#a levels and writing and everything

[teddybeartoji]

neighbor!toji finds you sitting in front of your apartment door late at night as he's coming home and at first, he's really not planning on saying anything. he still doesn't know you, he hasn't talked to you – the most you've gotten is a look and a nod whenever you happen to take the elevator with him or when you just bump into him on your way out. and he really isn't the type to make small talk but with your knees pulled to your chest and your head rested on top of your hands, you look miserable and toji finds it very hard to ignore you.

he keeps stealing glances at your curled up figure as he searches for the keys in his pocket and it's only when he's got the door open, he swallows the weird lump in his throat.

"y'wanna come inside?" his voice is raspy, tired, but it does the job of luring you out of your little bubble.

there's a moment of silence.

toji isn't stupid, he knows the dangers of the world and it doesn't take him long to realize how strange his offer might sound. his eye twitches out of sheer embarrassment as he averts his gaze, rough fingers fidgeting with the keys in his hand.

"that would be really nice actually, yeah."

there's no suspicion in your tone, nothing that would indicate that you're thinking what he's thinking. toji's mossy green eyes meet yours and he's met with a look he knows all too well.

exhausted.

"just so i can charge my phone?" you're already trying to apologize for yourself. to tell him that you'll only stay for as long as you need, afraid that you're bothering him.

but he just gives you a hum, patiently waiting for you to push yourself off the ground. for a moment, you stand next to him in front of the door, waiting for him to step inside first but when he gestures to go in before him, you don't argue with him. your hushed 'thank you' doesn't go unheard.

his apartment is tidy. probably even more so than your own. it looks surprisingly cozy – the light isn't a big, bright one but a dimmed down one instead and the sight of his big couch makes you let out a soft sigh. from the corner of his eye, toji observes you. he hasn't had anybody over in a long time and now here you are.

he tells you to take off your shoes and to take a seat while he goes to look for a charger, giving you the perfect opportunity to take a better look around the place – dvd's, old magazines and newspapers, a few movie posters and one singular plant. it's not a lot but it still feels like a good home.

at the sound of his voice, you snap out of your thoughts. your fingers brush against one another as you take the charger from him with another 'thank you'. a

"you're not going to kill me or anything though, right?"

...

for a man his size and his age, he feels a bit small under your gaze. you're blunt more than anything and he's just a little caught off-guard by your question.

"no."

"that's good."

you break the eye-contact to look for a place to plug in the charger and he feels relieved. "you feel safe."

you say it like it's nothing.

"i wouldn't've accepted the offer from anyone else, i think. well, maybe from the lady across the hall but then again, she'd just scold me for being up so late and i'm way too tired for that."

the words slip from your lips as if they're light as air while toji needs a second to really hear you, to know that he isn't making you uncomfortable. that in your eyes, he isn't scary or threatening in any shape or form. perhaps you're just naive for putting your trust into a stranger like this but toji still can't help but feel a little warm inside.

he doesn't say anything and you don't mind his silence. you do thank him a third time and let your lips curl into a proper smile when he almost unintentionally raises his brow at you – like it's weird that you're doing that.

he ends up bringing you a glass of water before joining you on the couch, both of your eyes set on the tv screen and the show that plays on it as you eakt for your phone to come alive again.

it doesn't feel wrong to just be with him like this.

it's right enough for you to let your exhaustion sneak up on you. your eyelids grow heavy without you even realizing it and then you're already dozing off on your neighbor's couch.

your quiet snores are so unfamiliar, the mere idea of somebody being able to fall asleep in his presence so surreal that he's left sitting there dumbfoundedly. regardless, he reaches for a blanket before throwing it over your body ever so carefully and turns down the volume of the tv as to not disturb you.

a stranger, a neighbor. somebody, who makes him feel a bit more alive. a silly comment, a blunt reply. a smile and a thank you.

a push to keep on going.

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[ghostdrinkssoup]

something I find really interesting about hannibal’s character is how he uses people’s expectations and ingrained assumptions to hide himself. no one suspects he’s a serial killer because he doesn’t present as one. he’s elegant and refined and isn’t cruel to animals. he’s highly sophisticated, a polyglot and has a deep admiration for beauty and life. he appreciates saving lives just as much as he appreciates ending them. in fact, this particular aspect of his character is partly why it takes will the entirety of s1 to accept hannibal’s true nature. will saw hannibal save abigail and accompany her to the hospital in apéritif and he also saw hannibal save a man’s life by performing emergency surgery and taking over the operation at the end of sorbet.

this moment in particular is interesting because of how it’s framed to make hannibal look almost godly from will’s point of view:

1) hannibal is positioned immediately higher than will due to being in the ambulance, meaning will is looking up at hannibal, while hannibal is looking down on him

2) hannibal is standing under a bright light as he works to save this guy’s life, while will is standing in almost complete darkness

3) the usual orchestral, classical music is playing in the background, emphasising the apparent “holiness” of the act and framing hannibal as some sort of saviour

the impact of this scene is even more potent when considering the context of the rest of the episode, since will has already stated that the ripper is not the type to save people or enact mercy on anyone. his style of murders doesn’t suggest this characteristic whatsoever, and although will’s assessment is correct, hannibal’s personality and overall demeanour doesn’t match what we’d imagine a person like that might look like. I think will is confronted by this as well, because even if hannibal’s surgical skill means he matches the ripper’s profile (which makes him a valid suspect) his actions contradict will’s image of the ripper, while simultaneously affirming it:

it’s difficult to reconcile these facets of hannibal’s character. it’s inherently contradictory and defies our cultural expectations. nonetheless, hannibal’s inclination to save people is sometimes more insidious than his murders. he doesn’t save people out of altruism, he does it because he thinks he’s superior and enjoys deciding outcomes. he doesn’t view himself as insane, he views himself as god. this is most aptly explored in takiawase, through the acupuncturist/beekeeper killer. here we see a murderer who confesses that she killed a man to quiet his mind, and tells jack that it’s beautiful that she managed to protect him and her other patients. this is one side of hannibal’s character, the one who’s a doctor and therapist and sees death as a cure from disease, even if the ‘disease’ itself is literally just discourtesy. it’s ultimately an act of power.

and yet in this same episode he flips a coin and saves bella on a whim. this of course is framed to others as an act of mercy, however the reality is he took bella’s power away in an act disguised as kindness. once again, he hides in plain sight. this is the other side of his character, and it’s just as deadly.

it’s still about power.

but we don’t associate acts of mercy with monstrosity. when hannibal comforts abigail in trou normand we question whether he’s as bad as we think, because what negative connotations are tied to paternal tenderness? we miss that hannibal is fostering dependency, that he literally looks dead in the eyes as he holds her, and that he blatantly just told us that he’s using abigail to manipulate will:

hannibal often does this actually. he either directly says what he’s doing or suggests that he’s the culprit (often through cannibal puns, as we know) but no one ever interprets him correctly because doing so would contradict the image he’s carefully constructed for himself. it would cause too much dissonance.

and what’s fascinating is that on a subtextual level this is largely what the show is about. the story is an exploration of societal roles and the struggle to fit into stiff categorisation and expectations. will parallels hannibal in this regard because he’s desperately trying to repress his identity by taking on certain roles. and the audience is lured by this persona the same way the characters are lured by hannibal because will defies our understanding of certain tropes. on a genre level, will assumes the detective archetype, meaning we are primed to think he’s inherently good. when we see him say he wants to save people we believe him, even though he often only does so to prove to himself that he’s a good person. will is indeed righteous, a characteristic we often view positively, however he’s violent, wrathful and actively enjoys murder due to how powerful it makes him feel. he’s not dissimilar to hannibal, we just don’t see this straight away because doing so would disrupt our understanding of good and evil.

will hides the same way hannibal does, except will hides from us as well

[melverie]

Sometimes I'm doing well, and then other times Lucifer's level 30 intimacy phone call in Nightbringer suddenly comes back to mind, and I am once again reminded how Lucifer is so utterly desperate to connect with Satan in any way. It doesn't even have to be meaningful; just having his brother despise him a tiny bit less than before would already be more than enough

And when they finally do make the tiniest, most insignficant amount of progress imaginable, Lucifer is so overjoyed about it that he ends up celebrating with a horn of Demonus......or two, maybe three... Might as well finish the bottle. Let's open another one! And another, and another, and another! We've got to celebrate tonight, after all! Hm? No, he isn't drunk MC, what a stupid question to even ask. Here, he'll drink some more just to prove it! Then after that--!

And all that because he and Satan managed to hold a conversation for a minute longer than usual

[blueskittlesart]

*sigh* thoughts on Nintendo's botw/totk timeline shenanigans and tomfoolery?

tbh. my maybe-unpopular opinion is that the timeline is only important when a game's place on the timeline seriously informs the way their narrative progresses. the problem is that before botw we almost NEVER got games where it didn't matter. it matters for skyward sword because it's the beginning, and it matters for tp/ww/alttp (and their respective sequels) because the choices the hero of time makes explicitly inform the narrative of those games in one way or another. it matters which timeline we're in for those games because these cycles we're seeing are close enough to oot's cycle that they're still feeling the effects of his choices. botw, however, takes place at minimum 10 thousand years after oot, so its place on the timeline actually functionally means nothing. botw is completely divorced from the hero of time & his story, so what he does is a nonissue in the context of botw link and zelda's story. thus, which timeline botw happens in is a nonissue. honestly I kind of liked the idea that it happened in all of them. i think there's a cool idea of inevitability that can be played with there. but the point is that the timeline exists to enhance and fill in the lore of games that need it, and botw/totk don't really need it because the devs finally realized they could make a game without the hero of time in it.

[thoughtfulstudentsalad]

Hak spitting bars in the Viz Translation

Also damn Hak calling her "Yona"?

[duck-in-a-spaceship]

FASCINATING to me that in lashing out against the skua, a symbol of Revachol, Harry also destroys a symbol of reality itself. Not only that, but the discovery of the Insulinde that the skua represents is what leads to the proclamation of Her Innocence Dolores Dei. It's truly everything Harry is trying to run away from, all tied up in one neat little bow.

So he fucks it up, he destroys that reality, and then, ta-da! Mission accomplished Harry-boy, you wake up in a hostel room and can't remember shit. It's all gone. You got rid of it.

[tremendously-crazy]

Relationship envy except I envy the bond between iconic fictional characters Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

[moonlightperseus]

we died together, intertwined, literally bleeding into each other, we came back together, in the same drawn breath. we were connected before but now we are as one entity separated by different bodies, our pain, anger, fear and joy shared between us. you cannot separate us, not even with death, we will always come back to each other. we will never leave each other. our very souls intertwined.

[xxlady-lunaxx]

offers the weekly (or so) dose of sanegiyuu angst

sanemi caring for giyuu and slowly nursing him back, coaxing smiles and eliciting laughter from the pretty raven-haired man. but the surge of warmth it gives him from the trophy of a happy giyuu only lasts so long. so that sanemi feels like he can’t, in any way, be sad. he fears that the slightest frown might trigger a wave of discontent that ultimately will have them both crashing under the currents. he’s afraid that he’ll ruin every bit of progress they’ve managed, leaving them back at the starting point. he refuses to cry, he refuses to be weak, he refuses to do anything but carry on supporting giyuu and being the one who holds them both up. and he says nothing, even when the circles under his eyes nearly rival giyuu’s obsidian hair, even when he ends up silently spiraling down, down, down the rabbit hole he only just managed to pull giyuu from. and it isn’t until his resolve is hit for the final time, the hammer shattering him completely, that he finally says something. but, despite everything, he denies giyuu’s comfort. insists it’s only a matter of time. when it’s not. time is working against him. tugging the loosely woven threads of togetherness out, undoing the hasty patchwork. still, he draws away. curls up into himself and pricks his finger on the needle, trying to sew the remnants of his sanity back. he will not let giyuu parent him. he will not let giyuu see what a pathetic, idiotic, broken man he actually is. because everything he does is for giyuu’s benefit. everything he lives for is connected to this beautiful, wonderful man who somehow still tries and tries to help him. until it takes too much work for sanemi to pull away. he knows it’s futile. but he still lets himself sink into giyuu’s arms, finally—finally—trusting himself into his care. he won’t ever be alright. but if he lets giyuu do this—for… him—then maybe giyuu will be able to get through everything. knowing sanemi trusted him, knowing giyuu was so much more than words could possibly define, and manage to do everything sanemi could never. because giyuu was everything, and he deserved the world, and sanemi would throw away his life for him. for tomioka giyuu.

[carlyraejepsans]

Out of curiosity what instantly ruins a soriel fic for you? I promise this isn't for my own fic 😁

Sans remembering resets. Not even a Soriel specific thing, I catch one whiff of it in any UT fic and it immediately kills any interest I might have had in it. Same with Sans being suicidal (he is not. lmfao)

But let's see, Soriel specific... hm. It's hard to explain what it is that they do wrong specifically. But there's a brand of h/c fics with sans being the comforted where you can tell the author has not taken into account everything that is also wrong with Toriel. She's just there to offer comfort, which I'd argue is something Sans would do more often with how evasive and private he is about his own issues (and how we have literal in canon examples of him comforting her instead, even before they officially met each other)

[wonder-worker]

I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.

I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.

Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.

All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:

“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”

Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.

[the-love-witch-roleplays]

[captain-astors]

Creature. (The rendered ones are referenced from manga panels)

[thresholdbb]

I've been thinking a lot about TNG's The Measure of a Man today, and how those kinds of episodes where they debate what it means to be a person are so important. The themes and arguments in the episode have been used throughout history to justify treating people as less than, and showing how the arguments can work in favor of existing injustice helps people recognize it when it's happening on a smaller scale: in the classroom, in the workplace, on the street, in everyday interactions. I think it's very important so that we can recognize the tactics that are being used against people and how easily the wrong narrative can take hold. We can debate philosophy forever, but if we're not still engaging in the moral conversations and implications of those philosophical ideas, then it's all for naught. If we can't engage with our own history of slavery, oppression, and injustice in a meaningful way, then the structures are upheld and the discrimination continues, with historical groups and new ones that emerge. What does it mean to be a person? How far do you go to stand up for another's personhood when push comes to shove and your ass is on the line?

Looking through a similar lens in Voyager's Distant Origin, what happens to the dissenting voices? The ones who stand up against history and doctrine, saying this isn't right and this isn't how it happened? Are they silenced by coercion or other means? Do they stand up for what is correct in the face of personal ruin? It's an especially important consideration in cultures that tend to be more individualistic than collectivist, as the US is. Do you sit and do as you're told, whatever it takes not to stand out among the crowd? Do you do the work to recognize the powers that are in play and structures that have existed since before your lifetime?

There are so many instances in the episodes where they debate morality -- they explore ideas relating to privilege and opportunity, systems of oppression and what it means to do the right thing. Even in an idealistic future, doing the right thing is difficult. Refusing to engage with the conversation and continue exploring those harder truths that fight with our social conditioning is an issue.

I just really appreciate that they were willing to explore those moral arguments, even if they basically end up being conference room episodes. Science fiction really lends itself well to those kinds of stories and can help start shifting paradigms of thinking. These stories can provide the impetus to thought then to action -- right now, right now, right now

[zukkaoru]

where i am going (is right where i am)

“You want to pretend we’re dating.” “Exactly!” Ranpo claps their hands together. “We’ll go all out—I’m talking making out during office hours, disappearing to the bathroom together, calling each other stupid pet names, refusing to be separated when we don’t want to do work. Just imagine how everyone will react!” Dazai considers this. He does rather enjoy annoying his coworkers—Kunikida especially. And no one in the office will be more perturbed by Dazai and Ranpo suddenly being an obnoxious couple. It’ll make Atsushi squirm. Sigma and Tanizaki will try to hide their discomfort until it eventually turns to annoyance, which will be hilarious. Naomi will just laugh at everyone. Plus it’ll catch Chuuya so far off guard they won’t even know what hit them. It’s the perfect plan. “Okay,” Dazai agrees. “Let’s do it.”

or: dazai kills a man, gets a boyfriend, has a gender crisis, confronts his own humanity, and starts to heal. not necessarily in that order.

🌱 25.8k words || souheki / daran / ranzai 🌱 post-doa arc + fake dating