#nothing ever happens in my life unless it’s all happening at once apparently

[mrspockify]

Got an internship confirmation yesterday and suddenly learned today that I missed an email from a job I applied to so I emailed back so apologetic and now I also have a call scheduled for an informal interview for THAT tomorrow on top of so many school assignments this week I am so 😵‍💫🤢🫨

[katelynnwrites]

all the luck in the world | lea schüller

warnings: ~

word count: 807

summary: you only believe in luck when it comes to lea

a/n: just a lil lea appreciation blurb

luck is a funny thing.

some people say attribute every good thing that's happened to them to it and while you don't do that, you have never once doubted that in more than one situation, luck had nothing to do with it.

because you worked hard for every good thing you have in your life.

your career's been built on sacrifices and effort. you're at the top because you fought your way there. you're so good at what you do because you chose to be, putting in the work day in and day out to make it happen.

it hadn't been something as random as luck that had made you successful. it had been a little girl with a dream of being a professional footballer who had poured every bit of herself into fulfilling it that did.

your club hadn't noticed you by chance. your country's coach hadn't noticed you because of it either.

as for bad luck, it is simply your belief that unfortunate things just happened. injury comes out of the blue sometimes and there is no way to foresee and therefore prevent it.

for better or for worse, things simply happen.

so really, you don't quite believe in luck.

not unless it comes to the blonde currently lying in your bed.

there is no other way to explain it. you'd admired her for so long, crushed on her for long that it's practically a dream for you to be able to touch her, to kiss her and call her yours.

you have both luck and lena to thank for it.

really, you'd almost given up hope that lea would ever notice your feelings for her when obi succeeded in finally knocking sense into her oblivious best friend's head.

her best friend who had apparently thought she was alone in her less than platonic longing.

the two of you could be considered idiots. idiots with good luck.

but that's all past now because you have lea and lea has you.

the striker has her hair loose, it's spread across your pillow and she is smiling up at you.

it is too tempting of a sight and you can't help whispering, 'you're so pretty.'

very gently, you lean in and brush your lips across hers.

she sighs contentedly into it and you continue to kiss her after briefly drawing back and murmuring, 'so gorgeous.'

your girlfriend melts a little and you take the opportunity to straddle her, lightly brushing strands of hair from her face.

her blue eyes blink and you decide you love the way her eyelashes flutter as she does so.

'absolutely breathtaking.' you state and bring your lips down to meet hers again.

lea lets out a tiny moan and encouraged by it, you begin to kiss your way towards her exposed collarbones.

each time your lips touch her skin, the german woman trembles beneath you. the effect you have on her is intoxicating and she would not have it otherwise.

'baby.' she breathes when place a particularly long kiss on the edge of her collarbone.

you huff a small laugh and kiss her again, your lips trailing further down towards her breasts.

lea's breath audibly catches as you scatter open mouthed kisses onto the sensitive area.

now you only have access to whatever isn't covered by the sports bra she's wearing because the both of you are still in the early stages of your relationship. neither of you are ready for that kind of intimacy yet. soon but not just yet.

for now though, seeing lea's chest rise and fall in an increasingly fast rate because of your ministrations is enough. it gives you your own personal high.

germany's star forward bites her lip as her hands brace themselves on your hips so you check, 'this okay?'

the bayern munich player nods rapidly, 'don't stop. please.'

very happily, you do as she asks.

your girlfriend's skin is soft and the touch of your lips against it elicits sharp gasps and brief whimpers from her.

lea's fingers dig into your waist and you groan her name out loud.

'you're the definition of the word beautiful my love.'

the blonde's mouth parts slightly and she flushes from her face all the way down to her chest.

'okay.' she breathes shyly.

'and so amazingly talented too. we wouldn't have gotten this far in the competition without you.' you add.

ever humble, the striker starts to protest but you grin and move to kiss her senseless once more, effectively shutting her up.

it's not often that the both of you can get some time alone while with the national team, especially when competing at a big tournament like the olympics.

so you are going to make the absolute best out of the precious time that you have, while your pretty pretty girlfriend's here in your bed.

[pluckyredhead]

Ngl do you think the relationship between Arthur and Garth has anything to do with how often at the time adopted children were and are considered not as “real” as biological children? Especially because the whole nuclear family BS. Not saying that’s all of it but I think it plays a role

Oh, 100%. I mean, look at this:

Arthur is willing to kill Garth to save Aquababy, because Aquababy is his son...with the implicit corollary that Garth isn't. The kid he has raised since, like, age 8, who has been by his side and living in his house all these years, is just...a sidekick.

(I think it's worth noting that Batman, who is not a good father, was once in a similar situation - Ra's al Ghul wanted him to pick whether Tim or Damian should die - and Bruce immediately chose himself. Arthur didn't even consider sacrificing himself for the boys. When you're a worse father than Batman, you know you've fucked up.)

I will say that in the early decades, comics only rarely explicitly referred to heroes and sidekicks as fathers and sons - you don't see it very often with Dick or Roy either. That's why all the sidekicks were wards and none of them were legally adopted. (Dick wasn't adopted until he was over 18; Roy never has been.) This was mostly to keep the heroes seeming young and fun instead of stodgy old dads.

But since the 70s on, Dick and Roy have been very frequently, explicitly stated to be Bruce and Ollie's sons, and the same is true for subsequent sidekicks: Jason was going to be adopted right away, Tim was going to be adopted whether he wanted it or not, Mia is clearly Ollie's daughter.

By contrast, I can only think of two times the Arthur/Garth dynamic has been described as paternal. The first is from Garth's debut:

HE IS SO TINY. Also I can't stop laughing at how Arthur's like "Fuck that noise." TERRIBLE.

I can't remember exactly when the other instance was, but I want to say it was Arthur calling Garth his son in like...the early 2000s? Maybe the Jurgens run? It would've had to have been before the 2003 run, because Garth was not putting up with Arthur's bullshit from 2003 on, and then the New 52 happened.

But yeah, they don't use those words for each other...basically ever. (Lorena and Jackson are also not Arthur's children. To be fair, Jackson has two very alive parents so Arthur being like "YOU ARE MY SON" would be weird and inappropriate.)

I think another factor, though, is that Arthur isn't just Garth's former mentor and guardian - he's his king. A lot of the time, Arthur has very cold, formal relationships with almost everyone in his life who isn't Mera (and sometimes even her) or a literal baby. There's a certain loyalty Garth owes Arthur - or at least both characters seem to feel Garth owes Arthur, whether or not you or I might agree with that - that has nothing at all to do with family.

We also don't really know the Atlantean norms around this sort of thing. Like, we can extrapolate things about Ollie and Roy's relationship that aren't written on the page, but do Atlanteans even have differentiations between ward, foster, and adoptee? Do they differentiate between adoptee and biological child?

And combining both of those ideas, Garth being considered Arthur's son might have political ramifications. Does that put him in the line of succession? The comics have been wildly inconsistent on this (Titans called him a prince this month and I yelled "EXPLAIN YOURSELF, TOM TAYLOR" at the page), but one could headcanon that Arthur has very deliberately avoided formally recognizing Garth as his son for political reasons. (Unless he has and that's why Garth is apparently a prince now, like he was in the Jurgens run but no other time in history. EXPLAIN BOTH OF YOURSELVES, TOM TAYLOR AND DAN JURGENS.)

Anyway yeah, I mostly think you're right that it's just anti-adoption prejudice, but there are some other factors that make this situation unique among the many, many mentor/sidekick relationships in comics.

[aro-in-danyl]

Alastor as a "Gift from God" AU part 2

I'll have you know it is very difficult to write from the POV of God so you get Roo instead. I had to look up bible verses for this.

PART 1 here.

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

On the day of the first extermination cleanse.

When the first sinner was slain, Roo felt the soul attempt to rise. A fruitless endeavor, for their sinful deeds in life and in death ensured her roots bound the severed pieces of the soul to her.

Foolish angels, in culling the herd and stifling even the thought of rebellion, they only made her stronger. Roo tightened her vines around the soul and attempted to drag it down, down through the 7 rings, and to her.

Attempted, because before she even got past the Pride Ring, a stronger force yanked the soul upwards. Enraged and in disbelief she tightened her hold around the other souls being slaughtered by the dozens, but each and every time they were ripped from her grasp.

At the end of the day, when the exorcists were flying up and away from the slaughter, the portal to Heaven opened and Roo latched onto the connection and demanded an explanation.

"Have you gone back on your word?" her tone was taunting but her desperation and anger festered, "These souls are mine. Their punishment is meant to be eternal!"

Roo did not expect a response, God had not spoken to her since The Beginning, and God had no foothold in hell - usually. Today, apparently, was an exception.

God spoke to her, "My creations all return unto me in The End regardless. You know I cannot bare to be separated forever."

Roo did not buy this, "What ever happened to 'Depart from me, you who are cursed' was that not written?"

"Said by a King, not I." God refuted.

"But within your holy text." Roo sniped, "You reward their sin, their rejection of you, by accepting them back with open arms?"

"If you think that is what will happen to those who reject me twice, you know me not at all." And perversely, Roo felt relieved at this admission. "The righteous will have eternal life, the sinful - upon second death - nothing."

"And keeping them from me was merely a happy coincidence?" Roo felt emboldened, God must see her as a bigger threat than she thought, "To twist the meaning of your eternal punishment to exclude me, why I'd almost call that a quality worthy of a demon."

The portal, which had only been open seconds, pulsed with the force of God's anger.

Roo laughed. "You fear me enough to risk your angels falling into my grasp once again. Do you think this latest stunt of yours will keep me weak forever?"

"My angels have learned to evade you since then."

"Careful there." Roo feigned concern, "Anymore hubris and I'll have to save you a seat in Pride. I could put you next to your favorite child, wouldn't that be nice?"

God ignored the taunt, "I know your roots grow stronger on Earth. More fall to you everyday. Faster than even my best angels can catch them."

Roo smiled at the admission. To have her work acknowledged by the being who created everything, everything that would someday be corrupted and belong wholly to her.

God continued, "It is a testament to your strength that The End may be sooner than I thought."

Roo stopped cold. Her strength came from corrupting the creations of God, but if there was nothing to corrupt...

Ah. She thought. Nothing truly is an eternal punishment.

"Unless," God hedged. "We come to an arrangement?"

Suddenly the reason for God's desire to converse with her made sense. Here she was, weakened from the loss of over a hundred damned souls, from an event that would become a yearly occurrence. Here God was, with the threat of The End poised upon their fingertips, attempting to force her compliance.

And it was working.

But God had shown their hand too early, "How utterly demonic of you! You want to compromise with me? To reason with me?" She used her roots to trip a flailing exorcist trying to remove its spear from a corpse just because, "What can you offer me?"

"I will not hasten The End before its time." God stated, as if the threat of nothing was enough now that she knew God wanted something from her that they could not get themselves.

"You do not want to destroy everything you've created; you want it even less than I do. What is it you desire?"

The last few exorcists were getting ready to return via the portal, their clothes splatted in shade of red and an abundance of gore. They had yet to develop a tolerance to the violence they were perpetuating. Roo knew, just as God did, that many of the angels after slaughtering their first few sinners, had ripped their helmet off and vomited in disgust and despair.

Roo could feel their shock, their inner turmoil, their sense of righteousness, their loyalty to heaven. With time, and more exterminations cleanses, they would learn to enjoy the bloodshed. Or they would break. Such was the way of war.

"I wish to create a gift for Lucifer," God began, "A gift that will challenge him, embolden him, and remain by his side."

Lucifer! Why did it always come back to him? Around them, the corpses of the damned littered her domain never to rise again, God's angels grappled with the weight of their heavenly duty, and her influence weakened for the first time in decades. And yet it was Lucifer that made God lower themselves to speak with her!

Roo reigned in her rage, "And what does that have to do with me?"

"I am creating something unlike anything I've ever created before." God directed her attention back to the weak angel who'd finally pulled their spear from a corpse, "Immune to angelic destruction. Stronger than a thousand sinners, with the potential to stand against my Archangels, capable of vengeance and retribution."

Roo salivated. "And you're sending it here." Roo let the last of the shattered souls in her grasp go, not even paying attention as it shot upwards and away. "You'd create such a thing and put in my hands the instrument of your demise?"

"Which is why I appear before you. You know sin more intimately than I. So I implore you to cast off a piece of yourself for this gift and I shall do the same."

"And what is this gift?" The exorcist was attempting to clean the gore from the spear and failing. "And why should I give you anymore of myself when you've already taken so much?"

"A human soul."

"You intend to create a soul destined to hell before its first sin and gift it to the being who prizes free will above all else. Do you imagine he will thank you?" Roo didn't care about Lucifer's feelings regarding this gift, she couldn't wait to see the fallout actually, but she couldn't help but point out the obvious.

"No," God said, "he will not. As for you, this soul will bring a new age upon your realm. They will be The Avenger of the worthy. And a nightmare to everyone else."

"Do not repay anyone evil for evil," Roo quoted. "Is that why you need me? You want to avoid going against your own words, so you seek to blame me instead."

She did not give God time to respond, "But you still haven't told me what I gain. What do I care for this promised 'new age' or so-called Avenger when I am still trapped?"

"And that is my bargain," God attempted to comfort one of the angels weeping over a small sinner's corpse but their touch fell short. Seems they did not have power over anything in her realm but exorcised souls, she mused.

"With a piece of us both, this soul will have a direct link to us in a way no fully mortal being has before."

Roo would've gasped if she was capable of breathing, "Speak plainly!"

"They could free you."

"What's the catch? Why would you give them this power?" She could hardly believe it. It was too good to be true.

"You have the chance to be free. But you must convince this soul to do so of their own free will, knowing fully the consequences of your freedom." Roo dismissed this, she was The Root of Sin for a reason, and this soul was destined for her realm anyway.

"You are forbidden from interfering with their life before hell. And you must find this soul yourself once they fall."

A minor setback, but the call of freedom was strong. Still, she was not so blinded by this opportunity that she wouldn't ask, "And what, do you, The Almighty God, gain from this bargain?"

"A hellborn will become your greatest adversary, they will attempt to redeem sinners and remove them from your grasp." The portal to Heaven began to close.

"And should they succeed, your chance to convince The Avenger will begin to close. And you will never know freedom."

"A time limit!" She should've known they wouldn't play fair, "How long?"

They turned her attention to the newly built Tower in the center of the Pentagram. The timer below flipped through the numbers at record speed until it hit 365. "Seven full moons after the clock strikes zero for the last time. Do we have an agreement?"

God's voice was strong as ever, but the portal was now only the size of a quarter. Roo knew manipulation and this reeked of it, how clever of God to wait until the last moment to share all the details when she had so little time to think of it.

"When in hell, you use the proper term." Roo pretended to scold them. She reached out to the fading tendrils of God and sunk her thorns in as deep into the connection as she could.

"We have a deal."

[yallemagne]

Once more have I seen the Count go out in his lizard fashion.

Ben Galpin truly captures the defeat Jonathan's feeling here. When you've seen something so incomprehensibly unsettling that the life is drained from you, and you can only think "okay, but what the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Oh? Is this normal? Is this normal? Can I ever financially recover from this?" It's a funny line for how bizarre it is, but it's hard to laugh when you hear Jonathan so dispirited.

Just, mwah. But, in contrast, Jonathan doesn't give up. He takes the opportunity that is presented by Dracula being away and tries all those damn doors again.

And then... he comes to the Room...

Dracula... warned him not to go into the locked rooms... but this room isn't locked. The door is stuck in such a way it would only open if Jonathan put his back into opening it. Now, one could say Dracula simply wasn't diligent enough in locking all the rooms that were off limits... or he anticipated, in some way, Jonathan finding this room by himself. He anticipated that Jonathan would put in the effort to open this one unlocked door. Either way, technically, Jonathan is breaking no rules, but technically, Dracula could still get away with this incompetence if someone were to try to hold him to it. Which, no one can or will.

Then, there is the latter half of Dracula's rules... he told Jonathan he may not sleep anywhere but his own room and the rooms they have both occupied. It, too, feels like a trap: reverse psychology. Jonathan is already weary to be where he knows Dracula goes, especially asleep. And then, Dracula, under the guise of caring for Jonathan's wellbeing, tells him he will only be safe in the rooms that he himself has occupied? Of course, it feels like leaving himself out as bait for the Count.

My lamp seemed to be of little effect in the brilliant moonlight, but I was glad to have it with me, for there was a dread loneliness in the place which chilled my heart and made my nerves tremble. Still, it was better than living alone in the rooms which I had come to hate from the presence of the Count, and after trying a little to school my nerves, I found a soft quietude come over me.

This is the first time that Jonathan is really harsh about the Count. He hates him. He hates his presence, and he hates how it lingers after his absence. But once he can put away his hate, he finds peace:

Here I am, sitting at a little oak table where in old times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with much thought and many blushes, her ill-spelt love-letter, and writing in my diary in shorthand all that has happened since I closed it last.

He calms himself by imagining himself as a lady writing a love letter. Anxious - pen shaking and fumbling with some of the spellings - but not fearful. Not scared. Not in danger. He then remarks on the decor. Apparently, it is modern.

It is nineteenth century up-to-date with a vengeance. And yet, unless my senses deceive me, the old centuries had, and have, powers of their own which mere "modernity" cannot kill.

Even with the redecoration, Jonathan can sense the difference between what Dracula would call a new house vs an old one. This room has been done up to fit better with the current era, but nothing could strip away the history lying dormant underneath. Nothing can kill the spirits who linger. No place old enough to have a history is safe, not even London, which prides itself on its cutting-edge technology and its abandonment of the old and backward.

EDIT: okay so maybe I'm wrong about the decor being up-to-date. What if shhhh just enjoy the post.

[sillyzombiedelusion]

To start with, Theon is a bad guy, but more importantly, a boring character. I actually stopped reading the books because of him (because the books were suddenly like, "here's what Theon's doing", and I was like, "the fuck? Who is that? I never heard that name before in my life. I better watch the TV show so I have faces to help me remember").

This doesn't make him a bad character, this means you personally weren't interested in him, which isn't a universal constant you can claim 💀

You could certainly do something with his split loyalties and bad decisions, but the TV show never made me interested. His choices never felt driven by his inner conflict, just by him being stupid and greedy.

So you didn't examine his character's nuance? Or the fact that someone being "stupid and greedy" doesn't make them uninteresting??

But then, and this is crucial, he has the worst redemption arc possible. First of all he kills two kids. We later learn that these kids were not actually the main characters we thought they were and the show treats it as if that made it okay, but no, it doesn't. And then he gets captured and horrifically tortured and mutilated and eventually gets released. Throughout this he barely makes any decision, nor does he ever give the impression that he might reconsider his actions. The show treats it as redemption, but he doesn't seem to have learned anything other than "Boltons are bad". The way he interacts with Sansa's storyline, portrayed as the hero even though he does almost nothing to actually help her, is particularly egregious.

I mean if you actually read the book you would have a better understanding of theon's character arc, but apparently you decided he was too boring 💀

I don't personally love theon's development throughout the show, but claiming that theon didn't show any remorse for his actions or help sansa is an unusual reach. He doesn't "make any decisions" except for, you know, killing miranda and deciding to help sansa escape winterfell. He's also... been tortured to the point that his mental state has almost completely detiorated.

(Not that Sansa's storyline was all that great to begin with, it took way too long for her to become a politician who proudly has her enemies murdered. That should have happened at least a year or two earlier.)

Not even gonna analyze this, this is just wrong.

Now you might say, isn't that literally the same exact redemption arc as Jaime, who is a great character who everybody loves? Yes, that is true, with one key difference: Jaime has charisma and charm, and he seems actually affected by what's happening to him. Not just in an "ouch ouwie ouch" way, but it genuinely makes him think and reconsider, and his relationship with Brienne is genuinely fun and interesting in a way that the few moments Sansa and Theon share absolutely aren't.

Once again this is your personal opinion and not a universal constant. Also you just admitted the thing huh 💀 "a redemption arc isn't valid unless I personally find the character charming" is really your whole argument here. Also, it's insane to me how you appear to be going almost completely off of show canon, but somehow insist that jaime is better than theon because he "actually changes".

Theon sucks. Theon deserved worse than what happened to him. Theon is boring, his redemption is completely unearned and also boring, and the pains and tribulations on his way to his redemption are also boring and annoying. I watched all of the last season and I still think Theon is my least favourite part of the show (mostly because there's no way to pretend that his story wasn't canon and doesn't count). Fuck Theon. Vote Zuko!

"I find this character boring so he is actually a horrible person and horribly written, and this cannot possibly just be my own personal opinion".

[maya-matlin]

it's sort of ironic that lucas and brooke had more in common later in life then him and peyton they had their own separate goals dreams and wanted a family their relationship matured over time where his and peyton stayed stagnant in a superficial happy fake bubble as soon as realty and communication needed to happen there was always issues nether character could grow together and honestly I don't see them endgame in the long run lucas actions showed he was in awe and had more respect for brooke as a separate person where as peyton he saw as a fantasy not who she really was that's why he just expected her to just want to jump and marry without any depth or conversations about where their relationship is not just some we are meant to be nonsense or the pressure of what other people perceived their relationship everyone constantly went on about him wanting peyton and they are meant to be I think that's just because they have to justify why he and peyton hurt other people and themselves together they had to be different people then who they was around each other

Yeah, the way Lucas and Peyton's relationship developed did not work for me at all. So much of it revolved around LP having to be together in the end to come full circle from the pilot or the fact Lucas repeatedly saved Peyton. Their goals didn't necessarily align unless you consider that Peyton wanted Lucas to be happy, and Lucas wanted the same thing. They both put his wants and needs ahead of Peyton's. Brooke at least felt like a person who independently of Lucas wanted similar things while also going about them differently. Peyton was just.. extremely desperate for Lucas during seasons 4 and 5. Sure, she also wanted to run a record label and discover new musicians, but it honestly came across like Peyton was extremely fixated on Lucas and had it in her head that she could only achieve happiness if he married her. So because she couldn't afford to have Lucas walk away again, she literally jumped at a mediocre proposal without the awareness that she was one of three potential wives. And like, on Lucas's end, his dream didn't necessarily include Peyton. He had a desire to start a family and post Brucas 2.0, the woman in his life didn't need to be a specific person. She just had to be willing to say yes when he needed her to say yes. I truly feel like a part of Lucas settled in a big way after losing Brooke. As for the communication problems, I agree. Nothing was resolved because Lucas had a lot he wasn't willing to voice and things he absolutely refused to hold himself accountable for. Unfortunately, Peyton was not going to be the person who fought Lucas on this. The narrative during season 5 was that Peyton telling Lucas she wasn't ready for marriage at nineteen years old forced him to break up with her and then apparently hide his heart for years after that because the pain was that severe. Bullshit, but whatever. In season 5, Lucas doesn't seem like he's suffering without Peyton. He's literally fine and happy to marry Lindsey, and then again when he makes Brooke a priority and chooses to be her emotional support system with Angie. Like, Lucas holds a grudge against Peyton and keeps her at a distance, but in my opinion the writing was telling us through multiple other characters rather than showing that Lucas still loved Peyton and that a Lucas/Peyton endgame was inevitable. Lucas essentially bumbles his way to "realizing" that he should marry Peyton after all, and I'm sure the fact only she would have jumped at that dead eyed airport proposal had nothing to do with it.

Needless to say, I also think divorce is probably an inevitability with them. Once you peel back the idea of how epic the relationship is supposed to be and both of their separate issues, there isn't a lot there. At first, I'm sure they were blissfully happy because they finally got their dreams. But after that, day to day, I don't think happily ever after is going to feel as satisfying as they'd hoped. I choose to believe Peyton is eventually going to realize how much she compromised for Lucas and (sadly) I get the feeling Lucas will just end up cheating again because he can't admit out loud that he's not happy. And if he can cheat on his serious girlfriend of three years, he's going to cheat on Peyton too now that she's no longer the forbidden, easy option. I hate thinking so lowly of Lucas, but Lucas towards the end of his time on the show was a selfish guy who lost any bit of character growth he'd had during the high school years. Until he manages to work through his own shit, things won't get better.

Needless to say, I agree 100% about Brooke. It sounds ridiculous considering his messy history of breaking her heart back in high school, but during seasons 2 and 3 I truly think Lucas had good intentions and loved and wanted Brooke over Peyton. Lucas fought for Brooke and put himself completely out there in a way that he pretty much never does with Peyton past season 1. Lucas loved Brooke's independence. He loved her bravery and her soft side. There were times when he underestimated how much she needed his emotional support because unlike his relationship with Peyton, it wasn't so reliant on Lucas rescuing her. But we see by the end of season 5 that Lucas has become more in tune with Brooke's emotions and once again found a way to be her friend without any agenda much like during season 2. Whenever I try to imagine Lucas and Brooke in a similar position as Lucas and Peyton during season 5 including the missing years, I literally can't. I don't believe that Lucas would have ever held a years long grudge against Brooke for rejecting his proposal or that Brooke would have come back to him in such a way where she was handing over all of the power in their relationship. Why? Because Lucas and Brooke were so much more than an idea of how life was supposed to play out or something the people in their lives spoke of with such reverence than never quite lived up to expectations. It sounds simple because it really is. Lucas and Brooke were in love, and that was that. At its best, their love inspired some of the best in each other. They were truly equals with both similarities and differences. Plus, the passion. Even during season 5 where he's supposed to be harboring this deep love for Peyton, there are still moments with Brooke that outshine them and make zero sense if there aren't still romantic feelings on Lucas's end

Or this entire scene

I don't know that any of this reply had a point or even a coherent idea, but all I can say is that Lucas and Peyton being endgame hurt both characters. Peyton becomes weaker. Lucas is more selfish. It celebrates this idea that everything that happened was worth it because they got a happy ending, even though they to had to crush Brooke, Jake, Lindsey and Julian in the process. The relationship isn't exciting. The chemistry is severely lacking during most seasons. The entire Lucas/Peyton relationship is endlessly frustrating to watch because I like both Lucas and Peyton separately and time and time again, I revisit this show and watch them ruin their best chances of true happiness with other people all because of Lucas's savior complex and nostalgia for the pilot.

[clover-system]

Allow us to introduce ourselves

Half a year active, over a hundred followers, the majority of which are veteran tumblers from that one 60k note explosion, and we still haven't properly introduced ourselves. Time to fix that.

We are Clover, an endogenic plural system. That means we are multiple people sharing one brain and body, and we aren't plural because of trauma. We do not have DID. (nor do the vast majority of endos)

I am Quincy, the headmate who fronts the most. Quincy is not my real name, but it could've been, and it's an alias I've been using for a few years.

Edit 2024 August 1: Quincy split into Eliza and Mia. Eliza's egg opened easily. Mine crumbled painfully. We now share the host role and this blog. There isn't much difference between us; we both inherited Quincy's memories.

Edit September 18: I live.

There are a lot of people on here who say that it's impossible for a plural system to form without trauma, but as you may have seen from our syscourse (system discourse (expect a lot of sys- compounds)) reblogs, they rarely cite any credible sources, and that's because they're wrong. I am not a LARPer and I do not claim to have DID. This really is every hour of my life, online and offline. If you have any more questions about plurality, feel free to send me an ask.

Though if we're talking about origins, "not from trauma" is overly vague for my taste. If we're really talking about how the system formed, I prefer "dreamgenic", because everyone originated from some combination of nightdreams and immersive daydreams which I had varying levels of control over.

The second most active headmate, Victoria Penelope, has her own blog @victoria-penelope-clover. She posts more infrequently, when she's able to front/cofront/proxy, and is currently mostly focused on syscourse, with occasional slices of life. She's my older syster.

Headcount is currently in the upper teens. Some more may be mentioned occasionally but I'd rather not have a list of private details about everyone easily accessible here for anyone to see. For the most part, all you'll see every once in a while is some colored text indicating a distinct voice.

Anyway, enough plural stuff! Now for typical bio stuff!

Fleed Reddit to come here and wow Tumblr is way better. Always happy to commune with fellow Rexxitors!

For obsession I circle between Chess, Minecraft, Geometry Dash, Warrior Cats, and Undertale. Fandoms I am on the edge of getting sucked into include The Amazing Digital Circus and Death Note. I also plan to watch Avatar: The Last Airbender at some point. Ever since our syscovery, I've consumed next to no fiction for fear of more headmates.

I have a few projects in the works but I've promised myself that I won't post them publicly until I've actually made substantial progress!

No DNI! Maybe it's just because I'm not jaded by years of wasted time with unproductive trolls, but I think assuming someone is in bad faith just because they disagree with you about something heated is bad actually, partly because I've seen what happens and how long progress takes when left-of-center people generally refuse to interact with, for example, transphobes. Relatedly, I will only block you if I think you're a bot or if you really, really fuck up.

Do not be surprised if I casually shit on something you believe in without warning.

I have an ever-growing queue set to post five times per day, and I try not to post too much more than that. I also try to keep my dash at less than 100 posts per day, which is apparently uncommon here.

Reblog reblog reblog! Not just my posts, but everyone (unless you have a good reason not to, like with this intro post). Reblogs are what keep Tumblr alive! Likes do next to nothing.

That's all for now! If you have any more questions, send me an ask and I might add it to this post!

[ijustwantogohomehogwarts]

The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 1

The Adventures of Lee and Gracie - BONES AND ALL : part 1

Warnings and such: mentions of bl00d, !death, death of family member, alcohol/drunkenness ,illusions to caññabilism...i think that's it for this part?

A/N: you can't tell me Timothée doesn't radiate this kind of chaotic energy 24/7! He was absolutely perfect for this movie! Thank you for coming to my TedTalk!

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

My mother was what she called an “eater,” because I guess calling her a cannibal was wrong. There was a difference, apparently, of which the latter she was not. You could have fooled me. I’ve known for a while, probably my whole life, but to me, that was normal. Normal for her anyway. I had never met another “eater,” at least not that I knew of, but would I know if I had anyway? 

She never partook in the activity in the house, but more often than not she came home before she was ready to, covered in blood. Admittedly, it freaked me out to realize how quickly that stopped bothering me…but of course, not as much as discovering what she was doing a few times a month. What bothered me the most is that she came home, cleaned herself up, and carried on with life as if nothing happened. As I got older, I became more wary of her, something that I think she picked up on all too quickly. It drove a wedge in our once perfect relationship, but I wouldn’t consider it a loss.

The idea toyed in her head, for a while- she thought I was a “late bloomer” or that I just needed to “find the feeling,” but whatever it was that caused her to be this way, it must not have been passed along to me. If that’s how someone became an “eater.” It made me wonder where it all started, but then again, maybe I don’t want to know. All I do know is that she left when I was 18, and I hadn’t seen or heard from her since. My dad was long gone and I had no siblings. Maybe my dad knew, and maybe I wasn’t even supposed to happen…oh well, no sense in dreading about it now. I had no complaints. No regrets.

I knew the signs of an eater, or at least the ones that made my mother stand out in a crowd, but I still wasn’t sure if I would be able to pick one out of a line up unless they had blood all over their face. I resolved to just be by myself, to always watch my back and never put a lot of trust in anyone. It was all easy, really. I wasn’t allowed to have friends as a child, understandably so, and because of that I was fine to be by myself. I didn’t know any different.

As my 20th birthday approached, the body of a woman surfaced near the lake. It was a lot to take in, in a small town, but I knew. I knew that it was my mother, and I knew that it wasn’t an animal who had found her body before some local fishermen. There was another eater, somewhere, and suddenly I didn’t feel safe. What if they came after me? I am half my mother, eater or not. I packed a bag and left with a full tank of gas and all the money I had been saving for almost 6 years. I didn’t dare look back. 

That was almost a year ago now. My 21st birthday was at the end of the summer and I had already driven across the country and back once. I was stuck somewhere between not wanting to settle down somewhere, and being too afraid to. I had no family elsewhere, at least not that I knew of, so there wasn’t anything grounding me to one specific spot. The life of a nomad was starting to grow on me! I found myself in Indiana, at the dumpiest ‘grocery store’ I had ever been in, which was saying a lot because I’ve seen some pretty deplorable places on my travels. 

“What kind of store runs out of lunchables?!”

There was a very intoxicated man wandering the store, drinking a 6 pack of cheap beer that I can only assume he hadn’t paid for. The store attendants didn’t even bat an eyelash at him, apparently this was a regular thing. I was at the end of the aisle he had just strolled down, looking at the bare bone essentials that were strewed about the shelves.

“Hey, I’m talking to you, you dumb bitch-”

A woman with a small child had asked to get by him on her way to the checkout lines. I wasn’t the only one watching him- a boy, about my age, had been following him around the store for a while now. I couldn’t tell if they were together or not, but the younger one seemed highly irritated with the antics.

“Hey!” He called, standing behind me. “You’re out of control, buddy.” Okay, so maybe they aren’t together. 

“You with the store or something?”

“No, I’m not with the store. But I’m going to escort you out of it.”

“Oh you are?” 

“Watch this,” the younger boy whispered as he stepped around me. 

He had a shit eating grin plastered to his face, as if he was waiting for this moment. He turned to the drunk man, smiled at him and without an ounce of hesitation, headbutted him. Hard. I could hear it break his nose. Blood began to seep down his face before he realized what had happened. The drunk threw an otherwise poorly calculated swing, but missed by a mile or more.

“Outside, you fucker!”

“You want to go outside? We can go outside! Let’s go outside!”

“Who the fuck do you think you are, you little asshole!”

“Is this how you spend your Saturdays? Harassing innocent people after you spend the morning jerking off…”

Their voices trailed off as the door closed behind them. I watched them chase each other around the parking lot for a moment before stepping out of view and behind the store. That was the most excitement I had seen in a long time! 

I made my purchases and used the microwave behind the counter to makeshift something for dinner. What I wouldn’t give for a real kitchen! It was nearly dark when I finally left, and there was no sign of the two men from earlier. I could only hope they sorted out their differences and everyone left without incident. 

I was crossing the parking lot to my truck when I noticed something someone, crawling out the window frame of an abandoned building a few yards away. It was the younger guy from earlier. His shirt was torn and he looked at me before doubling over. I couldn’t tell what he was doing, but could hear the distinct crinkle of a plastic water bottle and as he approached, I could see it- blood! A lot of fucking blood. I knew instantly what he was; his face and chest was smeared the same way I had seen my mother’s many times before. Despite his best efforts to apparently clean himself, the evidence was everywhere. I didn’t know rather to run or scream or-

“He’s back there, if you want to..” He nodded back towards the building, walking past me without batting an eyelash in my direction. Maybe they only “ate” once? Do they get full? They have to, right?

“No! No I don’t- I’m not a…No!” He stopped and looked me up and down. 

“Could have fooled me. You smell like one.”

“One what?” I hesitated, trying to keep the distance between us. 

“You tell me. You seem to know.”

“I’m not.”

“So you’ve said.”

“What do you mean ‘I smell like one?’”

“An eater. Eaters can smell other eaters. Usually.”

“Well, you’re wrong. I’m not a…a eater.” 

“Okay. Well, sorry.” He smiled, and I could see his blood stained teeth. Somehow, even in this moment, I wasn’t phased. “I’m gonna just…I’m gonna go now.” 

There was something about him…something that I couldn’t put a finger on, or take my eyes off of. He seemed…different? I only had my mother to compare him to, but there was still something. I watched him circle the parking lot, staring at the keys in his hand. Whatever he was trying to find must not have belonged to him. Wait was he-

“You can’t just steal his truck!” I laughed nervously, watching him climb in and start digging around. 

“What good is it to him now?” He turned the key over and tried to start it, groaning. “There’s no gas in it anyway.” 

“I’m sorry I don’t-”

“Will you drive me somewhere?”

“No! I don’t even know you!”

He jumped out of the truck, a piece of paper and a few dollars in his hand. He smiled, wiping his spare hand on his pant leg before extending it to me.

“Sorry, I’m Lee.”

“Lee?”

“Lee. No last name.” I looked at him for a minute, his smile never fading.

“Grace. Or Gracie.” 

“First and last?” He chuckled and whatever it was about him made me smile, even if I didn’t want to. ‘Don’t trust people’ I reminded myself.

“Look,” he continued. “You could have convinced me you were an eater, like I said, you smell like one. And if you’re really not, hey that's cool too! But eaters don’t eat eaters, so I’ll treat you like one if you’ll just drive me…” he looked at the paper and spun around in a small circle before pointing in some opposite direction. “If you’ll drive me like 15 minutes that way? Please?”

I tried to weigh my options, the risks I was taking by giving in, but there it was again, that thing that was different about him. Whatever it is, it was telling me to just give him the ride. I could leave him there and never have to see him again if the next 15 minutes gave me any inclination that Lee couldn’t be trusted. 

“Okay,” I sighed, pointing him towards my own truck a few spots over. “But if you try to-”

“Cross my heart I won't!”

We hopped in and he gave me directions. He was quiet, domestic really…not something I would have expected from one of them. He just sat there, like nothing had happened. I couldn’t help but eye him the whole way, and he definitely knew, but didn’t say anything. It was almost a comforting silence, something I don’t recall ever experiencing in my life before now. 

Eventually, we made it. The house was dilapidated, not cared for in the slightest- it smelled of weed and alcohol from the driveway. A bachelor pad if I had ever seen one before. The lights were off, though I may have died of shock if anyone else was living there. 

“Thank you,” Lee smiled, hopping out of the car and coming over to my side. “Unless, I mean, do you want to come in?” He said it so calmly, like it was his own house! 

“I umm…” 

“I promised I wouldn’t bite, remember!”

That feeling returned, consuming my body. It’s fine, just go with him. Something inside me was screaming, I didn’t know if it was my brain, my heart, or my stomach, but none of them were arguing with whichever one was screaming. Maybe this is how I die! Only one way to find out…

I sighed, hopping out of the truck and following him into the house. The inside was somehow worse than the outside- I didn’t even think that was possible. Lee, however, seemed to be in love! He instantly started digging though the man’s collection of music, staring wildly at the raunchy posters on the wall. 

Lee let out an excited noise when he pulled a record from the crate, throwing it on the player. The music blared horribly loud, causing both of us to jump out of our skins.

“Fuck!” He yelled, turning it down quickly. The smile soon returned to his face and he began jumping around the room, singing and dancing erratically.

It was almost euphoric to watch. So I did- I just watched him. I watched him for a few minutes, my eyes following him as he jumped off the couch, landing in front of a very dirty mirror. He leaned in close, singing to his reflection until he caught sight of the state he was in. There was still blood smeared down his chin and throat, the rest was hidden behind his t-shirt. The smile dropped from his face and in its place…embarrassment?

“I’m gonna go take a shower.” I nodded and watched as he disappeared down the hallway. 

Last chance to leave.

No, I think I’m going to stay. 

Lee emerged a while later and asked if I wanted a turn in the bathroom. Again, this seemed so normal to him- he acted like this was his house. He must do this every time he…eats. A real shower sounded too inviting, no matter how gross the bathroom may be. 

With the endless supply of hot water, I’m not sure how long I was in there. A small part of me almost expected the boy to be gone when I was finished, but he wasn’t. I followed the sound of the television and found him sitting in front of it, laughing along to whatever way playing, a cigarette in hand. Domestic. 

I cleared my throat, not knowing what else to do. 

“Oh, hey!” He jumped up. “Do you want to watch something? I think there’s a few more channels on here…”

“No, that's okay. I might actually go to bed…if you don’t mind?”

“Not at all! Take the bed, I’ll sleep out here.” He pointed towards the back of the house. “It's just back there…on the left.”

I felt like I was supposed to say something, to thank him, maybe? But whatever it was, I couldn’t find it. I just looked at him, probably for too long. He began to rock back and forth on the balls of his heels, looking around the room and smiling awkwardly everytime his eyes met mine. 

“Goodnight, Lee.” I finally mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Night, Gracie!” I heard him plop back down on the floor as I headed towards the bedroom.

Weirdest. Day. Ever.

******

I hardly slept last night. Part of me was scared I’d wake up to Lee standing over me, or that the guy whose house we were in was going to come back, or that a neighbor called the cops after seeing us come in or-

*knock* *knock* 

“Gracie, you awake?”

I sat up boltright. “Yeah, it’s open.”

No, you idiot! That’s not what he asked!

Lee opened the door awkwardly and stuck an arm through the crack, offering me a cup of coffee. Domestic!

“I’m not sure how you take it, but your only option is black or Irish, but you know, that’s still black.” I chuckled, opening the door further and taking the cup from him. His head was turned, not daring to look in the room. 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhmm.” 

There was an awkward silence. Lee still hadn't turned around. 

“Can I ask you something?” I finally found the courage to speak.

“Shoot.”

“This is normal for you, isn’t it?” 

“Was that the question, or a statement?”

I groaned, walking back over to the bed. Lee hesitantly peered around the corner, not daring to enter the room any further. 

“Sorry,” He chuckled nervously, taking a sip of coffee. “But yeah, I guess this is normal? Are you referring to the whole,” He made an exaggerated chewing motion, teeth clicking together audibly. “Thing or?”

“That. Yes. But I assumed that was normal for you. It was normal for my mother, anyway. But I was referring to the whole ‘making yourself at home’ type of thing.”

“Your mother?!” I just looked at him, waiting for an answer to the second part of the question- the actual question. “Umm. I mean, everyone’s got their own rules, I guess. I don’t see any harm in staying a night or two. It’s not like he’s going to need it.” 

We sat silently, sipping shitty coffee and stealing glances at each other. The comfortable silence settling over us once again.

“If you’re not from around here, where are you from? And where are you going?”

“Kentucky,” he smiled, looking like he was reminiscing. “Got family there, sort of...but I’m not sure where I’m going…I don’t ever really know. I just…go. What about you?”

“I’m from New York-”

“Holy shit!”

“Yeah. But there’s nothing left there for me so I’m making my way back across the country.” I shrugged, the idea didn’t seem so crazy to me as it once did. 

“I’m sorry, back?!”

“I’ve been on the road for almost a year.” 

“That sounds awesome! You’ll have to tell me about it…sometime.” The smile on his face faded slightly as he stared at the contents of the mug in his hand.

Is this where we were supposed to part ways? It didn’t feel right to get back in the truck and leave him, but taking him with me? That sounded just as weird. I’ve never been conflicted over the…wellbeing? Of another person? Is that what this was called? 

Hypothetically, I thought to myself. What would be the harm in asking him to come along? What was stopping me from dumping him on the side of the road somewhere if he pissed me off or tried to bite or whatever else could possibly happen. He wasn’t tied to anywhere either, not really anyway. He had been doing things his way for who knows how long, clearly he could take care of himself. He seemed to be doing a better job at it than me, actually. And the odds of ever running into him again? There was something about him that wasn’t…scary. Maybe it was the pink hair! 

“I’ll tell you.” I smiled, finishing the coffee. “You drive. I’ll talk.” 

“What?”

“Unless you have other plans-”

“No!” Lee said, rather quickly. “Are, are you offering to take me with you?” He sounded less sure of himself as the sentence dragged on.

“IF,” I barked, standing up and sticking a pinky in his face. “You keep your promise!”

“Cross my heart.” He smiled, drawing an ‘X’ over his chest before hooking his pinky with mine. 

[jewreallythinkthat]

Holy fuck the victim mindset Jews have is insane. People are not protesting shit because they hate Jews or Judaism. It has fucking nothing to do with religion. People are actually just fucking seeing things for the first time ever, thanks to technology. They are seeing information that is not controlled by a news source but by the people living and experiencing what’s happening everyday.

People are dumb and don’t care about stuff unless they are seeing it every day which is why Palestinians and so many others are protesting and posting. If they stop people will stop caring and pretend everything’s normal. The reason people don’t talk about other atrocities is because they genuinely don’t know or it just isn’t effecting them because they live far. It has zero to do with Judaism.

I don't know what to tell you mate but when you open with accusing an entire group of playing the victim, you're already deep in the rabbit hole of Jew hate. If you'd accused me, singular, then I'd have let it slide (I think you're wrong because you have no idea of my life and experience but whatever), but instead you decided to attack the entirety of the Jewish population. That's antisemitism...

I can't control what people see but I am highly aware of the quantity of reporting that goes on because it's literally my job to be and people lost interest well before news etc stopped stalking about Ukraine and the Uyghurs in China.

Shockingly, I know, I have no issue with people protesting war. My issue is the double standard to which Israel is held compared to every other country.

Re. the religion comment, once again I am reminding you that Judaism is an ethnoreligion (although I don't like that term myself) and Jews are an ethnic group who have religious practices which are no known as Judaism.

Also, I don't know if it's something you came across because I don't know you and your history, but people have been libelling Israel for far longer than the current conflict. People send hate and death threats to Jews and Israelis all the time, the current conflict has apparently just given permission to more people to justify that sort of behaviour to themselves. Even when Israel isn't in the news, people are obsessed with it. I'm not responsible for what you care about or take notice of, but I for once am very aware of when people make sweeping generalisations that include the slaughter of my own family.

[markantonys]

I haven’t read the books but I do know what they have done with Moiraine and Siuan’s relationship is way more than it was in the books. On the one hand they developed it fully, have given them a very clear and deep 20 year relationship. And on the other hand, they also destroyed it fully by the end of season 2. Where do you think they are taking this? Will they stick to the books and give them their other relationships or will they weave them back together. It’s anyone’s guess but am interested to hear what yours is. I like the theory that their fallout was preplanned and part of the reason the episode was called daes daemar. But me liking something does not equal logic and fact to be sure

imo there's 0 chance that either of them will have their book relationships, that's just not happening and i find it a little silly when people (not you! but i've seen others doing it) immediately panic and think the show broke them up for that purpose haha of course i can understand why people are worried and upset! but it feels so SO unlikely that either character would ever have a romance with anyone but each other in the show, so that is one worry i think it's pretty safe to set aside altogether. (for time constraint reasons if nothing else; giving moiraine and/or siuan a brand-new love interest and having to develop that relationship would be far from the best use of the show's limited time. plus, i remember rafe outright called moiraine a lesbian in an interview once, so i highly doubt he's got plans for her, at least, to have a male love interest at any point.)

this got a little long so putting a read more!

personally i don't buy the preplanned fallout theory because i think the waygate scene doesn't work with it. if their goal was to make rand trust moiraine, then they accomplished that with their scene in the throne room; there was no need for siuan to chase them down to the waygate, she could've just let them leave if she was in on moiraine's plan here. the only time this theory felt plausible to me is when someone suggested they were in on it together UP UNTIL siuan saw moiraine channeling after moiraine had told her she was stilled, and so everything before that point was an act but everything after was genuine. but even then, it's tricky to explain why siuan would have even chased them to the waygate in the first place - unless she just wanted to make sure they got away successfully and/or wanted leane & co to think she made an effort to stop them, but then catching moiraine in an apparent lie made her change her mind and actually try to stop them? but yeah, imo there's no way the waygate scene was not genuine, but it's possible (but still unlikely; again imo) that the scenes before it were part of a scheme.

and to me, that's okay! to me, as a queer person myself (but ofc i'm just speaking for myself, not for All Queer People), giving queer characters and queer relationships the same narrative weight as het ones also means letting them be flawed and have conflict, rather than keeping them up on a pedestal of perfection and ultimately relegating them to the background of the story because you won't let them face obstacles or develop. i understand why others don't feel that way and were upset by the way things went down in 2x07, but that's just my personal feeling and that's why i personally wasn't bothered to see siuan and moiraine have major conflict here (especially since, unlike the Queer Traumaporn in so much media, this conflict had nothing to do with them being queer - it just felt like a natural conflict that arose from the two characters' specific personalities and life circumstances, as opposed to feeling like they were being punished by their world or by the narrative for being queer, you know?)

duty is a huge theme of WOT and here we saw how moiraine and siuan are both so committed to duty above absolutely everything else. they are both willing to sacrifice anything for what they each see as the greater good, and here, when they realize they have different ideas* about what best serves the greater good, they sacrifice even their relationship with each other because they feel they have no other choice, because they've spent 20 years training themselves to think that the greater good is more important than their personal happiness. to me it's so beautifully tragic! and to me it felt like the best kind of tragedy, one that's rooted in the specific characterization of the individuals involved and on all the previous choices they've made that built up to make the moment of tragedy an inevitable outcome.

*and both are reasonable and in-character ideas that were set up last season. we saw how in their discussion of "can the prophecies be trusted?" in 1x06 that moiraine is skeptical of tower tradition/protocol because she's been out in the world and largely cut off from the tower for 20 years, whereas siuan tends to trust tower tradition/protocol because she's been in the tower leading it for 20 years. and now in s2, from moiraine's perspective they need to break with tower protocol because the tower is too fractured and they have too many enemies within it, but from siuan's perspective they need to return to tower protocol because they tried going rogue and doing so freed the forsaken and was a huge mistake.

all this being said, i do not by any means think the relationship is 100% dead and over for good. like you say, the show put in work to make their relationship much deeper than it was in the books, and i don't think that was for nothing! i think that siuan in particular has been set up for a really meaty character development arc and that this is only the very beginning for her, and that by the end of the show we'll see the two of them reconcile and come back together. maybe i'm totally wrong and maybe it'll turn out that i shouldn't have given the benefit of the doubt, but as of now i don't feel there's reason to worry the show has completely trashed their relationship for good. but season 3 will be a make-or-break season, so by the end of that, depending on how certain book events play out, we should have a much clearer idea of their long-term plans for siuan and siuaraine!

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: VI

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: Training with Yuta yields unpleasant consequences when a conversation with Toge makes you realize the truth about your feelings for the special grade sorcerer.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.6k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: live laugh love TOGE INUMAKI

“For what it’s worth, I agree with Tullia,” Maki said once you had returned to the school. She seemed quite pleased with herself, which was probably compounded by the fact that Yuta apparently had bruises running up and down his arms and legs. It was not that Maki delighted in pain but rather that she felt a training session was not effective unless at least one participant had been pushed to their absolute limits.

“Really?” you said.

“You know how I feel about clan politics,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

“That’s true,” you said.

“I’m going to be the head of the Zenin clan one day, even if they won’t have me. I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way; maybe you should do the same,” she said.

“It’d be an easy victory. My family’s mostly comprised of healers — I’m the only one that can fight, so if it came down to it, I’d win against all of them relatively quickly,” you said.

“There’s no pleasure in that,” Maki said.

“Furthermore, what good would it do? Nothing would change just because I’m the head of the L/N clan. The higher ups would still be the higher ups. The fundamental structures of society would not change. My family’s power only comes from our abilities to heal; without that, do you think that the higher ups would entertain an entire bloodline that, until me, has done absolutely nothing in the aid of exorcising curses?” you said.

“We can do it together!” she said.

“You’ll have to elaborate,” you said.

“I take over the Zenin clan and you take over the L/N clan. With your support, the Zenins will be less likely to rebel against me, and I’ll have enough power to protect you from the higher ups. I myself will be a higher up, actually, and I’ll never ever let anything happen to you,” she said.

“It’s a nice idea,” you said with a smile, leaning forwards to hug her tightly, resting your chin on her shoulder, “But I don’t have the constitution for it. I don’t need to be the head of my clan; that can be Noritoshi’s job. The best I can give you is that I won’t let the Kamos stop you — though I myself won’t be a higher up, my future husband will be. And I’ll never ever let anything happen to you, either.”

“I’ll become the head of the Zenin clan before your wedding,” she promised you, “I will. And then I’ll marry you — your parents can hardly complain about that, right? I’ll be quite a catch. If we’re married, only on paper of course, then you can be free to do whatever you want and be whoever you want to be.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” you said.

“That’s a good question that I cannot really answer. The best I can offer you is that you were probably a saint in your past life,” she said.

“Probably,” you agreed, “Thank you, Maki, but you don’t have to marry me. I’ll find a way to be myself even with the constraints of the life I’ve been given. I really shouldn’t complain; my privilege is so great that any whining just feels gauche.”

“Privilege doesn’t mean you can’t have problems, but if you insist on doing everything yourself, then…that’s fine. I can understand it, at least. Still, let me know if you need help or something. And the offer stands; I’ll marry you in an instant if you ask,” she said.

“Maybe in another universe, I’ll be the best healer and you’ll be the strongest sorcerer and we’ll run jujutsu society together,” you said.

“Why can’t it be this one?” she argued. You showed her your hands.

“At least one of us can get there,” you said. “I know you can.”

“Y/N, I —” Whatever she had been about to say was interrupted by the door creaking open.

“I heard you were back,” Yuta said, peeking into the room with a slight blush on his cheeks. If he had ever been as bruised as Maki had described, he was not anymore. In fact, he looked perfectly healthy, if not a little nervous.

Maki stiffened and leaned away from you, her face hardening as she crossed her arms and trained her gaze on the floor. You shot her a worried glance before smiling at Yuta.

“I am. Did you need something?” you said.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he said.

“Perfectly alright. We hit some bumps in the road, but we made it through unscathed, and Gojo’s bakery is safe, which means Toge and Panda might actually be able to do productive things again,” you said.

“They’re almost finished with the cake they started earlier. It looks elaborate,” Yuta said.

“I’m sure it’ll be delicious,” you said politely, “Was there something else?”

“Uh, when you’re finished, could you come with me? I need help,” he said.

You furrowed your brow in confusion but shrugged, though you had no idea what he’d need your help specifically for. “Sure. Give me a second.”

“No need,” Maki said.

“But you were just about to say something,” you protested. She hopped off of the desk she had been perched on with an elegant roll of her eyes.

“Nothing important. See you at dinner,” she said, leaving the two of you behind without another word. You watched her go for a second, wondering what had gotten into her before deciding it wasn’t your problem.

“Alright, I guess I’m yours for the rest of the afternoon. How can I help you?” you said. He looked around furtively before beckoning for you to follow him, sneaking through the hallways like a criminal. You trailed after, though you were certain to leave a little bit of distance between you lest a staff member think you were up to something illicit with him.

You made your way into the weapons shed, where he yanked on a string to turn the lights on. You had never been inside of the building, and you admired the sharp steel swords and polished wooden staffs with interest. Though they would never do you much good, not precise enough for your cursed technique to warrant learning to use them, that did not stop you from imagining what it’d feel like to heft one of them in your hands.

“Training with Maki is great, and I learn a lot whenever we spar,” he began, taking down a wooden practice sword and showing it to you, “But it’s not enough.”

“Are you asking me to teach you? I don’t know anything about swords, so you’ve come to the wrong person,” you said.

“I need you to attack me with your needles. Maki doesn’t have anything in the way of long-range attacks, and I have to be able to defend against those, too. Maybe they’re not that common from curses, but I want to be prepared for everything. If I am to exorcise Rika, then I can’t be lacking skill in any area,” he said.

“Attack you? But if I hit you in the wrong spot, I could kill you,” you said worriedly.

“I trust you enough to know that you won’t,” he said.

“I’m not half as skilled as you believe me to be,” you murmured, trying your best to avoid his beseeching expression. But he did not let you, reaching out to place his hand on your shoulder.

“You’re more skilled, probably. You’re really strong, Y/N. Why else would Gojo entrust you with a mission like retrieving me, an unknown special grade sorcerer?” he said.

“Well…” you winced, remembering that Gojo had brought you along to ‘seduce’ Yuta into compliance. Luckily, it hadn’t been necessary, but it was more reflective of your looks than it was of your abilities.

“And even besides that, you rescued Tullia, and you saved Gojo’s bakery. A weak sorcerer who can’t even control their own weapons couldn’t do any of that. So I’m confident in asking you to toss needles at me! Plus, the whole objective is that I don’t get hit by them, right? So who’s to say you’ll even get the chance to hurt me?” he said. Hesitantly, you placed your hand atop his, which still rested on your shoulder. His skin was rough, already painted with calluses that spoke of more practice than he had let on.

“Fine,” you said.

“Fine?” he said excitedly, entire face lighting up. His enthusiasm was contagious, spreading until you felt it, too.

“Fine,” you affirmed, “In exchange, though, I want you to help me learn to use a sword. Not that it’ll ever be my weapon of choice, but it’s always good to know things.”

“I definitely can, but why aren’t you asking Maki? She’s a lot better with these things,” he said. You winked at him, ducking out of the weapons shed and turning the light off, plunging it into darkness.

“I’m not as tough as you are. I think you’re a little less likely to leave me sore and bruised for days, so I believe you might be the better choice for now,” you said.

“O-okay!” he said, running after you.

“Just the normal training field should be alright, yeah? It’s not like we’re doing anything wrong by practicing,” you said.

“It should be fine. Do you have non-cursed needles?” he said.

“Yes, I have some that I haven’t cursed yet. We can use those,” you said, putting down your cursed weapons next to the bottle of water that Yuta had brought. You did not need to use those for a sparring match, and you didn’t want to run the risk of hurting him irreversibly by accidentally using the wrong ones.

“Ready?” he said once you were across from him.

“Are you going to try and attack back, or just defend?” you said. He bit his lip in thought.

“Which would you prefer?” he said.

“It would make it more realistic if you were attacking back, and I’ve been practicing dodging with Maki for a while, so it’d be nice to see how it works against another opponent,” you said.

“That’s settled, then,” he said. “Do you want to count down?”

“Why not? Three,” you began, watching as he lifted his sword in preparation and taking out a few of your own needles for the same reason, “Two, one!”

Predictably, he charged towards you in an attempt to close the gap. But you were ready for it and took off yourself, twisting and tossing needles towards him before continuing to run, not wasting time with checking whether or not you had hit your target. You doubted you had, anyways; this was just a preliminary exercise to the fight, both of you feeling out each other’s skills.

Despite his pretty, deer-like appearance, you knew that Yuta was far stronger than you. Furthermore, due to his nearly boundless reserves of cursed energy, his stamina was almost unmatchable. If this turned into a battle of attrition, you’d lose, which meant you had to get him out before you were too exhausted to fight back.

The whistling sound of wood cutting through the air was the only warning you got that he had caught up to you. Instinctively, you launched into a handspring, ducking out of the way of his swing without breaking your momentum. As soon as you were back to your feet, you threw a set of needles at him, which he blocked with his sword. They clattered to the ground, and you cursed.

“You’re sure you’ve not been practicing with someone else?” you said breathlessly.

“I’ve had Panda throw random things at me, but that’s not the same as a trained specialist,” he said, slicing the sword towards you. You bent backwards, resting your hands on the ground for support and staying very still as the strike went over you, barely missing the clothes of your uniform.

“Looks like it worked well enough,” you said, standing up before he could react and taking out a single needle, aiming at his solar plexus and throwing. He narrowly avoided it, stepping to the side and using the hilt of his sword to block it from hitting his ribcage.

“Nah,” he panted, “You’re much harder to beat. I would’ve won against Panda by now.”

“You flatter me,” you said, throwing more needles at him in increased desperation. Though you were both tiring, the fight was obviously affecting you more. You were used to decisive first blows and surprise attacks, whereas Yuta trained for this sort of scenario exactly.

Your exhaustion lent sloppiness to your throws, which meant you were rapidly being pushed into a corner of sorts. Yuta continued to advance while you did everything you could to not get hit, employing every gymnastic trick and sudden change in direction you could think of. You did not even bother with attacking anymore, purely on the defensive even as Yuta got closer.

He barrelled into you, knocking you to the ground before you were even aware of it. You fell on your back, the wind knocked out of you as you gazed up at him. He straddled you with his sword pressed to your throat, ensuring you could not get free. Strangely, a different sort of warmth spread through you, and it was not tiredness that caused your breath to quicken.

“I win,” he said victoriously. Your eyes widened, and then you grinned. The single needle you had been preparing to throw was still in your hand, and though it was only one, it was enough. He frowned at your amusement.

“No,” you said, and in one swift movement, you reached up and stuck the needle into the back of his neck, “I win.”

He collapsed atop you, pinning you to the ground with his weight. You groaned, having not considered the ramifications of your actions.

“Sorry,” he said, “I can’t — I can’t move.”

“That’s my fault,” you said, maneuvering your arm to pull the needle out, “It’ll take a minute to wear off. I didn’t hit you in a lethal spot, but it was close enough to one that it temporarily paralyzed you.”

“You’re sure it won’t last?” he said in a panic. You chuckled.

“I promise it won’t, or else I wouldn’t have done it. Actually, I’m kind of regretting it either way. You’re not exactly light, and I forgot that if you collapsed it would be right on me,” you said.

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Like I said, it's my fault,” you said. “Certainly not your mistake to apologize for. If anyone should be sorry, it’s me.”

“You were just trying to win the fight. You shouldn’t be sorry, either,” he said.

“Since we’re stuck here, let’s go over why I won in the end, even though clearly you should have,” you said.

“I got too confident,” he said.

“Right,” you agreed, “You never, ever think you’ve won until your opponent’s dead or surrendered — and they have to be the one that has surrendered. You can’t decide for them. Things can play dead or seem incapacitated when they still have another card up their sleeve. Or, like just now, in trying to finish them off, you might accidentally present them with an opening.”

“That’s true. I’ll be careful of that from now on,” he said.

“Good. What else did you learn from the fight?” you said.

“Uh, I’m not sure?” he said.

“I’ll tell you what I learned — your stamina is inhuman. If it comes down to it, I have full faith that you will outlast nearly any enemy,” you said.

“Do you really think so?” he said.

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t. You also need to work on your agility. You’re kind of stiff — almost static, in a way. Your forms are easy to anticipate. Try to be a little more creative, or else a stronger opponent than I will take advantage of your predictability,” you said.

“So what you’re saying is…more practice?” he said.

“That certainly won’t hurt, of course, but what you really need is to use your head more,” you said, knocking lightly on the back of his skull for emphasis. “Hear that? It’s not hollow, which means you’ve got something up there. Don’t let it go to waste.”

“I’ll try my best. Oh! I think I can move again!” he said.

“Don’t push it if you can’t,” you warned, but he took no heed, boosting himself up until he was standing again. You sighed in relief, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet. When he let go, you wobbled, and he darted over to wrap an arm around you.

“I’ll help you to the bench,” he said seriously.

“It’s not necessary,” you said, making no moves to shrug him off, “But if you insist.”

It was slow going, as Yuta refused to go any faster than the pace you set, but you made it over to his water and your cursed needles. You sat next to them, leaning against the back of the bench and closing your eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of the sun.

“Are you thirsty?” he said.

“A little, but I didn’t bring any water. I’ll survive,” you said.

“Here, take mine!” he said, all but thrusting it into your hands. You were startled at the exuberance, nearly dropping the bottle before trying in vain to give it back.

“I can’t take this. I don’t want you to suffer for my lack of preparation,” you said.

“It’s not like you’ll drink the whole thing,” he reasoned, “I’ll just have whatever’s left.”

It was funny; although he was so soft-spoken and well-mannered, he was occasionally as stubborn as a mule. Seeing no reason nor merit to arguing with him, you unscrewed the cap of the bottle and gratefully took a few sips before handing it to him.

“Thank you,” you said.

“Anytime,” he said. You were fascinated with the way his throat bobbed as he drank, his Adam’s apple evident whenever he swallowed. You busied yourself with reorganizing your cursed needles in an attempt to distract yourself, not appreciating the way you felt at the moment.

“So,” you said, “Sword training. How does it work?”

“I was just handed a sword and then repeatedly attacked until I figured it out, but I don’t think that that’s the best method, so I won’t subject you to it,” he said.

“Please don’t,” you said, shuddering at the thought.

“Hm, okay. I’ll set up a dummy and then I can show you how to hold and swing and stuff, I guess,” he said, leaving you alone as he raced towards the weapons shed, dragging a straw figure in the vague shape of a man out with him.

“Very impressive,” you said sarcastically as Yuta propped it up, “He looks very menacing.”

“Do you want one of the cursed puppets?” he said. “Those fight back.”

“Nothing that fights back, please. Not for a while,” you said immediately.

“I think you could take one, though,” he said.

“Not with a sword,” you said with a scoff.

“Maybe not,” he conceded, “Are you ready, or do you need more rest? I don’t mind waiting, it’s not like we’re doing anything else today.”

“I think I’ll be alright,” you said, joining him in front of the straw dummy and looking at it critically.

“Here’s your weapon,” he said, handing it to you. It was heavier than you had expected, and you nearly dropped it at first before rebalancing yourself to hold it properly. From behind you, he wrapped his arms around and repositioned your hands on the hilt. “There you go, that’s how Maki says a sword should be held.”

“Thanks,” you whispered, painfully aware of the way he was pressed against your back, though you did not need to look at him to know it was completely innocent on his part. He was genuinely trying to help you — you were the one with the deviant thoughts.

“There’s a couple of basic swings and parries that everyone has to learn before they can develop their own personal styles and ways of fighting. Here’s one,” he said. He guided the sword in a slashing arc. Your hands were trapped by his and therefore followed, your body memorizing the exact movements.

“What are the others?” you said. When he laughed, you could feel his body vibrate against yours pleasantly.

“You don’t want to practice this one first?” he said.

“I’d like to learn all of them and then decide which ones to practice,” you said.

“You know best,” he said, exhaling and then helping you swing the sword into the dummy’s heart, correcting your position as you went.

“This is even harder than I thought it would be,” you said, frozen in a lunge, the sword pointed out in front of you and Yuta crouched at your feet.

“You’re not that bad at it, actually, it’s just that you’re not as physically strong as, say, Maki — which certainly isn’t an insult. But it means that you’re overcompensating in other areas to make up for your weaker muscles,” he said, lifting your foot without warning. You squeaked, nearly tipping over, but he used his other hand to grip your opposite thigh, steadying you somewhat. You stared down at him, but he was focused on the ankle he held in the air.

“I’m going to fall,” you warned him.

“I won’t let you,” he assured you, “Rotate your ankle to the left a little. There you go.”

He placed your foot an inch behind where it had previously rested. Though you thought your knees would buckle, it actually made you feel more stable, your upper body straightening and the sword feeling a little lighter in your grip.

“Wait, that actually helped a ton!” you said in shock.

“Your stance is your base of support, like a foundation or something. If it’s off, then everything else will be thrown off, too, which makes this all more difficult than it needs to be,” he explained.

“You know so much already. You’re a real prodigy with this stuff, Yuta,” you said in wonder.

“I just have a good teacher. Maki’s the best of the best; I’m nothing compared to her,” he said modestly, stepping back and dusting himself off, nodding at you in approval.

“I think you don’t give yourself enough credit,” you said, casting the sword aside and beaming at him. “You’ll have Rika freed in no time!”

“I hope so,” he said, eyes crinkling around the corners, “She deserves to move on.”

“Agreed,” you said, “For both of your sakes, I hope she can soon.”

Later, as you were showering, you swore at yourself. What was wrong with you? Why did sparring with Yuta make you feel so strange? Your mock-fights with Maki were nothing like this — the only emotions you ever felt were pain or competitiveness. Practicing with Tullia usually ended with one or both of you laughing to the point of tears. The one time you had faced off against Toge, who had promised to not use his cursed speech, you had almost immediately lost due to his sheer athleticism. But even then, you had only felt embarrassed, not…whatever it was that Yuta evoked in you. It was a problem, a reaction specific to him, and you weren’t sure how you felt about that. You liked it. You didn’t like the fact that you liked it. You scrubbed at your skin in an attempt to make it go away, but it did nothing except for make you feel miserable and raw.

There was a knock at your door; you finished buttoning up your uniform and then went to answer it. To your surprise, it was Toge, holding a plate with a slice of cake on it.

“Is that for me?” you said.

“Salmon,” he said, handing it to you cheerfully.

“Thank you! Do you want to come in?” you said. He shrugged and followed you into the dorm room, standing in the middle as you settled at your desk and began to eat. You nodded at your bed.

“Bonito flakes,” he said immediately. You laughed at his hesitance.

“It’s only a bed, and you’re only sitting. Though, if you could stay on top of the covers, it would be appreciated,” you said. He narrowed his eyes but did as you said, sitting on your bed and observing you.

“Mustard leaf?” he said.

“It’s very good,” you said before you were struck with a fit of bold inspiration, “Say, Toge. I have a question.”

“Salmon,” he said. Perhaps he, with his limited vocabulary, was not the best person to go to for advice, but who else did you have? Tullia was very hit or miss with these types of things, so she would either say something deeply profound or deeply stupid. Maki would probably smack you, Gojo would make fun of you, and Panda…was a panda. Toge, kind, solid Toge, would at least hear you out. Maybe that was what you needed, more than any words of wisdom or plans of action.

“Suppose there’s someone who I’m friends with, but being around them makes me feel funny. Like, when I spar with them I feel all strange and hot inside, and I can’t help staring at them when they’re doing mundane things like drinking water, and I like it when they touch me, even if it’s just something like fixing my position or something while fighting. What does that mean?” you said.

He blinked at you as if processing this. You blinked back and then dug out a piece of paper and pen, handing it to him. He left it blank for a moment, probably trying to figure out what he wanted to say. You waited, continuing to eat the cake he had brought you.

Finally, he scribbled something down and handed it to you. You read it eagerly.

Not to be presumptuous, but it sort of sounds like you have a crush on this person. Which is a problem, because I get the sense we’re not talking about Noritoshi :/

“Uh, no, we’re not, but that’s ridiculous! Me having a crush? No way! I’m engaged!” you said. He snatched the paper back.

Just because you’re engaged doesn’t mean you magically lose the ability to have feelings for people. Is it Maki or Yuta?

“It’s Yuta — I mean, how do you know if it’s either?” you challenged.

Who else would it be? If it were me, you wouldn’t be asking for my help. If it were Tullia, you’d ask Maki for help. Panda…is a panda, so if it were him, we’d have bigger problems than infidelity on our hands.

“It’s not Panda!” you assured him.

I know that. You already said it was Yuta.

“Oh, I was…kind of hoping you didn’t catch that,” you admitted.

Sorry.

“Still, why do you think I have a crush on him?” you said.

Can I tell you a secret?

“I won’t let it leave this room,” you promised, pretending to zip your lips and then throw away an imaginary key. He clapped in approval before writing down a response.

So there’s this girl. Being around her makes me feel funny, and whenever she helps me cook, it makes me feel all strange and hot inside. I always catch myself staring at her, even if all she’s doing is eating her dinner or doing her homework. I really like when she touches me, even if it’s just our hands brushing when she gives me a pencil.

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “I knew it! I knew you liked Tullia! Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul, but just know that I’m your biggest fan! You guys will be so cute.”

Actually, I just rephrased everything you said about Yuta and made it about an imaginary girl. Unrelated, but…how do you know that I like Tullia? Am I being obvious or something?

You ignored his question, gaping at him. He cocked his head in confusion. Was it that simple? Was Toge right? Did you…have a — a — a crush? On Yuta Okkotsu?

“You’ve got to be joking!” you said, bursting into tears.

No, I really don’t want her finding out yet. I don’t think she feels the same way.

“I can’t like Yuta!” you wailed, “I’m supposed to marry Noritoshi! Why can’t I like him? He’s kind, and he’s handsome, and he cares about me, and he’s my future husband! Why don’t I feel this way about him? Why don’t I want to be with him?”

Well, Yuta’s pretty irresistible. It must be that special-grade sorcerer charm.

“Toge!” you snapped. He raised his hands in the air innocently.

Really, though, it’s not something you have control over. Try to think over what it is, exactly, that you like about him.

“He’s loyal, almost to a fault,” you said, remembering how he had carried you out of the school, “He’s brave and strong. He believes in me. He’s humble and caring.”

I’m sure the good looks are an added bonus.

“That, too,” you said, wiping at your face furiously, “Oh, dear, I really do have a crush on him. What do I do now?”

Elope?

“Please be serious,” you said. “After I graduate, I’m expected to marry Noritoshi and bear his children in order to continue the Kamo and L/N lines, as well as restore balance between the Big Three clans. Where does liking Yuta fit into all of that?”

It fits in however you want it to fit in. I’m not really sure what you want from me here.

“Just some advice or something. I’ve never had a crush on anyone! The closest I ever got was picking which sorcerer I’d like to be engaged to the most — before I was promised to Noritoshi,” you said.

Fascinating. It better have been me.

“It was,” you said, seeing no point in hiding it. He snickered devilishly; you were beginning to realize he was far more mischievous than he let on at first impression.

Good.

“Back to the original subject?” you said. He tapped the pen against his temple to signify that he was thinking.

Like I said, it’s really up to you. I can guarantee that if you, say, transfer schools and never speak to him again, your feelings for Yuta will fade. It might take a while, but they will. Is that what you want?

“No!” you said, recoiling at the thought. “How could you suggest that?”

It’s about the only reliable way you’ll get over him, but for some odd reason, it feels like you don’t want to get over him.

“I do want to get over him!” you said. Toge did not seem impressed nor convinced, even going so far as to make a soft, disbelieving humming sound.

Oh, yeah? Even if it means never feeling all hot and strange around him again? Even if it means never letting him touch you again? Even if it means never seeing him again? If you wanted to get over him, you’d be alright with transferring to Kyoto.

“I don’t want to leave you, Tullia, Panda, and Maki,” you said, but the words sounded weak to even your own ears.

If that’s what helps you sleep at night.

“Okay, fine! Maybe I don’t want to get over him! I want to know more about him. I want to know as much about him as I can. But is that even possible when I have this binding me?” you said, flashing your left hand at him. Your engagement ring glimmered in the lamplight.

You sound creepy. And, for what it's worth, no. I don’t think so. Being with Yuta is by nature going against what the higher ups have deemed your path in life. Even a friendship with him is damning; anything more is an outright death sentence. How do you feel about that?

“It’s not fair,” you said helplessly. His eyes softened, and he patted you on the head.

It’s not. I can’t tell you what to do, Y/N. But I’ll support you no matter what, and — sorry if I’m being too invasive or overstepping or anything — from what I can tell, you seem very happy with Yuta. Furthermore, you’re the only person he trusts out of all of us first years.

“You think I should be with him,” you said. He shook his head immediately.

I think you should do whatever you believe to be right. I’m only telling you what I’ve noticed. Perhaps it would be worthwhile for you to spend some time with Noritoshi in light of this development and see how you feel.

“That’s a good idea,” you said, “Thanks.”

Sure, anytime. And don’t worry too much about the higher ups. If they give you trouble, let me know. I’ll handle it.

“I appreciate the offer, but what could you do, realistically?” you said.

Tell them to shit themselves.

You let out a delighted laugh. “I love you.”

I get that a lot.

“Doubtful,” you teased. He neatly folded up the paper he had written on, pretending to scowl at you.

“Bonito flakes,” he said.

“Sorry, sorry. Have a nice night, Toge. Thank you for the cake and for helping me out so much,” you said. He saluted at you and then walked out of the room, tossing the paper into your sweet smelling candle and slamming the door behind him. You watched the flames curl around the white edges until the entire sheet was gone, all evidence of your conversation with Toge disappearing into wisps of smoke.

[wonderstruck-land89]

so basically this is what I got from the ttpd promo:

🤍“i've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you” → the little thrown out papers in the midnights room (x.)

🤍“threw out our cloaks and our daggers because it’s morning now” → “my twisted knife” → “took this dagger in me and removed it” → “the knife cuts both ways” → “one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen” (he may have cheated on her????)

🤍“i got tired of waiting, wondering if you were ever coming around” → “could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me waiting in the cold” → “you know how to keep me waiting, i know how to act like i’m fine” → “the waiting is a sadness fading into madness” → “and all at once you are the one I have been waiting for” → “he'd better lock it down, or I won't stick around cause good ones never wait” → “i wait by the door like I’m just a kid” → “i wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me” → “i sit there silently waiting for you to look up” → “even statues crumble if they're made to wait” (waiting for a marriage proposal maybe?? (x. x. x.))

🤍“lightning strikes every time she moves” → “my eclipsed sun” → “crowd goes wild at her fingertips, half moonshine, full eclipse” (attention never escapes her)

🤍“regretting him was like wishing you never found out that love could be that strong”→ “i just wish I could forget when it was magic” → “i recall late November” → “i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all” (she wanted to remember the relationship in the beginning but not anymore?)

🤍“i’ve been giving out chances every time and all you do is let me down”→ “second, third, and hundredth chances, balancing on breaking branches” → “should i take chances when no one took chances on me?” → “let the games begin” → “lost the game of chance, what are the chances?” (“[…]they've had rough patches before and always worked things out, so friends thought they would take some time apart but eventually come back together […]” x.)

🤍this pic from the library → “cause they got the cages, they got the boxes and guns” → “gold cage, hostage to my feelings” (her feelings were 'hunted' by the media, but then she caged them herself, now they're out (ttpd)?)

🤍this pic from the library → “cause you were never a saint and i loved in shades of wrong” (apparently shades of wrong is now golden??)

🤍“i wake and watch you breathing with your eyes closed” → “clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke” → “when I was drowning, that’s when I could finally breathe” → “you take a deep breath and you walk through the doors” → “and I can’t breathe without you but I have to” → “i hold my breath a little bit longer, halfway out the door but it won't close” → “when the lights go out, it’s hard to breathe” (this could've been her reality in those first few months after the breakup tho, like, she would go onstage and put on a mask, but then she'd crumble alone maybe?) → “let go of the words they hurl your way as you're walking out the door” → “the trick to holding on, was all that letting go” → “in the death of her reputation, she felt truly alive” → “as she was leaving, it felt like she was breathing”

🤍this pic from the library → “when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst” → “I picked the petals, he loves me not”

🤍this pic from the library → “my veins of pitch black ink”

🤍“and you’re thinking we’ll be fine again, but not this time around” → “i say, there’s nothing you can say to make this right again” → “in my dreams you’re touching my face and asking me if i wanna try again with you” → “and all the times i let you in, just for you to go again” → “and there we are again when nobody had to know” → “everybody's waiting for you to break down, everybody's watching to see the fallout” → “come one come all, it’s happening again” (everyone's watching her to now what her next move is)

🤍“love is a ruthless game unless you play it good and right” → “i hate that because of you i can’t love you” → “why’d you have to make me love you?” → “you don’t knock anymore and my whole life’s ruined” → “you’ve ruined my life by not being mine” → “and you know damn well, for you i would ruin myself a million little times” → “but what would you do if i break free and leave us in ruins” → “i love you, it’s ruining my life”

🤍“got a history of stories ending sadly” → “what a sad beautiful tragic love affair” → “the waiting is a sadness fading into madness” → “you make me so happy it turns back to sad” → “no other sadness in the world would do” → “sapphire tears on my face, sadness became my whole sky” → “every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness” “and I never don’t cry at the bar, yeah, my sadness is contagious” → “how long could we be a sad song ‘til we were too far gone to bring back to life?” → “you don’t get to tell me about sad”

🤍“mr. never had to see my cry” → “no apologies, he’ll never see you cry” → “so step right out, there is no amount of crying I can do for you” → “i vowed not to cry anymore if we survived the great war” → “am i allowed to cry?”

🤍“but I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain” → “you haven’t written me or called by goodbye screaming in the silence” → “i screamed so loud but no one heard a thing” → “now your silence has be screaming, screaming” → “stood on the cliffside screaming, “give me a reason”” → “and I still talk to you when i’m screaming at the sky” → “and maybe it’s the past that’s talking, screaming from the crypt” → “old habits die screaming”

i added the ones i remembered, so tell me if i missed any (ik the apple music secret messages aren't here but idk what to relate them with 😔)

[hamliet]

How To Write Badly 101: The Season

Or, I review The Dragon Prince season 4, at the urging of a friend who is much more invested than I am. If you do not want to read immense salt and criticism, this is your warning.

My expectations for were extremely low and somehow the show managed to dig a tunnel beneath and go lower than I thought possible. Disclaimer: I've never been hugely invested, so I'm mostly amused about this game of how low can you go?

Claudia continues to be the only actual character of substance, while Once Characters Rayla and Soren slowly lose their potential. Never a Character Callum continues to be a lamp passed around the plot who gets things just for being a lamp.

A lamp character is a character who could be replaced by a lamp and there'd be minimal to no change on the actual story. It's pretty bad when your main protagonist is a lamp. What makes him even worse than, say, Alina in Grishaverse, is that Callum is treated like he's a special lamp when there's canonically zilch special about him. At least Alina is like, literally light and no one is like her. Callum is just an IKEA piece. He's a mage but cool, what does that cost him?

The time gap supposedly had major events happen off screen--especially romantically. Except... none of it is really explained, and thus it falls flat. Rayla and Callum broke up because there's never been tension between them and they offer each other nothing at all in a ship, which becomes apparent especially when they're together. Breaking them up is a way to at least manufacture tension. If you can call that tension, because their breakup added nothing at all to their character arcs.

Not that Callum's ever had an arc. But honestly, like, you need to show conflict. You need to have Callum saying that it triggers his fear of losing people, show him distressed more than just moping. Show him distressed by his actions, or present passivity as a flaw, but Callum has never had an actual flaw introduced so there's no place for this plotpoint to build besides "let's create tension for shippers."

Rayla... I like her. I want to like her even more, but her leaving is never explained. She seeks Claudia for... reasons? Presumably her parents? But y'know, you need to actually show consequences for leaving, and explain why she decided to come back more than just "the dragon queen was coming!" Was she lonely? What provoked her to come back? What are you trying to tell us? (Nothing. They don't have a story.)

Rayla's choice towards the end of the season was utterly ridiculous. The coins needed to be mentioned, like, way earlier in the season to remind us rather than just coming out of nowhere. Her grief needed to be explored, and her running away was like... an opportunity there, but it wasn't explored, so her choice to trade Terry for the coins had no resonance at the end. There were no consequences, no results, no impact of that choice. It was just empty. Like the show.

Terry... hoo boy. I want to like Terry. I kind of do despite how much of an obvious "morality pet" he is in the plot. His relationship with Claudia is very sweet, but again, it comes from nowhere. We have no exploration of what this means to them, no idea of what drew Terry and Claudia together, no idea of the basis of their emotional bond. You can't build a compelling ship without that.

Lastly, Terry's rebuke of Claudia towards the end was... bizarre, and nonsensical writing-wise. Like. The end of the last season showed a body. Claudia clearly killed people to bring her father back. So why is Terry horrified by Claudia taunting Rayla with fake coins about her parents, especially when it's to save his life? Terry also has previously killed someone who was about to kill Claudia. Make it make sense.

Soren... baby. You absolutely cannot cut the reunion between him and Viren. And yet! They did! I'm sorry but???? You absolutely can't skip that? For either Soren or Viren's arcs? Unless you're dropping both arcs, which it sure looks like you're doing.

Also, the plot. Nothing. Happened. The entire season. We need to free Aaravos in 30 days! At the end of the season, he still ain't free, and I'm begging him to appear because dear dragons someone needs to shake up this world.

Oh, okay, sometimes threats needed to happen. I wouldn't really call it plot, but there were occasional moments of pretend peril. The dragon went nuts in the end and almost killed them for... reasons I guess? I'm sorry but I don't understand why and the why doesn't matter in the end; it was the peril that was important because stakes! Except there aren't any.

Rule 1 of writing: anytime you have "and then" instead of "because" or "but" linking events/plot points, you're f*cked. It's boring.

Also, the sun elf subplot... was awful. Janai had no arc, and the story didn't parallel or link with the A plot. Her romance with Amaya is cute but again, the bond between them is not explored this season--it's told. Show us moments where they only have each other, moments where duty and love both tug at the heart!

The actual story itself was like an attempt to copy Black Panther, with the brother challenging the heir, but make it pointless because boring is clearly the vision they're aiming for. Because the Sun Elf Queen just wins because she's good, and people are good. Which is not itself a bad theme, but the point is that this whole plotline went nowhere and changed nothing for the story as a whole. It's dumb. Listen I am all for optimism in stories, especially those catered towards kids, but make it matter! Otherwise it's just boring!

And sure, maybe these things will matter towards the endgame? Maybe? But it should matter this season as well, and considering how poorly the show has done making everything matter so far, well, I am not holding my breath.

[streetslost]

@boriys ( don't mind making a new thread for our thread, i didn't use beta apparently on my first post and so trim reblogs was not functioning so jUST STARTING A NEW ONE TO AVOID THE ANNOYANCE- ) cont.

               IF ONLY SCREAMING INTO THE OBLIVION was a viable way of solving problems.  of doing more than just providing a release from the energy and anger; a TEMPORARY one.  a bottle screwed tightly shut yet somehow still always filling back up, thriving and pushing and growing all the more intense with every day that passed.  it was a slow buildup, perhaps, but still an ever forming danger.  to herself, to others... the b u r s t whenever it happened was sudden and intense.  was sharp and powerful.  cat feared her own edges, not that such an addmittance would ever leave her.  she couldn't afford to nestle in concerns ( literally and figuratively ).  survival was maintained, and the forced smile, the forced bravery against every little thing would forever get yanked into place.  until she shattered and split and broke and took anyone nearby down with her.          over and over and over and over... a cycle, a repetition, a drumbeat keeping the rhythm of a song.  inescapable.  at least for now, though the street rat hadn't done much to try and alleviate herself from the routine.  just suffer and wane.  just d e c a y.  ( she deserved it, she did, no one wanted her, no one needed her, she was just a waste of space, taking up air, taking up room, wasting food, was-  wait what? )                      attention snapped back to him, and frustration etched her features at the comment provided.  her height was a sensitive subject.  it was a sign of her poor health, of her life falling into ruins.  he couldn't have known that from a glance, but cat still grated her teeth together, the huff audible through gritted teeth.  words remained trapped behind the whites, where lips carved once more into her HALF crazed grin, instead managing to distract herself with the yell he would unleash himself.  it was similar but different.  his looks mirrored as such, as well.  clearly on the road, but not for as long.  there was still something fresh about the vibe he held.  or perhaps it was simply the fact he didn't seem trodden as she.

       "thinking tha' doesn't mean much," dry tone slipped out.  features finally eased, and apathy resumed its play.  the comment of her stature hadn't been forgotten, but brunette decided to let it slip... briefly.  it wasn't like he was stating anything WRONG, just a fact that she despised.  tongue swiped her lips, the cracks of dry flesh stinging with the sensation.  "people will hear someone in distress and do nothing unless it benefits them.  but guess i'd still rather do it out here where there's less likely t'be any sort of attention.  why you out here?"                  perhaps she knew the answer... perhaps not.  regardless, cat filled the void with her inquiry, hands still shoved deep in her pockets and tennis shoes scuffing the ground in effort to kick a rock down along the track.

[baladric]

i go through a lot of brainworms, most of them quite quickly (goblin emperor excepted, that one’s eternal entirely bc it is so fucking good and there’s such a broader world to flesh out freely, which is my FAVE), but i suspect the reason the stranger things garbage has me in such a chokehold is how abysmal the duffers’ worldbuilding is. because apparently i love nothing more than a poorly-assembled puzzle to fix! (read more’d because this is annoying and long)

like, the first season establishes such a fascinating alternate world with all of these Questions to answer—how is the demogorgon transporting people/itself? what’s with the egg casing hopper finds in the upside down? why does the demogorgon simply take will, not once, but twice, when we know it kills at least two of the five other people it takes—and what is up with the use of the hawkins public library as a hub of sorts in which to stash will after he’s seemingly installed in the hive mind? great questions! great, concrete questions that would be so easy to answer with season 2 and beyond!

and yet! not only are they distinctly not answered (sorry, but ThE mInD fLaYeR is not an answer to the question of Who Is Running The Upside Down’s Show, nor is vecna’s extremely belated intro in any way a satisfactory answer to that question), they’re very often completely overwritten or ditched by the wayside. everyone just stops giving a shit that the upside down’s atmosphere is toxic, nor does anyone ever see any health problems from exposure (hopper and joyce take their hoods off when they find will and definitely need a couple hours to haul him back out of there afterwards! and even if the goggles+bandanas combo did fuck-all for the kids/steve in the tunnels in s2, which i highly doubt, dustin still fully inhales a bunch of spores! plus nancy, robin, steve and eddie are down there for most of a day and come out a-okay, aside from bat injuries!) it’s explicitly stated later that the upside down creatures can only operate with extant gates opened from topside hawkins, so the demogorgon’s power to open smaller, more direct gates is nerfed out of existence! demogorgons apparently grow from little parasitic larvae, so the egg casings in the upside down are also voided as a worldbuilding aspect, unless the implication is that there are other very large creatures wandering around, which i highly doubt is anything the duffers have considered and/or care about! and then there’s everything with eleven, which is just... so fucking handwaved!

like what do you mean dosing a bunch of people in the 60s up with LSD and tossing them in iso tanks produced psychic kids? and how the fuck does some telekinesis and some gentle telepathy yield eleven’s connection to the in-between? and clearly she’s innately connected to the upside down itself, otherwise what random kind of bullshit is it that the hole she opened and shoved creel through just happened to dump him in this blighted fucking hellscape? did she make the upside down?? and are we just gonna eternally ignore that she has an aneurysm every time she uses her powers??? like!!!

it’s just so infuriating, the degree to which the duffers are just fucking around in here, hamfisting these big lame dramatic plots when there are so many sick-ass ways they could have structured a really great, cohesive, multi-season arc for the grand fucking history of the upside down and its ability to creep into the minds of humans (how else do you explain vecna getting to chrissy without any open gates?). and not just “the secret was socipoathic ecofascism the whole time, and some russians too”—like you could give us the why on this world’s impressionability (will’s entry just... spawning a copy of hawkins in a limited radius around himself) in juxtaposition with its already extant life forms (creel sees demogorgons and the particles that form the mind flayer on his initial entry, seven years pre-canon). because something has clearly happened to the upside down! one feels so loudly that it wasn’t always like this, because if it were, where the fuck did the fauna come from, and why are they so limited in scope? why is the only flora unrelated to will’s copy of hawkins, like. sentient fucking vines? what’s with the floating fucking rock-islands??

it could be! so good! it could be fucking edible! and yet, the duffers just wanna talk about mike wheeler and child experimentation. fuckin rip, i will probably not recover until i write some troublingly elaborate bullshit about upside down druid!eddie and how he revives the upside down to its former glory before going home to kiss steve harrington’s extremely dumb face.