#it wasn’t even a ‘we have different perspectives on what’s right and wrong’ she was literally trying to make them question their reality

[nat-without-a-g]

Scary Marlowe more like Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss

[cxrrodedcoffin]

Jealousy, Jealousy - Spencer Reid

Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!

Summary: Spencer and reader are both BAU agents in a secret relationship and a charity gala has reader tired of hiding.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Trying something different with the first person perspective here! bc of that I did have to use y/n twice so sorry for that lol. This is later seasons but pre-prison Spencer, so he’s a little more sure of himself and in return more dominant without being fully there. I promise I’m working on a few sub!spencer fics right now but I stumbled across this old fic of mine while going through my past works and I was dying to rework it because I wasn’t happy with what it was before lol.

TW: jealousy, angst, kissing, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, afab reader, use of “girl” in reference to reader.

Rating: R, 18+ only please!

——

We’d already been here for three hours and I was growing weary watching Spencer make awkward conversation with every person at this charity gala. There were hundreds of people neither of us knew in this room, but bureaucratic duty required the both of us to make small talk with everyone no matter the department. Heaven knows Spencer didn’t have any intention beyond professional with these people, and I certainly didn’t either as it came with the territory of being BAU agents, but somehow I couldn’t help but find the jealous side of me rearing its ugly head with every attractive colleague that looked his way.

I’d kept my distance, allowing him the space he needed to not seem too attached. I knew how important it was that everyone assumed we were both single, interpersonal relationships between agents aren’t exactly looked highly upon here. Still, watching him talk the ear off of another woman had that familiar blossom of insecurity blooming in my chest. No matter how clueless he was, I knew just how many women and men in our professional vicinity would risk a lot to be with Spencer, and they figured that maybe given the right set of circumstances, perhaps they’d have the opportunity. He never gave them that privilege of course, even though we weren’t public with our relationship, we knew what we were, and he never betrayed that trust.

Still, as he was approached by a particularly tall, gorgeous redhead I found myself growing more and more jealous. He said something and she laughed a little too hard, laying her right hand on his bicep and tossing her hair over her shoulder with the other, and the green eyed monster returned, fiercer than ever. A tear slipped down my cheek as I watched, but I quickly wiped it away, fighting to keep my composure.

When he finally broke away from her, I made my way through the sea of elegantly dressed attendees, whispering his name to catch his attention. He turned to me, features softening as he registered my features.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, concern lacing his tone.

“I’m not feeling well, I’m going to head home.” I told him, forcing a reassuring smile so as not to worry him.

“Would you like me to come with?” He whispered, brushing his hand against my arm, just as the redhead had done to him. Such a simple, loving gesture, and the thought of someone who was not me doing it to him made my blood boil. I shook my head, giving him one last look of reassurance before gathering the top of the skirt of my overly detailed gown in my hands and making my way out of the ballroom and ordering an uber.

When I got back to his apartment, I kicked my heels off haphazardly the second the door locked behind me before stumbling to his bedroom. I don’t know why I’d come back to his apartment, I should’ve gone to mine, but I didn’t want to. I was sick of the hiding, the secrecy. I wanted him. I wanted to live with him. I wanted to be with him.

I reached around to the zipper on the back of my dress, roughly pulling it down halfway before it got caught, the expensive fabric bunching under the hardware. I pulled as hard as I could, desperate to get out of the increasingly suffocating garment, but my attempts seemed in vain as the zipper stayed put.

All the emotions I’d been holding in throughout the night boiled to the surface, showing themselves in the form of hot, frustrated tears. I collapsed face first onto the bed, letting the plush bedding consume me as I folded my arms beneath my cheek, feeling the wetness gather against my skin. I let it all out, quiet sobs wracking my body as I groveled in my jealousy, the physical pain of the restrictive fabric only doubling my emotions.

I didn’t know how long I’d been laying there, but his hand on my shoulder broke me out of the jealousy fueled haze I’d been locked in.

“Y/n? Why didn’t you go home? What’s wrong?” His voice sounded fuzzy as I quickly stood to face him, wiping away my tears.

“I don’t want to go back there Spencer, I want here to be home. I’m not home if I’m not with you. I’m so sick of hiding. I want to be yours.” I blurted, too overwhelmed to think about what I was confessing.

“You are mine.” He whispered.

“I don’t believe you.” I responded.

“There’s no one else y/n, you know that.” He continued, but it did little to calm me.

“All those women at the gala, touching you, flirting with you. I don’t want to have to sit back and watch it anymore. I die a little every time I see it.”

“Y/n, you know I don’t-“

“I know! You don’t enjoy any of it, I get that, but they do! They want you, Spencer, and I can’t bare the thought of losing you to one of them.” I confessed, tears welling in my eyes again.

“That won’t happen.” He said, a kind of sureness in his tone.

“How do I know that?” I asked.

“Because you’re the only one I want. You’re the only one that understands me for who I really am. I don’t care about them, not the way I care about you. I’ve never cared about anyone as much as I care about you.”

“I love you, y/n.” It rolled off his tongue as if they were the truest words he’d ever spoken, and as he placed his hands on my hips I practically melted under his touch.

“I love you too.” I breathed, looking up at him doe-eyed, lip quivering as I held back the tears of contentment fighting to escape my waterline.

“I’m yours.” He whispered, pulling me into him before crashing his lips to mine. I turned to putty in his hands, hanging on his every touch as he pulled away and spun me around, large hand resting on my exposed shoulder as the other worked carefully to untangle my zipper, finally allowing the fabric of the gown to fall from my frame.

His lips met my neck, sucking hungrily against my blushed skin and I brought my hand to rest in his brunette curls, holding him steadily against me. He pressed his hips flush against my lower back, his member growing hard as he marked my neck, drawing his swollen lips over the purple patches forming across the sensitive skin of my neck.

I whimpered as he nipped at my pulse point, nimble fingers undoing my bra before letting it join my gown on the floor, immediately cradling my breasts in his soft grip. I rolled my hips back against him, earning a deep groan as my free hand moved to palm him through his fitted slacks.

“Let me prove how devoted I am to you.” He breathed, spinning me back around before laying me slowly onto the bed. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching as he removed his suit jacket, then undid the buttons of his dress shirt one by one, maintaining eye contact as he undid his belt and dropped his pants and underwear, leaving him bare for me to take in.

He knelt at the edge of the bed, taking my ankles in his grip before parting my legs, placing a soft kiss to the small dip on the inside of my ankle. He looked up at me, his gaze never leaving my face as I watched him plant wet kiss after wet kiss up the expanse of my leg before repeating the action on the other, the intimate act arousing me more and more by the second.

When he finally reached my left upper thigh, he lingered, drawing his tongue over the apex of my thigh to my panties, licking a flat stripe over the soaked panel of fabric, drawing a panting moan from my throat. He locked eyes with me, placing a kiss over my clit before taking the waistband between his teeth and letting it slap back against my hip, earning a whimper from me.

He gripped either side of my hips, taking my underwear in hand before pulling them slowly down my legs and discarding them across the room.

I watched transfixed as he kissed his way up my body, leaving soft magenta marks blooming like peonies over my damp skin, paying special attention to my breasts.

“You’re perfect.” He mumbled, tongue tracing around my nipple as I blushed at his words.

“I want to devour every inch of you.” He continued, taking the stiff peak gently between his teeth and tugging, sending a delicious mix of pain and pleasure to every nerve ending in my chest.

“Then do it.” I gasped, relaxing back into the bed. He hummed against me, flicking his tongue over my breast as his other hand slid between my thighs, cupping my cunt. He dipped his index finger to part my folds, already swollen and sticky and dripping with need. I wanted him, and although this certainly was not the first time we’d had sex, I was finally going to have him, all of him.

“So wet…” He trailed off, dragging his mouth up the expanse of my neck before drawing me into a kiss, deep and warm and full of a fire I’d never felt from him before. It’s like his confession had set something free in him, torn down a wall or two, uncaged the animal of desire within him.

“All for you.” I whimpered, pulling him down into another kiss.

He pressed two fingers in slow, pressured circles against my swollen clit, his full lips swallowing every last one of my needy moans and whimpers. Any other night I would’ve reveled in it, secretly loved the slow burn of his teasing, but I was far too emotional for that tonight, and I couldn’t put up with not having him inside of me anymore.

“I need you.” I whined, rutting my hips up into him.

“What do you want me to do, my love?” He asked. I huffed, knowing the game he was playing.

“Please Spence, I need you inside of me. Fuck me, show me what I mean to you.” I practically moaned as he continued rubbing harsh circles against my clit.

“That’s my girl, always so eager.” He praised, snaking his hands around the back of my thighs and lifting to wrap my legs around his hips.

He rubbed himself slowly through my folds, properly coating his cock with my slick before aligning the head at my slit, ready and inviting him in. He pushed slowly into me, a low groan slipping from his clenched jaw as he savored every inch of my wet heat and I met him with a tight embrace, gasping at the way he filled me.

I’d never felt so connected before, like I could feel him in every fiber of my being and as he was seated fully inside of me I felt whole, like we were made for each other.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss before he pulled almost completely out, pausing before pushing back in, my wetness making it almost embarrassingly easy. He angled his hips upward, knowing how quickly I’d crumble beneath him with the repeated brush of his cock against that soft spot inside of me.

He looked down at me, a certain warmth spreading over his dilated pupils as he halted his hips and opened his kiss-swollen lips to speak.

“It’s only you. Forever.” He purred, pushing the stray hair from my face before kissing my temple and pistoning his hips forward, punctuating his words with a deep thrust.

Each roll of his hips against mine had my muscles contracting, pulling him closer in every way, never wanting this to end. His rhythm remained steady as he picked up his pace, driving the pressure building inside of me ever closer to bursting.

I snaked one of my hands into his hair, gripping tight as the other found his bicep, matching my grip. I needed to hold him, to feel him, to know that having him here like this wasn’t all a dream. His groans and pants filled the thickening air, like a melody in my ear, mingling with my own and the almost feral “mine” that ripped from his throat on a particularly hard thrust had me crying out for him, clawing at his arm as he repeated the intensity.

I was close, so close and as I felt his cock twitch inside of me I knew he was too. I locked my ankles around his hips, holding him inside of me as he rolled his hips quickly, head dropping onto my shoulder. The continued stimulation of that spot, the sweet spot inside of me only he could hit became too much, bringing stars to my eyes as I cried out his name, euphoria so strong I couldn’t feel my legs as I dug my nails so hard into his arm that I had surely drawn blood.

“I’m yours.” He groaned, hips faltering as he filled me, my cunt still pulsing around him with every spurt of warm cum.

Everything after that was a blur of being held in his arms, whispered I love you’s, and gentle caresses.

“We’ll go to HR as soon as possible, I don’t care what paperwork they want us to fill out or how much shit we’ll get from Morgan, I want everyone at that gala tonight to know that I love you.” He broke the silence, his words a final cementing comfort.

No more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more secrets. Only the two of us.

——

Tag List: @pleasantwitchgarden

DM me or send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my general or spencer reid taglist :)

[yyunari]

JAKE 01. ⏱﹕ꕤ﹔ ETA !

your relationship with jake was built off of lies and deceit. that much was apparent all thanks to minji.

⌇＃GENRE ◠﹒angst + breakup ＃PAIRING ◠﹒sim jaeyun x fem! reader x ?? ＃WARNINGS ◠﹒toxic jake ＃WC ◠﹒1.1k

being known as overly emotional and often getting pushed over had its struggles. that much was clear to you on a daily basis.

one of these struggles being how easy you had accepted jake’s request (more like a demand) to break up.

3 days after when you heard his rare yet melodious laugh, one akin to the sound of bells, chime throughout your mind, as it successfully carried onto your ears- you found yourself feeling sick. on a normal day you would be glad to hear it (and the dazzling smile that always accompanied it), but not anymore.

because you had found out that jake had most likely two timed you whilst you guys were together.

if it weren’t for minji texting you after she saw him with a girl on his arms, you wouldn’t have found out.

truly, you owed a lot to your best friend.

minji: y/n- SOS! ur ex is with a girl!

*video attached*

it got cut off but he said “poor y/n, she’s too much of a people pleasing pushover”. WTF!!!!!!

you: seriously? im omw :(

minji: what’s ur eta??

you: be there rn!!

you walked to your car and pinpointed minji’s location on life360 as memories of the breakup filled your subconscious.

“lets break up.”

as soon as those words were uttered from jake’s mouth, you halted what you were doing and let your eyes slowly flutter up to meet his stare.

at first you assumed he was joking. after all, he had made no prior indication that he wanted to break up with you. though the two of you hadn’t spent as much time together in the previous weeks, you accepted that it was because you both were busy with your own lives and couldn’t be with each other 24/7. and it wasn’t as though you had felt that anything was amiss in the relationship, because the two of you had been peacefully coexisting for a while.

but perhaps you were wrong and he had a different idea of what your relationship was like.

as of now, you just wanted to know why. “oh… is there a reason?”

jake hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “yes, there is.”

before you had the opportunity to ask why, he ruffled his chocolate-esque hair with his hands and answered for you. “it’s really not you, it’s me. i just… don’t feel like right now is a good time for me to be in a relationship. you know?”

you felt something was off with his reasoning. the two of you had been together for 4 years, and jake wanted to break it off out of nowhere because it ‘wasn’t a good time’? what exactly made it not a good time? it didn’t make much sense, but you weren’t the type to throw a fit because of a breakup. you were the paranoid, constantly worried about saying the wrong thing type.

if he had his reasons, then you had to respect that. as much as it broke your heart.

but did you really want to?

“and you couldn’t ask me first before jumping the gun?” you grabbed jake’s hand, more confused than upset by how easily he wanted to break things off and how lazy the excuse felt. “i mean, i-i feel like this came out of nowhere. we’ve been dating for 4 years…” you noticed his expression grow more tired. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to be rude! i guess i’m just surprised you didn’t say anything about it first.”

“i tried! i just couldn’t bring myself to do it, I guess.” jake pursed his lips, seemingly putting his thoughts together before speaking again. “i like you y/n, i really do, but i just don’t think we work. you have to agree- we haven’t been getting along well these days.”

you gave him a sad smile when you realized that you two had completely different perspectives about your dynamic. he considered it strained, while you considered it peaceful. he thought this was a reason to end a relatively long lasting relationship while the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind.

because after all, you loved him too much to even consider that.

“i guess you’re right.” you lied. you couldn’t agree to his judgment, but you couldn’t speak up about it either.

before jake could open his mouth in response, you spoke up again. “as much as i don’t want to do it, I'll have to respect your wishes. it’s for the better if we did… you know…” you looked at jake with tears beginning to cloud your vision. “break up. i’m sorry.”

the perturbed male let out a breath, as you could tell he attempted not to roll his eyes. you felt your heart crack with every action he took, each one somehow upsetting you more than the last. “yes, y/n. we’re done. i can’t handle us anymore.”

and with that you retired into your room, searching for anything and everything to make you feel his presence once more.

“he’s been totally lying!!” you whisper yelled to minji, the two of you watching the couple from a distance. in any other circumstance it would be weird. but considering how clear it was that he broke up with you for her, you didn’t feel bad. “talking about how he wasn’t ready for a relationship… not ready my ass!”

minji put an arm on your shoulder in consolation. “you deserve better than that.”

“damn right i do.” you said, the apparent anger being a cover for the sadness you truly felt deep down. of course you wanted to run back to him and act as though everything was normal, but you knew the truth. he stopped being yours long ago.

it was truly absurd. you had spent hours upon hours post breakup trying to feel alright again; trying to fill the hole that jakes abrupt leaving had opened up. but all of that.. for what? just for it to end up being a whole lie? you felt dumb. not just because of how he made you feel, but because of how you had to pretend to be angrier than you actually were in order to actually be angry about it. it wasn’t that you didn’t feel angry, but rather that the sadness was more prevalent.

you wanted jake to see what he had done to you, to see how he had betrayed you. but passive, people pleaser y/n wasn't the type to confront people.

“hey y/n, you ready to get this show on the road?” jay, a close friend of jake’s, smirked as he grabbed your waist.

you chuckled in response, not hesitating to place a rushed kiss on his cheek. “ready as i’ll ever be.”

such a shame, jake didn’t know who he was dealing with.

authors note. 🤓🤓🤓 this is kind of ass im ngl part 2 coming soon maube

permanent taglist. @muhwaa @hoori @yizhoutv @ja4hyvn @carayat @one16core @enhacolor @haerinz @soobin-chois @en-boyz @ohmy-fandoms @yeongwonie @yjwonz @yunki4evr @strwberrydinosaur @duolingofanaccount @iichaeyj @eundiarys @ineedaherosavemeenow @chaerybae @bubblytaetae @w3bqrl @xiaoderrrr @jaeyunnsworld @rikizm (if u requested to be on my permanent taglist and u didn’t get tagged it’s bc i cant see ur acc, but pls dm me if u want to be in it !)

[mochegato]

Mistakes Were Made

Jon pursed his lips as he studied the list in front of him, his brow furrowing deeper the longer he stared at it.  There was a pattern there.  He knew there was.  Something linking the names on the list.  Something he hadn’t managed to figure out even after endless hours staring at the company names, running down investors, calling ex-employees, scouring the internet for scandals.  It was getting damned frustrating.

Jay hadn’t had any more luck with the list than he’d had, and Jay had been working on the story a lot longer than Jon had been.  Weeks.  Weeks of focused investigation had yielded a lot of results, but nothing conclusive.  Nothing they could splash across the front page of the Daily Planet.  Nothing that would lead to the convictions that he knew were forthcoming.  If they could figure out the pattern.

It was there… somewhere.

He was shocked out of his focus by his phone and answered before the first ring had completed.  “This is Jon,” he intoned mindlessly, still staring at the list.

The responding snort finally brought his attention away from the list for the first time in so long, his vision was starting to cross.  “I guess I called the right number then,” she chuckled.

“Hey, Starlight,” he sighed and instantly returned his attention to the list.  It wasn’t investors.  It wasn’t ex-employees.  It had to be…

“Hey, Mon rêve,” she cooed.  “Where are you?  It’s getting pretty late.”

“Hm?  Is it?  I hadn’t noticed,” he answered absently.  “I’m still here with Jay.”

“Wait.  Really?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded, cocking his head to the side to stare at the list.  Maybe that would give him a new perspective.  He was pretty sure if he stared any harder than he had before, his laser vision would activate.  “Jay has been following a lead for a few days and asked this morning if I could help.  We are doing some research to hopefully get a direction.”

“So…” she started, her tone was careful, measured.  If Jon had been a bit more aware of anything outside of the list, it would have set the hairs on the back of his neck on edge, especially contrasted with the adoring tone microseconds before.  “…you're staying there.  You're not going to join me?  You're going to stay there... with Jay.”

“Yeah, sorry, can't join you tonight.”  He paused to look over their desks full of documents, binders of reports, and endless Post It notes marking random thoughts in their glaring color.  It should be overwhelming, but it just excited him.  This story wasn’t just important, it could make a major difference, to Metropolis and him.  “I think this could really be something,” he gushed almost breathlessly.  She was silent for a few beats too long; long enough Jon noticed she hadn't responded yet.  “Mari?”

It was another few beats of loaded silence before she responded.  “Yeah, I thought it could really be something too.”

He frowned at the phone.  “Hey, you okay?  You sound a bit off.”

The silence was more concerning than any response she could give.  If it took that long to respond, there clearly was something wrong.  He almost waved Jay off when he jutted his laptop in front of his eyes, but the insistent look in Jay’s eyes made him reconsider.  “I just thought we could spend time together today celebrating,” she finally answered.

“Oh? Celebrating what?” he asked distractedly, flicking his fingers through the document Jay had just found; property listings.

She let out a mirthless huff of a laugh.  “Nothing.  It doesn't matter.”

“No, I'm sure it does,” he insisted instantly, though it was clear in his voice his attention was still elsewhere.  “I'll see you tonight and we can talk.”

“I wanted to dig up property records for the rest of the organizations,” Jay piped up.  “If we can get a listing tonight, we can look into their ownership history tomorrow.  Maybe make some inquiries.”

“Oh!  That’s a good plan.  Yeah.”  He looked at the list again and let out a breath at the length.  “This is going to take a while.”  It wasn’t until he had reached for his laptop that he remembered he was still holding a phone and supposed to be talking to Marinette.  “Sorry!  Tomorrow,” he promised quickly.  “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Right,” Marinette scoffed.

He paused and turned away from Jay to give himself a bit of privacy.  “Are you upset I'm hanging out with Jay?  Mari, you know we just work together.  There's nothing to worry about.”

“Right,” she repeated.

This time, Jon took note of her tone.  It wasn’t one he associated with her.  He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever heard her speak that way before.  It was hollow, defeated, and so very wrong.  “Don’t be like that, Starlight.  You're being ridiculous.”  He shook his head, exasperated at her reaction.  They needed to talk about this, clearly, but he didn’t have time tonight.  “Look, I have to go.  We'll talk about this later, okay?  Love you.”

She hung up without responding, leaving him staring at the phone in confusion.  He let out a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut.  She was upset.  Clearly.  But this was time sensitive.  They needed to get this research done tonight so they could jump on City Hall tomorrow.

Would he have loved to spend the night with her?  Of course he would!  He would spend every night… and day with her if he could.  But this was the life of a reporter, not to mention a hero.  He needed to be able to spend a night in the office with a coworker from time to time.  When he was working on a story, it might even be days.  Hell, his mom had slept on her office couch every night for a week before.

And, he huffed mentally, Marinette didn’t really have standing to complain.  She regularly got caught up in design dazes and would end up in her studio for the entire night.  More than once, he had to track her down to her studio and drag her home.  She had no right to be mad at him for doing the same thing she did constantly.

It was particularly strange because he had worked late into the night on stories, or been away unexpectedly for a mission, and she had been extremely understanding.  But this time…

“Hey, I think I found something!” Jay called, drawing Jon out of his spiral.

Jon was at Jay’s side looking over his shoulder in a microsecond.  This was it!  This was the link they’d been looking for all day.  He could feel it.

They got lost in digging up all the information they could, so focused, he’d completely lost track of time.  Gun to his head, not that it would do anything, but it’s the sentiment that counts, he couldn’t tell you how much time had passed since he’d spoken to Marinette when his phone rang again, but it was at least long enough for them to have gathered the bulk of the property listings for the names on the list.  And at some point Jay had drifted off to the break room to get them yet another cup of godawful black coffee.

They hadn’t done a deep dive yet, looking for the hidden assets, but there was a lot of night left… maybe.  He really needed to check a clock.

He checked the ID and furrowed his brow in confusion for just a second before answering.  If he knew her, and he did, she would just keep calling until he answered.  “Hey, Kara.  I’m a bit busy right now.  Can I call you back another time?”

“Yeah, I know how busy you apparently are, dumbass,” she growled into the phone. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He jerked back in surprise.  “What?  What did I do now?”  It took a few moments for his mind to register the situation and recall his previous conversation.  “Oh, did Mari call you?”  He sighed and rubbed his forehead.  “Is she that upset I'm working with Jay.  This is insane.  She's best friends with Adrien and regularly hangs out with Luka and Vic and I can't even work with Jay?  I can't believe...”

“What day is it?” she cut in, saccharine sweet in a way she had never actually embodied.

The tone caught him off guard.  It was, quite frankly, a bit creepy coming from her.  “What?”

“What day is it?” she repeated, the sweetness bleeding from her tone.

It was a trap, he knew it was, he just for the life of him couldn’t figure out what it was supposed to trap him into or why she was laying it.  Working late one day didn’t warrant the effort at entrapment.  Nothing made sense.  “Thursday,” he answered slowly.  It felt like it wasn’t the answer she was looking for, but it was the correct answer.

“The date, you dimwitted pudding socket!” she hissed.  All pretenses of sweetness were completely gone.  Her hostility was fully out.

“Dimwitted… what the heck, Kara?”

“What. Is. The. Date,” she repeated, carefully enunciating each word, punctuating the final syllable like they were weapons.

He could hear her teeth gritting through the phone without even having to use his super hearing.  But more than that, he could hear the disappointment, which again, didn’t make sense.  It was one night.  “It's May...” he trailed off as the realization hit and Marinette and Kara’s reactions finally made sense.  “Oh...”

“Yeah,” she concurred bitterly, “oh.”

“Oh, fuck.”  If anything, Marinette’s reaction was subdued.  She should have yelled.  She should have screamed.  She should have raked him over the coals for forgetting their anniversary.

“Yep,” she agreed popping the p.

“Oh no,” he lamented, running his hand through his hair and tugging painfully on it.  “No, no, no.  No, fuck.  Is she still at the restaurant?”  The question was essentially perfunctory, he was moving before she responded.  But her response stopped him in his tracks, yet again driving home the level of fuckupary.

“Is she still at the restaurant you had a reservation for hours ago and you left her sitting alone waiting for you?” she scoffed.

“No!  What time is it?”  He whipped his head around looking for the damned clock that he should have checked when he talked with Marinette.  His heart dropped at the sight.  It was in fact hours after he was supposed to meet her.  Hours!  And he hadn’t talked to her.  Hours for her to stew and spiral and start thinking the worst of the situation.  “Fuck!  Where is she?”

There was a pause before she spoke, and Jon could picture her narrowing her eyes, leaning back, and cocking her hip as she prepared to answer.  “She is somewhere she doesn't want you to find her.”

“Fuck!  No, Kara,” he pleaded.  “No, I need to talk to her.  I need to fix this.  I need to...”

“That's a lot of I's for someone who is just fucked up so royally,” she chided harshly.  “It isn't about what you need right now, is it?”

He groaned and ran his hand through his hair again.  He needed to do something he couldn’t… he couldn’t lose Marinette.  The very idea of not being able to go home to her gutted him.  But the idea of Marinette thinking that he blew her off, that he didn’t love her with his entire soul, felt like a kryptonite knife to the heart.  “Fuck!  Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he agonized.  “How do I fix this if she won't talk to me, Kara.  What do I do?”

“I would suggest massive groveling,” she offered, her false sweetness back though not quite to the level it had been before.  “Flowers and fabric aren’t going to fix this.”

“I need to apologize to her face,” he announced as much to himself as her.  He stood up straight as determination flowed through him.  He was going to find her and talk to her, beg her, plead for her to understand.  He was an idiot, but he was a devoted, utterly lovesick idiot.  “Where is she?”

“No.”  Flat but solid.  She used no emotion, just raw steel.

“Kara, where is my girlfriend?” he growled.

“Gone.  And you need to consider what you're going to do to make sure it isn't permanent,” she snarled before hanging up.

“Kara?  Kara!” Frustration inundated his voice.  “How do I make sure it isn’t permanent if I can’t talk to her?” he screamed into the void.  “I know you can hear me!”

He immediately called Marinette, which in retrospect, he acknowledged, he should have done as soon as he realized he’d missed the date.  He clenched his hand into a bouncing fist as he waited for her to answer, pacing a tight circle, and he almost started apologizing when he heard her voice.  It took a few seconds to realize it was the start of her voicemail, not her.

But he wasn’t going to be deterred so easily.  She was angry, frustrated.  She didn’t like to answer the phone when she was frustrated with someone.  He knew that.  He should have anticipated it.  Instead, he sent off a few anxious texts, not able to wait more than a few seconds before sending the next text.  When she didn’t answer those after a full minute, he couldn’t force himself to wait any longer and tried calling again, but it went straight to voicemail.  Meaning she was either instantly rejecting the call or she’d blocked him.

“Son of a bitch!” he yelled, fighting the urge to throw his phone.  If he allowed his anger to overtake him now, he would lose his only means of communication if she did decide to respond… and he’d probably tear a hole through the wall and possibly the next… and all the walls in the next building.

Jay came careening around the corner, the coffee mugs in his hands sloshing over the rims and spilling onto his shirt unnoticed.  “What?  Did something happen?  What’s wrong?” he questioned frantically.

“I… fuck!” Jon yelled again.  He kicked an exposed steel support beam that at this point luckily was merely decorative, because it crumpled instantly.

“Woah, hey, you have to take a breath,” Jay urged.  He set the coffee down and approached Jon cautiously.  “You’re going to destroy the building.  What is going on?”

“I…” he moved toward something else to hit but Jay stepped in front of it with a concerned but firm look and Jon deflated entirely.  He collapsed onto the floor, head in hands.  “It’s our anniversary.  I… I missed our anniversary.  We had a night planned.  I… she waited at the restaurant for me.”

Jay crouched down next to him in an instant.  “What?” he gasped.  “It’s your… What are you doing here!”

“I forgot,” he moaned.  “I got caught up and…”

“Jon…” he cut in his voice firm again.  “Why are you still here?  Go fix it!”

Jon shook his head despondently.  “She doesn’t want to see me.  She has made that abundantly clear.”

Jay scoffed.  “She’s mad.  Justifiably.  You forgot a really important date for your relationship to hang out with an ex.  Fucked up doesn’t even begin to cover it.  But, what?  You’re just going to slink away, tail between your legs?  You’re not going to fight?  Beg?  Fly up to the moon and bring it back for her?”

Jon glanced up at him, his eyes welling as he did.  “If she wanted.  I’d give her anything she wanted.  And what she wants is space.”

“Is it?” Jay demanded.  He wasn’t giving any space for self-pitying.  It was time to act, not wallow.  “I don’t know man, if you aren’t even willing to fight for her, I don’t know if you deserve her.  She’s hurting right now.  You’re going to let her do it alone?”

“No!  Never,” Jon exclaimed, affronted by the very suggestion that he would ever, ever leave Marinette to suffer alone.

“So…” Jay prompted.  He grinned as a determined look came over Jon.  “I’ll continue on my own.  We can pick this up on Monday… or Tuesday.  The evidence isn’t going anywhere.  You go get your woman and fix your future.”

Finding her wasn’t as difficult as Kara made it out to be.  After he excluded their place and Kara’s place, she was in the next place he looked, which would have been the first, but Kara’s comment had thrown his instincts off.  So, either she wasn’t as adamant that she didn’t want him to find her as Kara had indicated or Marinette just was too upset to think logically and was thinking emotionally instead.

Jon took a deep breath to fortify himself before knocking on the door.  The night was going to be rough, and it was completely his fault.  He had done this to them.  He’d stood her up and forgotten their anniversary.  She’d even prompted him to remember they were supposed to be celebrating and he blew her off.  God, she must think he didn’t care about her at all.

He was so lost in his self-deprecation; he missed the sounds of someone approaching the door until it had already been opened, an imposing, hostile figure glowering at him.  “What do you want?” Adrien snarled.

Jon flinched at the venomous tone from the normally friendly, gregarious man.  He steeled himself and met Adrien’s eyes.  “To talk to my girlfriend.”

“Oh, she’s worthy of your attention now, is she?” he sneered.

“Of course she is.  She always is.”  Jon took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  He wanted to argue with Adrien, to point out all the times she’d been the center of his attention, all the times he’d put her needs and interests above his own because he knew she did the same.  But it wasn’t the right time for that argument.  He needed to speak with Marinette, to make her feel his devotion, not waste time arguing with her best friend.  And if it meant letting Adrien take out his protective wrath on him uncontested, that’s what he would do.  “Look, I screwed up, I know that.  Please let me fix this,” he begged.

Adrien stared him down for a few long moments, not breaking his intense eye contact, clearly enjoying the way it made Jon squirm.  But finally he grumbled something that might have been a word, or just a sound to make known his extreme discontent, and let him in grudgingly.  Just as Jon was about to pass him, he held his arm up to stop him.  “You get this one chance.  You screw this up, I won’t need kryptonite to end you, but you’ll wish I had.”

Jon met his eyes again, letting an understanding pass between them and nodded.  “Noted.”

He thought he couldn’t feel any guiltier or worse about himself, but the moment he saw Marinette, he knew he was wrong.  He could feel so, so much worse.  She was slumped on the couch, empty tumbler in her hand, staring absently at nothing.  Her eyes were red and puffy and even from his distance and without using enhanced vision, he could see the still wet tear tracks, her ruined mascara highlighting their trail.

Desperate not to make her feel worse, he approached her cautiously, slowly.  While in the past, he’d enjoyed ambushing her by appearing in front of her in the blink of her eye, surprising her and possibly shocking her into a violent reaction was the last thing he wanted to do at that moment.  He could tell the moment she noticed him.  She didn’t acknowledge him outright, but he could hear the way her breathing changed and the way her body tensed just before she sat up and refilled her glass.

The liquid slopped out of the bottle, splashing as much on the coffee table as in the glass and Jon rushed forward to steady her hand.  It was instinct.  He saw her in need of assistance, and he acted.  It wasn’t until she flinched away that he realized his assistance may not be welcome in that moment and perhaps he was the very reason she was in need of assistance.  His heart squeezed painfully at the realization, tearing the breath from his lungs.

“Hey Starlight, what are you doing?” he asked gently.  He sat next to her, close but still giving her space, and angled his body so he could face her.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, not quite willing to grace him with her gaze, and took a long drink before answering.  “You forgot about our anniversary,” she answered her voice forlorn.

 “I know,” he admitted guiltily.  “I…”

“I wanted to too,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

He could have sworn he didn’t have any more air left in his lungs, but her tone and the agonized look in her eyes, made his chest feel like it was in a vise forcing all air out in a rush.  “No, baby…” he begged miserably.

“I’m not your baby anymore,” she shrugged, still not meeting his gaze, her eyes returning to the blank spot in the distance.

“Baby, Starlight,” he pleaded.  He moved a step closer to give him better access to wipe away her tears and caress her face.  The need to touch her was visceral.  He needed to feel her and make her feel his love, look at him.  But at the last second Kara’s words rung in his head.  It wasn’t about him.  He redirected before making contact and instead laid his hands on either side of her knees.  “You will always be mine.”

Sloppily, she shook her head.  “I’m not.  You don’t love me anymore.”

It was said with such certainty that he could feel it in his soul.  “Starlight, I love you more than anything…”

“I’m not important to you.  You can’t love someone you don’t think is important.  You don’t put in effort.  You don’t care.”  Any emotion that had crept into her eyes when he first approached her, drained completely, giving the impression of a haunted house, empty and seemingly abandoned, but with hidden secrets fiercely protected.  “You forgot,” she finished desolately.

It was over.  He could see it.  She was done for the night.  Nothing he or anyone else said would make it through to her.  Nothing but time and rest and a whole lot of sobering would make a difference.  He would just have to hope she got that overnight and then pray to whatever deities that might listen, that in the morning, she would let him apologize.  “Marinette,” he started earnestly, tenderly, “you are by far the most important person in the world to me.  Let’s get you to bed and we can talk in the morning, okay?”

She shrugged, or at least gave a rough, loose approximation of a shrug.  “I don’t believe you,” she mumbled, almost incoherently.  “I want to.”  She glanced over at him with watery eyes.  “I want to, so much.  But I don’t.”

What was left of his heart shattered into neutron sized pieces.  He couldn’t believe how badly he had messed it up.  He didn’t know what he was going to have to do to fix it, but whatever it took he would do.  Whatever she needed… tomorrow.  He reached up and gently cupped her face, his thumbs softly wiped away her tears.  His heart mended slightly when she nuzzled into his hands.  “I will do everything I can to change that, I swear that to you.  But let’s get you to bed and sleep.”

“Okay,” she slurred, but made no sign of moving other than to lift her now empty glass to her lips then frown at it, after a few beats.

He sighed and looked over to Adrien.  He would fly her home but at this point, he was worried there was no way she’d make it without feeling absolutely terrible and likely throwing up… a few times.  “Can she stay here tonight?”

Adrien scoffed and headed over to her.  “You don’t even have to ask.”

Before Adrien could make it over to them, Jon had already picked her up as gently as possible so as not to shake her and cause her head to spin or nausea.  “But I do have to ask if I can stay,” he pointed out tentatively.  “I can take the couch,” he added quickly.  “I just… really want to be here when she wakes up.”

Adrien sighed and softly stroked Marinette’s hair as Jon carried her past.  His eyes never left Marinette as he responded, “You don’t have to either.  You two come as a package.”

Jon breathed out a sigh of relief.  “God, I really hope we still are.”  He gave Adrien a nod at his shoulder pat and carried her back to the guest room they’d stayed in together many times before.  It felt strange knowing this time he wouldn’t be welcome.  They’d always stayed together, squeezed together pleasantly in the entirely too small bed.

Her even and rhythmic breathing seemed to reverberate through the unwelcome room as he laid her down and tucked the comforter around her as tenderly as he could so as not to wake her up.  He hadn’t made it a full step away before he heard her voice.  “Stay?”  She turned her mournful eyes to him.  “Give me one last night?”

She had turned away from him as soon as he started removing his shoes, getting ready for him to slip into his familiar position, which he did with ease.  He stroked her hair as she slept, more for himself than her, relishing what might be the last time he was allowed to be so close.  “Starlight, I want to give you my every night.”

It took quite a while for him to finally fall asleep, constantly afraid she would disappear on him if he did.  When he finally fell asleep, it was fitful.  He constantly jolted awake to make sure she was still there, and chastised himself each time because with the way he was wrapped around her, their legs intertwined and his hand splayed against her abdomen holding her tight against him, every time he jolted, she whined and shifted.

It was no surprise then that when she awoke quite a few hours later, he was already awake to catch her getting restless until her eyes started to flutter and finally open to take in the room, quickly scrunching in confusion.  “Morning, Starlight,” he murmured, his voice scratchy from disuse and the little bit of sleep he’d managed.

“Morning, Mon rêve,” she responded instinctively, but he could see the moment memories of the night before flooded back.  Her soft expression became wary and she edged away from him.  “What are you doing here?”

He stared intently into her eyes and took a bit of pride in the way she didn’t shy away from him reaching out to wind his hand into her hair and brush her cheek with his thumb.  She wasn’t angry or hurt enough to refuse to let him feel her, that was something, definitely better than he thought he would be.  “There’s nowhere else I wanted to be.”

“Jon…” she started, her voice tired and her eyes gleaming with hurt.

“I’m sorry, Marinette,” he cut in.  He’d wanted to ease into it.  He’d wanted to feel out how she was feeling then go from there.  He’d wanted to be tactful.  But as soon as he saw the pain in her eyes, he couldn’t hold back.  “I’m so, so very sorry that I forgot, but more than that, I’m sorry I made you feel like you’re anything less than the center of my entire universe.”

She looked away as she sat up, tearing herself away from the comforting feel of his hand.  “I understand being a reporter you’re going to have to work late.  Probably a lot.  But… It was our anniversary,” she lamented, another set of tears trailing down her cheeks.

Jon jumped out of bed to kneel in front of her again.  He ducked his head to try to catch her gaze, but she deftly avoided it.  It hurt, but he needed to get through to her, so he took her hands in his, squeezing them gently.  “I know, Starlight.  I know.”

She finally lifted her eyes, but it was worse.  The pain in them had increased into something desperate.  “It was our anniversary, and you were too busy for me.  For us.  You didn’t even remember.”

He shook his head vehemently.  “I forgot the date, yes.  But I didn’t forget the anniversary.  I swear I didn’t.  I’ve had your present wrapped at home for weeks.”

She shook her head as well, but while his had shaken like he could make her misperception evaporate, hers shook like her heart had lost the strength to do anything else.  “You’ve been working so much lately… for weeks.  And it’s been building up for months.  Months of not making it to our plans and working late.  It’s like you’re looking for a reason to stay away,” she murmured in a voice so fragile it seemed like a simple word could break her.

“I want to marry you,” he blurted out.

“What!” she exclaimed, shock evident on her face, but quickly faded to exasperation.  “Jon, it isn’t that bad.  You don’t need to propose to get over the fight.”

“What? No!  That’s not…”  He took a deep breath and let it out with a loud groan.  He ran his hand down his face roughly, letting it rest over his mouth for a few moments as he let the words settle into the right order in his head.  “I’ve been working harder the past few months to earn money and force my break.  I want to be able to support us when we get married, when we decide to start a family.  I wanted to buy you a nice ring.  It won’t be as amazing as you deserve, because I don’t think I’ll ever make enough to buy you what you deserve, but still a really nice ring.”

“Jon,” she murmured and with that one word, his heart started rebuilding.  Her tone had completely shifted from broken to compassionate, her eyes shifted from pain to adoration.  “My friend proposed to his girlfriend with a tiny shell on a string, because that’s what he could afford, and it was possibly the single most romantic gesture I’ve ever seen.”  She cupped his face and stroked his cheek gently, her thumb making a quiet rasping noise against his stubble.  “I don’t need a fancy ring.  I just need you.”

Jon grinned as he laid his hands over hers.  “Does that mean I should take the ring back?  I can still find a shell somewhere and keep the money,” he teased.

“Don’t you dare,” she gasped and smacked him in the chest.

He chuckled at the swipe before pulling her into a long, tight hug, one he wasn’t sure he was going to get again just a few minutes ago, making it all the sweeter.  “Are we okay?” he asked softly, still holding her tight, but too afraid to make eye contact just yet.  A fear Marinette clearly did not share as she pulled back to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, I think so.  I think we just need to make sure we communicate better.  You shouldn’t have made such a big change in priorities without talking to me and I should have let you know how it made me feel.”  She ran her fingers through his hair and along his face, her eyes trailing behind her fingers.  “I love you.  I want to spend my life with you.  I shouldn’t have just let things fester.”

“I shouldn’t have pulled away,” he agreed.  “I wanted to surprise you, but not the way I clearly did.  I’ll do better.”

“So will I,” she promised.

“Our first big fight.”  He grinned and leaned in conspiratorially.  “Does that mean our first make up sex?”

Marinette groaned and pushed him away, watching as he fell to the floor dramatically.  She watched him for a few seconds before finally answering.  “Not here, no.”  She chuckled as he shot up in front of her before she could comprehend he’d even moved, hope blazing in his eyes.  “Take me home, Flyboy,” she cooed.

His grin turned excited as he picked her up in a bridal carry.  “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed and had them home before she’d finished laughing

[five-flavor-soup]

I personally think that basing your interpretation of how Ursa treated Azula on Zuko’s memories shown in ‘Zuko Alone’ is kind… incorrect. You can obviously — they’re the only real images of their childhood we get in the cartoon, other than the tiniest of snapshots in sepia — and that’s fine, but for me personally I just don’t think they’re complete enough.

These memories are from Zuko’s perspective. Not Ursa’s, not Azula’s, not Ozai’s or Iroh’s—Zuko’s perspective, his memories. And they’re all about him and Ursa together: every one of these memories have Ursa at their centre. We see her protect him and be kind to him, see her be physically affectionate and gentle, see her encourage him to be kind to himself and to Azula.

They essentially tell us that Zuko is Ursa’s son first, Ozai’s son second. Ozai remains a hovering, intimidating shadow on the sidelines (we still don’t see his face, we don’t see him genuinely interact with his children, and we see him irritating his father while being a very hands-off kinda dad himself) but Ursa is fully present. And ‘Zuko Alone’ is about Zuko trying to figure out who he is: the memories show that he views being his mother’s son as an exceptionally important part of his identity, which means they are about Zuko and his relationship with Ursa alone.

They are not supposed to tell us that Ursa neglected or abused Azula emotionally—that she only focused on protecting Zuko, while leaving Azula to suffer in Ozai’s incapable hands. Sure, we see Ursa scold Zuko for acting like Azula and cuddle him right after, and we see her scold Azula for acting mean and not cuddle her right after, but the key differences here are that Zuko shows guilt after frightening the turtleducks and Azula doubles down on trying to scare Zuko. The behaviour is different and will be, by any halfway decent parent, treated differently. 

I’m absolutely not saying that Azula wasn’t abused, because she 100% was. She was absolutely abused by Ozai, and I’m not ruling out that Ursa didn’t have a hand in how Azula ultimately turned out. But my point here is: these memories are far too limited and narrow for the viewer to properly determine whether Azula was treated incorrectly by Ursa. 

Zuko isn’t going to remember an intimate, lovely moment between Ursa and Azula when all that’s on his mind is his identity, and how it’s entangled with his mother and what she may have sacrificed for him. Additionally, he’s not particularly fond of Azula at this moment in the show (she did kind of kickstart his being a refugee, disregarding how the audience sees this sequence of events having begun), so he’s not going to remember her fondly either. Why would Zuko try to remember Ursa’s relationship with Azula at that point, instead of his own?

(Small tidbit: we also... don't know if Ursa's last words to Azula were 'what is wrong with that child', disregarding the comics which completely ruin azula anyway. Again, the memories are from Zuko's perspective and therefore won't show any private moments between Ursa and Azula. We're not even certain whether Azulon actually ordered Ozai to kill Zuko, or if that is simply what Azula interpreted it as/thought would be funny to say--causing the sequence of events that ultimately put Ozai on the throne. But whatever)

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 59 analysis // spoiler

the battle between who you are, who you want to be and what people think of you: who do you trust to form your identity?

when i read chapter 58, i had this whole idea in my head for the next chapter. i thought kanechika would get closer to kazakami and help him get a little more comfortable with himself. well, i wasn’t entirely wrong. what i forget to consider was how sensei always have a card on her sleeve, ready to surprise us at any time. and this time, the surprise came in form of a teacher.

but first, i want to start with the obvious: the conversation at the beginning of the chapter. after having so many internal battles, kazakami is left with nothing but shame of himself, his hobbies and his recent outburst. he’s feeling defeated and alone, with his internal voices giving more and more power to his parent’s. and suddenly, a boy with dreams as big as the world stop him on his tracks and break his walls.

for the first time on the chapter, kazakami receives his first confirmation: yes, it wasn’t right of his parents to do that to him. just having someone outside of his personal zone blasting this out loud made it clear to him, made it easier to see. that’s why there was no need to go grab his figures back — all he wanted was a confirmation of his pain, someone that would be brave enough to say “this is wrong and you have the right of being hurt”. there was all he needed; nothing solid, but words as concrete as the burden on his back.

i love how kanechika was left surprised because of it. for him, it was easier to just go and resolve the misunderstanding. that’s the contrast between them: one who moves thought actions and the other who moves through words. and that was the best opening for the next scene, with the ace card sensei pulled: hanazono.

i don’t think i’m wrong when i say that it wasn’t surprising to see how everyone was acting when they found out she was pregnant — the prejudice, the side eyes, the judgment. and kazakami wasn’t innocent in all that: he also had a previous image of the teacher on his head, having it a little shaken after hearing her words. he’s once again grabbed by the neck and forced to look outside of his box, once again having to face his own past judgments.

hanazono isn’t the type of person he thought she was. she’s bolder, more assure of herself and with strong convictions. she’s someone who manage to look at herself in the mirror and ask the hard question: who are you? who do you want to be?

contrasting with what kanechika had to say (as in, giving voice to a feeling he already had, but couldn’t put a name to it), hanazono challenge’s him to see everything from another perspective. “the person i thought i was isn’t the right one so…who do i want to be?”. he’s now left with more questions than he had before. so…is it right to give up on everything he loved just to seek the future his parents want? the “self” he seeks to find, is it the one who’s a proud diver fan or the one who has nothing but someone else’s dreams?

this is very, very confusing for an adolescent who had it all stripped from him. kazakami thought he had an idea of himself before, but it’s all proving to be wrong as the time passes. he wasn’t someone that get sad about figurines — but now he heard his feelings out loud. he wasn’t someone who would lose his time with football, girls and other frivolous things — but is he the one who his father want him to be?

sensei has a talent for portraying confusion and deep, weird emotions we all felt as teenagers (the seek for our identity, the chance we need to be who we are), so it wouldn’t be different now. what we’re seeing of kazakami is only the beginning of his journey of finding who he is and who he want to be. and now, to make things even better, we have a new mother who’s ready to show the world how strong and capable she is without all of them.

thank you for reading!!!! what a nice feeling to have another amazing chapter, huh?? hope you guys liked it, will love to discuss it more with you 💛

[riddles-n-games]

Whispered Protests

ROHAN

"-sure it's this way? I thought we were supposed to take the left turn before."

"Leave it alone, Gigi. I told you to go that-”

He stopped in his tracks when he heard the voices. Gigi and Savannah. They were heading down the hall but it seemed a disagreement was going on. Rohan immediately backed up to the wall and quietly moved down toward the main hall.

“-can split up and you can go another way to search for the clue. What’s wrong with that? You anyways don’t want me to be with you all the time since you claim I hover a lot. Why not now when I’m asking and it’s likely going to be quicker this way for you to be the one to find it.” “Well, I didn’t want to leave when I saw that you were so affected. Plus, you’re always there for me, why shouldn’t I do the same for you?”

“Geeg, I appreciate the concern but right now I just need to be alone. For a little while, I need to be myself and have time to think.”

“But…”

“Please, I’ll text you and call if it’s worse, okay? Just fifteen minutes to myself.”

He heard her twin sigh. “Okay. But I’ll be making some tea for you tonight and bringing you cookies, too.”

Savannah snorted. “Of course.”

Rohan assumed they were hugging so he braced himself for a little longer of a wait. Savannah was acting off; she was always insistent on being near her sister and rarely strayed from her side especially during the challenges. From their short time on the island, he observed that she was rather reserved, quiet, pensive, very intelligent and snarky when she wanted to be, but most defining of all was that she was very protective of Gigi. He also sensed that beneath that controlled exterior she was hiding something but that wasn't exclusive to her; all the participants had their secrets including himself.

Gigi was leaving and only when he heard her footsteps receding did he dare peak out from his hidden corridor. Savannah’s back was facing him; she appeared to be watching her sister go until she finally disappeared around the corner and he saw his opportunity. When she started to turn, he slipped back into position with an arm against the wall.

He heard her exhale heavily and her shoes scuff on the floor. One, two, three, four. She was on the move. Five, six. Pause. Seven, eight, nine. She was closer and he wondered if she knew that he was there or just taking her time. Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Sixteen, seventeen. There was no pattern to her beat and it irked him but he continued to count with bated breath.

Eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one. She had to know he was there, she had to. Relative to him, she wasn’t that far away and could have passed him by then but she hadn’t. There was no way she wasn’t doing this on purpose. Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirt- Her hand came into view. He stopped breathing and held it, stiffening his posture; this was his chance. Next he saw her white tennis shoe and his hand shot out, yanking her into his hiding spot.

In record time, he whirled around with her and switched their positions, Savannah against the wall and him in front of her. He’d spun them around so fast that it even blindsided him, a side effect of trained fast reflexes which gave him the advantage against his opponents in the ring. But this was different. Savannah may have been his opponent in the Grandest Game but not one in a game that begged the question of life and death although from his perspective it still was. He had to win to get the Prospector’s final approval and become the secured heir of the Devil’s Mercy. But, lately he had been… distracted, to say the least.

He looked at her, trying to slow his own racing heart and loosened his hold on her hand. She hadn't looked up, clearly in shock from the sudden intrusion on her silent loathing but then she did.

“Rohan?” she asked breathlessly. Her eyes were wide with confusion, ponytail a little loose, and chest heaving. She was beautiful. He took her in slowly until she snapped him out of it. "What are you doing here? Why did you do that?" She pushed at him to put a little space between them, making him slightly fumble.

"Hmm? Oh, I wanted to speak with you. In private or as private as you can get around here."

"Ok-ay, and you didn't think to schedule a meet instead of this?"

"A man like me knows when to take his chances, love."

"Don't call me that. I told you already."

He smirked, she always got flustered when he called her that. Rohan 1, Savannah 0. If things were going to continue this way, he could easily get what he wanted and he usually did. After all, when was the last time a lady complained about his charm? He certainly couldn't remember. "My apologies. I’ll cut to the chase; I believe we should address what’s going on between us.”

There was a heavy silence as she took that in. “What do you mean by that? There’s nothing between us.”

He arched a brow at her skeptically. Denial. And she was playing dumb, that was the game he was dealing with. Women. Well, he knew it wasn’t going to be easy but hated going through this phase with girls. Hence why he was still single. “Are you really going to play that card? You’re intelligent, darling, but I didn’t think you’d stoop down to this level.”

She glared at him. “Genuinely, what are you talking about? I said the truth; there is nothing between us. There never was.”

Rohan sighed but the frustration was halfhearted. “Apparently you’re the only one to think so because I guarantee you everyone else on this island thinks otherwise. Don’t pretend, everyone has noticed something by now about our interactions. We both know dear old Miss Morales is certainly not senile. And I’m willing to bet that your twin has teased you about it more than once. Am I wrong, Miss Grayson?”

Her glare grew steely and there was a slight twitch in her undereye. His only response was raising his other eyebrow and stared at her, daring her to tell him different. For a long moment, they engaged in a heated staring contest, each waiting for the other to give up and bow out. The tension in the air with minimal space between them was growing too thick that neither dared to breathe, too focused on making the other break eye contact.

Finally, she rolled her eyes and looked away, huffing in annoyance. Rohan smirked triumphantly; he’d been trying to hold back a sly grin since she started staring at him so dubiously.

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.” She shook her head before tucking a loose hair behind her ear. Suddenly he wished very much that she’d have let him do that instead.

"Well, unfortunate of you to be the one setting this in the What Makes You Beautiful music video and One Direction isn't even together to sing it for your little set up here. What a great scene this would be if you were the very naïve main character attracting the jock in a high school flick but sweetheart, hate it to break it to you-"

"Shut up!" Savannah's eyes widened and then she covered her mouth with both hands, surprised by her own outburst. Rohan backed up a little. Slowly, she let her hands drop and her shoulder relaxed again as she exhaled and took in a calming breath to recollect. "I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me just then. Look, do you have anything actually valid to say worth my time or are you just-"

"Why yes, I was just about to say what a shame it is that the band aren't here to sing the song for us live. Really inconsiderate of them not getting back together by now when they still have millions of fans waiting on them. I remember seeing them once at the 2012 Olympics closing-"

"Rohan!"

"Yes, milady? Are you ready to admit we are going on a wild goose chase which is very unnecessary if you ask me." He flashed a bright grin.

"Would you just-Ugh, Duncan never infuriated me this much," she muttered. His smile dimmed. Her old boyfriend was a sour topic and though he knew very little about him, he did find out what a bastard he was thanks to Gigi. He also realized this was it; Savannah’s vulnerable centre and maybe it was just a small part but was prominent enough that he could peek through the crack. It showed there were chinks in her armor and he didn’t have to probe, just harmlessly rile her up to get something out of her. Despite him having more work to get around that, he called it a start. 

But he ignored his selfish ambition for once. Her past did concern him and she clearly was having a hard time recovering from it. Yet, he didn’t want to make it worse so he went on with a lighthearted jab at her old boyfriend. “Well, he was obviously missing something because he didn’t have the same chemistry that you and I have from simple flirtations.”

"Really? I don't recall ever flirting with you. Are you sure you weren't hallucinating that? I was simply being polite and getting to know you."

He grinned again, happy she took his opening for banter. "I'm sorry I misinterpreted if that's the case but I don't think we've been talking niceties for a while. Maybe you just forgot what it's like for a guy to be interested in you and not so subtly flirting since you've been off the market. Until now." His grin was more than a little devious and he was sure Savannah saw the mischief in his eyes promising more.

She gulped and looked down, suddenly shy. "We can't do this, Rohan. Not here.”

“Why not?” “Because anyone can find us here. I-” But he wasn’t listening as he was already leaning in, kissing where her jaw met her throat. Her breathing hitched and she stilled at the contact. “Rohan,” she hissed. He simply smiled; she may have been verbally protesting but in the same moment, he felt her fingers digging into his shoulder blades. She liked it.

This was one of the things he was best at; seduction. But it wasn’t because he truly wanted to, not then at least. He wasn't quite sure what he was feeling for her but it certainly wasn't the same thing he had felt with other girls. He trailed little kisses across her jaw, at the corner of her mouth before his lips were hovering right above hers. Their breaths mingled. For a moment, they were frozen in time, neither moving or backing away and like earlier, each waiting for the other to make a move. And then he did.

He slowly closed the gap, savoring the feel of her acceptance as he cupped her jaw. Her lips felt chapped and bitten from her bad lip chewing habits and the taste of strawberry lip balm made them sweet. But knowing that it was going to come off due to him kissing her and her having to reapply made him smile. However that ended their kiss too soon and Savannah wasn’t liking that at all.

She caught him by surprise when she pulled him back down as her hands tugged at his jacket collar. Her eager mouth was insistent when their lips met again. His eyes opened in surprise but brought up his other hand to her jaw and tipped her head back further, deepening the kiss. This one lasted much longer until the need to breathe was greater.

They shared a few more short kisses, Savannah initiating a few more as if her courage had finally won until he decided he wanted a longer one again. She leaned into him this time and kept her arms pressed to his chest as he shifted his lips against hers. As it ended, he playfully grazed her bottom lip and she gasped, pulling away with a bright red flush in her neck and cute blushing pink cheeks. He smiled, feeling very satisfied. He did that, he made her that way. His ego was roaring, this was a win. Ugh, pride was an ugly thing sometimes but he didn’t mind it when he got a pretty girl blushing. There was some amazing chemistry between them and if he got to kiss her a few more times like that, he’d be landing on the moon. He could imagine her being his and then he could see her smile more, blush at him like that, hear her rare laugh that drove him crazy and… and that’s when he crashed back to reality. Remember your goals, why you’re here. This was the girl he deemed the queen he sought-no-needed to bring down. She was a means to an end; it was still part of his grand plan. He hadn’t lost sight of that but he also felt somewhat torn about going through with it.

Plus, there was still plenty of time before he had to twist the knife. A break from the clues and challenges never hurt. After all, getting a moment away from the Game was rare and ones like these came along even more uncommonly. Savannah herself looked like she needed it; they both did. This was something real and raw, a memory he could look back on fondly amidst the scattered mess of his life.

And she deserved better than that. Rohan knew he wasn’t being any better than that scumbag ex of hers, but after he saw a glimpse of that aching heart, bleeding and wounded from so much… He owed her something real of himself too. He took a breath and spoke in a hushed tone, “I like you, Savannah.”

She looked at him with devastation as her mouth quivered, still freshly red from their kiss. “I have to go.” And she ran down the hall. Rohan sighed. Apparently that was too forward.

A/N: Tagging @hiya-itsamber since she asked to be notified. For the rest of y’all, come hell or high water. Hope you enjoyed!

[saucerfulofsins]

Same anon as before, and wow, you really get it.

And I know we can’t really say for certain what he was meaning in those interviews…he seemed pretty scattered, and maybe he was coming off a certain way and we’re just reading it wrong. But I really don’t think so.

Judging from the stuff people found from his older social media days, he seems like a pretty misogynistic guy, and that typically goes hand in hand with being homophobic and a bigot. That’s just a fact.

I think it’s shitty for him to take a job playing a character that he in his real life would most likely want nothing to do with, but I guess if the money is right someone like that will do whatever.

My husband clocked it immediately and said, “oh this man is way too much of an asshole to play a gay man, he’s hating this.” And I was like, so you see it too??? I guess it wasn’t just my Buddie obsessed brain running into overdrive.

I think it’s a shame because Oliver clearly put so much care into playing a bi character and that meant so much to me as a bi person. Oliver did everything perfectly and is so sweet and gentle about it, and he got stuck with such a creep to do his scenes with. I just hope it’s over soon.

Yeah, so... like I said in the tags on my previous response, I know a lot of guys who aren't homophobic. Like, "will kiss other guys for fun" and "are open to the possibility of being attracted to/falling in love with a man" not-homophobic. (Also, these men are distinct from bicurious because they know they aren't into men).

And LFJ's interview read as the opposite. You know how sometimes people with no knowledge still sound like they're at least accepting, in their own way? This sounds like someone with minimal knowledge trying to pass as accepting. And he's failing.

Even if things are coming off wrong, I think it's pretty egregious that someone who is a professional actor doesn't interview well at all, as well as nobody who wants him portrayed positively stopping the release of this interview. I don't think ABC needs him to be a shining light of representation (I don't think they WANT him to be at this point, the interview matches the vibes in the deleted scene), but his agency not taking measures here is fucking weird.

But yeah. It's the while package isn't it? The egocentrism, the focus on masculine masculinity and being cool, the misogyny he doesn't even CLOCK (sorry but why did Hen have to prove herself BECAUSE shes a woman?), the whole "lgbt spectrum" thing (huerk red flag), the trump support, racism etc etc on top of the uhh nepo baby vibes all of which just fucking send me. So much of this ISNT difficult!

And like yeah, actually Oliver is the opposite end of the... for lack of a better word, spectrum. He uses the word bisexual! He's doing this with a very clear intention, he's very open about Buck, and I'll be honest, I find it VERY refreshing. I know some younger actors (late teens/early 20s) have been cool about queerness, but having someone my actual age have these takes is... very healing, I won't lie. Because there definitely is a big difference in those 10 years and how we grew up?

But yeah, I can't imagine Tommy staying on the show. The fact he was meant to stay for 4 is kinda telling to begin with, and I personally wouldn't be surprised if they leaned into LFJ's creep vibes to aid Tommy's characterization. That's interesting because LFJ doesn't seem to realize any of that which... very telling! Very limited!! Tommy and Buck aren't very close, but for me, his absence during Chim's bachelor party is VERY telling. There's no reason Tommy had to leave, from a writer's perspective. That emergency was fake. It wouldn't have taken much of LFJ's time to be at those shoots, especially considering he was there for some of it anyway. And the party was important to Buck!!!! (Eddie looked so bitchy! The Buddie couple costume to hammer their pairing home! Etc).

So yeah. I fully believe it will be over soon, because there's just nothing there and besides LFJ and a handful of fans, I haven't seen any full support for the pairing... least of all from the show. He's as flat as flat characters come, a complete stereotype, and that for a show that rests predominantly on its characters! It's pretty damning, actually.

I guess what I'm hoping for is Tommy showing up a couple more times, Buck realising Tommy's hella toxic AND recognising his own patterns, breaking up with him, and figuring out not just what bisexuality really means to him but also the kind of relationship BUCK wants (versus someone else prompting Buck/falling for ONE aspect of him and never seeing the rest). He deserves that much, above everything else, and I don't think Tommy is leaving ANY room for that (possibly the least of all his relationships) .

[hazelnut-u-out]

Something that’s always bothered me is the presentation of the infamous ‘Mr. Jellybean’ scene in Meeseeks and Destroy versus the Planetina plotline in A Rickconvenient Mort.

(TW for grooming)

On first watch, we know Mr. Jellybean is terrible. In my opinion, I always thought they handled that whole plotline rather well. It wasn’t played for laughs or made light of, we see the emotional effect on Morty, they don’t attempt to make the predator sympathetic, and we see Rick step up as ‘Grandpa’ for one of the first times ever— to kill a pedophile, no less. Pretty strong morality alignment on that one.

Suddenly, though, when the predator is no longer an older man, but an older woman, it’s… shitty, sure, but not explicitly wrong.

On my first watch, I thought A Rickconvenient Mort was pretty blatantly a statement piece on grooming. Planetina follows textbook grooming tactics, including lovebombing, isolation, manipulation, and gaslighting. She plays into the classic ‘very mature young man.' We even have Beth as a voice of reason, finally stepping up to the plate to protect her son after what seems to be years of emotional neglect. We watch that very neglect backfire on her concern and push Morty further into this relationship. I initially thought it was a play on grooming the viewer, as well, because of the way it’s told essentially from Morty’s ‘puppy love’/‘first love’ point of view and leaves you feeling just the right amount of unsettled after the ending.

So, you could imagine my surprise when I realized that not everyone (in fact, less people than I had expected) initially clocked Planetina as a sketchy/predatory character.

So, I did what any great journalist would do— rewatched. And rewatched. And rewatched.

I wanted to form a nuanced opinion, but I came out on the other side wondering why we never got a moment with Planetina that clearly shows us she’s a condemnable character in the relationship with Morty and not just because of her methods of activism.

I think we’re actually supposed to agree with Morty in this scene, which was not my first reaction.

The age difference is obviously something they intended to be a main plot point for this storyline, as well. The explicit references to it (Morty's age, in particular) were put there for a reason, from the beginning of the episode all the way to the climax.

In a lot of ways, it makes sense to assume that maybe they didn't want to explicitly state it was wrong (though, they do through Beth, in my opinion).

That would explain why so much of A Rickconvenient Mort is set up using textbook grooming tactics; why we never see Planetina outright condemned, but see Morty emotionally destroyed and confused; why we’re (arguably) supposed to agree with Morty over Beth; why we follow Planetina all the way up to when her facetious face of peace and ambivalence crumbles.

Of course, I’m not trying to assume anything, but it does make me wonder what leads someone to write a character in this way— and even promote her as a character at times (like this post, which is captioned 'Tag your Planetina').

Then again, maybe my initial interpretation was correct and all of this was the result of a conscious choice to write and direct an episode from the point of view of Morty as a victim. I mean, it wouldn’t be too far off to assume something like that as we’ve seen them do it time and time again, just with Rick as the abuser. Think of Mortynight Run, The Vat of Acid Episode, and the new infamous episodes: A Rick in King Mortur’s Mort & Ricktional Mortpoon’s Rickmas Mortcation, just to name a few.

Maybe A Rickconvenient Mort is another one of the episodes intended to show Morty’s perspective and frame his loss of innocence as he views it, not as adults/outsiders view it.

It could be a cool contrast between how Rick protects Morty from these sorts of situations versus how Beth does.

(Disclaimer: I’m NOT saying that there aren’t different types of abuse and different appearances to abusers/predators! I just feel like both of these types of abuse/assault can be explicitly depicted as wrong.)

[ananke-xiii]

There's a line from s11e20 "Don't call me Shurley" that got stuck into my little nogging and it's when Chuck tells Metatron "You were just the closest angel to the door when I walked into the room".

Now assuming that Chuck is a lying liar who lies I still like this line because it says way more about Chuck than about Metatron. Then Chuck goes on and delivers his cheap shot: "There's nothing special about you, Metatron. Not then… not now".

(Little aside: AND THEN Amara comes in a few episodes later and calls Metatron "The secretary"?! I mean, how can people not love her? Yes, she might have eaten a few souls so what? Sue her! He brother has eliminated WORLDS because Dean wouldn't bend the knee to him, who's the crazy sibling, huh? *insert a meta about Dean only willing to bend the knee to Cas in Purgatory and all the entendres intended*).

Anyway, for all his pettiness and shrewdness (Metatron is a great villain and I will die on this hill), Metatron replies with surprising grace:

"And I don't care if I was just the angel nearest the door. You picked me. Your light shined on me – Me! Oh, and the warmth. But then you left me. You left all of us."

My little fragile heart trembled a little to these words because... well, it's like the OG trauma, isn't it? To be chosen by your parents, to be loved unconditionally, to be somebody's favorite person... Oh, the warmth.

And so it hit me, I finally saw why I love SPN's angels so much. They are ALL (Cas included) a bunch of children screaming and kicking their feet because they want to be loved, thinking that if they follow their orders, if they fulfill their duties they will be loved.

They are all Lucifer minus the action and the mark.

These are Chuck's words to soothe Lucifer in "We Happy Few": I did. I was supposed to love all creation equally. I wasn’t supposed to have favorites. But you… You were mine. I gave you the Mark because I loved you the most, because I thought you were strong enough to bear it. And when I saw that I was wrong… When I watched my choice devour my most cherished son, I hated myself, and so I punished you. And I am so sorry."

Yes, Chuck is a lying liar who lies. Maybe he chose Lucifer because he was the one closest to the door. Who knows? Chuck doesn't care. Every angel's deepest desire is to be loved by God, to be the chosen one, to be his favorite. Which is both sad and... human? I guess it's a tragedy from the human perspective but maybe the human perspective is limited.

I don't really like the finale with Jack as God for a variety of reasons but, conceptually, the idea of a half-angel and half-human (Kelly Kline you will NOT be forgotten) becoming god is not that bad (Hello Jesus!). Especially if the half-angel part is theoretically (well in pratice too but I mean biology what amirite?)Lucifer's. Because, as Sam says in "We Happy Few": I-I can’t believe I’m actually about to say this, but… um. Lucifer is right.

At the end of the day, SPN as a narrative, did, in a very convoluted and maybe unintentional way, agree with Lucifer.

Like, Lucifer was right. And I know that if we put on our morality glasses Lucifer is evil incarnate etc but honestly? By the same lensens, the whole heavenly host is kinda evil. They ALL (Cas included) did a lot of pretty horrible stuff. All the horror and the pain for a God that doesn't care.

So I guess what should have been explored in Dabb's era was not so much nurture vs nature but more "what does it mean to be half-angel?" 'Cause really, ALL angels are a little bit like Lucifer. And if no angel really represents "good" what are we, humans, left with? Does the question "nurture vs nature" even make sense?

There's really nothing SPECIAL about any of us, humans, angels, demons, monsters. We ALL want to just be chosen and loved unconditionally. It turns out angels are not that different from humans, aren't they?

[betabravo]

Snippet: Homeroom Miruko (Deus MHA AU) Part 2

Nope, not easy. Not at all.

Rumi was invited to the staff meeting before the recommendation exams, in order to introduce the new teachers. Namely, her and ALL MIGHT (and wasn’t THAT a surprise). Sure, she’s a Pro Hero with years of experience, but she has absolutely zero experience teaching the next generation. Doesn’t mean she can’t gain some right now. Still though, where to start?

 “So what am I supposed to look out for? I only know to read up on the files, but that’s it.” Aizawa looked at his understudy and scoffed.

“Look at their histories, quirks, personalities, reasons for being recommended. Anything that shows potential for being a good Pro Hero… and anything that might cause problems, for themselves or other students.” Aizawa started going through the files, already having started sorting some into different piles.  “Make sure not to come up with early assumptions however. Sometimes records don't match the actual results, either being overexaggerated, underplayed or even mistaken when taken from a wrong perspective. Plus we know nothing about their personalities or them as a person at this point, so keep an open mind.”

… Holy crap, that was actually good advice. Ah well, first time for everything, might as well get started. Let’s see what the next generation of heroes can bring. Maybe this teacher thing won’t be so bad after all.

///

First/Next

And here's part 2 of my current trip to fanfic writing. Any advice or critics are welcome. Please be nice.

[charmedreincarnation]

https://www.tumblr.com/charmedreincarnation/715801428071972864/hey-maya-what-are-your-thoughts-on-the?source=share

Not this anon but wait that means I can manifest a certain afterlife? Like there isn't one destined afterlife but it can be whatever we want it to be?

I wish there was a voice audio setting because I would tell you guys so many stories! but anyways I’ll tell you guys about a specific occurrence that happened when I was around 13/16 that changed my perspective on everything.

Basically I used to go to church often . My family is pretty religious, and at the time, I wasn’t even really religious, but I still followed Christianity. I had gotten into manifesting but I still believed in god pretty avidly (and still do just not in a religious way) so I didn’t mind going.

Anyways there was this super religious girl who I would talk to everytime I went. guys I mean she was giving cult. Cross tattoos, Bible reading club everyday, and she could read the Bible word for word backwards probably! I don’t really like super avidly religious people who make their entire life abt god and every conversation abt it, but idk for her I could tolerate it. She was super sweet and her passion was admirable.

I remember she stopped coming to church and I knew something was wrong because this girl would rather die than miss service. Turns out she was in an accident and was probably going to die, so we held a huge fundraiser for her family. At the time I didn’t know what happened to her because no one talked about it after the fundraiser and I didn’t have her phone number so I just assumed she died.

Then when I was 16, so atp pretty into manifesting and not into church anymore I saw her at a tarot shop.. that she owned. Now it’s a general consensus astrology, tarots and stuff is against Christianity. (not that I cared regardless I still was into that shit) but The Sarah (fake name) I knew Would never step foot into what she called a “devil worshipping temple”

But it was definitely her and she looked so different. She used to have long brown hair, wore traditional clothing, would never show skin etc. this girl had a pixie cut with black hair, so many tattoos of sigils and zodiac stuff on her body, so many piercings, and was wearing booty shorts!! I almost didn’t recognize her but she said hi to me and I was in shock. This bitch owns a crystal shop.. Holy Sarah owns a crystal shop!! atp I believed the rapture was about to start bc what the hell

Anyways I asked her how she was and what happened, because I assumed she was dead. And she said she was. She had been officially dead for 5 straight seconds, but was “brought” back with those machines. I told her she looks good but why the change in lifestyle. she said when she died, she was in a black space of nothing but still had thoughts. She didn’t see Jesus or the purgatory or whatever, all she had was herself. She was crying to herself in this void like space as she knew it was the end, and the atheists were right. We become nothing when we die. Then she just wished to come back, and she said she would do anything to come back, and then she did. She awoke again and when she did she got into spirituality and it changed her life.

16 year old me at this point was pretty deep into my spiritual research and she basically confirmed what I had believed since I was 8. We choose what happenes when we die and we can do the same for our life on earth. I pretty much talked to her for hours, until I had to go because my mom doesn’t want me in those “weird” shops either. Anyways I assume the “space” she was in was the void state, but I didn’t know what that was until the end of 2021 ofc so I couldn’t make the connection at the time.

But I mean it makes sense. we have free will, so if we can decide every aspect of our life while alive, why would that change at death. death isn’t the end, just a beginning of whatever new chapter you want or believe it to be. Just my belief ofc :) you’re inclined to believe whatever !

[typellblog]

Tsubasa Cat - An Analysis

In an interesting move for a post theoretically about Hanekawa I am prompted rather unsubtly by the text to begin with Hitagi. Specifically, her first date with Araragi.

In the anime, this is the last TV episode, and all things considered it’s not an unreasonable place to finish. This story, to some extent, is not about Araragi, but about Araragi’s relationship with Hitagi. She is important to every other arc (besides, perhaps, Nadeko Snake, which is interesting in its own right, but I digress). 

What I like about this scene is how it’s mirrored – it starts with Hitagi’s stumbling attempts at asking Araragi on a date, and ends with her stumbling attempts at asking him for a kiss. During the torturous (to Araragi) car ride with Hitagi’s father, she talks about – as if at random – Araragi’s studies, Kanbaru, and her father. During the second half, when they’re alone, she makes it clear that this was a deliberate showcase of all of the things that she has – everything she can offer to Araragi as his girlfriend.

This transition is accomplished through the midpoint of Araragi’s conversation with her father, which begins awkwardly and then veers into the heartfelt – ‘take care of my daughter’ is at first uttered as a joke and then once again more seriously when the conversation ends.

It gives us another perspective on Hitagi, telling us that the only people she felt comfortable speaking her mind to were people she didn’t mind being hated by, and people who would never hate her. We see that Araragi started as the first and became the second. But just as Hitagi’s father underrates his importance to her, seeing himself as in the first rather than the second category, so does Araragi. He feels uncomfortable being given the credit for helping Hitagi open up to others. He wasn’t the one who did it, after all. She just went ahead and saved herself. It didn’t need to be him, specifically. Anyone could have been there for her.

As Hitagi’s father points out, however, that alone is enough. The simple fact that he was there for her is enough to earn her gratitude. There’s nothing wrong with that.

And it’s with that in mind that we move outside, to see the stars.

This is also one of the few things that Hitagi can give to Araragi. Not the stars themselves of course, not even the specific location outside the observatory, but rather the memory. It’s a memory of a time that her family was still together. A memory that was reclaimed from the Weight Crab in no small part thanks to Araragi himself.

When Araragi is asked in the car what he loves about her, he’s too nervous to answer. When he flips the question back on her, she answers smoothly, ironically. It’s a total defeat.

When Araragi is asked now, he answers easily. Everything. Everything that she’s shown him tonight, he accepts. When he asks her again in response, she gives the same answer, but in this context, we realise she was being dead serious earlier.

It’s the kind of response that fits Hitagi’s specific brand of brashness paired with vulnerability. It’s the kind of recontextualization that fits this series. And as an affirmation of their love for one another it’s an appropriate jumping-off point for what Araragi is about to go through in this arc.

But before we get to that, I want to note that the way this arc is reliant on previously established events that we haven’t actually read about yet is quite aberrant.

The difference positions Hanekawa differently from the other characters. She’s not someone that Araragi meets because of oddity problems, she’s someone he’s known for a while already. Unlike the other characters, she’s stable - doesn’t need fixing. Her oddity problem has already been resolved, and she slips comfortably into the role of supporting character from before she’s even introduced.

If Araragi’s developing relationship with Senjougahara is the throughline of Bakemonogatari, then his relationship with Hanekawa is its dark reflection. She appears in every arc, but never gets involved directly, never changes as a result. She tells him this. I never change. It’s a lie.

On a narrative level as well as a personal one Hanekawa is sidelined, ignored, taken for granted, and it is essentially this failure to address her that feeds the Sawari Neko.

It’s an interestingly contradictory oddity. As its name suggests, it ‘meddles’, doing things for the host that they in some way needed but didn’t have the desire to act on. It was triggered by the act of picking it up from the side of the road and giving it a proper burial. It could easily be ignored, but ignoring things like that is not in the nature of Hanekawa Tsubasa. She sweats the small stuff, she does things that are expected of anyone but nobody actually does, she projects the image of an ‘ordinary’ person, and in doing so comes off as more extraordinary than anyone else.

She goes out of her way to help the cat, and the cat goes out of its way to help her, because for all her kindness and compassion she doesn’t reserve any for herself.

The ability of the Sawari Neko is energy drain. It’s the inverse of her usually supportive nature, the selfish ability to take from others in order to make herself feel better.

Since we’ve mentioned how the oddity’s quirks informs Hanekawa’s own issues, let’s continue with the classics and talk about the characteristic Monogatari twist. You see, Araragi tells us, the typical twist with these cat monsters is the reveal that there was no cat monster. A virtuous woman acts strangely at night, becoming a harlot and wandering the streets. She must be possessed! Entrapped by a monster! No, she’s just doing that on her own. The idea that she couldn’t possibly want to do that is your own assumption – how well do you really know her?

This is a theme that has been explored in Bakemonogatari already, with the case of Kanbaru Suruga. She was afflicted by a devil, yes, but the devil only gave her the ability to achieve desires that she actually held. Hanekawa’s case is an expansion of this – the monster is in a very real sense part of Hanekawa herself. But we understand this already. There is no need to belabor the point that Tsubasa Hanekawa is, herself, gaining some benefit by the cat’s actions. This is how oddities work. They arise for a reason.

And thus, the twist of the previous cat incident, the one that we haven’t actually seen yet, is skipped over. Or rather, it is told to us directly. Hanekawa faces a terrible family situation. Her parents aren’t really her parents. Her overwhelming stress from this causes the cat to assault others, including those same parents. 

Instead of this, we get a new, more dramatic twist. The cause of the stress this time was not her parents, as Araragi assumes. It was her feelings towards him.

Stress is a curious thing. The word must come up a dozen times in these few episodes – I can still hear the drawl of Oshino’s voice as he pronounces the English loanword.

For my money, the most interesting portrayal of Hanekawa’s stress here is seen in the opening for this arc. Or should I say both openings? There’s a photo version as well as the more usual animated one this time.

I would say the theme here in the first one is ‘wandering’ – we’re given names of different countries for each shot of Hanekawa walking around. A reference to her plans to travel after graduation, I suppose. But the pictured locations aren’t actually different – all washed through the same grey filter, all seemingly Naoetsu rather than overseas. Hanekawa’s post-graduation plans are paralleled with her habit of walking around town on holidays to avoid her parents.

It’s another view of something that seems to Araragi quite impressive and unconventional. Perhaps she simply does not know where to go, would rather be anywhere but here. If her walks are a way of avoiding one source of stress, her parents, then her travel might be pegged as a way of avoiding the other – Araragi himself.

The fear of being trapped is heightened in the second rendition. Now we see her actually running from something, hands grasping to pull her back, strapped motionlessly to a set of train tracks.

The thing I’m most curious about, though, are the opening and ending shots of her standing on the bridge, long hair trailing to either side. Different versions of Hanekawa – the second is the cat – but the same solemn expression. It’s enough to make us doubt that they’re separate characters at all, and indeed that’s the point. We’re shown not just Kuro Hanekawa, but Kuro as Hanekawa.

Kuro Hanekawa is an interesting character.

She can’t lie because she’s too direct and unthinking to bother. Contrast regular Hanekawa’s assertion that she doesn’t lie – one that’s patently untrue. To her, keeping up appearances and responding in a way consistent with her ‘normal’ persona is more honest and upstanding than revealing her true feelings. To be reductive, if Kuro tells the truth because she’s to dumb to lie, the Hanekawa lies because she’s too smart, too socially conscious to be honest.

Kuro in her lack of regard for societal norms can be considered a manifestation of Hanekawa’s stress, but she doesn’t embody it. She, herself, is easily able to fess up to her master’s (note the reference to her as a different person) feelings. She is indifferent towards humans, not actively hostile. Her random energy drain attacks were done to relieve stress, but Araragi’s alternative method of Shinobu is also perfectly acceptable to her. Not only do their vibes and behaviour differ, but so are their personalities and priorities – the cat is functionally a different person.

In this light, the anime’s portrayal of their dialogue is interesting. During this scene he initially refuses to believe what the cat is saying, his idealized perception of Hanekawa preventing him from recognizing her hidden emotions. He mistakes her refusal to show any sort of outward jealousy for her incapability of doing so.

But look at how the ghostly presence of regular Hanekawa reaches out to Araragi along with Kuro’s words. See how Araragi gently addresses her rather than Kuro – Kuro as Hanekawa instead of either Kuro or Hanekawa. Later his perceptions shift, Kuro’s dialogue delivered through reused frames of Hanekawa talking to him in the classroom, Hanekawa’s mannerisms like the mysterious opaque glasses recontextualized in Kuro’s paws – Hanekawa as Kuro. It becomes clear that Kuro is merely giving voice to things that Hanekawa really does feel.

As such, he’s able to give a genuine answer, saying that he loves Hitagi. Kuro Hanekawa, for her part, is not particularly surprised or bothered, simply moving to her next step in the plan to relieve her master’s stress.

She tries to kill him.

Once again building on Kanbaru’s arc, Araragi is forced to seriously consider dying in order to solve the problem. Hanekawa is someone he owes a great debt to. Would it really be that bad? Yes!

Hitagi would kill Hanekawa. Here we have the same excuse as Kanbaru’s case. I don’t want to say it’s wrong, she absolutely would, but the point lies more in what it represents. Her feelings for him. Everything that he promised to give to her. It’s not actually an ideal resolution of the situation, even if we accept that his life is as cheap as he makes it out to be. Because something that cheap can only be traded for one person’s happiness. Everyone else who cares about him (including Hanekawa) would be worse off for it.

The real solution is to ask for help. This has been partially demonstrated already, on the hunt for Shinobu. Hanekawa rubs it in, with her little lie about vampire fascination. None of the girls he met him him because they were brainwashed, they agreed because they care about him. They are each people that Araragi has to one extent or another participated in saving. Oshino Meme says that people can only save themselves, but Araragi doesn’t share that opinion when it comes down to it.

He believes firmly that Hanekawa saved him. Just by being there, a person can drag you out of the deepest and darkest of depths. Araragi has done the same for several others. So, isn’t it alright to ask for help oneself? To not feel as though you’re being a burden on others, but can instead rely on them equally?

This is the realization he came to, the root behind Shinobu’s disappearance. Kuro Hanekawa says he was getting too used to oddities, too friendly with them, not respecting their power and legend enough. He was treating Shinobu as a child, hardly feeling as if he had the right to even speak to her. Thus, she disappeared, until he called her back. Until he relied on her.

She, the ur-example of the people he has been risking his life to help, as well as the source of his vampiric abilities that enable him to do so.

As of our current position in the story, we don’t know what caused their current relationship. But we do know that as an oddity capable of draining the life from others, even the selfish Meddlecat is handily outclassed by a vampire. And yet Shinobu willingly stops draining when requested. Araragi willingly gives her his own blood. If the cat is Hanekawa cut loose, free from social standards and bothersome human emotions, then what does being afflicted by a vampire mean to Araragi exactly?

Hanekawa ends this arc by falling asleep, returned once again to her regular state. But as she crosses the thin line between dreams and reality, she lets some unfiltered thoughts slip out.

You have to shape up. The impersonal framing of debts doesn’t represent Araragi’s true feelings. Just as ‘not wanting Hanekawa to exploit his debt to her’ wasn’t the real reason why he rejects her, ‘I care more about my debt to you than remaining friends’ is a really awkward way of him saying he just wants to help her. He struggles to admit this because, I think, of his belief he can’t really save anyone. He’s almost embarrassed to admit he’s trying.

In the end, though, he can’t take the same lackadaisical attitude as Oshino Meme. He can’t help but get involved in others’ personal issues, to put people’s wellbeing over the most effective way of resolving a situation, even if that person happens to be an oddity themselves.

However – is this really such a bad way of handling things? Araragi blurs the line between oddity and human, but he’s been getting half-decent at walking that tightrope lately. Knowing this, Oshino leaves town, trusting Araragi to handle both Shinobu’s disappearance and Hanekawa’s transformation.

Oshino himself – his lackadaisical attitude is ultimately just an attitude. His actions reveal a certain level of sympathy for Araragi’s priorities. His fees, his manipulations, his harsh words, all show a certain awkwardness on his part. He has an inability to be honest and act directly, one that balances out his true deep propensity for helping others.

Thus ends Bakemonogatari, a story about coming to terms with the monsters hidden in the darkness of the world. “For example, in my own shadow.” Araragi adds. Whatever being afflicted by a vampire means to him, it’s something he has to learn to live alongside with, not ignore.

Thus ends Bakemonogatari, but I’m looking forward to writing about the rest of the series very much as well. Took a stupid amount of time to muster up the mental energy for this one, but hopefully I can work a bit faster next time (I always say this and its never true lmao)

[fierceawakening]

So this post is going to be a bit rough and rambly but… I don’t know how we put this genie back in the box.

Do any of you remember when I’d freshly left the abusive relationship I was in and I read VORACIOUSLY, trying to figure out how I’d been taken in by such an awful person? (I vividly remember telling my dad about her saying I’m sure I’m gay because on my previous relationships with men I never thought I was in love, but this was so intense… well. I still wasn’t sure but I wondered if it might be.)

I read stuff like Why Does He Do That? and I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me. I also read things like The Sociopath Next Door and one of Hare’s books on psychopathy. I’m pretty sure my ex just had BPD, and I hasten to say even there that I have known many other people with BPD who I emphatically don’t think would treat me the way she did. I was trying to make sense of her, not trying to condemn anyone with a label I don’t have. (There are prosocial psychopaths, too.)

Mostly I was trying to make sense of her lack of remorse. She presented it as sexy and exciting—oh no, I don’t ever worry about taking kink too far, I don’t care what people think of me, I never give someone who wronged me a second chance.

I now see these as huge red flags and worried about them even then, but I tend to be someone who obsesses over whether I’m giving people a fair shake, so the idea of getting with her sounded like a fun vacation from scrupulosity.

It was actually “surely the leopard won’t eat MY face,” but I didn’t see it then.

Anyway. Around that time I got into a lot of arguments with people here who felt that putting too much stock into those books was inherently ableist.

The things the books said about lack of empathy, about how someone who lacks empathy treats even close loved ones as objects of use and not as full people, resonated with how I’d been treated by someone who professed to care about me. But it ruffled HARD the feathers of people for whom “lacking empathy” just means “beepy boopy, but not uncaring.” I have no solution to this—I think they’re two different phenomena that unfortunately have the same name (on tumblr. Not sure they do offline.)

Any double way. One thing I kept coming across in that research was the specter of the sociopathic leader. A charismatic public figure who charms a whole community or nation, and once they do that, rule with an iron fist.

The appeal was eerily similar to why I’d latched on to such a gross girlfriend. “Don’t you ever just want to go ape shitt,” basically. What if you don’t have to care? What if you get to put yourself, your family, your tribe, America First?

Doesn’t that take a load off your mind?

Those weird leftists who don’t understand God or gender or American exceptionalism… what if you don’t have to understand them anyway?

What if all you have to do is win?

My books said THAT is why we should continue to think of sociopathy as bad and people who have it as predators. Not because human rights stop mattering if someone isn’t neurotypical but because the attitude is infectious.

A person who thinks that way by default, if they’re charismatic (and many are), can EASILY get someone who doesn’t think that way to start wondering why they bother with perspective taking and empathy and remorse anyway.

Dehumanization is a virus, and people like that are carriers. The more power they have in a society, the more virulent the strain.

Do most people eventually snap out of it? I mean I’d better think so, my sister in law is German.

But how long does it take?

That I don’t know. And that’s what makes me think Trump might win.

And why I continue to think fighting ableism is important but ALSO to think acting like empathy is superfluous is playing with fire.

[azlan-snow]

Humble Beginnings(Radiobelle)

Chapter Eight: A Trying Mother

(Still told from Lillith’s POV)

“Hello, Charlotte.”

“Dad?”

“CHARLIE!”

“What are you doing here?”

“We’ve come to see you and your ‘redemption’ project,” I say. “But will you introduce us to your lovely residents first?”

“Of course!” She pulls Alastor down the rest of the stairs, taking him by surprise. “This is Alastor, my business partner!”  Alastor furrows at the introduction from her, and continues to introduce himself. “Quite a pleasure to meet you both, quite a pleasure.Your daughter is quite the demon belle.” His smile never fades as he looks at us, staring us down. He extends his hand to greet us, and I take it, seeing how much of a gentleman he is, but Lucifer, on the other hand, decides to decline, not liking how buddy-buddy he was acting with our daughter. “Come this way, Mom and Dad!” We follow her to the bar, when Lucifer speaks. “What in the UNHOLY Hell is that?”

“Just some of the reservations we had done, your Majesty. Adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t. I think it’s quite hideous.”

“Luci, that’s disrespectful,” I say, trying to be kind. 

“It’s true! It’s so tacky!”

“Dad, come on. Be nice! It adds color, just like Alastor said."

“Alastor. Your name sounds familiar,” I say, pondering where I had heard it from. “You’re the infamous Radio Demon, aren’t you. The one with the jazz and classical radio station.”

“That’s correct, Your Majesty,” Alastor says, congratulating her. “I’m surprised that the Queen of Hell knows who I am.”

“Yes, you have quite the reputation of carnage. Quite a feat, if you ask me. Congrats.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence. Thank you very much.” He looks at me with such pride, and looks down at Charlie, pupils dilating, and smile softening. “I noticed that the two of you have a special…bond per se. Is there anything you would like to tell us, Charlie?” Charlie blushes hard at the question, full of embarrassment. It seemed as if I asked the right question. 

“Unfortunately, no, Your Grace. Charlie and I are merely business partners, nothing more.” 

“Unfortunately, Alastor?”

“Yes.” 

“Sounds like someone needs to get a move on.”

“Mom!” Charlie, blushing even harder now from embarrassment, looks at her in stress. 

“What are you two talking about? You…like my daughter,” Lucifer asks, confused. 

“Yes. I do. Who would have thought the Radio Demon of all people would have stuck on somebody?  Never would I have thought I could love anyone, in life or in death. She proved me wrong. She deserves love. Love that you two failed to give her.” I was shocked by the comment, but remained emotionless. My husband, on the other hand, lost it. 

“How dare you! Insulting us in our faces!” Lucifer turns to his demonic form as he grabs Alastor by the neck and throws him against the nearest wall he could find. Alastor looks up at him, fear evident, but not affecting his decisions. He dodges Luci’s next attack as he releases hellfire.

“Dad, Stop! Please!” Charlie shouts at him running towards the fight. The closer she got the angrier she got. When she reached her father, she displayed the family resemblance: horns, red and black eyes, fire in between her horns, her adorable little tail, and angelic wings, just like her father. She pins him to the floor in a nice bodyslam that I believe was well-earned. “Mom, do you mind,”she asks, gesturing to my out-of-control husband. I walk over to her and pick up my squirming husband. “Luci, please. Calm down.”

“ Why should scum like you have our daughter?”

“Because your daughter changed me. She made me see things from a different perspective. I used to think that murdering people was the way to happiness, but she changed that. She showed me that there is happiness in people. She showed me how to love others, something I wasn’t capable of in life.” Charlie was in tears. Demon form still present, she rushed over to him and hugged him. His face shocked, then warmed up as he hugged her back.

“Thank you for loving my daughter, I say. “She deserves love. Love we failed to give her.”

“I still don’t understand,” Lucifer remarked, still in my grasp. “Why her?”

“Did you miss the whole two speeches I gave explaining why? Or were you just not tall enough to hear me?”

“Alastor! Apologize,” Charlie scolded, looking at him in shame. 

“No. It’s true. Your father is quite short, Charlie.”

Charlie punches him in the shoulder , earning a wince of pain from him. “Apologies, your Majesty,”he says. 

“Apology declined.” Lucifer laughs at the Radio Demon as he begins to glare at him.

“Well, I guess we should clean up this mess. Dad, Alastor? Do you mind working together to get this done?” She smiled sweetly at the two, and they couldn’t say no. As they clean, we talk. 

“Charlie.”

“Yes, Mom?”

“ Do you love this man?”

“I don't know, but yes. I do.”

“Very well. As long as you love him, I’m happy. Your father, on the other hand, may not be.”

“He’ll get over it. Hopefully.”

“How did it happen?”

“He started helping me a couple days ago as I was having a hard time due to insomnia. But I didn’t know I did all that for him. I’ll have to ask him later.”

“Well if you did this for someone, hopefully you will forgive us. He looks at us with such disdain.”

“Well, he doesn’t like you two. He knows what you leaving and Dad shutting himself out did to me. Which is probably why he treats Lucifer the way he does.”

“Who do you think would win in a fight?”

“Obviously Dad. Alastor is strong, but not that strong.” I chuckle at her answer as she looks me dead in the eyes. “Mom. I need to know. Why did you leave?” I looked back at her, hurt in her eyes, as in mine. 

“I made a deal. I was sentenced to Heaven for seven years in order not to cause any backfire in the exterminations. I wasn’t allowed to leave nor roam Heaven. I wasn’t able to get any of your calls either, little one. I’m so sorry.” I was in tears, kneeling before my crying daughter. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, Charlie. But I am truly sorry.” 

“ I do forgive you, Mom. I do. Thank you for telling me the truth.” We hugged, crying into each other as Luci and Alastor stared at each other and us. They walk over and join the embrace, Charlie and I still crying. Once we cease, we prepare to leave. “We’ll do the tour on a different day, Char-Char. Okay?”

“Of course, Dad. Farewell!” 

“Goodbye, my beautiful daughter,” I say, embracing her once more. 

“Goodbye, Mom. See you later?”“Of course.” We exit the hotel and enter the limo to return home.

“That went well, didn’t it?”

[radishaur]

Ok, I need to talk about Teruhashi from The Disastrous Life of Saiki K real quick but not in the way you think. I think Teruhashi is a well written character in and of herself, however I think what’s even more interesting is the perspective her character brings to the “can you be a good person if your motives are wrong” argument. I see this argument/back and forth a lot and it’s the idea that if you do good things for an ulterior motive, then are you actually a good person? Your actions still brought about positive effects so at the end of the day, do you still end up being a good person even though your motives are skewed?

I think this very contrast between motives and actions is what makes Teruhashi such a particularly interesting character; it’s the very joke her character is built on. Thanks to Saiki’s abilities, we hear Teruhashi’s inner thoughts, so we as the viewers know that she acts the way she does because she makes herself and not because it’s natural. The writers make it clear that she behaves the way she does not because it was her natural reaction but because she gains something from acting that way. She directly benefits from creating this “perfect” image of herself, not only in the form of those around her being so devoted to her but also in the sense that acting this way allows her to validate her own self-image of herself as the perfect girl. In fact, in many cases the way she acts directly parallels what she was thinking in her head. A great visual of this juxtaposition in her character is in Season 2 Episode 8, where Aiura Mikoto sees her aura. She describes it as being a giant set of angel wings, but with black feathers mixed in, which is an inside joke to the viewers, making fun of the fact that on the outside her actions are pure and good-natured, but her inner voice is actually much darker. 

I think this contrast is also one of the reasons the fandom’s opinions on her differ so wildly. I think subconsciously a lot of people would say that your motives do matter on if you’re a good person or not, and since Saiki gives us a way to see that her motives in most scenarios are not “pure”, they dislike her character because to them she isn’t a good person. I think it also brings about an interesting discussion about how we would view her character if Saiki wasn’t able to give the viewers that inside look into her thoughts. Obviously the show would be completely different if this was the case, but I think it’s interesting to think about nonetheless.

Anyways, I have many more thoughts on this that I can’t put into words right now, but thanks for reading if you got this far. I’ve been obsessed with this show again recently and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t usually write in-depth analysis of fandom media so I hope this made at least somewhat sense. Now I’m going to retreat back to the fanfiction corner of the fandom, so expect fanfiction soon. Ok bye!