#about how everything i do is gonna be Inherently Worthless And Bad from now on & nothing i make is gonna have Any Value

[shorkbrian]

Never Ever

(Warnings - dub-con, non-con if you squint. NSFW, body insecurity)

“Stop fucking saying that!” Kiri paused, looking up from the magazine he was reading (men’s health, the one with big buff dudes on the cover, typical) to watch you storm out of the living room.

“Babe?”

You ignored him, stomping into the bedroom (you refused to call it “your” bedroom, or “our” bedroom, no matter how Kiri wishes you would).

Flopping down onto the big bed, you fluffed the covers out, quickly wiggling under them and pulling them up over your head. 

It was one of those moments when you didn’t feel like talking. You didn’t want to talk, you didn’t want to hear, to see or feel or do anything. You didn’t want to fucking exist.

You just wanted to sink into the bed and disappear, not only from the world, but from everyone’s minds.

Steady footfalls padded down the hall, into the bedroom. The bed shifted, and you heard Kirishima sigh.

“All I said was that you’re pretty. And you are. You’re beautiful. Gorgeous and breathtaking, and incredible, and stunning, and divine, and-”

“Shut up.”

Your growl made Kirishima chuckle, and it made your chest seize up. It’s so stupid, you’re so stupid. It wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“I don’t lie to you.”

That makes it worse. Huffing, you threw the covers off your head, met with the sight of Kirishima sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you. He was so big, so muscled and broad, and he had such a nice body. He’d never understand.

“I know you’re not lying. You wouldn’t lie. But that’s the problem, you big oaf-” Kirishima grinned, and you wanted to punch him in the face. This wasn’t funny. “-You think everyone looks great, and you’d never put someone down for the way they look, even if they looked like a grotesque swamp monster.”

Trying not to cry was at the top of your priorities. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore. Leave me alone.” If you said much more, crying would be inevitable. You shifted onto your side, facing away from the big redhead. With any luck, he’d get the message that you didn’t want him to be near you right now, and he would leave.

No such luck.

Kirishima grunted, and you felt the weight on the bed shift. He lifted up the covers, sliding in beside you, making no move to touch you. 

After a second of gathering his thoughts, Kiri spoke. “Well, I guess that’s kinda true. I think everyone has inherent worth, and their physical features don’t really contribute to it. Like, yeah, some people are really pretty, like Bakugou, but their looks don’t make them better than everyone else.”

A hand gently crept onto your waist, and you slapped it away quickly, scooting further away from the large man.

“But when I say you’re lovely, and attractive, and hot, and a whole-ass meal I mean it. And it’s not just about your body either, although like, you’re totally irresistible in that department.”

He tried again, a large hand clamping down on your waist. This time, when you angrily slapped at his hand, it stayed put.

“It’s just... You. You’re indescribable. I love you cause of the way you are.”

A warm, hulking body pressed against you, and you squirmed, but there was nowhere to go.

“I love you when you wake up in the morning, and you got like, those little eye booger things? Yeah. I love you when I come home and see your face, and when I get to hold you, and give you kisses-” A quick smooch was planted at the nape of your neck. “-and I love everything about you; all the good, all the bad. It’s no question.”

“Please don’t touch me.” You whispered. Such a wimp, you were crying now, throat tight, face hot. You felt so disgusting, and gross, and his words weren’t true, or if he believed them, then he was misguided. 

“Babe-”

“Please.”

“I’m not gonna do that.” His hold on you tightened, and he shuffled even closer, dwarfing your body with his own. “Tell me what’s going on, yeah? Let’s work this out.”

You stayed silent. It was too embarrassing, too trivial. He’d laugh at you, and you were a weak, pathetic little baby for even being bothered by this. Why couldn’t you just accept you were gross and ugly? Why did you have to cry a bout it?

“I’m not gonna leave until we talk, babe.” There was finality in his tone, and you could tell, he wasn’t going to budge.

Still, you couldn’t find the words. The feelings were just too much.

The two of you were still for a second, then Kirishima was shifting, turning onto his back, pulling you onto his chest and turning you so that your head rested on his chest. You’d struggle, but it’d be useless. Still, you wished he wouldn’t hold you.

You could hear his heartbeat like this. 

It was slow, steady, relaxing. You could probably fall asleep like this.

“I know you don’t feel good about how you look. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?” 

When you didn’t answer, he sighed, before continuing. 

“I’m paying attention. I see how you try not to look in the mirror, or how you always try to sit so your legs don’t “look big” or whatever. How you always do that thing with your head and you hate looking down cause you'll get a lil double chin.”

An ugly sob tore from your throat. Oh god, he had noticed all of that? You felt horrible. Awful. You were so dumb and embarrassing. 

“But I love when you’re just you. Your body is good as it is. I know you don’t think so, but I know for a fact that your brain is lying to you. Yeah, maybe you don’t look like those people on tv, or in magazines, or wherever... but you don’t need to, y’know?”

A kiss was placed on the top of your head, and Kirishima’s hand was stroking along your back, soothingly rubbing.

“You deserve love no matter how you look.”

“But I don’t-” you sobbed into his chest, hands fisting in the soft material of his shirt. “-not looking like-like this. I hate myself so much, and I’m so ugly, and stupid, and I know it’s like, super dumb to get upset like this-”

“It’s not.” Kirishima chimed in.

“-but I can’t ever just... be good enough. I look horrible, and my personality sucks, and everything about me is wrong and bad. I am so disgusting, and worthless, and-”

“You aren’t.” Kiri growled, cutting you off. The man sat up, taking you with him. He pulled you directly in front of him, so he could grab you by the shoulders and look into your eyes. “I don’t care what you say otherwise. I’ll say it and I’ll keep saying it until your ears bleed and my tongue falls off, you’re worth the fucking world to me.”

He surged forward, mashing his lips against yours. 

You clawed at the arms holding you in place. You didn’t want him to kiss you, your lips were chapped and you were all gross from crying. But Kirishima wouldn’t let up, nipping at your bottom lip, hungrily kissing you.

When he finally did relent, you pulled away, a fresh wave of tears rolling down your face. 

“Please don’t. I’m repulsive and obnoxious, and-and annoying-” you hiccuped.

Kirishima grabbed your face, rubbing at your tears with his thumbs.

“No you aren’t. You’re sexy as hell, and you’re so smart, and you’re kind, and I could go on and on and on.” He leaned in, planted a kiss on the tip of your nose, following you even though you shied backwards from his touch. “But right now, I don’t think you’re gonna listen to what I say. Guess I just gotta show you, don’t I?”

Your eyes widened, and you tried to wiggle free of his grasp. “No-”

“Shh, c’mere.”

He clambered off the bed, pulling you to the edge as he did so. Once the man was standing, he started undressing, letting go of you in the process.

“Kiri, you shouldn’t do this.” You whined, scrubbing at your eyes with your hands “I don’t want to, I never do - I’m gross and you’re so fit and in-shape, please don’t make me do this.”

The redhead clambered back on the bed, now devoid of clothes. 

You were right - he looked like he could be a fitness model, all smooth muscles and gleaming skin. No matter how much you worked out, or watched your diet, you still couldn’t achieve the type of body you wanted, and it was so frustrating. Why was it so easy for him, yet unattainable for you? You’d do almost anything to get the body you desired.

“Hey, listen to me.” Kirishima shuffled closer, grabbing your face with both hands, forcing you to look at him with puffy eyes. “You aren’t gross. You aren’t ugly, or fat, or any of those things that you tell yourself.”

“But I am!” Your voice was high, distressed, and you felt like a whiny little kid. When would you ever stop embarrassing yourself?

Kirishima shook his head, leaning in to give you a quick peck on the lips, before his hands moved to your clothes.

“No, don’t-”

He fixed you with a solemn glare, one of his hands catching your own when you tried to push at him, wrenching them into his chest, right over his heart.

“Feel that?” it was beating like a drum, heavy and quick. “I don’t care what I have to do to make you realize how worthy you are.”

The man pulled off your shirt, letting it tangle around your wrists where he was holding them. You had neglected a bra today, expecting to just do a few chores around the house today, so your breasts were bared to Kirishima’s hungry gaze.

With a shattered cry, you twisted to the side, trying to wiggle away from the big man, but he easily pulled you back into place.

“Look at you, you’re delicious.” His eyes were bright, a grin spreading across his face as he breathed down at you, gazing at your naked upper half.

“Kirishima, please stop. I don’t want to do this! Stop it!” You cried, feeling more tears spring to your eyes.

“Nope, not gonna happen.”

Your shorts were quickly pulled off your legs, along with your underwear, leaving you bare and vulnerable. You sobbed. You could only imagine what you looked like, held under Kirishima, unattractive and flabby underneath the muscular man.

Without a word, he dipped down to mouth at your collarbone, before planting hot kisses along your skin as he traveled further to your breasts. He finally let go of your wrists, which immediately came to push at his shoulders, but the large man wouldn’t budge.

“You’re so gorgeous, and hot. Look at how nice your tits are, all warm and soft.” To prove his point, he grabbed at the mounds, massaging them gently with his large palms as he kissed in-between them.

You writhed. “Hey, don’t-don’t! Stop doing th-at.” your skin was probably dry and riddled with odd textures - acne in some area, hair in others. How could Kirishima find that attractive?

He kept kissing all over your chest as you squirmed helplessly, still gently groping at your breasts with gentleness. His hands plucked at your nipples, softly squeezing your flesh, sucking hickies that made your breath hitch and your body jolt.

“God, you’re so perfect. Just right for me, just what I always need.”

His hands abandoned your tits, smoothing down your sides. “You feel amazing, just getting to touch you is so nice. You’re soft-” a kiss to your cheek “-and your skin gets all flushed-” a kiss to your collarbone “-and you look like a goddess.”

Hands skimmed over your stomach, and you burst into a fresh bout of tears, pushing more insistently at Kirishima’s shoulders. The man was feeling all over you, all of your lumpy bits, all of the places you hated and tried to hide and not think about. 

He pulled away from you, gazing down at you with softness in his eyes, hands coming to grip your thighs and pull you closer to where he was sitting on his knees.

“Y’know babe, if I was more patient I’d eat you out right now, always taste so fucking good. But-” moving to stroke at your folds with two fingers, Kirishima grinned at you wolfishly, baring his sharp teeth. “-You’ve got me all kinds of worked up, I can’t wait that long.”

You could feel his length pressing against the inside of your thigh, would be able to see it if you looked down. But then your chin would fold, and Kirishima would be able to see all the fat there, how the skin bunched and how you looked awful. No matter what he said, you knew the truth - you were disgusting.

A finger roughly worked it’s way inside of you, and you gasped at the sudden stretch, not nearly wet enough for it to be comfortable.

“Shit-” Kirishima murmured, before slowly taking out his digit. He leaned down spat directly onto your hole, smirked as he watched it clench at the sudden warmth of the liquid.

Then he was pushing his finger inside again, it’s way smoothed by his saliva. 

“Kiri... Please stoppp. I feel bad, ‘m not feeling good, it’s-”

“Shhhh, I’ll make you feel good in a second. Just gotta get my girl ready for me.”

You weren’t talking about the physical discomfort (though with the way he was rubbing over your walls, quick and determined, was making you shake), you were talking about your mental state.

You felt like trash; useless, foul-smelling, rotten garbage. How could Kirishima even want you? Why did he even want you? There was no way he found you attractive, he was just trying to make you feel better, trying to be kind and supportive, because that’s just the kind of person he was. 

Another finger entered you, joining the first in quickly stretching you. A third was added after a while, then a fourth, Kirishima kissing at the flesh of your torso throughout the entire process.

He was already breathing heavily, panting in between each kiss. You could feel his hips occasionally stutter towards you, as if the man couldn’t stop himself from moving, from rutting his cock against the inside of your thigh as he prepared you to take him.

“Mm, alright, ready baby?”

The fat head of his cock was lined up against your entrance as soon as his fingers pulled free, slick with your juices. Kirishima quickly stroked his hand over his cock, groaning lowly, before grabbing under the head, holding it steadily against your pussy.

“Gonna make you feel so good, want you to feel how much I love you.”

It didn’t matter how much you shook your head, or uttered blubbered “No!”’s, Kirishima was determined. 

He slowly sheathed himself into your tight heat, almost whimpering as your velvety walls enveloped his cock. The man has his eyes closed, biting his lips as he pressed further and further, before his hips jumped forward unconsciously, seating himself balls-deep into your cunt.

“Fuckkkk, baby, you feel so good, how are you even real?”

You could only gasp, filled to the brim with cock, unable to think past the thickness buried deep and pressing into all the right spots. 

Kirishima pulled out a few inches, but quickly sank forward again, sighing in pleasure as your pussy gripped his bare cock, making it wet and slick and creamy with all your juices. 

He brought his hand over your pelvis, pressing down on your mons with his palm, thumb hanging down to rub delicately at your clit, making you arch.

“Ohhh shit, what a good girl, feeling good?”

His question went unanswered as you moaned involuntarily, the sensations that the man was creating becoming too much and entirely not enough at the same time. 

“Love you so much, you’re so beautiful. My girl has the hottest body, the prettiest voice, let it out for me yeah?”

You shook your head, quickly clamping your hands over your mouth, whimpering as he pulled out, before fluidly thrusting back in. He hit so deep, past where your own fingers could reach, right in all the spots that felt the best.

“Awh, baby I wanna hear you.” He whined, still rubbing at your clit.

Your stomach was tight, pleasure lancing through your gut and up into your chest. You muffled your sounds with your hands, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to look at Kirishima, see his look of adoration as he ravished your body.

The man seemed fine with that, focusing on moving his body against yours, pulling you into his lap on each thrust. The way your hips were angled high made it easy for the man to fall into a comfortable rhythm, bottoming out before pulling back, the head of his dick scraping deliciously against your walls.

“You make me so happy, I don’t ever wanna be away from you. You’re the best thing in my life, I’m so glad I get to have you.” Kirishima groaned out, sweaty body pressing against yours as he leaned forward to embrace you in a hug. 

The man was always so touchy, wanting to hold hands, playing with your hair whenever he could, pulling your shirt aside to kiss at your shoulders whenever you let him.

He turned his head to kiss your cheek, before quickly becoming unsatisfied, pushing himself up so he could pull your hands away from your mouth.

“Wanna kiss my pretty girl.” 

And he did, almost melting against your body as his lips met yours. You let him do what he wished, fervently making out with you.

Again, his hand found it’s way to your slit, fingers rubbing against your puffy lips. When they made contact with your clit, you jolted, hot pleasure climbing higher and higher.

“Kiri, Kiri, gonna-gonna cum, gonna cum.”

“Oh fuck, me too, you’re so fucking tight, your sloppy little pussy keeps pulling me in, fuck.”

You whined, pulling your head back from Kirishima to breathe, only for the man to start kissing at your neck, hot and wet.

The pleasure in your stomach crested, throbbing through your core as you came, clutching at Kirishima. The man moaned against your neck, hips working into you in little circles as he chased after his own pleasure. Your vision blacked out momentarily as he kept fucking into you, prolonging your pleasurable high.

You were still riding the last waves of your orgasm when the man pulled out, grunting as he stripped his cock over your stomach, grunting. “I love you, fuck, I love you so much.”

He came on your stomach, moaning brokenly as his hand worked over his cock, eventually slowing down, before stopping completely. The man had his eyes closed, barely cracking one open so he could flop down beside you without hitting you.

The sounds of the two of you breathing filled the space, panting together. 

Kirishima turned on his side, facing you as he smiled. “That felt amazing. I’m so lucky that you’re mine.”

You ignored him the best you could, the feelings of insecurity creeping back in. 

A hand suddenly appeared on your stomach, running through the mess of Kirishima’s cooling cum, rubbing it into your skin.

“Kirishima, ew.” You groaned, head flopping back onto the mattress. You were too tired to push him away, too worn out to dispute his praises and adulation.

You suppose that had been his plan from the beginning.

“Sorry, it’s just - you look so sexy like this, my cum all over you. It’s like I’m marking my territory.” You frowned at the mans’s goofy grin, but just closed your eyes instead of saying anything.

“Hey-” Kiri shuffled closer, his clean hand coming to cup your chin and pull your face to his. Red eyes stared into your own, wide and truthful. “I love you. That’s never going to change.”

Your gaze flickered to the side, and Kirishima took ash opportunity to press your foreheads together, nose nudging against your cheek.

“Never ever.”

[cardentist]

I know this is Beyond late to the party, it’s been years since I first started simmering on it, but I was reminded of it a bit ago and I think it’s gonna chew a hole in my brain if I don’t find a way to do something with it

the broadway version of be more chill is an adaptation of an adaptation, the rework of the script and the music and the differences in performance choice gives it a Very different tone despite largely being the same story on paper. and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing ! I’d say it’s mostly a give and take, with some things working better and some things working worse between versions and your mileage with both mostly being down to taste.

I loved the passion that clearly went into it, I was interested in the new way the dynamics played off of each other, and I was drawn into the new additions to the score and how it explored and expanded upon a different side of jeremy. I was waiting for the new version to grow on me, to give me the same inspiration that the new jersey production gave me (or rather, a different flavor that I could treasure just as much), and it just. never happened.

I’ve sat on this for a Very long time, I want to like the broadway version, I was Happy to see it given another chance. but my problem isn’t with the music or even with it being Different, my problem is that I think they fundamentally changed the protagonist Without changing the story around him, which creates problems with how the story comes across and sits with you.

the new jersey version worked, for me, because jeremy was fundamentally a good person before the squip influenced him, and he never really stopped being that person. he’d hurt people and he made mistakes, but when you see him make up with christine and michael by the end you’re left with the impression that they’re already set on the path to a healthy relationship with each other. they have things to work on, conversations that need to be had, but you can Believe in the happy ending that it wants you to buy into.

and part of this is achieved by leaving things up to the imagination, by keeping jeremy Simple but implying more by presenting him as a real person. jeremy doesn’t Want to be popular he wants to be happy, but he trusts the authority figure that tells him that it knows what’s best for him more than he does. it’s this level of innocence that makes him genuinely likeable despite what he ends up doing.

the broadway version sought to explore jeremy in more depth, to explore the feelings of self hatred and isolation, the themes of depression and anxiety, in more explicit terms, they complicated jeremy heere. this isn’t in itself a bad thing, I really like “loser geek whatever” as a song, but it shifted the balance in what made the ending work. a moment that used to be jeremy asserting to the audience that he’s never Wanted to be important, that he never wanted popularity or fame, but that he’s giving in to the lead of something else because he’s been convinced that it’s what’ll make him happy is now a ballad that asserts that it’s what jeremy thinks he Deserves.

don’t get me wrong, this new version of jeremy isn’t an inherently bad person, he isn’t even necessarily a fundamentally Different person. they’re both steeped in self hatred and isolation, broadway jeremy Is new jersey jeremy at his core, but broadway jeremy has pointed that inward turmoil Outward. he thinks of himself as the problem, that there’s something wrong with him and always has been, but at the same time he’s actively trying to convince himself that he wants what the squip is offering him because he’s Owed it.

this isn’t a problem on its own, I really vibe with “loser geek or whatever,” it has some Very poignant lines that gel with what jeremy’s always been even with the shift happening with his mindset here, but it’s unfortunately not a change that exists in a vacuum.

I could pick apart the whole musical and lay out all of the differences, but the change that’s prevented me from being able to enjoy the broadway version is “the pitiful children,” on a musical level but most importantly on a story and characterization level.

jeremy’s change in mindset in the broadway version Very Unfortunately leans into the entitled nerd boy trope, which didn’t necessarily have to detract from it (in my opinion, the charm of be more chill in general is how its characters are all tropes presented as real people, who are likeable because of how Human they are. you slowly grow into them the more you realize this), but the pitiful children just shifts jeremy Too Far into that trope in a way that the story never really recovers from.

the original version was the squip’s villain song where he took jeremy pointing out flaws with his actions (letting people get hurt despite having been able to help them and meddling in jeremy’s life in a way that made his relationships Worse) and convinced him that the problem was other people’s free will. he did this not by appealing to jeremy’s own desires, but by presenting other people the way that the squip had been presenting jeremy to Himself this entire time.

jeremy is a character that hates himself, that was so eager to find a way to “get better” because he sees everything that’s happened to him as being tied to some inherent flaw with who he is. the squip took this and reinforced it, convinced jeremy that he’s completely worthless without him, all while presenting himself as a savior figure to jeremy that was going to “fix” him. the pitiful children is the squip insisting that all people are like that, that all people are fundamentally broken and unhappy but that they can be Saved. jeremy going along with the squip here is presented as being tied to both his own self hatred And his desire to help people. the squip took advantage of his Kindness and that colors our interpretation of him as a person.

the broadway version of this scene is, a shell. it’s a mistake. in some ways it’s built on that same basis, it exists On Top Of what it used to be, but it paints jeremy completely differently. it is, quite literally, jeremy putting christine’s agency under his own desires. Now instead of the squip playing at jeremy’s self hatred, it’s convincing jeremy that christine doesn’t want to date him because there’s something wrong with Her Specifically, and the rest of the school is just kind of tacked onto it. it’s jeremy choosing his own desire to date christine Over her freewill while pushing everyone else’s fate to the side (when he knows that they’re Also going to get zombiefied in the process).

it’s a weaker villain song in general, the storybeat of convincing someone that humanity is fundamentally flawed but can be “fixed” is far more chilling than convincing someone that the girl they like is fundamentally flawed because they won’t date them. but it also just changes jeremy’s relationship to christine in a way that can Never be addressed because Jeremy’s the only character that knows it happened and it’s never a conversation that they have together.

it’s even worse in the live version (as opposed to the cast recording) because jeremy is an Active role in the broadway version when he’d had a passive role in the original. in the new jersey version jenna approaches jeremy, opening up about her own unhappiness after he asks her how she feels, the squip tells him that he can help her and Then jeremy gives her a squip. jeremy Watches her immediately become more lively and happy, with her joining the song and dance to convince him that this is the right thing. in the broadway performance jeremy approaches Her, he offers her a squip of his own accord and he brushes her off after she opens up to him in response. it’s no longer a beat reinforcing that the squip is taking advantage of his kindness, but him Openly Dismissing someone else’s suffering while he’s focused on getting what he wants. he’s dancing and singing along with the squip.

both versions of jeremy were manipulated, both versions of jeremy were stripped of their agency, but only one of them had a true villain arc. but their endings are the same. broadway jeremy isn’t an unsalvageable person, he Can grow and get better and I do think that he’s in the right direction for it. but he and christine are Not ready for a relationship, he’s Not at an ending point for his character growth. he did choose her agency in the end, but the fact that it was ever a question for him makes the saccharine tone of the ending feel Wrong in a way that I’ve never been able to move on from. 

broadway jeremy was complicated in a way that made him less likeable as a person but the Ending wasn’t made to accommodate this. the big flashy showdown Worked in the original Because it never convinced us that jeremy wasn’t a kind person. he needed a wake up call and time to heal, broadway jeremy needs therapy. (granted, new jersey jeremy Also needs therapy for the Definite ptsd that he has, but that’s a separate issue).

the broadway version opens a conversation that it wasn’t interested in closing, they left their happy storybook ending for a story that Needed a serious confrontation that challenged their protagonist not just on the fact that they were Wrong but on the fundamental flaws with how they treated and thought of other people. it wasn’t necessarily jeremy’s Fault but he needed more solid character growth than what he was given and it’s a weaker story for it.

I think if the pitiful children had been left largely the same I might’ve been able to grow to like the broadway version and all of its differences, but it’s just the Weaker version as is and it Needed to push the changes harder than it did if it was really committed to this change in direction.

[punkwixes]

i’mmm having a bad night

[alexawynters]

TW

Venting. Don’t take this too seriously it’s fine I’m fine.

So my recent ex gf of 8 months (I count the time we were fucking around as well as dating bc let’s not lie I caught feels early because I’m pathetic) who broke up with me a little over two months ago is now hooking up with one of my closest friends.

Its cool. I still cry myself to sleep, have nightmares, and wake up crying throughout the night but it’s fine. I spend more time drunk than sober (I had been doing so well! It was two years since I was last an alcoholic) and replaying every red flag, every moment where I thought to myself “you know, I don’t think she really likes me, you don’t treat the people you like this way right?” And then my dumb desperate ass was like “no we’re going to overlook this because surely she would tell me right? Besides I’m asking for too much, I should just be grateful she even expressed any interest at all. Stop being needy. Stop asking for anything other than what she is giving you because you’re lucky she’s even with you, what’s wrong with you?

Like. The first two months we were together? I called my besties every other week crying because I felt like a human sex toy. She didn’t even seem to want to do relationship things. I didn’t understand why she even asked me out, I had told her before we got together if all she wanted to be was fwb that was okay. But she asked me out so I was like okay cool. You want to date me. As in be in a relationship. I’m excited for this. Let’s do relationship things. We didn’t often do relationship things. We did sexual ones instead.

Then after two months suddenly the sex all but stopped. I thought to myself okay cool every relationship hits a plateau, and levels out. This is normal. Little did I know that was the slow death of us. The. I was calling my besties every other week again, still crying, begging to know what I was doing wrong. Why wasn’t I good enough? Why didn’t she seem interested but was still with me? What was I doing wrong? What was I not doing enough of, or too much of, or just not doing right? What was wrong with me that I couldn’t seem to interest her beyond the bare bones minimum?

I found myself begging for her to spend time with me. I lived with roommates who were our friends, and it always felt like she wanted to spend more time with them than me. I had to ask her if we could have some “just us” nights which, rarely were ever actually just us unless we went out. There were times she would literally, every five minutes look out the window to see when my roommates were home, and I was like ???? Do you not want to spend time with me? She would go to the kitchen to get something and be gone for twenty minutes to an hour at a time, having gotten distracted and hanging out with them. Which isn’t inherently bad to be clear but it happened so often and I wondered. I never forgot about her when I was leaving the room and got stopped for a conversation. If I knew I was going to be long I would text her to invite her or let her know.

I had even told her if she wants to just hang out with them, she could. I genuinely wouldn’t have minded that. Have fun with your friends, you should. I could hang out in my room and be me (I’m incredibly introverted, autistic, and have anxiety, and the living situation had me ~*stressed*~ out) but she didn’t want to do that.

If we were out on a date, she was almost always texting, or snap chatting somebody else. I always tried to make it a point to focus on us when we were in dates, but it never felt reciprocated. I brought it up and then felt like an asshole for already asking for just us time, and now to please not be on your phone when we’re on a date. She looked so sad, like I had scolded her. I would replay it over and over in my head - I tried to be gentle and polite, not accusing or angry. I checked my words carefully and ran them by multiple people to try to be as non aggressive and non accusatory as I could before I ever spoke them to her. Clearly I didn’t succeed.

She has OCD (nothing against it and I usually found it endearing) and would sometimes go into a loop. I always tried to help her but usually just ended up frustrating her. She snapped at me on occasions including in front of my friends and didn’t often apologize for it. Something my friends brought up after she did it in front of them, and I made excuses for it. She was stressed out, I would be too, stop being so hard on her.

She never planned anything with me, I always had to do it. I brushed it off as her having anxiety and not liking planning, but when she asked me “oh we’re still doing that?” for the trip for my nieces wedding in which I was taking her to meet my (extremely judgey) family, the trip that I had been updating her on weekly about the plans trying to get any input from her on, the trip that I had to pull in favors for and grovel to get the time off to go to? I should have said never mind and cancelled it.

She didn’t even help plan my birthday. My best friends did, and showed me the texts where they were getting frustrated with her lack of input on it because she’s my girlfriend and surely she would want to participate in that? Want to help surprise me? It was my first surprise party ever. I told her thank you and she acted like she had absolutely had a hand in planning. Meanwhile my friends all got together while she and I were gone to vent about how pisses they were at her for her lack of effort.

I have some childhood trauma and I don’t like to be touched sexually. I’ll touch my partner and even enjoy it but I don’t like being touched. It triggers me. But she said no less than three times to different people “yeah I’ve still never gone down on a girl or anything” which made me feel like I wasn’t being a good enough girlfriend. So I got sex therapy. I worked through it as best I could. Not for me. I didn’t want to be touched that way but I wanted my girlfriend to be happy. I wanted to do right by her and give her everything she wanted or needed in a relationship. Right about this time is where the sex stopped. She also stopped flirting or doing things she used to do before we started/right as we started dating that were clear indicators that she liked me. (I am an oblivious idiot)

I started to get worried. Why was I working this hard if she didn’t actually want to touch me? I was happy not being touched, but now I was starting to think something was wrong. I was starting to feel like she didn’t even want me. I started asking for sex as reassurance that she was still interested. Still attracted.

She called me a horn dog.

Not just to me but also later to my best friend. I was so mortified I wanted to jump out of the window and run into traffic. *I* was a horndog? All I wanted was affection and reassurance. She said her love language was physical affection and so was mine but she rarely gave me the cuddles I needed. I would ask her for “pets” - where she would play with my hair or just run her hand up and down my arm. This for me is intimacy. I had no problems doing it for her ever but she would get annoyed when I asked, saying it was hard for her to focus on the tv.

Okay? So? I’m not asking much, I didn’t think. I stopped paying attention to the tv when I was petting her. I made her my whole focus so she would feel loved. I mean unless it was like Harry Potter but I would be mindful to alternate so she wouldn’t be left out.

She only introduced me to one of her friends (who I thought was pretty cool but I worry she hates me so I just don’t talk to her now). At first I thought this was because she was in the closet. To be clear I never had a problem with that. I would never push someone to come out before they were ready and I hate movies and media that have the partner doing that. It’s shitty and dangerous. If she felt safer in the closet more power to her. I actively went to bat for protecting that secret for her. Sometimes our friends would forget and tag her in shit that would out her. I would be in their texts and calling them immediately explaining the situation and asking them to untag or take the post down. I’m not saying that as any sort of bragging. That’s literally the least I could do. I’m saying it to illustrate that I don’t have a problem with her being in the closet. But then she told me her friends knew about us. So I was like okay cool you’ve met all of my friends and are part of the group. I’d like to meet your friends. “Um.. they’re just really busy”. I mean. Yeah so are my friends and I didn’t mean like right now I just meant maybe mention it to them and we can some time schedule a hang out. “They’re just really busy”. Red flag but okay. Gonna just. Overlook this one too. It’s fine.

I spent more nights when she visited waiting for her to fall asleep so I could cry myself to sleep over how worthless I felt. Why was I doing this? Everything hurt but maybe I was just asking too much. Had my expectations too high. I’ve been told that before. Usually by people who have left me, those who stay (and my therapist) insist I’ve been asking for the bare minimum. To this day I still don’t know. If all you get is nothing , surely you are nothing? You don’t deserve to ask for more.

By June I started thinking she’s not happy with me. I’m not the one she wants. I don’t think much of myself. I don’t think I’m worth anything. I wrote her a letter that sat in my desk at work, basically saying that she deserved to be happy. She deserved to be with someone who sparks excitement, joy, and romance in her. Someone she wants to introduce to her friends (that she’s out to). Someone that she wants to spend time with and forgets about anyone else (within reason obviously, not like actually forgetting the world friends and responsibilities). Someone she is actually excited to spend time with and looks forward to. Someone that makes her not want to cancel every other date. She shouldn’t settle, even if it’s for me.

It broke my heart to write that letter. I was going to give it to her after her birthday because I didn’t want to be a sick and break up with her right before/on her birthday. Turns out she beat me to the punch and dumped me after I took her home.

I don’t know why I was surprised. The entire relationship things didn’t feel right. I always felt like I was doing something wrong. People in my life always seem to like the idea of me and then when they get to see the real me suddenly it’s like oops too much I’m out. Or alternatively they just.. they think I’m interesting and then lose interest.

My birth mother rejected me not once but twice. My adoptive mother was thrilled at the idea of me until I got to be about 4 and she realized something wasn’t quite right. My dad doesn’t care enough about me to stop drinking. Almost every single best friend I’ve ever had growing up has left usually because of some stupid shit I’ve done or because they’re embarrassed of me. Cheryl thought I was some monster out to hurt my friends (even when said “hurt” friend who was actually there went to bat for me and confirmed that I was literally just in the wrong place at the wrong time). Holly stopped caring. Brie never cared. Johanna only cared when she could use her affection of me to hurt someone else she was being petty with. Lissa only wanted someone she could bully, and even once she had me it wasn’t enough. Jerika definitely didn’t want me, and even my closest friend of 17 years Amy left for three months in which I genuinely thought she wasn’t coming back because I had the audacity to try to help her out of a panic attack. Jocelyn couldn’t stand me for more than a week at a time and roxii didn’t have the time of day for me after Americorps.

I feel like my whole life has just been a game of measurements that’s found me wanting. I tried. I tried so hard and I know I didn’t succeed I know there were things I could have done differently with my latest ex. Things I could have done better. I’ve never wanted anything to work so much in my life. Never tried so hard and still I wasn’t enough. I’m never enough.

I watched her, the woman that I was in love with, slowly lose interest in me over the course of about 4 months. Do you know what that’s like? What that does to you? The more I tried, the quicker she seemed to fade. I kept thinking if I just try harder, I’m just not doing, saying the right things. I read every book on relationships I could get my hands on (blatantly ignoring the parts that told me I should see the red flags for what they were and step away). I took notes. I watched therapy videos. I put to work every therapy technique I had ever learned. I wasn’t perfect but I was going to give this everything I had. Just once I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I didn’t try. I wanted to be as healthy, loving and supportive of a partner as I could because I loved her and didn’t want to hurt her. I knew that I had a lot of personal growth that I had been working on before I met her and I wanted to really ramp that up while I was with her to be good to her. To be good for her.

I’m not even mad. My friends say I should be. They’re mad on my behalf and I’m the one telling them to be nice, and defending her. Part of me thinks they’re right but mostly, mostly I think I’m just a steaming pile of shit and I deserved this.

I wasn’t enough. I’m tired of not being enough. I’m tired of fighting the universe showing me over, and over, and over, and over, and over again how absolutely worthless, not shit I am.

When she broke up with me I told her I felt like I was losing one of my best friends. She said we’re still friends I’m still going to be in your life and we will still talk. Turns out that’s only if I initiate and usually shortly after she shuts it down. So. I guess not.

I asked her one thing and that was when (not if because obviously when, I mean if you saw her you would understand) she moved on if she could just not bring the new person around for the first few months so I didn’t have to see it immediately I would appreciate it and she was like yeah for sure. I told her I wanted her to be happy and I meant it. I just didn’t realize it was going to be barely over 2 months and with one of my good friends.

To be clear she can date whomever she wants. I just thought there might have been more time between them showing up publicly and honestly? Even if her friend was single, interested in me, and I interested in her, I wouldn’t have dated her friend. Even if the positions were reversed and I actually broke up with her first, I wouldn’t have dated her friend. I would imagine that would hurt and I never want to hurt her. Ever. I just.. I wouldn’t have done it. And then she told my one best friend to not tell my other best friend or me and I’m like?? So you know this is a little shady and you’re still gonna?? Like you literally couldn’t wake a couple more months? Just til after Friendsgiving so I don’t have to come to a group event and plaster on a smile when it makes me want to stab myself in the heart.

Alright. Well. Good for her. And I mean that. I just.. can’t see that right now so I’m not seeing any of them. I heard the song Reminds me of you by Kim petras today “cut off all my friends because they remind me of you” and literally felt punched in the gut. Like yep. Too right. Because what am I supposed to go go hang out with my closest friends, where she and her new partner are, and fake a smile? I’m barely holding it together. There’s literally not a day in which I don’t want to kill myself.

Not because she broke up with me. Because I’m tired of being worthless to everyone I care about. Like why the fuck am I even here? Is this what I was born for? To be trash? To be used by people until they find someone better? Or to be someone’s quirky new friend until they find out my quirks are not an act? Or for people to think Im interesting only to slowly realize that I’m not and want nothing to do with me?

I think about all the things I’ve survived that I shouldn’t have and get frustrated because wHY? Why couldnt I just have died and been done with everything? I said to Nathan the other day that at some point I have to realize that the common denominator here is me. Clearly I am the problem. Clearly I am worthless and it’s time to fucking accept that. His reply was that it’s easy to think that you’re the common denominator when it’s your life but that’s just because you’re stuck in it. Idk man. I don’t think I have just extraordinarily shitty luck. I think it’s just me.

I am worthless. Not shit. To anyone. There are some who have stayed but it’s literally just a matter of time until they leave. It’s inevitable, and I’m tired of trying to pretend it’s not. I’m tired of trying to pretend I’m worth something to anyone. I’m tired of begging people to care about me, family, friends, partners. I’m just tired. So tired. Im tired of being tired.

Fuck my life insurance policy. The majority of the people on it don’t care about me anyway, so fuck it if it doesn’t pay out. It wouldn’t be my problem. Sitting here trying to think of ways that wouldn’t traumatize my roommates, would be guaranteed, relatively pain free, and wouldn’t put anyone else at risk. And then I remember I’m a coward and if I fuck it up then there goes what little I have made of my career, I’d lose my job (not that I’m thriving anyway), I’d probably be permanently damaged in ways that would then make me a burden to my parents.

Maybe I can’t kill myself, but somebody else sure could. I could find somebody abusive and just throw myself into that until one day they take it too far. That’s about what I deserve. And then my policy would pay out and the people I live most would be taken care of, regardless of how their treatment of me makes me feel. Maybe I could do some good in this world. The only good I’ll have ever done but it has to count for something right? Who am I kidding nothing I do counts for anything but I’m crazy and keep doing the same things expecting different results.

It’s funny. The one person who wants to leave me the most, can’t. I wish I could though.

Don’t take this too seriously I’m venting. it’s fine, I’m fine.

[leafcabbage]

me? talking more about my own fic? yep.

(going to be censoring parts of this so it doesnt end up in the band’s tag. also suicide discussion)

no more shame, no more fear, no more dread by a/j\j is, in my interpretation, a suicide note, passive or not. it is a declaration of having given up, that the only way to be free of those things is to not be alive, to not try, to not exist. 

“cabbage why are you talking about this? like, we know you like talking about bullshit but what’s up with this?”

that’s ranboo’s song in ycssgwtlfs. i tried so many times to make it a chapter title, from 14-20 especially, in the comments on my planning doc there were like 5 separate comments that were lyrics from it. but it was more encompassing than one chapter and so it didn’t make it. that’s why im talking about it.

i think it’s fairly clear that ranboo reaches a point of passive suicidality, but if it isn’t, that is part of the story. they so deeply stop caring about themself, they stop being afraid of everything being over, they’re passive to the idea of finally working themself to death. it’s just something that might happen.

anyways now i will make you look at specific lines (keep in mind that it’s all my own interpretations of the song):

“Forever purposeless, forever worthless Until all that I can do is beg for mercy Nothing will survive in that despair When something I hold dear is out to hurt me I kick that feeble dream and whisper something like a prayer”

gonna connect this straight to their realizing that their dreams at SPU, for their future, for being who they want to be are never going to be their reality. and further back, the same hopes when they were much younger, the holding on desperately to the idea of things improving slowly slipping away as time went on, the longer they were isolated, the more they realized that no one loved them. there is a genuine question of how they survived that the first time. and they wouldn’t have the second time without what happened in the fifth floor bathroom.

“When something stabs you, you gotta get more blood”

it’s a line about getting help, that you have to get help to survive. fairly self explanatory, the idea that it’s the only way to be okay, the idea of why do you have to survive.

“If my ugly had a shape it would be a spiral Moving forward as it spins around”

again pretty self explanatory i think. spiraling thoughts, self hatred, panic, etc. if that’s not ycssgwtlfs ranboo i dont know what is 

the entire bridge of the song is another thing, listing bad things in the world with “no more” before the word(s), i mean hell i could talk about that for hours, but i wanted to just drop a little analysis of the song that connects to so much of that fic

i know its my fic, but i think a lot about in chapter 20, the lines “They wanted to be done, they wanted to give up, they were done, they were giving up...” because that would’ve been the start of the end, not because they would’ve directly killed themself, but there would be no level of trying anymore, nothing pushing them to do anything for themself. they would have failed their classes. they would’ve had to leave SPU. they would have had literally nothing and no reason or resources for turning things around.

now i like to think that they would’ve gotten help eventually still, it was established multiple times that there were people who wanted to help, but its hard to say. its hard to say if they would’ve been findable. its hard to say if anyone would’ve gotten any closure in what happened to them, how much guilt they all would feel, and what everyone would’ve lost.

we dont really have to consider that. but it was and to an extent still is that tommy and tubbo tried, hoped, kept going in the way ranboo couldn’t, taking care of them in the ways that they couldn’t even consider taking care of themself. they werent drinking water before that, that’s something so basic from anyone who cares in the slightest. they are doing the basics now, but there are other needs that they still dont/dont know how to meet for themself, and while it isnt tommy and tubbo inherent responsibility to help with that, they choose to, and they will continue to, and it’s going to be a long time before ranboo doesnt have to try to care for themself and it comes more naturally.

kinda gone off on a tangent, but i hope any of this makes sense lol 

[mittensmorgul]

I've watched season 11 again, and I have a question if you're willing to answer. In season 5, Cas was very disappointed about learning God was basically a "dead beat dad," as Dean called it. But when Cas had an opportunity to talk to Chuck, he didn't seem all that interested in talking to him or even asking a question or two. Why do you think they never had Cas interact with Chuck as a son talking to his father when it was such a huge deal for Cas in season 5?

Hi there! I’m happy to talk about this, because honestly I was personally GLAD that Cas treated Chuck the way he did in s11.

(A/N: I was halfway through writing this when my power went out last night, so now that everything is back on I’m gonna see if I remember wtf I was even talking about... if this goes sideways halfway through, blame Potomac Edison)

Cas had already realized long before exactly who and what Chuck was. I mean, not that Chuck was actually God, but that God and “His Plan” was always a load of BS.

Chuck left the angels a lot of conflicting information, and not a lot in the Free Will and Critical Thinking arena. I was just thinking about season 6, and this sort of feeds into a lot of the same distinction between Cas and the rest of the angels. My personal line of thinking earlier this evening was this line in 6.20:

CASTIEL I'm doing this for you, Dean. I'm doing this because of you. DEAN Because of me. Yeah. You got to be kidding me. CASTIEL You're the one who taught me that freedom and free will -- DEAN You're a freakin' child, you know that? Just because you can do what you want doesn't mean that you get to do whatever you want!

Major Tangent Warning, because I gotta write out what I was thinking earlier in order to explain why I am So Pleased with Cas and his reaction to Chuck in s11, which I think of as abject disdain. This is key to everything Cas had learned, to all of his growth as a person up to that point.

What Dean tells Cas here is in direct contradiction to what Raphael’s self-stated motive in restarting the apocalypse was. Also from 6.20:

RAPHAEL You rebelled - against God, heaven, and me. Now you will atone. We'll start by freeing Lucifer and Michael from their cage. And then we'll get our show back on the road. CASTIEL Raphael...No. The Apocalypse doesn't have to be fought! RAPHAEL Of course it does. It's God's will. CASTIEL How can you say that?! RAPHAEL Because it's what I want. CASTIEL Well, the other angels won't let you. RAPHAEL Are you sure? You know better than anyone, Castiel. They're soldiers. They weren't built for freedom. They were built to follow.

Raphael is just doing “whatever he wants,” in the way Dean was trying to convince Cas NOT to. Because if Dean learns anything in s6, it is the cosmic cost of his own actions. Think 6.11, and the lessons he learns having to play Death for a day. As much as Dean tries to work around the Bigger Picture of the Universe, he does understand that there is a right and a wrong, and that some things are worth fighting or even dying for, but the cost might sometimes just be too great. And unleashing all the souls in purgatory on the planet seems like just a different sort of apocalyptic level of bad... like putting out a fire with a flamethrower.

Cas had to make a choice here. He’d chosen his path every step of the way, wrestled with each decision he’d had to make over the previous year leading up to that point, but he’d passed the point of no return, and his direct prayer to Chuck went unanswered, and he never got a sign whether he was doing the right thing or not.

I’ve argued in the past that he absolutely DID get a sign, in the form of Dean telling him to stop in 6.20. But Cas dismissed him, out of pride, out of hubris, out  of desperation to do the one thing he believed could give him the power to stop Apocalypse 2.0, save Heaven, and also save Dean in the process, since Dean would be back on the radar to be Michael’s vessel if Raphael succeeded in breaking him out of the Cage.

And here’s the really tangenty part of the tangent: it just made me think of all the nitwits who won’t wear a mask in public, or follow social distancing rules because MAH FREEDUMB, you’re impinging on MAH LIBERTY. BUT THE CONSTITUTION!

Because yes, we can do what we want, but we can’t do WHATEVER we want when our actions are harmful to others!

The framers of the Constitution could never have foreseen a pandemic like this. But any SOCIETY where people must coexist needs to put some constraints on liberty, and the framers absolutely DID understand this.

They also couldn’t have foreseen air travel, but we have established rules about this. They couldn’t have foreseen cars and traffic lights and interstate highways, and yet we have rules that govern our behavior there, as well. Air traffic controllers, stop signs, speed limits-- we don’t just have the right to drive 90 mph through a school zone and run through red lights. And yet nobody yells BUT MAH FREEDUMB! when they get a speeding ticket.

Polite society ALSO must include *MY* right not to be killed because someone else decided that traffic laws didn’t apply to them, see?

Basically, wear your mask and shut up about it, whiny pissbabies. This is what is required of you to live in a functioning society. You do NOT have the right to infect others with a potentially deadly illness. Full stop.

But back to Cas and the Leviathan infection he’s about to infest the entire planet with...

Dean was effectively giving him the “wear a mask, nitwit” speech, but on a cosmic level.

And Cas had to live with the consequences of his choice, with the GUILT and DEPRESSION that resulted. And he spent the next few seasons desperately trying to make up for what he’d done, to atone and do whatever he could to redeem himself-- to Dean. He’d tried to redeem himself to Heaven, but the more he eventually began to learn about Humanity, the less affinity he felt for his fellow angels, and for Chuck’s construct of Heaven.

Because back to another previous point, Chuck effectively left the angels two opposing sets of instructions: orders to watch over the earth and act as shepherds to humanity, and orders to bring on the apocalypse at any cost. Can’t do both, truly. Even Naomi will eventually say, right before Metatron stabs her in the head, that she (and the other angels) forgot that their true mission was to protect and defend humanity, and she didn’t know when or why that ever changed.

FINALLY back to the point! WHEEE!

Basically, Cas has, in the six years between s5 and s11, experienced “god-ness” from every angle, experienced his own guilt over what he now believes were misguided actions, that sometimes Humanity has a better answer, and there are some things that just aren’t worth it in the long run.

Mostly, he’s realized just HOW deadbeat Chuck has always been. And the revelation that Chuck had actually been God all along? Saw their pain and suffering at trying to STOP the apocalypse all those years before? KNEW FULL WELL that Sam, Dean and Cas were doing everything they could to try and save the world from basically the entirety of Heaven and Hell, who were plotting the destruction of humanity and most of creation with it. I mean... Cas spent s5 begging for God’s help, to save the world, to convince Michael and Lucifer that they did not have to destroy humanity, and Chuck... had done LESS than nothing. He’d sat there and ghoulishly watched the entire mess unfold like a bad tv show... oh wait... :’D

By s11, Lucifer had not reached that point that Cas had. Lucifer had many other issues, having been rejected and locked up for most of existence, and even HE had been the one in 5.22 to try and talk Michael out of enacting Chuck’s battle plan. Lucifer never had the experiences Cas did (and despite being given every opportunity to have them over the next few seasons after s11, he continues to reject those experienced at every turn anyway, only serving to highlight the difference between Cas and, honestly, most of the rest of the angels). Lucifer had a personal need for a direct apology from Chuck for everything he’d been put through-- starting with taking on the original Mark and ending with the cage.

Of course Lucifer didn’t get an honest apology, because in the end, it was all just a theoretical production to Chuck. He had never apologized, in any of his universes, to any of the beings he created. And he never would. And on some level, Cas-- via his experiences, what he himself had already come to understand about God and creation-- already understood this about Chuck.

Cas... didn’t care about him anymore. He cared about HUMANITY, about Chuck’s CREATION. The creator might be a worthless jerk, but what came out of his creation is a thing of ultimate beauty. Humanity, love, free will, and the beauty of the universe is what ends up saving the world in 11.23, so I’ve chosen to accept this read of Cas and his relationship and opinions of Chuck. Because it’s perfectly in line with the “moral” of season 11.

Plus it’s just so personally satisfying to me watching each individual character’s reactions to Chuck, and understanding how that aligns with all of their personal arcs.

Dean: brought the “how could your forsake your creation” of a broken-hearted son who has finally seen the truth. something he worked out YEARS ago between himself and his own father, so it didn’t come with that particular personal baggage and didn’t completely break him in the process (as it may have done with Cas had Chuck revealed himself, say, in 7.01...)

Sam: brought his life-long hope that God was real, his faith in God’s inherent “goodness,” did the Chuck Fanboy for a bit before seeing Chuck a lot more clearly. He was able to relinquish his idol worship of Chuck as the Savior of Humanity.

Cas: had brought his experience of Humanity and Godhood, the entire spectrum of Creation that he had experienced for himself and grown through. Cas, for all his mistakes, had never stopped TRYING to do the right thing, never stopped doing everything in his power to save humanity and creation from every cosmic threat, while Chuck himself had only hidden away and watched from the sidelines, when he’d ALWAYS had the power to make everything good and right and allow the Winchesters their peace. Honestly, what BETTER response than to treat Chuck like a bit of gum stuck to his shoe?

Metatron: who had basically spent s9 trying to turn himself into Chuck Lite, literally plagiarizing his Supernatural novels to create his own origin story as the new God, and failed miserably. What other angel could truly confront Chuck, writer to writer, and call him out for His Story? Even fallen as low as he could go, Metatron understood first-hand the responsibility of The Cosmic Author in ways even Cas couldn’t, because narrative symmetry. Metatron was always about the Word, as God’s Scribe. He was a bad copy of the original with the names scratched out. He basically wrote the worst self-insert fanfic of all time. And that gave him the narrative space to confront Chuck about everything that Cas no longer had. Cas had long since rejected that role, sided with Humanity, and smashed Chuck’s Word. The original tablet-breaker.

Crowley: carried on Crowley-ing. Doing the best he could with what he had, and somehow miraculously BS’ing his way through.

Rowena: recognized the Biggest Power in the room and ingratiated herself to it for comfort and protection, and hopefully for a bit of power and security.

Billie: gosh she just stepped in at the 11th hour to annoy Chuck. :’D

But yeah, I’ve always been incredibly pleased that Cas basically ignored Chuck in s11. Good for him.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

@lanvinlouis THANK YOU for these beautiful truthful asks and the chance to talk more about how Jeremy Is Valid

honestly i'm h e e r e .......................................................for jeremy...like from the opening number it makes it obvious that what jeremy's after isn't really anything like popularity or coolness in and of itself, he just wants like, the chance to be okay lol....really he's like, actively suffering, and he wants whatever it is he needs to change that. it isn't that he's like, inherently jealous of popularity or coolness or whatever and he's just interested in status for the sake of his own ego, it's that he feels like whenever he's just existing and trying to get from point A to point B, he's drawing this antagonism and contempt and he can't manage to change his situation on his own. and like it's not just that school is fucked up for him b/c he's already like "everything sucks" before he's even left his bedroom at the start of the day like. he's unhappy with his whole life, and now he's basically at this point where he doesn't feel like that's going to change either thanks to or independently of his own efforts, and like, that's bad....just like, in general, when somebody feels like their life NEEDS to change but that there's no chance it will, they're pretty much having an ongoing crisis for as long as that lasts. and like yeah jeremy's dealing with all these issues and is like, taking it day by day trying to go through it like it's a routine, but not only is the "things will change eventually" in doubt for him but like also his ability to actually just tolerate it indefinitely is also in doubt, even though he's been dealing with it for a long time, the problems have probably gotten worse and more numerous and then yknow meanwhile he's probably feeling less hope about things than he might've back in say middle school and such

like, he's desperate enough to actually consider the super weird advice of the guy who bullies him i guess every day. cuz like he sings right off the bat that he wants someone to help him after his own efforts fail yet again and rich is telling him about the squip right after his lowered expectations have fallen even further and, yknow, jeremy definitely is feeling like things can't change even if he tries and that he does need some external source of help and as far as he can tell, the possibility of getting a working squip is the one chance he has...and like even though it's mentioned fairly briefly i think it's efficiently established that his parents' fairly recent divorce is really pushing him to feel even worse / more desperate for something to change things up cuz like, his mom's left and his dad's not literally absent but like, is more absent. and then also jeremy's seeing his dad as being in a similar place as he is and seeing that as evidence that yeah, things might not ever change. and jeremy wants to (tell himself he can) just move on and skip being upset and just accept it as is and his dad's not facilitating that facade and jeremy resents that a bit too

anyways yeah michael!! i know ppl have already talked abt him maybe not being very empathetic and it sure does seem to fit just fine w the material and the sorts of patterns of him engaging w jeremy.........like it definitely seems as though probably the situation he and jeremy are in is that like, they're both p much settled in to the routine of high school and the approach is to just get through the day and then they can retreat to either of their houses and hang out and have things be fine there. and i think the way michael sees it is that since he's the one who's not really stressing out about things being miserable and he's got the perspective that it's all okay since they appreciate each other and college will be way better, that means jeremy would be able to feel the same way about things if he just listened to michael and adopted that same perspective. whereas jeremy's feeling like those things aren't enough to make him feel okay, and when he complains and michael has the advice to just pretty much forget about it, that's just gonna seem like michael's not offering him anything that could actually help, because their friendship alone can't make up for everything else, and he can't tolerate two more years and knowing that things might be better then don't change what he's dealing with currently. like, i think the both of them just feel like the other just isn't listening to him lol....but like i do also think that michael sort of suspects that jeremy's really not doing so great and that his own advice is inadequate, because he does seem to understand pretty easily how/why jeremy wants to actually try to get a squip.

oh yeah and that even michael's light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel Guys Like Us Are Cool In College thing is of limited comfort because it's really just more of the same. like, that they'll still just be at the mercy of this social judgment, but when they get to college it'll happen to be in their favor. and that comes up when they fight and jeremy points this out how michael Loves To Feel Superior based on his own set of coolness standards. and, you know, speaking of what they Say with regard to how some of michael's shortcomings / weaknesses played into the squiptuation, even in mitb the lyric "but through no fault of mine" suggests more that this is defensive and he maybe does suspect that he factored into it a little bit, versus the lyric just being there to be interpreted as an objective peer-reviewed Fact in the middle of this purely emotional one-person-perspective song. it's not as though it's michael's fault or that it's a bad thing that he didn't know how to help jeremy perfectly or that because he might've been selfish in some ways he deserves to lose jeremy entirely. and tbh the stuff michael said even played into jeremy's decision to block him out / leave him behind, because of how michael's take on the problem of them being Uncool was that all they could do was embrace being losers and wait it out. so when jeremy was trying to change things, michael was set up to not only be a symbol of how things used to be, but based on the things michael always told jeremy, he's also seeing michael as a symbol of things being unable to change. and he does still care about him and all and like, doesn't even want to cut him out, but he's so convinced that his own judgment and feelings are useless that he's ignoring the fact he doesn't want to. and when he fights with michael at the party, jeremy's defensive b/c his misgivings abt his squip are kind of only making him more desperate to believe it's still okay, and also he's just in a bad place for anything much less to have an argument, and michael's kind of adding in this bitterness just about being left behind that isn't helping his other points come through as mere genuine concern. like, of course he's right to be hurt, but jeremy's also right to feel hurt by michael even if michael wasn't making the choices that led to the situation. they're mad at each other and they end up fighting once again in the play Because of the fact that they love each other and they want more than to be disappointed by the other.

and ugh yeah loser geek whatever............just kill me, every time i listen to it it's such a fuckin journey through the emotions of it all and. yknow it's like they say, it's sort of a Victorious Powerful Anthem because jeremy's definitively choosing to take action to change his life, even if he's feeling swept up in that change. but he's also only able to make that choice because he really thinks so little of himself that he's taking the self-contradictory stance of "i have to entirely stop caring about how i feel if i want to achieve my goal of Feeling Good About My Life" and deciding that yeah, his own thoughts and judgment are worthless, and he's choosing to totally accept the guidance of this entity that tells him that his life sucks because everyone sees him as disgusting and awful and they're right to feel that way about him. like he's finding it that easy to accept that he just objectively sucks and that even something so inherent as his sense of what's painful or bad is just wrong, because that's how deep his flaws run. and like yeah again he acknowledges that he's being selfish right there in the lyrics, but that's not exactly meant to be like, he's acknowledging that he's also being Evil And Wrong, because technically wanting himself to be happy is selfish, and that's not bad. he just thinks that the squip is the only way he can maybe be happy, and the only way for the squip to work is if he listens to it, and he can only listen to it if he accepts that it's right about everything including how he's horrible and he can never do things right on his own etc etc etc etc. like, he obviously didn't really expect the squip to be like "you're too gross to live" but it was really not that difficult for the squip to convince him that it was right. he hates himself a lot lol.....

also just, as something generally applicable, it's also no wonder that jeremy's often frustrated with everything and that it bleeds into stuff he says and does and the choices he makes being possibly not the most thought-through or Objective, and how can lose his patience sometimes. like he's out here with his flaws and weaknesses just like anybody else, and it's miscommunication too that's leading to Conflicts / making him feel alone

anyways sorry it took me a few days to answer that and frankly this Could be longer.......neither has anything to do with how much i like getting long messages and answering with long messages and supporting and discussing jeremy heere, b/c i like all of that A Lot, @ me about it at absolutely any time and at any length

[cars-in-space]

Because how could you love someone like me otherwise?

Tw: Self-loathing, self-deprecation, vague hint at past abuse, Sympathetic Deceit (Tell me if I missed any)!

Summary: Deceit wants hugs and affection, so he decides to morph into Joan to get Thomas to hug him.

Not my best work but it’s acceptable.

@chemically-imbalanced-romance​ @callboxkat

 This is for @blue--stopsigns. (Sorry if I missed anybody wanting to be tagged).

Deceit had never had anyone look at him without at least a trace of disgust or fear in their eyes. He’d only ever been chastised for being the liar, the dark side, the slippery snake. 

No one had ever tried to touch him without it being a punch or slap. He’d never held hands with anyone, never had someone lean their head on his shoulder.

And he couldn’t even fathom what getting a hug was like.

But oh, how he longed to.

How he longed to be comforted whenever he just couldn’t stand to look in the mirror anymore, shaking and sobbing at how disgusting he looked with those scales and forked tongue, curled up in the corner of his room crying into his yellow pajamas. 

How he longed to have movie nights with his friends and then pass out around 3 am, only to wake up hours later, movie still playing and everyone huddled together under the blanket, cuddling one another in their sleep. 

How he longed for Thomas to...accept him. To love him, and realize that, truly, not all lies are inherently bad. 

Like every other side, (mostly), Deceit loved Thomas, and tried to help him in the only way he knew how. 

But Deceit knew Thomas could never love him, never scales and all. The voices in his head told him so, every day. Every interaction. Every glance at a mirror or other reflective surface. 

He hated himself; why should anyone else think differently? 

~

One day, when Deceit was curled up in the fetal position in the corner of his room, crying, he got an idea. 

One that would not only change his day, but his life. 

It started with an innocent thought: Why couldn’t I just be Joan or Taylen? They’re both so amazing and Thomas always says he loves them! 

A sudden click could almost be heard as the wheels in Deceit’s brain began to turn. Sure, changing one’s entire form was tiring and difficult, but...the thought of Thomas telling him he loves him...

I’m doing it.

Not thinking about the consequences, Deceit started changing his features into Joan’s. Soon, he had their height, face, and wardrobe exactly right. Now to wait for a moment when Joan wasn’t there by Thomas’s side to sink in and seize his chance to be showered with adoring affection. Just thinking about it was making Deceit smile like a dummy. An idiot. A touch-starved fool. 

Because even though there was a part of him shouting not to go, not to take the risk, not to do it because he didn’t deserve affection...the rest of him desperately wanted to finally experience love. Loving and having them love you back.

Because Deceit had never had that. 

But he sure as heck wanted to start.

~

“I’m gonna go to Starbucks, want anything, Tommy bear?” Taylen said, smiling with their hand hovering over the doorknob. 

“Uh, yeah, maybe a...” Thomas thought about what he might want, “iced coffee?”

“With marshmallows?” Taylen asked with a smile 

“Of course!” Thomas replied with a eye-scrunching grin

“And rainbow sprinkles if they have any?” Joan added, getting up and headed to the door, bracing for the cold weather by pulling their beanie down over their ears

“Hecking superb you funky little non-binary friends!” Thomas said, “You guys know me so well!”

“Haha, well, be back soon friend-o spaghetti-o!” Taylen exclaimed, waving finger guns in the air and heading out the door

“Yep, see you later Thomas!” Joan said, smiling, “Love ya, man.”

“Love you too guys!” Thomas said as both people walked out 

Deceit had to wait a second before sinking in. He had already developed a decent cover story, so it wouldn’t be that hard to get affection from Thomas. He had also decided to use they/them pronouns when describing himself in his head, just to get more into character.

After the two friends drove off to get some snacks and drinks, Deceit rose right in front of the door and opened it. They tried to keep a neutral expression when Thomas looked at them, surprised but in the good, ‘I’m so glad you’re here’ way.

“Oh? Didn’t you just-” Thomas asked, but Deceit Joan interrupted

“I decided to stay here with you!” Joan smiled, walking over and sitting down next to where Thomas was sitting

“Oh! Well, okay then,” Thomas said, shrugging, “hey, do you have any new ideas for a-”

The sight of Thomas smiling at them was too much for Deceit; they couldn’t stand being this close. So even though they were scared, they went for it. 

They hugged Thomas, burying their face into Thomas’s neck. He just felt...so warm...

“Woah, pal, are you alright?” Thomas looked down at his friend, a concerned look bathing his eyes

“It’s amazing.” They whispered softly, mostly to themselves. Tears were forming in the corners of their eyes. Who knew affection could feel this...good?

There was still a part of Deceit that felt horribly guilty about the whole thing, saying he doesn’t actually love him and that tricking Thomas just makes him an even worse person. 

But it was easy to tune that voice out when Thomas hugged Deceit Joan back, and nuzzled his face into his hair a little. 

“Hey, it’s okay, Joangle,” Thomas said, “you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong now, it’s all good. Let it all out.” 

And that’s what happened. Deceit nearly forgot where he was, and that he had a limited amount of time before the actual Joan showed up. 

But he never wanted it to end. Ever. 

He was not going back to feeling empty and cold every day, he was not going back to feeling like he was less-than-worthless, and he was NOT going back to crying himself to sleep at night, wishing he was a normal person and hoping against hope that someone would start to care and love him. 

“Wow, really taking Taylen a long time, hope they’re okay...” Thomas said, Virgil causing him to worry about his friends’ safety excessively, “hey, do you have any ideas for a new sanders sides video? It’s been a while since the last one, and I think the Famders are getting antsy. They might start adopting my pants soon if they don’t get any new content.”

Deceit chuckled at the thought. And, of course, the knowledge that that was entirely plausible for them to do.

“Well, I suppose you could...” It took them a while to gather up the courage, “maybe give Deceit a bit of an arc? Because I think a lot of the fans believe he’s a bad person, and also an arc would just be a really cool thing to do.”

They tried to sound casual, like it was off the top of their head and they didn’t really care too much about the idea. But inside, they were on the edge of their seat.

“Sure!” Thomas said after a second

Deceit couldn’t be happier. If he got a chance to explain to the other sides what was happening...well, needless to say, the opportunity would be taken.

“Hey, wait...” Thomas thought for a second, “do the fans really hate him? I mean, I guess I could see how he might seem...problematic, but he isn’t that bad. He’s just an anti-hero. Helping me, but in his own way. I-”

The door opening cut off the star-shirted man’s words. Deceit nearly had a heart attack.

“Hey Thomas! We got the goods!” Taylen smiled

“Haha, yeah, we-” Joan cut them self off when they saw a person who looked exactly like them sitting on the couch next to his friend

“Joan? Not Joan?” Thomas whipped his head back and forth between the two people, “What’s going on?!”

“I don’t know?!” Taylen said, clutching the coffee cup in their hands

“Uh, I’m the real Joan!” In Deceit’s panic, he didn’t realize that he had forgotten to mask his own voice. He sounded exactly like himself; Deceit. The liar, the Villain, the Snake-Faced Freak. 

“Um...are you...Deceit?” Thomas softly spoke, not wanting to spook the crying crying? side.

“I’m, i’m,” Deceit couldn’t continue. He morphed back into his normal body. Then, as he saw everyone staring, he knew they were thinking about how absolutely hideous he looked. How could they not? 

Then he screamed:

“I’M SORRY!” And sank out as fast as he possibly could

Thomas and his friends didn’t know what to do, they just stared at each other for a second, not knowing how to proceed. 

“...still want the coffee?” Taylen asked, then added, “It’s still warm.”

~~

Deceit sprinted into his room and slammed the door, probably scaring the other dark and light sides. He didn’t care. He had already ruined everything for himself. He was never going to get anymore affection. 

No more ‘I love you’s.

No more hugs or kisses.

No more love.

Not that he deserved any in the first place.

He ran to the corner of his room, curled up into a pathetic ball of sadness and scales, and sobbed. The voices in his head were screaming now; way too much to bear for the poor Snake Face. He grabbed his pillow and held onto it for dear life, imagining it was Thomas, or Virgil, or anyone. 

Not that anyone would.

~~

“Deceit did what?!” Roman yelled, pulling his sword out a bit to prepare, “I’ll get him for what he did to you and your friends, Thomas. I swear, if he eve-”

“No.” Thomas said simply, “No, I will not allow you to do that.” Sounding a bit more like Logan, Thomas looked around at the four sides.

“Wha...what do you mean...no?” Roman asked, squinting his eyes a bit as he slowly put his sword back

“Yes, I to am very confused.” Logan added, “Are you implying that Deceit was not planning something?”

“Yes, yes I am.” Thomas put sternly, then a second later added with a sigh, “I just...you should’ve seen the fear! The sadness! And...you should’ve seen...seen how happy he was when we hugged. He was crying.”

A silence fell upon them for a minute or two.

“Yes,” Logan cleared his throat, “that is rather peculiar, however, I don’t think that’s quite enough proof to assume he had zero bad intentions.”

“Well...we could pull him up and get him here to talk to us.” Patton suggested

“Yes, that’s a great idea Patton!” Roman said, gesturing to the fatherly side with his entire arm. 

“Wait, maybe...” Virgil began, “if he was that shaken up, maybe he needs some time alo-” “Nonsense, emo!” Roman ignored Virgil, “Here comes Deceit!”

They all were taken back when they saw how Deceit looked. 

Roman gasped a bit too dramatically. Patton squeaked in fright. Logan whispered a soft ‘oh no...’. Thomas’s eyes widened. And Virgil glanced at the scaled man knowingly, as if the emo nightmare had had to go through similar things before. Even Deceit’s thoughts were silenced for a few, terror inducing and glorious seconds.

Then they came back full force.

“Uh, uh, uh,i-i-i’m s-sor-sorry, I,” Deceit couldn’t get his heart rate to calm down. He was sweating, and his brain was pounding, and he felt so, so very scared.

He was having a panic attack. 

“Dee, shh,” Virgil ran over to him and gave him a big bear hug, tightly wrapping his arms around the crying man, “it’s all going to be alright. I swear it. We’re gonna treat you better, alright? We..” The usually anxious one’s breath hitched, “we love you.”

Deceit couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It was everything he had ever wanted and more. Tons more. 

He quickly hugged the hooded man back, sobbing into his neck.

“It’s okay, Dee, it’s okay.” Virgil turned ever so slightly in the direction of the other sides and Thomas, glaring at them each, but mostly Roman, “Things will change. You won’t feel unloved anymore, I’ll...we’ll make sure of it. Right guys?”

Virgil said, sharply glaring at the others waiting for them to speak.

“Oh! Well, of course silly! I love all my kids!” A soft ‘we’re not your kids.’ could be heard off in the distance, “Sorry I neglected you for so long, kiddo. I’m just...I feel like a bad father for making you feel this way, you know?”

They looked at Patton worriedly.

“But it’s okay! Because I’m going to make things ten times better!” Patton promised, then flew into the hug, making Deceit feel ten times warmer. 

“Yes, that goes for me too, Deceit,” Logan added, “I’m sorry for what my actions might’ve caused you. Might I offer a fist-bump or high five? Sorry, hugs just aren’t-” 

Virgil yanked Logan into the hug, Logan softly accepting his fate. 

“Well, I suppose this isn’t horrible...ish.”

“Yeah, I’m so sorry. I love you too, man. I mean it.” Thomas said, joining the group hug. The loud, mean voices in Deceit’s head now were gone, leaving only the words of admiration the other sides were giving.

“Yes...I, too, would like to apologize for my behavior. I might’ve...jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry. May I hug you as well?” Roman held up his arms, and joined the hug finally after Deceit nodded ‘yes’.

Things were finally looking up for Deceit. He was finally surrounded by affection and nice words.

“I missed you!”

“You’re great at this!”

“Thanks for your help!”

“You deserve the world, my friend.”

And Deceit’s personal favorite:

“I love you.” 

[dyaz-stories]

The Maid and the Bodyguard - Chapter two

Chapter one - Next - Also available on fanfiction.net.

Kagome was a curious person. She knew it was bad. Well, not inherently bad, but it was definitely not something a good housemaid was supposed to be. Still, she just couldn't help it, even if sometimes it dragged her in rather uncomfortable situations. Maybe it was because, unlike most people here, she had been pushed to develop that curiosity. Her mother had made sure she learnt how to read and write, and as a result, Kagome had taught herself as much as she could through that. It wasn't much, because they couldn't afford teachers or books, but it was still very unusual for someone without a rank.

That was before her grandfather's death, though. After that, her family had lost all income. They were modest before that, only relying on what the priest could gather, but there was a significant difference between modest and starving. This was why Kagome had left when she had been given the offer to work at the castle. At least, that way, they would survive until Sota could start working. He was barely eight when she had left.

She had received a letter from her mother telling her about how him turning nine and their life since she had left, and she preciously kept it hidden in her room.

The safety of which she was currently leaving, after curfew, despite Ayumi's frantic recommendations not to.

With a quick look to both her left and then her right, she decided that things looked fine. She crossed the hallway running, her bare feet allowing her to be almost completely silent. She soon reached the room towards which she was heading and softly knocked against it. It slid open almost immediately, revealing a disheveled Nazuna. The girl had clearly been crying.

"Yes, what— Kagome?" Nazuna grabbed her arm and pulled her in the room, in which she stayed alone. Being the princess' personal maid had its advantages. They both sat on the floor, on Nazuna's mattress.

"I just wanted to check on you," Kagome explained, carefully keeping her voice low. "We didn't see you all day, and with what happened to the princess, we feared you were…" She didn't need to finish this sentence. Nazuna visibly shivered, like Kagome had done in the morning.

"It's nice of you," Nazuna commented. Kagome smiled. The other girl was more isolated due to her job, but they still knew each other enough for her to appreciate the gesture. "I'm… fine. I guess. I just…" She sighed and shook her head.

"It's alright," Kagome said gently, putting her arms around her. "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to."

"But I want to," Nazuna answered with a sob. "I can't keep it all to myself, I feel like it's driving me crazy. It's just, master Ungai, he said that if I ever talked about it he'd—" She hiccuped and pressed her hand against her mouth.

Kagome couldn't help the sudden anger that flowed through her veins. It was easy to guess that that… That awful man had threatened the traumatized girl. It made her want to scream. How dared they? Why was it that all these people considered their lives to be so completely worthless, just because they were born in the wrong place?

Why was there nothing she could do about it?

"It's alright," she whispered. "If you want to talk, I promise I won't tell anyone. If you don't, I can stay here a bit longer if you wish for my company."

Nazuna looked at her for a few seconds, before nodding. She didn't know why, but she wanted to trust Kagome. She had no reason not to. She knew that the girl was nice. After all, Kagome, being one of the only servants who could write and read, had helped her before writing to her dad and had read her his answers, written by the local priest.

"I was the one who… found it."

Kagome nodded, indicating her she was listening. So it was her scream that they had heard in the morning?

"There were p-pieces of bodies, and blood, everywhere," Nazuna cried. "And Inuyasha, he was lying on the ground."

That did surprise Kagome, although she tried her best not to show it. He had looked fine in the interrogation room. Surely, it couldn't have been all his blood. Nazuna was too focused on her memories to notice her confusion.

"Everything in the room had been destroyed, and the Princess, she was nowhere to be found. I remember screaming, and then I think I fainted. I woke up in the infirmary. Inuyasha was there too, but he was already awake and yelling at master Ungai." She shook her head. "It's just… I thought the princess was dead, Kagome."

"So it was Inuyasha's blood then?" Kagome asked, trying not to show too much interest. She didn't need anyone finding out about her stupid crush on the man.

At that, Nazuna simply shrugged. "I guess so. He's a half-demon after all, he would probably survive that." The disdain in her tone made Kagome stiffen, but there was nothing she could say. It was no good, showing sympathy for demons.

"Will you be fine?" she asked softly instead. "I can stay here until morning if you want me to."

But Nazuna shook her head, and wiped her cheeks, as if that would magically make her feel better. "I'll be fine, Kagome, don't worry. Plus, we'll both be in trouble if we're found out." She squeezed her hand. "Thank you for listening."

"Anytime," Kagome answered warmly. "Let me know if you want to write to your family again, okay?"

Nazuna nodded, and soon, Kagome was out in the hallway, running back towards her room. Just as she was going to slip in, a voice behind her made her freeze.

"Stop! Who are you and what are you— Kagome, is that you again?"

The girl cursed under her breath and then turned to give Hojo a smile that managed to be both sheepish and innocent. He had surprised her. She usually could tell when someone was behind her, but apparently, he was too far to be on her radar.

"Sorry, Hojo. I just wanted to check on Nazuna," she said while he walked towards her. To his confused look, she explained: "The princess' maid, the one who found the room this morning."

With another guard, she would have been in deep trouble. But Hojo was not only a nice guy, he was used to that type of stuff coming from her. Kagome would argue that it was definitely not her fault, of course. She couldn't help it, or she just had to be out that late! And he would always let her off with a mere remark.

"Oh," he simply said, nodding. "Well then, just hurry up inside before someone—"

"What the hell's going on here?" A voice barked.

Startled, both of them turned towards the place where it came from, Hojo reaching for his sword and protectively stepping in front of Kagome.

Standing there was Inuyasha, and Kagome held her breath. It was the first time she saw him from so close, and it wasn't exactly the best situation. He snorted at Hojo's move, obviously amused by the mere thought of the human man trying to fight with him, then reported his golden eyes on her. She felt her pulse rushing and hoped she wasn't blushing too much, but he didn't look at her for long. It was rather dark, with only one torch burning on the wall, and he visibly didn't really care for her.

"Any explanation, soldier?" he asked roughly.

Hojo straightened up. Like many men here, he didn't like being ordered around by a half-demon, but he accepted it out of respect for the princess.

"I was just escorting Miss Kagome back to her room because she was delayed tonight," Hojo explained. Neither Kagome nor Inuyasha missed the fact that he didn't add any honorifics, but Inuyasha didn't say anything, although Kagome couldn't help but notice how his ears drooped almost imperceptibly.

"Then what are you waiting for?" he barked. "What d'ya think this is gonna look like on a night like this?"

He stormed past them, leaving behind a surprised Kagome and an angry Hojo.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" he muttered. "If it wasn't for princess Kikyo's kind heart, he wouldn't even be alive."

"But he is, and he was protecting her," Kagome said dryly. Hojo looked down to her, blinking. He hadn't expected the lovely Kagome to retort anything to him.

"Oh how sweet you are," he said, smiling brightly. "It is just like you to want to defend everyone, Kagome. Now get in before anyone else comes by. I fear master Ungai wouldn't let you off like that."

Kagome nodded and managed to bring a smile to her lips when she answered "Sure, thank you, Hojo", before quickly getting into her room. Hojo stood there for a few more seconds, amused, and completely unaware of how annoyed she was.

As soon as she got in, her three roommates pretty much jumped on her, whispering heatedly to know what she had discovered.

"Would you calm down?" she finally protested. "I just checked on Nazuna, and she was fine!"

"Come on Kags," Yuka pleaded. "She must have told you something, right?"

"Of course not! She risks her job here, you know? With the princess gone, she probably doesn't even know whether or not they'll keep her!"

There were a few other whispers, but she just ignored them, and finally, the girls begrudgingly went back to their beds. Kagome did the same, happy to be able to lay down. She didn't give much thought to what had all happened. In her mind, there was no doubt that the princess would be found soon, and that everything would get back to how it all was before.

After that, a few days went by without any new events or informations. It wasn't like the domestics would have been told anything, but most of them could tell when there was a shift in the global atmosphere of the castle, and so far, there was simply nothing going on. Yes, globally, everyone was tense. The soldiers were particularly on edge, but the servants all remembered vividly the death threat that was above their heads, should anyone outside of the castle find out what was happening.

Kagome also kept an eye out for Inuyasha. She knew it was ridiculous, and the man certainly never seemed to notice her, but she just did. She saw him more during the week that followed the princess's disappearance than she had in the past eight months, since she had arrived here. He was always walking fast, seemingly ignoring the whispers he created on his way. Kagome had noticed that his ears were often twitching in the direction of the people talking though, so she wondered whether or not he actually heard it all.

The situation was probably particularly hard on him, she found herself thinking while tending to her chores. He was very attached to the princess, and he was the one who was supposed to be protecting her, so he must have been feeling awfully guilty about the kidnapping. Sometimes, she noticed him, jumping onto the walls around the gardens, and looking away. He never actually left, but she guessed he wanted to. Probably to go after the princess.

She wanted to talk to him more than once, but always felt intimidated. Everyone said he was agressive and rude, and so in the end, she didn't.

At least, until Hojo came to look for her. She was focused on washing sheets, and didn't notice him before he was right behind her. When he put his hand on her shoulder, though, she was aware of his presence, and could even guess it was him. She turned to look at him, worried. The other girls were focused on their work, but like Kagome, they had all mastered the art of watching without looking up.

"Hojo?" she asked. "What…"

"I need you to follow me, Kagome," he answered, his voice surprisingly formal. "You are awaited. If you could please come with me…"

He took a step, looking at her expectantly. Kagome knew she should just follow him, but she had no idea why he wanted her to go with him.

"But my work?" she said, only trying to gain time to figure out what on earth was going on.

Hojo simply shook his head. "It will be fine, Kagome. Now come, please."

She nodded shakily and started walking behind him. The only thing she could think of was the Queen's threat. But she hadn't said anything! What if she was accused of something she hadn't done? How would she get out of it? Oh God— If they learned she could read and write, it would make it much easier to accuse her, even though she was innocent.

It was with those thoughts in mind that Kagome was gently pushed in a room, in the Queen's part of the castle. It took her a second to understand that the Queen was there. The door slid close without her without a sound, and she moved to throw herself on her knees, but the Queen was quick to dismiss that.

"Please don't, child," she sighed, her voice tired. "Such formalities are not needed now. Is Inuyasha coming?" she asked, turning to master Ungai who was standing a step behind her.

"I sent for him," the man answered, immobile. "What do you think of her, my Queen?"

Kagome shot him a shocked glance. What did he mean by that? Why would the Queen know anything about her? She remained frozen as the Queen slowly towards her.

"Ye were quite right, Ungai," she commented, her one eye staring at Kagome. "Lean towards me, child," she ordered, "so that I can see you."

Kagome obeyed, vaguely noting the Queen's strong and oddly rural accent. She was pretty sure she had never heard it before. The Queen looked at her intensely, her pupil moving to take in the young woman's face, and finally nodded, apparently satisfied by what she was seeing.

"The resemblance truly is eerie."

"I noticed it instantly, my Queen," Ungai answered dejectedly, "and immediately thought it could be of use."

Kagome was lost. What resemblance? What use? What were they trying to do with her? In other circumstances, she would have assumed she was going to be sold in some underground market, but there was no way the Queen and the captain of the guards would do that… Right?

She didn't get much more time to think about it, because the door was suddenly opened and then closed in a violent movement.

"What d'ya want?" Inuyasha's angry voice growled.

Ungai took a step, his face morphing into a furious expression, but Kaede stopped him, simply by raising her hand.

"Inuyasha, I would like you to meet Kagome."

Kagome could only blink at the information that the Queen knew her name, but then turned, bowing, towards Inuyasha, who didn't pay any attention to her.

"Yeah I know, I smelled her before, what the fuck do you want me to—"

"Inuyasha. Just look."

With an annoyed sigh, he did look at her. Her heart was beating like crazy in her chest, and she hoped she wasn't blushing too much. It was the first time ever they actually… Well… Saw each other. Or at least, the first time he ever acknowledged her existence. She had been imagining that moment more than once, but she had never expected the look of surprise on his face, and she had certainly not expected him to turn back to the Queen and ask, obviously distressed: "Is that supposed to be a joke? Who is that?"

It would have been a lie if she said she hadn't felt hurt at how he vaguely gestured at her or how he addressed her. She felt herself shrinking back, trying to disappear. She knew she shouldn't have imagined this encounter so much. Reality was always less fun than what her mind put together.

"If it is a joke, tis destiny's," Kaede answered. "I had never met the girl before today. You must have seen her though, as Ungai mentioned you interrogated her together."

"I told ya, I smelled her, I didn't look at her. I didn't expect… Well, this."

Kagome was rather starting to lose her patience. They talked as if she wasn't even in the room, and it was really getting on her nerves. She knew better than to voice that, though, and she didn't open her mouth, patiently waiting for someone to explain her what on earth was going on.

"Now listen, children," Kaede said, and Kagome's eyes widened when she realized that she was talking to both her and Inuyasha. "We received alarming news today. Ungai, would ye please tell them about the letter?"

"What letter?" Inuyasha immediately asked. "Did you get news from Kikyo and didn't tell—"

"I recall telling you not being so familiar with the princess," Ungai's voice rung out, making Inuyasha's ears flatten against his head like Kagome had seen before. "Remember, without her here, your status is… uncertain."

Inuyasha didn't answer anything, although he certainly looked like he wanted to.

"Good. The letter we received came from a demon named Naraku. He said to be the one who has taken Princess Kikyo and—"

"Where is he?" Inuyasha hissed.

Kagome looked at him in surprise, confused by the low rumble she heard coming from him. Was he… Was he actually growling? He seemed furious enough to do so, but it was the first time she ever heard the sound.

"I would be faster if you stopped interrupting me!" Ungai snapped. "He apparently comes from the lands of the North, which is where he took the Princess. He seems to have some demonic ability that allows him to be very fast. He says here that he wants a… ransom."

"Well let's give that to him!" Inuyasha immediately said, obviously angry. "The fuck did you need a reunion for?"

Such language in front of the Queen seemed unimaginable to Kagome, but no one seemed shocked, even though master Ungai's eyelid twitched dangerously, so she guessed it was pretty normal for Inuyasha.

"What he is asking for is Kikyo's hand, Inuyasha," the Queen answered with a tired voice. "He wants to become King of this country."

Inuyasha went completely stiff at those words. He froze, and his mouth gaped open. Kagome couldn't tell what was going through his mind, no matter how much she looked at him, although she could definitely take a guess.

"Wh— And is that— Are you—"

"I am obviously not going to give my granddaughter away to some demon," Kaede answered, a spark of sympathy in her eye. "This is precisely why ye are both here."

Inuyasha frowned. Both? Who was the other one? Oh. Yeah. The girl. The one who looked so much like…

"Kagome," Kaede started. "I'm sure ye must be wondering why ye are here. What Ungai noticed, when he first saw ye, was how much ye look like my beloved Kikyo."

It was Kagome's turn to freeze. She didn't flinch, even when the Queen slowly moved her wrinkled hand to softly cup her cheek.

"We can't send men after this Naraku," Kaede explained. "People would understand that something happened in the castle, and we cannot have that happening. Other lords would take advantage of it. But we can send Inuyasha." So far, it all made sense. "With you."

Kagome numbly heard Inuyasha's protests, which she really should have felt offended by, but they just didn't seem to register. What the Queen had just said… It was impossible. It was stupid. It made no sense whatsoever.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Inuyasha was yelling. "Why would make me travel with that girl? What good's she gonna do? I'll be much faster on my own, and I'll get Kikyo out of there and bring her back here! I don't need no—"

"What do ye think people will do when they will see a half-demon alone, walking through the country?" Kaede asked, interrupting him. "They will either try to kill ye or capture ye, or they will recognize ye and understand that ye are here for the princess. But with her… With her, they will probably assume that she is the princess, and she is just traveling the lands. That way, ye will be safe, which means more chances to get Kikyo back here. Ye will be on yer own out there, Inuyasha. We cannot risk losing ye. Ye know Kikyo would not forgive me for that."

That was stupid, and no one in the room was missing it. He could die out there, and what would Kikyo say then? But the argument seemed to work on Inuyasha, and he nodded slowly.

"Kagome," Kaede continued, "if ye accept to do this, ye will be sent back to yer family with enough money to provide for them for the rest of their lives and yers." At those words, Kagome felt like she had stopped breathing. She hadn't really considered refusing, not if Kikyo's life was at stake, but this seemed like a miracle. All she had to do was travel with Inuyasha basically pretending to be the princess?

"I-I will," she stuttered with several nods. "I— Yes. I will go."

She heard Inuyasha's scoff.

"She'll have to do a lot better than that if she wants people to believe that she's Kikyo." His voice was full of deference. "We sure are lucky that there ain't any other demons here, 'cause that smell sure wouldn't have fooled them."

Kagome shot him a shocked look, and her lips moved before she could think. "Are you saying that I smell?" she asked. She instantly wanted to take back the words, certainly not wanting to anger the man she was going to travel with — and not wanting to anger that man in any way, dammit — but she just stared at him, refusing to apologize.

Inuyasha smirked mockingly. "Look at that, she can talk!"

She had never wanted to slap someone so much in her entire life. And she had an extremely annoying little brother.

"Kagome, go pack," Kaede ordered. "The two of ye will leave tomorrow at dawn. Ye are now dismissed. I still have instructions for Inuyasha."

Kagome gave a deep bow and walked out, thinking nothing of it. Inuyasha probably had specific informations that he needed, as to what to do once they'd reached that Naraku's place, that sort of things. For once in her life, she wasn't curious.

Maybe she should have been.

"Better get more convincin' than you were before," Inuyasha said as soon as Kagome was out. "Cause there ain't no way you're making me take her for safety. That can't be good for either of us."

Kaede nodded solemnly. "Ye are right, Inuyasha. I expect ye to get Kikyo to escape, or to make sure, at whatever cost, that she comes out alive." Inuyasha's face darkened. She was asking him to kill for her. And the worst part was, she knew he would do it if Kikyo's safety was at risk. Fuck. He hated killing. "However, should ye not feel like this is a possibility…"

She paused, and Inuyasha could tell that she wasn't comfortable with whatever it was that she was thinking. She closed her eye, and Inuyasha waited for as long as he could before he lost her patience.

"What now?"

Kaede opened her eye and looked at him.

"I want ye to substitute Kagome with Kikyo."

Inuyasha blinked. This… felt wrong. He didn't know the girl, didn't really care for her, but this still didn't sound right.

"You sure?" he simply asked.

Kaede sighed, which didn't surprise him. If his conscience had a problem with that, there was no doubt hers was probably screaming at her right now. However, it was clear that the queen had made her decision.

"Yes. These lands need their Queen. Kikyo has many powers, and she will do a wonderful Queen, as soon as she'll get married. We cannot have a succession war, and the only way to make sure this doesn't happen, is by bringing her back here. Do ye understand, Inuyasha?"

He gulped down. He felt a weird lump in his throat. He wasn't used to the feeling of guilt, and it had haunted him way too much in the past week. He knew Kaede was right, probably, but the truth was, he didn't really care. All he cared about was Kikyo — or that was what he kept repeating himself. Made it easier not to get hurt at the rest of the world hating him. If people got hurt on his way to her, then it was what it took. He nodded.

"I'll do what's necessary. But demons may not be fooled very long."

Kaede seemed relieved at that.

"Very well then. We do not need long. We just need ye to bring Kikyo back. Ye will take her bow and arrow to her, and then she should be able to deal with the situation herself." There was a silence after that, during which she looked lost in her thoughts, before she blinked and glared at him. "Ye should go start packing now."

Inuyasha nodded, and that was the only salute she got before he left. Once he was outside, he grinned joylessly. Like she didn't know as well as he did that he had nothing to take with him…

"You did the right thing, my Queen," Ungai said in the now almost empty room.

"I know that is what my mind recommends," Kaede said, looking exhausted, "but I cannot get my heart to agree to it. I will pray for all those children to return safely."

She was convinced that this needed to be done, if the situation she had mentioned to Inuyasha was to occur.

She just would never forgive herself if it happened.

[knightofbalance-13]

https://rampantlytyping.tumblr.com/post/174581718969/for-fuck-sake

“Oh, it gets worse. Because I’ve read the archives of KOB’s reddit account. (Link here for reference, someone may wanna archive this in case KOB pulls a Delete Fucking Everything)

Never before have I seen something that would backfire so hard.

First of all, I’d recommend a look at the very first comment on that Reddit account, which was a screed about FatManFalling’s Volume 3 review. So much of modern KOB can be traced back here- has hatred of the word “the” and insistence on trying to replace it with “teh,” his long paragraphs, condescending attitude and personal attacks/insults (Also, for the record, “Fatass” is one of the worst mocking nicknames I’ve ever see on Reddit).

Actually-

https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/5jdst1/cowardly_lion_taiyang_fanfiction/

This is. Thing is: this would HUMANIZE me. But god knows you can’t think of your opposition as human.

First is mischaractization.

Second is not a moral argument.

Third is conflating me being angry with who I am normally.

And fourth is downplayed since this whole post is nothing BUT a personal attack.

Also: Never said I was clever.

There’s also this post after Volume 4 which is basically “So the RWDE tag sucks amirite?”

No, the title is what I meant.

But a relevant comment that Caddeter and @psyga315 should see is this one. I’ll quote it directly, emphasis mine at the end:

Backfire in 3...2...1

“Now I know many of you are thinking “Why should I care?”

Well, because these people are in a dangerous mindset of ignoring everything that isn’t their opinion and warping that to justify their feelings.

I gave a comment on this journal pointing out the flaws in his work. The closest thing I said to an insult was saying that his usage of the term “man-pain” was stupid in any context. And when I admitted I wasn’t aiming towards him but his audience who weren’t sure about V3’s finale, he blocked me, deleted my comments (EDIT: he’s admitted to being wrong about teh previous two and has restored my comments. Still blocked but I have a way around it that he knows) and warped my words. Something he claimed Miles and Kerry did, minus the last part.

I ask of you: Say what you think about this. And not just the journal, what you thought of Pyrrha’s death. Not what he said, not what I said. But what you want to say.

Now GO!”

Now, if I was a generous man, this in context could be KOB asking for discussion on the Reddit.

I am not a generous man. To me, it looks like KOB deliberately inciting the Reddit post-Volume 3 (when they were most protective of RWBY as it was the last season that Monty would have definitely worked on) and encouraging them to dogpile the journal author.

Yeah...

Three things:

A. The time period this was made is post Volume 4, Not 3. So that’s bullshit.

B. https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/5khw9y/my_thoughts_on_pyrrhas_death_rwby_and_rt_by_jswf/dbo9z0v/

Oh hey look, there’s someone disagreeing witrh me and I ENCOURAGED them. So that’s also bullshit.

C. https://www.reddit.com/r/RWBY/comments/5khw9y/my_thoughts_on_pyrrhas_death_rwby_and_rt_by_jswf/dboysk7/

Okay everyone, I have to ask that no one goes to the link and comments. The author is getting too stressed out by his debate with me and I don't want him to break.

So please, keep your discussions here.

Outright contradicted. Three strikes, you’re out.

And the worst thing? He had no empathy to the situation. Quote (again, emphasis mine):

“Well, don’t fight him. He’s…not right in the head.

Like I was arguing with him and he…wanted to kill himself.

And I didn’t even try being mean.”

Remember that in the Deviantart comments, KOB said that he could be “far far far crueler.”

As evidence by this post, where I am going to turn EVERYTHING against you. https://comments.deviantart.com/1/619991269/4290345087?offset=25#comments “*Sigh* Look, I never meant for you to get this stressed out. Hell, I understand where your coming from. Thinking about killing myself is such a common occurrence now I'm not even fazed by it anymore. So putting aside my feeling towards you and your conduct, I want you to listen to what i have to say: Your life matters. No matter what you think I've said, no matter what other people have said, no matter what you say, your life matters. You have friends and family who love and care about you and if you kill yourself, all it will do is wound those around you. It's painful I know but it's true. The best thing you can do is seek help above all else. Trust me, psychiatrists maybe be expensive by by divinty' sake they are miracle workers. And I know you're sick of hearing about this anime but really, look up Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann. That anime is a large part of why I get out of bed in the morning even thought I know there's a very good chance I'll choke to death on my breakfast, lunch or dinner or that my life probably doesn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. It taught me to keep moving forward no matter what I lose or what I suffer because there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The journey is hard and long but it's worth it. I never intended on hurting you. Had I known you were this psychologically fragile or you were this invested in Pyrrha I would have said nothing. I understand where you are coming from and I'm sorry I did so much damage to you. I was wrong and you were right. Good day.” No empathy huh? “Also while I’m here, how about this long callout post about RWBY Analysis after she was angry at some art from Dishwasher that had Enabler undertones (complete with the classic “I used to respect you” card which you can always imagine someone saying within the context “I used to respect you when you agreed with me.”). And here’s her reaction, which should be recorded alongside the Great Fire of London as one of the greatest burns in history.”

Ah yes, a callout post...Where I didn’t call her out once...

But I guess the actual post looks pretty fucking bad for you (https://knightofbalance-13.tumblr.com/post/172361707730/httpsrwby-analysistumblrcompost172345982047) since it is short and-oh yeah-SHE WAS SLANDERING SOMEONE. Good job completely missing the point eh?

But sure Knight of Balance. Tell us all about how you never meant for any of this to escalate and how sorry you were. It’s not like your own accounts show you to be a liar who instigated a harassment campaign and showed no empathy upon hearing that it was partially successful. You can surround yourself all you want with your little cabal of white knights like Sunder the Gold and MageKnight who will go to bat for you when they can. You can claim all you want that what you do is a crusade to purify RWBY and Make The FNDM Great Again or some bullshit like that because you seem to think that if you kill RWDE, Miles will personally fly out to thank you for saving RWBY. And you can even run to other fandoms like Darling in the Franxx or FLCL where your name isn’t poison. But we all know what you are.

I didn’t mean for thing to escalate as evident by how I TRIED TO STOP IT,

No empathy when I actively tried to call him down MYSELF.

That sounds pretty fucking ironic  considering that you surround yourself in haters like Dudeblade and Cadder there who will never ever think to question you or themselves. But as for that Sunder thing.. Well I’ll get to that latter but let’s just say, it’s a show of self control how I’m not screaming my head off.

Oh and you’re any different? You probably think ‘I f I get rid of all the fanboys, M&K will HAVE TO listen to my obviously not biased criticism and I’ll Make RWBY Great Again! Then Monty Sempai will rise form the grave to thank me for saving his legacy!’

Please, I’d sit Miles down and give him a lecture on how a timeline is VERY important for a long running show and keeping time skips vague to ‘avoid plotholes’ would in fact make MORE of them. Though I’d probably force him to attend a writing class, Just because I respect the guy doesn’t mean I see him as flawless.

Yerah, doesn’t work when I did the EXACT SAME THING I did here in Franxx. I obviously do not care about my reputation worldwide.

Here’s the thing: I do not regret many things in my time on the internet. I regret not asking about internet customs so i could know things like alt accounts were a bad thing. I regret my raging outbursts at innocent people because I was an immature fuckhead. I regret interacting with RWBYcrit. ... That’s it. My fight against RWDE? My battle against shitty critics? I do not regret that one bit. I fought for what I believed was right and got to meet amazing people along the way. I think I’ve even grown as a person. So no dice bitch.

You’re a schoolyard bully with a stick and anger problems. You’re a child throwing a temper tantrum, unaware of how if Miles or Kerry saw what you’ve said and done, they’d be disgusted in you and would shame you for the world to see. You are nothing. In the grand scheme of life, this will be your legacy. You will never amount to anything significant in this lifetime, and your life peaked before you even hit your twenties. KOB, I really hope you realize how in just under two and a half years, you have made nearly the entire fandom hate your guts.

... And?

Oh you thought this was gonna hurt me? You think you saying I have anger issues is gonna hurt me when I’ve acknowledged that as one of my worst traits. You think telling me Miles and Kerry would be disgusted with me is gonna hurt me when I am not them, they are not me and I am fighting primarily for myself? You think you calling me worthless and saying I will never amount to anything in my lifetime when I’m a fucking existentialist AKA someone who believes that there is no inherent worth in life? Bitch, I say worse things about myself every day.

And the rest is either lies (the fandom as a whole, even on Tumblr, DOESN’T CARE ABOUT ME.) or shows you’re projecting onto me (’You’re a bully!’ says the bullies.)

Let me break this down: We all hate you on Tumblr,

God, stop projecting your ego onto me, I know the fandom as whole on Tumblr doesn’t care about me.

You haven’t shown your face on Twitter

https://twitter.com/KOB13x

Shows what you know.

and when someone cited you in a Reddit post, everyone warned them not to link to you because you’re a toxic influence.

Considering how you’ve been posting links throughout this whole post, why should I believe you if you suspiciously DON’T provide proof of this. And again: stop projecting your ego onto me.

For Christ’s sake KOB, FatManFalling can get his stuff posted on R/RWBY. It’s extensively mocked, yes, but it’s still allowed.

To the point it regularly gets kicked off reddit for having massive downvotes.

You’re so bad you haven’t even got that privilege. Let that sink in and realize what it says about you.

A. Proof

B. Not the same context.

And C. I don’t care.

Because this is coming from someone who tried throwing Sunder The Gold under the bus by saying he associates with me. DESPITE the fact that we haven;’t talked to each other in MONTHS. Why did you say this then? Oh right, Sunder is a fan of RWBY ergo he must be eliminated right? Because anyone who doesn’t conform to your fucking hivemind and treat the show AND ESPECIALLY the creators like shit is a heretic right?

That’s why I do this. Because you people are fucking AWFUL in every sense of the word. Everything you just tried to pin on me applies to YOU instead and then we can add on EVEN MORE and EVEN MORE DISGUSTING shit to that pile.I don;t like Steven Universe but I am JUST as disgusted by SU‘s fandom and it’s bullshit. This has nothing to do with RWBY anymore, this has to do with you people DESTROYING INNOCENT LIVES. That is YOUR legacy: the ruins of people’s lives and the destruction of a show people hold dear all because you decided to embody the WORST aspects of humanity.

In short: Fuck you.

Oh, PS:

https://knightofbalance-13.tumblr.com/post/162724070290/rampantlytyping-knightofbalance-13-hey

Guess you’re in the same boat as me eh?

[shsl-shipper-gamer-fangirl]

A/N: This was just too chaotic to pass up. My problematic sons. 

Other switch AUs: luckster | togami | naegi | detective | maid | liar | protagonist dr1/sdr2 | protagonist dr1/ndrv3 | protagonist sdr2/ndrv3 |  heroine dr1/sdr2 | heroine dr1/ndrv3 | heroine sdr2/ndrv3 | fem protag dr:ae/ndrv3 | mastermind

Troublemaker in the Wrong Game - Komaeda and Ouma

"Stop lying! Stop manipulating! Why don't you just try being nice for once?"

There's nothing inherently wrong with the statement itself... except for who said it.

"Who the fuck are you to lecture us on that?" Kuzuryuu angrily yelled. He sounded like he was just about to commit murder.

"Obviously I'm the good guy!" Ouma huffed defiantly. "And you're all just a bunch of meanies ganging up on me!"

"Now you're just lying straight up from your ass!" Souda pointed at him.

"Am I really the liar? Maybe I'm the only one telling the truth here and all of you are just lying to make yourselves feel better!"

"Eh? Is... Is that t-true?" Mikan nervously asked.

"Of course! Now say you're sorry you fanservice orange!" Ouma yelled all too suddenly for the nurse.

"EH? S-Sorry! I'm so sorry!" She cried.

"What are you apologizing for, pig barf?" Saionji added even more insult. "Yeah, you should be sorry for existing but you shouldn't apologize to this gremlin nightmare."

"Woooow, that really hurts coming from the kid who's definitely shorter than me." Ouma even made a face of mock hurt.

"You know at your height, it's perfect for giving a blowjob to—" Hanamura was abruptly cut off.

"Keep it in your pants Hamham!"

"I think we're getting a bit sidetracked here..." Koizumi took charge to reign in the chaos. "Can we please just get back to the trial?"

"Yeah! I know you all love me but you shouldn't forget that we're playing a game right now! You shouldn't get distracted so easily!" Ouma lectured them on. "By the way, where did we stop?"

"You just confessed to knowing who the culprit is," Pekoyama answered him.

"Oh, that's right." Ouma nodded. "That was a lie of course. I obviously just lied about it just like how I lied about the truth before that was even brought up. Geez, keep up with me you guys."

"Eh?? So wait. If you lied about telling the truth, but that truth was also a lie, but the lie was a lie within a lie, then that means..." Ibuki scratched her head in confusion. "So what is the truth?!"

"You tell me! I don't get it either!"

"I'm can't figure it out either," Owari cracked her knuckles threateningly. "Alright, I'm gonna beat the truth out of you!"

"Waaaaaaaaaaaah!" Ouma bawled like a kid. "Help me! I'm being bullied!"

"No, she will not beat you up," Nidai calmly intervened. "However, that does not excuse your actions."

"Who are you to tell me what's inexcusable?" Ouma suddenly turned serious. "Or have you forgotten that we live on an island where the rules are decided by a bear who wants us to kill each other? Really, can you blame me for making the most out of this game?"

"You indeed reek of sin, you scoundrel," Gundam practically spat his spite. "To take pleasure in the struggles of innocents, your malice knows no human bounds."

"Well don't blame me if you're bad at murder and killing games. That's on you," Ouma rebuffed.

"Please, you do not wish to perish, right? Then why not just simply cooperate with us and tell us what you know," Sonia almost pleaded.

"Geez, this is the problem with ungrateful talented jerks. They think they can get everything easy." Ouma sighed. "That's so annoying! So boring! I hate all of you!"

"Hey, Ouma," Nanami softly spoke. "If you keep telling lies and hurting people, you'll get misunderstood easily. And that would be sad and lonely... I think."

"Hmmm?" Ouma eyed her levelly. "You know, rather than waste your detective gaming skills analyzing me, you should  focus more on catching the culprit if I were you, Nanamemes."

"Just cut the bullshit already," Hinata warned. "We're going to cut through your lies anyway so let's just get this over with."

"You say that as if you hate my lies." Ouma frowned but that didn't last long. "But I wonder... Which one will you hate more? Lies or the truth?"

Ouma was grinning and it sent a foreboding feeling throughout the room.

"Would you rather have a kind lie or a cruel truth?"

Meanwhile, in another class...

"How wonderful! The despair of losing a classmate is no match against your sparkling hopes!"

There's nothing inherently wrong with the statement itself... except for who said it.

"Um, while I agree with your sentiment, it is confusing to determine what to feel overall considering that you had a hand in the despair in the first place," Kiibo warily voiced out.

"Oh, are you saying that I helped despair instead of hope? I see..." Komaeda pondered on that for a moment. "Ah, but don't worry! I'm rooting for hope, of course. I just created a small despair to be a stepping stone for your hope!"

"This so called stepping stone of yours is our dead classmate," Hoshi glared.

"Yes, it is quite unfortunate to lose Amami." Komaeda sighed wistfully. "I was looking forward to seeing what amazing hope he held inside of him."

"Inside him? Didn't know you swung that way, Cumaeda!" Iruma hollered.

Komaeda neither confirmed nor denied it. Perhaps he just ignored the inappropriate comment altogether. "It's such a shame that garbage like me has survived and yet dear Amami is gone too soon. It would seem that my shsl luck has cycled towards bad this time."

"You speak so fondly of Amami and yet you had killed him," Kirumi said matter-of-factly. "Why then would you choose him to be your victim?"

"Did I kill him though, I wonder..." Komaeda cryptically dropped. "Well I will tell you that Amami was definitely not the intended target. In fact, I didn't have anyone specific in mind at all. He just happened to walk by at the wrong place and at the wrong time."

"You degenerate male! Are you saying that you could have killed anyone in this room?" Tenko asked with a threatening pose.

"Yes, I thought that much was obvious," Komaeda spoke as if it was the most uninteresting fact in the world.

"Why? Do you really want to get out so badly?" Yumeno quietly asked.

"Oh, no. Trash like me don't deserve a place anywhere, much less getting just myself out when there are people here who are worth so much more than me."

"Oi oi, are you saying you killed someone with no intention of leaving this place at all?" Momota asked, concerned.

"Hmmm. Maybe?"

"Do you want to die?" Maki asked with a sharp glare.

"Honestly? If it helps your hope shine then I would gladly offer my life!" Komaeda laughed all too happily that it was disturbing.

"Ooooh! If you want to die so badly then Atua is taking sacrifices!" Angie innocently offered.

"Wow, really? That's too good of a deal. My worthless life in exchange for the betterment of your hope. That's way too good of a deal!" Komaeda exclaimed.

"No! Gonta don't want friend to die!"

"I..." And then the oddest thing happened. Komaeda started crying. "You truly are the embodiment of hope. To think that someone would be so concerned over scum like me... Maybe I am lucky after all."

"Hey, Komaeda. I have one question." Saihara who has been quietly pondering all this time, finally spoke up. "Have you ever tested your trap?"

"Not at all," Komaeda flatly answered. "I don't need to because I already have luck."

"Luck? Oh, I get it!" Shirogane clapped her hands. "Since your talent is luck, you were already confident that the shot put ball would hit the target regardless."

"How curious, kukuku." Korekiyo laughed. "A person who could bend luck towards their favor. Is this the truth behind your talent?"

"Ahaha, it's hard to tell. As long as it's possible, no matter how small the odds are, then I can still luck out and I do. However, my luck has a cycle," Komaeda explained. "If something good happens then something equally bad will happen after. And vice versa. But I'm used to it. After all, but everything works out for me in the end."

"Wait... Your luck cycles..." Akamatsu turned to him as if she had been struck with an epiphany. "Then... is killing Amami good or bad luck?"

"Hmmm, who knows? I honestly can't tell until after the fact."

"But you said that in the end, everything works out for you. That means you always achieve what you aim for no matter how roundabout the method is." Akamatsu reiterated. "You said it yourself. Killing Amami wasn't your goal, it was only a means. You've yet to say what your true goal is."

"What of it though?" Komaeda asked with feigned ignorance.

"That's... That's right." However, it was Saihara who answered. "Komaeda said he never tested the trap so we can't confirm if it works. If we say that the trap relies purely on his luck and if his luck depends on his motives then... Then we need to know Komaeda's motive before concluding that he is the culprit."

Komaeda simply smiled in return.

"Won't you show me just how brilliant your hopes are?"

The two troublemakers continued to struggle with trials of their own and unbeknownst to them that they were in the wrong class.

[janiedean]

finn and poe’s sl in the last jedi: a few considerations

first thing to state: these two both needed to have some kind of journey from A to B in order to arrive at the ending that this movie had in mind and the set-up for IX, finn needed to deal with Some Issues that were there since TFA and poe needed a lot of screentime to make up for the fact that while he’s one of the main three, in TFA he had very limited screen time. now.

finn:

needed to work on his main **character flaw** that was stated in TFA, ie: he tends to go flight when in a flight or fight response, which is entirely understandable from his POV but not exactly useful if he has to, uh, *be in a rebel resistance*;

needed to know more people and see more beyond what he knew since he’s been a stormtrooper all his life and only ever worked for the first order and he can’t get around just knowing rey and poe and maybe leia but it’s not like they knew each other;

needed to see beyond his stormtrooper bringing up and get around, you know, having individuality;

what this movie did was addressing all of that by:

sending him away from the only two people he knows (okay, poe not so much because they were in contact always but still) so that he has the chance to, you know, leave and come back;

giving him a storyline with rose ie someone who has entirely good reasons to fight for the resistance and lost her family and everything she had and opened his eyes to other horrid shit the first order did (you know, he goes from ‘this town is beautiful’ to helping her tear it apart sooo) and who admires him first as an icon but then as himself and is willing to die for *him* without really owing him anything beforehand;

doing that, he realized which were his priorities, he fought for people other than his two friends, he realized that he wanted to be rebel scum (or did I dream that conversation with phasma) and by the end he was about to die for the cause when in the beginning his first thought was running (without even warning poe for that matter) so that he’d save his ass and rey’s. which is entirely understandable from his pov, again, but it was something the movie needed to address and is named character development, which he got in spades;

now he’s reunited with his friends, made more friends, knows his place in the world and doesn’t want to run anymore. mission accomplished.

poe:

needed more time to have his personality established given his lack thereof in TFA;

needed to be established as leia’s successor which this movie obviously was pointing at;

needed to learn the skills to be a good leader;

now, they could have shown him already being good at it, but thing is: this movie ran two hours and a half and no one wants a Perfect Protagonist Without A Flaw in movies, because it’s completely unrealistic and the fact that poe was a+++ amazing in TFA worked because we saw him less than the other two, if he was like that all the time he’d have been a gary stu.

so, what this movie did was addressing all of the above by:

giving him a hell of a lot of screentime which was used to show us that while he’s an excellent guy all around he does have some flaws;

(which are all by the way entirely consistent with his character because if he’s a hothead who likes to blow things up and fly in the middle of the action he most likely won’t consider that sometimes you have to retreat or that sometimes you have to look at saving lives rather than making sacrifices of most people you have before being left with a handful)

establishing that he and leia have definitely a parental/familial vibe because she basically treats him like she’d treat her own family and they’re familiar in ways you are not with your boss;

putting him in a situation where he realizes that acting rashly means you get demoted regardless of how good you are at your job;

giving him the tension with holdo which made him realize that you can be a good leader also by retreating and not ATTACKING all the time, that sometimes you have to buy time like that and that it’s not cowardly to run and that it’s not necessary to go around sacrificing your own life and others’s for the cause;

doing all of the above, he went from promising general to virtually effective leia substitute, because at the end of the movie he did exactly the contrary of what he did in the beginning, told finn what leia told him (to disengage), stopped finn from going after kylo and luke when he realized luke was buying them time so they could run, and leia herself told people to follow him and not her, which brings us to the conclusion that the infamous rewrites post-tfa most likely were to give him a larger role and effectively set him up to become the next general (also because let’s be real, if han died in VII and luke died in this one, leia was gonna die in the next one if carrie had lived to act in it, and all of them needed the new trio to pick up where they left from), and this when poe was a character who was supposed to be killed at the beginning of tfa.

like, they gave all of this hell of a storyline to a character who was supposed to not even survive the first movie, that’s how much they liked him and how much they accounted for the fans liking him.

so: what happened with this movie was giving them arcs with proper screentime for both which addressed points that couldn’t be addressed in TFA and set them up respectively to a) finn being a full part of the resistance where he’s staying by his own choice and where he’s made friends and found his own individuality and not forcing him to be it which would have happened if he stayed in the main ship for the entirety of tlj, he needed to leave and come back and get rid of his former boss/phasma to fully leave his past behind, b) poe being the new general of the resistance with leia’s full blessing and after we saw that he learned how to be one and we can trust him to take good decisions because he learned on his own skin what it means to take bad ones.

doesn’t seem to me like *character assassination*, except that of course we get to the crux of the problem which is, ‘stormpilot didn’t happen’ and ‘neither of them is confirmed gay’ and apparently that trumps everything else. ship discourse under the cut because this post is long.

now:

this is the middle movie of this trilogy. if stormpilot was gonna be a thing I highly doubt it’d have been a thing here since we’ve seen that people were clutching their pearls over freaking lefou in b&b and here we’re talking about main characters - if it was happening, it would happen next movie;

if they locked lips now it’d have been in a situation where finn literally knows no one except rey and poe and we don’t know anything about poe except that he’s a good pilot, he’s a nice guy and looks hot in leather jackets, which.. I mean, do we want them to establish their personality before thinking about them kissing?

neither of them was *confirmed gay* (though I mean with finn I guess he’d need some experimentation around to find out what he likes but never mind) and finn and rose kissed and poe was flirty-ish with rey so OMG HORRIBLENESS: you know, they could.... be bisexual. or pansexual. both of them. which would also mean they might be interested in women as well as each other. like, just a thought to consider;

the finn/rose kiss was her kissing him, not him kissing her, and like it could either go somewhere or it might not, but if it turns out that he likes her and they become canon and stormpilot doesn’t happen.... there’s nothing inherently horrible in finn liking rose who is a nice girl who went through a lot of shit and has all the reasons in the world to like him and tbh I find it really gross that I’ve read around ‘ew omg he kissed a girl how horrible’. I mean, back when TFA came out we were all rejoicing that we had a nice diverse ship and we were all having fun and sorry to break it to you but finn/rose is also a *diverse* ship so it’d be still fairly progressive to have it canon in a mainstream scifi movie. but now since finn kissed the wrong diversity it’s... a downgrade? like, you do realized how it sounds?

anyway, if finn/rose doesn’t go anywhere, the next person in line realistically to be his love interest (if he does have one by the end) is poe, not rey (who, as much as people around here like to deny, might have been set up to have a meaningful story with *ben solo* who is, sorry to say, not the horrible irredeemable villain a lot of people decided he is, and if you still think he is just go watch the OT and realize that the entire point of it was redeeming darth vader ie someone who did a lot worse than kylo but of course we all forget that SW is a franchise about redemption, huh?), and those two spent the entire movie worrying about each other, staying in contact if they were apart, let’s not go over the ‘finn is naked and wet’ part or finn wearing poe’s clothes for the entire thing or poe coming fully into his future-general self by ordering finn to retreat therefore saving his life rather than send him to sacrifice himself at all costs to take out that cannon (while most people who went after the cannon in the beginning died, including rose’s sister), which doesn’t seem to me like *nothing*. like, we had a lot of stormpilot interactions in this movie considering what they needed to do with it;

now, while it’s probably not likely that it might happen forreal or overtly (it’s still disney guys) saying that, considering all of the above, what I’m seeing was a movie that did both of them justice and didn’t sideline them or their relationship while also dealing with another ten storylines at once and if the point that makes everyone think they’ve been butchered was that they didn’t lock lips you know how it sounds like? like whatever these two characters do or stand up for it’s worthless unless they make out, or unless they’re **gay** (not even bi, gay), and therefore you’re basically reducing them to their PERCEIVED sexuality. ie they’re worth nothing if they aren’t the sexuality the fandom wants them to be, which sorry but a) it’s bullshit, b) it’s tokenism, c) it’s ASSUMING SOMEONE’S PERSONALITY ENDS AT THEIR SEXUALITY AND THEIR ACTIONS ONLY MATTER IN LIGHT OF THEIR SEXUALITY.

like, we have two main characters in the new trio who were given extensive screentime and storylines that brought them forward from the previous movie and gave them character evolution and development and brought them to a narratively better place and made them better people (never mind that if they get together in IX it’d be way healthier than if they had in this movie)........ and that somehow doesn’t matter because we didn’t get a confirmation that they would lock lips or that they prefer to bang men and actually one of them being kissed by a woman is seen as character assassination when in the first movie finn sure af wasn’t going around stating his sexual preferences if he even figured out any?

I mean, I’d like to think we’re watching these movies also for the plot and if poe and finn have to be lgbt rep other than minority rep maybe it’d be nice if they also had a personality to go with it, and possibly realistic too because people without flaws aren’t realistic and sure af the OT trio and prequel trio weren’t flawless people actually all the contrary, and this movie did nothing wrong in establishing it. but hey, seems like we only care about it if they kiss. does it sound woke to you? because to me, it doesn’t.

tldr: idk how this movie butchered either of them or did them wrong or ruined them (all the contrary), but if all the criticism’s point is OMG THEY AREN’T GAY AND THEY DIDN’T KISS then we don’t want well-written characters, we just want the ship. and honestly, making it everything about the ship while throwing everyone else under the bus (rose first and foremost) is hardly, like, progressive or anything, but whatever you like.

[sevenkookiejars]

"We're in an exam study group and I just send you my nudes by accident oops" Minjoon

Pairing: MinJoon (Jimin x Namjoon)Prompt: “We’re in an exam study group and I just send you my nudes by accident oops” AU Rating: PGWord Count: 2,447A/N: *whispers* Minjoon is so precious ^~^ thank you anon for requesting and sorry I took forever with this (I hope you still get to read this)!! (P.S. Jimin’s doing the swearing on my behalf bc I swear that I don’t really swear at all irl – pun unintended) Enjoy!

Jimin’s phone vibrates once in his lap. He ignores it, working on the math problem he has in front of it. It vibrates again, then a series of vibrations start. Jimin curses under his breath, dropping his pen down to pick up his phone instead. 

There’s a flood of kakaotalk messages from Taehyung. 

[4:32PM TaeTae]im bored

chimchim

talk to me :( 

[4:33PM TaeTae] i hate math

save me

chimmm

why you ignoring me

chimmmmmmmmmmmmm

Jimin looks up and shoots a glare at Taehyung who’s sitting diagonally across from him at the table. Taehyung’s face lights up with a triumphant smile. 

[4:35PM Jimin]I’m trying to do my math problems, stop trying to distract me

Jabbing the home button, Jimin picks up his pen and goes back to staring at the same question that he’s been stuck on for nearly 20 minutes. There’s a reason Jimin’s here, stuck in study group past 4pm on a Friday afternoon rather than practicing his dance moves in the studio. 

Whoever deigned it necessary for a music student like him to take math in university should rethink their lives. How the hell is math even remotely needed in his degree? Something about holistic education and well-roundedness or some shitty excuse is what the deans will say but that’s honestly a ton of bullshit. Bullshit that has people like Jimin suffering because his midterms came back with an ugly 30/100 on the top and a “see me” post-it note tagged on the side. Taehyung had the nerve to laugh at him when he barely scraped a 33/100 on his. 

So here they are, stuck in a study group that’s supposed to coach them into passing finals. Jimin’s only here because the fear of having to retake the module and suffer another semester of math is real. 

His phone starts vibrating again. Jimin tsks under his breath, trying his best to ignore it, which is nearly impossible when his phone is basically wiggling its way dangerously close to his crotch. Stupid Taehyung and his non-existent attention span. Resigned, Jimin sighs and picks up his phone again. 

[4:37PM TaeTae]im still bored 

dont be mean chim

stop ignoring em

me*chimmmm lets go for tonkatsu later

i feel like treating myself after this torture

[4:38PM TaeTae]yah i know you can feel your phone 

if you keep ignoring me im gonna tell namjoon hyung you have the biggest crush on him 

i swear 

Jimin sucks in a breath. Dammit why did he ever let it out to Taehyung about Namjoon? He should have known that Taehyung would use it to blackmail him someday. 

Not that intoxicated Jimin had cared a week ago when he, in Taehyung’s words, “wailed for a solid hour about Namjoon hyung’s beautiful gaze and lips and body and everything”. And no, Jimin is still adamant that he couldn’t have been as pathetic as what Taehyung makes him out to be. It’s just a tiny crush okay, Jimin can appreciate good aesthetics and that’s not his fault.

[4:40PM Jimin] You wouldn’t actually do that

[4:40PM TaeTae] you talking to me ~\(≧▽≦)/~

so tonkatsu?? 

and if you ignore me i will 

[4:41PM Jimin] Whatever, Namjoon hyung won’t believe anything you say 

Do your work. I’m going to mute kakaotalk.

Satisfied, Jimin does exactly that. Taehyung can’t disturb him now and he can have the last 20 minutes of study group for math practice. Extra exam preparation questions that he has to hand in on Monday and still has no idea how to do. Jimin suddenly feels the urgency in his bones. 

Inherently, Jimin is someone who hates relying on others for help. It makes him feel somewhat worthless, inadequate in a way that leaves an unsettling feeling swirling in his gut. Which is why he’s debating hard whether or not to actually bring up his questions to their study group mentor now. 

The choice should be pretty obvious, because putting his pride down now is better than taking the walk of shame to the front of his tutorial class to meet the professor. It should be obvious, except that Namjoon is their study group mentor. Yeah, the very Namjoon that Jimin has a tiny crush on. 

Jimin bites his lip. It shouldn’t be a big deal really. Namjoon doesn’t even know he has a crush for god’s sake. Besides, Jimin’s pretty sure at least a fifth of the juniors in school have some sort of a crush on Namjoon. Namjoon who is tall, charming, smart and really nice and helpful to all juniors. Jimin probably needs his fingers and toes (maybe Taehyung’s too) to count the number of times he’s overheard whispered conversation and soft squeals over senior Kim Namjoon. 

But that said, the math problems are still leering at him. Forget about having any choice, Jimin doesn’t want to die of shame on Monday submitting a blank paper. Sighing, Jimin picks up his phone, turning on the camera app to take pictures of the questions he’s been stuck at. 

Namjoon has this system in study group, where they can send him pictures over WhatsApp of the questions they need help with so that he can look over the questions while helping the previous student. It’s somewhat like his own queue system that he’s implemented and it works. And yeah, it’s specifically WhatsApp, not KakaoTalk. Taehyung said and Jimin quotes “that Namjoon hyung is way too English-ified”. As if that really explains why Namjoon prefers an American chat app over a Korean one. 

Jimin opens Whatsapp and opens a fresh chat with Namjoon. His phone vibrates, banner on the top of his screen displaying WhatsApp notifications from none other than Taehyung. The first one reads “you really muted!!!!” and the second announces an attached photo. 

Rolling his eyes, Jimin decides to quickly attach the two photos of questions that he has to ask Namjoon before attending to Taehyung’s messages. He absently clicks the last two photos in his gallery and clicks send. 

Okay, now to entertain Taehyung while he waits for his turn with Namjoon. He’s about to exit the chat with Namjoon when something catches his attention. The first photo sent doesn’t have a plain white background. It’s definitely not his question paper. Jimin blinks, scrolling up so that the whole photo comes into view. 

“Fuck.” The girl sitting beside him shifts her gaze to glare at him but Jimin barely notices. “Fuck no no no, please don’t send. Oh god, please don’t." 

Jimin fumbles with his phone. The two grey ticks appear. Jimin collapses back in his seat with a small whimper. Opposite, Taehyung glances up in mild concern. 

This can’t be real. Maybe it’s just a bad dream, yeah? Maybe he’s getting so exhausted from math that he’s starting to hallucinate. It can’t be real, right? Jimin nearly jumps in his seat when his phone vibrates again in his hands. A banner notification from Taehyung that says ”what’s wrong chim“ and then ”you scaring me“. 

He’s still in the chat with Namjoon. Jimin swallows, throat dry. He blinks hard once, twice. The grey ticks are still there, mocking. Jimin wants to cry.

This is worse than any walk of shame to see his professor. Because right above his picture of his math problem is one of Jimin sitting in a tub, clothes trail on the bathroom floor as he hugs an empty soju bottle. Naked and drunk stupid. And if that isn’t bad enough, it’s most definitely Taehyung’s Snapchat capture because there’s a text banner that Taehyung’s kindly covered his exposed crotch with that reads "AWW LOVERBOY CRYING OVER JOONIE HYUNG”. Jimin doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be thankful for Taehyung salvaging the last bit of his dignity. 

Of course Jimin is that dumbass that never switched off the function on WhatsApp that automatically downloads media into his phone. Taehyung had told him once to switch it because “it downloads useless photos and takes up space”, to which Jimin had shrugged and muttered something about having 256GB to spare. 

And it’s here to bite him in the ass now. Taehyung was probably sending him proof of blackmail material he has of Jimin’s crush on Namjoon, which Jimin knows Taehyung will never actually use to blackmail him. Except he just had to send it before Jimin got about to sending his math questions and obviously Jimin is the idiot who doesn’t check what he’s sending and just clicks the latest pictures. 

The rest is history. History that has Jimin freaking out all over again. Taehyung’s flooding him with messages now, to which Jimin replies with a simple “fuck you” because he can’t take all the blame for his battered pride. 

Jimin’s back in his chat with Namjoon, math now forgotten, and still internally panicking when it happens. The grey ticks turn blue. It’s like everything comes to a standstill and Jimin stops breathing. Namjoon read the messages. Namjoon fucking saw the pictures. 

It’s like a slap of cold water to his face and Jimin sucks in a sharp breath. He needs to get out of here. Screw study group, he’ll ask for a transfer or just stop attending. He can’t face Namjoon, not now, not ever.

With shaking hands, Jimin grabs his bag, haphazardly stuffing his homework and stationery in. 

“Chim,” Taehyung hisses from across the table. Jimin ignores him. He doesn’t have enough focus outside of his panic to actually care. “Jimin, what’s happening?" 

Jimin zips his bag up and stands, setting his eyes on the door. He can feel a few curious stares and from the corner of his eye, he sees Taehyung standing to follow him. 

With his head down, Jimin makes a beeline for the door, making sure to shut it softly behind him so as not to make a scene. Hurrying down the corridor, Jimin feels dread curling like bile in his throat. 

As he rounds the corner, he hears hurried footsteps behind him. It’s probably Taehyung wanting to know what happened. Jimin doesn’t really want to talk about it. The magnitude of the whole situation is catching up with him and all he wants to do is curl up in a corner and drown in self pity. 

The footsteps close in, coming to a halt behind him. "Jimin-ssi." 

It isn’t Taehyung. Jimin’s breath hitches. Namjoon hyung. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder and Jimin turns out of reflex. Their gazes meet and Jimin immediately drops his, shuffling a small step backwards. Namjoon drops his hand to his side. 

The corridor is empty. Jimin’s partly glad that no one’s going to witness his death by shame. He doesn’t dare look up at Namjoon. 

The silence drags a moment too long and Jimin’s unconsciously starting to shift his weight from feet to feet when Namjoon sighs. Wordlessly, he lifts his phone, tilting it for Jimin to look at. 

Jimin chews on his bottom lip hard. Drunk Jimin stares back at him hazy and unabashed. Jimin kind of wants to fling the phone across the hall. He would do it, except it’s Namjoon’s. 

"What’s this?” Namjoon says finally. 

Jimin pulls at the hem of his shirt, scrunching it up and then letting it go. “I… I sort of sent you my nude by accident?” Internally, he winces at his choice of words. “Oops?” He adds, before his brain catches up and goddammit Park Jimin why can’t you play it off like it isn’t a big deal because it really isn’t. 

It shouldn’t be at least.

“Uhm,” Namjoon replies. “Okay.” He lowers the phone slowly. “I… the caption…” Namjoon’s voice trails off.

Jimin closes his eyes. Of course. Why did he expect? Taehyung and his stupid caption. Jimin contemplates lying and pretending that “Joonie hyung” isn’t the one standing right before him. There’s probably a dozen and one people who have the nickname “Joonie”, right? But Jimin is horrible at lying and it always tugs at his conscience. 

He takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” Jimin starts. “I mean, I was really going to send you my math questions. But Taehyung wanted to blackmail me and I didn’t turn off that auto download and it just sent and like, I had a crush on you since forever but half the school does too and you can’t blame be for appreciating good aesthetics but I don’t even know if you like girls or guys, I’m sorry I’m-”

Jimin breaks off when he feels fingers beneath his chin. He freezes. 

“You’re rambling,” Namjoon says mildly. He pushes gently, tilting Jimin’s face up, gaze searching. “Crush on me, huh?” Namjoon’s tone is light, teasing almost. He chuckles softly.

Jimin feels his face heat and he bristles. “I’m sorry I’m such a loser who doesn’t know how to ask his brain and heart to shut the fuck up about you,” he snaps. Dammit that came out all wrong. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap-”

“You’re apologizing a whole lot,” Namjoon says, a dimpled smile spreading. “Sorr- I mean…” Jimin wants to facepalm himself. 

Namjoon laughs, the sound of it making Jimin’s stomach flip. “Well,” Namjoon shrugs, “If you’re really sorry about it, you could treat me to coffee now.”

Jimin stares dumbly. Coffee, what?

Namjoon awkwardly rubs the nape of his neck. “I mean, if you’re free that is. I haven’t managed to answer your math questions after all, and study group session’s over.”

Right. The math questions, Jimin almost forgot. “Of course, I’ll buy you coffee, Namjoon-ssi." 

Namjoon scrunches his nose. "Just hyung will do,” he says, and Jimin feels something warm settle in the pit of his stomach. “Or Joonie hyung if you want,” Namjoon adds, shooting him a grin. “I don’t mind.”

“Please don’t remind me,” Jimin groans. “And can you please delete that photo and pretend you never saw it?” Namjoon shakes his head. Jimin feels himself deflate a little. “Why, hyung? Do you want it for blackmail too?”

“No, of course not!” Namjoon feigns an offended look. “What do you take me for? I just can appreciate good aesthetics.” Then before Jimin can register those words and respond, Namjoon places a hand on the small of Jimin’s back to steer him in the direction of the campus exit. “Come on, it’s a date!”

(They end up talking for hours over coffee and forgetting about tutoring. Jimin later insists that circumstances forced him to visit Namjoon’s apartment on a Saturday to do math while having takeouts, which somehow dragged on into movie night and Jimin crashing at Namjoon’s place. 

The rest is history. History that has Jimin calling Namjoon his boyfriend. And no, Taehyung gets zero credit because Jimin’s going to take all of it for himself.)

A/N: Thank you for reading this fic that got pretty long! I’ve never written Minjoon ever so I hope this is at least somewhat good (and cute maybe because it’s supposed to be fluff kinda). Also thank you to those of you who read my previous mini fics (and those who leave comments in your tags, they really make my day!)

Send me a prompt and a bangtan pairing, I’ll write you a short fic ♡

[cynicaldesire]

Idiot Punk - Persona 5 - Ryuji/Makoto

Ryuji stepped out into the Shibuya Station Square and looked around. Miss Student Council President had asked for him directly, and only him, but he had forgotten the calling cards at home. The square bustled with strangers and tourists, a dark-haired, heavy-set foreigner woman dodged past him with an apologetic smile on the arm of a redheaded dude. Maybe he should dye his hair red next.

“Sakamoto-kun!” Makoto startled him, standing by the small sitting area off to the side.

Ryuji smirked and jogged over to her. “No need for all that, Makoto. We’re part of the Phantom Thieves now, we got a special bond. Just Ryuji is fine.”

A smirk edges one corner of her lips up, mirth playing in her eyes. “Not so loud!”

Ryuji grinned a little brighter. She motioned toward Central Street and began to lead him toward their target.

“Yusuke-k-. Ahem. Yusuke provided me with his sketch of the vehicle’s license plate that kidnapped me. My plan is to place a calling card in or on that vehicle and at various places around the area.” She spoke over her shoulder, professional and focused on her duty.

Ryuji followed after her, dodging past a few oblivious or downright rude strangers as he listened. “Okay, sounds good. Why just the two of us, though?”

She paused at the Shibuya Crossing. She adjusted her grip on her bag. “I believe you more capable of taking care of yourself than the others. And Akira-san has his probation to worry about.”

Ryuji’s brow lifted. She believed in him. Makoto Niijima, the Student Council President, his senpai, a better strategist and thinker than even Akira, whose Persona came in the form of a sick motorcycle, believed in him, a dumb punk good at track. Well, before Kamoshida screwed things up for him, anyway.

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck, unable to look at his senpai’s shoulder. “Aw, shucks, senpai.”

“Though, I will need you to remove your clothes.”

The crossing lights changed and forced the Shujin students into a throng of people moving across the street. Ryuji attempted to keep up, her words sinking in, rattling around, and sending blood to all the wrong places.

He hadn’t really pegged her as that type, especially with everything happening with Kaneshiro, and especially in their current situation. But he couldn’t deny his attraction to her, beautiful and smart and badass and amazing. Sure he preferred a little more meat on his girls, but Makoto didn’t leave him wanting.

She looked back to check on him once they had crossed the street and headed for Kaneshiro’s domain. She reached a hand out toward him to rescue him from the herd of people headed to other areas. He swallowed, realizing suddenly the difference in their heights.

“Sakamoto-kun, is something the matter?” Her brow furrowed.

Still the honorifics. Maybe they didn’t have a special bond. And besides, she didn’t know? She really gonna make him say? He looked around and leaned down to whisper to her. “Senpai, you really need me to get naked?”

Her whole body grew a few centimeters, shoulders and back stiffening, as a redness crept onto her cheeks. “No! Where did you get such a ridiculous notion?”

Now he’s the pervert, offending the pure Student Council President. Just another idiot punk. She believes he can take care of himself, because she’d probably bail at the first sign of trouble. And if nothing else, she can just say he coerced her, who’d believe him anyway?

He feels the anger, the rage of his abusive father, and mutes it as best he can. “Sorry, Niijima-senpai.” The words are spat at her as he returns to the slouched stance that makes him comfortable, knees apart, eyes focused somewhere else, hands in his pockets. “What did you want me to do?”

He felt her eyes on him, felt something from her that he can’t make sense of. Must be some kind of side effect of the Metaverse? They have Personas and can change people’s hearts, what if they have a kind of radar for people’s emotions as well?

Makoto turned her head slightly and tapped at her bag. “I have a regulation school uniform in my bag. I rented it from a shop nearby. We’ll need it to make you look like a regular Shujin academy student. The more you blend in to the patrons here, the easier it will be. It is rather unfortunate about your hair, not easily hidden.”

So that’s why she wanted his clothes. His eyes fell. “Yeah, sorry about that. Where do you want me to change?”

She gestured to a nearby diner. “Head in there and use their restroom. I will order us some tea while you change.”

He nodded silently. They enter and find a booth. A green tea for her and coffee for him. Obviously finding the pairing odd, the waitress gave them an odd look. A punk and a dignified girl at the same table together? Something seemed awry.

The frustration welled again, echoes of his father reminded him how much of a worthless punk he is. Idiot punk. He knows what he looks like, what his actions make people think of him. He tried so hard, but there’s not a damn thing he can do. Just a punk kid with bad posture, bad grades, and bad hair.

Their beverages ordered, he ruffled his blonde hair, grabbed the bag from Makoto, and headed toward the restroom. She whisper-yelled something to him as he stalks off, but he’s already gone. He had to get away, lest the shithead take over.

The uniform has everything, even the regulation shoes. She must’ve noticed his size in their interactions. But the shirt feels tight and he has no regulation shirt of his own, so he keeps it on. The pants are a bit loose, she must not have accounted for his training, so he wears his own, a little too short but the right waist size, and uses the regulation belt instead of his suspenders. He stuffs all of his personal clothes into the bag and heads out of the bathroom.

He returned to a steaming cup of black coffee.

Makoto glanced to him, staring at a map or something. “The waitress will return with cream in a moment. She had her hands fu-“ Her eyes widen at him.

The sudden drop in her sentence startled him. He leaned forward. “Senpai? You okay?” Probably just shocked to see him in the regulation uniform, something completely out of character for him.

A blush graced her cheeks, pinker this time, her eyes dropped abruptly to a map of Central Street. “Apologies, Sakamoto-kun. I’m fine. We should go over the plan.”

Odd. She fidgets a bit, something he isn’t sure he’s ever seen her do. Whatever. “Yeah, ‘course.”

He felt something else emanating from her that he can’t quite place. He should ask Morgana about it later. He grabbed a few sugars from the table and starts to shake them.

She glanced at the movement instinctively. “I thought it might be better for us to split up to cover more ground quickly. I’ll leave the car to you while I begin posting the Calling Card here.” She pointed to a building on the map before turning it around under her finger to show Ryuji.

The blonde looked over the map, ripping open the sugars to pour them into his coffee. “Is that where the car is?”

Makoto’s brow furrowed and she tilted her head. “The car should be somewhere around here.” She gently circled her finger at another location somewhere clear across the map. “It picked me up at the Protein Lovers Gym before, which is also where Akira-san and I were approached to be part of the operation. So I can only assume the vehicle should be around there.”

Ryuji tilted his head at the map as well. He looked to where she pointed earlier and to the probable location of the car. With the danger inherent in their activity, the idea of leaving Makoto alone unsettled him. Deeply. He picked up his spoon and to stir the sugar dumped into his coffee.

“We should probably stick closer together on this, senpai. Especially since we don’t know where the car is.” He finished stirring and lifted to spoon out to plunge it into his mouth. Still hot, he growled a bit as it almost burned his tongue.

The response is immediate. Ryuji felt another shift in mood, a darker shift. She withdrew her finger from the map to glare at it. The spoon rested on the table while he waits for his cream.

“I can take care of myself, Sakamoto-kun.” Her voice is quiet, almost threatening.

But he understands. Her Persona came to her, born out of a frustration and a disbelief in everyone calling her useless. “I know, senpai, I’m not saying you can’t.”

Her eyes stay on the table. “Then why are you disagreeing with me?”

A slow breath for him. He had so many of these arguments with his father, starting out innocently enough, though they typically ended with his mother caring for him in the bathroom. “I’m not disagreeing with you, I just… I’d feel better if I knew I could help you if something happens.”

Her eyes close, shoulders lift. “I’m not useless, Ryuji! I don’t need your help!”

Ryuji recognized the anger, the frustration. He’s felt them plenty of times himself, dealing with shitty adults telling him how he won’t amount to anything or he’s a no-good punk.

He leaned forward, eyes on his coffee, elbows on the table, and rested his head on his hand. “Guess even Student Council Presidents feel insecure like us punks.”

Her head lifted with a small noise, the feeling at the table shifting again. Movement caught his eye, Makoto tucking a bit of hair behind her ear, finger-combing the bit behind a braided headband. He never really noticed the braided headband that held her hair back before, a beautiful and subtle crown. That prevented the need for her to tuck hair behind her ear. He felt a smile tug at half his lips.

He gestured with his free hand. “It’s not that I don’t have faith in you, senpai- I’ve seen just how badass you are as Queen and all – It’d just make me feel better for both of us to keep eyes on each other. I don’t want you to get kidnapped again. Because last time we were right on your tail, but if it happens when it’s just the two of us and I don’t know what’s happened… Somethin’ worse could happen to you. I don’t know if I could live with that.”

A small smile curled her lips. Her arms appeared from under the table to wrap around her tea. “I see. Thank you, Sakamoto-kun. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

The warmth in her voice caught him off guard. He sat up and looked to his steaming coffee. “S’ok. Not anything I haven’t dealt with before.”

Another barely perceptible shift in her emotions.

“Sorry about the wait.” The waitress startled both of them, bringing another cup and a few small pitchers of cream. Ryuji smiled and thanked her as she hurried off to help other patrons.

“Doesn’t it anger you, Sakamoto-kun?” Her eyes hadn’t left her tea.

Ryuji poured a bit of cream into his coffee and got to stirring. “What?”

She turned the cup in her fingers. “That adults… underestimate you. They treat you no better than they treat Akira-san. And you don’t even have a criminal record.”

That had to be the shift. Ryuji shrugged. “It pisses me off plenty, senpai, which is why I’m still in the hole I’m in. But there ain’t nothing I can do to get out of it. ‘Cept being a Phantom Thief. Because at least I’ll know the good I can do and the… potential I got. So let other people think what they want, you know? I know me.”

The cup lifted to her lips. “You are not only good at being a Phantom Thief.”

Another kind statement. He rarely trusted those for too long. “You’re bein’ awful nice to me, senpai. I would still prefer you stick close by in case somethin’ bad-“

A gasp steals the rest of his protest. She shook her head. “No! I’m not trying to- I-…” Her lips pressed together, drawing Ryuji’s attention to the precisely painted, pink buds. Something tugs in his chest. “I remember the track team when you were on it, before Kamoshida destroyed it. You… You were by far the best on the team. They were only able to advance as far as they did because of you.”

Praise has been few and far between for him, especially regarding his performance on the track team. And coming from the Student Council President? She’s just buttering him up, for sure. “You know what? Fine. I’ll go take care of the Calling Card for this asshole’s car.” Might as well get started now. He reached for his wallet and thumbed through his yen for the cost of the coffee. “Then I’ll wallpaper this shitty district with it and head home. You don’t have to deal with me anymore if you don’t want to.” He slammed the cost of the coffee down and grabbed the bag beside him.

It’s her bag, the one she brought the clothes in. He growled, recognizing the anger of his father, but he can’t quell it now. He knew they didn’t fit, that they make for an odd friendship. But that’s no reason to mock him, to pretend to like him. Just get the work done and go home and return the uniform to her tomorrow.

Makoto’s brow lowered, glaring up at him. Another shift in mood. The hell does he care? “Gimme my bag, senpai.”

“Why are you upset, Sakamoto-kun?” Defiant.

He clicked his cheeks. “It’s got the Calling Cards in it. I can’t do what you want me to do without it.” He gestured for it. “So givit here and let’s get this over with.”

She sighed and grabbed his arm. He barely registered the action before she pulled him into the seat beside her. “Firstly, you haven’t heard the entirety of my plan. Secondly, I was being honest with you before, your skills on the track team are impressive. And-“

He waited impatiently for the “Thirdly”, but she hesitated. He rolled his eyes. “Does it really matter?”

She shifted slightly beside him, giving them both more space in the booth. “Of course it does. You have just as much to offer as I do, Sakamoto-kun.”

He shook his head. “You tryin’ to flatter me has nothing to do with the plan. What more is there to the plan besides delivering the Card and papering the rest? You got your half, I’ll do mine until I run out, then we go home.”

She looked to the map of the area. “I suppose that is all to the plan, isn’t it.” She sounded almost disappointed.

“So gimme the cards and I’ll handle it.” The frustration boiled just below his tipping point, causing his good leg to bounce under the table, occasionally hitting the support and causing the mugs to shake a bit.

“I’ll need your clothing back before tomorrow. I need to return them to the uniform rental.” She sounded almost apologetic.

His eyes fell to the too-tight white polo with the Shujin crest. Her arms remained still wrapped around his. The clinking of the mugs stopped. “So you want me to get it done quick, use those track skills. I got it.”

Brown hair swayed at his upper arm, the difference in their height and the short length of his sleeve just enough that her hair tickled. He’s a red-blooded teenager and Makoto is a shapely, amazing girl. As nerves started to fray, his leg bounced again.

“Ryuji-san, I-“

Blood rushed to his cheeks. He tries to avoid thinking of where else it rushed to.

She unraveled herself from his arm, her deep brown eyes, almost red, peeked up at him through her eyelashes. She lifted a hand to fingercomb her hair. The mood shifted again. “I-“ His brow lifts. “I, ah, I’m sorry I misjudged your size.”

His brow collapsed, eyes shifted from the blushing President to his tight polo. It sounded as if she planned to confess. He rubbed the back of his hair. “I think I’ll live. A little uncomfortably, but it’s okay.”

For her part, a smile tugged briefly at her lips. She glanced to him again. “Th-That’s part of why I want the uniform back. I do not wish to put you through too much discomfort.” He rolled his eyes slightly, disappointment crept through his body. The mugs started to clatter again. “I will accompany you on our mission, Ryuji-san.”

He blinked back to her. “Y-You will?”

She nodded. “It would certainly be foolish to attempt to confront them on my own. I want to believe I can handle myself, but… there is evidence to suggest I may not be able to. There is certainly strength in numbers. And… It might look more strange for us to be wandering around the area on our own. But if we travel together, we could just be a pair on a date.”

A grin crept onto Ryuji’s face. “What a first date, huh? Threatening a mafia boss so that we can steal his heart and save kids from blackmail?”

A melodic giggle greeted his left ear. He grinned to his companion. Another mood shift. “You’re impressive, Ryuji-san.”

His brow lifted. “Me?” Panic sorted through his previous statements. “’Cause I’m a huge dumbass?”

Hesitation stayed her voice. Her eyes fell to her tea. And he swore he saw a gentle pink on her cheeks. “You’re so earnest and dedicated. And manage to find humor in the darkest of situations.”

A blush found his ears. He lifted his eyes, hoping to distract himself. He hadn’t received compliments from someone outside of his mother for some time. “Oh, uh… Thanks.”

Makoto reached for her tea. “You didn’t touch your coffee, Ryuji-san.”

He blinked at it. He had forgotten. “I don’t like coffee anyway.”

She sipped her tea. “Then why order it?”

He shrugged. “Akira lives at a café with his guardian. The owner serves a lot of coffee. I keep thinkin’ I’ll like it, but it’s so bitter. Kinda tastes like… boiled beans.”

She giggled again. “That’s effectively what it is.” She returned her tea to the saucer and retrieved the map from the table. “We should probably get going though.”

Ryuji pulled out his wallet to dig through his yen. “How much was the tea, again?”

A soft hand cupped his. He almost jumped at the contact. “Sakamoto-kun, that’s quite all right. I can pay for myself.”

Ryuji remembered just how often someone outside of his mother touched him gently. Not even Ann touched him except to fight. But it was friendly. Part of him appreciated her aggressive nature, someone to remind him that not every physical contact had to be like his father. Her fights with him sometimes brought back memories, but he had gotten better at controlling the anxiety that came with them.

Makoto took her hand from his and started to fish around for the yen for her tea. He set his jaw. “I know you can, but I’m supposed to be your date, right? I can cover your tea, Queen.”

Before she could protest, he dropped another group of yen on the table. “Sakamoto-kun!” He moved to stand from the booth, ignoring her protest.

“Come on, Miss President, we got work to do.” He grabbed her bag, filled with his clothes, and waited for her to extricate herself from the booth.

Her lips pursed again, defiance in her eyes, but she grabbed his bag and slid from the booth. She leaned down to grab a few yen coins. “The cost of the tea was cheaper, Sakamoto-kun.”

He shoved the spare change in his pocket. At least she let him pay at all. Instinctively, he dropped a hand to the small of her back to lead her from the diner, nodding to the waitstaff on their way out.

A comfortable rhythm grew between them as they wandered through the streets looking for Kaneshiro’s car. Ryuji stole glances at Makoto, watching her intense gaze searching surreptitiously for their target. Smart, pretty, shapely, dedicated. She had so much going for her. No wonder they kept getting such curious looks. Maybe splitting up had been the better idea.

Bruises flashed on the wrist holding his bag to her shoulder. She had been effectively kidnapped and manhandled barely a week prior. The bruises had already healed to a similar yellow to her skintone, but Ryuji remembered. That had been his life for a while.

“How are you recovering, by the way?” The silence hadn’t been awkward, per se, but he felt a need to fill the it anyway.

The intensity in her face cracked. She looked up to him. When had he started to walk without the slouch? “Recovering?”

He motioned to her wrist. “You still have the ghost of bruises here. Figured you might have other ones, too. Are they doing okay?”

She offered him a smile that he immediately recognized, a smile he wore plenty of times while the bruises lay hidden under his long sleeves in July. Another mood shift. “They’re doing fine, Sakamoto-kun.”

But he knew the truth. He looked ahead, scanning the area again. “If you ever get hurt like that again, because of Shadows or somethin’, use some ice after a couple days to help it heal faster.”

She adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sakamoto-kun, thank you.” She already knew that, her acceptance meant to be a kindness. He knew that, but it sounded more like a placation. “Where did you learn something like that?”

If only he had spotted the car. “Personal experience.” He didn’t want the memories that came with the explanation.

She smiled slightly, her eyes still scanning as well. “You must’ve had a few mishaps during your training. But you learned how to take better care of yourself. That must be why you’ve gotten so muscular.”

Heat rushed to his cheeks. That sounded suspiciously like flirting. His dark memories melted back into the closet he kept them in. “Why, Miss President, I didn’t know you were looking.”

He caught a darker pink to her cheeks. “Th-The shirt, Sakamoto-kun! It’s just a bit too small, that’s all!”

Ryuji dropped his head to look at the shirt. The buttons at the neckline had been left open, but the opening pulled, stretched to its limit. He had felt a tad uncomfortable at the sleeves, the openings tight around his biceps. He had kept the shirt untucked, a simple freedom for not being in school, but the shirt held tight to the slight definition of his abdomen. He paid it little mind, figuring the offending clothing only covered him for a few hours while they handled the Calling Card.

It only demonstrated his point. He hadn’t seen all those details before she mentioned it. He smirked. Maybe she told the truth, maybe she honestly felt impressed by him. Maybe she honestly believed in him.

A good-for-nothing punk with a shitty past and anger issues. He pressed his lips together.

“Oh! There it is!” Her voice dropped to a whisper.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him into an alcove that housed a staircase leading to the arcade. Whatever her intentions, he fumbled a bit on his feet, catching himself on the wall. He looked down to the Student Council President, caged by his body, her eyes focused more on the vehicle up the street than his reddening cheeks.

“It looks fairly well-guarded right now. Do you suppose the men surrounding it will wander away for any reason?” She leaned down to look past his arm.

Ryuji shook his head. “What?” He missed her words, only recognized the questioning tone.

Makoto looked back to him, straightened up, and furrowed her brow. The height difference made her seem smaller, easier to succumb to his will. “The Calling Card. I don’t want you getting caught either, Sakamoto-kun.” Her eyes widened. “Oh!” His heart stuttered; did she finally notice their position? She started to dig around in his bag on her shoulder. “The Calling Card! Where-“

Whatever moment Ryuji had had, he had alone. As it passed, eaten by Makoto’s dedication to her duty, the blonde pulled away from the wall. He took a slow breath and gestured at her hands. “Here, cut it out. I got it.”

She pulled his bag forward to provide him easier access. What an idiot he had to be to think he had any kind of chance with her. After a bit of rummaging, he produced the specialty Calling Card for Kaneshiro. Makoto tilted her head in an effort to read it. He turned it around for her.

“Checking my work, Miss President?” He strove for playful, but felt a bit offended. Or he had yet to recover from feeling like an idiot for getting distracted at their intimate positioning.

She shook her head. “I told you what to say, but I never got the chance to see it.” She lifted a hand toward it. He shifted it slightly for her to take. Instead, she smiled up to him. “You did it perfectly, Sakamoto-kun. I just hope I could see the look on his face when he reads it.”

Ryuji forced a chuckle. Easier just to pretend it never happened. Because technically, it didn’t. “I’m more looking forward to kicking his ass in the Metaverse.”

Makoto narrowed her eyes, lifted a determined fist. “That’s right.” She leaned around him again. “Ah, the car appears to be unguarded for now. You should get going, Sakamoto-kun.”

He spun around. Sure enough, there appeared to be no one surrounding the car. He turned back to her, nervous energy tapping his foot. “You stay right here, okay? If things go south, go into the arcade and wait for me.”

Makoto’s brow furrowed for a moment, defiance flashing in her eyes. It faded quickly into a soft smile. “Of course, Ryuji-san.” As he turned away, she grabbed his arm. “Wait.”

He turned back around, heat returning to his cheeks. A gallant knight off to perform a duty for his queen found himself rewarded with a kiss for good luck. Did she intend to give him one? He could only hope.

She tapped her bag. “It should be easier to move around without this. I’ll keep an eye on it.”

Disappointment slumped his shoulders. He removed the bag and handed it over. She nodded to him. “Good luck, Ryuji-san.”

He sighed gently and headed for the car. He did his best to appear as if he simply walked by while he glanced into the darkly tinted windows. It appeared empty, including behind the driver’s seat. Where to put the Card though? Under the windshield wipers, like some kind of advertisement? No, they’d just throw it away. It would have to be inside the car, somewhere they’d have to look at it.

He tried to driver’s door. It clicked open. Panic lifted his eyes to scan the area. None of the Yakuza-looking guys seemed to be around. He slipped into the driver’s seat and sat down.

Okay, now what? Glove box? In the window? He looked at the steering wheel, his hands instinctively curled around it. He grinned slowly. He could probably just steal it, that’d get their attention. Who cared if he didn’t know how to drive?

The cops would care. They’d arrest him and he couldn’t help much from a jail cell. It would probably also complicate the Phantom Thieves. And Makoto stood nearby waiting for him. If he did nothing else, he refused to let her down.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He slid his hands down the steering wheel. The cover felt very nice.

Steering wheel cover could probably hold the corners of the Card, it’d be right there in their face when they got into the car. He nodded and got to work. His phone buzzed again.

He found the car just slightly too small to fit comfortably. He shifted it off to the side, as far up as he could, and around the entire rim. A square peg in a round hole proved to be a lot harder than he anticipate. But he found a way.

He sat back to assess his work. Movement outside the car caught his attention. Someone approached the driver’s side door. His phone buzzed. It did little to distract him from the panic forcing pile into his throat.

“Excuse me, sir?” Makoto’s voice drifted muffled into the car.

Ryuji clenched his jaw; he told her to stay put.

“Hey there. Ain’t you a pretty girl. You go to Shujin Academy?” The thug lifted his glasses to get a better look at her. Ryuji gripped the steering wheel tightly, almost messing up his hard work. Though he did thank Captain Kidd that Kaneshiro hadn’t shared his blackmail photos with anyone else yet.

Makoto nodded. The blonde felt an roar of emotions from her, that weird Metaverse bleed effect. “I was hoping you could direct me to the Airsoft Shop? I can’t seem to find it anywhere.” The a stranger, she sounded normal. However, Skull could hear the cracks in his Queen’s façade.

The thug arched a brow. “The model gun store? What’s a sweet, little thing like you want with model guns?” He shifted slightly closer, drawing a growl from the blonde in the car.

Makoto simply giggled, fussing with her hair. “Thank you! My boyfriend has an affinity for them. I wanted to get him a present for his birthday, but I’m having a hard time locating it.”

Ryuji’s brow furrowed. Her boyfriend? Did she actually have one? He studied her back and noticed her hand gesturing. He focused on the movement. Oh, a distraction for him to get out of the car.

The thug smirked. “Well, isn’t your boyfriend a lucky guy. He sounds pretty dangerous, though. Maybe you should consider an alternative.” His hand went for Makoto’s shoulder.

Makoto’s giggle darkened a bit. She moved away slightly, out of the thug’s grasp, turning the thug away from the car. Ryuji looked through the window to her. She glanced in his direction and nodded her head.

“I’d prefer to see how he likes my present, first. If only I could find the shop.” She did a much better job than Ann.

Ryuji opened the car door. The noise startled the thug, forcing him to whip around. Ryuji crawled from the car, just below the windows. “The hell was that?”

Makoto panicked. Ryuji felt it. “W-What was what?” She dialed up the charm a bit too high.

Ryuji rolled into the street and closed the door with his foot. The thug rounded the car just as he rolled over again. “What the hell?”

Makoto followed close behind him. “Sa- Oh gosh, baby, are you hurt?”

The track star looked to her, confused. Baby? Hurt? Makoto’s eyes pleaded with him. He recognized that look. Play along and your father will leave.

Ryuji groaned. “Ah, shit. That hurt.” He rolled onto his back.

The thug stomped up to him. “The fuck are you doing to my car?”

Ryuji rolled his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay, I’m fine. Don’t help.” The blonde hopped up into a crouch and stood up slowly.

Makoto jogged over, anxiety obvious on her features. “My gosh, are you okay, sweetie?” Her hands touched him all over, checked his face, his arms, and boiled his blood.

A blush covered his cheeks to his ears. He looked to Makoto as she wrapped herself around his arm, pressing herself against his side. He could feel her breasts pressing against his elbow.

“This your boyfriend, sweet thing?” The thug appeared skeptical.

She giggled again. “Yeah. I guess I’ll just get him to show me to the airsoft shop. Sorry for bothering you, sir.”

She dragged Ryuji away immediately, giving the younger blonde no time to process the exchange. “Come on, sweetie, you were going to show me your favorite store.”

He lifted a hand to run through his hair as she led him away. The thug grumbled something behind him. Makoto remained glued to his arm, leading him further away toward the arcade. She paused at the arcade and pulled him inside the alcove again. She pressed him back against the wall this time, leaning out to watch the thug get into the car.

Ryuji swallowed hard. He couldn’t get the feeling of her breasts out of his mind. They were a lot softer than he had ever imagined. He had a primal desire to feel more of them, more of her, rising within him.

She straightened up and looked to him. “What the hell were you thinking, Ryuji!”

The desire drained into the background but remained hot. He furrowed his brow, frustrated. Idiot punk, that’s what she thought of him. “What the hell was I thinking? What the hell were you thinking! I told you to stay here! Something could’ve happened to you again!”

She growled. Despite her lack of height, he felt shorter than her. “You weren’t checking your phone, so I had to improvise. What would’ve happened if he had opened the car door and found you sitting there with a Calling Card? Why did you get in the car in the first place?”

He raised his hands, attempting to feel taller again. “I don’t know! I probably would’ve run. I’m pretty good at that, right? That’s why you brought me.”

Her brow furrowed, a mixture of anger and pain. “You are also out of practice! What happens if you tripped or, or, or couldn’t slip away fast enough? What if they got in the car to run you down? Then I’d be left alone…” Her voice broke and she looked down, her hair falling in curtains to shroud her face.

Ryuji lifted his brow, anger cooled as soon as her voice broke. Another shift. Concern lowered his shoulders. A story rested under that crack in her mask, one she had not shared with him yet. She cared just as much about watching him being taken as he did about something happening to her.

He rubbed his shoulder and rolled his neck. “Yeah, okay. I just… didn’t want them to think it was some kind of Hostess ad and throw it away, ya know? Thought I should put it in the car where they couldn’t miss it.”

Makoto’s shoulders lifted. A small sniffle drifted to his ears. His weight shifted, ready to step into her space to hug her, to provide the strength where she found weakness, as he had done for most of his life.

But she didn’t belong to him. They barely had a friendship.

Ryuji sighed slowly and dropped his hand onto her shoulder. “Hey, thanks for looking out for me, senpai. Without your quick thinking, who knows what would’ve happened to me?”

A lithe hand disappeared under the shroud of her hair. Probably to wipe her eyes. She lifted her head to him. “Thank you, Sakamoto-kun.”

What little comfort he provided, she seemed to strengthen. Or at least, to mask whatever feelings she had. He smiled down to her. “Of course, Makoto-senpai.”

She took a small step back and lifted her bag between them. She must’ve left them when she came to his rescue. He slid his hand off her shoulder to take it from her. “I suppose we should get to work with the Calling Cards, don’t you think?”

Ryuji’s smile brightened as he swung the bag of clothes over his shoulder. “Yeah. Let’s show these guys who they’re messing with!”

She giggled, genuinely this time, and grabbed for his bag. He felt a swell in her emotion, something positive, and laughed once. Both teenagers buzzed.

Ryuji retrieved his phone from his pocket first. Makoto fidgeted. “Mine is in my bag. Is it from the group chat?”

Ryuji nodded. Girls didn’t get pockets. “Yeah. They’re freaking out over the Calling Card and stuff. No biggie.”

She took his word for it, surprisingly, and assisted him with pulling the Calling Cards out of the bag, along with the tape and anything else they would need to put them up with. They required little verbal communication, both seeming to understand the needs and intent of the other in pulling items out. Their task complete, Ryuji took the bag from her and swung it over his other shoulder. Makoto narrowed her eyes at both bags sticking out from his back.

Brown eyes scanned for the street just outside the alcove. “Come on, we should probably get to the other side of the block to start puttin’ these up. That guy is probably lookin’ around for whoever put the Card in his car.” Ryuji made to leave the little alcove by the arcade.

Makoto grabbed the strap of her bag on his shoulder. He tensed. “Sakamoto-kun, do you truly intend to carry both our bags?”

He turned back around to her, confusion pulling at his features. Idiot punk. “Yeah? Somethin’ wrong with that?”

Makoto sighed and tugged her bag off his shoulder. He carefully transferred the contents of his both hands to one and allowed her to take it. “Firstly, you look ridiculous. Second, I’m capable to carrying my own bag.”

Ryuji’s eyes fell. He should have more faith in her. “Right. Sorry. Mom-“ He swallowed the explanation and shook his head. “Anyway, let’s get going.”

She swung her bag up onto her shoulder and lead the way out of the alcove. They turned away from Kaneshiro’s car and walked as calmly as guilty teenagers could. Ryuji, one hand now free, lifted it to rub the back of his neck. Spending an afternoon with the Student Council President had never been halfway on his mind before. He always felt so inadequate next to anyone from the school, less so around the track team, but most often around someone like Makoto. She had so much going for her. But him? Not so much. As everyone reminded him frequently. He gripped the Cards in his hands. That was his purpose.

They worked in relative silence for a bit, aside from the occasional buzz of their phones that they collectively ignored, sticking Calling Cards to any open walls without too many witnesses. No one seemed to notice a pair of Shujin kids taping things to buildings, even if one had blonde hair.

His mind wandered a few times in the semi-comfortable silence, mostly about innocent stuff like exams and the track team problem, but also about Makoto’s Persona, but frequently about the tight curves that held her to it. He also thought about the Metaverse bleed he felt from her, if it were a new thing, and if she felt anything from him.

Near the end of their stack of cards, Makoto stood by as Ryuji taped the last few up. She fidgeted in her spot, one arm crossed her body to hold the opposite elbow. “Sakamoto-kun?”

He hummed absently, distracted from wondering which game he’d play when he got home tonight.

“The track team is reforming without Kamoshida.” He felt her eyeing him through her lashes. More nervous than seductive, but he couldn’t stop the carnal images from rattling around in his mind.

He already knew. “Yeah? That’s good.” He started to walk toward an empty spot on the wall. Why did she care?

She jogged a bit to catch up, that bleed effect feeding him conflicting information. “W-Well, I thought perhaps you would be interested in joining. Even with what happened with Kamoshida, your record speaks for itself.”

He turned and got to work. “Nah.”

Makoto stiffened, but held out the Cards for him. “No? Why not?”

He stared at the wall. How to explain? “Don’t wanna.”

She furrowed her brow, that danger and defiance dancing in her eyes. She leaned close, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you think our Phantom Thief activities will get in the way of your meets?” She straightened up, voice normal. “I’m sure Akira will be accommodating.”

Ryuji glanced at her and kept moving. She couldn’t have the bleed effect that he had. “Why’s it so important to you what I do?” Maybe she expects having some outlet will help him.

Her shoulders lifted, both hands clasping her bag. “I-It’s not. I just… I’ve seen how happy you were in the track team photos and-“

Happy? She wanted to see him happy? Ryuji laughed and turned back to her, not sure what to do with this information. “You’ve been doing a lot of research into me, Miss President.”

A blush crept onto her cheeks. “It… It was for the investigation.”

Ryuji’s grin slipped a bit as he moved a bit further. She had probably been instructed to keep an eye on him as well, the biggest troublemaker at Shujin. He tore off a piece of tape and rubbed it a little too hard against the wall. Idiot punk.

“That appears to be all we had, Sakamoto-kun.” Makoto held a hand out to him.

“That’s it?” His brow furrowed at her hand. “What-“

She curled her fingers inward, beckoning to him. “The tape. I’ll put it back in your bag for you.”

He looked to the dispenser in his hand and shook his head. “Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.” He did his best not to sound too disappointed. He caught a glimpse of his outfit as he fiddled with his bag. “Oh yeah, I gotta change outta this monkey suit, right?”

Makoto chuckled. The bleed effect cleared up a bit. “’Monkey suit’? It’s just a school uniform. But yes. I would like to return it before school tomorrow.”

He nodded. No need to spend more money on a rental when you didn’t have to. “Sure. Let’s head back to the diner. It’s getting pretty late, too. Maybe we should just grab something to eat while we’re there before we head home. Finish off our ‘date’ with a nice meal.”

Makoto followed after him. The bleed effect muddled again. “Actually, I had hoped to head home and do a bit of studying before bed. We won’t have much time tomorrow.”

Ryuji shrugged. She probably didn’t want to spend more time with him than she needed to. “I’ll try to change quickly, then.”

She slowed down a bit. He turned to catch her in the corner of his eye. She clutched at her bag again, a redness to her cheeks that seemed out of place. “How are your grades doing, Sakamoto-kun?” She shook her head as if scolding herself for something.

Ryuji furrowed his brow for a moment. Panic set in. “Did Mona say somethin’!?”

Makoto’s eyes shot up to him. “Mona? No! I just… I worry about your grades.”

Ryuji’s brow lowered further. Idiot punk. “I’ll admit, they aren’t great, but they’re my problem.” He spun around and headed for the diner’s staircase.

Makoto followed after him. They swapped bags once led to a table and Ryuji escaped quickly to the restroom. He grumbled as he changed clothes, his choice of video game when he got home now conflicting with a sudden urge to study. Part of him didn’t want to let Makoto down, but he couldn’t kid anyone. He simply didn’t have the smarts to get good grades.

He did try, for a while, but he found himself at the bottom of the exam results list too often to care too much. That was why he threw himself into track. He could focus while he ran, just listening to music and the growing strain in his legs, the breathing he regulated. He had too much energy to sit and study.

And running usually got him out of the house when his Dad had a particularly bad day.

He stuffed the wadded up uniform back into her bag and reached for the doorknob. His hand closed just before the knob. She didn’t deserve his anger. He turned back around, crouched in the floor, and started to fold all the clothes neatly.

The table appeared busier than he had remembered. Makoto had ordered a plate of fries large enough to need at least two people. He flopped back down in the booth across from her. An orange soda caught his eye. His favorite. And fries didn’t hurt.

“Well, you’re being rather forward, Miss President. Ordering my drink for me, getting us something to eat.” Ryuji arched a brow across the table.

Makoto lifted her eyes from a manga he kept in his bag. “Oh!” She blushed and slammed the manga shut. “Apologies, Sakamoto-kun. I wasn’t sure when you’d be returning so I just…”

She didn’t hear him. He shrugged and grabbed a fry. “S’fine. I could use the carbs. How did you know my favorite flavor though?” She looked away. He nodded. “Lemme guess, it was for the investigation.”

Makoto’s lips pressed together. She fussed with her hair. “I merely observed it while following you all. I’m… sorry for going through your bag.”

He waved a hand dismissively. He had gotten used to it. “Whatever. S’not like I keep anything important in there.” He grabbed another fry. “Should I control myself on these fries, or…”

She looked to the golden potatoes. “No, it’s okay. I still have dinner at home.” He nodded and dug in to the plate between them. “That manga was surprisingly philosophical for someone like you, Ryuji-san.”

Ryuji arched a brow again. He couldn’t blame her for thinking him stupid. He swallowed most of the chewed potatoes. “Whatcha mean?” The words sounded muffled around the rest.

A smile formed on Makoto’s lips despite the disapproving glare she leveled in his direction. Presumably for talking with food in his mouth. “I’ve never really read manga, unless it was for school purposes. L-Like the training ones from lower grades, like for English and stuff.” He kept chewing. “So when you talk about manga in the Metaverse, I suppose I expected… a lot more violence and… sex.”

Ryuji swallowed the rest of his fries and chased them with a bit of orange soda. Idiot punk. “I keep those ones at home.”

Makoto’s entire face turned a dark red. Ryuji couldn’t contain the shrill laughter that escaped him at her embarrassment. Her shoulders raised and she scooted to the end of the booth. “W-We accomplished our task for the night, anyway. I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She turned to bolt.

Ryuji lunged forward to grab her wrist. “Aw, man! I’m sorry, Queen! Don’t go!”

Her hand drew into a tight fist. “I will remind you, Sakamoto-kun, that I am trained in Aikido.” She tossed the dark threat over her tight shoulders.

Her tone killed his laughter. He swallowed again and tugged on her arm. “Hey, senpai, sorry. I just meant a little fun. I didn’t mean to… hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly. Her reddish-brown eyes peeked at him over her shoulder. He offered her an apologetic smile. She turned back toward him and nodded. He released her wrist and gestured to the seat across from him. She smoothed her skirt down and slid back into it.

The blonde took one fry. She stayed. He looked to the closed manga. “Which one did you get out, anyway?” He plunged the fry into his mouth.

Makoto furrowed her brow at the manga. “It was about… a man fighting all manner of demons to protect himself and someone he loves? He had an enormous sword.”

He swallowed and grinned. “Aw, man, that one’s my favorite. Did you like it?”

Red-brown eyes lifted to him, confusion etched in her brow. “I… suppose. From what I read, the man has a moral dilemma. The object of his affection is mindless and he struggles to save her, but he is confronted with the idea that perhaps she wants to remain broken.”

The blonde nodded absently and took a sip of his soda. She had no idea. “Yeah. That’s tough.”

Brown locks swayed as she shook her head. “Why would she want to remain broken, though? What was she like before? What… happened to her?”

A smirk played on his lips. He leaned forward a bit and tapped the manga a few times. “You picked up the wrong volume, Miss President. That manga has been goin’ on since the 80s.”

Her brow lifted. “The 80s!? It’s been running that long?” He nodded. “How much would I have to catch up on? How much further does it go?”

He tilted his head. A smirk played on his lips as he leaned forward. “You liked it that much, just from a few pages?”

The blush returned, pinker this time. It complemented her features well. “W-Well… It poses interesting questions.”

Ryuji tilted his head. “But you only asked me about the relationship so far.” It seemed almost out of character for her to pursue.

Her brow furrowed. He could almost see the gears turning, desperate for a better explanation than she had simply been interested. “But… isn’t her situation much like that of a Change of Heart?”

The blonde straightened up. Seemed a good excuse as any. “You know… I guess I never thought of that.” He laughed once.

She lifted a few lither fingers to fuss with her hair, combing a bit behind her left ear. “Do you think the mangaka knew about the Metaverse even then?”

Ryuji dropped his head. He reached for more fries. “I don’t think he had that in mind when he made the manga. He’s said in interviews before that he sorta lets the story grow as it wants to.” He grabbed a few fries and dipped them in mayo cup. “That’s why the story has been going on so long. He doesn’t plan it out or anything. There’s plenty of people that complain about some of the characters’ inconsistencies from the first chapter until now, so some people don’t consider the very first chapter canon until the writer explains himself. So I doubt he knows anything.” He shoved his handful of fries in his mouth.

Makoto lifted a hand to her lips. “That could just be an excuse. He could be behind the mental breakdowns. Or-“

Ryuji laughed again. He shook his head and chewed. “You fink-“ He laughed and chewed a bit more.

Makoto frowned over the table to him. He calmed a bit; just a moment ago she had attempted to leave for this reason. He cleared his throat and chewed quietly.

“I’m taking this case very seriously, Sakamoto-kun. Yes, we need to stop Kaneshiro, for personal and impersonal reasons, but we are the only ones with the knowledge and power to stop the true culprit behind the attacks.” She sighed sharply.

Ryuji swallowed his mush and looked around the diner. Other patrons chatted and ate happily. Not one of them knew the weight that a group of teenagers bore. Not one worried for their mental state. Because Makoto had a point.

And here he thought he would have a nice conversation about a manga.

He wiped his hands on his pants. “Okay, senpai. I… It’s not that I ain’t takin’ this seriously, it’s just that… If you read the rest of the manga, you’d know why she was like that. It’s all fairly clearly explained. In gruesome detail.” He grabbed his soda. “You’re welcome to borrow them anytime. I know you’d take care of them.” He chugged the orange beverage out of frustration.

Makoto looked to the manga. “I probably shouldn’t. I have so much studying to catch up on after all these excursions into the Metaverse. Speaking of, would you like to head home?”

He looked to the plate of fries. He had been working on it since he returned, but without her help, he had barely eaten half of it. “Ain’t you hungry, senpai?”

She smiled politely and shook her head. “I have dinner at home. Thank you though.”

His eyes narrowed. She had ordered them. The blonde shrugged. “I’ll finish these up and pay for everything then. You can head home, senpai.” He grabbed another fry and settled in.

Makoto lifted her brow. “Ryuji-san, you already paid for my tea earlier. I know you don’t have that much money to sp-“

He waved a fry at her. “Look, a gentleman pays for his date.”

Her eyes widened, her cheeks reddened, and she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, revealing red ears. “D-Date, Ryuji-san?”

He felt his jaw tense. They had joked about it all day, why did it bother her now? The bleed effect flickered. He felt his cheeks flare with the heat of embarrassment. He shoved the single fry in his mouth. Idiot punk. “C’mon, senpai, I’m just messin’ with ya again. Now head home. You don’t wanna be seen out with a delinquent like me, ya know?”

Her brow furrowed over worried eyes, but he pretended not to recognize the expression. He had seen it several times on his mother’s face. He pulled the menu out to look for prices.

“Ryuji…” Her voice drifted to him, delicate and reserved, but somehow still warm.

He took a slow breath, doing his best to ignore her. His pocket buzzed again. Soda was unlimited, he could go to the bar to get more, and it only cost 160yen?

“Ryuji.” Her voice came a bit harsher this time, demanded his attention.

He took a sip of his soda and discovered the bottom of the glass. He moved to stand from the booth. Makoto stood in his way. “Oh, are you headed home, senpai?” Best to act innocent, it typically deflected his mother’s frustration.

He jumped slightly as she leaned down, her arms wrapped around his neck, and drew him into an awkward hug. He felt the blush spread on his cheeks and darted his eyes around the diner.

“Ryuji, you’re my friend.” Makoto’s spoke directly by his ear. He tried to ignore the sensations in his fingertips, the back of his neck. “I don’t want to hear you putting yourself down like that anymore, okay?”

He looked to the glass in his right hand. He wanted to hug her back, to touch her in any way, but he knew the looks they would garner, the whispers and stares. He simply cleared his throat. “’Course, senpai.”

She squeezed him one last time before she stood. “Good. You’re a good person, Ryuji, regardless of your reputation.”

He couldn’t stop the sardonic chuckle. She narrowed her eyes at him, forced him to look away. They were only friends insofar as she had blackmailed them to include her in their Thievery. Outside of that, she never spoke to him. “Thanks, senpai.”

“Ryuji, I’m serious.” She stood resolute, preventing his escape. Right, Aikido.

The whispers had already started. He could hear the other diner patrons muttering quietly. Probably something about how he had pissed off that sweet looking girl and he deserved whatever shit she was giving him. Idiot punk. “Yeah, whatever. I’m thirsty, though, and the drinks are unlimited, so… Mind getting’ outta my way?”

She balked, her head draws back. He knows he’s going too far, the abusive asshole not properly locked away yet. He cursed himself even as she shifted back to her side of the booth. She muttered out an apology as he bolted from the table. The whispers followed him, louder in his head. Idiot punk. He couldn’t put that reputation on her, too.

A few more ice cubes tinkled into the glass before he refilled his glass with melon soda. The favorite flavor of his mother, it should help calm him down. And with any luck, Makoto would’ve gotten the hint and bailed. She didn’t need to be out all night performing legally grey activities with some delinquent. Idiot punk. He got her in too much trouble. Shit, he was trouble. He took a few chugs of his soda and refilled it again.

He should just pay for the meal and get out whenever he got back to the table. No reason to sit alone at a table and eat fries. Idiot punk. He could get home and play video games all night. He had been stuck on a boss for a while, but maybe he could get Mom to let him turn the internet on so he could get help.

He paused. Makoto remained at her seat, gingerly eating a fry, flipping through his manga again. His brow furrowed.

“Hey, senpai, I thought I told you to go home?” He gently placed the soda on the table.

She blushed up to him. A playful smile played on her pink buds. “I… hadn’t finished the manga.”

Frustration bubbled in his gut. “I already offered you to take it with you. And didn’t you say you had some studying to do or somethin’?” His tone is angrier than he intended, still struggling with the asshole.

Her brow furrowed again over a pained expression. She nodded once and pushed the manga across the table. The pages flipped on their own to a comfortable position. “My apologies for intruding, Sakamoto-kun. Thank you for paying for everything today.” The bleed darkened and he recognized this emotion. He had hurt her.

She grabbed her bag and stood, prim and proper, and bowed to him. Idiot punk. He watched her walk away, down the stairs. As her braided headband disappeared, he cursed himself and sat back down.

His thoughts drifted, going over the day. He had gone wrong in places, but where? How had he hurt her? Of course he hurt her, though. A huge disappointment, an idiot punk, a delinquent with a bad reputation. He got bad grades, had a bad temper that he got from his abusive father, and people thought him weird for his taste in manga and video games. The only friends he had were delinquents like him, people that didn’t belong. He didn’t deserve to be friends with someone like Niijima-senpai.

His phone buzzed. He had been ignoring it all day. Without someone to distract him, he had no reason not to check it.

More group chats; a few direct messages from the other Thieves, including Makoto’s warnings from earlier; something from his track team, an update on Yamauchi’s preferred haunt he hoped; and another direct message from Makoto.

His finger hesitated over her icon. About today read the subject line. Timestamp a few seconds ago. The seconds counted up into minutes.

He sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket, her message unread. The fries had gotten cold, his drink watered down, and he had to put his manga away.

It lay open to a page with two of the main characters holding a small child, looking for all the world like a family. He growled and slammed the book closed.

[mittensmorgul]

On to 2.10, Hunted, where Sam learns what Dean's been hiding from him since John died, and they both wrestle with what it all means as the world takes another leap in emotionally manipulating them into deeper and deeper levels of personal horror. With one minor victory at the end... at least they get Gordon without actually having to kill him (yet... but that's a problem for s3).

So the narrative spiral begins speeding up here. Thanks, Chuck.

Gordon: See, I was doing an exorcism down in Louisiana. Teenage girl, seemed routine, some low-level demon. But between all the jabbering and the head-spinning, the damn thing muttered something. About a coming war. And I don't think it meant to, it just kind of slipped out. But it was too late. Piqued my interest. And you can really make a demon talk, you got the right tools. Dean: And what happened to the girl it was possessing? Gordon: She didn't make it. Dean: Well, you're a son of a bitch. Gordon: That's my momma you're talking about... Anyway. This demon tells me there are soldiers to fight in this coming war. Humans, fighting on hell's side. You believe that? I mean, they're psychics, so they're not exactly pure humans, but still. What kind of worthless scumbag have you got to be to turn against your own race? But you know the biggest kick in the ass? This demon said I knew one of them. Our very own Sammy Winchester.

Gordon gets hold of some information that's deliberately manipulative, and he's just the kind of person who will deliberately and carefully set out a trap just for Sam Winchester, and have absolutely no qualms about killing him based on this info. he sets a trap for Sam by killing other Special Children... Can you say "Chuck pulling strings and setting up his favorites with yet another horrific twist in their already depressing story?"

But all of that happens after Dean is finally compelled to tell Sam the truth:

Dean: He said that he wanted me to watch out for you, to take care of you. Sam: He told you that a million times. Dean: No, this time was different. He said that I had to save you. Sam: Save me from what? Dean: He just said that I had to save you, that nothing else mattered; and that if I couldn't, I'd... Sam: You'd what, Dean? Dean: That I'd have to kill you. He said that I might have to kill you, Sammy.

And Sam is, of course, justifiably pissed-- both at Dean for keeping it from him and at John for leaving them with this horrific bit of info without any further explanation. What does this even MEAN for Sam? About Sam? He's TERRIFIED. What is in store for him, and what might the demon have planned for him?

Does he even have any CHOICE in this matter or is it gonna be a switch flipping inside him, erasing Sam Winchester and replacing it with the sort of monstrous creatures the townspeople in 2.09 became? And what damage might he inflict if Dean again fails to pull the trigger on him?

Through Sam's interactions with Ava, we learn more about Sam and Dean's backup measures we got a look at in 2.07-- they've got secret code words to alert each other to danger, and backup plans in place for this exact situation, namely Dean being held at gunpoint as bait for Sam. Sam's armed and prepared to walk into a trap, and pulls a Sam Special of wiggling out of danger. But first he sets up an awful bit of dramatic irony:

SAM: You've done all you can. Just, just go back to your fiance. AVA: Are you sure? SAM: Yes, I'm sure. Go home, Ava. You'll be safe there.

Lol forever... sure she'll be safe there... until the demon comes for her, leaving her fiance slaughtered. And we won't know her fate until 2.21, but it's effectively the thing Sam is terrified the demon will do to him... Thing is, in that epiosde, we will learn that it was all always Ava's own choice, every step of the way. Yeah, she was manipulated into believing her own survival was on the line (and it technically was), but every choice she made drew her deeper and deeper into the demon's power and control, as she chose to relinquish her autonomy at every turn in exchange for not only survival, but dominance in this larger "game" the demon set in place.

But for now, Dean hints at what this all means, and finally asserts his own defiance in the face of this horror. Telling Sam the truth, and seeing proof of Sam's inherent "goodness" in how he handled Gordon Walker-- not by killing him but by setting him up to be arrested by the police-- and then having someone to share in the burden gives him new confidence in whatever unknowns they may face going forward.

Dean puts forward the notion from the beginning of the episode, running away from their problems, but this time it's more lighthearted. He tells Sam never to run off like that again (which, hello, becomes the refrain of TFW over and over again through the years-- the "we'll face it together")

DEAN: Screw the job. Screw it, man, I'm sick of the job anyway. I mean, we don't get paid, we don't get thanked. The only thing we get's bad luck. SAM: Well, come on, dude, you're a hunter. I mean, it's what you were meant to do. DEAN: Ah, I wasn't meant to do anything, I don't believe in that destiny crap. SAM: You mean you don't believe in my destiny. DEAN: Yeah, whatever. SAM: Look, Dean, I've tried running before. I mean, I ran all the way to California and look what happened. You can't run from this. And you can't protect me. Dean looks at him. DEAN: I can try. SAM (quietly): Thanks for that. (DEAN nods) Look, Dean, I'm gonna keep hunting. I mean, whatever is coming, I'm taking it head-on, so if you really want to watch my back, then I guess you're gonna have to stick around.

and there it is, both their greatest weakness and their greatest strength, but it's what carries them through everything. Screw destiny, right in the face. Team Free Will 0.1.

[wolvesdevour]

I come from a family of Republicans. Well, for the most part. I also have family that worked in politics, so there’s a lot of Washingtonians, too (which isn’t so much of a party as eh... A deep understanding of the politics and how they work to the point were parties are viewed as useless to adhere to). But the thing is. Republicanism has changed so much over the last century. I grew up with Repubs who are pro-LGBT, pro-Feminism, pro-abortion, pro-choice, pro-protection of sex workers, pro-environmentalism, pro-immigration rights, anti-racism, etc. Also heavily anti-religion in politics.  The problem is that Republicanism has changed. Some Republicans are still that way--or you pick and choose (some may be less anti-racism, but for everything else, etc; tbh, they’re human but they’re also human and that means you can talk to them and make deals and shit). But there’s new Republicanism that is the Tea Party. They’re whatever Trump is. That’s not... That’s not Republicanism. I had an interesting talk the other day, but there’s 4 major political designations: 1) socially conservative, fiscally conservative 2) socially conservative, fiscally liberal 3) socially liberal, fiscally conservative 4) socially liberal, fiscally liberal How 1 looks or works, I’m not really sure. I guess its “I don’t want anyone to have rights and I’m not sharing my money.” So... Traditional libertarians, maybe? I’d say that sounds a lot like libertarianism. (RE: Everyone should sustain themselves by their own means. So if you’re trans and need medical help? Too bad. Earn your own damn money.) This system doesn’t work. Because society requires aiding each other to some degree as well as exchange. More on that below. Number 2 works by saying “Only THIS group deserves aid.” Number 3 is what most “sane” Republicans I know say they are. They support people, but are cautious of rampant spending. Newer republicanism is more akin to 2, not 3. “Only white, straight Christians deserve aid and rights.” [Disclaimer: 2 is not exclusive to one group, but because we’re talking American politics, this is why I say “white, straight Christians.”] I feel that 3 is highly debatable on how it functions. For example, I consider myself fiscally conservative, but on the scale of conservativeness [fiscally], I am more liberal than some of my family. I am what I consider more German or Scandinavian in fiscality, which means: higher taxes for greater liberal aid. [Disclaimer: Taxes scare people. This is a pretty complicated topic which I don’t feel like getting into right now because I’m trying to keep this short.] Number 4 is... I’m not sure of what political system to call this. I’m not a large fan of this because our society runs inherently on exchange. Money is an artificial form of trade. I’ve tried to search for a workaround to money. No matter what I found, trade is required. If you’re wondering, this is also why I dislike 1 for a similar reason: it shuts down all trade systems. 4 would state that society deserves aid and rights, but for free (or: workers who are providing aid aren’t receiving payment). If you’ve noticed, I mention trade, taxes, and money a lot. Bear with me, but I’m gonna get biological for a second: We’re human beings, right? But we’re also animals. Primates. Hominidae. Homininae. Homo sapiens.  So let’s break that down a bit. Prosimians--think: lemurs--are more primitive of the primates. This isn’t judgement; they’re more related to our overall ancestors than the simians (monkeys and apes). Prosimians generally have social grooming. All primates, for the most part, have social grooming. This is called allogrooming. In more advanced primates, we start seeing more complex exchanges. This means if one individual of a species is grooming the other, they will expect some sort of return. You may also see a primate with food--such as grapes--and in exchange for the grapes, may receive grooming or other favors from other individuals in its social group.  So what about us? We’re not different than other apes, really. This is why we may get angry at our coworkers, friends, family, or partners. If we’re doing all the work and we’re not getting what we view as adequate exchange, we will be unhappy.  This is why trade is important to politics. You cannot have an entirely free system because if you take away all forms of money, you then must rely on trade, such as “I have 10 oranges; you have a book. I will trade you my bag of oranges for your book!” That is a more chaotic form of trade because it will require constant dependence on how much your item is desired (and lasting of your item--oranges go bad, books can suffer damage). What if the person already has 50 oranges because it is peak orange picking season? 10 oranges is worth a piece of paper, not a book! They don’t want more oranges. Money is a little more complex, because you still get resource fluctuations, but you also now have an item that doesn’t change. A dollar is a representation, not in of itself of value. Of course, this still has changes, such as: A dollar will pay for 3 oranges one month, and when oranges are highly abundant, it will pay for 10 oranges. But the dollar itself remains “easier” structurally for individuals in society because if you have that dollar, you can always wait until next season to buy oranges. But if you only had a book, if you waited, maybe someone else already traded fewer oranges with their copy of the book and now your book is worthless to the vendor.  So um. Anyways. I have no idea how I got onto money and trade.  Essentially, my point being: There are no absolutes. I loathe the idea of someone is only conservative or liberal. It’s a bit of a lie, really. Because there is more than one type of conservative or liberal designation. Even among the 4 I listed, you have people like my Repub family members and myself. We both agree on taxes being important. Except we see it differently on how it should be applied. I personally prefer higher taxes for the rich. As someone who is in the higher classes I want higher taxes for the rich. It’s called being a fucking good person. I know of other people saying the same thing. But we may disagree on the level of higher taxes, etc. And that’s kind of my point, I think. Overall. Republicans aren’t evil. I’m not one. I’m a Washingtonian. But a lot of the concepts of Republicanism that people hate? It’s not a base of Republicanism. It’s people who are Republicans who are assholes. Because I know Republicans who are disgusted by what’s been happening to their own party, except they’ve become a minority. Or people who are hear a lot of “Republicans are shit; they should die.” and say “Fine, then you’re a threat or aggressive to me, so I will stop caring about you.” (There’s actually some credence to this phenomenon. It’s complicated and would require another post, I think to fully explain.) Then they become more radical--leaning more and more to 2 and 1 functions, rather than the more function 3 political function. This is also why when someone says “I’m very liberal,” I always ask how are you liberal? Because this could mean socially, fiscally, or both.  Labels can be useful, but they’re only useful when we understand how they’re being used.