#But still like there is guilt there because you CAN know more than I do nowadays

[kaisentine]

𝒲HAT IS THAT MELODY?

turn that shit up ! what popular song do bllk boys remind me of?

feat. michael kaiser, itoshi sae, mikage reo, itoshi rin, oliver aiku

note : YES… i did do research on what the songs’ meanings are and i understand some of them don’t fit as well but i’m also basing this off of certain lyrics as well so #don’tdiscriminate… also this has opened up my multi-character works 😁 expect more in the future LMFAO. also is this the right time to say i did not proofread

💿 MICHAEL KAISER is now playing… back to the basics by lana del rey (unreleased)

cw : uhm coercion (i think), implied toxic relationship (I LOVE KAISER DONT GET ME WRONG… but he’s still poopy anyway #keepingitreal☹️) + if you count that in, then there’s angst if you squint, thoughts of killing (JUST ONCE and it’s not serious, promise!)

“everybody’s saying that you’re no good for me”

it’s not hard to decipher you’re definitely in love with the star soccer player—michael kaiser. however, even with your rose-tinted glasses, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s still an asshole. so now it honestly feels like it’s you and him (probably ness too) v.s your friends. they just don’t understand the euphoria hidden behind all his lies. but God was it hard to handle him now that he’s a hotshot within the athletic world—it’s like when you try to speak to him, he starts spewing nonsense and even more lies to you.

“c’mon, hase.” his plea sounds more like demanding no matter how hard he tried to sound convincing. it’s weird seeing a man like him on his knees begging so you avert your gaze with your arms crossed. you know you’re doomed to give into him and his sweet-talk again—like you always do—kaiser knows that, he just needs to find which button to press to make you give in faster.

this time you’re taking longer than you normally do. he’s starting to get impatient by your little game of trying to get rid of him. “kaiser… we can’t keep doing this anymore.” you finally say, something kaiser didn’t expect you to say. “last name basis already, huh?” he gets up from his (very awkward) position to tower over you—to intimidate you.

you try to stand your ground but with the way he’s looking at you, is it too late to run away?

“i know what you’re trying to do. my friends keep telling me.” you’re stubborn, aren’t you? you’re annoying when you’re like this, he hates it. “and you’re really listening to your friends over your boyfriend?” he keeps trying to talk but you cut him off, “ex-boyfriend. please, don’t do this.” you’re the one begging now and he really wishes he could relish in this sight forever.

SLAM

holy shit, did you just slam the door on him? i’m going to die—you think. kaiser chuckles on your porch after being met with your front-door i’m going to kill you—he thinks.

the next few weeks are bombarded by countless messages from ness. who you are quite acquainted with him because of kaiser. all of them are along the lines of ‘trust me, he’s changed’ they’re all full of bullshit that you can smell it and scrunch your nose up in disgust. but as fate would have it, it wasn’t on your side!

“took ‘ya long enough, hase.” the sickly sweet nickname rolls off his tongue like second nature. it’s a very familiar scene, he’s on your doorstep again. he’s towering over you and your eyes are glossed over with admiration and guilt. “‘m really sorry.” you try not to sniffle to keep it cool. you really despise the way kaiser can’t keep his stupid grin off of his face at your weak attempt not to cry. “aw, it’s okay. but it’s gonna take a lot for me to forgive you.” he says in faux concern before pulling you into a hug—his cologne filling up your senses and making it hard to breathe.

the urge to punch him in the stomach is futile by the way he basically crushes your bones in the hug. oh you hate the way you can never get rid of him, oh you hate the way you give into him, oh you hate the way he’s the one wanting the apology when it’s actually you who deserves such privilege.

‘i hate you but i really just hate the way i love you too much to let go.’

because eventually, you know you’ll always fall into his traps no matter how far you run away. however, the only thing on your mind is how you’ll never hear the end of it from your friends.

💿 ITOSHI SAE is now playing… no one noticed by the marias

cw : angst, hurt/little to no comfort (guys… please don’t burn me), OK but open-ending, uh sae might be a really super big asshole here, i also realized at the end that 7 weeks and 3 days by yungatita would’ve been better but YOLO

“come on, don’t leave me, it can’t be that easy, babe.”

as much as you’d like to make him stay, you know he wouldn’t. he wanted to be as free as a bird in the sky with no restraints—including a relationship. even after promising one day he’d come back, reassuring you that you’ll always be his answer, he then left without a trace. now you’re just starting to realize letting go is easier than it seems until the problem arises once again.

you know he already told you that he’d come back but why only now does he decide to show up? a lover of yours to whom you vowed to never love another before his return. it’s just been so long that you doubt he evens remembers the promise.

“didn’t think you’d actually turn up.” you spit out, he isn’t even phased by the malice in your tone. “i told you i would, didn’t i?” he responds. “yeah but that was like ten fucking years ago?” you emphasize the ten fucking years because seriously, ten years radio silence and he thinks he can just slide back into you life like that? he must be a crazed man.

for the first three years of those ten, you were content with waiting for him. the fourth and fifth, you began growing impatient. sixth, you felt like you didn’t care anymore. from the seventh to ninth year, you swore you hated him with a dagger aimed to your heart. lastly, on the tenth year (on which he decided to show up), you finally accepted he did not give a shit and that you shouldn’t either.

“i needed to prioritize my career before i could support any of my relationships.” he now sounds confused by the way you’re so upset at this situation.

he used the ten years you took to realize that dwelling on some dumb red-head wasn’t worth it to work on his soccer career? “you could’ve texted.” you retorted. “didn’t have the time to.” your jaw actually wants to drop by how ignorant his response is. he’s talking to the person he ghosted for a decade like this?

you’d like to joke around and say ‘damn sae, you’re just like an ex who slides back into your life’ but it isn’t a joke—not with him, at least. “didn’t have time to? it would’ve been better if you never had the time to. just let us go, itoshi.” the way you say his last name is deadly. he’s already been bitten by a snake once before so he knows he can survive your bite.

does he even know how much you sacrificed? did he put two and two together to realize how much he made an impact to you? so much so that at one point, anything would’ve reminded you of him.

“you’re being emotional, talk to me when you aren’t.” he says as if he wasn’t the one who started the conversation—the nerve!

“my number is the same but change the last digit to 8.” and off he goes, removing himself from your life like always.

the way you’re quietly dialing the phone that night completely destroys everything you worked for—like you’re crumbling down just for the thought that he might pick up.

💿 MIKAGE REO is now playing… show me how by men i trust

cw : guys it’s getting too angsty for me i might cry, still a lil angst and neglect but it’s not that bad 😭, i acc wrote this one last bc i didn’t know which song to use for him (my first option was shameless by avenoir), when i was writing this… i was thinking abt melania and trump’s relationship (WE LISTEN AND WE DON’T JUDGE.), reader eats meat… anyway… so this is significantly worse than everyone elses so uhm, cliff hanger who!

“show me how you care.”

everyone keeps commenting on how lucky you are that you managed to bag a billionaire’s son and you say thanks! because that’s how you should respond. but dear God, does he even know anything about you anymore? being in a chokehold relationship with mikage corp’s heir isn’t too hard until you start questioning reo’s love for you. yeah he’s shown you how he loves you but you need more words instead of actions and a credit card.

“reo, can we talk?” you ask the purple-haired male while he’s hard at work at his desk. “i’m a bit busy right now. we can talk later, yeah? go out and use my card as an apology.” he hums before returning his vision back to whatever he was doing. it’s the typical response you were expecting but you didn’t want to use his money—you wanted to talk.

you’ve already exited the room to go to the mall anyway. you’re left eating alone at some restaurant with shopping bags being used as your excuse for some company. the steak you ordered is bland like the way reo hugs you. his touches feel empty now, every time you go to hold his hand, he doesn’t flat out reject it but he doesn’t squeeze your hand the same way you do—the same way he used to.

one thing about reo is that it seems like he hates communication and in his world, the only way he knows how to say sorry is his credit card.

he doesn’t care, does he?

when you get back to his place, he acts like he doesn’t remember the way you said that you wanted to talk. he keeps trying to put off that talk for as long as he can. it’s gotten to the point you have that stupid look on your face—cheeks being slightly puffed out with your eyebrows furrowed. reo hates the look on your face so he approaches you with caution.

“you good?” he asks but you don’t respond. “need a hug?” he just keeps talking to the point you feel like something is boiling in your head. you shake your head to say no because you’ve started to dislike his emotionless hugs—feels like you’re hugging a log with brittle twigs. how would he feel like if you gave him the same treatment he’s given you? although, it is a bit more serious because you aren’t speaking to him at all.

his time will come where you grace him with your voice one again but that’s only when he actually asks you to talk to him! in his invisible diary, he write ‘it’s been 3 days since they’ve spoken to me, i can’t see through my right eye…’ sure he’s being more than overdramatic but he can’t figure out why you’re giving him the silent treatment.

oh but little did you know, he remembers that you did want to speak with him…

“can you just speak to me, please?” the way he says please is intoxicating to you. you’re waiting.

“fine. let’s have that talk.”

💿 ITOSHI RIN is now playing… lovers rock by tv girl

cw : unrequited love, angst, reader should go to r/aita 😭, uh kissing, this one is longer but rin isn’t even in my favs 😭

“because love can burn like a cigarette”

and it only hurts because you know you can’t have him. you’d love to kiss him right now but you understand that if you do then your whole life would probably blow up into a million pieces. it hurts so much that even if your life blows up, it wouldn’t matter. can it hurt that much to just kiss him? yes.

“oh he totally likes you!” you giggle at your friend’s flushed face after an encounter with her longterm crush—itoshi rin. she tries to shut you up in a joking manner but manages to only do so after she confesses something. “didn’t i tell you?” she asks which makes you raise an eyebrow. “tell me what?”

“…he does like me.”

wow, an arrow straight to the heart much? your expression of gloom is soon masked by raw surprise. “really?! when did that happen?” you force out a smile—to your credit, you were genuinely surprised by such because never once had she mentioned it before. “last week.” she sounds guilty, the type of guilty you’d only show your friends if you forgot to mention that you got married.

little did she know, you also had your eyes on the raven-haired man for quite some time now too. “ooh girl i’m hurt,” you start with it off with faking a shot to the heart and she laughs. “should’ve told me earlier!’ you almost fall to the ground for the effects (and also because your knees feel weak in sorrow) but refrain from doing so. “sorry, sorry! come to my house this saturday, i’ll introduce you!” she says before quickly running off to wherever.

“sure.” you whisper. walking to the nearby bathroom feels more like you’re dragging yourself to it. you can’t bring yourself to muster up the tears to cry over heartbreak because she really didn’t know you also liked rin. but the way you couldn’t even cry because now you’d feel like the asshole? you hated her.

you dreaded going to her house that saturday.

sadly, time stops for no one and now you’re here sitting in your friend’s room with rin all alone because she needed to help her mom with dinner. it wasn’t a crime to yearn for someone you couldn’t have but being with the someone you couldn’t have? someone bring you to jail already.

it’s quite awkward in the room due to the silence and both of you choosing to not speak. but being a chatterbox such as yourself, you’d soon come to regret it. “so… whats up?” you ask with caution. “nothing much. i only agreed to come because my soccer training was canceled.” he answers. you nod at his words—he looks really peaceful right now.

his black hair draping down his face, striking eyes bringing emphasis to his bottom lashes… his nonchalant expression. it’s just too much for you.

across the room.

you’re across the room from him and you hate the distance. all you know is that they both like each-other—nothing more—no labels—no launches. would doing something now really hurt more than how you’re hurting right now?

it’s quick. you were quick on your feet to get over to him, you were quick to bend down to where he was resting his back on your friend’s bed, you were quick to close the space, you were quick to move away.

rin is bewildered by your actions with no words to say. “sorry!” you apologize as fast as you dash out of the room—leaving him sitting there to question his thoughts, bringing a finger up to his lips—did his mu’s bestfriend just steal his first kiss?

“where are you going?” your friend’s mom asks aloud when she sees you dashing to the front-door. “my mom called! emergency! say that i said sorry!” those were the words you spoke before booking it out the front door.

later, when your friend comes out of the bathroom to question her mom what the commotion was all about, she just says that you had an emergency—she frowns because she really wanted you to try her cooking. after dinner, she brings rin back up to her room. just like you did hours before, she advances her moves to hover her face right above his—to give him a kiss, just like you, albeit, it’s longer and more drawn-out unlike yours.

“you’re my first kiss.” he mutters out.

💿 OLIVER AIKU is now playing… why’d you only ever call me when you’re high? by artic monkeys

cw : SITUATIONSHIP (bleuhhh), somewhat suggestive..? (idk but be wary cause idk how to write him w/o making it smth like that), angst, aiku is an asshole (BRO everyone is an asshole here i’m crying), mention of drugs

“why’d you only ever call me when you’re high?”

your lame situationship loves calling you late at night after getting with another girl and now you’ve grown to hate when he calls you but you just can’t stop picking up his calls.

you’re jolted up awake once you hear that fuck-ass ringtone coming from behind your pillow. the screen is bright so you have to squint really hard to see what was going on, you’re on your way to decline the call when you see his name pop up but your hand slips (!) and you swipe the call. “oliver, it’s three in the morning.” you groggily complain only to be met with heavy breathing on the other end.

“oh don’t even. call me when you’re done.” you gasp, then end the call. you throw your phone to the end of your bed and slam yourself back down onto your mattress. does that man ever catch a break? why do you even like him. it’s not like you guys are really anything else so is it really worth it to hang on and only hope for something you know you won’t get in return?

you probably get a good two hour nap before you’re awoken by another phone call. “you done?” you ask, more awake now since it’s 5AM already. “hi. yeah.” his voice reverberates along his bathroom walls—he’s gross, isn’t he? “you’re gonna make me pick up another phone call just to say that?” you sound irritated, and you are because it’s such a hassle to keep up with him like this.

“dunno, just wanted to hear your voice.” he replies in a wobbly voice. is he high again? “…are you high?” you ask in concern as if this wasn’t his 54th time calling after smoking something. “maybe.” he says. “you’re hopeless. you should go to rehab, you know?” you snake your way into his mind but it’s stupid to think he can even comprehend what you’re telling him right now.

“nah, i got better things to do, ‘ya know?” he chuckles at your pitiful attempt to help him get better. he knows you know that he isn’t keen on doing such—not anymore, at least. he’s content with his life as it is. “can i…” you breathe, “can i ask you something?” you finish. “what’s up?” he’s being as attentive as he can be through this state, he trying his best.

you hate the way how out of it he sounds, yet he’s still trying to hear you out. “do you still want this?” it’s like you had something get lifted off your chest only for it to get dropped on your head instead. “want what?” great, he doesn’t understand your question. not wanting to give this opportunity up, you rephrase it. “i meant, do you still want me?”

the other line is silent for a while. “sure, i still want you.” he responds. “so stop calling me when you’re high or you’re with another girl.” you winced at your own words. he’s really taking advantage of the way you understand that you guys aren’t anything more than a “oh, it’s complicated” type of relationship and that you guys are technically still allowed to see other people—but he’s the only one actually using it.

“let me ask you this. do you still want us?”

you loathe him but you can’t help but reply with i do.

“so don’t complain about my calls.”

thank you for reading this far :)

[ughtyrell]

Jayce is sent back in time to when the councilors argue about Zaun's independence and Jayce just wants to get his partner out of there

Jayce felt himself let out a gasp, the kind when you've just woken up from a nightmare. Glancing around he realizes he's in the council room. The councilors still raging over Zaun's independence. He knows they'll agree but then it wouldn't matter anyhow because half of them would perish a minute later.

"Jayce?"

It felt like Jayces heart would stop, that voice, that beautiful voice. To his side is Viktor, beautiful, perfect and flawed, whole Viktor who is staring at him in concern. The only one who heard his gasp and is noticing his panic at the moment. Right. The whole reason he's here right now.

"Viktor we need to go." Standing up and facing Viktor, ready to lead him away immediately. Except Viktor is looking at him in disbelief and the beginning of anger.

"The peace agreement Jayce." He says as if that will matter when he's dead. He's going to die. No! That's why Jayce is here. To change that. Then Jayce wouldn't need to merge him with the hexcore. He wouldn't become the Herald. He wouldn't be a lonely mage at the end of the world. All would be different if he can just get Viktor out of here now.

"Viktor I have a really bad feeling. We need to leave. Now."

Jayce hears the councilors quieting over his strange behavior, Mel saying his name in question. He doesn't care, the only one who matters he's already looking at. His partner who seems like he's going to fight Jayce about this. Something Jayce missed about Viktor. His attitude and willingness to use his sharp tongue as a weapon. He'll let Viktor yell as much as he wants later.

"Please. You trust me right. Never mind it doesn't matter." Too much time has already been wasted. Viktor will hate him for it but Jayce is going to scoop him up and run.

And he does. Voices around him raise and demand to know what he's doing? To stop this nonsense! None louder than Viktor who looks like he wants to bodily harm Jayce at this very moment. Jayce hears Viktors cane hit the ground but there's no going back for it even as Viktor yells about that too.

"I'll make you a new one! Please I just have a horrible feeling, we need to go Viktor!" Something in Jayces voice or expression must get through Viktors outrage, some of Jayces desperation and fear because he stops trying to fight his way out of the hold he's in. Making it so much easier to run with him.

How much time left? Jayce can't think. They need to get at least one floor down. More would be better but no matter what Jayce will use his own body to cover and protect Viktor if needed.

This is inspired from a fic I read but can't find for the life of me to credit. I searched 7 pages of my ao3 history. I wonder if they deleted it. That one ends differently. I just really wanted to write Jayce picking up Viktor and getting tf outta there asap. No time to bicker and fight ur boy Jayce, just run ! He can hit you with his newly made cane you gift him later!

Anyways these guys totally survive, Jayce takes them like two floors down, are in a landing of the stairwell where he stumbles and drops Viktor when everything starts to shake but makes sure to cover him from any danger. They are A-OK tho, not a scratch. Only Jayces wounded pride and guilt that he dropped Viktor. He probably teared up about it and Viktor tried to be comforting because Jayce did just save his life. But that sentiment only goes so far when he thinks Jayce is just being dumb.

[cherry-smokes]

My Strange Lady

Life has thrown many curveballs at Steve, so he shouldn't be so surprised when he begins to grow fond of a very peculiar librarian. Paring: Single dad!Steve Harrington x oddball!reader Word Count: 3.1K Note: this is a reader insert, I just don't really use y/n in my work so instead the reader goes by the nickname Birdie here.

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Steve always wanted to be a father. He had a plan, fall head over heels in love and have a big wedding. While his big house always gave him the creeps as a kid because of how empty it was, Steve wanted to fill his own with kids and a dog if they wanted one. The halls wouldn’t feel haunted, they would be full of memories. Crawling with proof of life there. Crayon marks on the walls, stains on the carpets, baby gates and everything. While he didn’t get the wedding, or the big house, he did get the crayons and the stains. He got Robbie.

His sweet baby. Who came out with the same head of hair as his daddy and an even bigger heart. Steve made sure to let him feel as deeply as he wanted to. He knows how long it can take a person to come out of that cold shell when they’ve been conditioned to think that feelings are a sign of weakness.

Steve wouldn’t trade their little life for the world. Of course he still spends endless hours at night fretting over whether or not he’s good enough to fill both roles in Robbie’s life. Dad guilt. You can’t escape it, but Robbie is healthy and happy and so very loved.

When Robbie started sleeping in his own room Steve struggled with it more than he did. He would wait for him to fall asleep and lay on the floor next to his small bed with a pillow and a blanket. He did this until his shoulder started perpetually aching and then he realized maybe it was time to stop.

Steve has tried to devote every waking moment of his life for the past five years to Robbie. He’s on his own here, so as much as he wanted to be a stay at home dad Steve took up a job at the hospital working the front desk. It paid well enough and gave them both good health insurance. So he braved through putting Robbie in daycare and tried his best not to spend his day worrying about how he was doing. If kids were being nice to him, if he was being nice to others. If he was eating his lunch and if the adults at the daycare center were being sweet to him. It’s a little easier now that he’s in kindergarten. Steve’s more used to the dynamic of Robbie being away for a few hours a day. Steve's met his teacher, a nice older lady with glasses that make her eyes look buggy and a kind soul. Robbie adores her, he makes her drawings with messy handwriting misspelling his appreciation for her. He’s good like that. He loves sharing, sharing his feelings and his snacks. He gives out compliments like they’re nothing but the best part about it is that he really means them.

He’s such a kind kid. That’s probably why he almost cried when he told Steve he forgot to return some books he got at the library and now they’re overdue. It’s four thirty in the afternoon and the library closes at five. While Steve tried convincing him that it would be okay if they returned them tomorrow morning before school, Robbie wouldn’t budge.

The poor guy just felt so guilty.

So now Steve’s rushing into the library hand in hand with Robbie ten minutes before they close, praying to whoever will listen that the cranky librarian Debby isn’t cruel enough to turn them away. He prays even harder that she won’t scold Robbie for an overdue return. Instead of Debby he spots a much younger woman standing at the desk stacking books neatly into a big leather bag. It’s bulky and she pulls things out and puts them back in as if she’s playing Tetris with her books, glasses cases, hand sanitizers, and various other miscellaneous objects. She has a deadpanned look. She kind of reminds him of a younger, much prettier version of Debby.

Her hair is in a messy updo. She’s in all black, in an off the shoulder sweater with some frilly lacy shorts and tights. He catches a glimpse of her shoes from under the desk, bright red ballet flats. The amount of rings she wears make clinking sounds against each other as she sorts out her bag.

“Excuse me?”

Her head snaps up. He gets a good look at her finally, and she really is much prettier than Debby.

“Returning books?”

Steve snaps out of his daze and nods his head.

“Yeah, sorry we’re so late I know you guys are about to close but my boy just really wanted to return his books.”

The woman shrugs as she moves to sit down by the boxy dated computer on the desk. “We don’t close until five. It’s four fifty two, you’re allowed to come in until five. I’m getting paid regardless of if people come in or not.”

He expects her to smile, or give him any inclination that she’s trying to make them feel better about the situation. Instead she just has the same somewhat bored look on her face and he realizes she’s just saying it because it’s true.

He hopes his confusion isn’t visible on his face as he hands over the books along with Robbie’s library card. She grabs them and begins logging them into the system. She looks at the card and then to Robbie.

“Are you Robert?”

The boy nods.

“These books were due yesterday.”

The boy tucks into his father’s side in shame.

“I’m sorry.”

Steve’s about to tell her off. Scold her for making a kid feel bad about something that was an honest mistake but she speaks up before he can.

“Thank you. Deadlines are probably only implemented on kids your age to try to build up a routine of responsibility and time management. It’s probably a good sign you found it so important to turn them in before the end of the day today. Most kids wait at least a week before they bother coming in here.”

Robbie looks just as confused as Steve. The woman looks between the two of them. Something lights up in her eyes as she notices that their eyebrows scrunch the same way. She’s not made of stone. It’s sweet, and she decides to just explain what she meant.

“This was very responsible of you Robert.”

He eases up, and suddenly he isn’t hiding into his father’s side out of shame but instead out of shyness.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She finishes logging the books in and stacks the books on the return cart next to her. She spends a second organizing them from thickest to thinnest, which isn’t a huge difference since they’re children’s books but it’s curious to Steve that she takes the time to do it. When she turns around she holds out the library card to Robbie.

“Robert.”

He reaches out to grab it before speaking up. “My name is Robbie.”

“It says Robert on the card.”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Would you like me to change it in the system?”

Robbie shrugs, then you shrug and as Steve’s about to thank you to walk away but Robbie speaks up once more.

“You’re nicer than Miss Debby.”

You think about this for a moment.

“Deborah’s old. People get mean when they’re old.”

“Why aren’t you mean?”

Steve thinks you might turn mean at his son’s insinuation that you’re old. But for what seems to be the tenth time in the span of the last few minutes, you surprise him again.

“I’m not as old as Deborah. Maybe I’ll get mean when I’m her age. We’ll have to wait and see.”

Robby finally seems at peace with this answer and says his thank you’s once more. Your rings clink again as you wave to him. Steve says goodbye and thank you quickly as Robby starts rushing out with a tight grip on his hand.

“We have to go fast, she's closing!”

He looks behind him and he swears for a second, he almost sees your lips quirk up. Maybe it was the light or his lack of sleep catching up to him that made it seem that way. As they walk to the car Steve can’t help but realize he never got your name.

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Steve loved when weekends came around. He always asked for time off, wanting to spend them with Robbie. On days where he has to go into work he’ll usually have Robbie stay with whoever’s available. Usually Robin or Hopper. To Steve’s surprise Hopper fights for his Robbie time like he’s fighting for his life. He loves that kid almost as much as Steve does. Almost.

Luckily, this was a free weekend for Steve. He savored getting to sleep in a little. He always wakes up feeling like he could use a few more minutes of sleep. He’s restless, wakes up multiple times in a night and tosses and turns too much, for multiple reasons. One of them is that his bed just feels too big. He’s been thinking about getting a smaller one but they’re expensive, he’d rather save the money for when Robbie grows and needs a bigger bed himself. His extra few minutes of sleep are interrupted by a sudden weight next to him.

He feels him before he sees him. Small digits poking at his face and whispering. “Daaaad. Wake up. Rise and…and uh…”

“And shine?”

Steve’s voice is rough with sleep. He peeks an eye open to look at his son. His hair is wild, sticking up in different directions and his pajamas are askew, one pant leg higher than the other. Steve’s heart swells as he opens his arm to bring Robbie in for a morning cuddle.

“Mornin’ buddy”

Robbie tries to mimic his fathers gruff voice, but it comes out a little warbled when he replies. “Morning buddy.”

Steve can’t help but chuckle. He ruffles up his son’s hair before asking what he wants for breakfast. Robbie hums, and makes a big show out of thinking about it as if Steve doesn’t already know the answer.

Weekdays mean quick breakfasts. Eggs, toast and jam, pre-cut fruits, things that can get them both fed and out the door. Weekends mean pancakes. Steve makes them extra special for his kid. Uses fruits to make little faces in an attempt to convince him that eating healthy can be fun. It works like a charm, Steve feels pretty smart for that.

Robbie eats like his dad. He just about inhales his food and Steve, like a hypocrite, has to ask him to slow down through a mouthful of pancakes himself. Robbie, being the angel he is, starts chewing slowly. Probably too slow, but Steve has learned to pick his battles. Robbie waits until he’s done chewing to speak up.

“Can we go to the book house today?”

Steve loves the terms his son uses for things. He gets the point across so Steve’s never really felt the need to correct him. Not yet at least, he just wants him to be a kid a little longer. Before he starts wanting to spend more time with his friends than his old man. So naturally Steve agrees to take him to the book house.

They walk in and browse the shelves for a bit, Robbie picks up some children’s books and then Steve walks him over to the ‘grown up’ shelves so he can find something somewhat interesting to read. He’s never been a big fan of reading for fun, but lately he finds it’s better to read in bed than stare at the ceiling thinking about every past, present, or future thing in his life.

He looked away for a second. Just one second. He was reading the inside cover of Frankenstein, when he turned to make a joke to Robbie about how it would be too scary for himself, he was gone. Everyone talks about how your stomach drops when you lose sight of your kid. Steve’s didn’t just drop, he felt like he was about to throw up all of those smiley pancakes he ate this morning.

He rushes out of the isle they were in and turns the corner. Just before he was about to start screaming like a madman he spots two familiar heads of hair over by the check-out desk. Steve can’t even find it within himself to be mad at him for roaming off, he’s just happy he didn’t get lost. Or worse.

He starts walking towards the pair, seemingly in a very intense conversation with each other. He wants to interrupt and beg Robbie to never scare him like that. Maybe give him a quick lesson about the importance of not running off, but he’s derailed when he gets close enough to hear the conversation.

“-it’s my auntie Robin’s name, but-but with different letters at the end because I’m a boy and she’s a girl.”

“Robin can be a gender neutral name. It’s a type of bird, not all Robin’s are girls.”

“What kind of bird is that?”

“It’s a Robin. They have a red-well kind of red, kind of orange. Like a brick colored chest. They sound like this-“ she then proceeds to whistle in a way that really did sound like a Robin. “You’ve probably seen them around, or heard them. They’re pretty common.”

Robbie’s jaw drops. “You can speak bird?!”

Steve finally walks up, drawing your attention away from his carbon copy of a son and to the original model instead. He tries to find something casual to say. Or clever. Anything really, but your hair is styled differently than it had been the other day and you’re wearing a pretty blue cardigan. He gets distracted and you beat him to the punch.

“Hi Steve.”

He waves and before he realizes he never told you his name.

“Uh- hi. Sorry I didn’t introduce myself properly the other day but at least Robbie did it for me.”

“He didn’t. I looked you up in the system. There’s only two Harrington’s on there so I assumed the second one was you.”

Steve feels something warm crawl up his neck. Something he probably hasn’t felt in the last five years. “You looked me up?”

“I got curious.”

You’re so…honest. Like you could really care less about niceties and ‘polite’ manners like introducing yourself to people. Not in a rude way, just in a sort of…odd way. To him at least. Maybe some people wouldn’t find it all that strange. People who didn’t have parents like his, maybe that’s why Robbie didn’t seem to mind.

“Dad-dad the lady speaks bird!”

“Bud you should call her by her name-“ “I don’t speak with birds, I just mimic them.”

You speak over each other, except you finish your sentence and Steve cuts himself off. He reaches a hand out to shake yours. “Sorry, we didn’t catch your name?”

Your hand reaches out to him, and he feels a spark shoot up his arm. An actual spark, static probably. You both flinch away and you give the softest laugh while gesturing to your sleeve. “Sorry. Wool.”

He laughs, a breathless thing and he and Robbie stand patiently waiting for an answer to his, kind of, question.

You stare back at them for a moment before coming to your senses. “Oh right!” You give them your name and it dances around Steve’s head for a moment. His son saves him any embarrassment of looking like a total doofus.

“Is it a nickname like Robbie?”

You shake your head no. “Nope. Just my full government name. People usually acquire nicknames from loved ones or in honor of something meaningful they did.”

“Meanful?”

“It means something special buddy.”

His son makes an ‘ooooooh’ sound before dramatically gasping and throwing his arms on your desk. Steve watches you freeze suddenly, like you were finally caught off guard. For some reason you can’t figure out what to do other than place your arms on the table as well, parallel to his own. “You just did something me-meanf-ugh! Special! We can call you uh…uhhh-“

Steve decides to take the reins on this one.

“Birdie?”

“YES!”

Robbie dramatically throws himself at Steve and starts shaking him. He realizes now maybe chocolate syrup wasn’t a smart choice on the pancakes. “You’re so smarty pants!”

Steve pats his son on the head endearingly as he thanks him for his compliment.

“Do you know a lot about birds?”

You look at him when you realize he’s talking to you and nod.

“They’re really fascinating creatures. For being so small they’re actually quite smart. Some Bowerbird’s actually build nests that are reminiscent of auditoriums to make their calls reverberate off the walls. They also decorate their nests in very meticulous ways to attract partners. It really begs the question of whether birds are able to have aesthetic opinions.”

"Huh, strange."

"Yeah. I have a bird watching club here but it's usually just me. Sometimes Deborah joins, but I think it's just to avoid telling people where to find the self-help section. They usually end up telling her their life story. I think people assume librarians are close enough to therapists but Deborah is the last person I would go to."

Steve can't help but let out a real laugh. It comes from deep in his chest and escapes him before he can stop it. You smile, or at least you begin to before you stop it promptly.

"Can we be in your club?"

Robbie's never shown any interest in birds. Steve is thankful he suddenly is, because a full smile actually breaks through from you. Steve isn't sure if it's the air conditioning in the library, like the static from your cardigan, or if it's just you. Regardless, your smile is followed by shivers up Steve's spine.

"Sure, it's a public library. So it's technically also a public club, anyone can join. It might be boring but the garden is nice." You lean down towards your bag and pull out a crumpled flyer. It's not colorful. Plain white paper with plain black lettering that states "Bird Watch Club, Sunday mornings" along with the library's address and what looks like a hand drawn sketch of a bird. He couldn't say which one but it was pretty. He thinks the flyer looks a little off-putting. Kind of like it's a trap to lure someone in. When he sees a much softer, kind of happy look on your face, the flyer doesn't seem so scary. You're like the Mona Lisa, not frowning but not quite smiling.

"We'll see you tomorrow morning then."

─────────── · 𓅫 · ───────────

a/n: this ended up wayyyyyy longer than I planned. I'll probably have more parts to come. I've gotten attached to Robbie.

[mvmnbnv]

Things I noticed about caitvi

Emotional manipulation

In act 1 vi is practically cast as a bad person if she didn't join forces with caitlyn. She tells her things like she needs to wear a badge to show that "not all of zaun supports jinx" and implies the only way for her to be helpful is to become "one of us". Then proceeds to appeal to vis guilt and tells her she thought vi was on piltovers side...then ofc she doesn't care about vis consent at all because she enlists her anyway

Cold shouldering

If cait thinks she can make vi do something she'll give her affection. Want vi to kill her sister and not ask about your shitty behavior? kiss her. Want vi to enter a war after being fatally wounded? Hold her hand. Want to know if vi is still in for the long haul despite all the bullshit you've put her through? Lay on her shoulder. Vis never given genuine affection outside of doing things for cait. And we all saw them violent reaction she got when she didn't do things caits way

DARVO

I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to properly place that scene in episode 8 when vi and cait argue but this pretty much sums it up. She tells vi to calm down when she's rightfully angry, and snaps, yells, and throws something after being called out for her own behavior. Then has the nerve to get onto vi for not trusting her after everything she'd done to her and zaun...

All this shit happens and people refuse to see this ship for what it is...atp if you like it fine, but when stuff like this is playing out on screen, don't expect everyone to let it slide. These are all signs of an abusive relationship, and you add the fact that she has indeed hit her more than once....wtf is anyone supposed to gather from that

[asktheritochampion]

Soo... What's your true opinion on Teba, Tulin, and Saki? :)

Why are you so intent on ruining every half decent relation I have and obliterating my dignity in the process?

Tulin is the only Rito in the past hundred years who has been able to harness the winds as I can. Not only I am unbelievably proud of the kid, but this ability we - and only we - share, connects us. I wish to train him everything I know. I feel immensely protective of him and would give my very life to protect him – not that I wouldn’t for most people I suppose. I had a brother once by blood; Tulin is more of a brother to me than he ever was.

The wind connects our souls, and we are both her children.

Teba is the most phenomenal Rito Warrior I have ever met, past or present.

The intensity of his training is admirable, even to me. While he may never have mastered the skies, his archery skills are so advanced that I believe that if he didn’t hold back, he would defeat even me in a contest of skill – and that is not an assumption I would award lightly.

Not only is he an unmatched warrior but a wise and confident leader to our people, and an incredible father to his son. He is the Rito all men should aspire to be. I admire him so much that it’s embarrassing. I feel pathetically desperate to make him proud and I don’t even know why.

He told me once that he would be proud to call me a son and I’ve been in an emotional war with myself ever since; both wanting to cling onto my title as his worshipped hero from the past, but also crumbling beneath the childish desire to feel wanted and loved. The notion should be terribly patronising shouldn't it?! I’m the Rito Champion and an adult grown man - I do not need a father or a parent of any kind. So why am I incapable of thinking of him without calling him dad in my mind? Why is it that all I want is for him to tell me he's proud of me all the time?! Why do I need that?! What is wrong with me?!

Then there’s Saki.

Ever since I awoke from my passing, I feel as if I’ve been broken. Consumed with grief and regret, remorse and guilt and devastation. I lost everyone I ever knew, I never even got to apologise for failing them, it has been tearing me apart from the inside out. At first she took me into her home as a kindness, as most anyone would do when a Rito turns up without a roof over their head – but even during my very worst days, in moments where I’ve wished I could have remained dead, where I’ve been unable to eat or even rise from my hammock like a useless, pathetic fool, she’s been nothing but patient and kind to me.

From day one, she’s been treating me as if I were a beloved family member - even when at my lowest moments I’ve been nothing but rude or disruptive or downright pitiful. Nobody has ever given me that kind of endless, unconditional care, not even as a chick. I pretend to myself and to any who pry that my family died in some heroic battle, but I’m not dense, I know they left me behind because I was unwanted – that perhaps I was simply too much effort for too little gain. I’m constantly afraid that one day I’ll awaken and be asked to leave because I am simply too inconvenient - too rude and unpleasant, that I’m too intense to put up with – that somehow, despite being the best, that I’m still not good enough.

I could move out at any time really, it wouldn’t take long to build my own nest. But she...she smells and sounds like the vaguest memories of my own mother and being close to her makes me feel safe in a way I’ve never felt before and I just...I don’t know how to handle going back to not feeling like that anymore.

Everything is terrible and I just... want my mom.

…And thanks to you, the lot of them will likely never speak to me again after this mortifying admission.

Now if you don't mind, I need to go and hide under a rock and never show my face in the Village again.

[6/10 🧪✨]

[techhiz]

Can do Resquest TFA Longarm/Shockwave with femme cybertronian reader, where both are married and the reader is a housewife and is also pregnant and she doesn't know that Longarm is a decepticon spy but one day when she goes to the elite guard because Longarm forgot something but she discovers him in his true form and Longarm kidnaps her and puts him in the nemesis where later Bumblebee helps her out, and Y/N visits Shockwave in the prison letting him see the Sparkling

Deceptive Ties.

Y/N hummed softly as she moved about the cozy quarters she shared with Longarm Prime, her sparkmate. Life as a housewife in the heart of Cybertron wasn’t always exciting, but it was filled with moments of warmth, like preparing his energon cubes or decorating their space with trinkets and mementos. And now, with their sparkling on the way, her days were filled with a sense of purpose and quiet joy.

She placed a hand on her gently rounded abdomen, a smile tugging at her lips. Their sparkling’s arrival was only a few cycles away, and the anticipation filled her spark with both excitement and nerves.

“Y/N,” Longarm’s calm and familiar voice called from the doorway, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Longarm! You’re back earlier than usual!” she exclaimed, moving to greet him. He smiled, his gentle demeanor masking the darker truth that lay beneath.

“I needed to grab something before heading to a meeting with Ultra Magnus. Important Elite Guard matters,” he said, leaning in to place a kiss on her helm.

“Take care, love,” she said softly, watching as he left.

Hours later, Y/N realized Longarm had forgotten a data pad. “He’s always so organized. This isn’t like him,” she mused. Deciding it might be important, she resolved to take it to him.

Arriving at the Elite Guard headquarters, she was met with the usual pleasantries and directed toward Longarm’s office. As she approached, she noticed voices inside and paused, not wanting to interrupt.

Her optics widened as the conversation unfolded.

“I’ll report to Megatron shortly,” the voice said, its tone chillingly different from Longarm’s usual calm cadence.

Y/N peeked in and gasped silently. Before her stood a figure she barely recognized—Longarm, but in a new form, darker and more menacing. His frame was bulkier, his optic a glowing crimson. Shockwave.

She stumbled back, unable to process what she had seen. The mech she had bonded her spark to, the father of her sparkling, was a Decepticon spy.

The slight noise of her movement alerted Shockwave, who swiftly turned. His optic locked onto hers.

“Y/N…” His voice was devoid of pretense now, cold and calculating.

Before she could flee, Shockwave closed the distance between them, grabbing her wrist.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” he growled.

“Let me go!” she pleaded, struggling against his grip.

“I can’t,” he said flatly, his optic softening for just a moment before hardening again. “You know too much now.”

Despite her protests, Shockwave used his abilities to create a ground bridge, pulling her through to the Nemesis. The dark, imposing warship was a stark contrast to the home they had shared.

“You lied to me!” she cried, her voice trembling with anger and betrayal. “Everything we had—was it all a facade?”

Shockwave’s expression flickered with guilt. “Not everything,” he admitted. “I did love you, Y/N. I still do. But my allegiance to the Decepticon cause comes first.”

Her spark ached at his words, but she refused to let him see her break.

The Decepticons were quick to isolate her in a secure chamber, though Shockwave ensured she was treated with care. Despite his actions, he couldn’t bear to see harm come to her or the sparkling.

Days turned into weeks. Y/N grew more withdrawn, her spark heavy with sadness. She spent her time speaking softly to her unborn sparkling, finding solace in the life she carried.

One day, she overheard the Decepticons planning an attack. Determined to escape and warn the Autobots, she used the little freedom Shockwave allowed her to send a coded distress signal.

Bumblebee was the first to intercept the signal. His energetic nature and determination drove him to act quickly. With the help of Optimus and the team, they launched a daring mission to retrieve Y/N from the Nemesis.

The battle was fierce, but Bumblebee managed to locate Y/N’s chamber.

“Y/N! I’m here to get you out!” he called.

Relief flooded her systems as she ran to him. “Thank you, Bumblebee,” she whispered.

Shockwave appeared, blocking their path.

“Leave her, Bumblebee. She’s safer here,” he said, his voice void of emotion but his optic betraying his internal conflict.

“She belongs with the Autobots!” Bumblebee retorted, shielding Y/N.

A tense standoff ensued, but Optimus arrived, forcing Shockwave to retreat.

Back at the Autobot base, Y/N was safe but emotionally shattered. The weight of Shockwave’s betrayal and the safety of her sparkling consumed her thoughts.

Weeks later, Shockwave was captured during a mission and imprisoned in a high-security facility.

Y/N visited him one last time, her sparkling cradled in her arms.

“This is your sparkling,” she said softly, her optics filled with sorrow.

Shockwave’s crimson gaze softened as he looked at the tiny mechling. “I’m… sorry,” he said, his voice breaking.

“You should have chosen us,” she replied, her voice firm but filled with pain.

As she turned to leave, the sparkling cooed softly, unaware of the weight of the moment.

Though life was never the same, Y/N found strength in her sparkling and the support of her Autobot family. The past lingered, but she vowed to protect her child from the shadows that had once consumed her life.

Shockwave remained a prisoner, haunted by the life he could have had.

[alwayslurkinginthebackground]

Sleepless - A "Kissing You" Drabble

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader Warnings: I'm gonna go with M. There's brief mention of spice here, but nothing exceptionally graphic. Still, it's mentioned. Word Count: 1279 Prompt #33: Soft kisses while cuddling in bed. a/n: For Frankie's Wife. I hope you feel better soon. <3

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You can't sleep.

It's not that you haven't tried to sleep, because you have. You strategically put your phone on the other side of the room hours ago, sprayed your pillow with a lavender mist that was supposed to help you relax, made a cup of chamomile tea, and settled into your bed with a book to wind down for the evening. You did everything you were supposed to do, and yet hours later you're still tossing and turning beneath the down comforter that simultaneously leaves you too hot and too cold at the same time. With a huff, you turn once more to glance at the clock beside your bed, the only light you've allowed to permeate your space reading 1:58 a.m.

Five hours. 300 fucking minutes spent naming countries that start with each letter of the alphabet and counting metaphorical sheep in a last-ditch effort to get some rest.

At this point though you know there's no reason to continue frustrating yourself by staring at the dark depths of the ceiling above your head, so you flip on the TV, squinting as the light blinds you momentarily. It doesn't take you long to scroll through the channels, clicking the button repeatedly until you pass something familiar and hit the back button.

Minutes later you've retrieved your phone, Frankie's number dialed and the line ringing.

"Cariño?" Frankie questions, his voice rough. It cracks slightly as he continues, "are you okay?"

The guilt hits you instantly, the realization that normal people are actually asleep at two in the morning settling in and you quickly backtrack. "Shit, sorry. You were sleeping."

He clears his throat on the other end of the line, "No, no. It's fine. What's wrong?"

You're suddenly silent, and you can hear the quiet rustle of his bedsheets as he shifts his position. He likes to sleep on his stomach, usually draped over your torso with his face pressed into the valley between your breasts, but you'd be willing to be that he's on his back now, raking a hand through his mess of hair in an attempt to wake up for your benefit.

"I can't sleep," you finally blurt out, "and I turned on the TV and When Harry Met Sally is on and it just made me think of you and..."

"Hey, slow down for a second," he laughs, the sound of his voice ringing in your ear and immediately soothing you in a way the chamomile never can. There's a beat of silence and then suddenly you hear the soft hum of his own TV turning on. "What channel?"

A smile creeps across your face as you tell him, Meg Ryan's voice echoing through the phone and matching the way she's talking about Casablanca on your own screen. "You're not actually watching it, are you?"

"Figured it was better than that dream I had again where I'm making love and the Olympic judges are watching. I'd nailed the..."

"Frankie shut up," you giggle as he continues to repeat the line he's had memorized since the first time you made him watch the film. He has you in a laughing fit in seconds, restarting the line over in time with the movie when the scene plays soon after. You discuss your hunt for the perfect white sweater, talk about how Billy Crystal looks superior with a beard, and debate the legitimacy of how women actually sound, which mostly turns into Frankie reminding you about the way he made you scream last weekend when he had you pressed against the kitchen counter.

By the time New Year's Eve rolls around at the end of the movie, he's quoting line for line again, except he replaces each of Harry's examples with what he loves about you. That he loves how 80 degrees is too warm for you, and that you always check the menu and know what you're ordering eight hours before arriving at the restaurant. You're faintly aware of him reminding you about the way your eyes crinkle at the edges when he makes you smile and how he loves that you smell like lavender, even though you actually hate the scent and just won't admit it. When the channel starts to roll into Sleepless in Seattle, your eyes have drifted shut, letting the sound of your boyfriend narrating the movie lull you to sleep.

When you wake hours later, you're blinded by the sunlight shining through the curtains and directly onto your face, heating your skin. Your hazy mind struggles to remember if you added your weighted blanket to your bed the night before, only when you shift to block the sun you realize that you most definitely did not.

"Frankie?"

He groans softly, nestling his face further into the soft fabric of your t-shirt. "Still asleep," he mumbles, "someone kept me up all night."

You run your fingers through his hair, pushing the unruly curls back from his forehead. "I don't seem to remember you being in my bed when I fell asleep."

His gaze is warm when he shifts to rest his chin on your chest. "You fell asleep on me," he explains, "and then I couldn't sleep."

It's impossible not to laugh. "That still doesn't explain how you ended up in my bed, Francisco."

Frankie smirks as he presses kiss after kiss along your body until he's rolling on his back at your side, pulling you against him and guiding your lips to his gently. You sigh as you melt into him, lazily matching his rhythm.

"You still haven't answered my question," you remind him, your lips still brushing against his. He draws a smile to your face as he guides you back in, his hand leading your motions as he kisses you again.

"Maybe I just needed to be with you to fall back asleep," he explains once you've tucked your head into the crook of his neck. "Or maybe..." he continues slowly, his lips tracing along your forehead as he speaks, "maybe when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

It takes a moment, your mind turning his words over and over in his head until you start to realize that maybe he isn't just quoting Billy Crystal anymore. "Frankie?"

He hums, but you know he's grinning before you even pull back to see his expression. "Yes, love?"

It feels like your heart is going to pound out of your chest as you will yourself to ask the next question. "Are you just quoting the movie again?"

Your boyfriend seems to consider this for a moment before he shifts again, reaching over to the table on the side of the bed he's claimed as his own. You wait, moving to sit with your legs crossed as you watch him retrieve something from the drawer. He turns back to you, "I was going to do this differently, but..."

He doesn't get a chance to finish the sentence because you're on him immediately, hands cupping his cheeks and holding him as close as possible as you seal your lips to his. "Yes," you whisper, just a breath away when you both come up for air.

"I haven't even asked yet," Frankie laughs.

"Doesn't matter," you return, because it's the easiest answer you've ever given even without the question to precede it. "You don't need to ask me if I want to spend the rest of my life with you because you know you make it impossible to hate you. Which means," you kiss him again, "the answer will always be yes."

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[massy2ly]

Jojo, please, stop. Who hurt you, dude?

I can’t do it anymore. I need a minute, a long one. But honestly, I’m holding onto a fragile hope that THK flipped the infamous episode 11 curse to episode 10. I can’t survive another Wednesday of heartbreak and tears. Just… let them get married in peace. I’m on my knees here, begging.

Also, I’ll share more later, but I need to say this now: To those getting insecure on behalf of Style or thinking Fadel is still in love with his ex… take a breath. Do you have any idea how much love it takes to still hold onto someone—clinging to their words, their hope, instead of believing you don’t deserve what they’re offering you? If I were in Fadel’s shoes, I’d despise myself for even wanting that happiness with Style, knowing an innocent man I once loved died because of his association with me, and the one I am currently obsessed with is under the same risk. I say "association" because it wasn’t Fadel’s fault, but the tragedy followed him and touched his ex, too.

Fadel’s love for Style is deeper than we can fully understand. As much as we've seen, there’s still so much Fadel has kept locked inside, out of fear and hesitation. But I believe in episode 11, we’ll see him let go of that and open up. He loves him so much that despite all the guilt, grief, and fear, he still chose to trust in Style’s strength, devotion, and hope. It only took a few minutes for him to give in, and in that time, he realized that trusting Style was worth every ounce of his pain. The way he couldn’t speak for a few seconds, scared and frozen in place as he took in Style’s face before breaking down and asking him to leave. The way he gaze at him—mesmerized, like he can’t believe someone as perfect as Style could love him that much. The way he clings to him, like Style is his lifeline. The way he folded so quickly because as selfless as he is, he just can’t let go of Style. He knew he wouldn’t be able to, and that’s why he asked Style to do it for him. Style is Fadel’s weakness, his strength, his new reason for living, and the love of his life. There’s no question about how he feels.

As for Style, y’all better brace yourselves once my long minute ends. I’ve loved him from the start, and right now, I’m feeling everything for him to an unhealthy degree. It’s a hard position for him, no doubt, but when you love someone as much as he loves Fadel, their pain, their tears, their needs will always come first. Style is emotionally intelligent enough to understand why Fadel is so shattered. As he said, he gets why Fadel’s been closed off. He understands the weight he carries and gives him the space he needs to grieve. He doesn’t doubt for a second that Fadel loves him, and he knows that, once he has the time to process, he’ll stop holding back. That love will come flooding out, just like it did by the end of this episode.

[4lexnilsen]

“stop the fucking car,  helena.   i’m done playing whatever game you’re playing.   i’m tired of repeating the same thing over and over and over again only to feel like i’m talking to a wall.”   fingers carding through his locks,  alex has never been quite so frustrated.   this whole psychological bullshit means absolutely nothing —   he’s NOT a bully,  he never makes fun of her,  and as long as she’s respectful towards him and his friends,  that’s the kind of energy he sends out to her in return.   she won’t guilt him into feeling like the villain when he’s simply defending the ones he cares about.   “fine.   don’t elaborate on anything,  keep throwing random diagnosis and insults at me,  see where that takes you.”   how very mature of her.   he rubs his temples,  wishing they’d just explode and end his suffering at this point.

“oh?   i’m revolting?   but it’s perfectly okay for you to sexualize me?   you need to get these double standards sorted out.   don’t expect me to just sit here and put up with all this infidelity talk without saying anything back.”   she literally told him that he was screwing poppy!   how’s that any different?   jesus christ,  how could he ever consider helena his true friend?   she’s an attention-hungry brat,  that’s what she is.   as soon as he focuses on someone else,  he gets accused of cheating and labeled as a narcissistic asshole.   “i’m very happy with my life,  thank you for your concern,  though.”   she’s the only one giving him headaches and causing any frustration in his life.   “do you seriously have to be the most important person in every room?   why do you expect me to prioritize you over sarah or poppy?   what makes you think you’re better than everyone else?”   she loves to talk about his parents,  but at least ed and elizabeth nilsen didn’t raise a spoiled princess who needs the world to revolve around her.

“next thing you’ll be calling me is a sociopath.   i’m bracing myself for yet another unprompted diagnosis that’s nothing but bullshit.”   she can never elaborate on what exactly the criteria is,  how exactly is he so damaged.   does she have a degree in psychology?   clearly not.   she’s probably seen a few episodes of the good doctor and suddenly is an expert.   “i could care less about your daddy’s money,  but if i’m a sad,  broken little boy then you’re just a spoiled fucking brat.”   he rolls his eyes and lets go of the steering wheel,  grabbing the door handle instead and trying to open the door even as the car continues to speed down the interstate.   “I WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE.”   before she crashes into a truck or something.   before she digs up more painful memories from his past just to poke holes in them and psychoanalyze his ways.

she infuriates him because she sees right through him —   he would have to have a death wish to act on his words and pull on the brake.   he won’t say it out loud,  but she’s right and doing so would surely send them flying,  spinning and straight up crashing.   he doesn’t want to risk his life or health,  and as much as he despises hell-lena’s guts at the moment,  he also doesn’t want to gamble with hers.   he lets go of the brake wordlessly,  just glaring at her,  pale blue eyes growing ice-cold.   as she begins to accelerate even more,  god,  he doesn’t want to know how fast they’re going,  he does the opposite of what he assumes she wants to see and does his best to appear relaxed.   unbothered.   fuck her and her stupid mind games.   he hopes she gets pulled over,  prays daddy will have to bail her out.   “WHY are you pinching me?!   why is it okay for you to hurt me but a big deal when i defend myself from your abuse?”   his thigh still stings where she’s pinched it,  and he’s sure there’s a bruise forming already beneath the denim.   how’s any of this fair?

“are you fucking serious right now?   are you seriously asking me why i don’t want to show up at my girlfriend’s workplace with a psych ward escapee?”   he can already imagine sarah’s face,  knows how confused she’ll be and would rather avoid making a scene around her colleagues.   helena doesn’t have the right to ruin his relationship or question his honesty and loyalty —   it’s between him and sarah,  has nothing to do with her.   “are you seriously threatening me with prison right now?   when you’re the one breaking every law,  going over the speed limit,  playing with our lives for the fun of it?   that’s how you get what you want,  isn’t it?   first,  you try to impress people,  bribe them into being your puppets and when that doesn’t work out,  you show your true colors and threaten them.   lovely manipulation techniques.”   but it does shush him up.   he’s a man twice her size and she does have enough money to hire lawyers who’d ruin his future in less than five minutes.   “i never want to see you again after this,”   is all he says before tossing her phone back into her lap,  refraining from aiming for her head instead,  folding his arms over his chest and looking out the window.   fuck her.

"just like you make fun of me!? ALL the time? maybe i'm tired of just taking it.. that seems to piss off the actual bullies off really well every time that happens though. they hate it when their victims get tired of it, so it gets turned on them. you're just proving it." people who are kind, finally get tired of being kind after being stomped on and then looked at like the bad guy EVERY single time... this situation, no different. and it's shocking most of all... because she didn't think he would act like this, out of all people. "i've already told you!" she isn't explaining it again and again, when she's already did that... it clearly won't matter so there's no use. and at this point, he's starting to successfully make her feel crazy, almost tricking her brain it really is just all in her head? maybe this girl is absolutely innocent, maybe it's just alex who's been causing the weird vibe. no, not when there's so much proof, it's not her fault he's blind to it. she can't let him manipulate her.

"that's so degrading. you're revolting." if he can talk like that, demean her, sexualize her, how is it not likely that he's just been attempting to be her friend so she can be another poppy? at this point, revealing what a totally different person he's revealed himself in being, helena doesn't trust it anymore. that would make sense, would it not? why he doesn't seem to value her as his friend, like he does his other one who clearly doesn't care to give him what he wants? "maybe it's you taking out your frustrations, that's why i'm not that important. that's why you've revealed your true colors. i get it now." because she's not initiating things in the way he wants her to so she can be another side whore. "clearly i do, since you fit EVERY criteria of one." the sometimes nice to her, sometimes terrible to her part. thinks he's superior part. lack of empathy part. envy of others part. "is that your problem with me? you hate me because i come from a family with money? you really ARE just like everybody else," tears flying out of her eyes now, rosy painted cheeks flushed with heated rage. "say what? putting words in my mouth? but sure, since you said it.. it must be true." something must've made him so emotionally unavailable and that must be the start of it.

eyes briefly flickering from the road to the brake, she's almost at the exit she needs to fly down to sarah's auditorium that she's putting the puzzle pieces together from the small glimpse of the name from the post she managed to dig up before he snatched it away. and she's losing the upper hand, mind quickly circling on how to take back control. "pull the brake at this speed and we'll crash." that's just the facts, he can't pull it or they'll go spinning. and it angers her he thinks he can just take control, so her foot hits the acceleration even harder to ensure he can't pull it even if it risks getting pulled over as jaw clenches and eyes focus back on the lanes she's hanging the hard curve with. left arm jerking back when her wrist is left stinging at his slap, "WHY are you smacking me?! you're the one trying to kill us! i can drive this car PERFECTLY FINE if you'd stop trying to jerk the wheel and make it come to an abrupt stop!" shoving him away from her when he calls her insane and essentially calls her a homewrecker which is so far from the truth it's disgusting, she's done with the conversations about poppy... this is about sarah now.

"why are you running from sarah now? you have something you want to say to her, remember. so i'm just doing what you SAID." TAKING him to sarah, just like he SAID. "please, you think you're the big bad man here? 9-1-1 would easily take you. hitting a woman, and with daddy's money," mocking him, "remember," a new fresh wave of tears flooding her face because she hates he uses something out of her control against her, that he reminds her of all of the people who has always judged her for being the heiress to a wealthy family, and with her emotions angry and spiraling, of course she wants to use it to make threats and sarcastic jabs at him because of how much it hurts when she thought he was her friend and he just keeps driving the dagger DEEPER, "you could go to prison for life." he wants to judge and label her as some rich brat, make her feel like a terrible person because of the background she comes from, then that's what he deserves to get.

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.

[genericpuff]

vent post

[xxplastic-cubexx]

do u think either charles or erik had trouble coming to terms with their love for one another?? like religious guilt, internalized homophobia, etc.

Many such cases really … not hard to imagine them dealin with that …

[missmvrder]

"Do that and you'll find me all moved in by morning," she said as she gently spatted Roman. Ev en now, living in the same house, felt like he was too far at times. Ever since they met, they had been so close, proximity being the only way to survive. They'd take turn sleeping around the same fire, when it was safe to have one and let on, in the same car. Finding this place, it had been strange and the woman was still adjusting to everything that came with living in a house again, one of them the distance she felt at night. Alara never told Roman, the last thing she wanted was to sound like a child or force him to stay close to her against his will. It had taken her many nights to finally sleep for more than a couple hours at a time. Even now, there were nights with insomnia, spent listening to Roman's breathing down the hall. "Unless you'd like to move out. I mean, getting your own space is fine, if that's what you want." It was something Alara thought about, that Roman could want his own space but she had never dared to bring it up before now. She wanted to tell him that she wasn't his problem anymore, that he didn't have to babysit her anymore but she couldn't bring herself to say that, to release him of any duties he might feel toward her.

"I know you'll always try to come back," she softly said, nestling herself deeper into him. "But there's always the risk you won't be able to." Still, hearing him say he would always come back for her was enough. "I'm sure we can find a way to keep you somewhat busy and happy. If you do a book run, you should take anything you can find on solar energy and the likes. Maybe even wind energy?" It sounded silly, a book run, after everything they had been through, after they had needed so many basic things only to survive. Now they could seriously talk about doing a book run. "And lots of novels. We could start a book club of two," she said with a laugh.

The kiss he laid on top of her head made her heart flutter and the overall warmth she felt was not only because of the wine. "It is nice." Roman was right, there was a sense of normalcy in all of this and the too familiar guilt Alara felt at having all of this when others didn't poked his nose. "You've already given me so much Roman. It's my turn to give you normalcy or at least, to both work on it. This doesn't have to all be on you anymore." Tearing herself from his arm, if only a little to look at him, Alara gazed into his eyes for a beat too long. "I want to be able to take care of you the way you've taken care of me." It was the wine acting and how good the night had gone but Alara dared to gently brush his cheek, fingers trailing on his lips.

"ahh, so you're telling me i should get my own little bachelor pad ready in here? pretty sure one of the houses near by would suit just fine," unless alara specifically asked for her own living space, roman would be hard pressed to be anywhere but right down the hall - near her. "you've got nothing to worry about. you know i'll always come back for you." at first, it had almost felt like an obligation. when they'd first begun to travel together, the man had wanted to keep her safe - a civilian who'd never had to deal with the sort of hardship and violence he'd seen on his multiple tours. but over time, it had stopped becoming an obligation and instead a pure desire. roman cared about the woman - probably for longer than he'd realized until recently.

sitting still was likely to drive him mad, but perhaps he'd find something that allowed him to tinker. carving wood - maybe a chess set? or trying his hand at fixing some electronic or another - assuming they could get solar up and running. "if it makes you happy, i'm sure i can find something to keep me still for a while. i'll try and get out to a library or bookstore before i stay put for the season. see if i can't find some DIY or informational books on useful topics. things we can use to improve this place come spring."

dark hues roamed over her features - ignoring the suggestion of inviting john by regularly in favor of lingering on her proximity and words. settling an arm around her shoulders, the man drew alara closer - dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "this is nice," the moment the words slipped from his lips, roman wanted to smack himself. "i mean - fuck. what i meant was, lets do this more sweetheart, yeah? we deserve the normalcy. i wanna be able to give that to you."

[arolesbianism]

Despite how much I suffered making my last isat au Aris sprite redraw, I decided to do it again and once again went through hell doing it. There’s like a billion mistakes in this (such as her having the wrong arm rip) but at the end of the day I’m still happy with how it turned out :]

[edwinisms]

I know how it sounds at first, but I really gotta feel bad for the boys that sacrificed edwin; I mean even the term “sacrificed edwin” paints them in a more sinister light than they really deserve– considering that wasn’t really, actually their intention.

they were bullies, they were homophobic (and/or were self loathing gay boys themselves taking it out on edwin, or were equally likely peer pressured into acting a certain way), they planned something stupid and mean to do to an innocent, anxious boy with the goal of scaring the shit out of him, all because he was effeminate and an easy target. but they didn’t know or expect any of the ritual stuff to be real. they were all laughing and joking during the ritual because it was just that to them– a joke. a cruel joke, but a joke.

teenagers can be mean and stupid and they usually regret it as adults and grow out of it / grow from it. they were stifled the chance to grow out of it, at least while alive. none of those boys deserved to be instakilled and sent to hell; they’re really not that much less deserving than edwin himself. they were all just kids, after all.

[sufferu]

Okay, so — there are a lot of things here that I fundamentally disagree with. Namely: BTZ is a very specific kind of story with a very specific set of thematic elements that are woven together, and within those elements Julimilia plays a couple of very specific roles both within the story and within the meta surrounding it, in a way that basically nothing else would be able to do.

1) The stated premise of BTZ (+ Knights if the Roundtable comparison)

BTZ is not actually about everyone suddenly becoming an idiot; it’s a commentary on common Re:Zero fanfiction tropes, a comedy of errors about just how badly a very specific situation can spiral out of control, and a what-if about Subaru getting booted from his role in the main storyline. Key themes include the dangers of the refusal to communicate (whether it be out of guilt or out of pride), the messiness of second chances, and where to go if all of your worst fears about yourself really do come true (which I’ll come back to later). These specific (and rather unconventional) themes are pretty important, here, because they mean that what I am intending to do with this story is very, VERY different from stories like the Arthurian mythos, “It’s A Wonderful Life,” or even the original canon Re:Zero story.

I never really got into the mythos about the Arthurian Knights, but I think it’s safe to say that what those stories are trying to accomplish is in a completely different ballpark than BTZ. Trying to map those characters onto the characters in BTZ isn’t really…fair, lol: they have different narrative contexts and are being positioned in service of particular goals both within the story and within the meta. Giving him Excalibur or the power to surpass Julius or whatever — that would make BTZ a different story entirely, with a different narrative, different themes, and different conclusions.

And speaking of Julius—

2) Julius being Subaru’s “traditionally manly superior” is actually the point

Julius IS faster, stronger, more handsome, more traditionally masculine than Subaru. Subaru isn’t wrong about that part. Sometimes people win the genetic lottery, that’s just a fact of life. What Subaru is wrong about is how much that fact actually matters, because he’s convinced himself that it matters a LOT — when as far as everyone else is concerned it’s almost completely irrelevant.

A really big part of what Subaru and Julius’ dynamic represents in this story is the following: even if all of your fears really DO come true, it is nowhere near the end of the world. To put it simply, Subaru is terrified that Julius is everything he will never be — and in a lot of ways, he’s right. He never beats Julius in a fight, he never surpasses Julius in terms of adherence to this image of traditional masculinity, and Emilia ends up in a relationship with Julius instead of in a relationship with Subaru.

But where he’s dead wrong is with how much any of that superficial bullshit actually matters. Sure, Julius is a more traditionally masculine man than he is, and is capable of feats that he will never be able to achieve on his own, and gets the girl instead of him. And yeah, it hurts, at least at first. But NONE of that crap reflects on how much Subaru is valued by other people, or on his worth as a person, or even on how much Emilia truly, genuinely loves him (even if it’s not quite in the same way he thought he wanted). All his more specific fears about being “inadequate” in comparison to Julius come true and yet here he is, and he’s not inferior, and nobody thinks he’s worthless, and he still gets a truly happy ending.

I tend to find this sort of conclusion a lot more emotionally satisfying than the usual “You have nothing to fear because your insecurities are simply wrong” conclusion that most stories come to, frankly. Because you know what? Sometimes you really DON’T get first place, and that’s FINE. I think it’s comforting to be told that it’s okay if you don’t achieve everything that you think you’re supposed to, and that everything will still turn out well for you even if all you can really do is the best that you can. Most stories have the main character actually succeed in becoming the best of the best, especially in anime, and I get it but — I think that this sort of conclusion can honestly be even more impactful, if done correctly.

(And without spoiling things: Subaru actually does surpass Julius in several areas, and everyone but Subaru knows it. He just doesn’t value these areas, and it is precisely BECAUSE they come so easily to him that he doesn’t recognize them as anything of any real worth. And that, too — more than almost anything else, arguably — is something that he needs to learn to overcome.)

The Julimilia subplot is largely an extension of this, because the idea of “getting the girl” in order to prove oneself as a man — and the idea of unrequited love marking you a failure — I HATE that cultural narrative.

3) In which Subaru does not get the girl

I’ve mentioned previously that the Julimilia subplot was largely fueled by me reacting to the BNHA Cuck Porn Frenzy, in which BNHA’s ending absolutely FLOODED my dash with angry Deku Cuck Porn for several weeks in response to him not explicitly ending up in a romantic relationship with Ochako. And the thing is, there were several underlying themes in that whole incident that I really, really hated: entitlement about how Deku “deserved” Ochako and how she was some sort of “gold digging bitch” for not chasing after him, this incredibly mean-spirited attitude about how Deku was apparently now this total washed-out loser, this idea about how all of his former classmates were suddenly superior to him to the point where they completely stopped wanting such a “useless nobody” around anymore (plus some serious classism about fast food workers being inherently less worthy of respect, too) — it was a lot.

And then pretty soon after that, there was that incident where a bunch of cuck fics all got posted in the Re:Zero space at the same time, and I saw a number of the same themes playing out there: Emilia being a selfish asshole who treated Subaru like dirt, the third party being this unquestioningly superior source of humiliation, Subaru being an inferior man who nobody would treat with respect… It was a lot. And look, I’m not gonna bash anyone who gets something out of that sort of thing, lol — but I found myself really put off by a lot of those very specific themes, and that got me thinking about WHY I felt so put off by it.

It wasn’t that I disliked the concept of the main love interest ending up with someone else: that basically never bothers me. So, I started thinking about what elements of these stories I was actually responding negatively towards, and then about how I, personally, would construct a similar scene: what elements I would keep, what I would get rid of, and what I might add in order to enhance the vibes that I thought could make such a prompt valuable (because there had to be SOMETHING: I wouldn’t be thinking about it so much if there wasn’t anything there, after all). And that got me thinking about a scenario where Emilia wasn’t treated like she was evil for liking someone else, where that third party genuinely respected and valued Subaru as an individual, and where Emilia still loved Subaru very, very much — even if it wasn’t romantic. And I…really liked that idea. And then I realized that it actually really, REALLY fit with the broader themes of BTZ, especially the themes about insecurities and second chances.

Julimilia also completely fits within the meta of the narrative. In BTZ I, it — to be completely honest, it’s probably the most obvious thing I could do in a fanfiction literally called “Natsuki Subaru’s Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Or Week) (Or Month).” I don’t think there’s anything more on-brand for that title that I could write than a Julimilia endgame. It also completely fits with BTZ I and II being a commentary on “edgier” Re:Zero fics. A large part of that commentary is “What would need to happen for these characters to act in this very specific manner?” and adding a scenario like a Julimilia endgame only heightens that part of the narrative. To be frank, it gets to the point where not committing to the bit is nothing short of a missed opportunity, lol.

Finally, just coming back to this: there’s nothing wrong with being rejected. Yeah, it hurts, but it’s not the end of the world. Subaru gets his heart crushed, and he feels like shit for a while, but eventually he heals and he moves on and everything is okay again — BETTER than okay, because by the end of BTZ III he’s got both Julius and Emilia as these incredible friends who he deeply treasures from the bottom of his heart. This “Forever Alone” thing where your romantic feelings being unrequited means that you’re a total loser who will never truly be happy — that’s just not it. That sort of mentality reduces men to being dependent on romance for self-worth and it reduces women to trophies that need to be won, and I just never really liked it from either of those angles. The Julimilia subplot of BTZ is largely me expressing my discontent with that very mindset, even, in that Subaru really DOES see himself that way for the first part of the story and has to unlearn it in order to be truly happy.

—And if the way that got resolved was just him ending up with Emilia, then…I mean, what does that say about his worth? That he really is only worth something if he manages to get with the girl he likes? That he really can’t get a happy ending unless it’s with Emilia?

Anyway — those are my thoughts about the themes of BTZ, Julius’s role in BTZ, and why exactly I feel like a Julimilia endgame is such a good fit for the wider BTZ narrative.

i don't have the energy for a second essay, so I'll just cheat by using preexisting media. it was better in my head at work sorry.

the reason why you get complaints about Julimilia is that it is a betrayal of the stated premise of Back to Zero.

"Everyone finds out about Subaru's bs and crit fails everything."

vs what you are writing

"Everyone finds out about Subaru's bs, crit fails everything, and Emilia forms a romantic relationship with Julius in the background."

or to quote a writer about a space demon clown:

"Why does no one complain about the child gore in the story about kids facing a space demon, but always complains about the child orgy that I shoved in?"

I came across the term 'Bishonen' (Beautiful Boy) a while back as one of the beauty standards for Japanese teenage boys and young men, because they loved a 70s actor whose name I forgot.

*wikis it*

ah, so ancient asian asthetic instead of the glamrock era.

anyways, I firmly believe that Julius fits this mold. see the reverse harem members of classic shoujo manga and anime "Ouran Highschool Host Club"

this is half of the reason why Subaru is so annoyed at him in arc 3. because the literal beauty standard was given flesh.

secondly we have to go back a few centuries to a land of knights.

do the names of King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, and Lancelot mean anything to you?

i mean it's not a perfecting mapping, but the vibes are the same.

Subaru doesn't have the adventuring experience of being a knight prince. no caliburn (the actual Sword in the Stone/Sword of Selection), his merlin actively hates him to the point of trying to mold him into a living weapon.'

sure Rem is on his side (oh wait, this is Back to zero). sure Subaru can hel- oh wait they are putting him on the bottom of a massive cuddle pile.

it is true that Subaru and Emilia aren't married yet. however Julius can map to Lancelot excellently. being the superior model of subaru/.

Subaru being a spirit knight with the ability to only support one spirit vs julius six.

Subaru being unable to fight without his spirit (at this point in time) vs Julius being able to hold his own.

Subaru being uneducated in knightly manners vs Julius basically MAKING those standards.

Subaru being unable to protect others.

Subaru has no backup.

so, you've inadvertently made Subaru part of the Forever Alone club. not the sexist assholes that push everyone away,

I mean the people who just fall short of the very real competition that everyone and everything existing takes part in.

the mentally and physically disabled that can't work and can only subsist off the help and charity of others.

it's not the post to detail how Subaru can be argued to be disabled compared to everyone else.

...ugh I need more sleep because this feels incoherent. guess Im expanding the King Arthur, Guinevere, and Lancelot in the EssayTM. say what's that word count?

1986 and it's no where done. ughhhh why must I be the coherent/wordy one of my side of the debates?

…I believe that I fundamentally disagree with a lot of what you are saying, but I don’t really feel that I can say anything until you finish the point that you are trying to make, lol.