#these are the only heroes i could think of

[fantasykiri5]

Fabian Seacaster, Maximum Legend that you are

[acid-ixx]

a/n: shameless self promo for this fanfic.

my favorite thing about portraying platonic yandere! batfam (or any platonic yandere family) is the fact that no matter what universe it is, if you were neglected or not, a villain or hero, civilian or celebrity, human or nonhuman— their obsession is driven by the mere fact that you already belong.

to them, in the manor, with them, always and forever more. it's like a natural phenomena. it's not fate but rather an established fact that you deserve to be pampered like royalty; to the point their devotion seems holy. you could try to run away from them and you'll still be in their arms right after. you could run to the end of the universe and they'll capture you before you could run from time. because that string of attachment they have with you can never be severed. you can never cut ties with what was already engraved into your soul.

you can hate them all you want, and they'll embrace the embers of your resentment, even if they'd rather you reciprocate— you'll still belong either way.

they acknowledge every part of you, every imperfection you bare. you could bite them, hit them, punch them; yet nothing will falter their devotion towards you. because you're family first and foremost more than anything else. the only thing they won't accept is if you ever dare harm yourself— nothing is allowed to hurt you, not even you. because you're precious, you're their treasure and their pride and joy. and if it was them who had ever wronged you, they'll always find ways to repent, to atone and to make you forgive them.

"do you think we're family in every universe?"

"i hope not—"

"but we already are in this one, no?"

[justatypicalwizard]

Katsuki doesn't believe in love at first sight

Katsuki never believed in love at first sight. How could someone meet eyes and feel as if a thunder ruptured down from the skies and struck them? To love someone means to accept every part of them and to be able to incorporate them into your everyday life. It means building a brand new everyday with that person.

In order to do so you need to know a lot about them. Who they are, what are their plans for the future, what is their character and so on. Then you need to see if you are compatible in many spheres. You need to invite them to your friends group to see if it’ll hit off, you should try living together, they need to get to know your parents.

There are simply so many things to check off the list in order to be able to say you love someone. Otherwise it’s just empty words. I love you here and there. I love you for a week. I love you when you do as I please. Bullshit.

Mina constantly pestered Katsuki that his definition of love feels more like a chore or a job interview than like something a human would be able to accomplish. It wasn’t his fault he had some standards everyone else seemed to lack.

So even now Katsuki doesn’t like to admit that he fell in love at first sight, because it wasn’t the first time when he looked at you.

A quiet ping of his phone tore him out of his work. A new message from someone he didn’t recognise. Without much thought he opened the text.

[Hi, you may not know me but we go to the same lecture on Wednesday at 1 PM. I heard you have neat notes and wanted to ask if it wouldn’t be a problem if you send me today’s ones. I  got sick and couldn’t come and I wouldn’t want to fall behind with the material. Thanks!]

Geez, was there a longer way to type it? Couldn’t you just write: can you give me notes? On the other hand he always complained about people being douchebags.

Clicking onto your profile Katsuki saw a cheesy photo and a few posts from your daily life and vacations. Nothing much to be honest. Yet, he could vaguely remember your face around the people who entered the lecture hall. It won’t hurt to help.

[Sure]

[File attached]

Pushing his phone to the far end of his desk he went back to work. A few minutes later there was another quiet ding and this time Katsuki felt irritation bubbling inside him. It was you once again.

[Thank you so much!]

[I owe you]

[If you ever need anything feel free to write]

Whatever.

It only took a week for Katsuki to be indeed looking for help from someone. Once in a while, during his hero training, he was forced to pair up with someone in order to work on his rescue skills. Usually they’d use dummies but some fucktard in the course planning team decided that it would be most helpful if the students could train with a real human.

Normally Katsuki would ask Mina. He’d swallow his pride and force himself to listen to her babbling for two hours. Just to get it done. Unfortunately, Mina dumped him today, leaving only a [sorry, not feeling well, find someone else]. Damned flu season.

Who was he supposed to ask now, Denki?

As he scrolled down his chats, your profile pic flew by making Katsuki halt.

If you ever need anything feel free to write.

Screw it, you said it yourself, might as well find a person already and move on with his day. He typed a quick explanation and pushed the send button. The day was nearing the afternoon when you responded.

[Sure, if it’s two hours I can make it. Send me when and where I should be]

He shrugged and gave you the address for today's training.

In the early evening Katsuki found himself trotting towards his usual fighting ground absentmindedly. He was thinking about something related to work at Miruko’s when the idea flew out of his head. You were there, he could see you from afar, walking in circles in front of the main door.

Were you an idiot? It was the middle of winter and the early evening cold tore through layers of warm coats to sink into your bones. Why weren’t you entering the building to warm up a bit.

That’s why Katsuki is so stubborn about the whole love at first sight thing. It certainly wasn’t that exact moment when his heart skipped a beat because of you. You were shivering, hiding your chin and red tinted cheeks deeper into the collar of your winter coat. When you spotted him you reached out a gloved hand and waved.

“What the fuck are you doing outside, get in there or you’ll catch another cold.” He persisted, ushering you towards the entrance.

“Wow, good evening to you too.” You looked at him from under your woollen hat, surprised to get yelled at first thing you see him. Though, you did hear the upcoming pro-hero Dynamite, who went to the same lecture as you, was rather intense. “I don’t know, this place just looks fancy. Didn’t want to stand inside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“So you stood outside like a dumbass not knowing where to go.”

“Exactly.”

He let you in and showed you around. After leaving your coat and getting a warm tea (his idea), you were ready to help with his training. The support students and university staff running around asked you to take off any unnecessary piece of clothing such as jewellery or sweaters that could get in the way. You gladly went through with their instructions.

You b-lined another student, a senior support course, who showed you the place where you’d be waiting to be rescued. The spacious arena was moulded into the shape of a city. Some buildings were fine, others rundown as if a villain attack rolled over them. There were paveways and roads, streetlamps and plastic trees. You even spotted a car, though it didn’t look like it could take off anytime soon. 

“It will look the same over and over. You sit or lie down in the place where I leave you and wait for your hero.” Your guide briefed the rules. “And every time pick out a different scenario and tie the band in the place that is put on it.” He handed you a dozen of ribbons with small notes attached to them. The first one you grabbed read: broken arm (tie around elbow).

“Sure.” You nodded your head and he left you on the second floor of a wannabe office building. There were a few chairs scattered around and a table that had a weird bite mark on it. You obediently wrapped the band around your arm and sat down on the floor, waiting.

You wondered how it’ll be, to get fake rescued. You were never in such a situation, always watching the villains from the comfort of your TV rather than first hand. What was Dynamite’s quirk? Suddenly you felt stupid for not knowing. On the other hand, you were never up to date with new heroes and all the popularity polls or colourful magazines. Guess you’d just have to wait and see.

Katsuki didn’t leave you for long. You were counting the pieces of shattered glass beneath your feet when a series of explosions passed beside the building. The small pieces you were meticulously adding shook and you let out a squeak when something heavy hit the wall behind you.

“Shut up, it's me.” Craning your neck, you saw Dynamite’s face, upside down, looking at you. He was halfway through the window. “What have you got?”

“God, you scared me.” You chuckled but quickly shut your mouth. The guide asked you to play the best victim you can. Victims shouldn’t laugh.

Dynamite hopped in front of you and crouched to read the note attached to your elbow. He mumbled something in the lines of fucking scenario and looked you straight in the eye.

“I’m gonna get you out of here.”

There wasn’t anything dramatic going on, it was even quiet outside save for a few shouts here and there. Yet, there was just something in a bulked man looking at you and promising you protection, one secured by his own arms. You felt like the guy from the firefighters video.

You couldn’t stop the giggle at the thought.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Dynamite spat.

“Nothing, nothing.” You shook your hands in front of your still laughing face. “Oh shit, this one’s supposed to be broken. Okay, just save me already.” You really fought with the snicker but the cheesiness and awkwardness of the whole situation had you in a chokehold.

“Whatever.” The hero sighed, visibly annoyed, and scooped you into his hands like a sack of potatoes. “I’ll need you to wrap your legs around me. Push the broken arm into my chest and use your healthy one to hold onto me.”

You did as instructed and glued yourself to him as tight as you could. He still held you with one of his arms and just when you started to wonder how the two of you would get down from the second floor he jumped out of the window.

A scream escaped your lips but it was muffled by a loud explosion.

For the next two hours you flew through the air in Dynamite’s hands over and over again. He held you in different ways, depending on your supposed injury, but every time you landed into the safe zone, you realised you were the first or nearly the first. That guy was quick like hell.

The last scenario rolled over and it was a panic attack. You were supposed to be physically fine but otherwise unresponsive and difficult to work with due to your shock. Dynamite tried to take extra steps to calm you down, speaking about how he’ll take you to safety and how it will all be over in a second. It looked like he was having a hard time.

“I need to touch you to take you somewhere safe.” He said, wrapping one of his hands around you.

When you were both at the safe zone, with cardboard paramedics to take care of you, Dynamite did something different. Instead of leaving you in the place where the group of injured would grow, he carried you straight to the ambulance.

“She has a panic attack.” He said to the empty fake vehicle and you just couldn’t take any more of it. You erupted in a fit of laughter. Your body shook in his hands and you gripped the X on his uniform to steady yourself. “What the fuck?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You tried to explain but the laughter squeezed your throat. “I’m a shitty actor.”

“I see that.” Dynamite grumbled.

“Do you really need to talk to cardboard people and empty vehicles for two hours every week?” You asked, wiping a tear from your cheek.

“Is it really that fucking funny?”

“No, no! I get it.” You finally calmed down, letting go of the front of his costume. “It’s not that funny, maybe a bit but not that much. I think I’m just in a good mood.” You shrug your shoulders. “It was fun, flying with you, like a free rollercoaster ride.” You gave him a big, big smile. A big genuine smile. A big, genuine, lovely smile, with your eyes closed and teeth out and cheeks tinted pink.

People are stupid. That’s what Katsuki thinks. It’s not love at first sight. It’s love because of a single sight.

Even though Katsuki came to some fundamental conclusions in the topic of love he would get all defensive and intense when he was asked about how the two of you met. It would sound way better if he could say the two of you met, then started to talk more, then went on a date and agreed to meet each other and so on. He just felt so stupid, so awkward and silly when he had to admit that all it took for you was a single smile to make his heart skip a beat.

The worst part? It felt a little pathetic honestly, as if people never smiled at him, but truthly they didn’t, not like that. Not like you.

Katsuki still doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Yet, every other piece of his meticulously calculated equation of love was torn down and rewritten, all of which he gladly took.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi!

Could you write something about a villain finding out their long lost supposed dead brother is his nemesis (the hero)

Dunno, i just love how your write personal drama between rivals and reveals

"Stop," the villain hissed, "talking like you know me."

"I know you're better than this. I know you want more than this-"

The villain advanced, cutting the words off with swift lethal slashes of his blade. It forced the hero to parry, armoured arm bands clanging as he blocked blow after blow in turn, forced to retreat.

Pathetic. Weak. Unwilling to fight properly. To make the kill. It would be the downfall of the hero - the villain would make sure of it! Fury coursed through his veins.

"I know I let you down-"

"-You?" The villain laughed, scornful. In an instant, he had his blade at the tender vulnerabilities of the hero's stupid throat. "You're-"

"-I know," the hero said through ragged pants for air, "that you want to fly away!"

The villain froze.

"Excuse me?"

There was only one person he had ever confessed as much to, and that person was long gone.

"Dale."

His name was soft, a little broken, on the hero's lips. As if the villain had already plunged the dagger through into the hero's windpipe and left them gasping, wheezing, choking on a fatal wound.

"God, Dale," the hero said. "I'm so sorry."

The villain's eyes widened.

The hero grabbed his blade arm, twisting and forcing him expertly to drop the weapon, seizing the other wrist for good measure. They tousled and the movements - the struggling closeness, the precise way that the hero knew to pin him - no. No. He was slammed up against the wall, the other blade clattering to the floor.

"I know," the hero said, against his ear. "That you're better than this. Better than - better than your family. At least you can be. If you want to be. Do you still want to be? Or am I too late?"

The villain wanted to turn, abruptly, as the familiarity of the voice settled over him. It was deeper, rougher, than it had been when they were kids. It was unmistakable, though, once the realisation sank in. His body stiffened.

"Don't you fucking come at me with a dead man's voice."

"Do you still want to be? I don't have long. Dale, please-"

The villain bashed his head back. He was taller than he had been when they were boys, and the back of his head collided with the armoured mask covering the top half of his brother's face.

The hero groaned. His grip loosened just enough for the villain to follow up with an elbow to the ribs, seeking out any weakness the hero was foolish enough to grant.

He snatched up a knife and - damn it. It once again hovered just at the hero's neck. Trembling. The hero grabbed him by the hip and hurling him down. The knife went clattering again. They rolled, reduced to something less like seasoned fighters and more scrapping like children.

"Dale, for god's sake-"

"-Don't for god's sake me," the villain snapped. "You ghost. You - you bloody traitor!"

"We don't have time!"

"YOU LEFT ME! MAKE TIME!"

The hero went quiet, went slack beneath the next roll, letting Dale shove him down against the icy concrete floor. Up close, Dale drank in more of the obvious so damn obvious signs. The hero's eyes. The line of his jaw, less-baby faced, but...

"Henry."

He didn't allow his voice to break. Or maybe there was nothing in him left to break. Maybe that was wishful thinking.

The hero swallowed. "Come with me. I don't - I won't - leave you again. Not here. Not with them."

The villain considered that, chest aching. The hero was being sincere, that much was clear. Ten odd years ago he would have followed anywhere his brother asked. Ten odd years ago he wouldn't have recognised the man - the weapon, the warrior, the oncoming war - that he had become.

"We need to go now," the hero said. "I know a way out, but-"

"-I'm not going anywhere."

He'd never seen the body, it was true. His father had always said it was too ravaged, too terrible a sight. That he should remember his brother as he was. Their most vicious, their best, everything that Dale should aspire to be.

"Dale-"

He drew another of his many blades, and that time he struck. The knife buried deep into his brother's shoulder. Not a kill shot. Enough to really, really hurt though.

His brother bit back the scream, for what that was worth, so maybe they were still blood. Maybe father's training still held.

"-You left me with them, and I made them mine." He leaned in, teeth bared. "So, yes. You're too late. I suppose Dale can rest in peace with his brother's body, can't he?"

He pulled back, leaving the knife in, as he straightened. He stood over his brother's body, feeling like he'd run a triple marathon. He wiped the blood away from his cheek, hoping his eyes were cool but knowing they were not.

The hero leveraged himself up, slow and wary, clamping pressure down on the wound.

Distantly, Dale could hear footsteps. His honour guard. His bloodhounds. The dark throne he had clawed himself a survival out of.

"I never meant to leave you behind," the hero said. "Father he - I can still help you. Let me help you."

The villain scoffed. It seemed he did still have something in him that could break after all.

"Fly away, Henry. You stay any longer and you won't have wings either."

His brother stared at him.

The footsteps grew louder.

The villain raised an eyebrow, drawing another blade, twirling it swift and savage between his fingers.

"I'll be back," the hero said. "Now that I - I'll be back. I promise."

Then, the villain watched him run.

[cloudcountry]

when this is over ⤿ keigo deserves to be cherished.

tags: he acts like a bird...i'm not sorry!! soft hawks, biting, thoughts of marriage.

The soft cooing and chattering from Keigo is the only noise in the otherwise silent bedroom. His head rests comfortably in your lap, the skin he touches tingling. His hair is wild and free from flying around all day, and you run your fingers through the strands in an attempt to smooth it down. He nuzzles your thigh, nipping at the fat affectionately, and you squirm at the feeling of his stubble tickling your skin.

Keigo latches onto your thighs, gloved hands rough against you but his touch is so so gentle. His pupils are blown wide, eyes staring straight into your own, lips curling into the softest smile. He holds you in place as he nudges your flesh with his nose, pressing a soft kiss to your skin. You giggle at the feeling, wiggling your hips to try and get away from the ticklish sensation, but Keigo holds you tight. Hero training was no joke—his grip strength was strong and you were powerless against it.

“It’s not fair.” you say softly, “I want to kiss you too.”

His flushes, pretty and pink and yours, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. It’s precious, the way he avoids your eyes now, hands clenching and unclenching against your thighs as he thinks it over. Only you could turn him into a blushing, unsure man, his wings shrinking against his back, cautious and embarrassed for the first time in his life.

“Patience.” he says softly, unrelenting in his grip and his mouth, biting you just a little harder for your teasing.

You laugh, bringing a hand up to your mouth to muffle the sounds. His wings knock against your cheek, the feathers brushing against you as if they’re reprimanding you for laughing at him. It only makes you laugh harder, and in his petty display of dominance, Keigo slides himself down the bed and grabs your ankles, pulling you with him.

“Keigo!” you shriek, laughter bursting free from your lips, filling the once quiet room with squeals and gasps.

He looks smug, always elated to have made you laugh, his elbows coming to rest on either side of your head. He stares down at you, lovingly and quietly, waiting until your laughter dies down and there’s nothing between you except for your heaving chest.

He’s so lucky he gets to share these things with you. Something so unique and pretty and soft, filling his chest until he fears he will pop. If he did, he’d surely burst into the color of your eyes and the way your laugh sounds and the memories of your smile he has forever saved in his mind.

He coos softly, wings swooping over the sides of the bed, trapping the two of you in a canopy of red feathers. Your gaze is torn away from him in favor of his feathers, your mouth falling into an awed “o,” your fingers reaching out to stroke the top of his wing. He tilts it closer to you, shuddering as you pet him, your hands growing more confident the more he allows you to do.

Keigo doesn’t even notice he’s lowering his head until he finds himself resting on your chest, eyes fluttering shut at your soft touch.

Being a Pro is hard. It always will be. Keigo wants to make it easier, but all that means for him is that his job is even more difficult. You purse your lips, tempted to say something, but knowing that ultimately Keigo wouldn’t have done anything different if he had a second chance.

It was the life he chose. It was the life every single Pro had chosen. It wouldn’t be fair to them for you to treat it like a burden, not when everyone was safer because of them.

“Thank you.” you whisper as the sun dips beneath the horizon, as darkness swallows up your room, “I love you so much.”

Keigo shifts his head, looking up at you. His eyes are bright and full of life. It’s reassuring.

“It’s my job, honey. I love you too.” he presses the back of his hand against your forehead, brushing over the skin with his knuckles.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him into you. His chest collides with yours but it’s tender, like sharing fried chicken with him on movie nights, like taking him out on a picnic date, like him holding you tight as he flies high above the world, showing you exactly what his world is like.

You wish you could do more for him aside from this. Trimming and painting his nails didn’t feel like enough, helping him preen didn’t feel like enough. Bathing with him and cooking for him and making him tea every morning and night to soothe his aching muscles and bones didn’t feel like enough.

Maybe it never would be enough.

He holds the whole world on his shoulders, balancing it for the good of every person on the planet, even when it feels like the weight will crush him.

Pro Heroes take care of everyone. Who takes care of them?

As you stare down at Keigo, his expression blissed out as he holds you close, his posture completely relaxed and trusting, you know the answer.

Those who love heroes, and those who heroes love in return, are the ones that protect them.

The general public doesn’t know what this is like. They don’t have a hero who trusts them as much as they trust the heroes. They don’t have someone who would go to work, only for them to end up on the news every day. They didn’t have to worry about whether their loved one would have to face the corruption that undoubtedly ran through the higher up hero circles.

Could they even handle it if they did? You could barely handle it most days.

You shake your head and kiss the exposed skin of his forehead, willing the thoughts away. Now was not the time for misery. The both of you knew this well. There would be plenty of time to mourn and contemplate later, when stakes were higher and you two won’t be together. Right now was precious, with you in his arms and him in yours.

When this is over, you think fondly, I’m going to marry him.

Keigo bumps his nose against your chin when he goes in for a kiss, and you squeeze him tighter.

[vulpixisananimal]

"And you're absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure about this?" (Isabeau asked, he looked at you, concerned. He had worried about you all morning, helping you get ready for the day, checking for bruises, for anything wrong at all. But no, the only issue you had was the same issue you had yesterday.)

"I'm sure, absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure." (You nod. It was, it was the only place you could think to go.)

(The Favor Tree.)

(You were going to be useless in the house. Drag them all down, get them killed, fail over and over again if you just ran into that brick wall called the House of Change. No, no what you needed, was, some time alone.)

(It took some convincing, but eventually, everyone agreed. Isabeau would help you to the Favor Tree, sit you down, and you'd wait for them to return. You tried to subtelty give them tips, hints on how to get through the house without you, but it was hard without giving anything away.)

(They would be the heros this loop, you'd just be another frozen soul in Dormont, unless you looped back beforehand, naturally.)

"I-I could still carry you! I wouldn't mind! I can beat sadness AND help you through the house!" (Isa was practicly begging, but you couldn't go, not this time at least.)

(You chuckled, and smiled.) "Hey don't worry, I'll be waiting for you right where you leave me, okay?"

"Ha, haha. ." (The laugh was forced. Jokes wouldn't help warm the air here.)

(Eventually, the two of you ended up at the Favore Tree. It loomed above you; imposing, menacing, taunting. You kept your forced smile, Isabeaus arm holding you up. You still. Couldn't. Fell. It.)

". . . The Favor Tree's pretty cool, isn't it?" (Isabeau says.)

"Yeah it is. . ." (Ah you knew this line.)

"Glad you agree!"

(Make the pun. Make the pun it's the one thing you gotta do each time to stay sane just, make the pun.) "One could say it's a pretty. . ."

". . Uh huh?"

"Tree-mendous tree!" (You say, just like before.)

". . Heh, hehaha! Ha!" (Isabeau laughs, you laugh. This time at least it wasn't as forced but. . . You could still tell he wasn't happy with it. With your whole situation.)

(He doesn't reach for you. Good thing too, you couldn't step back either.)

"Any place you want to be set down, or. . ." (Isa asks)

"Oh uh, just that root over there." (You gesture with a nod. Isa helps you over and sits you down, leaning your back against the tree. He steps back. He was looking at you, his face was full of, pitty? Great, it was pitty.)

"And, you're absolutely, sure?"

"I'm sure, Isa, okay? I promise." (You keep smiling.) "See you after the day's saved, okay?"

". . . Okay, I-I'll, I'll see you. Later. I'll see you later. After we're back."

"You'll do great! Isa! Big buff guy Isabeau! You'll do great!"

"Yeah!!! It'll go great!!" (Isabeau finally smiled back. As forced as it was.)

(He waved, you smiled back, he walked away. You wait untill he's gone. A beat, two, three, four. . .)

(. . .)

(. . . . . . . .)

". . . . Wow Stardust! You've really caused quite the stir!" (And in an instant that familiar voice filled your ears. You turn your head and sure enough, Loop was there. Oh Loop. Reliable, wonderful, annoying as hell. They didnt have a mouth but those eyes were all they needed to grinn.) "You have Isabeau carting you around like royalty! My, lucky you!"

"Loop. . ." (Your breathing gets heavy.)

"Was it all to get more time with me, Stardust? You know you could have just snuck out~"

"Loop I, I can't-" (Your stomach hurts.)

"What, can't move?!?" (Loop huffed, looking away.) "Come on, Stardust! You went back in time! So what if the King snapped your spine, it's fine now!"

"But, it's not-" (Why didn't they believe you?)

"It's fine!! It has to be fine!!" (Their tone changes, angry, or-) "You changed time!! Whatever you did it doesn't matter now!! It gets, turned, back!!"

"THEN WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHING?!?" (You yell, you yell and yell. You yell and cry.) "WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING?!? WHY CAN'T I MOVE?!?! WHY AM I JUST, SO, USELESS?!?!?!"

(Loop doesn't reply. You keep crying, you can't, you can't stop yourself.)

"I can't do anything!! I'm useless!!! A sack of rocks to be hauled around!! I can't do anything by myself, always needing help!!! Do you think I want that?!?"

"I can't move!! I CAN'T MOVE!!!! I can't check for traps!! I can't look for keys!! I can't fight I can't walk I can't eat I can't flip pages of a book I can't do ANYTHING!!!"

"We'll never make it out!!! We're STUCK here!!! AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!!"

(You were sobbing, you couldn't stop. You were stuck here. You couldn't move, you couldn't fight, walk, win, live, do anything. You'd never escape, you'd never get out.)

(You're doomed.)

(It's quiet. You don't know for how long it's quiet for. You sob, unable to stop, eye squeezed closed. Loop doesn't say anything. You hear the wind rustle the leaves of the Favor Tree. You feel the sun on your face.)

(You calm down, taking a few deep breaths, one, two, three, four, five, sex, seven. You're okay, you're fine, you're okay now, you're.)

(You're. Over. It.)

". . . . . . Siffrin, I. . ." (Loops voice. You don't open your eye.) ". . . . I'm sorry."

". . . It's fine."

"No! It's not fine!" (They huff.) "If- since it looks like you really are stuck like this, we need, a new plan."

". . ." (You sigh.)

"You won't be getting anywhere by moping Stardust~" (Loop giggles.) "Who knows! This could be some twisted blessing in disguise!"

"Yeah right. . ." (You roll your eye.)

". . . Well? Are you just going to sit there being sorry for yourself?"

"Sorry, let met just stand up and be sorry somewhere else." (You stick your tongue out.)

"Hah! Hahahaha!!" (Loop laughs, and claps their hands together.) "Well now that you're feeling better, how can I help you out on this wonderful new loop, Stardust?"

[puttersmile]

Crittertember Day 16: Sleeping

Yes have some more Puppylove! And a oneshot to go with it!

When the skies darkened Dogday had a sinking feeling it was too late to leave.  He’d lost track of time and without warning a sudden  thunderstorm rolled in. The thunder rumbled, making Dogday tense up and his tail sag. He had always tried to hide his fear of storms, even though his friends knew. 

Bobby didn’t like it much either, but as the storm intensified and it became clear that Dogday couldn’t leave, she nervously suggested,

 “Why don’t you, uh, stay the night? We could… keep each other company?” Bobby saw the rain pouring in sheets outside her window. “ Like maybe we could–”

“S-sleep together? Like… in the bed? Under the covers? The same bed? The both of us?” Dogday stammered, trying to play dumb to mask his own nervousness. 

Bobby blushed but nodded.. “Yes, in the same bed. We’ll be more comfortable that way, and it’s not like I want to face this storm alone.”

Dogday gulped. “I mean, I can always take the couch…”

Bobby shook her head quickly. “No, really. I’d feel better if you were with me. It’s already late enough as it is.” Bobby genty pulled his hand. "Promise I won't bite."

Dogday couldn’t help but laugh, albeit shyly. “Well, when you put it that way… Okay, I’m in. But fair warning, I might need to hold onto something if the thunder gets too loud.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, feigning nonchalance. “Well, as long as that ‘something’ happens to be me, I think we’ll be just fine.”

She lead him to her room, the storm outside seemed to boom only half as hard as Dogday’s heartbeat. Yet it also made the space feel cozier despite the crackling tension in the air. They settled into bed, a timid excitement bubbling up as they cuddled close. 

Dogday was hyper-aware of her warmth, the scent of her fur, and the steady rhythm of her breathing. It felt right, yet the newness of it all made his pulse race.

Another boom of thunder rolled through, and Dogday instinctively pulled her closer. 

“You weren’t kidding about needing to hold onto something, huh?” Bobby teased.

Dogday smiled sheepishly. “Guess not.” He glanced around, “You know, this is pretty scandalous. What will our friends think?”

Bobby grinned, playing along. “They’ll probably be jealous they’re not getting a warm hug from someone as awesome as me.”

Dogday snickered as he eased his side into one of Bobby’s oversized pillows. “You’re probably right.”

At that moment, Bobby leaned in and began peppering his face and neck with soft kisses, each one sending a thrill through her dog friend, his tail thumping against the blankets wildly. Enraptured by her affection, he managed to joke, 

“H-hey, Bobs! You know, I’m starting to think you wanted the storm to get me into this kind of position!”

Bobby pulled back just enough to smirk at him, her eyes gleaming. “That’s a strong possibility, but I’ll admit nothing.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, the storm outside no longer feeling like a threat but more like a backdrop to this moment.

Bobby broke the silence with a soft voice, “You know, I’ve imagined this… falling asleep with you. It’s nice, even if I didn’t picture the thunder.”

Dogday’s heart swelled, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Me too. And I don’t care about the thunder as long as you’re here.”

Bobby giggled. “It can’t hurt you as long as I’m around.”

Dogday yawned. “My hero.”

Bobby smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her that had nothing to do with the blankets wrapped around them. “Well, in that case, I guess we’ll have to make this a regular thing.”

Dogday chuckled, the sound soft and comforting as he started drifting into sleep. Finally his tail rested.

“I wouldn’t mind that at all.”

AN: I doggedly continue making Crittertember art. They should be under the blankets but I drew them first and didn't want to erase half their body lol.

[pendarling]

Curly & Dark

Hero lightly brushed their fingers against the tight curls and looked at their reflection.

"Oh, didn't you know? Villain likes looser and longer hair so..."

They were in shambles, and they hated to admit it. They didn't like their enemy, no, only offended that anyone could assume that at all. Especially their friend; why did they say that? Nothing was wrong with their curls, at least nothing they could think of. Who cares if Villain likes lighter skin and eyes?

That had nothing to do with them, and who told their friend what Villain preferred? They could be lying. Villain always lied.

Not to them, of course, or at least Hero hoped so. Villain was very careful with their words when they whispered sweet poems in their ear when they got too close for comfort in their hand-to-hand combats. Villain's eyes didn't lie when they stared longingly back at Hero; their body gave away their feelings. Hero knew it all too well and was confident that Villain couldn't care less about their dumb curls or their skin.

It didn't matter. It shouldn't matter. It's a stupid claim, but it still hurts.

Hero's breathing quickened as they frowned deeply at themselves through the mirror with fingers caught up in the strands of hair and oh...

Hero thought, 'What a strange appearance. None of my peers look the way I do.' They huffed and walked slowly out of the bathroom, 'That should be a good thing. I stand out.'

It didn't feel good, however. Their head replayed the scene from earlier again.

Hero stood in front of their friend, and their friend smiled at them when they said it, trying to let them know kindly of the situation. They cared and didn't want Hero's heart to be broken when it would be revealed that Villain was just bullying them afterall.

"They have bad intentions; we all know Villain doesn't like curly hair, so it doesn't make sense... you're suit... yeah, that's probably why they said all that. If you wore something else, it would've been different."

Hero's suit now lay on their bed; they've worn it for years and never thought it played a part in their world. Was it too revealing? Inappropriate? Hero liked it; it was created to accommodate Hero's powers. They didn't think of it as anything else, but assuming it was attracting the wrong kind of attention, Hero was willing to wear something new.

They couldn't stop thinking all night after earlier. The next time they saw Villain, they should start ignoring them. Whatever Villain was up to was too cruel. If they hated someone that looked like them, then they should stop interacting completely.

At least that's what they told themselves to do, but still, Hero found themselves taking up another job that would require them to see Villain again.

They sat waiting on the ledge of their usual meeting spot on the roof of a building far from home. Any second now, they'd hear Villain's voice call their name with a ring in it that made their heart skip.

"There you are."

Hero sat up straighter and turned around. "Hi." Hero shyly spoke. It was less confident than they anticipated. Their hands immediately went to touch their hair again; the messy thing always got in the way, and they had taken the time to flat-iron it that morning before showing up. They couldn't remember the last time they straightened their hair; it's been a while, and they accidentally burned their ear with the hot rod in their haste to get it done as quickly as possible as if the curls were a disease.

"You look different," Villain noted, widely smiling as they set their gaze on them.

They swallowed their nervousness and stood up. "Uhm.. yeah, thought I could use a change."

"Looks good."

Hero wanted to ask if it was true. Still, something forced their tongue down even when silence fell into their conversation, where they'd usually idly chat for a good few more minutes before getting into their usual spar.

Villain's hand reached for their belt and pulled out the hilt of their sword. "May I have this dance?" They stepped closer and aimed at them, waiting for a response.

"Try to keep up this time." Hero's hand glowed a shallow colour, just enough to get them riled up.

They fought bravely as usual, each blow heavier than the last, quicker and matching Villain's attacks.

Their smile persisted throughout the entire duration. Hero dodged Villain's sword and slashed at the air with a sharp flick of their wrist. A thin line of energy burst from their hands, and the Villain deflected it with their sword.

Hero took another step back, catching the blade with their hand and twisting it away from their body, unaware that they'd run out of places to move as they felt their back pressed against a wall.

"So quick to lose," Villain smirked as they panted hard from their chest and out. Hero could feel their body buzzing with excitement; although some doubts still lingered, it was all irrelevant at this moment. "Or did you want me to corner you like this?"

"Don't get ahead of yourself." Hero breathed heavily, all too happy for their liking. They could feel the heat on their face, hotter than it was supposed to be after hardly fighting.

When Villain stepped closer, Hero felt their smile falter a bit. An unreasonable fear consumed their head as they repressed the feeling of touching their hair again. "Ever wonder," Villain began, "What it would be like outside the mask?" Their head tilted slightly with that same crooked smile they'd grown so used to.

"No..." Hero whispered, "There's nothing interesting."

Villain laughed lightly, "Not even yourself?" They leaned down closer, their fingers tapping at the hilt of their sword while Hero's sweating palms rubbed the rough brick behind them, memorizing every crevice.

"Not even myself." Their eyes flickered downward, then back up again, "And you?"

"I have lots to offer." They casually answered.

Hero rolled their eyes, "Sure you do."

They heard them huff and mock a shocked expression. "You're questioning me?" Villain placed a hand on their chest. "I have what you could only dream of-- what you couldn't comprehend."

"Like what?" Hero pressed.

The criminal shrugged and crossed their arms, "Nice try, but I'm selective about who I choose to tell."

'Selective.' Hero reiterated in their head and licked their lips; the feeling that tormented them the other night returned. Itching up their throat and successfully stopping Hero from pursuing the conversation any further.

"You're awfully quiet," Villain remarked and moved back from them slowly, their eyes analyzing the way Hero stood almost slumped up against the wall. "Usually, you're so much more hot-headed."

"You like hot-headed?" Hero quickly snapped. It came out more disgruntled than they wanted. Hero didn't know what overcame them; what was supposed to be a good sensation had burned into a simmering hatred for this strange relationship they had. Hero took a deep breath, their brows furrowed as they stared at their shoes and tried to stop themselves before it was too late.

"Relax." Villain's voice cut through their head. "I just wanted you to know that you're acting out of character."

Hero didn't even bother this time and felt their hands grasping at the air before they could understand. Each fist went flying at Villain, aiming to hit as hard as possible.

Villain played defence, avoiding each one of their punches with swift movements and slight turns. "What's the matter, Hero? I think you've gotten--"

"Shut up!" Their first, burning a bright array of white and yellow, shoved into the metal frame of a nearby door; the ground cracked beneath them upon impact, and Villain stumbled as they went behind Hero with that same obnoxious laughter.

Villain's brows raised, impressed as they whistled at the scene, "Careful, that could break your hand."

"I said stop talking to me!" Hero went to hit them again, throwing enough of their energy to tear Villain's sword away from their hands when they went to deflect again.

Hero never got Villain's weapon away from them before. It surprised them how much they could do, and the surprise made them nearly trip if Villain hadn't caught them just in time. Their powers faded slowly as Hero's emotions dropped back down again. Something about being held so closely has thrown them out of focus.

"I said be careful didn't I?" They softly uttered. Hero's heartbeat fell back into its strange rhythm as usual, a different kind of beat that played a romantic song in their head and repeated itself for weeks. It was then that they grew keenly aware where Villain's hand were placed, so neatly on each side of their waist and so gentle with them. Hero's eyes blinked with confusion until they buried their head into Villain's chest.

"Sorry." They muffled the apology, still holding tears back.

"It's okay." Villain's hands grasped at their suit, slightly tugging at its edges.

They shook their head, "No, it's not." Their lips trembled, and a few drops of tears escaped them as their mind muddled in the confusion of being torn between truth and agonizing desperation. They couldn't stop themselves from saying what they hoped they could hide, "Do you like curly?" Hero heard themselves whisper, wishing they had more control over what they said when Villain didn't respond right away.

Villain's fingers paused. "What? Your hair?"

Hero could only nod, too afraid that the next time they spoke, they would start sobbing uncontrollably.

"I like curly." They murmured. "I like curly... and I like dark." Villain moved one hand to their back, rotating up and down. "Is that what's bothering you?"

Hero sniffled, feeling silly more than ever. "It isn't just teasing then." They said, more to themselves than to their enemy. They smiled under them, their knuckles still stung from the last hit, but that was behind Hero now.

They briefly stood in silence until Villain questioned them again. "Who told you I didn't like it?"

Hero cleared their throat. "A friend."

"Friend?" They stretched the word, sounding more startled as Villain worked through a list of names they'd seen Hero with before. "Which one?"

"The one with blond hair." They answered slowly.

"Hero." They called.

They lifted their head, eyes still foggy. "Yeah?"

"Do me a favour," Villain's thumb came to wipe their tear, "and don't listen to them."

~~~

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[writeriguess]

hello! i love your works thank you for that 🙂‍↕️

can you do pro!hero dynamite and reader whose also a pro!hero but they’re undercover so he doesn’t know? can be angsty fluff i just live for a good spy moment 💕

The city was a mess, crumbling beneath the weight of a villainous plot threatening to blow apart the fragile peace. Katsuki Bakugou, or as the world knew him, Dynamight, stomped through the broken streets, his eyes sharp as flint. Every crackle of his palms sent up tiny sparks, a reflection of the restless anger simmering within.

He didn’t like it—this mission. Not the fact that the villain had slipped through his fingers, nor that he was now working with a partner he didn’t know. The person had shown up out of nowhere, masked, with no name, only a vague promise that they were on his side. The Commission said they were a pro hero, but Katsuki wasn’t so easily convinced.

Where the hell were they? He scowled, kicking a broken piece of pavement out of his way.

“You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer if you keep that up, Dynamight.”

His head snapped to the side, eyes narrowing at the figure who appeared out of the shadows like they belonged there. A sleek black outfit, tactical and form-fitting, clung to their body—nothing about them screamed ‘hero.’ They were dressed more like a villain. The only thing that set them apart was the small emblem on their arm, hidden in the folds of their gear.

“Where’ve you been?” he growled. “I don’t have time for games.”

“I wasn’t playing,” they replied coolly, pulling down the mask just enough to smirk. “I was gathering intel. Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

Bakugou’s scowl deepened. “Tch, don’t act smart with me. If we don’t find this bastard, the whole city’s gonna burn.”

“Funny, coming from you,” they teased, falling into step beside him.

He shot them a sharp glance but said nothing more. They weren’t wrong. His hands were practically itching to blow something up, and that wasn’t helping the tension in his shoulders. He needed to stay focused. For the mission.

The two moved through the city in silence, their pace quick as they made their way toward the villain’s last known location. All the while, Bakugou couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about this person. They moved too smoothly, too confidently, like they already knew the lay of the land. And when they fought, it wasn’t just with skill but with a kind of familiarity that made him pause.

It wasn’t until they reached the hideout, tucked away in the decaying underbelly of the city, that Bakugou’s suspicions flared. The villain was there, surrounded by henchmen, but the way his partner tensed beside him, the way their breath hitched ever so slightly—

It was as if they recognized him.

“Knew you’d show up,” the villain sneered, eyes gleaming with malice. “But didn’t think you’d bring her.”

Bakugou’s heart stopped.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he snapped, glancing at his partner. They were frozen, their mask pulled low over their face, but something in the air shifted.

The villain laughed, dark and amused. “Oh, this is rich. She didn’t tell you, did she? Your partner here isn’t just some random hero. She’s been working undercover. Bet you didn’t even know she was right under your nose.”

“What—”

Before he could process what was happening, his partner ripped off their mask, revealing your face—someone Bakugou had known for years, fought beside countless times, trusted more than anyone else. But here you were, dressed in a disguise, with secrets between you so thick he could barely breathe.

“You…” Bakugou’s voice was hoarse, strangled. “You’ve been… what the hell is going on?!”

Your eyes met his, regret flickering there, but determination too. “I couldn’t tell you, Katsuki. It wasn’t safe.”

“Wasn’t safe?” His voice cracked with barely restrained fury. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time! I thought—”

“I didn’t have a choice!” you interrupted, stepping toward him. “If you knew, if anyone knew, the mission would’ve been compromised. I was trying to keep you safe.”

The air between you was thick, volatile. The villain’s laughter echoed around you, but neither of you heard it.

“You were supposed to trust me!” Bakugou spat, his hands clenching into fists. “You should’ve—”

“I did,” you whispered. “I always did. But sometimes… sometimes you can’t let someone in. Not when the stakes are this high.”

Bakugou’s breath hitched, his anger warring with the pain that stabbed through his chest. You were right in front of him, yet you’d felt a world away. All this time, you’d been fighting the same battle, but from the shadows, while he’d been left in the dark.

“We’ll talk after,” you said, your voice softer now. “Right now, we’ve got a job to do.”

Bakugou’s jaw tightened, but he gave a small nod. The mission came first, as much as it burned. Together, you turned to face the villain, the silent understanding between you an unspoken promise that this wasn’t over.

The fight was brutal. Explosions rocked the hideout as Bakugou unleashed his rage, while you moved with practiced precision, striking with lethal efficiency. But through it all, Bakugou couldn’t stop glancing at you—at the familiar way you fought, the way your eyes flashed with the same fire that burned in his.

When the dust finally settled, the villain was subdued, his threats silenced, and the city saved once more. But the silence that followed was deafening.

Bakugou turned to you, his chest heaving. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You sighed, exhaustion weighing down your limbs. “Because I knew you’d try to stop me. And I couldn’t let you do that.”

He ran a hand through his ash-blonde hair, frustration etched into every line of his body. “You’re a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

You smiled, tired but genuine. “Yeah, but you still care.”

He scowled, but it lacked the usual heat. “Shut up.”

Stepping closer, you placed a hand on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way nothing else could. “I’m sorry, Katsuki. I didn’t want to lie to you. But I had to.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, eyes scanning your face like he was seeing you for the first time. And maybe, in a way, he was. You were the same person, but you’d been carrying a weight he hadn’t seen.

Finally, he sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Just… don’t do it again. Or I’ll kill you.”

You laughed, the sound light despite the tension. “Deal.”

And though there were still things left unsaid, for now, you had each other. That was enough.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[bbyangyl]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— EASE YOUR MIND- DEKU | IZUKU MIDORIYA

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— description: after inviting you to an event, izuku has a difficult time deciding if "a date" would be the right term to use.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— w.c: 2.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— tags: sfw (however, my blog isn't!), fluff, very soft, deku is basically in love with you but overthinks like CRAZY

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— a/n: here's something that has been sitting in my drafts for a while now. I actually have a lot written so you'll be seeing a lot from me soon :) I just need time to edit a few things. please stay tuned!

deku was sweating

he was sweating so much that his palms felt drenched, struggling to discreetly wipe them against his pants, hoping you wouldn’t notice. you walked beside him, wearing a smile that outshined the sun.

he doesn’t know how he got here, with you. the only thing he could recall from the events of his spiraling and panicking brain when he asked if you wanted to go with him to a “history of heroes” event, where he scored two tickets for, were your bright, excited eyes and lovely smile when you agreed to go with him.

and then, he was sure he messed it all up when, for some reason, his mouth moved faster than his brain and said “I’m so glad! It’s a date then”

he didn’t mean for the words to be heard aloud. and through his stammering voice and flushed cheeks, he tried so hard to make an excuse; to distract you from the fact that he just called it a date. which meant he asked you out on a date.

but instead of gazing at him in confusion or uncertainty, (or worse, disgust), you simply giggled, nodding as you gathered your belongings before heading out to the dorms.

“it’s a date” you said, walking away from his frozen figure that decided to stay in place on its own accord, processing the three words you repeated back to him.

you said yes, despite him calling it a date, but did you really consider it a date? or did you know he accidentally called it that and you just went along with it, even though he truly did want to go on a date with you. but he never thought you’d ever go on a date with him. and even if he intentionally asked you out, he wasn’t sure a first date with you to a hero event was good enough. You seemed excited for it, should he plan something else?

as he looked up at your retreating figure, he noticed the way you look back at him, with soft eyes and a pretty smile before turning around, continuing to walk away.

he felt his brain short circuit, as you leave him with nothing but blooming red cheeks, shaky legs, and thoughts of you.

as the day of the event arrives, after thirty minutes spent rehearing how to approach you and what words to say, a soft knock unexpectedly echoes on his own door, before being opened slightly.

and he begins to sweat.

there you were, in a cute sundress, looking at him with such a sweet expression on your face. he felt his hands slightly trembling, his heart practically soaring through the air in a fluttering mess. he felt like a fish, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say. anything at all! at least a hello.

he didn’t trust himself, however. deku had a tendency to ramble and mumble, and he had an small feeling that a simple ‘hello’ would turn into ‘you’re the most beautiful girl in the world’, or something more than he was ready to admit

it was difficult to form words anyways, when just the sight of you is enough to leave him breathless, unable to think about anything else but the fact that you were here, ready to go out with him…

to an event that he had called a date, and you seemed happy to agree...

he felt his face burn, and one part of him believed that the temperature could’ve rivaled todoroki’s quirk.

“hey! I’m sorry if I interrupted you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready! If you’d like I can wait in the common area while you’re done.” you say, playing with the straps of your backpack.

he laughs nervously. “o-okay, yeah. I just need to grab a few things and we can head out” he feels his voice get shaky towards the end, and quickly he turns around, flustered, as he pretends to try and find something on top of his bed.

he hears a small laugh from you, before announcing you’ll be waiting for him over there. as your footsteps indicate you walking away, deku immediately lets out the tremulous breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

the thought of being around you, without the confirmation of what this “outing” was considered to be, caused his nerves to skyrocket. he hated second-guessing, and couldn’t bear the embarrassment he would feel if he treated today as a date, only to find out you thought he was joking, or vise versa.

despite the inner conflicts in his overworking mind, he, at least, was certain of one thing. he invited you and you said yes, and you were now waiting for him in the common area.

with a small, unsteady sigh, he starts to relax a bit. everything will be fine. he’ll take you to the event, and you’ll both have an amazing time, free from his overthinking.

at least, that was the plan.

it’s a bit easier said than done, especially in this circumstance, where his mind is on endless overdrive, hanging out with a girl who practically hung the stars in his eyes.

he felt awkward, realizing that not a single word had been exchanged between the two of you since leaving the dorms. he tried to think of something to say, but the probability of stumbling over his words as he tried to start conversation was unfortunately high.

each step he took felt unnatural, as if every movement was a forced effort, desperately trying to match the light, effortless way you walked beside him toward the museum.

it only made things more complicated when deku realized he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you; it was too overwhelming. but the brief glances he stole, seeing you smile softly as you took in your surroundings, only made the fluttering in his heart grow stronger.

he was sweating

but luckily for him, you were the one to break the ice.

“y’know, I’m actually a bit shocked you invited me out, midoriya” you say softly, glancing at the ground with a small smile on your face. deku turns to you, feeling his hands trembling against his side, wondering if you’ll bring up his embarrassing ‘it’s a date’ declaration.

“what…uhm…what do you mean?” he asks, feeling his voice crack. immediately he feels his face grow hot, watching as you glance at him with a small laugh, no trace of teasing, just amusement.

“it’s just, we’re friends, obviously-“ you begin to clarify, and he can’t help but feel his heart drop slightly, despite that being the facts. “but…I don’t know, you were always so close with ochako, iida, todoroki and our other classmates. we don’t interact as much.”

it was the truth. deku never had much trouble talking or hanging out with his classmates. he was extremely close with a few and, at the very least, felt comfortable around all of them, even with bakugo. deku was proud of how far he had come from his middle school days, now able to talk freely and be himself. he felt lucky. but with you, things were slightly different.

he always caught himself rehearsing what to say before starting a conversation. he’d stumble over his words, his face flushing red during any interaction. just a glance in your direction was enough to turn him to mush. in some ways, you made him feel like his middle school self again; timid and nervous. but the reasonings couldn’t be more different.

“I actually wanted to get closer to you, but funny enough I was always kinda shy around you.” suddenly, he halts any movement. did that come from him? that wasn’t his voice. his eyes widen as he realizes that came from you. shy? around him? really?

“what?!” It was difficult to wrap his head around the fact. all this time he was so focused on how to interact normally with you, never once did he take the time to analyze any interaction you had with him and deem it as shy. you were always so happy and kind, and anyone with eyes could see how much he fumbled through the smallest of conversations with you. the thought that maybe you were also shy around him too, made his heart skip a beat.

he watched as you turn to him, cheeks blooming a pretty pink, like the petals of a cherry blossom fluttering through the air. “yeah…i mean…we talked every now and then. not as often, but you were always so kind despite our limited conversations. I never really reached out to you because I was always a little nervous around you, unable to get a clear picture of how you felt about me.”

you take a small step forward, and he immediately notices the slight hesitation in your movement, as if there was more you wanted to say but weren’t sure if you should. he catches the way you try to meet his gaze but become a little flustered, and how your fingers fidget with the straps of your book bag.

deku had always been so perceptive; picking up on body language and mannerisms with ease. but he never realized how similar the two of you were in your interactions. he was always focused on not looking like a fool in front of you; a blushing mess. Yet now, seeing the flustered look in your eyes instead, he felt himself melt on the spot, fighting the urge to kiss your cheeks.

“when you invited me to the hero event, I couldn’t help but feel happy! and…I felt over the moon when you called it a date. even if you didn’t mean to call it that l-“ you pause, before giving him a gentle smile “-it still made me very happy.”

he gazes at you, momentarily questioning if his mind is deceiving him, conjuring up a hopeful illusion. but as he watches you nervously bite your lip, awaiting his response, the reality of the moment sinks in. he feels his heart flutter in his chest, and the weight of your words sends a shiver through his entire body. “you wanted it to be a date?”

“Is it weird if I said more than anything?” you confess, shyly looking at the ground with uncertainty and anxiousness. he feels himself physically vibrate with excitement, hearts practically forming in his eyes as he steps closer, unable to hold back the confession on the tip of his tongue.

“I-I want that too! I want this to be considered an actual date!” he exclaims with happiness pouring out of his soul, feeling his cheeks become slightly sore from his smile. you look up at him, a shocked expression on your face as you slowly process his words. he watches in time the way your features soften, beautiful eyes widening slightly as you let out a gentle gasp.

“really?” you ask, as he feels the joy practically radiating off of you. deku nods in confirmation, hands trembling from overwhelming delight. he meets your gently gaze, as you both stare at each other with bashful grins before a small laugh escapes your lips, followed by a domino effect of uncontainable giggles between you and him.

he feels lighter, almost euphoric; his entire body buzzing with warmth that radiates from his flushed cheeks, offering a new kind of comfort he’d never known before. he was always used to feel shy around you, his heart brimming with so much love and admiration that he could barely meet your gaze. but now, that love has multiplied, and all he wants is to lose himself in your eyes for as long as you’ll let him.

you step to the side, offering him one last smile before the two of you begin to walk in sync. it no longer feels out of place. just right.

“can I hold your hand?” he asks, a hint of the familiar shyness still laced in his words. but this time, there’s a newfound confidence beneath it. he’s certain you feel it too as you beam at him, gently intertwining your soft fingers with his calloused, scarred hand.

“you know…I…all this time, I was kinda freaking out! I didn’t know if this was actually a date or not, and I was extremely nervous this whole time. I’m sorry if things were a little awkward when we left the dorms” you look at him with reassurance; an amused giggle leaving your lips as you shake your head.

“please don’t apologize. I couldn’t even tell!”

[tr1nd2de]

Justice League & Captain Marvel

I was watching some fanfics about Captain Marvel with the league, and I thought what if the captain didn't lie to them?.

Usually this situation between the league and the captain is portrayed in a way where the captain lies to the league.

but what if it was the other way around, what if he decided to tell the truth or at least part of it.

In another end of the league meeting, and in another normal conversation about family and personal life.

Superman: Jon is doing well on the Titans, and is behaving himself after running away on a mission with Damien. Speaking of which, how is your son Bruce?

Batman: As always, not seeing the problem with this, he thinks he executed the mission very well, with some setbacks. But in the midst of all this trouble I'm happy that he's making friends.

Flash: My nephew Wally is doing very well at the science fair and is getting faster and faster, one day he will pass me, but what about you J'onn, how is your niece?

Martian Manhunter: She's doing well, her relationship with Conner is helping her adapt to Earth. But what about you, captain? Is there anything interesting happening in your life?.

Captain Marvel: Oh not really, my best friend has a family now so I'm just kind of lonely.

Green Arrow: Your best friend? You never told us you had a best friend. I mean, you never tell us anything about yourself.

Captain Marvel: I don't say anything about my life because there's nothing interesting to tell.

Green Arrow: Are you sure? Could you tell us where you live?

Captain Marvel: I don't have a house, I live on the streets actually.

wonder woman: on the streets!?, Where do you sleep then, I mean do you need to sleep?

Captain Marvel: I usually sleep in some abandoned building, when I'm not in a building I'm on the Rock. And no, I don't need to sleep, but I like to feel human.

Flash: Wait, do you at least have a job?

Captain Marvel: No, for a long time it was because I wasn't old enough for it, then it was because I had no education, then came the powers and wisdom of Solomon. Finally I could have a job since I know a lot of things now, but I don't wear a mask so it wouldn't work. But hey, the work of a hero and champion doesn't stop so I'm fine.

Aquaman: So you don't have a job or a home, Captain, do you have a family?

Captain Marvel: They died in an accident at work, my father, my mother and sister, they all died I'm only here because at the time my grades were bad and I got sick. I was left with my uncle who stole my parents' inheritance and threw me out onto the streets.

So I went from foster home to foster home, one worse than the other, then I ran away and lived on the streets for a long time, then I started the wizard and he gave me his powers... the end.

Captain Marvel: Anyway, I'm going to Fawcett now, my life story has been told and your curiosities have been satisfied. Have a good day.

Flash: Fuck...

[bomber-grl]

Peter Parker Dating hc 🕸️

Pairing(s):Peter Parker (Tom hollands)x Gn!Reader (both civilian and superhero included)

As a civilian you were probably unaware of his secret identity for a good awhile

Until you inevitably found out and began dating

How you found out well, well let’s just say it wasn’t ideal

You had been friends for awhile and the only way Peter would ever let you near him or his room (while having a crush on you) would be if he forgot something at your house or something

So you knocked and May let you know he wasn’t there but still let you in

I mean she wasn’t just gonna let you stand outside waiting for him, if anything he was to blame for not being responsible about the time you two established for meeting up

Queue you walking into his room and he’s half suited up and the both of you are just staring at eachother

That interaction led to some discourse, obviously

But after the initial shock you (surprisingly) moved on

Now if you’re a superhero working for stark for some reason then you met that way and there’s no secret identity reveal

Tbh the two of you have to have something in common

Whether its interests in comics or “nerd” stuff

something had to have led to the two of you getting together

Or maybe you’re just into easily flustered, needy men, who knows 🤷‍♀️

Like if you’re a hero then you met that way and share that in common (including tech if you’re into that)

So just imagine Peter, whose very nervous/ excited, just absolutely rambling about some interest that was briefly mentioned and that you both shared

The thing is, you’re on a date right now and he’s absolutely embarrassing himself (in his opinion)

He’d try to plan everything to perfection and gift you what he can even if he feels it might pale to what you’re used to (if you’re wealthy)

Your first date was especially memorable since not only did he display his nervousness so obviously but it was as if the universe couldn’t let his plan run smoothly

He had tripped, stuttered, made too many mistakes to count, just a piece of work all in all

To you though? It was endearing

He had wanted your first date to be the upmost perfection, even if it wasn’t an average persons “ideal” by the end-

It didn’t matter because you could tell the genuine affection he had for you so much so that he had planned this all, and unfortunately (for him) embarrassed himself beyond return in front of you

“Kill me now”

- Peter probably

He doesn’t really seem like it, if anything he seems pretty self actualized but there’s obviously moments where he feels a bit sorry (?) for the lack of a better word

He’s just always clumsy, and getting flustered easily

Especially around you

So although he might think that you probably think less than ideally of him, he couldn’t be more wrong

If anything it adds to his charm and anything he does is pretty endearing

So when you decide to share such words with Peter while you’re chilling in his room

Well, he’s floored

He thanks you but then that spirals into him stuttering and tripping over himself

Despite the fact that you complimented him to not only ease his worries but also to just let him know-

He’s groveling (exaggeration) and apologizing for, again, being himself…

Blud needs to chill out…

Usually after missions or whatever they’re called- Peter usually has minor injuries or cuts

How do you know this? You’re his main source of comfort so he’s sneak in through your window into your room as often as he can

A particular moment was when you both decided to have a sleep over at your house

It was definitely a huge progress in your relationship but you should’ve known better

While you were asleep, he snuck off and att the end of his little escapade, he snuck back in

Only thing is that he returned back through the window he snuck out from just to be met with the lights on

He visibly sunk at your disappointed gaze once he noticed you up

He isn’t in the best state so you take it easy on him and just go rummaging through your cabinets- you hoped to have something for his wounds around there somewhere

As you’re searching, Peter has taken it upon himself to convince you his injuries are nothing, just go back to bed, and is just overall downplaying his condition

You pause and just stare at him

Obviously he’s taken by surprise but he realizes he can’t do anything to stop you and just lets you continue

Even while your cleaning his wounds or bandaging him up he’s making jokes about the situation

Well maybe not jokes but we all know how rambly he gets when he’s nervous

Somehow digging himself a grave right there

On that same page

We’re all aware of how difficult it is for Peter to balance his civilian and superhero life

I’m not up for debate- it might as well be canon

He’s always having to leave school for superhero work in which it has consequences or he leaves superhero work and still has consequences in the franchise so respectfully: 🤫🤐)

Peter tries super hard to be there and include you in what’s going on but sometimes he needs to cancel or leave hang outs abruptly

You understand this obviously but it’s still upsetting, not as much if you’re a superhero id imagine

But yknow

Still annoying asf

You don’t give him hell for it even if you want to because either 1. You do the same thing (superhero) 2. He can’t help it and he already gets enough shit

He’s also super protective

Especially if you’re a civilian

It’s sort of endearing/ annoying- somehow both simultaneously

Now if you’re a hero/ avenger then you both understand things about your secret identities

Particularly about hiding them

Yknow how Ned would always help Peter out? Well you and Peter do that for eachother

If u have family or others who aren’t aware like friends- Peter has your back and vice versa

It’s just the price you need to pay

Especially since it’s not easy balancing lives

[entwinedmoon]

Cold Boys and Cannibalism

With today’s news concerning the identification of James Fitzjames’s remains—and the fact that those remains show signs of cannibalism—I have been thinking a lot about how those final, desperate days of the Franklin Expedition went down. But I’ve been thinking about those days in a particular light, one influenced by another special interest of mine: the Andes flight disaster.

The Andes flight disaster—aka the crash of the Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571, aka That Time In 1972 When A Uruguayan Rugby Team Was On A Plane That Crashed Into The Andes And They Had To Eat Their Dead Friends In Order To Survive—has long been a casual interest of mine. But earlier this year I watched the movie Society of the Snow, based on the book by the same name, and that kicked this interest into a full-blown hyper-fixation. I’ve been reading every book about it I can get my hands on, and I’m constantly trying to steer conversations towards mentioning it (“It’s a cold night tonight…but not nearly as cold as what the survivors of the Fairchild 571 had to endure on that mountain…”).

The Andes flight disaster has several similarities with the Franklin Expedition. They were stranded in the middle of nowhere, they had to endure freezing temperatures, and when the food ran out, they resorted to eating the flesh of their dead companions. There are also some major differences, of course, such as the Franklin Expedition being a purposeful exercise in exploration whereas the Andes flight disaster was an accident, and instead of highly trained members of the Royal Navy who followed a strict chain of command, the passengers on the F-571 were mostly pampered, upper-class, well-educated men in their late teens to mid-twenties, along with some friends and family, and there wasn’t an obvious leader or authority after the crash. But one of the main differences is that, unlike the Franklin Expedition, there were survivors of the Andes flight disaster.

Sixteen men survived 72 days on top of a mountain in the Andes, suffering through brutal temperatures, altitude sickness, starvation, an avalanche, and watching their close friends—and sometimes even their family—die. They were only saved when two of those survivors—Nando Parrado and Roberto Canessa—hiked ten days through the Andes to get help. When they were found, no one could believe it. These men had been written off as dead shortly after the crash. Despite only 16 out of 45 people making it out alive, their survival was hailed as a miracle. When they returned to Uruguay, they were treated like heroes.

Unfortunately, some members of the press were far more interested in painting these survivors as deranged savages. The rescue team had leaked photographs showing partially eaten body parts strewn around the wrecked airplane where the men had taken shelter. However, during a press conference on their return home, the survivors did not shy away from the truth. They admitted that they had only survived thanks to eating the flesh of those who had died. One of the survivors, Pancho Delgado, compared their eating of human flesh for physical salvation to the eating of Christ’s body for spiritual salvation. The largely Catholic country of Uruguay embraced this comparison.

The book Alive, written by Piers Paul Read using extensive interviews with the survivors taken shortly after their rescue, goes into some detail about the cannibalism that took place. It is not a book for the faint of heart. But even though the survivors have been very open about what they did, they still have attempted to distance themselves from this ultimate taboo by insisting that what they did wasn’t technically cannibalism but “anthropophagy.” Anthropophagy is the eating of human flesh, which the Andes survivors certainly did engage in, but they also very much did cannibalism. Survival cannibalism is the consumption of a member of your own species in order to survive, which is exactly what happened in the Andes—and what happened in the Arctic with the Franklin Expedition.

Every book about the Andes flight disaster—Alive, Society of the Snow, and the several memoirs written by the survivors (14 of whom are still alive today)—all tell of the moment when the survivors decided they would eat the dead in order to live. Around the tenth day, after an agonizing and disappointing wait for someone to find them, several of the survivors spoke up. They had all been holding out hope that they would be rescued—their small food supply, mostly made up of snacks, candy, and alcohol, dwindling rapidly despite strict rationing—but it had become painfully clear that there would be no rescuers. No one was coming for them. And they had no food. They could only survive if they walked out, but they could only do that if they had the strength to do so. They needed to eat. There was only one way.

Some of the people who had survived the crash resisted the idea, while others fully supported it. Many put forth arguments for or against. Some said that they had a moral obligation to stay alive, and letting themselves die was wrong. Roberto Canessa, one of the two men who would later walk through the mountains to find help, was a nineteen-year-old medical student, and he emphasized the scientific side of things, explaining how they needed proteins to survive or their bodies would begin to break down. The religious explanation later used by Pancho Delgado at the press conference was actually first mentioned by one of the other survivors on that fateful day, Pedro Algorta.

I’m currently reading Algorta’s memoir, Into the Mountains. Early on in the book he too discusses that meeting of the survivors wherein they made the decision to eat the dead. He mentions the religious argument he had used. But he goes on to say that argument was merely an excuse and not the true reason he had supported cannibalizing the victims of the crash. He said that it was the emptiness of his stomach that had persuaded him. As he put it, “I was hungry and I wanted to live.”

When I read that line, my mind immediately went to the scene in AMC’s The Terror, where Lt. Hodgson spoke to Goodsir, telling him a story from his childhood about how he had once taken communion with his Catholic aunts, connecting it with the cannibalism Hodgson and Hickey’s mutineers had committed. He ended his speech with almost the exact same words used by Pedro Algorta, “I’m hungry and I want to live.”

I’m not sure if the Andes flight disaster influenced any aspect of this scene or not, but that sentiment shared by both the real-life Pedro Algorta and the fictionalized version of Lt. Hodgson is something vital to note when it comes to thinking about the cannibalism committed both by the Andes survivors and the Franklin Expedition.

Sure, it was around the tenth day in the Andes that they first cut into the body of someone they had once called a friend. But many of the survivors had already been thinking about eating the bodies for days. Nando Parrado, after waking up from a three-day coma to discover his mother had died in the crash and his sister was dying from severe internal injuries, was determined to walk out of the mountains to see his father again, even if it was the last thing he did. One day he was talking to fellow survivor Carlitos Páez about how they had run out of food. Nando told him he would not give in without a fight, and that if he had to, he would eat the pilot. Many others had similar thoughts, some keeping it to themselves while others discussed it among small groups of trusted friends. That conversation on the tenth day was merely a formality—they had already realized there was only one way to survive.

When it comes to the Franklin Expedition, we don’t know how that decision was made. When Fitzjames died, how long had the men around him been starving, their stomachs aching with hunger? Did the fading vestiges of the Royal Navy chain of command hold them back at all before they finally gave in to their bodies’ demands? Fitzjames was captain of the Erebus and third in command of the expedition. When Franklin died, he became second in command. There may very well have been an instance in which he became the leader of the expedition itself, depending on when Captain Crozier succumbed to the inevitable. Did his men see him as their captain still, or as merely a body, the man he was long gone and his flesh nothing more than something that could be used to prolong their own lives, same as how the Andes survivors saw the bodies of their dead friends?

As I mentioned before, the Andes survivors didn’t really have a firm authority figure. The pilot and co-pilot of the plane died in the crash, and none of them had really known those men, so they held no feelings of friendship or kind sentiment towards them. However, the rugby players did have a team captain, Marcelo Pérez del Castillo. Not everyone on board the flight was a rugby player—some were just friends or relatives of the players, others were only distantly connected and had just wanted a cheap ticket to visit Chile for a few days—but those who knew Marcelo respected him. Marcelo survived the crash but died in an avalanche that occurred sixteen days afterwards, killing eight of the survivors. The avalanche buried the plane, and the survivors were stuck inside for three days before they dug their way out. During those three days, they were cut off from the bodies of those who had died in the crash. With no other option, they were forced to feed on the eight who had died in the avalanche.

The survivors don’t like to specify which bodies they ate, out of respect for the families of those who died, but we know at least some of those who died in the avalanche were consumed. Marcelo may have been one of them. Even though he had once been the leader of the team and a friend of many of the survivors, his friends had no choice but to do what they needed to survive. And during that conversation on the tenth day, those who were still alive had vowed that their bodies could be used by the others for food if they passed away first. Marcelo had known what his body would be used for, and he had offered it up so that his friends could live.

Had Fitzjames done something similar? In AMC’s The Terror, there is a scene where he tells Crozier to give his body to the men, but that’s a fictional version of what happened. We don’t know what really happened to him, or to most of the Franklin Expedition. But it’s possible he did offer himself up, that he knew he could still be of some use even after his death. The Andes flight disaster shows us the extremes people will go to in order to survive—but also, it shows us the compassion and selflessness that can occur in those extreme situations as well. We think of cannibalism as a terrible act, but the Andes survivors also viewed it as an act of love on their parts, to have offered themselves to each other, willing to have their bodies be cut open and eaten to save their friends.

We think of what happened to Fitzjames as brutal, especially considering the cut marks on his face suggest a particularly sad desperation as the remaining men ate whatever last bits of flesh they could find. And since there were no survivors, there is no happy ending where the men came home, haunted but alive. Looking at other instances of survival cannibalism, however, what those men did is understandable. Cannibalism is seen as uncivilized—the first reports of cannibalism among the Franklin Expedition were dismissed as ludicrous and obscene by Victorian society—but in times of desperation, even the most civilized of men know that it is the only practical recourse. Fitzjames may or may not have known that his body would be used for food, but he probably would not have faulted his men for what they did. They were hungry and they wanted to live.

[wilcze-kudly]

Thoughts on…

https://www.tumblr.com/miss-sweetea-pie/731463633376313344/zutara-lens-vs-kataang-lens?source=share

Is it fair to even mention Zuko seeing as Katara never had feelings for him?

Honestly, I find it kinda funny that OP is sorta telling on themselves by seemingly primarily viewing Jet's storyline through a shipping lens, a stepping stone for Kataang or Zutara.

But sure, let's go with this narrative.

OP claims that Jetara could be seen a foreshadowing to Zutara, as they say that Zuko ans Jet have some similarities. And I suppose that can be true on a surface level. As OP says: Rugged teenage boys with traumatic back stories. But franky, other than being mildly edgy and also having been through some sort of trauma, there's not much there.

In fact, if you compare Aang and Jet, I think you'll find many deeper similarities than just "bad boy with questionable morals".

Aang and Jet have both experienced great loss at the hands of the Fire Nation. Aang losing his entire people and Jet losing his parents and village, presumably leaving them both alone in the world and with a lovely case of survivor's guilt to boot.

Jet and Aang are both kids who were forced by the war to take up positions of responsibility over their fellow victims. Aang, of course, being the Avatar and being fated to end the war. While Jet takes up a leadership positions, persumably gathering kids orphaned and hurt by the Fire Nation, leading them and keeping them safe, while also fighting back. Let's not forget that the reason Jet decided to flood that city was because the firebenders occupying it were planning to burn the forest Jet and the Freedom Fighters resided in, forcing them out and putting them in danger.

We also see a very sweet parallel of Jet encouraging Katara's confidence in her waterbending skills, which is something Aang does on numerous occasions, showing us exactly what affection Katara values in a potential partner and that both Jet and Aang not only believe in her skills, but also intuit her needs.

This is why Katara fell for Jet and why she fell for Aang. They're both protectors and heroes of the people, they're both victims of the Fire Nation who chose to stand up against it. They're revolutionaries, rebels, downright rabble-rousers. They both value communities, and do their best to uplift and defend their fellow victims, something Katara does as well. And they both connect with Katara over not only encouraging her in her own abilities, but also in their shared trauma, which leads me to my next point.

Aang works so well paralleling Jet, because both Jet and Aang were written and posited to parallel Katara. This aspect of Jetara is one OP completely neglected to mention, I suppose due to the fact that it doesn't hoist up Zutara as a ship.

Katara and Jet connect over their trauma very early in the episode, and I think this is where Katara's interest in Jet due to his role as a Freedom Fighter turns to a genuine connection over shared trauma.

Jet: The Fire Nation killed my parents. I was only eight years old. That day changed me forever. Katara: Sokka and I lost our mother to the Fire Nation. Jet: I'm so sorry, Katara..

Katara, Jet and Aang share many similarities, which is why I suppose these two boys were Katara's only explicitly confirmed love interests. Just like Aang and Jet, Katara is community oriented, a voice for victims and the marginalised, a fighter for the good of the people.

Seeing these parallels almost makes me wonder if the design team took this into account when making Jet's design colours mainly blue and orange, colours assvociated with Katara and Aang. Though Jet's colour palette is more muted and darker, perhaps signifying the erosion of his morals due to his trauma.

Jet goes astray when he begins to value the fight over the people he is fighting for, something Aang and Katara actively go against, prioritising human life and their moral integrity.

Atla explores the concept of victimhood and how it affects our morality in various ways, especially when it comes to victims of war. The particular focus of this theme is Katara, as we see the writers often connect her to victims who lost that morality, in order to showcase her character. Hama and Jet both serve as excellent foils to show what Katara could've been if she wasn't as kind and compassionate as she is. The crowning jewel of this storyline for her being, of course, the Southern Raiders, which bears callbacks to both Jet and Hama.

But as much as I want this post to be about Katara, OP has other plans, so let's go back to their arguments for Jetara foreshadowing Zutara.

OP makes an argument about how both Zuko and Jet break Katara's trust, testing her charcter, which is a good point, albeit they conveniently omit Hama from the circle of people who connected with Katara over shared trauma and then betrayed her trust.

Can't imagine why. Is it because Hama isn't hot, isnt it? Op doesn't fancy a nice morally compromised gilf, I suppose. 😒 we used to be a proper country.

OP also claims that the show portrays Katara as too trusting, and even claims that the shows message in Jet's case is, in their words: So from a k.ataang lens it leads more towards the lesson that katara need to stop letting these “bad boys” break her heart, “dumb girl your too trusting just give the sweet guy a chance”.

Which is quite the claim, since I actually really enjoy that Katara is never portrayed as being in the wrong, or 'dumb' for trusting Jet, Zuko and Hama. In fact, the three of them are made to look like assholes for taking advantage of her.

The thing about Katara's trust of Jet, Zuko and Hama isn't that it comes from a place of foolishness or naiveté. It comes from empathy and connection. She connects over shared pain ans trauma with these three and she wants to make a connection to alleviate their pain. It just so happens that Zuko is going through his disaster boyfailure era, while Jet and Hama are morally compromised by the horrific events that brutally formed their mentalities.

Anyways, to wrap this point up, can Hama be an honourary bad boy too I think she deserves that

Another argument of OP is that Jet's death could foreshadow Zuko almost dying in the finale and that is could teach, in their words: how we waste time holding grudges and sometimes people don’t have the luxury of apologizing to the people they love.

Now, this is interesting, because Jet's death very clearly connected to Aang's actual death and then ressuraction via Deus ex Katara. However, unlike the theme of pure romance OP proposes in their post, the canon storyline uses these events to feed more into Katara's personal development and stoyline, that of her fear of loss and helplessness, on which I elaborate here:

That is not to say that this storyline doesn't affect Katara and Aangs romance, but I like that the main focus is Katara's meantality and trauma. Because the thing with Katara and Aang's storylines and development is that they intertwine and feed into each other but aren't overshadowed by their romance.

OP continues to speculate that the jetara storyline through a kataang lense is that "bad boys" will break Katara's heart and that she should just "give the nice guy a chance".

I find this a gross twisting of the nature of multiple characters, relationships and storylines.

First of all, reducing Jet to a "bad boy" is fucking demeaning and kinda disgusting. He's not an edgy boy who smokes in the school's bathroom and rides a loudass motorcycle. He's a traumatised child soldier, caring for other children and desperately trying to stop the advance of an army that already has like 3 genocides under its belt. His morals getting messed up in the process doesn't make him a bad boy, they make him a realisitic victim. A kid who tried his best but became misguided.

In the same, paragraph, OP also claims that, despite the message of the show being that everyone is capable of good and evil and that everyone deserves a chance, because people are complex, Jet is not afforded that dignity and understanding.

AND LET ME TELL YOU LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU

That was upsetting.

Because Jet's redemption was shown so wonderfully and symbolically, to the point where sometimes it makes me more emotional than Zuko's.

In B2 we see that Jet has left the forest (persumably bcs the firebenders did burn down the forest) and his entourage has shrunk to just Longshot our trans queen Smellerbee 🏳️‍⚧️. We are told that he is looking for a new life in Ba Sing Se. So far so good.

It seems that the Gaang intervening with his plans has definetly made him rethink his actions. And he's looking to start a new, kinder life. Even going so far as to remove himself from the fight against the Fire Nation, something he had previously been so passionate about, perhaps because he recognised that it brought out his uglier side. Hell yeah we love a king who can recognise his flaws and strives to better himself.

Jet: I've done some things in my past that I'm not proud of, but that's why I'm going to Ba Sing Se: for a new beginning. A second chance.

Despite not being on the frontlines anymore, he's still a hero for the people, straling food for the ferry passengers from the greedy captain. Noice. He immediately takes an interest in Zuko, assuming as many, that Zuko was a victim of the Fire Nation like him, due to Zuko's scar.

Jet: You know, as soon as I saw your scar, I knew exactly who you were. You're an outcast, like me. And us outcasts have to stick together. We have to watch each other's backs. Because no one else will.

I find this SO endearing because atla places such emphasis on the connections and solidarity between victims. And Jet is no exception to this, having taken so many children orphaned by the Fire Nation (or just orphaned as seemed to be the case with the Duke) and also connecting over being hurt by the Fire Nation with Katara, the same way he thinks he is connecting with Zuko. (Jetara and Jetko should parallel each other actually instead of Jetara and Zutara)

Now things turn south when Jet realises that Zuko and Iroh are firebenders, which while showcasing that Jet's need for redemption hasn't healed his trauma (not surprising) around the Fire Nation, I can't really blame him. Like, he's seen the worst of what firebenders can do, why on earth would he stand by and let them infiltrate the city that refugees flock to in order to escape the war. And yeah he sounds like a raving lunatic, but he is right. Zuko and Iroh are firebenders.

From then on, Jet is used as a pawn by Long Feng and the Dai Li, but he still does his best to help the Gaang, seemingly holding no grudge against them for ruining his plans of mass murder.

We see a nice lil trauma flashback of Jet's childhood trauma, giving us a tangible illustration of his motivations and pushing us to sympathise with him. We see him and Katara share a sweet moment as she literally alleviates the pain of the memories. This scene can not only be read as romantic but as another example of solidarity and support between victims in atla.

But it's in the bowels of Lake Laogai, as Aang and Jet face off against Long Feng, that we see the symbolic redemption for Jet really come to its crescendo.

Long Feng, compels Jet into fighting Aang, directly paralleling Aang and Jet's previous battle in the Jet episode. Aang is trying to solve the situation peacefully, even while Jet is trying to hurt him.

Aang: Jet, it's me, Aang! You don't have to do this! Long Feng: I'm afraid he no longer has a choice.

[...] Aang: Jet, I'm your friend! Look inside your heart! Long Feng: Do your duty, Jet! Aang: He can't make you do this! You're a Freedom Fighter!

And I can't not think how the brainwashing pushed Jet into an almost identical situation as his grief and anger did all those years ago. It's a decent comparison, I suppose. Both stem from a painful, stressful situation, influence his actions, pusging him to do things against his usual morals, turning him away from the caring, idealist Freedom fighter he is.

But this time, Jet breaks through the thing clouding his mind. He remembers himself. His trauma, his friendship and care for the freedom fighters and his connection to Katara. He sadly pays the ultimate price for this.

And while I dislike this plot point, because as a rule of thumb I dislike when a character gets a redemption arc and immediately dies or redeems themself by dying, but I can appreciate this scene for how it defined puts a lot of care into showing us the change in Jet, his perception by the gaang and his role in the story.

Katara tries to heal Jet, but is pessimistic(in the commentary of this episode, it's mentioned that there could be a few explanations as to why she didn't use the spirit water.) Here, Jet urges Katara and the Gaang to go find Appa, leaving him to essentially die.

And it's as the Gaang leave, we can compare the ends of the two Jet storylines. In Jet, the last time we look upon Jet's face, it is twisted by anger and rage. In Lake Laogai, he wears a sad, but reassuring smile, and somehow looks at peace.

When Katara first had to leave him in Jet, her expression is one of betrayal and disappointment. In Lake Laogai, she looks to be preparing to grieve, almost as if she were trying to hold back tears. She's conflicted and sad in both scenes, but for different reasons, showing how Jet has redeemed himself in her eyes.

Where in Jet, we leave Jet disgraced and in turmoil, in Lake Laogai we leave him dying, yes, but also a hero, kind and brave, and free. And I like to believe that the second is the real Jet.

Ok this just turned into me gushing over jet, but I think this was important to highlight the significance and uniqueness of Jet and Katara's relationship. Presenting it as "the proto-Zutara" is a disservice to this complex, heartwrenching storyline. And that was kinda gross of OP. Shame on them.

I also think OP is mistaken by labelling Aang as just the "nice guy" whom Katara should "give a chance to". Aang is indeed a nice, kind person and this is something that attracts Katara, because she's also a good person and she values such traits. But this is not the only reason Katara falls for Aang. Like with Jet, she connects with him over shared trauma. He enables her growth, respects her as a teacher, offers her comfort when needed, is her friend and supporter.

Katara is not "giving him a chance" their relation simply progresses very slowly and in a slightly unorthodox manner. We see that Katara has a growing crush on Aang, blushing over him and getting incredibly jealous when other girls try to get with him.

I also like that Aang and Jet are never pitted against each other and Aang is never jealous of Jet. In fact Aang seems almost just as infatuated with Jet as Katara lol (jetaang rights babey).

OP also claims that a lot of people misinterpret TSR as Katara being manipulated by Zuko and "needing Nice Guy Aang to save her". Which is something I've talked about a few times. I don't believe Zuko was consciously manipulating Katara. He was simply trying to build a relationship with her because she was very adamant on hating him. And because he didn't know her that well, he tried to help by projecting his own needs and anger over his mother's loss onto her. Which is very 16 year old boy of him.

And I don't believe Aang was even trying to "save" her. I think he was simply trying to help Katara think through her actions throughly before she did something rash that may haunt her forever.

Aang bringing up Jet also seemed more like a : "hey remember when we saw a guy betray his morals due to his grief pain and trauma despite being a kind and good person with an good goal?" Which I think is a kinda understandable thing since it happened like twice to them already. And remember that Aang has also experienced how destructive his anger can be and he knows Katara's morality and idealism well enough to know that what she is planning is way out of character.

OP tags this post with "I swear zutara gives the show so much more depth" and while I don't want to deride the ship as a whole, the themes and storylines OP gave don't really bring that much depth into the show. It simply repurposes the arcs and storylines that served to either explore Katara, or the concept of victimhood and morality into serving a romance.

Which is... fine, if that's what you consider deep I suppose. I just think it's obvious that OP had clear biases when coming up with their post. And like, biases are fine, we're writing meta about a kid's show not a fucking reseaech paper, I'd be a hypocrite if I called OP out on having preferences.

But it's obvious that OP did their darndest to present Kataang in the least favourable light and didn't even try to consider giving it a shred of anything but a cursory, critical glance.

If I were to talk about their "Jetara foreshadowing Zutara" idea with its "bittersweet lesson how we waste time holding grudges and sometimes people don’t have the luxury of apologizing to the people they love" like they talk about Kataang, I could say (altering OP's text here):

"So from a Zutara lens it leads more towards the lesson that katara need to stop holding a grudge towards these boys who hurt and used her, “dumb girl you need to forgive them quickly cause what if they suddenly die and you realise you love them and regret it“ .

...which sounds like some manner of abuse apologism. I don't think OP had this in mind, but it just shows how easy it is to paint a benign message into something shitty if you're just salty enough.

I think that wraps this up. I can vaguely understand what OP meant, and it's a cute concept for Zutara shippers, I just don't know why Kataang slander had to get dragged in here. Since while OP seems fairly invested in Zuko, they visibly have a little issue giving thought to Katara, Aang and Jet's storylines.

Which is sad, especially in Jet's case, since he doesn't get nearly enough love from the fandom. So here's the little note from the atla cookbook that made me really emotional over Jet lol

HE COOKED FOR THE FREEDOM FIGHTERS AGH OUGH AGH

[crazylittlejester]

*points at what you said in Sunny’s ask about hair stuff (which are all wonderful and yes) and Wars bleaching and straightening his hair*

Silly or Hero-warship previous mostly blond heroes gotta look the part perfect soldier image peer pressure whatever? (Basically, silly little guy or sads?) (My brain immediately went to this but it kinda falls apart with some of the others in the chain having different hair colors (which, again awesome, curly hair Rulie and Wind my beloveds) but thought why not ask anyways)

Taking this as a Yap opportunity because it’s been so long since people have sent in asks about my Wars headcanons and I feel like I haven’t gotten to talk about this in a while >:) SO THANK YOU FOR THIS

edit: apologies if theres any spelling mistakes im dyslexic but also just an idiot

So I hc Wars came from a very small village on the outskirts of the kingdom and when he got to Castletown and joined the army things were very different, HE was very different. He didn’t feel like he fit in with them, so he tried his best to force himself to fit in which is why I hc he does a fake accent, a Castletown/British one so people assume he comes from there. The way people view him is very important to him because he worries if they don’t see him through the carefully crafted lens he’s set up for himself to be viewed through, people will not like him or they won’t think he’s worthy or they’ll think he’s pathetic and he can’t handle that. So everything about how he’s constructed and built himself, from his hair to his accent to his walk to his laugh, his smile, voice, posture, all of it is carefully and deliberately crafted so that his image and how he presents himself is consistent, reliable, and “hero worthy”

Him straightening and dyeing his hair was 100% because he saw the heroes of legend and realized he didn’t look like them. I hc the Hero of Time was a huge figure, and one of the most noted heroes in Wars’s era, so little Wars compared himself to that a LOT. (and I also hc he never knew Mask was the Hero of Time because the kid called himself the Hero of Masks because HE didn’t think he could live up to his own title.) He thought if he looked more like what the people of Hyrule envision the great hero to look like in their minds, he’d be taken much more seriously

Of course now, seven years after the war, after he’s had a lot of time to come to terms with things and start to heal, Warriors doesn’t feel the need to look like the other heroes in order to be worthy, and he realizes this before he even meets the others. But NOW he’s stuck because he hasn’t felt like himself or like he KNEW himself at all since he was like 14/15, and he’s nearly 28 now and after over a decade of being in the army or “Hero of Warriors”, he doesn’t really know HOW to be him. He’s not yet at a point where he can fully realize the only thing that’s going to make him happy is becoming himself again, he knows he feels more relaxed when he feels safe but hes not really aware of how much his guard drops and how his act disappears when he’s completely at peace. He feels like he needs to keep playing this character of himself he’s made, and that includes keeping up appearances

He’s getting better about relaxing how strict he is with himself, he’ll allow himself lazy mornings where he doesn’t straighten his hair or do his makeup, but he almost obsessively dyes his hair and that’s the last thing he’ll stop doing, because I hc he looks VERY much like his mother and where he’s at right now, he couldn’t handle seeing that. (I hc his mother is alive, and so are all the sisters i hc he has, and they haven’t seen him since he left all those years ago because he feels like he CANNOT go back because hes so different now and he cannot handle the idea that home wouldnt feel like home anymore because he’s become a monster at war and he wont belong there anymore. He still writes home, and keeps in contact, and he’s seen Linkle (his twin), but he can’t bring himself to see his mother in his own face or just go home until he relearns who he actually is)

*wet cough* sorry for the yap 🥺 i have a lot of thoughts and he’s my special guy and this is how I characterize him in my writing (unless its an au or a specific other thing) so i think about him a LOT

if anyone is interested in this characterization of him heres a link to my main Wars series:

*collapses and dies*

[evilminji]

I Am? Still? Thinking?? Of My Hive Mind Crechelings Au? (Prev <-)

The Creepy Crechelings? My Fuuuuckin POSSESSED Lil Babies (absolutely affectionate and full of love)?

I CAN'T STOP, man. It's the SOFTEST and WARMEST Epilog? Just... fuck, I wanna cry. It's SO FULL OF LIGHT? So content and happy and "then... our Hero gets to REST. No more struggle. No more pain. Just golden sweetness and simple days."???

The Tragedy Of Darth Vader WAS, ultimately, utterly and completely, because Anakin Skywalker was a GOOD MAN.

Because the Dark took something GOOD and twisted it. Made it MONSTROUS. Killing his soul with ten thousand cuts of doubt and fear. Anger, arrogance, and unwarranted pride. He had COMPASSION. So much love in him he could barely stand to BREATHE.

The world BURNED for how great his Empathy, made the weight of all the universe's suffering, upon his shoulders.

He was GOOD. Could STILL be good. And? The Force DOES work in mysterious ways. It just needs... an in. Someone, ANYONE, to ask the right question. At ANY point. Because it CAN NOT push upon them the answers. Fix for them all life's woes. The Force is not a God... it simple IS. And though it wishes to help, loves them dearly, it can only OFFER what is ASKED for.

And, yes, there are loopholes. Visions and gifts it might give. Technicalities it might work off of. That gut feeling? Well... your INSTINCTS want you to survive. Surely THEY are asking? Are they not? "How do we survive?" They ask. Endlessly. So the Force may answer.

And SURELY, The Force knows, the you of 20 seconds from now, would ASK them to warn you not to eat that fruit. It is poison. That is definitely in line with what you would ask! It can see it. Because Time is simultaneous to the Force. Why, it can even use this to justify, too itself, the Visions! SOMEONE is asking! It can even tell you whom! And when!

It WON'T.

But it COULD.

Yet! Let us focus! Anikin Skywalker!

Do YOU remember how he was born? Oh, sure, we are all PASSINGLY familiar. Born to Shmi Skywalker. "No Father". Etc etc? BUT!!! Details MATTER! And in science? In HEALTH? "Spontaneous Baby" is NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

How. What, SPECIFICALLY, made UP the spontaneous baby? From WHERE? Was it air? Energy? A clone? A hypothetical child of Shmi and some long dead individual she could not possibly have met?

These are important questions! Specifically, important to understand WHAT ANIKIN'S SPECIES IS. Cause "humanoid" is NOT a species! A race! Stewjoni and Naboolians are subtly different! Yes, both human variants. But that's the THING, isn't it?

They. Are. VARIANTS.

As in DIFFERENT. Divergent from one another. Perhaps not A LOT, but enough that their unique medical needs might be significant! Different environmental strains, different diets, different evolutionary paths for thousands of years. In SOME cases? They might no longer be COMPATIBLE anymore! Or barely! A tiger and a cat are both feline, but you'd be blind to mistake them as the same thing.

Then we have Anikin.

Who is haaaaalf??? What exactly?

Well, "The Force" according to research. By means of Sith meddling. But! And for the purpose of this ramble??

He is birth was "a work of the midi-chlorians".

.......let that sink in for a second. The Force channeling, HIVE MINDED, symbiotic micro organisms inside Shmi? Were instructed or guided to? Just take energy? Food and DNA. And... 3D print a baby into existence. They did, obviously, it was easy. But CONSIDER WHAT THAT MEANS.

It MEANS?

Anikin is HALF MIDI-CHLORIAN.

(At least in this AU.)

It's WHY he is so, SO fuckin desperate to connect. So ungodly powerful. So destabilized by not having "attachments". His brain is structured by organisms and half IS, of a sort, the sort of organism that REQUIRES an interconnected system. To offload the massive amount of sensory input the Force gives him. To regulate Big Emotions. To form councils and crunch through problems.

To get those good, good Soul Hugs.

Anikin? Not doing so hot. He's been SURROUNDED by what FEELS like a hive? But they keep EXCLUDING him and he doesn't have the words to explain why that upset him. Why he wants to crawl inside their brains an just... just hang. Not touch anything! Just... just nap! Maybe get a hug? P... Please?

Why does EVERYONE HATE HIM?!

But they don't. They just have different boundaries. Are NOT Hive Minds. THEIR Midi-chlorians? Are not at such a high concentration that it affects their thought patterns.

Unlike? The Creepy Crechelings.

Who absolutely doooooo. THEY are still in the We/Us phase. Boundaries? What Boundaries? We're crawling through each other's brains and on the ceiling! Full of light, love, and horrifying prophecy! Eating sand! Many thoughts, head full! We can taste TIME!!! :D

And it takes a SPECIAL breed of Creche Master with VERY strong shields to interact with them. Mind tricks are both accidental and daily. Poker face of kindness is a must. Good emotional regulation. So when one sees Anikin losing his shit again?

They sigh. Put down their muffin. And go deal with it.

Probably not even awake.

They just feel *Overwhelming Power* and hear upset noises and go "Ah, starting early, today is." Then wander over. And effortlessly defuse the situation. Flop their Force presence on Anikin like a weighted blanket. It would be UNSPEAKABLY rude and invasive to most anyone else? But Obi-Wan just...? Watchs his ex-padawan go BONELESS against this Crech Master he's never met? Like :O

T-teach me. Please, for the love of the Force, teach me to do that.

Next thing you know? They are talking, Obi-Wan getting a crash course in Super Powerful Younglings™ that honestly he should have gotten YEARS ago, but was run too ragged to. And Anikin? Blissed out, high as a kite, at the bottom of a Youngling pile. Mmmmm, lumpy pillow. We gonna sit and sleep and climb all over you, Master Skywalker.

*adoring, emotionally gooey voice* Okay.

He volunteers. Fuck it, he practically LIVES out of that Creche. Padme! Padme, we're adopting. He wants to be a stay at home dad. Build droids. Everything is Beautiful and nothing hurts. *war is still happening* ah. Shit. Right. THAT™.

Okay! New plan. AFTER the war. He has discovered his calling. Is suddenly bonding with Jedi he's never even talked to before. Is that Plo Koon? Plo! PLO! Hey, thanks for lending me that youngling development module! You got any others you recommend?

Him and Obi-Wan? Suddenly getting along better then they have in YEARS. His Master seems genuinely THRILLED he has a clear goal he's working towards and is supporting him ten thousand percent. Openly bragging. Consulting with him. AND? Is so much more OPEN! That Creche Master really helped him Understand how Anikin's brain works!

Which? Leads to Anikin getting healthier. More and more stable. The babies fuckin sneaking aboard. His Men LOSING THEIR SHIT because WHY ARE THERE TUBIES, SIR?! Babies! Infants! Smol, itty bitty, BABY CHILDS!!!???

And? On one hand? He has never felt so clear head and stable as when they are with him. Interconnected. US and WE and THE HIVE. The Force is With Us and We are The Force.

Buuuuuut on the OTHER hand? He is an adult. He CAN seperate what HE wants from what is good for his lil baby friends. This isn't safe. They could get HURT. Die! It... honestly? It makes him think about his mom a lot. He thinks he finally GETS it. Hates that he does. Is in AWE of how strong she was. Hopes he can take the lessons she taught him and live up to them.

Because it's not about what HE wants. It's about what's best for these kids.

They have to go back.

.....except the man he THOUGHT was his friend? THOUGHT was a GOOD MAN? Won't let them LEAVE THE FRONT LINES. Won't even authorize an emergency shuttle. There are vulnerable children. On the FRONT LINES. And Shee-...no. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, won't let them GET THEM TO SAFETY?

Is THIS what over a decade of friendship means to this man? Is THIS what his "sympathies" are truely WORTH? Empty words and no action? Saying what you want to hear then sitting in his fancy office while CHILDREN are shot at?

Anikin wants to put his fist through a durasteel WALL.

Through some careful maneuvering, some Ships on the way back are are able to pick up the VERY In Trouble kiddos. It'll be about five ship hops. But they'll get there. And in the mean time? The entire GAR now knows where the Chancellor's priorities lay.

But? What to do, what to do? The kiddos are GONE! Anikin's head is gonna start getting crowded. Fuzzy. Crushed up and too small! He literally, physically, NEEDS people. For his mental and ultimately physical health!

"Well... you DID say Midi-chlorians are in every living thing, didn't you? It's just that most Sentients don't have enough to reach the threshold of Force Sensitive. Right?" Says Anikin's medic.

Anikin raises a finger. Opens his mouth to respond.

Considers this genuinely.

Puts DOWN his finger and closes his mouth. Nods. Yes. Yes, they DO. Why? Where exactly are you going with this? Medic taps a message to the GAR in ship message board. Please. You know EXACTLY where he's going with this.

Yeah.

Yeah, Anikin does.

And the Vode? Gotta admit. Having their General curled up like a comm system in the back of their brains? Kiiiiinda weird at first. But he's not? Actually? Touching anything? It's kinda like having someone follow you around, hanging off your shoulders in a hug. Because they feel needy and desperately need the contact. Little awkward? Yeah.

But we move on.

And the General respects boundaries. Politely pulls back and out/away when they want "personal" time. Something he had practice doing cause he's in a relationship. And there are Thoughts and Feelings you DO NOT want to share with younglings. It apparently helped him learn to shield. Quickly. Very, VERY quickly.

They only laugh at him a little bit.

He imagines throwing pillow blocks at them.

But THEN? One of them gets a head wound. Nothing to terrible. But bad enough that the midi-chlorians flow up to the area, to help speed up and properly regulate the healing. Because their's have become more active. Not STRONGER mind you. Just... more ACTIVE.

And they can fucking FEEL their General mentally screech to a full stop. Perfectly, utterly, FURIOUSLY Blank. Like the dead silence before the blaster bolts start flying. Like just after the flash but before the blast hits. A terrible, TERRIBLE silence.

Something is Wrong.

"What Is That?"

What is... WHAT? Sir?

And then things move very, very quickly. All things possible, through the Force. A baby created. Chips UN-created. It really is? Just directing the Midi-chlorians all ready THERE to do what you want them too. Offering up some extra energy, if needed. A Leader to guide the hive.

One deep enough meditation, reaching though-out "HIS" sprawling body? Really, what is the difference between purging a chip from your thigh in THIS body? And being over there? Or over there? What are "walls" or "distance" or this silly concept of "other"?

We Are One With The Force, And The Force Is One With US.

He is every Vode on the Ship. He is Anikin Skywalker. He was a Slave. But now? NOW both he and they and US? Are FREE. He will suffer no slaves in his presence. No more chips or collars with bombs. Time to free the others. Free everyone. Demand ANSWERS.

And they do.

The epilog? Oh THAT I can not stop thinking of.

Padme in the senate. Fierce and accomplished. A storied carrier fighting for the people of the galaxy. Anikin a Creche Master for the POWERFUL kiddos. The strange ones who need someone sturdy.

Who can handle their Us/We phase with grace. Who learns and grows, honors and remembers Shmi Skywalker every time one of them one of them starts to pull away. Starts to develop boundaries. Barriers. Starts to want to be their OWN person. Has not just grown strong in shielding but old enough to develop a defined personality, seperate from their friends.

The twins growing up with a whole Creche of siblings. Because their parents LIVE at the temple. Their mother works at the senate! They wave bye-bye every morning. And spend the day with dad. Not separated, not quite living with them fully either. Not after infancy at least. But the Order is changing.

Vode everywhere. Kids born of Jedi. The Corps withdrawn back to the temple to help handle the influx. Lots of debates about Tradition and Change that Anikin care not a lick about. HE'S taking his Crechelings to the Naboolian Embassy's Spring Festival. Does everyone remember how to be polite? Say "hello"! *various smol children chorus Hello in Naboolian, badly but very earnestly*

Just? Field trips. Droids and Vode dropping by to say hello. Padme being the LION of the senate while her retired kindergarten tearcher equivalent, war hero husband cheers. Adorable but freaky children popping out of the vents. Anikin treating his tiny squad of Tiny Anti-christ Acting Babies as though this were TOTALLY NORMAL and just how children act.

SOFT AND FLUFFY EPILOG~☆

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @hypewinter @hdgnj @spidori @tiredafel