#had this for a idea for a while was terrified to post it tho

[starscream-is-my-wife]

Ngl the more I like Jetfire the more I feel this part of the wiki whenever someone brings up Starscream for no reason

[arolesbianism]

Things I realized I forgot to post part 200 billion (this one's from september wow)

[miley1442111]

Heyyy!! Would you be interested in writing an angst aaron and bau!reader fic where they're in an established relationship for quite a while now and even have a kid together other than jack. they having relationship problems tho and maybe decided to take some time off their relationship temporarily. so reader takes her and aarons kid in their time off and jack is with aaron. angst where poor jack feels abandoned by reader and thinks she's leaving them cause both the adults are too prideful to talk everything out and make it work. (you can write it however like btw but hopefully with a happy ending 🤞🤍🤍🤍)

i love this idea, sorry i let it sit for so long! only realised i hadn't posted this now :0

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

pinky promises-a.hotchner

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

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

a/n: fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

summary: how you and aaron worry jack, and how aaron finds something out 20 years later.

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warnings: angst, fighting, mentions of divorce, jack being upset, etc.

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

It had been weeks and weeks of pointless fighting. You were exhausted. Aaron was exhausted. 

“What do you want me to say about it Aaron?” You sighed, exasperation running through your bones. 

“I want you to say anything!” He shouted. You felt a wire snap inside you. Aaron never shouted at you. He knew how horrible he was being. He knew how bad you felt. He knew that this was a stupid thing to be fighting about.

“I’m going to my brother’s house, how about that?” You sighed. “Is that what you wanted me to say?” 

Aaron rolled his eyes, irritated at your dramatics. When he came home from one of the worst cases he’d been on for a while, all he’d wanted was to wrap you up in his arms and not let you go. But of course, he had to ruin it by starting an argument. You were 7 months postpartum, he shouldn’t have been picking fights and he knew it. But he was just so irritated. He realised something, he was taking the worst parts of his job home with him again.

“I need a break from it Aaron, alright. I’ll take Marcy and you’ll get some real sleep for a weekend and we’ll calm down and talk on Monday, alright?” 

Some sleep sounded great. Calming down sounded great. Reconciling sounded great. “Alright,” he nodded curtly. 

“Alright,” you sighed. You had never wanted it to come to this. He promised you it wouldn’t come to this. 

Yet it had. 

“I’ll pack a bag for you,” He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek as he started to walk off but you grabbed his hand and kissed it softly.

“I love you. Always,” you reminded him. His heart melted a little bit. 

“I love you too.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ While you and Aaron were busy fighting, Jack was in his playroom down the hall. He was terrified, you were leaving? You were taking Marcy? 

What would happen to him? He’d already lost his mom, he couldn’t lose you too.

“Honey?” He whispered as you passed the playroom. He’d picked up the habit of calling you ‘honey’ the same way Aaron did. 

“Hey Jackers,” you smiled through the inner monologue running through your head. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

Jack thought this would be his last time with you tucking him in, so he got up immediately and hugged your legs. You chuckled at his antics, unaware of his anxieties, and picked him up in your arms. 

“Can I say goodnight to Marcy?” He asked and you nodded.

“Of course you can, I’ll get your dad as well, we can all say goodnight,” You smiled.

Jack, being the little profiler he was, noticed the way you’d said ‘his dad’ not just ‘dad’. His stomach dropped. He felt sick, the kind of sick he felt before he vomited.  Jack ran into Marcy’s nursery as you went to find Aaron.

“Ok Marcy, I love you, I don’t say it enough,” he whispered into her cot as she slept soundly. “I hope I was a good big brother, you were a great little sister-”

“What are you doing jack?” You asked, worried  and confused by his actions. Aaron stood behind you, his signature frown painted on his face. 

Jack started crying and both you and Aaron ran to him, wrapping him up in your arms. After a few minutes of calming him down, and calming Marcy down after she woke up with Jack crying, you sat on the floor of the nursery beside Aaron as Jack explained. 

“WellIheardyouguysfightingandIknowY/nisgoingawaynowandI’llmissher-” He rushed out but Aaron held up a hand to stop him. 

“Slowly Jack, slowly,” he reminded him and Jack crawled into Aaron’s lap and whispered it to him. 

“I heard you two fighting, and it was like when mom and you used to fight, so I know it means that Y/n and Marcy are going away now, like when you went away and I’m sad because I’ll miss them like I miss mommy,” he sniffled as Aaron’s heart broke. His eyes filled with tears that he forced himself to swallow, the task almost proving too difficult. He looked at you, your head in your hands, you’d heard him too. 

“Jack, your dad and I aren’t breaking up, we’re both just really stressed right now and we thought it would be a good idea to give each other some space. The only reason I’d take Marcy is because I have to breastfeed her,” you explained, your voice breaking. “I love your dad so much, and I love you so much, I could never leave you,” you smiled sadly and took his hand. “Remember the pinky promise I made to you on my wedding day? I meant that.”

Aaron’s ears peaked up as Jack nodded. There was something unspoken about the way that Jack seemed to relax at your words, his entire body lacking any and all tension in mere seconds. 

What was the pinky promise?

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

Aaron walked out of Jack’s bedroom and leant against the door of your bedroom, watching you read your book. When you looked up, you were reminded of a younger Aaron, the one you'd met in college when he was with Haley. You felt awful having a massive crush on one of your friend’s boyfriend so you steered clear of him. Who knew you’d be here now? His wife. The mother to his children. 

“Hey handsome,” you smiled at him. 

“I don’t want space. Please don’t leave,” he asked, not meeting your eyes. 

“Let’s be honest, we both know I wasn’t getting over the threshold of my brother’s place before I ran back,” you smiled. Aaron plunked himself down beside you, lying down and pressing kisses against your neck. 

“I’m sorry I picked a fight,” he sighed.

“Sorry I kept it going,” you whispered, kissing his head. 

“So we're alright?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes, we’re ok,” you chuckled. His hands wrapped around you, pulling himself closer into your comforting embrace. For a few minutes, he tried to read your book alongside you, but his question still nagged, what was the promise?

“You want to know what the promise was, don’t you,” you chuckled.

“Yes,” he admitted, a shy smile on his face.

“Too bad,” you smirked, making him roll his eyes. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------It was 20 years later that he found out what the promise was, on Jack’s wedding day.

“Now, probably 20 odd years or so, I made a promise to Jack on my wedding day,” you admitted in your speech. Aaron’s interest peaked once more. “I promised him that I would love him and his dad as long as they allowed me to. That as long as Jack wanted me there, I would be. I told him he could call it off at any time, if anything was ever too much for him or if he hated me when he became a teenager. I promised him I’d go without a word of his involvement. I swore that I’d love him until the minute he didn't want me there, and even then that I'd just love him from far away. But I’m so happy you let me stay around Jack, you’ve become quite the amazing person,” you smiled through tears as he held your hand in his, just like he had all those years ago. Aaron’s heart swelled. You’d thought about Jack since day one. When your speech was finished, Aaron pulled you away from the rest of the party to kiss you in the beautiful sunset, the same venue you two had gotten married in. 

He loved you.

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[aventurineswife]

happy birthday!!! (I hope it's still your birthday)

if the requests are open I have an idea, but it's totally fine if your not feeling it. I'd like someone from the IPC but I don't care too much :)

maybe some angst with a reader who buries their feelings and opinions under hundreds of masks, a liar who admits it. All their actions a carefully crafted way to push their faction forwards. Flirts not out of attraction but a need to squeeze every last credit out of their "beloved investors'.

Maybe after a while when the characters finally crack away into a actual friendship (maybe more), the reader admits that they don't even know who they are anymore, and they don't want to feel loved because they don't know how to not lie anymore.

If you use this you can change it however, I just like the idea of it :)

Gilded Masks & Shattered Glass

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Topaz x Reader, Jade x Reader, Angst, Slow Burn, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Something Softer (?), Flawed Romance, Manipulative Reader, Identity Crisis, Mutual Deception, Found Family Vibes (eventually), Dark Past, Survivor’s Guilt, Emotional Unmasking, Power Dynamics, Philosophical Themes, Flirtation as Strategy, “Liar x Liar” Energy, Reader Doesn’t Want to Be Loved, Morally Grey Relationships, Political Intrigue, Subtle Affection, Reader Falls Apart (Eventually), Character Falls First (Quietly).

Warnings: Emotional Manipulation (Mutual), Identity Dissociation, Psychological Trauma, Past Abuse (Referenced), Survivor’s Guilt, Trust Issues, Touch-Starved Behavior, Toxic Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Dynamics (Early), Emotional Repression, Strategic Betrayal, Dark Themes, Ambiguous Morality, Fear of Intimacy, Self-Loathing, Reader Is a Masked Liar, Bittersweet Undertones, Mentions of Slavery (Aventurine), Memory Loss Themes (Jade-related) (?).

A/N: Thank you!! <33 (Even tho this post is gonna come out later in July lol)

They called it a partnership.

But that was a generous word — more like two gamblers circling the same rigged table. You wore your grin like a blade, offered flirtation like wine, and maneuvered each conversation with calculated grace. Aventurine did the same, only louder, flashier, and with more peacock feathers.

You liked him because you couldn’t read him. That terrified you.

"You're not charming me, darling," he said once with a grin as you tipped his glass with your own. "You're working me. I respect that."

"And you’re not laughing," you replied, "you’re listening for lies in the rhythm of my breath."

And so, the dance continued.

He watched you with those eyes — maddening, beautiful, cold. But you were better than he was. You had to be. For the sake of your faction. For the sake of control.

Until the night the power went out aboard the Penacony charter. You were stuck in a corridor, hemmed in by emergency lights and shadows. It was supposed to be another brief, calculated meeting. Instead, the silence dragged.

“Do you know,” Aventurine said softly, “I used to count cards to survive. But you? You count people. Even I don’t know what your real face looks like anymore.”

You laughed. Hollow. You didn’t want him to be right.

“Neither do I.”

It was out before you could stop it.

He didn’t smile. That’s what frightened you most. He just stared.

“You don’t have to be anyone else,” he said. “I’ve lied for so long, I thought I’d lost myself too. But it turns out, the masks rot slower when someone’s looking underneath.”

And for the first time, you wanted him to see you — the broken pieces beneath the plastic smile. But the truth was…

“If you love me, Aventurine,” you whispered, “you’ll fall in love with a lie. I don’t know how to stop lying. Even now, I’m wondering if I’m saying this because I mean it… or because it’s what you want to hear.”

He stepped forward, removing one of his many rings, and pressed it into your hand.

“Then let’s gamble. One lie. One truth. We’ll raise the stakes, every day, until you remember who you are underneath all this.”

“And if I lose?”

Topaz didn’t like inefficiency.

“Then we’ll both burn. But at least we’ll burn real.”

You were inefficient — charming, yes, useful often, but disorganized in the way that only a person with a hundred identities and no center could be.

You lied so well you forgot what truth sounded like.

But you respected her. She saw through numbers the way others saw through glass. She didn’t flirt, didn’t soften — but she noticed everything.

So when she asked you why your projected results didn’t align with your emotional affect on clients, you almost snapped. Almost.

“Maybe I’m just a really good liar,” you said, leaning back. “Flirting is profitable, Topaz. And emotions? They’re expensive.”

She stared at you. Not coldly — just... sharply.

“That doesn’t explain the variance in consistency. You’re burning yourself out to maintain illusions no one’s asking for.”

You didn’t reply. Not really. You just smiled and offered a joke.

Weeks passed. You kept pushing forward. Faction first. Feelings later.

Until the day she called you into her office and slid a report across the desk — your psychological audit. One you hadn’t authorized.

“You didn’t file for burnout support,” she said. “But I ran the numbers anyway. You’re lying to yourself more than you are to us.”

“That’s invasion of privacy.”

“That’s concern. I care, and I don’t know why I care, but I do.”

It wasn’t a declaration. It was a disruption.

You cracked.

“I don’t know who I am, Topaz,” you whispered. “I haven’t for a long time. Everything I do, everything I say... it’s all scaffolding. Half the time I’m not sure if I’m manipulating people or trying to convince myself I exist.”

She walked around the desk, stopped in front of you, and tilted your chin up with just two fingers.

“Then let me help you audit that,” she said. “We’ll subtract the lies. Add what’s real. Balance the books of you. Together.”

You laughed. It hurt.

But maybe, for the first time in years, it was true.

You once joked to Jade that the only thing the two of you hadn’t traded yet was your souls.

She didn’t laugh.

That was Jade — beautiful and terrifying, clinical and magnetic. You adored her in the way dangerous things were adored: reverently, fearfully, obsessively.

Your flirtations with her were careful — like sliding gold coins across her velvet table. She never flirted back, but the way her eyes narrowed, the way her sentences clipped — it made you feel seen. Understood.

That was the worst part.

“You don’t actually enjoy this,” she said once, during one of your many pseudo-negotiations. “Pretending. You’ve made it your currency, but you loathe it.”

“We all sell what we have, Lady Bonajade.”

“But not everyone hates the customer.”

You said nothing. She didn’t press.

But she watched you for weeks. Studied your smiles. Noted the micro-hesitations in your voice, the way you adjusted your collar when a conversation grew too honest.

Until one evening in the Bonajade Exchange, when she offered you a trade: not a memory, not a future.

“Let me see your truth,” she said. “One hour. No lies. No masks. I’ll pay whatever price you ask.”

You faltered.

And in that hesitation, she saw everything.

You broke. There in that perfumed, smoky room, amidst the weight of every false promise you’d ever made.

“I don’t want to be loved,” you confessed. “Because I don’t know how to be anything but a liar. And if someone loves that, what does that make me?”

She stood, removed her glove, and pressed her bare hand to your cheek.

“You are more than your methods. More than your performance. But if you truly cannot believe that... then let me believe it for you.”

“And what do you want in return?”

“Nothing. This is not a trade. This is a gift.”

You had never been given anything without a catch before.

And maybe — just maybe — that was the most terrifying bargain of all.

[nartothelar]

I just had a thought while thinking about your possession au.

So I know you posted some joke art about Ingo confronting a Zoroark acting as his (possessed) brother, but what if the Zoroark WAS trying this time.

So imagine ; Ingo with maybe Lady Sneasler and Irida walking through the Alabaster Icelands, and they get confronted with a Zoroark. It takes Emmet's form and starts terrorizing Ingo, taunting him with "You'd never hurt me!" and everything F!Emmet said before.

And Irida watches as Ingo, her cool and collected if a tad lost warden just... shrink back in fear.

Now just about any sane person would be afraid of a Zoroark, but she can tell that this is MUCH more than just that. This is *personal*. He normally never hesitates fighting Zoroarks when they take the forms of others, but this time he is terrified of hurting the man behind the illusion, and of the man himself.

Judging from everything the illusion of Emmet is shouting (even illusions and how they behave have *some* truth to them), and the way Ingo is terrified, she deduces that maybe the place or family Ingo originally came from wasn't ideal, to say the least. Ingo frantically telling Irida that he loves his supposed abuser only reaffirms her concerns.

Eventually, this becomes somewhat of an open secret among both clans that Ingo's 'man in white' is, to say the least, not good. And how is Ingo supposed to dispute that? He loves this person, and he vaguely feels protective of him, but he also feels afraid whenever he think of him.

Cue Emmet somehow getting into Hisui.

For some extra angst, he took care of his F!Emmet situation, somehow. (Maybe when they both went to Dialga to go to Hisui, he went 'wait a moment, you're not supposed to be there' and separated them)

Naturally, when Irida finds out that the man in white is actually here, she panics. Everyone tries to a. Keep Emmet from finding out Ingo is even here (which doesn't work, he came here KNOWING Ingo is here so he can tell everyones lying to him), b. Know Emmet's location at all times, so that c. They can steer Ingo in the opposite direction of where Emmet is, for his own safety until they can either get Emmet to go back to where he came from, or do some (incredibly biased) investigation.

Cause Sinnoh help them if Emmet IS actually as bad as they suspect, cause if he is even half as good as Ingo, then the amount of people who could potentially stop him can he counted on one hand.

Sure, he SEEMS nice if a tad intense, worrying about his brother, but who's to say he's not just a good actor?

I dunno, maybe the climax is Emmet finding Ingo but the Ingo protection squad (consisting of Irida, Sneasler, etc.) is keeping him back and throwing the not completely baseless accusations at Emmet, him saying "hey I was possessed by a future alternate version of myself, but hes gone now I swear" ("well that's awfully convenient"), and Ingo has NO IDEA what do to (cause he said that once, didn't he? He said that the thing was gone, but then it wasn't, so he has no idea if he can fully trust him or not).

OR, F!Emmet arrives still in Emmet's body and just starts tearing through everything to find Ingo. He's an unstoppable force that will not stop until he finds his brother. And he is nearly everything that Zoroark showed Irida. They are desperately trying to keep Ingo away from him, to no avail.

What're your thoughts on this? Do with all this what you want, and thanks for reading my rant.

OK SO THIS WOULDN'T BE CANON PER SAY (more like an offshoot au?) BUT SOME INTROSPECTION ->

so i might have explored this very idea in a couple of discord dms! but for the most part, yes, ingo would be very much scared of the man in white/the zoroark since his last days with emmet were very much tainted with future emmet's influence, but i wouldn't say f!emmet went so far as to abuse him - emotionally torment for sure tho. still, ingo would very much react, even with amnesia, with a sense of fear and apprehension to seeing him. mixed and very confusing feelings

when emmet does finally get to ingo in hisui in the actual au, him and his future self has actually teamed up (as the last installation suggests). that isn't to say emmet is angry at his future self (bc he is FURIOUS even now at how his future self treated ingo and made the last few weeks he had with his sibling so miserable for everyone) but they have a sort of ceasefire since they want the same thing rn

but similar to your ask, ingo doesn't react positively. he still doesn't remember much but he knows that: 1) he knows this figure and that he is someone important to him 2) does not want any harm to come to him 3) he, for the life of him, is scared of him. the clan is rightfully ultra suspicious of them and maybe puts him on watch (and maybe subjecting him to various interrogative talks to get him to explain everything) that the emmets accept without much fight -> f!emmet feeling extremely guilty for what he has done and believes he deserves the treatment/deserves to not be forgiven + emmet knows that the clan is protecting his brother and can't fault them for handling the way they do

f!emmet and emmet both have a lot of work to do if they want things to go back to the way they were, if they even can

BUT YEAH VERRRRRRRY LONG RAMBLE BUT VERRRY INTERESTING NONETHELESS SKSKK

[dunmeshistash]

I've been having a bunch of ideas kinda float around my mind like little screensavers that I didn't feel like putting on paper, but one of these ideas just so happened to hit a corner, and it gave me an idea for what might perhaps be a bit of a silly (and oddly specific) question, but one I was very interested in asking nonetheless. Especially after reading your long post on the Demon's perspective of Laios' backstory. I really hope you don't mind.

While my memory's a tad blurry on how the scene played out in detail, I still find Laios' confrontation with the demon to be one of my favorite scenes. Definitely top 5. It's the one where Laios secretly orders Izutsumi to execute him at the slightest hint of suspicion. That one. I think that scene is among my favorites because it's both a perfect demonstration of Laios' remarkable cleverness hidden underneath all that lack of social skills, but it's also the perfect demonstration of how utterly terrifying the demon is.

At first I was under the assumption that Laios had it all under control, but the Demon's frighteningly gentle with how he twists Laios' very thoughts in a way that frames him as some sort of misanthropist, and the Winged Lion's words seemingly foil whatever plan Laios may have had. It made me think that Laios had failed, and Izutsumi's orders to lob his head off may have been a fail safe because he didn't know if he could successfully thwart the Demon's plans.

However, after finishing the story, extras, etc; I started thinking that perhaps failing was all part of Laios' plan, too. At least partially. Perhaps he realised that the only way to outsmart and ultimately best the Demon, was to let the Demon win. Perhaps he concluded that the only way for him to stand a chance against the Demon was to lose, to be at the Demon's mercy, to have his words utterly twisted; because he couldn't just make the demon "think" he had won. The only way for the Demon, the embodiment of hunger, to think he had won, was for him to actually win.

Maybe he ordered Izutsumi to… how do you put it… "artificially shorten his lifespan" because he knew the Demon would use his love for monsters against him, and would manipulate him into wishing to become the Ultimate Strongest Monster. His recent addendum (that the Ultimate Strongest Monster can eat desires) seems to support this theory, if I remember correctly. However, I can't remember for certain. Maybe his plan was to trap the Demon in his body and kill it that way? I genuinely can't remember.

So, I was wondering if you'd be interested in answering this oddly specific and mildly stupid question: How much of Laios' interaction with the Demon was planned, and how much was him fucking around and finding out? I'd love to know your thoughts on this!

PS: Laios rocks the swag he dons as king. Would happily serve under him. PPS: I hope you have a wonderful rest of your week, Mr. Morbius! Thank you for this awesome blog. You're cool.

Hello!!!!! Yeah!!!!!! The question Kabru himself would rather not know!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Same as Kabru I decided not to think too hard about but Kui definitely gave us hints that this could be the case, I don't think Laios "planned" to fail from the start, he strikes me as a very optimistic guy (as you can see with how he first thought the confrontation with Thistle could go and how he STILL tried to talk to him instead of fighting) but I think he did "prepare" somewhat for the worst case scenario, hoping for the best but preparing for the worst?

Like I don't think this part of his plan was a misdirection I think he really hoped it could be this simple? So this was plan A (although he realizes this is too optimistic I think he hopes it will work)

This part tho I'm pretty sure was partly a misdirection for his teammates, since he asks them to help him get his mind back only to tell Izutsumi to kill him at the smallest hint he lost his mind, so I think this was plan B as in "If I become the lord of the dungeon kill me so there's no more dungeon lord" which was the original canary plan

Which again is kinda confirmed by this thought bubble

I think this was plan C

He knew he no longer wished for a country where humans and monsters could coexist (because of what he saw) so I guess he had *some* idea that becoming a monster was his other wish and added that as a fail safe if plan A and B failed? I don't think he could have guessed the Demon would use his body but maybe he thought he could use the nature of the demon against him (granting his desire to become a monster even tho the monster can eat him)

As Marcille and Kabru realize tho, that might all be a coincidence and he really thought plan A or B would work lmao. WHO KNOWS Laios' mind is a mystery

I'd recommend rereading chapter 88 if you want to go thru Laios' whole plan and how the demon manipulated him, it's a great chapter (87 too with the demon origin story)

[starrycloak]

inspired by this post by @miwiheroes

"Learning that it is "okay" not to be in a relationship when ur gay is a fine message, and it's realistic - but this is a TV show where its main theme is Love Always Wins. This line clearly meant to show that Will accepting himself includes loving Mike, not excluding it."

doubters (and detractors alike) should remember that, believe it or not, seeing romantic love save the day in Stranger Things is actually long overdue.

Season 1: it was Joyce's familial/motherly love for Will, Hop's love and grief for his daughter driving him to save Will, El's seedlings of platonic love for the party (and viceversa), and whatever was going on in all directions amongst the monster hunting trio (the nature of that love at that point is a bit confusing to me, but it wasn't all romance) what came to the rescue.

gif by @/megscherries

Season 2: it was the Byers's familial love for Will, El and Hopper's familal love (+El's memory of terry —ymmv—), the extended party's platonic love for one another, and the love and compassion between Dustin and Dart.

gif by @/lizmaximoff

(no, I'm not forgetting about miwi's love for one another in s2 and its climax, but I think we're yet to learn what the nature of their love was in the shed scene. I don't think I could categorize it as strictly romantic or strictly platonic yet.)

Season 3: once again, it was platonic and familial love between the extended party (honorable mentions to Jonathan performing surgery on El + Hopper's —and billy's ig, even tho his repentment was honest but it didn't happen til the last moment so he didn't really redeem himself— heroic sacrifice), and oh, Dustin and Suzie's romantic love (first instance ever of romantic love saving the day, yet it was a small contribution and kind of played for laughs.)

Season 4: I think we all can agree that love DIDN'T save the day (i.e. The Piggyback), not really, but there were some positive, albeit lowkey, contributions by team russia's platonic love (in battle), Dustin and Eddie's platonic/familiar love, and Nancy, Robin and Steve's also platonic love. Team Creel House had a combination of familial love (Lucas and Erica) and romantic love (lumax). The takeaway isn't that their love for one another wasn't strong enough to save the day, though, but that exterior circumstances were out to get them and pushed them off the edge. Hate got the upper hand, but not by absence or uncertainty of love.

What happened to the Calicrew in Season 4, on the other hand was, of course, the direct opposite of that, save from El's meeting with Max and then managing to restart her heart (platonic love... and self-love. El's self-love by remembering and embracing her own identity as a whole, shedding the layers of guilt and fear that weren't her own, and Max's will to stay alive while terrified of death, so unlike the girl who thought she deserved it. It's a flicker of hope.) Mike's romantic monologue to El, however. Not gonna beat a dead horse today: there's probably hundreds of metas that explain why it's full of lies and half-truths, why it existing was/will continue to be hurtful for both El and Mike, and why we can totally tell THAT wasn't what gave El strenght to get out of the vines —before barely decimating Vecna, keep in mind. Romantic love specially, specifically, DID NOT save the day.

So, I wonder, what could possibly stop the Love Always Wins show from also including romantic love as one of the Big Heroic Themes next season, by the hand of characters whose individual arcs are so connected to the idea it's not even a reachable dream for them?

gif by @/chrispythismorning

as long as self-love, a frankly neglected/yet-to-be-concluded theme in most of our ensemble cast's arcs, especially in our three mains, comes first imo.

[luna-loveboop]

Wanted to share some thoughts, cause I NEED TO SHARE IT. (Though it might be quite obvious, yeah...)

So, the whole thing with Warriors acting more stern with Wild lately. One could think: "Why just Wild? Hyrule can be quite reckless sometimes, and Wind is THE BABY, so why not them too?"

Well, there's one thing that they don't have, but Wild sure does...luck of self-preservation.

Wars can trust that others, even IF they let emotions take over, would still try to avoid DYING.

WILD WILL NOT. This fella uses his FACE as a SHIELD for ANOTHER PERSON, when there's NO NEED FOR THIS, while being in his "right mind".

SO WHAT CAN YOU EXPECT OF HIM, WHEN HE LOOSES HIS MIND IN A STRESSFUL SITUATION?

Wars still gave him the benefit of the doubt for a while, but after this whole fiasco with Twi's injury - Wars just can not help it, he FEARS for Wild's well-being, because "Champ" himself DOES NOT (with his whole "failure of a hero" thing, I presume).

And how does one even adress it? I doubt Wars saw many people who didn't care about their life before, he was at war, usually people want TO SURVIVE there. He's on edge cause he sees a problem and has no idea how to aproach it.

I want to preface this by saying I have a severe inability to stay on topic but yeah let's talk about it.

So you touched on something me and Jesse have both touched on- that Wars' actions towards Wild come from a place of concern and fear. I think that this is true. Wild DOES lack self-preservation instincts, and Wars has to be afraid of losing him- of the young knight earning more scars. Wild can be an idiot sometimes, but Wars saw him lose his head and attack the shadow when it was just proved to be lethal more than they knew.

There's a difference of perspective between ours and the boys tho that is important and I think contributes to people judging wars for this. See, to Wars perspective, and all of the boys, they could die at any time. An injury could be fatal and they can't see the future. We however KNOW that Wild survives, because we know he goes on to tears of the kingdom. We know Jojo has said that he is reckless and will get himself hurt but always comes out of it. But Wars has watched a billion (<exaggeration) soldiers die and is terrified of it happening again. Whereas we watch the comic from the outside, knowing for certain Wild will make it, Wars is living out that reality harshly.

ANoThER thing I think people forget to account for is Wars is not just a captain, he's a soldier but also leader in an army. I'm not the best with phrasing sometimes so I'll try to say this well- people in the army don't always get to be nice. Oftentimes armies have very harsh environments in treatment towards soldiers because when it comes down to training and life and death there is no time for niceties or feelings. Wars was pushed into the most major promotion ever pretty much to be an army leader. If he's now in the mindset of viewing Wild as a fellow knight/soldier who is not a leader... angry words and facial expressions is pretty mild to be honest.

Wars is a really nice person for all he's gone through, but fighting in a war is a very different experience than a solo journey like the others had. I think it's time to acknowledge that he was forced into far more of a role than the pretty hero, but also an armies leader, and it takes a lot of work to be a nice person through all that. Wars is a nice person who has a ton of strength to be so kind after all he's been through and his actions towards Wild make sense considering his past with what journey he came from. Thank you for coming to my ted talk- no I'm not done.

If anything I said was in any way offensive let me know. I hope my words didn't somehow come across as harsh.

Although him (in a way) treating Wild as someone who is out of line is understandable given his past, it's still not excusable. Wild isn't a soldier and he's not the leader.

Now for Wild time I'm going totally of the rails let's go

Wild doesn't. Yeah ok Wild doesn't like Wars. I've made like. Fifteen thousand nine hundred and fifty two posts on this (<big exaggeration). Wild has not really... spoken to Wars throughout the Lu storyline, tho he did in some of Jojo's starting doodles. Wild has really only spoken to Wars since it all went down when mr. stubborn got injured. I think Wild has a lot of resentment towards Wars for being the knight he was supposed to- who succeeded. Wild has flat out ignored Wars a lot of the time and honestly I'd get pretty frustrated with that too.

Also I along with the other nine hundred people want Wars to trigger an army memory in Wild. For the angst.

Wars is wrong in how he's acting towards Wild and Wild is wrong in how he's treated Wars not as someone worthy of respect. It's hard to pinpoint what's going on in Wild's head but I DO know Wars thoughts- he's terrified for Wild's life and angry that he ignored him and fought the shadow.

But yeah you're right. Wild has no self preservation instincts and Wars can't rely on him to freaking stay alive. Thank you for sending me an ask and sharing your thoughts with me!!! You matter and I love hearing from you /gen <3

Also. Let's make this clear. I love Wars so much. So very much. He's literally a fairy godmother. No hating on him or Wild on my posts. Thank :D

[izanna]

I’m taking over this theory since I helped with it, I will not tolerate hate or harassment from EITHER side of the ships. If you are an Elriel and you don’t like this theory, MOVE ON. It was made in fun to troll and then we found merit in it and actually had fun with it.

If you are a GA and you don’t like this theory

That’s okay but respectfully move the fuck on, yall didn’t wanna claim it until we did this.

And for anyone who comes at me saying because that would make Gwyn evil and the evil elriels only said it to make Gwyn evil, a vast majority of elriels do not think Gwyn is evil even if she is a LS.

The current and most recent theory is that LightSingers will probably be like Suriel. Misunderstood because that is what SJM does commonly with her creatures.

A vast majority of elriels believe Gwyn if she is a lightsinger does not know and her powers are unintended.

While my friend did write this up; the hate she received was unjustified and disgraceful from every side. So I will take it all. if you're going to be rude, say it with your chest. my asks are open, and you can comment all you want. I won't respond to anons tho ;) you might as well be invisible dirt to me if you ask anything hateful anonymously.

Link for the OG theory post down below. 👇🏼

Now, obviously, there isn’t solid evidence for this, but hear me out. Lightsingers are described as lovely, ethereal beings—charming, beautiful, seemingly harmless. They can lure someone into their trap. Which, okay, is not something Elain has done yet, but let’s be real—if anyone in this series has the range to be cute and terrifying at the same time, it’s her.

And if we’re going with the idea that each Archeron sister has a symbolic “sister peak” to conquer—Feyre’s was Under the Mountain, Nesta’s was Ramiel—then Elain’s might be the Prison. Which would make a lot of sense if she had some kind of power to soothe or control the monsters lurking inside.

Another thing about Elain is that she is always associated with light. She’s the loveliest and most beautiful of the Archeron sisters, the one described as “a face that could bring kings to their knees.” And yet, despite all of this delicate imagery, we know she’s capable of violence when necessary. Perhaps not as a warrior with a sword, but with her own deadly ability.

Which brings me to the thing that made this theory really click for me: the phrase from the Book of Breathings that’s been haunting me. Love me. Touch me. Sing me. Feyre is love. Nesta is touch. And Elain… is sing.

Think about how Truth-Teller was described as a “bridge” between light and dark, between death and the lovely fawn. Azriel, a literal shadowsinger, paired with Elain, a lightsinger? Two beings who balance each other in ways no one else could? It’s the ultimate yin-yang dynamic, two sides of the same coin, opposites that only make sense together.

And this is where it gets even more interesting. In House of Sky and Breath, there’s a moment where a six-pointed star is described: “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

That six-pointed star represents balance—two forces that seem opposite but are, in truth, complementary. And when we apply that same concept to the ACOTAR world, we get something eerily familiar: the three sisters and the three brothers. Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian, Elain and Azriel. All of them marked by power in some way, by a connection to darkness and light, by abilities that—when combined—could be necessary for something far greater in either this next book or the one after it.

One last thing to think on: in ACOWAR, Feyre looks at a painting she once made of the Spring Court and realizes, “The painting was a lie. A bright, pretty lie, bursting with pale pink blooms and fat beams of sunshine.” What if that line wasn’t just about the Spring Court? What if it was foreshadowing Elain? A character who appears soft and lovely and warm—who is those things—but who also holds something capable of darkness beneath the surface? The whole “fanged beast and trembling fawn” duality?

I don’t know. I just think it would be so interesting. We’d understand more about lightsingers and shadowsingers, we’d get to see a whole different side of Elain, and it would cement her and Azriel as two halves of a whole. Light and Darkness. Not just opposites, but the kind of opposites that cannot exist without each other.

The true fated pair.

[giveafike]

omg ty that was sooo cute n well written 🥲 what about they’ve been dating for a little while n she’s got a great game but she gets stuck on her serve sometimes, so ben teaches her his technique and then she wins her next match - then i’ll leave u alone promise 😂

TLDR: Part 2 from Game, Set, Match (here if you haven't read the first part) Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton LAUNCHING each other, triple date, overcoming insecurity and learning with each other <33.

EDIT: part 3 here!

Word count + info: 7.1k! SUPERRRR LONG!!! Dialogue, instagram comments etc.

Character Inspo: Once again, for tennisplayer!fem reader, I envisioned a bit of a bratty, sassy, cheeky, funny girl. In this, she gets vulnerable tho. Visually, I gravitated towards a mix of Tashi Duncan and Tyla. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW (suggestive themes - nothing explicit/ NSFW) - no warnings

Azzie Notes ✚: heheheehee I'll blush! ask as many times you want! trust me there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing than writing my little fake scenarios and daydreaming <3 In saying that, I’m begging for my desi women to request a desi imagine 😞 Please, please give me some inspo so I can get into my element.

The support and attention pt. 1 got was genuinely so heartwarming, seeing the couple of reblogs and tags and comments meant sm to me, massive thank you for your support <333 kisses to all of u!!

————————————————————————

Game, Set, Match (Part 2) - B.T.S

Time with Ben flew by in a blur of stolen moments after your first date, before you knew it, it had been close to a year since you first started dating. Between matches and games, you both rearranged photoshoots and postponed interviews just for the chance to spend even a few hours together, sneaking in time wherever possible. Naturally, speculation followed. Paparazzi snapped glimpses of you at gas stations, and fans posted short, blurry videos on TikTok and Twitter of your late-night drives. One clip even sparked rumours of lipstick stains on Ben’s face while driving, barely visible in the shadows. What they missed were the hickeys trailing down his neck, hidden beneath his crumpled t-shirt, evidence of the stolen moments just before. You both laughed at the videos and sometimes interacted, keeping everyone on the outside guessing.

Truthfully, you wanted to savour this feeling for yourself a little longer before it became the latest headline. You had travelled the world, met some of your heroes, performed in front of thousands but nothing felt as exhilarating as this.

You felt young, carefree, and most importantly, yourself. With Ben, there were no PR restrictions, no expectations, just the thrill of being together. Running through hotel halls at midnight, sneaking off for food at ungodly hours like two big backs, lying down in closed parks whispering sweet nothings under the stars; it all felt so raw, so pure. You were smitten with puppy love for each other. You’d take long, aimless drives, rapping and singing bar for bar, holding hands while the world outside blurred by. With Ben, life felt like one endless adventure. You had broken the news to your close circles of friends and family, but not anyone outside. The hardest part though was resisting PDA at public games and events. You almost slipped up during an interview, calling him your 'boyfriend' before catching yourself, covering with 'boy-best-friend' and a sweet smile. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but not quite the truth either. You knew sooner or later, you’d have to make it official and that idea was both exciting and terrifying.

After some plotting, you decided on a soft launch first, acclimatising your audience to it. You and your team were pros at staying active online, and it fit perfectly with your social media presence. For TikTok and Instagram Reels, you posted a 'Day in the Life' vlog - clips of your skincare routine, a fit-check featuring a white, sleeveless high-neck tennis dress with forest green accents that cinched your waist, and a casual lunch. But for those paying close attention, there were clues, Ben’s cologne on the bathroom counter, his duffel bag in the background, his laugh echoing faintly in the background during lunch. Of course, some people picked it up after some time.

Ben couldn’t resist teasing either, replying under a clip of your lunch, 'Who’s taking you on a lunch date?'

You shot back, 'A big-backed loser who ate his own food and then stole from my plate .'

One fan commented, 'Wait, is that Ben’s gym bag in the shot?!?!' to which you cheekily replied, 'Where? that ugly, uninspired black bag?' Ben couldn’t resist adding: "That bag has seen more wins than your TikTok views."

Another comment pointed out the Polo 67 cologne in the background: 'That’s definitely not your scent, Y/N. Whose cologne is that?' You replied, 'Some desperate fanboy left it here. Sweet guy tho ig."

The playful back-and-forth only fueled more speculation, with fans buzzing, 'Wait, is this a soft launch!!', 'I'm tellin' yall, it's Ben', "Am I reaching or is Y/N pulling smth here? collab?"

You both laughed, curled up in bed, scrolling through the comments like a pair of idiots. Two weeks later, it was time for the hard launch.

Ben stifled a laugh as he leaned back on the bed, the duvet lazily draped across his hips. "Y/N, stop overthinking it," he teased, leaning over to plant a kiss on your forehead. Meanwhile, you sat cross-legged, agonising over which photos to post, what caption to use, and whether or not the launch would feel and look perfect; not nonchalant but not too much either. He made it look easy, Ben had his post prepped and ready to go like the sappy man he was, while you were knee-deep in hundreds of photos, searching for the right one to tell your story.

You scrolled through the shots, a smile tugging at your lips as you relive the memories, silly videos, 0.5x candids, live photos of him in goofy poses. Then, one image stopped you. A simple photobooth strip from a date you’d gone on together: four black-and-white shots, each capturing a different moment. The first one had you both flipping the camera off with cheeky smiles, his arm over your shoulder. The next, Ben was kissing your cheek, while in the third, you kissed his, making him grin wide with his gummy smile, his eyes crinkling in joy. The last photo was pure gold. You kissed each other, his hands cupping your face gently, tucking your hair back as he held your jaw while your fingers curled around his shoulders as if you didn’t want to let go. Both of you smiled into the kiss, eyes closed, fully in the moment. It was perfect, effortless.

You sighed, knowing this was the photo. It said everything, no need for several pictures to make a statement. You thought for a moment before you typed out a simple caption that summed it up: "Turns out I'm not the only one with game, @benshelton"

Ben, sitting opposite you, smirked and was the first to comment followed by a few others.

benshelton: "I love you so very much"

yourfriendusername: " 'bout time y'all launched"

ayan.broomfield: "Oh you ate with the caption. Me and Frances are screaming rn"

"Nice caption, loser" he chuckled as he beckoned you over to him. You crawled over to Ben with a shy smile, curling up on his chest as his post was uploading.

Ben’s post was a blend of personal, fun, and a little bit cheeky, a video recorded by his sister, Emma of you two playing tug-of-war with his dog Halo at his house, giggling uncontrollably as the dog barked, tail wagging furiously. A candid photo of you leaning over into his side of the car, his smile half-hidden as he laughed from the driver seat, one hand on the wheel. Then a shot of you both in matching hoodies, his idea, of course, followed by a serene moment of you standing on a seaside cliff, both gazing out at the ocean during a quiet getaway. Lastly, a photo of you two kissing on a picnic blanket, your hand on his face, and his smile beaming into your kiss.

You looked up at him and kissed his cheek as the likes and comments came flooding in.

His caption read “Her biggest fan, my biggest distraction”.

taylorfritz: "So nice of Y/N to take pics with her fans. So humble"

↳ Y/N.Y/LN: "Always a pleasure, this one was a little weird tho"

↳ benshelton: "shut up"

francestiafoe: "Finally upgraded from being the 5th wheel to being in the driver’s seat."

↳ benshelton: "Been driving this whole time, you just didn’t notice"

_emmashelton: "Wow, Ben finally found someone to put up with his snoring???"

↳Y/N.Y/LN: "The snoring I can handle, but the random sleeptalking tennis commentary at 3 AM?"

↳benshelton: "💀 I’m deleting this post."

morganriddle: "No more babysitting you with Taylor now!"

atptour: "Ben’s doing better off the court than on lately 👀"

↳benshelton: "No distractions, just love. But thanks for the shade, ATP"

↳Y/N.Y/LN: "His best ATP title to date: my boyfriend <3"

As you typed your last reply, Ben set his phone aside and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer until your body was flush against his. He kissed the top of your head before his lips began to trail softly down your temple. You tossed your phone to the other side of the bed, locking eyes with him. His curls were messier now, and the glint in his eyes told you exactly what he was thinking.

"Y’know..." Ben murmured, his voice dipping lower as he traced his fingers along the curve of your jaw, then down your neck, sending a shiver through you. His other hand slipped under your t-shirt, resting on your bare waist, his thumb making lazy circles on your skin. "We don’t have anything planned until later… and you look so damn good right now."

His lips grazed your neck, slow and deliberate, before pressing soft kisses there. You tilted your head to the side and swept your hair back, letting him have his way as your fingers tangled in his curls, a small gasp escaped your lips as he nipped lightly at your skin.

"Shouldn’t we… celebrate?" you whispered, your breath hitching as he found the spot that made you melt, his hands guiding your body closer to his. "I mean, we did make some big news."

Ben didn’t reply with words. Instead, he hummed softly against your neck before gently flipping you beneath him. His lips captured yours in a heated, intoxicating kiss, his hand sliding up your shirt, fingertips grazing your soft skin. Your bodies pressed together, the heat building as you giggled into the kiss, knowing exactly where this was headed.

The rest of the day went in a haze of cuddles, stolen kisses, and binge-watching your favourite shows and movies. By evening, it was time to get ready for your triple date with Taylor Fritz and Morgan Riddle, and Frances Tiafoe with Ayan Broomfield. While the guys had bonded at ATP events, you were still the "newbie" among the girls, though Ayan and Morgan had taken you under their wing almost immediately, forming a tight trio.

You slipped into something special for the evening, a stunning black satin dress that hugged your curves perfectly. The backless design draped elegantly, the slit at the thigh adding just the right amount of allure, and the low cut bringing even more drama to the fabric. The soft fabric shimmered slightly under the light which you paired with black stiletto heels and a slickback ponytail.

Ben couldn’t stop staring when you stepped out of the bathroom. He’d matched your elegance effortlessly, wearing a button-up, the top two buttons undone to reveal silver chains around his neck, and his silver Rolex twinkling in the light.

"Wow," he said softly, taking in the sight of you. His gaze lingered on the curve of your back, the way the dress dipped and shimmered. "You’re killing me, babe."

You smirked, stepping up to him and straightening his collar as you teased, "And you’re not looking too bad yourself"

Ben leaned down, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. "I’d say we’re a pretty damn good match."

Arriving just a bit fashionably late (thanks to Ben’s lingering hands and his desperation) you entered the rooftop bar together. He had one hand securely around your waist, guiding you smoothly through the entrance, his hand holding yours as you walked up the stairs in your heels. The city lights twinkled around you, setting the perfect mood for the evening.

When you made it to the table, everyone was already waiting, Ayan and Morgan squealed in excitement the moment they saw you, rushing to hug you.

"You look amazing!" Ayan said, practically bouncing on her heels as she pulled you into a tight embrace.

Morgan stepped back to admire your outfit with a knowing smile. "How's Ben behaving?"

"Trust me, he's already a challenge," you replied feigning annoyance, earning a playful giggle from the two of them before they caught you up on recent gossip.

The boys, of course, couldn’t resist teasing Ben the moment he arrived. Taylor clapped him on the back while Frances laughed, giving him a knowing look.

"So... you finally made it official," Taylor teased, drawing out the word with a grin.

Frances grinned. "Big Ben’s had this all under control, right? Didn't need a little push from us? At all?" He threw a playful punch at Ben’s arm.

"Yeah, yeah," Ben said with an eye roll, but his smile betrayed him. "Now you guys can all stop making fun of me!"

Settling into your seats with Ben beside you, the night was filled with laughter and conversation, the six of you effortlessly clicking as a group. You could feel the warmth from Ayan and Morgan, who made you feel like you’d been part of their circle for ages. The easy, fun, teasing banter between everyone only made the night more fun, and as you sipped on cocktails and shared tapas, you couldn’t help but glance over at Ben every now and then, feeling the pull between you two all over again.

The table was lively as usual, laughter spilling over from one side to the next. Frances and Taylor had already made it a mission to tease Ben relentlessly.

“You know, I’m glad you’ve finally got a date,” Taylor said with a smirk, swirling his wine. “For a while, we were worried you were just gonna hang around like a lost puppy.”

Frances chimed in, throwing a playful arm around Ayan. “Yeah, man, it’s about time you stopped being the spare wheel. Now you’re in.”

Ben rolled his eyes but squeezed your hand. “You guys act like I was suffering. I’m pretty sure Y/N was worth the wait.”

Morgan chimed in. “Oh, don't worry Ben, we tease because we care. But seriously, you were giving big lone wolf, single energy for a while. It’s nice to see you two together. You’re like, the new ultimate power couple.”

Ayan nodded, glancing between you and Ben with a smile. “Seriously, though. We all knew it was only a matter of time. And I gotta say, Y/N, you bring out a whole new side of him.”

You laughed, raising a brow as you turned to Ben. “A new side? Should I be worried?”

Ben grinned, shaking his head. “Nothing you can’t handle, I promise.”

As the night continued, the conversation drifted between shared stories of travel, upcoming tournaments, and off-court gossip. Dinner had been fun, the usual banter between your friends, but that one offhanded comment had sucked the air right out of the room for you.

“So, Y/N,” Frances grinned, swirling his whiskey glass, “you ready for the Open? It’s gonna be tough seeing Navarro again after she got the best of you last time, huh?”

Your eyes went wide for a moment before you laughed it off, taking a small sip of your drink and brushing it aside as if it hadn’t landed as a smack with the weight of a brick. "It was just one match," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. But the words felt hollow in your mouth.

But inside, everything collapsed.

Navarro hadn’t just beaten you. She’d dismantled you. Something over the past few months felt like a mental block, like you were slowing down but this match? It didn't just slow you down, it blew you out of the water completely. Her aggressive baseline play came with heat, her ability to push you wide on every shot, forcing you to scramble and defend, and it all came rushing back. You could rewind the entire match all over again in your head, watching points fly from you. You had no answer to her consistency, her precision. And her serve, you could still feel the frustration of trying to return them, each one faster and sharper than the last. Your own serve had crumbled under the pressure, double fault after double fault.

What was worse was you remembered how the crowd had watched you, narrow-eyed, the press merciless afterwards, dissecting every moment of your failure. You’d walked onto the court that day full of confidence, only to be torn apart and exposed, your weaknesses on full display.

That match haunted you, but you hadn’t allowed yourself to dwell on it or process it. Instead, you buried it beneath a whirlwind of distractions; endless empty hours of practice, late nights out at clubs, and drinks flowing as you tried to drown the doubt. Social media posts curated to show your best self, brand deals, and sponsorships filling your time so you wouldn't have to confront the anxiety gnawing at the edges. You hid behind the glamour, the glitz, pretending the loss hadn’t rattled you completely to your core. But sitting here at the dinner table, with your friends blissfully unaware of the storm inside you, the weight of that memory clawed its way back up and sat in your throat heavy. Every buried doubt, every insecurity, came crashing down, no longer masked by the carefully crafted image.

You smiled through it all and nodded along with the conversation, but your mind was lost, rehashing every single moment.

The taxi ride back was quiet. Ben, ever observant, didn't take long to notice the shift in your mood. He reached for your hand, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of it. "Hey, you alright?" he asked softly, his voice gentle, concern etched on his face.

You gave him a half-hearted smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "Yeah, I’m fine," you replied, but the quiver in your voice betrayed you. You bit the inside of your cheek as you turned away, facing the low hum of the city through the window.

Ben wasn’t buying it. He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his voice steady and tender, with a small smile. "Come on, baby. Talk to me. What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You hesitated, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. But Ben’s gaze never wavered, his eyes searching yours, not for the athlete, not for the public persona, but for you.

And just like that, the dam broke out from your lips.

“Ben... I—” You swallowed hard, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you’d been carrying. “That silly, stupid comment Taylor made about my last game, it just... It hit me harder than I thought-"

"Do you want me to get an apology?” he asked, his thumb brushing your chin, his expression caught between worry and protective anger.

You shook your head and sighed, shutting your eyes. "N-no, Ben. It's true, you know? I don’t feel like myself anymore. Tennis has always been who I am. And after that match against Navarro, well even a bit before that, everything just... fell apart. I don't even know who I am off the court.”

Ben turned toward you, his full attention on you now, his hands never leaving yours. He didn’t say anything, didn’t interrupt, he just let you speak, let the words spill out.

“I’ve always been so sure, so confident," you continued, your voice trembling. "I’d walk onto the court knowing I could beat anyone, or at least put up a good fight. I used to own that space. But then when it came to Navarro... she broke me. That match wasn’t just a loss. It was...embarrassing, humiliating. Every serve, every swing, it all felt wrong like my own body was betraying me. I could feel everyone watching me crumble.”

Your hands trembled as you spoke, your throat tightening, but Ben’s thumb never stopped its soothing circles on your knuckles. He was quiet, and patient, like he understood this moment wasn’t about fixing anything, it was about you finally letting it out, letting you be vulnerable and freeing your mind to him.

“I used to brush off bad days, but now... now I’m terrified. Every time I pick up my racket, I think about that match, how she exposed me, how I couldn’t handle it. I’m supposed to face her again, and I... I don’t know if I can do it.”

Tears pricked at your eyes as you tilted your head back, trying not to lose it completely. "If I lose tennis, Ben... I think I'll lose myself. It’s not just a game for me. It’s everything. Without it, I don’t know who I am.” Your voice cracks into a soft whisper as your lip trembles.

Ben leaned in, pressing soft kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, and your nose, grounding you in the moment. His hand slipped around your waist, pulling you closer until your head rested against his chest.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his breath warm against your hair. “I love you, so, so, so much. And not because of what you’ve accomplished, or your ranking, not because of tennis, or your titles, not because of your brands or sponsors. I love you. The person who’s real and flawed and strong as hell, even when you don’t feel it. The girl that keeps me on my feet, leaves me wanting for more and makes me feel like I have the whole world in my hands. Because you are my whole world, you've become that for me. I’m grateful that you’re open and raw with me, but seeing you so hurt and scared breaks my heart. I just want to hold you and make everything right again. You don’t have to face this alone, baby. You have me, I’m here for you, always. No matter what”

He gently cupped your face, turning you toward him so your eyes met. “You are more than a match. So, so much more. Navarro didn’t break you. She might’ve shaken your confidence, but that’s all. You’ve built your entire life on your talent, skill and hard work, and one bad match doesn’t erase that. You’ve been through rough times before, and you always come out stronger, baby”

You shook your head slightly, doubt still tugging at you, your eyes wide and watery, as you pouted softly. “What if I’m not good enough anymore?”

Ben smiled softly, brushing away a tear from your cheek. “You are more than good enough. I see the way you light up when you talk about the game, but I also see you. The Y/N who wakes me up with kisses, who dances around the kitchen, the Y/N who’s so smart and who cares so much about the people around her. Tennis is a part of you, but it doesn’t define you. You define you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, his presence comforting in a way nothing else had been. The tension in your chest loosened ever so slightly as you exhaled a shaky breath, resting your head against his shoulder, and squeezing your eyes shut.

“And listen,” he continued, his voice soft but sure, “when you step back on that court, it’s not just about proving anything to Navarro or to anyone else. It’s about showing yourself what you’re capable of. You’ve always been a fighter, Y/N. And I know, no matter what happens, you’ll come through and rise up.”

In the quiet of the taxi, you felt the weight on your chest begin to lift, if only a little. You curled into Ben, his hand still tracing comforting patterns along your back. For the first time in a long while, you felt seen, not as the athlete, not as the image the world expected, but as you.

By the time you got back to the hotel, exhaustion and emotion hit hard. You kicked off your heels at the door, plopping onto the sofa as the weight of everything finally crashed down on you. You let your hair down from its ponytail, feeling it cascade over your shoulders as you sighed and placed your head in your hands. The tears came without warning, silent, but heavy. They rolled down your cheeks as you sat there, your shoulders slumped, the muffled rush of your own breathing the only sound as you tried to hold it together.

Ben sat beside you, his arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. He didn’t say anything, didn’t try to fix it, he just held you close, his presence a quiet comfort in the storm of emotions. After a few moments, he pressed a kiss to your temple, the warmth of it grounding you just enough.

“You don’t have to carry all of this on your own,” he murmured softly. “I know it’s hard, but you don’t have to face it yourself.”

You swallowed hard, another wave of emotion swelling in your chest. His words felt like a release valve, a safe place to let go. “I just... I don’t know how to shake this,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “It’s like I’m drowning, and I don’t know how to come up for air.”

Ben pulled you onto his lap with his arms still holding you, his thumb brushing gentle strokes along your skin. “I’ve seen you do incredible things, Y/N. You’re not lost, you’re just stuck. And tomorrow, we’ll get back on the court. Together. I’ll help you, okay? We’ll figure this out, step by step.”

You looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of frustration or obligation. But all you saw was softness, sincerity, his deep, brown eyes full of unwavering care for you. A shaky breath left you as the idea of getting back on the court with him settled in. “You sure?” you asked, the vulnerability in your voice raw. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“Oh please, you’re never a burden,” he said, his lips brushing against your hair as he kissed the top of your head a few times. “We’ll work on your serve, your shots. Whatever you need.”

You nestled into Ben's chest, your body still trembling slightly from the release of emotions, but now, with him holding you, the weight seemed just a little lighter. You sighed, his warmth surrounding you like a cloud, which made you plant a soft, lingering kiss on his cheek as you studied his face. Ben chuckled, a low, comforting sound that vibrated through you as he hugged you even tighter.

“You keep looking at me like that with those big puppy eyes, and I’m gonna think you’re trying to butter me up,” he teased, mischief dancing in his eyes as he looked down at you.

You shook your head gently, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Maybe I am,” you murmured. “Is it working?”

He grinned, tilting his head as if pretending to consider it. “Hmm, maybe,” he said, leaning down to pepper your face with kisses, your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, until you burst out laughing, squirming in his lap.

“Ben!” you giggled, trying to push his face away, but he just held you tighter, his laughter mingling with yours as he planted one last, exaggeratedly loud kiss on your cheek.

“There we go. That’s the smile I was waiting for,” he said softly, brushing away the remnants of your tears with his thumb. Then he added with a teasing grin, “God, you’re a pretty crier, you know that? Am I this whipped, or is your crying actually so beautiful to me?”

You laughed, feeling a blush creep to your cheeks despite the lingering sadness. “Really? You can’t give me a break from my beauty even when I’m a mess?”

His expression softened, and his voice dropped to a tender whisper. “You’re my beautiful mess, baby. You're stronger than you think. Tomorrow’s just another step, and I’ll be right there with you through all of it Y/N. But tonight... let’s take it easy, okay?”

You nodded, the vulnerability in your chest easing as you nuzzled into him, letting his reassurance sink in. “Okay. But only if you promise to keep the kisses coming. I don’t actually mind them that much.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. “Oh, trust me, I have plenty more where those came from.”

You laughed again, feeling lighter as the weight of the day was lifted and shared. With a final few kisses, he shifted, pulling you closer into a cocoon of warmth, your head resting on his chest as his fingers gently played with your hair.

“Let’s order room service—some sweet little treat or whatever you call it. I know you’ve got a weakness for ice cream.”

You tucked your face into his neck, hiding a smile. “Alright, but only if you promise to share.”

“Deal,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll have some ice cream, watch the fuckin' dumbest movie we can find, and tomorrow, we’ll tackle the court together.”

You nestled deeper, his warmth surrounding you as the heaviness of the day slowly faded. He stroked your hair gently, his thumb tracing calming circles on your back.

“How do you always know exactly what to say and do?” you mumbled against him, your voice soft, exhaustion still lingering at the edges.

Ben chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. “It’s a talent,” he teased. “But you’re easy to read. I’ve got my boyfriend role down to a T. Ice cream and kisses are my foolproof pick-me-up.”

You lifted your head to look at him, a smile on your tear-stained face, finding him unbelievably sweet. There was something timeless about his words as if twenty years down the line, he would still have you like this. You held his face and kissed him deeply, feeling his giggle in the kiss. Overwhelmed by his love, you wanted him to feel it too.

The two of you shared ice cream and silly banter, the tension of the day slowly dissolving into warmth, laughter, and love. As the night deepened and the movie ended, the ice cream tub empty, you drifted off into the most peaceful sleep you had in a long time, safe in the knowledge that whatever tomorrow brought, Ben would be right there beside you, helping you every step of the way.

The next morning, Ben stayed true to his word. You hit the courts just as the first light of dawn brushed the horizon, the air crisp and cool. Though you were still shaking off sleep, Ben seemed full of peppy energy, tossing you your racket with a grin. “Alright, superstar, let’s see what you’ve got!”

You lined up, feeling the familiar weight of the racket in your hand, but the first serve fell flat, hitting the net. You frowned.

The next few tries weren’t much better, either flying out of bounds or clipping the net. Frustration bubbled up, and you let out an exasperated sigh. “I can’t get it right.”

Ben walked over with a few more balls, calm as ever. “You’re tense,” he said softly, his hands finding your waist again. “You’ve been in your head too long, baby. You need to feel the court, not force it. Breathe, take it easy and try again.”

You rolled your shoulders, trying to loosen up, but your mind was still spinning. “It’s just not coming back,” you muttered, frustrated.

Ben didn’t respond right away, just came up behind you, his presence a steady comfort. “Let me help,” he said, his voice soft. His hands guided yours on the racket, adjusting your grip before sliding down to your hips. “It’s not all in the swing. It’s in how you use your whole body, how you shift and follow through. Let the court come to you.”

His hands lingered, his chest pressed against your back, steady and sure, as he tilted your hips slightly, helping you find your balance again.

“You know this court, star,” he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. “It’s yours. Remember how it feels under your feet.”

You nodded slowly, closing your eyes for a second, trying to push the frustration away. Ben’s voice, his touch, helped as both a guide and a distraction. When you opened your eyes again, you focused as tension had begun to ease. You served, this time letting the movement flow through you. The ball cut through the air cleanly, landing near the baseline. There was no power struggle, no overthinking, just instinct.

“That’s it, baby” Ben murmured smiling, watching you. “Feel that? You’re not forcing it. You’re moving with the court.”

You started again, focusing less on hitting a hard serve and more on control, allowing the court to guide you. Each serve felt more natural and precise. Ben stood right beside you, offering gentle corrections, praise, and soft, reassuring touches. His hand rested on your lower back, his fingers brushing against your arm, sending tingles through you. You’d be lying if you said coach Ben wasn’t just a little sexy in his element, the way he moved with confidence and authority, every glance filled with admiration and encouragement. He noticed the blush creeping up your cheeks, and a knowing smirk spread across his face, making your heart race even more.

As the session went on, you felt yourself loosening up bit by bit, your body remembering what it was capable of. The court started to feel familiar again, like an extension of yourself. The frustration melted away as you explored each corner, reclaiming your space, and rediscovering the rhythm of your game.

“You’re getting it back,” Ben said softly, stepping closer to brush a light kiss on your temple, his eyes filled with pride. “Little by little, you’re taking control. Good job, star.”

With each swing, you felt more confident. The serves landed deeper and accurately, and you were no longer second-guessing and stalling yourself. It was like the mental block that had blocked your game was lifting. You were in control, not just of the ball, but of the court and of yourself. The sensation was exhilarating, like finding something deeply familiar yet long forgotten.

Ben grinned, watching you get into the groove of it. “That’s my girl,” he nodded, walking over to plant another soft kiss on your forehead. His touch was gentle, his presence grounding. “See? You’ve had it in you all along, babe”

You smiled back, feeling the warmth of his encouragement seep into your skin. The court was yours again, bit by bit. Each serve became more fluid, more instinctive until you weren’t thinking at all, just playing.

By the time you finished, your muscles were tired, but your spirit was light. You collapsed onto the court bench, breathless but smiling wide. Ben sat next to you, tossing a towel over your head with a playful chuckle. “Not bad, star,” he teased, his arm slipping around your shoulders, pulling you close.

You pulled the towel off, laughing softly, leaning into him. “Not bad? I’m just getting started.”

Ben chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead, his voice low and full of pride. “You’re ready, babe. Navarro won’t know what hit her.”

You tilted your head up toward him, your heart swelling with the warmth of his support, his belief in you. “Thanks, Ben,” you whispered, feeling lighter than you had in weeks.

He smiled down at you, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Don't thank me, you're my star. You always had it in you, you just needed to be woken up. You’ve got this.”

As you settled into the comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but smile at him a little. “You know, you were kind of, well really, hot when you were coaching me back there.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Oh really? Didn’t know you were into coaches,” he replied, leaning closer with a playful glint in his eye.

You felt heat flooding your face as you tried to maintain your composure. “What can I say? I guess I’m a little hot and bothered by a guy who knows what he’s doing.”

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hmm, maybe you should forget more moves so I can show you how to do them, and some more,” he teased, winking.

Feeling a rush of flustered energy, you tossed the towel at him playfully. “Shut up, Ben!”

He caught the towel with a laugh, his eyes gleaming with amusement. Before you could react, he leaned in, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you closer. His lips brushed against yours in a teasing kiss, warm and lingering.

“Just so you know,” he murmured against your lips, a playful smile dancing on his face, “I won’t tease you... for now.”

You rolled your eyes, a smile breaking through as you quickly picked up your bag and darted away, glancing back at him with a cheeky grin. “Catch me if you can!”

Ben laughed, instantly springing into action, his competitive spirit kicking in as he chased after you. You could hear his footsteps pounding behind you, and the thrill of the moment sent your heart racing.

You knew what lay ahead, your work was cut out for you, but this playful exchange filled you with renewed energy. With only a matter of days left to tighten up your game, you were ready to tackle it head-on, and with Ben by your side, you felt unstoppable.

The roar of the crowd felt distant as you walked through the tunnel and set your bag down, it was like background noise as you stepped up to the baseline.

You bounced the ball a few times, steadying your breath, closing your eyes and remembering to feel the court. For the first time in a long time, the nerves weren’t overwhelming. The fog that had clouded your mind for so long had finally lifted. You could feel it, the control, the power, the pure joy of being here again.

You looked across the net at Emma Navarro. She was focused, her eyes sharp, but you weren’t intimidated. Not anymore.

You tossed the ball up, your body moving fluidly. The serve was powerful, and precise, landing just inside the line. Navarro barely managed to reach it, her return shaky, and you pounced on the ball with ease, sending a clean shot down the sideline. Point, yours.

As the game continued, you could feel yourself loosening up even more, the flow of the game taking over. You were back to being fluid. Each serve was strong, each shot deliberate. The crowd's cheers grew louder with each point you won, but your focus was laser-sharp. You were smiling, actually smiling, because, for the first time in a while, you were enjoying the game in full. Truly enjoying it.

Navarro, on the other hand, was starting to crack. Frustration etched itself onto her face as she missed returns, her shots hitting the net or flying wide. You could see it in her body language, the stiff movements, the clenched jaw. She screamed to herself after missing a particularly crucial point, her racket bouncing once on the ground in frustration. You remained composed, feeding off her energy but not letting it affect you.

You’d been there before, the frustration, the doubt, but today, you were on the other side of it. Calm. Confident.

The last point of the match came fast. Navarro’s serve was weak, and you returned it with a backhand that forced her wide. She scrambled, barely making it, sending a lob over the net. You didn’t hesitate. Stepping into position, you smashed the ball down with a powerful overhead. The crowd erupted, but you barely registered the sound. It was just you and the court, and that sweet feeling of victory settled over you like a warm glow.

Game, set, match—yours.

Navarro offered a tight, forced smile as you shook hands at the net. She was clearly upset, her frustration barely contained, but you didn’t linger on it. You had won. Not just the match, but the battle with yourself.

As you walked off the court, your body thrumming with the adrenaline of victory, the weight that had been hanging over you for months felt lighter. The pressure was still there, but now, you felt in control of it.

The tunnel to the locker room was quiet compared to the roaring arena. You rounded the corner, towel slung over your shoulder, your breath and heartbeat finally starting to steady. As you approached the locker room door, you stopped in your tracks.

There, sitting on the bench inside, was Ben.

He stood as soon as he saw you, a wide grin breaking across his face. He didn’t wait for you to say anything before he crossed the room and pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

“You did it, baby,” he murmured into your hair, his voice warm with pride. “I knew you would.”

You buried your face in his chest, the exhaustion settling in, but there was also this overwhelming sense of relief and joy.

“I haven’t felt like that in so long,” you whispered, your voice muffled against him. “It felt... so right.”

Ben pulled back just enough to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks gently. His eyes were soft, filled with so much love that it made your chest tighten in the best way.

“That’s because it was right. You were incredible out there. I’ve never been prouder of you, my star.”

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling at the nickname.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” you said, your voice soft but full of truth.

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled back.

“I’ll always be here to help you get on your feet,” he said quietly, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that made your breath hitch. “No matter what. I’ll be right here, cheering you on, every step of the way.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of his promise settle deep within you. It wasn’t just about tennis anymore. It was about everything, the future, the ups and downs, the challenges and victories. And you knew, without a doubt, that Ben would be there through it all.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Ben’s grin softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulled you close again, his lips brushing your temple. “I love you too, star. More than you know.”

For a few moments, the two of you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading into the background. It was just you and Ben, your hearts beating in time, the promise of something stronger, something deeper, wrapped around you like a blanket of safety.

With his arm draped around your shoulders, the two of you walked out of the locker room, your heart lighter, your spirit soaring. The future felt wide open, full of endless possibilities and with Ben by your side, you were ready for all of it.

And just like that, the world melted away again, leaving only the two of you in that tiny bubble of love and safety, where nothing else mattered.

[crazylittlejester]

Holy crap I haven't looked at your account in a while (idk why but your posts just haven't been popping up on my home page) and I saw your new pfp! IT'S ABSOLUTELY STUNNING!!! Your art is so good!!

Also I wanted to hear about your personal head cannons for Warriors because I would love to hear them!!

a lot of people have been telling me that actually, that they’re not seeing my posts on their dash anymore, i wonder if something is going on with that :( (and also IVE noticed that my engagement has been down, tho i’d thought that’s just because this is a busy time of year)

HEHE THANK YOU!! :3 i love my blorbo and the voices wanted me to draw him again

god there are. so. so many that i have- but to list off a few:

- middle child (he’s number four of seven), and im so set on this one. he has six sisters (one of which is his twin (Linkle)) because i know in my heart this man was raised by women. also i hc his mom is still alive because he deserves a living mother after everything (and he loves her and shes awesome and she misses him very very much)

- he has the worst vision ever, he cant see more than like 20 feet away from him without things just getting blurry, but he genuinely doesn’t realize that his vision is shit he thinks hes normal

- due to his burn scars its hard for him to regulate his temperature so he overheats easily in hot weather if hes not careful

- i hc after the war he took in two cats that he found abandoned in a destroyed village. he tried to find who they belonged to but couldn’t, and initially he wasn’t going to keep them but then he got attached and now those are his babies and his girls (Rosie and Delilah). He knits them sweaters because they have no fur and knitting is a good productive mindless activity for him to do when he’s stressed

- on a similar note: i hc he has experience as a tailor and is very good at sewing and mending things because while his family does own a small farm and sell some crops (he’s a country boy turned city boy and this is another hill i will die on), they’re tailors and thats the main way they make money

- absolutely terrified of cuccos because Linkle would chase him around with them when they were kids and eventually the cuccos took this to mean any time they saw Warriors they were to chase him, without Linkle even being there

- i hc his eyes are hazel and that his hair is naturally dark brown and very curly, but he started bleaching and straightening it when he ended up in the army and got to Castletown

- hes scared to go home to his family now that the war is over because he’s worried hes changed too much as a person after everything he went through and he can’t mentally handle the idea of being rejected from a place he gets so much comfort from just thinking about, so he keeps his distance and is full of some pretty lame ass excuses as to why he wont go home (it’s been well over a decade. i hc he left at 15-16 and is currently 27 almost 28). Linkle is the only blood relative he’s seen since he left for the war and she tries to convince him to come home whenever she sees him

- i hc he looks just like his mom, which is a blessing and a curse for him because he can never hate his face because he is literally IDENTICAL to his mom and he loves and misses her so much, but it’s painful to look at himself in the mirror sometimes. Linkle, being his TWIN, is can also be hard to look at

- HUGE history nerd, and getting to travel through the eras and learn about them has been the most exciting thing to ever happen to him. he didn’t have access to a formal education as a kid, he would’ve been home schooled basically, and once the war was over and he had access to a library full of knowledge from all over the place on topics he’d never even realized existed he just started reading and didn’t stop. he LOVES to learn and he loves to explore, and half his journal is just all his observations on the eras a little notes and could literally be a history book on its own. he draws diagrams and maps and all sorts of stuff in there, and when he goes home he LOVES getting to tell people the history books are fucking wrong

- the other half of his journal contains more personal things, and also notes on his companions and strategies for battles (he is INCREDIBLY observant and keeps very detailed notes. his journal is basically an extension of his brain because the ADHD can make it hard to keep track of all his thoughts sometimes). none of it is written in ‘hyrulian common’ (english), the entire thing is in his native language (portuguese) written in an alphabet none of the chain are able to read (and no one in War’s Castletown and read it either. should someone take his journals it would take them a good long while to translate them)

- his left hand is a little messed up, sometimes it shakes and sometimes his grip is really weak, so on days his wrist isn’t strong enough to wield his sword in a way that makes him feel safe, he brings out the fire rod. two handed weapon, offers him more stability, and yeah he also does just like watching shit go up in flames

- he’s actually an introvert. the loud obnoxious personality is something that was created from rumors and expectations of him from the kingdom and the whole ‘Captain’ persona is really just like some character he plays. he’s definitely a bit dramatic at his core, but hes a much more quiet and reserved person than he comes off as. he greatly values his privacy and alone time

[into-fiction]

I'm interested in the time-traveling au ideas!!!

I've read a lot of Glinda time-travelling aus and they're all starting to blur together at this point lol, but I would still read it if you have something unique and interesting tho!! Like maybe time traveller Glinda still has anxiety and is over-thinking every little changes she makes, or maybe she decides <i>not</i> to befriend Elphaba and try to take down morrible and the wizard all on her own

I've never read a time travel au with both Glinda and Elphaba as time travellers before tho, that could be interesting!!

Maybe it could be them before For Good (song not movie), like maybe around the cat fight or before Fiyero went with Elohaba. Where they haven't seen eachother for years, where Elphaba thinks Glinda actually believes all the propaganda stuff she says in front of the crowds and she feels like she cant trust Glinda with helping her take the Wizard down.

Glinda and Elphaba going back to the quiet nights in the dorm room that were usually the filled with shared secrets, and realize they dont know anything about each other anymore.

They’re strangers with a history.

I saw someone say that in For Good (song), Glinda becomes someone who could have considered going with Elphaba in Defying Gravity while Elphaba becomes someone who would have considered staying.

This is before that, they time travel with a Glinda who still thinks they should work with the system to bring it down from the inside while this is an Elphaba who still thinks they should rebel. And they both disagree with each other because neither of them are seeing results from the other.

And maybe eventually, they'll see that it's necessary to try to take the system down both from the inside and outside, but they need to work together in an organized manner.

ooo i love your brain!

i have yet to read any time travel fics (on my list tho!) so I'm not sure what the overall themes are in this fandom! but i can try and say what I've been thinking so far (no true plot, just thoughts).

for glinda by herself:

i have a fondness for 'elphie trying to figure out glinda' stories and i think post-canon glinda is esp fun to play with. i have a few headcanons i'd want to throw in (that she's terrified of morrible, that she's still traumatized by elphie's death, etc). i think all my glinda's have anxiety so that's kinda a given.

if it were elphie pov, i feel it would be easier to explore the way a post-canon glinda interacts with the world and people around her.

if it were glinda pov, i feel it would be easier to explore time travel lore and themes of loss.

(there's a certain tragedy in just-glinda time travel bc even if there's a happy ending, it's not a happy ending with her elphie. I'm not afraid of a bit of tragedy tho)

for both of them together:

i had a couple people suggest they shouldn't know they both are back at first! which i could see being either a very funny or very angsty. either way, it would definitely add some obstacles.

the nice part about both together is that its the right elphie. and depending on where in the timeline you pluck them from, there's a lot of room to explore the gelphie dynamic both in and post canon.

also i get hooked on ages/timeline shit so the idea of them suddenly being in younger bodies, having the muscle memory & magical control that goes with that, etc is very fun to me.

your idea:

i feel like the concept of it being pre For Good gelphie is honestly really cool! if u don't mind, i actually think it works better as a time loop au over time travel?? in like a 'they both try their way and neither one works and they just keep trying till they realize they have to work together' type way.

but ALSO- a time travel fic where they lowkey kinda hate each other would be super fucking fun to explore.

[koithelittle]

christmas movies & cuddles

note; my first fic here, yay!! terrified would be an understatement. idk how long it’s taken me to write this but it’s been a while, i was really struggling with being okay and confident with it so if it suck’s, i’m sorry. requests are open tho! for all things, and my inbox just in general so have at it! okay that’s all.

warnings; use of daddy/dada, cutesy pet names, brief mention of alcohol (wils past wif cwistmas), ummmss,,, mark boardman is there! great sitter- okay that’s all i think! not proofread for mistakes so beware!

pairing; cg!wilbur soot x gn!little!reader

navigation

taglist; @jjtheresidentbaby @lillylvjy @wilmaslittleflower @whos-nicooo (ask to be added!)

wilbur always found enjoyment in making you happy, in doing things that would bring a smile to your face or make you laugh and giggle. he loved to be your sun, when all you were surrounded by was darkness.

he's never been fond of holidays if he's honest. he didn't like dressing up for Halloween, and as a guy in his mid-late 20s, he didn't particularly care for the party side of halloween either. when it came to Christmas, it only seemed to remind him how lonely he was. or had been. before he met you, christmas was spent inside, alone with alcohol to numb the loneliness.

but now, with you, he has every reason to celebrate it. christmas decor goes up november 1st, Christmas cookies get made the day after and he already has a list of gifts he plans on getting for you and all of your shared friends. he has plans of activities, and small outings to go on. you go ice skating together, where he holds you to his side and keeps you from falling. he takes you out to get a christmas tree together, bringing it home and setting it up in the corner of the den.

he'll stand on his toes to hang up the garlands, spending hours outside hanging up christmas lights on the porch (you tell him it's not worth the cold he'll endure, but he insists on doing it without you peeking all so it's a surprise). he loves doing things for you, and holding you and keeping you warm during the cold nights. he'll make you tea or cocoa and hold you between his legs as you both watch a christmas movie.

you show him all your favorites, although, elf is his all time favorite. he finds it bizarre and funny at the same time. how silly it is, and campy it feels. he'll rub your stomach and kiss your cheek, holding you close to his chest.

if he's honest, part of why he does all of these things is to help you, to heal you and to make christmas fun for big you and little you (because let's be honest, he does everything he can to bring a smile to your face both big and little).

lately, though, he's wanted to focus more on at home, quiet christmasy adventures. things that you would feel comfortable doing when you're regressed, which meant quiet and cuddly activities that meant being cooped up inside.

he'd seen the whole boo basket trend, and thought it was a neat idea but wanted to have his own twist on it (prior to deciding, he also saw the burr basket posts but those fizzled out before he really got a good idea of what he had planned). he sat down at his desk to list a few stores he'd stop by and what items he planned to get from each one.

the local bookstore was sure to have a santa book, and maybe even a few jellycats (you eyed them all the time, and he almost always sneakily bought the mini ones to hide around the house). after the bookshop, he'd head to another shop, one that he's sure would have a basket and maybe a blanket, some candy and instant cocoa, amongst other things.

once his list was completed, he hurried down the stairs to where you were cooped up in the corner of the couch, wrapped up in one of his blankets with your stuffed bunny held against your chest. you'd been regressed for a few hours now, and needed quiet time so he set you up in the living room awhile ago, your favorite cartoon playing on the TV.

he sat beside you, pulling you into his side as he kisses your cheek and temple. he rubs your arm as he smiles down at you, "hello, baby, you ok?" he whispers as you whine and crawl into his arms, sitting in his lap.

he chuckles softly, nuzzling his nose against your hair as your hands grip onto his shirt. he pulls back to get a look at your face, hand on the side of your head as he pushes hair out of your face.

"love," his voice is a bit more firm, "are you okay?" you shrug as a response, soft frown held on your lips as he sighs and pulls you closer. he presses kisses to the top of your head, running his fingers through your hair as his other hand rubs your back.

he holds you for a while, the TV playing as background noise more or less as he coos and whispers a soft lullaby to soothe you a bit. when your grip on his shirt loosens, and your breathing steadies out, he pulls back to look you in the eye again.

"I've gotta go out for a bit, do you want to go stay with grace or wilma?" he whispers softly, hands on your lower back as he gets you to sit up a bit more.

you shrug, eyes stuck on the wall behind him as you zone out. he rubs your back, bringing your attention to him again, "okay," you mumble, dropping your head to your shoulder.

he kisses the shell of your ear, recognizing that you're most likely nonverbal or at least close to it. he nuzzles his nose against your cheek in a light manner, tickling you. you giggle softly, tensing up before relaxing in his hold when he kisses your temple.

"what if... I called over wilma to keep an eye on you, mm? orrrr maybe joe? ash? mark?" he smirks, pressing a few kisses to your cheek.

"ummm.. mark!" you giggle softly, smiling wide and happy at the thought of getting to see Mark again. you have a few drawings for him, as well!

"mark? okay, well can you give Daddy a few minutes while I call him, yeah?"

you nod softly, scooting out of his lap and settling in front of the TV as you start to play with your stuffies. wilbur sits up, walking over to the foyer as he calls mark, listening as it rings.

mark picks up, "hey, mate! what's up?" his voice is bright and chirpy, always happy.

"hey, I've got a favor to ask," wilbur starts, and you perk up. you sit up, leaning over the back edge of the couch, looking over at him and smiling.

Wilbur smiles over at you, chuckling before he continues, "I need to head into town for a bit and I was wondering if you'd come over and look after y/n for a bit? they're little right now and I just don't want to leave them alone but I can't take them either," Wilbur sighs, pacing a slight bit as he awaits and answer from mark.

you don't bother to listen to the rest, slinking to the corner of the couch and curling up happily. he walks over a moment later, sitting beside you and rubbing your side and arm.

"hey lovebug," wilbur coos, you lift your head and smile sleepily at him. he pulls you up into his lap, holding you close.

"hi, dada," you whisper, head rested on his shoulder as he rubs your back softly, free hand playing with your hair.

"mark will be here soon, yeah?" he smiles sweetly, rubbing your upper arms as he pulls back to look at you.

he holds you close to him, humming a soft tune as you let the time pass quietly. mark soon rings the doorbell and wilbur greets him before giving him a way too detailed run down, as if he'd never been your sitter before. then, wilbur finally leaves.

he hurries out to the car, heading into town. he had the list pulled up on his phone, ready to have things marked off. he started with the book shop, sifting through the various christmas children books and collecting a few in his arms, checking out and walking next door to the children's shops.

he spends the rest of the next two hours, shopping and gathering things of all kinds. your favorite candies, a blanket, a stuffie or two, books, crayons, etc etc. anything that could make you feel better. and so, after he puts everything in the trunk, he gathers it all up into the basket, making it look all pretty before he tucks it into the passengers seat, making his way home.

while wilbur is driving home, you and Mark are set up on the kitchen floor. he made a little sensory box for you, one that he brought from home. youre playing with the toys, making the dinos fly as mark watches you and cheers you on, making you giggle with every question he has.

"what's this dinos name, little one?" mark coos, holding a blue dino up to you.

you giggle softly, taking the dino and placing it on the top of his head, making it jump around before taking it back and putting it in the box, “bluey,” you hum.

“oh, bluey? that’s a nice name, hm?” you nod at mark’s question, quietly playing in the box that holds sand and rice and an assortment of dino toys.

“when’s daddy gettin home?” you mumble quietly, eyes cast down on the dinos you’re playing with.

mark hums, thinking for a moment before he answers, “soon, hun, promise.”

soon didnt come soon enough for you, waiting not so patiently for wilbur to come home. once you hear the door click open, you jump up and hurry to the door, slinging yourself into his chest. you hug him close, babbling incoherently to him as he hugs you back.

"hey, baby, you okay? you miss me?" he croons, pulling you closer against his chest, his arms wrapped around you. you nod, giggling happily.

"missed you, dada!" you squeal as he moves to pick you up, holding you on his hip as mark cleans up in the kitchen.

"I missed you too baby! how about you settle down here, mkay?" he sets you down on the couch, tucking a blanket over you as he moves into the kitchen.

"were they okay?" wilbur kneels down to help clean up the dino toys and what other things get taken out of the box.

mark smiles and nods, "of course! they missed you though, alot."

wilbur hums, smiling to himself at the thought as he and mark bid goodbyes, mark soon leaving through the front door. you peak up over the back of the couch, arms folded and chin resting atop of them.

he chuckles, walking over to you and kissing your forehead, brushing hair out of your face gently, "hi love, I'm gonna go get something, okay? be a good little love while I'm gone. I'll be right back," he places a lingering kiss to your forehead before he turns to leave out the door. you stay there, watching the door like a puppy. he steps back in a few minutes later, a basket covered with his jacket now clad in his arms.

"close your eyes, bunbun," he smiles widely, and you do as told, giggling softly as you shut your eyes. you feel him sitting down next to you and something wicker being placed in your lap.

"open, love," he smiles as you, watching as you excitedly giggle and look up at him.

“all for me?” you whisper in disbelief, eyes wide with joy as you hold the sides of the basket, waiting for the go ahead.

“mhm, just for you, baby. go on, open it. it’s for our evening,” he smiles a bit softer, hand reaching behind your head to rub your hair as he watches you excitedly unwrap it all. your eyes widening with each thing, giggling and squealing happily with each little gift. once it’s all open, you crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, settling in for a hug.

“thank you, daddy!” you giggle softly, nuzzling your face into his neck as wilbur hugs you close.

“did you like it?” he hums, kissing your temple and cheek as he guides you back so he can look down at your face.

you nod eagerly, “all of it! every bit!” you reach over for the little bunny stuffie he grabbed for you and you show it to him, “it looks like you dada!”

he chuckles, rubbing your cheek and nodding, “oh it does, doesn’t it?” he takes it into his hand, waving it a bit at you as you giggle.

“yeah! ‘s you, dada!”

“well that’s a high compliment, mm?” you nod softly at his words as he hands the bunny back to you, pulling you into his lap as he rubs his thumbs over your soft cheeks, “how does a christmas movie with popcorn and candy and cuddles sound, mm?” his lips curl up in a coy smile, eyes bright with love for you.

you nod in agreement, resting your head on his shoulder as your hands rest on his sides, “mmhm, please?”

he nods, mumbling a quick okay as he kisses your cheek and sets you aside on the couch, “i’m gonna go get stuff from the kitchen, ok? you stay here and rest,” you nod, rubbing your eyes sleepily as you curl up on your side.

he hurries into the kitchen, starting some popcorn as he fills your favorite sippy with some juice, setting that aside as he pours the popcorn in a bowl. he sits beside you, popcorn on the coffee table as he hands you your sippy cup. you hold it, leaning against his side as he sets up a movie, cuddling close with you as you both quietly watch the movie together.

the rest of the evening is spent cuddled up with a christmas movie and candy, no need to talk or chat, and that’s the best part.

[squarebracketsmileyface]

I had a dream last night about Lark. But like, it was an AU where Jay did die, he was gone and Tim moved on and had Birdie and found Brian again. But after that Lark comes around. Jay "died" and born again was Lark. She didn't remember much of anything. But Tim found her again. Which now that I'm awake is just reminiscent of the "You're just as beautiful as the day I lost you" drawing you did.

Now imagine that was an actual AU...

"now imagine that was an actual AU"

Don't mind if I do *wiggles fingers at it like it's a little cake

I swear I've thought about this before but I can't remember if I actually posted about it? I think it was like, a swap of Brian and Lark's timelines maybe? Brian reunited with Tim straight away and helped raise baby Birdie, and Lark was the one who showed up with everything figured out after ten years of being "dead"

I honestly love this idea, like it's so silly, it's so cute. Tim probably wouldn't even 100% realise it was "Jay" to begin with. He'd see her in a grocery store of something and just kinda have a little panic moment thinking he saw Jay, and then he'd be like "no, just someone who looks like him," and carry on, but he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it. He'd go home and he'd tell Brian, they'd talk about Jay and everything that happened in entry 80 and Brian would comfort Tim and say that it's normal to think you saw someone you lost, even ten years after the fact.

Then Tim would run into her again and she'd make smalltalk with him and he'd be like 'god she even kinda sounds like Jay' and the lil 'oo another trans person :D' sign in his brain would light up.

(It got long lol)

I think they'd become friends naturally, bumping into each other constantly and just chatting when they can, and eventually Tim learns where she grew up, where she went to uni, and he'd be like "what are the odds, that's where I went to uni too, I wonder if we ever bumped into each other there" trying to play it off while he's panicking because he feels like his mind it playing tricks on him and he's terrified he's going to start believing some random woman is somehow his ten years dead boyfriend who might have been trans. He's scared he's not going to be able to shake the belief and that he's going to accidentally push his grief onto her, when it could be really nice to finally make a friend around here.

Eventually Brian's out with Tim too, and they both bump into Lark and when they get home Brian's like "you didn't say she looked EXACTLY like Jay if he was a woman??" And Tim's like "right?? It's uncanny!"

"so you think-?"

"No, no don't put that in my head, Brian, please don't put that in my head you know how bad my brain clings to things sometimes. Don't put that in my head."

"Sorry, yeah, no, she doesn't remember us, anyway, so obviously she can't be him. No recognition or anything, y'know?"

I think eventually the little details about Lark's life kinda all add up and eventually they tip Brian and Tim off to the fact that she did in fact used to be Jay. It'd take a while tho, like they've been kinda-friends for a couple months before she even mentions the least damning thing, having memory issues surrounding her time after uni, or just memory issues in general. She vaguely remembers that she used to carry a camera around so she could take videos and photos of important things so she wouldn't forget them.

Maybe they get onto the topic of how Tim and Brian met and they kinda half explained it, "oh we met in highschool and lost touch for like four years after uni, both had some situations in our personal lives and kinda forgot the other existed. I was stuck hotel hopping with a guy I ended up dating for a good long while." And Lark's kinda like "huh, yeah I'm pretty sure I was homeless doing something pretty similar for a while. Can't remember why though? I could have just moved back in with my parents, they'd have been delighted." Tim and Brian just stare at each other at that. They're having the same 'dont put that in my head's conversation with their eyes.

I'm not sure how they'd eventually like, figure it out. Maybe they end up being like "uhhh... So hey, did your name used to be Jay? Before you transitioned?" And have Lark be freaked the fuck out because WHAT??? How did they know that???

Or maybe she stumbled across something in their house that jogged her memory. They invite her over for an evening, maybe it's not even the first time they've done that, maybe by this point they're all proper friends. Maybe by this point Tim's desperately telling himself be doesn't fancy her, because he thinks he's only feeling like that because he can't shake the idea that she's Jay.

Maybe it's Birdie's "baby blanket" that makes her remember a bit. The green-brown hoodie of hers that Tim found in his car and kept after entry 80, the one he wrapped Birdie in and the one that's so frayed around the ends of the sleeves that it's ridiculous. Maybe Lark sees that and remembers a bit, kinda panics and freaks out silently when Birdie comes out of her bedroom at 11pm saying she had a bad dream and can she sit with them for a while. She's wearing the hoodie and Lark just kinda freezes on the sofa because the feeling that that hoodie is hers is so strong. It's not even "I used to have a hoodie like that," it's "that's my hoodie. That's my hoodie, I know it is"

She doesn't say anything, obviously, that'd be weird, but that's her hoodie, how tf does Tim have it?

She starts paying as much attention to all the weird similarities and coincidences in her and Tim's pasts, in at least the vague fuzzy stuff that she half remembers from her own. She's now doing the same thing as Brian and Tim are, constantly looking for some kinda confirmation that they knew here before this, that maybe they can fill her in on the years she's missing.

I think eventually she'd just ask them. She'd just outright ask "do you think we knew each other before this? I mean, really knew each other?" And finally Tim and Brian can kinda hesitantly confirm that that's their running theory, but they didn't wanna make her uncomfortable, they didn't wanna push that on her if they didn't already know her, they didn't want her to think they only liked her because they thought she was someone else.

Maybe they open up a little more about MH and what actually happened there. They mention Alex and that's kinda it? Like, they say his surname and that's too much of a coincidence, because Lark had a situationship back in uni with a guy with exactly that name.

After that it's a lot of very slowly filling Lark in on everything. Slowly because they don't wanna overwhelm her, because this is a LOT. And there's a lot of it to get through. Like, it takes months and months.

The last thing they tell her is that Birdie is hers.

I don't think she'd be dating Tim and/or Brian at that point, I think they'd have talked about their feelings, but I think all three of them would decide that they need to take things really really slow when it comes to a relationship, given their history and just the fact that they need to be sure they're not just getting together because of who they USED to be to each other, y'know? And yeah eventually they do get together, of course they do, but like? It takes a while.

I don't think they'd tell Birdie that it's actually Lark who is biologically her other parent, they let her keep assuming that it's Brian who is. But maybe when she's sixteen or whatever they sit down and have that talk. I think they'd have already told her a bit about the fact that Lark actually used to know Tim years and years ago, maybe that they used to be together, then lost touch and all that. I'm not sure how they'd explain the amnesia, maybe Lark already has an explanation she usually gives people about a head injury and she tells Birdie that, because no way in hell are they explaining MH to her. Mostly because they goddamn terrified that'll kick it all off again in some big Eldrich horror joke.

Eventually tho, everyone's in the know. Brian is still Birdie's other dad, and she never really starts calling Lark mum, but she does call her "my mum" if that makes sense. Like "oh yeah, this is Lark, she's my mum" that kinda thing. I don't think she'd only say Lark is her Dad's girlfriend. But she wouldn't just say "mum" if she needed Lark's attention, she'd just say "Lark"

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 5

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

Back at my desk for chapter 5 today, but no Charlie; he has abandoned me :(Tea this evening is Lady Grey with some milk and sugar.

Can you all believe that this is the last chapter of book 1????!?!? One out of 4 done! Anyways- let's get into this short chapter:

OMG. I would have been so pissed if I was transmigrated somewhere and had to start as an infant with my entire adult brain. RIP those circumstances for Airplane (p 264)

Honestly though, I am so here for the argument between Shang Qinghua/Airplane & Shen Qingqiu/Shen Yuan. Fight it out! The fan/not fan and the author who has no idea what's happening LOL

okay but I stand with Shang Qinghua/Airplane -> Shen Yuan really does know a lot of the lore for someone who supposedly hates this book (p265)

Oh god airplane doesn't even know that shen qingqiu here was poisoned (p267)

(okay Re: not knowing about the poisoning- correction he does, I dont know why he was confused about the mushroom side quest though. If anyone has clarity about this comment pls!)

okay but what's this demon- it's kind of scary clever (p269)

the SASS of this system going through an update and only giving automated answers LOL (p270)

it's making me laugh that the actual author and creator of this world cannot recall a single side character's name XD (p272)

+1 to the party! We have Gongyi Xiao (p 275).

what's touching him?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?! (p278) that's terrifying!!!!!

Shen Qingqiu still over here missing his boy. Re: Gongyi Xiao not being as good as Luo BInghe at picking up Shen Qingqiu's subtle non verbal cues while fighting and shen qingqiu being upset by it (p280)

I swear if that slither creature snatches those mushrooms before shen qingqiu has a chance to snag them I will be so pissed on his behalf (p282)

All three of them: WTF is that?!?!?! Airplane side eyeing shen yuan: did I write that tho??? (p.284)

RE: snatching the mushrooms- I don't think it can touch the mushrooms(?)

OMG. Shen qingqiu just made mortal enemies with this fish snake man (p 287)

At this point I don't know if he is trying to gaslight himself. But no matter what, Shen Qingqiu is really convincing people he's a little unwell about losing Luo Binghe. He mentally tells himself he's fine but man is his behaviour wild. (p 289)

OOp. Airplane calling Shen Yuan out about his feelings regarding Luo Binghe 👀 (p 290) Which Shen Qingqiu completely fails to respond to.

That's it for book 1!!!!!

I am NOT ready for the next turn of events. That foreshadowing at the end with this mushroom plot! These mushrooms better survive or poor Shen Qingqiu is fucked.

I cannot wait to start book 2 tomorrow!!!

[super-paper]

"Thank you for such wonderful comedy."

I've been wanting to talk about how MHA plays with the concepts of "fiction vs reality, the characters vs the actor, the world vs the stage" for awhile now, bc I believe understanding how MHA utilizes these concepts is pretty crucial to understanding our Big Bad (and Tomura!) (...and Izuku!) (.. etc!) (y-yeah...!!!) (wooo.....!!!!!)

If this post is more incoherent than usual, I apologize-- I'm just really enthusiastic about stories that play with the fact that they're stories and characters who throw themselves into a fictionalized role as a means of coping. I love the way MHA handles these concepts in particular, so I lost all sense of restraint as usual.

Hori: "I'm Like Dropping Hints That Hero/Villain Personas Are Actually Coping Mechanisms Lol"

"As Tomura Shigaraki and Tenko Shimura, I've got just one wish: the total destruction of everything that created that house." "If my origin as Touya and Dabi was such a simple thing, then... No, there are still things I want to say. Arguments I want to have."

I've seen a few ppl saying that it sounds awkward/strange to have the characters repeatedly asserting themselves in the third person, but imo, the emphasis on real names versus hero/villain names during these particular scenes plays into the idea of the villain/hero identities being "alter egos" that might not actually have the same core desires as the """"actors"""" that are behind these personas.

Tomura and Touya invoke both their real and villain names while asserting their respective wishes. Himiko also invokes her villain name, though it's less obvious to english speakers because she uses her real name as her villain name (in the raws, "HIMIKO TOGA" as a villain name is written using katakana-- and this is what she uses when asserting her wish). MHA plays with the idea of "fiction"/"Alter Egos" as a form of escapism and as a coping method, and at this point in time, the Dabi/Tomura/"Himiko" identities are still being utilized as a crutch/mask by these three very hurt individuals.

*loud, terrifying chanting* PEAK FICTION PEAK FICTION PE--

Ochako's fight being like the second most thematically important fight in the whole series still makes me unreasonably giddy btw.

To contrast, Ochako uses her civilian name alone when asserting her wish-- and imo we're meant to read this as Ochako wanting to save Himiko as herself, not as Uravity. Saving Himiko is not something she can accomplish as her alter-ego-- Ochako is able to save Himiko by stepping off the stage and becoming a "real" person, while also acknowledging the person behind "Toga Himiko (villain name)".

Izuku hasn't had his "I'm Izuku Midoriya"/"I'm-saving-you-as-Izuku-not-as-Deku" moment yet-- instead, we see Tomura intentionally making that distinction between the-hero-and-the-true-self by constantly referring to Izuku by his real, full name. And I'm pr sure Izuku is also the only one he does this to-- we see him referring to all the other heroes he encounters by their hero names alone, or by insulting nicknames (l-lol). Correct me if I'm wrong, tho!

(side note: Tomura switching to calling Izuku just "Hero" in the aftermath of Bakugate is actually a big step backwards imo-- it reads as Tomura trying to push Izuku away by shoving them both back in the hero/villain box and doubling down on enforcing their respective "roles." Not that I ever expected mister doomdere to make things easy, but, woof. Good Fuckin' Luck, Izuku ( ´･ω･) )

TL;DR The final arc has mostly been about tearing off the hero/villain masks to reveal who is hiding underneath— MHA's careful use of names and monikers plays heavily into that and its distinction between "alter-ego"/"true self" a lot. Which is... probably one of the many reasons why All For One still doesn't have a given name, as someone who has all but completely lost himself in his character.

Anyway! That brings us to the meat of this post: how does MHA take the concepts of "reality vs fiction" and "the character vs. the actor" and apply it to All For One (...and Tomura) (and Izuku--)?

"Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain!"

"If you refuse to submit, then I'll just rewrite the story." - it's amazing how all of this coulda been avoided if someone had just introduced AFO to Demon Lord x Reader fanfiction. (/j)

AFO fancies himself as the author of MHA's greatest tragedy (the desecration of Shimura Nana's legacy via the sacrifice of Shimura Tenko), while simultaneously inserting himself into its overarching narrative and treating himself as the leading villain of the story-- it's self-indulgent and intentionally invasive in the way that most self-insert fanfiction tends to be invasive, with him going to extremes to make it seem as though the whole story revolves around him. AFO wants to be both the author and the leading character and the leading antagonist. This greed is typical of him, but it also establishes him as a character who's more caught up in (read: trapped by) his relationship to "fiction" than anyone else. Again, MHA explores the use of fiction and alter-egos as an escape from a painful reality-- so, it's entirely reasonable to assume that this applies to AFO as well.

To me, so much about AFO reads as an escapist fantasy of someone who is utterly terrified of being put in a position where he is truly seen. The idea of being vulnerable, of being naked, of being "human," is intolerable to him. But by not allowing himself to feel and "be a human," he has effectively cut himself off from what he wants most. The character of “Shigaraki Tomura” is as much an escapist fantasy for AFO as it is Tenko-- It's just another (younger, prettier) layer of skin he can hide his true self in.

"so basically you're saying that AFO is a never nude" yes, actually :)

AFO dehumanizes Tomura through his attempts to turn the boy into his personal comic book character, but he also dehumanizes himself by desperately trying to insert himself into that “character." It's only fitting that Tomura’s innate humanity and capacity for feeling ends up rendering AFO himself painfully, painfully human-- and ultimately causes AFO's carefully constructed character to start crumbling.

If All the World’s a Stage, Then Let’s Destroy the Stage

"That stage is gone now. The theater's knocked down. How much longer can we afford to be spectators on the sideline?" "Once upon a time, a man named All Might showed all of us how to be a hero. But somewhere along the way, people forgot about the heart and soul that made the man." -MHA, Chapter 325

Tomura is attempting to destroy the stage, because without the stage there can be no "Shigaraki Tomura" (Or "All Might," or "All For One," or "Endeavor," etc etc etc). Without the stage, there are no more "characters" and no more tragedies. But-- without the stage, there are no more stories period. There are no more tragedies, but there are no more happy endings either. The world never recognizes the actor behind "Shigaraki Tomura" without the stage. The stage is not inherently a bad thing, so long as people can remember that the actors on the stage still exist outside of it.

But Tomura himself cannot imagine what happens after the curtains fall, and all that's left is Shimura Tenko. He is stuck in a role that was written entirely for someone else, but remains convinced that the role was always his and that the role defines him.

Tomura rebels against the story the only way he knows how--against an "author" who *LITERALLY* views him as a spicier self insert, and against a "setting" that treats his death as a happy ending-- but even so, Tomura still can't picture an ending that doesn't end in tragedy. His rebellion is not about him trying to wring a happy ending out of a miserable, mean-spirited book-- it's about burning the whole damn library down so he never feels let down or hurt by a story again.

Basically: Tomura cannot act outside the confines of his "character" in a way that will truly save him. Even as he rebels, he's rebelling in a way that is painfully consistent with the way his "character" is written-- and that's why AFO (the author) still poses such an enormous threat to him. Destruction cannot save him from this story when he was explicitly penned to destroy.

The only way to break this narrative is to act in a way "the author" doesn't expect, and to tap into all the traits that AFO desperately attempted to "write out" of him-- Shimura Tenko is someone who has always rebelled against his writing, his author, and the unfairness of this story with his kindness and his willingness to accept those that no one else will.

AFO cuts off Tenko's own power at the root by reinforcing Tomura's belief that the world will always inherently reject him, without fail, always and forever-- so he should just reject the world, too (and I've talked at length about this before, but this is why a story that ends with Tomura dying or locked away from society is an ending that fails in its goal to save Tomura). The more Shigaraki Tomura rejects everything and the more Shigaraki Tomura is rejected by everything, the more he distances himself from his root and the source of his power-- and the more Shimura Tenko gets lost in this character.

While AFO is terrified of someone seeing behind his mask, Tomura longs for it. Tenko has been there since the beginning and has been begging for someone to finally see and acknowledge him (both in-universe and out of universe).

"I’ll Be There, Changing Fate by Your Side."

AFO: "Blah Blah Blah Do you still believe myths can save you? Foolish creature. Let me be clear: every version of the story ends with you being slaughtered yadda yadda yadda :) :) :)" ENTER, MIDORIYA IZUKU WITH A STEEL CHAIR.

Izuku's role is that of a completely average boy who gets pulled into a narrative ''that wasn't for him"-- he has no heroic lineage, no hidden powers, and no connection to the centuries old conflict that drives the plot. He's just a boy who did the right thing at the right time and was rewarded for it. Izuku is someone who was "never supposed to be a hero" the same way Tenko was "never supposed to be a villain" per the "rules" of their world-- and Izuku, like Tomura, is someone who exists to destroy those rules and the expectations of their narrative, completely changing the ending.

But rather than burning the book and ending the story forever (like Tomura wants to do), Izuku believes that the story and characters can still be salvaged. There's always something worth saving. It doesn't have to be a tragedy, they can still change the ending. They can talk specifics after Tomura's crazy ass puts the lighter down.

Izuku, like Tomura and so many other characters, throws himself into an alter-ego in an attempt to redefine himself and escape from pain ("Nobody's been saved yet. Don't be the worthless old Deku who can't save anyone" 😬). He almost loses himself in the role of "OFA's torch bearer" the way All Might did-- but just as Izuku managed to find Toshinori Yagi and helped in convincing him that his life as Toshinori has meaning, Izuku ends up getting saved by his friends who couldn't care less about OFA's ~protagonist power~ and know that Izuku is just a goofy, awkward, human boy who needs help.

Like.... If we explore quirklessness as like... a narrative stand-in for characters that the story typically views or dismisses as irrelevant extras/npcs, then AFO's barely restrained anger at Izuku and Toshi (and possibly Yoichi if we're being honest) for daring to ''act beyond their roles'' becomes even funnier. AFO can't stand the idea of his power/the protagonist role being passed on to someone who seems so utterly unworthy, unremarkable, and plain. He can't stand the idea of someone without a quirk/"role" standing up to him, the leading character. Dude really is a toxic comic book fan to the core.

afo really said "I didn't like how things were going so I stopped reading and just wrote a better ending to the story :^)" like...... @mhareddit that's u buddy...........................;

Anyway...........!!!!! AFO is someone who cherry picks what he likes about a story while ignoring the actual intent/message of the work (#theabsolutestateofthemhafandom), but he has no intention of breaking down the dichotomy between heroes/villains and instead actively enforces it (.............#theabsolutestateofthemhafan--). He just wants to flip what side wins in the end.

Tomura wants to break the narrative because he sees that as the only way to escape from his pain (but in doing so, he permanently cuts himself off from being a part of a story with a happy ending). He wants to destroy the dichotomy between heroes and villains because heroes and villains "will never understand each other and never stop creating each other" (lol. lmao, even).

Izuku wants to break the narrative because he's realized that there's something more to this story than your standard "Hero versus Villain," "good vs evil" affair and that he cannot explore what lies behind those masks and labels without tearing them down, first.

These three work together well as a narrative set of Fucking Nerds, and AFO works well as both Tomura and Izuku's villain for all of the above reasons (& also bc he's the only one who is actually benefitting from their current society) ((which basically offers him an endless buffet of hurt and angry children he can exploit on a silver platter)).

Anyway! Kick his ass, Izuku.