#let it all start with his inability to see why anyone would ever like him let alone love him

[angeygirl]

William Afton as the kind of man beloved by everyone, who has nothing but hatred for himself

[numberonetacostan]

TACO'S (POTENTIAL) FRIENDSHIPS TIERLIST

Explanations for my placements! Placements in each row are in no particular order.

Disclaimer: I am a media enjoyer, not a media analyzer. These are just my thoughts, so nothing is objectively wrong, but if one of my takes is OOC or you disagree I’d be happy to hear why as long as you’re nice about it :). 

Tier 1: Tacomic!!! <3

Mic: YURI YURI YURI YURI!!!! Their yuri can be un-toxic’d now and that makes me very happy :). Don’t get me wrong, I love toxic yuri, but I’m really glad to see them work things out!!! Mic can be more assertive, and Taco is trying to be better!! Anyways, I do think that they will start out as just friends as they rebuild their relationship and learn how to interact with each other in a healthier way without the competition in the way, and there will certainly be bumps in the road, but after some time I truly believe that we will have yuri. Taco is going to try calming down on the objectively bad stuff she does and work on apologizing when she does mess up!! And Mic can hold her more accountable while also being someone Taco can rely on to stay by her side. Especially with Soap helping out, making sure Taco apologizes rather than avoiding the issue and/or doubling down, and making sure Mic keeps up her established boundaries in terms of not immediately letting Taco off the hook, as she has a bad habit of doing. I love tacomic so so much, and I am 100000% sure that they can work towards and create a healthy and happy relationship that makes them both better people. If you don’t feel like yuri-ing today, you can see them as besties too, but regardless Mic takes the top spot!!!

Tier 2: Friendship is inevitable

Soap: As mentioned above, I think having Soap around will be really helpful for Taco! Someone who doesn’t hold ill-will towards her but is very willing to hold her accountable! A good balance. We saw Soap throwing away her cleaning supplies and telling Mic to listen to her heart, so she’s clearly got some good thoughts on self-improvement! Also Mic has clearly told her about all the non-competition related stuff that she and Taco did, lesbianing around and such, she’s got a pretty clear idea of who Taco is beyond the competition, which can’t be said for most of the cast. And since Taco will definitely be sticking by Mic’s side for the foreseeable future, she’ll get to know Soap pretty well too!! They can do karaoke together!!! Hooray!!!! :D.

Balloon: This one’s pretty obvious, eh? He had his whole redemption arc from when he was a jerk in season 1, and now he sees someone else who wants to start on that journey? He has the chance to help someone in the way Suitcase helped him? FUCK yeah they’re gonna be friends. He even struggled with giving a proper apology as seen in episode 9!! Just like Taco did!! (I love her, but that was the worst apology I’ve ever heard actually). He’s also quite the sensitive guy, which I think could pair well with Taco and her inability to emotion. [Maybe I should make that long post on why I think Taco is autistic. TLDR we have the same kind of autism.] But anyways! I think he could really help her with breaking out of those negative behavioral patterns and turning yourself around! The advice that OJ gave to him would probably work ever better for Taco. A new chance to meet new people who she didn’t do anything bad to! She hasn’t met most of the s2 or any of the s3 joiners, so she has a pretty clean slate with them, even if they’d heard of her misdeeds. I think she would initially think his poetry was stupid, and then find it really relatable and emotional, and then keep pretending she finds it stupid when anyone she isn’t very close to is around. They can talk about the crushing feeling of guilt, regret, and your sins!! They’ve both fucked up and found out, and now Taco is getting on the path to fixing it that Balloon took. Forgiving yourself is an important step to moving past your mistakes, and he could help her with that. Also, despite s3 going with a final 3 rather than a final 2, he did place second vote-wise, so he and Taco can be in the runner-up club together!!! They both enjoy classical music too, as a fun little bit, so they could parallel play (the best way to spend time with someone) together while listening to it!! 

Suitcase: Our s2 winner!! And never giving up on anyone QUEEN. Can you tell I love Suitcase yet? Beyond Truth or Flare, they haven’t interacted much, but given the fact that Taco broke in front of her, her kindness, and the fact that she NEVER GIVES UP ON ANYONE (Can you tell I love Suitcase yet?) I think she and Taco could become friends! Girlies who can put things in their heads <3 <3. With Suitcase having become more assertive, in a similar vein to Mic there isn’t a risk for Taco to, for a lack of a better term, steamroll over her. And of course Taco is working to be better, so she would be trying to not to do that anyways! Suitcase is also so sweet and empathetic towards others, I think Taco could benefit from that example! Empathy doesn’t seem to come very naturally to Taco (see that one autistic taco post that I really need to make), but Suitcase could be a great person to learn from, in Mepad’s absence! (Rest in Peace King I Love You). And Suitcase could also work in a similar vein to Balloon and Mepad with getting Taco to be kind to herself. She has a lot of self-loathing after everything, and hasn’t experienced a lot of kindness from others having been alone in the woods for years. Suitcase’s resilience in staying kind despite other’s actions (but standing up for herself when necessary, of course), could be really good for Taco, in the evitable moment that she lashes out. Recovery and self-betterment isn’t linear, you know? And someone like Suitcase who can go to her in these moments still offering kindness, acceptance, and help is vital.

Baseball: The fumbler himself!! He would take Lightbulb’s advice about making sure he’s looking to heart!! And she told him where to look!! At Taco, who is drowning!! He was the lowest-ranked in season 1, so aside from three episodes and the Stupid Trailer, he wasn’t really around for her whole s1 act. He can get to know her as herself, which isn’t something that can be said for most of the other season 1 contestants. I’d also wager he feels partially responsible for her and Mic’s little alliance too, Mic’s own feelings of worthlessness and how he had constantly put her down being the core reasons why Taco chose her and was able to convince her to work together. He’d want to try and fix things with Mic too, and since Tacomic, he’d end up hanging out with Taco too. Besides, he already has a best friend who’s a short lil gremlin, he could definitely get along with Taco. And speaking of Baseball’s short lil gremlin…

Nickel: Hoo boy, I have plenty to say about a Taco and Nickel friendship!! Nickel fucked up his relationships with Suitcase and Balloon big time over not trusting that Balloon actually wanted to be better, and assuming that he couldn’t change. But he has learned his lesson!! Not only has he seen and acknowledged that Balloon changed, apologized to and befriended him, but Nickel changed too!! Hooray!! His ass would not want to make that mistake again. As well, we’ve heard from Brian recently that Nickel low-key admires what Taco pulled off in season 1. Not as much so after his character development, but still, he feels more positively about her true personality than her fake one!! That is not the general sentiment among the s1 cast!! They’re standing next to each other during the concert at the end of the finale, and he even sings backup for her during the reprise of “She Forgot”!. They have clearly already become friends, I’m not taking criticism on this one actually. They’re both sarcastic little shits trying to be better people! Nickel could empathize with the automatic-response-being-something-mean thing!! Also, since Suitcase does not want to see him (valid) he and Baseball should probably make some new friends anyways! Might as well chat with another mostly-alone object, yeah? Sigh. Two mean shorties against the world. On their own there might be a risk of them making each other worse but I think the people around them could keep that from happening. I really love Nico(?) friendship. 

Marshmallow: Mepad mourning. They were both the players helped the most by Mepad, they’re mourning his loss the most (other than Toilet, more on him next ;)) and I think they could connect over that, especially with Taco trying to be more open and honest emotionally, just like Mepad was helping her to be, yeah? Her grief over Mepad is a good place to start. They were also some of the first two contestants to realize how bad the game was for those involved and their relationships. Even if it took Taco longer to get there, they end up sharing the same negative view towards the game before the others do! This was even mentioned in the pre-episode 17 stream!! They also both have a complicated relationship with Knife! We don’t get to see too much of how Marsh feels towards Knife after the whole heroic-sacrifice, but I don’t see her immediately being all buddy-buddy with him. And Taco, who is confirmed to care about his well-being don’t argue with me on this one, has the whole thing with him and Mic going, and he might even be more watchful of her as she and Mic continue to patch things up and work towards healthy yuri. Going back to Marsh not totally forgiving Knife, this could help Taco with better understanding how Pickle feels about her. Knife wronged Marsh pretty hard in the past, and even if he’s sorry and has changed, she can still feel hurt and not want to forgive him. And she could vent these feelings to Taco when they’re talking about Knife!! And this is so so similar to how Taco greatly wronged Pickle in the past, and even if she’s sorry and wants to change, he can still feel hurt and not want to forgive her. With lower empathy, it can be really helpful for someone to explain how they feel about something and why, so I think someone more willing to explain a similar situation to her (since Pickle will not be sitting down with her and explaining how he feels) could really help her out in learning to back off and let Pickle live his life even if that life doesn’t include her. Mepad is incredibly proud of both of them frfr Mepad said so in a cameo. 

Toilet: Before I start this one I’d like to clarify I will also not be taking criticism here Toico friendship is so very inevitable you don’t even know. I got a cameo from @justin-chapmanswers right after the finale because I was so very sad about Mepad and they confirmed to me that Toilet and Taco could and would bond over missing Mepad. Toico friendship is “so incredibly important” AND I COULD NOT AGREE MORE. He was the only person that they had to care for them and that believed in them for a period of time each and now, even if Taco has Mic back, they’re both missing that bond they had with him because he’s dead (I am so MeSad). Toilet’s persistence with people would also be really important to their connection! Despite how Mephone constantly yelled at and belittled him, Toilet kept going and stayed kind and dutiful to him! And while that did make their relationship unhealthy, I think it could be beneficial to Toico friendship! Taco is trying to change and do better, but as I believe I said previously that’s not linear. She is going to lash out or fall back on old habits at some point, what matters is that she apologizes and keeps trying to be better. She’s not going to apologize to Toilet after years of this treatment like Mephone did, she will, in her process of growth, apologize to him when she knows she’s hurt him, and she will make sure to treat him better. And her doing this consistently when she messes up is key!!! Because Toilet is Toilet, we love Toilet in this house, and he’ll forgive her. And they will talk about how important Mepad was to them, and it will be healing and beautiful. Again I will be taking 0 criticism on this Toico friendship is everything to me actually. She can sit on his head like where he carried the spaghetti in episode 1. Oh no I’m listening to the cameo again and now I am crying /vpos. 

Pepper: Yeah i ship tacopep too what are you gonna do about it i want taco to be loved. But more seriously, I think these two could make a really solid connection. Pepper is another one of the season 1 contestants that didn’t interact too much with the fake-Taco that competed in season 1, so there wasn’t much of a connection there to be spoiled. She probably jumped on the hate-train thanks to Salt, but maybe she should spend a bit less time with Salt anyways, yeah? Branch out some more. Which she could do with Taco! Take one look at Taco and tell me she doesn’t love to gossip. Taco and Pepper could probably gossip for hours, I mean, Taco has surely missed a lot of gossip having been outside of the hotel for so long. And Pepper gets to lead the conversation and talk!! Taco does try to take control of situations automatically, but hey, she’s trying to change for the better, and maybe not try to scheme and mastermind quite as much, yeah? And Pepper could do well being more assertive having been made to follow whatever Salt is doing. I think this friendship would need to pick up a bit later down the line for Taco to be in a place where she isn’t trying to take over so often and Pepper to be in a place where she’s not keeping herself attached to Salt, but I do think it could be a sweet and healthy friendship! Also I tend to think of them both as lesbians and sometimes you need a lesbian best friend to discuss Women with.

Candle: Would immediately be able to tell that Taco needs some serious therapy/help. And Candle loves to be needed for therapy/help! Perfect match! But really, Candle managed to tame both Yin-Yang and Silver over the course of a season, she could definitely help Taco out!! And it would be pretty difficult for Taco to keep her true feelings hidden from someone who can tell what’s happening just by looking at her! She would hate that at first but it would be helpful for her. I do think she would dislike Candle’s salt rock thingy though, it would probably just rile her up more. BUT really I think Candle could be a good help to Taco as she recovers. Candle will help everyone after all the stuff from the finale I think, which would not at all be a way to cope with everything. Keeping herself busy. Being needed in the way she was made to need. This isn’t a Candle analysis aaaaaaaaaaaaa.

Goo: My #1 and #3 must be friends, it’s mandatory (my #2 is Mepad, of course). Taco’s miserable and messy self could absolutely use a visit from the cheer factory, and I think she’d get one! I think Goo would be able to take the news of being created by Mephone better than you’d think, honestly. His best friend was created by Fan and Test Tube, so what if they’re created by Mephone, y’know? That just makes them more like his best buddy Bot!! Not being able to be recovered might make him anxious, but that’s just an unfortunate truth that they’re all going to need to get used to. (Unless whatever the Shimmers are giving them is a recovery device. Brian said it’s up to interpretation but i do not want to interpret i want answers!!). Okay, back to Gooco friendship. He’s such a positive, genuine, and sweet little fella it’s pretty hard for anyone not to like him, and that includes Taco!! Someone she not only doesn’t have baggage with, but she has never even met coming to cheer her up? She has had very few positive interactions with others over the years, this is meaningful to her!!! Being around a positive little thinker like Goo could be good for her, AND they are at perfect hugging height for one another. I don’t see Taco giving out too much physical affection but I can very much see her enjoying it even if she won’t admit it. AND AND having lived in the woods for so long, Taco would know the best place to find his beloved pinecones.

Tea Kettle: She already has one little gremlin child in Nickel, what’s another one? Seriously!! I’m not sure if it would exactly be a friendship, probably the more motherly dynamic she has with Nickel, Balloon, and quite a few other characters, but new mom acquired is not a category so she goes here. Taco, who has been living in the woods for years needing to scavenge and steal for food, would enjoy some hors d'oeuvres!! And this would immediately endear her to Tea Kettle, since she loves it so much when people eat her food (adorable). She, like Candle, and probably everyone else at this point, would pretty easily be able to tell that Taco needs some extra TLC, and like the other s3 joiners, doesn’t have anything personal against Taco. Her motherly instincts would immediately kick in, and again such casual kindness and affection for Taco after all this time? Everything. Key to Taco’s recovery and self-betterment. Also, Taco loves tea!!! TK would refill her cup without even being asked <3. 

Tier 3: Pleasant Acquaintances 

Lightbulb: OKAY OKAY OKAY I KNOW. Lightbulb would be sweet and friendly and silly and herself and would absolutely 1000% consider herself friends with Taco! Them only being acquaintances is fully on Taco. It’s not because she has a personal problem with Lightbulb though! We have heard from the crew (questionnaire after one of the finale screenings, I believe) that Lightbulb reminds Taco a lot of how she used to act in season 1. The earlier she is in her recovery, the harder that would be for her, yeah? There’s also the fact that Lightbulb would have been her choice to partner up with had Mic been eliminated earlier. I like to interpret this as canon, not just on a meta level, that Taco actually had Lightbulb picked as her second choice. With Taco trying to be better, she’d probably feel guilty about that when interacting with Lightbulb,  and especially seeing how close she is with her allies friends. They might be able to be actual friends in the future, but in general Lightbulb might be a bit much for Taco. Though I’ll reiterate that Lightbulb would consider her a friend!! And include her in activities and be kind to her!! Because Lightbulb is sweet and lovely like that, the silliest goose of them all <3.

Apple: They’d probably interact a bit because of Taco’s friendship with Marsh, but Apple isn’t someone I’d see her seeking out for companionship, due to her being a little dumb <3. It’s okay we still love her, but Taco might not. She would be nice to Apple, because if Apple is upset then Marsh is upset at whatever caused it, yeah? And because it’s the right thing to do and all, but this latter reason might take a bit longer to kick in as Taco changes for the better.^^ Also, whether or not Apple knows that Taco was acting and isn’t just an entirely different person is still a bit muddled, so that would be a bit weird, yeah?

The Floor: Honestly just a nice, chill guy, don’t think he’d have any issues with Taco. She would see his movement as reminiscent of Mepad’s teleporting, which would give her the blues, but that’s not really Floory’s fault. Another teleporting assistant… Ah, well, my conspiracy can wait for another day. I don’t have too much to say for this pair, to be honest. I think they’d get along okay and everything, I just don’t see them seeking each other out as much as they each would with some others. Oh, they would both like to go on picnics, so that’s definitely a setting in which they’d interact! I do think The Floor and Toilet could be good friends, so they might end up hanging out together if they’re both with Toilet.^^ Besides, I can’t imagine him staying on Inanimate Island instead of returning to Paradise, since it is his home, so he’d stay more connected with the other s3 players rather than the other casts. 

Cabby: Honestly Taco would probably be a little jealous that Cabby won. Definitely impressed by her skillful observations of others, though! Taco is observant too, so they could discuss that if they are together, but I don’t think they’d actively seek each other out, like Taco and The Floor. Cabby is also more likely to return to Paradise since that is where her library was, and Taco’s history might make Cabby wary, since she struggled with being seen that way in season 3. I don’t think she’d hold it against Taco in a personal way, but it might dissuade her from really forming a bond with Taco. Overall, I love them both, they could be perfectly friendly with each other, but I don’t really see them forming a strong connection. Earlier season 3 Cabby, though? They could be the power duo of all time. Even post-canon a team up between them would be incredibly skilled and efficient, I just don’t see it as too likely to happen. 

Silver Spoon: We already know what Silver thinks of Taco! He thinks she is a Queen and an Icon and he’s right! He would approach Taco the easiest out of the invitationals, and would very much want her approval. I do not think Taco would like him very much. She’d get annoyed by him pretty easily, I think. They’re both British, so that could be a point of interest for him to try and connect for her, but seeing as neither of them are actually from Britain and were just programmed to have a British accent (and like tea!) that might fizzle out. And again the fact that Taco would not be able to stand him. Silver would try to get on her good side by complimenting her act in season 1, which would Not Sit Well with her at all. She would storm away from him and he would be devastated. It might be easier for them to interact if Candle is around to mediate, but I don’t know if they’d get along too well, at least initially. He remains in pleasant acquaintances because he is very pleasant towards her in his own Silver Spoony way, and considers her a friend, but it is one-sided, he is lying to himself <3. 

Bot: A split between Goo really liking Taco and Fan and Test Tube not being sure about her. She did shoot and kill Test Tube. And electrocuted Fan. In front of their first child. So yeah not sure their second child would be super keen on being friends with Taco, but they would still be amiable. As a part of the Cheer Factory, they’d join Goo in his cheering up quest, and they could strike up a conversation if they happened to be alone together, but this is another relationship I can’t see either party really seeking out. Their VA is British though, so Bot could probably do a fair impression of Taco. Not that Taco would like that, but y’know, it’s neat, yeah?

Blueberry: He doesn’t make many friends in general, and neither does Taco for that matter. I think combined they could be an absolutely killer duo, could dominate a competition together, but outside of that? I’d say more of a mutual sense of respect for being powerful shorties, but not much of an actual bond. He might be a welcome presence if Taco needs to stew in her negative emotions for a while, as one does, but if she wants to feel better she’d need to go to someone else. Honestly, they might be kept apart on purpose, because those little schemers could probably take over the island together if they really wanted to. But, Taco is trying to change and Mic certainly wouldn’t approve, so she wouldn’t want to. Jury’s still out on Blueberry though. Also, he’s another one I’d see returning to Paradise, less people there, yeah? So their interactions would be limited either way. 

Lifering: Nice, friendly guy! He might interact with Taco through Tea Kettle, or through general check-ups. With his medical training, or rather the knowledge he was programmed with, he’d definitely interact with everyone on both islands at one point or another. I wouldn’t imagine Taco being a big fan of such medical check-ups though, with how private of a person she generally is, and that might play into how she views him. He’d definitely do his best not to frighten anyone including Taco, and she would appreciate his work, she just wouldn’t be able to shake the lingering unease surrounding him, and he’d be able to respect that and give her space as long as she needs it. If he found her crying, he’d give her a squeeze and then get someone better equipped to help her, that sort of thing. She might eventually get more comfortable with him, and maybe they could share a plate of hors d'oeuvres, even if I don’t see them forming a super deep connection :) I think they could get along after some time. 

Tissues: I think they could have a sort of understanding in Mephone making things difficult for them. He was made to always be sick (fucked up) and she was made to manipulate and hurt people (fucked up). She might get annoyed with him, definitely, but she’d try not to. With the infinite tea generation I headcanon her having, she could pull out a nice warm cup from her shell and give it to him to soothe his sinuses and sore throat, and I think he’d really appreciate that. There’s also an advantage to the fact that they’re only meeting after the big reveal of all the contestants being made by Mephone and running the red line game, Taco’s never been annoyed, hateful, or mocking towards him about his sickness. Tissues is owed a lot of apologies from quite a few cast members, and Taco is actually not one of them! They can also both pull things out of their heads, which I think is cute. That wouldn’t really contribute to a relationship. I just like little guys who can pull things out of their heads!!!^^

Clover: Like Lightbulb, I think Clover would consider Taco a friend! She’d consider pretty much everyone a friend, the sweetheart she is. As Brian once posted, she would find Taco very funny! Taco is trying to change though, so wouldn’t want to be seeing Clover as useful. She might be interested in the luck stuff, but the happy-go-lucky attitude might be a bit much for Taco. Trying to plan for Clover’s luck would be insanely frustrating, since schemes aren’t the only thing Taco could plan(!), and that might turn Taco away from Clover. She’s yet another one I see returning to Paradise, so they wouldn’t interact much, which is probably for the better on Taco’s end. Taco would probably like the butterflies though, because who doesn’t like butterflies, yeah?

Tier 4: Neutral

Bomb: Didn’t really interact with Taco in the first season, despite having been in an alliance with her for a short time, but he is clearly good friends with Pickle, so he wouldn’t be reaching out to her any time soon. Not that I think Pickle would be explicitly telling anyone or even hinting to them not to be friends with Taco even if he himself doesn’t want to, he’s not that kind of guy, but I think Bomb would stick close to Pickle, which means not interacting with Taco much. Yeah, he wasn’t personally hurt by her betrayal or anything, but he mostly knows her as the person who hurt his bestie Pickle, so not exactly keen on her either. Taco would be pretty neutral on him right back, but would be glad that Pickle has made new friends and is being well taken-care of despite everything that went down between them. 

Knife: Hoo boy, okay, he is in the neutral category, but feel free to read him as “it’s complicated.” He’s also close with Pickle, seeing firsthand and likely the most of how Taco’s betrayal impacted him, and he was watching over Mic during and after her alliance with Taco, so he isn’t exactly happy with her. But as was confirmed by Brian, so you can’t argue with me on this one, he does care for her well-being. He sees some of himself in Taco. As much as he accuses Taco of projecting onto him in Truth or Flare, they’re really both projecting onto each other. Taco also cares about his well-being!!! (this is also confirmed by brian) Whether or not it’s because he’s someone close to Pickle and Mic, she does care, even if she doesn’t show it. Knife is dead now, too. That might complicate things. Taco though she would be dead forever, and hell, she might have been if Knife hadn’t put pressure on Mephone with Mepad, while Knife spent most of his life thinking of death as meaningless and something that barely even applied to him. One of them survived, and one of them didn’t. They’re such an interesting duo, I really really want to know more of the plan for that body swap episode so so so bad!! Anyone wanna venmo me 30 bucks to get another cameo from Justin so I can fish for info? /j Anyways. Knife would be very wary of her reconciling with Mic and would be watchful to make sure she doesn’t bother Pickle, but he would be proud, in a sense, seeing how she improves. I can’t say he’d help much, as I’m not sure if his tough-love sort of help for people would be super beneficial for Taco, and they’re still not super friendly, but I think they could have a moment of getting along-ness every once in a while. Suitcase might rub off on Knife even more with her never-give-up-on-anyone philosophy, which would lead him to back off on keeping an eye on her a bit more. If anything were to happen to Mic, she would be well protected by these two. AAAAAAAA. Taco and Knife are such an interesting duo, I can’t emphasize this enough. Knife who has already changed, and Taco is who is starting to change. This one has gotten way too long, in short, it’s complicated but more positive than negative post-finale. 

Paintbrush: As long as Taco isn’t mean to Lightbulb, I don’t think Painty would feel too strongly either way. Probably unhappy when they find out that Taco shot two of their friends but. They seemed pretty okay with Taco’s presence in act II of the movie, and weren’t incredibly harsh on Taco during the pre-act II stream (if I recall correctly, this one is a bit more blurry tbh) even if they weren’t very pro-Taco either. Didn’t have an extreme reaction to Lightbulb mentioning Taco when they showed up during Truth or Flare either, so that’s another point towards Painty being neutral towards Taco. Might even empathize with how quick-to-anger Taco can be, she could get invited to a painting lesson or something. But really, as long as Taco is civil with Lightbulb (and Baxter), and doesn’t murder Fan or Test Tube again, I think they can coexist without any malice or issues. 

Yin-Yang: Yang would like Taco a lot! Yin would be kind of scared of her. Thus, neutral. Yang would admire her sabotage and trickery, which isn’t exactly what she wants to be liked for, but, well, it’s Yang so he’s gonna do what he wants. Yin would be pretty wary of her, and probably avoid her in fear of whatever mischief she and Yang could create with their powers combined. My partner once drew a cute illustration of Yin-Yang stealing and eating a topping out of her head, which I liked very much, and were that to happen I think Taco would dislike Yin-Yang. It would be very rude to eat one of her toppings, especially without asking first. My partner, who I regard as the resident Yin-Yang expert between us, also mentioned them both having a “that-could-have-been-me” sort of connection with OJ, in the sense of how Taco was so close to getting the win that OJ got, and Yin-Yang was so close to getting eliminated instead of OJ. Had it not been for the immunity votes, Yin-Yang would have been the first Thinker out. Had it not been for Bow and all the other chaos that was going down during season 1’s finale, Taco would have been the first winner of Inanimate Insanity. And we know that Yin-Yang and OJ clashed during their residence in the Hotel, and Taco just dislikes OJ after everything, so maybe they could have a little anti-OJ club to get their frustrations out, who knows. Suitcase is still a bit miffed about him eliminating her unfairly that one time, so maybe she could join a little complain-about-OJ session once in a while. 

Box: New to the group, so probably doesn’t even find out about Taco’s past for some time, but at the same time she isn’t the most social tool on the shed. And neither is Taco. So I can’t see either one reaching out to the other for a friendship. Box might like that Taco never pretended their corpse was alive, even if it was possibly because she never had the opportunity to interact with Box in general. I might see Taco taking more of the Trophy stance in that she doesn’t see Box’s corpse as alive, which, since it was a corpse, is objectively correct. Albeit with less violence than Trophy handled Box with. They might talk due to both of them being around Suitcase from time to time, but I’d more view them as two relatively introverted people who simply don’t seek a connection with each other. [Also, putting a Box conspiracy here, but does anyone else think her inclusion specifically is why season 2 had an uneven amount of contestants in-canon. Like, the season 2 cast would have been developed before the whole MeLife twist, but on a non-meta level, it was probably Box being included in the cast that made the numbers wonky. 19 contestants? A prime number? What? 18 would make sense, or 20, but 19? Because Box was added in with the actual living contestants, because Mephone couldn’t bring himself to exclude her, which brought the number of players up to 19. Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.]

Cherries: Probably a bit childish for Taco’s taste in friends. And for Cherries, them always wanting a reaction… Well if Taco was pranked, she would not react well, and they might be hard pressed to get her to laugh especially if she already dislikes them due to being pranked. She is quite the actor, so even if she does find a joke or two funny, she’s not gonna break. And then Cherries would get bored of trying to make her laugh, and move on to someone they can get a better reaction from. Unless they try roping Taco into their little schemes before they prank her, then I can see a more positive relationship forming. Either way, I don’t see them as consistently seeking each other out for companionship. 

Fan: Taco electrocuted him that one time. So, not exactly a great start. Especially since it was while he was talking to the Shimmers. The Shimmers, one of which was his infant child… A really bad start, then. I don’t see Fan as a very hateful guy, honestly. Passionate, sure, but doesn’t strike me as the type to stay angry for very long. He wouldn’t be approaching Taco for friendship any time soon, and would probably tell Bot that they should be wary around her, but I also think he would respect Taco’s effort to change and let bygones be bygones in the end. Taco probably wouldn’t approach him either, other than apologizing for electrocuting him and shooting Test Tube (she should apologize for that, and Mic would make sure she does). Would probably want to know more about Taco’s strategy and experiences during the first season, but also has the self-restraint not to ask. 

Test Tube: Less forgiving than Fan, but would follow his lead in not holding a huge grudge towards her. She wouldn’t trust Taco at all, but she wouldn’t fall into malicious territory like what ended up happening with Cabby. Taco would be wary of Test Tube too, especially after the other apology she gives Test Tube, for breaking into her “secret” lab and stealing things. Testy might actually take that one worse than the apology for murdering her. Despite that, I do see Test Tube letting Taco keep the white invisibow that Mepad was wearing when he was killed. This would probably happen before Taco confesses to murder, assault, breaking and entering, and theft anyways, but I see Test Tube letting her keep it. Random act of kindness while Taco is mourning him, yeah? She is the one who gave him the bow after all. Testy wouldn’t love Taco, and would also warn Bot to be careful around her and come to her right away if she has any problems, but could coexist with Taco. 

Tier 5: No

Mephone: Yeah, this is an obvious one. Beyond the fact that he’s left to give the contestants space, at least for the time being, Taco would be pretty damn mad at him after everything. Whether he made them subconsciously or not, he made her to be manipulative and unpredictable and to betray the people she cares about. Thinking further on that, he also didn’t plan anything good for her, unlike other villainous characters. Balloon and Knife both got redemption arcs, Silver got a girlboss, but Taco? She got another “ally” to inevitably lose, years of homelessness and isolation, and not even a million squats. Not to mention his reaction to her during Truth or Flare. Sure, it is reasonable for him not to want to see her, especially with how she acts in the episode, but not wanting to recover her? That’s really fucked up. Seriously. Thank god for Mepad. I can and would very much argue that Taco is the most mistreated contestant by Mephone4. She would not want to see him ever again, and I think if she did see him and he tried to talk with her it would not go well. So, this one is a definite no. 

OJ: She and OJ did interact relatively frequently in season 1, and while I’m not sure exactly how betrayed he would have felt by her revealing her true nature, he would not like having been fooled and would very much have not liked her trying to steal his prize. I can’t see them ever really getting along again. Even if Taco does apologize to him (and out of everyone she probably should apologize to, she would hate this one the most), I don’t see that doing much. OJ is another person that saw how her betrayal affected Pickle pretty closely, and he’d still hold at least a little grudge over that. Although, if you take the “built to win” line seriously like I do, (and Brian said in the 700k stream that it was up to interpretation- hah! Vindication! Kind of! Enough for me!!!) their dynamic can be a lot more interesting. And even though I don’t see them ever being friends again, I do see them at some point having a moment in which they both say something like “these guys are all so weird” and then looking at each other awkwardly and proceeding to ignore each other entirely for the next week or so. They’re both drama queens, yeah, but in comparison to some of the other characters they can be a bit more… reasonable? Doesn’t seem like quite the right word. Grounded? Doesn’t seem right either. Hopefully this is still comprehensible, but regardless, these two would not be friends.

Paper: My guy screeched in terror when she was seen in the hotel. I don’t think it’s gonna happen, especially if OJ isn’t befriending her in any way. He wouldn’t be happy about her trying to steal his boyfriend’s prize and is another who got to see Pickle growing depressed after her betrayal, so he’d keep his negative view on her. I don’t think he’d be as scared of her post-canon, especially seeing her trying to avoid violence by Mic’s demand, so I suppose that’s something. I am so very sorry, menu squad fans, I love them too, but I think that ship has long since sailed. I honestly don’t have very much to say for Paper, I feel like he’s a pretty obvious one, though they don’t actually interact that much. He doesn’t like her, and has a boyfriend who really doesn’t like her, so they’re not going to be connecting any time soon. I do think he would feel more sympathetic to her plights than OJ, as the more emotionally intelligent one between them, but would leave helping her to people closer to her. 

Salt: Taco would find her annoying, mostly. Especially after she and Pepper become friends, and Pepper vents about some of her frustrations with Salt to Taco, Taco wouldn’t be a fan of hers. Salt wouldn’t like Taco because she tried to steal OJ’s prize, and Salt is all gross and very weird about OJ. There’s a reason why she got the least votes in the latest plushie poll. Even Taco, who doesn’t really like Paper or OJ, would want Salt to back off and tell her to do so even if she had to be a tad aggressive about it. It shouldn’t always have to fall on poor Pepper especially when she starts branching out towards new people and relationships. Taco wouldn't be payjay's biggest fan or anything, but she wouldn't be upset over them or anything. Taco herself is gay. WLW and MLM solidarity!!!!

Trophy: She would beat him in a bunch of stuff (some by cheating, some fairly) and he would hate her like the sore loser of all time he is. She would probably just find him annoying, like a less-tolerable version of Blueberry, maybe. I can see them both getting banned from game night, Trophy because he can’t take a loss and Taco for cheating, of course, and attempting to hang out together in protest. I suppose they could bond that way, but I’d lean more towards them either arguing or getting annoyed with each other and agreeing to never hang out again. Might casually flip each other off in the hallways, not from hatred but from mutual acknowledgment that the other is kind of an asshole sometimes. I think it’s beautiful <3. 

Dough: She’d only have to see him when she’s in the mansion, which is definitely for the best. They wouldn’t seek each other out, ever. Taco would find him very annoying, and would hate any and all of his Bow imitating or discussion. She never met him, she does not care about him, and he’d probably feel the same way about her. Not much to say about this one, but I. Well. It’s Dough. I’m so sorry Dough fans but I have never had much to say about him. 

Cheesy: Yeah Taco would find him annoying too. He and Mic are on better terms now, so they might sometimes find themselves in the same place, but Taco might soon have to leave that place because she is getting so annoyed with him. He probably wouldn’t dislike her or anything, but he wouldn’t really like her either, seeing as she wouldn’t be the best audience member for him. Poor guy is gonna have to find some new material again, seeing as none of them have mamas and bringing that up is definitely in poor taste at the moment. Yikers. But yeah, another one who will not be friends with Taco because they would be too much for her. 

Bow: Taco’s least favorite person! Bow is the reason that Taco lost season 1, and I don’t think Taco is ever going to get over that. (Especially if you interpret the “built to win” line literally like I do~~~). Taco would avoid her like the plague, and probably regard her as a plague on the world too. Would very much not enjoy having to live in the same building as Bow, for however long it takes until they have another building established, since Taco would probably move out the second she could as long as Mic was down to move with her. Anything to get away from Bow. I can not emphasize enough how much Taco hates Bow. Despises her. Would rather stick her arms into a pothole full of piranhas than be in Bow’s presence. That plastic pink headgear is the absolute worst object on the planet to her. Bow doesn’t really care either way. Unless Taco is openly aggressive to her, she’s neutral. But Taco would probably antagonize her at one point or another, so Bow would probably end up disliking her too, just not as passionately.

Tier 6: Pickle

Pickle: Sigh. My fellow Taco lovers. It’s not gonna happen, guys. Pickle and Taco friendship is not going to happen ever again. I KNOW. Taco wants it!! You want it!! I want it too!!! I have been a fan since season 1 was airing, I of all people would love to see them be friends again. But Pickle doesn’t want that, so I’m going to respect it. Taco would probably try apologizing to him once or twice more before backing off, probably being able to do so and really start to move on with the help of Mic, Nickel, and/or Marsh. She does shake her head and move past things during the red line game! It’s a good start! Even if I think she would give it another shot (because in apologizing more she comes to realize how bad her first apology was. Yeesh. Girl I’m your biggest supporter, I am a certified Taco apologist, but damn). But! Regardless of the fact that they’re not going to be friends again, it’s not as though they’re going to be enemies! Taco wants to be better, especially towards Pickle. And as for Pickle, he just isn’t that sort of guy, yeah? He doesn’t want to be friends with Taco or give her another chance, which is fully fair and valid, but it’s not as though he wants her to suffer either!! If she like, fell and broke her leg or smth, he would willingly carry her to get help, yeah? If they both happen to be in the kitchen and she’s struggling to reach something on the top shelf, he’d grab it for her. He’s chill and especially after a longer period of time when he’s been able to heal further and be okay with seeing her around, they could just be… okay. Not friends, but okay. He would show up to the Tacomic wedding. 

Tier 7: PLEASE COME BACK I MISS YOU SO MUCH

Mepad: PLEASE COME BACK KING I CAN’T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU SUPPORTIVE ICON. HE IS IN TIER 7 BECAUSE HE IS DEAD AND THAT MAKES ME SO VERY SAD. I MISS YOU SO MUCH MEPAD MY BELOVED MEPAD. I MISS THE OLD SEASON 2 UPLOAD SCHEDULE I CAN’T HANDLE TACOPAD GETTING GIVEN TO US AND TAKEN AWAY WITHIN LIKE 4 MONTHS. GIVE US 4 YEARS AS GOD INTENDED /J. ANYWAYS MEPAD WOULD BE ON THE TIPPY TOP TIER IF HE WAS STILL ALIVE MY WONDERFUL MEPAD YOU WILL BE FOREVER IN MY HEART. ONCE I GET MY HANDS ON YOUR PLUSHIE I WILL MAKE YOU AND MY TACO PLUSH HUG IT IS MANDATORY. 

Okay, 13 pages later and that’s everyone! If you’ve read every entry, wow!!! Thanks!!! That’s a lot of reading and a lot of rambles you saw!!! If you skipped to your favorites, that’s also fair!!! Thanks for reading either way!!!^^ I have so very many thoughts about Taco, so it’s nice to get some written out!! :3

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[bones4thecats]

Hi! I was wondering if you can do Poseidon X Goddess of music!Reader and the reader rarely come out of her house and if she does for example: when she goes to any meeting she always has this mask on:

and she always sits next to Poseidon for some reason she feels safe with him...?

Thanks if you do this request!

<3

God of Music! S/O Feeling Protected

Type of Writing: Request Character: Poseidon Name: God of Music! S/O Feeling Protected Requester: @imperfectbloodmoon

A/N: These may not be the best thing I've ever written, but I'm trying my best to keep up with stuff from my classes and with these requests. But, I do hope you guys enjoy this!

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🔱 Alright, let's get one thing clear; Poseidon is a fairly oblivious man when it comes to emotions, which should be obvious

🔱 Poseidon was fairly wary when you first started to get close to him. He just isn't used to anyone trying to bond with him in any way, because many see him as a dangerous being

🔱 Which he technically is

🔱 Now, if you were a mortal or nymph, this guy would just push you aside and claim you to be a worthless being, not worthy of his time and patience

🔱 But, once he asked you who you were and you introduced yourself as the Deity of Music within the Greek Pantheon, working alongside that of Hermes and Apollo, he began to see you with more worth

🔱 Poseidon enjoys listening to your songs that you either sing or play on an instrument. He personally enjoys more slow and calming songs while he looks over his underwater kingdom

🔱 And he does enjoy your more reclusive nature, since he's not a very large people-person himself

🔱 He understands a lot more about you than anyone could realize, even yourself for that matter

🔱 But one thing he never fully understood was your need to wear that beautifully decorated mask that covered your entire face whenever you were to leave your shared home

🔱 Poseidon has claimed his love for both your personality and your looks often, though he's fairly monotone sounding, you can hear the amount of pulsing emotion underneath

🔱 Whenever he gets notice that one of his brothers is coming over, he tries to get you to keep the mask off; these are your family members, after all. They know how you look because they attended your wedding all those centuries ago

🔱 If you were to give him a good reason (such as; you didn't want Zeus to try protruding into your backside) then he would understand a bit better. But if you claimed you believed you didn't look good enough, he'd be beyond shocked

🔱 Like I mentioned earlier, Poseidon has claimed his love for both your personality and physical appearance. So the fact that you would still be insecure would make him feel the need to prove you were beyond good enough for a God like him

🔱 Okay, beyond the topic of the role and mask. He, like I also mentioned, doesn't understand emotions fully

🔱 Because of this, Poseidon is quite confused whenever you wanted to sit by him (before your relationship) at meetings, since normally everyone, deities included, were scared of him

🔱 Yet, every time you sat beside him, he never tried pushing you away, much to both of yours and everyone else's surprise

🔱 Despite his inability to understand why you personally wanted to be beside him, he does have quite a few hunches that many believe is true

🔱 One is that you wanted to be by someone who you knew wouldn't be to loud, the second is that you wanted to be closer to him, as he is in your pantheon, and his third one is that you wanted to be with somebody because you wanted to feel safer and protected from other Gods who may have bad intentions

🔱 Poseidon always mainly leans to the third one

🔱 After you guys started your relationship and got married, he started to have you sit right next to him. And by that, I mean by he'd have you sit either on his lap or right beside him

🔱 If I haven't mentioned it, he's possessive of what he deems to be his. Yes, he does allow you to be your own person, but he doesn't want anyone to get any ideas; specifically Zeus

🔱 He cannot keep his hands to himself, and that is coming from his own older brother!

[yuri-is-online]

TDB Episode 7 Thoughts

So this episode sort of felt like a filler chapter between "Meeting the Ghouls" and "the Laurel Crown" arcs of the story. I didn't mind since I really like Yuri and Jiro's dynamic, but the pacing of the story was very quick and not a whole lot happened, after an Episode as loaded with action as Obscuary's it can feel a bit like a let down.

Now as for specific thoughts:

I want to start by saying I appreciate how Yuri doesn't believe in the prophecy because it isn't scientific but 100% thinks he is the chosen one, the champion anyway. Yes, have that self confidence that is nothing but a paper shell built on lies to cover your insecurities king! We love a pathetic meow meow in this house!

His connection to Frostheim... I have had this crack theory in my head that he is related to Jin somehow, like maybe he's his brother or something, but I do think how he talks about Frostheim makes me think he is either a transfer to Mortranken or used to be closer to Jin than he is now. We all are pretty sold on Haku being the one who sold Jin out, but there is a chance it could have been Yuri too I suppose.

We were right! Zenji and Jiro are brothers! And we have Zenji's real name, Taro Kirisaki! He doesn't seem to hate it or anything he is just really proud of his role as a man of the quill so he uses a pen name.

Zenji really loves his brother huh. "If anything were to happen to him I might not survive it this time round" I'd be willing to bet that whatever happened to the Krisaki brothers was connected, it's just that Zenji got dumped at Darkwick General while Jiro was taken in by Yuri. Zenji's voicelines about a brother "in his rebellious phase" and his struggle to express his love for his older brother makes me think they might have been at odds before the clash... maybe Jiro hated how laid back Zenji was when he literally made a deal with a demon? Of course he did too... but maybe Zenji's was related to trying to make Jiro healthy? He seems to have some sort of auto-immune disease and while that could be a side-effect of the coma but it could also be something Jiro's always struggled with and explain why Zenji is so protective of him. I bet they were killed by the same anomaly...

Sorry I have a lot of feelings about the Kirisaki brothers... what happened to them? Why does no one care that they're dead and dying other than Yuri? I don't think Zenji cares that much that Jiro doesn't remember him so long as he's alive... but would it bother Jiro if he could remember? Does he ever find himself making tea and turn to scold someone for talking too much, he's being annoying again but there isn't anyone there and he doesn't know who he's scolding because it wasn't Yuri... does he know how to make tea because Zenji insisted on teaching him? Is Zenji the one who he would tease about being afraid of dead bodies before MC?

Right on not simp notes: we have more information about the murder, the victim was from Ultio! And the murder predated the Clash so it's pretty safe to say the inability of the school to find the murderer is probably what kicked things off.

We also have hints of a mermaid student, so be patient fish fuckers we- I mean you will be getting fed soon. This student seems to be known to Yuri and Haru, and Haru's reaction suggests he might think of him as a friend? He's not beating the Steve Irwin allegations is he, I'm surprised Ed isn't obsessed with him at this point. Then again I think Ed would resent me implying he's an animal, but we've seen the inside of his room so I rest my case.

Nicholas appears to be in hot water with the Institute, and he is not trusted by Yuri. Cornelius references something he calls "the Dionysia breakout" as being Nicholas's fault to contain... given that those students are missing and Nicholas has only recently found them... I want more information before I say anything but Yuri's explanation of how he sees anomalous anything illnesses I think it makes sense to say an anomaly outbreak occurred in the Dionysia dorm that was not contained by its ghouls, something the school blames Nicholas for.

The school knew the MC was going to turn into an anomaly and did not tell her "for her mental health." I like MC's mixed feelings on this. On the one hand I don't think she would have handled it well if we had learned it immediately. On the other, I am a firm believer that information is not something that should be gate kept, and hey. It's the MC's life she deserves to know what happened to her. I think I land on not trusting Darkwick but I do trust Yuri, I want to know why he's so determined to cure MC but I don't doubt his sincerity in the slightest. If I had to say who is most determined to see MC cured, I'd say its Yuri and Haru. And Zenji but he's out of commission at the moment. Yuri has an ego the size of his forehead, but he does seem very passionate about curing anomalous diseases and takes failures a bit more personally than he'll ever admit to. Haru is just a stand up guy who seems like he wants the best for those he loves, and he really does seem to love MC! He says he'd trust her with his life! That's my dorm captain he's literally the best <3

The tree is curious, one of the fruits looked a bit better, but then it shrunk after the announcement of the Laurel Crown and the Gala coming back... which I guess makes sense? The ghouls are fighting again, technically, and if their hate for each other is what makes the tree sick then I don't think it is going to get better. Speaking of the tree... poor MC.

Yuri's description of an anomaly that could destroy the world does match up with how Ed describes the Kyklos. Dani and I talked about this already, but that name (in addition to being super similar sounding to cyclops explaining why she has one eye) is ancient greek for cycle. It is typically used to refer to a theory about human history that depicts it as being a cycle between Dark and Golden ages, how this monster came to be is something I'd be super interested to learn about... I have some theories but they're 100% pure Colombian crack with no evidence.

That being said, Ed knows what it is but Darkwick's staff does not... Ed revealing the MC is going to turn into a monster to the whole student body makes a lot of sense for him to do actually. He sees it as him helping the MC because he wants the ghouls to compete to cure her, and knowing how he thinks of humans he probably assumed they wouldn't do so unless there was an incentive so that's why he made that the goal the dorms would have to meet to win the Laurel Crown.

Speaking of which... Sho. Shohei. Hyde has him doing a special mission, wonder what that is huh? Whatever it is, that's suspicious. That's weird. I've got both my eyes on you Mr. Playboy, Lyca wouldn't do this to me maybe he should get to keep the babygirl title.

... also I really love the "if it were not for the laws of this land I would have killed you" vibes Rui, Tohma, and Haku had during their little conversation. I was dying, "oh hiiiii Rui :D so nice to see you NOT IN THE SHADOWS STALKING ME. DID YOU KNOW HE CAN DO THAT MC? GO INTO SHADOWS AND STALK YOU? NO???" Haku just being like "teehee maybe MC and I are a thing Tohma" and Tohma leaving that on read because who cares? Not him his interests are classified but I swear its ntr- *i am shot and dragged from the premises*

[atombombkaytee]

I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.

I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.

At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.

When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.

But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.

Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”

My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.

“You comin’?”

Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.

ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 4 - First

Content includes: Ace x reader, reader is referred to as "Prefect", getting together, gender neutral reader, author's inability to write Ace properly

Ace Trappola was a lot of firsts for you. He was the first person you truly considered a friend in Twisted Wonderland, along with Deuce and Grim. He was the first person to jump to your aid when you were threatened by Riddle during his Overblot, even if it meant putting himself in danger. He’s the first to congratulate you when you do well on an exam, even if it is in his own teasing way. 

He was also the first boy you ever loved. 

It was hard not to fall for Ace Trappola. He was the most average teenage boy you’d ever met, all false confidence and teasing remarks, but he was also much, much more than that. He was your best friend, someone you trusted more than anyone else. 

But you never once thought it would go anywhere. 

The day started like any other. You were lounging around Ramshackle, enjoying your day off from classes. As far as you were concerned, you had absolutely nothing to do today, and you were more than happy to curl up on your ratty couch with Grim and chill.

And then your phone rang, and all of your (lack of) plans were thrown out the window. 

You groan when you see the caller I.D., already knowing exactly what’s about to happen. Still, you pick up, unable to resist a call from him. 

“Hey Prefect, how’s it goin’?” Ace’s voice comes through the speaker, sounding shaky, almost as if he’s running. He’s also doing that thing where he pretends to sound casual, which means he’s about to ask you for a favor. You cut to the chase, telling him to just spill it already. 

“Jeez, harsh much? Can’t a guy just call up his friend for a chat?” After a curt ‘no’ from you, he sighs, confirming exactly what you already suspected. “Okay, so I may have upset Riddle again, but it’s not my fault most of these rules are so stupid. Anyway, I’m heading over to you, so be prepared. K, bye.”

And with that, he hangs up before you can get a word in. It doesn’t matter anyway, as you wouldn’t have denied him even if you wanted to. Even if it’ll get you in trouble, you always let him crash with you when he needs it. 

Soon enough, you hear erratic knocking on your door, and you open it to find Ace hunched over, panting as he attempts to catch his breath. 

You step aside to let him in, and he saunters in like he hadn’t been practically dying not two seconds ago. “Thanks Prefect, you always know how to help a guy out.” He flops down on your couch, scaring Grim, who promptly shouts at him before jumping down to wander off. 

After a moment, you join him, sitting next to him on the opposite end of the couch. You remain like that for a while, just sitting in silence and watching whatever you had on your tv. 

Clearly, this silence is too much for Ace since you can see him fidgeting out of the corner of your eye. He’s never been the best at sitting in silence like this, especially not when around someone else. 

Awkwardly, he clears his throat, trying to get your attention. He already had it, as per usual, but he doesn’t need to know that. 

He turns to face you, curling up so that his back is against the armrest of the couch. You do the same, mirroring his position. You sit like that for a moment, not quite sure what he wanted. It seemed like he had something to say, but now he’s just staring at you. You give him a look, prompting him to speak. 

“Well, only because you asked.” He huffs, pretending to be annoyed, but you can read him well enough by now. He’s happy you prompted him. “So, not to get all sappy, because gross, but, seriously, thank you. I know I can kinda be a pain sometimes, but you’re always so willing to put up with me. I don’t know why, but you are and… and I really appreciate that.”

He turns away, obviously flustered by the confession. You laugh a little, a mixture between surprise and amusement. It must have taken a lot of courage for him to confess something like that to you, not to mention how much he probably had to fight against his ego to get so sappy. 

At your laugh, he chucks a pillow at you, but it holds no force behind it. You catch it easily, holding it in your lap as you continue to watch him. His confession made you happy, of course, but you’re not quite sure how to take it. He could have easily just meant it in a friendly way. After all, the two of you are friends. Best friends. But, a small voice in the back of your mind holds out hope that maybe, just maybe, he meant it differently. 

Eventually, you pluck up the courage to ask what brought this on all of a sudden. Ace may be your best friend, but he’s not the type to get sappy at all. He sits there for a second, no doubt thinking over how he wants to answer your question. 

“There’s no getting past you, is there Prefect? Fine, I’ll give.” He takes a deep breath, and it’s obvious that whatever he’s about to say has been weighing on him for a while. 

“I like ya, Prefect. Like, as more than a friend. Also, I lied about Riddle being mad at me today. Actually, he was kinda helping me out. He’s kinda the one who made me realize I like you, as cringy as that sounds. I was running ‘cause I wanted to get over here quicker so I could see you. Sorry, for lying and all. I just didn’t know how else to do this.”

You sit there, stunned that he would admit it so easily. But, at the same time, you’re glad. It makes your feelings a lot easier to process. 

It also makes your next move feel a lot less embarrassing. 

You put the pillow aside before crawling over to his side of the couch. You can see his face flush in embarrassment, and he questions what you’re doing. Before he can start teasing you, you lean in and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. 

It’s a quick kiss, only lasting a couple of seconds, but it conveys all of your emotions. When you pull back, Ace is smiling like the dork he is, and you’re sure you look the same. 

Without another word, Ace grabs the front of your shirt, pulling you back in for another kiss. 

Ace Trappola has been all of your firsts during your time in this world. And, hopefully, he’ll continue his streak.

[sequinsmile-x]

Something About Him Is Made for Somebody Like Me

A local detective is flirting with Aaron, and Emily is absolutely, definitely, not jealous.

(Except, she totally is.)

-x-

Hi besties,

It's been a while since I wrote one of them being jealous, so I thought it was time to rectify that!

This is just some silliness, and a lot of soft Hotchniss (softniss?!) to hopefully make your day better <3

As always, let me know what you think!

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 2.1k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She wasn’t jealous. 

It’s something she’s told herself, as well as JJ and Derek whenever they take the opportunity to tease her, again and again over the last few days. A mantra she’d started as soon as it became clear that the lead detective on the case they’d been called away on, the case that had pulled Emily out of Aaron’s arms and his warm bed, was flirting with her boyfriend. 

Detective Sarah Moyes was a smart, funny and beautiful woman, and the worst part was that she was nice too, so Emily had no real reason to dislike her, other than the relentless flirting with Aaron. She smiled at him constantly, made a point of ensuring her fingers lingered over his as she passed him a file. It would be subtle to anyone who wasn’t trained in studying human behaviour, and for the first time in a long time, Emily found herself cursing her skills.

“If it helps,” Dave says as he sidles into the kitchen next to her, his smile annoyingly mischievous, “He hasn’t noticed.” 

She sighs, also cursing the skills of her friends and their ability to see what her wonderful, stupid, handsome boyfriend hadn’t been able to see for himself. “I know he hasn’t,” she grumbles, “That somehow makes it worse.” 

Aaron had told her, more than once, that he didn’t understand what she saw in him. It made her ache, made her crack in her chest that he didn’t see his own worth. That he didn’t see how kind, intelligent, funny and handsome he was, or how he was the best man she’d ever met. The way he loved her, the way he cared for her, had been hard to get used to at first. It was so different to how partners had treated her before, both men and women who had always seemed more interested in being seen with her than actually being with her, and she’d struggled to handle it. She’d yelled at him more than once, tried to bait him into arguments that he would not take part in, all too aware of what she was doing, frustratingly patient with her as he helped her work through her inability to let him love her. 

She was used to it now, to the point where she was afraid to live without it. She felt protective over him and their love for each other, so it didn’t take a behavioural analyst to know why Detective Moyes was irritating her so much. 

Emily’s attention is pulled towards them again when she hears Detective Moye’s laugh, and she sighs, clenching her teeth as she looks back down at her cup of tea. 

It also didn’t help that she looked exactly like Haley and Kate Joyner and, therefore, through no fault of her own, fed into Emily’s biggest insecurity in her relationship with Aaron.

“You should talk to him about it.” 

She scoffs as she looks up again. “And tell him what?” 

“Well, maybe start by telling him you’re jealous.”

She looks at him sharply, her eyes narrowing as he has the audacity to laugh at her, “I am not jealous.” 

“Right, of course not.” Dave clears his throat and pats her on the shoulder as he starts to walk away. “I believe you, bella. Thousands wouldn’t.” 

She curses under her breath at him and looks up just in time to see Detective Moyes place her hand on Aaron’s arms, and Emily holds her cup of tea so tightly she’s surprised the handle doesn’t snap off.

“Crap,” she mutters to herself as she sips her drink, desperately trying to look anywhere other than the woman man-handling her boyfriend. 

She was definitely jealous. 

___

She gets to the end of the day without losing her cool and slinks off to her room the moment dinner is over. She has a long, hot, shower - desperately ignoring the crap water pressure and the lack of her tall handsome boyfriend in there with her - and changes into a t-shirt of Aaron’s that she’d taken from him weeks ago. She’s just about ready to slip into bed, to read the book she’d only just remembered to pack, when she hears a familiar knock on the door. She knows it’s him without needing to look, but she does anyway, smiling to herself when she sees him through the peephole, the distortion of it making him seem even taller. 

“Hi,” She smiles at him as she pulls the door open and stands back to let him in, suddenly all too aware that she’s only wearing a large t-shirt and anyone could walk past her room. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming by tonight.” 

Even though everyone knew about them these days, plausible deniability was still important, so they still had their own rooms on cases, but they never slept alone. She’d either sneak into his room, or he’d sneak into hers. Taking turns to seek the other out so they could sleep pressed against each other, wrapped up in the love they’d both long given up on feeling in this life. 

“Never,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss her, his lips stamped against hers before he tugs her into a hug, using their height difference due to her being barefoot to his advantage, his chin resting on top of her head as she hugs him bck just as fiercely, “I missed you today.” 

She kisses his chest and pulls back, her lips pressed together to try to contain her smile as she pushes her fingers through his hair. “We spent most of the day together,” she says teasingly, scratching her short nails over the first signs of his facial hair as she cups his cheek, “Apart from when I went with Dave to do that interview.” 

“I know,” he replies, his hand sprawled on her back to hold her close, as if there was anywhere else she’d rather be, “But I can’t do this when we’re working,” he says before he leans in to kiss her, taking his time with it as he cups the back of her head, drawing a contended sigh out of her before he pulls back.

She hums, licking her lower lip to chase the taste of him, “True,” she says, smiling up at him, “And if you kissed me like that, you’d have to kiss everyone like that just to be fair,” she quips, her smile getting wider when he laughs, “And you’re all mine.” 

“All yours, sweetheart.” he stamps his lips against hers again, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes her smile falter for just a second, his unknowing reassurance bringing back everything she’d been trying to pretend she hadn’t been feeling all day, “What’s wrong?” 

She blows out a slow breath and avoids his eye contact, knowing she’d crack if she saw anything close to the kindness from him that she’d become frustratingly used to. “Nothing.” 

“Em,” he says, reaching for her hand and squeezing it, his smile just as soft as she knew it would be when she looks up at him, “You can tell me anything, you know that.” 

She huffs this time, scrunching her nose up as she practices what she wants to say in her head, every word of it feeling more ridiculous each time she tries to rephrase it. “It’s…silly.” 

He cups her face to stop her from looking away, and he runs his thumb over her cheekbone, his calluses tracing a small patch of freckles he’d become obsessed with the moment he saw them for the first time. You could only see them when you were this close to her and she was bare-faced. It felt like a part of her that was just his - usually hidden away by her makeup or distance. 

“You’re never silly,” he says, and she has to stop herself from smiling at how earnest he sounds, as if she could tell him that she thought that chocolate milk came from brown cows and he’d simply nod along. She shakes her head, unsure if she’s shaking her head at him or herself, or both of them, and she sighs. 

“Detective Moyes has been flirting with you for days,” she says, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she finally says it outloud. “It’s driving me crazy.” 

He frowns, and he’s about to deny it, playing back everything Detective Moyes had said to him all day and failing to see what Emily is talking about, but the look on her face lets him know that wouldn’t be a good idea. The last thing he wanted to do was to diminish how she felt, or to tell her she was imagining things. 

“Sweetheart-”

She doesn’t give him a chance to say anything, carrying on as if he’d never started trying to speak, “And I know you don’t see it, but you’re a catch, and she’s your type, and-”

It’s his turn to cut over her as he frowns, “My type?” He says, tilting his head at her curiously, “What do you mean?”

She laughs, and it sounds far too close to hysterical for her liking as she stands back from him, crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head. “What do you think I mean? She looks exactly like Haley,” she feels guilty as soon as she says it, and she looks down at the floor, just about muttering the rest. “And Kate Joyner. I…” she clears her throat and shrugs sadly, kicking her feet against the threadbare carpet, “I look nothing like any of them.” 

She’d always known she was beautiful. It was something she was told by friends of her mother’s the moment she hit puberty, men old enough to be her father asking her to dance and smiling at her in a way she didn’t quite understand at the time, but made her shudder when she looked back on it. Her insecurity wasn’t in the fact that she didn’t think Aaron didn’t find her attractive, she knew that he did, he told her that he did, but there was part of her that worried it would be short-lived. That another short, blonde, pretty thing would come along and remind him of what he truly wanted. 

She swallows thickly, suddenly feeling exposed standing in front of him in nothing more than a t-shirt that once belonged to him, even though he’d seen her naked countless times. Even though he’d been the first, and she hoped the only, person to see the scars Ian had left behind, reminders of all that she’d survived scattered across her skin. This was a different kind of vulnerability, one she still wasn’t used to, and it has her tugging at the hem of the t-shirt in an attempt to cover more of herself. 

Then he’s there right in front of her, his feet coming into view before he hooks his finger under her chin and makes her look up at him, “Sweetheart, you’re my type.”

She laughs, and it catches on something wet in her chest as she closes her eyes, “Honey-”

“I mean it,” he says, cupping her cheek to hold her in place as she tries to look away. “You are my type, Emily Prentiss, and you have been for a long time. If she was flirting with me-”

“She was.” 

He smiles as she grumbles, and he strokes his thumb back and forth over that patch of freckles on her cheek again. “I didn’t notice. Because the only person I ever see is you. It’s borderline distracting at times.” 

“I probably shouldn’t be admitting this to my boss,” she laughs, for real this time, and she shakes her head, “You distract me too,” she says, wrapping herself up around him again, sighing contentedly. “I’m sorry.” 

He kisses her forehead, “You have nothing to apologise for. If I apologised every time I got jealous when someone flirted with you, I’d never do anything else.” 

She furrows her brow, something he feels against his lips more than he sees, and she pulls back just enough to look at him. “What?” 

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Come on, sweetheart. People flirt with you all the time. You’re gorgeous, and you’d have chemistry with the coffee maker if it could talk.” 

She laughs before she presses her hand against her mouth to capture it, the joy almost too sharp. “Well,” she says, clearing her throat as she calms down, pushing his hair away from his forehead, smiling as it flops back down, “It’s a good thing the only person I ever see is you.” 

[nickandcharlieareticklish]

A More Enjoyable Assignment (tickle fic)

Fandom: Heartstopper

Summary: Nick loves to tickle Charlie, but he never lets Charlie tickle him back. Charlie would never admit it to anyone, but all he wanted to do was hear his boyfriend squirm and giggle and it was starting to drive him up the wall.

Forget homework - this Nick-related assignment was way more fun.

My first ever tickle fic! Quite nervous about posting this, so all (kind) feedback very much appreciated.

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

Nick loved to tickle Charlie. This was common knowledge at this point. Charlie could barely make it through an hour in Nick's company before he was pounced on and his high-pitched babbling and squeals filled the air. Charlie would put up a dramatic fuss every time but honestly, he really didn't mind. And he could see from Nick's shit-eating grin just how much joy it brought him.

However, the main issue was that whenever Charlie reached out a retaliating hand to tickle Nick's side, or grabbed his knee to squeeze it, Nick would immediately employ Strong Rugby Arms and intercept his movements, never giving him the chance to properly get his revenge. He'd never admit it to anyone, but all Charlie wanted to do was hear his boyfriend squirm and giggle and it was starting to drive him up the wall.

One Sunday afternoon, they were studying on Nick's bedroom floor, music playing softly in the background. They lay on their stomachs alongside each other, hips and shoulders touching. Charlie had sunk so deep into quadratic equations that he was barely aware of his surroundings, until he felt the familiar sensation of fingers digging expertly, but gently, into his armpit. It took a few seconds for his brain to catch up and then he gasped and squirmed away.

“Nick!” he all but squawked. “You're such a menace.”

When he turned to look at him, Nick was scribbling on his own Geography paper, his face schooled into an unconvincing expression of concentration. Charlie scoffed.

“You're fooling literally no one at this point,” he said, rolling his eyes affectionately and tapping Nick gently on the forehead with his pen.

A smile spread slowly across Nick's face, and he suddenly grabbed for Charlie's hips with both hands and squeezed. This was one of his worst spots – which Nick knew, the arsehole – and Charlie immediately crumbled, attempting to curl into the foetal position on the floor while high-pitched squeals poured out of him.

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” he cried, trying to wriggle away. Nick just chuckled and ignored him, spidering his fingers up his sides. “Ah fu – fuck, Nick, that tickles so m-much – please...” His arms were flailing wildly, trying to grab Nick's hands and slow his movements.

Nick grinned but paused for a second, clearly winding down so as not to completely overwhelm him, and Charlie saw his chance. He lunged for Nick's thigh but before he could get any leverage, Nick casually plonked his entire body across Charlie's on the floor, leaving him unable to move.

“Nah, I don't think so,” Nick said calmly.

“Oh, for god sake.”

They lay there for a few moments, Charlie catching his breath after the attack. Nick's pinning was clever in stopping him being able to move much, whilst carefully avoiding actually hurting him. Eventually, Nick lifted his weight off Charlie and they rolled onto their sides to face each other.

“You good?” Nick asked, giving him his trademark lopsided smile.

“Yeah,” Charlie said, returning the grin with ease. They just drank each other in for a few seconds. “But you always -” He started, but then faltered, embarrassed.

“Hmm?” Nick was suddenly frowning slightly, always able to read him like a bloody book. He reached for Charlie's hand, linking their fingers together.

“You don't -” Charlie blew out a breath, frustrated at his inability to form words. “You never let me tickle you back.”

“Oh!” Nick's face softened with understanding, and then he grinned. “I know.”

“But why?”

“It's just funny,” Nick shrugged. “And because you're cute when you're annoyed. And in general.”

Charlie would never get used to Nick's unabashed compliments. He felt his face heat up as a rush of warmth spread through his body. “Shut up.”

“And when you're flustered.” The lopsided smile of pure sunshine was back.

“Nick, stop it! It's not fair when I don't get to fluster you back.” Nick's grin just grew wider. “Are you even ticklish?” Charlie asked, his eyes roaming around the parts of Nick's body that he knew were his own worst spots. He leaned in to poke his stomach but as usual Nick was too quick for him, grabbing his wrist.

“Ah now, that would be telling,” Nick replied in a gentle tone.

Charlie groaned, and Nick laughed brightly. “Do you giggle? I bet you're a giggler.”

“Absolutely not.”

A thought occurred to Charlie, and he had a sudden flash of anxiety. “If you really hate being tickled then it's fine, I won't tickle you. I just thought -”

“Charlie,” Nick interrupted softly, running his thumb over Charlie's knuckles. “It's okay. I don't hate it. I just happen to be very very good at stopping you.”

“Well, I think it's mean of you to use Muscle 1 and Muscle 2 against me,” Charlie said sternly, poking each of them in turn with a finger.

Nick snorted. “Ah, but we both know that you like the arms.”

“Not in this context! Anyway, forget homework because this is my new assignment.”

Nick said nothing, just looked at him affectionately for a moment and then leaned across to kiss him. Charlie sank into it, but pulled back after a few moments to appraise him. “You scared?”

Nick pretended to mull it over. “Hmm... nope. But you should be.”

Charlie rolled his eyes, but then burst into surprised laughter a moment later as Nick dived for his knees.

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

Charlie took this assignment very seriously – it was in his geeky nature, after all – and work began the very next day. He figured that the best tactic was to catch Nick off guard when he might not be able to react quickly enough to stop him. It was hardly the most well-thought-out plan but he didn't really have many other options.

His first attempt was first thing on Monday morning, in form room. Mr Lange was about to take the register and Nick was hastily completing his Geography homework that was (of course) due first thing.

“If only you'd finished this yesterday like a good student, instead of distracting us both with those magic fingers of yours,” Charlie whispered.

Nick just turned to him, raising an eyebrow at his inadvertent choice of words.

“Tickling fingers, I mean,” Charlie added, hastily and unnecessarily.

“I know,” Nick replied, entirely too innocently. “What else would you mean?”

Charlie gave him a look, but couldn't stop the grin that took over his face a moment later. Nick was winding him up, and it was on. When Nick turned back to his work, Charlie bit his lip in concentration, looking him up and down. The problem was that he didn't know where Nick's weak spots were, but the idea of finding out was more exciting than he'd care to admit.

Knees were normally a weak spot, right? And they were hidden under the desk where no one else could see what was going on. Probably a good place to start.

Charlie shuffled a bit closer to Nick on his chair – not unusual, so Nick didn't bat an eyelid, just continued writing. He reached out his left hand as surreptitiously as he could, shifting it under the desk towards Nick's right leg. Before he could overthink it and chicken out, Charlie reached for the fleshy part just above Nick's knee and squeezed.

He heard Nick's sharp intake of breath and felt his hand instantly shoot out and close around Charlie's hand.

“Excuse me!” Nick muttered, chuckling in surprise. “What do you think you're doing?”

“My new homework assignment,” Charlie answered, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Finding Nick's giggle.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Well, I'm pretty certain there was no giggle there, so good luck with that.”

“Well, that was just phase one. Plenty more to come.”

Nick just smirked. “Has anyone ever told you that you're weird?”

Charlie ignored him. “So, knees, seemingly ticklish – noted.”

Nick's expression changed then, to something that Charlie didn't like the look of. “Do you know who else has ticklish knees? My very weird boyfriend.” Before Charlie could blink, Nick's hand shot out to his knee and squeezed back, getting more leverage than Charlie had managed. The sudden and intense ticklish sensation shooting up Charlie's thigh produced a startled giggle in the mostly silent classroom that he couldn't stifle in time. He clapped a hand over his mouth, blushing.

“Charlie, Nick! Quiet down, please,” called Mr Lange.

When they caught each other's eye a second later, they both leant over their desks in silent laughter.

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

The next day, they were studying in a quiet corner of the library during a free period, with their backs against the shelves and textbooks spread around them. Charlie had already finished his work but he was always happy to keep Nick company.

And if the opportunity arose, perhaps continue with his separate Nick-related assignment.

Twenty minutes in, Nick was on the final page of his history essay, with Charlie mostly watching him work, and chipping in with helpful information when he could. He started absent-mindedly trailing his finger along Nick's forearm, stroking back and forth. After a few minutes, Nick paused.

“You're being quite distracting, you know,” he smiled.

Charlie immediately withdrew, sheepishly. “Oh um, sorry.”

“No no, it's okay, it's, um – it's a nice type of distraction,” Nick said, flushing slightly. “You don't need to stop.”

Charlie looked at his feet, smiling shyly, and continued the soothing motions on Nick's arm. He felt Nick's relaxed exhale a moment later.

After a couple more minutes, Charlie was getting a little restless, and a slightly dangerous thought entered his mind. He looked down at Nick's side, perfectly exposed as his arms were raised to write in his book which was balanced on his bent knees.

He couldn't, could he?

Charlie took a look around – there was no one within sight, but the library wasn't empty. It was as quiet as you'd expect from such an environment. He slowly shifted his hand that was caressing Nick's arm, and casually moved it down to trail his fingers lightly over Nick's side instead. Nick immediately jerked away in surprise, but still no giggle – dammit.

Nick turned to look at him. “Don't you dare,” he said warningly, but Charlie could easily spot the amused glint in his eye.

“Don't what?” Charlie asked innocently. “Finish your homework.”

And surprisingly, Nick did. Bless his trusting soul. However, it was as he was writing the very last paragraph that Charlie just couldn't resist a second attempt. This time, he was determined to produce some sort of audible reaction from him. He knew he'd have to be quick because Nick would surely be expecting it at this point, and the rugby player had lightning-quick reactions. So Charlie waited until Nick was deep in concentration, scribbling away, before he reached for his side again and dug his fingers into the flesh more firmly. Nick didn't manage to move away quite as quickly this time and Charlie got a few good squeezes in - Nick's gasp and slight yelp were music to his ears.

“Oh I'm sorry, what was that?” Charlie asked, far too pleased with himself.

“You're ridiculous,” Nick retorted, but he was grinning widely. He'd only shifted to the left slightly, hadn't blocked Charlie's hand as he usually would, so Charlie decided to try his luck and moved up a little higher, feathering fingers over his ribs through his shirt. Nick's nose scrunched up adorably and a second later he was actually laughing – admittedly quietly, and it wasn't quite the uncontrollable giggle he was aiming for, but Charlie's heart still clenched at the adorableness of it as he watched Nick's eyes clench shut and felt him squirm against the sensations. He also noted that Nick could easily get away if he really wanted to, but he hadn't moved. Definitely not torture, then.

A few moments later, just as Charlie became bolder and travelled towards his armpit, Nick's hand finally came down to block him. “Ch – Charlie,” he managed around a soft gasp. “Stop.”

“Sorry, I didn't quite catch that?”

Nick rolled his eyes, breathing slightly heavily. “God, that was intense – I had to stop you before I really started cackling. We're in a library, you maniac.”

Charlie pouted dramatically. “But I wanted to hear you giggle.”

“Tough,” Nick replied, smiling. “Also, why do you keep doing this in places where we need to be quiet?”

“It's more fun that way.”

“I'm not sure if I like this new, rebellious Charlie.” The lingering kiss Nick gave him a second later was a pretty strong argument to the contrary.

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

After his recent success, Charlie abandoned his mission for a few days. The plan was to lull Nick into a false sense of security, but based on the way he put up almost no resistance in the library, Charlie probably didn't have much to worry about. The memory gave him a little thrill whenever he thought about it. However, he still hadn't fully scratched that itch and he was nothing if not determined.

On Friday night, Nick was round at Charlie's house and they were sitting on the edge of his bed, mostly making out and occasionally playing Mario Kart. Charlie won every time, of course. After his third loss, Nick was so worked up that he thwacked Charlie in the face with a pillow and Charlie couldn't stop cackling.

“I'm really never gonna let you win, you know,” Charlie said firmly, after he'd calmed down.

Nick sighed. “Yeah, I know.” He flopped backwards onto the bed dramatically. “Maybe we need to find a game I'm good at.”

“Sorry, not sorry.” He looked at Nick out of the corner of his eye. “I feel like you need some stress relief.”

Nick raised his head from his lying position. “Are you going to give me a massage?” he asked, all hopeful puppy dog eyes.

Charlie giggled, shaking his head. “Maybe later. I've got a better idea.” He deftly climbed onto the bed and sat himself on Nick's calves, facing him. “A cliche once told me that laughter is the best medicine, so I think we should test that theory.”

Nick just frowned as he watched him. “Charlie...”

“Are you seeing where I'm going with this?” Charlie asked, smirking at Nick's adorably confused expression.

“I'm not sure, but it definitely doesn't seem like I'm about to get a massage.”

A thought struck Charlie. “Okay, fine, I'll give you a massage. How about a... foot massage?”

Nick's eyes widened. “Um, no, I'm – I'm good actually.”

Bingo. “Oh really? Why's that, then?”

“Um...” Nick sat up slightly and tried to move his legs, but they barely budged with Charlie's full body weight on top of them. His fate seemed to fully dawn on him then and he flopped backwards, hands covering his face and a nervous laugh bubbling out of him. “Shit.”

“So first thing's first – socks. You won't be needing those.” Charlie reached behind him and, with some skill considering he couldn't see what he was doing, slowly peeled off Nick's socks one at a time. Even just these simple movements caused Nick's feet to twitch slightly, and Charlie bit back a smile. He'd surely hit the jackpot here.

“Would you mind telling me what you're doing?” Nick asked, clearly attempting to give him the stink eye through the gaps in the hands covering his face.

Charlie thought about it. “Homework,” he said simply, before reaching back to run a single finger gently along the arch of Nick's bare foot. The reaction was immediate and delicious – the scrunching of the toes, the panicked gasp of “Charlie!”. Charlie chuckled and brought his hand back in front of him.

“This is so unfair,” Nick whined, trying again to shift his feet but with absolutely no success.

“Consider it payback for the many times you've reduced me to a squealing mess.” He leaned closer, to whisper in Nick's ear. “You're about to get wrecked, Nelson.”

“I – no – come on, please -”

“Begging already, are we?”

“Will it make you stop?”

“Definitely not. We have to find that giggle.” He paused, struck with a sudden thought. “Oh and by the way, your safeword is bubblegum.”

“I – okay – but Charlie -” Nick screwed his eyes shut. The anticipatory giggles were already starting to sneak their way out of him, and Charlie's heart melted at the sound. He leaned forward again to press a kiss to the tip of Nick's nose.

“You're so fucking cute – I haven't even started yet,” Charlie smiled.

“Yeah, but -” Nick ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “My feet are so ticklish, I might actually die.”

“Well, the ticklish truth is finally coming out. Also, you definitely won't die. Now stop distracting me.” He reached behind him again with his right hand, hovering close to Nick's foot for a few moments for dramatic effect. Nick groaned loudly as the seconds passed.

“Such a tease...” he muttered.

When Charlie could hold back no longer, he went straight for Nick's arch with purpose, scribbling his fingers vigorously over the soft skin. To his delight, Nick fell to pieces instantly, emitting a high-pitched squeal that Charlie had definitely never heard him make before. It was immediately followed by chuckles which quickly turned into desperate, breathy giggles as Charlie moved up to scratch at the back of his toes.

“No no no no no, Charlie ple - hease -” Nick spat out through giggles, his face scrunched up in a beautiful combination of euphoria and torture. His hands gripped the pillow behind his head. Charlie didn't let up, focusing in on the base of his big toe that was evidently incredibly ticklish based on the strangled cry he let out, and in a moment of pure evil, Charlie reached behind him with his other hand and attacked both big toes at once, producing a new bout of uncontrollable laughter. He didn't turn around as he didn't want to miss a second of Nick's helpless reactions.

“Yep, this is how I d-die,” Nick managed to get out, writhing from side to side in ticklish desperation.

“How does it feel, Nick? Do you promise never to tickle me again?” Charlie knew he didn't actually want this, but he also knew Nick would never agree to it either.

“I can never p-promise that – oh god, stohohop -” Charlie had moved back down to the arches of his feet in just the right spot, and Nick's hips bucked as the giggles poured out in a constant stream. Charlie wished he could bottle the sound. He focused on the killer spots of Nick's feet for a solid few minutes, often giggling along with him as he worked his magic, but listening carefully for any utterances of the safe word. It was only when Nick's laughter turned completely silent that he let up. He pulled his hands back to his front but stayed perched on Nick's legs, watching him recover fondly.

“I hate you,” Nick said weakly, a few moments later. “I also love you, but I hate you. Just so you know.”

Charlie just grinned and leaned forward to lie gently on top of him, resting his chin on Nick's chest. “I love you too,” he said, suddenly feeling bashful and overwhelmed with affection. “I can't really deal with how cute you are.”

Nick just rolled his eyes and smiled at him. “Do you know who else is cute? My very ticklish boyfriend.” And Charlie should have predicted what would happen next as Nick's hands reached greedily for his sides.

He wasn't really complaining.

[holleringfromyourrooftops]

Another thing I want to rant about is the House-Thirteen dynamic that I'm starting to love

SPOILERS BELOW

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My GOD I loved the episode "The Dig" (s7 ep18) because it features like two of my most favorite characters: House and Thirteen.

I've always been interested in their duo ever since Thirteen left the team and House was trying to win her back in his own House-like way and it was like a game between them. I loved their fights and my god did I love their fights in this episode in particular.

It started off fun with us also being in the dark about WHY Thirteen was in prison but there was always this sense of tension that something deeper was going on, and all the comedy, and diagnoses was just a distraction to drop a bombshell and my god did it DROP.

Of all the things I expected from Thirteen's mouth, I never expected her to say that she killed a man. And obviously, like House, I jumped to the most normal theories and deluded myself into thinking this might be a lie or the guy did OD, but even then I knew something was wrong. Mostly because Thirteen is an exceptional doctor and I doubt she would let anyone die on her watch without being more fucked up over it.

And my doubts were proven right during the scene where Thirteen was crying in the night and House didn't react and just listened. And that speaks a lot: he didn't pretend he was sleeping, he didn't do anything and simply listened and slowly worked out all the information in his head, further proven when House mentions this ("You don't cry at night...") to Thirteen while he was explaining how the man she killed must've been close to her. House is rarely emotional; he's logical and thinks of everything as puzzles and yet we can also see that he was starting to care deeply for Thirteen, even smiling fondly at her in one the previous scenes. Their relationship dynamic was getting more depth and truly it reached its peak when Thirteen finally revealed why she killed her brother.

House didn't react AGAIN; no witty quips, no revulsion, no anything. He just stood there and listened as Thirteen cried, didn't even offer her a hug---because that's who House is, he's logical, he knows that a hug doesn't fix anything so he didn't offer one despite Thirteen needing one.

The loneliness that Thirteen spoke of, her fear of being alone during her final moments, is something House can truly resonate with. He JUST lost the one person whom he thought was going to stick by him, who he thought would love his twisted, diabolical self and who MADE him a better--more happier--person, made him care more about something other than puzzles---and all of that had come crashing down in the form of Cuddy almost dying. I feel like this was truly the first time House was ever scared shitless, ever scared of losing someone so much that it caused his leg pain to spike up and revert back to Vicodin just to show up and be there for her. He truly went through HELL in just a day, stripped to his rawest form, and then left bleeding in his doorway by the one woman he has ever loved and cared for deeply. Of course House understood Thirteen, he was the embodiment of her fear; alone, with no one--except a half-empty bottle of pills--next to you to numb you, even momentarily, from the pain.

So of course House didn't say anything, because he was in that exact situation and simply, refused to tell the cruel truth that he's so used to telling other people. He didn't even comfort her because he was in shock about what she had revealed and what this had made him realise about himself. All he could do was turn around and go back to the competition. Perhaps it was his way of punishing Thirteen for hurting him and drive in the fact that yes, she was going to be alone and die alone, or perhaps he was running away. Regardless, his inability to take action at that moment and Thirteen's hurt at him for not doing anything was probably what Cuddy felt when he showed up stoned and was there for her.

However at the end, we can see how the parallels between what happened with Cuddy and what happend with Thirteen end where House offers that he could euthanize Thirteen if she wanted him too, thus proving Cuddy wrong about how he hasn't changed, how he couldn't change who he was, when in fact that scene alone proved how House had changed from his past mistakes. He offered to euthanize this person whom he cares deeply about, just because he didn't want her to feel lonely--to feel like he did and still do--doesn't matter that House suffers breakdowns even when he loses even one patient (the woman who got caught under the rubble, I dont remember the exact episode) whom he slightly interacted with (sure maybe you could chalk that upto him and Cuddy fighting), he was still willing to step up and be there for Thirteen, and he said this with the most sincere tone he could muster up. He comforted Thirteen with simply his words, something that House had previously stated he was incapable of, and showed emotional maturity in his relationship with Thirteen.

So yes, House did change and perhaps it was Cuddy breaking up with him that made him change the most---to allow himself to be a part of other people's lives, to empathize and care for them and even TRY to be there for them emotionally even though he had earlier told Wilson that he sucked at comforting people. Or perhaps, House has always been that kind of person and it took him years to finally let that side out.

[cheshitora]

you get it so bad. kazu is just perfect angst material. like he's my man but i can't help but make him a little miserable in my fantasies idk it adds spice to the scenario 😣

how do you think he'd confess to bff!reader (or would he at all?) because knowing kazutora it could go a million different ways. rn i'm stuck between thinking he'd just crash out and confess mid conversation, sabotage your date somehow someway, or confess mid intimate cuddle with reader session all teary eyed 🙂‍↔️

→ SO LONG AND GOODNIGHT

WARNING : ANGST, BRIEF MENTION OF BLOOD, IMPLIED FEM!READER

FINAL CALL : anon you get is so so bad. what's angst if you dont make your man suffer a little? or a lot

kazutora has never been the best when it came to being in a relationship. or at least, he always had the worst luck when it came to being in a happy, loving relationship.

he knew part of the reason why his relationships never lasted more than a couple of months was because of his inability to express love the way he wanted to. which plays into his second reason why he's never been in a fully, committed relationship: he's in love with you, his best friend.

it wasn't the most conventional friendship as it was often seen as "too intimate" and more of a "situationship" since you and kazutora didn't do traditional best friend stuff.

from intertwined fingers to playful kisses on the cheek, late night calls until 3am to deep and meaningful gifts that were way too specific, it was blatantly obvious to even the most obscure stranger that there was more to the story than just you and kazutora merely being "best friends".

and they would be right.

kazutora harbored the strongest feelings for you than he had ever felt for anyone else. you plagued his thoughts, your smile tattooed in his mind, unable to break free of the shackles that was you. he longed to keep you in his arms forever, no longer wanting to be seen as just your friend.

you experienced, first hand, the type of person kazutora had been and what he's growing up to be. he can be impulsive and get into fights recklessly, maybe even take things a little further than need be. he's troubled but longs to be loved and cared for, yearns to be appreciated for who he is.

and you're the only one that sees him as who he is.

but did you reciprocate his feelings?

that question haunted him. the fear of confessing to you and your turning him down scared him more than he was afraid of his father. you were everything to him. other than his best friend, you were all he had, all he needed. and if he ruined your beautiful friendship, like the screw-up he thought he was, he'd never forgive himself.

until the worst scenario came true ─ kazutora heard you were going on a date. with some guy from your school. but why?

of course he knew why. you were single and clearly eager to start dating. a part of him wished he was going crazy, that he had made up the whole thing in his head or you would tell him you were joking. but those words never came out and no matter how hard he pinched himself, to the point of tearing his skin and bleeding, he wasn't waking up from a dream. this was real and his heart was shattered.

the only way he could stop you from being swept off your feet by some loser from your school was to confront you before your date, and that's exactly what he did.

before he knew it, kazutora was racing to your house, praying you were still getting ready since you always took forever doing your hair and makeup. even if you were just going to his place to cuddle, you still had to do your hair and you still had to wear some kind of makeup. sometimes, it irritated him with how long you took but he loved it too. he loved watching you fix your hair. he loved tracing the soft features of your face as you applied power and gloss to your lips. everything about you drove him crazy and he was in a hurry to claim you before anyone else could.

luckily, as he predicted, you were barely getting dressed for your date. your mother happily let him into your home and he wasted no time charging up to your room.

now, he could've been too eager and just barged into your room but if you were barely changing, then he knew he should knock fiest, which he did, waiting for you to open your door.

the soft light of your room leaked into the hallway when you opened your door, your eyes widening at the sight of your best friend sweaty and heaving.

"tora? what are you doing here?"

he gulped, now unsure of where to start. he was here, staring at the girl who'd unknowingly stolen his heart, but now he was struggling to confess or even state why he was there.

"tora?" you asked with a tilt of your head. "did you need something? i, uh, i'm kinda busy."

"i know and uh, i... i need to talk to you," he stammered.

"oh, uh, okay. c'mon in." you stepped aside and let him into your room, a space he had become all too familiar with. from your plush pillows to the line of stuffies adorning the frame of your bed, your stereo and several band posters on your walls and even the small trinkets littering your desk.

"so, what'd you wanna talk about?"

kazutora sat at the edge of your bed, staring down at the ground as he fiddled with his fingers. his heart hammered in his chest as he founs it nearly impossible to confess the one thing had been dying to tell you after all this time.

here he was. with the perfect opportunity to share his feelings with you and find out if you loved him the way he loved you.

"i heard you were going on a date."

no turning back now.

"oh, you heard about that."

"yeah, i did."

kazutora lifted his head, a soft smile stretching across his lips.

"i hope you have fun," he murmured.

your eyes widened again at his words, almost half expecting him to switch up and tell you to stay home and cuddle with him instead, since he's done it before.

you let out a breathy chuckle, reaching out to ruffle his shaggy hair.

"you came all the way just to tell me that. you could've called, dummy."

his cheeks burned as you ruffled his hair, giving you a slight nod.

"i know, but i thought it would've been better in person. besides, i need to see who this guy is."

"don't tell me you're gonna try and intimidate him?"

kazutora placed his hand over his heart dramatically, pretending to be offended with an exaggerated gasp.

"intimidate him? no, i would never," he said sarcastically.

you rolled your eyes playfully, shuffling back to your mirror to apply the last bits of your makeup. kazutora couldn't take his eyes off you, his gaze shifting down to take in your cute outfit, his chest aching with the realization that you were never gonna dress cute like that for him again.

suddenly, you heard a knock on your door, your mother stepping in to inform you that your date was here before stepping back out.

you turned to kazutora and gave him a twirl.

"how do i look?"

like my girlfriend. that's what he wanted to say.

"you look amazing," is what he actually said.

you offered him a kind smile, stepping towards him and reaching out to cup his cheeks in your palms, causing his heart to stop. but his heart broke again when all you gave him was a soft kiss to the forehead, your red lipstick leaving a mark on his skin.

"i'll see you later," you giggled upon seeing the mark on his face, turning away to exit your room, giving kazutora a wave "goodbye", leaving him alone in your room as your stereo continued to play music, music that you two listened to together.

his shoulders sagged, tears pooling in his eyes and blurring his vision. he stared back down at the ground, chastising himself for being a coward, for not telling you that he loved you and wanted you to be his.

the worst thing he could tell you was to be happy with someone that wasn't him. and the worst thing he could do was not chase after you and drag you back to your room and kiss you senseless. but he was a coward.

he tried to tell himself that you'd be happier this way than with a screw up like him, but even he couldn't get himself to believe that, not when his chest hurt with heartbreak.

all he could do now was listen to the music playing on your stereo, reminding him of the love he let go due to his own fear of losing you.

but now, he's really lost you and there was nothing he could bring himself to do. and that's the worst thing he could do.

[dekusleftsock]

Dekus no good, very bad, faceplant into masculinity and internalized homophobia

I made this a thought post from chapter 402 originally, but I can’t let these thoughts fester any longer. Gotta be correct about it 🫶🫶🫶

Alright so when I originally talked about this on a couple of platforms (not just tumblr, tiktok too and a bit on Twitter that has no connection to this account lmao) I feel like people told me that I was “stretching” with my assumptions.

But then Toga’s backstory being told to Ochako was… directly referenced to a queer allegory. And in 394, she directly says that she likes girls. It’s the thing said last, implying it’s something she’s still ashamed of feeling.

This chapter basically confirmed in my mind that Himiko’s blood quirk was the equivalent to the homophobia that was probably in her own household. And in my mind, that means that blood quirk = metaphor on her queer experience.

And then suddenly, the pieces clicked into place.

In 348, Izuku disagrees with Himiko and Ochako’s ideals—not only at the idea of girly romance, but also at unconventional romance.

Ochako has distanced herself due to Izuku’s inability to confront his own feelings. Shown both physically and metaphorically.

Ochako took all the steps to walk away because from Izuku. Because Izuku held her back.

Or more rather, she realized that Izuku was no allmight, but rather just an average boy in need of saving as anyone else. He is someone who’s flaws cannot align with Ochako’s own ideals for a relationship.

Because ochako is weird.

Izuku holds her back. She can’t be everything she needs to be while around him.

And that’s something Izuku’s not going to understand, not like how she needs him to understand.

And Himiko knows who Ochako is on a more fundamental level than Izuku ever will, and that’s okay.

I feel like whenever I talk about these character flaws having to do with Izuku, it almost sounds like I’m bashing him? I swear, I’m not, it makes complete sense as to why he is this way. And there are people (Katsuki) in the world who can have this in a relationship under the right communication, and some people can’t. And that’s just how we exist. That’s okay. We don’t all have to be compatible with everyone.

Back to the main point, the pieces and the people putting those pieces together were starting to see their parallels.

Even the manga placement parallels them, especially with how clever I feel horikoshi can be with his paneling.

Looking down, looking up. Both three quarter angles. Small mouth expression, big mouth expression. And that blush.

Fake smile when unhappy. Falling for someone who is dying, who you’d do anything for, even toe the line of death defending them, fixing them—just because you can’t help but love someone you wish had walked into your life sooner (or in Izuku’s case, accepted into your life sooner).

Someone you’d sacrifice for. Someone you’re violent for. Someone you’d kill for.

Someone you’d rather let an entire population of people die for than live without.

Someone you’re undeniably, unequivocally, selfish for.

And yet Izuku doesn’t recognize his same symptoms of love through Himiko Toga as Ochako does.

Himiko must be dehumanized to Izuku, because if she’s a person, then she is him.

(What’s even more interesting about this panel, is that if the characters were reversed and it was about Izuku’s violent feelings over protecting Katsuki, danger sense would be going off constantly. So toga is the perfect counter, but Izuku is the ultimate weakness.)

So, okay, how exactly do these things matter? How does this have to do with Izuku’s own personal struggle over his masculinity?

I think what’s important to clarify here is that when I say “internalized homophobia”, I don’t mean that he necessarily is beating himself up over the fact that he likes a boy instead of a girl.

I think it’s connected to his fear of rejection, and his own personal issues having to do with remaining a “strong man” instead of a “weak man”.

Izuku may not believe that liking men is anyone’s business but his own, but does Katsuki think that?

Izuku has called his feelings of admiration gross. Not that he himself is an awful person for feeling them, but that Katsuki will be the one to think they’re gross. And he’s worked so hard to get to this point in their relationship, he doesn’t wanna let it go over some stupid feelings.

And this is where toga comes into the picture, his parallels between her, because just how is Toga supposed to know that Ochako isn’t judging her for her feelings? Technically, all of the things she’s said before the final fight between them have only proved the inevitable. That Toga is gross, a freak, a predator, a danger, because she loves a woman.

How is Izuku supposed to interpret being called a stalker by Katsuki? How is he supposed to interpret when people call him creepy for his muttering and analyzation? How is he supposed to interpret being called a crybaby by his idol, Katsuki, and everyone else when he cannot control that?

How can he handle feelings that are out of his control, and still believe that they’re okay?

And at the very least, even if homophobia doesn’t exist in mha, heteronormativity does. Especially shown through Ashido, a straight girl.

None of that is necessarily Allmight, Katsuki, or even Ochako’s fault, because of course they’re just teasing him—but it doesn’t change the fact that it affects how he perceives himself.

So when I say that Izuku has problems with internalized homophobia, I mean that he is afraid of how the people around him will perceive him, than a constant feeling of self hatred due to not liking women.

And when I say that his internalized homophobia is an extension of his masculinity, I mean that because he has no confidence in himself and his more vulnerable emotions, he is unable to accept what or who he is. This ofc affects the people around him, like saying that Ochako CANT be weird because she’s just “so amazingly normal” without realizing that he’s just downplaying who she is and what she thinks, or dehumanizing the most openly queer character in the series because it benefits the perception he has of himself, or even silently rejecting Katsuki’s feelings simply out of a need to “control his heart and control his quirk”.

In Izuku’s mind, the only way to keep Katsuki is to not be the weird kid he was in his childhood. In a way, Izuku is still performing for Katsuki.

[bamboozledbird]

IGNITE: A Teen Wolf S1 AU (Reader's Version) // Prev. / Chapter 3 / Next

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, fem!reader, omc, ofc Pairing: Eventual Stiles x Reader, but man are we talking slow burn Word Count: 6.2k Warnings: Canon typical gore/violence, parental death (rip to your fake mom), depictions of depression (apathy, dissociation, 'numb little bug' vibes) Tags: Canon has been lovingly scrapped for parts, author is a chaotic bi and it shows, prolific overuse of the em dash, the slowest of burns i fear

Summary: You can always smell ash long after the fire is gone. Perhaps, that’s why you still can’t breathe without choking on the past. It’s been four years since your mom died. Four years since she burned alive. Four years since you didn’t. You survived, but they must have buried your heart with her because most days you feel like a shadow, some horrifically sad creature caught halfway between a ghost and a lamb for slaughter. 

You can’t scrub the bitter smell of hospital from your memories, not even with denial. Maybe, that’s why death and disease follows Stiles wherever he goes now. It’s been eight years since his mom died. Eight years since he didn’t. Eight years since he decided that he wouldn’t let anyone he loved die ever again. He survived, but Scott’s new-found abilities and the murky world they’ve been dragged into is making it pretty damn hard to keep his promise. 

Time never stops turning. The grief never dissipates. Children soldier on—but in a town where all the monsters under the bed are real and old family skeletons rattle in every closet, how long can two fragile, breakable humans survive? 

Maybe, the real question is: How long will they want to? Chapter Summary: More information about the animal attack comes to light. You can’t decide if you're more scared of the monster or becoming friends with someone new. 

A/N: You can also check me out on ao3 (dork_knight) for the full lore version!

You were surprised to see your dad’s car in the garage. He wasn’t supposed to be off work for hours, and he certainly never came home early on weekdays. You would be more nervous if there was anyone left in your life to grieve. It was just the two of you now. Your mom hadn’t ever talked about her family; you weren't even sure if she ever had one, and Grandma and Papa Dickinson died before you even had the chance to remember them. You wished, sometimes, that there was someone else in the house. Someone who could fill the cold silence and closed doors. Someone who might chase away the ghosts lingering in the long halls and photographs on the walls. It was a futile dream. You were going to die in this house, and someday a new family would chase your family’s shadows away with laughter.

You felt a bittersweet sense of déjà vu when you walked into the house and saw your dad sitting at the kitchen table. The kitchen was his spot before everything went wrong. He puttered around the island in the mornings with his thermos of coffee and tablet, somehow knowing exactly when to flip the bubbling pancakes on the griddle without glancing up from whatever NPR article he was reading. He only looked up from the screen to kiss your mom on the cheek and give you a side-squeeze until you whined about your inability to breathe. 

That was a long time ago, you reminded yourself as your dad looked up from his iPad. It’d been four years, but he still hadn’t quite figured out how to hug you and the kitchen never smelled like pancakes and cinnamon syrup anymore. “How was school?” your dad finally said after a long moment of uneasy eye-contact. 

Your brow wrinkled, and your head canted slightly, “You really want to talk about my day?”

“Of course,” your dad paused and rubbed his hands over his face, “but there is something important I wanted to talk to you about.” His stubble had grown out enough that you could see where the brown was starting to gray. He looked so old for a moment, and you weren't quite sure how to feel. You never did around him. 

Frowning, you sat down in the chair across from him, “Did someone die?”

“No,” your dad quickly replied, and then he sighed, “well, yes.” He set his iPad to the side and took his thick reading glasses off, “You know about the animal attacks.” It wasn’t a question. You figured that was how this would go; it was easier to pretend you didn’t exist if he monologued to the spot on the wall just over your shoulder. “Sheriff Stilinski and I agree that a curfew is the best course of action, considering the situation we’re in.”

Best course of action. You chewed on what was left of your nails and resisted the sigh budding in your chest. So, this was a council meeting too. You just didn’t get a vote. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Your dad blinked a few times and rubbed at his jaw, like he’d been expecting you to fight him on it. Most of the fight fizzled out in you a long time ago; it was just easier to pretend. You got that from him, you thought. You inherited your dad’s love for mystery novels and his ability to deny reality straight to its face, and that was where the similarity ended. Your face, your skin, your heart—your exhausting curiosity—that was all your mom. It must be why your dad couldn’t keep his gaze on you for long. He ran his fingers through his short crop of dark hair and said, “Anyone under the age of 18 needs to be home by 9:00 every night.” 

“Fine.” It wasn’t like you had much of a social life anyway, and the curio shop you worked for closed long before dark. “So,” you fiddled with the edge of a decorative bamboo placemat that hadn’t seen a plate in years, “do the police have any idea what kind of animal’s going all Pac-Man on people?”

Your dad stared at you for a moment, a deep divot developing above the crooked bridge of his nose. You looked down at your hands and mumbled, “The vampire Pomeranian, not the wimpyass circle.”

His mouth tugged a little, and you would’ve sworn he was fighting a smile if everything else in the world didn’t directly contradict the theory. “Not exactly.”

“Which means…” you shook your head a little and tugged your fingers through your unruly hair, grimacing a bit as they snagged on a few knots where your hair had frizzed together, “they’ve ruled out tiny bloodsucking dogs, or they’ve narrowed it down to a few probable options?” 

He paused for a long moment, and you pulled your shins to your chest, focusing on the tips of your sneakers hanging off the edge of the wooden seat. You turned your cheek into your kneecaps and waited for your dad to make an excuse and leave. You’d pushed. You always had to push. 

“There were wolf fibers on the girl.”

You whipped your head up from your knees, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. You were a little embarrassed that you were more stunned by your dad sharing confidential information with you than a wolf migrating to central California for the first time in over a hundred years. “And the bus driver?”

“He’s still…unresponsive. Stilinski is looking into the possibility that he was attacked by the same animal.” 

“Huh,” you said quietly, eyes glazing over as you considered the possibility.

“Regardless, you need to be home before dark until they catch the damn thing,” he leaned back against his chair, tipping his head back with his bottle of Miller High life. The golden liquid sloshed back and forth with the strength of his swallow. It was the first time you’d seen him drink since the funeral, but you knew about the empty bottles he threw away in the trash outside. Over the years, the number varied; you noticed a significant increase around anniversaries, birthdays, and Christmas. You left extra take-out in the fridge during those weeks, always his favorites, and they were gone in the morning. You twisted the pendant on your necklace and made a note to order Little India’s tandoori chicken after your shift.

“I have to work tonight.” You said quietly, nibbling the bed of your thumbnail, “I’m off at 8:00.” 

You both dreaded and longed for your boss’s absurd take on the situation—though boss wasn’t quite the right word for Maggie Sinclair. Despite the fact that she owned Curio Killed the Cat and approved your paychecks, Maggie was the least authoritative person you knew. You’d say Mags was like an older sister, but older sisters generally didn’t require so much supervision around open flames and sangria—and anything else sparkling enough to distract her sporadic focus. Your mom used to look out for her before she died; you supposed Maggie was just another thing you inherited from her. Your favorite thing probably, but that was something you’d most likely take to your grave.

Your dad’s face went blank for a moment, as it always did when he was reminded of anything remotely related to your mom. It was easier for him, you thought, to pretend that she never existed. You couldn’t even be bitter about it; you hadn’t even cried at the funeral. You cried much later, of course, but by then the pity well had run dry. Nobody cared how you coped, so long as you coped quickly. You’d wasted those precious first few months of constant consolations with numbness, with monotonous, 'Thank you,’s and, 'It’s sad, but I’m okay,'s and then, eventually, everyone stopped asking if you were okay. Time passed. You didn’t touch any of the casseroles in the fridge. People moved on. You lived in the wake and pushed people away with an acrid bite that would disappoint the resurrection right out of your mother. Your dad was just coping. You both were. 

“Right,” he cleared his throat, “come straight home after.”

You shouldered your backpack and stood up, “Always do.”

You still didn’t know how Maggie met your mom, given the 15-year age gap and their vastly different…everything, but Maggie had been in your life for as long as you could remember. You spent so much time in Maggie’s store after your mom died that you figured you might as well get paid for shelving spell books and grimoires while you were there—even if you did think that most of Maggie’s customers were totally off their rocker. Of course, in-person customers were a rare oddity in Curio Killed the Cat.

The store was always slow on weekdays, weekends too actually. Most of Maggie’s business was online; she shipped ‘haunted’ and ‘magical’ artifacts all across the globe to e-goths with bad backs and Wicca wannabes. Truthfully, Maggie didn’t really need your help running the storefront, but she claimed she enjoyed the company—even if said company was bitterly sarcastic and hypercritical of the product she was stocking. 

“Hey, Mags,” you called. The bell on the front door tinkled in the background as you shoved it open with your shoulder. You paused to scratch under Maggie’s ancient tabby’s chin until he let out a sawing purr. You weren't exactly sure how old Gizmo was, but he behaved more like the taxidermied animals on the walls than the stray cats that lived in the small alley behind the store. 

“Maggie’s head popped up from the circle of book-stack pillars surrounding her. A few of her black curls frizzed out from her bun like a chaotic springy bow and her sweater swallowed her whole despite the relatively warm evening. “Babe,” Maggie placed her hands on your shoulders and grinned at you with a little too much teeth, “thorn in my side, light of my life.”

You lifted the large pair of acrylic glasses from Maggie’s nest of curls and then slipped them over her rounded nose with a reluctant sigh, “What?”

“Glasses. That was next on the agenda.” Maggie blinked owlishly behind her lenses as her eyes adjusted, and then they lit up with whatever it was she’d miraculously remembered, “I am so delighted to see you.”

“It’s Monday.” Gizmo curled around your leg and meowed pathetically until you bent down and lifted him onto you shoulder, “I work Mondays.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, “I’m aware; I made the schedule. The Concerta isn’t completely defective.”

You grinned a little, and Gizmo kneaded your chest in agreement, “So: You’re delighted to see me.”

Nodding rapidly, Maggie picked up a lavishly bound book from one of the stacks of new inventory. It was so tall that it reached her chin, and there were four more just like it in the back. “I need these stocked for realsies,” Maggie said, blowing off the thin layer of dust that had started to gather on the cover. She dropped the book back on top of the pile with a loud thump and carefully avoided knocking anything over on her way to the front of the store, “And I’m currently in the middle of a bidding war.”

“Haunted or historical?” you grabbed the clunky price gun off of the tarot card display.

“A little of both actually,” Maggie hummed, fiercely focused on the computer screen. Her nose was almost smashed against the monitor.

You set Gizmo down on the floor, patting his head tenderly when he let out a disgruntled whine and clawed at your thin knee socks. Eventually, the effort became too much for his poor paws to bear, and he waddled off towards one of his many nesting spots. “For you or for the store?” you pulled the stepladder away from the wall of stone runes and protection charms and plopped yourself down on the top step.

“For you, actually,” Maggie grinned a little and winked, “don’t say I never gave ya’ nothing.”

“Wonderful,” you dropped your chin into your cupped hands, “a poltergeist bonus.”

Maggie huffed and shoved the sleeves of her hand-knitted cardigan up to her elbows, “It’s not actually haunted. Not really. It’s like…a spirit router, basically. Whatever. It’ll make me feel better about you walking around with a rabid Cujo on the loose.”

“Aw,” you smirked good-naturedly and slapped a price tag on a book entitled ‘Heal the Witch Wound Inside’—$35.99, and for what? You were too amused to point out the redundancy of rabid Cujo. “You got me a guardian angel.”

“Trying to,” Maggie corrected her under her breath, “but MagikMike9917 is a persistent little bitch.”

You laughed and slid ‘Witch Wound’ into the self-help section, “Just get me a mini-taser; they come in some real cute cases now.”

“Mhm.” Maggie briefly glanced over in your direction and then abruptly whirled her head back towards the thick book in your hands, “Not that one.”

You narrowed your gaze as you examined the cover of the book more closely. You had to admit, it was beautiful. The leather was a deep burgundy, and the spine was hand stitched together with gold thread—but it was the carving on the front that really caught your attention. There were two wolves etched into the leather. Their howling snouts pointed towards the full moon above their heads, and their tails entwined around the roots of a large tree sprouting into the sky. Ornate symbols framed the borders of the scene, and a few scattered jewels glinted in the light. It must have taken at least a week to finish. 

You held up the book, your brow curved into a high arch, “This for me too? ‘Cause I’ve already seen The Witcher; pretty sure I got the gist.”

Rolling her eyes, Maggie reached blindly for her soup mug of passionflower and mugwort tea. The smell of it was truly rank, but you had grown accustomed to the musky bitterness over the years. “That one’s already sold. They should be dropping by to pick it up anytime now.” She raised her cup towards you, “I told you bestiaries are essential reading.”

“For dungeon masters, maybe,” you hummed as you studied the cover again. The red and citrine jewels in the wolves’ eyes seemed to be winking at you when the light hit them at the just right angle. 

“Which is an essential contribution to society,” Maggie punctuated her sentence with a loud slurp. 

Your lips gave way to a small grin as you set the book to the side. You’d stocked around half the stacks of books when the front door chimed for the first time since your shift started. You looked towards the door and squinted at the increasingly familiar smattering of freckles and moles, “Are you stalking me now? I will tell your dad; I’m not above snitching or stitches.” 

Stiles blinked a few times and then shook his head, holding up his hands, “I swear on my jeep this time it’s a coincidence. I ordered something here like a week ago.”

You folded your arms over your chest, “And your jeep is sacred, is it?”

Stiles nodded solemnly and rested his hand over his chest, “The sacredest.” 

If the muttered cursing and aggressive sipping was anything to go by, Maggie was too busy with her eBay war to be of any help with inventory. Stocking would have to wait. You stood up and glanced over Stiles’s shoulder, “Where’s your sidekick?”

Stiles squeezed one eye almost completely shut and looked off into the void with the other until realization dawned over his face, “You mean Scott?” He snorted and shot you a grin that was loaded with self-pity, “I’m usually the sidekick reference. Always, actually.” 

You nodded and looked down, searching for the culprit of the little head butting into your shin. Gizmo was probably the most ineffective, geriatric guard dog in the entire animal kingdom, but you appreciated the effort. You scooped him up into your arms so that he could better inspect the strange boy who’d invaded his den and nuzzled your nose against the black stripe on top of his head. “They do tend to never shut up.” 

Stiles looked like he wanted to argue—a frequent expression of you were beginning to realize—and then his shoulders slumped in defeat, “Holy shit, I’ve been type-casted.”

“You could do an arthouse film,” you tilted your head, “show people you’ve got range.”

Stiles nodded, considering the idea, “My charming wit and boyish good looks are really holding me back.” He stooped down to scratch behind Gizmo’s ears. Gizmo bristled for a moment, eyeing his hand suspiciously, but he eventually flopped back in your arms after a few curious sniffs. “No one takes me seriously.”

“Uh huh.” You watched Stiles pet Gizmo and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, trying to remember the last man Gizmo hadn’t bit. You couldn’t recall a single one. Warmth enveloped your face when Stiles looked up and met your gaze. He didn’t appear to think much of it, just turned his eyes towards the ground and stroked Gizmo’s little gray toes. 

You set Giz down, despite his pathetic protests, and turned towards the stockpile of inventory, fighting the urge to bite your nails to the quick, “So, what’d you order, boy wonder?” You looked over your shoulder when Stiles didn’t answer. He was smiling a little, mostly to himself, with his hands shoved in his pockets. Your brows quirked, “What?”

“Nothing.” He groaned a little when you kept looking at him, your brows still cocked, and then shrugged with his hands still fisted in his jacket pockets, “It’s just not so bad, the sidekick thing. It’s not so pathetic when you say it like that.”

You swallowed, a little startled by his honesty even though you were the one who’d insisted upon it. “Order?”

“Right,” he nodded a few times and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a thickass book, wolves on the front, about yea big,” Stiles held his palms almost six inches apart from each other. “Please don’t make me say the name; I’m pretty sure it’s Latin.”

You grabbed the bestiary you’d set aside earlier and looked at the cover again; there was a small inscription just below the tree roots. “It’s Greek, actually.” You brushed your fingers over the indented letters, “φυσιολόγος.”

Stiles shook his head and took his frustration out on the air with a dramatic jerk of his hands, “In English?”

“The Naturalist,” your lips curled into a shrewd smile, “so sorry we don’t carry it in Japanese.”

Stiles pursed his lips and snatched the book out of your hands. “Hilarious. Truly. I don’t just watch anime, y’know. I also like…” he trailed off and scratched at the nape of his neck, “very cool, normal things.”

“Such as?” 

He pulled a face that was distinctly reminiscent of a little kid sticking their tongue out, “Such as shut your face.”

“Wow.” Shaking your head, you returned to your task of shelving books—this one was about the spiritual properties of mushrooms—and made a popping noise with your tongue against the top of your mouth, “You better hope there’s an English translation in there ‘cause consider my mouth officially shut.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Stiles continued quickly, words almost overlapping with the speed of his tongue, before you could take advantage of such low-hanging fruit, “I made sure I could read it before I bought it—being comprehensible is literally the least it can do for 50 bucks plus shipping.” He shook his head and held up the book, “Can you believe the library wouldn’t order it for me?”

“Imagine that,” you chided, “and with all the demand for vintage bestiaries too.”

He dropped his order on top of a rickety writing desk that supposedly belonged to a Beacon Hills’ heretic who died in the 1800s—at least, according to the tag hanging from one of the drawers and Maggie’s generous interpretation of her family history. “D&D is coming back in a big, big way,” Stiles pointed at you and winked with obnoxious flourish, “just you wait.”

You smirked, pointedly ignoring your recurrent childhood obsession with Egyptian and Roman mythology, and smacked the side of the price gun until the sticker tape unjammed, “My instinct is to make fun of you, but I’m afraid the hypocrisy will catch up with me.”

“What?” Stiles glanced around the store and smirked, “Are you one of those new-agey astrology, crystal nerds? How many fingers is my aura holding up right now?”

You gave him a flat look and reached for another book. “We don’t sell crystals, actually. They aren’t that common in ritualistic spell-casting.”

Stiles blinked slowly, “You’re joking.”

“Wish I was.” You still weren't entirely sure if Maggie actually believed in all this spiritualist-mythical bullshit. She contradicted herself constantly, and often said things just to make your face pinch in disbelief, but at the same time she still insisted that you keep a protection charm bundle under your bed. The smell of the divination tea, at the very least, was great at warding off unwanted chitchat. “Animal blood is the main ingredient in most of ‘em.”

“That’s…repulsive,” Stiles cringed, restless fingers meandering towards the shelves of books next to you. He pulled out a small illuminated grimoire and flipped through the yellowing pages, pulling a face every so often at some of the more unsavory hex materials. 

You pried the book from his fingers and slid it back into its correct slot. Maggie didn’t actually ask you to organize them; her exact words were, ‘Slap a sticker on ‘em and stick ‘em on a shelf,’ but the idea of such a chaotic setup haunted you until you finally reshelved them all with a revised, occult-specific Dewey Decimal System. “It’s actually just corn syrup and—”

“100% authentic dove juice,” Maggie interrupted from behind the front counter without removing her face from her monitor.

Stiles jerked his head to the side, evidently just realizing that there was someone else in the room with you, and then swiveled back to you with his face stretched out in a toothy grin, “That dove juice discount must save you, like, so much money.”

You watched Stiles, warily and wearily, reach for a meditation journal from one of the heaps by your legs, “I have to stock that.”

Stiles turned the journal over in his hands, “Lemme help.”

You huffed deeply and gestured to the diligently organized bookshelves, “I have a system.”

He gave a staunch shake of his head and hunched down so that he could read the small stickers on the spines, “I owe you—for covering for me.”

You took the journal from his hands and squatted down to the bottom shelf. You quickly found the guided meditation section and managed to squeeze the bulky notebook between ‘Walking the Pagan Path’ and ‘Warding Your Mind' with some aggressive wiggling. You looked up briefly and met Stiles’s eyeline. He was especially lanky from this angle. Lanky and soft, with his layers of sleeves and rounded features. You tucked a loose curl behind your ear and looked back at the line of jewel-toned spines, “How is he? Scott?”

“Better.” He tapped his fingers against the top of the bookshelf to a rhythmic beat that felt familiar, “Exposure therapy is a real pain in the ass.”

“I thought it was ‘low blood sugar.’”

“That too.” Stiles leaned over your head and grabbed another book, and you shivered the soft cotton hem of his jacket skimmed over your face. “He’s hemophobic and breakfastphobic,” he said as he handed you the book. You hummed softly in appreciation as he continued, “It’s a vicious cycle, actually. Dude would totally fall apart without me.”

“That’s nice.” You tipped your chin up towards him and grinned, “Totally bogus, but still nice.”

“I told you.” His smile was smug, but somehow still dopey enough to be charming, “I’m a nice guy.”

Your thighs started to ache from squatting in the same position for so long, so you dropped onto your knees, shivering as your bare skin pressed against the cold hardwood floor. “I’m still not sharing my sacrificial blood discount with you.”

“Guess I have to get a job here, then,” Stiles shrugged and leaned against the bookcase, jerking back a bit when he turned his head and came face-to-face with a yellow-eyed taxidermied owl. He turned it around until the glass eyes were safely pointed in the opposite direction and said, “That way I can drive you nuts all day long and become a master wizard.”

You clicked your tongue; the cluck rang with saccharinely sweet pity, “Sucks that you’re only qualified for the first part.”

“Yeah? How’d you get the job, then? You clearly don’t respect the craft.” Stiles ran his spindly fingers along a row of spines, and you wondered if he could play the piano. He certainly had the hands for it. 

“Mags knew my mom, so…” you chewed on your lip until the metallic tang of copper burst on the tip of your tongue. You abruptly returned your attention to shelving the Wicca section and fiddled with the spines until they were all perfectly in line with each other, “It’s more nepotism than anything else, but I do take the history books home sometimes.”

Stiles looked at you, and the prickling sensation of being seen started slithering through your nervous system again. It took you a few tries to get Greek and Roman Necromancy to slip into the small gap on the shelf in front of you. Stiles crouched down next to you. His mouth was twisted around a sly smile, but you could see the earnestness in his eyes, “Witch training?”

You grinned a little, grateful for the out, “Hardly. I just like the lore.”

“Yeah,” Stiles’ gaze drifted towards the book he ordered; the wolves’ gleaming eyes were almost hypnotic, “me too.” 

“I’d hope so, for 50 bucks.” you nudged his knee with your elbow, and he swayed precariously on his perched toes and then shot you a glare that lacked any actual malice. “There are cheaper D&D monster manuals, y’know.”

He snickered and elbowed you in the ribs, gently but his bony limbs were sharp and unforgiving, “I knew you were a nerd.”

You were tempted to rebut the accusation, but he already had far too much evidence to the contrary. At least, he didn’t know about your Data/Geordi fanfiction phase—and no one ever would, you thought darkly. You’d have to kill them, probably, or at the very least flee the country.

“At least I’m not a sucker.” You stood up and brushed off your socks, though there was nothing to be done about the red indentations on your kneecaps from kneeling on oak flooring for so long, “Just how easy would it be to convince you to drop another 50 on a replica Byzantine amulet?”

Stiles held out his hand, shaking it in the air incessantly for far too long. You tilted your head and tried not to smirk at his predicament. The longer you watched him struggle, the more pathetic his pleading became. Eventually, Stiles groaned and pushed himself onto his feet with exaggerated effort, “Obviously not very. Evil spirit didn’t even crack the top 20 on my suspect pool.”

“Got it.” You propped your arm on top of an antique guillotine, bent elbow crooked along the wooden pillory. Stiles stared at the rusted blade and then gawked at your arm. He looked like he was a few seconds away from shoving you out of the way, even though the edge was dull with age and safely secured to the iron frame with thick rope. Rolling your eyes, you stepped away from the antique and trailed your fingers over a less forbidding oddity. 

You spun the brass globe a few times and said, “So silver bullets, then? I’m sure there’s some kind of bulk-discount we can work out.”

Stiles’ eyes snapped to your face, “What?”

“You know,” you gestured towards the order he abandoned while buzzing after you like an especially tenacious mosquito, “for all the werewolves running around town. Thought you’d already know that, being a wannabe wizard n’all.” 

“Right.” Stiles’s jaw shut with a click as he ran his hand over his head, “Duh.” He rubbed at his bicep and swallowed a few times before clearing his throat, “Didn’t get to that chapter yet. Clearly, I’ve got a lot of studying to do before I graduate from apprentice to master.” 

You squinted at him, mulling over if you should call him out on his odd behavior or just chalk it up to his usual weirdness. Maggie materialized behind you before you could do either. She placed her hands on your shoulders, squeezing softly, and then shuffled you to the side so that she could join your little circle, “I’m strictly anti-gun violence; the NRA hates me—but we do carry wolfsbane essence.”

“Don’t say essence,” you grimaced.

“We have some wolfsbane goo in the back.” Maggie pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and pivoted back to you, “Happy?”

“Not even remotely.” You turned towards Stiles, finally grateful for his presence. Usually, you were on your own in your never-ending believer versus non-believer disputes, and Maggie was somehow under the impression that she wasn’t massively outnumbered beyond these four spooky walls. Oddly, Stiles looked lost in thought. The one time you needed his dismissive snark, and he just had to actually consider the opposing side.

“Is this like the dove juice thing?” Stiles watched Maggie’s face closely, astute eyes tracking every minute twitch and flicker in her expression. It was easy to make out all the different pieces of Sheriff Stilinski in his face like this. You could see the calculations running behind his eyes, the strings coming together, the chess pieces moving. The effect was startlingly piercing. “Or is this actually the real deal?”

You stared at him, face scrunched in bewilderment, but Maggie was undeterred, “We only sell the real deal in the back, to the honored few.”

Stiles looked towards you, his right brow raised. You sighed, folding your arms over your chest and flicking your hair over your shoulder, “Real useless, but…yeah. The plants are real I guess.”

Maggie winked, “I’ll even give you the friends and family discount.”

You scoffed, “We aren’t friends.”

Stiles frowned, momentarily distracted from his intense investigation of Maggie’s body language, “We aren’t?”

You licked your rapidly drying lips and shook your head slightly, more confused than indignant. Truth be told, you’d expected him to agree with you. You hadn’t known each other for long, and he seemed to be more interested in your connection to Lydia than forming one with you. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wanted to talk to you about anything else. It’d been a long time since anyone wanted to, that’s all. The friends who hugged you at the funeral, they stopped coming around a long time ago, and they still avoided you at school—like you were contagious, like you’d leak radiation and your misery would metastasize in their bone marrow. You still woke up crying sometimes, throat claggy with stubborn shadows, choking on the hollow bones of picked-apart memories—too busy shoveling dirt to consider tomorrow. 

You scratched at your arm absently and rolled your eyes, slowly, so that everyone could see how utterly unaffected you were, “It’s a couple hundred bucks for a few millimeters of emulsified weeds. If we were friends, I wouldn’t even let you buy something so stupid.”

Stiles’s frown quickly curved into a crooked grin, boyishly charming and vexingly sure, “Sounds like that’s exactly what you’re trying to do.”

Maggie reappeared through the door to the back room, locking it with one of the many keys dangling from her strawberry lanyard. You didn’t have a clue when she’d disappeared to begin with, but the vial clutched in her hand was far more interesting. It was filled with a thick purple liquid, so dark it was almost black. Maggie held it out to Stiles and laughed at his inquisitive stare, “It’s on the house this time, ‘cause you’re such good friends with my darlingest girl.”

Eventually, Stiles took the vial from her hand. “Yeah, darling,” Stiles smirked and rolled the vial between his long fingers, “‘cause we’re such good friends.” The liquid sloshed slowly, a little like a lava lamp, and you kind of wanted to stuff it down his throat.

“Careful with that,” Maggie blinked at you behind her thick lenses. She wasn’t grinning or winking. It was a little eerie to see her so still, like her body had been snatched by a pod person and it was trying to mimic casual human behavior. “It's potent stuff. Shish-kebab a were with that, and they’ll be dead by sunrise—humans too, obviously, so please don’t stick it in your mouth.”

“If you can even get that close,” Stiles muttered to himself as he held the vial up to his pinched gaze.

“To a werewolf,” you deadpanned, looking between the two of them, searching their faces for any indication of irony. Bat-shit. Your grand total of two friends were both certifiably batty.

Stiles was too busy looking at the back of Maggie’s head to absorb your mockery. Your brow furrowed at the intensity of his stare until your attention was diverted to the dusky orange cast over his skin. You glanced out the window; daylight was rapidly fading. Was it really already almost 8:30? “You should probably head home,” you raised your chin towards the door, “if you don’t want to run into the big bad wolf with a purple goo heavy arsenal.” 

He let out a little laugh, more like a breath really, and muttered, “You have no idea.” Your forehead crinkled as you parsed over whatever the hell that meant, and Stiles shoved the book he ordered into his already overcrowded backpack. “I’ll see you at school.”

Your chin bobbed as you gave him a little nod. You lifted Gizmo from his bed of tasseled meditation cushions, for your own comfort this time, and nosed into his matted fur. Maybe, Stiles was just…really into larping, or maybe he was just…a really dedicated collector of supernatural keepsakes—because there was absolutely no way that you just naturally attracted delusional conspiracy theorists. You’d already met your quota of one the moment you were born. 

“Get home safe.” Stiles’s voice pulled your face from Gizmo’s neck. He lingered against the doorframe, clutching his backpack strap. The corner of his mouth cocked into a tight smile, “No more dead batteries after dark, okay? I’ll kick your ass if you get eaten.”

You took a moment to smile, but once you did, it unfurled over your entire face like sunset coating the store in a golden glow. The corners of your eyes crinkled as you shook your head a little, “I’ll try to restrain myself from killing any more cars.”

“Friends,” Stiles grinned and pointed at you, “we’re totally friends.” He ducked out the door before you had the chance to disagree, but you couldn’t decide if you really wanted to this time. 

You almost dropped Gizmo when Maggie bumped you with your hip. “Who the hell was that?” 

“Stiles. He’s…” you waved your hand in the air and eventually settled on, “a friend.”

Maggie stroked the gray fluff on Gizmo’s cheek, cooed when he rubbed his face against her palm, and then pursed her lips, “Uh huh.”

You shrugged and buried your nose in Gizmo’s neck again, taking solace in the fact that at least half of your face was hidden by silver fur, “So he’s more like a fungus in my life.”

Maggie’s grin was insufferable. Her cheeks dimpled, and her eyes nearly disappeared into happy little crescent moons, “Uh huh.”

You glowered at a stuffed crow perched on top of a water-logged armoire; there was a shine in its beaded eyes that appeared a lot like laughter. “You are the single most irritating person I have ever met.”

It was an admirable trait, never getting upset, never getting offended—but at the moment you wished that Maggie wasn’t so idealistic. She simply gave you a smile that was annoyingly wrought with meaning and took Gizmo from your arms. “Whoever the hell he is, he’s right. Get your ass home before the Wolf Man bites it.”

Maggie wiggled her fingers in the air, and you shoved them away from your face. “I’m going. I’m going.” You paused at the door, gave the store one last look and Gizmo a little good-bye wave, “Seriously, mini-taser, Mags. Prime shipping’s gotta be faster than the spirit realm.” At the very least, a taser might actually have a chance against whatever carnivore was hell-bent on ruining your sophomore year.

[doctorgirlsblog]

Merz Prinzessin vs. Dutch Lion (series)

Part 9: Bad Timing

"Lando?", she spun around, totally surprised to see him. He just smiled softly, shoving his hands in his hoodie as he came closer.

"Waiting for someone?" he whispered, eyes locked on hers.

"I..actually yes. Sorry, it is nice to see you, I just didn't expect it..not after what happened."

"Yeah.. I took some time to think everything through. I want to give this, us, a second chance Aria. Because I love you. And I don't care what happened between you and Max, as long as you choose me. I know that there somewhere," -he stepped even closer to her so they were chest to chest, before he put his hand gently over her heart,- "in that heart of yours, you love me too."

Before she had time to react, he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her like a man starved. Aria's eyes widened, as she gasped into his mouth, putting her hands on chest in attempt to push him away.

But what Max saw at that moment, standing above the pathway, looked completely different. With a disappointed shake of his head, he dropped the roses on the patio before turning around and leaving. As he sat back in his parked car, he could feel his eyes burning with unshed tears. He hit the steering wheel repeatedly, closing his eyes, his breathing ragged.

"Why?! Why would you do this to me?" He felt completely crushed by what he saw; their kiss played on repeat in his head.

He stayed still for a couple of minutes more before he started his car, driving back home, ready to drown his thoughts about her in alcohol.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

"Lando, wait." Aria managed to push him away. Her lips were red and swollen and she ignored little devil on her shoulder telling her how good he felt. She couldn't, she won't do this to Max.

"Aria, what are you-?"

"Please wait. I don't want to hurt you again Lando. I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't be with you."

"What? Why?" Lando spoke sadly, looking at her like a kicked puppy, and she knew that she had to let him down gently, not wanting to sadden him even more.

She caressed his cheek with her hand, Lando instantly leaning into her touch, as she spoke gently.

"Part of me will always love you, Lan. But I can't be with you. I'm sorry; I have to go." And with that her touch was gone, and so was she.

As she neared the stairs leading to the parking lot, she stopped dead in her tracks. Blue roses lay scattered on the ground, petals crushed. She picked one up, her eyes already tearing up as she looked around the lot.

"Oh Max.."

Seems like not all fairytales have a happy ever after.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Max kept drowning his sorrows in all kinds of alcohol he had available, looking at his phone that hadn't stopped ringing for an hour. Funny, he thought to himself, how he had waited for those calls for so long. There were dozens of unread messages, every single one from her, and Max had to sustain the desire to read at least one.

"Never again, Aria. Never again."

And knowing Max Verstappen, that was a promise.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Aria kept calling; Max's promise played on repeat in her head. Thinking back on how it must have looked to him, she understood why he wasn't answering. She kept trying, nonetheless.

The next race weekend arrived, but Aria felt like a plague in the paddock. Charlotte's inability to attend didn't help matters either. Lando was staying away from her, even though she caught him glancing at her sadly whenever she was near.

Max, on the other hand, was a menace. Angry since Thursday and media day, driving recklessly and reacting aggressively toward anyone who dared to say something. Still, he managed to drive perfect times, leaving Aria in second place, two seconds behind, in qualifying. Yet, when he did look at her, it seemed like he was looking at a ghost, because his eyes were dull and empty, not a single emotion showing on his face. It was like to him, Aria didn't exist anymore.

She kept staring at him from her garage, contemplating whether it would be absolutely crazy to go over to him. Someone tapped her on the shoulder, breaking her stare, so she turned around.

"Norris is here. Wants to talk to you." Elena said softly, nodding towards fidgeting Lando, standing in the corner.

Aria walked over to him, both already dressed in their racing suits.

"Lan.." she said gently.

"Um..I just wanted to see you before the race, to wish you good luck, like every one before. I.."

"I know. I miss this too. Maybe...we could..be friends?"

Lando smiled at her, his smile a little too sour to be sincere. "Yeah..friends."

Aria stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his torso, sighing as she cuddled more into him. At least she managed to make amends with Lando. He understood.

What neither of them saw were paparazzi, currently filming that friendly hug and Max's eyes darkening on the screen stream, before he pulled his visor down.

"I'd better go now. Good luck, Aria. Stay safe," Lando murmured into her ear before pulling away and smiling sadly at the girl.

"Good luck to you too, Lan. See you on the podium," she joked lightly, kissing his cheek. Lando couldn't help but remember all the kisses they shared before those races. Was it really all gone?

With the race about to start and only Max's car in front of her, Aria heard the radio crackle, and Elena's voice came through.

"Good luck Aria. You got this."

Note: The next part will be a red flag. A race flag. Stay tuned.

Tag list:

@m4xgirlie

@amz824

@samriddhisingh

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 5

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Loose spoilers for 'Mischief' anecdote and Sylus Myth.

Word Count: 1275

Written: 21st December 2024

Notes: Post-relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

You've passed out, midway through some movie about a man in green visiting some city in search of his father. Sometime during your movie marathon with Sylus, he'd noticed you'd stopped caring what you'd put on. He'd gotten too invested in Die Hard (a Christmas movie, you swore), and had been more than horrified that the inaccuracies didn't bother you.

At that point you'd stopped showing him movies you really loved, instead giggling with glee at making him watch some of the worst or silliest things you could find. To see his nose scrunch, and what you'd (incorrectly) called his snobby rich boy taste.

Of all the movies you could watch, he refused to understand why toilet humour had entertained you so.

It hadn't, he thinks, his inability to not roll his eyes, had been your goal.

Still, the laughter had been worth it. He would do anything to hear it forever, so perhaps he'd let you play terrible movies for the end of time.

As you murmured in your sleep, at which he'd lowered his head to try to make words out. (Something about a farmers market, and a duck?) He'd left your side, reluctant but knowing you needed to eat. Something other than cookies. You'd at least drank the water he made sure was at your side, if he left you alone he thinks you'd subsist off caffeine.

When he untangles himself from you, carefully, so carefully because while he'd love to bring you with him, the bags under your eyes demand more sleep than you've been getting. He checks you over once more, tugging the soft pink blanket over you. (It doesn't match the decor but you'd said pink suited him. He'd given you a look of disbelief... but he hadn't stopped using it since. Despite running a higher temperature than anyone you knew.)

He met the twins in the kitchen, stuffing sugar cookies into their mouths, as soon as they heard the door open. Two pairs of guilty, wide eyes shot to stare.

He's seen raccoons before, digging through food in the bins. He won't compare them, out loud, but the look is similar. "You better hope the doctor doesn't count those." Luke gulps, Kieran fidgets.

There was little the doctor was protective over, or possessive over. Sugar, and the kitten curled up on his sofa, were the two that mattered. He'd also been informed of their presence, waiting for him.

Sylus knows no matter what, even the N109 zone wouldn't keep the good doctor away from either of those things, especially in the same room.

With a smug, little self satisfied purr, he stuffs one of the fresh baked cookies into his mouth.

Food was always better shared, than alone, as he'd learned over the years.

"Is it dinner time?" Luke asks, swinging his legs as he jumps back up on the counter. Watching Sylus grab things from around the room, pulling his phone out to find a recipe he'd been sent by the prince.

'I want to make this.'

'I'm not letting you make it in my kitchen.'

'They'll like it.'

'They won't like the base being set on fire.'

In the end he'd promised to make it instead. If only to save everyone from the prince's electronic based curse.

He nods at the question, and as he watches the two out the corner of his eye, he realises he has no idea when they started living here.

He's aware of the time they've been working for him, he remembers the day he met them vividly. He's deeply familiar with how he felt watching them struggle against Ever's bonds.

The crystals gouged out of skin, the pain, the yearning. It had twisted parts of his chest, and torn at old memories he wished he could forget.

It was never easy to separate from the past, it stayed a part of you even if you desperately wished it wouldn't.

Still, he has no recollection for when they went from visiting for work, to staying, always present unless they wanted to explore together. Talking to him with candour... no, formality was never the twin's forte.

Something had changed, however, and he wasn't sure when.

He follows steps as he muses, though doesn't share his thinking out loud, after all, they seem content to just watch. Sticking leftover crumbs in their mouths, and chattering to each other.

Sylus doesn't really know when making meals for others became like this, he started because it made you happy, he continued because he liked doing it. A simple task, but it garnered praise, and joy. Food was not something he'd needed before, now, however, it was a gift to be shared.

It was simply just as easy to prepare for four (five, as he makes enough to save a plate for the prince), as it was for two.

Kieran hums the song that you were playing earlier, still out of tune, and he has to bite back his laugh, but finds himself joining in. He doesn't remember the words yet he's never discontent for his mind to remember you in every song he ever hears.

"Hey Hunter!"

"Morning!"

You enter the room, rubbing at your eyes, and he finds himself smiling at you easily. It's more a quirk of the lips, and garnet eyes melting, but you smile back as though he's beaming.

Perhaps in his way, he is. He's still unpracticed with joy. With emotions.

Showing them is hard, so he speaks them and he places them into your hands (for your heart to keep) in actions.

He refuses to let you think he is not earnest. Never to lie, never to flatter. You will never doubt his affections, he promises.

As you yawn and pull yourself up onto the kitchen counter, and he wonders why he bothered to buy stools for the bar. None of you seem to use them, content to hover too close. Comment and talk and titter away.

When he'd asked, you'd shrugged. "I like to be tall." You'd teased, kissing his forehead at the height the counter allowed you.

His cheeks had flamed and he'd blinked. Surprised and confused. Until the feeling settled into a burning need. So hungry and desperate and clawing, he'd pulled you in by the back of your neck and bitten, kissed and licked his way up your throat.

Your laughter and sighs had stuck in his head for weeks after.

He found himself wishing you'd do it again, every single time you sat on the counter to watch him cook.

Instead of the twins singing, though you seem to find it entertaining to watch them relax, you reconnect your phone to the sound system he installed in the kitchen.

For you, ever since he visited your own place to see your speakers hooked up on the wall, humming away as you baked bread. Told him music made any task better, even the ones you hated.

Sylus has been so used to solitude his entire life. Before the abyss, after the abyss. He's spent longer alone, than he has with others. Even when he built Onychinus, ground up, clawing and scratching to his makeshift throne, nothing had touched that solitude.

His time in the clouds had been short in comparison. A blip.

A torn out moment as close to bliss as he could ever have thought to get.

This. Here. A low chuckle in his throat, songs in the air, and warmth in his joined heart... he could not bear to trade or lose.

Even when one of the twins, pointing at each other when whirled on, throws a slice of carrot at his head.

[sxaxmxx1]

Melancholy of a ghost

Ronin X Reader (Killer Chat) Ghost one shot

trigger warnings -> dealing with grief, mention of death + very slight description. If this theme is not for you, that's alright, skip it. I will be thankful to see you at a different fic of mine. Take care, remember you are loved.

You never fully understood when someone said the world stops when their important person dies. Perhaps you never wanted to understand in a fear of it happening. But as if life wanted to give you a lesson, it made the suffering arrive. It made you understand exactly why the clock won’t move the same way it did before. 

Ronin was your best friend, other half, soulmate. Whatever anyone calls it. His favorite word used to be rot. You were his rot. He was your rot. And together you were rotten to the very core of being. 

Yet nothing could match the rot this town has ingrown in it. Ever since the first building was placed, things went down for anyone slightly different from the norm. And that, unmistakably, was Ronin. They would consume a piece of him every day, while he acted out to be whole. Yet you didn’t believe it. Sooner or later those bites this city took of him did appear. 

He was slowly taken apart and you were forced to sit back and watch while not being able to do absolutely anything. And that eventually looped into something much worse. 

That night is still alive in your mind. Hunting you. Never leaving. Ronin would not pick up the phone. Your stomach sank. Clothes grew wet as you ran through the street, rain was a foretaste of tears that will soon run down those cheeks of yours. His life was already lost. It was too late. No crying, no screaming, no gripping on his red painted clothes would bring your best friend back. 

As you sit here, in your dark, cold room, memories fly through your head. A funeral no one else came to. This city took him away and didn’t even bother to say goodbye. Anger filled you then, melancholy fills you now. 

‘’In your thoughts again, aren’t ya?’’ 

Whispers came to you, filled your ears with the familiar, sweet feeling of comfort and home. You can’t remember what was the first time he appeared. It started slow. Shadows. Whispers. Objects moving from place to place. And eventually Ronin showed up. You thought it was a hallucination. Your mind filled with sadness, broken heart couldn’t take it anymore and started to hallucinate your loved one. But then it clicked. There must be a life after this one and for some reason he got stuck there. 

He thought the reason was simple. Not even the grim fucks with me. But you knew it’s something else holding him, tying his ankles to the ground. It was someone. It was you and the inability to let go. It was a small thought at the back of mind. It was love. Devotion. And he’s here because this stayed unspoken. 

‘’Aww, are you hiding something from me? That’s not what we do, my rotten darling.’’ 

A damn teasing smile runs over his lips. He’s grinning like a child with excitement in his eyes. As if his life didn’t end because he was hurting too much. And so you reply a simple, soft and quiet ‘’yes.’’ Which wipes that smirk off. Walking around, he places his hand on your shoulders, leaning closer. His palms feel like glass shatters digging into your skin while he twists a dagger in your heart. 

You’ve been selfish for far too long. Keeping Ronin here just to soothe your own loneliness, unable to accept that he lies in a casket now. That his touch no longer feels warm. That his breath no longer tickles your ear while he leans in for a whisper. 

‘’Don’t let it bother ya. Lean it on me!’’

With a sigh your eyes begin to fill with tears. He looks concerned. Yet, you are the one filled with fear.

‘’I love you, Ro.’’

Shock is written all over his face. Yours too. That pain is unbearable. He laughs. Then again and again and again. His hands cup your cheeks. Feeling soft. Cold. It’s no longer him, but snow that is embracing you. As if you laid in the ground with his body. Watch how worms make a meal out of what used to be yours. 

Lips crash into lips. Passionate, fast. He’s trying to devour you whole, claim what’s been his for the longest time. The catch is. When your eyes open, he’s gone. You know that was the last time. And he never said it back. Never will.

Now it’s only you and warm tears full of sorrow. Longing. Wanting more and wishing for things to be different. Grief that will eventually place you to the ground too. That will ruin you and consume you like this city does. 

This city is rot. Not him. And you decay already. It was him who was a ghost. But you were the dead one really.