#no but genuinely learning how and when to say shit like this to keep oneself sane and entertained

[the-official-account]

Crimson: I'm not a seasoned podcaster like you all are Ila: I would argue that maybe only one of us is a seasoned podcaster Essay: Ironically it's one of the two white people [a pause of ten entire seconds, Crimson is heard wheezing]

[edai-crplpnk]

hey! just wanted to say an extra thank you for the naruto stuff you've written. I apologize in advance for some of the wording here because uh. language stuff.

tbh, lots of the things you write I cannot stomach to casually read without extra mental preparation because it handles so many things that hit so close to the home that I genuinely reread every sentence over and over again, and it's like going through my own thoughts and memories and uncertainties every time I read your works. but like, you describe everything so fucking well. it's like you get deep into my brain and dig out everything that I couldn't have possibly put into words, but yet there they are, I'm reading it, you wrote that stuff, I'm... in awe. I just wanted to say thank you for your writing. many of your interpretations of nart characters is so close to me that I relate to them sm, not even just psychological shit but like. war bullshit and the way you seem to understand it and the like, I'm genuinely so amazed to read my own thoughts laid out so well written by someone I don't know?? you are amazing, keep doing what you're doing, and thank you once more. I'm rooting for you!!

Thank you for your message, it means a lot 💓

I know for me it's really not always easy to be sure when I read "sensitive" fiction if it's like "this is challenging but also it's doing me some good and it's nice feeling less alone and putting words on stuff even if it can feel intense and painful at times" or more "reading this is self-harm I'm triggering myself on purpose for a bad reason". It's way easier now but definitely it's been an issue for me when I first started reading fanfiction, so I'm glad to hear you try and find the good mindset to read my works (even if I know it's far from a foolproof process). It's work to figure out one's boundaries, and take care of oneself. Kudos to you for tackling it!

Writing for me is a lot like what you say, I think. It's an exercise of taking an instinctive feeling and breaking it down and dissecting it until I feel like I understand how the mechanics inside work and maybe I can explain it. A lot of my writing process is telling my boyfriend "I don't know how to make the character do this/how this character feels about this/if this character would do this or rather that" and then talking to myself for 3k words and ending by "oh I guess I do get it now" haha.

There's a piece from Pierre Reverdy that I like a lot about what art is that goes "The artistic shock is of a different nature than the shock of ideas, which bring from the outside something that we didn't know and now learn, it is the revelation of something that we already had in us, and only lacked the words to tell it to ourselves."

I love when people say things like what you say here, because I think it's fundamentally what writing is to me. It's how writing makes me feel for myself, how it helps me process a lot of things often, and it's very precious when I get to know that it's what it feels for some others too.

Anyway, thank you again for your lovely message. We're in this together!

[noobsomeexagerjunk]

Always Shine and Redefine Our Humanity

How Eret Contributes to the Dream SMP's Narrative Themes of Change and Self-Discovery

I can’t believe listening to a song from a fairly obscure but growing musical (where I took this post’s title from) would prompt me to inspect Eret’s character more but here we are. I will heavily use @theeretblr's (whom you should subscribe to, btw) Character Explanation thread as a basis, as well as statements about their character from their most recent streams and things that I have gathered from other essays by people who clearly have been watching from the start.

This will include sentiments and theories I want for the character because I kinda got attached to them as of late. Please keep in mind that I have been watching since around Late November-Early December, so my biases would be appropriate to such a viewer.

This essay is a discussion of the roleplay character.

1. Eret is Self-Preserving & Versatile in Skill (and this is why they're powerful)

"Those who are given Power hold on to it."

Something I’ve observed concerning Eret’s Betrayal of L’Manburg was their motivations for doing so. For a time they have believed that power and security mattered. For a time their interests went first. CC!Eret referred to the choice as "an offer no one would refuse" as well. This wasn't just luxury and (they didn't know it at the time, but false) power, it was the protection they would be allowed to have by the admin of the server. It was being allowed to do whatever they wanted, despite the means to it being dishonorable and interestingly enough, demanding of permission.

Eret was willing to do anything to remain secure and equipped, and I argue that they still do until now. The difference is that now, they are more concerned about how they maintain their security in that they wouldn't hurt other people or be extremely unethical in the pursuit of this security.

Also, they're privy to grinding when it's necessary, they know how to build structure and contraption, and they can hold their own fairly well. They're very well-spoken and can deliver on appearances and ambiance, excellent at both comforting and intimidating whomever they choose. They had to have been this skilled for a while.

2. Eret has a Forgotten History (of bringing down powerful groups of people, apparently)

"Those who don't know History are doomed to repeat it."

So remember that interaction with Foolish? I want to bring this up because I feel that having particularly close ties with a God of Undying/Death has implications.

Foolish also brings up "taking care of [a] Wither cult"—an organized group! Wasn't Eret known for taking down an organized group on the server? L'Manburg, at its founding. He was part of the rebellion against Manburg. He was against the Eggpire. Yep, that's a pattern.

What does this mean? Well:

Eret's hands were never clean from the start, clearly before the Final Control room, and it can be inferred that they're redder than they seem

Eret's tendencies towards self-preservation may have been influenced/learned from Foolish

Eret may have had (if they still don't do) an inclination to pursue power through the dismantling of organized groups that also seek/already have established power

Eret's current skills are the way they are due to his past

And we cannot forget the CC confirmation that c!Eret has relations with Herobrine, the infamous Minecraft urban legend known for the horror he brings and how many lovers of Minecraft frame him as this terrifying powerhouse entity beyond human comprehension. This relation is still a mystery, but from what we know, it can tell us a lot about what Eret has forgotten about himself and what Eret is capable of!

3. Eret is Concerned by What People (though only those that matter to him) Think of Her

"I think Respect is a big thing."

In light of her power, we have to remember that Eret regretted pursuing power upon recognizing the loss of respect and friendship that came with the throne. This becomes a much stronger detriment when she realizes that the power she thought she had never actually existed in the first place—one can say she would dread pursuing power for herself again. To subject oneself to the standards of others after all is to subject yourself under constant scrutiny.

In her regrets, she learns and realizes what she wants—to be loved and cared for, to be truly alive with her loved ones. It's why she decides to improve herself, and she works and makes the effort to try! She struggled (and still does) in the process of pursuing forgiveness, illustrating that her determination towards an end is very strong, gradual as it may be.

It's how she looks up to Wilbur! Still! I reckon the two believe they're responsible for the other. Change! What an incredible thing the two are able to do.

4. Eret Knows What He Wants (but is struggling to figure out how to get it)

"That was a long time ago. I've changed things and I know not to break people's trust anymore."

One of Eret’s biggest concerns right now in Season 3 is his relationship with the Crown, mixed and fickle it seems based on his streams during this time. His kingship carries more and more weight each passing day, debating whether forgoing the effort and spilled blood Eret had to get the Crown is worth it. (I mean, he accepted the restoration of his Kingship when George got dethroned.)

The Kingship is still power, and it's become true power after Dream had been put in prison. We know he's admitted being deathly afraid of Dream, so this period of genuine Kingship would be incredibly special to him. Ever since he's been finding ways to make his kingship genuinely meaningful, redefining the evils the Crown used to have by doing good to whomever sincerely, freely, and willingly. He's attempted allyhood with like-minded individuals based on his judgment of their character. Remember his Knights? These consisted of HBomb, Puffy, and Punz, each of which exhibited behaviors (predilection for community, dedication to duty, moral neutrality) he has as well!

But yet, the blood spilled for that Crown still stains him, and it cannot be denied that it will continue to do so for as long as Eret wears the crown. I wonder if he believes this, whether a part of him does deep down. Dream being in jail doesn't just mean freedom to be a king but freedom to quite literally be yourself, whatever it may be.

5. For these reasons, Eret Represents Constant Self-Actualization and Rediscovery

"I'm a strong, independent...whatever the fuck I am."

Given the points established above, Eret is unfamiliar with her full self and wants to shape herself into someone desirable and genuinely contributing kindness to a clearly broken world, a world whose brokenness she also happened to contribute to.

Her enthusiasm for History and the pursuit of enlightenment speaks volumes to this motivation. It's her repeated, dedicated efforts to try and try and try and try, to be better! Not just to be a better person herself but for everyone else to be able to be better too! She's aware that perfection is impossible, but clearly recognizes that constant reevaluation of the self is nonetheless necessary.

It's how she's open to engaging with as many people as possible despite differing opinions and carried baggage. She researches and explores and examines! She does no harm but takes no shit.

Every facet of her, to the terror her eyes have been known to give, to the air of affirmation radiating in her domain of a Pride castle, to the blood that decorates her fingers, to the people she has given support to, to the people she has disadvantaged, to the History she keeps, to the part of herself she no longer remembers, to the power she carries—Eret knows how to be truly alive.

[spidercakes]

Starker high school AU featuring fem!Omega!Tony and alpha!Peter where Tony is well known for being a real bitch to anyone who tries to court him. Peter knows better than to think he hates getting gifts.

Warning for references to domestic violence (Howard).

*

Peter watches Tony from across the hall trying mostly unsuccessfully to shove his stuff into his locker. He’s already in a bad mood that much is clear but when Justin Hammer walks up looking far too confident his mood appears to take a nosedive for the worst. He watches Tony turn away from trying to stuff his leather jacket into his locker to Hammer, aggression clear in his features but that doesn’t seem to deter Hammer any. Bad sign, Tony hates that but Peter leaves him to it because its almost funny to watch Tony tear his suitors to shreds and he’s mean when he gets going. Or at least it would be funny if people didn’t keep disrespecting Tony’s very clear and well known boundaries and if Tony didn’t sometimes go a little far in his vicious takedowns.

But he doesn’t really like Justin Hammer that much and neither does Tony, he’s not shy about saying it. So when he holds out a box Peter knows he’s about to go ape on this guy. MJ walks up beside him and shakes her head, “one, stop fantasizing about being the only one to tame that beast. He’s a privileged brat, get better taste. Two, privileged brat or not he’s preferable to Hammer so I want to see this,” she says, looking satisfied as Tony glares Hammer down.

“He’s not a brat,” Peter tells her, “he just doesn’t like jewelry and no one seems to get the point.” Or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what that is anyway but its hard to tell because omegas almost never get stuff that isn’t jewelry. Peter doesn’t get why that is when he’s never actually seen an omega wear any of it. Mostly they range from irate like Tony about it to mildly uncomfortable and unsure what to do with expensive things they don’t want like Liz. Either way Peter thinks its about time someone actually paid attention to what their crushes like and give them something that’s not stupid expensive that they might actually like. But that’s probably the fact that he’s too poor to do much more than get small things talking even if Liz agrees.

“Turn the fuck around right now,” Tony tells Hammer. MJ raises an eyebrow at him but they both agree that unwanted attention should earn a person a smack so Tony is actually being really polite right now according to those standards.

“I got you-” Hammer starts but Tony cuts him off.

“You could have Nicolas II the last Czar of Russia in that box and I couldn’t give two shits. Turn around and walk away,” Tony says.

Peter doesn’t mean to let out a sharp peel of laughter but its funny, okay? Tony turns to glare him down but softens slightly when he notices that Peter isn’t laughing at him specifically. He still turns away like he’s been stuck with a hot poker because Christ, Tony isn’t supposed to see him watching. “He’s not staring anymore,” MJ tells him helpfully so he risks looking back over.

Tony is unlucky enough to have Hammer’s gift all but shoved into his grasp and oh, Tony hates that too. Peter isn’t entirely surprised when Tony makes an offended noise and walks to the nearest trash can to chuck the box into it. “For ten fucking seconds I want some time to myself to stick my jacket in my locker and you fucks can’t even give me that!” he snaps as he storms off, unconcerned with the fact that his jacket is on the ground and his locker is wide open.

“Well that was a fun way to start the day,” MJ says. “Think we’ll get more entertainment by lunch?” Given the way people seem to lust after Tony Peter wouldn’t really be surprised.

*

Rhodey is used to people asking him about Tony, it happens all the time and he’d never say anything. Or at least he’d never say anything to anyone Tony didn’t already approve of so he’s gotten a reputation for being as difficult and bullheaded as Tony. Neither of them have high standards so its pretty sad that people consistently fail them but it is what it is. So when a lanky looking alpha walks up to him at least having the sense to look nervous Rhodey isn’t surprised. He’s not the usual type, that goes to whoever is overconfident enough to think they’ll actually get something from Tony and this guy does not look the type if his blush is any indication.

“Um, hey. I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker, yeah, um. God, this is bad I’m so glad Tony doesn’t have to- here,” he says, handing Rhodey a small box. “Tell him its not jewelry.” He turns to walk away looking pretty harassed but Rhodey is curious.

“Why’d you give it to me?” he asks before Parker can run off anywhere.

He doesn’t look impressed about it but he does turn to give Rhodey his attention. “Tony doesn’t like being handed stuff, but he seems to take stuff from you and Pepper. You seemed less scary than Pepper but I think maybe I was wrong and both of you are terrifying.”

He doesn’t mean to laugh a little but its kind of funny and he gave an answer Rhodey likes. “If he doesn’t want it I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” he tells Peter.

Peter nods and walks away with a soft ‘thanks’ and Rhodey decides he likes that too but he won’t tell Tony about it unless he likes the gift. Not that he would have even got it if he didn’t like Peter anyway, he knows Tony well enough to know when he won’t like someone and he’d probably appreciate the help weeding them out. He doesn’t even know why people try at this point, not when Tony is so damn nasty about his day being disrupted. He doesn’t know about anyone else but if he watched a guy toss a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because he didn’t like it he’d probably think that guy was an asshole and avoid him forever.

He knows better than to think Tony is the asshole here, but without context he’s go to wonder what the hell everyone else is thinking. Its not like they all know Tony is as rich as he is when he doesn’t hint at it, and they don’t know that he hates jewelry because his asshole of a father used to give his mother something sparkly after he beat her, and they definitely don’t have any boundaries, but he still wants to know what goes through their mind. He wants to know what it feels like to be so confident he thinks he can win over an omega who actively hates jewelry with jewelry. It must be some kind of adrenaline rush mixed with a Darwin Award and he wants to know.

The fact that its so common is so weird to him too, its like no one here has basic observation skills. Sometimes he pretends like he’s an anthropologist trying to figure out how the students in this school work because their behavior is so counterintuitive. Other times he texts Pepper so they can privately roast whoever Tony harshly turned down now.

By the time he gets to lunch Tony reports three more people- and there seem to be unlimited people at this school Rhodey swears- who have tried to give him gifts. None of them anything but jewelry and Rhodey can do with a little key change to his day so he pulls out that Peter Parker kid’s box. “Here,” he tells Tony, who frowns at it for a second before looking kind of hurt. It takes a second for Rhodey to catch on and when he does he wrinkles his nose, “look man, if I wanted to court you I would have and I don’t. I just can’t look at you the same way after that time I witnessed you triple yourself,” he says. “Its from some kid named Peter Parker and he says its not jewelry so I figured it was promising.”

“Do I even want to know what tripling oneself is?” Pepper asks, coming up behind Rhodey and sitting beside him.

“Shit, piss, and puke in sync,” Rhodey and Tony say together, both sounding dismayed and a little disgusted. The look on Pepper’s face tells him he should be ashamed that this is information he has.

“I can’t believe I associate with you two,” she mumbles, shaking her head at least until she spots the box sitting in front of Tony. “What’s that?” she asks.

Tony shrugs, “don’t know but he survived Rhodey so I assume he doesn’t suck.”

“As long as its not another Sunset,” Pepper says, shaking her head.

It earns a small sigh out of Tony and he picks up the box, probably looking for a subject change. He looks exhausted with it already so that’s how Rhodey knows his reaction is genuine. He pulls a scrap of paper from the box and snorts before he starts laughing, cracking up the the point of doubling over and Rhodey would like to know what’s on that paper.

Pepper has the same idea because she snatches it. “Nicholas II the last Czar of Russia?” she reads, clearly confused.

Tony is already distracted by something else in the box because he’s staring at it with a smile on his face. Rhodey beats Pepper to snatching it this time and he smiles when he reads the pin too. “That’s cute,” he says, handing it to Pepper.

“Ah! the element of surprise. I don’t get the Czar thing but Tony clearly did so that and this pin make for a clever combination,” she says. “So you know this one has brains. Just make sure he’s not the type who thinks being clever every once and awhile is a replacement for a personality.”

“Ew, don’t ruin the only good gift I’ve ever gotten,” Tony tells her, taking his pin and scrap of paper back. “The Czar thing was me insulting Hammer. God, can you guys believe he tried to give me anything? I’d rather stick my dick in a bee hive.”

Rhodey and Pepper exchange a look because there might be something here and Rhodey, for one, wants to figure out what it is.

*

Tony finds Peter after school and quickly learns that he’s jumpy when he all but tosses himself nearly into his locker because Tony spooked him by accident. “You’re interesting, I don’t think I’ve met you before,” he says. He’s certain he hasn’t actually and Peter’s cute, in a boyish way. And he already knows he’s not a dunce so there’s that too.

“I um, you have actually. We’ve had like three science classes and two math classes together but I um, usually sit at the back so.”

Yeah, bad excuse because that’s where he sits too but that’s sweet of him to try and give Tony a reason for not noticing his existence. “Okay, so maybe I can be a little self absorbed. Cute gift though, the element of surprise thing was kind of clever.”

It seems to take Peter a few seconds to catch on to his own joke and that’s... weird. “Oh my god, its like I’m the element of surprise! Yeah, okay, I didn’t even think of that I just thought it was kind of cute and sarcastic and you like science so...” he trails off, wincing.

Its adorable and also telling. So he did put thought into it, just not the way Tony thought and that’s actually better for him. “Think you can come up with another gift by tomorrow?” he asks in maybe a little too cocky a tone. And then he kind of thinks of the implications and winces, “I um, I don’t really want stuff I just want to know that you like, give a shit about who I am. And uh, yikes, that wasn’t an improvement. You can just forget this ever happened,” he says, for some reason feeling the need to finger gun his way out of this, passing Peter quickly as he scrambles the hell out of there.

*

Peter doesn’t really know if Tony likes vinyl but he definitely likes AD/DC so he leaves it in front of his locker and figures Tony will make up his mind. In the meantime he finds Liz so he can focus on something that isn’t losing his mind or passing out. “If you were a sandwich what would you be?” she asks as he walks up. Ned looks mad beside her and that’s weird because Ned never gets mad.

“I don’t know, a BLT I guess,” he says.

Liz throws her hands up, “the only correct answer is a grilled cheese, why do you guys like in anarchy?”

“Meatball sub!” Ned says, staking his claim but Peter frowns.

“Ned, a sub isn’t a sandwich yours doesn’t even qualify.”

Ned looks offended about this, “Peter, its meat in bread. That’s the exact same as a sandwich, just because the bread is shaped different doesn’t mean its not a sandwich.”

MJ chooses then to walk over so Peter pounces on it, “is a sub a sandwich, MJ?”

She squints at him like he’s stupid, “no. Why is this even a question.”

“Liz lives in denial that if we were sandwiches the best option is meatball sub,” Ned explains.

That gets him another ‘what the fuck’ look. “First of all I maintain that a sub is not a sandwich and obviously the only right answer is grilled cheese.”

Peter frowns, “why does grilled cheese count as a sandwich?”

“It has ‘sandwich’ in the name Peter- a grilled cheese sandwich,” Liz points out.

“What was his answer?” MJ asks.

“BLT,” Peter in Ned say in sync.

“Savage,” MJ accuses and frowns for a moment, leaning around him. “Oh, and he’s about to get his penance, we should probably check ourselves before we wreck ourselves,” she says, nodding at something behind Peter. He turns to find Tony walking towards him with the record he left at his locker and winces because he doesn’t want to like... get smacked with it or something equally unpleasant.

When he turns back to his friend group he finds that they’ve all abandoned him like cowards but in their defense he wishes he could abandon himself like a coward too. But unfortunately he’s him so he can’t. “Um, hey,” he says once Tony is in ear shot.

Tony grins, “AC/DC!” he says excitedly.

“Oh, yeah. You like them, and like... most eighties rock but a lot of sixties and seventies stuff too. Why are you looking at me like that, you wear a lot of band shirts,” Peter says. Like a lot of them, but enough of them are AC/DC shirts that Peter assumes he has a preference.

“Oh, right. Yeah, I guess I do. Sorry, I’m just not used to people noticing really obvious stuff about me- I, you know what. Uh, thanks,” Tony says, scattering before Peter can say anything. From across the hall he has no less than six people staring at him in shock and Peter frowns.

“What? It wasn’t hard to find something he liked.” Which is true, but he’s at least somewhat benefitted by the fact that his competition seems to think trying the same thing over and over again despite atrocious results will work.

“I gave him like, twelve things!” the one guy says and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Ten bucks says it was all jewelry,” he mumbles to himself and walks away. He doesn’t get why people keep trying to throw shiny things at Tony when he obviously doesn’t like it.

*

When Tony finds the box he doesn’t expect much mostly because good things don’t seem to last where he’s concerned, so he’s pleasantly surprised by its contents. “That is the ugliest scarf I have ever seen,” some alpha a couple lockers down from him says, giving the scarf a distasteful look.

Tony doesn’t remember anything about her except that he can’t stand her. “Then you clearly don’t get the reference,” he snaps, putting the scarf in his locker before he goes to class.

Rhodey raises an eyebrow at him as he walks up but he says nothing as he sits down. “What, no rant about gifts today?”

He shakes his head, “no. People seem to be picking up on the fact that Peter is doing a better job than any of them. Today I got Four’s scarf.”

“Nice,” Rhodey says, grinning and giving a nod of approval. “Now that you have a not shit suitor I feel like I can finally say that I cannot believe you threw a twelve thousand dollar necklace in a pond because you didn’t like it. You could have pawned it,” he points out.

“And get money I don’t need? Let someone else find it and cash in and I thought you hated Killian anyway.” Rhodey had been the one to warn him off not that Tony needed a warning to stay away from Killian.

“Could have donated it to charity. And I don’t, which is why I laughed when you tossed it. But damn man, twelve grand. I can’t imagine having that much money to just throw aside for a courting gift.” He shakes his head but Tony is well aware there’s more to it than that. Its not like his being on the lower end of middle class is a secret, and Tony knows that Rhodey doesn’t really believe him when he says most omegas don’t actually want jewelry. Tony is pretty sure Rhodey thinks that’s a bias on his part and it is, but only because he has an active reason to dislike jewelry, not because omegas secretly do want jewelry.

But the pressure is there and Tony knows Rhodey has avoided dating because he can’t afford that kind of thing. He figures he’ll grow out of the pressure to perform courting in a certain way but that doesn’t make things suck less for him now.

“If Killian knew anything about me he would have donated it to charity himself. And even if I didn’t hate jewelry that thing was god awful, you can’t expect me to have liked that gaudy ass thing. It looked kind of like this hideous necklace my great grandmother snuck out of Italy when she fled fascism during World War Two.”

Rhodey snorts and cracks up, shaking his head. “Okay, I will give you that it was very ugly but it was also stupid expensive.”

“I didn’t know that before it was tossed and yes, I could tell that it cost money because I know what good jewelry looks like but also I wouldn’t have paid more than ten bucks for something that hideous. Someone designed it that way on purpose and they should be fired for their sins.” And that’s before he even gets into the mess that Killian is specifically. Rude, entitled, arrogant, a mean streak a mile wide, and a total inability to not go into full meltdown mode when he’s told ‘no.’ Tony learned his lesson when he was a freshman and Killian decided to hit on him with an uncomfortable amount of aggression and then got mad when Tony agreed to meet him elsewhere to get him the hell out of his face only to not show up.

Needless to say the ensuing meltdown led to somehow deciding to win Tony back, not that he ever had him to begin with, with jewelry. It’d been the first time he’d ever been given anything and the situation resembled the cycle he’s watched his parents go through a million times so closely that he kind of lost it a little. Admittedly it wasn’t the nicest thing in the world to throw the necklace in a pond and start shrieking but he also feels like, at least in context, the reaction wasn’t totally irrational. Just mostly.

“So Four’s scarf,” Rhodey says, transitioning away from Killian thankfully. “Not a bad choice, even if you prefer Ten.”

“What are you two on about?” Pepper asks, arriving to the conversation late.

“Doctor Who,” Tony says and fills her in on the rest. She also gives a nod of approval and its almost harder to impress her than Rhodey. Rhodey only wins out because he’s grown a protective streak for Tony and Pepper has it too, but she’s a lot less likely to go ham on someone at least publicly. Usually Rhodey is good at pretending not to be an impulsive moron but there’s something about Tonys presence that makes him lose a brain cell or two and do dumb shit like get suspended for punching Killian in the face. Twice.

*

Peter didn’t really think Tony would actually like any of the stuff he got, minus the record because he knows Tony likes the band, but it turns out he’s actually really good at this. Tony liked the other pin he got too mostly because ‘UM confusion’ on a pin is pretty much how he feels about this whole thing and he figured Tony felt similarly. And its cute and matches the other pin.

The last thing he expects is for Tony to put the pins on his jacket and wear the scarf he got him. What he expects less than that is the sheer amount of people asking him for advice on how to court Tony seems how his efforts are working. Which is why he finds himself on the top of a table in the cafeteria kind of annoyed that he even has to do this.

“Hey. Um. Hey!” he says a little louder, drawing more attention that time. “So um. You guys keep asking me for advice on how to court Tony but you guys like... really don’t need advice on that. You guys need advice on how to follow boundaries and not harass the shit out of people. And also really, really basic observation skills. Tony doesn’t like jewelry you idiots, how did you not realize that when he kept throwing stuff out? Are you guys stupid?” he asks, fully prepared to continue on this rant when he notices a teacher beelining their way over and he sighs. “Whatever, point is if you can’t figure out how to court the omega you’d like to maybe you should take that as a sign that you don’t like them, you like what they look like. Courting someone shouldn’t be so hard that no one but me I guess figured out that Tony hates jewelry. Didn’t think he’d have to write that one down for you guys considering he throws everything he gets out,” he says, throwing his arms up before he jumps down from the table only to nearly run into Tony.

He looks pleased with himself so at least there’s that. Peter mostly tries to avoid looking at his legs in that skirt because its rude even if he looks good. “Peter Parker I think I owe you a date,” he says, grinning.

Peter blinks, shocked. “Um. What?”

Tony smiles wider, “I said I owe you a date and seems how you’ve been doing all the work so far I’ll handle it.”

“That’d be great, thanks,” he says. “I’m not great at this.”

Behind Tony Rhodey snorts, “you were better at it than the whole school and don’t have a problem with Tony taking the lead to boot. He’s probably gunna marry you.”

[johns-prince]

Do you think John loved Paul more than Paul loved him? Or at least, that he was more infatuated with him?

Oh absolutely not.

Just because John was much more open(whether he wanted to be or not) about his feelings, emotions, doesn't mean John loved Paul more than Paul loved him. There are many, many examples that highlight and show the love that Paul had for John.

Paul is the one who straight up called he and John soulmates. Soulmates. If you didn't love someone, if you weren't just as much in love with them as they were you, then why would you pick the word soulmate to describe what you are to each other, your relationship?

In my, humble opinion, Paul was, and still is, the only one who showed and gave John unconditional, boundless love and forgiveness. Could maybe be argued Mimi did, or perhaps Cynthia, but I believe it's just fact when talking about Paul.

After all the shit John pulled, after all the bullshit he said about Paul out of anger and hurt impulse-- Paul still loved him, adored him. I don't know many people who would have put up with John's crap like Paul did. John was looking for an ugly fight, and Paul refused to give it to him. Instead, Paul gave him Dear Friend, where the mad lad literally sings, "I'm in love with a friend of mine." I think even John was amazed that, even after burning it all down, Paul was still there, and wanted to still be there, besides John. Unconditional love, patience beyond belief, what seemed like the indefinite capability to forgive-- Paul gave John all that, and continues to even today (I think it scared John a bit, because he wasn't used to that, he was used to, or moreso expected people to just abandon him, leave him, voluntarily or involuntarily. Which often led to John basically testing them, see how far he could push, and believing he didn't really deserve anything good and expecting it to sour so he'd often self sabotage... But that's a whole other can of worms)

Linda said so herself that Paul was desperate to write with John again. She knew, at least to some degree, just how important John was to Paul, and that Paul loved him deeply.

Let's even go back during the Beatles-- whenever asked what he would do after the Beatles, it was he and John would continue working together. It was always John and Paul. Paul believed it, and wanted to continue making music with John, up to their old age even. They both rather talked about it like fact-- it'd be the two of them staying together after The Beatles, keep making music, writing songs and giving them to younger musicians to sing.

Now if you haven't noticed, Paul has a fucking ball talking about his and John's relationship, reminiscing, when feeling comfortable, safe, and free enough to do so. You can just hear how much he loved, loves John when he talks about him, them. It reminds me of how someone, a widow even, might talk about their spouse whom they love and adore dearly still.

Hell, Paul reacted to John's death like a person learning that their spouse, the love of their life, had died.

He locked himself in his studio, fucking blasting Just Like Starting Over, for days, maybe weeks, even. Paul refused to acknowledge John was dead, permanently gone from this world. He genuinely wouldn't allow himself to believe it for like a month or two after. Then had a bit of a breakdown in a studio when it finally hit him-- John was truly gone. It surprised the person who was working with him at the time, because he'd realized Paul just seemed to realize it, accept it-- they really didn't know what to say. Paul recalls watching the news about it, seeing John's killer and yelling-crying at the TV that Mark Chapman was the biggest jerk of all time. A couple of Linda's friends felt uncomfortable and found it sort of off putting that Paul talked about John, a lot, brought John up, a lot-- and would talk about John in the present tense(he still slips up at times and does this), as if he'd just talked to him or seen him recently. Paul, twice, had claimed John's spirit or what have you, was around, during an interview and during a photoshoot and get together with George and Ringo. He's said that he dreams about John a lot, and that they're always good dreams. Paul admitted that when he's stuck in writing a song, working on it, he'll basically have "jam sessions" with John by imagining John to be there with him, helping him, telling him if something might be shit or was good. He'll defend John without shame, like he always would, because those people weren't there, and don't know, or truly understand John as deeply intimately as Paul did, does.

I believe they were both obsessed with each other, jealous and possessive over each other, needed each other like mad, and loved each other so much, it was overwhelming, terrifying at times even.

If you want to get as close to the truth about John and Paul's feelings for each other, just look at their music-- as the Beatles, and solos. That was the best way they knew how to communicate and reveal themselves because it wasn't as direct and so there really wasn't any inherent fear to embarrass oneself. It was safe. And in their music, is their love, ingenious talent, and legendary partnership.

You want a legendary love and partnership? Look no further then Lennon and McCartney.

You want to know what real soulmates look like? John Lennon and Paul McCartney are the real deal son.

[sirsharp-a]

ALEENA. ❜  ( 3 )

Summary:  Owing a favour on this side of town is never a good thing. Warnings:  N/A, just a bit of fun/fluff. Part:  1  |  2  |  3 |

    “So this is what the famous Aces do in their free time?”

    “Hell yeah,”   Fayze replied, swinging the plastic gun back into its slot.  The  YOU SURVIVED  screen lingered for a few seconds before flitting back to a simple demand for credits.   “Gotta decompress somehow, right?  How better than to kick the shit outta some zombies?”

    “We prefer to play games together,”   Seb chimed in, eyes drawn to the latest addition to their troupe.  He couldn’t say he minded having such a pretty girl following them around.  She came across as somebody he could get along with, tough to truly please but ultimately content to go with the flow.  People who wanted for too much only annoyed him.   “Better not to incite any sort of competition between two collaborative musicians, right?”

    “Right,”   Fayze agreed, slinging an arm around his bandmate’s shoulders.   “No need to keep scores between friends.”

    The first thing immediately noticeable about them, aside from their lavish house and their material wealth, was just how close they were.  Though she’d only been in their lives for a grand total of an hour or so, she could see that their bond went beyond playing music on stage.  They did everything together, as if they were two halves of the same vessel, and they did very little to foster resentment between one another.  Any opportunity for envy or bitterness to arise seemed to be quickly quelled by two young men that had nothing to rely on but each other.  That much, at least, she could respect.

    There are too many fake people in this district.  Too many relationships that aren’t real.  They sell you happiness through a screen, and when you can’t live up to it you wonder what’s wrong with you.  Why you can’t be happy like the people in the movies.

    “What sorta games do you like?”

    “Huh?”   It felt as if the world had slammed into her, distracted mind dragged forcibly back to the present.  For a moment, she felt strangely out of her element, the 8-bit trills and the automated voices accompanying overpriced video games phasing into one monotonous ringing sound.  The jazzy carpet multiplied, neon lights bleaching her skin varying shades of baby pink and blue.  Eventually:   “Uh…  I like the dance machines.”

    “Oh shit.”     “Hold up.”

    Both boys stared at her for a few seconds before Fayze exploded into a giddy series of bounces.  He remained in place, like somebody playing with a pogo-stick, but his excitement was evident--  infectious, even, for Seb soon began to smile.

    “We’re SICK at those!  C’mon, c’mon, we should play a few rounds.”     “Oh, I don’t know…”     “Oh come on!  It’ll be fun.  Plus, you get to see Seb jerk it out to Waka Laka.”     “If you choose that song, I’m out.”

    Before either of them could protest further, Fayze looped an arm with one theirs and dragged them towards the machine.  They were largely unoccupied, people gravitating towards casino machines and shooting games instead.  That suited their purposes just fine.  If nothing else, they wouldn’t have to come off of them until they ran out of credits--  or until they grew tired of it.

    Fayze fed the slot some coins, watching as the screen lit up.  A catchy theme song began to play as a list of playable tracks was displayed, ready for their seasoned perusal.  His arm swept outwards, back bent in the form of an overdramatic bow.   “The floor is yours, Aleena.”

    “W-Wait, I thought…”     “Show me what you can do!”

    Part of her wanted to refuse.  The last thing she needed to do was make a mistake in front of two people that she idolised, but if she couldn’t afford to laugh at herself…  hell, they’d probably dislike her more.  Nobody liked a stick in the mud--  not even if said stick was pretty, or witty, or a prescribed girlfriend. 

    Trying to muster up confidence, Aleena allowed herself to smirk, stepping up onto the panel.   “Fine.  But I’m picking my own tune.”

    There was an obvious hesitation marking the start of her routine, the sort of bashfulness that could only be brought on by a distinct need to not embarrass oneself.  However, by the time the first round was through with, she’d largely forgotten about her prestigious audience, her attention wholly ensnared by the rhythm.  By the time her conclusive score came up on screen, she was basking in the golden light of an impressive 93% accuracy.

    “DAMN!  You’re good,”   offered Seb, genuinely a little surprised.  Most people didn’t get those sorts of scores if they were casual players ( which in and of itself was fine too, not everybody had copious amounts of free time to blow on video games ).  It made him wonder about her history with the game.   “But it’s our turn now.”

    “Waka Laka, Waka Laka, Waka Laka--”     “We’re playing Chrome Vox first, man.”

     Aleena supposed that the least surprising thing about this entire ordeal was the fact that two electronically-based musicians from Vidé were fans of clubstep music.

    “Holy shit!”   she exclaimed as she watched the arrows begin to fall.  Trapped in her thoughts, she hadn’t paid attention to the settings they’d chosen, stunned to see a flurry of directional cues flying past at record speed.  What was more surprising was the streak of constant ‘perfect!’s.  It certainly suited the chaotic nature of the track, but by God was she going dizzy just watching it.  How could they even begin to focus on such blinding movement?

    They moved largely in sync, legs resembling a hurricane when combined.  Their time learning choreography for a life in the spotlight shone through the further into the song they got.  When the notes slowed a little, a build-up to what would no doubt be the ‘drop’ of the song, Aleena yelled out an enthusiastic:   “You guys are killing it!  How do you still have a combo?!”

    “Just wait!”   Fayze called back, voice filling lulls in the rhythm.   “The track goes apeshit in ten!”

    ‘Apeshit’ was an understatement.  She watched with a stupefied fascination, enraptured by the speed at which they could move their feet without falling over.  They even added a couple of extra movements every now and then;  little spins and turns, flourishes that only added to their conjoined performance.  For a moment, she wondered if they shared a brain.  Their coordination would stun even the best of players, she thought to herself.  It’s one thing to be good at it on your own but to have two people in perfect tandem like that?  That’s something else.

    When the chimed  “Perfect!”  left the machine, she watched both men turn around and high-five, panting lightly.

    “Remind me to never go up against either of you,”   Aleena said, a hand tracing one of the railings now that they were both stood upright.   “At least on these.  On a shooting game… eh, I could probably kick your asses.”

    She watched as Seb glanced at Fayze, their eyes meeting in a momentary flash of pride, only to settle back on her a moment later.

    “That a bet, baby?”

    With their lack of competition between one another, she’d failed to see just how confident Fayze could be when he was challenged within his element--  at least when he was kidding around.  She found herself grinning, the tips of her pointed ears twitching somewhat.

     This is nice.      This is making me forget just how fucked up this whole thing is.      This makes me feel like we’ve been friends for a long time.      This makes me feel comfortable.

    “Hah.  If you want it to be, superstar.”

[spkmth]

SOME BANAL KBNZ HEADCANONS.

HOW THEY MET, BECAME FRIENDS, AND FELL IN LOVE.

•   they met as children,  during a battle in the wild area ;   piers saved raihan from some camp interlopers one evening,  and raihan’s enthusiastic gratitude,  while grating,  meant that he immediately endeared himself to piers.     they never had the chance to become rivals,  as piers’ journey got cut short when he had to become marnie’s full-time caregiver ;   but he never fell out of touch with raihan,  and they texted one another at least once a week.     when raihan left for the isle of armor,  and then for university in kalos right after,  their messages passed less and less frequently ... and when raihan returned nearly a year later,  a fully-fledged dynamax master and certified dragonkeeper,  piers could scarcely recognize him.

•   the attraction was immediate,  but it took a long while for love to grow.     as a man both in the closet and in the spotlight,  raihan couldn’t deny his physical and mental attraction to piers,  but had to stuff his feelings to save face in front of his family and his adoring fans  ( and initially out of fear that piers wouldn’t feel the same ).     for his part,  piers made his intent apparent,  but not too apparent to jeopardize their long-time friendship ;   he’d had hundreds of one-night stands,  infamously never going back for encores,  but by the time he’d cajoled raihan into bed with him,  he realized that he was going to have to break his one-and-done rule.     they hooked up pretty regularly after that,  always in secret,  always in spikemuth for raihan’s peace of mind.

•   raihan admitted to having feelings first.     piers initially thought it was a joke or a slip of the tongue ;   he’d seen the way raihan looked at leon  ( spoiler: it was the same way he looked at raihan )  and figured that their hook-ups were just for fun.     but leon is untouchable,  and piers is warm and comforting and sweet beneath the tight leather and spikes and neon colors  ——  raihan reassures him that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,  not for all the pokégram clout in the world,  and that’s when piers realizes that  holy shit this is real.

•   yes,  they are in love.     no,  it isn’t a ruse,  a front,  or some scheme to make leon jealous.     no,  they aren’t just fucking because they’re two hot guys and people on the internet like that.

RELATIONSHIP QUIRKS.

•   yes,  raihan gets on piers’ nerves sometimes,  with his constant selfies and his exuberant,  loud personality.     piers gets on raihan’s,  too ;   his non-stop partying and continuous self-deprecation get under raihan’s skin.     but they love each other anyway  ——  no love is perfect,  and they acknowledge that they aren’t perfect people,  and they don’t expect to break the mold in this regard.

•   yes,  raihan is attracted to leon.     piers is attracted to leon too.     they have a standing agreement that if it ever came up,  leon is the only person they are allowed to have a threesome with,  or sleep with one-on-one.     but raihan likes leon on a personal level,  too,  whereas piers only sees him as  happy-go-lucky champion time guy.     indeed,  piers resents leon to some degree,  due to raihan’s fixation on him ;   its fine if raihan wants his body,  but only piers gets raihan’s heart.     piers is also genuinely suspicious of leon :   the guy’s too happy ... what has rose done to him? ( i hate when people make them a happy ot3 when piers has never been in the same room as the guy. do i think they have potential? of course. the internet exists solely for things like that. but GIVE ME CONFLICT DAMN IT. )

•   they never lie to one another.     the foundation of their relationship is  honesty.     raihan is expected to hold himself to a certain set of standards in his city and around his family,  and even on his pokégram ;   the only time he can let loose and be wild is on the pitch ... and with piers.     and of course,  for piers,  punk is about shunning social norms and truly being oneself,  and piers is the dictionary definition of a punk.     he’s genuinely never lied to raihan,  not as a child and not as a grown ass man ;   in fact,  sometimes his bluntness gets him into more trouble than a lie would.     but as a couple,  their honesty has always saved them and kept them together.

•   raihan has yet to introduce piers to his parents,  even as a friend.     they’ve seen piers on tv and have made it clear that they dislike his lifestyle.     it’s a good thing they don’t use pokégram,  or else they’d see piers’ face plastered all over raihan’s feed.     none of this bothers piers :   he won’t be introducing raihan to his parents anytime soon,  either,  because wyndon prison has strict visitation rules and piers couldn’t care less.     in fact,  the only familial validation he needs is marnie’s,  and she’s given it in spades.     marnie adores raihan,  and couldn’t imagine a better partner for her dumpster fire of a brother.

•   piers loathes the idea of marriage.     its a societal construct used to declare that a relationship is Supreme and those people are off the table,  when basic human dignity and respect should be enough for that.     unfortunately for him,  raihan is a sucker for marriage,  and has his mind set on it.     someday,  raihan.

•   raihan doesn’t like piers’ drug use,  and does his best to curb it,  but won’t ask him to stop altogether.     piers is happy living a short and explosive life,  and raihan wouldn’t change that ;   he simply keeps an eye out for him and is constantly brushing up on his cpr skills,  just in case.

•   raihan is incredibly educated,  and some would argue that he is far smarter than piers ;   as a man with full tertiary education,  as well as a certification in the most dangerous pokémon type and mastery of the dynamax phenomenon,  he could talk circles around piers if he wanted to.     but raihan knows that having an education doesn’t make one  smart ;   piers is street savvy,  much more so than raihan could hope to be,  and he knows his way around a dollar better than any professor raihan ever learned from.     and marnie is a perfectly well-educated and wonderfully socialized young lady,  mostly due to her brother’s efforts ... so anyone who makes insinuations about piers’ intelligence around raihan will always end up with a fist in their face.     for his part,  though,  piers enjoys listening to raihan prattle on about the function of a dragon’s scales,  or something else he learned in school ;   its something he’d wished he’d been able to do,  something that he hopes he gets a shot at in his next life.

•   despite being a bleeding heart who loves to spout shakespeare,  raihan struggles with physical intimacy,  sexually or otherwise.     piers is a surprisingly discerning and compassionate lover,  able to tell what his partner wants at a glance,  and completely capable of fulfilling those needs without having to be asked ;   its something that raihan envies.     he’s great at displays of affection,  and boy howdy can he explain it with words,  but he doubts he’ll ever be as intuitively gifted as piers.

•   piers has never written a song about raihan.     when asked why,  he’ll say that he simply can’t put the depth and scope of his feelings into words.     he wants to,  but every time he puts the pen to paper,  it tries to spit everything out at once,  leaving incomprehensible scribbles behind.     he doesn’t have words for the ache in his chest,  the shaking of his fingers,  the simultaneous thrill and fear of being vulnerable with someone who truly cares about him ... so he writes songs about fucking the system instead.

WHO IS BETTER THAN THE OTHER AT...

•   CARING FOR THE OTHER.     they spend equal amounts of time caring for one another ;   they’re both natural caregivers who love tending to others.     raihan is much more ready to admit when he needs to be taken care of than piers is,  as piers is used to doing everything on his own and struggles to ask for help ;   but raihan is tuned into piers’ nonverbal cues well enough that he silently steps up right when piers silently gives in.     piers,  for his part,  is happy to surrender to raihan as well ;   raihan has proven time and time again that he would never intentionally hurt him ... at least,  not without a safe word. ( the concept that piers is a uwu uke who needs to be taken care of bothers me because of his apparent willingness to relinquish control, something that canon piers has some pretty clear issues with doing. he strikes me as a man who needs to be needed,  and who enjoys being a caretaker even if he’ll never admit it. the vulnerability of letting raihan take care of him, when piers has cared for others his whole life, is what attracts me to this pairing, not a hot goth boy getting railed in the ass. it isn’t that he NEEDS to be taken care of; its that he WANTS to be taken care of, by raihan. that’s good shit. and also piers isn’t a goth. )

•   COOKING.     raihan is the better cook,  but piers makes a better cup of tea.     raihan is the whip-shit at making curry ;   its probably the one thing he’s beaten leon at.     for his part,  piers’ cups of tea are as legendary as his singing,  and he has his friends’ and family’s preferences memorized.

•   SINGING / MUSIC.     piers,  purely for his understanding of musical constructs and ability to read music.   raihan can’t read music to save his soul,  but he is great at learning by ear,  and has a wonderful grasp of pitch and tone.     piers has a wider range,  but raihan has a purer voice ;   years of chainsmoking has added a distinctive rasp to piers’ voice,  but that’s one of the things that makes him famous.     the first time the public got any inkling of their closeness was a spontaneous duet at a karaoke bar  ( and surprisingly,  they were sober ).

•   FUCKING.     piers,  no contest.     he’s talented and infamous for his exploits,  and if he hasn’t tried it,  he wants to.     raihan certainly isn’t wet behind the ears,  but sex isn’t his priority ;   he likes connecting with people on an individual level,  and then a physical level if they’re compatible.     piers has the higher libido of the two,  and this sometimes bothers raihan,  partly because he wishes he had a greater sex drive and partly because he wishes piers would stop and smell the roselia with him instead of constantly trying to get him out of his clothes.

WHO DOES WHAT MORE?

•   SMOKING / DRINKING.     piers smokes way more than raihan,  and raihan prefers hookah to cigarettes.     they’re both drinkers,  but skinny little piers can drink the dragon under the table.     however,  raihan is aces at concealing his level of drunkenness until he’s beyond the point of no return ;   piers is shit at hiding it.     drunk piers is baseline horny,  sometimes happy,  sometimes angry ;   raihan is the happy / sleepy kind of drunk.     raihan is picky and prefers mixed drinks,  and piers will drink anything that isn’t cheap beer.     raihan greatly prefers drinking at home,  as he’d seen piers get roofied at a pub once and it traumatized him.

•   STAYING UP LATE.     piers is the king of the night-noctowls.     raihan is lucky to make it to midnight.

•   CHECKING THEIR PHONE.     raihan.     always raihan.     piers’ poor rotom-phone has abandonment issues from how little it’s used.

•   TOPPING / BOTTOMING.     piers is 90% power bottom and 10% service top.     he loves getting fucked and telling his lover how he wants it,  but he’s also great at pleasing his partner no matter what they want from him,  and loves taking care of his partner and making them scream.     raihan is 70% service top, 15% power top,  and 15% genuine sub.     as nice as it is to flex his muscles and use his ungodly height to his advantage,  sometimes its nice to just be taken care of.     fortunately for raihan,  piers is great at understanding nonverbal cues,  and can easily tell what mindset raihan is in without having to ask.

[caffeinated-moonchild]

therapy [jeon jungkook]

writer: michiko

genre: angst, short story, fan fiction

synopsis: some things are only for oneself. some things are shared to friends, family, significant other, or even social media. but there are things that only the therapist knows.

character/s: jeon jungkook, original character [i]

TRIGGER WARNING: may contain mention of violence, profanity, mental health, self-harm

story:

There are things that no one else knows, things that are better off kept to oneself or locked away in the deepest and darkest part of ourselves. It sounds kind of selfish, almost as if I did not give a single fuck about anyone around me because sharing is supposed to be caring, but let us be honest for a while...none of you gives a shit about anyone, too.

But when you keep everything to yourself and not share it with anyone, chances are you would burst into flames and your enemies will dance on your ashes, not even taking time to scatter your remains at your favorite place. So the moral lesson of life is trust no one. 

Why have I grown to be such a heartless loser? It’s all because of a guy. 

How cliché. But isn’t life a compilation of clichés?  

“Let’s give him a name. Jeon. Let’s call him that. 

It wasn’t anything romantic or extraordinary like eyes meeting from opposite sides of the room or bumping into each other and me spilling coffee on his perfect white shirt. But it does involve coffee. 

There is this hidden gem of a coffee shop in Gangnam that holds these jam nights. It's really fun. It's not just music. There's a bit of slam poetry and every Friday the 13th, there's a speed dating.

Yes. That's where I met Jeon. 

I still remember his first question…"

I had yet to settle on the stool when the guy asked, "What's with the black lipstick?" His voice dripped of this tone that seemed like some kind of judgment, which I was ready to retort. But then my eyes saw the most gorgeous being to walk this fucked up planet. Maybe for me but that was the thing, I normally dislike everyone but there was something about him that gripped onto me so tight that I could not find a way to escape it. 

His dark brown eyes seemed too pierce through my soul, his button nose being the only adorable thing on such a handsome face, his red lips tugged up to a smirk, and framing his face was his gorgeous chin-length black hair with an undercut on the right side―a modern Hades with his black clothes and black boots, matched with his golden skin that glowed even under the dim light of the coffee shop.

I arched my brow as I looked at him, wondering what a guy like him was doing at a speed dating.

“Not to be judgmental but he had the look of a sex god and I am pretty sure that every girl who sees him would definitely jump on him. Trust me on that one because if it wasn’t for my lack of interest and self-control, I would have straddled him right there and then.”

Out of habit, I rolled my eyes not out of genuine annoyance but more of to build a bit of persona around him. It was more of a mask as I tried to gauge what he likes and what he was into...the likes. “I didn’t really want to go to this thing. When they said Friday the 13th event, I was looking forward to a slasher fest or a horror movie night, but apparently that’s not what’s going on. I’m not thrilled.” 

And though I stay over poetry and enjoy the sappy love songs, my reputation has long become the disturbed girl with serious parental issues resulting in lack of self-confidence and self-love, matched with a foul mouth and love for gore and anything dark and darker than black. 

“Call it stupid but it was easier to put a mask for someone rather than to bare my soul and be judged and tossed to the side. At least, with a mask, I can throw it away and make a new one. That makes me sound so deranged but so what?”

He chuckled, crossing his legs like he was some kind of model who just had to show off that he could look like a model. “Dark but I like it.” 

That was what did it for me. The moment he appreciated the darkness I presented, I thought that nothing would scare him because right then he knew that knives and blood are what keep me sane. Right then I thought that he knew what kind of mess he was getting into...or what I thought he was getting into. 

“The more we talked, the more I found myself falling in love with him. I learned how he is more than the guy that he lets on to be. In ways, we were similar. We both hated being judged and so we pretend to be someone else to keep our true selves intact and untouched by the chaotic world outside and toxic people who feed on the weak and the kind.

And the more things got real, the more I wanted it. But he felt differently.”

His hand has always felt warm around mine, making me feel safe and secured. There was something about every bit of him that made me feel warm...as if I was home. 

The view was nothing spectacular but the way the sun and the clouds decorated the blue sky was breathtaking in its own way. Our eyes would momentarily take a break from basking in the light and meet each other in a passionate yet brief glance, as if to make sure that we still had each other. I dreaded the moment that we would have to part…

“So you’d understand how crushed I felt when he let go of my hand because his friends were approaching us and he hasn’t told them about me for reasons I didn’t know at the moment, reasons I wished I didn’t know.

He held me as if he didn’t want to lose me. He touched me like I was a goddess he worshiped. He kissed me as if we would die tomorrow. He told me he loves me as if those were the only words he knew. 

But the moment his crew gets involved, I become a girl who got obsessed with him and wanted him all to myself and he was just kind enough to actually play with me.

What kind of self-respecting woman would stay with a guy like him?”

His head hung low, eyes could not even meet mine. “What the hell was that, Jeon?” My voice was firm, trying my best not to explode and risk another unnecessary argument that I knew I could not handle at the moment. “I know you have some kind of reputation to uphold but why can’t you just tell them that we’re in a relationship? Why do you have to make it seem like I am some kind of obsessed fangirl who wouldn’t leave you alone?” 

As he looked up at me, I could see that he felt guilty about it. His doe eyes always worked its charm and I would often forgive him but I could not seem to find a reason to do so. 

“My self-confidence was on a different kind of low. A part of me felt as if he was just hanging me on a hook because I love him...I loved him. He liked the ego boost so he kept me. Every single time he made me feel like a stalker fangirl, I lost every bit of faith and hope that someone could love someone so messed up, that someone could appreciate the broken. 

I very much thought he could and maybe he could.”

Shaking my head, I knew what I had to do and say, “I’m going. I’m sorry, Jeon. I can’t do this if you want to keep this up. I know that you have your own issues but I can’t keep on ignoring it. I can’t keep on pretending that it’s okay because it’s not. I love you. I swear, I do. Maybe even more than myself.” 

I should not have glanced at him because the moment I saw that look on his face, his brown eyes pleading with me. Immediately, I looked away to avoid breaking and losing my stand. “Maybe someday, Jeon.” I paused, a brutal attempt to keep myself from breaking down. “I love you.”

Then I left. 

I left before I changed my mind and decided to settle for what was there. 

“As petty as it sounds, it drove me back to the darkest parts of my mind. Whatever light he brought to my life disappeared. My life drowned in pitch black again. 

My family is a mess, my parents constantly breathing down my neck over every single thing and me being the constant disappointment in their golden lives. My friends expect me to be as high-achieving and goal-oriented as they are as if I have no dreams. 

As stupid as it may seem, Jeon was the only one who understood me...or tried and that was more than enough. 

He tried. And that’s okay.

I didn’t want to kill myself over him. I just wanted to feel a bit of physical pain to justify the emotional pain that I was going through, thinking that the break-up was too small of a thing to cry over...and wounds are more valid.

But I guess I was wrong because I had to talk about all of this again when I didn’t want to. As much as possible, I wanted to keep this all hidden and buried underneath but therapy really wants us to dig deep, right?”

Dressed in a little black dress, curly black hair clipped at the side, black boots tapping against the floor, bandaged wrists making the perfect accessory to show off while drinking a non-spiked punch―it was an outfit I had no time to plan out but it was a perfect way to show off how I feel about the entire thing...not that anyone gives a shit anyway. 

Across the floor was Ms. Kang, glancing at my direction as if I was going to have a breakdown. Her eyes even got bigger than they already are just when I felt someone standing next to me. And by the look on Ms. Kang’s face, she was invested. 

I knew that the older woman across the floor was not going to look away anytime soon. And I did not have to look at who stood next to me because I could very much tell by the scent that was wafting to my direction. 

“Oh Jeon.” 

“What do you want, Jeon?” I asked, trying to stay strong despite my own strength wavering. 

He chuckled, the same cocky reaction he had whenever he knew that he had something in his grip. “You.”

“I’m not a ‘what’ and didn’t I say that we’re not getting back together until you learn to treat me like your girlfriend and not some psycho stalker?” I rolled my eyes as I took a good gulp of my drink, hoping that I seemed convincing because I did not believe anything that was coming from my lips.

He nodded, setting his cup down on the table before he held me by the shoulders and faced me towards him. “And that’s why I’m here. To make things right.” The cocky look on his face immediately melted, his hands reaching for mine. “I told my friends who you are in my life and it took me a while to realize that it didn’t matter what anyone wants to see from me. What’s important is that I’m happy and I’m happy with you.” 

Arching a brow, I asked, “Really?”

“Really.” A smile stretched across his lips as a soft one appeared on mine, almost as if telling him that we were okay. 

“Sometimes, love can be as simple as forgiving. May their apology be truth or lie, time can only tell and it may be too late but you did your part. But we can’t always fear forgiving and getting hurt. Let’s be honest, we learn by getting hurt. And we won’t know unless we try. 

As much as I wanted to keep Jeon at arm’s length, I want to know if things will work out now because I don’t want to wake up one day regretting that I didn’t forgive the guy I truly love, especially for something that’s still fixable.”

“Why is Ms. Kang looking at me like she wants to murder me?” Jeon asked, arms cautiously wrapped around my waist. 

Pressing my lips together for a while, I looked at him with a smile. “Maybe because she knows what kind of asshole you are?” I laughed. 

With a confused look he asked, “What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say that I tell my therapist everything.”

[houseofvans]

SKETCHY BEHAVIORS | INTERVIEW WITH LAUREN YS

From large scale murals to multi-layered works on canvas, LA based artist Lauren YS’s art captures everything from the female experience, addressing topics like sexuality, death, aliens, monsters, and the occult. Her works are complex much like her own experiences, so we’re super stoked to find out more about what drives her, who and what inspires her, and what challenges and advice she has for our readers in this awesome Sketchy Behaviors interview..

Take the leap!

Photographs courtesy of the artist. 

Introduce yourself. Hey! I’m Lauren YS - Hmm, something you might not know … I used to play ice hockey and my favorite candy are Peach O’s. I am a really good listener, but that also means I hate being interrupted. I dream, often, about being underwater.

Tell folks a little about your artwork and what do you love to make works about? I make work about the female experience, sexuality, identity, space, aliens, heritage, death, monsters, nature, emotions, natural phenomena, the occult and whatever else I might be obsessing about. I like slimy creatures, kitsch, psychedelia, sex and Halloween, and mixing repulsion with attraction. I want the viewer to feel unsettled as much as engaged. I make things in an effort to try to process the beautiful shit rocket that is the world around me.

When did art become something you were aware you could do for a living or as a career you wanted to pursue? I have always been making art, but I never thought it was possible to support oneself as an artist: It seemed really out of reach or surreal. It wasn’t until I had already been fully freelance for a year before I realized I was actually doing it. I think it’s just something that comes out of necessity, it’s like – if I want to keep making art as much as possible at the rate I am living, then damn, I’m going to learn how to make money off of it.

What’s a typical studio day for you like? I tend to work nocturnally. I’ll paint through the night and sleep through the day and watch horror movies, listen to podcasts about art, serial killers and cults, and eat anywhere from 1-2 sacks of tangerines every day. I like to really plow through paintings as well, it’s hard for me to stop working on something once I start. After about three weeks in the studio like this, your mind starts to wander off into deep strange places, and that’s when the really good stuff comes out.

What’s your studio or creative space like? What do you keep around to constantly motivate or inspire you? I have always worked best in a bit of “artistic chaos”–I like to fill my space with odds and ends, knick-knacks, items from my travels, talismans. I believe in the power of objects. I love my lava lamp and need to buy seven more. I also have this drawing I made of an Asian grandma screaming “DRAW, MOTHERFUCKER” which I plan to make into a screen print and give to all my artist friends.

When working on a body of paintings and works for a show, what is your process like? How long does it typically take you to complete a painting from start to finish? Depending on the size of the gallery, it can take anywhere from 2-6-10 months to create a show, given that it is often punctuated by mural tours and big projects to pay the bills. I like to work on lots of pieces at the same time, so generally it’ll take a few days to a week or two to finish a piece. I am trying to get better at reworking pieces rather than just pushing through them one by one. Workflow is still sorting itself out. I also make a ton of pieces that end up being nixed from the final show. I am very prolific but also very psychotic.

Not only do you work on canvas, but you are also known for some of your amazing murals! When did you start going from painting on a regular scale to large scale works? What’s your process like for mapping out these large works? Well shucks, thank you! I started painting murals around 2013, which was a sort of natural transition because I wanted to work bigger and bigger, I wanted to travel and be in the sun and use giant machines to make my art. I actually started learning color from using spray paint. I freehand everything because I like to feel independent of projectors or machines, especially if I’m in a foreign country or don’t have time or resources.

It makes me feel empowered to be able to make big things on my own. Maybe that comes from growing up under the common experience girls have, especially asian girls, where you’re expected to be small and quiet and obedient. I have always worked in active aggression against that stereotype.

Is there a medium you’d love to get your hands on, but yet to have the chance too? And what are your go-to materials? I’d really love to learn how to use an airbrush, a la Sorayama. Outside of 2D I am dying to get back into stop motion animation. My favorite brand of spray paint is Montana Black (high pressure forever!), and I use a wide variety of acrylics and gouache in my paintings, specifically the Holbein gouaches from Japan.

What do you love about where you live, and what is the art community like in your area? I never thought I’d move to LA, but I’ve been really enjoying it here. I’m a communal living person (been in and out of communities for about 9 years) and I am lucky to have found somewhere that fits with my work ethic (intense) and social vibe (weird). I like to be able to work alone while still having people bustling around and making things all the time. It helps me to feel like I’m not dead or a total solipsist.

I’ve also found that the artists in LA–especially the female artists–have proven to be really kind, generous and welcoming. There’s a lot of room for weirdos here; it might take a while to find them, but they’re here. We also have a one-eyed cat, did I mention that?

Who are some artists you’re inspired by and have influenced you throughout the years? I’m a big fan of dark/psychedelic/erotic artists like Keiichi Tanaami, Suehiro Maruo, Sorayama and the whole Ero Guro movement. I also love Goya’s dark paintings and the sculpture work of Bernini. Some contemporary artists I’ve been into lately are Christian Rex Van Minnen, David Altmejd, Robin Francesca Williams and the fabric sculptures of Do Ho-Suh. Jamie Hewlett, Swoon, Andrew Hem, Aryz. I find that my taste changes constantly and I am always thirsty for different influences.

What’s been the most challenging part of your art career? What’s been the most rewarding? What do you do to keep the balance? Something really challenging has been learning how to trust myself while growing in the industry and balancing business, work and travel. It’s a really solid test: moving to a new city, providing for yourself, going on tour, shifting from place to place, managing gallery work and mural work, all while protecting and nurturing your own ambition and positivity, and not feed into the shitstorm of capitalism and social media past what is required of you.

The muralist life is not for the faint of heart. I would hardly say that I keep any type of “balance”–art is my life and there isn’t much room for anything else, and that’s how I like it. It is the most rewarding thing to look around and feel like you’ve created something new and good and powerful, all on your own terms. It is similarly rewarding to feel the need to level up - I enjoy feeling stressed arguably more than I enjoy feeling accomplished.

What would your dream collaboration be? What do you enjoy most about collaborations with other artists or clients? I would love to do something with Takashi Murakami and/or his gallery (Kaikai Kiki Gallery). There’s also this amazing Australian animator named Felix Colgrave whose work I’ve been obsessed with lately, I’d love to find a way to make an animated short with him! I love collaborating - especially on mural work - because it’s such a cool experience to be able to intermingle your visual world with someone else’s. Working with ONEQ in Hawaii this year was really great, she had so many suggestions and ideas from out of left field that made me rethink my own work as well. It also forces you to relinquish some control on the way you work, and reflect on the basic joys of making shit in the first place.

If you could paint a portrait of anyone living or dead, who would you choose and why? I really want to do a tripped out portrait of Yayoi Kusama or Bjork or maybe Steve Buscemi—all heroes of mine.

What’s your advice to folks who see what you do and want to pursue art as a career? I would say, go at it as hard as you possibly can! Make sure you really enjoy doing it! Not all parts of painting murals are glamorous (actually, few are) and it’s important to truly love every part of it if you’re going to commit your life to it.

This means: hustling walls, handling machinery, travel, people, logistics, finding somewhere to pee, dealing with unexpected bullshit, not complaining, being comfortable handling yourself in dangerous situations, being independent and resourceful, etc. I have reservations about artists who genuinely don’t seem to enjoy all the elements of mural painting going too deep into it. But if it’s something you love, there’s nothing better.

What are your FAVORITE Vans? I’ve been rocking the classic authentic Vans in black/burgundy as paint shoes for years now. But I also love the Sk8-Hi boys in burgundy… I never wear them because I’m too scared to get paint on them, haha!

What other artists would you love to see interviewed for Sketchy Behaviors? I’m currently really into Andrea Wan, Louise Zhang and Caratoes. It would also be really cool if you covered a GNC or trans artist, like Nomi Chi or Laughing Loone!

What’s next for you that you can share? My first book is coming out this year with Von Zos, and I’m also going to be designing a tarot deck with them. April is my first mural tour in several months; I’ll be hopping from Australia - Guam - Peru, and then moving around South America for a while, trying to practice my spanish. After that, I’ll be starting work on my next big show, scheduled for a city in Asia, which I’m really, really excited about - keep an eye out!

FOLLOW LAUREN YS | WEBSITE | INSTAGRAM | SHOP

[mutantsrisingrpg]

WHO

Name: Isaac Castilla  Dossier: Pandora Age: 19 Mutant Risk Level: Three Affiliation and Occupation: Blackburn Syndicate, Distraction Gender/Pronouns: Cismale, he/him Faceclaim: Benjamin Wadsworth

POWER

REPLICATION: The ability to create identical copies of oneself, often accompanied by the ability to vanish their existence at will. There is not a maximum number one can create at a time, but it is often dependent upon the control the user has (or lack thereof) and the energy they require to create and maintain their copies. These copies, which Isaac refers to as “clones,” share a sort of hive mind with the original user, and can do and say as the original wishes.

AESTHETIC

They are cracked sunglass lenses, clumsily splintering the light they were meant to filter through to your cheeks. They are the sky at dusk, the inky dark blue meeting vivid orange; not quite light enough to revel in the fleeting rays of sun and not quite dark enough to succumb to the shadows of night. They are the heat of a match wearing down close to the fingers that holds it and the brief flash of burning pain upon the skin when you’re too late to blow the flame out. They are in every wicked smile, in every ridiculous idea, in every joke that makes those who hear it groan. They are one, two, three, more. 

BIOGRAPHY

(TW: themes of abuse)

When Anita Castilla gave birth on the floor of a cold cell in Hornsbury Prison, a detention center for mutants, the guards came to find her cradling a pair of identical twin boys, clinging to the warmth of their mother and crying into her jumpsuit. When they’d returned moments later with a nurse to tend to the new mother and her children, they found one of the twins was missing, only to learn after a panic that the second child never existed. Isaac Castilla, how ever many there were of him at the time, was taken from his mother regardless. He couldn’t form memories despite being able to form copies of himself so young, so he couldn’t have known this was the only time he would ever see his mother.

There were times growing up where he thought he would have much rather had the prison cell as his home, as opposed to the place he was sent. With his mother in prison and his father’s identity unknown, Isaac was sent to a home for mutant children, a large drab building he would soon learn was more like punishment than the cell in which he was born. The prison, negligent in its research and uncaring about the mutants it was responsible for, had sent Isaac to the first home in the city that would take him, not knowing or perhaps just not caring that it was run by an anti-mutant organization. 

Growing up at St. Raphael’s taught him nothing but shame and fear – shame for who he was and fear for what he could become. Play time was productive, childhood was snatched from his hands as swiftly as a toy he’d found abandoned under a couch from years ago, and punishment was more than any child should bear. Needles containing something meant to extinguish his ability were more common than the vaccines most normal children received, marks on his wrists from holding him down to perform such frequent procedures did not fade in his mind once the redness faded from his skin. He’d never learned how to properly use his powers, let alone how to control them, for at St. Raph’s, the only proper way to use a power was to never use it at all. The only good mutant was one that didn’t exist.

By the time he was sixteen, Isaac was one of the most troublesome mutants at St. Raph’s, not one to take such punishment lying down the moment he decided he’d had enough, that such things were not normal or even humane in any sense of the word. Clones created accidentally aided in his mischief, whether it was taking food or just trying to mess with those who had banned his doppelgangers in the first place, and it was one day and one very, very lucky accident that brought him his freedom. With little control over his powers, Isaac couldn’t entirely predict when he would make a clone and where they would end up, and luck brought him an angel in the form of a replica of himself who had somehow materialized outside the walls of St. Raph’s. 

While Isaac would describe the story as some sort of Mission: Impossible-esque, action-packed breakout mission, it certainly didn’t look as cool as he claimed it to, mostly involving him squeezing himself out a broken window and ignoring the blood running down his arms as he sprinted away from the staff who chased after him. The taste of freedom mixed with adrenaline upon his tongue made for one hell of a dangerous drug, and Isaac was too addicted to quit seeking such a sensation.

While enjoying the wind in his hair and the sun upon a chipped-tooth grin was enough to keep his head up, crashing down from the high came with the reminder that he had nowhere to go and no clue where his next meal was coming from. He doesn’t often think about what his life would have been like if Isabel hadn’t taken him under her wing, but he doubts he would have made it as far as he has. She’d saved him from the world that did not care for a mutant freed, gave him a home and a bed and a family to call his own. She’d taught him what it was like to feel cared for, and now, he might believe he even has a purpose. Sure, it took him time to learn to control his powers after years of having them stifled, but he prides himself on being an asset to the Blackburn Syndicate and still having enough time to bring his mischief upon the city that once turned its back on him. He’ll make sure they recognize what a mistake they’d made.

CONNECTIONS

ISABEL ACOSTA & LUKE ESPINOSA, Family: Isaac genuinely wouldn’t know where he would be if not for Isabel and Luke, though he’s pretty sure he would still be on the streets or probably dead at this point. Isabel was the one who found him, his guardian angel in the form of a big-sister figure, and soon, Luke became his family, too. They put up with him and give him a bed, and truly, he doesn’t know what more he could ask for – except for someone to pass him the fire extinguisher when he’s in danger of burning down the apartment again.

JORDAN ROJAS, Enemy: There’s something about Jordan that rubs Isaac the wrong way. Maybe it’s their snide comments that almost always go over his head, or the way they seem to suck the fun out of literally everything (though, Isaac’s idea of fun is letting his clones cause mischief). Just ignore them, some might advise, but those people forget that Isaac’s absolute favorite past-time is getting under the skin of others. Any rise out of Jordan is a good one, and he’ll be wearing the biggest shit-eating grin knowing he’s the reason his enemy grits their teeth.

ANASTASIA AHN, Interest: It’s not rocket science to know that staring too long at Anastasia is like staring at the sun – bad for your health. Yet, Isaac can’t stop looking their way, not ignorant to these warnings but partially in spite of them. He never truly cared about what was good for him or not, and their sights set on him make it that much easier for him to be pulled into the web they plan to weave. At least it isn’t the worst way to go.

PANDORA is CLOSED for applications. He is taken by HAYLEY.

[strandsofgold]

Hi!! This might seem like a bit of an out of the blue question, but did you once say that you liked Mafala and Kimbay as a pairing? And if so, could you share your headcanons!! And if it wasn't you, have a good day anyway

oh boy, that sure was me! sorry this has taken so long, i just needed to make sure i got all the key things about this ship that i love – oh, and if anyone has a good ship-name, then please tell me! anyway, thanks for asking me this! enjoy!

before the events of the musical:

kimbay has always been the second rock of the village, the first one being mafala, which means they often work together when it comes to helping the people of the village

they were childhood friends, kimbay was the one who introduced mafala to his wife

when mafala’s wife dies kimbay helps him cope with it by generally being supportive and urging her husband to take some of mafala’s responsibilities on his shoulders

she’s is a shoulder he cries on when everything just becomes too much, and she’s the only person in the village who has seen him cry (except for his wife and nabulungi) 

and she takes care of nabulungi whenever mafala has his hands full, so they have a strong mother-daughter relationship, even though they don’t really voice it out right

kimbay has a miscarriage the first time she becomes pregnant and is completely broken by it

nabulungi doesn’t really understand it, but tries to be supportive anyway and (without her knowing it) serves as a light, along with her father and her husband, in the darkness kimbay finds herself consumed in

still, mafala does everything in his power to return the kindness kimbay showed him when he was in the same darkness, and urges nabulungi to learn some new skills and stuff

this is why nabulungi is so good at staging dances and theater and writing

a lot of her time as a child is spent trying to cheer up those she holds dearest, and what better way to do that than with a musical performance?

eventually, kimbay gets pregnant again and this time she gives birth to a beautiful baby boy, whom she insists on naming mafala

her husband agrees with her because mafala has also been a rock for him and he honestly appreciates mafala so much for helping him and kimbay through the tough times and for generally being a guiding light in the village

(there is absolutely no jealousy or stupid misunderstandings or anything like that! kimbay and her husband are faithful to each other and mafala would never ever try to break them up, first of all, because he is still dealing with the death of his wife, and second of all, because they at this point in the timeline still are only really good friends!)

at this point in time, nabulungi has blossomed into a young, kind, caring, beautiful, and perhaps a bit naive woman

and she loves mafala like a brother (the baby boy), who is only an infant

during the events of the musical:

right before sal tlay ka siti, mafala tells nabulungi to stay in the hut and not open up for anyone before he leaves

why would he leave his only daughter while a warlord is roaming the village? to find and comfort kimbay, a woman who just saw her husband get shot

he finds her at kalimba’s hut, completely broken and sobbing, and mafala feels his soul break for the second time in his life

he persuades kimbay to hand over little mafala to kalimba, who is well aware that they are about to have a very important and quiet conversation

kimbay, at first, doesn’t say anything, only cries and cries and cries, and mafala lets her do it and embraces her and lets her get everything out until she’s breathing heavily and there are no more tears left to shed

she tells him how empty she feels and he replies that she knows exactly what she means

and they talk

they talk the entire night, specifically about how she can cope with it, mafala telling her that she should try and focus on raising her child, because it keeps the mind and body busy and gives a life that, at the moment might seem pointless, a lot of meaning

he knows what he’s talking about and kimbay knows that

and it truly helps her

way more than she could possibly express with words

so instead she just holds him tight and he holds her tight and they comfort each other

and that’s when nabulungi knocks on kamiba’s door with a ‘text’ about how elder cunningham will help the village with his religion

and kimbay just gives her this fragile, heartbroken, yet somehow still warm and genuine smile, and says “okay” and let’snabulungi tell her and mafala all about it

now, as thing progress, mafala doesn’t see the appeal of the religion, he doesn’t believe in any of it, and he certaintly doesn’t like the way nabulungi seems completely enamored by the ‘prophet’

however, he sees the appeal of having kimbay smile and laugh along with the other villagers

he sees the appeal of having her nabulungi work closely together on a performance

he sees the appeal of kimbay finding a higher purpose in life, and for that he will always be grateful for elder cunningham, no matter how fucking weird his stories are

he also notices how nabulungi and elder cunningham seem to be growing closer and closer each day, but doesn’t say anything after a hushed conversation with kimbay (he does, however, send plenty of stern looks their way)

after the events of the musical:

oh boy, cunningham, or arnold, as nabulungi has asked mafala to call him, sure does spend a lot of time with his little girl

he doesn’t like it

but he tolerates it

arnold notices this and tries to impress him and shit

yeah, doesn’t work

a few months go by where everyone is generally happy and helpful, and mafala, now that there’s a lot of new hands to help around the village, allows himself (the privilege) to take some breaks from time to time and usually spends them helping kimbay with her children

mafala and kimbay sure do spend a lot of time together

nabulungi notices, but doesn’t think much of it, and then, one day, she walks by them and randomly hears mafala just let out this warm and genuine and adoring laugh and she just stops and is like

oh, okay, this is happening

and then she fucking bolts to kalimba and is like ‘this is fucking happening’ and kalimba is like ‘i fucking know, but don’t intervene, let them figure it out in their own time.’

but she, nabulungi being nabulungi, doesn’t really listen and is instantly making small plans

meanwhilearnold is very confused because he, at another point while mafala and kimbay where talking, walked up to mafala and asked if he could take nabulungi out on a date and stuff, like for the night, and mafala just said yes, barely noticed him

bacausekimbay and mafala are always with each other it seems

so, yeah, confusion

and when he tells nabulungi she just squeals and is like ‘i knew it! i’m so happy for them!’

and then they do all kinds of stupid shit to try and get them together or admit their feelings for each other, but both kimbay and mafala are oblivious

but then there’s one stuff that takes everything a little too far, and mafala confronts nabulungi and she just says, in the tiniest voice, ‘i wanted to help get the two of you together’

and mafala is just like ‘i am confusion’ and stares at her blankly, asks what she means

and nabulungi says, ‘the way you look at her. you look so in love. i’ve never seen you look at someone like that since mama’

and mafala’s brain just shortcircuts

he’s absolutely baffled but realises she’s right and just, well

there’s a lot of panic

kimbay means so much to him and he knows she’s still dealing with the death of her husband and he doesn’t want her to feel like he’s trying to push her into anything or only helping her because he likes her

and then he feels terrible because he feels like he’s betraying nabulungi and her mother

but nabulungi reassures her that she’s so happy he’s finding love again and that she’s proud of him

and then they have this long and important conversation about moving on and healing, and nabulungi explains to him that, even though she may always be his little girl, she is a grown woman who can make her own choices, and there’s a lot of crying and hugging and just feel-good family moments and fuck you if you think it’s too cheesy and cliché

give me all the clichés

but mafala still doesn’t want to, like

pressure kimbay or somehow ruin their friendship

so they just go on as they usually do

except now mafala is very conscious of every little think they do together

and how he kinda loses his breath a little when kimbay laughs

and how he blushes when their hands touch

and how he finds himself thinking of her a lot

uh oh, he’s got it bad

and they just get closer and closer

to a point where they are together so often, just helping each other and laughing and stuff, and nabulungi joins them too, even arnold sometimes

until kimbay asks mafala if she can move with him and nabulungi because she feels kinda lonely sleeping all by herself, and they could always renovate her hut and turn it into something with a different purpose

mafala is definitely not opposed to this and neither is nabulungi

so one day he decides to sort of, you know, ask her what her thoughts on finding someone new to fall in love with, totally asking for a friend haha *sweats nervously*

and kimbay is just like ‘yeah, i mean, we’ve been sort of dating for some time now, haven’t we?’

and mafala’s just like ‘wat?’

turns out kimbay has just assumed, after the more intimate moments of hand touching and the amount of time spend together, that mafala was about to ask her to marry him

she’s like ‘you know all that hand touching wasn’t accidental, right? right? i really like you. it’s been such a long time since i lost my husband, and i still love him, but i am allowed to move on and fall in love again. and i have.’

and then they have this really long conversation about learning to let go and allowing oneself to be happy

a lot of kisses and ‘i love you’s happen

and then they get married (of course the ceremony doesn’t go over smoothly *cough* nabulungi and arnold *cough*)

and you can bet your ass mafala – after a long talk about american traditions with arnold – asks mckinley to be his best man, because you can rip the headcanon that mafala is mckinley’s first nurturing and caring father-figure from my cold dead hands

that’s itthat’s all i have for nowif you made it this far, then please talk to me about these two, i love them so much, please, kimbay and mafala deserve so much good in this world

[concussed-to-pieces]

More! Part One

Fandom: My Hero Academia/Boku No Hero Academia

Pairing: Eventual Tenya Iida/OFC

Rating: Holy shit M

AN: Hello all, it's time for the first chapter of my prime indulgence! To any of my anime-inclined broskis out there, welcome aboard!

In The Shadow

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: For gratuitous,canon-typical violence and facial trauma. Stay safe!]

Tenya had been informed time and again that college was slightly different from high school. He endured a few weeks of mental gymnastics when he realized that he wouldn’t have a uniform. College was different and yet...not. Certainly, no uniform to iron the night before and the ability to make your own schedule were boons. Nearly all of his ‘new’ classmates were old friends from high school which meant that he wasn't lacking in company, but many people didn’t seem to share Iida’s enthusiasm for continuing to better oneself even after the preliminary quirk training of high school! He wanted to be the best hero he could be, he wanted to make his family proud!

That was why he made the choice to attend college in the first place, with Tensei's wholehearted support behind him. He knew that any time he wanted it, he could have a job at his family’s hero agency. So why not be the best possible fit for his future job? Tenya was incredibly fortunate to have a secure career, and he took his studies very seriously.

Leona Moore wasn’t a troublemaker, though the way that she dressed had set off warning bells in Tenya’s brain. It was the pants, he decided, the overlarge cargo pants that had too many pockets. She was notoriously early for her classes, sometimes by an hour or so. Tenya admired her dedication, consistently fifteen minutes ahead of schedule himself. She always had a lollipop stick protruding from her mouth, her shoulders hunched slightly underneath the leather jacket she usually wore. She couldn’t seem to decide on whether she wanted to make herself seem larger or smaller, her clothes all slightly too big for her frame and her jokes never failing to make Kirishima snort with laughter at the worst possible times.

Her quirk made her a little touch-shy, Izuku had kindly pointed out to Tenya when Iida was confused over her standoffish behavior during their warm up period before general training. “She’s had to be pretty careful, Iida. She didn’t learn how to use her quirk until halfway through high school. Before that, she didn’t even know she had one!” Iida could only imagine how volatile the situation for that revelation must have been, seeing as she had a quirk that doubled the power of any kinetic force she withstood.

She also had control, seeming to have mastered the ability to turn it off and on at will. Tenya's misguided pity had turned into genuine admiration after watching her perform in their college sports festival. Granted, next to the explosive display of Bakugou versus Ururaka or the emotional minefield of Todoroki and Deku's battle, Leona's bout wouldn't stand out overmuch to the average viewer.

Leona had been paired up against Mineta, who made the fatal mistake of immediately pelting her with his ammunition in an attempt to incapacitate her. The kinetic energy from his rapid-fire slinging seemed to send her into overdrive, the young woman slamming an uppercut to his jaw that landed him in the lower stands. One punch, and the round was over. Iida silently approved of the way she had turned and bowed to the crowd before leaving the field. As a hero, one of many priorities would be to end fights quickly and decisively. Another one was courtesy to bystanders and officials-

...

How strange, he mused, thinking about her at a time like this. His rage continued to boil and yet…

He closed his eyes. Just for a minute. God, it was strange. Would she be proud of him? Proud of his rabid behavior? What about his family? Fear lanced through Tenya's heart, the first he had felt in ages. What if his parents lost him to this ill-advised fight? What if...what if this was the end?

The blade in his shoulder twisted sharply and Tenya bit back a sound of pain. He refused to show any more weakness to this monster, regardless of what he might endure.

“Hey, what the hell are you doin' to my class rep?!”

Tenya's eyes shot open. No. That's-

“You've got the nerve of a bull elephant if you're takin’ on ‘Genium. Who do you think you are?!”

“Run More! Get away from here!” Tenya yelled. “He’s got some kind of paralysis quirk, don't let him get close to you!”

Stain grunted, obviously a little startled by the young woman's abrupt presence. From what Tenya could see out of the corner of his eye, his classmate Leona (hero name More for reasons he had yet to discern) looked red in the face like she’d been running for a while. Her shoulders were still heaving up and down even while she raised her fists.

“You're another trainee. Interesting.” Stain remarked, almost as if he was talking to himself. “So you're also from the college. And you called him the class rep, which means he and you are in the same classes.”

“Mind like a steel trap on ya’.” Leona replied dryly. “Any other obvious insight you want to share, or can I beat the shit out of you now?”

Tenya bit back the reflexive shout of language!, shocked out of his impotent bloodlust by how brazen his classmate was being. It was an admirable strategy. Or at least, it would have been if she actually had backup.

“Another fake hero who needs to be cleansed from the planet.” Stain eased his blade out of Tenya's arm agonizingly slow.

“Thanks, but I'm plenty clean. Took a shower this mornin’ and everything. The name's More, and I'm no fake!” Leona called to Tenya then, her voice sharp with poorly-concealed worry. “How you holdin’ up, Calf Crusher?”

Tenya groaned. Her nicknames never ceased to send the class into fits. “I can't move. I'll be no help at all. He's just going to kill you. Why did you interfere?”

“You've gotta' be shittin’ me right now, Rep. Like I would just stand by and watch you get fucked? What kind of friend would that make me?” She sounded incredulous. If Tenya didn't know any better, she actually sounded a little irritated.

“One that keeps living, that's what kind!” Tenya snapped. We're barely friends! his mind added traitorously.

Leona pounded her fist into her palm and then jerked her hands up in a way oddly reminiscent of how Iida would move when he was excited. “I know who this guy is. More importantly, I know who you are and I figured out what you were up to when you picked Hosu for your internship. It's okay.” She reassured him.

You're going to die. “I'm begging you. Please leave.”

“I'm not gonna’ let you degrade yourself by beggin’ me, bud.” Leona retorted. “Second oldest son, heir to the Ingenium name, badass extraordinaire and all around decent dude, shut the fuck up and let me do what I can to make sure you can keep doing the best that you can!” She all but shouted, leaving Tenya speechless as Stain stepped over his body.

“‘More’, huh? Why, because you're always trying to be the best? Maybe because you want to protect more people. At least, that's what you would say, right?” Stain sneered, brandishing his sword.

“No way man! ‘More’ because the more the merrier when it comes to me!” She shot right back, that teasing grin firmly fixed on her face. “I may not be fast or smart like ‘Genium...hell, I'm not even all that special compared to the other people in my class, but I'm still here!” Tenya's eyes widened as she advanced on Stain, extending a hand. “I look forward to apprehending you, sir!”

“You'll be fun to kill.” Stain lashed out a second too late, Leona barely ducking his blade in time. “Another false hero, proud to wear the title and unwilling to do the damn dirty work that comes with it!”

“I feel like this is pretty dirty work right now.” She pointed out, catching his next strike with her gloved hand and grunting at the impact against the padding of her gloves. “Whew, a little harder next time and you'll take me down for sure!” She encouraged sarcastically, twisting the blade and coming close to ripping it clean out of the villain's grasp. She was so focused on his sword that the knife thrown at her arm caught her by surprise.

Stain’s speed and raw power were devastating. The blade sank deep, so deep, too deep. Tenya's brother in that hospital bed was burned into his mind, I can't feel my legs I can't feel my legs. “More!” Tenya had thought he felt helpless before, but it was now multiplied tenfold. “Damn it, I told you to run!”

“It shouldn't be too tough to keep him here until the pros arrive. I'm in for the long haul, Calf Crusher. Don't worry.” Leona said calmly, her rational words only serving to confuse the engine hero. She was built to take hits and he had never witnessed any particularly mindblowing strategies from her. Maybe he had written her off too soon. Maybe-

Stain rushed her, that deadly sword smeared red with Iida's blood. Moore jerked the knife out of her arm and used it to hastily deflect the worst of the cut from the sword away from her torso, snagging the blade under her arm instead. Stain drew another knife, this one serrated, and slashed at her face with it. One of the teeth on the knife caught the edge of her mouth and split it open nearly to her cheekbone. Leona staggered back, holding her cheek.

Stain turned up the pressure, releasing his sword momentarily in favor of cracking a fierce punch into her wounded face. Blood spattered from the impact, Stain's knuckles that sick red. “That all you got? Gimme’ more!” Moore slurred through her broken mouth, that infuriating grin still-

Oh. Tenya felt like an idiot. She was the endurance hero. She absorbed punishment like it was oxygen, a kinetic battery that could only be charged by violent outbursts. And when she decided to strike back, she doubled the output...but her body had limits, he had seen them in action during training. Midoriya had given her a kick at her request and instead of explosively discharging the extra power, she just passed out.

His heart slammed in his throat. If she pushed herself too hard, Stain wouldn't even have to do anything.

She swung at the hero killer and the doubled power of her blow threw him to slam his back into the alley wall. Stain wheezed for breath, clearly confused by the force behind her hit. “Just who the hell are you?” He panted.

“Beat me an’ maybe you'll learn.” Blood was spilling between her gritted teeth, running in a brilliant trail down her chin to drip off the bottom of her jaw. She was smiling like a fiend.

“I've never met anyone so eager to die.” Stain grimaced, rotating his shoulder and then shaking it out.

Tenya heard a strange crackling noise, almost like electricity. Midoriya rocketed over his head and bounded off the walls of the alleyway, a green missile with fist extended to crash into Stain. “Smash!” He yelled. Green energy, lightning, whatever it was it was blanketing his body. The Hero Killer was flung further back in the alley from the impact. Izuku skidded to a halt beside Moore, shaking his hand and hissing in pain. “Sorry I took so long!” He said brightly, like he hadn't just given the man responsible for killing a multitude of heroes the most thunderous of haymakers. “How you doing?”

“Take care of ‘Genium. He can't move, help him get out of here!” Leona said urgently.

Tenya refused to meet Midoriya's eyes, ashamed at how his own filled with frustrated tears. Midoriya reached for him and then went stiff. Tenya's heart fell into his stomach when he noticed the small tear in Midoriya’s glove and the blood blotting the fabric. Just enough. “Uh...I can't...move either?” Midoriya muttered slowly.

Tenya watched Leona freeze as well, her arms grinding to a halt. “Stain, your fight is with me! Leave them alone!” Tenya yelled, his voice cracking.

Further down the alleyway Stain grinned, giving his knife another lick. “I think I'd rather play with your friends. At least they landed hits on me. Unlike you. How does it feel to know that this is entirely your fault, fake hero?”

An ugly noise of agony fought free of Iida, rasping in his throat like sandpaper. It was true, wasn't it? Tensei worked so hard because Tenya believed in him, looked up to him, and the eldest Iida wanted to make his little brother proud. If Tenya hadn't been such a child, maybe…maybe his big brother wouldn't have tried so hard to rid the world of injustice. Maybe his big brother would still be able to walk. Fake hero.

And his classmates, friends, tangled up in this mess because of him! Midoriya crouched so close and yet so far away, his eyes darting around as he tried to figure out where Stain would come from. Moore, frozen in place with her back to the two of them while she was forced to face down the Hero Killer. “I'm so sorry.” Tenya breathed finally.

“Don't apologize! I should be apologizing. I should have gotten you to talk to me after what happened to your brother.” Midoriya looked tearful. “I should have said something. I just didn't want to pressure you. I'm sorry I'm a bad friend.”

Tenya was at a loss for words, losing his ability to stave off the tears streaming down his face.

Flames suddenly illuminated the whole alley, the gout of fire threatening to cook Tenya in his armor. “Next time you send your location, give a little more info.” It was Todoroki! And he was using his left side! Tenya was aghast. How many acquaintances had his blind rage dragged to this slaughter?

“Easy! I think you singed my hair!” Midoriya fussed at the icy hot hero. “That was all I had time to send!”

Stain hammered a fist into Moore's side, making the endurance hero spit out a mouthful of blood. Her arm wound up for a swing of her own, body sluggishly chugging forward like she was moving through molasses. The fact that she could move at all, though-! Was it because she absorbed the momentum from his hits? Or was Stain’s control weaker the more people it was spread across? Tenya found himself pondering the ins and outs of the man's quirk even as Stain pummeled Moore. She was defenseless, where was the honor in this?! Tenya's fingers twitched, uselessly tapping the cracked blacktop.

Todoroki drove Stain away from Moore with a combination attack, fire and ice arcing through the air as he switched rapidly. Leona slid one foot back, then the other, spitting more blood off to the side and slowly raising her arms in a defensive move. “Icy Hot, you-”

“I know. Keep my distance. Shouldn't be too difficult.” The flames on Todoroki's left side burned even brighter. “I'm not one hundred percent comfortable with my fire yet, but I can't deny its applications here.”

“How many children will throw themselves upon my blade tonight?” Stain cackled incredulously. “Bad enough that your friend in the armor didn't have the brains to run and get help just like his stupid brother, but now the rest of you feed yourselves to me!” He shook his head. “This next generation of heroes gets weaker and weaker. At least I'm lessening the workload on your professors.”

“You be quiet!” Iida shouted, fingers digging into the asphalt. “Ingenium was the model hero, the perfect example of selflessness and respect for others that a villain like you couldn’t possibly understand! I'll never forgive you for hurting my brother!” He screamed, able to move his neck now so he could look up at Stain while he issued his ultimatum. He didn't care how idiotic he must look, barely managing to wiggle his fingers while he yelled his fury at this man, this villain, this monster who had fractured his family.

“You're selfish. Dragging your friends into this fight because of your petty need for revenge. You're the furthest thing from a hero. You're a weakling.” Stain sheathed his sword, drawing two smaller knives instead and lunging at Todoroki and Moore.

“Don’t listen to him!” Midoriya said fiercely, somehow already able to move again! Was Tenya really that weak? Or was Stain’s quirk overpowering him because he had been the first one hit? “He’s just-”

“No. He's completely correct.” Tenya cut him off dully, clenching his hand into a fist. “If I hadn't been so consumed with this...if I had just been stronger, maybe…” Emotion closed his throat.

“Knock it off!” Leona yelled, startling him with the fury in her tone. “You don't need to be a fuckin’ martyr, Iida! What good does it do your brother if you get your ass killed?” Her voice was rough, words hard to understand through the injury she had sustained. “Think about how your parents will feel, and especially think about how your brother will feel! We're here to help, Rep, but you gotta’ take our hand!”

“Ingenium wouldn't give up!” Todoroki continued where she left off. “Be Ingenium! Get up and fight!”

As though a switch had been flipped, feeling surged through Tenya's arms and legs. Pins and needles so harsh it made him wince, and it was nothing compared to the pain in his limp arm, but he was up, he was up-

He staggered to his feet, splaying his stance just to stay vertical.

Stain hacked Midoriya’s leg out from beneath him after barely avoiding another Smash and then rushed Todoroki, nimbly dodging the fire and ice attacks in an attempt to bring that sword down on Todoroki's left arm, he would sever it clean at his shoulder-

Tenya felt like everything shifted to quarter-speed. Leona's fingers grasped desperately at Todoroki's shirt to try and pull him out of the way in time. She was still too slow, still sapped by the hero killer's quirk. Shoto's eyes went wide in realization, the young man attempting to recoil backwards away from the blade. Midoriya was yelling something, Todoroki's name no doubt, tears shining in his eyes.

Tenya's breathing echoed in his ears. In, out, in--

The engines in his calves came roaring to life in a glorious rush of Reciproburst! and without a thought for his own safety, Tenya was there between Todoroki and that sword. His armored knee shattered the blade before he whipped his whole body around via bicycle kick and re-aimed his leg at Stain's side. The hit made landfall accompanied by a shower of blue sparks from the heat of his engines, essentially drop-kicking the villain out of midair.

Stain was flung head over heels. Iida stumbled as his right leg gave out, clumsily dropping to one knee. His engines sputtered to a halt, shudders of pain from his calves flickering over the all-encompassing agony in his wounded arm. Fleetingly he wondered if he had ruptured something in his frenzy.

“Iid-Ingenium!” Todoroki shoved the larger man behind him and issued another burst of flame, barely warding off the rallying villain in time. “He’s fighting like a rabid animal. Be careful!”

“Give me a good kick, ‘Genium!” Leona suggested eagerly. “I'll get his ass back down to ground level so you and the others can wreck him!”

“My Reciproburst shot my engines and I don’t think a regular punch would offer you sufficient damage, I've overheated and I need more…time...” Iida paused, his eyes narrowing as a thought occurred to him. “Todoroki! Can you freeze my legs without plugging my exhausts?”

Todoroki opened his mouth to reply and Stain roared in outrage, bolting through Todoroki's flames in the distraction for another attack on the icy hot hero. Tenya and Moore moved at the same time, Tenya extending his good arm in front of Todoroki’s chest to offer him the protection of his armor while Leona rushed forward to fight Stain one on one. “You're in the way!” Stain snarled at them, leaping backwards up the icy pillars Todoroki had created.

A folding knife found its mark in Tenya's upper arm after penetrating his armor and he gritted his teeth in pain, doing his best to hold fast. “Todoroki please-!” A larger serrated knife followed the first, slamming into Tenya's forearm so hard he was forced prone. The wind was knocked out of him by his abrupt change in posture and Tenya choked for breath, still bewildered by the Hero Killer's power and tenacity.

“Iida!” Todoroki actually stopped his elemental attacks on Stain in favor of reeling back his fire-wreathed fist and whacking a heated punch into Moore's shoulder (to Tenya's dismay). Leona laughed (also to Tenya's dismay), easily accepting the blow while the air began to reek of smoldering cloth and lycra. Todoroki quickly slapped his other hand down on the burning area of her vest, extinguishing the heat before it could get out of hand.

“Just freeze my legs!” Iida yelled, startled by the fierce cry Moore let out before she lunged upwards at the retreating Stain.

A distraction, a distraction, he realized suddenly, take the punishment and double it to give us time. Please Leona!

Midoriya was back up again, limping badly. Cold ripped at the armor covering Tenya's calves, the frigid temperature almost too much to bear. This was an incredible risk he was taking, pushing on past the natural boundaries that his quirk and familial training had instilled. He hadn’t had enough time to recover naturally from his last Reciproburst. If something gave out under the strain, he would be incapable of defending himself.

It didn't matter. Tenya felt his engines choke, sputter, and then rev wildly. His left arm was useless at this point. He used his teeth to pull out the knife in his right, retching at the sour taste of old blood on the handle. Both arms were effectively unusable.

It didn't matter. He would use his legs. As long as Leona could land a hit that would get Stain off-balance enough for himself (and possibly Midoriya, but it might be presumptuous to rely on him) to capitalize on, that was all that he could ask for.

Iida stood, bending his legs at the knees as he prepared to leave the ground. Leona wisely aimed at the building directly beneath where Stain had jabbed the remaining stub of his sword in to perch, the doubled power from Todoroki's hit easily crushing the cement to instability. Thank God the buildings were long abandoned. Stain at least picked fights far away from where people would frequent, isolating his victims. A solitary, fiendish predator.

Iida crouched as low as he could, his exhausts glowing bright blue with the horsepower he was putting out. A new word came to mind.

“Recipro-” The engines in his calves stalled and keened, out of sync with one another as the ice dissolved into rivulets of moisture on the heated surface of his armor. “-extend!” He left the ground behind, a cloud of dust billowing in his wake.

If I just…

Tenya rocketed towards Stain, his eyes locked on the villain.

...use my leg…

He was vaguely aware of Midoriya out of the corner of his blurred vision, a brilliant streak of verdant green that seemed to hang in midair perpendicular to his path of upward motion.

...that's all I need…

His knee threatened to hyperextend even with his armor to brace him. Iida squinted fiercely and gritted his teeth.

...to beat this guy!

Midoriya’s fist planted in Stain's jaw the same time Iida's foot crashed into the villain's unprotected side. The impact rang in Tenya's ears, metal on cloth on skin on metal, high reverberations that sent shivers down his back.

Even after that tandem strike, the conniving villain still managed to swipe wildly at Tenya with one of his many knives. Tenya barely moved his head in time, feeling the blade just catch on the top of his dark locks. He narrowed his eyes, ignoring the fact that the three of them were now rapidly returning to the ground. Izuku started scrabbling at the wall, trying to grab a handhold.

“I will defeat you Stain!” Iida shouted passionately. “Because you are a criminal, and I am a hero!” His second kick didn't miss the free-falling villain either, cracking into Stain’s side so hard Tenya could feel the older man’s ribs collapse as they plummeted towards Todoroki and Leona in the alley far, far below.

Arms locked around Tenya's hips and Leona pushed off the wall in an abrupt redirection, moving Tenya so Todoroki could have a clear shot at the villain. How had she jumped so high, so fast?! She skidded to a stop on a pillar of ice that Shoto had made, still holding tight to Tenya’s waist. Iida shifted his weight as low as he could, trying to help so they wouldn’t go over the edge. His legs felt like gelatin, like they would fold underneath him, and he was immensely grateful for her strong hold on his armor.

Shoto's mastery of ice was intimidating enough up close and personal, but his barely-controlled flames were a sight to see. Tenya supposed it probably had to do with man's deep-seated primal terror involving fire, if he had to chalk it up to something. A massive fireball engulfed Stain, missing Midoriya by the barest of inches.

“Deku!” Leona yelled, sighing in relief when the young hero gave her a thumbs up and a wavering smile from his own slippery perch.

“Get up and keep fighting, you three! I doubt that was enough to…” Todoroki trailed off, his eyes widening in confusion. Stain had crash landed on yet another of his icy plateaus, the villain’s eyes rolled back in his skull. He looked like he had been knocked unconscious.

Is he dead?

Tenya hated the sick, joyous thrill that sang up his spine at the thought. He had been so selfish, so blinded in his fury that he believed his actions righteous. It was terrifying that he could so coldly rationalize the taking of another human being’s life, even one so horrible as the Hero Killer! He would never forgive himself if his own mistakes had urged Todoroki forward into doing the unthinkable.

Moore went limp against Tenya’s back, her relief palpable. “Icy Hot, I think we’re all going to need an assist at this point.” She slurred. “I’ve lost...a lot of blood. Head wounds, you know the drill.”

“Your mouth! Moore, are you-”

“I think he knocked out one of my teeth?” She mumbled over Tenya’s frantic question, moving to sit beside him and then carelessly dragging the flap of skin from the split side of her mouth aside (presumably so she could count her own teeth). Tenya fought a wave of nausea at her rough actions, thankful that at least the destroyed side of her face was outside his limited field of vision. His own pain and injuries he could take in stride, but someone else’s because of him was…

He didn’t care for the sensation at all.

Todoroki eased them to the ground through careful manipulation of his quirk, until finally the three heroes and one villain were safely down. Stain had indeed been knocked unconscious, but whether by the punch, kicks or outright fireball was anyone’s guess. Shoto wasted little time securing the villain with some clothesline he found in a dumpster, practically mummifying the older man with the half-frayed rope.

“We need to get him to the street. The pros and the police should be able to handle it from here.” Todoroki said calmly.

“I can drag him!” Tenya offered immediately, taken aback when Todoroki shot him an incredulous look.

“Have you forgotten about your arms, Iida? What will you drag him with?” Shoto deadpanned. Tenya deflated a little. He had almost forgotten the beating he had taken, if he was being honest. Adrenaline.

Moore’s snicker was a half-hearted gurgle at best, the endurance hero scooping Midoriya up onto her back and starting the slow limp to the street. “C’mon Calf Crusher, let’s get you home. I’m sure your pros are really worried about you guys.”

Iida trailed silently after his classmates (friends, he reminded himself), flushed with shame. Moore hung back for a second, letting him come up alongside her and Midoriya.

“Hey, you know that this isn’t your fault, right?” She murmured as best as she could. “I would have done the same thing no matter who the hero killer was going after.”

“I wish I had said something at the train station that day.” Midoriya whimpered. “I could tell that you were hurting, Iida, but I just...I didn’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

Iida shook his head dejectedly. “Don’t apologize to me, Midoriya. It’s not your responsibility to look out for my emotional wellbeing. I ought to have better control over my-”

“As your friends, it’s absolutely our responsibility! We need to pay attention to each other in this line of work, Iida!” Midoriya actually interrupted him. “You never know...you never know what could be the thing that pushes someone over their edge! You’ve always been there for the whole class since high school and the one time you needed us, we weren’t there for you!” Izuku was always so passionate about hero work, throwing himself headfirst towards any new challenge they faced. It should be no surprise to Iida that he would have a speech prepared for this situation.

So why were tears blurring his vision further? Tenya tried to no avail to wipe them away with his limp arm, ending up smearing blood across his cheek instead. Moore clicked her tongue at him (an impressive feat in and of itself due to the wounding of her oral cavity), pausing in her forward motion to dig in her pocket and tug out a red bandanna. “Never know when you’ll need a field dressing.” She shrugged, using the cloth to clumsily mop at Iida’s face. “There. That’s better. Look a little less damp.”

“I’m relatively certain that I’m the furthest thing from ‘less damp’ right now. But…” Tenya hesitated, unsure if this was overstepping a classmate or coworker boundary. “Thank you for your, er, concern. I will...do my best to rectify this grave error in judgement.” His bow was, as ever, perfect. “I humbly beg your forgiveness.”

“You don’t need to, Tenya.” Moore using his first name snapped Iida’s eyes up, the large man startled. She gave him a thumbs up and a grin that was a wince, her facial expression a little more kindly than he was used to seeing on her despite the gruesome flap of skin that hung from her cheek. “Let’s go, dude.”

“Will you pull yourself together? You’re the class rep. You're practically our mascot.” Todoroki complained, the hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.

Gratitude closed Tenya’s throat and he nodded hurriedly, trying to blink back the fresh wave of tears.

[batboys-and-other-messes]

Elevator (Tim Drake X Fem!Reader)

Requested: NO A/N:  This was supposed to be short and sweet and then I lost control …. I had a conversation with @sassyshoulderangel319 (I can already type that url out by heart) about this post and which one I would choose and then somehow this formed in my heart and jesus, it was such a good idea. I put it under a Read More because it's ridiculously long and seriously… But I hope you guys like it!! Word count: 6256 (YES You read correctly. I lost control) Warning(s):  Claustrophobia Tagged: @icequeen206 @crescent-bluemoon @nanna-the-batmum @xoleaox @sleep-depiravation [You wanna be tagged in my next piece? Just shoot me a message or ask!]

Your feet dragged across the floor as you walked towards the elevator. 

Today was one of these days again. The kind that never ended and just seemed to drag on to eternity.

Your Head was pounding, your eyes were tired and your legs felt like someone had filled them with metal and put a magnet underneath the whole floor.

The building was already empty, which wasn’t a surprise at that time. It was already well past midnight and even the cleaning staff had been there and left again. You were alone, walking down the hallway.

Well, technically ‘alone’ except the one old guy who was lying there on his desk. You weren’t even sure if he was still alive but from what you heard through the gossip of the others, he just went through a nasty divorce and practically lived at his desk.

Poor Robert.

Well, at least he had a desk.

You knew you shouldn’t complain. You got a summer job at Wayne Enterprises. It was an opportunity some of your classmates would kill for, but there was always a catch with these kinds of things. What you didn’t expect when you signed all these confidentiality agreements was that your supervisor would be a lazy asshole that made you do all kinds of things you shouldn’t have to do.

But you had no say in the matter. Absolutely none.

So you sucked it up and got shit done.

And now that you had carried all these binders to the upper floor it was time to go down, get a taxi and sleep through tomorrow, your day off.

Almost lifelessly you pressed the elevator button, feeling like your finger might break from that little action.

Even the buttons up here were posh. The only thing missing was diamond-encrusting them. Maybe the Top floor had butlers that pushed the buttons for them?

You smiled at your own stupid joke, glad that nobody saw you. The doors opened and you stepped in. You pressed the last button and took out your phone. You haven’t had time to glance even once at it and were surprised to find 9 missed calls and about three dozen different messaged on it.

You were popular?

You expression fell when you saw that all of them were from your best friend.

The elevator moved but instead of going down it started to rise and you groaned internally. Someone from the higher-ups was still in the building, at this time?

You focused back on your phone. You phone signaled that it was very low on battery but you just clicked it away before you opened the newest messages and started to read them.

BITCH did you die or did you forget how to use your damn phone?? ANSWER ME Or do you think you are better than me now that you have a JOB and a PURPOSE in life? smh Hello??? You need to humble yourself Anyways, I have good news I’m gonna assume you asked ‘Oh Jenny, what good news?’   I found your lonely ass a boyfriend. I know, I know, thank me later Or thank me now Well, its actually gonna be a double date And I kinda already promised you’ll come I swear he’s cute Kinda Mine is They are brothers But he also has a sister, if you’re not in the mood for a guy? Don’t think I haven’t noticed your gay tendencies towards batgirl ANYWAYS Sorry to break your coming out? Or is it rather a Passing BI? haha Yeah okay, that was a bad one That’s what you get for ignoring me Bitch

You closed your eyes as you heard the elevator ding, and the doors open. You were too tired for this shit. Way too tired for any of this.

Also, who wasn’t gay for Batgirl?

That was normal, right?

You started typing out your reply, too focused not to use too many curses and to keep her family out of it, to even notice the stranger that entered.

A moment passed and suddenly everything happened at once. You hit send, then the elevator shook, it stopped with a BANG, your phone died and the lights went out.

It all happened in the blink of an eye and for a moment you thought you had died.

And suddenly, your realized your situation.

‘I am stuck in an elevator’, was the only thing you could think of.

The person next to you sighed deeply and you let out a scream and jumped to the nearest wall.

‘WE are stuck in an elevator’

Fuck.

You took in a shaky breath as you felt cold and hot at the same time. Your sleepiness was gone, being replaced by a thousand pictures of crashing elevators and that one weird X-Factor Episode where (supposedly) death himself was in one and you only heard the screams of these people and you really didn’t want to die in an elevator with a stranger. You had so many things you still wanted to do! Hell, you haven’t even paid your student loan yet! 

Though this thought calmed you a little bit.

Fuck capitalism.

“Hey” A male voice spoke up somewhere from the left. “Are you okay?” he asked and you gulped.

Okay, (Y/N), don’t show him that you’re having a panic attack.

“No.” you answered truthfully.

Yeah okay, that didn’t go as planned.

Maybe it was the adrenalin or the utter terror in your bones,  but you weren’t really able to lie right now.

“It’s gonna be okay. We’ll just have to find the emergency-button.” He said and he sounded young. Something about his voice and the way he said it made you feel calmer but the fact that you were locked in here with a stranger unnerved you.

You nodded, realizing that he couldn’t see you, you added a quick “Okay.”

You moved towards where you remembered the buttons to be and suddenly you felt a hand and you yelped.

His hands were cold.

“Oh sorry.” He apologized and you heard him press a button, once.

You two waited and he pressed it again.

After pressing it about fifteen times nothing happened.

The darkness was getting to you and your hands started to sweat as you cursed yourself for not taking the elevator with the glass walls and the freaking panorama view. At least the moon would’ve provided some light but no, you were lazy and took the first one you saw.

“Weird.” The guy said and you didn’t answer. But it seemed like he was more talking to himself. “Usually the emergency generator should’ve turned on by now. And if that one failed the backup should’ve been enough to at least power the elevators.”

Maybe he was just thinking out loud but every single word filled you with a deeper sense of dread. 

Was it common knowledge how many emergency-generators this damn building had? What did this mean? Where you going to die in here?

You heard some rustling and then a sigh.

“My phones dead.” He said and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out if he was talking to you or if he just really enjoyed his own voice.

Either way, every statement that left his mouth wasn’t good.

“I guess we have to wait.” He said and you nodded again which, of course, he couldn’t see.

“Okay” you managed to say meekly.

A silence settled between the two of you and it wasn’t one of the good kind. It was rather the “My crush just saw me scratch my ass and pick my nose while farting” kind of silence that made one want to fling oneself out of the nearest window and into certain death.

It was very awkward silence.

You heard the guy clear his throat. “Uhm… Hello.”

Oh shit, he wanted to converse.

You started to hyperventilate for the fifth time in the span of a second before you almost slapped yourself.

Get your shit together, (Y/N). It’s a conversation. You can do this. Remember? You had plenty of conversations in your life!

But how should you answer? ‘Hello’ would sound too stiff. ‘Hi’ would sound like you were best friends and you didn’t even know this guy. But going back to Hello would signal to him that you wanted to talk which you actually didn’t. Meaning you wanted to have a conversation with him because it seemed to calm you down but you didn't want to be trapped in the social construct of a conversation and then accidentally make it really awkward and end up trapped in a long awkward silence knowing that he would judge you for the whole time you two were trapped in there. You really didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of someone who might be the last person to see you alive.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want to talk.” He said slowly and he sounded so unnervingly calm.

“Yes. I mean No. I mean No I- I mean I don’t want to talk. I mean I don't want not to talk- Ugh. I WANT to talk but I tried to negate it twice and it came out sounding like I didn’t want to talk when in fact I do.” You said and you mentally slapped yourself for that.

Great thinking, (Y/N). No more freestyle-conversation for you until you learn how to act like a person, you moron.

Suddenly you heard him chuckle at that before he started to laugh as quietly as he could. It seemed very sincere and gave you the more reason to slam your head against the wall. But you didn’t.

“Don’t worry, I get it.” he said and you wondered if he was lying.

“What’s your name?” he asked and you blurted out “Nineteen.”

A second passed.

“Your name is Nineteen?” he asked, genuinely concerned.

“No. I-I am nineteen years old. My name is (Y/N). I don’t know why but I thought you asked for my age because everyone here asks for my age first since this is actually just a summer job, you know and yeah.” you said. 

You didn’t know why you were still alive right now.

“Oh, cool. You got a summer job here?” He continued as if he still thought you were a sane person and you were very grateful for that.

“Y-Yeah. There was this representative at my college and I won the contest for a ‘summer job’. Depending on how I do, I might even get a permanent job offer for when I’m done with college.” You said. 

Your feet were hurting you and as if he could hear your thoughts you heard him sit down on the dirty elevator-floor before you could even ask yourself if it was okay for you to do so.

“Oh yeah, I heard of that. Congratulations, by the way.” His voice came from his sitting position. There was a smile in his voice and a sincerity you haven’t heard in a long time from someone else.

“Thank you.” You said, mimicking him and sitting down too. Your foot bumped against his when you tried to stretch your legs so you immediately pulled them back and just crossed your legs.

“What’s your name?” you asked, seemingly way calmer than before.

There was a moment of hesitation before he answered.

“Tim.” He said and you silently nodded.

“Hi, Tim.” You said and he let out a short chuckle.

“Hi (Y/N).”

“Do you think we are going to die here?” you asked.

“Okay, that escalated quickly.” He mumbled more to himself before you heard him continue.

“No. This building is very safe. The only thing worrying me is why our phones didn’t work. Mine is always charged and the backup generators should work anyways unless someone turned them off on purpose.”

You knew his words were supposed to be aimed at you but somewhere in the middle of it, he seemed to be talking to himself again. You still continued to listen.

“Well, my phone was low on battery anyway.” You said and he stopped at that for a moment.

“Mine was fully charged.” He said.

A pause.

“When did it turn off?” he asked and something in his voice made you answer it immediately.

“The same second the lights went out.” you said and even you realized how weird that sounded. There was still a little bit of battery left, a text message couldn’t possibly drain that much energy at once.

He was quiet for some time.

“What... does that mean?” you asked hesitantly.

“I don’t know yet, but it's not a good sign.” He said before he quickly added. “I still think we are safe here. Its probably a robbery of some kind and the energy will be back as soon as they are done.” He assured you and you didn’t believe a word he said.

“Bullshit.” You said forcefully in his direction.

“If what you just implied was true and someone messed with the energy enough to turn both our phones off at the top of the building then that’s definitely not a normal robbery. It's probably something bigger. Like super-villain big. So stop lying to me.”

You let your words hang in the air between the two of you and you just wished you could see his expression right now.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said after a while and you were surprised that he didn’t try to lie his way out of this.

“I didn’t want to worry you because you already seemed pretty freaked out.” He explained and you could understand that.

“Fair point.” You said and you both fell into your own thoughts again as the silence started.

“Hey, Tim?” You spoke after a while, which felt like an eternity. “Is Tim short for something? Like Timothy? Or Timotheus? Or is it just Tim?” you asked, hoping he wouldn’t ask why you would voice such a stupid question.

“Timothy.” He said and you could swear could hear him laugh but he didn’t make a sound. “But I prefer Tim.”

“Oh, so Timothy, like the Wayne one.” You said. “Or was it Drake-Wayne? Was it just Drake? Like the rapper? Shoot, Maybe I should know this since I'm working here. I hope they don’t quiz me on this or else it would really be embarrassing. I don’t even know how many children Mr. Wayne has. Is there like a chart or something?? They don’t quiz the employees here, do they?” you talked yourself into panic again.

“No. They definitely don’t.” he stated calmly and you were sure he was making fun of you.

“I mean they shouldn’t… It’s a weird thing to ask someone. And if someone does, just shoot a random number and make something up. That's what I like to do, anyway.” He said and you nodded, making a mental note of that.

“Right.” You said.

“You get anxious really easily.” Tim broke the silence absentmindedly.

“Yeah, It’s the Anxiety.” You shot back and it made him laugh again.

“Yeah, I figured. It was like my second guess.” He said and you smiled.

“Second? What was your first guess then?”

“The first was that you’re secretly the criminal responsible for this. Maybe your escape plan had failed and now that you’re trapped here with a civilian your cover is about to be blown.” 

You would lie if you said you wouldn’t like to hear the rest of this story.

“Wow.” You said. “That’s… very specific…. Su- Suspiciously specific.” You said, letting that sink in.

“Are you trying to tell me something with this, Timothy?” Was that even his real name?

“No.” The pause before he spoke was way too long for your comfort.

Way too long.

“And please call me Tim.”

“I’m curious now. Was there like… a third theory you had?” you licked your dry lips in nervousness.

“Yeah. That you’re nervous because of me.”

“Well, I certainly am now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah really. You could be a murderer for all I know. I mean you are so calm while we're stuck here, that kinda screams psychopath. And your name is Timothy. I dunno, there are a lot of red flags here.” You rambled on, not even sure yourself if you’re joking or not. But you mostly were.

“Hey, whats wrong with Timo-“

Suddenly you felt the elevator drop an inch and you almost pissed yourself.

Then the lights flickered and there was suddenly light illuminating the elevator.

“Oh, the lights are back on.” He said, looking up before he stood up again, pressing the emergency button. There was a voice that came from the speakers above and you registered him saying something but you didn’t really catch what he was saying as you just kept staring at him like a deer caught in headlights.

It was him.

Timothy Drake-Wayne.

FUCK.

It was him all along.

What the fuck did you say to him?

You were sure you insulted him at least three times in the span of this conversation and he didn’t even say a word! And looking at him now he sure looked a lot more handsome than he did in the papers and he was your boss in some kind of way, no, he was the boss of your bosses boss and you just called him a murderer and you would probably be kicked out the next thing right now and you wouldn’t even mind because why the fuck did you have to run your mouth like this?!?

“This might take a while. So, where were we?” he asked, letting himself slide down before glancing at you again.

“Right. I was possibly a psychopath.”

“I am so so so sorry.” Your face exploded in all shades of red as you pressed your lips together, avoiding his eyes at all cost.

“What for?” he chuckled with a lopsided smile. “I mean the name thing was kinda rude and I honestly want to know whats wrong with my name but you were just being honest.” He shrugged and you kind of wished the elevator would plunge to you to death. “Not many people here tell me that to my face.”

“Yeah, but it was only because I couldn’t see your face!”

“Why? Whats wrong with my face now?”

“Nothing! Its ridiculously stunning and it belongs to the guy owning this damn elevator.” You almost cursed.

“Bruce Wayne owns it.” He corrected you and he seemed surprised by your choice of words. “... and thanks?”

“You’re his son.” You retorted.

“Adoptive son.”

“Same thing.”

At that he paused, looking at the corner of the elevator. “No. Not according to some people.”

You stopped mid-thought.

“Oh.” You said, not knowing what else to say. 

But you had already shot yourself in the leg once, so why not reload?

“But why should it matter what other people think? It’s not their decision to make how you feel towards someone. Or what your relationship with them is.” You looked at your hands, fumbling with your fingers as you felt his eyes on you.

“Sometimes… biological parents… aren’t good.” you added.

Your heart was beating and you knew he was watching you but he didn’t say a word. He just listened to you, waiting for you to speak out what you were thinking. What you were implying.

You weren’t sure if you could.

“Are yours?” he asked and it felt like a little nudge. Soft but present. Like a calm hand on your shoulder, encouraging you to make the step.

What was it with him? How could he make you feel so calm with just his voice? With just his presence?  With this look in his eyes that you didn’t even have to see.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m eighteen..” You said. “It shouldn’t matter”

“Maybe it shouldn’t,” he said. His knees were up and his arms rested on them, crossed. He didn’t look like the co-owner of a company. He just looked like a guy with a lot on his mind. And lusciously messy hair. “But it does.”

Suddenly you heard a sound and both of you looked at your phones.

“My phone is on again... And its fully charged?” you said in confusion before he confirmed that his was too.

You both started to type away as you opened your friend's Messages.

Did you die again? HELLOOOOOOO?? You can’t insult my eyebrows and then JUST LEAVE ?!?!? What the fuck is wrong with you?? You know how insecure I am about this

There was a string of other nonsensical messages but you decided to reply immediately before the power went out again.

Stuck in an elevator. Power and phone went off. Just turned on again Still stuck And your eyebrows are shit

You smiled as you saw the bubble pop up, indicating that she was typing.

OKAY, FIRST OF ALL HOW DARE YOU? Second of all Are you okay? Did you call for help? Are you alone? Should I call and keep you company?

You quickly glanced over at Tim, as he seemed to be texting someone too, a slight frown on his face before you looked back at your phone.

Nope, not alone

A pause.

And who’s there with you??

You typed.

Theres a guy with me

Old or cute?

Second  And why are these the only two options?

You only realized how true this was when you typed it out. You were definitely attracted to him. Of course, you couldn’t fall for a cute barista or someone else. No, It had to be untouchable people like Batgirl and Bruce Wayne’s freaking son.

At least you weren’t aiming low.

What kind of cute?

Tim Drake

Since when is that a measurement in your book? I mean I won’t complain. He’s cute?

No It’s him.

???

The guy. In the Elevator. With me. Is him.

There was a long pause in which she didn’t even type and you were afraid that she had placed her phone down before you saw the bubble pop up.

Use protection.

You closed your eyes in resignation.

I’m going to slap you

Well, whats the problem?

I insulted him... I think?

Of course you did

I mean it

Thats the problem

Are you going to help me or be useless?

I dunno… My eyebrows are still hurt

JENNIFER

Whoa we’re busting ot the full names now? Heavy.

I’m not good at this?

Good at what?

Talking

I know

Jen...

Seriously, what are you trying to do? Apologize? What am I supposed to help you here with?? Give a girl something to work with!

You thought about your reply for a moment before typing it up.

Flirt?

You died just typing that up.

“I got some good and some bad news,” Tim said.

His voice ripped you out of your thought and you almost dropped the phone in a panic, afraid that he could read what you had just written. You placed it display-down on your lap, blushing.

“W-what?” you asked as you looked at him.

“Well, the good news is that there was a power outage and in the whole city. Something like a force-field-thing but we don’t know more.”

You blinked.

“Why is that good news?” you asked, confused.

“It means nobody targeted this building specifically. We are safe. Locked up but safe.”

Somehow, that made sense. But only in Gotham.

“And the bad news?” you asked.

“There is a lot happening right now and we might be stuck in here for a while because there are other emergencies that happened.” he explained carefully and you nodded.

That meant you would spend some time with him in here.

You glanced at your phone to see what your friend had answered.

Show him your tits

You blocked her.

“You look angry.” You noted, lying on the floor with his jacket underneath your head. He had insisted you take it and you learned how stubborn he could be.

“’M not.” He said absentmindedly while frowning at his phone.

“You sure do.” You said. He probably wasn’t even listening to you.

“Nope.” He said casually.

“Yupp.”

“No.”

“Ye-hes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Stop it.”

“Nope.”

This was fun.

“Who are you texting?” you asked, bored out of your mind. It looked like he was doing something very important and you asked yourself if he was a workaholic. Or maybe he just enjoyed someone else's company more than yours?

Were you that boring?

“My brother.” He said, glancing over at you for a moment with a quick smile and suddenly you felt reassured again.

Damn, he was good.

“Hm.” You just said, not knowing how to answer to that.

“Why did you stop texting?” he asked, still typing away and you turned your head to him.

“What do you mean?” you asked confused.

“When your phone worked again you were texting with someone. And then you stopped.” he stated curiously and you realized that it was a main trait of his. Curiosity.

“My best friend.” You said, circling your finger over your phone that was laying on your stomach.

“But she’s being obnoxious again.” You finished drawing your circles and started drawing them in the other direction.

“How come?”

It was such a simple question but he seemed genuinely interested. At the same time, he wasn’t even looking at you and was typing on his screen. You didn’t know what to make of it.

Talk about mixed signals.

“She’s trying to set me up on blind dates and … she really doesn’t have the slightest clue what my type is.”

You paused a moment and he looked at you, fully.

“Jesus, that sounded stuck-up.” You realized horrified. “W-what I meant is that I don’t even know if I have a type myself and I didn’t mean it in a physical appearance-wise way but its just really uncomfortable when you sit with someone and try to talk to him and its just obvious they are here to hook up with your friend and not interested to talk to you, at all. You know?” You said, squinting up at the ceiling of the elevator, wondering why you just told him that. Why should he care?

Maybe it was the sleep deprivation.

You would probably regret this a lot tomorrow.

“Why... don’t you just tell her no?”

It sounded so simple when he said it.

Because she always agrees first and then it’s my fault when I cancel.

Because she is a little bit manipulative like that sometimes.

Because she keeps playing the victim whenever I do.

There where so many replies you could’ve given him but you didn’t. Instead, you sighed.

“Because I’m a pushover.” you said, and it rang true to you.

“You don’ sound like one.” He said, unsure of how to word it. “Or at least you don’t seem like one.”

“Thanks, guy who knows me for like two hours. At least that means I can fake dominance?”

He clicked his tongue.

“Yeah, ‘dominance’ is maybe a bit far-fetched,” he mumbled.

“Oh, shut up, Timothy.”

“I would really appreciate it f you would stop calling me that.”

“Why? What's wrong with Timothy?”

  “Maybe we should start recording diary entries to keep track of the days that had passed? In case someone finds us too late?”

You had taken off your shoes and his head rested on your bag. He had rolled up his sleeves and his tie was gone and it was seriously dangerous for you to look at him right now.

Somehow being stuck with him for 4 hours fo far made him seem so much more human than you would’ve ever imagined. This wasn’t the rich business-boy you heard of. This was fidgety, curious and sassy Tim. The elevator Tim.

“Jokes on you, I already made seven entries so far. Currently on entry eight, pondering about the symbolism of the elevator.” His Phone was gone and he was staring at the blinking lights with you. Occasionally closing his eyes as he seemed to be just as tired as you were.

In a normal setting you would’ve never been caught dead in such a position but somehow you stopped caring around the first hour that had passed. Social construct couldn’t harm you here anymore. It was a surreal plane of existence.

“Maybe the lights are the light that leads us to the afterlife?” you theorized and you saw him grin at that.

“And the buttons symbolize the levels of hell?” he added

“Heaven and hell.” You corrected.

“We’re somewhere on the top floor. What does that mean?”

You thought about it.

“That Satan and God are fighting for custody and god is winning?” you improvised on the spot.

He let out a laugh.

“Great. I’m gonna get adopted again.”

At that, you burst out laughing.

  “Why do you carry so many chocolate-bars in your bag? Did you raid a vending machine or something?” Tim looked at you, deeply concentrated as he took a bite from one of them.

“Pff, Because I always am prepared for being stranded on a deserted island like in Cast Away, duh.” You said, mockingly.

“And chocolate bars would be your number one priority in such a case?” he raised an eyebrow, crunching at the chocolate-chip one.

“What would be yours, Mr. Know-it-all?” you asked

“Water. Water and shelter, obviously.”

“Yeah, but I can’t exactly carry around a freaking tent with me everywhere.” You chuckled.

“Pff you could. With the right amount of dedication.” He smiled.

“People would think I’m paranoid.”

“A small price for survival, (Y/N).”

“Guess I’ll just die then?” you shrugged.

“Yeah …. Please don’t.”

He smiled weakly but there was something in his voice you couldn’t decipher.

  “Oh, that’s easy.” Tim said, eyes determined.

“I would kill Robin, Marry Nightwing and fuck Red Robin.” He said and you chuckled at the speed of which he answered that question.

“What did Robin ever do to you?”

“Do I have to answer this?” he asked dramatically.

“No, but why marry Nightwing? I want to know your thoughts behind it.”

“He seems like someone you could trust?” he motioned the usual ‘I don’t know’ motion and you accepted it.

“I’m not gonna question the Red Robin part.” You assured him and it seemed to pique his interest.

“Why not? Is it like….. a common thing to want?” he sounded almost worried and definitely confused.

“Well not that I know... but he seems like a loveable dork.” You chuckled. “He saved me once.”

“He… did?” He asked.

“Yeah. I almost walked into traffic once while I was distracted, long story, and he just pulled me back while swinging by and yelled ‘PAY ATTENTION’ and then he slammed against a building.” You laughed softly at the memory. “I felt so guilty for it but he was already gone before I could apologize.”

Tim went silent after that.

“If we ever get out of here, I want to eat a triple cheeseburger. Not the tiny ones. I’m talking about the ones that are as big as my face. The ones you could feed a small family with for three days, you know?”

You were hungry. 

There was more hunger than a few chocolate bars and some bubblegum could satisfy. Maybe it was also just the fantasy of being free and sitting in a fast food joint and stuffing your face that intensified that wish.

You wanted out of there and the need to get up and run was getting stronger and stronger with every passing minute. But at the same time, you wanted to stay and keep talking with him.

He gave you a kind of attention you’ve been desperately waiting and searching for and a part of you felt guilty that maybe he was forced to do so since he had nowhere else to go right now. But it felt so natural and sincere whenever he did that you wished it would never end.

When you didn’t get a response from him you turned your head, only to see him staring back at you. He immediately looked away.

“Y-yeah, me too.” He quickly said and you asked yourself what that look just now was supposed to mean.

  You opened your eyes, blinking at the bright light in the room.

Where were you?

Oh right, you were still trapped.

And you had fallen asleep.

Fuck.

You looked over at Tim, who was sitting up again.

You blushed deeply in embarrassment before you sat up too.

“Oh, you’re awake.” Tim looked at you again with a smile.

“Yeah … Uhm… How long was I gone?” you asked, hesitantly and you watched him look at his phone.

“About an hour.”

Your heart dropped.

“Oh. Thanks.” You couldn’t even believe you had the nerve to fall asleep in a situation like this but you were apparently tired enough to do so.

“What did I miss?” you asked and you definitely noticed how he hesitated and avoided your eyes.

“Your friend called.” He said. “And …. She sounded angry.”

Your heart dropped.

“You picked up??” you asked in disbelieve. What did she say to him?? Oh Dear Lord, please let her have shut her big mouth just once for this time, PLEASE.

“I- I really didn’t mean to pick up! But she called seven times and your phone wasn’t muted and when I wanted to mute it I saw her text of how worried she was and…” he trailed off and it was almost a little bit comforting to see him talk in a frenzy instead of you.

“What did she say?” you asked, having your mental fingers crossed and hoping for the best.

“Nothing much. She kept yelling and when I finally got a word in she hung up.” he said and you never felt more relieved than before.

 “Are you shitting me? That’s what he did??” you couldn’t contain yourself in laughter as you heard the story he had just told you. It made you feel a dozen times better about the ones you had told him before.

“Yeah. Bruce banned spoons after that. Except for the kitchen and dining room, of course.”

You laughed at that, even letting out a snort as you couldn’t contain it.

“No wonder he always looks so tired in all the pictures.” You chuckled.

“Besides that, I still can’t believe you have a dining room. One that you actually use.” You added.

Tim looked away and you had learned in the short time here with him that it meant he wasn’t quite comfortable with that topic.

“Yeah, comes with the job I guess?”

“How often do you guys just … you know, play hide and seek? Or Tag? Do you ever feel tempted?”

Tim chuckled.

“We did, once. We aren’t allowed to do that anymore. We lost Damian for two days and didn’t tell Bruce...” he trailed off.

You laughed again and you didn’t notice how much he seemed to enjoy that sound.

“I don't even want to know how you guys did that.” You said, grinning at the hilarity of it all.

“I’m not even sure I’m allowed to tell you, anyway.” He replied. You glanced over at him, opening your mouth to say something when you both heard a voice from outside. 

You both looked at the door from where the sound came.

It was the rescue workers. And suddenly a timer started to run down in your head that you didn’t know you would start to detest.

It was only a matter of time till this would end.

The men outside started the whole ‘Are you safe’ spiel and you heard Tim answer some of the questions. The only thing you could focus on was what the man had said.

“You’ll be out in 15 to 20 minutes.”

15 to 20 minutes.

That was by far not enough time.

Was it selfish of you to want to sit here with him and keep talking? Listening to his past shenanigans and the way he laughed when you told him yours? The way his brows creased when he was thinking or the completely surprised expression of his when you delivered a good comeback to his sassy remarks?

You probably shouldn’t feel this way anyways.

Wasn’t he technically your boss?

Even though he had told you that he really didn’t like it when you talk to him like he was this big shot, it still didn't change the fact that he was.

Or maybe it was your way of pushing him away? Your way of justifying why he would never be interested in you in this way.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Tim looked down at you and you honestly didn't know how to answer that. You sat up, hearing the workers trying to open the doors as you glanced at the jacket your head was lying on a second ago.

“This is going to sound stupid…” you said, already throwing the idea out of the window until you saw his face. It was concerned, almost worried and a little bit curious.

“Try me.” He said, encouragingly.

“I’m .. gonna miss this.” You said eyes averted to your shoes. The courage he had given you was gone and you wished you could take all that back.

“Being locked in?” he asked and you looked up at him, ready to tell him how stupid that question just was when you saw his smile. He understood.

You two shared a look.

“You know..” he started after a moment. “There is this place, a few blocks from here, that has really good burgers… At least I heard so.”

You chuckled.

“Oh, really? Even cheeseburgers?”

“Yupp. The big ones.”

“Sounds tempting.”

A heartbeat passed.

“Would you want to go with me?”

You thought about it.

“Like as newly formed friends or as a date?”

“Definitely a date.” he paused. “O-only if you want to.”

You could barely contain your smile as you heard the door crack open.

“I would love to.”

[hoodlessmads]

I’m Caught Up With Bloom Into You

Gosh, where do I even begin with this series?

I watched the first episode, and by the end, honestly, I thought it was going to be pretty dumb. Cute! But dumb. And I do love me some dumb cute precious romance.

But W O W that’s not what Yagakimi is. It successfully pulls of an excellent bait-and-switch on the reader/viewer not just once but twice--the first is at the end of the first episode (the part where I assumed it was going to be kind of cheesy and dumb), and the second around halfway through the anime series. The first one is basically the premise of the story, so it doesn’t really count as a bait-and-switch unless you go in blind like I did. But the second one takes all of the reader/viewer’s expectations up to that point and turns it on its head. And even beyond that scene, the entire series is chock full of moments that demolish your expectations for what direction the story is taking and who the characters are. Every single chapter I felt like I was being thrown for a loop, and learning something unexpected and new about the characters. Even up to the most recent damn chapter I feel like I have no idea what Nakatani-sensei is going to throw at us. And all of this is me making a point that this manga is DEEP.

I could talk at length about how gorgeous the anime is, how well-directed certain scenes are, how incredible the Japanese voice acting was (didn’t see the dub, but if anyone can carry Touko’s emotional range it’s the fabulous Luci Christian so I’m sure it’s decent), or how much I stan Michiru Ooshima. It was a great adaptation and I sincerely can’t wait for Season 2. But I’m not going to talk much about that. Instead I just need to talk about the story (the manga).

(spoilers up through Chapter 39)

You know what one of the many great things about Yagakimi is? In spite of the fact that it deals with same-gender relationships and queer issues, and while it does periodically address those issues, they’re actually not the primary focus of the characters or their struggles. From day one, Yuu is much less concerned about Touko being a girl than she is about her own inability to feel anything towards her (supposedly). And that’s not to say that those issues are ignored, like they are in some anime of this particular genre. The characters don’t live in a paradisiacal vacuum where being gay in Japan isn’t a problem and everyone around them is magically super accepting. Yuu’s sister is incredibly sweet and accepting (I love her), but her dad makes casual homophobic comments. Even after Touko initially confesses to Yuu, Yuu brushes it off as something she “probably doesn’t have to worry about” because they’re both girls, and it’s weird. Riko Hakazaki has to hide from her students, coworkers, and workplace, that she’s living with her girlfriend, because it could cause legitimate problems for her if they knew. During Sayaka’s first lesbian relationship, when she is still figuring herself out, her own girlfriend tells her that it’s “just a phase” and that she’s sorry that she “made her” that way. Even much later, when Yuu is conflicted about how she should confess her feelings to Touko, her sister Rei immediately assumes (understandably so) that she’s conflicted because of the whole gay thing. Rei starts worrying about how the family will react, if they will be accepting and supportive of her sister. Little does she know, being gay is the least of Yuu’s problems at that point.

But is being gay and the societal backlash that comes with it really that inconsequential to Yuu’s story? Yuu Koito struggles to develop romantic or sexual feelings for anyone. She exhibits clear signs of depression--intense apathy, emotional repression, struggles to find genuine joy in anything. A lot of people have posited even that she exhibits signs of sexual repression specifically. And this is one of the core conversations we can have about Yuu’s character. How much of her “inability to love” is because she is legitimately somewhere on the ace spectrum, perhaps demisexual (she develops feelings after getting to know someone, to put it simply)? And how much of it is her unconsciously repressing her own feelings (perhaps homosexual) for her entire life, resulting in a scenario where even she doesn’t know how to get them back? There isn’t a clear answer here. No one knows. Yuu doesn’t even know. And that’s the point!

The characters. Are so. Good. Yuu, Touko, and Sayaka are the obvious powerhouses here, all three of them multi-layered people that I can and will analyze at length. But Yagakimi doesn’t sleep on the minor characters either. Yuu and Touko don’t exist in a vacuum. From Yuu’s sister and her boyfriend to Maki, the juxtaposing aromantic and asexual friend and ally, to Yuu’s surprisingly likable best friends, to Hakozaki-sensei and her girlfriend Miyako, to even Dojima. Everyone matters. Everyone gets their own little storyline. I’m tempted to be reminded of Kimi ni Todoke and the brilliant way it handled its side characters here. Although Bloom Into You is much shorter than KnT, and therefore has a lot less time to develop those side characters and relationships, it still provides them with their own layers, their own problems, their own mini-spotlights. And it makes me care about every single one. Riko and Miyako’s cute ass and wholesome adult love story, Akari’s dumb doomed crush on basketball senpai, Koyomi’s dreams of becoming an author and her infatuation with a certain idol of hers, Maki’s experiences as a contented bystander. I adore and welcome it.

Let’s talk about Touko Nanami before this gets any longer than it needs to be. To be honest, I have a type when it comes to characters, and it’s the ones that are suicidal and hate themselves, probably because I relate to that stuff more than anything (though I also relate to Yuu’s apathetic brand of depression). This character. This character. One of the things I love most about her is how consistently the reader is lured into thinking they know her, and then consistently proven wrong. (I think we share this experience with Yuu.) It takes episodes, chapters, volumes to slowly chip away at the layers and layers of personality we’re given before we finally arrive at the truly heartbreaking core, which is a girl with a fractured identity and deep, deep self-loathing that defies all logic. And it’s because it defies all logic that it’s so scary. Because that kind of self-hatred doesn’t just go away. You can’t just fix it. It’s there to stay, and it’s not just your friendly neighborhood self-hatred--painful, but an otherwise harmless roommate. It’s actually dangerous, and it has the power to destroy Touko’s relationships with others and even destroy herself. (The scene in the anime where she stands in front of the railroad tracks and almost takes a step forward, thus nearly giving me a heart attack, comes to mind.) It defies logic, so there’s no logical way to beat it, either. And it’s not just the self-loathing that gets me and makes my heart hurt for her; it’s the loss of oneself, the lack of one’s identity as an individual. The loss of on’s own sense of self, especially at such a young and vulnerable age, is debilitating. Touko is really good at wearing that super serene smile, but when the chips are down, nothing is going to stand in the way of her and what essentially amounts to obliterating herself from existence. Not even Yuu. And then we come to her crippling fear of being loved by anyone, which is an aspect of self-hatred that probably doesn’t get enough acknowledgment. She hates herself to the point that the thought of someone loving her, which should make her happy, actually hurts. How fucked is that.

But I never gave Touko enough credit. To be honest, in chapter 34 when Yuu (finally) confesses, I was expecting her reaction to be really bad. Like, really bad. I was expecting a shitshow, a blowout of their relationship (temporarily of course). I was expecting basically what Yuu thinks that she got. And for that one page, I swear I felt my heart forcibly ripped from my chest. But then I read the next page and was surprised to see just how much she’s changed over the course of the series, how unexpectedly maturely she took the confession and examined her own feelings afterwards, how quickly (and once again, maturely) she deduced that she’d been making Yuu suffer. It makes me appreciate their relationship even more than I did before, and it makes me want to root for them. (Not that I wasn’t already.) The chapters just keep getting better and better from here on, I swear.

Sayaka deserves her own post, but the queen has her own novel series at least. Sayaka could SO EASILY have been that bitch. Nakatani could have created this rival love interest who treated Yuu like shit and was a possessive asshole and just stopped there. But instead, we got Sayaka, who ends up being one of the best and most well-developed characters. And in the many many times where I was calling Yuu and Touko “you dumb bitch,” Sayaka was there, the smartest and most honest of the three by far, which was refreshing. Her backstory is utterly heartbreaking, her love for Touko touching as hell, and her rise from the ashes, so to speak, is inspiring. Fuck that senpai. Sayaka isn’t even that mean to Yuu, on top of it all. I mean, she can be kind of snippy. And understandably so. But they actually end up surprisingly getting along? I am shook to my core. Sayaka’s growth is one of the greatest sights to behold in this series. Her friendship with Touko isn’t sidelined in favor of Touko’s relationship with Yuu--far from it. Sayaka provides her own unique support and sparks Touko’s development in a way that Yuu never could. Their friendship is crucial. By the time Sayaka FINALLY confesses, I was so god damn proud of her and her bravery, I swear I could have cried. While Yuu was busy being in practiced denial for 40 chapters, Sayaka was OUT THERE learning to be completely up front and honest with herself and others about her feelings. (Not to knock on Yuu, because she has her own arc to go through to get there.) That whole fucking scene where they’re both just sobbing about shit afterwards Got Me.

Ugh. It’s been an emotional few days. I’m really glad I decided to start watching that first episode, because this entire series has been a series of pleasant surprises. This is a good anime, ya’ll. It’s a good character study. It’s a good love story. It’s a good gay love story. It’s all of those things. You could literally talk forever about all the nuances of this story and characters and all the things that make it as good as it is. This long ass post just brushes the surface. For now, I’m anxiously (ANXIOUSLY) awaiting chapter 40. If you know, you know.

[nautilusopus]

sorry this is a lot but I enjoy your opinions. G, P, U, W, X, Z

G - Have you ever had an OTP? If so, do you remember your first one? Who was in it?

Nah. I’m aggressively boring and uninvested in general in most romances so I usually just go with whatever’s canon and call it a day.

The closest thing I got to ever shipping in the past was being mildly surprised that people saw Link and Zelda as an item in Twilight Princess because they don’t really talk much in that game (they have maybe two conversations? Three if we count any presumed dialogue they might’ve had during the last boss battle when they’re on a horse together). I wouldn’t say I’m actually invested in it one way or another though. Link didn’t really have much of a personality until Wind Waker came along. 

P - Invent a random AU for any fandom (we always need more ideas).

FFXV AU where Noctis asks literally any questions at all about anything and interacts with the plot as an active participant in it instead of a copypasted emotional beat from FFX and thus doesn’t die at the end due to lazy writer caveat. (spoilers i guess) 

I am so so so so tempted to write this and the urge has been growing stronger over the last few weeks. I imagine fans of XV wouldn’t be too thrilled I’m writing fanfic specifically because I hate everything about XV, but y’all keep circulating posts about how writing fanfic to fix canon is totally valid!!! so I fully expect everyone to walk the walk after talking the talk. 

On another note, AU where Cloud never actually makes it to Midgar after Zack gets filled with lead, thus never meeting Tifa at and least screwing his head on semi-straight, and just wanders around in the wilderness as a weird amnesiac murderhobo in a perpetual fugue state. Hijinks ensue I guess.

Shit, I should write that. 

And now I have 48 fics queued. Look at what you’ve done. Are you proud of yourself?

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

alright let’s get the obvious one out of the way

Cloud because I used to fucking despise him and over time he really grew on me after I was exposed to his genuinely moving character arc and narrative that actively trampled every expectation I had about what it would be. Dumb asshole that unabashedly loves his friends, which is something that you rarely if ever see in other protagonists of his mould which is why it infurates me as much as it does when people (Square or the fanbase, it’s annoying either way) try to downplay it. That was one of the things that made him unique and compelling in the first place and you’re actively discarding it? Fuck you. 

It’s genuinely refreshing to see someone try as hard as they can and fail catastrophically in every possible respect, and then that’s just the result and he has to come terms with that pain as something shaping who he was instead of just learning a lesson and then getting over it. There are a lot of matter-of-fact moments like that with regards to loss and pain in VII but Cloud’s arc actually took one of said moments and made it extremely cathartic. 

I have a lot of fukken feelings about Cloud, man. That character analysis essay is officially four years old and the ETA on it is “whenever I guess”.

Azula from ATLA. I mean, I adore basically everyone in that series so I don’t even know which one I’d call my favourite, but I do think I ought to highlight Azula since a lot of who she is kinda gets overlooked. She’s like a family-friendly Eva character. 

It’s genuinely fascinating to watch her break down, and on a second rewatch you can sort of tell which beats fell into place where. Ironically, she considers Zuko the “favoured child”, and part of the reasons she utterly despises/loves/despises him as much as she does is because she tries to earn his approval in her own weird, sociopathic way. Then, when he inevitably bails, he not only rejects her, he goes and shacks up with even more people that consciously chose to love him, and for all her talent, after all her hard work, all she has is Ozai, who’s probably never loved anything in his life. The unfairness of it all. 

The breakdown she has at the end isn’t even anything new, really. It’s just the first time other people get to see it. 

Speaking of Eva, Shinji. DISCLAIMER: YES SHINJI MASTURBATED TO COMPLETION OVER ASUKA’S COMATOSE BODY IN A BLATANT DISPLAY OF NOT ONLY HIS GENERAL DISLIKE AND FEAR OF WOMEN BUT IN AN EXPRESSION OF HIS REFUSAL TO PROJECT AFFECTION ONTO PEOPLE BECAUSE PEOPLE CAN REJECT HIM, PREFERRING TO SEE ASUKA AS A PERSON-SHAPED OBJECT INSTEAD. THERE I HAVE ACKNOWLEDGED THE PROBLEMATIQUE ™ BIT NOW. CAN I LIKE THIS CHARACTER YET?

Shinji and Cloud have a lot of the same character arc, as I’ve mentioned probably more than a few times because I repeat myself a lot. Where Cloud is a more optimistic take on defining oneself on one’s own terms and as a result accepting that they can be someone worthy of love, Shinji’s side of that concept is waaaaaaaaaaay more cynical, in that Shinji kind of… doesn’t learn to do that in the end. Refuses to, in fact, to the point where it gets everyone killed. Also Kaworu is Zack if Zack actually had character development and if C//la/ck was actually canon. Where Cloud overcomes his fear of rejection by learning he is deserving of existence on his own merits, otherwise why would he have people that care about him in the first place, Shinji is crippled by it and spends most of the series screaming at anything that remotely resembles responsibility. For a guy that repeatedly tells himself “I mustn’t run away” his reaction to everything is almost exclusively to run away. 

Now, I’m not necessarily implying that if things had gone worse, Cloud might have masturbated to completion over Tifa’s comatose body, but like… I’m just saying.

(Though Aeris and Tifa were admittedly a lot more stable than poor Asuka or Rei ever were, as low of a bar as that may be.)

In case it wasn’t obvious, I clearly have a Type. And that type is a maladjusted child soldier screaming VALIDATE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE from the top of the lightpole they climbed up to avoid their feelings, and they all deserve a good hug and a firm shove down a flight of stairs or two, in either order. 

W - A trope which you are virtually certain to hate in any fandom.

Love triangles. If I wanted to see a bunch of assholes do a bunch of petty bickering fueled by hormones and poor communication and pitting two people against one another for extremely asinine reasons, I’d lurk outside a high school. 

X - A trope which you are almost certain to love in any fandom.

Apart from the aforementioned Type ™ I have, people getting overwhelmed by gestures of basic human decency and the implications of that. 

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go! (Prompts optional but encouraged.)

God they did poor Luna so dirty. You could have replaced her with another fucking crystal or something and it would affect the plot about as much. Man, didn’t the selling point for FF used to be its rich, inventive storytelling? 

Come the fuck on, Square, you had female characters figured out in fucking 1992. This isn’t hard. 

[rhoeysama]

So, I was going to write an essay about Nancy Wheeler, self-acceptance and the undue hate that she receives, but it accidentally turned into so much more than that. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share it at all, but seeing as I lost myself in writing this, and it feels like such a big chunk of my soul is in this, I will. I’m rambling about Nancy and Jonathan and getting my thoughts out, and it’s perhaps a bit messy, but I just wanted to share my thoughts on these two characters. Although some of the writing on the show is lacking, in my opinion, and doesn’t do Nancy and Jonathan the justice that I think they deserve, I really like them, and their relationship, and I just want to express that. 

It’s about the concept of self-acceptance and being true to oneself, and about Nancy’s journey to finding herself and how it connects to real life. It’s long and ranty, but if you want, you can read it and hopefully it wasn’t a complete waste of time. :) 

* * * * * * * * 

Nancy was quick to forgive Jonathan for his mistake because she’s a compassionate person. 

She was willing to give Jonathan the benefit of doubt; willing to believe that his heart was in the right place, that he’s not a bad person and didn’t have malicious intent with what he did. He just made a bad decision, at a bad time, when his head wasn’t screwed on just right, after his brother had went missing. And on top of that, he’s only seventeen.

She was genuinely curious about why Jonathan took her picture in the first place. 

“What was I saying [when you took my picture]?” 

She wanted to understand his reasoning behind it (to learn more about him, what's going on inside that head of his, what makes him tick), so much so that she brought it up again later and pressed him for an answer. He didn’t want to answer, because he had already said his sorry and acknowledgment of having overstepped a boundary and been “weird”. And when he finally gave in to her prodding and presented his observation, she became angry. It just happened to be very awkward when it came from a boy who appeared to like her, which is why she tried to chalk it up to him just being jealous of Steve. But that wasn’t the only reason. She got angry because he was right, and she knew it. After all, he wasn't the first person to vocalize that she was trying to be someone she isn’t.

Barbara: “Nance, this isn’t you.”

Dustin (to Mike): “There’s something wrong with your sister. She’s got a stick up her butt. (...) She’s turning into a real jerk. (...) She used to be cool.”

Jonathan (to Nancy): “I saw this girl, trying to be someone else. But in that moment, you were alone, or you thought you were, and you could just be yourself.”

Nancy was changing her behavior and making bad choices to be liked by a boy. But she never wanted to - or tried to - join in on the bullying and mocking of others just to be part of his group and be perceived as “cool”. Steve even pointed this out to Tommy and Carol: “Neither of you cared about her. You never even liked her. Because she’s not miserable like you two, she actually cares about other people.”     

The compassionate Nancy is the real Nancy. The Nancy who cares about others. The Nancy who's willing to listen to someone’s side of a story, and not simply dismiss them and believe the rumors about them instead. The Nancy who’d rather end the suffering of a wounded animal than leave it to die a slow, painful death. The Nancy who’d rather buy bear traps and a can of gasoline and go after and kill a monster than let it claim more victims. The Nancy who puts her own life in danger to get justice for her dead best friend and her parents. The Nancy who dances with the lonely adolescent boy who's crying because nobody wanted to be his dance partner, and cheers him up with words of encouragement. 

That’s the real Nancy Wheeler. 

Not the one who slams doors in other’s faces when they kindly offer her their left over pizza. Not the one who looks on when someone’s property is taken by force and destroyed as revenge. Not the one who tells her best friend - whom she dragged to a party she didn’t want to go to in the first place - to get lost while she goes upstairs to have sex. Not the one who drunkenly calls her boyfriend “bullshit”. 

Being young, especially a teenager, is hard. You have limited experience and knowledge about the world, but plenty of feelings and thoughts and you’re vulnerable and exposed and people can be so cruel, so relentless. Everyone is going through their own life with their own burdens, and deals with it differently. Some bottle it up, some lash out, some bully, some drink and do drugs or party and have plenty of sex to dull the pain. Some, unfortunately, commit suicide. But everybody deals in their own way, and most people wise up, mature, and grow into the people they were always meant to be. Not all, but most. 

And we all have an essence, an authentic self. Someone we were born to be, but the world tried to take it from us. And that is why the way we act when we’re alone is who we truly are. That’s when our walls come down and we drop our masks. 

This is why Jonathan is an interesting character to me. He saw Nancy as something more than she appeared to be. She was a genie in a bottle, and that bottle had become increasingly small as she was growing, but she was still trying to fit, even if it wasn’t in her own best interest. (And Jonathan saw in her what she saw in Will, and what he had told him as well: to just be himself.) 

There are many things we do in private when we’re alone that we would never ever do with others around. I, for instance, talk to myself. A lot. Like, have actual animated, heated debates, complete with all sorts of funny faces and voices, it’s almost like a performance, except I prefer mine not to have an audience. I also sing terrible “opera”, and laugh at myself for how bad it is, because it’s pretty bad, but that’s okay. It’s all in good fun. I also do a lot of voice acting, trying to imitate Eric Cartman, or Rick and Morty or any random Pokemon, but again, it’s awful (but I hear I make a very believable Bulbasaur!). It’s mine, and mine alone, and I’m not willing to share unless I’m 100% comfortable around someone. But it’s something I have accepted, and I’m content with it. It’s all a part of who I am. It’s valid, it’s authentic, it’s weird, it’s human. 

This is everyone. Every single person. And guess what? It’s okay. Because none of us learn how to be human, it’s not like it’s taught in school. Or on TV. And all of us are in this life, trying to figure it all out, and most of us don’t have much to go on except for what we absorb from the culture we happen to find ourselves in. And all that culture has to offer is this checklist of things you’re supposed to have, you’re supposed to do, supposed to be. And that’s not all; there’s a deadline for each of those boxes on the checklist! Also, there’s a shit ton of fine print and legalese, and people who will sneak a peak at your list and ask you why you haven’t checked the boxes yet and ostracize you for it, too. 

Nobody tells you that everyone does that weird or gross thing you’re doing when no one’s watching, except that others have their weird or gross thing while you have yours, and yes, everyone thinks they’re the only one doing it, and if anyone found out, oh dear lord have mercy. That’s why we don’t really talk about these things, either. So we shut up about it, think we’re alone in our weirdness, and try to emulate our surroundings, and everyone’s basically just a bunch of fakers wearing masks and creating these fictional personas of themselves to put out there in the world. It’s a defense mechanism, because people are cruel and judgmental and ruthless. They are ready to tear you down if you don’t behave a certain way, if you don’t fall in line and get with the program. 

People are messy and complicated; LIFE is messy and complicated. Nothing is ever straight-forward or obvious, because even adults don’t always know what to do and don’t always have their lives figured out. Sometimes everything looks idyllic and perfect on the surface, and they have all the boxes checked on their list, but they may still be deeply dissatisfied and unhappy. All of this comes from the lies we tell ourselves: if only I have this and this and this, I will be happy. 

The truth is, it’s the other way around: if you’re not happy and grateful for the things you already have, no amount of things and good happening in your life is ever going to make it any better. 

So, one of the hardest things you can do in life is to accept yourself for who you are, and learn to love yourself, just the way you are. It’s hard, in the face of reality, in which most people don’t share your sentiment, most people don’t like themselves and would much rather NOT accept themselves, and that’s why they won’t accept you as you are, either. Because the way our consumer culture has evolved is by constantly making sure that people feel dissatisfied and unhappy with what they have and who they are, so that they keep on buying more, buying more, consuming, consuming, consuming. And on the other side of the same coin is the religions and politics, the meddling authoritarians on both sides of the spectrum trying to put their ideological shackles on you and keep you in a shoebox (or the “magic lamp”/bottle), when there’s a whole limitless universe out there.

When you’re a teenager, you start waking up to these facts, and it’s ridiculously hard. Coming out of childhood, suddenly realizing what this world is all about. Realizing that there’s so much suffering in the world, and you feel it too, but there’s not much you can do about it. 

But there is, actually. You can start with yourself, and extend kindness to those who need it. Extend kindness to yourself first by not lying to yourself because it’s more convenient. The truth has a tendency to catch up to us, and it will sooner or later, and the longer one waits, the messier it will be. Once you learn to be kind to yourself and ask yourself “Who am I, really? What do I want?”, you will start embracing your true self, even if the journey there will be rough and ugly. You’ll lose friends along the way, and maybe family, too. People will get pissed at you and some will even try to ruin your life and your reputation.   

But no one can learn and grow unless they go for what they truly want, what they hold to be true, push their boundaries, and inevitably hurt others and themselves in the process. If we never do any of these things, our lives will stagnate, nothing will ever happen we get nowhere. When we stop learning, we’re dead. 

Being a teenager is hard, because life is hard. It’s especially hard when you know who you are, and you know that what you want in life, and what you like, and the very essence of your soul does not mesh well with what’s expected of you. 

Jonathan knows who he is, and he’s accepted that he’s a “freak”, and that’s okay. Nancy is still figuring things out, but starting to embrace her true self more, and thankfully she has Jonathan there to help her with that.