#i like how my posts have slowly started to become more and more incomprehensible as time goes on

[steakout-05]

ok so i'm a newer Star Trek fan and i've just been watching TNG (since that's the one i'm the most attached to + my dad really likes that one as well) and haven't watched much of TOS yet. but i am really interested in TOS and plan on watching it when i finish TNG, so for starters i thought i'd check out the main opening to the original series and oh my fucking god???? it sounds like a silly family sitcom and i'm just????? i LOVE it????????? but i wasn't expecting it at ALL because i'm so used to hearing the bold adventurous grand composition of TNG's opening, so when i got past the "space, the final frontier" bit only to have silly goofy sitcom music start blasting i just got struck with so much tonal whiplash that i actually thought i was listening to a spoof version at first. but then it set in and i was like "oh my god wait this is real this is what the opening actually fucking sounds like. holy shit. i love it so much" and i gotta ask: is the rest of TOS like this? just like a silly 60s space sitcom with spirk yaoi? because if it is then holy cow holy smokes i need to watch all of it immediately

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

Hi! I saw you rb'd the ask about anything post thingy and I was wondering if you had and thompkean headcanons or anything related to them to share?

(Also when I went to send this ask I realized for the first time you were vssoda I was fully unaware lol)

Thank you so much for this question! I'll start by saying that I'm not sure how much of this can be considered headcanons, it's rather just my thoughts on them oh, and also I still haven't finished Gotham and stopped in the middle of s4 (bc the show is eating up my nerves and I'm healing my mental state to continue watching it😭) and I will note that most likely everything written below is OOC, bc it's hard for me to understand other people's emotions/worldviews/etc, so all my perception of the characters is based on my own experience/feelings Okay let's go (under the cut bc there's a shit tone of text)

1) I think that Lee felt sympathy for Barbara the first time they met at GCPD. You know, that's just that feeling when you like a person at first sight. I mean just look at this (when I turned on this episode now to take screenshots I noticed Lee was swallowing like every 5 seconds. okay girl):

Bonus: Jim Gordon is clearly terrified that his ex is about to steal his new girlfriend:

And I SWEAR because of that I thought this scene in Barbara's apartment would end with them kissing or something

I was SURE they were going to be canon and when Barbara pulled out the knife I just died inside and was incredibly upset in general😭 I feel like if Barbara hadn't attacked Lee then and let go of the thought of Jim they would have started dating eventually one way or another. But naturally, that scene 100% shattered any trust in Barbara (I mean she tried to kill her cmon). I think Lee is a person for whom actions matter a lot and any betrayal/threat is hard to endure, so all the initial sympathy for Barbara was completely shattered

2) It's incredibly hard for me to understand what was going on in Barbara's head in season 2 (but all of season 2 she's clearly in an escalating manic episode and such states are generally hard to understand rationally), but it seems to me that Barbara's obsession with Gordon eventually spilled over into obsession with Lee, Barbara just doesn't realize it

3) Now it seems to me that the most appropriate moment for them to become canon was in season 4 (okay I say that because I'm slowly writing a ThingTM about it), they've both matured morally, been through a lot of shit and the whole Gordon thing is kind of long gone. It's a moment to get a new perspective on each other now anything that has nothing to do with canon:

4) Barbara has clearly been physically attracted to Lee all along. And I think when Barbara realizes that she likes Lee romantically she pulls away. Paradoxically, but starts flirting less, becomes more careful in her actions and words. I think she's scared to actually show romantic sympathy (everything we see in the show is usually physical attraction), bc Barbara has never been accepted as a person (only Tabitha, but there's this complicated story with an incomprehensible love triangle). Barbara's parents didn't love her, Gordon didn't seem to love her much either, Montoya? Honestly, I don't know. I think Barbara's used to pretending and being insincere. And that's the thing that hurt her about Lee: Lee is sincere and not afraid of her emotions. She's honest, open and can show weakness. That's something that Barbara has never allowed herself. And taking the situation of Barbara falling genuinely in love with Lee (I like the idea of Barbara falling in love first) and pulling away, I like to think that Barbara isn't just scared to admit her love (because love = weakness), but also scared to let herself near Lee bc Barbara knows she's a terrible person. It's like touching something clean with dirty hands. And yes, I genuinely love these plot branches when (any kind of) love changes a person for the better, I know it's boring but it's what I want to believe in this life in general

5) It took Lee a lot longer to stop looking at Barbara as a potential danger and unpredictability. She needs time to trust. Again, Lee openly shows her feelings, but that doesn't mean she loves the person, it's just her nature (I think that's exactly what Nygma was getting at. In general, psychopaths often fall in love with people like Lee). But when she felt that Barbara wasn't a threat, she started to notice Barbara as a personality. She fell in love with Barbara's energy (and her humor. I'd like to think of Lee liking Barbara's jokes and every time Lee laughs or smiles Barbara's heart is ready to explode), a healthy version of toughness and sharpness (something Lee lacks, it's hard for her to really resist people), ambition and, despite her generally villainous nature, a desire to do something good (that story about safe space for the women of Gotham)

6) Overall I think they really fell in love with each other as opposites, they have qualities that complement each other and thus both come into balance

7) Their relationship is complicated because it's mentally unhealthy x mentally healthy dynamics. Barbara has an obsessive nature that is hard to get rid of, she has difficulty respecting the other person's personal boundaries, she needs a lot of attention, which her partner can't always give. She has a black and white mindset and any rejection is taken fatally (going into anger or frustration with her partner). But boundaries are a thing she learns in her relationships with Lee and gradually they find compromises. And it seems to me that Lee, despite her generally strong psyche, tends to have an avoidant type of attachment (the fact that she has left town several times as an escape from her problems, but then came back anyway) and at first it was hard for her not to run away from the relationship. Also I think Lee has a problem with rescuing other people, which is also a state she doesn't want to go back to, she doesn't want to save people anymore, giving all of her energy to it. But Barbara doesn't need to be rescued, she can handle her problems on her own, and when Lee realizes that, she becomes calmer. Another problem in their relationship: the fact that Barbara hides her bad mental state to the last, until it all spirals into a severe depression/hysteria/etc. Gradually, Lee creates an atmosphere of comfort and trust without judging Barbara's emotions, so that it becomes easier for the latter to open up, talk about her feelings and not take herself to extremes

8) Both have strong trust issues for different reasons (Barbara is afraid of being abandoned and Lee is afraid of betrayal/violence)

9) They are both self-sufficient mature individuals, but yet they both unknowingly (relatively) give each other a sense of protection and comfort in different aspects of life. Lee learns from Barbara to be tougher with people, to say no more and become a rescuer less often, and Barbara learns from Lee to be more sincere, to not be afraid of her feelings and not consider them a weakness

10) in the beginning of a relationship, Jim was a taboo topic bc it was a trigger for traumatic memories for both of them. But as their relationship settled down, they began to talk about past situations. And in the end their attitude towards Jim was reduced to a funny gratitude, because if it wasn't him, they wouldn't have met and consequently wouldn't have started dating

And some more random stuff:

11) About the ThingTM I'm writing, in short, it's an alternate version of s4 where Barbara and Lee form an alliance and Barbara purposely goes to Lee as a doctor every time she has a physical injury, even if it's something as ridiculous as possible and doesn't really require serious help. Simply bc she wants to spend more time in Lee's company. Sometimes Lee thinks Barbara is just messing with her and she gets really angry about it

12) I very strongly associate them with Abba's song "Voulez-Vous" (I'm a big fan of old disco, Zsasz moment) "Take it now or leave it Now is all we get Nothing promised, no regrets Voulez-vous Ain't no big decision You know what to do La question c'est voulez-vous(!)" *** "I'm really glad you came, you know the start, you know the game Master of the scene We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more You know what I mean."

from Barbara's perspective, they sound to me like Franz Ferdinand's "Take me out." I think Barbara was really annoyed by Lee's unrequited feelings And the Haley Heynderickx's "The Bug Collector", just about the mentally unhealthy x mentally healthy dynamic 13) Because of the scene below I associate Lee with the red color and Barbara with blue (and I think it suits them very well, yes it's cliché, but it's about heat/cold and I'm very fond of connections to ancient things, so here I have a life/death association, mainly because in ancient times blood was associated with life (even though blood loss leads to death) and the graves of the dead were sprinkled with ochre. And black was associated with death of course, dark night too as a symbolism of death and blue in general is easy to take to black. (I even have on this ground not that au but just images of life!Lee and death!Barbara). Well, and there is a logical association that Lee is a doctor and accordingly just within the framework of his profession does everything to prolong human life, and Barbara is a criminal and without much hesitation kills people (if I remember correctly, during the show Barbara killed 34 people or so😭)

I guess that's it for now. Again HUGE thanks for the question, it was really cool to at least structure my thoughts about them a bit. Hopefully some of that made sense And have a nice day!💕 p.s. and I have to admit that sometimes I'm soooo embarrassed that I ship thompkean bc it's like we have canon Barbara x Tabitha and the actors who play Jim and Lee are married in real life like…😭😭😭 I feel guilty but I can't help myself I love them sm And this is the first ship since my teenage years that makes me want to crawl on the walls chew rocks and cry because they're not canon (about nygmobblepot: it could be the same there, but I consider them canon. case closed)

[klayfruit]

ouh.... i had never heard of goblet grotto but i googled it, & the artstyle looks so charming. would love to hear u talk abt it sometime, when u get the chance or feel like it ^_^

THANK U OH MY GOD nows my chance …. idk if u wanted me to explain it in ur dms or anything so im just gonna infodump here!!!

goblet grotto is a game made by thecatamites (who still actively posts games, just mostly under the name garmentdistrict) in 2012. the main Thing abt the game is that you play as a little swamp toad knight (probably) named swampy, who ventures into the grotto for their search for goblets. the game itself though is absolutely giant, branching paths at nearly every corner and the “story” becoming more bizarre as time goes on. goblets become less of a collectable, and more of an item of worship

the moment youre thrown into the game and it begins, there are already several noises screaming into your ears. first thing you notice is the glyphs popping up at the top of the screen, each one appearing accompanied with a Horribly Loud “BWAH”. you take in the side menu, looking at swampy’s little avatar and noticing how one of the options is just “pray”, and seeing how theres a Whole Ass Paragraph describing your surroundings right now. halfway through reading the paragraph, you are killed by wolves. you have eaten 0 meats and collected 0 goblets. the game is absolutely ruthless to the player, sometimes it will just throw an unkillable enemy at you, force you to crawl around slowly without an explanation, completely destroy your save file, etc. theres also just moments where the games like Oop You Fucked Up! like if you pray too many times it completely destroys the side-text into becoming incomprehensible screaming nonsense, along with just randomly spawning pyramids that make a horrible buzzing noise that you cant turn off. also theres an npc where if you interact with them it makes all your side-text start saying weird shit.

how ruthless the game is is what makes it so enjoyable to me, its so just unabashedly itself. youre thrown into this world screaming and bleeding, and you have to figure out how everything works to even manage to survive. the glyphs mentioned earlier are a whole ass language, the translation of each and every single glyph being in the guide book that comes with the game. you need to manage to memorize a good amount of them to realize that they have An Actual Meaning and Mechanic in the game. whenever swampy collapses and starts crawling, its not for no reason, its because theyre hungry/havent collected goblets recently and theyre screaming this at you through the glyphs. also would like to mention that praying too much also leads the glyphs to become more panicked and almost trivial, eventually them turning into symbols that Arent even seen in the guide book and i had to ask thecatamites directly what the glyphs meant.

theres so So much damn story in this game, and at the same time theres little to none. the moment you see something that seems like it could be a reoccurring theme, its instantly thrown out the window. its extremely rare for something to be consistent through a small section of the game, nevertheless the whole ass game. the only example i can think of is the game’s depiction of god, who speaks in funny little typing quirks and says shit like “UP AND ATEMCOWBOY!!!!!! WORLD IS HYOU OYSTER ;^)”. its heavily implied that, once you pray too much and the side text becomes all fucked up, its god speaking to you in their fucked up little way of speaking, screaming at you to keep on moving and collect goblets and have horrible dreams and Replace all files in your computer with a list of Swears (direct quote from god). there are also altars in several areas through the game, purple hooded people surrounding each altar. if you pray at it, god just straight up appears and gives you goblets. what’s special though about the inconsistency is that, at the very “end” of the game, seemingly all the vaguely important characters that you only see once in the whole game appear once again. it just like makes it special and really sends it home. god, along with the purple hooded people appear in this area, i just thought that was fun.

also want to mention the sound design and music is so unique and honestly fantastic. i am specifically talking about the glyph’s “BWAH”s, and also how everytime you collect meat, swing your axe, and collect goblets, you hear a man say in your ear “MEAT.” “KILL.” “GOBLETS.” aside from the sfx though the music is genuinely so fucking good im not even joking. its got such an amazing vibe to it, my personal favorite is world end because of how melancholic it feels compared to every other song in the ost

theres honestly so much i could say about this game, but i have autism and cant properly put my thoughts into words, so all i can say is just Pleaaaaase check out goblet grotto, even just for a moment. the gameplay sucks complete ass if youre not familiar with it, but the newest vers of the game DOES have an immortal mode (press L at the start screen and it brings you to Secrets Menu). if you dont wanna play it i recommend vinny’s small vid of him playing it, it gets the main thing abt it across pretty well! ALSO i made a whole ass website of me just talking about everything i know about goblet grotto, its like a sort of guide for the game as theres no other good guides of it online due to how obscure the game is.

anyway thank you so much for listening to me. autism be damned i can write essays about mediocre game

[cats-thoughts]

Hi, uh I came here because of that high school au, but what the otterverse?

oh gosh what isnt the otterverse Okay so its like a series? Where people send in asks to further the story? idk how else to describe it sorry I feel like I should direct you to Pacificseaotter, who runs the thing and also has a few different posts for catching up, but instead I'm going to try and recall the whole story by memory! Fuck it we ball yk

Okay so it started as a bit, but slowly evolved into an actual story? first season took place in a theater, It was mostly felicityphoenix5, pacificseaotter, and divorce anon (as far as I remember, also all c! they've been pretty much playing characters since the start) Felix was tied to a chair, Divorce Anon and Paci quoted hamilton at each other, I think Paci killed someone? then paci shot the chandelier, killing herself and divorce anon (revealed to be wallace-marte, crab guy) Felix survived bc xey are a phoenix. Everyone else got out alive I think? We were audience members, also tied to chairs (maybe) Meanwhile I slept through the whole chandelier thing, which becomes a reoccurring bit with my character.

Season 2 was more interaction from everyone else, it lead up to pink anon (who turned out to be wisp? I think?) convincing Otter (pacis character died so star made another, named Otter) to pull a lever, starting the apocalypse. Which my character (stickynote) slept through. This took place in a wendies btw. I made a good "wrong lever" joke. So, apocalypse started, everyone rushes to try and fix it. Eventually pink name shows up again and is like "ik how to fix this follow me" and otter is, reasonably, like "wtf no you started this whole thing like that" but eventually agrees, and goes to flip the lever again. Gumy and Pink text (probably wisp?) fight and both die. Otter dies saving Felix. Oh yeah the lever gets pulled again and MOST of the monsters of the apocalypse die/disappear. Some are still around. My guy, Stickynote, goes into stasis for 4 years, and everyone else learns to cope with the apocalypse. the wendys anons get married and start a new city.

Echo (pacis newest character) shows up and. Well they're just kinda here rn I think? Stickynote wakes from stasis and is trying to answer all of the wishes people left on the fountain beneath where they slept. Theres a kid that can control the monsters?? somehow?? Felix is in MISERY why does her wife keep SHOWING UP AFTER THEY DIE- oh yeah and divorce anon may come back we're not sure, arise from the dead and all happens sometimes

if you want an actually comprehensive update/summary of the otterverse go check out pacificseaotter and search through rains Otterverse tag, whether you want the whole story or just want to dig until you find the summary posts. I'm sorry this is so incomprehensible I have terrible memory

[sorrowtainted]

man sometimes i just think about... god/eldritch-like being chuuya... (my headcanons and stormbringer spoilers under the cut!)

I was kind of sad about stormbringer at first, ngl, because i absolutely adored the concept of chuuya being a literal god and struggling with his humanity as a result of that, and stormbringer seemed to kind of debunk that entirely. but then i realized i could easily come up with headcanons to make my ideas work anyway asfjsdhkjs

i do think what's (probably) intended in canon is great too, but I love the concept of a singularity being like... while it's not strictly a god in the conventional sense, and scientists think of it as more of a non-living phenomena than anything else... nobody actually really knows what one really is. while it's noted several times that the singularities don't have "personalities" so to speak, they do seem to embody the feeling of hatred, which suggests some level of sentience, at least to me - and who's to say that they aren't alive on a level that humans simply can't comprehend??

that goes along with my other headcanon, where first things first. chuuya is the clone - i know he was strongly implied to be the original and not the clone in stormbringer's epilogue, but it's not explicitly stated, so either interpretation works in my mind. either way though, i like thinking of the "artificial personality" of chuuya as having become one with the singularity arahabaki, which in spite of the scientist's beliefs, is actually more akin to a living, ancient being than an ability - one that simply accesses the world through the phenomenon of contradictory abilities clashing.

basically, i may not be explaining this right, but chuuya is actually arahabaki, the ancient and incomprehensible creature, rather than just a vessel for him. however, the artificial code used to create a human personality for arahabaki and his human body kind of interacted upon his "birth" with his already existing consciousness as a "god" and they kind of fused, in a way?? i'll probably make another post explaining what i mean better later, since i'm not sure i'm making sense, but.

i'm partially biased because i have a huge thing for the whole "arabahaki is chuuya" concept and have done from the start, but it's also because like... i like the theme of chuuya actually NOT being human in the most literal sense, but slowly coming to terms with the fact that he still is human in every other way that counts. that just feels more meaningful to me personally than him being a perfectly ordinary person after all. i liked that there was plenty of language in stormbringer bringing home how otherworldy the singularities were too, tbh.

tldr is that in my mind, in spite of what we were told in stormbringer, chuuya is the singularity arahabaki rather than just being a vessel for him, and accordingly, singularities are actually not what they appear to be and are living on some level, similar to the concept of "gods." i'm just trying to work that headcanon in with stormbringer so that everything's still technically compliant with it, lol. please tell me if this post makes no sense because i suspect that's the case and i'll explain better hopefully ahsdhfksdjdskj

[smudgefawn]

history of the entire world i guess: context for the world of my dnd campaign (& the oc’s therein i post about)

[this article may contain excessive detail irrelevant to most parties interests, proceed with caution]

To tell this story well we must in turn tell four different stories. Let us start at the beginning of everything.

The multiverse, the planar system in which everything exists, is born in heat and light and explosion all at once. In the same moment, Sol is born, as much fire as fire is he. One cannot exist without the other and because one exists the other does. For longer than anything has ever existed he is all that there is, but as the universes cool another comes and for the first time he is not alone. A sister, or something like it, his opposite and twin. No one but the two of them could say what it was like in those earliest eons and they wouldn’t dare. A third is born as stars and planets and solar systems form and last by more time than can be expressed even by the longest lived races in the most ancient planes, life is born and so comes a fourth. Sol, Tianyu, Polaris and Cephas, a set of siblings tied to the very essence of the universe.

Sol is strange and disinterested, distant perhaps by virtue of being the most ancient thing there is. Tianyu understands that while Sol is first, as the universe cools and everything else dies they will be last and exist, perhaps, for a forever beyond imagining. She absorbs everything she can while it still exists in the hope of filling the void of its absence. Polaris feels the acute ache of being on the outside of a group that should be her own, neither incomprehensible and ancient or shiny and young and she retreats into the stars, a craftsperson designing cosmos and finding company therein. Cephas is young and will always be youngest, destined to die before he’s lived a fraction of the others lives. He does his best to find meaning and love among that which he’s bound to in whatever time that he has.

Slowly, as the planes mature the Feywild defines itself as a home of wild and untamable magic and the primordials, as they become known, gravitate towards it as pure embodiments of wild and elemental magic themselves. They travel freely but something about the fey appeals to them and aligns with themselves. As consequence, the fey organize and align with them in turn, forming courts and swearing their allegiance to one of the primordials and serving their element (overtime they have earned a vaster elemental association as well as their true aspects) in exchange for the protection and wealth of magic only the most vast and magical beings in all of the planes can provide. Smaller and more specified courts rise and fall but the great four which they exist within stay the same: Fire/Summer, Winter/Water, Air/Spring and Earth/Fall. Cephas and Tianyu take to their designated role well and become involved with the workings and politics of the fey while Sol and Polaris continue to be removed– as such their courts attract those who want protection without oversight or involvement.

Here we come to the second part of our story; an archfey of a court of elemental and seasonal working whose name is lost to time and magic. Xiangli, head of one of the Courts of Summer and faithful if only by happenstance to Sol. Their court is theirs and they take care of what belongs to them but she grows bored or the monotony of the universe, of fickle fey always squabbling for power and pride. Creatures are cruel and repetitive and boring and she wishes only for them not to be. Enter a mortal. A human who knows they lack power, who knows they can never compare to the majesty of the fey and their mortal gods and resents having to beg and plead and scrape for anything to call their own. And she is smart and wants only to help her people, to protect and better them. And Xiangli is eager to believe in something good that knows it’s place.

They teach her the languages of magic, how to understand it and twist it and make it her own. She teaches her to learn and understand and grasp at even a tendril of power, because it will never matter. She is human and it is endearing and bold to chase what you know you shouldn’t be able to attain and know your limits still. They let their guard down and believe too wholly in the myth of goodness. They should know better than to believe something like her would not grow an appetite that could not be contained.

She catches Xiangli and uses them. They are too powerful to die and they taught her well enough that she knows how not to kill them, how to harvest their power and leave enough for it to come back. But an archfey does not disappear unnoticed.

Courts have champions, things to be shown off and presented at parties and tournaments. A display of power and skill and a way to keep peace through threat of what they would face. The best of her court comes for her, to try to free her and fails. This is enough to catch Sol’s attention.

Sol is strange and distant and volatile and cares only in ways incomprehensible even to the fey for the things that belong to him, his courts and his archfey among them. The point of a court is to be protected, to have ties and community and the point of a primordial allegiance is to strengthen that. But courts and fey have rules, esoteric and strange but more binding than those of the mortal realm. Xiangli, as far as Sol or anyone else is concerned, betrayed their court by siding with mortality and made the mistake of not specifying the terms of a bargain struck. They are alone and abandoned to find their own way free if they wish to return home.

The wizard, only knowing that she has attracted the attention of something bigger and more powerful than she can comprehend devises a plan to keep herself and the rest of mortality safe. To seal it all away where it cannot touch them, where it cannot break free and take its vengeance not just on her but on everything which has ever dared to breathe on the mortal plane. In a final act of abuse she rips everything she can from Xiangli, likely intending to kill them, and uses it to cut the Feywild from the mortal plane. Xiangli is taken back to the other side but as the wizard gave nothing of her own it was an imperfect severing. A scar on the world with cracks big enough for smaller things to wiggle through. A problem for someone else to solve.

A court often has more than one champion and while one came to save Xiangli there was another, younger and not yet as talented, vying for the praise and esteem of a higher station. He is not so sympathetic as to his mistress’s binding; to him it is true she did this to herself. Had she simply been loyal to their court and not longed for something more than they could apparently give her this never would have come to pass and there would not be a war brewing to fill the void in power left by their absence.

Sol is intrigued by the different flavor of loyalty this young champion has and takes him for his own. When Xiangli returns and razes their court for their betrayal he is the only one spared by virtue of his absence. It is not long after that the planes are severed and Sol is trapped on the other side, and while it is true that he cares differently for the courts than they may prefer he knows what this will mean. The Feywild and the material plane will both become stagnant and rot without their sister plane to exchange energy and magic with and without him his courts will eventually destroy each other and likely everything else. Like trapped and stupid animals. He turns his champion into his prince— the Summer Prince —to be his eyes and ears and mouth on the other side and devises a plan to mitigate the rot. Polaris, also trapped on the other side of the scar apart from her courts, sets to similar machinations.

Tianyu and Cephas are trapped. Like the rest of their plane they starve. Tianyu thrashes and revolts and fights against the magic but the larger you are the more likely to be trapped in a net and she only manages to kill herself a few times over. Still licking their wounds and recovering, Xiangli finds them. They are one of two people in the multiverse who knows how this was done. And wouldn’t Tianyu like to see it undone?

Millennia pass. The Feywild chokes and the material plane begins to struggle for breath. They are not meant to exist apart.

A young man joins the militia and then the Magi, the order the wizards have become to protect themselves and their country, trying to rise above station after station in the hopes that if only he scrounges together enough power he can protect everyone. His name is Roy and he decides that anything he can attain on the mortal plane will never be enough to make a difference; he needs godhood.

Xiangli and Tianyu have had millenia to steep in their anger, to grow into a twisted and intertwined mess. They are suffering for being trapped. Between the rage and the dying of the plane, Tianyu has been irrevocably corrupted, her court turning from the Court of Water to the Court of Ice. There are holes in her memory spanning centuries. Xiangli had every good thing about their element and their court ripped out of them; they are no longer warmth or light, only destruction and ash. They wish only to do unto mortality as was done unto them and to be freed they need someone on the other side. Enter a man looking for power to help his people, to protect and better them. Stupid and reckless enough to trust a fey. They devise a plan together.

As the scheme and dance around each other fascination grows into something that could be love, kept carefully at arms length except for rare and careful examination. At her core Xiangli still wants to believe in something good and despite everything Roy is good. For his part he believes that they only want freedom and life for their plane and promises to be loyal until they aren’t. Tianyu hates him and everything he stands to destroy, the pain she knows he will undoubtedly inflict on their only friend.

How it is undone is not as important as the fact that it is. The war that follows is brief, but brutal. In millenia trapped and scrounging for magic in an attempt to control the damage Sol has grown into something else, something more mortal and caring. Something that cares at all. When the planes are torn open and his sister welcomes herself back into the material plane with frozen destruction, he is the only thing that keeps her from destroying everything responsible for hurting her and everything beyond that too. The fight which follows is so great in its magic and violence it cannot be understood even by those who saw, but Tianyu, or the version of them that wanted everything destroyed, is killed. Xiangli attempts what is only possible at the hands of another primordial and tries with all of the power at her disposal to kill Sol too. By all accounts this fight is much shorter and simpler and she dies for nothing.

Roy, having used the magic created in the opening of the scar to send himself to the celestial plane, home of the gods, succeeds in ripping the god of war off of his throne and taking his place. Asserting his role in the position as one of eliminating rather than creating war he helps to settle the rest of the fighting and only discovers later that Xiangli is dead. How he responds to this knowledge isn’t known.

On the other side of what was once the scar, the Summer Prince has kept peace in the Courts of Fire for millenia, making sure his people survived in whatever way they could. Despite their primordials new alignment, there are many among the courts who are of the opinion that the material plane should have burned for trapping them to die. Sol, while kinder and gentler than before, does not understand the gravity of the situation and simply believes their anger will burn itself out. The Prince is caught between a brewing civil war and the being he has devoted his life in service to.

Halfway between then and the present, Tianyu wakes up. She cannot stay dead. As long as the cold and the water exist, so must she. But she is changed. Little memory of the time spent sealed away remains and they are much like their old self, still volatile but without the will to raze an entire plane.

All is well. The planes heal as most of their inhabitants do too.

Sol disappears.

[musette22]

So did jock Steve and emo Bucky meet in college or earlier, like high school? How long exactly has Steve been crushing? 😉

[Post 1 & post 2 about jock!Steve and emo!Bucky which inspired this ask]

Oh nooo, it's even cuter if Steve's crush dates back to high school 😩 Or... what if... they met in elementary school in Brooklyn? Back when Steve was small and kind of inconspicuous, while Bucky was a popular, happy-go-lucky kid who was adored by teachers and other kids alike. Steve, too, kind of looked up to Bucky, and when Bucky stood up for Steve once when bullies got a hold of him, Steve developed the child equivalent of a crush on Bucky.

But then, Bucky moved away because his dad got a new job or something, and his teenage years were kind of tough. Maybe they moved a couple more times during his high school years and Bucky couldn't really settle anywhere, maybe his parents had a messy divorce or something like that, and Bucky kind of turned in on himself, stopped being so outgoing and preferred keeping to himself, turned a little shy.

As fate would have it, years later, Bucky and Steve end up attending the same college. Steve has had his grow spurt in the final years of high school and is almost unrecognisable from his former self, plus Steve Rogers is a pretty generic name, so Bucky doesn't really make the connection between little Stevie who used to get bullied in the playground, and Steve, captain of the football team.

Steve, however, has thought about Bucky a lot over the years, wondered how he was doing, and there aren't that many guys called Bucky, and while Bucky has changed, he's still as handsome and kind as he used to be back in school. So Steve recognises him immediately, and all of his old feelings come rushing back to the surface, although now he sees them through a different lens because this time, he knows he's bisexual (no one else knows, but Steve does).

He also realizes that his admiration for Bucky isn't just admiration - it's a crush. His stomach erupts into a cloud of butterflies every time he spots Bucky in class or on campus, and he finds himself unconsciously memorising Bucky's schedule so he can make sure to hang around outside his dorm or classroom at the right time to 'accidentally' bump into him. To Steve's immense disappointment, however, Bucky not only doesn't recognise him, but he hardly even seems to notice him. He probably thinks Steve just another airheaded college jock, and Steve has no idea how to act on his infatuation...

Which is where the next ask I got about this comes in!

I think your suggestions work perfectly as a continuation of the above, @possibleplatypus!

At some point, Steve has a lightbulb moment and he realizes he might as well use the image Bucky probably has of him as a dumb jock type, and ask him for some tutoring. When Steve approaches him about it, Bucky is a little confused and a lot flustered, because while he doesn't know a lot about Steve, he does know that he's one of the most popular guys on campus, and definitely the hottest (Bucky would know, he's gay) and he can't quite figure out why he would be asking Bucky of all people for help. But Bucky has never been able to turn down anyone who needed his help, and definitely not anyone with gorgeous blue puppy dog eyes and biceps bigger than Bucky's head, so he agrees.

So slowly, over the weeks and months that follow, they get to know each other. It doesn't take long for Bucky to realize that Steve isn't just a pretty face, and he's actually really smart and spirited and politically engaged, and they share a lot of the same opinions and interests. Then, Steve confesses he remembers Bucky from primary school back in Brooklyn, and Bucky is stunned, because golden boy Steve is little Stevie Rogers?? And of course, he starts to develops feelings for Steve in return. He doesn't yet know that Steve is bi, though (he's only ever seen Steve with girls, and gorgeous ones at that), so he keeps it to himself, and so does Steve. AKA idiots in love.

But they do start hanging out together more, also outside of campus, doing things like going to music concerts together (Bucky is stunned to find that Steve actually also loves the alternative bands Bucky is a fan off) and they become a sort of phenomenon on campus: jock Steve and emo nerd Bucky who for some incomprehensible reason suddenly became best pals. Fortunately, apart from some snide remarks from some of the other jocks like Rumlow and Rollins, everyone leaves them alone because they all adore Steve, and Steve is also the best football captain this college has seen in many long years.

And then one night (and please just indulge me in my American college stereotypes for a minute), Steve hears that one of Bucky's favourite horror movies is playing in the college drive-in movie theater, and he invites Bucky to come see it with him. They head there together in Steve's vintage car, and things start of like their friendship outings usually do, with lots of banter and animated conversations. 

But then when the movie starts, it turns out that Steve is actually kind of a scaredy-cat when it comes to horror. So when the murderer suddenly pops up on screen, he shrieks and hides his face in Bucky's shoulder. Bucky automatically puts a protective arm around Steve, and then when Steve peeks his nose out again to see if the coast is clear, he can't help but notice how close their faces are. And when Bucky turns to him to ask if he's alright, he seems to notices the same thing and freezes. They stare at each other for a long moment before suddenly, Steve surges forward and kisses Bucky. Bucky makes a startled 'mmphh' kind of sound, so Steve quickly pulls back, already starting to apologize - but before he gets very far, Bucky launches himself at Steve and kisses him back with fervor.

They spend the rest of the movie making out in Steve's car, and from that moment onwards, they're inseparable not just as best friends, but as boyfriends. Steve comes out to his team and eventually the rest of the campus, and apart from the usual suspects, everyone is supportive, if a little surprised to say the least. And then Bucky starts wearing Steve's varsity jackets, and becomes the football team's new unofficial mascot, because whenever he kisses Steve good luck before a game, they absolutely smash the competition. Steve, for his part, encourages Bucky to join a band (he's been playing guitar for years but only in the privacy of his room, and later for Steve) and when he does, Steve goes to every concert to support him and whistle on his fingers to cheer him on...

I have a lot of feelings and thoughts about this, it seems 🥺

[scripturiends]

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

Read on ao3

Summary: It was the one time her hunch had been wrong.

In which Han Joonhwi is acting suspicious, and Kang Sol A intends to find out why.

Rating: T

Word count: 3,848

Notes: Title taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘invisible string’: “Time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs; were there clues I didn’t see?”

~

As promised, here is the Solhwi fic that I had hoped to be up before Episode 7 airs. I went straight to work after receiving positive feedback from an interest check post. As I mentioned there, the story isn’t necessarily dwelling on the current timeline, but is, for the most part, still canon-compliant. I totally made up all the legal jargon, so please bear with me. And, like the show, I decided to do ‘cutscenes’ instead of one unilinear fic.

I had a lot of fun with this little project for the past two days, so I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it :) I’d also love to hear your thoughts, please do send me a message or feel free to comment, it would mean the absolute world to me. Thank you and let’s all look forward to Episodes 7 and 8 this week!

The fic is under the cut. As a sidenote, this fic is un-beta’ed. All mistakes are mine.

~

I.

Kang Sol A swears she only drifted off for a second.

She had been burning the midnight oil for the past few days, well into the weekend, so much that the tension was radiating into her atmosphere, so much that the heat was starting to get to her head. Her Civil Code paper may not write itself, but neither could she if it took every ounce of her energy just to even sit up. So she plopped down on her bed, head heavy on her pillow, still fighting the urge to doze off.

She blinked, slowly, and as her eyes fluttered at an alarming rate, they eventually closed — just for a moment, I’ll count to ten and then wake up again — and stilled.

Birds were chirping outside her window when her eyes shot open, and that’s how she knew she messed up big-time. She woke with a start, frantically shaking off the books and papers off her person and frisking for her phone, silently praying that she wasn’t too late for her meeting with her project partner Seo Jiho, who she knows absolutely despises latecomers.

Sol A felt something vibrate from behind her, and an incomprehensible sound escaped her lips as she checked her phone. There were mountains of notifications that prevented her from checking the current time: self-set alarms, e-mails from her professors, reminders about today’s meeting with Jiho, and missed calls from a certain Han Joonhwi.

Clearing all of them at once, she finally reads: 9:07 AM. She was supposed to meet Jiho at 9:15. Sol A breathes a sigh of relief, but her momentary celebration is cut short when her phone starts to ring.

Han Joonhwi was calling again.

She didn’t even get a chance to speak yet when the voice on the other end asked, “Breakfast?”

Sol A put him on speaker phone as she packed up her things. “Can’t,” she replied mindlessly. “I have to meet with Seo Jiho and I’m already late. Eat by yourself.”

A few seconds of silence went unnoticed as Kang Sol A zipped up her knapsack and wore it over her shoulder. She finally picked up her phone and switched back to the handset. “Don’t skip breakfast, you hear me?”

Still nothing. “Joonhwi-ah.”

“Walk fast,” was all he said. And then he hung up.

That caught Sol A off guard, but she heeded the advice anyway.

She made it to the study room at exactly 9:13, only stopping by the entrance to catch her breath and tie her hair back into a ponytail. It was silent, so she half-hoped that no one would be there, but half-expected nothing less from Jiho. So she walks in, footsteps heavy, only skidding to a halt when she sees Jiho staring someone down, someone whose back looked all-too-familiar.

“You like her, don’t you?” she overhears from Jiho. “Kang So-”

Jiho suddenly fell silent at the sight of Sol A, and the man opposite him suddenly turned his head towards her. She was right about who it was — it was none other than the person she spoke with on the phone just a few minutes ago.

If Joonhwi was surprised, he didn’t show it.

But Kang Sol A did. She blinked once, and with a hint of dubiousness, she asked, “Who likes who?”

The men shared a look, and she was met with silence again, which was beginning to irk her. But she bit her tongue, took a seat across Seo Jiho, and grinned cheekily at him. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You aren’t...” Jiho replied, trailing off.

“I am by your standards. I know you,” she said matter-of-factly. “For Seo Jiho, ‘on time’ actually means ‘thirty minutes early’. Which means I’m late.”

Sighing wistfully, Sol A added, “I learned that the hard way.”

She locks eyes with Joonhwi momentarily, but he averts his gaze, expression unreadable. Sol A ignores this and tries her luck once more, eyes flitting from Jiho to Joonhwi and back. “Who were you guys talking about?”

This time, almost with no hesitation, Joonhwi finally spoke up. “No one,” he answered. “My roommate was just practicing his cross-examination skills on me.”

He stood up, giving Seo Jiho a final staredown. “They’re very poor at the moment. Help him out, will you?”

Then, without looking Kang Sol A in the eye, he gave her a soft squeeze on the shoulder, and promptly left.

Sol A’s eyes followed Joonhwi’s back, and stayed there even after he left. His touch lingered on her shoulder like a ghost, but instead of comfort, all she felt was fear. Suspicion. Restlessness. That maybe he was hiding something, and whether it involved her or not, she was keen on finding out just exactly what it was.

II.

“I’m telling you, Yeseul-ah,” Sol A insists. “Something’s up with him.”

They link arms, walking past the school entrance and into the lobby. Jeon Yeseul turns to her, hair falling perfectly into place as she lets out an angelic laugh. God, Sol A thinks. Even her laugh is perfect. But past the admiration for her Aphrodite-like features, Sol A feels like she’s being mocked.

She pouts. “You don’t believe me.”

“I do!” Yeseul defends. “You think he likes Kang Sol B.”

Sol A slides her left hand off Yeseul’s arm and holds her friend’s right one lightly. “So why are you laughing at me, then?”

“Unnie.” Yeseul wraps an arm around Sol A’s shoulder. “Has it ever crossed your mind that maybe Joonhwi-oppa likes you?”

Sol A almost choked on her spit. Of course she’s thought about it — after all, she’s a hundred percent certain that it was the name Kang Sol that slipped from Seo Jiho’s mouth a few days ago. But none of the evidence so far points to it being herself. And anyway, it’s not as if he’s shown any interest in Sol A as a woman. In fact, all he does is tease her. And she’s okay with that. And Sol B already likes Joonhwi. And they seem to be a far better fit than Sol A and Joonhwi. And it’s not like she harbors any romantic feelings for him, either.

She pushes the thought away before it could become bigger.

Sol A denies, deflects, and defends. “That can’t be right.”

“Why not?” her friend challenges.

“Why would he be avoiding me if that were true?” Sol A counters.

“People do that when they feel awkward around their crush,” Yeseul rebuts.

This is starting to feel like a game of chess rather than a conversation between best friends. “I think he’s just scared I’ll tell my roommate or something.” Before Yeseul could say anything else, by some stroke of luck, Sol A spots Joonhwi from her peripheral vision, walking past Lady Justice.

Yeseul smiles kindly at Sol A. She doesn’t doubt its genuineness, but she feels like it’s laced with mischief. “Should we test your theory, then?”

What does that mean?

“Joonhwi-oppa!” Yeseul shouts, waving at him from across the room.

She’s not going to ask him, is she?

Yeseul runs to Joonhwi, a light skip in her step. “I have something to ask you.”

Wait.

“Wait,” escaped from Sol A’s lips, barely a whisper before it started registering on her what Yeseul was about to do. And when it does, she finally sprints. “Jeon Yeseul, wait!”

“Oppa.” Yeseul bats her eyelashes at Joonhwi. Sol A was in tow behind her, feeling small but unsure why.

“Oh, Yeseul-ah,” Joonhwi greets. His eyes lit up at the sight of his friend and classmate.

While it pained Sol A to just sit back and watch, knowing that Joonhwi had been purposefully avoiding her, she let the scene unfold, trusting that Yeseul knew what she was doing.

“You haven’t been going to the study group sessions lately,” Yeseul starts.

Sol A hoped it would get a rise out of him, seeing as he was the one who started the group to begin with, but was barely showing up these days. Instead, all he said was, “The pair project in Civil Code has been holding me up.”

Yeah, right, she thinks. A second-round judicial exam passer and a former police academy student having a hard time in Civil Code? Why do I find that hard to believe?

Sol A scoffs, and Yeseul pinches her side. “Sol-unnie and I are meeting the others for lunch. You should come join us.”

“Ah,” Joonhwi drawled out slowly, as if coming up with an excuse to say no. Sol A expects it to be his next move. “I wish I could, but-”

Knew it.

“Kang Sol B will be there,” Sol A blurts out, fully aware that it’s a total lie. Still, she had to try.

Something in Joonhwi’s mood changed, and his face hardened. Still not making eye contact with Sol A, he excuses himself from Yeseul. “I’ll take a rain check today, okay?”

And without another word, he left again, leaving Sol A with the same emptiness that she had felt in the study room the other day.

Yeseul finally turns to Sol A, crossing her arms. “You’re right. He’s being weird.”

III.

A few more days without Joonhwi’s company, and Sol A was starting to feel its ill effects on her. She hadn’t realized just how much she took him for granted until he was no longer around to challenge her ideas, to annoy her over the littlest of things, to calm her down when she’s freaking out, to be her drinking buddy, to be someone she could tell any and every stupid story to, with the utmost confidence that he’ll keep it to himself or that he wouldn’t belittle her for it.

They’d been through too much together now, and even their fateful first meeting all those years ago didn’t faze him from her. In fact, her little scheme, no matter how deceitful at the time, brought him closer not just to her, but to Byeol, her mom, and to an extent, even Dan.

So what changed? What on earth did Seo Jiho say to him, and what on earth did she walk into, that made him close himself off from her? Proximity may not breed familiarity, but right now she wishes nothing more than to be in his orbit again.

Arguably the worst consequence of the lack of Joonhwi in Sol A’s life right now is having no one to eat with.

During one of her all-nighters at the dorm, she found herself with an intense craving for some ramyeon. She removed her earphones, partly to pull herself back to reality, but mostly to ask her roommate to have a meal with her. As if Sol B would say yes, but it was worth a shot.

“I’m going downstairs for a bite. You wanna come?”

No response, as expected from Kang Sol B. Sol A inwardly rolled her eyes, spinning in her chair to tease her roommate, only to find the desk empty.

She scratched her head while walking, wondering where Sol B could be at this time of night. And without a heads up, too… She was getting worried.

But it seems like her concern was all for naught, because Sol B was right where Sol A was headed.

And she was there with Han Joonhwi.

She was laughing. It was the first time that she saw Sol B laugh, maybe ever, and to see that Joonhwi could be someone who could do that for her, made Sol A feel proud. Like knowing Han Joonhwi was a privilege, not only because of the way he could make people comfortable around him, but also because Sol A had once been on the receiving end of it herself.

She should be relieved. In fact, she should be happy. Because it means that her guess was right, which means she doesn’t have to keep digging anymore. She could just tell Joonhwi that his secret’s safe with her, and they could finally go back to the way they were before... Right?

And yet something about witnessing the pair interact as a mere bystander didn’t sit right with Sol A. There’s a pang in her chest that she can’t quite comprehend — maybe she just misses him, or maybe it’s something else completely. Because if Han Joonhwi has feelings for Kang Sol B, and they’re together right now, then that leaves only one explanation: he must be avoiding her, and for a completely different reason.

It was the first time her hunch had been wrong.

Needless to say, Sol A lost her appetite and trudged back upstairs lifelessly, a bitter taste in her mouth and an ache in her stomach that she couldn’t quite place where it even came from.

IV.

Come Friday, Sol A was too exhausted to even think about Han Joonhwi. Between the endless deadlines and papers to write, her job in the copy room, and the Seo Byungju case, her energy had been too depleted and her social battery too worn out to even care that her relationships could be falling apart.

The only thing she has going for her now is the Legal Clinic, the one place where she could bury her nose deep in case digests and law readings and she would absolutely never get tired of it, because it’s the one place where she feels like she’s making a real difference, especially when people’s lives are at stake. It was the remaining part of her life where Sol A felt like she was in control, so these days, all her emotionally-charged passion was focused on this one thing.

But of course that had to fall apart too, when Professor Yang asked for her to stay after class.

He cut right to the chase. “I’ll be meeting with my defense lawyer today so I need you to consult with the client in my stead.”

Count on Yangcrates to always give Sol A a heart attack in under two seconds.

“M-me?” she stuttered.

The professor’s face twitched, ever-so-slightly, which Sol A took as a sign to backtrack and confidently proclaim that she’s up to the task. She knows there’s nothing Yang Jonghoon hates more than a quitter.

“Ah, yes, of course,” she accedes, with a little more verve.

He nods once in her direction. “And take Han Joonhwi with you,” he commanded.

She’s doomed. Not that she wasn’t doomed before, but now that Professor Yang had to drag her personal life into this, she was really in shambles.

Sol A clears her throat. “With all due respect, Sir,” she laughs nervously, “don’t you trust me?”

Professor Yang takes a moment to think about it. Sol A wonders if today’s the day she finally gets a definitive answer. But Yangcrates is as sly as ever. “This is your chance to get back at him for the Bad FaMa case. Make him your assistant this time.”

He walks away, leaving Sol A dumbfounded once again, but not before he adds, “Under my orders, of course.”

Sol A’s knees buckled at the thought. Normally, she would find this predicament to be absolutely funny, a chance to bicker with Joonhwi and learn something from him at the same time. But he’s angry at her, and she doesn’t even know why, and even merely approaching him has turned into a problem.

Everything in Sol A’s life right now is a problem. She wonders if it's getting Joonhwi back that would fix everything.

Upon leaving the classroom, she spots him getting a drink from the vending machine. She has to slap herself twice, just to mentally prepare herself, to muster up the courage to approach him again.

“Come on, Sol,” she whispers to herself. “This isn’t hard.”

Shaking off the nerves, she takes a step forward, but in a momentary state of weakness, takes another step back. “So what if he’s mad? That’s his problem. I’ve never given him a reason to be angry. He should suck it up. Not me. Come on. Just do it.”

A step forward.

“Just do it.”

A step back.

“Goddamn it.”

One final step back to boost herself forward, and she’s running towards him, pretending to be as casual as possible. “Han Joonhwi!” she calls out to him.

His eyes widen at the sight of her, knowing he has nowhere to escape.

“Did you get my text? Professor Yang needs our help at the Legal Clinic.” She smiled at him. “Let’s go.”

Joonhwi scratched the back of his head, and Sol A just knows it’s about to be another lame excuse. “I can’t. I’m meeting Sol B for our Civil Code term paper.”

He can’t even look at her, and Sol A wonders just how bad she had hurt Joonhwi for him to feel like this towards her. But that only lasted for a second, when she realized just exactly what he said. Then, her pity turned into irritation, as she accused, “Liar.”

Sol A crossed her arms, and glared at Joonhwi. “Did you forget that I’m her roommate? She went home today.”

V.

Sol A sat across Joonhwi inside the Legal Clinic, her eyes narrowed to slits. A profound silence enveloped the room, interrupted only by a sharp inhale from her.

“You like Kang Sol B, don’t you?”

The only response she got was Han Joonhwi’s signature smirk, playful and taunting, one that said, ‘You don’t know me, and you never will’.

She hated that.

She slammed a hand on the table, and pointed at him accusingly. “Don’t look at me like that. I would have kept your secret if you just asked. Is that why you were avoiding me? Because you think I’d tell her or something?”

The same smile painted on his face, Joonhwi exhaled defeatedly. “Kang Sol A, I thought I taught you to never make any claims with unfounded bases.”

An eyebrow perched up on Sol A’s end. “It’s not unfounded,” she argues.

“Where’s your evidence, then?” he dared her.

Sol A had been waiting for this. She listed everything he had ever done — or refused to do, which was spend time with her, speak to her, or even look at her, which was absolutely the bare minimum — since the incident with Seo Jiho up to this very moment.

He waves his hand dismissingly. “That’s all speculative.”

If his goal was to rile her up, then it’s definitely working. “Then what about what I heard Seo Jiho tell you that one time? And most importantly, you straight up lied to my face.”

“Circumstantial,” he quips. “That would never hold up in court, especially not when the only witness is yourself. How are you going to be both the defense lawyer and the sole witness?”

Han Joonhwi should be at the edge of the precipice here, and yet he has managed to flip the situation over and turn it into an interrogation for Kang Sol A.

Nothing can hide her frustration anymore. “I would never be the lawyer in my own case. Look, it’s still evidence. You asked, and I gave it. Seriously, Han Joonhwi, what’s with you?”

Instead of a direct answer, he points out, “You rely on your emotions too much.”

Almost immediately, she shoots back, “And you rely on the law too much. This isn’t a courtroom. This is a human conversation.”

He purses his lips, unable to say anything, and Kang Sol A continues. “You’re too stubborn.”

“And you’re too nosy.”

“You’ve benefited from it more than once.” Sol A’s patience is getting thinner by the second. “Can’t you just tell me what I did so that I can either apologize for it or call you out for being wrong?”

“You and Sol B are hardly friends. What reason would I have to be afraid?” Amusement gleamed in Joonhwi’s eyes; Sol A was astounded by how he could stay so nonchalant about this. “Think.”

She glared at him, but still ceded. Damn his tenacity. “Fine, I’ll play along.”

She rolled her eyes, and in a blasé manner, started to think out loud. “I overheard Jiho ask you if you liked Kang Sol, and then you started avoiding me. Yeseul asked you to join us for lunch, and when I said Sol B would be there, even though she really wasn’t, you declined. So I thought it was her that you liked. But it doesn’t make sense, because I saw you two hanging out at the cafeteria that one night-”

His arrogant expression changed to one of shock. “You did?”

“-and then you straight up lied to me about your plans. Unless you two are already dating-”

“We’re not,” he interrupts once more. Sol A eyes him with suspicion. “We’re not,” he repeats indignantly.

“-it could only mean that you do like Kang Sol…”

Joonhwi starts slowly nodding, face a little flushed, but somehow urging her on to continue.

“...just not B. You like-”

“Kang Sol A.” Professor Yang enters the room, calling out her name.

She’s sure her professor asked her to do something, but she was unmoved. At this point, she doesn’t think anything could pull her out of her reverie for the rest of the day.

A veil that covered her eyes was lifted, and she had never been so pitiful of the blindfold that Lady Justice wore. The scales Kang Sol A carried, as heavy as the burdens she was facing, balanced with Han Joonhwi holding them up with her. She wanted nothing more than to take his hand right at that moment, to feel the heaviness in its entirety, and thank him for staying anyway.

They don't talk for the rest of the day, but Kang Sol A is unbothered.

Her questioning attitude may have always gotten her in trouble in school, but this was the one time she was glad to be wrong.

Epilogue

Han Joonhwi fell asleep on his desk again.

He normally finishes up all his revisions early, but because of his agitation, the cold table seemed to be more inviting than the bed, where he simply ends up tossing and turning.

Despite the stiff neck it was bound to cause, he’s been doing it for days, only being woken up by his constant 8:30 alarms. This time, however, it was his gracious roommate Seo Jiho who finally interrupted him from his slumber.

Jiho slammed a sealed instant ramyeon pack on Joonhwi’s desk. He groggily looked up at his friend, whose hair was still disheveled, and asked, “What’s this?”

“It’s from Kang Sol A.” Before walking away, he deadpanned, “Do your own bidding next time. I’m not your messenger.”

Joonhwi took the cup ramyeon, spotting the bright yellow sticky note on it, not unlike the ones he’d put on Sol A’s notebook, or occasionally, her forehead. He smiled to himself as he read the message, walking out to heat up some water for breakfast, but not before carefully displaying the note on his bulletin board for the whole world to see.

Han Joonhwi,

For a second-round judicial exam passer, you can be so dense.

I like you back, you idiot.

Now stop sulking and have breakfast with me.

Idiot.

~

Send me your thoughts/fic requests here!

[thisnoodlewritesao3]

Once Upon A Dream | Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader

Characters: Kyoutani Kentarou, Reader, Aoba Johsai Club Members

Pairing: Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader

Genre: Fluff, just happy fluffy times

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, but if you see any, tell me please!

Word Count: 2111

Summary: For almost 3 years, Kyoutani had seen glimpses of your life in his dreams. It was his favourite part of the day. So, when you move to Miyagi, he's far too excited to meet you. Only, he doesn't know your name or your what you look like. And what's a soulmate supposed to do when you go silent at school?

A/N: This has sort of been shoddily thrown together to help me get out of my weird funk lately, but I like it, so sue me. UwU. Check it out, I posted it on AO3 too (here)

---------------------

Kyoutani hated school. Not for any other reason than the fact that the people just annoyed him - much less the fact that he wasn’t particularly good at his - his grades could attest to that. Sure, he loved volleyball, and that might’ve been his favourite part of the day; except his favourite part was sleeping. That was because during the times of slumber, he could see glimpses of what happened during his soulmates day - what happened during your day.

He’d never admit to anyone how happy it made him. He’d do anything to learn everything about you.

At this point, he was sure he knew just about everything about you. Most nights you’d feign studying to your mom - you’d always end up watching far too many episodes of the latest anime that had you hooked - even so, you somehow had almost perfect grades. Every time you were in lessons, you took notes effortlessly, though he only ever saw those notes during class. When you weren’t watching anime, you were writing, listening to music far too loud; a thousand playlists that he could never wrap his head around - he was never sure how you’d managed to memorise where one song in each playlist was all because it took you too much effort just to like it. You couldn’t sing very well, that didn’t seem to stop you - he thought the same about your dancing - but something about seeing a section of that from your day always made him extra happy in the morning. You got along well with your mom, most of those clips you were laughing about something incomprehensible. You seemed to get along with a lot of people, though your closest friends were a pair of twins by the names of Anaka and Anoko. You lived in Tokyo, which hurt his heart far too much than he’d admit.

The one thing that irked him was your dislike for sports, you put in little effort to gym every time. Waking up after those clips of your day were his least favourite thing - he’d even put school before that.

Despite the fact he knew everything about you, or as much as he could, there were two things he didn’t know: your name or your face. He hated that so much. It was as if you never looked at your reflection, or took any pictures of yourself. He had a basic idea of what your hair looked like, but most of the time the strands were out of his vision.

From what he could tell, you were in the year below him; it wasn’t that that particularly mattered to him, it just meant he’d been seeing your life for a year longer than you’d been seeing his life. For the almost three years that he’d been able to see you, you’d barely had two years.

One night, a week before he’d be transitioning into his second year, he’d dreamt of you:

The world zipped by through the car window; you rested your elbow on the door hands, leaning your head into your open palm, forehead pressed against the glass. The view wasn’t one he was used to seeing, it looked more like the countryside rather than the cityscapes; a gentle wave of sadness mused inside of you.

“I know it’s going to be a lot to get used to-”

“You have no idea…” you cut off your mother, not even bothering to glance in her direction. Sadness was replaced with an eruption of aggression. You hid it, opting to clench your fist. Your jaw tightened so much that it ached.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Her voice was soft. You let out a soft sigh, nodding slowly. “I mean, you were so happy when you found out what high school he went to. Although, even the idea that you’re going to meet your soulmate won’t take away from the fact we’re leaving behind…” she paused, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

You finally tilted your head to look at her. Something swirled in the pit of your stomach and you reached out, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

There weren’t any more words needed between the two of you. It was easy.

Kyoutani woke up, running his hand through his short hair. That felt different than normal. He couldn’t explain it, not well, at least. And what had your mom said about meeting your soulmate? None of it made sense. Did you actually move to an entirely new place? Why?

It frustrated him more than it was worth.

----

Weeks passed and nothing.

Kyoutani had hoped for something, anything. There hadn’t even been a single sight of you in person. He saw you in his dreams; in class, your stare would be focused out of the window intently; you were quiet, rarely interacting with your classmates. You looked at them with such an indifference.

He loved the days when he could see you at home; you did your usual song and dance, but this time you had a small puppy at home. You’d shower it with endless affection. You didn’t seem to watch as much anime before - he even saw you studying sometimes - but the joy in his heart when he listened to you lazily sing an opening was unfiltered and so pure.

He still had yet to see your face, to hear your name.

At the start of volleyball practise, Oikawa announced that the team would be getting a manager - as long as things went well with them, that is. Most of them were confused, Kyoutani included, until Iwaizumi explained that unlike the others, and there had been so many others, this girl wasn’t interested in Oikawa in the slightest - in fact, she didn’t even know who he was. Kindaichi confirmed this, since she talked to him about this.

Out of nowhere, a girl appeared at the door, she seemed frazzled. Completely in a daze. By that point, Kyoutani had zoned out, choosing to focus on literally anything else.

He missed the looks she gave him the entire practise.

----

Sleep could not come sooner for him. He wondered what you were seeing right now, if you were even asleep; he wanted to know so badly what you thought of him, how you felt, he wanted to see your face. Just once. That was all, if he saw your face just once, he would be happy.

----

Time passed and still nothing. He hated it. He hated how close you were to him, yet how out of reach. Things didn’t change much. You were still as quiet as ever in class; you were still as loud as ever at home. He memorized each word you spoke like it was gospel, because what if you just happened to talk near him one day? How else was he supposed to recognise you if it weren’t for your voice?

He didn’t learn much about the new manager. She was quiet, too quiet. She agreed to things too quickly and acted like she would break. Because of that, everyone treated her like she was going to.

He had caught her staring at him a few times, something that pissed him off because he didn’t want her, he wanted his soulmate. Wherever she was…

If he were being honest, he’d really tried his hardest to find her. No one in particular caught his eyes. He searched every first year classroom several times a week to make sure that he had never missed anyone on any particular day, the idea that you could be somewhere else other than right there hurt him. He looked at the desk where you normally sat. Every time he went it was empty. It sucked.

Oikawa only noticed his mood get more foul as time went on - even managing to hold off on commenting about it considering how he looked like he might actually kill someone.

One night, during his dream, it felt like all the pieces finally fell together.

You stared down at the ground- were you wearing sneakers? -rubbing your thumbs together nervously. There was light conversation in the background. He couldn’t make out a lot of what was being said. Not until you stepped towards a bench, grabbing a vibrant yellow water bottle. “Thanks, L/N!” Kindaichi’s voice chimed, puffing out his chest. He was dripping with sweat.

You gave him a half smile before your eyes wandered around. This sight had become a typical one for you, watching the volleyball club running around and practising. Your eyes land on someone in particular and your heart races, although it doesn’t last long, not until he turns and meets your eyes, glaring.

Maybe you just had your hopes too high; he clearly wasn’t interested in having a soulmate. You turned your head away quickly. Giving him a side glance. “Oh Kyou…” you muttered, turning away.

Kyoutani shot up awake. Never had his body been more alert in the morning. The volleyball manager hadn’t just been some girl, but it had been you? All this time you never said a word to him about it, and he had just glared at you like you were nothing.

It made him sick. The idea that he had been hurting you.

Never had he rushed to get dressed faster. Never had he been so excited to go to school. His uniform was haphazardly tossed onto his body, he almost forgot his bag. Everything felt heightened. The wind was hitting his face harder than normal - that might’ve been because he was sprinting - the ache in his legs was nothing compared to the excitement in his heart. The closer he got to the gym, the more nervous he became.

“You’re here early…” Yahaba snickered - normally Kyoutani would have threatened the brunette, but not today. His eyes were almost frantic as he changed into his gym clothes, darting around like there was something big he was waiting for. Because there was something big he was waiting for. That was you. For you to finally appear. So that he-

“Good morning, L/N!” Kindaichi cheered towards the door of the gym, waving frantically at you. You smiled and offered him a small wave before yawning, glancing towards Kyoutani. When you met his eyes, you seemed to pause mid-yawn, tears building up in your eyes.

He walked over to you. Not really knowing what he was going to say. Not really knowing what he wanted to say. Just knowing that he needed to be next to you. To talk to you. To hear your voice again, right now, right in front of him.

When he stopped in front of you, you almost seemed scared, sucking in a deep breath and leaning back slightly. You averted your eyes, not wanting to upset him in any way. He didn’t move, not an inch. His eyes danced over you, examining every part of your face that he hadn’t been taking the time to examine. This was his first time actually seeing you.

“Beautiful…” it slipped out before he could do anything to stop it. A warmth rushed to your cheeks as you smiled awkwardly, looking away from him.

“Um… thank you… Kyou…” The look on your face could only be described as elated, even as you avoided his eyes, you knew he meant it.

All of the other members looked at you confused, trying to understand what Kyoutani had said that had made you so flustered. That was quickly washed away when he grabbed your chin, lifted your head up and smashed his lips against yours.

Your eyes shot open wide, body frozen before you seemed to collapse. His arm caught you, holding you against him with such a need that it was destroying you. When he pulled away, the gym erupted into screams.

“Took you long enough.” You muttered, gently punching his chest.

“I… I never saw your face before-”

“You see it every day?” You tilted your head.

“No. I mean… t-this…”

“Oh…” He didn’t need to explain. You knew exactly what he meant, “I don’t really like my own reflection. So I just… avoid it?” An awkward laugh slipped out.

“But you’re beautiful.” He caressed your cheek, such a softness in his eyes that you didn’t know he was capable of.

“Can someone explain what just happened?” Kindaichi yelled, eyes darting between both of you as you shared such a tender moment.

“That’s what a pair of soulmates looks like,” Oikawa mused, wrapping his arm around the first year, “well, at least she’s cute. Sucks she has such a… strange soulmate.”

Kyoutani slipped away and pounced on the setter.

You simply laughed at them.

After all this time, you’d finally met him.

--------

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[captainkurosolaire]

Prompt #27 ~ Warfare

♫Till I Die♫

The fall of Garlemald's effects ran-through out the realm suddenly the shift of power had been flipped over. As many of the countrymen deserted, or those scattered, were pursued. Now they understood what it was like to be the spoils to war. Hunter's turned to prey. A privateer ship supporting under the banner of the Crimson. Chased pursued in the open seas of an attempted escape, a remnant squadron. Their division shattered as their Empire was crumbling to dust. The divisional commander of her ship was taking huge mortar's although the sea-vessel was sturdy and advanced, was taking blows, her men were taking hefty causalities, hearing in screams. They couldn't flee from this. In the fang's of revenge, under the skies of war, monsters were born. The people who once felt were fighting for righteousness, become no-better. These Privateer's were rejoicing. "Commander. Two more alliance accompanying vessels of the opposition have ascended over waves, we've nowhere to go!" The morale of her people were descending. "We've deserved this outcome. It was an honor." Her sentimental tone, spoke they'd rather imperial salute each-other, and commit suicide before becoming prisoners. Right in their contemplated end. The shift was about to turn again.

"A third vessel had wedged between the middle of their reinforcements!" Was shortly called out, giving them further, resolve of hopelessness, before... "Wait. The middle-vessel is bombarding the others!" Suddenly a massive ship rising over tides, removing the fake red Maelstrom banner had been withdrawn into an iconic pirate flag hoisted. Upon the bow-spirit was a tricorne-man. Treading past the destruction of two smaller privateers vessels. The ambush assault left them fodder out-maneuvered. Gathered man, etched in warpaint, they were banned ready for a fight. To intervene between this naval battle. The Seeker leapt back to his decks to bolster. "I would ask ye my Crew, within my helm. T' PRAY for yer enemies. Give them an early moment of silence. For these poor unfortunate soul's will b' educated, they'll earn their red-coats upon this Sun!" He roared and screamed with a warrior shout That followed behind others. "Give Boy-Lad his sea-legs. Let him earn his stripes t' walk over bones!" A crippled and amputated legless fighter crawled on the floor in disbelief, as Sol made augmented prosthetic legs. Unified chaos positioned, to invade the vessel of the privateer from behind. "Aid th' carrier of Garlean's, give all others no-quarter!" Viciously a stampede of leaps was drawn, it was anarchy. Projectiles flung back and forth, sniper shots from the crow's nest of the Worldly Finder started picking off them. Each Crewmate nearly about to be butchered by an opposition was protected by another, they fought as sword and shield, and reversed the roles. Rallied by a leader who was believed-long-flung dead. The brute Seeker skirmishes an assortment of parries to one of the swashbucklers before pulling out a sheathed revolver in the other hand and angling it under his chin and pulling the trigger in a massacre. Completely butchery. Blood of not his own making savagely drew over his face. As he bellowed another victoriously battle-cry that kept even his own injuries gaining on Crew to fight-on. The Garlean's left their hunker, to unity in bewilderment anyone would fight under their behalf. The Captain was almost executed by an aimed shot musketeer but was shot back by an assault rifle of the imperialist. The buccaneer brought terrifying laughter. "THEIR NUMBERS ONLY GIVE US MORE HEADS T' ROLL!" Not only bolstering morality to his own fighters, but also was making hesitation and fear start wearying the grip's of his oppositions, a tactician of dirty behavior. How long have they gotten to do anything they wanted? Or used the excuse of the Garlemald for them to justify or blame their heinous antics? These seas held no discrimination. Yet being constantly corrupted. Putrid borders, barriers for entries, they started skewering Beast Tribes because they strictly took advantage of the Calamity. They put a price-tag on the seas, owning it. Law and restricting and it's no different than what Captain's seen before, they're vindictive and greed-coated. Yet unlike Garlemald who were openly wanting to conqueror, the Maelstrom and Grand Companies alike played fantasy pretend. They're unbeatable, the good! Couldn't do any wrongs, existed of no poison. Bullshit, in war there was no such thing. It's a contest of ego. How many times had the Captain seen a Maelstrom get promoted after they violated his kinsmen, while preaching they were pirates... How many times did he watch them do nothing as people plead in the dirty-alleys before a gal went abducted and missing. These seas would find freedom from vile. Disarray and unorganized, suddenly being attacked by two-sides, the privateer's were being annihilated. Counter measured every-time they brought their marine scholars out, their magic was cancelled by the Historian of the Goldbrand, the purest faith in the Twelve, who brought them no harm, other than silencing their spells. The God's weren't on their side, they belonged to this pirate. That fiendish outcast hound of an Xaela, who ghoulishly shrieked, was feasting on arm's while slewing them in beheaded messes. A Quartermaster

followed by impaling them and hurling the smaller runt's of the enemies. Captain leapt up off that mountain of a Hellsguard on his Crew and bounced off his shoulders dexterously onto the stern. Exchanging in runaways some jumping overboard. "Draw them from th' seas back up here! Their corpses is unworthy t' share with the benthos!" Angry swarming came to their noisy vocalized leader. If they could just behead that blasted vermin then all of them would crumble to despair. He played defensively and evaded one of them about to slayed, was sniped from afar. The handicapped soldier got a puncturing stab on one of the men to protect his Captain before collapsing as his new leg's were already damaged and punctured. The Seeker picked up the adrenaline as blood cut's were protruding from his cheek. He threw his coat onto one of them and jabbed a series of quick deft dirks. A swishing blade came again as he relied on his above-feline scents. The thing he was mocked for by these giants. Doing a handstand leg, disarm from twisting the wrist of the deathly aggressor. The Seeker rolled away and jumped off the stern and swung a leap into the cabin, where he saw the frantic Head-Captain of this enemy helm, run-into, gathering up belongings to attempt plotting retreat. Unexpectedly a flintlock shot at his leg making him fall over all his glistening golds and gil he was trying to rummage into a burlap sack like a coward trying to recollect himself. He brought his own gun out but was disarmed by the wrist from another firearm shot, "Cap'n Daniwyrn... Ye have lost your sense. Recall me." These two knew each-other full and well, this was more than just a one-sided squabble, now. It held harboring emotion. "...Yer supposed t' b' blimey dead!" The callus blood-thirsty Seeker lowered his arm. "Dead is what ye did t' someone I loved. Well, I got yer message. Ye saw t' remove her head cause she moved t' me. If you couldn't have her, neither ov' us could." He lectured in all this chaos-warfare and took a menacing seat. "See, I am not here for revenge on you. This goes beyond that. Now, ye made a crime, sin I find very offensive..." The sea-wolf tried regaining himself while trying to also slowly scoot his bottom and get back his disarmed gun. Knowing was about to be sentenced to a horrific death, or believed. "You have tainted these seas, Daniwyrn. The punishment fer losing your sense. Is crueler than death by my hand. It's t' live as such." He shot the ear's respectively of the privateer. Then the Seeker stood up. Fiendishly brought out his coeurl toothed carved dagger and carved out eye to eye from his enemy. While he was screaming in anguish and incomprehensible pain never able to reel back. He cut that tongue like a fleeting ribbon.

Taking the senses of someone who lacked senses firstly. A fitting treatment, barbarically exercised. He bathed in all the blood over his inferior feline frame. "I know you can't hear me, see, nor speak, though I'm also a nice-guy, I'll leave ye with yer gun... if get the opportunity you should kill yourself." He'd savagely trail, beating his enemy who barely was functioning, stuck in a haze, discombobulated, suffering severe blood-loss. Loading and priming the revolver with one bullet, he'd force it into the arm's of his blind foe and make him squeeze it. Captain walked out as if this was just a regular circumstance. The duty of returning. Closing the cabin door. Hearing a procedure gun-shot ring-throughout. A signal was overhead horned, "They've got more crimson reinforcements!" The battle sizzled and the sparks were over. "Let us gather up, plunder post-haste. Burn this shite down." They took the Garlemald survivors and retreated, licking wounds but won victorious.

[kitsu-katsu]

On kiribaku becoming canon and their evidence:

So I posted this on reddit earlier, but wanted to have it here where more KRBK shippers are, since I just ended up compiling a lot more than I thought I would.

Fair warning: A pretty big text with a compilation of kiribaku moments ahead.

We would all love kiribaku being canon, and I think it's not as much of a longshot as some may lead you to believe.

Honestly, if one of them was a girl, this would most certainly be canon, like, just in the anime we have:

Them becoming friends slowly in the background, leaving us with good development between them that is so seamless it can hit you hard once you notice how close they've become if you hadn't noticed before.

Them arriving and leaving the pool together while walking in the sunset.

They support and compliment each other (both on personality and quirks, like come on).

Kirishima can just lean on Bakugou or side hug him all the time and Bakugou lets him with no problem, which considering who we're talking about is a pretty big thing.

Kirishima can seem even more agitated than Deku about Bakugou being taken, and Deku is the one who idolized him since childhood.

The whole "It has to be you" thing and the precious hand holding (including that little scene after the rescue, where Kiri tries to grab Baku's hand again).

Kirishima bought expensive night vision googles in case they were useful for the rescue even though they had Yaomomo with them (this boy goes through extremes just to ensure his boyfriend's best friend's safety)

Kirishima is officially the one Bakugou considers an equal, and considering his conflicting inferiority and superiority complexes (making him perpetually place people as above him or beneath him) is vital information.

Kirishima is esentially Bakugou's first real friend (as Deku was considered more of an incomprehensible nuisance and his childhood troop seemed more like his followers who just put him up on a pedestal and followed what he did).

Kirishima has jumped in front of danger for Bakugou's sake quite a bit of times (including a time in the movie).

Kirishima is a central piece in Bakugou's character development.

Bakugou was the one who told Kirishima he was strong and gave him his confidence back, reminding him of what he said at the start of their friendship.

Kirishima unlocked fucking UNBREAKABLE because of Bakugou's encouragement.

Going to extra stuff:

Bakugou's favourite hobbie is hiking, and we're shown he takes Kirishima with him sometimes, thing he doesn't seem to do with other characters.

The whole festival thing, with the narrator outright assuming Bakugou must have given his coat to a pretty girl who was cold, only for it to be revealed in another picture that he gave it to Kirishima because as usual, he didn't have a shirt on.

On the movie Bakugou could have taken anyone to I-Island and took Kirishima as his plus one. They share a room. Kirishima bought suits for both of them, with the most detailed one with white roses being for Bakugou, and they decide to go to the party together.

In a BNHA Smash connected directly to the movie, Midoriya notices the white roses in Bakugou's suit and notes that they mean deep respect and "I'm the one for you", which prompts Bakugou to send an explosion his way (not to Kirishima who gave him the suit, mind you), which makes the flowers turn red (from blood), after which Mineta appears to say that red roses mean "beautiful and passionate love".

They are usually seen together in merch stuff.

There's this tumblr post talking about japanese fan's reactions to one of Horikoshi's drawings which I find at least hilarious:

https://exbrodokills.tumblr.com/post/187710597637/here-it-is

There are discussions regarding Kirishima's character sheet and the translation of him liking "tough guys" (here's a podt by aitaikimochi explaining the meaning of the translation: https://www.google.com/amp/s/aitaikimochi.tumblr.com/post/171127708911/amp) where even translator such as aitaikimochi have gotten into, and they have mentioned that there's a japanese stereotype of a type of gay guy who is obsessed with "manly behaviour" and usually stay away from women, prefering tough guys instead, which is interesting to say the least.

Some of the light novel episodes which show more slice of life moment feature some good kiribaku moments, with a prominent one being this one wich details their study date (it seriously seems like fan fiction, not even kidding, and this is supposed to be sort of canon):

https://www.google.com/amp/s/aitaikimochi.tumblr.com/post/171236111166/amp

Also there's a chapter where Kirishima tells Fatgum about Bakugou being extremely happy, and another one where they are arm wrestling between classes and they cheer for one another heavily.

(Honesly, just go through aitaikimochi's whole kiribaku tag, there are some pretty interesting things there)

Here are some analysis on their possible coding, if you guys are interested:

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1dxO6Y0yK_wxOJDmRsBYvsVWKwsH7tKc92skxJ--R1m4/edit?usp=drivesdk

(Bakugou's one link can be found at the end of that one)

And in BNHA Smash, there are quite a lot of things, and we must not forget that the whole thing still gets approved by Horikoshi before being published, some of my favourite things are:

Kirishima inviting Bakugou to spend christmas together, with the translators noting christmas in Japan to be a romantic holiday in the same panel.

In one issue, Jirou falls for Kiri and him being oblivious just leaves her for Bakugou.

Once Bakugou becomes a shoujo boy after being his with a quirk and just involuntarily talks in flirt, and in one moment Kirishima outright flirts back.

Bakugou works his ass off to repay Kirishima for the night vision googles they used in the rescue.

Kirishima is literally described as the chicken soup for Bakugou's soul!

An interesting thing I found out is that in the chapter where all of 1A minus Bakugou turn into animals, one scene originally had Kirishima (as a dog) getting jealous of Kaminari and Midoriya petting Tsuyu (as a cat - yes I know, a cat) and giving all their attention to her, however, Horikoshi himself changed that scene, noting he didn't think their character relations worked well in that scene, and made it so that the one that ended up in smash contains Kirishima (as a dog) getting jealous because Todoroki (as a koala) has climbed up Bakugou's torso and won't let go. I saw this all in a tumblr post a few months ago, which showed the original scene in a book (I think it was in italian and was translates below) but I can't currently find the link, sorry, if someone finds it, It'd be appreciated if you could reblog with said link.

And in regards to meta stuff, the show already has some LGBT characters in it, with Magne and Tiger being trans and Toga being bisexual, so it's not as much of a lost cause to hope for this as it would initially seem.

(Please kirimina shippers, don't take offence because of this, it isn't my intention to insult your ship, I simply want to analize what has been given to us, so please try to take this lightly):

We should also take into consideration Krishima's first version in the sort of "beta" for the manga (where Midoriya was Yamikumo).

His character sheet mentions he's quite the delinquent and entered UA to impress a girl. Obviously his character evolved tremendously since then, but the girl was most probably intended to be Mina's equivalent. This was later changed to him liking "tough guys"/"hard liners" and his thing with Mina became more of an "I admired your bravery and heroic spirit when in middle school even if I hardly knew you", later seeing each other and establishing more of a little friendship. However, it hasn't really moved further from there, and Kirishima has already established much stronger bonds with our favourite exploding boy. All changes in characters are made for a reason, and Horikoshi clearly changed his mind on Kirishima's motives for wanting to be a hero and his relationship with Mina.

So yeah, all in all, this ship is great, it's precious, adorable, helps both characters grow, is balanced and has good chemistry. So even if after all these things they don't become officially canon, we still have so much canon material for them in the present I'd honestly still be happy, these dorks make me smile and melt my heart, so I hope they both have good endings.

[shijas]

touched-starved megumi slowly being acclimatised to touch really lives rent free in my head.

like, his childhood was pretty all over the place, and he clearly spent middle school getting into fights and straight up brooding, so it’s make sense for touch in megumi’s mind to be associated with strength and violence and pain and vulnerability, the latter two things would especially be hard for megumi to live with i think???? i don’t really know how to explain??? but like we see that uncontrolled vulinerabilty, and leaving yourself vulnerable is like putting yourself on a wanted list for shamans. and so touch, in megumi’s eyes, should only occur with a few specific purposes and those purposes usually weren’t the most pleasant experiences in his mind. i assume people only touched him for: training/sparring, which is literally allocated time when someone can just straight up, inflict harm; someone deciding to fight him out of jealousy or revenge or fear or some sort of negative emotion; and in the worst case scenario people are touching him to heal him because in some capacity he’s weak, he was not strong enough to do whatever he needed to do without injury. i think healing touches, when the touch has to be gentle because fundamentally megumi is already vulunerable and already hurting would sting the most, like emotionally and physically because sometimes touch, even gentle touch, do he hurting tho... (this got long, but for how nobara/yuji break this pattern keep reading!)

and then nobara and yuji arrive and it’s like a hurricane of positive touching. yuji is affectionate!! physical touch is definitely a part of his love languages and so yuji just enjoys giving hugs!! yuji likes high fives!! and fist bumps!! and holding hangs while swinging them in the space between eachother while walking, even though it’s kind of childish. and megumi doesn’t know how to say no to these things, to the boundless enthusiasm that is yuji!! and he also feels a little guilty because he kinda dragged yuji into this world, away from his friends and the familiar comfort/touch he was used too. so megumi doesn’t like, consciously, try to stop any of the touch despite his general aversion. instead he indulges yuji to the best of his ability, because he comes to find that it’s not always bad and he doesn’t really mind; it takes a while to fully like not have a defensive, fight or flight response to the touches and he defo judo flips and sucker punches yuji over and over, because yuji is 1000000% a sneak affection attacker. the closest touch has ever been to ‘nice’ for megumi is probably healing for his stupid amount of serious wounds, and as both an apology and his first steps in reciprocation, megumi applies the gentleness of healing touches he remembers to the injuries he (accidentally??) gives yuji, because all he really about touch that isn’t supposed to hurt is how to rub softly against a spot that will probably bruise, and how to wrap or plaster a cut from a judo flip that led to some scrapes, he’s very good at icing bumps and twists and strains; and so they put themselves back together like that, and yuji keeps up his ‘surprise back hug events’ like they don’t straight up lead to a bruised sternum.

nobara breaks down the ‘touch is violence, touch is pain and pain is bad’-thing even faster than yuji, because she’s lived by her philolosphy as an affectionate puncher, a sweet kicker; she’s defo the type to bite your fingers and pinch your arm, but it’s well and truly out of all the love she cannot contain in her heart (which frustrates her a little bit so she will give you a sharp jab in retribution for feelings). what helps uncross the wires of megumi’s learnt behaviour (or maybe cross them idk) that ‘touch and violence and therefore bad’, is that her teasing and, honestly barely painful, ribbing is always interspersed by the softest of touches that aren’t tinged by the smell of antiseptic, blood or pity. this type of touch gets more frequent the more comfortable they get with eachother (think learning to lean on eachother post yuji death), like nobara will say ‘ew’ while forcing megumi to lay his head in her lap when they’re tryna catch their breath during training, and if his towel is nearby she’ll pat the sweat off his forehead and then complain about said sweat just because she knows he likes listening to her complain about mundane stuff; and she’ll make a million and one spiky sea urchins puns (did you know the japanese word for urchin is uni and linguistically meguni is a hilarious pun that i can see happening in canon) but is the first to rake her fingers through the mess of megumi’s hair, if she noticed he’s tried and hasn’t been taking care of himself. like yeah she throws her pens at him when he tries to help her with their maths homework, but her aim is so scary good it’s funny, and he can always throw them back and she won’t really get any more angry, and so they throw pens at eachother and laugh about it and nobara sketches random patters on to megumi’s skin with the pen she almost used to impale his eye.

anyway the point i’m getting at (probably incomprehensible into this mess of hc and meta) is: yuji and nobara come along, and suddenly, touch isn’t something that burns a little, isn’t something that spooks, isn’t something that requires the tightening of megumi’s jaw and his ribs and his spirit, and of course, sometimes it gets a little overwhelming (WHICH IS OKAY!! TOUCH AS STIMULATION IS OVERHWELMING SOMETIMES AND THATS OKAY AND VALID, EVEN IF YOURE AN AFFECTIONATE OR TOUCHY PERSON!!) and megumi needs to like take a couple of steps back. and they talk about it, because communication is key, and boundaries are healthy things to put in place, and by god the first years will try and build as safe and healthy a relationship between the three of them as they possibly can! and yeah they talk about it, and some days touch is too much for of them and that’s okay, affection, fondness, compassion can be shown in other ways, through other actions and they’ll utilise those a bit more as easily as they utilise touch a bit less, and slowly but surely, megumi becomes a lot less touch-starved and starts to seek it out on his own and initiate it in ways that are comfortable to him, like learning to braid hair so he can play with nobara’s or grabbing yuji’s hand first while their walking or just pressing his thigh into whoever he’s sitting next to in class and that’s fine and that’s good!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and i’m very much attached to this idea.

bonus gojo (as per usual): when megumi became his ward, for obvious, bitter, reasons he wasn’t really tryna like touch. this kid. riling megumi up was easy enough with just words and i feel like firstly, teasing is a part of gojo’s love language in a mirror of how it’s a part of nobara’s (mmmmmmm gojo and nobara parallels are another brain worm that EATS me) and secondly, gojo goes through his own thing with touch, and like affection. as someone whose essentially raised on an absolutely, ridiculous, pedestal and then successfully surpasses even the heights of that pedestal to basically become a living legend AND the whole physical, literal thing with infinity or limitless (or whatever his cursed technique is i’m sorry i didn’t pay attention to the cursed energy explanation any of the times it came up) ANYWAY, so gojo and megumi probably both touch-starved idiots. but, like gojo does care for megumi, like as his student and as this kid he watched grow up, like ofc he does because he’s not a completely useless person. and so he definitely encourages nobara and yuji’s plan to positively reinforce touch in megumi’s brain and slowly, for fear of being straight up bitten, endeavours to extend the casual affection he easily applies to the other two, to megumi too. idrk the logistics of it, but i think it’d be cute for one day gojo putting his hand out to ruffle megumi’s hair, but like not imposing his hand, like it’s just out and about really, and usually megumi nopes or hisses or whatever other gremlin mood he’s decided to incorporate to the finite number of facial expressions he’s willing to make, but today he’s feeling charitable and lets gojo ruffle his hair, kinda like a cat ya know, like leans into it a bit in a very clear you have permission to pet!!!! and gojo’s just jojo sobbing through his blindfold like “oh my god my son loves me” and megumi is regretting not biting him.

[iamdeku]

Broken Ribs and Whole Hearts

Description: A Deku x Reader where the reader is a nurse who finds an unexpected guest in her emergency room. A continuation of this post.

Warnings: Descriptions of injury/some light gore. Talk of painkillers administered by a medical professional. Fluff.

It was safe to say that when you woke up this morning you weren’t expecting to find the life of the number one hero in your hands.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t worked with heroes before. You had plenty of experience with them, since they had a way of getting themselves hurt. That being said, you’d never worked with this particular hero before, and you were a little bit starstruck.

You wouldn’t call yourself a fan of Deku, but you weren’t not a fan. You saw him on the news all the time, but that was virtually impossible to avoid since he seemed to find his way onto every crime scene. If there was someone who needed help, Deku was there.

Right now though, he was here, bleeding out.

You had heard about the fight from your coworkers. It was hard to avoid hearing about a battle on that scale when you worked in a hospital. You had already been getting civilians in for treatment, but the heroes came last and were, naturally, priority since their injuries tended to be far more severe. Deku was no exception to this rule, and when he was rushed through the doors you were quick to fill your empty hands, not even realizing who he was until you went to assess the patient.

You jolted back a little bit in surprise, seeing the shock of green hair and bleary green eyes peering up at you. In your moment of surprise leaning over him, he cracked a blood-smeared smile.

“Are you an angel?” He asked softly.

“He’s delirious from the blood loss,” you declared, quickly getting to work surveying the rest of the damage. “Several cracked ribs, and I think he may have punctured a lung.”

As you continued to rattle off instructions and commentary, Deku continued staring at you. You, unwittingly, had become his lifeline. He kept his eyes open out of sheer desire not to look away from you. You were so capable, not faltering once after your initial shock. He was in awe of you.

Eventually, Deku was rushed into the operating room, and then he had no choice but to go under. When he woke up though, lo and behold, it was you there, checking his vitals and adjusting some things.

He opened his dry mouth, preparing his cracked voice to speak. “Well if it isn’t the prettiest nurse in all of Musutafu.” 

You jump slightly, not having expected him to wake up. You fidget with your hands, a nervous habit.

“Oh, hello Deku. You’re awake. How are you feeling?”

“I’ve been worse.” Deku would have shrugged, but he knew from experience that would make things worse.

He turned his eyes to the rest of the hospital room, taking a look around. He was in a standard hospital gown, which he joked was his “back-up uniform”. An IV fed drugs into his arm as necessary, and he knew he must be on some pretty good pain killers if the slightly hazy feeling in his head and the warm confidence in his chest were any indication. 

“So, any chance you’ll go out on a date with me?” he asked.

You stiffen in surprise, but then grin teasingly at him. “Wow, the morphine is talking pretty loud today, huh? Who knew the number one hero was such a light-weight? Maybe I should lower your dosage.”

Deku winced. “Please don’t. I have a high pain tolerance, but not that high.”

Your beautiful smile turned to a look of concern.

“Are you in any pain right now?”

Deku quickly shook his head, which actually did cause him some pain from the force of the movement. 

“I’m fine. Just keep doing what you’re doing. It’s working great.” He smiled encouragingly at you.

You visibly relaxed from where you stood by his bedside.

“Okay, well just let me know if you need anything, okay? I’m sure you know the drill, but you can just press this button right here for help.” You showed him where it was.

“Any chance I can get your number before you go?” He asked hopefully, unwittingly throwing you into cardiac arrest.

“I will take away your painkillers, Mr. Midoriya,” you threatened over your shoulder as you walked out.

Little did either of you know it, but Izuku was going to be spending a lot more time with you. His tendency to get injured on your shifts almost made you believe he was doing it on purpose. You asked him once when he was drugged up, but he would admit to nothing, only giving you a slightly loopy smile before falling asleep.

Once he was settled into his hospital rooms though, he made no secret of it. He would blatantly request you, or rather, “the prettiest nurse in Musutafu.”

“You know I have a name right?” you asked, looking at his chart like you didn’t have it basically memorized.

“Yes, I just happen to think this more fitting. I can stop if it bothers you though.” 

Suddenly your confident hero had turned into a Christmas tree, whole face from the neck up turning red as a cherry. Feeling a desperate need to sooth him, you hurriedly corrected yourself.

“No, this is fine! I mean, I can’t really complain, can I?”

“Pretty sure you just did,” he teased.

You two continued on in this way until you would nearly consider yourself friends with the hero. In fact, you had started a routine of eating lunch with each other after an incident where you had both been in the hospital cafeteria at the same time and had sat together. Since then you had repeated the encounter a few times, though never exactly on purpose. You had even gone to dinner with him once, just as friends, to some fancy new restaurant he claimed to need a date to, since eating alone was ‘boring’. You had grown into a comfortable rhythm with him over time, and then it happened.

It was the first rain of the season, and you had your window open to let in the smell. You were peacefully making some soup in your kitchen on your night off. Your gray sweats clung to your hips, comfy t-shirt wrapping you up under the warm lighting of your cozy kitchen. The cheerful paint of the walls beamed at you as you swayed softly, humming along to the song on the radio.

All of your peace was shattered the moment Deku fell through your window, hand clutching his side, at the exact same moment your tea kettle screamed at you. You quickly moved it off the heat, nearly sloshing water onto your usually steady hands before rushing across the room to your fallen hero.

“Izuku!” you gasped, turning him over on the floor.

He smiled up at you, not looking nearly as concerned as he should be.

“Hi.”

“Why are you here? You should be in a hospital.”

“I just wanted to see you.” He reached up to cup your cheek in his warm, broken hand.

“You can’t be here Izuku. You’re hurt.”

“You’re my nurse. You’ll take care of me.”

He smiled at you with so much faith it cracked something in your chest. An overflowing font of affection for this man, this hero, welled up in you, begging to be let out. You thought of every time you had seen him broken, the implicit trust he had in you to piece him back together. To take care of him. 

You swallowed down your tears, mirroring the smile on his face, trying to be as brave as he was. “You have a stab wound in your side. It doesn’t look too deep, but you still need serious medical attention.”

“It’s just a scratch.”

He was staring at you, those deep green eyes brushing up against your soul, flirting with your deepest secrets, dancing around the unspoken truths weighing down your tongue, things you both knew. Things neither of you could say, as far as you were concerned, but Izuku Midoriya had always had an open heart and a loose tongue, and so he said them slow and easy, honey slipping through his teeth and coating his cracked lips.

“Kiss me.” 

“That...that wouldn’t be very ethical of me.” Despite your words you are leaning in, nose brushing his.

It is not a demand, not a question, not a request. It is a gasping, haunting, wavering plea, he is begging and you are teetering on the edge of a cliff you wouldn’t admit existed until you were borderline tumbling off of it.

"Can I...?"

This time it is a question, and you find yourself drawn into him. He is the Jupiter to your Io, and you are lost to a constellation, entwined in your own milky way. Your shadow blends into his, pressed flat against the grain of your wood floors, as your lips whisper against his. It is barely a touch, just a taste of what is to come, but it is all the permission he needs.

He surges forward to kiss you, and it is something foreign, something incomprehensible as he catches you with his chapped lips. He tastes of bitter, salty blood as the rush of his breath fills you, slipping down your throat and curling through your lungs. You have never done this before, never felt whatever is warping the planes of your chest and the contours of your heart. It is as though you have met yourself in him.

It is a ravaging sort of feeling, even though the kiss itself is achingly soft, heartbreakingly slow. He is so gentle with you, as though you are the breakable one here, when in fact you have had to put him back together too many times to count. You allow it though, you allow it because you have seen firsthand how Izuku Midoriya’s large, scarred hero hands touch everything with this sort of gentle kindness, a piece of his heart slipping through the spaces between his knuckles and digging into the pads of his fingertips. 

When you pull away it is slowly, reluctantly, a smile taking over your face. Izuku's smile matches yours, his eyes sparkling as he reaches up to brush a thumb across your lip, a light laugh escaping him. It is this action that brings you back to yourself, snaps you out of your haze as his thumb streaks blood across the swell of your mouth. Your body jerks back away from him suddenly, and worry flickers over his face.

"Izuku Midoriya! How dare you distract me like that! Did you think I wouldn't take you to the hospital if you kissed me?"

He has the nerve to look a little guilty.

"I don't need to go, really. It will just inconvenience them."

You grind your teeth. "We. Are. Going."

And over time, Izuku learns that eventually, all roads lead to the hospital. Because all roads lead to you.

[illfoandillfie]

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

[cashewally-sarcastic]

It is hku’s 6th month anniversary, and it’s been a growing theme (tradition?) that I tend to write essays for said occasion, most of them being jokes. But instead, today I present a different kind of essay, one that isn’t written as a joke for once. This is an essay focusing on the grey morality of hku, and focuses on Siv as the example of said grey morality. Because of this, I do have to warn that there are major story spoilers ahead, so if you haven’t read hku or aren’t caught up to current events, I would recommend not reading this! This essay isn’t going anywhere, and spoiling yourself isn’t a very fun experience!

With that disclaimer out of the way, the essay (as per usual) is under the cut! Enjoy!

~~~

The Grey Morality of HKU

We live in a world that is not purely black and white, but instead many different shades of grey. Writing greyness into stories is difficult, especially when trying to create morally ambiguous characters, which is why most character conflicts in fiction is black and white. Moral greyness in characters is a very thin tightrope to balance on, since such characters fall in between heroes and villains, and bring layers of depth and complexity into the world. Most humans are not purely good or evil, and morally grey characters showcase this well. These characters can be incredibly complicated, and thus, it's difficult for authors to commit and stay on their tightrope. Sometimes they lean too far to one side and their intended moral greyness gets destroyed. But in Hyrule Kingdom Updates, or HKU, Quill not only walks this tightrope with ease, but does backflips on it and performs a whole circus act with their characters mimicking the same routine. One of these talented tightrope-walkers that performs in such a circus act is Asivus Hartell, better known as Siv. 

Siv is one of the main examples of the grey morality of HKU. He’s the sarcastic, pessimistic orator that serves as the role of the narrator for the story.  Introduced as a psychological egoist, or someone who believes that everyone’s actions are derived out of personal interest, his personality, attitude, and actions all reek of the scent of “villain”. He’s cynical, hates almost everyone in the castle, and is also a criminal. Over time, his egoist beliefs are slowly challenged, and when his ties to the people who challenge his egoist morals are cut, his egoism goes even further downhill, leading him to become a utilitarian existentialist.

Utilitarian existentialism is hard to properly define, as there is no clear-cut definition. It is the combination of two different philosophies, utilitarianism and existentialism. Utilitarianism is the belief that actions are right if they are useful or for the benefit of a majority; if it provides the greatest amount of good for the greatest number of people, it’s the right thing to do. Existentialism is the belief that there are no set morals for life and no specific meaning to life— people are free to create their own meaning and define their own existence. Utilitarian existentialism is the combination of these two beliefs, and Siv falling into this moral belief can lead to its own opportunities, both for the plot and for himself.

Siv, by the dictionary definition, is a villain. One of the core beliefs he holds, mostly thanks to his egoism, is that everyone is a terrible, selfish person except for him and Ganon. This is not only harmful to the rest of the population because of the possibility of the Calamity being revived, but it’s harmful to Siv as well. Thinking everyone is bad except for the entity that’s weaponizing your malice, or manipulating your trauma, is not the most healthy thing. In addition, as the readers, we can see things from multiple perspectives, and therefore know that not everyone is a terrible or selfish person. By seeing these multiple perspectives and knowing these things, we root against Siv and his goal of resurrecting the Calamity, for his view of the world and the people in it is flawed. Siv succeeding in his objective wouldn’t be good for anyone, including himself. If this was Siv’s only belief, it would be more of a clear-cut black and white story, and Siv would just be a villain. However, that is not the case.

The other core belief Siv believes is one that Astor leads him to: Getting rid of all the terrible, selfish people in the world is the morally correct thing to do, as the kingdom would be a better place and he’d finally be happy. “Defeating the evil in the kingdom will make everything end up good” is a mindset that many stereotypical heroes share. This is the belief in the stories of many people’s childhoods, and people root for them because it’s usually correct in the context of said story. There’s nothing fundamentally wrong with Siv’s belief; he does have a point and does deserve to be happy. Furthermore, most of the problem causers in Hyrule would be gone, preventing all the hurt and trauma all the characters have to cope with from happening again. For example, getting rid of Ligero is something the entire reader-base has been cheering for since the old man was first introduced. It would be satisfying to see people such as those face consequences for their actions, and as readers, we like satisfying endings. Unfortunately, the problem is that Siv believes everyone is bad except him and Ganon, so he’d be getting rid of everyone, and effectively resurrecting the Calamity, something that devastated the kingdom and brought a massive amount of death, in the process. Taking that into account, you wouldn’t want Siv to succeed. And as a bonus, killing anyone and everyone he could possibly care about in any capacity would not be good for his already crumbling mental state. All of this creates a mental tug-of-war  in the reader’s head, because they're rooting for Siv to succeed but also hoping that Siv will fail. Is he in the right? No, because not everyone is a bad person and killing everyone by raising the Calamity isn't ever the right thing to do. But is he in the wrong? Also no, because utilitarianism isn't inherently bad, neither is existentialism, and the moral principle itself can have good intentions. Quill writes Siv to be a very complex character with no absolute right or wrong mentality. There’s no surface answer to if Siv is correct in his thinking or not, as this moral greyness goes a lot deeper than the surface level you see within the dialogue.

Siv walks upon the same morally grey tightrope that we, the readers, fight ourselves over within our own mental game of tug-of-war. His moral ambiguity is a huge part of his characterization, as well as a major highlight on the plot of HKU as a whole. The picture Quill painted is not only in multiple shades of grey, but also full of color and life. And out of all the shades of grey Quill used in their masterpiece, one of the most interesting shades is Siv. Quill did an excellent job at exploring this moral greyness and it shows well; you can truly see the care that they put into Siv as a character through how he affects the world around him. The kingdom of Hyrule is not made of black and white, but instead, is painted in multiple shades of grey that reflect our own world within itself, since nothing is as simple as it seems. 

~~~

Want to read more about Siv’s morals? Quill wrote an in-depth explanation themselves, and does a much better job of explaining it than I do, so I recommend reading it if that peaks your interest! Click HERE to be sent to that post! (also major spoilers, so be warned)

~~~

Now, since you got to the bottom of this post, and because I might be a little too polite, I need to give some thank-yous to a handful of people.

The first thank-you is to Rev (@swordlesbianss) for giving me the push I needed to actually write this thing! You pretty much kept me accountable for getting this done by mentioning your essay (which I look forward to reading when it’s ready, take your time), so thank you, Rev! You definitely got me to actually start writing the original version of this essay, and caused me to write it to where it is now!

The second thank-you is to Aura (@auroraborealis1890) who beta read the first draft of this essay! You made sure it wasn’t completely incomprehensible, thank you so much Aura! By being able to read it at all, you were a huge help to what was essentially a crazy person’s ramblings. You’re a great friend and I’m very grateful you read my first draft of bullshit <3

The third thank-you is a huge one to Bunny (@bunnywabbit229) who polished up this essay! All of the tone, spell checks, and really beautiful analogies were proofread by Bunny, some invented by them! They took a good 5+ hours out of their day and made this little rock of an essay become the shining diamond it is! I could point out so many things that they made better, but I don’t want to gush for too long. Bunny, I know I already told you this but if I could buy you a large brownie pizza, I would because you helped so much and I appreciate it so much!

The final thank-you is to Quill, the author of @hyrule-kingdom-updates, who made the inspiration for this essay. You have made such a wonderful story that’s rich with so many amazing characters and astounding worldbuilding. You made a masterpiece that inspired an essay of over 1000 words and I’m in awe. You truly deserve to know how wonderful your writing is and all the effort you’ve put into your characters and story is not going unnoticed. So thank you so much for putting your story out into the world, Quill.

[exploding-carrots]

I’ve been wanting to draw or write out my ‘future’ Bottom ideas for a while but haven’t gotten around to it. So here’s a long post of some head canons and a general story line of them vaguely developing as people at some point set after the live shows. If anything this is just sort of my personal AU for the characters getting together. Mostly focused on the progression of Richie and Eddies relationship and my thoughts on both of them being trans

- They’re both trans, (a lot of Ades characters give me trans dudes vibes but that is 70% me wanting to time travel and body swap w the man) Eddie is a bi trans dude (who medically transitioned young, but is not necessarily out as either) and Richie is a closeted/repressed bi trans woman who begins to come to terms w it during the whole island era

- Richie is also intersex, which while yeah is sort of canon in a mean way, is sort of important to me for the character 🤭 However she is not aware of the fact

- Eddie is dyslexic and has ADHD which both contribute to him struggling on and off (which was really just a gag they went with when funny) with reading/writing depending on how well he can focus on it at any given time (example: the Edies Bra sign vs the grave stone). I am not even going to attempt to say what is going on w Richie but the woman is a mess of unresolved issues and trauma complications

- After everything they go through in the live shows they do somehow make it back to the flat which is unexplainably the exact way they left it.

- Every single joke about Richie going off and fucking dudes from the live show is taken as fact. It is the most poorly kept secret amongst the cast. They literally do not talk about it unless Eddie is trying to make a point or piss off Richie

- Eventually Eddie IS trying to piss off Richie and does bring up everything about her sex life and the clothes, and... well everything else. After a ridiculous fight it somehow turns into an almost semi-serious conversation. Eddie makes the assumption that Richie is gay and Richie counters with the fact that she is genuinely interested in women but it’s a hell of a lot easier to get attention from specific types of men. Gets some wheels turning in both of their heads

- Personality wise they never really calm down, but they do start to slow down a little bit as it takes them longer and longer to recover from their fights. Obviously there is still the odd dart to the forehead or gentle push down the stairs but the ridiculous games and completions they make up take center stage

- they get weed at some point (Dave Hedgehog and Spudgun seems like a feasible source, because let’s be honest if Richie and Eddie tried to buy weed it would not work) that leads to all sorts of embarrassment because Eddie gets crossfaded as all get out and starts hitting on Richie. Which while having a precedent in their history (I mean, the first episode gives us that right away) takes on a new sort of meaning once the concept of bisexuality has been rolling around in their heads. Nothing particularly saucy happens at this point Bc they are high, drunk, and old but all of the actual acknowledgement of feelings start to really develop after this point

- in an attempt to do something with her time Richie picks up sewing and picks up where she left off with the wrap skirt and rubber underwear she made on the island. Starts to really develop the little wardrobe she wears when she’s alone. It’s a mix of the same awful button up shirts she always wears and some dresses and skirts along with a couple pairs of sexier (for Richie at least) under garments

- eventually Eddie comes home while Richie is still in her feminine clothing. Eddies Reaction is different from the first time he saw her dressed up that way since now there is a precedent. Eddies approach is much more “playful teasing” and fake surprise than it was previously.

- Slowly Richie starts dressing up around the flat more and more often as opposed to just when alone. Eddie ramps up with the pet names and husband/house wife dynamic they already had going on.

- THE MOMENT is when Eddie is leaving the flat to go to the bar and there is an ‘accidental’ kiss on the cheek along with his usual good byes. Eddie realizes what has happened immediately and bolts before Richie can say anything. Richie has a moment of “teehee that was nice” still in her little fucking house wife head space before it catches up w her.

- Richie panics, paces around the flat, gets changed like 8 times, cooks dinner, throws it away, takes it out of the trash, paces more, breaks like 8 things, and essentially just fluctuates between “Ooo Eddie fancies me” to “oh fuck the bastard is making fun of me again” to “it was an accident and Eddie is going to make it into a fight” back to “ooo Eddie fancies Me~”

- eventually Eddie comes home, pissed to hell and back way later than he’d normally come home. Richies passed out on the couch. Eddie wakes her up by pushing her over on the couch so he can sit. Eddie says something along the lines of “I’m fucking drunk so I’m only going to say this one” before saying some incomprehensible drunken rambling and pulling Richie into an awkward full kiss. It’s a nice moment for maybe about 5 seconds before he stands up again, pulls a pint out of his jacket, chugs it and says something about drunkenly passing out before doing just that across the coffee table.

- Richie just sort of gawks at Eddie sleeping across the table before giddily tossing a blanket over him and heading off to actually go to bed.

- relationship wise this really just sort of introduces a sexual/physical dynamic to their relation while ramping up their camp version of domestic life

- it’s Spudgun and Dave Hedgehog who actually say something to Eddie about it. They’ve always been in on the “oh look, it’s Eddies terrifying wife” thing. Probably only actually say something about it after the 2nd or 3rd actual display of physical affection they witness. It’s more of one of them asking Eddie if Richie really is his wife (in that half aware sort of way they observe things). This alone doesn’t change much, but it does takes a lot to get through to any of these repressed bastards

- Richie grows accustomed to the more feminine/soft pet names that Eddie uses for her. At one point Eddie uses more traditionally masculine terms which sets off “oh actually I am not a fan of that” in Richies head and leads her to asking Eddie to not refer to her that way. Leads to an awkward half coming out on Richies part. Eddie does genuinely switch up how he refers to Richie at this point and her gender just sort of becomes an silent fact that they both respect. Everyone else sort of knows them as those weirdos who have some sort of common law marriage going on and it’s not really questioned. This is the point where Richie starts to earnestly medically transition without really saying to much about, canonically she has been on estrogen pills before (even if it was a ‘mistake’)

- End game is essentially just them being casual about their identities and relationships in a unspoken sort of “well that’s just how it is” way that naturally sort of bleeds into a the other aspects of their lives.

- Additional note on Eddie being trans: Richie is already vaguely aware of this fact Bc obviously they’ve been seen what the other is working with at one point or another but the fact that she is unaware that she herself is intersex and has a skewed sort of idea about genitals and peoples bodies Richie genuinely does not think about it all too much. Eddie assumes that she knows, especially as they get older and casually refers to being trans (in my mind probably during the entire “Edwina” disguise thing. I imagine Eddie wearing the dress came down to the clothing size and some off hand comment about him “having experience”, which is total shit Bc even before he transitioned Eddie never presented that way). That’s probably around the point that things start to click in Richies head about Eddies identity and she starts comparing and contrasting Eddie to other ppl and such.