#but neither do any of the other ones make any sense

[reidswhre]

notes 4 you ; spencer reid x fem!reader

warnings: fluff! best friends in love

You were gathering your things from your desk while wondering what you were going to have for dinner. You hadn’t left any food prepared, and honestly, you didn’t feel like cooking, but nothing that a food delivery couldn’t fix.

“Hi.” Spencer smiled at you from in front.

“Hey, you.” You smiled back while slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Are you heading home?” He asked.

“Of course, I’m going home, where else would I go at this hour?” You teased him.

“Oh- I don’t know- I- well.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought maybe you could come to my place, I’m making pasta.”

“Your place? Oh God, sure! I’d love to.”

“Really?”

“Of course!”

You used to go to Spencer’s place often, and he to yours. You’d have dinner, watch a movie or two, and talk a lot. You spent all day together at work, but given the tragic cases you dealt with, seeing each other outside of work felt peaceful, a nice atmosphere that you both created.

You liked him a lot, and you were sure he liked you too. There were always moments when everything felt tense or you sensed something stronger than friendship between you, but neither of you ever acted on it.

“I missed it here,” you said as you entered Spencer’s apartment.

“Did you?” He asked as he watched you head straight to his bookshelf.

“Are you kidding? I love this place; it’s so cozy, so interesting, so lovely, so… you.”

“Do you love me?” He gave you a playful look as he set the groceries on the table for dinner.

“Of course, I do, silly.” You rolled your eyes and picked up the book on the coffee table. “This one’s new.”

“Yeah—actually, all those piled over there are new.” He pointed to a stack of about five books to your right.

“Oh, can I borrow this one when you're done?” you asked, grabbing one from the pile.

“You can take any of them, really.” He gave you that closed-lip smile.

“Wait, you’ve read all five already? You said they were new!”

“I read fast.”

“Of course you do.” You rolled your eyes again, smiling as you skimmed through the book.

“By the way! I finished reading that book you recommended, your favorite, remember?”

You felt a wave of happiness wash over you. “You’re kidding! I didn’t even know you bought it! How exciting! What did you think?”

“It was pretty good, though I think the dialogues in the book show some deficiencies in terms of plausibility and conversational dynamics. This homogeneity in the discourse negatively affects the characterization and pacing, creating a sense of stagnation in the dramatic development.”

You were left speechless, which made you laugh a little.

“What’s so funny?” He furrowed his brows.

“You just severely criticized my favorite book!”

“I didn’t criticize it severely!” He defended himself. “I thought it was good! It has memorable lines, and it’s very romantic. I just think the dialogue could’ve been better, that’s all.”

“Sure, everyone’s entitled to their opinion, even if yours is wrong,” you teased.

“Hey!” Spencer feigned offense.

You laughed, and Spencer chuckled a little too.

“You can keep that one too.”

“No, no, don’t worry. I have that book in every edition that exists.” You laughed. “It’s my favorite for a reason.”

“Yeah, but—I thought you might want this one.” Spencer walked over to the bookshelf in front of you and pulled out the book from a drawer.

The book was filled with sticky notes. You glanced at it and saw it was covered with annotations everywhere.

“I—well—I made notes while reading because—I don’t know—I wanted to give it to you. I thought you’d like to see how I was doing as I read it.” He looked a bit nervous.

You looked at him and then back at the book. You were so surprised that no words came out of your mouth, which only made Spencer more anxious.

“No—you don’t have to keep it—It wasn’t my intention to make you feel like you had to read it, I didn’t even ask if you wanted it, I’m really sorry!”

“You’re sorry?” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry for giving me the best gift anyone’s ever given me?” You smiled broadly.

“What? You want it?” He sighed in relief.

“Are you kidding? This is incredible.” You threw your arms around him in a hug. “I love it! I can’t wait to see what you wrote.” You pulled away from the hug to skim through the book.

“No! Don’t do that!” He placed his hands over the book so you couldn’t read it. “Read it at home, okay?”

“Why!? I want to read it now.” You laughed and moved the book out of his reach.

“The thing is, I—you know—I wrote a lot…” He looked away.

You gave him a knowing look. “Of course, that was the idea, wasn’t it? I’m well aware,” you said teasingly.

“Sure! But… I didn’t just write what I thought about the book.” He looked at you. “I highlighted and underlined things that reminded me of you, and… I wrote you a few things. Just—read it later, okay?”

Suddenly, you felt a bit nervous, your stomach flipping. What did he mean by writing you a few things?

“Oh sure… yeah—sorry.” You closed the book and tucked it under your arm.

“It’s okay! Forget it.” He smiled sweetly. “Help me with the pasta, yeah?”

You smiled back. “What?” You pretended to be offended. “I came here to be treated like a princess, not to get my hands dirty!”

“Stop complaining!” He teased you, and you laughed.

You returned home around midnight, hung up your jacket, and left your keys on the table. Eagerly, you pulled the book out of your bag and sat down on the couch to take a look.

You saw some of his notes.

What’s this supposed to be? This guy’s an idiot. >:(

Oh, that was sweet! Extra points for him!

She’s funny, just like you.

you and me :) It was next to a paragraph describing a black cat and an orange one playing around.

I’m reading this on the plane, and you’re asleep i miss you :(

I seriously hate this guy, who raised him!?

You looked really cute today. You’re always cute.

There were countless more notes, all in his handwriting.

You had no intention of sleeping until you finished reading them all.

[rocketbirdie]

thoughts on gay cloud strife?

too many, actually........

He strikes me as the kind of guy who would pretend to have a crush on a girl because that's what he's supposed to do, right? And he doesn't understand why people make such a big deal out of it. love songs, romance movies, steamy novels, apparently everybody else is feeling some kind of feeling that Cloud just........ doesn't have access to. But he plays along with it. it's what's expected of him. It's not like there's any other options, as far as he knows.

but he's not interested in girls and he knows it, he just doesn't see anything odd about his obsession with SOLDIER. With Sephiroth. With these strong, confident men in their sleeveless tops and baggy pants and badass combat boots.

And when he finally gets to meet a real SOLDIER for the first time (Zack in CC), it's almost comical how Love At First Sight the scene is. What with its tender emotional orchestral swells and glittering snow and pretty-smiling hair-swooshing face reveal. Suddenly Cloud's got the giggles and he's trying to act all cool. then they're hanging out every chance they get. Cloud's inviting Zack to his hometown to meet his mom. somehow neither of them realize what's happening.

and it's over before it can even begin.

By AC, there are so many people who love Cloud dearly— whose love he feels unable to reciprocate because he never got the opportunity to learn what love is. He doesn't know that love is supposed to be more than just a sense of obligation. The way he sees it, he got a tiny taste of it one time, and it ruined his life and took the life of someone that, in hindsight, he loved.

[st4rrmii]

My thought's on the "Ben Situation"

(Obvious spoilers for the trailer below the cut)

Okay, the Ben situation, with him knowing about Brooklynnn being alive, I think y'all are going a LIIITTLE too hard on him rn, like I've seen people saying they're gonna drop him as a fave character and I'm like??? We only have the trailer kets breathe for a moment.

Anyways, based on clothing, it looks like it's going to be in the first few episodes, I'm kinda betting second or third, and with him only finding out at the END of episode 1, that doesn't leave a lot of time between things, unless they do a pretty major timeskip, which I doubt. It doesn't seem like it's going to be a conscious decision where he just- chooses not to tell them because why not, it feels like it'll be a very stress/fear based decision, which is fair!

Think about it, your friend has been dead for 6-9 months, you just found out they were targetted due to possible illegal activity, and now you're in an unknown area to find out/fix what happened, then you find out they're actually alive and in some dino ecoterrorism group, that's not gonna be easy to tell people! Especially with having no proof thanks to the phone being dead, he has no way to ACTUALLY show Brooklynn is alive, honestly I feel like either way someone would've been mad at him, it honestly would've made sense if Kenji straight up didn't believe him and got mad at him for "making shit up".

Overall, it just seems like an overall garbage situation for Ben, on one hand he could tell everyone without proof and risk being seen as literally insane, and on the other hand he could not tell them and let them find out themselves, but not be trusted by them for who knows how long, neither situation is good. Ntm just the mental block of telling people things like that, like y'all cannot tell me you haven't had moments where logically you SHOULD be telling someone something but fear stops you.

I just think we should let the season come out before we make any major judgments on characters, and that goes for ALL of them (I'm looking directly at Brooklynn)

(Also, it looks like Ben and Kenji seem to be somewhat okay after the fight, so I don't think Kenji is just gonna straight up hate Ben the whole season)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

4 Great Motives for Writing by George Orwell

George Orwell:

From a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-four I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature and that sooner or later I should have to settle down and write books. Putting aside the need to earn a living, I think there are four great motives for writing, at any rate for writing prose. They exist in different degrees in every writer, and in any one writer the proportions will vary from time to time, according to the atmosphere in which he is living. They are:

(i) Sheer egoism. Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc. It is humbug to pretend this is not a motive, and a strong one. Writers share this characteristic with scientists, artists, politicians, lawyers, soldiers, successful business men – in short, with the whole top crust of humanity. The great mass of human beings are not acutely selfish. After the age of about thirty they abandon individual ambition – in many cases, indeed, they almost abandon the sense of being individuals at all – and live chiefly for others, or are simply smothered under drudgery. But there is also the minority of gifted, willful people who are determined to live their own lives to the end, and writers belong in this class. Serious writers, I should say, are on the whole more vain and self-centered than journalists, though less interested in money.

(ii) Aesthetic enthusiasm. Perception of beauty in the external world, or, on the other hand, in words and their right arrangement. Pleasure in the impact of one sound on another, in the firmness of good prose or the rhythm of a good story. Desire to share an experience which one feels is valuable and ought not to be missed. The aesthetic motive is very feeble in a lot of writers, but even a pamphleteer or writer of textbooks will have pet words and phrases which appeal to him for non-utilitarian reasons; or he may feel strongly about typography, width of margins, etc. Above the level of a railway guide, no book is quite free from aesthetic considerations.

(iii) Historical impulse. Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.

(iv) Political purpose – using the word ‘political’ in the widest possible sense. Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other people’s idea of the kind of society that they should strive after. Once again, no book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.

It can be seen how these various impulses must war against one another, and how they must fluctuate from person to person and from time to time. By nature – taking your ‘nature’ to be the state you have attained when you are first adult – I am a person in whom the first three motives would outweigh the fourth. In a peaceful age I might have written ornate or merely descriptive books, and might have remained almost unaware of my political loyalties.

Looking back through the last page or two, I see that I have made it appear as though my motives in writing were wholly public-spirited. I don’t want to leave that as the final impression. All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist or understand. For all one knows that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s own personality. Good prose is like a windowpane. I cannot say with certainty which of my motives are the strongest, but I know which of them deserve to be followed. And looking back through my work, I see that it is invariably where I lacked a political purpose that I wrote lifeless books and was betrayed into purple passages, sentences without meaning, decorative adjectives and humbug generally.

Published in Gangrel, No. 4, Summer 1946

More: George Orwell

[possessionisamyth]

Not to kick a dead horse, but there is a way to make Pier's death genuinely very loaded and tragic that fandom consensus just seems to continue to miss! I've never seen a take about Piers's death being about PIERS, but all about "ooohh chris lost a good one" and how the two are not able to fuck anymore. But I am going to free you from these shackles while I zero in on Chris' comment of

"I wanted him to replace me."

Surely Piers was being trained to take Chris' job ideally after a decent retirement party, but neither of them get that luxury because Edonia happens, and Chris is gone. The beloved captain has vanished, and the person who's supposed to take his job is right there, so they give it to him. It's Piers responsibility to not only be a face of what the BSAA represents, but also the heavy shackles of expectations are slapped onto him.

Everyone wants Chris, which means Piers can't be himself nor figure out how to run the same jobs his way. No, it has to be Chris' way. There's no time for anyone to adjust and shift gears either with the C-Virus outbreaks, the terrorist attacks from Ada*(Carla), and the search party he shambled together to locate the missing Redfield. So he tries his damnedest to fill Chris' shoes and suddenly realizes just how out of his depth he is. There were so many reasons people called Chris for certain tasks, even tasks Piers hadn't known about and definitely hadn't been trained on, that Piers never saw. There's no mentor to dial. No reference other than fellow soldiers saying things like, "We don't know how, he just got it done," which is the least helpful thing in the world. Hell, there's barely any notes to go through when he searches Chris' office for a semblance of a hint as to how he should do this job.

Maybe it turns out Chris was doing his best to gently ease that heavy mantle into Piers' hands. It's why his scheduled retirement seemed so far away at the time. Perhaps, after one comment too many where he'd been accidentally addressed by the name of his captain for the 50th time, Piers breaks. He can't do this. He's not ready for this. He needs the one person who did all this back by any means necessary, so he drops all the work and joins the search party. He verbally harasses an amnesiac Chris into coming back because maybe it isn't that bad. Maybe Chris just needs a reminder of what he's been doing everyday for literal years and things would be back to normal again.

But it's not. It's messier. It's uglier. This isn't the Chris he worked so hard to fight alongside. There are glimpses of him in there, but most of the time in China, Piers feels like he's working with a stranger. People die, and Chris keeps pushing forward no matter how much he's shouted at, and Piers feels like this is all his fault. The deaths are his fault because he couldn't buckle down and do what Chris originally wanted him to do. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him.

So when they go to that underwater facility, and their backs are against the wall, there's the looming sense of failure and a terrifying amount of pressure. If they get out of this alive, who knows when Chris would be back in shape to work again if that ever happens. Piers would have to be responsible. He was already responsible for the squad he gathered to take up this job, and they were skewed into pieces around downtown Lanshiang. Take Chris' place. Replace him. Be better than him, and Piers failed on all accounts. He couldn't get Chris back the way he was supposed to be. His squad was dead. The responsibility he'd have to take up if they made it out alive would be nigh unbearable, and then he gets infected.

He gets infected and suddenly the decision is so easy. To let go. To hope for the best. To be the one left behind when he was supposed to be the one moving towards the future. Another glimpse of the Chris that Piers knew is seen, a more confident glimpse wherein Chris does everything he can to try and save him. And Piers smiles when Chris fails. When he saves Chris. When he seems to finally do one thing right after things never seemed to stop falling apart.

It's the last thing Chris sees. That smile and the ever encroaching weight of immeasurable responsibility that'll grasp him tight as soon as he breaks the surface. The weight Piers couldn't take from him, and maybe never wanted in the first place.

[sualne]

PLEASE elaborate on Monet and laws relationship in the secret modern au! Because from previous posts law is activity doing Things with sanji and is in a queer platonic relationship with luffy I just need to know the whole custerfuck of laws personal life what is HAPPENING in there

law and monet, they met when way back he was in the hospital as a teen. monet first started working there as a nurse for law specifically because of doflamingo's orders, then became ceasar's assistant and an anesthetist, now she's essentially a trafalgar specialist.

some months after losing her legs she complained about having trouble with relationships (one night stands really) because ppl kept getting put off and being really weird about her being an amputee so jokingly she said something about law and her only have each other and how they should date, law just went "let's do it then."

it's also because doflamingo keeps on killing baby 5's ""boyfriends"" making dating difficult when you're part to the donquixote family (as in crime family). since doflamingo for some reasons wants both of them alive, "dating" each other is the safest way they can go about it.

but they're also fake dating/fiancés in the sense that neither are in love with the other and they're essentially playing. they do care for each other but they're not friends, they're stuck together because of doflamingo, neither can really do any kind of relationships without the impeding threats of him ripping it all away in an instant. so they play. one date they're newly engaged doctors with a luxurious life style, another they're two tired girls who met online seeing each other irl for the first time, another and they're in love, ect.

law is a big mess relationships wise but also when it comes to his sexual life, he keeps putting himself into situation out of self loathing, hoping to get hurt, hoping that this time it'll fix him, hoping to be proven wrong, hoping to get away from everything and himself. he's all over the place. his and monet's relationship is messed up but it's one of the most comfortable he's got even though he knows a single word from doflamingo and she'd never speak to him again.

[rootedinrevisions]

Enough for You: Part 5

SUMMARY: The next day begins with you and Tyler waking up and packing for the upcoming storm chase. As you both prepare for the week ahead, there's a sense of excitement and anticipation. After arriving back at Tyler's place, the team gathers, and nervousness creeps in as you reunite with them. But all your worries fade as they welcome you with open arms. With Tyler by your side, you share the news of your relationship, and the team's reaction is filled with support and playful teasing, especially towards Tyler. The day ends on a high note, solidifying your place within the team and your future with Tyler.

WARNINGS: Fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4

NOTE: Here is the FINAL part to this story/series! Hope you enjoy! xx

TAG LIST: @omgbrianab I @shanimallina87 I @callsign-diva I @starshinegrl I @willowpains I @beltzboys2015-blog I @fanficmom94 I @smoothdogsgirl I @djs8891

(I believe I have everyone added/tagged that wants to be on my tag list! If you have asked and don't see your username tagged, I may have missed your request. Feel free to send it to me again and I'll make sure I get you added! Keep reading

The morning light filters softly through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room as you slowly stir awake. You feel the familiar weight of Tyler’s arm draped over you, his chest rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing. For a moment, you don’t move, just letting yourself savor the quiet intimacy of the morning.

Tyler is still asleep, his face relaxed, lips slightly parted. You take in the sight of him, his messy hair, the peaceful look on his face, and your heart swells. It's hard to believe that just days ago, you thought you might have lost this—lost him forever. But now, here you are, waking up in his house, wrapped in the warmth of his arms, and it’s better than you could have ever asked for.

You shift slightly, and Tyler stirs, his grip tightening around you for a moment as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away. Slowly, his eyes flutter open, and he blinks a few times before focusing on you. A lazy, content smile spreads across his face as he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Morning,” he mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” you whisper back, your fingers brushing lightly through his hair as you press a soft kiss to his forehead.

Tyler shifts, propping himself up on one elbow as he looks down at you. His eyes scan your face, and you can see the emotion there, the way he’s taking in this moment like it’s something precious. “I really thought I’d lost my chance with you. Part of me was afraid I’d wake up and you’d be gone,” he admits softly, his voice low, almost as if he’s afraid saying it out loud might break the spell.

You reach up, brushing your fingers against his cheek. “You didn’t lose me,” you whisper, your voice gentle but firm. “I’m right here.”

He leans down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips, as if grounding himself in the reality of you being in his arms. When he pulls back, there’s a softness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat.

The two of you lie there for a while longer, wrapped up in each other, neither of you in any hurry to break the peaceful bubble you’ve created. Tyler’s fingers trace lazy patterns on your back, and you feel the warmth of his body against yours, perfectly content to stay like this forever.

Eventually, though, Tyler shifts again, glancing at the clock on his bedside table. “We should probably get up,” he murmurs, though his tone is hesitant, like he doesn’t really want to.

You scrunch your face into a playful pout, rolling over slightly so you can look up at him. “Do we have to?” you ask, your voice teasing as you stretch out under the covers, making a dramatic show of how comfortable you are.

Tyler chuckles, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist as he shakes his head. “You’re not making this any easier,” he says, though there’s a warmth in his voice that tells you he’s more than happy to stay right here.

You pout a little more dramatically, your bottom lip sticking out as you give him your best pleading eyes. “Come on, just a little longer?”

He smirks, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, his hand resting on your hip. “You’re cute when you pout,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with amusement.

You let out a little huff, though the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. 

Then, an idea crosses your mind, and a mischievous glint sparks in your eyes. You shift beneath him, your fingers trailing up his chest, and you lean up, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of his neck.

Tyler’s breath catches slightly, but he chuckles, shaking his head. “What are you doing?” he asks, though there’s a playful tone to his voice.

You smirk, your lips brushing against his skin as you trail another kiss down the side of his neck, sucking gently as you hear him let out a low hum. “Just trying to convince you to stay,” you murmur, your voice soft and teasing.

Tyler shifts slightly, his hand moving to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Oh, is that what you’re doing?” he asks, his voice lower now, though still filled with that familiar teasing warmth.

You giggle softly, pressing another kiss to his neck, then another, before moving lower. You can feel him relax into your touch, his grip on your waist tightening as he leans back slightly, letting you work your magic.

“Okay, okay,” he laughs softly, his voice a little rougher now, his hand moving up your thigh. “You’re gonna make it very hard for me to get out of this bed, you know that?”

You look up at him, your lips hovering just over his skin, a playful smile on your face. “That’s the plan,” you whisper, before trailing your lips back down his neck.

Tyler groans softly, his head tilting back slightly as he closes his eyes, clearly enjoying the attention. “You’re impossible,” he mutters, though there’s no real conviction behind his words.

You grin, pressing one last kiss to his collarbone before pulling back slightly, your fingers brushing through his messy hair. “So... does that mean you’re staying?”

Tyler opens his eyes, looking down at you with a grin that tells you he’s clearly enjoying this little game. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice now, do I?”

You laugh softly, leaning up to kiss him again, this time slower and more intimate. His hand moves to cup your cheek, pulling you closer as he deepens the kiss, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him as his lips move against yours.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you catching your breath. “You’re trouble,” he murmurs, though the smile on his face says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You grin up at him, your fingers brushing lightly over his chest. “Good trouble, though, right?”

Tyler laughs, nodding as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “The best kind.”

As the two of you finally pull yourselves out of bed, the chilly morning air makes you shiver slightly. Tyler notices instantly, catching the way you wrap your arms around yourself. Without a word, he steps over to his closet and pulls out one of his flannels, a well-worn favorite that’s soft from years of use. He walks back toward you, a small smile tugging at his lips as he holds it out.

“Here,” he says softly, his voice still husky from the early morning. “This’ll keep you warm.”

You glance down at the flannel in his hands and then back up to him, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “Thanks,” you reply, taking it from him and slipping it on. It’s oversized on you, the sleeves falling past your hands, but it’s cozy, and it smells like him—the faint smell of his cedarwood cologne.

Tyler’s eyes linger on you for a moment, and you can tell by the way he’s looking at you that seeing you in his clothes does something to him. His gaze softens, and he steps closer, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs.

You smile up at him, feeling a bit lighter in that moment. He leans down and kisses the top of your head, his lips warm against your skin.

Tyler heads back to his dresser, pulling out clothes and tossing them onto the bed. You watch as he begins to pack his bag for the week ahead, each motion methodical and focused. You lean against the doorframe, sipping the coffee he’d made earlier, just content to watch him. It’s a quiet, intimate moment—one of those times that feels like you’ve been together for years, not just a short while.

“You all set for the week?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Almost,” Tyler replies, folding up a few shirts and shoving them into the duffel. “You?”

You nod. “Not quite. I have everything washed, just need to pack it.”

Tyler pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. “You sure you’re ready for another week out there?” His tone is light, but you can hear the underlying concern. He’s protective, always thinking ahead.

You step closer, setting your coffee down on the dresser. “I’m good. And I’ll be better knowing we’re heading out together.”

He turns toward you, his hands stilling as he gazes down at you. “Yeah,” he says softly, pulling you into his arms. “Together.”

After gathering up Tyler’s things, the two of you head back over to your place so you can pack your bag for the week ahead. 

The drive is easy, filled with comfortable silence and the occasional brush of Tyler’s hand against yours as he navigates the familiar roads. You feel content, knowing the week ahead won’t be as daunting with him by your side.

Once at your apartment, you quickly slip into your pre chase routine, gathering clothes, gear, and everything else you might need. Tyler leans against the doorframe of your bedroom, watching as you toss a few last-minute items into your bag.

Just as you’re about to zip it shut, Tyler’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances at the screen, his brows raising slightly. “It’s the team,” he says, meeting your eyes before answering the call. You can hear Boone’s voice on the other end, though the words are muffled.

“Yeah, what’s the plan for today?” Boone’s voice comes through a little clearer now, as Tyler puts the phone on speaker so you can hear the conversation as well.

Tyler grins slightly, his eyes flicking toward you as he speaks. “We’ll meet at my place in a few hours. Get everything ready and we’ll go over the plan once  we’re all together. There’s some systems rolling in near the Kansas/Oklahoma border that look promising.”

There’s a brief pause on the other end, and you catch the hint of hesitation in Boone’s tone when he asks, “Ty…have you heard from her? None of us have talked to her. The team’s wondering if she’s-”

Your grin spreads, and you glance over at Tyler. He catches the look on your face, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. 

Without missing a beat, he replies, “Yeah, I’ve heard from her.”

Boone seems to pause again, as if trying to read between the lines. “Alright then… I guess we’ll get the details later.”

Tyler just chuckles softly and shakes his head, his eyes never leaving yours as he replies, “Yeah, we’ll talk when you all get there.”

When he ends the call, he slips the phone back into his pocket and raises an eyebrow at you, his smirk widening. “You think he caught on?”

You laugh, zipping your bag shut. “Maybe, but they’ll get their answers soon enough.”

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “Good,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Because I’m not about to hide this from anyone.”

You smile, resting your head against his chest for a moment, enjoying the warmth of him. “Neither am I.”

The two of you lock up your place and then head back to his place for a quick lunch of sandwiches. After finishing lunch, you and Tyler start cleaning up, the sound of laughter and conversation in the distance signaling the arrival of the team. As you finish wiping down the last plate, Tyler leans against the counter, catching your eye.

“They’re here,” he says softly, his voice tinged with a calm that you wished you could match.

You offer him a small smile, trying to brush off the nerves fluttering in your chest. “I’ll finish up here. You go get them.”

He hesitates for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as if he can sense the apprehension bubbling just under the surface. But he doesn’t press, only nods before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “Alright. I’ll be right outside.”

As soon as he steps out, you hear the muffled sound of the team greeting him. The warmth in their voices is unmistakable, but as their laughter drifts closer to the house, a nervous knot forms in your stomach. What if they aren’t okay with you and Tyler dating? What if this changes the dynamic? You take a steadying breath, hoping your nerves will ease, but it’s hard to shake the worry.

A few minutes later, the sound of footsteps approaching the door pulls you from your thoughts. The front door swings open, and you freeze for a moment, clutching the dish towel a little tighter in your hands.

But then Lily walks in, her eyes lighting up the moment she sees you. “There she is!” Without hesitation, she strides across the room and pulls you into a warm hug, squeezing you tight. “I’ve missed you!”

You laugh, your nerves melting a little as you hug her back. “I missed you too.”

Dexter and Dani follow right behind her, both grinning as they offer their own greetings. Dexter nudges you playfully on the arm. “Good to see you again. It’s been way too long.”

Dani winks at you, her grin widening. “Glad to have you back.”

Just as you start to feel fully at ease, Boone steps forward, towering over you with a wide grin before pulling you into a bear hug that nearly knocks the wind out of you. “About time you showed up again!”

You laugh, your cheeks flushing as he finally lets you go. But Boone doesn’t miss a beat. His eyes scan you for a second before they land on the flannel you’re wearing—Tyler’s flannel. 

He raises an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous as he points to the shirt you’re wearing. “Well, well… what’s this?”

Lily and Dani exchange knowing looks, and Dexter’s smirk only grows as Boone points to the obvious. “Tyler’s flannel, huh?”

You glance at Tyler, who had made his way over to the group, standing a few feet away with a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. Your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, the world seems to narrow down to just the two of you. You’re not nervous anymore, just ready.

Tyler walks over, slipping his arm around your waist as he turns to face the team. “Alright, alright,” he says, his voice light but steady. “Yes, she’s coming back to the team. And we’ve decided to… give the dating thing a go.”

For a moment, there’s a beat of silence. Then Lily breaks it with an excited squeal. “Finally!”

Boone lets out a loud laugh, clapping Tyler on the back. “Took you long enough, man. We’ve all been waiting for this.”

Dexter crosses his arms, shaking his head in amusement. “I had a bet going that it wouldn’t happen until next month.”

Dani winks again, nudging you with her elbow. “Guess it’s official now. Took you long enough, though, T.”

Tyler chuckles, pulling you a little closer to his side. “Yeah, yeah. Took my time, but we’re here now.”

As the teasing continues, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. The team is thrilled, and more importantly, they’re accepting. All your worries fade as you look around at the smiles and laughter filling the room. You exchange another look with Tyler, the weight of the last 24 hours settling into something solid and comforting.

He leans down and murmurs quietly in your ear, “Told you everything would be fine.”

You smile, nudging him playfully as the teasing continues. “Okay, you were right this time.”

Tyler grins, brushing a kiss against your forehead as the team gathers around, ready for whatever comes next—together.

[aspiringsophrosyne]

It’s interesting how both the Smitten and the Skeptic kill you.

If you kill the Princess, they both visit the same fate upon you, overriding your input. However, their respective motivations are very different.

The Smitten does it out of distraught, furious bereavement; he kills us as much out of rage and revenge as he does grief. The Skeptic, meanwhile, kills us when the Narrator traps us (the way he does in the good ending). However, the Skeptic is not like the Hero; he does not let us decide when he recognizes the circumstances we have found ourselves in.

One of the most generous ways to read the Smitten/Damsel relationship is that it represents the honeymoon phase. Smitten and Damsel have just met, think the world of each other, will do anything for each other, want to make each other happy, and dismiss each other's flaws when the Hero or the Narrator voices them. They are driven not by what they know but by their initial impressions and emotions.

This perspective leaves them both oblivious or apathetic to the Narrator’s machinations; they can ignore or overpower him. The shackle slips right off the Damsel's wrist. The locked door swings open. Even murdering the Damsel is not enough to dampen her love for you; all that does is turn it murderous again via the Burned Grey.

On the other hand, information drives the Skeptic and the Prisoner. They do not know each other. You took the blade when you went to meet her, and she killed you. These two can’t trust each other. Not completely. Because neither trusts without verifying first. And because, besides all that, there’s another factor in play: the Narrator.

Both the Skeptic and the Prisoner are aware of the Narrator. Both know that no matter what they want or do, something outside of them has the power to interfere. And their weapon of choice against him is information. The Prisoner plays dumb unless you “-give away the game,” and even then, she doesn’t reveal her plan. Not even to you. Instead, she hopes you take the hint and figure out what she wants you to do. Likewise, when you try to give her the knife to enact the plan, the Narrator tries to stop you as he did before, and the Skeptic thwarts him by pointing out how well that went the last time.

In contrast to the Damsel/Smitten pair, these two have one of the least emotionally charged dynamics of any Shifty/Quiet duo but have mutual respect and an understated sense of partnership that few other pairs start out with. Though the Drowned Grey’s motivation is not the explicit love of her counterpart, she’s still dressed like a widow to parallel the Burned Grey’s wedding dress.

And speaking of the Greys, they bring home the contrasting yet parallel dynamics between these Princesses and their Voices: one is fire, one is water. One has a passionate affect, the other a flat affect. One leaves behind only bones, the other a fleshy corpse. One is a bride, the other is a widow. Killing the Princess you defied the Narrator to save results in a Grey, a ghost dressed for marriage (future or past), that leads you to the basement of a dilapidated cabin that serves as your gruesome tomb.

The Damsel/Prisoner/Greys have many superficial differences that highlight how similar they are once you look beyond them. If played straight, the Damsel/Prisoner is a route where you continue to defy the narrator. The Damsel wants to leave? Pull off her chain and escort her out. The Prisoner wants to escape her chains? Give her the knife and take her head with you. Both are routes where you've established the best report with the Princess you could; you've literally died to protect her. Following this, you can take advantage of that goodwill and use it against the Narrator.

And in the case of the Greys, while the details are different (rain/desert, widow/bride, bones/corpse, drowning/burning) in both cases you're lead to your doom by a betrayed ghost of a Princess in a neglected cabin.

Various Voices and Princesses serve as foils and mirrors to each other (Rivalry and Submission, Terror and Longing, etc.), but none more closely than the Damsel/Prisoner Smitten/Skeptic. It makes them especially interesting and I'm excited to see what their future third chapters have in store.

[angy-grrr]

The good old conflict continues over Twitter. According to dudebros, apparently, we are the problem for Hori not making IzuOcha canon. But at the same time, IzuOcha is already canon in an 'implied' sense in the narrative, and that we are delusional for ''denying their canon romance''.

Some people are even trying to argue that Bakugo and Izuku don't have that much of a special bond or relationship. I mean... really? So we just gonna ignore the literal core part of the story, then?

They constantly like to bring the moments like the recent roof scene and how 'Ochako saved Deku when Deku lost control of the black whip'. Let's just ignore that Izuku lost control because someone insulted Bakugo and that Ochako couldn't stop Izuku, she had to get him be 'brainwashed'.

If the roof scene was The Moment, then they would have gone canon right and there, yet they didn't. Oh.... But, yeah, sorry. It's actually our fault that Hori didn't make the straight ship canon in his shounen manga.

When will they stop acting like the straights are oppressed?

BNHA 430 SPOILERS

it’s quite common for manga shonen series to canonize their het ships by showing something romantic without letting us know how they confessed, at least in the original work; they are often already married in a time skip, or they are shown together in the future while at least one of them (usually the woman) blushing, and this is bc of Japanese typical narration - its not driven by the need of a closed conclusion, usually it’s even better the more often it gets.

I recommend checking on kishotenketsu for more on this!

but anyways, the thing with ochako and Izuku is they don’t have any implied romantic moment which lets the intended audience to understand they are in a relationship -the only scene they have together alone in the time skip is with a small panel, which could be valid, but the snow doesn’t imply it’s Christmas (a romantic holiday) as they are wearing their uniforms and probably are still on campus and neither is even blushing or shown being typical teenagers in love, even tho is clear Izuku is still quite like “a boy at heart”, wanting to be called cool by his teacher at 25 (I don’t believe in the perspective many have of him getting all confident about romance and having a flirty attitude towards Ochako or anyone; there’s nothing implying he became that way). Even Ochako doesn’t have her usual blush!

Bc Mr. Compress is under it reading Spinner’s book, along with the melancholy of the winter with the harsher conditions but beautiful landscapes, it creates a bittersweet image in Japanese culture, as far as I know in my research. It’s not “the villains died but hey, the heteros are dating!”, but more about “Tenko and Himiko died, and there’s this memory about them that will always live. Wonder and snow is a time for reflection, with the possibility of a bright future, so Ochako and Izuku, while failing, still have hope to save complete strangers and inspire others to do the same”.

I think is more about them and the villains, everyone becoming heroes on their own by helping others no matter their “oficial status”. the funniest part? It could be more romantic and imply they are together quite easy if only Horikoshi decided to actually make them a duo and be basically destined to be together helping others if he didn’t choose Katsuki to fulfill that role. He could have just highlighted her with the suit thing, extend her hand, smile at him telling him to do his best, etc. But nah, let’s just have Katsuki tell him to come with him as a hero and imply they hold hands or extend their hands to the other even if they aren’t in need of saving.

Yeah, that’s bc he’s scared of shippers. Sure sure, whatever helps them sleep at night yk?

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

mooooore estrels. working out some more of her design

[coquelicoq]

what i love about the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi of it all is that...it's not just that he's famous and therefore widely recognizable wherever he goes. like yes that is very funny because he was an exorcist before he became a famous actor, which means he CHOSE, on purpose, a day job that would make it harder to hide his double life/secret identity from the hordes of his adoring public, but it's more than that. it's not just that he's famous, it's that he's famous specifically for being an ACTOR, aka a person whose job it is to dissimulate, to make believe, to inhabit roles and emotions other than his own. like he decided he was going to become as visible as possible (which again was literally not necessary! he could have gone into any other career for his day job!!) but in such a way that everyone would see him but no one would see him - they would just see his various made-up personas, including the Famous Actor Natori Shuuichi persona. i can't decide if he's a genius or if he just made so many absurd decisions that they canceled each other out and circled back around to working out. he's either playing 9-dimensional chess or he's eating the pieces. too soon to say.

[nerdie-faerie]

Seeing what presents my baby sister gets and realising I really drew the short straw by being the firstborn

[cherrymoonvol6]

the worst part about flapjack's death is that luz and hunter's friendship died right along with it lmao

[saulbaby]

My toxic trait is that I kinda ship Garrus and Miranda

[silverandebony]

.

[dragontatoes]

can I really be the only bitch out here who's not poly or mono. why isn't it way more common to be like "I can only date one person at a time but don't want an exclusive relationship". how is there not even a word for this.