#I'm expecting curveballs

[overworkedunderwhelmed]

For context, I’ve really only seen all episodes that have aired (as of 29 Dec 2022)

There really isn’t anything I’ve not seen coming in some fashion since Season 4 aside from this moment:

[theskoomacat]

new season of Fargo: oooh, those pesky men smh 🙄 city girls women are bitches too tho. i bet you liked You're Next, huh? here, have another weirdo 3d party killer to play with

me: ok

Fargo: oh also he's a man who took on another's sins for a piece of bread in 16 cent Wales

me: I'M LISTENING

[dex-starr]

Oooh I didn't think I could still have an anxiety attack like this well this is a surprise

[couldbebetterforsure]

We have a little less than three days until those Jack Jeanne favorite role polls I put up are closed but let's do a little progress report on results so far! I won't go into spoilers on what roles are winning because I want you guys to see for yourself when you vote/wait for the results, but let's see!

For Kisa, it's a race between two roles to get to the top right now and I'm surprised by how dumb I was not to consider one of those roles to be a fan favorite like DUH of course that one would be popular too!

For Suzu, it's surprisingly much closer than I was expecting. At one point we had a four way tie going on! I'm happy because like I said all of Suzu's roles are really enjoyable so I like seeing how close this poll is.

For Sou, while very much skewing in the direction I expected, I am seeing a bit more support for a couple other roles than I thought there would be!

For Mitsuki, it is VERY much as lopsided as I expected it to be! But there's one vote I am soooooo curious about the voter's reasoning because it was an unexpected one!

For Fumi, it's a very close race between the two roles I expected and I am genuinely not sure which one will come out on top. One day it's one role the other day it's the other role and so on and so forth.

For Kai, it's another case of it leaning in the direction I expected it to go but I am once again seeing more support for certain other roles than I anticipated!

For Neji, yup that's pretty much how I expected the results to be leaning! But it's interesting in that Neji's poll is the only one other than Otori's that has at least one vote for every choice going on.

For Otori, like I said his I am most curious about and most unsure what direction the voting will go. But it's another close race between one role I expected and the other that I didn't expect but am now shaking my head over not considering the popularity of.

[arretoskore]

.

[charlesslut16]

Can you write a fic (I was thinking about max but you can do any driver really) where the reader and the driver are best friends to lovers in the early days of the drivers career. The reader supported the driver through it all and wants nothing more but for them to succeed. As the drivers career really starts to kick off, the reader falls pregnant. When the driver finds out, (thinking of max here) he thinks he's going to be a terrible father and gets nervous thinking how he may ruin a whole life, he suggests getting rid of the baby and the reader thinks it's cause of his career, tells him she respects the fact that he doesn't want the baby, but she's going to keep it. ANGSTY please

-losing you to trauma-

summary : max is to unsure to have children, to stay with you and raise your daughter...

PAIRING: max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : max leaving reader, angst

note : as i'm a girl of a single mother, whose father did almost the exact same thing, it hurts. But i hope that you still like it!

masterlist

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Max Verstappen's Formula One career was just beginning to take off. He was young, talented, and driven, with an intensity that made his presence felt on the track and off it.

His best friend, you, since childhood, had always been there, cheering him on from the sidelines, through every victory and defeat, every celebration and heartbreak.

You both shared a bond that was unbreakable, an understanding that didn't need words. You had seen Max's potential long before the rest of the world, had believed in him when he was just a boy with a dream and a passion for racing.

And after time, you two had become a couple. A happy one, both driven by the drill of driving and passion. But as Max's career soared, so did the distance between you both. Not in your hearts, but in the time you could spend together.

You understood; you had always known that Max was destined for greatness, and you were content to support him from the background. You never complained, never asked for more than what he could give.

Your relationship had evolved quietly. What started as innocent hand-holding during tough times in your racing careers became something deeper, more profound.

It wasn't long before you crossed the threshold from best friends to lovers, a natural progression that felt right for both of you. You didn't need to label it; you simply knew you belonged together.

But then, life threw the both of you a curveball. You found yourself staring at a positive pregnancy test, the weight of the world suddenly resting on your shoulders. You knew this would change everything, for both.

When told Max, his reaction was far from what you hoped for. Instead of joy, there was fear in his eyes. He looked at you, his face pale and his hands shaking, and said, "I can't do this. I don't know how to be a father. I'll ruin everything. Maybe we should... maybe we should consider not having the baby."

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You had expected hesitation, but not this. Not the suggestion to get rid of the life you had created together. Tears welled up in your eyes, but fought them back.

You needed to be strong, for yourself and for the baby.

"Is this about your career?" you asked, her voice trembling but steady. "Are you worried that having a baby will ruin everything for you?"

Max shook his head, but his eyes told a different story. "No, it's not that. I just... I don't want to mess up. I don't want to be a terrible father. I don't want to ruin a whole life because I don't know what I'm doing."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Max, I respect that you're scared. I am too. But this isn't just about you. This is about us, and about this baby. I can't make this decision for you, but I need you to know that I'm going to keep it. I understand if you don't want to be involved, but I have to do this."

His face crumpled, and he pulled you into his arms, holding tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

You clung to him for dear life, tears streaming down your face. "I love you, Max. And I believe in you, just like I've always believed in you. You can do this. We can do this."

But as much as you tried to reassure him, you could feel the chasm widening between. Max was consumed by his fear, by the thought of failing not just as a driver but as a father.

And though he loved you, his terror of the unknown, of the future, was driving a wedge between the both of you. He could never but your love above the insecurity and that broke you to pieces, that could not be set back together.

The months passed, and Max's career continued to flourish. He threw himself into his racing with a ferocity that left little room for anything else. You watched, heart breaking a little more each day, as the man you loved slipped further away from you.

When the baby was born, a beautiful, healthy girl, Max was there. He had not held her, at the side of you and the baby, his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and fear. But he still couldn't shake his anxiety, couldn't let go of the belief that he would fail them both.

You knew you had to be strong, not just for yourself, but for your daughter. You had always believed in Max, and would continue to do so. But knew that he had to find his own way, had to come to terms with his fears on his own.

And so, with a heavy heart, you let him go, hoping that one day he would find his way back to them. That he would realize that he could be the father their daughter needed, and the partner she had always believed he could be.

Until then, you would keep supporting him from the sidelines, cheering him on just as you always had. Because that's what you do for the ones you love, even when it breaks your heart.

Deep in your heart, you wanted him to come to your house and say that he was sorry and wanted to be in your lives, but as time passed, you realized that he would never come to terms with it.

His trauma being too deep for him to start a family, you accepted the fact, but you never forgave him for it. You love him with your whole heart, and you always will.

Maybe your ways will meet again, who knew?

[justlemmeadoreyou]

hey babes have you seen that video of a fan asking Niall out recently and like he says “oh she(Amelia) will be upset” ? Could you maybe write cut blurb based on that for Harry and y/n??

words: 1.2k

warnings: fluff, smut.

***

"Oi, Harry! You single, mate? My friend fancies you!" a voice called out from the crowd during the concert.

Harry laughed and brought the microphone up to his lips. "Sorry, sorry! I'm very much taken, lads. My girlfriend wouldn't be too pleased if I went accepting offers from admirers!"

Y/N felt a rush of giddy affection watching from the wings. Even after all these years of dating, of building a life together, hearing Harry refer to her as his girlfriend still made her heart flutter.

After the show, Harry swept her up into a tight embrace, breathing her in. "You know I'm crazy about you, right love?" he murmured against her hair.

"I know," Y/N replied, feeling warm and content in the circle of his arms. "I'm pretty crazy about you too, just in case that wasn't clear."

He pulled back with a teasing grin. "Oh, I don't know. You'll have to remind me more often. I'm getting forgetful in my old age."

She swatted him playfully. "You're ridiculous. Now c'mon, I want to get takeaway from that Thai place you like before heading home."

As they walked out to the car hand-in-hand, Harry's bodyguard Mick greeted them with a nod. "Nice show tonight, H. You too, Y/N."

"Thanks Mick," Harry said easily. He always insisted that Y/N be treated as an equal part of the team by his staff and security. From the moment they got together, he made it clear she wasn't just another fling or hanger-on.

In the calm of their flat later, settled on the couch with cartons of fragrant Thai curry, Y/N felt a swell of love for this man. This generous, humble, wildly talented man who could have anyone he wanted but chose her. Chose to keep choosing her, day after day.

Harry must have sensed her watching him, because he looked up and caught her eye with a quizzical smile. "What're you thinking about over there?"

She shook her head a little. "Just…feeling really lucky, I guess. That of all the girls who fancy you, you picked me."

His eyes softened and he set his food down, reaching over to take her hand. "Y/N, you've got it backwards, love. I'm the lucky one. You're the most amazing person I know."

A lump rose in her throat at his earnest tone. "You can't just…say stuff like that and expect me to keep it together," she protested shakily.

Harry's thumb stroked over her knuckles. "It's true though. You make me want to be better, do more with the chances I've been given. I'm in awe of you every day."

Unable to find the words, Y/N leaned in and kissed him deeply, trying to convey the depths of her feelings. Harry kissed her back with equal fervor, until a wet noodle hit the side of his face with a comical splat sound.

They broke apart, stunned for a beat, until Y/N started giggling helplessly. Soon they were both consumed by laughter, food containers forgotten as they held each other. These were the moments Y/N cherished most - the simple intimacy, the shared joy of being thoroughly themselves with each other.

She couldn't imagine her life without Harry's bright spirit, without his love and support buoying her up. They had been through so much together already - the difficult early days of dating an international superstar, the intense scrutiny and pressure from all sides, the constant travelling and time apart.

Through it all, they had remained committed to choosing each other, fighting for their relationship no matter what curveballs life threw their way.

As their laughter faded off into contented silence, Harry pulled Y/N closer until she was tucked against his side. She let out a happy sigh, feeling utterly at peace.

"You know," Harry murmured after a while. "All those fans shouting for me, acting like I'm some big prize to be won…they don't realize I'm the one who hit the jackpot, getting to be with my best friend."

Not trusting her voice, Y/N simply squeezed him tighter. She knew there would always be people trying to get between them, throwing doubts and obstacles in their path. But she also knew with so much certainty - as long as they had this, had each other, nothing else mattered.

Over the next few months, tour life resumed in earnest. Frantic dashes through airports, screaming crowds, hotel room nights blurring together, every waking moment scheduled to the max. Y/N was grateful she could be by Harry's side through the whirlwind, her familiar presence keeping him grounded and sane.

One night after a show in Los Angeles, they were lounging on the hotel room sofa, Harry's head pillowed in Y/N's lap as she carded her fingers gently through his freshly-shampooed hair that always smelt so fucking good.

"You were amazing tonight, babe," Y/N murmured. "That whole stadium was eating out of the palm of your hand."

Harry hummed contentedly at her praise, his eyes slipping closed. "Felt good up there. Like all the pieces just clicked into place once I saw your face in the crowd."

Y/N's heart squeezed at his words. "You mean that?"

"Of course." He blinked up at her solemnly. "Having you there, it's…it's like coming home, no matter where we are in the world."

Tears pricked at the corners of Y/N's eyes as she leaned down to kiss him tenderly. She loved this man so deeply it terrified her sometimes.

As the kiss deepened, Harry's hands came up to cradle her face, holding her to him almost desperately. Soon they were a tangle of roaming hands and shared breaths, shedding layers of clothing with increasing urgency until they lay skin-to-skin, hot and bothered.

Harry trailed hot, openmouthed kisses down the column of Y/N's throat as she arched beneath him with a breathy moan. "Need you," he rasped against the hollow of her neck. "Need to be with you, feel you…"

"Yes, yes Harry please," she panted, raking her nails down his back.

He shuddered at her touch and surged up to capture her lips again in a searing kiss. Then, with practiced tenderness, he sank into her welcoming heat and they both let out ragged gasps at the intensity of that joined feeling.

Moving together in a rhythm, Harry and Y/N lost themselves in each other, with moans and whimpers exchanged between the two as they chased their highs. This was their oasis, their refuge from the craziness of the world outside - just the two of them, tangled up in each other utterly.

Aftershocks still trembling through them both, Harry gathered Y/N close and pressed his lips to her damp hairline.

"I love you," he murmured thickly. "I love you so bloody much, Y/N."

She tilted her head back to gaze at him with sparkling eyes. "I know. And I love you, Harry. Always."

Smiling softly, he brushed the pad of his thumb over her swollen bottom lip. "Forever my girl?"

"Forever," she promised.

***

tell me if you like this <3

[muchosbesitos]

the other woman part 2

pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader

warnings: cheating (once more, i do not condone nor endorse this🤨), bit of angst (?), and fluff

author’s note: finally 😱 sorry it took me so long to get it out lol, hope you all enjoy <33 (gave myself ptsd with the frijoles 😓)

word count: 4k

the other woman part one

You re-read the text message from Miguel over and over again until the words were basically imprinted in your brain, the constant reminder of what this relationship really was. It was just an exchange of pleasure, nothing more and nothing less. Though you'd sworn that you wouldn't engage in any of Miguel’s messages anymore, a part of you couldn't help but be curious as to why he wanted to come over now. You took a few deep breaths to calm your self down, your hands clammy as you typed out a response to his message.

You: ok. no hooking up though

Miguel: 👍🏽

About a half hour later, a loud knock was heard on your door, successfully waking you up from the tiny nap you'd taken. You rushed to clean up the empty ice cream container in front of you and wipe away some away some of the stickiness that was in the corner in your mouth. You opened up the door to see Miguel standing there with disheveled hair and his lab coat still on, probably just getting off from work. The two of you awkwardly looked at each other for a couple seconds before you motioned him to come in, opening the door.

He sat on the couch with his arms folded as he watched the tv show in front of him, not saying anything. You had half the mind to ask him what it was he came over for, but you decided just to wait it out and let him speak when he was ready. "So, Dana told me she confronted you at a coffee shop," he spoke up after a couple minutes, his eyes still focused on the tv. "She did, it was my fault though. I shouldn't have been staring at her for so long," you mumbled, still feeling that lingering embarrassment from your previous confrontation with her. He finally shifted his body to face yours, his hands crossed on his lap and he opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but quickly clamped it shut.

"She and I are getting a divorce. She's known for a while now that I've been seeing you and she's been seeing someone else," he told you, your eyes widening a bit in confusion. He'd told you that they were on the path towards fixing things, that he wouldn't need your company anymore the last time he was in your bed, so this came as a complete curveball. "I'm sorry. I know you tried to keep your relationship intact," you offered, putting your hand on his arm to offer him some kind of comfort. He placed his arm on top of yours before he spoke again, "I didn't come here for your sympathy. I came here because.. I want you to be with me. No hiding and no illicit affairs."

You pulled your hand back from his, biting down on your bottom lip as you started to consider the possibility of actually being in a relationship with Miguel. You'd expected for this moment to make you feel better, that you'd be up in the air cheering from joy, but all you felt was doubt crawling up to the forefront of your mind. "Please say something," Miguel let out with a small sigh, his gaze on where his hand was holding yours.

“I don't want to be in a relationship with you, Miguel."

"Why? Is it because of Dana confronting you? We can work around that, I promise."

"No. It's just.. your daughter's just gonna see me as the person that fucked up her parents' relationship."

"Our relationship was fucked before you even came in the picture, chula. Me and Dana were planning on talking to her and explain the situation."

You nibbled on your bottom lip as you withheld the real reason that you didn't want to be involved with him, but you were snapped out of your thoughts when Miguel placed his hand on your shoulder. "Tell me what's stopping you from getting in a relationship with me and we can work it out. Or I can leave and give you some time to think about it," he told you, his eyes not breaking contact with yours as he spoke. "I don't trust you, Miguel. And that wasn't a problem when we were just sleeping together because I wasn't the one you were going home to. But now you're asking me to put trust and hope that you want to be in a relationship with me and I can't," you finally admitted, his face slightly falling as you spoke.

He stood up and brushed away some invisible wrinkles from his dress shirt, looking over at you. "I'm here asking you to be with me and you don't trust me?" He asked you, almost like you were in the wrong for even doubting him. "You cheated on Dana, who may I remind you, you were married to. So is the concept of me worrying about you cheating on me so outlandish?" You respond, standing up as you looked up at him. He let out a small sigh, placing his hand on your cheek before he dipped his head down to kiss your forehead. "I’ll gain your trust, okay?"

The next couple of months following that night, the rumors that Miguel was recently single began to surface around. Even though you'd taken the initiative to get some space away from him, your heart couldn't help but ache every time you saw one of his lab assistants throw themselves at him. You kept your head down and tried to avoid Miguel at the lab as much as possible, but you couldn't help but notice his lingering stares when you came in to check up on his work. You quickly took notice of his bare ring finger but you didn't let it get your hopes up, you felt like Miguel could easily replace you at any moment and that overpowered any feelings that you felt towards him.

You were dreading having to go to the company party this afternoon, but you decided on going regardless since it was a retirement party for one of your old mentors. The heels on your feet felt uncomfortable as soon as you put it on and the dress you were wearing felt too tight, like you couldn't breathe properly, but you eventually tried to calm down and headed to the Alchemax building. You could tell that the party was set up last minute by the way the streamers were just tossed around and the balloons had zero shape, but you found yourself enjoying the atmosphere regardless.

After congratulating Dr. Connors on his retirement, you sat down at one of the tables and drank the champagne that was being passed around by the caterers. Your eyes widened when you saw that Miguel arrived, wearing a black button down and black slacks that fit him perfectly. It was similar to his work attire, but you'd been avoiding him for so long that you forgot just how handsome he could really be. You gulped down the rest of your champagne and silently prayed to whatever entity there was above that he wouldn't approach you, you were certain that your heart couldn't handle it.

"Is this seat taken?" You looked up to see Miguel standing there, his arm on the top of the chair as he started pulling it back. "No," you responded simply, averting your gaze from him and you noticed that some of the other women at the party were staring at him. You looked through your peripheral to see that Miguel was already staring at you, one of his fingers coming to trail the lace of the dress you had on. "Why aren't you out there talking with your other co-workers? They've all been feening after they heard you were single," you turned to ask him, wanting to know his reasoning for being here with you. "Feening?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping from his lips as he looked at you. "And who told you I was single, chula? Even though we're not together, you're the one that owns my heart," he whispered, kissing your forehead before he walked away.

You felt your heartbeat in your ears after he left, completely speechless after what he said. One of the coworkers you frequented lunch with, Alison, walked over to talk to you but your mind couldn't help but race with thoughts about what Miguel had said. You were snapped out of your thoughts when Alison waved in front of your face, your eyes focusing on her once more. "Sorry about that," you muttered, rubbing the side of your neck awkwardly. "What's on your mind?" She asked, not bothering to keep up with the conversation about her research. You shared the details of what happened with Miguel without actually naming him, and you felt a sense of relief when she didn't show any judgement despite you acknowledging that you’d gotten with a married man.

"Well, obviously I don't condone cheating and I do agree with the point that you're making, that you'd be stupid to think that he wouldn't do the same thing to you. But it sounds like he's really willing to put in the work into working this out with you, and I mean you'll never really have a guarantee that he won't cheat but it's better to just try it out," she offered her bit of advice and you nodded, letting the words really sink in. You changed the subject back to her research, not wanting to think about your relationship problems with Miguel for one night, and you actually paid attention to what she was saying this time. The two of you ended up having a pleasant time talking but you couldn't help but notice that across the room, Miguel couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"Ew, dude. What the fuck?!" You exclaimed when you felt someone's saliva hit your arm while you were waiting for the valet to bring your car back. "Sorry about that," you heard the same intern from a couple weeks ago speak, a throaty laugh escaping from her lips. "Do you have a problem with me or something?" You turned around, your brows furrowing as you wiped away the residue. "My problem is that you think you're so much better than us because you got to bang Miguel, but the truth is that you're nothing but a miserable homewrecker," she scoffed, coughing into her arm afterwards. "Like you weren't throwing yourself at him just a couple weeks ago," you countered back, though a small part of you knew that she had a point. She got closer to you, her nostrils flaring and you could've sworn she had something else to say but someone came in between you two.

"That's enough, don't you think?" Miguel spoke, facing her as he blocked your body away from view. "But Mr. O’Hara, she started it. I would never stoop down to her level, I promise," she whined as you rolled your eyes, biting your tongue back. "Just so you have it clear, I will never be interested in you. Not now and not ever. And I don't want to hear you calling her a homewrecker again when you don't have all the facts," he responded, his back tense as he spoke to her. You heard her footsteps retreat and Miguel turned to look at you once she was out of sight, tilting your chin up so you'd look at him. "Don't let her get to you, okay?" He whispered, keeping eye contact with you. You nodded, feeling some butterflies in your stomach as you walked to your car.

You called in sick on Monday, waking up with a headache and fever, your body completely sore. You only got up from the bed when you heard a knock on your door, assuming that it was probably your Amazon package. "What are you doing here?" You asked, your nose sniffling a bit as you looked over at Miguel. "I heard about what happened. I came to bring you some stuff," he told you, holding up a Walgreens bag. You opened the door to let him in, grabbing a couple tissues on the way back to the couch. You grabbed some lysol from a kitchen drawer and began to spray the couch along with the area around you so you wouldn't infect Miguel.

"Vaporub?" You mumbled, holding up the small container as you looked up at him. “Look, say what you want but that thing seriously has some healing abilities," he responded seriously and you simply nodded, rubbing some on your chest. "I wasn't sure if you ate already or not so I brought you some chicken soup. There's also a couple cough syrups in there, I wasn't sure which one to get," he added, sitting down on the couch next to you. You looked over at him, noticing how nervous he looked to be around you once more. "How was work?" You asked, facing away from him as you coughed into your arm.

The two of you ended up watching the second season of Narcos on your couch, talking about work or talking about the show itself. "I’m sorry for trying to pressure you into being in a relationship with me right after I asked for a divorce from my ex-wife. I know why you have your doubts and I'm sorry that I didn't take those things into account," he told you, rubbing small circles on your thigh as the second season ended. You leaned your head against his shoulder, finding comfort in the embrace. Truth was, no matter how much you tried to deny your feelings for Miguel, you always found yourself coming back to feel the comfort that he could provide you with. "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting that after you told me that we'd be ending things."

Miguel’s movements on your thighs suddenly ceased and he turned to look at you, holding your chin up. "I know you're not exactly ready to be in a relationship with me and I can't really blame you for that. but I've been wondering, what if we take this slow? Like I'll take you out once you feel better and we can start getting to know more about each other than what we look like naked," he offered and you had to bite down on your lower lip to prevent yourself from smiling too hard. "I'd like that a lot," you responded, leaning into kiss his cheek before pulling away, remembering that you had a cold.

About a week later, your cold had completely faded away and you got a text from Miguel, telling you to keep your schedule open today. You couldn't help the large grin that appeared on your face at the prospect of finally going on a date with Miguel, at finally being able to be seen in public with him without any repercussions. Nothing could bring down your mood today, not even your bitchy coworkers spreading rumors or the dirty looks you received when you walked down the hall. You did your best to finish your work as soon as possible so you'd have enough time to shower and get ready.

You'd chosen to wear a simple black dress with some flats since you weren't completely sure where Miguel was taking you, not wanting to look too casual or too fancy. You practically ran over to the door when you heard a knock on your door, your eyes widening when you saw miguel and his daughter standing there. "Hola!" Gabriella told you and you could've sworn it was like looking at a replica of Miguel. "Hola chiquitina, how are you?" You smiled, opening the door and stepping back so they'd come in. Gabriella began to talk about her day at school and soccer practice, a small smile forming on your face at just how energetic she seemed to be.

Miguel tapped you on the shoulder, handing you a bouquet of flowers with a small smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind that I brought Gabi over. Her babysitter wasn't available and i thought it would be the perfect opportunity for you to get to know her," he told you, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek. "No worries, she seems like a lovely kid anyways," you responded, bringing the flowers up to your nose as a smile crossed your face. You went over to the kitchen to put them in a vase, setting them on the kitchen table when you felt a tug on your dress.

"Are you gonna be my new mami?" Gabriella asked, a toothy grin on her face as she looked up at you expectantly. You kneeled down to her level, holding her small hands in yours. "I'm not gonna be your new mommy, because you already have a mommy that loves you and cares for you very much. I have no intentions of replacing your mom, but I do have every intention of taking care of you and loving you," you responded honestly, brushing a loose strand of her hair back. The answer seemed to satisfy her since she pulled you into a tight hug, burying her face into you. "Thank you for being nice! A lot of the kids at school complain about their step-mommies being mean."

Miguel ended up taking you two to an arcade so you and Gabriella could have some fun together and have an opportunity to bond. "Papi! Can we have wings, please?" Gabriella asked when you all stepped inside, automatically running to the food court. "Tenemos frijoles en la casa, chiquitina," he protested but he didn't really sound like he meant it. (we have beans at home) "Papi, we've been eating frijoles for two days now. Let's take a break, pleaseee?" She asked him, putting on her best puppy eyes for him. "Yeah Miguel, pleaseee?" You asked, joining Gabriella and making puppy eyes. He let out a small groan, rubbing his temples before he let himself be taken to the food court. "You two combined is gonna be the death of me, I swear."

Though Miguel had been the one to protest the most against buying food, he'd been the one who ordered twelve wings and a large order of fries. "¿No que no querías?" Gabriella teased him, taking a large sip from her milkshake. (thought you didn’t want any) "Well, I couldn't leave you two eating alone, would be very rude of me," he responded as he took a bite from his fries, making Gabriella giggle. “Should've brought your frijoles in a tupperware," you added in as a joke, though his brows furrowed as he considered it. "Might have to do that for the movie theater next time. I swear, those prices are a scam," he muttered before he went back to eating.

The rest of the meal was spent between Gabriella sharing stories about her friends and how she made five goals at practice today and you trying to keep up with what she was telling you, hoping to score some brownie points with her. Miguel had a small smile on his face as he watched you interact with Gabriella, staying silent for most of the meal. "Is something wrong?" You asked Miguel when Gabriella ran off to get the tickets for the games you'd all be playing. "No, the opposite actually. It's so nice seeing you interact well with Gabriella. I was worried that she wouldn't like you but I think she felt reassured when you told her you weren't trying to replace Dana," he responded, holding your hand as he walked with you to where Gabriella was.

You groaned as you struggled to knock the bottles down, but you didn't want to give up out of your want for the huge Spider-Man plushie. Miguel placed a hand on your shoulder, telling you to step to the side before he handed his tickets to the man at the stand. He threw the balls at the bottles, his forearms flexing with every movement and you could've sworn you felt a bit of drool collecting at the side of your mouth. "Which one do you want?" He asked you after he effectively knocked down the bottles, the man at the stand practically seething at how easy it'd been for him. You pointed to the Spider-Man plushie, a big smile on your face as you held it close to your chest once he’d handed it over.

"Thank you," you told Miguel, standing on your tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "Anything to see you smile that way," he remarked, his words always having the ability to make you get flustered. The two of you headed to where Gabriella was at, joining her in the basketball game that she was playing. She let out a scoff after Miguel won, clearly pissed off. "It's not fair! You're basically a giant, papi!" She whined, looking up at him. "Don't be bitter, chiquita. I'll even let you keep the plushie if you behave," he responded, letting out a small chuckle. "Kid has a point, y'know?" You respond, letting out a laugh of your own. Miguel playfully rolled his eyes and bent down to tickle Gabriella, her giggles filling up the mostly empty arcade room.

The three of you went to try out a couple games and you teamed up with Gabriella after she'd asked you to. the two of you had lost against Miguel in the hockey game and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle as he saw the frowns on your faces. "What was unfair about this game, Gabi?" He asked her, his voice taking on a slightly teasing tone. "You're the only unfair part, papi. You're just too good," she grumbled, running off to go play whack a mole. You and Miguel headed towards the car games and even though he could hardly fit on the motorcycle, it was still an enjoyable activity for the both of you.

Miguel handed her the My Little Pony plushie that he'd claimed to get for himself after he won the basketball game, a bright smile on Gabriella’s face as you all walked out of the arcade. "Did you enjoy yourself, nena?" Miguel asked Gabriella, the kid practically beaming as she held the Pinkie Pie plushie. "I did, thank you for letting me meet your girlfriend papi," she replied, and you didn't have the heart to tell her that you weren't Miguel’s girlfriend yet so you stayed quiet. "Thanks for not telling her that we're not dating. She's been really understanding about the divorce but she doesn't quite grasp the concept of the talking stage," he spoke up after gabi fell asleep in the back seat, your eyes drifting from the window to him. "You don't have to thank me for doing the bare minimum, Miguel. I like your kid and i don't wanna see her upset," you assured him, holding his hand that wasn't on the steering wheel.

For the first time since you and Miguel had been intertwined with each other, he brought you over to his place. he carried a sleeping Gabriella inside, taking her with such ease to her room and you couldn't help but look around at the decorations. At the scattered books on the shelves, a combination of some peer-reviewed science journals and kid's stories. You felt like for the first time you'd caught a glimpse of who Miguel was behind that exterior that he put on and you wanted to learn as much as you could. He came back to the living room, wrapping his around your waist as he leaned his head in the crook of your neck. "Ready for bed, chula?"

Miguel didn't try to initiate anything sexual and neither did you, but that didn't stop the two of you from clashing tongues after you guys changed into your pajamas. You'd missed the way he tasted on your tongue, the way he kissed you like he was dying of thirst and you were the only source of water. The two of you eventually came to a stop when a knock was heard on the door, Gabriella standing there with her pinkie pie plushie. "Can I sleep with you guys?" She asked, rubbing her eyes since she was still half asleep. Miguel nodded, making some space in between you two to let her lay down. As you fell asleep that night with your arms wrapped around Gabriella, you couldn't help but feel grateful that Miguel and his little girl had welcomed you to be a part of their family.

@m4dyy @ginnysculture

[linkspooky]

GREAT TEACHER, GOJO

For my final commentary on chapter 236, I thought I'd talk about this panel the starter of a million flame wars on twitter dot com. The big controversy is Nanami stating that Gojo fought only for himself without mentioning his students which a lot of people thought was a last minute reversal on Gojo's character, or character regression.

I'm not going to call anyone stupid, or say if you have good teacher Gojo headcanons you're wrong. However, I'd like to point out that Gojo's always been more complicated than most shonen mentors. He's not Kakashi, and he's not Aizawa, and I'd argue the fact that he's not the standard "I'd die to protect my students" mentor we see in shonen manga is what makes him interesting.

The Springtime of Youth

Jujutsu Kaisen is a shonen jump manga that is very aware of the other manga that are running in the same magazine and uses that awareness to play with audience expectations.

To put it simply if you don't want to use words like Deconstruction - if you're reading Jujutsu Kaisen then things are probably not going to go the way you expect them. It's not Naruto, it's not My Hero Academia, it's a little bit like Bleach except characters actually die.

If you expect things to go one way in Jujutsu Kaisen, then you're going to be thrown a curveball. To name some examples briefly before diving into Gojo.

Yuji Itadori is a normal boy protagonist suddenly dragged into the world of the supernatural.

However, everything goes wrong from there. Jujutsu Sorcerers are not heroes. Yuji is told that much from the beginning by Megumi within the first thirteen chapters. The world of Jujutsu Sorcery is not a good place to be, Yuji is initially excited to be a sorcerer and to be a part of this world and then learns that lesson fast. I mean, imagine if Deku was accepted to UA, and then he immediately learned that students at the school die on the regular and all the adults are either terrible selfish people, or if they're not they die too like Nanami because being selfless means sticking your neck out for someone else.

Yuji's not really special in the narrative. He's just a kid who swallowed a finger. He doesn't have a secret technique. We're hundreds of chapters in and he's still just punching people. If he's cornered in a fight he doesn't unlock a secret technique either, he just loses.

Yuji has a superpowered evil side, like the nine tailed fox, or Hollow Ichigo except it's not really his super powered evil side. It's an evil parasite attached to his soul with a will of its ownt hat will manipualte him. Hollow Ichigo and the Kyuubi can escape temporarily and there's usually no consequence. Sukuna escapes twice, the first time he nearly kills Megumi, the second time he kills thousands.

Yuji is kind of like a main character who is not a main character.

If you still believe he's the main character, then you can agree he's punished for thinking he's the main character and therefore things are going to be easy, because nothing is ever easy in Jujutsu Kaisen.

Megumi is a riff on the chosen one. He's supposed to be the Gojo Satoru of his generation, born with the strongest technique that ca even surpass the limitless and he's nowhere near the level he's supposed to be. This is because Megumi has been continually failed by every adult figure all his life, starting with his father who sold him, then Gojo the man who SAVED* him techically but with a big asterisk that he needed to become his student and do jobs for Jujutsu High School otherwise Gojo would just let the Zen'in take him or let them starve I guess. Megumi has no adult figures to rely on, and has been given very little freedom about who or what he wants to be in his life, and therefore he's a very passive, repressed individual who's riddled with insecurities. Megumi doesn't want to be the strongest like Gojo, or like many hero / rival characters in shonen manga. Megumi doesn't even know what he wants to be, because he's never been given any choice in life.

If you don't think Megumi's a deconstruction of any sort of character type, look at those posts on twitter that are like "Look at the black haired depressed shonen boys" and then look at Megumi, he's never actually like any of these boys because he's much deeper and probably closer to being the main character than Yuji is.

Then we get to Gojo who is very unlike all the other mentors in shonen manga.

If Yuji and Megumi are both riffs on a main character, a hero in a world so cynical he's not allowed to play hero and actively punished for it, and a chosen one who doesn't want to be the chosen one then you have Gojo as the mentor who's nothing like the classic mentor.

The problem with mentor characters in fiction is that number one they die a lot (spoiler warning Obi Wan Kenobi dies in Star Wars just so you know) and number two they're not usually the most complex character in the cast.

What is the mentor there for?

To Mentor (duh.)

What this means is they are usually a fully formed adult who can teach a lesson to the main character, who in shonen manga is typically a teenager.

I say they're usually less interesting because stories are about characters changing, or characters learning lessons. A teacher presumably already has learned his lesson. They are usually at the end of their journey and not the beginning, that's why they can offer wisdom to the main characters. They're not usually their own separate characters because of this - a narrative doesn't have time to waste on a character that's not going to change.

Jung had a term for this character, it's called the Wise Old Man.

In Jungian analytical psychology, senex is the specific term used in association with this archetype. Examples of the senex archetype in a positive form include the wise old man or wizard. In the individuation process, the archetype of the Wise old man was late to emerge, and seen as an indication of the Self. 'If an individual has wrestled seriously enough and long enough with the anima (or animus) problem...the unconscious again changes its dominant character and appears in a new symbolic form...as a masculine initiator and guardian, a wise old man, a spirit of nature, and so forth'.

The role of the wise man archetype is to help other people along with their ego development, because usually they are already fully developed individuals.

Obi Wan is the most typical of typical mentors, and he dies in Star Wars because after he finishes teaching Luke he has nothing to do. This is Luke's Hero's Journey. Obi Wan's already happened offscreen, he's at the end of his journey there's no room for change or growth in him because his story purpose is to exist to advise Luke and to do that he needs to be a fully grown adult figure.

The subversion to this when the mentor has their own agenda (Gandalf), or the mentor is as flawed as the main characters themselves and so therefore he has something to learn.

Gojo is kind of a combination of both, like Gandalf he is the mysterious but seemingly all powerful wizard (er... or rather sorcerer) with his own agenda, and he's also practically the fourth member of the main cast who are otherwise all teenagers. In fact, Gojo spells out his agenda in the same panels that everyone uses to constantly assert that Gojo is a good teacher who only wants to protect his students.

He wants to make the Jujutsu World a better place (good) which is why he is raising students so he can turn them into his political allies to make a regime change (hidden agenda).

It's a means justifies the end type scenario. In Gojo's mind the means (raising kids as tools in support of his political agenda) justifies the ends (a better jujutsu world for those children). His motivation is still the same. This is what I think people most often get confused about with Gojo's character. I think he is one hundred percent genuine about wanting a better world.

"I have a dream, I want to reset this crappy Jujutsu World" is his motivation, but not his means. He uses his students as a means to achieve that end. Even if it's purportedly for their sake, he's still using them. I don't even think this is subtext it's text, both Megumi and Yuji call themselves cogs.

"But senpai, what's your function...?"

You could say in this case that the ends don't justify the means. Is Gojo really protecting these kid's youth, if Yuji and Megumi are going around calling themselves cog and acting like they don't matter in the grand scheme of things? In fact the narrative is inviting you to question if Gojo's ends justify his means.

Gojo's ideals can be one hundred percent real, but he can also pick faulty ways of choosing those ideals that fail to live up to them. In fact most people fall short of ideals, that's why they're called ideals. Gojo is taking these kids in because they have strong potential as sorcerers and he wants to recruit them, that's his hidden agenda. It's confirmed in databooks in Yuji and Yuta's case, and even if you don't trust databooks as canon then look at how he treats Megumi.

Megumi is explicitly Gojo's student, not his son. He only intervened in Megumi's situation on the caveat that Megumi work for him. Presumably, if Megumi didn't want to be a sorcerer and just wanted to be a normal kid, Gojo would have either let the Zen'in have him or do nothing. The option of just calling child services and getting someone to foster Megumi until he was older didn't even seem to cross Gojo's mind. There's the help he gives (Food money, rent, protection from the Zen'in) and then the hidden agenda (Don't work for the Zen'in who are my political rivals, you're my student now).

Yet at the same time Gojo is shown going to find Megumi after Geto's defection, probably because of the words he said to Yaga "You can only save those who want to be saved," when he realized it was too late for Geto. Was he intervening earlier for Megumi because he learned from being too late with Geto? Did he think Megumi needed guidance, or did he think Megumi needed protection in his youth so the Jujutsu World wouldn't corrupt him like it did Geto, or did he think he just needed to make it so Megumi was strong so he wouldn't fall behind him because Geto fell so far behind him once Gojo became the strongest. There's ambiguity there, because the hidden agenda is you know... Hidden. That's what I mean with Gojo though, you can look at him from multiple angles, he's not just (I love my students I'd die for them) because that character would only have one purpose in the narrative and that'd be being the perfect mentor who teaches them all the right lessons.

Gojo's not like other mentors, and in fact he's a commentary on the mentors that everyone is always comparing him to and expecting him to be like.

Literally everyone who reads Naruto has the exact same response, "I hate how the manga never talks about how it's a bad thing to send these child soldiers into war, and nobody breaks the cycle."

There are a lot of people unhappy about the same thing in My Hero Academia, "Why does nobody talk about how wrong it is that the adults make these high school students fight on the battlefield."

Well there you go. That's Gojo. His dream is to make it so Jujutsu Society is a place where teenagers can survive until adulthood. His method of doing so is to... raise those teenagers to be stronger than the previous generation, but you know still letting them be child soldiers on the battlefield just stronger ones. He does this because if he's working within the system the his two choices are raise a group of people who can age out and replace the old regime, or just kill everyone at the top.

Everyone complains about how no one talks about the child soldiers in Naruto or My Hero Academia, but here you go, we have a manga that is centered around how messed up it is to send high school students to continually fight these curses before they even turn eighteen. Gojo's sending these kids out there still even if he wants to change things, and it's supposed to be a little messed up and also a contradiction to what his ideals are supposed to be.

Because in My Hero Academia you have characters like Aizawa and Kakashi who are "I will die for my students" but then they just send those teens out to fight in a war, and seem totally fine with that. It's a hole in the writing, but this time it's done on purpose, to ask why these adults are always comfortable sending teenagers out to fight for them?

Jujutsu Kaisen provides two answers, number one the system is inherently corrupt and it sees the youth as cogs because the system is rooted in traditions that keep the elderly in power. Number two, in Gojo's case at least this is exactly what it was like for him growing up as a child. Gojo is just repeating with his students what was done to him, subconsciously.

The reason Nanami said this, and then repeated it in this most recent chapter is Gojo was born to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. Being a Jujutsu Sorcerer is a highly deadly occupation for everyone else, except for Gojo. Not only that but because he's so good at it, and he's so lauded for it he's built his entire identity around it. Nanami's not just saying that Gojo is selfish, he's also saying that Gojo thinks being a sorcerer is a good thing. It is the end all, be all of Gojo's existence.

He doesn't want to make it so sorcerers don't have to fight, or make it so all cursed energy is gone for the world like Yuki Tsukumo, his dream is actually kind of limited in scope he doesn't want the school days of his students to be destroyed by the outside world the way it was for him and Geto.

Gojo looks at the symptoms and not the cause. Geto defected, Haibara died, Yaga wasn't really able to do much for his students in both scenarios. Gojo deduced it was because the elders and regressive policies were holding people back in favor of keeping the regime in charge (correct) and that because of that the sorcerers in Gojo's high school years just weren't strong enough to keep up (this is just what Gojo thinks).

His words to Megumi are encouraging him to be strong so he won't get left behind, which as I speculated above might imply Gojo thinks that part of what went wrong with Geto was that he simply wasn't strong enough to keep up with Gojo or stay on his level. If not then he still encourages Megumi to get strong before everything else, he's not taking care of these kids emotional needs, he's pushing them to get stronger because in Gojo's mind that's the be all end all solution to every problem.

"Nanami's line was not saying that Gojo doesn't care about children, it's saying that "You live for Jujutsu." It is the lens through which Gojo sees everything, and so therefore he doesn't think of breaking kids out of the Jujutsu World, just making it a place that's slightly more safe for them. Gojo's ego is so strong that he only ever sees things from his point of view, being a sorcerer was fun for him, his high school days were the happiest time in his life before they got ruined by outside forces.

He's trying to protect those days for his children, but he's not arguing against the existence of an institution like Jujutsu High in the first place. He's not saying the teenagers should never be sent out on missions, he's saying we need to make the teens stronger. If they're stronger than they won't die (that's probably true but they'll be even safer if they don't have to go on missions in the first place).

Now we have a reason! Why do Aizawa and Kakashi send out child soldiers into the battlefield if their goal is to protect their students? Because it's a shonen manga and the main characters are all teenagers.

Why does Gojo send out teenagers to fight for him if he wants to protect them, well I just explained it.

In fact, the entire purpose of Nanami in the story is to give us a character who explicitly treats children like they are children and not miniature adults. Who acknowledges that this is emotionally hard for children to deal with and they shouldn't have to do that.

Nanami's lines of "I'm an adult you're a child" and "Being a child is not a bad thing." would not have the weight they carry if they weren't so different from the way that every other adult in the story (including Gojo) treats children.

Nanami and Gojo have the same goal of making being a Jujutsu Sorcerer easier for children, but Nanami practices what he preaches. He tells Yuji to stand back and that he doesn't need to fight if he sees an enemy that's too strong, to let the adult on scene handle things first.

When he sees that Yuji is disturbed by the idea of killing former humans that Mahito had changed with his technique, he consoles him. He knows that Yuji is a sensitive kid and tries to spare him as much of that grief as possible. When he leaves Yuji behind he tells him explicitly that he's the adult in this situation, he shouldn't be forcing a child to help carry that burden if it's not necessary.

He also explicitly tells Yuji that being strong or jumping into life threatening situations =/= as growing up. Nanami is a character aware that the problem isn't that the children are not strong enough, but that too much responsibility is being thrown on these children. That there is a difference between what children and adults are emotionally capable of. Gojo doesn't see that difference because he reached enlightenment as seventeen. He even explicitly chose Nanami because Gojo knew he wasn't good at that stuff.

Nanami was not saying that Gojo doesn't care about children, Nanami was saying Gojo lives to be a sorcerer, Gojo who loves sorcery doesn't understand why being a sorcerer is too much of an emotional burden on a child. He just doesn't. He literally says his students are flowers.

Now, here's the kicker. Nanami dies.

Nanami wanted Yuji to not take on too much responsibility, and he died leaving Yuji with more responsibility than he could ever carry. Nanami failed in his goal, despite the fact he is the most responsible and well-meaning adult in the story who treats children like they're children.

The reason he dies is because this is what happens to people like Nanami in Jujutsu Society. The whole of society is built to condition people into being cogs and Nanami who's just one person can't overcome it on his own. I can write a whole meta on how Nanami's way of dealing with children is way better than Gojo's and yet they do essentially the same thing, throw way too much responsibility onto Yuji even though he's just a kid. They're both too ingrained in the system to make any sweeping changes, and that's why the child soldiers keep on child soldiering.

Gojo as a Character

The second reason as eluded above that Gojo is not meant to be read as a perfect teacher, or even a good one really is because he's the fourth main character of the cast. If you are a main character, then you need a flaw, and an arc where you either improve upon that flaw or you succumb to it in tragic fashion.

Gojo's not the perfect adult mentor, because he's kind of in the same place as the kids themselves. I think there's a reason we never learn anything about Gojo's backstory, we know nothing about his parents, the Gojo clan, because those details aren't as relevant. The most important thing about Gojo is the three years he spent at high school, because that was the only time he felt like a person, and also because he is trapped there mentally.

There's a reason that Gojo's dying dream is him imagining everyone reset to seventeen years old, because that was where the clock stopped for him in his youth, and that was where all of his regrets as an adult come from. His motivation to help teenagers today only comes from his own youth being ruined, and the adults in his life failing to protect him.

It's very likely that Gojo who lives for Jujutsu probably would never have realized the problems in his current society, if his youth wasn't ruined by those same adults he's now fighting against.

The reason most mentor figures in fiction are not main characters is because as adults they don't really need to grow up anymore. The obvious solution is that you just need your mentor character to just fail to be an adult in some glaring way.

To show how Gojo falls short as an adult, especially in regards to these children and how he treats them is to drag him down from all powerful, all knowing wizard, and make him struggle with the rest of the main cast. Gojo is not a positive adult figure in these kids lives despite having the best of intentions, because he's not really an adult.

I guess if you were already the best and strongest person in the world at seventeen, smarter and more capable than all the adults around you, you wouldn't really feel the need to grow up. Coupled with the fact that you are alienated from other people and do not relate to them on a personal level that's not going to help with your identity formation.

I mean I constantly compare Gojo to Superman, but to be fair to Gojo instead of bullying him like I usually do Clark Kent was raised by parents who raised a boy not a superman, and who constantly tell him that he's just a normal person, his powers don't make him great, it's his heart.

Nanami says that Gojo only fights for himself that ""You don't wield Jujutsu to protect something, you use it solely to for your own sake. What a weirdo" it's likely Gojo only fights for himself because he's never ben told that's he's more than just the six-eyes and more than just the limitless.

The best way to make a mentor a part of the cast, is to make them through some way or another have failed to grow up properly in their youth and therefore they need to do it while the story is taking place. We know how Gojo failed, his springtime of youth ended early, it ended the day he couldn't stop Geto from leaving, the day he can be the strongest sorcerer ever and still fail because sorcerer society is too corrupt for one person to handle alone. We also know he didn't really grow up past this point, because he still thinks the solution is to make people be stronger. Why does he not do anything about Geto for 11 years? In story terms he's basically suspended in time unable to grow past Geto. Kenjaku literally uses the trauma from his youth and the memories that seeing Geto alive would provoke in Gojo again, to trap him because he knew it would make him freeze up. Gojo is frozen in the past, he failed to grow up in story terms and must now grow up while the main story itself is taking place along with the children he's trying to raise.

This is how you make a mentor interesting. You have to make them flawed in some way that makes it worth having them onscreen, because a perfect mentor only serves one purpose to teach a main character and then he's gone.

Dazai Osamu from Bungo Stray Dogs is a character that's almost as massively popular as Gojo. Similiarly, he is a teenage genius who found trouble relating to other people who is now as an adult attempting to mentor two children.

However, Dazai's faults as a mentor are made much more explicit.

Dazai suddenly punched Akutagawa in the face, preventing him from finishing his sentence. Akutagawa flew back onto the ground, his head bouncing off the stone flooring with a thud. "Perhaps I made it look like I wanted to hear excuses. Sorry for the misudnerstanding," Dazai said while rubbing his knuckles. "Urg..." Akutagawa moaned. He'd hit his head so hard that he couldn't even stagger to his feet. "Give me your gun," Dazai ordered one of his men. The subordinate was hesitant but nonetheless handed over his weapon. Next, Dazai removed the magaine from the automatic pistol, took out all but three bullets, then put the magazine back in. He immediately pointed the gun at Akutagawa, who was still on the ground. "I have this friend who's supporting several orphans all on his own, you see," he continued his weapon still drawn and aimed at the boy. "AKutagawa I'm sure Odasaku would've been patient enough to give you the guidance you needed had he been the one who'd found you on the brink of starvation right in the slums. That would have been the 'right' thing to do. But 'righteousness' doesn't take very kindly to me. And there's only one thing people like me do to useless subordinates." Dazai mercilessly pulled the trigger the moment he finished his sentence.

(Don't worry, Akutagawa lived). Dazai is a character who had a troublesome youth he never grew up from. He was too smart for the world as a kid, and because of that joined up with the mafia because he wanted to feel like he was more connected to life and other people by getting closer to death (weird dazai logic I know) and was the best of the best at it, but it only drove him further away from people. He makes one friend, and loses that friend similiar to Gojo. Just like Gojo too, that friend is the one who gives him his purpose as an adult that drives him to mentor young people.

"Odasaku.. What should I do?" "Be on the side that saves people," Odasaku replied, "If both sides are the same, then choose to become a good person. Save the weak, protect the orphaned. You might not see a great difference between right and wrong, but... saving others is something just a bit more wonderful."

Is this not what Nanami said just in different words. Odasaku tells Dazai point blank, I know you're selfish, I know that you don't really have any concept of good or evil but you can choose to save others anyway.

Isn't this what Gojo does?

He is selfish. He doesn't really consider the morality or his actions or get hung up on the idea of protecting the weak like Nanami or Geto do, but he still does go out of his way to live for the ideal of saving children.

Both Gojo and Dazai are characters who are struggling with this ideal of saving the children, because while their ideals are good they themselves as people are morally gray. Adding onto that, they're also children and a good deal of their backstory is devoted to showing why they never really grew out of the mindset that they held as children.

The story doesn't call them horrible monsters for it, it's just saying that they need to grow up or face the consequences of not growing up.

"I have one regret," I said. "I never got to say good-bye to my friend. He was always there for me as 'just a friend.' He was bored of this world and always waited for death to come for him." "That man was in search of a place to die just like me?" "No, not exactly," I answered. "I thought you were similiar to Dazai at first, rushing into battle and wishing for death without even considering the value of your own life. But he's different. He's sharp-witted with a mind like a steel trap. And he's just a child - a sobbing child abandoned in the darkness of a world far emptier of the world we're seeing." He was too smart for his own good. THat was why he was always alone. The reason why ANgo and I were able to be by his side was that we understood the solitude that surrounded him, and we never stepped inside it no matter how close we stood. But in that moment, I kind of regretted not stepping in and invading a little.

Does that sound like the narrative is condemning Dazai for being who he is? No, it's Dazai's best friend offering empathy and understanding for how lonely it must be, and how if Dazai made real connections with people then he could have a chance of growing up like everyone else. That's what the narrative challenges Dazai to do while empathizing with why it's harder for him to and why he's still trapped in his youth, because to take care of children you need to be an adult yourself. Otherwise if you're a child, and I'm a child, then nobody's driving the plane.

Rupert Giles from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is another mentor who faces the same moral dilemna that Gojo does. In fact his entire character revolves around the fact he knows deep down he's sending a kid to her early grave.

Buffy is the Chosen One TM. One girl in all the world is chosen to fight the vampires. Much like sorcerer society, there is an entire bureaucracy dedicated to identifying the chosen slayer and then raising her up and guiding her as a weapon to be used against the threat of vampires and demons.

The watchers are all adults. The slayer is a teenage girl. The slayer slays. The watchers watch. Just like in Jujutsu Kaisen, there is a necessity for the Slayer to exist, because the alternative is just letting vampires eat people. Yet even if the slayer needs to exist, at the end of the day a bunch of adult men are sending a teenage girl to fight for them.

All Slayers die young. All of them without an exception. No matter how good of a mentor is, no matter how much he cares about her, Buffy is going to die one day, and Giles is going to watch. Because that's what the watcher does, they watch. Sending her on missions means Buffy's in danger, not sending her means innocent people are in danger.

It's a scenario that's pretty much like Gojo's, and the narrative of Buffy makes it explicit that Giles really can't be a father figure to bufy in this scenario. A father would have to choose to put their child above the world and keep them safe, not send them out straight into danger.

It is a choice that Giles makes over and over again. He is always her watcher and never her father. There's a season 3 episode where Giles literally drugs Buffy as a part of a test to prove she is "worthy" of being a slayer. A test that deliberately puts her in harms way that he complies with - because the system told him to. A choice to be her watcher and act according to what the council of watchers wanted and not what Buffy wanted. A choice that shatters the illusion that Buffy had of him, showing her that Giles is only there to teach her to be a Slayer, not to take her to the iceapades or buy ice cream with her.

In this scenario Gojo is very much like Giles as no matter how much he may personally like these kids, he is not their father, and there is only so much he can do for them when he's still feeding them into the same system. Giles loves Buffy, Giles wants to protect Buffy, Giles is a part of the system that exploits Buffy. Giles is an adult asking Buffy to risk her life to save the world.

Gojo goes out of his way to recruit Megumi, Yuji, and Yuta among others. Gojo still doesn't let them be anything other than sorcerers, and as sorcerers they're still guaranteed to one day die and probably die young. Gojo wants to revolutionize the system he is, but he still sends out his students to do missions as part of that system. He's not letting them escape it, he's just making them be stronger sorcerers.

Not only is Gojo not a father figure to Megumi, he is exploiting him more or less. The option of Megumi not being a sorcerer isn't on the table. No matter how well-intentioned he may be, or how good his ideals are he's still an adult telling a child to make a sacrifice for the world.

So, there are two character conflicts with two different mentors that both reflect Gojo. Gojo cannot grow up because he's still trapped in the tragedy of his youth. He himself is not an adult, for various reasons (lack of connection to other people, trauma in his youth) he's egocentric like a child but there are children in his life who need him to be.

Gojo also cannot be a proper adult, because he is part of a system that exploits children. We see what the system does to proper adults like Nanami, he shows us just how much well-intentioned adults struggle to help kids under sorcerer society so how about Gojo who thinks being a sorcerer is really fun. A proper adult would never send kids on those missions, they'd find some way to shield them but Gojo cannot do that. Because sorcerers are short staffed and innocent people will die if he doesn't. Because Gojo isn't the sorcer-king of Jujtusu Society and is working within it to affect change. There are reasons, but still Gojo is failing to live up to his desire to protect children because he's not doing what a responsible adult should do in this situation.

Gojo's failures are two-fold, and yet it's because of those failures that he was a main character who got as much special plot attention as he did. If Gojo was a perfect teacher he wouldn't be a character. After all, we relate to the struggles of other human beings we see onscreen in television and in movies so why would we care about a perfect character?

Gojo has a lot more to say about teachers in shonen manga, and also about childhood vs. adulthood as a bad teacher struggling to be a good one, then a teacher who's already perfect. Nanami said those lines because he wanted us to understand the audience that this is who Gojo is, he is a selfish and egotistical person who nonetheless was trying to do good things.

[roosterforme]

The Curveball Part 1 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob started coaching a tee ball team with Bradley, he was surprised to find how much he enjoyed it. But the last thing he expected was to fall in love with Molly, the beautiful and exciting aunt of one of the players on the team. Bob is hooked after one look at her, but he's afraid that he could never be enough.

Warnings: Fluff, eventually 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story accompanies Batting Practice!)

Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 and @teacupsandtopgun for the beautiful banners!

The first time Bob saw Molly, he almost tripped over his own feet. She was laughing, the beautiful sound carrying across the field as she walked with her nephew, Everett. When she looked up and met Bob's eyes, her smile grew. 

"Hi, Coach Bob!" Everett called out with a wave of his hand. He was a sweet kid, one of Bob's favorites from the Tiny Eagles tee ball team.

And then Bob's lips parted in awe as Molly raised her hand to wave as well. "Hey there, Coach Bob." And then she winked at him as her teasing voice filled his ears and made his heart thud. 

The closer she got, the more stunning she looked, and her eyes remained on his. He was staring. He realized that much. But he supposed it didn't matter if he made a fool of himself, because there was no way she'd be looking at him for much longer anyway. 

Molly looked a lot like her sister, and Bob started blushing profusely at that thought. Because Bradley definitely had a thing for Everett's mom. The "Team Mom". Bob liked Molly's sister plenty, but he never had a hard time looking away from her. He never once thought about how the shape of her body looked like it would fit nicely with his, snuggled up on the couch. 

"Bob. Hey, Bob. Robert. Coach Bob!"

"What?!" Bob asked, suddenly broken free from the spell Molly managed to put him under from twenty feet away. Bradley was waving a hand in his direction and snapping his fingers.

"You okay? You're not listening to me."

"I'm fine," Bob mumbled, stealing another quick glance her way as she knelt in front of Everett and helped him change his shoes. 

But Bob knew he was in trouble, because Bradley could tell exactly who he was looking at. And the smirk the other man gave him had Bob keeping his eyes to himself for the rest of tee ball practice.

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

The second time Bob saw Molly was much, much worse. She was wearing a little sundress. And this time he really did trip over his own feet. Bob watched as she bent to hug her nephew, and the way the fabric of the front of her dress met her body erased all normal thoughts from his mind. They were replaced with thoughts of Molly and her dress on Bob's bed. And on Bob's couch. And on Bob's bathroom floor. And in the bed of Bob's truck.

It was mortifying, feeling this attracted to a woman he'd seen twice and had never talked to. And likely never would talk to. But then she looked up at him as he adjusted his cap, and her smile was too much when it was aimed right at him like that. She probably had a boyfriend. She probably had ten boyfriends. Maybe a hundred. Ones that undoubtedly worshipped the ground she walked on. 

Oh no. She was walking closer. Bob panicked. He blew his whistle to start practice, even though it was five minutes too early. The parents were looking at him, confused. Bradley turned to him and asked, "It's time? Already?"

"Yep," Bob said, walking briskly away from Molly and picking up one of the balls. "Let's get started."

But then it got even worse. After practice, Bradley offered to give Everett a piggyback ride up to Molly's car. And this time, when she looked at him, Bob just started walking toward her. Like he was in some sort of trance. And the closer he got to her, the more she smiled. Like she already knew he was thinking about her collection of boyfriends and wanting to become one of them. 

"Hey, Coach Bob," she said, and he shivered. 

"Hi," he managed a little awkwardly. "Are you Everett's aunt?"

"Molly," she replied without hesitation, holding out her hand. He took it in his bigger one, and then she was in his personal space. He had to let go before he started sweating. 

"Nice to meet you," he mumbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bradley pick Everett up, giving him and Molly plenty of space. But Bob was feeling like his only lifeline had been yanked away. 

"So, how long have you been coaching tee ball?" Molly asked, and Bob fell into step next to her as she walked toward her car.

"Oh, this is my first season." That was an easy question. He wasn't so sure he'd be able to answer anything past a first grade comprehension level right now, and that was sad, because he had a master's degree in aeronautics. 

"What got you into it?" she asked, looking at him with a smile. "You have kids of your own?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. Bob liked kids. He loved them. But he'd never been serious enough with anyone to even bring up the possibility of having his own. "My niece, Piper, is on the team, and she's autistic. She's more comfortable when she's around people who are familiar to her, so I'm kind of doing this for my sister."

Now she was looking at him like he had just saved a cat from a tree and helped an old lady cross the street at the same time. "That's so sweet," she gushed, and Bob stood a little taller. Sweet was in his wheelhouse. If Molly liked sweet, then maybe Bob stood a chance. "Everett talks about Piper all the time. I think my sister wants them to have a playdate."

Bob briefly wondered if he could sneak in and take Piper in place of his sister, just in the hope that maybe Molly would be there too. 

"What do you do when you're not being Coach Bob?" she asked before he had to think of something intelligent to say. Bob could hear Bradley and Everett laughing somewhere behind him as he slowly walked with Molly. 

"I'm a naval aviator," he said, always unsure about how to talk about work. "A weapons systems officer. I guess when I'm not Coach Bob, I'm Lieutenant Floyd." 

Molly bit her lip and looked up at him, and now he could only think about her mouth. "So you have three names. Coach Bob, Uncle Bob, and Lieutenant Floyd. Which one do you prefer?"

His mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow. The way she was looking at him like he was interesting and attractive made him blurt out what he was thinking. "I would answer to any of them if you were the one saying it." He would also like to answer to Molly's boyfriend, at least in his fantasies. 

"Okay, Uncle Bob," she said with a bright laugh, and he laughed too. "This is my car." She unlocked a blue Honda, and Bob opened the driver's door for her. 

When he noticed that Bradley and Everett were still messing around in the grass, Bob asked, "Do you like baseball?"

"I like men in baseball pants," Molly said matter-of-factly. And now Bob was definitely sweating, standing there in his white baseball pants while she looked up at him with the most innocent gaze. 

He could tell he was blushing as he adjusted his glasses and looked at the ground. But Molly saved him from having to respond when she asked, "I take it you like baseball? Or do you only dig tee ball?"

"Oh, I love baseball. I play centerfield in a recreational league at work," he said, meeting her eyes again.

Molly's lips parted in slow motion, and Bob started to feel a little dizzy as she asked, "Does that mean you wear the pants all the time?"

He swallowed hard, unable to formulate a sensible sentence. "Uh..." He managed to pull it together as her eyes dipped down his body like she was impressed by what she saw. "All summer."

"God bless June, July and August," she muttered, and Bob just knew he was dreaming now. This wasn't real. "What are the main differences between tee ball and baseball?" she asked standing a little closer to him as Bradley finally made it up to the car with Everett. 

"Well, the field is bigger," Bob said, fighting the urge to run his finger along her full lower lip. "And, my bat is bigger, too," he added, and a wide smile broke out on her face. 

Bradley snorted, and then Bob realized what he had said. He started to panic. Molly's eyes dipped down to the front of Bob's snug, white pants, and he thought he was probably going to die.

But she grinned at him and said, "I'll bet it is, Bob."

Bradley finished buckling Everett in, closed the car door and casually said, "Bob's bat is actually the biggest size allowed, according to league regulations. Have a great night, Molly. See you later, Bob."

And then he was strolling toward his Bronco, leaving Bob with Molly. Bob was ready to have a panic attack, but she was just laughing like she was really enjoying this. 

"I need to go into witness protection now," he said softly, shaking his head in mortification.

Molly laughed harder, and then Bob's whole body lit up as she placed her hand on his abs and patted him. "Oh, Lieutenant Floyd, you are adorable," she said, smiling up at him and letting her hand drop to her side. "I need to get Ev home, but thanks for walking us to the car. And thanks for the laugh and the baseball pants."

Her eyes glittered with amusement as she climbed into her car, and Bob mumbled some sort of goodbye as he gently closed the door for her. She and Everett both waved as they drove away, and Bob stared after the blue car until it was out of sight. 

"Bob!" Bradley called from his open window. Bob sighed, really not wanting to go over there, but if he didn't, Bradley would just become unrelenting. 

"What's up?" Bob asked, leaning against the side of the Bronco and trying to act natural. But he could tell he was blushing while Bradley smirked. "I noticed Molly when she came to practice last time, too. Are you going to make fun of me for having a crush on her?"

Bradley started laughing. "Not at all. She's really nice. And Everett said his Aunt Molly is single."

"Is she really?" Bob asked softly as a grin spread across his face. This information was absolutely shocking. He'd never have believed it. But he could trust Bradley and Everett on this one. 

"Yep. The kid is a wealth of information."

"Wow," Bob mumbled, turning and heading toward his truck. Then it really dawned on him. Molly had flirted with him.

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

Bob's thoughts were consumed by Molly. Her sundress. Her laugh. Her blue car. Her hand on his body.

Once again, his crush on her was pretty ridiculous. One conversation. They'd had one conversation, and Bob was head over heels for her. Every game day and every evening at practice, he crossed his fingers that she would show up again. But it had been a bit since he had seen her, and he was feeling a little disheartened. 

But Bob could see how Bradley lit up every time he was around Molly's sister, so he had a hard time begrudging his friend and co-coach that level of happiness. 

After the game on Saturday, the team was still undefeated, and Bob was doing a little recap with Bradley. 

"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."

Bob nodded, really proud of the two of them. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."

Bradley smiled at Everett and his mom. "I'm having fun."

Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"

"You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"

Bob sucked in an excited breath. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."

Bradley clapped him on the shoulder. "Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot."

"You're kidding me," Bob whispered. "You must be."

Bradley just shook his head. "Not kidding. Molly's a bit of a spitfire. You think you can handle that?"

Bob walked away without answering. Because he really, honestly wasn't sure. 

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

"Any chance you'd want to get pizza after practice on Thursday night?" Bradley asked Bob in the locker room on Tuesday afternoon.

Bob shrugged. "Sure." He tried to watch what he ate, but a few slices of pizza would be okay.

"Great. Ev and Team Mom are going, too. So is Molly."

Bob dropped his deodorant onto the floor. "Molly's going?"

Bradley grunted as he got dressed. "Yeah. Don't tell me you're not into her anymore. I had to work some behind the scenes magic for this."

Bob almost laughed in his face. Not into her anymore? It would be impossible to lose interest in Molly. Bob had tried to stop thinking about her, because there was just no way he'd be able to keep her interest. Even if she liked the way he looked and somehow found him funny, she'd be done with him after about a week. Two at most.

"I...am still interested," Bob said, drawing in a shaky breath and picking up his deodorant. 

"Great," Bradley said with a smile. "She can't wait to see you."

Those words echoed in Bob's head until Thursday. And by that point, he was so nervous, he wasn't sure he'd even be able to eat any pizza without getting sick. But then Molly was there. She came for tee ball practice, and she looked beautiful. Way out of his league. 

Panic was setting in again as practice ended. Molly kept looking his way, and Bob could practically feel her gaze on him. 

"Just relax," Bradley told him. "If she didn't want to see you, she wouldn't be here right now."

Bob took a steadying breath and acknowledged that Bradley was probably correct. His cheeks felt warm as he walked toward her, and he had to clear his throat twice, but he managed to get the words out. "Hi, Molly." Because once again, up close, she had him forgetting his own middle name.

"Hey, Coach Bob," Molly replied with a grin. "Wanna ride with me? I'll bring you back later to get your car." She was looking up at him expectantly. She asked him to ride to the restaurant with her. 

He just nodded, and when she turned toward the parking lot, he followed her. "Nice pants," she said over her shoulder with a smirk. Bob had worn them on purpose. And now he was smiling.

"Thanks," he said, and when he opened the driver's side door for Molly, she looked up at him, stunned.

"Wow," she whispered. "You're really a gentleman." 

And then she kissed his cheek before she sank down into the driver's seat. Bob closed the door and then floated around to the other side of the car. Soft lips. Soft, perfect lips. On his skin. On his cheek.

When he slipped in next to her, his long legs a little awkward in her small car, she was looking at his lips. Bob was either completely delusional, or Molly was attracted to him, too. She leaned in a little closer to him before pulling back and starting her car. 

Loud music blared, making Bob jump as she reached for the volume knob. "Sorry," she muttered with an apologetic look. "I don't usually have any passengers." 

Bob glanced at her backseat and saw a booster seat for Everett and several first aid kits. Then she wrapped her arm around the back of his seat while she backed out of the parking spot, leaning closer to him. Molly pulled out of the parking lot, and she was a truly terrible driver. If Bob hadn't been broken of motion sickness during flight training a decade ago, he'd probably be hanging out the window, begging for mercy. 

When he glanced her way, she looked a little nervous. He wondered why as he tried to think of something to talk about. 

"Why do you have so many first aid kits?"

Molly smiled as she said, "I'm an emergency room nurse. I'm very good at fixing up little injuries here and there. Comes in handy to have supplies with me."

Then it struck Bob that he knew next to nothing about Molly other than the fact that he was insanely attracted to her and that she loved her sister and nephew.

"Where do you work?" he asked.

"Regional," she replied. "I used to work at Midway, but um... I moved to Castle Park when my sister got divorced. Her ex fucking sucks, and I knew she was going to need a hand with Everett." 

So she was smart, selfless, giving and caring. Bob was in trouble. 

"Not that she would ever explicitly ask for help. Do you have any older siblings?"

"Two," he replied, mesmerized by the way she could talk so calmly while she drove so horribly. 

"Then you get it. They're obnoxious. Headstrong. Control freaks. But I mean, she's also my favorite person in the world. Besides Everett. God, I love that kid. Oh no, I missed the turn," she muttered, looking to her left as she switched lanes again and cut someone off. "Oops. Anyway, yeah, so I live in Castle Park now, but I used to live near the beach. Closer to you Naval officer type guys. Oof, some of them are not as sweet as you, Uncle Bob. Met a few unmentionables near Coronado. Oh okay, there's the pizza place," she said, rambling on as she pulled into the restaurant parking lot and found somewhere to park. "So yeah. That's me in a nutshell," she told him as she put the car in park and turned the key. Molly turned to face him, and her smile was too much to handle up close. "I'm a twenty nine year old orphaned Sagittarius who can provide medical care on the go. I'm terrible at cooking, I like staying up way too late, I always google the endings of movies before I watch them, and up until recently, I've had terrible taste in men. Anything else you want to know, Coach Cute Glasses?"

Bob shook his head slightly. "You're amazing." He knew he was blushing, but he didn't really care anymore. Molly called him Coach Cute Glasses. No man in the world could listen to her talk, sit this close to her, have her call his glasses cute...and not blush. It was impossible. 

Molly giggled. "It looks crowded. Let's go get a table."

Bob was instantly out of the car, and he made it to her side in time to close her door for her. She looked up at him with an expression Bob thought probably mirrored his own. "You need to stop being so sweet, Bob."

"I don't think I know how," he replied, and he could feel Molly lacing her fingers with his. 

"Well, fuck around and find out. This is your last warning, Lieutenant Floyd," she told him, gently tugging on his arm and leading him toward the front doors. "Sweet guys get phone numbers and get kissed on the lips."

Bob's head was swimming. A kiss on the lips. He wanted to be sweet. He wanted to earn that kind of reward. He reached out and pulled the restaurant door open and held it for Molly. 

"After you," he muttered, and he watched her shake her head.

"You're unbelievable," she whispered, wrapping one sure hand gently around the back of Bob's neck and guiding his lips closer to hers while she stood on her toes. "Unbelievably adorable."

Then her lips met Bob's as her body pressed against his. The kiss was too good. Perfect. He didn't touch her, but she touched him, letting her fingers slide into his hair while her other hand rested on his chest.

When Molly pulled her lips away, Bob chased them, practically begging for more. And with a smile and another soft brush of her lips against his, Bob was completely done for.

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

Bob was completely out of his depth. Molly had kissed him. Right outside of this hole in the wall pizza place which was packed with people. Now she was holding his hand again while she sweet talked the high school aged kid who was seating everyone into giving up the last table.

The kid was blushing the same color Bob probably was. "You have a party of five? That's a table for four," he muttered.

"We don't mind squeezing in," she said with a smile that would probably send that kid into heart palpitations. 

But next thing Bob knew, he was pulling out a chair for her and sliding into the seat next to her. "That was pretty smooth," he said with a laugh as the kid left the menus and walked away still blushing. 

"You liked that?" Molly asked, cocking her head to the side and looking at Bob. "I know a lot of moves, Coach Bob. All of them are smooth."

Bob's cock twitched at her words, and he had to grab a menu and pretend like he still knew how to read. 

Flirting. Flirting. He was sure he'd never mastered this skill. He didn't even know how to fake it. But Molly wasn't looking at him with annoyance when it took him probably a full minute to respond. She was just smiling softly and glancing between him and the menu in front of her.

"You know," he said softly, "you're so pretty, you don't even need to be smooth. It's very overwhelming the way you put them together."

"Bob," she gasped softly, and he finally met her eyes. "Please, Bob. I can't with how fucking sweet you are."

Molly leaned in, so close to him, and Bob thought maybe he was going to be awarded another kiss. But her soft laughter filled his ears instead. "And the baseball pants? A girl can only handle so much."

She reached out and gently adjusted his glasses before letting her hand come to rest on his shoulder. And then Bob was thankfully saved from having to think of a response, because her sister showed up with Bradley and Everett. 

"Over here!" Molly called, and she popped up out of her chair. When she sat down again, she let her hand trail down Bob's arm as she called for Everett to come sit on her lap. "Ev can take turns sitting on our laps, and I get him first!"

Bob could barely manage to make conversation with Molly sitting next to him, laughing with her nephew. He liked this too much, and he was still having a hard time thinking of something to say. Her leg was bumping his as Everett asked, "Hey, Coach Bob, do you like the Phillies, too?"

Molly turned to hear his answer, just as interested as Everett was. "I'm a Colorado Rockies fan," Bob replied, smiling at Everett. 

"No offense, but I'm happy my mom likes Coach Bradley, because the Phillies are cooler than the Rockies."

Molly was silently holding in her laughter as Everett climbed off of her lap in favor of Bradley's. "Yeah, I'm happy about that, too," she whispered to Bob, eyes playful. "Wouldn't want to have to fight my own sister."

Bob sat in shock for a moment as the pizza was dropped off at the table. He let everyone else grab for slices, waiting to go last, but Molly dropped a piece onto his plate before grabbing one for herself. 

"Thank you," Bob told her, once again distracted as she bit into her own slice. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, and Bob decided it was more satisfying to watch Molly eat a slice of pizza than to eat one himself. She kept stealing glances at him while she ate, and Bob hastily bit into his dinner. At least he didn't have to talk right now. 

But as the meal ended and the check was dropped off, Bob quickly pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He didn't mind paying for everyone as he rarely went out, but Bradley tossed his credit card across the table. "Split it," he told Bob while he returned to coloring with Everett. 

"I can get it," Molly said, frantically digging around in her purse that looked like it was full of receipts, mints and pens. 

"No," Bob said. "It's my pleasure." But Molly abandoned her purse and reached for his wallet instead.

"No, no, I can't let you pay," she groaned, leaning on his body while he kept his wallet out of her reach. "Bob!" she said, sounding scandalized. But Bob could feel her breasts pressing against his arm as she practically crawled onto his lap. She was bringing all of his feelings to the surface. She was just too exciting to be around. 

He laughed as he said, "Why don't you want me to pay? I'm happy to do it."

She eased back into her own seat and crossed her arms. "I'm not used to guys being courteous. It's doing things to me, Uncle Bob." 

It was only fair since she was doing things to him. She pouted playfully and glared at him out of the corner of his eye. Then the waitress took Bob's credit card as well as Bradley's and went to split the bill in half. 

Bob pressed his lips together and turned to Molly, saying, "You know, you could at least say thank you." Then he draped his arm across the back of Molly's chair, just waiting to see what she would say.

Molly turned to face him again, her gaze lingering on his mouth. Bradley and Everett were suddenly heading for the door, and her sister was hustling along behind them.

Bob was basically alone with Molly now, and his cock twitched as she bit her lip and said, "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd."

When she immediately stood, Bob had the fleeting thought that he should probably remain seated for another minute, because Molly was really winding him up. But when she glanced back at him as she walked away, Bob was on his feet and holding the door for her and walking along next to her back to her car. 

He wanted Molly to touch him again, but he really wasn't sure he knew how to touch her the way she would like. He was dying for another kiss, but if she expected him to do much more than that, he was going to be lost. 

Molly leaned back against her car and looked up at him in the darkness of the parking lot. Bob was a few inches away, close enough to feel her warmth as the night cooled off. 

Her voice was soft, somewhere between teasing and seductive. "Are you thinking about kissing me, Bob?"

He shivered, thinking about doing everything to her. "D-Do you want me to?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Bob figured he didn't have anything to lose by being honest right now. "Yes. I'm thinking about kissing you, Molly. How would you expect me to think about anything else?"

She moaned softly which had Bob stumbling toward her as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. Her whole body was right there, and she wasn't being shy about touching him. So he let his hands rest gently on her waist, at just the right spot that was neither too high nor too low. 

Her lips were soft on his, but when she tasted him with her tongue before nibbling his lower lip between hers, he squeezed her waist.

"Mmm." The soft hum at the back of her throat had him thinking the filthiest things, and Bob was scared she'd be able to feel him where she was snug up against him. When she nudged his glasses with her nose, she giggled against his lips. "I like your glasses."

Molly's body fit perfectly with his, and when Bob realized he had her pressed between his body and her car, he released her lips and took a step backwards. The rise and fall of her chest as she said, "I'll drive you back to your car," had him hypnotized. But Bob managed to open her door and gently close it after she was inside. He was able to make his way around to the passenger side and get in without too much effort.

"Let me see your phone," Molly said softly. Bob fumbled with it but managed to hand it to her. She entered her phone number and saved it, and Bob looked at her name there on his phone screen while she drove away from the restaurant.

He was never going to recover.

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

Omg!!! I love Bob and Molly so much! I hope you're all caught up with Batting Practice to best enjoy this fic as a dessert to round out your meal. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone when bugged me to make Molly and Bob a thing!

PART 2

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@noonenuts

@amiets2

[starry-bi-sky]

childhood friends danny and jason miscellaneous thoughts: because why not, i'm reworking ch2 because it no longer fits with the remaster of chapter 1 so i've been thinking of them, and i love talking about them. which you should totally go read the remaster because its 26k words and im very proud of it and it barely got any attention.

First off Ellie vapes. Mostly because I think its real fucking funny. The first time Danny finds out about it he gets all up in arms about it. Ellie at first thinks its because she's smoking -- which, helloooo pot meet kettle, Danny has been smoking for a lot longer than she has.

And then he throws a curveball at her and says he's upset specifically because its vaping. Like no, no. Dammit, if you're gonna fuck up your lungs you gotta do it properly, none of this cotton-candy flavored nonsense.

He plays it up for laughs and it's largely non-serious 'i can't believe you're using a vape', if only to hide the fact that he is genuinely displeased with his little sister smoking. Self-destructive behaviors and bad habits are his thing, thank you very much.

But, well, he knows he'd be a hypocrite if he told her he didn't like that she was smoking. He's aware its bad for him, but habits are hard to break and he's not particularly keen to break this one in particular.

Danny bullies her relentlessly about it whenever she vapes in front of him. Like don't be a loser, Elle, carry a carton of cigs and a lighter in your back pocket like the rest of us degenerates.

[more under the cut]

Secondly: Danny's piercings? He got the first lobe piercings as a lost bet from Sam in junior year, and they did it in her room with a needle, a small bottle of blood blossom extract, and an apple. He broke out in hives for a week after thanks to the blood blossom, but it prevented the hole from healing up :)

He got the rest done professionally at a piercing place in the Ghost Zone. He asked Johnny where to find it. Sam and Johnny (and Kitty) nearly convinced him into getting snakebites. He got an eyebrow piercing instead.

Danny's undercut is also self-done, he did it because Technus shot at him with an ectoblast and it missed hitting him, but set his hair on fire. Danny got it out pretty quickly, but it left his hair lopsided and obviously looking like it got burned by something. He went to Sam for help after the fight. He liked the way it looks so he's kept it that way since.

-

Vlad brought up Jason once(1) in a taunt during a fight, and this was after Jason disappeared from the ghost zone, and Danny very. very nearly killed him on the spot. He hasn't done it since.

Which leads into the other thing: Grief Triggers! As I call them. All Banshees have them in this au.

While all banshees are, in general, in a permanent state of grief, Grief Triggers are a specific emotional response that can cause them to spiral into a state of intense, sometimes debilitating sorrow, and most of the time causes them to start wailing.

Banshees know what their Grief Triggers are and in general tend to try and build up a form of resistance against it so that, if something occurs that happens to trigger said grief, they can at least either get away from other ghosts to let loose or have enough control over themselves that it'll take more work to send them spiraling.

As expected, Jason is Danny's grief trigger. He's built up a pretty good resistance to it so that hey, talking about him and his death is easier than when Danny was fourteen. But a little more prodding and it will trigger, especially depending on who brings him up and how. (See: Vlad)

Grief Triggers also manifest relatively the same; with the induction of an intense state of grief and sorrow, but how a banshee acts on it can sometimes vary. Again, it depends on who triggers it and how. Some of them can get,,, violent, depending on how it happens.

Rath, this au's 'Dan', is a case of a banshee being put into the grief state caused by grief triggers and... never really leaving it. Which they usually do on their own, or with help depending on the severity of it.

At the time it happened Danny was going through the worst week of his life a second time: his best friend's ghost disappeared, then his family and friends all died right in front of him, and then he was stuck with someone who wasn't helping him through that grief.

He was already in the grieving state when Vlad tore out his ghost half. As a result, Vlad only made it worse. With that fury thrown into the mix, Vlad ended up getting torn apart and nobody else was close enough with nor could they get close enough to Rath to help him come down from the wailing state.

So Rath ended up getting stuck in a perpetual negative feedback loop of absolute misery, and well... drove himself insane. The rest of the world became collateral as a result.

-

the difference between Danny and Jason lies in the fact that Jason died, while Danny is dead.

-

I'm having more thoughts on the CFAU/TMWS universe banshees, actually.

Banshees are either born in the ghost zone from ectoplasm and are ecto-entities and work as banshees as how we know of them, or they're human spirits that died mourning someone and that grief was so intense that it turned them into a banshee. They're a little more rare.

These banshees typically mourn only one person, or sometimes they follow their Realm-born counterparts and choose a family to mourn for. Typically their own.

Ember is not a banshee; human spirit banshees are always mourning another person. However, her abilities emulate certain qualities of banshees: like the beautiful singing. But in comparison to an actual banshee, Ember's voice pales.

Does this mean Danny has the better singing voice? Yeah. Ember is incensed by this.

-

If canon Danny and CFAU/TMWS Danny met, I think canon Danny would be kinda unsettled or off put by CFAU.

CFAU Danny still has some pretty core Danny traits, at least I like to think so -- his general drive to help people just out of compassion for them (even if it manifests differently at first due to trauma), his wit and humor, his fear of failing to protect his loved ones, all of those resonate with canon Danny.

However, canon Danny, as far as I can remember and as far as his wiki goes, rarely gets extremely angry or emotional. He gets irritated and he gets annoyed but him getting mad I don't think happens super often. CFAU Danny is the angrier one between Jason and Danny. It's one of the things I consider a division point between him and canon Danny as it's a result of him growing up in Crime Alley. Canon Danny is canonically shy and meek prior to becoming Phantom, CFAU Danny couldn't be -- he'd be dead already.

CFAU Danny's anger would off put canon Danny, in my opinion. His anger, his smoking, and for lack of a better term, his bloodlust would unsettle him.

Like, for example, say CFAU Danny gets transported to a canon (or canon-adjacent) Danny's universe. He's staying with canon for a little bit as they brainstorm how to get him back home, and CFAU Danny goes to school with canon if only so that he's not stuck in the house all day.

Whether they try and pass CFAU Danny off as canon's cousin or if the town already knows that he's another version of Danny, it doesn't matter. Because insert Dash.

Dash who, in CFAU Danny's world, has since learned not to fuck around with Danny or the other kids because Danny has long since asserted that he will beat his ass if he does. 'Fucking around' always predates the 'finding out', and Danny is happy to act as consequence.

(As my father told me (paraphrased) when I was a small child and full of uncontrollable anger: "there's gonna be a day where you're gonna hit someone, and they're gonna hit you back")

And canon Dash, who is used to canon Danny who kinda just takes it because it means that he won't target other people, would see CFAU Danny. He'd notice the resemblance between him and canon, immediately try and go "oh new target!", and try and bully him the same way he does to canon. And Danny "I am the consequences of your actions" CFAU Fenton, instantly throws hands.

Just, CFAU Danny is kind but he's also Gotham-raised and full of bite; he's meaner than canon is. He's more ruthless too, especially in his ghost fights. The ease of which he slips into violence would, imo, discomfort canon. CFAU and Canon would eventually get along though, they're not so different that they'd be in constant clash of each other.

(Canon Danny and Danyal Al Ghul however,,, thats another post LMAO)

[webslingingslasher]

peter is so fine i just know guys hit on him too like… everyone wants him

in my head he directs every hot guy that flirts with him to ethan & sets him up with hot guys

oh also, i can see him being like ‘no this guys way better’ when ethan goes up to someone at a party djdjdjs

yes but peter is a bit more dumb when it comes to guys flirting with him.

'hey.'

peter's chin rises as an acknowledgement. 'hey, man.' he throws back the rest of his beer, he misses the way his mouth is watched when it wraps around the bottle, and the heavy eyes on his shoulders when he leans on the counter.

'is this your frat?' peter reaches for another beer, he offers one to the guy next to him, their fingers brush, peter says nothing about it. 'yeah, all three years. are you in a house?'

he shakes his head, 'nah. not my thing, most guys in them aren't so, ah.. tolerating, you know?' peter shrugs, 'yeah, sure, man. sig is pretty cool, it's pretty tolerable.'

the guy laughs, a little too hard, his elbow bounces off peter's arm. his hand sticks out, 'eric, nice to meet you.' peter holds out his own, he's expecting a firm grip but eric is delicate. 'parker.'

'what are you majoring in, parker?' it feels like they're holding hands, it's gone on a little too long. peter pulls away first, eric bites back a smile. 'uh, physics.'

'ooh, you're smart, aren't you? that's a bit of a curveball.' peter feels a little insulted. 'are you saying that because i'm in a frat? what, that means i can't be smart? tell me, what's your major, communications?'

eric raises his hands, 'easy, tiger.' peter blinks, he thinks of you for a second. 'i just meant i didn't expect you to be a nerd under... all that.' eric tucks the corner of his bottom lip into his mouth, peter takes a small step back, he feels like he's being observed.

'graphic design, by the way. you know what, you're really handsome, i could do a quick sketch for you.' peter feels a spark, it's not everyday another guy calls him handsome.

'hey, man. you're handsome, too.' peter's had a few beers, he misses the way eric's eyes light up. peter slides a napkin over, he tears open a drawer, a pen produced.

'alright, how do you want me to pose?'

'hm, naked?' peter finds him funny, 'yeah, let me just whip it out in front of the crowd.' eric starts the scribbles, a rough outline at first. 'or we could take it to your room?'

peter pauses, eric is detailing his lips, he never knew they could look so luscious on a napkin drawing. 'what's in my room?' eric initials the sketch, it's wildly detailed for being done in a minute.

'your dick? preferably in my mouth?'

peter drops his mouth open, his hands wave back and forth. 'no! i'm so sorry, but no! i have like, a girlfriend. not gay, i mean, i love them- you- fuck, you know what i mean, but i'm not one. a gay person, i mean. but my best friend is half gay and he's really cool, like, cooler than me and the gay thing is only like a fraction why.'

eric looks off to the side, peter grabs his shoulders. 'dude, this happens to me all the time. it's no big deal, but you know who is? ethan. he's super into plants, it's like his whole thing. you like me so you'll like him. trust.'

'alright, i'll meet your friend.' peter cheers and tugs him out the kitchen by his arm, 'i promise you, dude. dick sucking will happen tonight, you're welcome.' 

[himegureisu]

Hiii! Just got home from a horrifying midterm exam. It went horrible, none of the questions were even in the lesson plan. Although it did give me an idea for this request :')

It's practically universal knowledge that Snape is a 'terror prof' (iykyk) at Hogwarts — his standards are high, he's very particular with essays and it's practically expected that every major exam, tears will be shed in and out the classroom with the amount of curveballs he throws at you.

(I'd feel like he'd be the type to have a True or False exam with choices like: True, Partially True, Partially False, False, and if none is applicable write the correct answer and all of it is situational)

He's married to the reader and they're both teachers, so they help each other on their loads. Much more efficient that way. One night after a particularly hard-hitting major exam in the semester, reader encounters tear stains and snot and a few drops of blood from a nosebleed on one of the exams (witnesses this once lol) and decided to confront him husband about it. Thank you! I hope this isn't too specific ;w;

Questions and Answers

Pairing: Severus Snape x Reader

A/N: I'm sorry you had a horrible exam day and thank you for preventing me from pulling my hair out of frustration because my Notion page was not cooperating when this request came through. I hope you enjoy this! 💖

——————————— 🪄———————————

“Severus, darling, why do your exam papers have at least two different types of fluids on them?” your fingers flip through the unfinished stack, your eyes scanning them.

This was the thirty-fifth test paper from his pile that you graded. His second-year tests were stained by a range of substances you curiously identified through a spell.

Did he truly not notice them?

“There’s a combination of either snot, sweat, tears, or,” you paused, taking one of the papers you already graded, to present to him. His dark eyes highlighted by the round reading glasses made for a rather attractive sight but focus, “On the rare occasion, blood,”

“Oh,” he simply said, looking up at you, “And?”

“Is that all you can say?” you frustratedly run a hand through your forehead as you sit on the edge of his desk causing him to stop, “What are these questions even? It’s a major exam for second years, not OWLs or NEWTs, Severus. My head hurts not only from the answers but also the questions,”

“If they can’t answer then they’re not competent enough to proceed to the…” his sentence undone by the beginning of your ramble, an attempt to explain why his methods were not feasible.

“Can you imagine the physical, mental, and emotional drain that major exams cause to students? You can reminisce on your time as one if it helps but it’s not good and then to be brought to this level of inquiry as if they were taking a mastery,” you explained, “There isn’t even a 50-50 chance to get the answer right only 25 because you decided that it would be better if there would be four very similar but distinct answers to the multiple choice questions and not a chance of redemption for those who don’t know the question if the said answer is one they needed to correct. I can better understand your students’ frustrations from this version of your exams,”

“To adjust the exam would mean that there would be a lower level of understanding…”

“That’s the point though since they’re just building the foundation of what they know for potions!” you exclaimed, “If it were a muggle game, Severus, it should be easy, medium, and then hard but your exams are hard, hard, and then hard on every level. Do you understand?”

“Yes, but…”

“Sev, imagine this,” you sit on his lap, cupping his cheeks for him to focus on you as you say, “Imagine a child, our child, a little boy or girl coming home to us in tears because of a similar test that they’d taken on that day,”

“It would be different. They would be ours,” he grumbled, pulling you in closer to bask in your warmth, “We wouldn’t teach them to be like that,”

“Sev, just imagine!” you sighed exasperatedly, his face buried beneath your chin, “Your little girl coming home in tears crying for us wanting a hug because of an awful exam day,”

His breathing was in sync with yours, trying to understand your reasoning. His imagination slowly conjures a little girl in your image. Her face was stained with big fat crocodile tears, a snot-filled nose, and books slung defeatedly on her arm. His heart tightened at the image of it, protectiveness surging from within.

No one was allowed to make either of you cry.

“Can you imagine?” you softly asked, running a hand through his hair, as he mumbled, “Yes,”

“Can you change the way your tests are written?” you silently prayed that he would, he breathed in and faced you to answer, “Fine, and you’ll help me,”

“I expect as much,” you smiled.

As you were about to get off his lap, his arms quickly pulled you back and in doing so, caused the chair to stumble a bit from the force. His nose on your hair, breaths warm, and hug unwilling to let go.

“Sev?” you glance back to see his darkened gaze, “What is it?

“Do you want children?” he asked, it wasn’t something both of you discussed in depth before, “I realized that after four years of marriage, we didn’t elaborate on our expectations on that particular topic,”

“If we’re blessed with children, then I’m happy,” you informed, tracing the contours of his face. No matter how many times you’ve seen him it’s like there’s another new thing to catalog in your mind, “If not, then I’ll be happy having you all to myself,”

“I don’t know if I want children,” he admitted, and you kissed his cheek, “We’ll get there when we get there, Sev, for now, don’t think about it,”

[1d1195]

My Friend's Toyota IV

Read the rest here: My Friend's Toyota

~6.2k words

Warnings: fluff, some angst, some 18+ escapades mentioned/described but nothing over the top, virgin reader/experienced H (semi-spoiler: you will not be reading about their first time in this one) I'm sure we all know I do 3rd POV typically, but I think this will also feel like it's rapidly switching between our characters within that lens, so just keep that in mind. Also I think this part is really... complex if you will. Think coming of age, trying to figure out life kind of stuff. It's not easy and I wrote it randomly in a way, because I don't think you can wrap all this stuff up in a neat little bow the way you expect to. There are curveballs in life and especially in sex. There are difficult conversations to be had and things that are hard to explain; this is just the way I chose to portray such a relationship. I kind of left this open-ended in a way that I could come back to it for follow-ups. I hope that doesn't detract from the story.

Sorry for the long note; here is the last part. Thank you for reading it. I hope you enjoy 💕

Harry wondered if he kissed her would his lips stick to hers.

He kind of hoped they would.

She’s not ready for the air to get colder / ‘Cause she’s so used to living on the beach down in Florida / Wanna take her to the mountains / We can take my friend’s Toyota / But the heat don’t work so when the air gets colder / I can hold ya

Harry was going to kill Mitch. When they stopped for gas, he texted him while she ran in to the station to grab some extra snacks. How come the heat isn’t working?

Whoops. I forgot about that...

Mitchell. She is FREEZING.

Sarah says it’s an excuse to snuggle.

Honestly, Harry had already thought of that. But he wanted her to be whole and warm when they made it to the cabin. It made him so anxious that he was ruining their weekend getaway before it barely started. But she returned chipper as ever, four cups of hot liquid in a little cardboard tray. He smirked, raising his eyebrows suspiciously at the copious number of drinks.

She smiled shyly. “It’ll be warm,” she shrugged.

He chuckled as she settled the drinks in the middle of the bench seat and made sure they wouldn’t spill while Harry drove. It was only another hour to the cabin. It was freezing. Truly, freezing didn’t even justify the cold temperature she was feeling. It felt like there was ice in the bottom of her shoes—she contemplated spilling one of the cups of hot chocolate she purchased into her boots just for warmth. “M’so sorry about the heat, kitten. I didn’t know.”

Despite her jaw silently chattering (she hid the sound of it from Harry by pulling her lower lip into her mouth ever so slightly) she smiled at him. “I’m fine,” she promised. Really, she was. It wasn’t like she was going to get hypothermia or anything, it was just cold. The hot liquid helped though, the cup warmed her gloved hands and melted her insides as she drank it. Harry also provided her with two warm, fuzzy blankets to snuggle under during the ride. It wasn’t too late—but winter up North anything past four PM was late. The sky was nearly black, only stars and stray wispy clouds. It didn’t help the chill in the cab of the truck. She packed an overnight bag of her regular belongings with clothes and toiletries, her backpack (because it was really hard for her to part from her schoolwork when school was in session), and plenty of jackets and sweatshirts. Harry packed about the same and all their bags were piled into the thin backseat of the cab of the truck as well. In the bed of the truck was an assortment of drinks and food items they might need as general basics when they got to the cabin. They would still need to go to the grocery store.

The prospect of playing house with her was very exciting.

Harry thought she was the cutest little ad for ski gear with a little knit headband around her ears and matching mittens. She was so pretty it made him feel dizzy. “Do you want some?” She asked, grabbing a second cup from the tray. He smiled, taking it with one hand and sipping it. He popped out the cupholder that resided within the dash and slid it in.

His mum always warned him that driving at dusk and dawn were the two hardest times to drive. Between the animals and other drivers struggling to see in the fading or growing light he wasn’t surprised.

Add in snow coming off the mountain? It was another added distraction.

But she had never seen snow. “Oh my God,” she whispered.

He smiled silently at her awed expression, keeping his eyes on the road, the wiper blades pushing the fluffy squall of flakes off the glass. She shifted in her seat edging closer to the dashboard, the seatbelt stretching to accommodate her closeness. “Is it always sparkly like that?” Her voice was reverent. Soft and warm despite how icy she must have felt. Harry was focused on not skidding on what could be an icy cold road. Maybe he should have waited until the morning to start driving but he wanted to milk every possible second of the weekend with her without interruption from anyone. A two-night, and two-and-a-half-day stay was hardly enough so he wasn’t going to lose that half a day for nothing.

“I’ve never noticed it sparkling,” he admitted. She used her teeth to pull her glove off before she reached for the windshield. With one finger on it, the heat from her finger creating a little halo of steam on the glass, her eyes scanned the fluttering snow as it fell in front of the headlights.

“It’s like glitter,” she murmured. “It’s so pretty; I don’t think I’ve ever seen something this pretty…can we stop?”

It was fortunate they were coming to a rest stop—Harry had only been to Mitch’s cabin a few times but when they travelled in from their hometown, it was a much longer journey, and the rest stop was always needed. Pulling off the highway, she got out of the car quickly. Harry followed suit, locking the vehicle and fell into step beside her. She was so bright-eyed. The chill in the air didn’t seem to bother her, although Harry was sure it had to because it almost bothered him.

There was a thin layer of snow coating the ground. If he had a measuring tape, it wouldn’t even read a millimeter. She stood still gazing upward, the fluffy flakes caught on her little headband, in her hair. They melted as they hit her face, making her cheeks spotted with a little drop of moisture.

But what had him falling further in love with her was the way they fell on her eyelashes and clung to them for a moment before turning into water again. Her cheeks pinked in the chilly air and Harry wondered if he kissed her would his lips stick to hers.

He kind of hoped they would.

Without warning, she hurried to the picnic table that was also covered in snow and laid across it, stretching her arms out and sighing deeply. “I know I’m always cold, but I do love it. It’s so much better than the heat,” she looked so gorgeous, Harry could hardly breathe. She turned her head and smiled at him. “You think I’m crazy,” she giggled.

He nodded. “I do,” he sounded so serious, but his smile was so enticing it made her stomach hurt.

“You know, this is where you would murder me,” she told him.

He snorted and shook his head at her. “Oh?”

“Yup. You kill me here, abandoned rest stop, closed for the season. No one finds me till spring. You have your nice long weekend alone.”

He rolled his eyes. “You think Allie wouldn’t hunt me down?”

“You stole my phone tell her I couldn’t be here anymore, too cold. Move back south.”

“Your parents?”

“They haven’t a clue,” she shrugged.

“No more podcasts, kitten.”

She turned her attention back to the sky, the falling flakes making her look like a literal snow angel, speckling her hair. “It’s beautiful,” her voice was so soft. Harry smiled and moved to lay beside her. She shifted, allowing space on the creaky table. He let one leg dangle off the side, propped up by the bench seat. He tried to see it the way she saw it. It had been so long since he had stopped and watched the snow fall. He knew it was beautiful. There were reasons people visited the mountains to ski and have romantic, chilly getaways. But he could hardly tear his eyes away from her to look at the beauty she saw that wasn’t her own reflection. “Do you even like snow?” She asked.

He nodded. “When I was younger,” he started. “I was the only boy,” he smiled fondly. “Mum and Gemma were adamant that I do what was proper and right. But it was more than that. I wanted t’be a gentleman t’them, y’know?” She didn’t obviously, not exactly, but she nodded. “I actually liked shoveling. Our neighbors paid me t’shovel their drives as well,” he explained. “It was so quiet. Y’can’t really tell right now,” he gestured toward the highway that had cars singing down the road to their destinations. “Snow absorbs the sound of everything else, traps it in the flakes and carries it t’the ground like s’tucking a kid into bed,” he shook his head with a smile. “S’the only way I can describe it. Felt like when Mum would carry me t’bed when I was sick,” he paused. “You must think I’m crazy,” he smiled.

She shook her head eagerly. “No,” she promised. “I mean, it’s a weird way to say no one will hear me scream when you murder me,” she shrugged and Harry laughed, rolling his eyes again. Seriousness came over her features again and she turned on her side to face him. “Tell me more,” she whispered. “It’s quiet,” she reminded him, encouraging him to continue his story. “You liked shoveling?”

He kissed the middle of her forehead and took a deep breath inhaling her perfume and the smell of her laundry detergent that mixed together to create this amazing scent that was entirely her. “My mum and Gemma did so much for me,” he explained. “I’d do anything for them. So...I like the snow a lot. S’peaceful.”

She looked back up and watched the flakes fall and land on Harry’s skin without any pattern. It made his skin dewey and somehow more beautiful. She brushed her glove thumb on his eyebrow, brushing the flakes that landed there before they froze. “It is peaceful.”

“We should go before we freeze.”

“Eager to kill me in private, I see.”

“There’s something wrong with you.”

“You picked me,” she giggled getting off the table and right as she stepped away, Harry grabbed her hand, pulled her back so she was between his legs, arms pressed to the front of his body and his arms circled around her waist.

“I’d pick you, again and again,” he promised before kissing her sweetly on the lips. Fortunately (or unfortunately, for Harry), their lips didn’t stick together.

Harry forgot how much warmth was produced to melt any hope of staying stuck to her.

*

“Can I do something?” She asked about ten minutes longer into the drive.

“Of course,” he chuckled.

She unbuckled herself, scooted to the middle seat, replacing her old spot with the warm drinks ensuring once more they wouldn’t spill while driving. She leaned toward him, her body snug against his side. His hand fell to her thigh wrapped in at least two layers and he still thought she wouldn’t have looked sexier in lingerie. Carefully, she draped her blankets across Harry’s lap as well. “This is much better,” she sighed.

Harry couldn’t have agreed more. He squeezed her thigh and kissed the top of her head without moving his gaze from the road. “Warm?” He asked.

She nodded. “Very.”

His heart was in his throat because the snow was getting a little heavier as he creeped further north to the little mountain town. Her sweet voice was going on and on about how pretty the snow was, what she was looking forward to this weekend, and how not even their upcoming finals had her in a bad mood.

It took every ounce of self-control to focus on the road and not her. When she started pointing at how fluffy the flakes were once more Harry cleared his throat. “Kitten,” his voice was soft. She could hear the warning tone. A frown graced her lips in his peripheral.

“Yeah?”

“I love your voice,” he began.

Looking away briefly she turned and nuzzled her face against his jacketed arm. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?” She asked quietly.

“God, no,” he shook his head, it seemed horrible to face forward and not look at her while he reassured her. “I’d listen t’you for hours jus’ t’hear y’read the ingredients in m’shampoo,” he promised. “But you are the most precious cargo I’ve ever driven—”

Immediately, she turned her face toward his arm, still pressed to his side. Like she was embarrassed over the notion. “That’s the sweetest—”

“—and I want t’stare at you, and talk t’you about the snow, finals, everything, love. But I want t’get you to the cabin safely. Your sweet voice is so distracting. S’not your fault at all. S’mine. I jus’ want t’look at you.”

“I’ll be quieter,” she promised, but there was a smile in her voice as she murmured quietly into his arm again.

“You’re not mad, no?”

She shook her head. “Not at all. I’ve never driven in the snow. Forgot it might be scary. Even for a veteran driver like you,” she nosed at his arm again. She let all the air escape her in a long sigh. “I’ll let you focus,” her voice wasn’t as exuberant, but Harry glanced at her briefly to see a content smile on her face. Her eyes facing forward as she admired the snowy road. Relief coursed through him that she didn’t hate him for basically telling her to shut up. Quietly she hummed to the music playing through the speakers.

Harry was a believer in some kind of heaven beyond.

But driving along a cold snowy road, with the girl of his dreams on his arm, he stopped believing.

There was no way heaven could exist if she was right beside him.

*

The cabin was the stuff of dreams. It was secluded, but honestly not in the serial killer way she kept mocking Harry about. From the little perch of land, she could see down to the town nearby. Not quite rural but not urban either. It was perfect. They stopped at the grocery store on the way in and she caught sight of an old bookstore and a little boutique that she wanted to go to tomorrow.

“I honestly hadn’t considered killing you till now, kitten,” Harry was grumbling as they carried the groceries in first, then their other bags. When Harry glanced away very briefly to check nothing was left in their cart, she paid for the groceries with a tap of her debit card.

“I knew it,” she whispered to mostly herself with a smile.

“Supposed t’be treating you,” he continued grumbling.

“Harry, you treat me literally all the time. You worked so many extra shifts this week to make up for missing the weekend ones. Just let me,” she assured him putting the perishables in the fridge and freezer. He still felt guilty, and she could see his mind spinning with ways to make up for the “atrocity.”

“D’you want anything t’eat or drink?” He asked.

“How about the pizza?” She suggested. It was quick and easy and didn’t require a lot of thought to make. It would be easy for their first night here. “I got it,” she offered, and Harry went to set up the fireplace. While he worked on the fire, she meandered around the cabin. It was warm and cozy but also extremely open. Pictures of Mitch and Harry were strewn about table surfaces. Vacations from their school days. Other pictures of whom she assumed was the rest of Mitch’s family. Sarah was even in a few, too. The décor was perfect for a cabin. Like it had been crocheted a giant sweater to sit on the walls with a variety of little inspirational ski quotes like “skiing is the next best thing to having wings.” It was toasty without the fireplace going just because it was everything a mountain cabin should be.

The beautiful stone fireplace cracked now that Harry had fed it enough firewood. It was along the back wall set between windows that let the sunlight in each morning (she wasn’t positive on that, but assumed it was built so the bedrooms wouldn’t be in direct sunlight while waking up), and the coziest looking couches she had seen. They fit the room perfectly. All they needed was a sweet, chocolate labrador to play fetch with and this could be home.

She pulled the knit headband off her head, finally warming from the heat and the fireplace. Harry brought her a glass of wine. It felt like they were real adults on a trip. Harry almost immediately stripped of his outdoor gear when they arrived, but it took a while for her southern blood to warm. Eventually she slid her coat off. Harry hung it on the back of a chair while he found plates in the cabinet and finished with the remainder of the groceries: things for the bathroom that weren’t regularly stored in the little getaway. She was inspecting the bookshelf reading the back of covers that were old and well-loved. “Anything good?”

She smiled. “I think all books are good.”

He chuckled, grabbed their overnight bags by the front door and went off to another room. Her heart pounded with the realization they were on a trip together and it wasn’t just Harry’s suite like she had gotten used to over the last month and a half.

All week she had been nervous. Allie could tell it reached a breaking point on Thursday when she was packing. Harry was at work, unaware of her troubles. She knew she was being ridiculous. Harry had been nothing but kind since she met him. But when he brought their bags to the other room, all the anxiety she had squashed down came flooding back to her.

“Are you excited?” Allie’s voice was gentle when she asked while she finished zipping her bag. All she needed were the toiletries that she would pack once she used them in the morning.

“Yes,” she murmured.

“Oh, that’s assuring,” Allie hopped onto her bed and patted the seat beside her as if it were her room. “C’mon, sweetie,” she encouraged with a sweet smile. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

She shook her head, cheeks flaming, unable to put it into words because she felt so embarrassed. Even in front of someone who was very much her best friend. “It’s nothing.”

“I’ll tickle it out of you,” she warned.

“Oh my God,” she sat beside her and looked at her hands in her lap. It was extremely quiet in her room. “I’ve never had sex,” she mumbled.

“What?!” She gasped.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she groaned. “I knew it was weird,” she covered her face with her hands.

“No, shit,” Allie put a comforting hand on her arm. “No, it’s not weird. It’s not anything,” she said reassuringly.

“Allie, Harry has definitely had sex, yes?” Allie was silent. “Right,” tears welled in her eyes. “It’s just this element of our relationship that’s so...” she shook her head. “Unequal.”

“Sweetie, Harry is not going to care about that at all.”

“I know, but I do,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I feel so...lame. So immature. How is that possible?”

“I really don’t know because you are way more mature than I am, and it’s got nothing to do with sex.”

She ignored that comment because she knew it was supposed to help but everything felt awful. Her body was overheating with shame and awkwardness she had never felt before. “What if I’m bad at it?”

Allie snorted and patted her arm again. “Impossible.”

“Allie...” she whined, tears still filling her vision. “I...” she swallowed, took a deep breath. “I think I love him. If I’m not good at it... then... I’m just a waste of his time—”

Allie shook her head immediately. “Stop, stop, stop,” she hushed. “You are not a waste of time. If you and Harry stopped seeing each other tomorrow, I would expect him to write you a thank you note for being with him for the past few months.”

“You think I’m an idiot. A prude.”

“No, of course not! I’m surprised. You’re hot as fuck, babe,” she rolled her eyes. “You didn’t have anyone you wanted to...?” she trailed off with the question lending itself to the silence.

“No,” she shook her head. “You have to understand, my parents are so in love with each other. Sometimes it’s nauseating. It’s not like I didn’t want to just get it out of the way. I wish I did. I wish I just... God, it’s so lame sounding. I just think it’s supposed to be special. It’s an important part of a relationship, but I didn’t want it to be the only thing,” her voice cracked more times than she could count. The words came out in a sad whisper. But she left the story about studying for physics in her junior year that she had told Harry unsaid. Allie nodded understandingly.

“That’s not lame, sweetie,” she promised. “There’s no right or wrong to it. It just is.”

“I literally Googled how not to be bad in bed.”

Allie laughed despite herself. “Of course you would do research.”

“Al,” she whined again.

“I’m not trying to pry, sweetie... have you... done anything precursory with Harry?” She asked.

Her face warmed and she nodded. It wasn’t every night they slept together or anything, but Harry’s fingers and tongue were no stranger to her body. Her mouth honestly ached to have him in her just as much as her body seemed to ache recently for more than what they were currently doing.

Allie sighed. “Look, I said it before, I’ll say it again. If Harry tries anything shady with you, I will cut his dick off, no questions asked. Honestly, he would probably appreciate the gesture on your behalf,” she shrugged. When she didn’t hear a flicker of laughter she continued, gentler than the previous sentence. “Sweetie, I know you love him,” it was a little weird to hear her best friend say it without the word think or feel in it the way she had said it, thought it, and voiced it out loud. “But God, if he doesn’t love you too,” she promised. “It doesn’t have to happen. I know I was a little wary of him at first, but I can tell that Harry would do anything to make you happy,” she promised. “You probably wouldn’t need to have sex with him ever if you didn’t want to.”

“I think I want to.”

“Okay, well,” Allie turned, waiting for her to look at her. Gather all the attention with focused eye contact with the utmost seriousness she had ever seen on her free-spirited friend’s face. “Until that’s an ‘I know’ you’re not to do anything you don’t want to. Do you understand? I have a mind to tell Harry myself because you’re too kind to say it.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea Allie,” she grumbled sarcastically. “Tell my boyfriend I’m too scared to go away with him because I think I’ll be bad at sex?”

Allie didn’t even flinch and the preposterousness of it all. “I literally do not care,” she shrugged.

A beat of silence ensued. “I won’t,” she mumbled. It wasn’t like Allie was wrong in her line of thinking. It did sound like something she would do to appease Harry. “I won’t,” she repeated more for herself than for Allie.

When Harry returned from putting their bags away, she was still pretending to read the back of book covers while she reminisced about the conversation she had with Allie. “I think this is where Mitch’s mum puts all the books they no longer read, kind of thing,” he explained, entering the room, and pulling her from her thoughts.

She hoped her smile wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable looking. “Yeah, some old ones here,” she affirmed and brought one of the books and her glass of wine to the sofa, she settled both on the coffee table and looked at the fire again. “This is perfect, Harry,” she smiled. Her heart felt whole, despite all the anxiety she also felt. He sighed nearly with relief.

“Good,” he fell beside her and pressed a hand to the side of her face. “M’glad,” he kissed her forehead effectively turning her insides to liquid. “Pizza’s almost ready. Did y’want t’study for a bit before we... watch a movie or something?”

Her heart felt so much gratitude for him. “Really? On a Friday night? A weekend getaway?” She wondered.

“I mean... if y’don’t want to, then of course not. But I know y’well enough t’know y’kind of want to. Because y’don’t want t’fall behind—which I do think is impossible... but I know it’ll make y’feel better t’turn your brain off tomorrow and Sunday,” he shrugged with a smile that was so easy and lovely she really believed Sarah for a moment that he wouldn’t have sex if she asked.

But there was no way she was going to ruin a romantic weekend away. “I have Monday,” she said firmly.

“Are y’sure? I really don’t mind. M’behind myself, a bit because of the extra shifts,” he explained.

Her guilt flew out of her system. “Oh, okay, if you’re sure.”

He shook his head with a smirk. “Kitten,” he cooed. “M’not gonna be upset if y’want t’study...if it’ll help y’relax and—”

“I just really don’t want you to think I’m lame,” she hurried looking away as she interrupted him.

He frowned. “M’not being a very good boyfriend if y’think m’gonna say you’re lame for wanting t’do well and get good grades,” he tugged her backpack over the back of the couch and settled it in front of her. “I don’t know why y’think m’not going t’like y’suddenly,” he pouted.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and bit her lip. “I know you like me because I’m me, but I’ve never had the best self-esteem and I know that’s not good in itself, but I do pride myself as a really hard worker. I want to do well and get good grades, but I know it’s not...” she sighed and put a hand on her forehead. “I’m not making sense,” the frustration evident in her voice.

“Kitten,” Harry’s voice was so gentle but in one word he sounded so encouraging as well. It was like magic. “I want you t’do whatever makes y’happiest; whatever makes you the most successful. M’supporting you fully. One hundred percent,” he shrugged, grabbing his own backpack and pulling out a folder of papers. “If that means we are studying for a bit, then I want t’study.”

She was lucky she didn’t shout that she loved him from the top of her lungs right then.

*

At some point, her worksheets were set aside. The pizza was gone, her wine glass and a second one drained. The fire crackled in the background while Harry kissed her so deeply, she felt it in every cell of her skin. Part of her wanted to run outside and lay in the snow just to cool off how warm she felt from having Harry’s hands all over her body, under her shirt, in her pants.

Harry’s hands slid just an inch lower. “Kitten,” he hummed. He wasn’t trying anything it was just the way his hands shifted. The memory of that afternoon. Studying for physics. It wasn’t the same, not even a little. She felt so safe with Harry and yet her brain wouldn’t turn off. The way he touched her the last few months felt different than the way he touched her then.

She ripped away from him, falling to the floor beside the couch. Before he could utter a syllable or help her back up to the sofa, she choked out a gasp of surprise. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I just don’t think—” She had a hand on her chest and Harry thought she was hyperventilating. He felt so horrible.

“Kitten,” he cooed gently reaching for her. “I’m—”

“No! Please don’t apologize, it will just make me feel even worse!” She croaked and covered her face briefly pushing the tears to either side of her cheeks. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You have been so patient, so—” she swallowed. “I’m just so stupid and I feel so horrible. I want to, I want to so bad but I don’t—”

“Oh my God,” Harry whispered. His voice was filled with shock piecing together what she thought he was going to do or say. The poor, sweet thing. “Baby,” he reached for her again.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me!” She sobbed. “It’s so stupid—I’m so stupid!”

“Kitten,” he tried once more wishing she would stop insulting herself. It only made him feel more terrible. He couldn’t imagine how she felt. “My love, please stop,” he begged very gently and grabbed her arms as softly as possible but firmly, so she stopped moving.

“I’m sorry,” she sniffled. She was even beautiful when she cried. Harry couldn’t imagine his expression. It felt like a cross between a frown and sad smile. “I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“Please stop apologizing,” he brought his hands to her cheeks and pushed her tears away. “M’not mad or disappointed with anything,” he promised.

The silence was thundering loud. Eventually, when she uttered one syllable, her voice was so quiet he almost missed it. “No?”

It felt like she punched him right in the stomach. A single word question that broke his heart. “Of course not, kitten.”

She swallowed, swiped her tears away. “Oh,” she whispered. “Then... what—”

“I was going to tell you I love you,” he smiled at her. “A lot, really. ’Ve told y’before. ‘Ve never felt this way ‘bout someone the way I feel ‘bout you. I’ve been waiting for you for...” he shook his head. “Years. The second I bumped into you. I jus’ knew. M’so in love with you. It’s been very hard t’keep it t’myself all this time. M’sorry y’thought this weekend was something t’pressure you—kitten,” he stopped abruptly, looked her in the eyes and held her gaze so she would understand the sincerity of his next words. “We could never have sex a day in our life, and I would continue t’love you as much as I did the day I met you.”

Her jaw trembled like it did on the ride in that freezing truck parked outside. “You love me?” She whispered.

“Of course I do, kitten. What’s not to love?”

I made us have homework time on a weekend getaway, I don’t like drinking from red solo cups, I’ve never been drunk in my life, I haven’t had sex with you. But she kept all these thoughts to herself. “You really love me?” She repeated.

His smile was still sad, but he chuckled ever so lightly. “Yes, baby. I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” she whispered.

His face melted into a lazy smile. “Yeah?” He asked, completely awestruck. She nodded quickly, feeling at a loss for words. The fast beating of her heart made her woozy. “You’re sure? Not jus’ saying that because y’feel bad or... I know y’said you’ve never been in love before—”

“I’m very sure,” she promised. “I think I’ve loved you since you showed me where my class was,” she looked at him nervously. Like he would somehow take it back for how she fell in love so quickly after hardly knowing him. Instead, his already gentle gaze softened even more, and he kissed her softly, his lips brushing so gently against hers. It made her mouth tingle with wanting more but she wasn’t sure she could breathe properly to tell him that. They had kissed a lot in those three months but somehow this one made her unsure—as if he suddenly made her forget how to kiss. When he pulled away, she felt an ache in her chest like she wasn’t close enough to Harry. “Again,” she whispered. He smiled and slotted his mouth back between hers kissing her, almost harder, deeper. He pulled away carefully, cupping the back of her neck. “Again,” her voice was sure, but she looked flushed, nervous.

“Kitten,” he whispered, his face a little disapproving.

“I want to,” she promised.

“Kitten,” he repeated, stronger this time. Allie had texted him the previous night and all it said was Delete this after reading: you BETTER be good to her, or I will rip your throat out without an ounce of remorse. At the time he had wondered what prompted such an aggressive message. Things with Allie had been good. He felt he had her trust after all she knew about his past relationships. Maybe that was why she felt so at ease to send him the threat. In a way he was kind of grateful for it. Like a final note that she accepted him.

Of course, Allie.

Have a great weekend 😇

He laughed at the time, the duality of her best friend’s messages. But the previous one was gone, deleted and part of him wished he could show someone (not that he would) only because it made him smile.

All of it made sense now and he was not smiling. She shook her head, shame filling her entire body and promptly appearing all over her features. “I promise, I’ll stop if I don’t want to,” she swore. “Do you not want to?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he whispered so softly she barely noticed the curse in his phrase—like he had whispered I love you again. “Of course I want you, kitten,” he promised. “But we don’t have to. M’happy t’do whatever y’want for the rest of our lives,” he vowed. “Y’told me y’wanted a relationship. I told you I waited a really long time for you,” he reminded her. “M’not worried about any progression in our relationship except making sure you’re comfortable,” he promised. “You,” he held her face between his hands. Like she was made of something rarer and more fragile than glass. It made her stomach flip, her heart hammered in her chest, and she felt so adored in that moment, it felt indescribable. “You are perfect,” he murmured. “Completely. Just want t’keep y’warm,” he smiled.

There were a hundred reasons she didn’t feel good enough for Harry. But he was warm and safe. Regardless of what anyone had to say about him. “Harry?” She asked.

“Yes, kitten?”

“Have you ever... brought anyone here?”

“Only when I drive Mitch and Sarah.”

“So this is a first?” Her voice was stronger.

Harry felt his face contort into a smile of total admiration for her. “Yes. S’a first, love.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what, kitten?”

She shook her head. “Nothing, just... thinking about how much I love you,” she promised. “It’s a lot,” she admitted. “Kind of weird I’ve dreamed and dreamed about love and after so many years without it while all my friends fell in love... It’s...freeing.”

Harry sighed, wishing he could fully articulate how much adoration he had for her. “M’never letting you go,” he murmured, kissed her, and kissed her, and kissed her,

And kissed her,

And kissed her.

*

She was wrong about the sun. It was warm in the chilly bedroom. They were dressed again, but her body was entwined with Harry’s closely. It wasn’t normal to sleep like this, but she wanted to be close. Probably closer than she was with the clothes in the way. But a winter cabin, even with heat and a fireplace, was simply too chilly.

Plus, the sun streaming through the windows seemed to be magnified, warming the bed and sheets that Harry had the pair of them snuggled under. His finger drew imaginary lines up and down her back over her shirt. He kissed her forehead and sighed. “Good morning, love,” he murmured against her hairline. “Want some French toast?” He asked. She nodded. “Y’feel okay?” He wondered. She nodded again. “Tired?”  A third nod, but a more decided one. He kissed the top of her head again. “Y’want t’stay here?” She shook her head this time.

“No m’awake.”

“Y’sound awake,” he teased.

She sighed and rolled onto her back creating a rift of coolness to spread over him. He frowned, wishing he hadn’t teased her at all as this wasn’t preferable at all. “Do we have plans for today?”

He shrugged. “Had some ideas. But no. We can do nothing all weekend if y’want,” he promised.

Turning back to him, her smile was lazy, warm, and beautiful. “We better get started then.”

“Oh?” He smirked.

“Mmm,” she flung the covers back and reached back for him with an outstretched hand.

“Hey, kitten?”

“Yes’m?”

“I love you.”

Her shy grin was enough to make him thaw in the chilly cabin. His heart leapt to his throat while he watched her drop the outstretched hand. Instead, she crawled back across the bed so she could kiss him sweetly. “I love you, too,” she whispered. Finally, they meandered out of bed and she gazed out the window over the coating of freshly fallen snow. Not quite thick as a blanket, but beautifully undisturbed in the same way. “Do you think I’ll need a thicker coat while we’re out?” She asked looking at the battle of the clouds hiding the sun now and again. Harry walked up behind her after fixing up the fireplace for the morning.

He pecked her cheek, thinking about how she told him he had never been in love before. He wondered if he had ever been in love before her. “If y’don’t, I’ll keep y’warm.”

--

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[the-nysh]

Rewatching Trigun's 98anime (subs this time, being used to the eng dub) since I was curious to note the characters' shifting pronoun usage.

For reference, Stampede Vash always uses the softer, more humble, modest, boyish 'boku' - as expected (like Trimax Vash), even after his glow up in ep12, he still regards himself the same way. While Knives (Nai) exclusively uses the harder, more assertive, masculine 'ore'...ever since he was a little baby, which immediately differentiates them apart, but is...extremely (lmao) edgy of him.

But in the 98anime? Oh my god, it's all flipped around and completely different! Which quite interestingly reveals a lot of contextual nuances to many characters, and quite frankly rewatching in Japanese trying to catch all these things only thoroughly kicked my ass throwing in so many difficult-to-understand, unexpected curveballs; I'm both shook and humbled by what I've heard!

Because 98 Knives refers to himself as 'boku' O____O;; even during his most 'villainous' lines yelling at Vash too. Him having that casual but 'polite' poised dissonance in his voice comes off extremely unnerving;;; when he speaks of horrible things thru such an 'innocent' self-perception like that. (Even Legato uses 'boku' like him! Same in Stampede.) Damn I'm disturbed. He and Vash notably both used 'boku' when they were kids, but Knives in particular never really stopped saying that from their childhoods, so that says a lot about him. (His "did you just shoot me [boku]!?" comes off very uncannily childlike. No wonder Vash freaked out in guilt.)

But 98 Vash? Whoa, he requires a whole damn essay flips around ALL the time, interchangeably using BOTH! :O Often switching pronouns between 'ore' & 'boku' within the same episode, or even as quickly as every other sentence, even towards the same person. Depending on the immediate context/topic of what he's saying and the emphasis on how he's saying it. Via all his posturing, which 'persona' he switches into, his familiarity/humbleness/honesty/trust--even hostility towards certain people, and his mood's silly vs seriousness levels. Often reflective of how determined/confrontational/casual he is vs being walled off (masking) to openly repentant, lost or distressed too - but not always! It's Extremely inconsistent fascinating but confusing!!! Because there's no....fixed 'rules' to his usage. For ex he'll often use 'ore' casually within his own internal monologues to his more bombastic public self-introductions, or even when he's at his most serious in private moments about grave matters, like settling his past during his scar scene with Meryl. Even Eriks!Vash still uses 'ore' when confessing his guilt to Wolfwood about the Fifth Moon! So there feels to be a general preference for using 'ore' when he (internally and externally, both in casual and serious contexts) needs to show his 'determination' - aka being the man (the ideal 'Vash'?) he wants to become.

But then he'll flip around using 'boku' for some of his most exasperatingly fake ✨playful✨ bits when he's kidding and messing around in mock courtesy (bonus: he even uses 'watashi' as a joke for his ridiculously long 'formal' name introduction to Wolfwood).....AND 'boku' will be used for his most sincere humble (polite) conversations back with family members he knows at Home, and when he connects back to his childhood with Rem in his dreams. The Diablo ep is a good example: he uses 'ore' throughout the ep until he reverts to 'boku' after speaking to Rem deciding not to kill, and that humbling shift, like to that of a lost younger boy, makes so much sense. The shift happens again when Eriks!Vash thinks about Rem feeling just as lost: "what should I [boku] do?" And after the tragic incident at Home when he's depressed and masking himself behind his glasses, while quietly reflecting to Wolfwood with a reproachful, "Everyone who touches me [boku] dies." ...Before immediately changing back to 'ore' in the next sentence firming his resolve to face Knives.

But in general it really depends and you have to listen hard (pay close attention) to hear how much contextual teasing, sincerity, irony, genuine respect, or...humbling self-reproach and self-depreciation he uses. Indicative towards how much (or how poorly) he internally regards himself and how he externally presents himself to others, because it changes. All the time. His personal pronouns aren't fixed! ...Basically, I'm just as confused as Meryl (and it really makes narrative sense why she's so confused by him), not knowing which 'persona' is the real him! x'D

...Oh but a really good moment, in ep24 when Meryl pleads at him to be honest with her for once about all the tragedies, he uses 'boku' explaining everything to her about Knives. That's....really good. :O Like umm...him using 'ore' before with her (in the scar scene) kind of erected a subtle barrier when he refused to elaborate further, but using 'boku' so sincerely for her request.....like it..extends her the same humble level of courtesy/trust he'd use towards the 'family' he loves back at Home (+Rem)....but it's so loaded, cause he's being honest but still...distant telling her why he's better off alone. :')) Man...(the aaangst) Oooooh, but then ep25 is very telling too, cause he's mentally lost for the whole ep, always using 'boku' so anguished and self-deprecatingly....until Meryl saves him and he gives her his softest genuine 'boku' yet, after he recovers back to himself donning the red coat again, thanking and assuring her he'll be alright. :'D (Hooray~) Before internally switching back to 'ore' on his final quest setting out alone for Knives. Ep26: he still keeps that distinct assertive 'ore' in front of Knives "I [ore] will survive!" and 'boku' for Rem: "I [boku] will continue to believe in you, but will look to my own [jibun] words for guidance." :')) (Bonus: 'jibun' is added when he philosophically thinks in terms of 'oneself'/'myself' from now on.)

Bonus nuance: while younger Vash may have dependently followed Knives' lead around--back when they both used 'boku' together, older (current) Vash--using 'ore' with him, feels like he's grown to assume the role as the more independent, responsible older brother now, when he finally understands how to put Rem's last words to 'take care of Knives' into practice. :'))

So tl;dr: Vash tends to have a casual leaning preference for using 'ore' in most situations both private and public, but especially for whenever he asserts his determination involving Knives with a confrontational edge. 'Boku' is used exclusively (politely, with genuine deference & care) towards extended family members he loves (like Rem, Brad, Doc, and eventually.....Meryl; using the softest 'boku' towards her I've ever heard. ;.;) And for whenever he humbles himself in distress, feeling lost in turmoil or self-reproach. But it's not set in stone! Since both pronouns can be used sincerely or ironically in jest, for whenever he's feeling silly or playing a bit (donning a mask), easily switching depending on presentation or context too. 98 Vash simply does what he wants! While Meryl screams in confused exasperation!

As for 98 Meryl, she often uses the book-standard, more formal/professional 'watashi' when introducing herself (Stampede Meryl too), and her speech patterns are typically very polite and pleasant to listen to (with many lovely 'desu-wa' sentence finishers.) ...Until she changes to the informal, more feminine 'atashi.' Ex: when screaming at Milly to let her go (to Vash) as the city blew up during the Fifth Moon incident. The raw sincerity in her voice for that change is so...🥺 of her. Note, cause most other girls - from Rem, Milly, younger kids like Lina, to older (but youthful) grandma characters all informally use 'atashi.' So for Meryl to drop her usual formalities when her honest feelings come out ("I [atashi] need to go there!" - to the epicenter where Vash is) means a lot. :')) ...Ah! Cause she slips to 'atashi' again in ep25, in front of Vash (while he uses 'boku' at his most mentally lost and openly wounded state) at his bedside. o///o Oh my... Using 'atashi' again while crying to Milly in regret that she couldn't confess anything yet to Vash on his sendoff. So yes, Meryl's feminine 'atashi' side shows whenever she expresses her honest feelings. :'3

Now 98 Wolfwood is a special case, cause he speaks primarily in Kansai dialect, which is extremely hard for me to understand what he's saying in modified/shortened slang all the time. (Compared to say, Meryl who speaks very cleanly and polite.) I've heard him use 'ore' when offering kids food, the more rural/casual form 'oira' when confessing his turmoil to Milly at his most vulnerable, 'uchi' when talking about 'our orphanage,' 'washi' (the 'old man' form of watashi) when speaking in more formal/aged terms of 'God', to the slang form 'wai' (he casually prefers this one a lot, and Stampede Wolfwood uses 'wai' too, esp when introducing himself to new people, for most of the few eps he's even in, and it makes him sound like...way older than he actually is?) to even 'jibun' when talking about himself with distance in flashbacks. The impression he gives off is like that of someone who's come from a rural/street kid (orphan) background...but who speaks like a chill elder now?? who's aged far too soon for his years. That's my best interpretation of what's happening. (His slang 'wai' even slurs to sound like 'oira,' almost like 'wai-ra' sometimes; gah it's really hard for me to discern, I'm sorry.) Bonus: he teasingly calls Milly 'my honey' in english, while she playfully answers him back with the pronounced 'a-na-ta' (dear), so they def have an inside thing going on. Bottom line, he's very complicated *bangs head on desk* and his accent is too unfamiliar/beyond my meager course level to fully grasp! :'D

To sum up (to the best of my hearing comprehension):

Stampede Vash: always boku, modest and unassuming towards everyone 98 Vash: BOTH ore & boku; not fixed. Casual preference for ore vs more humble courtesy using boku, but it's extremely context/mood/persona dependent, since he can mask & switch for jokes. Has a serious confrontational/determined edge using ore vs Knives--as if Vash becomes the older brother here, but always reserves the softer boku towards Rem and the found family he loves Stampede Knives: always ore, ever since he was a baby; so much edge 98 Knives: boku, coming off unnervingly childlike vs Vash's ore Meryl (both): watashi, but changes to atashi (98) when her honest feelings towards Vash show Wolfwood (both, Kansai dialect): primarily wai, but can use many other forms Legato (both): boku Roberto: ore Milly: atashi, but can mask using watashi when she's not fine Rem: atashi (98) & watashi (Stampede) Stampede Luida: watashi, but atashi when casual with teen Vash Brad (both): ore Dr. Conrad: watashi Stampede Elendira: watashi Stampede Zazie: boku

Now besides the animes, since Trimax is a whole other overwhelming complicated beast, and since I don't have access to check (nor would I even be able to easily read/understand) the Japanese raws, I'd be VERY interested in someone's investigation and breakdown into the manga's pronouns, especially for Trimax Vash, since I've heard that beyond 'boku,' he shifts and evolves throughout his journey too, possibly ending on a very soft wizened, matured 'watashi' that I'd love to hear more!

[ndjournal]

How’s your dream going?

it’s been a while since i’ve heard about you!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

Dearest anon, my dream is well and peaceful although I am indifferent to it either way now which is what makes it peaceful and effortless :)

I considered writing a post on my learnings but was a bit hesitant because it's just another version of an experience that's already been spoken/written about many times before and there's nothing particularly special about this one. However, since you've asked, I will share some things about my journey and what has helped me personally which might help other Vanessas/versions of me out there. Please only take what resonates, my journey is not a blueprint for all journeys however I have noticed some commonalities in truth seekers.

The biggest thing was quite literally giving up entirely. I actually wrote a post on giving up about 3 months ago when I was earlier into this 'journey' and I still agree of course with what I wrote however I would write it differently if I were to write it now (it would be a more expanded version); perhaps I will write a part 2 although this answer here can sort of be taken as a part 2. You see, this Vanessa's life was quite comfortable in general so when she started on the ND path, while she was very determined to "get it", I wasn't motivated or entirely willing to give her up. We spent a lot of time letting go of concepts and limitations (and that definitely helped later on so I'm not saying it's not helpful, do what resonates for you!) and Vanessa/the ego was becoming subtler and subtler but it was still something I held onto. There was still identification with not much motivation to give it up entirely - sure there had been desire and interest to 'materialize' things but when we gave that up too, there wasn't anything. I was still lost in Maya despite the dream not being all that captivating or enjoyable.

Then quite literally life circumstances all of a sudden threw some major curveballs and Vanessa was terrified despite all that she had learned - it felt like all knowledge had suddenly disappeared and she had absolutely nothing to hold onto. After trying various things and going round in circles trying to keep everything at bay, the only thing left that really resonated was to quite literally give up on everything - it felt like there was no other option for peace but to do so because she was so mentally exhausted and drained from caring about every single thing that it was so much more appealing to be nothing and no one, to just BE… oh just the thought of being nothing and no one was freeing.

4dbarbie's words here gave Vanessa a lot of strength and direction (although her answer there was for a new identity, I did not use it for that as it was exhausting to even think of a new identity. I just wanted to be nothing and no one, that was most peaceful)

Give UP: It is what it is and 'you' can't do anything about it. Just let it all happen, we all die one day and it's over anyway. Worrying, fearing, doubting, striving, searching, desiring - how tiring, you would much rather sleep a hundred years. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Expect nothing from your body or mind. Let them do whatever they want, cease caring. Literally dgaf, if life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. (Ever had a bully? They get bored when you stop reacting and they leave you alone. They may increase the strength of their punches at first, but so what? You're already getting bullied... you can do nothing about it but cease caring and let it happen.)

And also this from 4dbarbie helped me understand the indifference that I had to embody:

I did not fake a lack of disturbance, I just let things happen to 'me' painful or not, I did not try not to react, I just didn't get involved emotionally with what was going on because I was tired, completely, of both desiring and being scared. The emotions didn't interest me anymore, I became indifferent to whatever was happening, neutral. If 'I' got what I wanted, whatever, if I didn't whatever again. I didn't try to change anything, the events just passed without leaving a 'footprint', all the bad/unwanted things had no reverberations anymore, it was like they never existed. Then there comes the idea of: what if they never actually did? And you fiddle and play with that a little. It's just play because you don't really care anymore, it's a real feeling of being unaffected, it's not manufactured because you aren't trying to get anything, not even 'realization', you want nothing anymore. This detached feeling, of needing nothing - it brings a lot of power, try to at least reach that and worry about the rest later.

She knew she had to stop trying to fight life but she was afraid of what would happen if she did stop trying. Eventually she got exhausted and had nothing left. Then no longer wanting/searching/trying to make happen any particular outcome or caring anymore, just pure indifference being in the present moment with no conditions/labels/problems is what gave her peace and then things just starting to ease up on their own. Things even happening on their own with just a random thought without any particular input.

I realized all the practices that Vanessa did before the curveballs had a 'doing' intention, a 'purpose' behind them (quieting the mind, self-realization, dropping beliefs etc) while afterwards, the same 'practices' were engaged again but with the intention of just being with no labels, no agenda, just being nothing and no one and this made all the difference - when you are no longer doing anything - you are not the doer/body/ego/mind; you're just being with no identification and no longer care about anything. And the indifference here is not forced or pretend like she used to have before as a defense mechanism, its genuine true indifference and full acceptance of everything (see the second 4dbarbie excerpt above - understanding and experiencing this subtle difference will help a lot).

The reality only comes when you give up yourself, when you give up your ego, when you give up your needs, your wants, trying to make something happen, desires, when you give up trying to become self-realized, when you just give up. - Robert Adams

Life is just a giant mirror of your Self. When you stop fighting it, it will stop too. But you have to be the one to initiate it. It takes courage and faith for sure to take that leap.

It has no choice but to die. What you take to be reality is the same, take away your identification and it soon ceases to be. - 4dbarbie

It can be easy to get lost in the dream again if you get caught up in the 'materialization' aspect - it's all still a dream even if forms change. Lester also talked about this in No Attachments, No Aversions:

I knew these things were not to be latched on to. I knew that if I got interested in them, I'd stop progressing. I had seen by this time that this world is a mentation - a dream. So to get interested in the dream again through interest in powers would trap me back into what I was wanting to get out of. - Lester Levenson

Also remember these things happen on their own, it's not the ego that's doing any of this and Self doesn't 'do' - Self is just effortlessly being. There's no 'doing' involved. If there's effort, it's ego as Lester said.

Now when I read my past blog posts or read Lester or Robert, there's an entirely new level of understanding and resonance with their words from before. This excerpt from Silence of the Hearts speaks more on what I was experiencing as well.

Let go of everything. Do not hold on. Stand naked before God, without any crutches, without anything to hold on to. There comes a time in everyone’s life when they have to stand naked before God. By standing naked I mean no scripture, no fancy words, no preconceived ideas, no spiritual intellectual knowledge. - Robert Adams

Perhaps without those curveballs, Vanessa would have continued to live in the illusion like an NPC in a Sims game until something like that happened to her and forced her to completely give up on everything and stand naked before God (her Self).

A day will come when you will long for the ending of the dream with all your heart and mind, and be willing to pay any price; the price will be dispassion and detachment and the loss of interest in the dream itself. Once you have seen that you are dreaming, you shall wake up. - Nisargadatta Maharaj

Now I know all happens by itself and I am just witness to it all. To all Vanessas out there, I know you got this. Follow your heart and trust in what resonates! And remember not to compare yourself to others, we are all One. Everything will be okay 💜💜💜