#live and let live yall can ship whatever you want but i can also hate whatever i want on my silly little girl blog

[quillkiller]

if i see one more tiktok about ******** again im going to start killing people probably

[dsaf-confessions]

yeah, im sorry this is so long. its not meant against you, mod, respect ya for all that you have to put up with here... yeah.

i think a lot of the people coming on here to complain about other peoples opinions need to take a deep breath. you don't have to agree with them. but bashing people in the tags, anonymously sending in that someone's opinion on a fucking rpg maker game that, at its core, is a massive shitpost.

suicide jokes, especially when you dont know the person saying it at all, are not funny. if it isnt a joke and youre really about to kill yourself over a fun little tumblr blog, get help. seriously. i hope you get better and feel okay one day.

somebody who probably lives 12 to 24 hours away from you, by plane, saying they self-ship or ship an oc with a character you find irredeemable is not the end of the fucking world. sure, you may see it as weird, but at the end of the day a surprising amount of this fandom is around about 13, and thats what 13 year olds do. no shade to yall. those of you that i know are great.

i myself am a minor, i only got into the games, and months later, the fandom around my 15th birthday. its easier than some of you want to admit to stay away from the parts of the fandom that arent child appropriate. i dont mean the drugs. drugs arent anyone-appropriate. theyre fucking illegal. shoving an eggplant up someones urethra is also totally outlandish and sounds like it was written by a 5th grader

lets all respect each other for a bit. nobody fucking deserved to get the colossal amounts of anon hate that ive seen soley because of a harmless opinion.

to the adults here who churn out high-quality comics and fics and ask blogs, that i so joyously read, hell yeah! keep doing that, do what you want with it.

to the children, and by that i mean minors okay we are in fact legally considered children, you keep it up too. keep up your ask blogs and fics and fanart and shit that is sometimes so high-quality i assume youre fucking 30 until i check your bio.

yall, collectively, need to learn that at the end of the day people are gonna do what they want with these characters. it doesnt matter if someone draws henry miller in fucking cat ears because hes a fictional guy. have you seen what they do to steve raglan out there, man? its a fucking warzone but instead of explosives everyones firing out furry edits! it doesnt matter if someone ships something you dont like. im not a proshipper, theres lines i personally refuse to cross, but can i do anything about the people who do? no. ive come to terms with that.

ship your weird rarepair who never met in canon. draw your genderswap fanart. make your au askblog. write that fic you think wont be good enough. someone, somewhere, probably loves what youre creating.

the anons here saying shit like "oh im gonna kms over this" and "thats a fucking weird character to like", yall are the same. im sure you arent all vanilla ice-cream on a summers day level basic. youve got your unusual headcanons too.

we really have to let the minors in this fandom be. they arent going anywhere, myself included, because they dont want to. you cant force people out. so be fucking nice instead of making someone feel ashamed because they make jake a she/they or whatever.

holy fuckin shit that is. long. i am so sorry mod. if its too long you dont have to post it lmao

.

[starrclown]

Hi!

Okay, so I remember you ask about LMK rare pair on IG. And to be honest I have no idea. Until now. What you think about Not Mayor and Wukong? IcePeach? BrokenDolls? Or whatever their ship name is.

My idea for them is Mayor try find new a purpose in life after LBD gone. At first he try to reach Bai He because he can't cope nicely and Bai He kinda look like LBD. But there is one problem and that is Wukong. *Cough* FrozenStar Duo*Cough*. So he decide to keep on eye on Wukong instade because he have nothing else to do and since Wukong always be seen with Bai He for past few week after LBD gone. He hates Wukong at first because you know Wukong is kinda the want who make him know that LBD doesn't need him. He hated that feeling. But he also feel something when fighting with Wukong. It's the warm because Wukong always warm. He can't stop thinking about that warm.

He sees Wukong as a leader, a protector, a hero but most importantly a KING. Someone who deserve to be serve. He kinda became bit obsess with Wukong after keep watching the king and staff. He decide to do something.

Even after everything he still a Mayor for some reason. So after the city fully fix in a month and half (thank you technology. They live in futuristic time so you know). He organized so call "Celebration Party" to celebrated a win against LBD. The party was open to public and invited the the Monkie Gang as special guess and also Monkey King. So like it or not they kinda have to go since the whole city expect them to there.

Save to say that Mayor plan kinda work. Wukong is there so that's perfect. He bait Wukong to the middle of party where a lot of people can see them. He ask Wukong to dance with him and Wukong couldn't say not since all eyes on them and Wukong stage fright kick in.

They dance. And Mayor could feel the warm again. Normaly he would always feel cold since that what LBD do. The cold is nice and love it for a long time even he wasn't needed he still love it because that all he ever know. But this WARM. This warm is so addicted. The more he feel the more he want. It was powerful. He wants more

"May I serve you, My King" he said kissing Wukong hand.

(dude, Stalker Tango was playing on background while they dance. It's the vibe I get for this whole thing)

4 things.

1. Hiiiii!!

2. I clicked on this and it shot to the bottom of the text and all I saw was Stalkers Tango. (I used to EAT up that song. It was all over my YouTube page like 2 years ago.)

3. Yall I saw this ship on Tiktok like 2 days ago. It was a sideshow with those two and with the audio "Do you think you'd kill for me on day? Yes, of course I will my darling." I don't know if they have like a confirmed ahipname cause like, that's a RARE rarepair right their. I call them Star-shapedIce. I thought of it cause you know those ice molds you can make diffrent shapes with? Like those!

4. There are so many parts about this I like.

Mayor just like, having nothing to do after LBD. Like it makes perfect sense cause he has spent litteraly years serving her. The idea he's just like: "Well this kid looks like her, might as well." *Spots Wukong* "Fuck not that guy."

Bro your feeling warm cause SUN WUKONG my guy 😭. I know this is saying he's getting warm cause he's catching feelings but I like the idea that he says Wukong makes him feel warm and Bai He in thr back is like, "Yeah! No duh! Your fighting SUN Wukong! Dude your on a tropical mountain with monkeys and fruit trees! You dumbas-"

This raises a good question, does Mayor still have like political power?? Like can he make decisions for the city. Do the people of the city know that their mayor was LBD's right hand man? Bro that would suck if your Wukong. This Mayor, someone you know helped LBD take over the world, is just inviting you to dance and shit and you can't say no cause you can't let the people of the city you protect down. Ya think he gets pissed after the 4th party invitation?

Say Wukong agreed to let Mayor serve him. Since we both agreed that Bai He would be with him (cause that duo is great) dude she would NOT be chill (ha ha) about him being there. Angst material right there.

Normalize this ship that no way would be healthy in the beginning. The toxic spice ✨

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

[golbrocklovely]

It gets so annoying how the fans react to seeing Colby with ANY girl. I know I’m one of the few old heads in the fandom, but god damn it’s annoying. I remember being young and having a celebrity crush but I never went this far. Like I understand shipping, but I don’t think it should never go as far as sending random females hate just because they are within 5 feet of Colby.

He’s a big boy, let him do whatever he wants lol

at this point for me, it's not even the hating that annoys me. it does, don't get me wrong, but at this point i expect to hear and see "i just don't like her, she's giving me a weird vibe" or some variation of that. or worse. but what actually annoys me is the weird obsession this fandom gets with the girl once she is known of.

bc it's one thing to lurk or be curious, that's fine. makes sense. but it's another thing entirely to, within a couple days time, act like you are best friends and the biggest fan of this girl. these fans will follow her, comment on her pics, go into her lives and watch them, watch or stream her content, learn everything they can about her, dm her constantly, when not even two fucking days ago yall didn't know who she was. and what's funny is they do all of this, and then colby stops talking to the girl bc it's not a serious relationship. and then this fandom acts like the girl never existed in the first place.

it's a very weird phenomenon.

also, in particular about this situation, the reason why it upsets me a little bit more than usual is bc the fan that showed the pic off of colby and this girl……. sam was also there, on a date, WITH A GIRL. and from the whispers i've heard, it may or may not have been a well known girl too. but he got to keep his privacy. colby on the other hand doesn't get to have that. he doesn't deserve to have his love life be private. bc this fandom, et large, just sees him as a ken doll they can play around with and have him fuck all the bratz and barbies they so wish him to do that with.

i mean, this is a bigger issue that i don't have to get into, but like… the way this fandom jokes about colby being a slut, fucking anything that moves, all that shit, right? we all love to revel in him moving onto someone new or having a new boo thang. but the MOMENT that happens, all of sudden "omg colby is so gross, he will fuck anything that moves. he never has a serious relationship, he's a fuck boy. he uses women all the time." and it's just very confusing to me.

which is it? do you want him to be a slut and have fun, or do you want to shame him for doing that? it can't be both.

[himbos-hotline]

What do you think needs improvement in wwe and aew

OKAY so prefancing this by the fact I have not watch WWE in over a year and the only things I know about WWE now is what im getting from tumblr

both companies need to stop relying on the old stars/ old wrestlers needing either a money hit or a cash hit or like another grasp at talent. as much as I LOVE daddy ass and re-living my childhood in wrestling but like I get sooo tired of seeing people relive the glory days when they shouldnt *cough* ric flair *cough*. like theres sooo many talented younger wrestlers that arent getting shown on TV/ in the companies because older wrestlers get quick pops because of the nostalgia run. I see goldberg one more time I will actually explode.

Aew needs to book more womens matches and treat them at the same like bundle and preface as men! Like give us a womans blood and guts!! and more womens matches in genearal where its more of a rough and tumble vibe with blood. My favourite womens match is the thunder rosa brit baker cage match!! Also give me more nyla like I love nyla rose sooo much and shes so talented and cool and I wanna see her wrestle more

also things that feel like "small" tag teams, like the best friends, arent being like shown how talent they are. I know that sentence doesnt make sense. But re-watching aew during the pandemic era- where you had the trent vs kenny match it was so good and it really showwed just how cool and talented trent is in the ring and I think both him and chuck should be allowed to wrestle more and actually wrestle like do moves and win matches, theyre not just to push other talent or let newer tag teams win, its kinda depressing when taented wrestlers arent used in the way they deserve too

another thing and this is just for me, maybe this is just for me. Like long term storytelling suddenly either being shifted/stopped. Like do you remember when mox was facing [I think its either max or jericho] and someone like attacked him backstage and we NEVER EVER got told/figured out who attacked him and its kinda just been forgotten? ALSO as much as I love the elite and the hangkenny storyline and hangman rejoining the elite. He caused so much issues and trouble with everything and he hurt them, like matt said that bte episode "it hurt my heart" and theyve all like, just kinda accpeted him back. No like deep apology or "you have to prove yourself" or whatever. Its like they forgot the entire three year story they told. Also kenny finding out about the fucking nod- it could have been done so much deeper and sadder and emotional, the bucks have been there with kenny since his breakdown/breakup with kota and theyve always had his back until the one moment he needed them and they sided with hangman. But instead of all of that we got "k its cool" and I dont know if its gonna like come back up after all the kenny dealing with callis emotions is gone. Cuz thats gotta like fuck someone up mentally, suddenly loosing that abusive manipultive hold on you suddenly disappearing.

and FANS!! like, I love wrestling fans but also god I hate them so much. Guys, Guys I am begging y'all to stop showing wrestlers fanfics/ship-fanart and everything else. its not like made FOR them its made FOR other fans. I wouldnt want to be exposed to being shipped with my friends by people online. Like....ugh. ALSO like a small thing that pisses me off is fans thinking we can like, touch them in sexual ways. this is mostly cis-het men touching cis women wrestlers on their asses and tits. Like you wouldnt like if someone fondled your dick without asking. Concent is important and its not just for ike, fucking. its for every single thing in life. Yall can cuddle the wrestlers if they say you can but god if youre making people uncomfortable and gross its fucking bullshit and youre a sucky human being.

[miraculousmaladys]

TFP If You Ship...

Ultra Magnus

I would also like to warn yall, I do roast the shit outta these ships and you. Some of y'all are nasty and need to be told/reminded, and some of you need to stay far the fuck away from me. Aight? Aight lets begin.

MagOp/OpMag/Magnimus/ Ultra Magnus x Optimus Prime: You pretentious bitch. You absolute fucking- I have no fucking words to describe how beige you are. You 're personality is plain oatmeal. Message me. I want to beat your ass. You prolly like them for the fact that they can relate to each other, and because of their importance to the war. But I hate you cause you also have more content. Fuck you. May your cereal turn soggy before you can eat that shit, may your drawing tablet get so hot in that one corner that you can fry bacon on that bitch. Fuck you.

MagMeg/Magatron(ew)/ Ultra Magnus x Megatron: you eat mayonnaise with a fucking spoon. Y'all saw that one scene with them on Darkmount and was just like "hm, but what if fuck?" and ran with it. You went to Ao3 expecting kinky shit, but all you got was stuff for IDW Megs and Mags and honestly baby, its gon' be okay.

Matchet/Ragus?/ Ultra Magnus x Ratchet: Yes we get it, the old man can dom now shut the fuck up. If taking your S/O to the nursing home as a date was a ship it'd be these old crotchety ass bitches. But, but, on a more serious note this ship can be so therapeutic for both mechs. These two were there way before the start of the war, they lived through it, and they knew Optimus all throughout. I imagine Ratchet would tell Magnus about Orion before his ascension to the primacy. I ain't ever been more depressed scrolling through a tag though, y'all broke bitches need whatever the fuck UltraScreen is having.

Magbee/Ultra Bumble/Ultra Magnus x Bee: I ain't ever seen two same heighted Cybertronians in a relationship, always one of'em gotta be spike suckin' height.

UltraJack/ Ultra Magnus x Wheeljack: Listen, listen, both these mechs love their solitary time and it can create so much angst, SO MUCH. Magnus feeling he must uphold his duties and Wheeljack having a mindset similar to a pirate. His spark belongs to the stars AND Magnus, but the stars will always come first. But bitch this is Ultra Magnus. We horny. We know Wheeljack is a fucking brat, and Ultra Magnus is his Dom.... baby we nasty. We nasty and there is no fucking denying that shit my GOD.

Ultrabulk/ Ultra Magnus x Bulkhead: Listen man as crazy as this might sound, I think this could work. Just like any other ship with Bulkhead you are fucking STRUGGLING though dude, you got like 5 fics you keep coming back to. You cry at night, knowing, and praying, that the gods will smile upon you and bless you with an update. You know you struggling when you only got three fics that have this ship as the focus. If y'all ban together I'm sure you can scrounge together like three pieces of fanart and a lint roller between the four of you.

UltraScream/ Ultra Magnus x Starscream: I don't see how anyone could hate this ship. Like, they literally work as really good foils to each other. You've got Magnus who is loyal as fuck, very militaristic??? And very much involved with the safety of his team. He's described as recklessly brave. Starscream on the other hand has a lot of character to work on and Magnus could help him along with that, and he can teach Magnus self preser- fucking-vation because Mr. "gets fucking chomped by a predacon for another bitchass Autobot" needs it. You're fuckass wants someone to save you, or you want to go absolutely apeshit. You are the mom friend everyone is worried about.

Ultracee/ Ultra Magnus x Arcee: Huh?? I mean like....Okaaaayy?? I mean good for you. This ship makes me feel the way that you feel when someone offers you candy you don't like, but you wouldn't mind eating it so you do. To be honest the people who ship this definitely see diamonds in places others wouldn't expect, but like you're so fucking unnessecary oh my god. Like you prolly add weird ass comments to other peoples statements, ain't nobody out here asking for an echo. Sit down.

UltraShock: ya like'em thicc don't you commanding officer Ultra Magnus? Anyway maybe y'all could team up with UltraBulk shippers and add a pile of used soda cans to the pile. Y'all are ghosts, do you even exist on this plane. My guesstimate on how many people actually ship this forreal is like 5.

Ultrawave/MagnusSound/Magnus x Soundwave: Listen if the Ultrabulk shippers are starving y'all ain't even corporeal. I show up to this ship with a fucking ghost talk box and some heat sensors, and like one boombox tryna see if GHOSTS even inhabit this bitch. Y'all aight? Are y'all good?? HELLO IN THERE (hello in there) (hello in there). Yall really go all out for the goth shit. Prolly hidin' in the shadows of my house waiting to strike.

Ultrascreen:

You, and I mean this in the most (derogatory) way possible, are a fucking

HOE

Literally looked on AO3 saw nearly NOTHING BUT kinky MF PORN. The oooonly plot y'all got is exactly how long Ultra Magnus can deny Smokescreen an overload. Why every time it comes to Magnus people make this by the books vanilla bitch the kinkiest one. YES I love subverting expectations but can I PLEASE get one fic where he sputters because his partner says a bad word. These two are the main ones who get this treatment, and baby I ain't complaining, but please. Please just- please sir I-I a-ah!

Ultradown: The UltraBulk, and UltraWave shippers come here every year, at the exact same location, at the exact same time, all for this ritual. The UltraWave shippers take out a boombox, some energon candies, and a supersized Cybertronian false spike. The UltraBulkers begin to sing the incantation to summon their fallen comrade: https://youtu.be/m9We2XsVZfc. They must do this once every year, they must battle the UltraDown shippers, though most would say they are a myth, the UltraShock and UltraWave shippers know better.

MagnusOut/KnockMagnusOut?/Ultra Knockout: Listen its not as horny as Smokescreen but the constant tension is definitely there. Knockout is just as horny as the depressed, RE-pressed ass Magnus fans and can you really blame him? Boyfriend? Dead. Magnus? kinky. Hotel? California.

/If I missed any let my gay ass know. Sorry if this ones lackluster, but some of these ships don't even really seem to have a fanbase?? Remember that these are TFP ships y'all.

Also I better see more Bulkhead content after this. Do you all have a problem with truly thicc bootyful babes or what?

[nightswithkookmin]

NO CAPTION

I love how this conversation is bringing out the homophobia in y'all's eyes😌

'Yall are scared Jimin will stop looking like a submissive gay man if he builds muscles'

So y'all think Jimin looks like a submissive gay man without his muscles????????

Huh????

Isn't this the very thing I'm ranting over in these posts? That people think he looks gay and a sub/bottom and that he doesn't look like a real man because of the way he looks??

Isn't that why they are fixing him to look more masculine in these ads????

Y'all think him building muscles will change his sexual orientation if he is in deed gay and a sub???

There is nothing wrong with being gay or sub or bottom or whatever any gay queer person might be into. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! Omg!

Muscle building is not for men only.

This is Namjoon's cousin. What about her makes her less feminine??????????????

Should she get longer nails? Bigger hoops? May be a Brazilian butt lift? Botox? Fillers? In order to look more traditionally feminine?

If she decides to stop working out or drink stuff to lose muscles so she can be seen as more feminine do y'all not think that would be ??? because she is feminine regardless?

What about these women make them less feminine????? They build up too and they are women.

Jimin with or without muscles is still an androgynous man. Building muscles does not erase his androgynousity. That is Jimin.

He is an androgynous MAN not woman. Looking skinny is not what makes him androgynous. Putting on make up and wearing feminine clothes is not what makes him androgynous.

We've been calling him androgynous from day one when he debuted and it's not because he didn't have muscles. He had them in abundance. so I find it weird that you will think we gay people are worried he is leaning into his masculinity- when the question we are asking is WHAT AT ALL IS MASCULINITY?

Didn't he ask the same questions when he asked his band mates, man man man- what the heck is man- when they said men shouldn't wear rings on their pinkie?

That was an iconic moment and I wish I could write a dissertation on it. Super iconic.

Is he a sex icon? Absolutely. Is he a queer icon? Yes. But he is not a gay God. No body is looking up to him to liberate them from no damn queer oppression- love how you trivialize and make fun of LGBTQ issues.

Really sista? You had to go there? And you say you are a Jikook supporter?? Interesting.

I think Tae put it best when he said Jimin may look cute and pretty on the outside but when he takes off his clothes that's when you see he's more masculine. I think for some of us, we've always seen Jimin as very masculine in his expressions and very experimental in his expressions of femininity. I've always seen him as grounded in his masculinity than feminity- although he does suffer from toxic masculinity every now.

I'm simply saying this may be one of those times. Emphasis on may be. I'm over it. Just took note of it.

When it comes to exercising, the members have said he used to be the one who trained the hardest in dance rehearsals. Didn't RM say he and Jin used to look up to him and learn from him because he is well disciplined?

He's always exercised. Y'all think him flipping through the air and defying gravity comes from a lack of exercise?????

This is the few times he's talked about exercising as a social male bonding activity with his members and even encouraged Hobi to join them. If you think he will look more masculine climbing rocks and building muscles then you are part of the problem I am trying to address here.

Do y'all not watch Bon Voyage and Run and Winter package? Do y'all not see him "be manly" and "lean into his masculinity" in those contents? Did he not say he wanted to go do yoga with the others but chose instead to go to the brewery with Yoonkook?

Out of curiosity, let me ask- which is the two options was the least masculine activity? I'm genuinely curious.

And no, I am not uncomfortable seeing him lean into his masculinity. I am uncomfortable watching him straddle the line of toxic masculinity and it's not limited to him. I think I have expressed similar sentiments with regards to JK and RM and Suga and the rest.

And no. It's not toxic that he is exercising or wants to exercise. I question that he wants to build muscles and look a certain way as a man especially if that way is the only way he and y'all think a man should look like.

I don't know about you but this looks pretty masculine and feminine to me.

As does this. He can look like the incredible hulk and I'll still see him as androgynous.

Now don't get me started on his upper lips and BigHit constantly concealing his upper lips with make up. Don't get me started on that! 😡

They are always erasing and tweaking something when it comes to Jimin! Always! I HATE IT HERE.

Jimin is not the first androgynous man in Kpop nor is he the only androgynous man in kpop. He doesn't have to be gay or queer to participate in social discourse.

And I understand that queer and gender issues may not be of importance to y'all cis straight folks but it is important nonetheless and BTS have dabbled in the discussions and voiced out their opinions on it. They are advocates for the youth and that includes gay queer folks.

How many times have they talked about same love? That their BT21 characters are genderless, that clothing shouldn't be restricted to specific genders? Jk have said he hates oppression and Jimin talks about self love and acceptance for all- you think gay people are not included?

They don't have to be gay to be gay representatives and "Gay Gods." Heard of Allies?

And when you say BTS are human not representatives- you kidding right???

Have you seen BTS issue statements on Black lives matter, on Racism and Asian hate crimes etc?

Yes, they human beings.... who care about other human beings and their oppressions. Y'all praise these men for wearing unisex brands and genderless fashion and praise them for when they voice out on certain issues... except when it comes to gay issues? I see y'all's colors.

Also you ship Jikook but it pisses you off that we say Jimin is gay??? 👀

Jimin gay. Jungkook gay. Jikook gay. Does this annoy you? 👀

They are fucking eachother. Do you wanna block me? 👀

JK fucks Jimin. Jimin fucks JK. Are you dead yet? 👀 Do you wanna kill me? 👀

I don't see them as straight honestly. If I did and I thought they were facing straight issues I'd be talking about those too. I see them as gay dealing with gay issues that we all deal with and I talk about that.

Credit to the artist. I think that photo of Jimin from On MV is one of my favorites.

I might have to frame it and hang it on my wall.

Don't have any hard feelings against you but I thought I would address certain problematic statements you made.

Love,

GOLDY

[istansamwilsonbish]

I kinda Hate how Bucky/Stucky Stans Gun at Steve for Endgame. So....Imma give my unasked for opinion cause I felt like it. So lets look at all the things they say and Imma just break it down or whatever.

This is just my opinion and my thoughts by the way. If you wanna be mad at Rogers, go ahead.

"Why didn't Steve take Bucky with him?"

Because that would be stupid. I'm just gonna lay it out there that it would be fucking stupid.

For one PSTD wasn't a something used as a diagnosis until the 80s(According to my googling.) Also Mental illness and issues weren't handled very well in the 30s and 40s. Certainly not as well as in modern day. As we have seen in FATWS, Bucky can be extremely hostile, He has a lot of guilt, he is antisocial, and he still has nightmares from his time as the Winter Soldier. As much as I hate Raynor, Bucky needed a Therapist.

I do not believe the mental health care in the 40s would be sufficient enough to help Bucky through all the things he has going on. Yeah he would have Steve. Thats a start but....Steve is not Bucky's care taker.

Even if Steve didn't get with Peggy, Steve would have found someone else and moved on. And No I don't believe Steve would have been okay with just being with Bucky his whole life. Ship what you want. But going off canon alone, there is nothing that tells me personally that Steve would have gone after a romantic relationship with Bucky. Certainly not in a time period where it wasn't okay to be Gay. That being said, At one point Steve is going to be too focused on himself and can't hold Bucky's hand.

To Me, Bucky going back is just leaving Bucky with bad mental health in a different time period. Where he can't get the help needed.

"Steve is a bad friend because he Left Bucky"

No. Bucky is a grown ass man. Steve isn't his care taker.

It is very important to be there for our friends but it more important to be there for ourselves. Steve has fought alongside Bucky, He fought for Bucky, He saved Bucky twice, he got Bucky fully Pardoned. Those are things great friends do. Would it have been nice if Steve stayed and helped Bucky even more? Yeah. But that's not what Steve wanted. Why should Steve continue in a path he doesn't want? Yes Bucky is has friend but Steve's wants and personal feelings need to come first. Steve isn't living his life for Bucky.

And I'm sure Bucky wouldn't have wanted him too.

I refuse to believe that Bucky would have wanted his best friend to be unhappy. Bucky loves Steve like a brother. He has protected Steve and Steve has protected him. If Bucky knew that Steve wanted to be with Peggy, Bucky was gonna tell him to shut up and go. Would it hurt Bucky in the moment? Yes of course. But I honestly believe that it would hurt him even more if he found out Steve gave up what he wanted just for Bucky.

"Peggy didn't need Steve/Peggy Moved. She didn't love Steve."

Your point is? My husband doesn't need me. My husband wants me around. He wants to have a life with me.

Love and relationships aren't about needing someone in my eyes. It about openly wanting and caring for another person. When you feel like you need someone in your life....it can get really toxic real fast.

Secondly Bucky didn't need Steve. As we see in FATWS, Bucky managed just fine without him. Of course this was with the help of Sam. Bucky needed a friend. And that didn't have to be Steve. I will admit that maybe Steve would have helped it move smoother. But who knows.

Also Peggy thought the mans was dead. The fuck? Of course she was going to move on. The hell did yall expect her to do?

"Steve messed up Peggy's life. She was already married."

Okay I'll give you that. That's fair. But again I think we will agree to disagree.

Personally I think that Steve was Peggy's Husband the whole time. This was something that was reconned in and Imma explain that a little more later.

But Think about this. If Steve went back in time and stayed with Peggy. He had to have changed something and made a new timeline. Which we know from Loki is a Big No-No and it will land in the TVA. And as we know from Loki, The whole time Heist was a situation that was supposed to happen. If Steve going back to Peggy wasn't supposed to happen, he would have been nabbed by TVA agents way before he could come back and give the Sam the Shield.

In both Loki and FATWS we have no evidence to believe that Steve was taken in it any point of time. And yes Steve is missing from FATWS but it really doesn't make sense that they would have grabbed old Steve and not reset the timeline.

So I think that the husband Peggy had was Steve. He probably changed his name due to the fact everyone thought he was dead. He wasn't at the funeral because he knew his younger self would have been there.

"Why didn't Steve save Bucky earlier?"

In Loki, we learned about the timekeepers and timelines. If you fuck up the timeline you end up in the TVA. According to the Timekeepers, everything that's happened to Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Tony and all his other friends were supposed to happen. So if Steve were to change it, he would have most likely messed up the Timeline. Which gets him sent to the TVA.

Of course Steve didn't know that. But Chris Evans appears to be done with playing Cap so there would be no point to Marvel doing that. Its would just create a weird plot hole. That they can't fix in a natural way.

Final Thoughts?

Marvel did give me Sam Wilson as the new Cap. And I am so grateful. But they fumbled with Steve Rogers. Even I can admit that.

Remember when it mentioned that Steve being Peggy's husband/Steve going back to her was probably added last moment? Yeah because of how its written. Its not that its made no sense, its that yall explained it weird in the movie and after. So for one Endgame was Followed by FATWS, Steve is MIA the whole time. Then you have Loki, where the Timelines and TVA were put into the mix. Which could have cleared Steve a bit. Just drop a little throw away line or something more than the Time Heist. Because I don't think these situations were that closely linked. Yes Cap was putting the Stones back but he went rouge so.....

Secondly it can be assumed that Steve talked to Bucky about this before hand. But the exact opposite can be assumed too. Which is why people get even more made at him.

This scene could have really been more about how Steve finally just picked himself and his friends supported him. But it comes off as more selfish and self centered when you looked at it from different angles.

Meh.

[zoufantastical]

Can I ask you something? What’s so bad about shipping the veterans with the scouts? You also said about how adults need to have responsibilities because they are shipping “teenagers” with adults because there can be children here but isn’t that the responsibility of the parents? Like I’m trying to see what your point is because at the end of the day it IS fiction. People shouldn’t be called out for shipping what they want. It doesn’t hurt anyone in real life. And you tagged those ships so I know you aren’t doing this for the children of this site but because you want to get attention. I’ll like to see how you explain that.

Oh boy an account that very obviously looks new. It’s starting y’all. Let’s see here. The question should be WHY you want to ship them with each other.

(Kinda long post incoming!!)

Is it the aesthetic? Is it because it looks “hawt”? It can’t possibly all be because of the moments they had in the manga/anime.

You specified that and called them veterans. So using that word you are already aware that there is not only a noticeable age difference/gap but experience/power.

Let’s also take a look at the timeline.

The four year time skip started around March 2017. The rest of the scouts don't make their debut around chapter 102, which was around February 2018. Which means every veteran x scout shipper waited NINE YEARS to FINALLY have some sort of excuse to ship them, even though their new age of 19 from over mid 30+ is still such a large age gap.

Before that, people were WILLINGLY SHIPPING 15/16 YEAR OLDS WITH ADULTS. ADULTS OVER 30+ and even if they were younger, like 20-30, THAT IS STILL A LARGE AGE GAP. I am an adult over 21 and I'll be DAMNED if I ever get close and romantic with a teen. Do you have any idea of the explicit artwork and fics there are around depicting exactly that type of relationship that will not only have you shunned by society but probably have you in a jail cell as well? Not only that but there are fics/artwork that ages them up. Gee, I wonder WHY you have to do that?

The fiction excuse has been dragged through the mud so many times. While it being fictional doesn't automatically makes you a pedo/groomer/incestuous person, it does makes you morally questionable. Why does something have to be fictional for you to willingly want to persue such ship? It's the fiction part that makes me call people out. Because lets face it: the fictional world and the real world is a blurred line.

If you really think about it, fictional media does have an impact on our every day lives. The way we consume it and go about it. The way it can affect our lives and even the views of society. So when people throw at me "iTs fIcTiOn" I know they have nothing else to say. If you need something to not be (barely) real to want to be a fan of something morally and legally wrong in the real world, then people around you have every right to question you.

Pursuing something specific like what I'm talking about in fiction can speak volumes of you as a person and your values. So saying it doesnt "hurt anyone in real life" is a lie. Fiction has a great grasp over our lives. It has also been responsible and consequential to certain conducts in society. Fiction CAN hurt lives in reality.

Some of you may think I'm exaggerating but this is real, no pun intended.

In regards to kids, many of the people who ship ereri or rivamika etc are impressionable. Yes parents should monitor them but do you expect them to on every move? Especially if YOU as an ADULT contribute to the same media parents try to teach them it's wrong and avoid? I mean yikes when did we become so ignorant and not care about others because your twisted desires are involved..that's such a sad thought. Tumblr obviously is a melting pot of other shit but taking kids out of the equation what about impressionable recent adults, especially the ones who believe they already know everything?

As I earlier said, the way we consume media does affect us.

Drifting from fiction, have you ever thought about the author himself? As in ISAYAMA? If you ship any of the 104th with a veteran, do you believe if this was acceptable in any way, Isayama would have found a way to include it in his story? That's right actually he HAS!

Have you forgotten when (trigger warning: sexual assault) Armin dressed as Historia was sexually assaulted by a man around the veterans age? Oh, so that time it was wrong but because the veterans are good looking it doesn't count if they ever tried to reach the 104th romantically/sexually? Oh you forgotten how the fandom was disgusted at this scene? So you already know Isayama will NEVER approve something like this since he already put a similar situation in a negative light.

This is a long post but yeah that's the most "shorten" in depth of why I can give you all. Between these questions and the gabi hate posts, I'm beginning to wonder if its a good idea having this open question posts thing 😂

Thanks for reading if any of yall did. Yes I am messy I will tag the posts. Block me or whatever I don't care. If it reaches even one person to consider on what they are doing, then so be it. So yeah I'm doing it for attention...isn't that literally the reason any of us posts here? 😂😂😂

[golbrocklovely]

hey yall.

so, i'm just gonna make a general, overall post about a bunch of the asks i've gotten that pertain to the core four instead of posting every single one. a lot of them mention the same things, and i just don't want to have to repeat myself over and over again.

first things first, i never said that disliking stas or kat (or any girl that snc are friends with for that matter) makes you misogynistic or jealous. the anon didn't say that either. we both said it is POSSIBLE that SOME of the ppl that don't like the girls are that way. maybe without even knowing it.

if you believe you have a legitimate reason for disliking them, that's great.

second, as a different anon pointed out, a lot of the content that stas and kat make gets poured over into the snc fandom (along with other fandoms) even if it has nothing to do with them. not to mention, but fans constantly ship stas and colby together. and i get it. it's super frustrating to see content from other ppl show up in snc's tags or whatnot, along with the shipping nonsense. that shit annoys me just as much as it annoys yall.

your gripe, however, is not with the girls. it's with the fans. and if you were complaining about the fans in your ask, then cool. props to you.

third, i'm gonna be honest, i genuinely think some of you won't be happy unless kat and stas are no longer in the picture. maybe you don't feel that way, and in that case this doesn't apply to you. but i do believe that some of you guys just can't accept the fact that sam and colby are friends with kat and stas, and bc they are friends, they are going to continue to make content with them. that means both on youtube and off.

which is why i said you just have to learn to tolerate them. you can hate them down to your very core if that's what pleases you, but you have to learn to accept that they are in snc's lives and that's not gonna change, no matter how much it upsets you. it's the same shit i have to do when it comes to brennen and colby's friendship.

but if you don't want to tolerate them, then i guess you're going to continue to be upset constantly for the foreseeable future. and if you're okay with that, by all means, keep doing you.

fourth, if you feel like stas and kat are using snc for clout just bc they post about them or like edits, i have to raise the question of did you feel that way about all of their friends? bc every single one of their friends have done something like that before (aka has used them in a way to gain followers). maybe not to the same extent, sure. you can make that argument. my thing is, those girls are going to gain followers regardless of if they post about snc or not. they are connected to snc, and anyone that is benefits. so then i have to ask another question which is do you just want stas and kat to never post/talk about snc outside of them hanging out in irl? but even then, some of you don't want them to post about them at all to the fans.

…i just genuinely want to know what scenario would make you the happiest. is it that they can all be friends, but they can't post about one another? or is it just stas and kat that have to follow that rule? bc if you're asking for four best friends to not post about one another, or to basically ignore each other's existence online, i just find that a bit silly to ask for.

i want to reiterate or at least state that in no way am i saying, at any given point in this post, that you can't dislike stas and kat. you can hate them for whatever reason. i also want to say that i don't think you're less than or are a terrible person for not liking them. i genuinely don't care if you like them or not. i don't look at you any different.

unless you say like really mean shit about them, like name-call or bully them. but literally 99% of you aren't like that so it's fine.

i say all of this bc i really wish you guys would just learn to not let it upset you as much. you don't deserve to get upset about things that aren't important. and i'm not saying this to patronize. i do legitimately mean it. things like stas and kat hanging out about snc don't matter. fandom culture shouldn't upset you so deeply. all of this should be fun for you. that's also why i said in other asks that maybe leaving is the best bet for some of you.

if you don't want to leave, then don't. stick around and try to have fun. and that might mean blocking stas and kat and limiting the amount of content you see from snc some days. on those days, maybe go back and watch older content. maybe find some friends in the fandom that feel the same way. this type of stuff shouldn't stress you out. this should be your escape from stress.

okay. i think that's everything. i hope you all have a goodnight/day wherever you are.

take it easy.✌️

[obwjam]

Stargazing (giant!poe x tiny!reader fluff)

it’s bad batch week yall!!!!! my god i am so excited for tomorrow. in honor of getting all new, good star wars content in the year of the lord 2021, i’m going to be posting new writing every day this week! starting with this little bit of giant!poe bf x tiny!reader fluff i whipped up this afternoon. it’s been too long since we’ve talked about this man so let’s go

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

“What do you see, Poe?”

Poe turned his head. He could barely see your small form in the dark, but the glow of the moonlight prevented you from being invisible. It was only your second date, but the first date was more like a mission-turned-romantic-evening when you and Poe had to spend hours drifting aimlessly through space when his ship got damaged in enemy territory. Who knew your first kiss would come with only an hour of life support left? That was weeks ago, though, and Leia decided you both deserved a night off. Not to mention that Poe wouldn’t stop making mushy comments to you every chance he got and everyone begged for them to get a room.

A quiet night of snacks and stargazing was definitely in order.

“Hm?” Poe was barely paying attention. For once, he was absorbed in the beauty of the moment. Totally silent.

“Every day. What do you see? What does it all look like?”

Poe then realized you were asking about… well, about people. Giants. Ugh. He really hated when you said that.

“Well… it just looks like the world,” he said. He didn’t know how else to describe it. How do you describe the world to someone? It was like trying to describe colors to someone who couldn’t see them.

“What does it all look like to you?”

Poe wasn’t sure if you’d respond to that, but he glanced over and saw you shrug.

“It just looks like the world,” you said softly, but somehow the gentle breeze carried your words up to Poe’s ears. He could detect a small smile in that voice.

Poe laughed to himself. He supposed you both had trouble trying to describe the world to each other. Maybe it was because you lived in the same world.

“You seem to be taller than normal,” you said. “Maybe everything looked smaller to you, I dunno.”

“Hah, well, maybe, but not that much. There are people far taller than me.”

You shuddered. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

Poe snickered. “Nothing looks small to me.” He turned to you, and you were, as he anticipated, looking back at him. “Nothing at all.”

You tried to smile, but found you couldn’t. “You don’t have to be nice. It’s okay.”

“It isn’t a question of nice or mean,” Poe said, confused, turning to his side and propping up on his elbow.

“Well… you don’t have to lie, I guess is what I mean. You don’t have to try and spare my feelings.” You sniffed. “I know what I look like to you.”

Poe shook his head. Where was this coming from? “No. No, you don’t. ‘Cause when I look at you, I don’t see tiny. I don’t see small. I just see you.”

You turned to Poe in surprise. “You… really mean that?”

Poe nodded as best he could. “Just ‘cause I can carry you around in my pocket doesn’t mean I don’t see you as a person, (Y/n). Just like you can see me for what I am without thinking giant.”

You paused for a bit too long.

“U-unless you do,” Poe stumbled. “In which case, uh, well, I guess--”

Your laugh cut him off. “I just see you, Poe.” She fiddled with her hands before continuing. “It took me a while, though. To get comfortable with… this. Whatever this is. After that night we had.”

“I can hardly imagine.”

You nodded. “Yeah. It’s, uh. Well. If I want you guys to stop looking at me as tiny, then I have to stop looking at you as gigantic, right? It goes both ways.”

Poe hummed. If he was in your situation, he didn’t know that he would ever reach that same conclusion.

“That’s real mature of you.”

You shrugged. “It’s necessary, really. If you actually want me around, I… I want to be comfortable with it. I’m sick of being scared all the time.”

“Well, it’s a natural reaction, isn’t it? There’s nothing wrong with feeling scared.”

“There’s something wrong if it’s the only thing you’ve ever felt in your life.” You stopped to take a breath, and Poe took the moment to cut in. 

“Do you like hanging around with us?”

You took longer to respond than Poe was expecting, which made his heart drop a bit.

“Yeah,” you said finally. “I do. I really do. The other day… Finn called us friends. It kind of shocked me, I guess. Made this feel real.”

“Did you think we were pretending to be your friends or something? Do you think I was pretending to like you? Because, I’m not pretending, everyone can attest to that,” Poe stammered, concerned.

“No,” you laughed, smiling at Poe so fiercely defending his feelings for you. “No, not at all. You wouldn’t have waited this long if you were trying to trick me. I don’t… really know what it felt like. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I’ve never been around giants like this, much less be integrated into the group. I just didn’t… well, I didn’t want to think of us as friends -- more than friends -- if you didn’t think the same way. To be honest, I… I didn’t actually think you’d see me as a real person. I just figured you’d, I dunno. See me as a very intelligent house pet.”

Poe knew how hard it was for you to say those words. He also knew how serious it was for you to admit this to him. This was the first time he was hearing about your internal struggle like this, and it was rocking him to his core.

“(Y/n),” he said, surprising himself with how shaky his voice was. “I don’t… I’ve never seen you that way. As a… as a pet,” he managed to say. “Y’know, this was all new for us, too. We were trying to figure out how to make you comfortable and how to deal with everything. I know it’s different for me, but I was just as unsure as you were. I didn’t want you running out on us or hating us without giving us a chance. Without…” Poe stopped.

“Without what?”

Poe sniffed a laugh. Nothing could get past you.

“I knew when I met you that I liked you, babe. Not just because you’re tiny, which makes you objectively adorable.” Poe paused, and he swore he could see you blushing. “But ‘cause you’re funny. You’re intelligent. You’re strong as hell. And I like spending time with you.”

“...I thought you did that because you had to,” you whispered.

“Well, maybe, at first. But it didn’t take long to realize that there was something special about you, and not for the obvious reasons.”

You fiddled with your fingers, trying hard not to burst into tears. “The obvious reasons?”

“You kidding? You are easily the most badass member of the resistance. Well, behind Leia, I guess. And me. And Rey is pretty cool too--”

“Okay, okay, yeesh, I get it,” you giggled. “Well, you’re pretty special too, Poe Dameron. Never in my life would I have guessed that someone like you… cool, handsome, talented--”

“Go on,” Poe smiled. You groaned.

“Self-absorbed,” you teased. “Even if we were the same height… well, I’d never think I’d have a chance.”

Suddenly, Poe stretched his hand out and gently wrapped his fingers around you, allowing you to somewhat take a seat as he lifted you up, flipped on his back and placed you on his chest. You gasped. This was certainly the most intimate you had ever gotten.

“This okay?” he asked quietly. You let out a small mhmm. “Good. I think we can see the stars better this way.” He paused for a moment. “And I can see you a lot better, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “You are so cheesy.”

“But that’s why you love me, right?”

You sniffed a laugh, and your smile shone through your voice. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

Poe sighed happily, gently placing his hand over you. This thing… whatever this thing was… he knew it was going to work.

[villainscomplex]

this, at least.

hey so anyway yall know how there was that big boom of angsty ship fics right

,,,,,i wanted to write one too and I have no other excuse

!!! MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH !!!

Also on: 

AO3

Wattpad

FFNet

Quotev

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

In his dreams, Asahi dies slowly.

His body is a mass of static and there is nothing but pain and pain and more pain. He’s vaguely aware of someone, somewhere, calling his name. Asahi, they’re saying, Asahi, please wake up.

And he does.

Asahi jerks awake violently, legs tangled in his blankets and hair plastered to the back of his neck, cold with sweat. He still feels like there’s — what? He doesn’t know the source of the pain, only that it is sheer pain, radiating through the core of his very being. It’d be easy to think it’s something simple, a bullet wound or head trauma, but the way it nestles into his chest and takes root there begs to differ.

In his dreams — nightmares, they prefer — Asahi is made of fear and desperation, of please, no, and the unnerving feeling that he’s forgetting something. There’s always someone with him, always whispering his name, fingers cold on his face.

It’s always the same scene.

He steps into a doorway and panic swells in his chest, but he’s never sure what triggers it. There’s nothing in the room but darkness, and then his feet come out from under him, and he is falling. The ground is far, and he falls forever and ever, until time stops short. He crashes into it in one graceless dive, shatters apart, and reforms at the seams with the sweet familiarity of agony.

He’s sure, with every fiber of his being, that something is missing. He doesn’t know what, or who, only that it is missing and the absence feels like a hole in his chest, a hollow place where the pain doesn’t reach.

Asahi leans forward in his bed, struggling to catch his breath. His hair falls like a curtain around his face. He can’t remember why he keeps it long, only that the idea of cutting it feels wrong, and so he lets it grow.

Suddenly, his bed feels unappealing and cold, and he staggers out of it into the quiet of his apartment.

If his life was a story, the narrator would say something like this — Azumane Asahi is a twenty-six year old man with severe amnesia and a wedding ring on a necklace, to which he doesn’t know the location of the missing pair. And that’s it, they’d say, just a detective with no memory and a lot of anxiety. He doesn’t think he’s important enough of a character to warrant any sort of life story.

His phone is where he left it when he’d arrived home the night prior, tossed onto his side table in a fit of weariness. The screen blinks dimly back at him, still miraculously alive, but only with about six percent to spare and at least three new messages to speak of. They’re all from one of the few people he actually texts, and even without looking at the contact name, Suga’s typing style is distinctive from Daichi or Shimizu’s.

He checks the time in the corner of his screen. It’s nearly five-thirty in the morning, which isn’t a bad time, but it’s still earlier than he normally gets up. Going back to sleep is about the most unappealing thing he can think of right now, so even if he isn’t a morning person, he plugs his phone up, clicks on the shabby TV, and goes to make a pot of coffee, listening to the steady drone of the early weather report.

The ring around his neck is a cold weight against his bare skin, small and heavy against the hollow where his throat meets his clavicle. It rolls and clinks softly against its chain as he moves, a quiet, ever-present reminder of a past he doesn’t remember.

It’s easy to make assumptions. He doesn’t know who has the pair to this ring, only that it feels too important to get rid of, so he keeps it around his neck. For all he knows, he was married once. Someone else had — maybe still has — the pair to this ring. He doesn’t remember being married or who his partner is, but he’s sure they must exist.

Maybe they’d left because he’d forgotten.

Asahi tucks the assumption away before his anxiety can take it and run. He’s got a life now and he can’t go ruining what he has by overthinking whatever he used to have. Lacking the vast majority of his memories hadn’t stopped him from rebuilding his life these past few months, bit by bit.

It’s only been a few months since the accident and even though he doesn’t remember it personally, that’s all everyone keeps referring to it as. The accident, like he’d gone and suffered a massive memory loss by total coincidence.

Asahi kind of hates it. He tries not to think too hard about it.

In hindsight, it hadn’t been an easy recovery. He supposes nobody ever really thinks about what would happen if they lost a chunk of their adult memories and nobody would tell them why. He’d had friends to support him through it, even if he had taken a while to remember the three of them, and because of their support he’d been able to get back on his feet.

He’s still a rookie at this detective work, but sitting down and poring over the facts and figures of the cases he’s investigating is oddly comforting.

Light peeks out from over the horizon as the morning settles in, blanketing the world outside and the living room within in a sheet of pale light. Asahi’s eyes ache from his lack of sleep. The bags beneath them have gotten worse, and he’s sure he’ll inevitably get scolded about them when he sees his friends again.

By the time Asahi arrives at his workplace, the city around him has come to life. It’s never quiet here by any means, but once the sun is up, it seems everyone takes to the streets at once. He leaves early to avoid the rush, but always inevitably catches the start of it and makes it just in time, stumbling into the doorway of the detective agency’s office.

“Hey, Azumane,” the receptionist greets with an easy smile, leaning over the desk to be seen, “just in time. Still relearning the trains?” Asahi isn’t too familiar with Narita, but the man is calm and rarely bothered by high stress situations, and he appreciates the cool head and easy attitude first thing in the morning. He’d been one of the first to make sure Asahi had felt welcomed here, and Asahi is eternally grateful for it.

“Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, averting his eyes, “it’s a lot to get used to all over again. I keep hoping I’ll just jog my memory somehow and miraculously remember.”

Narita laughs. “I’m sure it’s somewhere in that head of yours.”

Asahi doesn’t stick around to chat much longer, heading up to the main office. There’s only two others inside, both at their desks doing very different things. Akaashi, ever studious, is hunched over a case file from a recent completion of his, scribbling away. Kozume, on the other hand, their resident cyber specialist, reclines back in his chair, tapping away at his phone and looking like he’s half asleep. “Azumane,” Kozume yawns, “there’s some files on your desk.” There are in fact — Asahi turns to confirm — files on his desk.

There’s also a boy there.

His back is to Asahi, but he can see the slicked black hair, wild and dark, sharp against the evident paleness of the boy’s skin. The boy visibly straightens when Asahi turns to look, whipping around in his chair.

Okay, no, a man. A grown man.

Asahi feels a little like deer in headlights, caught in the sharp stare of the man’s golden eyes, interrupted only by the equal shock of bleached blond hair in the forefront of his bangs. Asahi feels pinned in place by that unblinking stare, and it takes him a moment to remember to move.

He circles to his desk a little hesitantly, starkly aware of the other man’s stare following him the entire way around. It’s still on him when Asahi seats himself on the opposite side of the desk, and Asahi steels himself to meet it, smiling nervously.

“Hello,” he greets, “I’m Azumane. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting any clients today.” “I’m Noya!” The man declares, gives no further context, and slaps a file down in front of Asahi. “I need you to look into this.”

The words CASE CLOSED stands out in stark red lettering on the front. Asahi resists the urge to frown. It isn’t uncommon for them to receive requests to look into closed cases, but generally speaking, they’re a waste of money and time.

“Listen,” he starts hesitantly, “honestly, I’m still very new at this. Could I recommend you to one of our more experienced investigators?”

Noya shakes his head adamantly, looking appalled at the mere suggestion. “No!” He says, loud enough that Asahi flinches. “This is important to me! You have to do it!”

“I-”

Noya stares at him, lips turned down, eyes wide in a silent plea. Asahi takes the file.

There’s no photo inside, but it's very clearly labeled as involuntary manslaughter. The victim had only been twenty-five, but the details are absolutely minimal. There really won’t be a lot he can do with this, even if he does accept it. He’s sure the case is closed for a reason.

“Look,” he starts, raising his eyes.

Noya is gone.

Asahi leaps out of his seat, file in hand. Noya had just been there. He’s not surprised the man is fast, but Asahi hadn’t even accepted the case yet, and Noya hadn’t even stuck around to answer questions. Asahi races out of the office and into the entry lobby, head swinging from side to side in search of the shorter man.

“Narita,” he asks, leaning over the side of the receptionist’s counter, “did you see where that man went?”

Narita frowns at him. “What man? I haven’t seen anyone pass by.”

“I-” Asahi sighs, dragging his fingers through his hair hard enough to yank it out of his half bun and just resigns himself, tucking the file under his arm. “Nevermind. Thanks anyway.” Narita gives him another odd look as he turns away, returning to the main office. When he enters, Akaashi and Kozume both glance up strangely, matching the look Narita had previously given him, but Kozume loses interest much quicker than he’s gained it, as if this is a perfectly normal, everyday incident. Akaashi’s gaze tracks him all the way back to his desk, and only then does it fall away, leaving Asahi to his own devices. For a long time, Asahi just stares at the file. Case closed stares back at him, bold and red and final.

It isn’t to say that it’s quite uncommon for them to get a closed case to investigate. Generally speaking, it’s recommended to avoid closed cases. More often than not, they lead to dead ends and more broken hearts than when they began. The police may not investigate as much as private detectives, but they weren’t always wrong by any means. But Noya hadn’t given him too much of a choice in the matter, so against his better judgment, Asahi opens the file.

It’s almost pathetically small, three pages at most. There’s no photos, but from what Asahi can gather, it’s a twenty-five year old man who fell victim to an armed robbery incident, whose death was ultimately ruled involuntary manslaughter as a result. The culprit had never been caught, but the man’s partner had suffered some sort of collateral damage. There’s no further information on any of the three; the partner is unnamed and there are no photos of the man or the partner.

There’s nothing here that points to the case being anything other than what the file says, much less any sort of connection. He considers, briefly, that maybe Noya is the partner and wants the man brought to justice, but he doesn’t have any confirmation to this theory. It just seems like a home robbery turned homicide.

It’s essentially a dead end. There’s no address to begin the investigation and no family on the file to contact in regards. If Noya is the partner, Asahi could start there, but if he’d suffered some sort of trauma related to the incident, then Asahi has to take his testimony with a grain of salt. And this is all based on assumption — he doesn’t even know the extent of Noya’s personal involvement with this entire situation.

Noya hadn’t left him any contact details.

The thought strikes him abruptly, and Asahi sighs. This isn’t going to go anywhere without Noya’s cooperation. Asahi hadn’t agreed to investigate it in the first place. Resigned, he closes the file again and slides it underneath a few others on his desk, where it’s quickly forgotten in the wake of the rest of his work.

When he leaves that evening, files tucked away in his bag, the sun hangs low over the horizon, lethargic orange rays reclined across the darkening sky. It’s as beautiful as it is ominous, and Asahi ducks his head to avoid wandering eyes as he hurries to the train station, long coat swishing behind him.

The temperature sinks as it grows late, and despite his scarf, Asahi’s face burns with chill by the time he gets to the stairs leading down into the train station. People swarm around him, talking and huddling, faces as red as his own and stark with the relief of getting somewhere decently warmer.

Close enough to the rails to actually get on the train, but not close enough to get trampled by those trying to get good seating, Asahi tucks his chin into his scarf and takes a steadying breath.

He wonders if he was always an anxious person like this; had too much noise always been overwhelming to him? Had he ever walked with his head up, unconcerned about the opinions of those around him? Was this ever present bundle of nerves set deep in the square of his chest just a side effect of a tragic accident that nobody will tell him about?

He slides his thumb over the crest of the wedding ring on his necklace, a motion that feels like nothing but pure instinct, and then nearly yanks it clean off his neck when a hand grips his elbow, hard, and he flinches.

Asahi looks down.

Staring back up at him indignantly, lips fixed into a frown and golden eyes wide, looking as if he’s entirely unbothered by the cold despite being in nothing but a t-shirt and basketball shorts, is Noya.

“Azumane-san!”

Asahi is unbelievably shaken right now. After all, the odds that Noya would show up at the same train station as him were slim, even for this side of the city, but here he is, grip hard on Asahi’s elbow. If Asahi had gears in his head, they’d be stalling right now, and the little embodiment of his consciousness would be trying to restart it to no avail.

When the wires finally reconnect, Asahi gasps. “Why don’t you have a jacket?”

The words come out more demanding than he intended, but it’s too late to apologize, so instead, Asahi strips off his overcoat, and then the coat beneath it. Goosebumps prickle over the nape of his neck where it’s exposed to the cold, and he hurriedly yanks the long coat back on, handing the other off to Noya. Noya, who has since let go, looks a little surprised as he accepts it.

“I’m fine!” Noya huffs, but he pulls the jacket on regardless.

The sleeves slip past his fingertips, effectively dwarfing him. Asahi thinks it would be rather comical if he wasn’t so upset at this precise moment, but even swallowed up by Asahi’s undercoat, Noya feels like a force to be reckoned with, a storm lying in wait.

Asahi can’t put his finger on it, but Noya’s brash personality seems familiar, somehow. Mentally, he goes through his limited list of friends. Sugawara fits the bill closest, but even his chaos is of a different sort.

The train whistle breaks him out of his thoughts. He spots the lights as it barrels down the tunnel.

“Have you solved the case yet?” Noya asks, gaze still fixed on Asahi, unwavering.

Asahi frowns at him. “Listen,” he begins, turning his gaze back to Noya.

His words die in his throat. Noya stares back at him, eyes glittering in the faint light of the underground station, wild hair stirred around his face by the gust of cold air the train brings with it. The doors hiss open, but Asahi doesn’t move to get on yet. People stream by them on their way on or off the platform.

He can’t say no. He doesn’t know what it is, but Asahi is suddenly resigned to seeing this through. Noya’s eyes are intense and focused, hard with determination and a type of fire that Asahi can’t remember ever seeing before. He can’t say no.

“I haven’t,” he says, “but I’m going to investigate it as best I can.”

Noya’s grin makes him think that perhaps this is the right decision after all.

The train whistles again. Asahi starts, whirling back around to the platform. Oh no, the train’s going to leave.

“Are you-” He begins, glancing back to Noya, intending to ask if he’s getting on the same train.

Noya is gone. Asahi stares incredulously at the spot where the man had been, dwarfed in Asahi’s coat. He turns, glancing a full circle around himself, trying to spot that shock of blond in the crowd, but no, Noya is gone.

Maybe he got on the train.

Asahi follows suit, tucking his overcoat a little tighter around him as the doors slide shut. The people on the platform all blur together in a mass of color as the train pulls away, but Asahi swears he catches the piercing stare of golden eyes. It’s gone before he can think too hard about it, and Asahi spends the train ride and subsequent walk home staring into space. He hadn’t gotten Noya’s contact info.

“I’m home,” he says to no one as he opens his door and steps in, taking his shoes off.

Maybe he should get a dog.

Sighing heavily, Asahi drops his bag onto the floor by the door, where it tips to the side and lets a few papers and files slide halfway out. He pays it little mind, figuring he can think about it later, and makes his way down the narrow corridor into the bedroom at the back.

It’s sheer muscle memory that gets him through his nightly routine, and by the time he lets his hair down and flops into bed, he’s too exhausted to think. The somber tendrils of heavy sleep drag him deep into the sheets.

He dreams. (He has nightmares.)

Wake up, wake up, wake up, the voice is saying. Asahi, please wake up. Please don’t leave me. Please, no. Please, no.

This time, when Asahi jerks awake, the sun is still low below the horizon and his phone reads 4:36 A.M, but there’s no chance of him going back to sleep so he dons a hoodie and decides to do something with himself. In the end, Asahi goes for a run. It’s been a while since he’s just gone out like this, so he takes the short route that loops through the backside of a local park. Asahi jogs what he can, but it quickly becomes clear that he isn’t nearly as in shape as he clearly had been once. He can tell he used to be muscular and healthy prior to the accident, but he’s hardly been focused on maintaining that post memory loss. Still, running feels natural, so he tries to keep it up.

He runs into Noya again. Asahi rounds the bend, huffs of breath forming white clouds in the chilly morning air. There’s only a handful of other souls up and about this early, and from what Asahi can tell, they’re all out running too. It’s a nice change of pace to get his mind off of everything, but it’s clear the universe has other plans. As he nears the park’s massive lake, he spots a figure sitting right at the bank of it, leaning precariously over the water.

Even from this distance and without his glasses, he recognizes Noya’s wild hair paired with the white t-shirt and black shorts combo. Noya’s back is to him, but he visibly straightens as the sound of Asahi’s footsteps approach, head twisting around to fix those ever startling eyes on the taller man. “Azumane,” his eyebrows pinch, “what are you doing here?” There’s this nagging feeling in his chest. It strikes him as odd again; something about Noya is so unnervingly familiar to him, but he can’t put his finger on it. He’s sure if they had known each other prior to his memory loss then someone as headstrong as Noya seems to be would have said something about it by now, but Noya doesn’t seem bothered like Asahi is. He shakes it off.

Something seems off. Noya is quieter, more pensive. His gaze has returned to the surface of the lake immediately after confirming that he knows the person approaching him. It’s a strange change from the loud, fierce boy Asahi has started to know him as. “Noya,” he greets softly, joining him carefully by the water. “I was out for a run. Are you okay? Aren’t you cold?” “Oh,” Noya seems to remember something, “I forgot your jacket. Sorry.” Asahi shakes his head. “It’s okay. You couldn’t have known I was going to come running. It isn’t like I’ve done this in a while.” Noya is staring at him again, eyes narrowed thoughtfully. He’s frowning — it’s only a faint, downward quirk of the lips, but it seems so out of place on Noya’s features that it catches Asahi off guard. A matching frown slips onto his face.

“Have you made any progress?” Noya asks suddenly, peering up at Asahi intently. “With the case, I mean.” “Noya, it’s only been a night,” Asahi reminds him gently. “I’ll look into it more later, but nothing’s changed from when you asked me yesterday.” “Yesterday?” Noya echoes, as if confused. “Oh… Right. When you gave me the jacket. Okay.” “Are you sure you’re okay?” Asahi persists. “I’m fine! Listen, I’ve gotta go, ‘kay? I’ll catch you again sometime soon.” Noya takes off before Asahi can so much as consider asking about contact information. At this rate, he’s going to be stuck only contacting Noya whenever they happen to run into each other in town. Belatedly, near the tail end of his run, he realizes that Noya must live nearby, to have been at the park.

So why had he been all the way across town yesterday? Asahi glances back, as if the answer will appear behind him. The cold wind replies, whispering through the bare branches of the trees. He just can’t shake the feeling that something is too familiar about Noya to forget. Maybe it’s just the man’s strange tendencies or the way he seems so desperate for the case to be solved as soon as possible, but Asahi just can’t get rid of this feeling. He doesn’t know what it is yet, only that it feels too important to completely dismiss a third time.

So this time, he tucks it away in the back of his mind for safekeeping.

⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤

“Oi, Azumane,” Kozume leans around his laptop, “what was that new file you got? An investigation?”

Asahi starts at the sound of his voice. After the two loudest members of their agency had gone off on lunch, the room had finally become quiet enough for Asahi to focus on his research. His desk is in clutters, public records scattered across the surface, laptop balanced precariously on the corner and held in place only by half of a large, opened book. Asahi is in the middle of rereading the case file when Kozume speaks up. He's so focused that, in his surprise, he nearly takes out his laptop himself. Kozume just lifts one disinterested brow, strands of dark hair slipping back into their usual place over his face. “Uh,” Asahi begins, eloquently, “something like that. Client wants me to look into a closed case. I think he’s probably got some pretty personal roots in it, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him it isn’t a good idea to reopen old wounds.” “You’re too nice, Azumane-san.” Akaashi remarks from his desk without looking up. “Sometimes, it’s best to put a stop to it before it can start.” “Then again,” Kozume muses, “I guess we are getting paid for this, huh?”

They lapse into a mutual silence again.

Asahi feels like there are still eyes on him, but Akaashi is still looking at the paperwork on his desk and Kozume has returned to his laptop screen. The rest of the employees aren’t here, and Narita is presumably still at the front desk. With a faint frown, Asahi shakes the feeling away and returns his attention to the files.

His information is severely limited. That’s the biggest issue. If there had been an address on the file he could have started his investigation there, but Noya would be the easier source. The only issue with that is that Asahi still hasn’t gotten Noya’s contact information to ask him about it. That being said, he’s not even sure if Noya actually knows anything or if this just happens to be a personal investment of his. Asahi isn’t in the habit of prying about people’s personal connections to a case. As long as he can get their information and go on about his business, he’s content, but Noya is so forthright and intense that Asahi can’t help but be curious.

It bothers him, but he doesn’t know why.

“Oh,” says Kozume, voice breaking into Asahi’s thought process abruptly again, “another robbery. I wonder if it’s a chain?”

When Asahi looks back up, Kozume is still looking at his laptop, but now he’s leaning closer to the screen, visibly reading something. He turns away and wheels his swivel chair over to the side table by the door to retrieve the remote.

“Last I heard, there wasn’t any correlation between the places that were being hit.” Akaashi replies, gaze lifting from his papers. “They’re thinking it’s separate cases, but who knows. The police don’t read too into situations if the evidence is obvious.” “Lazy asses,” Kozume scoffs, clicking through channels on the overhead TV.

“Robberies?” Asahi speaks up, confused.

He hasn’t been actively keeping up with the news outside of early weather reports recently, a little more concerned with his own issues and his work. It’s more than enough to balance work and the whole memory loss thing, and while he definitely should be better about keeping up with the rest of the world, it hasn’t been his main concern as of late.

Kozume settles on a news channel. The news anchor is in the middle of reporting on the subject at hand — another local robbery. It’s the third in the past two weeks, but there’s no evidence to connect it to the other two. This one had targeted a tiny, one bedroom home on the city outskirts. Asahi frowns at the news coverage. He doesn’t understand why anyone would target a place where there was unlikely to be anything to be gained, but he feels bad for the homeowner. The newscast says they came out undamaged since they weren’t home at the time, but nonetheless, he understands the feeling of having your life uprooted suddenly.

Asahi shakes his head and returns his attention to the files before him, scribbling notes down on things to look into further and potential leads. He’ll have to remember to find Noya again and get his contact information this time. Noya is the best lead he has at this point, and hopefully he can get something out of the other man to get him somewhere in this seemingly dead end case.

In the background, the television drones on.

When evening gives way to the end of his work day, Asahi finds himself searching the rush hour crowd for the tuft of electric blond that he’s becoming so familiar with. He can’t figure out why he’s trying to find Noya here; after all, he’d come to the conclusion that he lives on the other side of town, so he doubts he’ll see him here. On the other hand, it’s possible Noya works over here too. It’d be a strange coincidence for him to be in the same working and living situation as Asahi himself, but it’d make sense as to why Noya had come to their agency in particular. It's possible that it's also the opposite way around, with Noya living here and working on the other side of town. All of the facts Asahi knows check out with one of those theories; it’d explain why Noya was at the train station, too.

But by the time he gets to the station, he hasn’t spotted Noya anywhere. Even amongst the people waiting on the platform, he can’t see the wild, dark hair, and there’s a pang of disappointment in his chest. He tries to ignore it, but it’s a persistent feeling, and more surprisingly, one that doesn’t feel new. He can’t imagine forgetting someone like Noya, but he’d forgotten someone like Suga already, so his memory loss isn’t discriminating.

The train whistles a warning. Asahi startles, hurrying on instinctively. He hadn’t even realized the train had pulled up. He looks for Noya one more time, but upon confirming that the other man is nowhere to be seen, averts his gaze to his feet. The train doors hiss shut around him, before it lurches into motion, pulling away from the platform.

It’s strange, he thinks, how lonely the platform looks disappearing behind them.

When the train comes to a hissing stop at his destination platform, Asahi’s phone begins to vibrate aggressively against his thigh. He waits until he’s clear of all the people to check it, unlocking the screen to several tests and a missed call from Suga. Just as he’s going to check the texts, Suga’s name lights up his screen again. Asahi nearly drops his phone in his haste to answer the call.

“Asahi!” Sugawara practically yells. “Have you been keeping up with the news?”

Asahi slowly brings the phone back to his ear as he walks, having held it away in his haste to avoid having his eardrums blown out.

“The news?” He echoes. “Like the robberies?”

“Yeah! Apparently, there was another one! I guess the person tried to fight back and get this - they ended up in the hospital with multiple gunshot wounds.”

Asahi grimaces. If all of these robberies are connected, then it could be a problem. Generally speaking, most robbers would flee if they were caught or met with resistance, but if this one had no qualms with hurting people, it could get dirty. Asahi is hoping they aren’t connected, but it’s starting to look doubtful. He’ll have to catch up on the situation when he gets home.

“That’s-”

Asahi cut off, turning his head to follow the abrupt streak of color that had caught his eye. He’s a few blocks from his apartment, at best, but now he turns around entirely, gaze searching. He spots it again just in time to watch it vanish through the door of a tiny coffee shop. Asahi hesitates.

“Asahi?” Sugawara calls from his phone. “Hellooo? Earth to Asahi! What happened?” “S-Sorry, Suga,” Asahi says quickly, feet already guiding him towards the building, “I have to go. I’ll call you back later, okay?”

“Huh? Hold on, wh-”

The line goes dead as Asahi jabs the end call button, shoving his phone unceremoniously back into his pocket as he enters the cafe. The bell chimes gently overhead as he pushes the door open, and someone at the front calls out a greeting that he only half hears. He’s busy thinking about how Suga will be upset with him later for hanging up so abruptly; he’s thinking that maybe he should feel a little worse about that than he does, and it has him wondering if he’s less of a friend for it. He’s busy thinking about how he’s sure to get an earful later, but his body is moving across the cafe, toward a booth in the corner where he can see the backside of dark, wild hair, and the small flick of a tag sticking up from the inside of a white t-shirt.

The man in the booth lifts his head when Asahi rounds the table, piercing gaze fixing onto the detective. It’s as if he comes back to earth all at once, awareness lighting his eyes and his expression picking up in something vaguely resembling surprise. “Asahi!” He half yells, slamming his palms into the table and standing in one motion.

Asahi flinches at the abrupt shout and one of the employees glances their way. Ducking his head bashfully, Asahi makes himself as small as possible as he slides into the booth across from Noya, reaching out to gesture Noya back into his own seat. Preferably, he thinks, as quietly as possible.

Luckily, Noya drops unceremoniously back into his seat, staring intensely at Asahi.

“What are you doing here?” He demands.

“I…” Asahi grimaces, knowing how strange this is going to sound, “I saw you coming in. You never gave me any sort of contact, so I haven’t been able to reach you for anything regarding the case.”

Noya visibly straightens. “Have you figured out something new?”

“Well, not exactly, but-”

“Oh,” Noya continues, cutting him off, “I don’t have a phone.”

Well, that certainly threw a wrench in things, didn’t it? It’s just Asahi’s luck, he supposes. Still, he’s got to figure out some way to keep up contact with Noya, since he’s Asahi’s only sure link to the case.

His phone buzzes incessantly in his pocket.

“Okay, then take mine,” Asahi grabs a napkin from the table, fishing a pen from the front breast pocket of his jacket. “And if you can, just let me know if you come across anything new. Can we meet again sometime here to sit down and talk? Like Friday?” Noya takes the napkin and with surprising tenderness, folds it, and tucks it into the pocket of his black basketball shorts. He’s staring at Asahi still, but Asahi can’t tell what he’s thinking about.

“Okay,” Noya says, “Friday.”

And there it is again; Asahi meets his gaze and he feels like he’s missing something, like there’s a piece here that he should be aware of. He can’t shake it, that feeling that he just knows Noya from somewhere, from before all this.

“Noya,” he breathes, “have we met before? Before you came in with the case?”

Noya scrutinizes him for a long moment, almost unresponsive, as if the question hadn’t even registered to him. There’s something off about the entire moment, the motionless state of someone who feels like he should always be moving. Slowly, his lips pinch into a frown, just a little downward tilt that looks so off on his features. His expression darkens, hooded over like a shadow fell across him.

He looks unsure. He looks scared.

It’s only for a moment, so quick that Asahi is sure it must have been his imagination because then Noya is laughing, loud and rambunctious and more like the one that seems familiar to Asahi.

“No way!” He decides. “You must be imagining things, Azumane-san! There’s no way you’d forget someone as cool as me!”

Asahi feels like his veins have frozen over. He’s cold down to the bone.

“Of course,” he agrees, smiling shakily, “that’s true.”

There’s a seed of doubt rooting itself in his chest, and Asahi is too scared to try to figure out the root of it.

He stands again, bidding Noya a good night, and hurries out the door before the other man gets another word in edgewise, but he feels Noya’s gaze follow him out the door. His phone vibrates in his pocket again, and he takes it out, preparing himself for the earful he’s going to get.

Something is reassuring about Suga’s ranting on the other end. It gets him home.

When he looks over the case again that night, he writes details about the recent robberies down on a notebook next to it. He gathers what he can from the news and more from the internet. Tomorrow, he’ll get more info on it from Kozume, and Friday, he’ll get what he can from Noya. He doesn’t know yet if he’s making progress here, but he’s hoping for the best.

At this point, it’s all he can do.

It isn’t until he’s getting ready for bed, braiding his hair back out of his face, that the thought strikes him. He’s thinking about the tiny coffee shop, about the bell over the door, about the way Noya had called him Asahi. He has the distinctive memory of introducing himself only as Azumane.

So where had Noya gotten his given name?

⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤

“You look different,” Noya remarks.

Asahi feels like he’s having deja vu. He hardly knows where the week has gone, and now he’s back at the tiny coffee shop with Noya. They’re seated in the same booth as before. Noya’s shirt tag is sticking out. Asahi has his hair loose.

“It’s the hair,” they say, in sync, and Noya grins when Asahi cracks a smile.

“Finally!” He laughs. “I was starting to think you couldn’t smile properly! You’re so nervous all the time that I was starting to wonder how you’d ended up in this line of work.”

Asahi tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Well, I’m sure it probably wasn’t my dream career, but I don’t remember enough about my old life to know how true that is. I guess it seems like a pretty unpredictable career, but it’s routine enough to be comforting.”

Noya frowns at him. “Whaddya mean you don’t remember?” Asahi winces. Outside of the fact that nobody else wants to discuss the accident, Asahi tries not to talk about it too much. Trying to remember gives him an intense migraine, and he hates the pitying looks he gets from it. He hates feeling helpless, and there’s this part of him that wouldn’t be able to handle it if Noya looked at him like that.

“I had an accident a while back,” Asahi replies vaguely, waving one hand dismissively, “nothing important.”

Noya’s watching him like he doesn’t believe him. Asahi avoids his gaze; he has the distinct feeling that Noya will see right through him otherwise.

“Okay,” Noya finally says, “then what about that necklace you’re always playing with? The ring. Are you married or something?”

Asahi doesn’t even realize he’s messing with it until Noya points it out. He’s busted, caught like a deer in headlights under Noya’s drilling questions. His words die in his throat, lips parted but nothing coming out.

I don’t know, he thinks, clenching his fist around the ring. He shoves it back into his shirt and grips the edge of the table, focusing on keeping his hands there. “No,” he manages, smile tight again, “but it doesn’t matter. We’re here to talk about the case, remember?”

Noya’s gaze flicks down, but he doesn’t push it.

“Right.”

Noya talks. It’s not all connected, more stream of thought and dropping details as they come to him, but Asahi listens. He takes notes, putting things that he knows already on one page and things he’s hearing for the first time on another. Some of Noya’s tales have nothing to do with the case, but Asahi lets them slide, and then he realizes that Noya hasn’t been talking about the case for a while.

But here’s Asahi, pen down and still listening. There’s something about Noya’s energy that’s so easy to get wrapped up in, and Asahi hadn’t even realized he was in it until it was too late. Maybe it’s the way Noya feels familiar to him, like second nature, or the way he’s sure he must know Noya from before, but the sensation is contagious, quick like electricity and quiet like a thief.

“Azumane-san?”

Noya’s voice breaks into his thoughts again. Asahi starts, focusing back on the task at hand. He doesn’t know when he’d stopped writing, or when the case discussion had ended and the casual talk had begun, but he does realize, belatedly, that they never got their coffee. The baristas bring them out here, he’d noticed, so it strikes him as a little strange.

“Sorry,” Asahi tells him, “I just realized we don’t have our drinks.”

As if on cue, Noya’s gaze moves from Asahi to the woman approaching their table. Asahi tears his gaze away from the man in front of him to focus on her as well, putting on his most polite smile as she sets the coffee down in front of him.

“Here you go,” she says, “sorry about the wait.”

She turns to leave, and Asahi realizes that she’s only brought his drink.

“Sorry, ma’am?” He calls quickly. “What about my fri-”

He turns to gesture at Noya and falters. The seat across from him is empty; Noya is gone. The employee gives him a strange look, glancing between him and the empty booth across from him. Asahi swallows his sentence back down, where it feels like a thick lump in his throat.

“Nevermind,” he says instead, “thank you.”

She glances at the booth opposite of him again and then seems to simply accept it as strange, for she turns and heads back to the front, leaving Asahi alone with the ghost of Noya’s electric presence.

He ends up getting a to-go cup for his coffee.

Asahi doesn’t know how he got back to his apartment, only that he gets there and he comes back to awareness when he’s unlocking his front door. He falters, hand on his doorknob, gaze fixed on the crook between his thumb and his forefinger. Everything comes back all at once. Is this the right thing to do? Should he have just followed the advice and refused the case upfront? He doesn’t even know when Noya had slipped out. Had it been the brief moment he’d turned his attention to the girl at the shop? Asahi hadn't even heard the bell.

Why hadn’t Noya said anything?

Asahi is starting to think he’s getting too ahead of himself, thinking one normal conversation and a borrowed jacket makes them friends or something. But there’s the thought he’s been hesitant to admit to himself; he wants to be friends with Noya. Something about the other man makes him feel comfortable, regardless of his eccentric nature, and he’s starting to think that maybe Noya was right about his career choice being the wrong one for him.

He can’t afford to get attached to every other person he meets in this line of work. Noya is the first, but Asahi can’t say for sure if he’ll be the last, and Asahi doesn’t even know when the line in the sand got washed away. He doesn’t know if it happened halfway through their conversation or the first time he’d realized something about Noya was too familiar to ignore. Still, Noya had been right about one thing: there’s no way Asahi could have forgotten someone like him.

It’s the only reason Asahi is hesitant to let the feeling of familiarity go.

He realizes with a start that he’s still standing outside, so he pushes the door open and ducks into his apartment. Whatever he ends up deciding to do here, he’s got all the information he thinks he’s going to get from Noya. For now, he needs to crack down on the case. The longer he drags this on, the worse it will get for the both of them. He wants to give Noya the best chance he has of moving on from this, and the only way to do that is to solve it as soon as possible.

Asahi takes his shoes off at the entryway and heads into the living room, setting his bag down next to the low table in front of his couch. He yanks his hair up into a half-hearted bun and collects his notes and files, adding them to the growing pile on the table. Clicking the television on for background noise, he gets to work sorting. The details are still minimal, and the progress looks minimal, but it’s better than nothing. Besides, there’s still that robber at large, and while Asahi has no surefire proof to connect the two outside of a gut feeling, he’s learned very quickly to trust his gut.

He glances up at the TV just in time to catch a glimpse of a reporter standing in front of a house, door caved in and front yard taped off by obnoxious yellow crime scene signs. It catches his attention immediately, so he glances down at the caption.

Armed robbery. Voluntary manslaughter.

Asahi’s heart jumps to his throat. His eyes dart down to the file. What were the odds?

What if it hadn’t been involuntary? The file states that the person had been found dead at the scene, a victim of multiple gunshot wounds from a robbery gone wrong. Robbery. Check. Armed suspect. Check. Had they considered a lack of qualms against hurting people? Asahi flips his notebook to a fresh page and begins charting all the locations the robber had hit thus far. Maybe there’s some sort of pattern they’re overlooking, a rhyme or reason to the places the robber is targeting.

His facts are minimal but sure.

The robber only targets houses, never businesses. The types of houses vary. No known pattern thus far.

The robber is armed and dangerous. Generally, there’s minimal damage to any people they happen to rob, but when those people get in the way or fight back, it’s a different story. There have been people both hospitalized and killed.

The robber has no qualms about killing people who got in the way.

Asahi stares at the page. Finally, at the bottom, he writes Noya? beneath his list of facts. He doesn’t know what the precise connection is with Noya’s case in all of this, but if he can predict where the robber is going to strike next, maybe there’s something to be found there. That’s only if the police themselves don’t beat him there first. Either way, hopefully, some sort of confession would come out and Asahi could call this closed properly. If this is unrelated, then he’s going to have to think of something else fast.

It’s nearly four in the morning when he finally talks himself into going to sleep, but it’s restless at best, and he rises early. He’s off on weekends, so they’re his only opportunity to go get things done if he doesn’t want to go right after work. The case weighs heavily on his thoughts for the entirety of his morning run. When he passes the lake he’d run into Noya at that time, he pauses, only for a moment, to glance around, but Noya isn’t there.

Asahi keeps running, but he’s starting to feel less like he’s keeping active and more like he’s trying to get away from something. He feels like he’s running away from a lot of things, as of late. It can’t be helped.

Azumane Asahi is a coward, he tells himself, and this time he doesn’t think it’s a lie at all.

The next time he sees Noya, it’s on the same route and nearly a week later. Asahi finds himself searching the route consistently without even knowing if Noya even lives in the area, hoping to catch some sort of glimpse of the other man. He hasn’t heard anything from Noya since the day at the coffee shop, and he’s starting to grow a little concerned.

His traitorous heart says something else, but Asahi tries not to listen too hard to things made of glass.

There’s rustling overhead when Asahi passes beneath a tree. It’s followed by a loud yowl, and it’s this that makes Asahi falter in his steps. He pauses, turning his head up to squint into the branches. The early morning sun is bright, near blinding, but the shadow that covers Asahi blocks it out.

He sees the little tag sticking out of the collar of the white shirt first, and then the outstretched arm, pale and skinny, reaching out to a higher branch. Asahi can mostly only see the person’s silhouette, but he knows that figure anywhere.

“Noya?” He calls up hesitantly.

Golden eyes fix on him immediately. Noya looks vaguely surprised, arm still outstretched, lips parted into a perfect little circle. There’s a cat a few branches up from his perch, a skinny little tabby with all of its fur puffed out. Its teeth are bared at the other man, a low growl rising in his throat.

Asahi hasn’t ever seen a cat react like that to someone. Usually, the strays around this area are calm, used to the joggers and families who come through the park trails all the time. He frowns a little at the sight, putting one hand on his hip and using the other to shield his eyes as he peers up.

“Oh,” says Noya, “Hey, Azumane. Fancy seeing you here.”

“I run here every morning now,” Asahi frowns, “you already knew that. What are you doing up there?”

Noya gestures to the cat, who swings at his moving hand. “I came up to save him, but he won’t let me anywhere near him. I think I’m just gonna grab him and deal with the consequences later.”

“What.” Asahi intones.

Noya reaches for the cat.

“What?” Asahi repeats. “Wait, no-”

Noya stretches out of his crouch and snatches the cat in one quick motion. The tabby immediately begins yelling, claws sinking wherever they can reach. Noya yelps, and then takes a surprised step back into mid-air. Asahi shouts. All at once, Noya and the cat come crashing down through the branches, and Asahi slides down on his knees beneath them, breath leaving his body as they collide.

Asahi groans softly from his place on the ground. Noya scrambles off of him, eyes wide. He’s still holding the cat, who looks shaken, but overall unharmed.

“Asahi!” Noya gasps. “Are you okay? Shit, I’m sorry!”

Asahi waves him off with one hand, sitting up slowly. His torso aches where he’d ungracefully caught them, but at least they seem unharmed. His hair falls loose around his shoulders, and he looks around for the tie, only to find it snapped on the ground. It’d been fraying, so he isn’t surprised, but it’s still a little inconvenient.

“It’s okay,” he manages, when he finally catches his breath, “are you two okay?”

Noya beams, holding the cat up victoriously. “We’re totally fine!”

The cat bites Noya’s hand. Noya drops the tabby, and he bolts without so much as a glance back. The short man sulks as he stares after the vanishing animal, crossing his arms over his chest. There are claw marks down the length of his forearms and branches still stuck in his black basketball shorts.

“Rude,” Noya says, getting up.

He offers a hand to Asahi, but Asahi, a little doubtful that Noya can lift him, stands on his own.

“You should be more careful,” he says, frowning.

“I had it handled!”

“You fell out of a tree.”

Noya purses his lips. “You know. Fair.” He sticks his index finger out as if to agree that Asahi has a point. “You got me there.”

“How did you even get up there?” Asahi asks, gazing up at the tree.

There aren’t any visible branches that Noya could have used to climb, and Asahi has to admit that even with his height, he would have been hard-pressed to reach the lowest ones. There’s no way to get a handhold on the trunk, either, so he’s not sure how Noya got up there to begin with.

Noya shrugs. “I climbed? The cat couldn’t get down so I went up to help him.”

Asahi sighs. “Okay, Noya. My apartment isn’t far from here, so let me at least treat the scratches. It’d be bad if you got something.”

Noya hesitates, but then he looks down, inspects his arms, and grimaces a little.

“Okay, lead the way.”

Asahi tucks his hair behind his ears and turns, starting at a steady pace back up the pathway. Noya keeps at his heels, carefree and cheerful as he turns his arms over, inspecting his new battle scars. It’s almost endearing, Asahi dares to think, but he’s still not over how the cat had acted with Noya. Asahi is sure Noya isn’t a bad person, but he’s never seen a reaction like that in the months he’s been running here.

He frowns back as if the tree itself will give him answers, but it stands tall and silent, shadowed against the pale blue sky.

When they climb the steps to Asahi’s apartment, the realization hits him like a bullet. He’s bringing Noya into his apartment. How had they gotten here? Is his apartment even clean? It’s so plain that he doesn’t know what Noya is going to think about it. Had he done the dishes already or were they still sitting in the sink?

Anxiety settles in like a second skin, but it’s too late to do anything about it now. They’re already at the door and Noya is looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to unlock it. Asahi tries to hide the way his hands shake as he puts the key in the lock and opens it, letting Noya into the dark entryway.

Noya kicks off his shoes at the entrance, and Asahi follows suit, stepping in ahead of the other man. The sink is clean. The living room has a few books on the table and stray papers from his brainstorming session the other night, but otherwise it isn’t unacceptable. He flicks the light on and crosses to the table, shoving the papers messily together.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company,” he says, “make yourself at home and I’ll grab my first aid kit.”

Noya plops onto the couch, looking around like a curious child. Asahi feels strange having someone over like this. He seldom has company, especially new company, and he feels like he’s being assessed for some sort of test. Clutching the papers to his chest, Asahi hurries into his room for the first aid kit in his bathroom.

Noya is still sitting on the couch when Asahi returns. His gaze is fixed on a photo hanging on the wall. It’s of Asahi, fresh out of the hospital, Suga and Daichi standing just behind him in the frame. Shimizu had been the one to take it, and it’s one of the earliest things he still remembers. Noya frowns at it a little, like he’s struggling to think about something, and Asahi just figures he must have zoned out.

“Noya?” He says as he nears.

Noya straightens, almost imperceptibly, turning his gaze to Asahi as the other man crouches in front of him, opening the first aid kit and setting it aside on the table. Noya gets the hint and offers out his arms while Asahi prepares a cotton pad for cleaning the scratches.

“Ouch,” Noya hisses once Asahi starts dabbing over them.

Asahi shakes his head, holding Noya by the wrist to keep his arm steady.

“Are those your friends?” Noya asks suddenly.

Asahi glances up at him, and then back at the photo. “Yeah,” he says, turning his gaze back onto his task. “The one with the silver hair is Suga. The dark-haired one is Daichi. Our other friend, Shimizu, took the photo, but she’s not very fond of being in them. They were there with me when I was in the hospital for a while.”

“What were you there for?”

Asahi grimaces, remembering why he’d avoided the subject the last time he’d talked to Noya. “Uh,” he starts hesitantly.

He can feel Noya’s gaze on him, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. Asahi gets the feeling that he’ll spill everything if he does, so he stubbornly keeps his focus on treating Noya’s scratches.

“It’s okay, Azumane-san,” Noya laughs, “you don’t have to tell me. I was just being nosy.”

Asahi exhales, a little relieved. He wraps up Noya’s first arm, having finished treating the scratches there. Moving onto the second one, Asahi grabs a fresh cotton pad. He frowns as he sets back to work.

“Noya,” he starts, “where did you go, the other day? At the cafe, I mean?”

Noya stiffens a little under his grip.

“Sorry about that,” the other man mumbles, “I had an emergency I had to handle, so…”

“Oh,” says Asahi, unconvinced, “okay. I was just worried… You just up and vanished without saying anything.”

Noya doesn’t go into any more detail, and Asahi doesn’t push it. He gets the feeling Noya isn’t telling the whole truth, but he’s not going to try to force it out. He has his own secrets, and he’s sure Noya has plenty himself. Despite seeming like a very open person, he’s come to notice that Noya is strange, like he’s never quite there most of the time, and the times that he is, he seems so full of life that he’s ready to burst with it.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” Noya’s voice is painfully soft.

Asahi’s heart aches. He doesn’t know why that gentle voice hurts, only that it does something strange to him. He catches himself holding his breath, as if even that will break this moment. He knows better. He knows better. He doesn’t know Noya, and Noya doesn’t know him. They’re client and employee, nothing more.

Asahi doesn’t even know himself. How could he even hope to let someone else know him?

“It’s okay,” Asahi gets out, but his voice sounds foreign to himself like it’s coming from someone else speaking in his place instead of him.

Something about the intimacy of the moment makes Asahi feel like he’s an outsider, watching his own hands and fingers tenderly take care of Noya’s newly acquired scratches. He knows there’s more on the man’s face, but he’s scared to raise his gaze. He’s scared that whatever is happening is going to shatter the moment they make eye contact. Asahi is going to realize it’s all in his head, or Noya is going to realize it’s strange for him to be in what is essentially a stranger’s house.

He feels like he knows Noya. The feeling won’t go away, but Noya has told him that he’s sure they’ve never met. Asahi couldn’t forget someone like him, and Asahi is inclined to agree. He’s stalling now, and he knows it, and he’s sure Noya knows it, but neither of them say anything about it as Asahi cleans over the scars a second, and then a third time.

Finally, he bandages the second arm. Noya’s skin is cold beneath his grip, freezing like the other man has been standing in negative temperatures for hours. Asahi knows this isn’t the case, so he assumes Noya must just run cold in comparison to Asahi himself. Noya seems unbothered, either way.

“Thanks,” Noya finally breaks the silence.

Asahi dares to raise his gaze. Noya’s eyes are trained on him, sharp and focused with such intense clarity that Asahi is momentarily taken aback. Noya looks as if he’s a page ahead of Asahi, waiting for him to catch up. Asahi isn’t sure if he should, much less if he wants to.

“Well,” he replies, averting his gaze to get another cotton pad, “I wasn’t just going to leave you after I watched it happen. I don’t mean to be rude, but you seem like you’d neglect taking care of them.”

Noya grins crookedly in the corner of his vision. “You’re right,” he says, “I would. But that’s not all I was thanking you for.”

Asahi pauses, mid-turn, pad raised to start in on the scratches on Noya’s face. He blinks, confused. “Huh?”

“That was for everything,” Noya continues. “I know this case isn’t easy on you. I’m sorry I dumped it on you, but something told me you’re the only one who can handle it, and I always listen to my instinct. It hasn’t steered me wrong yet. So I was saying thank you for putting up with all of this.”

Oh, Asahi thinks, and then says, “Oh.”

Noya laughs. “Oh?”

“Sorry. No, wait. I mean… You don’t need to thank me.” Asahi reaches out, carefully starting to clean the scratches across Noya’s cheek.

“Ow,” Noya says, again.

“Sorry,” Asahi frowns, knowing there isn’t much he can do about the pain.

“It’s okay. I got myself into this, so I’ll tough it out!” The golden-eyed boy declares.

Asahi smiles to himself. Noya’s energy is near contagious, and he’s just about forgotten about his previous anxiety of having the other man in his house. Noya seems nonchalant and uncaring, like he doesn’t care to judge how Asahi lives either way.

“There,” Asahi says, putting bandages over the last few scratches. “Done.”

Noya gives him a double thumbs-up, grinning so widely it looks painful. “Cool! Thanks, Asahi! You’re the best!”

Asahi holds both hands up placatingly. “I wouldn’t go that far…”

“No!” A fire lights in Noya’s eyes, and he reaches out, grabbing both of Asahi’s hands so abruptly that the brunet squeaks. “It’s true! Don’t go selling yourself short, okay?”

Asahi’s voice catches in his throat. He wants to protest again, but Noya’s gaze is so intense that he physically can’t bring himself to do anything more than nod in agreement. It seems to satisfy Noya, so he releases Asahi’s hands and hops up from the couch.

“Alright! I’m gonna head out now, but I’ll see you soon, yeah? We’ll get this done!”

Noya reaches out, bumping Asahi’s shoulder with his fist. The little tap startles Asahi back into reality, and he scrambles to his feet, following Noya to the door and watching him put his shoes on. At the door, they both hesitate. Asahi looks down at his feet, but he can feel Noya’s gaze on him.

“Be safe,” Asahi says, finally.

Noya stares at him for a long moment. Finally, he reaches out, squeezes Asahi’s arm, and then turns away and bolts down the stairs. Asahi watches him jog down the road, and then vanish over the crest of the hill, out of sight, but never out of mind.

Maybe, he considers, he should have tried to make him stay.

Asahi stares at the hill Noya had vanished over for a long moment longer. He stares as if he’s waiting for the other man to turn around and come back, citing that it’s too late to head home, and the trains aren’t running anyway, so it’d take a while on foot. Asahi still doesn’t know if Noya lives nearby or closer to the agency, but either way, he could have thought of something.

He stares on, but Noya doesn’t come back. Finally, Asahi closes the door behind him and flicks the lock.

“You’ve been busy lately,” Kozume remarks, the following Monday, without looking up from his Switch screen.

Asahi doesn’t know how he gets away with playing video games at work so often, but he supposes as long as Kozume is efficient at his job, their boss doesn’t really care. He’s starting to give Asahi some eyes about the case he’s on, so he knows it’s time to hurry up and wrap it up.

Narita comes in, bearing coffee. He hands them out to each of the others in the room, setting Kozume’s next to him and handing Akaashi’s off. Crossing to Asahi, he offers out the coffee.

“Same as usual? How’s it going?” He asks.

Asahi accepts the warm drink from the receptionist. “It’s going,” he sighs, “I haven’t made too much progress outside of some guessed predictions. My sole witness has this habit of up and vanishing and apparently doesn’t have a phone to contact.”

Narita nods sympathetically. “Client isn’t making it easy, huh? This is probably your first one of those, but I see them come through all the time. It’ll work out, so don’t stress too much.”

“He can do with a little stress,” Akaashi comments, taking a sip of his coffee.

Narita turns to give him a withering look and then turns back to Asahi. “Anyway, drink up while it’s warm and then go back into this thing with a fresh mind, yeah? Good luck, Azumane.”

Asahi watches the receptionist go, and takes a long drink of his coffee. It burns his tongue, but he doesn’t flinch away. The moment of pain, however brief, does its part to make everything come into sharper focus. Three days from now, he’ll have been slugging through this case for a month. That’s the time limit he’s going to give himself; if he hasn’t figured this out or made any significant progress in the next few days, he’s going to tell Noya he can’t do it.

Resolution set in his mind, Asahi dives back into his work with renewed vigor.

“Don’t stay too late,” Akaashi says, later that night.

Kozume is already long gone, and Akaashi had finished his work, so he’s getting ready to leave too. It’s just Asahi now, with everyone else out. The black-haired man puts his jacket over his arm and strolls out. Only a moment later, Narita peers in.

“Azumane? Someone is waiting outside for you.”

Asahi glances up, confused. He hadn’t been expecting anybody, but it’s as good a reason as any to change location. He nods in acknowledgment to Narita and hurries to pack his things, pulling his bag over his shoulder and heading out.

Outside, he glances around in search of the person. It takes him a minute to spot them, but when his gaze shifts down, it catches on the streak of blond in Noya’s hair. The other man looks up when Asahi emerges from the building, and then stands immediately when he realizes who it is.

“Noya?” Asahi questions, surprised.

“Hey,” Noya smiles crookedly, “sorry for showing up out of nowhere. I was out and I just ended up here. Are you getting ready to head home?”

Asahi readjusts his bag. “Yeah, I just finished for the night. How did you end up way out here again?”

Noya opens his mouth to answer, and then closes it again, frowning in confusion. Finally, he just shrugs a little, as if he isn’t sure himself.

“I just did,” he says. “Can I walk with you?”

Asahi hesitates, but finally nods in concession. Noya falls into step beside him as he heads out towards the train station. It’s later than Asahi usually leaves, and the streets are nearly empty now. The sun is starting to set beneath the taller buildings in the distance, and Asahi gets the feeling it will be well past dark by the time he gets home.

“Do you live around here, Noya?” Asahi asks, glancing down at the other man.

He recalls seeing Noya back near where he lives, as well, but maybe the shorter man just gets around a lot. This is his chance to finally figure it out, so Asahi seizes it.

Noya hesitates a little, lips parting like he’s going to speak, then closing again. “Uh,” he starts, glancing around, “well-”

Noya cuts off, gaze catching on movement nearby. There’s a girl, no older than seven or eight, stumbling down the sidewalk. Even from this distance, Asahi can see the scrapes on her knees. She’s bawling, rubbing her face with the back of her hands, but steadily making her way down the sidewalk nonetheless, like she’s on a mission.

Asahi exchanges a look with Noya, and they both hurry toward her. Noya reaches her first, crouching in front of her and starting to talk. Asahi is a short pace behind him, catching up just in time to hear the child speak through her tears and sniffling.

“A bad man came into our house,” she sniffles, stuttering around her hiccups, “and Mama told me to run away and get help, but she’s stuck there with him!”

Asahi’s blood goes cold. This is it. The one time he hadn’t been trying to find the man and it practically fell into his lap. Noya is clearly thinking the same thing, expression hard and eyebrows downturned. He meets Asahi’s eyes and nods.

“Hi,” Asahi says, crouching down, “I’m a detective. I can go help your mama, but I need you to tell me which house is yours. Can you do that for me?”

The girl sniffs, looking up at him. “T-The one with the flower mailbox Mama and I painted…”

Noya is already running. Asahi squeezes the girl’s shoulders, getting back to his feet.

“Listen carefully. We’re going to go help your mama, so I need you to be brave for me, okay? Find someone and ask them to call the police for you. We’ll make sure your mom is safe.”

The little girl’s gaze follows him as he runs after Noya. He has no chance of catching up with the spitfire of a man, but Noya waits at the door for him, clearly trying to find a good way in. Asahi glances into the shattered window. The coast seems clear. He gestures to Noya and creeps around to the front door, opening it slowly.

It doesn’t creak, and Asahi thanks any god that exists as he and Noya sneak into the quiet house. Asahi puts a finger to his lips, signaling for Noya to follow him. Together, they quietly round the corner and immediately come face to face with the robber.

They catch the man by surprise. Asahi sees it in the glance he gets of the man’s expression before he’s forced to leap out of the way, bullets riddling the wall where he’d just been standing. To his right, Noya hisses from his spot on the ground, and Asahi has to suppress the nausea that rises in his chest at the sight of red blossoming across Noya’s shoulder.

“Noya,” he gasps, scrambling over, “I’m so sorry. I should have reacted faster. You’re going to need medical attention-” “Asahi,” Noya’s grin edges on pained, but he’s pushing through, nudging Asahi away. “I’m fine. I'm tough, remember? So don’t worry about me. I’ll live, so worry about that kid’s mom first. You bust that guy for the both of us, okay?”

His fingers brush Asahi’s cheek, cold against the skin there, and Asahi’s everything zeroes in on just that sensation. He focuses on the way that Noya’s hand feels against his cheek, electricity at his fingertips. He focuses on the way that regardless of whether he’d known Noya before or not, he knows him now, and he wouldn’t ask for it any other way.

Kissing Noya feels like second nature. He’s careful of the other man’s shoulder, even if it’s nothing more than a brief press of lips, but when he pulls away, Noya exhales like it’s the first breath he’s taken in years.

“Stay safe,” he tells Asahi, “‘cause if you die on me, I’ll summon you back and annoy you as a ghost.”

Asahi laughs. “I won’t. Get somewhere safe, Noya.”

He squeezes Noya’s hand and then hurries into the hallway, keeping low and staying alert. He doesn’t know where the robber is, but the robber doesn’t know his location either. But only one of them has a gun, and it isn’t Asahi, so he’s at a disadvantage here. His priority is getting the woman out safely, but he hasn’t seen her yet, so he’s hoping she’s already hiding somewhere safe. His and Noya’s arrival had distracted the robber for a moment, and he just has to hope the moment is enough if he can’t find her first.

Asahi ducks behind the couch just in time to avoid being seen by the man who creeps in through the next hall. He drops to his hands and knees, sneaking around the side to watch the man’s slow progression towards the kitchen, where he assumes there’s a side door. The man’s gaze sweeps the room once, twice. Asahi creeps forward when his back is turned, and the moment he takes a step to move away, Asahi lunges.

He’s scared. God, he’s terrified. He shouldn’t have made any promises to Noya. He isn’t immortal. If this man gets the upper hand, Asahi knows he has no chance.

But he can’t think about that. Right now, he can only focus on survival, on grappling with the man before him for control over the single gun. The robber’s eyes are wide, wild with disbelief. Asahi can’t figure out what he’s so surprised about; surely, he’d expected someone to come after him eventually for all of this? Asahi pulls and the man resists, They shove and turn and twist, brute strength against brute strength, fighting for control of the situation. A stray shot shatters a vase, and there’s a muffled whimper from the closet next to it.

The woman.

Asahi has the upper hand. It’s only for a moment, but the sound distracts him, and the moment is more than enough. The robber twists around and slams his elbow into Asahi’s face hard enough to send him pinwheeling back into the coffee table, head slamming into the wood hard enough to make his vision go black, and then blurry. The aftermath leaves Asahi feeling like there’s an army in his skull waging war against the bones, pounding relentlessly against his forehead.

It hurts. It hurts. He can’t think. He can barely see straight.

He’s been in this situation before.

When he manages to get his vision to focus, only a little, he is staring down the barrel of the gun. The man’s chest heaves, expression twisted in fury, all bared teeth and vicious stance. And this is it — Asahi has no chance here. This is the end, and his promise to Noya will go unfulfilled after all. He thinks about Noya, laughing loud and free, holding his hand to the sunlight so the golden band on his finger glitters. Except Asahi doesn’t know where he picked up that memory. His head is pounding, a steady thump, thump, thump against his skull. His head is pounding and he is thinking and Azumane Asahi is going to die here and now, just like the man in the case he’d been trying so hard to solve. He can’t even close his eyes, watching the man’s finger on the trigger as if in slow motion.

But it never comes.

Instead, there is Noya, howling bloody murder, all feral motions and vengeful anger, streaking out of the hallway and barreling into the man. They both hit the ground and the gun skids away from them. Asahi’s shaken, but he still notices the lack of red staining Noya’s white t-shirt. Asahi trembles, but he realizes right away that Noya’s wound looks as if it had never existed to begin with. Noya looms over the man like a wraith, teeth bared, golden eyes glittering with a promise, a threat, and Asahi thinks to grab the gun before the man recovers from Noya’s winding attack. The would-be thief writhes beneath the other man, but Noya is unyielding and less hesitant than Asahi.

He takes the flower pot off the table and breaks it over the man’s head, knocking him out cold. Asahi is left in stunned silence, clutching the gun, staring at Noya as he hunches over the unconscious man, shoulders heaving with every breath. Asahi is still concerned; he can’t see Noya’s wound, or any sign of it, but for all he knows, Noya had just managed to find an extra shirt. It’s doubtful and farfetched, but it’s the only possible explanation, isn’t it?

“Asahi,” Noya gasps, “Asahi, are you okay? Did he hurt you? You’re bleeding.” He hadn’t noticed, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, Asahi touches his head and his hand comes away red. He stares at his fingertips, dizzy, and finally sinks to his knees. Noya scrambles off of the man and barrels right into Asahi, straddling his waist to lean over and inspect Asahi’s head. Outside, sirens wail as their backup arrives, and Asahi sighs, relieved that the little girl had found somewhere safe. The officers come flooding in. Asahi feels like hell, but he’s more worried about making sure everything gets taken care of, so he directs them to the woman hiding, and then to the unconscious robber on the ground. It’s over.

Reaching out to touch Noya’s face, Asahi feels like sobbing. “I’m okay,” he rasps out, “I’m okay. You got shot, though, didn’t you? You shouldn’t do reckless things with a wound like that.”

Noya scrambles back off of him and out of Asahi’s reach before the detective can inspect his previously injured shoulder. He takes a little step aside, gaze averted, frown fixed on his features. Asahi’s eyes follow him as he moves away a little.

“Noya?” He frowns, moving to stand.

One of the officers shouts. Asahi’s attention catches on the shout and his gaze follows, catching sight of the previously unconscious man thrashing on the ground. He’s on his stomach facing Asahi, and one of the officers is straddling his back to cuff him. It’s his expression that catches Asahi’s notice, the sheer rage, face twisted up in hatred. His eyes glitter furiously, lips pulled back to bare his teeth in a snarl.

“You’re supposed to be dead!” He shouts. “You both died! I know I killed you, so why the fuck are you still alive?!”

Asahi’s heart falters in his chest. His head hurts. God, it hurts.

“I robbed you months ago! I shot that boy to death! You were dead! You’re supposed to be dead!”

He keeps shouting it. Asahi is cold to the bone, dropped into an endlessly deep pile of fresh snow with no way out. All he sees is the man’s face, and all he hears is dead and his head hurts so much. He’s supposed to be dead? He’s alive, though. He’s alive, but he doesn’t have memories, and he’s supposed to be dead. What boy had he meant? Noya? Did that mean Asahi had known him before after all? Had they both lost their memories?

Something is screaming in the back of his mind to come out. Asahi clutches his head in his hands, feeling panic swell heavily in his throat, suffocating him. His vision is dark at the edges and the gun is on the floor beside him, just within his gaze.

“Asahi,” Noya croaks behind him, voice soft and pained.

Asahi, it echoes and echoes and echoes, and all at once, everything slams back down. He remembers, and he doesn’t know how he could ever forget. The wedding band burns against the hollow of his throat like a brand. He watches, dumbstruck and breathless, as the robber is hauled out. He remembers who he is. He remembers who Noya is.

“Yuu,” he gasps, whirling around.

But the other man is gone.

⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤⏤

Asahi hates the smell of hospitals.

The nurse tells him he’s fine to leave, but he needs to come back for another check-up in a week to make sure there isn’t further head or brain damage. The doctors know his memory has returned, so they’re hopeful, but Asahi can’t share their joy. He goes home, empty-handed and desolate. He’s thinking about everything, about Yuu, about the wedding band around his throat. He doesn’t know where the other man had vanished to this time, but he hopes he’d at least had the sense to get medical attention.

And a week goes by.

In the seven days that Nishinoya Yuu is gone, Asahi dreams.

In his dreams, Asahi dies slowly.

His body is a mass of static and there is nothing but pain and pain and more pain. He’s vaguely aware of someone, somewhere, calling his name. Asahi, they’re saying, Asahi, please wake up.

Except this time, he doesn’t. This time, the pieces reconnect themselves. He is not the one in pain, nor is he the one being called out to. In his dreams, Asahi comes home to their shared home and finds Yuu on the floor, riddled with gunshot wounds and already bleeding out. In his dreams, Yuu is unconscious, and Asahi is sobbing, his voice cracking as he tries desperately to call the police.

“Yuu,” he’s begging, “Yuu, please wake up.”

In his dreams, Azumane Asahi does not make it home in time to stop his husband from fighting a robber. Azumane Yuu had fought alone and lost, and by the time Asahi had gotten back, he’d already been half-dead. Asahi hunches over him, pleading with any god that might listen.

He doesn’t know when he got up, only that he’s standing. He doesn’t know when the man appeared around the corner, only that he’s surprised by his appearance, and when they fight, Asahi does not win. He sees the table come into his line of vision.

There’s pain, and then there’s nothing.

Asahi wakes slowly from the darkness as the pieces slide together in his mind. Suddenly, everything makes sense. He hadn’t given the theory any thought before; it’d simply been the most unbelievable thing, but now he’s sure. It all makes too much sense. The name, the vanishing acts, the same outfit all the time, the strange looks Asahi would get when he would bring Yuu up with others, the missing bullet wound in his shoulder.

Yuu is already dead.

Asahi thinks the cold chill of resignation is the hardest part.

When he sits up, Yuu is sitting on the end of his bed. Asahi can see the door through his blood-stained shirt. The sight makes his heart ache anew. How cruel, he thinks, to make him fall in love with this man all over again, only to lose him once more. Had he really ever had Yuu to begin with?

Yuu looks like he had the last night Asahi had seen him as Azumane Yuu, and not Noya. His face is pale and hollow, golden eyes set into his features, a shade duller than Asahi is used to seeing them. His shirt, previously white, is riddled with bullet holes and stained with blood. Asahi is scared to even breathe for the fear of Yuu leaving once and for all.

Yuu doesn’t look at him when he speaks.

“I’m dead.” It’s not a question. Yuu knows this is a fact. “Right?”

“I’m sorry,” Asahi chokes out.

It isn’t enough. This isn’t enough. He has so much more he wants to say to Yuu. He wants to tell him how sorry he is. He wants to tell him that it should have been Asahi who’d died that day. Yuu had so much to live for, and Asahi barely knows how to live for himself. He wants to tell him how much he loves him, how they were supposed to have a whole life ahead of them. Their adventure had only just begun and it had been torn out from beneath them before they could take the first step.

Asahi chokes on his breath. It isn’t fair. It still isn’t fair.

He wants to say, please, don’t leave me again.

Yuu’s form flickers. Asahi covers his mouth to stifle the sob there. Yuu is in front of him now, gaze soft with acceptance. Even in death, he is the stronger of the two of them. Even now, his unwavering dependability makes Asahi feel safe.

“Asahi,” he says, ghostly fingers brushing past the strands of hair by Asahi’s ears, “I’m sorry.”

“What?” Asahi manages. “Why are you sorry? Yuu, I’m the one who should be apologizing. If I hadn’t gotten held up that day-”

“Then you would have died too.” Noya cuts him off.

Yuu stares him down, golden eyes piercing, and Asahi falters beneath that gaze.

“Asahi, I’m saying sorry because I promised you forever, but I have to go now. I love you so much, you stupid crybaby. I love you more than anything, and even if we were reborn, I’d find you again in ten thousand lifetimes. It’s always going to be you. You’re the kindest, bravest person I’ve ever known, and I’d do everything the same if it meant I had the chance to love you.” Asahi feels like he’s suffocating in his own words. He wants to grab Yuu and hold him close, but his hands pass right through the other man’s shoulders.

“I don’t know what to do without you,” he sobs, “Yuu, I don’t want to go without you. I don’t know how to socialize properly, and nobody else reminds me to take my meds. I can’t ground myself alone when I have an anxiety attack, and you always know what to say when I have a nightmare. I’m not brave. I let people walk over me when you aren’t there to tell them to lay off. You can’t leave because I don’t know what to do without you. I’m brave when you’re around because you make me feel like I can be.”

Yuu laughs. It’s a strangled half sob.

“Someone as cool as you shouldn’t be such a crybaby. You’re your own person, Asahi. You don’t need me or anyone else, even if you think you do. I’m not the one who makes you brave. You do that. And I need you to be extra brave for me now, okay?” His smile wobbles as he reaches out, hand hovering over Asahi’s cheek. “I need you to be brave enough to live the rest of your life, even if I’m not there to live it with you. I wish I could stay and make you as happy as you made me. I wish we could travel the world and have kids and grow old together. But I’ll always be with you.” And this time, when he reaches to touch Asahi, his palm settles over the ring strung around Asahi’s neck and stays there. The point of contact is warm, pulsing out into Asahi’s chest. He feels like he can breathe again. Asahi is so tired of being scared.

He manages a shaky laugh. “You still have my jacket.” Yuu smiles, something soft that touches the edges of his eyes. “Yeah,” he huffs, “sorry about that.” Asahi covers the hand Yuu has over his chest with his own. “Yuu,” he says, “I love you. I love you so much and I always have, and I’m sorry I never said that enough. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have the life we deserved. But I’ll keep living for you, as long as you promise to wait for me. Find me again in the next life, and the one after that, and the one after that. Please let me fall in love with you again.” A single tear slides down Yuu’s face.

“Always,” he says.

Asahi does not get his coat back, but he feels it like a pit of warmth in his chest when Yuu is gone. He sinks slowly forward, gathering the blanket up in his arms and pressing it to his face in a futile attempt to gather the last bits of Yuu’s presence from the fabric. But he’s gone, and Asahi is alone again, with nothing but the ghost of his memory and a promise. His room is empty and the pit of warmth in his chest is a sorry excuse for Yuu’s presence. He’s alone for now, but he’s going to be brave, and he’s going to find Yuu again in the next life. He may not have him now, but he’s never going to let him go again. He has that.

His fingers close slowly over the ring dangling from his neck, pressing the memories there deep into his chest where they’ll make a home.

(And this, at least.)

[deantransgressions2]

13x02 the rising son

21 transgressions. enjoy.

#1: dean criticized sam for wanting to protect jack, and then devalued jack’s entire existence to an “it”.

sam: “look… losing mom and cas, that’s a lot to process, dean, especially on no sleep. and the kid...”

dean: “the “kid”? come on, man, you know how this plays out. kook, when we try to bend the rules, pretend that the bad guys aren’t so bad or that things will get fixed, that’s when people that we care about get hurt. and then we end up doing what we should’ve done in the first place, which is end the problem. so this time, let’s start with the obvious. soon as i find a way to take care of… it.”

time tag: 3:17

#2: after sam failed again to make dean see jack as a child, he tried to make dean see jack as an asset. dean refused to listen or consider any of sam’s insights, and admitted that he is giving up on family, which is something he claims he would never ever ever ever ever do. 

sam: “dean, “the problem” might be our only shot at saving mom.”

dean: “mom’s gone. there’s no fixing that.”

time tag: 3:44

#3: jack was happily watching scooby doo and bothering nobody, so of course dean walked over and scolded him, then turned the tv off. apparently watching tv is illegal now yall!! 

time tag: 9:03

#4: told jack to take the couch and threw a bible at him. luckily, sam isn’t a child murderer and made sure jack felt welcome. sam = good dad. but, dean winchester is already worse of a father than john was. you hate to see it. 

time tag: 9:11

#5: dean criticized jack for eating the exact same way he does. mocking a 3 day old child just for the sake of it, just to make himself feel better. he is pathetic. idk why jack and sam put up with him these next 3 seasons. 

dean: “you can slow down, you know. that’s stuff’s not gonna disappear.”

sam: “ever seen you eat, dean?”

time tag: 10:02

#6: yells at jack for copying his movements. he’s 3 days old...3 days old. 3. 

time tag: 11:35

#7: sam has been rooting for jack to not be evil. he is focusing on WHO jack is not what he is. dean, however, is counting on jack being evil so he can murder him. the confirmation bias is real here. any instance of jack showing humanity dean just tunes it out. this conversation should remind you of dean’s view of sam in s4/5

donatello: “yes, well, not so much anymore. but, uh…look at you. the waves of power… so intense.”

dean: “maybe less human than we thought.”

donatello: “fascinating. you know, i’ve met your father. your power’s nothing like his. not dark, not toxic.”

sam: “that so?”

dean: “not yet.”

time tag: whole time but 15:58

#8: he was a dick to the tattoo artist for no reason expect that he loves to take his anger out on others. 

time tag: 16:44

#9: when in doubt blame sam! when in doubt accuse sam! when in doubt manipulate sam! wooohooo!!!

sam: “so you heard donatello. no evil vibes from jack.”

dean: “proves nothing, except that you’re way too attached to this kid. you need to see this for what it is, okay?”

time tag: 16:54

#10: lessons from our sexist macho man icon:

jack: “it hurt.”

dean: “okay, see, sometimes, things hurt, so you just man up and deal with it.”

time tag: 17:21

#11: some more of dean refusing to listen to other’s correct observations of jack, because there is no changing his mind that jack is evil. he doesn’t need proof that jack is evil, because he doesn’t want it. he wants to murder jack regardless of who he is. dean only cares about WHAT jack is. sigh. 2x03 i miss you. 

time tag: 18:43

#12: dean claimed that since cas loved jack, jack is therefore responsible for his murder. even though it was literally lucifer that murdered cas, not jack. so, using dean’s logic: sam and john killed mary, sam killed jess, dean killed john, sam killed dean, sam and dean and bobby killed jo and ellen, dean killed sam, dean and sam killed cas multiple times, sam and dean killed kevin....etc etc. do you see how fucking stupid dean is being rn?

sam: “okay, look, yeah, jack is on lucifer’s family tree. but we don’t know if that dna is stronger than Kelly’s, or his connection with cas.”

dean: “oh, you mean the connection that got cas killed?”

sam: “i’m just saying, jack doesn’t have to be evil. we can teach him not to be.”

time tag: 18:53

#13: dean called jack ‘the devil’ which made jack so upset he ran away. this is a transgression obviously towards jack, but also towards sam. dean said that a 3 day old child (who literally hasn’t done anything wrong) is the devil. he said it in front of his brother who was tortured by the ACTUAL devil (and michael) for centuries. it’s insensitive and fucked up beyond belief for dean to use his brother’s abuser to try and manipulate him to conform to his beliefs on jack.

NOT TO MENTION that dean is the only member of team free will with absolutely no supernatural abilities at all. he does not understand jack. he does not understand lucifer. dean is the LAST person who should have a say in if jack is good or evil. 

time tag: 19:25

#14: this is a abuse apology. many victims of abuse are manipulated to apologize for them and sympathize with them. this is a prime example of that:

sam: “dean doesn’t hate you. it… look, sometimes the wires in dan’s head get crossed and...and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and...and fear.”

jack: “why would he be afraid?”

sam: “because dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone.”

time tag: 20:45

#15: did the writers include this scene to emphasize that dean is john (but worse)....because that’s exactly what it did. 

bartender: “i hated my old man. I ran away myself. see, my mom would never stick up for me. but…you know kids. no matter what, they still want the old man’s approval. well, that’s how it was with me, just…”

dean: “you know, that’s, uh, that’s how it was with me, too.” 

i’m not sure what dean is referring to here because based on what the bartender is saying, sam would relate more to her story than dean but ok! sure! pity party time needs no logic

time tag: 22:17

#16: sam had to seperate jack and dean in order to protect jack. sam felt that jack was safer with a man that had no soul (donatello), over his own brother. and he was right!

time tag: 23:11

#17: dean made fun of sam and jack by calling jack sam’s “new pal” as a way to not only degrade jack, but also ridicule sam. 

time tag: 27:08

#18: dean is angry that sam isn’t blindly following along with his plans for jack’s death. and everything sam tried to say to get dean out of his child murdering mindset goes in one ear and out the other. 

sam: “point is…if you and i are gonna do this, keep jack on the right side of things, then...then we have to be on the same page.”

dean: “okay. well, that’s the problem, though, sam, ‘cause we’re not on the same page. like, at all.”

sam: “all right. you know what? i know what’s going on here.”

dean: “oh. okay. well, please, tell me, what’s going on here?”

sam: “you thinking mom is gone and cas is gone, and that jack can’t be saved. dean, after everything we’ve gone through… we just lost people we love, people who have been in our lives for a long time. everything’s upside-down. i get it. but we’ve been down before. i mean, rock bottom. and we find a way. We fix it because that’s what we do. and jack w-wants to do the right thing. jack’s scared to death of who he is, and he’s scared of you.” 

you know who else was scared of their father figure? dean. and sam. and now jack. dean stans can hate john all they want but the truth is dean is far worse. they both deserve a special place in hell together

time tag: 27:19

#19: the mental gymnastics it takes to come to this conclusion about jack. to ignore any and all proof that jack isn’t evil. it’s shocking how strongly dean holds onto hate and his need to kill. 

sam: “dean, wait a second. the kid came through for us today. jack saved us.” dean: “no. no, whatever that was, that was a reflex. it was a sneeze. maybe next time he sneezes, he kills us. goodnight.”

time tag: 39:32

#20: dean drove jack to self harm. dean then proceeded to angrily tell him off and call him names for doing so. 

dean: “okay. what the hell? give me that. you...don’t be an idiot. look, a, this is not gonna do anything to you, okay? and b, you… what the hell?”

time tag: 40:35

#21: this is psychological abuse. this is child abuse. this scene is as bad as the panic room of s4. disgusting. and some people actually ship this man with this child’s father (castiel). get help. 

dean: “you know, my brother thinks you can be saved.” jack: “you don’t believe that.” dean: “no, i don’t.”

jack: “so… if you’re right?”

dean: “if i’m right… and it comes to killing you… i’ll be the one to do it.”

time tag: 41:07

[idontmeantosoundrudebut]

Many of Horror (Chapter one: This secret goodbye)

Fandom - How to train your dragon (movie franchise)

Ship - Eretlout (+ background relationships)

Wordcount - 3748 words

Fanfic summary - Moving on is hard, especially from something that doesn’t want to be forgotten. But it’s easier when you have someone with you who understands that mind-scarring agony, it’s easier when someone will hold you in the dark when all the monsters come out to play, it’s easier when you’re loved. But Eret is going overseas and Snotlout is left alone in a cold bed. 

The dream is back and he feels sick. Sick in the head. (I really can’t think of a good summary for this, so sorry my dudes)

Tags/Warnings for this chapter - Mentions of past child abuse

So I have yet to finish this Fic yet but I’m just so excited to show it to yall that i just had to give you a little teaser!!! This fic takes place a year after HTTYD3 but the dragons never leave and Stoick never died because Hiccup deserved a whole family for more than one day (Dreamworks, i’m talking to you asshole)!

Also please check out The colour of friendship by Sarahenany and The colour of family by Thurdsday26 on the Archive because it they are big inspirations for this fic and if you love Spitelout bashing and Snotlout whump and found family then, oh boy, that is truly the jackpot of all Snotlout whump fics! Also, the title of this fic is based on the song Many of Horror by Biffy Clyro and this to the first like three lines and you’ll understand why! 

Please enjoy and give me any feedback that you have, negative or positive, do not hold back bitches!!!! Haha lol bruh

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Eret is leaving today, but he'll be back in a few weeks, a month maximum if the summer storms keep at bay (Ruffnut prayed briefly to Thor before bed last night. She doesn't know why; it was an impulse thing). He, along with six other crewmates, will be sailing far up north to the port-island he once called home to establish a trading route for Berk and to perhaps arrange a meeting between Chief Stoick and the chief of his native village. The Northmen are good people, Eret had reassured during a council a week back, who've long been held under the sole of Drago's boot and will gladly reward those who levered that pressure with both miscellaneous goods and a long-lasting alliance.

The only problem with this grand adventure is that they'll have to travel dragon-less.

The Northmen too have been terrorised by dragons for generations and they will not hesitate to net, bludgeon, and flay the first dragon they see, even if said dragon has a rider on their back. Act first and ask later kind of folk, a mindset which Ruffnut is very familiar with. Eret predicts that the concept of living with dragons in peace and harmony is one his people will be suspicious of for a time, but he assures that they'll warm up to it eventually. So, the first few trips will be dragon-less and slowly they'll weasel their Berkian values in, a very cunning plan indeed if Ruff didn't say so herself.

So today is the day of departure and she's on her way to the docks for the send-off, alone for a change. Tuffnut, eager to be out the house and tired of waiting for her to finish braiding her hair, had nabbed Barf and Belch and left her on her lonesome to walk. At first, she'd been peeved to all Hel, rightfully so, muttering to herself about how easier life would be without her dolt of a twin till she remembered just how peaceful, well, peace was. As vexing as Tuff is, Ruff cannot deny her sibling love for him, but she also cannot deny the simple serene beauty of silence.

She's striding down a street of huts, the docks insight, when she hears a terribly familiar voice.

"You better be back in two weeks, if you're not, I'm coming after you,"

Snotlout.

Ruff pauses mid-stride and takes a step back, looking into a narrow alleyway between two huts. She steps closer and presses herself against the left hut wall, slyly peeking her head out to gaze searchingly into the shadowed alley where she'd definitely heard Snotlout's voice. As mad as she is (and she is mad), she isn't to the point of hearing imaginary voices in the shadows (not for a few years, at least).

There. Stuck between a wall and a bulky silhouette, is the short and distinctive shadow of Snotlout Jorgensen. The figure Snotlout is pressed against lets out a hushed laugh, head bowing and if wasn't for that laugh, she'd definitely be able to identify him solely for the dark outline of his facial profile.

Eret, Son of Eret.

Oh, this... This is interesting, very interesting indeed.

"No promises, we might have to delay returning if we see a storm on the horizon," Eret informs and Snotlout makes a displeased snort, to which Eret adds in response, "But if we don't then, we'll be back as soon as we can. Snotlout, you won't even know I've left,"

"It already feels like you've left me," Snotlout murmurs, head hung low, and it catches Ruffnut by surprise, that statement because it's such a vulnerable thing for Snotlout to say and the way he says it, quiet and anxious, is so alien to her.

The use of the word "me" too, makes her mind turn and burn with theories because there is something so very deep in the small, added word. She doesn't know what yet, but there is something painfully human about it.

Ruff watches the shadowed duo, transfixed as Eret lifts a hand to Snotlout's chin, tipping his head up so that they are looking at each other.

It's such an abnormal gesture for her to witness, especially between two people with whom she's never associated such tenderness before.

Eret has always been this tall, handsome, foreign stranger with a silky voice and a self-assured walk, who is as handy with a sword as he is on a boat, who's always there to help and give back to the people who gave him a better life. Snotlout has always been this hot-headed, confident loudmouth who is way too short to be as brave as he is and is way too good at singing for Ruff to admit, who's full of unyielding loyalty and howling laughter. But most importantly, they hate each other.

Or, now that she thinks of it, they did hate each other.

The last few months have been lacking the usual rivalry between Snotlout and Eret and she doesn't know why it's only hitting her now. At some point, they two of them became friends and she's pretty sure she isn't the only one who hasn't noticed, which is so peculiar because she, and the others, have seen the two of them hanging out at the sawmill and flying together at dusk to light the torches. Gods, they drank with each other last night and there hadn't been a single crass word spoken. When did this happen? She and the rest of Berk have gone blind!

"Snotlout, I'll be back. Soon. I can't promise you when, but I'll be back, and next time I go north, you can come with me," Eret assures, and though Ruff can't see Snotlout's features, she can feel the atmosphere lifting and hear the smile in his voice.

"Yeah?" There is something so hopeful and childish in the way he breathes that word, something that tugs at Ruff's heartstrings.

"Yeah, I'm sure I can convince Hiccup to spare you of your very honourable duties for a few weeks,"

"Hey, shut up!" Snotlout's foot jerks out sharply to jab Eret in the ankle, the former laughing breathlessly in response, "My work is honourable, okay? Someone has to test all those crazy weapons Hiccup cooks up and I'm the only man for the job, no one else is as brave as I am," He exclaims, all confident and cocky and familiar to Ruffnut.

"You're sure right about that," Eret says as he again raises his hand and, this time, it comes in contact with Snotlout's cheek, she can see the faint movement of his thumb smoothing over the skin beneath his eye. His voice is awfully soft with a terrible fondness that Ruffnut sometimes hears in Hiccup's voice when he speaks about Astrid or vice versa, it's a tone that she automatically links up to people who are fiercely in love.

Oh, Freya, they're in love.

"You gotta head down to the docks, Eret, you'll be late to leave... or whatever," Again, that insecure whisper is back and by Gods, it sounds so brittle and shaky that Ruff almost considers the thought that Snotlout might be crying.

She would be if she was about to be separated from her lover for an unknown amount of time, Ruff ain't afraid to admit that, but if Snotlout is afraid of anything, it's expressing feelings and emotions (He's afraid of proving he's human, proving he's weak). But then again, maybe it's easier for Snotlout to air out his inner thoughts in front of Eret because, well, they're in love and to be so intimate with someone, they're eventually going to see all the ugly parts that you hide beneath the pretty façade. Eret has probably seen the old insecurity they all know that still lurks deep inside Snotlout, raw and unfiltered, a thing from his youth that made him angry and afraid, a thing that was just as damaging as the scars on his flesh.

Ruffnut, nor anyone else on Berk, will ever forgive Spitelout for what he did to Snotlout. She will gladly say that the day he was exiled was the best day of her life and she will not be alone in the statement. Cruel, merciless, cold-blooded bastard deserved to be Blood-eagled if you ask Ruff and Tuff (probably Hiccup too, no one was more enraged than he was.)

(Ruff has never been afraid of Hiccup, except for once. He's far too lanky, too merciful, too kind, to be a scary guy. But that day, when Snotlout had lifted his tunic in the clubhouse and revealed the ivory scars that were striped across his back and chest, she'd taken a step back at the sight of the inferno that had kindled in his eyes, at the sudden look of mercilessness that had steeled his features, at the trembling fists clenched at his sides. He looked like a man ready to kill, like a man ready to burn then world to the ground, like a man ready to give it all up just for revenge. She was afraid of him that day. So, so afraid that she had nightmares about him for days afterwards.)

"I'll be a bit late, the lads won't mind," Eret says lowly, drawing Ruffnut from her walk-in memory-lane, and she feels her heart tug as he bows his head to press against Snotlout's, "I'll stay here. With you,"

Forehead touching, especially in Viking culture, is the tenderest way to touch the ones who mean dearest to you. Be it a lover, a blood-relative, a shield-brother, anyone who is buried deep in your heart. And here, in the shadows of an alley, hidden and quiet like a forbidden dream, two people hold each other. Soon, they will have to let go and isn't that the most heart-breaking thing? Letting go?

Her heart feels too big for her chest and she almost feels like a changed person by witnessing this, witnessing something she was never meant to see. Will love be like this for her too? Terribly tender and awfully soft? She doesn't know, Gods, she shouldn't be here.

Ruff tries to drag herself back but she's like a moth to a flame, unable to pull herself away from this blindingly beautiful display of love, so raw, so real. She never imaged Snotlout to fall so easily to soft caresses, but of course, he would. It is always our deepest wants that will bring us to our knees and all Snotlout has ever wanted is love, a gentle hand, a place to bury his heart.

They share a deep and long kiss. It makes her feel lonely and she doesn't know why. They part, breathing on each other's lips and holding each other tightly because they know, they know, they have to let go any moment. Their foreheads are still touching.

"Promise me," Snotlout whispers and she sees the silhouette of his Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly, "promise me you'll come back. To me. Eret, promise you'll come ba-"

A quick but meaningful kiss quietens Snotlout's desperate pleas and Ruffnut has never heard him beg before, not like that, not like he's afraid that Ragnarök is about to fall upon them. Eret cradles Snotlout's face with his large hands. They are so close, they've almost become one shadow.

"I promise you, Snotlout," Eret vows, quiet but vehement, his lips brushing against Snotlout's, "I promise that I will come back to you,"

Another kiss is shared between them, sealing the oath that Eret has made and therefore making it unbreakable. Eret will return, he has to, and Ruff doesn't know what will happen if he doesn't. Something tragic, something unbearable to watch, something she can't allow to happen. She will not see Snotlout ruined again. So, she promises herself that if Eret does not return, she'll fly herself up to Valhalla, drag him back to Berk and the Gods best keep themselves to themselves and not get in the way of her mission, lest the know the true wrath of a Thorston woman.

"Come on, before Hiccup starts a search party," Snotlout says, voice stronger now that the promise of returning has been made, "Selkie's gonna want a proper goodbye too or she's gonna follow you the whole way,"

Eret nods in agreement and peeks his head out of the alleyway, looking up and down the street in search of any unwanted bystanders. In the sunlight, his eyes glitter amber and Ruffnut can make out his hand, large and golden, curled around Snotlout's.

"You sure you can handle her? I know that-"

"Gods, Eret, she's the timidest Thunderdrum I've ever seen! If I can handle Hookfang and a borderline psychotic Terror, among other things, then she's going to be a piece of cake," He reassures, almost sounding offended, and Eret chuckles softly as he gives Snotlout a fond look.

Ruff watches them step out from the alley into the sunlit street, hands no longer intertwined. She can make out the red flush on Snotlout's cheeks and the faint wetness beneath his eyes, which he wipes away hastily. The two of them share a look, secret and quiet, lips curled into gentle smiles, fingers twitching with the longing to touch. Then, as sudden as lightning, the tender-faces fall away and they leave, together but still somehow so far apart. They enter the real world not as lovers, but as friends, as a secret waiting to reveal itself.

For a few moments, she stays where she is, staring into the unlikely place of a secret lovers' farewell. Who knew that a place like this, small and dark, would hold such a tragic and beautiful moment? Ruffnut feels a mixture of emotions, the biggest one being happiness because bless the Gods, Snotlout has found love and if anyone deserves it, it's him.

At the after ceremony of Hiccup and Astrid's wedding a year back, a drunk Snotlout had suddenly embraced her tight and long and said; I'm gonna be alone forever, Ruffy, but that's okay, I got you guys, so... I not really alone. And being just as drunk as he was, she'd laughed and poured him another drink, dancing with him till the sun came to steal the night. She didn't remember what he said till a few days after and it had filled up with such a fierce and sudden sadness that Tuffnut had dragged her home, demanding an explanation for the terrible look in her eyes.

That's the thing with a twin like Tuff, the second her mood changes, he can sense it like a hunting dog catching the scent of blood. She can do it too, but Tuff has never been one to hide his true feelings while she, similar to Snotlout, would rather avoid the conflict of talking sentiments (even with Tuff). Her brother has to drag it out of her most times, corner her and say stupidly melancholic stuff like;

I can smell it, sister. You're sad.

Tuffnut is a curse and blessing all at once and she wouldn't have it any other way.

But anyway, she's overjoyed to see Snotlout in love and loved, but she's also anxious about it. Anxious in a way an older sibling is over a younger sibling when they start to dabble in dangerous things, in things that can get them hurt. And if love is anything, it's dangerous. If love can do anything, it can get you hurt.

Snotlout has been hurt enough. Snotlout has endured and lived through torture and torment, through betrayal and loss, through things she can't imagine surviving. She will not see him hurt again, not by Eret, not by love, not by anything. He doesn't deserve it.

The others will also share her feelings when they discover this secret love story, that she is sure of. Especially Hiccup, who in the past few years has become like an older brother to Snotlout (like the same way that Stoick has become a father to him, the same way Valka has become a mother to him). He takes his new sibling occupation very seriously and it is comical, the wiser brother and the reckless brother always at odds but always there to protect each other.

There's a headache brewing in her temple. Gods, she's been thinking and overthinking again.

It'll be fine, she reassures herself, stepping away from the alley and making towards the docks, the Gods wouldn't curse them all with more bad fortune, would they?

It's probably the most stupid question she's ever thought, in hindsight.

When she gets to the docks, it's jam-packed with dragons and Vikings alike, friends and family saying farewell to the crew and wishing them good fortune on their journey. The sky is clear and blue, perfect for sailing, and Ruff concludes that she wasn't the only one begging Thor to keep his storms to himself.

Immediately, her eyes are drawn to Tuffnut, dangling upside down from Belch's neck as he converses with a bemused Fishlegs. She's tempted to go over, but not yet, she has to do something first.

She quickly surveys the area, seeing one of the Berkian members of Eret's crew giving his vermilion Nadder a thorough farewell and a Northman kissing his Shield-maiden fiancé goodbye.

The Northmen, Eret included, were intrigued to see such wild and free women when they first came to Berk. Berkian women are hearty and frightening and hard to impress, daughters of wolves, bearers of warriors, the fiercest things on the battlefield.

So it had been a cultural shock to them, Eret had admitted one day, for their home only holds women who sew the clothes and make the food, who bear the children and tend to the house, who are quiet and timid and easily won over by a half-assed sonnet. Most marriages are arranged and many daughters are traded for land or gold, true love is a rarity to come by. Eret is proud of his home, but these are the parts he is ashamed of.

Astrid was the first woman Eret had ever seen to hold a weapon and he'd never met a woman as savage as Ruffnut before. Ruff will forever be proud that she was Eret's first taste of wildness.

There. She's found who she's looking for.

Eret kneels on one knee before Selkie, his beauty of Thunderdrum. She's orange like a sunset, pale and washed-out, with white flecks scattering her hide like parted clouds, matching her ivory belly, and Ruffnut has never seen a dragon with eyes that blue before. Selkie lets out an unhappy groan as she presses her face further into Eret's hand, eyes low in her grief as she listens to his whispers. Ruffnut can't make out what he's saying, but she's sure it's everything soft and reassuring.

Snotlout is close by, she notices, watching Eret with an open fondness. If Hiccup or Astrid walked by right now and took notice of the raw love in Snotlout's gaze, they would immediately know the truth. Clearly, she isn't the only one thinking this because Hookfang, stood beside his rider, nudges Snotlout with a warning hiss in the back of his throat. Never let it be said that Hookfang doesn't look out for Snotlout, he's ornery and easily distracted, but he makes up for it all with his loyalty.

Soon enough, the ship is ready and it's time to go. People gather along the docks and make their last hurried farewells. The drums begin and the chants of fortune echo across the waters, there's an intoxicating atmosphere permeating the air. Ruffnut hurries through the crowd, easily shoving unmoving folk to the deck in her haste because she has yet to speak with Eret. He's shaking hands with Chief Stoick and is about to go up the gang walk when she suddenly lunges herself at him.

"Ruffnut!" He gasps, surprised and clearly a bit uncomfortable, but he'll have to deal with her for the moment, "Thought you weren't going to- uh- show,"

"Course I was, idiot, and anyways-" She leans her head close to his ear and wraps a hand around his bicep, digging her sharp nails into his flesh threateningly as she whispers, "-I have to remind you to keep to that promise, Eret, son of Eret, I'm not going to have Snotlout hurt again. I was robbed of my revenge last time, I won't be again,"

When she pulls back, she flashes him a smile with too many teeth and bats her lashes with an intimidating gleam in her eyes. She's given this look to men who are now dead and it is Eret's choice if he wishes to be added to that mass grave. Eret stares back at her with shocked eyes, cheeks slightly red, and he clenches his jaw as he swallows thickly, rubbing a hand over the raised welts on his bicep. The drums echo across the water and the chanting voices chase after in earnest. After a bewildering moment, Eret gives her an awkward but thankful smile and nods his head in understanding.

"I'll keep that in mind," He says and all the tension in his muscles seem to slip away as Ruffnut softens her menacing gaze on him, clapping him boisterously on the already injured shoulder.

"Atta boy," She cackles, shoving him up the gang walk as she calls after him, a throaty laugh colouring her words, "You better be back in two weeks, you son of an Eret, or I'm coming after you!"

To her delight, she hears him laugh back at her.

The ship finally departs from the dock, sail high and proud as its pushed by the encouraging wind and the waves part smoothly as the bow cuts through the water, sure and steady. Some of the crew hang off the ratlines, saying goodbye to Berk (for now), and Eret stands, tall and almost warrior-like, on the stern. The salt-touched wind carries his dark hair and the sun reflects off his dark eyes, they glitter with a sadness that Ruffnut wouldn't have noticed if she didn't know the things she knew. His smile is melancholic, Gods, he already looks homesick. He's looking at someone and she already knows who.

Turning to look at Snotlout, she can see that his hands are balled up into white-knuckled fists, that his smile is forced and pained, that his eyes shimmer with tears.

Snotlout has always hated goodbyes. Especially ones that aren't supposed to last. Because they always do.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Ok so I've been stalking your blog for the past couple of hrs after seeing your TadaAi posts (I'm drowning in the period drama that is this ship) and I find you ship Tododeku and rinharu (god i can't stand bakudeku and makoharu) and seems like we share a lot of our views on fandom and ships probably because we're older (I'm 22). Followed and looking forward to your input in the future!

Also you might've given me the motivation to finish watching Free! XD

Hehe yay, please, we need more ppl in our “house of oldies”, make yourself at home lol. And we share a lot of ships?! Even better <3

I knooow, I can’t believe we’ve got a gay “master who fell in love with his servant” ship in the anime, just what I needed for my idiotic collection lmao

But also these two have too much going on between them, so much wasted potential in my opinion, it’d be so interesting to explore (but sadly no xD), they were still the only interesting thing for me lolz. I love complicated morons, who became the victims of a huge unrequited requited love misunderstanding, bc they’re insecure morons lmao and they just have 2 of my fav ships vibes, so it’s probably mostly this haha. 

Oh, I’m inputting *wink wink*, can’t wait to finish the vid, I’m having too much fun with it. I’ve just literally spent several minutes trying to get whether I’ve put Tadashi’s sexy mole in the right distance from his eye in the “him moaning on the table” manip lolz. What can I say... I picked the best hobby, with all the support I’m getting with my vids, I’m living a dream xD

You know, I think I’ve said it before, but when it comes to bakudeku, I at least understand what ppl hope to see there and why, but like.. it’s just not happenning. Also imagining Bakugou lovingly hugging Midoriya is just so OOC I start laughing all the time. And whatever ppl say, in any ship whether they’re enemies or rivals or anything, if you can’t imagine them being tender with each other, smth is not right in my opinion. Also once again, who needs idiotic bleating Midoriya, idk. I’m just tired of the endless “die, deku/out of my way” yelling, I like watching Bakugou going to parties and amusement parks and doing silly stuff, too. Like I’ve said before, pride won’t ever let him change the way he behaves with Midoriya, even when they’re doing “great”. If he was the one, it wouldn’t have mattered, no matter how tough you are, and it wouldn’t take that long. I also don’t think they’re that kind of relationship, like they move each other for sure, sometimes, yeah (not always in a good way tho), but be together in a relationships? Can’t imagine that. Like not all rivals have the rivals to lovers dynamic, no matter what ppl say. But I get the shipping, bc 1stly these two are playing too huge of a role in each other’s lives, 2ndly Midoriya is obsessed with him and Bakugou obsessed with him too (just in a bad way lmao) and 3rd ppl want that “enemies to lovers” dynamic, since many love it (me included, when it done right and progresses right), so they’re trying to write that “to lovers” bridge, that just doesn’t fit here in my opinion, simply bc Bakugou won’t be soft with Midoriya, like ever in a way, you’d want, and I don’t think it’s possible for them to go there.

Tododeku on the other hand, 1stly they also play too huge of a role in each other’s lives, 2ndly Midoriya is obsessed with him too and Todoroki is lovingly obsessed with him in return, 3rdly they are also rivals to lovers, and I have no problem imagining the second part, it won’t be OOC, 4thly Midoriya when he’s with Todoroki is my fav Midoriya, he’s happy, he is cocooned and he’s badass af (and like when he told Endeavor to fuck off or yelled at Todoroki “the fuck are u doing?” xD are still the best), 5thly Midoriya forgets about Bakugou, when he’s with Todoroki a lot and it’s just funny to me, 6thly they healed each other so nicely, I can’t not be into that, 7thly when they’re together I have like 0 worries, idk I’m like “he will catch him” anyways haha, Bakudeku just don’t give me this vibe. It’s like yeah, they won’t let each other die, but it’s always this chaos of “out of my way”, “I don’t want your help” and “let me punch you before I punch the villain” that I’m just “oh for god’s sake, pls bring in Kirishima and Todoroki so we could just go home, it could’ve been solved in 2 minutes” lmao. Etc, etc.

Tododeku just have too many winning points over bakudeku for me, same with kiribaku over bakudeku, even tho I 100% get bakudeku as a ship ofc. Also idk whether things would be different if Todoroki wouldn’t exist in the equation, but the moment I saw that s2 scene where Bakugou started yelling and Todoroki just ignored him and was like “was Midoriya always this good?”, there was no going back to me XD. Like they both obviously see that Midoriya is wonderful, but only one reacted to that in a way that I wanted. And I’m a sucker for the ships who don’t give a fuck and like “yeah, I find him amazing and everyone should know that”. Todoroki is also one of those guys, who if you give them the much needed love, they’ll return it tenfold with a forever devotion. And all of my fav ships are like that: Yullen, Rinharu, Mikayuu, Wangxian, Akakuro, etc. They’re like “well, I ain’t an idiot to let someone this precious go”, you know lol

On the other hand, when it comes to Kirishima, Bakugou can do all kind of ridiculous thing I wouldn’t imagine he would do to keep him or make him happy, you know. Kirishima is also the only one, who can put his arm around Bakugou without it being cut off, so I don’t make the rules here lol.

So it’s not like I can’t stand bakudeku, more of like can’t imagine this work, to me it’s easier to imagine todobaku in a relationships, but not bakudeku lolz.

But when it comes to makoharu, I just have a huge problem with it and I will never get it. Bc they don’t bring anything good in each other like AT ALL, I don’t even understand what kind of relationships this is from their shipper point of view; they give each other nothing, and one of them is totally in love with someone else and wants a future with him. And that someone also head over heals with him and also wants a future with him. And I hate how 99,9 % of mh fans don’t give a fuck about Haru or Rin whatsoever and just ignore their character’s everything. Bc Makoto. I’m also like if you love him so much, the fuck would you want him to be with Haru anyways, dude doesn’t reciprocate, like at all. I’m at confusion, like name good points of this ship and what good can they do for each other characteristically. There is none, it’s like a damn swamp. Like usually I can give my notp some points, but this is like... they’re both no good for each other... like... why would anyone even want this idk. Don’t tell me “for the childhood friends” one-sided dynamic, like why won’t you also ship Shion with Safu then, like even he seemed more invested in that, than Haru in makoharu lol.

Even if you think of them from the point of view of “the two who are always walking together” ships, that are everywhere nowdays (even tho since Haru moved to Tokyo, he was always with Asahi instead), but even if... those kind of ships are usually at least make each happy and are enough for each other. Haru on the other hand, when he doesn’t have Rin, he is walking with Makoto like a ghost, not even caring if he’s talking next to him AND he’s getting ennoyed by him. Like explain, how someone’s shipping them romantically. It’s been showed like 20 times, that with Rin, but without Makoto, he can be perfectly happy, without Rin tho, he never is.

Also someone explain, what exactly is the point of splitting up two characters, who are happy together, make each other the best versions of themselves and want to be together whole-heartedly? Like I know many start shipping smth, bc the relationships are better in the other pairing, for example, but this is like... definitely not the case here. Like what exactly is missing in rinharu, that makoharu has? Lack of progression and mutual inspiration?

So yes, if you’re into rinharu, totally finish Free! They’re like doing sooo incredible and holy shit they’re inspiring, I mean, look, they’re now the tokyo olympics ambassadors, like how many of yall gay ships reached that? you can’t miss out on them, and also they’re so hilariously romantic, they literally made a wish to swim with each other since they were 13 and did everything to get each other there, I’m.. you’re lying, if you didn’t cry watching them as chibies making wishes on a star and watching them now. One of the most wonderful development in my opinion. Like who would’ve thought back in s1, that we’ll get Haru yelling on top of Rin about how he made him want a future with him, def not me lmao and now all the olympics boyfriends fanfiction are true, I mean, idk what to say anymore. I miss them so much, I can’t wait for the movie :D

[aprito]

hello <3 since i got these asks at the same time i decided to combine my thoughts on them in this post. yet another annoying sjw essay from yours truly on this blog 

before i get into these i think i need to preface why im like. i guess overly hyperfocused on a certain unproblematic base (same age au / platonic canon) for them and avoid the ped0philic content like the plague lol

tw for pedophilia ment, rape ment if that makes you squicky. ALSO THIS IS LONG AND RAMBLY

as i’ve mentioned a couple times already, ive been into the ship since i was 12, back when it was very very common to not only post untagged (nsfw) canonverse content of the two in writing and in drawing but also non con and the like, so you can imagine how bad my first impression online was. thinking back on it ...as a child i found it disturbing but didnt really register how problematic it really was?? (i know, but i also lived in the middle of nowhere and had no one explain this to me) 

skip to 2014 aka me coming back to naruto at 17ish and i had kinda become hyper aware of the fact that there was an increasing amount of people online who had come forward with explaining how fictional problematic content, mostly pedophilia, had been used to groom them into starting relationships with adullts. it was also a time where a lot of people didnt believe these victims, not registering how common it was for minors to be online friends with adults who had no boundaries and no qualms exposing them such content. not gonna get into my personal life here but i was lucky to not having gone through this myself. like... it kinda was my first time truly realising how fiction can EASILY be used to manipulate others irl (and yes i will not argue this, if you dont think fictional media can form and manipulate people’s opinions on attitudes, countries, cultures and virtues, pick up a book about the effects of propaganda media at least once please) 

i, being young, still liking the dynamic but not really the romance, would point this out here and there in the fandom and get into fights with grown adults in their mid 20s who assumed i automatically hated the ship(s) and tried to restrict their freedom of speech or whatever, heard everything from the “age of consent doesnt exist in naruto” to the “sasori looks like a child what does it matter” despite people clearly playing on him being older and experienced. it made me so upset that people were just consuming all this content uncritically and exposing children to it tbh?? not really just sos but a lot of minor/adult ships in naruto in general. and thats where i sat down and thought, i do not want to be a grown adult talking down to children that point out how unsafe the fandom is. theyre absolutely right in drawing these boundaries and calling out adults who defend the uncritical consumption and creation of this content. i do not want to consume or create content that predators could use to groom minors, and i absolutely do want to let younger people in fandom know that i am respecting their comfort zones and want them to have a safe and fun experience. after all, naruto is not an adult show and i think a lot of people forget that!!!! i am not perfect in that regard but its something that i, at the age of 23, am very passionate about and strive towards to.

and i guess thats where same age au was born for me and i have been sticking to it ever since. 

so finally we can move to the first question 

aside from the fact that we both dont like canon sos, i dont think it would work out even if i wasnt prejudiced to it anyways. in all honesty, 35 year old canon sasori is not a redeemable character to me, given the fact that he’s easily amongst the cruelest villains in naruto (torturing and killing and taxiderming people for his own fun personal gain, never for a goal that served anyone but himself. how do you redeem having over 300 corpses in your backpack that you felt absolutely no remorse for killing). sasori was legit one of the only cruel villains that didnt had someone else pull the strings, which sends a clear message on kishi’s part, who absolutely loves to redeem villains LOL.

being that old, he obviously had already been very manifested in what he believed in, even if it was shakey, to the point where the first crack in that world view (sakura and chiyo protecting each other) immediately had him give up on his life all together. that, in my opinion, is not a man who’s going to know what healthy relationships would look like, regardless of it being romantic or not. 35 year old sasori to me has the same appeal as an expired can of tuna and he’s probably very happy 6 feet under. he’s supposed to be a failed gaara in that sense that he had no one to look out for him and therefore was never going to experience anything but a bad ending in life. its fine that hes dead honestly, it wraps up his short character development the best IMO.

adding to that, seriously, sakura was obviously interested in knowing why he was that way, and called him out for being seriously fucked in the head, but it’s weird to me that people assume she had any interest in actively rehabilitating him, let alone starting a serious romantic relationship with him. sakura who’s not only very, uhm, immature and straight forward when it comes to her romantic viewpoints also, as a big bootlicker, wouldnt soil her standing in the village by starting anything with a disgraced and far too gone criminal like sasori. shipping that version of sasori with sakura intimately is still going to set her up for a huge power imbalance that would be difficult to handle imo, even if she was the one in the fight ultimately exerting her power over him. i would still look at it and think damn she deserves better than having to play therapist for man like that lol.

additionally, even if you ignored all of this, you cant really ignore that sasori had already known her as a child, and that had been his first and most impactful impression of her. i dont think that sasori would look at 35 year old sakura and see her as a grown woman and not the little green girl she was in the fight. plus, you easily fall into predatory comparison territory between the “childish” and “womanly” and i have seen way too often in fic just being boiled down to her now being fuckable. a lot of of ships do this and i would just like to remind yall thats it not normal for adults to want to start relationships with children they have seen grown up or known as a child when they themselves were fully grown adults. therefore, maybe if sakura hadnt met sasori before it would be less of a problem? but that also obviously defeats the point of the dynamic and the reason he died in the first place. so yeah, it sounds kind of doomed especially if you were to make it romantic. 

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THE SECOND QUESTION

let me preface this that im not fundamentally against age gaps, even if im not super interested in it. after all, colorblind had a 5 yr age gap (with sakura being 21), even if, say, i wrote similar fics today i probably would make it smaller lol. i think it can be handled well if both parties have enough life experience to deal with it, and the author is cautious of where the age gap starts, i think a 10+ year age gap would be fine in a scenario where the younger party (i guess sakura) was at least 25-27ish, meaning she has completed most of her most formative life stages and probably had been in relationships before, meaning she would be able to handle it without having to fear a huge power imbalance. the older the younger party is the less the age gap is going to matter tbh .TsukiHoshino and AngelOfDeath10 both handle age gaps in their fics really well imo, so i do not mind reading about them.

unfortunately, a lot of people in this fandom think making sakura barely "”””legal””””” (18, not even 20 which is hilarious to me because the source material is obviously japanese) because they both cannot stand her being past her “prime years” of being young fertile and fuckable to much older men as well as thinking a 20 year old is automatically old enough to handle that type of relationship. ive seen a lot of unironic takes that believe it will absolve them of callout posts if they throw around age of consent and “shes 18 now suckers!!!” enough lmfao. absolutely hilarious. aging a minor up without aging the adult down seriously reeks of predatory “cant wait until youre 18″ narratives and thats why i find it similarly disturbing as straight up pedo shipping.

ultimately, sasosaku is and will always be a inherently problematic ship in canon, which is why i think it should always be handled a little more responsibly in fandom spaces, ignoring or outright excusing the main problem factor, which is sasori, isnt going to convince anyone that the dynamic in itself is well written and interesting enough to explore in aus, like giving sasori the redemption most of us wanted him to have by aging him down to a point in time where he was still realistically going to allow being positively influenced, similar to gaara. 

so really, what i think is well handled age gap and how most people handle age gap in the naruto fandom are two different worlds at times lol 

tl;dr

canon shippers have never been anything but gross when i was younger and i didnt wanna be like that, even if youre “smart”enough to differenate, actual creeps dont really care and might use your content to blur the lines, sasori isnt rly redeemable so romantic canonverse realistically wouldnt make much sense and is still iffy, age gaps are fine if they are handled well, but given that the dynamic doesnt really need the age gap to still work im not that invested on making that an essential part of my shipping experience.  

thank you for reading and hope this makes sense!