#excuse me but how else am i interpreting all that. huh.

[hetamyuist]

they hated her because she spoke the truth (albert james moriarty is psychosexually obsessed with his little brother)

[breakfastteatime]

Cal wakes up from a nap. Oops, fell asleep on the couch again. He's so dozy, so comfy, maybe he'll drift off again and...

Wait.

Something feels different about his head. He stirs, brushing the blanket pulled up to his chin.

"Shhh. Go back to sleep." It's Merrin. She must be sitting next to his head. "I am not finished yet."

Her fingers are in his hair, brushing through and separating small handfuls into trios. The feeling is familiar, a distant memory from so long ago. He feels himself relaxing. "Why're you braiding my hair?" he asks, although it sounds more like "whyybraidnmuhheyh?"

Somehow, Merrin interprets his mushy words. "It is shiny. And pretty."

"S'not."

"Oh, yes, it is." There's a gentle tug as she deftly braids. "Fiery. Like my magicks."

"S'green."

"Hush, Cal. Let me finish."

Cal zones out, drifting into memories of Master Tapal patiently plaiting his braid, tying it off with the finest of thread. It never seemed possible for someone with such huge hands, and yet Master Tapal managed it every time. Sometimes he would tug on it to get Cal's attention. Other times, if he couldn't grab the hood of Cal's robes fast enough, he'd grab Cal's braid instead, and that never failed to bring Cal to a sudden and complete halt - usually before he wandered into traffic in the Brave's landing bay. He smiles at the memories, at the warmth, the tradition, the simplicity.

Merrin probably isn't going in for simplicity. Maybe he'll look like Cere did in that echo he picked up from Trilla's lightsaber. She looked so awesome with her hair like that. Could he grow his hair out that long? His pictures it - autumn reds, oranges and golds trailing all the way down his back, tied in intricate braids...

...who is he kidding? He'd sling it back in a ponytail and be done with it.

He giggles to himself.

"You are strange, Cal," Merrin tells him.

She has no idea.

A few minutes later, Merrin's fingers pull away. "Done. You may wake up. BD? You can come and look now."

Familiar feet tippy-tappy their way over. BD gives a long, slow beep of awe, and then the light of his scanner shines through Cal's eyelids.

Pretty, BD declares.

"I am not pretty," Cal grumbles.

"You are. You are a pretty princess," Merrin says. "BD, quick, make a recording."

"Excuse you, I'm no princess, I am a queen," Cal corrects.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty," Merrin says.

Curiosity wins and he opens his eyes, sits, frees his hands from the blanket, and explores his head. What he finds is a series of small, tight braids encircling his head - much like a crown. He leans forward and catches a glimpse of his reflection on the table. "Huh."

"You like it?" Merrin asks. "Cere explained to me how to do it, but it is easier to practice on somebody else."

"I do like it," Cal says. "It's really practical. Keeps it out of my eyes, too."

The hatch opens. Cere and Greez board the ship, both carrying several grocery bags. Cere clocks Cal first, nodding in approval. Greez does a double-take, puts down his bags, and moves in for a closer inspection.

"Well?" Cal asks, moving his head to really show it off.

"I love it!" Greez gushes. "I mean I really love it. I want it. I want that style right now."

"When you have more hair, I will teach you how," Merrin says.

He grins. "It's a deal. You heard it here, folks, Greezy is officially growing his hair out."

[zzprompto]

☆ under the stars

leon kennedy x ftm reader [he / him]

sypnosis : leon and [name] are staying in a lakeside resort with some colleagues as a reward. the two end up taking a dip in the lake and feelings are shared. (meant to be viewed as romantic)

the lowercase is intentional !

- no outbreak au + non-sexual nudity included.

leon, [name] and a few colleagues at the police station were all invited to a lakeside resort, all thanks to their hard work.

the area was beautiful. the lake, the trees surrounding them, the cabin they'd be staying in too - everything was perfect. the resort was definitely a reward for all that hard work. both [name] and leon were estatic that they got chosen to go.

everyone was off exploring the resort. most of leon and [name]'s colleagues were inside, checking out the rooms they'd be staying in. some were outside, but they ended up going inside after it started going dark.

however, [name] and leon were the last two outside. they were standing around, taking in the scenery with smiles on their faces. it was a truly breathtaking sight the whole resort, you wouldn't be able to find it anywhere in the city. it was beautiful.

"this place really has it all, huh?" leon whispered, looking up at the sky with a smile on his face. there were hundreds, maybe even thousands of stars that were twinkling in the sky as leon looked up. it was almost as if they were painting a picture, sending some kind of message throughout the universe for people to interpret in their own ways.

"yeah," [name] agreed, having a smile of his own on his lips. he also looked up, copying leon. "nothing beats it here, being away from the city once in a while. i mean, you can't top a view like that." [name] says, hinting at the starry night sky.

leon hums in agreement. he stares up at the sky for a few more seconds before looking down at his friend. he smiles at the other man still too, unable to take his eyes off of [name], like how he wasn't able to take his eyes off of the stars.

"do you want to go take a swim in the lake?" leon asked, wanting to see if [name] would agree and actually go with him. this question totally wasn't an excuse for something. definitely not.

[name] looked at leon and he raised an eyebrow. he crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at his friend. "i didn't pack anything suitable for swimming." he said in response.

"neither did i.. but it's fine! it's dark.. and the water will go above our waists. it's not like we'll be looking down there.." leon mumbled, letting out a nervous chuckle as he finished speaking. nothing that came out of his mouth made him sound any better. it all made him sound worse.

[name] was a little skeptical of leon's suggestions, but he decided that there was no harm in trying. it was only them outside anymore. nobody else would see them anyway.

the man sighed and he shook his head at leon's words. "fine. we can go into the lake naked, you perv." [name] added with a small laugh before he started making his way to the lake.

leon was a little caught off-guard by the sudden name calling. he froze a bit before he registered what his friend had actually called him. his whole body started to heat up a little before he called out back to [name]. "hey, i am not a pervert!" he yelled, running after his friend. all leon got in response was a laugh from his friend.

once the two were by the edge of the lake, [name] turned to face leon. he had a teasing smile on his face as he looked at the other man. "don't look at me whilst i'm getting undressed, okay? i know you're going to want to take a peek anyway." he said before he turned around, starting to remove his articles of clothing.

leon's whole body warmed up once more. he didn't think [name] would get straight to it. he thought there would be a little hesitation before the other got undressed, but no! there was no hesitation!

"yeah right.." leon muttered as he turned around, trying not to stare at his friend's back. he started taking off his own clothes, still a little flustered by the whole idea of getting into the lake with [name], naked. [name] was just his friend though, so he shouldn't be feeling this nervous. but, leon was feeling very nervous. it was as if he was back in highschool, handing someone a love letter. but, he wasn't. he was simply going to go swimming with his best friend. there was nothing to be nervous about.

leon then heard a sudden splash of the water, so he turned to look at the lake. it was just [name] who just happened to be fully undressed and already in the water, not worrying like leon was in that moment.

"you're taking too long leon, hurry up! this was your idea in the first place!" [name] called out, swimming further into the lake as he waited for leon.

as soon as [name] said that, leon removed his last items of clothing. he almost stumbled into the water out of sheer excitement, but luckily he didn't. he got in normally, swimming all the way over to [name].

leon swam infront of [name], smiling at his friend. his eyes caught notice of the scars that adorned [name]'s chest. they were prominent, and almost illuminated by the moonlight. leon thought that they were beautiful, that they could even rival the starry night sky that enveloped the two in that very moment.

"you're staring." [name] whispered softly, a small chuckle escaping his lips soon after. leon immediately felt ten times more embarrassed than he had before. just why did he have to get caught staring?

"you know.." [name] mumbled, looking down at his own chest. leon was now interested with what [name] was going to say next. "when i first got these, i used to hate them." he admitted.

leon was surprised, shocked even. he was about to rival [name]'s statement to say something about how they're something that should be cherised, but he decided to stay quiet. this wasn't his story to tell, it was [name]'s.

"i felt.. weird. disgusted even." [name] continued, a small frown forming on his lips as he spoke and remembered the events after he got his top surgery. "i didn't feel like a real man because i believed 'no man has scars like these'. but i realised that wasn't true, so i grew to love them. they make me, me. and i'm a man at the end of the day." [name] hummed, his frown being replaced with a smile.

"yeah.. they're perfect. just like you." leon whispered in response, not realising what he had just slipped out.

[name] looked up, meeting leon's eyes. a small smirk played on his lips as he raised an eyebrow at his friend. "you think i'm perfect? that's.. sweet. i think you're perfect too." he replied.

leon's eyes widened as he heard what [name] had just said. he opened his mouth, a few stutters escaping but no coherent words or sentences. he couldn't believe he had just said that. he looks away from [name], closing his mouth as he smiled to himself nervously and awkwardly.

[name] swam a little closer to leon, their chests almost touching. he then put a finger under leon's chin, making the other man look him directly in the eyes once again.

"why are you getting so embarrassed for?" [name] asked. "there's no need. you spoke your mind, and i spoke mine in return." he smiled at the blonde.

the pair were so close to eachother now. their breaths were mixing, their scents intertwining and their eyes twinkling as they stared at eachother - rivaling the stars that shone in the sky.

before one of them registered it, their lips were already touching. there was no warning to it, only the collision of their lips. it was perfect, just like everything else about the place.

leon pulled back after a few seconds, looking at [name] with a nervous smile. that wasn't what he was expecting to get out of this trip, but he didn't mind it at all. in fact, it was the best thing about the whole trip.

"i didn't know that you-" leon started before he was cut off by [name] pressing their lips together once again. leon shut his eyes tightly and he just let [name] lead the way. he let himself get kissed over, and over, and over again. if it was [name], he wouldn't mind it one bit.

this time, [name] pulled away and he smiled at leon. "yes, i do like you. a lot. i think we've established that now." [name] chuckled, moving his arms to wrap around leon. leon did the same to [name].

"well, i like you a lot too. i'm glad that's out of the way." leon hummed, leaning into [name] once again to get a kiss. however, [name] pulled back playfully, wanting to keep leon on his toes.

"don't get too ahead of yourself." he laughed, still smiling at leon. "i just wanted to know what this makes us, then we can get back to kissing." [name] explained, and leon nodded in response.

leon thought for a moment, holding [name] a little tighter than before. "boyfriends. only if that's what you want though." he grinned, albeit a little nervously.

"i wouldn't of kissed you if that wasn't what i wanted." [name] mumbled before he leaned in to kiss leon once more.

the two kept kissing in the moonlight for quite a while. they held eachother tightly and closely, not wanting to let go of the other. everything about it was just perfect. the two of them couldn't stop thinking about how perfect everything was between them.

after a few more kisses, [name] pulled away. he was breathing a little heavily, but he quickly managed to regain his breathing to it's normal state.

"i'm getting cold now. last one out of the lake doesn't get any kisses." [name] grinned before let go of leon. he then splashed the other man before he swam back to shore to grab all of his clothes.

"wha- hey! that's not fair and it doesn't make any sense?!" leon yelled, wiping the water out of his face. "the other person wouldn't be getting any kisses too, you idiot!" he says before he also starts swimming back to shore. and, yet again, all [name] can do was laugh.

everything was perfect, if it wasn't obvious. the scenery, the confession and the kisses. the two wouldn't of had it any other way under the moonlight.

- author's note: hope you guys enjoyed <3 this is written with re2 leon in mind ! re2 leon my beloved <3

- navigation : masterlist : request

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 11: meet cute

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

A special one, I really enjoyed writing it. Reblog if you liked it!

Spencer walked through the gallery in silence, paying attention to all the paintings and trying to give them his own interpretation. For some strange reason, being in those places relaxed him greatly and right now it was what he needed most: a well-deserved respite after a long day of work.

“Good night,” he greeted a young woman, who was attentively looking at a painting.

The woman he saw couldn't have been more than thirty years old and her clothing was... how to put it? Something eccentric. All the clothes were vibrant tones and she wore a woven bag with uneven parts, who knows if it was on purpose or not.

“Good night,” you murmured just as kindly, keeping your hands in the pockets of your colorful jacket.

The painting in front of you was, in short, something grotesque. But it wasn't in a bad way, it had a certain special touch that made it… Spencer couldn't even describe it. It was very good, but to some extent uncomfortable to look at. Almost like a ritualistic crime scene that he was so used to: beautiful, but at the same time terrifying.

"Do you like it?"

“Huh?” the man asked, fearing he had misheard the girl next to him. She nodded toward the exhibit and her brain filled in the blanks. “The painting? Yes, I think it's very good. I'm afraid I'm not a great connoisseur of artistic currents, but from a very point of view this could be part of The Black Paintings, Francisco de Goya's collection”

“I know them,” you said happily. “My favorite is that one about Saturn devouring his son. You know, the one where they're eating a…” you started to say, making signs with your hands that he understood immediately.

“I think art is very subjective, like everything in the world. Some people may consider the Mona Lisa a masterpiece and others may appreciate more the style of Van Gogh or the cubism of Picasso and they are all right. Each person enjoys art things that reflect the content of their soul and I think that is the beautiful thing about paintings, don't you think?

“You know a lot for someone who is not knowledgeable about art” you smiled, feeling captivated by the way the stranger next to you expressed himself.

“Actually I say that I am not a connoisseur because I don’t want to offend those who are. I've only read a couple of books on the subject and... well, I love coming to museums, but that's all”

“Honestly, I think it's very ugly,” you said suddenly, turning your head slightly to observe the painting “It looks a little strange on the bottom, whoever did it should improve their technique a little.”

Spencer felt strange hearing such a cruel comment coming from a person who seemed to be sweet, but he figured you would have your reasons for holding that opinion. He considered leaving there but his attempt was interrupted by another presence, this time a man dressed in an elegant suit who approached you.

“Miss Y/L/N” he greeted you cordially, while you shook his hand “I see you came to appreciate our exhibition, do you like the light we put there? Does it help the colors of the work or do you want us to change it to a warmer one?”

“Oh, don't worry Frank. I like that one, it makes it look gloomy” you answered nonchalantly “You just should put it somewhere else, I'm not very proud of this one in particular”

"What are you talking about? Many people liked it. Isn't it good, gentleman?” he asked, turning to Spencer who was watching the two of them curiously.

“It's beautiful,” he confessed. He actually thought that, he wasn't saying it out of commitment or anything, and his response made you smile sheepishly.

"Stop. Everything is perfect here, thank you for giving it a home in your gallery”

“And there will be more spaces in the future, think about it,” the man murmured, squeezing your shoulder warmly and friendly. “Have a good night, excuse me.”

“Goodbye, Frank.”

The two of you watched the man walk down the hallway until he got lost in a turn and then the agent turned his attention to you.

“So you're an artist?”

“I try that” you laughed. He took a look at you and then at the picture in front of you, as if he had a hard time believing that you were the creator, of course due to the difference in styles that both elements had “But I like that people don't know, so I can hear honest opinions. And I appreciate yours, you are very kind.”

"I only say what I see"

“Would it be very bold of me if I asked you to be my model one day?” you asked cautiously, hoping not to scare him with your request.

"A model?"

“I really like your jaw,” you exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air at the line you were talking about. “And the way your hair falls. They are nice to paint”

“Well, I…I would be flattered,” Spencer said, not knowing how to react to what you had just said. Something like that had never been suggested to him and he felt strange, but excited at the same time.

“Do you want to write me your number?”

“I can give you my card,” he stammered, digging in his briefcase so he could give you the piece of paper. When he extended it to you, you analyzed it with curiosity.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. FBI” you read, quite impressed “So we both got a surprise today, huh?”

"Definitely"

“I'll call you,” you promised, pocketing the card warily and rewarding him with one of yours. They were simpler with hand-painted details and with fewer titles, but it would be useful for him to contact you “And who knows, maybe the next time you come it will be you who is in the gallery.”

Spencer blushed at the thought and smiled at you, wondering how possible that was. You responded to the smile with pleasure, because unintentionally you had just found the one who would permanently become your muse.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

[otomefiend]

Alfons Sylvatica

Collection Event: All because of a slight fever.

Alfons is great at taking care of people. I shouldn't be surprised, since he was taking care of Elbert, in his own way, big chunk of his life. 11/10 I would have him around when I'm feeling ill *cough*and when I'm not lol*cough*. He's obviously a major troll in this lil snippet. The day he stops is the day Earth becomes flat. Kate, face yourself asap.

~~~

(Ughh... my body feels heavy...)

I was full of cold, most likely because the temperature had changed dramatically lately.

At that point, I decided to heed Victor's advice and have a proper rest --

Alfons: "Pardon my impertinence, but I'm afraid I'll be looking after you."

Kate: "Really, you Alfons...?"

I cast a sceptical glance at Alfons, who had come to visit my room.

Alfons: "When you have a cold, your body and mind are weakened, so I was hoping I could help."

Kate: "........."

Whenever he had the opportunity, Alfons tried to seduce me with sweet words and lead me into a world of his dirty pleasures.

(Maybe today he's planning to do something indecent again under the guise of nursing...)

(I'm afraid I'm slowly becoming unable to resist...)

Kate: "... I'll get over this cold soon, so you don't need to worry about me."

Alfons: "Then you don't have to hold back because my care will end soon as well... Right?"

Kate: "But..."

Alfons: "When you have a cold, you can abandon all restrictions and allow yourself to be pampered without a care about appearances."

Alfons: "Even if something goes wrong... no one can blame you."

Alfons: "That's because the disease that affects you makes you do it."

The words, thick and sweet as syrup, began to consume me.

(Not my fault, huh...? That's one way to look at it...)

Alfons: "Now that you agree with me... please excuse me."

He began to remove his black leather gloves, perhaps interpreting my lack of immediate refusal as acceptance.

Kate: "What are you...?"

My body, weakened by the cold, couldn't react fast enough and Alfons' hand touched my nape.

And all of a sudden, the chill and fatigue caused by the illness disappeared.

Kate: "... amazing! It's like I never caught it in the first place."

His ability to completely change one's perception was immense, easily taking away the pain of my condition.

Alfons: "You're not cured, so please don't push yourself too hard."

Kate: "... I'm grateful."

Alfons: "Don't mention it. Now, shall we continue the treatment?"

~~~

Afterwards, Alfons arranged my meals and wiped sweat off my brow...

Taking care of me all day long.

Alfons: "You've had your medicine, now all you need to do is sleep and get some rest."

Kate: "Y-yes..."

(I thought he was going to do something to me, but all he really did was take care of me)

(It's rather... disappointing-- )

(....gah, what am I thinking...)

Alfons: "-- say."

Kate: "Yes!? W-what!?"

Disturbed by my strange train of thoughts, I heard my voice come out as a squeak.

Alfons: "Your hand. Is everything all right?"

Prompted by his broad grin, I looked at my hand and saw...

That I unconsciously grabbed his clothes as he was about to leave.

Kate: "Ah! T-this isn't what you think it is...!"

Alfons: "No need to panic. I get it."

Alfons: "When you're unwell, you might feel lonely and miss the human touch..."

Alfons: "It's perfectly reasonable to hold onto anyone who is available."

Kate: "R-really?"

(He was right, I... felt lonely)

(But, could it really be anyone...?)

Had it not been Alfons before me, would I have clung to them in the same way?

Alfons: "Then, if you so desire, shall I continue to provide you with my excellent care for a little longer?"

Alfons: "Now, empty your head and entrust your body to me."

Kate: "W-what are you planning to do...?"

Alfons: "What else... other than trying my hardest to put some heat into your body."

~~~

Alfons: "How is it? Is your body getting hot?

He queried me whilst kneeling at my feet.

Kate: "........."

Alfons: "Kate?"

Kate: "A-ah... I'm sorry. I was just a little surprised..."

Kate: "It feels so good. Thank you for the foot bath."

I felt a little nervous after Alfons' words, but all he did was prepare a foot bath for me.

He put my feet in hot water and massaged them, warming my body from the base up.

Alfons: "I'm glad you liked it. But you were surprised... by what, may I ask?"

Kate: "Huh!? Well... The way you spoke made me think that you were going to do something reprehensible to me..."

Alfons: "Something reprehensible... what exactly?"

Kate: "Erm, that is..."

Alfons: "........."

Kate: "... Are you trying to have fun at my expense?"

Alfons: "I would never! I only asked because I haven't got a clue."

(... that's an utter lie)

Responding to his shameless smile with a reproachful stare of my own, I spoke with seriousness in my voice.

Kate: "... something obscene. I thought that taking care of me was just an excuse."

Alfons: "Oh? That's what you were hoping for. I'm truly sorry I couldn't live up to your expectations."

Kate: "I...I wasn't hoping for anything like that! I was just surprised that you seriously took care of me, unlike your usual behaviour..."

Contrary to my worst predictions, Alfons was today as gentlemanly as one could be, a changed man.

Alfons: "You seem to have misunderstood something... it's not my intention to hurt you in any way."

Alfons: "I wouldn't force you to do anything, more so when you're unwell."

Kate: "... you wouldn't, huh?"

(Hmm? But if that's the case...)

Kate: "... somehow, nothing stopped you from doing all sorts of things to me in the past."

The corners of his mouth lifted in response to my perfectly reasonable question.

Alfons: "Becuse you haven't disliked it so far, have you?"

Kate: "That's..."

...not true, is what I wanted to say, but I hesitated.

(Have I truly disliked what he did to me until now...?)

(I...)

Alfons: "... It doesn't matter if you can't recognise it now."

Alfons: "I'll wait until you're ready to face yourself."

He smiled as if he knew me better than I knew myself.

Alfons: "When that happens... let's spend even more pleasant moments together."

~~~

He was like a demon who corrupted people with his sweet words...

a disease afflicting me, reaching deeper than any cold ever could.

~~~

[peepflakes]

So, that gender huh?

Dropping some thoughts about my gender and the realisatioons I made over the years. This is a long read, Ye be warned

So, cut back several years when Im just getting out of high school. I'm a very Straight, Cis male with some kinks that I feel ashamed about, but! The artists and other folks in that community who share in these kinks are all realizing things about their own sexuality and other aspects that start to chip away at how I perceived myself. The first was that I wasn't straight, that the only reason that I had for being straight was "well, I'm a Guy™! I cant like things like cock or masculine features in a sexual or romantic way!" Yeah, pretty flimsy rationale, and I didn't hold that belief for long But, it was an important barrier to break! After I realized I wasn't straight, I had other thoughts: what else had I been denying? ....Was I Cis? Pah! What am I saying! Of course I'm Cis! I'm sure Most cis folks feel generally apathetic to their Assigned gender. I'm sure most Cis males would rather be a girl if given an easy excuse to do so.   Surely (this went on for several years) Anyways, now we're close to the present and I just discovered Kyria's streams And it's such a kink positive and openly LGBTQA+ Space that my thoughts on my gender start to reach a boiling point

And then she says it out loud

"Hey, if your questioning your gender or still figuring things out, You can just be a girl here, this is a safe space to try it out and be yourself"(not exactly what she said, but how I interpreted it)

And, yeah, here we are now, I'm Bi, I'm Trans And the shame on the kinks I have is steadily wearing away I feel like this got away from me a lil bit but the TLDR is: If I hadn't been in spaces that we're openly kinky/LGBTQA+ I dont think I would be who I am today

[dendrite-blues]

For a relatively short exchange, this scene is jam packed with characterization for Loki. 

It’s also our first reliable look into what Loki was like before Thor 1. Not as described by others, but first hand and from his own mouth. I think that deserves a closer look, to see what we can learn about Loki and how he thinks.

This scene is significant because it tells us what Loki’s personality is like when he’s not running for his life. It tells us who he was before his trauma and what his core beliefs are underneath those layers of humor and bravado.

Better yet, since he’s alone we can assume that every line in this scene is presumably true, or at least Loki believes it to be true since he has no audience but himself. 

The dialogue centers mostly around the statement “You deserve to be alone, and you always will be.” I’m not going to focus too much on the “alone” motif since I already dedicated an entire meta post to it.

What I think is more interesting about this scene is actually the looping, and the stages Loki goes through in trying to deal with it. There’s a lot of really interesting character traits on display in that progression.

Loop 1: A Warm Bath and Glass of Wine

The first loop entails Sif lecturing Loki about cutting her hair, kicking him in the balls, and storming away. Loki kneels on the floor and he gives us this great line:

“A bad memory prison? How quaint. Some punishment. I remember exactly what I did after that. I went and had a nice, hot bath and a glass of wine, and I never thought about it again. Because it was just a bit of fun.”

So we can take this to be Loki’s default reaction to pain and criticism. When put into an unexpected conflict without any forethought or outside influence, this is what he says/does.

1) Downplay the damage/threat. How quaint. 2) Dispel/soothe the emotion. Nice hot bath. 3) Minimize the impact. Never thought about it again. 4) Deflect responsibility. Just a bit of fun.

Keep those in mind as we move forward, since we’ll be using them to make sense of what else Loki says in this scene.

Loops 2 and 3: Okay, Sif, Hang On

This bit is about Loki realizing just how bad his predicament is.

L: Okay. Okay, Sif. Hang on. S: No, you hear this. You deserve to be alone... And I always will be. L: Alright, I get it. Listen. You are a reconstruction of a past event created by the organization that controls all of time. So you need to trust me and you need to help me escape. Yeah? S: Pathetic. (she kicks him again) L: (winces and groans)

As we all would expect from him, Loki’s first impulse is to try and talk his way out of it. What he says to achieve that goal is pretty revealing though. Because he doesn’t try to ease Sif’s upset by apologizing or explaining or offering to magic her hair back. 

Any of these would have been more likely to save his nads in the given circumstance, right? The present threat is Sif, and she’s mad about what Loki did to her hair. But Loki doesn’t really see that. Rather, he treats her as a means to an end.

“So you need to trust me and you need to help me escape. Yeah?”

To me, that choice reveals something of a blind spot Loki has to the feelings of others. Even if he doesn’t actively like hurting people, he does prioritize their problems below his, and quite shamelessly. And at least on his first impulse, he doesn’t seem to feel much remorse or empathy for them.

Usually in fanon we attribute this callousness to his trauma. He’s learned that no one can be trusted and no one cares, and so he doesn’t allow himself to care for others. 

But between his Loop 1 sentiment of “It was just a bit of fun” for an event which caused real hurt to Sif, and his Loop 2/3 behavior of “you, stop being mad and help ME” I think it’s reasonable to say that selfishness/low empathy are traits Loki possessed pre-trauma.

Loop 4-????: Happens Off Screen

It’s unclear how many times Loki loops while the camera is following Mobius, but the implication is clear that it was been many, many repetitions. Somewhere in this his denial and deflection must break, because we come back to a much humbler, more pleading Loki.

The Final Loop: I Crave Attention

S: You conniving, craven... L: Sif. Sif. S: ...pathetic worm. L: Please, please, no more. Please, I beg you. I'm a horrible person. I get it. I really am. I cut off your hair because I thought it'd be funny. And it's not. Uh... I crave attention... because I'm... a narcissist. And I suppose it's... It's because I'm scared of being alone.

HOOO BOY, so this is quite a tough bit to analyze. There’s a lot of interpretations you could make, and a lot of topics to delve into. For the sake of focus, I’m going to ignore the narcissism question. That one really needs an entire post, and I want to focus on something else here.

That being, Loki’s way of processing conflict/punishment.

I’ve always found it strange how Loki takes such pride in being called a liar and cheat when he simultaneously has this chip on his shoulder about how nobody likes him. 

Those two traits don’t seem to play well together, and I always scratched my head over how they coexist in his character. If he wants people to be nicer to him, maybe he should stop antagonizing them? Yeah?

Well, here we’re finally given a clear reason. Loki craves attention, he hates being alone. So how does he avoid it? Pranks and mischief. 

Fair enough.

But then, if all his pranks lead to this outcome--outrage, retaliation, insult--why doesn’t he ever learn? How is it that after 1000 years of this behavior, he hasn’t found a better way to get the attention he craves? 

Loop 1: Downplay, dispel, minimize, deflect. He accepts zero accountability for the impact of his actions, and doesn’t think at all about how they affect other people. Just a bit of fun. I had a hot bath and a glass of wine, and never thought about it again. 

The only reason he reaches the level of self awareness on display in the Final Loop is because the looping forces him to contemplate his actions and the impulses within him that lead to that behavior.

This is projection on my part, but to me he acts as though this kind of deep reflection is a new thing for him. He sounds like someone sharing a revelation that he’s just had about himself. We’re being shown that Loki is a man of action. He will always move forward if he can, possibly because looking back to so painful that he can’t bring himself to do it.

Circling back around to the pride Loki has for his knavery, let’s suppose that he’s been on this negative reinforcement cycle since childhood. He’s always acted out to get attention, then received retaliation and insults for it, and then pushed the bad feelings out of his mind with creature comforts and mental gymnastics.

What happens over time, when you’re being constantly told that you’re a pain in the ass and no one likes you? Most of us would take it to heart, but Loki doesn’t. He has a big ego, big enough to resist that constant barrage of hate coming at him.

So how does he marry these two conflicting realities? 

He turns it into an identity, the God of Mischief. 

In his head, Loki excuses himself of blame by shifting the culpability to his moniker. It’s not that he’s immature and petty, he’s just a “trickster.” It’s in his nature to cause trouble, so he can’t help it. You wouldn’t dangle a steak in front of a tiger and blame the tiger for striking, would you? And if other people can’t take a “joke” then that’s not his fault, that’s on them for not having a sense of humor. It was just a bit of fun.

Here we see the union of these two halves of Loki, the lonely ice runt and the mischievous scamp. (And a little bit of the original Loki who Thor accused of being incapable of growth!) 

By refusing to think about others, and excusing himself from responsibility, Loki successfully preserves his self worth and insulates himself to most of the negative emotions he experiences.

Pain, embarrassment, and grief aren’t pointless emotions though. They are vital feelings that serve to regulate our behavior, and that push us to conform to the ways of our social circles. Without them, we annoy and upset others. Be annoying for long enough and you will eventually find yourself, well, alone. As Loki is.

Thus “Mischief” is a self-defeating loop, and Loki is just as caught in it as the cell Mobius trapped him in.

In order to be free of both traps, Loki has to stop running. He has to take a deeper look at himself and realize how much he is getting in his own way. The entire scene is one big parallel between these two “loops.” Pretty neat, huh?

Sadly these kinds of thought loops are really difficult to break, they’re buried so deeply in our personalities and habits that we usually don’t notice them until life forces us to address them.

The cell is Loki’s wake up call, and thankfully he does seem to rise to the occasion. He tells Sif quite clearly what his problem is, and he does it with beautiful, painful honesty.

Which is why it’s so fucking awesome for Mobius to acknowledge that, and to finally give Loki a taste of positive attention. 

You don’t deserve to be alone. I believe you can be anything, even something good. Whatever you two did, it was powerful enough to bring this whole place down.

It’s a beautiful scene. Well written, meticulously acted. The clarity of vision in the pacing and shot selection, it’s really something special.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

“Are you here all night?” Jason asked, “or are you planning to, you know, be a human? I think those go home sometimes.”

High above Jason’s head, a swarm of bats entered the cave, winding among the stalactites and screeching a kind of garbled response.

Dick, however, said nothing. He remained bent over one of the long tables on the cavern floor, examining a map Jason could barely see from his own seat a short distance behind, ignoring Jason and his sarcasm both. 

Jason didn’t enjoy being ignored. 

Fine. 

“I have some tasks you could take over,” he suggested, in his least helpful voice, “if you’re in the market for an excuse to keep working. I know you make those sometimes.”

Nothing.

“I have some weapons to clean, if you want to do that. You could type out all my old cases, if that works, because I only have the originals and those are hard to work with.”

Still nothing.

“Take out the trash?” Jason tried. “Wash the dishes? I put a load of laundry in a couple of hours ago, but there’s a wool jacket in the mix, so be careful what you put in the dryer.”

Dick didn’t move. Jason was enjoying himself now.

“Write a sonnet? Map the White House?” Jason held up a finger Dick couldn’t see, like he had just remembered something interesting. “I think there’s a library on 8th that exploded a few days back, so if you could just grab the rubble from the street and rebuild it by hand, that would be great.”

No reaction. 

“Whatever,” said Jason, “I’m out of here. Get some sleep maybe? I know the whole work-to-outrun-despair routine is your ‘thing,’ or whatever, but it never looks good on you. Have you considered—”

Jason cut himself off as Dick finally turned away from the table. Looking him in the eye, Jason felt suddenly and inexplicably afraid. 

“Go on,” said Dick, quietly.

“I’m just… saying that it might make things worse, to shut off and—” Jason pointed at the mound of paper on the table, “obsess over this stuff instead.”

“You think?” Dick asked. “No shit.”

Jason blinked. “Wait, are you—”

“Did you think it never occurred to me,” said Dick, “that I might be spinning out?”

“I didn’t say you were spinning out.”

“Were you thinking that maybe,” Dick leaned back against the table edge and crossed his arms, carefully casual in a way Jason didn’t like, “hey maybe I, Dick Grayson, haven’t noticed how it feels to be forty-nine hours into a case and puking in the bathroom sink?”

“I didn’t—”

“Maybe I just haven’t realized why my vision blurs out and I can’t think straight, and it’s weird how this happens—” Dick held up a hand, and Jason could see his fingers shaking, “—if I keep going for too long.”

“I didn’t mean to—”

“Wow, yeah, now that you mention it, this might be,” Dick said, flatly, “bad.” 

Jason glanced down at his boots to break the eye contact. “I’ll back off,” he said. “I’ll go.”

“It might be bad that I can’t sleep until I’m falling-over exhausted. Maybe I shouldn’t be taking all these cases—”

“I said I’ll back off.”

“Or writing all these notes or spending weeks on research, more than that on training—”

“Listen—”

“I probably shouldn’t be leading all these teams, huh?” Dick smiled in a way that reminded Jason of what he should have remembered before he opened his own mouth: that Dick could be very, very dangerous. “Can I get your opinion on that?”

“I’ll—”

“I KNOW!”

Jason stumbled back a step in shock. 

“I KNOW that I’m working too hard!” Dick yelled, “And I KNOW why I do it!”

“Okay!” Jason backed away again. “Okay, I get it!”

“I work so I don’t have to think! I’d rather drop dead doing this shit than stop for the millisecond it would take to feel again! Are you happy now?”

“Calm down, okay? I didn’t—”

“I don’t want to feel,” said Dick, gesturing around him, “so I’m going to stand right here over and over again.”

“Fine!”

“And I’m going to keep shutting down because it goddamn WORKS!”

Dick turned away again, bending over the table like he hadn’t said anything at all. Jason stood frozen for a moment, staring. 

“Does it?” he asked into the silence.

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Do you have something better?”

Jason looked down at his own hands and saw that they were shaking too.

“No,” he said.

“Then fuck off.”

Jason turned to leave, but Dick, it appeared, wasn’t ready to let it go. 

“I’m alive,” he said. “I’m standing and walking and doing all the things that matter.”

“Yeah.” 

“I’ve had enough of— enough of asking for help and getting—” Dick jerked an arm above his head, still turned away. “I don’t want to hear that the way I live is self-destructive. I already know. That’s why I’m here, that’s what I’m saying, that’s why I’m trying.” 

“Yeah.”

“Just… show me something better, or let me self-destruct.”

Jason fumbled awkwardly for something to say. “I’m sure— I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but whoever that is— I’m sure they’re… trying to help.”

“You weren’t,” said Dick.

“No, I wasn’t.”

“You were trying to land a cheap shot,” said Dick, “and feel like you’re better than me.”

Yes, that was true. Jason wasn’t sorry, exactly, but he regretted it, and those were different things.  

“I guess that makes me an asshole.”

“And a hypocrite.” Dick turned around again and leaned back in the same way, quiet, in control. “You never stop either… not since the pit anyway.”

“Don’t.”

“I mean it’s different, obviously, because I don’t think you’re trying to hide it. Me, I don’t want cracks to show. I don’t want all this grief and anger and— you said despair, right?”

“Stop.”

“I don’t want the despair to show because I want to look whole, but you—”

“You’ve made your point.”

“You want to look like a week-old corpse rotting on the concrete, and may I say?” Dick smiled. “Excellent performance. You look exactly like that.”

Jason didn’t say anything.

“It’s a world of difference,” Dick continued, “because I— I’m pushing through pain… and you’re pushing to feel it.”

For a moment, they stared at each other, and Jason found that it was difficult to breathe. 

“I could yell back for that,” he said. It came out softly, more soft than he meant, as Jason shoved away something very close to shame.

“Do it.”

“No. I think it’s funny when people call me the angry one.” Jason looked down at his shaking hands again. 

“I am angry,” he conceded, “but you’re just as bad as I am.”

“Thematic,” Dick snapped. “Get out.” 

“No. You opened this book, so we’re going to read it. You’re right.”

“Leave.”

“You’re right, I do exactly what you just said I do. Sometimes I don’t sleep for days, and it’s not because I can’t.”

Well, that might not be fully true, so Jason stopped to backtrack.

“I mean,” he corrected, “I don’t know if I could sleep, if I really tried, but that’s the point I’m making. I don’t try. I don’t want to sleep.”

“I said leave.”

“It’ll be four in the morning and I’m slumped sideways on my couch watching surveillance footage I don’t need to watch, because I know when I finally drag myself to the bathroom mirror, I’ll look like hell—”

“Get out!”

“—and I want to! I feel like hell, I feel like goddamn Brutus in the Devil’s jaws, and I want to look like it. If I look like death, that means my pain is real.”

“Get out or regret it.”

“Oh, I know it’s self-destructive,” said Jason, smiling his best unnerving smile. “How could I miss it when I’m blacking out in stairwells and picking fights on purpose, just to get kicked around?”

That particular sentence, it appeared, caught Dick’s attention, because he stayed quiet this time, glaring from across the room.

Well then, Jason decided, it was time to push further. 

“Let’s get personal, shall we? Why do I live in this fucking city to see you or him or whoever else is living in the capes this week? I’m not shooting for reconciliation!”

“Well?”

“I’m going to stay here and cause problems until every single one of you hates me enough to shove me away. How’s my performance, by the way? Is it working? I’d love to get your opinion.”

Dick made a face that Jason couldn’t interpret, so Jason chose to press on. 

“It’ll hurt when I pull that off because I do actually care about you, but you know what? I’ll like that. Maybe someday all of this will kill me, and I’ll kind of like that too.” 

Jason paused a beat to let Dick interject, but Dick didn’t. 

“Your turn,” said Jason pleasantly. “Thoughts?”

Nothing.

“I like the aesthetic of self-destruction,” said Jason. “I’m going to look in the mirror tomorrow and see dark circles and scars, and it’s going to feel like being myself in a way that nothing else does.”

In that moment, watching Dick glare, Jason felt very tired— not in a way that sleep could solve, and not in a way that anyone could fix. No matter what Jason did, no matter what he tried, he could always feel himself sinking. He was empty and heavy at the same time, somehow trapped in place, unable to do anything except lie in his own blood.

A rotting corpse indeed.

“I’m not judging you,” said Jason. “I don’t have the space for that. I won’t tell you to just… change. I’m sick of hearing that too, hearing that I don’t have to do this to myself, that I am doing this to myself.”

Dick nodded. Jason wasn’t sure at what, but it felt like permission to keep going, so he did.

“I know I’m holding on to something I shouldn’t,” Jason admitted, even though it hurt to say out loud. “I know, but I can’t let go when there’s nothing else to take. I don’t have anything profound to say. I don’t… know what else there is.”

That was it. That was all Jason had, so he shrugged and stared down at the floor, waiting.

“I think if I stop working I’ll fall apart,” said Dick, finally, “and this time I won’t be able to scrape myself together.”

“Yeah.”

“I think fine, so I don’t have to keep going. I don’t have to shove away the dark and force myself through, but what would happen if I didn’t?”

“I don’t know.”

“I would be a shivering, hollow shape on my floor, maybe forever. I don’t know what I want to be, but I can’t be… I can’t be only that.” 

Jason understood.

“It’s hard,” said Dick. “I always hear— and say, I say this to other people— that things can be okay. I guess it’s true, but does it matter?” 

“What do you mean?”

“Unless I leave the cave right now and never come back, this is my life. I have an apartment and a fucked-up family—”

“Thanks.”

“—and I spend every night jumping through smog and the ghosts of everything I’ve ever done.”

“Saving people,” Jason noted.

“Win some,” said Dick, “lose some. How many times have you watched a person die?”

“A few.”

“A few.” Dick shook his head. “I know too much, but I have too much to leave behind.”

“I have a guy who makes passports on demand, if you change your mind,” said Jason. “He’s amazing.”

“Thanks.”

“Prints while you wait.”

Dick shot Jason a flat kind of look.

“What?” Jason asked. “It would simplify my plans.”

Dick half-smiled at that, and Jason got the sense that they were done yelling, maybe, for awhile.

“I feel trapped, and I don’t know how to fix myself,” said Dick, “while I’m still… here.” 

“Yeah.”

“I’m just trying to stay alive.”

“I know. Me too.”

“It isn’t getting any easier.” 

Jason thought about that for awhile. It would be nice to have an answer— something simple to say, some match to light in their common ground— but Jason couldn’t find one, so he shrugged again and hoped that understanding would be enough. 

It had to be something, didn’t it?

It was the best he could do. There were times, Jason figured, to talk about breathing exercises and the mess of self-help books piled on his dresser, but he knew this wasn’t one of them. They could call it catharsis, he decided, and leave it at that. 

“We could say it’s Bruce’s fault?” Jason suggested, since he was out of other ideas. “I like blaming Bruce for the shit I do.”

“You do?”

“Fuck off.”

Dick smiled fully at that one. “I’m not above it either.”

“Great,” said Jason. “Can I leave a note saying we blame him? No context at all, maybe on a single post-it? I think it would be really funny.”

“Sure.”

“I’ll bounce after that, for real this time.” Jason spun a finger in a circle a few times, pointing around the cave. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“Yeah.” Dick tapped a finger against the table a few times, like he was thinking. After a moment, he pulled a bag from the edge and started packing up his things. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, me too.”

Fin.

---

art by @doc-squash​

[kirishimaswife2819]

hi, sorry, I've been kind of having problems. i dont think people are capable of loving me, and I think everyone its going to leave me alone at the end of the day. so, can I request a scenario for izuku, kirishima and denki meeting the reader that happens to feel like this? it's okay if you don't want to do it

have a nice day ♡

Them Finding Out Their S/o/Crush Thinks People Are Incapable of Loving Them || Midoriya, Kirishima, and Kaminari

Masterlist 1 || Masterlist 2

↠Author’s Note: I’m struggling with this as well so I sort of based it a little bit off of my own feelings/habits since they’re probably fairly similar to yours but apologies if they’re not. Also ik you requested scenarios but I felt that headcanons would be a bit easier for me to write, and also I did it more them finding out their s/o/crush feels that way than them just meeting them, so I hope that’s fine! If not I can redo these. But I hope you like these! I’m sorry you feel that way :( But people do care about you and love you! -Danielle <3

↠Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Eijiro Kirishima, and Denki Kaminari x Reader

↠Summary: Them finding out that their s/o/crush thinks that people are incapable of loving them and that everybody is going to leave them eventually

↠Genre: Comfort/fluff

↠Word Count: 1.2k

↠Warnings: Reader thinks that nobody loves them and that everybody’s going to leave them

↠Notes: None

Izuku Midoriya:

When you two first started hanging out and becoming friends, he took notice to how you always were kind of distant, like you were trying not to get attached to him or anything, and that kind of hurt his feelings

Why were you so distant? Did you not want to be his friend? He thought that for a while and he was venting to Uraraka about it and she was like “if they didn’t want to be your friend they would make excuses not to hang out with you, and ignore your texts, but they don’t, right?” and then he realized that it might be something deeper than just you not wanting to be his friend

Eventually, he worked up the courage to confess his feelings for you, and he wasn’t sure what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t what happened

He expected maybe a “oh, sorry I see you as a brother” or “I don’t really like you that way, sorry” or something just as heartbreaking as a response to his, “I think I love you!” that he blurted out after stuttering

But what he didn’t expect was a plain and simple, “No you don’t”

Like, what? How are you going to go around saying what he feels? Plus, did you just accuse him of lying? He wasn’t a liar!

“Y/n, what do you mean, ‘no you don’t’? Because, yes, I do. Why do you think I’m lying?”

And after you explained your reasoning, that people were incapable of loving you and that everybody would just end up leaving you at the end of the day, Izuku was very shocked and he didn’t bother hiding it

How could you feel that way about yourself? You were so amazing and fun and you were such a good friend! Why wouldn’t somebody be able to love you? Because Izuku sure did and he definitely had no intentions of leaving, not now, and he wasn’t sure that he ever would

He wasn’t sure where it came from, but when you said that, he got this sudden burst of confidence, he put away his shy, stuttering self to reassure you that he loved you very much, and that he was never going to leave you

“That’s not true, Y/n! You’re so amazing, and so pretty/handsome, and you’re literally one of my best friends! It’s definitely not impossible to love you, because I do! And if I ever even think about abandoning you then go ahead and take away my quirk because I don’t deserve it if I would do something like that to someone as perfect as you!”

If you’re anything like me, then you’re definitely not going to believe him the first time he says this, or the second, or even the third, but he’s going to continue to say it and do actions to prove it until you believe that he loves you and is never going to leave you

Eijiro Kirishima:

He didn’t really interpret you being a little distant as you not wanting to be friends with him, at least not at first, he just figured you were a little nervous or shy (and maybe you are) but after you didn’t really begin to warm up to him, he did get a little insecure, and start to think that maybe you just didn’t like him

But he didn’t want to stop talking to you if that wasn’t the truth and if you actually wanted to keep being his friend, so he confronted you about it one day

You two ended up in the kitchen together at like 12 am, you had both been getting a snack and he decided to confront you while you were waiting for your food to cook in the microwave

“Hey, Y/n, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything, but is there a reason you’re distant with me? If you don’t want to be my friend or I’m making you uncomfortable then just let me know! I’ll leave you alone or whatever.”

And then after you replied that you knew he didn’t really like you (as a friend or romantically) and that you knew he was just going to end up leaving you, and that you didn’t want to get your feelings hurt again, his first response was simply, “What?”

He meant as in like, he didn’t feel that way at all, why would you think that? But you took it as, you were right and everything you said was true, so then you went on a whole rant about how it was fine and you weren’t mad at him or anything and you didn’t hate him for it

Mans had to force himself not to run over to you and give you the biggest hug he could possibly give because he didn’t want to make you uncomfy, but at the same time he just wanted to hug you and cuddle you for hours

So, he settled for interrupting you halfway through

“No, no, no! Shut up! I don’t think that, I love you! Why do you think nobody loves you or that they can’t? And I’m definitely not going to leave you! Who told you that? Because I have a few things to say to them.” And when you didn’t reply, he spoke again, “Can I give you a hug?”

And after a small nod, you were immediately in the red head’s arms, your body being squished between his arms, as he hugged you as tight as he possibly could without squishing your insides and accidentally killing you

Denki Kaminari:

Also took you being kinda distant as you being shy, but eventually he came to the conclusion that he was making you uncomfy or you just didn’t like him

So, he apologized to you one day after class, “Hey! I realized I was making you uncomfortable and I’m really sorry about that! Or maybe you just don’t want to be my friend, and that’s fine too! I’ll just be on my way, thanks for putting up with me!”

But after you replied with that you did like him, and think he was cool, you just knew that he was faking it, and that he was going to end up leaving, he was like “Huh?”

Did you really think he was that much of a jerk? Like sure, he flirts with a lot of people, but you were different! He paid way more attention to you than anybody else, and you were his first choice out of everybody, did he really give off that vibe that he didn’t really like you?

“What!? No! That’s not true. I mean, I know I flirt with a lot of people, but I really like you, I’m sorry if I came off as if I didn’t.”

And then when you continued to insist that he didn’t like you, he was starting to get a little more pissed off. Why didn’t you believe him!? He really liked you, why couldn’t you see that!

Anyway, then he went on a whole rant about how great you were and how much he liked you and all of that, and how he was going to work super hard to make sure that you knew what he was saying was the truth

[mashiraostail]

how would present mic, aizawa, toshinori and sir nighteye act around the person they have a crush on? (I love your writing btw!! <3)

Thank you for the ask!! I’m glad you like it (^:

Hizashi:  You’d have to be the most oblivious person on the planet not to notice.  He wears his heart on his sleeve for better or for worse. He tries to get your attention all the time through jokes or by asking you seemingly random questions, will ask you endless questions about your music taste, and give you a ton of recommendations just as an excuse to keep talking to you. When you enter a room he is immediately looking at you, he probably pays you at least one compliment a day, probably more. Big grand ones like ‘you look amazing in that outfit!’ to tiny ones like ‘your handwriting is really nice!’ or ‘the coffee today was better than usual did you make the pot?’   He also always grinning at you, and he definitely shows his affection through active listening, and if you don’t stop him, physical touch.  He’ll learn a lot about you and make a huge effort to ask you about the things you like all while putting a hand on your knee or shoulder between animated gestures. This could go either way, if you ask him out he’ll be totally delighted and accept immediately, but if you don’t seem put off by his compliments and touches after a few weeks/months he’ll probably ask you out too.

Aizawa: At first, he’s gonna be more aloof than normal. This sort of thing can be complicated with his work and honestly, he’d rather just write it all off, and he may spend a month or so trying. Classic avoidance. What else did we expect? After he accepts it may not go away until he talks to you about it he’ll probably be pretty upfront. Even if he doesn’t bluntly say he has feelings for you he’ll do a full 180 on his attitude. It’ll catch you seriously off guard. Before he was leaving any room you entered but now he seems to gravitate toward you. Before you were worried he hated you or something, found you weak or worse, but now he’s praising your work openly, and offering you really insightful and considerate help wherever you may need it in a way that doesn’t say ‘you’re a weak idiot’ but is more like ‘I really admire your work and want to help you achieve even more’ If you work together he’ll talk with you about his grading process to see if it helps make yours more time effective to lighten your load, if you work somewhere else he’ll ask about it regularly, and he’ll even give you advice if he can. He’s not usually the most bashful though, so if you don’t connect the dots between his behavior and his feelings in a few weeks he’ll probably get a little impatient and just ask you out flat or bluntly say something like, “I really like spending time with you.” Something that leaves little room for platonic intent without stepping over a boundary of crudeness. 

Toshinori: O the poor man is hopeless. Like Zashi he probably wears his heart on his sleeve, though he does it unintentionally. His body just reacts to you before the rest of him can catch up. He’s a stuttering mess at first. His bashfulness could be interpreted as just plain old awkwardness so it may not read as attraction until he feels bold enough to start paying you compliments, and they’re always really thoughtful. While Hizashi will compliment just about anything you do Toshinori will take careful time to find things that you seem to be self-conscious about, if you think you work poorly on a team he’ll probably say something like ‘you were extra helpful today, it’s nice to have someone around with such a good head on their shoulders.’ If you feel incompetent as a teacher he’ll be sure to ask your students what they like about you and relay the message to you and say something like ‘I talked to a few of your students on my way here today, they seem to be grasping difficult concepts really well, you must be a great teacher, I’d love to watch some time.’ You’ll probably have to be the one to ask him out though, he’s nervous about overstepping bounds, and sometimes he can’t tell where sympathy and interest in him as a person diverge. But he doesn't make his intentions unclear and if you didn’t meet him and feel instant infatuation his kind compliments and all the care and consideration he puts into his relationships with his colleagues will probably win you over in no time. 

Mirai: Like Aizawa he might be a little aloof at first, but for different reasons. This sort of thing makes him nervous and he’s tempted to waste his foresight just to check what goes on between you in the future. But that would be silly so he just thinks about it sometimes..most of the time. After the nervousness passes though he’ll laugh at any and every joke you tell. Even if it’s not funny, and everyone will notice, even Mirio will be a little offended that his well thought out hilarious entrance barely got a chuckle out of the boss but when you muttered, ‘i know what you are but what am I?’ it had Mirai in stitches? Unfair. He pays extra mind to your needs, wants, and interests and he may even start getting you little gifts. ‘Oh you mentioned liking this tv show and while I was on my way here I saw this little keychain in a shop window, I just thought you’d like it, no no I don’t want you to pay me back just have it.’ Also, Mirio meddles 10000%, meddler of the year.  CEO of meddling. He’s constantly encroaching on you like, ‘soooo Sir Nighteye huh? He’s pretty cool. Any... thoughts on that?’ After the one-millionth awkward bump of shoulders and the “Gee, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there!” “No it was my fault, I’m sorry I should have been paying more attention-” “No I’m totally on the wrong side of the hall! I should be more mindful!” Interaction between you that Mirio is forced to witness he probably forces his mentor to ask you out with a teasing threat of setting you up with someone else if he doesn’t do it soon. 

[teruthecreator]

sweet surprises

lord forgive me for the cringe i’m about to post. i fully blame this post and this post for planting the seeds of berdley having a crush on kris in my brain. also shouts out to izel for listening to me go insane at 3 AM about this. 

anyways, here’s a thing. 

______________________________________________________________

Excitement is in the air.

Unlike the usual calm monotony of life at school, things recently have been quite...electric. Not because of the portal to the Dark World hidden behind the door of the closet, or the adventures had by a select group of students through the portal in the Librarby a few days ago. No, this isn’t about that.

This is about the Sadie Hawkman’s Dance. The once-a-year phenomenon where the school puts on its best interpretation of a formal dance for the incredibly small number of students who attend class. Students buzz in excitement for the event, preparing their most formal outfits and getting ready to dazzle their friends and fellow classmates with their dramatic entrances into the auditorium.

And, of course, there’s the all important ritual of asking someone to the dance.

There’s already been a few proposals made this week. Jockington rolled into class like a hula hoop and asked Catti to be his “best bro” for the dance, to which she happily agreed. (And by that, I mean she looked up from her phone, smiled, said not a single word, and went back to typing.) Temmie loudly announced to the class that she would be taking her egg, which was somehow...embarrassed that she mentioned it. And, of course, Noelle finally managed to work up enough courage to ask Susie to the dance. It was done in an incredible display of candy canes that spelled out the phrase: “CAN(E) YOU BE MY DATE TO THE DANCE?” Unfortunately, Susie was about halfway through scarfing the display down before she realized what it said. She then began choking on one of the candy canes out of disbelief, which wound her in the nurse for the rest of the day. But, when she could speak again, she very quietly agreed to Noelle’s proposal (and, if you happened to be a fly on the wall in that room, you could hear a tail thump rhythmically against the doctor’s bench as she did so).

Kris was pleased with everything. They were happy to see their friends so happy together. A long time coming, if you asked them. And they’d be just as happy attending the dance solo, since they’ll undoubtedly be dragged along by Susie. They’d never gone to the dance before--never had a reason to, truth be told. But with their newfound friends, they may just enjoy being a wingman for the night.

...Speaking of wingmen, Berdly will probably be going solo as well. Unsurprising, but Kris makes a mental note to ensure the bird will be in attendance. As much as he is kind of a lot sometimes, he’s their friend. And Kris is going to make sure all of their friends are having fun at that dance!

They walk into class thinking of this (surprisingly early, for a change), which is why they almost miss the massive display sitting boldly atop their desk. They freeze the instant it catches their eye and, for a second, they almost believe it isn’t real. Like some leftover thoughts of the Dark World lingering in their vision. But, after wiping their eyes and seeing that it’s still there, they decide to approach and...investigate.

The display is expertly crafted by someone who clearly knows their way around a glue gun. It is a heart-shaped arch that is decorated with a myriad of printed illustrations of Super Smashing Fighters Melee characters, all having cut-outs to hold different bars of chocolate. There are also numerous origami hearts glued around the characters on the arch, in colors spanning across the rainbow. The arch is painted in swirls of blues, pinks, and reds and covered with a border of glitter that sprinkles onto the desk when Kris reaches out to pluck a chocolate bar from its perch. On the desk itself is a big origami heart that says “TO KRIS” in gold calligraphy. It is by far one of the coolest, nicest, cheesiest things Kris has ever seen.

They look up from the display to see if anyone else is seeing this shit, and that’s when it all clicks.

Because sitting at the front of the classroom, fidgeting way more than normal, is Berdly. He keeps interlocking his ankles underneath his desk before unlocking them and kicking the air, turning around every half-second or so to try and catch Kris’s reaction. From the brief moments Kris can see the front of him, they notice he’s not in his usual white collared shirt and black khaki shorts. Instead, his shirt is buttoned all the way up, with a nice blue bowtie tied around his neck. He also traded out his khaki shorts for a pair of dress pants that look to be a tad too long for his legs. He keeps reaching up to smooth out the feathers on his head, which immediately stick back up from stress.

Now, Kris may be a straight B student, but they’re not stupid. Context clues are a very good thing, and all signs point to Berdly as the culprit of this public display of...affection?

Beyond Berdly is Ms. Alphys at her desk, who shoots Kris a look of deep understanding and maybe...guilt? She looks at Berdly for a split second and shrugs her shoulders, indicating he was probably in here long before she was and so she had no way of stopping him from leaving it there.

Kris looks back down at the display and picks up the large origami heart. As they begin to unfold it, they see a sprawling letter written in the same flashy calligraphy. Kris squints at the letters--they’re dyslexic, so everything kind of just looks like spaghetti on paper. Still, they’re able to make out the largely printed question of “WILL YOU GO TO THE DANCE WITH ME?” with no issue.

Huh, guess they won’t be going to the dance alone after all…? It’s a little confusing as to why Berdly would want to go with them, though. Like, they’ve hung out a little bit--usually whenever Berdly wanted a “worthy rival” to play video games with, he would come over and Kris would whoop his ass for a few hours. And, of course, there were the recent events in the Cyber World; but Kris is pretty sure them and Susie had thoroughly convinced Noelle and Berdley that that was all a dream. So, why them?

They’re lost in this train of thought for so long that they don’t even notice the other kids enter the room until they suddenly hear:

“Yo, Kris???????? What the heck is this thing????” Susie’s voice doesn’t startle them, but it is loud enough to get them to look up. Susie is standing next to their desk, looking at the display with genuine amazement thinly masked by disgust. She’s also loud enough to basically stop the whole class (who were all muttering amongst themselves about it anyway), which gives Kris only a second to gaze around the room before--

SLAM!

The door to the classroom slams shut, leaving one seat unoccupied.

Berdley’s.

“This thing’s got chocolate on it????” Susie continues to marvel at the display while Kris looks at the door, frowning. They feel...bad. It isn’t Berdley’s fault for trying to fit in with the other kids' proposals; he admitted to feeling like he needs to do more just to stand out enough for people to acknowledge him back in the Dark World. And this thing is really...thoughtful! The characters are all ones Kris typically mains, or ones they know Berdley mains, which means he remembers things about Kris. And the chocolate is a given, but it is nice to be able to stock their personal snack stash with some fancy stuff. Ultimately, it’s very sweet, and Kris can’t help but feel a little guilty for not saying anything immediately.

They turn and lock eyes with Ms. Alphys, who looks extremely out-of-depth with this situation. She makes a number of gestures from them to the door in a flustered way of saying I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on please help me Kris I know I’m asking a lot of you but I don’t know how to deal with teenage angst I’m like thirty-five. They sigh, standing up and walking past Susie (but not before giving her a stare that warns her if a single chocolate bar is gone that they will be holding that over her until the day she dies) and following Berdly out the door.

It doesn’t take Kris very long to follow the trail of labored breathing to where Berdley is--in the abandoned classroom, hyperventilating as he teeters on a breakdown. Luckily, when Kris opens the door, it seems to put a halt to his spiralling because he just kind of...freezes. Like a deer caught in headlights. Or a Berdley caught in Kris-lights. Kris takes this moment to let the door shut behind them, trapping the two in here. Together.

“U-Uhhhhh, hi--he--Um. H-Hello, K-Kris…” Berdly attempts to put on his usual bravado, but his voice betrays him brutally by squeaking and cracking on every syllable. Kris can’t help the smile that comes to their face.

“Uh, hey,” they reply with a wave. Berdley continues to stand there and stare (almost like he wasn’t expecting Kris to care enough to follow him) before the present circumstances return to his mind and he begins breathing hard again.

“I-I-I-I, uh...I was. Um. J-Just, uh. G-Getting some fresh air! Y-Yes! The classroom can be s-so stuffy sometimes, I’m sure y-you--you, uh...you agree?” Berdley makes a valiant attempt at hiding his panic, which Kris almost takes pity on. But they don’t think the monster will feel any better if they just pretend what happened back there never happened.

“Yeah. I liked the display.” Kris says simply. Berdley stands stock-straight at that, looking even worse for wear in the “being normal and completely cool” department.

“O-Oh??????? That ol’ thing????? I, um--well I just--y-you see, I--uh. Um,” You can really hear the gears in his head turning as he attempts to come up with an excuse. “I-I-I just thought you w-would appreciate the craftsmanship of!!! A t-true artisan, such as myself!!! So, I!!! M-Made it!!! COMPLETELY PLATONICALLY, OF COURSE!!!! I-I would never imply that my intentions w-were anything other than for bro-sies, i--You didn’t read that whole card, did you?”

“I can’t read,” They mean this as a joke, but they can see Berdley seriously consider this for a second too long. “Dude, I’m dsylexic. I can’t really read cursive…” Berdley freezes up once more, which makes Kris realize they haven’t really projected that as loudly as they might’ve thought.

“Oh! Right! How could I forget! That you’re! Dsylexic!” Berdley’s smile is stapled to his face as he begins to rhythmically knock on his head. “And I! Wrote! That! Entire! Note! In! Cursive! Which! You! Can’t! Read!!!” Kris steps forward in an attempt to keep Berdley from bashing his own skull in, but that only makes Berdley more tense, so they take a step back. “I-I just--The note isn’t important! None of it’s important actually can we forget this interaction ever happened okay? Okay yes that’s great have a wonderful day Kris I will be returning home to sitinmyroomandneverreturntothecorporealrealmalrightgoodbyeforeverKris--” He attempts to sidestep around Kris and out the door, but is very easily intercepted.

“Stop.” Kris grabs him by the shoulders, which seems to shut him up for a second. “Can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Berdley gapes at them as his face steadily grows redder, which makes Kris feel as if there’s something on their face. But he quickly shakes it off, going from completely neurotic to...dejected.

“I just…” He starts, trailing off immediately. “You deserve to have a big proposal, same as everyone else. I-I see you in the back of the class, just...watching. And I, uh, felt it was time to...give you the spotlight! But that was silly of me, wasn’t it?” He looks off to the side at the floor, smiling sadly. “After all, who’d want to go to the dance with me…? I-I’m alone every year, standing in the background. Just kind of...taking it all in...and th-thinking about how it’d be...nice to be a part of it. But that’s...not probable. It was just nice to think about taking you to the dance because you’re--well, you’re nice to me, and you’re funny, and you actually listen to me when I’m talking, an-and you’re a good person and an incredible gaming legend...but I shouldn’t have put it all on you in front of everyone...I’m. I’m sorry, Kris.” He won’t make eye contact with the human, but Kris can still see the tears collecting in his eyes.

“Berdley, that’s stupid.” Kris says, which Berdley cringes at, “Why wouldn’t I wanna go with you?” That part is...not what Berdley was expecting. He looks up at Kris, unsure of where to go from here.

“U-Um…? Because of all the previously stated things? Like me being a complete loser who nobody likes?”

“I like you,” Kris replies immediately, leaving Berdley’s feathers sticking straight up as he flusters. “And I like your display. It’s...really sweet.”

“E-Even if you can’t read the note?” Berdley’s voice cracks.

“I mean, I could read the: WILL YOU GO WITH ME TO THE DANCE part, so, like. Yeah.” Kris shrugs. “Plus, you got me chocolate. Nice chocolate. Nobody...gets me things like that.” They smile, a light dusting of blush across their face. “I’ll go with you.” Berdley’s entire body seizes up for the third time, eyes wide and mouth agape.

“W-W-w-W-w-w-w-w-W-W-W-w-w-w-Wh-Wha-wh-w-w-wha-wha-w-wh-Wh-Wha-wh-Wha-wha-w-w-W-W-W--” Berdley continues to struggle with the word “what” for a solid minute and a half before he’s finally about to manage a: “What?!” Kris can’t help but laugh.

“I said that, Berdley,” at this, they move their grip from his shoulders to his hands, “I will go to the Sadie Hawkman’s dance with you.”

The circuits in Berdley’s brain struggle with this frequency for an extended moment before his face erupts in the giddiest smile Kris has ever seen the bird monster sport. He even begins to jump up and down, taking Kris along with him, as he cackles. It is a surprisingly cute display that Kris finds themselves blushing a bit at. It’s nice to be this...cared about.

“I-I--We have to start thinking of outfits immediately!” Berdley blurts out, returning to their usual demeanor. “I was thinking of some complimentary color schemes on the way to school today which I will be happy to show you at lunchtime. I’m also a master with a sewing machine, so if you are unable to procure an outfit that meets the color requirements, I would be delighted to take your measurements and--w-wait, don’t read into that phrasing, I just m-meant that I could make an outfit for you! B-But I’d need your measurements, and--Oh, goodness, hasn’t class started already, Kris?! We should head back, but--” He looks from the door to Kris and back again a few times before finally settling on something.

“I’lltalktoyouaboutthislaterseeyouinclassKris!!!!!” He says this right before he gives Kris a solitary peck on the cheek before bolting out of the abandoned classroom, leaving Kris blinking at the Berdley-shaped cloud he left behind. Their hand gently grazes the spot on their cheek--luckily not actually pecked by his beak, but more of a quick-kiss kind of peck--and feel their heart skip a beat.

Huh.

That’s...different.

They elect to not dwell on that feeling any longer and head back to class. They have to make sure Susie hasn’t eaten all of the chocolate on that display.

They wouldn’t want to make Berdley go through the trouble of re-proposing  just so they could rightfully claim their other sweet surprise.

[thatdarnblogagain]

The Eternals: Let’s Talk about Phastos (Spoilers)

I am disappointed. Not in the movie. No, Chloe Zhao should hold her head up for crafting a flawed but still highly enjoyable movie. No, what I am disappointed in, is people. Much like Phastos played by Brian Tyree Henry, I sometimes feel myself losing faith in people. But we will get to him in a second. Let me explain why I feel the way I do.

Call me a SJW or Woke, fine, I think those terms are tossed around and misused anytime someone tries to do something different. This film has been reviewed so poorly by critics that I was shocked. 48% on Rotten Tomatoes? That is the worst any MCU film has been rated. That means it is worse than Captain Marvel! Worse than Captain “I have no personality” Marvel. But I still got my money and paid to watch it at the Drive-In with a friend. I remember saying to him, “How is this rated badly?” and he said, “People.”. People, that’s it. People see the need to push back against any and everything without having an unbiased view.

(Another review bomb huh?)

Phastos in the film is a gay man with a family. A black, gay man with a family who shares a brief kiss with his husband before going to try and save the world he gave up on, to ensure the people he loves are safe. The backlash for a gay superhero on screen is something to behold and people stated they would boycott the film over that kiss or an openly gay man on screen.

People are blaming the film’s poor score on that and are proud to see it failing because of it, if that is the case. “Take that LGBT...” wait no, “Take that alphabet community! Ha you will never learn!”. How dare a filmmaker in a movie show anything that is outside our norm? It is almost like films are supposed to just be what we want and nothing else.

So let’s go to reality. Now imagine this; a gay man enlists to fight in a war to keep his family safe. Someone says, “You’re gay? Get out of here!”. No question about his motivations, skill set, beliefs and what he can bring to the fight. No LGBT people allowed, is all there is to it,is what it seems.

(Phastos is by far the most inventive and intelligent Eternal...who’s gay.)

The reality of this is that, it is not woke, not sjw, not a propaganda piece. It is instead a REAL and TRUE message, that LGBT people do go to war, much like Phastos to protect people they care for. What is even more fascinating is that his sexuality is not his entire character. Far from. Phastos is not a stereotype or caricature.

It is not a crutch that he is balanced upon. As a black man I was happy to see another black man being the intelligent, inventive and nurturing type who could still fight when needed.  And when I say he can fight, he can fight, it may not be like Thena or Ikaris but he holds his own quite well when that time comes.

(”A happy child and a gay father!!! Impossible!!!” - Some critic)

For some reason we live in a world that thinks that you should only show the traditional nuclear family or at least make sure any romance on screen is one between a biological man and biological woman. Anything else is forcing a message down our throat and it’s an effect of going woke. It’s pandering! So much so that a brief kiss and an exchange of words has people up in arms.

Now for those who take umbrage with the character because he is not comic book accurate, I understand and can see where that would tick anyone off. To that I have no rebuttal beyond it being an adaptation and that comics have multiple variations of characters such as a gay wolverine in one timeline. That is not an excuse on my part to quell, any rage you feel just an example of interpretations of a one character differing.

(Bryan Tyree Henry did a fantastic job in the adaptation.)

I have seen the Phastos in the comics and he is very much the genius as well as inventor but unlike the one in the film he is much more physically imposing. He is also very much straight in the comics. There are other differences such as the comic version having access to far more powers such as flight but the film version seemed to attempt to make each Eternal seem unique in their skillsets.

But the core differences to Comic and Film Phastos is that one is more muscular and straight and the other is not muscular and is gay. Both are still intelligent, inventive individuals intent in their pursuit for creating something amazing for those around them.

(Looking at some of the comments in disbelief.)

Phastos in the film is by far the smartest Eternal which if I was a black parent I would be proud to show my child. He is a clearly a good father with no example of abuse to his partner or his child, having them in what seems like a middle to upper middle class neighborhood.

He is simply, gay. Gay people exist. Not thanks to the media, not thanks to a hollywood agenda. Gay people have existed for centuries. One critic stated, “They already got you but now they are coming for us!” as if Wesley Snipes did not portray a Drag Queen in a movie when I was but a wee baby.

(This scene cut so deeply.)

So my question is then, is it that people are angered by the inclusion of a gay man or having to contend with confronting that inclusion? Having to see something they have been fed is negative can in fact be positive. Are they angered that it is a reserved portrayal so that he appears as a gay man who is not characterized by that.

Do such people want only straight people on tv, especially when it is a black man? Then my question is who is in the fantasy world? The characters or the people living in the bubble that says any representation of LGBT is bad?

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Panties

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1963

Content Warnings - lots of fluff, just a brief smidge of angst, my attempt at humor, relationships with the boys are open to interpretation 

Prompt/Inspiration - none

Summary - You return home to the House of Lamentation one day to find an absolute shit show waiting for you. 

AO3

As soon as you opened the door to the House of Lamentation, you could tell something wasn’t quite right. Raised voices could be heard filling the halls, but you were unable to quite make out what they were saying.

You followed the sound of the commotion to its source and were soon standing in the doorway to the library. All the brothers had gathered there and were too busy arguing to notice you.

There didn’t seem to be any sort of emergency. No one was bleeding at least.

But as your eyes scanned the room, they finally landed on a brightly colored bunch of fabric in Asmo’s hand that he was holding up for all to see.

You recognized it immediately.

It was your underwear.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You were mortified. What the hell could they possibly be discussing that involves your underwear in the middle of the afternoon?! Just as you were about to start tearing into them, you managed to catch some snippets of the conversation.

“OMG Mammon! You’re a panty snatcher! This is like a scene from an anime. I can’t believe this happens IRL.”

“I knew you were a pervert, but this is just depraved. Even for you.”

“Such a scumbag. Isn’t it enough to try and steal their things? Do you have to take their underwear too? Really?”

You shifted your attention to Mammon, who was standing at the front of the group, desperately trying to defend himself. His face was flushed, all the way down his neck. So intense was his blush, that even his tanned skin couldn’t conceal it. You don’t think you had possibly ever seen him so embarrassed as he stumbled over his words, and stuttered out excuses.

Well, this wasn’t going to do.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself, and plastered a wide smile on your face. As you made your approach, Mammon was the first to notice you. He snapped his mouth shut as all the color drained from his face. It was bad enough having his brothers yell at him. But now you were here. And he was utterly screwed. His mind started racing, struggling to figure out a way to explain this to you and still maintain your relationship. Before he could say anything though, Asmo spoke up.

“Oh! There you are dear. You’ll never guess what our pervert of a brother was up to.”

“What’s up?”, you asked, playing innocent.

“We caught him with your underwear! In his pocket!”, Levi explained.

“Oh. That.”

You reached for the underwear that Asmo was holding, and unfolded it to get a good look at it, making a show out of confirming it was yours.

“I gave those to him. So what’s the problem?”

You turned to Mammon and returned the clothing to his own hand, and he quickly shoved it back into his pocket. He gaped at you, completely bewildered by what he was witnessing and unable to form a single coherent thought. You looked into his eyes and gave him a soft smile, completely different from the fake one you had on earlier. He wasn’t sure what the hell was going on, but he felt his body relax. For now, he was just going to go with it.

When you returned your attention to the rest of the group, they were completely silent, staring at you in shock. Satan, you could tell was quickly figuring out what was going on, and had realized how badly he and his brothers had fucked up.

“It’s not like y’all haven’t taken any pairs yourself,” you said as one by one, you made eye contact with each of them before they looked away. Only Lucifer attempted to hold your gaze, and you knew that was just his pride refusing to let him look away since a light blush dusted his cheeks.

“HUH?!” Mammon sputtered out. He looked at his brothers and all of them were in various states of embarrassment, now refusing to look anywhere near him or you. He couldn’t believe this. He was used to them picking on him, but for them to be such blatant hypocrites? What. The. Hell.

Levi attempted to defend himself, “wh wh what are you talking about?”

You snapped your head in his direction, eyes laser focused on him, “Do I need to go into detail? Really Levi? Think carefully.” Your tone of voice had turned icy. Playtime was over now, and you were not in the mood to put up with their shit. If they were still going to deny it, you were going to add to their humiliation by revealing the details that you were certain they were unaware you knew.

Levi flinched and decided to keep quiet, shrinking in on himself and trying to hide behind Beel as subtly as possible. He didn’t know why or how, but he had the feeling you knew a lot more than you had said so far and he wasn’t eager to find out exactly how much that was.

“Y’all might think you’re pretty sneaky, but when 6 demons start periodically swiping individual pairs of your underwear it adds up pretty fast. At least Asmo had the decency to take me shopping occasionally, the same can’t be said for the rest of you.”

The brothers continued to stand there in silence. Satisfied that you had put an end to the shit show you had walked in on, you turned to Mammon once again, tugging at his hand, “C’mon we had stuff to do, remember?”

“Uh. Yeah. Right.” He had no idea what you were talking about honestly, but now didn’t seem like a good time to point that out to you. You continued holding his hand as you led him to your bedroom in silence. Frankly he was too scared to speak. And really, really confused. His brothers had been stealing your underwear? And you knew…? He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Once safely inside your room, with the door closed behind you and your book bag discarded on the floor, you flopped down onto your bed, and let out a groan. Mammon remained by the doorway, frozen in place as his thoughts started to catch up with him. Even if his brothers were a bunch of lying hypocrites, he still had stolen your underwear. That was a fact. He had been caught red handed and there was no denying it. Not that he was even tempted to try at this point after watching you and how you handled his brothers just now.

What were you going to say to him? Should he just start begging for forgiveness now? Or should he wait for you to speak first? Would you even accept his apology? He was so disgusted with himself. I really am a scumbag, aren’t I? he thought. He was certain you were not going to want anything to do with him after this. He had violated your trust. Never before had he felt guilty about stealing something, but he honestly would have given anything to go back in time and not make the same mistake twice.

“....mmon. Mammon? You okay?”

He looked up to find you right next to him, calling his name and peering into his face with concern. Why were you still so worried about him? Even after knowing what he had done?

“S’rry,” was all he could manage, looking away again.

“Sorry? Oh about the underwear?”, you laughed and took one of his hands in your own, lacing your fingers together, “It’s fine, honest. I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” He looked at you, lost and confused. Why had you been so mad then?

“No, I don’t. I only got pissed earlier because everyone was ganging up on you when they were just as guilty themselves. Well, guiltier, if I’m being honest.”

You were smiling at him, with such a gentle look in your eyes. There was no trace of the anger from earlier on your face. You were telling the truth. And as he stared at you, a thought occurred to him.

“Guiltier? Whaddya mean?”

You laughed loudly at his question, before smirking and asking him, “Do you really want to know?”

He gave you an eager nod and you pulled him to your bed, before crawling in and curling up next to him as he joined you. Usually he was the one holding you when you cuddled during movie nights, or whenever else. But today you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, and he rested his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair. With your free hand you once again reached for his and laced your fingers together.

“Well, Asmo I know has taken several pair. But like I said downstairs, he takes me shopping often and replaces them regularly. He’s probably the only reason I still have any underwear left at all.

Belphie has a couple different pairs that he keeps stashed under the pillows on his bed and in the attic. I try not to think about what he does with them while sleeping.

Beel actually doesn’t have any in his possession...but he has eaten them once or twice. To his credit, I’m pretty sure those were accidents.

Levi, poor guy, actually has a small shrine hidden in his closet behind his one for Ruri-chan. Now that was fun to discover. I’m pretty sure he’d spontaneously combust if I ever mentioned it to him directly,” you laughed at the thought of your precious otaku realizing you knew about his little homage to you. I should probably go check on him later, you thought, he was almost as sensitive as Mammon when it came to being embarrassed.

You felt Mammon laughing as well, and planted a small kiss to the top of his head before continuing.

“So that leaves Satan and Lucifer.

Satan only has one pair that he keeps hidden in a book that he stores under his mattress. I guess he figured I’d never find it there, but the hard lump is pretty obvious when you sit on his bed.

And finally, Lucifer. Dear, sweet Lucifer,” you couldn’t help but laugh as you thought about all the things he had done, unbeknownst to you as far as he was concerned, “Lucifer is the worst offender of them all. There’s a reason he hardly lets anyone into his private study.”

Mammon lifted his head to look at you, and his eyes were sparkling like he had just discovered the best kept secret, “Really? Lucy? He did that?”

You laughed again and continued, “Yeah, I made the mistake of browsing through his books in there while waiting for him once. Never again. I only bring my own books to read now.”

You resumed playing with Manmon’s hair as he settled back down, chuckling at the thought of his brother having a secret panty stash hidden within the bookshelves in his study. He’d have to check this out for himself one day. Just to verify it, ya know. Not because he wanted to steal another pair for himself or anything.

“Anyways, that’s why I’m not mad at you. You were actually the last one to take something from me, and judging by what I saw earlier, it only happened yesterday,” Mammon froze. He had forgotten about what had gotten him into this situation in the first place. And he certainly didn’t expect you to be able to tell what day he had taken them. Though, it shouldn’t have surprised him since the underwear featured a pretty distinct pattern.

“Can you do me a favor though?”

“Hmm?” Mammon hummed in response. He would do anything for you.

“Take me shopping later and help me pick out some new ones?”

[luckycheesefoodie321]

A FEW THINGS FROM A WHOLE CHUNK OF DAIYA NO A (Diamond no Ace) ch 247-252

IM SORRY DID SOMEONE ORDER SOME MOCHI-MIYUKI ACTION (not pictured is the maddest lad to ever baseball, my true love Shirasu (´༎ຶོρ༎ຶོ`) )

They really did that to me huh

THEY PLAYED TETSU’S WALK UP SONG FOR OUR BOI MIYUKI BC THEYRE NOW EQUAL POWERHOUSES AND THE SHIVERS THAT WENT DOWN MY SPINE LOOK HOW FUCKING HYPED TETSU IS JUST FROM HEARING HIS SONG AND KNOWING ITS BEING PLAYED FOR THE GUY HE PERSONALLY VOUCHED FOR TO BE CAPTAIN, AND LOOK AT MIYUKI BEING SO FUCKING HONOURED THAT THEY WOULD PLAY HIS CAPTAIN’S SONG FOR HIM I CANNOT I ADORE THIS, THIS IS MY EVERYTHING

AND NOW THE MIYUSAWA

What’s this? SAWAMURA teasing Miyuki from afar but really he’s just conveying how much he believes in him and chooses to warm up his arm bc he knows Miyuki’s not gonna let this end here and wants to also be visible and cheering him on?

MIYUKI CALLING SAWA HIS PARTNER?!?!

Him knowing that Sawa’s been the one holding down the fort with his pitching and now it’s on him as the captain, clean-up and his catcher to get the team ahead and hit that damn pitch like he promised Sawa before...

AND THEN WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS

Excuse me?!

EXCUSE ME

LOOK AT MIYUKI TURNING TO SAWA AND THEM BOTH HAVING A MOMENT WHERE MIYUKI HAS FULFILLED HIS PROMISE AND SAWA IS SAYING HES ALWAYS BELIEVED IN HIM AND THEYRE JUST SMILING AT EACH OTHER AND THEN SAWA, COMPLETELY SATISFIED, TURNS AROUND AND HYPES UP MIYUKI TO THE CROWD

Look I’m not ordinarily this crazy a MiyuSawa shipper... I’ve come to appreciate the ship bc I love the friendship and genuine partnership Miyuki and Sawa have formed, and how much it has evolved over time... but they’re just straight up shoving it in our faces this past lil bit huh? Like fuckin how else am I supposed to interpret this except as a super intimate moment of recognition between two close partners?!?!?! BUT GAYER.

Anyway I was in my feelings about all this so thanks!

[johnconstantinesdick]

Okay *cracks knuckles, accidentally dislocates fingers* @agentscamander-romanoff and @steel-phoenix took the bait and enabled me by asking me to elaborate on my Children of the Watch origins theory. Which means I am about to go ABSOLUTELY feral.

Apologies to anyone for having incorrect Star Wars lore, I’ve barely consumed canon content and I don’t intend to start now. Also sorry if anyone has already said this! I’ve never seen this particular theory/interpretation and it’s made me go a bit insane.

Warnings: discussion of child abuse, cults, and the aftermath of genocide. I don’t go super in depth on any of it but it’s there. Also, I typed this in the notes app of my phone and autocorrect hasn’t quite submitted to some of these names.

SO. I’m going to break this up into sections. 1. Exploring canon 2. Extrapolations/Connecting the red string 3. What does this MEAN??? 4. Complaining about Bo-Katan.

First off, though, here’s my thesis: Children of the Watch is a “splinter group” made up of the children that Death Watch stole, indoctrinated, and abused. They’re also not a cult (Death Watch is though lmao).

1. Exploring Canon:

Okay, so. Canonically, Death Watch has abducted, tortured, and brainwashed children. Arla Fett is an example of that, having been abducted at the age of 14 after her parents were killed and she was subsequently brainwashed into becoming an assassin for Death Watch. She didn’t even hesitate when she found out her brother was alive! That’s how strong the conditioning was! She was so fucked up from it that she spent YEARS in a mental facility, and she outright begged a Jedi to wipe her memories in exchange for a favor. DEATH WATCH DID THAT. And you CANNOT tell me she was the only one they’ve done this to. PLENTY of fic writers have extrapolated off of this and mentioned it, but it’s important to me that everyone know this shit is absolutely rooted in canon.

Another Death Watch Child Abuse Fun Fact: Dred Priest and Isabet Reau, two of the trainers of the clones, canonically had Death Watch leanings and tried to instill Death Watch beliefs in the clones by FORCING THEM TO FIGHT EACH OTHER IN SECRET BATTLE CIRCLES THAT ENDED UP KILLING SOME OF THE CLONES. THEY WERE CHILDREN AT THE TIME, IF IT WASN’T CLEAR. WHAT THE FUCK. If THAT’S not an example of Death Watch abusing the kids under their care then I don’t know what is. It’s suuper not a stretch for me to think that this wasn’t an unheard of thing in more official Death Watch circles.

Also canonically, Bo-Katan has referred to Din’s covert as “Children of the Watch”, and Din, despite obviously being an important and respected member of his community, doesn’t recognize the name, which implies to me that it’s not a name the covert chose for themselves. Rather, a moniker that was given to them after they splintered off of Death Watch. Since this isn’t an opinion and it’s more just… information, I’ll trust Bo-Katan on this one.

We also know for sure that Din’s covert IS connected to Death Watch in some way, seeing as the flashback sequence very clearly shows Mandalorians in blue and gray beskar’gam, the colors of Death Watch. HOWEVER… the Armorer, who seems to hold a high position of authority in the covert, wears gold and copper beskar’gam. Din wears unpainted (v2) or mismatched colored (v1) beskar’gam (I do grant that his paint color counts less towards this because he’s pretty much one of the only people interacting with the outside world and so colors associated with Death Watch are probably a no go no matter what). Paz Vizsla’s armor is a very dark blue with yellow and cyan details and, oh my fucking god I didn’t even know this but he has a fucking MYTHOSAUR SYMBOL ON ONE OF HIS PAULDRONS. THE FUCK???? THAT’S LITERALLY THE SYMBOL OF THE TRUE MANDALORIANS IM. Ok. Okay. I needed a minute. Like I KNOW that the mythosaur skull is Mandalorian symbol in general but I think it just hits different when a Vizsla is wearing it, you know? Especially because the placement is the same as Jaster Mereel’s???? Literal founder of the True Mandalorian movement????? Excuse me???????

Let’s uh. Let’s get back to armor. I can address that… later. So. Anyway. Armor is super important, and it’s uhhh very telling that the covert doesn’t emulate the Death Watch colorscheme strictly. Like, yeah, there’s gray and light blue in there, if you go through some wiki pages, but they’re not the only colors they use, and the Armorer doesn’t even have either of those colors! And she’s the biggest authority we’ve seen! Very fucking interesting!! Bo-Katan still has her armor painted in Death Watch colors! And yet she’s derisive of Din’s covert! Verrry interesting!

We also know that Din’s covert emphasizes children VERY much, more than Death Watch ever would have, imo. It’s expected for the adult members to provide for the foundlings (and it’s VERY interesting that the kids are seemingly all referred to as foundlings iirc. More on that later.), and even though Paz disagrees with Din working with the empire, he and the other members of the covert immediately and with no hesitation come to Din’s aid for this child that Din hasn’t even claimed as his own—it’s amazing! And I will note that Bo-Katan and her warriors do the same upon their initial meeting with Din—Koska dives into danger with no hesitation as soon as Din says the child is still in danger. We see that this solidarity does come at a price for Bo-Katan, though, while the Armorer sees protecting a foundling as a duty that is completely worth all the trouble it brought.

Fascinating also that Boba was 100% on board to help out Din to save Grogu past what Din or anyone else would have expected of him, while Bo-Katan had to be bribed into coming by the promise of Moff Gideon and the darksaber. And she thinks she’s somehow more Mandalorian than him.

And NOW, going way back in time to the beginnings of the True Mandalorian movement, we know that Jaster Mereel originally authored his Supercommando Codex by looking back through history to the Canons of Honor and the Resol’nare, and he took those ideals and ideas and he modernized them to create a set of moral guidelines to follow. And people loved that shit! Death Watch had to infiltrate the True Mandalorians and then trick the Jedi into slaughtering them just to get rid of them, because Jaster’s charisma and his sexy sexy morals were too strong. (God. I fucking LOVE Jaster Mereel if you couldn’t tell.) Anyway, there’s precedent for Mandalorians looking back to their history to bring forth old ideas, repurposed to a modern context. We also know that, canonically, Din’s covert follow the “old ways” of not sharing names and of never taking their helmets off in front of others.

Moving on.

2. Extrapolations/Connecting the red string:

So if we extrapolate from the fact that Death Watch are, uh, super fucking abusive towards the kids that they stole/their own kids, then we’re left with… this group of kids, who have been mistreated and indoctrinated for a LONG TIME, and possibly don’t have that great an understanding of non-toxic Mandalorian culture. And if they’ve been abducted or rescued, whatever, they might not fit back in with the places they were taken from, or they may not have a place to go back to, or they may not even remember where they’re from originally. It’s some prime angst material! Good stuff.

And if we pull the implication from the names that “Children of the Watch” is a splinter group off of Death Watch, it really does make you think… huh, you know what? These two things may be one in the same. Maybe.

And, like, we know that Jaster Mereel and Din’s covert both looked to Mandalorian history to find pillars for their community’s morals. Jaster did so in the middle of a lot of political turmoil, as a way to say “Hey, we can still be Mandalorians in the ways that matter, but being Mandalorian doesn’t mean being a morally bankrupt conqueror. We can have honor and still wear armor and fight and uphold the Resol’nare.”

And I think Din’s covert did so when they were struggling with unlearning the toxic ideals that had been shoved onto them by Death Watch. I think they had to figure out their own way of being Mandalorian or else they would have crumpled under the pressure. And so they looked back to the old ways and picked out the more extreme interpretation of Cin Vhetin (clean slate) which says that, once you swear the Resol’nare and become a Mandalorian, your past doesn’t matter, it’s what you do now that does. You don’t take off your helmet, and you don’t let others know your name, because those things don’t matter to who you are and what you do. (There’s also the issue of the helmet and name rule being an important defense tactic to protect the covert, seeing as how Mandalorians post-Empire are the survivors of genocide. There’s already a fantastic post on it here)

Related, another Mandalorian saying is “Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori'wadaas'la.”, meaning “Nobody cares who your parent was, only the parent you’ll be,” which IMO fits in very nicely with how I’m interpreting Din’s covert. It’s all about your actions and future mattering more than your past. I think that when the covert was splitting off and being built, this would be a huge component of them healing. Because the way they were treated and indoctrinated by Death Watch doesn’t have to affect their future actions. They don’t have to perpetuate the cycle of abuse, they can build a covert and a community around caring for foundlings.

Now, onto the foundlings! I find it very interesting that, whenever the covert’s younglings are mentioned, it’s always as foundlings. I think this implies that there’s a focus on saving and raising children more than there is on sharing blood with them, and I think that the covert would be more inclined towards communal raising than typical family units, if only to keep everyone in check and to protect the children from ever being treated as they were. I also find it VERY interesting that there’s a lot of emphasis put on returning children to their own kind. I don’t think Death Watch would have employed that practice, and I think that’s another example of the covert wanting to make their community a better place for children. I think it’s likely a lot of them didn’t get that choice, and they had to leave their cultures and people behind. And so they want to give that choice to their children.

I think it’s also amazing that, like. They keep finding and raising children instead of deciding they’re too damaged or whatever to have kids. Because it doesn’t matter if they have baggage or trauma when a child needs them. That’s FANTASTIC. I’m losing my MIND. It really doesn’t matter who their parents were to them, just the kind of parents they will be. It’s all about breaking that cycle and deciding to be better and I LOVE THAT.

3. What does this MEAN???:

Well. What this means is that Din’s covert has a very clear set of motivations and structure when it comes to how their covert is run. It’s not a cult; in fact it is specifically a group created by cult survivors who are determined to not do to others what was done to them. The rules may seem weird and strict at first glance, but they have a clear purpose and rationale, and no one is trying to amass power. They’re just… trying to do better, and be better.

(This also means that I’m 99% sure that, with the assistance of time travel, at least half of the covert would be SUPER INTO Jaster Mereel. I like to imagine that Paz had, like, a poster of him on his little sewer bedroom wall. I fully believe he painted that mythosaur skull on his pauldron in honor of a good man who was killed by Paz’s own relatives for standing by his morals and daring to try to reform and rally Mandalorians. I also think it would be funny if, like, Din doesn’t know shit about ANYTHING to do with modern history, but Boba mentions that his grandfather is Jaster Mereel and Din is like “OH I KNOW THAT GUY! Yeah he’s cool, he’s the historical crush of like, my entire covert.” And Boba is like. What.)

It also means that it can be up in the air about whether Din was found by Death Watch before his covert splintered off, or if his covert was still just wearing Death Watch colors when he was found. Fun thing to play around with, but right now I don’t want a solid timeline.

Hmm just thought I should add: while the Armorer does seem to have a position of authority, I don’t think the covert can be structured politically with clans and houses like other Mandalorian groups. Like, clan just means family in this context, and is less a part of hierarchy, and I don’t think they would even recognize houses within the covert? Like they MIGHT decide to call themselves part of House Djarin now that Din is Mand’alor, but before that they weren’t like. House Vizsla with Paz as the leader just because they used to be Death Watch. I don’t vibe with that. This isn’t really super relevant, I just wanted to add it.

4. Complaining about Bo-Katan:

Anyway Bo-Katan is absolutely full of shit and it’s doubly disgusting that she’s standing there in Death Watch armor, seemingly still allied to this fucking cult of imperialism and conquest, and she accuses Din of being in a regressive cult, and she implies that the way he engages with the Resol’nare is wrong and like. Repressed or something. God I hate Bo-Katan. But I love to hate her. She’s horrible but I want her to be included in the list of Din’s friends but not the list of people he’d trust his kid with. I have contradictory Bo-Katan feelings, whatever. The most important thing is that all of her opinions are horrible, like, all the time. And we shouldn’t trust her when she says Din’s part of a cult. Literally why does anyone take that at face value. If we’re taking her word as the authority on Mandalorian issues then I guess Boba and Jango aren’t Mandalorian!!! Seriously.

TLDR; Din’s covert (aka “Children of the Watch”) is made up of survivors of childhood abuse, torture, and brainwashing at the hands of Death Watch, and they’re dedicated to making sure their children don’t go through the same thing. They’re not a cult, but Death Watch sure was! Jaster Mereel is the love of my very aromantic life and Bo-Katan’s opinions can’t be trusted. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[theghostofashton]

hey , when you are free ( only when you're feeling good , i don't want to burden you since you're already in the middle of writing another fic ) can you do a short fic on your interpretation of how both kurt and blaine decided they needed help and went to therapy and how it all played out leading upto s6 where we see them.

you sent me this so long ago and i'm so sorry it took forever. i decided to kind of write two fics? writing kurt and blaine's individual processes felt more natural as separate fics, because they are both in very different places. they got kind of long (i am so sorry - i cannot shut up to save my life lmfao) so i didn't go into the actual therapy sessions, but i can definitely write follow ups that do, if you want!

pretty heavy trigger warnings for depression in both of these. keep that in mind before reading.

i hope you enjoy :)

Blaine is numb.

He doesn’t feel anything. He doesn’t want to feel anything. Everything’s hurt for far longer than he’s been able to bear. It’s finally starting to fade into a slow, steady ache, dull at the edges and no longer as painful, and for that, he is relieved. It’s the kind of hurt that he can tolerate, the kind that just blends into the background, a low buzz that just remains constant.

He just wants to lay here forever. Maybe until the world ends, or his body decomposes, whichever comes first.

It all happened so quickly. Sometimes it feels like someone took a sledgehammer to his life and left it in thousands of tiny pieces. He’s sitting amongst the wreckage, unsure of where to even begin rebuilding. Part of him isn’t sure it’s entirely possible to put back together the smithereens of everything he thought he knew.

The rest of him just doesn’t understand how things got to this point. He doesn’t understand how it happened, how he went from daydreams and decisions about wedding menus, to trying to soften the lump in his throat long enough to deal the last blow. I will never forgive you. I won’t.

I will never forgive you for this.

In the moment, it was all he could do. All of the strength he could summon had been poured into those seven words. He wanted them to hurt, to sting Kurt the way Kurt had stung him, icy hot and merciless. He wanted Kurt to know that it would take more. He wasn’t that easily breakable – at least, not on the outside. He would have the last word, and he would tell it like it was.

He doesn’t know how he could ever forgive Kurt for this.

More important than Kurt, Blaine doesn’t know how he’ll ever forgive himself for the series of bad decisions the past couple of months have dissolved into. Day after day spent in bed, tear tracks drying on his face as he stared at nothing on his walls and tried to keep conscious for a respectable amount of time. He knew it wasn’t a good thing to be sleeping for more hours out of the day than he was awake, but he couldn’t find the energy to do anything else.

Kurt had left.

He was gone.

And Blaine, as much as he tried to fight it, was broken by him. He was broken by the realization that he had put so much of his happiness, so much of himself into his relationship with Kurt and his future wedding, that, now that it had been yanked away, he didn’t know what to do with himself. He didn’t know anything, anymore. His life no longer looked anything like he had envisioned it turning out, and he was forced to live with that. There wasn’t anything he could do.

Kurt doesn’t want him anymore.

There isn’tanything he can do about that.

A part of him isn’t too surprised, if he’s really honest with himself. Things have been different for a while. He’s been scared for a while.

His gut could tell something bad was coming. It was obvious, in the way Kurt moved around the apartment, in the lines of his body in bed at night, the way he was perpetually tensed, stiff with everything he was holding in. Maybe he’d wanted to break up sooner, but held back to preserve Blaine’s feelings.

Blaine isn’t stupid. He knows that that night at the restaurant wasn’t planned. He pushed just the right amount for Kurt to finally blurt out the thing that had had a hold on him. For how long, Blaine isn’t sure, but he knows it had to have been longer than the length of time he kept Kurt waiting at that table.

At least, that’s what he keeps trying to tell himself.

Because the alternative, the biting realization that Kurt hadn’t intended to break up with him, that it just slipped out, something so impulsive yet so final, is too much for Blaine. He doesn’t want it to be true. That isn’t the Kurt he knows. None of this makes sense, but that…that Kurt made the decision to end their relationship, their engagement, so quickly and easily, is too much for him to take.

It was his biggest fear. The thing he kept convincing himself would never happen. Kurt loves you. He always will. He told you he will. He’s not going to leave you. He loves you.

Kurt said he loved him. He said it back, in a moment that Blaine was sure he wouldn’t. But did he? Did he really? The way Blaine sees it, loving someone means fighting for them. Choosing them. Working through the hard things with them.

And Blaine doesn’t know why. He can’t ask. He can only guess. Spend some of these painful hours of consciousness contemplating exactly why he wasn’t good enough for Kurt to stay with. Because the Kurt Hummel he knows is the strongest, toughest fighter he’s ever met. Things had to be dire for him to not even make the effort.

Kurt had finally figured it out. What made him so intolerable, so exhausting to be around. He had realized what he was getting himself into and made a break for it before things could go any deeper. Blaine supposes that is for the best. Get out now, before the papers are signed and things are officially official, before it is much harder to make the break for it.

This is what he’s been scared of, been terrified of, since he and Kurt got back together. And he tried to push it to the back of his mind, because Kurt said yes and invited him to New York and promised to make it safe when he fell. Kurt promised to be there for everything, promised that they belongedto each other, promised that he would never stop loving him.

Blaine wonders when he did.

He wonders when all of this fell apart, how blissfully ignorant and idiotic he must have been not to see it.

How long was Kurt planning to do this? How long was he thinking about it? How long did he keep this to himself, wake up next to Blaine and kiss him goodbye every morning, knowing he was holding onto to the mother of secrets that had the power to destroy everything? Why did he get to be the one making that unilateral decision about their relationship?

Kurt controlled whether they got engaged or not, and Kurt controlled how it ended.

It was all up to him.

Blaine just had to hope they were on the same page about everything, and now it’s clear that they weren’t.

He’s so tired of other people getting to make decisions about his life, and leaving him to deal with the wreckage of their choices. He’s tired of not having any control. He doesn’t know how he ended up here. His life doesn’t feel like his anymore.

Madame Tibideaux had decided that he wasn’t worthy of another year at NYADA, that his emotions weren’t a good enough excuse for the quality - or lack thereof - of his work. It didn’t matter what he was feeling, or how bad it hurt. It didn’t matter that he wasn’t like every other person who could channel their pain into their art. It didn’t matter that he’d been doing it for as long as he could remember, feeling through every lyric he sang, every performance he gave. The cup had to dry up eventually. Something had to happen that was too bad, too painful, for him to sing his way out of. It wasn’t his fault. He’d tried so hard, given everything he could.

It didn’t matter that he desperately, desperately needed someone to see him. Not the things he produced, not the contributions he would make to a performance, him. His real self. The part that no one seemed to want.

It didn’t matter that Blaine Warbler felt like a lie he’d forgotten how to live years ago. He remembers grappling for it, trying to tug on the same mask he’d donned after the Sadie Hawkins dance, turn off his emotions and shift into autopilot, sing and dance and perform like he didn’t wish he could stop existing in that moment.

None of it mattered.

Blaine was just not good enough for NYADA, like he was not good enough for Kurt. He should’ve realized it sooner. It’s his own fault he didn’t.

“Honey?”

Blaine startles at the voice, jolting upward in bed and blinking rapidly against the sunlight pouring into his room. “Huh?”

“I brought you a little something to eat.” His mom sets a plate of buttered toast and a glass of water on his nightstand, and then leans down to drop a kiss against his head. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. He doesn’t want to lie to her. “Tired, I guess.”

“Sam called the house again,” she says. She takes a seat on the edge of his bed and reaches out to brush a hand through his hair. “He left a message, said you haven’t been picking up your cell. He’s worried, Blaine. I’m sure Tina is too.”

Blaine winces, dropping his gaze down to his blankets. Just one more thing you’re sucking at lately.

He hasn’t called Sam or Tina since he got back to Lima. At first, he was too ashamed to tell them the truth, although he knows that Sam is probably aware of what happened. Kurt and Mercedes talk, and even though Sam isn’t with her anymore, he knows that he and Mercedes are still very close. Sam’s been blowing up his phone for weeks. He sent a perfunctory, “back home for a while, but going to be really busy for a while” text, so Sam wouldn’t assume he was ignoring him, but he’s sure Sam has long figured out it was a lie.

“You don’t have to call him back until you’re ready,” his mom tells him. “But I do think he’d love to hear from you, baby. He could come over and keep you company, play some video games, you could-”

“No,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I don’t want him to come over.”

“Why not?”

I just don’t,” he manages. I don’t want him to see me like this.

I don’t want him to be mad at Kurt.

I don’t even know if I want to be mad at Kurt anymore. All of this is just so exhausting.

“Have you given any more thought to what we talked about a while ago?”

Blaine snaps his head up to meet her eyes. “You- no, mom. I’m fine, I promise. I just need a couple more days to…” He trails off with a sigh. To what? Wallow in his sadness? Sleep away and accomplish nothing? He hasn’t been the slightest bit productive since he left New York. It feels like he used up all his energy packing up and moving home.

That was over a month ago, and he still hasn’t recovered from it.

“It’s not really a matter of being fine, sweetheart. You know that. I just think talking about it might-”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” He snaps. And then he watches her face shift and crumples, lump in his throat throbbing as he squeezes his eyes shut. “I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

A pair of hands reaches for him, and he lets himself go, lets her pull him into a hug and buries his face in the crook of her neck. He takes a deep breath, and then another, hot tears burning at his eyes.

He doesn’t want to cry anymore. He feels like he’s done nothing but cry about this. He doesn’t know how he still has tears left.

“I know,” she murmurs, rubbing his back. “And I know you don’t think it’ll help. But you might be surprised, Blaine. I just think you should give it a chance. Get yourself back on your feet and feeling a little better, hm?”

She presses another kiss to the top of his head and props him back against his pillows. “You don’t have to make a decision right now. Just think about it, okay?”

“Okay,” he chokes out.

“I’m just going to be downstairs doing some work. Let me know if you want another piece of toast, all right?”

At his nod, she makes her way out of his room, and Blaine slumps back against his headboard, still fighting tears.

She’s probably right. It would help, far more than it would hurt. His mom has been a proponent of him seeing someone ever since Sadie Hawkins. He insisted he’d be okay then, and, seeing his distress, she didn’t push too hard for it. He knows she regrets that now, knows she blames herself for things getting as bad as they have. If he had gone, back then, maybe they would’ve been able to address some of this before it turned so bad.

But talking means talking about everything. About the dance, and meeting Kurt, and it going from so good to so bad, in such a short amount of time. It means talking about the things he hoped would stay buried, the ways in which he and Kurt were not perfect, his tendency to latch onto things and cling to them, tighter than he probably should have.

He isn’t sure he’s ready to think about more than how angry he is, or how much this hurts. He isn’t sure he’s ready to move out of this stage of staying in bed and not facing the world, holing up in his childhood bedroom and not confronting the life that he feels like he put on pause a month ago. He knows things are different now. He just isn’t sure he’s ready to see how much everything’s changed.

He doesn’t feel like he’s ready to move past all of this, but he knows he needs to.

He knows he needs to leave all of this behind, to start talking about it and thinking about it and rebuilding the pieces of his mess of a life. Otherwise, he’s destined to feel like this forever.

And that scares him even more.

---

Kurt is exhausted.

And if he’s really honest with himself, he’s felt this tiredness for a while now, become so accustomed to it that it feels like he’s leeched it into part of his personality, taken on the ache in his chest and the heaviness of his bones like a jacket with rocks in the pockets, weighing him down with every step he tries to take.

It’s the kind of tired that feels consuming, quicksand that swallows him the more he tries to get out of it. The kind that makes him feel like he’s running on empty, with no sign of a gas station for miles, the kind of tired that makes every day, every action, every conversation, feel like too much.

Part of him thought that this would stop once he ended things with Blaine. He didn’t want to go there. He never wanted to believe that Blaine could be the reason for all of this. How could the person that made him feel so, so loved and safe on his worst days also be the person that made him feel like this? It just didn’t make sense.

It never felt true, but the thought continued to linger, and with every passing day, ate more and more away at him. He tried not to spend too much time in that place. It hurt too much to think about until he was blurting out the words he didn’t even plan on saying.

And then, everything changed.

The breath it allowed him to take, the exhale, didn’t last long. Instead, he’s left with the image of Blaine’s crumpled, heartbroken expression every time he closes his eyes, the I will never forgive you for this playing on loop in his head every time he tries to think about what it could mean going forward.

That was it.

He ruined it.

He drove Blaine away for good.

Kurt remembers the day it happened so clearly. Getting home after a long day of classes, worn out and ravenous, only to be greeted by Blaine’s key to the loft sitting on the kitchen table. He’d sent Kurt a text that had far too many periods and was capitalized in all the right places – which, Blaine usually tended to do, but never in his life had Kurt read a message from him that felt so stiff and robotic and formal – about the rest of his portion of rent and bills for the month.

Blaine was gone.

Really, really gone.

And Kurt was alone, feeling further and further away from the people that loved him with each passing day.

In the beginning, he thought that was what he needed. Time away. A chance to be by himself and reevaluate the decisions he’d made over the past year. Crunch the numbers and figure out if Blaine remained in the equation by the end. He just wanted to be certain, be sure, that he wasn’t opening himself up to be hurt again. He wasn’t sure he could take it one more time, give his heart back to Blaine only to have it dropped, shattered like a stone.

He just wanted to feel safe.

He wanted to be sure of it, sure that he could let his heart go, run wild and free like it did in the common room, racing toward the boy with the beautiful voice who had held his hand and made him feel seen for the first time in his life. He wanted it to feel like that again. Untethered, too strong to control, defying each doubt with that wave of invincibility. So pure and open, expansive with all of the potential, broken parts shaved off to make room for the newness.

Maybe he just wasn’t meant to have that with Blaine, he’d thought. Maybe Blaine was supposed to be a bridge that helped him on the road to finding that. Maybe he’d meet someone else that would make him feel like Blaine first had, someone else that would make him feel weightless.

He tries to just go for it, to let it happen, but it never does. It never feels right, never the kind of right that it felt with Blaine. He lets Elliott set him up with friends that the other deems perfect, just your type, and feels nothing.

He tries speed dating, and starts getting more serious about Tindr. He matches with a few guys, goes on a couple of dates, flirts and reciprocates and tries, to let himself fall headfirst. It’s fun. Every date is a good time. They’re warm and light and exploding with newness. But the sparks die out after the first twenty minutes and then Kurt finds himself back in his head, thinking about hair gel and bowties and nonfat mochas, intertwined hands and the insides of coffee shops, the way it all felt like the safest home he’s ever known.

And he hates it, he hates that he feels nothing. He hates that his heart belongs to the hair gel and the bowties, because he fucked that up. He ruined that.

Kurt goes to class, goes to work, and comes home. Sometimes he sees Elliott, and sometimes he stays past his shift to chat with Artie at the diner, but otherwise, he spends every day the same. Sitting and staring through shows on TV, shoving spoonful after spoonful of ice cream in his mouth, and trying desperately to turn his brain off. Trying desperately not to wade into the murky waters of every moment that led up to that night.

I will never forgive you for this.

The realization slaps him in the face.

He’s trying to move on, and then he’s crying in public, humiliating himself in front of a perfectly good Tindr match, overcome with the sheer magnitude of the words that came out of his mouth so many months ago. It hadn’t hit him until then, how insistent, how cruel he had been in the moment. How he had the power to turn Blaine from light and warm and excited, to completely and utterly broken, in the span of a single conversation.

He did that.

And sure, it wasn’t just about toothpaste and towels and Blaine’s newfound habit of tardiness, sure, there was so much painful and deep and wrong underneath the surface. Sure, Kurt had had doubts ever since the car ride and the non-surprise of a proposal, sure, it would have come to the light sooner or later, sure, he was just speeding up the process.

But never in his life has he been so disgusted in himself. Never in his life has he gone back over a moment so many times in his head, wished he could turn back time and that 20/20 happened before hindsight and that he could see the future of misery he’d end up in and not decide to ruin the best thing that had ever happened to him.

They could’ve talked about it. Blaine is one of the most understanding people Kurt has ever met. He would’ve absolutely been open to something like that. One of Kurt’s favorite things about him is that kindness, that space for grace he is able to hold for others.

Talk to me. Tell me you’re unhappy.

We’ve been putting this off for far too long.

Don’t you think we should have the talk?

Wait, Kurt, let’s talk about this.

Blaine always wanted to talk. It was how he felt safe, Kurt is realizing. Blaine wanted the words, the vocalization that everything was okay in that real and concrete way. It was how he grounded himself.

Kurt’s never been one for talking. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, locked up tight. He knows they’re not what people want to hear. They’re messy, and don’t always make sense. Sometimes they feel like the worst parts of him all bundled up into one, complete with pieces of him that haven’t fully left the horrors of high school behind.

Talking about them is effort he doesn’t have to exert. He’ll be opening Pandora’s box with no way to contain the contents. He doesn’t necessarily want to know how the people in his life feel about him. He doesn’t want to hear what they have to say. It scares him too much. There’s just no reason to ruin a perfectly good foundation by having conversations that uncover all of the cracks.

No, it’s better to drop a bomb on the entire thing and destroy it in one fell swoop.

He sometimes feels like he’d fallen asleep after Finn died and is only now being wrenched out of his nightmare, waking into a world that is far different than when he left it. Everything’s been on pause for so long. Hitting play feels like coming back to a reality he barely recognizes. A person he barely recognizes.

He hadn’t realized how much he didn’t like himself until there was nothing to distract from it. And maybe it isn’t his entire self, per say, but who he’s turned into. The person that’s been morphed together after the tiring, tumultuous year they’d all had. The stress, the anxiety, the exhaustion, personified. Even the littlest things – the tiny, stupid, don’t matter in the grand scheme of it, things – make him angry.

He’s been living on fumes for too long and everything feels like it’s at a breaking point. He’s trying to hold on to the reins, but they’re slipping out of his hands too quickly and he’s too tired to keep running to catch up. His life feels like it’s unraveling and it scares him, because he has never been this person. He has never been unable to keep going, unable to push through, to carry on, put all his stock into the rainbow on the other side and his nose down until he reaches it.

But everything that’s happened in the past few years, high school, and Karofsky, and all the little things he let go, all the things he said were okay and tried to move past and eventually decided didn’t mean anything anymore, never truly went away. They laid dormant for a while, so much so that he’d just about forgotten about them, until they decided to come back with a vengeance. Like he’s being reminded of how messed up his life is, because for once, hewas the one to cause it.

He’s spent so long being too gay, or too fragile, or too feminine, to get the things that he really wants. There’s always been something he couldn’t control, something inherently wrong with him, which keeps him from getting anything on the first try. It always takes extra work, extra effort, the need to prove that he does deserve it and has earned the role, or the solo, or the opportunity that is almost inevitably given up to someone else.

Maybe a small part of him thought that Blaine would be like that too.

The proposal wouldn’t be enough to propel them into a lifetime of happiness.

It couldn’t be that easy.

He wouldn’t get to be that happy.

There is so much wrong with him. Kurt knows that. He knows he can be bitchy, sometimes cold, often not someone that’s easy to get close to. He knows he has a tendency to hold everything in until he reaches a breaking point and lashes out.

He knows he’s angry. He knows he’s in pain.

And he knows Blaine didn’t need to see any of it, didn’t deserve any of it. Blaine was too good, too warm, too unimaginably kind, to deserve these parts of him. He didn’t want their relationship to turn into it, go sour and stunted until Blaine began to resent him.

Blaine loved him anyway. In spite of everything. Blaine’s capacity for love was so massive and unlimited, and Kurt couldn’t understand it. Blaine wanted to work on things, always, and Kurt didn’t understand that, either. He’s spent his entire life trying desperately to be okay, to be enough, for people, to not be a problem they will one day resent solving and decide to abandon by the side of the road. People don’t want a mess. They don’t want someone who’s broken. They don’t want to be there when the going gets bad.

But everything is just so much, and Kurt has never been more tired of fighting.

He can’t hide it anymore. Can’t compress it down and pretend it isn’t happening. A recent study session with Elliott turned into a minor – he would deem minor, although Elliott would definitely evaluate it way worse – breakdown over one of his theory papers. What should’ve been some simple frustration over his inability to phrase his argument was instead far more loaded, the depths of his anger and stress seeping through, unable to be contained.

Maybe talking is – finally – what he needs. He’s tried everything else.

He reaches over and into the pocket of the jacket he wore a couple days ago, and pulls out the card Elliott pushed into his hand as they left the coffee shop. For the therapist I used to see when I first got to the city, Elliott had told him. She really helped me sort through some stuff, and I know she can help you too.

Call, he had urged quietly. Please, Kurt. It doesn’t have to be like this.

It isn’t the first time Elliott’s brought up seeing a therapist. That was his first suggestion when Kurt broke the news of his and Blaine’s breakup. Kurt had ignored him then, insisted that the breakup was all he needed. He’d be fine.

But the lump in his throat has been there for weeks, and he is so tired of being on the verge of tears all the time.

That’s what he tells himself, as he grabs his phone. His fingers shake as he puts in the number and presses ‘call’.

He’s so tired of being tired.