeted. Even Maul can appreciate a good tactical yeet no shut up he's not having fun this is TRAINING - Rex is Suffering - Cody, a very Tired Dad, deserves to mock his vod'ika a little, as stress relief - Rex, a certified Little Brother, shoves Cody off something tall. Jokes on him, Cody thinks freefall is fun too.

Tia asked: So the people who didn’t exist yet got flung bodily back in time and Anakin did the mental time travel. Why did Obi-Wan not become Padawan Kenobi? (I mean “because I want it that way” is def a good enough answer I’m just wondering if there’s any reason.) - Which, well, it really was mostly "I want to" but here's two options, both of which come down to Blame Daughter and Father. 1. They figured a responsible adult Jedi Master was needed to convince people. 2. Nobody was supposed to get de-aged but Daughter figured they needed to make Anakin less liable to kill things for a few years. - Also IDK the Force God-Manifestations also took away any risk of rapid aging and early death from the clones because uhhhhhhhhhhh I said so

Rex and Ahsoka are fumbling their way through a relationship where ages are just really confusing and awkward, so they're keeping it to just kisses and cuddles for a bit.

Cody is so tired he doesn't even realize anyone's hitting on him until it's been three years of co-parenting with Shmi and his General. - Somehow Anakin knows Cody is in a relationship before Cody does. Cody has never been so embarrassed. - How did he manage to be less observant than Skywalker? -- it was sabotage; all his brain cells were taken up in managing said Skywalker -- Because Skywalker was up at three in the morning whacking a training droid with a stick so he didn't have the energy for Relationships

Also Shmi's come-ons are super subtle, while the General's are... well, Cody's gotten very used to ignoring anything ambiguous on that end because fraternization rules, and also because Obi-Wan flirts a lot with everyone. So.

Please imagine Cody and General Kenobi walking around with Anakin tucked into a toddler sling while they do whatever work they've ended up with at the Temple. - Yes, Cody is helping the Jedi figure out the best plan of attack to take down this slave ring because his grasp on tactics is phenomenal and he knows how to deploy people at greatest efficiency, but also he's got a nosy toddler on his hip who keeps offering his own insane-but-competent ideas. - General Kenobi ends up with a Council Seat just on account of, like, being the kind of person he is. As often as not, he's got Anakin tucked into his robes, chewing on the ear of a stuffed tooka or something.

IDK what Shmi's doing but apparently Legends had it that some of the administrative and support positions in the Temple were held by non-Jedi civilians? So probably something like that.

GENERAL KENOBI LECTURING PADAWAN MAUL WHILE ANAKIN'S BALANCED ON HIS HIP AND GLARING AT MAUL FOR STEALING HIS DAD

General Kenobi: Ahsoka's babysitting. Anakin: I'm her master, I don't need babysitting, this is-- General Kenobi: Fine, then you need supervision, so that you don't blow up a training salle again. Anakin: And you think Ahsoka would stop me? General Kenobi, eye twitching: Fine, I'm leaving you with Plo.

Even if he’s mentally an adult Anakin always needs supervision Look at canon! Anakin was left without supervision for like two days and he became a Sith

Quinlan gets distracted by how attractive General Kenobi is and tells Obi-Wan "dude, you're gonna be so hot once you can get rid of the stupid haircut" and Obi-Wan pushes him into the nearest pond.

They end up with this weird "Uncle Jango" situation (uncle to Anakin, via weird brotherhood-ish to Cody) because Rex and Cody are just like "Uhhhhhhhhh yeah okay" about him eventually, and Jango just like. Drops by. Trying to Earn Affection Of Blood Kin by bringing weird gifts for them and their (ugh) Jedi.

"Okay, Rex'ika, I stopped by Shili--" "What?" "--and apparently this is a delicacy there, so just... your girlfriend will like it." "She's not my girlfriend." "..." "Okay, I can't call her my girlfriend. Jedi have rules about that sort of thing, and--" "This will make your Jedi happy, probably. Just take it, kid."

Baby Anakin got his arm back but for some inexplicable reason still has The Eye Scar. He matches Buir.

#disaster lineage #Anakin Skywalker #CodyWan #Commander Cody #Obi Wan Kenobi #Ahsoka Tano #Captain Rex #Shmi Skywalker #Maul #Darth Maul #Rexsoka #time travel #de aging #baby characters #Quinlan Vos #Phoenix Posts #Commander Buir

[x-childish-x]

(part 1) i am loving these anakin x mother figure concepts 😄 could i also request one haha, after order 66 reader survives and becomes a grey jedi. while on a mission, she runs into darth vader. they fight for a little bit, but soon stop after they recognize each other through the force. surprisingly, vader isn’t hostile towards her while they talk, but he’s not calm either. reader refuses to keep calling him vader. after their convo reader slowly approaches him and

Something You're Not

Pairing: Darth Vader x fem!reader

Fandom: Star Wars

Warnings: Darth Vader, female!reader, mother figure!reader, crying, mentions to feeling like a failure, fighting, mentions to Order 66

Word Count: 1,352

A/N: Hello lovely! Wow I loved writing this request! First Darth Vader request, woo! It was so fun to write because the entire time I felt I could see this all playing out! Thank you for the request and support! I appreciate it so much! Feedback is always welcome and appreciated, I really hope that you all enjoy this one!!

Summary: You finally reach the force signature that had been reaching out with you for weeks, only to realize it's none other than Darth Vader, the boy you once raised.

PART TWO, PART THREE, PART FOUR

(gif! not mine!)

"Rex, take care of Ahsoka for me... I know how badly she wants to be on this mission. I can't risk it," you mumbled through the holo-comm as you carefully landed your ship.

"You know I always will. She's busy with Ezra right now anyways, so hopefully, he'll keep her mind occupied. Just be safe. If this is Maul, we need to know why he's been reaching out to you," Rex replied, his voice sounding tired.

You sighed, clicking everything off before standing, "Don't worry, Rex. It'll work out. I'll be home within a rotation."

"You better be," Rex joked lightly, "Be safe (y/n). May the force be with you."

"And with you."

Clicking off the holo-comm and leaving it on the ship, you quickly set off outside. Pulling up the hood on your grey cloak, you looked around cautiously, taking in your surroundings and using the force to reach out.

You could feel the dark side of the force more prominently now that you were here. It was almost strong enough to make out a force signature, but not completely. Despite the fact you still seemed far away from the dark force energy, it felt incredibly familiar, and that was what lead you to believe it was Maul. After all, he was the only Sith whose force signature you were familiar with.

It didn't take long for you to find the correct path leading to the Sith. Following the dark force signature proved to be an easy task for you. You trekked through the forest for what felt like hours. You carefully avoided all unknown plants and made sure to keep your presence as obscure as possible. You were using the force to the best advantage you could, mapping out your path while still trying to identify the oddly familiar Sith signature.

Finally breaking out into a clearing, you held your breath at the sight of Darth Vader's back. His cloak swooshed in the light breeze as you watched him, quickly thinking over everything you'd ever heard about him. You felt like you were in a holo-film, at the big climax moment when you face off the main villain. Fog would be piling in, surrounding you and Darth Vader as you prepare to fight.

Undoubtedly he knew you were there, and despite the fact, the two of you had never encountered each other before, your force signatures were incredibly familiar. Dancing around each other like fawns, trying to figure out why the unknown was so incredibly welcoming, like coming back to an old friend.

"I did not know you'd survived Order 66," Vader's ominous voice broke through the silence, venom, and hatred surrounding each word.

Slowly you stepped out from the faint protection of the trees, "It wasn't of my knowledge that you even knew me."

"I don't," Vader replied curtly, allowing a pause as your signatures moved around one another, "You're a Jedi unaccounted for."

"I prefer it that way," You snarled.

Dashing forward at the same moment Vader's force signature delivered a harsh prod to your own, you unsheathed your lightsaber. Leaping into the air and slashing down on Vader's back, you made contact with his lightsaber, sparks of grey and red dancing in the calm aura of the planet. He was quick to spin and send a counter swing at you, but you blocked it quickly. You locked sabers and spun him around, doing your best to throw him off.

Despite the situation of your fighting, you found each other still dancing within the force, trying to identify each other's signature. Your fighting was incredibly familiar to him, and his defense was familiar to you. Akin to a thunderstorm, you both fought quickly and powerfully. Neither obtaining the upper hand, you matched perfectly clash after clash, block after block.

Your fierce fighting was like a tornado destroying a small town. The planet around you was calm and peaceful, undisturbed by the fight for life you'd engaged yourself in. It certainly wasn't Maul who'd been trying to connect with you over the past weeks, and you found yourself wishing that it had been the Dathomirian instead. You'd overcome enough and lost too much to not give up now.

Finally flipping away, your hood fell as your force signatures connected, a gasp tumbling from your lips, "Anakin?"

"Master (y/l/n)," Vader responded softly.

A silence fell as you stared at one another. Of course, he was familiar. You trained Anakin, helped Obi-Wan raise him. You'd been Anakin's mom ever since he'd joined the Jedi, and he, your son. You'd assumed he'd died in Order 66, as Obi-Wan refused to talk to you. But now, staring across at Anakin in Vader's armor, you felt more like a failure than you'd ever had.

"You traded the purple for grey," Vader noted, causing you to look down at your blade.

Looking up at Anakin, you fought to keep your voice strong, "You traded blue for red, Ani."

"Anakin's dead," He snarled, turning off his lightsaber.

You mocked his actions, tilting your head slightly, "If Vader was here, he would've killed me already, Anakin."

"I am Vader! My name is Vader," The man huffed, "I killed Anakin myself!"

You shook your head, "I will not call you something you're not, Anakin. I trained you to be honest... true to yourself and your emotions. I will do the same now."

Vader seemed to falter, his hands repeatedly clenched and unclenched. The soft whir of machinery filled the air as you stared at the man in front of you. You took a step forward slowly, your eyes filling with remorse as you used the force to search through Anakin.

"What'd they do to you, my sweet Ani?" You whispered, "Why didn't you come to me? I could've helped you."

"Nobody could've helped him!" Anakin raged, yelling in anger that seemed directed at himself, "He was lost! Gone! Anakin would've died regardless! I, Vader, would've killed him regardless!"

"No," You mumbled, looking around at the planet you'd been called to, "You wouldn't have died, Ani. It would've been like any other mission, any other obstacle before. I would've helped you get through it, like always."

"Anakin is dead!" Vader cried out, his voice breaking, a hint of desperation sneaking through, "He's gone."

Slowly, you stepped forward, watching the way Anakin's chest rose and fell with each mechanical breath, "No... you're not gone, Anakin. You're not gone, and like all the times before, I'll be waiting to help you."

Taking in a deep breath, you anxiously wrapped your arms around Anakin, noticing how much taller he was. His arms remained by his side in shock, trying to sort out his emotions. Anakin's mechanical breathing filled your ears as you squeezed the boy you raised. Tears fell down your cheeks as you held him to your chest, wishing you had been able to help him. Wishing you'd stayed by Anakin more during the Clone Wars. Wishing that you could turn back time and save the little boy you loved so much.

Squeezing tighter for a brief second, you whispered, "I love you, no matter what, Anakin."

Letting go of the man, you stepped back quickly, hoping that the powerful Sith Lord hadn't seen your tears. But you knew that you'd been too slow, and you knew Anakin knew you better than that. Watching as you walked back and disappeared into the trees you'd come from, Darth Vader wondered if he would ever see you again. He'd reached out to you for weeks, and he wondered now if you would ever reach out to him, remind him you were still alive, waiting for Anakin to return.

Boarding your shuttle, you let out a cry as you reached for your comm. There were so many regrets you held and so much you wished you would've done. But the past was not something you could dwell on. You could only hope that you'd been able to reach Anakin quickly enough.

"Rex?" You called weakly into the comm. You waited patiently for Rex's reply until you heard your name called worriedly, "I'm coming home."

Taglist: @nowthisisdark

#x-childish-x #Darth vader x reader #Darth vader x you #Darth vader x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x mother figure!reader #Darth vader x fem!reader #anakin skywalker x fem!reader #darthvaderxyou #darthvaderxreader #darthvaderxy/n #star wars #starwars #sw #star wars the original trilogy #darthvaderxfem!reader #anakinskywalkerxfem!reader #anakinskywalkerxyou #anakinskywalkerxy/n #anakinskywalkerxreader #anakin skywalker #anakinskywalker #Darth vader #darthvader

[sukirichi]

Like, what happens to Mia? How does Gojo end up picking us? Naoya? How about Naoya? 😭😭😭🙏🏼😔

Omggg if you’re not going to continue reckless, can you please please please tell us how it ends? 😭😭😭 I don’t think I can bear living not knowing how it ends 😭 please? 😔😢🙏🏼😭

okay well here’s how it was gonna go, pls keep in mind my storytelling in asks and in writing are diff so this might be explained crappily HAHAHAHA but basically in reckless...

gojo gets shot in the head by his abusive dad bcos he finally stood up against him, but that backfired. his father is really adamant on control, and gojo loses his memories at the same time y/n gave birth. she decided to keep the baby after deciding that she wants a family after all, but when gojo woke up with mixed and lost memories, he only remembers mia and everything after her accident was gone. gojo becomes distorted and even becomes harsh sometimes, especially when y/n said they had a baby and she was his friend, bcos gojo’s mindset was from way back to six years ago, where he had lots of issues with his family and mia’s that he was wary who to trust.

so,,, they didn’t want gojo to hurt y/n bcos he’s such in an emotional mess that he has no control of himself. eventually, y/n decides to stay away but the baby is adopted by gojo and mia, who gets married for the sake of business and gojo’s current situation. truthfully, mia doesn’t want to marry him bcos it would hurt y/n and she’s not that awful. mia and y/n become friends after realizing they’re pretty similar and actually find genuine friendship with one another. she doesn’t have a choice tho and gojo, mia, along with gojo’s mom who divorced her husband for his abuse move to the states where they raised y/n and gojo’s daughter, sayori, leaving y/n all alone in tokyo who then becomes vice president of kamo enterprises. basically, it shows the repeated history of y/n’s father choosing to hide her from her real parents, and she begins to understand why he did that bcos she also has not really met her own daughter. y/n knows mia and gojo could take care of sayori better than she could, especially with the fact that gojo’s memories are mixed and transfixed on the timeline of him dating mia, mia giving birth to sayori, then them getting married. y/n is not present at all in his memories. gojo thinks he was the one in a car accident, not mia.

sayori is about four years old when gojo decides to come back to tokyo. now that he’s disowned and his mother has also left, gojo becomes a successful model in the states. he comes home bcos he remembers geto and wants to start their own agency (gojo as a model, geto as the photographer.) mia is wary at first for fear gojo might remember everything. she’s not being selfish; the doctors warned that anything that could potentially trigger gojo’s memories that his subconscious has erased could be detrimental to him. mia tries to hold it off but gojo insists, so the gojo/yamazaki family go back and that’s where gojo meets y/n, who he first thought was geto’s new wife.

in the reckless fanart, geto’s photo is like this.

geto’s ring is silver - it’s his dead wife’s ring. the hand caressing him is gold - it’s y/n wearing the ring of gojo’s mother, who by then has already apologized before they all left.

geto and y/n become best friends on the course of four years. missing her daughter, y/n becomes attached to mei (geto’s daughter) and acts more like a mom than an aunt. geto basks in this faux family they’ve built, though he makes sure mei is not too dependent or expecting that y/n would be her mom. he falls in love with y/n and he notices how after gojo left, she becomes softer and a lot sweeter. all the anger and hatred disappeared, all thanks to y/n finding peace with her new life and making up with her mother, Valeria, who once overdosed on drugs after it was exposed to the public that Y/N is a child she abandoned. y/n saved Valeria by rushing her to the hospital, which is also the same time that Y/N saw gojo being wheeled in the emergency room with a bullet in his head.

now that gojo is back, he can’t help but notice that y/n is avoiding him. she feels familiar but he plays it off over her being a close friend and possible lover of geto. meanwhile, y/n’s dedication to pretending he doesn’t exist breaks slowly when she sees sayori, a beautiful little girl who’s growing up, call mia as her “mommy.” it hurts her that she missed her first words, first steps, or that she’s being excluded in the family that is truly hers, but everyone is happy and doing great that she chooses to be the only who isn’t for the sake of everyone else.

in ch2, gojo goes to a carnival/amusement park and takes a polaroid photo with y/n. he finds them in one of the stuff he left behind in the penthouse he used to live in; shocked bcos y/n had been adamant they never met before. that’s when he begins to confront her on who she really is what they really used to be. he feels guilty that he can’t remember, but most of all, gojo is torn inside that y/n had been all alone the whole time when he promised he would be there.

its complicated for them since gojo x mia are already married, and sayori got her mom’s stubborness so its difficult for her to believe someone she never met before is her real mom and mia is...well, mia. mia actually helps sayori accept that she is not the real mom, apologizing to the child for lying to them and it ends up with sayori running away and getting lost for a few hours. sayori is scared since tokyo is alien to her and she doesn’t speak japanese, but when y/n finds her, she comes running to her arms and that is when she begins to soften up around her real mom.

this is where the slowburn with gojo and y/n begins. for them, getting to know each other once more on a clean slate is both refreshing yet scary, especially since one has erased the past in their mind and the other is desperately trying to forget it. the thing about the mia x gojo as a married couple and parents is that gojo deep down feels he does not love mia that way. he can’t explain why there’s just something missing or confusing in his life. he loves mia out of respect and friendship, but he would never admit that he is not in love with his wife. however, he plays it over the fact that its “just the broken memories” and lies to himself that he is very much in love with her. when he meets y/n again, however, it makes sense. he does love y/n and him forgetting her was a defense mechanism of his system to erase the most painful times of his life, and that included his guilt for hurting y/n with the abuse of his parents who controlled the way he acted around her. as for mia, she also does not love gojo and she probably never did, but for the sake of his well being and for sayori’s future (which was entrusted to her by y/n) she stayed with him. now though, mia knows its time to let go.

geto...it is not easy for geto. he loves y/n so much because of her tenacity and kindness, but he also loves her enough to know she is happier with someone else. to him, he’s content knowing that she felt less lonely when he was around and that he helped make her smile. in the end, geto has closure with y/n who apologizes for not returning his feelings.

NAOYAAAAA though...ofc i gave him a good ending 💕 after he was brutally rejected by Mia, y/n cheers him up by setting Naoya up with a law professor around his age, who is Ayame. Ayame is supposed to be named Suki tbh 😋 but I thought the self insert is a little too much so I changed it to Ayame. Ayame is pretty funny and even respects that Naoya is uncomfortable on the first date, telling him that it doesn’t have to be that kind of date and she doesn’t expect anything from him. Ayame’s bubbly yet blunt nature is a breath of fresh air from Mia’s secretive and perfectionist nature and the two become good friends. Naoya and Ayame end up hanging out a lot bcos “thats what friends do” but it doesn’t take long before they go out together. And ofc, Naoya is a little ashamed that Ayame was the first to confess and she beat him to it, but they get married and are happy nonetheless 💕 Mia ends up as a successful doctor who helps her family with the business, divorces Gojo, but she still has no plans to marry and is perfectly happy and content to focus on her career.

Eventually, Gojo and Y/N get married once everything is sorted out. Gojo becomes a well known model in Tokyo as well, and Gojo Group is absorbed by Y/N herself after proving Gojo’s father guilty of attempted murder. Gojo doesn’t want anything more to do with the corporate world though, but Y/N stays and kicks ass as a vice president to all the merged companies.

Y/N and Valeria also makes up after Valeria is indebted to Y/N who saved her life, and Valeria’s parents become more supportive and start to see Valeria more as a person than a child to inherit the business. Albeit being in her 40s, Valeria enjoys the youth she lost only now, but also enjoys being the grandmother to Sayori. Its a little awkward between Valeria and Y/N after everything that happened, but they’re trying and are even dubbed as the iconic motherly duo who is unbeatable in their games.

Gojo’s father is thrown into prison, and his main victim, his own wife, also shows recovery from the years of abuse. Although her obsessive control with Gojo and his sister (the eldest Gojo child) was not right, his mom was left with no choice but to keep them on close watch and control their lives because she was trying to keep them safe from their father’s wrath. In the end, Gojo’s mom makes up by being a better mother, and Gojo and his sister forgives her while also apologizing that both of them left home when they knew their mom always shouldered the abuse to protect her kids.

Overall, its a happy ending for most of the characters! the last chapter is Sayori’s wedding to Naoya and Ayame’s son, Naori, who is a few years younger than his bride. Gojo is grumbling to Y/N about how his little girl is all grown up now, and that their son, Shinichiro, who is 18 in that timeline is also maturing and would be leaving the nest soon. Y/N thinks its adorable and asks Gojo to just enjoy the union because its only one of the many great memories they would still have to make.

That’s how it would end! Gojo Best Dad and Gojo DILF. Everyone is happy!

Basically the theme of Reckless is that sometimes the most unexpected things we do out of character can end up as one of the greatest things to ever happen, which in their case was the suprise baby. They went through a lot and it has a lot of psychological themes, along with heavy family drama, but overall I wanted the series to be a heartwarming one by the end. I really would’ve loved to see it all happen but I am also happy to share it to you guys in this way.

So yeah, happy reading and thanks so much for supporting Reckless !! I was also thinking of doing maybe like a bonus chapter where the characters pretend it was all a movie and they’re actors that you can talk to, but that didn’t happen so :// anyways I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for reading up until here 💕

#asks with naoya's trophy wife #series: reckless #tw: abuse #sorry for the typos i wrote this on my phone without glasses lol

[1994sunflower]

what if Michael accidentally hurts y/n. Like maybe she’s coming home from her classes and she sees him beating someone up and she tries to stop him and he hurts her on accident. Sorry I just really love your writing especially angst ;)

thank you so much! i love angst too hehe...I dont know how angsty this is but i put a little bit of fluff at the end lol

also, i’m so sorry for being so inactive guys i really am working on stuff i promise :(( but i’m also making like 20 essays for school applications so it’s going slowly. hope you like this!

in which michael accidentally hurts you

You’re never sure how they start. You couldn’t picture something making you so angry that you’d resort to fists. Even your boyfriend, as apathetic as he is with most people, you didn’t know his violent side intimately. It was just never the way Michael was with you. It almost felt like a stranger when you saw evidence of it acting against others, hurting others. 

You never minded much, just tried to stop him and chastised him a bit while you patched him up. Because at the end of the day you knew he wasn’t a bad guy. Even appreciated his ability to defend himself and you. But still the mystery was always preserved. How the man that held you close, looked at you with nothing but love could be the cause of so many broken bones and bloodshed. Was it his temper that you had never seen or was it his not caring of anyone or even himself, the harm it could bring to him if he wasn’t careful.

Either way you hated it. Hated it each time you heard of it, his (comparatively much more violent) past of it and even more when you caught him at it yourself. It was never on purpose. Because if Michael had known you were anywhere near the vicinity he would stop, or leave to finish his business without you being there to witness that side of him. 

You were docile, so much different than him. Michael knew that as well as anyone else. He knew he didn’t deserve you. So, he tried to hard to avoid adding to the list of why. He could imagine in his worst nightmares you seeing that dark side of him, the one that was so much better than before thanks to you, and be terrified. Realize what kind of man you had chosen and finally see that you needed someone better. Someone who wasn’t so aggressive, so violent, so scary. He didn’t want you to look at him with those eyes. Scared, like you never really knew him. Because the truth was you knew him better than anyone else.

Usually you’d catch him when you were walking back from class. Something he should be doing as well. Instead, he’d be somewhere where he imagined you’d never cross paths, far from your last class. Too bad you liked to walk around campus and take shortcuts more than you should. 

It was usually the same thing. He’d have the upper hand. With his height and strength, it was easy. But that’d leave a victim, someone who couldn’t properly defend themselves against the wrath brought on by whatever they had done to Michael. Sometimes as little as bumping into him. You, with all your goodness and empathy, always stopped your boyfriend because you knew only you could. And if you could help someone, you’d always take the opportunity. 

This time was a little different. Maybe Michael had gotten his days crossed, maybe he forgot you had lab that day and you’d have to pass by that way. But in the walk from your building back to off campus, in the little alleyway of one of the last buildings separating campus from the main street, you heard it. The building was tall and its brick walls looked more like formidable walls, so you had to keep walking until you were right at the entryway of the surprisingly big alley to see. 

But your boyfriend was unmistakable. And so was the way he was punching down another boy. The boy was younger than him, it was obvious, maybe even a freshman. Which somehow made it worse. But they were almost equally matched in height and the boy, either from adrenaline or reflex, wasn’t just holding his hands up in defense. He landed more than a few punches back at your boyfriend. Hitting him in his jaw and face, you already saw some scrapes on his temple and cheek. 

Your face contorted into panic at the sight of Michael getting hurt. Maybe even more fear-stricken at that fact than you would have been just seeing another person getting hurt by his hand. It wasn’t fair to care more about him than the other boy, especially when you were sure Michael was the aggressor. But you didn’t care. You loved him too much to see him get hurt. It was the reason you hated him fighting so much, you dreaded to see the consequences it could end up having on him. You’d told him so many times to stop fighting in the past but he wouldn’t listen. He was getting better but never stopping. Being as good for his girlfriend as possible so you’d be proud of him.

There wasn’t much need to worry, though. A few punches landed on him but he still was dominating the fight by far. Especially when he was more pissed off at the younger boy fighting back. But it didn’t matter. If it went on the way it currently was going, both of them would be more seriously injured than maybe they even realized.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t call out to him. Maybe it was the urgency of the situation that had you mute and just running to your boyfriend as quickly as you could. You always stopped him, but that was always when he realized it was you by the sound of your voice. It never occurred to you that he wouldn’t recognize your touch when he was so blinded by rage. You didn’t realize until you were too close, had already touched his arm desperately, hoping to stop any more attacks from raining down on the other boy. You didn’t even get a chance to call out to him, let him listen to your familiar voice that always seemed to soothe him.

By then, he had already pushed you away. He did it without even looking at you, his anger still directed at the boy and no one would stop him — at least when he thought you wouldn’t be there. 

“Get the fuck off me.” His words were in a tone you’d never heard directed at you, only at other people. And his hand hit your shoulder and sent you flying back, landing with a loud thud on the concrete. 

You weren’t sure if the feeling of your body left lingering on his fingers was what made him recognize who he had just pushed. Or maybe it was the recognition of your voice in the pained yell you had let out as you fell down. But he froze. So completely paralyzed, his body rigid. He was begging that as he turned around, slowly almost mechanically, he wouldn’t see you on the ground. That you wouldn’t be the person he had just physically hurt in his anger. 

It was fruitless. As he kept his grip on his opponents shirt, but stopped yelling, stopped assaulting; just looking behind him, dreading what he would see. It was you. You sitting up, your knees and arms scraped from the fall, some blood and red, raw skin on the injuries. Your pretty dress was crumpled and dirty, bits of concrete, dirt and filth marred your spotless person. His pure, fragile girl.

But it was your face that had him letting go of the boy, arms hanging limply at his side, anger forgotten and eyes wide in horror at what he had just done to his girlfriend who he loved so much. You were looking up at him, tears in your eyes from the pain. They flowed down your cheeks and while you were silent, your eyes screamed at him what hurt more than any of the punches he had just taken. It’s your fault.

He hadn’t pushed that hard. But to your smaller body, even a light hit from him would be painful and powerful. Especially with his added strength.

“Y/N…” The boy was long forgotten. Even when he took the opportunity to run away. Michael forgot the reason for the fight in the first place. Nothing, really, entered his mind as important except you. All his thoughts had zeroed in on the scene in front of him, what he had just done to you. You were the best thing to ever happen to him. He cared about you so much. He loved you more than anyone else, even himself. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do. He’d hurt himself before he let anything touch you. All he ever wanted was to protect you. But yet, he was the one that ended up doing just that.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t-” Know it was you. 

He fucked up. He’d never felt more ashamed at having lost control. If he hadn’t, he’d have stopped and seen it was you. He would have listened when your little hand took hold of his arm. Recognized the feeling of your skin on his like he could so easily do when he was in the right frame of mind. He wouldn’t have hurt you. You wouldn’t be on the ground, dirty and injured because of him. 

But as he stepped towards you, already bending down to help you up, check on you, it got worse. It was worse before you pushed yourself back with the heels of your feet, putting more distance between him and you, making sure he couldn’t get near you. “Don’t touch me.” 

Hurt flashed on his face at your words. At you rejecting to even be near him. The one person that had always stuck by him through everything and forgave him even with how often he fucked up. The one that gave him an unconditional love he wasn’t used to. Part of him new he deserved it, for hurting you even if it was an accident. But the ache he felt when he couldn’t even help you, ask for your forgiveness because you didn’t want to hear it right then, was strong. 

Your voice wavered and broke but your eyes showed very clearly how much you meant those words. He wasn’t sure what was worst to see in them, the anger or the fear. 

Why were you even there? He was sure you had class on the opposite side of campus. It was why he never imagined you were the one trying to stop him. He pictured you walking peacefully from your class back home to wait for him to get back to you. Not what actually ended up happening. He would have never fought in a place you could so easily have seen, so easily have gotten hurt. Especially when he wanted to make you see how much better he was being for you, even if not by much. If you had called out to him, he hadn’t even heard you.

Michael felt a pit at his stomach. Could already hear you breaking up with him, because a girl like you didn’t deserve to be on the ground, looking so pretty and innocent and have that ruined because her boyfriend couldn’t just listen to her and try to be less violent with others. Dread filled him at the different possibilities of losing you this could bring him. None of them did he want. But still, watching you wince as you emotionally collected yourself, he had to curse himself. He wouldn’t blame you. It’s his fault.

Even at your words, he still moved forward, getting down on his knees to be on your level. When you lifted up your palms from the ground, they were tinged pink from the fall and bits and pieces of the concrete were stuck to the palms of your hands. His jaw locked at the sight, regret filling his mind.

Taking your small hands in his, slowly, he sucked in a relieved breath when you didn’t push him away like he thought you would. Instead, he wouldn’t meet your big eyes as he felt them looking at him, he couldn’t. It was so shameful to see that pure wide eyed look of yours and know he had hurt someone that wholesome and kind. 

His gaze stayed on your hands as you held them out palm up. One of his hands cupped the back of your two hands while the other he used to gently pick off the grovel. Not too fast lest they be sharp and hurt you. It was almost comical really, to see his hands, still bloody at the knuckles from the fight, being so tender only a few minutes later. 

“Does it hurt?” He asked you when he was done. When you winced as you curled your fingers in was the answer. 

You wouldn’t even look at him. Let alone acknowledge the apology begging to leave his lips. And he had to resist the urge to take you into his arms so he wouldn’t feel the coldness you were currently giving him. Tears were still running down your cheek by the time your backpack that had fallen beside you was taken up by Michael. He slung it across his shoulder easily, no matter how heavy you had found it. Then his arm was around your waist and his hand on your arm, pulling you up finally from the ground that should be kissed at your feet instead of you laying in it. 

Clearly, he wasn’t taking your command to not touch you seriously. But you didn’t make any move to enforce it - despite how angry you felt, how struck at what he had done to you, no matter that he had done it unconsciously. He needed it, to feel as if he hadn’t completely destroyed everything in the relationship he cherished so much. That the only girl he loved and respected didn’t feel terrified of him and distrust him.

He’d brought a lot of emotions out of you, particularly pleasure, but pain was never meant to be one of them.

That much was obvious in the almost shameful look on his face all the way back to your house - the place you’d forced him to take you to instead of his own home. You would’ve preferred to go home by yourself, your anger and freight not being appropriate to be next to him, let alone have him nearly piggyback carrying you all the way. But he wouldn’t leave your side. 

It was also seen in his small voice, as shaky and almost insecure as you’d ever heard it when you forced him to put you down as you finally got home. The security of your home giving you what your had been lacking the second Michael sent you to the ground, the safety you usually got from him was weak.

“I can help...” 

“No, I got it.” Your words were cold, so different from your usually light and happy voice, as you walked away from him and to your bathroom where you kept the first aid kit. It was usually there for him whenever he got in a fight and got hurt. But now, you needed it.

He flinched at your tone. Despite whatever fights he ever got in, you were the only one who could ever truly hurt him. 

Michael stayed in the living room silently while you disinfected your wounds and covered them up. He hurt you. You could still feel the pain of it, see it physically manifested. You were still crying, sniffling as quietly as you could. It didn’t hurt so much as it did scare you. Not that you were scared of him. Despite what happened, you knew it was an accident and you knew he would never hurt you purposely like that ever. 

But the fact it happened, the fact he had been so lost in his anger that he didn’t stop and think about what he was doing and his surroundings. The fact that you had felt his strength in such an ugly, dangerous way. The suddenness of it scared you. 

And you hated feeling that towards your boyfriend. You only wanted to feel happy and loved with him, nothing as negative as this. It was also frustrating, knowing you had warned him of consequences of his actions like this, though never expected you’d ever be on the receiving end of it, but he still hasn’t changed. But this was the last time you’d ever allow yourself to be in this position.

It made you almost think that your friends, the rumors, maybe they were more right about Michael and his anger than you were whenever you tried to defend him. You wanted your boyfriend to be safe. You didn’t want to believe they were right. Otherwise, you didn’t really know the man you claimed to love.

You were mad and frightened. But it came from a place of love. You didn’t want him to get hurt and you especially didn’t want it to get to this point where he couldn’t even stop himself before it got out of his control until it was too late. You loved him.

When you finished fixing yourself up as best as you could, you left the bathroom and moved quietly into your living room where Michael was sitting silently. His face was in his hands. His very posture screamed regret and you didn’t even want to imagine how dark and self-deprecating his thoughts were as he blamed himself for hurting you, you knew it was hard for him.

He’d told you so many times it was the last thing he wanted. You weren’t sure he could forgive himself. Especially when he knew his strength compared to yours, when he saw your injuries caused by his hand. 

You weren’t sure he even felt your presence when you slowly sat down next to him on the couch, the kit still in your hands. “Here, let me cover that up.”

He had bruises all over his face, particularly his jaw but he had an especially nasty cut on his forehead. 

But when you raised your hands to start working on it, Michael finally looked at you, only to move his head back and shake his head. You were too good for this world, to still worry about him after everything. 

“Don’t waste it on me.”

With you red rimmed eyes, your voice was still more serious than usual but your words were almost normal, “Don’t be silly. You’re hurt.”

Michael kept silent as you focused on his injury. But you could tell his mind was moving quickly, probably figuring out what to say to you.

You wanted him to feel bad, it wasn’t okay and he needed to feel it in order to change. But you didn’t want him to drive himself crazy with kicking himself in the back for what he accidentally did. He stopped as soon as it happened, it gave you hope of how he could change. How this could be a wake up call.

It was only when you were almost done that he spoke. “I didn’t know you were the one grabbing me. I swear I would never have hurt you, it was too late when I realized you-” his head hung in shame, “You were already on the ground when I figured out it was you.”

He was silent for a while and you thought it was him re-living the moment you had been flung so strongly. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I would never hurt you like that. Ever. I promise. You’re the only good thing I have in my life. I can’t lose you and it shouldn’t have happened, I should have realized I was just so pissed off. And I thought you were in class. I never thought you’d be there. But it will never happen again.” 

“Michael…” You sighed, you’d heard that before. 

But he cut you off. “No, I’m serious. It won’t. I….I hated seeing you hurt like that. Especially because it was my fault. I know I’m violent but you’ll never experience that again. You’ll never see that again. I’ll never hurt you again so…please…I’m sorry.”

He was so rarely vulnerable with his words, let alone speaking so much. It was obvious he meant it. You took in his apology and his words. You didn’t say it was okay but you didn’t move away or reject his apology either. 

“You won’t lose me.” When his guilty eyes bore into yours, you took his bruised hand. “I know you didn’t meant to, Mikey, you’re not that type of guy and you’ve never been violent towards me. But I get so worried seeing you fight and get hurt, you didn’t even realize it was me because you were so mad. It’s seeing you in a light that I don’t like.”

His words were soft-spoken and gentle, his rough hands encasing your smaller ones almost as if they were glass, like the most precious thing he had. “I know. I’m working on it.” Both of you knew he was. If just to keep you happy. His fights are fewer and farther between but when they do happen, they’re never any less bloody. 

Michael’s eyes trailed down to your arm and your dress, marred with stripes of gravel and dirt. Your scraped knees. Your eyes puffy from crying. Even hurt you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. He almost wanted to pull away, he had no right to be touching you, to still be the object of your love. Not when someone as sweet, innocent and peaceful as you was with someone as wrong as him. You deserved someone that brought only smiles out of you. Fuck. He cherished you. And he was disgusted at what he did; would always be, the memory would haunt him for a long time. 

He almost looked in pain as he forced himself to keep looking at what he had done to you. “Does it still hurt?”

You almost didn’t want to answer, for his sake but still you nodded. “I have to change clothes, too.”

“You look so pretty.” It made it worse, how much you more you deserved. “You deserve better.”

Your eyes were confident with your next words, “You’re going to give me that.” He had to. Otherwise, you didn’t think anything you imagined your future would be was going to stay the same. 

And he would. For you.

It didn’t mean he would be perfect or that his tendencies would change. You’d always catch him in fights or in some kind of trouble. But he would be in his right mind, he’d stop before he went too far. And most importantly, he’d never hurt you like he did today. It wouldn’t be hard. When you changed his life so much, he wasn’t in that state of mind he was when he was so angry and violent before he met you. 

Michael started that new resolution to change by peppering you with kisses, grateful he still could, not stopping until you began giggling and pawing at him to stop. You were still kind of mad and hesitant after all, but it was hard to fight back against his sweeter side giving you more of an apology. He was careful to ghost his fingertips over your injuries so as not to hurt you as he took you in his arms like his life depended on you being with him. 

“I love you.” His gravelly voice murmured, “So much.” You were everything to him. What he cherished the most in his life, who he would always need at his side. The last person he wanted to hurt. He was so lucky you were such a good, forgiving person that believed in him. Trusted him. Loved him.

“I know. I love you too.”

You and your love were the what that brought his happiness and goodness into his life. Without you, he would be so much worse than he seemed to be right then. You were the reason he could imagine a normal future for himself, one with a family and a home. The reason he was so much happier recently, why he hadn’t been in a fight in months before this last one. 

He’d never hurt you again. You’d only ever feel good feelings arisen by him, like it always should have been.

Your voice was almost shy but your words were very much willing to take advantage of his guilty mind. “Can we have a spa night? I think it might help my wounds.”

Michael, your big, mature, manly, would-never-have-a-spa-night boyfriend looked at you, knowing very well the healing properties a spa routine could have on your injuries was bullshit. But still he nodded. He’d do anything for you. 

Anything to make it up to you. To take away that hesitancy and sadness in your eyes, to try as he might to erase his huge mistake and replace that scary image of him and know that he was nothing like that with you. Anything to have the rest of the day bring you nothing but peace and happy memories with him, what you had always felt in your life that changed when you met your explosive boyfriend. Having you in his arms for the rest of the night, forgetting the cuts on both of your persons for the night. 

“With face masks?”

“…Fine”

You smiled sheepishly, “….And can we watch Legally Blonde?”

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

#5sos #Michael clifford #Michael clifford x reader #5sos fluff #Michael clifford fluff #5sos imagines #bad boy fluff #bad boy michael #Michael clifford angst #5sos angst #bad boy angst #college au

[thecousinsdangereux]

the land of race car ya yas

A short little ficlet for @corvophobia who has drawn a bunch of art for the bees racer au of my dreams. This is ALL based on her drawings, so make sure you check out her stuff. Happy birthday, Amber! You are one of my two favorite British children. <3

(Please note that I know nothing about street racing. I've only watched the Fast and the Furious movies. Forgive me....)

--

“How’d you do that?”

Blake’s used to the question or some version of it, and maybe that’s why she takes in the words before she notices the tone, imagines a scowl (a lowered brow, hands curled into fists, the flash of teeth as the scowl turns into a snarl) with the same instinct that has her shoulders tensing. It’s only mid-turn that she realizes the question is laced with wonder rather than anger, but even this awareness doesn’t prepare her for the sight that meets her. It’s a woman, her smile wide and unrestrained by pesky things like self-consciousness or insecurity, and her eyes are nearly glowing in the low light, purple and bright and full of open admiration. Her black leather jacket, classic in cut, has the sleeves rolled up mid-forearm, revealing a prosthetic of black and yellow, and her grey jeans are tight, showing off a body that Blake has to work to avoid following the curves of. Her hair is long, blonde, curling around her shoulders and down her back, artful in its disorder, down to the single, stubborn cowlick at the top of her head.

In short, she’s beautiful, and Blake stares for longer than she should, feeling heat in her veins.

“Do what?”

She manages a response, but it’s absent minded. She’s just noticed the light dusting of pink on the woman’s cheeks, coloring the spaces in between her freckles, and it has her re-evaluating, pulling her thoughts to the effort she’s put into her own outfit that evening: a cropped and sleeveless hoodie with blocked colors of white and purple, tight leather shorts, and clunky boots that hit just under the knee. Blake looks good and this woman knows it, which makes them even on this particular front, and that's a settling sort of feeling.

“Win,” the woman says simply, her smile growing. “And don’t just say NOS.”

“NOS,” Blake drawls, just because she can, and she’s rewarded by the woman’s laugh, rewarded even more when she steps closer.

“No, but what’s your delivery method? Direct port, obviously, but you had to have used a custom kit, right? I’ve been telling you, Yang, I need to recalibrate yours. Can I look at your car? Would you mind if I just took a tiny peak just to see what you’ve done with your injection site? We really need to upgrade, Yang. A nozzle with less back pressure will give you a better squeeze. I’ve been telling you!”

She hadn’t noticed the other woman, but blinks at her now, a red blur waving her arms about, hoping from one foot to the other, firing out words faster than Blake — an aficionado of all things fast — can keep up with. The woman (Yang?) seems to find the act familiar and reacts with affection tinged with a false exasperation (put upon for Blake’s benefit or maybe as a means of gentle chiding), sighing and placing a hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder.

“And I’ve been telling you, you can’t just ask people to look at their shit!” She turns to Blake now, and this time her eye roll is definitely for Blake. “Sorry about that, I swear we’re not trying to steal any of your trade secrets. Ruby just… really likes cars.”

“It’s so pretty too,” Ruby coos, batting away Yang’s hand and taking a step towards the vehicle Blake had used to push past Yang at the last moment, a fact neither of these women seem to hold against her. “The purple stripes. But I bet the engine is prettier.”

It’s unprecedented, really. Blake’s been on the scene for a while — longer than she would admit to anyone here — first as a tagalong and now as a driver, but she’s never had an encounter quite like this. The unexpectedness of it all has her feeling off-balance, has her reacting without any of her customary cool anger as Ruby stares at her hood (as though if she focuses hard enough, she’ll be able to see through the metal to the parts underneath). Maybe that’s why Blake responds in a way that’s decidedly unwise, without any further thought at all.

“You can take a look. I don’t mind.”

“Really?” Ruby squeals, but doesn’t wait for Blake to confirm, darting around her and flipping open the hood in the span of three seconds.

“Really?” Yang asks, and the word sounds wildly different coming from her, sliding out from behind her crooked lips like thanks or maybe a challenge (or maybe both). “Not worried about my mechanic figuring you out before the next race?”

Blake should be, of course. But.

“Can’t say I am.”

“Maybe not the smartest move.” Yang crosses her arms; the chrome of her right glints under one of the flickering street lights. For the first time, she looks away from Blake’s gaze, eyes darting over to check on Ruby (who’s leaning so far into the front of Blake’s car that her feet nearly lift off the ground) and then to another group of drivers, a good distance behind them, but clearly watching in curiosity. It’s never wise to gather after a race, but everyone always does when it goes well, and for the first time, Blake’s glad for it. “She’s pretty vicious about giving me an edge. I wish I could say it was familial loyalty, but really, she just wants to make the fastest car in the city.” Yang pauses, tilting her head in thought. “Or country. Or world. Not sure when she’ll be satisfied, to be honest.”

“Sisters?” Blake asks. She can’t really see the resemblance, but then again, she hasn’t spent as much time looking at the younger of the pair, even though she should probably be less focused on the elder (the one not pouring over her engine. Sun and Ilia were going to kill her).

“Yeah.” Yang probably doesn’t realize how much her smile grows in the confirmation, saturated with pride and love. “Scary brilliant too. Give her five minutes with a car and she’ll take it apart, put it back together, and it’ll run better than it ever has. But all that means she always thinks it’s the car that puts a driver ahead.”

Blake arches a brow. “And you think she’s… wrong?”

“Well, yeah.” Yang’s closer than Blake remembers her being, maybe because her legs are long, her strides somehow longer, and it only takes a step before she’s close enough for Blake to feel the heat radiating off her body. “I know it’s only the driver that puts a driver ahead. That’s why I’m here talking to you instead of looking at your car.” Her lips twitch and she amends her statement quickly. “Part of the reason, at least.”

The other part of her reasoning is made pretty obvious when Yang’s eyes trace up Blake’s form once more. It should probably bother Blake, but it doesn’t, maybe because she’s done the same to Yang during this conversation (more than once). Still, there are things better avoided, and Blake knows this better than anyone. She does her best to get back on track.

“It wasn’t me,” she says (almost blurts), and then feels her neck warm when Yang looks at her quizzically. “Before, you asked how I won. But it wasn’t me, not really. You could have had it if you hadn’t fired your nitrous early. You were impatient.”

It’s too blunt, Blake knows this as soon as the words leave her lips. She’s backtracked too much, retreated into aloofness as she was wont to do, but Yang only laughs, and the sound cracks through Blake’s go-to defense, a corner of her lips curling before she can stop it.

“You’re right. I used to be way worse, back when I started out, but I’m a lot better now. Usually.”

“So what happened today?” It’s the question Yang wants her to ask, of this Blake is sure, but it hardly feels like a chore.

“Ah, bad luck, I guess. I took one look at the driver next to me and all that impatience came rushing back. All I wanted to do was finish the race and meet her properly.” She winks. Combined with the cheesy line, it shouldn’t work as well as it does (but it does). “I’m Yang.”

“Blake.”

They don’t shake hands, and Blake’s glad for it. There’s something buzzing between them, a tingling sensation at the tips of her fingers, the build up right before a lightning strike, and Blake’s not entirely sure what the contact — however brief and friendly — might do to her.

“Next time, maybe I’ll be a little more prepared.” Yang’s eyes roam across her face, settling once more on gold. “But probably not.”

“Immersion therapy,” Blake quips. “Give it time.”

Yang whistles sharply, and it takes Blake a moment to realize that she’s called her sister back over. (Blake had forgotten about her entirely, though the grease on her hands and face leads her to believe that Ruby had done a thorough dive under her hood, the sort Blake ought to be worried about.)

“Time is exactly what I plan on giving it. A lot of time, if you’ll let me.” Yang nudges her sister back in the direction they’d come from. Ruby waves, offers a wide grin of thanks, but Blake’s stuck on purple.

“Well. Let’s see how you do in the next race,” she murmurs.

“Looking forward to it.”

And Blake, who started racing to get away, who started racing to run, who started racing so she never had to stay in one place for long, finds that she is too.

—

“What the hell is your problem?”

Blake’s used to this question too, or some form of it, and this time, the tone is exactly what she expects. The small, white-haired woman in a vest and tie, however, is not.

“Listen, I’m sorry I hurt your boyfriend’s feelings by being a better driver than him, but you’re only embarrassing yourself now.” Blake takes another look at the woman’s attire; her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and — despite the country club hairstyle and the heels — the hint of a tattoo on her pale skin, just under the fabric makes up Blake’s mind for her. “Or… Girlfriend?”

“Not quite,” says a familiar voice.

Today, Yang has decided to show off her abs (and she most certainly does have abs) with a cropped jacket of black and gold checks, and Blake can’t quite bring herself to look beyond that for too long, though she catches the black driving gloves, the oversized and gold sunglasses, the oversized cargo pants. In the seconds it takes for Blake to wind her brain back up, Yang grins, cocksure, and continues.

“Though you were right about the gay thing. I mean, look at her.”

“Look at you,” the other woman sniffs, actually physically turning up her nose. “Could you be any gayer?”

“Yeah, I could be wearing a vest and tie,” Yang fires back, but it’s clear the banter is familiar, it’s obvious these two know each other well enough for their back and forth to not contain any real barbs.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Blake drawls, before she’s able to stop herself, and Yang turns back to her with an arched brow. “Good to see you again, Yang.”

“Oh, is it? Could have fooled me!” The other woman’s ire has been refocused, and it’s seemingly stronger than before, the pitch of her words higher, more dire. “Given you nearly killed her just now.”

“Weiss,” Yang sighs, but Blake winces, feeling the sting of the words despite Yang’s quick glance of reassurance sent her way.

“I didn’t realize you’d pull off when I drifted. I thought you’d… lean in.”

It’s not an excuse. They’d been neck and neck towards the end of the race (again), and when she’d nudged the side of Yang’s car — far gentler than she would against anyone else — she’d assumed the woman would give as good as she got, like most every other racer she’d gone against. But Yang hadn’t taken any chances, and it’d cost her the race.

“We don’t do that here,” the woman — Weiss — says, lips pursed to the point of contortion, but Yang only laughs.

“We do that here all the time. I did way worse to Mercury last week.”

“Yes, but Mercury is a creep.” Weiss pauses, considering. “We only do that to creeps here.”

Blake’s hands lift, a show of peace. “Hey, no one handed me the Beacon Street Racing Etiquette Guide when I joined up the other week. Maybe you could loan me your copy.”

This doesn’t exactly smooth things over with the woman, especially not when Yang snickers, but Weiss can clearly see the writing on the wall, and tosses her hair over her shoulder with a huff.

“Whatever. I’m telling Ruby about this,” she warns Yang (or maybe Blake, or maybe both of them), before stalking away, her last words called over her shoulder. “She’s not going to be happy.”

There’s no concern on Yang’s face as she watches her go, if anything she looks amused. “Sorry about that. She’s… protective.”

“I can see that. I guess that’s what happens when you’ve been friends with someone for a while.” It’s a guess (and a probe), but Yang doesn’t correct any of her phrasing, so it must be close enough to the truth.

“Yeah, but I didn’t mean protective of me.” Yang’s grin shows a flash of white teeth. “Weiss bet on me tonight. You lost her money. And that’s the real sin.”

Blake’s surprised at how easily her laugh comes (more surprised how easily the fondness slips through the cracks in her chest). “Oh, I see. So I can kick your ass up and down the streets as long as I convince her to bet on me in the future? Good to know.”

“I’m not sure that’s the message I want you to be taking from this,” Yang drawls, but still smiles, flicking her glasses up to her forehead. “Besides, like she said, Ruby’s the one to look out for. She seemed all sweet and innocent yesterday, but gods help the person she turns her disapproving stare on. I’ve seen people break into tears on the spot.”

From what Blake had seen yesterday, Ruby isn’t the sort that loses her chipper bounce very easily, so despite Yang’s teasing tone, she files the information away as useful. If she were being a little more self-searching, she might question the action, given her tendency to not stick around in any one place for long. (Surely Beacon isn’t any different. Surely she couldn’t know now if it were.)

“Lucky she missed the race today, then.” Her lips curve, a sharp corner that would require a drift. “What, she couldn’t bear to see you lose again?”

“Oh, ha ha. No, she had class. And she knows there’s no skipping for racing; that’s the only hard and fast rule for our household.” It’s not what she expects, the straight answer backed with genuinity, but it strikes Blake as endearing, somehow, especially when Yang continues. “I started racing here so we could pay for those classes, so I think it’s only fair.”

“That’s — ” Kind. Authentic. Surprising. Blake’s not sure which word to use so she disgards them all. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as the type who was racing for the money. Not that… there’s anything wrong with that. Especially in your case.”

Yang laughs. “Hey, don’t mistake me. I started racing here for the money, but it’s not why I race in general.”

“So why do you?” Blake asks, even though she suspects she knows the answer. (It’s not wise to take your eyes off the road, but she’s done it in both of her races with Yang, eyes darting to the side to find the woman speeding alongside her: eyes wild, grin wide, the fervor of the moment all over her face. There’s freedom there, more than there is anywhere else, and Blake thinks she sees that in Yang as much as she does in herself.)

“Same as you, I think,” Yang murmurs, closer now, sliding in when Blake’s distracted once again.

“I’m not sure you know me well enough to say that.”

A bluff, of course, but it gets the intended result.

“Not yet.” From this close, Yang looks taller, and Blake has to tilt her chin to look into her eyes. “But I’m still looking to fix that.”

Blake wets her lips. It’s too much, and she’s not sure she can tack on ‘too soon’ to quantify the thought, make it less tame. If she had to guess, Yang will always be too much, like sunlight after coming out of a room. Blake’s not sure she’ll ever adjust to the rays, or if she wants to.

“Let’s see how you do in the next race,” she says again, and Yang laughs again, totally unabashed.

“Okay, I’m sensing a trend here. What, you’re not going to let me take you out unless I win a race again you?”

“If I say ‘yes’, what are you going to do?”

It’s not cockiness that overtakes Yang’s face then, not exactly. It’s confidence or want or determination or maybe just the flush that comes from the thrill of a challenge. Blake’s setting herself up for something here, she knows, failure or disappointment or something like it, but right then, she doesn’t care. There’s a freedom in this sort of race too, and that she’s come to love.

“Oh, that’s easy, Blake.” Yang leans in a little more, and Blake knows it’s audible, the way her breath is cut short. “I’m going to win.”

#bumbleby #writing #rwby #bees racer au #for #corvophobia #<33333 #just a little something for a birthday treat

[zevexsii]

norton campbell  sfw + nsfw hcs (gn s/o)

holy shit i love norton campbell  

cut for length! 

norton’s a very complicated guy. he’s seen some shit, done some shit, and quite frankly hates most of the world around him. not because he actually thinks it’s bad- he just pushes away everything and everyone he cares about as a defense mechanism. 

he wouldn’t necessarily realize that he was developing feelings for his s/o right off the bat- he’d get closer and closer to them without actually thinking about the butterflies that your smile gave him or the protective urges that enveloped most of his critical thinking skills during matches. 

it really depends on how easily you open up to him. especially if you’re emotionally available early on. i doubt he would entirely open up to you about the mining incident, or even about the root of any of his problems, but if you were there on norton’s bad days to calm him down or let him vent, he’ll fall head over heels for you even quicker. 

not particularly talkative. norton doesn’t really know how to keep a conversation going and deflect too-personal questions at the same time, so most days he just enjoys sitting with you. 

right before The ConfessionTM, norton begins to isolate himself more than usual. he does his best to avoid you at mealtimes, will ditch matches that you’re both playing in, paying no mind to the consequences. it’s hard for him to even look at you without losing his composure- either spacing out and making heart eyes in your direction or having graphic thoughts of your death at his hands. it would be accidental, of course. he’d lash out and hurt you; make a mistake in a match and leave you bloody. 

if you seek him out, it might make it worse; he’ll probably snap at you, but he can’t hold up his apathetic front for long. he breaks down as you turn to leave, grabbing for your hand or your wrist. he hangs his head and asks you not to go in a low, hoarse whisper. he’s sniffling. 

this is the first time norton would seek out physical comfort from you. his movements are shaky and apprehensive as he tugs you closer to him- depending on where you managed to corner him, norton’ll ask to sit down and be held by way of burying his face in the crook of your neck. he’s terrified you’re going to pull away the entire time.

indulge him. gently card your fingers through his messy, dark hair or rub gentle circles onto his back and he might cry. poor guy’s repressed to hell and back. 

norton’s feelings for you are quite obvious at this point, but he needs to make sure to let you know, just in case. when he says that he’s in love with you, he’s breathless and the words are harried. if he’s able to look at you at all, his brown eyes are anxious and searching- begging for an answer, even if it’s one that would destroy him completely. he doesn’t really expect you to reciprocate his affections- he’s high maintenance at the very least in his own eyes. 

when you tell him that you love him too, norton is awestruck. he has to verify that he heard you correctly- tell him again and he lets out a watery chuckle proceeded by a shit-eating grin. 

hold onto him a little while longer. he needs it. 

now that norton’s confessed and you’re officially together, his behavior towards you in public doesn’t change too much- in lobbies before matches or mealtimes he lingers by you, keeping up a low conversation about mundane things. he’s unsurprisingly uninterested in pda, except for special occasions. 

in private, there are a lot of casual, domestic touches. norton’s inclined to come up and wrap his arms around you from behind, or rest a hand on the small of your back as you’re working away at a task. 

adores forehead/cheek kisses. the simple things make him soft beyond belief. deep, passionate kisses are usually reserved for when things are getting hot n’ heavy, plus they trigger norton’s claustrophobia very easily. norton normally despises any sort of attention drawn to his scars- they’re a massive insecurity of his, not to mention the horrible reminder of his past that they bring up, but if you give him small smooches on his upper cheek, or the border between scarred flesh and his normal tan, he’ll melt. 

can cook surprisingly well! norton’s been alone for the great majority of his life- not to mention he lived with a bunch of bachelors, so he knows the basics. however, anything you make will be devoured within seconds. really enjoys sweets!! uses excess frosting on your lips or cheek as an excuse to kiss you <33

is a pretty big eater!! norton’s a beefy guy and he tells you that he’s gotta keep himself strong in order to protect you <3 he’s also got a phat ass

norton’s a bit clueless when it comes to asking for cuddles; he’ll just sort of drape himself over you or mumble about being tired, hoping you’ll take the hint. on bad days, he doesn’t even want to get out of bed. everything’s just too much, he hopes you’ll understand. 

let norton rest his head in your lap or hide his face in your shoulder. sometimes it’s humiliating for him to let you see him like this- hold him close and gently play with his hair or intertwine your fingers in his. actions like that help ground norton. 

coo soft things in his ears. tell him you love him, that it isn’t his fault. that you’ll stay with him no matter what. these reassurances in particular help combat his overwhelming abandonment issues. 

on regular days, norton’s favorite cuddle positions are probably those that involve you laying your head on his broad chest, or him holding you from behind. 

very outdoorsy! go on walks with him and he’ll point out interesting rocks and the two of you will pocket geodes to take home and crack open. offer norton small things that you found on the way home, or gems that you pilfered from the golden cave map. it may not seem like a lot, but realizing that you care enough about norton to remember the small things that he enjoys makes him feel endlessly loved. 

i can’t stress enough how much norton appreciates domesticity. dude’s had a rough life, at this point he just wants to settle down in a stable place with someone who loves him, hopefully with a few kids, if his s/o is up for that!

nsfw 

norton is practically a connoisseur of intense, rough sex. as mentioned above, he’s got a lot of repressed shit to deal with and most of his more ‘vulnerable’ emotions are turned into anger. unhealthy coping mechanisms go brrrrr. 

needless to say, it’s best to use a safeword with norton. 

that’s not to say he doesn’t enjoy slow, passionate stuff- most days he’s perfectly happy to bury himself inside you however you need. 

during slow, soft sex, norton prefers to be ridden. it allows him to sit back and revel in the pleasure of being fucked by his lovely, lovely s/o. 

his fear of abandonment also comes into play during sex. he’ll get you begging for his cock, whimpering uncontrollably about how badly you need him inside of you. deep down, norton yearns to be needed by someone. 

not the most vocal partner, but lets loose a plethora of gasps and grunts once he’s got your tight hole stretched around him- most dirty talk consists of half-formed, growled curses that go straight south. 

always preps you with oral. he doesn’t care how ready you are for his dick, he needs to finish you off with his mouth first. norton’s definition of finishing you off consists of bruising and biting all over your hips and upper thighs before moving on to rub a calloused finger over your clit or give light strokes to your cock, paying special attention to the vein running along the underside. by the time he’s done, you’ll have cum at least twice and that’s if norton’s rushing it. 

unsurprisingly addicted to marking you. nothing riles norton up more than watching you interact with the other survivors while they frantically try to ignore the bruises and hickeys that have crawled up your neck and right under your jawline. if said survivor glances to norton afterward, he’ll toss a sleazy smirk in their direction. you’re fucking him and everyone knows it. 

not really a fan of missionary. norton’s partial to fucking you from behind and leaving small scratches and bruises from how tightly his massive hands grabbed your hips. 

he’s a thigh and an ass guy. ‘nuff said. he doesn’t have anything against boobs, though!

won’t introduce choking or restraining you- norton wants to revel in every little twitch and movement you make while he shoves himself between your thighs. of course if you ask for either of those things, norton will indulge you. choking would probably do well with his size kink. 

definitely has a breeding kink. all he wants is to completely fill you up with his seed- he’ll go as many rounds as he can, desperate to stuff you full of his cum. he’ll degrade you while he does this- calling you his little whore, going on and on about how desperate you are for his cum. 

a fair bit into overstimulation. it feeds norton’s sorely battered pride that no one else can see you like this- flushed and nearly in tears, letting out strangled mewls of pleasure while his cock slams against your prostate/g-spot. don’t even think about hiding your face in a pillow, either. the noises and expressions you make are part of how norton is assured he’s doing a good job- he also thinks you’re damn beautiful, all unraveled for him like this. 

as stated above, norton prefers to cum inside of you, but if you’re not up for that he’ll pull out and cum on your ass or in his hand. 

pulls your hair quite a bit- he’s pulled strands out in the past and apologizes like hell afterward. it’s not his intention to hurt you. 

aftercare!! soft. norton’ll offer to wash your hair and wash your back- his hands are strong and more often than not, he ends up massaging your shoulders. wash his hair and he’s in heaven. lots of mildly soapy forehead kisses and whispered “i love you”s as the two of you crawl into bed, your head tucked under norton’s. 

#norton campbell x reader #norton campbell idv #prospector #idv x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader headcanons #prospector x reader #idv prospector #norton campbell #norton campbell x reader headcanons #identity v x reader headcanons #idv smut #identity v smut #norton campbell smut #i'm a bit unsatisfied with this but i can always post more #identity v prospector #norton simp hours

[buckyownsmylife]

daddy issues - chapter viii

The one where Ransom doesn’t feel ready to become a father, but he should have thought about it before sleeping with a complete stranger.

When Ransom’s latest one night stand lets him know that he’s going to become a father, he finds himself looking for the qualities he never believed to have so he can become the parent he never got to witness as a child.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. 

“Hey, are you busy?” I huffed as I heard Ransom’s voice, especially the concerned tone he was using. It’s not like I didn’t believe he actually wanted to have a serious conversation with me, but more as in I did not want to have that conversation right now, not when I could still remember the night we *almost shared oh-so-well.

“Yes, can’t talk right now.” And that’s all I said before I hung up on him, knowing I was being impolite, but honestly too busy to care. Classes had started and considering next term I probably wouldn’t be here to take care of my usual courses, I had to leave somewhat of a very structured syllabus behind for who was supposed to sub for me.

Days went by where it was pretty much the same. Ransom would call me, I’d give him an excuse to hang up, and then I’d throw myself into work, still adamant on ignoring the fact that a whole human was growing inside of me. I had to schedule a doctor’s appointment, I knew that, but the thought of going there alone and the reality of the situation suddenly hitting me was just too much.

I should have known it was only a matter of time until Ransom grew tired of my efforts to dodge his calls, though.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my mouth hanging open as he walked into my office. When I heard the knocks, I expected it was another student who still hadn’t figured out my office hours yet, so to see him in my work environment was particularly shocking.

The man in question just shrugged, like it was absolutely no big deal that he was in the same environment where I usually planned my courses. “You didn’t answer your phone. I need to talk to you.”

“You can’t keep showing up in random places that you know I’ll be in! First my house, now my workplace…” He actually flinched at my complaint, for the first time since I met him seeming genuinely aware of his mistake.

“I know. I’m sorry. I really needed to talk to you and you wouldn’t answer your phone. I figured coming here would be less invasive than just showing up at your apartment again.” The fact that he actually put thought behind this and considered my feelings about it actually disarmed me.

He was right, this was less invasive than having in my home, considering I did not plan on seeing him at all. This was my work environment, somewhere I always felt empowered in, and not the place where I walked around in pajamas and would hide at when I was in my most vulnerable state.

“Are you gonna throw me out?” He asked me, vulnerability written all over his expression, and I was thrown off whatever wagon I had intended to ride the next time I met with Ransom again.

“No.” The word sounded tired even to my own ears, and that’s because I was. I was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of being aggressive and dismissive towards someone I knew I would have to eventually work with. I pointed the chair in front of me for him to sit, chuckling to myself as I rubbed my eyes when I realized the perfect irony of this situation. He was the one in my office now.

For a few seconds, we just stared at each other. I was waiting for him to talk - he was the one who seemed so desperate to talk to me, anyway - but it seemed like he needed the time to gather his courage.

Once he started, though… It was clear that he’d been mulling this over for a long time.

“I know you barely know me, and the stuff you do know has probably introduced you to the worst possible version of me… I can’t even say that’s not true. For a long time, that was all I was and all I wanted to be.” He took a minute to breathe, and I patiently waited for him to continue. If anything, it was obvious he was speaking from the heart, and I wanted him to know that I highly appreciated him lowering his defenses for a while to actually let me see who he really was.

“Still, as the man you think I am, I ask for you to give me a chance. Please, listen to me. Don’t do this. Don’t lock me out, don’t keep me away from you and this pregnancy. I can do better. I can *be better. Maybe this kid is exactly what I needed to get my act together. I was able to fix my work behavior, it was my personal life that missed… something to work towards.”

My hand had fallen over my belly, protectively shielding my child from what I’d briefly considered he’d present as a lab experiment for his own self-improvement, but then I understood. I’d seen this before on my research about him - his actions weren’t completely careless and egoistic, they were his response to the internal anguish he had lived through, of not having anything to aspire towards.

“And I really want to be around for this. I want to be around for you. I don’t want my only participation to be… sperm donor.” And there, for the first time since we met, Ransom Drysdale made me laugh with his defense mechanism of joking around emotional moments. 

It seemed like my laughter eased some of the tension in the room, and he even smiled as he continued, “I can’t promise I’ll do a good job. I have absolutely no idea what I’m supposed to do, but I will try my very best - and that’s more than I’ve been willing to do my entire life. I want to be better, for our child and for you. Because you deserve that. You deserve someone to help you go through this too.”

Try as I might, I could not stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks by the end of his speech. I’d blame the pregnancy, even though I knew that was only half of it. The relief was just… indescribable. This is exactly what I’d prayed to have when I found out I was pregnant to a man I barely knew.

And so I reached out for his hand, wanting him to know just how much I meant what I was about to say. “Listen, I screwed up too. I let gossip get the best of me. The truth is, I’m scared of relying on someone and then having to figure it all out by myself, once again. So I need us to start small, okay? Maybe if we build this friendship on a foundation that’s different from the pregnancy, I can start to trust you with it, too.”

He nodded understandingly, lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but I beat him to it. “Would you like to meet me at the bar tonight? Ana has been bugging me to go and I promised I’d accompany her there tonight. I think it’s more your scene than a night in with chocolate and movies.”

His mouth closed at that, and he laughed, eyes crinkling with humor as he nodded at my words. “You are right. That does sound good to me.” We stayed like that for a while, just relishing in each other’s presence. “So, meet you there?” He asked, and I could see there were still some underlying trust issues there. I did spend the last week avoiding him, though.

So I squeezed his hand before confirming, “Meet you there tonight.”

#my series #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale angst #angst #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale reader #ransom drysdale reader insert #ransom drysdale reader inserts #ransom drysdale fanfiction

[tg-headcanons]

Touka Was Done So Dirty So I Must Analyze It

I have a lot to say about how poorly Tokyo Ghoul turned out. There was so much wasted potential, so much meaningless angst, so many straight relationships crammed where they didn’t need to be, and so many sudden, anticlimactic plot points. But of all of the mishandling and poor choices, I think that Touka’s treatment is the worst.

Touka was a complex and interesting character. She was raised by loving parents, one of whom died early, the other lived a little longer while doing everything he could to impart lessons to keep her and her brother alive. When he died she was suddenly forced to become her brother’s guardian and rush out into a world that is so much less forgiving than her father was. They got taken in by her uncle and his friends, housed and fed, and she even got the opportunity to pursue an education which is a monumental luxury to ghouls. Despite resenting humans for the way her family was massacred and she is forced to live, she became close to a human, looking past her trauma for a friendship she cherishes. Her brother reacted badly to the idea of her being around such a dangerous person who could have them killed like their parents were, and ran off to join Aogiri, leaving her and her uncle as the last remnants of their family.

Touka is angry, and id say rightfully so. Her parents murder, being forced to grow up far too fast, being forced to live in this war she was drafted into at birth, any one thing would be enough to fuck someone up. She has all that going on, so understandable, she’s going to be pissed at the world. If it ended there it would be perfect, a great starting point for a character to delve deep into the concepts of society shaping identity, but then the worst happened

Touka is an archetype I like to call ”Angry Teen Girl”

Before we talk about the archetype, let’s talk about teen girls in real life, specifically how they’re treated by society. The teen girl in the public eye is simultaneously the epitome of beauty who is seductive and manipulative and lustful, as well as airheaded and shallow and naive and pure. The way that changes has to do with the convenience of the adult male onlooker. She’s A tactical mastermind when she doesn’t want to fuck you and she’s an airhead when she has opinions. She’s a prude when she doesn’t respond to advances and a whore when she wears a t-shirt. Most importantly, she’s a silly stupid baby when she demands independence and respect, and a grown woman who should know better when she acts her age

Teen girls don’t have the same understanding that boys their age do. When a teen boy messes up its “oh he’s 15 he’s still learning.” When a teen girl messes up its “shes 15 shes practically an adult she should know better by now.” Because adult men have decided the teen girl is desirable, she’s forced to grow up faster to save them the shame of acknowledging that she is a literal child. And after being treated like stupid children and sexy mature adults, teen girls are rightfully angry. This is so universal, so all encompassing, that almost every teen girl has this undercurrent of anger and grief at how they’d been socialized. Because of that, it too is brushed off as “stupid teen girls and their silly little feelings.”

This is where the Angry Teen Girl trope comes in. There is so much history behind women’s treatment, so many valid reasons for a teenage girl to be pissed, but this character is almost always played off as a joke. Either a joke or something to fix.

Back to Touka, let’s run through this again, this time through her eyes. Her family was perfect until it was taken violently away, she had to become violent against her dead fathers wishes to protect her little brother, that little brother who she was forced to sacrifice her bloodless life for left her for having a single friend, she lived her whole life knowing that no matter who she is or what she does the world hates her and she’s going to be murdered by the state. She has to deal with all of this, and then she meets Kaneki, who tells her to her face that he’s better than her because he was human, not realizing that not eating people is a privilege from birth that she never had. Touka is angry, and Touka is a child. A traumatized child who isn’t in the right for her violent reaction, but isn’t an adult with a peaceful world who knows better

Now if people just hated her for that then fine, but there is a huge overlap of the people who hate Touka for her aggressive personality, and people who love ayato. For every “she’s a bitch who’s so mean and super violent and shouldn’t be killing investigators when she doesn’t need to and deserves getting hurt” there’s a “he’s a sweet boy who’s trying his best and he killed all those people because he’s traumatized.” More and more, it’s clear that the same sympathy given to ayato, the much more violent and aggressive sibling, is not given to his sister. Right off the bat, she’s easy for many to dismiss because the misogynistic tropes that made her are fully reinforced

She is established as a complex person who simultaneously resents humanity for how ghouls are treated and doesn’t want them dead. She’s aggressive to her loved ones as a way to protect them and kills investigators so they don’t have the chance to threaten them. She’s angry because of how she spent her whole life just barely avoiding death at the hands of a genocidal government, she’s angry that she has to live this way, she’s even angry that she had to become violent at all and couldn’t live the peaceful life she could have had

But because she is an Angry Teen Girl, nothing matters except “But She’s such a bitch”

Now Touka at this point is still a great character, but things go south fast. The focus shifts from the world and complex relationships to Kaneki. Out of nowhere, Touka is pining after him. Out of nowhere, she has feelings for him. It was more convenient to just Insert Romance instead of developing them. Even if it stopped here Touka would still be a great character, but it didn’t.

After she fled anteiku, her character died. Not only was she completely cast aside during Ken’s Plot Convenience And Honestly Lazy Amnesia arc, but everything behind her character was stripped to its bare bones

You see, the Angry Teen Girl is only a teen for so long, and she can become one of two things: Hysterical sad evil woman or Calm Momwife. It’s a problem a lot of male authors have of only seeing a woman’s anger as a character flaw. In order to keep her as a hero, her anger needs to be “fixed,” and even that isn’t done well.

Suddenly, her drive is gone. Her love of Yoriko is completely abandoned, as is her reason to care for average humans. Her ambitions of collage and success are cast aside. Her complicated feeling towards her brother become “oh I get it it’s all cool I love him and just want him safe no hard feelings haha.” By the time we see her in Re:, she is no longer Touka. She is just the Momwife personality she got crammed into because Ishida just couldn’t think of a use for this previously complex character than “Wife And Mom.”

I’m not saying that she should have stayed angry and aggressive, but she should have stayed consistent, she should have changed over time and for coherent reasons. Such pivotal parts of her character are unceremoniously thrown out, we don’t even get a good explanation for why she turned out that way. Yes, she could rebuild her family with her brother, but it should have been built up to. Yes, she could leave Yoriko behind, but it should have any reason for it at all. Hell, I’m a die hard Hidekane fan, but I’d say she could have had a great romance with Kaneki if it didn’t come out of nowhere

She was “calmed” by having her dreams stripped from her after losing anteiku. She was given her “happy ending” by getting knocked up from desperate and uncomfortable pity sex. She was a girl who wanted to go to collage and protect her loved ones, she had queer undertones of being in love with her human fried, she had reasonable aggression as a self defense mechanism. Any one of these things could spring into an arc of their own.

But all that was thrown out in favor of being the most convenient straight love interest for Kaneki, though her personality was so incompatible with him that it had to be stripped bare to even pretend it works

If she had been given the same treatment as her brother and had her anger treated as a byproduct of the way she’s forced to survive rather than a self caused character flaw, she could have been perfect. If she’d been kept in the focus and not shoved aside for so much of Re:, she would have been good. If any part of her character at all stayed in tact, she would have been fine. But instead she’s reduced to either a Bitchy Child or Momwife. She was so interesting, and I wish her character didn’t get gutted for the sake of her male family and rushed love interest

#tokyo ghoul #rant #touka kirishima #ayato kirishima #tokyo ghoul meta #tokyo ghoul criticism