#but she has a complex that she doesn’t deserve his love

[hunybody]

buck: oh man i love good luck babe by chappell roan! we have to shut this off before eddie gets here though

los angeles gay: hey man you don’t have to do that. if he isn’t being 100% supportive then that’s something he needs to work through. you shouldn’t hide parts of yourself just to make him more comfortable

buck, who is soul tied to eddie and therefore knows that eddie:

1) was forced at 18 to marry the girl he lost his virginity to by a family who has never supported him because she got pregnant and his whole family was

2) devout catholics who lived in texas so then, out of options, eddie

3) fell victim to the military industrial complex as many teens of color with limited options do and then went on a traumatic tour and struggled for years with ptsd after coming home and

4) has panic attacks so bad he goes to the hospital when he tries to date women but can’t admit he’s gay to himself because he feels like he doesn’t deserve ease or happiness and has

5) already been present for 2 breakdowns wherein eddie was a danger to himself and/or others

buck: man i am fucking serious we’ve got to turn this shit off 😐

[haliaiii]

fuck romeo and juliet i want what kane and kalani have

Thank you, have some more 👍👍

Also some misc. facts about them:

- Kain was the captain of the baseball team in highschool, his dream was to become a professional if he didn’t loose his leg

- Kalani did ballroom dancing in highschool with Val

- Kalani works for the government under the Council, her boss is Virgil who’s the Chancellor

- She lives in the capital but comes down to see Kain and the others on every other week on weekends/her days off

- they both like going bowling together with the girls

[cerisereids]

𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝗹- 𝘀.𝗿.

pairing- dad!spencer reid x mom!reader

summary- spencer reid is the best girl dad on the planet

warnings- hurt/comfort and fluff, post s15!spencer- he is no longer with the bau but there are references to his time there, lowkey some angst bc apparently i can’t write anything for spencer without him being sad, spencer’s daddy issues, a lil makin out/grinding, brief discussion of sex/baby making

a/n- divider from @real-afterglow! happy easter to everyone who celebrates! here’s a cute little thing about girl dad!spencer :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

spencer reid’s bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed together. usually, this look of concentration was reserved for intense cases, ones spent pouring over complex documents into late hours of the night. tonight, however, he’s traded serial killers for pastel eggs, taunting him from the kitchen table. spencer’s engaging in an intense staring contest with the plastic eggs as he pores over the array of candy and decorations littering the rest of the table.

his head snaps up as he hears your feet pattering down the steps, knowing you’re about to catch him in the midst of a battle between him and your daughter’s easter goodies. you take the eggs’ place as the object of his visual affection when you appear in the kitchen, staring back at him in silence. his puppy dog eyes plead into yours. he knows you know what he’s trying to say, i’m trying, i want this to be perfect. he also knows you won’t let him destroy himself to make you and your baby girl happy, even when he wants to.

“she’s only two, you know. she’s not going to care if the right piece of candy is in the right egg. she’s just happy to be with us,” you speak to his anxieties like you can read his mind.

it’s one of the many things he loves about you, his sweet wife. the way you just know what his brain is fighting against, and can speak to it. your sweet words don’t appease his guilt this time, though, and you both know it. he plows ten fingers through his mop of hair before sliding his glasses onto his forehead.

“i know,” he breathes, and you both know he has more to say.

“but it’s not enough,” you finish for him.

“it’s not enough,” he repeats, defeated.

“well, then let me help you,” you declare, pulling a chair up next to him.

“no, no,” he insists, shaking his head, “you just put her to bed. you must be exhausted, rest.”

“we’re both exhausted, spence. just because i was the one to put her to bed tonight doesn’t mean i’m the only one doing the parenting around here,” he knows you’re trying to reassure him, but he flinches anyway. his ability to be a father has been a sore subject since you first became pregnant almost three years ago.

“plus, we both know i won’t be able to rest while you’re over here, very clearly in need of a helping hand,” you glare at him, checkmate. he relents at that, and allows you to wrap yourself into him. your arms around his bicep, your head on his shoulder, his chin atop your temple. slowly, he allows vulnerability to pierce through the tension between you two.

“what do we got here, handsome?” you croon, and he’s never been so certain that he doesn’t deserve you, that you’re too good for him. there’s not much he can do about that now but kiss you on the forehead and hope his lips convey a decade of love and devotion in one small kiss.

“i just want it to be perfect,” he croaks, eyes glossing over. “i wasn’t here last time. i don’t think i’ll ever not feel guilty about it.”

“i understand, spence. i’d feel bad, too, but that doesn’t mean you’re not there for her, that you don’t love her. because you do. and you show her, and me, everyday, don’t forget that,” you finish your mini speech with a firm kiss on the lips.

a year ago from this very moment, he was pulled away on a case. the call came at 11 pm, the night before your daughter’s first easter. to say he was devastated would be an understatement. he put on a brave face that morning over facetime, watching the chubby hands of one little eloise reid tear through the plastic easter grass hiding the candy in her basket.

he was brave until the time came to hit the hang up button. with the blankness that filled his screen and his hotel room, he broke. he was of no use on the case, and the team knew it, too. he left the bau shortly after that. he didn’t want to feel that way ever again, and he knew if he stayed there, he would. that time it was only one holiday, sure, but what about when she ends up having a dance recital? or graduates? he couldn’t risk it, he knew his family took the biggest priority.

between that and his own father’s absence in his childhood, he was determined to make this easter absolutely perfect for your daughter, no matter if he fell dead asleep on your kitchen table trying.

the staticky rustling of plastic basket grass tears spencer away from his loud, busy brain, and his eyes soften as they fixate on you. helping him. you’re nestling a little stuffed bunny atop the plastic frills of the basket and spencer watches in awe, wondering why he didn’t think to do that first.

he knows the answer. it’s because it’s you. you’re the best mom, and he loves catching those little moments where you prove that to him. it doesn’t take much, like the way you’re slipping $1 bills into each plastic egg, while also making sure you put a piece of candy there as well. it’s a small gesture, maybe, one that doesn’t take much deep thinking, but he knows that it comes from the deepest love your great beautiful heart can muster.

and of course he loves your daughter too, so, so much, but he struggles to show it the way you do. his lack of a paternal presence in his childhood sometimes leaves him feeling empty handed in his journey of fatherhood. you never let him feel this way for long, though. again, just like now, with the way you immediately jumped in to help him. even after he said no, even if you’re absolutely exhausted. you do it for him, because it’s him. because you love him. he still can’t believe it some days.

he smiles, so full of love for his two girls and lets his gaze linger as you run into the living room. you return yielding the carrots and cookies the three of you left for the easter bunny earlier.

“up for a little midnight snack?” you tease, waving the carrots in one hand and the cookies in another before you sit.

“not my preferred treat but i’m not going to say no to one of your sugar cookies,” he jokes, pulling you to the edge of your chair by the small of your back.

he places a kiss on your lips. an intense one, one that conveys every thought blundering through his mind the 10 minutes you’ve been downstairs. how much he loves you, specifically.

he feels you chuckle against him and can’t help but deepen the kiss, pulling you ever closer so his leg comes between yours, your core pressing warmly against his knee. he hears you whimper, a sound he’ll cherish forever, before you rub against him gently and pull away.

“not tonight,” you peer at him over your glasses, a faux concern dancing through your gaze, “if we do you’ll end up giving me another baby. we both know we’re not ready for that yet.”

it’s his turn now to hide his face in the crook of your neck, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. you dedicate the rest of your night to making this holiday special for your little girl.

after nibbling on the carrots and cookies, you place them back on the plate with a thank you note, signed E.B. he raises a brow as he sees you pad over to your cupboard, pulling out your bin of flour. your cheeky smile invokes butterflies, and he’s breathless. it’s late, you’re in sweats, your hair is a mess, and you’re currently half-bent, sifting flour over a stencil of a bunny foot, and he’s never been more in love with you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

spender hears rustling and sweet talk echoing down your spiral staircase. baby eloise’s sweet morning rasp, her high pitched baby voice asking mama if the easter bunny came. he hears you coo at her, telling her she has to wait and see, followed by kissing noises and baby giggles. his heart grows three sizes.

when he sees you appear in the stairway through the lens of his phone, he quickly tears his gaze away from the screen to see the real thing. his girls, eyes tired and hair messy, float down the steps, light from the back window illuminating them, like his own personal angels.

“hi girls!” he lilts, gentle as to not startle his baby girl.

her big brown eyes that she got from dad bore into his, and he can feel himself welling up at her sweetness. sap.

“hi sweet eloise,” he bends down for a kiss from both his angels as you set her at the bottom of the steps, “i think someone special came,” he coos, stealing some more kisses from the baby’s soft chubby cheeks.

she nestles into spencer’s chest, a tiny little thumb settled gently on her lips, and his heart bleeds. he loves her so much.

“i think the easter bunny came!” he croons, hugging her tight and close, “do you wanna see what he got you?” he feels her head nod against him and he hands you his phone. the three of you walk into the living room and spencer sets her down, letting her choose where to go first.

she runs right to the fireplace, where the eaten treats and thank you note lay, her eyes wide.

“wow!” he hears you gasp, and he pulls you to him so you can walk to her together, “i think he ate our treats!”

eloise turns to you two and giggles, clapping her chubby little hands. you two can’t help but pull her in, attacking her with kisses before letting her go on to her other surprises.

she squeals at the bunny feet, repeating, “bunny! bunny!” she gets presents too, of course, spoiled little thing that she is.

you’re better than spencer at shopping for the girly things she loves, so he was an observer shopping for the special things she’s getting this morning.

you nailed it, too. you got her pink, purple, and blue ruffle swimsuits for the summer, and he’s already dying inside imagining how cute it will be. she immediately opens the tinted lip balm with a unicorn on it, as well as the princess jewelry kit, complete with fake earrings and a necklace with aurora, her favorite princess, on the pendant.

she demolishes the easter egg hunt you set up for her in the backyard, just like her dad always did. she squeals when she opens each one, even though all the $1 bills don’t mean anything to her, and will end up being spent by you two anyway. you agreed to spend the total $10 on her, regardless. it’s about having something that’s her own, forming an identity at an early age.

later in the morning, when you appear in the living room, ready for easter brunch with your family, he falls in love all over again. his girls, now a complete contrast to his view earlier this morning, clad in your easter best, look so beautiful, he’s now thoroughly convinced you’re angels.

you’re in a pink ruffled maxi dress, hair and makeup done to the nines. your baby girl got her hair styled by mom, one of her favorite pastimes. her curly hair lay beautifully behind the world’s cutest bangs, and she’s cute as pie with her yellow flowered dress.

he saunters over to you, piercing you with a gaze that said ‘i’m ready for baby #2 now’ before kissing you, then eloise.

“you are the two most beautiful girls in the entire world,” he croons, hugging you both close to him in his big arms.

“i love you,” you whisper up to him, kissing his jawline sweetly, “what do you say to daddy, sweet girl?” you prompt, rubbing her baby belly.

“thank you daddy, i love you!” she chirps, planting a big kiss on his cheek.

he never thought his life could be filled with this much joy.

[ponderingmoonlight]

After your answer I feel more confident🥰Request about Nanami. He survived Shibuya, but suffered burns to his left side and eye. Nanami began to develop a complex and hide behind a layer of clothing. He thinks his girlfriend deserves better. But she thinks differently and is still ready to give him love🥺I saw such a fic once, but your hands will make this idea much better, I know

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reaching out and that absolutely adorable request! Please let me know what you think, I hope you'll like it. Don't hesitate to reach out again🤍

Nanami hiding his scars from his girlfriend after surviving Shibuya

Pairing: Nanami x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,6k

Synopsis: basically the request above lol

Warnings: if you need some comfort this one's for you, so much fluff I'm gonna faint

Tags: @hellkaiserinphoenix @polarbvnny @obeythebutler

It was a ride on razor’s edge. Yes, the Shibuya incident turned your life upside down. The countless injuries, Gojo being sealed, so many deaths.

And the love of your life almost losing his very own life through the hands of curses.

“Where is he, Megumi?”

“(y/n)…”

Your eyes filled with tears, that unwell feeling in your guts proved itself right all over again. You knew things weren’t going right when your boyfriend stopped replying. But that…Seeing Maki and that old man like that…

That was so much worse that you thought.

“Where. Is. He.”, you hissed through gritted teeth, the boy in front of you almost drowning in his own sweat.

“He’s back at Jujutsu High. When I last saw him…Things weren’t going well for Nanami…I…I don’t know if he’s still alive…”

You felt like fainting, throwing up, beating everything and everyone, crying in the corner. How? How did this happen? Your husband, a grade 1 sorcerer, so skilled that his sheer presence sends shivers down the spine of his opponents…Your fucking boyfriend.

On the brick of death?

Yes, it was a true blessing that he barely made it. Since that fateful day, you were on his side night in night out, talking him through the silence, holding his hand while Shoko changed his bandages. Until eventually, he was able to return back home. Back to your shared apartment, back into your normal everyday life.

But it was far away from being like it was before Shibuya. No, something inside Kento changed so drastically that you sometimes feel like you don’t know him anymore.

“Hey sweetheart”, he greets you softly, arms embracing you in a tight hug.

“Good morning”, you mumble, stretching out your longing arms to feel him a little closer.

Just before your hands are able to hold onto his biceps, he turns away again and leaves you alone in the bed. You stare at his covered back, sadness washing over you like a wave. Silently he stands up, busying himself with his wardrobe while all you can do is watch him closely in an desperate attempt to stop yourself from crying.

You have no idea when was the last time since you saw your boyfriend in a t-shirt, let alone shirtless. Since his burns aren’t covered in bandages anymore and his skin seems to be entirely healed into a scar, he hides his body from your hungry gaze very well. But why? This has to come to an end, right here and now.

You lift yourself off the bed, hugging his much larger frame from behind. God, it feels so good to press your head against his tight muscles, his delicious taste making you feel whole again.

It was hard to bear, the thought of losing him. Even days after he got burned to severely, Shoko wasn’t entirely sure if he’ll be able to make it. It became obvious that if he’ll survive, he will have to live with his left side covered in scare tissue for the rest of his life. And while your love for him and his body grew only stronger, you feel like this doesn’t apply to him. Yes, something inside you tells you that his change in behaviour might have something to do with that.

Why does he wear long-sleeved shirts all the time, while does he not allow you to see and feel his naked skin anymore, why does he seem to always turn away the left side of his face from you? It truly breaks your heart, knowing that he seems to have lost his self-confidence after surviving such a traumatic incident.

“Don’t turn away from me, love.”

Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, silently begging him to stay this one time, to allow your touch after months of turning you down.

“(y/n)”, he protests, body already on its way to shield itself from your longing hands.

“Why hiding from me when all I see is you?”, you question, hands intertwining with his.

“I’m not good enough for you.”

Softly, he pushes you away, walking into the living room while you try to process his words. Him, not good enough for you?

“Why would you even suggest something like that? Kento, please stop.”

Out of instinct you go after him, mind racing in thoughts. What is all of this about?

“You are such a stunning woman, your whole life is still ahead of you. Why waste your time with a scarred man like me? I have nothing to give you, (y/n). Not even beauty.”

You can’t believe your ears, mouth snapping open in pure shock.

“You have to be joking”, you breathe out, head shaking vehemently.

This is wrong in so many ways, almost an insult against humanity. Why would he say something so ridiculous?

“Look at me, (y/n)”, he blurts out.

With a swift motion he takes off his blue shirt, revealing the huge scar that covers the left side of his upper body entirely. His face darts towards you, completely twisted in agony.

“Why would a woman like you want a man like me? I don’t deserve your beauty, (y/n).”

“Stop it. Right now”, you reply so harshly that his mouth shuts in an instant.

With fast steps you cross the room, coming to a stand in front of his gorgeous body.

“This is the body of the man I love, of a man that fought hard in order to save countless people’s life. This is the body of the man I thought I’ve lost forever, the body of a man who always puts the well-being of others above his own. You, Kento Nanami, are the man I love. Even if you lost all your limbs, if you could no longer speak or see. Damn, even if you didn’t remember me, I would always choose you. Because you are the man who stole my heart entirely. These scars tell the story of what a brave man you are, what you survived despite everything spoke against it. I love every inch of your skin, no matter how scarred or wrecked.”

Your fingertips wander over his uninjured skin.

“From the part that I’ve touched so often…”

Slowly, you caress the scarred tissue on his right side, brushing over his shoulder, collarbone and buff chest while never taking your eyes off him.

“…to the part I have yet to discover.”

“Look at me, I am a crippled man. I look like someone out of a horror movie-“

“You look like a hero to me”, you interrupt him immediately.

It’s hard to keep your composure when the man you love more than anything else in this world stands in front of you with his face twisted in agony. God, if he only knew how beautiful he is, how you feel even closer to him since the Shibuya incident. Why isn’t he able to see himself through your eyes, why does he have to suffer even after surviving his burns?

“Why can’t you understand that you’re all that I want?”

Your voice cracks, tears now streaming down your face. The sheer thought of losing him alone makes you die from the inside. No other man will ever be able to replace him. Why would you leave Kento anyway? He still looks absolutely irresistible to your hungry gaze, the way his tight muscles flex underneath his shirts making your knees go weak just like always. And that scars just add to your affection towards him.

“Please, don’t hide from me. Let me love you with your scars and everything else. In my eyes, you will always be the man I fell in love with.”

And for the first time since knowing him, you the grown man in front of you break down in tears. His arms wrap around you hungrily, pressing you against his own body as if you’re air and he can’t breathe. Yes, you are the light to his darkness, the sun after rain. What would he do without you? Where would he be without you by his side? Through all these hellish weeks you stood with him, making sure he’s feeling well. Will he ever be able to thank you enough for that? Never.

“I love you more than words can say”, he breathes against your outer ear.

“God, how much I love you, (y/n)…”

“Please believe me when I say that I love you just the way you are, Kento. You will always be enough for me. A few scars won’t change that.”

His eyes lock with yours and there is no doubt that you are telling the truth. Yes, you really do love him the way he is. Even if his skin is scarred through the hands of fire, even if he’ll never look like the man you’ve met first. In the glimmer of your eyes he will always be Kento Nanami.

“So you’ll stay with me even though I look like this?”

You wrap your arms around him again, your head laying against his scarred chest. Oh, how much you missed the feeling of being skin to skin with him, how much your hungry gaze longed for him all bare.

“I’d say I even love you a little more since Shibuya”, you reply.

Gently, you cup his face with your hands. Yes, a few scars here and there won’t change the beauty you see within the man in front of you.

“You are my everything, (y/n).”

His lips brush against yours, arms caging you against his body.

God, how much you love that man. More than the entire earth.

[vacayisland]

Id be so happy if u could write some Branch x reader!! I love when he acts apathetic or like he doesn’t care but in the end will always end up helping the people he cares for. And has a weakness for the one he loves. Secretly insecure but loves looking for ways to impress them.

I dont have anything in particular to ask for, just would love to see some more branch x reader content!

@!; Bakin' with Love! Branch / Baker! Reader

"Summary"! In which Branch met Poppy's baker friend at the grand opening of their bakery and has a self realizing moment. "Tags!" Fluff :( I love Branch so much, he deserves so much better.

@!; "Oh come on Branch!" Branch was, reluctantly, following Poppy across Troll Village; Well, in fact, he was being more tugged along than anything, as Poppy was basically trying to sprint while Branch did his best to keep up, despite being unamused at the lack of explanation he has received. It was, usually, never a good thing when Poppy was dragging him off to some unknown direction. Branch has learnt that from experience, "Poppy! Where are we even going?" And that seemed to get Poppy to stop, digging her feet into the ground as she spun around to look at Branch. Which set him off, coiling away a little as he took in the shocked, jaw-dropping, exaggerated look Poppy held. Did he forget a holiday, an anniversary, a birthday? Branch didn't know, nor did he know of anything special happening on this specific day. There wasn't anything in his colander, which spans the next few years. He hasn't heard anything by mouth of other Trolls, which were always excited to word vomit about anything that might be happening the next day. So Branch only shrugged when Poppy asked, waving her arms around to emphasis her question, "Branch! Do you not know what today it?"

Which seemed to make Poppy ever so more shocked, which was slightly amusing. Though Branch also knew in the next 5 seconds Poppy was going to explode and basically word vomit what was happening to him; in an over-the-top way that he had to learn how to listen to. More like how to break down and make sense of, because sometimes Poppy made no sense when she just pukes words. "Branch!! Troll village is finally getting a Bakery and one of my very, very good friends is opening it! It's the same person who usually makes the cupcakes or cakes or baked good for any of the parties we have thrown recently. They're an amazing baker and it's always been their dream to open a bakery! I cannot believe you haven't heard about this, it's all everyone has been talking about." And there Poppy went, right on time, waving her arms and yelling with the most excited tone in her voice. "A bakery?" Though that wasn't the answer Branch had expected, and he couldn't help but cross his arms and cock an eyebrow up at Poppy. "You're dragging me across the village for a bakery?" "Not just ANY bakery Branch! This is the a bakery by the best baker in the village!" Branch snickered a little at Poppy's excitement, the way she bounced on his toes. He rolled his eyes, knowing and expecting, Poppy to grab his wrist again so they could b-line it for the bakery. "And she's opening today and we cannot miss getting her double fudge, triple chocolate, licorice cupcakes! Oh, oh! Oh her glitter ball cupcakes or- OR ANYTHING!" And Branch, again, was right as Poppy grabbed his wrist and began to rush over to the other side of the village; dragging Branch over to a little half-stand and pod-like building on the ground. There was already a crowd formed around the entrance and inside, with other Trolls sitting around and eating baked goods they had gotten. Branch watched the trolls and their desserts, noticing a wide arrange of different pastries. Some on the more simple side and others more complex, such as cupcakes, brownies, cakes, bread, croissants, and even chocolate souffle. Now that made Branch do a double take, not having expected such a high-skilled dessert coming out from a bakery that just opened. "AH! Branch, this is so exciting!" Poppy was basically jumping up and down on her toes, grinning from ear to ear. And she wasn't the only one who shared the excitement. As Viva, who seemed to come out of no where, popped up besides Poppy with the widest grin. Branch had to coil back a bit, scrunching his nose, as Viva squealed along side Poppy, "I KNOW RIGHT!" "Hey, this is different!" Floyd, with Clay in tow, walked over to Branch, Viva, and Poppy; seeming to have been following Viva before she rushed off to her sister. "It's a bakery," Branch couldn't help but shrug as the line moved forward. "So many trolls can bake, or poop out baked goods. I don't really see the fuss about it." "Well, one it's actually the first bakery we have in the village-" Floyd would start, hoping he could get his brother to understand the excitement a little better. Yet Floyd was cut off by Clay, though he didn't mind much, "And I've heard that their baking is like, THE best in all of Pop Troll village! Viva came back with a dozen of their cookies one time, I had to physically restrain myself from eating them all!" "Oh, great." Clay tilted his head at Branch's sarcasm. "You know anything anyone eats here is sweets, right? I mean it can't be that healthy." The group would reach the front of the line as Branch crossed his arms and shook his head, wondering why the village would need another output to feed such an addiction. Yet, he was only met with a hand on his shoulder from Floyd as Clay rushed forward to order alongside Poppy and Viva.

"Just be happy for everyone else, yeah?" And Branch softened a little, seeing Floyd's small smile and sincere eyes. His hard stance broke as Branch relaxed his shoulders for a moment before he shrugged softly and nodded in agreement. "Alright, yeah, okay." Branch mumbled, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Floyd and a slightly bigger smile before he turned to go order. Branch decided to hang back for a bit before he followed, standing next to Floyd as he watched Poppy and Viva basically drool over the confections behind the display case. They chattered and debated which sweets they should get, and whether or not they should just buy one of everything; which Clay was trying to disagree to, claiming it was a waste of money, yet it was obvious he also couldn't choose what to get. Floyd was the first to notice when Branch walked around behind everyone to stand behind Poppy and Viva to look into the display stand. He noticed there was some steam that rose from products, which he guessed where more fresh than others; though he could also deduct that they were all baked between yesterday and today seeing as the scent of everything was so fresh. "I think, for the most bang for your buck, you should get some of the cookies that are slowly crumbling or the ones under steam." Branch pointed out from behind the sister, which caused them to pause and glance over at him. Both confused yet intrigued at his answer. Poppy placed her hands on her hips, giving Branch a challenging look, "Branch! I didn't know you knew sweets!" Branch only shrugged, "Well, the ones still steaming are likely the freshest, and the ones slowly crumbling have a desirable texture of a soft cookie. They're stiff enough on the outside to hold their shape but soft on the inside where they're slowly breaking, a nice balance." "And here I thought you were a crunchy cookie type of man." Viva added, pointing up and down at Branch. Yet they couldn't speak for long, as the back door of the bakery, which separated the kitchen from the front floor, swung open and a Troll carrying a cooling rack of sweets rushed in. They apologized for the wait, not taking a moment to look up, before they opened the display case and slid in the hot batch of cookies. When they finally looked up to greet everyone with a, "Hello! Welcome to Pop's Cookies, my name is (Y/N), how may I help you?" They stopped mid-sentence upon seeing Poppy and Viva, in which the three would share an excited squeal. "Oh my god Poppy! Viva! Hello you two." You exclaimed from behind the counter, moving around the display case and towards the register. Poppy and Viva would follow, "What are you doing here?! I thought I told you two that you didn't have to come!" "Did you really think we wouldn't come to support you?" Poppy quipped as Branch noticed the gleam in your eye. For some reason it made him pause and stare, so much so he didn't realize his brothers coming to stand near him. Floyd softly spoke to Clay about getting a strawberry shortcake brownie slice as Clay tried pitching that he was going to get an almond-cherry explosion cookie. Though they both knew that Clay would much prefer a cherry-lime cheesecake, yet was trying to keep up his 'professional' attituded. "Oh! (Y/N), have you meet Branch?" Poppy's voice pulled Branch out from his thoughts, causing him to blink and shake his head a little. That's when he noticed all eyes being on him. Well this was awkward... and he had to save it. "Hey!" Branch waved his hand once, giving you the only type of smile he could muster on such a short notice. In which, he could tell was a little odd and off, seeing as Poppy and Viva started at him a overly questioning look. While you, you stared at him with a quizzical look; Tilting your head to the side, as you stared at him like you were trying to read the very structure of his being. It was off putting how he felt like you could see right through him and at the same time see him. Branch glanced at Poppy for some sort of help, but she gave him a nervous smile and waved him off.

Branch tried to gulp back his nerves, wondering if he was being tested on his reaction or if you were simply judging him for not being as excited as everyone else about your bakery. It's not like he didn't support it or anything, he just wasn't the overly outward excited type and he hoped someone would explain that. And Branch saw Floyd glance over, seeming ready to say something or hopefully stand up for him. Yet he didn't seem to have to after a big grin grew on your face, "Say, Branch, you look like a soft double chocolate chip cookie with a fudge center type of guy to me! Would you like one? "Oh- uh- sure!" Branch answered with a small smile, somehow feeling rather relaxed despite his earlier anxieties. Though he did notice the shocked look from the others, you didn't seem shocked or disturbed he had agreed. In fact you seemed proud, for whatever reason, as you quickly grabbed a bag, fluffed it open, grabbed a wax paper and opened the case. You mulled over which cookie to select for a moment before taking the one you deemed as 'perfect' and began to bag it. "Braanch!" This is when Poppy spoke up, "You like double chocolate with a fudge center? How come you never told me!" And to that, Branch only shrugged his shoulders once more, "You never asked, Poppy." Branch explained as he walked over to the counter and accepted the bagged cookie. Later, when everyone had ordered and they decided to take a seat inside, Branch took out his cookie and couldn't help but look at it for a moment. Everyone around him was laughing and talking, eating their sweets at the same time, and he couldn't help but feel oddly seen. And by a complete Troll never the less. Usually people assumed he would like hard cookies, or the boring almond and nuts. Usually people assumed a lot about him because he was so different, and despite your slightly unsettling stare you had correctly guessed one of his favorite cookies. One he didn't even realize you had baked every time Poppy brought a dozen over to his bunker. So then that brought up another question in Branch. Did you just correctly guess his favorite cookie or did you remember it from the countless times Poppy (most likely) told you. Either way, why and how? That's probably what confused Branch the most. It's what made him turn around in his seat and look at you, watching as you served another costumer. A chipper smile on your face and an excited gleam in your eye. You weren't doing that guessing game or glare to anyone else. . . was he somehow special? Nah, probably not. But it did make him think as he took a bite into the cookie you had given him. Maybe he should come back tomorrow and talk to you about it. Yeah talk to you about the incident and for nothing else. Just clear up the air and all. Yeah... and maybe get another cookie.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[lilislegacy]

The way haters just boil Annabeth's character to just insulting Percy and not seeing theres more to her really shows how much they dont get her. Honestly Percy would hate them for this...

thanks for the ask @emilia9622!

agreed completely. like if you want to dislike a character, go for it. but don’t lie to yourself. don’t base it all off of one thing or flaw and make it 100x bigger than it is.

for instance, i don’t like luke. but it’s for a multitude of reasons. he knowingly betrayed all his friends several times, fought a deadly war against them, and intentionally poisoned the camp. he was percy’s first friend at camp and was a mentor to him, but had no issues lying to him and deceiving him. he literally was fine with the idea of 12 year old little percy being dragged down to tartarus. he also let annabeth be kidnapped and forced to hold up the world. when he finally saw thalia alive, he fought her and tried to harm her. yes i know that there is very complex trauma and history that led to all his actions, and i really do feel so bad for him, but i can’t respect someone who betrays his close friends like that. no matter what. i could go on and on, and don’t get me started about him having romantic feelings for annabeth… UGH. but that said, i understand why people love his character. he’s complex and has a lot of really good history. he also has a wonderful, yet tragic, redemption at the end. he really deserved better. i don’t have love for him, but his character deserves love. i’m happy that there are people to love him so that i don’t have to, because i have personal reasons for not liking him. i think luke is an amazingly well written character and i think rick wrote him beautifully. the truth is, besides the singular part where he admitted he had feelings for annabeth, i wouldn’t change anything about him or his story. so personally, i don’t like him, but i think he’s a great character and objectively, i can see why people love him.

it’s okay to dislike a character. but don’t pick their biggest flaws, strip away all the good parts of the character, and fool yourself into believing that’s all they are. (and then continue to go on tumblr and scream about how toxic and terrible the character is 🙄)

this is what “people can’t handle complex characters” actually means. people often throw that phrase around. people say that about readers not liking jason all the time, but the truth is, people are fully entitled to not like jason. it doesn’t make sense to me, because i LOVE jason. he’s my cutie patootie. but the people who dislike him simply don’t like him. they don’t usually make him out to be someone he’s not, they just don’t like him for who he is. they often just don’t find him interesting enough to break down the more complex parts of his character. it breaks my heart, and i don’t understand, but that’s okay. they just don’t like him. there’s nothing else to it. most annabeth haters, however, make her out to be someone she’s not and then proceed to hate on that one self-generated version of her. it’s so toxic. THAT is not being able to handle a complex character

no, annabeth is not perfect. if she was, she would be unrealistic, and people would hate her for that too. yes, she has excessive pride. she tends to think herself above others, and yes that even includes percy at times. but you know what? she admitted to having that issue all the way back in book 2. she was literally 13 when she explained to percy what hubris is and how it’s her biggest downfall. she’s a self aware queen. she knows it’s an issue and she works hard to correct it in little ways and make sure the people around her, especially percy, know she values them and their opinions. anyone who read the heroes of olympus series unbiased and got to read her POV knows that annabeth holds percy in the highest regard. she respects the hell out of him. even though sometimes she says things that aren’t nice, she doesn’t truly feel that way and always corrects it in some way. she’s not selfish, she’s just tragically intelligent, and it naturally gives her a bit of a complex. it wouldn’t make sense if it didn’t.

and i love her for it. the fact that she has a real flaw that can affect relationships, but that she is self aware of and actively works on, makes her legit one of my favorite characters ever. she’s SO realistic.

but people take that one flaw and make it her whole character. they call her cold and harsh, when in reality she’s one of the most warm and sensitive people in the series. she takes care of her friends. she’s strong and she’s often the leader, but it’s because she’s so loving and kind all the time. she works hard and looks out for everyone. she makes friends fast for a reason. she’s a wonderful person. she’s so, so sweet, and it breaks my heart that people choose to take that away from her.

anyway, sorry i just word vomited so much. basically i agree 100%.

[juneknight]

Hand Covers Mouth

Kink: sex pollen/aphrodisiac

About this: Takes place during canon events, Steven/fem!reader, Marc/fem!reader.

*

Let’s split up, Layla had said. She tacked on a hurried, ‘You with Steven? Be careful!’ before nearly sprinting off down a tunnel, leaving you (her scowling friend) and Steven (a mesmerized puppy) alone in a sandy tomb.

Look, you understood it was complex. Steven shared a body with her (soon to be? Possibly?) ex-husband, after all; but in your mind, that gave her even more of a reason to be the one responsible for him. Absently, your hand reaches down to lay your palm on the holster where your gun rests. You have no doubt that Harrow’s minions would kill without qualm. While you would not find it so easy to digest, you would do whatever you had to, to keep yourself safe.

To keep Steven safe. No matter what—

“What are you doing?” you ask at a frantic whisper. Steven is barely visible in the darkness where he is brushing sand and dust, centuries of time away from the hieroglyphics on the wall.

He glances back over his shoulder at you, giving you his typical expression of an adorable animal who fears they are about to be on the receiving end of a harsh kick in the rump, but who is so thrilled by their own discovery that they hardly care. He points to the wall.

“Reading these hieroglyphics,” says Steven. “Think they might be important.”

You glance toward the wall. You are not like Steven or Layla, able to read the symbols. You did not have the same practical and personal education which they had so tediously earned for themselves over the years. At the base of the wall sits a gilded table, the bottom of each leg morphing into the paw of some great cat. Some of the items around it are unrecognizable, turned to rubble, after so many years. But resting on top of it, there are a set of neat little figurines inlaid with moldavite, glittering black in the darkness.

“You don’t think—the ushabti?”

“Not likely,” Steven admits with a frown. “But some of the wall has crumbled here, can’t make out the rest, can I? It does say that this is powerful. Maybe we should take these to Layla and have her look at them.”

You fight the urge to scowl again. Layla. Steven was always trailing after Layla…

Alright, perhaps you had another reason for being so sour at Steven’s mention of your closest friend. How could you help being enamored with him, with his big brown eyes, with his undying enthusiasm, with his gentle heart and scathing wit? But Steven didn’t look at you like that. He was always too busy looking at Layla.

When you look at him, the expression of hope on his face is painful. You do your best to bite back any sarcastic or caustic replies. He truly doesn’t deserve them. It isn’t his fault he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“We don’t have time to hunt down Layla with every artifact we find,” you remind him gently. “And we don’t have time to search every little artifact for significance, either.”

He leans against the wall, like some suave Don Juan from a movie.

“Life’s about stopping to smell the roses, love, or stopping to find the roses if no roses immediately present—oh—oh bugger.” Steven slips, more of the wall crumbling away beneath the weight of his elbow. He stumbles into the little golden table—and off go all three of the little figurines, smashing into brittle pieces on the stone floor, the sound deafening in the silence around you.

“Oh my gods,” Steven says, both hands coming up to clutch at his curls. “Oh no, I deserve prison. Oh look what I’ve done—these were thousands of years old and I just destroyed them—”

“Steven—” Your words die in your throat. Your heart begins to race, breathing becoming fast and shallow. He looks up at you from where he has knelt on the floor in anxious guilt over the figurines, and you see something in his eyes which you can’t identify. Something sharp. Something hungry.

Then he blinks.

In the distance, you hear the sound of voices calling, none of them the familiar timber of Layla. He reaches out with the reflexes of a snake and grabs you around the waist, dragging you down to his position. One hand—warm, tasting faintly of sweat and sand—clamps over your mouth as he drags you back against his body, making both of your positions smaller as you hide behind a pillar.

Against your back, he is hard.

“Quit it,” he hisses lowly in your ear, and that’s when you realize that it isn’t Steven at all. That posh British accent has dissolved into something relaxed and loose, a Chicagoan accent that you’ve never heard before but would recognize anywhere. Marc. His words register secondarily, and you realize that you are writhing against him, literally arching your back to try to rub your aching cunt against the hard line of his cock.

A whine slips past his hand, and he lets out an angry, shaking breath against the crook of your neck. His free hand reaches around and slips right down the front of your pants. By the time he is cupping your sex with his broad palm, you are soaking wet, aching, already working towards that blissful crest even with the only stimulation being in your own mind.

“It must have been an aphrodisiac,” Marc whispers, barely audible over the raging pulse in your ears. “If I give you some fingers, can you be quiet until they’re gone?”

You nod, exaggeratedly. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. You just know that you would say anything, agree to anything to have any one of his fingers inside you.

He gives you two. You cum straight away, eyes rolling back, pussy clenching around his digits tightly. Marc gives a choked breath at the sensation of your walls squeezing and squeezing his fingers. His hips work once, twice, three times against the curve of your ass and then he stiffens himself, a breathless, nearly inaudible sound of pleasure passing through his lips.

The sweetest fucking sound you’ve ever heard.

The voices in the distance begin to fade away—the sweetest silence.

Then you have a mouthful of sand, Marc’s hand between your shoulder blades pinning you into the ground. You hear the clinking of his belt as he frantically tries to loosen it, and you wiggle your hands beneath you looking for the fasten of your own pants.

“Didn’t want it to go like this,” he says through clenched teeth. You can’t even imagine his expression: something hard and desperate. You wonder if he took over for Steven forcefully or if Steven retreated, anxious at the potent desire that the aphrodisiac evoked in him. “Didn’t want our first time to be like this—”

“Is he okay?” you whisper, working your pants and underwear down at once, arching your back for him. He still has on his boxers, but he’s grown desperate: hands gripping your hips, thighs snapping against the back of your own as he simulates sex with you. Marc makes a perplexed sound. Fuck, his cock feels good, even covered by soft cotton that you’re drenching with your own slick. You struggle for a moment to remember your question. “Steven—is he okay?”

“Steven is—fucking great,” Marc says, laughing a little derisively. “Trust me. Steven’s been wanting to fuck you since the moment he saw you. There’s a little place in my head where’s he’s beating off furiously, I’m sure—”

“You’re such a dick,” you gasp.

“I’ll show you dick, gonna give you mine,” he mutters through his teeth, finally working down his boxers. “Gonna fuck that girlish expression you give Steven all the time right off your face, gonna make it so every time you look at him, you’re thinking about how good my cock fills you.”

“His cock,” you breathe, arching your back more, fingers curling in the sand and scratching the stone beneath. “His cock too.”

“Yeah yeah,” says Marc testily, finally resting the head of his cock at your entrance. He slips in with one devastating, life-changing thrust. “We’ll test that theory when I let him out for his turn.”

[sephirthoughts]

Vincent’s lingering obsession with Lucrecia is excellent drama, but their story is not a doomed romance.

This is an unpopular opinion, but I don’t think Lucrecia deserves nearly as much pity and excusing of her actions as she gets. This is not character-hate post, it's an analysis of a character I think gets short shrift as a Mother-Mary in a bell jar, and deserves better.

Lucrecia is morally grey. Charcoal grey. I love complex, morally grey characters, particularly when they're women, since usually women are relegated to roles that infantilize and objectify them, particularly in video games, which have historically been a very backward, androcentric medium. I strongly dislike brainless victims, subject to the whims of the male characters, without much agency, and Lucrecia was not such a character.

Lucrecia was an adult with agency and brains. She was a grown ass adult. She was a brilliant scientist. She made decisions with her eyes open, and even sacrificed her unborn child to her work. She is a very interesting character. The fact that she didn't idolize motherhood as the end-all of female existence, and that her obsession with her work was stronger than her desire to be a 'good mother' makes her far more interesting than otherwise. The fact that she regretted it later and wanted him back doesn’t magically make her a good person, or change the choices she made. It demonstrates guilt and remorse, which are part of character development. The bottom line is that she committed atrocities in the name of science, then felt guilty about it later, once she realized how devastating the consequences were to her personally. To say she didn’t know what she was doing or Hojo manipulated or controlled her is to infantilize and disrespect her character. She’s not some sacrificial angel who was a victim of circumstances; she was a willing participant in her own downfall.

Lucrecia is a tragic character, but she's not a romantic lead. Except in Vincent's head. After all was said and done, she had one of those too-late changes of heart that make tragedy so emotionally impactful. She had a human reaction to Vincent's death and felt terribly guilty for her role in all of it, as she should. That doesn't mean she loved him, it means she wasn't a monster. She lost her son, and gradually, Hojo's callous inhumanity and her inability to escape the net she wove with her own hands closed in on her. Did she deserve to never hold her baby son and never see him even once? No. But she caused it, with her own actions. That's tragedy. She was miserable, bereft, and riddled with guilt, so she made a last-ditch effort to make something right...by doing more insane science shit that turned Vincent into a monster. Seeing that she'd only made everything worse, she tried to kill herself, but was unable to, and thus ran off to become a crystal statue in a cave (this is a trope that I dislike, but that's the story, so that's what we've got).

Vincent is a bad judge of the circumstances. Vincent persists in seeing her as a lost love, and someone from whom he was unjustly separated by circumstances. The fact that he is so blinded by his feelings for her that he places her on this pedestal and can't blame her for what she did is excellent characterization, and I love it, but it's because he’s wrong. He loved her. She didn’t love him (I think she was in love with his father, but that's just icing on the tragedy cake, at this point). His lingering attachment, not to the real Lucrecia, but to the idealized version of her he has in his mind, is a very sad reality that adds so much delicious pain to his character. In the end, he is unable to blame her, because he loved his image of her (and Hojo is a way easier target for anger, because he's literally the worst), which speaks far more to his personal bias in the situation than to her actual role in it. She’s not moustache-twirlingly evil like Hojo but she’s not Vincent's star cross'd soul mate tragically torn away by cruel fate. Lucrecia was her own person.

In summation. Their story is not a doomed romance, it's a complicated, messy, ugly tangle of thorns, and one of the best written tragedies in a game that literally bleeds tragedy from every orifice. It's got one-sided love, obsession, mad science, betrayal, jealousy, fetal experimentation, murder, corpse reanimation, and a guy who can't die, and is left to deal with the consequences of everyone else's actions by himself forever. No one is innocent and no one comes out unscathed…strike that. Vincent is innocent and Hojo comes out unscathed. But still. Lucrecia is not a holy mother, she's not a brainless victim, and she's not Vincent's lost love. She's a person he loved, and who didn't reciprocate. Most importantly, she's a person. A whole-ass, complex, morally grey, fully developed person, who made terrible choices, then made even worse choices, and in the end, couldn't escape the fate she wove for herself.

And then wound up encased in crystal so she could be a pretty statue forever cause the game devs just couldn't help themselves I guess.

[hnychn]

I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME

SUMMARY — If there is anything that is universally acknowledged to be wholly true and incontestable, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything in the world. But does she know that?

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i got into a huge argument with my father a while back and it’s been weighing on my conscience. this series is largely based on our relationship and it’s been so therapeutic to write everything out and indirectly give myself an ending i want. the series isn’t complete, if anything, it’s no where near done. i want to make sure everything is perfect before i even think about posting the first chapter. its been so long since i’ve felt this strong need to write and i forgot how much of a beautiful feeling it is. everywhere i look and everything i see gives me so much inspiration for this series. but for now, here’s a little sneak peak of my new child.

(i am him as he is me spotify playlist)

SERIES WARNINGS — heavy religious themes, female reader, sugugeto, heavy angst, child abuse, childhood neglect, reader is a brat in the beginning, reader is assumed to be a person of color…

TOTAL WORD COUNT — tbd…

BEFORE YOU READ — the reader is mentioned to be a third year at jujutsu tech, and i completely understand the ages and time line don’t add up, but for the sake of creativity, let’s all just pretend it makes sense and ignore the age inconsistencies. <33 thank you!! <33

PREVIEW —

The rhythmic buzz of the cicadas and the sweltering humidity of the summer air marked the beginning of summer and the end of… everything. Satoru could feel the material of his pants begin to stick to his legs the longer he sat on the rotting wooden bench. The train tracks before him were rusted and old; they had weathered the storm of time and had the marks to prove it. These tracks were the end. The led you to the beginning. All Satoru had to do was wait.

—

“Maybe it was because I knew she would always come back to me. Maybe I was testing her love for me. Maybe I wanted to push her away before she pushed me away.”

“That’s a lot of maybes.”

“There’s a lot of regret.”

Satoru could still feel the weight of that nostalgic love and regret in his stomach. It has buried itself so deep within him, he’s hardly sure anything would make it go away. The woman next to him looks different now; youthful, free. Satoru wants that. But does he deserve it?

I AM HIM, AS HE IS ME [MASTERLIST]

— CHAPTER ONE: “He Doesn’t Know I Learned it From Him.”

Gojo Satoru, in all aspects, is a God reborn. He holds the world and its universes in the palm of his flaming hand; unknowingly burning everything he holds dear.

— CHAPTER TWO: “I Was a Girl Gulping a Woman’s Grief.”

With an emotionally distant mother and a father plagued with a god complex, there weren’t many people you could look up to. maybe, you have to look down.

— CHAPTER THREE: “Do You Believe Me When I Tell You I’m Trying to be Better?”

With tensions at an all-time high, it’s hard to ignore what has gone neglected for so long. Dams are broken and feelings are hurt, but if there’s one thing everyone knows, it’s that Gojo Satoru loves his daughter more than anything. But does she know that?

— CHAPTER FOUR: “The Unbearable Lightness of Being.”

There is nothing more heroic than the sacrifices made by a mother. But what is born of those sacrifices made? Virtue? Honour? Strength? You knew the answer to that question all too well: Guilt.

— CHAPTER FIVE: “Desperation Sits Heavy on my Tongue.”

You and your father are more alike than either of you are led to believe. He doesn’t reach. You don’t beg. Where does the tension snap?

— CHAPTER SIX: “Through Heaven and Earth, I Alone am the Honoured One.”

Hymns were sung at his birth and prophecies were written for his future, in all aspects, Gojo Satoru was a god reborn. But who is a God to a little girl searching for her father?

[smoochkooks]

—chapter twenty: this hope is treacherous

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, smut

word count: 2.4k words summary: it is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. but for a while, you did.

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Jungkook [Thursday, May 3rd, 05:32 pm]

How did it go? Soojin says everything’s fine between you

Want to grab bulgogi on Saturday? Same place as usual

Jungkook [Saturday, May 5th, 01:05 am]

Is everything alright? You haven’t been answering my texts

Jungkook [Saturday, may 5th, 03:45 pm]

Can I call you?

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th, 9:33 am]

Are you sick? Do you need something? I can drop by later today after work

I’m worried

Why are you not responding????

YN?

You [Wednesday, May 9th 06:15 pm]

Jungkook, sorry I have been MIA this past few days. I needed some time to think and I decided I want to keep some distance between us from now on.

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  06:23 pm]

What are you talking about? I thought we were good.

Did Soojin say something to you?

You  [Wednesday, May 9th  06:25 pm]

No, nothing happened. Soojin accepted my apology and she decided to move on, as I think we all should.

It was solely my decision and I need you to respect it

One missed call from: Jungkook

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  06:26 pm]

You won’t even answer my calls?

Come on YN, this is ridiculous

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th  08:15 pm]

Fine. I’ll respect your decision. Can I at least talk to you in person about it?

Please

“You’ve been staring at your phone for the past ten minutes, babe. Jungkook’s not going jump out of it, you can calm down for a sec.” Dahyun says from her place on your couch.

It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays for Dahyun are reserved for self-care, which often means trying out new face mask recipes she saw on TikTok. And since, as she stated a long time ago, “You’re my bestest friend, ever, ___” you are obligated to take part in it as well. If you refuse to participate, you should gear up for the Cheong Dahyun’s wrath.

That’s why you’re currently soaking your feet in a mixture of soap, bathing oils and a secret ingredient Dahyun doesn’t want to disclose, with a hydrating sheet mask on your face.

You lock your phone and throw it to the other side of the couch. “I should probably just ignore him completely.”

Dahyun rips off her sheet mask in a way too dramatic manner and turns to look at you. “And let that she-devil win? Fuck, no!” she blurts out.

You snort. “She-devil?”

“I would call her the b-word but I’m trying to cut down on derogatory terms when referring to women, even those who deserve to be called that,” she explains, massaging her neck with the sheet mask’s oily residue. “Anyway, I think you should tell Jungkook the truth. She’s manipulating both you and him!”

“If a say a word to Jungkook, she’s going to write a post on her social media and not only expose me, but also accuse of having an affair with him.” you reason.

“Just tell Jungkook she’s threatening you. He’s going to see right-through her bullshit, leave her alone and be with you,” Dahyun shrugs like your predicament isn’t complex at all, and motions for you to take your feet out of the water. She tosses you a white towel and hands an opaque container. “Now put that onto your feet. Girls on TikTok are saying they will feel like heaven. And smell like lavender too!”

You scoop the cream onto your nail and sigh. “It’s not that easy. She is his wife and he loves her, of course he will take her side. He might not even believe me,” you say. Your eyebrows involuntarily rise, inhaling the cream’s scent. “It does smell like lavender.”

Dahyun makes ‘I told you so’ face before replying, “You’ve got twenty years of friendship on her.”

 “And unrequited crush, and a whole book about it.” you point out.

“I forgot how complicated your life has become these days,” Dahyun says, shaking her head. “So what? You’re just going to give up? Ignore his messages, calls, don’t answer the door when he’s on the other side, hide in the bush when you’ll  randomly see him on the street and only contact him once a year for his birthday?” she asks.

Initially, your plan was to wait a few weeks after your confrontation with Soojin and eventually things would get back to normal, slowly and steadily. You’re used to being on stand-by, after all. But that was before you actually met up with her to talk. Before she’s threatened to reveal your biggest secret to the whole world. Variété would never grant you another book deal after such scandal. You would be ruined for good and blacklisted by every single publishing company in this country. You can’t risk your career like that. Not now, not when you’re already working on your new book and this time you decided to release it under your real name.

You think about your parents. What would they think about their daughter? Surely they would feel disappointed. Lastly, you think about Jungkook. If you let Soojin get away with her threats, you might lose Jungkook for good. And that would slowly kill you.

“Okay, fine. I will try to talk to him about it.” you finally decide.

Dahyun claps her hands. “I knew it! Gosh, You’re down bad for this man, aren’t you?” she asks, grinning.

“Stop teasing me or I’m going to cancel our next self-care Wednesday.”

She gasps. “You wouldn’t. I have gua-sha massages planned for that day.”

“Try me!”

You [Wednesday, May 9th 11:08 pm]

Okay. We can talk in person

Jungkook  [Wednesday, May 9th 11:09 pm]

I’m visiting Busan this weekend. Soojin has a business trip so I’ll be alone

Would you like to go with me?

You [Wednesday, May 9th 11:12 pm]

Busan is fine by me. I missed my parents

I will take the train though.

Jungkook [Wednesday, May 9th 11:13 pm]

See you there

“There she is! My lovely daughter!”

It’s the first thing you hear after getting off the train at the railway station in Busan. Your mum hugs you tight and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Your dad couldn’t leave work earlier today so I’m picking you up instead,” She puts her hands on your shoulders and eyes you carefully. The smile she was wearing just seconds ago leaves her face. “I can tell you haven’t been eating well! What have I told you? You need to eat or you won’t have any energy!”

There it is. The world could be on fire and your mom would still worry about you not eating enough. Twenty-something years have gone by, and she’s still relentlessly reminding you to do so.

You roll your eyes, as you always do. “What did you make for dinner, then?” you ask, opening the car’s trunk and putting your bag there.

Your mom’s mood instantly lights up. “Chicken soup and jajangmyeon, your favorite,” she answers and starts the engine. “By the way, Jungkookie is also at his parents’, he arrived yesterday. Why haven’t you come with him?”

“I had a meeting at the publishing company that I couldn’t postpone,” you lie. “I’m meeting him later today, though.”

“I can’t believe my daughter is going to be a published author so-hey, you idiot! Who gave you a driving license?!” she yells. The young driver raises his hand in apology and your mom huffs. “It’s always the young ones! Anyway, do you know that Jungkook never visits his parents with that wife of his? I’ve only seen her once, during their engagement party for the whole family. You know which one, they did a big barbecue in the backyard. She seemed nice then, but a bit too standoffish, don’t you think? She comes from money, right?”

“Yeah, her parents own a company in Seoul that distributes vegetables and fruits all over the country. They also export, I think.” you reply, staring at the busy streets of Busan. You would probably rather talk about sex with your mom than discuss Jungkook’s marriage life, but your mom is a busy-body and loves gossip too much to let that slide.

To say the last, Soojin’s father is a big name in the industry. Jungkook told you once that he had to attend a dinner with Soojin and her parents, hosted by the minister of agriculture. You remember how much Jungkook worried he might not fit in the family. Soojin grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth, attending private schools and going on vacations overseas. The summer after they officially had started dating, Jungkook worked two jobs so he could afford to go to Thailand with her. What was a standard for Soojin, was a hard-earned commodity for Jungkook.

Your mom whistles. “No wonder she doesn’t like coming here to Busan. Too posh for that, ha! And especially now, with two extra people in the house. Oh, ___, they are such cute babies! Everyone is head over heels for them.” she says, beaming.

You smile to yourself. Junghyun, Jungkook’s older brother, got married four years before him to his high school sweetheart and few months ago she got birth to twins. Knowing Jungkook, he’s probably spoiling them with presents every time he visits.

And speaking of the devil, you notice his car immediately as your mom pulls up to your driveway. With a heavy sigh, you brace yourself for what’s to come.

Four years ago, Junghyun’s wedding party

“So, my dear brother, when am I going to dance at your wedding?”

Junghyun was clearly drunk, his speech slurred as he wrapped his hands around Jungkook’s shoulders and gave him a loud kiss on the cheek. You giggled, positively buzzed yourself.

“I’m twenty-one and I just got back from the military. Let me live a little.” Jungkook grumbled and shoved his older brother away.

Really, it had been a little over two months now. His hair had grown into a nice length, the buzzcut long gone. He had gotten more buff, his dress shirt holding for dear life in some places. He’s matured, no longer a nineteen-year-old who had just finished high school but a grown adult.

Truth to be told, you missed him terribly.

Junghyun sat next to Jungkook, opened yet another soju bottle and poured a shot for each one of you. “To my beautiful wife Mina. I love you, honey!” he shouted and downed the alcohol. You could see Mina from across the room shaking her head with a soft smile playing on her lips. You grew up watching them fall for each other more and more with every passing day. If soulmates existed, Mina and Junghyun were definitely destined to be together.

“What about that birdie you’re dating now, huh? Sodam or something? Huh?” Junghyun asked, poking Jungkook in the ribs teasingly.

Jungkook’s already flushed cheeks, reddened ever more. “Her name’s Soojin and we are not dating. We went on one date,” he said sternly. “Besides, she’s out of my league. Her parents are super rich. Do you know she’s been to Paris this summer? She probably doesn’t know how cup noodles taste like!”

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing, then.” Junghyun shrugged his shoulders. He poured himself another shot of soju and looked at you, then at his younger brother, his face weirdly serious all of a sudden. “You know what I think?” he asked.

“I haven’t gained the ability to read your thoughts yet, hyung.”

Junghyun smacked Jungkook’s head. “Aish, who taught you to speak like that to your hyung?” You knew that, from the way Jungkook was biting his lips to refrain from laughing, that he wanted so badly to answer: “You did!”, but he decided to let Junghyun continue his drunken monologue. “I think that you and ___ will end up together one day.”

You tried to conceal your surprised expression with a chuckle. “Me and Jungkook? Please, I wouldn’t stand his ass.”

“Hey!”

Junghyun shook his head. “I’m serious. Best relationships, the ones that last years and years, are made out of friendship. Your partner should be your best friend! Look at our parents! Look at me and Mina! We’ve been friends throughout the whole middle school, tiptoeing around each other before one us decided to finally make a move. And now we’re married.” he said, his gaze longingly fixated on his wife. You dared to glance at Jungkook, thinking you’d find him amused by his brother’s drunken speech, but he was looking at Junghyun, not a hint of smile on his lips. “I think that it might take you a while to get there but eventually, I’ll dance at your wedding. And I’ll be really, really happy to do so.”

It is not a sign of maturity, to cling to someone’s drunken words so much. But for a while, you did. You replayed that moment over and over again in your head. You thought about Jungkook, his stoic expression while listening to his older brother. How he did not protest. How maybe, he could too imagine that happening. But then he went on another date with Soojin, and another. Started working extra hours to afford her lifestyle. Years gone by, and for some unknown reason, you still hold that memory close to your broken heart. 

[bruciemilf]

Now I’m thinking of Alpha Martha scooping in like “is anybody going to love and cherish that omega” and not waiting for an answer. She uses every Wayne gala to flaunt her Omega and later, pup in Carmine’s face. The only reason she hasn’t killed him yet is that seeing his rage and sad plans to get Thomas back is amusing and if it ever comes down to that Thomas deserves the honors.

Gosh, I’m starting to fall in love with that concept. Just imagine stern browed, lethally beautiful Captain Martha Kane, infamously known for her service in the military.

She reeks of bloodied snow, and sweet pomegranate with a note of petrichor. Of gunpowder, grainy and dark and rich, and of something so alluringly nameless Thomas can’t shake off.

The rumors about her hawk like gaze aren’t just rainwater.

Her look is made of storms and winter and Thomas shivers when he sees her for the first time, walking aimlessly around Gotham’s museum. His mother’s museum.

Carmine’s now, legally.

She stops just besides him, — she’s tiny, for an alpha, and he’s big for an omega, and for a moment, Thomas feels vindicated. So they had anomalies, too. Good. They earned it.

“Beautiful.”

She’s referring to the exhibit they’re admiring together. She has to be. Thomas stays quiet.

“What’s your opinion about it? I’ve visited her hundreds of times and I just can’t understand it. Not correctly, I think.”

He scoffs, but otherwise, the silence continues to expand.

Of course no Alpha understands The Good Omega.

Right above them, exposed almost proudly, imprisoned behind a thin layer of glass with rose gold framing, with delicate ivory marbled in, The Good Omega displays an omega women kneeling by her alpha.

It’s not intricate, or complex in composition. It translates well, and it’s just detailed enough.

Her mouth is sewn shut.

It’s a blood painting.

“She used to be an artist, I believe, “ Martha continues, with just the barest twitch of discomfort in her face, but she doesn’t allow her attention to shift. “I thought maybe you’d have a better perspective about it.”

“I’m not allowed to speak to you. As you well know.”

She pauses for a bit. “I apologize. You have no collar on. Your alpha didn’t pick one yet?”

He hums. “He can collar me when I’m in the ground.”

Oddly enough, that answer satisfies her. Pomegranate blossoms on his tongue.

“It’s freedom,” he continues, not really caring about customs. He already defies them daily. “It means freedom.”

Martha listens, but she huffs, half confused, half incredulous. “That doesn’t look like freedom to me. “

“That’s because you’re used to it,” He grits, turning his own gaze on her. He’s been told he smells horrible when he’s angry. He hopes this tiny, beautiful alpha chokes on it.

“Suffering is the only freedom omegas have. It forces you to look, to awknolege. There’s no exits The freedom of existing, that’s all we got.” He scoffs, not even noticing she’s clingy to every little sound.

“ Enjoy it while you can. Its going in the junkyard next week.”

“The junkyard?” She echoes, almost offended by the idea, but the casual insult. “Who’d throw away something like this, omega? It’s too valuable. “

Omega.

Thomas wants to purr and he rages, almost.

His smile is nasty, and full of teeth, and he’s grown to love how alphas cringe at the sight of it. Not this one, thought. This little beast stares at it like it’s living art.

“The same people you fight for. Thank you for your service, alpha.”

Thomas turns, not bothering to bow, excuse himself, or make a respectful exit. One good thing about being a rich omega is that he follows no rules his alpha doesn’t specify.

Nowhere did Carmine say he wasn’t allowed to ditch gorgeous alphas.

—

“You’re back rather early, Madame,” Alfred greets her with a kiss on one of her brow, soft as anything, his like tea, blueberry and dark chocolate scent hugging her deeply.

He takes a whiff of her, frowns, both in intrigue and concern. “…Why do you smell like unhappy omega?”

“Alfred,” She says, “I want to retire. Would you be a darling and contact my lawyer?”

“Oh, thank heavens. Anything else?”

Martha’s gaze bleeds blue, her thighs buzzing with the sneer of Thomas’ anger still, “Can you ask him if I can legally kidnap a taken omega?”

[badaziraphaletakes]

Ok ok last one i promise. But there’s one aspect of the Good Omens fan base that has always bugged me, and I hope i’ll be able to put it into words here:

I think some people have unfairly deemed Crowley as the “more queer” one because he acts more flamboyantly/fluidly/ more like stereotypical depictions of queer people. And don’t get me wrong, i absolutely LOVE seeing content where crowley’s gender or pronouns are ambiguous, or stuff that features she/her Crowley. But i do ✨not✨ like it when Aziraphale isn’t offered that same kind of fluidity.

Both of them are genderless beings, but because Aziraphale doesn’t fit some peoples’ standards for what a queer person is supposed to be like, I almost never see content where her gender/corporation-presenting is explored the way Crowley’s often is. And i just wish people would expand their definition of what being a queer/fluid/genderqueer person looks like.

Part of me also thinks that this is why fans pity Crowley much easier than they do Aziraphale: because people look at his trauma and see that he was officially rejected by religion and so that makes his journey more evocative of a typical story where a queer person is denounced by the church. And we excuse his actions because of that. But then you take a look at Aziraphale, who’s relationship with Heaven is more complex ‼️BUT JUST AS TRAUMATIZING‼️ than your average story, so he doesn’t get the same kind of compassion. in the end i think Crowley’s trauma is easier to process and see as a viewer, and so people trick themselves into thinking he is deserving of more forgiveness than Aziraphale is, which isn’t remotely fair because trauma looks different for everybody.

10/10. I have NO NOTES.

[sepublic]

In lieu of my latest reblog about people taking compelling characters and projecting their writing onto some other (usually white) dude, I want to bring up a post I had drafted all the way back from April, but never posted because at the time I still had enough patience not to. But now is different. I do think this analysis is a bit outdated because it doesn’t consider the mediocre white dude angle of Belos that I find paramount, but it’s good enough for my repurposed point.

-

            I find it funny when some people complain that the narrative was unfair to Belos despite his “trauma” and circumstances, like there aren’t multiple characters out there who parallel his issues, and get sympathy AND a redemption, in all but one case! Belos is narratively condemned not for what he has in common with others, but for what sets him apart, particularly his stubborn ego. Cases in point;

         “Belos deserved to have sympathy for having an unhealthy attachment to his more confident sibling that was mixed with resentment over being abandoned for someone else, culminating in guilt over hurting them and regretting it!”

         Lilith exists. She’s motivated by a massive inferiority complex with Eda, Gwen favors her. She’s clearly salty about Eda going off to have fun with Raine, and claims to Luz that she’s Eda’s ‘real’ family. She cursed her sister and felt enormous guilt over it… But in the end, Lilith IS given sympathy by the narrative, and the chance to redeem herself. And she takes just that.

         A lot of the people claiming Belos deserved better theorize that stabbing Caleb was an accident, and you know what? So was the permanence of Eda’s curse, Lilith expected it to only last a day and certainly not transform her sister. But Lilith still owned up. And she learned to make other friends while respecting Eda’s boundaries.

         “Belos was an orphan raised in a culture that encouraged genocide and a hatred of wild magic!”

         Caleb exists, he went through the exact same childhood as Philip, but still chose to change. And while they weren’t orphans at the time, Hunter and the Collector were also raised on genocide, taught to find wild/Titan magic apprehensive. But they loved it instead.

         “But Belos actually lost his brother, his loved one died!”

         So did Hunter’s! And he was shown to be snappy and aggressive, pouring himself into a mission to cope! But he still owned up, apologized to Willow for rebuking her. He lost Flapjack, and instead of making replicas of his lost loved one to keep to himself, discarding anyone that wasn’t close enough, Hunter made a diverse array of palismen for other kids, to give them the loving relationship he lost! Even his own palisman was clearly carved to be different from Flapjack, reminiscent but still their own thing.

         Then there’s Darius, who lost his mentor the previous Golden Guard; His own ‘Caleb’, so to speak! And he was also unpleasant about it, he took his grief out on Hunter, who had nothing to do with this! The canon audio diaries even confirm the apprehension has been going for a while… But Darius realized he was wrong to have projected onto Hunter, made up for this by practically adopting the kid and giving this kid the happy ending his mentor didn’t have; Passing the cycle of kindness the Golden Guard started. And his own grief is pointed out to the audience by Hunter himself.

         “They should’ve shown how having a hero complex and a desire to live out a fantasy can corrupt anyone!”

         Luz and the Collector. Luz herself makes these comparisons for Belos, and there were times where she hurt her friends trying to live out her fantasy, and/or planned to leave them under the impression she was doing the ‘right thing’. Luz makes a legitimate consideration that she could’ve been Belos, if she refused to listen to others and change. But Luz owned up! As did the Collector, whose escapism and wish to play the role of the ‘hero’, in this case Luz, causes them to do some pretty terrible things. But they still change after being called out, and are still given sympathy over the loneliness and trauma that fueled their escapism, as was Luz.

"Philip struggled with getting over a different type of fantasy, one that relied upon him conquering and hurting others!"

As did King! And King got over that, he quickly learned that other people would always be more important than his fantasies, even if the 'sacrifices' were a lot more minor. King started off the same, the difference is that he still grew up and that's why we judge his antics as so much more light-hearted.

         “Well that’s not fair, Philip’s examples were more extreme!”

         How about Eda’s curse? Belos never brings up his other sources of trauma as an excuse for his actions, but you know what he does invoke? His curse, claiming to Hunter and Luz that it forced him to act certain ways. But we see Eda, who got a rawer deal with her curse; She didn’t bring it upon herself, as Belos did. She legitimately loses control when it takes over. She scarred and disabled her father because of it, and you know what?

         Eda never uses her curse as an excuse. She never lets that justify what she’s done to people, and she even befriends the creature at the source of her curse, the Owl Beast. The curse she deals with is objectively worse, objectively more unfair, than Belos’. But it’s only Belos who actually cites his curse as an excuse, and the palismen at the source of it? He kills them.

         “Belos’ cursed form is treated as ugly and evil!”

         The palismen amalgam in his mind looked almost exactly the same, to the point where Hunter, who had seen Belos’ cursed form in person before, thought they were identical. But in the end, the palismen amalgam, despite resembling Belos’ cursed form, is a sympathetic and tragic victim who is murdered. Luz and Hunter mistaking him for Belos is justified, but it’s also still regrettable that they are judged by appearances.

         “It hurts people to sacrifice their morals for the greater good, you know!”

         Raine did that, they felt compelled to drag Darius and Eberwolf (one of whom was a childhood friend) into a murder-suicide, because as far as they knew, they were already going to be caught and executed, so may as well take their oppressors down with them! And they aren’t called out for it, because they couldn’t have known about Darius’ actual intentions…

         Because in the end, sometimes you have to punch a fascist, and sometimes you have to oppose a friend or loved one because they took the fascists’ side. It’s why Lilith is expected to change for Eda, not the other way around. Raine is not the aggressor here, it’s all from the principle of self-defense for themselves and the isles as a whole.

         And in the end, it’s because Raine is approaching from a place of actual good intent and moral concern that there are lines they still refuse to cross; As soon as they learn about Luz and King, they sabotage their own plans because they refuse to orphan these kids they just found out about for the ‘greater good’. When one of those very kids, Luz, makes Raine promise to keep Eda safe, you can see the conflict between their morals and their obligations in their eyes as Eda accepts the Bard sigil, and ultimately Raine powers through the draining spell to save Eda’s life, simply because Luz asked them to.

         I’ve talked since their debut of how Raine has some similarities to Belos, in particular how they both work their whole lives to infiltrate a group from within to topple it, even as they publicly support it as a celebrated leader. They both had to lie and work under the radar, and make effective rhetoric; They each wear their own masks. Raine has to constantly lie to and rebuke Eda about being brainwashed, and we can see the moral agony it gives them!

         But Raine is opposed to a legitimate threat, whereas Belos is completely making one up; Raine has to work under the micro-management of tyrants with control over them, Philip has been free from his colony for centuries, and even after finding out Gravesfield gave up on its witch hunting mission in the present, still traps himself of his own will. Belos feels no guilt for any of his ‘necessary evil’.

         Raine had actual morals unlike Belos that they did sacrifice, for an actual greater good, and they actually hurt over these choices. They dedicated their whole life to stop a dark and twisted parallel, which makes their inclusion in the finale as the only person outside of the core trio to help against Belos all the more deserved; They even help deliver the killing blows. And Raine is rewarded for all of their effort, allowed to see it come to fruition and rest happily afterwards, because they really were sincere, and actually did make sacrifices, something Belos preaches but never follows. Most importantly, Raine knew they couldn’t justify everything even for their morally-justified mission.

         “Belos was still legitimately wronged by Caleb for nothing, he didn’t deserve to be abandoned!”

         Even if we believe Caleb did ‘abandon’ Philip or whatever; The Collector was legitimately wronged by the Titan, imprisoned and isolated for millennia despite being innocent. But while he justifiably calls the Titan a bully, he never takes this out on King, or any other Titan for that matter, remembering the rest with love. Nor is the Collector expected to forgive the Titan; The Titan accepts she made the wrong call. After all, imprisoning the Collector left them in a vulnerable state to be exploited by Belos, and give him the draining spell…

         The Titan and Caleb’s mistakes were very much that, but the Collector matured for others, without needing an apology from the dead person who wronged him. And based on what we see of Belos’ memories, Caleb probably DID get to deliver that apology when he was alive, and Philip still insisted on being bitter!

         “His only childhood friend just ditched him for someone else!”

         That’s what happened to Willow, and that’s how she understood it for most of her life; Amity leaving her behind because she was too weak, and kids like Boscha and Skara were more popular, stronger, etc. But not only does the show say her rage against Amity is totally warranted and that the onus is on Amity to apologize, even if she didn’t choose to leave Willow (keep in mind she still saw Willow as a weak person to protect without input, as we later see in Labyrinth Runners)…

         Willow is still kind. She still opts to be compassionate to Gus, and to Luz, and in general a nurturing person despite her abandonment. And when Willow is given the chance to take revenge on Boscha by stealing her glory in Grudgby, she doesn’t kick the girl while she’s down to do so; But Willow is also allowed to still hold anger towards Boscha, as we see in Season 3. And assuming Caleb wasn’t malicious about leaving Philip behind, we clearly see how he welcomes his brother back and wants things to get better, just as Amity does; He had his own side of the story. And Willow doesn’t kill Amity despite being primed to very easily do so…

"But imagine finding out they CHOSE to leave you, when you thought they didn't!"

Camila?!?! In fact, Camila was THE precedent for this, and people went and applied her tragic scene to Philip to make HIM into some angsty sadboi! And last I checked, Camila didn't exactly murder Luz... Plus, Philip had infinitely more time to see Caleb and Evelyn interact, and thus figure out that Caleb wasn't being kidnapped or brainwashed; Compare that to Camila who is just dunked into that situation out of nowhere, and is barely even adjusting to Vee's existence on top of finding out Luz was someplace else the entire time, and dealing with Jacob.

"A lot of family members at least start off as well-intentioned when hurting loved ones, they could've shown that!"

Bold of you to assume that Belos' selfish entitlement towards Caleb is the same as Camila or Gwen's legitimate concerns for their daughters; They did unconditionally love and they were misguided. But when shown they were causing pain, they actually shifted gears instead of focusing on how they were fight because they knew better. And what they were doing WAS still harmful, even though they DID care.

         “Belos was probably a weirdo himself, and suffered from internalized hatred for his deviancy!”

         Lilith dyed her hair to fit in with the coven, and be taken seriously. Amity suppressed herself to be a stoic perfectionist, constantly trying to justify her own existence as she says; She had to work to be good at magic while others like Gus, Emira, and Edric were naturally talented, and was made to hate those who weren’t successful as witches. Hunter too loathed his own lack of bile magic!

         Most tellingly, Camila herself was taught to hide her weirdness, grew up thinking she was successful for doing that, and even tried to impose the same on Luz because of that misconception! But Camila realized what was done to her was wrong, and the same applied to her daughter; Accepting Luz’s weirdness meant accepting her own.

         “Even if he still chose to double down in villainy, Belos could’ve at least been given a moment where he was sympathetic, where his sadness was shown, before nevertheless deciding his fate!”

         Kikimora had an entire episode where she agonized over her obligations to a mother that seemed low key abusive, given her threat to disown her. We see her hesitate, cry, and be legitimately disappointed when she’s rewarded for staying with Belos by ‘getting to live’, a reward that doesn’t even last by the Day of Unity! Even after Kikimora makes her choice to betray Luz and Amity, we still get a final scene of her looking uncertain and even regretful of her decision, before she commits. Kikimora isn’t redeemed but is still humanized, despite being less human than Belos, so to speak.

         She’s even a dark parallel to Lilith, having jealousy towards the Golden Guard, an emotionally abusive mother, and an inferiority complex towards other members of the coven despite working directly with Belos! And she is given many chances to escape Belos, a few months where she is legitimately free from him, and chooses to remain in her ways because Kikimora’s difference with Lilith isn’t that life was more unfair to her, it’s that she refused to change.

         Now this is a bit out there, but there’s also the other Coven Heads! Mason, Vitimir, Hettie, and Osran! The show was shortened, so who knows what they could’ve provided for the story… Mason, Hettie, and Osran especially, since they’re not included amongst the coven head loyalists who still cling to power, even after Belos’ death. The show could’ve easily set up sympathetic moments to indicate a possibility of change, paying off in the epilogue; But because of Disney, you can’t blame the writers for not delivering everything they could’ve.

         “How about a character who was just… an asshole, no outside reason given?”

         Boscha, who was popular and privileged. While she does allude to some pressures that motivate her, as far as we know, there wasn’t really anyone or anything that made her be so cruel towards those she perceives as lesser. But despite this, Willow doesn’t see any point in trying to take Boscha’s spotlight as a Grudgby captain, when offered by her teammates; She doesn’t kick Boscha when she’s down. And Boscha is ultimately still recognized as unhappy with the loss of her friends, so even if she does do egregious things during the Collector’s reign, Amity offers Boscha the chance to become better and improve, as she did. And she takes it!

         “Well, none of these characters had to grapple with having done things nearly as bad as Belos!”

         And why do you think that is? Why are Belos’ sins so monumental in comparison, how did they get so bad? Because he kept refusing to change, kept refusing each opportunity, and got worse because of that. His first confirmed murder was Caleb, who right beforehand embraced his brother during what appeared to be a manifestation of the curse. But Philip still chose to commit his first sin despite receiving such unconditional sympathy, because he wanted control, not happiness. He didn’t start off as a genocidal dictator, he worked his way up to that over centuries.

         “They make it seem like Belos was born evil!”

         Our earliest chronological appearances of Philip are as a happy, carefree child who plays games with the brother he loves and looks up to; That isn’t the portrayal of someone ‘born’ evil. This is the portrayal of someone who became that way, over time, because he refused to concede anything to anyone, and wore away what decency he had across centuries, until we see the Emperor that Belos is when the show starts.

         An evil dictator who ravaged an entire world for hundreds of years came from an innocent little kid, and Luz becomes self-aware of how this can apply to her, even as she’s reminded that she also ISN’T like Belos because of this critical reflection and willingness to listen. Belos, on the other hand, consciously cultivated an echo chamber for centuries, killing any Grimwalker he felt disagreed with him, despite their unconditional love and support. He deliberately shut himself off from the isles and ignored the kindness of others.

         Bump reminds Faust that it’s disingenuous to project malice onto children who often simply don’t know any better, and just need to be given a chance to be taught and educated. But kids also have to take initiative to mature when they get older, hence why we hold adults more responsible; The established logic is that Belos wasn’t an evil child, he was simply a child who never grew up and that’s where his evil came from, rather than being some pre-existing source.

         To be honest, I think the narrative doesn’t bother showing sympathy to Belos over his trauma because he’s already HAD more than enough sympathy, across centuries, from his brother, the Grimwalkers, his followers, even Luz and the Collector! So the story doesn’t feel the need to waste tears on someone who already got them, and instead focuses sympathy to characters who haven’t received as much, if any; People like Lilith, Amity, Hunter, etc.

         Belos is the culmination of other characters’ traumas (who prove you can still choose to be better and happier despite these things), and was practically coddled by the people in his life for it. But he still chose to be bitter, never opened up to accept help, and his rejection brought even more pain that he could only blame on himself. Belos’ only tragedy is his refusal to change for the better; Even the narrative has made it clear he had chances, tears wept for him by people he knew.

He is a mirror to so many characters, what could’ve happened if they looked at their own pain and used it as justification to continue lashing out, because clearly they are the underdog heroes who have been wronged and are fighting against an injustice, right? The hero of their own story, if you will. Hell, we still also get that with Kikimora, as I just said! What I’ve listed is not a double standard, but rather proof that Belos was not uniquely condemned by his circumstances, for he is alike many characters as I mentioned. And Belos does not need to be portrayed “sympathetically” in order for the audience to understand the relevance of these parallels; Namely, that Belos has no excuse to still be like this when those similar nevertheless choose not to be cruel, and will accept others’ compassion.

         And besides, with how the show was shortened… Who’s to say the writers didn’t plan to throw Belos a sympathetic moment of genuine loneliness, before doubling down? Not that they really would’ve needed to. But if they planned it, the writers had to leave it out to prioritize the weirdos this show is actually about, due to the shortening.

[deep-sea-scholar]

Okay I need to rant about Glass Onion for several paragraphs

WARNING: SPOILERS!

Glass onion is phenomenal, and I personally enjoyed its themes more than the first Knives Out movie.

Now don’t get me wrong, Knives Out is arguably the better film, but its strengths lie in the complexity and brilliant execution of its core mystery.  It’s a fantastic self-contained story about a shitty rich family and the people they directly affect.  The members of the family range across the political spectrum and all express different ideologies, but the moment a migrant working-class woman has a legitimized shot at their inheritance they band together to prevent her from improving her life.  It's interesting commentary on how wealthy people can talk a big game about helping others and being good people, but ultimately fall morally short when such actions threaten what they feel they “rightfully deserve.” But that's arguably the limitation of the film as its focus is entirely on the interpersonal conflict between the Thrombey family and Marta.

Glass onion isn’t limited by that.

The entire thematic core of Glass Onion concerns the damage that the rich and powerful can do to the world if they aren’t supervised, criticized, or limited. 

Aside from our lovely detective Benoit Blanc, the murdered Andi Brand, and her twin sister Helen, all of the characters are shitty people that are damaging the world in a uniquely horrible way as a direct consequence of the unchecked power and wealth they wield.

To start we have Governor Claire Dubella.  Her success in her political career has relied almost entirely on monetary support and influence from the films big bad and Elon Musk/Jeff Bezos analogue Miles Bron. Her platform has good objectives, and she’s passionate about hard topics like climate change, but her ability to act is entirely limited by the influence Miles has on her.  If Miles wants her to do something, she feels like she has no choice but to, which results in her greenlighting an experimental powerplant that Miles wants built to advocate for his new fuel source.  It’s untested technology, it’s volatile and dangerous as fuck, and Claire feels like she has no choice but to go along with it because if she doesn’t Miles will withdraw support from her career, or worse, support her opponents.  She likens it to selling her soul, and it really is.  She willingly undermined the health of her constituents for the sake of saving her career, and the shitty part is that Miles only controls her because she lets him.  She could deny the power plant, or leave Miles, at any time, but she doesn’t because she perceives the personal risk as to great.  She is a politician that won’t stand up for the people she represents, and no one calls her out on it.

Next, we have Duke Cody, the Alpha male men’s rights streamer who is just like, the absolute worst person in this film.  His views and opinions are incredibly toxic, his actions and beliefs directly hurt the people he influences through the hurtful products he promotes, and thanks to Mile's wealth and influence both he and his terrible, terrible, terrible opinions have official backing and some form of legitimacy.  He’s almost the direct inverse of Claire, being someone who really shouldn’t have support, but is getting it anyway because he’s Mile’s friend.  And because Miles doesn’t care and is giving Duke support and helping him dodge legal trouble, he enables Dukes terrible opinions and lets them influence and hurt people.  

Then we have Birdie, my personal favorite of the disruptors.  She is a fashion designer, media star, and breathtakingly, beautifully, stupid. She’s not actively malicious like some of the other characters, but she is just so fundamentally incapable of thinking things through. When paired with her wealth and influence, this results in horrifying real-world consequences.  She has her iconic fashion line of sweatpants made at the most infamous sweatshop in Bangladesh not because she doesn’t care, but because she thought a sweatshop is just a shop where you make sweatpants.  She’s just very stupid, but at the very least has the decency to be aware of it.  She even decides to own up to her Bangladesh mistake of her own volition, independent of the plot.  The problem is that no one corrected for her, or guided her, or worked to influence her decisions.  Miles just cared about what her brands could do for him and was perfectly willing to throw her under the bus to preserve his image.

Last of the four Disruptors is Lionel Toussaint.  Not much to say about him actually, he’s fairly straightforward.  He works directly under Miles as a scientist and is a parallel for the people that want to have confidence in tech ‘pioneers’ like Elon Musk.  After all they’ve been successful, and things have worked out in the past, surely, we can give them leeway with new technology development.  But there’s a reason why technology is prototyped and tested, and that’s because things always go wrong, and you need to take time and care to figure out how to ensure new technology is safe.

Which leads us to this asshole.

Miles goddamn Mona Lisa Burning Bron.

The absolute, motherfucking, shithead moron directly responsible for everything bad that happens in this film.

I lied about Duke Cody because this absolute buffoon is the actually the worst person in this film.

He manipulates politicians into endangering their constituents for his own gain, he enables the absolute worst and most toxic people by giving them legitimate platforms, he promotes influencers without caring for what their unchecked actions result in, and he deludes the people that work for him and want to believe in him with self-assured delusion.  This man is arrogant, an indiscribable moron (worse than Birdie because at least she acknowledges her failings), dangerously delusional, obsessed with control, and most damning of all, unchecked.

Miles Bron is a direct look at how too much unchecked power, wealth, and influence results in unmitigated disasters.  He doesn’t care about helping people, because he doesn’t take the time to make sure untested technology is safe for the public, handwaving legitimate concerns with denial and false assurance.  He doesn’t care about his friends, because he murders two of them the instant, they become a threat to his control.  He’s not smart, because all of his genius is the result of other people, he’s just skilled at advertising it as his own to get the credit.  All he cares about is doing what he wants and being in control, because his opinion and self-worth and legacy is more precious to him than any other thing in the world.  The man is a lie so absolute, so convoluted, and so stupidly straightforward that the slightest piece of truth will bring the facade of his existence crumbling down.  And it’s hard to acknowledge something like that in the real world because someone that successful being that malicious and dumb sounds incredibly stupid.  It’s an easy lie to buy because it’s more believable than how stupid the truth is.

Anyway, ultimately my conclusion is that we see a strikingly accurate portrayal of Jeff Bezos and Elon Musk in this film, and it was very cathartic seeing their hopes, ambitions, and house burn down around them.  Because billionaires like them are shithead morons that lie to and manipulate everyone, and their arrogant and harmful self-delusions compound through the people they manage to influence.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[moonrisecoeur]

apathy — leon kennedy

author’s note: this is so horribly self-indulgent self-centered self-serving, it might as well not even be x reader and literally just leon x moon i’m so sorry. this is angsty smutty nonsense for anyone who wanted more feelings and less horniness out of gratitude. i do not apologize for any comparisons of the reader being like the moon.

wc: 3.3k

content: switchy/sub!leon x switchy/dom!reader, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, afab reader, re4r leon, scratching and bruising, hickeys, masochist!leon agenda, reader’s got a lot of feelings, mention of edging and denial, mentions of food

warning: this is not dark content, but reader is lowkey toxic. please be aware that i don’t endorse treating your partner like this. mention of using a knife on him once.

notes:

“i will begin to despise you if i let you in.”

“and i will adore every moment of your resentment.”

“i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”

“it’s okay, i like you as you are.”

—

“i promise that you don’t want me,” you had said once. leon didn’t really know what to do with that statement. it was a promise, but you would have already broken it a million times over; that is how badly he wants you.

he knows what you really meant. it wasn’t some promise you had no way of keeping. it was a warning, a cautionary tale. wanting you would not be good for him, plain and simple. though, sometimes, plain and simple isn’t always as such. sometimes it’s much, much more complex than meets the eye.

he recalls the moment in his apartment as clear as day. you had said, “look. i want you. i very clearly do, this is not… me denying that fact. what i am trying to say is that you do not want me. i don’t care what you think you know. what you think you want. you don’t want to have me.”

he took a while to think about what you had said. it wasn’t a choice he had, to pick you or to pick freedom. it wasn’t one or the other. you didn’t let him pick you, because he would have, you knew it, he knew it. he would give you anything.

his biggest problem is he never knew why. you made yourself very clear, you wanted him, and this, you had him, but you refused to let him have you.

“you don’t want me,” you said, but he does.

you try to block him out, to avoid him, even as he tries and pushes you for answers, to know why, why you don’t let him have you, why you insist he can’t want you.

he keeps pushing, keeps chasing you. in a way, it’s nice. you like being chased, being wanted, desired. the only problem is that it’s leon. if it was anyone else, anyone less moral and perfect and everything the world needs desperately and does not deserve, then maybe you would be more okay with letting this all happen.

but leon doesn’t deserve how you’ll inevitably treat him, using your power over him to do whatever you please, using him for every last drop of pleasure he has to offer you, and then leaving him when you’re done. he would be the most delightful treat, but you abstain simply out of guilt from how perfect the man is.

you don’t know if you could ever forgive yourself for ruining leon, making him recover from the misery that would be your love.

—

“you know i’m not good for you,” you whisper to him, “i love you and love you and love you until you can’t breathe with how filled to the brim you are with my affection and adoration and then i leave you alone to… do whatever it is you do while i want to be alone,” you tell him, more like lecture him, as he stands there. he’s trying to get closer you and you won’t let him, both figuratively and literally. he tries to reach out for your hand but you pull back.

“i’ll leave you alone. you hate people who do that,” you murmur that last part, and leon notes to himself that someone who doesn’t care wouldn’t remember his propensity to dislike the people who have left him alone before.

“that’s… fine. i know you’re introverted and… you need alone time, i get it,” he tries to reason, even with his own insecurities, “i’ll be okay.”

“no, you don’t understand, i am terrible. i will crave you and ache for you and need you and still know i am not a torture that you deserve,” you’re glaring at him with an anger that isn’t real, it is more out of desperation, “if i can know i am awful, why can’t you?”

“call me ignorant if you want, i don’t care. i want the worst of you,” he says, reaching out again. you take a step back, but he takes two forward, and his presence is never one you’ve been known to resist, “let me have y—”

“i will hurt you!” you tell him, but you give in just slightly. you bring your hands to his waist, too gentle for your previous statement to make sense. he thinks you’re lying, anything to push him away. you’re too soft on him to be so cruel.

“you know i’m a masochist,” he still laughs. he holds you back as you reach out for him, your soft, teary eyes vaguely make out a smile from his pretty lips. what a terrible time to be joking, leon.

“that’s not funny, leon,” you whisper.

“never said it was,” he feels tears prickling at his eyes too. he wonders how you could be so cold and uncaring if you’re crying for him right now. he wonders if maybe, just maybe, you’re not selfish like you say you are. you’re just a girl who has only ever had to look out for herself.

“i will hate you,” you bite your lip, nervous. he’s winning, “i will do terrible things to you.”

“i will love you just as much to balance that out. and there is no crime you could commit against me that i would not forgive you for. not that you… would need or want my forgiveness.”

moments pass where your hands are digging in trenches into his skin, knowing you’ll never be able to let him go if this goes on any longer. he holds onto your hips, afraid you’ll leave if he lets go.

he aches to break the silence, but you won’t believe anything he says anyway. he’d tell you he saw the good in you, the girl who was nice and cared about others, and you would have the displeasure of telling him it’s all a facade.

“i will begin to despise you if i let you in, you realize that, right?”

“and i will adore every moment of your resentment,” he smiles softly, sadly, like it's all he wants. like he’d take the sweet fragments of you over any other full person. of course he would. they wouldn’t be you.

you dig your fingers into his skin, rough but not painful, aching to take him but still nervous that he doesn’t really know what he’s signing up for, “i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”

“it’s okay, i like you as you are,” he says, his voice as gentle as ever. leon has always been gentle, kind, soft. god you just want all of him to yourself. you are everything he is not, possessive and selfish and cruel, but he loves it. he wants the worst of you.

give me the devil as my lover and i’ll serve her forever, his heart calls.

you can’t help the urge to give in, to let him win, let yourself take what you want by letting him win. you can’t help tightening your grip on his waist, pulling him in for a full hug that he reciprocates, big arms wrapping around your shoulders like he could shield you from the world. even if you were the monster you say you are.

words fail him, but he’d give you anything. he’d let you do anything, take his breath, his soul, his sanity, his life.

you say you’re a monster? prove it.

—

you do just that.

he’s not saying you’re dramatic… but you’re not the evil monster you’re painting yourself out to be. you’re a little apathetic sometimes, but aren’t we all?

he gets why you think you’re some monster. you can be selfish. you’re a loner at heart, and that just doesn’t work out well with the whole ‘relationship’ thing. you’re possessive despite not giving him attention, no one else can either. you want him all to yourself even when you don’t want him at all. sometimes he wonders why, but he doesn’t question you. you’re not even possessive most of the time, if anything, you just want his attention.

you said you’re mean and cruel and you warned him that you wouldn’t change, but he just doesn’t believe it. you’re the ‘stop to help old ladies cross the street’ type of caring. you’re the ‘hand on his shoulder to get him out of someone else’s way’ type of caring. you’re the person who stays behind as everyone else walks ahead when someone’s tying their shoe. you care. you’re kind. you don’t see it.

you, and everyone else in this world, mistakes apathy for cruelty. it’s like, you don’t care about what people have to say? you must be the devil incarnate.

1. wrong. you not being interested in people around you isn’t something you can control. sometimes people are just boring.

2. he thinks the devil (you!) is hot.

and you feel too deeply, too ashamed about everything to be as apathetic towards the world as you think you are. leon looks at you and sees how you care. it’s different, but it’s not wrong. he knows you don’t care about the stories people tell you, you don’t remember pieces of their lives or their birthdays. you don’t care when they share those fragments of themselves, vulnerable and desperate for reassurance you’re not going to give them.

you don’t care. and you hate that you don’t care, but hating your apathy doesn’t make it go away. it doesn’t cancel out the cruelty you think you are. and that is the epitome of it all. you care so badly about how much you don’t really.

leon holds you close as you cling to him, arms wrapped around his torso as you curl your head into his chest as you lay on the bed, cold feet hanging off the edge of the mattress like the evil monster underneath would come to take you away. maybe it should, you muse. maybe then i could forgive myself for being so wrong.

and for stealing leon away from the world. someone so perfect. not actually perfection, because things are less likable when there’s nothing to critique about them. it is only when something is flawed in many ways that loving it so deeply is possible. it is easy to love something perfect. it is rewarding to love something imperfect and raw and human and real.

but in an ironic way, it is easy to love leon. he’s so loving and kind, you wonder why he’d ever want you because you’re very much not easy to love, but to leon? maybe you are.

so when his hands cradle your head against his chest, his body enveloping yours like a thick fog settling over you, you let him. and you wonder why he could love someone so wrong. to him, your flaws are a million times more prominent. and that means he could only love you deeper.

—

if you’re a bad friend, then you’re a worse lover. your body aches for his just like him for yours and you give him nothing and take everything. you take and take and take until he’s exhausted, but the worst (best?) part is leon only wants to give and give until you push his head away from you, until you force him to stop.

your body takes him like he’s the only drug you’ve ever craved, carving sweet nothings into his wrist and thighs and shoulders with your fingertip, though he’s sure you imagine doing so with a blade encompassing your hand. he shivers at the thought. maybe he wants it too.

you shatter him to pieces with every touch, picking up the broken pieces of the mess you’ve made of him. you keep them close, treasuring every kiss you place on his neck, every touch on his waist, the way his cock fills you up so perfectly.

he loves that you just take whatever you want from him. no warning, no concern for him. you know he wants to be used for your every desire, every need. he’s yours to drain of life like a vampire sucking the life out of its helpless victim.

you tell him what to do, order him around viciously, and he has no choice but to obey. what’s he going to do? try and tell you what to do? dominance has never been his forte, he’s too awkward, too shy. besides, if he even tried to tell you you’re a ‘good girl’ right now, you’d probably slap him.

to be fair, he’d probably like it, like the sting of your palm against his cheek, like the burning feeling afterwards, like the red mark on his face in the aftermath. he still won’t do it, for your sake. call that self-sacrifice.

you dig your nails into his skin, into his chest, his waist, his thighs, until small little crescent moons cover his entire body, leaving the mark of the moon that you were in his sky.

if he was the sun, you were the moon. he shines and shines and shines and you take his sunshine and keep it as your own. he lets you because it makes you brighter, happier, lighter, god you’ve seemed so much happier these days. ever since you gave in and let yourself be loved by him, he’s made your life nothing but brighter. doesn’t make you feel bad for your incredibly chronic case of general apathy, just makes it easier to not feel like a monster on the daily, which is appreciated. you worried so much about how cruel and selfish you would be to him and he’s been nothing but joyous since.

when you’re not pressing your nails into him, you’re gripping him so tightly that you just might bruise him. it’s alright if you do, he’s always liked it rough. his body is a clean canvas that’s yours to depict your destruction upon. by the end, he's heaving, skin red and irritated from scratching and bruised up all on his neck and thighs. your mouth is insatiable when it comes to his neck, the vampire comparison must have really been accurate.

he likes that you’re selfish, that making him orgasm was never your goal. sure, you’re not going to deny him, though maybe you would, now that he thinks about it. okay, try that again, you weren’t trying to deny him this time, but that doesn’t mean you cared if he did cum. if anything, you did it for your own selfish wants, getting to watch him fall apart so helplessly.

you took care of yourself, because that’s all you know how to do.

his heart still aches when he sees tears welling up in your pretty eyes, switching positions so he could hold you close as you ride him, his hands rubbing circles into your back, “i got you, pretty girl. just breathe.” and that’s it.

he knows if he keeps talking, you’ll get uncomfortable, and you’ll run away. like a wild animal that might get scared off at any moment, he treads cautiously and treats every moment of you in his arms with the utmost value. you come undone just a few moments after him, and you ride out your orgasm even as he bites back whimpers of pain. he’s sensitive and tense, sure, but you’re still grinding down on him, using him for every last drop of pleasure, and he’s not in any position to stop you.

you collapse onto him, as if fully giving in to that feeling that says to trust him. to hold him close. to love him endlessly for putting up with your constant bullshit.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispers as you lay together on the bed, his fingertips brushing through your hair. he’s painfully gently, so much more so than you are with him. (you’d feel bad if he wasn’t moaning so loudly every time you hurt him.)

you hum, hand rubbing his side, up and down motions following the curve of his torso, enjoying the way he groans in discomfort, “i warned you that i was mean,” you say, enjoying the way he laughs.

he’s so bright and lively with you, and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve brought out something in him that was hidden away too. more youthful, free of the problems bestowed upon him by the events of his early 20s. he’s even more beautiful than you are to him. not that he’d ever think that’s possible.

“i know, i know…” he mumbles, his hand placed on the back of your head as he pulls you in for a soft kiss, his other hand on your cheek, thumb brushing against it almost as if to wipe away tears. luckily, you were past that. you had cried enough.

you warned him that you were mean, cruel, apathetic, distant, etc, and maybe you were. or maybe you would become those things. maybe this is the high high before the low low you had talked about once. the moments where you’re perfect and loving and amazing right before your descent into resentment and cruelty.

but for now? all leon knows is you’re a helluva lover and he can't imagine a better way to sleep than in a lover’s arms. he falls asleep before you do, sleeping like a baby before you doze off.

you stay awake a little bit longer, still plagued with the thoughts of what the hell you did to deserve this man. you come to the conclusion that sometimes bad things happen to good people.

and sometimes? good things happen to bad people. leon’s love was the best thing you could ever obtain, and you refuse to let it go.

—

the next morning, he kisses your cheek as he serves you breakfast, and talks about something you don’t care about. he’s sure you’re not listening, but he doesn’t mind. he’s more just thinking out loud to himself.

you stare at the plate as you eat, off in your own world. he just waits until he can be a part of your world again, watching you intently. he likes looking at you, even like this. you’re far too beautiful for his soul to handle.

you look over at him as you notice him staring, “hm?” you groan, making a small sound to acknowledge and question his gaze.

he just shakes his head, “just like looking at you, pretty,” he smiles, and you roll your eyes. you can’t help the adoration that fills your bones at the sight of him. he’s perfect. everything to you. even if you can’t always show it, or even if it doesn’t always feel that way.

you told him you wouldn’t change for him. and he never wanted you to. there was nothing to change, you were already perfect to him. he can’t help but keep his eyes on you the whole morning before he has to leave for work.

as he does, even though it’s with a heavy heart because you look so sad that he has to go and he never wants to make you sad, he gives you his goodbye kiss. your hand finds the back of his neck and your thumb pressed on a newly tender bruise on the side of it. he winces at the touch, and you smirk. he’ll never forget how fatal you are, even in your… softer moments.

[korodere]

ill have peace when people realize that theres barely any romantic implications beyond waifubait with hajime & chiaki in sdr2 (hajime is even like “what is up with this girl” multiple times because she cant hold convo, love her) meanwhile there’s immediately romantic implications between hajime & nagito

hajime and chiaki’s relationship is not inherently romantic beyond it being a boy and a girl who care about each other, and people thinking that needs to be romantic. it makes more sense as an important friendship. because chiaki is important to and cares about ALL of her classmates in the same way.

but ultimately chiaki COULDN’T save hajime. not in dr3. it’s true that a vision of her manages to talk hajime out of his despair in chapter 6. but the REAL chiaki could NOT save him from himself, because she has a fundamental mismatch and doesn’t truly understand his feelings on worthlessness and lack of talent. she has a talent, she even says to him that it’s “harder” to be talented than not, and she’d prefer it. that’s completely ignoring his feelings on the matter.

while it can be argued that dr3 shows more romantic implications between them, it’s also where she’s least compatible and helpful for him. she can’t understand why he’s so upset about talent, so she can’t talk him out of his mindset and prevent him from doing the project. even if she doesn’t know that’s what her words are doing, she still fails.

i won’t say komaeda would talk him out of it, because i don’t think many people could. hajime hates himself deeply enough to become another person, it’s hard to talk anyone out of that mindset. but komaeda understands hajime in a way no one else does - because everyone else in sdr2 is talented, and doesn’t really ride or die for the whole “talented vs untalented” dichotomy, but they don’t not participate in it. 

komaeda isn’t really talented on the other hand, and he even wishes he wasn’t, and treats himself like he isn’t. because he believes he doesn’t deserve the title. just like hinata, he believes strongly in the worth of ultimates and the worthlessness in comparison of those beneath them - like himself and hinata.

komaeda’s worldview is nearly the exact same as hinata’s, just pushed a bit further and a bit more twisted. hinata’s worldview isn’t any more healthy than komaeda’s, either - a healthy worldview doesn’t lead to you lobotomizing yourself. they understand each other in a way no one else in sdr2 can because they both have this inferiority/superiority complex about talent.

that’s why the narrative revolves around them so much. their stories begin and end with each other.

chiaki is important to hajime, yes, but not in any romantic sense. they’re friends. and that’s fine. a male and a female character don’t have to be romantic to be deeply important to each other. danganronpa is not above putting an m/f ship as endgame, this is obvious with naegiri, and if that was ever the intention with hajime and chiaki they would’ve. but instead we see a literal scene where hajime leaves his memory of chiaki behind and moves on from her, as he needs to, as they all need to, carrying her memory with him but not living in the past, and as he leaves her he joins nagito instead.

and this is the FINAL shot of them. to end the series.  i think it’s pretty clear what they intended with this.

essentially, nagito and hajime complete each other. they are soulmates. end of ramble