#even if i reject it politely the other person will get angry regardless

[thomas-mvller]

Would you gift someone afraid of heights a bungee jump? serious question

[rex101111]

yeah sure Across the Spiderverse is about being doomed by the narrative and knowing you’re doomed by the narrative, but also it’s about how different people react to that, and how no one reaction is the right one, like Peter B. has lived as Spider-man long enough that’s gone through most of the “canon events” and he’s in a place where he’s like “yeah, alright, I can work with this” and is afraid of doing anything drastic because after being a screw-up for so long and finally, finally getting it right wouldn’t you be afraid making a mistake again?

And Miguel is angry but resigned because the one time he tried to defy the narrative it spat in his face and beat him to the ground. So now he’s doing what he genuinely belives is to everyone’s benefit. Without a hint of flexibility. He’s even angrier when Miles suggests that fate can be defied both because he’s convinced Miles is wrong and is going to get people killed and also if Miles is right than Miguel has to reckon with the fact that he’s convinced so many Spider-people to just “follow the script” and let their loved ones died because he was convinced there was no fighting the narrative. That not everyone is as doomed as he is.

And Hobie, who knows he might be doomed but is dead-set on spitting in the narrative’s face for as long as he can regardless. A different kind of acceptance. A kind of acceptance that’s covered in spikes and has teeth. If the narrative is gonna take him down he’s taking as much bad guys as he can before he bites it. And he’s isn’t going to be nice or polite about it, and he sure as shit ain’t gonna be quiet. Proper fucking punk, right there.

And Gwen, who is on the fence, but is sad and tired and just doesn’t have the strength to try anymore. She doesn’t have a home to come back to, or at least doesn’t think so, she’s stressed out and angry and she found out that as Spider-Woman that was always going to happen to her. She’s ready to give up, because being doomed is kinda freeing, if she was always doomed to fail, lose her friend, lose her dad, than it takes the pressure off. Sad as it was she could live with that. Until she sees Miles bite and fight and scream when he finds out he’s doomed, and that one little push gives her the courage to try and find out just how doomed she really is.

And Miles!! Free spirit, radical free thinker, “just let him spread his wings, man” Miles Morales. Who is trying so, so hard to figure out what his narrative even is, but is determined that he can figure it out, that he can spread his wings and manage on his own and find his place and be himself. Miles finding out he might be doomed is a slap in the face that he’s completely unprepared for. And he denies it completely. He refuses to lay down and just take it, he’s going to punch and kick and save everyone, no matter that every other Spider-person, Ham and Miguel and Gwen and every one, who’ve been doing this spider thing for much long tell him he can’t. And this radical rejection earns him pity, and earns him enemies, but he’s not backing down. He can’t back down. Because even if he is doomed he’ll never be able to forgive himself if he doesn’t even make an attempt.

 Across the spider-verse is so fucking good you guuuuuysss

[muddyorbsblr]

secret notes part 1: miss invisible

Masterlist

Summary: It's Tony's New Year's Eve party and Loki asks you about the tradition of New Year's Kisses.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warning/s: mentions of alcohol

Things to be aware of: idiots in love, angst

"Babes, you're staring again. Actually, don't move, let me just get…" Natasha leaned over the table to put a napkin to the corner of your mouth. "There we go. Just to be sure you're not drooling. Yet."

"Fuck off, Romanoff," you grumbled, taking another large sip of the strawberry margarita in front of you. As you felt the alcohol make its way through your bloodstream, you slurred, "I wasn't even staring."

That was a lie, obviously. You'd spent the better part of Stark's year-end Ball Drop Party in a prolonged state of lamenting. Over what? Over the black-haired devastatingly attractive Asgardian who was the recipient of the sultry attentions of a Victoria's Secret Angel. 

"If you were a wooden puppet, your nose would have grown, Y/N," Wanda quipped from beside you, making you throw a table napkin her way. "Hey don't go throwing things at me just because I'm speaking in facts. I don't understand why you don't just tell him how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?" 

"How about we start with he could hate me, Wan? Not just reject me, but outright get so angry with me that he wouldn't blink an eye if I got compromised in the field? We can start there. I can't risk someone I trust to have my back when I'm behind enemy lines just because I have feelings." Your words were coming out slurred but your thoughts were still fairly articulate.

"Alright everybody, it's an hour to midnight and our live entertainment for the night has ended their final set, which means we're opening up the mic to anyone who wants to wow us with their hidden musical prowess," Tony announced as he took the stage while the band was packing up their equipment. "Stage is open for everyone. Avengers, actors, politicians. Grab the mic when the spirit moves you. And Happy New Year, you beautiful beautiful creatures." 

"I'm gonna sing," Wanda announced. "Nat come on we should go sing something."

"Like what?"

"We can figure it out on the way." Wanda started jutting her head toward the stage, throwing Nat a look, which made the Russian spy vacate her seat in the booth. "Y/N? You wanna sing with us and we can go for Spice Girls?" She held out a hand toward you, which you politely declined.

"Singing's not my thing," you deadpanned. "And I'm pretty sure that nails on a board isn't everyone's thing, either," you joked. 

"Alright. Suit yourself." Nat laid a hand on your shoulder as she acknowledged someone coming in from behind you. "Hey, Laufeyson." You felt her pat your shoulder twice before she stepped away and walked with Wanda toward the stage.

As your friends made their way to the stage, you felt a faint touch on your shoulder, making the little hairs on your neck stand up. You looked up to see Loki standing over you with a small smile on his face, seemingly amused at something. Dammit he must've seen my goosebumps. Stupid, Y/N. Just utterly stupid. You struggled to seamlessly compose yourself and return his smile.

"Would you mind for some company, darling?" 

Your heart fluttered at the name, despite knowing it was completely out of line. There was no hidden meaning, no affection, behind his calling you "darling". You knew this, and regardless your heart skipped beats, the warmth washing over your entire body.

Most likely because every part of you desperately wished that it did hold that affection you so craved from the god.

"Not at all," you answered, trying to keep your voice steady. You scooted over in the booth to allow more than enough room for him to sit without you crowding each other's personal space. "Go ahead." 

His smile brightened as he slid into the booth next to you, positioning himself so close that your legs pressed against each other. Your heart started thumping in your chest as you spied his arm draped over the cushioned seat behind you, effectively pressing his side into yours now as well. 

"I'm afraid I'm going to need some guidance on this holiday's particular tradition, dear Y/N," he said over the sound of Natasha and Wanda currently enjoying themselves belting out their rendition of Wannabe by the Spice Girls. You gave him a look to say 'go ahead' and he continued speaking. "Why are these people looking to kiss someone when midnight strikes?" 

You laughed at the question. "Did someone ask you to be their New Year's Kiss, Mischief?" 

"There were a few rather…promiscuous offers. Of kisses that they intended to lead to…" He cleared his throat. "More." You fought to mask the unwarranted pain you were feeling at the thought of these goddess-caliber beauties so shamelessly offering their bodies to him, and him taking them up on their offer. "Tell me about this…New Year's Kiss?"

You struggled to form words together, your mind still screaming at you over his proximity. So close that if you made the mistake to look into his eyes you'd drown. That if you even breathed the wrong way his scent would imprint itself into your memory and stay there for all eternity. 

"It's a…superstition," you started. You watched as he looked at some of the other partygoers with a near murderous look in his eyes and held your breath as you felt his arm move from the seat to gently wrap around you, his hand loosely closing around your arm. 

And then his mood shifted as he shifted his gaze back to you, the smile on his face returning as he said, "Go on, darling." 

"So the superstition goes that what ever it is you do in the first moments of the new year, that's what you're manifesting into the coming year for your life. Some people jump for the hope that they'll become taller, please don't do that you're tall enough already." Your words made him laugh with a big toothy grin that nearly made your heart melt on the spot. "And some people have a New Year's Kiss to…manifest a relationship into the coming year. Companionship, romance, mostly romance." 

"And who do you plan on kissing at midnight?" His words were spoken so softly, with such a tenderness, you could have sworn it was like he was trying to caress you with them. 

"Nobody," you answered him. "I don't buy into the whole manifestation thing." 

"And of the years you chose to not kiss anyone at the stroke of midnight, how many of them did you spend without companionship? Without romance?" His tone was almost teasing before it grew nearly ominous. "For I've been approached by quite a few of the male attendees of this soiree, and they've been curious to see if I could steer you their way." 

"You?" you nearly choked at the audacity of these men he talked about. "They asked you?" 

"They've been querying with many of us."

As Steve started singing a depressing tune about hurting the one you love on stage, you took a quick look around the floor, noting the borderline lusty eyes of a handful of men staring in the direction of your booth. At the sight of one of them blatantly licking his lips, you flinched, causing Loki to slightly tighten his hold on you, almost protectively. When you looked back at him, you saw the near murderous gaze once more and you wondered to yourself if it had anything to do with those lecherous stares being thrown your way.

Nah, surely it can't be, you told yourself. Must be someone else he's glaring daggers at. After all, what did he care about people wanting to lock lips with you at midnight? 

"Well they're fresh out of luck because I don't do anything in the first moments of the year. Just in case I'm wrong and there's truth to this hokum? Then doing nothing means my life would stay exactly the same. And I'm content with that." 

The last words tasted bitter as they escaped your mouth. Of course, you were content. You were surrounded by extraordinary people you were lucky to call your friends, and you aided said extraordinary people in keeping the world safe as best you can. You had found near sisters in Natasha and Wanda, and in them a family you only dreamt of having once upon a time. 

You were even lucky enough to have this weird borderline flirty friendship with Loki. And you were content with all of that. 

Did you want more out of that last one? Of course you did. But you had a firm enough grip on reality to know that it wasn't something feasible, something to plan for. It was something to hope for on every shooting star, every fallen eyelash, every dandelion, sure. It was a pipe dream. 

"So now that you know what the tradition's all about," you broke the tense silence between you, making him turn his gaze back to you. "You should probably take one of those drop dead gorgeous women up on their offer." 

"I would rather decline them," he said, his gaze unwavering.

"And why is that?" 

"They're not, how you Midgardians would say, 'my type'." You eyed him incredulously. "What is it, darling?" 

"These are some of the most beautiful people walking this planet right now, and they're--they're not your type??" You had to raise the volume of your voice once more as Sam started chaotically singing both parts of Love the Way You Lie and sounding like he was having a grand time at that.

Loki shrugged at your question. "They are beautiful, I'll agree there. But I prefer my women capable of holding conversations that go beyond telling me how they admire my physique. The kind whose eyes I can gaze into and I can see the intelligence, the passion, in them. What I look for is beyond the physical, for if we take away the carnal desire, or at least move past it, I would very much like to find that there is something left to hang on to." 

You were speechless. No words came to mind in response except, "I see." Then you took another deep, steadying breath. "So I take it you're going to do like me and opt for nothing in the first moments of the new year?" 

A small smirk played on his face. "Perhaps I am content with the state of my life as well, Y/N." He shifted in the booth so that he was facing the stage, watching in amusement as Sam once again pitched his voice so high for the chorus of the song, and then proceeding to tighten his embrace on you once more by just the slightest amount. "You chose not to partake in the open stage?" You shook your head at him. "That's a shame. You have a lovely voice, to put it into song would undoubtedly bless many ears tonight." 

You ducked your head slightly to avoid blushing at his words. "Too many eyes. I…I don't really do well performing in front of crowds," you answered, trying to sound nonplussed at his compliment. "And since we're on the topic of pretty voices…why aren't you singing?" 

Your words got him breaking out into a smile and chuckling again. "The music I've taken a liking to here on Midgard might not match the mood for such celebrations." You bit your tongue. You could say the same for yourself, considering that the only songs currently coming to mind were sappy love songs that you only ever dared dedicate to him in your dreams. 

"We just had Rogers try to put the entire party into a depression, I'm sure you couldn't make it any worse," you answered back, your quip making him throw his head back in an infectious laugh. 

"Okay that's enough of that," Tony spoke up, once again taking the stage. "It's two minutes to midnight, which means it's that time of the year we're all non-contractually obligated to listen to Auld Lang Syne. Who wants to do the honors?"

Loki watched with a fondness in his heart as you cupped your hands over your mouth and shouted "NATASHA!!" in the direction of the stage, revealing an undeniably adorable smile once you put your hands down. The kind that made your dimple show, the very same one he itched to press his lips to every time he saw it. 

"I'll get you back for this, Y/L/N," the Russian spy said into the microphone before she started to sing the almost melancholy tune and a timer began to count down, projected on the walls and above the stage. 

This is it. This is my only chance, he thought to himself as the timer whittled down to the final 10 seconds and the attendees began to chant the time left. 

He tucked his free hand under your chin, gently turning you to look at him. Seven. 

"In case there's truth to the hokum," he said softly. Five. "To us finding companionship. Or romance." Three.

"To not being alone," you whispered back. Two.

As the people chanted "One!" and fireworks were launched into the sky, he gently, and all too briefly, pressed his lips to yours, his heart nearly soaring as he felt you kiss him back. 

Only to feel that very same heart plummet to the ground as he felt you pull away after mere moments, and whisper, "Happy New Year, Mischief." And then you turned to watch the fireworks, the vibrant colors illuminating your face in such a way that had him struggling to look away from you. 

He briefly considered finding one of the women who offered him physical companionship for the night, taking her up on the offer to, in her words, "start off the new year with a bang", but he knew that ultimately the affair would end bleakly. For in the morning he would wake, and he would still yearn for the same person. He would relentlessly pick apart his bedmate in the privacy of his own thoughts and tick off all the ways that she wasn't you. 

So he dismissed the thought, resigning himself to being simply content with your companionship. Even though he desperately wished for even the most remote possibility that he could engage in a romance with you. 

"Happy New Year, darling," he sighed.

When you retreated to your room for the night, your heart was pounding in your chest. What the fuck was that? you thought to yourself. You couldn't wrap your head around what happened at the stroke of midnight. All those models and actresses draping themselves over him and abandoning all self-respect to kiss him at midnight, and he chose to stay in a little booth, watching the chaos unfold, with you. 

And then he proceeded to kiss you at the end of the timer, "in case there was truth to the hokum", he said. Did he simply not wish to follow through with what everyone else offered, and that was why he chose to kiss a friend instead? Was he even aware of what type effect that had on you? Did he—oh holy fuck did he know? 

Did he know that you started having feelings for him and that was done out of pity? Poor little lonely Avenger, choosing to live out her life alone, maybe if she got a kiss from a literal god, she wouldn't look so pitiful at the ball drop? Fuck, that was probably it. 

He was probably back in his room with that Victoria's Secret Angel right now. Kissing her, touching her, fucking her in ways that only in your wildest dreams would he ever do to you. With you. 

Alright, lonely one, it's a new year. Make a resolution. Right here. Right now. You're gonna get all these feelings you have for Loki out. One way or another, by the end of the year they'll be gone, and things can go back to the way they were before you started falling for him. 

And that was how it started. A pact with yourself that you would somehow expel these feelings. You needed an outlet, and you started writing down songs that you'd started to associate with the raven-haired god. 

Then you snuck into the Operations stock room and procured one of their mics on standby, brought it into your closet, plugged it into your laptop, and pressed Record. 

And thus The Lonely Avenger on YouTube was born. With her first upload: Miss Invisible. 

A/N: And so it begins! Welcome to the new series, hope you're all as excited to read it as I am to write it and sing for it, and for those who requested to be part of the tags before the first chapter was even out? I hope the wait was worth it.

Taglist:

Everything: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston

secret notes: @taro-gabi @kats72 @rmoonstoner @moonlightreader649 @loz-3 @beata1108 @fandumbug @crystaldragonborne @goblinhobo @nataliewalker93 @highkeysimpingforloki @constablewafflebottom @gracecaldwellx

[polyamorouspunk]

How To Be Punk

“Do no harm, take no shit” is a really good mantra, but it’s a hard line to balance. I know personally, I probably lean a bit too hard to the “take no shit” side, which can lead me to sometimes coming off as combative, argumentative, defensive, and so on. It’s not the best look, I know. But I want to talk about leaning too much to the “do no harm” side. Maybe I’m not qualified to talk about how “some of you have got to get meaner” as a certifiable asshole, but like. Some of you have got to get meaner -a certifiable asshole.

I’m going to use myself as an example. I’m an asshole. I’m a dick. I’m a cunt. I’m a bitch. I’m a douchbag. Is that how you even spell that? I’m a bastard. You get the point.

If I call you stupid or something because I’m frustrated, it’s totally not cool. But if I’m a dick to you CALL ME OUT ON IT. I’m not saying two wrongs make a right but also! Don’t let people walk all over you! Don’t grovel and apologize to someone when THEY’RE mean to you!

As someone who is open about being a really toxic person in the past let me tell you: the best thing for me during those times I was being a complete asshole was for someone to tell me I was being an asshole. This isn’t me saying “if you’re in an abusive relationship you should fight back”. No. You do what you think is best there. But if you have a friend whose had a rough day and you see them taking it out on you, sometimes you should call them out on it. Say “I’m sorry you’re frustrated but taking it out on me is not appropriate.” And honestly? Most of the time I know when I’m being a dick. But there are times when I didn’t! There were times I was so clouded by my own negative emotions I didn’t realize I was hurting other people. And how they react to that tells you the kind of person they are.

There are times when people tell me I’m being mean and I’m hurting there feelings and I’ve said things like “good” or “deal with it”. That’s not someone you should be friends with! At least not until they get help! I need space to explore how I can react to people saying something like that when I’m just as upset as they are so that I don’t react like that, but unfortunately I haven’t been able to find that in my therapy journey in a long time. It’s something I need help with.

It might be really easy to say “you could just not be a dick about it” but honestly sometimes it’s REALLY hard not to be a dick about something. It’s not an excuse but I want people to understand that the whole “I’m so angry I’m seeing red” thing and the “well they just snapped” thing happens, and it happens a lot. And it can be terrifying!

Most people don’t like being asshole. I don’t like being an asshole. I don’t like feeling like I should put a warning label on myself like “sometimes I’m a dick” because even that feels like something a dick would do.

But! I want more people to stand up to someone like me. Challenge people like me. Tell them it’s not appropriate or it’s not okay. Learn to leave a situation where the other person isn’t being compliant. You’re worth more than someone like me going “good” or “deal with it” when you tell them they’re upsetting you.

There’s a slogan out there that says “Fuck Politness”. And on the surface that seems like such an asshole thing to say! Aren’t we all entitled to politeness on a basic human level? We sure are- but that can be revoked.

“Fuck politeness” means that women shouldn’t have to worry about getting murdered for rejecting a man’s advances- and vice versa- at all, regardless of whether they were nice about it at all. “Fuck politeness” means if someone is giving you bad vibes, you’re allowed to end a conversation and remove yourself from the situation so you can feel safe again, regardless if it’s “polite” or not. “Fuck politeness” means not putting up with people and being such a people-pleaser to the point some day you might feel unsafe saying no.

Being punk isn’t “I love all my friends and I want a world where everyone gets along and we’re all happy and healthy and loved”. It’s not people pleasing. It’s learning how to say “no”. It’s learning how to firmly say “no”, and when that doesn’t work, it’s about forcefully saying “no”.

[funkymbtifiction]

Why do I seem to express my anger differently, depending on the people I am around?

Hi! I'm an INFP 9w1 and I've questioned this many times. It made me wonder if I'm really a 9.

So, from what I've read, angry 9s can either be passive agressive or ignore their negative emotions completely. Now, I identify with that... to an extent. When I'm with classmates, strangers or even best friends, I tend to avoid confrontation at all costs. Even if something is bothering me, I will either stay quiet or voice it in a very calm and polite manner as to not offend anyone (while also trying not to cry, bc I'm sensitive like that). I am very rarely passive aggressive with these types of people. Maybe just with my best friends, my sassy side wakes up, but it's very rarely, as the mere thought of getting into fights with them makes me anxious. But, if there is something that really rubs me the wrong way then I can get quite sarcastic and roll my eyes and retort.

With my family however, oh boy, it's a whole different story. I seem to get annoyed way easier by them than by others and when I get angry.... yeah, it's quite intense. I can throw fits and shout and cry because I am so angry. The fights usually result from me not wanting to do something because I'm a brat or my parents saying something that I found completely insulting and I just had to be vocal about it. Of course, there are times when I let it slide because I really don't want to fight. Like, I really don't. But, other times I just can't keep my mouth shut. I just need to make my opinion heard, partially because I feel like they've insulted me personally with what they said (about anything I'm passionate about, human right and politics, especially) and partially because I know they're wrong and I want to hit them with the correct facts. Otherwise, they'll keep believing that rubbish.

So, why is this haplening? Why am I so calm and polite and small around others, at max passive-agressive with friends, but really confrontational with family? Am I really a 9?

Thanks!

-----

Some of that is just IFP -- gotta speak my truth, you gotta deal with it -- but beyond that -- why do you think you are a 9? You can't hinge being one on one thing, and you can't cast doubts on it by lingering on the one thing that doesn't fit. What makes you a 9? Have you looked inside yourself at your motives and seen 9 apathy, lack of drive, confusion, passivity, etc., "in motion"? Have you gone asleep to yourself? If so, if the internal dialogue you experience fits the 9, if your relationship problems are 9, if your inner life is 9... you are a 9, regardless of whether you push back against your loved ones or not.

But it may also be worth considering 6, if you are passive with people you don't know (afraid of what they might do, or rejection) and push-back against the "authority" of your parents. It's also 6ish to get hung up on focusing on what "doesn't fit" instead of what does, and to fixate on it and question it endlessly... is that something you do a lot? Doubt and question and think about it and focus on what's inconsistent or seems wrong?

It sounds like you are either a reactive type or have a reactive wing (over-reactions, tantrums, screaming and crying) -- so if you stick with 9, you might look into 9w8 instead of 9w1.

[nenithil]

About Hans and Shadis, and their insight on humanity(1)

Hans is often regarded as too pure and naive, or doesn't that understand human nature(comparing to Erwin or Armin), has unrealistic illusions about human beings and over-idealized.She even rejects selfish desires, this impression particularly comes from C71, when she scolded Shadis: To give up the individual and dedicate the heart to the public, it's like that,isn't it?

It's a very powerful scene. At first glance, I also feel a kind of frightening moral cleanliness from their words, but combined with other plots, I don't think so.

On the contrary, I began to think that her eyesight and response to people's mind are very sharp. She has usually appeared very joyful, it's not because she is naive or only looked at the good aspects of the world, or really had a very happy life,but because she focused on objective work and generally would not be distracted from those kinds of nonsense.

There are many descriptions of this kind of things in smartpass. For example: In  "crimes inside the wall", Levi mentioned that the Survey Corps often cooperates with some members from aristocracy in gray areas for financial needs: "There are not a few rich men who make use of criminals... For example, smuggling or assassinating opponents in trade. They are too professional to be tracked. Even if they are unluckily caught, they could just deny that they knew it. Before, there are some just  soldiers who tracked them down. Finally, they found that the behind the scenes was actually the sponsor of the corps. Similar events emerge one after another." Eren was very angry when he heard this, which made Levi even wonder if he said too much to youngsters. He went back to discuss it with Hans. Hans replied: "If it's something you will know sooner or later, it doesn't matter whenever you say it." "Teaching new people what's reality is an important task for senior superiors! I don't think you did anything wrong, Levi."

And in smartpass about Eren: When she first met ERen, she performed  psychological investigations on Eren, asked him about his dreams and made some comments, which showed that she at least knew psychology well. She even said to Eren: "Apart from the fact that you can shift into a titan, you seem to be an ordinary kid,  Eren." "I mean, at least, I don't feel some violent nature from you, like what they discussed in the court." It doesn't really matter whether Eren is an ordinary child, but Hans's words could greatly comfort Eren, who was regarded as a monster, anxious and self doubted at that time. What she said would make him feel closer to the Corps.  She made her comments on him on practical purposes, not to show her judgment.

This reminds me of her comfort to Mikasa in the Manga during "midnight sun". In order to prevent Mikasa from snatching injection,  she expressed her understanding and closeness to Mikasa's pain and told her, "but we have to move forward".

she accurately saw that Mikasa was not really that kind of people who only cared about the life of her own friends, totally disregarding for the lives of others,but was just unwilling to let it go for the moment. So she chose comfort rather than admonishment.

She don't need much cover up with her words, but always enter the truest part of the heart.

We can imagine  what will happen,if she criticized Mikasa for "only caring for personal desires and ignoring the interest of public"and asked Mikasa to" give up her personal feelings and devote yourself to mankind ",as any critics did in some forum. She can stop Mikasa  not only because of her kindness but also her wisdom.

In smartpass:Shelter from the Rain ：Hange&Jean，she also showed her interest and understand of 104: "At present, people who can make calm judgments are very valuable." Hange said this because she had come into contact with the "power" of Jean's contemporaries,and she knew that they could not be controlled merely by giving orders as a superior. "Armin is smart, and he's always been self-abase about his lack of strength... I think we have to get him on our side..."

There are a lot of details like this in smartpass. Even for Erwin, who is generally considered the most enigmatic, Hange offered a rather unique perspective in his  personal interview:

Hange： Charismatic, unshakeable faith, he would not mind sacrificing himself or others for the goal…well, he tries to maintain that kind of outer appearance. Hange: He might not be too happy if I say too much out loud. What I told you just now, it might be something that he shows to the public…however, even if you were to peel off that appearance, you still wouldn’t be able to see his true personality. That’s my personal opinion about it. H: Even so, he is someone that we can trust. If we leave the situation to Erwin he will evaluate it, and we therefore rely on the commander. If he wasn’t trustworthy, he would have been stabbed in the back. This is not something that is only limited to a commander though.

She haven't idealized Erwin so much, but regarded his appearance as  "shows to the public,"  she confessed her doubts about his true personality and haven't even overestimated his morality,or selflessness, as Levi did. She just said pragmatically that if he would make the right decisions, I would trust him

In her own interview, she said: Erwin’s active support of my research has been very helpful. And I’ve heard that he also has doubts about how this world was formed?

She thanked Erwin for his support and then without further comment, but she clearly caught the core desire of Erwin: doubts about how this world was formed

If regardless of smartpass, she also showed her sharpness towards humanity many times in the manga: C52 her threat to Sannes:

She accurately summarized the reasons that ordinary people would use to make excuses for doing evil.

This is also why she can quickly come up with a ferocious plan to deceive Sannes into confession. She knows their kind well

Similarly, in C60, when facing journalists who wrote false news and slandered their dead subordinates, she also showed tolerance for weakness of human, and performed her skill of getting closer to others.

She may have succeeded in persuading Fregel,who would rather live a miserable life, in similar way (the manga doesn't describe it in detail, and I doubt even Isayama doesn't know how to write.

She is regarded as an "over idealistic" commander, but she still said such words:

Her words have described Hizuru's intention to monopolize resources, which can only be inferred by herself. At the same time, she also speculated that countries regard eldia as a scapegoat to maintain their domestic unity. It shows that she has basic insight and understanding of politics. Particularly, if compared with Armin:

... well, I don't know why Isym wrote like this. Armin is  not like a naive kid to ask suchquestions. I regard it as a simple emotional vent. Here I can even understand why Eren showed such a disdainful face,Lmao

Hans obviously won't believe Mikasa's words, which are indeed too simple, but their kindness did give Hans some strength, or positive feelings, making her focus on what she can do - surveying and understanding the world, striving for friendship with others, rather than what can't be changed- all countries are selfish, they deceive citizens and don't mind doing harm to others in order to maintain their "rule".

PS: the plots that I like most about Mikasa in manga almost are with Hans. I'm happy to guess that Hans gets along well with individual having this kind of character (like Levi)

These are my views on this side of Hans. She can see and master the complex and dark side of people skillfully, although she still tends to look at the good side of them. She treats other as human-being with their own weakness and  uniqueness. She would not judge others without considering the specific situation

So about C71, I think what she said to Shadis was not because she is too naive, or being so strict with others to ask them to give up their personal desire, but because of the special relationship between them.

TBC..

[voxofthevoid]

Fandom Etiquette 101: Don’t Be a Dick in the Comment Box

Actually, just don’t be a dick, period, but if you must, then don’t do it in the comment box.

I wouldn’t say I have a thick skin. Things don’t roll off me. I get hurt, I get irritated, and I get incandescently angry.

Thing is, I also have a certain amount of faith in my skills—writing skills, in this case—that has been cultivated by roughly a decade of practice and the experience that comes along with it. I am also not under the impression that my work lacks flaws. Some of these flaws are born of inattention because I write for fun in my free time—time that’s growing more and more sparse as school turned to college turned to grad school turned to a full-time job. Plus, I’ve long since accepted that artistic growth is a never-ending process.

So even if I don’t have a thick skin, if someone shits on my work, I won’t stop writing or doubt myself. I’ll just get royally pissed at the little shit who has the audacity to come into my goddamned yard and tell me how to mow my goddamned lawn.

A lot of writers react the way I do. Others don’t. Be it because they’re newer, more nervous, rejection sensitive, or just have different personalities, the fact remains that a lot of writers will be disheartened, devastated, and/or discouraged by negative feedback. There’s nothing wrong with that.

No writer should have to deal with people being assholes about something they created out of love and shared for free so others sharing that love can partake. Fanfic is free in terms of money, but a ton of emotion and labor goes into it. My work involves staring at MS Word for a minimum of eight hours a day to poke at and pick apart language; it’s not easy to do it for a couple more hours to write and polish that writing. Now, that’s my choice, and one I make because I damn well want to, but the point is that it’s a great deal of effort.

A large part of what makes it worth it is the fandom. Yes, I write for myself, because there are stories in me that want out, and no, I won’t let others dictate  what I write or the way I write it. But reader engagement is a gift—a treasured one. The interactions, the conversations, the sense of a larger community—all of that means a lot to me. I think most, though likely not all, fic writers will agree on that. For me, every Ao3 email heralding a comment brings with it a thrilling jolt of pleasure.

But the sweetness of that jolt turns sour very fast if the comment in question contains negativity. And I do mean contain. A comment doesn’t have to be wholly hateful or dismissive to ruin a writer’s day. Criticism sandwich is all well and good to those who’ve asked for constructive criticism, but to those that haven’t, that sandwich will just taste like shit, regardless of how delicious the padding. Tumblr has many long, in-depth discussion posts about unsolicited concrit, so I won’t rehash everything here. Suffice to say that not all writers are using fanfic as practice for “real” writing, nor do all of us aim to actively improve. And the ones who do want constructive criticism often have trusted betas or writing groups for that purpose. Unsolicited criticism dropped into the comment section of a published work isn’t as constructive as the commenter fancies it to be.

And then there are those comments that don’t bother with the sandwich method or any niceties. I’ve seen plenty of these in both my works and those of others, and they range from comically insulting to polite but infuriating. Honestly, I find the former to be easier to handle—if someone’s being an asshole in my inbox, it’s simple enough to tell them to fuck off. The nicely phrased ones are trickier, for obvious reasons. But fact is, if someone has read thousands of words and can only leave a comment pointing out some drawback— for instance, a typo, some factual inaccuracy, OOCness, or even continuity errors—then the problem lies with the reader, not the writer. But the writer, who’s often the one more emotionally attached to and invested in their craft, is the one who bears the brunt of the damage.

They shouldn’t have to. We shouldn’t have to.

So, to reiterate, don’t be a dick in the comment box. If you have nothing nice to say, hush and click that pretty red X. If the writer hasn’t asked for concrit, don’t give it. If you liked the story but have the burning urge to tell the writer everything they got wrong, take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself some hard questions.

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter ten

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairings: levi ackerman x reader / eren jaeger x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 2135

You took a few steps on your own today. It was fleeting before you fell on your ass, but it was progress nonetheless. You were grateful to hear Hange's excited squeals, and Jean and Connie's brotherly encouragement, but it felt difficult to allow a smile to cross your face. Something was bothering you today.

When Jean dropped you off, you saw no sign of Levi despite the setting sun. You were alone with your thoughts for what felt like the first time in a while; six days felt so long to you for some reason, and the past month felt like at least a year. Something had been nagging at the back of your mind all day -- distracting you from your physical therapy, preventing you from laughing with your friends, allowing unneeded stress into your already overwhelmed mind.

That morning, on your way to meet Hange, you were hanging from Jean's arm as you limped through the growing grass. He was still making jokes about Levi, now calling him your boyfriend, but you entertained it. The two of you could barely get any words in between your howls of laughter, until a single pair of green eyes managed to ruin your mood completely. Eren was sat atop a wooden fence, Armin sitting crosslegged on one side of him while Mikasa stood on the other. You let your eyes dance freely over to him for a second, but that was an awful decision. He was already looking at you intently. He offered you a small smile, but you could see that his eyes were sad. You smiled back.

Even if you didn't want to be with Eren, it still hurt that he never came back to talk to you. As you stared at the ceiling above, you wondered if you were a bad person. Eren was a good guy, you thought, and you did lead him on to some extent. You wondered for a moment if you should've given it a chance, then shook your head at yourself. It would be completely unfair to him to pretend you felt something that you didn't; then again, the current situation wasn't fair to him either. You were perpetually trapped between a rock and a hard place.

You rubbed your eyes before running both hands through your hair, pulling just slightly. You found yourself, strangely enough, wishing that Levi was there. It was nice to have someone that you could talk endlessly to and yet still share long, comfortable silences. He was decent company. Your ears and face perked up as you heard the door start open, but it wasn't Levi.

"Hey, can we talk?" Eren stood timidly in the doorway awaiting your answer, his face drawn in like he was expecting a harsh "no." Blood rushed to your cheeks, and you sat up hurriedly. You were sure that your anxiety was prominent on your face.

"Yeah, of course," you answered calmly, attempting to regain your composure. Eren walked in and took a seat in Levi's chair, looking down. It reminded you of how he looked when you rejected him -- defeated, yet still attempting to maintain his pride. He opened his mouth many times before he actually began to speak, leaving you wondering if you should be the one to start this dreaded conversation.

"I'm sorry for leaving like that, and for not coming back. I --" he coughed like something was caught in his throat. "Um, sorry. This is a little bit awkward for me," he chuckled uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. "I just wanted to take a few minutes to talk about it."

"Yeah, for sure," you gulped. Your vision flitted desperately around the room for anything to latch onto besides his sad green eyes. "I wanted to say I'm sorry, you know. I didn't know you felt that way; honestly, I didn't know if I felt that way, either. I liked things the way they were. I never meant to hurt you," you told him, your racing heart beginning to beat a smidgen more slowly. You tried your best to smile at him. It likely came off as more of a frown.

He nodded slowly, his eyes still brimming with melancholy and his face still tense as stone. "I liked things the way they were, too. I shouldn't have tried to take it further; I guess I just felt like we were going somewhere.  I shouldn't have left you here like that either. I just wish none of this would've ever happened," he admitted, rubbing between his glassy eyes with his right hand. "The time we spent together was always really nice, wasn't it?"

Your breath caught in your throat as you nodded. "It was." You could feel it coming before it came, a feeling of pure dread washing over you as he leaned closer toward you. You felt the smallest bit of curiosity join in, too.

"I miss you," he confessed quietly as his lips closed in on yours. When you allowed him to kiss you, you didn't expect it to be so passionate. His hand caressed your cheek so gently, and his lips slid past yours so softly. His other hand rested on your thigh, his thumb drawing circles. It all felt so -- wrong. When he pulled away, you knew without a doubt how you felt. Entertaining it would help nothing. You sighed internally, wondering how to let him down a second time.

"Eren, I don't know --" He shushed you, clearly misunderstanding your tone. He started to lean in again, and you swallowed. "Eren, I don't want this." He leaned away quickly, taking his hands away from your body to land defeatedly in his lap.

You saw a tinge of anger in his eyes before he cast them to the floor. You fidgeted awkwardly and wondered what to say next, but he beat you to it. "You're hard to read, you know. It seemed like you really wanted me -- before I said I wanted you, at least. Is that what did it? Did I move too fast?"

If there's anything you knew, it was to take an out when you had one. "Yeah, honestly. I'm not sure what would have happened if you hadn't. Regardless, though, I don't feel that way about you. I'm not sure if I would have, but honestly, probably not." It was the truth; you considered for a moment that he had you all figured out. Then again, how could he know more about you than you did? The two of you had messed around for what, a week and a half?

"Ouch." You watched his previously soft and sad face harden into anger. "I wish you wouldn't have led me on like this. I wouldn't have done anything with you if I didn't feel at least something small. You should be ashamed."

You drew in a quick breath, bordering on a gasp, as your mind raced to find a suitable reply. The hatred dripping from his voice left your mouth slightly agape, hundreds of words forming behind your tongue but never reaching past your lips. You felt small tears prick at your eyes; whether they were from sadness, anger, or shame was unknown to you.

"I think it may be time to go, Eren," you heard Levi speak from the door, two teacups in one hand and the pot in the other. How incriminating. You figured Levi thought nothing of it -- he rarely ever saw the same nuance behind certain gestures that others tended to notice, like a young, female soldier having nightly tea with her superior after being reprimanded for having sex with another scout while on duty. You hoped Eren was too angry to notice.

He wasn't. He looked up at you, eyes still full of anger but his mouth drawn up in disgust. He got up rather roughly, the chair rattling a bit as he stalked toward the door. "Thanks for the talk. Goodnight, Captain," he muttered as he left.

Levi strode in like nothing had happened, setting up the table and taking a seat, as he had done five times before. You stared at him, knowing your eyes were still widened. When he began to pour the tea, you struggled to hold in a laugh. He paused, looking over at you inquisitively. "Did I do something funny?" he asked, concerned. You watched the eyebrow lift. Always that eyebrow.

"Oh, Levi," you sighed. "You brought a tea set to my infirmary room when no one is typically here, and someone saw you. The fact that you showed up at all is incriminating."

Levi scoffed, continuing to pour the tea. "I thought something serious was happening. Not everyone has a mind like you and Jean. I doubt that it would be anyone's first thought." He set the pot down and looked back up at you. He rested his arms on either side of the cup, shaking his head.

"It was the first thought in Eren's. Didn't you see how angry he looked?" you questioned. Surely, you thought, he wasn't that oblivious.

"Sure it was. Eren's always angry. Plus, he was jealous," he said bluntly, finally taking a sip of his tea. Everything he did was so nonchalant.

It stung a little, being pulled back to your conversation with Eren. You hated how angry he was, but you figured nothing could be done. You nodded, sighing, and lifted your cup in response to him. "Yeah, he was pretty upset."

"He wasn't upset, he was pissed. He wasn't being very polite to you, and you looked like you were about to cry. How long had he been on like that?" One thing you had learned about Levi that you didn't know before is that he was incredibly curious.

"You showed up pretty much as soon as he got angry. Before that he was all sad and stuff. It took him a while to actually understand what I was trying to tell him," you told him, the tiniest bit embarrassed. Talking to Levi was easy, but not without its reservations.

"And you were trying to tell him . . .?"

"When I first got hurt, Eren came to see me. He started talking about how I meant a lot to him. I guess you could say it freaked me out. I told him I didn't feel the same way and basically broke things off," you began, one hand tugging at your hair. Levi listened intently.

"That's a valid reaction," he commented as he sipped his tea. "I would do the same."

Joke or otherwise, it drew a laugh out of you before you continued. "He stormed out, and I hadn't spoken to him since, until today. He showed up unannounced and told me he wanted to talk. I was a little embarrassed and anxious, but I didn't mind it. I didn't have any issues with him being here."

"Of course not."

"So we talked about it. I was trying to avoid hurting his feelings, but I think he completely misunderstood. I was trying to tell him that I don't feel that way about him. Instead of getting that and moving on, he goes the other route and tells me he misses me. Then he kissed me. I started to tell him that I didn't know if I was comfortable with that, but he just tried to kiss me again. He finally got it when I told him no, and that's when he got pissed off. That's when you showed up." You drank from your cup, waiting for Levi's response. It was unlikely, you thought, but maybe he had some advice.

He sat there for a moment, thinking. After a few long seconds, he set down his teacup and reached his hand out to you. The gesture was foreign, but not nearly as foreign as the feeling when his fingers brushed your knuckles and his palm came to rest on the back of your hand. None of the rest of his body moved, no leaning in or smirking lips. Just a single comforting touch. "Are you okay?" he asked as you stared conspicuously at his hand atop yours.

You nodded your head at him. "I'm fine. I just wasn't looking forward to that conversation. It didn't go nearly as well as I had hoped," you admitted, chewing the inside of your lip. "It was pretty upsetting when he spoke to me that way."

He pulled his hand away and went back to his tea, his eyes understanding. "It'll be fine. I don't think you were in the wrong, if that helps anything."

You weren't really listening, still staring down at your hand. The warmth from his hand was fading, but something else wasn't. It tingled all over, in every spot he had touched.

How strange.

[echo-of-sounds]

being rejected

Small headcanons of how Aizawa, Toshinori, Hizashi, and Gang Orca would react to being rejected. 

This, uh, this hurt to write. I don’t want them in pain. They deserve love and appreciation.

Aizawa Shouta

Relationships aren’t a priority to Shouta. It takes a while for the emotions to register and for him to conclude if you’re worth his time. Then he needs to finalize his feelings about you. His hopes tell him you’ll reciprocate the attraction. The rare optimism inside his heart tells him you’ll accept, happy he finally asked you out. If those scarce feelings weren’t there to drive him, he wouldn’t spend as much time with you as he does. 

When his mind’s made up, he waits until you’re alone to invite you on a date. At your awkward decline, you’d never be able to detect his feelings or thoughts. The usual flat expression is somehow flatter. His face and voice appear empty. It’s grim, almost sad, mournful, hardly reacting to your answer, unable to vocalize the distress he’s in.

After a few stiff, silent seconds, he nods, bids you goodnight, and walks away. From then on out, your interactions with him don’t change much. He’s his normal lethargic, grumpy self. But you’ll notice he isn’t as talkative with you as he used to be. He’s no master conversationalist with anyone, but he made an effort with you. And now that effort’s disappeared. You were just another person in the room for him to ignore.

Shouta struggles and he hates it. He can’t really interpret the emotions. Any delicate desires, any romantic thoughts that pop up, get shoved down on instinct. This time, he didn’t do that. He let them rise. Being romantically involved with someone finally excited him. You could have understood all his heart and all his troubles. And he would’ve allowed you. He wanted to let you in. The fears and loves that flood your chest when you lay yourself bare, granting someone else access to your past and future, he wanted to experience with you.

Yet, only a couple of words crumbled all those desires. He got sentimental about them before it even happened, allowing juvenile dreams to influence him. Your rejection made him remember that his life would not end up like that. Being a Hero was risky. Being a teacher was time-consuming. A partner just didn’t fit in and now he admitted it. 

Afterward, any romantic thoughts that rose, regardless of how strong, were completely ignored. His troubles and nightmares and deep desires were his own. Intimacy ran risks of them getting hurt- risks he didn’t want to take again. He wouldn’t be able to handle someone seeing them, then damaging them. Shouta was by himself. He must accept it.

Yagi Toshinori

Out of everyone, Toshinori waits the longest to ask anyone out. The idea of someone truly being interested in him is a distant dream. Regardless of that distance, your smile and aura are radiant. Your conversations and interests softy enchant him, invoking images of a happy future together. It reignites that nearly dead flame inside. 

Eventually he’ll conclude to ask you on a date. He gifts you a single flower, then wonders if you’d join in for dinner. Your gentle turndown guts him. He desperately wants to hide his grief. But you can see his eyebrows turn and light fade from his eyes. Whatever joy that held his shoulders steady, abandoned him as the flame died. Before you can say anything else, he acknowledges your answer, politely excuses himself, and leaves you alone with the flower.

Your friendship is still important to him. He tries his hardest not to let the blunder hinder that because he values you and wants to stay friends. However, it’ll be impossible for you to not notice how he doesn’t approach you when you enter the room like he used to, smiling, willing to talk about anything. Or how he avoids your eyes when you pass each other in the hall. Or how he drifts from you, tiny little bit by tiny little bit. It’s slow, gradually detaching from your friendship until one day you look back and realize you haven’t spoken in months. 

No matter how wounded and alone Toshi feels, he doesn’t blame you. If anything, he agrees that no one would want to be with a sick, injured, powerless man. And the incident turns him off of relationships for a while, if not forever. He’d rather be ill and lonely than ill, lonely, and hurt… 

Because Toshinori is incredibly hurt and confused and terrified. He knew it would turn out this way. He tried to find happiness. The hope for intimacy and the craving for something more led him astray. It was childish to think you would be any different. He knew it would be this way, yet he still tried. He still hoped. He still dreamed of romance, a happy future, a chance to love, a chance to be loved, a chance to feel safe and cherished. But he won’t be. Those feelings and dreams aren’t for him. And now he understands that, so he’s left alone and scared.

Yamada Hizashi

Hizashi’s been in relationships. Sometimes they work out, sometimes they end in heartbreak, and sometimes they don’t even start. Different people have caught his eye. Depending on his life at the time and how special they were, he’d decide if they were worth it. Once you came along, something about your energy and laughter sparked his interest. He wanted you.

He’d invite you to a concert or bar. The way he worded it made it seem like a friendly get-together. Then you show up and the general feel is warmly intimate, not some social gathering. Your quiet discomfort tells Hizashi you weren’t there for a romantic time. To salvage the evening, he relaxes the atmosphere for a fun night out. At the end of the night, he apologizes for the mix-up and expresses how he hopes your friendship will last after his screw-up. His jovial personality makes it easy to move past.

Hizashi doesn’t take it to heart at first. Infatuations, crushes, and relationships come and go. But as the weeks go on and he remains just a friend, little pangs begin to nag his chest. There was something special about you. He wanted to understand everything about you, physically, emotionally, romantically, and intimately. He wanted to be the man you turned to when you’re scared and happy and excited and disappointed. But now he knows that’s not his place. Your heart is searching for another and he accepts that. Your friendship is enough because he couldn’t stand completely losing you. 

Those twinges never fully disappear. Hizashi cares and cries and experiences with all his heart, something so few can do. Every lover he’s ever had remains in his thoughts, feelings, and soul. When the time comes where you find the one, hugging and kissing them with your profoundly stunning smile, those pangs he thought he conquered long ago return. They aren’t as sundering as they used to be. Yet, the instant he’s alone in the bathroom, his eyes are watering and his legs are shaking, remembering just how deeply and wholly he cared for you.

Gang Orca

Kugo is incredibly hesitant to start a relationship. It’s new territory. When you happen along, he’s simply drawn towards you, wanting to spend plenty of time by your side. Romantic feelings brew, creeping higher into his heart. Once a stable friendship is built, he starts helping you with your daily tasks, trying to suss out if you reciprocate the feelings. 

After the eternity it takes for him to decide, he asks you on a date one quiet night while you’re hanging out. It’s surprising by how out of left field it is. You don’t have to respond. Your frozen face is enough. Damn near everything in him sinks. His heart’s so rarely been exposed. It’s the rawest part of him and all it took was your expression to break it. To save himself the clawing bitterness, he apologizes for ruining your night, asks if you could forgive his oversight, and leaves.

As much as it hurts him too, he respects your decision. It doesn’t change how beautiful you are and how endearing your voice is and how cute your outfits are and how welcoming and inviting your- He must stop thinking like that. It’ll only make the rejection worse. 

It’ll take a while for your friendship to return to normal. Kugo spends a bit of time alone, stressing and berating himself. Is it his appearance? His job? Did he do something wrong? Did he hurt you? Insult you? Annoy you? He wants to be angry that he’s sensitive. He almost wants to hate it, hate you. Maybe it’ll be easier that way. But he can’t. You don’t deserve it. You did nothing wrong. 

And even though this experience was painful, the desire for love and intimacy and family and appreciation and a true, deep connection with someone keeps Kugo’s heart yearning, hoping. He just wants love. What about him isn’t worthy of it? Why won’t someone love him?

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket,Se03, Ep 8 (part 2)

I finally got my answer on how will kyo’s confession of kyoko will be & how tohru will react. I love the writing, the pacing, the monologue, the dialogue, the facial expressions, tohru’s reaction, kyo’s rejection & tohru’s shock. Even yuki & akito’s involvement! All of it was a chef’s kiss!

I went & watched lots of eps of se01 & 2 & I’m loving all the hints they dropped abt kyo & how his trauma was looming over him all. this. damn. time! Unfortunately, it has reminded me of how much tohru’s own character exploration was diminished in favor of her being the angelic mother & the sohma’s fixer! but moving on & focusing on her shining moment now! I’ll explore her character here with regards of her trauma, real hidden character & future development.

Kyo’s rejection is the best thing that has ever happened to tohru:

(don’t hate me before you read!) XD~ just like you, I’m mad at kyo for hurting tohru & I feel her pain. However, the writer didn’t write this with a sadistic desire to hurt us. Kyo’s rejection is the core of the entire story as it is not only connected to kyo’s trauma, but tohru’s growth & yuki’s emotional involvement with the two, as well as akito’s insecurities. I have explained in my review( part 1) how kyo rejecting tohru was a logical progression of kyo’s trauma, the only possible outcome from his perspective, & the themes tied with such decision. Now, I’ll explain why this rejection is good for tohru in the long run:

1. Showing the hidden ugly side: (The timid, shy, self-sacrificing girl is angry!): Tohru’s entire consciously constructed personality is borrowed from elements in her mom & dad’s life:

She mimicked her dad’s overly polite style to prove that she is indeed his daughter, so her mom won’t be called w*ore & to console her mom, so she wont leave her. She has deep low self-worth issues. I gotta become someone else to be loved.

she has inner fear of bringing shame to her mom’s name, wants to always be the good girl so mom’s get praised for raising her. Thus, hiding ugly aspects such as anger, loud voice & frustration.

She wants to prove that her mom chose right by not neglecting her. wishes to be worth needing & loving for her own self.

All she ever wanted since being a 4 year old child is her mom. No other desire for anything else at all. Since her mom’s death, she’s been lost on what to do, who to be, what to want! then it came to her to stick to her mom’s memory & live for her. Living for a dead person is a self-sacrifice decision. Tohru just didn’t see herself outside of her mom’s influence.  

Ever since meeting kyo, he has been encouraging real aspects of her character: be selfish, complain, cry, get mad, yell, look pathetic, expose unflattering thoughts, show undesirable side, ask for things, no, DEMAND things. She has been reluctantly following his advice & only showing that to him. His confession & inability to accept her love has lead her to show the real hidden tohru behind the “ i’m okay” mask:

The timid, always smiling girl is now showing anger, frustration, stubbornness & determination.

screaming her heart out: “ i don’t believe my mom would say that” stating her opinion in firm voice.

 “even if she did, I have to go against her” the real tohru shows her explosive personality that was buried deep down! it is NOT mom’s life anymore. It is MINE. I decide. I choose. I want. My decisions.

“ why can’t you see that?” argues with him. Tohru, who is soft-spoken & tends to get flustered  when others insist, is now questioning his decision with passion & fierceness!

“ I love you no matter what”. Say what toy want. look at yourself as a monster, a murderer, a loser or a coward. I don’t care what your brain or trauma makes you think. I see the real YOU & it is my decision! I love you ugly & pretty, sad & happy, broken or strong, coward or brave. I take it all & no one is fooling me or changing my mind. I’m my own person & I chose YOU. 

 2. Letting go of attachments: Learning to LIVE:

Tohru’s attachment to her mom isn’t healthy. It’s  toxic as it hinders her from being her own person. To be able to love kyo, she lets go of “ listening to mommy’s words” . Apparently, her mom condemned kyo as unforgivable. Tohru knows the real kyo & doesn’t even care for forgiveness despite her mom’s alleged words. Breaking the toxic bond. She formed a healthier bond with kyo. However, if kyo is unable to accept this love. what would tohru do? die?? kill herself?? kyoko wasn't able to continue to love her husband cuz he died. her reaction was neglecting her daughter & roaming away in utter grief. Tohru mustn’t follow her mom’s example. Not all loved ones leave us out of hate. Some leave each other cuz of death (kyoko/tohru), ( kyoko/ katsuya), Others might leave each other out of current traumatic pain, mental health, emotional hindrance despite loving each other so dearly (kyo/tohru). If kyo despite his immense love to tohru, can’t forgive himself, they won’t be together. tohru can cry, scream, yell, but if he doesn't overcome his issues & come back, tohru gotta let go. She gotta learn to let go & not kill herself over what she cant have.

Kyo, on the opposite, gotta learn to hold on to loved ones! Let go of pain but hold on to real ppl not dead ghosts of the past. He must learn to act on his own desire & need for tohru. Only when he forgives himself, he’ll hold on to her. It is then, that tohru will decide again if she’ll have him or not.

3- Wanting things doesn't mean you WILL have them: (You are enough by yourself- moderation)

tohru wants kyo, the first thing she has ever wanted. However, she won’t  automatically get him just because she now learned to demand things. There are obstacles that can stop that. Tohru must accept kyo’s inability to be with her now & live healthily regardless. This ties to akito as well. She wants the zodicas but she cant have them! Emotional distance separate them. What will akito do if she can’t have what she wants? kill kurno? kill tohtru? kill herself? will this bring the zodiacs back? NO. You are enough by yourself. She needs to let go & learn to accept that love means acceptance between the involved parties, emotional connection isn't enough.

-Realistic depiction of romantic relationship progression: (thro better & worse). EPIC writing!

It is indeed fate that brought tohru back in kyo’s path 4 months after her mom’s death & the they do share a mutual past: kyoko. However, fervor grateful to the author for writing them falling in love together isn’t due to fate, coincidence, mutual past or similar personalities. Kyo consciously avoided tohru while tohru herself struggled to understand kyo initially. The author spend valuable time building their romantic relation based on mundane daily life activities. They themselves don’t quite know when exactly that they fell in love. when they recalled falling in love, we see them cooking together, talking, walking, eating, studying & opening up abt small struggles.

It is genius that the writer will add yet another realistic aspect. While kyo was able to read tohru & approach her when she’s down, this doesn't mean he magically understood her & will forever be on the same page & never ever hurt each other at all. If you fell in love, you are bound to be hurt by the person who loves you back as much as be happy together. It is realistic!!! Adding miscommunication & personality differences enrich the relationship. This relationship isn’t just fluffy & lovey dovey. They have realistic issues that they need to work on by communicating. Even communication  wont solve their quarrel if it isn’t done in the right time & with the right desire to connect.

-The weight & future lessons learned from of “ I’m disappointed in you” for both kyo & tohru:

Right now kyo is too emotional to connect & tohru herself is too emotional to understand his response. Tohru understands his pain but her low self-esteem prevents her from seeing that he is rejecting being loved , not rejecting her. He is not rejecting tohru as a person but rejecting kyo as a person deserving love. Thanks to his “ i’m disappointed in you” which really leaves no room for interpretation from tohru’s perspective. I love that!!!! Kyo isn’t good with words. This has been clear from ep 1, his actions has always been his love language, but now he couples bad words “ i’m disappointed in you” with bad actions: running away. This is a perfect opportunity to build their future relationship on a solid foundation: ( off course I’m not belittling their current emotions, I understand why each is very broken now, but I’m talking abt future learning lessons)

Kyo’s current mistake: While him rejecting tohru is justified by the extreme trauma & is logical from his perspective. This doesn’t mean it isnt’t hurtful to her. He chose hurtful words to push her away mimicking how he pushed her in the true form arc. Perfect example of justified mistake yet still a wrong mistake. Thus, kyo needs to learn the effect of his words, he shouldn’t be punished for the past, for tings her cant control, nor for fate. But he should take responsibilities of the present, of what he actually says & does right now.  He must fix this mistake with tohru. This is a mistake that CAN be fixed. someone that he CAN get back. a mistake he CAN stop repeating.He CAN hold on to her with immense desire yet allow room for her to decide for herself.

Tohru’s current mistake: Seeing herself solely thro being loved by kyo. she cant see that he indeed loves her cuz he rejected her. Rejection in tohru’s mind equal lack of love. Her mom left her, thus her mom didnt love her. This respective is very justified due to her trauma, & it is logical that she reached this conclusion. She isnt in his head, she cant know whats in his heart if his words say sth else. However, having a logical perspective doesn't mean it is right. it is still wrong to solely exist thro what you can see & hear. Real emotions run deeper. We must take things with moderate approach. Tohru needs to have higher self-esteem, to allow room for misunderstanding without completely breaking down. In her future life, she’ll be in lots of situations where ppl could hurt her intentionally or unintentionally. She needs to take things with calmer pace & open the door in her mind for doubt & better judgement. As much as loved ones words hurt, to build a healthy relationship, you must leave room for communication & misunderstanding. Hence, you’ll get closer & closer. 

Side Notes:

 I love tohru’s faulty attachment thro only being loved back exactly as she pictures in her mind. it is so human, so real, & so endearing! Very opposite of se01 & 2 image of her being the wise, device-giving mother with right thing to say & do. Screw that unrealistic image! allow tohru to be real! best ep ever! Hopefully, no more of this tohru!

Kyo’s constant repeat of mistakes is the best character trope done right! so realistic. It is genius that the author used this trope to humanize the demonic cat spirit!! what screams human better than the most annoying human trait: repeating mistakes!!!!  Kyo, my son! it’s time to learn! cant wait to see how the author will do that.

young boy/ adult woman friendship? Was that ever made without  disgusting sexualizion? kyoko isnt much of a mom figure to kyo, she tells me abt a husband, child neglect mistakes, custody! he calls her old hag & pushes her! XD. it is friendship!!

i’m mad they didnt focus on tohru’s face when she screamed at kyo confessing her love.. that's tohru moment. Why pan on yuki? you could’ve showed his reaction after she spoke. The same thing was done when tohru confessed to Isuzu!-_-! loved her angry face tho, it was beautifully drawn, so thanks for that. XD

Yuki is forever the best tohru/kyo shipper & the best tohru-happiness defender. I love how he runs after kyo & yet checks on tohru! I’m curious tho, he didnt hear any of kyo/kyoko confession as he was asleep, only the the “ forgive/not forgive line” so, he’ll be wondering forgive what? tohru’s mom knows kyo? I’m excited on how they’ll put things into context. also, I LOVE YUKI.

I’m forever thankful that everything akito is pushed into next ep. The knife wielding action & akito’s dramatic outbursts would’ve stolen from the emotional weight of kyo’s confession. Kyo’s secret is the core of furuba since ep, 1, the entire dynamics of kyo/tohru/yuki /kyoko/ hat is established based on this ep. Shoving akito, too, would create the same annoying train bullet feeling of momiji’s & tohru’s ep (ep 5 & 6). Emotional scenes pushed together with lesser time for the respective characters to have their well-deserved focus.

This is the most I am attached & satisfied with furuba! it scares me since ep 9 continues the climax. My fears of potential dramatic animation since the knife is there! moreover, akito’s own animation is always over the top. I hope they tone it down to portray her as a human more than a maniac.

Also, I hope they dont drag the climax more than that. What more you can shove in the dramatic raining weather. Tohru/kyo scene here matched the true arc scene bringing back parallel. Now akito/tohru raining scene next ep will match se02, ep10 scene. Now, what will the author do to defuse the climax? Often writing the falling action is harder than the climax itself. Falling action doesnt mean happy times & solving issues. It means dealing with the consequences of the climax. Let’s see what the writer has in store.

Based on the flashbacks, Kyoko didnt have ill feelings with kyo!!!! Until the last time he saw her as a child, she was happy with him. Even when he pushed her, she took it as a childlike behavior. at the accident, she didnt have much time to have any ill feelings. No way she thought he pushed her, no way she thought he could’ve saved her. So if she really recognized him, why would she say “ I wont forgive you”? it doesnt make sense at all. Kyoko doesn't hate kyo!!!! So, either he imagined, which is sth that I’ll hate so much! I spent so much emotions attached to a non existant words! NO. plz! NO!! Other possibility, she said sth else closer to the words! but then again how would we know? I NEED to know! ~ as expected, I’m still attached to this damn line! XD. 

Kyo depressed in the mountains after kyoko’s death was very vaguely referenced in (1) se01, ep24 when kyo talked to kazuma! oh shoot! (2) in se02, sp 2 when kazuma thought back to kyo nearly killing himself in depression before meeting the dad, (3) in se02, ep 9 when kyo trampled on the flower! oof! i love this subtle style of writing! connecting the emotional dots! EPIC!

Various characters throut seasons 1, 2 & 3 noticed the real gentle kyo towards tohru: (1) Isuzu’s “ I hope tohru meets someone like haru, to gently open the door” se02, ep19. (2) Momiji having faith that kyo is the right person for tohru & pushing him, (3) yuki constantly musing over tohru/kyo love & drawing inspiration on wanting “ his own person to love like them” (3) Kisa saying kyo is kind to tohru se3, (4) shigure saying, you are exclusively kind to tohru se02, (5) Airisa saying, when will kyo confess in se01, (6) hana saying, marry my sister in the play & pushing him to not be locked! (7) yuki kicking him for saying “ its not your business” to tohru in kyoto trip, (8) kakeru saying “ kyo’s her boyfriend? “ AA~~~~ the whole cast know & can see his love to her!!! TOHRU! He doesnt hate you! KYO!! the entire cast thinks you DESERVE HER & is KIND! not a monster! Is there an image set of those moments of the cast saying that here in tumblr? kindly mention me to see it! I fear going to the tags & seeing spoilers T_T.

[naussensei]

Attack on Titan College AU

In which Bertolt and Reiner drag Annie into a party.

Once at the bus stop, Annie flinched at the address on her phone when she received Bertoldt’s text. She had never even gone close to that area. 

Bertold and Reiner would have to make up for this, she’d make sure of that.

For a fancy street, the house indicated in Bertolt’s message wasn’t as big as Annie had imagined. The streets were clean and clear of holes, well-illuminated, but the house wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. Even so, Annie hesitated another moment before she knocked on the entrance door. She listened to the beating of some rap music slamming the windows, the loud chanting of a group of men, and a chill ran down her spine. What the hell were her friends doing in a place like that?

With a deep breath, Annie knocked, and the door was wide open in a second; a tall man with narrow eyes and a smug smile standing at the threshold with a drink in his hand.

“Hey,” he sneered, scanning Annie from head to feet with a smirk.

“Hi,” Annie’s voice was dry, her shoulders stiff. “I’m looking for a friend.”

“Well, you’ve found one,” he grinned, leaning with a hand over the threshold. “Wanna come in?”

“Hey, horse face!”

Another voice came from behind him; a shorter, angry-looking guy pushed the tall one aside, deep green eyes glaring at him. “Stop letting random people into my house, Jean!”

“Relax, Jaeger, she’s not a ‘random person’. I know Annie, she was in my political science class with Professor Smith.”

Annie couldn’t recall Jeans’s face, yet nodded regardless.

“Just come in,” the one called Jaeger said with a sigh, and Annie followed him. “I’m Eren, by the way. There’s drinks at the bar, make yourself at home.”

“I’m only here to pick up a friend,” she clarified, and dodged a group of people chugging their drinks in a scandalous way.

“Really?” Eren said casually, his mind was somewhere else. Even from a distance Annie could smell the alcohol on him. “Which friend?”

“Reiner Braun.” She looked around searching for her friends, feeling several eyes on her as they walked across the large room, suddenly aware of how her gym clothes were so out of place with the rest of the girl’s outfits.

Eren paid little attention to Annie, too busy keeping watch on his parents’ house.

“Hey! Sasha! Connie! Get off the table!” Eren yelled, alarmed at the sight of two people climbing onto the furniture. He excused himself and rushed towards her.

Annie was then left in the middle of the room, alone with nothing but an awkward feeling. Reiner and Bertold would pay for this, she told herself, looking for an empty corner to stand at and look for them. What did people even do in these parties? She watched more people drinking, some of them dancing. After rejecting drinks several times, Annie headed to the bathroom. If Reiner was drunk and wasn’t anywhere around, it could only mean one thing: he’d probably been sick.

The bathroom door opened, and Annie’s eyes widened at the sight of a short, blonde girl kissing another taller girl. She stood there frozen with a hand still on the doorknob; the girls recoiled as soon as they saw Annie staring at them.

“What?” Growled the taller one, darker skin flushing under her freckles. “You got a problem?”

“Ymir don’t-” The other girl gasped, holding her arm to stop her.

“I honestly couldn’t care less. You do your thing,” Annie said with a straight face now, and closed the door again. Where the hell were Reiner and Bertolt?

After searching most of the house, Annie decided they must have gone out to buy more drinks or something like that. She decided to wait for a few more minutes, and looked for a quiet place to sit. At the end of the living room, a lonely girl sat quietly on a couch with a plastic cup in her hand.

That was it. That was her spot.

“Hi,” Annie gave the girl a brief and polite smile as she took a seat.

The girl’s gaze was lost somewhere. As though she didn’t hear Annie, the girl rose to her feet and moved towards the table. From there, Annie admired her black dress and high boots, as black as her hair and nail polish. A second later, the girl came back with another plastic cup and offered it to Annie.

“Oh, I don’t drink, but thanks.”

“It’s apple juice,” the girl said. Unlike her tough appearance, the girl’s voice was surprisingly sweet. “I don’t drink either.”

Annie thanked her and took a shy sip from it with relief. It was indeed apple juice.

They both continued to drink in silence, awkward at first, then almost comforting. At least they were alone together.

“I’m looking for a friend,” finally said Annie. “Do you know someone called Reiner or Bertolt?”

The girl looked up at the ceiling as if trying to reach for something in the back of her mind. “Oh,” she gasped, and pulled out her phone to show her something.

Annie stared at the painting on the girl’s screen with a puzzled look.

“Bertolt painted it,” the girl explained.

“He did?” Annie’s eyebrows raised in disbelief, and tilted her head to take a closer look. He was actually talented, she hated to admit.

The girl nodded, and scrolled down the screen to show Annie another painting; a completely different style but equally stunning.

“Did you paint this one?” Annie asked, and the girl nodded again; a slight reddish gleam burning on her cheeks.

“It’s nice.” Annie said, and she meant it.

The girl put the phone away, and offered her hand.

“I’m Mikasa,” she smiled, “Bertolt and Reiner are my classmates.”

“Nice to meet you,” Annie shook her hand. For once, she was genuinely glad to meet someone new.

“Have you seen them? Do you know where they are?”

Mikasa pointed to the other end of the room, and Annie followed her finger with her eyes across the sea of people to find Bertolt and Reiner drinking from a keg of beer. Her jaw dropped.

“Come,” Mikasa grabbed Annie by the wrist and dragged her across the room through the crowd.

Annie didn’t protest, but her face became more and more red with every step she took, until she was stomping her way towards her friends.

Reiner was the first one to see her, and his face quickly shifted into one of concern. Bertolt only turned to her when he felt Reiner’s elbow digging into his arm; his face serious now as well.

“I thought you were drunk.” Annie hissed, arms folding, eyebrows raising.

“We are,” Bertoldt rushed to say.

“And yet you keep drinking.” She accused. “So you called me for what?”

She turned to Reiner now, her piercing glare had him shuddering. Reiner had always been the easier one to break.

Reiner gulped, a drop of sweat running down his face. He searched for Bertolt with anxious eyes as though pleading for help.

“He made me do it,” Reiner finally burst out. “He made me lie so you would come to the party.”

“Reiner, seriously?” Bertolt gasped, throwing his hands up in the air with frustration. “You didn’t even try, can’t you keep a secret for once?”

Reiner shrugged and Annie cursed under her breath.

“Whatever, we’re already here,” Reiner said, “Since you are here, too, let’s have fun.”

Annie sighed. As angry as she was, she had to admit this was better than staring at her ceiling at home.

“If I stay, will you promise I won’t have to drag you home all drunk?”

“Promise,” they said in unison, and raised their cups to cheer.

“You can’t cheer with an empty hand,” Jean barged in between the two, handing Annie a cup. She rejected it with an awkward smile, and Jean shrugged before he chugged the cup himself.

“She’s not interested,” Eren said in a condescending tone, patting Jean on the back, harder than he’d meant. Too unstable to keep his balance, Jean nearly fell forward, and a second later they were both exchanging senseless insults and aimless fists until they both landed on the floor.

“Eren, stop bothering him, you’ll get your ass kicked again,” Mikasa ran to restrain him. Another guy pulled Jean to keep him away from Eren.

“Marco, let go!” Grunted Jean, even though the only reason he was standing was Marco holding his arm.

The meaningless argument carried on for another moment, and as everyone’s attention was drawn to them now, Annie used that opportunity to slip away for a moment. Hell, she needed a moment of peace. Through the corner of her eye, she sighted a door that led to the backyard, and with smooth steps she sneaked out.

As soon as she stepped outside, a nice breeze blew against her face; the fresh air filling her lungs, and she sighed in relief. She moved towards the railing of the deck, and leaned against it, looking up at the sky; a perfect clear night above her. What was wrong with her? She wondered. Everyone had been so nice, yet there she was, alone in the backyard with a lingering feeling of unease in her chest. Or so she thought.

“It’s nice, isn't it?” A stranger’s voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and Annie turned to find a young man sitting on the floor. Wide blue eyes fixed on the sky and a warm smile.

Annie followed his gaze to search for what he was looking at.

“Funny how they seem like they twinkle, when it’s actually just the Earth’s atmosphere that makes that illusion.”

Annie said nothing, but her eyes widened as she stared at the brightest, shiniest star she could find. “Even that one?” she pointed, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

“You mean Sirius,” he chuckled in amusement, “even that is an illusion.”

Annie now turned to him, watching him get on his feet to move closer to her, carrying a cup with him, eyes still on the stars.

“That other one is Regulus,” he pointed at another star and his smile widened as he stared at Annie with eager eyes, as though waiting for a reaction.

“...cool.”

What else was she supposed to say?

He let out an awkward smile, and his pale cheeks turned suddenly bright red. “Not a Harry Potter fan, I guess.”

What a nerd, she thought.

“Not particularly,” she said instead.

They stared at the sky for another moment, until Annie felt the need to fill that unbearable silence.

“Why are you out here?” she asked without turning to him. “Too crowded inside?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

Annie could now feel his eyes on her, and the slightest feeling of unease gathered in her chest. She couldn’t help but to subtly turn to him, only to look away again the next moment.

“Do you smoke?” he offered her a pack of cigarettes, and Annie shook her head in reply.

“Yeah, neither do I,” he sighed, putting them away. “These are Eren’s, really. Mikasa asked me to hide them from him.”

“Mikasa’s a talented artist.” Surely if he knew Mikasa he couldn’t be such an ass, could he? Annie turned to him again. He was close. Closer than a moment ago, and still staring at her, bright blue eyes reflecting the silver gleam of the stars. She ignored the feeling in her guts and refused to look away.

This seemed to amuse him. He lowered his gaze now with a shy smile, and took a long sip from his drink with a deep grunt.

“God, this is so bad. How can people drink this?” He squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips, making Annie laugh.

“It can’t be that bad…” She sneered.

“You see for yourself,” he handed her the cup, eyes still shut hard in disgust.

Annie stared at the plastic cup with curiosity for a long moment.

Was she actually considering his offer?

He quickly looked around, as if expecting to find someone, yet nobody else was around.

“Fuck it,” she sighed, taking the cup and giving in a small sip without thinking about it any further. As soon as the bitter liquid slid down her throat with a slight burn, she regretted her decision.

“So bad…” She winced.

It was now his turn to laugh. A sound so sweet and soothing to her ears, that Annie almost wondered if there had been something in her drink that made her heart skip and her stomach twist. A rush of blood crawled up to colour her cheeks, and Annie now shook in silent laughter.

The stranger now turned to her, and as their eyes met, a sudden spark flashed between them, holding them both in thrall.

Annie’s body loosened, and as the overwhelming warmth faded, she could finally realize what that feeling gathering in her chest was. Fear. She shuddered in fear. Something she hadn’t expecience in a long time. But it was a strange kind of fear, the kind that made her heart flutter and her stomach drop. She moved even closer, as though drawn by some magnetic force, until she could feel his breath on her.

“There you are!”

A sudden voice came through the door and they both recoiled instantly; a drunk Eren struggling to walk straight outside “Have you seen my cigarettes?”

“No, Eren, I have not seen your-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eren lay flat against the floor.

“Shit, sorry,” the stranger excused himself, moving towards his friend. “Gotta go, but it was really nice talking to you.”

Annie watched him pick Eren up from the floor and disappear behind the door. It wasn’t until she saw Reiner and Bertolt come looking for her that she realized she hadn’t caught the stranger’s name.

-

From: When the Stars Blink Twice

Read full chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32434150/chapters/80968576#workskin

[asagimeta]

The time has come again to remind everyone that good queer representation does not necessarily equal morally good queer characters

I’ve heard that apparently there’s a renaissance of anti-Hannibal going on lately? And that + the rise in popularity of media like Helluva Boss and Killing Eve, and the addition of more openly queer charectors in existing media- from comic book based media to long-running shows like American Horror Story- I feel like this needs to be said again- not necessarily by me but I posted about it way back when Hannibal originally aired it’s finale so I figure, what the hell

Good representation =/= morally good characters

You can have both, absolutely, but you can also have them separate, and you can have all combinations of the reverse too

Ofcourse, to be clear right in the beginning, what counts as “good” representation vs “bad” reputation is going to vary from person to person, everything from life experiences to media exposure to personal opinions will dictate where you land on the sliding scale of “good” or “bad”, someone who’s consumed quite alot of queer-focused media, for example, is going to have a very different opinion than someone who’s only seen one background gay in a TV show that one time, and someone who’s a really huge fan of horror is going to have a much different opinion than someone who’s only a fan of lighter-hearted fair

With that said, in my personal opinion, the measure of good vs bad representation relies less on the character and more on the presentation of said character- less, not entirely

To get what I mean, here’s the best example I can think of:

Castiel from Supernatural is, objectively, a good charactor- if nothing else he’s morally good by most standards, certainly by the time season 15 rolls around, but his canonically queer presentation is just.... horrible, horrible representation and I’ve only met literally one person myself who disagreed with that

Cas is presented as being a really tragic figure right from the start of his coming out- the one thing in the world that would make him truly happy for even a single moment is confessing that he’s in love with Dean, even if Dean rejects him, just saying it is enough, that is..... sad

If it had been framed differently, it actually could have been very good representation, in a “I don’t need you to validate me, I’m being honest about who I am for the first time in my life and that’s enough, I’m enough” way, but it wasn’t, it was framed as pining, as “Even if you don’t love me, my acknowledging openly that I love you is enough to make me happy”, and again that could have worked if framed differently but.... it’s followed up by the infamous “Gay angels go to Super Mega Turbo Hell” thing and like.... no....

Cas is a good character who is queer, he is not a good queer character, because his existence as a queer character lasted less than five minutes and was immediately followed by literally going to what’s worse than hell for expressing his queerness

There is no way I can express the amount of levels of Bad that is, to say nothing of how Dean treats the entire experience for like.... ever... from there on out

But now let’s look at Hannibal, who is objectively a pretty bad character morally- he’s stupendously written but yeah I mean look the dude eats people there’s just no getting around that

But I would argue that he’s excellent queer representation because of how he was presented

Hannibal’s sexuality is never defined, for starters, there’s never a “very special episode” moment where he has some long-winded coming out speech, in fact we don’t quite know how he identifies but because he’s written so artfully we don’t really need to, his exact sexuality doesn’t feel like it needs to be known because, frankly, not much personal information is known about Hannibal anyway, and sexuality feels like one of those arbitrary things that he wouldn’t really care about defining

And that’s the other thing- he’s far from sexless and yet he places no emphasis on sex, he isn’t hypersexualized but he also isn’t being kept as a Ken doll to preserve the message of gay purity (because I don’t know apparently there’s a Thing some people have about how gay people aren’t allowed to be sexual???) he’s just... a person

And that’s really what it comes down to that makes him great, he’s a person first and queer second... or third.... or fourth or fifth.... it never defines who he is, it’s just part of who he is, and regardless of your opinion on Hannibal specifically, I think that is something most queer people strive for in representation

It’s great to have stories that are focused on queerness but it’s equally exhausting to only be able to have characters who’s lives revolve around their sexualities, it’s nice to go into media and go “Oh that character that I already like for these reasons is also queer, that’s so cool!”

Hannibal also skillfully side-steps stereotypes, despite falling into the category of being “polite, thin, and neat”, despite loving fine wine and fine art and fine culture, he never feels like a flamboyant theater kid with a decoration-diploma, wich is how alot of queer characters in this category can feel

His story is about alot of things and his relationship with Will is at the center of much of it, but that relationship didn’t become explicitly queer until the show was almost over- not because it was sudden or poorly written but because it was a slow build up, wich is also refreshing, as alot of times it feels like queer characters are made as explicitly queer as they’re allowed to be as quickly as they’re able to be on screen so that the show can grab those important Representation Brownie Points from episode one and either introduce a Manwhore or a Uhaul Lesbian right away and just kind of leave them in that trope until “someone comes along and changes that” or whatever, I don’t even know what straight writers do half the time, but Hannibal- as a show and a charactor- doesn’t do that, he’s just allowed to exist and tell his story, and THAT is good representation

With the heavy-handed example over with though, I want to tackle the biggest part of this entire “debate” that makes me interested in it:

Queer people are allowed to be bad people

Queer people are allowed to be lazy and unattractive and non-political and angry and jealous and yes, “bad” and evil too

Wile I DEFINITELY prefer to have morally good characters- especially after literally a century of rarely getting more than The Evil Homosexual stereotype and all it’s kin- I also don’t like the direction some people are taking this where queer people are only “allowed” to be 100% morally flawless and good and righteous at all times because it’s just so unrealistic, and because it does the exact same thing that the opposite stereotype does: Puts queer people in a box, makes us a decoration for the straight cast so that the creators get Representation Brownie Points and can’t get yelled at on Twitter, and treats us like we’re some other species (and not in the cool way like werewolves but more like... well, decorations, as I’ve said before)

And if you’re worried about the way straight-cis people perceive us due to seeing evil queer characters, you should be equally worried about how they perceive us seeing nothing but morally flawless ones

I could get into An Entire Thing about the history of Straights trying to turn queer people into what they want us to be and present an inaccurate depiction of us to their brethren for their own benefit but I’ll make it relatively simple

The old way of keeping The Queers away from their Innocent Straight Children was to turn us into villains so that we would be ashamed of who we really are and hide ourselves and pretend to be The Good Christian Folk nextdoor and not get overly political or loud or different

The new way of keeping The Queers away from their Innocent Straight Children is to turn us into sexless Ken & Barbie stereotypes so we can be ashamed of who we really are and pretend to be The Good Christian Folk nextdoor and not get overly political or loud or different

By sterilizing queerness into something they find more “acceptable”, they’re doing the same thing they used to, but now through a lens of “Aren’t you happy you get what you want? You can get married now! You can hold hands in public! Just make sure not to do any of that other crazy stuff you people get up to and you can stay at the Civil Rights Table :)”, we’re still not “allowed” to be sexual human beings, it’s just framed in a way that makes us feel like the people shunning us are on our side wile those same people are still in the corner going “Just don’t kiss in public ok?”

And I could go On about this for some time but let’s get back to the point-

Queer people are three-dimensional people and we should be allowed to be so, we should be allowed to have characterization outside of The Gay Love Interest and The Gay BFF and The Gay Butler and so on, outside of the stereotypes being imposed on us

That’s one of the main reasons I love Yuri On Ice so much, and love Batwoman so much.... and one of the main reasons I love Hannibal and Harley Quinn and Helluva Boss and Killing Eve so much, all of these things star queer characters and queer relationships to different degrees (Batwoman, for example, makes a MUCH larger point and political stance about queerness than, say, Hannibal) and they’re all about something other than queerness too, the charecters are three-dimensional and they’re not built around their sexualities or side peices for straight people

And none of them are PUNISHED for their sexualities either

Going back to Castiel earlier, stereotypes are hardly the worst of our worries when Burry Your Gays, Gayngst Induced Suicide, and Gay Guy Dies First are still alive and well- among others

From Frank N’ Furter in Rocky Horror Picture Show to Tara in Buffy The Vampire Slayer to, oh look, it’s Supernatural again with not just Cas, but also Charlie, and even arguably Dean (but that’s a much longer story for a much different time) and many many more... sometimes just having any gay charecter live through a franchise is enough on it’s own- setting the bar awfully low there but it’s still hard for a shamefully large amount of franchises to step over

In some cases like Tara, it can be pretty decently argued that the death has little- if anything- to do with queerness, but in examples like Cas and Frank, it’s pretty blatantly obvious, especially when the other queer characters in their respective franchises didn’t exactly fair well either....

Matt Baume put it best when he said that until recently, you had to choose if you wanted your only source of representation to be dead or evil, and most people chose evil

Now-a-days that’s clearly not the case as much but there’s still a heavy enough flavor of it there- and villains are just part of gay culture, dating all the way back to prohibition, queer people identified as outlaws because we literally were, so pirates and cowboys and other anti-heros and villains became a staple of the culture that’s still very much alive to this day, thus leading to another point: Identification

Straight people can identify with pretty much whoever they want- from superheros to princesses to any and every kind of villain

Tony Soprano is a horrible, horrible person but is notorious for being beloved among straight white males because he’s a projection of who they want to be- powerfull (and wealthy)

Stolas from Helluva Boss actually presents a pretty similar power fantasy, he’s part of a family who lives outside the larger part of the law, he can kill (nearly) anyone he pleases, he’s physically and socially powerfull, he’s wealthy, he has a nuclear family, he gets to screw around with whoever he wants with the only one taking issue being his wife, the only real difference is that Stolas is queer (and much more fashionable... and pleasant)

Queer people should be allowed to have those power fantasies as much as straight people are

Speaking as a bisexual female myself, I absolutely ADORE Villanelle from Killing Eve, I really don’t care that she’s a bitch or has killed an uncountable amount of people, it’s fun to project on her, and seeing a very flawed woman fall in love and be vulnerable and open herself up to a relationship and get that relationship with another woman is AMAZING to me, that doesn’t make the relationship it’s self healthy or good, but it’s still fun to watch and plays further into that identification

I love Korra and Asami from Legend Of Korra, they’re a sweet, wholesome relationship between two sweet, wholesome characters and I adore them... but I’m allowed to adore Eve and Villanelle too, even if the relationship is toxic and the characters have baggage and Villanelle is literally a serial killer

Ofcourse enjoying something doesn’t make it “good”, I enjoy alot of trash B rated (and C rated) horror movies too, it doesn’t mean I think they deserve Oscars (if that’s really the measuring stick we’re going to use), but I think when it comes to representation, it’s important to distinguish the difference between good queer character and a moral queer character, they just... aren’t the same

Light Yagami from Death Note, Bill from Kill Bill, and Joker from Batman are all just... horrible, horrible people, there’s no doubting that, they are morally terrible... but my god are they fantastic charecters- they’re interesting, they’re three dimensional (even if only occasionally in the Joker’s case), they’re well written and complex, there’s a reason why they’re iconic and why they’re still talked about decades after their introduction into the world, they are GREAT characters who are morally bad, and characters like Hannibal and Villlanelle are in that boat too, they just so happen to be queer- and there’s what it all boils down to

People being queer, not queer people

Some of the most beloved examples above like Yuri On Ice and Legend Of Korra are praised for being about people who are queer, people who have stories focused on other things and are just allowed to exist without their sexualities defining them, and the same should be said and appreciated for villains who are queer too

In an age where so much queer-focused media is about tragedy (the period lesbian dramas and Gayngst teen media for example), and so much of it is focused on the same exact aspects of queer life (coming out, dating around, getting or being married, but mostly coming out), it’s great to have characters who just so happen to be queer without those things being the center of their storylines- and without them being canon fodder or the Gay BFF, or being a terrible stereotype from the 90s that just won’t die...

And that by no means is to say you have to like these characters- not at all, there are PLENTY of objectively good/well-written queer characters who I don’t like for whatever reason- but to call them bad representation just because they’re bad people is sweeping ALOT under the rug

And I know I’ve harped alot on avoiding queer-centered storylines like coming out stories and relationship dramas, but those are fine, they have their place just like everything else, really, they just don’t need to have the only place- that does a disservice to so many other types of queer stories- for the heroes and the villains, because morality and goodness have nothing to do with one’s sexuality, just like one’s sexuality has nothing to do with morality and goodness

[aliaslua]

Living with the Turtles (headcanons)

Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo x Reader

Summary:  A secret mission that only the four brothers could accomplish requires them to become your personal bodyguards. How would each one of them react to sharing a house with you?

Category: Platonic relationship, domestic fluff, deep friendship.

WARNINGS: None c:

A/N: This actually could be a whole fic (maybe someday) but honestly I was just feeling very into domestic turtles today so I decided to post this. Let me know what you think!

You can also read it in AO3! <3

Leonardo

The order was clear, you needed to be hidden. To fade, become invisible. After a team of outlaw scientists from the old Sacks' company discovered that you DNA carried a sequence of molecules that was thought had disappeared from the human species many decades ago - the only sequence that could serve as a basis for creating new mutagens - your blood became the most precious material in the planet and you, the most wanted person in the world. The Federal Program for Assistance to Threatened Victims and Witnesses had no option but to hide you in the only place where you would be safe 24 hours a day, seven days a week: the old train station where New York's newest heroes lived.

How will each of them react to the brutal change of sharing their house with a stranger?

When Chief of police Vincent set up an urgent meeting with the Hamato brothers to make a request and warned that the fate of the world depended on it, Leo prepared to receive a mission that would involved discipline, discretion and unmatched fighting skills but when he realized they would have to spend the next few months being bodyguard to a human, his confidence immediately morphed into pure nervousness.

He is a true gentleman and is desperate to be the best host possible. Before you arrived, he ordered the whole family to clean the Lair with a military streak and himself inspected every room. He and Donatello built a private room  for you using some of the shoji screens from the meditation room and he provided a bed and headboard.

He's absolutely nervous the day you arrive. You are their first official guest and he will do everything to make your stay perfect. Because of that, your first interactions with him is a little awkward. He doesn't allow you to collaborate in any domestic activity and spends the first two weeks asking if you need anything ("No," You always answer "I am very comfortable, thank you.").

After a few days getting to know you better and seeing your determination to participate in the routine of the house, he finally manages to relax a little and takes this opportunity to share some house tasks with you. Despite that, he continues to treat you like royalty: pulling chairs, opening doors, covering you with a blanket at night and carrying you to your bed whenever you sleep on the couch -and then he ensures that the house is quiet, so you can rest. Nothing will interrupt your sleep, your peace, your security, your stay will be perfect, he will do anything to make you feel at home.

Living with Leonardo is a bit like being a soldier in a barracks, but without all the shouting. From Monday to Monday you have a schedule and after you finally manage to convince him to teach you a little self-defense, the training is hard and disciplined. Unlike the barracks, however, Leonardo is very comprehensive with your physical and mental limitations and it's more than willing to adapt your training depending on what you need most on the day. Weary? Deep meditation. Muscle pain? Yoga. Feeling unmotivated? Cardio.

Then when you finally get to know each other better, after a few weeks living together, Leonardo is like a mentor to you. He always has excellent advice and is always available to listen to you, regardless of how repetitive or superficial your problems are.

Leonardo's cooking skills are truly awful. It was during dinner, in fact, that you really started bonding. The pasta was slimy and bland and the sauce tasted like old ketchup: You had to intervene. Only when he saw how well you cooked - and wow that's a pretty good knife control! - he realized that you not only had a lot to learn, but a lot to teach. You have taken on the responsibility of teaching him how to cook the basics ever since and you will never forget his face when he first tasted missoshiro.

You're both obsessed with Chinese fighting movies. Every wednesday you watch a movie together and no matter how hard you try, you can't convince him that "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" is better than "House of Flying Daggers".

Of all the brothers, he is the one who gets used to your presence faster (even before Mikey) and his generosity is essential to make you feel welcome.

Raphael

It is not even possible to define with words the intensity of the fight that Raphael and Leonardo had when he told them that he had accepted the mission of hiding the human carrier. Once again Leonardo had made a decision without consulting the whole team but more important than that: Raphael was going to have to share the house with someone he didn't know and there was nothing in the world that made him more angry - and nervous - than that.

Deep down, Raph was more anxious than angry. Knowing that he was going to share his only intimate and personal space - his house  - with someone he didn't know made him feel super vulnerable, exposed. In fact, he was scared. He feared the possible looks of dread, disgust, repulsion. He knew that few things in the world could hurt more than a look of hatred and he was not at all comfortable with the reality that he might have to LIVE with someone who found him disgusting.

But when you arrived, the looks didn't come. You looked nervous, but not scared, let alone disgusted. As the days went by, Raphael realized that the only feeling you had before arriving at Lair was gratitude and after he actually understood that in fact he made you feel safe, the warmth in his chest was enough for him to forgive your invasion.

Sometimes you are just as scary to Raphael as he is for most humans. That day when he caught you alone in the kitchen taking the cookie sheet out of the oven, he realized that. You are so… small, so fragile and soft. He feels that if he breathes too hard or too close to you he will dismantle you, like a house of cards. It's also impressive to him how much noise such a small creature can make. God! Are your shoes made of iron? How can biting into toast be that loud? Even your breathing seems loud to him. But it is not your fault, you always answer, it's not like you're a trained ninja.

Raphael is the last one to be comfortable with your presence but when that day finally comes and he admits he likes it when you are around, he also decides that you are one of them now and for you he ride or die. Silently he swears eternal loyalty to you and from that day on, rest assured, you don't need to be afraid of anything anymore.

Because of this, Raph becomes strangely jealousy and possessive. You are now his best friend and he needs to know if everyone around you is good enough, well-intentioned enough and ensuring your joy and well being are now part of the mission. It's a little overwhelming at first but when you adjust the intensity it's wonderful to have someone who takes such good care of you.

His affection is always returned. You love his company and think it's funny how such a big man can be so soft. And soft he is, since what you most have in common is the appreciation for period romances. You love watching all the adaptation films from Jane Austen's books and maybe he cried at the end of Reason and Sensitivity - he will deny it until the end - but your favorite activity for you to do together is when you read to him while he works out. You are like a personal audiobook and he will never stop making fun of you for crying while reading Mr. Wentworth's letters.

Despite the affection, he is really a tease. He doesn't miss a single chance to remind you how small you look to him and nicknames like Tiny Temper and Shortstop are recurring. You always repay it whenever you can but ultimately you know that he doesn't mean bad.

Donatello

Donatello thinks that the idea of protecting the source of the conflict is brilliant, it seems much more rational to avoid a war before it happens and proceed a mission with a more discreet and strategic course of action than to appeal to physical strength and weapons. That said, he hates having someone else around as much as Raphael. Unlike him, however, Donatello is not afraid of rejection, he is... Uncomfortable. Privacy is a right that he considers essential and imagining that he may receive someone who is intrusive in his own home makes his head hurt.

Therefore, he receives you with extreme coldness. He helps with the organizing of their home and your personal space, of course, he doesn't want you to feel unwelcome, but it's essential for him to draw the line between mission and personal life and he wants to make that very clear. His room is off limits, the computer area is off limits and specially the laboratory is off limits.

But he soon realizes that his coldness is unnecessary and maybe even a little rude since you seem excellent at respecting personal limits and spaces. He was prepared to spend a long time refusing to answer invasive and indiscreet questions, but you seemed to have a genuine and respectful interest. In the end, he found your polite curiosity very charming.

After that, he showed you the lab on his own and was even happier when you got interested but didn't touch anything. He finally had someone around  with the same enthusiasm for science as he and he even started doing research based on your doubts. Enjoy, he's a great teacher.

But what you most like to do together is to sit on the huge couch in the living room with a cup of coffee and talk for hours on complex matters. Ethics, morals, economic and social configurations, what is the fate of the world? Why are we here? You certainly do not have the same theoretical background to refute him, but he loves your interest and loves to hear your subjective takes. A debate partner is everything he always dreamed of.

It's also a relief for him to be able to open up to someone other than his own brothers and he likes to hear the solutions you would give to his dilemmas from the perspective of a person who has lived a life so different from his. He also loves to watch you, but he will never admit it: Humans are fascinating, and he finds your ways and habits very funny.

Before you arrived he did a thorough research to understand what vitamins, minerals and supplements you would need to take while out of sunlight and with restricted access to various foods, so you also got you a personal doctor and nutritionist.

Michelangelo

The first week living with Michelangelo were almost unbearable. It may be fair to say that he was the only one among the brothers really pleased with your arrival and it was good to be warmly welcomed by at least one of them, but Mikey's excitement was a little overwhelming. He spent all day filling you with praise, flirting, asking about your life and life on the surface and it felt like he talked so much that he sucked all the air out of the room.

Knowing that your relationship could nor go on like that, in the second week of your stay you sat him on the couch and asked him to chill out just a little. You explained that for you it was super important to know that one of them was happy with your arrival and that you knew that he wanted to do everything to make your stay the best possible but for that he didn't need to treat you like a creature from another world, perfect and sovereign, you just wanted to be treated like ... an equal. That was more than enough. Michelangelo ceased to be a dedicated servant and became a great friend.

You couldn't ask for anything else in the world. Mikey was the perfect friend for a situation that could be unbearable without an icebreaker. He's fun, lovable and after you had that conversation, extremely relaxed and comfortable around you. His loyalty is unquestionable and every day he shows affection without hesitation.

He loves spending all the time he can with you and has volunteered to become your personal teacher of the art of graffiti. Leonardo can't know, but you are responsible for the new tags on the subway cars and on the doors of abandoned houses. Mikey loves to watch you do your hair and help you choose the clothes you are going to wear that day and you find it funny how that dynamic makes it look like he is playing house for the first time.

You made homemade pizza once and he asked you to marry him, a request to which you answered yes, of course. He made you a ring from the pizza crust and you drank soda with your arms crossed just like in weddings.

The most sensitive of the brothers. He always know when you're not feeling good and always has the right answer to make you feel better (that is, burrito blanket and reality shows).

[robininthelabyrinth]

Pastime (with good company) (ao3) (aka NMJ/WWX/LWJ) -  part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, past 5, part 6, part 7 

-

Wei Wuxian still wasn’t sure how Lan Wangji had convinced him to come to Qinghe in the middle of the night, even flying through the middle of a thunderstorm to get there.

Possibly he’d still been thinking with his lower half at the time that he’d agreed – he’d been so close to the edge, skating on it, holding himself back intentionally so that the eventual peak would be even better, and to have it snatched away at the last moment had been brutal.

Or maybe it had been the panic in Lan Wangji’s eyes. The worry, the fear.

The realization that someone knew.

He hadn’t been all that concerned with pleasure after that.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he’d begged, desperate. “Please, Lan Zhan – not anyone! No one can know!”

Lan Wangji had wavered, seeing how much it mattered to him and wanting to honor his wishes, wanting to help him - Lan Wangji always wanted to help him - but also needing to share the unexpected burden. In the end he had insisted: “One person. Wei Ying, a marriage cannot be founded on a lie.”

Nothing else in the world would have worked to convince him, given the risks of disclosure, the risk that if more people knew that the secret would get out, that Jiang Cheng would find out, but that – 

That did. 

Lan Wangji was right: it was one thing to enter a marriage for convenience, for political gain; if that was all there was to it, then Wei Wuxian wouldn’t have needed to say anything. He could have hidden it forever, refused to dual cultivate beyond acting as a passive vessel; he could have presented himself in the marriage not as Wei Wuxian but as the Yiling Patriach, with all the benefits and disadvantages that came with it, and that would be that.

But it wasn’t just that.

Maybe it started out that way, but it wasn’t that way now. Not with the way Nie Mingjue had smiled at him, the way he’d looked at him, intense and serious, after that spar – the discussion they’d had afterwards, when he’d raised his proposal again, serious this time, that they would all marry, the three of them. When he had made clear that his offer could be rejected at will without insult, that he meant it as something that was not for politics, not for need, just…to be married. To be together, the three of them, all three of them, to exchange bows and vow to live together as husbands for the rest of their lives, simply because they wanted to. 

Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji both - they’d been clear about what they wanted, and they wanted a marriage with Wei Wuxian, and not his reputation.

Lan Wangji was right.

A marriage like that – a marriage like the ones his parents had, when his mother had picked an outstanding servant over all the other more promising or well-respected men she could have had simply because he made her laugh, the type of marriage he’d always dreamed of, the type he’d always wanted for himself – couldn’t be founded on a lie.

And so they were on their way to Qinghe.

The journey was long, even by sword, even for someone with cultivation as high as Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian had not enjoyed flying on a sword since the he’d been thrown into the Burial Mounds, refusing Wen Qing’s occasional well-intentioned offers; he tried to get some enjoyment out of the fact that his arms were wrapped around Lan Wangji’s waist, his front pressed up against Lan Wangji’s back (he wondered if Lan Wangji would let him rut up against him like this, put himself between those white thighs until they were dirty –) but even the most sexually charged fantasies faded away into the cold reality that he was going to need to talk about this.

And that was before it started raining.

The last shichen of the trip was in complete silence, and only the warmth of Lan Wangji’s hand against his, his spiritual energy flowing calmly between them, kept Wei Wuxian from true panic. And then they were in Qinghe, landing in front of the door, and the guards at the gate were letting them in and then – 

Nie Mingjue was there, waiting the entry hall.

Beautiful Nie Mingjue, who was only half-dressed, his hair unbound and with only an outer robe over his underclothing that he’d thrown on but hadn’t bothered to belt before rushing to the doorway, concern clearly written all over his face.

“What happened?” he asked.

“There’s no emergency,” Wei Wuxian said, and when Lan Wangji turned to glare at him, he raised his hands. “There isn’t! It’s been like this for months, Lan Zhan, and nothing will change if we let Mingjue-xiong get some sleep; we really didn’t have to fly here in the middle of the night –”

“To confirm – no attack has broken out, and no one is imminently dying?” Nie Mingjue interrupted.

Even Lan Wangji was forced to nod at that.

“In that case, you can come inside and have some tea while you explain,” Nie Mingjue said, waving his hand at one of the deputies that was lingering there. “I don’t mind being awake at this hour, but our sentries saw you coming through the storm and I thought it might be a situation where we would need to raise the army.”

Wei Wuxian’s shoulders hunched up. He should have thought about that, they both should have thought about that: Nie Mingjue was not merely a sect leader but a general, not merely a general but the leader of the Sunshot Campaign, the general that had given orders to generals; of course he would think first of war. “Nothing like that.”

“My apologies,” Lan Wangji said. “Our urgency was only my eagerness.”

“Don’t apologize,” Nie Mingjue said briskly. “Matters can be urgent even without a battle; it’s only a question of scale. Follow me.”

He led them to a small receiving room – it wasn’t the one usually used for guests, which Wei Wuxian had been to before, but something more intimate, warmer: the wooden furniture was sparse in the way it always was in Qinghe, with a restrained sort of charm, but there were intricate metal whorls on the walls that caught the eye and soft tapestries that made the cold stone feel less hostile.

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said as he strode into the room. “There’s tea in the corner; one of you can prepare it. Now tell me what the matter is.”

Wei Wuxian looked at him.

“…perhaps Sect Leader Nie would like to get dressed first?” he suggested, a little desperately. 

It was a stalling method, yes, but also – really. There was a certain amount of stress a man could be under at one time, and trying to actually tell someone about everything that had happened would be bad enough without having to also figure out how not to stare at the part of Nie Mingjue’s white under-robes that had started gaping open at the chest, a glimpse of supple flesh and the barest hint of pink –

Nie Mingjue huffed, though it was unclear whether it was out of annoyance or recognition of the effect he was having. “Very well. Wangji, the tea?”

The second he left, Wei Wuxian turned to Lan Wangji. “I know we’re here for a very serious reason and we’re going to need to talk about things and all that, but you saw that, right?”

Lan Wangji’s ears went red.

“Oh, you saw it all right,” Wei Wuxian said, and grinned. “Did it make you want to bite?”

“Wei Ying.”

“All right, all right, I’ll stop. And yes, I’ll – I’ll explain. To both of you.”

A marriage cannot be built on a lie.

Wei Wuxian wanted this marriage to work. He wanted it to be a partnership, like the one his parents had, not – not what Uncle Jiang and Madame Yu had.

The only way he could get what he wanted was if he told them the truth: that he had lost (given up) his golden core during the war, that he could no longer cultivate the orthodox path of the sword, that demonic cultivation was not only a choice but a mandate.

(They didn’t need to know about Jiang Cheng.)

When Nie Mingjue returned, now fully dressed and his hair pulled back in the simplest possible crown, no braids or anything, Wei Wuxian didn’t hesitate.

Nie Mingjue and Lan Wangji were mercifully silent during his explanation, interrupting only long enough to ask some questions – good ones, thoughtful ones. Some were aimed at understanding more of what he went through in the Burial Mounds, while others gently pointed out flaws in his story, sometimes embarrassing ones; if he were ever to tell this story to others, he would need to cover those up better.

They knew he was hiding something, but they let him hide it.

They trusted him.

(Maybe he would tell them about Jiang Cheng after all. But – not yet.)

When he finished, they were quiet for a long moment.

“Thank you for telling me,” Nie Mingjue finally said, and he meant it, too; he was Nie Mingjue, he didn’t say things lightly. If he was angry, he would have shown it, just as he had when Wei Wuxian had described what Wen Chao had done to him before rushing ahead and making clear that Wen Qing had helped him (a deliberate blurring of the timeline, but there was nothing he could do about it) but now there was no anger anywhere on his face, just thoughtfulness. “It explains – a great deal.”

Lan Wangji nodded in agreement, and Wei Wuxian felt the stickiness of guilt: would Lan Wangji think of all those times he’d begged Wei Wuxian to come with him to Gusu, to stop using demonic cultivation, and think himself a fool? Would he think Wei Wuxian had been laughing at him, knowing it was impossible?

He wouldn’t, of course, but Wei Wuxian felt guilty regardless.

“Not to get stuck on technical matters,” Nie Mingjue continued, “but curiosity compels me to ask. What forging are you using as the channel?”

Whatever Wei Wuxian might have expected Nie Mingjue to say, whether scolding or sympathy or even pity, it wasn’t that. 

He didn’t even understand that.

“What?” he said blankly.

“Is it that seal of yours? Or something else?”

“Forging?” Lan Wangji asked. He looked as confused as Wei Wuxian. “Wei Ying uses his flute to cultivate.”

Nie Mingjue’s frown deepened. “Resentful energy corrodes the protections of the souls if used for too long without a venting channel – without a proper outlet, the corrosion will build up in the meridians and dantian, and will ultimately lead to a backlash…are you saying you aren’t using one at all?”

“Are you saying you know about the effects of resentful energy?” Wei Wuxian asked, eyes lighting up. “I’ve never heard anything about venting, corrosion, or build-up – though it makes sense, actually, given some of the other aspects of resentful energy that I’ve observed or theorized. Gathering resentful energy has an exponential effect, the reason why a bunch of drownings in one place don’t just make more water ghouls, but a Waterborne Abyss, and why a battlefield is easier to raise than a single grave…everyone says demonic cultivation affects the temperament, but there’s never any detail. I haven’t been able to find any books on it.”

“Nor I,” Lan Wangji said. “Even in the forbidden portion of the clan library.”

“There aren’t many books,” Nie Mingjue agreed. “Demonic cultivation is well known to be forbidden, so most of the knowledge is handed down orally.”

Lan Wangji’s back got even straighter, if that was even possible, and Wei Wuxian understood the implication a second later: the Nie sect had always been a bit of an outlier from the other sects, Qinghe with its reputation for oddity, with its strange rituals and bizarre customs, its pride in having descended from butchers, a bloody profession associated with resentment, rather than gentry –

“You use demonic cultivation,” Wei Wuxian breathed.

“Not the way you use it, we don’t,” Nie Mingjue said dryly. “Let us not take away from the magnitude of your achievement in creating an entirely new cultivation path, Wei Wuxian, and one that can be used by those who cannot cultivate in the traditional fashion no less. We do not cultivate the ability to manipulate fierce corpses through their resentful energy, I’d never even heard of such a thing before, but we do utilize resentful energy in a fashion that other sects do not.”

“What do you use it for?” Lan Wangji asked. He looked as fascinated as Wei Wuxian was – really, he wasn’t that hard to read at all, once you had an idea of what to look for. All of his expressions were in the little things, the way his eyes curved or narrowed, the redness of his ears, the corners of his lips.

Nie Mingjue’s fingers flicked, a seemingly casual movement, but only a few seconds later the door slammed open as his saber flew into the room, hovering for a moment before whistling through the air as it made its way to Nie Mingjue’s hand.

Wei Wuxian turned to stare. 

“The personal quarters of the Nie clan aren’t anywhere near this hall,” he said slowly. “You clearly left your saber behind when you came to greet us, which I appreciate as a gesture of trust even though we wouldn’t have taken insult if you did…you summoned it all the way from here, and it came on its own? How could you guide it through all those hallways without using hand seals?”

“For something so straightforward, Baxia does not require guidance,” Nie Mingjue said, and held the saber out lengthwise for them to look at. “You asked what we use resentful energy for: this is the answer.”

“Only the most powerful spiritual weapons have enough awareness to recognize their masters,” Lan Wangji said, leaning forward. His eyes were bright with curiosity, with not a trace of judgment for the unorthodoxy they were discussing, and Wei Wuxian would spare some time to think about how beautiful Lan Wangji was in full scholar mode if he wasn’t equally entranced by Nie Mingjue’s revelations. “Much less find their way through a complicated series of hallways when their master wants them, without even a single hand seal acting as a summon…the Nie sect’s sabers have always been regarded as the finest weapons one can use against resentful beasts.”

“Very good as always, Wangji,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Wangji looked pleased at the recognition. “The founder of our sect was a butcher as well as a cultivator. As you know, occupations that require blood are notoriously considered bad for cultivation, the resentful energy from the work affecting their temperament and potential – take the traditional example of the fate of the executioner, who might arise as a fierce corpse despite lacking any resentments of his own. But my ancestor realized that the resentful energy of the beasts he slaughtered could be channeled not in the wielder of the saber, but the saber itself, and in doing so it would grow more powerful in its own right – power that could then be used to supplement the traditional orthodoxy of the dao of the sword and saber.”

Wei Wuxian’s brain was bubbling full of new ideas that had never even occurred to him before. The approach wasn’t as unorthodox as his own cultivation, nor perhaps would it be as reviled – the resentful energy of yao would be far less pernicious than the type he used, which came from humans, and using it as a whetstone to sharpen a sword’s spirit was far less intrusive than manipulating it directly as if it were spiritual energy – but it was fascinatingly different from everything he’d grown up hearing.

“What’s the cost?” he asked, because that was important. There had to be a cost, something the Nie sect was willing to pay that others weren’t, or else the secret would have gotten out at some point and become widespread.

“The difficulty in managing the process as the saber strengthens,” Nie Mingjue said. “The saber can store resentful energy, but we are the ones to cultivate it; it passes through us, and in time the strain will become too much unless we break through the limits of our cultivation and reach the heavens in a single bound. We trade the latter half of our lives for the power to make a difference in the first.”

“Qi deviation,” Lan Wangji murmured. All the Nie sect leaders had died of it, eventually; the fact of it was well known.

“Every generation tries some new means to mitigate it, some of which work better than others,” Nie Mingjue said with a shrug. “I had meant to make it clear to both of you before the wedding, but chances are high that the two of you will outlive me – though with luck the time is still some distance off.”

Wei Wuxian’s fingers curled together into fists in his lap, and he sees the stiffness in Lan Wangji’s spine that has nothing to do with pride; he didn’t need to share glances with him to know that they were both in violent agreement that something would need to be done about that.

After all, neither of them were interested in becoming widows, and together they could do marvelous things, unthinkable things – especially if Lan Wangji were willing, as Wei Wuxian for the very first time thought he might be, to help him research the more esoteric possibilities, to delve into the mysteries of his demonic cultivation and find out its reaches, the benefits and the costs that could be extracted from it.

If Nie Mingjue thought his husbands would just placidly accept a future without him, he would just have to wait and see what they would do.

“The tendency towards qi imbalances cause by our way of cultivating is aggravated by the hereditary Nie temper, which is said to be aggravated by the cultivation style in turn,” Nie Mingjue said, his voice a little dry; he was clearly well aware of his faults. “That’s one of the reasons I want to leave my sect to Huaisang in the future – he might not be the strongest cultivator, whether due to his naturally weaker talent or just because of how lazy he is, but he’s calm and thoughtful instead of temperamental, capable of great patience, and he cultivated a golden core using our traditional methods without losing those qualities.”

“I mean, I guess I’ve seen him with his saber,” Wei Wuxian said, a little doubtfully. “Not to be rude, but has he ever used it?”

Nie Mingjue rolled his eyes. “Not as much as he should, but yes, he’s even cultivated the spirit within it. Unfortunately, the saber and the master reflect each other, which means his saber turned out to be a lazy plonk that would rather act as a paperweight than actually stab someone.”

Wei Wuxian tried, and failed, to hide his smirk. He wondered if he could somehow use Nie techniques to regain control over Suibian, despite lacking a golden core – how wonderful it would be, if that were possible!

He thought there was a good chance Nie Mingjue would agree to teach him what he needed to know to do it, too.

“I had assumed you were using the Stygian Tiger Seal as a channel in a similar manner to the way I use my saber,” Nie Mingjue continued, frowning again. “That’s clearly not the case, and that means your demonic cultivation is even more radical an innovation than I had previously considered it to be. However, with your consent, I would like to build you a channel for you to try to start processing your cultivation through, in the hopes that it will work to ease the strain of it on you. My clan uses forging, a mixture of metal and qi, to create a base that can be built up into a saber, though I suppose in your case it doesn’t have to be. Tonight, if you’re not too tired.”

Wei Wuxian nodded. He’d known that backlash was a possibility, had already accepted that he’d likely have an early death as a result of it, had arrogantly assumed he’d be able to come up with something to prevent it, but just because he was doing something new didn’t mean he couldn’t try to supplement it with something that had been practiced for generations – especially since given how he’d used demonic cultivation so far, any backlash would probably end up with him ripped to pieces by a thousand fierce ghosts. 

Not really his ideal death.

Especially not before he managed to marry these two!

“I don’t want other people to know, though,” he said, his fingers twisting in his robes at the mere thought. The same anxiety as before: the more people knew his secret, the more chance there was of someone slipping up, of someone finding out – of Jiang Cheng finding out, and his shidi wasn’t stupid, merely too trusting to those he loved; he’d figure it out as soon as the pieces came together. “How many do we need to tell to do it?”

“None,” Nie Mingjue said, and Wei Wuxian started in surprise. “Are you not my intended husband? I can do it myself.”

He paused a moment, and then smiled. “Thank you.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him. “For what?”

“For allowing me the opportunity to finally get Huaisang off my case about picking your betrothal gift.”

Lan Wangji huffed in amusement, as if some guess had been confirmed, and Wei Wuxian thought that maybe there was a chance this whole thing wouldn’t be a disaster after all.

[myherowritings]

Take You Out

Request: Could you do a Bakugou x Reader fic where the reader asks Bakugou out on a date to the park but he misunderstands and thinks they’re challenging him to a fight? So they show up dressed up really nice and put together, but he’s ready to throw down? Thx!!!

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Word Count: 1,928

Author’s Note: This is a repost because the original got deleted, ugh. IDK if I did it on accident or if it was Tumblr, but regardless it’s very disheartening to see all the notes gone and agh I’m just frustrated and sad. :( But it’s okay! I’m grateful I had it saved. Any reblogs would be appreciated! xx

“Tomorrow at five, then?”

“Tch. That’s fine by me.”

His brows were furrowed with a glare and his arms were crossed defensively as he looked at you, but you were so happy that Bakugou didn’t just reject you, you hardly noticed.

“R-Really?” you asked, staring up at him as a bright smile threatened to take over your face. “We can meet at the park by the pond! I have the perfect set up.”

Earlier that day, Ashido had helped you plan out the perfect picnic date with Bakugou. You went out to buy a gingham blanket, a vintage picnic basket, and an assortment of meats and cheeses for the sandwiches.

It was going to be perfect.

“You have a whole set up for this?” Katsuki’s face was the mixture of confusion and anger you had grown to love.

“Of course! I’ve been planning this for a while,” you admitted shyly, toying with the hem of your shirt. “I honestly can’t wait to take you out.”

His eye twitched. “What?”

You peered at him through your lashes. “Huh?”

“What did you just say?”

“I said that I can’t wait to take you out.” You tilted your head slightly to the side as Bakugou furrowed his nose up. Scratching the back of your head, you laughed nervously, “Sorry-- Was that too forward?”

“Take me out?” he repeated, voice growing louder as his expression became more and more incredulous. “Listen here, pipsqueak. I don’t know where you got that idea, but I’m going to be the one taking you out!”

You blinked.

Katsuki glowered.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said slowly. You heard a series of sparks coming from his hands, but you simply giggled. “I’m the one who asked you. And the one who set this whole thing up. Plus, I’ve been planning this for a while now! It’s definitely me who is taking you out, Bakugou.”

“Why, you little--!”

“But it’s okay,” you quickly amended, giving his cheek a small pat as his whole face turned a bright red. “If you really want to so badly, I’ll let you take me out the following time.”

“Let me?”

You nodded.

Gradually, Bakugou’s growl transformed into a challenging smile as he bared his teeth. His eyes were filled with something that looked like a combination of begrudging respect and outright annoyance.

“Tch. You have some nerve, Y/L/N,” he barked with a rough laugh. Katsuki shook his head. “Fine, I’ll humor you. Tomorrow at five, right? Don’t be late.”

You beamed, happy your biggest crush actually agreed to go on a date with you.

“I can’t wait!”

- - - - -

“Is my outfit okay?” you asked Mina, biting your bottom lip in worry as you smoothed out your shirt for the umpteenth time.

“Yes, you look hot, Y/N! Stop being so nervous,” she said, giving you a once over with a quick thumbs up. “It’s still only Bakugou after all.”

You huffed. “Easy for you to say! He might be ‘only Bakugou’ to you. But to me, he’s a long time crush I never thought I’d have an actual chance with.”

There was a little less than an hour before your first date with Katsuki and you couldn’t stop pacing around your room. You ran through your picnic checklist so many times, you were certain you could now recite it by heart.

“I just hope he likes me back,” you said, tugging at the dainty chain of your necklace.

“He’d be foolish not to.” Ashido propped herself up by her arms as she laid on your bed, staring thoughtfully at the wall behind you. “Plus, he did agree to go on this date with you, right? So he must like you at least a little bit.”

You felt yourself relax at her words, but still couldn’t stop yourself from wandering about.

“I guess you’re right,” you sighed. “Thanks, Mina.”

“I am right!” she agreed, jumping up from your bed and handing you the picnic basket. “Now, go leave already! You know how Bakugou always shows up early to everything. You don’t want him there before you.”

You checked the time and swore under your breath. Giving your outfit another glance in the mirror for the last time, you waved a nervous goodbye to Mina and headed out the door.

Dashing over to the nearby park with a picnic basket around your arm, you prayed to the stars above you wouldn’t screw anything up.

By the time you arrived there, it was a half hour before five. If you were lucky, you would have a good ten minutes to set up before Bakugou arrived. You quickly got to work, laying out the gingham blanket and preparing the sparkling cider and appetizers.

As you finished laying out the picnic, you smiled to yourself at the job well done.

Katsuki will love this! you hoped.

On cue, you spotted the angry-looking blond sauntering over to your spot next to the pond.

“Bakugou! Hi,” you called with a wave, smiling brightly despite the bundle of nerves in your stomach.

“Hmph.”

As he drew nearer, you noticed his casual attire. He had on gym shorts and a muscle tee. It was a stark contrast from your flowy, floral outfit, but Katsuki looked good in anything so you didn’t mind.

“Are you ready for this, pipsqueak?” he asked gruffly before giving you a once over. As he took in your dressed up attire, he narrowed his eyes. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

Your cheeks heated in embarrassment. So much for Ashido’s advice. “Is… Is it too much? I knew I should’ve gone with a less flowery outfit, but Mina said this one looked better. B-But maybe I did go a little overboard, especially considering how casual you look… I didn’t realize--”

As you voiced your dilemma, Katsuki’s face grew more and more confused. He looked around at the scenery of the park, then down to the food laid across the red woven blanket.

“The hell are you going off about?” he interrupted, the harshness of his voice not quite matching the uncertainty in his eyes, but still biting nevertheless. “What is all of this?”

You blinked, taken aback by his rudeness. Bakugou wasn’t exactly what you would call a polite person, but you knew he was capable of manners at the very least.

And, yes, perhaps a small part of you thought he would be a little more speechless when he saw you dressed up like this. That maybe he would want to show you a softer, sweeter side of him no one else got to see.

But that didn’t seem to be the case.

Instead, he was cold and angry and looked like he couldn’t believe the sight around him.

You sniffed, throat feeling tight as you folded your arms defiantly and looked him straight in the eye despite the tremble in your lower lip.

“This was supposed to be a nice picnic with your favorite foods, you jerk!”

Katsuki turned to face you sharply, bewilderment evident as he furrowed his brows. “What?”

“If you didn’t want to come, you could’ve just said no, Bakugou,” you said, fighting back hurt tears. “You could’ve saved me from all this effort if you were just going to come and act like you’d rather be anywhere else.”

His eyes widened when he noticed the glassy sheen in yours. “I don’t--”

“I was so excited, you know? And not even because the mentaiko tastes amazing! I just wanted to get to know you a little more.” You dug the point of your shoe into the gravel beneath you. “But instead you show up looking like you’re ready for a fight and--”

You stopped yourself in your tracks, wiping away a stray tear as you eyed the gym bag by his feet.

“And… Why do you look like you’re ready to fight someone?”

He blinked at your stunned silence.

“What do you mean why!? You said you were going to take me out, baka,” Katsuki grumbled, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I’m here to prove I’m the one who will take you out. But now you’re talking about your feelings and a picnic as if this was supposed to be a date or something--”

Realization dawned on his face as he abruptly cut himself off. Bakugou briefly shut his eyes, muttering a quiet swear.

“Fuck.” He shook his head. “Was this-- Is this supposed to be a date?”

A flush of heat crept up your cheeks as your brain registered the hopeless misunderstanding. You cleared your throat, ignoring the complete humiliation you felt.

“What else did you think I meant when I said I want to take you out?” you cried in disbelief. “That I wanted to meet in you in the park at night for a fist fight?”

When you said it aloud, it sounded even more ridiculous. He thought you meant take him out-- With your fists?

You weren’t sure whether you wanted to laugh at the audacity or cry at the embarrassment.

“What the fuck, Bakugou?” you barked, unable to hold in your laughter.

His face turned a bright red as he folded his arms at your chuckles. “How was I supposed to know when you never used the actual fucking word even once!?”

“I was nervous, you jerk!”

You both stared at each other stock-still before you burst out into giggles. Even Bakugou couldn’t stop the smirk on his face as he scoffed.

“Baka.” He rolled his eyes.

After your amusement died down, you turned to face him, fingers toying with the pendant on your necklace.

“Well, now that you know this was supposed to be a date… You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you said nervously. “You probably wouldn’t have said yes if not for the confusion--” You bite your lower lip as you faltered at his intense gaze. “I won’t be offended, or anything! I’ll just pack this up.”

There was a deafening silence as you reached to place the container of fruit back in the woven basket. When you grabbed it, you felt a large hand covering yours to stop you from moving.

You almost jolted at the spark.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Bakugou mumbled, pulling his hand away so quickly that if it weren’t for the lingering heat, you would never have known it was there in the first place. “You prepared all this food. It’d be stupid to let it go to waste.”

Katsuki avoided your gaze as he took a seat on the picnic blanket.

You watched him, speechless.

“Well?” he said gruffly, offering you a bundle of grapes.

Almost cautiously, you took a seat next to him, taking a grape and plopping it into your mouth.

“You… You’re staying? Even if it’s a date?”

He grunted.

A small smile broke out on your face. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Tch. Why are you saying thank you, baka? This is only because I don’t want to waste the food,” he lied through his teeth, cheeks pinkening as he looked away.

“Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything else.”

“Hmph.”

“Maybe after the food, I can show you how even dressed in this, I’ll still be the one to take you out.”

Katsuki glanced up at you in surprise, lips quirking into a challenging grin as his fiery eyes met the intense gaze in yours.

He barked out a laugh before shaking his head. “Fine. But don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because we’re on a date.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

[untamedluna]

Real talk though I wonder how much of Jin Zixuan’s behaviour with Jiang Yanli was impacted by his father. Like there’s no way he didn’t hear about Jin Guangshan’s reputation, no way he didn’t pick up on his actions, no way he didn’t realise what it did to his mother, and the women his father went for as well. Like imagine growing up with that? People wondering if he’d turn out the same way? He may be spoiled and arrogant, but he is a good person underneath all that, he’d despise the idea of being that type of man.

And I feel like being betrothed to Jiang Yanli must’ve been kinda scary? Not only is it against his wishes, which is bad enough already to be fair, it’s to Jiang Yanli? The sweet, mellow girl with fairly weak cultivation? The girl who’s become used to harsh words being spat at her by her mother, the girl who takes care of her younger brothers with kindness, the girl who in his opinion would not last a week in Lanling Jin? Disaster. He doesn’t think for a second that Jiang Yanli has the strength or the cunning to deal with all the backstabbing and power grabs that happen in his home, or even that she would tell him if he made her uncomfortable in any way.

And it’s hard because Jiang Yanli is lovely, an absolute sweetheart. She’d be a great wife, if he didn’t have his father, if he wasn’t so scared of accidentally following his footsteps. He doesn’t want to be married, certainly not against his wishes, and certainly not to Jiang Yanli of all people. Then after the fight at Cloud Recesses the engagement gets dissolved. It’s a relief. And then everything goes to shit, Lotus Pier is attacked, and Jiang Yanli ends up with him. His father may be happy to sit back and let the sunshot campaign happen without much of his input, but he wasn’t. What Wen Ruohan was doing was wrong, and Jin Zixuan decided to join the fight, and to his complete surprise, so did Jiang Yanli. Not with a sword admittedly, but she came to the war camps regardless, worked to feed the soldiers, to heal them, to help in any way that she could. She showed more strength than he expected to find, and maybe she isn’t the sweet but weak girl he thought she was. She works hard, she’s determined, perhaps she isn’t the worst choice for a wife. It wouldn’t be too hard to revive their betrothal.

But then the soup incident happens. He was trying to do the right thing, when Jiang Yanli came to him with the soup that he genuinely assumed someone else had been making, he thought she was taking the credit of someone else and he got genuinely mad. He was starting to rework his opinion of Jiang Yanli, realised that he didn’t actually know her very well and then she pulls this? Except no, as it turns out, she was just shy, it was her giving him the soup the entire time and he’s accidentally made an ass of himself. And managed to make her cry and piss off her brother while doing so. Disaster. Oh well, it’s awful but not a terrible loss, he doesn’t actively want to marry her after all, even if the way she starts to stay clear of him makes him feel bad.

Then finally the war is done, they’re celebrating the victory and what does his father do? Suggest that he and Jiang Yanli get engaged again. Directly tells Jiang Cheng, made sect leader far too soon in awful circumstances, with a still weakened sect, that he’d like to make sure his dead friend’s daughter is looked after. The words are well meaning sure, but the situation? The Jiang sect can’t really afford to say no, that looks bad, but saying yes doesn’t exactly look good either. They’re in an extremely awkward position and his father knows this, is using it to his advantage. And Jin Zixuan hates it. Then Wei Wuxian steps in, tells his father that the marriage should be up to Jiang Yanli. Jin Zixuan privately agrees, he’s sure she’ll say no. How could she not with everything that’s happened, with the way she avoids him? And sure enough she refuses, very politely and with tact, saying she needs to be with her sect right now. It’s the result he wanted. He agrees with her words. So why did it pang when she said the words?

He thinks on it, realises that perhaps he had become more attached than he thought. But he doesn’t know how to feel about it. She’s stronger than he thought yes, but strong enough? Not to mention, the Jiang sect still aren’t in a good position, could she give genuine consent with that pressure behind her? He doesn’t know. He discusses all this with his mother (certainly not his father) admits that maybe he is interested in her, but doesn’t have enough information to make any kind of decision, needs to spend more time with her, but they weren’t on great footing right now. His mother gives him an out, suggests they explicitly invite her to the hunt on phoenix mountain, under her request if he must. And so he does, goes to Lotus Pier himself to deliver his ‘mother’s’ invitation. Jiang Yanli agrees and honestly he’s overwhelmed with how glad he is, accidentally makes his excitement known for a moment. He would be embarrassed, is to an extent, but his exclamation made her look at him, really look at him for the first time. And it sparks something in him.

His mother is the best teammate he could ask for, she’s in his corner, wants him to be happy and will set up situations where he can get to know Jiang Yanli more. Not only that but she will also tell him if he’s being an idiot, will hold him accountable for upsetting Jiang Yanli because she cares about her too. It’s embarrassing as all hell when his mother berates him for messing up, but it doesn’t stop him asking for her help, makes him more confident in it if he’s completely honest with himself.

So the hunt on phoenix mountain begins and his mother manages to get him and Jiang Yanli alone and the first time they’re talking, actually talking. She’s reserved, doesn’t seem 100% happy to be there, but she’s being honest. Telling him her honest thoughts and opinions. She’s not scared of him. Although she may take a moment to think about the best way of saying it, she’s not scared of telling him what she really thinks. She’s not just telling him what he thinks he wants to hear like so many others do. And it’s great. His fears of her being too meek, too intimidated to survive in Lanling Jin may be completely unfounded. Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to be actually interested in him. It makes him bristle, he speaks a little harsher than he perhaps means to, but he wants this clearing up for good at this point. Would she consider marrying him or not? She doesn’t say it out loud but evidently the answer is no. He’s upset, but he would never pressure her, decides to consider the matter done. But then she moves to leave alone in the middle of a hunt and he couldn’t allow that, what if she got hurt? And of course then Wei Wuxian appears out of nowhere and accuses him and pushing her on spending time with him and he’s mad. That’s not what he’s doing.

Thankfully his mother’s ‘Jiang Yanli is upset’ instincts were going off and she shows up, and the fight brewing between him and Wei Wuxian seems to calm down. Wei Wuxian is angry, says that he and Jiang Yanli no longer have any association, and Jin Zixuan doesn’t really react. It’s a shame but clearly she’s not interested, Wei Wuxian’s statement doesn’t mean much, she had pretty much already said that had she not? But then Jin Zixun, who has never liked Wei Wuxian, starts acting up and those two get into an argument. He’s not about to intervene, frankly that’s Not His Business. But then Jiang Yanli gets involved and she’s pissed. Jin Zixun won’t stop running his mouth and Jiang Yanli’s not having it, multiple people are arguing against her and Wei Wuxian and she does not care. She’s loyal to her brother, is angry at the words that have been thrown at him, particularly by Jin Zixun and she verbally and eloquently rips him a new one, stares him down while waiting for him to apologise to her brother. And well. It hits him all at once that actually she would’ve been a perfect wife. Truly unfortunate that she’s not interested in him.

She and his mother talk, his mother desperately trying to smooth things over, while Jiang Yanli refuses, politely asks her to stop trying to force him with her and what??? She thinks he’s being forced? He was going to take her rejection for what it was, but it’s becoming clear she doesn’t have all the information. He swore to himself that he’d settle this today and dammit he’s going to, no matter how scary it is, no matter how embarrassing. He blurts it out to her, tells her that she’s mistaken, his mother isn’t forcing him to do any of this, he’s the one who wanted to invite her, and she’s looking at him, genuinely looking at him but so is everyone else, they have an audience and it’s too much. He’s baring more of himself than he ever has to anyone besides his mother and it’s too much so he runs off. Disaster yet again.

Or apparently not? Because suddenly Jiang Yanli is with his mother, and not with Wei Wuxian like he expected? She’s paying more attention to him, looking at him properly and he realises. It’s funny almost, he’d been pushing her away for years in fear that she’d end up pressured into doing things she didn’t want to do, only for her to be doing the same thing. She’d been pushing him away because she thought he wasn’t interested and was being forced into it. She’s looking at him properly now, looking for signs that he does in fact like her. It’s terrifying and exciting all at once. Suddenly there isn’t much between them, the only thing stopping them being whether she believes he truly has feelings for her. Despite all odds, despite his original feelings, Jiang Yanli could be the perfect wife for him, she’s lovely, understanding and patient, but also strong, well spoken to the point of an advantage, and will not back down if it’s important to her. And he does truly feel for her. So much more today than even just yesterday. He can imagine her in his life, wants her to be in his life. Being completely open and forthright about his feelings for her is scary, possibly the scariest thing he’s ever done, but arguably the most important. So he finally puts his shield made of pride and arrogance down, and fucking goes for it.