#No one will however make me sit through a bad drama

[hopelesshaidys]

Midnights (3AM Edition)

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‧₊˚♡pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

‧₊˚♡summary: Katsuki can't sleep, oh, and he's hopelessly in love with you

‧₊˚♡tags: obviously cussing, reader has a quirk that manipulates/creates shadows, no pronouns are used but reader is written as gender neutral as possible, blood is mentioned, mentions of reader being American mb bro i cannot help myself, also reader has that weighted stuffed dinosaur from target bc i have one and i cannot sleep w/out him, there's mention of the bnha war arc and i just decided the reader got impaled during the war for the drama of it all sue me, reader has scars - so whether that be from the war or anything else that is up for you to decide

‧₊˚♡masterlist 

inbox is open so hmu!!

☾ ⋆*·ﾟ:⋆*·ﾟ

Bakugou Katsuki has a schedule. A strict set of rules that he must follow because Bakugou Katsuki is very serious about his state of well being.

For years he has made sure to train his body in a multitude of ways; through diet, exercise, and especially his sleep. Once 8:30PM strikes on the clock Katsuki has already brushed his teeth, washed his face, put on comfortable clothes, and is tucked in bed with the lights off and eyes closed. Sure his friends had made fun of him for it but since when did he ever take them seriously? Watching them mope around in the morning while he was alert than anyone else in the class. 

That was, until the war. 

Some may not realize, but participating in a war as a literal teenager, is not very healthy for one's psyche. Especially when that war causes one to die and then come back to life.

The physical healing procedure was already tormenting enough. His heart still spiking when he exercises, and his body still aching from the broken and bruised bones. Despite the complications, Katsuki could take it. This was merely a bump in the road, and what didn’t kill him will only make him stronger. Mentally healing however, that was a more demanding and strenuous battle. 

Which brings him at 3AM sitting straight up in his bed drenched in sweat. 

Not only was Katsuki struggling to even fall asleep before 12AM, now he was jolting awake when his nightmares replayed the moment he lost his life. 

Katsuki was tired. He was tired of feeling like every other one of his dumbass friends in the morning, and he was tired of having to relive his trauma every night. 

“You look like shit.” 

Katsuki’s eyes shifted upwards, the sun coming through the classroom windows making him squint. When his eyes adjusted to the newfound brightness, suddenly all he could do was stare. The sun had perfectly lit you up, your hair, eyes, whole body. You looked like a goddamn angel. 

“Not even a snarky comeback, damn, you really are feeling rough huh?” 

Grumbling, he forces his line of sight away from your body. He mumbles a quick “fuck off” but you did the exact opposite, jumping up on his desk and putting your face in his view.

Katsuki knew he had a crush on you, he knew he had feelings for you and he knows he’s a coward for never asking you out. Things just happened so quickly; by the time he finally admitted to himself that he was basically "in love" with you (Kaminari’s words, not his), Izuku had left and the both of you were too busy trying to get him back to further your relationship. 

That never stopped him from his endless pining though. Everything about you drove him insane, he had never felt so at ease and like a madman at the same time. Your drive, strength, intelligence, courage, beauty, way with words, humor. All the way down to the way you look at him, he was down bad. In his eyes, you were perfect. 

“Kats,” the softness of your voice caused him to look back into your eyes, immediately relaxing his shoulders. You turned your hand palm-up, a silent way of asking him to intertwine his fingers with yours. This was a new habit between the two of you, starting during Izuku’s disappearance. At first it was just the pinkies, both afraid of the intimacy of it would bring into their friendship. That was, until one particularly grueling night, where it turned into Katsuki fully holding onto your hand with both of his, as if he was scared of you disappearing into thin air. 

Katsuki stared at your hands for a moment, taking in the small scars and calluses littered all over. Without a second thought his hand was laced with yours, already starting to feel better. What a loser he's turned out to be.

You nudged him with your knee, head craned to look at his face that he was hiding from you. “What’s going on?” 

He was hoping that you wouldn't ask, knowing that he would immediately open up like the lovesick fool he is. Taking in a deep breath, Katsuki shifted his neck to look back up at you. 

“Can’t sleep, makin’ me all shitty.”

You snorted, not being able to help yourself being tickled with his childish mumbles. You quickly shot him a quick “sorry” when his eyes narrowed at your laughter.

Rubbing the back of his hand with your thumb, you spoke up. “Yeah, nightmares are the worst.”

Katsuki nodded his head slowly, knowing you’d understand despite the lack of information. 

“You know you can always come crash with me if you need it.” 

Katsuki was now more awake than he had been in weeks. His eyes widened as they glued onto your casual demeanor. Swinging your feet, you looked up and smiling at your friends as they stumbled into classroom waving enthusiastically at each other. The words just flowed out of your mouth, and not a single tell with your body language hinted at those words being unnatural to you. So much so, when you looked back at him you had the nerve to look at him confused and chuckle at his expression. 

“You’re a freak,” Katsuki mumbled as he slipped his hand out of yours. He folded his arms and set his head back down onto his arms, but that only caused you to laugh harder. 

You ruffle his head affectionately getting up from his desk, Katsuki grunting as he pretended he didn’t enjoy the domesticity. While you walked away, he couldn’t help but let his gaze follow. Seeing you so bright just interacting with your friends, it was something that never ceased to amaze him. You had gone through so much mentally and physically despite being so young. With all the trauma you had endured, Katsuki watched you live life to the fullest. He watched you continue to have fun, laugh, cry, do all the things you love; he watched you become a hero. 

That is exactly why Katsuki found himself standing in front of your dorm door at 3 in the morning, hand only inches away from your door handle. This is stupid, it's so immeasurably idiotic, he had to be insane. The lack of sleep had indubitably affected his ability to think straight because what the hell did he think he was doing? This was only going to keep him more awake, he was going to be so goddamn nervous laying in your bed and being that close to you. Nonetheless, Katsuki turned the knob, immediately cringing at the creak the door made. Was he supposed to wake you up when he got in there or just...lay down? This was the first time in his life he entered a room without knowing how to proceed and that is how he knew he had gone full berserk.

He took a single step into the room, immediately nearly blew up the whole goddamn school. There was the unmistakable sound of a man's voice.

Now on full alert, Katsuki scanned the area despite his eyes having to adjust to the dark in order to see where the source was coming from. The voice was deep, and speaking in English which only lead Katsuki to become more irritated. It wasn't until he made out your laptop being on and playing a video, that he was able to let out a sigh of relief. He forgot that you liked to put on YouTube while you slept.

"Helps me for when I wake up in the night, 'cause then I can just watch it. Helps get my mind off of things until I fall asleep." You explained shrugging your shoulders, mouth still chewing on whatever candy Sero had thrown your way.

"Plus I don't like being in the silence with my own thoughts," you tilted your head over at Katsuki as he raised an eyebrow at you. "The voices say the wildest shit sometimes."

At the time, Katsuki was not shy about how weird he thought you were for having some random guy play video games in order to sleep. However, with his new predicament he understands the appeal much more. It's a good distraction to use in order to stop thinking about whatever traumatic incident you just relived momentarily, not that he was ever going admit to you about all of that.

Shutting the door, Katsuki put one foot in front of the other, feeling like he was in some sort of hypnosis. Maybe you were awake and your started to use your quirk on him, stupid umbrakinesis or whatever it was called. (That is what it was called. Katsuki made sure to memorize it and learn everything he could about it- the creation or manipulation of darkness and shadows- a powerful quirk only made sense given how perfect everything else about you was. Although Katsuki has a strong feeling he'd still love you even if you were quirkless.)

When he finally got to your bed, like the awkward pathetic idiot he is, Katsuki just stood there. He could not, for the life of him figure out what to do next. He was actively trying to decide whether if he should just turn around to leave. Act like nothing even happened, just have to live with the embarrassment for the rest of his life.

No, he couldn't give up now! If he goes back to his dorm he'll just stay up even later than usual just replaying what he just did over and over until he rips all of his hair out. Besides, you told him he could "crash" in your room, he had even made sure of it later that day to make sure he wasn't hallucinating those words.

When the two of you finished sparring for the day (the only reason you won three times in a row was because he was tired, no other reason) he stomped over to you. "What the fuck did you mean by me 'crashing with you' twilight"

(not Katsuki's best work nickname wise but seeing you laugh and let him call you that caused him to keep using it)

"Kat," you huffed as you rolled your eyes at his attitude. "You told me you're not sleeping well because of the nightmares, and I just wanna help you out."

You unraveled the cloth wraps from your fingers, something that Katsuki was weirdly attracted to and had no idea what to do with that information. You looked up from his hands, causing him to snap his head back up and pretend like he wasn't oogling at your arms and hands.

He continued to watch as you shoved the cloth in your gym bag, continuing your explanation.

"Speaking from experience; I know how lonely it can get when you wake up from an agonizing nightmare all alone, and I wondered if having someone there keeping you grounded could help." Your eyes met his, sweat still running down your face from the previous activity. He watched as you extended your hand to his, gently grabbing the tips of his fingers. "I'm here for you, seriously."

And goddammit if that didn't convince Katsuki to come into your room at 3AM after an "agonizing nightmare." Just his luck, he dreamt of the moment of your impalement during the war; watching the life leave your eyes and your body drop to the earth. It was too overbearing to relive, and Katsuki knew he had to see you in order to convince his brain that you were okay, that you are safe.

Putting one knee on the bed, Katsuki observed your face, sound asleep. You were sprawled out, cuddled up to that stupid weighted stuffed dinosaur that you always insisted bringing to movie nights and sleepovers. Mina often had hosted sleepovers that even the boys could join in on, and whenever he found out you would be present he'd stay up a little later just to be with you. You would have that stupid thing in your lap all night long, and Bakugou Katsuki will neither confirm nor deny that he was jealous of a plushie.

You slowly turned your head onto the side, your movement causing Katsuki to snap out of his thoughts. Anxiously, he made sure to study your breathing just to make sure you were still okay. Once he concluded that you were healthy, his eyes continued to drift over your unconscious form.

Your pjs consisted of an oversized shirt that had your home state football team on it, but was fading due to how old it was. The goddamn shirt was so big on you he couldn't tell if you even had pants on (once you shifted Katsuki carefully and painfully watched to make sure you had shorts on which you did- thank gods). You wore the shirt often, wondering the hauls of the dorm with it on. It wasn't originally yours, and you never told Katsuki who it belonged to before hand. All that he knew was it was someone hard for you to bring up, but you still had love for.

Another thing he found himself weirdly jealous about, the fact that you had an entirely different life before Japan, before him. Selfishly, it always made him feel better whenever you confided in him about how miserable you were before you moved. Although those early years of your life was important to you, Katsuki was glad he was apart of your life that you were actually happy during.

Continuing his examination, he followed the tracings of your scars with his eyes. Always finding the markings both admirable and sickening because of the pain you had to endure in order to receive them. Looking back up at your face, he had to fight the urge just to find out if your skin is really as soft as it looks. As much as he loves having your eyes on him, he had always enjoyed your sleeping form. Unable to explain, it made him feel satisfied to see you at peace and finally get the rest that you deserve.

Katsuki noticed you have never been a good sleeper, and he certainly had noticed that only got worse after the war. Study 'dates' ended with you falling asleep in his bed, or during lunch you tended to sneak a quick nap on Katsuki's shoulder when the two of you sat in the hallway to avoid the noise of the cafeteria. He hesitated, worried that his interruption may worsen your sleep for the night, before a loud noise came from your computer.

Despite the computer being on a low volume and his focus on you, Katsuki jumped. His knee bounced the bed due to the pressure he laid on it as he stumbled away, and much to his demise, you woke up. Loudly.

A fury of shadows came shooting out of the walls, nearly hitting the backside of Katsuki. His previous exhaustion being long forgotten as he dove onto your bed in order to dodge a tendril near him.

"Katsuki?!"

All of the tornado-like-shadows froze, the fear in your eyes slowly leaving and the shadows started to dissipate as a result. Katsuki let out a breath of relief, changing from his hands and knees hunched over position to sit with his legs off of your bed awkwardly. You stared at him for a moment, eyes still wide from shock and mouth open. He knew you were waiting for an explanation but now that he was actually sitting on your bed, eye to eye, he had nothing to say. Your incredulous expression stayed the same before you looked around throwing your hands around, eventually let out a loud sigh.

You rubbed your hand over your face, trying to rid of the sleep in your eyes before finally speaking. "Dude, what the fuck is going on with you?"

It’s ironic, Katsuki had been repeating those same exact words to himself all night. He was sure that it was a mixture of the sleep deprivation and the nightmare of you that brought on his body to move on their own all the way into your dorm.

He must have been staring off into space for longer than you liked, because the bed shifted and your hand was now on his shoulder. Slowly, Katsuki looked over at your hand, flinching when he saw a stream of blood dripping down your arm. When he blinked, however, the blood was gone and your arm was back to normal.

"Kat..." You scooted closer to him, daring to move your hand up his neck and resting right at his jawline. The two of you were only inches apart, but all Katsuki could focus on was your steady breathing. He swears he can see that lifeless look in your eyes sometimes, and if he let himself he could feel how cold your face felt when he cradled you in his arms.

Finally, after forcing himself to breathe again, Katsuki spoke up. "Nightmare."

He didn't want to risk worrying you so he spared the details. He knew you were going to feel some sort of burden for something you can't control. Thankfully his one word appeared to be good enough for you because your demeanor changed, shoulders relaxing and your thumb on his jawline started to caress soothing lines.

"Lay down." The bed started to shift more as you sat up fully in criss cross position, Katsuki looking at you speechless.

You, however, just raised an eyebrow at him. "You came in here to crash yeah? So lay down, get some sleep."

A moment of Katsuki staying frozen passed, the two of you maintaining sleepy eye contact. Finally, he let his heart give in as the logical side of his brain screamed at him to refuse, to leave. But he did the opposite, and he laid down staring at you still not convinced. Those feelings only grew when you laughed at him.

"You look like a newborn baby being put down into a crib for the first time.”

"You know what fuck you I'm leavin-" Katsuki started to sit up but you pushed him down with a single hit, shushing him while you did so.

"Just fucking relax man," you rolled your eyes playfully, grabbing at the covers to pull over you. "Lay on your left side, back facing me."

"You better not pull some dumb shit Twilight or else I'll-"

"Yeah, yeah you'll blow off my face or whatever predictable bullshit you were 'gonna say." You chuckled at Katsuki's awkwardness again as he stiffly moved onto his side. His eyes were wide open, every muscle in his body was tense. There was more shifting behind him before he felt you fully lay down behind him. Your lips were hovering over his neck, your breath hitting his skin causing goosebumps to rise.

"Let me know if this is too much." Your whisper against his neck was nothing compared to your arm slithering over his ribcage and leg pushing in-between where his right leg rested on top of his left. Your left hand was simply pressed against his back, which distracted him momentarily from the fact that your right hand intertwined itself with his own hand.

He stayed still for a moment, feeling as if he was on fire. Not from the two bodies being so close together, but rather from the fact that it was your body being pushed up against his. Your head was now rested against his back, and Katsuki feels as if every part of you that was touching him was melding into his own skin. He was suddenly very grateful that you had him face away from him because you surely would have made fun of the way his face reddened. He kept his breath low and shallow, so overwhelmed with the touch that he had craved from you for so long. Katsuki wasn't sure what to think, his mind completely and utterly blank.

Behind him, you took a long, deep breath. In, and out; the new relaxation of your body just caused you to sink even further into his. Thoughtlessly, Katsuki did the same thing. He forced himself to take a deep breath in, and out, closing his eyes slowly. He let go of any anxiety or fear that clung onto his fibers, allowing your fiery touch to morph into a comforting heat. As he steadied his breathing, he realized he was matching the pace of your breathing. With his eyes still shut, he allowed himself to be lulled by the existence of you. Melded into his skin, breathing at the same tempo, hands intertwined.

“Good night Kats,” you mumbled against his back. Katsuki was already half asleep, but before his consciousness slipped away, he spoke.

“Thank you.”

He felt your lips morph into a smile, but didn’t say another word. That was okay, you didn’t have to say anything.

Katsuki flipped around to face you. Now confused, you looked up at him squinting your eyes. Instead of saying anything, he wrapped his arms around you and hold onto you tightly. Wordlessly, you made yourself comfortable in the new position. This was what he needed, to hold you when you were alive, in his arms. The proximity allowed him to feel the beat of your heart, comforting his fears further. He pressed a kiss onto your forehead, letting it linger longer than he should have. Before his nervous system could catch up with the fact he just did that, your lips pressed against his chest. Against his heart.

Finally, Katsuki started to drift off to sleep. Something in him told him that he wouldn’t have anymore nightmares as long as he had you.

⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘ ⫘⫘⫘

*gulp* hey guys... 😀 ✦ listen ik its been a while but in my defense; chronic pain. also i cannot eat anymore??? like i can only eat three gluten free nuggets max and im sickly full for the rest of the day. life is so weird

✦ anyways i'll still post bnha here and there but i'll be writing for another man in a series cuz he's so scrumptious and i miss him

✦ also guys be honest is it weird to write x readers for real life people...esp if its smut... im so conflicted cuz there's literally thousands of x readers for this man but idk i get nervy so just lmk i don't wanna outfreak anyone 😔

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

k ily bye 🩶

[dixons-sunshine]

A Healing Touch | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: Being sick was never fun. Steve hated being sick. However, having you to nurse him back to health was a bonus in his ill state.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, coughing, fevers.

Word count: 1k

A/N: I had this idea this morning and had to write it. For some reason, I love writing sick fics with different characters lol. I’m currently working through requests, though, and will have one ready to be posted tomorrow!

Steve groaned in pain as he turned over onto his back. His entire body ached all over, and his head was pounding like he had just bashed it against a wall. “Kill me now.”

Your soft laughter was like music to the Harrington boy’s ears. “I think you’re over exaggerating just a little bit, don’t you?”

“No,” Steve denied whilst shaking his head, instantly regretting it when it only accentuated the throbbing against his skull. “No, I’m serious. Please kill me. Put me out of my misery. I beg you.” A small smile spread across his face when your laughter filled the air once more. “What?”

“I think you should think about becoming an actor one day. Your drama was spot on.” You approached his bed and sat down on the edge, gingerly dabbing at his forehead with the wet cloth you had gotten from the bathroom. The sigh of pure relief he let out was enough to make you smile. “Good?”

“Very good,” he confirmed with a slight nod, shutting his eyes at the cooling feeling against his feverish head.

You gently laid the cloth to rest on his forehead, standing up again to grab the medicine you had collected from the bathroom cabinet—some Tylenol and ibuprofen, along with a glass of water. You would have to leave to go buy something for his scratchy throat later that day. At that moment, however, you would attempt to nurse him to the best of your abilities.

“Sit up for me, Stevie,” you instructed him in a soft tone of voice, walking back over to the bed and taking your spot on the edge.

With great effort, and a few overdramatic whines thrown in just to make you smile, Steve complied with your request. He pushed himself into a seated position, the washcloth falling from his forehead and onto his lap. However, he ignored it for the time being, instead wordlessly accepting the two pills from you, downing them both with the water you handed him.

Steve grimaced at the aftertaste of the medications. “Ugh,” he voiced, smacking his lips a few times in an attempt to rid himself of the taste. “That’s really gross.”

“Seriously?” you laughed and shook your head. “You can handle that nasty tasting cough syrup but this is gross to you?”

Steve let out a small gasp of mock offense, but he could not keep up the facade for long. He chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “What? It really doesn’t taste that bad.”

You brought your palm up to touch his forehead and nodded to yourself. “Yup. It’s definitely not just the fever. There’s just something wrong with you.”

Steve laughed and leaned his head back against the headboard, his laughter soon being replaced by a small coughing fit. He quickly leaned forward again and coughed into his elbow, his body wracking at the exertion.

All jokes instantly flew from your mind. You moved closer to him and gently began rubbing his back, hoping to alleviate some of the pain you knew he must have been feeling. Your heart ached for your boyfriend. He rarely got sick to this extent, but when he did, it always got bad. It broke your heart to see him like this.

When his coughing fit finally came to an end, Steve sighed shakily and leaned to rest his head on your shoulder. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your fingers slipping into his hair, savouring the way it brought comfort to him. He could have fallen asleep like that.

“So tell me, Doc,” Steve spoke up hoarsely. “What’s the verdict after that assessment? Am I gonna make it?”

You laughed lightly at his comment, appreciating the way he attempted to lighten the mood despite his current state. “I don’t know, Mr Harrington,” you began, choosing to play along with his joke. “This is a serious case. We might have to consider surgery.”

“Fuck,” he groaned playfully, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you closer to him, smiling at your soft giggles. “Are there any other options, Doctor? I have to admit that the thought of surgery is downright terrifyin’.” He pulled back slightly to peer at you, a goofy, lopsided smile on his face. “How well do alternative medicine work? I’ve been told that girlfriend kisses are amazin’ at healin’.”

“Hmm. I’m not too sure, but I guess it’s always worth a try, right?” You smiled and pressed a kiss against his warm forehead, before leaning back and looking at him again. “How do you feel?”

“So much better,” he joked, playfully pinching your side. He inhaled sharply and fought against the urge to start coughing again. “You have a healing touch. I told—I told y—”

Despite his best efforts, he lost the fight. Another fit wracked through his aching body. You once again gently rubbed Steve’s back, pressing one, two, three kisses against his bare shoulder. Thankfully they subsided quicker than the last ones had, and you were grateful for that.

“I think you should try to get some sleep,” you suggested, urging him to lie down by gently pushing against his chest.

Steve made zero protest. He lay down on his bed, his head falling against his pillow. “Sleep sounds great,” he admitted quietly.

You brushed his hair back with your fingers, before cupping his cheek in your hand. “Go to sleep, Steve. It’s okay.”

“What about you? What are you gonna do?” he questioned.

“I’m gonna run to the pharmacy real quick and go get something for your throat.” You pressed another kiss against his forehead, before pushing yourself up from the bed. “I’ll be back when you wake up.”

“You promise?”

His voice was so soft when he asked that. When you looked at him again, you could see the way he looked at you with silent adoration, love, and appreciation. You smiled at him and nodded.

“I promise. I’ll be back before you know it,” you said sincerely. “I love you, Stevie.”

The smile he sent your way gave you butterflies. “I love you more.”

[starlightandfairies]

Ok ok I really love you! That's the last request hahaha I don't wanna annoy you ❤️ I had this somehow cute idea where you've fallen in love with him but he doesn't know and one time you get a little drunk with the girls, later deciding to grab a taxi to the Mikaelson house. Klaus is the one letting you in but Elijah already felt your presence and tries to keep you safe around Klaus, or as you start playing with their swords and stuff. Klaus watches with amusement at his brother taking care of a human girl and makes a comment like "better keep her before I do", and that wakes something in Elijah that he takes you to his room, just to keep you safe. You end up cuddled on top of him, admitting your love to him before falling asleep. He also realizes that he has feelings for you, but he decides to tell you properly in the morning when you wake up 😊😙

Description: A drunken reader leads to playful chaos between the Mikaelson brothers and feelings being revealed.

Warnings: she/her pronouns, drunkness, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you so again for requesting! No! You're not annoying me! I'm really enjoying getting requests so don't feel bad! I hope you also enjoy this one!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 1,156

First Person's POV

Girls' night out was amazing, I haven't had a night like this in ages, away from all the drama and finally able to just relax with the girls and just be us. I knew I was getting tipsy, I could feel my giggles becoming more and more prominent than normal. The girls were going home, so I decided to head towards the Mikaelson house, I stood on the street hailing a taxi and stumbled into the vehicle once it arrived. I asked to be taken to the address, the walk to the porch of the Mikaelson resident seemed like an incredible challenge, I'm sure that to an outsider I just looked like a fawn learning to walk but I felt as if I was climbing Mount Everest. 

I giggled to myself as I fell against the door, I sucked in a breath, trying to pull myself together as I knocked waiting for someone to answer. I was surprised when it was Niklaus, I waved almost childishly, smiling brightly at the Hybrid who clearly seemed amused by my current state.

In all honesty, I have no clue how I ended up sword-fighting with Niklaus, however, somehow this is where we ended up. Sword fighting in the parlour. I highly recommend it, however, do take care. I grinned brightly seeing Elijah walking forward with his usual look of concern plastered on his face, however, once he was at my side he smiled. 

"Good evening, Y/n, I didn't realise you'd be joining us." 

"Spur of the moment type thing." I turned my attention back to Niklaus, continuing our little sword fight, I jumped as Elijah used his speed to appear in front of me, I grinned excitedly but quickly pouted as he took the sword off of me. 

"How about instead you sit with me, and tell me all about your night?" The pout faded away, I nodded in agreement, sitting on the sofa with him and instantly began rambling on about every little detail that went on tonight. I'm sure I shared details I wouldn't typically share in normal conversation, my filter was non-existent and oh, how I know that if I could watch myself right I would wish for it badly. 

"Am I okay to take my shoes off?" I questioned glancing down to the hells that were now becoming painful and unwanted. Elijah nodded, though, after watching my struggle he lightly took my hands and proceeded to continue to charm me with his gorgeous smile that drew me in the first time I saw him. 

"May I help you?" I nodded, frustrated with my inability to undo the damn straps on my shoes, Elijah kindly took my shoes off for me and rested them to the side. The vampire stared at me for a good minute, assessing my needs and whatever else that was needed to be assessed. 

"I'll be right back, I'll get you some water." I threw my arms around him, giggling happily, thanking him and plopped back into the couch. I waited patiently for both vampires to return, I fiddled with my hands, staring at everything in the room and running my finger over my lips making odd sounds just for the sake of it. 

Elijah's POV 

I began pouring some water, and getting some things prepared for Y/n knowing that in the morning the hangover would come, I wanted her to be okay and wanted her to be safe. So I was quite glad that Niklaus chose to follow instead of causing more havoc with Y/n. 

"You know, brother, you better sweep her up before I do." His smirk and words struck a chord. He knew of my feelings, Niklaus knew that I would do anything for her and knew that he would follow through on his words. I made my way back to the living room, stopping in my tracks seeing her laying upside down on the couch, he head on the floor and her legs dangling over the backrest of the sofa. 

I bit back the smile dying to show, I sat beside her, smiling as she waved happily and awkwardly twisted and turned trying to get back into an upright position. I took her hands, smiling as she rested her head on my shoulder and that gorgeous smile just permanetly stuck on her lips. 

"Come with me, will you, please?" Y/n nodded, taking my hand and following me to my room. I handed her the glass of water, watching as she plopped onto my bed finishing the glass of water within a gulp and began curling up underneath the blankets. 

'Would you lay with me, please? I couldn't refuse, I nodded and kicked off my shoes and rested besides her. I wrapped my arms around her as she began to lay upon me, her eyes were fluttering open and shut her words escaping in a mumble. 

"I love you, Elijah. I really love you. Like a lot. Super a lot." Before I could even deny anything, I could feel her swiftly fall asleep, I didn't want to disturb her, I didn't want this moment to end. I knew that in this moment I wanted to confess my feelings for her, so I thought it would be best to do so in the morning. 

First Person's POV 

As the light shined into the room, I knew my headache would be a bitch to deal with, I pushed myself up into a sitting positon in the boat. I stretched briefly, jumping slightly to see Elijah walking into the room with a glass of water and a packet of painkillers. 

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you." I whispered, sipping the water and taling the painkillers. Elijah sat on the bed besides me, I rested my head on his shoulder and began sharing my apology. 

"I'm so sorry, was I a complete mess?" 

"No, not at all." 

"You're a liar." I whispered. 

"You were just really giggly and silly. You told me you loved me- I don't know how much of that was true..." 

"That was true, I meant that." I confirmed, seeing there was no point in denying the fact that I loved him. Elijah sat in silence for a good moment, I could feeel my heart halt for a second fearing that his reaction cold be poor and that he would react in a way that ruin our friendship. 

"I love you too." He whispered, his eyes focused on me, I glanced to him surprised and shocked about the outcome of the confession. I smiled pushing myself up and grabbed ahold of his face. Looking to see if the noble vampire was lying to me, he grabbed my hands, his look gentle and comforting. I knew just then that it wasn't a lie and that this was all true. 

[drtwit]

Random Fic Idea

Since I've been seeing more people reading this post, just a heads up: the fic has been made.

______________________________________________________________

You know, we have a lot of 'Villain Chat Noir' AU fics, but is there any that have it be positive?

Like, Adrien getting to work along side his father actually leads to more father/son bonding because their villain identities are both goofy drama queens who finally found something they have in common. As well as both having outlets for the frustration of what they have to pretend to be in their real lives.

In the day time, Gabriel is sitting in his office, lecturing Adrien about upholding the Agreste name and dolling out his strict schedule. By night, Hawkmoth and Chat Noir are hold up in the lair, brainstorming puns and quips while Chat gently tells him to stop akumatizing Mr. Pigeon.

Their version of a fishing trip is stealing from the Dupain Bakery. "We're rich, can't we just pay?" "No, because we're evil." *Chat proceeds to leave money on the counter anyway.*

Gabriel coldly reprimands Adrien for getting anything less than an A, while Hawkmoth akumatizes the teacher who dared give his son a B+.

Ladybug is like 'Oh my god, there's two of them.' as Chat and Hawkmoth synchronise their team rocker-ass intro speeches and Mayura's just shaking her head because she has to live with these two goobers.

Gabriel's making a snobbish speech about those damn hooligans wasting their time with silly shenanigans, all while Adrien's resisting the urge to laugh 'cus Hawkmoth akumatized a baby yesterday and spent half of the fight trying to get the baby to pronounce his name right.

Master Fu wonders what horrors the villains are putting his innocent kwamis through, and it just cuts to Nooroo and Plagg dropping the beat.

Chat: *Starts helping old ladies across the street.* Hawkmoth: I knew that Marinette Dupain Cheng was a bad influence on you!

Adrien in the middle of class having a heart attack as an akuma flies straight into the window trying to get his attention. Adrien: Father, now is not the time! Hawkmoth: I just- I just- I just want to check if Chloe's pissed anyone else off yet. Adrien: Didn't Nathalie say no akumatizing until you finish your paperwork? Hawkmoth: She's not the boss of- Nathalie: Gabriel, I can hear you monologuing from the dining room. You better not be interrupting Adrien's education! Hawkmoth: Gotta go!

Adrien: Father, can you not akumatize one of my friends for five minutes?

Hawkmoth: Young man, what do you think you're doing? Plagg: Don't panic, Kid. Show him who's boss. We don't take grief from anybody. Adrien: I'm r-rebelling, Father. You don't own me! Hawkmoth: I do, however, own all of Plagg's cheese. Plagg: ...Okay, Kid, let's think about this-

[torakowalski]

Swimmer Steve has reached summer 1988 and is inching closer to become Olympic Swimmer Steve!

I've got a confession. When I checked where the Olympic swimming trials were in 1988, the site I found told me Indianapolis. So I wrote this part! But then I double checked and it turns out the 1992 trials were Indianapolis but the 1988 ones were Austin. HOWEVER, it's too late, so pls accept this tiny deviation from reality.

(part one | part five)

"This is so fucking cool," Gareth yells in Eddie's ear, over all the different noises crashing around the natatorium.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, way more pleased than he wants to let on. He doesn't know why Gareth's here, but they all are: Gareth and Jeff and Chris, plus Robin and all Steve's kids.

Wayne's sitting further back with Mrs Henderson, away from some of the noise, but he's here too.

"Hell, yeah." Gareth grins at him. "How many times can you say you've seen someone you know audition for the Olympics?"

"It's not called auditioning," Chris says, elbowing him.

"It is, if you want to annoy Steve," Eddie tells him. He thinks it goes without saying that he always wants to annoy Steve.

It's blind luck that the Olympic swimming trials are happening in Indianapolis. Sure, Steve acted like it was no big deal, and said he didn't expect anyone to come, but Eddie knows how goddamn delighted he is that everyone's made it here for the second day.

Eddie's pleased too, of course he is, but he did kind of enjoy yesterday when it was just him here for the heats. Sue him, but he gets Steve to himself so often that he's maybe forgotten how to share.

There's some shuffling from further down the row of seats, and then Gareth gets shoved out the way and Dustin takes his place.

"Who are our main competitors?" he asks, looking at Eddie expectantly. He's got a notebook out and everything, like he's gonna come up with a plan to take them down.

Eddie starts to answer and realises that the rest of Steve's gang are listening in too. It dawns on him that he's the expert here. He's the one who's been up and down the country, going to meets with Steve, and he knows about this shit now.

He never thought he'd willingly learn anything about a sport, and even less that he'd admit to knowing anything, but it turns out you'll do a lot of unexpected shit when you're head over heels for a jock.

Even a straight jock. Even one who's been nothing but sweet about his stupid crush.

Speaking of which, here he comes now, golden skin and black speedos, standing out from the rest of the hopefuls, at least to Eddie.

"What happened to his chest hair?" Lucas asks, from one of the seats in front of Eddie. Their little Hawkins gang is really taking up a lot of this stadium.

"Right?" Max mutters, sounding disappointed.

Eddie tips forward to lean in between them. "He has to wax. Legs too."

"Ow," says Lucas, shuddering. "What's wrong with staying hairy?"

"You didn't say that when you asked why I hadn't shaved," Max says.

Lucas throws up his hands. "I didn't mean it that way! I've said I'm sorry and that I didn't mean it that way!"

It sounds like an old argument. The only bad thing about spending all his time with Steve these days, is that they miss a lot of the kids' day to day dramas. The ones that are too small to get relayed to them over the phone, anyway.

He knows Steve feels that too. He's planning to have a real break back home, after the Olympics. If he makes it to the Olympics. Fuck, Eddie hopes he makes it to the Olympics.

There's a buzz down below by the pool, everyone lining up for the first semi-final. Backstroke first. One of Steve's favourites.

"Okay," Eddie says, and takes a deep breath. "Here we go."

Steve makes it through all his semis easily, which Eddie had known he would, but had still panicked about.

There's a break before the finals, but Eddie unexpectedly can't make himself move. He's too keyed up, so tense and nervous for Steve that it's gone all the way around in a circle and frozen his legs.

"He's doing great!" Dustin says, easy and relaxed, because he's not worried. Whether Steve believes it or not, Dustin thinks he can do anything.

"Yeah." Eddie nods. "Yeah. Yeah, really great."

Dustin frowns at him. "... isn't he?"

Fuck, now Eddie is infecting other people with his anxiety. That's not cool. "He is doing so great," he says. "Like, fucking fantastic." He grins at Dustin, wide enough that he feels it stretch the scar on his cheek that doesn't move as easily as the rest of his face.

"So what's wrong with you?" Dustin asks.

If it was anyone else, except Wayne and maybe Gareth, Eddie would deny anything being wrong at all. But he and Dustin are bonded by like, bats and death and shit. So instead, he finds himself admitting, "He just wants this so bad. It's gonna shatter him, if he doesn't qualify."

"But he will," Dustin says. He grins crookedly at Eddie. "It's cute how much you care about him getting what he wants."

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie tells him, but affectionately.

They grab lunch while the 1500 metres guys do their semis, and they're back before the 50 metre finals.

Steve doesn't do 50 metres, says it's too short to be interesting, but Eddie thinks there's something cool about watching people whizz along down one length then be done. The fact that he enjoys races that Steve isn't even in is no good for his cred and not something he's gonna tell anyone.

Two minutes before Steve's first final, Robin drops into the seat next to Eddie. She doesn't say anything, just reaches out and clutches his hand.

Since he knows exactly how she feels, he just clutches back.

Steve qualified third fastest out of all the semi-finalists for this one, so he's in a decent, middle lane. He's easy to spot in his yellow swim cap, amongst all the reds and blacks.

"I'm gonna throw up," Robin says conversationally.

"Yup," Eddie agrees.

It's backstroke again first, so the swimmers all get into the water before the start. It feels like it's happening in slow motion, which might be because Eddie isn't breathing.

The whistle blows and they're off. It's a 200 metre race, so four lengths. Steve keeps up easily for the first length, is slightly ahead at the start of the second, but he falls behind just, just slightly right before the turn for the third.

Robin's fingernails digging into the back of Eddie's hand are all he can feel.

"Go Steve!" Max yells, followed a second later by the rest of the kids.

But Eddie already knows it's too late, Steve pushed himself too fast too early and he's not gonna catch up.

He finishes fifth. And, like, that makes him the fifth fastest guy in America in the backstroke, but fifth isn't gonna get him a spot at the Olympics.

"It's okay," Eddie hears himself saying, because the kids look kind of stunned. "It's okay, backstroke's done, we move on. He's still got three more finals; he just needs to place first or second in one of those. It's totally okay."

"What if it's not?" Robin hisses.

"Then I'm gonna cry."

She nods. "I'll join you."

Eddie watches as Steve drags himself out of the pool. He stands for a minute, then follows the others back to the changing rooms, without looking up at the stands.

He finishes third in the butterfly.

He comes second in the breaststroke, but it's a joint second, tied with some guy from Nebraska, and Eddie just doesn't know if that will be enough. What he really needs is a win.

"He's better than this," Robin says, voice hoarse from yelling Steve's name. "He is, right? He's been winning all his other meets."

"He's nervous. He's tensing up." Eddie wants to go down there and do something, anything to make Steve believe he can still do this.

It's late by the time the swimmers troop back out for the breaststroke final. Eddie's tired just from watching, he can't imagine how they all feel.

Steve's last out because he won this semi-final. He's the favourite for this one, but even across the distance between them, it's easy to see he's still frustrated with himself from the other races.

"Everyone cheer," Eddie orders before jumping up and fucking, whooping. Making a fool of himself at a sports event? He never thought he'd see the day.

Steve sees him then sees the kids join him and laughs, his whole body relaxing. He waves, waves again.

"Knock 'em dead, Harrington!" Eddie yells and ignores the looks he gets from the other families dotted around.

"Drown them!" Dustin yells, which makes Steve cover his face with his hands, but probably to hide his laughter rather than his dispair.

"He's gonna do it," Robin says. "He's got to."

Eddie sinks back into his seat, and can't say anything.

They line up, Steve dead centre this time. The whistle blows.

Steve's dive is beautiful, sends him nearly half way down the pool before he has to come up for air. He makes the first tumble turn ahead of everyone else, and then he's unstoppable. It's like he's been waiting for this moment, like everything has kicked into place.

He's in the lead for the second length, the third. A guy from California starts to creep up on him half way down the last length and Eddie has a second to think this is all gonna get snatched away, but it turns out Steve's not gonna let it.

He puts on a burst of speed that looks superhuman, fucking shoots himself through the water, leaves everyone in his wake and slaps his hand down on the end two maybe three strokes ahead of everyone else.

Their section erupts.

Dustin and Gareth and Robin all hug Eddie, like he's somehow had anything to do with this. Over their shoulders, he can see Wayne and Mrs Henderson cheering as loud as the rest of them.

He kisses Robin's cheek, says, "You're crying."

"Damn right, I am," she sniffs. She pats her hand against his cheek. "So are you."

"Huh," says Eddie, who hadn't noticed. "Your boy done good."

"Our boy," Robin says, "is going to the Olympics. You should say congrats to him with a kiss."

Eddie snorts. "Maybe I will," he says, knowing he won't. Steve doesn't want that. "Maybe I will."

(continued)

[demonslayedher]

Higher Stakes, Lower Tension: The Swordsmith Village Arc

Although we love it for a lot of the moments and how we got to know more characters through it, the Swordsmith Village Arc is not as popular as other arcs, and there was a lot less excitement for it compared to other arcs. I'd like to break down why I think that is, especially in comparison to the Entertainment District Arc, the tough act it had to follow.

Follow below the cut for: How lore was prioritized over momentum How setting and consequences trivialize hard-earned victories Drama and character arcs that feel incomplete How much deeper and more satisfying this arc had potential to go

Lore Over Momentum

This was an important arc. Setting aside the major accomplishment of ridding the world of two more Upper Moons, this arc was the impetus for everything that would come later, thanks to Nezuko's triumph over the sun at the very end. However, in the overall structure of the Kimetsu no Yaiba plot, this arc also laid important groundwork about Yoriichi, thereby making sense of many later developments that will come in the Infinity Castle and Sunrise Countdown arcs.

It was also a chance to develop on the importance of swords, which has been brought up on high-stakes occasions like when Tanjirou's sword breaks in battle against Rui or is at risk of breaking in battle against Daki. We learn more about the Corp and the lengths they go to in order to protect their source of swords, and Tanjirou makes it clear from the very start of the arc how reliant everyone is on the fact that these swords exist.

We know this, and for clarity's sake it is worth having Tanjiro state it both for what this says about Tanjiro and for how it brings a tidy and heartwarming resolution in his ongoing bouts of danger with Haganezuka, but it's hard to care about what is said instead of shown.

The danger the village was in was, actually, the highest-stakes battle we've seen thus far in the series. If the swordsmiths and all their know-how is wiped out, the battle again demons may be done for. But why are we not as worried for them as we were for the residents and customers of the pleasure quarters?

The Setting Lowers the Our Perception of the Stakes

This comes out in the emotions of the innocent bystanders, including and especially those heartlessly slaughtered. It's not so much because of a lack expressions of terror due to the swordsmith masks, for their body language and desperation to keep fighting and protecting the swords is clear. However, it's because they keep fighting that there is a certain stoicism that keeps us from feeling as bad for them.

This is something they always knew to expect, and they were prepared to live with the consequences of their mission.

The people of Yoshiwara, on the other hand, were simply trying to go about their nightly lives, and we taken completely off-guard by the attack. We can picture how much losing a hand is going to impact a proprietor's daily life, how traumatized a woman will be seeing her friend's head taken off right in front of her, and how even non-life threatening injuries were painful and cause for alarm with how much they bled. We see how their lives were turned completely upside-down within seconds.

On the hand, the swordsmiths buried the dead, and then scurried off to a shadow village, ready to keep working without many setbacks. The extra ending Ufotable gave this arc with the mourning swordsmiths taking time out of their busy moving process to go happily throw confetti still doesn't sit right with me for how it trivializes what happened instead of celebrating it.

While Yoshiwara is a well-known area now destroyed by enemies that usual lurk so deeply in the shadows that the many witnesses have always doubted their existence, in the Swordsmith Village every witness already knew the enemy, but no one knew the victims. Their tragedy is a hidden tragedy, and their annihilation would only have been known to a secret society.

This issue is similar to how storytellers often add somewhat obvious yet hard to picture tension about the fate of the world at stake, when something small and innocuous can be far more gripping because the stakes are easier to grasp and imagine. However, the scale of the stakes are not the only issue with building tension; the pacing is also an issue.

Lack of Narrative Build-Up

Previous arcs, especially the Entertainment District Arc, pulled this off really well. We go in knowing there will be a demon, but we don't know anything about this demon aside that Uzui's wives have gone no-contact, likely because of its interference. The arc deliver tidbits that give us the satisfaction of thinking this is it, we've found her, we've found the wives, we see she's dangerous, but then we're stunned to find out she's not even the one we should have been worried about all along.

Conversely, in the Swordsmith Village Arc, we know right away that these two are Upper Moons and they are coming. They have transformations throughout the battle that keep it challenging (at least in the case of Hantengu), but we never feel much of an elevated sense of danger or loss partway through.

Yes, we easily could have lost two Hashira that night, and it would have been devastating. However, we were quickly gratified to see their mid-battle recoveries. In Uzui's case we had to assume the worst, especially coming off the heels of losing Rengoku.

Speaking of our Hashira heroes...

Incomplete Hashira Arcs

The Mugen Train Arc was essentially Rengoku's full and, despite its brevity, very impactful character arc. Not even so much of an arc as a very loud statement of who he was.

The Entertainment District Arc, following on its heels, was like a call and response answer to the loss we and the Kamaboko boys felt. They get adopted as Tsuguko again, with more time to get to know and appreciate their mentor this time, one who is also still grappling with the loss of Rengoku and how to measure up to that. We also get a full look into the multiple sides of Uzui, from his past to his motivation to how he handles the biggest struggles, from the fear for his wives' to having to fight nearly to his death. The fact that we got to keep Uzui in some form, even if it is no longer in fighting form, felt earned and a relief.

On the other hand, we got important back story and got to know Muichirou and Mitsuri very well in this arc, but in a way that we the viewers had a physic link inside their heads instead of appreciating them through how they fight alongside Tanjirou. Tanjirou is of course amazed to see how Mitsuri fights, but as far as fearing for her safety is concerned, he saw her very quickly recover from the one fearsome hit before they parted ways on the battlefield.

Muichirou and Mitsuri both had surface-level interactions with Tanjirou without necessarily feeling a propensity to raise him like a Tsuguko, and then they face their own battles with narrow brushes with death and moments which force them to confront elements of their pasts, resulting in renewed confidence and relatively easily-earned victories without many consequences.

At least, as far as we know. As we find out later, they've already paid for those easy victories with the majority of their lifespans. Again, this arc is important to the overall plot of Kimetsu no Yaiba because those victories show how much more powerful the Corp is after the struggle defeating an Upper Moon, at long last. That was the battle that unlocked the mark, which will be the game changing in upcoming battles. Again, the lore is doing a lot of heavy lifting, but at the expense of satisfying victories.

And, because we still have future battles for these Hashira to fight, their arcs are not over. That makes their incomplete arcs feel lacking compared to the completed arcs that came before them.

But it's sure not just the fault of the Hashira for surviving in (what looks like) good health.

Those Villains Sucked

Don't get me wrong, I love Gyokko and Hantengu, at least when it comes to being as amused by them as I am by any other element in this series, and appreciating their character designs. In the wider scheme of Kimetsu no Yaiba, a series known for making us feel deep sympathy for the villains right after feeling so thrilled about them finally meeting their demise, we don't get that sense from these two. That's because they are as wretched as demons come, and they are fun to hate for all the suffering they cause simply by having been rotten to their cores. We don't get any backstory for Gyokko until post-canon publications, so that makes him seem a bit hollow, and in the case of Hantengu, he created all his own problems by being such a terrible person that we relish the chance to deny him the pity he so desperately always clamored for.

But as a Kimetsu no Yaiba arc, this leaves us hanging. Where are the little glimpses of who victims like Kyougai and Mother Spider were, or the gut-wrenching memories of Rui that forever alter our experience of him? Even worse for this arc, it comes right after the Daki & Gyuutarou flashback, once of the hardest-hitting of the whole series. Sure, Enmu never earned our sympathy because he was likewise rotten to his core, but he had more rizz about it.

As far as their impact on the arc is concerned, you could have replaced them with any other kind of challenge the characters have to face, and the results probably wouldn't have changed much. Daki and Gyuutarou were integrated with Yoshiwara both in their dealings and their backstories, Enmu was literally integrated with the setting (and trains always make great settings for added tension) and his powers brought out different sides of the main cast, Akaza drove that whole battle by virtue of his own personality and value set, Rui's preoccupation with 'family' dragged everyone into a hell of his own making.

Meanwhile, Muichirou could have annoyed the hell out of any talkative demon that had brainless minions to attack the villagers, and Mitsuri could have looked just as cool fighting a giant table made of all that wood. It's refreshing to see Tanjirou have so much anger and hate for a demon and not spare an ounce of empathy after finally taking its irritating little head, but he had more important things going on.

Nezuko's Ultimate Victory, Also Trivialized

Nezuko fully masters the sun within one chapter, so was anyone ever truly scared for her? I was spoiled long beforehand, but even if that had not been the case, the popularity of the franchise itself has shot that tension in the foot; we never really got to be sacred for her (though the art in the manga and anime really sells how hard-earned her victory was).

It's sad that we don't see much of Nezuko after she accomplishes the biggest feat a demon has every accomplished, and a lot of people have said her character was underutilized. I agree, though having her in the Fortress would have only led to more mayhem. It's hard to (but not impossible to) justify an additional arc to put her in battle since her transformation is the catalyst for everything that comes later, but the issue I have is that this transformation makes Nezuko so close to human that, realistically, if Tanjirou didn't want to or couldn't fight anymore, he'd already have the assurance that Nezuko leads a somewhat normal human existence again.

What I could have loved to see is at least one more instance of Nezuko being tempted to eat a human, like the danger we felt in the previous arc. That would be a very satisfying reminder of the stakes, and why Tanjirou must keep fighting to regain her full humanity. Making her hungrier due to her new state would be satisfying price to pay for her new ability, wouldn't it? Having that lurk in the background of an otherwise peaceful Hashira Training Arc would add as much satisfying tension as the Nakime eyeballs did. We expect Nakime to succeed in what she sets out to do, but we don't want to see Nezuko fail in that which is most taboo. One last burst of violence would also make us worry a lot more about how that medicine is going to work out for her (and anyone around her) in the few glimpses we get of her throughout the lengthy Infinity Castle Arc.

In Conclusion

Chapter 112 started with us in the heart of action and bloody devastation of the village, and then you turned the page to see a celebratory two-page title spread and announcement of the anime.

When this was compiled into Volume 13 later, Gotouge apologized for how this made it look like they were celebrating the death of the swordsmith who was killed up in the watchtower, and how insensitive that appeared.

But that's the sort of tension we were working with in this arc. It doesn't feel out of place to step away from this battle, because we were never that concerned about a bunch of giant fish with no personal vendettas against the men who were stoically prepared for just such an attack.

Despite all the heavy lifting this arc did for the plot, it's biggest pitfall is being a functional arc with a to-do list of things to accomplish. It succeeds in those things, but sadly, it didn't grip us with worry as well as it should have, despite the stakes.

Or, maybe this arc could have been saved with more lore.

Build more love for swords in the audience instead of only showing us Tanjirou's appreciation, show us swordsmiths who tremble with worry about what happens if their supply chain is cut off, or if they lose the know-how of someone like Tecchin because the rest of them carry the knowledge of how the swords they made weren't enough to save the swordsmen who wielded them, let them struggle with their own drive to create art that is also purposefully to contrast it with Gyokko's, show us swordsmiths who love their weapons but are too afraid to use them. Show us Gyokko's flashbacks and how he's always been callous toward others, show how it is his loss as an artist not just for how he can't break Haganezuka's focus, but for how his art is hollow compared to the mission of the swordsmiths. Show Hantengu having a twisted sense of righteousness well before Zouhakuten appears like a deity to serve justice by protecting him; let all his clones re-enforce his worldview about the strong protecting the weak with perverse religiosity that would make Tanjirou's stomach crawl. Show Mitsuri contemplating how she might not live up to Rengoku's example and how his loss still stings and how even Uzui was so terribly injured by lower ranked demon, show us Muichirou contemplating more how strangely easy the battle became to give us uneasy foreshadowing and a suspicion that something isn't right. Show us whatever the hell Genya was doing in the village all that time with people who he was too awkward to interact with and how he is fighting to protect the swordsmiths he snapped at in addition to his stated goal of wanting to earn Hashira status, and how he struggled to not let any well-meaning villages worry about how he refuses to eat, and how those villagers were undeterred by his brash exterior and worked around his lack of Breath of Breath by giving him firepower, for they are artisans whose ultimate goal is to enable the Corp.

This arc deserved more. It needed to Breathe.

[rhyrhy]

Vital signs ـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Greys anatomy AU! Doctor- Abby Anderson

Mlist | moodboards I second chap (you are here) |

Two: Sink or swim 🩺

⚕️ summary: At St. Mary’s Hospital, the rules are simple. Saving lives, avoiding attachment, and never going overboard. However, staying within those boundaries is becoming increasingly difficult under the constant gaze of the head of cardio.

Your feet feel like lead in your shoes. Two hours ago, you found out that your planned one-night stand was actually the head of cardio at your hospital. And now, just when you thought your bad luck had peaked, fate decided to twist the knife. Because despite your best efforts to avoid Dr. Anderson, she was the resident on this case with you. So, you did everything you could by yourself. You pushed through rounds, meticulously checked vitals, double-checked scans. You weren’t about to look incompetent, not on your first shift. That wasn’t an option. You needed be that intern to get that first surgery.

But now… you’ve hit a wall.

Great.

Nine hours in, the morning has blurred into a mess of movement, orders, and adrenaline. Somewhere in between rushing from one patient to another, you and the other interns finally exchange names, though it barely registers. Everyone’s too exhausted to commit anything to memory beyond who’s in charge and where they need to be.

The sleeve of your white coat brushes against the empty desk as you sit hunched over Katie’s chart. The distant chatter of coworkers in the cafeteria barely reaches you, drowned out by the sound of your own thoughts. Your eyes burn from staring at the same scans, the skin of your fingertips dry from flipping through printed ink a million times. Nothing. How could there be nothing when she was clearly in pain? You can’t go back into her room without answers, you need to prove yourself.

At some point, Dina hurries over, eyes wide with barely masked panic.

“I need help. My patient’s O2 stats are dropping, and I have no idea why.” Jesse lingers just behind her, standing a little too close, like he’s waiting for an excuse to jump in. He’s always like that with Dina—hovering, teasing, toeing the line for coworkers.

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temple. “Ugh, you too? Mine is driving me up a wall. It’s like a phantom pain—nothing’s showing up on these scans.” You glance back at the pages of Katie’s chart. Blood work, normal. Imaging, clear. Symptoms inconsistent. But she looks awful—tired, weak, barely able to sit up without wincing. Something isn’t adding up.

Without realizing it, the four of you have gravitated toward each other like lost kids at recess, huddling together like anxious penguins. Intern penguins.

Or, as General Marlene’s voice echoes in your head, “bottom of the surgical food chain.”

Marlene. Just thinking about her makes your shoulders tense. She’s the reason you got into St. Mary’s. The reason you had to pack up and leave home, leave behind the mess you were barely holding together. You told yourself it was for the best—fresh start, new city, clean slate. No more family drama breathing down your neck, no ex showing up at your doorstep with apologies too late to mean anything. But somehow, standing here, exhausted, drowning in charts and expectations, you’re already wondering if this was a mistake.

Then, as if summoned by your thoughts, a voice cuts through the group like a scalpel.

“Why are y’all just standing there?”

Marlene. She’s leaning over the railing above, arms crossed, looking unimpressed. The overhead lights cast sharp angles on her face, making her look even more intimidating than she did during rounds. Her voice halts conversation. You barely have time to react before she levels you all with an unimpressed glare.

“Rule five: when I say move, you move.” She rolls her eyes and waves everyone off.

A brief pause lingers. Then, after a few awkward head nods and quiet “thank yous,” for whatever help we’d gathered, like a bunch of scolded children, you scatter.

You let out a breath and head back to Katie’s floor. Maybe you didn’t ask enough questions. Maybe you were too focused on her stubbornness. How could your first case—a stomach ache, of all things—stump you this much? The world around you fades into white and black lettering, as you push your hair behind your ear, weaving through patients and doctors, eyes glued to the papers in your hands, praying there’s something you missed.

You press the cold gray button with the arrow facing up, waiting for the elevator. The doors slide open, and you step inside, still reading. A faint hello pulls you from your trance. You don’t feel conversational so You nod absentmindedly in acknowledgment before tilting your head back, letting the bright fluorescent light fill your vision. Your brain is fried. A five-second break won’t kill you.

Then, a familiar chime.

You glance over your shoulder, and there she is, hair pulled back, glasses hooked onto the collar of her dark blue scrubs. You’re still not used to seeing her in this environment. It feels like night and day, remembering the slightly clingy woman who had begged you to stay in bed with her just hours ago. Abby’s hand curling around your wrist under warm sheets, her hair messy, falling halfway over her face. The sleepy rasp of her voice: “Stay a little longer?”

You blink hard, forcing yourself back to reality. Trying to keep those thoughts to a minimum. She leans against the wall, arms crossed, looking way too at ease for someone who just spent six hours cutting people open. Nope. Not going there.

You straighten awkwardly. “Dr. Anderson.”

Her eyebrow raises at the formality, but she doesn’t comment. Instead, she hums. You snap your head forward, keeping your eyes locked on the silver doors, willing the elevator to move faster.

A beat of silence. Then—

“So…” Abby starts casually, like you didn’t wake up in the same bed seven hours ago. “You a hiker?”

“…What?” Your brows pull together, with a small squint of confusion. Was this her idea of small talk, you screamed internally for the universe to let up.

She shrugs, tilting her head slightly. “Utah. Mountains. People out here love hiking. Thought maybe you were one of those ‘find yourself on a trail’ types.”

You blink. “…That’s the most random thing you could’ve said just now.”

She hums, pretending to think. “Well, I considered leading with, ‘Hey, funny running into you here after last night,’ but I figured you’d prefer the small talk.”

Your jaw clenches. “Yes. Definitely prefer the small talk.”

She nods, barely holding back a grin. “Right. So, hiking.” Her gaze flickers downward for a fraction of a second, like she’s mulling over her own words before speaking.

She shrugs,“Just saying. Sounds like a good stress reliever. Can’t help but think they might be onto something.”

There’s a slight twitch at the corner of your lips. “Glad to see you’re adjusting well.”

She grins. “Mhm…Could be a team-building exercise.”

Your brow furrows. “What—are you inviting me—” You cut yourself off, looking away quickly. This was unprofessional. She was your superior. This woman is unbelievable, to say the least.

Moments of silence pass over you two, You don’t wait. The second the doors open, you’re out before she can respond. Just before they close behind you, Abby calls out—

“You let me know if you change your mind about the great outdoors!”

You roll your eyes, but your lips twitch before you can stop them. But as the doors slide shut, you can feel her eyes lingering on you, the weight of her presence pressing against your back.

A dim-lit memory flickers behind your eyelids, The Bar—Abby’s fingers loosely curled around a whiskey glass, the way she leaned in when she talked to you, her eyes unwavering. Her cheek rested against her palm as she listened, intently, to your slightly tipsy ramblings.

“I just… I needed to leave.” Your voice had been quieter then, more vulnerable. “It felt suffocating. Like I was trapped in this version of myself I didn’t even like.” Abby had only nodded, slow, understanding. Watching you like you were the only thing that mattered. No judgment, or chiming in…just listening.

You shake the thought away. Not the time.

The hours tick by, the weight of exhaustion pressing against your shoulders. Your patient, Katie, had been a complete mystery symptoms not quite fitting any obvious diagnosis, test results coming back inconclusive. But now, staring at the latest scan, the pieces finally click into place.

Your breath catches. “Oh my God.”

You scramble for a pen, flipping through her chart, double-checking the notes, re-running the possibilities in your head. It has to be this. A rare complication, but one that makes perfect sense. Your heart pounds as you yank the file off the desk. You have to tell Abby. Now. You spin on your heel, practically jogging down the hall, dodging nurses and patients as your sneakers squeak against the freshly waxed floors. Almost there—

BAM.

You collide with something solid. Hard enough to knock the air from your lungs and send your patient file flying. “Shit—” A pair of hands grab your arms, steadying you before you can completely wipe out.

“Damn, dude. Where’s the fire?” You blink up at Ellie, who’s eyeing you with equal parts amusement and mild concern.

“I—” you shake your head, catching your breath. “I think I figured out what’s wrong with Katie.”

Ellie whistles. “Look at you, solving medical mysteries on your first shift. Next thing you know, you’ll be stealing surgeries from the rest of us.”

You huff, bending down to grab your scattered papers. “Yeah, well, first I have to survive telling Anderson.”

Ellie helps you scoop up the last of the notes, handing them over with a teasing grin. “Well, good luck with that. Try not to walk straight into her, too.” You roll your eyes but shoot her a quick smile before hurrying off. Abby was about to get an earful—whether she liked it or not.

The low hum of hospital machines fills the room as you stand just outside Katie’s door, patient file gripped tightly in your hands. Inside, her parents sit in stiff-backed chairs, her mother wringing a tissue between her fingers, her father rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Their exhaustion is palpable—the kind that comes from hours of waiting, of fear twisting in their stomachs. You take a steadying breath before stepping in. Abby is right beside you, her presence grounding even if she’s the reason you’re feeling twice as nervous.

Katie’s mother stands the moment she sees you. “Do you know what’s wrong with her?” Her voice wavers on the last word.

You exchange a quick glance with Abby, who gives you a small nod, silently urging you to speak.

“We do.” You clear your throat, stepping forward. “Katie has a rare complication called Pericarditis It’s uncommon, which is why it wasn’t immediately obvious, but now that we’ve identified it, we can move forward with treatment.”

Her father straightens. “A rare complication? But she was fine last week. She just had a fever—how does it turn into this?”

You nod, flipping open the file. “That’s a good question. What likely happened is that she had a viral infection—something that probably felt like a cold or mild flu. But instead of just running its course, the infection caused inflammation in the lining around her heart, making it difficult for it to pump properly. That’s why she’s been feeling weak and having chest pain.”

Katie’s mother clutches her husband’s arm. “But you can fix it, right?”

You hesitate, and Abby smoothly steps in. “We have a plan. We’re going to monitor her closely, start anti-inflammatory medication to reduce the swelling, and if necessary, we’ll drain any excess fluid. If she responds well, she could be feeling better in a matter of days.”

Katie’s father lets out a slow breath, nodding. “And she’ll recover?”

You soften. “That’s what we’re aiming for.”

You rub your temples as you finish scribbling notes into a chart, exhaustion already settling into your bones. It’s only your first shift, and yet you’ve somehow run across the entire hospital three times, nearly killed yourself tripping over an IV pole, and barely avoided making an idiot of yourself in front of Dr. Anderson—twice. Intern year was going to be hell.

You glance at the clock. Lunch. Thank God. As you step into the hallway, Jesse falls into step beside you, looking way too smug for someone who’s also running on fumes.

“You look like you just got hit by a truck,” he comments, elbowing you lightly. Scanning over your slumped shoulders.

You glance at him, Straightening up slightly. “Feel like it too.”

Ellie and Dina catch up, Ellie stretching her arms over her head. “At least you don’t have a patient who tried to bite you,” she grumbles.

Jesse snickers. “Pediatrics?”

“Worse. Old fart with dementia. Thought I was his ex-wife.” Ellie sighed, huffing a laugh at her own description.

Dina grimaces, with a shoulder pat that went on a bit longer than normal, or at least you thought. “Yikes Williams.”

As the four of you make your way toward the cafeteria, you let out a deeper sigh. “Honestly, I have bigger problems.”

Jesse raises an eyebrow, curiously spiking. “Bigger than almost getting bitten?”

“I need a roommate,” you admit. “My new place is way too big for just me, and rent is stupid expensive. I thought I’d be fine on my own, but at this rate, I might have to start selling my organs on the black market.”

Ellie smirks. “Dibs on your liver.”

Dina glances over. “Wait, you’re looking for a roommate?”

You nod. Dina nudges you with her shoulder. “I’m literally looking for a new place. My neighbor is wayy too loud at two in the morning. Two. In the morning.”

“Oh my God. Roomies?” Your eyebrows shoot up.

“Roomies.” You agreed, it might not be such a bad idea.

Jesse groans. “Okay, this is ridiculous. If anyone should be Dina’s roommate, it’s me. I’d make a great one.”

Ellie side-eyes him. “Jesse, your car is a biohazard. I can only imagine what your apartment looks like.”

Dina snorts. “Yeah, sorry, man. I think I’ll take my chances with her instead.” She gestures at you.

You sink into your chair, letting out a deep sigh as the exhaustion from the day settles into your bones. Your scrubs feel heavier than when you first put them on, your feet ache like you’ve run a marathon, and your brain is dangerously close to short-circuiting.

So this really is your life now—running on fumes, chasing diagnoses, dodging Marlene’s wrath, and trying not to make a fool of yourself in front of Dr. Anderson.

Your eyes flick across the cafeteria, landing on Abby at a distant table. She’s deep in conversation with another attending, posture relaxed, fingers absently tracing the rim of her coffee cup. She looks just as sharp and confident as she did in the OR. Like she belongs here. And then there’s you—an intern who spent the morning nearly killing herself with nerves, playing medical detective for the first time, and figuring out how to navigate the fact that she accidentally slept with head of cardio.

Great first day.

Taglist: @sevyscoven

[honeymoonblues]

Gossip & Giggles

Professor Remus Lupin x Professor!GN!Reader

Summary: You've gone away for the day, and Remus feels like everybody is acting strange. (Gender neutral reader)

Word count: 724

A/N: Fluffy little thing. Is implicated that the reader and Remus are in an established relationship. Please, let me know if there are any spelling errors, English is not my first language.

“I give him 10 minutes at most.”

“I’d say at least until he walks through the door of the first class.”

“Have a little faith! I think he won’t go five minutes without noticing.”

A few professors were clustered in the entrance of the great hall, murmuring to each other. Remus thought that was a bit odd, but didn’t question it much, it was far too early, and his hunger was stronger than his curiosity at the moment. 

When his coworkers felt his stare, they quieted down, which was even more curious. Were they talking about him? Lupin wondered. But the hot tea in his cup was much more enticing than whatever they might have going on.

His gaze was fixed at a random point of his table, his mind lost in the haze of the cold morning and the memory of you saying goodbye. 

It was much, much earlier when your owl had woken up both of you by clawing at your bedroom window. It carried bad news for you. Thankfully, nothing tragic had happened, but the letter received demanded your immediate attention. That’s how, before the sun was out, you left the castle, not before hugging and kissing Remus goodbye, of course.

Breakfast passed without giving professor Lupin much time to raise his spirits, so he walked to his first class with his mind still elsewhere. 

The students were lively, in total disregard of the early hour or the freezing weather, as expected from the second-years. When he called for their attention, however, they fell silent ridiculously fast and started to whisper to each other in a way that reminded Remus of the professors in the great hall this morning. The nervous tic in his eye started acting up, he sighed and tried to make his student’s concentrate on the class once again. 

Overall, it was an all-right lesson, even outstanding considering Remus was fighting his neck pain, five hours of sleep, and the constant gossiping the students seemed to have going on through whispers and notes for the whole two hours. 

Stretching and comforting himself, Lupin thought “the second years always have some drama to murmur about anyway”. But his next class with the fourth-years was somehow worse! 

This particular group of hufflepuffs and ravenclaws was usually quiet, so much that he had to beg them to participate. But this morning, they seemed to not be able to hold their tongues, or keep their giggles at bay. 

“What’s going on with you today!” Even Remus had to chuckle at the unusual circumstance. 

In spite of that, he took advantage of the energy in the class, and used it to make an impromptu dueling class, which would have been impossible with these students any other day.

Sitting down for five minutes between lessons, he scratched his head, in an almost meditative state. Why was everyone acting strange? Is he missing something? 

While making sure he had a matching pair of shoes, and had not magically changed his pants for a multi-coloured kilt somehow, the seventh-years entered his classroom.

The older the students, the more tired they usually are, so this class went along ordinarily. They did seem to be smiling more, and Remus thought he heard one of them call him ‘cute’, but what were the odds? 

As the hours passed, Remus felt more worn out than other days, so every little bizarre experience in class or after it, he ended up attributing to his own tiredness-induced-paranoia. 

To his heart’s content, you were back to the castle just in time for dinner. With all these odd happenings, he felt like you were gone a week rather than just a few hours, but here you were, finally. 

The silly grin he had on his face when he saw you, rapidly faltered when he noticed how you giggled at the sight of him. Merlin, you too?

Blinking slowly, he felt your arms wrapping around him.

“Hello.” his voice was muffled against your shoulder.  “I missed you.”

“I can tell, darling.” Moving away from him, you looked into his eyes and took his face delicately in your hands. “Is that why you decided to leave my lipstick mark on your cheek for today?”

Then, he laughed heartily in realization, while you wiped his face to get rid of the remnants of your morning goodbye kiss.

(i hope no one minded the concept of the reader wearing lipstick, considering it's a gender neutral reader, but i think makeup is pretty genderless! even us they/thems have to wear lipstick once in a while!)

[pwblant]

07. soup and company

early in the morning, wonbin decides to go to the cafe; however, this time, he isn’t coming for drinks. he’s been wanting to ask you since two days ago if you’d like to either go with him to dinner, to the park, or grab a snack. basically wanting to ask you to go anywhere with him outside the cafe.

he walked into the store, eyes scanning the place, but he doesn’t see you around.

“huh, i thought she worked on thursdays?” he thought to himself.

he sighed as he went to the counter to order his usual cloud americano just so that his efforts of getting there weren’t fully wasted.

you look through the door’s peephole only to see wonbin there, surprisingly, looking like a lost kitty standing outside. it was weird how you didn’t seem to hear the knock—you were just sitting on the couch that wasn’t far from the front door.

you open the door quickly, feeling sorry for not hearing the knock earlier. the poor man holding the hot soup and chicken was really convinced he was at the wrong unit, so the door suddenly swinging open really startled him. he let out a little gasp, not expecting this to be the right place.

“omg that was so cute,” you said, teasing him for his reaction.

“u didnt see anything, shut up and take your food.” he said with a pout.

you smiled at him. “why’d you wanna come over? we barely even know each other.” you asked with a puzzled look on your face.

“just worried about you, you live alone too. i’ll be the one to take care of you today.” he said, catching you off guard.

“oh—don’t you have other important things to do?” you ask, doing your best to avoid his eyes.

“no, i don’t actually. today’s my rest day.” he replied.

“then i feel bad if you’d end up spending your time taking care of me. i can take care of myself!” you told him.

“trust me this is way more productive than rotting in bed all day.” he chuckled.

“oh… well in that case, what do you wanna do?” you asked, stomach making a slight noise after smelling the heavenly aroma of the soup he brought in.

“your stomach’s telling us to eat first, yn.” he responded with a little laugh.

as you finish up your yummy noodle soup, you see wonbin eyeing you from the corner of your eye.

you turn to him to ask a question, in hopes of breaking the tension and unbearable silence.

“sooo do you wanna watch something? or we could do something else if you want.” you offered.

“yeah, anything is fine.” he said, his eyes wandering on your face. he looked at your eyes, to your lips, and then your eyes again.

a silence filled the room as you blanked out when you saw him do that. you remember seeing online that what he just did was the Triangle Method. it’s what you do to make someone fall in love with you.

WAS HE TRYING TO FLIRT WITH ME? no no no, never. i must be seeing things—men these days. you thought.

could he tell your face was turning red from his gaze? you couldn’t get that thought out of your hazy little brain. you hoped the warm and dim lighting of the room could cover up the fact that your cheeks were turning into tomatoes.

you try to maintain your composure, “okay, how about Cheer Up? i’ve always wanted to start watching that drama, so why not do it with you?”

he nods his head in approval. the two of you switch locations and move to the couch as you find Netflix on your TV.

it’s only been half an hour and you’re starting to doze off. maybe it’s the effects of being sick.. or that you accidentally took the medicine with sleepy side effects today.

sitting next to wonbin, you unconsciously rest your head on his shoulder as you progressively get drowsier. he doesn’t budge though—he lets you rest your head comfortably on his shoulder as you like.

a few hours had passed and the two of you were still in the same position as you were when this first happened. his arms started cramping, trying their best not to move or else you might feel his movement and wake up. however, he could no longer take it. noticing that you were sound asleep, he gently lifts your head and moves it to rest on the wall as he uses this opportunity to stretch his arms. once they felt normal again, he moves your head back to lay on his comfy shoulders.

he lets you sleep again for about an hour as he uses his phone, taking pictures of you from time to time because he found you pretty even while you were knocked out.

eventually he does have to go back to his place. to him, this was actually a good replacement bonding moment for the two of you. his bandmate was here to pick him up, so he wakes you and says his goodbyes. you were shocked by the position the two of you were in. on top of that, you saw that his shirt had a darker, almost wet looking area. hold on, did you drool on him? oh my this was so embarrassing for you.

masterlist | next

TAGLIST : OPEN (comment to be added)

@binoyu @sqh3e @antosaurius @yoursyuno @jvngw0nlvr @dorritoni @dudekiss3r @tadadw

[igotanidea]

Rom-com, doubts and older brother complex : Dick Grayson x sister!reader

„Hey you, how was the movie?” Dick grinned with the brightest smile upon seeing his sister back from the cinema. Said sister however was far from being happy. “Y/N?”

“Yes? I mean, yes, sure, hi Dickie. It was fine, I guess.”

“Oh no.” he muttered

“What?”

“You got that face.”

“What face?!” involuntarily she glanced at the mirror just to check whether her older brother was serious or just trying to prank her.

“Please tell me you are not psychoanalyzing the movie.”

“Psycho…..? What? Me? Pfff, never.” She scoffed

“Mhm. Sure.”

“I’m sorry, what is your problem here, Grayson?” Y/N crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance. “Honestly I came home hoping for some peace and quiet and I feel so attacked right now.”

“Are you doing this… what was it called….?” Dick scratched his head searching for the right word “watcher insert!”

“IT’S READER INSERT!”

“Well, it was a movie, so definitely watcher insert. And you practically admitted you do.”

“I DID NOT SAY A THING LIKE THAT!”

“You didn’t have to. Like I said, you got that face.” He shrugged, absolutely not convinced and unimpressed by her yelling.

“Ugh! You are insufferable!”

“Part of my charm, you know that. Now come on, come sit here and tell me what got you spinning, huh? As a big brother…..”

“Please, spare me the talk about oldest sibling and all the duties that come with it. I can handle my own shit.” She hesitantly perched on the armrest of the sofa, but Dick was not satisfied with that and grabbed her by the waist pulling next to him.

“Come on, sis, don’t be stubborn” he pinched her stomach getting a slap on the hand in exchange “that hurt.”

“Serves you well!”

“Ok, I’ll stop. Jokes aside. Get out of that head of yours and walk me through it ‘cause I don’t get it. You went to the movie theatre to have some fun ….unlike someone we know….. and came back stuck in thinking and, let me put it simply, melancholic. Not really a normal reaction after a young adult movie. It’s young adult, right?” he frowned

“You got that one right.” She sighed “I … I don’t really know. I mean, this movie was as cliché as possible and only confirm my belief that it’s not for me.”

“How come?”

“You know… nice girl, A-grade student, not knowing the bad side of life changes the surrounding, most likely moves out of the small town.  And in the city, she meets a guy, a well-known trouble-maker and more often than not, a womanizer. Of course, she swears she wants nothing to do with him but after an hour or so, couple of fights and few misunderstanding they end up together, most likely in a X-rated scene. And after another half hour, some family drama or demons from the past emerges, but all ends well and you get those fucking singing birds, shining sun, doves and all that shit. I’m so too old for that. And I think I’m starting to get bored with such films.”

“Are you?” he looked at her carefully, voice turning soft not to startle her.

“Yes.” She made a face at him

“Y/n. You say you hate it, but …”

“Don’t you dare say it!” she jumped on the couch and jabbed his chest “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“I won’t. I’ll leave that to you. Come on, say it out loud so we can process that. No one else is here.”

“I’m sorry, since when are you my therapist?”

“Since Bruce provided all his kids with trauma and forgot to equip them with the specialist to fix it. Say it.”

“I wish I have a cliché love story.” She looked down and hid face in hands because of the embarrassment. “But I’m not exactly a material for it.”

“Why not?” Dick asked, grabbing her hands and making him look at her ‘is it because you have four vigilante brothers? That can go well in a movie.” He grinned “I bet Bruce would love a cinematic work of art about himself. Can you imagine the movie “Batman?” Two and a half hours of him brooding on the screen and saving Gotham, all while looking like a sad, tormented cat” he laughed and waved his hands around

“I got this at the manor whenever I want. And when I don’t want as well. So hard pass on that movie, thanks. Jason would love it though. It would give him an opportunity to point out everything wrong with Bruce. And Tim…”

“Nice try, but stop getting off the track. Why do you think you can’t have a love story?”

“Cause I can’t define myself.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Dick’s eyes widened in disbelief “you think you need to put a tag on yourself? My lovely, crazy, irrational, foolish sister…”

“Look Dick, I’m a mess, all right? I can do hundred different things, but cannot excel in one. I start so many projects I don’t finish. I am disorganized, got plenty ideas per minute and it’s extremely hard to keep up with me. I'm stubborn, hot-headed and always need to do things my own way. ”

“So?” he shrugged

“What do you mean by so?" Y/N frowned "I don’t have routine, and apparently I’m supposed to. I’m not the best version of myself, I hate motivational quotes and I’m not sophisticated or elegant or even close to it. Shit, I hate dresses and skirts, my make-up is limited to the most basic one and I don't feel like I'm woman enough.”

“Ok, stop right there.” He cut her off “that last one is bullshit and as for the rest, why in the world would you think that eliminates you?”

“I… It just does.”

“Why?” he insisted

“will you stop this interrogation! Let me remind you, you are not a cop anymore!”

“Old habits die hard.” He blew a raspberry.

“Be a brother Dick. Sock me for wasting your time or hug me, just don’t do this….”

“Do you need a hug?” he asked opening his arms

“Yes, please” she mumbled, diving into his arms and hiding face in his shirt, smelling that familar scent. “This feels nice.”

“Told ya! Oldest brother. Now, since we are taking the comforting approach to the problem… all the things you mentioned are those what makes you, you. All right, pumpkin?” he bopped her nose “you could adopt someone else’s lifestyle, but would you feel better then? Doing all those things that does not seem like they are yours?”

“No…” she muttered

“See? You just keep doing your thing, ok? Cause when you do something that makes you happy, even if it seems like you’re a mess, you’re just glowing and that is what makes you special, you know.”

“Example?”

“You were writing, last night, and you had that focus and spark in your eyes. Nothing but you and your ideas, put in words on the sheet. You were just beaming. That was you. You don’t need to put  a tag on yourself, believe me. It's not a competition or anything.“

"Really?" she pulled back and eyed him, raising one eyebrow "'cause you are absolutely not the one who would join The Bachelor, right?"

"That's irrelevant..." as much as he did not like it, her words made him blush a bit. (did she find that application form he hid under the bed?!)

"Let's agree to disagree" she grinned "I'll importune you for explanation on that matter later. And since we're on the subject, what about....?"

“Do you think me the role model on relationship advice?” he smirked, but a bit of sadness crept in “I made a lot of mistakes and speaking from experience, I can tell you just can’t hurry that. Just keep your mind open?”

"Did you just admit defeat in the romance matter, Dickie?" she mocked.

"Romance? Hell no! Just long-term relation..."

"Don't worry, big brother" she his his shoulder playfully "you keep my secret safe, I keep yours. But still, that’s the worst advice I ever got.”

“Maybe…” he tickled her tummy making poor girl squeal “think Damian would have better one?”

“He’s younger than me, sure as hell I’m not gonna ask him!”

“I’m serious, sis. Once you figure out who you are inside, even if it’s a bit complicated and come to terms with it, everything will fall in place.”

“Still the worst advice ever, but thank you for trying, Dickhead.”

“Doing my best for my little princess.”

“Ugh! Stop calling me that name!”

“You used to like it.”

“I was 7 years old!!”

“All right, fine, hold the fire” Dick raised his hands in surrender “Gosh, for someone who got so much fire inside, you suffer from too little self-value.”

“Four vigilante brothers can do that to a girl.”

“Y/N? I need you to promise me one thing.”

“Shoot.”

“When you get in a relationship you will let me act like big protective brother.”

“You may have to wait a while, but sure, it that’s your dream…”

“How about I play that role in a Nightiwng suit?”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY GRAYSON!”

[autisticlancemcclain]

part one

———

“You did what.”

Keith coughs. “We, uh, we got married.”

“Accidentally,” Lance pipes up, because he can see the Stress Muscle in Shiro’s eyebrow start to twitch, and doesn’t want him to start freaking out which will make Keith get defensive and put his foot in his mouth — he’s as bad as Lance, really — and then the whole thing will be more difficult to handle than it already is. “It’s a whole big thing.”

Shiro stares at them for several minutes, then sighs, sitting heavily onto the kitchen floor with his bowl of goo. He shovels a bite in his mouth, then reaches blindly for the intercom switch on the wall, slapping around until he finally manages to hit it.“Team,” he says tiredly as it crackles to life, “please make your way to the kitchen. Keith and Lance made something stupid again.” He drops his hand back down, returning his full attention to his goo, committing to pretending Keith and Lance aren’t in the room.

Which.

Fair.

“I resent that ‘again’,” Keith mutters petulantly. “We’ve been remarkably well-behaved lately.”

“No,” Shiro says, without a second of hesitation. He doesn’t bother arguing.

It doesn’t take the rest of the team long to get here — Hunk and Allura have appeared to have sprinted, drama loving bastards — and they join Shiro on the floor, turning expectant eyes to the Red and Black Paladins. After a look of deliberation, Keith and Lance sit down, too.

“Tell them what you just told me,” Shiro says, voice garbled through his food goo.

Here’s the thing.

Lance knows he should feel nervous. Or worried, or scared, or embarrassed, even, about getting literally magically bound to his self-proclaimed rival (once a rival always a rival) because he got brained by the jacket that he left unattended. It is, objectively, a sitcom-level ridiculous situation. He knows that he is going to be shamed, and possibly gently bullied.

However.

Keith’s hand still grips him tightly. Lance doubts the Black Paladin has noticed, but every so often he runs his thumb over his knuckles, and every time he does his lips twitch up in the slightest smile. Lance couldn’t feel anything but ludicrously happy if he tried.

Plus. He and Keith just, like, made out in the hallway a bunch. If Lance is being honest, his brain is still kind of fuzzy. He’s half focused on everyone else and half focused on replaying the feeling of Keith’s hands pressed to his cheeks, cupping his face, kissing him like he was drowning and Lance’s lungs were the only place he could get oxygen. He’s still kind of lightheaded, and keeps having to fight off giggles.

“We got married,” Lance says, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face.

As much as the team is used to their shit, that visibly shocks them. Coran squints at them and types something rapidly into his tablet. Pidge cusses and hands Allura a handful of GAC, which she pockets with a cackle. Hunk is the only outlier, the only one with a reaction Lance can’t place: he straightens up, looking between them with narrowed eyes, mouth flattened into a line.

“Explain yourselves.”

“It was an accident,” Keith assures, much like Lance did earlier. But instead of expressing is understanding, Hunk’s eyebrows only climb higher. Lance gets the same distinct feeling he gets when he knows he pressed the Wrong dialogue option in a video game.

“I hope you didn’t marry my best friend on accident, Kogane.”

Lance puts his head in his hands. He can physically feel the panic leeching from his husband’s (!!) body. He considers all the ways he can murder his best friend and make it look like an accident. He honestly doesn’t think he’s ever been this mortified in his life.

“No no no, I didn’t mean accident, well I guess I did —”

“Hunk,” Lance says through grit teeth. Hunk gives him a ‘what did I do’ look, stubborn set to his shoulders. Lance vows to take a seam ripper to his shirts.

“— like it was technically not a planned sequence of events, per se, if you want to look at things technically —”

Hunk continues to stare at Keith with his eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. Lance digs around in his pockets for something to chuck at his face.

“— if it went according to how I’d planned it in my head there would be more flowers involved, probably, and we’d be on Earth at least, but it kind of just happened, you know? It was so fast I swear I couldn’t have done anything —”

Lance tears his gaze away from Hunk and stares at his rambling mess of a husband. Any annoyance practically evaporates from his system as the implications of Keith’s words set in.

“You thought about marrying me?”

Keith flushes redder than he already is. “I’m not answering that.”

Lance barely manages to shove down the giddy laughter that bubbles up his throat. Keith, his crush, his rival, his husband, spent time daydreaming about marrying Lance. And kissing him, probably, and holding him and building a future with him. Keith maybe even got just as flustered as Lance did when they got too close, back off when sparing got a little too close, breathing heavy. The knowledge is exhilarating. Lance leans over, pressing his beaming smile to Keith’s lips. He softens immediately.

“I thought about marrying you, too.” He smirks. “Among other things.”

Keith’s gloved hand finds it’s way back up to his cheek, for the second time today, and the blood rushing in his ears downs out the sound of Pidge gagging.

“Gross. Can we force them to divorce? This is worse than the pining.”

“Physically impossible for me to divorce him,” Lance murmurs, distracted. “Since he technically owns me, now. Kind of.”

Keith makes a face. “I hate that a little.” He presses one last chaste kiss to Lance’s mouth before pulling away. It’s casual, and small, but the novelty of it is not lost on Lance.

He was not kissing Keith this morning, that was for certain.

It’s not until Lance manages to blink away his ga-ga eyes that he realizes that the rest of the team is looking at him in shocked confusion, and it clicks that his sentence would, sans context, be kind of horrifying to hear.

“Oh,” he blurts, without thinking, “I’m a Selkie.”

“You’re bad at this whole revelation thing,” Keith notices. “I think my Galra thing was somehow handled better.”

“Shut up.”

To his credit, Keith’s observation isn’t too far off. If anything everyone’s shock has only worsened, and it’s clear that Lance’s messy, half-explanations aren’t going to do much. The Alteans could probably do with some actual historical context, but for now, Lance thinks a demonstration is the wisest choice. And since he doesn’t have an ocean available to him, he decides to do the next best thing.

He slips his jacket carefully over his shoulders, spreading it out over his legs and gently running his fingertips over the rough canvas. Just as in his room, the fabric begins to blur, warp, change. He understands the change that is happening — it is his coat, after all; his own flesh — but he cannot find the words to describe it. There may not be. The coat simply changes in a way that is not comprehensible by non-Selkie eyes, as evidenced in the various strangled noises of bewilderment around him. Even Keith looks at the pelt in awe, unused to Earthen magic.

“How long have you been a seal person?” Pidge asks, hands twitching like she’s itching to touch.

“Two decades,” Lance says drily.

It doesn’t take long for the shock to melt away. That’s due in part to everyone’s curiosity, and the rest is because, as Lance suspected, their lives are just so goddamn weird — this Selkie thing just doesn’t even make top ten.

“So was that what the whole dramatic running out of the common room was about earlier?” Hunk clarifies.

Lance nods. “Yeah. I didn’t…I got too comfortable. Left my pelt out, Keith tossed it at me, boom, it’s not longer mine. Luckily I was wrong about how dangerous that is, ‘cause I didn’t lose my free will or anything, but I am essentially married to Keith now. So.” He turns to his husband and grins. “I don’t think he minds.”

Ignoring Pidge’s mutter of “here we go again,” Keith smiles back, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I don’t.”

“I’m sorry you weren’t comfortable before.”

Lance looks up at Shiro, startled by the seriousness in his voice. His tired look from earlier is gone, replaced with something narrow-eyed, serious.

“Huh?”

“You said you got too comfortable.” He gestures to Lance’s lap. “With your pelt. I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell us.”

“And I’m sorry for threatening you, Keith,” Hunk adds. “Well, it was barely a threat, but still.”

Keith reaches over to pat his shoulder. “All good, man. It was understandable. Lance probably warrants some threatening on his behalf.”

Lance narrows his eyes. He’s sure that’s an insult, somehow.

“Hunk, do not scare my husband away with your foolishness —”

“I know you’re just saying that to have an excuse to say ‘my husband’, you whipped simp —”

“Fuck off, no one asked you —”

“Pardon my interruption,” Coran says, holding up a hand. “But what is a Selkie?”

Allura raises her hand as well. “I would also like to know!”

“If I’ll be honest, I’m not that familiar with the legend either,” Pidge admits.

Lance pauses for a moment, considering. He knows that explaining everything would take a long time, and he knows he doesn’t have the energy for that. It’s something you learn over time, anyway, over years of stories at the right time. He can simplify some information, though. Get the point across.

“I’m not human,” he starts carefully. “I’m also not alien, not not-human. It’s complicated.” He runs his hand over the soft fur of his coat. “My pelt is like…a physical manifestation of my soul, I think. My quintessence? I’m not entirely sure. But when I wear it, I become another form of mine. Kind of like your shapeshifting, maybe? I turn into a seal, but I’m still very much me. And it’s not like I’m a seal with a human brain, or whatever. I’m a seal, I’m a human, I’m a Selkie. I’m never not those three things.”

Pidge cocks her head. “So you’re a seal right now?”

“Yeah. I’m a Selkie, I have to be. Unless my pelt were to be truly lost, I guess. If someone set it on fire I wouldn’t be a Selkie anymore. I’d lose my soul.”

“Jesus,” Pidge shudders.

Keith looks determinedly at him. “I won’t let that happen.”

“No shit,” Lance says, raising an amused eyebrow. “That’s your job now, Mullet. The pelt is yours to guard. You took it, it’s your responsibility.”

Keith’s determined expression does not change. Lance is just a little endeared but it. As unconventional as this has been, Keith genuinely seems to be excited to be with him. And if Lance trusts his word — which he does — then Keith has wanted to be with Lance for a while. With his space family’s approval, and the certainty that he will have the same from his Earth family when he makes it home, the weight he hadn’t realized he’d been carrying finally drops from his shoulders.

“God, I can’t wait to human marry you.”

Shiro sighs. This time, it sounds significantly more amused. He gets to his feet, dusting off his hands. “I guess that falls to me, huh,” he says, waving them over. “C’mere.”

Keith and Lance scramble up, running over to where Shiro stands, at the head of the table. He holds two twist-ties in his head that he has formed into rudimentary rings.

“I feel contractually obligated to remind you about Adam’s stance in elopement,” he says, looking pointedly at Keith. “And Lance, I don’t know your mother personally, but your sister and I were colleagues. You are also going to get into leagues or trouble when we get home.”

Lance grins brightly. “I am going to get in leagues of trouble anyway!”

Keith nods. “I left Earth against Adam’s specific instructions. I’m toast no matter what, so I might as well do the best thing I will ever do in my life before then.”

Lance’s ears burn. He glances down at his sneakers, embarrassed and pleased all at once.

He’s the best thing that Keith will ever do in his life. God.

“Well, that answers my first question, then.” Shiro turns to Lance. “Since Keith obviously does, do you, Lance, wish to take Keith as your lawfully wedded husband, so long as you shall live?”

Lance grins. “I would love nothing more.”

“Then by the power vested in me by the five dollar certificate I got online, I pronounce you wed. Congratulations. You may kiss the groom.”

Neither of them wait for Shiro to finish his sentence, surging forward immediately, colliding in the middle like magnets. Lance feels the weight of his pelt on his shoulders and Keith’s hands on his face in equal measures. It feels like swimming free.

[nerdishpursuits]

I don’t think @midniteowlet is wrong when she tells me Marta’s journey of self discovery and empowerment needs to culminate with her choosing Fina. And it needs to happen in spite of Fina’s well-meaning but misguided intentions when it comes to Marta’s marriage of convenience. Marta’s journey needs to culminate with her choosing Fina above all else now, or in the future.

And the more I think about their current situation, the more it makes sense. Marta choosing Fina and rejecting Pelayo’s offer would be the most validating declaration of intent Marta could ever make: I know this is hard and I know we’re risking it all, but I’d rather face the danger with you than, once more, become trapped and subjected to the whims of a man.

Fina pushed for this marriage out of fear but she needs to learn, like Marta did earlier in their relationship, that making choices out of fear leads nowhere good. And fear? It currently abounds. But they can face it all, together. After all, without fear there cannot be bravery … or so they say.

All this pre-wedding angst is also making us think there’s a 50/50 chance of the wedding happening. For drama purposes, it might. But if we consider parallels and character growth, the most sensible path would be for Marta to do a 180 and send the Olivares’ packing. It makes no sense to drive the angst to such levels and not come up with an unexpected plot-twist.

Marta is a very logical woman and she’s so damn good at compartmentalising, especially when there’s a plan she needs to follow. And this time? This time it’s a plan Fina herself convinced her to follow, so all the more reason to acquiesce. However, Marta’s every instinct is screaming at her this is wrong and were she to go through with it? The shackles of this marriage would become almost impossible to break (unless tragedy struck).

Let’s also consider the storm that’s brewing regarding the company, because it’s spreading like wildfire. The fuse has been lit and they’re all sitting on a powder keg. If anything, this is reason enough to, at least, postpone the wedding. Given the workers growing malcontent? It would look bad for the de la Reina to celebrate a high-society wedding. After all, they also need to be a contrast to Joaquin. It remains to be seen.

And speaking of the wedding. Pelayo, for once, went against mommy dearest by informing her Fina is definitely coming to the wedding. I think it’s obvious enough that Clara won’t rest until she’s had her way. Or tried her damn hardest to impose her will. The level of hypocrisy this woman possesses is truly astounding. I understand that as a mother she’s concerned for Pelayo, but her meddlesome ways only sow discord and malcontent. To have the gall to confront Fina, yet again, in order to remind her of her place? By all means, someone remind Clara it’s Pelayo who is inserting himself into an established relationship and not the other way around. The third wheel here is Pelayo, and never Fina. And it's also Pelayo who stands to profit the most, which Clara is all too happy to omit as she’s spreading her web of lies and deceit.

As for Fina? I was expecting that feisty character to warm up her engine yet, lo and behold: there’s a chance Clara might guilt-trip her into not attending Marta's wedding? Alarm bells indeed, especially considering Clara tells Fina to keep their conversation to herself. No one whose intentions are good would ask for that. And Clara knows very well that if Fina talks to Marta? Well, her plans go to hell in a hand-basket. And what better way to divide than to prey on Fina’s fears and encourage a lack of communication. The kind of manipulation this woman is capable of is not only infuriating but hugely problematic. Were the wedding to happen, this woman’s presence would definitely be a threat.

Doña Clara: Know your place

Fina: Indeed. It’s ON TOP. Of things. But mostly on top of Marta.

On a more positive note? Can I say how it never ceases to amaze me how healthy Fina and Marta’s relationship is? Fina left the storage room in a whirlwind and one would have expected her to burst into Marta’s office, angry and demanding answers. Instead, she calmly voices her fears and doubts. No reproaches, no making assumptions. She simply asks Marta to explain the why of her decision to leave Fina on the sidelines of preparing the wedding gifts. And this type of communication? It leads to an incredibly emotional exchange, a desperate reaffirmation of a love that consumes them whole and culminates in their own wedding vows.

I’m also curious if the show will end up in a Gervasio’s choice kind of situation with Mafin. I know that’s rather bleak but it would make for good storytelling. As things currently stand, the Merino believe theirs is the moral high ground and that they’re entitled to the company as if it were their inheritance and theirs alone. So if they had to face the same choice as Damián? Would they truly choose differently or would their ambition blind them entirely? Oh, the possibilities.

In the meantime, I’m glad the bathhouse project has been postponed, as Marta always said it should be. Not holding my breath that they’ll ever admit to being wrong though.

Of course, things rarely go as we expect them to. I’m sure there’s some surprises ahead. Some we’ll have seen coming, others not so much. Until now, the show has been very good at avoiding the obvious. Thus, I’m hoping they continue down this path.

I’m still waiting for the scenario where Marta gets hurt. Fina had her turn, now it stands to reason it’s Marta’s. We all know she’ll live, of course, but I’d take that stray bullet if it means there’s no damn wedding. In fact, considering Marta is going toe to toe with Jesús these days, I wouldn’t discard the possibility of her getting hurt by accident, especially if Jesús has an altercation with the Merino and Marta gets caught in the crossfire.

On a separate note? Kudos to Marta for being so kind to Maria and offering her support and understanding in spite of what happened. Also, that mountain of gifts for the wedding? Marta looks more and more desolate surrounded by them.

As for Marta and Fina’s office scene? It’s one of the most heartbreakingly beautiful scenes the show has ever delivered. And it packs such a gut punch precisely because it’s so relevant and relatable. It also manages to educate without being pedantic and that’s saying something.

Not only does it showcase the hardship and injustices LGBT couples experienced throughout history but also sheds light on a situation that’s, sadly, still ongoing for many people, people who just happen to love differently.

On a final note. Marta and Fina’s love is as pure as love can be. No God or laws of men could ever dictate otherwise or make them feel ashamed. The fact that they don’t consider themselves less in a society that condemns them at every turn? It speaks volumes about their character and commitment to each other.

Random, but this shot needs to be in a museum: those Angel / Fallen Angel vibes are insane. Marta with Fina, desperately wanting to protect her woman.

Marta without Fina

P.s. that new promo they released has everyone looking either miserable, furious or a combination of both … doesn’t look like a successful wedding to me.

Also, I’m in favor of whatever makes Pelayo and Clara look like they’ve eaten something sour.

Then we have Marta looking like she’s headed to her execution and Fina’s devastation is simply heart wrenching.

Good times ahead. I need the storm to unleash already because this level of angst? As fun as it is, it’s also exhausting. Timeout, people. Timeout.

[nancylou444]

Hi Nancy,

I hope it's okay I turn to you with this, but I just recently joined spn tumblr so I haven't really discovered many blogs I share my opinions with yet (though I did find some awesome blogs I'm excited to follow, but most of them only really talk about spn and the characters and not the actors, and this ask is concerned with j2m and danneel). Buckle up, this will be long because I tend to over-explain myself. Sorry in advance.

So I've been in the fandom since 2018 but haven't really paid attention to the cast other than watching some gag reels/bloopers, interviews with j2(m) and clips from cons. I never dug deep into the relationships/dynamics of the cast members (and also took like a 3-year break from the fandom so I'm not at all up-to-date)

I like to think I'm pretty good at reading people (in that when I find someone likeable they tend to prove themselves to be a good person and when I dislike someone seemingly for no reason I usually discover some pretty fucked up things about that person later on. Obviously with celebrities you never actually know what they are like irl but so far I've been right about people as far as I know.)

All this to say that I had an inkling about misha from the start, even though I never cared enough to do my research and justify my dislike towards him. I always got this pick me vibe from him, and like he's trying to insert himself into the j2 friendship to seem more relevant and likeable. And it seemed pretty clear to me that he is clinging to jensen and making it look like they are besties, ignoring jared or making him look bad as much as he can get away with only to fuel destiehellers in their belief that jensen also supports destiel and that jared is to blame for it not being canon. I've since found your masterpost about why you're anti misha, and finally feel justified in my feelings towards him, so thank you for collecting his shitty displays in one place.

So what my ask is about (getting to my point at last) is that in my browsing the anti misha tags I came across the anti danneel tag and decided to check it out out of curiosity (and arrogance, as I wanted to see if I was right about danneel as well, since I always got a bad vibe from her too (even though I never actually paid attentionto her)). And I did find some things that makes me think her and jensen's relationship isn't a healthy one built on mutual love and respect, and is possibly even abusive. I'm inclined to believe it not only because of my own instinct, but because of a video I saw where jensen's body language screamed that he is uncomfortable while sitting next to danneel who was rubbing/petting his back (though I don't have context for that clip so there might be another explanation for his body language that I'm not aware of). However the only 'evidence' about her being abusive was instagram posts that were (slight) jabs at jensen, that could just as likely be playful teasing as actual bullying depending on their relationship dynamic and whether the teasing is reciprocated imo (& there's no way of knowing how they interact in private so who knows). I'd be curious to know if there are more concrete instances of her treating jensen badly or generally being a bad person, but I couldn't really find anything useful in the tags.

But anyways, reading these posts I discovered yet another anti tag, this time anti jensen, which I definitely did not expect. I obviously know about The Winchesters drama but I thought they moved past it and are tight again, so I'm confused about what other reason there is for people to be anti jensen. I've seen some posts discussing him not standing up for jared/not being very supportive of him, siding with misha (though I'm especially sceptical about that one) etc.

I would like to be better informed about these things without having to watch hours of footage to analyse their interactions or read through hundreds of posts that either have some proof or not, without having to decipher whether what someone says is their opinion/interpretation or actual things that happened. From looking through some of your posts you seem to be well informed and trustworthy, so I'd kindly ask if you could explain the situation to the best of your knowledge or refer me to someone who has more information regarding danneel and jensen's relationship as well as jensen and jared's and can provide receipts. Thank you so much, and again sorry for this super long ask <3

Hello my darling.❤️ Nothing to apologize for.

@lightofraye recently posted an awesome anti danneel post with pics and videos. HERE

As for anti Jensen, for me, the prequel mess is a done deal. J2 have moved on from it and are besties again. I have the 'anti jensen' tag blacklisted. I really don't see him picking misha over ANYONE, let alone Jared.

Maybe @its-sassyboots @hologramcowboy or @walkergirlsposts can help you with the anti Jensen stuff.

[lazywriters-blog]

BAD SON

Warning: DRAMA, forced relationship, just Aqua being the creepy manipulative dork he is, two stalkers playing, sorta friends to enemies? Enemies to menaces. Not really yandere?

Summary: You come to realize your friend had been trying to stab you in the back. Being a skilled stalker works well in these situations.

In all honesty, he couldn't be doing anything wrong. These were just tricks to get her close, to make sure things went his way and he could breathe easy, every once in a while, he deserves it. For everything to succeed, there's hardships first so if he took the time to brace through the storm, he could have the puzzle pieces.

But perhaps, he underestimated how mentally strong one can be, all the things that are supposed to hurt her and get her to ask for help, resulted in a rather odd reaction. She ended up getting stronger, more independent, and more capable than before.

And she didn't come running to him.

He even made sure to offer help, standing there willingly so that she could see him as clearly as day, spoke to her, and reassured her, however, his plans had holes in them.

She did not ask for help. From him. They did not get any closer than they already were. She even avoided him, building invisible walls, and he had to wonder if she knew he controls the situation to his liking and pushes some to fall in place. A manipulator.

Even though her reputation had been torn down and shredded into bits, she smiles. She smiles.

He could have given up, let her be, let her breeze through peacefully but should he admit defeat so early on? He can't, he won't. How long can a person withstand verbal harassment before breaking down? Not forever, he can be her ally, her best friend.

He had to make himself impossible to ignore. He just had to make her come to him.

"Hey." he approached her sitting at her marked bench, and she hadn't noticed him watching her from a distance, did she like to pretend?

"Hi. Is there something wrong?" she replied, shifting over to make space between them.

"No."

"O... Kay? Then, what's up? Did you find the one behind the rumors? You did say you would but you don't need to worry about it." she grinned, looking away to the ground, anything to not make eye contact. Was she secretly ashamed?

"I don't break my promises," he said, crossing his arms as he leaned back, "you didn't make a promise though." she raised her eyebrows, blinking a couple of times before turning away.

"I appreciate it, but I have a hunch on who did it." she swayed her legs back and forth, maintaining her smile, "I'm not too sure yet."

"How do you know?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, just connected the dots, and boom! I found it, but there were only three people who knew about it, my tendency to play around with anyone sure is troublesome but eh what can I do?" she mused, pouting.

"But you know, I realized an interesting clue. No one who could have spread it is any better than me, so I think it's someone I know but haven't quite yet gotten to know them." she looked at him, stretching her smile wider she kept her gaze on him, "But, yeah like I said, I'm not sure, because I can't care about everybody hehe." she quickly turned her face dropping her smile and softly glaring at passengers.

"You know..." she slowly started, "we don't know each other that much, right? Strange, even though we've been friends for months," she stated, sitting up straight she glanced back at him, "the other day, I'm pretty sure I followed you around, and you didn't even notice me." she frowned, quietly waited for the response she had envisioned in her head.

However, he had nothing to say but his face surely indicated some of the things his poker face couldn't hide.

"I even made sure to call out your name, but at last, you didn't even see me." she sighed louder, "Pity really, we could have been best friends." she got up, staring down at his facade.

"I hope you go to hell." she hissed, disgust was written over her face, and no matter what he said, nothing would change in the slightest, she had already walked away and left him behind.

Maybe he isn't as good as he thought himself out to be, he's let pride rust his brain.

Just as he had ruined her reputation, she ruined his, doing plenty to hurt him in the long run, and he didn't like how it stung, how despite being careful, he wasn't careful enough, she could have been the special tool he could use, but she had more personas than one.

How was he going to recover her?

Who told her he was behind the rumors, did she figure it out herself by following him around? Could she still have dirt on him she could use to threaten him with, when had she trailed him? He couldn't have mentioned anything about his final plan.

He couldn't afford another slip-up.

He had to get her on his side.

A fake love confession seemed to be his only chance if she's got more tricks up her sleeves, then he would have to dig deeper to find her darkest secrets. Her weakest points. He couldn't sit back and let anyone give him what he doesn't want.

The next time they had a project together, he'd get her to come, alone. She wasn't anybody special, and he won't let her top him.

The fun part was, nobody wanted to be partners with him, so by default, pulling some strings to get someone to exchange with him wasn't hard. Since, well, both of them were outcasts at this point.

"Hm... You are one hell of an enemy," she muttered to herself, pushing her face against her palm as she looked outside, "by now, you could have saved yourself, I'm sure people would believe you more than me, but oh well, they sure would be blind then." she giggled.

"I want to meet you after school." he bluntly uttered after ignoring her words, "What a joke, you want to confess to me or something?" she smugly stated, intently side-eyeing him.

"Even if you were sincere about it, you're an actor," she smirked, "you are supposed to fool everyone with your charm and looks, and most of the time, it works." she shrugged.

"Alright, if you insist." he wanted to shut her up anyway, so taking a quick look at their subject teacher, he pulled her face to his and dismissed the shocked face of his classmate when he kissed her. As soon as it began, it ended.

This way, it was sure to spark more gossip. Bring her to him even if she didn't want to.

And it worked, she and he were a thing in the eyes of the people. Even if, she hadn't accepted his confession, he wasn't going to give her a choice. Everything should be going his way.

He's going to make sure she falls in love.

"We should finish this project today." he stopped her by the entrance, grabbing her wrist and making it impossible for her to leave. "I'll come if you want."

"No need," she argued, softly attempting to pull away from him without causing a scene, "It would be better if you let go now. I don't want to report you for sexual harassment and make your career a burning pile of garbage."

"Would they believe you?" he spoke, "I'm the one with connections, not you. So let's make some concessions."

"I don't care, let go! Don't touch me!" she forced her hand out of her grasp and made haste to the exit, and if anyone had paid attention to them, he hopes it makes them think they are closer than anybody else in the whole world. Because the last thing he wanted is for his plans to fail.

She was making it harder for him.

At this rate, he was going to lose her.

With her help, he's sure they can easily overpower his wicked father, he needs this relationship to work. He will make it work.

He will fall in love and so will she.

[deobienthusiast]

Toxic Till The End | YJH

• pairing: toxic bf!yoon jeonghan x reader

• word count: 1.8k words

• genre: toxic bf au, no happy ending, angst, cheating, just straight drama

• rating: PG

• warnings: jeonghan is an asshole in this and this story in no way reflects how jeonghan truly is as a person. cheating, manipulation, toxic relationships

• notes: HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY SANAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA @sanaxo-o! she specifically asked for blonde, toxic jeonghan so ask and you shall receive. stay strong military wife, he’ll be home soon

You would like to say your judgment was good. People always commended you on your good judge of character, but clearly you were led all askew by your own self.

The day you met Yoon Jeonghan was one of complete annoyance. He was seated towards the back of your Ethics class. Never by himself, usually accompanied by another boy was incredibly soft spoken. You remember your professor asking a question that led to a heated debate between you and Jeonghan. No matter how many times you backed up your rebuttal, Jeonghan always had the last word. It bothered you to no end. Every final word ended with a smirk on Jeonghan’s park, his striking blonde hair becoming a color that you hated. This constant disagreement became an everyday occurrence during class. So much so, that your professor became fed up with it, forcing you both to stay after to clean the classroom.

Jeonghan was not helpful in any way, opting to sit in his favorite spot in the back and just watch, making snarky little comments about everything you did.

“You know, you could help considering you’re the reason we’re both here.” You spoke loudly.

Jeonghan chuckled. “No sweetheart. We’re in here because you couldn’t handle not winning the argument.”

His comment made you stop as you spun on your heels. He remained seated, blonde hair losing its styled whimsy from his hand constantly running through it. He gave you a smirk, eyeing you up and down.

“You are such an asshole.” You mumbled.

“And you’re gorgeous.”

Jeonghan’s comment made your eyes widen. You watched him stand up, slowly making his way down the stairs as he stopped in front of you. He wasn’t the tallest, but the height difference was there, forcing you to tilt your head up at him.

“What did you say?” You whispered.

“Come on, you’ve heard every comment I’ve made all day. Now all of a sudden you can’t hear? Typical.”

Jeonghan took another step forward, prompting you to take one back, the back to your thighs touching your professor’s desk.

“Let me take you out.” Jeonghan whispered.

You scoffed. “I’ve heard about you. I know how you are. Never in a million years would I let you take me out.”

“I’ll just keep asking,” Jeonghan told you, an alarm on your phone going off to alert you that you could leave. “I’m very persistent, and I always get what I want.”

Jeonghan smiled this time, a truly genuine smile that made your insides warm. He looked ethereal in the lighting. And that’s how it started. Suddenly his blonde hair wasn’t so ugly. His voice wasn’t so annoying. But you, however, were so screwed.

Whatever your relationship was with him was not pretty. A mixture of love on some days and hatred on another. You were beginning to forget the early days of your relationship where he would drop you off at your dorm and you would be a smiling mess. Now all you could do is send a text to your roommate so she was prepared for the heart mending she’d have to do.

Jeonghan was toxic. That much was for sure. His ability to have the sweetest personality on hand at the flip of a switch just to charm people. Meanwhile, he was hot and cold with you. You never knew what to expect with Jeonghan, but you knew you never wanted it to end. No matter how bad you felt or how much you cried, he was your everything.

Petty arguments over something as simple as who you were hanging out with or who you were texting. Fights occuring at all hours of the day.

“Who was he?” Jeonghan yelled, following you through your dorm.

Your roommate opting to spend the night at someone else’s house anytime he stayed over because as she liked to say 3 am was Jeonghan’s “witching hours”.

“Every time I pick you up from class he’s with you. What’s going on between the two of you?”

You felt a headache coming on. It was every day, nonstop. His jealousy mounting everytime he picked you up from class.

You felt tears welling in your eyes, threatening to spill over which caught Jeonghan’s attention.

“Oh my god, not you crying again. You always cry. I can’t do this.” He grumbled, pushing past you towards the door.

Panic set in.

“Wait, don’t leave. I’ll stop talking to him. Please, I’ll do whatever you want.” You begged.

Jeonghan stopped at the door, letting out a sinister chuckle. “Of course you will.”

Turning around slowly, he waltzed over to you. His large hands cupped your face, wiping away the tears. You brought your hands up to cover his, basking in the closeness and warmth that you’ve been refused for days. You were desperate for some sort of physical contact with the boy.

Your cries turned to sniffles as Jeonghan consoled you.

“I hate it when you cry, but god you just make me so angry. I’m trying to protect you, okay? He’s bad news.” Jeonghan said quietly.

You could only nod, knowing that what he was saying wasn’t going to turn out well for you, but you were so far gone at this point you didn’t care.

These were just typical days in your “relationship” with Jeonghan. The fighting and constant apologizing on your part, even if you weren’t at fault.

Friends stopped trying. They hated the way he treated you. Him constantly going out and enjoying his life while you were like a caged dog, constantly being watched and never being allowed to do anything. You chalked it up to him being protective and worried, but deep down you knew they were right.

“He’s not good for you.”

“You’re going to end up very hurt at the end.”

Eventually they stopped trying. What was the point if you would never listen. You became isolated, trading everyone in just to be with Jeonghan all the time (or as much as he would allow you to spend with him).

You were like a woman possessed. Hanging on his every word. Despite knowing how bad he was for you, you couldn’t help yourself. Jeonghan was a drug, and you were his addict.

Everything came to a head at the big party he and his friend Joshua threw. The whole school was there. Jeonghan invited you, of course, but you hadn’t seen him the whole night. You began to grow restless at the fact that you couldn’t find your boyfriend. Noticing your friends huddled off in a corner, you started towards them.

The conversation they were having silenced quickly as you squeezed into the group. Sharing glances with each other, one of them spoke up.

“Long time no see.” She started.

Her tone didn’t sit right, a pit forming in your stomach. You truly hadn’t seen them in a while. Spending all your free time on Jeonghan (like he wanted you too) left very little time with your friends. If you could even call them that anymore.

“How are you guys?” You asked softly.

You heard one of them scoff before you spoke again.

“Have you seen Jeonghan?”

“You have got to be kidding.” Your friend said.

Suddenly you felt unwelcome.

You went to open your mouth to speak before she interrupted. “He’s upstairs. When up there a while ago, hasn’t come back down.”

You felt a rush of relief fall over you now that you knew Jeonghan was at least at the party, and hadn’t already left you like he did last time. Sending a thank you over your shoulder, you went to walk away before feeling a pull on your arm.

“So that’s it? That’s all you wanted from us?” Your friend questioned.

You frowned, realizing how bad what you’re doing is, but you really needed to find Jeonghan.

Your friend took your silence as an answer, letting go of your arm. “You’re unbelievable.”

The grip on your arm gave you the opportunity to rush up the stairs, wanting to remove yourself from the awkward situation that your relationship with Jeonghan had caused. Making your way towards his room, you got a funny feeling. It almost felt like a pressure being put on your chest the closer you got to his door.

Your feet stopped right in front of the door as you took in a breath. Right as your hand reached the handle, the door flew open. The sudden opening startled you as you jumped back. A girl stood in front of you, and almost immediately you recognized her.

Jeonghan’s ex.

She gave you a smirk before pushing past you. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow her as her hips swayed with every step. Looking back at the room, Jeonghan was throwing a shirt over his head. You took a step forward as you spoke.

“Jeonghan,” Your soft voice caught his attention as he turned towards you. “What did you do?”

The boy ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry about it.”

He went to head towards the door before looking you up and down. “You look cute.”

As he walked past you gripped his arm. “You cheated on me.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, starting to get annoyed. “Why are you making such a big deal?”

You couldn’t believe him. “Jeonghan you cheated on me. I’m your girlfriend and you went behind my back and slept with another girl. Your ex, at that.”

Jeonghan began to chuckle. “Girlfriend? Since when?”

You froze. “We’ve been dating for almost six months.”

He shook his head, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes. “Oh sweetheart, you didn’t actually think you were the only girl I was seeing did you?”

The pressure on your chest now felt like it was mounting. The air felt thinner. Was it always hard to breathe up here? The tears began to fall. Hot, wet streaks running down your face as you turned to him.

“But I love you. Please don’t do this.”

Jeonghan sighed, turning back towards you. Bringing his hands up to your face, he wiped the tears. Jeonghan leans down to place a soft but firm kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, he let out a low sinister laugh.

“You love me?” He asked you, keeping a firm grip on your face with both of his hands.

You could only nod, head fuzzy from the kiss. The effect he had on you was embarrassingly strong.

He laid another kiss on your lips before speaking again. “Would you do anything for me?”

Through lidded eyes, you nodded as he ran his finger over your lower lip. Jeonghan nodded with a hum, feeling satisfied with your answers.

He gave you a quiet ‘good’ as he laid another kiss to your lips. This time a much deeper kiss. He knew what he was doing, and you knew that no matter what you were an absolute goner.

[vonbabbitt]

people misunderstand your characters so badly that i lwk feel sorry for you. getting more information about the characters after forming the expectations we have of them into our heads is an absolute mind boggle but imagine how its like for you, getting these either INSANE takes, outright WRONG opinions, or absolutely INSULTING impressions of your characters by people who sugarcoated them too sweetly.

i notice it is mainly concerning the ones on the nicer side. it is either "they're too nice, there isn't ANY CHANCE that they'd be like that," or "they're too nice. immediately has bad intentions" for the completely wrong people (in the terms that it should be reversed).

this isn't drama (and for the sake of *me* not being misunderstood i won't name any characters in particular), i'm just telling you that i empathise with you wholeheartedly. that's if you actually feel that way.. i might be crashing out over nothing after realising i sugarcoated them too and realising that not many others haven't stopped doing that yet.

i notice your mini details that are expressed without words. i notice it all and im so sorry that some people are literaturely(?) incompetent. especially with the *situation* these guys are in, regarding both studentside and staffside, which cannot be comprehended by usual reality- because it also isn't?? we have an eldritch being in a world of multiple planes of existence living amongst each other????

every time somebody calls out a character for their *character*, i just want to scream. like no samantha they aren't at home with their loving family and friends by their side with no disorders or bad things going on in their life. they are either IN a killing game unwillingly, OPERATING a killing game unwillingly, doing things they wouldn't normally do regarding their circumstances and fear response, doing everything they can impulsively think of to SURVIVE and not be harmed, however they deem the word 'pain'.

sure, i hate them too. sure, i HATED them too. but i can acknowledge and understand that what they are going through is INHUMANE and LITERALLY UNIMAGINABLE????? "i wouldn't act like that!" HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT??? YES YOU WOULD (MAYBE)???

thank god for all the information you hand out freely. thank god for everything you provide for us. i cannot stress this enough. i just absolutely cannot believe that people will undermine characters just because they haven't been barely clinging onto life before. that people will undermine them because they haven't had their lives on the line before. (whether thats regarding them or the characters, it goes both ways)

sorry for the rant case in point im pretty crazy over tetro like im exhilarated and then we have people like this like do me a favour and ◼️◼️◼️ ◼️◼️◼️◼️ ◼️◼️◼️◼️ plz

your characters are eerily human and realistic and i believe people just cannot or refuse to process that. i did at first. learning about certain characters that i wanted dead and rotting? the way it clicked. the fucking way it clicked im telling you i HEARD and i FELT it

go on von, put er there

you aren't lazy at all you're fucking overworking yourself. that's not under a guise, you are a spectacularly dedicated person with talent incomparable to most; can i say everyone without being called a glazer? consider yourself perfection. you'll always be hardworking to us. like you genuinely make me cry whether thats tears of pride or sadness or resonance or joy. sharing your content with those i love brings a bond so powerful full of feelings, i pray for the time you sit down and realise how much you really are and how much we consider you to be.

thank you von. truly. you never fail to make us happy in a torturous world like ours. i hope you make yourself happy too. i wish you the best for your present and future. may your life be pure and peaceful, no harm or debilitating agony will come your way. i hope your most fulfilling passion to commit to and embrace will be yourself, and i hope you can and will realise that sooner. you deserve a world you can and *will* call your own and live free and real. 🤍

i apologise for assuming you felt those ways; i hadn't checked the faq. but warmheartedly, how we feel about you still stands. don't give me that "don't speak for everyone!!" bullshit because THEY DOOOOOOO IVE SEEN IT WITH MY OWN EYESSSSS and if you do that just to give yourself a reason to feel bad about yourself then nooooooo please don't do that actually feel good about yourself i sound selfish for using 'i' because i fucking know its not just me who's inspired by you.

im so sorry if i sound passive aggressive in this last bit i promise im not doing it intentionally, i'm not that good at wording my feelings when im disappointed at the possibility that you may feel inclined to believe otherwise. there i go with the empathy yeah yeah i really don't mean to phrase it like that im so sorry

PUT ER THERE

anon i didnt know you could send an ask this long i thought there was a character limit