#but if nobody else in my close family circle does then i have to essentially stay strong and remind myself that they're wrong

[strozzaprete]

not to be morbid on main but my life is so strange every day i'm fighting with my inner suicidal child trying to convince her to stay alive out of spite for our enemies

[kitkatopinions]

Nitpick Number Three for Nitpick November

Still talking about Maidens, Amber really isn't much of a character at all and that's annoying to me. I know she dies not long after we first meet her and her only appearance in the show has no lines, but there's still a way to make her something by having people talk about her.

Qrow could've been her friend and talked to the kids about her as a person sometime in volume four, Ozpin could've reflected on her as a person while talking about the Maidens later or while he was talking to Pyrrha, Glynda or Ironwood could've told Pyrrha about who she was instead of just what she was. I've always said that Summer should've been discussed by her family more if the writers wanted her to be important, but at least she gets a couple character descriptions. Unlike Summer, Amber isn't ever treated like she's important to the narrative or story of the show, she's just 'the Maiden before Cinder' that Pyrrha was planning to inherit powers from, so that's why this is a nitpick whereas my complaints about Summer are a bit more than one.

But does it bug anyone else that Pyrrha heard that nobody knew what it would do to give Pyrrha the aura that was tied to Amber and yet Pyrrha doesn't ask who she was as a person? Does it bug anyone else that not one of Oz's inner circle volunteers that information or even tells Pyrrha just one character trait in passing? Does it bug anyone else that it seems like she was part of the Inner Circle before her murder or at least very close to it and yet not one of the Inner Circle members is ever shown grieving her after her death?

I mean, I can fill in the blanks. I can say she and Qrow were friends, and that it's one reason why his behavior was worse in volume three than in volumes four and five because unbeknownst to the kids he was grieving the loss of a friend who hadn't even died yet, I can say that in my headcanons Pyrrha had pressed Ozpin or Glynda for details 'off screen' and that one of the reasons she went through with it was because she felt like the description of Amber was similar to her personality or to the person she wanted to be, and I can headcanon that although she was a relatively new Maiden, she actually had gone to Beacon with Team STRQ. But she's essentially a non-character, more of a side character than Sage and Scarlet in Team SSSN were in the show. And I just think that's a shame, because making her at least a bit more of a character could've gone towards establishing Oz's Inner Circle more as characters themselves and it could've made Pyrrha's Maiden choice more interesting.

[miekasa]

your dad!levi headcanons made my day. would you happen to have any thoughts about dad!eren?🥺

Unfortunately... I do 🤒🤒 he’d be such a determined but fun dad, like I don’t think he'd be completely lax, but he's not an authoritarian either, but he definitely butts heads with his kids when they get a little older and more rambunctious, and you gotta remind him to be patient with them because... because they're exactly how he was when he was 8 😭😭

He was stupid excited when he found out you were gonna have kids. Like, way more excited than you thought he’d be; you’ve maybe mentioned kids in passing or casually, and he was never negative about the prospect of them, but he had never shown this level of excitement before.

He gets even more excited when you find out you’re having twins. And then reality hits him that you’re having twins. That means two of them. At the same time. Yeah, he might have been excited about one, but two... the whole dad thing really kicks in right there. 

He has this period of time where he’s definitely still supporting you and being positive throughout your pregnancy, but then he’ll lay awake at night scared shitless of the fact that he’s gotta raise two kids. He starts freaking out so bad, Mikasa has to slap some sense into him. 

He’s losing it one night at her place, completely having a downward spiral of doubt and anxiety, going off about what ifs and how maybe you’d be better with someone else being a dad to them and Mika literally slaps him to shut him up. “You are going to be a dad to those kids, and you’re gonna be a good one, too, Eren. Nobody’s saying you won’t fuck up, but you’ll have help along the way.” 

He feels better after that (his cheek hurts like hell for two days tho), and the reassurance from Mikasa and you really does help, and he’s back on track to bouncing off the walls about having kids. 

Obsessed with the concept of baby clothes (“Babe, are they really gonna be this tiny??”), but he doesn’t understand the sizing of them. Is there really that big of a difference between four month olds and ten month olds?? He hasn’t grown that much in six months, why would they?? 

Don’t even get him started on baby shoes, he thinks those are completely ridiculous: “Their toes are gonna be the size of my pupils, why would we put shoes on them?? That’s dumb, we’ll just get those fuzzy socks to keep em warm when they’re cold, I don’t wanna squash their growing toes.” 

He cries when he holds them for the first time, because, they are, predictably, tiny. Tinier that he ever could have thought imaginable; he can hold is son and his daughter with one hand each and it’s an incredibly tender and heartwarming and humbling thing to him. 

He literally cried more than you throughout the whole delivery, too. He was a complete emotional wreck; happy and jittery one moment, anxious and nervous the next, crying no matter what, and yeah, he might have passed out once or twice, but don’t mention it. 

Gives the twins a “house tour” when you take them home from the hospital, narrating it every bit of the way. He holds them both to his chest, slowly parading around your house like, “And this is the kitchen, and this is the fridge where we keep your baby mush. It tastes bad, I tried it, but hopefully you’ll like it.” 

Your daughter looks like you, but also like Carla; and your son has damn near all of Eren’s features, and they both got his green eyes (lucky them). Eren is obsessed, and loves playing peek-a-boo with them. 

When his paternity leave is up, he figured he’d go back to work first and leave you at home with the kids to give you more time to rest and let your body have more time to adjust after giving birth. Half-way through his first day back, he calls out early under the pretenses of being sick because he misses you guys that much. 

He calls out sick for the remainder of the week too, and finally by Friday he sits down with you and is like, “I know we said I would go back to work first but I don’t think I can do it, babe. I wanna stay and hang out with them all day before they’re too big and have to go to school.”

And that, is essentially, how Eren comes to the conclusion that he wants to be a stay at home dad. It doesn’t surprise you, or anyone really, it was only a surprise to himself; but it was a surprise to him that nobody else was surprised. 

“What do you guys mean you ‘saw this coming?’” he questions you, Mikasa, and Armin sporadically, “I could have gone back to work if I wanted to!!” To which, you look around at his friends, before Armin finally speaks up, a slight roll to his eyes, “Eren, you can hardly leave them with me or Mikasa for two hours. How did you expect to make it through the work day.”

When they get a bit older, he’s the champ of playing games with them. Acts out the most dramatic “deaths” when he gets shot by a Nerf gun, becomes the most convincing doctor when playing fake hospital, and has learned a pretty damn impressive Mickey Mouse impression to entertain them. 

It’s your daughter that turns out to get most of Eren’s... determined personality. She might only be three years old, but she can argue with him as if she graduated from law school, and swears he never wins with her. How could he; it’s like arguing with himself, please they both stomp away and have to cool down after. 

They make up pretty quick tho, because Eren hates it when they’re mad in general, much less mad at him or you; and he sulks to you, borderline whining about how he doesn’t want her to hate him. You reassure him that she does not hate him, she’s just... feisty like he is. 

It’s her twin brother that consoles and calms her down, because he’s the more tame of the two. By the time Eren’s knocking on the door to their room to talk it out and apologize, she’s already knocked out, leaning up against her brother as they both take a nap. (It’s a sight that could bring him to tears, and he slowly closes the door and goes to cuddle up to you, while he waits for them to finish napping). 

He absolutely loves to lift them up, and even has they get bigger, he insists they’ll never be too big for him to hold them. Both he and the twins get a kick out of having them hang off his arms while he spins around in a circle like a little human sprinkler. 

Family picnics and/or beach days happen often, and more often than not, it ends up with Eren and the kids coercing (see: pulling) you to the water or to play with them.

By the end of the day, Eren’s laying on the blanket lazily eating a sandwich hich you’d packed earlier, with his son sat criss-cross on his stomach. He teases him by airplaining the sandwich near his mouth, only to take a bite of it himself after, because he adores the betrayed exclaimation of “Daddy! No fair!” Eren’s always sure to give him a bite for real after, and a little kiss on the head to make up for it. 

Your daughter sits in your lap, half-asleep, even tho moments before she was oh-so determined to play volleyball against her dad again (“And I’m gonna win, mommy, watch! Daddy’s tall, but I can win!”)

He lets them draw/color/paint on his back. He’ll just lay down on a blanket in the living room and let them go to town. Face painting, too, though that’s for when they’re a bit older; he learns the hard way that a two year old can have pretty rough hands. 

The complete and utter disappointment and betrayal in his eyes when he hears your son proclaim that he thinks Jean is “cool.” Eren has to take a lap, he can’t believe his own kin would say some shit like that. 

Your daughter loves Mikasa, thinks she’s the absolute best person in the world, and always asks if she can be the one to babysit. They both like Armin, too, but Armin’s gotta stay away from your son for a bit because for whatever reason, his blonde hair is very amusing to him, and the kid’s got a pretty strong grip. (“Stop bullying your Uncle Armin, it’s not his fault he’s blonde.”)

You often catch him doing push ups with either one or both of them on his back, and the kids fucking love it. They’re cheering him on, counting completely out of order about the amount of push-ups he’s done, and clapping every time he comes up again. It becomes his favorite workout. 

He swears they’re his best friends and his favorite people in the entire world. He does everything with them: getting the oil changed in his car, going to the store, picking up the mail. He just loves being around them and swears he’s gonna be the best dad for them. 

[ripperdaddy]

the viktor vector romance path + ending we deserve

Disclaimer: This is definitely something I came up with in my head. There will be a few instances that are solely made up so it can tie in with the “story.” This is purely fictional; something I wished happened if there was a possible Vik romance 🥰 This is based on my general knowledge of the game & Vik’s life. All gifs + images are from my own personal play through, but wouldn’t be possible without the help of the Appearance Menu Mod, found on Nexus Mods by the creators, MaximiliumM and CtrlAltDaz. And the shirtless Vik mod by the lovely samsnak ♡

It would start after completing the Paid In Full quest where you pay Vik back the eddies you owe him.

I feel like realistically, the general player would have to be at least halfway through the story to have collected enough eddies. I would say that a good point in the story where we can begin the romance is that you’ve already established a connection to Alt and have dealt with the VDB’s.

I think it would be a short side quest like River’s. Vik already plays a big part in the story overall on his own, so I don’t think it’s necessary to make his “side quest” too long. His romance would just be an addition to the ending.

And as much as I would love for him to be a bisexual option for both male/female V, if we’re sticking with the game’s standard with limiting partners to only one kind of partner, he would only be romance-able by a female V with a feminine voice.

V: Finally scrounged up enough eddies to pay you back in full.

Vik: Hold on to ‘em just in case - you need ‘em more than me.

V: I’m not taking them all the way to my grave, Vik. Here. And.. thanks again for doing so much work on me ‘thout ever seein’ an enny.

Vik: That’s what friends are for.

Then, there is an additional option for dialogue to trigger the romance path.

V: Friends? I think you’ve been in and out of my body more than anyone else I’ve hooked up with in Night City.

He laughs, with a coy smile. “Well, can’t argue with you there. Why don’t we take some of these eddies and grab a drink. You know, to celebrate. Catch up on old times. Haven’t seen you round here much lately, kid.”

You agree to meet at the El Coyote Cojo tomorrow evening.

You meet around 9 PM and you are welcomed by the sight of Pepe and Vik at the bar.

V: Nice choice of venue.

Vik: Thought you’d like it. Haven't been here since.. well, you know.

V: I miss him, Vik.

Vik: I know, V. Me too.

You immediately take a seat and tinker with a few dialogue options, where you can either have a sweet moment talking about Jackie or some surface questions to ask, like how he’s doing, what kind of drink he likes, etc. But it all winds down to Jackie anyway, where Vik confides in you about his past. Judging by how Vik was so affected by Jackie’s death, and V’s (if you chose the suicide ending), you can tell that he has lost a lot in his life, and keeps his circle very small.

You then achieve an even closer, more personal relationship with him. But, ultimately nothing happens other than the usual, wait 24 hours in game for a text/phone call from Vik to head into the next stage. At least now, you have established the foundation for a future romance.

Halfway through the 24 hour period, you get a text from Vik thanking you for the lovely evening. No reply needed, as he calls you once the 24 hour mark hits and invites you out for another date.

You meet at Tom’s Diner for coffee in the afternoon. It starts off with him apologizing for being emotional the previous night and asks if you’re open to hanging out again and going down to Pacifica to watch a fight with him.

Vik: Hey, V. I just wanted to apologize about last night. I didn’t mean to be such a downer.

V: It’s okay, Vik. We share the same grief.

Vik: I was going to head down to Pacifica and catch a real good match later on today. I was wondering if you’d like to come along, think it’d be great for the both of us, you know, as a distraction.

pssst even Johnny’s rooting for y’all ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Johnny: Hmm, interesting.

V: What?

Johnny: Never thought you'd be going out with this guy.

V: Vik's amazing. And I mean--we basically owe it to him since he practically saved our life.

Johnny: Don't tell me you're going out with him out of pity.

V: I'm not.

Johnny: I know, I can feel you get all mushy-gushy. It's almost repulsive. Just wanted to hear you admit it.

V: Eat a dick, Johnny.

You arrive before the GIM and blend into the crowd.

V: Nothin’ like watching guys beat the shit out of each other to get your blood pumpin’, huh?

Vik: This is a real good matchup, V. This kid’s fresh, young talent.

V: You miss it, don’t you?

Before the fight begins, Vik shares a story about his time in the ring and coming in second in the Watson Boxing Grand Prix.

There’s some extra fun options in the dialogue, you can bet some eddies on who’s gonna win, or side with him. The fight ends, and you two head outside.

Since you’re already out in Pacifica, you head over to the boardwalk (where you would ride the roller coaster with Johnny) and he starts telling you about the last days of his boxing career and how he transitioned from the sport to being a ripperdoc.

You both share a sweet moment with each other, reminiscing about old times and talking about V’s future with the relic. This is where I would see Vik confessing how he feels about you, mentioning how grateful he is for Jackie introducing you to him.

The evening ends and Vik asks you to give him some time to try and dig up some footage from his storage and have you come over to watch. You can kiss him then wait another 24 in game hours before the last quest. Halfway through, he texts you and asks you what you’d like for dinner. You can opt for pizza or chinese.

I haven’t seen or read anything about how or where Vik lives. If I overlooked something, please let me know! But for the sake of the story, let’s say he does actually have his own place that’s now introduced in the game. Personally, I think he has a typical bachelor pad, like a really nice apartment. Not too far from his clinic either. He looks like he would just walk to work. Vik definitely has a lot of money, but he’s so humble I doubt he would choose to live lavishly. As mentioned in the beginning, he typically just “sleeps nights” ever since he was over “being a legend” so I’m guessing his lifestyle is very routine. He goes to work, goes home, sleep. Seems unlikely he has a place like the Peralez’s. It would probably be just the same as V’s but decorated to his taste.

The evening comes and you are over at his place. He’s dressed in just a white undershirt, no exo-glove. You get to know more about his family, how he grew up — scanning things around his place. Then he plays some footage of one of his fights for you, while you two have a conversation and share a beer. As you two sit on the couch, you get close, then have an opportunity to kiss him.

then this is where da sex happen hihihi (ノ・ω・)ノ

The next morning you wake up and you two have a heartfelt conversation about where this is going. He already knows your situation, so I would assume he is very accepting and supportive. And with Vik, he seems like the kind of guy who would still want to be in your life and keep the friendship the same way despite no longer being together romantically. So it’s official. He’s your man 🥵 !!11!1!

Like how River gives you the “fuck the police” tank top after sleeping with him, I think Vik would give you his Night City Devils t-shirt that provides you with a significant amount of armor or some kind of cyberware upgrade that makes you invulnerable for a brief moment while using your hands to fight enemies.

Note: I was thinking of Vik giving V his boxing glove necklace, but because it's part of his character's appearance in the game, I don't think we would be able to essentially "take it" from him - unless he gives you a replica as a keepsake. Which I think would also work.

If you successfully romance, during the rooftop scene near the end of Nocturne OP55N1 (despite Vik’s disposition of him telling you to take matters in your own hands and being a little closed off), you still have an option to reach out to him when Johnny advises you to call a loved one.

V: Hey, Vik. I just wanted to say, thanks for hanging with me, until the end.

Vik: Quit talking like it is, V. Just do what you need to do.

V: I mean, think of it. It’s like I’m heading into the last round of this whole thing.

Vik: Well, in that case.. remember—keep your hands up, guarded at all times. It ain’t over just yet.

V: Heh.. I can feel it, just a few more punches.

Vik: Now look at you - the new welterweight champ of Night City.

V: Thanks, coach.

Vik: Last piece of advice from the coach's corner. Just.. be careful, kid. Remember, I’m with you.

Okayyyy, soooo I’m not the biggest fan of how CDPR gave us two of the same endings (Path of Glory). The only difference is that Rogue’s life is spared. I would have assumed that not only would we get to keep Rogue around, things should have played a bit more differently for V if we took the route of going solo against the corpos. So let’s tweak it.

This specific ending; it should be after getting through Don’t Fear The Reaper where you single-handedly manage to rip through Arasaka by yourself. Johnny goes back to Alt & Rogue is still alive. Yes nobody dies!!!

(honestly this ending can apply to any love interest you choose)

Vik and V are now living together in a lavish penthouse, entertaining an upcoming merc to do their work for them (which is now the current POV of the player.) You were recruited by Rogue at the Afterlife, who told you to visit this couple for a real, preem job.

They give you some vague details about the gig and go on for a brief moment about what you will be doing and what you should expect. Vik emphasizes to you that it’s important you get what they need because it’s for his wife, V, as her life depends on it.

As Never Gonna Fade Away is playing in the background, they tell you to break into Arasaka HQ.

Then the game officially ends.

[reidyoulikeabook]

M is for Maybe One Day

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Discussion of marriage and children.

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: Spencer and reader have a conversation about their future.

A/N: This is the angst free version of part M! If you’re looking for the version that contains angst, that’s here. This is the main scene from the story and is designed so that people who don’t feel comfortable with the potentially upsetting content from the angst-version are still able to enjoy this version. Let me know what you think! :)

Part of The A-Z of Spencer Reid but works as a stand-alone.

You’re awake before Spencer is. You don’t want to risk waking him up by disentangling yourself, so you stay right where you are, unsure of what time it is. You’re infinitely happier curled up in his arms than you would be by being bestowed with that knowledge.

It can only be early, anyhow. There’s only a trickle of light pooling under the curtains. The big living room light got left on last night, you knew Spencer needed it to keep the darkness at bay. It pokes into the room through the gap in the not-quite-closed door, allowing you to get a relatively good look at him.

His hair is a wreck. Even in sleep, you can see the bags firmly indented under his eyes. His mouth is open. No snores come out, only tiny breaths escape the lips formed into an ‘o’ shape.

He looks peaceful.

Unencumbered by any of the worries from yesterday. You close your eyes, deciding that getting a few more hours sleep can’t hurt.

It’s then that he moves. He wiggles his fingers, more than likely trying to wake up the arm that’s gone dead with you lying on it. You open your eyes, and his face floods with guilt. The exact face he makes when you find him hobbling around the apartment without his crutches.

“Sorry,” He squeaks, “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“I was awake already,” You reassure him, adjusting your position so that he can move his arm, “Did you sleep well?”

He visibly relaxes, his voice raspy with sleep, “I slept okay. Better because you were here.”

You hum. Opening your arms, you nod for him to move. He does, coming to settle himself with his head resting on your chest. There’s a peaceful lull. The residents of Virginia aren’t awake yet, so you’re enveloped in the kind of quiet that only comes with the early hours of the morning. No cars racing past or mothers upstairs on a mission to suck every piece of dust out of their apartment, and potentially yours too.

You feel the low rumble of his throat before you hear it, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You’re not quite sure how long you lie like that. In this liminal space between asleep and wakefulness, night and morning. Your brain starts to wander, trying to settle on anything to use as a rope to escape the reality of last night that bites at your ankles.

For some reason, it settles on Derek. The image of him at his desk.

Planning to raise the next generation of Einsteins?

“I was thinking,” You murmur, playing with a piece of his hair, “I was talking to Derek last week. He was talking about Garcia, and how they’ve spoken about having kids. I mean, I know they’ve been together a lot longer but, it got me thinking.”

He pulls back. For a moment, you’re afraid you’ve gone too far. Then he swallows, his lips curling upwards into a small smile.

“Would you want to-” He cuts himself off, clearing his throat, “Would that be something you could see yourself wanting someday? To marry me?”

“I’d love to marry you,” You tell him, lifting your fingers to his face to trace over the familiar lines of his cheekbones, the points of his face a dot-to-dot you could connect in your sleep.

He smiles, “Would you be Mrs Reid?”

“Of course I’d be Mrs Reid. I’d hate to disappoint the aquarium.”

“Well in that case-” He pretends to move, as if to shift towards the bedside table.

“You don’t have a ring in there.”

“Not yet.”

“It’d be a bad place to keep it.”

“Or it might work as a double bluff.”

“I know your bluffs. Double or triple or quadruple.”

He scrunches his nose, “I don’t think I’ve ever quadruple bluffed.”

“You might one day.”

“I suppose if you’re going to be Mrs Reid you’ll get the chance to find out.”

"I’d like to be Mrs Reid,” You tell him, sincere once more, “I can’t imagine myself ever being with anybody else.”

“I can’t imagine what my life would look like without you in it now,” He says, his voice painfully earnest, cracking a bit at the end.

“Neither can I.”

There’s a shift in atmosphere. Small but significant, one that has you staring at him. Trying to piece together how this ended up being your life. How you went from co-workers at desks next to one another exchanging pleasantries, a man you called Dr Reid for the first week of knowing him until he cracked and insisted you called him Spencer. How you transformed from that to this, caterpillars entering a caramel chrysillis and making it out the other side, soaring through near death experiences and aquarium trips and job offers at Caltech.

There’s been a lot, really.

He interrupts your thoughts, so softly it barely jolts you, “I-I’ve known it for a while now. I’m not sure when I realised but I think that, that we just make it work.”

“We do,” You agree, “That’s what I said to Derek. I think we just understand each other.”

“I never really felt like anybody ever understood me,” He mumbles, his voice dropping as it becomes more sincere, shifting his face more into the pillow, “My whole life I um, I sort of felt out of place. I didn’t always understand peoples jokes or know how to talk to them. I didn’t think I’d ever find somewhere I felt like I belonged.”

His voice wavers. You kiss the top of his forehead, not interrupting, just reassuring.

He continues, “Joining the BAU changed things. Meeting Morgan and Garcia especially. They made me feel like, for the first time in my life, I had friends. Who weren’t annoyed by everything that I said.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” You tell him, your hand coming to rest at the nape of his neck to play with the stray hairs there, “You never do and I understand why. But you’re more than smart. I love your brain, and your memory, and I admire all of that. But you’re also thoughtful,” You punctuate each assertion with a kiss to his knuckles, “And kind. And funny. And you make me feel so loved.”

He sniffles a bit, lifting his head. You can see the tears sparkling in his eyes, and you bring your interlocked hand to his chin, your thumb resting there. He swallows, and you pause for a moment before speaking again.

“And if I was ever going to have a family, there’s nobody I’d rather do it with than you.”

“Really?” He’s winded by the assertion, his breath catching in his throat, “You’d want a family with me?”

“Of course I do. love you. You’d make the most amazing dad in the world Spence.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I know so. Look at how you are with Henry and Jack. You’re the best Uncle ever,” You murmur, “Raising kids with you is the best decision I could make.”

He‘s quiet. Soaking it in. He holds you tighter against his body, essentially putting you back into your place against his neck. The comforting scent of him, and the feeling of his big hands rubbing steady circles on your back, is grounding in the extreme.

Though you’re soothed, you can tell when he’s thinking. His jaw tightens, just a little bit. As if he’s chewing the words. Trying to decide whether to swallow them or let them slip out.

“I think I’d um, I’d retire.”

Slip out.

“You’d what?” You try to keep the surprise out of your voice but it filters through.

“I’d probably um, I’d probably look into teaching. I don’t think I could ever leave our children. Not,” He sniffles, and you know without looking that there’s a tear making its way down his cheek, “Not when there’s a chance I might not come home. I couldn’t do that to them.”

“Okay,” You say, “I’d support you whatever you wanted to do. I was only surprised because I know how much you love the job.”

“You love yours too. I’d never expect you to give it up so we could have children. Not unless you wanted to.”

Of course that’s part of it.

“I know,” You reply, “I know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about the practicality of it. But I know what you mean.”

He swallows, “It’s more than that. I just um. I’d want to be around. All the time.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you can tell there’s more he’s not saying. You adorn his Adam’s apple with a soft kiss, and he lets out a puffy exhale.

“I um, I never thought that this is something I’d get to want. Kids and a wife and a family. Now that it is, now that I get the chance,” He trails off, swallowing, “Now that I have that chance I would never do anything to risk losing it. Or missing a single moment of it. I want to give them a happy childhood. I want to teach them to play chess and watch cartoons on a Sunday and just give them...give them a lifetime of good memories. Not a lifetime of them staring at the door wondering if I’m going to make it home.”

He wants to give them what he never had.

Shifting, you adjust, looking him in the eyes. A tear is making its way down his cheekbone, one you thumb away. Cradling his face in your hands, you can’t help but smile. They aren’t sad tears like you’d expected, his eyes gleam with pure adoration. He’s not sad about the past. He’s happy about the future.

The realisation brings a tear to your eyes, and you can barely get the words out past the lump in your throat, “Maybe one day we’ll be waking up on Saturdays to take our kids to the park.”

The love in his eyes is mirrored and magnified in your own. You can’t be certain whether it’s that or your words that coax another tear out of his eye, but it’s barely passed the bridge of his nose before he’s giving you the biggest wateriest smile, “I’m looking forward to that day.”

So am I.

-

Next part: N is for New Place (i promise it’s onwards and upwards from here!!)

[sityoursiredassdown]

Nobody asked for this rant and I rarely comment on the acotar fandom but it still amazes me that people don’t seem to get they very real running theme of people aren’t perfect that Sarah has put into just about every book she writes. It was a problem I saw in the ToG fandom as well but I’m paying attention to Acotar because a lot of familiar (and new) drama has stirred up with Acosf being out. 

Probably gonna ramble so if you’re as tired as I am hit the “read more.” Also, spoilers, obviously. 

Morality in Characters

Characters being named problematic or irredeemable for something or another is a long running issue in multiple fandoms across a variety of media. That’s its whole separate issue, but one thing that drew me to SJM’s books in the first place was how willing she is to let characters make mistakes. To let themselves believe they are in the right even if we, the readers, know they’re not. 

She lets them justify their anger, lust, panic, doubt, longing, the scope of human emotions. She lets them be right but she also lets them, most often, be incredibly wrong about an emotional situation they are in. She lets them hit rock fucking bottom. But most of all she lets them change their mind, lets them gain a new perspective or move on from something that had felt so important fifty chapters before. And it is an incredibly realistic journey of being human (I know they’re all fae but you get what I mean.)

Any book written by Sarah is going to feature characters that have flaws, some changeable some that are ingrained in them--no person alive is created without personality traits that can never quite shake, can only try to work on, or suffer the consequences from their mistakes. 

Rhysand and Nesta are big examples in the Acotar series. 

Rhysand can be manipulative and scheming, withholding information and thinking he knows what’s best because he’s the smartest person in the room. 

Nesta can be as cold as ice, petty, and downright cruel with her words alone, lashing out and biting like a rabig dog for trying to get close.  

People in different sides of the fandom will lash out at either for these respective traits, citing the mistakes and problematic behavior each character has exhibited in the various books as reason. And I, by no means, am saying that we need to condone the different things various characters have done. The mistake is believing that’s ALL they are. 

Rhysand is also incredibly loyal, generous, thoughtful, and caring to not only his family but to essentially anyone he comes across when not in High Lord Mode.

Nesta is also fiercely protective, brave, insightful, and capable of being incredibly selfless when she cares, when something truly matters. 

The good and bad traits exist in both characters, as they exist in all characters because that’s how people work. Their bad traits lead to mistakes that we can criticize for what they are without condemning the character on a whole, because that is not all they are. And whether there is fallout/forgiveness with other characters makes sense because these are all people intricately connected with their own thoughts and feelings and reactions to situations. 

Which brings me to: 

Nesta vs. Feyre

This, by far, continues to be one of the most aggravating parts of the fandom. Nesta is a naturally divisive character, one I’ve always loved. Because, as stated above, I can find issue with how she treats those around her but also understand that it comes from a place of trauma. The whole point of Acosf is for her to go on that journey and explore why she is the way she is and the journey she takes, it was never going to be solved in the trilogy or the novella. 

While I don’t think Feyre is perfect (that’s the point, none of them are) it does rankle me that parts of the fandom read the trilogy, went on that journey with her, and decided she had become some entitled snob that didn’t deserve to be in the books anymore because she got fed up with how Nesta was acting. The inner circle also was treated similarly. 

In Acosf, there are certainly scenes where Nesta isn’t trusted or respected by members of the inner circle, and at that point we can say they’re in the wrong because we were on Nesta’s journey with her. But trust, understanding, often takes time to rebuild/gain when its been broken and Nesta had certainly been burning bridges back in Frost and Starlight.  

Nesta and Feyre have both suffered trauma, and the thing about trauma is everyone handles it differently. A reason it took Nesta much longer to get help and go on that journey to self love is because she continuously fought against and pushed away the people that reached out to her. Feyre, while wary of Rhysand and the inner circle as they took her in, was more willing to open up. 

Nesta being criticized by other characters for her self-destructive behavior doesn’t mean they don’t care about her or are terrible people. She was never going to go on that journey of self-love and personal growth we all wanted her to have, without a push. The point in the storytelling is to fray those dynamics so they can be rebuilt stronger and from a healthier foundation because Nesta finally loves herself. 

Despite how different they are and the way they’ve clashed, Feyre and Nesta love each other. Because by the end of Acosf, they’ve truly seen and accepted each other as complex people, good and bad. Yet we as fandoms so often seem to think if there’s bad, there can be no good. 

Change

Circling back around to the overall morality of the characters, their mistakes and flaws, one thing SJM has always shown in her books is change. That people and what they want are constantly changing and evolving. 

Characters can be in love, look like they’re meant to be....until they’re not. 

A Character can have a goal, a reasoning, a desire so strong that it feels like they couldn’t want anything else...until they realize it’s not what they needed at all. 

SJM has always let this build across her stories, always goes through her characters emotions and reasonings for this change rather than telling us to accept it. 

The one time I think she erred in this was Morrigan’s sexuality and the sub sequential dismantling of the Morrigan/Azriel ship that had felt so certain in Acomaf. I will clarify. I have no issue with Mor being queer and only mean that the reveal was used as a plot device/twist. 

And of course, that shifted into quite a bit of debate about Lucien/Elain/Azriel, which has rebirthed with Acosf and the special Azriel chapter (I will say I have not read the chapter, didn’t get that copy, but lord I’ve seen the metas.)

Change is a big theme in SJM’s books, especially with ships. She is not afraid to jump around more than once, but most often, the endgame love story feels right. Of course not everyone may agree with this, but that’s always where I ended up after finishing her various books. And of course, everyone is free to ship what isn’t endgame to their heart’s content. 

My final point of this long winded rant is, these characters across these books are messy, complex individuals. Sometimes they have unhealthy behavior, say or do terrible things, and have thoughts that are going to lead to self-destruction. But that’s what makes them vibrant and real, because they can never be perfect. We can love these characters without it meaning we condone whatever it is they do. 

And if you’re this far into a SJM series and haven’t realized that these journeys and these people are never going to be simple and clean-cut for some idealized standard you have, then you may have picked up the wrong book.    

P.S. If you have read all this just so you can try to tell me whatever stan camp you’re in is the only correct one; you’re getting blocked. 

[tenacityreturns]

aokaga drabble: post-nba

plot: kagami cuts off all his friends after forced retirement from the nba, and goes to live in japan again so that he can rebuild himself from the ground up. aomine’s girlfriend, sabs (whom we love), breaks up with him and aomine follows kagami to try and reconnect after a quiet few months. he’s worried as hell, he loves kagami, who he knows without hearing from him that he is miserable. it’s angst. word count: 5860 notes: sfw, future verse, aomine’s pov. it’s specific to my future verse hcs but hopefully it makes sense even if u dont know them lol. nijimura and kagami are ( thank you so much for reminding me about this. present tense. they ARE ) besties, i think that comes up. 

god, it's just too weird coming back here. everything is the same. same cream wallpaper, same dirty mirror in the lift. same buttons, circled with red once pressed. same shitty elevator music. it hums melodically, creating the pretence of relaxation, but daiki is anything but. he stares at himself in the mirror. not much taller than the last time he'd been inside, on his way to see an exuberant redhead in that same, ridiculous penthouse apartment he'd had by himself. would it seem small now that he'd seen the world? now that he had money of his own, lived in a big apartment himself? there are lines in his brow as he inspects it. he doesn't try to fix it. allows himself these nerves because they remind him that he cares. if he didn't, he wouldn't have come back to stay with his parents. wouldn't have followed taiga across the world despite the months of radio silence. missed calls ( ignored calls ). unanswered texts. daiki had tried everything. called taiga’s dad, asked if he'd heard anything recently from him. he never had. never gave daiki anything, anyway. all 'oh, I'm sure he's fine, he's probably just sulking about his injuries.' yeah, that's what daiki is worried about. asao had always got on his nerves. how is he so blind? why can't he see that taiga's devastated to be retiring? he still had as much fight in him as he'd had when they were teenagers. so much fight, and grit, and impossible potential.

the elevator dings. he doesn't move for a moment. ghosts surround him. that time taiga dragged him way too roughly into his apartment, only to kiss him like he's made of glass. the times they'd held hands in the full elevator and no one had minded. the time someone had, and taiga nearly beat him up for it. like, really nearly. all the occasions taiga found to cook meals for him. all the excuses. how the hell could taiga stand to come back here and relive all those memories?

the doors shut. daiki grunts and pushes the button to open them again. he has to buck up. he has to gather himself, all the courage in the world, and tell taiga everything. he was waiting inside, anyway. he'd buzzed him up. yeah, alright. he'd said at the door. yeah, alright. he sounds different now. colder. the knot in his stomach is eating him alive. tearing organs apart. his knees are weak, barely carrying him into the hallway.

how will he phrase it? Daiki makes his way to taiga's door. it's the same colour. same paint, it's peeling a little. he feels sick. so sick. it's fight or flight, isn't it? the nerves. well, he'd already flown away. already allowed taiga to think he didn't care. maybe he hadn't. maybe love had drifted between them, fluttering around like a butterfly in spring. sabina had been a flower daiki visited, she was everything he thought he'd wanted in a partner. funny, clever, interested in him. not like in love him, which she had been, but she'd asked how his day was. sabs was great, but she wasn't taiga. they fought a lot, but not in the same way he'd fought with taiga. and taiga had dated people too, like that hot business guy. older, smart, in love. daiki recognised the way he'd looked at taiga during that terrible doubt date they'd gone on. softly, in awe, like there had been no one else in the room. and taiga had been looking at daiki. saying something with a smirk, trying to get a rise out of him. daiki could have kissed him then.

but he's broken up with sabs when taiga retired. all daiki had done was call him, text him, trying to find out if he was okay. of course he wasn't, but daiki wanted to be there for him. sabs grew tired of it. he doesn't blame her for it. he doesn't blame himself for being in love with taiga, either. it's the natural way of things. and it has been the natural way of things to go back to Japan as soon as he could get a break away from work. he stayed with his parents, kept his head down. reconnected with other old friends from high school, tried to pretend it was just a social call. Tried to pretend he hadn't come all the over here on the off chance taiga might be around to see him, wherever he'd been. what a bittersweet moment when taiga first texted back a few months ago. all casualness, he’d said don’t worry about me, i’m fine. talk soon x and that had been it. he’d replied in english, daiki had texted in english. daiki called him about a week ago and taiga had answered. hearing his voice had been jarring. he’d been waiting so long, so patiently. always hoping taiga would call him for a change.

“i’m in tokyo visiting family,” daiki had said hastily, shocked that he’d actually get a reply this time. he waited. nothing. fine. he kept talking. “i get it if you don’t wanna talk to me, or whatever, but---

“no, i wanna see you. come over. i’m back in my old apartment, you remember where that is? come by next saturday.” and they agreed on a time like it was the most normal thing in the world.

daiki sees his hand raise to knock on the door, and he wonders how many times in his life he’d done this. his knuckles had met the door hundreds of times before, when they’d been younger. less experienced. happier. god, daiki’s scared. it’s too weird coming back here.

the door opens. it’s taiga. he looks tired. he’s put on weight, his bare arms are still tree trunks but they’re not showing muscle definition anymore. he makes grey sweats and a black t-shirt look classic for a reason. daiki stares at him, taking it all in, suddenly tongue-tied. he doesn’t have the right words, they don’t exist. there’s nothing to say. he shouldn’t have come.

“makes you feel old, don’t it?” taiga says, rubbing his neck.

"what?”

“being back here. i feel like i should ask you if you wanna play one-on-one then go to maji’s.” the joke hurts. red eyes hold such sadness in them. it looks like it hurts to look at daiki, too. he shouldn’t have come.

“taiga---”

“i can’t, i dunno if you heard. i can’t play again. i’m still recovering. i had to choose between being able to walk when i’m sixty, or playing basketball another year. i was so close to picking basketball.”

daiki trudges inside. he fights the instinct to sweep taiga into an all-encompassing hug. it’s awful being in this room again. the furniture is different, thank god, but the essentials are in the same place. the kitchen is the same. there’s the spot daiki would always perch when taiga was cooking something for him. the sofa is in a different position. how clearly he can see the old layout now that he stands amongst its replacements. daiki doesn’t know what to say to taiga’s crushing statement. could he speak if he wanted to? there’s a lump in his throat. he takes his shoes off. those are taiga’s jordans. it’s good he still wears basketball shoes. it’s wrong when he doesn’t. they’re like an extension of him, like the colour of his hair. scarlet in the sunlight.

“isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” taiga’s voice is so dark, he hasn’t shut the door yet. when daiki looks over, the hand on the door is tense, as if trying to make a fist through the wood. it takes daiki by surprise to see this rage. “isn’t that what anyone wants to know, whether i care if i played again?”

“i---” he blinks. “i don’t care about basketball.”

wrong answer. the door slams. daiki flinches. taiga stalks into the kitchen.

“i mean, of course i care, it’s just-- you scared the shit outta me. i figured you didn’t wanna see me of all people, then i heard you cut everyone off, all your old teammates. gave everyone the cold shoulder. we just wanna help you, man, you’re not alone in this.”

“i’m over it.”

“i wouldn’t be, if i was you.”

“you have no idea how i feel, daiki,” taiga pulls two beers from the fridge. daiki had half expected banana milk. the thought makes him feel worse.

“nobody does, you won’t talk to anyone.” it’s a leap, maybe he had been, but had avoided daiki’s questions when he’d asked them. did nijimura know how he felt? did satsuki, and they just hadn’t told him?

“i don’t want to,” he takes the drinks to the couch, and daiki follows. daiki sits in a chair where his beanbag had once been. taiga continues, “i don’t wanna even think about basketball. that’s why i never messaged you back. i knew it would all come out once i saw you.”

daiki doesn’t open his beer. he stares at it guiltily, but he can’t bear opening it. can’t bear disturbing the quiet falling between them.

“i would’ve left you alone if you hurt yourself,” taiga goes on, in too smooth of a tone to have been anything but the truth. “i would’ve known you wouldn’t want to see me because it’d remind you of the old times.”

silence. he really shouldn’t have come.

“i’ve always had basketball,” taiga says quietly, sipping on his beer. “all my friends were into it too. back when i had this place first, i figured everyone was only interested because i was good. especially you guys.” he clicks his tongue. “you, generation of miracles. i didn’t blame you, either. i got it. tetsu, ryouta, tatsuya. i’d think about whether you’d lose interest if i got hurt and couldn’t play anymore. i didn’t wanna face it.”

“is that--- is that what you think about me now?”

no reply. he drinks more beer. daiki shifts to the edge of his seat.

“taiga. answer me.”

“i considered it. at first, definitely. then you kept calling, i guessed it was your conscience or something. don’t feel bad about it, or whatever--”

“don’t feel bad? why would you think that? i--” he has to take a breath. it’s taiga’s mistake. it’s something in his past that caused him to think that the limits of his worth are tied with his ability to play ball. that’s awful. but it’s not something to argue over. it won’t help. “look, you’re wrong. alright? don’t ever think that about me again.”

taiga shrugs. “you wanted to know how i felt.”

it’s a blow. it hurts. no doubt about it. when daiki had said i love you, had taiga always heard i love your basketball? that’s ridiculous. daiki had loved taiga’s way of playing, but that wasn’t just it?! there are corners of taiga’s mind that daiki doesn’t like, doesn’t get along with. but despite that, he loves that, too. loves taiga. loves, loves, loves him. he always has, he always will.

“you once said there’s nothing a winner can say to a loser. ain’t that how it is here? what could you say to me i haven’t heard from everyone else who can still play basketball?”

“if you couldn’t walk now, do you really think i wouldn’t wanna be there to help you with your wheelchair?” it slipped out, almost venomously. defensively. taiga blinks, quiet as the dead. daiki sighs, setting the drink down unopened. “you’re one of my best friends, taiga. you’re more than that. i think i made myself pretty clear when i called you and texted you. sorry if that was the wrong thing to do... but... if you stopped playing basketball after high school, i’d still have wanted you around, you know. even if you were some boring ass banker in another country, i still would’ve kept in touch.”

daiki doesn’t look at taiga now. he can’t. it’s too much honesty. there’s too much weight to his words. ( if he had looked over, he’d see the shaking hand raising beer to lips, hiding that they too quiver under the threat of tears. )

“sorry if i’m just saying stuff you’ve heard before. i’ll leave if i’m making it worse. i didn’t mean to.”

continued silence. what does he say next? what can he say? he doesn't want to leave. he should have come. daiki sighs, sinking back into his seat with his eyes anywhere but on taiga. this chair is hard. it's a sand-coloured linen armchair with deep mahogany accents. the kind of chair that really isn't meant to be sat in. sabs had one like this. it was a glorified bowl. totally uncomfortable, and even he was never able to sleep in it. this chair is similar. its voice is loud and harsh: i am an adult purchase. daiki misses the beanbag. the most comfortable thing he'd ever slept on. second most. he finally looks at taiga. the couch is different. it's also sand in colour, and cuboid, but the arm-rests are low and with the right cushion, their rounded corners would make for a good napping area.

the old sofa hadn't been comfortable. he'd convinced himself that it was, until taiga became the perfect cushion between sofa and daiki. it's a stupid thought, but is a toned body really that comfortable of a cushion? the soft lines of taiga's broad shoulders look just as enticing. but... the beanbag... daiki's bought beanbags for himself since then but they've never been the same. even the same brand (model discontinued) hadn't been the same. it wasn't just that it was oblong and firm enough that he doesn't touch the floor, while still retaining body-moulding softness. it was partly that. daiki had realised it the first time he settled into his new and immediately rejected beanbag years ago, when he and taiga had broken up for the second major time. it was that he'd been on taiga's floor, exhausted after an almost challenging one-on-one, waiting for his rival to make him his dinner. even before they'd started dating, daiki had felt a special sort of peace here. there's comfort in finding someone who you can be your authentic self with. daiki's basketball ability didn't scare taiga off.

"daiki?"

daiki had been staring at the window when taiga spoke. he immediately looked over, momentarily forgetting everything that was said minutes before. forgetting why he's here, what brought him, what chair he's sitting in. he's in the beanbag again. taiga's about to ask him to solve a history question, and daiki's half a second away from making up a completely fictitious answer so he doesn't have to bashfully admit that he doesn't know.

“can i ask you something?”

“shoot,”

“were you just thinking about your old beanbag?”

ah. busted. he blinks, dazed. taiga’s expression starts to change. his eyes search daiki’s from across the room and gradually, a smile forms. the sun comes out. literally. the shadow-stealing grey sky gave the city a brief interlude of hope in a few, impossibly long seconds of proper sunlight. the weather, daiki noticed, linked inextricably with a personal epiphany. it doesn’t matter whether he’s an easy read. at any given moment, daiki is thinking about his next meal or his next sleep. but that, in the depths of their conversation, taiga had pulled himself out of it enough to come to the correct conclusion on what daiki was thinking about. it wasn’t basketball, it wasn’t their history ( not entirely, at least ), and it wasn’t taiga’s injuries ( though maybe it should have been? ). it was his old beanbag. not taiga’s. not nijimura’s. his. and he’s smiling again, for the first time today. a wall has come down.

the future starts to fit into place. is that dramatic? it’s fate. it’s fate. does taiga see it too? does he knows that daiki could walk to the ends of the earth for him? daiki smiles too, now. he sinks deeper into his awful seat, shoulders almost meeting his ears.

“i hate this chair, taiga.”

“me too, but i hated the beanbag more.”

“you didn’t,” a critical insult! “why’d you keep it if you hated it so much?”

taiga sighs now, shifting in his seat so that his arm rested on the back of the couch, head against his hand. he stares with an unimpressed downwards turn to his mouth, and a double chin beneath his jaw. because you loved it, his eyes replied in words his mouth couldn’t betray, and i loved you. past tense, daiki can’t flatter himself into thinking that taiga is in any kind of place to be thinking about relationships. but they’d been in love before. daiki had been taiga’s first ( almost ) everything. it’s over in a split second, but he remembers thinking they’d be together forever.

“do you really think i could’ve been a banker?”

the question, offered casually under the guise of an innocent topic change, has weight to it. daiki knows this, but it doesn’t matter. his answer comes from the heart. their eyes meet.

“y’know,” daiki straightens up a little, “yeah, i do. i still think you could be a banker, dude. you’re one of the few people i’ve met who can really do anything you set your mind to.”

“i’m too stupid to be a banker.”

insecure words don’t suit taiga’s voice. they sound wrong. daiki doesn’t look away. “your tenacity outweighs your stupidity any day.”

taiga rolls his eyes and sips his beer. his smile fades. what’s he thinking about? daiki feels guilty realising he can’t read taiga as well as the other way around, but the last time they’d been in this room, it would have been a fair guess to suggest basketball was on his mind. it had almost always been on his mind. and now that his eyes no longer sparkle, basketball or lack thereof would also be a decent guess, but daiki didn’t think it was just that. does taiga think of the past? does he regret not paying attention in school and not giving himself any kind of backup career? daiki does. their parents do.

god, why can’t he think of anything to say? why is he so fucking silent all of a sudden? daiki’s usually quick as a whip, can spark a laugh or a fight at his whim. he usually knows just what to say when taiga’s not feeling great. or knows just what to do. all he can think of is a hug and what good has a hug ever done, really? he wants to wrap his arms around his old friend’s shoulders and tell him it’s all going to be alright. would taiga push him away? would he get mad?

“so,” taiga stands unexpectedly. is he about to tell him to get lost? “how are you doing?”

it takes him aback. uh, he’s been shit. he’s been worrying to death over taiga’s lack of communication, and fearing the worst with every phone call ignored. daiki exhales, watching taiga walk over to the sliding doors to the tiny balcony. it’s early evening and the city is starting to twinkle. does taiga admire its familiar beauty, or does he stare out with an empty gaze? for the love of all things good, daiki, for fuck’s sake! just say something!

“fine,” excellent.

“good. how’s sabs?”

“sabs?”

“yeah. i heard things were getting serious with you two.” his voice is impossible to hear, but he’s not mocking him. taiga’s ignorance at the situation is baffling, but he isn’t being spiteful.

“uh. we-- we broke up, man, ages ago. like, a few months.”

“huh.”

silence returned. daiki hates this. he understands not googling each other, but hadn’t anyone told taiga about sabs and him? had taiga really not asked? he’d been avoiding every other basketball guy he knows, why would daiki be any different? was it possible that taiga doesn’t care anymore? no, cool it. no talking about relationships right now, it’s not the time. fuck knows what conversation this moment does call for, but it’s not that. leave it. chill. have some beer.

daiki follows his own advice and finally opens his beer. it’s gross. he’s more of a wine guy, while taiga has always liked his beers. unsurprisingly, the drink does little to distract him.

“how are your parents?”

so is this what it was going to be? small talk? daiki would prefer going back to aggressively telling taiga how fucking amazing he is, just to fight the voice that had said i’m too stupid to be a banker.

“dad’s retiring soon,” daiki replies in a sigh, “there’ll be a party. you should come.”

taiga chuckles dryly.

you don’t have to, jesus. daiki doesn’t say it, and fights the irritation as best as he can. he’s using the same patience that taiga had used with him in the past when the world had felt like it was collapsing. “mom asks about you all the time.”

a grunt this time; it’s kind of like the surprised huh from earlier, mixed with a noise of amused rejection.

“how’s your dad?”

“he doesn’t get it at all. i tried telling him imagine you lost both your hands and couldn’t work anymore, but it’s not the same. he doesn’t love his work.”

daiki’s moving before he can help it. he comes to stand beside taiga to watch the city. he can’t see beyond the reflection of taiga’s sorrowful face in the glass. he’d been right, earlier. those gorgeous eyes were empty. if he was looking at the view, his eyes were dead on the horizon.

taiga continues without interruption. “he only works as an escape from everything he fucked up in his life. me, for instance.”

“taiga,” daiki’s heart aches.

“i should’a listened when i was a kid. that’s it. i should’a paced myself.”

“would you have joined seirin’s team if you paced yourself?”

silence.

“your intensity is a part of you, taiga,” daiki says gently. taiga’s distant eyes hone in on the reflection, too, and now they’re looking at each other in the glass. daiki is first to look away like a coward. “i think if you had paced yourself, you’d have come to one of seirin’s games. you would’a found out about the generation of miracles and thought i wanna take those asshole down a notch.”

“you told me my light’s too dim when we first met, though.” taiga turns his head so that he’s facing the city again. “even if i joined the team, we still lost before we got to finally beat you.”

“it was tetsu who lifted you up to my level,” daiki’s reply is barely a whisper. he’s falling into his own memories and his eyes drop to the windowpane. it had always been him. they both dwelled on it, he didn’t have to be a mind-reader for that. he misses kuroko like hell.

“you ever wish you hated basketball?” taiga’s voice cracks. he takes a sip of beer and daiki copies him.

“yeah,” before he’d met taiga, he’d been plagued with the idea of never meeting anyone up to his standards. anyone better. kise came close, but daiki had lost to seirin. that felt like lifetimes ago now.

“this fucking sucks,” he’d finished his beer now. daiki glances over in time to see taiga blindly toss his beer bottle over his shoulder. he looks back to see where it landed. it hadn’t shattered, but flown safely onto the sofa where taiga had been sitting. taiga doesn’t move. he doesn’t react at all.

daiki feels it keenly too, can’t taiga see? he’s not alone. sure, daiki can’t fully understand how it feels to be forced into retirement due to injury, but he’s on his way there. his body is tired and it is always sore. one of these days, he’ll land funny and never properly recover. and then daiki will isolate from the world until he can figure himself out. it will be like carving the basketball out of himself. having played for his whole life, what will be left? he comes to stare at taiga so gradually that he hadn’t noticed when it happened. he sees a strong man with a huge heart and the rest of his life ahead of him. he is awesome at cooking, maybe he’ll do something with that? he has enough money that, if he’s sensible with it ( which he always has been ), he’s financially secure. hell, taiga’s always been financially secure.

he sees a man waging a war in his mind. he sees broken pieces desperately held together. daiki sees himself.

“i’ll leave if you want me to, tai. i don’t wanna make it worse.”

taiga shakes his head. he looked, for a second, like he’d say something. his mouth opened, but he changed his mind last minute and closes it again. daiki can’t stand to see him this way. if they never talk about basketball again for the rest of their lives, he’ll find something else to say. they can’t just stop talking because they can’t play against each other anymore. unless that’s really what taiga wants, which daiki doubts.

it’s a bold move, perhaps, but he bumps his knuckles gently against taiga’s hand hanging beside them. the redhead glances between them, but it doesn’t put daiki off. he carefully offers his hand to hold, forgoing breathing lest it spark an outburst. there’s no rage this time. their hands connect like they had a million times before. daiki already feels better for it, selfishly, as if how he feels is what’s important right now. fuck, he just loves taiga so much. he’ll be fine, he’s taiga. of course he will. he’s at a low point and it’s weird to see him so lost, it’s unnatural somehow, but he’ll get through it. daiki believes in him. he believes in him with his whole goddamn heart.

taiga meets his eyes just as he’s feeling like he could just say it outright. daiki sees tired, teary eyes. he squeezes his hand. “what are you thinking about?” taiga asks quietly.

“how amazing you are,” he replies. “you’ll get through this. i know you will.”

taiga scoffs, but it doesn't sound like an outright rejection. not totally, at least.

a silence settles between them as they each think of something to say. daiki wishes there was something he could do to fix it. fix all the hurt. wrap it up in a ball and throw it outside. it's more of a distraction than anything, but hadn't that metaphor sounded like basketball? it would be impossible to cut the sport from himself. he doesn't think he'd be able to do it. this must be hell for taiga. he glances over and meets teary eyes unexpectedly looking at him, too.

"come here," daiki pulls his hand away, only to slide in and wrap his arms around taiga's waist. he hadn't thought twice about it this time. it's the right thing to do.

"i'm fine," taiga sniffs.

"then it's for my benefit," he snaps. it works, and he feels familiar arms wrap around him in kind. they stand in gentle silence, there’s a wall clock ticking somewhere in the background. cars beneath them sound like crashing waves. a siren. daiki runs his hands along taiga’s back soothingly, and notes that the form is softer now where muscles had laid careful marks of definition. taiga had always been bulkier than him, but this added weight makes the guy seem immovable. and here he is, hiding his face in daiki’s shoulder in the world’s saddest hug. he has to stop himself from kissing him there and then. as if that would help anything. it used to. enough kisses peppered on taiga’s face had always been enough to lift his mood. it’s strange to love taiga with restraint, but he will, if that is what he needs.

"you were right, by the way," taiga mutters, "I haven't talked this through with anybody."

"yeah. i'm here for you, tai. but we don't gotta talk about it if you don't want to. hell, we could pretend i'm the one who works at the bank and never talk about basketball again."

"you, a banker? that's just unrealistic." it's a joke delivered totally pathetically, with a shaking voice.

"shut up," and it's a defence without any bite to it.

“sorry about sabs,” daiki feels the words mumbled into his shoulder, feels taiga’s lips say her name against his t-shirt. taiga sounds guilty. he must know.

“don’t worry about it.”

“i heard you say in that interview that you were gonna have kids. i thought you were gonna end up with her.”

“interview?” daiki frowns. taiga breaks out of the hug and opens the sliding door. he comes to lean against the balcony, and daiki is still standing where he had been, racking his brain for what the hell he was talking about? he remembers an invasive question from a dickhead reporter along those lines, but daiki hadn’t said that he was going to? have them with sabs? he had never even considered it. really never considered it. hell no. “uh,” he finally replies, realising that he hadn’t yet, “no.”

“would you, in the future? not with sabs. i just mean, in general.”

daiki slides the door further open and steps into the cool air. he rests against the railing with his forearms, looking down and out at the city. for all that it could mean, he looks over with a gentle expression at the only person that would change his mind about it. “would you?”

taiga remains fixed on the horizon. his shoulders shrug. “i never thought about shit like that before. i think so, maybe.”

daiki hums. he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t admit to being happy to hear that taiga is open to it, doesn’t admit that he’s always liked the idea of having kids. at least one, maybe two. being an only child is difficult, but then, the adoption process is difficult. hopefully two kids. he recalls a conversation they had had a long time ago, or maybe it had been a moment in passing that stuck out. taiga has changed his mind. back then, daiki distinctly remembers hearing that taiga didn’t think he’d make for a very good dad. he remembers, because he knows how much he disagreed. a guy like him with a heart like that? please. it’s a given.

“while you’re here, you should visit nijimura and his kids at teiko.”

daiki blinks. the speed at which the conversation was going is leaving him behind. he’d done that before, sure, but not as often as taiga. that makes sense though, right? taiga was always good at making time for shit like that. he shrugs his shoulders. “yeah, i guess. i hadn’t thought about it.”

“daiki?” taiga says quietly. when daiki looks over, their eyes meet. god, taiga’s eyes are so fucking sad. he can’t deal with it. daiki nods, taiga continues. “i’m gonna give you a word of advice. you should really think about what you’re gonna do when you can’t play anymore. i wish i had. there’s no point dwelling on the past, but if i can stop you from feeling like this, then it won’t all be for nothing.”

daiki categorically doesn’t like talking about stuff like this. his injuries will heal. they always do. and he will play again. he is not strong like taiga, he can’t just carve it out and build himself up again. taiga will be able to tell by the look on daiki’s face that he has taken the advice to heart, even if he can’t speak for the lump in his throat. when he can, after a moment, daiki replies.

“i get it if you wanna be alone right now,” his eyes drift back to the city, “and i’ll go stand on the side-lines ‘til you’re ready if that’s what you want, but if our roles were reversed like you mentioned earlier, i hope you would know to come find me.”

“of course i would,” taiga rests forwards on the balcony, mirroring daiki. their arms touch, neither move. “when you put it like that... i’m sorry i was so hard to find.”

daiki doesn’t tell him that he loves him now. not in words. he says it between the lines, in the diminishing space between his fingertips and taiga’s skin. any excuse to touch him, he makes. now, as his head comes to rest momentarily on taiga’s shoulder. can he stay there? taiga allows it. he does. on the arm, later, as a story is told, on the hand. taiga returns it in a drifting touch across daiki’s shoulders as he’s passing in the kitchen, or that one, affectionate moment where taiga had playfully scuffed his knuckles against daiki’s chin. god, it had driven him crazy. taiga is so beautiful. his hair is a little longer. the guy’s always wanted a mullet, maybe now he’s actually growing it out? his hands, his back, his thighs. they’d been friends with benefits a few years ago because they couldn’t handle being in the same room without physically reacting to it. then they’d started taking other people. and now, daiki feels that gut instinct to give taiga everything again. but he won’t. not tonight.

instead, he’ll confess his love in the respectful silences, in reassuring smiles, the changes of conversation, the nah, i’ve got nowhere to be when 11 o’clock hit and taiga was embarrassed to have taken up so much of his time. he says i love you in the way that they briefly hold hands. in the words unsaid because now isn’t the time. in the lingering glances, in the i’ll take the couch tonight. ( taiga, in his way, says i love you as he says no you won’t, you’ll sleep with me. or at least he says i know you love me, which is good enough. ) of course they sleep together. taiga’s head comes to rest upon his chest. they’re clothed. it’s weird not immediately making out with him now that all that daiki can smell is taiga. they are silent as their arms find comfortable ways to settle to sleep. daiki waits for the longest time before he speaks. he waits for breathing to even out, and grip to loosen where taiga’s hand had come to rest at his hip. and, when he does speak, it’s barely a whisper scraped through his tired, croaking throat:

“i love you, tai.”

nothing happens. taiga had been asleep. the night wears on and daiki’s mind walks through every sentence they had spoken. he falls asleep as the stars start to fade, wakes up again when taiga is getting out of bed, but doesn’t stay up. later, the smell of breakfast makes him stir ( it’s never failed before ). taiga tells him that he’s got a job at a bakery, so this bread is actually made by him. it’s perfect, but of course it is. it’s his.

[regular-lord-reckoner]

i apologize in advance because this is probably going to be a lot but i just need to get some stuff out of my brain and hopefully be able to feel a little more at peace

so...okay, to start with we got a new dog today

should be a great thing, right? but i just...i really don’t think it’s a good idea

for one thing, it’s a very young pup, he’s only 7 weeks old. for another (and this is the biggest point) i had no idea this was even happening until it was already a done deal, i got no say in the matter

and i keep being told well, that’s not a problem because it’s not like i have to take care of him but like...of course i am. how would i fucking not?

my mom works a lot and spend a good portion of the week at work and even though i’m here most of the time i‘m usually upstairs

the primary caretaker of this dog is supposed to be my father but like...so seriously how is that going to go when the man spends a good portion of the day sleeping? who’s supposed to be letting this dog go outside to go to the bathroom or making sure he’s not into something?

and like, i don’t mean to be indelicate by any means, but my dad’s old. he’s not going to suddenly get better at this point in his life, in fact it’s only going to get worse from here and i feel like it’s already started

not too long ago he completely burned a pot and nearly burned down the kitchen because he forgot he was making beans on the stove top

any more it seems like if he starts a load of laundry he just...forgets it and i have to come behind him and stick them in the dryer or sometimes just rewash them altogether because they’ve started to smell sour

there’s just a lot of stuff like that where you can tell he started doing something but went to go check on something else or just wandered off and forgot about it completely

i’m genuinely worried about his memory starting to go and we think...giving him a living creature that depends on him for survival was a good idea? i’m sorry, i just don’t see it and that means i’ll have to pick up the slack and like. okay, i’ll do it for this poor little dog that also had no say in this but needs someone to take care of him but jesus fucking christ i just wish someone had bothered to run this by me first so i could at least mentally prepare for this

mind you too i’m already taking care of two cats that also aren’t mine and were brought here without me knowing anything about it and that was also a “well, it’s not your responsibility so don’t worry about it” kind of thing and well...here we are.

and i’m already trying to help out around here more as it is because like, no shit, i appreciate getting to stay here i really do so i don’t mind but honestly a lot of what i end up doing isn’t even my own stuff, y’know?

i’m taking care of myself but i’m also trying to go behind two other people and keep things clean and make things easier for everyone else and i don’t even get a courtesy like, “hey, big new responsibility dropping, get ready for it”? i dunno

and i’ve expressed all of this and just nothing. nobody gives a shit.

and so like okay, fine fair enough you know i’d been feeling anyway like i’m really ready to just...have my own place. again, i appreciate getting to stay here and genuinely have no fucking idea how i’d afford to live on my own but i’m starting to think i just need to bite the bullet and either get a second job or see about some other potential ways to make money

the only thing about that is...there’s a big part of me that’s like, “what’s the point? how long do you think you’ll get to even have your own life anyway?”

because again like...my dad’s old. his health, although not as bad as it has been in the past couple of years is still not going to do a miraculous turn around and like...especially if his mind is starting to go what are my options, realistically?

i go off and start my own life and will just have to give it up to come back here to help take care of him

and i know you’re probably thinking, “well no, you don’t have to do that,” but don’t i?

i’m just going to make my mom deal with that all by herself? there’s no other kids but me who will help. other family might but it’s not really fair to put that on them either and on top of that because we really hit the jackpot with relatives i can’t even begin to tell you how many vultures are going to come out of the woodworks when they get even a hint that things are going bad (hell, that already started when he was going through cancer treatments during this pandemic no less and family were messaging him wanting to know if they could come and visit like...absolutely not, what the fuck are you thinking??)

and i love my mom but she doesn’t take the greatest care of herself and i don’t really want to get into it but she’s definitely started to worry me with her drinking lately.

i feel like i can’t leave here. i feel like everything will fall apart if i do and that when shit really does hit the fan i need to be here so...why bother to leave?

i want to, but can i?

i don’t feel like my life is even mine at this point 

they’re not bad people, i can’t justify doing my own thing and telling them to kick rocks, especially after all they’ve done for me but at the same time i just don’t want to be stuck here forever

i just feel really, really trapped

and i know when people say that everyone gets nervous because uh-oh, that’s suicide talk!! but that’s the fucked thing too is that’s part of what feels especially suffocating

that’s not an option for me. not unless i want to hurt them as badly as possible and i don’t.

and you’d think it’s be maybe a relief to not have that as an option anymore, that oughta steer things in a more positive direction just naturally but instead it just kind of feels like someone’s trapped me in a room that’s slowly filling with water and there are no exit doors or vents or any possible means of escape so i just have to either sit here and slowly wait to drown or do what feels impossible and find some way to make all the water leave and build a better room

and obviously i should be talking about all of this with y’know, an actual therapist but that’s still proving really difficult at the moment

i made a new list of potential ones i just haven’t been able to reach out to any just yet and it definitely doesn’t help that every time i start to gear up to do it it seems like i get online and see a bunch of posts that are like, “honestly, therapy is a scam and not at all worth it and you’re stupid if you think it actually helps anyone, it’s likely to just traumatize you more and you can never trust a therapist!!” and i’m just like oh, okay then

because that’s the thing of it too like i need to talk to somebody, right? but clearly the shit i need to talk about is heavy and despite my trapped predicament like...i need to talk about these dark thoughts but is that going to get me hospitalized? is that going to fuck up my life even more?

and on top that, yeah dude, already having trust issues and being damn near incapable of letting new people into my life at all already doesn’t bode well in trying to find a person i can talk to about with all of this shit but i love the constant reminder that even getting to that point is likely going to be painful and could possibly just make shit that much worse!!!

i also just can’t stop thinking about the one therapist i did reach out to and that interaction alone has made me feel shitty enough. initially i tried to just take it in stride and figured it just wasn’t a good fit but now i’m convinced that’s how it’s going to go when i reach out to anyone else.

i’ll be made to feel like i’m stupid for needing someone to talk to because according to her “my clients have friends if they just want someone to talk to, y’know?” hahahaha no, i don’t but sure, go on!

like ma’am, no disrespect, i’m sure your methods work for someone, somewhere but i don’t think getting more sleep and walking more is going to fix the problem and on that subject...i don’t have friends

i have a friend and that’s about it

when i say i have trouble letting people into my life i really mean it

and yeah, maybe i’m just being a big baby about it all and i just need to like...try to make that happen anyway but i’m also at this point where it’s like...how?

actually how?

at my age?? finding friends??

on top of that just...i’ve been through my share of toxic friendships and although i’d like to think i’ve learned a lot since then and would hopefully never find myself in any again you never really know until you get into it, right? and just the thought of it, of putting myself out there, opening up, being vulnerable and just...letting people into my life only to possibly go through more shit it just sounds exhausting and terrifying.

i know it’s what i need to do, i know i can’t just close myself off from the world and essentially cease to exist while still being here but it just feels so fucking overwhelming and then on top of that like i said before, is there even a point?

because it kind of seems like i’m going to be needed here indefinitely and so is that just my life then? i’m just a loser who never leaves her hometown, never moves out, never has a life of her own or expands her circle to include more people because she just has to stay here and watch over things and take care of everyone and all the added responsibilities they keep bringing into this house without even running it by me first?

it feels like it and maybe it doesn’t have to be but it feels like it

and it just feels really, really suffocating 

and hopeless

and maybe it’s not really, maybe i’m missing something here but i feel like i can see down the road for many, many miles and it doesn’t look promising

and i feel selfish and horrible for even saying all of this because it sounds like i’m just pissed off i have to take care of things and it’s really not that

i genuinely don’t mind helping out and maintaining a space and i don’t even really mind cleaning all that much, it can be a good stress relief i’ve found but it’s just this overwhelming feeling i have of like...this is my life. this is all it’s ever going to be.

i’m going to sit here and watch everyone else go on and live their lives, have lots of friends and romance and really just experience life and i’m just going to be sitting here left in the dust at home chasing after pets and trying to keep everything from falling apart until the bottom does inevitably fall out so i can be here to pick up the pieces just like i did last time

and i mean if that’s the case then i’ll make peace with it, i just wish it could be different i guess. if nothing else, i wish i didn’t have this urge to change things or to have a different life because it just doesn’t feel possible right now. feels very much like if i step away even for a second that everything’s going to go wrong and i’ll be partially to blame because if i had been here maybe things would be different

then again, the last time something tragic happened and i lost someone i loved very much i was here and it didn’t make a damn difference so maybe my presence isn’t as important as i think but i guess that’s part of it too like...that happened on my watch and if something else bad happens when i’m not here... i’m barely living with the first shit, i don’t know if i could handle the second

idk. this is really stupid i think but it’s been in my head for a while now and with this new dog thing i’m just kind of at my breaking point with it so here you go, void.

hopefully i’ll be able to talk myself into getting a therapist anyway even though i’m scared to death because i know i shouldn’t be putting this here but right now i just feel incredibly stuck and i’m not sure what to do or where to go

[kyber-crystal]

A-Z List of Fluff

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: An alphabetic list of yours and Steve’s dynamic relationship. 

Warnings: none, mainly just fluff and very very slight mentions of violence but that’s it :)

A/N: I combined these prompts from multiple people, so credits to all of them <3 @goldenhour-goldenboy​ . this is a friends to lovers trope :) Some letters are repeated. bcI wanted to add in an extra concept. This is prolly gonna flop bc its not a traditional oneshot, but I wanted to publish something for y’all while I’m editing my WIPs

A= Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

Steve loves everything about you, but the two things that really drew him to you was your smile and compassion. Your smile and laugh were extremely infectious - nobody could stay mad for long when you were cracking a grin. Despite having been through hell in the past: overcoming many hardships and enduring countless difficult wars, you managed to find it in your heart to keep faith in humanity and always held your head up high no matter what. You were always respectful and kind to everyone around you, and he greatly admired that.

B= Best memory (What is the best memory they have with you?)

One weekend after a particularly rough mission in Eastern Europe, Fury forced the Avengers on a team vacation to Bora Bora for two weeks. During that time, you and Steve had grown extremely close - taking daily sunset walks, surfing together, and swimming with dolphins. It was a jam-packed fourteen days to remember. He loved seeing you genuinely happy as you got to relax.

C= Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

You’d moved in to DC together after the Battle of New York, and often times you spent evenings on the couch eating takeout while wrapped up in each others’ arms, so cuddling is almost second nature for him. He’ll come up behind you on nights you’re in charge of cooking for the team, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as you prepared dinner. He loves to cuddle and he’s built perfectly for them. His muscular figure and warm arms make the best cuddles. Sometimes, he’ll randomly come into your room in the middle of the night and snuggle up against you. You’ll wake up in the morning to see him holding you tightly like a koala, an arm draped protectively around your torso and his legs entangled with yours. The team likes to tease you about your close-knit relationship and as in love with him as you were with each other, you kept trying to deny it in fears of those feelings not being returned. 

D= Dreams (What do they want to do in life?)

Steve is a very determined and headstrong man, with the desire to fight for his country and its citizens having been ingrained in the back of his head since he was a mere teenager. He doesn’t know when he’ll retire and give up the title of Captain America, but for the time being, he wants to keep doing what he’s doing. He loves his job and his teammates - he wouldn’t trade them for the world. But he knows he’d like to marry you and start a family with you someday.

E= Everything (You are my ___ (e.g my life, my world…))

“You are my infinity.”

F= Feelings (When did they know they were falling in love?)

You were on a quad mission with him, Sam, Bucky, and Wanda to take down a Hydra base stationed in northern Serbia. Steve was stuck in a fistfight with one of the agents and you could see another approaching from behind to ambush him, and you knew if you didn’t step up and do something, that he would die. So without a moment’s hesitation you ran into the crossfire, taking the bullet that was meant for him, straight to your stomach.

As upset as he was with you for getting injured, he couldn’t help the feeling of pride and awe in his chest at your unwavering willingness to lay your life on the line for those you loved; your selflessness. 

And he knew in that moment, he’d fallen for you, and fallen hard.

G= Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Steve’s naturally a gentle person (though he’s an absolute beast on the battlefield, with those skills of his) and everyone on the team can clearly see he has a big soft spot for you. He’s always extremely gentle and very polite: holding the door open for you, putting his hand out in front of the elevator doors so you can step in, and makes sure not to squish you too tightly because his bear hugs can be quite strong. Essentially, the man is a giant puppy.

H= Hand/Hold (How do they like to hold? How do they like to hold hands?)

He absolutely loves holding hands. It’s been a frequent habit of his - both platonic and non-platonic. He’ll take your hand in his and intertwine your fingers together, and when he senses that you’re anxious about a situation, he’ll begin rubbing circles across your palm to calm you down. Like always, the team goes nuts whenever you two do so much as make eye contact, because you’re acting like a couple but aren’t doing anything about it.

I= Impression (First Impression)

From the moment you first met, you and Steve were attached at the hip. Having been 27 when he came out of the ice, and you being just a couple years behind him at 24, you were assigned to help him adjust. He remembers seeing you walk in with your radiant smile and your head held high, greeting him politely. He particularly liked how patient you were with him, taking him around the city and updating him on all there was to know, answering all his questions. By the time you both joined the Avengers Initiative, and the Battle of New York came and went, you were practically inseparable.

I= I love you (Who says it first?)

Steve does. You’re already very comfortable around one another that he doesn’t think before saying it. It was so out of the blue when it happened - you were in charge of dinner for the team one night when he came and kissed your cheek as a thank-you, saying a quick “I love you, darling,” before sitting down between Natasha and Sam, who looked just as shocked as you did. 

“So are you guys dating or what?” Bucky questioned. 

“No,” you and Steve replied in unison, though your cheeks were both bright red.

J= Joker (Are they into pranks?)

He’s not a huge prankster like Loki and Sam, but occasionally he’ll walk up behind you and whisper ‘Boo!” into your ear, making you jump and scream lightly, whacking him in the shoulder from shock. But you realize it’s just him, not someone else - and quickly burst into laughter. It’s impossible for you to get mad at America’s golden boy.

K= Kisses (How do they kiss?)

Contrary to your initial belief, he doesn’t mind PDA at all. You would often joke around about people mistaking you two as a couple because of how close you were. You’d greet each other in the morning with a kiss on the cheek (earning snickers from Bucky and Sam), and he’d say goodnight by kissing you lightly on the forehead.

His kisses are very gentle and wholehearted, yet filled with passion at the same time. You can almost never get enough.

Your first kiss wasn’t how you thought it’d be at all. It was on a Costco grocery run one Sunday afternoon when you were trying to reach up to one of the higher racks to grab something, struggling on your tiptoes. He offered to help you and as he pulled the item down, you’d grown rather close, literally - with your lips being just a few centimeters apart. Oh, screw it, he thought to himself, placing a hand on the small of your back and pulling you to him, pressing his lips to yours. 

L= Little Things (What little things do they love/notice.)

Steve notices that whenever you’re extremely focused on something, you bite your bottom lip and an adorable little crease between your brows appears. He always likes to tease you about it.

M= Moment (Their favorite moment.)

Getting caught under the mistletoe at Tony’s party. As cheesy as it sounded, it was your guys’ favorite moment together. When his eyes landed on you in your shimmery gown, his heart began to race. You were the literal definition of a dream, perfection. And when he finally kissed you it felt like fireworks were going off in his chest, electricity shooting through his body as your lips met. It was only your second official kiss but everything about it felt so real, so true, so right - that he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

N= Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Steve doesn’t normally go way over-the-top when it comes to gifts, but whenever it’s a major holiday or your birthday, he goes all-out. He’s a very good listener, so he’ll take note of the things you like that come up in conversation and take notes later, and will buy you those exact things. He loves seeing your face light up as you receieve his gifts - that’s when he knew he loved giving more than getting. 

O= Orange (What color reminds them of their other half?)

Red. You’re bright-spirited and confident and kindhearted all at the same time, and not to mention powerful - just like the color itself. He can’t help but notice how good you look whenever you wear red - especially in your stealth suit with its’ burgundy highlights. He has to be paired up with Bucky all the time on missions so he wouldn’t get hurt while he was distracted with watching you fight.

P= Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Sweetheart, love, darling, doll, honey, etc. <3 (and once again, the team is frustrated because you’re acting like a couple but haven’t even started dating)

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Steve naturally has a better-than-average memory, but he remembers much more about you than the rest of the team does. He knows your birthday, your favorite color, your likes and dislikes, and every little detail. He remembers all the little things. He can’t help but remember everything when he’s so in love with you. And when he brings this up into conversation, it makes you fall even harder for him.

R= Rainy Days (How does he/she comfort them on dark days?)

You don’t have to tell Steve directly for him to be able to tell when something’s wrong. He knows you like the back of his hand, a skill nobody else on the team had. When you’re rather quiet after a rough mission or just feeling down in the dumps, he doesn’t talk, doesn’t ask any intrusive questions (he knows you hate it when people do that), and just pulls you into a warm embrace and holds you until you feel better. And usually, that’s all that’s needed to lift your spirits.

S= Soft (Something one of them did that turned the other into absolute mush.)

When he called you by a pet name for the first time. It was in the middle of an intense sparring match together in the boxing ring, the team eagerly watching from the sidelines as you circled each other. “You’re tough, but you’re gonna have to try harder than that, sweetheart,” he murmured into your ear. You froze, taken aback, and in that moment of hesitation he whipped around and put you into a firm headlock. 

“The tension is through the roof here, I swear to Odin’s beard,” Sam groaned. “Just date already.”

S= Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Steve is extremely protective of you. He’ll make sure to walk on the outside when you’re walking down the sidewalk together because as he insisted to you, “your safety is my number one priority”, often pairs up with you on missions to look out after you and if not, constantly checks in via comms to make sure you’re alright. With the way he’s constantly hovering over you, the team likes to tease him for acting like a worried boyfriend or husband. 

T= Talking (What do they love to talk about?)

Anything and everything that comes to mind, whether that be old memories together, favorite memories with the team, your childhoods, or what was on the news that day. You could go on talking for hours at a time - in fact, there were many occasions in which you stayed up all night together, sitting around on the sofas in the lounge with mugs of hot chocolate in hand and the fireplace on, warming your bodies as you spoke.

U= Universe (Use a metaphor, what are they to each other? (e.g he was the universe, ever-changing and mysterious.))

Before you became an Avenger, you were one of twenty-eight dancer-trained enhanced assassins of the Red Room Academy alongside Natasha. A doubtful fighter, you, along with Natasha, were taken under Tony’s wing to further your training with SHIELD. Before becoming an Avenger, your life was a mess. You lost your family at a young age, torn away from the life you’d known as a little girl, forced to grow up too fast. So meeting Steve was like taking a breath of fresh air. He was your safe haven. He was a life raft and you were lost at sea, his presence serving as a reminder that you were in fact, still sane and not just drifting mindlessly through space.

V = Vaunt. (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Obviously, his strength and speed. He purposely lifts heavier weights in front of you while you’re training in the gym with him. “It’s arm day today,” he’d whisper, sending you a flirty wink as he flexed his biceps. You blushed. Bucky snorted and rolled his eyes.

W= Why (Reasons why they love you.)

There are so many reasons for him to love you. One, you give him a sense of peace and happiness, of home. You were his home. He felt like he could trust you with anything, as you were very easy to talk to. Steve loves how he could just be himself around you, as well as your competitive nature - that’s why he always asks you to go on his morning runs with him. And he loves your kind heart. You’ve seen and experienced far more war, more bloodshed and violence than anyone should have to experience in ten lifetimes, and still, forced yourself to be kind and gentle, to soften your heart. He loves you with his whole heart and soul and wouldn’t trade you for the world.

X= Xylophone (What’s their song?)

Electric Love by Børns. After a nice dinner at Olive Garden together one Friday night, you decided to go on a little late night drive throughout the city. With the windows of the Audi rolled down, the wind in your hair as your face lit up and you grinned from ear to ear, you both sang at the top of your lungs as you made your way through busy New York. He fell in love with you even more, if that was even possible.

Y= Youtube (What are they like online? Do they post about their relationship constantly?)

After several days of you pushing him to get Instagram, he finally made an account (quickly catching up to your 30-point-something million followers). He loves to post about you and your adventures outside of missions together and whenever he does, his followers go absolutely crazy. 

Z= Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

An adorable mixed breed. You’re both left with cleared schedules on one Monday morning after breakfast, so you decide to head out to the shelter. There’s one dog that stands out to him above the rest, and as soon as he sees them come running up to you and jumping around you, he knows that’s the one. You settle on the name Dodger and take it home. The entire team spoils him to death.

[katgreeves]

a case of the biggest cards (a tua holiday fic)

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait."

Or: The Hargreeves make the best of their royal fucking up of the timeline and spend Christmas Eve together at last.

heyyyyyyy @a-fucking-velociraptor it’s me your secret santa for @secret-santa-klaus!! wanted to do a little sibling bonding fic for you and then I went overboard LMAOOO I hope you like it anyways and happy holidays!!! I hope you’re having the best times this season!!

it’s also on ao3 to read for your reading pleasure!! (if you have an ao3 acc by all means lemme know so I can gift it to you on there!)

Fine hands move quickly to practiced motions. Long, nimble fingers sent cards flying as they shuffled around in the deck.

The five of them were all sitting on the floor, wrapped around a worn coffee table and leaning against the sofa and armchairs around them. Assorted pillows strewn about to comfort them, they were slowly going through the 3 bottles of whatever shitty drink they had trusted Diego with getting for the night. One of them was already empty.

Since the whole Dooms-didn’t/Apoca-nope-lypse/The Sparrow Academy timeline fuckery to the highest of degrees, they were all pretty much left in the dust. After a not so great first encounter with the “Sparrows” (none of them had even begun to comprehend the big emo looking elephant in the room, let alone address it to each other) they were promptly kicked our of the Hargreeves mansion. It took a while after that, but eventually they found a flat somewhere in the city for cheap to hide out in. The place wasn’t really cozy, totally not big enough for all of them together, but it was a roof over their heads to keep them safe enough till they could figure how to bring back their own timeline and finally have this behind them once and for all.

If that even existed anymore.

Klaus leered tiredly at the movements. Had it been himself dealing with the deck, he’s sure it would not be nearly as graceful, instead the cards would probably move clumsily with his fidgety hands and scrawny fingers, spewing all over the place. Then again, it might just be the signature “Rumor Charm.” Alli made everything look elegant, it was one of her best skills, one she gained with no powers, no rumors, that she did without even trying. It was just her.

“Allison. Darling sister of mine. While this in no means to rush you at all, I just want you to know that I’ve murdered entire Commision boards in shorter amounts of time that you’re taking right now.”

That, the source of the uncannily on cue quip, was Five. The grouch wasn’t letting up his smartass act up for one bit, even for the goddamn holidays. How predictable.

“First, you’ve only killed one commision board. Second, this is a Christmas Eve party, aka fun night party, aka we are not having discussions of our more colorful histories for one night party, please-”  

“Can we actually start the game? I hear Santa hates it when he's’ trying to do his job and sneak like a ninja or whatever only to see six idiots in a small dingy, dark as shit living room bickering over cards and oh wait- they've been at this since when?”

All eyes focused on whom that voice belonged to, which was Diego. While he was working at defrosting himself of his bitter and snarky facade, it didn’t really help that he was both tired and annoyed as shit at the wait right now.

“Quite a bold accusation that Santa wants to see any of us after all the shit we’ve pulled Di.”

“Even if he did, does he even know how to find us now? You know, technically not existing anymore and all-”

“What did Allison just say guys-”

“Hey Vanny, we’re just-”

“Okay, I think it’s time we get this show on the road shall we?” Allison pointedly interrupted with, brandishing the now shuffled deck of cards to veer the group to their original intentions (She does that a lot nowadays).

“Thank goodness. At the rate that we’re going it’s only a matter of time before we become itty bitty old grannies sitting on porches in rocking chairs.” Vanya crooned, scrunching up her face at the end to emphasize her point.

“Five’s essentially a grandparent already Vanya-”

“Well, he’ll just become a jurassic fossil I gue-”

PWACK

“Five!”

“That-” he gestured to the pen in Vanya’s hand he has just whacked her in the face with (Klaus had admittedly, bursted out a sharp spark of laughter at the sight) “is what happens when you are the only one I tolerate slightly more than average and you use this weakness to lead me to a complete and utter betrayal.”

“Betrayal?”

“You know, we actually promised Luther we’d let him bake in peace this time.”

Indeed, as Allison had oh so clearly reminded them, while the others were engaging in whatever was going on right now, Luther was trying baking some red velvet muffins (“No, don’t look at me like that, this is a totally normal amount of food coloring to put in the batter. They have to be the brightest red guys! Come on, it’s Christmas!”) in the kitchen close by. He was in there a lot nowadays, essentially becoming their new Grace in terms of their meals. He claimed it was a cathartic process for him, and in return they all just enjoyed the free meals.

“Jokes on Luther if he’s dumb enough to actually belive that.”

The last comment earned an eruption of laughs all around the table, a scandalized “Vanny!” here and there. Such was expected from their Vanya, the now youngest of the group (and isn’t that wild? Their entire lives were dictated by nothing else but the fact they were quite the peculiar, unlucky septulets and time travel and fucking Dallas took even that away from them). A complete contrast from the Vanya that was so long ago, sarcasm and laughter were her now weapons of choice as she’d talk and tease non stop about anything with a grin. Honestly, good for her.

With cards now flying across the table, it was time for the real shit. The game was one that Klaus had actually taught them. It was one of the many “souvenirs” that he had brought back from Vietnam. He had learnt it, along with the rest of his squadron from one Private Darren Teow. “T” for short, although the boys called him “Croc” after an embarrassing incident where he was the main star of a disaster march across a riverbank (oh boy was that a wild day).  

His parents had come to the United States back in the early 40’s for a chance of something new, and for their son, a chance of something better, a life of his own that could be so grand.

“And what a real great life this is, isn’t it?” He had said one night, a one in a kind night where the jungles were silent of the noises that shook them all for once and instead was filled with the laughter and cheering of the squadron as days old beer was being passed around like candy. Raising his can in the air, the bitter cynicism in his voice rang clear. “Trying to save my head from blowing up to bits everyday on the floor these fucking jungles. A goddamn blast if I’ve ever seen one. Three cheers for the Land of the Fucking Free-”

It wasn’t played as much as a usual game of poker, but whenever there was a fleeting moment here and there, or nobody had any cigs left to bet after Katz snatched them all (Rule Number 15 of the 173rd: Do not let that All-American face and charm fool you. That man will have your rations in his godly chiseled arms and the palms of his hands before you can even put down a card).

Sometimes, when he and Dave were cooped up in some motel room in Saigon during leave, trying to avoid another Sky Soldier who would try and drag them along for a night on the town,  they’d decide to play it together, just the two of them. And by that it meant Dave would offer to play a round of poker, and Klaus would beg to play this instead for a “fun change of pace, you know?”

“You mean, when you don’t want to eat utter shit at the hands of your awfully gifted beloved and can’t face the fact that you can’t keep a straight face for shit?”

“Be thankful you have a god gifted jawline from Adonis himself, or else I would have busted out of this motel aeons ago.”

“What can I say if I learnt it from the best?”

“Fuck you Kitty Katz.”

“I love you too, starlight.”

“That’s it, you are disqualified for hitting me with that sappy shit. I love you too.”

He smiled, chuckling softly at the memory as his hands reached for the familiar chain of cold steel around his neck, the motion second nature at this point. God, Klaus missed that dork so much.

Teow had called the game Big Two. At the very core of it, spades’ the best, then hearts, then clubs, and last and very least: diamonds. The bigger the better. Except for two. That little fucker gets you far. Put down as many as you can at rapidfire speed. First one to finish their cards in hand is winner winner chicken dinner!

Cards, muffins on the way, and a slightly tired (tipsy) family that have competitive and snarky written in their bones and running in their veins. A sure fire way for total absolute mayhem on earth. Oh this is gonna be fun. Klaus can't wait.

He wishes Ben were here. God knows how much that little shit would be enjoying this right now.

The cards were swiftly dealt. He inspected his hand, as the others were talking about theirs. On top were the first two cards, two threes.

The game carried on as a normal one, duets of cards spilling on the table. And then, a lull as yet again his siblings had started another feud. This time, Diego was convinced Five was cheating somehow. Hell, knowing the little menace, he probably was.

Klaus must have dozed off somewhere, because it was only when a hand slammed into his shoulder that his head whipped back to the table, about to mutter a quick apology to what he expected were a circle of tired faces. Instead, he saw a cacophony of grim expressions. Something was going awry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Klaus-”

“You know, the last time I checked, I was the Seance around here-”

“Klaus-”

Klaus mocked a gasp, dramatically placing a hand on his chest as he feigned a look of shock on his face. “No! Don’t tell me you all are putting a Lila on me-”

“Five’s on his last card!” they all exclaimed, exasperated by Klaus’ usual antics.

Oh. Well, that's where the problem quickly emerged. Shit.

“Put something! Anything! Don’t let him win!” Allison shrieked.

“How can she? He’s got some damn strong cards there!” Diego added.

They had to be pulling his leg. Already? Things had just started getting good around here. Or you know, Klaus assumes it was before he was lost in wherever the fuck his mind went. But alas, a hesitant glance at the table and indeed, on the stack of cards, were two aces. Goddamn aces. Scouring through his hand, a sigh came over the medium. Those were some goddamn miracle cards.

Again, if only Benjamin was here. Sure, after their last poker fiasco, the little shit would probably decide to just screw him over again cause he had such a fun ride the last time around. But still, it was at least better than nothi-

Wait. Eyes perked up as Klaus saw a lifeline of a card in his hand.

Aces may have been big.

But they weren’t the biggest.

And with that a couple of two’s were places on the table, and Klaus, with a calm, low tone uttered-

“Last card.”

An array of sounds could be heard. Gasps, exasperated groans and sighs echoed across the table as cards were chucked in the middle in a show of surrender. Five glared daggers, as one would at the person who caused their defeat. It didn’t really matter to the medium anymore because-

“Victory is mine, bitches.”

A scoff, then an eyeroll before Five uttered “Beginner’s luck.”

“I’m the one who told you how to play you little shit.”

“Well, then it’s just a stroke of luck then. The game’s all chance anyways.”

“You goddamn pri-”

“Could it kill you all to be a bit quieter?” Luther asks, cutting the action as he finally stepped into the room.

“Lutherino!”

“Big guy finally decided to show up huh?”

“My apologies Razor Boy, didn’t want to give you guys burnt shit now, didn’t I?” he says, placing a pile of whatever he had made on the table, which was met with an applause all around. Oh damn they looked good.

“You guys only love me for cooking, don’t you?”

“Well, now that you’ve said it-”

“Five!” With a whack on his shoulder, Allison chided the former assassin while scooting a bit into Diego, patting the empty space she’d just created for Luther to plop into.

“Think you could come in with a cute little apron, you know, really sell into the chef role you’ve set for yourself here? One with an abundance of frills, preferably.”

“No, absolutely not Klaus. Now pass me the goddamn cards to shuffle before you guys start some shit again.”

“Wow, our Numero Uno now joins in on the gambling fun? Whatever happened to our ever so righteous bro bro?

“Klaus, I worked with Jack Ruby for a year. You don’t wanna know half the things I’ve witnessed.”

And that was it. That was their breaking point. It wasn’t long before the whole room erupted into laughter and wow this is so good.

It isn’t perfect. They all struggled to fit, it was way too chilly for comfort even under assorted layers of tight knit sweaters. Their hearts still panged for what they had already lost and what they were afraid they could still lose.

But, they were all together, and they haven’t been able to say that for so long. So, they could set all those worries and lingering annoyances aside for a bit to just be. Right here, right now, enjoying the warmth and joy of each other’s presence in a way they never thought they’d be so lucky to feel.

Later that night, Klaus resolves that if ever found Teow again, he’d have to thank him.

[solange-lol]

because you gave me a shot (and its been a long time since someone gave me a shot)

words: 2,552

solangelo week day 3: fantasy

read on ao3

When Nico asks Will to go to homecoming with him, he wasn’t expecting a yes.

Sure, they had a thing. They were friends, no more than that, but they were definitely closer than your average two friends. Maybe they were just comfortable with each other, or maybe it was because of Nico’s massive crush on Will that he may or may not reciprocate.

To each their own, though.

Nico wasn’t going to ask him out, originally. Honestly, he wasn’t even sure that he wanted to go to homecoming himself, much less with the boy he had liked for years, (that is, if Will said yes.)

If Piper and Annabeth hadn’t brought it up during lunch, he probably wouldn’t have asked Will at all.

They’re talking casually as they do during their shared lunch period. It’s no different from your normal Friday, although Nico can definitely see Piper and Annabeth sharing some pointed looks with each other every time he and Will got into another deep conversation.

(By deep conversation, he means he would go off about something and Will would sit there and nod. He never seemed upset about it though, and he once told Nico that he liked to hear him talk about the things he was passionate about, so Nico never stopped.)

The moment the two bring up the homecoming dance that night, though, Nico knows he’s being set up.

He doesn’t partake in the conversation at first, hoping that if he keeps quiet and doesn’t give his opinion about Annabeth and Piper’s dresses that they’ll drop the subject, but he gets no such luck.

“So,” Annabeth says, crossing her legs. “Are you going tonight, Will?”

Will looks up from his sandwich in surprise.

“Um, I don’t know. I don’t really know who’s going, so I don’t know if I have any reason to,” he explains.

Nico knows what’s coming next without even hearing Piper start talking.

“Really? Because Nico-”

“Do you want to go to homecoming with me?” Nico asks before she can even finish. If he’s going to ask out Will, he’s not letting Piper do it for him.

“With us, I mean, ‘cuz we’re going as a group, but, like, with me with the group,” he continues rambling out an explanation, trying to ignore the way his heart had leaped into his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Annabeth and Piper rolling their eyes at him.

“Oh,” Will blinks. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

“Okay,” Nico says. “Okay, cool. Sounds good. I’ll, uh, text you tonight, then.” He can feel heat creeping into cheeks, and does his best to push it away. He was not expecting a yes after that mess of an invitation and holy shit Annabeth and Piper that high five was not subtle.

“Okay,” Will nods.

Before Nico can stutter out anything else embarrassing, the lunch bell rings, saving him.  He says his goodbyes to Will and the girls quickly before making his way to his art class. Even with the loud, overlapping conversations and crowded space that the hallway brings, he’s still replaying the conversation in his head.

Nico enters the studio a little bit pinker, and a little bit more confident in himself.

⁠—

Nearly three hours into the dance, Will still hasn’t shown up. No, text, no apology. Not even an excuse as to why he stood Nico up.

Nothing.

It was too good to be true. He should have known.

Nico curses at himself internally. He should have known. Just when he felt like he finally did something right, the universe reminds him that everyone in the world is against him once again. As much as he wants to keep denying that Will didn’t stand him up, he did.

And it fucking hurts. A lot.  

Maybe it wouldn’t have bothered him as much if Will didn’t act so genuinely excited to go to homecoming with Nico. If he didn’t want to go, or only said yes out of pity, he could have at least hinted to Nico that he wasn’t going to show up.

All day though, Will kept giving him that look; the look that he saved just for Nico. And as they were leaving their chemistry class that they had together last period, Will had told him “see you tonight!” before splitting off to their respective study halls.

For the first few hours, Nico tried to act like it was something besides him that caused it. Maybe a family emergency, or maybe he was too nervous to dance with another boy in front of the school (if he even was planning on dancing with Nico that was.) But wouldn’t he have sent Nico a text, or said no in the first place if that was the case? Even Will had sent him a shitty excuse, Nico still probably would have accepted it over whatever this feeling was.

Yeah, no. By the third hour and still no word from Will, he wasn’t going to keep lying to himself. This was him being stood up.

It just sucks, because Nico thought they had something. For once in his life, he really thought someone was giving him a shot, and yet. Which meant he was probably making up anything between him and Will because he just wanted it so badly, and Will was too nice to say no.

He’s right back at square one.

No, he’s been at square one the entire time.

That hurts too.

Nico is still moping by himself at the table like he has been for the entirety of the dance when, out of all people, Reyna out of all people comes out and grabs his arm. He didn’t even know she was here.  

“Come on,” she says. “We’re dancing.”

Usually, Reyna can get Nico to do anything, but the last thing he wants to do right now is dance.

(That part sucks too. The situation has essentially ruined his first homecoming, which he should be upset about. He isn’t, though. Because it’s Will , and because Nico is tired, and he can never be mad at Will even when he isn’t tired.)

He groans, pulling his arm away from her. “No, we’re not.”

“Nico,” Reyna says, pulling at his arm again. “You don’t need a dance partner to dance. Now come on.”

Maybe he’s considering her point, or maybe Nico just realizes this isn’t a battle he’s going to win, so he stands up.

Nico follows Reyna out onto the dance floor. The majority of their student body is already swarmed together. It’s sweaty, and crowded, and makes Nico feel weirdly embarrassed like he doesn’t belong in this group.

He’s about to tell Reyna he’s going back to sit down, but before he can escape, she pulls him into a smaller group of their friends off to the side. It’s still connected to the bigger crowd, but they’re in a kind of circle and everyone’s dancing, and it feels okay.

“See? This isn’t so bad?” she elbows Nico, who rolls his eyes. She’s right though. It’s actually kind of fun. None of them are particularly good dancers, but nobody is really paying attention to each other either. Everyone is doing their own thing.

A new song starts, and it’s one Nico recognizes from his childhood. Everyone in the room does too, and immediately more people come out to the center of the gym. The dancing gets faster paced, and the energy builds until its exhilarating.

At some point, their circle gets bigger, and Nico finds himself pushed more into the center of it. His first reaction is to get the heck outta there, but after a few seconds, the energy is back, and he just lets go.

Lets go of Will. Lets go of the school. Lets go of everyone around him, saying his name (he did not know this many people knew who he was.)

Lets go of the night altogether and just lets himself exist .

And somehow, every bad feeling he previously had is gone. It’s all replaced with the absolute exhilaration and genuine happiness to be there.

The song ends, replaced by the start of a slow one. Thankfully, Nico doesn’t feel his heart sink like it had for the past 3 hours every time he watched couples group together. Instead, he just tales the minute to breathe.

To his surprise, Annabeth makes her way over. She’s wearing a blueish gray dress that stops right above her knees, the color matching with her boyfriend, Percy’s tie.

“I’m sorry for what happened at lunch,” she tells him. They’re not even that close, and she’s at least half a foot taller than him, but she still grabs his arm as if he’s her date instead. “I always think about how long I waited for Percy to ask me out, and I didn’t want you two to have to sit through that weird gray area, but it wasn’t what I thought it was.”

Nico shrugs. “Yeah, well,” he says vaguely, then “It’s okay.” Because it is. He honestly feels the best he’s felt all day in this moment.

She grins, raising her eyebrows slightly. “I saw you dancing. Will doesn’t know what he’s missing,” she says, and it causes heat to immediately rush to his face.

Before he can respond, though, his eyes catch something (more like someone.)

Will Solace is making his way across the gym floor to Nico.

Annabeth notices too, patting Nico’s arm before returning to Percy and the others. Meanwhile, his eyes are still trained on the approaching boy.

“Looks like I missed a lot,” Will says softly. He must have come in at the tail end of the song, which means he saw Nico, proving what Annabeth said.

Nico’s still so shocked by him, and his presence even after 3 hours, and the soft blue button up that matches his eyes that he’s paired with a navy blue flowered tie. His hair is slightly styled, but the curls still come through around his ears and in front of his eyes. It’s too much, and yet he can’t take his eyes off of Will.

He’s here. For Nico.

“The dance started three hours ago,” Nico finally says, because that’s the only thing he can say. He wants an explanation, wants a reason to forgive Will.

“I know, and I’m sorry. My family is crazy, and there’s only one car, and my mom was in between gigs and my siblings were being annoying, and none of that matters because I am so, so sorry.”

“You could have texted,” Nico responds in an attempt to ignore the feeling, and he notices how hurt he sounds. He is hurt, and he’s scared for whatever excuse is to come next.

“I cracked my phone earlier on my way out of school, and I don’t have your number memorized, so I couldn’t reach you,” he fishes said phone out of his pocket and shows it to Nico. It is indeed cracked, and bad enough that it won’t turn on. It almost makes Nico laugh, the way he brought it just to prove himself. As if he needed to prove himself to Nico.

“I’m really sorry about being so late,” he continues, and he sounds so desperate it tugs at Nico’s chest. He’s still looking at Nico right in the eye. They’re so dark in the dance lighting they almost look black, but he can see the tiny bit of blue reflecting in the light that is searching, begging for his forgiveness on this.

“You’re going to need to get your phone fixed at some point,” Nico smiles slightly. “I’m better at texting than talking to your face.”

“Oh yeah?” Will raises his eyebrow, and he’s still searching Nico’s face even though they both know exactly what's going on right now. “Why’s that?”

“Shut up,” Nico shoves him slightly, but Will holds onto his arm, and pulls him in close.

“So am I forgiven?” he asks as they begin to dance together slowly. He says it in a way that Nico can’t tell if he’s joking or being serious, but the answer is obvious.

“Yeah,” Nico nods against Will’s chest. (He’s taller than Nico, too. Basically everyone in the school is.) “Yeah, you’re forgiven.”

And maybe Reyna is right. Maybe he doesn’t need a dance partner to dance.

But it’s so much better with one.

⁠—

The two of them are sitting outside the school together after the dance winds down. They’re both waiting for their rides. It’s like a cruel race to see who gets here faster: Nico’s neglective dad (honestly, his stepmom is probably the one coming) or Will’s mom who works late night gigs.

At least it gives them more time together though before they’re separated for the weekend.

(Nico is really praying Will gets his phone fixed at some point over the weekend so they can text or meet up. He doesn’t know if he can wait until Monday morning to see Will again.)

They’re holding hands, too. Will had grabbed Nico’s hand after they sat back down after their dance together and hasn’t let go since.

“Thank you for waiting for me,” Will says, taking Nico by surprise. (There’s been a lot of surprises tonight.)

“I wasn’t expecting you to,” he continues, squeezing Nico’s hand softly. “When I realized I was going to be late, really late, I thought you were going to leave. And that I blew my one shot at this.”

He squeezes Nico’s hand again, not quite making eye contact with him, but he shifts a little closer so their thighs are touching. Nico feels his heart leap into his throat.

“I didn’t want to,” he admits. “I kind of spiraled a bit, but Reyna and the others were able to drag me out of it. It never crossed my mind to leave before then, though. I guess part of me just knew, or was just really, really hoping you would show up.”

“And then I did,” Will grins cheesily, finally making eye contact with him, and Nico almost forgets how to speak as Will’s face inches closer to his

“And then you did,” he agrees after a second.

“I’m glad you stuck around.”

Nico swallows. “Me too,” he says. It’s barely a whisper, and Will wouldn’t have been able to hear him if their lips weren’t an inch apart.

Will glances down, then back up to Nico. “Since you asked me to homecoming,” he starts, his eyes flickering back down for a moment. “Can I ask to kiss you?”

Nico’s chest swells. “You don’t have to ask,” he says before closing the distance between them.

Will shifts slightly, kissing him deeper. Nico’s hands come up to rest on his cheeks, then slide up, running through his hair. He has no idea what he’s doing, but it feels right.

And sure, they’re on a bench outside of their high school, where literally anyone or their parents could see them, but none of that matters when Will pulls back after a minute, his eyes wide and lips slightly pinker.

“I’m really glad you stuck around,” he says, and Nico laughs slightly before pulling him back in.

Yeah, despite the negative feelings that the night started out with, it was worth it to be able to do this.

⁠—

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[secret-engima]

So in your Naruto FF cover where Noct/Yoru is believed to be a god, what are the reactions of the families of the Chocobros? Cause their Clan member just got poached but they've also been really strange ever since their near death experience that woke up their memories (or did they always remember)? Especially the Hyuuga because they basically had Hikaru/Ignis enslaved and branded. Or even some povs from the Chocobros. (Poor Prompto, being an Aburame lol)

Ooooo tricky. Kinda depends on the family?

Lemme see- Ignis’s family are Most Displeased. They are super possessive of their eyeballs and treat their branch members as slaves anyway so they see it more like theft than a powerful man claiming a friend. Of course, there’s not much they can DO about it considering it’s Yoru and he burns Ignis’s seal off in .05 seconds and also threatens to burn the rest of the main branch to the ground if they touch Ignis again (not in so many words, but his magic does flatten a few of the members with its intensity when they got too close to Ignis.

Tbh that’s probably a blood grudge the Hyuga hold until Naruto’s time even though they stay in Konoha and Ignis is known among the hyuga not only as the blind member but the Stolen Hyuga. A warning to all hyuga of what will happen if they are not careful with their eyes and other such nonsense that only works because younger Hyuga don’t interact with Yoru enough to know that he’s a really chill dude and Ignis is happy where he is.

The Inuzuka are not too thrilled at first, but more laidback about it? Gladio still visits and they can tell that he’s Super Happy about being reunited with Yoru, and Yoru is polite and respectful to them and their dogs like him and you can never go wrong with the opinion of dogs in an Inuzuka’s eyes.

The Aburame ... are honestly the most chill about this? They aren’t too thrilled at first, but Yoru already has a Hyuga and an Inuzuka by then, so there is a precedent, and after a bit of watching it’s clear that these four are basically a Hive unto themselves and Prompto is happy to be there, is healthy and well cared for so they just kinda- shrug and move on. Maybe use the fact that one of their own is “Favored by Yoru” to their advantage during tricky Council meetings generations later.

The oddness and memories thing were long commented on, but ... mostly unnoticed in Hikaru’s case? Among the Branch Clan it was noted, but no one said anything or really thought about it because honestly I doubt the Hyuga have never had an Incident where Branch Members get a bit ... weird post Sealing and post a traumatic experience. That’s a chakra doohickey tattooed to your SKULL, side-effects are not impossible. The Inuzuka noticed it too, but Gladio was still ... himself, just a big more jaded and mature so they let it slide.

The Aburame maybe spent a good few years trying to figure out what the freak happened with Prompto though. Because they’ve never had a bug-a-phobic member before and it’s weird. They love him tho. He’s their disaster child.

Tbh in the Warring States Era nobody was really focused on mental health. If you were loyal to the Clan and could fight that was all that really mattered, weirdo personality changes aside.

Uhhh POVs but only short snips, and pls forgive any inconsistencies with previously establish AU lore my brain is tired and I may not keep all the details 100% straight. Just roll with it.:

Ignis:

After a lifetime of being blind, being able to SEE everything, all around, at any given time is unnerving. This entire era is unnerving and Hikaru has bitten his tongue more than once to keep from railing against it. Against sending CHILDREN, some not much older than toddlers out into the field, against the brand on his head and the heads of so many others that burns on the whim of a Main Branch member.

He keeps his head down, but inside ... he hates. More than a little bit. He is a fractured piece of glass and he knows too much pressure with make him snap, so he does his utmost to avoid those situations (because if he snaps children will get hurt even more than now and nothing will change in the Clan).

Then one day they go to meet Hashirama and Madara, to speak of peace, and of course Hikaru has heard of Yoru, the mysterious forest spirit that supposedly watches over the new village and ensures no fighting happens, but he does not actually think this Yoru will be all that impressive.

He never expects it to be NOCTIS. Noctis, who looks at him with hope and wonder in his eyes, who looks so very unchanged despite lifetimes, who rises and calls him brother and Ignis and friend and CLAIMS him in a way the Clan Head cannot dispute. No one can dispute against Noctis, because he is still a Lucis Caelum and a king and to him, their chakra is pebbles in an ocean.

And for the first time in a long time, Ignis is happy. Ignis has hope.

...

Gladio

Gladiolus loves his new family, and he knows they love him back. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss his old life like a wound in his side. Iris’s presence makes it a bit better but also not, because war is cruel and no one cares that she is still so young (older than the other Clans children sent to the field, because Inuzuka treasure their puppies, but still far too YOUNG to the mind of a Shield and Crownsguard). He loves his canine partner and the Pack, he loves that they don’t really question his memories, how his personality has matured and changed since the incident that woke him up.

Even so...

Even so, the absence of his brothers is a bleeding wound in his heart, and when the Clan Head looks at him, Gladio knows the man can see that in his heart of hearts, Gladio is not part of their Pack. He is family, but he has another Pack, another Alpha he swore to a lifetime ago, and that loyalty still howls in his soul far stronger than even the ties of blood and Pack and love that binds him to the Inuzuka.

So perhaps that is why the Clan Head does not look as outraged or surprised as he could have been when Yoru finds him, when NOCTIS looks back at Gladio from an eerily familiar yet not face. That is why, while the Hyuga sputter in shock when Gladio hugs Ignis tight and spins him in a circle for joy, the Inuzuka just watch with comprehension dawning in their eyes. Gladio looks to his Clan Head and says he’s going with Yoru and there is not request for permission. Just a courtesy of announcement. Because THIS- this is his Pack, his Alpha, his Beta, his brothers and littermates. He will follow them above all.

And the Clan Head lets him go.

...

Prompto:

Prompto wants to know who he ticked off in his past life that had a say in the next, because he HAD to have ticked off someone. Why else would he have been reborn into a clan of LIVING HIVE PEOPLE???????

He thinks he distresses them- no, he knows he does, when he flinches from the clan techniques and hives, from the little insects and their pheromones that the Clan uses as essentially an insectoid, chakra-based texting system amongst themselves. He knows he stresses out his hive for a long time, flinching from the feel of them inside him, from the skitter of their legs and wings and the whisper of their tiny, simple little thoughts in his own when they talk to him.

It .... it’s bad for a while. A WHILE. Bad enough the Clan won’t let him fight (which is fine with him) but also bad enough he loses weight and can’t sleep from the hive buzzing buzzing buzzing under his skin from his distress toward them.

It’s his great great grandma that saves him, quite literally, because an Aburame that rejects the hive is an Aburame who dies, not by any malicious intent on the Clans’ part but just- biologically. Just like starving to death will kill him, rejecting his Hive will kill him too and he KNOWS that but he can’t just- turn off his fear.

Then one day Elder Maya, the oldest living Aburame, sends for him. He comes to her private house with shivering skin and jumping senses and the hyper-awareness of the things inside him buzzing buzzing buzzing trying to remove the source of his distress and making it worse because they WERE his distress-.

Elder Maya takes his shaking hands and leads him to her garden.

It’s- it’s beautiful. It’s so beautiful he could cry for his long lost camera of another life. There are colors everywhere, blues and greens, reds, pinks, whites, and mixed splashes of yellow and purple- flowers that stand tall, flowers that droop, flowers dangling from the vines growing up tree trunks.

And everywhere there were flowers, there were butterflies. Butterflies and ladybugs, the two insects he wasn’t completely creeped out by because they were so pretty and photogenic, and for a moment Prompto is so awed his shaking stops, the Hive inside him goes quiet. A butterfly flaps lazily over to him, a glorious thing with vivid blue wings the color of magic and black dots and swirls that remind him of fire. It settles on his hand and he doesn’t flinch from it like he does the kikachu of the clan, just stays quiet and watches it with a bit of awe.

“You are not scared of these ones,” Elder Maya hums.

“U-um ... no,” he whispers as he watches it, “they’re ... pretty. Cute. They don’t ... they don’t look like they’ll hurt me.” And that’s not really his issue with the Kikaichu, but he can’t explain a phobia to ninja, not well anyway.

“Good,” says his great great grandmother, but not with her lips, with the soft splash of impression-scent-sensation from the butterfly on his hand and he gapes as he realizes THIS is her hive. These ladybugs and butterflies are Elder Maya’s hive. He stares at her and she adjusts the dark glasses she wears, “I will give you some of mine. Why? So you can cultivate a new Hive that you will not be afraid of.”

And she does. And it’s CREEPY, but also ... kinda not? It’s ... it still freaks him out to have bugs under his skin, but these ones ... he knows these ones. He chose them, he hatched them, he raised them. They are beautiful and deadly and soft looking and can strip flesh from a target in seconds and he wishes he had a camera because it would be so cool to have butterflies that can pose on command.

It’s a rocky road, but his shaking stops, and his weight goes back to normal, and his sleep schedule returns, and all the Clan breathes a sigh of relief when they see Prompto ambling around, not flinching from the glittery blue butterflies flitting on his shoulders.

And it’s not like his old life, his brothers he misses so badly, but its kinda nice to never be alone. Wherever he goes, his Hive goes, and his new Queens are kinda ... bossy almost and its endearing in a creepy kinda way. The only thing that would make life better, make it perfect (other than to not need a Hive in the first place) would be to have his brothers again.

And then they go to the new village of Konoha, and he meets the famed and terrifying Yoru, who isn’t terrifying at all, but is instead old and tired and blue eyed, and a fish lover and when he smiles, crooked and shy at Prompto all his Hive SINGS under his skin because he KNOWS.

And suddenly the world is perfect again.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Her Majesty. || 9

Morphine.

Pervious Chapter || Chapter Eight.

Anastasia’s POV 

Growing up, my life wasn’t simple but it wasn’t exactly disastrous as it is now. Growing up, I would run through the gardens and fields, I’d love travelling through tunnels and secret passages, I’d enjoy the carriage rides and royal duties, now, I sort of despise them. 

I feel like life is on a downward spiral and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. There’s nothing I can really do to fix any of the situations that have arisen from the last few days. 

I haven’t been able to see Harry since we landed a few days ago, once my family got into the palace to get a few personal items, we were moved to Windsor Castle and Harry was taken to the emergency room. Matthew has done his best to keep me in the loop; Harry had surgery on his dislocated shoulder, and that’s as much as I was told. My father has us on strict lockdown, I’m not allowed to leave, even with security. For the most part, I’m not even allowed to roam the outside of the castle in the areas where the public eye can see me. I’ve had Oliver on my services, the poor fella is doing his best to learn the ropes as quickly as possible, but after the boat incident, he’s shaken up.

If I’m being honest, I am too. Oliver hid me down in the galley of the vessel, he shoved me into a small area and closed the door. I felt suffocated but I knew I had to stay tranquil. I could overhear footsteps and mumbled breaths before the scuffling of bodies caused me to hold my breath. I could detect Oliver in some sort of altercation, suddenly, a piercing gunshot silenced the altercation. I gasped and grabbed the gun Harry had given me, I wrapped my hands around it and began to silently pray, not only for my safety but for Oliver and everyone else’s. “Princess,” Oliver whispered before he reopened the door and crouched down to my level, “Hey, we need to get off the boat quickly, I’m going to ask you to close your eyes and I’ll carry you. You don’t need to see this.” Oliver softly informed, “I’ll tell you when you can open your eyes, but keep that gun in your hand, okay?” Oliver commanded, gesturing to the gun as my hands shook, “It’s okay, you know how to use it, right?” 

I nodded my head, abruptly realising that this is real. My life was truly in danger and I have to rely on Oliver to keep me safe. If I had my choice, I wouldn’t have him to be the one keeping me safe at this moment, I prefer if it was Harry, I know I can trust him. But, I have to leave my life in the hands of a stranger. I barely know him but I am left vulnerable and in his hands. “Okay, close your eyes, I’ll carry you out,” Oliver directed and I did just that before he picked me up and carried me out. 

I’m not sure what Oliver had to witness, I can only assume the gunshot was him killing his antagonist, but I’m grateful I didn’t have to observe the aftermath of it. I’m shaken up over it all and I’m not the one who had to fire the gun and cripple someone. 

I stroll down the bleak hallways with Oliver, administering small conversation in an attempt to pass some time, for the first time in a long time, I don’t have royal duties to tend to. I haven’t had to take calls or have meetings, I haven’t even had to reply to letters. My father has completely given me some time off. And as much as I appreciate it, I’m wholly bored without Harry. There’s only so many occasions I can wander the grounds with Oliver before I know he’s getting weary of me. 

I grin as Matthew rounds the corner and begins to make his way to us. Matthew glances at Oliver and nods, “Go watch the monitors for the east wing. I’ll take the Princess from here,” Matthew instructs, and Oliver immediately begins to walk off. 

Matthew watches Oliver walk away and round the corner before he beings to speak, “I don’t suppose you’ve found Harry yet, huh?” Matthew beams at me. 

I shake my head, “I don’t know where my father has hidden him,” I respond in all honesty. I have no clue where Harry is.. Since Harry’s surgery, for some reason, my father transferred Harry into Windsor. But to which section and room, I’m unaware of. Nobody has been able to tell me, the staff don’t know anything, my mother couldn’t give me any answers and Matthew has been in and out of the grounds trying to get things under control.

“Come with me,” Matthew directs, leading the way. 

We talk for the length of our journey, essentially discussing the events of what has occurred, what will happen and he also briefed me on the fact that at any given time, I can be put into an entire lockdown due to the high risk of an attack on the family. It’s scary to imagine that for some reason, the family is being targeted. I’m not sure what my father has done, but it seems as though he has done business with the wrong people. I don’t want to know the details at this point. My mother is beginning to feel the aftermath of everything, she has secured herself in her room for the last two days because, she too, has no understanding of what is transpiring. I don’t think she can wrap her head around everything either. She was fortunate that she didn’t chaperon the event on the boat. Part of me queries if she is getting ready to go into the shadows and turn against the royal duties she has. Her assistant has been handling everything, taking phone calls, responding to emails and letters, probably teamed up with my assistant as well. 

My mother is a strong-minded character, she is never truly silenced, she has nevermore before locked herself in her chambers and dismissed all duties, but whatever is happening at the moment is destroying her, it is destroying us. She has dealt with a lot when it comes to life as a Queen, she has been followed by the press, she has been scrutinised and dealt with a few haters, she has learnt many languages and always been by my father’s side no matter the cost. She makes it all look easy, being a Queen, but deep down, I know it has to be taking a toll on her by now. It is all taking a toll on my father, he still wants to step down as King and hand the crown to me in just a few months, but I don’t want it. I don’t want the strings that come with it, I don’t want the constant fears of having to look over my shoulder any more than what I already have to. 

This is not how it was meant to be, this is not what it is like in all the stories my parents told me. This is not how they told me it would be when they announced I would be taking over soon. 

This is not a fairytale. This is not a happy ending.

Matthew and I reach a door and he turns to me, “He won’t stay awake long, he’s getting groggy, I’ll be right here if you need me, okay?” 

I nod my head before Matthew unlocks the door and allows me into the room where Harry is. I step inside the relatively small room with white walls and gold-trimmed ceilings. There is a fireplace in the corner of the room and right in front of the bed there is a dresser that has a few candlesticks on it and a glass box, from afar, I can assume it is a jewellery box of some sort. Along the walls, there are various paintings. I am not sure what it is but Windsor has more paintings than I think I can count. 

I observe Harry in the bed, half up with pillows propped against his back and neck and a pillow under his left arm that is encompassed by a sling. Harry opens his eyes and gives me a meagre smile as I shuffle closer to him. “Hey,” he breathes out. 

“Hey, heard you got that morphine you asked for,” I smile, attempting to lighten the mood while I kiss his forehead. 

“Mhm,” he hums, “Jus’ enough to knock off the edge for a bit.” 

“How’s the pain?” I question, guilt tugging at me while he does his best to conceal his discomfort. 

He might be in a comfortable bed with godawful portraits staring at him and morphine at his request, but it doesn’t make me feel any better about the situation as a whole. 

“They still have me on morphine, so not bad. Your father has your doctor watching me. I don’t know why you don’t like her.” Harry answers with a smug grin. 

Whenever I have the doctor, she doesn’t give me pain meds, she tends to sit and watch me while hooking me up to Iv’s and taking my blood. Unlike him, I get a different treatment. Then again, I have yet to have an incident where I need strong pain meds. When I broke my ribs, she did put me on some pain meds but she made sure it was nothing strong.

I’m shocked my father has the private royal doctor looking after Harry, just as much as I’m surprised my father didn’t let Harry go back to his own private area at Buckingham, but instead made sure Harry was at Windsor with us. I don’t know why my father is being so generous, but I won’t challenge it. 

I playfully roll my eyes, “You just like the pain relief.” I respond, resting on the edge of the bed. Harry takes a breath and shifts some of the covers, revealing his arm before he reaches over with his right hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. 

Harry lifts his lips into a small smile, “I love you,” Harry sweetly breathes out while his thumb grazes circles on my hand.

“I love you, too. You worry me though.” I sigh. 

“Why?” 

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “You… you put your life on the line for me and Dad, you could have died.” 

“Jus’ a bad shoulder, Anna.” 

I shake my head. It wasn’t just a bad shoulder, he put his life on the line when he went back for my father while leaving me to get off the boat with Oliver. “It could have been worse. I think we should get married.” 

“We are getting married,” Harry tiredly smiles, drifting towards the ring on my necklace. “Hey, don’t cry, I’m fine.” Harry murmurs, noticing my eyes beginning to well up with tears that have been threatening to fall for days. I have kept myself together for the last few days, mainly because I don’t want anyone to see me breaking or to ask questions. After all, how am I meant to tell my parents, who have no clue about the relationship, that I am petrified of losing Harry? I am terrified of what is happening and the fact we are in danger. I am scared for us all. I never thought all the protocol and the hypothetical emergency situations would come true. 

I can’t help but worry and believe that things could have been a lot worse with Harry. Things nevertheless could be a lot worse. Harry still has to defend me and do his duty, we never know when something critical could transpire. 

“No, I want to get married soon. No waiting.” I inform Harry of my thoughts. 

I don’t want to wait and plan a long drawn out wedding, there is no need to have some lavish wedding and spend years planning it. All I need is him, all we need is to be happy and in love. That is all it takes.

I don’t even need the dress, all I require is him— to take me as my wife. 

We can get married, have a somewhat normal life together in the castle and ultimately have children, although, I am not quite sure I want my children to be subject to the royal mess that I have had to go through. The concept of children has always been iffy with me, part of me wants them but the other part doesn’t want them to grow up in this lifestyles. 

But, if I do not have children, who takes the crown? 

Which extended family member takes it? 

“Anna… darling, ” Harry begins, “I can’t have this talk right now.” 

“Oh..” I trail off, assuming he no longer desires to get married and is reconsidering everything. 

I don’t blame him for aching to revise his proposal and concept of marrying me. I wouldn’t want to marry in this life. His life will never be the same again once anyone discovers that we are married. He will invariably be followed by the media— he won’t just be a bodyguard— he won’t just be my husband. 

“No, no, I mean… Anna, I’m getting sleepy... I’m seeing double of you… I want to marry you,” Harry immediately reacts, reassuringly. 

“Can I stay here with you?” I softly challenge, not wanting to appear needy. 

It isn’t that I’m being needy, it’s more the thought of losing him doesn’t settle well with me, I was left in the dark for the first few hours he was at the hospital. Nobody told me much information and it pained me. It distressed me not knowing. If I’m here, I’ll know, I’ll be informed and I won’t be left in the dark. I know he is okay and recovering from surgery, but I don’t want to just leave him by himself. 

Harry shakes his head with heavy eyes, “I can’t.” 

“Why?” 

“Anna, I can’t let you stay with me. If-if something happens…” Harry takes a moment to take a few breaths, “I can’t protect you or get up quick enough.” 

“Matthew is right outside.” 

Harry shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I love you.” 

I heavily sigh but respect his wishes. I lean down and kiss his warm cheek, “I love you, too,” I whisper, smiling at him as he nods his head and closes his eyes. “Get some sleep, I will be back later.”

I unobtrusively step out of the room where I’m welcomed by Matthew. “He won’t let me stay with him.” 

Matthew nods his head before closing the door behind me and commencing to walk with me. “He’s groggy, Anna.” 

“But I don’t see why I can’t stay? You’re right here.” 

Matthew sighs, “If something happens, he doesn’t have the strength to get you to safety or to fight someone off.” 

“What could possibly happen? It is the middle of the day.” 

It is midday, if an attack on the family is going to happen, I believe it would be more logical if it was to occur at night. I would say the castle is moderately safe at this hour. 

“Princess, a lot of things. It’s for your safety.” 

Everything appears to always be about my safety, it is like the world revolves around me— but it doesn’t— there are other people in this world. “And what about his safety?” 

Matthew sighs and takes a moment of quietness, “Princess, he signed up for this. He knew his life could end up on the line. We do our best to make sure we are all safe, but you are the priority and so are your parents, not us.” Matthew tries to explain, but I don’t want to listen to it. 

I know that Harry signed up for this job, but it doesn’t mean he should be compromised. “He should be a priority, too. He’s going to be my husband.” 

“He’s the bodyguard right now until he’s the husband and no longer on the service, he can’t be the priority. It’s something you’ll need to take up with your father. It isn’t my decision. I can’t compromise you in order to protect Harry.” 

I roll my eyes and heavily sigh, attempting to understand Matthews point. Matthew isn’t in a position to make decisions when it comes to me and Harry, at the end of the day, I am the one Matthew has a responsibility to protect. He is the head of security, as much as I am Harry’s responsibility, if something goes wrong, it will all turn out to be Matthews fault, he is the head, he has the overall say and power when it comes to what Harry and Oliver do.  “Do you think you could help pull off a wedding without anyone knowing?” I question, curious to whether he can help me.

“I swear you are determined to get me fired,” Matthew laughs, “For you and Harry, I’ll do my best. What do you have in mind?” 

I lift my shoulders into a shrug, “I don’t know, but I want to marry him as soon as I can.” 

“A shotgun wedding… you know that doesn’t look good, right?” 

“What?” 

“Princess, a shotgun wedding makes people think you’re pregnant.” 

I shake my head instantly. “I’m not… and nobody will know, it’s a private wedding for just me and him. You can be the witness and make sure nobody sees.” 

Matthew side-eyes me as we continue to walk the tranquil and aged hallways. “Is Harry onboard about this?” 

“Uh…” I trail off, “Well… maybe? He’s a bit groggy and said we should have this conversation when he’s feeling a bit better.” 

“Mhm, I can see why,” Matthew laughs. “Not a conversation to have while on pain meds and in and out of sleep.” … “When he agrees to it, I will see what I can do. Until then, your assistant wants you, I will take her to you before I have to go check the systems, if you need me, you call me, okay?” 

I nod my head in agreement. 

The most salutary thing about Matthew is that he is sort of like a second Dad. If I ever need him and I can’t get ahold of Harry, a simple call or text and Matthew will be at my side as soon as he can, it doesn’t matter what time of day it is, he will be there. 

Harry’s POV 

I gradually come to terms with the fact that someone is speaking. I can’t entirely hear the words he is saying, I don’t understand them. It takes me a moment to adequately open my eyes and recognise the voice that echos the once peaceful room. 

The king relaxes on a chair with his back to me, his hand pressed to his ear. I do my best to adjust my focus, a little confused as to why he’s talking to himself, but then I realize. He’s on the phone. 

“No, this eye for an eye ends now. I’ve paid my debts, you don’t get my daughter…. NO! You listen to me, you piece of shit, don’t come near my family. You have gotten the money you wanted, you got some of the assets, I am not giving you any more. You don’t deserve them and your son doesn’t deserve to be a royal or King. I don’t know where you evil wife is, but if she comes anywhere near my family, I will make sure my security team doesn’t let her leave with her life” The king is stern as he speaks to whoever is on the other end of the phone, I can only assume it is the Ace’s family he is talking to. 

I am not sure why he doesn’t have Matthew deal with them, I am sure that there is a way to have them silenced. If I had a say, I would have their heads, mainly because they are endangering Anastasia. Unfotiently, I do not get a say, I do not get to make the commands, all I can do is listen to what I am told. If the King doesn’t want us to deal with them, there is nothing I can do. “No, I did everything I could; I changed the will and testimony as you insisted, there is nothing more I can do. If you want the wedding, get your son to sweep my daughter off her feet, simple. Don’t think I forgot that he is the reason she broke her ribs. I ought to have had Harry kill him right there and then for that stunt.” 

Great, they’re nevertheless attempting to marry Anna off to that prick of a prince to accommodate the fact that his family saved the Queen. If someone saved Anastasia from dying, I would be eternally grateful, but I would be damned if I was to let some ignorant want-to-be sit there and threaten me and my family. This eye for an eye wouldn’t fly for me, I would be putting my foot down—— more so, I would be pulling the trigger on whoever was threatening my family. The king is a powerful man who knows various people, surely there is a way to settle this. There is no way this family has better ties than the King of England. 

“Oh, please? What more can you do to me? I have the top security there is, you cannot get past them….. NO! You listen to me, I don’t care that you’re part of the mafia or have mafia affiliations, the only person who will be swimming with the fish will be you, I will make sure they drown you with concrete on your feet, do you understand me? You as much look at Anna the wrong way and I will have you killed. This is over.” The King’s voice booms like thunder causing me to wince and hold my hand to my head. 

Fuck, I did not need a loud voice to ring through my ears.

The King turns to face me as I move amongst the sheets, he hangs up the phone and steps closer to where I rest. I blink at him a few times, striving to wrap my head around what he has said. I only wish I got the rest of the conversation and woke up sooner. “How are you feeling? How’s the pain?” the King challenges as he clears his throat, perhaps hoping I didn’t hear his phone call.

“Like shit,” I respond honestly, “I have a horrible headache and I’ve had pain for a while, just in and out of sleep from it.” 

“When was the last time the doctor was in here?” 

“Hours ago, I think this morning?” 

I’m not quite sure what time it is now, all I know is my head feels as though I have someone hitting it with a brick, it almost takes the pain away from my shoulder. 

The King nods his head and starts to type on his phone, “The Doctor will be back up here in a few minutes.” 

“Sir, where is Anastasia?” I softly question. 

The king stares at me and raises a brow, “I uh— I actually don’t know,” he cocks his head to the side, “Why?” 

“I’m not on her service, jus’ making sure she has someone watching her.” 

I might be stuck in bed and in pain, but I want to make sure she is still being cared for and looked out for, I know Matthew can be trusted, as for Oliver… He is called Eageltte for a reason, he is the baby in training.

The King nods his head, “I will get ahold of her.”

♔♔♔

Anastasia begged me to let her stay with me for the evening, once she started crying again, I couldn’t tell her ‘No’. I can’t sit and let her cry, the minute she has tears I become putty in her hands. I can’t do it. That is the easiest way for her to win an argument with me, I cave once she cries, every single time. 

I felt bad for her, tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes as she explained to me that she hadn’t been sleeping the last few nights, she has been stressed and I gather she is still shocked from what has happened in the last few weeks. From Henry pulling his stunts to what happened on the boat, I don’t blame her for not wanting to fall asleep alone. I don’t blame her for not wanting to fall asleep without myself or Matthew standing at her door on guard. 

Unfortunately, she doesn’t feel safe anymore unless I or Matthew are around. There was once a time she would request me to give her time to herself without being observed because she hated all the security, now she is begging me not to make her go to her room. 

Against my better judgment, I let her stay. I allowed her to crawl into bed with me on the conditions that Matthew stayed outside. The last thing either of us needs is for anyone to walk in and see us. Whether it be the doctor or the King himself. I can’t trust that he won’t try to use my room as another private call area. 

I’ve been in and out of sleep, mustering enough energy to check to make sure she is still asleep beside me before falling back asleep. By the time I manage to sit up and glance at her, I am about ready to knock back out again. With each time I wake up, she has shuffled closer to me, I don’t mind, I find it endearing. I will never complain about her wanting to be close to me in the bed, I will never complain that during the night she finds ways to place her hand on me. I will always do my best to make her feel safe and protected with me, and I will do my best to make sure that she has what she needs in this life. I will make sure she has the husband that she needs and merits, someone to be there for her, to support her. She deserves the world and I will do what I can do to make sure she has the world. I love her with every being in me; at the risk of seeming cliche, I love her and intend to love her until my last breath. She truly is everything to me, she is the daydreams of all daydreams. 

I wake up immediately as I discover the door creak open, I force myself up immediately and reach to the side table where my pistol is, “Don’t shoot, it is me,” Matthew powerfully whispers, “Get her up and in the tunnels, the alarm has been pulled,” Matthew directs, and my heart rapidly begins to race. 

I swear at this point, there is not a moment where something isn’t happening.

“Anna, Anna, darling,” I mildly brush Anastasia’s arm, drawing her from her sleep without causing her to panic.  

The last thing I need is for her to panic, she already has enough trouble sleeping as it is. The poor girl doesn’t need to be woken up in a horror of a stir. 

Anastasia sighs and groggily glances at me, “We need to get in the tunnels, get up,” I instruct, forcing her up and out of bed without explanations. “Matthew take her,” I command, grappling to get up quick enough as she grabs a blanket and wraps it around her. 

Anastasia shakes her head, “I’m not going without him.” 

“Now is not the time to be stubborn, Anna,” I mutter, taking a deep breath and pulling myself to my feet, “Matthew, pull that mirror and dresser, it’s the hidden opening,” I gesture towards the gold-trimmed mirror and dresser that I have had the privilege to stare at a few times while in and out of sleep. 

“Fuck, Harry, it’s stuck,” Matthew grunts.

I step around Anna, “Anna, baby, move for a second,” I gesture for her to step away, using my good arm to help Matthew with pulling the secret compartment open, “This is why I didn’t want her staying with me,” I grunt, not too pleased with the fact that if she had of stayed in her place, she would already be safe and sound in the tunnels. “Fucking hell,” I murmur, using all the strength I have to get the passage open a little further. 

“This will have to do, we can fit,” Matthew instructs. 

I glance towards Anastaisa and she steps closer to me. I place my pistol in the waistband of my sweatpants and she slips her hand with my own, “Go, I’m right behind you,” I assure her, “And Matthew is behind me, we are fine,” I continue, supporting her through the passage before she freezes at the vibration of Matthew closing the passage door behind us.

“Harry—” 

“It’s okay, just the door. Here, I’ll go first, it is dark and you’re already startled,” I benevolently tug her behind me and I take the lead. 

I am familiar with the tunnels at Buckingham, Windsor not so much, we are infrequently here and we never utilise these tunnels, we have never needed to, not to mention, the tunnels are remarkably old and dusty.  If I had to decide which tunnels I would prefer to be escorting through, it would be Buckingham’s, at least I know the tunnels there are clean. There is no telling what is down in this chilly, sullen and old passage. 

I can tell these tunnels haven’t been accompanied in years, there are cobwebs everywhere, broken stones and rodents scurrying around. “Harry, this place gives me the heebie jeebies,” Anastasia whispers, gently pulling back on my arm. 

I nod my head and turn to her, “I know, sweetheart, I know,” I respond. 

There is something very unsettling and eerie about the tunnels we are walking through. I can’t quite put my finger down on it, but there is something not right.

The castle started to be built in 1070 and it took sixteen years before it was complete. Over the years, many King and Queens have adjusted the structures and design, for the most part keeping the stone foundations. The castle wasn’t built to be of a Royals residence, it was built specifically for a fortress, and for the most part, it has done exactly that. Windsor Castle has been in the royal family for almost 1,000 years and 39 monarchs have graced its halls, I am not surprised the tunnels are starting to decompose and are in horrid condition. This castle is meant to be one of the safest castles, after all, it has survived the bombings of World War II. 

With the fact that St. George’s Chapel is the burial place to deceased monarchs and not all of them were buried at peace, some were beheaded, some poisoned, some killed by natural causes… I wouldn’t be surprised if this castle and the tunnels were haunted. Perhaps that is the eerie feeling that wraps around us as we walk. 

I can’t help but feel as though we are being watched, and I know Anastasia feels the same way. 

Matthew takes my attention from focusing on walking forward with the little light that we have with the flashlight on our phones. “Harry, do you know where you’re going?” Matthew questions.

“Honestly, no. We’ve never used these tunnels.” 

“Thought you had a photographic memory?” Matthew mutters.  

I stop in my tracks and turn to face Anna and Matthew, “All due respect, Matthew, I’m coming off a morphine-induced sleep the king put me in, we’re lucky I’m walking.” 

Anastasia heavily sighs as she let’s go of my hand and puts a little space between us, “I can lead the way, I used to run around these when I was younger.” 

I glance towards Anna and shake my head, “No, we can’t see a thing, the last thing we need is for a surprise attack with you in front.” I respond and she looks towards Matthew for his response, “Don’t look at him, I made the decision that it was safest for you to be in the middle.”

Anastasia raises a brow and I know by the ways her eyes stare at me that she is far from amused by my comment. I don’t tend to be dominant too much with her, I try to let Matthew make the decisions so that it doesn’t cause arguments with her and I. “Says the one who is in front and has a slow reaction time.” 

“Anastasia—“

“Harry,” she cuts me off, “You two don’t have a clue where we are, that’s unsettling.” 

“And you know where we are, Princess?” I question, adjusting the sling as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Don’t talk to me like a Princess, you know I hate it.” 

“And you know I hate when you make my job harder than it needs to be, so let me and Matthew figure it out.” 

“You’re being an asshole.” 

“Yeah, well, I have bigger things to worry about than you calling me an asshole.” 

I don’t want to be an asshole to her, it is not my intentions, but right now, I need to figure out how to get her out of the tunnels securely and in one piece. Matthew and I are both compromised, he doesn’t know these tunnels, and I can only remember parts of the map that I glanced at weeks ago while attempting to uncover a map to the castle in Ireland. 

“Are you two done bickering? At any moment we could get attacked,” Matthew questions with his arms crossed over his chest. 

I nod my head, “We came in on the far west side, very back corner of the manor, we took a right because there were too many rocks closing off the closest exit on the left which would have to lead us under the church and out into the river street car park,” I begin to retrace our steps, “Which means, we’ve been walking for around fifteen minutes which puts us around about near the kitchen. Which implies we should be travelling towards East Terrace Lawn and will come out at Queen Victoria’s walk.” I notify Matthew, attempting to retrieve the map of how Windsor is set up, but my thoughts are still a little hazy. 

“There’s another entry and exit, Harry,” Anastasia familiarises me, “It’s this way.” She motions to the right where there’s a small hole in the wall. 

There is no way I want her following a hole in the wall, and there is no way I want to manoeuvre my way through the small hole. 

I shake my head, “There were only two on the map.” 

Anastasia rolls her eyes at me and huffs, “I’m going this way.” 

“Anna, you’re going the wrong way, can’t you just listen to us?” 

Anna disregards me and manages her way through the space, prompting me to glare towards Matthew. “My future wife is highly fucking stubborn.” 

“Are you going to go after her?” He asks, unsure of what to do. 

It is a fine line between us bickering as a couple and bickering as a Princess and a security guard. 

I shake my head, “I need a minute,” I respond, resting against the wall, “She won’t walk too far without us, she’s partially scared of the dark still.” 

Anastasia didn’t want to sleep without me, I highly doubt she will walk too far in the dark on her own. She wants to prove a point, I understand, but sometimes she needs to just listen to us, we know what we are doing, we were hired in these positions because we are damn good at our jobs. Up until now, I have never questioned our ability to keep her safe.

“She’s right though, it’s another exit.” 

I close my eyes and take deep breaths, my shoulder throbbing with pain. “Near the dungeons,” I nod, “But it’s dangerous to walk through, it leads out to the River Thames, and I don’t know about you but I’m in no position to swim for my life again,” I respond, acknowledging that Anastasia is correct, there’s a hidden tunnel that isn’t on the maps, but it doesn’t mean it’s the most trustworthy option, in fact, I’d say it’s the most dangerous. “It is cold, I don’t need her swimming in cold water either.”

“Fuck me,” I huff, adjusting my shoulder in my sling. “Matthew, call her back, if I do it, she’ll walk further just out of spite,” I command, not wanting Anna to wander any further towards the River exit. I don’t want to have to swim after her because of her being stubborn and I also don’t know what is down that tunnel. For all we know, the walls’ could cave in.

At the moment Matthew goes to open his mouth, a high pitched scream sends chills down my back. My eyes widen and I accelerate off the wall immediately, forcing my way through the hole. 

[drshebloggo]

Ask box: JUSTICE FOR LANE KIM, a breakdown.

Anonymous asked: Do you know why Lane disappeared from the show as Rory's best friend over time? She appeared every now and then, yeah, but it has always bothered me that she slowly faded from being Rory's best friend to nobody... am I remembering things wrong?

I do not know! The Palladinos make decisions that sometimes are simply beyond my comprehension.

It’s been awhile since I watched Gilmore Girls in its entirety (and I kind of selectively ignore a lot in the last two, three seasons) but I don’t think you’re remembering things wrong. I will say, though, that the show faced a challenge with all of the Stars Hollow supporting ensemble when Rory went off to college. It’s these kind of problem-making focus shifts that I find really interesting, and they are UBIQUITOUS across teen/high school shows when a character or ensemble graduates.

Most of them that I can think of are done poorly, maybe with the exception of Friday Night Lights. But in defense of these shows, it’s HARD. How do you embrace a fundamental shift in the entire premise of your show? How do you deal with the new geographies of this shift, and the way they ripple into beloved character dynamics? How do you evolve a character through an engaging and meaningful arc without abandoning the foundation on which they were built? And how do you still capture your audience’s attention when there’s a risk that you’re leaving behind the magic that captivated them in the first place? IT’S HARD.

So in the case of Gilmore Girls, Rory at Yale is the shift that moves the show into a new paradigm, and it’s a big one. She’s separated from Stars Hollow and slowly beginning her emancipation from Lorelai, which is, on principle, painful for the audience because it’s directly against the show’s premise. (It’s no coincidence that the Palladinos starts seriously building the Luke-and-Lorelai-of-it-all once Rory’s away at college. Give that empty-nester some new story!)

Of course, Lane is right behind Lorelai in the list of People in Stars Hollow that Rory is Leaving Behind. How is Lane supposed to stay a part of Rory’s story when Rory is in a new context, and Lane is not? But, truth be told, Lane was ALREADY in this role. In seasons 1-3, LANE, not Lorelai, was #1 on the list of People in Stars Hollow that Rory is Leaving Behind. Ultimately Gilmore Girls is a story of two worlds, and Rory going to Chilton begins her passage across the into the New (Old, with Baggage) World. Lane is already being left behind, to some degree, and in seasons 1-3, there’s still room in the show’s universe to address those issues and give Lane some good storylines of her own, especially in conjunction with Rory.

So it’s possible that the issue is not necessarily one of screentime or setting. Whenever I hear the rebel cry of JUSTICE FOR LANE KIM resound in my heart chambers, I mostly think of the kinds of storylines that befell her in the later seasons, not simply in their detachment from Rory. Heeding her mom’s insistence that she attend Seventh Day Adventist college. Fracturing her relationship with her mom in order to pursue her dreams. Getting kicked out of her home. Living with her two boy bandmates who are very stupid and very messy. Never really getting the band off the ground. Her first sexual experience being terrible. Her first sexual experience being terrible AND yielding a pregnancy with TWINS. Why do the Palladinos hate Lane Kim!!! The only thing I wholeheartedly love about Lane’s later storylines is Luke hiring her to work at the diner and then being completely overwhelmed by her sheer competence.

It’s probably important to note that the mere construction of Lane Kim’s character is a bit tragic. The Palladinos are VERY good at building conflict and tension into what seems like simple character descriptions. Here’s this girl that loves rock music to an obsessive, encyclopedic level, wants to play drums in a band, and she’s from a strict religious household where she can’t express any of that. The description itself inherently means that things are going to blow up for Lane at some point. That’s okay, to some degree - that’s conflict, that’s drama, that’s good story.

So if we look at Lane’s arc pre-blow-up, and post-blow-up, the satisfying thing would be for Lane to experience some kind of happiness or success living unstifled in her dreams, to offset the trauma that her family relationships are ruined (at least for the time being). But the Palladinos don’t even do that! It’s encapsulated in the incident that tears apart Lane’s relationship with her mom: she goes to play at CBGB, her mom finds out and kicks her out, and the band doesn’t even get to go on!! The Palladinos love PAIN.

And okay, fine, there’s still some defense that that is well-designed drama and story. (And Lane and her mom do reconcile eventually, and it was at least very affecting, from my memory.) I guess you could argue that Lane IS happy with how things turned out after the lifelong lie she’s lived completely unravels and she’s able to just exist, unguarded. But also... the Palladinos wrote her that way??? And regardless, for me, the issues arise more down the line with Lane essentially staying in Stars Hollow. Wouldn’t unshackling herself from the yoke of her mother mean that she’s free to pursue her dreams? And wouldn’t pursuing her dreams necessitate her to ALSO leave Stars Hollow, like Rory herself? Would she not try to scrape together money to move with the band to New York City and hit the big time? (Bear in mind, I have no idea how the music industry works.)

Ultimately, Lane’s story in the later seasons puts the writers in a Catch-22. If she leaves Stars Hollow and goes somewhere else to pursue her dreams, she’s almost certainly written off the show. She’s a supporting character, and they can’t open up a new world beyond Stars Hollow and New Haven, just for her. On the other hand, if she stays in Stars Hollow, in keeping with the geographies of the universe, she stays on the show, and just... gets really disappointing storylines. I’d be inclined to keep giving Keiko Agena a paycheck. 

(Now, the fact that WB threw money at a backdoor pilot for Jess Mariano to go to California and open up a new world for a weakly-premised spin-off, and did no such thing for Lane Kim, is some bullshit. Literally “moving to the big city to live a dream” is SUCH a well-worn trope that all the storylines are essentially handed to them, and it’s almost inherently refreshed because Lane is a Korean-American woman and not a brooding white guy or a quirky white lady. You FOOLS, you could’ve made that show with your EYES CLOSED.)

Anyways.

I’m going to meander my way further off the main point for a moment to kick up some dust on JUSTICE FOR RORY GILMORE as well. When you write ten paragraphs lamenting Lane Kim’s eternal relegation to supporting role, it’s hard not to be cranky about affording world-opening and story-building for a main character instead. (Spin-off Jess very much deserves the crank, though.) But, frankly, the unyielding walls that the Palladinos built to construct their very effective Two-World Universe don’t do a lot of favors for Rory Gilmore either, in the end.

Basically, this construct of Stars Hollow ensemble and New Haven future means that Rory is the only one who will “get out” of Stars Hollow, because she is structurally decreed to do so. It’s the massive conflict that the Palladinos smartly built into their little generational premise: Lorelai fled her parents’ world, and Rory will slowly be lured back into it. Pain ensues. This is good drama. This is good story. This is story that will last seven seasons and six-hour revival.

But it also inadvertently makes Rory the Chosen One, in a story that doesn’t need one. This is not Joseph Campbell’s Hero with a Thousand Faces, and I’d like to believe that even Paris and Rory wouldn’t want it to be, much as they love the Power of Myth. Lorelai divests her entire life into Rory’s success; the town of Stars Hollow wants Rory to spirit out of their small town and Be Great; Rory’s grandparents expect her to follow in Richard’s footsteps and also carry out their orphaned dreams for Lorelai. And then the Palladinos choose little things that further this: Lane doesn’t ever leave Stars Hollow; Paris doesn’t get into Harvard but Rory does; Luke interrogates any boy that comes near Rory because no one is good enough. (I confess, I’m charmed into forgiving the last one.)

It’s much too much to put onto one character and leave unaddressed!!! It’s also why some audience members just really hate Rory, in a really unfortunate knife-twist on an otherwise-winsome main character. They hate the unwillingness of the narrative to acknowledge this very obvious dark and specific underside to Rory’s specialness, and the unwillingness of people within the narrative to name this very obvious dark and specific underside about Rory. But to paraphrase Jessica Rabbit: she’s just DRAWN THAT WAY!

Rory’s storylines never really confront the idea that she has had FAR too many unrealistic expectations put on her by literally everyone that’s ever existed in her life, and what it might mean if she doesn’t live up to them. What does it mean if she’s not Christiane Amanpour? What does it mean if she’s scared of disappointing people? What does it mean if she’s trying to live up to other people’s standards rather than examining what she really wants?

The Palladinos completely ignore this, and simultaneously give Rory multiple meltdowns (cheating with Dean, being cowed by Mitchum Huntzberger, stealing a boat, quitting Yale, an aimless/struggling career) and they never QUITE dig into the complete dark and specific issue at the core of Rory’s character construction... which just exacerbates the Rory hate. Rory has no self-awareness; the writers give her no self-awareness; we go in circles, and every few years there’s a slew of thinkpieces about how selfish and awful Rory is.

What makes it worse is that those questions outlined above are essentially applicable for two other women on the show: Lane Kim, and Lorelai Gilmore II, herself. Lane, like Rory, doesn’t quite bust through and answer them wholly. Lorelai, however, comes into the show having already answered them, years before, when she was a headstrong and tenacious teenager. The idea that neither Rory, her actual daughter, nor Lane, her spiritual inheritor of Parental Disapproval, are ever able to grapple with those concepts in a real way, and blossom into self-defined adulthood the way that Lorelai did is maybe the bottom line on where Gilmore Girls went “wrong.” Lorelai’s legacy is not that she’s hyperverbal, loves junk food, and got pregnant young. It’s that she rejected the expectations of her forebearers and carved out a place in the world for herself by her own definition, for better or for worse. It’s why Lorelai comes out of the narrative like a Super Mom, when in fact she’s still just as deeply flawed as Emily or Rory, and why Stars Hollow is overall magical and cherished despite it serving as a small-town hometown for Rory to leave behind. And it’s why A Year in the Life was SO satisfying for Emily Gilmore, because she proved it’s never too late to answer those questions and break through to the other side. Perhaps we’ll get enough revivals to see the same happen for Rory, and for Lane.

But enough dust about Rory. I think, after all this nitpicking, there were two options for the best way to have handled Lane Kim after Rory went off to college:

1. Give her a backdoor pilot and spinoff to Band Dreams NYC. Which, of course, was not in the Palladinos’ control, so, y’know, fine.

2. Keep Lane in Stars Hollow and give her a chance to answer those questions about self-definition and live out a few years of Lorelai-like hard-but-happy independence (and better sex) before saddling her with Zach and two babies (if you MUST). Bonus points if she moves in with Lorelai and they bond over being fundamentally disappointing to your parents and also missing Rory. A very good obvious choice.

Secret option 3. Just let Lane move to New Haven and live with Rory and Paris off-campus, and give me the goddamn roommate comedy of my dreams. Honestly this is what they should’ve done. Forget everything I said. This is my answer.

Tiny footnote: I cannot BELIEVE, that after twenty years, I am just now realizing how on-the-nose it is that Lorelai escaped from the clutches of New Haven and started a new life for herself at a place called INDEPENDENCE INN. Truly, it was right there in front of me and I didn’t even notice. This oversight might weaken the integrity of the thousand-paragraph essay I rattled off above...

[allie1804-fan]

A Doorway is Opened (Chapter 1)

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Some time in the Autumn of 2019

 “Hey Hannah, great to see you”

 “You too”

 “Are you OK? You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

 “Just nervous I guess” Hannah laughed “Silly really after the book tour and interview, you’d think I’d have gotten used to it!”

 “Well this is Keanu Reeves we’re talking about – he’s enough to make even an old pro like me catch my breath! Come on” said Ella, “let’s get this meeting started”

 Ella was Hannah Johnson’s publisher and Hannah had written a book for which Keanu Reeves’ production company, Company Films, was interested in buying the rights. The book chronicled a couple’s journey to having a family through infertility to having their first son followed by three miscarriages before a second son finally arrived. They were due to meet with the actor himself and his partner Stephen Hamel that morning to talk more about a possible deal.

As it turned out, there was no need for nerves. The minute Keanu arrived and introduced himself, he put everyone at their ease. His focus on the work and his enthusiasm for it took the attention off him plus he seemed a little shy himself.

 The first thing he’d said on shaking Hannah’s hand was “Hi I’m Keanu,  I really loved your book, I can’t wait to talk to you about it!”

 “Thanks, it’s an honour to meet you. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long time”

 At this, a flush rose up, starting from Keanu’s neck and pretty soon turning his face quite a bright pink as he softly muttered his thanks.

 “First thing you learn about Keanu” Stephen joked, “The man cannot take a complement”

 They all laughed including Keanu who covered his mouth with his hand before looking down at his feet.

 “All right, shall we get this meeting started” he said.

 “Can we start with the origins of the story, how much if it is autobiographical? It’s so beautifully raw …..”

 Now it was Hannah’s turn to blush.

 “Thanks, well yes it is largely auto-biographical. I did research too and changed some of the details but it’s essentially my family’s story”

“Wow, I’m sorry you went through all that” Keanu said sincerely. “You did a great job with the pain but also the anger and err, the err”

 “The nasty side?”

 “Yeah I guess” he replied looking a tad embarrassed

 “infertility, baby-loss – it tends to bring out the less balanced side of one’s persoality” Hannah sighed. My husband often referred to it as the dark years!”

 “I can imagine” Keanu said softly and the room went quiet. Everyone knew what was on Keanu’s mind. Even 20 years on, everyone remembered the loss of his daughter to stillbirth.

 “Look don’t worry, I’m not offended” Hannah rushed to reassure him. “I wanted to show the full experience, the light and the dark.”

 The conversation thankfully turned to some of the lighter moments  - even infertility treatment can have some comedy in it after all.

 “I’d have loved to have played the husband but I think I’m too old now unless some of the details about the couple’s ages were altered. Do you have a view on that?”

 “Err well I’ve not really thought too much about it, it came as a surprise that anyone was interested in turning it into a film if I’m honest”

 Hannah could see out of the corner of her eye that Ella was rolling her eyes skyward at this since it didn’t exactly make it seem like the book rights were in demand! Keanu picked up on it and smiled catching Hannah’s eye who blushed and looked down at her hands before adding:

 “I guess the only impact could be on the sense of exclusion that comes from not being part of the club, you know. not having a child at all when everyone else does, not completing your family when everyone else has. That kind of relies on the friendship circle also being at that stage and driving that sense of exclusion. But there are many people who start later or where the husband is slightly older so I don’t see necessarily why it couldn’t work as people tend to be drawn to make friends with others who are at the same stage of life regardless of age.

 “Ok, well if we could make it work, do you think your husband would be willing to talk to me about his perspective?”

 As Ella drew in a sharp breath, Keanu knew he’d said something wrong and looked to Hannah who was momentarily speechless.

 “Erm, sadly no, you’ll have to rely on me for that ….. errr, Mark died, 18 months ago.

 “Oh god!, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, shit”

 “Don’t worry, please don’t worry, it’s not like that fact is all over the back cover. The book was published before his death and we didn’t update the bio with the 2nd edition, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for” she reassured him.

 “Thanks” Keanu said “well even if we can’t make that casting work, I’d still like our company to bring the story to a cinema audience. Would you be interested in writing the screenplay?”

 “Gosh, again that’s something I hadn’t anticipated … but it could be a possibility. Can I have time to  think about it?”

“Sure, I mean we have a roster of writers we can call upon  - I think even if you decide it’s not for you, we’d still want you to consult, would that be OK?”

 “Absolutely”

 The talk finally turned to finances and both Keanu and Hannah held back from the conversation until the meeting drew to a close. As they packed away their papers, Keanu asked Hannah if she’d be free to join him for coffee at the shop across the street from the offices.

 “It’s the least I can do after being so crass earlier”

 “You weren’t crass and you don’t have to do that! Not at all. Anyway wouldn’t you get mobbed out there in public at a coffee shop?”

 “Not at all, I can go about my business day to day as a private citizen - people tend to give me space if they can see I’m busy and especially when I have company – in fact you’d be acting as my personal bodyguard”

 Over at the coffee shop they settled into the booth with their coffees. Keanu encouraged Hannah to have a stab at writing the screenplay.

 “I mean, I bet you didn’t think you could write a novel before and then you did!”

 “OK, OK, I take your point” she laughed. “If I do, would you be willing to look at a first draft?”

“Of course, it would be my pleasure”

They chatted some more. Keanu wanted to see the boys who’d brought such joy to her life. Hannah shared some pictures – the ‘boys’ were now 21 and 16 years old.

“They’re handsome fellows, I can see your eyes in the older one. Do they favour you more or their dad?”

“Their Dad more, especially Josh. He’s the younger one”

“Right - that must be, a mixed blessing I guess”

“Yeah, yeah, yes is it can be. Actually Toby sounds just like him so when he comes home and says “hello” it can throw me for a loop!”

“Wow, I can’t imagine. I’ve never lost anyone that close, I mean where I lived with the person and had that kind of constant reminder of their absence…. unless you count my Dad”

“Your dad died?”

“Well, yeah actually but that was more recent, I meant when I was young, he left. We had been estranged for a long time by the time he died”

“I’m sorry – I’m glad my kids didn’t have that loss – it almost seems more cruel than death, that  he chose to leave I mean” Hannah checked herself  “sorry, sorry – we seem to be making a habit of putting our feet in it don’t we?”

Keanu laughed “no, no, I can see exactly what you mean – and don’t worry, no hard feelings”

Soon after this exchange, they each needed to leave so phone numbers were shared and Hannah agreed to contact him when she had some scenes to share.

Over the next 3 months, Hannah met Keanu in that same coffee shop every couple of weeks or so as she worked on her ideas for the screenplay.  The theme she liked best was that of closed and open worlds.  As she’d navigated infertility and baby-loss, at each stage there had been a sense of being welcomed into a world and then excluded from the next natural place. She hoped a director could capture that sense of being trapped and unable to move forwards somehow.

In their conversations she also tried to explain as best she could the different perspectives of the many people directly and indirectly involved. There was her husband who had wanted to keep the troubles they had in perspective and, especially when they had their miscarriages, to look to the future. Whilst Hannah had needed to wallow in the grief of their first loss in particular, he’d not felt that loss so much. She understood that for her, the future would have looked much different day to day with a new baby. She would have been taking her eldest to kindergarten with a new-born in tow. Yes, he would have been a dad of two but would still be going to work day to day as usual. Her work colleagues had sent her flowers after that miscarriage and he’d been angry. “why are they sending you flowers, nobody died” he’d yelled.    They’d argued after that, the difference in their perspective magnified. But in the long term she’d understood his desire to ‘fix’ things.  She’d been through grief before when her dad had died when she was just 16. She understood the need to wallow and let the grief breathe. His desire to move on felt like an attempt to stifle that but she understood the emotions behind it.

Then there were in-laws also willing things to be normal, not wanting to face the pain, telling her that she should be grateful to have her eldest and focus on him. Hearing that from people who already had 2 or 3 kids and no infertility was a bitter pill to swallow – you only really ‘get it’ if you’ve been there too after all.

He was a good listener and obviously enjoyed the process of empathising  and learning about how other people processed these traumas.

By the end of the year the screenplay was really taking shape but in January their FTF meetings had to stop as Keanu had to go to San Francisco for the Matrix 4 Shoot. They had one more coffee shop meeting in early March before he went to Berlin but otherwise, all connection was via e mail and FaceTime as they were either separated by miles or by the Corona Virus lockdown.  Through the months, their conversations and correspondence helped a close friendship to grow. Hannah felt the clouds of grief lifting and recognised Keanu’s part in that for her due to having the screenplay to focus on and his friendship.

Chapter 2

[blacknovelist]

sup ok here’s the promised details on uhhhhhh All for One in @guardianlioness​‘s and I’s Ageswap Mess, formed by collaborative headcanon jamming on discord and then roughly paraphrased via a run thru the unfortunate Quadruple Lengthening Filter that’s built into my brain bc I’m incapable of being brief.

(something of an expansion on this post and this ask. Nooooot spoiler free, actually pretty spoilers, idk, will pop it under a readmore bc who knows how long I’m gonna go on also)

ALSO!! I can’t at u but @randommly-passing-mia u asked forever ago about Toshinori and AfO’s relationship in this AU and i answered what I could then but I’m pleased to announce this goes more into that bc I knew Very Little back then. :)

So, All for One! Now, I feel it appropriate to note that the previous post I made regarding the history of OfA in Ageswap, as well as just about everything I’ve posted abt AfO and OfA for Ageswap (except for the linked ask above, obv) was made before the arc with the League of Villains and Shigaraki’s backstory all came out. Now that we’ve got some of those contexts, we can go a little further in fleshing everything else out, which we did, a little, today.

Pls keep in mind that Ageswap’s goal is not and never has been to make a direct 1:1 translation of adults to kids and vice versa -- good lord we’d have a lot of empty spaces if we were doing that. So, uh. Anyway. it’s time for “we make a mess of the characters and also the timeline and the plot because it’s Our City Now”

Student AfO is a different creature to small Toshinori of our au. For the purposes of this post we’ll call him AfO, because while I’d love to just jump into referring to him as Shigaraki there’s a lot of confusions that lie down that road. Also, again, we’re calling mr heckhands mcmike Tomura, because Shigaraki is a name with Weight.

Because canon parallels, Ageswap AfO has a little brother who we’re making Kyudai Garaki/the Good Doctor and also quirkless for our purposes (whether he’s AfO’s biological brother is up in the air, we haven’t settled yet). Garaki has something of an intense obsession with quirks, constantly studying and doing research, not unlike Izuku, and the age gap between him and AfO is... about six years. Now, because AfO had already manifested a quirk of his own and that quirk had fearsome potential, One for All was originally going to be passed on to his brother, because before Ageswap Izuku, OfA had strictly been handed down to trained members of the family.

Tomura was a member of the group that had, through the generations, been working to fight against the users of One for All. To hit them where it hurt, he attacked Izuku’s mentor’s (we’ll call them the Mentor) home with a group of League fighters. When he found out there was a quirkless boy, and a second one who was all but quirkless for all that he’d been told to avoid using his own powers, he quickly took them in under the League’s wing -- both in an act of cruelty against OfA and out of some misguided sympathy for the boys.

The fearsome thing is the toxicity of the relationships Tomura formed with the League, and eventually with the boys. He meant well, when he took them in, but whatever this version of him went through... well, just about all his relationships are some level of manipulative and unhealthy by default. See: his tendency for physical closeness and being tactile, as mentioned in the ask.

He’s firmly of an opinion along the lines of “if you’ve got the power, and you know you have the power, and you’re not using it to do whatever you can or want, then why do you even have it?” and, for all of AfO’s childhood, Tomura tried his hardest to share this with AfO and sway the kid to his side. With the Mentor having dropped off the grid and abandoned the Shigaraki name in grief, AfO and his brother had nowhere else to go, but AfO was a smart and cautious kid: he couldn’t just listen without a fight, or a reason.

(AfO didn’t know Tomura meant to kill them, that he attacked their home on purpose. When he eventually finds out, he firmly believes Tomura meant to save them)

But Tomura’s persistent, and he doesn’t stop, and eventually he points out: if All for One is a quirk that allows him to take and give quirks, does that not mean he can seek out the perfect quirk for his little brother? All the reasons he’s suffered, AfO has the power to fix that.

That’s the thing that sways AfO to their side, that convinces him to stay with the League and learn under Tomura. Because if it’s for family, isn’t it worth it?

(AfO sees Tomura as a teacher, as a friend, as someone beloved and important. Shigaraki was AfO’s name, but it can be Tomura’s too, if Tomura wants. Then everyone knows they’re family. And Tomura accepts it -- another spit in the face of an enemy, a welcomed token from a beloved student. Shigaraki is a good name for the rest of the world to use, but Tomura, Tomura is a name for the League and the League alone.)

AfO tries, at first, to find other quirks for his brother while he trains, while his brother studies (while Tomura tries to sway Garaki to their side also, because look at what you know, what you could do with that knowledge, combined with your brother’s quirk, you’re so young and so so smart-). OfA is gone beyond the League’s sight, in the hands of the Symbol of Peace, so there’s no point on dwelling on it, really, surely another quirk would work better?

But then One for All comes back around, in the hands of this blond... nobody. His brother’s quirk, running around in a stranger. AfO continues to hunt potential quirks down for his brother and his brother’s studies, but he has a new goal: to try and claim OfA back and give it to who it really belongs to.

the problem of course being that he can’t take it by force like every other quirk, and killing Toshinori would merely render it lost forever.

Essentially, AfO’s primary grudge against Toshinori is the fact that he’s the current bearer of a quirk that, in AfO’s eyes, should belong to Garaki. And Toshinori’s quirklessness, or past quirklessness... is easy to know when you know the secret of One for All.

Some good stuff gets said abt AfO vs Toshinori in this answer here I think, and I’m drawing on it: Toshinori’s more instinct and heart to AfO’s logic and strategy. That’s not to say, obv, that neither of them draw on the other quality, but it’s what stands out most to me about the two of them and just, kind of their general dynamic (or at least, that’s how it seems).

USJ was a subtle message laid beneath a louder declaration. Two-for-one, if you will. “Wouldn't it be so nice to have a quirk that fit better in your hands? that didn't fritz or go funky whenever you so much as turned your head? A quirk you might not even have to coax and strain and train and change your body for?”

But AfO does not confront Toshinori until much later, until after the sports festival. See, the mall incident in this AU is a scene on bargaining.

He confronts Toshinori at the mall -- his face is not known, and it’s a simple matter to pull him off to the side. But there won’t be fighting here today. No, he only came to talk.

Questions, first. About Toshinori, his experience with One for All, what he thinks of other people’s quirks. About what it was like for him, growing up quirkless, left abandoned by so many people for it. Eventually, his conversation circles back around. I have a little brother. He’s quirkless, just like you. You know what he went through, what he suffered.

All for One even did his research, is even willing to play by rules closer to Toshinori’s own: tucked under his arm is a folder, with lists upon lists of people. Villains with sentences for life, villains under the death sentence, people who would have no life of returning to the world ever again. People who don’t have a reason to use their quirks any longer. People for whom it wouldn’t matter if he took their quirks anyway. “Take your pick,” he offers Toshinori. “I’ll give you whatever quirk you’ve ever wanted. I’ll even take it from a villain so none of your precious civilians have to suffer the loss — but that one belongs to my little brother.”

And, well. We all know he says no.

Why would Toshinori hang onto a quirk that isn’t even his? All the people out there, bearing the quirks that his brother and even his greatest enemy were robbed of at birth, and AfO has the power to grant both Toshinori and Garaki the power that they’d dreamed of, that belongs to them. He knows what it means to suffer without a quirk. Why won’t Toshinori let him fix that?

and idk specifically what Toshi would say, but I think it’s something along the lines of “no one asks for what they're born with or given, but we make the most of it anyway. That's how we're supposed to live.“

Anyway Toshinori and All for One hate each other SO fucking much but. Unfortunately, also just kind of Get Each Other on some level. Like, they despise one another but also, if there’s one thing they can believe in, it’s that the other will always Be The Way They Are. Friendly Enemyship, if you will.

There’s some level of pity that AfO also holds on the percieved coldness of Toshinori’s relationship to his mentor, Izuku. Izuku is... really awkward, in his relationship with Toshi, and while Izuku loves his student very much he has a hard time showing it -- and Toshinori thinks so poorly of himself, it’s hard to grasp how close they are from the outside sometimes. AfO totally tries to recruit Toshinori to their side, even after he figures they’re Tight and also even though he knows Toshinori won’t ever say yes. Like, he hates the guy, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a kickass ally.

Tomura would like Toshinori and AfO says as much to his face. “You’re more like him than I am, anyway. You can act without overthinking. And he wouldn’t care if you were quirkless. He doesn’t with my brother.”

(Toshinori hates that. He isn’t, he isn’t he isn’t like him at all.)

Tomura has also more or less promised AfO that, at the end of his lifespan, his student should take on Decay. AfO, of course, doesn’t want that and is on the hunt for a good longevity quirk to give to his mentor

In the end, the way All for One is kind of being played in this AU is something not so far off from Anakin Skywalker.

In Lioness’ words:

Noble in his desire to keep his family alive

But horribly misdirected