#there is a line and it can be treaded and sometimes it's NOT that serious

[lemonhemlock]

so, i'm going through your anti team black tag and living my best life, but one post in particular that you made got me thinking.

“george made damn sure rhaenyra’s bloodline sat on the throne at the end bc, if the hightowers won, house targaryen would have been reformed, and he couldn’t kill them all off at the end of the main series”

i'm pretty sure this might've just been a joke, but it makes me curious. do you think something like a targaryen reformation would be possible, hypothetically speaking? i certainly wouldn't mind it in a "greens win" AU scenario, but that's just me. i wanna know if anyone else sees potential in this. 💚💚💚

Hello, yes, this was mostly a joke, as it happens. 😅 (anon is referring to this post) To introduce another lengthy parenthesis, I remember at the time that some of the reactions to that post were in the range for "why doesn't anyone understand that the Hightowers are also feudal lords vying for their own interests and not some great reformists out to save Westeros", which... Listen. 😄 To put equitably, this fandom has a considerable issue with knowing when to level criticism and when to just treat banter as lighthearted horsing around and not take it too seriously. Something which even I'm not exempt from, I don't think. 🤷‍♀️

So, in the interest of making a meme, that post was kind of half-true in that it simplified a more nuanced concept (that was never an avenue that the author decided to explore anyway) for the sake of humour. I have, in the past, detailed my thoughts on House Hightower and what I think is their role in the wider narrative. This is based on the information we have on them presently. If I'm wrong, then I'm wrong. Who knows, maybe Lord Leyton and Melara plan on blowing Oldtown up for shits and giggles. We don't have to guess everything correctly - another aspect this community struggles with in their fandom wars and obsession with having the most correct, morally pure take.

Regardless, yes, the Hightowers obviously are a privileged family at the top of the social food chain, benefitting from the exploitation awarded by feudalism - a political-economic system based on vast inequality. Therefore, any type of reform they might be willing to undertake will be limited and not really something that significantly changes the status-quo. Just like the beloved, fan-favourite, and mostly confirmed "winners" - the Starks. A third element that our fandom has trouble accepting is the concept of incremental change. I feel like it would basically be a truism to point out that incremental change has been the most reliable vector of socio-economic evolution throughout human history. So, bad news for them, I suppose, but any superficial study of history will reveal that feudalism hardly collapsed overnight. Which leads us back to the idea that any small change, no matter how limited, does matter in the long run, because, as time passes, it will be compounded with another small change and so on.

Anyway, coming back to the question. Would Targaryen reformation be possible? Certainly! GRRM could have made up any story he wanted. Anything is possible if you plan for it and it makes sense within your worldbuilding. As it stands, the Targaryens are foreigners with a questionable culture, hailing from a land that used to engage in practices that even the feudal Westerosi found backwards, distasteful, barbaric or immoral: slavery, human sacrifice, incest, great feats of violence such as pillaging and conquering neighbouring lands for the sake of feeding their population to their volcano gods etc. The Targaryens also have fire-breathing monsters that, while not exactly enough all the time to prevent any rebellions from happening, are weapons that no one else has access to and that can cause a great deal of damage that no one else can replicate.

So, in order to "reform" and integrate, they would need to renounce all that. They would need to do it the traditional way. They do some of the work, but never go all the way. They accept the main religion of the land, but they don't let go of inter-marrying, because they don't want to lose their access to dragons. There are attempts to integrate, but, by the time of the events of the main series, they have returned to incest. Funnily enough, Aegon V plays a role in both - he marries outside of the family and has no dragons left, but his succeeding son and daughter marry each other and, eventually, Aegon decides that bringing back dragons is not such a bad idea after all. I do think that the symbolic weight of Daenerys having both her parents and her grandparents as brother-sister sets is laying the "dragon blood" metaphor thick - and that it holds more magical weight than any mathematical calculation of her actual watered-down Targaryen DNA.

In any such scenario where GRRM decided to go down a Targaryen reformation path, IMO it would have been thematically-relevant to ease into it via a marriage alliance with one of the oldest families in Westeros - a well-respected, rich house that also has close links to both the only centre of higher education and the main religious organization in the land. Hence the meme. :) But it doesn't last and the Targaryens go back to their dastardly ways eventually, that's the point of them in the story, because the author chose it to be the point.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Just Like Dad (3 of 4)

Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff

Word Count: 804

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Soap stumbles through an explanation when faced with a barrage of questions.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist

Johnny is a firecracker. The spark from struck flint.

He dives in headfirst, charges forward, his actions led by his head and his heart. Johnny might be high-strung at times. Rambunctious and eager. Sometimes he’s stubborn when it comes to people and things he cares about.

All of that is true. And all of it is also reflected in his six-year-old daughter.

The two of them stand in the middle of the kitchen. Johnny has his hands on his hips. His daughter mimics his movements, forcing all her attitude into it, even adding a single arched eyebrow. Johnny would laugh but he’s trying to be serious.

She looks so much like her mother it’s startling.

He’s trying to keep his demeanor calm under the barrage of questions about his job. His daughter is a curious creature. She wants to know everything, oftentimes asking so many questions at once they start to run together.

Usually, Johnny is indulgent. He loves nourishing that curiosity. But right now, that curiosity is treading on dangerous territory. Of everything Johnny is protective of, it’s his daughter. But more than that, it’s to protect her from the realities of his career.

It isn’t pretty. It isn’t clean.

And she’s asking endless questions. So many that they’re melting together, pushing him toward every bad mission and terrible death.

“That’s not one of the questions,” he replies cooly, nodding toward the piece of paper resting on the kitchen table.

It’s a questionnaire. One the school sends that has her basic interests along with information about family. She’ll use it for projects and to make connections with classmates. It’s a standard thing, something sent out early in the schoolyear as a form of introduction.

His daughter stands mute. Unmoving. She’s trying to be tough, and while it makes his heart warm with pride, it’s also incredibly frustrating.

“I’ll answer the questions on your paper. Nothing more.” Johnny is setting a boundary because it’s all he can do. He won’t lie to her, but he’s not going to swim through rough waters.

Her bottom lip pops out in a pout and Johnny sighs, crossing his arms. “Why do you want to know so bad?”

She takes a deep breath, shoulders softening. “Because I want to be like you when I grow up.”

Because I want to be like you when I grow up.

The automatic response is “no.” That isn’t what she wants or will ever want. All she knows are the friendly faces, of how Simon’s mask is way too big for her head, or Price’s hugs which she loves more than anything.

Those are not the realities. Those are soft things. Pieces that keep her satiated.

“Why do you want to be like me?” he asks slowly, chest slightly tight with dread.

“Why not?” she shrugs, as if that is a perfectly logical stance.

Where is his wife when he needs you? You would help. You would distract and move her on to something else so that Johnny doesn’t have to flounder under all these questions. She came like a fury of rapidly popping fireworks, peppering him until she finally ended her chatter with wide eyes and heaving chest.

Why not?

Because there are dark tendrils that cling to him that won’t let go. She doesn’t need those. She shouldn’t have to carry those burdens with her everywhere.

There is no reason to crush her dreams. There is no reason to smack this idealism down. Not yet. When she’s older, Johnny can be clearer, he can be more upfront about the toll this line of work has taken on him.

Sighing, he walks up to the kitchen table, picking up her sparkly purple pencil. It is rough against his fingertips as he bends at the waist to peer at the questionnaire. She stands next to him, watching intently, leaning on an elbow, peering over his arm as he starts to fill out information on the page.

Johnny takes his time. He is truthful in his answers. He is part of The Special Air Service. He runs covert missions. He vaguely lists out what a day might look like for him when he’s not deployed. His daughter watches on, saying nothing.

 But there is no snarky comment or attitude that he usually expects from her.

“Thank you, Daddy,” is all she says, neatly folding the paper in half to stuff into her schoolbag. Johnny offers her the glittery purple pencil and she takes that too.

He bends at the knees, getting on her level. “Want to help me start dinner?”

“Yes!” she beams.

“Grab a chair,” he says, nodding toward the dining table.

She drags it across the floor, pushing it up against the bottom cabinets. She turns, smile wide, hands clasped eagerly in front of her.

This is the distraction he needs.

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair

[drabbles-mc]

So Serious

Sydney Adamu x GN!Reader

Warnings: 18+, canon-typical arguing/light angst, language, mentions of smoking, pining

30 Fic Challenge with prompts from This List: aspectabund- letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: my first Syd/Reader fic! i love her! that's all!

The tension in the kitchen was suffocating, had been for weeks. Everyone knew it and no one was saying anything about it. Tendrils of it managed to slip out to the front of the house every now and then, weaseling its way out as staff filtered back and forth between the two halves of the restaurant. Most of the time it dissipated before it landed at a table full of customers, but sometimes the cloud of it was thick enough to cover them in it too.

In every restaurant you’d worked in, there had always been some level of chaos. It seemed unavoidable in a way, the way that most chefs were wired. Short fuses abound. The Bear wasn’t any different in that regard, but there was a weariness permeating the restaurant that you weren’t quite used to. You felt like you were supposed to be doing something about it, but there was nothing to be done. Like most things, the issues themselves were far above your paygrade. You focused on treading carefully and running plates—those were the things that you had control over.

Once the last table of customers had left, once the cleanup in the front of the house was done, most of the waitstaff scampered right on out the door. You didn’t blame them for that, and neither did Richie, judging by the tired, dejected look on his face. The two of you weren’t exactly close, but he also had a way of making people feel like they were a friend of sorts, or a frenemy if nothing else. You enjoyed that about him most of the time, but you noticed that even he was starting to lose that spark.

“Need anything?” you asked as he idly messed with the forks and napkins on one of the two-tops.

He didn’t look at you as he shook his head. “I’m all good. You can,” he sighed and finally forced his eyes off the table and over to yours, “you can go home.”

You wanted to offer again, press a little harder about it, but you didn’t. You’d been successful at staying out of the line of fire so far, and you wanted to keep it that way. “Okay,” you conceded with a nod. “I’m just gonna toss my stuff in the back and take off, then.”

His attention as already redirecting elsewhere as he nodded. “Night.”

“Night—see you tomorrow.”

You walked away, looking back at him over your shoulder just long enough to see that even though he was staring at the table in front of him, his mind was miles and miles away. The frown on your face appeared like a reflex. Still, you forced yourself to keep walking until you reached the door that led back to the kitchen.

The second you pushed the door open you were hammered with the sound of Carmy and Syd going back and forth. You had grown used to the tension, the pockets of yelling that broke out between Carmy and Richie, between Carmy and Natalie too. It wasn’t even the first time you’d heard Carmy yell at Sydney.

It was the first time, though, that you heard Sydney sound like she was about to start yelling back. You saw the way that they were standing on either side of the main station in the center of the kitchen. Carmy had his palms flat against the countertop—you could tell how harshly he was pressing down into it by the tension in his arms. Sydney, on the other hand, had her arms folded across her chest, instead holding all of her tightness in her jaw as she waited for Carmy to finish his piece. Gearing up to volley the argument right back to him. Round and round again.

You were just trying to slink past them to the very back of house, towards the office and the lockers. You kept your chin tucked and your eyes aimed at the floor as you went. You knew that you were going to have to go around one of them to get to where you needed to go. There wasn’t a good option and for a moment you wondered if it would be worth it to just catch an Uber home rather than getting your car keys—you were just going to be back tomorrow anyway.

As you went by Sydney, you mumbled an extremely quiet, “Behind,” out of habit. You regretted it even as you were saying it as it felt like you were inadvertently adding yourself to the conversation, but the action was so ingrained in you now that you couldn’t help it.

The same reflex had her shifting slightly to give you more room before she fully realized what was happening. “Sorry,” she muttered, louder than you’d been but not by much. Then she looked over her shoulder and saw it was you and the features of her face softened just a touch. Her eyes went from annoyed to genuinely apologetic, her lips tugging into a small frown for a moment as she repeated herself, this time with more earnestness in her voice. “Sorry, Chef.”

You knew that she was apologizing for more than the few seconds that had just passed. You also knew that the things that she was really saying sorry for, weren’t really hers to take ownership of that way. But you’d get a hundred apologies from Sydney before you got a single one from the man who was currently scrutinizing the two of you.

“It’s okay,” you said, giving her a quick nod before walking as fast as you could without breaking into a run to get to the back.

You let out a sigh of relief when the lockers came into your field of view, the feeling in your lungs telling you that at some point you’d begun holding your breath. The strides that carried you over to your locker felt much more fluid than the ones that had gotten you through the main drag of the kitchen.

The latch on your locker door let out its signature metallic clank as you lifted it, a sound that seemed so loud in the silence of the back area. You went to pull the door open, and the creaking of it was immediately drowned out by Carmy’s yelling. You winced at the sound, glad that you didn’t have to spend your whole shift listening to it.

Then you heard Sydney starting to yell right back. “No, what I’m asking for is that you listen to me and maybe even, oh I don’t know, talk to me instead of just making all of these decisions alone. We’re supposed to be part—”

“Well you still haven’t signed the fucking agreement so I guess we’re not.”

Neither of them had noticed that you were lingering just within viewing range of them again. You’d lasted until you heard the scathing sarcasm dripping from Syd’s tone when she said ‘asking for’ before going back again.

The business side of things was well outside your jurisdiction—you knew that. But even so, you knew that what Carmy had just said was a low-blow. Syd’s eyes widened, her head tilting just slightly for a moment. You were holding your breath again, wondering if she was going to lunge across the counter at him—you wouldn’t have blamed her for it. You probably wouldn’t have tried to stop her either.

“If that’s what you need,” she was making short, angry gestures with her hands now, rage written all over her face, “to take me seriously, to take me opinions and feelings into consideration—”

“This, this isn’t about your fuckin’ feelings, Syd!”

The short laugh she let out was a cruel one. “No? Because it definitely seems to be all about yours!”

He was shaking his head, suddenly unable to look at her again. “I, I don’t, I don’t need this.” He pushed himself back and away from the counter.

Syd rolled her eyes as he started to walk away, and you were too busy watching her to register the fact that Carmy was walking towards you. “Wow, yeah, alright. Good talk, Chef. Glad we got all that sorted out.” She was shaking her head as she turned to follow him with her gaze, more snarky commentary on the tip of her tongue until she saw it was you standing there and not Carmy. Her expression faltered. “Shit, I’m, uh, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to listen—”

“It’s fine,” you told her with a small shake of your head. Then you caught yourself and let out an awkward laugh as you tried to recover. “I mean, it’s not—you know…”

She quiet chuckle she let out had a weariness to it, but you still took it as a bit of a win. “I know.”

She took a breath to say something else but before she could, the sound of Carmy slamming his locker shut echoed throughout the kitchen. She tilted her head back and stared up at the ceiling like she was about to start praying for answers. She watched as Carmy came tearing back through, his jacket only half-on. The exasperation was weighing on every single feature of her face as she tried to call after him only to get ignored. You went from staring at her to staring at the floor. Both of you vaguely heard Richie calling after him, having no greater success than Sydney had.

Seconds later Richie came striding into the kitchen, pointing his thumb back over his shoulder in the direction of the front door to the restaurant. “Yo, Syd, what the fuck did you say to that little jagoff?”

She shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose for a moment. “Oh, you didn’t hear?”

He scoffed, then shrugged. “No, I mean, I heard. I just figured it was the professional thing to do to pretend I didn’t. What—” He paused when he saw you standing there, looking as awkward as he’d ever seen you. “What the hell are you still doing here? Thought you were heading home?”

Syd answered for you. “Got caught up being a material witness to an attempted murder.”

That got a chuckle out of all three of you but it was Richie who spoke up first as he looked at Sydney. “You woulda beat Carmy’s ass.”

She laughed. “Well, yeah. No question.” Taking a deep breath, she looked over at Richie. “You should head out, get some rest.”

He nodded, not looking for an argument on that. “You too.”

She nodded right back but made no move to leave. “I will.”

You should’ve counted the seconds that passed with the three of you standing there in silence all waiting for one of the others to start heading out first. You still didn’t even have your backpack. The quiet continued and suddenly the mantra of every second counts felt more like a threat than anything else.

Richie caved first, digging out his car keys from his pocket. “Right, well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow then.”

“Goodnight, Richie,” Syd said with a nod, crossing her arms once more.

You and Richie exchanged another brief goodbye before he was turning on his heel and leaving. Sydney watched him until he disappeared out the front door and you found yourself doing the same. Once he was gone, Syd was staring at the empty dining room and you were staring at her.

“He’s right,” you finally said, still looking at her. You waited until she turned to face you. “You should get some rest too.”

She sighed as she nodded. “I know.”

You cocked your head to the side. “You heading out, then?”

Dragging her hands down her face, she nodded. “I guess so, yeah.”

You chuckled and nodded. “C’mon, I’ll walk out with you."

The two of you walked back towards the lockers. You had to actually grab your things for real this time and Syd needed to swap out and collect hers as well. You could feel it in the air between you that there was something more she wanted to say, another apology or some kind of explanation. Not that you needed one from her.

Yours was the only locker door that was open, betraying how you’d abandoned your mission to leave earlier. The sight of it got a soft chuckle out of Syd. You were shaking your head, knowing what she was thinking without her even saying it.

“I’m nosey,” you said with a laugh as you went and grabbed your backpack off the hook, your jacket too. “Sue me.”

Syd was still smiling and shaking her head as she opened up her own locker. “I’m sure you could’ve heard us even if you didn’t come back out there.” She slipped on her coat and grabbed her tote bag before looking at you again. “I am sorry about that. Really."

You shrugged as you shut your locker. “It’s fine—I know how it goes."

She looked pensive for a moment before she asked, “The other spots you worked in…they were like this?”

You huffed out a tired laugh as you put one strap of your backpack on your shoulder. “Well, not exactly like this.”

Syd’s smile was a half-hearted one as she said, “It’s that bad?”

You immediately shook your head. “No. I mean, well,” you laughed as the two of you started to make your way back to the main part of the kitchen, “it's different here. I’ve never…” You trailed off, wanting to make sure you chose your words carefully. “I’ve never worked at a spot this new.” You shrugged as you crossed the threshold into the dining room, watching Syd flick off the lights on her way. “You guys are still figuring it out.”

“Carmy’s figuring it out,” Syd corrected under her breath, the bitterness in her tone not directed at you.

You gave her a sympathetic smile. “So I heard.”

“Sor—”

You waved her off. “Richie talks shit about him to me too. What’d he say that one time…” You paused as you wracked your brain for the right words. It took a moment but your face lit up with recognition. “He said Carmy was going ‘all fuckin’ cowboy with this shit', which was hilarious for a lot of reasons.”

Must’ve been to her, too, because she was laughing as the two of you reached the main door. There was a split second after she turned off the lights when you couldn’t see her but you could hear her laughter. Then she opened the door and stepped onto the sidewalk, the streetlamps of Chicago illuminating her once more.

“He hears Richie say that,” she said as she turned to lock up, “and he’ll come in wearing a sheriff’s badge.”

“Yeehaw,” you said, your tone flat and pseudo-serious enough to get both of you breaking down into laughter again. It was good to hear it—it was good to hear her like that.

“God,” she shook her head as she stuffed her hands in the pockets of her coat.

“It’ll be fine.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Promise?”

You chuckled, making a big show of looking anywhere but at her. “Ah, shit, you know, I really gotta…gotta get going…” you trailed off as you started to laugh again. When the moment quieted again you said, “Try not to let it eat you alive.”

“Too late,” she joked. “Ask my medicine cabinet full of Pepto."

You smiled. “Ulcers are a bitch, huh?” You adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Still better than smoking though. That shit takes forever to quit.”

“I’m about to tell Carmy to pick it up again. That gum is not it for him,” she punctuated her statement with a laugh.

“Know what I do instead now?”

“Eavesdrop on everyone’s conversations?”

You waved her off good-naturedly before bringing your bag so that it was in front of you. “I did that shit while I was still smoking too.”

You unzipped the small pocket of your backpack and stuck your hand in. All that could be heard for a moment was the crinkling of wrappers and the confusion mixed with curiosity on Sydney’s face was priceless. You held your hand out to her, a few small candies in your palm.

She laughed. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “So serious.” You moved your hand a little closer to her. “Want one?”

She thought about it for all of a second before she reached and gingerly took one from your hand. She pulled on the ends of the butterscotch wrapper to open it. You mirrored her actions as she popped it into her mouth.

“So,” she started, speaking around the candy now tucked in her cheek, “you combat lung cancer and stomach ulcers with…granny candy?”

You burst out laughing at that, shoving your candy wrapper back into the pocket of your bag before slinging it back onto your shoulder. You pulled the other strap on as well as you nodded. “Hey, it works. Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“Yeah,” you watched as she moved the candy from one side of her mouth to the other, “we'll see.”

There was a pause, one that dragged on just a little too long. Goodbyes were in order but neither of you were looking to be the first one to say it. It was stupid, really—you’d be back here in less than twenty-four hours.

“I should—”

“You need—”

You both started and stopped at the same time, laughing softly at the stumbled words. Sydney gestured for you to go first, so you did.

“You need a lift home?”

She shook her head immediately, slight, determined frown on her face. “No, no, that’s okay.”

“You sure?” You pulled your car keys from your jacket pocket. “It’s not a problem.”

“I’m fine, really. Besides,” she offered a small smile, “if you see the matchbox I now call my home, I’m afraid you might lose all the respect you have for me.”

You rolled your eyes, a warm smile on your face that paled in comparison to the heat warming your cheeks as you said, “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

There was a smile tugging at her lips, one that she fought to keep under control. She wished she could blame the wave of jitters on a sugar rush but she’d need to steal just about your entire stash for that to be a good enough excuse.

“You’re sure it’s not a problem?”

You shook your head. “Not at all. Just, you know,” you shrugged as you started walking towards the car, “don’t let me get lost.”

“Lucky for you I was gifted with a great sense of direction.”

You smiled as you looked over at her, her strides matching yours almost perfectly in-sync. “That feels like sarcasm but I hope it’s not—I don’t really feel like exploring new sides of Chicago in the middle of the night.”

Syd chuckled. “No faith.”

You stopped next to your car and it was only then that you realized Syd had never seen it before. If she had, she wouldn’t have nearly kept walking right on by it. You smiled as you cleared your throat to get her attention. She stopped and turned to face you, eyes growing just a little wider as you leaned against the driver’s side of your car.

“Just let me clear off the seat real quick.”

There wasn’t much there. An old sweatshirt you kept on hand just in case, a handful of large straws that you took from the fast-food place at the end of the block by your apartment because they had big straws and for some reason the coffee shop always gave you small ones even though you ordered a large iced coffee every morning. Syd didn’t seem to bat an eye at any of it, or the random items that were currently cluttering your back seat.

She plopped down in the passenger seat and set about buckling in, her tote bag placed nicely on the floor between her feet. You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you buckled in yourself. You tried not to think too much about any of it, about the butterflies in your stomach or the way that the outside of Syd’s arm was pressed against yours on the console. You were going to reach to turn the volume up on the radio but now you just didn’t want to break the contact.

“So,” you turned and looked at her, knowing that there was no hiding all the different emotions on your face, but you tried in vain anyway, “where am I taking you?”

“Home, hopefully,” she joked. She looked back and forth between your eyes, and both of you pretended, for the sake of your sanity, not to notice when her gaze flicked down to your lips for the briefest moment. She cleared her throat, nodding towards the road in front of you. “You can just, uh, take a left at the end of the block here.”

You nodded. “Got it.”

You had to move your arm to put the car in drive, not that you wanted to. There was something that should’ve felt daunting about her sitting in the shotgun seat, but it wasn’t weighing on you the way you thought it would. It was a relief, really, when you put your arm back on the console and hers was still there, pressed right up against yours again. You smiled as you watched the road, and pretended not to notice the way that Syd was smiling at you.

(divider by @silkholland 💕)

The Bear Taglist (if you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!): @garbinge @withmyteeth @darqchilddaydreamz @hausofmamadas @narcolini

@ashlingiswriting @fromirkwood @justreblogginfics

[aerequets]

hug your grief close

ao3

summary: “You came to watch her, right?” He asks, making her tense up. But he doesn’t sound accusatory—he speaks plainly. “You’ve been doing that every night.”

Shock curls in her belly. “You knew?”

rating: G

genres: light angst, hurt/comfort

a/n: **based on events in ch 70 onwards of the manga!!**

it seems like i can only write and post fics that are written in one sitting. anyways, this is my first yor-pov fic! i dont rlly know how i feel about this one. it's more serious which i feel is harder to pull off but i should probably go to sleep so im just posting it even though it may not make sense <3 enjoy and thank you for reading!

title taken from a (very roughly) translated line of a poem by Allama Iqbal

Yor has started watching Anya sleep.

On the days Yor puts her to bed, she hums her a lullaby, sometimes reads her a story, until the girl’s eyes finally droop shut. Before, she would tiptoe out of the room once Anya’s light snores filled the air. Now, she stays frozen by the bedside until her legs are creaking when she gets up. She doesn’t even do anything most nights—just traces the soft curve of Anya’s cheek with her knuckles, sometimes. Smooths down her fine hair.

Eyes the faint marks on her neck until her jaw aches from grinding her teeth.

She’s a little embarrassed by this new ritual of hers, especially since Anya herself seems so unruffled by the events from the week prior. A bus hijacking, a terrorist threat, bomb collars—and Anya is cheery, ecstatic at the second stella she has received for her bravery. Her bravery. Yor does not want a little first grader to have to be brave, not like that, but she fears voicing this strange thought will expose her for the fake mother she is, just like her new obsession with making sure Anya is breathing will expose her as an assassin. The assassin that failed to kill all of Red Circus. The assassin that, inadvertently, put this girl’s life in danger.  

It is why she keeps her nighttime habit a secret. She takes extra caution to slip out silently—which, given her natural tread, ensures she’s quieter than a breeze—so that Loid will never find out. She feels a different kind of guilt when she sees him. She came into this family and put his own daughter in danger, and now she kneels by that girl’s bedside as if she has any right to. But every night, the desperation wins out over the guilt and she stays.

It’s different tonight, because Yor isn’t able to tuck Anya in. She comes back home late from a job—a job in which she has to triple, quadruple check to make sure she’s truly eviscerated every last person, which takes an extra thirty minutes. She had told Loid not to stay up, that she’d be really late, and had apologized for leaving the nighttime chores to him. He’d smiled, benign, and told her not to worry. The guilt multiplied. He probably wouldn’t be smiling at her if he knew she was the reason his precious daughter almost died.

The house is dark and silent. Yor knows how to pick apart the shadows and see if people are hiding, so she knows their apartment is free of danger, yet her heart rate still spikes up. She hasn’t seen Anya yet.

She quietly slips out of her work clothes, changes into pajamas, and ties her hair back before tiptoeing into the hallway. She keeps the lights off, but the moonlight from the living room window illuminates her surroundings and sends a slat of light into Anya’s room as she cracks the door.

A slat of light that falls onto Loid’s form before she can pick him out in the dark.

She freezes as Loid turns around and meets her eyes. Guilt and panic slam into her from opposite ends, and she has to stop herself just in time from crushing the door handle in her fist.

What is he doing here? Is her first thought before she’s scolding herself. What kind of question is that? She ’s the intruder here. She has to make up an excuse.

“I—I was—”  She left something in Anya’s room? But she never comes in here unless she’s tucking her in. She hasn’t been in Anya’s room all day. She has no reason to be here. “Um…”

“Come in,” he whispers, catching her off guard. She hesitates before slipping inside and closing the door behind her. It’s only once she’s inside that she registers the way he’s sitting, parallel to Anya’s bed with his legs bent and arms wrapped around. She imagines he might lean his head on his arms to look at Anya’s face. It’s the way she does it.

“You came to watch her, right?” He asks, making her tense up. But he doesn’t sound accusatory—he speaks plainly. “You’ve been doing that every night.”

Shock curls in her belly. “You knew?”

He shifts and does exactly what she’d envisioned before, leaning his head into the crook of his arms. Curled up by Anya’s bed, house clothes wrinkled and hair mussed, Yor thinks he’s like an unraveled ball of soft yarn. In the past week, Loid had been the same calm, collected rock for the family that he’d always been. While she felt like she was going to fall apart, he remained orderly and efficient, sorting matters out with the school and doing whatever else was needed without so much as a frown. She didn’t see him keel over once. She had the brute strength, but between the two of them, she thought he held it together far better than she ever could.

“I saw you,” he says, breaking her out of her thoughts. “I do the same thing.”

“Oh.” The shock quickly turns into remorse. Has he been waiting for her to leave Anya’s room this whole past week so he can get time with his daughter? She’s been getting in the way of this real parent and child, and selfishly so. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get in the way.”

“What?” He straightens. “You aren’t.”

“R-right…” she replies, shaky. It suddenly hits her—she has no right to be here. Not just in Anya’s room, but here. In this family. Maybe she could have fooled herself into thinking it was alright before, but now? Now Anya has the marks of a collar on her neck. Loid is the one who deserves to tuck her into bed and see that she’s sleeping and content, not the one who put her at risk to start with. If only I’d been more careful, more diligent. If only I’d been better. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone—”

“Wait.” He’s reached up and caught her hand in his own. The sensation is so warm and jarring that all Yor can do is blink, bewildered. He releases her hand just as quickly, hovering in the air. “Um, sorry. I just…” He looks up at her. She feels like she is caught in time as he searches her face—for what, she doesn’t know. His face is stonecut, sharp planes softened by the cloak of night and muted moonlight beyond Anya’s curtains. His eyes are inscrutable as ever, but she has to tamp nerves down for every second that goes by. Her heart, wretched thing, has no sense of time or place and is beating nearly out of her chest.

“Don’t go,” he says eventually. Her expression must not inspire confidence, because he repeats, “Don’t go. She needs you here.” And then, swallowing as if trying to force the words down and barely audible: “I need you here.”

She sits down across from him, mirroring his position. She knows she shouldn’t be here, but how is she supposed to say no to that?  

They’re silent for a while. Yor turns to look at Anya, at the gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath the sheet. They were so close to losing it all. Yor has come much closer to death, but has never felt as scared of it as she is now.

The first thing she’d felt last week upon finding out was rage, white-hot and searing. It was exactly the thing Garden condemned, and heavens knew Yor had nearly two decades to flush that volatility out of her system, but it was inexplicably there. She thought the only thing that could quell that rage would be drenching her hands in Red Circus blood. Until she saw Loid’s face.

His expression had been tight. Most of all, it had been closed off. She felt like he usually had a placating smile at the ready, so he had almost felt like a stranger, tense and coiled up to strike. She saw him wring his hands. Then the rest of what happened had been a blur, a whirlwind of calls and schoolbuses and frantic media until they had Anya nestled in their arms, maybe too tight but assuredly safe.

The thing was, by the time they’d been made aware of the situation, it had already been mostly taken care of. Yor wasn’t used to having things done for her. She was used to ripping what she needed from the world’s grip whether it was ready to give it to her or not, which might have been why she felt the need to make sure Anya was alright every night. Because she didn’t know how else to assure she was okay. Maybe Loid was the same, restless with a sense of urgency sprung inside him that had nowhere to go.

But Loid was good. He was real, a true father. He wasn’t like her.

When she turns away from Anya, she finds Loid is looking at her again. She has to suppress the fighter's instinct to tense up and force her muscles to relax. “What is it?”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Are you okay?”

“Uh?” Yor, confused, points to herself as if he could be addressing anyone else. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” he says, the barest trace of a smile on his lips that makes her cheeks heat in embarrassment. “You’ve seemed down.”

“Oh. Isn’t that a normal thing to feel after what happened?”

“No, of course. I…hm.” He clears his throat. “I guess, besides that, I thought something else was bothering you. I apologize if it’s presumptuous—”

“It’s not,” she interrupts softly. She ducks her chin down so she doesn’t have to look him in the eyes. “You’re right. I think all this kind of made something clear to me.”

“What’s that?”

“I… I don’t know how to do this, Loid.” The words come out sounding more desperate than she’d have liked. Her voice is embarrassingly shaky as she admits, “Being a mother. Keeping Anya safe. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She covers her face, mortification and tears building up with similar ferocity. It’s quiet for so long that she begins regretting saying such a thing, until Loid says, “I don’t know what I’m doing either.”

“What?” She sniffles. “But you do. You’re so…put-together. You always seem to know what to do. When we found out what had happened, I had no idea what to do, but you…”

“I wasn’t doing anything,” he says. There’s a bitter undertone to his words as his hands tighten around his elbows. “I was sitting around while Anya… while Anya was…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I keep thinking, Yor. If I hadn’t insisted she go to Eden, dragged her into all this, she wouldn’t have had to go through all that. What am I doing?”

Yor hovers, unsure of her place. Was this her place? Did she comfort him? What did a normal wife do in this situation? Should she act like a normal wife or keep a distance?

Loid takes in a shuddering breath, dashing all her thoughts away. To hell with it, Yor. None of that matters. She leans forward and captures his hand in her own, making him look up at her. His eyes are rimmed with red. Hers are probably no better.

“You were not just sitting around,” she murmurs. “You got us through that nightmare—all of us. And you can’t blame yourself for a butterfly effect like that. You only wanted the best for Anya, right? The only ones to blame for the situation are the terrorists.”

He considers her words before pulling their hands down to rest between them. He rubs a thumb over her knuckles. “Then it’s the same for you. You keep Anya safe, but it isn’t your fault she was in danger. It’s not your fault.” He looks up and Yor can’t stop the tears from finally slipping down her cheeks. He doesn’t know the truth, she tries reminding herself, but it’s futile—his words, inexplicably, comfort her as they always have.

He somehow makes it feel like he completely understands her, different as they may be. Perhaps she doesn’t deserve it, but Loid said it himself: She needs you here. I need you here. Her family. She wasn’t going to step out on them now. “It’s not our fault,” she says, relishing in the relief those words bring to her chest.

“It’s not our fault,” he repeats, voice dropping. He lifts his hands and wipes the tears on her face with the pad of his thumb. They’re close and the nerves make a rapid return as Loid’s eyes dart between her own, hands large and warm and still cupped around her face. He slowly approaches and her breath hitches, eyes squeezing shut, when she feels a gentle pressure on her forehead instead. His hair tickles her as he leans his forehead against hers.

“I’m glad you’re my partner in all this,” he admits. “Thank you, Yor.”

He’s thanking me? She thinks, lost for words. When she thought of all the things he had done for her, it seemed almost impossible to match up. But…

She glanced out of the corner of her eye where Anya lay, fast asleep. With the way she slept, they needn’t have been so quiet during their conversation. She was safe and soundly sleeping with a smile on her face and her plushies in her arms. As for Loid? I’m glad you’re my partner in all this.

She had to be doing something right.

“Me too,” she replies, a wide smile brimming. “Thank you, Loid.”

[mercillery]

Would you be opposed to writing for Damnatio? If not, could I possibly request a relationship review for him? Please and thank you 🙏

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

NOTES: ANON IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I HOPE ITS TO YOUR LIKING 💪😔💔

╰┈➤ ❝ Every decision I make, I consider how it will impact you and our future together. ❞

He’s definitely the type of guy who values privacy when it comes to relationships. Make no mistake, he absolutely loves you, but he’s not the kind to broadcast your relationship to the entire Clover Kingdom. He won't be shouting it from the rooftops or going door-to-door to announce that you two are officially together. That's not his style.

However, if someone were to ask him directly whether you two are a couple, he wouldn’t hesitate for a second—he’d confidently and proudly say yes. So before you start overthinking, rest assured that his desire for privacy isn’t a reflection of how he feels about you. It’s not that he’s ashamed or wants to keep you a secret. He’s just a man who prefers to keep certain aspects of his life, especially the most personal ones, away from the public eye.

While he maintains his guard with almost everyone, with you, he allows himself to be more vulnerable and expressive. For instance, if you ask him if there’s anything stressing him out, he’ll absolutely answer you with the upmost honesty. However, if anyone else were asking him something like that, he wouldn’t be open about discussing such personal matters. As his lover, you get to witness his internal world, his struggles, and his joys in a way that others simply don’t. You’re one of the very few people he feels comfortable enough to share that kind of information with, if not the only one.

This means that in a relationship with him, you get the rare privilege of seeing his true feelings and emotions—something he doesn't really share with anyone. This is one of the significant benefits of your relationship with him—it’s like having access to a private side of him. So even though he may not seem dramatically different to an outside observer, within the confines of your relationship, there's a depth and openness that are exclusive to only you.

And yes, he helps you just as much as you help him. As someone who deeply values justice, Damnatio is highly supportive of your goals and ambitions, provided they align with his sense of justice. He offers you the necessary support, whether it’s through advice, resources, or other forms of assistance. However, this support can sometimes be a double-edged sword for you—because when helping you, Damnatio focuses more on logic than emotion. He approaches conflicts with a rational mindset, preferring to analyze problems, and find practical solutions. Emotional outbursts are not his style; he appreciates discussions more.

If you tend to solve problems more emotionally, you might find his approach detached or even frustrating at times, especially when you're looking for emotional support and empathy. But if you’re someone who prefers logic and reason when tackling issues, Damnatio’s approach will be incredibly beneficial. With that being said, Damnatio is a rock in the relationship. He is someone you can rely on, and he takes his commitments seriously. When he promises something, he will deliver. Even if his way of helping isn’t exactly what you prefer, you still appreciate it.

You best believe that Damnatio isn’t going to let anyone get away with treating you wrong. People who know that you’re dating Damnatio make sure to tread carefully and treat you with respect, understanding the consequences of crossing that line. But for those who unfortunately happen to wrong you, they will be swiftly and firmly confronted by Damnatio. But if someone were to do something serious against you, such as physically assaulting you, Damnatio wouldn’t just confront them; he would devote his entire being to ensuring they face severe consequences for their actions. His sense of justice is unwavering, and he will use every resource at his disposal to make sure that person is held accountable.

He sees protecting you and upholding justice as his duty, and he would be relentless in pursuing the appropriate punishment for anyone who harms you. Even if the offense is something smaller, like someone spreading rumors about you or insulting you, Damnatio will still take action. He will confront those responsible and defend your honor. He understands that every act of disrespect or harm, no matter how minor, needs to be addressed to prevent it from escalating and to maintain your dignity and respect. In short, he won't tolerate any form of mistreatment toward you, and he will always stand up for you.

As everyone knows, Damnatio is extremely dogmatic—he’s literally shown no mercy even to his own father, whom he sentenced without hesitation. Please, as stoic and stern as Damnatio can be, do not, under any circumstances, break the law. If you do, you won’t just be breaking the law; you’ll be breaking his heart as well. But even then, he will condemn you without a second thought if you step out of line. So don’t even think about it. He loves you deeply, but there’s no way he’s going to abandon his unwavering devotion to justice just because his own lover did something wrong. He won’t turn a blind eye—not for you, or anyone else, for that matter.

His commitment to upholding the law is absolute, and he sees it as his duty to ensure that justice is served, regardless of personal relationships. If you were to break the law, he would see it as a betrayal not just of the legal system but of the principles he holds dear and the trust he has placed in you. His stern and stoic nature means that he approaches every situation with an unwavering commitment to doing what is right, even if it causes him personal pain. So with that being said, don’t be foolish and go against him by breaking the law. He values justice above all else, and maintaining your integrity is crucial to preserving your relationship with him. 

He’s definitely not affectionate—not in public or private either. Quality time is not his forte; he’s a busy man with busy thoughts and an even busier schedule. Don’t expect gift-giving either. Damnatio’s way of showing his love is through words of affirmation and acts of service. Whatever goals or plans you have, whether they take years to achieve or just a moment, as long as they don’t go against his beliefs, he will absolutely support you. If he sees you on the verge of giving up or lacking motivation, he’ll be there to push you back up with helpful and wise advice. When it comes to acts of service, it’s usually the little things. Depending on how observant you are, you may or may not notice them. 

For example, he’s the type of man to make your coffee or whatever drink you prefer in the morning—perfectly, just the way you like it. If you’re a plant person, he will water your plants for you. He’ll fold your laundry, make the bed, and ensure everything is in order. If you’re forgetful, he’ll leave little post-it notes around to remind you of your tasks for the day, sometimes adding words of wisdom or encouragement. And yes, he will absolutely cook with you. Even if you don’t know how to cook, he’ll teach you. I have a feeling he’s a good cook too. He finds ways to weave his affection into these acts, making sure you feel supported and cared for, even if he isn’t overtly affectionate in the traditional sense. And despite his busy schedule and stoic demeanor, he finds ways to show you that he’s always thinking of you and supporting you in every aspect of your life.

[khae-writes]

what a treat [ gorou/reader ]

tags: fluff, slight implications of inappropriate text but nothing too bad, one-shot, stress relief, 1.7k words, posted on my ao3, gorou/female reader

header

           Being in the Resistance Camp had its ups and downs; advantages and disadvantages. But maybe majority of the reason here that you’re staying was because of your General. You’ve always had a soft spot for fluffy creatures. They were small, loyal, cute, and the desire to keep them safe and protect them overflowed your nerves.

So when you’d arrived in the electricity-coated island to be of some help to the Resistance, you weren’t exactly expecting a dog…? A fox…? Whatever hybrid of a creature Gorou was, he was certainly not the image of General you’d hoped to see standing on the battlefield holding the front line with such a serious face.

He was short, his stomach was completely bare (and you really tried not to stare at it too much); his eyes were the sweetest baby blue you’ve ever seen while his tiny fangs could be seen protruding sometimes when he snarls at the mention of the enemy. His personality was what you could expect from a General although softer and friendlier. His most outstanding features maybe were his noticeable animal ears and tail that were bushy and soft, you could only wonder how they would feel under your touch. Were his animal attributes sensitive? You hid your inner longing to stroke his ears.

But overall, did you like your substitutional leader? Absolutely. Casting aside his cute appearance, Gorou was certainly fully capable of handling a whole battalion without Kokomi nearby. You’d seen this firsthand with his impeccable ability to keep his troops able to withstand a fight against Kujou Sara while also preventing majority of them from getting hurt.

He was more of a ‘try hard, die hard’ type of person and spoke his mind. Honest, and incredibly admirable for being so, but also dangerous.

“I’ll be dispatching you to scout the camp that’s been getting a little too close for comfort to us for a while now. You don’t have to interfere and cause a fight, just make sure to sneak in and count how many soldiers and weaponry they have on us. Can you do it?”

Kokomi was absent for the rest of the week, tending to business more appropriate for her. Gorou’s palms lay flat on the metallic table, sharp blue eyes looking at you with hope.

Your brows furrowed, “General Gorou, with all due respect, you’re asking me, a doctor, to handle something so dangerous. Isn’t that a bit…”

Silence.

Before he broke it himself, his ears flattening downwards as his hands covered his face in embarrassment. “Crap, I’m sorry, (Y/n).”

You shake your head, “You must be really tired these days. You should take a break once in a while, General Gorou.” You suggested, taking a step closer to the tea table to pour him a cup of his favorite.

The young man scrunched his nose in distaste at the idea, lips curling downward in displeasure. “No one takes breaks in a war, (Y/n). If I take a moment of rest now, what would happen to my men? All of you would be injured by the time I come to.” He closes his eyes as images of the camp getting sabotaged and ruined flash in a split second. “I can’t allow that to happen.”

“We’re not yet in war, General.” You began treading the tightrope, gently starting the conversation. “I believe you’re underestimating the Resistance as well and what they’re capable of.”

Gorou huffs, his ears flattening to the back of his head. “You misunderstand our situation, Doctor. Although we’re not yet physically throat-to-throat with Kujou Sara and her clan just yet, it’s not an excuse to take matters lightly.”

“… Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry.” You frowned. “But one night of rest won’t do you any harm. The leader has to get a wink of sleep to come out stronger when the actual thing arrives, right?”

“I’m strong, (Y/n). And before all else, I must perform a good example in front of all those within the camp—” He stands up abruptly, fist slowly raising itself to the air.

“And they’re hoping you take a break,” you sighed, grabbing him by his shoulders and sitting him back down on the chair, “sleep is just as important for you, General. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for your people then? If you’re setting a good example, make sure they idolize your sleep schedule too.”

The brunette purses his lips, eyes averting elsewhere to dodge yours. “Yeah… I got it.” You eyed him suspiciously longer than a second, lingering on his slumped form. He caught on to your staring and flinched, rubbing at the back of his nape. “I know, I’ll go rest, don’t worry…” He sighs.

Your frown only deepened at the his effortless reassurance. You weren’t well-versed in psychological conditions but you might as well be an esper(*); Gorou was usually very hard to read so you thought it was an achievement to finally be able to crack his thoughts open like an eggshell at the moment.

You put down the stack of papers you held in your hands, setting it down on the flat surface of the wooden table he had decorated nearby his little futon. His baby blue eyes darted towards the stash, curiosity glinting in them. When they flit towards you, he was taken aback at you slipping off your doctor’s coat and watched as you hang it by the small stool.

He raises a brow, nervous and stiff yet could not bite down the excitement pulsating through his nerves. “W-What are you doing?” His eyes raked your body, mentally punching himself for eyeing you down without your permission.

It wasn’t like you were naked or anything! Left only in a fit sleeveless turtleneck in black; shoulders exposed which may or may not have kept Gorou staring a little too long with a furious blush scattered on his fair skin. A long skirt that cascaded below your shin (to his gratefulness) that covered your legs — it was not a secret at all to the Resistance Camp that you were most definitely an eye-candy.

Not even General Gorou could look away.

You snorted at his reaction, “Sit still, General. I’m not gonna do anything to you.” You make your way behind him, cold hands gripping his shoulders that were capped with armory. “Well, nothing you won’t appreciate me doing anyway.”

Gorou gulped, thoughts going straight down the drain when he felt your voice tingle down his earlobes, his face flustering a cherry red. He was part an animal, his senses were naturally heightened and you being so damn close to him was sending him into a high.

“Just relax.” You murmured, your hold firm.

His grip on his trousers was tight to the point his knuckles could be felt were white now. Bullets of sweat trickle down the side of his neck, breathing uneven as he tried to remain calm in your presence.

“(Y/n), I don’t think we should—” Gorou couldn’t even say another word when he felt gentle hands lightly gripping and massaging his arms and skin with feather-like touches; the pads of your fingers prodding and pressing down on certain spots to relieve him of any sore muscles. In an instant, he turns putty in your hands. His ears flattened in relaxation; his tail wagging just a tiny bit as he sighs dreamily at the sensation offered to him.

You giggled at his softened expression, not able to contain your laughter while applying pressure to the spot between the side of his neck and his shoulder, massaging it gently so it doesn’t hurt.

A smirk curls up on your lips as you did so, not wanting to miss the opportunity to embarrass him. “Was something else going on in your head? Something… perverse?” You teased and his ears hastily colored red in fluster. “For your information, I aid in medicine, not certain body services.”

“… you’re very attractive, Doctor. You should be aware what effect you have on people. It’s… I-It’s not my fault for reacting the way I did…” He clears his throat, bringing up plain excuses. It made your heart flutter nevertheless for your general to think you as pretty.

“I may not be able to help you with your imagination—”

“Stop teasing!”

“Hehe, I’m kidding!” You grinned before your fingers go down the sides of his arms, giving them the same treatment you gave his shoulders and neck. “… I’ll at least be able to help relieve you of any more tense muscles and neck pain. I unfortunately can’t help you out on the battlefield, so…” Your fingers stop, your brows furrowing as your smile evidently grows saddened. “This is as much as I can do.”

Gorou picks up on your insecurity and helplessness in a split second, scoffing as soon as he heard your tone. His gloved hands move to put on top of yours, offering the tiniest bit of comfort.

“Don’t be like that. You’re doing great already as a doctor. We feel safer having you with us. We can only live through various dangers and come this far because of you.” He tells you softly but firmly, eyes glazing up with determination and confidence. “I don’t want you feeling like your worth weighs like nothing. A member of the Resistance Camp will always be a part of the camp itself, it doesn’t matter who you are or what role you play in.”

You gaze at him in awe. And in a few seconds of silence, your face tints pink in shyness, a crooked smile unable to be restrained from curving upwards your lips. Your fingers started massaging his hands this time, carefully bringing his hand up to your lips to plant a soft kiss which uttered a small embarrassed yelp from the male.

“You’re too kind, General. You overestimate my worth,” you chuckle at his face that glowed bright red, “but I’ll be sure not to let you all down.”

“Just call me Gorou, it’s not that hard…” He murmurs, blushing. “I call you by your name, why can’t you?”

Your cheeks flush the color of sweet apple, giggling. “That’s… wouldn’t that be impolite,”

Gorou turned to you, disappointed. “There’s no pressure, but like…”

“Gorou?”

The brunette stiffens, staring as his ears flattened to the top of his head, red in the face. “That’s more like it.”

[armoricaroyalty]

She gave him her number, and he put her in his phone as ‘lawyer girl,’ which made her laugh. He worked most nights, so they changed ‘drinks’ to ‘brunch,’ and he dragged her ass halfway across the city to a hole-in-the-wall place where she ordered the best Bloody Mary she’d ever had in her life. Over eggs benedict and home fries, he told her that he wasn’t looking for anything serious. "That's fine," she said, "my aunt'd kill me if I brought home a line cook, anyway." That made him wheeze-laugh, and Theo decided that she'd keep him around for a while.

Previous | Chapter Start | From the Beginning | Next

Transcript under the cut.

12:38 PM | April 7th, 2016

WENDY | Have you given any thought as to your future at the firm? THEO | Uh... WENDY | You can be honest with me, Theodosia. THEO | [sighs] Not really...I’ve been working so many hours, I haven’t been able to set any professional goals. I’m just treading water. WENDY | You’re currently partner track. Is that what you want? THEO | ... WENDY | [offscreen] I’ve told you before: law is not a profession for dilettantes. If you don’t want to make partner, why are you working 70 hour weeks? THEO | Have I given you any reason to doubt my commitment? WENDY | Not exactly, but... THEO | But what? I bill as many hours as the rest of the second-year associates. WENDY | You’re not hungry. THEO | [offscreen] What? WENDY | Forgive me for saying so, but...it’s obvious your heart’s not in it. THEO | Are you saying I don’t have what it takes? WENDY | I’m saying you might be happier practicing in another field. Big law isn’t for everyone and there’s no shame in that. THEO | Okay, first of all — SERVER | How are you finding everything today, ladies? THEO | Just fine, thank you. WENDY | Actually... [chopping] ROB | What? SERVER | Table 12 says her lobster was cold in the middle. ROB | Table 12? [snorts] No shit, it went out 30 minutes ago. Food gets cold. SERVER | She wants to speak with you. ROB | What? SERVER | She told me to, and I quote, “go get the incompetent on the line” so she could “register her complaints directly.” ROB | Ha. You’re fucking kidding, right? SERVER | Nope. ROB | We’re in the middle of service. SERVER | Yup! She insists. WENDY | What’s your name, young man? ROB | Uh. Rob, ma’am. WENDY | Now Rob...How long have you been working at L’ostrica? ROB | Fourteen months. WENDY | In that time, has it ever been acceptable to send food out cold? ROB | Uh....no? WENDY | So you and I agree that cold food is unacceptable? ROB | I’m very sorry ma’am, I can take that away — WENDY | Excuse me, I’m not finished speaking! THEO | [mouthing] Sorry. ROB | [stifling laughter] WENDY | Is something funny? ROB | No ma’am. WENDY | I have to say, I am not impressed by the service today. [door slams] ROB | Fuck off, I’m taking my five. THEO | [offscreen] Y’know, Wendy might’ve been right about the service... ROB | Oh. You’re the psycho lobster woman’s...assistant? Daughter? THEO | Her mentee, actually. THEO | I’m a second-year associate at Maguire, Maguire, & Rudolph. Wendy’s my boss, but she also gives me career advice and stuff. THEO | Theo. ROB | Uh, Rob. THEO | I wanted to apologize for earlier. Wendy can be...kind of a bitch, honestly. ROB | Ha. She’s not the worst customer I’ve ever had. THEO | I believe it. My aunt owns a restaurant in the North End, and — ROB | In the North End? What’s it called? THEO | Gloria’s. It’s on Armory Street, near the — ROB | The statue of the dancer? THEO | Yes! You know it? ROB | Yeah, I grew up near there. My parents are enrolled at St. Cezara’s. THEO | Holy shit, small world. That’s like, two blocks from my dad’s. ROB | Small world...hey, what’s your number? Wanna grab a drink sometime? THEO | My schedule’s kind of crazy right now, but....I’d like that.

[solisworldtractor]

With Solis, You Got The Opportunity To Choose From the Range Of Farm Champions.

The machinery that fuels this essential industry has undergone a remarkable transformation in the vast expanse of Germany’s verdant countryside, where agriculture is a cornerstone of the nation’s economy. Among the various players in the tractor market, one name has risen steadily to prominence – Solis Tractors. With an unwavering commitment to innovation, quality, and customer satisfaction, Solis has captured the hearts of German farmers and is steadily etching its mark on the agricultural landscape. 

Hop inside the cab and observe the number of hours of operation the tractor has performed. On the other hand, diesel engines can go for much longer. In general, diesel engines are considered to still be good at 6,000 to 10,000 hours of hard work. If they are well-maintained some tractor models can exceed even 12,000 hours and still operate like new. It solely depends on the tractor model and maintenance. Do your complete homework and do not be afraid of a bit larger number of operating hours, sometimes the tractor may still be in excellent shape if the previous owner or owners have maintained it really well.

With Solis, you have got the opportunity to choose from an extensive range of farm champions. We have a wide range of distinct tractors for you to boost yield with every one of them on your farm, lawn or garden. With our garden tractors, compact tractors, Mini Tractor and narrow tractors, you can take your endeavours to a new level at your comfort. Solis has a strong foothold in over 150+ countries that effortlessly serves the interests of farmers. With more than 1,500,000 happy and satisfied customers globally, Solis is currently the world’s top 5th tractor manufacturer, offering a wide range of 16-125 HP tractors while setting new benchmarks in the tractor industry through powerful competence and advanced technologies. On top of that, our work boasts for itself, whether it’s about growth or success. With a workforce of 6000+ dedicated employees and 500+ engineers in R&D, we have come a long way.

At times, it may be very easy to figure out when your farm champion needs a new spare part; sometimes the machine can even tell you if it’s time to replace something. Signals may include a sudden drop in performance or a strange malfunction that can’t be explained otherwise. Inspecting your Agri expert on a daily basis can help you to keep tabs on any parts of your tractor that are starting to show their ageing. If you come across a situation and find a damaged part, always replace them before they become a serious problem to you as well as for others!

Solis compact tractors are possessed with versatile features that make them an Agri professional. With unmatched versatility, we aim to make a healthier and greener ecosystem. Our farm tractors are integrated with marvellous features that offer versatility in every manoeuvre and venture. With hydraulic trailer brakes and dual lines pneumatic trailer brakes, you can ensure safe tread on your farm and construction site. Additionally, with a front PTO, quick attach TPL and mechanical self-levelling loader, you can take your manoeuvres to the next level. Versatile and precise, the quick attach loader brings innovative design and user-friendly functions like automatic self-levelling for the highest levels of efficiency. The level indicator is simple & easy to use and easy to store with a stand. Moreover, the quick-change attachments & lever system help in precise loading and unloading seamlessly.

Although Industrial Tractors (previously called Tuggers) are a type of tractor for the construction industry, this tractor type can also be utilised in agriculture to haul heavy loads or carry heavy weights around, when attached to a crane. What makes farming tractors distinct from industrial tractors is that they feature a drawbar instead of a three-point linkage. They are also available in numerous models with different horsepower strengths to suit your specific needs. Garden Tractors have a wide horsepower variety ranging from 1 HP to 20HP, they can still fit in super small construction sizes as well. These tractors are often utilised to cut grass or plant new flower beds in your garden beds thus helping you groom your lawn too. Rotary Tillers also known as Walking-Type Tractors are primarily utilised in small-sized farms or farms located at different height levels. Rotary Tiller Tractors are known to feature blades that can handle even hard or chunky soil and turn it into a fine, clod-free bed ready for planting.

We at Solis are there for you to provide solutions to prepare your next yield. Solis is not just the name of a tractor and farm implement manufacturing company; it is a name that defines productivity and success. We at Solis Tractors are the pioneers of innovation in the tractor industry that has revolutionised the way of farming. In the span of merely 25 years, we have set new benchmarks of power and covered milestones that have made us the number one farm machinery exporter firm from India and the leading tractor brand across Europe.  At Solis, we are extremely delighted to offer you our robust and power-packed tractors that come equipped with a heavy-duty engine to provide high power in fields with breathtaking results. Our Agri experts, are known to conquer every terrain or construction site that you can think of under minimal to low maintenance.

With more than 1,500,000 happy and satisfied customers globally, currently, Solis is currently the world’s top 5th tractor manufacturer, offering a wide range of 16-125 HP range of tractors while setting new benchmarks in the tractor industry through powerful competence and advanced technologies. Today the world is in chaos with lots of questions for better yield, thankfully we have the answers. To know more about different kinds of tractors and other efficient farm implementation tools visit Solisworld. We would be more than happy to serve you with nothing but the best.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

11.30.23 Thursday

12:17 am

I feel bitter... I still have windblow...

Sana ganun ka nga pa rin? Hmmm The usual "sana ganun ka pa rin"...

Sana ganun ka nga pa rin? I HOPE YOU ARE JUST THE SAME...

Sana ganun ka pa rin? I HOPE YOU ARE STILL THE SAME...

It is raining in Manila at di na ako babalik???...

HEY!!!

It is raining in Manila. UMUULAN NGAYON SA MAYNILA.

It's been raining in Manila. UMUULAN PA DIN SA MAYNILA.

12:38 am

I feel bitter " the damage has been done"... It is over Mitch but I want a trap if she did something... I still have windblow... and some fucking old friends???

I feel bitter, I have sagging facial feature now and I don't have a job and money!

2:23 am

I feel bitter... I feel so bitter, I hate being smash down to nothing since 2007...

I still have windblow... I wanna have HIM ( Borgy)...

10:23 am

Just visited my wesing and I keep on practicing to sing a new pieces of songs...Congratz to me angels, I can now somehow rap... Well, well it is just a challenge...

I need to do my abs no matter what though I'm still chubby coz of this fucking life that I'm having now... This is my "me time"... I hate gaining much Borgy... It is my dream to really flatten my tummy coz it is frustration... But I did flatten in a way but sometimes I stop coz of my other priorities in life like getting a job and thinking of money...

Yeah! I'll ask Borgy for my tread mill... Should I put it on OUR ACT 5, soon or in a lil while angels...

Mitch, I ordered a trap on you! Don't you ever replace me!!!

11:34 pm

I have windblow....Preparing for lunch....

Whew! I need to recover and will do a "jack knife" later....It is a big challenge...

Are we out of time Borgy? But we will have a LIFETIME journey plus I seriously need your "DIARY"... Is there any mature angels? Who can extend this diary on Borgy but with maturity.

11:48 am

Borgy pabaltak ng DJ she is putting me down... Massacre... 95.5... Finger Linkin Good Borgy and a massacre... Fucky You Eagle tinira mo na naman ako, is that Peachy? Peachy as well...

11:59 am

Hey! Peachy of Eagle... Wag mo kong tinitira dito...

Eagle??? Naka-link ata sa Cavite... Borgy pabaltak ng DJ na un!

12:04 noon

Uncle Jun is still fake, still with the people. I still have windblow and hating Cavite for putting me down... Some coz they wanted Mitch!

12:25 noon

Uncle Jun told me that they will have a meeting that some people will be removed in their group, hoping it is Eusebio!

12:50 noon

I feel jealous coz they are on the scene and I'm always not on the scene...

Mitch, probably became a super scenic woman which is unfair in my part. Super scenic means just around, just somewhere and not even telling me that she is always on the art film off the screen...

2:16 pm

Lemonade is better than Peachy ( Eagle FM 95.5 )... But there is no buy 1 take 1 in LOVE! It depends... It depends on the Queen.

Since the Queen is not yet on the scene, she still needs to know everything!

The Queen is always 1,there was never in the history that there were 2 Queenz!

2:20 pm

I still wanna leave the hometown in a lil while, I really wanna transfer to ilocos ( in spite of some plastics rocks and pebbles )... I feel so bitter that some of my facial feature is really damn sagging and I can't take it... Plus, I don't have a job and money... I feel so fat and ugly and this is something serious... The sagging of my facial feature, I feel bullshit!

I know the parts of my face that I have to revive... I feel bullshit,this "deep smile lines" and my particularly my nose...

I still have windblow and I feel ugly and I wanna buy Starbucks and do hopping and find new friends...

I missed my timeline Borgy! Do we still have time???

Borgy, I also feel jealous on women and younger soul who gave birth coz they feel better and stronger than me... They took away my timeline.

I'm a college graduate hey! Who gave a verdict on me that I shouldn't give birth? Who are those fucking people!!! Who damaged my image for 16 years??? Who are those fucking people!!! They don't have the right to take away my timeline!!!

2:35 pm

In a way I felt bad that somehow my nose grew but it was always flatten... It has a tip but it was always pull down by some fake relatives or jealous people on me... Then,these days this nose is just a flatten nose without ego and pride.

I feel hurt...16 years,they just killed me...

For my Baby...Bear are you there???

4:29 pm

Hey! I just heard of the shorty thing, who is that DJ now... So,what if I'm shorty? Is there a problem?

Why if it's me it is an issue but there are so many tall man and shorty woman but still together!!! Shut up man!

Can we kill a DJ? Why, if it is me? A big deal???

I really wanna leave this fucking hometown!

5:48 pm

I'm shorty but proportion for the DJ's of Eagle now... 95.5 Eagle! I'm sexy I know...

I'm sexy right Borgy??? You have to say that I'm sexy though I'm shorty! Or else...

6:11 pm

Huh? What did the DJ said pitik??? I'm gonna say ngarat mo!

7:32 pm

Tell them Borgy, I'm sexy! I'm a prisoner of Love!

8:37 pm

Done,doing stretching coz I badly need it for my S-bones and whatever pain I have on my pelvic, priformis or whatever... I still can't do the MRI...

I hope my right leg was just an ordinary cramps or spasm..

I still have windblow not happy....I'm very frustrated... Done, eating as well... Hmm....I'm controlling not to eat much... hmmm... Still, thinking of money and job and future...

I need a progress... These things I want HIM to understand that I'm so frustrated in LIFE. I'm so frustrated and I feel ugly and fat and nothing...

I took my vow that here I only want Borgy coz I hate the unfair world in the Philippines or here in Cavite! I hate it for 16 years...

Why these things are happening to me??? I mean stagnant or just on the flat plane... I'm not a bad person in general of my total character... Thinking of having Borgy, I feel bitter I can't get out of Cavite. I can't make new friends... I lost a social life in a way,that I was thinking if I have no social life then how can I get progress that I don't have money now... But it depends on the social life, of course...

I was thinking, it is just weird... If I can't have HIM!

8:52 pm

Will feed Lalah and Neko coz I can't stand seeing our dogs starving or not eating at all that Uncle Jun always commenting that hey! PIE don't dwell your life on the dogs,they are just dogs..

Huh? Deep inside me...What? These dogs have life and I really can't take it, seeing them starving. Our dogs here are sweet and nice and respecting me. I know I still need a life aside from this...I'm frustrated but I still need to feed and take care of them...

9:47 pm

I still have windblow? Are they my friends or just fucking fake friends?

If Mitch became a super scenic woman without my knowledge and they became known in the society if Mitch was part of it or anyone linking with that particular group that their main focus was and still me? I don't know if it is good or bad agenda...

A friend will ask an approval if they are planning to do something good on their friends. Surprise? It is been 16 years,it is no longer surprise but a detractors on me...

Surprising someone there is a particular time or span of time, not a lifetime of controlling my life... Controlling my life for their own personal agenda???

[licensedqueerio]

HEYA, i was wondering if you could do general dating headcanons for fred benson?? Gender neutral reader please! <33333

Fred is a simple lover <3

• You meet in journalism class

• He wanted the class, you got put in it

• As such, you both have different attitudes about it and how you go about your work

• You like to skip class with the excuse of the journalism teacher sending you somewhere

• Fred hates this

• He confronts you in class about it one day

• It turns into a big thing and you both are viciously insulting each other

• Neither of you physically hurt the other, but there's really not a need to

• Words can hurt a lot more

• But it's just your luck that you end up paired together for a final project worth half your grade immediately after

• It's reeeeally rough in the beginning, you're convinced you're not gonna pass bc of him

• But then something changes one day

• He starts being civil

• You're suspicious but he doesn't have ulterior motives

• He just really wants/needs to pass

• But now that you're not actively being hostile, you realize he's actually not that bad

• You develop a lot of feelings for him very quickly

• Y'know the saying there's a fine line between love and hate

• Yeah you were treading that line, and fell onto the love side

• Fred's the EXACT same way

• But he's a lot better at hiding it

• He'd rather die than approach anyone first so he just never says anything abt his feelings

• He fears rejection

• Ofc he does, he's a lil nerd with glasses that take up half his face

• He's also insecure bc of his scar

• And he's petrified someone will find out at the car accident so he doesn't risk relationships

• That means you confess first and ask him out

• He says no

• Super rudely too bc it's Fred

• He's insensitive and ends up insulting you

• Which is actually crushing and you start to hedge back over towards hate

• A few days after avoiding him like the plague, he corners you in the hall

• And he blurts out, "were you being serious?"

• He thought you asked him out as a joke

• He's insecure PLEASE give him a hug

• He can't fathom that you would like him back

• That anyone would like him

• But especially you bc of some of the things he'd said in the past

• But once you assure him you were being serious he says yes

• You plan the whole date

• Only for him to drag you along with him to investigate a murder on the day of the date

• You're not mad though

• It was...an interesting first date

• One that you'd tell in the future and laugh fondly about

• He'd want to keep your relationship private

• At least for a little while

• He just likes his privacy lol, and he doesn't want Nancy to pry

• Or God forbid--ask you guys on a double date with her and Jonathan

• When Nancy does find out, she most certainly does make you guys go on a double date

• You spend the night laughing and chiding Fred on his remarks about Jonathan

• Like he's right there

• Fred doesn't understand subtlety and you have to keep kicking him under the table to shut up about Jonathan

• Afterwards, you tease him and joke that he's secretly in love with Jonathan bc of how much he talks about him

• He is so disgusted by the suggestion that he doesn't talk to you for an entire day

• You two don't really go out for dates

• He likes to stay in and watch a movie or something

• Sometimes you can convince him to go out with you

• Nowhere fancy tho, but it's nice to get out of the house

• Sometimes you just go for a walk though the woods

• Or you sit on the edge of lovers lake

• Your feet dipping into the water, saying nothing and enjoying the warm summer sun

• Fred's a quiet lover

• In the sense that he wants you guys to be private

• Not necessarily a secret, but he doesn't want to flaunt your relationship

• He doesn't think it's anyone's business

• Which is fine, you respect his boundaries

• He isn't super lovey dovey

• Nor is he big on PDA

• He still insults you and stuff, it's just more teasing than serious

• He's a goof

• Sometimes when you're walking through the halls, he won't hold your hand, but he'll link your pinkies together

• And that's enough for too, you don't have to always be touching to know he loves you

• He says I love you first

• Completely out of the blue on a normal Tuesday afternoon

• He just says it

• And there was never any doubt in your mind, but it makes you feel warm to hear him actually say it

• You ofc say it back

• And that's that

[peanut-in-the-goal]

characters belong to @lumosinlove

Logan and Finn had been together for years. Still, neither of them were happy. Not as happy as they used to be. Some nights it felt like old times, when everything was new and fresh, that honeymoon period of their relationship back at Harvard.

The soft smiles and quiet laughter. The way their hands brushed together when they walked. They went on car rides, one of their favorite pastimes from when they wore the crimson colors that they had grown to love. Finn remembers what it was like those days. He and Logan were young and immature, in for it for the fun, only serious about the game.

They had a good rhythm about it. Any drama or arguments they left off the ice. The ice was their home, it always had been since they were young, at different rinks, in different cities. It was familiar, smooth, something that was reliable to not change too much.

The lines on the ice were recognizable anywhere, marking their territory. There was something about the adrenaline that raced through them when they stood on the ice, that feeling of carrying the puck at your stick and gliding along the ice.

It was magical. Something that you couldn’t forget no matter how long it’s been.

But Harvard was a long time ago, years ago. Some days it felt like they were treading on thin ice around each other, doing everything they could so the other wouldn’t just leave.

The love was still there, but it was fraying between them, like a blanket that was being ripped apart at the seams. It ripped slowly but they were never complete without the other half. No matter how hard they wanted it, this relationship wouldn’t save itself, the two of them were willing to put in the work, but even that couldn’t save them. They were losing each other.

Everything was tense and stressful, Finn couldn’t take it. He loved Logan, he knew he always would, but he couldn’t do this anymore. They couldn’t play this game anymore, acting like everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t. He couldn’t bear to watch Logan slip away without trying to pull him back in.

But he had tried that already, hadn’t he? He wasn’t willing to go along with this anymore and work and work and work to fix things when Logan didn’t seem to care.

He wanted out. So he was going to call it off. He couldn’t put himself through this anymore, waking up and seeing Logan curled up on the other side of the bed when he used to be so close.

He was so tired of saying things were alright when they so clearly weren’t. So as much as it pained him to say it, it was over. It hurt to love someone who made no show of loving him back.

That plan didn’t last very long.

Finn had been trying to find the right time to tell Logan, the days seemed to just drag on. Soon days were becoming weeks. He was starting to second guess himself, so either do it now or do it never.

He chose the former.

Finn decided to just tell him, choke down his nerves and tell Logan that this wasn’t working out. He swallowed, clearing his throat to get Logan’s attention.

“Logan, um. I—” He stammered, before inwardly groaning at being cut off. That might’ve been a good thing.

The door swung open, coach walked in with this tall blonde following behind him. Finn inwardly made a mental note to befriend this dude. Sirius walked forward immediately, shaking his hand. The two exchanged words, but Finn wasn’t listening, too busy looking him over.

Coach’s hand was resting on his shoulder protectively as the kid got his first look at his teammates. His eyes brightened up when they landed on Finn and Logan. Finn noticed his hand go to his left wrist, tugging at his sleeve there a little, pulling it further down to cover his wrists. The outline of a bracelet was visible through the cuffed sleeves.

Finn tried to gather his words and think of a more private place to talk to Logan but had to shake the thoughts from his head when Dumo steered the blue-eyed kid towards them. When had Dumo taken the coach's spot in showing the new rookie around?

He throws on a smile, extending his hand before he can even reach them.

“Mon fils,” Dumo smiles, clapping the kid—who Finn has realized is really fucking tall— on the shoulder. “This is Leo,” he pronounces proudly.

Leo’s shy at first, he shares a timid little smile where his dimples make an appearance. Finn thinks that it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen.

He catches the fond look that’s already gleaming in Logan’s eyes. Maybe, just maybe, things were knitting back together slowly.

Maybe Leo would help them in more ways than one.

—

Leo was around more in the weeks that passed. The weeks quickly turned into months, and the three were practically inseparable on and off the ice.

The rest of the team saw it too. Finn and Logan were obviously happier than they’ve been in a long time. Logan laughed more, his guarded eyes that they were used to seeing all the time were finally coming down. Finn smiled again, he hadn’t done that in such a long time. Sure, he smiled for the camera and the team, but something was always off about it, forced even.

Now it wasn’t. Now his smile was the way it was when he first joined. Free. He wasn’t worried about anything or anyone, it was just him, Logan, and the team.

But now it wasn’t just them. Now there was Leo. With his baby blue eyes that could light up anyone’s day just looking at him. The boy seemed so innocent from the moment they met him. He had looked around the locker room in awe like he couldn’t believe that he had actually made it here.

That one of the dreams he worked so hard to achieve was actually successful in the end.

Dumo had practically adopted Leo as he had with Cap. Like he would have with Logan had he lived with the Dumais’ and not Finn. Although Pascal has practically adopted everyone on the team as one of his own didn’t he?

-

There was still tension between Finn and Logan, especially when they lived alone in the same apartment. They had Leo over as much as they could, but he could only be there so long before going back to Dumo’s.

The peace couldn’t hold forever, something was bound to happen and one of them was bound to snap.

Leo just wished he wasn’t there to hear it.

On his way to their small apartment, he heard the yelling. It was loud, it was mean. It was hurtful.

Leo knew that Logan and Finn didn’t have the best relationship when he joined the team. That was easy to pick up immediately. He just never thought that he would be the reason for their misery.

When he heard the yelling he didn’t expect his voice to come out of their mouths, his name was spoken like it was acid on their tongues. He wasn’t even there, he didn’t do anything, so why was he the one who was being blamed.

The yelling didn’t silence when he turned the key in the lock. If anything Logan and Finn didn’t even spare him a glance, like he wasn’t even there. They probably didn’t even notice he was there to be honest.

It was like the fraying thread finally snapped.

Logan was red in the face, yellingand hurling insults that he’d regret a few hours from now. But at the moment he was too driven by rage and insecurity to protect, protect, protect. Anything hurtful thrown at him, he’d have to throw back something worse.

Finn’s face was blotchy, tears of frustration rolling down his cheeks. His hands waved around in front of him, trying to convey the words he was too choked up to say.

The room was full of nothing but harsh breathing for a moment, neither having anything to say to the other. Their eyes bored into each other across the room.

Leo let the door slam shut behind him.

Logan and Finn both startled, turning to stare at him standing in the entryway.

The fight seemed to drain out of both of them at once. Logan’s shoulders drooped and he turned to look away from both of them. Finn stubbornly rubbed the tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands.

“What the fuck?”

There was a beat of silence, no one said anything and Leo didn’t think he was going to receive a response. He was going to follow up on his question, asking what happened, why his name was getting thrown around and-

“I’m sorry…” Logan sounded small, like he was the one crying and not Finn.

Any questions Leo had were stored away for later.

“It was bound to happen.”

Suddenly Leo felt like he was intruding. They invited him over but he wasn't sure if he should be there, not when they were having a moment. Not when it looked like they may be finally healing.

“It’s not going to work out,” Finn continued. “This,” he gestures between the three of them, “isn’t going to work if me and you didnt work, Lo.”

Maybe not, Leo thought.

“I know.”

It was true, Leo knew. The two of them had had a rocky relationship since he joined the team.

But Leo thought he could make a difference, he thought he was enough to try and save their relationship.

He also loved them, he wanted this, he wanted to fight for them. He wanted them to stay.

But he also can’t be the only one who wants this to work, they all need to put in work for this relationship. He can’t be the only one pulling his weight.

Sometimes it’s better to save your breath. That’s what his father told him when he was younger and had just lost a friend dude to a silly argument. Some people are better to let go, they’ll hold you back and won’t make you happy. Always choose to be happy Leo, make the decision of fighting and giving up. Because giving up does not make you weak, some of the strongest people I know are the strongest because they gave up.

Leo really hoped he was right.

“I guess I should be going then.”

Finn and Logan nodded sadly, and Leo felt something in him break a little more. He turned and walked back out the door he came from.

Leo remembers crying on the way home. He hadn’t driven to their house, so the walk home felt like it took forever and no time at all.

[beevean]

Opinion: How could Sonamy progress in IDW?

[note: the original article was written in Spanish by @latin-dr-robotnik​]

Today we’re going to discuss a recurring topic on my blog, with a more complete perspective.

Today’s article was inspired by an ask I got a few days ago about my possible perspective on the future of IDW Sonamy. I thought it would be interesting to revisit and expand this topic, because it’s still something of great interest for thousands of fans all around the world, and because SEGA has recently adopted a very peculiar position on the couple and their dynamic. As I detailed on my article SEGA and its most recent Sonamy side – more canon than ever, the dynamic has been going through a shift that can be distinguished into two main parts: 1) the commercial potential of Sonamy as a merchandising and marketing icon; 2) the stability of the interactions in the comics, in the short monthly stories on Sonic Channel, and so on.

That being said, there’s no need to mention that we’re going to focus entirely and nothing more than on this ship. I usually suggest other articles for those who prefer to read on other subjects, but today I will recommend our Discord server [translator’s note: the server is mainly Spanish-speaking], where discussions about ships are limited on their own canal that is separated from other themes: general discussions, music, fangames and mods, fanfics, fanart and even gaming in general. As you know, if you want to bring something else to our community, or just avoid talking about Sonamy, you’re more than welcome to join. Now, back on track.

What’s going on with Sonamy in IDW?

To recap what’s happened in these last months: Sonic and his friends finally got through the nightmare that was the Metal Virus, he and Amy hugged a few times, and since very recently they’ve been involved in a short arc about Chao races in Twinkle Park Zone, with a sinister background. In these last months after the eradication of the virus, there have been much closer and warmer interactions between our two hedgehogs, and I suspect that part of this is what inspired that question in the first place: what’s going on?

As I commented in the article where I proposed that Sonamy is “more canon than ever” (I know that it’s an exaggeration, that was the point), SEGA is treading carefully and the main canon seems to be willing to negotiate a more open representation of the relationship between the two in their different continuities, from best friends to something more. What I did not expect to happen was reading an answer from Evan Stanley (artist and writer that replaces Ian Flynn) about their dynamic, summing it up with “they like each other”.

The redrawing of Sonic’s expression when Amy hugs him in a recent drawing of hers made people wonder if this was yet another example of SEGA’s “censoring” (comparison below), to which Evan answered that it was modified to keep Sonic in character: he’s a guy that does not show much emotional vulnerability or too many negative emotions, and this is why sometimes the artists have to adjust WIPs to keep in line with this official point of view. Evan assured that this is not any kind of confirmation that Sonic does not like Amy, and doubles down by highlighting that in the official material, in the wikis and on Sonic Channel they show that, and I quote: “They like each other, but Sonic just isn’t the kind of guy who is going to make goo-goo eyes at Amy or perform grand acts of romance. If you wanna see that, that’s what fan works are for.”

And Evan’s words are a great way to sum up what’s going on with IDW Sonic right now. When it comes to interactions, they’re working with two characters who deep down “like each other”, but both show it in their own way. Amy is much more proactive when it comes to express her feelings, while Sonic only sometimes shows a glimpse of his feelings, with a smile or a small gesture. But at the end of the day they’re still friends and, depending on the situation, the comic can focus more or less on these details.

Comparison between the first sketch showed by Evan and the final product. The modification of the expression was minimal: Sonic’s slight blush was changed into a smile, maybe being a little overwhelmed by the gesture of affection.

The “progression” of the dynamic in the future

A good part of the answer to this question is based on my idea that right now, when it comes to Sonamy, we reached some kind of comfortable plateau. What am I referring to? To the fact that there have been a lot of varied interactions in these last 3 years of the comic, and they’re everything I could have asked for and then some. When we talk about Sonamy in canon, as Evan said, we don’t tend to hope for great romantic gestures from Sonic, we barely even ask for a look that hints that they understand each other beyond what it seems at first glance, so the fact that the IDW continuity is betting so much on this ship is basically a dream come true. For this reason, I don’t think things will change much in the future.

If I have to make a prediction on Sonamy’s future in IDW, I believe that there are still a lot of possibilities that our known writers (and maybe new writers!) could explore more, to see what makes this dynamic work so well. Actually, about 10 years ago, Ian Flynn wrote that if they could take advantage of the abilities and similarities between the two characters as adventurous spirits and with a strong moral sense, they would be “like poetry in motion”. This largely happens in IDW Sonic if you look carefully, but there are always new stories to tell and opportunities for them to work together and explore a bit more their strong bond, stronger than other friendships that they share. When the next major arc comes (which seems to be getting closer), they could explore aspects of their dynamic that are slightly more experimental, like being separated for extended periods of time and under dangerous situations… as long as they don’t turn it into a painful experience like the Metal Virus arc.

What Ian Flynn wrote about Sonamy, what works and what doesn’t. This was written in 2011, when Archie Sonic was still the major comic continuity, and when, according to Ian, Sonic was still “tied” to Sally Acord, leaving little room to the writers’ opinions.

The reality is that I see a stable future for the dynamic in the IDW universe. Sonamy is not fit for a lot of drama (fights, breaking up, etc.) without feeling forced or completely out of place, and only fanfics and fanart could be capable of capitalizing on this kind of content. On the other hand, for reasons I detailed in past articles, SEGA would not dare to alter the established order of the dynamic, let alone new that they managed to recover and maintain control over the ways Sonamy is being portrayed everywhere. SEGA won’t pull a Dragon Prince, which ended up confirming the main ship and then they made them go through a crisis and break up in a heartwrenching way in the graphic novel that acts as a bridge between season 3 and 4.

In short

The future of IDW Sonamy is looking bright and stable. I don’t think there will be serious changes to what we’re experiencing right now, and this is why both Evan Stanley and Ian Flynn agree that the dynamic is practically in the perfect place, keeping in line to how SEGA wants them to be represented together. This means we won’t see more affectionate gestures than what we’re seeing now (I doubt we’ll ever see again Sonic offering Amy a rose like in Sonic X), but it also means that we have now a solid basis for our expectations. In the now old IDW Sonic #2, Sonic and Amy had the chance of seriously talking a bit about what they thought of each other, with Sonic being determined to keep living life his own way (although he wouldn’t mind Amy to accompany him… or even suggesting himself that she could come), and Amy being determined to respect his way of life, because that’s what she loves about him, and she doesn’t want him to change. Since then, all we have seen and we’ll keep seeing in the comic is a consequence of this key moment; the two philosophies that they have and they share, in a constant back-and-forth with some tense moments and some cute moments.

An interesting detail that wasn’t included in the ask and that makes me think is the possibility that all of this will feature in the games as well. This is a completely different matter for another day, but I like to think that there is the possibility that we’ll see SEGA being more interested in inserting more Sonamy in the games, even if in an indirect way like in Sonic Unleashed and its emotional support, especially if the rumors that we’re about to get a soft-reboot are true. Romance is not something Sonic games are famous for doing well… at all, but that doesn’t mean it would be a bad idea to add a little sprinkle of IDW Sonamy in the mix.

And finally, I think I’ve talked enough about this topic, As you know, we’re waiting for some news, and I hope we’ll see each other again here or on our Discord. We’ll see if on this 25th something interesting happens. In any case, see you next time!

The moment that shaped the present and future of their entire relationship, 3 years ago.

[meenah-chan]

Safe Haven ~Epilogue~

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Trigger warning: None

Requested by: @romaissa Thank you for waiting for this. I apologize for the wait. This turns out the way as I imagined it to be, more or less. I felt so fluffy as I edited this for the last time. I hope you'll like this last part. Enjoy~~ 😚✨💖💖💖

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

A Barbatos x GN! MC fanfic

1.98k words

Genre: angst

Trigger warning: None

It was the same cliff… trees and breeze... The same dusk… But the voice calling them were not anymore...

… sensitive yet capable... One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

Despite it being in the middle of the day, the sky enveloping the Devildom is dark. Very unlike that place. A place where the sun would shine so brightly even from the back of their mind. Not the human world where they grew up. Not the Celestial realm they visited once. It was only the Devildom whose light came from the moon and not the sun. Should the moon doesn’t exist in this kingdom, it’ll surely be pitch black.

Yet, in the dimness of the kingdom they’ve suddenly been to... Who would have thought I would meet my sun in such a place? A smile formed on their face as they delved deeper in their thoughts.

As they did so, a strong wind blew past them. It was strong, they didn’t notice someone approaching them.

“Oh!” a pat on their shoulder snapped them back from their deep thoughts.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” They flit their head behind and meet with the same, familiar eyes.

“Lord Diavolo... Nothing. And Queen Rose? Did something happen?” Their surprised demeanor was replaced with a confused one. Why wouldn’t it? Since unless some responsibility on the Kingdom required to, the royal couple is technically attached at the hip. Which is still pretty rare.

“Stop with those formalities. You’re making me sad.” As if he were not such a tall, well-built demon, Diavolo looks at them like a weeping dog.

“Alright, I’m just teasing you... So, what happened?”

“Rose got angry over one of my posts on Devilgram.” His pout becomes more obvious as he complains to them like a child.

“Oh, that picture.” Diavolo didn’t have to elaborate further for them to guess which one it is. It was a picture of Diavolo pecking the Queen on her cheek on their bed chamber.

“Even if I were her, I would be mad. You’re the rulers of Devildom after all. You can’t afford showing any vulnerability to your people.”

“But love is our strength!” He emphasized the last word with his hand gesture and furrowed brows.

Which only received a giggle from the human. “You sound like those princesses in the movie we watched yesterday.”

“Hey, I’m being serious… Since when did you take her side anyway?”

“I’m just speaking with reason.”

“You’re so harsh these days. Where is the angel I knew? Barbatos is rubbing on you a bit too much.”

“I won’t be if you were a bit more reasonable. And remember, Simeon can be scary too sometimes.”

Diavolo paused for a moment to think. “Right.” And let out a sigh. “Why can't I win a debate with you? I'm the King, you know.”

“Then be glad I'm an ally.”

“But Y/N...” Diavolo stared at them for a moment. “I noticed you're becoming more beautiful. More than ever.”

“...Where’s Queen Rose? She needs to know the king’s flirting with his ex—”

“Hey, I don't mean it! I mean, not that way! You're beautiful as a friend.”

“Beautiful more than ever as a friend, yes?”

“I mean it with pure intention! And Rose is the most beautiful! You know that!”

“Most beautiful. Favorite line, huh…” They sassily fiddled with their nails as they stared at it.

“Let's settle this here? I-I'll even grant you a wish.”

They glanced at him from their nails and stared at him. “Pfft— Hahaha!! I'm kidding, I’m kidding, pfft— hahaha! You should have seen your face, hahaha!”

“Are you messing with me again?” He frowned at them.

“I was but, hey. A wish from the King is rather enticing.”

Looking straight in their eyes, “Are you still mad because of our past?” he asked. As if he's been holding this question back for so long. In guilt of what they have been through because of him.

And with a smile, they replied “No.”

It was the truth.

They could never hold anything against Diavolo. They can never hate the man they fell in love with…

“Your face is just so hilarious I can't help it.” Rather, they wanted to see that expression one last time. That expression I adored way too much, as I fell beside the cliff.

“Since when did you become so fickle?” Yet despite his words, a sense of relief emanates from the Royal Demon.

He is now certain. He is finally free from the shackles he created himself. And they...

“Spare Barbatos some slack. Some regular day offs will do too and you’ll be absolved of your offense.” Without Diavolo being able to snap a last glance on their face, they turned their back to him and started walking. Despite it, a smile formed on his face.

“Consider it done...” He said as they wave as a response before disappearing from his sight.

I see you’re finally free from my curse... Diavolo chuckled as he left to return to his queen, ready to ask for another forgiveness.

---------

“Y/N.” It was the same cliff. The same trees and breeze. The same dusk who witnessed everything. But the voice calling them were not the prince’s anymore.

“Barbatos, you’re early.”

“I apologize for always making you wait for me but,” worry was showing on his face as he looked at them. “...do you always wait here this early?”

“Don’t mind it. I love waiting for you.” Barbatos’ heart skipped a beat from their words, a tint of pink forming on both person’s ear tips.

“A-Ah, right. You didn’t tell me you'll plant some flowers here.” They touched the petals of the Forget-me-not flowers as if to avert the butler’s attention.

It was as healthy as the one they took care of or perhaps even healthier.

“Were they not to your liking?”

“No, I… love them.”

“Then I'd be glad if that were the case. I raised them with the thoughts of you after all.” Even though Barbatos’ remarks were always like that, they couldn’t help but feel bashful everytime.

“Seriously, how can you say some cheesy lines so smoothly?”

“Hmm? I don’t recall saying such things.” He lifted a knuckle under his chin while glancing upward as if in thoughts.

“This guy..!” All they could do is shut up and frown. They couldn’t remember a time where they actually won on Barbatos’ wordplays.

“Is there something that displeases my flower?” Barbatos moved towards them when the frown they wore turned into a sad smile when they glanced again at the blue flowers.

“Well...” they sighed, Barbatos now stepping in to caress their face. “I just remembered the poor flowers I destroyed that day. I cared for them for a long time only to die from my own hands.”

Barbatos brushed his thumb to their cheek, fondness reflected in his eyes. “But they didn’t.” It was still like a dream for him to be able to hold them freely as he wished.

“What do you mean? Of course they will. I pulled them all off the ground myself.”

“Would you believe me if I said this plant was your flower’s seedlings and roots?”

“Y-You mean..!?” The human’s eyes snapped back to the Forget-me-nots. That’s probably why the flowers have the exact same shade and size as back then.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.” He let them go to squat and check the flowers closely.

It took a while as they observed and admired the lush flowers. It was a comfortable silence, as Barbatos watched his favorite bud.

“Hey Barbatos.” Finally satisfied from staring at it, they rose on their feet. “I had some silly idle thoughts a while ago.”

“What is it?” He asked. But unlike them, the demon butler’s eyes never left his favorite flower. He could spend another millenia just gazing at them, and still say it’s the best sight he's ever seen.

“Devildom is a dark place no matter how I try to think of it.” He watch their back across the nightfall. The way the cold breeze brush through their locks. Those subtle shivers they give off as chills bites at their sensitive yet capable arms. One that withstand pain and hardship yet kept their gentleness.

“Then how come of all places, I’ll meet my sun there?” He tread beside them, not minding their words.

Not even the fondness in Barbatos’ eyes yields. Not in the slightest.

He knew. It was Diavolo. It will always be his Young Master. “He was so bright. So dazzling yet I couldn’t take my eyes off him. Diavolo will always be my sun.” And he… He already accepted this fact a long time ago. Staying by their side, until they found their happiness, is more than enough for him.

So instead of reacting, he removed his coat and placed it over their shoulder.

“I won’t forget. I will cherish the memories he left, no matter how painful it is. After all, he and the memories,” but they were thinking differently from Barbatos. They spun on their feet, suddenly facing him, who was just a few inches away from them, “...they all led me to my moon.” Their eyes were glistening, with him reflected in it. It took his breath– his words away.

“Shining through my darkest nights. Cradling me with its gentle light. Brushing off the tears from my eyes. My precious moon, who helped me remember that there’s still happiness beyond my sorrow.” They reached for his face. “Nights were supposed to be cold, yet he brings warmth instead. And you know what’s the most amusing thing?”

“In Devildom, whether it is day or night, you can see the moon in its brightest.” He never wants to assume anything, yet the way their thumb runs across his cheek so tenderly… The hope he hid with all his might, surges out wanting to be freed.

“Oh, but there is just one problem with my moon. He was so selfless, he wouldn't take me to himself.” The hand next to his cheek moved and brushed to the tip of his nose.

“Pardon?” He thought he finally sealed it away so perfectly, so why… With just a single touch…?

“I don’t wanna be single forever yet he keeps on ignoring my signs...”

“Wait, you mean…” But his promise… his vow to them...

“I still can’t say I don’t have any more feelings with Diavolo but I swear, I mean it. That’s why I’m already taking this to my hands… Hey–!” The knot within Barbatos’ heart came undone, along with the stream of tears he’s holding back due to their dreamlike words.

“Barbatos. Hey, don’t cry.”

They tried scooping his face with both hands only to stop by his own.“I’m so happy.” He placed one of their hands on his chest. It was warm, with his heart practically drumming crazily fast.

He never knew it’s possible to feel happier than the day they allowed him by their side. Incomparably so. It was at that moment he felt so… alive.

“I thought it’ll be a great gift for you.”

“This is the greatest gift I’ve ever received in my life.” He pulled their other hand and placed a tender kiss on its palm.

“I wonder if I can surpass this next time.”

“Then how about a kiss? Can I kiss you?”

“You don’t have to ask,” They took another step towards him, “I love you, my Luna.”

“I love you more, my Flora.” Barbatos sewed the space between them and soon, two breaths became one. All the words dissolved between their lips. Yet, all the emotions bottled up within poured out.

Of loneliness. Of longing. Of elation. Of attachment and inclination. With a spice of passion and devotion. All swirling together, filling the gaps in their hearts.

They parted just to converge again, like how their threads of fate crossed, unraveled and intertwined together.

The coldness of the night now utterly nonexistent within their moment, as they were embraced by the vivid rays of moonlight.

Part 1 (Safe Haven) | Part 2 (Safe Haven ~Another Story~)

Masterlist

[wof-reworked]

open invitation to talk about qinterwatcher? should've been our canon ot3 if tui wasn't a coward /hj

*crashing through the door* FUCK YEAH QINTERWATCHER HOURS, I'VE BREACHED CONTAINMENT BABEYYY

I used to think of Qinterwatcher as a bit of a cop-out (fandom has this weird tendency to create polyam ships not for the chemistry of the characters but just to avoid actually committing to a ship, with the added level of esp. when it's two male chars/one female char because they've heard or came to the conclusion that "ignoring female characters for mlm ships is bad" but still really ship the two men so just chuck her in there to feel better about it), but I kept thinking about it and I feel like the dynamic is incomplete without Moon???

Qinter was my first big ship in wings of fire, and I love it dearly and think it stands well on its own two feet tbh. Sometimes though I feel like Qinter works better in fanon that it does drawing strictly off canon??? Like Qibli and Winter have this sort of uncomfortable vibe sometimes of both of them hitting the other a little too close to home/both of them hurting the other person without realizing it. Moon feels like a needed middle ground of that, she sort of softens both of them in necessary ways that mean they can actually function as a unit and in return they take care of her too

Also like idk Moon deserves to get two boyfriends too !! like I talk shit abt her but like I think her and Qibli's dynamic is really sweet, and I think her and Winter, if Winter sorted out his shit, could have a really good dynamic as well. They were written to be in a love triangle, the writing for Moon/Qibli and Moon/Winter is already there. Like they hype her up so intensely and care abt her so much, they don't work with her individually but as a unit they work great.

Anyway I just think they work together so nicely !!! A little layered cake of dragons who love each other !!!! I just feel like their dynamic is two of them ganging up on the other to destroy them, either with love or with cruel mischief. I just think each combination of this ship works well and together they become one unstoppable unit. It's 3 dragons who have needed love piling it onto each other in spades because they don't want them to feel unloved ever again man ;0;

And like canonically they all admire the others so much,,,, I can't describe it any other way other than that scene in Howl's moving castle where they're in the flowers and Sophie describes herself as plain/ugly and without hesitation he's like "-But Sophie, you're beautiful," or w/e, like that specific brand of bewilderment, not trying to appease her or disagree with her but being completely taken aback that she even thinks that because it's so fundamentally wrong to him, like the reaction of someone being told gravity isn't real or the sun rises in the west and sets in the east. Like Sophie being beautiful is one of the core rules of reality. That's the Qinterwatcher dynamic babey !!!! Each of them has such a strange perception of themselves that is so entirely at odds with how the others perceive them, and they're just constantly cycling out who's Howl and who's Sophie.

But they also bring each other down to earth too !! None of them are like- scared of the others, if that makes sense?? Like part of what bugs me abt Cleril is the weird power dynamics at play- Clay is scared that if he does something wrong, Peril will do something dangerous (Winterwatcher also treads this line too tbh, again they'd have to sort this out for this ship to work, including in the context of Qinterwatcher). But like- Qibli has never been afraid to tell Winter his true feelings/thoughts, and vice versa. The same goes for Moon/Qibli too for that matter, heck, that's the whole resolution of darkness of dragons is Moon going "lol are you serious, no you're not a bad person you idiot" while Qibli looks guilty. And I think Moon does call out Winter when it's needed, like she's not some innocent wilting flower, she will defend herself and Winter needs that reminder that his actions have consequences and he's not actually that cool or better than anyone else. They check each other so well, and again that's why they need the others! Qibli and Moon together are able to tell off Winter, Qibli and Winter understand Moon/her problems, and Winter/Moon both stop Qibli from spiraling into himself. A necessary balancing act !!!

I just also can't stop picturing them sharing their interests with each other too like none of these dragons are neurotypical I'm sorry you'd better believe Winter and Qibli are there with Moon in the library reading a million weird old scrolls and having a competition on who can find the funniest, or Qibli and Moon bringing Winter food for his scavengers and providing what information they know.

[asterekmess]

Heyo! So I’ve been in the sterek fandom for quite some time now and I’ve been wondering about how you would describe stiles’ personality?

I’ve never actually sat down and watched a full episode of teen wolf (and honestly I’m not sure if I ever will considering everything I’ve heard about how they treat derek and his history but idk who knows I’m very curious in a lot of the plot lines and character development), and a lot of the stuff I know about the show I’ve scraped from fics, gifs, and meta posts

For me personally, Stiles’ personality and characterization is so fluid and nuanced that sometimes I have trouble pinning him down (tho derek doesn’t have trouble with that *wink wink*) So I would love to hear your thoughts! Sorry for the long ask, this grew legs and an ugly mug shdhdhhdjdcj anyhow have a great day :D

Well, everybody's got different perspectives and opinions on Stiles' personality, honestly. Even when you try to stick to 'canon' things, there's a lot of room for interpretation on the why when he does things, or what it says about him as a person, etc etc etc.

Personally, I see canon Stiles as kind of an asshole. I mean, I love him, and he does some incredible things, and he's clearly got an intense love for those close to him. But I do make him kinder in fics, or I at least make him regret being a dick.

In canon, we're given a Stiles who cracks 'dead baby' jokes (he's talking about human sacrifice, so the conversation was already plenty morbid. This wasn't out of the blue.) Who begs for Scott to let Jackson die (though it's made clear that this wasn't serious, and he later works to save Jackson's hide like ten times over), and who will mercilessly poke and prod at people's insecurities or painful pasts, especially when worked up. Isaac's previous abuse isn't a no-go topic. Derek having 'dated' (read: been assaulted at worst and at best, been lied to) serial killers isn't something he's going to tread lightly around. He doesn't try to soften things to save someone's feelings most of the time.

He's presented as someone who is incredibly impulsive, with his emotions, words, and actions. It's kind of implied this is because of his ADHD, but that doesn't explain how often the impulsively cruel or harsh things he says aren't retracted or apologized for, or just generally regretted. Yes, ADHD people are impulsive, and yes sometimes our mouths get away from us and we can end up saying some Fucked Up shit to people because we literally couldn't control the words coming out. But that doesn't mean we're cruel or evil or mean. We still feel bad for doing those things, and those of us who are decent people, try to fix or repair what we've messed up. I am...not a fan of how often ADHD is used as an excuse to make a character a dickhead because "he has no filter." No filter means we struggle to control our thoughts and what we say, it doesn't make us heartless.

So, when I'm writing him, I fix it. Even if he still Does something fucked up, I have him care that he did it. I have him realize what he did or said wasn't okay and respond to that knowledge in some way. Which to some people, means I'm just ignoring what a fucker he is, but imo it feels like a horrible fuckup on the creator's parts, so I'm just correcting the mistake. He's no less Stiles just bc I taught him to say sorry.

Anyway. I'm trying NOT to ramble here.

To answer your question, as best I can; Stiles is sarcastic. Stiles is passionate to a fault. His emotions are BIG, whatever they are. Good, Bad, or even apathy. Whatever feelings he has are just intense. He is very much a no gods, no kings, no masters, kind of man. There isn't really an 'authority' to him, except maybe his dad sometimes. He puts family, and those he considers family, First. But that doesn't mean he isn't selfless. Because he is. Incredibly so. Uncomfortably so.

He walks into gasoline for his friends. He puts himself in the position of losing the only parent he has left, for his classmates. He cares enough about strangers to insist a drunk girl he's spoken to for five minutes max stay hydrated and give her a bottle of water. He literally handed over his mind on a platter to a fox demon for someone he barely fucking knew, to keep her safe.

Loyal. Humorous. A fighter. Family-oriented. Clever. Passionate. Strong, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And a very good liar, in my opinion.

He doesn't lie very well in the show, not to people's faces. He'll stumble around a "I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him" or "are you asking me to tell you what I would have told you if I were going to tell you it?" but at the same time, he can repress and hide away his feelings and his pain in a way not even Derek manages.

He asked Caitlin questions about her girlfriend, and worked to solve the human sacrifices, literal minutes after finding out he'd just lost his oldest friend. He drove Lydia to the warehouse to save Jackson after having the shit beat out of him by a man who'd been learning to cause pain since he was a CHILD. And he never gives away how incredibly broken he is for more than a couple seconds. and it's a little frightening, because he convinces people in this show who are lie detectors that he's okay, when he's a fucking mess. Even Derek shows his pain.

You're right that he's nuanced, and part of that is because when you see him in meta or in fic, what you're seeing is a dozen versions of him sort of compressed into a flat image. Because he changes throughout the show, and while some of his core personality stays the same, a lot of stuff changes. So one fic might harp on his insensitivity, and callousness toward Isaac or how easily he says "just let them die" when talking about Derek or someone else. And then another will dive into how fucking far he's willing to go, travelling all the way to mexico and facing down a hunter clan a dozen times more powerful than the argents with no one but a banshee at his side, just to get Derek back. Or how he saw Malia hurting and sat with her on a couch and held her hand. One is a much earlier version of Stiles, from the start of the show, the other from his midpoint. Near the end, you're able to say that he was so torn about leaving Derek while he was dying, he had to be Begged to go save Scott. That he manipulated an ENTIRE FBI investigation in order to save and protect Derek. (im focusing on derek bc sterek, but also bc his relationship with Derek is the Biggest Arc he has in the show, and the most solid)

You're going to read about different versions of him, and I totally get how that's confusing.

We all sort of bleed ourselves into him and either bring certain canon characteristics to the forefront, or straight up add our own so he's more relatable to us.

So while I can't really help you pin down any specific Stiles, just know that there's not really a 'true' Stiles that anyone can confirm or deny. It's all just perception, so however you see him, go with it. Strengthen it. Explore it. I'm sure you'll find people who see what you do.

[ithinkthereforeidread]

the collected poems of todd anderson

christmas day of 1959.

ao3 link here

He knew this day would come. He’s been dreading it, sure, he’d never really enjoyed Christmas much beforehand, his multiple unopened desk sets epitomised such. At his house, fires weren’t warm, hugs were stiff and silence was punctured by the sounds of laughing children in the house next door. It’d always been this way for the Anderson family. Todd grew to accept it.

But this year was supposed to be different.

He was supposed to spend his Christmas at Welton, with all the Dead Poets.

 Usually, the boys would go home to their families for Christmas, but through the efforts of Neil he assembled a complex string of falsities about a gargantuan Latin group project that all the Dead Poets needed to finish.

“Serious business, I care about my education father, why else would have you sent me here?” said Neil over the phone, holding his index finger to his mouth to silence Todd from his chuckling, although all Todd really saw was the wide grin that hid behind it, and the way Neil’s eyes crinkled up all the way, a complete oxymoronic action when Neil was usually on the phone to his father. Todd stifles back laughter and Neil smacks him lightly, only causing him to laugh more.

“Well, that was quicker AND easier than I expected...” Neil states after placing the phone back on it’s cradle and ending the call. “But hey!” Neil squeaks, “We’re all spending Christmas together! The biggest concern was just getting my father to agree, everyone else’s parents seemed fine with it.”

Todd and Neil start to walk, side by side, Neil bumps him playfully. “I’m so glad you told me, Todd.” Neil turns his head and looks towards the shorter boy. “My Christmases at home aren’t that great either, I’ve always wanted to spend them here, but I could never work up the courage to ask my father, ask Charlie, in our first year he almost called up my father himself. It was hilarious, he had to look up at the phone, he was so short.”

“You and Charlie have been friends for ages then?” Todd queries “Oh yeah, we met in our last year of preparatory school, he was a pretty mischievous kid, obviously not much has changed.” Neil laughs, “he was just always so confident and sure of himself… I always wanted to be like that, nothing ever got to him.”

“Has that changed?” Todd’s questions were always short and straight to the point. Startling upfrontness in the most unexpected of moments. It was something Todd was known for.

“Not really… I mean, I try to get him to open up… he just isn’t an emotions type of person, I think?” Neil scratches the back of his head. “During our 9th year he went through something really big and not great, but he didn’t tell me a single word about it. To this day I have no idea wahat happened. I tried asking but it didn’t lead anywhere… all I know is some kid had been expelled but it didn’t look like him and Charlie fought or anything because they spent so much time together ....” Neil trails off.

“You know people stare at us sometimes.” Todd blankly states, an unconscious switch being flicked immediately. “When we’re walking to classes, when we go into our dorm, when we exchange smiles in classes… They bump their friends with their shoulders and snicker under their breaths… Have you noticed that Neil?”

Neil’s walking pace slows slightly, “Uh… no, I-uh I didn’t… Do they think we’re-“ “-Maybe.” Todd interrupts before Neil can say The Word. “Bu-but we aren’t, I mean, you were talking about that girl from-“ “-Yeah! Ginny, from the play, wow, I mean, she’s just great.” “Yeah, I’m sure she is.”

God.

This got awkward.

Nice one Todd.

Did it again.

~~

Ink splatters dried on the paper he cradled so delicately, he stares at the contents once more.

“what wouldn't i give to love myself as feverishly as I love you? what is the opposite of amnesia? that is what you are. sometimes i cant find my way around my memories. i have to take detours… i think you were the best one.

little fragments of joy pepper my vacancy i didn't know that i should want to be hopeful or that being hopeful meant giving up some intrinsic part of me.

last night i had a dream that we were breathing underwater flying high in the sky, arms outstretched, laughing, smiling, hugging, bodies pressed onto one another. it didn’t last long. piece by wretched, fragile piece i throw out every hated qualm of thee your impenetrable stare fixed onto me

i have hoped for love that is beyond you being caught by me or me trying to slip through the cracks. they read me, you, us, with their glacial eyes and think they know but they don't

and it seems neither do we.”

“Wow, Todd. This is so… different. But good! It’s just, I’ve never seen anything like this in our English class, in the poems we’ve studied… I just… wow.” Neil looks up at Todd, eyes so soft, Neil knows how big of a deal this is to Todd. He doesn’t just share his work with anyone.

“I-I’m glad you liked it.” Todd smiles, it’s almost as if he’s had to completely remove himself from himself in order to let Neil observe and compliment this part of him, he takes the page out of Neil’s hands and places it in his book. “What-er, who was it about?” Neil gingerly queries. “I- uh, well.” Todd’s heating up now, he should’ve expected Neil to ask him this question. Dammit. Why was he so stupid for letting him read it. “Well, I-I don’t think you necessarily have to go through something to write a-about it, it-it’s fiction for a reason.”

Neil’s lips downturn slightly, “I guess, but everything that we produce in art- whether that be acting, or poetry writing, painting- whatever… it… subconsciously shows something that you might not necessarily want to show or see, right? Like how Keating got us the other day to choose a poem we liked and recite it… It tells you so much about a person. When Charlie was reading his poem… wasn't all you could think about was how bleak it was?” Neil continues, “The academically and poetically rigorous selection made by Cameron or Knox’s complete devotion and enamoration with the simplest emotion of the human being, love? We hide these parts of ourselves, maybe we view them as flaws and faults of our cognitive machine, but art reveals them all.” Neil delivered a love poem to the class himself. He takes a big breath and lets the words he just spoke sit in the air of their dorm for a while.

“Into the meadows dawn..” Todd clicks his fingers, a vague ritual to jog his memory. “flashes my faun.” Todd recites “O Hunter, snare me his shadow… O Nightingale catch me his strain. Else moonstruck with music and madness, I track him in vain” all they’re doing is staring at each other.

“You- you remembered my poem?” Neil questions. “Yeah- I went to the library after you said it- wanted to see if there was more… Oscar Wilde…” “Yeah.” “I notice them staring now that you mentioned it.” Neil breaks the trajectory of the conversation, “God, they’re all so stupid, it’s as if Judy Garland and President Eisenhower just strutted into the school, arms interlocked!” Todd chuckles. Then more silence.

“Has anything changed, Neil?” “What do you mean?” “Between us. What this is. Our comradely bond, as Keating puts it.” Todd chuckles, “ Our co-dependence, attachment at the hip.”

More silence…

“I-I think…” Neil finally states, “that it was never anything it wasn’t already… perhaps we ignored it, suppressed the feeling… but… it was always there.”

“For me, at least.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

~~~

The wind pierced Todd’s skin in tiny microscopic ways, embedding itself under the protection of his coat and completely evading the rest of his physical form, though perhaps the wind wasn’t the cause of the spine-curdling ache he felt, but simply an additional symptom.

Bells rang, green and red Christmas themed paraphernalia adorned the streets he’d previously been driving through, staring out the window at lights and snow that trickled onto an already naturally bleached layer of the ground. His footprints leave indents and obtain a slippery consistency to the outer sole and toe cap. He treads more carefully.

His hands clutch the leather cover of the journal he is hiding underneath his jacket, minimising any further damage that may soon come its way, finally, through minutes of soul-searching and carefully treading through stones and flowers, he makes his way to Neil.

He looks at him with a certain sense of fragility, his stone head protruding from the ground and covered in snow. Todd wipes some away to see the carvings made into him. His full name. Aged 17. Dutiful son of Tom and Susan Perry.

The newness of it all sends a pang to Todd’s stomach as he looks at the other stones weathered with age and the constant bombardment of the elements. That’ll be Neil one day. Flowers not fresh and carvings unreadable. Forgotten to the world and all its inhabitants, rotting in satin lining and cherry oak wood. Todd stifles back a sob and covers his mouth, forcing himself to get it together for just this moment.

“Merry Christmas Neil.” Todd whispers, the words can barely come out. “You-you’re not here physically but you’re here with me, and Charlie, and-and all the other Dead Poets.” he continues, “though- though Charlie isn’t here technically either. He left. Had to. He’s not graduating, at least he’s not at Welton” Todd looks down, brushes his emerging tears away with his shoulder

“I just wanted to come here and give you your gift, I’ve had it in the making for a while now, you’ve seen some of it already. I wish I could’ve given it to you earlier… if I had known this would happen.” he pulls out the journal, and opens it up.

“Here, I’ll read you some.” Todd, though already cold and miserable, situates himself next to Neil’s cold headstone and leans his head on it, opening the journal's contents to its first page.

“Dear Neil,” Todd’s starts, but adds an offside, “It’s dated on the 7th of a while back, my-my birthday.”

“I hope this book finds you well,” Todd’s breath hitches, “especially considering that I’m probably too anxious to deliver it to you. What you’ll see here is what we spoke about the night we first kissed. About freeing ourselves from any subconscious fear or dichotomous dread of both working with and against the grain or being liked or disliked. The people I look up to the most are inspirationally unpopular. So, here’s a suite of poems by yours truly. Hopefully you’ll find your own meaning and reverence in the words my brain has conjured up, words mostly pertaining to you. Every inch of your being alive has me transfixed and enamoured, and I’m truly gobsmacked on the good deed I must’ve committed to have deserved having you in my life.” Todd’s face is red and stuffy from the cold and his breathing is short and punctured.

“You’re sleeping right near me at this moment, and as a sweaty toothed madman once said. We were together. I forgot the rest. Consider this journal a detachable limb of my own self, something you can always carry around and know that I am with you, always. You can suck the life force, the bone marrow out of the words I have written in here and I would applaud and encourage you to do so. Without you, I have no idea where I’d be right now. I owe you so much Neil, you’ve taught me that sometimes the world can be good. That a person’s smile can brighten an entire room. A performance perfectly acted can be a person’s ultimate achievement and their triumph. You are the word phenomenal incarnate Neil, I hope my words do you some sort of justice.

You deserve the world, Neil. I’m brainstorming ways to give it to you.

With love, Todd.”

——————————————————————————

i hope you guys enjoyed!! its fucking brutal honestly but needed some angst and tragedy in my fictional life to reflect my own.

just a preface that some of the poem todd read's is borrowed from pete wentz old emo livejournal posts because i need to somehow tie my two big interests together and MAN does that man write some gay ass shit. hope your heart doesnt hurt too much <3

creds to @neilscrown on tiktok for posting the headcanon "Todd definitely bought Neil a Christmas present and he never got the chance to give it to him so he would sit in his once shared room and stare at it" it tore my HEART OUT and inspired this rambling