#and again—hes someone willing to give up his privilege to do the right thing (support the weak and unwanted)

[seaglassdinosaur]

I love Thuggory he exists to be cool and hype up Hiccup, everyone goes ‘wow, Thuggory, he’s everything a Viking’s son should be, he’s strong, charismatic, and leaderly’ and he immediately turns around and says ‘OKAY EVERYONE, WE’RE LISTENING TO HICCUP NOW.’

[fan-a-tink]

Young Royals S3 thoughts

EP4 

Simon tearing up on the bus... I have no words to describe painful it is to watch this. 

That hug. Was so overdue. I’m so glad Wille is there. And him saying „I’m so glad to see you.“ - yes please tell Simon how much he is loved!

Sara and Felice looking at each other like the star-crossed lovers they are… 

Vincent, why do you have to be like that? This is literally the last thing Simon needs right now. Just, PLEASE, mind your own business!

„You’re so fucking pathetic“ - couldn’t have said it better. And finally, Wille defending Simon as well!

„It’s really a privilege… not a punishment.“ He’s becoming more and more like his mother…

Oh my god they write letters to their future selves? I do that every year - that is sooooo cool :) I really want to know what Simon and Wille wrote… and is it foreshadowing a time-jump? 

Oh August is down bad… He’s trying so so hard to reconnect with Sara, and it is kind of adorable… I just wish she’d let someone in (not necessarily August) and could talk to someone and get better… 

„The Queen is too unwell to attend the announcement.“ Oh oh oh oh oh…. I really really really hope she’ll get better. Why does everyone only ever get worse? 

When Linda suggested moving to Gothenburg, Jan-Olof was like ‚yes, please do!‘ 🙄 this old white man really thinks that would resolve things? 

I feel like if Farima had had this talk with Simon and Linda earlier, a lot of the plot of the first three episodes would not have happened. Simon could have avoided the brunt of the online hate perhaps.. Why did no one feel like it might be a good idea to prepare him for what was coming and give him some advice on how best to navigate being so suddenly in the public eye? Like, they seriously trusted Wille to communicate all of that, a sixteen-year old known for being quite impulsive? Simon needs real support from the system, and he was just left to struggle along without it for three episodes… Why did there need to be a stone thrown into his home for anyone to take any action and give any support?!?!?!

Micke apologising for hugging Sara without asking first… it’s small steps, but in the right direction :))

Simon deleting his online profile is like he is deleting himself. I feel so sad for him. And he is just so quiet and resigned. This is not right…

„Serious, traditional, smart and strong young man“ hahahahaaaaaa have you met Wille? 

„To love whoever you want is a human right.“ SIMON FOR PRESIDENT!! 

But I also get that Wille does not want to be a spokesperson. 

That discussion makes me really sad. Like, I do get where Wille is coming from. But Simon just quietly resigning himself to not arguing more because he wants to keep the peace, once again staying silent when he should have the space to express himself - that’s not right….

Love that Vincent has not enough authority to make people listen to him. 

„They’ve been mocking me all day. And now they want to demonstrate? And talking about solidarity….“ I agree, Simon, I agree. And they are protesting because they want to keep their privileges, while Simon was at a protest for worker’s rights. That’s two fundamentally different issues really shows all that’s problematic about Hillerska in a nutshell. 

No, Wille, don’t join them!

That scene between Simon and Sara really shows that I think a lot between them just needs to be talked about. Like I’m not saying it will resolve their issues, but at least if they were to talk about it together, they might make a little bit of progress? But I guess it’s only episode four and their reconciliation has to wait little longer for plot reasons 😤

It’s so painful how Simon has just become so quiet. Even when he’s singing, he’s kind of lost his voice… This is the worst!!!! Siiiimoooooon!! 

300 crowns for a lollipop??!?!

„That sounds like an eating disorder.“ !!!!!!!!!!! I sometimes feel like Simon is the only sane person in this school. 

No Vincent, YOU are becoming more boring every day. Your bullying is pathetic. Leave August alone. 

„Klumpig“ is my new favourite Swedish word :)) 

Even Simon’s smiles are quiet now… 

„I never want to hurt you, Simon.“ Look into those eyes. 

That scene with them by the window is beautiful… But I feel like their peace is so fragile. 

The students are just proving that the inspection was necessary. Like this is exactly the kind of behaviour that they wanted to put a stop to, calling them traitors for leaving, stealing someone’s trousers and chanting ‚Show your dick for Hillerska!‘ - just proves once more that you don’t need alcohol for a group dynamic to become toxic.

And NO girls, you don’t get to be mad at Felice for whatever she said or didn’t say during the inspection. And thank you, Maddie, for defending her!  

Ok, I’ve changed my mind, I want to have the shot of them waking up next to each other tattooed :) They are so soft… 💜

It must have smelled sooo bad in that room that morning… 😂

Felice and Sara finally talking. Hallelujah! 

Felice is a stronger person than I am because I would have forgiven Sara there and then. Scratch that, I have forgiven her long ago. I mean, if you just try to see it from her perspective… There must be some way for them to forgive and move on, right? Hello? Is anyone hearing this? 

Simon worrying what to gift Wille for his birthday… „Does he like to take baths?“ Hahahahahahaaaaa this is so accurate, like this is exactly how helpful my advice to my friends was when I was a teenager…. :)) 

„And just do whatever they say.“ Oh Simon… I completely understand that you just want to stay safe and protect yourself. Like you should. But please also listen to your friends and don’t let go of who you are… 

I really love the friendship these three have. I am so glad Simon has them…

Oh no, they’re talking about Erik. Here we go. This is going to be hard. 

Malte is acting the shit out of that scene!!! Incredible. But so is Edvin, like there is so much going on in his face without him even saying anything….

„And Erik was there. Erik was there.“

[hughiecampbelle]

(sorry i already reblogged the post with my ship stuff! I didn’t realize it was supposed to be an ask!)

I’m Davy (she/her)! I am 5’0 with brown curly hair, blue eyes and freckles. I am a Ravenclaw and INTP. I mostly like guys. I love acting, singing, reading and writing. I am AuDHD and have a really hard time in social situations. I wear headphones most places that I go. I love analog horror, watching musicals, and stuffed animals. I am trying to learn how to cook, and get better in social situations. My favorite season is winter and my favorite holiday is Christmas. My type usually is intelligent but not afraid to be goofy and affectionate. My love language is physical touch. I love to infodump about my special interests

Feel free to ship me with any male character!

Hi my love! I ship you with: Hughie Campbell!!! He loves your height. Hughie is pretty tall. It's not a requirement that he's with someone shorter than him, it just happens that he's taller than most people in general. He loves the fact that you're so short. It makes his day when you can't reach something he can or when you're wearing his pajamas and they're comically too long/big on you. He makes a lot of short jokes that get your friends laughing too, especially Frenchie. He also loves when you sing. In the shower, along with the radio, or just humming to yourself without realizing, lost in your work. Your voice is sweet and melodic and he can't get enough of it. You love how he's grown into himself. Hughie is still awfully awkward and gangly and might say the wrong thing from time to time, but he's also stronger than he was when you first met. He's willing to stand up to Butcher and make it known that just because he's lost his humanity didn't give the rest of The Boys the right to do so, too. He believes in doing the right thing and fighting the good fight no matter how scared you might be. He's a lot louder with his beliefs and isn't afraid to voice them even if they go against the grain. You've really seen how he's become more vocal and comfortable with himself. It's a privilege to see. Your relationship is easy. You and Hughie are both affectionate, caring, good people. Sure, you make mistakes and mess up and mis-communicate, but for the most part you're open about everything. You talk things through. You learn one another's signs of discomfort and stress and fear and worry. When you're in a social situation you're nervous about or struggling with, Hughie can swoop in and offer support, realizing this might be hard for you. When you see everything sort of hitting him (what happened at Teks party, losing his dad, his mom coming back into his life so suddenly) you're there with hugs and a shoulder to cry on. Your first date is to see a local musical. Hughie isn't the biggest fan of musicals, but, depending on the story, he can find enjoyment. What's even more important is that he knows you love them and they make you happy. He spends the whole time watching you rather than the actors and singers. It just makes you so excited, sitting through it is worth it. Later he admits not only are musicals not his thing, he doesn't remember any of the story-line or plot. He just knows at what times and songs you got the biggest smile from. You tell him you could have done something else, but Hughie shrugs it off. He wanted you to be happy, that's all. Relationship Headcanon: Hughie knows how much Christmas means to you so, every year, he goes all out. Lights, decorations, stockings, food, everything is out of a movie or book. Christmas was special to him as a kid, but the older he got, the more magic the holiday lost. Since being with you, there's been more magic. It makes him feel like a little kid again unwrapping his Tek Knight action figure and Homelander slippers. Not just Christmas, but winter in general. Attempting to ice skate and going for hot cocoa, going to the tree lighting ceremony, walking around the city with all its decorations. Every year when this time comes around you know he's going to put in even more effort to make it as special as possible.

Hope you like it my love!!! Xoxoxo💜💜💜

SHIPS ARE CLOSED

[justagalwhowrites]

Oh.

Oh.

Oh my god.

I truly didn’t know what would shake out with Savvy, if they’d find her or not, who would find her, when, where, how. This was so good. So perfect. The fact that Ellie was with Joel surely put Savvy at ease. He knew just what to say. The fact that truly Ellie was integral since she clocked the snare in the first place.

I have read SO MANY Pedro fan give in the last year. Like a gross amount. Three have made me cry, and I’m not a crier. This chapter, this moment was one. For the record the other two were also yours 🤣

THANK YOU and holy CRAP I want to keep reading!! I know it can feel weird but please consider setting up a Kofi or something. Maybe you can’t use the money but then maybe donate it to a cause you love bc you deserve SOME kind of compensation for the professional quality gut punch beautifully crafted work you deliver, and with some an incredible speed at that 😭❤️

(ALSO I was very concerned knowing Bambi was going to tentatively get with someone else and even knowing it wasn’t going to work I was so scared. But I think it was important she doesn’t just get back with him. She’s been so hesitant and guarded it makes sense her incredibly strong feelings be tested and dang if the proof isn’t in the raspberries that Joel is it for her.)

Hi Bestie!!!!!

I really tried to keep Savvy's fate a mystery so we really felt some of how Bambi's been feeling all this time! But Joel immediately going into girl dad mode with her just... I love him. I love him so much. And Ellie being there helped so much, both because she saw the snare but also because she was basically a walking green flag. This young girl is OK with this man - clearly willing to kill for this man - so he's trustworthy. She was integral to getting Savvy home. Joel's baby saved Bambi's baby and I love them for it.

OMG I'm so happy my writing has made you feel so deeply! These characters and stories mean so much to me and the fact that they have an impact on others is so extraordinary to me. I love storytelling so much, that we can all experience these things together and share in the grief and the love and the passion and the joy.

You're not the first to mention a Ko-Fi and I haven't set one up simply because I genuinely don't need the money? In a lot of ways, I've lucked into a fairly comfortable life (not trying to downplay the fact that I've worked and struggled but I've had a lot of privilege and a lot of luck) and have everything I need, most things I want and a nice savings account. But the donation thing is a nice idea! So I think I'll turn on the tip function here on Tumblr and see what happens with the intent of donating what I get from it. That being said, if something I've written moves you to the point that you'd like to pay me for it, please consider tipping another author who hasn't been as lucky as I have financially. I'm sure they would really appreciate it and I'd love to support other authors vicariously!

And AHH yes I totally get you! I wanted Julie to happen for a few reasons? Mostly so Bambi wasn't just singularly focused on Joel. I don't think that suits who she is as a person and I don't think it would be good for her to do that, either. But I also wanted her to really understand that yes, Joel is it for her. She's never felt this way about anyone else and she never will again and moving beyond that - especially when he's RIGHT THERE - isn't going to happen. She needs to learn how to accept and forgive his past and trust who he is now otherwise she's going to be stuck living without the kind of love she knows is out there. She really knows that now and it's putting her in the right place to really process what happened with Joel. They're so close! They really are!

Thank you so so much for reading and for your kind words, Bestie!! Love you!!

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞/𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐚.

Sweet smiles, long walks and picturesque sun sets become common place with Childe as soon as you meet him. Word in Liyue travels fast and once he heard the stories about the odd traveler he can’t help but to be at least a little bit interested. He’s quick on his feet, already making his way towards the newcomer with that cheeky but sly smile of his. Childe being Childe, his mind wanders and he ponders just how much of a fight this stranger can really put up. The curiosity is bubbling up inside of him, his hands already picking up his new comrade as he twirls them in the air, an odd spark glinting brightly in his ocean blue eyes. If only he knew what he just got himself into… the same could be said for his adorable little comrade as well.

He’s a pest right from the get-go and if he’s being called out for his behaviour, he’ll just laugh, put an arm around your shoulder, press you closer against him and smoothly change the subject. He doesn’t mind when his more suspicious behaviour gets called out, it just means that you catch on fast which he likes, at the start… or so he thinks. If there is anything that Childe despises in the world it would be people who are weak, people who are unwilling to fight. You don’t need to be a master swordsman or anything like that in order to impress him, just show him that you have some ambition and you’ll be golden. But, he wouldn’t like it too much if his darling didn’t trust him. He seeks to earn your trust right from the start and he hates keeping secrets which is very much ironic on his part. He loves it when you come running straight to him, tears streaming down your cheeks as you hold him tightly, telling him about the scary stalker you think you have. He rubs your back gently and coos at you, his voice soothing your anxieties while not knowing that the true culprit was standing right in front of you. 

He always makes sure to present himself in the most incredible light he possibly can. You’ll never catch him sulking, he’s always ready for an adventure and he is always willing to pay for anything you want. It’s cute when you ask him how he can summon so much Mora but it still worries you. He buys you so many things, downright spoiling you like royalty that you actually start to feel guilty. How is this man not broke? It seems like you’ll never truly know, nor does he want to you to know.

It’s scary how many little things he notices about you. He studies you, his eyes always lingering on your form whether you realize that or not. He’s got eyes and ears everywhere, he always knows where you are. He often pushes his limits, scaring you on purpose just to see what kind of reaction you’d give him. Seeing the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight, your face losing some of its colour, fidgety arms searching for your house key in order to get away from the subtle danger that your gut keeps warning you about. There is no denying it, it gives him a new thrill he’s never felt before. He’s such a creep when it comes to these things, purposefully leaving little hints around your house that you are never quite alone, his shadow always tailing you no matter the time of day. He pushes his limits far too often but always steps back if he feels that his cover will be blown. He is a very patient man, he can play this little game of cat and mouse for as long as he sees fit.

If he promises you something, rest assured he will keep his word. Yes, he’s a pretty easygoing guy but he never goes back on his word, and he expects the same from you. Do not break your promises to him, please.

He’ll feel conflicted once he realizes just how much he cares for you. It’s amusing in a way, but also a little scary -  the way his heart starts to pump the moment he sees you is something beyond this world, how his blood boils when he sees you talking to someone he deems to be unworthy of your time and attention (which is almost everyone you know…). It’s not something he can express through words, so he does what his heart tells him. Stay as close to you as possible, never let you leave his line of sight. To the outside world his clinginess may seem endearing, downright adorable even. Seeing two young lovebirds together is always a sight for sore eyes but alas it’s a pity that never sees the panic in your own. His grip is far too tight, his stare too intense to be considered normal, his lips always close to your ear. He’s touchy like that and he takes pride in it. He has no shame.

When it comes to kidnapping it will happen eventually, but when exactly is all up to you. If he senses that something’s off, that you fell for someone else or anything of the sort he will take you. Even if things are alright, even if you fell head over heels for him the urge to dominate your life is still very much there. He is just so confident in his own strength that he feels more on edge if he leaves you alone. Childe has more enemies then he could care to count for but if they ever found about his little soft spot there would be serious consequences. He urges you to just sit on his lap while he does his work, it makes things so much easier.

As a proud family man, Childe would understand your desire to stay in close contact with loved ones and he actually supports it. Of course, all of your movements will be heavily monitored and if he sees anything that he deems to be suspicious, even if it was just a false alarm, he is taking you back home and this specific privilege will be taken away from you. He’s not risking anything, and don’t even think about trying to pull some kind of stunt, especially if you are out in public. When you’re alone with him again, that is when you’ll expirience what true Hell feels like.

A true sadist through and through, he takes great pleasure in seeing you come undone by his own two hands. He can’t help himself even if his life was on the line, seeing you miserable is good entertainment. If he does cross the line though, he will go easy on you. This hot and colt treatment keeps you on edge, never quite sure when he will come running to you, peppering your face with kisses and giving you sugary sweet compliments or when he feels like using you as a human punching bag. That is arguably the scariest thing about him, how easily he can shift between that kind, older brother figure to the bloodthirsy warrior that so many fear, and rightfully so. He is two sides of the same coin and you are the one who gets to flip it - whether you want to or not.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 29 - ao3 -

“In the future, you should send your children to the Cloud Recesses for me to teach,” Lan Qiren said. He was sitting with Wen Ruohan on one of the rooftop gardens in the Nightless City, watching the moon and stars from a pavilion placed there for that purpose; their bodies were pressed close together, and it felt as if they were far away from all the things that were familiar. “You and Lao Nie both, and naturally I’ll come visit with you often as well, bringing my nephew. Between the three of us, we might even be able to teach them how to be proper human beings.”

Wen Ruohan laughed in his ear and pressed his lips to his cheek – he had taken to kissing him at random, spontaneous, as if still overwhelmed by the fact that he now had the right to do it.

“I will,” he promised. “I agree, I think they’ll turn out better that way…you would really have me educate your precious little A-Huan?”

“If I’m willing to entrust myself with you, why not him? Anyway, I can teach him music, and with the aid of the other teachers in my sect the sword in the Lan sect style, but you can teach him much more than that. You know how to look at the world and see it for what it is, and then bend it to your will, make it sing to your tune. He’ll be sect leader in the future; he needs to learn that, and you can teach it to him.”

“I can, and I will,” Wen Ruohan said, then thought for a moment and asked, “What does Lao Nie bring to the table?”

“Flexibility, mostly.”

Wen Ruohan barked out a laugh. “He certainly has that.”

He didn’t even sound bitter about it any more.

Lan Qiren smiled.

“In the meantime, I will handle the rest of it,” Wen Ruohan added, and Lan Qiren looked at him in silent question. “Come now, Qiren. Did you really think that I would allow you to remain caged in the Cloud Recesses your whole life?”

Lan Qiren paused. That was the sorest part of his heart, his most painful misery, but he didn’t think Wen Ruohan would bring it up casually. If anything, he was a bit more afraid of what Wen Ruohan might get into his head to do about it – there was very little Wen Ruohan wouldn’t dare.

“Da-ge –” he started warily.

“No, no,” Wen Ruohan said, lightly scolding. “Little Lan, be serious! I already rejected the opportunity to cage you here at the Nightless City, playing only for me, despite how much I longed to do so. I refused to do it – me, refusing myself – because I knew it would only make you sad. Do you really think I would allow other people a privilege that I have denied myself?”

Lan Qiren did not laugh, but he dearly wanted to. It might be the first time he’d ever wanted to laugh about his situation – not even Cangse Sanren had managed that. “Has anyone told you that you are extremely self-absorbed?” he asked instead. “Arrogance is forbidden. Do not be haughty and complacent.”

Wen Ruohan smirked back at him. “All true, little Lan, but don’t forget your favorite: Do not tell lies.”

Self-absorbed, narcissistic and arrogant, Lan Qiren concluded, and there was no helping it. It was clearly a terminal case.

He used his sleeve to hide his laughter.

“What are you planning, exactly?” he asked once he had recovered. “If you harm my sect, whether directly or indirectly by denying them my services, I would be even more upset than if you tried to lock me away in here.”

Wen Ruohan waved a hand dismissively. “Do you think me so incapable? I have already begun making arrangements. Discussion conferences may only be once or twice a year, being as they are tremendously irritating to arrange, but there’s no reason that we of the Great Sects should not recognize our greater duty towards the smaller sects, and not to mention our obligations to protect the mortal world –”

“You know that it exists, then?”

Wen Ruohan ignored him. “The resources of cultivation clans are limited, and the world large. There are many places which would benefit from aid that do not see any simply because they are far away or tucked in inconvenient places, and no sect lives nearby – naturally, it is our duty to fight evil no matter where it is encountered. Lao Nie has already agreed that it is critical that the sect leaders demonstrate our sincerity by fulfilling this duty in person, leading by example.”

Lan Qiren’s heart had already felt as if it were overflowing with warmth, and it felt even more so now, almost squeezed to pain by how much joy was there. More than he had known he could contain.

Bad luck in brothers, he thought to himself - but oh, he had such good luck in friends!

“I see,” he said, thankful that his usual neutral tone concealed how happy he felt. “And naturally, where you and Lao Nie go, Sect Leader Jin cannot be far behind in his eagerness not to lose out, and where three of the five Great Sects lead, naturally the rest cannot be far behind. So I, too, will be obligated to...what? Go out on night-hunts in inconvenient places?”

“The world is too large, and the number of cultivators too few – and at any rate, there’s no point in setting up a full night-hunt which draws in every person from a thousand li for a few paltry fierce corpses or a ghost or two. I propose, instead, that we would send cultivators out alone, in pairs or in small groups, to wander for a few months through the remote places in the world and clean them up. Then, at the next discussion conference, the Great Sects could jointly agree that whoever was most enterprising would receive a reward, and naturally, stories of various exploits could be exchanged – ”

“Ah. Another reason for young men and women to gather and boast of improbable exploits.”

“Think of it as giving them more opportunities to win glory,” Wen Ruohan said. “And stop talking down about ‘young men’; you are a young man. Naturally you are also qualified to go out to do such things. Required, even: if our Great Sects do not set a proper example, who will?”

“Mm. A proper example. Even if I coincidentally happen to spend more time playing music than hunting demons?”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes were bright. “Even so. And naturally, you could always bring along someone more powerful to do the demon-hunting for you…”

“How convenient.”

Wen Ruohan smirked. “Do you doubt that I will be able to make it happen, little Lan?”

“No,” Lan Qiren said, then added, honestly: “I think you could take over the world if you wished.”

“Naturally! But it would be quite irritating, I think, if I had to also ensure that both you and Lao Nie did not disapprove of my methods…” He paused, lips twitching. “By coincidence, while we’re discussing convenience, I was thinking that it would be dangerous to send all those wild and reckless young men out there without proper support. Surely it would be only reasonable to set up a few convenient places here and there, not so far away, to provide them with supplies and a place to rest and recover –”

Convenient places that would fly the Wen sect’s flag and spread its influence, Lan Qiren presumed. Lanling Jin would be furious – using wealth to buy influence was their favorite technique, and they resented other people copying it – and would immediately insist on establishing their own set of “supply stations”, and then the rest of them would have to catch up and make their own. Yet another expense, and the Great Sects would need to do more than most; it would probably wreck havoc with the Lan sect’s annual budget.

On the other hand, well the remote parts of the world really did need the help. One of the Lan sect’s newly recruited guest disciples had been talking about a place not far from his hometown that specialized in making coffin goods; it was, according to him, the most inauspicious place that could possibly be imagined…

Not a place anyone might want to go, unless they truly were intent on traveling.

Lan Qiren smiled once again. He thought he might never stop smiling.

“Indeed,” he said, trying to sound dry and rational. “Very coincidental. No one will doubt that this is nothing but a scheme to expand your reach and power, rather than any personal motive.”

Wen Ruohan did not answer, but instead, matching a smile of his own to Lan Qiren’s, pressed his lips against Lan Qiren’s once more.

After a little while of silence, Lan Qiren cleared his throat and asked, “Do you intend to tell people?”

He was not referring to Wen Ruohan’s plans for the future.

Wen Ruohan understood.

“In time,” he said. “As much as I would love to shout that you are mine and I am yours from the rooftops and perhaps have bulletins be posted to every town -”

Lan Qiren grimaced. It would be one thing if he thought Wen Ruohan was exaggerating for romantic effect, but unfortunately it would be just like him to engage in that level of over-the-top grandstanding.

“– but your position is not yet certain, and my reputation is too questionable. People would make assumptions and spread malicious gossip, and I – I would not harm you to please myself.”

“Sweet-talker.”

“It’s not sweet-talking when it’s true,” Wen Ruohan protested, although he was chuckling. “When you are more renowned as a teacher than a sect leader, when little A-Huan is old enough to have passed the worst stretches of childhood – then we will announce it, and let the rest of the world choke on it if they like. You, me, Lao Nie…hmm. Jin Guangshan will probably think we’re concealing a conspiracy and ask to join in.”

Lan Qiren gagged. “I refuse,” he said. “I don’t care if I’m not physically involved, neither you nor Lao Nie are allowed to even think about it. That man has visited so many prostitutes that one might be forgiven for thinking he believes that the road to immortality is paved with venereal disease.”

“…thank you, that was an image I did not require.” A pause. “Jiang Fengmian –”

“Remember when he punched me in the face in a fight over a girl I didn’t even want?”

“It wasn’t a serious suggestion.” Wen Ruohan chuckled once more and pressed another kiss to his cheek. “Some years ago now, I swore to your Cangse Sanren that I would do right by you. I ought to invite her here and show her that I’ve made good on it.”

“You haven’t made good on it.”

“I haven’t?”

“No. Such a promise is fulfilled through the keeping – if you want to do right by me, there is no one singular moment that would qualify, but rather a continuing obligation.” Lan Qiren smiled up at him. “I’m sorry, da-ge. You’ll have to continue to do right by me for the rest of our lives.”

“I will,” Wen Ruohan said, and smiled back. “It would be my pleasure.”

-END-

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 3

A certain redheaded tabloid journalist tracks y/n down at work. Y/n finds out how persistent she is when she makes her an offer she just can’t refuse. 

Trigger warnings: Christianity, stalking, survivor’s guilt

You made it out alive, and that was more than could be said for some. 

Your consolation prize was a ghastly scar on your hand that you kept bandaged up as to not scare small children. You did get some worker’s comp after all; enough to pay for your medical bills and a little extra to make up for the lost workdays. All things considered, you were the lucky one. Four people lost their lives that day and three more were injured far worse than you. You should have felt grateful to be alive.

But somehow that was even worse. You got a couple stitches and some time off. It wasn’t worth four people’s lives. 

Your therapist explained it to you very gently. You were experiencing a phenomenon known as "survivor's guilt". She encouraged you to join a support group, get outside and familiarize yourself with your new experiences. 

This was good advice and all, but yours was the newest, hottest crime. You couldn't go anywhere without being hounded by reporters looking for whatever details you had somehow left out. Dr. Bloom encouraged you to take some time off work until the media circus died down, but you had bills to pay.

"I feel like there should be some rule about re-opening a restaurant within a week of it being an active crime scene." Charissa observed as she wiped down a table. "If anything, it's a health hazard."

"Are you serious?" You scoffed. You'd been tasked with refilling the salt shakers. Appropriate, because there was plenty of salt to go around. "Demand for this place has never been higher. Everyone wants to see if the blood is still on the carpet."

"Hooray for capitalism." She rolled her eyes. "Are you gonna be okay, [F/N]?"

"'Okay' is a very relative term." You forced a laugh. "I think I can make it through the shift if that's what you're asking."

"Aren't you behind the bar all evening?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that means I'm trapped." You folded your arms. "First thing you see when you walk in is the waitress who survived the- what are they calling him?"

"The Baltimore Butcher." She answered with a voice full of vitriol. "Do you think they ever consider the ramifications of giving literal murderers these weird superhero names? Like, no wonder we get copycats, they treat these guys like celebrities."

"Holy shit, right?!" You slammed the salt shaker down on the table. "Y'know, last night on the news, they used the creep's graduation photo and kept saying that he was a good Christian young man with a lot of prospects."

Charissa stuck out her tongue in disgust. "I saw that. And how he was 'corrupted' by crack cocaine. Once again, blaming a drug that was used to villainize poor Black neighborhoods in the 80's as some kind of corrupting agent."

You nodded furiously. "Instead of understanding that Christianity is a violent imperialist religion that lets violent white men absolve themselves of any guilt."

"And they knew it wasn't crack." Charissa added. "I heard that shit was completely uncut. You know he spent a lot on it."

"And I will say this until the day I am put in the goddamn ground," you tensed up. "The only reason the fucker escaped is because he is white."

"Hey y'all." Another waitress walked in for her shift. "What are we talking about?"

"Cocaine." Charissa answered. “Also white privilege.” 

"Great." She said dismissively. "Hey [F/N], can I scoop up that bar shift? I could really use the tips."

"Madison!" Charissa scolded. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"What?" Madison shrugged and glanced at you. "I didn't get any paid time off. I need the money."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Charissa scowled. "Are you seriously joking about her trauma?!"

"It's fine, she can have it." You rolled your eyes, then turned them to Madison. "Just know you're the reason I have survivor's guilt."

"Well now I feel bad." Madison frowned.

"Good." You and Charissa said in unison.

It was sort of comforting to get back to the script. Almost nostalgic. It provided the illusion of normalcy in an incredibly abnormal new reality. 

You approached the first table in Madison’s block, hoping for a new beginning. A young woman with fiery red hair sat alone by the window. 

“Hi!” You greeted, with a smile as genuine as you could muster. “My name is [F/N], I’ll be your waiter tonight.” 

The woman smiled back. “Evening.” 

You couldn’t tell what, but something was off. Perhaps you were trying too hard to force normalcy. Or maybe it was the borderline predatory way the woman was looking at you; like a shark following a trail of blood. Either way, the vibes were rancid. 

“Can I start you off with a drink or is water okay?” You ask. 

“Could I possibly trouble you for a glass of chardonnay?” She asked, lowering her eyebrows. 

“Of course.” You nodded and reached for your pen. 

“Actually,” She corrected herself. “If you could bring a bottle and two glasses, I’m expecting company.” 

“Absolutely.” You scribble the order down on your notepad. “Do you have a preference?” 

She thought for a moment. “Oh, dealer’s choice. Whatever you prefer.” 

You soon returned to her booth with a bottle of your favorite chardonnay and two stemmed glasses. You poured a small bit in one glass to let her taste. 

“You have wonderful tastes.” She complimented, filling her glass. “It’s very delicious.” 

You rocked on your heels. “Would you like to place your order now, or do you want to wait until after your guest arrives?” 

“Actually,” she repeated, filling the other glass. “My guest is already here.” 

She slid the glass across the table and gestured to the other seat. 

You felt stupid, but there was no way to avoid this. You couldn't just not do your job. She cornered you by the confinements of your profession.

"I really can't, I'm on the clock." You said, apologetically. The wine beckoned you. "I'm sorry, maybe another time."

"Oh, bummer." The woman placed her chin in her hand and pouted. "Well, I'm sure there's something that would make your boss look the other way."

She glanced down at your bandaged hand, then met your eyes. "The bandages are a dead giveaway, [F/N] [L/N]."

You then noticed a wire sticking from her pocket. Undoubtedly some kind of recording device. You looked at the ground. "I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave."

"But who will drink all this wine?" She asked, raising her glass.

"Ma'am." Your voice hardened as you tried to bite back an overwhelming rage. "Please leave the restaurant. I'm not going to ask you again."

Your manager, Matthew, passed by. "What's going on here?"

"This waitress is being very rude." The woman complained. "I ordered chardonnay, and she brought me chablis."

"Chablis is a type of chardonnay." You corrected. Even you found it strange that this was the hill you were willing to die on. "She asked for my preference, and I prefer the unoaked varieties."

Matthew looked confused. "Well, she's right."

You gestured to her pocket and he caught on immediately. He narrowed his eyes. "Ma'am, please leave the premises or I'll be forced to call the police."

The woman stood up, rummaged through her pockets and slapped a handful of bills down on the table. She then proceeded to drink both glasses of wine and walk away.

Matthew looked at you apologetically as he collected the bills. "Are you sure you want to be here tonight? I can call in someone to cover for you."

You shook your head and grabbed the bottle by its neck. "No, it's okay. I appreciate the concern but I really just want things to go back to normal."

"Hey!" A woman from the adjacent table called out. You prepared to immediately recant your statement about not going home.

"We like chablis." The woman said, gesturing to herself and her friend.

Her friend joined in. "And if that nosy reporter lady isn't gonna drink it..."

You glanced at Matthew, who shrugged. "Sure. It's yours."

The women exchanged delighted looks as you placed the bottle on their table. Matthew handed you a couple of clean glasses and you began to pour.

"For this wine, I suggest any of our wonderful seafood dishes." You explained, your cheeks stinging with a smile. "It also pairs quite nicely with chicken and game bird."

"Thank you." One of the women said. "If you don't mind, we'd like to take a look at the menu, please."

"Of course." You nodded. "Just flag me down whenever you're ready."

"This is why I put you behind the bar, by the way." Matthew gently scolded you as you collected the soiled glasses.

"Didn't you hear?" You said. "Madison needs the money because we can't all have paid time off."

"You should have come to me first." He sighed. "She has no right to say those things to you."

"Never stopped her before." You shrugged.

"I'll talk with her after the dinner rush." He said. "Just... try not to get cornered tonight, okay?"

"I'll do my best." You answered, flatly. “Because that’s definitely something I can control.” 

The rest of your shift went smoothly, or, as smoothly as could be expected given the circumstances. The nosy reporter was right, your bandage was a dead giveaway. You had to dodge a couple of questions, but most people had enough decorum to know the wound--metaphorical and literal--was still fresh. 

You said goodbye to Matthew and Charissa, collected your things and walked out to your car. You put the key in the ignition, only to find your gas tank was completely empty. You had just filled it that morning. 

You bit back a scream and fought the urge to slam your head against the steering wheel. Throwing the door open, you mentally prepared yourself to either make a long trek to the nearest gas station, or beat someone up.

“Looking for this?” A smug voice said over the cicadas. 

You turned around and saw the nosy reporter from before holding up a canister. A deep, blistering fury overtook your face as you slammed the car door. “You siphoned my fucking gas?” 

 “It’s not like you left me with much choice, [F/N].” She crossed her arms. “You’ll get it back once you answer my questions.” 

You threw your head back in disbelief. “You’re Freddie Lounds, aren’t you?” 

“I see I’m not the only one who does my research.” She said, looking a bit impressed. “How’d you know?” 

“It’s the first thing that comes up when you search ‘unethical crime journalists Baltimore’.” You answered. “There’s a whole flair dedicated to you on the subreddit for murder survivors.” 

Freddie seemed proud of herself. “Need a ride?” 

“I’d rather drive off a cliff.” You said, honestly, before turning around to leave. 

“Where are you going?” She walked after you. 

“To get more fucking gas, you evil bitch.” You shouted back. “Are you gonna follow me to the BP too?” 

“Look, I heard what you were saying to your friend.” She called out. “About white privilege.”

“Yeah,” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the same privilege that allows you to siphon a stranger’s gas and sit in a parking lot all night without getting arrested.”

“And I agree with you.” She hurried to your side, her chunky platform boots clacking against the asphalt. “They did you dirty and they’re shooting themselves in the foot by not listening to you.” 

You turned around and threw up your arms. “Why didn’t you just lead with that?”

“I invited you to sit down over a bottle of wine, did I not?” Freddie chuckled. 

“Cornering me at work is not a gesture of goodwill.” You huffed. “And I actually do want to put my story out there, but all you’re accomplishing by stalking me is guaranteeing you won’t be the one to do it.” 

“Are you really in a position to be that selective?” Freddie smirked and placed all her weight on one hip. 

You groaned. “What?” 

“The Baltimore Butcher is still out there, and you won’t be the hot new victim forever.” She grinned sadistically. “Soon enough, him or some other psycho is going to strike, and your fifteen minutes of fame are up.” 

“Good. Then I can go back to living my life.” You said. 

“But what if his next victim is a Christian?” Freddie grabbed your shoulder. “What if the next person who narrowly avoids getting their throat slashed decides to go on record and say that he doesn’t represent ‘real Christianity’?” 

You went quiet. You hadn’t considered it, but the thought of anyone downplaying his faith as a motivation made your blood boil. You looked into the man’s eyes and saw a person driven to kill for his god. A god he shared with the crusaders, conquistadors and slavers. 

“...but it does. Christians colonized half the planet for--” 

You stopped yourself when you saw Freddie’s smile. 

“You want to get on your soapbox, now’s your chance.” She bit her lip. “Take control of the conversation while you still can.” 

“Fine.” You spat. “I get off work tomorrow at four.” 

Freddie shoved the gas can into your hands. “I’ll see you then.” 

[tineechi]

Kono Oto Tomare! Chapter 106 English Summary

Raw: https://manga1001.com/%e3%80%90%e7%ac%ac106%e8%a9%b1%e3%80%91%e3%81%93%e3%81%ae%e9%9f%b3%e3%81%a8%e3%81%be%e3%82%8c-raw/

I’m making a raw translation because I am so excited but again, I am not a native speaker and may have tons of wrong things to say. So, take this with a grain of salt. :p Also, it is not a complete translation.

The chapter is entitled LOVE (with the Kanji for Love, which is also how Chika’s name is spelled). The line “All I needed was a bit of kindness” is written on the cover with Satowa giving a piece of strawberry cake to Chika.

It starts off with Atsumu and Momoya running together to where Chika is. Tetsuki sent the location via chat. This is a bit sad but Atsumu asks Momoya to show him the map because over many years of being bullied and chased after, he knows a lot of shortcuts and ways around this place.

Momoya says that he talked with his older brother on the phone and he said that he just wants to get Kudou back. Momoya continues on to say things about his older brother. His older brother is smart and how people don’t notice something because he looks excellent on the outside. On Momoya’s mind though, he thinks that “No, I was just pretending not to notice... the reason why you reached out to the son of your father’s mistress, why you contacted me regularly...”.

Momoya then remembers sitting on a swing with Uzuki and Uzuki saying things like “sometimes I think of destroying everything but everything is a hassle afterwards” and “I don’t even know myself when I’m in the middle of lies all the time”. Momoya then thinks that it has been Uzuki’s call for help (SOS) that has been going on for a long time. But at that time, Momoya chose not to get too deeply involved with his issues. Then he verbally tells Atsumu that this is the result of just continuing to look (not getting involved).

Atsumu pulls him to the right way and says that he noticed Uzuki’s situation now. It’ll be okay and they’ll make it in time. Awwww. These two!!! <3

The scene changes to Satowa and Chika and the thugs. Chika is surprised and tries to ask why she is here. Satowa shouts “Shut up Stupid (baka) Chika” hahaha.

She continues to scold him because he keeps choosing to do things on his own. Chika tries to explain that it wasn’t really like that but Satowa cuts him off with “I’ll tell you. I don’t want to be someone who is only protected behind you!” <3 Gaaah. Queen Satowa. Chika is left speechless! (I would too tbh)

The evil gang leader (forgot his name) interrupts and says things like he was surprised that a woman came to help Chika, etc. and continues to threaten them. He also keeps on calling Satowa “ojou-chan”, which is a way to call someone a “young miss” (from privileged families) and asks Satowa if she really understands the situation here. A goon comes a bit closer and Satowa kneels in front to Chika to cover him. Chika tries to pull Satowa’s arms and tells her “stupid, stop this” but Satowa turns around and hugs Chika.

THIS IS EPIC. Satowa said that if they want to hit, go ahead and hit her (while she’s hugging/protecting Chika). That is if they want to be caught by the police. She also says that they planned to make the Meiryo students their shields (pretending that Chika attacked the Meiryo student), but this will be the end of your stupid/dirty plan (if they hit her, she can just say the truth that they attacked her first). Some goons hesitate a bit but the stupid gang leader continues being stupid. 

Uzuki interrupts and asks “Why?” and “Who are you to Chika?” Uzuki continues saying that he has checked/investigated all the people around Chika and says that she’s not his girlfriend (NOT YET BUT SOON! HAHAHAHA). Uzuki continues with “You’re just in the same class and club” and “You’re certainly the young daughter of the clan head (Houzuki clan) and you’re on the opposite world from Chika”.

He asks why she is willing to do this much. He says that after this, she might regret this for the rest of her life. Chika tries to interrupt by calling her name but Uzuki keeps saying “you don’t need to go that far..”

Then Satowa hugs Chika tighter and Chika is left speechless again. Satowa says “Because I like you.” She then shouts out “About Kudou... I like you VERY much!” while hugging him and crying. T_T Chika is SUPER surprised. Hahaha.

Satowa continues to say, “so I don’t want you to get hurt, I want to definitely protect you, I want to cherish you, I want you to laugh always and I want you to always be happy”. GAAAAH! <3

Then she shouts (probably for Uzuki to hear), “Is that wrong/bad?! Do you have a problem with that?!” (Uzuki is also stunned) Then, back to Chika she says “so, I won’t let go forever” (Satowa uses the 絶対 zettai- forever/always word here again) and “I won’t leave/ won’t let go”. My heart promptly exploded here. <3

Then Chika remembers his grandfather in the hospital (after the attack on the Koto shop) saying that he has one wish/request for Chika. Gramps said that he wants Chika to be happy.

Gramps said that he already told Chika before but he should use his hands to protect things/people important to him. Use them to catch/get things that make him happy. Gramps said that Chika can understand it. Even though he might not be good at studying (hahaha. the shade!), Chika’s not stupid. But Chika (with his personality) might sometimes treat himself roughly, or give up on himself or cut himself off from others. For now on, Chika will have moments when he has to make various choices. When that time comes, don’t hesitate. Choose the path that will make you happy. That is something only you can do. No matter how much someone reaches out or pushes your back (supports you), whether or not you step forward, only you can decide if you grab that hand. (The scene is Chika’s hand starting to move around Satowa’s back) Then, with Gramps smiling face, he says “Be happy Chika”. (Gramps is the best. T_T)

Then the full panel of Chika hugging (reaching out to) Satowa back tightly. <3 

Uzuki is surprised and pulls the pipe from the leader’s hand. He is going to hit them with a pipe and Chika starts to react but DADDY Tetsuki comes to the rescue. He stops the pipe bare-handedly and throws Uzuki back. Everyone from the Koto club arrives and Hiro-senpai jumps at Satowa to hug her too! Hahaha. Hilarity ensues a bit because everyone is here.

Tetsuki asks the goons if they are not embarrassed because Chika is alone and there are 7 of them. 

Then, DADDY TETSUKI looks at Uzuki (with that cool-ass handsome face of his) and says “Anyway, that’s it Uzuki...” (In Japanese, the line is ここまでだ koko made da Uzuki, so kind of like... This is it/or this is where it ends/this is as far I'll let you go, you get the meaning I think! Hahaha)

I LOVE THESE PEOPLE SO MUCH! hahaha. I’m so happy for Satowa and Chika (Although I initially thought that Chika would confess first but Amyuu-sensei made the best confession scene.) I can’t wait for the sweet shyness that’ll probably come after this though. Just imagining Chika and Satowa being shy and awkward is making me so happy inside. Hahaha. Although, we would have to wait for December for the next chapter I think. Gaaaah! 

[caxsthetic]

Not Fine

Miya Osamu x F!Reader

Hurtful Truth: Not everyone was given the chance to have someone that they loved. And sometimes, we could only think about what could have been.

Pt. 2 ⇚ Part 3 ⇛ Ep.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *. GRAND MASTERLIST .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"All your services are brutal today, Atsumu."

The setter's grip on his water bottle tightened when his upperclassmen — now fellow teammates on Japan National Team — stated his well being all over again. He didn't answer, nor was he willing to explain why he looked like he was ready to kill anyone on sight.

Though, the wing spiker knew. Ojiro didn't have to hear anything from the blonde setter. The news about the Onigiri Miya scandal was all over the nation after all. The drama that no one ever thought would occur, knowing how much the owner and the woman behind the company loved each other.

But sometimes, this life was not all about fairy tales and happy endings. Not everyone had the privilege to have the love that they wanted. Not everyone could have someone they love to be their lifetime partner. And Atsumu, he knew that fact for a long time, ever since the first moment he laid his eyes on you.

"My sister will join us at today's practice." The middle blocker said after munching on his lunch. "Hope you guys would be okay with that."

Atsumu groaned, hating the fact that there would be some kind of distraction. He didn't care less though, knowing he would not even spare a glance. But a new face at practice only meant that everyone would swarm them, like a toy that everyone wanted to have. Especially since they were related to the members of the club, that made everything worse.

"Does she really have to?" Rintarou rolled his eyes a little when the setter parted his lips. Not because of the question, but more like how the question was being thrown.

"My parents are going to be home late. They will kill me if she's all alone in the house." Though the brunette just answered a matter of factly, knowing for certain if he answered with the same tone, all hell broke loose.

"Tch. Is she just like another squealing pig or something? Can't she take care of herself?"

"Sumu,"

"No, Samu. For real, do all girls really can't defend themselves? Why is she being treated so highly you can't make her stay at home all alone?" The commotion was not necessary, but he just couldn't help it when someone had the potential to wreck the practice.

"It's all about being a great sibling, Sumu." The opposite wing spiker answered with his usual flat intonation. "Something that you really lacked off, ya know?"

"Hah?! What does that mean?!" Atsumu really wanted to throw some pickles at his twin. But somehow he could imagine the silver-haired man opening up his mouth to catch the food instead, so he chose to stay silent and grumbled under his breath.

He played with his food, poking the vegetables as he had a big pout plastered on his face. "What is she anyway? A princess or something?"

But by God, you were more than just a princess.

The second you walked inside the gymnasium beside your brother, his jaw dropped as he felt like he was blessed by the deity. You were not like any other girls that were usually so timid and acting all shy — no, not like that.

You had your chin up, throwing your soft smile to anyone that met your gaze. So confident, as if it was the thousand times you were already meeting the whole team. Rintarou didn't even need to introduce you, you already talked to everyone like an old friend.

Something about you just made him feel warm. Atsumu didn't know you, he didn't even bother to ask the brunette middle blocker for your name. But he swore even though you were just standing there, eyes still focused on anyone else, he could feel his heart singing.

A genuine smile emerged on his face, the smile that only appeared when he looked at some cool volleyball technique or a row of fatty tuna at the convenience store.

"Hey, Samu." He called out to his twin brother as his brown orbs still planted on your figure. "At this moment, I claim Sunarin's sister as mine!" He expected to hear any remark, or maybe a volleyball being thrown towards his face.

But there was only silence. The setter was sure that his twin was standing right beside him, so why didn't he get any answer — oh. Oh, that's why. When he turned his face to look at the silver-haired man, he really wished he didn't.

The grey orbs that usually so dimmed, that didn't even spark that much when they were on the court, were now shone so bright with adoration and amazement. Atsumu followed where the gaze fell, what could possibly have made his twin brother have such intense expressions.

And he could feel his shoulder slumped when he realised that his twin was looking at the same person that he saw before. Why of all things in this world, they just had to have the exact interest towards one person. Not fair, he wanted to say that he was the one who looked at you first, he wanted to punch his brother's arms and told him that you would be his.

"Didja say something, Sumu?"

But right now as his twin brother finally composed himself and turned around to face him, Atsumu just realised how the love that he had for his twin brother was a little bit too much for his own good.

"Nah. Just some dumb things."

Guess happily ever after really existed only in the children's books.

"You have been scrolling through your phone for the last couple of minutes." The blonde setter didn't give any kind of response as he just drilled his eyes to the small screen. Knowing that he wouldn't receive anything, the stoic ex-captain of Inarizaki VBC decided to just sit beside the melancholic male, taking the empty stool.

It was not really like Atsumu at all, to seclude himself while everyone was either on the dance floor or bantering together — since it had been so long for the rest of the team to be in the same place. Though, Kita couldn't blame him from wanting to get away from here.

"You do understand that one day you have to make peace with Osamu, right?"

Just the mention of his twin was enough to make his blood boil. He gritted his teeth, scoffing at the idea of him to be on the same page with the businessman like before. As if he could see his twin brother without disgust, as if he could see his twin brother with the same fondness.

No, Miya Osamu didn't have the liberty to be considered as his brother the second he decided to cheat on you.

From the very first moment he saw you, Atsumu never thought that he wanted to have someone in his life as much as when he met you. Your sweet smile, supportive nature, so good and just felt so right even as time went by.

Though he never dared to say anything, not because he was a coward and afraid of rejection, it was not that. But because he knew too well that his twin brother used to look at you the same way he commits. What sickening was when he realised he still gazed at you like a fool in love while the younger twin didn't anymore.

And he wished, he really wished that he never let Osamu have a taste of your love since the beginning.

"Tch. Like hell I am willing to do that." Atsumu locked his phone and threw it mindlessly to the bar. "I am sorry, Kita-san. But you of all people should have known why I act like this." He clenched and unclenched his fist to calm himself down, to erase the little tremor that he felt.

The brown orbs that belonged to the setter now sent a dagger to the laughing man that was swarmed by a lot of people. How could his twin have such a joyous smile on his face after everything that he had done? How could someone act so free as if he didn't just tear someone else's life?

Osamu was blessed to have such a wonderful woman that never turned her back on him. When his twin called him that one particular day, saying that you said yes to his wedding proposal — Atsumu realised that he had lost the promise that he made at one of their fights.

"When we are in our deathbeds, I am gonna turn and look you right in your face! And say I had a happier life!"

He scoffed the second he hung up the call. His twin had won, there was nothing that could make him happier than to have you in his life, cheering at him on every match that he had. You were there though, on most of the tournaments that were held, being such a supportive sister-in-law.

You always sat on the VIP bleachers, the one that was located at the side of the court. When you were there to support him, you went all out, wearing his volleyball club's merchandise as if you were paid with how you looked like you were drowned by all of those items. And by all means, he wanted to run up to you after a service ace, he wanted to cup your cheek and smash his lips to yours.

Yet he knew that it was just a mindless dream. For years he buried his feelings that never wanted to leave. He was there to be the best wingman that he could ever be for his twin brother, he made sure that no one captured your heart except for Osamu — and of course himself.

Yet right now as he looked at how Osamu had his arms wrapped around Rintarou instead of you, he wished he never helped his brother to get your heart in the first place.

He couldn't, he couldn't do this anymore.

Atsumu grabbed his jacket and car keys, rushing out from the club that smelled nothing but sweat and alcohol. He used to enjoy it, to have fun and get wasted with his brother. But now a glimpse of the twin and he wanted to spit on his face.

His upperclassmen didn't even bother to stop him, knowing that if he tried to make him stay, it would only result in a fight. The setter didn't care how his brother called out to him, he didn't even turn his head as he walked through all the strangers that were invited here.

"Sumu!"

He sped up his pace, slipping through the swarm of people as he didn't want his twin brother to catch up on him. "Hoi, Sumu!"

Atsumu could finally feel the fresh air when he barged through the door. The night air was cold, but it was a lot more refreshing than the packed space inside. He stopped for a second, to gather his breath before continuing his pace to the car.

But then he tensed up when he heard someone else walking outside, following him. Something about a bond between a twin brother, was how they could feel each other's presence within some range. A scowl immediately appeared on his face as he could hear his twin panted behind him.

"Why the fuck you followed me?" His voice was flat, but from how he chose the words was enough to make Osamu know how much his older brother despised him. "I don't want to see you, go back to your — fuck, to that whore!"

Osamu snapped when the blonde setter insulted his fiancé. He couldn't control it as his body moved on its own, fist making contact to the back of his brother's head. It was as if there was a fire blinding him, what fire? He didn't even know as he continued to plant his fist to his doppelganger.

"Take that back, Sumu!" He was so enraged as he forcefully turned his brother's head to face him, hand gripping on the collar. "Don't you bring my fiancé's name like that! Rintarou didn't have any fault—"

"Didn't have any fault?!" Atsumu spit on his twin brother's face, making the black-haired man drop him to the ground. "You fucking cheat on (Y/n), and he agreed! The two of you fuck around on the goddamn house that you shared with her! He did it willingly, Samu!"

The parking lot was quiet, as everyone was currently inside and enjoying their night. Oblivious of what happened just outside the club. The setter dusted his clothes, gritting his teeth as he looked at his twin brother that he always boasted around here and there. But now, now the brown orbs looked at his carbon copy with disappointment. "And I still can't believe you did that too."

The two of them just stared at each other's eyes, five feet apart since they were sure another fight would ensue if there was no gap in between them.

Atsumu letting out a sigh, chuckling bitterly as he could feel tears pricked at the corner of his eyes. His twin brother could do nothing but to face the ground, funny how they were so close, yet felt so far as if there was no bond that connected them since birth.

The younger twin didn't dare to face his brother as he let every word that was just being thrown towards him sunk inside his mind. He knew that the setter now wanted nothing to do with him, he knew that perhaps for the next few years, Atsumu would do anything to avoid him.

Ever since everyone knew what he did with the professional middle blocker, he could feel how the string that linked them together — started to get loose. The two of them promised inside their own mind, that they would never leave each other behind. So he had to cling on that hope.

"Hey, Samu." The younger twins looked up, only to see the broad back of his brother. He didn't know what was inside the setter's head, he couldn't see his expression to predict the words that might come out. But somehow, he could feel his heart clenched as if it would be the last time he saw him.

"I wish I never had you as my brother."

And right at this moment, he just realised that he had lost not just one — but two people at the same time.

He had lost you, the only woman that would do anything for him in a blink of an eye, you that interlaced your hand with him as you walked right by his side from the beginning. You, you, and you. His first love, his first kiss, his first everything.

And he, too, lost Miya Atsumu, his very own twin brother that was there to accompany him when he breathed the first air in this world. Now his greyish orbs could only stare at the car that passed him, a sign that showed him from now on — he was on his own.

Osamu buried his face on the white sheet of his bed, covering his whole head with a pillow. This had been going on for the last minutes, and the setter started to get tired of hearing his usual quiet twin, acting like he just dropped some food down the floor, whining and grunting.

"Can ya shut yer trap?" Atsumu was not angry or something, he was just curious about what could cause his twin to be like this. "You are awfully annoying right now, ya know?"

He expected to hear some reaction, another insult just like how it used to. But surprisingly, he was only greeted by silence. The blonde that was playing the console before now paused his game, walking towards the bed and poke his head at the upper level. He nudged his twin brother on the waist, making the opposite wing spiker to jolt and yelped.

"What do ya want?!" Osamu grumbled and sat up straight on his bed, glaring at his twin. "I am busy thinking, what is it?"

"You are making disturbing noises as if you are going to die!" The blonde retorted, folding his arms in front of his chest. "What is it? Don't tell me you failed another exam."

"No, no." Letting out a sigh, the foodies leaned his head on the wall. "It's not that, it's something silly actually."

Atsumu raised one of his eyebrows, now really worried when he saw his twin brother looked so gloomy. He didn't want to show it, yet if someone saw him now, it was really visible through his brown orbs how much he cared for his younger brother.

"Yeah? How silly?"

"I like Sunarin's sister."

He parted his lips, wanting to say something, maybe a joke or some playful response. But it was as if there was a huge lump on his throat, making his voice to be stuck there when the information finally seeped on his mind.

He should have known this fact by now, everyone that had eyes could see how clumsy Osamu would be when you were around, how by just having you watching the practice made his performance on the court even better. Yet when he finally heard it right from the younger twin, he knew that there was no chance for him to make a move on you.

Ha, as if he had a chance from the start anyway.

"You are not really subtle, Samu." Atsumu snickered, trying to coat his own pain that was now bubbling inside his heart with some laughter. "Why did you look so scared? You have this handsome face, it would be easy to catch her heart." He playfully pointed at his own face, after all the two of them were twins anyway.

"Jerkhead."

"Hey!"

The silver-haired man rolled his eyes, now snickering when the setter had a big pout on his face. Atsumu felt relieved inside his heart, that at least now his twin brother could laugh and came back to his usual self. He may not look like it, but he would do anything to make sure that his twin lives the best life.

"For real, though, Samu." He cleared his throat, a smug look was now written all over his face. "I will be the best wingman ever, and you will get that pretty lady to be your lover ten days from now!"

If that meant he had to sacrifice his own feelings, then so be it. Miya Atsumu loved his brother, maybe more than anything in this world, more than the woman that could make his heart skip a beat in a matter of seconds by just glancing at her.

And when he saw the grey orbs covered with hope, he knew that he had chosen the right thing to do.

Right now though, Atsumu really wanted to turn back time when he was still in high school.

He wanted to go back, to when he first laid his eyes on you. If he was given the chance, he would snap his fingers in front of his twin. If he could be on that day once again, he would make sure that the once wing spiker could hear him loud and clear when he declared you would be his.

Atsumu chuckled bitterly at how everything turned out. His brown orbs stared into the ceiling, ignoring his phone that kept vibrating on the drawer. Every time he looked at the screen, it was always the same name. Miya Osamu, one of the most successful businessmen below thirty.

Today, he was supposed to be the best man for the business tycoon. He should have worn the black suit that had a golden accent on the collar and the wrist. But the exact same suit was now still packed under the plastic wrap, hanging inside his massive closet as if it was just another old clothes that he would never wear.

When he got that suit all those months ago, he was appointed to be the best man at Miya Osamu and Suna (F/n) wedding, that was the deal. He already prepared the speech, as he wanted to be as perfect as he could be in front of the two people that he loved the most.

Even though he was jealous, even though sometimes he flipped his twin's portrait so it was as if he was the one inside the picture with you, he still wanted the best for the black-haired man. Yet now, to know that he sacrificed his own happiness, to know that you devoted your whole life for his twin only to have your heart broken at the end of the day — Atsumu really couldn't stop himself from thinking about what could have been.

He groaned when his phone vibrated once again, and he was ready to just throw it out the window or turned it off. But he was anticipating someone else, he was afraid that you would call him. He wanted to make sure that he was just one call away, that he was easy to reach.

And well, it was all paid off when your name was now all over his screen.

Atsumu immediately sat straight, bouncing like a child as a smile adorned his lips. He didn't know why he felt so nervous, it was just you after all. Ye,s you, the one woman that he had been pining from for the last ten years he lived in this world.

"The superior twin is here!" He declared with so much confidence in his voice, and he was so giddy when he could hear you snicker from the other line. "I am serious though, I am older, therefore I am superior."

"I don't know where you got that way of thinking, but I will let it slide for you." You answered, though his forehead scrunched up a bit when he caught how different you sounded like just now. But he shook it off, he would keep talking and become your company, that was his goal from the start.

Something that he noticed was how clear your voice was just now. Usually, it would crack here and there, the results of you crying for hours. But you were so much calmer, yet you still sounded so tired, as if you had been working nonstop.

"Ah, miss (Y/n), always so humble." But he wouldn't ask anything if you were not the one who opened up to him. "Say, what have I done to get such privilege hearing your voice?" Because for him, to be at least the one who you were comfortable talking to, was enough.

"I just need company, Atsumu." You breathed out softly, and he could hear a gentle splash of water from your side. "Are you busy helping around the wedding?"

"No, I am not busy. Not at all." He wanted to confess that he was not even at the venue, but somehow he could hear you scolding him for not being a good brother for his twin. So he decided to keep his mouth shut, focusing himself solely on you. "I am here, (Y/n). I am always here if you need me."

"Yeah?" Your voice was strained a little. "Then, would you tell me a story? Anything? I just want to listen to your voice."

His heart skipped a beat faster from your statement. Your words made him feel something that he had lost, the thing that he buried since he saw how his twin's eyes sparkled when he saw you. Hope. He cleared his throat, chuckling a little as he tried not to show how nervous he was right now.

"Since you asked so nicely."

Atsumu was a great storyteller, that was what you could conclude by hearing his tone went up and down so easily as word after word rolled down from his tongue. It was refreshing, to hear him talking non stop like this.

Something about his voice just made you feel at peace. As if you were back to your high school days where everything was all good. He always came up at you, usually talking nonsense and whined about his twin brother. It had been so long since you had a decent conversation, all because the work schedule and adulthood being harsh.

So to hear the same voice that used to accompany your teenage life, to hear the same cheeky remarks here and there that just screamed freedom — you knew that it was the right thing to call him.

"Hey, Atsumu."

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

The blonde setter was taken aback by the sudden gratitude that you gave. He never asked to be acknowledged by you, he never expected himself that one day you would see him without any lingers that reminded you of your ex-fiancé.

Then again maybe, maybe this was a good start, and he really couldn't wait to see you back in line, became the princess — without prince — that kept thriving to reach the ultimate ending.

"Really, it's nothing." He chuckled softly, carding his fingers to the strands of his blonde hair. "I just tried to be the best... friend that I could ever be."

One step at a time, Miya Atsumu. He reminded himself. Maybe one day you would find your happily ever after, but you needed to be patient.

"Hehe, you are the best." Your voice sounded more distance by now. "Now I wonder what would happen if only I am being honest at that time." As if you dropped your phone somewhere, and you were too tired to pick it up.

"Honest?" But he didn't pay too much attention to it as he was more curious by your words. "(Y/n), what do you mean? That time when?"

There was only silence, and right now his mind was creating a lot of scenarios. He bit his lips, wanting to know what was the meaning of your words. "(Y/n)? Please, what do you mean by being ho—"

"I used to like you, you know?"

And time seemed to stop, as the confession rolled down from your lips so easily. He wanted to say something, he wanted to ask you to define your words. Like was such an ambiguous word. It could be interpreted as how you like his personality, or you liking the fact you were friends with him, "I used to love you, at one time."

"W-What?" But this one word slipped from your lips, answered his questions from before. "Don't joke around like that. You always loved Samu, everyone knew that." Yet he didn't want to believe it. "You kissed him on your first date! Not any girl would kiss—"

"Because you were there, right?" He stopped talking, bringing himself back to that particular day. "You always tried so hard to make sure I fell in love with Osamu, I am not that dumb. So I just want to make you happy by opening up my heart for him." The same day where he tucked his feelings away. "You are one wonderful man, you know that, Atsumu?"

The day he let you go for his twin, was the same day you let your feelings go to love another man that was not him.

"(Y/n), I—"

"So even though now I wonder about what could have been," He just felt hope a moment before. "I am glad." So why now suddenly it felt like someone just burned the bridge that would lead him to his happy ending? "I am glad that you were the last person that I spent my time talking to."

"Wait, what do you mean?" He wailed, waiting to hear for your response. "(Y/n), fuck! What did you mean by the last person?!" He screamed to his phone, begging for any kind of sign that you were there. But there was nothing, once again he was greeted by nothing but silence.

Atsumu felt like he couldn't breathe. He needed to see you, he needed to make sure that you were alright. Maybe you were just falling asleep, maybe just like what Akagi had wished, you could finally sleep after days being in such a rollercoaster of emotions.

Ten minutes. He could be there in ten minutes by foot, a lot faster compared to how he needed to prepare his car and opened up the garage. The setter didn't think twice as he wore his shoes and ran to your house. He didn't bother to lock his front door as he dashed himself to see you, mind too predominated by lots of dark scenarios.

You used to love him. He tried to hold on your words. If at one time you fell for him, then perhaps one day you could love him once again. He wanted to believe in that as he ran even faster, thanking himself for choosing to be a professional athlete that could make him have a lot of stamina.

His mind kept replaying the fact that was being poured on top of him like a bucket of ice water. Ever since he knew you, he was too busy coating his own feelings. Telling lies to himself, belittled his own mind because he didn't want to have any regret when he helped his twin to be close with you.

If only he knew, if only he looked closer to your eyes and not just focused on his twin — maybe, he would have his very own fairy tale that he always yearned to have.

He knocked haphazardly on your front door, his heart still felt so heavy as he waited for the latch to be unlocked. But even after seconds went by, even after he kept screaming out your name without a care that people would call the police, you didn't even show yourself.

"Fuck it."

When he didn't hear anything from the other side of the door, he immediately spun his brain, searching around the terrace since he knew you had a habit to save a duplicate key somewhere — a habit that your ex-fiancé once told him.

Atsumu let out a smile of relief when he saw the silver key tugged on one of the potted plants. And without wasting another time, he immediately turned the key, eyes scanning the whole ground floor in case you were there, maybe falling asleep somewhere.

But there was no sign of you, not even in the bedroom of yours. Your room was clean, nothing but a bed, some books, and photographs. It was as if you never lived here with how the room looked like what people could find in a design magazine.

Everything was too neat like you have been gone for a long time. And he was ultimately afraid that you were not here to begin with.

Then his mind replayed the phone call from before; every sound that you made, the calm voice of yours, each of the syllables that came out from your lips, he tried to remember all of that. Splash of water. He heard it in the first minutes, and it was enough for him to take another step in this mission to find you.

He braced himself as he walked closer to the master bathroom that was connected without any door. Atsumu was ready to hear you scream, maybe throwing some of the shampoo bottles in his direction — he was okay with that, because at least, at least you were fine.

The bathroom was the same, so clean that no one could find any unusual things. Though his eyes were sharp enough to see the two bottles of sleeping pills on the sink. He took it to his hand, and he swallowed a huge lump when he saw the condition. All were opened, all were emptied.

He immediately jerked his head to the bathtub that was filled to the brim. The colour was milky white, and the surface was scarily stagnant. No. It can't be. He was scared to take another step forward. No, no, no. Because now as he was standing right beside the tub,

His orbs could catch the silhouette of a human body, one that was perfectly — still.

"No," He hiccuped as he could only feel dread. In a swift moment, he jumped himself to the enormous tub, trying to find where your head positioned with how blurred the water was. "Please, please." And he gasped when he could finally see your face.

You looked so glorious, that if you were a heroine in some kind of fantasy book, he was sure that you would become more than just a princess. Even with your hair sticking all over your face, even with how your lips slowly turned to blue, you still looked the same through his eyes.

Perfection, the only person that could make his life complete.

Atsumu cradled you, pulling your now cold body on his embrace in case he could hear your heart beats. But there was nothing. In this space he was in, the only thing that could be heard was the prickling waters and his own misery.

When he imagined himself to have you in his arms, this was not the scenario that he ever had in mind. He wanted to hold you close for a thousand times, he wanted to be the one that could make you feel better when you were feeling down. Maybe he was already like that, but it was not enough.

With trembling hands, his finger swept your hair gently, tucking the strand of it at the back of your ear. He eyed your expression as you fell asleep, and he couldn't help but let out a small chuckle that filled with bitterness and anguish.

"Can you hear me? Hey, (Y/n)?" His voice cracked, vision blurred with his own tears as he shook your body. "(Y/n), please, y-you haven't heard it, please." He swallowed a huge lump, biting his own lips as he was still clinging to some miracle that could happen.

"I love you." So fucking much. "Can't you hear me? I love you! I love you, (Y/n) why didn't you wait for me?!"

His finger pinched your cheek, it was the fastest way to wake you up when you fell asleep on their practice all those years ago. He needed to see your orbs, he needed to see how your lashes fluttered open the second he woke you up, just like usual. One more time, he needed to see it just one more time.

"Hey, wake up. I promise I am not going to leave. I will always be here, I'm always here."

But your eyes still closed, and he shouldn't have expected a miracle when he knew there was not any.

"I am sorry. I am sorry."

And Miya Atsumu should have known better, that there was no such thing as happily ever after in this real world.

Tagged Lovelies:

@muffins-puffins @quirksandbreaths @vlovers-world @blacckdiamondposts @atsunflower @hihiq @the-fandom-ness @murasakibaraa @verbluehte @simp4tsukkii @ladyalicevii @evermorehaikyuu @clowninfortodoroki @koutaroulovebot @fitriiaw @mistypoison @aquariarose @greenleaf-fantasy @t-amajiki @kuraomi @haikyuuwithadashofart @starbybokuto @shiningstar-byulxx @nerdyphantomlady @raequii @akasuns @sugawsites @macaronnv @spicyfoodboi

[cto10121]

you’re oversimplifying the argument surrounding the darklings hunger for power. i agree, alina isn’t alina without her powers. but it’s quite clear that the darkling is willing to prioritize the use and commodification of her powers over her agency and personhood. his main goal was to orient alina towards his political cause so he could use her powers, the feelings came after. when it became clear that alina would choose a different path, the darkling threw her independence and right to consent out the window and collared her to harness her power as his own. this is a clear indication that he prioritizes that utility of alinas powers > her. the argument that “alina is not alina without her powers!” in this case makes little sense because you’re somehow implying that the darkling’s primary motivation for pursuing alina was because he liked her for who she was, which is just as inaccurate.

Okay, this is where we have to be clear which Darkling we are talking about, book!Darkling or show!Darkling. Because there is a clear difference between the two and how their motivations and actions were written and we cannot move forward without acknowledging the changes and the (bad) writing that plagues the Darkling re: motivation.

Because for better or worse, unlike book!Darkling, show!Darkling makes little to no distinction between Alina the person and Alina the Sun Summoner. Even in his language he uses mostly Alina or Miss Starkov, depending on the situation and context; post-Episode 5, he uses Sun Summoner with Ivan and the other Grisha, but (revealingly) Alina with Zoya. He constantly looks straight at Alina during her light demonstrations and not her light, even when others do. “I have seen you for what you truly are, and I have never looked away. I never will” betrays the core of this attitude and it does ring true (Barnes at least confirmed it to be a non-manipulative line). To the Darkling at some level, Alina and the Summoner are one and the same. It’s even questionable that he even planned to control her power with the amplifier from the get-go; it reads more like he expected (delusionally?) Alina to see his side of things and understand why they should keep to the Fold for now. It reads more like a decision he took only after Alina left him, which he construed as a personal betrayal and a break of trust (from his POV).

Yes, he did plan to use the Sun Summoner for his own devices because, well, he knew her as only the Sun Summoner in the beginning—just like most if not all the characters in the show. She had political significance to him and others. But that he started to see her as more than that is pretty evident even early on. I won’t lie, I did laugh at the “are you sure?” consent request—oh, yes, control her power via amplifier without her consent, but for sex, surely not!!!—but again, it reaffirms the theory that show!Darkling’s original intentions were most likely to let Alina kill the stag and take over its power and then reveal his plan to expand the Fold. It would even explain lines like that incredulous, cold, and even judgmental “You would give up your gift?” Ep. 2 line after Alina offers to transfer her power to someone who would use it—not the type of reaction someone planning to do exactly just that would have. You’d think 500 years of existence would give you a finer appreciation of irony.

Does this mean that since the Darkling initially planned to use her that his eventual falling for her is therefore less pure/inferior to Mal’s love? Yeah, if you have a black-and-white “only love based on and arising from pure motivations is valid!!!” type of view. Does this mean that since he wouldn’t have looked twice at Alina had she not been the Sun Summoner, his love for her is less pure? Well, considering book!Mal 1) did not even notice Alina romantically until after she was taken to the Little Palace and 2) definitely had tons of trouble accepting Alina as the Sun Summoner in Book 2 before magically becoming warmly supportive in Book 3, I’m not too fussed over splitting logical hairs and playing the what-if fanfic AU game at ridiculous levels (“Voldemort would never look twice at Harry Potter if he weren’t a wizard destined to destroy him!! He just hated him because of the prophecy, it’s not true hate!!!” *le sigh*). Also, what about Nikolai? He, too, initially viewed Alina as a symbol of hope, used her for his gain, and proposed a strictly political marriage for alliance. Doesn’t take away from the fact that he did come to like her for herself and it sure did not stop most of the fandom from simping for him hard or shipping him with Alina.

I’m frankly too old for purity tests; kindergarten was a long time ago for me, you see. We may enjoy fictional villains for their nigh-omniscient, well, villainy, but in the real world and in fiction that seeks to portray its messiness, you never have as much control as you think you do, no one does. Power and privilege are very much relative. And above all, things never go according to plan. The fact that the Darkling initially viewed Alina as the Sun Summoner to play a key part of his plans does not take away from the fact that he did honestly fell for her and came to see her as more than just the Summoner. He did do wrong in trying to control her, definitely, but for reasons I’ve explained, it’s not as revealing of his true view of her as you’d think. “I’ll relax,” as he tells Zoya when he rejects (!!) her advances, “when I have Alina.” Not Sun Summoner.

(Also, as a bit of a P.S., much of my original post was not so much about the Darkling as the fandom’s own cleaving of Alina from her powers. I get that Bardugo’s narrative almost encourages the reader to view Alina’s powers as something apart from Alina, powers that corrupt her or could, but I must question that artistic decision, especially since 1) it contradicts the established magical system so damn hard and 2) magical male heroes like Harry Potter never face the prospect of losing their power or having their power be controlled by another or even being “corrupted” just by using their power. I really resent that sexist double standard. If Harry weren’t a wizard, he would not be Harry. If Alina weren’t the Sun Summoner, she would not be Alina.)

[faulty-writes]

Big 3 headcanons with a crush on a student of a first or second year?

It was near impossible for a lowerclassman not to have heard of The Big Three. Watching them perform was a privilege and if you happened to be lucky enough to learn under one of them. Well, it earned you a little respect. If a Big Three member happened to have a crush on you...it was a different story. 

Mirio was argued to be the most popular member of The Big Three and often volunteered to help the first-years with their training. You originally refused to partake in such a thing, believing training on your own brought more self-discipline but Izuku insisted you go anyway. Something about respect for future Pro Heroes. 

The overly energetic boy wasn’t expecting to fall for a first-year, but somehow or another during the training session. He found himself staring at you and when he went to speak to you. He got a little tongue-tied, he honestly didn’t know what was wrong with him.

The answer came later when he saw you passing through the halls of UA, butterflies filled his stomach and his heart sped up. He went as far as to try and hide from you because he was too afraid he’d make a fool of himself if he didn’t. Of course, you were completely unaware of this. 

It wasn’t until Nejire pointed his feelings out to him, which was during lunch no less. It was kind of obvious that he was crushing on you. “Why don’t you just ask them out? I think their name is Y/n and I’m sure they’ll say yes!” she blurted out which caused Mirio to jump. “W-What? I...I uh, sorry. I don’t think I can,” Mirio replied as his face turned red and he quickly excused himself from the cafeteria. 

Though he couldn’t deny it, he would love to ask you out. But, would that be too weird? A third-year and a first-year? There wasn’t much difference in age, but people would still talk and Mirio didn’t want you to get harassed or anything. But, damn. He really did like you, maybe he should confess his feelings. But then again, that raised the question of how.

But he made the choice to finally talk to you when he saw you at your locker. He hesitantly approached. Despite the butterflies going wild in his stomach and his mind racing a mile a minute, his legs felt like jelly and he swore his tongue was swollen. “H-Hi!” he screamed which startled you and nearly caused you to drop your books. You looked at Mirio wide-eyed, “Uh, I’m M-Mir-” you nodded. “Mirio Togata, nice to meet you. I’m Y/n,” you reached out to shake his hand. 

He loved getting to know you, but the urge to make you his was still there. He needed to make a move quickly before someone else snatched you away. So, one day after school. Mirio arrived at the first-year dormitory and asked for you specifically. His courage nearly left him when you stood in the doorway and smiled at him. But before you could say anything, he blurted out “WillYouPleaseGoOutWithMe?!” it was a relief that you even heard him correctly, “Uh...sure,” you replied, a little stunned. But, it was almost worth it to see the way he smiled. 

Nejire and yourself had crossed paths before, considering you were both hero students. The only difference was you were in your second year, while Nejire was in her third and part of The Big Three. But that never intimidated you. All heroes, including those in training, deserved mutual respect. 

It was no secret that the hero students in each grade had collaborated training sessions. Supervised by the teachers of course, but apparently, the teachers had decided that merging upper and lower classes would be a good idea. That’s how you ended up meeting Nejire Hado. 

You never expected the third year to be taken with you, Nejire seemed to make it a point to get to know the lowerclassman. But, it was a tad distracting when she greeted you in the hallway or stopped by to wish you luck on a test or exam. You were beginning to get the feeling she was either desperate for friendship or somehow liked you. 

Truth was, Nejire found you interesting and certainly wanted to know more about you. When you had trained together, she found herself captivated by your looks, talent, and overall heroic spirit. From there, she found herself thinking about you and decided to follow her feelings. After all, that was the next logical step. Get to know your person of interest. 

Despite knowing how busy a second year student could get between their studying and intense training. Nejire still wanted your attention, but she thought going to the second year dormitory would only cause an unnecessary fuss. Regardless, she kept her spirits up and believed she’d eventually find a way to capture your heart. 

She was happy she got that warm and fuzzy feeling whenever she was around you or whenever she saw you passing through the hallway or walking to your dormitory. Mirio and Tamaki took notice of this and Nejire being the open and prideful person she was, admitted she had found someone she wanted to be with. Even if she was on her way to becoming a Pro Hero. “I just know I can be the one for them! I won’t give up!” she declared and of course, the fellow Big Three members supported her. 

When the time came for the school festival, Nejire was overly hyped to enter the beauty pageant. Determined to be the victor, of course when you walked into the room with Izuku and Mirio. She nearly lost her focus, “H-Hi! Y/n, you look lovely!” she blurted out, despite wanting to slap herself as soon as those words left her mouth. But you didn’t mind, in fact, you smiled, “Thank you, Hado. You look beautiful in that dress,” her cheeks flushed furiously at your comment and she was more determined than ever to win that crown and impress you. 

After the school festival was over. She sought you out, “So, there’s something I’ve been meaning to say,” she began, it was unusual to see Nejire nervous and it immediately concerned you. “I’ve...honestly had a crush on you for a while now and I know this may be weird to say, but I think we’d work really well together. If you reject me, I understand. But, I’m going to ask you anyway. Y/n, will you go out with me?” she questioned as she handed you the flowers she had gotten from the pageant. Could you really say no? 

Tamaki Amajiki hated attention in every sense, he was an introvert and preferred to stay within his own comfort zone. He hadn’t given much thought to romance, but it figures you’d change that. Turn his whole world on its side, how could he handle having feelings for a first-year support student? 

He couldn’t. As the timidest member of The Big Three, he was often underestimated despite his skill in combat. He wished he could have that same courage when it came to you. But instead, he’d always run away when he saw you, in school or in public. He couldn’t handle the pounding in his ears from his rapid heartbeat or the way his stomach twisted and made him nauseous when you were around. He even became paranoid that he’d end up passing out the next time he saw you. 

He was constantly conflicted over the fact that at any given moment, someone would catch onto his feelings for you, and then what would he do? He knew he’d have an anxiety attack if rumor spread he had a crush on you, after all, it was embarrassing when others knew your feelings toward someone. But, he knew it was bound to happen. It was his luck, should he just come clean? Oh right, then there was rejection to worry about. In short, Tamaki was a mess. 

Still, he couldn’t help himself. He admired your intelligence, the way it seemed like you could craft anything. Similar to Mirio, in his eyes, you had a certain glow around you. Something he couldn’t hope to compare to, but even that wasn’t enough to stop his feelings for you. Part of him wished you would notice him or that he had the courage to talk to you. 

His prayers might have been answered too soon, “Heeeey Suneater!” Eijiro screamed as Tamaki entered the Fat Gum Agency. “Check it out! Y/n over here is going to make me a new costume!” he declared and Tamaki stopped dead when he saw you. He felt his mouth go dry as you scolded Eijiro to stand still. “Uh, Suneater, you okay?” Eijiro questioned as he watched Tamaki step back and quickly shake his head before facing the nearest wall. Eijiro assured you Tamaki did this often and in a way, you almost found it adorable. 

It was humiliating the next few days at school and you got the feeling Tamaki was purposely avoiding you. Of course, when you spoke to Eijiro about it. He made some excuse that Tamaki was just busy but in reality. The redhead was trying to convince the third year to at least try to talk to you. Of course, Eijiro didn’t know of Tamaki’s feelings for you but he had a hunch he liked you.

Despite not wanting to push Tamaki into telling him, Eijiro made sure the shy boy knew he could tell him anything. After all, friends took care of each other and Eijiro was always willing to listen to whatever problems his friends were having. His words paid off in the end and Tamaki confessed he had a crush on you, “That’s awesome man! You should ask them out! Come on! You’re super manly! There’s no way they’ll say no!” Tamaki of course, couldn’t find the courage to do such a thing, and Eijiro might have gone behind his back and told you. 

In fact, Eijiro helped convince Tamaki to meet up with you. Given, he had gone to Fat Gum for advice and Fat Gum welcomed the love confession to happen at his agency so he could see his little Suneater grow. The look on Tamaki’s face when he saw you was something of dread and he tried to run away but Eijiro had a grip on him. Tamaki then proceeded to hide his face behind his hood and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene. You walked over and smiled, “Uh, Amajiki...do you want to go out with me?” Tamaki looked at you with wide eyes, maybe it would take time to build your relationship up. 

[micasaessakusa]

The luckiest man alive

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader Genre: Angst Word Count: 3.224 words Warnings: Memory loss

If someone were to ask Bokuto what he thinks about life, he would undoubtedly give an answer that couldn’t be fitted into a three-hour monologue.

Tangents about his favorite pleasant aspects of his life would be there: his friends and family, volleyball, the feeling of victory, the feeling of being loved, and speaking of love - you.

Bokuto Koutarou believes he’s a very lucky man. 

Of course, he gives great weight to hard work, but he’s just so lucky that his hard work has almost always been coupled with, well, luck. He’s lucky to have found his passion in volleyball, lucky to have been surrounded by people who always support him, lucky to have gotten the opportunities he’s been presented, lucky to be doing what he loves, and lucky that you’re there beside him.

Ups or downs, you’re there for him. And he’s so lucky that you make your presence even more known in his slumps. Did he do something good in his past life for him to be blessed with good fortune and you in his present life?

Maybe he saved the world or something, is what he always thinks.

And because of the luck that’s always been by his side, Bokuto is naturally optimistic. How could he not be positive when he always gets what he wants, right?

Sure, people see him as someone who’s easily swayed emotionally. And someone who feels down from the most mundane things must be a pessimist instead, right? That would make better sense, but when has Bokuto Koutarou ever abided by sense?

Even in the face of whatever Bokuto shows outside, his heart and mind are always set on looking towards the brighter side of things. 

For example: he can’t hit well? Aww too bad, and for sure he’ll mope around a bit. BUT he’s already looking forward to getting back up again and hitting those super satisfying straights and thin crosscourt shots of his. 

He fails an exam? You’ll see him hiding under his desk, muttering about how he just couldn’t get his mind to wrap around topics. BUT he’s already thinking of the tutoring he’s going to get from Yukie and Shirofuku because of course they’re not going to let their ace fail and get bumped off the team for academic failure.

They lose a game? He’ll undoubtedly be inconsolable for a day - maybe even two. BUT he’s already pumped with adrenaline from the anticipation of the future MSBY training sessions that would surely tire the heck out of him. They have to work to secure that next win after all.

Luck is always on his side. How could it not be when in his point of view, he’s the protagonist of the world.

Whatever comes his way is just a challenge waiting to be conquered. He could be sad and mopey for sometime, but for all intents and purposes, he’s absolute that he could triumph over anything.

To sum it up, even though Bokuto Koutarou could not be contained in a few words, if he does try to name a few to describe himself, it would be: lucky, optimistic, and of course, grateful. Gotta be thankful for all that fortune after all.

That’s who he is. 

So when word reached him that you got into a terrible car accident that almost took your life, he cried.

He cried, sobbed-- he broke down in anguish and absolutely refused to leave your side throughout the whole operation to save your life. He remained adamant to not leave you by yourself in the weeks that took for you to recover, and he willed himself to remain optimistic that you would wake up from the coma-- that he could once again be given the chance to gaze upon your gentle, familiar orbs that he’s come to cherish so much.

It tore his heart to see you asleep. 

That’s what he took to calling it: asleep, for if he called it what it really was, he’s afraid he’d break down even more. And break down he did. Just after being told of the severity of your condition, he fell to his knees on the hospital hallway, unable to support himself from the disbelief, the sadness that he felt. But his friends and family were there the whole time, never leaving him to fend for himself.

His teammates never left his side, especially Shouyou, your cousin Omi, Tsum Tsum, and of course, Kuroo and Keiji. Even with their own busy lives, Bokuto’s just so lucky to have special people that gave him strength when he needed it the most.

Bokuto wept from the accident, but he thanks his lucky stars that you survived, you made it out alive and that’s what really matters. He’s grateful that despite what happened, you weren’t taken away from him, and because of that, he’s optimistic that you’re going to wake up and give him the privilege to be with you again.

The universe must have heard his wishes, for you suddenly woke up a couple of days after the fifth week mark.

He remembers it clearly.

It was nine in the morning, he saw the time on the dashboard of his car before he shut the engine off. Lucky he found a parking spot near the entrance, as he remembers that time Atsumu drove him to the hospital and it took them almost half an hour to find a spot.

His ringtone broke through the sound of the morning rush just as he closed the door to the driver’s seat. Plucking his mobile out of his jean pockets and holding a cup of coffee with his other hand, he answered the call, seeing ‘Omi-Omi’ on the screen.

“Yes, Om--”

“[Y/N]’s awake--”

The steaming coffee slipped from his grasp and that’s all it took for him to run through the parking lot and into the entrance. He spotted a line in the elevator so he turned a corner instead, and opted to hike seven flights of stairs to your floor, skipping two or three steps to get there faster.

His heart was beating so fast it felt like it’s going to burst out of his chest, but he ignored it. He didn’t even notice the muted ringing in his ears from the adrenaline, all he’s thinking was how he needed to see you, he needed to see you. He needed to see you he needed to see you he needed to see--

All eyes turned to him when he barged into the room.

It felt like all the air escaped his body as he stood there glued to his spot. He saw you, already seated and looking at him.

You’re looking at him.

He didn’t notice the tears streaming down his face.

He took the first step, the second, the third, and soon he found himself kneeling beside your bed, your small hand grasped into his warm and much larger pair. Holding it tight with the desperation of a man afraid to lose his only one.

And there, he let it all go. It all came crashing down on him. The tears fell even harder than before as he cried his heart out. --the panic upon seeing your unmoving body, the fear that you might not survive the operation, the horror that gripped him when they told him you were in a coma.

--the adrenaline that seized him when Sakusa called, the nervousness in his steps on his way up. The relief from seeing you awake--

“Who are you?”

His entire body stiffened upon hearing your voice. First, from the unparalleled comfort of having to hear you again after so long, but then he registered what you said.

Still sniffling, he wiped his tears with the back of his hands, only then realizing how much he cried from the moment he saw you. His brows furrowed a little in confusion, looking around the room for a bit, only then did he process the solemn looks on the faces of his friends, each one unable to look him in the eye.

“What--?” he said softly as he let his gaze go back to you. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him in an equally soft voice. “I don’t know who you are.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout from how loud your words rang in his ears. You turned your gaze away from him, pulling your hand free from his grasp as you kept your own hands clasped on your lap instead.

“Kiyoomi,” you called out with a bit of urgency, making your cousin rush to your side to give you the sense of security you needed.

The doctor cleared his throat lightly, catching his attention. Still confused and unable to wrap his head around what was happening, he stood up and walked slowly out of the room as he was escorted outside. He chanced a glimpse at your tired body just before the door shut. 

He saw Kiyoomi huddled over your form as you held onto him desperately. 

You didn’t even spare Bokuto a glance.

That was around twelve months ago, just seconds before the doctor finally told him about your condition. How the blunt force trauma to your head caused brain damage, which ultimately resulted in a version of retrograde amnesia.

But it was partial, said the doctor. The accident only seemed to have affected a few years of your life. Fortunately for you, you were able to retain your memories until some time after college. At least you didn’t have to wake up at a loss about who you are, at least you know your family, at least you remember your cousin Kiyoomi, at least at least at least at least-- but it was all just a big blur to Bokuto.

The moment he heard you remember just after college --roughly about a year after your uni grad when you tried out for pro-league, he blanked out, because that means you don’t remember him.

A year, that’s how long it’s been since you woke up. One year, one month, two weeks, and six days since the accident you were in, if he wants to be specific.

Months spent dying to engulf you in his embrace. Months spent unable to lie in bed with you beside him, to just go back to talking about nothing and everything at the same time. Months spent just visiting you in Sakusa’s loft because that’s where you’re more comfortable staying.

He respects your boundaries, but he just can’t help but miss everything about you.

He misses you. 

A lot.

But still, he thanks the world for keeping you alive. He can’t even begin to imagine what life would be for him had things taken a turn for the worse, but he doesn’t have to think about that. Again, what matters is you’re alive and well.

Even with your condition, Bokuto still believes he’s lucky to have you by his side. Well, maybe not all of you, because while you’ve slowly gotten back to some of your usual routines like work, you still don’t have an inkling of who Bokuto really was, or is supposed to be for you.

The two of you go out on dates, and on some days, you even sleep in his apartment - your shared apartment. He takes you to his games, you go to family events together and the like. But even when you spend most of your time together, you still don’t remember your Kou.

He’s thankful for your safety, but he can’t help but wish for your speedy recovery every single night. There’s not a day that has gone by where he doesn’t wish for your brain to just suddenly regain what it lost.

No matter, though, Bokuto always thinks. This is just another challenge he has to overcome, and because he knows you’re strong, he’s optimistic that you could conquer this one, even if hope seems a little bleak this time around.

But he’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes to get you back.

You’ve decided to resume training with the EJP Raijin, your home team, of course under the guidance of your personal therapist and your trainers. He’s not too worried about your safety as he personally made sure to get a therapist recommended by his most trusted coaches. Plus, Motoya trains with the EJP men’s team, so really, you’re well taken care of.

The idea was also approved by your doctors who suggested you go back to doing what you mostly did before the accident to possibly try to trigger memories to resurface.

He snaps out of his trance as he watches your practice match. Your coaches let you participate in this one even though you’re still out of commission for the league proper.

It’s just training, but the way you move reminds him of when he first saw you in action. You might not remember participating in the league, but your movement now on the court serves as a painful but very beautiful reminder of what made him fall for you in the first place.

You might not have your memories, but everything else -your focus, determination, tenacity, your strength, it’s all there, and Bokuto could do nothing but smile in his sheer awe of your person.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is for you to run straight to him after having won the practice match. Sweaty and a bit out of breath, he sees you running straight towards him.

And heavens, your smile… the smile on your face right now could light up his life forever.

He opens his arms to catch you as you jump into his hold, winding your arms around his neck to keep him in a tight hug.

“Kou!” you exclaim. “We won!”

And he freezes.

You feel him stiffen almost instantly. Bokuto’s so far into his head that he fails to register the wide smile on his own face and the tears that promptly run down his cheeks.

You remember him! You remember him you remember him you remember--

“Kou?”

He jolts from his thoughts as he looks at you expectantly. You raise your hand to wipe the tears that adorn his face, a worried frown decorating your own.

“Why are you crying?” you say as you tilt your head in confusion.

“Do you remember now?” he breathes out the words so quietly you almost don’t hear them but the moment you do, it doesn’t escape his notice how the color practically drained from your face.

“I--, Bokuto--”

It feels like his heart is being gripped by barbed wires as he registers what you just said.

Bokuto. Bokuto-- you don’t remember him. You don’t. You do not remember him. You still don’t.

And that’s all it takes for him to release you from his hold as if you had just burned him. You try to reach out to him, but he steps away from you. Shaking his head in denial? Hurt? Confusion?

He sprints away out of the gymnasium, his thoughts running wild, filling his mind with unfiltered hatred of the world.

It’s just not fair! Why is this happening to him! Why must the world be cruel when he’s done nothing but good! Why must it happen to you and him! Why? Why!

Why can’t you just remember him!

And he collapses on his knees at the deserted hallway, his sobs coming out raw and wounded. The pain of having you stare at him without recognition for a year burning his heart and seizing it with just-- just hurt.

He cries at his hatred of the world. The optimism he so absolutely and almost religiously held onto for his entire life breaking apart at his feet like shards of glass.

And like that, he also finally breaks.

A year. He tried to stay positive for a year, enduring the feeling of his beloved looking at him as if he’s a stranger, as if they didn’t share years together. As if the growth they had with each other meant nothing to the world. As if everything they shared with each other was so miniscule to just be gone because of one accident.

And so he cries and cries. He lets the anguish come out. He lets the anger and hatred and pain come out with each choked sob.

It must have been a minute, five, or maybe thirty minutes, an hour.. He doesn’t know. He heaves himself out of his slumped position to sit on the floor, and he closes his eyes as he lets his head tilt back against the cool surface of the wall. 

He’s just so tired from everything.

It’s only when he opens his eyes again does he see you standing a ways away, face fallen as if the world turned its back on you. And from the looks of it, he knows you saw his meltdown.

You approach him, taking small steps in an attempt to see if he’s going to drive you away, but he makes no move to stop you.

All the while, he keeps his tearful gaze on you as you kneel in front of him.

A fresh bout of tears breaks free from his eyes the moment you take his calloused palms into your careful hold.

“Kou,” you call his name softly. “This past year has been challenging for me… but I can’t even imagine how- how terrifying everything must have been for you.”

Your voice remains low, but he hears it loud and clear, and his heart clenches from how you’ve thought about him even when you can’t remember him.

“I know it’s not the same. I’m not the same, but Kou--,” you halt, and his eyes widen open upon seeing tears in your own pair. “I don’t remember you, but when I see you sad I-- I just can’t take seeing you sad.”

A choked sob escapes your throat, and his instincts tell him to pull you into his strong hold and he does. The warmth emanating from his body makes you relax into his familiar touch.

“I still don’t remember, and I don’t know if I ever will. And I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I just-- I’m sorry,” your cries reach his ears, and he pulls you even closer to his chest, hugging you against him to ease your pain away.

You raise your palm to caress his jaw, prompting him to look at you, and he does. He looks at you as if you’re his whole world, memories be damned. Challenges be damned. Because now, as he looks at you, as he actually looks at you, he sees the same you that he fell in love with.

“My brain doesn’t know you the way it used to, but my heart… my heart knows you, Bokuto Koutarou.”

He sees the same you that he keeps falling in love with over and over every single day of his life.

And as your lips meet in a whispered confession of love shared only between the two of you, he finally comprehends just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Memories be damned.

Challenges be damned.

But his luck? He’ll forever thank his lucky stars for bringing you into his life.

For as long as he has you by his side, he’ll forever remain the luckiest man alive.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

hi! random question that you’re not obligated to answer (i just love your ka metas): do you think that aang acted like he was entitled to katara’s affection? sorry for the bother if this is a question you’ve gotten before, i’m just curious about your thoughts

Hi anon! It’s always lovely to hear people like my metas 💛 And you’re in luck - I have not gotten this specific question before, though I have answered similar questions, and as such I will probably link those posts throughout.

Forewarning: I use the general you very liberally in this post, so like. It’s not directed at you, anon djhskdjsajs I don’t want you think my sarcasm is in response to your ask (your ask was very lovely!! 💕)

Okay. Let’s get started! The funniest thing about the (nonsensical) claim that Aang acted “entitled” to Katara’s affection is that there is no canon evidence to support it. Opponents more often than not can only bring up one (1) episode as an example of supposed “entitlement” because no other Kataang interactions in the series demonstrate entitlement from either end! Like, wow. Talk about scraping the bottom of the barrel. And I’m sure we all know what episode opponents love to propagate, don’t we?

Yep, you guessed it: “The Ember Island Players.”

From the get-go, the fact that people who vigorously oppose Kataang essentially only appeal to the contents of one episode for Aang’s supposed “entitlement” is a major indicator that, in fact, the entitlement is not truly there, and that those opponents are actually misconstruing the entire episode. I mean, if you are trying to make an argument about something but you only have one piece of “evidence” to support your claim, then a) any half-decent teacher/professor would fail you, rip and b) that’s a sign that maybe your claim doesn’t hold water. If you can’t find evidence to support it, then you’re probably looking at your case from the wrong angle. Analysis 101.

As such, I find the “entitlement” claim particularly ridiculous because opponents repeat the same faulty rhetoric over and over! The only people that might be convinced are those with confirmation bias. I’m sure that’s their audience, of course, but it’s still hilarious dfjaksdasks.

Anyways. Here’s the excerpt from the EIP transcript that opponents l o v e to spotlight with their “entitlement” claims:

Aang: Katara, did you really mean what you said in there?

Katara: In where? What are you talking about?

Aang: On stage, when you said I was just like a… brother to you, and you didn’t have feelings for me.

Katara: I didn’t say that. An actor said that.

Aang: But it’s true, isn’t it? We kissed at the Invasion, and I thought we were gonna be together. But we’re not.

Katara: Aang, I don’t know.

Aang: Why don’t you know?

Katara: Because, we’re in the middle of a war, and we have other things to worry about. This isn’t the right time.

Aang: Well, when is the right time?

Katara: Aang, I’m sorry, but right now I’m just a little confused.

Aang tries to kiss Katara.

Katara: I just said I was confused! I’m going inside. [Exits the balcony.]

Aang: Ugh, I’m such an idiot! [Puts down his head on the balcony railing.]

Opponents claim Aang’s behavior is “entitled” here for two reasons:

1) He asks Katara several questions about their relationship status.

2) He kisses her.

Before I get too far into this, we have to consider the context of the episode. Katara and Aang have this conversation after just watching 95% of “The Boy in the Iceberg,” aka Fire Nation propaganda. I have talked about the specifics of the play being imperialist propaganda here, but the gist of it is that this play is meant to demean the Gaang, to portray them as lesser and weaker than the Fire Nation. The fact that the play ends with Ozai’s victory is a stark reminder of this mentality. So: Katara and Aang have just watched this play that preys upon their insecurities and paints them as awful caricatures of their true selves. It is only natural that they would be more tense than usual. The reason I bring this up is solely to inform their conversation on the balcony, however; I don’t think their frustration solely defines what they say/do, but it’s worth keeping in mind, “Hey, they’re stressed and upset, of course this conversation might not go perfectly.”

Now, I have talked about the infamous EIP kiss before and approached all the rhetoric surrounding it like Snopes Fact Checker in this post, lmao. I did discuss in there why the kiss is wrong, which no one has ever argued against, but also why the kiss is simply a mistake: not sexual assault, not entitlement, not an unforgivable decision. I’ve copied and pasted specifically my notes on the “entitlement” claim below regarding the kiss, but if you have time, I definitely recommend the whole post jksdhjasdka (I’m quite proud of it). Anyways! Here’s the excerpt:

Claim: Aang acted entitled to Katara and her affection.

Status: False.

I’ve briefly addressed this already, but Aang backing off when Katara pushed him away is the exact opposite of entitlement. An impromptu kiss is not always indicative of entitlement. It can be, especially if the person being kissed has never expressed any interest in the person kissing them, but Katara and Aang were mutually interested in each other. They’d mutually kissed twice already by that point: in CoTL and during DoBS. The EIP kiss was inappropriate. NO ONE HAS EVER SUGGESTED OTHERWISE. But when you’re 12 and you’re already kind of in this semi-relationship with a girl you’ve been through hell and high water with (who has kissed you twice on the lips and on the cheek multiple times, not to mention it is only you she ever expresses such affection towards), it is not fucking “entitlement” to make a move on her, even when the timing is off. IT’S JUST A MISTAKE. A POOR DECISION. NOT ENTITLEMENT. NOT MANIPULATION. NOT SEXUAL ASSAULT. Full stop.

Also, these EIP people love to call Aang entitled for this kiss, but there isn’t a single peep heard from them about Zuko’s line in TSR where he demands to know what’s “wrong” with Katara, since she hasn’t forgiven him yet when everyone else has. And look. I think Zuko was just frustrated here, and that he, too, made a mistake and is obviously not irredeemable for it, but. If you’re going to argue that Aang was entitled in EIP, you’d better be ready to acknowledge the argument that Zuko was acting entitled in TSR, too. And hell, let’s take it a step further! Call Aang entitled for EIP. Call Zuko entitled for TSR. Call Sokka entitled for choosing to stay at Boiling Rock on the off chance his father would arrive, thus making Suki and Zuko feel obligated to stay behind with him, effectively putting all of them in danger. What an entitled decision, risking his friends’ lives on the 0.01% chance Hakoda would be one of the many, many possible war prisoners arriving at Boiling Rock!

Damn. That sounds ridiculous as fuck, doesn’t it?

And guess what. That’s exactly how the “Aang was entitled” arguments come across. Hate to break it to you. Trust me when I say to do yourself a favor and stop perpetuating that faulty rhetoric!

So that is what I have already assessed, lol.

To be frank, the most frustrating thing I see perpetuated is that the EIP kiss somehow ruined Aang and Katara’s relationship. But when it comes to assessing weighty issues like the notion of “entitlement” in a relationship, the fact of the matter is that you have to look at both the relationship as a whole and the context in which it is situated. Opponents never want to do that, because doing so debunks their entire (baseless) argument, lmao. Katara and Aang are best friends. And by EIP, they have both expressed romantic interest in each other multiple times. (Here is a post explaining the development of Katara’s feelings for Aang, just to put out that fire before anyone sets it lmao.)

So why, why do opponents think Katara would never find it in herself to forgive Aang for a mistaken kiss? Katara is shown over and over again throughout the series to have one of the biggest hearts. She wants to see the good in people. That’s why she gives Jet a second chance (even though a person could argue he did not “deserve” one); that’s why she helps the Fire Nation village in “The Painted Lady”; that’s why she forgives Pakku (once she sees he’s willing to change); that’s why she is the second person in the entire show (excluding Iroh) to offer Zuko a hand of kindness (in CoD)! That’s why she eventually forgives Zuko, even after all he has done to the Gaang (e.g. sending an assassin after them, being complicit in Aang’s death, attacking her and kidnapping Aang at the NWT, manipulating her with her mother’s necklace, to name a few, lmao. bless his heart, but like Jet, someone could easily argue Zuko doesn’t “deserve” another chance - and yet Katara still gave him [and Jet] one. in fact, she gave Zuko multiple).

In other words, Katara is almost always willing to extend friendship and compassion and forgiveness to others - why would she revoke that privilege from Aang after a single error that is comparatively lesser to all the other horrible things she’s experienced in the war? Again, I’m not downplaying how terrible of a decision Aang made. It’s inexcusable. But it’s not the end of the world, and considering the context of the show (e.g. Aang and Katara liked each other and they both knew it), it’s… not some heinous crime. Compared to, oh, how about attempted murder? lmaoo

Even beyond Katara’s innate kindness, Aang is Katara’s best friend. She loves him. The show portrays it as romantic through the seasons, but even if someone isn’t into shipping (which is super valid), Katara and Aang’s connection is one of the primary lynchpins of the show! (The other being Aang and Zuko, the greatest foils of all time.) Katara and Aang epitomize several of A:TLA’s thematics (and aesthetics) because they are complementary: yin and yang, push and pull, Tui and La, moon and ocean, blue and orange, water and air. This gifset and related commentary beautifully demonstrate how even when Katara and Aang disagree, they respect the other’s the decision. So after 60~ episodes depicting Aang and Katara as having mutual respect and love for each other in every form as well as emphasizing Katara’s natural inclination towards kindness/giving people the benefit of the doubt, opponents still think Katara wouldn’t forgive Aang because of one mistimed, inappropriate kiss? What?? Make it make sense, lmao.

In sum, the kiss was a mistake, not an act of entitlement, and it’s absurd to think Katara would hold that against Aang for the rest of his life.

To backtrack a bit, opponents also love to use the fact that Aang asked Katara several questions about their relationship status as examples of his “entitlement.” Just typing that out highlights the ridiculous nature of this assertion, lmao! Let me rephrase it for maximum hilarity:

“Aang was unsure about where their relationship stood? Well, how dare he ask numerous questions to resolve his confusion!”

Like, what was the alternative jskfajksdas if you are in relationship limbo with someone, it is far better to ask them ‘too many’ questions for clarification than to simply assume one way or the other! Kissing Katara was wrong, flat-out, but asking her questions to better understand where they were in their relationship was like. exactly the right decision, lmao. I genuinely don’t see how that could be indicative of entitlement? Especially because, once again, Aang and Katara both like each other and they both know that by this point in the show. That’s why Aang doesn’t ask if Katara likes him - he knows she does. That’s why Katara doesn’t negate her feelings - she knows she’s interested in him, and the blockade between them is not a lack of reciprocation, but the fact that they’re “in the middle of a war” and consequently it’s not “the right time” for them to begin a relationship. Katara has seen Aang die before! She knows he’s facing a near-impossible victory! I can’t blame her for not wanting to start a relationship with him at that point. It would hurt twice as much to lose him again if they were together in a romantic fashion (amatonormativity, am I right?). Again, Aang’s kiss was entirely inappropriate, but him asking her questions about their relationship is a) an example of fostering healthy communication and b) what any therapist would encourage, lol.

Oh, but I’m “forgetting” something, aren’t I? Right. This line:

Katara: Aang, I’m sorry, but right now I’m just a little confused.

If we want to talk about parallels, which I know the A:TLA fandom adores, this line sounds suspiciously like:

Yue: … but I like you [Sokka] too much and it’s too confusing to be around you.

Yue and Katara are actually in similar situations here. Outside forces are interfering with their relationships; for Yue, there is her arranged marriage, and for Katara, it’s the life-or-death nature of the war itself. They aren’t confused about their feelings, as Yue knows she likes Sokka and Katara knows she likes Aang, but they are confused about how to reconcile those feelings with their external circumstances. And can you blame them for that? They are facing impossible decisions (the fate of their nation and the fate of the world respectively). I would be confused, too! So Katara’s response isn’t a reaction to any so-called “entitlement” from Aang; she is experiencing genuine confusion about how to approach her own feelings for him in the midst of a war.

In sum, Aang asking questions about their relationship was a logical step to take resolving his confusion and is in no way related to “entitlement.” Katara’s confusion was not “letting Aang down easy” and interpreting it as such requires disregarding every preceding line of the conversation and its context.

As you can see, Aang’s actions in EIP are not at all “entitled.” His questions were understandable. While his kiss was inappropriate and inexcusable, it was also a mistake, and there is no canon evidence to support the conclusion Katara would never be able to forgive him (her literal best friend!) for it.

Before I end, I’ll touch briefly upon the DotBS kiss, because it is also occasionally used as an example of Aang’s “entitlement” towards Katara’s feelings. Whether you like the trope or not, this moment falls under what is called the “Now or Never Kiss.” TV Tropes actually lists Kataang/DotBS as an example under the Western Animation tab:

“Avatar: The Last Airbender: The fact that he’s finally going to face the dreaded Firelord, and possibility that he might not come back alive from that battle, gives Aang enough motivation to kiss Katara.”

Again, whether you like the trope or not, it involves reciprocation from both parties:

“The Not-A-Couple [i.e. both parties] don’t want to go out without revealing how they [i.e. both parties] really feel. It’s now or never. They kiss.”

Katara and Aang both like each other. When Aang initiates the DotBS kiss, Katara kisses him back. Her lips are still puckered when he pulls away. Furthermore, Katara had initiated a kiss with Aang prior to this incident, in CoTL. Katara was also the one to initiate every cheek kiss with Aang (who is the only character she ever demonstrated such affection towards). So Aang kissing Katara during DotBS follows an established precedent of Katara initiating different kisses, romantically inclined, with Aang. It’s not entitlement; it’s him knowing they mutually like each other and him realizing this might be the last time he ever sees her. Again, you can hate the trope, but don’t blatantly misconstrue its meaning. You’ll sound like Fire Nation propaganda, lmao. (For clarification, jic: the general you. not anon!)

Here is a fantastic post by @imreallyhereforkataang explaining the DotBS kiss in more detail as well as discussing why Kataang’s progression in the second half of Book 3 was, in fact, well-developed, and how Katara and Aang are best friends above all else and know that (which was the core of their relationship from the start).

And a bonus fun fact: in the original storyboard (link takes you to storyboarder Giancarlo Volpe’s DeviantArt with said storyboard), it is noted that Katara smiles after Aang kisses her. Why? Because she likes him as much as he likes her! It was changed by a “higher authority,” according to Volpe, probably to add more realism to the romance (i.e. Katara likes Aang, yes, but as she herself points out in EIP - there’s a war going on, and love is always terrifying to reconcile with war).

(Seriously, though, do read Volpe’s description on the storyboard. Takes you a second to scroll down and maybe a minute to read. Short yet informative, discussing how you can see on the storyboard itself that someone revised the image so Katara isn’t smiling after the kiss.)

Anyways! Opponents’ argument that Katara wasn’t interested in Aang therefore is and has always been entirely inapplicable.

To conclude: the entitlement assertion is laughable. There is no canon evidence to support it. As such, I encourage you to laugh whenever you see it! Pull an Azula, for that matter:

[ID: Gif from “The Beach” episode of A:TLA. Ty Lee, mimicking a guy, asks Azula, “Hey there sweet sugar cakes. How ya likin’ this party?” Azula proceeds to burst into exaggerated laughter, earning stares from everyone else at the party. End ID.]

Thank you for the great ask, anon! Hopefully my response was satisfactory 💛

[scripts4dreamers]

I literally JUST sat down, pt.2

Part One, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven

AN: The case stalls, but no one’s willing to give up on you just yet. Characters: Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi.

Pairings: Spencer Reid x reader

Spoilers: None

Warnings: Mentions of crime and violence, alcohol

(Again! Massive shoutout to @pirateismywayofspeaking​ for the constant support and ideas! And lemme know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

—————————-

It’s a well known fact that there are three certainties in life; death, taxes and the willpower of one Penelope Garcia. In less than an hour she had somehow organized to get all your clothes and personal possessions delivered right to the BAU, packed in your favorite suitcases and all. A couple of things had to be kept in evidence because the UnSub might have come into contact with them, but all the important stuff was there. It was comforting, having your stuff safe with you and, as you sat through the long and rigorous process of being interviewed, you felt better.

“And you’re 100% sure that none of your employees could have possibly done this?” Rossi asked, “Maybe someone you recently fired? Or someone who has a history of violence?”

You gave him an incredulous look, “Rossi, come on. Do you really think I’d be stupid enough to hire someone with a violent past?”

“You checked everyone out?”

“Full background checks on all three employees,” you agreed, “the harshest thing on any of their records was a parking ticket and a decade old charge for underage drinking.”

Hotch sighed, rubbing his temples right where you knew he got headaches.

“We know the poem is significant to the UnSub. It’s an old love poem, so it’s got to be someone who has some sort of connection to you,” he repeated, “it's personal.”

You shook your head, “Hotch, I don’t know what to tell you. I haven’t had a romantic relationship in years. There’s not a lot of time when you work 14 hour days.”

“Don’t we know it,” Rossi agreed, “so, a stalker, maybe?”

“That’s a hell of a way to make first contact,” you scoffed, “a phone call would be less risky.”

“And less effective.”

You conceded the point with a head tilt, and then looked back at Hotch, “Hotch, can we take a break? We’ve been at this for hours.”

“Of course,” he agreed, “get some rest, Y/L/N.”

“No, it’s okay, there’s work to be done here. I can stay,” you assured, stretching your stiff limbs.

Hotch shot you a look, but said nothing, obviously sensing that you weren’t going to give in without some sort of fight. Instead, he just gave you a terse nod, and walked out, leaving you with Rossi.

“You’re impossible, you know that, right?” He said.

You smiled, shrugging, “What can I say, Ros? I learned from the best.”

He chuckled, shaking his head and ruffling your hair as he walked past you, “Good to have you back, kid.”

The bullpen was busy when you walked back in, suitcases in hand, striding your way over to your old desk. It’s scary how little had really changed in the year since you’d been gone. Aside from Spencer’s semi-annual hair evolution, everything was the same; the smells, the sights, even the comforting clack of Garcia’s heels against the floor. It was comforting, almost painfully so but, as you reached your old desk, you noticed something was wrong.

“Whose stuff is this?” You asked, gesturing to the stacks of files and piles of paper scattered all over the surface.

“Mine,” Emily said, not even looking up from her work.

“But...you have a desk,” you pointed out.

“And now I have two,” she replied simply, “you can sit somewhere else.”

She was being stubborn and you felt a lick of irritation flare up inside your chest. Emily Prentiss had been one of your closest friends for years and, when you’d left the BAU, she’d taken it the hardest. Any other time, you would have understood her resentment but, given the circumstances, you weren’t feeling particularly generous.

You crossed your arms over your chest, “And where do you suggest I sit?”

Emily shrugged and gave you a sickly sweet smile, “You can share with Reid.”

You felt yourself flush with heat. Emily had known about your feelings for Spencer, she’d even encouraged you to act on them. You knew she’d never actually betray your trust, but even that subtle dig was enough to make you want to argue. You opened your mouth but, before you could say anything, Spencer interrupted.

“Here, Y/N,” he smiled, patting a spot beside him, “I’ve got space.”

You pressed your lips together, but relented when he took the time to pull an empty chair over for you to sit in.

“Thanks, Reid,” you said, taking the offered seat.

“So, did you and Hotch figure anything out?” Spencer asked.

You shook your head, “Nothing we didn’t already know. Rossi thinks it might be some kind of stalker?” You offered.

Spencer frowned, “A stalker? That doesn’t make any sense, what kind of stalker starts off their pursuit with a murder?”

“A very, very desperate one.” Emily offered.

You wanted to snap something like; ‘oh, so now you’re talking to me?’ but you bit your tongue. You knew you were on edge, and now wasn’t the time to lash out at the only people who could really help you.

“Or very deranged.” Spencer suggested

You shuddered, picturing a faceless man in all black running his blood soaked hands across your walls, drawing a jagged smiley face above your bed, memorizing the faces in your pictures. You exhaled and pushed the thought away.

“Does this even count as an escalation?” You asked, “I’m not sure there’s really anywhere to go from here.”

You were met with stony silence as Emily and Spencer inspected their respective files. You knew what they were thinking, what everyone was thinking; whatever this was, it was bad news.

“Do we know who our victim is, yet?” Spencer asked.

“Nope,” you sighed, “the UnSub burned off his fingerprints and removed several of his molars before he dumped the body, the ME is doing her best to get a DNA match, but it’ll take time.”

“The mutilation is odd, considering there wasn’t any evidence of torture on the victim before they died,” Spencer said.

“It’s gotta be a forensic countermeasure,” Emily agreed, “but it’s extremely sophisticated. Our UnSub must have experience with law enforcement.”

“But as a perp or a cop?”

You sighed and buried your head in your hands, letting the familiar back and forth wash over you like white noise. You’d had this conversation before, many many times, and it never got any easier. Usually you lived for the puzzle but, now that you were the one under scrutiny, it felt like your brain was rebelling against you.

“Y/N/N?” Spencer asked, touching your shoulder gently and snapping back to reality.

“Mm?” You replied.

His face softened as he took in the exhaustion radiating off your body.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Just a little drained, that’s all.”

The clicking of heels against the floor drew your attention and you looked up just in time to see Garcia swooping in with her purse.

“You ready to go, crime fighter?” She smiled.

“Go where?” You asked,

“Home!” She smiled, “I have the honor and privilege of hosting you tonight.”

“Garcia-“ you started.

“No! No arguing.” She insisted, “I’ve already found us a lovely little Thai place for dinner, and there’s a bunch of episodes of Buffy the Vampire Slayer lined up on my DVR.”

You groaned, rolling your eyes fondly, “I hate how well you know me.”

She smiled devilishly, “Sounds good, right?”

“It sounds incredible and you know that because you’re a super genius who knows literally everything.” You teased, pushing yourself onto your feet, “Okay, Wonder Woman, let’s go.”

As you made your way out of the office, you cast one last look over your shoulder, smiling when Spencer met your eye and gave you a small wave.

————————-

“Okay, Sugar Plum, spill,” Penelope pushed, handing you a full glass of wine, “how’re you really doing?”

“With what?”

Penelope shot you an incredulous look, “With, you know, all of it. The murder, the mystery, being back at work, the Spencer Reid of it all.”

You spluttered through a sip of wine, “The what? ‘Nel, you can’t be serious.”

“What? I’m just asking,” she insisted, “he followed you out earlier, you’re sharing a desk now...it wouldn’t be crazy if maybe your old crush came creeping back in.”

“Penelope” you started, “some creep dropped a dead body in my bookstore and broke into my apartment and you think I’m thinking about Spencer?” She didn’t answer, just raising her eyebrows and you sighed, sliding down the couch, “Okay so I’m pathetic.”

“No you’re not!” She insisted, “You guys were like two peas in a pod, back in the day. Plus, you’ve seen like a thousand dead bodies, you’re probably just desensitized.”

“Still,” you sulked, “I can’t believe I’m still thinking about Spence.”

“Naaaaaaaaw,” she swooned, squeezing your knee, “you called him ‘Spence’, you haven’t done that in ages.”

“Fuck off, Nel” you said without any real malice, burying your face in your hands and sighing again, “please tell me I’m being ridiculous.”

Garcia smiled, a knowing glint in her dark blue eyes as she sipped her wine and watched you squirm. She’d kept in touch with you when you left the BAU, insisting on weekly brunch meetups and girls nights and a million other things that you’re not sure you would’ve survived without. She’d been like a lifeline in those first few months and, because of that, she was the only one who really knew how hard leaving had been for you. She’d been the one who sat through the hours of crying and panicking and wondering who you were without your job, who’d held your hand when you went to get a small business loan, who’d sampled your cookie recipes and helped you design uniforms. Penelope Garcia had been there for all of it. You had a photo of the two of you together at the bookstore next to your bed. It was one of your most treasured possessions.

“Now, Sugar Plum, you know I’ve always had a soft spot for you and the Boy Wonder. He’s lovely, you’re lovely; he loves you, you love him, I love you both, it’s a match made in FBI heaven as far as I’m concerned-“

“But?” You prompted with a rueful smile.

“But,” Penelope agreed, “he took it really hard when you left, and I’m not sure how he’ll handle losing you a second time.”

You frowned, “He never lost me. None of you lost me, I just got a different job! It’s not my fault that basically no one bothered to keep in touch.”

Penelope’s face softened and she smiled at you sympathetically, “Pumpkin, you know it’s not like that. When you’re in the BAU, it’s like we’re living in our own little crime bubble, everything outside just kind of….fades, you know?”

“I know…”

“And with Spencer, well, you know he’s never been the best at dealing with abandonment, the poor thing’s been through so much already,” Penelope continued, “he tried to keep in touch. He really did, and he talked about you all the time.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

She sighed, “I don’t know. I guess I just-“ she shrugged and squeezed your knee again, “I don’t want you to think that he forgot about you, that’s all.”

You felt a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gripped Garcia’s hand.

“Thanks, Nel.”

You knew she was right. Life in the BAU wasn’t like life on the outside; you lived by different rules, took different risks, valued different things. It was strange and intoxicating and you really couldn’t fault your teammates for continuing to play the game the way they always had. You’d chosen to leave and you had to live with the consequences of that.

“Can we talk about something besides boys now, please?” You asked, “I want this girl’s night to pass the bechdel test.”

She smiled and clapped her perfectly manicured hands, “Oh do not fret, ma Cherie because I’ve got so much to catch you up on-“

You listened with rapt attention as Garcia filled you in on the last twelve months of FBI gossip. You laughed together, ate Thai food and just relaxed together. With every Perfectly Penelope story, you felt a little more of your tension slip away and, by the time you made it to bed, you were feeling almost normal.

Penelope had made up the couch for you, complete with pillows and blankets and a homemade quilt. It was comfortable, too comfortable. So comfortable, that your brain had way too much time to mull over what Penelope had said earlier.

Spencer hadn’t just forgotten about you. What did that mean? He’d taken it hard when you left...the questions bounced around your mind like wasps, keeping you awake. Without meaning to, your mind started to drift, sifting through the years worth of memories you’d kept locked away in a box in the back of your mind.

————————

“You are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met,” you laughed, “I’m fine, Spence.”

“You’re not fine, Y/N, you got shot.” Spencer reminded you, his eyes still sparkling with the relief of seeing you alive and in good spirits.

You were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a throbbing pain resonating from the wound in your shoulder as the police searched through the nearby crime scene and Spencer inspected your face. It was cold and dark, but the sirens and flashing lights meant that it was anything but peaceful, and you knew it would still be many hours before either you or Spencer got any sleep.

“Yeah well, we’ve all been shot,” you pointed out, “and, statistically speaking, we have a 100% survival rate.”

Spencer rolled his eyes, but he was smiling so you knew he wasn’t too mad.

“You’re bastardizing my beautiful statistical analysis and using it for evil. Remind me why I’m bothering to check on you, again?” He teased.

“Because you loooooove me,” you teased back, jostling his shoulder with yours, “and because I just took a bullet to the shoulder for you.”

He chuckled but avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes, “Yeah that would explain it.”

Something in the atmosphere changed and you looked over at Spencer, noticing the way he worried at the inside of his cheek with his hands in his pockets. His brow was furrowed too, like he was sad, and something in your chest pinched.

“You alright there, doc?” You asked.

“Don’t do it again,” he said, looking up and catching your eye.

You paused, “don’t do what?”

“Take a bullet to the shoulder for me,” he explained, “get hurt trying to protect me. Promise me you won’t do it again?”

You pressed your lips together, recognizing the same feeling of fear and guilt in Spencer that you, yourself, felt any time someone you cared about was in danger. You reached out, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and giving it a gentle squeeze before letting go. Spencer held on for a second longer, his dark eyes filling with something as he took you in.

“You know I can’t promise that, Spence,” you said gently, “if we’re ever in a situation like this again….no way I’m just letting you die to avoid a couple of stitches.”

“No, you don’t-” he paused, getting himself worked up, “you don’t get it. I watched my girlfriend get shot right in front of me, I-I’ve lost so many people that I care about, Y/N, and I can’t lose anyone else. Not for something as stupid as my own life.” 

“Your life isn’t some insignificant thing, Spence,” you insisted, “it’s important! To me, to the team, to everyone. We’re a family, Spencer, families have each other’s backs. Always.” 

He took a deep breath and nodded, carding his fingers through his hair like he was agitated. 

“Just-” he started again, “just promise me you won’t do it again.” 

“I can’t.” you insisted, “I can’t make that promise. 

He turned to face you, looking more tired than you’d seen him in weeks, “Then promise you’ll be careful. Promise me I won’t lose you too?” 

Your heart ached, and you longed to reach out and wrap him up in your arms, but you restrained yourself. 

“How about this; I’ll promise that you won’t lose me, if you promise that we’ll always be best friends, and that you’ll try to start valuing your own life as much as you value mine or Morgan’s, deal?” You offered, extending your hand for Spencer to shake.

Spencer frowned, opening his mouth to argue but, before he could, an agent interrupted.

“Agent Y/L/N? Dr. Reid? Agent Hotchner is looking for you.”

———————————-

You snapped back to reality with a jolt, and realised you were lonely. So much time had passed since that night, but you remembered it all perfectly, every detail. It wasn’t an especially meaningful night, there were a million moments just like it, but something about it had stuck. Maybe it was the potential, the wondering, that thing that he never got to say. You wish you’d gotten to hear it now.  

You fumbled around in the dark for your cellphone, typing out a message and pressing send before you could think better of it. It was short, and to the point, and you would be shocked if he responded but, once it was done, you felt something in your chest loosen, like maybe you’d been wanting to send that message for a really long time.

To Spencer Reid:  Hey, Reid? I’m sorry I left, I never meant to break my promise. 

With the heavy weight of remembering suddenly lifted, you realised how tired you were, and you let sleep drag you under. If you’d stayed awake a little longer, you might not have missed the way Spencer kept typing, typing, typing away some message he never sent. Or the eventual response, which only came in three hours later: 

You never broke your promise, Y/N. I broke mine.

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

Taglist: @ourfavoritesergeantbarnes​, @confused-and-really-hungry, @word-scribbless​, @reidloversisforever​, @ashookykooky​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @shilohpug​, @tangerinenotions95​, @petitchatonbleu​

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Argo ch. 1

Friday the 13th - Friendship/Romance - Jason Voorhees/OC M/M ship

2897 words, 3rd person POV

This is not following canon closely at all and I'm kinda blending bits of Jason's personality between original movies, the remake, and fan versions so this is pretty solidly AU. I hope you enjoy!

Cross-posting on FFN under PyroTheWereCat

There was no pleasure in killing. It was a task, like any other, but one that had to be done adequately. Even if it took several tries and the body was mangled by the end of it, the life had to be gone from their eyes.

"We can't have them coming back to hurt us, can we?"

Mother was right. Mother was always right. She was the only one who cared. She was the only one who knew kindness. It was her idea and her decision to take revenge against the wicked counselors of Camp Crystal Lake, and what she wanted, she would get.

She had nearly died herself trying to punish the ones responsible for her son's drowning, and so the pair needed to live in hiding, deep in the woods surrounding the camp. It took over ten years of teaching and training, but it was finally time. Mother knew best, and Jason Voorhees was willing to serve her every command.

Four years ago, Jason began his killing spree. He picked off the counselors one by one, catching each in a deadly infraction. He worked carefully at first, making the disappearances look like believable shirking of duties or horrible accidents. That year, authorities ruled the camp could reopen for the next season with some extra safety precautions. Jason was praised so lovingly that year.

The second year, Jason continued his streak, but allowed himself to get a little sloppy. The murders were attributed to one of the staff members, and no one was the wiser to his presence (or, more importantly, his mother's). The camp was forcibly closed for the following season, and Jason's mother prayed it would stay closed and they could be free of the evil of the counselors who knew no compassion.

But, as an investigation cleared the camp of outside interference, further cementing the falsely accused staff member as the murderer, Crystal Lake reopened for another season, forcing Jason out of hiding once more. He did not want to go back, having enjoyed the peaceful summer with his mother last year, but he knew he had a job to do. He dusted off his mask, sharpened his machete, and set out for Camp Crystal Lake once more.

This year already felt different for Jason. Perhaps it was the time off, or perhaps he was growing tired of killing, but this year he decided to approach things in a different way. He spent the first two weeks of camp watching from the shadows, identifying the counselors and their habits. There were eight of them: four men, four women. Their ages were uncertain, but it seemed the youngest was about seventeen and the oldest was about twenty-five, the majority being roughly twenty-one. College age, Mother had said, was the worst age for most folks. Leftover rebellion from their adolescence and newfound freedom created a sinful breeding ground for debauchery and cruelty that needed to be punished. Jason was of this age now as well, and he had promised to not let himself lose sight of his task.

During the weeks Jason watched the camp, he noticed a few important details. First, he noticed that ghost stories about the murders he and his mother had committed were being told at nightly bonfires, embellished to near supernatural lengths. This excited Jason to some degree, seeing that his hard work had noticeable impact years later. Second, he noticed there were no hikes on the outer trails and strict curfews were imposed on both the campers and the counselors, keeping the grounds barren between the hours of 9PM and 7AM. This rule would make Jason's work difficult if he planned on making any of these deaths appear accidental, but he could improvise if needed.

The third detail, and the most curious of all, Jason noticed that out of all eight counselors, one stood out as unique. The first distinctive feature was that he was shorter than the rest of his coworkers, somewhere close to five feet tall. Jason almost mistook him for a camper at first, but the back of his shirt clearly read 'COUNSELOR'. What truly set him apart from the rest, however, was how attentive he was to the campers. He made sure every voice was heard and no one felt left out. He kept a bright and supportive demeanor no matter the circumstances, and helped the campers with every activity. Furthermore, he did not seem interested in sneaking off to sacrifice his job duties in favor of more lecherous behavior. Jason found himself growing fascinated with this counselor, and opted to watch him a little more closely to see if he had any damning secrets that would confirm his impending death with the rest.

Another week dragged on, and Jason regrettably had lost track of time. He followed this seemingly kind counselor as he engaged the children in their activities and lent a listening ear to those who had problems or concerns. What could he be hiding? Mother was certain that anyone who took a job at this camp was a bad person, and Mother was always right...right?

"Alright, everyone!" the strange counselor called one morning, catching the attention of his group, "It's Friday tomorrow, and that means s'mores night!"

He allowed for a brief cheer from the kids before quieting them down again to continue,

"S'mores are really nice, aren't they?" Whoops and words of agreement rose from the group. "Do we agree that nice kids deserve to have nice treats?" More affirmations rang out. "That's right! But it's come to my attention, as well as the other counselors, that there's been some of you who haven't been as nice as they should be."

Jason leaned forward from his seated vantage point on a log, listening curiously to the counselor's teaching moment. Would he punish the whole group of kids for a minority's bad behavior? Would he revoke s'mores privileges? Would he try to drown some of the children in the lake? That last one was unlikely, but the thought still crossed Jason's mind. The counselor continued,

"Here at Camp Crystal Lake, we value honesty, teamwork, and what else?"

"Accountability," the children chorused.

"Exactly right," he praised, "And if one of us is being picked on, it's up to the rest of us to help them feel included, right?"

"Right!"

The counselor clapped his hands together, smiling kindly at the group.

"I don't want anyone to feel like they're in trouble, so we're gonna make this into a game, okay?" he proposed, "We're all detectives looking for clues on whodunnit. We have to solve the mystery of who's being a bully and have them apologize by tomorrow night, or all the s'mores will have to go away until next week. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes," the kids answered, somewhat anxious now that the promised snacks might be withheld.

"Awesome! Here are the rules of the game: you can't force someone to give you a clue if they don't want to. That would defeat the purpose of the game! You also can't point any fingers until the bonfire is lit tomorrow night. If the person who was mean wants to come forward on their own, they have to come to me or one of the other counselors so it doesn't spoil the end of the game. Once the person is revealed, they have to apologize to the person they hurt and will spend the weekend making it up to them because, here at Camp Crystal Lake, we want everyone to have a great time. If one of us isn't having a good time, we all have to work together to help them so we can leave here at the end of the summer with the best memories and the best friends. So let me hear it from you guys: are we ready to go out and have a great day?"

The kids burst into another round of cheers and the counselor shepherded them off to their first activity of the day. Jason propped his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin in his hand. He frowned in contemplation. This counselor was so dedicated to the kids...could he be an exception? Could Jason's mother have been wrong? He would have to catch this counselor alone to find out more. He still had plenty of time to dispatch the whole staff, he figured, so he had the time to learn what he could about this one counselor.

Jason stalked the counselor over the next few hours, watching him be the perfect role model for the kids as usual. Finally, sometime near midday, the counselor took a break after passing his group to another and announced he was going to check the nearest hiking trail for debris before he took the kids on it later. One of the female counselors offered to walk with him, and Jason detected signs of flirtation in her body language, but he refused, claiming it would be a short trip. Jason felt his heart beat faster with anticipation, following him just out of sight as he walked the trail, moving any large sticks or rocks from the path. Jason flexed his fingers on the hilt of his machete, wondering if he should kill him now despite having no evidence yet that he was a bad person. He resolved he would wait until they were far enough away from the camp where screams would not carry, then he would decide.

The counselor moved at a brisk and energetic pace, enjoying his time alone. He seemed so full of life and vigor...Jason almost felt bad that he was planning on murdering him. The counselor stopped at a fallen branch blocking the path and looked it over, his hands on his hips.

"That's a big one," he commented to himself, "I hope I can get it out of the way on my own."

With that he bent down to lift one end of the branch, stepping backwards to drag it off the trail. From Jason's position, he could see another, smaller branch on the ground behind the counselor, twisted and gnarled, but big enough to pose a hazard. Jason watched as the counselor caught his foot on the hidden branch and tumbled backwards, rolling through the leaves and sticks as he fell down the slope. He went over a slanted rock near the bottom and crumpled on the other side of a rotting log, his ankle caught in a hole in the log. Jason slowly approached, minding his steps down the slope so he would not fall as well.

The counselor grunted in pain as he pushed himself up on his elbows and attempted to free his leg from the log. He had dirt on his face and debris in his hair and, as Jason drew closer and could see more clearly, cuts and scrapes all over his arms and legs. Unsuccessful in his attempts, the counselor fell back on his elbows, breathing hard. He craned his neck to look over the log, having heard the approaching footsteps, and his eyes met Jason's, mere feet away.

"Oh my gosh, you startled me!" he greeted, "Thank goodness someone else was on the trail! I'm okay, by the way, I'm just a little stuck. Can you help me out?"

Jason froze as the counselor addressed him. Oddly enough, he didn't seem afraid, despite Jason's hulking stature, out of place hockey mask, and freshly sharpened blade in hand. He tilted his head to one side, puzzled. He hadn't been this close to another person (aside from his mother) in almost two years, but he distinctly remembered every person he had been this close to fearing him on sight. He looked down at his machete, wondering what was holding him back from stabbing this man and walking away. It was all so easy before...

"Ooh, yes, you came prepared!" the counselor said, noticing the machete as well, "If you're careful, you can probably hack around the opening so I can get my foot loose. If you want, I can get you some free food back at camp for helping me out. It's not much, but Miriam makes a mean chicken salad."

He smiled up at Jason, and Jason felt his heart stop for a moment. There was not a single flicker of fear in the counselor's eyes. All he could see was the same gentle expression shown to the kids back at camp. An unfamiliar feeling came over Jason and, for the first time in years, he felt compelled to help. He raised the machete, his eyes focused on the counselor's trapped leg. His breathing hitched, one part of his mind urging him to kill as Mother instructed, the other begging him to show mercy, just this once. He glanced back at the counselor's face, at that warm smile, and made his choice.

The machete swung down and struck the wood of the log, sending a spray of splinters into the air. The counselor winced, shielding his eyes from the shower, and tried to wiggle his leg loose.

"Still a little stuck," he announced, "I think one more whack on the other side oughta do it."

Jason wrenched the blade out of the wood and swung again on the other side of the counselor's leg. As predicted, the counselor was able to maneuver himself out of the weakened structure. He brushed the splinters and dirt off of his skin and shakily stood up, clearly in some pain from the fall.

"Thank you," he said to Jason, his smile returning, "Really, I would have been in some trouble if you weren't here, so thanks a lot. My name's Lijah."

He extended a hand to Jason to shake, but Jason was too caught off guard by his own response to the situation as well as Lijah's genuine friendliness to return the gesture. Lijah lowered his hand, unfazed by the lack of reaction.

"Not a talker, huh? That's okay," he noted, then became visibly nervous, "Oh, cripes, I'm sorry, are you deaf?"

He made some strange hand movements with that last sentence, gesturing to Jason and to his own ear. Jason shook his head, slowly coming out of his confusion.

"Ah, gotcha," Lijah said, relaxing, "That works for me. I'm not very good at signing."

He laughed at this, and Jason felt a pang of....something. Lijah's laugh was light and pleasant sounding...it reminded Jason of dappled sunlight through trees. He couldn't explain it, but he wanted to stay near Lijah for a while longer.

"In all seriousness, what is your name?" Lijah asked, "I'd like to know who my hero is."

Hero. That wasn't a word Jason thought would ever be associated with him, but it felt surprisingly good to hear Lijah call him that. He looked around himself for a moment, then up the slope at the trail. He motioned for Lijah to follow him and made his way up to the flatter part of the forest floor. Lijah had some slight difficulty following him, being so much smaller and having mild injuries, but he made it up the slope all the same. Jason waited until Lijah had caught his breath and stood next to him. He held his machete out to the ground and drew the letters of his name into the dirt. Lijah read the name aloud once he had finished and looked up at Jason brightly.

"Jason!" he chirped with delight, "Like the Argonaut in Greek mythology!"

Jason tilted his head, frowning. His mother had told him many stories as he grew up, but they were all from the Bible. He wasn't familiar with the character Lijah was referencing, and Lijah could see his bewilderment.

"He's a hero in his story," he explained, "well, for the most part. He goes on adventures with his crew and they see and do all kinds of amazing things together."

Jason nodded, liking the sound of this hero with the same name as himself. And the fact that he was not entirely virtuous...that struck a chord with him. He gestured to Lijah, who seemed to understand that he was asking about his name.

"I was originally supposed to be Elijah," he said, emphasizing the 'e' at the beginning, "but my little sister had trouble saying the whole name, so I changed it to just Lijah. By itself, I don't think it means anything special, but it's pretty special to me."

Jason stared at Lijah. How was he so good-natured? Even with an intimidating stranger like Jason, he managed to keep his upbeat attitude and unselfish way of speaking. Was he stupid or genuinely that benevolent?

"Hey, walk with me back to camp," Lijah encouraged, setting off in that direction, "I owe you lunch."

Jason felt a small stab of panic and shook his head. He looked over his shoulder and back at Lijah, who nodded.

"You've got somewhere to be - that's fine! Don't worry about it, big guy! But, if you find yourself back this way, come find me at counselor cabin 5 and I'll get you a meal to pay you back for helping me. Thanks again!"

He waved goodbye before turning and walking back towards the camp, the pep in his step dampened only slightly by the soreness in his legs. Jason watched him go and wondered wildly what had just happened. Had he somehow accidentally made a friend?

[variousqueerthings]

Tory Nichols Is Not Okay (and other predictable book-titles)

I’ve been trying to figure out some things around Tory that make me very protective of her as a character + hopeful for more in-depth writing of her character in upcoming seasons.

1. within the story she differs from literally every other main in that she’s the single character without a support network to fall back on. Even Robby, who’s having A Tough Fucking Time, could theoretically have a moment where he figures out that Kreese (and probably Silver once he’s in the picture) is the fucking worst and Daniel, Johnny, Shannon, and Amanda would want him to come back, hell I imagine that next season will have Daniel and Johnny thinking a lot about how exactly to convince Robby to give them a second chance - as of end season 3, Tory hasn’t got anyone fighting in her corner at all.

This isn’t in the sense of characters competing about trauma or who-has-it-worse or who’s more likely to become a villain or anything. It’s just something interesting I’ve noted, because there’s never been a character like her in the movies or the show, one who is going through stuff quite as bad as what she’s being presented as going through: No support, no money, no friends.

2. I find it interesting that she doesn’t (at the moment) have any direct connection to either Daniel or Johnny - the two cores of the show. Sure she was Johnny’s student for a hot second, but I don’t think they had a single meaningful interaction.

She interacted with Aisha first, which - when they wrote Aisha off the show (actually probably the thing I most disagree with in this story, because it left several question marks hanging in the air) - meant that the first grounding element she had in the story was lost.

Then she interacted with Sam and I think the core of their rivalry - that Sam represents everything Tory can’t have VS the complicated mix of privilege (which I’m hoping will be brought up) + the way Cobra Kai took her best friend and boyfriend from her + everything she’s internalised from Daniel - is really really cool and some of Tory’s strongest moments come from that, because the two play off each other so well and this show is all foils and nemeses. Hopefully the show won’t try to simplify this into “boyfriend troubles.”

Then there’s Miguel Which, obviously there’s some complicated stuff going on there, but in the end, beyond jilted lovers, I personally find her actual relationships with Aisha and Sam more interesting, although the general sense of “oh great, betrayed again, why did I think anything different would happen” + at the same time getting an insight into something inherently self-destructive, (in that she deliberately went for a guy she knew wasn’t over his ex) has some good elements to it.

(there’s Hawk as well, but that’s more casual-trauma-friendship-with-a-dose-of-egging-each-other-on, the two of them aren’t really close).

And lastly there’s Kreese. Who is. The only person who knows what she’s going through. We have one episode with a couple of scenes + a handful of comments that indicate where she’s at and where she’s at is not good. 

3. Tory is maybe a tough sell right off the bat, because of several factors: she’s mainly angry and violent, she’s (as stated above) not emotionally connected to the two leads and her only other relationships right now are antagonistic or written off the show or... Kreese. Robby is going to be there in season 4 which’ll offer some nice opportunities, but for the moment they’re pretty much strangers.

She was introduced later than anyone else we’ve got right now (characters from the movies notwithstanding, but we do already know those + they are connected to Daniel) and her first meaningful interaction was with Aisha, who, I will reiterate, I feel should not have been written off the darn show, but I digress. There was some really interesting interaction going on between her and Aisha and failing to make good on that kind of meant that there was a sense of floatiness to Tory’s first introduction - suddenly this relationship doesn’t matter, oh okay I guess? Reboot. 

That being said I think she’s a very bold addition to the show and I’m curious about where the story will go with Tory next, since imo her first two seasons were about building her character to a point where she could become an Antagonist with some hidden depths. 

I’m expecting based on the first three seasons of the show that those depths will be revisited and respected.

4. I think I’m hoping for Sam to realise what’s going on there, for Sam to try and help, for Sam to realise that, actually, Tory’s problems extend faaaar beyond her and she was more like the straw that broke the camel’s back. I’d like this as well because while it might’ve been a weakness before that Tory wasn’t connected to Daniel or Johnny, now that can become a strength - the story can really start to move beyond them and into the ways that the younger characters interact with each other in a more forgiving + healing + understanding way (using their lessons, which... might? become more unified now? perchance? since they’re on the same side for the first time in... ever?)

I’d like for another adult to get involved there, but I’d absolutely love it if the first steps came from Sam and Tory, rather than Daniel or Johnny or any other adult noticing this kid needs some help. It’d be sad and hopeful all at once for them to have the realisation that sometimes kids just fall through the cracks, but then Tory can be supported by her peers first and foremost.

I wouldn’t necessarily say this needs to happen in season 4, but the sympathy extended to characters like Hawk, Robby, Johnny, Daniel, etc. in the writing needs to be extended to her as well. And for that to happen she needs to connect with someone other than Kreese.

Also, of course, Tory and Robby are going to be Sadness Bros next season, pretty sure they have horror stories to tell each other while they bond - I’m hoping this doesn’t become a romantic relationship, but it’s a show that likes its romantic relationships, so we’ll see. Fingers crossed. (also if Tory should be dating anyone it’s Aisha, right????) Point is, that’ll obviously give her more grounding with another main that isn’t I’M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!

I think this is where the initial elements of those aforementioned depths can be explored more thoroughly. Robby wouldn’t just be willing to listen - he’d be the first character to really Get It. He’ll probably be the first person to understand her and so the first protagonist we’ll get to really relate to her through (again, to me Miguel doesn’t count, he didn’t know her at all). 

Anyway I want for Sam and Tory to become the ultimate remixed version of Daniel and Johnny, in that they fully cannot stand each other for X amount of the runtime, only to find common ground at the last moment and perchance do some gay, friendly karate matching. 

(Also Tory’s bi, right? Yeah, Tory’s bi. I see your flannel!)

Tory has the potential to be a great slow-burn character, so I’m excited!