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#to know them to the point of caring for them?
sabertoothwalrus · 2 days
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I'm going to think out loud about the dungeon meshi ages for a sec
I'm going to preface this by saying that this is based on my existing knowledge, and fact checking is difficult because there is A LOT of contentious research out there.
First of all, I think a lot of people come at this from a modern lens, forgetting the context that this is fantasy medieval era. this is fiction. on top of that, this is specifically Ryoko Kui's understanding of medieval era aging. plus fantasy. So before anyone comes at me with a bunch of 'ermmmm actualy's just consider that I don't really care and also it might not matter in this context lol
as far as the "age of maturity" assigned for each race, something I don't see many people talk about is that "teenagers" are a fairly recent concept. For a long time, you were either considered A Kid or Not A Kid. but this doesn't necessarily mean kids were more/less developed then, just our cultural expectations for certain age groups have changed.
Laios says the age of maturity for tallmen is 16. I don't think that means 16 year olds in the dungeon meshi universe are necessarily "more mature" than modern 16 year olds, but moreso that they have more responsibilities. However, things like medicine, smoking, drinking, sun exposure, physical activity, etc all affect age, so it's possible that developmentally they're closer to modern 18 year olds? Izutsumi is 17 (less than two weeks from turning 18, actually), and very much acts like a modern 17 year old.
The age of maturity for half-foots is 14. Chilchuck was 13 when he got married and had his first two children. Even though, at age 29, he's the equivalent of a modern 50 year old, I don't think he was That much more developed at 13 than a tallman. I think if half-foot 14 is equal to tallman 16, then Chilchuck was Pretty Damn Young for a parent LMAO. Even if you're generous and say tallman 16 is a modern 18, he still would've been younger than that.
The long-lived races are interesting. Marcille is obviously a unique case, and not a lot of this applies to her. We do know what Senshi was like as a minor (miner, lol), and he seemed like a modern 15ish, considering he was 36 and dwarf maturity is 40. I think it'd be really interesting to delve into how a culture functions with people being developmentally adolescent for soooooo long. Imagine middle school lasting 20 years. that would fucking suck. I suppose it makes sense why long-lived races are so patronizing.
Moving onto lifespans, I want to emphasize that they're average lifespans. Even in the manga, they say some half-foots live to 100, it's just rare. So it's less that a tallman 60 year old is "older" than a modern 60 year old, it's that it's easier to keep people alive for longer nowadays. Modern medicine is a BIG contributor. Dental health as well, considering how much your health is affected by your diet (and how much the action of chewing alone aids in digestion). Curious to know what the FUCK elven dentistry is like.
It also makes me wonder if half-foots would have a longer average lifespan if they weren't like, used for bait and treated so poorly, but half-foot 29 does seem to be middle-aged for half-foots. so who knows!
In that vein, I don't know if I can see Mithrun quite making it to 400 😬 like, his experience as a dungeon lord took a lot out of him quite literally, and he's doing exceptionally well despite it! I imagine he'd eventually start to develop a lot of heart problems if he doesn't have them already. Perhaps early-onset dementia. His memory seems still quite intact (he corrects Kabru on his story's accuracy) and he doesn't act like, lobotomized. He doesn't seem forgetful or confused, and he has a sense of humor/sarcasm still. It's mostly his task initiation that's been affected.
I almost want to say that mana affinity could affect long-lived races' lifespans, except dwarves have very poor tolerance for mana, so it's probably not that.
okay anyway I didn't really have a point to this post so I'm just gonna end my rambling here
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hai7ani · 3 days
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familiar / haitani rindou
Haitani Rindou turns 32, gets married, and he silently wonders why people are so nice to him now.
the old retired ladies promoting milk powders and selling fresh fruits in the grocery store rushes up to him at any chance they get. one time when browsing for milk formulas one of them had tapped him on the shoulder, pointed at a brand she was not promoting for but thought was amazing when her own grandchild had tried it, and then placed a bunch of other stuff in his cart that she thinks his wife would need. an example would be containers of freshly cut mixed fruits that her colleague had just prepared. you remember him telling you that her tone was a lot more different than the average grocery store promoter trying to sell you a product ー it was almost as if she was talking to her own son.
when shopping for flowers just like he does every Sunday suddenly the part-timer who is usually silent, does her job and only responds to customers' needs had stepped up to him and pointed out a few selections that she believes are lovely for expecting parents. she was even smiling when doing so. and you remember he came home to you that day with two bouquets of fresh flowers ー chrysanthemum and baby's breath ー one in each hand.
today when taking you out for dinner in the local family-owned restaurant the daughter had served you a warm bowl of beef bone soup. neither of you had ordered it for yourselves, and you were about to tell her that, but her mother speaks before you can. "drink it, love. the soup is good for you." she yells a little from where she sits at the cashier with a grin. when Rindou stands to pay after finishing up her husband then refuses to take your bill for the night. "it's okay, son. dinner's on the house this time." he pats his shoulder and pushes you both out the door. "take care, you two. the next time you come i'll cook tofu for you, alright?" it was directed to you and you'd laughed, a little embarrassed but feeling warm and fuzzy nonetheless.
and now you are listening to your own husband ramble on and on about his new mysteries while he massages your feet on the couch.
"i seriously don't get it. i've been going to these places for years now and they were never this nice to us. i mean, they are nice, but never this nice, you know? it's the first time we've ever gotten a free meal from Kobayashi's."
we. us.
you brush his hair back, admiring the light wrinkles that have started to form on his skin. "that's exactly it, don't you think?" you bring it up and he hums in confusion.
"perhaps the reason why they've been so nice lately is exactly because you've been going to these places for years now. they know you."
"huh?"
"if you think about it, they've watched you go from an ordinary man to a husband, then a father. watched you bring a girl they've never seen before to these places more often and suddenly we go together all the time, you have a ring on your finger and i am pregnant. perhaps it is why. a sense of familiarity, maybe?"
Rindou looks at you as if you are love and warmth and everything pink and red and blue and purple and-
you are right, actually. you'd went from a girl he met at a bar to becoming the love of his life, the woman who is now carrying the love you both share. and the ladies at the grocery store, the Kobayashi's, the part timer who's been around even after graduating university years ago? they've all watched him grow.
when Rindou was 17 and had gotten ambushed by a rival gang alone, it was madam Kobayashi who'd ushered him into their store way past the last call and offered to cook him a nice meal, had her medical student son patch him up, her husband to chase away the remaining guys who were waiting for Rindou to come back out. her daughter had been about Rindou's age then, hiding behind the cashier and watching as he ate in silence with a cut to his lip, another on his eyebrow. (to this day still no one except for you, her, and him, knows that the reason he'd gotten ambushed that day was because he'd stood up for miss Kobayashi when she was getting bullied by one of the delinquents. she still thanks him for what he'd done whenever you both finish up your meal and get ready to leave.) Rindou was 17 when he'd first discovered what it was like to care for people; to be a human before anything else.
the two ladies from the grocery store wasn't yet retired and working this job back then. the promoter lady used to be the janitor who was working in the office building of his first job. she'd watched him gone through periods of unknowing, confusion, stress, to become a solid man of status today. the lady who is selling fruits used to work as a professional tutor and had been the one to tutor Rindou and his brother on Mathematics. although she is mute and can't respond in words when her students have confusing questions to ask, the brothers still thought of her as a good teacher because of the way she taught, which is why they'd stuck around and refused to switch teachers despite their parents' disapproval. because she is mute, she can only count on her colleague to dump containers of freshly cut fruits into his cart while motioning for her to tell him things that she actually wants to say to him whenever he visits the store.
the part timer at the florist is a lot younger than he is, but she have been working there for a very long time. watched him when he was still an inexperienced bachelor pacing around the store wondering which flower would be good on a first date to buying the same flowers every Sunday because you'd liked the lilies that she recommended.
it'd be heartwarming for anyone to see the boy you watch grow around love, into love, finding love, to marrying her and becoming a father.
"...yeah. maybe."
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moonstruckme · 3 days
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Hey queen what about a lil fic of reader with one of the boys (u can pick whoever!!) where it's her first healthy relationship and May be she thanks them for being nice and he's just like ummm I don't wanna be mean to u
Thanks for requesting lovely!
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You have a habit of complaining into the void. It’s not the first text you send James griping about your day at work and it likely won’t be the last, but you’re surprised when the result is him turning up at your desk with flowers and a coffee. 
“James,” you say dumbly, looking up in absolute astoundment as he sets the flowers carefully by your keyboard and bends down for a kiss. 
“Hi, angel.” James presses the coffee into your hand. Spots the empty desk next to yours and, with a quick glance around, steals the chair, sitting beside you. “Are you still on your lunch break?” 
“I—yeah.” Your brain can’t quite make sense of him at your work. It’s like being a kid and seeing your teacher at the store. James, with his casual clothes and easy smile, doesn’t belong in this place. “I’ve got twenty minutes left. What are you doing here?” 
“You seemed like you were having a rough morning,” he says simply. “I thought I might see if I could come and make you feel a bit better—don’t worry, I brought supplies.” 
He shrugs out of one strap of his backpack, swinging it around onto his lap and pulling out a small vase. James seems too distracted to have noticed your stupefaction. 
“Do you have a sink around here?” 
You point him towards the break room and he hurries off, returning a minute later to arrange your flowers in the vase. 
“I know it might be silly,” he says, as he works with a care that belies his words, “but I was thinking that if I was stuck in one place all day, it might help me to have something nice to look at. I considered getting you a mirror, but I thought you may have grown used to that particular sight so I ought to mix it up.”
James glances up to catch your reaction to the last bit, dimples appearing when you fluster. As he sits back down, his gaze roams your workspace, largely empty as most of your coworkers have gone to lunch. He swivels the chair from side to side absentmindedly, his knees brushing yours with each pass. It feels like someone striking a match. 
“I didn’t know you had so few windows in here.” He blows out a breath. “We should hit a park or something after you’re off tonight, get you some time in the sun.” 
“That sounds nice,” you say, lifting the coffee in your hand to your lips reflexively. 
It’s not until you register the taste that you think to look at the logo on the cup. It’s from your favorite coffee shop, the one with only one location, which you almost never go to because it’s so far from where you work and live. 
“James,” you say, voice soft with wonder, “did you go all the way across town to get this?” 
“Yeah.” He smiles, tilting his head sideways to rest it on his palm. “That’s the one you like, right?” 
“Yeah, but…” You shake your head, grinning. “You’re crazy,” you say, when you mean to say You’re incredible. 
“Crazy for you.” He makes a disgusted face as he says it, laughing at himself. You can’t bring yourself to do the same. 
You remember a time, not so long ago, when you would have felt lucky if the person you were dating responded to your texts at all. James has responded in person, with kind words and gifts and a thoughtfulness that’s going to brighten not just the rest of your day but your week. You’ve no idea what to do with this much sweetness. 
You shake your head again. “Thank you. Seriously, I—this is too nice. You’re so—” You lean forward, running your forefinger over the stubble on his jaw as you peck him on the lips. His smile leaps up on his face. “You’re so sweet to me, Jamie. Thank you.” 
“I don’t mind, sweetheart, really.” James palms the back of your elbow, his touch trailing down to your wrist as you pull away. “I like doing things for you. You deserve it.” 
You smile at him, letting the sincerity in his voice warm your chest. “Nobody’s ever been this nice to me before,” you admit. 
James’ expression heavies slightly, a divot forming in between his brows. You feel embarrassed for having said it. You don’t mean to sound self-pitying, you only want James to understand how much you appreciate him, how unprecedented he is for you. 
He smooths his thumb over the hairs on your arm. “I want you to be happy,” he says, a carefulness to his words that’s so unlike his usual quick, energetic way of speaking. “Angel, I’ve got no reason to be anything but nice to you, because it makes me happy to see you happy. It’s like—” He glances away from your face for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks. “Like I’m getting to see you the way you’re supposed to be, does that make sense?”
He looks to you for confirmation. You can only stare back at him in stunned silence, horrendously in love and falling deeper by the second. James must find whatever he’s looking for in your expression, though, because he gives your wrist a friendly squeeze and goes on. 
“You’re supposed to be happy. You’re supposed to be treated nicely, no matter who you’re with, but I’m happy to be the person who gets to treat you that way.” He lifts his eyebrows as though to be sure you’re listening, lips quirking slightly. “And you’re nicer than nice to me, so I don’t want to hear any of this crap about bringing you flowers and a coffee being too nice. Got it?” 
Your face is a furnace. You don’t know how to respond. 
James grins, looking ten percent smug and ninety percent smitten. “Say okay, sweetheart.” 
“Okay,” you echo, unable to help breaking into a smile of your own. “Thanks.” 
James groans. He grabs the seat of your chair, rolling you closer to him until your knees are on either side of his. “Enough with the thanks,” he chides, more laughter than irritation in his tone. “Those other people sound like assholes, lovely. We’ve gotta up your standards.” 
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bluerosefox · 14 hours
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Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!
"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.
All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.
Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.
"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was rode up on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.
The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)
The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.
"Jason Peter Todd,
You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.
Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.
Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.
You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposable and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.
Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.
PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.
I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.
Ah, one more thing.
The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."
Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.
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hachinanakomatsu · 2 days
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The reason Farcille appeals to me as a dynamic is because it's really refreshing and unique for a fantasy series. They're two girls who found each other and became close on their own terms, not just because they like a man, or through a man. Marcille is Falin's first friend. Marcille is the only one besides her own brother, who bothered to try and reach out to Falin despite her absurdities, and try to understand her and not judge her because she's different. Falin felt she didn't belong and wasn't normal, and Marcille struggles with similar feelings.
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Their bond is an important and vital aspect of the series. Laios and Marcille both wanting to save Falin after she sacrificed herself against the red dragon. Marcille having attachment issues alongside Falin and having to learn to be independent and less clingy on her. Furthered by Falin herself realising she needs time alone after being saved at the end of series as she knows she has mostly relied on Marcille and Laios her whole life. Falin wants to become her own person and find her identity outside of the both of them.
I just love how Falin and Marcille love and care for one another but also realise they were initially co dependant and try to improve themselves without each other and don't trap each other down by what they want. It's just refreshing seeing two female characters in a fantasy series have such a strong bond with each other (regardless if you see them romantic or not). That isn't just tied around their worth with men around them. It feels realistic and it's relateable.
Falin is a really personal character for me and I love the way the series handles her connection with Marcille and her brother Laios. The way it also recognises her issues and flaws through other characters and it ends with her taking control of her own life. Dungeon Meshi has so many themes which can appeal to many different types of people, it's why i started loving this series so much. It's so comforting seeing platonic, romantic, familial bonds being explored in unique, real ways.
Anyway the point of this thread was just to explain why so many people love Farcille as a dynamic. It feels natural but also a refreshing relationship between two women who love and care for one another without their worth being tied down by male characters. Falin and Marcille, Laios and Falin's sibling dynamic, Kabru and Mithrun are all really refreshing dynamics Dungeon Meshi actually takes the time to explore and develop across it's story. Not many manga really develop relationships in this way, it's why i love the series!
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stressforu · 2 days
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♯ itoshi rin — 'you know how to ball, i know aristotle'
a trend perfectly describing you and rin .
note : proplayer!rin x fem!reader
home page . . .
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' ITOSHI RIN , a renowned soccer player from Japan have been rumored to attend a graduation ceremony just recently.''
The headline in big bold fonts are highlighted in an article, with a stolen shot (blurry if not with his recognizable dark green hair) of rin holding a bouquet of flowers in his left hand while holding his phone in the right, looking like he's texting someone.
Comments flooded the article, almost everyone is reluctant to know what is the famous striker doing at a university?
anon1028: guys, maybe he has a gf?
➜ anon5027: that's impossible, if he did have, it would've been rumored.
However, there was one thing the world already knew, Rin Itoshi was careful with the media. He's meticulous when he goes out, the paparazzi can't even get a single piece of information out of his private life. (The world turned upside down when a stolen shot of him was sent to the media.)
Though Rin Itoshi was meticulous with hiding, he didn't want to miss your graduation ceremony. Seeing you bask in the joy of graduation with friends and batchmates.
He was proud of you, even though he always scolded you when you didn't have enough sleep, forcing you to eat real food because you've been on noodles since last month.
He was willing to give up his private life in order to watch you give your speech as a valedictorian. (wow ...)
And as you ascended into the stage, the speech you wrote you held in your left hand, and the dainty 'clack' of your heels echoed the silent crowd.
You thanked the dean, the professors, and the staff welcomed the graduating students like you, and wished them a happy graduation.
As you near the end of the speech you want to give acknowledgment to a special someone.
"As the speech comes to an end, I want to thank someone very special who has been there for me throughout this journey. Their constant support, encouragement, and belief in me have always given me strength and inspiration. Whether it was studying late at night, feeling unsure, or celebrating achievements, their presence made a big difference."
Rin felt his eyes becoming teary, his face in a blushing mess, and that tight-lipped smile he'd always wear when he's happy.
You continued,
"To my partner, thank you for your endless patience, love, and for always believing in me, even when I struggled to believe in myself. This achievement is as much yours as it is mine."
You bowed, and the crown erupted into claps, awed by the heartwarming speech you had given on this day. You went down the stage to thank your professors and celebrate with your friends. However, you failed to notice Rin, your lover, walking into the crowd with a bouquet in his hand.
The crowd gasped, and someone pointed out shouting, "LOOK IT'S THE ATHLETE !" getting your attention. You gasped, it was Rin.
He walks towards you and hands out his bouquet with your favorite flowers. Congratulating you, and wishing you a happy graduation.
"y-you came..."
"how could I miss my girlfriend's graduation? congrats, baby ..."
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@/itoshi_rin has a new post .ᐟ
———
@/itoshi_rin : love you.
➜ tagged @/yn_tiredofstudying
1728 comments
—> @/sae_toshi : am i dreaming?
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notes : UHHH i dunno what to feel about this
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monstersflashlight · 24 hours
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Thoughts on nagas? I like how they're kind of a mix between werewolves (animal like, have knots, will use bodyweight to keep you in bed with them) and vampires (cold to the touch, bitey and uses venom to relax their partner)... also hemipenes are a huge plus
I also like the thought of a rattlesnake naga using their rattle on my clit like a vibrator
Hi! I love nagas! I agree with all your very valid points. Nagas are sexy af, fun to read and probably fun to write, too. I like the two peens situation, but i'm not sure about knotting. I prefer the knotting to go with werewolves and orcs, i don't know why but it just makes more sense in my head. Your rattlesnake idea is delightful, I take it. I also think nagas are pretty fun for non-sexy reasons. The whole laying on the sun sounds adorable, and I think their embrace could be top tier after-care, also a good anxiety relief system, constricting snake kinda way. I took this lil piece out of my drafts (might make it longer in the future). Like imagine:
Naga boyfriend who curls around you so tightly that you are about to pass out from lack of oxygen, he laughs it off, but the spark of fear fuels them. You feel them getting hard against you as he bites down on your neck, relaxing your whole body at once. You can feel everything, but barely move, he has you at his mercy. And he takes advantage of that. You lay there like a puppet as he eats you out with his long tongue, preparing both of your holes for him. When you are hot and bothered, stretched and relaxed... He fucks you senseless, your body is like a toy for him. He uses his rattlesnake to heighten your pleasure, vibrating against your nipples, against your clit. It's maddening. He keeps injecting venom into you, keeping you pliant for hours, making you orgasm so many times you can only cry every time it happens again. When he's finished with you, you are filled and stretched, so tired you can barely keep your eyes open. He curls around your body and presses you to the mattress, like a big snake-shaped weighted blanket.
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princessbrunette · 3 days
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princess we know pogue!rafe is mean to reader because she's kook and normal rafe is mean to puppy because she's pogue so what happens when it's pogue!rafe × puppyyyy
it’s kind of similar but he’s more accepting of her. still rough and wants her to behave herself but he treats her like she’s someone who belongs with him if that makes any sense ?? walks her around with a hand at the scruff of her neck and gives her little slaps when she deserves it but at the end of the day, he’ll stand proudly beside her — pointing at the crowd as they pass saying something like “y’see all these people? they don’t mean anything, alright. it’s me and you against everyone. no one’s gonna take care of you like me, yeah? s’just us, baby.” while puppy nods along ^_^
he helps her a lot — helps her get a job, encourages her to be something and do something with her life, kind of like the poguey mentor she needs …… complains and is angsty n sometimes rude but he gives her every last dime he’s got, manhandles her into her clothes when she’s too sleepy to get ready for work, lectures her whilst he brushes her teeth. he wants the best for her but can’t show it too good
he does think she’s a lil cutie though really. she works her silly little icecream shop job whilst he goes out and does hard manual labour and at the end of the day he lets her climb all over him excitedly rambling about the new flavours, smelling vaguely of strawberry shortcake icecream whilst he’s exhausted n still covered in grime from the building site ….. aaa i kinda luv them
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thebibliosphere · 2 days
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I probably have hEDS, have had tense muscles since I was 8 and more and more of my joints started to be in constant pain, 10 years spine, 14 years hips, then hands at 19 and now all of them. And though I'm over 40 and don't practice any stretching, I still can contort myself in any direction.
But I don't know if it's worth the energy to fight for a diagnosis? Because it doesn't seem like there is any help, other than mild painkillers and physiotherapy, and I already get that. It is so much work to convince doctors to look into the source of joint pain, as soon as they can rule out rheumatoid arthritis they stop caring. And I don't belive I will get stronger painkillers even with a diagnosis anyway.
Do you think a diagnosis is woth the hassel?
For me, diagnosis was worth it because it meant getting the correct kind of physical therapy, which is often very different from the regular kind you usually get if the physical therapist is good at their job.
Regular PT used to damage my joints more. PT designed to target hypermobility has actually helped build joint stability, retrain my muscles, and reduce some of my pain by lessening the frequency of injuries.
It’s also good to know because hEDS affects more than just your joints.
I have a lot of problems with my internal organs due to how my connective tissue is affected, and my brother, who is undiagnosed but likely affected, suffered from spontaneous retina detachment twice. When I mentioned it to my eye doctor he said, “yeah, that happens to you zebras” and now I get my retinal health assessed every six months because fuck that.
It can also be good to know because of how it affects your care during things like surgery, ranging from which anesthesia they use to the type of sutures required.
When my mother had a mastectomy, she experienced several surgical complications, including not being able to get the wound site to close, so they kept dragging her back into surgery.
When I found out, I told my dad the surgical team needed to know my mother likely had hEDS because I did, and my mother and I are carbon copies of each other. When my dad told the surgeon, he apparently said, “Well, if I’d known that, I’d have done the whole thing differently!” and finally got my mother stitched up properly and into recovery.
In that regard, my diagnosis helped not just me but a family member, but also indicated the type of care I’ll likely need if I’m ever in the same situation.
So, yes, it's a hassle to get diagnosed and some (bad) doctors will frame it in terms of “there’s no cure so there’s no point.”
But for me, it’s not only been worth it but also vital to the management of the rest of my care. And let me be clear, there are some people for whom this is just a crappy joint disorder, and they are otherwise fine. But for many of us, we’re more than just our fucky joints. We’re an entire plethora of health problems that all cascade from our weak connective tissue, and it's important more people recognize that.
So is it worth it for you? That's a you decision. But it was very much worth it for me.
I wish you luck and fewer days of pain. This shit sucks.
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syrupyy · 2 days
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Vivian finally being out as trans in the new Paper Mario remake hit me like a truck and it took me a while to fully understand why (light spoilers for chapter 2)
it's like.. I don't know how to describe it. I play a lot of indie games and I've gotten used to many of them having the full array of LGBTQ+ representation, and at this point I look at it and smile and then move on
with a huge corporation who has everything to lose like Nintendo, it feels like an entirely different world. here, I step back into this game I've owned on disc since I was a kid, and everything's the same if not slightly better... and then I start noticing the changes, one by one. picking up all the little clues, when suddenly I get to this line
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I had already been spoiled on her full confession by Twitter, but... when I saw even this much with my own two eyes, it felt like something that had been hiding in my mind for 12 years just leapt out. the subtext is now text. the characters of this world that I've thought about all this time, that I would doodle in my notebooks, that I used to read so much fanfiction about... are canonically going through the same real struggles as me and so many others I know
and I just felt... seen. like, as if I'm finally allowed to be a real person, like I'm not crazy for telling people to use gender neutral terms around me, like I'm truly nonbinary and not just in writing
I never really talk about my gender identity in public because I've never had that validation telling me that it's not just in my head. my friends will reassure me, my mom won't hate me for it... but at the end of it all, Nintendo raised me since I was three years old, and that was a pillar of my life whose approval I never expected to have
so when I saw this, I just... sat there, staring, for a full minute. processing these emotions I never even realized I had. it's just one little sentence in a 30 hour long video game, it shouldn't mean that much, but... it did to me. the writers actually cared. they stuck their faces out the window that is the trans experience and they came back and rewrote the script to match. they left the Fire Emblem toad the same, not even changing "GBA" to "Switch" or "3DS", but they knew to change this
thank you, Vivian. I understand how you feel now
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sturniyolos · 3 days
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The thought of nerd Matt being submissive makes me lose sleep.
“What do you want?” You ask Matt, sitting on his lap, pulling away from your heated makeout.
He starts blushing— embarassed to say what he actually wants. Born to say, “ride me until I can’t give you anymore cum” but forced to say “I want you.”
“You want me?” You ask lifting his chin up to look at you. He starts nodding fast. His fucked out look made him even more desirable.
His pink plump lips, his half unbuttoned shirt, love bites all over his neck, and his glasses still on the bridge of his nose.
“You gotta say somethin’ before I stop, you want me to stop?” You ask, looking down at him.
“N-no!” He says, holding your hips to make sure you don’t leave.
“So beg for it, what do you want?” You ask more sternly.
“Please f-fuck me. Please?” He asks, his words getting quieter and quieter everytime he spoke.
“There you go, good job baby.” You say, unbuttoning his shirt.
Matt always grew up being submissive, wondering what was wrong with him. He always did what everyone wanted, he never questioned them and just went along with it. And you loved that about him.
You always found Matt attractive, and one day you asked him out and he shyly said yes. He didn’t know how far this relationship would go, but now you’re in his room, making him beg you to ride him.
“I haven’t fucked you in so long, love.” You say, pulling into a kiss. Small, low whimpers leave his mouth. He starts gripping the bedsheets next to him, almost about to release in his pants. You start taking off his pants, so he’s left in his underwear. You look down and see the print, and you almost start drooling.
When you and Matt first had sex, you were in shock for at least a couple of days as you didn’t believe how huge he was. You even asked him if you could ride him everyday just because he was that addicting.
“D-do you think they’ll c-catch us?” Matt asks, in between kisses. Matt’s biggest fear is always Nick and Chris walking in, seeing him just to listen to his girlfriend like a dog.
“Who cares, baby? If they do, they’ll know how good I fuck you.” You say, slipping your shorts and panties off. You start pulling down Matt’s underwear very slowly. He starts breathing heavier, bucking his hips in order to help you go faster.
“Did I tell you to do that?” You look up at him with disbelief.
“I’m sorry. I just w-want you.” He says looking down, fixing his glasses that is about to fall off. You look down and finally get his underwear off. His tip is beating red, with precum oozing out of his slit.
“Oh my gosh, mmmm. I’ll never get tired of you.” You say to yourself, kissing his tip so gently. He starts whimpering, needing anything more than this.
“Ride me raw, please.” He says quietly, hoping you heard.
And you did hear. You just wanted to hear it again.
“What was that baby?” You say, rubbing your thumb over his tip.
“R-ride me raw, p-please.” He says, basically pleading at this point.
You and Matt always used protection, as he was very cautious on not wanting an accident to happen. But, this time he was so desperate— he wanted more.
“Yeah? You want it?” You ask, slowly getting up and pulling yourself on his lap.
“P-please, I’ll do anything.” He states whimpering.
“You’re so pathetic for me, I love it.” You state, grabbing the base of his cock and sliding down.
You both gasp at the feeling, Matt knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the sheets next to him.
“F-fuck, you’re so big.” You say, completely bottoming out.
You sit still and you feel Matt twitching inside you already, not daring to make eye contact.
“Why won’t you look at me?” You ask, choking him slightly.
“If I-I do, I will cum really fast. I don’t w-want to c-cum yet.” He says, looking up at you with his signature “fuck me” eyes.
You start slowly bounching on his cock, him feeling how truly wet you are. He takes matters into his own hands and removes your [his] sweater, revealing you wearing nothing underneath. He starts sucking your left tip, you moaning as a result.
“Baby, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take it— oh my God.” You say, your wetness getting all over his cock, his thigh, his bed, everywhere.
“Please don’t stop. Oh my God. Y-you’re so tight.” He says, his head hitting the headboard of his bed.
Matt was getting closer and closer to release, but his number one rule: “You need to cum first before I do.” And he always stuck to that rule, but this time he doesn’t even know if he’ll make it.
“You gonna cum soon, baby?” You ask, taking his glasses off and putting on you.
He almost cums at the site of you wearing his glasses, your fucked up hair, your titties bouncing, and your make up half off.
“You h-have to cum first.” He states, mouth slightly open.
“If you cum first, you’ll make me cum.” You state, hands on his stomach.
“I’ll t-tell you when to get o-off.” He says, getting closer and closer to his release.
“No. You’re cumming inside me. I want you to fill me up. I want you to make me a mommy baby. Fill me up, baby please.” You say, knowing damn well he’s gonna cum soon.
And you were right, he moans loudly, filling up your tight hole.
Then, you reached your climax. Your juices getting all over his cock, slowly riding him to finish yourself.
“You’re so good to me, baby.” You state, kissing his neck up and down.
——————————————————————————
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allthingsbucktommy · 2 days
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Highlights of 7x09:
- So, we have confirmation that Tommy's full name is Thomas, BUT evidently he prefers Tommy. We hope that later, in s8 maybe?, we will know why.
- The confrontation with Gerrard. Well, first there's Chim confronting his former captain for himself, and for Tommy and Buck. That shows how much he cares about both of them. And second, Buck and Tommy's body language, protecting each other. Personally, I think that scene is the prelude to a plot/SL for s8, but we'll see.
- During the ceremony, we have seen that Buck and Tommy's relationship is at- well, kinda domestic point, proud of and comfortable with each other. It reminds me of how we see other couples like Henren and Bathena. Of course I need to see cute moments between them, but I liked seeing them more relaxed, like an established couple, if you know what I mean.
- Bobby clearly saying "we don't have to talk about Tommy because your relationship is healthy." Bobby is Buck's father figure, and he knows Tommy very well, so that conversation is a clear statement of what we (hopefully) will see in season 8.
- We don't know specifically how long Buck and Tommy have been together, but we can guess that they have gotten to know each other better, have probably talked about some things regarding their lives before they met, and are building a beautiful, steady and sincere relationship.
Feel free to add/send us your thoughts!
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All In 5
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)
based on the winning option for this poll
Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes
Note: Happy weekend.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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The car comes to a stop. It takes you a minute to notice as you reel yourself back to reality. You blink through the tinted window as Merv turns the music down; a song about glory days or something. 
“Here we are,” he announces and cranes to look back at you, “have fun, miss.” 
“Have fun...” you whisper to yourself in confusion, “what? Where do I go?” 
He laughs, not mockingly, and he points through the window, “well, you’ll want to go into that restaurant and give them Mr. Barnes’ name. They’ll sort you out, I’m sure.” 
“Oh,” your brows draw together. A restaurant. What? 
You undo your seatbelt hesitantly and peer out through the glass again. This is strange. You’ve only had a few interviews and most of them were in cramped backrooms or closets. You pull the handle and let yourself out, thanking Merv before you step up on the curb. 
You shut the car door and hook your bag over your shoulder. You stare up at the restaurant’s marquee. It’s a bistro of some sort. Upscale by your measure, thought you have little experience beyond chain joints and fast food. The white facade with its tall windows is intimidating as you approach the entrance. 
As you step inside, you’re all but assured that you don’t belong. A woman greets you with a pearly smile, her hair in a wispy bun, as she sports a flowery white dress. You look back and forth as she cradles a tablet in one arm. 
“Do you have a reservation?” She asks. 
You look down at yourself. That’s a generous assumption. You don’t know how she’s not telling you to leave. 
“Erm, I... I think I’m looking for someone,” you say, “Mr. Barnes?” 
“Barnes, yes, party for two,” she taps the screen, “he’s waiting. Won’t you follow me?” 
She spins on her heels and strolls away. She’s tall and gorgeous, just like the woman at the casino. You peer around and find no less finery and beauty among the staff and diners. The table are all white and polished and the walls are hung with abstract paintings of heaping fruit and bright cocktails. You’ve never seen brunch done so extravagantly. 
You nearly trip as you look ahead just before you reach the stairs. The hostess climbs ahead of you. You envy her modelesque figure. How is she stuck here? She’s breathtaking. She could be in magazines. 
More importantly, where are you going? 
Several flights and you emerge into the open air. You've never been on a rooftop. You’ve seen things like these in movies. There’s a bar center to the space and tables beneath umbrellas set all about. There is only one diner despite the sunshine. It is strangely desolate for such a warm scene. 
You’re led to the only occupied table. Mr. Barnes stands as you near. He wears a pair of teal slacks and a patterned shirt with an open collar. Casual but just as refined as before. It hardly seems like job interview. 
“Doll,” he greets you with a kiss on the cheek to your surprise. You don’t comment on it, it might just be his way. “You made it.” 
“I...” you check your watch, “it was before noon when I got to the casino.” 
“That’s on me,” he insists as he pulls out the chair for you, “I got restless. Changed my mind. Please.” 
He gestures to the seat and you accept stiffly, moving your bag into your lap as he tucks the chair in under you. He resumes his seat and looks up at the woman patiently standing to the side, “Melody,” he says, “she’ll have a vodka cran, give me my usual. Thanks.” 
“Yes, Mr. Barnes,” she replies eagerly. 
“Oh, and the lunch menu,” he returns. 
She clacks off in her heels as you squirm and clutch your purse. You peer around the rooftop and finally at Bucky. You give a sheepish smile. 
“This is a nice place.” 
“Sure is,” he sits back carelessly. There is no tension in him but your wound tight as a spring. 
“Never been anywhere like this...” your eyes drift over and you stare at the city skyline. 
“Made sure we weren’t near the edge, doll,” he assures, “I remember you’re not a fan.” He rests a hand on the table, rubbing his index and thumb. “And I wanted to have this time alone so my pal did me a favour and cleared the roof.” 
“Oh, wow.” 
“He owns this place,” he shrugs. “Never got into the restaurant business. It’s fickle.” 
You nod, not knowing what to say. He knows about these things. Obviously, a lot. You’ve never even worked a full-time week of work. 
“How’s your sister?” He asks, “I assume you got home safe.” 
“Yes, er, thank you, again, for doing all that,” you bite your lip and his blue eyes catch the gesture as his eyebrow tweaks. “I’m really sorry she did that.” 
“Doll, you’re real sweet apologising for her,” he inclines his head slightly, “but you gotta worry about yourself, don’t ya? That’s why you’re here.” 
The hostess, Melody, reappears and sets down two glasses. Yours is bright red with a lime on the rim and his is dark, no ice. She lays down a menu in front of each of you and straightens her posture. 
“I have to get back to the door but Hailee will be up to help you shortly. Our specials today are a goat cheese and beet salad or a brown sugar salmon with seasonal veggies.” 
“Thanks,” Bucky says as he taps the menu. 
Melody leaves you again and you bend your neck to read the menu. You look for a price beneath the dishes and find none. That can’t be good. 
“I’m not very hungry,” you sit up straight. 
“Doll, don’t worry about it. It’s on me,” he circles his hand around his glass, “why don’t you try your drink? Make sure it’s up to snuff.” He sits forward and lifts his own, “cheers.” 
Your hand slips up the condensating glass before you get a grasp on it. You raise it and clink it against his. You bring it to your lips slowly as he does the same, mirroring you as he watches you intently. You gulp and set down the glass as your cheeks strain. 
“You don’t like it?” He wonders. 
“No, I... well, I don’t drink much,” you take the cloth napkin and dab your lips. 
“Ah, if that’s too tart, you can have a look at the cocktails. Some of them are so sweet, you wouldn’t know the difference.” 
“I’m okay,” you assure him, “so...” you swallow and force out your breath, “about the job--” 
“Damn, doll, I’m so all over the place lately, I didn’t even tell you how good you look.” 
“I...” your eyes widen but you quickly wipe away your shock, “that’s nice. I mean, thank you.” Your voice shakes as you struggle to comprehend the compliment. What do you say? “You too.” 
He smirks, “yeah, you think so?” 
“What?” Your voice cracks. 
“You think I look good?” He combs his fingers through his long hair. Oh god. 
“Yes,” you answer cautiously, “I like your shirt.” 
“You’re adorable,” he snickers and shakes his head, leaning forward once more, bending his arms against the table. 
“Uh...” you peek down at the table and back to him. You can’t even blame the sun that you’re about to melt. The umbrella blocks out the bright beacon though a glare comes over the edge. “Bucky, sir, Mr. Barnes,” you shuffle through his titles, “the job. What would that be?” 
His brows rise and he brings a hand up to drag over his mouth and beard, his fingers brushing along the trim of his jaw. 
“The job,” he repeats as he narrows his eyes, “ah,” he lowers his head and presses a fingertip to the menu, “let’s order before we get into all that.” 
You look over the menu again then raise your chin, “I appreciate it, but it’s too much, Bucky. I wouldn’t want to... waste your money.” 
“It’s my money,” he looks at you, “so I’ll decide how I waste it.” 
“Oh,” your cheeks set alight, “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be,” he tilts his head again, “you’re just that type of girl. You don’t know what it is to be treated so allow me to show you.” 
You’re confused. This is the oddest encounter you’ve ever had. You almost feel like it’s a joke. You’re this poor helpless girl and he’s flaunting how rich and powerful he is. Is there even a job? 
“I’d feel worse if you didn’t eat, so doll, don’t step on my toes.” 
You chew your cheek and look down again. That’s it. You’ll have the cucumber sandwich. That’s not too much. It can’t be. 
The waitress arrives, a different woman but just as stunning. She introduces herself as Hailee. Bucky prompts you to order first before he gives his own. As she leaves, you rock slightly in your chair, stilling yourself before you can look weird. 
“So... I could clean or... I could learn something--” 
“Let me stop your there, doll,” he puts a large hand up, his palm rough and lined. “It’s my turn to apologise. I... haven’t been honest with you.” 
Your heart drops and you can’t help the glimmer in your vision. No. You’re going to have to go home and tell your mother you failed again. That you wasted her time and gas. You close your eyes and frown. 
“Doll, doll,” he says and you hear his chair scrape. You open your eyes as he pulls his chair around to sit closer to you, “hey, let me finish here.” 
You look him in the eye. Big mistake. You could drown in the blueness. He smirks and rubs your arm. 
“I’m not... it’s not a job I have to offer you,” he says deliberately, his other hand fluttering on your knee, “I would call it an arrangement. Mutually beneficial.” 
You stare at him. You’re entire being is on fire. You don’t understand what he’s saying, more so, you can barely think with him touching you. 
“But... I need a job,” you sniffle. 
He scoffs, not unkindly, “you’ll have money. I know you got a family, your sister, maybe your parents? Economy’s tough, I know it.” 
“Money? For what?” 
He squeezes your knee and sits up, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he leans even closer, “for your company. For yourself.” 
“What?” Your voice piques sharply. “I don’t...” 
“Look, let’s take it slow here, alright? Today is the taster. We spend some time together, see how we vibe, and go from there. Now I know you went to a whole lot of trouble to get so nice and pretty for me today,” he coaxes, “and I’m not gonna waste your time so you won’t go home empty handed. One thousand.” 
“Thousand?” You breathe. 
“Just for lunch,” he says, “I’d pay a lot more so I’m open to bartering.” 
“That’s... a lot...” you mutter. 
“Nothing’s too much for a girl like you,” his fingers dance along your shoulder. 
“I... I...” you heave each word. 
“Now don’t you freak out,” he’s on the edge of laughing, “doll, I mean it. Just lunch. You and me. Nothing...” he pulls away from you and puts his hands up, “untoward.” 
He stands and moves his chair back across from you. He sits and pushes his shoulders wide, “I mean it. Let’s get to know each other. I want to know all about you, doll.” 
“Me?” You gulp. 
“You,” he points over the table, “you must like music. You went to that concert, didn’t ya?” 
You nod and curl your shoulders. 
“What kinda music you like?” 
“Oh, I... old stuff, I guess. Destiny’s Child?” You give a sheepish cringe. 
“Old school,” he remarks, “I like it. Spice girls too?” 
“Yeah,” you clamp your lips together. 
“I’m not teasing ya. I can’t lie and say I never turned the radio up when I heard them,” he chuckles, “no judgment. That goes for you too, alright? When you find out how much I like ABBA, you can’t giggle.” 
Your cheeks dimple as you try not to smile. It’s hard to imagine him listening to Dancing Queen. You push your shoulders higher and look away. 
“Don’t laugh,” he chides. 
“I didn’t,” you turn back to him. 
“Yeah, you’re too nice, that’s why,” he purrs, “you gotta tell me your fave ABBA song.” 
You shrug and he squints cynically, “everyone has one. Come on. Fernando?” You shake your head at his guess. “Waterloo?” Again, no. “Mamma Mia?” Nope. “Take a Chance on Me?” No. “Alright, I surrender, tell me.” 
“Gimme, Gimme, Gimme,” you eke out. 
“Hm, not what I would guess but interesting,” he muses as his eyes wander from your face and back up, “but I at least knew you had taste.” 
He winks and you let out a giggle. Whether your nervous or something else, you can’t untangle all your emotions from one another. Yet you do feel a little better, a little lighter. It’s an unexpected situation but not as bad as you foresaw. 
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uzurakis · 20 hours
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hi hi it’s me again!! (yes I’m the nonnie w/the stalker request + ‘my friend thinks ur cute’ request :3) I’m here to request again!! reckless!reader with jjk men (yuta n Megumi yk the deal 🙏🙏) + bonus points if reader hides their injuries too! maybe reader was on a mission; got injured and didn’t tell jjk men, or reader was playing around on a frozen lake not giving af and it begins to crack, or reader straight up doesn’t look both ways while crossing the street n act like they have 9 lives (yuta ptsd fr 😭), or anything you wanna come up with :3 do what you like!
HIDING YOUR INJURIES FROM THEM?
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featuring: gojo satoru. fushiguro megumi. yuuta okkotsu. itadori yuuji.
n. i sure know the deal my beloved meguyuta nonnie (imma call u dat instead). i decided to go with the first idea of yours, i hope that’s okay!
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you returned from a challenging mission, your body aching with every step. despite the pain gnawing at you, you plastered on a smile as you entered the room where megumi was waiting. he looked up, concern etched across his features.
fushiguro megumi has the term ‘worry’ in his vocabulary. he immediately called out, "you…” without saying any ‘hey’s or ‘hi’s, you were able to cut him off with your response. 
"it went alright, just a few scrapes," you replied, trying to downplay the severity of your injuries
but megumi wasn't fooled. his brows furrowed as he approached you, his eyes scanning your form. “you’re lying,” megumi grabbed your wrist firmly as he looked straight into your eyes. "those 'scrapes' look more like serious wounds," he said, you could literally hear him edged with frustration.
you swallowed, guilt creeping into your chest. "i’m fine," you confessed, avoiding his gaze and breaking free from his grip.
megumi sighed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation. "you're injured, and you’re still trying to hide it from me? seriously?" he scolded, frustration becoming more evident.
“fine then.”
he looked away, and you felt a twinge of regret at the way he responded. but then there was a change in his attitude. as he reached for the first aid kit, his demeanor softened and his irritation vanished. silently, he whispered, "let's get you patched up," megumi’s voice was soft yet stiff.
as he tended to your wounds in silence, the tension in the room dissipated. his touch was tender, his movements careful as he bandaged your injuries. when he finished, he looked up, green pupils meeting yours.
"you make me worry, you know that?" 
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ITADORI YUUJI. you stumbled through the door, trying to hide the wince as pain shot through your side. itadori was waiting, his eyes lighting up as he saw you, but then furrowing with concern as he noticed your slight limp.
"baby, you're back! how did it go?" he asked.
you forced a smile, trying to brush off the pain. "good, thank god it was just a second grade curse," you replied, hoping he wouldn't see through your facade.
your boyfriend, though, remained unconvinced. "are you sure you're alright? you’re limping.”
you hesitated, but his genuine concern melted away your resolve. you felt bad for keeping it from him, but at last you said, "well, there might be a small injury, but it's nothing serious." 
instantly, itadori's expression softened, and he wrapped you in a tight hug that made you let out a small ouch. "don't hide these things from me," his breath warm against your ear. “let me help you tend your injuries, baby. do you need shoko or just an aid kit?”
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GOJO SATORU. the mission had been tougher than anticipated, but you knew gojo would worry if he saw how badly you were hurt. so you played pretend and hoped it would be enough. gojo was lounging on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his usual smirk playing on his lips. his eyes, hidden behind his pitch black glasses, seemed to twinkle as he looked up at you. "oi, you're back earlier than i expected."
you nodded, keeping your movements slow and controlled. "yeah, managed to wrap things up quicker than i thought." he tilted his head, a curious glint in his eye. "really? no trouble at all?"
"none," you lied, forcing a laugh. "just the usual."
gojo's smile faltered, just for a second, but you caught it. he stood up and sauntered over to you, his gaze never leaving your face. "hey, you know," he began, voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone, "i can see right through you, babe. you're hurt."
"i'm okay, satoru. really."
he reached out, gently but firmly taking your arm. "don't lie to me." his fingers brushed against a particularly sore spot, and you winced despite yourself. “look?”
"satoru, i didn't want you to worry—“
he cut you off, his grip tightening just enough to keep you still without causing more pain. "hm, too late for that, baby," he said with a mix of irritation and concern. "let me take care of you."
you sighed, realizing there was no point in hiding it anymore. "okay, but just... be gentle, alright?"
he led you to the couch, his touch surprisingly tender as he helped you sit down. "i'm always gentle," he teased, but his eyes were serious as he examined your injuries. "you should've told me right away."
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YUUTA OKKOTSU. he eyed you for a moment, his smile fading slightly. "babe, you alright? you seem a bit... off."
"just tired. it's been a long day." you waved a hand dismissively, nothing to worry, you wanted to tell him that.
yet, yuuta's gaze still lingered on you, eyes narrowing slightly. "alright," he said slowly, "if you say so."
you made your way to the bathroom, trying to move naturally despite the pain. you thought you had managed to convince him, but as you stood in front of the stall, trying to remove your clothes without aggravating your injuries, the man appeared in the doorway.
"let me help you with that," he said softly, moving to stand beside you.
you blinked, surprised. "yuuta, really, i'm fine. you don't have to—”" then he gently took your hand, eyes full of concern. "please, let me help you tend your wounds, babe.”
thinking again, you hadn't said anything about being hurt, but somehow he knew. "how did you..”
your boyfriend smiled faintly. "i could tell. i know you too well." his fingers brushed lightly over a bruise that was starting to show through your shirt. "you don't have to hide it from me."
you sighed, feeling a mix of relief and resignation. "i just didn't want you to worry."
yuuta shook his head, his expression tender. "i worry more when you try to hide things from me. so don’t do it again, you hear me, babe?”
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@uzurakis
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atelierlili · 2 days
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I always wondered why Katniss factored marriage and children into the equation when it came to reciprocating Peeta’s feelings for her. It’s a rather large leap, especially when Peeta himself never expresses wanting children at any point in the story. He uses children as a tool to persuade Katniss and the Capital to save her life, but the only time we see him express any desire/feelings of having one of his own is when he’s crying after the baby bomb. But we never hear his real thoughts.
But you wanna know who does express wanting children? Gale.
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It’s one of the first thing he mentions in chapter one. And it pisses her off so much.
(I also want to add that Gale reframes/establishes the dynamic of Katniss and him caring for their siblings from something that is sibling-sibling to parent-sibling. And he is not wrong. Katniss doesn’t refute him. Both Katniss and Gale are surrogate parents to their siblings. Which is also why Katniss love and affection of Prim, is not just sisterly. I’ve seen people say Katniss is only sisterly to Prim- but she’s not. She’s parentified their relationship to the point she subconsciously see Prim as her child, which makes this a tragedy because she’ll loose her first child no matter what she does by the end of the story.)
But Gale’s phrasing here elevates himself as a potential suitor to Katniss by placing them both as the parental roles to these children. (Which irritates her a lot ). Which is why she brings the topic up with her relationship with Peeta. Because she’s subconsciously aware of Gale’s efforts and knows it will be a point of contention between them. It hangs over her head in a way.
With Gale, children are extra mouths to feed. (But Gale will do fine. He can work. He can hunt.) It’s all framed with calculated survival in mind. But it’s also not something she had planned in the future at any point.
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But Peeta’s children? Oh they deserve to be born because Peeta deserves to be a father. He would be such a good father. They deserve to exist in a world where they can be safe and happy. (Even if it’s not with her.)
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This is also why I think she subconsciously sees Peeta’s baby as her own. And I don’t think of it as a cruel/heartless thing, it’s just you’d be more protective of your own child compared to someone else’s. Katniss sees Gale as a reliable person who’s equipped to look after a kid. She doesn’t express the same kind of maternal instinct/yearning for the Baby Hawthrone’s safety as she does with the idea of Baby Mellark, because she doesn’t think of Gale’s child as her own. She never hopes for a better future for them, but she does with Peeta because he and that baby gives her hope. And she loves him that much.
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mediumgayitalian · 2 days
Text
“After you.”
“Nerd.”
Nico tugs on a curl as he walks by Will’s bowed head, scoffing when Will winks at him. His hand lingers, though, waiting for Will to kick the door shut, trailing past his ear and down his neck and twisting down his arm, sliding down to his palm. His fingers are cold, as they always are, and Will brings them up to his mouth and kisses them, gently, and Nico rolls his eyes then, too, but the smile pushes out onto his face anyway.
“You can’t be doing all this in public,” he scolds.
“You started it,” Will points out, even though he’d be doing this anyway. Cursed be the day Will has Nico next to him and keeps his distance. He can’t imagine it. When he is around him he often feels like the desperately spinning needle in an old compass. Whirling around to find his source, his true North.
“Stop saying mushy shit in your head.”
“Out loud it is, then.” He clears his throat. “Oh, Nico, shimmering stars in my skies —”
They’re loud, far too loud, for this time in the morning, and even Nico’s slapping hands and laughing shushes do nothing to keep the infirmary quiet, but Will can’t bring himself to care. Partially because each one of the fuckers kept him busy for hours yesterday, straight through lunch, but mostly because the freshly risen sun beams almost directly onto Nico’s face, melting his eyes into pools of amber, and he smiles in that quiet, private way of his, close-lipped and crooked. There is breath in Will’s lungs, he knows it, but his body forgets, and all he can see hear think feel is the shape of Nico’s smile, and the slope of his nose, and the feel of his cool roughened hands on Will’s face.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and the words are muffled by his palms but the sincerity is not. The sincerity is punched out of him like the air hisses out of the gills of a hooked fish.
Nico huffs. “You’re buttering me up.” But he is preening; shoulders shuddering and eyelashes fluttering at the praise. At the wideness of Will’s eyes, the brazen, blatant awe.
He doesn’t let Will look long, because he rarely does, but he pulls away with a smile, softens his distance with three quick squeezes to Will’s fingers, with a brush of his hair. He stalks over to the nurse’s station, humming, plucking the clipboard from the wall and inspecting it, pulling his own crumpled paper from his pocket and smoothing it out side by side. Will trails by after him, plucking his coat from the bench and shrugging it on.
“Where are you today?”
“Arena, mostly. Kiddie classes today. You in here all day?”
Will looks over at the sleeping Hermes kids — all nineteen of them — and sighs. “Yep.”
“Won’t see you much, then.”
“Ugh.”
“However will you survive.”
“Maybe I have a nervous breakdown and get reassigned. You think I’d thrive in California? Maybe Pennhurst —”
“Oh my gods.”
There’s no one quite as effective as shutting Will the fuck up as Nico. Something about him just makes him pensive, makes him reflective. Makes him realise that time is limited and silence holds weight, that moments of quiet tranquility are infinitely more valuable than one realises outside of them.
Also tonsil hockey. That works pretty well, Will has to admit. Lou Ellen has disgustingly described it as ‘Will’s off button being located in the back of his throat’, which, fair, but she shouldn’t have said it.
“Have a good day at work,” Nico murmurs, pecking Will’s pout. “Try not to commit medical malpractice. Or negligence.”
“…I might do negligence.”
“Oh, shut up. You love your job.”
“I love you,” Will grumbles, his own smile twitching behind pressed-closed lips. “My job drains me and violates several labour laws.”
Conveniently ignoring the second half of his complaint, because he loves to watch Will suffer, apparently, Nico murmurs “Love you too, drama queen, I’ll bring you lunch,” kisses him again, and then jogs off, headed for the Arena.
Will sighs, turning to his clipboard, and starts running through a list of every god he knows, thanking them for Nico.
He’s pretty lucky.
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