#and those acting choices were never questioned nor stopped

[harbingerofsoup]

if we weren’t supposed to ship spirk then why did they just let shatner constantly look at leonard nimoy like he wanted to jump him

[l4zyb0n35]

HOLD ME AGAIN

ANGST-FLUFF FIC

PAIRING: Alastor x Reader

SUMMARY: Alastor has been neglecting you recently ever since a fight, and it gets to you.

WARNINGS: GN!reader (i think), usage of Y/N, Emotional Distress, Mental Health Issues, Self Harm but not physical, Depiction of strained communication, Intense emotional scenes, Brief mention of Physical discomfort, Subtle mention of codependency, really good writing skills, Overall angst but major fluff at the end because you will never see me write angst w/o fluff. Lmk if i missed anything.

NOTICE: please don't copy or steal or translate any of my work or you will be haunted in your dreams and i will spawn something unpleasant at your porch the next day. But...thanks for liking my work !! >.< Based off this post i posted an hour ago. Damn that means this was written in an hour. Property of @l4zyb0n35 and @genderlessdude92

Requests are open, support is highly appreciated!

WORDS: 1.4k

〰ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ..。.:*･ﾟ♫₊ ♪ *♬‧₊enjoy!~

You and Alastor loved each other.

That’s how it all began, too.

the two of you meeting, and at first sight, when those feelings sprawled in your hearts at eye contact,

you guys knew there was a connection.

So, what was happening now?

Well, you were sitting in bed…spacing out into the bayou. You couldn’t sleep because there was a light on, and it usually bothered you whenever you were going to sleep.

You were tired from today though.

But you couldn’t ask Alastor to turn it off, as he kept it on to sit in bed and write his script.

“…Alastor…how long are you going to be…writing your script tonight?” You looked over at him.

Nothing.

He ignored your question. His pen stopped writing for a moment, but nothing more than that as he continued on seconds later.

You felt like a failure.

When did this all start?

Alastor has been ignoring you for a while now- well- i wouldn’t say ignoring you…no, you’ve been feeling useless around him for a while.

It started after you guys had a fight about safety and how you were scared to lose him.

That was the topic.

It was settled, you forgave each other, Although he didn’t seem to forgive you deep down, you just needed to hear it.

And then he just started acting like this.

You hate comparing your relationship from before to now.

Alastor would stay in his office with the light on until he was done so you would sleep.

You would always conversate with Alastor before laying down for slumber.

Alastor would always know whenever you were upset, he would keep hearing about it until you burst.

“Hey.”

You snapped out your thoughts. You turned to Alastor,

“Yeah?”

“…You okay? You just…” He looked at your cheek and then back to your eye contact, “Have a tear down your cheek.”

“…I don’t know-no, it’s nothing.” You stammered out.

“…okay.” He went back to writing.

…You couldn’t stay here.

Quickly, you got up from your bed and walked over to the bathroom, trying to keep your composure as you closed the door and locked it.

You turned off the light,

Laid in the tub,

and slept.

***

You woke up to knocking.

“Y/N? Are you in there?”

Alastor.

You quickly sat up from the tub, “Coming, coming.” You stood up in a haste, ignoring the dizziness in your vision from it, and quickly opened the door.

“You look like a mess.” He said, furrowing his brows.

“I’m surprised you noticed for once.” You snapped back in a mumble, shuffling past him and over to your wardrobe.

“…Y/N.” Alastor said, making you stop in your tracks. “What has gotten into you, lately? You’ve been acting so strange, and now you just show me no manners whatsoever.” He said, stepping into the bathroom. “I expect better from you.”

…That bitch.

You quickly threw something on, (of your choice),

Took Alastor’s pillow, a picnic blanket,

And went off into the bayou.

It was quiet after a moment of entering, which pleased you.

You couldn’t hear the sink running from Al’s daily routine, nor the bustling sounds of the hotel from outside the door.

Only crickets, water, and leaves rustling.

You knew where you were heading, as well.

Alastor used to take you out to picnics in a certain spot a lot.

Before the fight.

And you haven’t gone since.

***

The walk calmed you down enough to settle down into the spot without recalling memories and seeing at the same time.

You set the blanket down, anchoring it with some rocks so the wind wouldn’t blow it away, and sat down in your usual spot, hugging the pillow to your chest as you closed your eyes, and daydreamed.

You were at a picnic with Alastor.

You were eating his mother’s dishes.

You were gossiping about cannibal town drama.

You were dusting off each other’s clothes after chasing each other in the Bayou.

You remember how much bruises and cuts you got from that ridiculous game.

“Y/N? What has gotten into you?” Alastor said from behind you.

You turned around to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

He scoffed, “First the bathroom and now far into the bayou. You could’ve gotten lost.”

You felt guilty now. Great.

“…Maybe if you just leave me alone, you wouldn’t have to worry so much.” You mumbled into the pillow.

He put his hands on his hips, “Y/N, it’s been 11 hours since you left the room to here i guess, how could i not worry.”

11 hours?

Now you felt the intense hunger in your stomach, the weight of your eyelids begging to close, the stiffness of your back.

“…Probably because you haven’t in a while, I supposed.” You said truthfully.

“…You’re acting like a child Y/N.” He said, walking around the blanket to look at you.

“…Can we talk, Alastor?” You said, clutching the pillow tighter.

“I feel like that would be best, yes we may.” He said, setting his cane down and sitting across from you on the blanket.

“…Why do you hate me?” You said, looking into the small lake next to you.

“…Hate you? I could never, why do you say that?” He said, clearly offended.

You held back a sob, “You…you never have conversation with me anymore and w-whenever i start one you just…blow it off…” You tried to keep your tears in as you finished your sentence.

After a moment of deafening silence with the crickets to keep you company, you looked up.

Alastor was frowning.

“…I-I know that’s just one thing, b-but,” You took a deep, shaky breath, “You…you also never check on me you…used to always freak out whenever i was upset, always harass me until i told you what was wrong- but now w-whenever i don’t t-tell you…i don’t know…you j-just blow it off as well…” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“…Y/N…” Alastor called out to you.

You didn’t answer.

“…Y/N…” You felt something block the breeze next to you.

And then, something rubbing your shoulder.

That’s when the dam burst.

You let out a sob sob into his pillow, feeling the relief of releasing all those tears, those breaths, the lump in your throat disappearing.

You cried even more when you didn’t feel warmth on your shoulder anymore.

Or when the breeze was back to blowing on you.

But only for a moment.

“Y/N, it’s cold,” Alastor draped his coat over you, “…Y/N…?”

You looked up at him.

He looked scared.

“…I’m sorry for crying Alastor…I-I just couldn’t hold it in…”

“-No, no,” he cut you off, “No, hey, I want you to let it out, okay?” He sat in front of you, and held his arms out.

You only looked at him, pathetically.

“…Come here, Y/N.”

Another sob broke out as you quickly crawled into his lap, discarding the pillow stained with your tears.

“…I’m so sorry Y/N…I’m so sorry i let all of this happen. It was never…never meant to be this way.” He said with an ache in his voice.

You only cried more at that.

And he only rubbed more at that.

He rubbed your back as sobs racked through it, he kissed your head as aches raged in it, and he only held you tighter every time he felt like you were going to slip away, recalling the memories he never thought would bring them here.

“…Am i making you uncomfortable, Alastor.”

“…I’m just uncomfortable with myself right now, darling.”

You squeezed him tighter.

“…I’m sure you’re hungry, no?” He sighed, picking up his cane as he stood up with and exhausted you in his arms.

He tapped it once, and both the blanket and pillow were held between your bodies, his jacket back over his body as well.

“Let’s go get some left overs.”

***

As the two of you arrived back to your room, Alastor set you down into the bed, putting the blanket and pillow away, and then walked back over to you.

“I’m going to get you a meal, okay?” He picked up your hand and kissed the palm of it.

“Don’t um…forget to smile.” You said just below a whisper, “…You aren’t smiling.”

He smiled softly.

“I’ll be right back.”

¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸♬·¯·♩

END NOTES: If you cried, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! If you didn’t cry, HIT THAT LIKE BUTTON! This fic is just pent up rage from a manga i just read that had no happy ending and my life in general , but that’s okay. I don’t have anything to say. Sorry it’s short xx

-Lynn Lazybones

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Masterlist Link

[salty-autistic-writer]

Snippet: Buck saves a cat. She doesn't want to let go.

Buck has always loved animals. He smiles at dogs when he meets them on the street. He also pets them whenever he gets the chance to. Buck thinks that coming home to a dog with a wagging tail would be pretty amazing. But he also wouldn’t mind a cat or a bird or any kind of pet, really.

A lot of his childhood friends had pets. His parents never got any. Too much work, too much trouble, too expensive.

Now, as a firefighter, Buck is never sure if he should get a pet, since neither he nor Tommy are home a lot. But he does think it might be nice to have a pet in the future. Someday.

Buck didn’t know that “someday” would come so soon when there’s a fire at a farm and he fishes a screaming kitten out of an already smoking heap of hay.

Thick smoke is still rising up from the charred remains of the barn. Fortunately, neither humans nor animals were harmed. Quick thinking and acting saved a lot of lives today.

Buck looks at the saved kitten, making sure she’s alright. Underneath a thin layer of soot, her fur is white. She looks like a little fuzzy marshmallow.

And … she just won’t let go. Her little claws are digging into the thick fabric of his turnouts and she keeps rubbing her face there, making little pitiful noises. Buck looks down at her, amused. She’s so cute. But he clearly has to hand her over to someone. He already asked around, trying to find an owner. But no one wants to claim the white ball of fur.

“Cats just live here,” one of the farmers tells Buck, shrugging. “They sleep in the barns and hunt the mice. Sometimes they multiply and sometimes a few of them are driven over by a car. Nature balances itself, you know?” “Sure,” Buck mutters, glancing at the kitten which looks up at him with wide-open blue eyes.  He swallows and chuckles nervously. “Uh. Marshmallow. You really have to let go now, ok? Maybe your mother is somewhere around, huh?”

The kitten just rubs her head against his chest again, purring.

“Looks like this cat is going home with you,” Chimney says with a grin.

Buck perks up, eyes widening. “What? Uh. No. I can’t, I …”

“Cats choose their family,” Hen chimes in, smiling. “Seems like this one made her choice.”

“I …,” Buck turns to Bobby, begging him with his eyes to save him. But Bobby just laughs and says, “Congratulations, Buck. You’re a father.”

Buck sighs. When he looks down into those eyes again, he realizes he’s ready to admit defeat. For now. “Come on, Marshmallow. We’re going home.”

When Tommy comes home, Buck is sitting on the couch and Marshmallow is lounging on one of his knees like a little white Queen. He washed the soot off, brushed her fur and gave her some water as well as cheese. He really has to buy some proper cat food.

Tommy stops and stares at the picture in front of him, clearly astonished. Buck smiles weakly. He gestures at Marshmallow, who looks at Tommy attentively and with her ears pointed towards him, but remains sitting on Buck’s knee confidently, licking one of her paws, probably chasing after the taste of cheese. “Yeah. So … this happened.”

Tommy blinks. “Ev. Why is there a tiny white cat sitting on your leg?”

Buck clears his throat, stroking down the arch of Marshmallow's back. “That’s Marshmallow. We got called to a farm fire and I saved her. She apparently decided I’m her new father now.”

“Marshmallow. You called a cat Marshmallow?!” Tommy asks, raising his brows. Buck shrugs. “I couldn’t think of anything else. She’s small, white and looked a bit burnt before I washed her. But … We can still re-name her right?”

“You want to keep her,” Tommy says. It’s not a question.

Buck swallows. He looks at Marshmallow and can feel the love for her blooming in his chest. “Yeah. What do you think?”

Tommy tilts his head and approaches the couch. “I’m more of a dog person. But cats are fine, I guess. Hey there,” he smiles at Marshmallow and carefully reaches out to pet her. Marshmallow ducks and makes a hissy noise, her claws piercing Buck’s jeans and stinging like little pinpricks.

Tommy frowns, pulling his hand back. “I don’t think she likes me,” he says and sounds disappointed.

“Give her a few hours,” Buck says, amused. “She just got here. I'm sure she's going to get used to you soon enough."

Turns out Marshmallow doesn’t want to leave Buck’s side at all. She follows him everywhere on her small paws, her tail raised and butt wiggling while she hurries to keep up with his steps.

When he goes to the bathroom and closes the door, Marshmallow sits outside, meowing in a demanding way and scratching at the door.

When he goes to bed, Marshmallow sits on the floor and meows until he picks her up and she can snuggle up against him, purring. A small, soft, warm ball of fur.

“I’m starting to feel jealous,” Tommy says, kissing Buck’s neck from behind and glancing at the cat.

Whenever he tries to touch Marshmallow, she ducks and looks at him skeptically. At least she doesn’t hiss anymore. Still, Tommy sulks over the fact that Marshmallow is so focused on Buck and Buck tries to convince him it’s just a matter of time.

Then, two days after Buck became a cat Dad, he comes home after going to the grocery store for some cat food as well as proper bowls for Marshmallow. He opens the door and is greeted by silence. When he walks into the living room, he stops and has to keep himself from laughing.

Tommy is taking a nap on the couch. And curled up on his evenly rising and falling chest, is little Marshmallow, also fast asleep.

Buck takes a picture with his phone and leaves the room on tiptoes, with a smile on his face.

They’re both cat Dads now.

[captainpikeachu]

I saw these comments on a post talking about John and I just felt the need to contextualize some stuff because it constantly feels like people don't actually understand John's situation at all.

Because this kid knew Sam had given up the shield and he still took it

John literally doesn't have a choice. He is a soldier, the military gave him a job, it is not a democracy, he can't just decide he doesn't feel like following an order and an assignment that was given to him. An order to be the new Captain America is not an illegal order nor an immoral order, if John had said no, he could literally be discharged for disobeying an order. This wouldn't just affect him but also throw stigma onto his wife as well. People are acting like John just casually took it or was somehow gunning for the job when it is literally stated that John and Lemar were minding their own busines prepping for a mission before he was pulled out of his mission prep to do this Cap job. He didn't ask for it. It was a job and he did his job. Sam and Bucky are soldiers too, they both should know that soldiers can't just decide to do whatever they feel like and sometimes you have to follow orders you don't like.

And that's not even touching upon the very real possibility that John didn't even know what was going on with Sam or what his intentions were for the shield. It's not as if John was watching the news. And it's also not as if Sam sat him down to explain how he never meant for the shield to go to someone else. John is not a mind reader. He can't know what's going on if people don't tell him.

Because this kid was live on national TV calling Steve "his brother"

He didn't call Steve "his brother", he said Steve felt like a brother. I swear this fandom just suddenly loses their collective minds and logical thinking at this line as if it's a heinous crime when it isn't. Soldiers often feel kinship to each other. This is nothing new. No amount of Bucky looking sad/mad is gonna change the fact that this line is not some crime or affront to Bucky personally. John is not attacking Bucky or Sam or stealing Steve from them. Chill the fuck out already.

John's speech/interview would have been rehearsed and checked by a PR team, so he's saying the things that the govt wants him to say. Much like how Steve had to stick to the script when he was doing USO tours back in the 40s. If y'all don't blame Steve for those things, then why blame John for the same.

Not to mention that line about feeling like a brother is likely a nod to John's comics backstory where John's brother saved him from a house fire as a kid, and John imagined that it had been Captain America who had come to save him, thus linking his brother to Steve/Cap in his mind.

Because Sam and Bucky don't know this kid and yet he's talking to them like they're old friends

So it's a problem that because John doesn't know Sam and Bucky then he can't talk to them like they're old friends but it's okay for Bucky who doesn't know John to insult John in his very first words to him, and additionally insult Lemar as well?

Mind you, Bucky's first words to John after John and Lemar risked their lives to help Sam and Bucky, and stopped Sam from getting his head crushed in by super soldiers, was to say John isn't good enough for the shield and then question if he's brave and self sacrificing enough. Neither Bucky nor Sam thanks John and Lemar for their help, not even a tiny thank you, just resentful silence like petty petulant children.

Because apparently if Bucky and Sam are upset, then they can act out towards other people, but god forbid John reacts in turn, then he's evil?

Do you not know how insulting it is for Bucky to even question John with that "jumping on grenade" BS? Would you ask Simone Biles if she can do a flip? Would you ask if Michael Jordan can shoot a hoop? Do you ask Michael Phelps if he can swim? Asking a THREE time Medal of Honor receipient if he's brave and self sacrificing enough is hugely insulting. And the fact that Sam and Bucky are both soldiers and doing this stuff is even more terrible behavior.

They ought to know that the Medal of Honor is not easily given out, that the military is extremely hesitant at giving out these medals that sometimes people don't get them until 30 or 40 years later?? They also ought to know that the Medal of Honor is taken so seriously that if the lowest ranking private got one, even the highest ranking generals would salute that soldier because everyone knows the level of sacrifice and heroism it takes to even just earn one of those medals??

So here is Bucky and Sam knowing all this, knowing that the Medal of Honor citations are public records so John's actions are literally open to public scrutiny because MoHs are very documented, still chose to behave in an insultingly presumptive and condescending manner.

Sam later says "we can't expect others to step up if we don't meet them half way" - yet Sam and Bucky never even tried to meet John half way and they still expected him to step up for them.

Why the hypocrisy? Why are insulting behaviors okay just because it's the protagonists doing it?

Because this kid is stupid enough to say he wants them all to work together because he wants Cap's wing-men by his side as if Sam and Bucky were sidekicks and not full grown adult men and heroes in their own right

The irony of being upset at the wing-man comment when Sam years ago called his own best friend Riley his wingman, yet I don't remember people acting like Riley was a sidekick and not treated like a full grown adult in his own right by Sam?

There seems to be an inability to accept John at his words and making up things he's meaning. What is so wrong to say that John's job would be a lot easier if people saw him supported by Cap's friends? It's a very logical reality. It's no different than if Sam wanted to start a new Avengers team, having the public support of previous Avengers would legitimize his position.

"Walker was an asshole for most of the time"

Except he wasn't.

Sam and Bucky didn't like him not because John said anything to them, but because they were already angry by the time they met due to things that weren't John's fault. They're mad at the government, but guess what? They know they can't take on the government, but John is a much easier target. The easy scapegoat and punching bag for their anger.

Instead of thanking John and Lemar for their help with the Flag Smashers and ensuring that Sam didn't die, Sam and Bucky ignored John and Lemar's attempt to give them a ride back, and then immediately Bucky launches into a tirade about how John didn't deserve that shield and how he's not brave or self sacrificing enough.

Who the fuck talks to someone they just met like that? If someone you had never met said that to you on your first day of work, would you not be looking at a toxic workplace?

And even then, John brushes off the insults and even says that he understands why they're angry, and trying to extend an olive branch, which they wouldn't take.

And yes, Bucky did constantly belittle John, from the very first moment. His first words to John was literally to tell a man he had never even met or spoken to that he wasn't good enough. It's a shitty move no matter how much he thinks he is justified in his anger.

And then he mocks the pressure that John is under. He crosses a line so far that even Sam recognized it and tried to step in to de-escalate.

Are Sam and Bucky responsible for John's actions? No. John is his own person and he made his decisions. But let's not pretend that actions can't be influenced by environment or be a response to something.

Even Sam recognized it enough to say the words that "you can't expect others to step up if you don't meet them half way" in a speech to government leaders and to the world, literally saying that how you treat someone will affect how they react or treat you.

Sure, Sam and Bucky were dealing with their own problems, and losing Steve and then this shield mess made them unwilling to open up and trust. But if we can understand Sam and Bucky's POV and why they behaved as they did, why can't we give the same grace to John?

He didn't ask for the shield. He was given an order, an assignment that that he had to obey. So he did what he was ordered to, and he did it wanting to do his best and do good and help. And from day one he is met with a wall to his face at every turn when he tries to extend a hand. He is constantly met with people telling him that he's not good enough or acting like he's a thief who's committed some crime when all he did was accept an order that both Sam and Bucky would know he can't disobey.

Why should Sam and Bucky expect John be "humble" and accept he's not good enough and swallow their attitude towards him and to step up for them, if Sam and Bucky were never willing to meet John half way and decided they already hated him or they somehow already knew him before they had actually met?

They made a self fulfilling prophecy in the end. And the show emotionally manipulated the audience by knowingly playing into the notion that people would automatically side with characters they already felt emotionally attached to, and of course people fell for it.

[stardustjmk]

hello! I saw that your requests for Greta are open, and I was wondering if I could request something for Jake? I am hard-of-hearing, and I suppose I would love to read something about how that has an impact on Jake and Reader's relationship. If you have any specific questions or anything, just let me know! I can totally help out. I hate to say it but I'd love for it to be a little angsty, like, obviously hearing loss is not a choice and maybe Jake is just like... still upset that Reader can't fully hear things and asks to wear headphones at concerts. I would assume IRL Jake isn't an ignorant jerk like that but maybe for this he's just hurt that he isn't able to fully be heard literally and takes offense that like the headphones make it seem like he is being ignored. Thanks in advance!❤️

Loud and Clear | J.T.K

Summary: In which Jake does his best to be understanding and mindful of his hard of hearing partner, but a particular request upsets him.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x gn!reader | Genre: angst, hurt/comfort Warnings: angst, jake being unintentionally ignorant. | Word count: 2.6k

Note: I am not the best at writing angst, since I crave fluff, but I do hope there’s enough of it to fulfill your expectations 🥹🫶🏻 Thank you for requesting!!

DISCLAIMER: I myself am not hard of hearing, nor do I personally know anyone who is. The last thing I want to do is offend anyone, or anything along those lines. So, in the case that something in this story comes off as offensive, please understand that is not at all my intent. Also please let me know if that is the case, so I do not repeat any mistakes.

There was a point in time where you couldn’t see yourself being anything more than a friend to Jake Kiszka.

When he first showed romantic interest in you, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t scare you. After all, you’d been met with numerous challenged relationship, and it was rarely your fault, to put it simply.

That being said, Jake was persistent, unlike any other guy you’d ever had interest in. He showed you, time and time again, that he would take every challenge, and erase it the best he could. Not once did he make you feel bad, or guilty for being hard of hearing, and he certainly didn’t let anyone else make you feel that way either. So, between his persistence, patience, and love, you let yourself fall for him, getting wrapped around his finger.

Jake does his best to learn sign language, along with other means of communicating, but being so busy with making music, doing shows, and all the other tedious tasks of his job, it’s hard find the time to attend classes or do lessons online. Especially given that in order to make that happen, he usually has to sacrifice time with you, or friends, or family.

You know he does his best though, and it shows in the way he speaks to you, which in turn is enough in your book. Not to mention, guys you’d seen before had much more free time on their hands, but never put in the effort to learn, whereas Jake manages to find time no matter how busy he is, all while keeping up his relationship with you.

That’s not to say you don’t have your struggles with him, though.

You can recall a few moments where he’d gotten impatient, trying to explain something to you. One time, he’d waved it off, and even though he explained that it wasn’t because of you, but more so the point he was getting at just stopped being that important to him, it still hurt to be dismissed, when you were trying your hardest to understand. From that moment on, it was very rare for him to be frustrated, but you could sometimes see his shoulders slump or lip twitch. You did your best not to take it personally, and most of the time, he would make up for it whether it be outright apologizing to you for it, or cleaning up his act as soon as it starts - nevertheless, his patience and understanding always outweighs the few occasions where it isn’t so.

All things considered, this might be the worst situation you’ve been in with him.

You hug Jake’s arm as he talks to the boys backstage, the four of them preparing for the show they’ll be playing in a few hours. Jake wears a small, proud smile, evidently excited to finally have you come to a show. The four of them talk to one another, and between looking at their lips, along with the occasional signed words they’d picked up on, you could follow along fairly easily.

Each one of them had learned at least some basic sign language, but Jake had learned the most by far. In fact, when you met his parents for the first time, you were almost shocked by just how much of their words he was able to sign to you. Now, he does the same, and you find yourself with a smile that mirrors his, heart swelling with nothing but love for him.

Your eyes scan the room, and when your gaze lands on a cluster of neatly placed noise-cancelling headphones, you realize that you’d left the ones you brought in Jake’s dressing room. It would likely be easy to go retrieve them, but you’d be lying if you said the “Greta Van Fleet” stickers on the ear muffs didn’t appeal to you.

So, you wander back to the conversation, and wait until a good time to grab Jake’s attention. When it comes, you tap his shoulder gently. He immediately gives you his attention, and you take a moment to admire the smudged liner that beautifully enhances his brown eyes, making your head spin with how good it looks on him.

“Would it be okay if I take a pair of those headphones?” you ask, gesturing to the table, and Jake is quick to nod his head, but it seems he didn’t exactly process it, because as you grab a pair, his brows furrow. “Wait, why do you need them?” He asks. You told him once that your ears are sensitive to loud sounds, but it was months ago, and honestly very brief, so you aren’t upset that he doesn’t remember.

“My ears are sensitive, remember?” you try to jog his memory, and he nods slowly. He does remember, and also recalls reading something about it, possibly back in school, but it still makes his shoulders slump and mood falter. He tries to mentally reason with himself, knowing that you can’t help it, and that he wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, but Jake is known to be stubborn. Anyone who’s close to him knows that and has likely experienced it at least once.

You try to shake off the guilt that bubbles in your stomach - it’s not your fault.

However, as time passes, instead of getting over it, Jake only seems to grown more frustrated with you. It makes your heart ache, to think back on when you first met him. Even though he’s just as sweet now as he was then, a part of you thinks that he wouldn’t react like this if you went back in time and found yourself in this situation.

By the time you gather the courage to confront him, it’s not exactly a convenient time. The opening band is set to be going on in just a few minutes, and you should be making your way to your seat, but you decide it can wait. “Why are you mad at me?” You ask suddenly. You’d been watching Jake make his last adjustments to his makeup, outfit, and guitar (at least, the ones he could do backstage), and it was silent the whole time. You could feel how upset he was, and in a way, it made you mad, which is what made you ask.

“I’m not mad at you,” Jake says, not even bothering to look at you, when normally he’d be fully focused on you, knowing it makes it easier for the both of you. It’s a clear sign that he doesn’t want to talk, and your stomach turns. You’d never experienced this with Jake - shit, you could barely imagine experiencing this with him, given how he’s acted thus far.

A part of you starts to freak out, as this has happened before, in other relationships. Things go well, then something happens, you get blamed - even though it isn’t your fault - and then they break things off. Is Jake going to break up with me? you think to yourself, suddenly dreading the trip to your seat, and the hours following where you’re going to be expected to be happy.

“You are mad,” you say, a little more stern this time. He still refuses to look at you, and you feel a lump forming in your throat. “Jake,” you say, almost certain that your voice is shaky. He finally looks at you. “I just…” he sighs, “The music means so much to me, and the thought of you not hearing it is upsetting,” he explains. You watch his lips as he talks, eyes flickering between them and his hands as he tries to sign it. It’s slightly relieving, knowing that he’s not so mad as to completely give up communication, but there’s still a weight on your shoulders.

Before you can say anything, the boys are being rounded up, and Jake gives you a quick kiss on the cheek. “My mom will help you to your seat,” is the last thing he says before heading off with the other boys, making your heart sink. Your lip trembles, and tears well in your eyes, but you force them away. With shaky hands, you grab your headphones and soon meet with Karen, finding your way to your seat.

Despite the lingering sadness in regards to your predicament with Jake, you do your best to enjoy the show.

The lights turn back on, the boys disappear, and the once screaming crowd now evolves into chatter throughout the arena. Karen has been nothing but sweet to you, and as you both head back stage, she links her arm with yours. You’re coming up on a year of being with Jake, and at this point, you’re close enough with his mom that resting your head on her shoulder as you walk isn’t a big deal to either of you. In fact, she presses a kiss to your head, making a small smile form on your lips.

You aren’t sure what to do when you see Jake, so you hesitantly walk towards him, standing awkwardly to the side as he talks to one of the tech guys. As their conversation comes to an end, Jake turns to you. It’s clear that he also isn’t sure what to do, but he chooses to take your hand in his, gently guiding you back to his dressing room.

He seems gentler now, which is relieving, but you’re still worked up about the whole situation, and you’re sure it’s still on his mind as well. You take a seat on the small leather couch that’s in his dressing room, occasionally glancing at him as he changed out of his sweaty suit, and into a pair of old jeans, and one of his beloved button ups. Since it’s a Nashville show, you assume he’ll worry about a shower when he gets home.

He turns to you and walks towards you, eyes locking with yours. You’re not sure what to expect. He lifts a hand and brushes his knuckles against your cheek before cupping it. It’s a silent apology, that, and the way the look in his eyes begs for forgiveness. “We can talk about it later, okay? I don’t want to brush anything off, but I also have to-“ “I know, Jakey,” you stop him, turning your head to peck his palm, before standing up. “Do what you have to do,” you tell him, grabbing your headphones off the couch arm where you’d rested them, as well as making sure to grab the ones you’d brought. You kiss his cheek then walk to the door, opening it as to press your previous statement.

You aren’t sure exactly how long it is before Jake is done, but you do your best to wait patiently. You talk to the other boys, to his mom again, and eventually just linger around Jake himself, trying not to get in the way as he does what he can to help get things packed up.

After some time, everyone finishes up, and you’re back to where you were earlier, with your arm wrapped around Jake’s as you leave the arena. You say goodbye to the boys, along with Jake’s mom, then head your separate ways. The walk to his car is quiet, and you can only assume he’s also thinking about what to say, and what’s going to be said when you talk. He opens the passenger door for you, shutting it gently once you’re settled, then heads to the drivers side.

He waits to start the car, and instead looks at you. You figure he wants to go ahead and talk, and you ultimately decide sooner is better than later. “You said that I can’t hear you, and that upsets you,” you remind him of his words, giving him a chance to correct you, or add onto it, but he just nods. You look at him, and the look on his face reads that of guilt, but also a hint of his own frustration is mixed in with it. His silence gives you the floor to speak, but you can tell he’s worried.

You reach over the console and take one of his hands in yours, then use the other to gently direct his face towards you. His eyes meet yours, and you offer a half smile. “I do hear you, Jake,” you start. “Maybe I can’t listen to it the way you do, or the way your fans do, but I hear it, Jake. I see it, too…I feel it. I feel the drums, I feel the vibrations your amps, I see the way you react, the way the crowd reacts- Jake, I hear you loud and clear,” you conclude, and you can tell that it hit him particularly hard, with the way he sighs shakily and squeezes your hand.

He nods, processing your words, then waits for you to continue. When you stay quiet, he takes over, “Talk to me, please. I know you’re hurt and I just- I want to fix it, so please talk to me,” he says, taking over the role of assurance and comfort. “I just need you to hear me too, Jake,” you say, sighing softly. “I love you so much, and the idea of you being frustrated with me over this…it just hurts, you know? I didn’t ask for it,” you explain. You aren’t attacking him, or even trying to make him feel bad, and he knows it, so he lets you vent, without interrupting. “I know, and,” he pauses, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before laying it on his lap. He uses his hands to sign as he talks. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that,” he says, and the way you can see the wheels in his head spinning extra fast, trying to make sure he doesn’t mess up, makes you crack the faintest smile.

“I love you too, and I promise that this won’t happen again, okay?” he says, and you nod, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. He kisses you back, lifting a hand to cup your cheek. You practically melt into him, the way he’s so delicate and passionate all at once making you crumble. When you pull away, he’s wearing a grin. “Now, you’re more than allowed to decline…but I think maybe we need a do-over, if you want to come to one of the next shows,” he suggests, and much to his excitement, you do agree.

When the next show rolls around, Jake gifts you a pair of noise-canceling headphones. You open the mix to find a pair of bedazzled ones, black rhinestones making up the majority of them, with “Greta Van Fleet” spelled out in carefully placed silver rhinestones. “The rhinestones were Josh’s idea, weren’t they?” you ask, making him let out a genuine laugh. “You bet it was Josh’s idea.”

This time around, things go a lot smoother, and Jake makes sure to look extra hard for you in the crowd. The smile on your face, the bedazzled headphones - which you eventually found had your initials embroidered on the underside of the headband part, along with “all my love” in jake’s handwriting - which he comes to absolutely adore, the way you’d dressed up for the show, all of it makes him fall even more in love with you. Not to mention, he watches you for longer than he might should, but it’s worth it to see you enjoying yourself, and that’s when he realizes that you do hear him, loud and clear.

[dreams-and-drabbles]

i request Genshin angst

how Genshin men react when you wanna break up with them. :')

Oh, anon. I adore angst. This is going to be incredibly fun to write…

Thoma

He’s distraught— His first response is “Did I do something wrong?”

When you explain it just didn’t work, he stops asking questions and accepts that the two of you are over. He avoids your gaze as he excuses himself, and from the corner of your gaze, you can see he’s bitten down on his lip enough to bleed.

Thoma is happy to leave the relationship in the past, which unfortunately also meant leaving you in the past, as well…

Your friendship never really recovered from that. The two of you interacted just fine with others in the room, but anytime it was just the two of you alone, a tense silence seemed to overtake the room. It didn’t break until one of you left or someone else entered.

It was almost like you didn’t exist to him anymore, and you’re not really sure how exactly you feel about that…

Kaeya

Kaeya’s response is a self deprecating laugh and a bitter, “I told you so. Everyone tires of me eventually.”

If you thought it was hard to understand him before, after the breakup it seemed as though an entire ocean separated you from Kaeya.

While the two of you could still hold a conversation and even had friendly interactions, there was no real spark there anymore when you talked.

It felt as though the both of you were acting, in a desperate attempt to keep the normalcy.

Somehow, the others you’re acquainted with seem to think you and Kaeya are still fairly close.

At least, you’re fooling them… Neither you nor Kaeya can truly fool yourselves into thinking that things will ever quite be ‘okay’ between you again…

Ayato

His initial response is surprise, but he quickly writes it off, and asks for your reasoning to breakup.

He takes your explanation quite well, and his response is, “I understand. It will do no one any good trying to hold onto something that is not working…”

You and Ayato remain friends, and the two of you can still interact as you did before.

Perhaps, it’s because Ayato has seen and experienced relationships that didn’t work, but his response to the situation is one of incredible tact.

Sometimes, the two of you reminisce on things you did while dating, and those conversations always leaves you with a bittersweet sense.

At the end of the day, at least you still had each other… It just wasn’t in the way it used to be, as you both knew that wouldn’t work. ((Although, sometimes you wish it could.))

Diluc

His response to the breakup is a cold, “Okay.”

Any warmth he may have displayed to you dissipated after that, and he treated you like he would a stranger.

Diluc went above and beyond to keep you at arm’s length, and it equal parts hurt and equal parts made you mad.

You ask him one day, if everything you’d had amounted to nothing, and his response was—

“I asked that too, when you decided that we weren’t enough.”

Needless to say, that response was like a slap to the face, and you’ve started visiting the Cat’s Tail instead…

Cyno

He accepts the breakup rather gracefully, but as soon as you’ve parted ways, he throws himself into his work.

Cyno does not know how to deal with emotions at the best of times, so he goes on a hunting spree, tracking down as many targets as he can for the next month…

You’re concerned, of course, but anytime the two of you run into each other, he’s on his way to track yet another target…

You’re lucky if you even catch sight of him, after all of this…

Al Haitham

His first response is to list all of the reasons you should continue to date him, and why he was a logical choice. After you explained that emotions weren’t logical by any means, however, he accepted your reasons and let it drop—

Surprisingly, your friendship withstood the breakup fairly well, except now Al Haitham seemed to be incredibly interested in your emotional response to everything.

You went from dating to becoming his lab rat, and you’re not fond of that in the slightest—

When you explain this to Al Haitham, he immediately takes note of your response, and the next time you’re out he’s incredibly charming.

When you eventually ask him why he’s doing all this, his response is—

“I’m attempting to find some sort of logic in all of this, so that I can distract myself from the illogical hurt that I feel. Do you understand?”

To say you feel bad for your earlier words is an understatement—

The worst part was that in no way did Al Haitham attempt to make you feel guilty…

You just did…

[eeblouissant]

in this essay I need to talk about the way Dorothy acts around & reacts to stan in this clip (season 4 ep 5) specifically or I will simply perish.

enjoy the unorganized (unedited, and definitely not reread) chaos, this will be more of a ramble than anything - it’s so late & I need to get these thoughts out of my head before I explode.

Firstly, the clip in question:

( 1:15 - 2:22 )

now. Oh boy. Where do I even begin.

As much as I know it was done for comedic effect; the way Dorothy doesn’t hesitate to let herself cuddle into stan (STAN!!! CUDDLING. with STAN. And **publicly** there are so many layers here) when he puts an arm around her, describing what probably were the happier times Dorothy’s mentioned having with him despite it all (or at least a version of them. his version, that he’d created in an attempt to persuade her, as we learn pretty quickly) - oh god it just breaks my heart. She lets herself feel those memories for just a moment, before it all inevitably comes crashing down again. The way she snaps so quickly… that’s something we do not see in younger Dorothy. Younger Dorothy comes off much more passive-aggressive leaning more on the passive (shy?) side, she’s just very logical & no nonsense (but not in the way she is now). That’s something that Dorothy never really loses - Whereas current Dorothy has lost that (passiveness) completely with stan, and seems find it natural to come off as “aggressive” & dominating around/toward others. So - that ability to shut off & become defensive like that, & so fast, was developed later on. She’s got a bite now that was learned, because she had to bite to survive. For her own sanity. Do you know how much work that would take to unlearn & heal, if she ever even tried? oh my. Yeah I’m not well. I don’t think she would have much faith in it changing either, it’s become such a part of her. I think she would feel a little lost without it.

That first bit kills me - but what kills me about this scene most, is that last bit. Where she tries to push back further with a comment she know will be funny and just a little hurtful (towards stan, im sure she thought) and that will further deflect. But it backfires and hurts her instead. Her voice breaks. It breaks and her eyes soften and it looks like that just for a moment she lets the hurt shine through. Because that is especially painful, she cannot bury it. Her entire demeanour changes as those last few words are delivered (and Oh My God do they register fast - like she’d reopened that wound having no idea it was going to sting so badly.) and I just - oh my GOD. For that split second she looks like she might crack, the pain in her voice is so clear. & then the walls go right back up & it’s pushed right back down. I cannot deal. I absolutely cannot. Dorothy has let herself be vulnerable in the past, but has there ever been more than maybe (maybe) a handfull of instances where her voice & face soften that way? Anyway, I’m absolutely losing it over those little details. I’ve yet to find another scene where it feels like younger Dorothy shines through in the current. It hurt my heart so good and I cannot stop thinking about it :’) I think this is my sign to rebinge every episode in order. Because I am definitely forgetting - there has to be more.

Okay that’s all for now! If any of you have any thoughts or personal fav scenes (etc) to share as well please feel free!!! Dorothy angst seems to be my drug of choice lately lmao

(like two bits of this were my own interpretations of Dorothy’s character based on observation, don’t take them as canon nor am I claiming they are, because we obviously don’t know exactly what happened in between + younger Dorothy didn’t have much screen time :’)! Headcanons are just so much fun to throw around!!)

She <333 <33333333 <3 <3 <3 heart heart heart xxoo literal angel

[longdeadking]

By the time Mia was done asking Larry questions, they'd actually learned a lot.

The murder weapon wasn't just a statue, it was a clock — and one that was handmade, too, with only two in existence in the world. Larry had made it himself and given it to Ms. Stone as a gift, keeping the other one for himself.

Ms. Stone had been in Paris until the day of the murder. Larry thought she was going for a photoshoot, probably, but neither of them had an international plan, so they didn't talk while she was abroad.

Larry went to her apartment after she was scheduled to get back because she hadn't called yet, even though she promised she would as soon as she got home. But she wasn't there, so Larry left, assuming that her flight had gotten delayed, or there were problems with her luggage or something.

There was nobody with motive and means to kill her, as far as Larry knew. She was private about her address and her job was pretty low-key. Ms. Stone had been gone for two weeks, so neither she nor Larry would know if anyone had been hanging around.

It was a surprisingly helpful interview.

Of course, it only started being that helpful after he and Mia had gone back to the office and pieced together the information out of Larry's dramatics and unfortunately suspicious word choice. Phoenix, having expected something along those lines, had snuck in a little recording device so that he didn't have to take notes. It was probably not legal to bring something like that into a basically-prison, but it was really the security's fault for not checking him more thoroughly.

That was his philosophy for most of the things he did. If the police were more effective, if there were actual programs in place to make sure people never had to turn to crime, if he could trust the people in charge to have the citizens' best interests at heart, then he wouldn't need to be Spider-Man. He'd just be a regular old civilian with superpowers.

They wrapped up the day with a much more substantial case file and a trial looming in the morning, but before Phoenix could grab his bag and get home, Mia stopped him.

"You said you know the client, right?" she asked. It was a leading question. Mia loved those. Phoenix sort of hated them, but he answered anyway.

"Yeah." And then he didn't elaborate.

Mia didn't scowl exactly, but she wasn't smiling. "He seemed very familiar with you. And you him."

"Oh, yeah, we go way back," Phoenix shrugged. His mouth was starting to feel dry. This was the most he'd told the Chief about his life since the first time they met.

"How did you two meet? College? He's an artist, so maybe you crossed paths with him then," Mia offered, knowing very well it was a lie. She'd met all of Phoenix's friends from college. One of them was a murderer and his girlfriend. The rest of them didn't exist.

She was extending an olive branch, but Phoenix was just too tired to file away the lie to keep up later, so he sat back down at his desk with a huff. "No, we've known each other since we were kids. We went to grade school together. He's one of the reasons I'm doing what I do today."

Doing what I do. Very smooth, Phoenix, not vague and weasely at all. But you couldn't blame him, really. He spent all his time around lawyers, the weasel supremes.

Mia raised a perfectly-shaped eyebrow. "And what is it that you do?"

"Y'know," Phoenix shrugged. "Justice."

A loaded word, justice. For Phoenix in particular. In this moment, he meant his night job beating up muggers and creeps, gathering information for Mia to pull out with a flourish in the courtroom. He was the underbelly of her high society, the stain on her perfect conscience. She appreciated him as an assistant, but she didn't love the vigilantism. It made sense. She was a lawyer. She couldn't fraternize with criminals.

Still, Mia smiled, looking half-relieved. Phoenix had talked around the point, like always, and like always, Mia caught him in the act.

"I'm glad he's there for you, then," she said.

"He won't be if he's stuck in jail."

"Then we'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen."

Mia said it with such certainty that Phoenix didn't even hesitate to believe her. She would get Larry acquitted because he was innocent. No prosecutors or police detectives or warped reflections of justice would stop her. Nothing would. She was Mia Fey, unstoppable.

Phoenix left the office with a light heart, despite the circumstances.

Night hadn't fallen yet, but the sky was just starting to go dim and orange at the edges. He had a couple of hours of down time before he had to go out. Usually, he'd spend those hours texting Larry or Googling case precedents for Mia's next trial, but Larry wasn't available and the Chief already had her case laid out. Murder trials always went by quick. Another way the system failed.

At least it meant criminals got put away quickly.

Phoenix decided to spend his free time actually stretching and warming up. He'd had a good yoga tutorial saved on his laptop for a while, but he used it less than he probably should. His body was pretty resilient, was the thing, so he tended to ignore the aches and cramps, fighting them off with painkillers and heating pads if they were making it hard to move, because by the next morning, they'd be gone.

The yoga still felt nice, though. It got his brain in gear.

Night fell as Phoenix stretched, and once the video ended, he was ready to suit up and hit the bricks.

Miles Edgeworth was still in his office.

It was dark, and nearly every other prosecutor was gone, trickling out over the course of the few hours after five o'clock.

The Chief Prosecutor was still here. Her door must have been open, because Miles could hear someone speaking to her from down the hall. The chief of police, most likely, considering the topics brought up in the few snippets Miles could decipher. Chief Prosecutor Skye seemed to never speak above a firm but close-quarters tone, but Police Chief Gant was much louder, projecting his voice seemingly by accident. As such, the conversation from Miles' perspective seemed to be rather one-sided, although knowing Prosecutor Skye, she was speaking back constantly.

The pitch and volume of the conversation rose until Miles could almost make out what Prosecutor Skye was saying, and he could clearly hear Chief Gant. It was an argument about misfiled evidence, apparently, and an attorney requesting a retrial for which no evidence or interviews were recorded. Gant was furiously defensive, but Prosecutor Skye had taken control of the conversation, and she was not going to back down. Miles respected that about the Chief Prosecutor. Like his mentor, Prosecutor Skye would not be dismissed, and her words were law, often even over those of the judge. Before she was Chief Prosecutor, she was much more timid, often letting the opposing counsel lead the trial, but since her promotion, she had developed a confidence that even Miles could not match. Were they not working for the same cause, on the same side of the courtroom, Miles would have loved to be put against Prosecutor Skye.

However, she was his superior, and more importantly his coworker, and so he pushed the daydream from his mind and turned his steely focus back to the case.

A murder trial, investigated headed by Detective Gumshoe. The victim, a model, murdered in her home with a blunt object. The key witness, Mr. Frank Sahwit, whose police interview was the central point of Miles' argument.

The accused, one Mr. Larry Butz.

That was what stopped Miles the first time. And then the next several times.

All of the defendants that he prosecuted against were guilty, as their verdicts agreed. If a criminal crossed his path in court, they would be punished for their crimes. It was impossible to empathize with them. It was impossible to think that they could be innocent or misunderstood. The evil it took to kill another human being was too great for that. It could not be forgiven.

And yet, Miles could not make himself believe that Larry Butz was guilty.

He'd tried. Over and over again, he'd scoured the evidence, spoken to Gumshoe, visited the crime scene himself, and yet, he still found himself feeling sympathy for the man. It was embarrassing. He had no connection to Mr. Butz outside of a single year of grade school that, in the face of von Karma's legacy and Miles' own success, was so small that it was laughable that he even remembered the man's name a all. He had no idea how his character had changed over the fifteen years they had been apart. Miles certainly grew more ruthless, but his wrath was trained, focused on the ultimate good of bringing justice to the world. Larry Butz, a monstrous and chaotic child, could not have been groomed into perfection as Miles had. Really, murder was the natural progression for him.

Miles repeated it to himself again. It made sense that Larry Butz killed Cindy Stone. Mr. Sahwit's account was airtight, and Butz was the exact kind of person that would commit such a violent crime. There was no reason to doubt, and therefore by doubting, Miles was being unreasonable. Imperfect. He would sit in this office and reread the file until he saw reason. That was the only way.

Miles' pen exploded in his white-knuckled grip.

Chief Gant and Chief Skye went suddenly very quiet. There was a moment of silence as they, probably, finished their conversation in hushed tones, and then two sets of footsteps departed from the office in two different directions.

One of those directions was towards Miles' office. He felt his stomach sink into the basement — a feat, considering his office was on the twelfth floor. His desk was a disorganized mess of papers, he certainly looked terrible, and his pen was still leaking ink onto his hand. He was frozen as the footsteps grew nearer and nearer, and then the door opened, and Chief Prosecutor Skye stepped inside.

"Edgeworth? You're still here? It's nearly ten," she said. When she noticed the smashed pen, she asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, of course everything is fine," Miles said quickly. "I simply didn't notice that my pen was partially broken, and I used slightly too much force while making a note, causing it to snap. The documents are not stained." They weren't, he'd checked. It was the first thing he did after breaking the pen, before even considering washing his hands. Legal documents were much higher priority than his own stained fingertips.

Prosecutor Skye looked down at the papers, recognizing them as the Stone case. "Is this case giving you trouble? I could have it transferred if you'd like. I think Payne has an opening."

"No, please, I have it perfectly handled. I simply lost track of time while ensuring that my case is perfect for the trial tomorrow morning. There is no need to transfer the case to someone else," Miles said, face pinching as he realized that he was very obviously begging the Chief Prosecutor. Clearly this case had rattled him very badly, if he was acting so immature.

"Right. Well, if you need anything, you can call or send me an email," Chief Prosecutor Skye said slowly. "I'm going to leave as soon as I gather my things from my office, and I would prefer that you leave then as well."

Miles nodded. It made perfect logical sense that the Chief Prosecutor would not feel comfortable letting anyone other than herself lock up the building for the night. It was yet another example of her level-headed intelligence. It contrasted terribly with Miles' overemotional outburst. He did not make eye contact with the Chief Prosecutor as she left, and he neatened his office as well as he could with one hand before practically sprinting out of his office to avoid meeting her in the hall. His hand was still covered in ink, although he'd wiped as much as he could off with tissues from a little tin container at the receptionist's empty desk. He used more tissues to protect his steering wheel from the ink as he drove home. He did not think about Larry Butz. He did not think about Spider-Man. He did not think about court.

He did not think about anything at all.

Japanifornia never slept.

Phoenix thought that was probably another city's slogan already, but it worked in this situation, and hey, what's a little copyright infringement to a superhero?

He was currently perched on the rooftop of a high-rise kitty-corner to Eldoon's Noodle Stand. He'd made a habit of stopping by for food when their paths crossed, but Mr. Eldoon was getting sick of him stealing the bowls so he could eat in privacy. Lifting his mask, even for a second, was not an option, so tonight he'd come prepared — in the tool belt around his waist, among the gadgets and helpful trinkets, was a small soup thermos.

He pulled out the thermos first, then tucked it under his arm as he used his free hand to swing down right in front of the stand's path.

Mr. Eldoon didn't even flinch.

"Mr. Spider-Man, Terror of Noodle Stands! Have you come to kidnap more of my family's heirloom noodle bowls?" Mr. Eldoon drawled, coming to a stop.

Phoenix grinned even though Eldoon couldn't see it and held out the thermos. "It's Terror of Japanifornia, actually. And nope! This time I came prepared."

"It should be Terror of Noodle Stands," Mr. Eldoon grumbled, reluctantly scooping broth into the mug. "I'll have to contact that woman from the press and make her change your tagline."

"If you're going through all that trouble, could you ask them to make it something a little nicer?" Phoenix asked.

"You don't deserve something nicer."

Phoenix sniffled, doing his best to communicate being on the verge of tears without facial expressions. "I'm hurt, Mr. Eldoon. I thought I was your favorite customer."

"You'll be my favorite customer when you start paying for your dinner!" Mr. Eldoon snapped.

Phoenix just laughed. Mr. Eldoon never let him pay. "You'll stop being my favorite vendor when you start charging me!"

As Phoenix tucked the thermos back into his belt, he felt a wavering sort of sensation behind him. His back tensed.

Trouble was always around in Japanifornia. It was everywhere, if you knew where to look. When Phoenix got his superpowers, one of the thing he'd noticed was this sixth-sense for danger — not to himself, but to others. Buildings about to collapse, muggers about to pull a gun, manipulators about to spring a trap. It was the reason he could be a hero. Without his spidey-sense (as he'd coined it when he first got his powers, a decision he regrets every day), he'd be useless.

So he waved goodbye to Mr. Eldoon and swung away, towards the growing danger.

The city looked different at night than during the day, and it looked different on the rooftops than on the ground, but Phoenix would have to be blind not to recognize the area. His spidey-sense was taking him right to Fey and Co. Law Offices.

He stopped on the roof of the neighboring hotel, the Watergate or something, where he had a good vantage point into Mia's window. The office lights were off, which was a good sign, but Phoenix could sense some movement through the glass.

A car passed by, and in the second that the headlights illuminated the room, Phoenix saw where the movement had come from.

A gigantic man in a pastel pink suit was standing at Mia's desk, apparently taking apart her office phone. His hands were covered in massive, heavy-looking gold rings (that would fucking hurt to get punched by, Phoenix noted), and as a result, his progress with the tiny screwdriver was slow. He definitely didn't look like a repairman, and it was almost midnight — even if he was a repair guy with a weird personal style, there was no reason for him to be in the office so late. Mia would never schedule something like that, and she owned the place.

The only conclusion was that this guy was bad news.

Phoenix was conflicted. He could burst through the window right now and stop this weirdo from doing whatever it is he was doing, but as Spider-Man, he had no reason to. Spider-Man didn't know Mia Fey, and had no idea that this stranger wasn't the owner of this office. Intervening would mean drawing a connection between Mia Fey and Spider-Man, and Phoenix didn't want to put the Chief in that position.

The man was definitely breaking and entering, but until he did something that would get the cops suspicious, Phoenix couldn't do anything about it. He resigned himself to memorizing the man's face, so that if anything turned up stolen, Phoenix would be able to identify him. He certainly had a memorable enough appearance.

Once he was sure he'd memorized the trespasser, Phoenix turned away from the office and followed another trail.

The night was busy, like it always was. Not many actual fights or threats, but a lot of drunk kids who needed someone to call them a cab, girls who wanted someone to scare off a creep, and shady deals that needed someone to supervise them. Plus, Phoenix swung by Ms. Stone's apartment building to see if there was anything suspicious going on. Ms. Stone's apartment was dark as far as he could tell, and after hanging around keeping an eye on it for a bit, he left, satisfied that nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

There was always trouble on the streets of Japanifornia, but as Spider-Man, Phoenix could do something about it. He could save people.

If only he'd had superpowers back then. If only he could've saved him.

Miles arrived at the Prosecutors' Office at eight a.m. exactly, parking in the garage and scaling the thirteen flights of stairs with practiced swiftness. The Stone case was organized perfectly within his briefcase, and his head was clear of any thoughts of vigilantes or innocent defendants. He was prepared to crush his opponent, whoever they would be. His argument was flawless. The previous day had been embarrassing, but he had put that behind him now. It was irrational to linger on the past, however recent that past may be.

Miles opened the door to his office to see Chief Prosecutor Skye already inside. Immediately he was on edge.

Chief Prosecutor Skye smiled sadly at him. "Edgeworth, I have bad news about your case today."

"What is it?" Miles said, trying not to let his dread show in his tone.

"I've transferred the case to Winston Payne. He requested it, and after seeing how stressed you were last night, I thought it would be for the best."

Miles was speechless.

This had never happened before. Not to him. He'd had many cases transferred to him on extremely short notice (once, notably, only ten minutes before the trial began), but he had never had a case of his transferred to someone else.

Chief Prosecutor Skye did not trust him with this case. She must have realized, somehow, that he was faltering in his resolve, and acted accordingly by removing him. It was a logical decision. Surgically so, Miles thought, like removing a diseased limb to prevent the infection from spreading. Was the case the diseased limb? Or was Miles?

"That's not the only reason," Chief Skye continued after a pause that felt much longer to Miles than it was in actuality. "I was recently made aware of who exactly would be representing the defendant, and with your history, I thought you wouldn't want to be against her again."

"Chief Prosecutor, I completely understand your decision. There is no need to justify yourself. I will pass my current notes to Mr. Payne right away," Miles forced out.

Chief Skye nodded. "Thanks for being understanding. I'm sorry about the short notice."

"You're perfectly alright," Miles said.

He turned around, briefcase clutched in shaking hands, and descended the stairs to search for Mr. Payne's office.

Usually on trial days, Phoenix would just meet Mia at the courthouse. He'd sleep in a bit, get dressed slowly, and enter the defendant lobby with a relaxed, well-rested air.

This morning, though, the memory of the man inside the office the night before had Phoenix tossing and turning, and when his regular work alarm went off, instead of silencing it, he grudgingly got ready to head to the office. The August heat was enough to kill a normal man, and biking in a full suit was nearly enough to finish off Phoenix, abnormal as he was. The lack of sleep definitely wasn't helping. Not for the first time, Phoenix was thankful that he wasn't the one doing the thinking in court — he'd be flying by the seat of his pants.

Mia was already in the office when he arrived, and she seemed reasonably surprised to see him. Phoenix stopped before he had a chance to start talking as his eyes caught on a new piece of decor.

"Morning, Chief. Cool lamp."

Mia looked behind her at the glass floor lamp balanced precariously on a short bookshelf. "Oh, that. I ordered it a while ago. It just shipped last night, so I stayed late to set it up. What do you think?"

"Looks… fragile, but very fancy," Phoenix decided. "Actually, speaking of last night, I was around and I saw something kind of weird."

"You were 'around?' Did anybody see you?" Mia asked, eyebrows furrowed.

"Nope, but I saw somebody. He was big, purple hair, pink suit, a ton of rings. He was messing with the office phone." Phoenix tried to sound casual.

It didn't work. Mia's face was deadly serious. "Purple hair and a pink suit? You're sure? It wasn't just the light?"

"It could've been, but the colors weren't exactly muted," Phoenix said.

"Did he take anything? Move anything?" Mia stood and started scanning her bookshelves.

Phoenix shook his head. "No, he just did something to the phone. I think he was taking it apart. I didn't stay for long, though, and he was already there when I showed up."

Mia wasn't listening. She was pulling files off of her shelf, scanning through them with single-minded focus. The files she pulled out seemed random. A few under "W," some under "S," specific files from "F," "E," and "G." Only once she'd pulled files and folders from all over her shelf did she lean back, satisfied.

"Okay. I need to check the phone. Can you look for anything else suspicious in the office?" Mia asked.

Phoenix gave a thumbs up, but hesitated. "We've only got an hour until the trial, Chief. We should wait."

"If the intruder is who I think it is, we can't afford to wait," Mia argued. "Do you se anything? Any bugs, anything moved?"

Phoenix gave the office a quick scan, but nothing stuck out. Mia was leaning over the office phone with a mini-screwdriver, meticulously taking it apart.

The cover popped off, and Mia sucked in a breath. Phoenix was at her side in a second.

"It's a wiretap," Phoenix whispered. "A listening device. Chief, did you call anybody this morning? About anything?"

Mia shook her head. "Not yet, thank God. I don't take calls before trials."

"Right. Okay. So, we take this off and lock the doors and hope the guy doesn't come back." Phoenix felt dread rise in his stomach as he laid ut the plan.

Mia looked desperate. "Is there any chance you could stay behind and watch the office?"

Phoenix hesitated. "Larry's my friend. I owe him. Plus, I can tell when he's about to say something stupid."

Mia nodded and started gathering her case, but it was slow. "You're indispensable behind the bench, Phoenix. You know that. But if White comes back, I trust you to be there. I don't want to leave all this unattended."

"White? You know the guy who bugged you?" Phoenix asked.

"Maybe. I hope it isn't him, but… Prepare for the worst, right?" Mia gave a weak smile.

"This is the worst? Why haven't I heard of this guy?" Phoenix was following Mia out of the office. He locked the door behind them, and for extra measure, sealed the gaps with some webbing. Risky in public and out of costume, but the tension leaving Mia's shoulders was worth it. It was only a little bit, though.

"You've heard of him," Mia said. "You just don't know it. He keeps his name out of criminal business."

"But how? No one's that sneaky."

"You can be when you've got all the hush money in the world."

Phoenix and Mia made identical faces of disgust. Any other day, it would've been funny.

"I'll tell you more about White after the trial," Mia said as they approached the courthouse. "It's a lot to explain right now. I didn't want you involved, but if he's getting this bold, I might need your help."

Phoenix had a hundred more questions that he wanted to ask, but they were running late already, and Larry was waiting for them. He'd just have to be satisfied with an explanation later.

As Mia stepped into the courtroom, all of her lingering anxiety seemed to wash away. Her shoulders relaxed, her posture straightened, she walked with purpose. Phoenix loved seeing Mia like this. She looked more like a superhero than he ever did. She was saving lives in this courtroom, sparing the innocent and putting away the guilty with her total loyalty to the truth.

She was better than him. Maybe it was hero-worship, but Phoenix didn't care. He'd chase her shadow for the rest of his life, if it meant knowing that she was still saving people. He might be the superpowered one, but she was the hero.

That was all he needed to know.

ao3

[traitorca]

My Iron Lung - The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader - 5

Masterlist

hey guys!! orca here- todays a SUPER short chapter! I wrote this while on a plane so I just thought some more- in depth character explanation would be fun? So!! Chapter 5!!

tw: vomiting? daryl makes a semi sexist ed comment. reader does not have an ed.

The past few days seem to fly by pretty fast, the awkward feeling in camp became less tense now that you and Shane had made amends.

To your dismay, you hadn’t done much to improve the relationship (if you could call it that) you had started with Daryl. You had short conversations here and there, most of them ending with a curt way of saying “piss off”. Of course, saying he did it curtly was your way of saying that he was such an asshole about it- but you preferred to see the best in people sometimes.

He did- however, seem to humor the idea of teaching you how to track. That excited you more than clean laundry, and that was saying a lot, considering that was something you imagine most people would kill for. Thankfully for your group at the quarry, you had access to fresh, semi-clean water. The women at camp seemed to be the default choice to wash it however, which is something you highly questioned- but as of now, you’ve never been asked to assist. You knew it was because to everyone else, you were held higher in importance; You were included in Shane’s decision making, clearly making you a leader and vital number to the group.

But you wondered if that’s all you were to them. A number. A long shot in the dark to finding a cure.

You knew, deep down, something about that patient of yours in the hospital was unorthodox. Even though the body had no pulse, even though there was no blood flow- there was brain activity. As if the body was on auto pilot. They weren’t alive, nor acted like it. The body was a cadaver, nothing more, nothing less.

Or was it.

Could you be to blame? Was your subject of study the cause? The catalyst to something this extreme? If you hadn’t been called, if you hadn’t left the UK- could you have stopped it?

If Rick hadn’t been shot, would you have been killed instead?

These thoughts weren’t healthy, nor normal- but something in you crawled, burying itself in your gut. You were going to be sick.

You stumbled into the woods, hand covering your mouth as you hurriedly made your way to a bush. Bile rose to your throat in the form of claws, tearing at your esophagus. Flashes of teeth, eyes- blood. Red. Red. Red.

RED.

You threw up. The guilt of your brothers abandoned body in a hospital bed breathing down your neck. You held your own hair to the side of your shoulder, other hand bracing your weight on your knee.

You threw up again. This time, you could feel the guilt of your job- something you failed to do, weigh across the blades of your shoulders. You coughed, blinking as black dots seemed to vanish from view, revealing the world again.

There was no red, there were no teeth, there were no claws- just a bush that had unfortunately felt the wrath of your weak stomach.

How embarrassing.

But, for once…the world was quiet, save for the birds that calmly sung through the trees. It was all… surreal. Everything seemed normal. A brief glimpse of your childhood, your parents, your brother.

You missed it, honestly. The life before you grew up. You’d give anything to go bac-

“Hey-! The hell you doin’?” Daryl approached, cross bow slung over his shoulder as he had a cig in his mouth. He had seen you run from camp.

You jerked, wiping your mouth and clearing your throat. “N-Nothing-! I just-“ there was no point in lying. “I felt sick. Don’t look in the bush. Seriously.”

He irked at that, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Didn’t take you for someone with a weak stomach. You sick or sumin’?”

“Awe, you care?”

“As if. S’ wonderin’ if I need to stay further away from ya’ is all.” He spat, eyes looking at the floor.

“I’m not sick. Just- felt like… throwing up?”

“You one of those girls?”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You purge yourself or sum’ shit? Woulda figured that disorder shit disappeared with the rest of this shit-“

“No- no! I just- got really upset. It made me sick.”

“Hm. Sounds like bullshit.”

“Get your hearing checked, then, asshole.”

“Maybe if you made any damn sense, I would understand.”

“Read a book, Dixon.”

“Learn to shoot, Grimes.”

“I CAN shoot-“

“Bullshit.”

“Then teach me. If you don’t believe I can shoot, teach me. I’ll prove you wrong.”

He went quiet there.

“Ahah!” You cheered in victiry “got you, smartass.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Huh-?”

“Before dawn. Wake your ass up or I’ll leave ya. We’ll go hunt.”

taglist:🏷️:

@poubxlle @kovieky @fallenkitten @dixonsboy19 @gamingfeline

[gunilslaugh]

your works are so beautifully written! can i ask a gaon oneshot where he is jealous of one of his members?

Thank you :) Here's your request!

Kwak Jiseok

Summary:Jiseok finds that he always seems to have this little green monster with him whenever he sees you with Jooyeon. 

WC:1.5k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credits to owner.

It was a slightly cloudy day with a gentle breeze. You and the Xdinary Heroes members were out enjoying the nice weather by having a picnic at a park. Food littered around the blankets you all sat on. Everyone was either chatting amongst themselves or doing their own thing. Gunil and Hyeongjun were brainstorming some lyrics. Seungmin was passed out with a bag of chips in his hand. Jungsu and Jiseok were taking photos of him. All while you and Jooyeon were playing a game together on your phones.

Being too distracted by the game to feel a pair of eyes land on you. They were Jiseok’s. He watched you smack Jooyeons hand away from your phone due to his attempt to mess you up, scolding him to stop it before you retaliate. When Jooyeon didn’t listen, now you’re the one to put your hands on his phone in an effort to mess him up. Jiseok couldn’t help but feel covetous consequent to witnessing this scene between you and Jooyeon. He doesn’t know why he feels this way though. When you interact with the other members he never envies them. Wishing it was him beside you instead of them, so what is it about Jooyeon that makes him feel so.

“Jealous much?” Jungsu interrupts his train of thought.

“What?” he questions, pulling his eyes away from what he thought was a bitter sight.

“Dude I could practically see you turning green,” Jungsu says.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about? I’m not jealous,” Jiseok rebuttals, despite knowing very well that he was.

“If you really like y/n then why don’t you just confess to them?” Jungsu opts for changing the topic.

“But I don’t even know why I feel jealous when they’re with Jooyeon. I don’t feel like this when they’re with the rest of you,” Jiseok ignored Jungsu’s question. Exposing the act that he wasn’t jealous by doing so.

“That probably means you’re scared that they might have feelings for Jooyeon,” Jungsu counsels. 

“Do you think that they do?” Now Jiseok was scared.

“No, Y/n doesn’t like Jooyeon nor vice versa,” Jungsu states. Jiseok feels relieved by his words, but he still can’t totally shake the thought. “Just don’t glare at Jooyeon so hard that he gets holes in his head alright?” Jungsu pats Jiseok on the back.

Jiseok tried, he really tried to not let seeing you spending time with Jooyeon bother him. To not let it cause a bitter taste in his mouth or a bubbling in his stomach, but he couldn’t. Anytime you were with Jooyeon, a little green monster was with him. He concluded that this little jealousy wasn’t gonna go away. He was left with no choice but to confront it. 

The next time you were at their dorm Jiseok whisked you away to his room. Not letting you get out anything past a hi to his members.

“Were you that excited to see me?” You asked, taken aback by how fast he quite literally pulled you into his shared room.

“It’s just you and Jooyeon seem close these days. I missed hanging out with you one on one,” Jiseok admits to you. 

“Aww,” you reached out a hand ruffling his hair. “I missed hanging out with you too,” 

“How come you two are so close recently?” Jiseok quizzes you. There’s a hint of something in his voice, but you can’t quite pinpoint what it is. Perhaps it’s because of the bit of panic that his question stirs in you. You can’t tell Jiseok that you got closer to Jooyeon because he found out about your crush on him. 

“Uh we just started playing games together. It turned out to be quite bonding I guess,” it wasn’t a complete lie. You did play some games with Jooyeon. It’s just more of  your time was spent with Jooyeon teasing you about hopelessly pinning over Jiseok than actually playing those games. 

“Ah I see, that’s nice,” Jiseok states with a fake smile. Again being envious of you bonding with Jooyeon rather than him. 

“You seem to be spending more time with Jungsu,” you brought up.

“Oh…yeah,” he knows about my crush on you and how I’m jealous anytime I see you being close with Jooyeon so y’know quite bonding. Except he can’t say that. “We just have more to talk about lately,” is what he says instead and it’s technically not a lie. 

“That’s nice,” you replied using a tone similar to his when he spoke the same words earlier.

“Maybe we should find an activity to bond over,” Jiseok suggests, hoping it would keep you away from Jooyeon, so he wouldn’t need to see his little green monster friend again.

“I’d really like that,” you told him, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

“How about we do puzzles together?” he suggests.

“Ooh yes I love puzzles,” you say.

“Great, I think I have one in the closet. Give me a second,” Jiseok tells you as he goes over to the closet and begins to dig through it. “I found it,” he declares, walking back over to you with the puzzle box in hand. The two of you made yourselves comfortable on the floor and began doing the puzzle. Every so often your hands would brush against one anothers as you each reached for pieces. Which caused you to get distracted by thoughts of what it would be like to hold his hand, play with his fingers, bracelets, rings. 

“Would you like to do the honors?” he asks you as you guys were finally down to the last piece of the puzzle.

“Let’s do it together,” you say. It was the perfect excuse to hold his hand. You placed your hand on top of his as the both of you pushed the last piece into its spot. 

You and Jiseok continued to have puzzling sessions at least once a week. You’ve only fallen for him deeper in the process and so has he for you, yet neither of you were aware of  these facts about the other.

 Meanwhile Jungsu and Jooyeon grew more and more frustrated the longer the two of you kept your requited feelings towards yourself. Jungsu ended up spilling the beans to Jooyeon about Jiseok’s jealousy over you and Jooyeon being close. This led to Jooyeon telling Jungsu that you guys had only gotten close because of him finding out about your crush on Jiseok. Thus the two of them hatched a plan, involving Jiseok’s jealousy of course, to get the two of you together.

Jooyeon invited you over to the dorm with the guise of wanting to play games. You agreed not thinking anything of it. You found out that when you got there it wasn’t just you and Jooyeon playing games. Mario Kart was set up on the t.v and you were informed that Jungsu and Jiseok would be joining. 

Jooyeon was being extra clingy towards you. Constantly leaning into your side and trying to mess you up while you played. Just as Jungsu and Jooyeon planned, this caused Jiseok’s little green monster to visit him once again. Although this time Jiseok found that it wasn’t so little anymore. His mouth was overwhelmed with a bitter flavor. Instead of it being a little knot in his stomach. The jealousy had seemingly taken over all of him. Jungsu had noticed that Jiseok looked like he was about to explode.

“Jooyeon, let's go pick up drinks from the convenient store,” Jungsu stated. Successfully leaving you and Jiseok alone in the dorm.

“Y/n,” Jiseok called your attention, once he had calmed himself down a bit.

“Yes?” you replied. 

“I don’t like it when you’re that close with Jooyeon. It makes me feel jealous, but you’re not even mine, so I feel like I can’t do anything about it,” Jiseok reveals what he’s been hiding from you. You take a moment to process his words. The guy you had been hopelessly pinning over likes you back and is jealous over you too top it off.

“Well since we’re being honest. I only got close to Jooyeon because he found out about my crush on you,” you admitted.

“So that means you like me too?” Jiseok questions.

“Yes, I like you too Jiseok,” after hearing your words, the green monster finally leaves Jiseok’s side for good. You open your arms for a hug. Jiseok is quick to respond, tightly wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“You wanna do a puzzle?” Jiseok proposes. 

“Yeah let’s go,” This time you’re the one pulling Jiseok to his room.

“Finally,” Jungsu sighs from the other side of the dorm's door. Where he and Jooyeon previously had their ears pressed up against listening to you and Jiseok finally confessing your feelings.

“We really should go get those drinks now though,” Jooyeon said. The two of them walk away to go get their celebratory drinks. You and Jiseok were too busy holding hands while doing a puzzle to even notice that they had been gone a bit too long for a simple convenient store trip.

[kunikinnie]

a/n: i was reading a shoujo manga for... research purposes and there was this portion... ye

warnings: profanity, mentions of sexual harrassment

reacting to you going to a mixer/group date

featuring: Ranpo, Akutagawa, Kunikida x GN!Reader

Edogawa Ranpo

He's annoyed as hell. Not at the fact that you were indeed going to a mixer, but rather that he knew that your intention was to make him jealous and it's working.

Fine, have it your way. You're old enough to do what you want and he's mature enough not to be too affected by it. Besides, there's no reason for Ranpo to be - you're in love with him anyway, so why worry?

It still doesn't lessen the bitter taste in his mouth, though. Seriously you're just wasting time.

He'll bitch about it openly for days until the mixer. That includes questioning your life choices, trash talking men in general, and actively sulking in his desk.

After the date, however, he'll be the quietest he's ever been. He both observes you intently and avoids thinking about you at the same time. Did you really enjoy it that much? Did- did you no longer like him the way you used to? The answer to that is something he's not ready to determine for himself, even if it's clear as day that you still love him very much. His brain's a jumbled mess that he's not sure if he keeps second-guessing himself.

Depending on how you act, he might semi-accidentally confront/confess to you after that.

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

He has never been to one nor has even entertained the idea of it, so when he learned of it he was not sure what to feel.

It's not exactly the same as dating, right? So if it was just harmless, commitment-less fun then he wouldn't question it further.

It's when he hears of the harassment that can occur when his anger soars.

Yes, he's confident in your abilities, but to subject yourself to it? Why do that? All for the slim chance of finding a potential partner? Are you that desperate?

To constantly seek approval and appreciation... he knows that feeling all too well and he'd hate for you to endure the same fate.

He'll actually try and stop you from going. He's that worried.

(Or the image of lewd men ogling all over you is just so exaggerated in his head that even Akutagawa wonders why the heck you'd choose those fiends over him.)

Whether or not you go is still up to you, of course. But if you do go, there is a small chance that he will be nearby... just in case he's needed, you know?

If he finds out there's someone you liked even by just a little bit, he'll emotionally and literally distance himself from you. He just can't handle it.

Otherwise, the weight lifted from his mind relieves him by a ton. Not that he'll do anything new to get closer to you, unfortunately, but perhaps he takes a step closer to that.

Kunikida Doppo

You're free to do as you please, so he says nothing and pretends to be cool with it all. Deep inside, however, a million thoughts bounce in his mind all the while.

Was it a sign that you weren't into him? If it was, then could he still do something to change your mind? Or will doing that harm your relationship even more?

Now Kunikida never considered himself to be the attractive sort of guy, but he's not half bad, wasn't he? Hidden insecurities suddenly surface and he gets all anxious.

Being the open book that he is these feelings will seep out during work. Maybe he'll be a little less patient, a little more irritable, and definitely a little sad. As long as the whole affair isn't shoved into his face by you and especially by that idiot, he wouldn't burst.

The way he copes with it is he runs over his ideal partner list and tells himself that maybe you weren't meant for each other (and other bs) in order to convince himself it's nothing he should be affected by.

And yet the moment you walk by he knows he's deeply affected. Damn he liked you this much? Enough to burn that whole list and every similar thought to the ground? Yes. Yes he did.

He'll be available for you if you need him. Do you need someone to rant/cry to after the mixer? Then feel free to call him. Need someone to gush about it without judgement? It hurts, but again he'll be there. Need someone to kick some sketchy dude's ass? Then hell yes, he'll be ready to help you.

The way he reacts to you after the event depends on yours. just like Akutagawa. But unlike him he wouldn't leave your side, even only as a friend, since his loyalty to you surpasses any hurt he may have.

[thelunarfairy]

Maybe its just me but I feel like Hanako almost treats Tsukasa like an ex he wants to avoid who still has feelings for him

Hahahahahahahahah EXACTLY!

It seems that it is increasingly difficult to ignore the signs that these two may have had a love beyond brotherly.

Is not it?

How Tsukasa almost always blushes when he's around Amane, when he talks about him. How they are seen holding hands so often, how Tsukasa likes to throw himself at Hanako and he holds him back.

Let me tell you the recipe to make Hanako fall in love with you.

First, treat him very well, say that you see him as a friend, show trust in him above all else, then add a little passivity, yes, he likes to feel responsible for having to protect, he likes to make decisions and feel in leadership.

Then, demonstrate that he is important to you, and that you will not give up on him even if he is complicated, he has this insecurity, you know. Allow him to touch you, he likes to hug you, but be careful, sometimes he may want to touch you in places he shouldn't, don't be afraid to stop him.

Last but not least, tell him you like him, don't feel bad if you have to repeat it several times, this is the spice he likes most, hearing that he is loved by someone. He'll get a little possessive of you, but since it was your choice to follow this recipe, that's just a bonus.

The item in the recipe that you have the option to include, but I advise against it, is the sacrifice, he doesn't like that, he wants to have you well, so don't give your life for him. Even if it is a very controversial act of love.

Did you write down the entire recipe?

So, come create a little fanfic with me, come, get comfortable.

Ahem, let's get started.

Once upon a time there were two twin brothers

Amane was a sickly little boy, and Tsukasa, his younger brother, did everything for him. At a certain point, Amane discovers that his younger brother sacrificed himself for him, but returned.

"He… gave his life for me? Did he do this to save me?"

A different love begins to be born in little Amane's chest

"What kind of feeling is that?" -he asked himself, fearing that it was something wrong to feel that sensation.

Tsukasa, the youngest brother, has a devotion to little Amane, he spoils him, he is always available when he wants, he does everything for him, and Amane ends up getting used to it.

Amane was such a shy little boy, the only one who could understand him was his little brother, oh but Tsukasa was so popular. Amane had to share him with his friends sometimes, did that irritate little Amane?

Oh, what a pain. Why would Amane not like seeing his little brother pay attention to someone other than him?

"What is this feeling?" - he asked himself again.

"A forbidden love?" - what an incredible observation Amane managed to make.

But Amane, it's Tsukasa, what do you intend to do?

"I can't, we're brothers, we can't do this…. I can't have this feeling for him, I can't"

"But.."

But?

"I don't want him to be with anyone else"

Oh, how selfish Amane, are you sure?

….

That question has never been answered. One fine day, Amane decided that the two of them would fall asleep together for eternity… At least, that's what Amane thought, he was tricked and found guilty. It's time to pay for his sins, come back before he is disowned. They come back.

"Why did you do that Amane? Why did you kill me?" - asked Tsukasa, cowering in the darkness, as he looked at the surroundings of that dark and gloomy place.

All that echoed off the walls was silence. Amane never answered his question, Amane wasn't there when he woke up. He didn't hear the questions, nor the painful calls that Tsukasa made. Calling him by name constantly.

Tsukasa's voice was muffled within those walls, oh, if walls could talk.

Amane wants Tsukasa for himself, so he trapped him in his castle forever, before Tsukasa finds a way to escape.

Tsukasa made Amane love him suffocatingly, and now, he can't escape from his arms….

What will be the next chapters?

It's a mystery….

The end.

Hahahaha sorry, I had fun doing this. Anyway, it seems that Amane felt something more towards Tsukasa, the explicit and even symbolic signs that appear around them show this. But, because it is something forbidden and wrong, perhaps Amane backed off, he has difficulty relating to Nene, can you imagine with his own brother?

Tsukasa said that he and Nene are the same, when she said that she liked Hanako ROMANTICALLY, Tsukasa knows, he asked if Kou had already kissed her, so he knows very well what he is talking about.

And he says BLUSHING, that he is just like Nene. Haha ha

An interesting thing is to note that Tsukasa is not jealous, he asked Hanako if he was going to kiss Nene too, that is, he doesn't care if Nene is between them, he can kiss her too.

So yes, it seems that their current relationship is that of "ex", and Tsukasa seems to be the one who is trying to apologize while Hanako is hurt about something and that's why he broke up.

It is always Tsukasa who shows affection and love for Hanako while he is always avoiding or running away.

But at the same time, Hanako doesn't care about Tsukasa's touch or anything like that. Because he loves him.

Let's remember that none of this is canon, and it could be that Aidairo just wants to play with their relationship and none of this comes to fruition, but we have to assume that the signs are all there.

I don't ship them both, just to be clear, but it would be very naive of me to ignore all these things that are screaming in my face hahaha

Anyway, these two still leave me confused, I still need to make a post about it.

[kiefbowl]

I do kiiiind of understand where anon's frustration to an extent? Men are encouraged to do things for selfish reasons, while women are demonized for not being unfailingly selfless and accommodating.

Notice how rich men are praised more than rich women? Elon Musk is an innovative, hardworking genius while Taylor Swift is a selfish money hungry demon. There's far more pressure on female celebrities to remain humble and "give back", and they're often vilified if they don't. Not saying giving back is bad, but why aren't men expected to do the same?

I also noticed a pattern at my work where men want promotions because they want the extra pay and benefits while the women do it because they want to benefit the team. Again, not saying there's anything wrong with that at all, but it seems almost taboo for women to admit they want anything for themselves. Like, it's okay to go after that promotion because you want a bigger paycheck. Anyway, didn't mean for this to get long. It's just a dynamic I've noticed.

Sure, but this isn't unaddressed in feminist theory (from many different angles). If anon had wanted to ask honest questions and get my honest perspective, then I would have given them that. but they were just being goofy and antagonistic. they don't care.

plus, the selfishness of men doesn't prove the value of selfish behavior. Women being socialized into certain behaviors doesn't necessarily mean those behaviors are worthless to women. In fact, part of the socialization process of everyone is to create an idea or image or association with certain observable behaviors that are then assumed to be innate and objective when they are cultural. Nice is a good behavior, has lots of social benefits, can get you many things, and being nice is often an innate personality trait. But a woman being nice has cultural baggage attached to it that is not objective nor intrinsic to being nice or being a woman, but humans assume their cultural perspectives are observations of the objective and intrinsic. She's not just nice, she' nurturing. If she's not nice, it's not because that's just her human personality, no she's defectively acting against her womanly nature. Etc.

My advice to women en masse is to start prioritizing their happiness and health, and to be selfish when it's due, which many women assume is never, but frankly is often. You don't owe random strangers a whole lot in the day to day. My other advice is to be highly critical of men's behaviors, which are often not due or completely unsolicited, precisely because men feel entitled to every thought and whim they have. Like all things, nothing can be analyzed in a vacuum, because we don't live in a vacuum. If a woman needs to be appeasing to an abusive boyfriend until she can figure out how to escape him because she fears she'll die if she doesn't, I'm not interested in pulling apart each individual behavior of hers as either socialized or not, and feminine or not, not without the context of the larger situation she's in at least.

If anon wants to wear make up, no one is stopping her. If she wants to wear make up and also have random feminists she's identified online as needing to validate that choice, then she will get flack, because she isn't entitled to that.

[lupuslikethewolf]

it really does piss me off when people call the war against the others 'the north's war' or 'the stark's war' or 'jon's/sansa's war' and claim that daenerys was helping because she just wanted to or something along those lines

as if the north/night's watch/the stark's/common sense wasn't saying the entire time "if these guys manage to defeat us they will come and kill all of you too, and have an army of millions of soldiers that cannot die to do so."

dany deciding to fight in the war in seasons 7/8 was not simply an act of compassion or allyship or whatnot, it was an act of self-preservation and (kinda) proactivity, considering that the war against the others is everyone's war. not just the north's, not just the stark's, and not just the night's watch.

the show and the books have been telling us the entire time that, when people get too caught up in politics and playing the "game of thrones", they end up ignoring, if not helping, the actual threat.

in fact, her fighting in the war is beneficial to her if she wishes to establish a reputation as the hero, and the liberator, coming first to conquer or reclaim, but then deciding that stopping the apocalypse is actually more important than ambition for the throne. whether or not i agree with that statement is a bit iffy, considering she needed the north to help in the fight as much as they needed her, but it is good PR.

no-one is indebted to dany because she decided to fight against the long night alongside everyone else, who had been doing it/preparing for it for far longer than she had. if the north/house stark had not sent word to dany, she would have been caught completely unawares and likely suffered a far worse fate at the hands of the others.

they helped each other, as just because dany had dragons and an army, she had no way of knowing what would kill the others or the wights, or what the legends surrounding them were, or even that it was a threat to be addressed until it would have been too late.

now this isn't me saying that i at all agree with the directions of seasons 6/7/8, or with how D+D handled the aftermath of the war with others, or jon, or dany, or any of the show in the later seasons really. dany (among others) absolutely deserved much better treatment, and so many characters were absolutely assassinated for no reason (*coughjoncough*). but, working with the material we have, dany made the only intelligent choice in those circumstances. the north are not supposed to worship for acknowledging what they have been saying and preparing for since the beginning: 'winter is coming'.

they helped each other: just because dany arrived at the war with the westerosi equivalent of nukes does not mean that everything else that was done by the north was useless compared to that. it was their land, and funds, and food stores, and shelter that was providing for dany's army and dany's dragons. "what do dragon's eat, anyway?" is a legitimate concern when you are trying to feed an entire nation of people during winter. "whatever they want" is not helpful here, babes, even if it is a badass line. my girl was just trying to figure out how to feed your kids without starving everyone else.

what happened after the long night is a different story entirely, but when it comes down to the actual war, there was never any question of what dany should do/should have done. had she ignored the others, and instead focused on "conquering" westeros, in the end, there would have been no westeros for her to conquer and rule.

tl:dr: the north is not to blame for what happened to dany during the long night, as if she had chosen to simply ignore the problem, it would have been so much worse for her in the end. nor are they indebted to her, as the problem would have become hers anyway, except on a much larger scale with much worse consequences. they helped each other, because it was never the north vs the others, it was humanity vs the others. life vs death.

[narukouzumakinamikaze]

so what if the lov are only fighting for themselves or for each other? In a society that leaves them to suffer and die, why shouldn't they fight to survive? Or for revenge or any of their desires? What do they owe the 'innocent people' who look the other way as bloody children walk alone in the crowded streets?

People like you always say the lov and similar characters had other choices, had options and didn't have to be the way they are, but then never actually give any examples of the ways they could have done that. Surviving with a quirk that works against you, discrimination, changing an uncaring society, you have no answer to any of these yet condemn those who fight back 'the wrong way' even though fighting back 'the right way' has been shown to be ineffective.

Asking the 'villains' to roll over and accept abuse or even death for the sake of 'innocent people' who wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire, does not make you the better person.

I don’t care if the LOV are fighting for themselves. What’s annoying is the fandom and the LOV Stan’s acting like they’re fighting for more than themselves. They’re not fighting to survive. The only one you can even make a claim for is spinner and that is based around the terrible developed mutant discrimination subplot. And what do you mean what do they owe the innocent. The key word is innocent.. do you think innocent people deserve to die?

How about the choice to not kill innocent people… nothing about their characters depends on them killing innocent people. But here’s an alternate question how do you save the villains? Because y’all always talk about the villains need to be saved, but yet none of y’all have an answer as to how that looks like and how that works? Y’all want them to be saved, how?? Are the heroes supposed to let them kill innocent people because they had a sob story? Are heroes supposed to become therapist now? Are heroes not meant to stop them?? So you’re saying that AFO should win this war because it’ll allow the villains to kill as much as they want? Innocent people aren’t harming them.. the only person who didn’t have an actual choice is shigaraki and I can make an argument for Toga because her Quirk. Shigaraki because he was being groomed by AFO and Toga because it’s her quirks nature. Dabi didn’t have to join the LOV to get revenge against endeavor, nor did he have to kill innocent people because they have nothing to do with endeavors abuse.. And that goes for everyone except the two that I named. Shigaraki’s character revolves around the AFO VS OFA and Tigas is based upon her parents failure to help her with her quirk. These are the only two that makes sense.

Asking the villains to not kill people isn’t asking them to accept abuse or even death. It just means stop killing innocent people. I don’t understand how saying, killing innocent people is wrong, means accept abuse and death.. because that doesn’t even make sense

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

Okay so this might not be the best explanation cause I have no proof nor did I ever speak to Maddie or mycoven. I was just hanging out at the og blog but mycovenofchaos and Maddie had VERY different ways of writing.

Maddie was prone to long walls of text and mycoven wrote short messages. Maddie never used emojis but mycoven did.

mycoven’s English was pretty good despite some mistakes.

But Maddie’s English was off. She claimed to be from Alabama ? Indiana ? but it seemed like a French person speaking English. I speak French and her grammar mistakes, syntax and expressions seemed like how a French speaking person would speak English; like direct translation or something. Def not a native speaker, what I’m trying to say. You say she might be Brazilian but I don’t speak Brazilian Portuguese so if anyone does, maybe they can drop in their two cents on that?

OG admin had said she did not believe in soulmates so Maddie was the one leading the conversations on the soulmate. Followers were asking a thousand questions on the soulmate, even insinuating that OG admin or Maddie were the soulmate. Or that they were witches casting spells on Evan to manifest him. That’s when OG admin stopped publishing asks on that subject. It was also getting tiring for us followers to see repeated questions and answers lol.

mycoven tried to be the voice of reason a couple of times when things got unhinged. Maddie would drop a bomb and then act innocent.

So all of this to say that I don’t think mycoven and Maddie are the same person. I don’t even think mycoven caused any trouble to you, honestly. I think she got caught in the trap of Maddie. OG admin was just smart to bounce. But Maddie definitely insisted on the existence of a soulmate.

The whole experience was WILD, girl. Like I understand why og admin vanished off the face of the earth.

first off - biiig thank you for weighing in. appreciate your perspective. there's a few things you shared that are food for thought.. hmm. mycovenofchaos and i's interaction in DMs the last night before she deactivated - the way she was typing was just very... off? i guess you can say unlike her, it was just a different vibe. but it was more clear then that she is ESL, and maddie was too, in my opinion. as you said, it can be pretty easy to pick up on whether or not someone is a native speaker.

if i go back into my screenshot folder i'm sure i can find some asks that i, at the time, had a sense were from ''maddie''. once i became aware i kept a closer eye on things on the OG blog because it was starting to trickle into my ask box. the puzzle pieces are kinda fitting together - the soulmate readings pretty early on were indicative of his lover being from another country, if i recall correctly, and i think those were courtesy of maddie. yet when describing "herself", she claimed to be american and that her fashion sense was very bohemian chic, that sort of vibe. she sent a pinterest board style image describing herself physically. it seems like her primary goal was to self-insert her maddie persona as an obvious choice for the ''soulmate'' position that she was pressing. with ''maddie'' being in the states and the actual user being elsewhere, they may have thought they were keeping it from being ''obvious'' or any accusations that they were just cooking up a story where they could be soulmates with evan. now, someone is sending one of the tarot readers message after message trying to ''sell'' the idea that maddie is evan's soulmate. this is all so fucking WILD, but it's actually getting interesting lmfao if everyone sticks around, i have a feeling i'll get to the bottom of it one day. i am a sneaky little bastard when i want to be.

all to say, you very well may be right, and some may remember that i used to actually complain about a particular french visitor who would routinely send me messages about haley lu, soulmate business and whatnot. same type of stuff happening now.

mycovenofchaos is brazilian, FYI. we've spoken before. it was all positive and love until evan got with natalie and i posted about it. which is actually sad. meh.